For many of us, the last few years have been lean years in terms of material wealth. This means that the holidays are an excellent time to remind ourselves that the best and most meaningful gifts don’t have the highest price tags: they’re the gifts that embody love and consideration. To me, the best gift is one that indicates to me that the person giving knows me well enough to know what would make me smile.

I like to think that I keep this in mind when I give gifts to family and friends: they’re not always fancy, and they’re often not even store bought, but they are full of love, and I always try to fit my gifts to the tastes and fancies of the people I’m giving to.

This year, I made more edible gifts than I ever have before. It was a little more work than usual, given my final exam schedule, but absolutely worth it. I was really happy with how my holiday treats turned out, and I’ll definitely be repeating them. Here, for the 2011 giving season, is a roundup of my favorites—most of which you saw here when I first posted them—as well as my picks for holiday dining this year (don’t worry: there will be more of those in the next two days).

Raw, Vegan Macaroons

Low Fat, Raw, and Vegan Apple Cinnamon Raisin Granola

Sweet n’ Spicy Candied Nuts

Sour Cream and Cherry Muffins

Cocoa Crunch Buckwheat Granola

Vegan Double Chocolate Chunk Cookies

And, if you’re looking for some fantastic holiday dishes to prepare tomorrow, on Sunday, and throughout the week, you can try:

Creamy Fusilli with Beets, Kale, and Toasted Pine Nuts

Raw, Vegan Pumpkin Pie

Sunflower Seed and Cashew Cheese with Cranberries

Gluten Free, Vegan Stuffing with Brussels Sprouts and Butternut Squash

Curried Cauliflower with Fresh Cranberries

Vegan Colcannon

Enjoy!!!

Looking back, I think that Christmas was truly the holiday that taught me to be conscious of my own good fortune. I was so grateful for my cozy holiday dinners, my gifts, my friends, and my family, and it occurred to me that so many people around the world were spending their own Christmases without shelter, warmth, food, or company.

This Christmas, as we all get ready to dig into presents and feed ourselves like kings and queens, let’s all try to remember not only the many other human beings who are less fortunate than we are, but also the hundreds of thousands of animals who are suffering this holiday season—all too often, suffering for us. Let’s remember that they, too, are without warmth, shelter, or rest; let’s remember that they’re often sick, scared, and lonely. Before you check off all of your Christmas gifts, please consider donating to your favorite animal-oriented charity or non-profit, or, if you’d like to link your own life to that of an animal in need, please consider sponsoring an animal at a local farm sanctuary.

My life is so much richer because of Hamlet, the ornery pig I sponsor at Poplar Springs Animal Sanctuary near DC. And the Woodstock Farm Animal Sanctuary in upstate New York is the place I learned how to connect intimately and compassionately with animals. There’s really no greater gift you can give yourself and an animal than the gift of a newly forged relationship.

For a list of farm sanctuaries near you, check this link out.

And an early, tasty, happy Christmas to you, readers See you tomorrow!

xo

Yesterday, I paid a visit to Poplar Springs Animal Sanctuary to help celebrate the farm’s annual fundraiser. My main motive for visiting Poplar is always to say hello to the pigs; as you know, I help to sponsor Hamlet, a pig with tremendous personality.

I couldn’t find hamlet yesterday—I think he was off playing in the mud somewhere–but I did get to greet some of his friends.

My other reason to visit poplar was to see Colleen Patrick Goudreau, the keynote speaker, in action. Colleen is one of my culinary heroes, and she’s a role model as an activist, too. I met her at Vida Vegan, and found that she is every bit as gracious and composed in person as she is in her work; we spent a moment comparing our literary pasts (Colleen was also an English lit major, a fact that is evident in her elegant prose). Most of all, I was impressed with Colleen’s “seeds of compassion” lecture, which was about sharing a compassionate message with others. I’ve written often in the last few months about how to reconcile activism with humility and a gentle touch. No one masters that balance better than Colleen does, and yesterday’s speech proved to be no exception. Even the hand gestures were earnest:

One of the questions that emerged from the audience was, “What do I do if I’m an omnivore going veg*n, and most of my friends like to eat out at mainstream restaurants? Do I just have to starve?”

Obviously, this is something we’ve all discussed a lot here at CR. Colleen answered exactly as I would. If you anticipate having a lack of options, she said, a lack is what you’ll get. If you feel confident enough to order off the menu, and create your own set of options, you’ll be well fed.

What does this mean? This means that you don’t simply stare at a menu with threadbare salads and meat/cheese dishes feeling disappointed. It means you ask—politely and respectfully—if the chef has any rice or beans that could be added to the mesclun salad. Is there a way to do the pasta primavera without the chicken? Is there a sandwich that can be veganized? How about plain spaghetti and red sauce with a few pieces of steamed broccoli? Hopefully your options will be richer than that, but even if they’re not, you won’t starve.

Of course, gathering the nerve to talk to your waiter is most of the work. I once met a man who told me that he was essentially vegan, except for restaurants. He told me this as if it were a given, and there could be no other solution: “I’m vegan, except when I eat out, obviously.”

I looked at him quizzically, and said, “why restaurants?”

“Well, they never have options I can eat on the menu,” he said.

“So why don’t you just try to order off the menu?” I replied.

He stared, as if I’d just changed everything. “I guess it never occurred to me that I could ask for something that wasn’t on the menu,” he said.

It’s a tiny exchange, but I think it speaks to the fact that, if you choose to eat in a way that is selective and different, it’s important to think outside the box. Heck, isn’t all of veganism—at least at this moment in time—a form of thinking outside of the box? Part of exploring the lifestyle is learning how to search for solutions and accommodations when they haven’t been given to you. Restaurant dining is shifting in a more plant-based direction, but we’re far from the day when vegan options will abound on any restaurant menu in any part of the country. Till then, we can do our best to create options for ourselves, rather than waiting for others to hand them to us.

It’s easy to confuse confidence with aggression or egotism. The first time I wrote about my unabashed exchanges with waiters, a former waiter commented and reminded me that people who demand 103837 modifications impolitely are terribly hard for wait staffs to handle. This was a good reminder. That said, I think it’s all to do with attitude: as Colleen pointed out yesterday, you pay good money to dine out. And you have the right to ask for simple things, like a side of beans, just so long as you don’t demand something outrageous (for example, I’m not going to ask any old restaurant to create a raw vegan entrée for me). But you have to ask in a way that is as respectful as it is self-assured.

I love that women like Colleen are out there, sharing a confident message with both veteran and prospective vegans. And I think that her formula extends to any particular way of eating. Few things are more intimate and personal than how we choose to feed ourselves, and we all have the right to pick and choose our food identities—veg*n, allergy-specific, local, organic, whatever. If we can find ways to do that with both graciousness and pride, “ordering off the menu” becomes easy.

More advice on restaurant dining? Check out calling ahead and last week’s talking to people about your food choices posts.

Till tomorrow,

xo

Last night, I had a ball at Woodstock Farm Sanctuary’s annual fundraising laugh-a-thon, Comedy for Karma, held at the Gotham Comedy Club in NYC:

This unique, annual event gives supporters of the Woodstock Farm a chance to come out, enjoy the work of a few wildly talented young comics, and help raise money for their beloved animal sanctuary in upstate NY. Woodstock Farm will always have a special place in my heart: it was at another of its annual fundraising events—Thanksliving of 2009—that I first started to redefine the terms of my vegan lifestyle, and began exploring the ethics of veganism.

Gena in Woodstock, 2009

I’ve never looked back.

Gena at Poplar Springs, 2011

I’m always happy to attend or volunteer at Woodstock FAS events. Conveniently, they always happen to be a blast. I love that one of their annual events is a comedy show. Supporters of the farm, and anyone who takes a compassionate lifestyle seriously, know that there’s nothing funny about the way we treat farm animals in this country and around the world. But we spend a lot of time talking about the horrors of animal abuse, writing about them, debating them, and contemplating them seriously. Once in a while, it’s important for us to band together, celebrate our community, and enjoy a good joke or two. And that’s what Comedy for Karma is all about.

This year’s event featured some baked sugar cookies with buttercream frosting—dessert pizzettes, if you will—from Verite Catering, a brand new, all vegan catering company founded by my incredible young friend, Cassie:

They were scrumptious. I even bought one to share with the strangers next to me at my table:

I’ll have to get the recipe from Cassie—or perhaps she’ll share it with us in her upcoming CR interview!

Last night’s lineup of comics was stellar, featuring two vegans, Jamie Kilstein and Myk Kaplan, and some comics who are close to the Woodstock Farm and its mission: The Daily Show’s Wyatt Cenac and John Oliver, and the remarkably tall Gary Gulman. Our host and hostess for the night were Dan Piraro—vegan comedian extraordinaire and member of the Woodstock FAS family—and Olivia Munn, whom you may also know from The Daily Show, or from TV. They kicked things off with good spirits and a few fine quips:

And onto the stage rushed Jamie, who was like a tattooed force of nature:

Jamie and I had found each other before the show and chatted: he had recently tweeted me to say that he and his wife are exploring raw foods (yay!!) and they had a couple of questions for me. I assured him that horrifying detox symptoms are largely mythical, that he doesn’t really have to use his new dehydrator if he doesn’t want to, even though he spent money on it, and that it’s OK to keep eating cooked food, even if you fall in love with raw food. We also had some time to chat about our paths to veganism and animal rights: I always love to hear about peoples’ journeys to compassion, and this was no exception!

Jamie launched right into a very funny rant about how veganism tends to inspire more shock and defensiveness in strangers, family and friends than practically any other lifestyle stance or philosophical position. It’s true: I’ve found that I can describe almost religious view, political affiliation, or career choice without so much as a raised eyebrow (granted, I live in NYC—this might not be true everywhere). I mention veganism to polite company, however, and it’s immediately fair game to bombard me with questions—sometimes innocent and curious, sometimes rather defensive: “But WHY? You need protein, you know.” “I buy my eggs from the farmer’s market. What do you have to say about that??” “My doctor says you need meat to be healthy.” “Animals eat each other in the wild, so why shouldn’t we eat them?” “What if you were stranded on a dessert island? What would you do then?” “What about people? Don’t you care about HUMAN suffering??” And so on. Jamie tackled a bunch of these head on, starting with the desert island (“It’s 2011. I won’t be stranded on a dessert island.”)

He also had some great material on gay rights.

Next up was Myk Kaplan, who, though more understated in demeanor than Jamie is, was also hilarious:

He had a few of my favorite lines of the evening, including “my mother says she’s a vegetarian, but she’s actually a pescatarian. Which means she eats fish, including lying about being a vegetarian,” and “on average, vegans live 15 years longer than omnivores, mostly because we don’t get invited anywhere fun.” (Emily was enjoying my live tweets, which relayed the jokes in full!)

Gary Gulman changed the mood up, bringing the jokes out of the primarily vegan realm and talking about politics and culture, too:

He is very, very tall.

Finally, Wyatt Cenac and John Oliver closed the show with energy and daring. I give Oliver special credit for making the tiring crowd guffaw—in part by teasing us about how obviously tired we were:

In the middle of the event, Jenny Brown—co-founder of Woodstock FAS—took the stage to rally support for animals. “What isn’t funny,” she reminded us, “is the treatment of farm animals in this country.”

Jenny will always get credit for being the woman who reminded me that veganism “isn’t just about having a perfect bowel movement. It’s about the animals.” I adore and admire her, and I thank her for helping to expand and add meaning to my veganism. Here she is with Jamie:

And with the lovely Ms. Munn:

Talk about the veggie glow!

In all, it was a fabulous and fun evening, and I’m already excited for next year. Not to mention my new shirt:

Like it? The buy one for yourself! They’re for purchase here, and proceeds go to help the Woodstock Farm to shelter, heal, and care for animals.

If you’re an New Yorker, I urge you to join me next year for Comedy for Karma—it’s really not to be missed! Just ask these laughing folks:

One thing I took away from the evening was that all of the comics were into exploring not just veganism and AR, but also gay rights, gender, race, and religion. Now, I’m guessing that these topics are standard fare in the world of standup: comedy is transgressive, and what better topics to push the envelope with than these? Even so, I had the feeling that this was a particularly daring and open-minded group of comedians, and I loved it.

Thanks to Woodstock FAS for a great night. I’ll be back here tomorrow with a favorite new raw noodle dish.

xo

OK, first up: responses to my guest post at JL Goes Vegan have been amazing! Truly amazing. If you haven’t read them yet, please check them out: some of the most fun, varied, and interesting commentary on vegan ethics I’ve read in a long while. If that post represents the ideological foundations of my vegan beliefs, I hope this post illustrates the real life experience that helps me to feel compassion.

One of  my major turning points as a vegan was my volunteer experience at the Woodstock Farm Animal Sanctuary a year and a half ago. The event was called Thanksliving—a fundraiser held two weeks before the holiday that many vegans associate with a celebration of lost life—and I’d simply agreed to go because a good friend was volunteering.

I left the farm a changed woman, literally. My work with the animals that weekend was the start of transformation that continues to this day. Whereas I once thought of myself only as a “dietary vegan,” I now consider myself a vegan who remains vegan for compassion’s sake. Health will always be a driving factor in my lifestyle, but it’s no longer the driving factor, whereas animal life is. This morning, I made my second farm sanctuary trip, and found it equally moving. I’ve decided to sponsor a pig at Poplar Springs Farm Sanctuary outside of D.C., and today I went to meet him.

I arrived to rolling hills, wooden fences, and a tranquil mood. The sanctuary is situated in a scenic and secluded part of Maryland, but it’s easily accessible to city dwellers.

What happens here at Poplar Springs? Well, this 400-acre, entirely non-profit farm is devoted to:

• Offering care, rehabilitation, and permanent sanctuary for neglected, abandoned or unwanted farm animals.
• Providing protected habitat for wildlife.
• Furnishing information to the public regarding farm animal and wildlife issues.
• Promoting compassion and humane treatment for all animals.

Many people have asked me in the past what farm sanctuaries do: typically, they provide rehabilitation and shelter to animals who have been rescued from factory farms, live kill markets, and domestic cruelty. The rescued animals are cared for, fed, and allowed to roam freely. Farm sanctuaries often play a part in animal rescue from natural disaster, too.

For this reason, many of the animals at farm sanctuaries live with injuries: as you can see, this sweet sheep is missing a leg, but still managing to feed and wander on her own:

Confession: I have always loved pigs. Maybe it’s random, maybe it’s their sweet, lackadaisical manner, maybe it’s reading Charlotte’s Web: who knows. I love them. And they’re one of the most highly intelligent farm animals, too: their intelligence is often measured as equal to, if not higher than dogs’.

It’s difficult to spend time with farm animals like these pigs and not see the terrible contradiction between our treatment of domestic pets versus our treatment of farm animals:

They are smart, affectionate, peaceful, and social—with each other, and with us.

See what I mean?

In the end, I set my sights on a slightly ornery and older pig:

Unlike some of the younger guys and gals, he seemed a little cranky, a little independent. But when Dave, the director of the sanctuary, explained his story, I was determined to help sponsor his care. Apparently this pig was chosen by a local farmer to be used in a pig roast. As the pig grew, he became so attached to his farmer that he would follow the farmer everywhere; the farmer couldn’t wrest the pig from his side. The farmer’s wife even named the pig Hamlet—whether because it’s a play on “ham,” or because the pig showed sensitivity and indecision in the face of grave family circumstances, I’m not sure

The farmer was ultimately so moved by Hamlet’s loyalty that he decided he couldn’t use him for a roast, and donated him to Poplar Springs. They agreed to take Hamlet only on the condition that roasts of all sort would cease: the farmer said he probably could never do another one anyway—not after his experience with Hamlet—and agreed. I loved the dichotomy between Hamlet’s gruff demeanor and heart, which was so loyal that it managed to change the farmer’s intention. These are exactly the sort of stories that illustrate the depth of animals’ emotional lives, not to mention our own capacity to have our lives changed by their behaviors.

I hope that my small sponsorship can help to keep Hamlet and pigs like him safe from the trauma of their past experience.

It’s often hard for new vegans who are curious about animal rights to put a face on the issue itself. Yes, we can all watch videos or look at calendar photos, but how to spark a true sense of compassion? How to awaken a real life appreciation of sentience?

Visiting a farm sanctuary is a great place to start. You’ll be enchanted, sure, but you’ll also leave with a sense of respect for animal life. Farm sanctuary volunteer work is a wonderful way to connect with likeminded thinkers, and visits are a great family activity, too. If you are moved by the experience, I highly suggest sponsoring a farm animal: it’s a very small fee, typically, and you know that, each month, you’re giving back to the animals who have suffered most profoundly at human hands.

I mean, just look at how happy sponsorship makes me:

Click here for a list of all farm sanctuaries in the US, organized by state. See who’s near you, and see if you can’t help out for the day, or become a sponsor yourself. I promise you won’t regret it.

And now, bedtime calls. See you back here soon with some blooger meet-up recaps!

xo

A few weeks ago, my trusty old winter parka of 5+ years gave out on me. Or at least, its zipper gave out on me. Heartbroken, I asked a few tailors how much it would be to replace the zipper, and they all gave me predictably high estimates. I know I could have talked to a few friends who are handy with a needle and thread (you’ll notice that sewing is not on the list of my own domestic skills), but the truth is that the coat was also pretty worn down from five NYC winters—a tear here, a frayed edge there, and so on. It was time for me to replace it.

Years ago, when I bought that coat, I was eating a vegan diet, but I wasn’t (at least not by my own definition) living a vegan life. I still bought whatever leather and wool I wanted, whichever shampoo was cheapest and smelled the best, and generally failed to be conscious of animal suffering in my small, everyday decisions. Today, my veganism has evolved from a diet to a lifestyle—a world view, really—and my choices as a consumer are shifting as a result. I’ve written about this before—here and here, notably—but it’s a constant process of growth and adjustment.

Case in point: my first winter parka shopping expedition as a vegan. I, like most people, have always worn winter coats stuffed with goose down. Goose down is by definition not vegan, but if you’re wondering—as my mother innocently did—what sorts of suffering are involved in its production, you can check out this link or this video. At the least, they’ll show you that you may know far less about the practices behind your favorite winter coat than you think. So I knew I wasn’t buying a down coat again. What I wasn’t sure of was how to go about finding a vegan parka that would be cruelty-free and slightly warmer than my beautiful Vaute Couture parka. That’s where things got complicated: it’s remarkably difficult to find winter coats that offer heavy insulation without down. Difficult, but not impossible. Here’s what I learned from a few helpful internet resources, including this invaluable article.

The main synthetic materials that are substituted for down are Primaloft (used by Patagonia, Eddie Bauer, and The North Face), Thermal R (used by Marmot), and Omniheat (used by Columbia Sportswear). Of those, Primaloft is easiest to find and search for: I had the best luck by simply going on various company websites and doing a search for it. You should get a bunch of results, and within those you can search for a jacket that suits your taste and needs. Some of my favorites as I was browsing included:

Columbia Women’s Black Diamond Dash Parka

Columbia Women’s Frosty Forest Parka

The North Face Redpoint Jacket

The North Face Women’s Quimby Insulated Jacket

Patagonia Women’s Nano Puff Jacket

LL Bean Ascent Hooded Jacket

LL Bean Rugged Ridge Parka

Eddie Bauer WeatherEdge Girl on the Go Trench

All of these are labeled as having been made with synthetic down, but I do strongly recommend you call the company before you purchase to ensure that there’s no leather or down anywhere—that’s what I did as I was exploring. (And vegans, if I’m wrong about any of the coats above, forgive me—I may have missed or misread something here or there, but again, I’d have called the maker before pressing “buy.”)

After a lot of price comparison, the jacket I settled on was this: the Land’s End Insulated Squall Parka:

So far, it’s keeping me safe from NYC’s chilly winter winds, but without the cost of animal suffering. I’m so glad I bought it.

This shopping experience was a very good example of how being a vegan consumer isn’t always the easiest route. To be honest, I could have found a parka that was slightly more fashionable than the one I got, and for a lower price (though Land’s End’s sale prices are really reasonable). It would have looked a little more like the other sleek black “poofer” coats that fashion savvy NYC women count as their late January uniforms. It would have been easier to find, and I would have had many more options. But in my experience, being a conscious consumer is usually a little tougher than not. Organic produce is more costly than conventional; high quality vegan supplements are more expensive than regular ones. Vegan apparel is often less fashion forward than regular women’s apparel, and few of my favorite clothing designers are particularly attuned to animal suffering, so I often have to forgo buying their clothing nowadays. Vegan leather is shiny looking, and not always to my taste.

But guess what? Sometimes these little hassles are a part of being vegan, and that’s fine. When I became vegan, I knew that there were certain foods that I would temporarily miss; I knew that there would be dinner parties and cocktail parties where I had very little to eat; I knew that I’d face social situations that felt awkward, or wherein I’d run the risk of being perceived as “high-maintenance.” This all turned out to be true, and it didn’t matter at all. Being vegan allows me to live in harmony with things I believe, and that makes any little nuisance worth it. And just the way I no longer miss Greek yogurt or cream in my coffee, it’s also becoming increasingly simple for me to wear pleather without cringing, or forgo a new wool hat in favor of a synthetic one, or rock my imitation Uggs rather than the “real thing.” I just don’t care about those little details of fashion savvy anymore; knowing that animals aren’t being harmed for the sake of my wardrobe matters a whole lot more. Keeping in step with the values we care about—be they vegan values or any others—isn’t always simple. But it’s always worth it by a huge margin.

And now, I know a heck of a lot about synthetic insulation. If you, my readers, have more tips to share about winter wear, please do! I’d love to hear about how you all stay toasty in the winter while also showing compassion for geese, sheep, and other animal friends.

Finally: I’ve mentioned already that tomorrow and Thursday will bring my first set of post-bacc midterms. To save myself a little stress, and to treat you all to some great content, I’m having two fabulous CR guest posts. Tomorrow, my friend Matt—vegetarian marathon runner, blogger, and health enthusiast extraordinaire—will treat you to a post on vegetarian athletic performance. I am not an educated athlete and don’t much write about fueling on a vegan diet, so I can’t wait for you all to hear some of his wisdom.

And on Thursday, my friend Elise, who is a cardiac nurse, will share some thoughts on medicine, diet, and “magic” cures that I asked her for a long time ago. I love discussing intersections and tensions between diet, lifestyle, science, and the medical world, obviously, so I’m really looking forward to this.

And I’ll see you all on Friday!

xo

A few days ago, my friend Bitt left the following comment on my crushing post:

I have had a question since seeing you in VegNews. Do you feel that you identify more with the “healthy living” community or the vegan or raw community? I have to admit I assumed the former but then was sort of surprised to see you in VegNews because they come to veganism from more of the ethical sort of standpoint. I’d love to know your thoughts on it.

The evolution of my veganism is something I’ve touched on before, most notably in my Thanksliving post, wherein I spoke at length about how my veganism was morphing into a lifestyle, rather than a mere way of eating. I also touched on veganism and its impact on my habits as a consumer here. But it’s been a while since I talked at length about my motives for choosing a vegan lifestyle. So here’s the story:

I became a vegan mostly for health reasons. I was a longtime non-eater of red meat; I swore off the sirloin after a traumatic Bambi-watching experience in childhood. I ate fish and chicken frequently all through high school and college, but by the end of college my consumption was tapering off, and I was discovering tofu, soy cheese (which was, looking back, pretty icky–you can ask Chloe about how much she enjoyed my soy cheese while we were roommates after college graduation!), and grain/bean based meals.

At the same time as all of this, I struggled with a near crippling case of IBS, which had me incapacitated not infrequently during my college years. Finally, I saw a great GI in Manhattan who suggested I give up dairy to see how it affected my digestive health. The change was immediate and dramatic. At that point, I wasn’t eating much fish or poultry, I didn’t eat eggs (they’ve always given me migraines), and dairy was suddenly off the list, too. Translation: I was eating vegan by default. And since the prospect of embracing a vegan diet seemed not daunting, but rather like a logical extension of the tastes and habits I was already learning to love, I took the plunge. I’ve never looked back.

Since I started eating vegan, I’ve begun to live vegan, too. As I read more books about veganism, and as I surrounded myself more with men and women who were passionate about veganism not for its health benefits, but because of its ethical implications, I couldn’t help but discover that, for most vegans the world over, veganism is not only a way of eating. It’s a lifestyle choice and a world view that extends from food down to clothing, language, and ideological identification. I may not have begun my vegan journey with these things in mind, but they have been an absolutely crucial part of my veganism. Why? Simply put, because I find the ethical and environmental arguments highly compelling, especially in the world in which we live. I believe that the best and most efficient way for me to remedy the abuses of factory farming and the environmental destruction it causes is to cease my consumption of animal products altogether. And I’ve come to question the assumption that our use of animals for our own benefit is right.

This ideological shift has been gradual, and it’s still very much underway. Two years ago, I ate vegan, but still purchased new leather and used non-vegan cosmetics. Today, I buy only vegan personal care items, and I also only purchase vintage or thrift shop leather (yes, I am well aware that wearing any leather sets an example, and it’s not a vegan example; I’m still in the process of changing, and this is my intermediary step). This doesn’t mean that I don’t have many, many changes yet ahead of me. Just last week, I used the expression “killing two birds with one stone” on my blog, which Bitt quickly pointed out is a non-vegan idiom! And a few weeks ago, when I mentioned staycation with my Mom, I noted that she had requested we visit the Central Park zoo.

Um, newsflash Gena: vegans don’t do zoos! Or at least, most vegans don’t support zoos, rodeos, and circuses. It was reader Sara who pointed this out to me in an email. She asked, “you’ve written before about your vegan shoes, vegan skin-care products etc., so I would just love to hear your thoughts about other non-food aspects of veganism and where you draw your lines?”

The truth, Sara, is that I didn’t even think about the zoo remark when I wrote it. My mom used to love taking me, and since our staycation was self-consciously touched by nostalgia, it must have seemed like an obvious suggestion to her. Of course, had I taken a moment to sit down and think about it, I’d have realized immediately that zoos are incongruous with a vegan lifestyle. But my veganism is young, and there are many connections that I’m making. I don’t stress about them: I have a lifetime in which to figure out where I draw my lines. As far as zoos go, I can say honestly that they–along with horse drawn carriage rides and circuses–have always depressed me and made me sorry for the animals involved, so I’ve no problem whatsoever avoiding them. If I want to see and play with animals, I can visit a farm sanctuary. But I needed an “aha” moment to connect my experience and emotions with my ideological position, if that makes sense. I imagine that this process will be long and ever-evolving.

Does this change the fact that I connect my good health to veganism? No. But I don’t think that my lifelong commitment to veganism would be as strong if the philosophical component hadn’t crept in along the way. I do believe that veganism can be the world’s healthiest diet for many people. But I also believe that it is one of many ways to live healthily. I, for example, might easily have managed my IBS and felt better by eating high raw and mostly vegan, but with the occasional inclusion of fish or yogurt. I know many pescatarians or people who eat a mostly vegan diet who feel great. So for me, the impetus to be a vegan for the long haul, rather than as an experiment to manage a health complaint, has to come from some place that isn’t exclusively health-motivated. It has to come from a conviction that goes beyond my body and how I feel. I think that all motives for choosing vegansim are great–i.e,. I certainly don’t think that non-ethical vegans are “lesser” vegans. But I do wonder if perhaps their attachment to the lifestyle would be strengthened by an appreciation of all that veganism implies, rather than its dietary dictates alone.

There’s another piece of the puzzle that I haven’t mentioned yet, but it’s a tremendous part of why I feel strongly about veganism. If health and ethics are my first two sources of devotion to veganism, this is a crucial third: my psychology. As many of you know, I struggled with various shades of disordered eating for many years, starting at a young age. Even after I learned to eat more consistently, I battled constant temptations to restrict food, and indeed my weight dropped dangerously low more than a few times after what I’d call the “worst” period of my psychological struggle. Veganism offered me an escape from these cycles. There are many reasons why that’s true, but I’d say that, for someone like me, appreciation of food had to be accompanied by a sense that the food I was eating had deep nutritional and ethical purpose. I had to feel that it was good for me, yes, but also that it was good for the world. This was my answer to the guilt that had dominated my eating for so long.

To this day, veganism isn’t supported by most health care professionals as a means of overcoming disordered eating, and I understand why: it’s very easy for veganism to hide sublimated food fears and self-imposed dietary restrictions. I also think that many women who have struggled with eating disorders find that they can never again make certain foods “off limits” to themselves, and in this sense veganism isn’t right for them. But for me, it was the gateway into having the sort of joyous and appreciative relationship with food that I wish I’d had all along. It was my way of understanding that, when we eat, we can nourish ourselves and the world in which we live all at once.

So you see, Bitt, my veganism comes from many different places. Health was the catalyst, if we want to call it that, and I still feel that veganism (as well as the very high portion of raw foods I eat) grants me energy and great health. But I wouldn’t say that health is my main motive at this point. It isn’t what makes veganism attractive to me as something I’m committed to for life. My feelings about its ethical and environmental implications, as well as the great changes it has wrought on my psyche, are what keep me hooked.

The other day, I was asked in an interview if vegans eat coffee. I laughed. “Well sure,” I said. “You have to understand that veganism isn’t about being a health freak. It is, first and foremost, a position of compassion.” Putting aside the fact that I don’t think coffee is a huge health no-no (Matt!), my point was this: veganism goes far beyond what is or isn’t on your plate. I don’t know if this response would have come to me so readily two years or even a year ago. But I said it almost without thinking. If there’s any clear sign of how much my veganism has evolved, this was it.

What about you all? For my vegan readers, what keeps you committed to a vegan diet and lifestyle? Do you identify more with one than the other? What are your reasons for exploring veganism, and sticking to it? And to my non-vegan readers, what are the motives you tend to attribute to vegans and their choices?

xo

Hey guys!

Glad you liked my autumnal menu, and glad (more importantly), that you’d like to see more. That’s great!

I’m here to recap a very special event that I attended a few weeks ago, on October 19th. My friend Cassie asked me if I’d like to help volunteer at the Woodstock Farm Animal Sanctuary’s annual Thanksliving event, which is held, perhaps symbolically, on a date that’s somewhat distant from the actual holiday. The event is meant to raise money for the Sanctuary, to spread awareness about factory farming, and to strengthen the vegan community.

What’s the Woodstock Farm Animal Sanctuary? Nestled in the Catskill mountains—in the town made infamous by peace, love, and rock n’ roll—the Sanctuary is home to farm animals—turkeys, chickens, goats, pigs, cows—who’ve been rescued from neglect, abuse, and abandonment. The evils of factory farming are extraordinarily well documented online and in print, and they’re being decried more and more each day, so I won’t give a full account of the atrocity here. But for those of you who haven’t read much on the topic, farm animals are the most abused and exploited group of animals in the world. Their death toll is 10 billion yearly—that’s 19,000 per minute, if you can fathom it.

In 2004, Jenny Brown and her husband, Doug Abel, moved to Woodstock. Both worked in film; Jenny had been a TV producer, while Doug was (and still is) a film editor whose credits include work on The Fog of War and “30 Rock.” Jenny was a longtime vegetarian and a vegan of several years, and she’d been volunteering for PETA and Farm Sanctuary since the 90’s. As she developed more and more compassion for farm animals and their plight, she decided to learn how to run a sanctuary on her own. Jenny and a group of devoted, tireless volunteers began work on the Woodstock Farm Animal Sanctuary, taking in rescues from all over New England, while Doug edited and worked furiously to cover the cost of the mortgage.

Today, the farm is a refuge for one hundred fifty animals, and in particular for animals that are rescued from the over one hundred slaughterhouses and live kill markets in New York City. It’s also home to some of the most dedicated and hard-working volunteers and staff members I’ve ever seen as part of any charitable organization. On top of all of that, it’s scenic, beautiful, and harmonious; a beautiful place to visit, if only for the landscape.

So naturally, when Cassie asked me if I wanted to tag along and help, I responded with an enthusiastic yes!

I’ve known about Cassie’s work on the farm for some time now; she volunteers often, and even leads tours for visitors. I’ve admired this work from the sidelines. Cassie is one of the most ardent vegans I know, and I really marvel at her devotion to the cause. As someone who’s always been vegan for primarily nutritional reasons, rather than ethical ones(more on that below), I’ve sometimes felt a bit like a fraud participating in the kinds of activism that Cassie commits to. But one can never increase one’s contribution to a good cause without taking a trepidations first step, and I was excited to learn more about the Woodstock operation under Cassie’s encouraging eye.

Cassie, her boyfriend Andy, her brother David, our friend Jen and I drove up to Woodstock on a Saturday afternoon. We planned to spend the day helping to prepare the farm for what would be hundreds of guests on Sunday. I’ll admit, I was a little scared: it was an unseasonably cold weekend in October, and the forecast had predicted snow! It wasn’t snowing when we arrived in Woodstock, but it was pretty cold, and we all bundled up for an afternoon of farm work.

Before we did, Cassie took me around the farm to see the animals. First, we stopped in on the pigs. I had no idea that pigs are veritable giants! They’re huge. Apparently, most pigs are never given the chance to reach full size, which is why we don’t often realize just how enormous they are. Enormous or not, they’re really adorable—even if all they did in my presence was sleep.

Next, we stopped in on the goats. Cassie introduced me to her favorite goat, Fern, while I did my best to remain standing in a flock of very friendly—perhaps overly friendly–goats who were trying to eat the dried alfalfa I’d brought with me to share. Some outtakes:

Next, we checked out the cows. Near to the cow field is an abandoned veal crate, along with a sign that details how veal is produced. I’d read this before, but a reminder about the abuses of veal production was still stirring.

Cassie and I lucked out with a warm job that night: we folded merchandise and sipped tea inside the farm office and store, while Andy and David did outdoorsy chores, and stopped in on us routinely to warm up. Jen made about four hundred vegan meatmalls in the kitchen. By 7:45, we were all tired, and I was becoming mighty cranky (as I inevitably do when I’m hungry!), so we called it a night and drove into town to meet up with our friends Kathleen and her boyfriend, who had just gotten engaged at a bed and breakfast nearby!

Dinner was at the Garden Cafe, an awesome vegetarian café with a raw-friendly menu. I ordered two salads, a side of guacamole, and a warm seaweed dish. We were all hungry when we arrived, and a few of us noted how funny it was that not only I, but Kathleen, too, was carrying an avocado around to snack on. It was dispatched of quickly: that’s me and Cass doing away with the avo, before the entrees even arrived.

We spent the night in a motel that had been lifted directly from the sound lot of a bad horror movie, and we woke up the next morning ready to work.

When we arrived at the farm, we were broken up into different stations: Cass and Jen were selling merchandise, while David, Andy and I were put on the wait staff. This meant a lot of carrying trays and a lot of busing tables, but I knew it would also mean a lot of free food!

The menu for the event featured donations from Blossom and Candle 79, among other great New York City restaurants. The menu included homemade vegan meatballs, black eyed pea cakes from Blossom, dumplings from Candle 79, seitan skewers, roast autumn vegetables, faux turkey with cranberry sauce and vegan stuffing, and three cakes (pumpkin, peanut butter, and chocolate layer) for dessert. Hello, abundance. Can you imagine a better Thanksgiving feast? We volunteers had been promised an all you can eat leftover meal after the event, and while the menu wasn’t bursting with raw options, I knew I’d have plenty of vegan fare to savor.

The morning was spent in a blur of table setting and squatting in front of the giant heat lamps that had been brought in to heat the tent. We all waited for snow and cold – it was misty outside, but not quite bad – as the guests began to arrive. VIPs of the day were the MC, comedian Dan Piraro:

Nathan Runkle, Executive Director of Mercy for Animals, John Phillips of the New York League of Humane Voters, and Jenny herself. A giant raffle was set up in the center of the room, including more incredible vegan swag than I can do justice to here: I don’t remember it all, but included a cool bat from Matt and Nat; an entire Dr. Bronner’s basket; a cookbook basket; spa getaway weekends and free treatments; various bath and body products; a varied gift basket from Herbivore; and (the one I coveted the most) a free 30 class card to Jivamukti yoga!

As visitors piled in, my fellow servers and I began passing out the tasty appetizers. That’s me with my fellow server, Sarah. (Thank you, Sarah, for saving my hind when I had no clue which table needed food and which didn’t):

And a cute photo with Cass:

After the visitors had done away with vegan stuffed mushrooms, seitan and gardein skewers, the ridiculously tasty black eyed pea cakes, and the rest of the apps, we hunkered down for table service.

Who says vegan Thanksgiving isn’t even better than the norm?

As lovely as it was to marvel at the food, the trays were heavy! And the appetizer trays had been twice as heavy. So that quizzical look on my face is not only me thinking “WOW, that looks a whole lot like real turkey, doesn’t it??” but also me thinking “I’d better try really hard to look as though I’m not about to drop these four plates of food on the ground.”

But I didn’t.

As I served the hungry diners their tormenting fragrant and warm food, I got to hear John Philips argue eloquently about the need for legislation to protect animals

and Nathan Runkle describe the real atrocities of the factory farm system.

Finally, Jenny came up to bid her guests a good afternoon and to say a few words about the farm. After sharing a really poignant slideshow about the year’s notable rescues (including Fern, who’d arrived with a very broken leg), Jenny reminded her audience of why veganism matters to her. “This isn’t,” she said, “about having a perfect bowel movement, OK? Veganism is about the animals.”

This statement, of course, could have been written for me. While I’ve always felt very good about not contributing to animal slaughter, and while I take pride in the environmental impact of my veganism, I’ve always been a vegan for health reasons, not for the animals, and I’m the first to admit it. My weekend at the farm didn’t exactly transform this stance, but it did force me to refine it. I believe that it’s perfectly legitimate to avoid animal products for purely dietary reasons. But as any “dietary vegan,” as I sometimes label myself for clarity, will attest, veganism without an emphasis on animals and animal rights can begin to feel slightly disingenuous, or to present sticky ethical questions.

My own ethical question—the main one, anyway—is this: is it fair for me to say that I’m glad that I don’t contribute to farm factory slaughter, or to environmental damage, and yet not embrace these factors as stated motives for my veganism? In other words, isn’t it a little lame that I claim to take pride in those choices, but I absolve myself of real consistency or responsibility by also saying that they’re only added bonuses of my lifestyle, and not principle motives?

More importantly, does learning more about factory farming and spending more time around animals change my feelings about veganism for animal rights?

The answer to the last question is most certainly yes. While I’ve never been much of an animal lover, I also have nothing but contempt for animal torture. What I think is really peculiar is the fact that our society likes to sentimentalize and humanize our pets on the one hand, and abuse and consume farm animals on the other. As Nathan Runkle and Jenny both made abundantly clear, and as Jonathan Safran Foer is stating firmly in his popular new book, Eating Animals, farm animals are as sentient and deserving of compassion as our own dogs and cats. To lavish attention on pets, and consume animal flesh at without discrimination, is a contradiction in terms.

My weekend in Woodstock only gave me more compassion for farm animals (and the people who work to help them). And that compassion is certainly forcing me to redefine the terms of my veganism. More and more, I say (and I meant it) that I’m a vegan for health reasons, and also for compassion.

What will this mean? Right now, I try to buy only vintage or pre-worn leather, but I occasionally buy non-vintage shoes. I’m feeling increasingly compelled to change this stance to only vintage or pre-worn, and possibly all synthetic. I’m not entirely certain where I stand on wool (a great conversation about wool popped up in the comments section of this wonderful post on Crazy Sexy Life this week), but I’m giving it thought; fur is obviously out of the question.

What about food? Well, by now you guys know my dietary stance: all vegan, mostly all raw. This said, honey is a bit of a thorn in my side; I’ve heard conflicting reports on whether honey is, in fact, environmentally sound or not. Most of what I’ve read suggests that local honey from ethical bee farmers is in fact a positive good, but I’ve seen scores of information to the contrary. My feeling these days is that I’ll do my best to use agave, yacon, or maple syrup whenever possible; I will, though, like to point out a hypothetical that my friend Lindsay likes to use, which is this: if I had to choose between white bread that was vegan and whole grain or sprouted bread made with a touch of honey, whole grain would win. In such a case, health concern would trump a strict adherence to veganism.

There are contradictions in my position on the vegan lifestyle right now, and I’m aware of them. Most of them, I hope, are gentle contradictions, but I’m a stickler for consistency, and part of why I’ve written this post is to help articulate some of my own feelings of conflict. What I know for sure is that I’m no longer comfortable saying that I’m vegan only for health (and personal taste) reasons; that felt honest a few years ago, but it doesn’t feel honest now. I’m sure many vegans who began as vegetarians can recall the “slippery slope”—you think you’re just giving up meat, but over time, you simply can’t stomach or feel great about milk or cheese anymore. So too with the ethical dimensions of veganism; it’s hard to do it for a long time without coming to terms with the fact that the lifestyle really is about compassion, as well as health.

In any case, I’m grateful to Cassie (and other vegan friends of mine) for helping me to confront some of the little inconsistencies and fears of commitment in my own vegan stance. Here in the blog world we so often talk about women and men who inspire us. Cassie inspires me as few friends do; she’s as passionate bout animal suffering as she is about helping to alleviate human illness and suffering, and she’s consistent in all ways vegan. I’m inspired by her commitment and lack of apology, and I want her to know it!

My friends and I left Woodstock on Sunday with happily full bellies; after an hour of busing tables, we finally got to devour the leftover food. I helped myself to mountains of perfectly roasted fall vegetables, a big mesclun salad with avocado and carrot dressing from Candle 79, and sampled the very extraordinary vegan peanut butter cake (YOWZA–check out the dessert table before we volunteers had had our way with it!).

As soon as I got back to the city, I dove into my amazing schwag bag from the event, which included vegan soap, herbamare (one of my favorite products, ever), an Alternative Baking Company cookie, Endangered Species chocolate (thank you, Jenny), a vegan keychain, natural tampons, natural dishwashing liquid samples, a gluten-free snack bar, vegan parmesan, and a whole lot more that I’m now forgetting. It also included one of the new mini-Larabars, which I imagine to be a nice dessert, but I really can’t fathom as a snack—it’s tiny!

I’m sending a huge thank you to Jenny and Doug for their hospitality at the farm that weekend, to Cassie for bringing me, to the guest speakers for inspiring me, and to the weather for not snowing on me, after all.

I’m leaving you with pictures taken by the lovely Derek Goodwin, who captured the event in perfect detail, and walked around with a sticker that said “vegan paparazzi” all weekend. Word. You can check out Derek’s own website for more on his work.

To read more about WFAS, please check out their website here. It includes information about factory farming, about the farm’s resident animals, and about volunteering.

Have a great night, all.

xo