Vegan with a Vengeance

kitchen equipment without electrocuting yourself, and reading up on veganism on “teh Intarweb.” Thanks to Isa’s cat, Fizzle, I’m now well versed in food history. And I’ve accumulated enough “punk point” cooking tips that I’m hoping to cash them in for something more punk than my current buttondown work shirt.
    Eating is a moral act or a political statement, depending on whom you ask. When you choose to stop eating animal products and supporting big business, you prove both statements to be correct. Vegan with a Vengeance will make that a lot easier. And it also helps me feel a little more punk.

introduction

What It’s All About
    WELCOME TO Vegan with a Vengeance ! Here you’ll find a collection of vegan recipes that I’ve created over the past sixteen years. Some recipes I dreamed recipes that I’ve created over the past sixteen years. Some recipes I dreamed up, some are classic favorites that I veganized, and some are dishes inspired by food that I’ve eaten at restaurants and just had to make for myself. Since the book says VEGAN in really big letters on the front cover and you probably wouldn’t have picked it up if you weren’t interested in vegan cooking, I am going to guess that you know all about veganism and think it’s just great. So I am going to skip the song and dance about how healthy, ethical, and fun veganism can be.
    I cook because I love to eat, it’s as simple as that. But why “Vegan with a Vengeance”? Such a nice Jewish girl with such anger? (By the way, you will have to read parts of this book in the voice of a Jewish mother—if I had to deal with it, so do you.) Well, not so much anger, but like it or not, vegans have something to prove. The image of the emaciated vegan living in depravity on a handful of nuts, grass, and brown rice is tiresome. I want to feed this proverbial vegan. But we have something to prove to each other. It seems that many vegans depend on store-bought processed food. Of course, I indulge in frozen veggie burgers now and then, but that’s not the point. The point is that a vegan can go his or her whole life without ever laying a vegetable on a cutting board. I cringe at this notion for several reasons: (1) It is culinarily incorrect. Great cooks depend on fresh ingredients; nothing beats homemade. I am hell-bent on making a great cook out of each and every vegan. (2) It’s expensive. One of the benefits of a vegan diet is its affordability. Beans bought in bulk will beat out a package of veggie crumbles every time. (3) It makes us vegans dependent on huge corporations with shady policies. It’s nicer to spend our money on locally grown vegetables and small independent businesses wherever possible. Don’t worry, those veggie burgers will still be bought by people with heart problems or on diets, and I think that is more their target market anyway. Okay, I’ve made my point—I promise that the heavy-handedness ends here.

So Who Am I and How Did I Come to Write This Cookbook?
    YOU DESERVE TO know. After all, you are about to trust me with your taste buds. A cookbook isn’t just light beach reading; it becomes a part of your life. In a few months’ time it will be scribbled with your notes and splashed with tamari and tomato sauce. Its food-stained, dog-eared pages will bring back memories of a potluck or the time you spilled an entire bottle of vanilla extract while baking your best friend’s birthday cake.
    My story begins in Brooklyn, New York. My mother swears up and down that we were a family of domestics, baking cookies and wearing aprons, making light conversation over the cutting board. Passing the salt. I hate to disagree because she’s my mother and I love her to pieces, but she taught me a lot of things and cooking wasn’t one of them. (If you needed to know how to curse in Yiddish, though, she could help you out.) The fact was I spent most evenings eating dinner at friends’ houses. No need to break out the violins; the cool thing about it was that growing up in Brooklyn and mooching off of everyone’s parents gave me a wonderful sense of culinary diversity. Italian, Puerto Rican, Jewish, Indian—I got to experience it all and those tastes and flavors are a part of who I am and what I cook now.
    The Brooklyn I grew up in wasn’t the Brooklyn that we know today—that of lattes and Pilates, converted lofts and