Lisa's Vegan Murphy's Law, or: But I ...

In response to Lisa's Vegan Murphy's Law:

But I only eat salad.
There is no protein in my diet.
I am anaemic. So wan.
I cannot lift the spoon to my mouth because I am so weak.
I have wasted muscles.
I only eat organic, biodynamic fruit that has fallen from a tree.
I sneer at Level 5 vegans.
I crave bloody flesh and secretly devour it at any opportunity.
I cannot truly envisage a life without chocolate and cheese.
I am mightily tempted by "but it's a just a little bit of ...".
I cannot cook.
I do not enjoy eating.
I do not understand the Circle of Life (although Simba has promised to explain it to me).
If only I got to raise a lamb as a child and then slaughter it for Sunday dinner I wouldn't be squeamish.
I cannot satisfactorily answer the question "But if we all stopped eating meat then what would happen to all the cows, huh?".
I am swayed by your arguments about our dominance in the food chain.
Because I care about animal rights I automatically do not care about human rights.
I am "just going too far".
I enjoy criticising my hosts and their food.
I love to preach and lecture.
I never encounter obnoxious omnis who bait me and wait for just one response, which qualifies as preaching and lecturing on my behalf.

Kerry Greenwood's latest book 'Forbidden Fruit' - thoughts and an invitation, or: an open letter

Dear Kerry,

I write as a long time fan of both the Phryne Fisher and Corinna Chapman books. One thing that I have always admired about both series, particularly Earthly Delights, is the sensible and inclusive way that you handle people and groups who are often misunderstood by society - Wiccans, S&M, recovering addicts, goths and the homeless for example.

I was surprised to read the portrayal of vegans and animals rights groups in Forbidden Fruit. While I understand that artistic licence can be invoked for literary means, I found the portrayal of the motivations, philosophies and people confusing and disappointing.

I am vegan and focus very heavily on making sure that my decisions and ethical positions are reasonable, rational and accessible to others. Even the most 'extreme' liberationists I know, of which there are very few compared to the mainstream midground, fall well short of the characters in the book. I am concerned that these characters, untempered by some exposition on what most vegans are really like, perpetuate the myth that we are all foaming-at-the-mouth fanatics about to launch ourselves over the dinner table to wrestle the steak from your fork. We really do cop a lot of criticism from the uninformed and the belligerent, and we work very hard to engage and explain to the interested.

I was surprised that there was no point at which any reasons for veganism were put forward even in explanation, even though these reasons range from animal liberation to welfare to environmentalism to health. There are as many reasons to be vegan as there are vegans, but I didn't read anything that might imply that these reasons might be valid and rational. Vegans do not eat, wear or consume animal products not because we are slightly unhinged and extremists, but because we care deeply about animals, the environment and our health, and because we have thought deeply and carefully about our decision. I would have loved to have seen some acknowledgement of this in the book, even in a small way to counteract the perception that we are all Sarahs and hopeful cannibals, or Janeens who secretly crave and sneak dairy.

And we love food! I am yet to meet a vegan who is not obsessed with food and, particularly, baking. We have regular potlucks and most of us blog about food too. I would love to suggest a few blogs that you might consider reading, if you might be interested in reading a little of what we do (and cook)? I attach a list below, as well as some sites which try to explain why we feel that eggs and dairy are just as objectionable as meat, which seemed to be a sticking point in the book.

I would also like to extend an open, and very warm, invitation to you to attend one of our potlucks. I promise that the food will be delicious, and the company unextreme! We love to share our food and cooking with one another and recent triumphs include tiramisu, sausage rolls, tequila cupcakes, savoury watermelon salad and (my own) peanut butter ice cream. We would love for you to come along; we have a great community and appreciate the opportunity to share it. You would be most welcome at any time.

With thanks for two wonderful series of books, and in hope that you will have a read of our blogs and perhaps admire the baking,

Warm regards,

Rachel

PS: I am writing this as an open letter and publishing it on my blog in the interests of my own transparency. Please feel free to respond publicly too.


Blog roll:
www.misstprincessvegan.blogspot.com (my own blog)
www.bluerthanpink.blogspot.com (Kristy)
www.cupcakekitteh.blogspot.com (Mandee)
www.lisadempster.com.au (Lisa)
www.fairestfeed.blogspot.com (Pip)
www.veganabouttown.blogspot.com (Steph)
www.veganyumyum.com (USA - Lolo)
www.herestheveg.blogspot.com (Cindy and Michael)
www.theppk.com (USA: website of vegan chefs with massive baking component)

Other sites:
www.animalsaustralia.org
www.voiceless.org.au

I am two! or: Veganniversary

On the second anniversary of my veganism – my veganniversary – I have been noticing how my understanding has changed since mid-September 2007, when I had a Skinny Bitch-inspired epiphany at my desk.

I have broadened, and somewhat deepened, my understanding of animal rights and welfarism; I have read and read about food equity and down-the-chain cruelties to humans and animals alike. I am better informed and more widely read – and so I suppose it is inevitable that I have noticed changes in how I feel.

I am, two years on, both more and less committed to mainstreaming. I began with the firm conviction that I would do best if I was open and calm, and I still believe wholeheartedly that if I am the only vegan many of my friends know, then the example I set is especially important. I can be most influential when I am most approachable. To this end, I try to be reasonable, rational and intelligent about my positions, and relaxed about social eatering situations. I try bring food to share, and not put my hosts out. I try to adopt an equitable discussion style and I believe very much that although I decry the happy meat-schmappy schmeat movement, that when someone is proud enough of the changes they have made in their lives to buy organic meat or free-range eggs, that I should tell them that I am proud of them too. I believe that to critique someone else’s choices in these situations is counter-productive and plain rude. When they are ready to talk more, I will be ready to talk with them.

I want veganism to become mainstream so that it is accessible and understandable, and a market force. I want veganism to be normalised and demystified and I want it to become as widespread as possible. I see this as the way in which what was originally such a tiny, fringe movement can spread its message and practices to people who may otherwise have no understanding or knowledge of what we do and why we do it.

But I have also noticed that I have developed a small resistance. I find it harder and harder to be silent and I find that my thoughts as I watch someone devour their meaty dinner are more and more filled with disbelief and frustration. I feel this more keenly and more often that I did two years ago. I am more aware, and I am more committed, and I think this has lowered my tolerance threshold.

I have also found friends. Through blogging, potlucking and writing I have found a whole community, spread beyond the Veganville of Brunswick to Perth, Sydney, Brisbane, Townsville, Chicago and those who I know only through their comments. I have found people who I both like and admire, and to meet people who you not only respect but whose company you enjoy is a pleasure.

Although my primary motivation is animals, I know and believe that I am also doing the right thing for the environment and for my health, and that sustains my belief in veganism as a lifestyle, not a diet like locavism or a practice like recycling. It is an everything. There is nothing that would make me want to go back, and there is nothing that would make me feel that I had to.

This is especially relevant as I look towards the next few years of my life which I hope will contain babies and little creatures running around a noisy house. I am certain that having a vegan pregnancy will only benefit both me and my baby, which stems from my deep conviction that a typical vegan diet is three quadzillion times better for you than a typical omnivorous one, and that a consciously healthy vegan diet (the one in which I give up BBQ shapes, beer, chips and spring rolls) will give me the healthiest pregnancy possible, and my babies the healthiest body and mind I can give.

I like to think that I spread a little understanding amongst those I know who don’t know any other vegans. If I can at least cause one omnivore to say to another “Oh, I know a vegan. She’s ok”, then I’ve done a little dance and made a little love, and next time, one omnivore might say to another “Oh, she’s not a pain in the arse”, and the time after that, one omnivore might say to another “I don’t agree with her, but maybe she’s got something sensible to say”, and the time after that, one omnivore might say to another “Let’s not order steak tonight”.

At least, I like to think that I debunk a stereotype. That is, there is a place for the peace-loving, mung-bean-eating, hemp-wearing, loopy-doopy hippie, and there is a place for the activist, militant ALF types. But their place is where they are, and my place is here.

I have never doubted nor wavered in my knowledge that this is it, forever.

Sadly, sadly, or: I well

I've had my first vegan food related cry.

I'm not an emotional person and as a rule my teary moments are restricted to funerals and times of self-induced self-pity. It's just not something that comes easily to me and I try hard to keep a publicly positive demeanor most of the time. I don't well up and I don't sob.

A recent work retreat had me otherwise. A number of factors contributed to a bittersweet few days, including the departure of a good friend and colleague across the ditch, but it was really the food that got me.

Last year we went to the same venue and I only attended for one day. The buffet lunch was not vegan-friendly but ever prepared, I had brought my own green bag full of Saladas, Nuttelex, Vegemite and Tofutti slices which kept me full. This year, staying for two days, I knew that our branch's efficient and thoughtful EA had already arranged a vegan menu for me (thanks Sarah) , including an excellent looking dinner, and I was more hopeful of a better spread at lunch. Just in case, Scout-like, I still brought my little green bag.

And I needed it. Nothing on the buffet was ok except for some dried apricots and dates (and the ubiquitous mixed green salad). Some items were labelled and vegetarian and gluten free, and I assumed that if they went to that trouble, then anything vegan would also be labelled. Bucking up, I ate my Saladas and Vegemite at the table once again.

I returned to my room feeling downhearted, but confused about why I was taking it so hard. I'm more than used to having limited options; indeed having made my choices it's not something I really like to make a fuss about. I'm used to eating different food from everyone else at the table, and I'm used to being prepared and BYOing. And then I realised that I was embarrassed.

It was a shock. I am not embarrassed of my veganism - I am proud and happy to talk about it until I'm blue in the face. But I was embarrassed to sit at the table amongst my friends and colleagues and have to pull food out of my own bag and make it in front of them. I was embarrassed that I had nothing nice to eat. I was embarrassed to be the centre of attention. I was embarrassed to be receiving stares and comments. I was embarrassed to have to explain why I couldn't eat the roast vegetables (butter) or bread (milk solids, whey, egg). I was embarrassed that people would think that vegans never get to eat good food and that it must be so very difficult, when I really try to tell people that it's not.

If it was a problem to cater for me, then I wouldn't have minded, but I would have made sure that I had something proper to eat.

I wrote a lengthy essay on the feedback form. I went to dinner and was pleased to have a separate dish from the vegetarians that was filling and well made. I spoke to Sarah, who had already spoken to the organisers, and they had said that there were vegan options at lunch and I should just ask about them. I put the feedback form in my bag and decided not to hand it in.

At lunch on the second day I did as I was asked and spoke to one of the staff about which buffet options were vegan. I was hoping it was the rice paper rolls.

She went to the kitchen. It wasn't the rice paper rolls or the mashed potato or the roast vegetables or the tomato soup or any of the other hot meals that I thought might be ok. She returned with a bowl of green salad. With cashews and sesame seeds. And that was it.

I like green salad; I'm all in favour of green salad; and it was certainly a big serve. But it was a green salad, and it should be a side dish, not a main meal on a cold day with twenty other options on the buffet table.

I ate some of it, went outside by myself to eat the rest of my Saladas and Vegemite, and got a little bit teary.

Again, it's not that I expect a full three course meal. It's not that I demand to be fed a gourmet alternative. It's that I want some honesty about what the kitchen is and isn't prepared to make for me, and a green salad, even with cashews, just doesn't cut it. I don't think I should be put in a position where I have to rely on food brought from home when my work has paid for all my meals. I don't think I should be so upset and embarrassed that I have to leave the table to eat on my own. I don't think that an international standard conference centre should think that a bowl of pick'n'mix salad is an acceptable meal. I would have happily driven into the nearest shopping centre to arrange my own food if catering for me was a problem, but that option wasn't given.

And so I welled up, and I left that feedback form where they'd find it. I hope they ring me because I would like the opportunity to explain in person why I am so upset. I would like to explain that vegan food is easy and tasty. I would like to explain that I was made to feel like a pain in the arse and unimportant. I would like to explain that I feel really really sad. I would like to explain that they should refund my workplace for my two lunches.

Yoga & Yoghurt, or: Channel 7 should get some better researchers.

Hey, Packed To The Rafters, honey & yoghurt are not vegan. Especially not when blended together instead of cake icing. Nor do vegan cakes necessarily have to be made without suagr, and if we were going to use a fruit-based sweetener it would probably be maple or agave syryp, not just fruit juice. Also, not all of us are sanctimonious yoga freaks like the (embarassingly named for me) Rachel character. Just fyi.

Got Milk? or: Instances In Which I Wish I'd Been Wittier

I went for my morning caffeine injection. I usually go to the fabulous Cafe 53 on Flinders Lane where the wonderful Michelle offers skinny soy milk, a loyalty card (very useful for when I'm broke, which is often enough that I save my freebies on purpose), and has never, ever made me a bad coffee.

This morning, however, I was in a rush so I had to go closer. I won't name the cafe, but let's say that just because you are situated near Government offices doesn't give you an automatic arsehole entitlement.

I asked for a large soy latte (after, I should add, noting the styrofoam cups on offer... very pleb). That is to say that I entered into a parol contract with the vendor for him to provide me with one cup of coffee ordered to my specifications in consideration of a set fee. I did not order any nasty attitude, but it was provided for free.


Me: "Could I please have a large soy latte?"

Mr Smartypants: "Did you know that recent studies have linked soy to an increase in cancer?" (Please imagine this said in a very snotty, smartypants way. It was not at all in a manner that expressed his deep and genuine concern for my health).

Me: "Everything has been linked to an increase in cancer!" (wishing that I had been more cutting and pointed).

Random guy behind me in the line: "And it's been linked to a decreased sperm count in males."

Mr Smartypants: "That's it! A decreased sperm count!"


Now I don't mind discussions. If he'd said "Have you heard about that recent study that linked increased soy consumption to a rise in the risk of certain cancers? Do you have any thoughts, oh paying customer?", then I would have come up with a thoughtful, insightful and very polite answer that might have sparked an interesting discussion about the ethical, health and environmental implications of intensive dairy farming. As it was I wanted to vault over the edge of the coffee cart and karate chop him in the nose. Instead I went back to the office and bitched about it to many many (many!) people, including one colleague who suggested that the appropriate response was "Have you heard that an increase in dickheads leads to a decrease in coffee shop patronage?". Love your work.


A couple of weeks ago I went to an orangey cocktail bar on Brunswick Street. I had a look at their coffee menu, and it said something along these lines:

No soy, no decaf. No bullshit, no heartbreak...

(blah blah etc)

They had conveniently left a feedback form. I pointed out that this kind of attitude might be amusing amongst coffee 'purists', but was otherwise hurtful, pretentious and just a little too cool for school (I actually wrote "too cool for school". I thought it summed it up nicely).

Seriously, get over yourselves coffee people. Use some manners.