“Love is blind. And sometimes deaf and dumb.”
This is the most important thing you will read in this book: Regardless of your food politics, take warning. Do Not Try to Convert Your Partner. Attempting to bring them over to your side—whatever side that might be—will be detrimental to your relationship, and will possibly make you look like a dick. Even if it works, they may resent you, and they will probably (definitely) gorge themselves on break-up chicken wings if things don’t work out, just to spite you.
Originally we planned to put this note in the intro chapter. But then we realized many people skip the intro because they’re seeking the instant gratification that Chapter One promises. This note is so important, we just didn’t want to risk it being glossed over in favor of the sexier, more alluring Chapter One.
Even if you’re not overtly attempting to change your partner, you should also avoid doing that thing where you secretly hope they will change “on their own.” Many vegans enter veg-fusion relationships hoping that one day their love interest will make the switch “independently.” We’re housing “on their own” and “independently” in obnoxious quotations because in reality, most people who get into relationships hoping their partners will change also indulge in some sort of persuasion. This is what we call the “vegucation” style of vegan-on-omni dating, a guerrilla-esque method of conversion. It goes like this: seduce an omni, hook them, demand they eat your seitan sammy, and—bam—they are vegan.
DATinG SOmEOnE WITH THE HOPE THAT THEY WILL onE DAY CHAnGE Is ILLOGICAL.
Okay, it’s not always such an aggressive approach. Sometimes it’s more like a semi-unintentional slow-prod, or a sideways crabwalk into conversion. A plant-muncher starts dating an omni, engages them in thought-provoking conversations about veganism, crosses their fingers, and secretly hopes for vegan osmosis to occur. This seems innocent enough—all you’re doing is educating them, right? Wrong. There’s a fine line between educating and lecturing. Your views are yours, your passions are yours, and like Ayindé always says, you can take a horse to water but you can’t hold their head under. It’s totally illegal.
Dating someone with the hope they will one day change is illogical. Say it with us:
I can never change the person I am with. I should not expect my partner to change because I want them to. The only person I can change is myself.
ZOË: So if you shouldn’t try and convert your partner, then what should you do? Let’s talk for a minute about soul mates. Wait, wait, don’t close the book—I don’t mean soul mates in the “one person for everyone” sense. What I am referring to is finding another person who has a spirit and energy that mirrors and matches your own. This applies just as much to your friendships as it does to your romantic connections. It also applies to animals. I’m pretty sure my cat and I are kindred spirits—we are both really fickle and like to sleep on the radiator.
Don’t look for someone you think you can convert one day. Instead, focus on finding a person who is right for you in as many facets as possible. If their level of compassion truly reflects your own, then they might (might, I said!) be curious about your lifestyle, excited to learn, and eager to try it on. But they have to want it for themselves. Be their muse, not their dictator. No one likes a dictator. So, get that “if only they were vegan” dream out of your head. Look for someone who appeals to you as is. Cataloguing possible improvements will only lead to disappointment, and again, it kinda makes you look like a dick.
Remember: You can’t bully someone into thinking your way is the right way. And why would you want to? So you can have some vegan arm candy? If it’s not their own idea, they will probably resent you. (Remember the post-breakup wing binge.)
So for starters, focus on finding someone you truly connect with.
What it means to make a connection
ZOÉ: I’ve gotten a lot of shit for being a vegan who is open to dating omnivores. An iEatGrass.com troll, er, commenter, even called me a “vegan whore” once. According to him, engaging in some non-vegan P in V is akin to “stabbing animals in the back.” I wrote him off as seriously sexually frustrated, but really, am I a bad vegan? Am I sleeping with the enemy? Maybe—but you might too if you saw what the enemy was packing in his boxers. Just kidding. I’m not that shallow. (Maybe a little.)
In reality, the reason I don’t cringe when a date does dairy is this: being vegan doesn’t guarantee compatibility, and more importantly, it doesn’t guarantee a connection. Do I want someone to share my love for tempeh Reubens and fuzzy-headed baby chicks? Sure. But I also want someone who “gets me,” who is supportive, passionate, driven, smart, funny, attentive, caring, and—of course—sexy as f*ck. And what if I find that person and, shit, he also likes to cook up a steak on his George Foreman? Then what? I write them off?
When I stew over my own relationships, the thought of missing out on past so-in-love-my-face-is-numb situations because my man eats meat is laughable. Scoffable, even. While veganism is an important lifestyle choice for me, what I value in a partner above all else is a real connection. The type of connection that has you talking like you’ve known each other for years. A connection that has all of your friends thinking you’ve joined a cult or moved to rural North Carolina to have a baby in secret, because they haven’t seen you in months—you’ve been in bed the whole time with your new beau, listening to Cat Power and marinating in each other’s juices.
You can’t help who you’re attracted to: vegan, omni, your brother’s new girlfriend, your third cousin (eek!). This is a truth that has caused problems for millions—I mean, who hasn’t listened to Jessie’s Girl? Rick Springfield knows what’s up. Attraction extends beyond aligning lifestyles, and this connection is where the vegan-on-omni dating dilemma is rooted.
Vegans make up a scant percent of the population, so the majority of the people you meet in the wild are not vegan. If you’re solely searching for a vegan mate (what the veg world calls a “vegansexual”), then you have to eliminate nearly everyone you come across organically from the potential partner pool. This is difficult, and what’s more difficult is making a connection with someone, and then telling those butterflies in your belly to calm the f*ck down because this newcomer eats meat.
To complicate matters further, meeting another vegan doesn’t automatically cue the church bells. Even when your lifestyles do seem to align, there is no guarantee you will like them. They could be obnoxious or boring or a religious zealot. But just for fun, suppose you do like them. They’re everything you’ve ever hoped for and more. They couldn’t be more perfect if you made them up during a little solo fantasy session. Well, that’s great, but it doesn’t mean your feelings will be requited, or that you’re going to be compatible.
Ahhh, compatibility. While I have met many kind, caring vegans, I have also met some real judgmental asshats. Being vegan doesn’t automatically make you immune from douchebaggery or ensure you’re a terrific fit for every other vegan that waltzes through the door. We are not a ‘one size fits all’ type of pre-packaged deal.
Vegan or not, I want someone who is accepting of me—from my smoothest of moments to my most erratic behavior, my Friday night ensemble to my Saturday morning breath, and my love for animals, the environment, and my body. They don’t need to drink my vegan Kool-Aid—although I promise it’s tasty. If they accept and support my choices, then that’s enough. Why? Because our connection goes beyond my veganism!
Before I talk myself in circles, let’s get to know each other better. And what better way to get to know each other than talking about our exes! That’s what girls really do in public bathrooms, in case any men out there were wondering. We talk about our exes, and deconstruct the theory of relativity.
You know Zoë, it’s funny—that’s what most guys talk about as well, their last relationship. That and, of course, socio-political inequalities in the developing world. But anyway, I’ll start. I met my Ex, Ginger*, at the Moth. You know that event you probably heard about on NPR where people get up and tell stories? Yes, that one. So picture a crisp fall evening in SOHO. I was working as the executive chef at a popular café/restaurant in Union Square. I had just gotten off my shift and needed to blow off some steam. Yes, I blow off steam with red wine and watching strange people telling spoken word-ish stories.
By the time I got there someone was yelling that everyone from basically me to the back of the line wrapping around the corner wouldn’t get in. So I snuck in by cutting the line. I figured no one would stop me if I furrowed my brow and looked like an ABM (angry black man). To avoid any
ATTRACTIOn EXTEnDS BEYOnD ALIGninG LIFESTYLES, AnD THIS connECTion IS WHERE THE vEGAn-on-omni DATING DILEmmA IS ROOTED.
noise from tattletales, I quickly took the closest empty seat which happened to be next to Ginger. I tapped her on the shoulder—she was in the middle of talking to her girls—and asked if the spot was taken. She gave me the “oh really, that’s your line?” look, rolled her eyes, said “no,” and turned her back to me. I was all like “whatevs, I’m just trying to sit, don’t nobody want to talk to you!” Except she was pretty and had a big booty, and a nice smile. There is a song about this, right?
She was giving me the cold shoulder, and to make things more awkward, we were two of five black people in the building so everyone just assumed we came together. Luckily, at some point during the night, she warmed up to me. I would later learn that her friend Wendy had encouraged her to “stop being a B and talk to him, he’s cute!” Thanks, Wendy!
Ginger’s opening line was “So are you going to get up there and perform?” Um no, I said, I’m just here to watch; it’s actually my first time. Ginger responded with “Oh, no? Hmm, you look like the type.” I asked her to explain what the “type” was, and she sort of looked me up and down and said, “You live in Brooklyn right?” Yes, I did! I guess she took my regular uniform of jeans and a T-shirt and nappy ‘fro to mean I was ready to start dropping prose in staccato.
By this point, I could see she was a pistol. Just my type. Before the night was over, we had a couple more bantered exchanges. I told her I was a chef, and she mentioned she was an executive. I commented on how young she looked for an executive. “I guess I’m a young executive.” Touché. Later, while bundling up at the door in preparation for the cold NYC night air, Wendy piped up again, “So you’re a chef, do you know where we can go get some good soup?” I started to think aloud, “Well there’s Cafeteria…” Ginger cut me off with “We’ll find something, I’m sure. You have my number, so use it. Have a good night.” Again, ain’t nobody trying to go get soup with you, girl! Bye!
Following the rules of dating, I didn’t call her for a week. And when I did, she pretended not to remember me. Nice try.
Me: “It’s Ayindé, the chef, the vegan chef.”
Ginger: “Ohhh. Hi.”
We chatted for awhile and tried to set up a date, but she was out of town with her job for most of the next two weeks, so we ended up just having more phone calls and this old-school “oh look, it’s been two hours” phone conversation courtship. Finally we managed to set up a date. We met at a restaurant in Brooklyn, and she ordered the burger, medium. I had the edamame and fries. Then she asked the question.
Her: “So you’re like vegan vegan, huh?”
Me: “Yep.”
Her: “Wow.”
This first-date conversation is par for the course for me. I can almost read my answers from a script. Yes (I’m vegan), no (I don’t know what steak tastes like), yes (all my life), yes (that means no butter), no (I don’t cheat), yes (I’ve been curious but not that curious). Ginger mentioned she was raised vegetarian, so she sort of knew about the lifestyle, but ended up going the opposite way.
“Why limit yourself?” she asked.
Her job included entertaining clients and she had no time to cook at the crib. We were polar opposites. She was loving what New York is known for: over 20,000 restaurants. She had her list of places that were best for meetings, breakfast, lunch, drinks, dinner, date nights, and late night spots. I, on the other hand, knew all the vegan hole-in-the-wall spots like the Punjabi spot all the cabbies go to on the LES (Lower East Side—cabbies know all the dope spots) or the $2.50 falafel in the village. And going out to breakfast seems crazy, partly because I can never find better pancakes than I can make myself.
You have to understand that at this point in my life, I really only had short-term relationships in mind. For one thing, I lived in NYC, and there really is no reason to date only one person for more than the winter. Coupled with the fact that I had not met a vegan or vegetarian woman that I was THAT attracted to (or an omnivore for that matter), and my thinking was, “I’ll give it three months.”
But Ginger was a bit more aggressive. We had a couple of dates between her hopping out of town for business. One night, on our third date or so, we met for drinks—which we did partly to take the veganism off the table, so to speak. We had a few extra drinks that night, and in the cab afterwards I leaned in for the cheek kiss and she kissed me on the mouth! Awww, yeah! The cab was parked outside my house, and I understood the look she was giving me and invited her up. And so it began—the most definitive relationship I’d had thus far.
I met Daniel* my freshman year of college. We were sitting on the same bench outside of our shared dorm. He was clipping his toenails. I was smoking a cigarette (I know, I know! Ahhh, youth). Anyway, years later, while pillow-talking, we found out that at the exact moment of introduction, we were both secretly thinking one another was disgusting. If mutual disgust doesn’t spell romance, then I don’t know what does. But really, who clips their toenails in public?
Later that year, the toe-clipping year, we ended up circling in the same group of friends. I was dating this guy who would only eat bacon and tuna salad. Obviously, that wasn’t going to last, and so after I broke up with Tuna, I started eyeing Dan. And flirting with Dan. And showing up at places I knew he was hanging out…like his dorm room.
Eventually, after several weeks of minor league stalking, everyone knew I liked Daniel. Everyone except for Daniel, that is. A shy, quiet guy by nature, Dan was showing absolutely no special interest in me. Of course, this made me like him even more. Later, over more pillow talk, I found out Dan didn’t know I was interested in him, despite the fact that all of our friends—male and female—were onto me. I’m not sure what was up with our friends. Aren’t dudes supposed to let other dudes know when a girl is into them? Isn’t it like man code or something?
AREn’T DUDES SUPPOSED TO LET OTHER DUDES know WHEn A GIRL IS into THEm?
As Dan had no idea I was into him, you can imagine his surprise when, after several double shots of Burnett’s coconut vodka, chugged out of a shot glass emblazoned with the slogan “Size Matters,” (remember, youth!), I worked up the courage to make my move. A group of us were hanging out at the campus pizza place, and so my roommate stood guard as I stealthily followed Dan into the men’s bathroom.
By this point, I hope a few things are clear: (1) this is obviously a love story to withstand the tests of time; and (2) I can be sort of predatory when it comes to dating. I also tend to draw from my friend pool often.
F*ck the friend zone. I do what I want. I actually think dating your friends is the best way to go. Most of my serious relationships bloomed from deep friendships. Think of it this way: If you date someone you were friends with first, you have probably already peeked into their psyche. Maybe you’ve even met their family. You know they’re not completely crazy. Or maybe you know that they are, and that’s what you like about them. While a new side of them will emerge once you remove each other’s clothes, you have at least an inkling of what you’re getting into. You’ve seen the way they treat their partners. You know how they take their coffee and what music and hobbies they’re into. They won’t horrify you by telling you three weeks in that they’re “not really a cat person” or invite you to join them on an Ayahuasca spirit journey. Also, if someone has watched me act batshit crazy during previous breakups, and still want to date me, well then they must be a keeper.
If the feelings are brewing, and the sexual tension is present, breaking out of the friend zone is sort of like sliding through an unlocked back door instead of drunkenly hunting for your keys at the front. It’s a bit more graceful. Of course, there’s always that risk of it going bad and ruining your friendship. But all of the best things in life are the riskiest, are they not? I mean, that’s the only reason unprotected sex is still a thing. It’s dangerous, but damn if it doesn’t feel good. (Public Service Announcement: wear condoms!)
Oh right, back to Dan. So I followed him into that bathroom, my roomie holding it down outside to block any intruders. Upon closing the door behind me, I momentarily blacked out. I regret never knowing what classy way I managed to confess my feelings to Daniel, but I am sure it went something like, “I want to make out.”
When I came to, I was perched on the sink, my legs wrapped around Dan’s waist, engaging in some PG-13 heavy petting. I didn’t know how I got from the door to the sink, but I was happy that things seemed to be going well. Unfortunately, our storybook moment was ruined when a drunken junior managed to evade my roommate, stumbled into the bathroom, and immediately began vomiting. In between wretches, he kept turning to Dan and uttering a very convincing and pitiful, “I’m so sorry, dude. Just keep going, I’m so sorry.”
And so our relationship began.
Dan was not a vegan. He was not even a vegetarian. He was, however, a happy, healthy eater. His excitement to try everything, whether it was a burger or tempeh teriyaki, put a buffer between our opposing lifestyles. Eating was one of the myriad reasons why things didn’t work out with Tuna. We were so different from one another; even killer foreplay couldn’t distract me from our juxtapositions. Well, not for too long, anyway.
So let’s say you’ve met someone new, and in many ways, they are different from you. You have lifestyles that may not exactly align—in fact, some of your views may even directly oppose one another. But you like them, you seem to click, and the sexual connection is f*ck-me-sideways insane.
Unfortunately, butterflies in your tummy or a killer sexual connection are not reason enough to keep a relationship going. If they were, we’d all be marrying those one night stands from college. Sometimes your differences—and the way you handle them—are going to cancel out your passion party. I call these differences “deal-breakers.”
In the upcoming chapters, we will be giving you a plethora of tips for making your relationship work from every angle. But before you’ve got a toothbrush at their place and maybe a shared pet or—for those of us scared of commitment and responsibility—shared small kitchen appliances, we want to help you spot a situation in which your differences may be a deal-breaker. Maybe you’ve only been on one date. Maybe you’re already fuggling (that’s snuggling with an F). But before it goes any further, stop filling your Pinterest boards with fantasy wedding ideas and think hard about whether or not your differences are going to make your relationship impossible in the long run.
If you believe in one thing, and your other believes in, well, another thing, then shit can get messy. Check out the following section for a handful of tips that can help you tell if your opposing beliefs are deal-breakers.
How to Spot a Deal Breaker
ZOË: How big are your differences? You know what I’m gonna say: size matters. At least, it certainly does when it comes to your differences. Opposites attract all the time, and heated debates can be incredibly sexy. But when it comes to major lifestyle choices, you need to take a step back, break away from whatever pheromones you’re drunk on, and consider these questions:
• Are your differences manageable, or do they cause conflict on a daily basis?
• Do they make you incompatible?
• Will they get in the way of any future you may have together? (Sorry to freak your freak, commitment-phobes.)
Say you’re a vegan activist, and you just met a hunting fanatic. You spend all your time volunteering for Farm Sanctuary while they spend hours at Cabela’s. This is a difference that will certainly rear its ugly head and wreak havoc on anything you’re trying to build together. But maybe you’re an omnivore who just met a hottie behind the counter at that local juice bar. They are all hopped up on kale and have six rescued pit-bulls. Yes, your bacon habit may be an eye-roller for them, but this difference is a bit more manageable. It may take separate pots and pans, but I wouldn’t throw in the relationship towel just yet.
AYINDÉ: Can you trust them? Trust is a tricky thing. It’s what’s implied when you say “I love you” to each other for the first time; you really mean “I trust you not to be a dick about my heart, okay?” “Yes, I will not be a dick with your heart” is how “I love you too” roughly translates. Trust, like love, is an action. So, can you trust that the person you’re with respects your choices and is not going to slip a pat of butter in your green beans ‘cause it’s easier than making two separate sides?
ZOË: Can you communicate? This is huge, and is important to pay attention to in the beginning of a new relationship. When you talk about your differences, does it cause a big blow-out fight? If you can each calmly state your opinions, respect each other’s opposing beliefs, and maybe even learn something, then this is a good sign.
However, if you’re screaming about animal husbandry while your boyfriend tells you to stop acting like an insane person because “one burger isn’t hurting anybody,” this will be a major issue, especially if it leads to you shoving the issue under a rug. Not talking about a problem doesn’t mean the problem doesn’t exist, and you can’t ignore those elephants forever. Eventually they will surface, and no matter how steamy the make-up sex is, having the same argument over and over without an ability to see eye-to-eye will not lead you to relationship bliss. This is why I had to swear off dating Leos back in 2008. Stubborn-on-stubborn makes a big ole sloppy mess.
AYINDÉ: Are they willing to grow? My parents have been married for forty years, throughout which they have grown a lot. They went from sharing cartons of cigarettes to creating vegan babies and a mini-vegan empire. Why? Because they were willing to try new things—things that were good for them, their family, and the planet. If your potential partner is not willing to grow with you, making changes can be hard. They don’t necessarily have to be willing to make changes themselves, but they do have to be willing to support your changes. No support at home makes everything hard, especially changing the way you eat.
TRUST, LIKE LOVE, is An ACTIOn.
ZOË. Are you willing to compromise? I know I really like someone when I am willing to compromise. If you’re not willing to give in order to take, then your differences are probably a deal-breaker. As a vegan, if you would never allow animal products in your home, then you can’t expect to build a future with someone who wants to eat animal products and doesn’t ever want to live in a meat-free space.
You never know how things will work out. Sure, maybe they will get so moved by a showing Food Inc. that they will eschew meat and dairy forever, and you will live in domestic vegan heaven for the rest of your days. But being with someone while hoping they will change isn’t healthy or honest, and you need to face reality: continuing with the relationship means you expect the other to change while at the same time remain unwilling to compromise on your end. Move on and find someone who either fits your bill, or for whom you are so gooey-faced that you will reconsider your stance just a little bit. (A little bit I said! Stop stink-eyeing me.)
AYINDÉ I have a great story about compromise, but I’ll get into that in Chapter 6. For now, it’s time to eat.
Meals to share, fresh out of the sheets
Andouille Sausage and Biscuits
Lemon Meringue Chia Seed Pudding
Breakfast is one of my favorite meals to make. You can make a decadent breakfast on a lazy Sunday, or do it quick and easy after a long night of vigorous…er, debate. And when it comes to impressing the opposite sex, breakfast is a clear winner. Any old shlub knows that cooking dinner for a date is romantic, but you, you’re going to take it a step further by making a huge stack of Orange Cream Stuffed French Toast (here) for your bed buddy first thing in the morning. Not only does it ensure that they stick around at least long enough to eat it, but it’s the easiest way to seal the deal with a “damn, and he can cook?” Or maybe it’s “damn, at least he can cook” depending on the ole bedroom skills, or lack thereof. No judgment.
There’s an old saying in Catholicism: “Only two people know you’re having sex. God and the neighbors.” If you didn’t get a “Can you keep your love-making to a minimum?” knock-back from the guy next door, you can try to make up for it with a killer breakfast presentation…
Prep time: 5 minutes | Cook time: 20 minutes | Serves 2 to 4 | SF, GF
I came up with this hash whilst in Hawaii with Zoë. We were having a working breakfast during the production of a feature film Zoë wrote that I was acting in. It was a “make what we have in the kitchen” kind of day, and luckily, what we had in the kitchen was really working. The composition of this recipe is excellent. Red potatoes are best as they will not turn to mush when you cook them. Kabocha squash (Asian pumpkin) is my top choice for the squash, but if you can’t find it, acorn squash will do. The squash will cook faster than the potato, so be sure to follow the instructions!
3 tablespoons grapeseed or safflower oil
2 cups diced red potatoes
1 cup diced kabocha squash
½ cup diced onion
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 small bell pepper, stemmed, seeded, and diced
2 teaspoons dried basil
2 teaspoons dried rosemary
½ teaspoon salt
Black pepper
1. Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat, until hot and shimmering. Add the potatoes. Cover and cook for about 10 minutes.
2. Add the squash, the rest of the veggies, and the herbs. Cook, uncovered, for about 10 minutes. Mix well. Make sure the onions are soft and well cooked.
3. Reduce the heat to low, cover, and cook for about 10 minutes longer, mixing with a spatula from the bottom until the potatoes and squash are fork tender. Add the salt and pepper to taste. Eat the hash on its own or as a side to another favorite breakfast dish. I suggest the Spinach and Mushroom Quiche, coming at you on here.
Prep time: 3 minutes | Serves 2 | GF, SF
Who doesn’t love an excuse to booze at breakfast? This recipe happened out of nowhere. I had an overripe watermelon and some champagne lying around. I added some fresh mint and POW. Refreshing morning drunkenness. Please POW responsibly.
1 cup cubed seedless watermelon
1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
2 teaspoons chopped fresh mint
1 bottle chilled champagne
1. Combine the watermelon, lime juice, and mint in a blender and blend until smooth.
2. Using a sieve, strain out and discard the pulp.
3. Fill a juice glass halfway with the watermelon blend and top with cold champagne.
Andouille Sausage and Biscuits
Prep time: 5 minutes | Cook time: 20 minutes | Serves 2 to 4
As I was saying, I am a sweet ‘n’ savory kinda guy, and this is one of my favorite quick morning eats. You can prep the sausage a day or two in advance, and the biscuits are pretty quick as well. They can also be made in advance and frozen, then defrosted when you need them.
BISCUITS
1 cup all-purpose flour
½ tablespoon baking powder
½ teaspoon sea salt
4 tablespoons vegan butter, very cold
½ cup unsweetened almond milk
SAUSAGE
¾ cup Lightlife Gimme Lean vegan sausage (see Note)
1 tablespoon Cajun seasoning
2 teaspoons paprika
1 teaspoon minced garlic
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
¼ teaspoon sea salt
¼ teaspoon gumbo filé powder
¼ teaspoon chili powder
¼ teaspoon red pepper flakes
¼ teaspoon ground cumin
Grapeseed or safflower oil
½ cup julienned green bell pepper
½ cup julienned red onion
½ cup vegan cheese shreds
OPTIONAL TOPPINGS
Vegan butter
Raspberry jam (or you favorite flavor)
1. Biscuits: Preheat the oven to 425°F. In a medium bowl, mix together the flour, baking powder, and salt. Using a fork, mix in the cold butter until the butter becomes the size of small peas. Slowly add milk, gradually stirring until the dough pulls away from the side of the bowl.
2. Place the dough onto a floured surface, and knead 15 to 20 times. Pat or roll dough out to a 1-inch thickness. Cut the biscuits with a large cookie cutter or the top of a juice glass dipped in flour. Repeat until all the dough is used. Brush off the excess flour, and place the biscuits onto a lightly floured baking sheet. Bake for 13 to 15 minutes, or until the edges begin to brown.
3. Sausage: In a large bowl, break up the sausage. Add the Cajun seasoning, paprika, minced garlic, black pepper salt, filé powder, chili powder, red pepper flakes, and cumin. Mix well. Take ¼ cup of the sausage mixture and form into a ½ inch thick patty. Repeat until all patties are formed. It should make approximately 4 patties.
4. In a large skillet over medium high heat, heat ¼ cup of the oil until hot and shimmering. Fry the patties for 3 to 5 minutes on each side until golden brown. Transfer the patties to paper towels to cool. Reserve the oil in the skillet.
5. Reheat the skillet with the oil from the sausage over medium heat. Add the bell pepper and onion and sauté until caramelized, 5 to 7 minutes. Use a spatula to push the onions and peppers into four piles large enough to cover the sausage patties and sprinkle the top of each veggie pile with 2 tablespoons of cheese, allowing it to melt. Using a spatula, place the vegetables and melted cheese on top of each sausage patty. Serve with hot biscuits on the side, or make some sammies and watch that expression of “awww” pass over your partner’s face as they realize you can cook! Feels good, doesn’t it?
NOTE: I use the Lightlife Gimme Lean brand vegan sausage because it sticks together well, allowing you to add flavor and still turn it into patties. It took some super scientific research to figure out that this is the best brand to use for this recipe. And by “super scientific research,” I mean throwing sixteen pounds of the “wrong” kind in the trash and having to get the “right” kind two hours before our Lusty Vegan Comedy Show event in Brooklyn in 2012. So yeah, it’s worth it to hunt down that particular brand.
WTF is gumbo filé powder? Gumbo filé powder is made from dried sassafras and is necessary for any authentic Creole or Cajun recipe. If you can’t find it in your regular grocery store, check out a specialty spice store, or order it online. If you really can’t rustle it up (it’s not that hard to find, trust), then a quick substitute for that earthy flavor is ground dried sage in an equal amount.
Prep time: 5 minutes | Cook time: 10 minutes | Serves 2 to 4 | SFO
“Why do most vegan recipes have to be so complicated? I can’t get a simple stack of pancakes when I want them? I mean, is it so hard to make a breakfast staple without buckwheat and banana? Where is the baking powder? I mean I want to enjoy my breakfast too! I have needs!” At this point in my rant, I would be standing and—according to Ginger—shouting. I don’t think I was shouting, just firmly stating my opinion that it’s hard to find a simple, traditional, fluffy vegan pancake recipe out there that doesn’t taste…you know…“healthy.” So I made my own. This is the best vegan pancake recipe you will ever make. You deserve it. To make this soy free, use soy-free Earth Balance.
1 ½ cups all-purpose flour
2 tablespoons cornstarch
¼ teaspoon sea salt
1 ½ tablespoons baking powder
1 tablespoon sugar
1 cup almond milk
Egg replacement mixture (see below)
3 tablespoons vegan butter, melted
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
Maple syrup, for topping
Pro-Tip: The key to great pancakes is heating the skillet or griddle to a true medium-high. Watch for air bubbles on the surface of the batter, and this lets you know that they are halfway done.
1. In a medium bowl, mix all the dry ingredients together. In a small bowl, make the egg replacer and combine it with all the wet ingredients except the butter. Using a whisk, combine the wet and dry ingredients and mix gently until combined. You want some lumps. Gently fold in your melted butter and mix. Make sure the batter is still lumpy and thick.
2. Heat a griddle or skillet over medium-high heat and coat lightly with oil. A spray-on oil works best to avoid over-oiling. Use a dry measuring cup to pour ¼ cup of batter in a circle. Cook until the surface of the pancake has small bubbles all around, 3 to 5 minutes, then flip. Ideally you should only have to flip once.
3. On your serving plate, stack the pancakes high to seem impressive, or, as Darth Vader would say, “most impressive.” Top with butter and maple syrup and voilà! Pancake ninja.
HOW TO MAKE A VEGAN EGG REPLACER
3 tablespoons water
1 tablespoon Ener-G Egg Replacer
Pour the water into a small pot and bring it to a slow simmer. Slowly add the egg replacer and whisk vigorously for 1 to 2 minutes, then remove from the heat and set aside for about 1 minute. The consistency should be think and gelatinous. One batch equals one egg. If the recipe calls for 2 eggs, then double it, and so on. It’s ok to add a bit more water if it gets too gummy.
(The Closest I’ll Ever Come To)
“Chicken” and Waffles
Prep time: 10 minutes | Cook time: 30 minutes | Serves 2 | GF
If you haven’t been to a pop-up food event, they’re pretty cool. Basically, a chef (that would be me) comes to a space to cook for a short period of time, be it a day, a weekend, or a week. One of these events was a waffle brunch series in Brooklyn held every Sunday for a few months, called Petit Déjeuner. A vegan waffle brunch series—I mean, can you get any more Brooklyn than that? This was my favorite of my many hustles. Brooklynites loved it. I made some cash, coupled it with catering gigs and well, that was my life. As I write this, I honestly don’t remember how I made it work, and Ginger definitely didn’t see how it could work. She had never dated an entrepreneur. The point is, I knew I could make it work eventually, and I did. And I came up with bangin’ gluten-free waffles in the meantime. You’re welcome.
TEMPEH
2 tablespoons safflower oil
4 ounces tempeh, cut in ¼-inch cubes
½ cup diced onion
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon dried sage
½ teaspoon red pepper flakes
½ teaspoon dried basil
½ teaspoon dried thyme
¼ cup low-sodium wheat-free tamari
¼ cup water
WAFFLES
½ cup all-purpose gluten-free flour
½ cup chickpea flour
¼ cup almond meal (see sidebar)
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 ¼ teaspoons xanthan gum
1 tablespoon cane sugar
½ teaspoon sea salt
¼ cup vegan butter, melted
1 ¼ cups almond milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1. Tempeh: Heat the oil in a medium skillet over medium-high heat, until hot and shimmering. Add the tempeh and fry until golden brown on all sides, 5 to 7 minutes. Add the onions, garlic, sage, red pepper, basil, and thyme. Sauté until the onions are translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the tamari and water. Cover with a lid, reduce the heat to medium-low, and allow the tempeh to braise for 7 to 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. The liquid will reduce and the tempeh should have flavor throughout. Remove the tempeh from heat and set aside.
2. Waffles: In a medium bowl, combine the dry ingredients and mix well. Add the milk, vanilla and melted butter and mix well with a whisk. Your batter should be on the thick side.
3. Coat a hot waffle iron lightly with spray-on oil. Using a dry measuring cup, pour ½ to ¾ cup of batter evenly onto the iron. Close the waffle iron and cook until steam stops coming out of the sides, 3 to 5 minutes. Transfer the waffles to a plate, pile on the tempeh, top with some syrup, and enjoy.
WTF is almond meal? Almond meal is easily made from blanched ground almonds. If you don’t have time for that, you can also buy it by the bag or in bulk in most health food stores. Want to DIY? Use the interwebs to hunt down the technique.
Prep time: 5 minutes plus 2 days | Serves 2 | GF
I discovered chia seeds in 2011. I was looking for a new dessert to add to one of my menus for my “Wildflower Weekend” pop-up. I ended up making a cardamom spiced pudding. However, I wanted to take it step further and make a cross between a yogurt and pudding. What would you call that? A yodding? A pugurt? I think it’s all in how you say it. Just elongate the u sound and use a French accent. Puugurrrtt. See? Fancy.
1 cup almond milk
1 cup raw cashews, soaked in water overnight and drained
1 teaspoon lemon zest
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
2 tablespoons agave nectar
Pinch of salt
3 tablespoons chia seeds
1 ripe melon (for plating, optional)
1. Combine all of the ingredients except the chia seeds (and melon) in a blender. Blend the mixture on the high setting until smooth. Taste and adjust lemon or sweetener to your liking.
2.Whisk the chia seeds into the mixture (make sure they don’t clump up).
3. Pour the mixture into a glass jar. Cover with a lid and refrigerate overnight, or at least 2 to 10 hours to allow the chia to form the pudding.
Pro-Tip: Remember we eat with our eyes first, so here is a plating trick to help your cause. To plate your pudding, take a ripe melon and cut it in half. Spoon out the seeds and scoop the pudding into the middle. Serve cold with a spoon. Forgot to get a melon or just don’t feel like being fancy? Then f*ck the melon and eat the pudding straight from the jar. We won’t judge.
Note: Soaking your nuts (ha!) allows your body to digest them easier, which ups their nutritional value, but more importantly for this recipe, it alters the texture. A soaked cashew is undeniably creamier than an unsoaked one. So, soak away, preferably for 8 to 12 hours.
“Feed them great food. They can’t say shit when their mouth is full.” –
Orange Cream Stuffed French Toast
Prep time: 35 minutes| Cook time: 5 minutes | Serves 2
I developed this next recipe while I was in NYC in my first few months as an executive chef. I immediately launched a brunch menu. Soul Music Sunday Brunch quickly became the most popular day we had at the restaurant. It was a “thing,” which is why the music thing was a BIG deal. While I came up with more than a few goodies, this was a staff favorite and is one of those dishes that make you curse (as in damn that’s good!) before you realize it. When you pair it with a couple of things we’ve already made—like the Andouille sausage and the hash recipe that’s coming up next—well, the mouth orgasms multiply. If that’s not how you like to spend your Saturday (or Tuesday) mornings, well then we probably can’t be friends. This recipe does take a bit of technique to make, so I suggest starting off right with a sharp knife and great bread. Note: The bread makes the meal, so go ahead and splurge on the good stuff.
½ (1 pound) loaf unsliced French bread
FILLING
1 cup (8 ounces) vegan cream cheese
1 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon orange zest
1 tablespoon orange juice
½ teaspoon vanilla extract
¼ teaspoon orange extract (optional)
½ teaspoon salt
BATTER
1 cup almond milk
1 cup raw cashews, soaked in water overnight and drained
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
½ teaspoon salt
FINISHING
Grapeseed or safflower oil, for frying
Vegan butter
Pure maple syrup
Fresh blueberries
1. Using a sharp knife, cut the bread into thick slices. Next, cut a slit in the side of the bread slices so they’re partially open, like a pocket. Be careful not to cut all the way through. Set aside.
2. Filling: In a small bowl, combine the cream cheese, sugar, orange zest, orange juice, vanilla, orange extract (if using), and salt. Whisk until smooth. The mixture should be thick and slightly sweet. Transfer the filling mixture to a piping bag or use a spoon to fill the bread pockets with the filling mixture. Set aside.
3. Batter: In a blender, combine all of the batter ingredients and blend until completely smooth. Pour the batter into a large shallow baking dish. Add the stuffed bread and soak on both sides for about 20 minutes (or up to 30 minutes for a richer flavor). You want the bread completely soaked.
4. Coat a large skillet or griddle with oil and heat over medium-high heat. Carefully place the French toast in the hot skillet. Cook until golden brown on both sides, about 3 minutes per side. Serve topped with vegan butter, maple syrup, and blueberries.
WTF is a piping bag, and do I need one? Piping bags are easily found in the baking section of some stores. If any of you Pinteresters want to DIY, just take a zip lock bag and cut the bottom corner off, making an opening the size of a chopstick bottom. Boom.
Prep time: 5 minutes | Cook time: 20 minutes | Serves 2 | GF
This recipe was inspired by my experience with risotto. I never really got to enjoy risotto because of the heavy cheese factor in most risotto dishes. However, grits have had a place in my home since I was little. The thick and creamy consistency of the really good grits can be analogous with risotto, so in this mash-up dish, I replaced the mouth feel of the starchy rice with corn grits and kept the creaminess of the grits to come up with this. It’s a great savory morning breakfast food, which was good, because Ginger liked savory food in the morning. I, on the other hand, prefer sweet stuff in the morning, so I was catering to Ginger with this one.
VEGETABLES
1 tablespoon grapeseed or safflower oil
½ cup chopped red onion
1 tablespoon chopped garlic
1 tablespoon chopped fresh basil
1 tablespoon vegan butter
½ cup sliced shiitake mushrooms
GRITS
2 cups water
½ cup white corn grits
½ cup unsweetened soy milk
2 tablespoons vegan parmesan
Sea salt
1 tablespoon black truffle oil
1. Vegetables: Heat the oil in a medium skillet over medium-high heat. Add the onion and sauté for approximately 3 minutes, until lightly browned. Add the garlic and sauté for an additional minute. Add the basil and sauté until slightly wilted. Remove from the heat.
2. Heat the butter in a separate skillet over medium high-heat until melted. Add the mushrooms and sauté for 4 to 6 minutes. The mushrooms will absorb the butter, so add a little more if you think it needs it. Cook until golden brown, then remove from heat.
3. Grits: Bring the water to a boil in a medium saucepan over high heat. Whisk in the grits and reduce the heat to medium-low, whisking continuously. Once the grits start to thicken, reduce the heat to low, stir in the milk, mix well, and cover.
4. Add the sautéed vegetables and parmesan to the grits, whisking until well incorporated. Salt to taste, remove from the heat, and serve immediately. Garnish the grits with the reserved mushrooms and black truffle oil.
“I am vegan living with an omni. He respects me, and I respect him, even though I don’t agree with his omni ways. I cook for myself, and he cooks for himself. Simple. I do wish he would become vegan, and maybe one day he will.” –
No-Tofu Spinach and Mushroom Quiche
Prep time: 60 minutes | Cook time: 40 minutes | Serves 4 | SFO
Yes, a quiche. I made this during one of my challenge phases. Every now and then I challenge myself to veganize something that traditionally is not vegan. So basically anything with egg I tried and failed, and tried again. Finally I remembered a chef I worked for used chicpea flour for an eggy consistency. And now you get to reap the benefit. Do you know how many kitchen ninja points you will score from have a homemade quiche laying around? A gazillion. However, like many awe-inducing recipes, it’s a project, and it has to set for a while after you make it, so prepare yourself. Like all vegan custard-based recipes, this takes practice. Luckily, quiche is an “eat anytime” food, so pop one in the fridge for all-week eating. To make this soy-free, use a soy-free vegan butter and vegan Worcestershire sauce. You can cut the prep time in half if you use a storebought crust.
1 unbaked 9-inch vegan pie crust, storebought or make your own (as follows):
HOMEMADE PASTRY DOUGH
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 ½ tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon salt
¾ cup cold vegan butter
6 to 9 tablespoons ice water
QUICHE FILLING
1 tablespoon vegan butter
1 tablespoon safflower or grapeseed oil
1 cup chopped red onion
1 cup chopped red bell pepper
1 ½ cups thinly sliced mushrooms
1 teaspoon minced garlic
1 teaspoon dried thyme
1 teaspoon dried rosemary
1 tablespoon minced fresh sage
¼ teaspoon salt
1 (5-ounce) bag fresh spinach, chopped
Egg replacement mixture for 1 egg (here)
1 cup chickpea flour
2 ½ cups water
1 teaspoon ground turmeric
2 teaspoons vegan Worcestershire sauce
½ teaspoon onion powder
½ teaspoon garlic powder
1 tablespoon nutritional yeast
1 teaspoon salt
¾ teaspoon black salt (I use Kala Namak)
¼ teaspoon red pepper flakes (optional)
¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 tablespoon melted vegan butter, for brushing
1. If making homemade pastry dough: In a medium bowl, combine the flour, sugar, and salt. Using a large fork or a pastry blender, cut the butter into the flour. Working quickly, lightly rub the flour and butter through your fingertips until the mixture is like crumbly sand.
2. Start mixing the dough gently with a wooden spoon as you add cold ice water, 1 tablespoon at a time. Add water until the mixture becomes a firm yet crumbly ball. Wrap this ball in plastic wrap and refrigerate for 60 minutes. Remove the ball 15 minutes before you are ready to roll it into your pie/quiche pan. Roll the ball to about ⅛ inch thick and line the pan with dough. Trim off any overhang. Set aside or refrigerate until needed.
3. You just made your own pie crust. I hope you feel really good about yourself. You should probably take a picture of it and share it with all of your social networks, and don’t forget to hashtag #TLV. Now before your ego gets so solid you could bake that and eat it, let’s move on to the challenge of the quiche custard.
4. Quiche filling: Melt the butter in a medium skillet over medium-high heat. Add the onions and mushrooms and sauté for 3 minutes. Add garlic, thyme, rosemary, sage, and salt and sauté for 2 minutes longer. Reduce the heat to medium. Add the spinach and salt and sauté until the spinach wilts. Remove from the heat. Preheat the oven to 350°F.
5. In a medium saucepan, bring 1 ½ cups of water to a boil. Add all egg mixture ingredients except the chickpea flour and salt.
6. In a separate bowl, combine chickpea flour and remaining cup of water. Whisk well to combine. Once the water is boiling, slowly add the chickpea-water mixture. As you mix, it will become very thick. Reduce the heat to medium and continue to cook for 2 to 3 minutes, stirring constantly, until thick and glossy. Remove from the heat and add the reserved vegetable mixture. Mix well and add the remaining salt to taste. Spread the filling evenly into the prepared pie crust. Smooth the top with a spatula and bake for 20 minutes.
7. Remove the quiche from the oven and brush the top with melted butter and bake for an additional 5 minutes. Allow to cool to room temperature before serving. This is the hardest part of being a chef: the wait. I know, it’s really hard, but it will be so much better if you let it cool first!
Pro-Tip: Kala Namak is a specific kind of salt originating in India. It will lend the dish an eggy, sulfur-like flavor.
Latham Thomas, Founder of Mama Glow
“I don’t need to share a similar diet and lifestyle to find common beliefs. I’m always looking for what brings people together in my work and certainly in my relationships. Our connection is far beyond the fork; it’s celestial.
My top tip for vegans looking for love is to follow your heart. Explore the hidden dimensions of your soul. Seek to open yourself completely. Tell the truth, and be vulnerable. Don’t believe what you see—believe what you feel. Seek to make each other better. Bring your best self to the relationship. You want to be with an amazing person—become that amazing person, and your divine reflection will appear before you.”
*Smallprint: Names in this book have been changed to avoid immense assholery. Daniel once confessed his anxiety over what I might write about him on the Internet. He said nothing, however, about what I might write in print! See, it pays to be specific…
