It’s also about my new and wonderful all-electric car, Tesla’s Model S. And my first “I knew-it-was-coming” moments of being an early adopter. You know what I’m talking about.

The day before starting out promising. We opted to take the Tesla to Merced, a cow-poke town in central California where the newest University of California, in its 8th year of operation, resides. We could have driven our old Ford F-150, but that would have burned up 25 gallons of gasoline for the roundtrip. My Tesla gets about 220 miles to a full charge, which meant that we would make it down there with no problem. And I had worked it out with the hotel: they had a place where we could charge overnight. Other than than, Merced is still stuck in the ’90′s, with only one official charging station, at the local Nissan dealership where they are trying to get their own electric vehicle, the Leaf, off the ground.

It was close to 10 pm by the time we finished our Friday and got down to Merced. As it turned out, the 220-volt outlet I was going to plug into at the hotel was on the other side of an exterior wall and the 20-foot cable wouldn’t reach. The hotel manager was kind enough to hook me up with their sister hotel, a block away, where I drove to plug in. The only problem was that when I got there in the morning to get the car, the cord had been partially unplugged. Not intentional, but someone had inadvertently knocked it loose so it never charged. This left me with just 40 miles range left on the car.

As we sat through the commencement ceremony under the hot Merced sun watching my son graduate, I had at the back of my mind the aching worry of how we were going to get back to the Bay Area by 5 pm when the dolled-up girls and  debonair young men would show up at my house for the pre-prom party. This is one of those rare instances I was thankful that I had an ex (my son’s father) and was on amicable terms with him, because I was able to send my daughters (from my marriage to my current husband) back to the Bay Area with him and his girlfriend. So at least my daughter would be home in time for her prom and pre-prom party. Next, as soon as the ceremony was over, I called the local Nissan dealership and explained my predicament.  I wasn’t sure how they would be about charging their competitor’s vehicle, but they came through – they were more than willing to help out, proving that those at the forefront of such important technology are willing to support and help each other.

My daughters headed home with my ex, and my husband and I spent the afternoon with my son as the Tesla charged at Nissan. We took in a matinee,  Iron Man 3 in 3D. Then we had a triple iced soy mocha with an extra shot of espresso at Starbucks and read the Wall Street Journal. We tried to get a few words of conversation out of my son,  who is off to Japan in a few weeks to play professional basketball. (He graduated with a degree in engineering, but I think he really majored in basketball.) And then after killing about 4 hours, we wandered back to the dealership.

The car showed it had drunk up 142 miles of juice. According to google maps, our house was about 143 miles. My husband, a “good enough” type of guy, decided that was, well, good enough.  I nervously got into the car. “How about if we take the long route through Gilroy? Tesla has a supercharging station there, and we can recharge in 15 minutes,” I suggested. He shrugged, and headed north, not in the direction of Gilroy.

“I know it’s hot, but we shouldn’t use the A/C,” he reminded me. I opened my window. “That’s going to create drag, so you should close your window,” he said. He turned up his Slacker radio (which he loves) and tuned me out. The last thing he wanted was my nervous energy.

It was around Livermore when he finally admitted that we weren’t going to make it back home. He asked me to start looking for charging stations. The car comes with a computer, so I started checking  and found a couple in Oakland’s Jack London Square. We figured we could grab a bite during a hour of charging, enough to get us home. But that turned out not to be as fortuitous. One of the stations was already occupied by another EV. The other one had mysteriously disappeared, although comments by users as recent as April 13 (yes, of 2013) seemed to indicate that it was in existence and functioning. By that point, the car had 6 miles left. The little battery icon was in the red. It was 8:30, and many of the charging stations were closed.

IKEA in Emeryville was open until 9, and had multiple stations, according to recargo.com. It was 5 miles away.

We didn’t speak to each other as we cautiously got back onto the freeway. He didn’t even speed. As we drove into the Ikea parking garage, we had 1 mile left to spare.

We wandered over to Pasta Pomodoro and had an uneventful dinner. We spent the hour looking at our phones, not at each other. Then we perused some titles at Barnes and Noble. When we got back to the car, it had enough juice to get us home. It was 11 pm when we finally pulled into our driveway.

It’s clear to you by now that I missed the party I was supposed to throw. I’ve thrown a lot of parties over the years, so I guess I can say that’s one for the record. My older daughter stepped in and helped pull the event together, and another high school rite-of-passage went without a hitch as the revelers boarded the party bus to San Francisco. And even though I was exhausted, I stayed up until my daughter came home so I could just admire her in glittery dress (which, I’m proud to say, she bought for a song at a consignment store). She was thrilled to see me, and threw me a big hug.We had hired a friend to take photographs, so this morning I got to enjoy the evening’s glamour through the lens.

What’s the moral of this story? Not to get an electric car? No, actually just the opposite. Get one. Don’t wait. Be an early adopter. It’s the only way the infrastructure to support them will develop. And it will develop. Because we just can’t continue along the petroleum route, just as we can’t continue to deplete our oceans of sea life, or the planet of arable land for livestock production, or starve certain populations so others can eat. Whatever little steps we are capable of taking, be it going vegan one day a week, or shopping consignment stores, or recycling, or using public transportation, or getting an electric car, we need to do it. We can’t wait until it becomes convenient, or it’ll take too long. And by then, it’ll be too late.

And by gosh, what a big rush we all are in. Back in the day, you’d have to let the horses rest and eat every now and then before you could continue your journey. You probably wouldn’t schedule a graduation and a prom in different towns in one day, but that’s life in 2013. But maybe it shouldn’t be. Maybe it’s just a bit too crazy. Maybe an unplanned matinee, lingering over bad coffee at Starbucks, and checking Facebook a few too many times over a bland dinner will become a bit more common in my life to come over the next few years, but that’s okay with me. Maybe I just need to give my horses a break. And slow down a bit myself. Perhaps my Tesla will help me do that and I can start planning these rest stops, and actually enjoy them.

Just thinking about those necessary pit-stops just gives me a charge.

My daughter off to the prom!

My son after commencement with my daughters.

The post Getting a Charge appeared first on Artisan Vegan Life.

Chloe beaming her last smile

As I sat outside today sipping my red wine, watching the honeybees flit around the lavender in the late afternoon sun, all I could think was what a perfect day it was to die.

Close by, she lay on her doggie bed, looking as if she was peacefully sleeping. The pool of blood that had collected under her bottom defied her otherwise dignified looks. She couldn’t help it that she was bleeding internally. She had held it back as long as she could. When it first started, she had licked it up so as not to cause worry. Then yesterday, it was too much. It just came pouring out. I guess that was the “sign” I had been waiting for.

Of course, I had seen it coming for a long time. She had struggled much of her life with hip dysplasia and disc disease, at times hobbling, other times responding to treatments and bouncing around like a puppy. But we knew it would one day progress to a point of only getting worse, not better. And that had come a few months ago after we had exhausted all remedies –surgery, acupuncture, chiropractic, and medicine of every sort, “natural” and western. We were left with only pain killers to keep her going day by day.

Many of you have gone through this. Yesterday, I posted on Facebook my struggles with making the “decision.”  Many FB friends, and friends of friends, came to my aid, offering me words of wisdom, solace, and guidance. This virtual community actually helped give me the strength  allow sweet Chloe to leave her body and go to a better place. I called the vet this morning, and he came out in the afternoon. We carried her outside by the pool where my husband played a last round of ball with her – he would throw it, and she would catch it. For a brief moment, she beamed again with joy before sinking back into pain. The sun shined down upon her, and even as she lay there, she looked as regal as ever. The passing was swift; it seemed like just seconds.

We buried her in the back yard. How quiet the house is.

I know this post isn’t about food. I just want to spend it honoring her. Chloe was a great communicator. She didn’t have vocal chords, but she understood hundreds of words. We counted once, and lost count after passing several hundred. She knew the words for different species of animals, and people’s names, and places, and activities. You could tell her to go to someone’s house, and she would go there, or tell her to go up the hill, and she would do that instead of down the hill. You could ask her if she wanted to do something, and she would let you know by either perking up, or slunking down. After she became disabled and couldn’t move much on her own, she would bark to get your attention, then nudge her head in the direction of the object she wanted you to get. My daughter even did a science fair project about whether dogs could learn adjectives, and then taught and tested Chloe on words like “big,” “small,” “short,” “long, “other.” And she picked those words up quickly, too. I could go on and on singing her praises, but I think the most amazing memory is of her as a conciliator. We used to take her to work with us at my husband’s office, and sometimes, my husband and I would get into an argument in the car, usually about something silly like money. Chloe, sitting in the back seat, would gently come forward between us, nudging her muzzle into each of us, smiling, as if to say, “Hey, guys, take it easy! We’re here to love each other, right?”  Now that I think about it, my husband and I don’t argue very much anymore.

She was a very smart dog, but my guess is that most dogs are smarter than most people give them credit for. What I mean by “smart” isn’t about doing tricks or being obedient. What I mean is the ability to understand and communicate with another being. She learned English. Better than we learned Bark.

We spoke to her a lot, as we did with our kids growing up. Every time we saw a new animal, we’d repeat the word until she recognized it. If you said “deer” around her, she would bark excitedly; if you mentioned seeing a coyote (even out of context), she would growl. And if you mentioned a dog or person she liked, she would whimper with joy.  I, too, learned to differentiate many of her sounds, and sometimes people would even ask me how I knew what she was saying. But she understood me far more than I understood her. Because sometimes she would look me in the eye and bark ever so intentionally, obviously telling me something, but I just plumb didn’t understand. She would spend much of her time listening to our conversations – sometimes chiming in, albeit to our confused chagrin – but rarely did we take the time to just listen and understand her language.

But this goes beyond just dogs. It extends to the species that we eat.  I know this may be construed as really corny, but I really believe that we are all on this earth to get to know and honor each other. And I’m not talking about just mankind. I’m talking about all creatures. There’s a group of cows on a mountain top near Los Angeles that are truly free-range – they just wander around the several hundred acre parcel and live off the land. Once, while camping there, they visited our campsite. They just wanted to hang out with us. They poked around our site, scratched themselves on the motorcycle, kept coming up to us – they wanted to communicate. They started to get into our stuff a bit more than we wanted, so eventually, my husband told Chloe to chase them off, and she did. The next year, it was a group of free-roaming horses on that same mountain top that visited our campsite, nudging their faces over our shoulders while we tried to eat, knocking over objects, with absolutely no intention to leave. The colt and Chloe sniffed each other’s noses ever so sweetly. We struggled to get them to go home – wherever that was. The next day, they came back again, as if looking for a group of friends.

So how can we eat them? Not only is it our responsibility to be their stewards and care for them, I truly believe we need to learn to listen to them, to learn their language, as they learn ours. Oh, gee, I know I’m gushy because my loving dog just passed away. But I really believe this.

To Chloe. In doggie heaven.

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This is perhaps the oldest appetizer in my repetoire. I don’t know why I didn’t include it in the first edition of my first cookbook, The Now and Zen Epicure, 23 years ago. It didn’t make it into the revised 2001 edition, either. Perhaps I thought it was too simple. But I have been making it for years, and it has been a fallback quickie recipe that I can put together in a moments notice when I need something to nibble on for friends who come knocking unexpectedly. It doesn’t require any special ingredients, utilizing only things I usually have – tofu, almond meal, tomato paste, olive oil, garlic, some bread. And it produces hot, savory, satisfying bites that never fail to get the question, “Mmm. What is it?”

The story of its creation is based on a period of my life in my early twenties when I went from being a lacto-ovo vegetarian to a sometimes pesco-vegetarian (I know, not really vegetarian.). I was living in Japan with no veggie support, and lots of pressure from my aunt and uncle with whom I was living initially. During that brief period, when I occasionally ate seafood, I sampled a little canape made from a type of Japanese fish roe flavored with tomatoes, garlic, and olive oil. I thought it splendid. When I finally came to my senses and returned to vegetarianism (and not long thereafter, veganism), I created a mock version of this wonderful little canape. I didn’t know what to call it, and for 30 years, it had no name.

A couple of years ago when we were shooting the appetizer episode of Miyoko’s Kitchen, we needed a name. During the filming, I suddenly blurted out that they were called “Tuscan Hills.”  Why? Probably because they are little mounds, like hills, and mediterranean in flavor. Anyway, the name stuck, and for the first time in 30 years, I provide below the recipe.

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But here is a promise I am going to make for the next couple of weeks. Every couple of days, I am going to post a recipe featured in one of my videos. Why aren’t they already here? Guess again. I won’t even bother to guarantee a photo will accompany each recipe, but I will post the actual recipes.

Starting today. And for this one, I actually have a photo – a very tiny, tiny one. If you want to see a bigger version, you’ll just have to check out the episode of Miyoko’s Kitchen that it’s from – Vegetarian Appetizers . (Or you can watch it right here on my website as well,just scroll down to find the video.)  It’s a delicious spring roll, but not the typical kind filled with raw veggies, dipped in peanut sauce. This one tickles your palate with its light and refreshing combination of sweet, tangy, citrusy, and salty.  The creamy mango and avocado offset the cool, crispness of raw daikon radish, enhanced by the unusual but delicious combination of umeboshi (Japanese pickled plum) and lime. For parties, I always like to serve a combination of lighter and richer appetizers, and this is one of my “go to” light appetizers.

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1. Rejuvelac. I know, I know. Everyone seems to struggle with this (well, not everyone). But here’s the first thing to remember: it takes anywhere from 4 to 7 days, depending on the grain you use. I’ve found quinoa, rye, and wheat berries to be the easiest to sprout. Don’t mix your grains, and make sure that the package doesn’t say “pre-sprouted.” It’ll take 12 – 36 hours for your grains to sprout, depending on how warm it is. 70 – 80 degrees is ideal (Farenheit). In the winter, try to find a warm spot in your house out of direct sunlight. White foam can collect at the top, but don’t worry. If you’ve sprouted your grains, it will smell fermented, like beer, perhaps, but not smelly feet. You can drink this stuff – after all, that’s what Ann Wigmore invented it for. It’s a great probiotic drink, and you can add a little ginger and sweetener (agave, perhaps) to make gingerale, a suggestion a student of mine made.

2. Substitutes for Rejuvelac – okay, so you don’t want to bother. If not, get some saurkraut at the store and use the liquid. Basically, most fermented liquids will work, although I have experiemented side by side with various starters, and have found rejuvelac cultures faster than saurkraut (or other fermented vegetable) juice. You can also use a plain kombucha, although this takes the longest to culture. Kombucha has sugar in it, so it adds a bit of sweetnenss to the cheese. Some people ask about using powdered probiotics – that’s your choice. I don’t recommend it. Many of them aren’t vegan, they’re expensive, and sometimes, they don’t work. Also, they are usually a mono-culture, so they don’t capture the wild lactic acid bacteria that are in grains and the environment, which contribute so much to flavor.

3. Carrageenan vs. Agar. What’s the difference? Carrageenan melts, agar does not. That’s why it’s used for the meltable cheeses. What if you can’t get carrageenan or don’t want to use it? What to do? Well, if you’re making the meltable cheeses and only care whether or not they actually melt (and not whether they are sliceable), just omit it. You’ll end up with a glob or a thick sauce, not a sliceable cheese, but it will ooze, brown, get stretchy, and melt in your sandwich, on a casserole, or a pizza, just the same.  So, for the meltable cheeses, as Buddy says, “just forget about it!” It’ll all be fine in the final product.

4. Still on the topic of carrageenan vs. agar, but for the aged cheeses. The reason I use carrageenan instead of agar in the “hard” cheeses is because agar requires dissolving in water or some other liquid first. This introduces liquid into the cheeses, which not only dilutes the flavor, but leads to a higher water content, making the cheeses more vulnerable to mold. The idea is to minimize the liquid content while air-drying. Carrageenan can be added directly to the cheese and heated, at which point it will bind. If you can’t get it or don’t want to use it, you can still use agar. Here’s what you have to do: put 2/3 cup water into a narrow saucepan, and add two tablespoons of agar POWDER (don’t use flakes!!!).  This is a very small amount of liquid for this amount of agar, so you’ll have to put a lid on the pot. Over medium heat, bring it to a boil. If you lift the lid, you’ll first see the agar turn solid, but after several minutes, it will eventually liquify, although it will be like a thick gel. Now very quickly whisk your cheese into the agar, making sure that it is incorporated quickly and thoroughly. Make sure that the cheese is at room temperature (and not cold) so that the agar doesn’t set into little threads the moment the cheese hits it. You’ll have to keep heating the cheese for a few more minutes – the idea behind heating the cheese is to stop the culturing process so that it doesn’t continue to get tangy over time.  Pour the cheese into a lined mold (line with cheesecloth), then let cool completely in the fridge overnight. After you unmold it, don’t expect it to be completely firm! I should have stressed this in the book. Dairy cheddar isn’t firm on day one, or even week one, either! It hardens over time. So wrap it up in some cheesecloth and store in your fridge, where it will firm up and become sliceable over a couple of weeks or longer. You can air-dry it following the directions in the book as well if your house is cool, but in summer or warmer climates, it’s best to dry it out in your fridge.

5. The most important ingredient for vegan cheesemaking? Patience. Whether you’re going for depth of flavor or a firm texture, you won’t get them in a couple of hours or days. The hardest, firmest cheeses (and I mean as firm as a dairy gouda or cheddar) that require a sharp knife to cut take me weeks to make. They are not instant.

6. The cream cheese, or other cheeses that use yogurt as a starter, like a warmer environment than ones made with rejuvelac. If your house is really cold, you may have trouble getting a really thick, tangy cream cheese. Yogurt bacteria like the warmth, so this is one you could actually make in your dehydrator or an oven set to a low temperature (100 or 110).

7. The book says to “cover the cheese” while culturing. What to use? You can use a lid, as long as it’s not airtight (that’s what I use), plastic wrap just loosely thrown on top, a towel, a plate, just about anything. Note that a towel or other fabric might create a little “rind” on top. No worries.

8. What ‘s the cheese supposed to look like after it has cultured properly? It will be much thicker (and will get even thicker as it chills in the fridge),  will rise slightly, and air pockets will be visible. That’s lactic acid doing its job! Here’s a picture of all the air pockets visible after the cheese has cultured and risen.

Notice the air pockets!

I’ll have to go through my emails and FB messages and see what else I’ve been asked, but these issues come to mind as being asked most often. Hope these few tips help in the cheesemaking process!

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Yesterday, smiling sweetly, he put in his order. To me, not the local diner. Well, I happen to be teaching a vegan cheese class at my house on February 3rd (yes, not everyone is glued to the Super Bowl!), so he’ll be getting to nibble on plenty of cheesy dishes. But Gruyere Fondue is just not up his alley when he’s watching tight end Vernon Davis make a touchdown (and do people know that he is vegetarian or close to it?).  My husband would prefer something a bit more American, such as burgers with fat oven fries, really good nachos with black beans and cheddar, maybe some chewy ribs.

Here’s where I concur. Burgers and nachos are great, but even I can sink my teeth into some saucy, chewy, sweet and spicy ribs. In fact, this is a dish that I look forward to on those picnic holidays – the 4th of July, Labor Day, and any hot day in summer. And it’s so easy that even with my class, I’ll be able to put this together in no time flat.

What are they made of? Not seitan. These are made of something called bean curd sticks. They are essentially yuba sticks (you know, the skin that forms on soy milk when it’s heated too long!). Yuba that has been folded and crunched into a long stick forms the base of the chewiest ribs on the planet. Dripping in the best barbeque sauce ever, and of course, the requisite amount of grease. Yes, this is just one of those dishes that taste better with more fat (I use olive oil). You can, of course, make this oil-free, but you won’t have as much fun wiping your chin.  And get ready to get addicted.

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I am forever experimenting, trying to emulate and improve upon my own recipes. After developing my first vegan buffalo mozzarella several years ago, I was thrilled and happily served it to countless people, who seemed as thrilled as me. Then came the person – an omnivore – who was brutally honest. “The flavor is good, very close to the real thing, but the texture is nothing like buffalo mozzarella.” My heart sank. Other omnivores had found it delicious, I said to myself, yet I knew deep down that this one discerning individual was right. The texture needed improvement.

The article I penned for the fall 2012 issue of VegNews afforded me the opportunity to revamp the recipe. As often happens, I am unable to sleep at night as I ponder how to create something, and one night, I was saved by an idea. The next day, I got to work, and the 3 am inspiration proved to be the ticket. Since then, for my cooking classes and demos, I’ve simplified that recipe even further, still deriving good results.

Word got out that since the publication of Artisan Vegan Cheese that I’ve come out with a new and improved recipe. Every week, I get people asking me if I will share it. Well, here it is. The texture is, according to the discerning omnivore, much improved. In fact, pretty darn real.

Easy Buffalo Mozzarella (adapted from Miyoko’s recipe in VegNews)

1 cup plain, unsweetened soy yogurt

1 cup raw cashews, soaked in water for 3 – 8 hours and drained

1 cup water, divided

1 1/2 teaspoons sea salt

3 tablespoons tapioca flour

1 tablespoon agar powder

Combine the yogurt, cashews, a half cup of the water, and salt in a blender and process until emulsified. Transfer to a container, cover loosely, and set aside for 12 to 24 hours until slightly tangy. Whisk in the tapioca flour.

Combine the agar and remaining half cup of water in a small saucepan. Whisk together. Cover with a lid and bring to a boil. Simmer for 3 to 4 minutes. Pour in the yogurt mixture and mix well with a whisk. Continue cooking over medium heat, stirring with a wooden spoon, until the mixture is smooth, glossy, and stretchy.

Prepare a large bowl of ice water. Using an ice cream scooper, drop balls of the cheese into the ice bath. Let sit for 20 to 30 minutes until firm.

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Buche de Noel

I can’t wait until next Christmas. With New Year’s around the bend, the holidays are about over, and the most glorious dessert I had all season is all gone. Lucky I took a few photos of it before it disappeared. I have been baking yule logs for years, but this year, I tried a new approach that yielded spectacular results. It’s a challenge to create a vegan spongecake that rolls up beautifully, as it is usually eggs that provide the architectural structure that allows for the rolling while maintaining a lightness and airiness. I’ve been baking vegan meringues all year, and decided to apply that principle to a sponge roll. Likewise, I wanted a filling and frosting that would be light yet rich, and easy to make, as there are enough components already to making a yule log. I managed to whip this up in an hour on Christmas morning, unsure of how it would all come together and taste. When we dug in after dinner, there was silence. The beautiful silence of pure savoring. The cake had all of the qualities that I enjoy – tenderness, richness, lightness, creaminess, fluffiness, and an uncloying sweetness, due to the minimal use of sweeteners. We all had seconds, and it was gone.

Now that I think about it, why wait until next Christmas? I plan to bake this as a multi-layer sheet cake for my husband’s birthday in March!

The rolled up sponge cake with whipped coconut cream filling before frosting.

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