Warm Weekend

The last thing I want to do is brag about the warm weather here in Florida while some veganauts are covered in several feet of snow.  If I was scraping ice and shoveling snow all day the last thing I’d want to read about is some guy’s unseasonably warm January weekend… and yet, here we are.  When reading this please consider any references to balmy breezes and turquoise waters as mere story elements supporting the tale of my weekend, rather than me bragging- even if I talk about palm trees swaying in said balmy breezes.

It started when all good weekends do: around lunch time on Friday.  After getting to the office, getting a cup of coffee and vigorously checking Facebook and Twitter for a few hours my tummy said that it was time for lunch.  I have learned not to let my tummy make all of the decisions but I could tell on Friday that there would be no arguing with it.

For months I’d been hearing about a vegan restaurant in the area called the Loving Hut and this was the glorious day I finally ate there.   My copilot on the lunchventure was a secretive person who will only be referred to here as Agent L.  I like the Men in Black nomenclature enough to adopt it whenever possible.

Agent L and I arrived outside of a small, brick building, parked and made it in the front door just in time to get the first table of the day.  The very nice hostess and waitress had us seated, watered, and menued in record time.  The entire menu is vegan which is a refreshing change from the limited options found on a regular menu.  I could order anything I wanted and the pictures made me even more ravenous than I had been when discussing lunch options with my tummy.

While waiting for sushi and my bowl of BBQ & Spring Roll Noodles, Agent L and I watched the several large screen televisions on the walls and discussed the unique features of the restaurant.  It turns out Loving Hut may be the largest chain of vegan restaurants in the world… and they also seem to be run by a cult.  Plus, I  think I may be a member now.

Supreme Master Ching Hai (or just “Supreme Master” to her friends) seems to run her own version of an Asian fusion Unitarian Universalist Church that also has lunch specials.  The televisions on the wall show a broadcast of Supreme Master reading, singing, and quoting from the texts of religions around the world.  The message seemed to be peace and love which is a message that I am usually pretty skeptical of.  However, when the food arrived, everything fell into place for me and I felt like I was at peace with the world and one with the Supreme Master.  It was THAT good.

As we left the church-uraunt that afternoon I was filled with calm,  kindness, and a ton of delicious vegan food. We drove away from the Supreme Master but I knew that my heart and stomach would be returning soon.

Later that afternoon I was still glowing from the meal as Shannon and I packed up our kids, dogs, and luggage and headed for Miami.  The Orlando to Miami drive only takes us about three hours but it usually seems like ten soul crushing hours thanks to the increased levels of fury and angst that South Florida drivers bring out in me.  I can’t adequately explain the insanity on the interstates south of Orlando but it intensifies the further south you go.  Picture the car chase scene in the Blues Brothers movie.  That would be an improvement over what we usually encounter.

Luckily, on this particular drive I was still floating on the Supreme Leader’s cushion of love and caring.   When the black BMW crossed five lanes of traffic with no blinker at 80mph while executing a flawless middle finger salute for no apparent reason, I didn’t freak out with blood thirsty horn honking and wild gesticulating.  When the taxi cab entering the highway decided that it would be easier to swerve into our lane causing a 12 car pile-up than it would be to continue driving forward in its own empty lane I didn’t scream myself  into a red faced fury.  Instead, I maintained my calm, forgiving nature thanks to the surplus of of kindness, understanding, and love that the Supreme Leader served for lunch.

During our weekend in Miami I thought a lot about the tropical breezes, warm sunshine, and blue-green ocean water that all the northern veganauts were missing out on.  I also thought about a picture I’d seen floating around the Internet.  The image shows a weatherman in one of the ridiculously cold places on Earth.  This clever meteorologist couldn’t bring himself to post the temperatures on the weather map because they were well below zero for the umpteenth day in a row.  Instead he recalculated the temperatures using the Kelvin scale rather than the Celsius or Fahrenheit.  Thanks to his understanding of perception the weahterman’s lucky viewers were treated to a map with temperatures in the mid 200’s.  I just assume that if you are living in a snow covered wasteland, cooking temperatures would seem appealing.

This is a great example of re-framing how we think about something.  Often we are faced with unchangeable circumstances that we have to deal with.  Sometimes it is just a matter of being tough and dealing with it.  Other times it helps to rethink how we think about something.

Going vegan can seem like an overwhelming and scary step to take.  Those of us on the other side know that it is way easier than it seems but that does not help the timid explorers discovering veganism for the first time.

Going veganaut, however is like posting the winter temperatures in Kelvin so it seems warmer.  The temperature isn’t really different but it still seems easier to deal with.  When I gave up meat, dairy, and eggs I made a promise to myself that I would eat a steak every two months and fried chicken on my birthday.  It was a deal that I made to help ease the transition.  By the time I was supposed to be eating my first scheduled steak I’d lost the desire to follow through with it.  Had I entered into this experiment with no hope of reprieve I may have given up after a week.  Luckily, I’d re-framed what it meant to be vegan so it was easier for me to live with during the transition period.

Until next time, may your summer rolls be cool, your spring rolls warm, and may the blessings of Supreme Master be sprinkled over you like Braggs liquid amino is sprinkled on rice.

Case of the ‘saturdays’

Saturday is a day built with possibilities.  Beach bumming in Italy?  Canoe trip to the Bermuda Triangle?  Hike the Himalayas?  During the work week we convince ourselves that any of it is possible.  Sometimes these life experiences are the focus of our free time.  We take full advantage of not having to be somewhere.  Other times we are not as free to interact with our planet.  We have life logistics and maintenance to tend to.  This creates two different kinds of Saturdays: SATURDAYS!! and ‘saturdays.’  My family is experience the latter version today.

I have work I need to finish for my paying job.  There are household bills and correspondence that need to be crossed off the To Do list.  The kids go back to school on Monday, which is a logistical puzzle by itself.  We are also engaged in heavy duty Spring cleaning which is either very late or very early depending on if you are glass half-full or half-empty kind of person- which reminds me, I also have a stack of Christmas cards I need to fill out and send.

All of this organization and preparation has even spread to the ‘ole blog and related projects.  I’ve decided to share a short list of blog housekeeping tidbits that fit nicely into the productive kind of day I am having.

1. Please excuse the sporadic posting during the last few weeks.  I have been focusing a lot of writing energy on the ‘ole book (plan to be ready for release in mid-Novemberish).  Moving forward, I have a solution but I wanted to drop an apology bomb on you regulars.

2. I’ve decided on a posting schedule that will fit into the newly ramped up writing efforts and allow me to share some of the personal triumphs I am experiencing.  The Monday morning post will be the personal update post: weight loss, blood pressure, 5K times, recipe success, and so on.  The Wednesday morning post will be an excerpt from the upcoming book~ which will allow me to share snippets, get feedback, and repurpose some of my word count.  Friday will be the teaser and link to my One Green Planet article from the week.  I think this will achieve the steady posting I have been striving for without me having to give up my day job…..and our home.

3. If you have not visited the first two One Green Planet articles, here are the links: Vegans in Space article and the Lunch With the Omnis article.  I wouldn’t say they are solid gold, but I feel like I am getting my groove on over at OGP.

4. I am researching the detergent post from a few weeks ago.  Arm & Hammer might be involved in animal testing and Borax can’t tell us where it was last Thursday between 6 and 8pm.  I will be posting an update AND correcting the original when I get to the bottom of the load.  I don’t want to spread incorrect information when there is so much correct information that could be spread instead.

5. No joke: new website and t-shirts are just around the corner.  It is almost go time Veganauts!

That is all of the blog news I needed to get off of my chest.  I hope you are all conquering mountains, rivers or garage cleanings.  Happy ‘saturday.’

Day 216: Beets Living Food Cafe

For about two years in the mid-90’s I wrote an almost weekly restaurant review for the Independent Florida Alligator, the student run newspaper for the University of Florida. I was on my third and fourth year as a junior at the time.  I was loving the college experience and was all in favor of continuing on my self-prescribed academic track for a doctorate in non-essential courses.   I figured I was close since there were no more sailing, guitar, or racquetball classes left to take.

The restaurant review column was a great gig despite the lack of a paycheck.  It involved going out to eat, purchasing multiple entrees, and then hammering out 700-1000 words that were vaguely related to the topic at hand.  By the end, with close to 100 restaurant reviews under my belt (old food critic joke) I’d built the Food Court into a well known column.

I wouldn’t say I was famous back then or anything… BUT, three days before Valentine’s Day, I got a call from the Melting Pot.  A few days prior to the call, I ran a piece about how I’d waited too long and missed my window of opportunity to reserve a booth for their romantic fondue, champagne, and ice sculpture event, forcing me to instead decide on the most heart-warming pizza joint to take Shannon to.  However, according to the call, the Melting Pot did have a booth for us.  It was no big deal, probably just a booth they keep in reserve for world leaders, foreign dignitaries, and elite journalists with their fingers on the pulse of fine dining.

Fast-forward through almost four presidential terms and I find myself back in the reviewing game again.  The computers are faster and I am slower, but writing a restaurant review is a comfortable coat.   You know, that kind of coat that feels comfortable in any weather.  Which, for lack of a better segue, was crisp and cool in Austin, TX when I visited last February and had lunch at Beets Living Food Cafe.  It was excellent coat weather.

I woke up somewhat blurry from the previous night’s exploration of the city.  I believe to really know a city, you have to drink its whiskey, so that is what my travel buddies and I did. The blurriness was a testament to how tight Austin and I had become.

Since most of my day was free and on my own, I sat down and Googled ‘vegan breakfast.’  I selected a restaurant based on the estimated taxi fare versus the quality of the pun in the name.  Beets Living was a very long taxi ride from my hotel, but c’mon, my hands were tied.  Also, they served lunch, which is what I saw I needed after looking at the time and seeing that I’d slept past breakfast.

The taxi driver gave me a very thorough tour of my new BFF, Austin, and dropped me off on a street that was just begging to be painted and hung in an art museum.  Old and quaint mixed with new and chic in way that would make hipsters, yuppies and hippies swoon in unison.  And that was just the street!

Once inside the door, I realized I was way out of my element.  I don’t like to talk about my weaknesses because it seems like complaining and I prefer to keep the pain hidden.  Please don’t feel sorry for me, because the pity almost hurts worse. You see… I, Jason, am neither hip, nor with it.  Oh, what a glorious relief to get that off my shoulders!

Beet’s (Living Food) Cafe is steeped in coolness.  I was shocked that a ‘Hip-Impaired’ Alarm didn’t sound when I walked in.  The colors, funky light fixtures, and general decor were all well outside of my cool zone.

I was a vegan bull in a raw vegan china shop.  It was dumb luck that I didn’t stumble over a table causing a chain reaction that brought the whole place crashing down, and then, while trying to climb out of the wreckage, making matters even more uncool by tripping over another table and starting another chain reaction that then caused the rubble to form into a poultry farm owned by a big corporation.  I’m a clumsy guy, it could happen.

The very nice woman behind the counter was extremely patient with me.  It seemed like she probably volunteered her time on the weekends helping uncool kids deal with their afflictions.  She was very good at handling my bumbling questions and Dan Quayle moments.

Luckily I was there before the lunch rush so I was able to take my time and make an informed choice.  After some patient hand-holding, a menu with pictures on it, and puppet show about almond milk, my order was placed and I had to chose a place to sit while lunch was prepared.  I found the best seat in the house against the front window counter.  From my vantage point I could watch the real, raw Austin walk by.  I probably learned more about my new friend from that window than I did from a whole night on touristy 6th Street.

When lunch came it was more cool than anything I’d seen up to that point.  I love eating at vegan restaurants because I get to order the kind of incredible food that I would never be able to make for myself.  For instance, lunch: the Raw Reuben, dried chips made from sweet potatoes and Japanese yams, raw beet salad, and raw coffee with fresh almond milk.  High temperatures and cooking hadn’t sullied any of the feast I was preparing to dig inhale.

Raw vegan is an extreme that I strive for.  I’ve found that weeks when I eat 92% raw are much better than weeks when I eat in the 23% raw range.  I have the personal data to show that raw is better for me.  However, before lunch at Beet’s, raw never tasted so good or diverse.

The Raw Reuben was on par with its cruel and deadly counterpart.  I loved real Reubens and judged many of them harshly back during my Food Court days.  The raw vegan version tasted better than 95% of the standard versions I’ve had but it was 100% better in every other way.  I can’t lie about that top 5%. I take my job as judge very seriously here, and a really good Reuben is hard to beat.  It is all of the extra baggage that keeps me from eating them now.

The chips and beet salad were both new tastes for me.  I devoured it all for the sake of science, and was glad I did.  I felt my palate mature as the meal disappeared.  I found the dried chips to be a very light counterpart for the earthy tastes that the beets bring to the party.  I alternated through the raw fare while sipping a coffee that wasn’t boiled… and I was beginning to feel cool.

By the time the meal and window show were over, I was really feeling the love for Beet’s Cafe, raw vegan food, and my new best friend, Austin.   I highly recommend stopping for a meal or two when visiting the city.  I can tell you from first hand experience, they accept all kinds of people.

Day 197: Juan in a Million

It has almost been 2 months since I touched down safe and sound in Orlando International.  I was returning from a business trip in Austin, TX, which I lovingly refer to as the Vegan Mecca. I kissed the ground after the harrowing flight- or at least that’s what I claimed I was doing after stumbling out of the airport.

The trip was an absolute blast.  I love seeing new places and experiencing new things… like riding around in a taxi, for instance.

I pride myself in having earned a wealth of experience as a human on Earth.  I attribute most of this to having worked many different jobs in many different industries.  I am not flighty, just excited about new things and vehemently opposed to repetition (unless you are reviewing an application or resume I submitted, in which case please know that I am a very stable individual who can be counted on to… oh who am I kidding, its to late to try and act stable now).

Because of my diverse work history, I have had a chance to drive almost everything on and off of the road: bikes, scooters, mo-peds, motorcycles, go-carts, three wheelers, four wheelers, small cars, huge cars, various vans, little trucks, 4×4 trucks, many various tractors, a dump truck, a forklift, a Bobcat, a back-hoe, a school bus, canoes, kayaks, small sailboats, a 45 foot sailboat, a deep sea fishing boat, ski boats and a riding lawn mower.

Yet despite this list I’ve never driven, much less taken a ride in, a taxi before.  I’d seen the yellow mysteries of course, and I had a rudimentary understanding of their form and function, but it wasn’t until Austin that I finally got a chance to cross taxi off my life experience list in a big way.

I took taxis all across that city.  I enjoyed meeting the drivers on each ride.  It felt like watching episodes of Taxi, except with a new and exciting character each time.  They were usually nice and if they couldn’t communicate verbally, they were always willing to look at photos on my phone to help find our destination.  I got in the habit of locating an image of where I wanted to go, before the taxi showed up so I wouldn’t have to try and use gestures to describe 6th Street.

**Pro-tip: the sign language for getting to 6th street is the drinky-drinky motion.  To get picked up from 6th street you hail a cab by holding a plastic bag in front of you which is the international sign for ‘despite how I look, I am not going to puke in your cab.’

During the trip, I traveled and ate with a couple of guys.  We ate about half of our meals together, and with Austin restaurants this never seemed to be much of a problem.  There always seemed to be a vegan option or workaround that was worth some momentary eye-rolling.  To be fair, I also find this to be true in restaurants everywhere else, but in the heart of Texas, I never ran into someone who required an explanation, diagrams or doctor’s note.  My thanks to the vegan population of Austin for training your restaurants so well- you’ve created a plant-based vacation destination.

If you ever hop a cheap flight to the Vegan Mecca, be sure to stop for a meal at Juan in a Million.  However, if you do not mix well with omni- and carni- types, you can probably skip down to the wrap-up paragraph below, because this place is full of meat and cheese and leather boots.

You can read all about Juan and his shockingly famous restaurant, including the Man vs. Food breakfast taco fiasco, with a quick search of the interwebs, but I’ll tell you what this plant-eater ate and still dreams about to this day.

I’ve always been a big fan (literally) of Mexican food, but I had never been so close to Mexico when enjoying it.  The meal started with the obligatory chips and salsa, but a travel companion sprang for a side of guacamole.  This single act changed the course of the meal for me.  The quac was insanely good and I wanted more.

As a beverage, we each ordered a Bloody Mary.  It was one part hair of the dog, one part pre-flight courage, and six parts vodka.  I think the waitress knew the secret to big tips is making the customer incapable of calculating small numbers.  I know it worked on me.

With only a sip or two of the cocktail down, lunch arrived.  I’d ordered a simple guacamole salad, minus all the dairy and an order of beans and flour wraps.  What I got was a bed of shredded lettuce and tomato, covered with a ocean of mind blowing guac, teaming with deadly corn chip sharks.  I made crunchy, soft, taco wraps filled with everything I ordered, plus salsa, and relished each bite I took.

I would like to give you directions, but since I was in a cab, I have no idea where the place is located.  However,  I can tell you, that all taxi drivers are familiar with the universal signal for Jaun in a Million.  You simply stand next to the cab, flap your arms like a bird and say QUAC! GUAC! while turning slowly in a circle.  The driver will understand immediately and drive there.  Often without you in the back seat.

Day 118: The Vegan Mecca

As my fourth month of plant based living comes to a successful close, I am amazed at how much my life has changed and how much it has stayed the same.  I am much thinner, my blood pressure is way down, my cholesterol has jumped ship, my clothes are either very loose or very new, and I feel great!  Yet, I still get concerned about flying.

I don’t get scared or terrified or even tearful when it is time to board the slender cylinder.  I get medicated.  I’ve found out that Xanax gives me the bravery of a flight attendant.   I can smile through turbulence and offer reassuring words to those around me when before I would have endangered the entire flight by shorting out electrical systems with my puddles of tears.  To be completely honest, if I found out that Xanax was made with kittens I’d probably still take it when flying and I would feel dreadful about it until the medicine kicked in.

I also learned from my father, who is a very experienced flyer, that when there is turbulence or a shaky take-off you can tap your feet on the floor in front of you so it seems like you have some control over the plane’s erratic movement.  I’m developing a product that takes this a step further.  Hopefully it will be available in the Sky Mall catalog soon.  The Chicken’s Yoke (patent pending-pending) is a device that nervous flyers can inflate before taking off.  When fully inflated, the device resembles an actual pilot’s yoke and gives the user the sense of being in complete control as they slip the surly bonds of Earth.  Once cruising at 32,000 feet, the frightened flier can deflate the device until it becomes necessary for landing.  With enough Xanax this wont even seem like bizarre behavior.

My days as a geographically stationary blogger are over, and not just because I can get my big butt off of the couch now.  I’ve been going on and on about my transformation from complete carnivore to complete herbivore, but from a central Florida stand point.  Now, thanks to my awesome job, I am on a working vacation in Austin, TX and I can take the vegan experience on the road.

Austin, TX can sound like a scary place to the newly veganated.  Texas conjures up images of cowboys sitting around a campfire at night, slowly roasting cows and rattle snakes while skinny vegans watch from just beyond the light of the fire.  From the poles they’d been tied to.  Obviously, a state so slathered in bar-b-que sauce is a place for even the bravest herbivore to fear.

However, it is said that Austin is nothing like the rest of Texas.  Granted, I’ve never been in any other part of Texas, but based on cowboy movies and broad generalities, this seems true.  Here in Austin I haven’t seen a single wagon train, saguaro cactus or baby calf branding station.  In addition, the only stampede I saw was when a lone taxi driver pulled up near a crowd of people at the airport.

The Engine 2 Diet book I talk about so often was born in a fire station here in Austin.  Rip Esselstyn wanted to be a fireman and save people from burning buildings but instead he spent the majority of his time rescuing people from their own destructive behaviors.  Heart attacks and diabetic emergencies had become the primary work done by the brave firemen.

Yesterday from my 14th floor hotel room I watched Engine 1 race down the nearby highway and pull right up to the gas station next door to me.  From my bird’s eye view I watched five firemen jump out of their truck and hustle over to a prone figure I hadn’t seen by the gas pumps.  It was a sobering example of what Rip had been talking about.  I changed my life four months ago because I didn’t want to be the man who wasn’t able to finish pumping his gas.

The Whole Foods Market Flagship store is here too, and it is like seven regular Whole Foods stuck together.  Then, for good measure, there are about seven food counters thrown in where a vegan can find every kind of delicious food there is.  One of the many employees that I engaged in conversation told me that this Whole Foods Market is the most popular tourist destination in Austin, and I completely believe her.  I think there should be a hotel next door for the foodie tourists like me.

Austin has been called the vegan Mecca because even in its unlikely location you can find a massive and friendly herbivore community.  There are more vegan restaurants in Austin than there are in the rest of Texas and the surrounding states.  I have been given so many suggestions from friends of the blog that I may have to eat five meals a day to get to them all.  Another solution is to return in a few months to visit all the vegan tourist stops I don’t get to on this trip.  That would require more Xanax and the Chicken’s Yoke, but it is a small price to pay to return to such an amazing place.