Fear and loving in Las Veganland: An open letter to my future adopted child

Dear son- or daughter-to-be,

You don't know it, but your dad and I have been waiting for you for quite some time.

First, you were the child were going to conceive — till infertility crashed the party like an obnoxious, uninvited guest.

Later on you were the child we would adopt from a foreign country, but then that didn't seem right for us for a number of reasons — such as the exorbitant financial costs and our misgivings about removing you from the country and culture of your birth. (It had happened to me as a child, and it hadn't been good.)

Finally, you were the child we'd adopt from right here in the U.S. — not an infant from a pregnant unwed mother, but one of the tens of thousands of older children stuck in foster care limbo.

So we did what needed to be done: we took the mandatory classes, we had our backgrounds checked and our fingerprints printed, we had our home and our finances and our medical records inspected and approved, we underwent hours of interviews, wrote pages narrating our entire lives and our families' histories, we attended adoption parties, made inquiries, met countless social workers . . . until we finally found you.

Everyone tells us this is going to be difficult. And we believe them. Like all kids who wind up in the "system," you've been dealt a crummy hand. You've been physically abused. You've been neglected. You've seen things no child should see. Every relative you have — your mom, your dad, your grandparents — has let you down. Has washed their hands of you, has turned you over to the state. No one fought to get you back. No one calls you, or sends a card on your birthday. No one has shown you how special you are.

Our social worker is concerned. She reminds us of the challenges we're certain to face. You're going to be defiant, you're going to act up and act out and test us in ways we can't imagine. You're not going to trust us. You won't believe that we really, truly want you. That we'll stick by you no matter what. That we'll never, ever, send you away.

And out of all the things I worry about -— from your ADHD and your depression, to your attachment and cognitive issues, to your aggressive behaviors and your history of self-injury — the thing I feel least equipped to handle is the thing nobody mentions: Food.

Because, you see, your dad and I are vegans. And we're struggling with how — or even whether — to incorporate our diet into your life.

If you were a baby, this wouldn't be such a big deal. But you're not. You're a teenager, and like any teenager you have clearcut ideas about what you like and what you don't like, whether it's fashion or music or subjects in school or even, ugh, food.

And here's the thing. Your dad and I understand that no one made us become vegans. We've chosen to eat this way, after many years of vegetarianism, and many more years before that of eating meat. So we recognize the hypocrisy of trying to force a vegan diet on you. But at the same time . . . can I imagine roasting you a chicken? Or picking you up a Happy Meal on my way home from work? Or sending out for pizza and wings? No, I can't.

So what are we to do? When I imagine the best case scenario, it goes like this: We explain to you, calmly, gently, and clearly, why we're vegan. We take the time to educate you, not by pressuring you, but by sharing what we know. You'll come with us to volunteer at the local farm animal sanctuary, where you can meet and touch and learn about the animals — like Annie, the rescued dairy cow who spent her entire life as a pregnant milk machine, who never nursed any of her calves, who was about to be sent off to slaughter when her production dropped. We'll have fun in the kitchen making delicious foods together — like my killer vegan raspberry chocolate ice cream, or the savory dumplings I'm known for bringing to every potluck, or a mile-high lasagna gooey with Daiya cheese and cashew ricotta. We'll take you with us to the vegan festivals we attend each year, where you'll see that there are hundreds of people of every age, of every color, who take animal welfare seriously, just like your dad and I do.

But will it be enough? Will food, of all things, become our family's sticking point? And if you reject veganism, will it feel like you're rejecting me, or vice versa? Are we going to be the right family for you? Are we the right family for anybody out there?

I wish I knew someone — parent or child — who'd already been through this. Even though we've met a lot of adoptive families, not one has been vegan, or even vegetarian. If you're out there and can share your experiences, please leave a comment. There are two adults and one child who could really benefit from it.

Hippocrates Would Be Proud!

Wednesday's Vegan Lunch

Homemade Vietnamese-style spring rolls, a summertime staple.

Today for lunch I made fresh Spring Rolls, my own version of traditional Vietnamese gỏi cuốn.

I used what I had on hand:

• ginger-garlic roasted tofu strips (leftover from last night)
• crisp juicy bean sprouts
• local red leaf lettuce
• homemade pickled radishes (also local)

...just lay the ingredients on softened rice paper and roll up tightly. Usually these are served with a dipping sauce, but the vegetables were so fresh and moist that I decided a sauce would be unnecessary. And it was.

These were crispy, savory, and tangy-sweet all at once.

Mmmmmmmm!!!!!

"The suffering is palpable": John Robbins visits a veal barn with Julia Child

In this short video, John Robbins tells the story of taking die-hard veal enthusiast Julia Child to visit a veal barn in rural Pennsylvania. Upon seeing the conditions there, Julia Child gave up veal—a fact few people know.



As John Robbins explains, 99% of our animal-based food today is produced in such horrible conditions that, if people could see it first-hand, as Julia Child finally did, they would reject it:

"Here was a person who clearly was not vegetarian-oriented in any way, and yet even she [changed], when she saw it, when she was face to face with it."

Declawing: Cruel and unusual punishment for cats

An eye-opening new public service announcement from The Paw Project dramatizes what "declawing" (de-knuckling is a more accurate term) really means:



Declawing is illegal or considered inhumane in many countries throughout the world, including over 12 European nations, Australia, and Brazil.

For more information about the effects of declawing and humane alternatives, go to www.pawproject.org.

Historic Moment for Animals: Lab animal abusers indicted for felony cruelty

For the first time in U.S. history, workers from an animal research laboratory are facing felony cruelty charges for animal abuse. A grand jury in North Carolina handed down 14 counts of cruelty to animals against four former lab workers, one of whom was a supervisor, at Professional Laboratory Research Services (PLRS).

Scene from video taken at PLRS lab.

The cruelty was first brought to light last fall, when People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) provided authorities with undercover video showing animal mistreatment at the lab. After federal officials began investigating the inhumane operation, nearly 200 dogs and more than 50 cats were removed from PLRS and the lab was closed in late 2010.



PLRS conducted testing for major manufacturers of pet products, such as flea and tick treatments. Video provided by PETA (see portions above) shows lab employees engaged in numerous cruel acts:

"The accused are among those caught on video kicking, throwing, and dragging dogs; hoisting rabbits by their ears and puppies by their throats; violently slamming cats into cages; and screaming obscenities at terrified animals. One of those named is the worker seen on video trying to rip out a cat's claws by violently pulling the animal from the fence onto which he or she clung in fear."

It is estimated that over 150 million vertebrate animals, including dogs, cats, mice, rabbits, guinea pigs, farm animals, and non-human primates, are used annually worldwide for testing purposes. In the U.S over 90% of animals used in experimentation are excluded from the Animal Welfare Act (AWA), the only federal law which oversees animal testing. Rats, mice, birds, reptiles, amphibians, and fish are expressly exempt from all safeguards. Species not covered under the AWA do not even have to be reported.

Restaurant Review: The Garden Grille Is a Vegan Eden!

Location: 727 East Avenue, Pawtucket, Rhode Island 02860 (at the start of Blackstone Blvd.)

Before I went vegetarian, I loved going out for ethnic food. Gosht Shahi Korma (lamb in saffron-cashew sauce) at the Indian place with the fancy table linens? I'm there. Bun Thit Nuong (rice vermicelli with grilled pork) at that pan-Asian hole-in-the-wall? Count me in.

After I became vegetarian, I not only loved ethnic food, but my appreciation increased immensely—given that mainstream "American" restaurants were now, for the most part, dietarily useless to me. I kept going to the same ethnic places, only instead of lamb and pork I was ordering things like Paneer Korma (made with cheese) or Veggie Pad Thai (with its requisite egg).

Once I turned vegan, however, everything changed. It's not that I stopped loving ethnic food. On the contrary, added to the love and appreciation I'd long felt was something entirely new: dependency. With cheese pizza and eggplant parmesan removed from the equation, ethnic restaurants suddenly became my only reliable option when I wanted a meal away from home.

And then I discovered (or really, re-discovered) the Garden Grille Vegetarian Cafe. With its eclectic (yet accessible) menu, the Garden Grille has become the answer to my family's restaurant rut. Basically, our dining-out choices had whittled down to just four options: Indian, Chinese, Japanese, or Middle Eastern. Don't get me wrong—I'm thrilled to live in an area where we have relatively easy access to Baingan Bharta, Szechuan Tofu, Avocado Maki, and Falafel. But after many, many months of noshing exclusively on the ethnic circuit, we felt frustrated that there wasn't a place with "regular" vegan food. This was especially important if we wanted to dine out with people, like our parents, whose palates fall decidedly in the conservative camp.

Which is why my husband and I, after several lip-smacking visits, felt secure in taking his parents out to lunch at the Garden Grille one recent weekend. With its 100% vegetarian (and highly vegan-centric) menu, we knew it was a place that would satisfy us (and give us a break from the ethnic-food merry-go-round), while at the same time would please (and not freak out) our guests. So here's the lowdown on the Garden Grille, where hardcore vegans and mainstream eaters alike can find culinary contentment:

Decor:
Contemporary and warm, with a slightly upscale feel that is in stark contrast to the low-budget, slightly dinged-up aesthetic so common in veg-friendly nosheries. There are seven roomy booths (two of which look out over the large front window) and six smaller tables, as well as an attractive L-shaped bar that seats 10. The bright, polished wood tabletops make a nice backdrop for the clean lines of the white ceramic dinnerware and clear glassware (nothing plastic here). In all, it's an appealing blend of casual-posh; you'd be at home showing up in shorts after a day at the beach, but you'd also feel fine trying to impress a first date.

Clientele:
The mix of customers is one of my favorite things about the Garden Grille. I knew my in-laws wouldn't be comfortable in a place where they were the only senior citizens, and even I am old enough to feel awkwardly uncool when everyone around me is a 20-something hipster with multiple facial piercings and resplendent dreads. Luckily, the Garden Grille is so popular among such a diverse cross-section of diners, that you feel at ease no matter your demographic. Every time I've dined there, I've been happy to see an amazing assortment of humanity—old and young, gay and straight, daters and loners, families with small children, families with adult children, you name it, everyone belongs.

Food:
When Garden Grille first opened in 1996, I lived only 3 streets away. Back then, it was a much more humble affair; what I remember is it being mostly a juice bar whose menu consisted mainly of a few wraps. Imagine my surprise when, returning to my old stomping grounds 15 years later, I find that this once-modest smoothie shop has transformed, Cinderella-like, into a full-scale eatery.

Cashew and Nori Crusted Tofu

Appetizers (called "small plates") range from $6 to $10. Highlights include Reggie’s Raw Heaven ($10), a gorgeous arugula salad artfully arrayed with slices of mango, grapefruit, and avocado, and topped with beet-infused jicama matchsticks and cashew gamasio. A far cry from the insipid "garden salad" we vegans are too often stuck with, it's a dish I order almost every time I go. Another must-try appetizer is the Chipotle Seitan ($7) served with a sinus-clearing wasabi mustard; this tangy, toothsome delight got raves from both my vegan husband and his carnivore father.

Entreés ("large plates") run from $9 to $12 at lunch and from $9 to $17 at dinner. The Grilled Vegetable Wrap ($8) was a safe choice for my never-to-be-mistaken-for-a-foodie mother-in-law. Stuffed with portabella, asparagus, roasted red pepper, caramelized onions, and arugula, with a touch of tarragon aioli, it's pretty much a classic vegan starter dish—familiar enough not to be off-putting to the average eater, but nothing special to a longtime vegan. (With so many more interesting items on the menu, I doubt I'll ever order it.)

There's a bit more creativity in the Vietnamese Tofu Sandwich ($9), which features tofu covered in a sweet chili glaze, alongside pickled carrots, jalapeno, red onions, lettuce, and a cilantro-mint aioli. Both my husband and my father-in-law had this dish (on separate occasions) and pronounced it very good.

Two of my favorite sandwiches at the Garden Grille are vegan twists on classic favorites: the Tofu BLT ($7) and the Tempeh Reuben ($8). The BLT features crisp, salty tofu "bacon" (love!), and for an extra $2 you can add avocado (which I always do). The Reuben is a delectable combination of grilled tempeh, Swiss cheese, sauerkraut, caramelized onions, and thousand island dressing on rye bread. If you're a vegan who misses the Reuben experience (but not the corned beef), this is one highly gratifying concoction.

The Garden Grille's fancier entreés are found at dinnertime, and they do not disappoint, either in appearance or taste. I recently tried the Korean Barbeque Tempeh ($16), which featured two substantial pieces of millet-crusted tempeh on a bed of grilled bok choy and shiitake sesame rice, garnished with toasted edamame and nori, with a lovely drizzle of scallion oil. On the same night, my husband ordered an entreé from the Specials menu: Cashew and Nori Crusted Tofu ($15) served on a bed of pan-fried udon noodles. Both dishes were elegant to look at and delectable to eat.

Other dinner entreés that we have yet to try, but are looking forward to, include Eggplant Rollatini ($15), Cauliflower Steak ($16), and Mushroom Risotto Cakes ($17).

Wildflour bakery

The Garden Grille does have a dessert menu, but I've never ordered from it. Why? Well, it turns out that the owners have opened a new all-vegan bakery, Wildflour, just two doors down from the restaurant. So hubby and I make it a habit to visit there after finishing our meals at Garden Grille. If you're a vegan who has never been to a vegan bakery (as we hadn't until we discovered Wildflour), it's an almost out-of-body experience. There, right in front of your eyes, are all the pastries, cookies, brownies, tarts, and cakes of the finest French boulangerie you can imagine—and yet every single morsel is vegan!

Bottom Line:
The Garden Grille Vegetarian Cafe offers delicious, creative food that satisfies the most hardcore vegan without putting off their meat-eating friends. It takes well over an hour for me to get there, but it's always worth it. Highly recommended...and do not visit without checking out their new sister business, the gorgeous Wildflour vegan bakery!