A welcome addition to the cookbook shelf

Every time I scan the cookbook section of my local (kick-ass) bookshop these days, I’m delighted to discover yet another collection of vegan or vegetarian recipes. It seems there’s a new book added to the pile on a weekly basis, which is great for my kitchen (and terrible for my wallet). And though I’d never complain about having too many vegan-related books to choose from, it’s kinda tough to decide where to plunk your hard-earned Queen Liz (that’s $20 for you non-Canadians); I definitely have a few impulse buys whose pages have yet to be glued together with spilled flour and sauces. So, I was delighted when presented with Beth A. Barnett’s Rabbit Food Cookbook, a compact, spiral bound gem featuring vegan tips, food history and a solid portion of yummy recipes. The format is sensible and easy to digest, with hand-written text and whimsical sketches throughout, which (almost) makes up for the lack of colour pictures.

Between the pages

The first half of the book is full of advice and food for thought. The author offers tips on nutrition without being preachy, and suggests several respectable resources for further nutrition information. Her tidy section on the Industrialisation of Food in America (pp. 32-56) is necessarily oversimplified, but a good overview for readers who have little exposure to food history – and again, there are great resources listed for further self-education. Beth offers helpful ingredient tips, and crafts for making your own grocery & produce bags. She also touches upon the practical work of growing your own food, something more of us should be doing! One of the best things about this book is how helpful yet un-assuming it is. Beth doesn’t present her work as being the sole authority on vegan lifestyles, but merely one in a plethora of awesome books to have on hand.

The latter half of the book features 111 pages of recipes divided into breakfast, soups, mains, sweets and drinks. Many of the recipes are standards found in most vegan cookbooks – but they work! I’ve made the Fancy Brownies (p. 202) so often that the page is more cocoa-coloured than white anymore. Beth’s recipes vary from quick meals that amateurs can whip together with ease, to slightly more complex dishes that require a bit of planning. With regard to the compact page size, some recipes are written too concisely, leaving the reader to fill in a few gaps that might be obvious to a seasoned cook but will result in mistakes from people new to the kitchen. For instance, the Tofu Pot Pie (p. 139) is written over three pages and broken down into four main steps, but is missing important directions – like whether pots, pans, or bowls are best for any given step. Aside from such issues, the resulting food is generally amazing (my roommates devoured the pot pie in a flash!). There’s a nice variety of meals, too – sushi, tempeh, pastas, hearty salads, and a few seitan dishes to boot. And the peanut butter cookies are to die for…

The little things

For all the cookbooks I’ve perused and purchased lately, this one takes the cake for most helpful and easily accessible. I’m particularly fond of the coil spine (why is this not a regulation for all cookbooks?!) and the cute illustrations, though its useful information puts this book at the top of my gifting list for others. If a few recipes were written with more clarity, I’d dare say this is a perfect little book – especially for newer vegan cooks.

The following is an excerpt from a focus piece written by Noemi Martinez, which will be available in issue six later this week.

Being a vegan is as much an identity to me as being a poet, being a Boriqua/Chicana and living on the borderlands, both literally and queerly speaking. It seems only natural that my eating habits find themselves in my poetry and writing. As a single parent, unschooling around the kitchen table is common as well as something I call edupunk, a mix of DIY and punk ethics education. Many of our conversations revolve around food, justice, the environment, oppressions and what it means to be brown bodies living in our society. I am largely truthful about the real world to my two children. The other day I spoke to my son, River, about the high percentage of Latino and Black men in United States prisons and how one in six Latino and Black boys have a chance of going to prison in their lifetime — that is a painful reality check as a parent to a young Chicano. Both my daughter, Winter, and River, grasp that the work I do on domestic violence, DIY (do it yourself) media and racial inequalities is just as important as my veganism.

Dinner for Two

I have not tried one recipe
from the cookbook you gave me.
I finger through it some days.
The foods- elaborate experiments
you thought I’d make
when I became a vegetarian.

It’s just like you
to give me something
of little use,
like flowers that die
when I needed seeds
to take root,
plants in soft dirt,
clay to form words.

Time-the residual effect
can’t be measured by scientific methods
and can’t be seen but
we are as one
even now
when I sense your
brooding thoughts
100 miles away
when I haven’t seen you
in ten years.

Rose Colored Thread

I grew in love with you
around the table
stalking flowers we
couldn’t afford to plant.
We laughed and you let me sleep
instead of touching my hand.
We could have mended
each other’s
bloody noses with
slow nights.

Next spring, there will be time
to tend to this garden
to wake me up,
tell my stories
that make the edges of your
mouth crinkle into a smile.

It’s finally spring – one of my favourite times of year. The scent of a warm breeze on your face. The sight of little green shoots coming up in the garden beds. The promise of fresh foods in the coming months. It’s almost enough to forget what the deep, dark winter months were like. Almost enough – but not quite. Shaking the last few lentils out of the bag, farm share boxes getting lighter and lighter, and grocery bills soaring as more imported veggies make their way into the basket. During Canadian winter, when all sensible farms have gone into hibernation, good vegetables can be hard to come by. However, if you’re not afraid to get a little dirt under your nails, there are a couple of ways that you can have fresh greens on relatively short notice any time. Good to supplement salads, add to green juice, or bulk up your sandwiches, microgreens aren’t difficult to grow, have a low start-up cost, and are super nutritious.

Whether you’re looking at growing a few garlic chives to spice up your soup, or a tray of crunchy pea sprouts, the start-up kit is the same. You’re looking at a few trays, a bag of soil, some plant spectrum fluorescent lights, seeds, and you might also want a misting bottle. Trays can come from anywhere. I got mine from a local farmer, but they can often be found in gardening stores or anywhere that sells bulk farming supplies. However, they can also be repurposed from soy milk containers, margarine tubs, soda bottles, berry containers from supermarkets – the list goes on. Be creative! It’s easy to make these on a budget. The most important thing is that there is drainage in the bottom – so get out those multitools and put your awl to work, or find something else that’s pointy, and make sure to punch lots of holes in the bottom.

- Submitted by Melissa Legge

That’s right, the next issue of T.O.F.U. will be providing you some great tips on growing your own herbs, vegetables and fruit in your humble abode. We’re hoping to get your green thumb working, not only through the digital pages, but in some real dirt.