Emergency Post on Roasted Vegetables

Ever since my lil blog was featured on in Tulane's New Wave yesterday (!!!) I've been dreaming up all sorts of things to write about. I have lots of exciting features coming your way, BUT FIRST:

I just made roasted vegetables for the first time.

SO DELICIOUS.

And so simple. And maybe not as nutritious as straight-up raw veggies, but still better for you than french fries.

Here's what to do.
1. Pre-heat the oven to 400°
2. Put a little olive oil on a big pan with sides so that the vegetables don't stick
3. Cut up some veggies. I used half a red pepper and a head of broccoli, but you can use whatever you fancy
4. Toss the veggies with some olive oil in a big bowl
5. Sprinkle on some sea salt and fresh-ground pepper. You can use any kind of seasoning you want, however
6. Place the veggies evenly on the baking sheet. The more room between the veggies, the better
7. Pop in the oven for 20-25 minutes.
8. Eat ridiculous amounts of freshly-cooked vegetables, and try not to moan too much while doing so

Behold! Vegetable heaven

I'm eating my veggies right now with some brown rice. They're a little crispy and are perfectly satisfying for my current salty food craving. The red peppers are incredible. I don't think I've ever had freshly roasted red peppers before! They're sweet and flavorful and soft.

Hits the spot.

Debbie Downer Post.

I was given the opportunity to visit a stockyard today. It wasn't as terrible as I was expecting, mostly because it was more of a "ma n pop" kind of place where they didn't use electric cattle prods. What I saw, however, was still very jolting.

We watched the calf auction for low-grade veal. The babies were less than a week old, most with their umbilical cords still attached and their legs buckling beneath them. In the auction ring they were slapped around by a man who looked like he was out of a horror film - bulging eyes, twig-like limbs, the ability to willingly cause pain. People were at the auction like it was the movies. It was the local hangout, something to do on a boring Thursday afternoon.

Once the calves were sold they were shoved into larger pens to contain them all. They were significantly calmer, and bystanders were able to get as close to them as the fencing allowed. I bent down to pet the ones that were to weak and scared to stand. The calves were so warm and had the softest fur. They were downright cute. Their eyes bulged in terror. Some moved around anxiously, others accepted their fate and lay slumped together.

I also saw pigs, who I realized have the most human-like eyes. Most slept as close as physically possible, in what seemed like a giant spooning line. Two sheep seemed relatively calm, while one baby goat bleated incessently.

It wasn't easy to stomach, and yet it could be worse. I couldn't imagine visiting the animals' next destination.

A lot of sadness goes on in this world, y'all...


BUT. In some perkier news, I've discovered the beauty that is The Kumquat.

 

Kumquats are nature's Sour Patch Kids. These cherry tomato-sized fruits have sour, bitter rinds and sweet juice on the inside. At first you'll make a nasty face when eating them, then you'll delight in how sweet they end. If you can find some, BUY THEM!

And here's a recipe for some fantastic curry if you're into Indian food. I promise I'll be writing more about food soon, but right now I just want to share all that I'm learning and experiencing about the animal rights side of a vegan diet. 

Pork = Pig

I received a relatively normal text message today. My boyfriend was at a friend's house cooking dinner with his family. They were making pork for dinner.

Normally, I would have brushed this off and thought nothing of it. I've always tried to respect people's views on food and I don't want to shove anything down anyone's throat. But I've been interning at Farm Sanctuary for a week so far, and every day on my walk to the office I'm greeted by grazing animals on rolling hills. I hear roosters crowing in the morning and geese honking at dusk. I've affectionately rubbed a cow's forehead and my face has been nuzzled by a baby goat. I've been curiously investigated by sheep and generally ignored by prim chickens.

And I've rubbed a pig's belly. Pigs like to roll over on their side, like dogs, indicating that they demand a belly rub. In doing so, their mouths seem to curve up into a smile. They are in bliss. Pigs are also extremely social. The pig barn here is unofficially sectioned off by pig posse. When they sleep, they're always touching - either face to face or spooning. During the winter they sleep in a line to stay warm. Pigs can pick up tricks faster than dogs and rank #4 in animal intelligence. Also, pigs can run a 7 minute mile, which is way faster than anything I could attempt.

Interestingly, pigs need sunscreen just like we do. Pigs are bred to have lighter than normal skin in order to produce desirable meat - pork. Without sunscreen or a proper mud bath, they burn easily. They need us, but we don't need them.

For the past few days I keep thinking about the difference between a grilled chicken salad and Dino, my favorite one-winged chicken. Or a big juicy burger and Lawrence, the sweetest little cow I met on Sunday. How does a peaceful, loving creature end up as a meal? 

Would you be able to cut up your dog or cat and feel okay about it? Would this seem immoral and wrong? Would it tear you up to kill your best furry friend, maybe fry or grille him, throw on some seasoning, and call him dinner?

It's hard to explain exactly what I'm feeling about all this. I think it's something like reverence with a bit of shock. To imagine these creatures I'm starting to know, each with a name, as a commodity like an apple or rice. And how we've altered the names of the animals so that we cover up what we're truly eating. Beef is cow, no matter what sort of fancy name you call it - steak, sirloin, veal, t-bone, hamburger. Bacon and pork are pig. Poultry is bird - chicken, goose, duck, pheasant, turkey. Venison is deer. Foie grois is liver. Pâté is pureed seasoned meat. And more exotically, cervelle de veau, is calf brain.

So before you chow down on your next meal, think about what exactly you're eating. The animal, the being, the personality. Call it what you want, but you're eating something that was once alive. It had thoughts and emotions. Would you be willing to kill a pig yourself, butcher it, and serve it? Consider that before you sit down for a hearty meal of pork.