Oatmeal for Dinner

When we talk about oatmeal -- especially (spoiler!) steel-cut -- we're really talking about grains in general. Thus I'm not going to bother writing "oatmeal (or any grain)" or "grains (oatmeal, in this case)" in this post. I can make this decision because it's my blog. If you don't like it, go elsewhere.

Astoundingly, I've sunk to a new low: I'm actually posting a savoury recipe for grains.

Why, might you ask, is that the shark-jumping of vegan food writing?

Firstly: Every namaste-ing EarthTone with a hybrid and a regrettable tribal tramp stamp has a favourite recipe for something along the lines of a barley risotto, bulgar pilaf or Asian Buckwheat Stir Fry with Seitan Nuggets. Those magazines that glare at one from the fringes of the check-out are full of such recipes, most of which have too little fat, no salt, and far too many alarming inclusions -- such as hemp hearts (wtf?) -- which render them into nothing at all that I would be inclined to eat, let alone feed to my treasured guests.

Secondly, and perhaps most importantly: I say it to be so, and thus it is. If you had been paying attention up to now, you wouldn't need to ask such frivolous questions. Perhaps you should go to another blog.

Of course on paper, grains are a perfectly logical vegan food. They have many pros: they're somewhat tasty (when the subtle taste of the grain hasn't been hidden by hemp hearts, for example), are certainly filling, and are usually inoffensive. They're healthy, economical, low-fat, full of fibre, blah blah blah...

On the other hand, grains have sort of a smug earnestness about them, as if they're the food equivalent of those puffy beige people who go to church, refuse alcohol and think children actually have minds and can feel pain.

And they're just inextricably bound to one of two paradigms: breakfast or side. To have oats for dinner -- and not as a side, but as the main attraction -- is cognitively dissonant, like seeing a pop idol t-shirt on anyone over 14 who isn't (a) homeless, (b) one of those cute tourists from some nation where all the people are miniature or (c) suffering egregious brain damage.

There's an intimidation factor at work, too, because one wonders if one should rinse or not, pre-soak or not, ignore the recipe and stick to the well-chilled Gewurztraminer or not... the list is endless.

Thankfully there are some recipes that break through the chatter and result in a perfectly good dish that is neither too nouveau-vegan (no hemp hearts) nor too aggressively beige. This dish, inspired by a trolling through the NY Times archives, is one such dish. The seasonings are assertive but not overpowering so that the flavour of the oats comes through. The toasted coconut adds to the roasty umami-ness of the dish while the hit of fresh herbs at the end elevates and freshens.

Coconut Oat Pilaf

3 tbsp olive oil
1.5 cups steel cut oats*, rinsed to remove dust, checked over for stones and debris unless you have steel teeth and/or feel lucky
1 tbsp freshly grated ginger
1 tbsp black mustard seed (or yellow if need be, but why not get the right ingredient for a change?)
3 cardamom pods, black preferred, inner seeds only
3 whole dried chilies
0.5 cup unsweetened long shredded (if possible) coconut, dried
0.5-1.0 cups finely chopped mint, cilantro or parsley (if the latter, mix 1/2 & 1/2 with diced shallots)
*Use only steel-cut oats. If you don't have them, but you have another hearty grain, you can probably substitute. Don't blame me, though, if you have to play around with the proportion of water.

Heat oil in a large-ish pot until it glistens like sweat upon a breast. Toss in oats and stir to coat, then add ginger. Cook for a few minutes over medium heat until the oil and roasty oat and ginger is fragrant and alive in your kitchen. Add the spices, which you have prepared in the usual manner (smashed in your heavy stone mortar and pestle that you had to lug through the mall because no one would carry it for you even though you had a wounded finger from a psycho cat who had had enough of a belly rub for one day, thank you very much). Once the mustard seeds start to pop, add about 2.5 cups of water.

Bring this whole mess to a boil and then reduce to a gentle bubble. Cook this for about 10 minutes until holes appear on the surface. Cover, remove from heat and let stand for the next 22 minutes while you prepare a salad, have a second glass of wine or simply indulge in conversation with your beloved. While you are doing this, though, you might want to remember to toast the coconut that you forgot about. Use a heavy skillet (that they all said you didn't really need... such an amorphous word, need), dry, and medium heat. Toast until brown and fragrant. Resist urge to dip vegan marshmallows (which you have previously (a) dipped in melted chocolate, (b)briefly wetted under the tap or (c)rolled in maple syrup) into the coconut, but if you do, make double and divide batch.

Finally, when you are ready to serve, toss in the toasted coconut and fresh herbs. Season profoundly with freshly cracked black pepper and good sea salt. Don't be a wuss about this; grains need salt. Serve warm or cold, as the case may be.

Why Are You Vegan?

Is a question I get a lot of these days. My buddy Sean sent me an email to ask me this question, and while I was writing a response I realized that it would be a good post.

So here it is.

You ask me, Sean, why I'm a vegan. Well, you know that I'm an argumentative bastard, so let's turn it around a bit.

We both know that some meat is dangerous to eat. We know that meat harbours diseases. We know that it's cruel to factory farm animals.

We know that eating a vegetable-based diet is healthier, cheaper and promotes weight loss. It may also prevent heart disease, stroke, some cancers and diabetes.

The obvious question, then, is this: Why aren't you vegan?

Okay, that was a bit snotty and a bit disingenuous, too, because really I don't care very much about all that stuff.

I suspect that every food source is potentially fatal to you: look at all the cases of e coli poisoning in spinach and vegetables every year. Soda can kill you -- and not just because it'll rot your teeth and harden your arteries. So I'm not a vegan because meat is inherently more dangerous for you.

A poorly organized diet, whether vegan or not, can be just as unhealthy as a meat-based one. We all know fat vegetarians (mac and cheese is vegetarian, after all), and besides, booze is vegan, unless you're one of those weirdos who count microbes as sentient (and, umm, I don't). So I'm not vegan because a vegan diet is inherently healthier.

Cheaper? Have you seen the price of raw almonds lately? We spent nearly $60 on raw cashews and almonds for a month's worth of nut milks. Organic stuff is pricey, too. Eating well costs a great deal, whether you opt for ooh-la-la steak or fresh organic berries. So I'm not a vegan because it's cheaper.

I like animals, sure, but I'm not an activist by any means and I think some farms -- like the good kinds Michael Pollan writes about in The Omnivore's Dilemma -- are well-managed places where animals are treated humanely and slaughtered mercifully. And, honestly, I still wear leather. And I am owned by two willful cats -- something a true animal activist would find abhorrent. So I'm not a vegan for the animal rights part of it.

So why am I a vegan?

Because I can afford to be, and still eat well, and others in the world can't even afford to eat.

I have worked in orphanages and shanty-town schools in Uganda where the children are fed barely-palatable gruel each day -- and for some it is the only thing they will eat.

I have lived with people in China who stretch 200gr of meat to feed a family of 6 or 8 -- twice. And that's only when they can afford to get the meat.

World hunger is a big problem, and it's going to get worse. An acre of land dedicated to raising cattle produces about 165lbs of usable meat. It consumes 20,000 litres of water to do this. That same acre can produce about 20,000lbs of potatoes -- or 32,000lbs of grain -- while using less than half the amount water.

I am a member of the most affluent society. If I am part of a movement that reduces the demand for high-cost (in terms of land use) foodstuffs, then maybe more lower-cost foodstuffs will be available to help feed those who desperately need it.

And that, Sean, is the reason that I'm a vegan.