Vegan cooking with food processor.

For the holidays, my grandma and I swapped expensive objects we couldn’t use.  I’d purchased a pair of decent running shoes, but the arches proved to be too high and they killed my feet. Around this same time, Grandma bought a food processor.  She makes her own bread, plus dog biscuits for the dog, and dozens of other things besides – cooking-wise, she is the real deal.  After a few uses, she realized the processor she’d purchased was too small to make her usual batch size.  Neither food processors nor running shoes are easily returnable after obvious use.  So I lugged the shoes back to AZ and gave them to her, and she gifted me the food processor, which I lugged back to Chicago.  Had to check my bag because, blades.

Why did I want a food processor taking up counterspace in my teensy kitchen?  Well, as noted in the resolution post, I’ve been talking for ages about attempting veganism.  I grew up vegetarian and I’ve always been lousy at cooking meat—hate doing it, actually.  Grosses me right out.  James and I mostly eat vegetarian anyway, but once a week we’d make a giant batch of something meaty and hearty for him to take to work.  It got to the point where I categorically refused to cook the raw meat parts.  I’d compile an enchilada casserole, but only once he’d cooked the ground beef.  Even then, I’d eat on the meat meal once, nibblingly, then give the leftovers over to him.  This is an absurd state of affairs.   Hence, time for a two-week vegansperiment. Why two weeks?  Eh, it was arbitrary.  I figured I could eek out two weeks worth of meals before the fresh veg got wilty and bemolded.


Verdict thus far?  Mixed bag.

The food processor is a wonder.  Fastest apple crisps and veggie soups ever, and it did okay on the green smoothies, too.  Thanks, Grandma!

But.  Eating out is nigh impossible, and it’s the major form of socializing for my cohort.  I absolutely could not avoid dairy, and after I tripped up there (early on in the game), it was a slippery slope to fish.  I wound up giving myself a free pass for meals out, but I did generally make healthier (and at least ovo-pescatarian) choices thanks to being a bit more conscious about what I was stuffing in my face.

The first week went famously.  I was in love and never wanted to eat anything but vegan stuffs forever and ever.  Then a week in, I went to this insane exercise class at the university gym, a crazy ab-intensive strength training thing, and… Well, let’s just say I broke myself.  I’d been running and spinning, but I hadn’t done serious muscle-building in ages.  Messed myself up but good.  Kept waking up at 4am starving.  Dreamt of protein in animal-shaped packages.  Actually, I mostly dreamt of chilaquiles.

Which is ultimately what I ate.  Two days after Hell Workout I gave up and ordered a massive and completely not vegan plate of chilaquiles at the nearby Latin American restaurant and immediately felt less like death.  So, experiment fail, I suppose, but lesson learned, too.  When it comes to lifestyle changes, one at a time please.  I’m hoping to get my weekly workout routine consistent while eating lowfat, and I’ll try the vegansperiment again when my body remembers it has muscles and rather likes the using of them.


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