Day 8: Twenty tons of goodness

Ah, Mondays. The day I always promise myself I'll get up early and go to the gym before work. Coincidentally, it's also the day I always forcefully smash my alarm clock into submission and continue sleeping until all hope of a workout is long gone. One thing I did manage to pull off this morning, was throwing a ridiculous amount of vegetables into a crock pot on my way out the door. Here's how Crock Pot Lentil Soup was born:

It was way better than it looks, I swear. The recipe said it would turn to mush,
but mine stayed chunky. I'll just pretend I did that on purpose.

Crock Pot Lentil Soup (serves: one unincorporated town)

1. Chop it. Chop it all. Seriously. Whatever you've got, just throw it in there. Here's what the recipe calls for: 4 large carrots, 4 stalks of celery, 1 onion, 2 large sweet potatoes, 1.5 cups of green beans, and 4 cloves of garlic. Your fiance and you will have an adorable evening, chopping and drinking wine like you're straight out of the happy half of an arthritis medication commercial. (Eventually the moment will be ruined when your fiance's overly sensitive eyes go on the onion offensive and suddenly it looks like he just finished watching Marley & Me.)
2. Add even more stuff. Such as 2 cups of lentils, 64 ounces of vegetable broth, 1 teaspoon of minced fresh rosemary, 1 teaspoon of dried oregano, 2 teaspoons of salt, and 1/2 teaspoon of pepper. Additionally, you'll add one bay leaf. I will never claim to understand those things. One big leaf? In my soup? I just set it in there? Ok, if you say so. I would also like to acknowledge the fact that I actually have bay leaves in my home now... so that means I'm officially grown, right? Can I retire yet?
3. Question whether or not it's ok to eat canned tomatoes. The internet HATES canned tomatoes and wants to ensure that you never even look at them for fear of imminent demise. Don't pretend like you haven't gotten at least a dozen forwarded emails from your mother, grandmother, or concerned friend regarding the dangers of canned tomatoes. Something about the cans being made of kryptonite because otherwise the tomatoes would eat through the metal and take over the world. You'll eventually decide one can won't kill you, so you'll add 15 ounces of diced tomatoes to the soup and then patiently await your untimely death.
4. Throw it all in a crock pot the size of a VW bus. Let it cook for 10 hours on low. You'll come home to an awesome smelling house and dinner already made. When you spoon out two full bowls, you'll notice that you still have enough soup left to survive until the new year in case of a zombie apocalypse. Also note: the food you're about to hastily shovel into your face has been cooking for ten hours. Give it a minute to cool down before you cause irreversible damage to your taste buds.

The soup was great. It's excessively hearty and the perfect fall food. Scott loved it and had two bowls. There's nothing to feel guilty about and it's ridiculously easy to make. I added mushrooms as an after thought and they were soft within minutes. Really, anything could have gone in there... squash, zucchini, an old boot. It would end up tasty and tender no matter what. Our plan is to split the leftovers up into several different containers, adding minced peppers to one, corn to another, peas to a third. This way, at least there will be a little bit of variety in our lives for the next 80 Sunday afternoons. The freezer is going to have to pull it's weight this month.

Day 7: Hey, that's one week.

I'm now on post #3 of the evening and I'm fading fast. Procrastination, you fickle foe. Let's do a crash-course on today's adventures, shall we?

Got up early. Went to Comet Cafe. Actually got there before they opened for breakfast - a first for me. Both ordered the vegan breakfast scramble. I'm not a breakfast person in the first place, so I'm tough to please. Scott is the epitome of a breakfast person, so he's somehow even tougher to please. Scramble turned out to be pretty great. Tofu "eggs" are a weird color. Vegan bloody marys aren't covered in meat and cheese. Hashbrowns were a genius invention.

Took a nap. Meal planned (that's what I call going on Pinterest). Made the trek to Woodman's. Got overwhelmed. Couldn't find things. Then found things I never even knew existed. Bought several of them. Overheard several children having meltdowns. Overheard several parents having meltdowns. Spent a good 30 minutes trying to find lentils. Almost knowingly bought a bag of rotten avocados (they were only a $1!). Found a $10 magazine about wedding dresses. Bought two of them. Learned that you can basically buy rice by the metric ton for pennies. Bought my first packages of tofu, tempeh, and veganaise. Watched a teenage girl throw items past the check-out scanner at lightspeed while our bill crept closer and closer to $200. Got lost on the way out.

Grilled potatoes, zucchini, mushrooms, and red peppers for dinner. Tried to make kale chips. Burnt a whole lot of kale chips. Chopped and prepped everything for tomorrow's dinner (crock pot lentil soup). Vowed to go to the gym before work in the morning. Realized it was 11 p.m. Typed this entire post like a robot. Thanked you in advance for reading this swill. Promised to do better tomorrow.

Day 6: Halloweentown is vegan friendly!

Cedarburg or Halloweentown? Impossible to tell.

On Saturday morning, I took an impromptu trip to Cedarburg with one of my best friends, Ashley, so she could look for her wedding dress. Little did we know, Cedarburg during the fall is the spitting image of Halloweentown. If you weren't lucky enough to see the movie back in 1998 (and another 125 times since then on ABC Family every October), it's a quaint, happy place that is basically blanketed in Halloween decorations. The majority of the houses were built in the 1800s and have since been turned into shops, taverns, and restaurants. You feel like you're on a movie set when you walk down the main street in Cedarburg, plus it was unseasonably gorgeous that weekend, so the combination made the whole day seem surreal.

After shopping (she said yes to the dress), we wandered over to The Anvil. The first thing that came out of our sweet, older waitress's mouth was "this feels like a bridal party... is someone getting married?" She was wearing a shawl, had perfectly white hair, and was evidently psychic. Hal. lo. ween. town.

The menu looked amazing and the whole place smelled unbelievably good. Right away, I honed in on the veggie burger. There wasn't any fanfare about the way it was written, just "the veggie burger with lettuce, tomato, and onion." Famished, I ordered it with sauteed mushrooms on top, too.

Maybe my hopes just weren't as high as they were for the previous day's burger, but I absolutely loved this one. It was hearty, the mushrooms were a perfect addition (go me), and the fries were blatantly addictive. At one point, I felt myself hitting that point where I knew I had already eaten way too much, but I didn't want to stop. Being the only one still eating at a table of five, I finally mashed my napkin onto the plate with remorse, crushing what was left of the fries and making it mostly inedible. Had I not done this, I'm fairly certain I'd still be there ordering a 65th plate as we speak. It goes without saying: lunch was a great success.

After that, we rolled our ever-expanding selves next door to the Cedar Creek Winery. We sampled several wines and were quickly informed that if you buy more than a dozen bottles, you get a price cut. Naturally, we left with 12 bottles and Ashley's mom is now a proud member of the Case Club. She's entitled to discounts, complimentary tastings, tours, and all sorts of fun stuff. I highly recommend going this route, assuming you are not like me and have more than 1 square foot of storage space in your kitchen. Of the 12, I went home with two bottles of my own (Pinot Grigio and La Belle Vie) and they've made wonderful companions for cooking, blogging, and crying over old episodes of Sons of Anarchy. The best part is that Cedar Creek Winery is completely vegan, so I can't go wrong.

By the end of the day, I had purchased two bottles of wine, two necklaces, two pairs of earrings, four scarves, and two dishtowels. You try saying no actual shopkeepers! When was the last time you purchased an item from someone who owned the establishment you were shopping at? It's a whole different ball game, and it's awesome. Turns out, if the person behind the register isn't a moody teenager in mid-text, I'm completely unable to stop myself from buying something. Stay awesome, Halloweentown.

Day 5: Ratatoullie (the burger, not the lovable rodent)

Yes. I've been an absent blogger over the weekend. Mostly because it was so gorgeous out and I was busy doing awesome things and whatnot (by that I mean shopping and taking naps, not kite boarding or repelling). I can't say if that will be the case over the next three weekends or not, but I am realizing that committing to one blog post a day was a lofty goal. The next thing I realized was how pathetic it was that I couldn't commit to moving my fingers over a keyboard each night for a month. Bloggin' ain't easy. I didn't choose the blog life, the blog life chose me. Have I made enough rap-culture blog jokes yet?

On Friday (the official Day 5), I made a taco salad for lunch (spinach, corn, black beans, tomatoes, black olives, and salsa as a dressing) and it was awesome. I highly recommend it. It's like the last bites at Qdoba when you're scooping up the leftover mess that fell out of your burrito and shoveling it into your face because you have no shame and Qdoba is a no-judgement zone.

For dinner, we went to The Eatery on Farwell near our house with Scott's parents. If you google "best non-meat burgers in Milwaukee," their Ratatouille burger comes up over and over. People go absolutely insane over it. We were excited to have found a place that would cater to all four of us without issue and I was excited to have my first vegan experience at a restaurant. For reference, this is the description I kept finding on U.S. Top 10 lists:

"3. The Eatery on Farwell, Milwaukee, WI
Mushroom enthusiast? You’ll love The Eatery on Farwell’s vegan Ratatouille Burger. This veggie burger puts a healthy spin on the American classic with its alternative portobello mushroom cap patty, and packed inside you’ll find roasted vegetables, Vegenaise, and Teese mozzarella cheese. What ties this burger together and makes it exceptional is the side of hot crispy steak fries that are out-of-this-world. I repeat: out-of-this-world."

I am a mushroom enthusiast! I like steak fries! If they said "out-of-this-world" twice, it must be INTERGALACTICLY GOOD!

We both ordered "the ratatoullie burger, vegan please, with fries" and let our coolness wash over us as we waited for our food. We are so vegan! Scott's dad's fish fry arrived (and looked amazing), then his mom's cheeseburger (yum), and then our mushroom patties. I was still excited, but it looked nothing like what I had in mind. All I saw was a mushroom patty with some fall veggies on top, and a starch-white bun that looked nothing like the fluffy, golden (probably buttered) bun that his mom's burger arrived on. But hey, vegan looks can be deceiving.

Actual photo of me at The Eatery.

A few bites in, we both finally admitted that the burger was sub-par at best. The bun was more of a super-dry biscuit and if there was actually Teese cheese or vegenaise in there, I'd be shocked. Maybe they changed their recipe, maybe they had an off night in the kitchen, or maybe we're just not vegan enough yet, but that burger left a lot to be desired. I certainly wouldn't have put it on a top 10 list. The potatoes were great though, thankfully (though I'm not sure I'd claw my eyeballs out and yell "OUT OF THIS WORLD" about them).

Never fear, friends. Tomorrow I will discover a much more delicious vegan burger and it will redeem all vegan restaurant options. And luckily, I was too lazy to write the post yesterday, so you'll get to hear about it approximately 1 hour after I post this. See ya soon, pals.

Day 4: In queso emergency

Today's post title is 50% inspired by a fire drill at work today and 50% me shamelessly loving puns. Basically, if your dad would tell the joke and be the only one to laugh, it's right up my alley.

It was a good day, friends. I got home from work earlier than Scott, so I decided to walk to Whole Foods and make friends with some new types of fruit. Sadly, it's far too easy to go into the grocery store all confident and leave with your spirits crushed. All the cool things I found in the produce section either looked like a character from Monster's Inc, had the word "dragon" in the name, or cost more than a plane ticket to San Francisco. As is the norm for naive Allie, I panicked and decided to just grab a few kiwis (exotic!), kale (rustic!), and rice tortillas (gluten-free!). Luckily, it was a gorgeous evening and the walk home revived my zest for life.

Tonight's dinner was Sweet Potato, Kale, & Black Bean Quesadillas. SPOILER ALERT: These were awesome and if you make them, you'll never regret it. I don't even want to think about how good they'd be with real cheese and sour cream. But I digress. 

Here's how it goes:

Photo credit: Cookie Monster Cooking. Mason jar, spork, and whimsy not included.

Sweet Potato, Kale, & Black Bean Quesadillas. 

1. Peel, chop, and boil 3 medium sweet potatoes. Since you're so skilled after Tuesday's debacle,  peeling the potatoes will go surprisingly well. Boil them on high for 15 minutes, adding 1/2 teaspoon of salt to the pot - or you can pour a random amount into your hand and carelessly toss it in, because it makes you feel like Emeril Lagasse. BAM.
2. Mash your potatoes. Or have your strong fiance do it, because he's a stickler for a job well done.
3. Add 1/4 teaspoon salt, 1/2 teaspoon cumin, 1/2 teaspoon chili powder and 1/4 teaspoon oregano to the potatoes. Your fiance will have these things stirred into the potatoes before you know it.
4. Chop 1-2 chipotle peppers in adobo sauce. No matter how much that can smells like barbecue sauce, do NOT dip your finger up to the second knuckle and lick it like you just finished a plate of wings. Regret will follow. Once you're done chopping and nursing your wounded pride, stir the minced peppers into the potatoes, because you're making the meatloaf of 'dillas and everything is going into the same bowl.
5. Thinly chop 3 green onions. These are the long skinny things that should really come with an instruction manual. After you expertly chop the entire thing and make a little onion mound on your cutting board, you'll think to yourself "hmm, is there a difference between that soft green side and the firm white end?" so you'll ask Siri. (JK, you'll Google it because you still have the phone invented by A.G. Bell.) You'll quickly realize that the nice lady in the tutorial video separated the green from the white and definitely didn't use the entire thing. You'll curse into your phone (you've been catching up with your  mom) and she'll tell you the right way to do things. You'll end up shrugging and using the whole damn pile, because life's too short to be sorting onion bits.
6. Heat 1 tablespoon of olive oil in a pan, then add onions and 3 cups of chopped kale. Listen as those tricky devils sizzle. Cook for about 2 to 3 minutes until the kale is "bright green and tender." Of course, you'll have no idea what this means because: 1) what is "bright green?" Are we talking stop light? Tennis ball? Mike Wazowski? 2) it's easy for the author to say "until tender" because they don't have to stick their fingers into a sizzling pan of oil-coated leaves to test their doneness.
7. Once cooked, add the onions, kale, and 1 can of rinsed, drained black beans to the potatoes. Your fiance can officially skip the gym, because Arm Day is now complete.
8. Spread the mixture onto half of a tortilla, sprinkle on some cheese (or "cheese"), fold over, and grill on a lightly oiled pan. Once the (")cheese(") starts to melt, flip your 'dilla. Tonight, you will quickly learn that forgetting your empty Pam-sprayed pan on the burner while you taste test in the living room leads to a kitchen full of smoke. At first it looks cool, like you just walked on stage at an Aerosmith concert. Then you'll realize that you can barely see the microwave from the doorway, yet you don't hear a peep from your smoke alarm. That can't be up to code.
9. Serve with salsa, hot sauce, and sour cream (or coconut milk yogurt). You'll wolf down two, acknowledge how wildly full you are, then still consider making at least 3 more. 

I mean it when I say these were great. They had a significant heat to them and the lack of meat never crossed my mind. I have to say, these were the best thing we've made so far and will definitely be a household staple.  If they made vegan Hungry Man Dinners, these would be in them. I felt like an eco-conscious lumberjack who went out for Mexican. I don't want to hype them up too much, because then they'll never live up to your expectations, but youshouldstopwhatyou'redoingandmakethesenow.

I want to quickly review three vegan foods that graced us with their presence tonight.

• Teese Vegan Cheddar Cheese - It specifically says on the package that it "melts & stretches." The former is good to know, the latter is TMI. (Who needs their cheese to stretch? Are you planning to wrap it around a bed of rice like a burrito shell? Are you pulling it like taffy to burn a few cals? Are you using it like an exercise band to get a good stretch in your hamstring?) It comes in a little sausage tube and put up a good fight when I tried to open it, but Scott liked it and I didn't mind it, so it was a successful purchase.
• Daiya Mozzarella - Holy crap, this one says "melts & stretches" too! WHY?! Verdict: I liked this better than the cheddar - on the quesadillas, at least. A little bit goes a long way and it's not fooling anyone with its claim to be "mozzarella," but I was pleasantly surprised.
• So Delicious Coconut Milk Yogurt - My brilliant, vegan officemate suggested this as a replacement for sour cream and it was surprisingly on par. I hate coconut anything, but this didn't taste like it at all and lent a cool tang to the quesadillas. I caught myself saying "I wouldn't eat spoonfuls of it" as if I normally mow down 18 dollops of Daisy in one sitting. It's a great alternative to sour cream and I'll be keeping some in the fridge from now on.

Well, that's all I've got. Before I retire to the pile of dishes waiting in the sink, I do want to stop and thank you all for being so awesome. I made this blog on Sunday night and it exceeded 1,000 views by Wednesday. At least half of those are probably my mom, but that still means a whole lot to me and I want to personally hug each and every one of you (with my words?). You're the best.

Tomorrow: we're heading to The Eatery On Farwell to try their Ratatoullie Burger. I'll keep ya posted.

Day 3: Taco Time!

I'm going to skip the part where I elaborate on how badly I wanted cheese today (on a scale of 1 to I'd Do Terrible Things For It, I was at an easy 250), and jump right into the glory of dinnertime.

Tonight I tackled Chickpea Tacos & Guacamole. This is not a difficult thing for the average chef to prepare, nor the person with an adequate knowledge of how to chop multiple items and set them in a bowl. Still, it was a big achievement for me. Here's how it went.

This is anexample of how to overfill your taco and turn it into an exploding mess.

Chickpea Tacos & Guacamole (serves 2 people who have the tendency to overeat)

1. Mash 1 avocado. You accidentally put it in the fridge, so this part's going to be a nightmare. Good luck.
2. Chop 2 tablespoons of white onion. You'll have a terrible eye for estimation, so you'll chop 1 teaspoon worth, put away the onion, wash the cutting board, and clean off the knife several times before you make enough.
3. Mince 2 cloves of garlic. "Mince" seems like a friendly enough verb. It sounds like a tiny, effortless task. This part should be a breeze! The trouble is, garlic is made of two things: Elmer's glue and pure spite. You'll find tiny bits of it stuck on the side of your knife, underneath your table, on top of the ceiling fan, and a couple pieces behind your ear days after you finish chopping. Sorry... I mean, "mincing." 
4. Chop 2 tablespoons of fresh cilantro. This is a cakewalk compared to garlic, so you cherish it.
5. Juice 1 lime. You don't have a fancy, metal squeezer machine, so you'll have to use your paws. I also recommend wearing safety goggles for this step to avoid irreversible eye damage.
6. Mix the contents of 1-5 in a bowl. Add sea salt and fresh ground pepper to taste. (But you'll realize you forgot to add them several hours after you've finished eating.)
7. Taste test your guacamole with some chips. Chip #1 will be flavorful and delicious. Chip #2 will be a little more realistic. By chip #4 you'll realize that your avocado and your lime probably shouldn't have been the same exact size. You'll later realize that is where your guac went horribly awry. You'll eat it anyway, despite the 30-seconds of involuntary cringing that occurs after each bite.
8. Chop 1 white onion and add it to a saucepan with 6 tablespoons of water. Heat it on medium-high for 2-3 minutes until the onions are softened.
9. Add 2 cups of cooked chickpeas to the pan, along with 2 tablespoons of taco seasoning. You have Pinterest and thus know all, so you won't be using a packet of taco mix. Instead, you'll create your own, because Rachel Ray told you [via her website] that store-bought packets have way too much sodium. In a small dish, stir together 1/2 tablespoon of cumin, 1/2 tablespoon of chili powder, 1/2 tablespoon of garlic powder, 1/2 tablespoon of onion powder, and 1/4 tablespoon of crushed red pepper. Then add it to the pan. Cook uncovered for another 3 minutes until everything is heated through.
10. Assemble your tacos. I added lettuce, tomato, black olives, and a small amount of the lime paste formerly known as guacamole. If you're feeling crazy, you can add hot sauce, tortilla strips, or salsa. As always, you overfilled your first taco and the contents spilled everywhere, urging you to turn the remnants into nachos instead. Because nothing is less messy than trying to balance several round beans on an uneven chip surface. It'll be a cute little circus though.

These were filling and satisfying, though I can't count how many times I caught myself reaching for sour cream or cheese out of habit. Does that go away, fellow vegans? Or will I forever be cursed with visions of string cheese dancing through my head?

Well look at that, we've come full circle! I'm going to go muffle my dairy sobs into a pillow until I cry myself to sleep. (Disclaimer: I get the slightest bit dramatic when I'm tired and I was excessively sleep deprived today, so let's pretend this post never happened.) Tomorrow we delve into the world of vegan cheeses, so stay tuned!

Day 2: Sweeeeeeet po-ta-to (bah bah bah)

First, let's acknowledge that Neil Diamond jokes make terrible blog post titles.

Second, let's chat about how awesome dinner was tonight. I rolled the dice a bit and planned Chipotle Sweet Potato Burgers for day two of the challenge. "Wow, you sure live on the edge, Al!" you're likely exclaiming. I was surprised, too. Going from a Culvers butterburger to a cheeseless patty made of oats and potatoes didn't seem all that logical at first, but I called an audible and it paid off. These were super easy to make, but I'd like you to join me for a step-by-step tutorial, because "[insert some quote about bonding while you cook together here]" -Julia Child.

Photo credit: The Chubby Vegetarian... because my picture looked absolutely disgusting.

Chipotle Sweet Potato Burgers - the only guide you'll ever need.

1.  Peel 2 sweet potatoes. While using your rusty peeler, be sure to accidentally rap your knuckles on your kitchen table at least 12-15 times per spud. Once you finally get two nice long strips of peel and start feeling capable again, make sure the peeler gets caught on an uneven lump and slides off the potato at light speed, connecting with the nearby microwave. Only 325 more strokes and you're done! (Side note: maybe not all sweet potatoes are shaped like Massachusetts, but mine sure were.)
2. Cook your sweet potatoes. My coworker, Jesse, recommended cubing the potatoes and boiling them; I fully endorse this process. It takes about 15-20 minutes. Spend this time pretending your fork is Poseidon's trident and dash it into the starchy seas every few minutes to test the softness of the potatoes. You now feel empowered like the Greek god or goddess you are inside.
3. Mash 'em up. Mash 'em up real nice.
4. Prepare your buns. When your fiance asks "so what are we going to eat this on?" be sure to curse under your breath, give him your sweetest smile, and quietly reply "...can you please run to the store and get some buns?" He will sigh, make fun of you for a while, laugh, sigh, change out of his sweatpants, sigh, grab the car keys, sigh, and ask if there's anything else you forgot. You'll insist there isn't. He'll roll his eyes as he sighs his way out the door. And boom! Crisis averted!
5. Combine the following in a large bowl: 1.5 cups quick-cooking oats, 1/2 teaspoon cumin, 1/4 teaspoon granulated garlic, 1/4 teaspoon salt, and 1/4 teaspoon cracked black pepper. Then decide "hey, I think I made a lot more potatoes than I needed. I'm going to double all of these things!" and then do that. Then start to wonder how this large bowl of dry oats is ever going to be a consumable meal and feel grateful that your fiance is wandering the bread aisle instead of observing your obvious look of concern.
6. Add 1-2 minced Chipotle chiles from a can. Or remember the panic attack you had while trying to find the correct type of peppers last Sunday, which led you to just purchasing one tiny can of mild green chiles. It's not your fault, everyone gets confused by simple produce shopping. Now shake yourself back to reality... and decide not to add chiles at all, because some decisions are just too scary to make on the fly like that.
7. Add the mashed sweet potatoes to the seasoned oats. Before you do, take note that you have way more oats than potatoes, even though it should be a 1:1 ratio. (Repeat steps 1-3 with one more potato as you wallow in shame.) Stir everything together until it's mixed well.
8. Cover the mixture & refrigerate for 15 minutes. Because the recipe says to.
9. Press together each patty, but be warned that your phone will ring, your dog will demand to go out outside that very instant, and you will fight the sudden urge to sneeze... all while your hands are hopelessly covered in potato goop.
10. Fry the patties in a lightly oiled pan for 4 minutes each side. While you wait, turn around and realize that you've managed to dirty no less than six bowls, several forks, two measuring cups, three pots, multiple spatulas, and that god awful peeler. Pretend you're Samantha Stephens and can make it all go away with the twitch of a nose. Cry because you're not.
11. Serve the burger on a whole wheat bun and top with salsa, chiles, and avocado. Just because you were too afraid to put the chiles into the burger doesn't mean you can't man up and put them on top.
12. Consume two burgers before you've even finished chewing your first bite. Because they're pretty awesome.

See? Easy as that!

I really enjoyed these and Scott was a fan, too. In the future, we'll play around with toppings to add a little complexity. (Or maybe I'll actually follow the recipe instead of removing the "chipotle" portion of "chipotle sweet potato burgers.") They're very filling, which brings me to Vegan Revelation #394: there is such thing as feeling full and entirely satiated without wishing you'd never been born. I can't count how many times I've overindulged in something excessively non-vegan, then wondered how I would ever move again. I ate a lot tonight - more than I should have - but that sluggish, awful feeling is almost entirely absent. Do I want to run a marathon right now? No. But to be fair, my answer to that question is always no.

In conclusion, "Chipotle" Sweet Potato Burgers are tasty, hearty, and don't require post-meal hibernation. What more could a recovering dairy addict hope for?

Day 1: Who removed my cheese?

Well, I can officially say we've made it 24 hours as vegans. It wasn't bad, by any stretch of the imagination, but I will admit that a tiny part of me died when I opened the breakroom fridge at work and saw four slices of pizza sitting next to a bag full of string cheese. What struck me at that moment was: damn, I wish I was a vegetarian. I can easily say that thought had never crossed my mind before today, but seriously... cheese.

Some lady (hi, mom!) has been insisting for years that I ditch dairy for a while and see how I feel. As much as I miss cheese, I will admit that this was the first day in months that I wasn't horribly congested. I have no idea if it can really affect you in just one day or if it was just a placebo effect, but I'm happy enough not to care.

I should also mention that Scott dropped about 6lbs... in a day. No, he doesn't shovel coal in the hull of the Titanic for a living. No, he didn't do P90XsanityTURBO12 Zumba Edition. And no, he didn't lop off his foot. When a guy goes from a steady diet of Pizza Hut to eating only veggies and whole grains, things happen metabolically. (Yes, you can quote me on that, Medical Journals.) I won't pretend to know what I'm actually talking about, but I have a feeling his weight loss had a lot to do with dramatically reducing his salt intake and retaining a whole lot less water. There. That sounds right. Ish. Then again, maybe he was just accidentally holding our cat when he weighed himself the first time. (Just kidding: our enormous cats surpassed double-digits on the scale years ago.)

Before I get to the food portion of today's rant, I'd like to put a few things out on the table: I do not have access to a National Geographic telephoto lens that can capture the beautiful intricacies of every microorganism in the meals I prepare. I do not live in Tuscany where the sun is perpetually setting, filling my kitchen with a breathtaking glow. I do not have a functioning digital camera (you jam the battery in backwards ONE TIME and it never forgives you). I do not have an iPhone or even a phone that is capable of ringing without freezing. Moral of the story: my pictures aren't about to be framed above your mantel. But I've been around the block and know that every blog post needs an image or else it's dead in the water. If we all just agree to lower our standards from Pinterest to Playskool, everyone wins.

Ok, on to the food. Lunches for me just aren't that tough. I have access to a fridge, a microwave, and even a stove or oven if I feel like subjecting my coworkers to excessive temperatures in a confined space while they try to enjoy their cherished breaks. Scott, on the other hand, is not so lucky. He uses the ol' ice-pack-in-a-lunchbox trick to keep his food nice and damp, because life is one big field trip for him. He's usually out on a construction site for the majority of the day and has no means of warming up his food, so leftovers are out of the picture. Starting to worry that he was about to embark on a 30-day PB&J diet, desperation led to an idea: I took a tortilla shell, slathered on some spicy hummus, added a bunch of red pepper slices, shook on a nearly fatal dose of red pepper flakes, and ground up some black pepper because it made me feel fancy and it matched my overuse-of-pepper theme. Long story short: he loved it and wanted another when he got home. The key to a newly vegan man's heart is spiciness. Plain and simple.

If you're still reading at this point, I just want to metaphorically shake your hand, because this is getting mundane in a hurry. Wrap it up, shall we? Here's how dinner went: I made Pistachio Pesto Pasta and was pretty proud of myself. Sure, all you have to do is boil noodles, throw a bunch of stuff into a blender, then add the former to the latter, but if I wasn't doing this, I'd probably be ordering Jimmy Johns for the 3000th time, so... yay me.

Admit it. That looks pretty decent.

It was simple: while your noodles are boiling, chop 1 clove of garlic then 1/2 cup of pistachios in a food processor (or in a blender, or with whatever throwing-star-like device you have atop your counter), add 2 cups of fresh basil, 2 tbsp of lemon juice, 2 tbsp of feta cheese (or in my case, nutritional yeast - and seriously, who was in charge of naming that product? Rebrand. Stat.), and 1/2 an avocado. Then slowly add 1/4 cup of olive oil until you have a delicious paste. Toss it with warm noodles and then let the smug feeling of grown-ness wash over you, because you just made your own pesto, pal. The lemon juice went a long way and made the dish light rather than oppressive (like the folks at Big Cheese). Did I still want to cover it in a thick blanket of Parmesan? You bet. But was it a satisfying, tasty dish that yielded at least 3 days worth of meals? Sure was. When I go to make leftovers, I'll be adding some cooked mushrooms and tomatoes on top though, just for style points.

I'd love to stay and blather all night, but there happens to be pesto on every surface of my kitchen - OH WAIT, I almost forgot to mention! I was taking a mushy tomato outside to dispose of it in an environmentally friendly manner (aka: throw it in the back yard) just as a friendly little raccoon happened to be scavenging at the foot of our porch steps. We both stopped in our tracks, stared at each other, and then I slowly rolled the tomato down the steps to him. He ran up to it, grabbed it with his adorable little critter paws, and tried to figure out what it was. Just as I thought we were going to snap into a Disney movie and become best friends, the dog nosed her way out onto the porch and my miniature friend ran off into the night. Well, the garbage cans... he ran off into the garbage cans. He's probably enjoying the bag of yesterday's discarded cheddar as we speak. And I'm ok with that.

Creating a blog takes all the fun out of creating a blog.

So, this is happening. I made a blog. I'll admit there is a fairly specific reason why I chose this point in time to start blogging, but we'll get to that later. Aside from the looming mystery reason, I mostly realized that I've got a bum hippocampus and I'd like to actually remember the better portion of my life. Thus, a blog was born.

This is young [loosely parented?] Allie
not making good life choices.
HANG UP AND DRIVE, YOU LUNATIC.

Plus, now that I've been a gainfully employed, functioning member of society for three years, I should probably start doing things like "making better decisions," and "planning for the future," and "stop drinking Monster." I figure, what better way to hold myself accountable than posting my potential-successes/imminent-failures for the whole world (or 3 to 5 of my Twitter friends) to see? It's not a niche blog ("Left-handed Texan Juggalos!") nor does it have a wildly popular theme ("Rustic Budget Weddings!"), but it's my little place to ramble and - like all my favorite hobbies - I can do it from my couch.

You know what they don't tell you about creating a blog? That you will spend countless hours desperately trying to come up with the most clever, intelligent, mind-blowing blog name the world has ever heard. The best part is: even if you do come up with something great, it's all but guaranteed that the Blogger URL will already be gone. Bye bye, brilliance. Just for kicks, let's run through what my thought process was like:

• How about something Wisconsin-related? The Mitten? This will only make sense in WI (and that dilapidated oven mitt to our east) and everyone else will think I have a knitting blog. 
• If you give a girl a blog - too children's booky.
• Does this blog make me look self-absorbed? - too many words.
• Don't judge me. - a serious contender and I'm not writing it off just yet.
• Two hoots & a holler - this was probably taken by an apple farmer with two pet owls.
• Kiln It! - too pottery-related. Oh, and I guess it's too similar to my brother's motorcycle club's blog, Killin-It. (I get royalties for the link or something, right, Danny?)
• And so it vegan - too... um... vegan. We'll address that later.
• What do other people name their blogs? After further research, I've found that most popular blogs sound like Andy Dwyer bands with a cutesy twist. Whimsy Kitten, Sweet Bean Treetop, or Glitter Box Duckling. Didn't bother checking their availability, because I'm sure those were all snatched up eons ago.

All I wanted was something that acknowledged my current big-girl motto (do things you think you can't do) and hinted at the fact that I'm not here to take myself seriously. Days later, in a fit of desperation, I ended up choosing the last thing I thought of. So a pig flies into a bar. Get it? The pig flies (inspiration to achieve the impossible!) into a bar (LOL, JOKES)... Yeah, well, settling for mediocrity seems like the better choice at 10pm on a Sunday night and "PLACEHOLDER TEXT" seemed obvious, so it stays for now. Don't get attached.


Also, I like thinking of a happy, flying, presumably adorable pigs, so I remember why I'm not eating them anymore. Oh. Yeah... I got so distracted with blog names that I almost forgot to make my big announcement:
When the sun rises on Monday, September 23, Scott and I will be starting a 30-day vegan challenge. 
Now, let's pause and let that sink in. Allie (whose food pyramid is just one big wheel of cheese) and Scott (who quite literally loves pizza more than some people love their own children) are going vegan. I'll be the first to admit that I have no idea what Day 31 will hold - maybe we'll feel so great that we won't revert... or maybe we'll celebrate over 60 pans of lasagna - but no matter what happens, I'll be happy if we've committed entirely for a whole month.

I've meal-planned for the week. I've ordered PeaPod (because I was too depressed after today's Packer game to go grocery shopping). I even threw out all the offending foods (tonight you feast, city raccoons). So now that our fridge solely contains ketchup, beer, and almost-expired tortilla shells, there's no turning back. Since this blog is a reflection of my life, the next 30 days will likely consist of recipes I've inevitably botched, honest portrayals of whatever results we do or don't see, and several long-distance love letters to dairy products.

Now, as the sun sets on our final day of gluttony, I'd like to dedicate this slow jam to my first true love: cheese. While our split is indeed unnatural (you belong to me, I belong to you), I fear we were blindly and knowingly engaging in a moribund relationship. Goodbye, delicious friend.