Our fridge. Payton, the turkey we sponsored last Thanksgiving; our cat butt magnets, a lovely housewarming gift from Ms. Tufts; and the thing that keeps me from going over the deep end -- our personal shopping list.
Raise your hand if this is you.
You go to the supermarket, perusing the different aisles and buying what is on your list. And then -- dang -- you realized you forgot such-and-such in aisle three. So you trek back through the crowds, colliding with other carts and politely letting others through.
You so meant to get here earlier today when there were no crowds, but so-and-so called and then you had to do that thing that you've been putting off. And then, of course, you had to go to that appointment at eleven that you scheduled four weeks ago. And, you sheepishly admit to yourself, sleeping in this morning didn't help either. (Apologies to all the parents out there who are now understandably rolling their eyes at the couple with no children.)
Before you knew it, there was no other time to go to the market than NOW. And NOW is exactly the time that everyone else decided to go to the market. (They had the same kind of unfolding day.) The last thing you want to do is to have to retrace your steps and go back to aisle three.
Can I have a Hallelujah?
After enough trekking backwards to aisle three in my life to cover the length of the Massachusetts Turnpike, I decided to make a grocery list that actually made sense. I don't like my precious weekend time eaten up by retracing my steps. There are gardens to dig! Movies to see! Games to play! (And yes, a house to clean and all that, but who wants to think about the boring stuff? A post devoted to food shopping is bad enough.)
To make a more speedy shopping trip, I mapped out in my mind the best walking route through my favorite supermarket (one end to the other, in a winding, snakelike fashion). Then I listed the groceries I normally buy along that route. After a month of tweaking this list of items, I came up with a shopping list that allows me to get into the store, do my thing FAST, and then get out in record time, allowing me to resume my weekend.
Notice that this is the same list, done twice. That way, I just print several copies, cut them in half, and then stick them on our fridge with a strong magnet, so they're ready to go whenever we need them.
I created it on my
Googledocs account (or you can just create a Word document) and then shared the
document with my husband. So now it's online where we can access it, edit it, and print it from anywhere. If you'd like a copy, leave a comment below with your email and I'm happy to share the document with you. (I won't enable the "edit" function for you, but you can just copy it and paste it onto a new document and then revise the whole thing for your eating preferences and store layout.)
Another thing I find helpful is to write the week's menus on the blank side of the shopping list and then when I'm done shopping, I hang the menu on the fridge so I can refer to it throughout the week. If I'm using a recipe from a cookbook, I list the cookbook intials and the page the recipe is on, so I don't have to hunt for it later in the week when I'm hungry and grumpy.
Sorry these are so out of focus! I have much to learn about photography. But this is an example of the list filled out.
And this is the flip side of the list, showing our weekly menu with cookbook initials and page numbers. (As you can see, I cooked a LOT from the Vegan Slow Cooker cookbook this week.
What sorts of timesaving tricks to you use to make life about living and not about backtracking? (These can be kitchen-related or otherwise.)
I'd been wanting to go to this wonderland since I'd learned about its existence last summer.
Ryan took this one and, in fact, most of the pictures on this post. He's a more skilled photographer than I, plus I was so caught up cuddling with the animals, I had trouble noticing anything else.
Farm Sanctuary has three official locations: Watkins Glen, New York (where we went); Orland, California (where we almost went last year but ran out of time); and Los Angeles, California. It has three missions: rescue, education, and advocacy. You can learn more about their wonderful work on their website.
We went up midweek last week. My husband Ryan is a musician, so his summer weekends are basically spoken for by one of his three bands, my favorite of which -- Field Trip -- often plays his original tunes. (You can hear a sampling here!) So we've been doing a few mid-week minitrips throughout the summer.
Located in upstate New York, about half an hour from Ithaca, the farm is in the midst of such gorgeous landscape, you almost feel like you're driving in one of those calendars with the pictures that look too majestic to be real.
Our first night there, we stayed at one of their three B&B cabins, which I'll talk more about on the next post. (But they were adorable.) After enjoying a light breakfast the next morning, we went on a tour of the farm with our guide, Ben, a most enthusiastic and friendly fellow. We first met in the "People Barn," where we watched a quick film about Farm Sanctuary. Note the wall of signed photos of famous pretty people who had visited. (My favorite was Ellen DeGeneres's. Everyone else had something deep and meaningful written on theirs, and Ellen's handwritten message read simply. "I'm Ellen.")
The People Barn
Ben walking us through the cow pasture.
First we visited the cow barn. The cows were wonderful and incredibly docile and sweet, despite their initially intimidating size. I'm embarrassed to say I forgot the names and even genders of the animals, but not their lovely natures.
This sweetie kept laying her head on my lap. I just fell in love with her.
Who could harm this baby?
One thing that really stood out to me was how clean everything was on the whole farm. Every barn got completely cleaned with new straw every morning. And there were enormous industrial fans in the upper portion of each barn, circulating the air so that each building was wonderfully comfortable, despite the heat outside. In the evening and throughout the night, the whole farm was humming with fans in a very comforting white-noise way.
Next were the goats. They had just been put out to pasture to have their barn cleaned, so we got to spend a lot of quality time with them outside. They were endlessly affectionate! I started snuggling this sweetheart below, who loved having his neck scratched.
A little more to the right...
That's the stuff. Right there.
The mutual admiration society
And then another came for his share.
And then I realized I had someone literally leaning into my back. They all wanted love. Immediately.
Is it me, or does it look like I'm officiating a wedding?
Then I thought it would be good to remember my neglected spouse, who'd been snapping photos the whole time.
I can speak from experience that Ryan is a GREAT headscratcher. This goat hit the motherlode.
Goats these days are routinely kept both for their meat and for their milk to make cheese. (Obviously these goats were not subject to such treatment.) Like dairy calves, the babies are taken away from their mothers so as to keep the milk for humans. Some of the girls are raised to become "milkers" themselves, but many of the babies (particularly the males) are sold for meat. I can't imagine doing this anymore than I could imagine selling puppies to be slaughtered. And if you hang out with goats like this, you realize how delightful they are. Here is a baby goat named Fern at Woodstock Sanctuary that was rescued from becoming food: (very sweet video)
The pigs were busy sleeping off the heat of the day. Again, their area was spotlessly clean, with wonderful-smelling fresh hay for them to snuggle into. Most of them still carried dried mud on them, which keeps their bodies cool and prevents sunburn. Pretty smart! They LOVED getting good scratches, particularly on the belly.
You'll notice how large some of them are. This is because they've been genetically designed to put on weight FAST so that they can be killed when they are only six months young. When they are allowed to live out their lives, they -- like so many other factory-farmed victims -- get to very unnatural weights that cause a variety of health problems. Here is more information from Farm Sanctuary on how pigs fare.
This sweet one woke up and seemed to be appreciating a good scratch.
Then she let out a happy snort. Making a pig happy is most satisfying!
Sweetie fast asleep.
This was right before she rolled over so I could pay proper attention to her belly. It was a very dog-like gesture!
This mama started lifting her front legs up to give me better scratching access.
The turkeys were mesmerizing with all their trilled vocalizations. They can be very curious and affectionate and some of them love cuddling on one's lap. Turkeys are also bred to be unnaturally big with abnormally large breasts. As a result, they are too big to mate with each other. The males can crush the females to death with the effort. All the turkeys are bred to be white to make their flesh lighter and thus more pleasing to consumers. Here is more information from Farm Sanctuary on how turkeys are raised in factory farms.
Here are where the girls were kept. The males and females have to be kept separate.
And here is the one male I saw. He was adorable and very into getting attention. When we crouched down next to him to hang out, he stared right into our eyes.
As you'll notice here, turkeys typically have their toes cut off when they are babies. (It is also standard for the industry to burn off the top of their beaks with a hot blade.) No anesthesia is used, despite the amount of nerve endings present. As a result of their malformed feet, they can't walk correctly -- which is hard enough with their abnormal size -- and their toes often get large and infected at the ends. The wonderful folks here do rounds each morning, checking their toes and other previously mutilated parts for trouble.
Chickens. I love chickens. They're so fascinating to watch. Chickens are said to have it worse than any of the factory farmed animals. Here is a post I did on the egg industry and here is some information from Farm Sanctuary. In the United States alone, 287 chickens are killed every second. (This figure is from the USDA.) And perhaps more shocking is that they are bred to grow so fast, that they are typically six to seven weeks young when they are slaughtered. Those animals that we see in the supermarkets, in other words, are still chicks.
Here are some heartwarming stories about some of the chickens at Farm Sanctuary! :)
Is there anything cuter than a chicken's butt? So cute.
Interestingly, I spotted a garter snake in this little area with the chickens. I asked if they bothered the chickens, and learned that the chickens would often surround the offending snake and make their feelings known.
Garter snake. I think.
There were many more lovely animals we met and adored. I could spend weeks at this wonderful place.
Visiting Farm Sanctuary and taking a tour is such an uplifting experience. It gives you a glimpse of what the world could be. And perhaps more important, it puts an individual face to the unfathomable numbers of animals that we kill each year. Almost every animal here was part of the factory farm system, and you see how each animal is so unique. If you've had a number of companion animals throughout your life, you know this to be true. Each of them was different, just as every human animal is different.
If you visit, you won't be beaten over the head with the cruelties these animals faced. Instead it's just a very peaceful yet exciting experience where you can connect with animals individually. After you've scratched a pig's tummy and had her snort with pleasure, bacon loses all allure. When a cow who lost all her babies puts her head in your lap, you start to question if eating cheese is really worth the cost of what she's had to endure. And again, our tour guide never admonished us at any time, saying, "Maybe now you'll think twice about eating eggs, folks!" Rather, he led us through, explaining where the animals had come from, what they liked, how they behaved, etc. If you eat animal meat, eggs, or dairy, you'll feel very welcomed here and not judged in any way.
Oh! AND I got to meet one of my heroes, quite by surprise! Susie Coston, a powerhouse in the animal sanctuary world and Farm Sanctuary's National Shelter Director, happened to pass by us during our tour. I punched poor Ryan's arm and whispered excitedly, "Do you know who that was??" We saw her later in the cow barn and I went up, completely sappy-eyed, and professed my great admiration for her. Being the sweetheart she is, she gave me a big old bear hug, and Ryan quickly jumped in and asked if she'd mind a picture together. She quickly agreed, laughing, and then confessed that she didn't photograph well. Which I told her was perfect as I always look like a complete dork in pictures.
I. Love. This. Woman. You just meet some people and want them to be your best friend. She was one of those people. Just genuine, energetic, and happy. Who cares about all the Hollywood stars when you've got Susie Coston in the world? I think People magazine should start covering magastars like Susie, who make a positive difference in the world, rather than Tom Cruise, who likes jumping on couches.
It's hard not to look like a dork when you're standing next to your hero.
More to come in the next two posts. I'm dying to show you the cabin we stayed in, a beautiful memorial at Farm Sanctuary, the other Bed and Breakfast we stayed at, our fine dining at a rather well-known restaurant in Ithaca, a pretty gorge, and my sweetie's literal moment in the spotlight.
I'm trying to raise $1,000, and as of this writing have received $325 in online donations with another $50 coming by check. If you'd like to contribute -- and a couple of readers already have! Thank you! -- please go to my page. Any amount -- $1, $5, $1000 -- would be make a huge difference. Thank you!
I'd love to hear back from any of you who have had experience at an animal sanctuary or who are planning on going! (You can comment on other things too, of course!)
Thanksgiving is one of the few holidays that remains unadulterated. It's about coming together, eating brightly-colored, comforting food, and taking some time out to reflect on what we are most thankful for. I've always loved it.
When I was little, it meant getting up early to watch Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade on our livingroom TV. The big balloons were the best part, and I'd get giddy when Snoopy or Kermit rounded awkwardly about the city block corner, bobbing down at the elated crowd. The woodstove would be crackling and sending off comforting waves of heat and I'd dance around to the marching band music in my footie pajamas. All was right in the world.
My mom was a whiz at making the house cozy. She'd make Fat Lady's Dessert in the morning and I'd watch the parade while consuming a heaping bowl of it. (It was a mixture of a homemade strawberry whipped cream mixed with lots of fruit -- pineapples, mandarin oranges, bananas, frozen strawberries, apples -- and walnuts. It was a delightfully naughty way to begin a holiday! (It got its name, I'm told, when my mother ate an entire serving bowl of it when she was pregnant with me and uncomfortably overdue.) The whole house would smell of happiness as the day's meal cooked.
I think Thanksgiving was exciting too because it was like the Start-Your-Engines time for Christmas. From Thanksgiving until Christmas (and even later), there would always be a Christmas album playing, usually Nat King Kole, Bing Crosby, Gene Audry, Johnny Mathis, or Andy Williams. And the Muppets John Denver Christmas album of course. My grandparents, like clockwork, gave us grandchildren advent calendars on Thanksgiving, which officially began the exciting countdown. Gramma always found the coolest, sweetest calendars, always covered with silvery blue glitter. She had an eye for that kind of thing.
And Thanksgiving Night at my grandparents house? Talk about cozy. The house was filled to the brim with loud, laughing relatives who seemed to adore us kids. We were well-loved children! We'd usually play a few violent games of Spoons*, force mountains of dessert in our already-full bellies, and then Jane Riley, my grandmother's best friend since they were girls, would finally get pushed into the living room to play the piano. At this junction, she'd usually protest that she wasn't any good -- she was -- but someone would inevitably force her to sit down at the old upright piano. Then her amazingly nimble fingers would run across the keys and she'd lead everyone into enthusiastic Christmas caroling, which we'd belt out for two hours or more. (Made possible because my organized Gramma had typed up Christmas carol books with all the verses to all the songs. So a person had no excuse not to sing!)
People say that the whole Norman Rockwell family is a myth, but my friends, I was the lucky gal who landed in that picture, though there were probably more plaid shirts and inappropriate jokes in our version. Our family gatherings were such wonderful times, full of raucous laughter, playful teasing, and endless hugs.
In the past few years when I was considering vegetarianism, a small part of me was afraid that if I gave up meat (read, turkey) then I'd be turning my back on those irreplaceable memories. That I'd somehow be turning my nose up at my family, particularly those who were no longer with us. As I've mentioned before, though, seeing the reality of the animals' plight wiped those worries from my brain. And now that I've been vegan for 7 months? I can't believe I worried about breaking tradition. The tradition for me wasn't about the turkey. (You're probably thinking "Duh!" but bear with me -- I'm a bit slow.) It was about the memories and the wonderful smells and tastes of all those vegetables! The tart "ping!" of the homemade cranberry relish, the buttery squash (vegan butter tastes the same!), and, oh lordy, the party potatoes.
Party potatoes. We had those at every family get-together. A carryover from the 60's/70's, it is a mashed potato dream, with butter, sour cream, and cream cheese. You cringe, but you never tasted such wonder. Though it sounds heavy, it wasn't. It was the perfect blend of flavors. Party potatoes were what happiness would taste like if you could somehow serve it up. I decided to give it a whirl with vegan products.
Now, I should point out that I was not holding my breath. As I plopped all the ingredients together, I did not have a good feeling about how things would turn out, and had prepared myself for a disappointing culinary disaster. But I had to try! :) Much to my absolute delight, though, this new version tasted (drumroll.............) exactly like my grandmother's! Wow! And no cows hurt! Double wow!
Here is our beloved recipe if you'd like to try it yourself and have a serving of heaven on your Thanksgiving plate!
Party Potatoes
8-10 potatoes
1 cup vegan sour cream (Tofutti is awesome)
1 tsp garlic salt
1 tsp onion salt
vegan butter (Earth Balance is the best)
8 oz of vegan cream cheese (Tofutti or Follow Your Heart are both good)
paprika
Preheat oven to 350. Peel, boil, and drain potatoes. Beat sour cream and cream cheese. Add potatoes gradually. Add spices. Put in a 2 qt. ungreased casserole dish and dot with butter. Sprinkle paprika on top. Bake until brown on top. (About 30 minutes? I forgot to time it.) Makes enough for about 6 small servings.
We've also test-driven a couple of grain-based meats that we both like. Ryan's favorite of the two was the Gardein Stuffed Turk'y, which you can find the the freezer section. And my favorite was the Field Roast Hazelnut Cranberry Roast En Croute, also in the freezer section. Both are great! You can't go wrong.
I may also make the Stuffed Acorn Squash recipe from The Vegan Table, which has lots of yummy holiday recipes! I'm really lucky, though, in that my stepmother is going all-out to make sure there is plenty of animal-friendly fare at the table. Isn't that so sweet? I offered to take care of it, but she insisted. My heart is still all warm and glowing. :)
Here's a fun video of a woman who helps place rescued turkeys. (It gets intense at 1:32 - 2:26, so skip that part if it's too much for you. But don't miss the rest of it! The kids snuggling with these turkeys is too much and seeing them enjoy a nice blow-dry simply has to be seen to be believed.)
So -- what are fun old or new traditions that you enjoy on Thanksgiving? What is your favorite dish?
*Sometime before Thanksgiving, I'll post the game Spoons. You absolutely must play this game with your own family!
Today's post raves about how cool turkeys are! Tomorrow's post will focus on my yummy plans for Thanksgiving this year...stay tuned! :)
Two years ago, I happened upon a very graphic undercover PETA video on how turkeys are treated in the industry. (I believe it was at a Butterball factory farm.) I was devastated and could not fathom how people could be so cruel.
And yet I couldn't fathom giving up turkey.
So I went online and researched humanely-raised turkeys and how I could procure one that had had a good life and a fairly painless death. The closest I got was Whole Foods, who assured me that their turkeys had it much better than their Butterball counterparts. I felt slightly better, but still uneasy.
For two Thanksgivings, I got caught up in the tradition of the day -- a day I adore! How great is a holiday about giving thanks? -- and was able to successfully avoid thinking about the bird as anything but food. Yet I could always feel the blinders digging in in an irritating fashion, the way a bra feels when it's just not fitting right. (Sorry boys ... you'll have to come up with your own analogy.) :)
It wasn't until last April that I decided to stop eating animals, after finally seeing the immense suffering my taste buds were inflicting on animals that had done nothing to me. (And "humanely-raised meat," much to my dismay, did not get a free pass.)
Once I no longer had to deal with feelings of remorse, though, I became very curious about the creatures that I had previously and guiltily acknowledged as food. Turkeys, whom I'd always assumed to be sweetly daft, are fascinating creatures who defy the stereotype as the animal kingdom idiot. (Hmm....is it easier to hurt an animal if we think of him or her as unintelligent? As Jeremy Benthem noted in the 18th century, "The question is not, Can they reason? nor, Can they talk? but, Can they suffer?")
"Ethel arrived with six other turkeys, fortunate escapees from an industry that grows close to 300 million birds annually -- and then kills them.
Fortunately, Ethel was to have a different fate.
From her first day, it was clear that Ethel was a standout, curious kinda gal. Turkeys are gentle; Ethel groomed our truly free-range chickens, sheep, and pigs. Turkeys are affectionate; Ethel became our first lap turkey.
Ethel craves connection. Whether you're turkey, sheep, horese, chicken, rabbit, pig, human, or other is irrelevant. Her criteria are simple: if you live and breathe, Ethel wants to know you.
Despite her love of animals, Ethel seems to find the greatest joy in connecting with humans. When I sit down and cross my legs, Ethel sidles up to me until her big bird body touches my side, trills her lovely turkey trill, and stares at me. When I pick her up and place her in my lap, her body relaxes and her eyes quickly grow heavy with sleep. For those moments, all is right in my world, and, it seems, in hers.
Every weekend throughout our visiting season, both tour guides and guests struggle not to step on Ethel. When we're in the barn, she settles into the middle of each group, moving with us as we move from animal to animal. She moves from one guest to the next, looking deeply into their eyes. In these moments, whatever's in that big turkey heart seems a lot like love."
To further illustrate how amazing turkeys are, there's a new documentary on PBS about a man who, by chance, became the mother of a clutch of wild turkey eggs. It's called My Life as a Turkey, and it looks fascinating!
You won't believe this short clip from My Life as a Turkey. So sweet and moving.
So if these creatures are indeed so wonderful, how can we justify hurting them? Killing them? Giving them such a horrendous life when they pose no threat to us? And all this senseless cruelty when we can survive quite beautifully without consuming them?
Below is an intense video (and one amusing commercial) on what happens to turkeys in order to bring them to our tables. I feel fairly certain that very few people will watch this. In fact, the chances are that nobody will. Which is fine. I totally get it. But if we can't even bear to watch it, what does that say about our choices? (And I'm throwing myself in that ring too -- I ate turkeys for 40 years.) Should we be paying others to hurt/abuse/kill feeling animals when we can't even watch it happening, never mind do it ourselves? If we are true carnivores/omnivores, shouldn't we be salivating, not cringing?
Intense video of the journey turkeys take to get to our plates
(read above before watching)
And this commercial, which is not intense, but very accurate and pretty funny!
So, as I said, tomorrow will be all happiness and holiday-cheer! I'll be talking about the yummy things I've got planned for this Thursday and how you can help these amazing creatures in very simple ways!
