Hi hi internet folk. I do apologise for the slacking. I didn’t think ahead and of course, was kept far, far from my computer as I accompanied my bro to have his eyeballs fried in a shopping centre and was then plunged deep into the countryside for two days for a dear school friends wedding. While this interrupted blog flow, it provided significant blog fodder. Thank you middle earth (Northamptonshire).
The title of todays post which, I warn you, will be brief, is so true. Despite my motor mouth being on serious form, offending many and shocking a few more, I have been a terribly polite vegan this weekend. So polite infact I’ve almost been carnivorous.
As I type these words I am reminded of another episode in which my seemingly ‘polite’ behaviour was challenged by my Japanese boyfriend at the time. I was staying with his family in Tokyo and his mother had made the kind of enormous sushi feast generally reserved for special occasions e.g. Christmas or having an English girlfriend to stay/ amuse you by being able to use chopsticks. Not realising that I would be the recipient of said fishy feast, she toiled for hours before presenting the meal. Rather than admit that I thought fishy sushi was the work of the devil, I gratefully pretended to be delighted and ate as much as I could bear then proceded to vomit what I can only describe as black leaves for about two days straight. My dear sweet man of the moment Masato kindly pointed out that, “English people think that this is being polite. We think it’s stupid”. Well. Friends. Let’s put it like this, I’ll give you a few choice details at a more reasonable hour tomorrow alas for now, I’m mid argument. It’s with my digestive system and I am not in the lead. Thanks cheesy pesto tomatoes, maltesers, margherita pizza, krispy kreme donut, lettuce and mayonnaise sandwich… the list goes on. Animal kingdom and bowels, I hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive.
You may remember that way back at the beginning of the vegan march trial I sampled a delicious raw vegan pizza from Urban Eats in London. (If not, read about it here) Well, that experience whet my appetite and it was only a matter of time before I got back onto the cooking and tried one of my own. As I do not intend to explore the raw food route much further at this stage, I took inspiration from the raw oat bran base and made my own bastard, cooked version.
With the aforementioned beats of Auntie Flo’s Future Rhythm Machine album distracting me, I didn’t quite manage to follow the instructions to plan so slightly undercooked the base. Alas, it was a damn good first effort and is likely to become a vegan gyspy staple. It was easy and I just used whatever I had in the kitchen. Just the way I like it, minimal planning required!
Oat bran base – I subsituted milk for almond milk and added some extra linseed for no apparent reason beyond thinking it might make it healthier!
+ Scrambled tofu topping – tofu fried with garlic, onion, turmeric, paprika and chilli flakes
+ garlic and lemon courgette slices – fried gently
+ romano pepper slices and spring onions to finish with a bit of colour
(I may have a new blog, but my pictures are still shite. Apologies and all but what to do?!)
ah ah ah ahhhhhh, thank you Miss Baldi for pointing me in the direction of Auntie Flo. While finishing off my reviews, I’ve been accompanied by the filthy beats of what I understand to be the Glasgow producer known as Auntie Flo.
Have a little listen here on the Boiler Room website
If you don’t already know of Boiler Room, you should. Especially if you think we could be friends in the real world. This is my thing.
Yet another string to my already heavily (albeit weakly in parts) stringed bow is finding bizarre and often beautiful unexpected surprises along my merry way. Today was a write off until I locked down a press ticket to a Cabaret show in Brighton and stumbled upon some amateur stand up comedians flyering for their show.
I can’t discuss much about being vegan today, although I can definitely relate to the gypsy in my new self declared blog alias. I cycled around the city with a bag on my back, stuffed full of hastily prepared vegan food on the go and saw three shows, all of which now need to be reviewed. Before I even consider starting them, I need some tea and peanut butter on toast. The classic late night food of a body builder, not a woman with a very keen enormous woman lurking beneath. Who gives a shit though, I’ll get back to the gym tomorrow I promise, late night snacking like this is a habit I refuse to reconsider.
Until I get that tea into my system I have little to add and even then, I need to summon all of my energy into writing a decent review for the Fringe Guru site. I have been entrusted to do this, so must keep my language sensible and outcomes positive and constructive. There is sure to be criticism but after three very different shows, I am satisfied and delighted to be living in Brighton during the festival. How often do you get the chance to wander into a town and find yourself at the first of two free shows chuckling away an hour later. Apart from a reference to my weird snake laugh, I left The Hobgoblin amused and unscathed. Tomorrow night may not be the same. A Canadian friend I met when we worked together in an East London pub is performing, so I will be there with notepad. He has no idea that I will be reviewing it, so let’s see what happens. Mike Sheer.. bring it on!
Oh wow. I’m tired. The week has been long, yet it’s only Monday. That is because I’ve been on the streets of Brixton and a well known National supermarket chain carrying out surveys on Caribbean food since last Wednesday. It has been an enlightening week in many ways; I have learnt a lot about myself and even more about exotic cuisine. Being vegan of course means that I will not be eating Jerk Chicken anytime soon, although I might try it to see how I can recreate the flavour in some trial vegan food. I don’t really want to eat Chicken however I definitely want to taste the flavour at it’s most authentic. I am therefore hoping that some of my new friends from the week can help me out with some recommendations for local Jerk dining.
I was also drooling in the aisles when a woman said that she had a can of a certain brand of coconut milk in her trolley as she was about to go home and make sweet potato pudding. Oh my. Can you imagine that? At the end of a day of flourescent light and one vegan Trek bar, I could barely hear her words, I was too busy eating them.
So I’ve had a quick online and this recipe sounds pretty similar: Vegan Sweet Potato Pudding
Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) I don’t have any sweet potatoes lurking in a shaded room, so I cannot have one of my all night culinary benders. Instead I will do it at a reasonable hour, possibly even in daylight, tomorrow.
So… farewell day one of the vegan gypsy blog, I am off to have a bath.