Oyster mushrooms can do anything. They are heavenly delicious as a ragout and, well, in anything. And they cost about their weight in gold, which is expensive for something you're gonna eat. Well, they're worth it, just like almost any good but somewhat expensive food-item. But I did add some button-mushrooms for variety, which turned out great. I just halved or quartered them, and I can definitely recommend it, even when they don't look as cool. Also: oyster mushrooms were the main attraction in the meal from heaven that featured mushroom-rissoto. And then I found a new way to prepare them. Maybe equalling the meal from heaven. It's the only thing I've tried from the books so far, but I'm definitely ready for more. The desert section is astounding (if you ignore some of the tofu-mishaps, I don't like tofu in my chocolate).
The books are spec-ta-cu-lar. Also with regards to health and low-fat, but mostly with regards to taste. Waaaahhh, the taste. It is so fucking amazing. Millennium has 2 books. I wasn't really impressed when we first received The Artful Vegan. I didn't get around to reading it, some of the recipes didn't immediately speak to me, they seemed somewhat farfetched. And then I saw a picture of the kalamari. And had to make them. I did away with the stir fry, and we had it with some rice and the mayonnaise. And that's the brilliance of the millennium cookbook (besides the healthfulness). Almost all the recipes have some component that is outrageously good, and the introduction actively encourages experimentation. For those people looking for something more than a generic recipe to sheepishly follow: get those books, NOW.
Photographing mushrooms pretending to be dead squid is quite the challenge. Photographing that attractively I mean. They don't really do colour, or variety. Just texture. And taste, but I can't capture taste on picture. Go with the Revisited Cashew Mayo, maybe substitute all the vinegar for lemon juice and add zest, and definitely add capers, the mushrooms go wonderfully with capers. But in all fairness, assuming these oysters have anything in common with squid is blasphemy. They do have a chewiness and a deep deep lovely fried taste of succulence, but the squid can't hold a candle to the oyster mushroom. Just remember that. And let the squid swim, swim freely!
A last little note: I will be very busy for some time to come. There's just a lot to design theatrically. I will not abandon you. Expect me around Sinterklaas, maybe earlier. We'll be back to full speed by christmas.
november 9th, 2011
Seeing wildlife is like seeing celebrities. But better! I agree with Tanya. Nothing beats a nice hedgehog (no deer over here, you might even say pigeons are our last form of wildlife). Oooh, and there's bats. I don't think I've ever introduced you to Freshtopia, it didn't seem relevant, because the show stopped a long time ago. But I have to admit I revisit regularly to watch. They have some great tips on vermacomposting, Barb makes it seem so easy, and some of the farms they describe are exactly where I'll be when I grow up/transform into crazy sheep lady.
Now, raw foods aren't exactly my thing, don't know why, but in moderation, it's all well and good. And immodest amounts of raw desserts are absolutely the way to go. We could all do with some more salad and raw veggies, so when not making it too big of a deal, I'd say raw is a pretty good way to go some of the time. Also, when I practice yoga regularly (and not twice a week because I'm being stressy about work and school), anything that has high calories but is somewhat healthy is my friend. So yay raw-brownies, boo low-fat. Raw pasta is also quite good, by the way. Check out Freshtopia, classic!
oktober 30th, 2011
I have a confession to make. It is somehow related to Toby the Targ, B'Ellana Torres' stuffed targ. Now, I know Bobby isn't Targ. But he is stuffed and if I were to go on an away mission for more than 3 days, I probably would take Bobby. I am not sure why I keep comparing Toby and Bobby, I think it's because I can identify with a grown woman being attached to a plush toy.
Bobby and I have been through a lot, and with the exception of my immediate family, more than anyone. He was with me when I was in the incubator and has been ever since. And although I do put him away when there's company (I do so hesitantly, but I don't want to scare the newcomer), I usually introduce them (they have to know who comes first) and I hate traveling because that means he stays home (don't want to lose him on the other side of the globe, now do I?).
I always thought Bobby would last until I'd started living together with somebody around the age of 30, which would mean him automatically losing his spot in the bed to Mr. Podc-Aster. Or if there weren't any candidates it'd just be me and Bobby forever, which was a serious upside to becoming Crazy Sheep Lady (I always thought it would be cats, but no, sheep are the way to go).
Howevere, after 20 years of fateful friendship, his knit is coming apart. I've sort off fixed it with some regular sewing thread, but it could come apart any minute. To be honest: hugging him would be murder.The cotton is so old that it's coming apart inside the thread, just breaking in places.
So as a last honor to Bobby: he disappeared for 3 horrible months when I thought he was lost forever, when I was 4, only to come out from under the wicker costume basket. When I was 7 he performed the lead in an all puppet cast of Hair (in English, he was wise for his age). That one night when I was 16, I felt so sad and lonely and he slept with me even though my then boyfriend was there (an he comforted me the most). Both moments of great joy or sadness never frightened him. And while I love my camera and computer and name them as well, attribute a personality to them etc., I'd gladly trade Oscar (who is worth, in fact, 6 months wage) for the rest of my life with Bobby. Bobby is irreplaceable.
There is a serious and normal-people related topic to this post: things we can do for Tim DeChristopher. I am writing, but it's such an awkward thing, writing to a complete stranger. But I just wanted to let you know that there's an option to do so. And if "Tim DeChristopher" doesn't ring a bell, I suggest you start that investigation by, where else, checking out Reverend Billy's Sanctification of Mr. DeChristopher (or should I say Saint DeChristopher?).
oktober 21st, 2011
YEAH! The bastards are (almost) gone. They're spider mites or some such. They thrive in moist Wormcities. So I added some dry newspaper and cardboard, the condensation in the lid stopped and tiny brown dot populations effectively shrunk (though not completely abated). Now, I have a great deal of trouble with timing the whole feeding thing. The need food 2 to 3 times a week now, because the last time I gave them only on portion a week, they ate all the newspaper. The levels of compost have significantly risen, as well as the fluid in the sump. Remember the therefore intended brick? It now serves its purpose with regards to swimming worms. As always, here are the visuals. More and more people are pointing out that it is gross, worms and food together. But they're all part of one very big ecosystem, so deal with it. Also, I find that they have a strange, slick, shimmery charm. When they do not disgust me to the core. Yucky tiny worms.
oktober 15th, 2011
Just watch it.
oktober 10th, 2011
Don't worry, you're still set for post until mid-november. However, there won't be Vegan MoFo on this blog this year. I'd love to try again next year, if possible, but for now it's just a bit too much. I will share with you a somewhat unpleasant yet hopefully funny anecdote from last night, and then proceed to point you to the Mofo-feeds.
Yesterday night, as I am writing a good old-fashioned letter to a dear friend (Victor, that's you), the kind with the paper and the fountain pen and the stamps for the snail mail, I have to refill my filling. In the interest of somewhat eco-consiousness, my fountain pen has one of those classic reuasble-turn-the-knob-then-filly-things, even though I am notoriously bad at filling them, having stained my fingers 100% of the time so far. And although I had a spectacularly nice week at school, I was really tired, and perhaps I was watching a vegan cooking show in the background. Multi-tasking is disastrous. So I tipped the ink-jar over. Onto the expensive chair, the not-so-expensive-but-very-stainable-light-colored-wooden-ikea-desk and the floor (also expensive and stainable). And my legs and pajamas. It took quite some time to get everything clean, although the chair and desk are irreparably stained (pajamas awaiting rinse-cycle). After washing my hands, changing pajamas and getting the stains off of my feet (non-succesfully) and the floor (successfully), I took following picture. I scrubbed for quite some time to get my hands this non-black. Uhu. Yeah. The soles of my feet are yet a darker shade.
In any event enjoy your Mofo! There's lots of great ones out there, there's even a list of gluten free, soy free, etc. YAY! You now know I'm too busy staining items with horrible ink due too conflicting emotions and (still) a lack of sleep. But steadily making progress in the snooze-departement. Aster out.
oktober 9th, 2011
One has to be able to admit when one is wrong, I think. And I was very very wrong. Not that the last cashew mayo recipe was a punishment to eat per se, it still beat the mustardless-abomanation by Delicious TV Totally Vegetarian, but it wasn't as good as it could be. So I am here today to not only right the wrong of the fatty cashew-mayo, and introduce you to an ingredient you will be hearing much more of in the future.
Back on topic: I fiddled around with the mayo-recipe for a bit, and came to the conclusion that replacing 1/4th of the oil with water was still a bit heavy, 1/2 seemed perfect, and 2/3s was too much. So keep the fluids at a steady half/half, 1/4th of a cup of neutral oil, 1/4th of a cup of water. If you'd like to soak the cashews, you can, but then you're gonna have to find the perfect ratio for yourself! As it turns out, this mayo is invincible, and uberadaptable. It served as lemon-caper dressing and just plain lemon-mayonaise for the oyster mushroom kalamari that are yet to follow (which are some of the best things I've eaten in years).
You could also add some Kala Namak, it is eggy heaven. So maybe it's not egg (did I mention I didn't like egg?), but the aftertaste is very similar. Even the first whiff was so authentic I wasn't sure if I was going to like the stuff. I added 1/4th of a teaspoon. You can add it half half with regular salt, but I think a realistic, absolutely realistic egg salad consisting entirely out of baked tofu and cashew-mayo is no longer out of the question. You'll hear from me!
oktober 4th, 2011
So perhaps I named this post before going to the actual Pizza Party. And perhaps Pizza Party, even with the capitals, doesn't do it justice. Not that I didn't have any good pizza, I did, I had one, it was vegan, it was toasty and roasted and salty and sour and tomato-y and there were mushrooms atop, but I preferred the sheep. A friend of mine joked he'd get me some in a bun with some sauce. I don't mean that kind of sheep. I have found my calling as crazy sheep lady (and I am not posting the home-movie that proves it). Sheep are like dogs, but then as god intended. They might sniff your crotch and bump you over and wag their tails, and pant because they are genetically designed production units for whool, they are mostly just nice.
The big sheep who knocked me over just as I was taking her picture (thats why we only have her mouth on film) was by far the nicest, although I can't say I disliked the others. They were just a bit more jumpy. In short: I spent the afternoon either running in designer pantyhose (15 fucking euro's) without shoes in a field consisting of 60% sheep shit, or on the trampoline. It was like being 6, but better. Also, there were massages, unimaginably lovely massages, and organic amaretto (I told you, better than when I was 6).
I brought my camera because it's always nice to send people pictures if they manage to throw a party this awesome. It is the most awesome party I have ever attended in my life. Normally I hate taking pictures of events as they are happening. It's so facebookesque, people photographing themselves pretending to have fun. But I have to say that the surroundings were so beautiful they just begged to be photographed. I didn't get people, just farm animals and plants. So call me crazy sheep lady, as I have decided to end up somewhere with sheep and lots of vegetables. Give me a camera to occasionally document the beauty and some friends to visit and take a break from it all every now and again, and you can call me a happy woman. Wait, I already am a happy woman. I'd be an even happier woman.
september 29th, 2011
The first post was 1000 words. It isn't any more, but be prepared: lots of food talk and no pictures. I just ate. And ate. And ate. And had the best time of my life! If you want to look at pictures, check out the new and improved moonsorganics.nl, the slideshow will be expanded in the future. But I was too busy eating to take snapshots, obviously.
So I have been pining for Lehka Hlava the last couple of months. I thought I could wait for the next Quadrennial, but I'm afraid next summer is the best I can do. My parents don't know this yet, but they could just get my sister and tag along. Or not. More coconut milk for me! Anyways: I was pining. Slightly depressed. Down. And then there was the shining beacon of hope that is Vaartsche Rijn. 5 minutes walking distance from our house (I am néver moving). It's not Hleka Hlava, but in some ways much much better. Hleka Hlava is like heaven. The other one is more like posh heaven: you can't afford to go nearly as much, you feel at home but would prefer quinoa-carrot soup 6 out of 7 days, but my oh my, it's nice to visit posh heaven every once in a while and enjoy their vegan foam-concoctions. In fact, it's very very good food, not just gimmicky weirdness. The last post was 1000 words because I tried to describe the food en detail. It was impossible. I kept drooling over the keyboard, reliving the meal, hearing my inner Homer Simpson make it's noise with every new description.
So, second try: there was a lovely soup-thing (a classic, green peas with mint) with something cucumber on a spoon (black sesame seeds, soy sauce, amazing). Then there was the tomato-plate: there was SO MUCH DIFFERENT TOMATO. I'd like to say that the crisps were better than any parmesan-crips I ever had the good fortune to stumble upon and I'd also like to order a pint of the tomato sorbet for home use (eating in pajamas on the couch, reading subversive literature). The risotto was indescribably good, a bit like the one we have at home but better, with tiny tastes of fennel in-between, artichoke (god, I didn't realize how much I love artichoke) baked mushroom (it's like butter, earth and salt had a baby that is much more than the sum of it's parts), balsamic vinegar and artichoke sauce, oh, and salty sautéed spinach-goodness. At that point I was ready to take the chef (and his attractive colleague) hostage, and force them to cook for me like this every day, just because. But that seems to be illegal, and I was out of small firearms. I could let my mum do a guest post on the dessert, because it wasn't my thing. I was still with the mushroom and the unexpected fennely goodness and the creamy and the chewy and the crispy and everything, in my mind. It was probably a stellar dessert, very enjoyable, but I'm not really one for sweets, give me tomato sorbet (also sweet, but different) over apple-sorbet any day. But maybe my mum should post, because this isn't doing it justice.
In conclusion: if you have the time and the money, GO THERE. You will have to specify at least a day beforehand that you are vegan, and your friends and family can just eat fish and meat and whatever they like. There's no menu, food is a surprise, but you're good with regards to vegan. I'm not sure if you have to specify if you're vegetarian beforehand. Also: if you're a meat eater I realize the above-described dinner might lack in certain regards. I've had my fair share of weird parmesan cookies on unpleasant cheesy dishes, not that we eat out that often, but enough to know that vegetarian means some sad vegetable drowned in cheese or eggs. And that is a shame. With steak, there's never much more than a dreary looking salad that is just as much deceased as the cow you are consuming along with it. I say this not because every one should be vegan (although everyone should) but because tomato with goats cheese is something different than tomato, pure, clean, delicious tomato. Even though something is most definitely lost by omitting the cheese.
But right now, I can honestly say that the best meals I've had are post-vegan, without all the complimenting animal products. That being said: this chef is not about killing innocent carrots, I'm quite sure every dish was as balanced and delicious as ours. So it's not because "all vegan food tastes better". Certain tastes are sacrificed, new ones will emerge. But it's mostly because I've learned to taste food, truly try and enjoy it as I would a piece of art, because it has become more to me than mere fuel. It's social, moral, complicated, appreciated, to talk about, different. It's the difference between art before I had art history and after. I've always liked it, as long as I can remember and it meant something to me. But reading about it, learning about , although not a completely easy, pleasant, uncomplicated experience, did bring me closer and gave me an understanding and appreciation I'd otherwise have (severely and sincerely) missed. Be it for Rodin or for the humble tomato.
Damn, still 900 words. I guess part two will have to wait!
september 24th, 2011
It's just like the last time I gave you an all text-post. There sooo much photo editing to be done. And also: I have to sift through 273 pictures from my mum's 100 days of yoga. This is of course all in my free time, as well as the web-design for our foundation. But that takes time. Even when we finally have a logo.
Anyways: regarding school, there's two very challenging assignments, one for MC and the other one just as a class. And tough both are really lovely, it's quite daunting to have other people depend on my work. Which explains the fun, but also the challenge. If I fuck up, my class or random professional actors will look unappealing. And I don't wish that on either of them. So, naturally, I will not fuck up and create the best work of my life so far.
That just means that I'm not cooking most of the time, just working. And also not sleeping; I gave that up some time ago, and while sugar would be quite a good thing to give up, it turns out giving up sleep makes one paranoid and cranky. And not particularly creative. All was solved in the shower this morning when the ideas came to me (5 at once), but then I didn't have the time to execute them properly, let alone give you the pictures and an in-depth restaurant review. Sleep is still top priority. I basically feel (and consequently look) like death warmed up.
So, ending on a somewhat uplifting note: there's I believe about 12 tot 15 pictures awaiting publication, all much prettier than the horrible beet-cake pictures (I know, nice color, it didn't even need "upping"/editing but horrible horrible composition). Also, the portfolio needs updating. Next time there'll be more pictures, in-depth reviews and a whole slew of '80's movies. So as soon as I have a day to myself, the movies/food-genrepostst will be severely updated. So will worms (I'm warning you, it looks eeeww, they can swim now). You'll hear from me shortly, or at least asap.
september 13th, 2011
Vorige Posts
