Thursday, January 31, 2008

New Vegan Pizzeria in Cleveland

12906 Madison Ave.
Lakewood, OH 44107
(216) 226-4000

Vegan Menu
(current as of 2/1/2008):

Toppings: Mushroom, Tomato, Onion, Black Olives, Green Olives, Mild Pepper Rings, Jalapeno Peppers, Pineapple Chunks, Green Peppers & Chopped Garlic.

Vegan Meats: Pepperoni, Canadian Bacon, Meatballs, Chicken Strips, Beef Strips, Salami,& Ham (Dr. Ross calls this Abra'ham'...It's Kosher)

  • Large Fresh Garden Salad: Fresh Lettuce, Tomato, Onion, Black olives, Green Peppers, Vegan Pepperoni, & Vegan Cheese $5.95

  • Large Antipasto Salad: Fresh Lettuce, Tomato, Onion, Banana Peppers, Black Olives, Vegan pepperoni, Vegan Salami, Vegan Ham, & Vegan Cheese $6.95

Oven Baked Sandwiches
  • Vegan Meatball: With Sauce & Vegan Cheese $6.95

  • Vegan Italian: Salami, Pepperoni, Ham, Cheese, Pepper Rings, Onion, Chopped Lettuce, Tomato, Vinegar & Olive Oil. $7.95

Pasta Penne

All Pasta dinners come with side salad
  • Plain sauce $7.95

  • With Chicken $10.95

  • With Meatball $10.95

Side Orders
  • Jo Jo Potatoes (8) $2.25

  • Garlic Bread Sticks $3.95

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

"Hamburger" Macaroni Casserole

I wasn't sure how to go about reviewing this recipe while knowing that it very well could've been what made me wake up in the middle of the night feeling like all my vital organs were liquefying and that my heart was going to stop and that I was going to die. All that sort of makes it sound like something you don't really want to recommend that other people put into their bodies.

Then again, a recipe itself is not dangerous--it's the quality of the ingredients that are. So I post this nonetheless, with the warning that most definitely, the combination of ingredients somehow turn this recipe into a ticking flatulence time-bomb. And it actually may have an even more powerful detonator than the infamous Seitan o' Flatulence, one that not only wreaks havoc on the gut by way of gas, but one that also has the ability to make it feel like all your organs have revolted against you and are in the process of disintegrating into a state of ooze and goo. Again, not something you usually want to mention when discussing a recipe, but I almost feel obligated to warn you.

And yet: despite all this, I've craved this casserole every night this week. Sometimes even late at night right before I go to bed.

It's not a fancy recipe. It's the kind of recipe you find on the container of French Onions, or the kind your mom would whip up for you when you were little and she had such a bad hangover that the concentration needed to dice or sautee or bake anything had crawled off to retch into the toilet and so all she could do was whip out a package of preprocessed stuff from the fridge and throw it into the oven. Not that my mom ever did that. But if she did.

Nonetheless, I kind of liked it. Because, again, sometimes it's just fun to eat something trashy that belongs in a cookbook from the 1950s where the second ingredient of every dish is LARD.

Oh, and I'm not sure why they felt compelled to throw 1/2 cup of corn into the recipe. It's almost like they felt guilty not putting something SOMEWHAT redeemable in there. But 1/2 cup is such a small amount that you won't even notice that it's in there. So if you want to delude yourself into believing it's not just a completely trashy dinner, you may wanna hook yourself up with a bit more corn. "Corn it up!" one might say.

I also just realized that you should feel almost obligated to be listening to Kimya Dawson while cooking this. Because she's such a delightful little "Hamburger" Macaroni Casserole herself. Though not the kind that makes your stomach want to curl up and die.

  • 1.5 c. macaroni

  • 1 medium onion, chopped

  • 1/4 c. green pepper, chopped

  • 1 T. vegetable oil

  • 12 oz. faux ground beef-style crumbles

  • 1/2 c. whole kernel corn

  • 1 small can tomato soup

  • 1/4 t. pepper

  • 1/2 t. garlic powder

  • Dash of cayenne pepper

  • 1 small can French-fried onions, ground to crumbs


Cook the macaroni according to the directions on the package. Drain, pour into a large bowl, and set aside.

In a skillet over medium heat, sauté the onion and green pepper in the oil until tender. If you're using frozen corn, it's probably best to toss it in at this point as well. Add the "beef" crumbles and cook until browned.

Preheat the oven to 350°F.

To the drained macaroni, add the onions and green pepper, burger crumbles, corn, soup, salt, pepper, garlic powder, and cayenne pepper. Stir to combine. If the mixture is dry, add just enough water to make it moist. Pour into a 10-inch square baking dish, top with the French-fried onions, and bake for 15 to 30 minutes or until the fried onions are lightly browned and the casserole is heated through.

Makes 6 servings

(Original recipe from VegCooking)

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

My LLP and Pumpkin-Chocolate Chip Scones

My LLP Peppermint cooked for me last week, because she is awesome like that (and secretly and seductively trying to get into my pants--DON'T DENY IT, PEPPERMINT! I CAN READ YOU LIKE A BOOK!! PARTICULARLY A BOOK TITLED PEPPERMINT IS TRYING TO GET INTO LINDY LOO'S PANTS (WHICH ACTUALLY HAS A KIND OF TWIST ENDING THAT YOU WON'T EVER SEE COMING SO I PROMISE NOT TO GIVE IT AWAY FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO HAVEN'T READ IT)!!!), and this is what she made:

Sadly, I can't remember what they were called, other than "Delish." But they were little potato-pancake-like patties that tasted strangely like potatoes DESPITE THE FACT THAT THERE WERE NO POTATOES IN THEM!! *Cue Twilight Zone music* Apparently rice is a potato-wannabe sometimes. Nonetheless, I dug them and thought they were tasty little buggers. Alas, Peppermint didn't manage to get into my pants THIS time around, but if she continues to cook for me like this (tastily and nekkid), she may very well get lucky in the near future.

On other cooking fronts, I made pumpkin vegan scones last weekend. And before I even accidentally offend the Two Vegan Sisters (which I totally don't mean to do, because they rock, and because I modified a bunch of stuff from their recipe, so any errors in baking-judgment were my own), I've got to explain my love-hate relationship with the scone. The elusive, mysterious scone. I find them very confusing. They typically seem to be rather dry. And they're not sweet enough for my sweet tooth. (This was the case for these pumpkin scones as well--thank god I added the chocolate chips.) The end result usually leaves me going, Um, I DON'T KNOW HOW TO FEEL ABOUT YOU, LITTLE SCONEY SCONES, BECAUSE YOU ARE SO VERY STRANGE IN COMPARISON TO THE REST OF YOUR BAKERY-FAMILY. But I *LOVE* how a nice cup o' coffee somehow transforms them into something glorious. End result with THESE scones was that I ate three of them throughout the day, despite being unsure whether I liked them or not. Were it not for the chocolate chips, they would've been horrendously bland. *BUT* the original recipe does call for a glaze on them, so I suspect this probably would've given them a bit more zip. And perhaps if I'd used butter instead of oil, they would've been a bit less dry. Or soy creamer instead of soy milk. Or added the glaze on. Or plain old didn't suck. One never knows.

Anyways, there are also many good reasons to check and make sure that you have all the ingredients before you start measuring stuff out; the biggest of reasons is, well, if you don't do that, you may suddenly realize you don't HAVE several of the ingredients. In my case, I realized I was out of vegan margarine. I also realized I was out of powdered sugar for any sort of glaze (vegan powdered sugar seems to be even more elusive in my area than vegan chocolate chips). I also don't ever have soy creamer handy (I'm a black-coffee gal--I like my coffee like I like my men: all up in my lap and burning my loins while I drive to work in the mornings), so I subbed in soy milk: again, perhaps this holds some of the blame for the dryness.

Anyways, aim for the original recipe and see how they turn out for you. Perhaps you won't suck quite so much as me.


  • 4 c. whole wheat flour (or 2 of all-purpose, 2 of wheat)

  • 1/2 c. sugar

  • 2 T. baking powder

  • 1 t. ground cinnamon

  • 1 t. ground nutmeg

  • 1/2 t. ground ginger

  • 1/2 t. salt

  • 1/2 c. Earth Balance margarine (I used 1/2 c. vegetable oil)

  • 1 c. pumpkin purée

  • 1/4 to 1/2 c. soy creamer (use less if using fresh pumpkin purée, add more if using canned pumpkin)

  • 1 c. vegan chocolate chips


Preheat oven to 425 degrees.

In a large bowl, mix flour, sugar, baking powder, spices and salt. If using Earth Balance, use a pastry blender to add in Earth Balance until thoroughly mixed. If using vegetable oil, whisk together with pumpkin and soy creamer/milk in another large bowl.

Add combined dry ingredients to pumpkin mixture. Mix, then divvy out into 12 lumpy masses and arrange on two baking sheets lined with parchment paper.

Bake until golden for 15 minutes. Transfer baked scones to a wire rack to cool, with parchment or wax paper underneath to catch drips.

(Original recipe from Two Vegan Sisters)

Thursday, January 24, 2008

Mock Meat Alert!

WOOO WOOO WOOO!!!! <----That's the mock-meat siren, alerting you to the fact that you're about to be hit by a F-5 mock-meat recipe!




Oh yeah, and somewhere in there, bust out a pan and spatula, and get to cooking!



  • 1 cube of extra-firm tofu, drained and crumbled

  • 1/2 tube of fake-sausage, crumbled (I used GIMME LEAN)

  • One small onion, diced

  • 1/2 green pepper, diced

  • 1 to 1.5 c. cooked/canned black beans, drained

  • 1/2 packet of taco seasoning

  • 1 T. vegetable oil

  • Salsa (preferably Newman's Own Black Bean & Corn Salsa)

  • Optional: tortillas or some sort of cooked, diced breakfast potatoes*


In a large pan or skillet, heat your oil. When hot, add your onion, green pepper, and fake-sausage. Cook until the sausage is brown and the onions are either browned or translucent. Add your tofu and 1/2 packet of taco seasoning, mixing everything until the seasonings are evenly distributed. Add your black beans. Cook until tofu is heated through and/or beginning to brown (depending on how you like your tofu).

Serve in warm tortillas or over breakfast-potatoes with a generous helping of salsa. (I prefer the one listed above, simply because it makes the breakfast scramble taste kind of old-school and McDonald's-y for some reason.)

Makes 4-6 servings.

* The first day, I served these in tortillas. With leftovers, I whipped up a batch of breakfast potatoes and served it over them. To make the potatoes, I simply diced up about 6 or 7 small red potatoes. I tossed them with some olive oil, garlic powder, and seasoned salt, and then I threw them in the oven for about 1/2 an hour at 450 or so, or until cooked through.

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

Crunchy Chocolate Truffle Pie

I've noticed once or twice recently that I use a lot of chocolate chips in my day-to--day living. Why this is, I'm not quite sure (except for the fact that a certain individual who's been hanging out at my place a lot lately, and who will remain nameless *COUMCGH*, has some weird chocolate-chip fetish and vacuums down half-bags of chocolate chips with remarkable ease: he is a blackhole of chocolate chips, a vortex of all things chocolatey, one might say). Point is: what's bothersome about my frequent usage of chocolate chips is the fact that NO PLACE WITHIN A TEN-MINUTE RADIUS OF MY APARTMENT SELLS VEGAN CHOCOLATE CHIPS. My grocery store used to, but then they started busting out the milkfat into them. One of my friends suggested Target, but they apparently only sell Nestle's brand, which also has milkfat in it. I even checked the dollar store to no avail. So everytime I need chocolate chips, I have to drive ALL the way out to Trader Joe's to get them. And granted, they are a kick-ass deal there: $1.69 for a bag of them, and I usually end up buying between 4 or 6 bags so I can last awhile before I need to make another trip. But seriously: how hard is it to make semi-sweet chocolate chips without throwing in milk? *PET PEEVE*

So, as luck will have it, I was, of course, about 1 tablespoon shy of the necessary chocolate chips to make this recipe on Friday. So, knowing that I was also planning on making a batch of VwaV chocolate chip cookies the next day for a friend's party, I sucked it up and drove all the way out to Trader Joe's for chocolate chips. Needless to say, they are now being stored away behind lock and key so that they last more than 5 minutes.

As for the pie: holy mother of all things peanut-buttery. This was decadent decadent stuff. The filling is *beyond* rich and delicious, and the chocolate-covered-pretzel-topping idea amps that up quite a bit as well. Tasty tasty.

Since it's hard enough trying to find vegan chocolate chips, I didn't even waste my time trying to track down vegan chocolate-covered pretzels. Instead, I sort of just crafted my own. However, although they looked pretty, since I didn't separate the pretzels, it made cutting into the pie extremely difficult and messy, so if you go this route, I suggest not just pouring a ring of chocolatey-pretzelly-goodness around your pie.

  • 1 c. semi-sweet chocolate chips

  • 1 12-oz. container firm silken tofu

  • 1/2 c. pure maple syrup

  • 1 c. creamy peanut butter

  • 1 9-inch premade graham cracker crust

  • 1/2 c. chopped chocolate-covered pretzels (or alternately: I used 1/3 c. semi-sweet choc chips and 1/3 c. pretzels instead)


Place chocolate chips in microwave-safe bowl, and microwave on high for 30 seconds. Stir chocolate, and heat 30 seconds more. Repeat heating and stirring until chocolate is just melted. Set aside.

Combine tofu and maple syrup in food processor, and blend 3 minutes, or until smooth. Add peanut butter, and process until smooth. Add melted chocolate, and process once more until smooth.

Pour peanut butter-chocolate mixture into pie crust, smoothing the top; refrigerate 20 minutes.

If you are able to find vegan choc-covered pretzels, then just sprinkle them on top, and serve, or refrigerate until ready to eat.

If you aren't able, then melt 1/3 c. semi-sweet choc chips in the microwave and stir in the pretzels. If you don't mind the messiness of trying to saw through choc-pretzel hardness, just drizzle the pretzelly-chocolate decoratively around the pie. Otherwise treat the pretzels like you would if you were making choc-covered pretzels, allow them to harden before placing them on the pie, and then crumble as you see fit on top. Serve, or refrigerate until ready to eat.

(from the Vegetarian Times)

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Copycat Olive Garden Minestrone Soup

So yeah. What possessed me to seek out this recipe, I'm not quite sure. Other than that I had Olive Garden Minestrone Soup once when I was out with my grandma (only once), and I liked it. Granted, most of Olive Garden's food tastes uber-processed and uber-Americanized, but hell, once in a while, it used to be a guilty pleasure to go there because (as anyone in their right mind knows) their salad dressing rocks out (but unfortunately has eggs AND cheese in it--*sigh*). As a vegan, however, Olive Garden is a no-no, since pretty much all their pasta noodles have eggs in them.

So, although I've only had their minestrone once and thus can't attest to the accuracy of the recipe I'm posting below, I *LIKE* the recipe below (and those who've commented on the recipe on various sites have said it tastes like the real thing). It's a hearty and warm winter soup. It's also a bit salty, so I took out the 1.5 teaspoons of salt the original recipe calls for (the veggie broth and all those canned beans and tomatoes will give you a MORE than generous helping of high blood pressure, thank you very much). Despite the fairly large amount of ingredients, it doesn't take long to make. And it yields a large amount of soup. (I've had enough for generous lunches all week, plus some.)

So yeah: boobs. (Sorry--hadn't said anything naughty thus far, so it felt necessary.) And also: try it out. Worth your while.

  • 3 T. olive oil

  • 1 c. minced white onions (about 1 small onion)

  • 1/2 c. chopped zucchini

  • 1/2 c. frozen cut italian green beans

  • 1/4 c. minced celery (about 1/2 stalk)

  • 4 t. minced garlic (about 4 cloves)

  • 4 c. vegetable broth

  • 2 (15 ounce) cans red kidney beans, drained

  • 2 (15 ounce) cans small white beans or great northern beans, drained

  • 1 (14 ounce) can diced tomatoes

  • 1/2 c. carrots, julienned or shredded

  • 2 T. minced fresh parsley

  • 1.5 t. dried oregano

  • 1/2 t. ground black pepper

  • 1/2 t. dried basil

  • 1/4 t. dried thyme

  • 3 c. hot water

  • 4 c. fresh baby spinach

  • 1/2 c. small shell pasta


Heat three tablespoons of olive oil over medium heat in a large soup pot.

Saute onion, celery, garlic, green beans, and zucchini in the oil for 5 minutes or until onions begin to turn translucent.

Add vegetable broth to pot, plus drained tomatoes, beans, carrot, hot water, and spices.

Bring soup to a boil, then reduce heat and allow to simmer for 20 minutes.

Add spinach leaves and pasta and cook for an additional 20 minutes or until desired consistency.

Makes about eight 1.5 cup servings.

(Recipe from Recipezaar)

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

My Quinoa Pussy is Your Quinoa Pussy!

It's quinoa-y. It's pussy-licious. It's the ppk's quinoa puttanesca. And I done licked that quinoa pussy DRY!

Seriously though: this dish was fairly easy to whip (tee hee) up. And it was relatively tasty (though I must admit: it didn't blow me (tee hee) away). The only problem I had with my quinoa pussy is that it didn't end up quite so... um... well-lubricated with tomatoey juices as the one pictured on the ppk. But that's ok. I think I would've liked a juicier, slicker quinoa pussy, but I'll just have to tackle that again in the near future.


  • 2 to 3 cups cooked quinoa*

  • 1 tablespoon olive oil

  • 3 cloves garlic, chopped

  • 1 teaspoon thyme

  • 1 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes

  • generous pinch each tarragon and marjoram

  • 1/4 cup white wine

  • 1/2 cup kalamata olives, roughly chopped (sliced in half is great)

  • 1/2 cup capers

  • 20 ounce can crushed tomatoes

  • fresh black pepper

Preheat a sauce pot over medium heat. Add the oil and garlic and stir for about a minute, being careful not to burn the garlic. Add herbs, spices and wine; cook for about a minute.

Add olives, capers and tomatoes. Cook for about 15 minutes. Serve either by scooping quinoa into individual bowls and pouring the sauce over it or just mix everything into a bowl together and reserving a little sauce to pour over each serving.

*Mix one cup dry quinoa with 2 cups water, bring to a boil then lower heat and cook uncovered for about 15 minutes, stirring occasionally, until grain is tender and water has been absorbed.

Serves 4

(recipe from the ppk blog)

Monday, January 14, 2008

37th Edition of "The Most Bizarre Google Searches By Which People Stumble Across This Blog"

Due to the fact that I forgot to bring pics for my recipes today, I instead bring you the most recent edition of The Most Bizarre Google Searches By Which People Stumble Across This Blog. Enjoy that meat loaf penis!

  • meat loaf penis

  • vegan vaginas smell better

  • the original shit cup girls

  • red wine red shit

  • salads and stinking shit

  • my brother eat my shit

  • cyborg monocle [I really need to track this person down, seeing as they are clearly my soulmate]

  • shit chocolate sex

  • rice krispie jesus

  • quinoa pussy

  • vegan erotic

  • shit shite pics

  • shits feel so good

  • cool love shits

  • fat ass in a dress

Thursday, January 10, 2008

Penne and Roasted Asparagus with Orange Gremolata

So, what can I say? I liked the way the word gremolata sounds when you say it out loud. Thus, I was forced to try this recipe out this past weekend. GRRRREMOLAAATA. *growr* See, doesn't it sound sexy when somebody up and throws it on you suddenly like that? *purring*

I don't know who decided to call it gremolata, when really it could be called "pasta sauce" or "weird pesto" or something, but I like it.

Anyways, the recipe's simple. Hence it being in the Quick-Fix Vegetarian cookbook. But I must admit: I wasn't as blown away by it as I'd hoped. I heart asparagus. And I like zesty zest. I also like orange-flavored pasta. But for some reason, the dish ended up tasting bitter. And I think the orange zest was too blame. As I am not a master chef, I suspect that maybe I am zesting away too far into the skin of the orange or something, and perhaps THAT'S what produces the bitterness? I don't know. But it was bitter.

Thankfully, upon reheating this week, the bitterness seemed to dissipate a bit. And I decided to spice the dish up with vegan parmesan, which I actually would recommend adding in as part of the recipe. Not as optional, but as an ingredient. Because it really does a nice job of complementing the orange-flavor. And it seemed to kick the ass of some of the bitterness.


Seriously: if nothing else, it's worth trying the damn recipe out so you can purr that sexily into somebody's ear when you set a nice, warm plate of this down in front of them. Just make sure your bosom is slightly cleaved when you lean in to do your whispering. Because that's how we of the Gremolata Posse ROLLLLLLLL, babies.


  • 1 bunch thin asparagus, cut diagonally into 1-1/2 inch pieces

  • 1/4 c. extra-virgin olive oil, plus extra for drizzling

  • 1 lb. penne pasta

  • 3 cloves garlic, finely minced

  • 1/2 c. chopped fresh parsley

  • Grated zest of 2 oranges

  • 3 T. minced scallions

  • Salt and freshly ground pepper

  • Vegan parmesan, to taste


Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Arrange asparagus in a single layer on a lightly oiled baking pan and drizzle with olive oil. Season with salt and pepper. Roast until just tender, about 8 minutes.

While asparagus roasts, cook the penne in salted boiling water until al dente, about 10 minutes.

In a small bowl, combine the garlic, parsley, orange zest and scallions to create the gremolata. Set aside.

Once pasta is cooked, drain and place in a large bowl. Sprinkle the gremolata and 1/4 cup olive oil onto the asparagus, stirring gently to combine. Add the asparagus and gremolata-infused oil to the pasta and toss gently.

Serve immediately, topped with a generous sprinkle of vegan parmesan.

Bon appetit!

(from Quick-Fix Vegetarian, recipe republished in VegNews)

Wednesday, January 09, 2008

Lindy Loo's Vegan Chocolate-Raspberry Drizzle-Cake

Oh, week! How I wish you were filled with less stress and more CAKE!

Made this for my bff's b-day. Got oohs and aahs and requests for the recipe, so it mustn't've been TOO distasteful.

It's featured nekkidly above--I drizzled the chocolate over each slice instead of over the whole cake.

The Cake Itself

  • 3 c. flour, sifted

  • 2 c. sugar

  • 1/2 c. cocoa powder

  • 2 t. baking soda

  • 2 t. cinnamon

  • 2 t. vanilla extract

  • 2 T. distilled white vinegar

  • 10 T. vegetable oil (or 1/2 c. + 2 T.)

  • 2 c. cold water

  • Raspberry preserves, to taste


Preheat the oven to 350°F. Lightly grease two 9-inch cake pans with vegan margarine.

In a medium bowl, sift together the flour, sugar, cocoa powder, and baking soda. Stir in the cinnamon, vanilla, vinegar, oil, and water. Mix until just combined.

Pour into the prepared cake pans and cook for 30 to 35 minutes, or until a knife inserted into the center comes out clean. Let cool completely.

Carefully remove cakes from pans. To layer: Place one cake on a plate. Spread a generous amount of raspberry preserves on the top of it. Place the other cake carefully on top. Either spread another layer of raspberry preserves on top of *this* one as well, or just decorate it prettily with some preserves.

Chocolate Sauce

  • 4 squares dark chocolate or semi-sweet chocolate

  • 1/2 c. soy milk

  • 1 c. sugar

  • 6 T. vegan margarine (or 1/4 c. + 2 T.)

  • 1 t. vanilla


Melt the squares of dark or semi-sweet chocolate with the soy milk. Stir constantly until the chocolate is melted. Stir in sugar and cook, stirring constantly, for 5 minutes. Remove from the heat and stir in vegan margarine and vanilla.


Cut a slice of cake and drizzle chocolate sauce over it.

Monday, January 07, 2008

Monthly "Idjit in the Kitchen" Report

As I've noted in the past, I have what appears to be a monthly tendency to do something completely idiotic in the kitchen or with kitchen-related items.

So today I bring to you January's edition of Lindy Loo stupidity.

I am cheap. I don't care. The only real problem I run into with my cheapness is with garbage bags, since the cheap ones I buy appear to be made of one-ply toilet paper. I don't have a long hike to the garbage though, so it's always been a non-issue.

But last night, I forgot about the heaviness of litter-box garbage, and I convinced myself that the small hole in the side of the bag would maintain its size long enough for me to make it down my stairs and out to the garbage.

Instead, it lasted about 6 stairs down into my hallway where it decided to morph into a gaping maw of a vomitous hole, spewing every single bit of garbage down the stairs while I shouted MOTHERFUCK and stamped my feet really loudly in a sort of tantrum-esque move that really wasn't effective at all.

It wouldn't've been quite so bad had it not been for the fact that the bag was full of at least 4 days-worth of still-slightly-moist coffee grounds (which, had they been dry, wouldn't have been so much of a problem--but moist grounds are IMPOSSIBLE to sweep), old cooked spaghetti noodles, and some sort of mushy food-substance which I don't even remember ever having made (so perhaps noodles and coffee grounds made sweet sweet garbagey love during the week and this was their very disgusting offspring).

Even all that wouldn't have been so bad if it weren't for the fact that I have about 7 pairs of shoes lined up down this very same hallway. And of course all of the most disgusting contents managed to spill directly INTO about 4 pairs of shoes. Think woody asparagus chunks in a nice pair of brown open-toed heels, noodles in a pair of boots, and the noodle-coffee love-child smudged all over a perfectly innocent pair of mary-janes.

Despite all of this, the *crowning* idjit moment of this incident came not with the wrecked shoes, but with a pickled-artichoke jar, half-full of pickled and moldy artichokes, which managed to pop open and spill its entire contents down the stairs and onto my entry-mat. One would *think* that moldy pickled artichokes would just smell like vinegar. But let me tell you: they smell distinctly like moldy pickled artichokes. And even a nice stick of Nag Champa can't strangle that smell.

So heed this warning, my lovely veg readers: If you're gonna skimp on something in the kitchen, let it be the foil, let it be the canola oil, let it be your KISS THE CHEF g-string, but never let it be the garbage bags.


Penne with Caramelized Cauliflower

I've never been a huge fan of cauliflower. And I realized this morning that the only interesting introductory segue into this recipe that I could give involves being scared out of my mind (and out of ever wanting to do anything related to sex--thankfully that didn't last long) by a sex ed picture of a "cauliflower penis" back in the day, SOOOOO I figured that'd probably be a good story to steer clear of since it could only serve to make stomachs turn.

As for this recipe and the cauliflower in it: damn good. Since I'm *NOT* a big fan of cauliflower, I didn't expect to be as impressed as I was. But cauliflower is actually quite good and flavorful when "caramelized." And the sauce, while very simple and basic, does a wonderful job of enhancing the flavor of the cauliflower. All in all, I was impressed, and since it was a very simple recipe (how lazy am I?), I found myself thinking that I'd DEFINITELY make this again. And the red pepper flakes: definitely don't omit. They're a strange and magical addition to this dish.

PS. The word "cauliflower" starts to look really weird if you stare at it for too long.

  • 4 T. olive oil, divided (plus more for greasing baking sheet)

  • 1 small cauliflower (1 lb) cut into 1/4-inch slice

  • 1 c. fresh parsley leaves

  • 1 T. grated lemon zest

  • 1 T. capers, rinsed and drained

  • 1 lb. penne noodles

  • 1/2 t. red pepper flakes

  • vegan parmesan cheez


Place rack in highest oven position, and preheat to 475F. Grease baking sheet with a bit of olive oil. Toss cauliflower with 2 T. olive oil on prepared baking sheet. Season with salt and pepper and spread in single layer. Roast 18 minutes or until cauliflower pieces are browned.

Meanwhile, pulse parsley, lemon zest, and reamining 2 T. oil in food processor until chunky sauce forms. Add capers, and pulse until capers are coarsely chopped.

Cook penne in boiling water according to directions on box. Drain, and reserve 1/2 c. cooking water. Toss pasta with cauliflower, parsley sauce, and red pepper flakes in large serving bowl, adding reserved cooking water if sauce seems too thick. Sprinkle with vegan parm if desired.

(original recipe from Nov./Dec. issue of the VT, p. 38)

Thursday, January 03, 2008

New Question of the Month.

Check it.

Beans and Brats

For some reason there are a lot of mixed feelings surrounding the faux-meat/dairy product. And quite honestly, I don't get it. I understand the motivation behind wanting to avoid overly-processed foods. The sexy purity of nekkid fruits and veggies is attractive to me as well (and is obviously a healthy lifestyle choice). But I don't quite understand angst directed specifically at meat/dairy-analogues and people's arguments that recipes using either/or are "lesser cuisines." Perhaps they aren't gourmet. Perhaps they are the herbivore equivalent of an omnivorous meal of Hamburger Helper, or Taco Bell, or hotdogs. But isn't there a time and place for that? I mean, most of the people I've heard having minor freak-outs about faux-meat/dairy products I'm *CERTAIN* at some point or another have dabbled in SOME sort of unhealthy food. So what's the difference really? I mean, does it make sense to favor a greasy serving of french fries over, say, some vegan faux-meat chili just because the french fries are not "poseurs" (despite being much more unhealthy)?

Granted, perhaps we don't want to make meat/dairy analogues a staple in our kitchen. (Particularly after reading the VegNews article "The Great Soy Debate" in their Jan/Feb 2008 issue.) But it can't be denied that meat/dairy analogues often act as the gentle hand guiding someone over into a veg lifestyle, and what's so bad about that? I mean, how many times have you heard someone say with shock and mild horror: "Wait: so this isn't ground meat in this chili? Wow. I wouldn't've known if you hadn't told me." And if this little *zap* of realization acts as an impetus for someone to conclude that perhaps the veg lifestyle can be just as fulfilling for the palate as an omnivorous diet, if it can convince someone to make the leap, then WHY BEMOAN THE FAUX-MEAT? Granted, guiding someone into a veg lifestyle where analogues are the majority-rules of every meal is not necessarily a good thing. But if meat/dairy analogues are just a foot-in-the-door, a kind mother showing her child that perhaps the veg lifestyle isn't so scary and foreign as one would think (and reminding them of this every once in a while), then what's the crime?

To me, the long and short of this debate ends on this:

If meat/dairy analogues can get someone to stop eating animals, then why knock it?

Really, there's no crime in liking the taste of something. There is a certain element of culinary snobbery to say otherwise. There's no crime in liking the taste of meat either, really. It's no different than, say, liking the taste of a banana. It's just a flavor, something stimulating our tastebuds in a certain sort of way. So if someone can scratch the palate's itch with a product that *doesn't* involve suffering, then why the rolled eyes? Criticizing people for digging on a fake-hotdog is like telling someone "I can't believe you like the taste of pickles/onion rings/potatoes/green beans." Who the hell does that?

Tastes vary so wildly from person to person, and that's what makes things interesting. Taste also changes from day-to-day, from year-to-year, for every individual--it is kind of the slut of the five senses. Just a handful of years ago, I hated the taste of beer, soup, and beans. But now I adore all three and can't get enough of them. Our appreciation of the plethora of flavors in the world is a complex one and never remains static. So, seriously: if you wouldn't criticize someone for preferring raspberry jam over blackberry, then why criticize someone for liking the flavor of faux-meat?

If the unhealthiness of someone's faux-meat-laden diet concerns you, then perhaps gently bring that fact to their attention. But to lambast meat/dairy analogues as though they bear the mark of the devil? Well, that's just silliness.

All that being said and done, is today's recipe gourmet? Not so much. Is it sort of the equivalent of, say, a quick Hamburger Helper meal? Yeah. But it's also really quite tasty. And minus the faux-sausages, ain't nothing bad in it for you. Even *WITH* the faux-sausages, it's not incredibly bad for you--no worse than having a vegan beer-brat for lunch, 'cept that this also includes some veggies as well and some protein in the form of beans. It's also quite kid-friendly, I'd venture to argue.

My friend QBL whipped this up for a work potluck recently, and it was tasty enough that I decided to try whipping up a batch on my own this past weekend. And seriously: good stuff. And quick stuff. And faux-meaty stuff. But I DON'T CARE! Because it tastes good, dammit.

  • One 14-oz package vegan bratwurst sausages (such as tofurky beer brats), sliced into 1/2-inch rounds

  • 3 large leeks, halved, white and light green parts sliced into 1/2-inch pieces (about 4 cups)

  • One 14.5-oz can diced tomatoes

  • One 15-oz can no-salt added cannellini beans, rinsed and drained

  • 3/4 c. water

  • 3 T. molasses


Heat large non-stick pan over medium-high heat and coat with cooking spray. Add bratwurst and cook 3 minutes per side, or until browned. Transfer to plate.

Coat pan with cooking spray again, increase heat to high, and add leeks. Cook 4 minutes, or until leeks are brown around the edges, stirring halfway through. Add tomatoes and liquid, beans, molasses, water, and bratwurst. Season with salt and pepper. Reduce heat to medium, and simmer 5 minutes, or until heated through and liquid is thickened.

(from the Jan/Feb 2008 issue of the VT, p. 42)

Wednesday, January 02, 2008

Weird Vegan NY Eve (Sorta)

This has never happened before, so I feel it is worth blogging about. Sort of. Mostly because I don't have many more dessert-pics to entice you with, so instead I will just entice you with my sweet sweet sexy words. *Licking my lips ever so slowly while I bend over to pick something up in a very short skirt and granny panties*

NY Eve, I went to a party. *Gasps of shock and horror* And at one point during the party, the topic of blogs came up (my one friend rekindled a friendship with the host of the party through her blog and this fact was being discussed), and a boy sitting nearby me suddenly blurted out to me, "Do *YOU* have a blog?

Wait wait wait... Let me intercede with play-acted dialogue, all of which has been paraphrased due to the blurry-eyed demon of alcohol:

BOY: Do *YOU* have a blog?


BOY: Is it a vegan blog?


BOY: Is it Yeah That Vegan Shit?

LINDY LOO: Oh my god, yeah it is!

BOY: I *thought* I recognized you--you're dressed like a zombie in your blog-pic, right?

LINDY LOO: Heh heh. Yeah, that's me.

BOY: I love your blog! I've made a BUNCH of recipes from it... I just recently made the African peanut soup and the sweet potato chili... So good.

LINDY LOO: Awesome! How weird!

BOY: Yeah, I've made a bunch of recipes... I wish I could think of what else... I read your blog all the time though. Your anatomically correct snowmen were *awesome*. Seriously: you are the best thing ever to happen to the human race. They should make you president and then ruler of the world and then create for you an army of robots and then make everyone vegan out of reverence to you for being the awesomest thing ever. Ever ever. EVER EVER EVER. [I suspect somewhere here is where my paraphrasing has gone awry. Again: I blame the alcohol.]

Anyways, it was delightful and weird to be recognized by someone who just happened to stumble across my blog while googling a recipe, so three cheers to that. And a tip of the hat to Kevin for reading and trying out my recipes. =) (And Kevin, if your name is actually Mitch, Jermaine, T-Dog, or Robot, I do apologize (as my memory sucks), but if it actually IS Robot, that is just plain awesome, and I applaud you for having the world's most kick-ass name.)

The second strange occurence on NY Eve occured amidst a game of Taboo. Believe it or not, there is a Taboo card for VEGAN. And believe it or not, yours truly got used as the clue for it, and everyone immediately got it. How vegan-nerdy is that?

And now: back on track. For my X-mas party (and with the help of my delightful friend Bo), I whipped up quite a few more delectable sweets (and then promptly failed to take pics). On the list: chocolate-covered cookie-dough bites (picture below), chocolate-covered pretzel rods (*snicker*: rods) courtesy of Bo's dipping skills (he dips like a MUTHA!), and vegan fudge (recipe below).

For those of you interested in the crafting of the chocolate-covered cookie dough bites, it's really quite simple and self-explanatory. For mine, I whipped up a batch of VwaV chocolate chip cookie dough, rolled the dough into wee balls, froze them for about an hour, and then dipped them in melted semi-sweet chocolate. Bad-ass.

All in all, it was a sugar-coma type night, which probably explains why four of us ended up playing Truth or Dare Jenga for like 5 hours and not realizing how late it was until 5am.

Anyways, this fudge is RIDICULOUSLY simple and got rave reviews from all those who dabbled in it (which ended up mostly being post-party peoples). What makes it quite good is that it's not unbearably and overwhelmingly sweet-tasting, despite being decadent and delish. So try it out. Your mom.


  • 8-oz soy cream cheese

  • 4 c. powdered sugar

  • 1 t. vanilla

  • 1 c. vegan chocolate chips


Place the cream cheese in a food processor and blend until smooth. Add powdered sugar and vanilla.

Melt chocolate chips in microwave or double boiler. Pour into food processor and process until blended.

Pour into 8-inch square pan that has been lined with wax paper. Refrigerate until firm. Pull away wax paper lining, and cut fudge into bite-size pieces. Store in fridge in an airtight container. Makes 6 dozen small squares.

(Recipe from HERE)