Law & Order

"Mom? You know how Dad has that problem with taking food off of my plate without asking?"

"Yes, I do."

"No matter how many times I say I'd like him to ask first and that it's a rule?"

"Yep."

"I figured out how to fix it. I'm getting a food restraining order."

Food Stuff

"Dad? I think I have more than one stomach."

"Like a cow?"

"How many do they have?"

"Four. Actually it's one stomach with four compartments."

"Well, I have like eight stomachs. One for pancakes, one for all desserts, one for turkey sandwiches, one for ice cream, oh and a fruit one, and one for popsicles. How many is that? Six? Okay, I guess there's a stomach for some vegetables. Oh! And one for avocado. Is that eight? I think I might have more than eight..."

Mmmm

"So, Mom! Come look at the cake me and dad made you! It has dark chocolate, peanut butter pretzels, peanut butter, and coconut oil, and some other stuff but those are the main things. We followed a real recipe, kind of. We smushed everything up and then pushed it really hard into the pan and then we put it in the freezer. When Dad pulled it out to move it into the fridge, he dropped it so it broke all up, but you'll still eat it, right? It tastes really good, I had a tiny chunk off the top. Just a tiny one. Or a couple."

The Raw Deal

A few weeks ago I went for lunch with a friend to a raw vegan restaurant in Santa Monica called Euphoria Loves Rawvolution. The Rawvolution logo is a drawing of a naked hippy couple kissing. They offer hemp seed tabouli and there is a kelp noodle section on the menu. This would usually be more than enough to have me run screaming to the nearest In N Out, but instead I paused and noticed something about the folks in this place. They all looked amazing. They were healthy with great skin and clear eyes. I don't think it was just because I was on the west side. I wanted what they had.

Digestive problems have been my normal for many years. I have tried cutting out gluten, limiting lactose, eliminating food coloring and additives. I have juice cleansed and Master Cleansed, all in search of a day free of stomachaches and other “issues.” Ahem. I just wanted to feel better. 

The next day I committed to one week of raw vegan eating, but first I had to figure out what that meant. 

According to Wikipedia, Raw Veganism excludes all food and products of animal origin, as well as food cooked at a temperature above 118 °F). A raw vegan diet includes raw vegetables and fruits, nuts and nut pastes, grain and legume sprouts, seeds, plant oils, sea vegetables, herbs, and fresh juices. There are many different versions of the diet, including fruitarianism, juicearianism, and sproutarianism. The definition of a raw vegan diet can be loosened to include vegan diets with at least 75–80% raw foods. I went to the nearest Whole Foods and wandered around. 

When Eleanor Roosevelt said,” You must do the thing you think you cannot do,” I believe she was referring to eating “cashew cheese.” There are a lot of raw vegan recipes on the internet that are quite involved and sound sort of terrible. I decided to go slow. The first few days I was eating a lot of raw fruits and vegetables and throwing in some kimchee and gallons of guacamole. I was trying to find my way. I was feeling pretty good, never hungry, and drinking less coffee. (Oh yeah, I decided to keep my non-raw coffee habit because coffee is my co-pilot.) I had shed a few pounds and even when eating in a restaurant I was able to find something that wasn’t off limits. 

I committed to another week. 

The first few days of  week two, I got the stomach flu. At first I thought it might be a reaction to my new “lifestyle,” but poor Bob had it too and he was eating his usual fare. I ate a lot of bananas. I ate coconut oil. I made it through. 

At an LA vegan place, Café Gratitude, I ordered a raw wrap called, “I Am Happy.” I was self-conscious when I ordered so I just asked for “The Happy,” like that somehow made it okay.  When my to-go order was ready I was asked the question of the day, “What are you exploring?” I was exploring why I couldn’t order food at this place that didn’t sound like a bumper sticker on the back of a VW van.  The wrap was good though, probably because I hadn’t eaten anything that resembled a real sandwich in a few weeks. 

I am now in my third week of raw. My digestive issues are gone. I feel pretty good.  I am learning how to do this without handing over my wallet at Whole Foods. I do think this way of eating would be more palatable to the masses without the 1969 zen-style theme running through everything. But what do I know? It’s working for me. So far. 

Namaste. (Just kidding. Sort of.)

Blue Plate Special

"Mom? Since you don't feel good and Dad's in Japan, can I have cold cereal for dinner?"

"Yes."

"Wait, what?"

"You can have cold cereal for dinner."

"Wow. Okay. So, can I have this package of Starbursts for dinner too?"

La Comida

"Bob, what kind of burrito do you want?"

"Cheese."

"Bean and cheese?"

"No, just cheese."

"With rice?"

"Just a melted cheese burrito."

"A melted cheese burrito is just a quesadilla."

"Okay, I'll have one of those too."

Almost

"Mom, can I open the organic box?"

"Sure."

"Is this kale?"

"Yep."

"What's this thing?"

"That's fennel. Dad puts it in that really good potato leek soup he makes."

"These are just oranges."

"Actually those are called blood oranges. The inside of them is red."

"Mom? This is almost like learning."

The Candy Man Can

 
"Mom, I want to live in a whole house made out of candy, that way I can have candy whenever I want."

"But if you ate your whole house, you wouldn't have anywhere to live."

"It would be fine. It's magic, Mom. You know? Magic?"

I'll Just Eat My Own Lunch

"What is that, Mom?"

"It's salmon. Would you like to try a bite?"

"Okay."

"So, what do you think of it?"

"You know what tastes better than salmon? Water."

"Noted."

Goodness

photo from here

"Mom? Are there one-hundred-two-thousand-two-thousand-billion-bajillion-one-million-four vitamins in milk?"

"Not quite that many."

"More like twenty?"

"Yeah."

"It's really good."

The Thursday Ritual

On Thursday evenings, you will frequently find The Family Rosenberg at the Farmer’s Market in our neighborhood. Apparently, there are people who go there to purchase farm fresh organic fruits and vegetables. We want to be those people. We’ve tried to be those people. Sometimes we are those people, but most of the time we are these people:

We circle the block around the library four times looking for a parking space. After the first circle, Bob starts whining helpfully, “We are never going to find a parking space. There are no spaces. How are we going to find one?” After enjoying this pep talk for five or ten minutes, we find a space.

After parking too close to the corner and partially in the red, we head towards the market entrance. Bob requests to play for “just 100 minutes” under the giant tree next to the library. I leave the guys behind and move on to the market.

I rush past the stalls of produce, orchids, and organic honey to take my place in line for Salvadorian pupusas. If you’re not familiar, pupusas are like a quesadilla if the edges of the incredibly fluffy tortillas were sealed up and melty cheese and vegetables or beans or meat was trapped inside a puffy, delicious Salvadorian cloud. These are made with masa flour and are gluten-free. I live for them and our weekly date.

The line to place an order is usually about 20 people deep. I will stand in line for an average of 25 minutes while silently chanting to myself my pupusa mantra, “Don’t run out of shrimp. Don’t run out of shrimp.” Once my order is placed, I am handed a ticket with my number, "54" on it. Then from behind the grill, the tiny lady with the Spanish accent and the shower cap will belt out, "Number eight guys, number eight? Anybody have number eight?" Sometimes they run out of shrimp.

Now the guys have moved on to Bob’s second stop, what he refers to as, “music practice with one of my bands.” Eddie Dread is a fellow who plays the drum while singing reggae-ish versions of “Wheels on the Bus” and other pre-school favorites. He lays out rhythm instruments for the kids to play along with. Bob enjoys the cymbals and putting cash in Eddie Dread’s tip basket.


As I wait for our order, I gaze across the lawn at the home of my salty/sweet kryptonite, the Kettle Korn stand. After an internal struggle, I will often resolve to pass it up, knowing that if I bring the bed pillow sized bag home, I will eat it single-handedly, before a Tivo’d episode of How I Met Your Mother makes it to the second commercial break. I will get a stomach ache and I will think it is worth it.

Around this time, Bob picks out the largest cookie offered by the Mexican bakery guy, asks to carry it, and then he “tries it out” by attempting to eat it through the plastic wrap.

Bob and Jeff watch the commuter trains come in and out of the nearby station. Bob demands a ride to Sierra Madre, which he doesn't get. Bob gets upset. Then, they come looking for me.

The guy next to me in line talks about how these same people sell the pupusas at a Farmer’s Market in Eagle Rock and the line is way shorter there. (Thanks.) Then The Joy Killer will say, “These things are great every once in a while but it’s not like you could have them every week with all of the lard they cook them in.” Yeah. He’s right. What kind of idiot would do that?

I decide to get the kettle korn too.

Vegetable Landing: A One Act

There is a hold over from Bob’s baby days where on occasion he will still request/demand (tomato/tomahto) to have his vegetables “airplaned” into his mouth with daddy’s assistance. I am all for anything that gets the brussel sprouts in.

VEGETABLE LANDING

(6:45 PM. Dinner time.)

BOB

Into the airport!

JEFF

(Flying a spoonful of peas towards Bob’s open mouth.)
Alpha bravo foxtrot six five two niner. Bob Airport Tower, please reply.

BOB

Into the airport! In! In!

JEFF

We are encountering some turbulence. Are we cleared for landing at Bob Airport?

BOB

In now! Touch down airplane!

(The pea loaded spoon “lands” in Bob’s mouth. Bob chews. Stops abruptly.)

JEFF

Everything alright, Buddy?

BOB

The airport burped.


END SCENE