"Sometimes we call it Magic Cheese," says the six-year-old as we head to the table.
We don't, but I love it, and silently decide that yes, we do call it that.
The three-year-old loudly protests that it's Maxie's Cheese and he's Maxie the Strong Man, remember?
You probably know it as that old vegan stand-by: the New Farm Mac n' Cheese.
| | |
| | |
We arrived just before dawn and wandered along the cobblestone streets of the old quarter, stumbling upon churches and coffee and murals and narrow arcades and grand piazzas. As the day got hot, we stopped in the blue-tarp shade of a quesadilla vendor at an open air market. She was patting out masa next to a big burnished hot iron grill surrounded by dozens of quesadilla fillings. I remember squash blossoms and mushrooms and rajas and potatoes and some sort of greens, but there were more. We pulled up stools and worked our way through every possible vegetable combination.
| | |
| | |
Do you get potluck anxiety like I get potluck anxiety? It's never a simple contribution of food. It's a vegan ambassador. It's got to represent for the people. It should astound with how delicious and satisfying it is. "This is vegan!? I think I'll reconsider all my previous assumptions!" it might, for example, elicit. (Cake is good.)
| | |
| | |
YVM: Is that the best tofu ever?
6yo: Mmmmyes. (chewing) Kind of sweet. (chewing and head-cocked contemplating) Kind of salty. (chewing and nodding) Best tofu ever.
3yo: And the noodles are really good.
Mandoline Grill (outside of LACMA last Sunday)
| | |
| | |
Your Vegan Mom: What should we say about our field trip to Viva La Vegan?
The Three-Year-Old: They have donuts! They have vegan donuts!
YVM: That’s important. But I thought maybe you would say, it was a really long drive, or it was totally worth it because it was so awesome. Or that Mommy let you eat total junk for dinner. Or we got to hang out with our friend. What else?
| | |
| | |
