harry potter and the deathly {delicious} food of raw.*

Initially I was concerned about enrolling in summer classes. After a year of nonstop productions, theater and class was taking its toll on my social and academic wellness. I was burnt out in all aspects of my mandatory and extracurricular activities, and it was my grades as well as my close relationships that were taking the hit. Getting my two-year community college degree by the time I graduate this next spring is an ambition for sure, but could I really take on even three more classes without much of a hiatus in between?

Fortunately, there are only three weeks left and I've come to enjoy my schedule. Because this is not the school I've gotten used to over the last three years, it doesn't feel like the same old routine that drives us crazy kids, well, crazy, and turns us into those ruthless, stereotypical sadists whose only way to blow off steam is derived from malicious teenage antics.

I don't generally have more than one class a day, though, so I've been able to keep my contact with the non-scholarly world in check. There was that weekend trip to Veneta, of course, as well as some downtime to get back to some good old-fashioned cooking with friends.

And, well, maybe some UNcookin'. The thing I cherish most about the local library is checking out volumes and volumes of cookbooks so that I can browse recipes new and old without having to buy a single one. The system keeps up very well with newly published books, so I was able to request Ani Phyo's newest tome, Ani's Raw Food Desserts fairly soon after its release.

They ain't pretty, they ain't made with patience, and they ain't even made correctly. But the Blueberry Muffins with Lemon Blackberry Glaze sure were tasty (raw foods = TASTING EVERY FLAVOR) and fresh as can be. The blackberries were picked from behind the West Oly co-op and the blueberries from Jo's front yard.


Mirrah, taking a big raw bite.

But moving on from raw goodness, released in... oh, hell, there is absolutely no segue for this. I SAW HARRY POTTER AND THE HALF-BLOOD PRINCE IN IMAX 3-D, MOFOS.

There are precious few things on this god-given earth that I love more than these series of books and movies that I, having literally grown up with them, hold very near and dear to my heart. If the flesh-and-blood Harry Potter told me that the only way that the Horcruxes would be destroyed, Snape would be revealed as good, and Hermione and Ron would finally knock boots was if I ate a hamburger, I'd probably do it. Whereas, given the same demand from Jesus, I would probably tell to fuck off.

Granted, the movies suck. I'm that Trekkie of the Potterverse who sits there, demanding fidelity to the series, clutching my forehead and sputtering, "You're climbing on top of a goddamn roof?! Shame you don't have some sort of magical object like, oh, I don't know - EXTENDABLE EARS or  an INVISIBLITY CLOAK!" And this wasn't the first time or even the second time I've seen it. This was the third time. And since only the first twelve minutes is in MIND-BLOWINGLY NEAT-O 3D, we needed something else to sustain ourselves throughout the rest of the movie. (It helps that Tom Felton and Rupert Grint are pretty.)

Being without an Ollivander wand and Molly Weasley's precise and harried abilities, we produced a batch of Pumpkin Pasties (from Dumbledore's Vegan Army) the Muggle way for some sustenance as well as some piping hot butterbeers (pictured in an ice bath). The empanada-like pasties turned out perfectly (not to mention adorably). The butterbeers - veganized from a recipe relying on cream soda and very nonvegan Werther's candies (anyone know where I can get my hands on or make some vegan ones, incidentally?) - will be tweaked in the near future as they were merely okay.



As a foodie, I have one more burning comment about this movie. I thought the Harry Potter franchise had somewhat of a multi-million dollar budget, so why are they eating Costco cream puffs tossed with Hershey's syrup in margarita glasses and why is every potion and drinkable substance except for (what I can only assume is) Crush soda and Cool-Whip clearly tap water?

*So, the title needs some work; Scholastic and I are coming to an agreement.

the oregon country fair: a recap.

So here's a good story. This will be my 19th post. I know that's shameful; that averages to what, three-quarters of a post a month?! Anyway, the blog has been around for almost one year, one month. The funny part (besides the part where I haven't really bothered or noticed how long the blog's been around) is that June 26th, 2008 was the date of my first post, and June 26th, 2009 is the date of my last post just prior to this one. I hadn't even noticed!

...And by *good* story, I meant lame and sidetracked.

I mostly wanted to check in because I plan on making a solid effort in this blog's upkeep. Kind of like a really, really belated/lazy New Year's resolution. Yeah, kind of like a New Year's resolution - for the blog's New Year next eleven months!

Moving right along without the pretense of a segue, I had been camping a couple weeks ago in Veneta, OR for the 40th annual Oregon Country Fair (which I'd been excitedly updating with if you follow me on "The Twitter"*). The Fair is like... what my summer is for. One glorious, indulgent, free-spirited, worry-free, peaceful, open weekend in July. It's hippy-fest to the nth degree for sure, but nowhere else do you meet the most interesting, open-minded, friendly people. And I do mean "you do meet." You will have fun and be interesting and meet interesting people. I don't care if you were there for three-hours or the whole three-day shebang. That is what happens.

Of course, the ultimate experience is the campsite. Zumwalt, one of just a few campgrounds close by, is by far the best. It is the largest, the only one with a shuttle to the fair itself, a water-truck, and a waterfront for bathing and swimming. And the people? Oh, there will be partying. You will get to know your fellow campers. You will experience Camp Canada at the far end of Zumwalt. Have you seen Canadian hippies party?!

It should be noted that this isn't your typical fair. This is green-living, artsy-craftsy, extravagant-(VEGAN!)-food-vending at its finest. There are countless stages with a myriad of performers from bluegrass bands to flamenco dancers. Parades are, like, every fifteen minutes. The fair itself, after forty years of this, has worked itself into the scenery of the surrounding forest. I can't even imagine what the grounds look like when it's not that second weekend in July.

Besides the plethora of FAIR FOOD I CAN EAT?!, perhaps my favorite fair-going experience is the - and I'm going to go real greener on you - the freeness of the body. Body consciousness is quite forced out of you at OCF as is evidenced by the abundance of bare-breasted women, young and old, small and large, with elaborate chest paintings and the flowery, glimmering babies painted on the stomachs of pregnant women.

Until next year, OCF. Until next year.**


A particularly sentimental map of OCF.


Emma's (*my* Canadian) patriotic rub-on tattoo. It's pretty much just like a passport.



*Can I just point out that I am FULL-BLOWN TWITTER ADDICTED. CAN WE STAGE AN INTERVENTION OR SOMETHING?! I've been sucked in to the self-indulgence that is "tweeting," so follow me if you so desire.
**As the people, vendors, and crafts are so fascinating and lovely, I ultimately failed at photographing any of the many, many vegan delicacies I purchased. My apologies.

the accomplishments of summer.

So far, they have included the following: a) Catching up on the last season of Scrubs. b) Eating a ton of fresh strawberries. c) Making the money I spent on Netflix for the past six months worthwhile, and d) loading up on the newest and most bitchin' innovations in vegan cookbook publishing.

Namely, the titles I was most eager to get a hold of are Babycakes, The Vegan Scoop, and Vegan Brunch.

I don't shop a lot. I am utter clothes-whoring, fashion junkie, this I will admit. But I have the most difficult time parting with my dollar. I drive all my shopping companions crazy because on the rare occasion that I am prepared to fork over my debit card, I spend at least half an hour in front of the dressing room mirror trying on even one article and double that time carrying it around the store. And even then it's no guarantee I won't return it within the week.

And then there's food. And cookbooks. And suddenly the money I was so stingy with at the Nordstrom clearance rack: gone. (Starting sentences with a conjunction pissing you off yet?)

I haven't bothered with posting my largely noninteresting meals from the past couple months. It's been a lot of leftovers, frozen dinners, and cereals. There's been the occassional baked good and tasty meal out, but truth be told squeezing in time to photograph has just not been a priority. So why the hell would I post without some remotely interesting visual? I'm no tease.

But it's summer, bitch - BUST OUT THEM WHISKS AND PYREX BOWLS, MOTHERFUCKER.

Vegan Brunch was the last book I bought, purchased on publishing day. (I wait for no one.) So far, I have not taken advantage of its luscious promises of Pain au Chocolat and Cherry Sage Sausages, but I did manage the East Coast Coffeecake for Father's Day with a jam swirl.


Eh, suckass lighting. Messy plating. But you see that crumb? Luscious, fatty, sugary, lumpy (in the most succulent way) crumb? A-MAZING. My dad did not exactly request a healthy or even vegetarian-friendly Father's Day dinner, so I took care of breakfast by replacing the AP flour with whole wheat pastry and the cake's oil with applesauce. It was still a great cake, but a little chewy and lacked the crumbly quality that I like my coffeecakes to fall apart into as I cut them. The cake didn't store well, either - though the melty, soft topping combined with the room-temperature jam swirl was just as enjoyable the next day.


I leave you now with a chocolate-swirl cheesecake and an excellent Scrubs clip. Not much to say about it - it was cheesecake. Fatty and fucking tasty. Rather pretty too aside from some very lazy photography, I would add. (The cheesecake, not Scrubs.)



I intend to divulge more adventures of flipping through my new friends cookbooks very, very soon. Anyone else have reviews (more detailed and substantial than mine, I hope) about new cookbooks, those or others?

houserat vegan singlehandedly supports movie rental industry.

So maybe it's a little disappointing that after one post on the new blog, I have nil to say on the recent products of my kitchen, even though the only (and I mean only) productive outcome of my summer thus far has been devouring my "Instant Queue" on Netflix... and baking a lot of treats (both sweet and savory) for my sole consumption.

Eh. Whatever.

The truth is, personal and home issues have put me in a place right now that hasn't warranted much motivation for social or "productive" activity. One might argue that the only stated purpose of this blog is to share the goings-on of and around my kitchen. But I've got you on that one: the cooking and baking (and eating) is the easy part. The blogging is where it, for this purpose, becomes productive.

I can, however, recommend some television shows and stand-up comedy that have very little to do with the vegan lifestyle. Other than I'm vegan, and I've recently styled my life around watching these programs.

Weeds: I sat through the entire series in one weekend, and it is hands down the best thing I've discovered via all of this. Suburban widowed-mom deals against the backdrop of a catty and stereotypically status-driven surbuban neighborhood in California while still managing to raise two sons, house her brother-in-law, and keep business under the radar (even if the neighborhood is her customer base). It's as good, dramatic, ironic, and reassuringly hilarious as it sounds. And if it didn't sound like all of those things... it is. My few gripes are that the script seems to suggest that Mary Louise Parker's Nancy Botwin can drag herself out of most any pickle by her sheer sex appeal (and even when it's not obviously about how hot she is, you most always can trace the outcome back to, oh yeah, how hot she is), and throughout the series Nancy's concern with how her lifestyle directly impacts her children lessens more and more. But one could argue that that's not entirely unrealistic for all intents and purposes.

Wonder Falls: Produced by the brains behind Dead Like Me, the one-season, 14-episode series (starring Canadian favorite Caroline Dhavernas as well as Tracie Thoms (Rent)) is an entertaining and less-than-obivous take on the Joan of Arc story. This variation is quirky and animated, following Jaye Taylor, a cynical-but-endearing, "over educated and under employed" employee of the Niagra Falls gift shop Wonderfalls. Beginning with a smooshed-face wax lion, little souveniers and cartoonish animal images of all kinds begin communicating with Jaye in order to fulfill some grand master plan that's never clear until the end of an episode. The exposition is simple and mostly unchanging, but the plotlines hold interest. Dhavernas' demeanor as Jaye often comes off a little cartoonish herself, but she maintains watchability. Tracie Thoms' character is the easiest to watch, and Jaye's siblings Sharon and Aaron are likeable supporting characters. The love interest (a bartender at the bar Jaye frequents and Tracie Thoms' character works), played by Tyron Leitso, is sincere but a little flat. The tension between he and Jaye is obvious, and not in an endearing way. Essentially, I recommend the series as a rental. It's fun, dark-humored, and moralistic in it's Joan of Arc allusion but not in a religious, familial, bullshit way.

An Evening with Kevin Smith 2: Evening Harder: Just fucking watch this if you've seen Clerks, Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back, Dogma, Chasing Amy, Mallrats, the first An Evening With Kevin Smith... even fucking Jersey Girl or those episodes of Degrassi that Kevin Smith guest starred on. Or just know who Kevin Smith is in general. It isn't "stand-up comedy" but a Q&A with Smith in Toronto and in London that often ends up brilliant, like the hilarious, irrelevant conversation that his movies' dialogue plays off of. It's humor is comforting to say the least. Like, in a "At least people still say shit like this to an audience." sort of way.

Daniel Tosh: Completely Serious: I've seen this special quite a few times on Comedy Central, I'm sure. If you wait long enough you can probably it catch it rather than actually renting it or clicking "Play" on its Netflix page. And still, his frat-like, spot-on observations and clever humor are just as brilliant. As Tosh points out halfway in, jokes often open funny and spiral on and on till its end punch and a handful of audience members have held on long enough to catch it. Definitely tune in if unfamiliar with his offensive and sarcastic performance, as apparantly the material hasn't varied much from other recordings. Worth the Comedy Central channel-lurking, at the very least.

Super High Me: Comedian Doug Benson does the opposite for pot than what Morgan Spurlock did for McDonald's in his playoff documentary. The film, which started out as a joke in Benson's act, follows him on the road during a comedy tour, introducing the beginning of the concept, a 30-day sobriety, and ending with 30 days of being stoned in order to study the effects between a variety of tests (including lung capacity, memory, and even psychic ability). But it's okay: he's got a California medical marijuana license. Not that such licenses are recognized by the United States Federal Government, due to a convuluted system of laws between the federal government and the states that recognize patients' use of marijuana. The difference is explained briefly and touched upon when the "dispensary" that backdrops the documentary is ransacked by the DEA. It's interesting and informative in its representation of the recreational drug unfamiliar to most of the general public, but its comedic aspect shouldn't disappoint people familiar with Benson either (or, you know, stoner humor in general).

Look at me; blogging like I know shit about reviewing. Ain't it cute. Don't be fooled or disappointed with my former claims; I've watched far more television than this.