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Back a couple of years ago when I still had time to watch television and thought there was nothing funnier than Ellen DeGeneres (but let’s be clear:  I still think she’s pretty funny), I saw a vegan chef on her show making rice paper rolls.  I remember thinking a couple of things when I saw that particular show:  1) Vegan.  Dude.  That seems so “out there” and nearly impossible, and 2) remind me to neverever buy rice paper and try to deal with that.  The emphasis on the show was that it’s not the easiest thing in the world to handle.  I was right about the latter, but there IS a learning curve that’s sort-of-kind-of easy to master, and it’s not so bad.  But I’ll get to that.

I’ve been looking at a lot of websites with vegan food and such, and I keep coming across these rice paper rolls.  Every time I see a recipe, I think something like “Wow, those look pretty, but I’ll never be able to handle rice paper.  I can barely walk on a smooth surface without tripping…”

But it finally got to me, and the nice vegan cookbook Stephan gave me had a nice recipe, so I decided that as long as the kids are not here, and I can do this distraction free, I would neglect all housework and other serious obligations for the morning and try them out (and hope that no one comes to visit me for at least a couple of hours because the house is a mess and the kitchen is a disaster and that I didn’t forget any appointments).

So here we go.  First the filling.  Tofu gets marinated in just a little soy-sauce and stuck in the oven for a while.  Glass noodles get soaked.

Then you get a giant bowl and put a lot of fresh, wonderful things in it.  2 cups of shredded lettuce (I used romaine), a cucumber all cut up, a big, shredded carrot, a red bell pepper all stripped up, a ton of fresh cilantro (coriander) (yeah baby!!!), basil, and mint.  I really wanted to put some peanuts or cashews in there, but I know I will be on the beach in a bikini in a few weeks, and since I don’t want to scare the locals, am watching my fat intake.

All of that gets mixed with the noodles and the tofu.  Not in the recipe, but I added a little bit of sweet chilli sauce, some soy sauce, and some lime juice to pep it all up.

And then you start screwing around with the rice paper wraps.  And that’s a total bitch.

There is a definite learning curve to this, and there is a REASON why no recipes say exactly HOW LONG you have to soak them (”a few moments”–what the heck is that!?).  You have to go on feeling, and I ruined too many of them in the beginning, unfortunately.  I think it depends on the brand, how hot your water is, and if the moon is in line with the seventh sun.

Once I figured it out, it took less then 10 SECONDS soaking for each one.  They are pliable, but still make a waka-waka noise when you shake them a bit.  You should think that they are still a little too dry before you start filling them.  Whatever.  Figure it out for yourself.  Like any of you are actually going to make this.  I should also mention that the recipe makes way more than the pictures show, but I picked out some somewhat uniform ones to photograph.

If we had company, I’d probably tie each one up with a long strip of chives.  I’ll have a few of them for lunch as is with a little dipping sauce–I’m thinking soy sauce mixed with a little ginger and garlic.  Maybe I should eat them AFTER I’m done interacting with other people for the day.   But I think Ernie looks excited.  

Noah, it seems, has stopped coming over to our bed at 5 AM to cuddle with his mama.  I mean, it’s okay.  Every mom wants her kid to sleep through the night, in his own bed, nightmare-free, all peaceful and wonderful and all that, but I do miss the fuzzy melon head on my shoulder and the little, warm feet on my thighs, and the unsolicited kiss I get before he falls back to sleep for that one hour I get to spend cuddling with him before I have to drag my butt out of bed and start fixing snacks for school and finding gym clothes and stuff.    Oh, ew.  For a second there, I sounded like a pedophile.

So now that he’s in his own bed, the first thing he does when he gets up in the morning is ask, “Wo ist die Annabelle!?”  (Where’s Annabelle?).  She’s almost like his security blanket.  On the mornings where I let him get up a little later and then have to tell him that she’s already gone to school are more difficult than the mornings where I tell him that she’s still asleep in her bed, or already downstairs, having breakfast.

But one day last week was different.  Our sweet, little fuzzy-melon head woke up in his bed, and he sat straight up, fully awake.  And then he started to yodel.  Yeah.  Yodel.

“Yo diri dee-di yo diri dei…” on and on.  When I went into his room and gave him a look like “Whatchoo talkin’ ’bout, Willis.”  He just laughed and continued yodeling.  *YODELING.*

He got it from the Kindergarten and a song that they performed at our May Pole festival.  Well–HE didn’t perform it.  He (was the only kid who) went on strike and refused do dance, monkey, dance.   But what in the world made the little guy think that he would give us all a yodeling performance instead of ask for his sister again is beyond me.  What is happening to our children?

So I would like a time machine.  I want to go back 20 years and tell my high school self that I’m going to end up living in a house with a tiny-eensie-weensie yard in small-town Bavaria with a German dude, give birth to two beautiful children, one of which is blonde-haired and blue-eyed and wakes up in the morning….yodeling.

And then just laugh and laugh at my high school self freaking all out.

I think I might end up *gaining* weight as a vegan.  I’m not kidding.  I’ve already got three vegan cookbooks, and there is SO much stuff in them that is so easy to make.  And since I can eat the recipes without any reservations (except for the guilt of knowing that more calories means more ME if I don’t get my exercise back), I keep thinking, “Give me more!”  I’m going to end up eating more than I ever have and turn into the fattest vegan in the history of man.

First off, I bought myself Veganomicon. This seems to be the vegan bible–at least in the States.  It covers the basics of vegan ingredients and how to cook them, and is packed full of recipes.  I’ve already tried their Hot-Sauce Glazed Tempeh, the sauce for which was amazing.  Stephan even said he might use the sauce as a marinade for his dead animals.  It’s got white wine, hot sauce (I used Ajwar), olive oil, soy sauce, fresh lemon juice, garlic, and spices in it.  SO good.  And the nice thing about marinading vegan things in a sauce is that you CAN KEEP THE MARINADE for dipping or for more sauce or whatever without getting Salmonella.

For our anniversary, Stephan gave me The 30 Minute Vegan’s Taste of the East. These recipes really are quick and easy.  On Monday I made their Tofu Tikka Masala.  It was fast and we already have *everything* on hand for the recipe, so no extra shopping.  There’s a picture of it here with the cilantro (coriander) down the middle.  We’re growing herbs up on the roof terrace, including a LOT of coriander, because we love it, and it’s not easy to get around here.  I dumped a bunch more on the dish after I took the picture.  I saved a bunch of it and ate it the next day, and it was even more delicious after it sat overnight, and I’m glad nobody was here to see it flying into my face like legos into a vacuum cleaner.   I’m not saying I’ve ever sucked my kids’ legos into the vacuum cleaner by accident, but I’m also not not sayin’ it.

Then I got Björn Moschinko’s Vegan Kochen für alle.  Haven’t made anything with it yet, but it’s one of those beautiful cookbooks with big, color pictures for every recipe taken with a wide aperture, and all the recipes look great.  I have this one because one of the neighbors went to a public library and saw it and thought of me and brought it back.  How sweet is that?  Her timing was perfect.  After I looked at the library book for a while, I just went ahead and ordered it on Amazon for myself.

Then there’s the Internet.  Anything you could possibly want is a google away.  These are oatmeal-cranberry cookies. Tasted like Christmas.

Then there’s just own invention.  The other day, we grilled pizzas for the kids, and I decided to load the dough up and make a Bruschetta for myself instead (also pictured).  On there are tomatoes–both fresh and sun-dried, LOADS of sliced garlic and fresh basil, olive oil, onions, black olives, and big, green olives stuffed with almonds.  I don’t want to brag (the first thing someone does after saying “I don’t want to brag” is brag), but it was soooooo good.  And again, just thrown together from stuff we have around anyway.

So I’m well on my way to breaking the stereotypes that vegans are skinny, anemic, salad-eating hippies who don’t take showers.  I’ll be fat, strong, and clean.  And totally happy.  Well, maybe not about the fat part, but thank goodness for running.  And portion control.  Naaa…just the running.

After three weeks of not running (unless you count the mile I got in on my birthday), I was feeling like enough is enough and timidly went out yesterday on a 5-miler (8k).  It was completely free of pain, and even today I had no ill repercussions and went out for another, smaller run, about 5k (3 miles).  But before my run yesterday, I had to ride into the city on two different subways, and holy guacamole, was that bad.  If  the train is crowded, I can’t stick my rear off to one side, and so I just have to sit all normally and everything.  Then when I’d get up, it was like the 2 broken chunks of the bone were falling back apart or grinding on each other or something.  Not as bad as having a bone drilled into when anesthesia hasn’t worked, but still not NOT sucking.  When that orthopedist guy said not to sit on my butt for six weeks, he meant it.  Enough about my butt.

So anyway, running brings no pain, but I can feel that I haven’t been at it for three weeks and that I’ve lost some fitness, which is rather frustrating.  I’m longing for those really nice summer runs, though.  The kind where you can get out while the rest of the neighborhood is still in bed, see a nice sunrise and start the day just right.  Or the really lovely evening runs when there is a special light in the air and you come home with a layer of shiny sweat on every bit of your body, and you can plop down in front of a fan and really feel like you’ve done something.  It’s just the perfect kind of “tired.”  So I’m hoping it will “only” take about a month or so to build back a nice base so I can start training for October.

Stephan signed us up for the London marathon lottery, but let’s face it, that’s not happening.  I think there were 5 places awarded to Germany last year or something.  So I’ve got my eye on something BIG for next spring instead.  Something *ultra* big, if you know what I mean.  Still a little undecided on whether to take part or not, but it would be really nice.

But for now, I’ll just keep putting in the small runs.  The weather’s been lovely lately and the rapeseed is in bloom (canola oil, bio fuel), so running along the fields is pleasant, and so far, no deer have jumped out right in front of me again.

Mom was here for two weeks for Annabelle’s birthday!  I don’t really like to say a whole lot on the interwebs when she’s here about her being here, because I’m not comfortable advertising that my dad is home alone.  But she was here and everyone had a good time, especially the kids who get nothing but attention (and presents) from her the entire time.  It’s hard when she leaves, but I’m happy for her that she gets to have ice cubes in her drinks now.  :)  Love you, Mom!

I’ve been purposefully eating vegan now for about a week, and so far, it’s totally fine.  But I am learning very quickly that it doesn’t seem to be totally fine for some other people, and that it seems like I’ll have to do a lot of defending of my choice to not put animal products into my chard hole.  This seems almost insane to me.  Isn’t it *my* decision to eat–or not eat–whatever I want?  I don’t sit there and make anyone else defend themselves for eating a steak.  I could, but I don’t.  It’s going to be difficult at dinner parties, but I can always bring stuff.

Stephan is, as always, very supportive.

I could go on and on about this right now.  In fact, I almost feel like I have to defend myself right here in this blog post. But I won’t.  So pass the friggin’ quinoa.

Oh, and before you ask, I don’t miss this at all, and I’m not mad at Tim for dedicating a whole song to it:

It occurred to me that those of you who are not on fatbook have not had the chance to feel sorry for me yet–wait–I mean LAUGH at me yet.  And since everyone could use a little entertainment in their lives, here ya go:

After a very difficult couple of weeks, I was excited to finally have Annabelle’s birthday party here to celebrate her life with her.  But then, in the process, I had to go and break a bone in my butt.  Slid down a slide, landed the wrong way, blahblahblah.

Went to the nicest orthopedist in the world (right here in MS), had my ass x-rayed, and sure enough, broken butt.  Not my tail bone, but a couple of bones higher.  A little bit south of where the crack starts.  TMI?

You can’t put a cast on your butt.  But I got a donut pillow that does absolutely nothing, some pain killers that I’m not sure I want to take, and instructions not to sit directly on my butt for 6 weeks.  It hurts to do…pretty much…everything.  Oh, and I’m not to do my triathlon or run my marathon in Salzburg on May 6.

Yeah.  That last bit is the most devastating.  I keep making jokes about everything, but not being able to run is torture.  I was really looking forward to this marathon, and was training well.  I ran 18 miles (29K)  a couple weeks ago, and just had one more long run to get in this weekend before the taper.  It just bums me way the heck out (pardon the pun).  Seriously, though.  It sucks.  In fact, it sucks ass.  HAHAHA, I kill me.

Now it hurts to walk just over to Kindergarten and back.  My best mode of transportation is to stand up on my bike…the pedaling is not that bad, and there are periods when the bike can just coast and I can just stand there.  Getting into the car yesterday was excruciating.

So that’s that with that.  At least my mom is here!!! 

Anyway…bummer (hahaha)!
What a pain in the ass (BWWAHAHAHA)!
I’ve really busted my butt (HHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!)

The Sugarbear turned seven!  There were rainbow cupcakes for her first-grade class (each color had to go in indivudually for 28 cupcakes–that wasn’t a PAIN or anything–but I think it was worth it).  I also made her two chocolate-strawberry tortes (Annabelle’s request).  There were 14 kids at an indoor playpark!  There was a beautiful, hand-made blanket from Aunt Beth, and the next day, there was Grandma!  And then presents from Grandma!  All in all a good time, and I think Annabelle really enjoyed being all hot-snot SEVEN!

Happy Good Friday, everyone!  No–wait, I take that back.  Not happy.   We are not allowed to be happy.  The catholics, who are of course the supreme rulers of morality (and kiddy-fiddling, ironically), have deemed that we are not even allowed to dance on this day.   Tables are put on dance floors, and we live in the movie Footloose.  People CAN buy alcoholic beverages, however, at establishments where dancing is normally also allowed.  So you can be drunk but not happy.  I suppose the bouncers have to ask upon entry if you are a mean drunk or a happy drunk.  If you are a happy drunk, you must go home.  If anyone smiles, a bolt of lightening shoots from the sky.  Anyway, in an effort to respect the sadness, I will restrict this blog entry to purely unjoyous things:  problems.

Did you know that not all cheese is vegetarian?  This is a *huge* problem, especially if you are an ovo-lacto vegetarian, love cheese, but are morally opposed to dead animal bits going into your body.  There is something in some cheeses called “rennet.”  According to The Book of Knowledge, “Natural calf rennet is extracted from the inner mucosa of the fourth stomach chamber (the abomasum) of slaughtered young, unweaned calves. These stomachs are a by-product of veal production.”  Is anyone else ready to puke? Not all cheeses involve slaughtering baby animals, though.  Some of them contain a lab-made version of rennet.  Sometimes cheese packaging will tell you what kind is in it, but not all packaging has this information.  Recently I had a craving for camembert, bought some, then found out I had to give it away.  Then I had a craving for goat cheese, bought some, and gave that away as well.  It’s always helpful to read the label IN THE STORE before you do your purchase.  On the other hand, neighbors begin to adore you for all the free cheese.

Eggs are also problematic.  Most people have enough compassion to buy free range eggs, so that’s good.  Or is it?  There are two kinds of chickens–ones that lay eggs, and ones that are slaughtered so that someone can stick it into their face in the form of a burrito or stir-fry or whatever.  So if you end up being a DUDE chicken, born as a result of breeding for egg-layers, you’re just screwed.  You’re either gassed or slaughtered or thrown alive into trash bags, along with your other male cousins.  So even buying free range eggs involves supporting an industry where animals are killed.  Have a nice omelet.

Yes, I am considering going vegan.  I feel like such a hypocrite for refusing to eat meat based on morality yet eating cheese and eggs which also involve animal cruelty.  I like soy yoghurt better than normal yoghurt anyway.  Pretty soon I’ll probably find a problem with honey, honey. And there is a LOT of amazing vegan food out there.

But this post is not about good things.  We need to keep strictly to the unhappy.  One thing that made me unhappy recently is that something that happened disappointed Annabelle, and seeing disappointment on your own child’s face is a very unpleasant experience.  Parents understand what I mean.  Actually, anyone with a tiny bit of compassion would understand what I mean.  True colors, sour apples not falling far from rotting trees, all of that, blah, blah, blah.

So, I hope I’ve got you off to a good start into your dreariness for Good Friday and you can properly continue to mourn the death of the zombie Jew. You should probably not take your prozac today, either, to aid in the contemplation.  You’re also meant to eat fish, although why anyone in their right mind would want to do something like that is beyond me, and that has nothing to do with animal rights–the stuff just tastes like ass.  All of it.  And whatever you do, don’t dance.  This includes not watching Youtube videos of the absolutely amazing Beardyman, because when you see him and get over your amazement, you will want to move your body.  Ta-ta!

Stephan and I are SO cool that we ended up with free tickets for entry into the the Handcraft and Garden Expo here at the trade fair center in Munich.  Okay, obviously, there is nothing cool about us., but we did get free tickets for entry, and I wanted to make it sound like we are important and connected.  So, yeah.  We are very important (cheap) people.  So we went to the expo.  Which was HUGE.  And mostly boring if you’re not a millionaire.  But I took some pictures of stuff with my phone.  And the highlight was that *I WON A CAKE* !!!!!  I’ve never won anything without having registered for a foot race first, so this was huge.

A big school for pastry chefs held the raffle.  There were a couple hundred cakes, but thousands and thousands of visitors, so I was PSYCHED to find that my number was actually the number of a real CAKE.  Right there on the table!  And let me tell you, the future pastry chefs of the city have GOT it going ON.  It might be the best cake I’ve ever had in my life.  Ever (except for American-style cheesecake and our childhood chocolate birthday cakes).

Anyway, pictures from the expo below.  We have, in this order (sorry I can’t caption pictures, it really screws the format):

Honey. Some cakes. The “London 2012″ cake, which was my favorite one of all of them, hands down.  More cakes.  Cute little purse cakes.  Giant plugs hanging out of the ceiling (by “giant,” I mean like 4 yards long).  A light-up tray in a whirl-pool that was spinning around (if that tray is with me in a whirlpool, I’d probably dump it all over in a heart beat and we’d be swimming in water mixed with champagne).  A mean-looking wooden dude handing out brochures.  A poor, little guy who was given a face where his dingdong should be.  A HUGE, purple metallic rabbit that I took a picture of to be able to make sure later that it was *really* there and not just all the LSD I took before we went to the expo.  Stephan happy with smokers.  A lady without a head dancing with an umbrella (again, proof of reality vs. hallucination).  A lot more cakes.

The last three pictures are of the cake I won in the raffle.  Chocolate raspberry. That’s all!  It was fun walking around!

PS.  Although I feel like a lot of the expo might have been influenced by hallucinogenic drugs, I do not, unfortunately, take LSD.  That was a joke.

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