Going Veggie

I’ve always been the salad chef at home, opening the refrigerated  vegetable drawers filled with green onions, (I learned not to say scallions back in the old country), tomatoes of every size and plumpness, celery stalks that could use a little more head room, cucumbers on their way to pickledom bursting with little bumps, and so on. The “and so on’s ” should be growing in our garden but they don’t get enough attention these days and I can’t pack them up and take them with me on my daily mountain walks. And they don’t come in plastic bags like our store-bought greens, which aren’t always greeen — nor are the green grocers who inhabit tv shows and charming children’s books…

I can tell the difference between a carrot and the other so on’s, even when they’re not always orange. I know it  grows from the earth up and not on a tree like lemons and oranges. Which makes me wonder about lentils, which come in cans of soup — do they grow on lentil trees or are they land-borne living in the land of the mongoose? I know that they don’t grow up in cans: Amy’s or otherwise.

I was in a set of three classes called Viva Veggies and liked the sampling part best. Lots of ginger in the soup. Olive oil was banished from eating territory unless it came from Napa Valley and could be considered pure enough. Preferred companions: oranges squeezed or apple cider vinegar.

Eat with intent we were schooled. No cheese or chicken or anything that has a mother.

Have you sensed a bit of indecision on my part? I like to cook vegetables and I’ve been lectured about the ills associated with meat diets and rarely cook it myself.  But closing doors isn’t always easy and walking past the cheese section in stores takes some courage. So I’m stocking up more and more on veggies … I’m going there but not entirely gone.