"I'd Rather Be A Hammer Than A Nail" ...

When did we come to live in a world where empathy is equated with weakness? Where caring is seen as irrational and somehow inferior? And what does it mean for us to live in a world like that?

Our beliefs and convictions about the world shape how we see it, and consequently also how it is. In other words, we create, in a very real sense, the world we live in. If we believe it to be a hostile place, where you have to take advantage of others, or be taken advantage of, that is the kind of place it will be. If we think that you have to be ruthless and selfish to be successful, that is how it will be. If we think that being successful means taking as much as we can from as many others as we can, that will become the reality we face. This is the purest self-fulfilling prophecy there is. 

A little while ago I encountered, in the deepest depths of the internet, a discussion about humanity's deepest fear. People were discussing what we, as a species, were most afraid of. Answers included the usual suspects: death, the unknown, fear. The more I thought about it, the more convinced I became that we are, in fact, most afraid of vulnerability. To make yourself vulnerable means to give someone else the power to hurt you. It means to give someone else power, period. And given the world we have created for ourselves, we can reasonably expect that the others will use that power against us. Every time you tell someone about your fears and insecurities, you risk them using that knowledge against you. To throw your words back in your face, to put a finger in the wound when you least expect it, because you have just told them where it hurts the most, where that chink in your armor is located.

I remember a friend telling me how she ended a relationship because she feared that her boyfriend was about to break up with her, and she wanted to be the one doing the breaking up. She did not want to be the nail. I remember years of holding in my feelings, afraid that if I expressed them, the people I cared about would no longer like me, or that they would use the insights into my soul to hurt and manipulate me. To some extent, we all wear a mask, in a desperate attempt to remain in control. It is ironic, in a way, that so many of us seem to strive for intimacy of some kind, for a connection with another being, while at the same time being terrified of allowing ourselves to be seen in our flawed vulnerability. That is why we posture. We put on a show. We succumb to "peer pressure". We tell our young men to "man up". We are ashamed of tears. We distrust. Not too long ago, I was riding on the bus. After most of the other passengers had disembarked, and only a few of us remained, a woman asked me if I had a cell phone. My first reaction was to say no, because I thought of all the instances that are reported in the news where people are taken advantage of. They allow a stranger to use their phone only to have their phone stolen. They take out their wallet to give someone change only to have that person grab the wallet and run of. So I said, no, I don't think I have my phone with me. And then I thought: is that really the kind of world you want? A world where, if you ask someone for a small favor, they will automatically say no, because they expect you to take advantage of their kindness. And so I changed my mind. I told the woman I would check and see if my phone was in my backpack. I let her use the phone to make a call. And nothing bad happened to me - quite the contrary.

Some of the indifference we see towards the immense suffering of humans and non-humans is certainly due simple complacency - life is easier if we don't stop to contemplate the consequences of our actions. Some of it is due to a sort of denial that allows us to continue living in a profoundly inhumane system with our soul intact. And some of it is due to our misperception of what it means to be strong. Our whole system is built on the exploitation of the vulnerable - the "weak" - humans, and especially non-humans. We tell ourselves that we have a right to exploit, torture, and kill millions of non-human animals simply because we can. Because we are "stronger" than they are. But isn't kindness and compassion the greatest form of strength, in a world where empathy is equated with weakness?

Does this mean that we should trust blindly? Bare our heart and soul for everyone to see? Let people use and abuse us time and again? No. It simply means that maybe we can imagine a world where we don't have to choose between being a hammer or being a nail. A world where we can be neither. And maybe we can try to create that world, by overcoming our fear of being vulnerable - and by not taking advantage of those who dare to be vulnerable in our presence.

Eating Vegan in Madison - Pizza

Pizza may not seem like the most "natural" vegan food (after all, don't people eat pizza mainly for the cheese?!?!?), but I have come to realize that vegan pizza is actually quite delicious! In fact, simply cheese-less pizza, without any vegan cheese, may be my favorite yet. I used to think pizza "without cheese" would not be worth eating, but once you try it, you will find that all the other toppings, as well as the sauce, are in fact "drowned out" by cheese. You will experience a much richer, more nuanced pizza when you leave off the cheese.

That being said, Madison is actually pretty great when it comes to all varieties of vegan pizza - the cheese-less kind as well as the kind boasting vegan cheese. Here's a list of places that offer vegan pizza in the area:

Ian's Pizza: Ian's offers a number of vegan options. A variety of their pizzas can easily be ordered vegan - dairy cheese is then simply replaced by Daiya cheese. Even Ian's classics, such as their "Macaroni and Cheese"-pie, can be ordered vegan any time. From time to time, their weekly specialty pies will include vegan options, which makes it possible to order vegan pizza by the slice, without having to order a whole pizza. Ian's also recently started a "Vegan Pizza Night" on Monday nights (at their downtown location), where vegan slices are available. Ian's also delivers.

Glassnickel Pizza: I have only ever ordered Glassnickel pizza, so I cannot say much about the experience of eating in their restaurants, but their online menu is pretty vegan-friendly. The Build-Your-Own pizzas can be made vegan (the crust and some of their sauces are vegan), and you can choose to leave off the cheese, or substitute it with Daiya cheese instead. For a vegan, having pizza delivered is a rare thing, so I was very excited when Glassnickel decided to expand their vegan options.

Salvatore's Tomato Pies: This is one of my favorite places to get vegan pizza. It is a local, non-chain pizza place in Sun Prairie (just north of Madison). Salvatore's uses mainly local, organic ingredients, their crust and sauce are vegan, and they replace dairy cheese with a delicious home-made vegan cheese made of white bean puree. You can choose to veganize one of their specialty pizzas (most often, this is done with their "Mediterranean Pie") or you can opt to build your own pizza.

Pizza Brutta: This place probably offers the most authentically "italian" pizza in Madison - wood-fired Neapolitan pizza, according to their website. The "Pizza Marinara" is a naturally cheese-less option that is offered on their regular menu, and requires absolutely no alterations. Pizza Brutta offers no vegan cheese options, but you can request other pizzas to be made without cheese. If you are a fan of thin-crust, traditionally italian-style pizza (as opposed to its Americanized cousin available at Ian's and Glassnickel), this is the place for you!

If anyone has additional information or thoughts on vegan pizza in Madison, feel free to leave a comment! :)

What to do with Kohlrabi

Kohlrabi - a Family Recipe


Early summer - the season of this wonderful, unfortunately underestimated vegetable. It has always been one of my favorite foods, and in an attempt to get more people enthusiastic about kohlrabi, here's one of my all-time favorite recipe. This recipe, passed down from my grandmother to my mother to me, is how I was first introduced to kohlrabi - and remains my go-to recipe to this day.


Ingredients (serves 4):
8 medium kohlrabi (with as many greens as possible)
6 Tbsp oil
3 Tbsp flour
vegetable broth
salt 
pepper


Wash the kohlrabi, cut them in half and  peel them. Cut into thin slices (1/8 - 1/6 of an inch).

Wash the greens, cut off the stems and tough parts, and tear into pieces. Cover with vegetable broth and cook approximately 10 - 15 minutes, until tender. 

Put kohlrabi and vegetable broth into a large saucepan and cook for about 7 minutes. Test for doneness with a fork, kohlrabi should be easily pierced by fork, but still somewhat firm. Drain, saving the vegetable broth. Put kohlrabi slices in a large, microwave-safe bowl and set aside. Put cooked greens into a food processor and puree. Heat oil in a large pan and add flour, storing constantly, until mixture is slightly browned. Add some of the saved cooking liquid (vegetable broth from cooking kohlrabi) and the pureed leaves. Do not add too much broth, as sauce will become thinner later on, with the kohlrabi adding additional liquid. 

Season to taste with salt and pepper. Add sauce to the kohlrabi slices and finish cooking in the microwave for about 5 minutes. Serve with boiled potatoes. 

How Feminism and Veganism Go Hand in Hand

"Why do you care about animals more than people?" Anybody who is vegan or vegetarian, or has ever worked/advocated for animal rights and animal ethics is probably familiar with that - seemingly innocent - question. The answer is simple: I don't. I care about animals as well as people, and I believe that all kinds of exploitation, oppression, and violence and inextricably linked. If we are to be effective advocates, we should strive for a world without -isms, may they be sexism, racism, ageism, classism, or speciesism. I firmly believe that we cannot eradicate one without, at the same time, eradicating the other. If we fail to do that, the same evil will keep coming back in ever new disguises and forms - as its has done many, many times over the course of human history.

We all can - and should - be able to care about more than one thing, to oppose violence and exploitation in every form, without imposing some sort of ranking, and attacking those who we feel do not tackle the "most important" or "worst" oppression. Many of the -isms we are faced with today are deeply interconnected. Just as I pointed out earlier that violence against women and sexual assault are caused by the same underlying structure - misogyny - as objectification and subtle sexism, and are thus expressions of the same phenomenon, differing mainly in intensity, so are all the other -isms basically manifestations of the same spirit of oppression.

Whenever we degrade, humiliate, violate and subjugate other humans, we treat them "like animals", implying that it is okay to treat animals that way. From there, it is only a small step down the slippery slope. We can treat animals the way we treat them because they are not "like us", and we can treat a certain sub-group of humanity "like animals", because they are not "like us", either. Once you've created a criterion which determines whether one deserves to be treated with respect, it is easy to further narrow down the in-group, and exclude more and more beings based on more and more trivial grounds. They are not "as smart as we are". They "do not recognize their reflection in the mirror". They are "too emotional". They are "not civilized like us". They are --- you get the picture. The only way we can truly stop this vicious cycle is to recognize the intrinsic value of each and every being (and, just in case you were wondering, I am not talking about "potential beings", I have always wondered how people can be so concerned about "potential" life while being so unconcerned with the suffering of so many of those already in this world!).

By treating animals as products, rather than sentient beings, we de-sensitize ourselves to the suffering of others. We teach ourselves and our children that, even though this other being may look and sound and behave as if they were in pain, they really aren't. And if they are, it's not like "our" pain, because they are different in some way. We do not see all the things we have in common, the desire to live, to love and be loved, to experience joy, but rather focus on what divides us. And we do the same with other humans, based on gender, race and ethnicity, sexual orientation or one of the many other ways we've been able to establish as divisions.

For me, veganism - like feminism - is about respect and fairness, about recognizing another being as a whole person, and treating them the way we wish to be treated. Nothing more, and nothing less.

Blaukraut (German Red Cabbage)

I modified and veganized this recipe for Blaukraut (German red cabbage), and  am very happy with it. It can be modified, depending on how "sour/acidic" or sweet you want it to be.

Ingredients:

1 red cabbage (around 3 - 3.5 pounds)

4 tbsp brown sugar, divided

1/2 cup orange juice

4 bay leaves

7 juniper berries (optional)

1/2 - 1 tsp nutmeg

1 tbsp black pepper corns

4 cloves

1 cinnamon stick

1 1/2 cup dry red wine, divided

3 tbsp vinegar (preferably red wine vinegar)

2 tsp salt

2 tbsp vegan margarina, such as "Earth Balance"

1/2 medium red onion, very finely chopped

1/2 apple, peeled and very finely chopped

4 tbsp black currant jam

salt and pepper to taste

Marinade:

Slowly caramelize 3 tbsp of the brown sugar in a pan, then add orange juice and cook for a minute or two. Add 1 1/4 cup of the wine, the bay leaves, juniper berries, nutmeg, peppercorns, cloves and cinnamon stick, bring to a boil, reduce heat and let simmer for 20 minutes. Let cool to room temperature and add the vinegar. Pour through a fine colander into a bowl. Finely cut red cabbage (cut in half, remove outer leaver, cut out stem, then thinly slice lengthwise). Wear gloves and wash utensils quickly to avoid discoloring. Put cabbage in a bowl, pour in the marinade, massage for 5 minutes. Put cabbage and marinade in a large freezer bag, press out air, close and marinade in the refrigerator for 2 days, turning it over every 12 hours.

Above: After first putting it in the refrigerator

Below: After marinading for 2 days

Put cabbage in a colander and press down firmly, collecting marinade in a bowl.

Heat margarine in a pan and briefly sautée. Add 1 tbsp brown sugar and 1/4 cup wine. Simmer until the apple has turned a dark red.

Add cabbage and heat slowly while stirring frequently and adding spoonfuls of the marinade. Simmer for about 35 minutes, then add the black currant jam and cook for another 10 - 15 minutes, until it has reached the desired consistency. You can add more wine, salt, pepper, and vegetable broth to adjust the taste.

German red cabbage is best served with dumplings! Enjoy!

A vegan twist on Dampfnudeln (German Yeast Dumplings)

I've always been a huge fan of sweet dishes, and this recipe combines veganized versions of two of my all-time favorites: the southern German/Austrian Dampfnudel and the Germknödel. Both are sweet yeast dumplings, but the Dampfnudel is cooked in a pot or deep pan, usually in milk, whereas the Germknödel is filled with plum jam, and steamed. Here, we combine the filling traditionally associated with a Germknödel, but the method of preparation typical for Dampfnudeln, to create a delicious, vegan dish! Many thanks to my mom, who played a major part in creating this recipe!


Ingredients (for 10 Dampfnudeln):


For the dough:


- 500 grams all-purpose flour (2 1/4 cups)
- 1 tsp salt
- 250 ml (soy/oat/almond) creamer (1 cup)
- 15 g dry active yeast (2 envelops of 1/4 ounce each)
- 2 Tbsp soy flour
- 50 grams vegan margarine (like Earth Balance) (1/4 cup)
- 50 - 80 grams of sugar (1/3 cup)


To cook/simmer:


- 50 grams vegan margarine (like Earth Balance) (1/4 cup)
- 250 ml soy milk (1 cup)
- 20 grams sugar (1.5 tbsp)
- dash of salt


For the filling and to serve:


- 20 tsp plum jam (you may use any type of jam you want)
- vanilla sauce
- ground poppy seed/powdered sugar mixture

Mix yeast with 1 tsp of sugar and a little bit of lukewarm creamer, and let stand for 15 minutes. All ingredients should have room temperature. Add flour, salt, soy flour, margarine,  the rest of the sugar and the rest of the creamer to the yeast mixture, the dough should be pliable and only a little sticky. Cover, and let rise in a warm place for about 1 hour (it should double in size). Knead the dough and divide into 10 pieces. Stretch out and fill with about 1 tsp of jam, pull dough over filling and press edges together to seal.

Melt 1/4 cup margarine in a flat pot/sauce pan (it needs to have a lid; a glass lid works best, that way you can see inside without lifting the lid, which, if done too soon, would ruin your Dampfnudeln), add soy milk, salt and sugar and place the 10 filled balls of dough in the mixture. It works best if you place them with the "sealed" side down, that way you minimize the risk of them splitting open while cooking. 

Let them rise a few more minutes, then place the lid on the sauce pan, bring to a boil (medium heat), then reduce heat to low and simmer for about 30 minutes, until the Dampfnudeln start to "sing" (the milk mixture should be gone at that point, and they will have developed a nice crust). Do NOT open lid before they are done, otherwise they will collapse. Ladle some vanilla sauce onto a plate, place a Dampfnudel in it, and sprinkle with poppy seed and sugar mixture. Enjoy!

Why Vegan? Why Wisconsin?

With this being the first post, I decided I'd start out by introducing myself, and talking a little about what kind of blog this will be. It's about veganism, feminism, animal rights, and politics. I will talk about recipes, (pop) culture, arts & crafts, about cats, traveling, and vegan products. About restaurants and movies and TV shows. About life, and living vegan in Wisconsin.


I'll start by answering two valid questions: Why vegan? Why Wisconsin? I will try to answer both as best I can, telling you a little bit about myself.

I grew up neither a vegan, nor a Wisconsinite. In fact, I spend most of my life living in rural Bavaria, Germany. When I was thirteen years old, "Mad Cow Disease" was a big deal around where I lived (as it was in other parts of the world). This prompted one of the most important decisions of my life: becoming vegetarian. Now, even though this may sound like a "health vegetarian", I wasn't. Not at all. In fact, when my mom started reading about "Mad Cow Disease", and then animal "farming" in general, it was the ethical aspect of it that shocked and moved us most - and it remains, to this day, the most important aspect of the veg lifestyle. So I (along with my mom and my brother) became ovo-lacto vegetarian. And I was content with that, for many, many years. For fourteen years, to be exact. It wasn't until 2010 that I ever thought - ever wanted to think - about the truth behind milk and eggs, behind all animal products. Even though I had made the first step, had learned about "where meat comes from", and had made the conscious decision not to eat it anymore, a long time ago, I was afraid of going "all the way". I thought vegan food was a joyless, drab, tasteless, and boring affair. I thought vegans were humorless extremists, full of misery, and unable to enjoy life. I thought I could never give up cheese. I thought I would have to give up baked goods, all kinds of desserts, if going vegan. And so I chose not to. I chose not to think about the implications of eating dairy, of eating eggs, of supporting animal agriculture. I knew, in my heart, that something was wrong, but I closed my eyes. That wasn't, of course, a fully conscious choice. But it was a choice.  


In 2010, I couldn't make that choice any longer. I started reading about veganism, and started learning. And I was amazed. Amazed by the choices, the possibilities, the joy. Amazed at all these people feeling the way I felt, going through the processes I went through. I was introduced to new food, new ways of cooking, new ways of looking at the world. And it all resonated with me. It wasn't as if I had changed. It was as if I had finally opened my eyes to who I had been, all along. So I decided to give veganism a try. It couldn't hurt, and if it was too hard, I could always go back, I told myself. And again, I was amazed. It wasn't as hard as I expected it to be. In fact, it was almost easy. Most of the foods I loved could be veganized. I realized that I didn't even miss cheese. And the more I learned about animal agriculture, the less I wanted to eat animal products. Ever again. To my surprise, I suddenly liked to cook and bake. I had always avoided spending time anywhere near the kitchen, I had always eaten what was fast and easy and available (as long as it was meat-less), and suddenly I enjoyed trying new recipes. I also started feeling more at ease with myself. At peace, if you want to say it like that. As if I was suddenly living the ideals that were important to me.


Two other events (not related to veganism) have shaped me more than I would have expected. One of them was September 11, 2001. That was the day when I started paying attention to what is generally called "politics". I started caring about what was going on in the world around me. Well, maybe that's not entirely true. It's not that I hadn't cared before, it's just that I was too busy with my own life. But on that day, I realized that what goes on in "the world" can (and will) affect what goes on in my own little world.
Alright, you may say, but what does that have to do with Wisconsin? Well, it was my interest in politics that caused me to decide to major in political science, and then to go on to grad school in the same field. And this is what brought me to Madison, Wisconsin. You may call it ironic that I moved to the "dairy state" right after becoming vegan. Maybe. But that's how life is, oftentimes. Unpredictable, and sometimes it seems to be playing jokes on you. And I have realized that Madison is an incredibly vegan-friendly city, with a wonderful, and active, vegan community.


The last event that "shaped" me (even though I dislike the drama inherent in that word) was, ironically, the Democratic primary election of 2008. I started out without strong feelings about any of the candidates (why would I? I couldn't vote for any of them, anyways). I was aware that everybody thought Hillary Clinton was "certain" to win the nomination, that she was "inevitable" as the Democratic nominee, and I liked the idea of a female US president. And then strange things happened. It wasn't so much that she made mistakes, that the Obama campaign was surprisingly successful, that she started losing when she should have won. It was something else. Suddenly, I realized that there was pervasive sexism, still today, that politics was, after all, still a "man's world". You may think that I was incredibly naive, and that is probably true. I thought that a woman running for president in 2008 wouldn't be a big deal, that she could win (or lose) just like any other candidate - and I realized, as the campaign went on, that I had been wrong. Now, I am not trying to argue that she lost because of sexism. Many factors, some external, some internal to the campaign, caused her to lose (or not to win) the nomination. She made mistakes, she listened to the wrong people, she didn't see how strong Obama could be, it took her too long to find her voice, or to find the right strategy, she wasn't perceived as "charismatic" as Obama, she was the establishment candidate in a time of change. But on top of all that, the amount of misogyny and sexism that surfaced, that was expressed freely, was shocking, at least to me. And so I became an active feminist, when before I had thought that all the important battles had long been fought.


And this is where I stand today. I study politics. I live a vegan life, and feel better, healthier than I ever have before. I volunteer at a sanctuary for farmed animals. I am a feminist, aware that sexism is alive and well, and that the different forms of oppression in the world are interconnected, and can only be overcome together. I am saddened by all the cruelty in the world, but hopeful that we can change things. That we can make a difference, one step at a time, in our own lives, our own homes. I share my home with the two most amazing cats in the whole world, Dana and Scully. I love to cook and bake, to travel, to read. Nothing can lift my spirits like a Madonna song. And those are the things I will write about, because those are the things I know.