A little moment

Tonight as I sat outside at Open City restaurant on Calvert Street I had one of those little moments in life that are all too rare--mainly because we don't pay attention--a moment I'd like to share in this blog.

As I sat with my Sam Adams lager, I was morose and fighting to hide tears as I thought about my 9 year old rabbit Woodstock, crippled with spondylosis and now dying from cancer. Eight years ago tomorrow this beloved animal came into my life and has blessed it ever since. I know goodbye is near and it's hard not to dwell on it. But since I didn't think bursting into tears at an outdoor cafe in D.C would be either appropriate or attractive, I turned my attention elsewhere.
That's when I noticed the sparrows.

As I ate my veggie quinoa, I watched as these tiny birds flitted about the shelves containing the basins of dirty dishes, many carrying the unfinished remains of human suppers. Much to their luck, three french fries dropped from a plate carried by a hustling busboy. One sparrow wasted no tine, swooping in and grabbing a French fry twice the length of his body and dashed away. Inwardly I cheered (is it really humane to cheer on a bird about to consume so much saturated fat?) Then a second bird aimed for one of the remaining fries; instead of snatching it and flying away, he pecked at it several times, much to my chagrin. Not a good strategy for this little guy--a waiter burst out of the restaurant frightening this bird and his feathered friends back to their original perch on the planters on the next door restaurant's patio. Minutes passed, but this hungry bird had no chance to get back. Busboys and waiters walked in and out, and, as I feared, several rubber-soled feet flattened the fries into the brick.

I was well into my blueberry pie slice when the sparrows ventured back. Much to my amusement, one of them figured out there was more food on the plates stashed in the basins and proceeded to hop onto a plate. He snatched a large fry and got out of there. Meantime another feathered friend-- or was it the same bird who tried this before--made an attempt to peck at the flattened fry on the bricks. Once, twice, several more times he was thwarted by pounding feet. One more time, he hopped over--peck,peck,peck. Under my breath, I whispered, "come on pal, just grab it and get outta here!" I don't know if he heard me--I hope the other restaurant patrons didn't!--but at last he got a firm hold on this long, sneaker-crushed fry and he soared into the summer breeze, fluttering across Calvert Street with his hard-earned meal dangling from his beak. I wanted to cheer "Yes!" with the sheer joy for this little bird's triumph, but social decorum--and the strong desire not to spend the night in a looney bin--kept me in check.

What's the point, you ask? In sum, my sparrow friends reminded me to seek out the simple joys in nature even as we are immersed in sadness at the mortality in it. They stirred me from my gloom tonight and they will never know how they made me smile and brought me a brief sheer moment of happiness even as I try to prepare for the mourning period coming my way. Thank you, my fine feathered friends. I will never forget this.

Seasons 52 - A Restaurant for Everyone

Imagine the joy this vegan felt when a new restaurant at a local mall boasted "alternative menus" on their website. That had to mean one thing--VEGAN CHOICES!! WOOHOO!!! And not JUST vegan - they list menus for lactose free, low sodium, gluten free, vegetarian, garlic-free--HUH? (As an American of partly Italian descent, I balked at this one--garlic is one of the four basic food groups, I don't care what ANYONE says!)

I dined here yesterday for lunch and you can tell when a restaurant has only been open five days. Everyone from the manager to the hostess to the waitress kisses your behind from the minute you walk in the door till the time you waddle out. I must confess, I LOVED that--too bad most restaurants lose that zeal several months in. But I digress. The service, though exceptional, was not my main reason to celebrate. The food was very fresh and very satisfying. I ordered the farmer's market vegetable plate, which consisted of golden beets, thin asparagus, baby carrots, baby bella mushrooms, cranberry-almond tabbouleh, and grilled ponzu-glazed tofu. For dessert (most of which are not vegan but are served mini-style as mini-indulgences), I had a mini-fresh fruit cup which was just enough to fill me. And it had EVERYTHING squeezed into this little glass--raspberry, diced mango and papaya, strawberry slices, blueberries, pineapple. Yummy! The wines recommended to me were first rate as well, in particular a sweet riesling I had to accompany my dessert. I am not much into dessert wines but this one was outstanding.

Other vegan options here include vegetable penne pasta served with a garlic-herb sauce, the grilled ponzu-glazed tofu served with a choice of two side dishes (broccoli, roasted asparagus, penne pasta, red potatoes, cremini mushrooms, etc.) They have some lovely salads as well. To start, I had an arugula salad with cranberries and golden beets (minus the goat cheese). The menu also boasts a tomato and hass avocado salad that looks tempting.

All in all, I really enjoyed my lunch. The best part is, Seasons 52 has something for everyone--the perfect restaurant for a group of people of mixed dietary needs. Check it out sometime. Visit them online at http://www.seasons52.com/ to find a location near you.

Life is just a bowl of (vegan) calamari!

It's official. I have heard it all now. VEGAN calamari. Even more perplexing is the fact that I just purchased it from Pangea, the Vegan Store. This is a gal who grew up hating the real thing. My grandmother made calamari (fried with marinara sauce to dip it in) but the chewiness of it made me gag. Sadly the fact that this was once a sea animal who was minding his/her own business having a happy life of his/her own in the ocean never dawned on me as a child. I only knew one thing--yuk! And yet here is the FAUX version waiting for me in my freezer. How did it get there?

Well, truth be told, I learned to like calamari later in life. Hubby and I were vacationing in Phuket, Thailand and at a buffet we dined at, a whole bowl of these strange looking "rings" intrigued me. Fast forward to life back in Virginia, when we discovered Maggiano's, a family style Italian restaurant whose fried calamari could rival my grandmother's. It is in fond memory of THAT dish that compelled me to buy this faux squid. I will try it some day...really...but only after I make my own homemade marinara sauce to accompany it. You know, in case it...well...blows (no offense, Sophie's Kitchen, but I have sampled many a faux meat that have not lived up to their promise!) Imitation calamari? REALLY?? Amazing. In any case, I will be sure to post here after I summon the nerve to try this interesting creation. I do hope in a way it resembles the real thing, as much as that idea may repulse many vegans. I heartily endorse any product that can satisfy the tastes of people who might otherwise not go vegetarian because they believe--erroneously, of course--that they must forever leave behind their favorite foods. I am sure that many vegan Italian-Americans like myself are thrilled at the prospect of vegan calamari. Let's hope Sophie's version lives up to our hopes. Stay tuned!

Hay Hay Hay

We want our hay and we want it NOW!

One person's pet, another person's pest

This weekend I spent time with old friends who at the moment are not enamored of rabbits. Their garden is presently being raided by wild rabbits who are apparently extra fond of the parsley my friends are trying to grow. I joked that they have to stop planting what rabbits love to eat. My friend responded quite seriously that she would prefer to kill them all.

I understand as someone who also gardens that having your plants devoured by animals is frustrating, to say the least. I have had more seeds plucked away by birds than I care to see, but my first thought for a resolution isn't killing. And what saddens me is my friends know about but clearly don't comprehend my love and devotion to rabbits. When I told them how my disabled rabbit Woodstock was faring and how I have to bathe him everyday, my friends, clearly thinking I was wacky to insist on keeping alive a rabbit who still eats and loves his mate, kept insisting emphatically, "put him down, put him down." Hurt and perplexed by this, I changed the subject because I did not want to turn a very pleasant day into a downer. But this conversation lingers in my mind.

I don't understand how, even if they have hostile feelings toward animals they see as pests, people can be so insensitive to another person's devotion to a PET. Woodstock is family, as are all my rabbits, but clearly my friends don't see him this way at all. He is a burden, an inconvenience I would best rid myself of--I assume that is how they see him. I will never understand people who do not love animals, I freely admit that, but I don't see how it should be so mystifying that you don't just put down those you love because of inconvenience. Taking care of elderly parents can be felt as inconvenient, but I know my friends would never put their parents down for such a callous reason--why should a beloved pet not be given the same consideration? Oh, yes, I forgot. It's the old " just a rabbit " scenario. Well, Woodstock will never be just a rabbit to me, and I feel very sorry for those who can't understand this. No one, no being should EVER be thought of as "just" anything. We are all deserving of a free and happy life devoid of pain and suffering, even those creatures some ignorant humans believe to be worthless pests.

The Rabbit’s Song Outside the Tavern

We, who play under the pines,
We, who dance in the snow
That shines blue in the light of the moon,
Sometimes halt as we go-
Stand with our ears erect,
Our noses testing the air,
To gaze at the golden world
Behind the windows there.

Suns they have in a cave,
Stars, each on a tall white stem,
And the thought of a fox or an owl
Seems never to trouble them.
They laugh and eat and are warm,
Their food is ready at hand,
While hungry out in the cold
We little rabbits stand.

But they never dance as we dance!
They haven't the speed nor the grace.
We scorn both the dog and the cat
Who lie by their fireplace.
We scorn them licking their paws
Their eyes on an upraised spoon-
We who dance hungry and wild
Under a winter's moon.

a poem by Elizabeth Coatsworth

A Bun and A Slipper

"Okay, somehow this does not feel the same. Where is my Ruby?" - Cocoa