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| - What is a straight, meat-eating male, who can barely operate a microwave, doing at a vegan cooking class? Excellent question. Let's explore this odd social experiment....
Foogazi is a pair of chefs who offer "plant-based" cooking classes and catering out of Tremont. We ended up at their vegan Thanksgiving class (menu: stuffed seitan, pumpkin chili, mashed cauliflower and raw apple pie) through a series of acquiesces, and probable revenge for a bird-banding trip that I subjected my wife to earlier this year. (WIFE: I don't want to go bird-banding. My makeup is a mess. BRYN R.: These people don't wear makeup. You are like a Hollywood movie star by comparison. They'll probably think you're Pamela Anderson, campaigning against the bird-banding operation because of the cruel detainment of chickadees and blue jays against their will. You'll be fine.)
Anyhow, this was my first (and last) cooking class, and I'm not vegan, so I'm not really sure how to rate this experience in terms of number of stars. I'm so distant from their target audience that my opinion is totally irrelevant and probably unfair. It's like asking Bessie the Cow to rate the abattoir. ("Add 1/2 star for sharp, efficient blades. Deduct 4-1/2 stars for imminent slaughter and death.")
Let me come up with some reasonable criteria:
Did I personally have an enjoyable time, standing around in an apron with a pink-colored knife for 2 hours chopping parsley and onions, feeling all my masculinity irrevocably slip away? Absolutely not. (1 star. )
Did I learn anything about vegan cooking? Beyond the fact that it's really complicated and something I will never attempt again? Not really. (2 stars.)
Was the class professionally run? Hmmm, well, if the class was "How to Disarm An Roadside Bomb", there would have been major problems. However, occasionally vague directions and absent instructors are acceptable when it comes to cooking. I do have to give them credit for the ton of prep work the instructors put into the class. Nothing burned down. Nobody lost a finger. (3 stars.)
Was the food good? Compared to a bacon double-cheeseburger? No. Compared to vegan food? Mid-level, I think. Here's the thing about typical vegan food....all that effort to add the necessary proteins needed for a strictly vegan diet really seems to compromise taste in unpleasant ways for the casual eater. It tastes like a utilitarian, medical meal, like they're purposely denying you any pleasure just to keep you alive. Plus, it gives you EXPLOSIVE gas. I think even my neighbors, 3 houses away, can testify to this. (3 stars)
OK, but what about dessert? The raw apple pie dessert with a crushed nut and chopped date crust was excellent. Delicious! I honestly enjoyed it more than traditional apple pie. I even volunteered my own nuts, since I knew I wouldn't be needed them after this class and they were getting crushed anyway, but the offer of my testicles in the pie crust was denied on grounds that my balls are not strictly vegan. (5 stars)
Did I like the instructors? Yes, very much. I had been nervous that they would be a bunch of kooky in-your-face vegan zealots, but they were really cool and nice. I liked them. They're a small business with all the right intentions. As a vegan sympathizer myself, I wish them the best of luck. (5 stars)
Will I appreciate cashing in the sexual favors that my wife owes me, after agreeing to go to this ridiculous class with her? HELL YES!!! (5-stars)
EPILOGUE:
At the end of the evening, as we sat there in a forgotten corner of an old church eating our humble family-style Thanksgiving meal, denied my alcohol and my meat, stripped of my lifestyle and all that sacred volition that defines it, I felt like a broken man, like someone down on his luck asking for shelter and a meal. It had the somber atmosphere of an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, and as the rest of the group traded stories of quadruple-bypasses and loved ones lost to heart disease, I felt like I should have been confessing something, too, because I know well that I'm also an addict....an addict to the cheap meat and caffeine and all the other shit that fuels this economy. I'm a cog in the machine that wants me to produce and work and produce and work and drop dead, all in the name of growth and prosperity. I am constantly making compromises of my long-term health just to survive another afternoon of soul-crushing meetings. I'm 37 and mortality is no longer an abstraction, and the probability of real health problems are increasingly just around the corner if I don't change my habits. These people have made that transition, whether for ethical, environmental, or health reasons, and I admire them for it. The meals may be basic and cruel, but history will smile on them in the end. I haven't been this in touch with my humility in a long time.
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