The Dilemma In My Mixer

I have been a vegetarian for twenty years. There have been no downsides to this for me, since I never liked meat that much and there are very, very few vegetables and fruits I dislike. The upsides have been great health (I have blood pressure and cholesterol levels that would make you weep with envy) and a very satisfying smug sense of moral superiority™. That is until two weeks ago, when I read this story on Yahoo news.

Let me back up here for a second. I have been an ovo-lacto vegetarian for twenty years. During all that time, I felt that I was doing my body and the planet a huge favor and that by still choosing to keep dairy and eggs in my diet, I wasn't harming any animals. I was right on the first two counts, but oh, so wrong on the second count. My warm, fuzzy sense of moral superiority™ took a severe beating after reading how little baby male chicks are ground up alive at the egg factory. They aren't kept after hatching because this "genetic product" is not cost-efficient to keep around to adulthood, so they are disposed of in the most cruel manner I've ever heard of. The females are then sent to cages for egg-laying purposes, and more than likely fed the remains of their siblings. (Wonder where all that salmonella comes from? There's your answer right there.) And forget about free-range. It's pretty much the same life in a bigger cage. If you have the stomach for it, you can read all about it at Mercy for Animals. But don't click on the hatchery video there if you're highly sensitive. I couldn't watch it.

So that was it. I was done with eggs. Easy to substitute and I never really liked them much. I *forced* myself to eat them because during one of my checkups, the doctor suggested I get a little more protein in my diet -- granted, this was during the height of the Atkins hysteria, so I probably should have questioned that, but well, I didn't. I had to whip those things up with as many spices and herbs as I could think of to disguise that awful flavor. Yucky! So again, no sacrifice, really.

But along with the information I was gathering about eggs, I also got information on the dairy industry. Think that no animals get killed for that milk you're pouring on your cereal? Forget that noise. Just like humans, in order for a cow to produce milk, she has to get pregnant. So she gets artificially inseminated, goes through her pregnancy and gets milked, not by the loving hands of Farmer Brown, but by a big scary stealy contraption that often leaves the cow mangled and bleeding. (Yep. Along with the milk, you're drinking blood and pus. Thirsty?) And what happens to that cute little calf that should be leaping about and bleating for it's mother? Well, we can't have that thing around if we need to milk Bessie. Let's send our little guy off to the veal farm. And let me tell you, before I read the ground-up-chicks story, veal was my number one outrage of the factory farm industry -- and I had been supporting that industry for all that time!

What the hell was wrong with me? I know my biology. Heck, I worked on a small farm when I was in high school, so I knew that you had to start the reproduction process in order to get eggs and milk. I think I was just too lazy to think that one through.

So I've started a vegan diet. So far, so good. Milk? I've switched to Almond and Coconut milk (So Delicious brand is AWESOME and will make your morning Cinnamon Harvest cereal absolute HEAVEN!!!! It's also fortified with B12, so bonus!) and I've found that I don't have problems feeling gassy and bloaty after drinking it. And it's so yummy! I was not a fan of soy milk, but have discovered that it's not as bad as it used to be. It's not so chalky tasting anymore, so they've obviously improved the way it's made. It's pretty good in a vanilla latte! Surprise! So again, not a sacrifice and I actually feel better since I've started drinking non-dairy. And just an FYI -- it's estimated that at least 60% of the world's adult population is lactose intolerant, so it's actually *unusual* to be able to digest dairy milk beyond infancy. You can get calcium from plenty of other sources besides dairy milk and vitamin D you can make yourself -- just sit in the sun for 15 minutes or so.

Cheese. Ah, this is indeed a sacrifice. I LOVE cheese. Pizza will never be the same. But you know what? I always risked a migraine when I ate super aged cheese. It's really fatty and bad for me. And my Nutrition Action Newsletter tells me the same. It probably makes me gassy and bloaty too. This IS a sacrifice, but I DO need to earn back my smug sense of moral superiority™, since I was kidding myself for all those years.

Butter. Here lies my dilemma. I did love my buttered toast, but have been very good and using nut butters instead of dairy butter for a while now, so it's not much of a change as far as that goes. But BAKING! The vegan baking substitutes that I have found all have PALM OIL in them! I have been enraged about the ubiquitous use of palm oil for some time now. I cannot believe that a community so concerned about animal rights would turn to an alternative that is, in my mind, even worse! Habitats are being destroyed for endangered species like the orangutan and tapir -- and if that's not animal cruelty, I'll eat my hat! And that shit is in EVERYTHING! It's easier to avoid eggs and dairy than it is to avoid palm oil. It's in your food, it's in your soap, it's in your cosmetics, it's in your household cleaners, it's in your friggin' biodiesel (if your going about that way). And it's awful. So palm oil or butter for my baking? I *could* give up baking, but I LOVE baking and I shouldn't have to have this no-win situation.

My hope lies in coconut oil or edible cocoa butter. (BTW - coconut palm and date palm are two different things -- it's the date palm oil that is causing all my problems.) I hear tales that both melt the most like butter, but at a little higher of a temperature (which means a little more liquid adjustment for me, but I think I can handle it). Cocoa butter is expensive, as is coconut oil, I think. But I'm willing to give it a try. It seems the best solution to the butter vs. palm oil dilemma. Besides, baked goods should only be a sometimes food anyway, as I've learned from Cookie Monster.

So my pluses so far?

1. My rapidly shrinking belly fat. Seems that not stuffing any old thing into my hungry maw is making it easier to lose that stubborn tummy.

2. No more gassy, bloaty afternoons. It's a win-win situation for everyone!

3. My skin is looking soooooo much better!

4. Things I can still eat that I love: Vosges Red Fire Dark Chocolate, Chocolate Jo-Jos, Tofurky slices, Izze Grapefruit soft drink, and Swirlz makes vegan palm oil-free versions of their cupcakes! Hooray!

5. I've *doubled* the reduction of my carbon footprint. When you go vegetarian, you reduce your carbon footprint by 1 ton per year. Vegans have a 2 ton reduction. (BTW -- I don't expect everyone to go veg, but just switching to a plant-based diet a few times a week can make a big difference, so this is something for *everyone* to consider.)

6. Extra pluses -- Vegan mayonnaise that doesn't taste eggy! Discovering and switching to Field Roast Grain Meat Co's awesome, awesome vegetarian Italian sausage!

7. The gradual and welcome return of my old friend, the smug sense of moral superiority™.

BTW, if you've read this blog before, you know I'm awfully fond of our fellow primates. So if you'd like to help out The Orangutan Conservancy, please visit their wonderful website.

People Like to See the Dead Guy's Hat

Last night was the 75th anniversary of John Dillinger's death, so after the show, we strolled over towards the Biograph Theater to stand vigil at the infamous alley to mark the occasion. I totally forgot that the John Dillinger Died For You Society would also be commemorating the moment as well!

We got there just in time! A bagpiper was piping and a man dressed as Dillinger and a woman dressed as Anna Sage (the "Woman in Red" -- who really wore orange...) walked past the theater and started down the alley. The guy gave a little speech about how his hat was borrowed and that he had to promise to bring it back in the same condition he left with it or "Dillinger's death would seem like nothing in comparison"... I'm not sure if it was the real mccoy or what, but I like to think so. He was then asked to lie down on "the spot" by one of the members of the crowd. He told us that he would do it, but warned that the last time he did this, none of the photos would develop. Well, Ersatz Dillinger, this is the digital age, so we can keep snapping pics until one does!

As you can see, we got the photo! Vague notions that this may be the start of my budding career as a crime scene photographer began to creep into my brain. David pointed out that in real life this would be much more grisly, and I would probably be sickened and so dashed my hopes. (I'm pretty sure, however, that John Dillinger did not carry a cell phone. So maybe I could be a detective, what with such quick insight as that...) But if you need something inconclusive to make you go woooooooo, the photos I tried to take of the actual alley would not turn out at all! SPOOOOOOOOOKKKKKKYYYYY!!!!

Gundam! Gundam! Gundam!

Need a really good reason to go to Japan (I'd go at the drop of a hat, but most folks need the excuse...) Look no further!















Oh, and you need to watch the Japanese video from YouTube!

My Cousin Was A Gangster's Moll!

I've been waiting for quite some time to see Public Enemies, the latest film about the infamous bank robber John Dillinger. He had always been a fascination for me because he was part of our family lore. Why? Because his girlfriend, Evelyn "Billie" Frechette is in our family tree. She and my grandfather, Edward Frechette, were first cousins. I remember first hearing about Dillinger from my grandmother, back in the '70s, when someone called our house looking for background information on Billie. I can't remember if it was for a film or a book, but afterward I noticed that we got numerous phone calls from strangers whenever a Dillinger book or movie was planned. Most times, the family kept pretty silent about her, since giving out information to strangers about dead relatives was considered to be in poor taste. And Billie had been exploited quite enough by the press during her lifetime, so most of the family resolved to let her rest in peace.

I never met Evelyn. She died of cancer when I was about four years old. However, my grandmother used to tell me all kinds of stories about my grandfather, who died at the age of 45 from a heart attack (when my mom was only 7 years old). Grandma had remarried, but that marriage was not a happy one, and she was living with us while my dad was stationed overseas. She would wax nostalgic about my grandfather quite often, telling us how we'd be such spoiled kids if he were still around. One of the stories she told me was this:

One day, my grandfather was down in the cellar getting some firewood for the stove. He was still living at home at the time and his father, Billie's uncle, was outside on the porch. When my grandfather opened the cellar doors, there was a gun pointed right in his face. He heard his father say "It's okay, John. That's my boy." The gun was put away and when my grandfather looked at who was holding it -- there stood John Dillinger! He and Billie had stopped at her uncle's place because a) they wanted a safe place to get something to eat and b) most Feds wouldn't follow anyone onto the Reservation.

When Grandma told me this story, I had no idea who John Dillinger was. I just figured he was a bootlegger or something (there were LOADS of bootlegger stories in the town I grew up in). So I had to look him up at the library. (I didn't even think of asking my grandmother -- that's just the kind of kid I was. I always looked stuff up in the library instead of asking questions. Dumb, I know. I could have gotten even more stories!) I've since read quite a bit about him and it is quite a fascinating piece of Americana to sink your teeth into.

So I was a bit disappointed in the Public Enemies movie. All the actors are well cast, but there's something a little "off" about the finished product. Part of it, to me anyway, is that I don't think Michael Mann did a very good job at capturing the zeitgeist of the times. Yeah, he lets you know that America was in the midst of the Great Depression, but he didn't really show just how bad times were then. People were hungry and desperate, and really, really angry with banks, police officers and federal agents. The banks were foreclosing, and the cops and the feds were kicking people out of their homes. Not to mention the head-busting that was going on when workers tried to unionize. Bank robbers like John Dillinger and Charles "Pretty Boy" Floyd became folk heroes because there was something of a Robin Hood quality to them, a way to vicariously give some "payback" to the banks and authority figures who were oppressing the everyman of this country.

The other thing that bothered me was that Mann's handling of the history was a bit whimsical, to say the least. I understand that sometimes you have to sacrifice facts for drama, but in this case I'm not so sure it was justified. Dillinger's true story is exciting and fascinating on its own, as well as the stories of all the other people involved. I don't know why you would need to change it as much as it was in the film. (In the movie, Baby Face Nelson is shot down before Dillinger. That didn't happen. Not to mention the other series of events depicted at the Little Bohemia lodge.) You also don't get any of the real-life drama that went on, like J. Edgar Hoover being really jealous of Melvin Purvis because he was really smart and more experienced in the field and how he eventually destroyed Purvis' career. Or how Billie went on a lecture tour after she got out of prison to talk about her time as Dillinger's girl. (Her lecture was called "Crime Doesn't Pay" and was supposed to hammer home the consequences of breaking the law -- although most people who came to see her didn't care about that part. They wanted to hear about life with Dillinger!)

The film's casting department got the right people to play the parts, though, I have to admit that. Dillinger was known to be witty, charismatic and photogenic. That says Johnny Depp all over it. Melvin Purvis was smart, capable and resourceful. I don't know if that says Christian Bale all over it, but he's a good actor. Marion Cotillard is wonderful depicting a soft-hearted gal who falls for the wrong guy. The locations were terrific. And Baby Face Nelson really was as crazy as he is portrayed in the film. It should have worked, but alas did not. The script needed work to tighten up some of the story and it just overall felt like Michael Mann's heart was not in this.

So here's what I recommend. Get the book Public Enemies and read that instead. You can also read an article about Dillinger at my favorite site (at least it was until it was bought out by TruTV -- but they still have the old articles up at least) The Crime Library. If you want to learn more about Evelyn Frechette, PBS' American Experience has a great article on her. You should also buy Otis Taylor's album Respect the Dead with the song "Ten Million Slaves" which is that awesome song you heard in the trailer and in the movie.

But heck. If you want to fork over ten bucks just to look at Depp and Bale for a couple of hours, I can hardly say I blames ya, ya big lug.

Chicago Cuisine

Before I start, I must address the elephant in the room and talk about the Death of Michael Jackson™. I admit that I was not the die-hard fan and was guilty as anyone of making tasteless jokes at his expense. But I also felt kind of sorry for the guy. Even though he was acquitted, he'll forever be a child-molester in many people's eyes. Was he guilty? Who knows. But I think that if he were a pedophile, he probably would have been known to frequent certain overseas travel destinations in order to fulfill that need in private. (Go ahead and ask Gary Glitter all about it.) Plus, there was no evidence to speak of, just the words of a couple of kids whose parents seemed all too interested in a big monetary settlement. Hardly a smoking gun. Was he freaky? Hells yes! But who wouldn't crack under the pressure of being in the public eye since the pupa phase? The poor guy obviously had a self-image disorder and his bizarre quest to recapture the childhood he never had led to some extraordinary lifestyle decisions which led us all to believe he was wacky and unhinged. All I know is, love him or revile him, the dude wrote some solid pop tunes that will stand the test of time. Who didn't absolutely love Thriller? Dancing zombies and Vincent Price all at once? Shut up! It was so awesome! Michael Jackson was also my very first celebrity crush. I remember watching the Jackson 5 cartoon when I was a little kid (what the heck was that talking snake all about anyway?) and I believe the album ABC was the first non-Disney album I ever owned. (It was a used one, given to me by my then 16-year-old Aunt Bev who didn't want it anymore. Or she had two -- I can't remember too clearly.) And my sister and I begged my Mom to buy the Alphabits cereal box with the cardboard Jackson 5 record on the back. (Yes, kiddies, you could listen to music that was printed on cereal boxes back in the day. You and your iPod... Hmph.) But one thing is certain: I will FOREVER be grateful to him for recording the only known song in the world that is a loving tribute to a malicious, conniving, homicidal rodent. Thank you, Michael Jackson, for giving me Ben. I loved that song when I was a kid, and still love it today.

I also want to say a few words about Farrah Fawcett. I was not a fan at all and never watched Charlie's Angels. Even as a kid, I found it silly and unrealistic. (And this coming from someone who watched Planet of the Apes like it was gospel!) I was more into Wonder Woman during that era, because it was a heck of a lot more fun and I had a raging crush on Lyle Waggoner. (I used to watch The Carol Burnett Show to see him too... I KNOW. Stop laughing.) But I do have to say that because of Farrah, more women will be aware of the risks in certain types of sex. You don't have to tell me if you engage in anal sex (and I would not be unhappy if you didn't) but you should tell your doctor and get the extra pap smear. It could save your life.

So now that you have that checklist of Dawnie's childhood crushes made, we can now move on to the subject of this post: FOOD!

As the Taste of Chicago juggernaut flexes it's mighty abdomen this week, I think it is appropriate to talk about the culinary delights that this fair city has to offer. And, yeah, you might find some tasty treats at TOC, but you won't find Dawnie there. I'm not big on hot weather, crowds, and food on a stick. Mostly I'm cursing all the people who are in my way as I fight upstream through the crowds so I can get my paperwork to our Accounting department, which is across the street from my office. So I tend to have my food-affairs out in the wild, as I dislike the zoo-food of TOC and find it lacking in intimacy...

Today I had a sweet tooth that reared it's tiny little maw for something very specific: a cupcake. Now, you have to know that near the Greenhouse Theater where I spend my Wednesday evenings flicking on lights and starting up music cues, there is a wonderful little cupcake bakery called Swirlz. With quite possibly the best frosting anywhere, these delightful little confections are an extreme temptation that one must give in to every once in a while. And it's way worth it. They are mighty tasty and you need to get one if you are in the area. Unfortunately, Swirlz is too far to get to on my lunch hour, so instead I thought I'd try out a place in the Loop that I had passed by a few times, but never stopped in.

So today, Loop Lurkers, I decided to buy my first cupcake from Sugar Bliss. Oh. my. god. This is quite possibly the best cake portion of a cupcake to exist on the planet. I got the Chocolate Cappuccino cupcake and the chocolate cake portion was so dark, it was inky black. And sooooo moist it nearly melted on its own. Just. Fabulous. The only drawback to this cupcake being the most perfect food on the planet was the frosting. Sure, it was delicious. But it was just a bit too sweet. As in, the frosting crunched a tiny bit when you bit into it. Not a terrible sin, but just enough to make it a 9.5 out of a 10.

My solution to this dilemma would be to marry the frosting portion of a Swirlz cupcake with the cake portion of Sugar Bliss and then you'd have something. But there may be reasons that this should be avoided. Perhaps this would be too much for your earthly self and you would drop dead on the spot as your brain would think it had ascended into Heaven. So maybe just play it safe and get a plain old Sugar Bliss cupcake when you're wandering aimlessly in the Loop like you do. You'll thank me and so will your brain.

I'll post other exciting Chicago Food Adventures as I think of them. I know you are excited about that! Try to contain yourself! Good night, Citizens!

Let's Review: The Legend Continues

First of all, I need to lower my head in sorrow and mention the passing of David Carradine. If you were a kid in the 70s, you watched Kung Fu. You just did. It was major and unbelievably cool. You tried to get away with walking softly across the very expensive rice paper in your art class -- until the teacher asked you to sit down. You wondered what kind of insect name you should take on when you finally found your Master Po. At least I did. I was thrilled when David Carradine made his comeback in an awesome way in the Kill Bill movies, after having made some mediocre/bad films and years of battling alcohol and drug addiction. I had really hoped he had reached an inner calm, much like his television character. I can't imagine what happens to make a person decide to hang himself in a hotel closet in Bangkok, but I'm very sorry Mr. Carradine's life ended so tragically. Rest in peace, Kwai Chang Caine.

And so, to cheer you, Dear Reader, I will review some pleasures offered up by a couple of well-established entertainers, for your edification and exhortation.

DITTIES

I finally got around to buying the new Marillion album Happiness is the Road which I had neglected to purchase when it was released back in October, which makes me a bad, bad fan who should be shunned and run out of the club. But now that I have it, I... am slowly warming up to it. When the band recorded Somewhere Else, they were all pleased with themselves that they had recorded so much material they could use it for another album. That's all fine and dandy, but if you know how Marillion works, they do a whole lot of jamming before a song actually comes out of it. And unfortunately, this album struck me as one big leftover jam session the first couple of times I listened to it. And it really kind of is, so I would not recommend this to the casual listener. That's not to say there aren't gems to be found on this album. The song "This Train Is My Life" is stunningly gorgeous, and I find myself hitting the replay icon for "Wrapped Up in Time" and "Thunder Fly". But if you're only vaguely interested, I would just buy a few of the songs individually and/or get them from a friend. This album is mainly for nerdy hardcore fans like me. And even I will probably end up just putting the good stuff on my playlist, and only listening to the whole album when I'm working on a project. I'm fairly pleased with this, but I'm glad I got it from iTunes and didn't pay an arm and a leg buying the cd (in pounds sterling, no less!) from their website.

TALKIES

Who doesn't love the Evil Dead movies? Bruce Campbell, Boomsticks and Shaky Cam! What's not to love? All of this gloriousness was brought to you under the direction of Sam Raimi. Yep. The guy that gave us the Spiderman movies. But before all the fame and the costumed hero antics and big Hollywood mega-bucks budget, good old Sam was scaring the hell out of us and making us laugh uproariously with only a few dollars in his pocket and a rented cabin as a set. Mr. Raimi understands how cheesy and schlocky a good scary movie is, and he delivers these goodies to us all over again with Drag Me To Hell. This movie is one heck of a good time, and I haven't laughed so hard or got so scared since... well, since the Superman ride at Great America. It's certainly been a good long while since I've seen a funny, scary horror flick, though. (Ginger Snaps comes to mind, but that was years ago...) Don't expect anything life changing or profound in this film. Just sit back, keep your arms and feet inside, and enjoy the ride.

That's all I've got for you today kids. I'm waiting for Public Enemies to be released and then I can tell you everything I know about Billie Frechette and how John Dillinger almost killed my Grandfather!

Night, night.

This is why Lucifer is called "The Lord of the Rings"

This is my new favorite site on the Interwebs. The article only leads to other areas of awesome crazy. Enjoy!

Aliens and How They Control Earth