Books, terrorists, and cupcakes.

Surely you guys are aware that Will Potter, of Green is the New Red fame, has recently published his first (excellent) book? And, duh, you’re going to go out and buy it and politely ask him to sign it when he comes to your town, right? You really should.

Last week, Red and I went to our friendly locally owned bookstore, Atomic, for the Baltimore launch of Green is the New Red and a discussion of that most lighthearted topic, the intimidation and prosecution of environmental and animal-rights activists as terrorists. A slavering threat to the American way of life, we are.* I had read most of the book while I was in Charlotte, so I felt a little like Hermione having done all her reading before even arriving at Hogwarts. Only not at all, because 1) I didn’t get to marry Ron Weasley** and 2) Will talked about plenty of things not in the book, and did it in a really engaging way, so I learned a lot. I am not even going to attempt to break down the Green Scare for you, because he does it so well in the book and over on his blog. It is terrifying to realize that nonviolent activists have been convicted of terrorism and secreted away in illegal prison units, while people who have actually committed murder are excused as “angry” or “misunderstood.” Go educate yourselves!

On hand to make sure that no one’s outrage went down without a spoonful of sugar was Tamara of Brunie’s Bakery, the genius whose desserts Red and I have enjoyed many times. Tamara seems to have made it her mission in life to never show up without baked goods. Therefore, I have decided to always bring Tupperware with me to any event where I think she might be, because she made (nay, forced!) us take extras home with us. I was out of my mind on a wicked sugar high by the time we left.

[Bad blogger note: I didn’t get any pics, but you can see some on Atomic’s photostream. In you’re ever in town, show them some love! John Waters does!]

Then Will signed my book and told me he liked my “What Kind of Asshole Eats a Lamb?” shirt. I always love hearing that, because I only have two AR shirts and that one’s my favorite. I hope he enjoyed his visit to Bmore, and I have no doubt that much radical consciousness was raised during his evening here.


*Actually, yeah, kind of. And that’s a good thing, as Martha might say.
**I’m sorry if that’s a spoiler for anyone, but the book’s been out for nearly four years. Do I need to tell you what happens in The Crying Game, too?

What’s better than cake?

Free cake! That’s what Red and I had this weekend, courtesy of the lovely Tamara at Brunie’s Bakery. Tamara made our wedding cake and our wedding reception desserts (cake plus bite-sized goodies), and because she is wonderful, she offered us a complimentary mini anniversary cake. On Friday, I brought home the sweetest little Chocolate Peanut Butter Awesome cake.


Let me say that I have never had a bad dessert from Brunie’s. They’re all vegan, and they’re all delicious. That said, I think the Chocolate Peanut Butter Awesome may be my favorite. I really liked our wedding cake, too (Strawberries and Cream with chocolate ganache), so that’s saying something.

Gluttonous though we may be when cake is involved, Red and I decided to make Mr. Chocolate Peanut Butter Awesome last for more than one evening, so we divided him into six pieces—three for each of us. Also, I can’t believe I just anthropomorphized my anniversary cake. Lucky for me, my husband likes being married to a lunatic. Anyway, six pieces was definitely the right move, because the cake was so rich that four pieces would have been suicidal. The cake itself was light and the peanut butter filling was just salty enough. Tamara had told me that Chocolate Peanut Butter Awesome is a favorite of most of her clients, and now I see why. My own attempts at chocolate ganache and peanut-butter caramel have been fumbling in the extreme, so whatever she’s doing, it’s perfect. Amazingly, our willpower held out, and the cake lasted the entire weekend. It was a sweet anniversary gift indeed.


Thanks, Tamara!

Please don’t feed me that.

Warning: ungrateful wretch on the loose. If you’re not into behavioral inconsistencies and awkward social situations, hie thee to a nunnery. Or someplace cooler, like Vegan Feminist Agitator.

I love everyone who has ever offered me a tempting, lovingly made dessert. It’s always desserts, too, which is the hell of it. No one ever offers me something ultra-foul like liver and onions. But, y’all, I’m stuck between animal products and a hard place here. I love desserts, and I want to please you by enjoying the dessert you made for me. But I really don’t want to eat it if it’s made with eggs or butter.

I know this completely contradicts last week’s birthday cake rant. So? I took no vow of consistency. I’m sure I will continue to struggle with this until 1) everyone in the world becomes vegan, or 2) I magically develop the willpower to say no to dessert, no matter who made it. If, on my next birthday, my mom has not disowned me for my brattiness, I can assure you that, as I’ve been doing, I will eat a piece of whatever non-vegan dessert she makes for me. Unless, of course, she makes it vegan. Then, I will eat many pieces, and buy her a bottle of vegan wine for being the best mom on Earth.

I did it again yesterday. I was at a coffee shop with a friend, happy that they had soymilk for my coffee. “You want dessert?” she asked as she paid. I didn’t. “Well, I got a big cookie for us to share.” Sigh. It was a molasses cookie, soft and chewy with sprinkles of sugar on top. I felt trapped, and guilty for feeling that way. She bought the cookie to share with me! She paid for my coffee! So I nibbled about a quarter of it (and she wasn’t kidding—it was a big cookie). I tried to get her to eat the last quarter, but she pushed it back to me, urging me to finish it. So I ate the rest, rather than throw it away. I think that unconsciously, I figured it would look ungrateful to throw it away, too, so better to just eat the damn thing and flay myself later.

The flaying, as you see, has commenced.

I engage in all sorts of psychological gymnastics in order to eat that cookie or piece of cake or whatever. But she made it for me. It’s only one cookie. It’s not like I put eggs in it. They already think I’m weird. It’s a party. I don’t want to seem snobby or ungrateful. As Marla from Vegan Feminist Agitator pointed out, it’s rationalizations like these, good-intentioned though they are, that keep me complicit in my own uncomfortable situations. I need to commit to this as strongly as I’ve committed to other, more visible aspects of my vegan lifestyle. I need to not worry so much about offending people. Unequivocally refusing meat while tacitly accepting baked goods made with animal products only serves to reinforce the idea that eating eggs and dairy is somehow “not as bad” as eating the bodies of chickens and cows. And as we all know, that’s a damn lie. Cake just looks better, that’s all.

I think I’m making baby steps. I have a delicious-looking loaf of raisin challah bread, given as a wedding present, sitting in my freezer. “You can practically smell the eggs,” my friend Jess remarked as I scrutinized the bread, wondering what to do with it. Ordinarily, Red and I probably would have just eaten it, but we had too many wedding desserts left over, and with Red doing PCRM’s vegan kickstart, we had to lay the smack down and consign it to the freezer. Anybody want? I’ll throw in a loaf of (frozen, vegan) zucchini bread to sweeten the deal.

Photos of sinfully delicious vegan Mocha Midnight Madness Cake (top) and Coconut Cream Pie (bottom) from Brunie's Bakery. The awesomeness of Brunie's desserts cannot be overestimated.