That Vegan Thing, Again (aka, Don't Let Me Cook)

There it sat, in the pantry. A lone red can of tomatoes with green chiles expiring in a mere month or so, staring at me, guilting me into using it rather than letting it collect even more dust.

I should have let it sit there.

I mean, the idea sounded good. Throw in some TVP, frozen peppers, and some seasonings, serve with a few pieces of fried corn tortillas, and dinner for one is done!

TVP? Oh, it’s textured vegetable protein (soy). It’s actually pretty decent in spaghetti sauce. Trust me.

Just don’t ask my husband, who is quite thankful he had to work through last night’s dinner. Or my daughter, who was lucky enough to snag Monday’s leftovers.

Overall, the transition to veganism has been positive. I feel better, and my family has been putting up with it. Even the dog comes running whenever I’m sautéing tofu!

No, I’m not kidding. Too many years of breeding “for show” have this little guy confused, making him more excited about tofu in the pan than bacon in the freezer.

But last night’s dinner…was a disaster. Thankfully, some kitchen god created the garbage disposal, which worked - and didn’t spew it all back out at me.

I wouldn’t have blamed it if it had.

So, I did what most sane, budget-oriented people would do. I opened up the freezer door and stared. Then I closed it, and repeated the process with the pantry. And don’t even mention the package of cheese taunting me in the refrigerator, knowing that caving now means regret later. I debated giving up on the notion called dinner but the freezer came calling again, this time remembering Boca Burgers were there along with a frozen hotdog bun, both ready to save the day…er…dinner.

Someday, I will conquer this vegan thing. Someday, I will sauté and steam with the best of them. But until then, heaven help the family. And please, oh pretty pretty please, pass the recipes. And the cooking lessons.

Even the dog knows I need them.