b's black bean lasagna

My mister is many spectacular things — talented songwriter, MMA fighter, critical thinker, defender of our freedom — but culinary extraordinaire is not one of those things.

This is a man whose weeknight recipe arsenal consists almost wholly of eggs, cans of beans and boiled asparagus. A man who has but two skillets, one pot and zero tongs.

So I was a mixture of thrilled and apprehensive when he so generously offered to cook dinner for me after a long weekend trip to Richmond (where I just so happened to witness a wedding reception in a train station, but that's another story for another day.)

And ladies and gentlemen, the man can cook. Behold, the black bean lasagna:

the layers, oh, the layers.

I must confess a certain amount of dread when I saw how many fat-free cheese packages were being unloaded from his grocery bags, but it didn't matter at all in the end. This mess was awesome.

b's black bean lasagna

1 jar marinara sauce
1 package no-boil lasagna noodles
2 cans of black beans
1 can of kidney beans
1 can of corn
1 container of part-skim ricotta cheese
2 small packages of fat-free cheddar cheese
cumin
oregano
chili powder

Mash all three cans of beans with cumin, chili powder and oregano; mix with corn. Spread across bottom of casserole dish, then layer noodles, ricotta cheese, noodles, marinara sauce and fat-free cheddar. Bake at 375 for 40 minutes. Let rest 10-15 minutes before cutting into slices and arguing about politics while eating dinner in the living room.

Lemon-broccoli linguine with red peppers and cherry tomatoes

I dare say, depriving oneself of meat is difficult. But depriving oneself of pasta is practically inhumane.

For much of last year I was almost entirely Paleolithic -- meaning lots of meat, nuts and veggies, a little bit of fruit, and zero starch. So the best part about this experiment, thus far, is bringing glorious, gluteny carbs back into my life. I'm sure I'll probably be eating my words five pounds from now...

hello, lover.

ingredients:

linguine

white wine

various herbs (oregano, basil, thyme, salt & pepper)

broccoli

red bell peppers

cherry tomatoes

lemon

garlic

onions

parmesan cheese

Sautee sliced onions, red peppers, garlic, tomatoes and broccoli while pasta is cooking. Deglaze pan with white wine, add juice of one lemon, season with herbs, salt and pepper (add crushed red pepper if you like it spicy). Drain pasta and toss with sauce and a shameless handful of parmesan cheese.

How to pack a non-soggified salad

We've all been there -- you're trying to be good. You pack a salad for work. The dressing defiles the lettuce and what was once crisp romaine is suddenly soggy soup. Gross.

You could pack the vinaigrette separately...if you're a sucker. Or, if you're awesome, you could do this:

Shake well. (duh)

From the bottom-up: dressing, shredded carrots, red cabbage, hard-boiled eggs, parmesan cheese, cherry tomatoes, cracked black pepper, spring mix & romaine.

Runspiration: the Southern rock in your step

For most people, rap and techno are the primary genres that come to mind when populating a running playlist. But nothing keeps my motor running better than a long, loud, lovely guitar solo.

On this most beautiful of spring afternoons, consider fueling your run instead with these solo-heavy songs, brought to you by none other than the one and only epic, unmatchable Allman Brothers Band.

zucchini and squash salad with roasted garlic and parmesan cheese

Borne out of necessity due to an overstocked fridge, and just in time for this early spring. This would be beautiful with red bell peppers but I had none. Good luck to all the rock 'n' roll marathon runners and happy St. Patrick’s day! 

pardon the messiness of the bowl.

Ingredients:
1 zucchini
1 squash
extra virgin olive oil
salt & pepper
3 whole garlic cloves
red wine vinegar
shredded parmigiano-reggiano


Preheat oven to 425. Toss sliced zucchini and squash in olive oil, salt and pepper and spread in single layer on baking sheet. Wrap whole, unpeeled garlic cloves in aluminum foil; roast veggies and wrapped garlic for 35 minutes.


Squeeze pulp from garlic cloves into a few good-sized dashes of vinegar, toss in some herbs and whisk in some olive oil. Toss dressing with veggies and sprinkle with cheese. And when I say sprinkle, I mean cover. 

In which I survive two happy hours without faltering

If ever there were a time to fail on my mission, tonight would have been it.

The setting was lively and collegial; two major NCAA upsets had the sports fans at Old Ebbitt all riled up and rowdy. My inhibitions were at their absolute lowest after three drinks and a particularly strenuous workout. And one of my all-time favorite foods — wings — was being passed around like a loaded bong at Bonnaroo.

I can only attribute my resolve to the wonder that is this glorious libation:

Alice in Wonderland wouldn't have stood a chance against this.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, that is a Samoa cookie martini. Samoa. Cookie. Martini. Like the Girl Scout cookie made all kinds of grown-up delicious, liquified, bourbonized and crusted with toasted coconut. Were it not for this cold and lovely treat distracting my senses, I'd likely have been unable to withstand the scent of vinegary, piping hot wing sauce. After indulging in this potion I found myself humming with just the buzz I needed to stroll four blocks out of the way and gaze sentimentally at the White House on my way home.

Last night's happy hour was a wildly different story. Two sauvignon blancs, two Coronas and two shots of Jameson is definitely not a recipe for a fledgling vegetarian's success. I can only attribute that resolve to my inability to make food go into my mouth before passing out. But hey — means and ends, amirite?

Runspiration: The perfect song for that perfect mile

You know the mile. That marvelous mile along your favorite beach, around your favorite monument, at the foot of your favorite mountain. The mile that goes by in the blink of an eye and six swift breaths; the mile that makes you smile. The mile in which you can feel the stress streaming like rain from your weary pores, pouring down your tensed temples, tempting you to run till your legs melt away.

This mile, for me, happens by the banks of the Potomac River, across from the Washington monument and the Jefferson memorial, the cherry blossoms and the tidal basin, the occasionally awe-inspiring vision that is the District of Columbia. The song for this scene isn't rap or techno; it doesn't have a quick beat or a fast pace or a single power chord. It, instead, resonates of gratitude and fulfillment, sounds like euphoria and feels like pure freedom.

The first supper

My original plan to begin the vegetarian experiment tomorrow was thwarted by tonight's dinnertime arrival of my non-meat-eating boyfriend. There's no time like the present, right? And since I already had a fully stocked cupboard, and the universe saw fit to bless the D.C. metro area with a 75-degree evening, it seemed like the perfect night to test-run my recipe for spicy black bean burgers with sweet potato fries and avocado cream cheese dip.

Black bean burgers, sweet potato fries and creamy avocado dip.

I had trouble getting the dip to blend smoothly — partially due to the fact that there wasn't enough liquid and partially due to the fact that my brandnameless blender cost less than $25. Genius B came up with the idea to add some lemon juice, which mercifully gave the dip a zing that yinned the sweetness of the oven fries' yang.

The burgers were so easy to make — aside from mashing the beans, it was essentially identical to the process for making a beef burger (minus the E.coli contamination potential). And good gracious Lord were these cheap...probably around the fourth of the cost of making regular burgers. So far, so good.

We housed these beetches on my balcony, gazing out over the city with a few cold beers and talkin' 'bout deep life things like Family Guy. The end of the episode we watched clipped a Conway Twitty classic that strummed the chords in my heart for Texas, and reminded me of how homesick I truly am, and always will be, so long as I am away from the rolling plains, the hot days, the cool nights, the Shiner Bock and the big, bright stars. You can take the girl out of Texas, but you can never take Texas out of the girl...

black bean burgers

1 (16 ounce) can black beans, drained and rinsed

1/2 green bell pepper, cut into 2 inch pieces

1/2 onion, cut into wedges

3 cloves garlic, peeled

1 egg

1 tablespoon chili powder

1 tablespoon cumin

1 teaspoon Thai chili sauce or hot sauce

1/2 cup bread crumbs

I added some Penzey's Arizona spices (big thanks to my homegirl for bringin' em back for me), some red bell pepper, and, of course, Sriracha...couldn't call myself a true Asian without adding at least a few good-sized dashes.

Directions

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F (190 degrees C), and lightly oil a baking sheet.

Mash black beans with a fork until thick and pasty.

Finely chop bell pepper, onion, and garlic, stir into mashed beans.

Whisk together egg, chili powder, cumin, and chili sauce.

Stir egg mixture into beans, mix in bread crumbs until the mixture holds together, divide into four patties.

Place patties on baking sheet and bake about 10 minutes on each side.

Sweet potato fries with avocado cream cheese dip (adapted from a Food Network recipe)

2 large sweet potatoes, peeled or unpeeled, cut into 4-inch long and 1/4 to 1/2-inch thick fries

2 tablespoons olive oil, or more as needed

1 teaspoon paprika

1/2 teaspoon chili powder

1/2 teaspoon ground coriander

Coarse ground rock salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Avocado Dip, recipe follows

Directions

Preheat your oven to 450 degrees F. Line a baking sheet with aluminum foil and set aside.

Place the sweet potatoes in a large bowl and toss with olive oil until the sweet potatoes are coated. Add the paprika, chili powder, coriander, salt, and pepper; toss to distribute evenly.

Arrange the coated fries in a single layer on the prepared pan. Bake for 20 minutes on the lower rack until the sweet potatoes soften. Transfer the pan to the upper rack of the oven and bake 10 minutes longer, until fries are crispy. Serve with Avocado Dip.

Avocado Dip:

1 avocado

1/3 cup mayonnaise (I use olive oil reduced fat kind)

1/3 cup reduced fat chive & onion cream cheese

2 scallions, white and light green part only, chopped

1 lime, juiced

1 lemon, juiced

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Blend the avocado, mayonnaise, cream cheese, jalapeno, scallions, and lime juice, season with salt and pepper.

SERVE WITH COLD BEERS.

Runspiration: the seven-mile Jack White edition

I am pretty far from being a White Stripes fan; I find Jack White, while talented, wildly overrated. (Especially by the leagues of idiots who irreverently compare him to Jimmy Page. What is wrong with you people?)

All that aside, this song is one of the best running songs ever, ever, ever. It reignited my juices for the last two miles of my run today, which a wise man once said are always the toughest no matter how much distance you're laying down. Rock out, flail your arms and fly. 

[Note: Could not find official music video. For shame.]

The beginning of the end.

The end of my lifelong career as a carnivore, that is.

From mid-March to mid-April, I will forgo any and all chicken, beef, pork, turkey, venison, duck, goose and so on and so forth. It's not that long a time frame, but spending the vast majority of my life in Texas has fostered a strong affinity -- an addiction is more like it -- for all things barbecued, burgered and baconated.

Why: There are a host of reasons, not the least of which being dietary. I seem to find that the older I get (the exact number shall remain unspecified) the more meat seems to sap my energy. Vegetarianism is more cost-efficient, more environmentally friendly and far less guilt-inducing (cows are just too dang adorable with their big brown eyes and furry ears).

The Rules

• Absolutely no meat. From midnight March 15 to midnight April 15. The one exception will be allowing fish, only in restaurants and only in truly desperate situations.
• Protein replacement at every meal. Eggs, beans, tofu, seitan...wide open to suggestions. 
• Workout maintenance. In order to wholly assess the impact of this lifestyle change, all exercise habits and lengths must remain at their current level of time and intensity.

A Texan without meat is like a preacher without a Bible. Hence the hullabaloo, the utter and all-consuming dread, and, of course, this blog, where I'll post recipes, updates and stories from what is sure to be a very (to put it politely) interesting journey. 

It's an experiment I've contemplated undertaking for quite some time now, but only recently have been inspired to move forward with, when a dear friend pointed out how cavalierly we slaughter and devour other mammals. "But they're delicious," I replied, and though that'd worked as justification for many years up 'til now, it no longer struck a chord. 

I don't expect to be perfect. I just expect to accomplish this thing -- this thing which, in the grand scheme of things, is not that big of a thing. It certainly won't be the hardest thing I've ever done, my stunning lack of impulse control be damned, but it might be the most sweeping nutritional change I've yet made. And it's certainly not forever, either -- once my month is up and I assess my state of being, I may wind up with a rack of ribs in my lap. So please send me your advice, recipes and other ideas on transitioning. I could really use y'all's help!