Photo courtesy of the Iowa State Fair
Last month was Iowa’s biggest event of the year, the Iowa State Fair. With midway rides, art and cooking competitions, and dance performances aplenty, the thing that gets people talking year after year is the grease explosion that is fair food. With 57 items available on a stick, including deep-fried Snickers, Milky Way bars, and Twinkies, there are endless food carts from which to harden any arteries one might be deeming too soft. Even political candidates get in on the action, eager to show Iowans how authentic and down-to-earth they are by downing these gut bombs. When asked what keeps regular people heading back to sample these deep fried monsters, the answer is simple: tradition.
It’s an interesting thing, tradition. People hold onto it so tightly, but really, it’s always evolving. The state fair started 158 years ago. While I didn’t have any luck finding out what they were serving in the 1850’s, one thing is for certain – corndogs were not involved. They weren’t invented until the 1920’s. Traditions change. Think about the first Thanksgiving. No Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade on TV. No stuffing, cranberries, pumpkin pie, or mashed potatoes. I’d wager that the pilgrims didn’t even know which teams from the NFL would be playing that day. (The pilgrims and I had that in common.)
Yet, it’s tradition that can be a sticking point when people desire to go vegan. I know when I went vegetarian and then vegan, it was something that concerned me. Plus, it’s not uncommon to hear about someone who wants to make a new lifestyle choice meeting some resistance when it comes to the people who know them best. Whether it’s the drinking buddies of a person who has decided to forgo alcohol or the restaurant aficionados whose friend wants to trade five o’clock tapas for evening bike rides, the people who know us best aren’t always delighted when we want to change our rituals.
When we think of food traditions, for Americans the fourth Thursday in November comes to mind, of course, but also those foods that we share with particular people in our lives plays a part. In my pregan days, I’d have a big box of Hot Tamales at the movies with my cousin. I’d go out for deep fried tacos with my best friend at our local taqueria. In the late evenings while hanging out with my parents, my dad and I would microwave mock crab meat (actually white fish), melt garlic butter, and eat the smelly concoction together, much to the chagrin of my mom who had no interest in the whole affair. So when I stopped eating animals and animal products, there was suddenly an awkward gap of “what now?”
This is my homemade meal from last Thanksgiving: delicata squash, cranberries, green beans, stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy, and seitan.
First I started looking for new traditions. When Thanksgiving rolled around, I sought out vegetarian restaurants in the area, where they were making totally plant-based versions of the classic foods I’d grown up eating. At that point, I had never been to a vegetarian restaurant before. I still remember sitting at the long bar at Follow Your Heart in Canoga Park, California and ordering their Thanksgiving special on the day before the holiday. I read on the menu that their vegetarian feast was an annual event for which people would fly in from around the country. On my packed plate of fall foods, I sampled seitan, also known as wheat meat, for the first time, and it was a revelation. And the gravy? Well, I had no idea that it could be so rich and full-bodied while being totally plant-based. I asked if I could buy some to-go to eat the next day, and the server poured a container-full for me on the house. After that, going to the Follow Your Heart Thanksgiving feast was a yearly tradition.
Then I started volunteering at Animal Acres (now a part of Farm Sanctuary). And Thanksgiving meant spending the days leading up to the holiday with birds who were spared from the event which spells the end for 46 million turkeys in the United States. I’d pet them, find that sweet spot on a turkey, which if scratched actually makes them giggle, and met up with other likeminded people to share food that celebrated the bounty of the season, rather than the misery of those who are slaughtered for it.
With other interpersonal food traditions, it took more time, but it happened. My best friend and I take a yearly trip to the orchard with her husband and kids to pick apples. My dad and I traded out mock crab for vegetable potstickers with tamari dipping sauce. They’re totally different things, but they fulfill the same function. When we share foods with our hands, there’s something tactile and bonding in it. Whether it’s a shared plate of nachos, a spread of Ethiopian wots, or a platter of pita and hummus, when we eat together in that hand-to-mouth way, there’s something very cozy and comforting about it. So potstickers easily fill the bill in that old gap, much to my mom’s approval since she actually likes them. What’s interesting too is that my dad, who didn’t make a dietary change, doesn’t eat the mock crab anymore either for the mere reason that he’s moved on to other things.
Traditions, like so many other things which at first seem like roadblocks when a person goes vegan, eventually smooth out. People adjust. Situations change and new traditions are born.
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Very nice post. I really agree with your feeling on resistance to change from people close to you, from both sides. I think I been the resister as well as the resisted.
Absolutely! It’s only human to be resistant to change sometimes. Just think about how many of us have in the past stayed in jobs that made us unhappy, because the unknown seemed more uncertain. It’s not always easy, but we can never get to where we want to go without first leaving where we are.
Any mention of tradition, reminds me of Zero Mostel and I start singing and doing the hora. I think I dated myself there. TRADITION…tradtion. sorry. I think this Thanksgiving I will just make all vegan stuff on a stick. Love this post, Cadry and your Thanksgiving meal!
Believe it or not, you scored a better song to be in your head than I did. I’ve been stuck with the Hank Williams, Jr. song, Family Tradition, from the late seventies. You’re doing the hora, and I’m line dancing. Yours sounds a lot more festive!
Okay, I love the idea of having Thanksgiving-on-a-stick. I might steal that idea!
I, thankfully, know the Fiddler on the Roof song but not the Hank Williams Jr. song!!
Why does that not surprise me? Consider yourself lucky!
Great post!
Thanks, Bobbie!
We are all looking forward to seeing you and David soon for our annual apple picking adventure! We are counting down the days. I’m laughing out loud imagining Family Tradition being stuck in your head. Let’s add that to our karaoke list.
I’m excited too! I hope there will still be apples on the trees this year.
It’s a Family Tradition… I don’t know if I should be more worried that it’s still in my head after three days or that I know all of the lyrics…
Beautiful. I love the way you put this. Traditions do change. And some can even remain!
My whole family looked at me with excited but sympathetic faces when I presented my Dad with a huge bagful of fresh Cowboy Cookies for his birthday. (My gramma’s recipe, and a family favorite!) “It’s really too bad you can’t eat them, after you made them and all,” the lamented as they all began wolfing down the familiar cookies. When I pointed out that they were made with vegan butter — and tasted exactly the same — they were all shocked. It was a fun moment, showing people that you can have your vegan cookies and eat them too.
Love these posts!
That’s such a good point, Katrina! Some traditions change, some stay the same, and some can easily be tweaked or modified while remaining true to their spirit. I love that you gave your family a chance to try the cookies first with only delicious expectations before revealing that they were, in fact, vegan.
When you look at that Thanksgiving plate above, it doesn’t look altogether different from the plate I would have had in one of my meat eating years. The only difference is ingredients. Plus, the most important part, and the real meaning of almost any holiday, stays the same – family, togetherness, and shared history.
love the post.. it takes a while to figure out why the traditions are there in the first place and then some alternatives just come by! last year my parents celebrated diwali with us and we made all vegan indian sweets. mom was surprised at how easily some things didnt need any dairy and now she tries some of my crazy recipes now and then:)
That’s great, Richa! Another good reminder that it’s easy to tweak old favorites in a way that makes them cruelty-free while still echoing the original. That’s fabulous that your mom tries your recipes!
Love this post, it gives me hope that with enough time my family members will respect my lifestyle! I dream of the day I can host a vegan meal without people feeling like they need to bring meat along.
Thanks, Mel! I hope with time your family will come around too. If they’re toting meat along to one of your dinners, they are really missing out. That must be very disheartening after you work so hard making beautiful food. I think it just takes some people longer than others to realize that “vegan” can mean food that is satisfying, flavorful, and delicious!
What a fantastic post! I never thought about the changes other people have to make and how much food is a part of what we do with loved ones. I love your new traditions. My sister is amazing and has been so wonderful cooking tastey food we can both share. My mother made a wonderful quinoa dish for me but stresses every time I come over. I can’t wait to see what future traditions I have.
Thanks for sharing this.
That’s lovely to hear that your sister has been so accommodating. It makes a person feel very loved when people are so thoughtful. I’m sure with time your mom’s stresses will lessen as she discovers how many foods and easy meals are vegan. Until then, her concern shows how much she cares about you!
I couldn’t agree with you more, Cadry. Everything has an end- even traditions. With every end, comes a new and better beginning, or in this case, a better tradition.
I love that you and your dad found a better tradition that includes your mom in the fun as well.
Well said, Kristy! Like you said, it’s great that this new potsticker tradition is one that includes the whole family!
Well said, Cadry. You’ve described the tradition conundrum and the fact of ever-changing traditions just right. As you’ve noted so beautifully in the illustration with your dad, the traditions surrounding sharing food with others involve more than just food — it’s the people who matter most. This isn’t always apparent, or easy, when we first make lifestyle changes, and can seem alarming. But as we learn to adapt and evolve our traditions, it usually works out in a positive way. In my family, my mother would start cooking chickpeas as soon as she heard I was planning a visit, and that became a tradition whose memory can still bring tears to my eye whenever I think of it.
(At the Wisconsin State Fair, it’s all about cream puffs, though other fried things certainly make their appearances!)
That’s so sweet that your mom started cooking chickpeas as soon as she knew you were planning a visit. It’s that kind of tenderness that makes us feel so understood, welcomed, and cared for!
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This is really great. Have you ever read Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Foer? His last chapter talks about making new traditions and new food memories when turning vegan. Americans are always SO shocked to hear, you won’t eat Turkey even on Thanksgiving?! But you’re right, every family is different and things are always evolving and changing. Thanks for the great post!!
Thanks for your kind words! I haven’t read “Eating Animals,” but I’ve heard universally great things about it. We’re all creatures of habit, and that’s never more clear than when holidays are involved. It can be difficult at first for people to stray from their standards, but this coming Thanksgiving will be my 9th meatless one. Now it feels just as natural and normal as my old habits used to feel.