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Marygrace, KIWI intern

I was making my family some brownies the other night and the two of them would have eaten the whole batch if I hadn’t had a sugar intervention.

Here’s where the nickname came in.

I looked over at my daughter and she had a streak of brownie goo which connected her two eyebrows. The resulting name (which I won’t utter in front of her)?

Unibrownie.

I think it’s interesting the way we label everything and everyone. I was uneasy being a vegan mainly because I wasn’t sure I could live up to the regulations associated with the name. Would people judge me for wearing leather shoes? Or scrutinize my beverages? So, I’m not a big fan of labels.

I think that might be the key to something the trendsters are calling green guilt. You try really hard to recycle, compost, reduce waste, carry a water bottle, eat local, eat plants, grow your own…but then you get to the gym and forget the water bottle. Or you jump on a treadmill and feel guilty because the thing is plugged in. It should be the other way around, right? If you pedal, run, step or walk, shouldn’t you be generating electricity?

My green guilt comes from my house, mainly. I am desperate to install solar panels, get rid of my lawn with attractive moss and groundcover, have a huge and bountiful garden (impervious to deer and bunnies), get a new eco-mattress for every bed and ditch the rugs for renewable wood floors. But, it’s not in the budget in the short-term. And, you have to remove things which have to be recycled, disposed of or somehow evaporated.

We do our best.

One edamommy attempts to cut meat out of her life.

I know I am not a full-fledged vegan. I’m still not sure joining TV (Team Vegan) is my ultimate destiny.But, on a non-vegan front, I believe I may have reformed the Reform Judaic Seder at my daughter’s preschool with a decidedly non-vegan move. I was asked to bring hard-boiled eggs to the Seder celebration yesterday and I posed what I thought was a typical question: peeled or unpeeled? Then, I happened to mention to the preschool director that I buy eggs already hardboiled and peeled.Complete silence.“You do what?”Feeling sheepish at my flagrant lack of knowledge of Seder customs, I responded “I buy them already cooked and peeled.”“You can buy them cooked and peeled???” They responded in unison in complete disbelief. “Where, oh where, can we buy these eggs?”

Apparently, making the hardboiled eggs is a major thorn in the side of Seder prep, at least for these two women. Ironically, we attended the children’s Seder and the meal that followed; someone had made their own eggs and they were not cooked all of the way through (Salmonella Seder?). Sometimes it pays to cheat.I have to tackle one other awkward non-vegan/Seder subject. I have to admit something, in addition to the embarrassing habit of choosing theme songs for events in my life (see Day 1).I fall down miserably when it comes to bagel equilibrium. Bagel equilibrium is achieved when you have enough bagels and their accoutrements including cream cheese (I eat with peanut butter now) and broccoli sprouts (more on sprouts later – I married into the broccoli sprout empire so there might be some shameless promotion for www.brassica.com).I always am short of one ingredient—tubs of cream cheese, no bagels, no sprouts; dozen bagels, no cream cheese, 3 boxes of sprouts. You get the picture.So, I finally, finally reached bagel equilibrium and now it’s Passover. No bagels, just matzah for a week.Happy Passover. I hope you achieve unleavened equilibrium.

One edamommy attempts to cut meat out of her life.

I read an article in the New York Times about vegansexuals. That’s a new one. So, pity the poor singletons today who not only have to worry about finding true love, but now they have to make sure they are culinary-compatible. I met my husband when I was 37 and he was 49 and I am soooooo happy that I never had to worry about smelling like meat or worrying that my yogurt addiction was detrimental to my relationship. The article was alarming. Does your date eat some meat, no meat, no eggs, some dairy? Holy cow! Time to get a dog. They don’t care. They lick you when you come home all sweaty from the gym, think the mailman looks scrumptious and think you are agorgeous, intelligent, witty genius.

One quick Google and I see there are many lifestyle-based internet dating sites; I’m talking food orientation. The home page of one of the sites has a couple kissing next to a buffet of vegetable crudités (uh-oh – I spy ranch dressing:. “You’re not a vegan! You lied to me! You probably eat hot wings in your closet. You, you cheatin’ vegan!”)Well, I am shouting it from the mountaintops: I am a vegan (sort of) and I am in love with a bone-afied meat-eater! There. I said it. -“Edamommy” Mary Talalay is a writer for KIWI Magazine