The Vegan Butcher

This weekend Canadians from coast to coast to coast are celebrating Thanksgiving. Here’s a little excerpt from our friends at Wikipedia regarding the Canadian roots of Thanksgiving:

“The origins of the first Thanksgiving in Canada goes back to an explorer, Martin Frobisher, who had been trying to find a northern passage to the Pacific Ocean. Frobisher’s Thanksgiving celebration was not for harvest, but for homecoming. He had safely returned from an unsuccessful search for the Northwest Passage, avoiding the later fate of Henry Hudson and Sir John Franklin. In the year 1578, Frobisher held a formal ceremony in Newfoundland to give thanks for surviving the long journey. Years later, the tradition of a feast would continue as more settlers began to arrive to the Canadian colonies.”

Well, I’m a Londoner now, so technically this week is a homecoming for me, right? Time for a feast?! (more…)

Welcome to the first and (I would say with almost definite certainty) not the last “Drunk Vegan Cooking with Tracy” post!

Since I work seven days a week and all holidays I have very few opportunities to get good ‘n’ drunk nowadays. There have been so few in the last year, in fact, that if you wanted I would be able to name the specific dates and occasions. It’s sad, really.

Anyway, since it’s almost time for me to blow this popsicle stand and move across the pond to Londontown, Jerri and I decided to each book a vacation day and get hammered on a school night. Drunk Tracy and Sober Tracy are similar in that they both love to cook. Where they differ is in their judgment calls and ability to make good choices. This post chronicles that night and those choices. (more…)

I went over to my darling bestie Jerri’s house the other day. The days are getting shorter, the nights chillier, and the summer is clearly dying. Before it gives its final death rattle we wanted to have one last BBQ hurrah. Jerr Bear had a supply of mini hamburgers and mini buns and was going to make mini sliders.

NEEDLESS TO SAY (but you know I’m gonna say it anyway), I got very jealous. I wanted to have mini burgers too! As I sat there grumping Jerri and I came up with a plan: mushroom sliders! If we couldn’t find vegan mini buns we would make our own with cookie cutters and bread! IT WAS ON! (more…)

Have you ever noticed how in the world of the Super Mario Bros. it is the humble mushroom—and not beef or milk or any other animal product—that causes Mario to grow and gain extra life? Yessir, mushrooms are the cat’s pajamas and I buy and consume a lot of them.

So when it came time for “What’s the in Fackin’ Fridge?” Friday, it was three varieties of mushrooms that fell into my arms first. I had a paper bag of hearty portobellos, a container of organic shiitakes, and even dug a couple of button mushrooms (erlack, I HATE them) out of my Mama’s stash. White button mushrooms are stupid and I refuse to eat them, but they met my ends here so I went with it. (more…)

I love soup. Laaaawd, I love it so much. Growing up in the chilly wilds of Cape Breton, soup was one thing (next to moonshine) that could instantaneously warm you from the inside out. It was a comfort.

Something else that comforted me was watching old game shows with my grandparents, who lived with my family when I was growing up. Bringing it back on ’round to soup, a fixture on old game shows like What’s My Line was Soupy Sales. Goodness, how I loved that man. He could always make me laugh. (Speaking of Soupy Sales, there’s a sales agent in my sales department at work that eats soup all the effing time. I can always smell it whilst traipsing past his office, so I’ve taken to calling him Soupy Sales because he’s all soupy and in sales. Because I’m all clever like that. He sure loves having me around.)

I hope y’all are ready for this, because I’m about to share with you my favourite soup recipe of all time. This is The Big One. Get ready. WAIT! I think we need some mood music first. (I have no idea what this song’s lyrics have to say–I think drugs and cockroaches are involved–but it’s called Margaret’s Song and since that is my second name we are going to roll with it.) (more…)

Today it has been two years since my Opa died. He was a nomadic Mennonite man that was born in the Ukraine, and spent time in different parts of Europe before heading to South America after World War II. In Paraguay he met my grandmother, in Brazil they had my mother, and in 1958 they immigrated to Canada. He and my Oma helped raise me from a young age. (more…)

Toad in the Hole? Bubble and Squeak?! ONION GRAVY?!?!? British foods have the best names! In preparation for my move to jolly ol’ England in 6.5 months, I am continuing my British culinary education tonight with some awesomely-named British food.

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