vegansaurus!

So I talked about Panhandle Pizza yesterday which is more of a traditional itsanice pizzzapie (that’s Italian for “nice pizza pie”) and today we are going to cross the globe (actually, we’re going vertical across the globe, I think. I’m no linguist) to EXOTIC and MYSTERIOUS India, land of Bollywood and Mohinder. Zante Indian Restaurant and Pizzeria is fucking great. They incorporate two of my favorites, pizza and Indian food, into one mega-food: THE INDIAN PIZZA. It’s basically Indian food on a regular pizza crust. It’s not naan, as some people suggest, it’s actual thin-crust pizza. They also make isanice pizzzapie but why fuck with that nonsense when you can get delicious INDIAN PIZZA?! Save yourself the trouble of thinking and order The Best Indian Pizza, Vegan, which comes topped with spinach, eggplant, cauliflower, ginger, garlic, green onions and cilantro. It’s magical. Even if that doesn’t sound good to you, it will taste good to you. You can also order other kinds of indian food if you’re feeling unadventurous and lame. The samosas are pretty good.

You can eat in or call in an order for delivery OR you can order online at their site (they deliver ANYWHERE in the city!) but please note, the delivery will most likely take twice as long as they quote. It’s because they’re on Indian time. WHAT? AM I NOT RIGHT? IN ADDITION TO BEING A HUGE RACIST? Whatever, I can say that because I did it with an Indian dude once so I think that makes me an expert on all things Indian, OK? Also, one of my best friends is Indian. Or Mexican. Actually, I’m not sure. Her name is Anna but she’s an engineer—VERY CONFUSING. And she’s cheap and drives an El Camino. I mean, I honestly don’t know.

I could do this all night.

[photo via yelp]

A while ago, inspired by some of the pro-anorexia sicko talk threads that I compulsively read, I decided that I’m too fat to live. When bitches who are one-tenth your size are exchanging crash diet tips, it can have that affect on you. Anyway, someone listed a recipe for cabbage soup diet that is supposed to “clean you out” and “make you feel great.” Because I want to be cleaned out and also to feel great and mainly because I have low self-esteem, I decide to try this cabbage soup diet for a couple days. The other reason is that I obviously hate myself. I can think of no other excuse as to why someone would do this to themselves. I am fat and unworthy. Right, ladies? I mean, a multi-billion-dollar business is made off our self-hatred so I’m game! Let’s DO THIS! Seventy-three pounds or BUST!

My eating day went like this:
5:45 a.m. - Wake up! Ready to be cleaned out and feel GREAT! am excited to take on the day!

6 a.m. - Cabbage soup.
(6:15 a.m. - Stomach hurts and am actively upset at myself and those around me. Have murderous thoughts.)

7 a.m. - Cabbage soup.
(7:15 a.m. - Am thinking about how I am a modern-day Oliver Twist. Please sir, may I have some more? Am sad that in this day and age of amazing food, i am choosing to eat like pathetic Dickensian tramp. Am shocked that other women who want to lose those “last 10 pounds” would subject themselves to something so psychotic. Guess what ladies, ain’t nobody notice those 10 pounds anyway! YOU LOOK EXACTLY THE SAME and don’t nobody care! Your man is probably boning your fat best friend anyway! Clearly, I am still murderous.)

10 a.m. - Cabbage soup.
(10:15 a.m. - Conference call from hell that almost left me fired. Coincidence?)

12 p.m. - Cabbage soup.
(12:15 p.m. - Dry-heaving over a toilet because of disgusting cabbage soup. Cabbage soup is worse than water torture. Or being sodomized with a paddle made of hedgehogs.)

1 p.m. - Cabbage soup.
(1:15 p.m. - Have very bad farts from cabbage soup that clear out two desks around me and make me lose my appetite. I think this is a good thing. Hate my coworkers anyway.)

2 p.m. - Cabbage soup.
(2:15 p.m. - All I can think about are suicide scenarios and not eating cabbage soup ever again. I still have about 10 gallons left. Want to die. I am fat.)
(2:30 p.m. - Crying in a corner.)
(2:33 p.m. - Make a death threat against a coworker for “breathing too loudly”)
(2:40 p.m. - Crying in a bathroom stall)
(2:45 p.m. - The shakes have set in. I’m so hungry. I’m so, so hungry. I’m sad.)

3 p.m. - Order entire extra-large soy cheese cornmeal crust everything veggie pizza from Panhandle Pizza.
(3:30 p.m. - Eat chocolate bar while waiting for pizza.)
(3:35 p.m. - Feel guilty about chocolate, eat more cabbage soup.)
(3:45 p.m. - Fuck this noise, where the fuck is my pizza, I will eat my own hand!!!! Eat another candy bar given to me earlier by scared coworker.)

4 p.m. - Pizza arrives. Eat entire pizza. I am in heaven. It’s the best pizza ever A+++++ BEST QUALITY WILL DO BUSINESS AGAIN.
(4:05 p.m. - Pour cabbage soup down drain.)
(4:15 p.m. - Fat and happy.)

Moral of the story: stay the fuck off of internet talk threads. And though it’s not the perfect vegan pizza, it is a vegan pizza. And it still felt relatively healthy because of all the veggies, soy cheese and delicious cornmeal crust. I’m a fat. I meant, fan. I’m a fan.

Some notes: They use Follow Your Heart mozzarella and they use it sparingly, which I like. Even if you are not a fan of the veggie pizza because you don’t like mushrooms, olives, peppers, insert objectionable vegetable here, I still strongly suggest getting it. It’s way better than any of the other pizzas and I normally can’t stand mushrooms; they are the devil that grows from the ground. As far as delivery boundaries go, it really depends on who you talk to and what kind of mood they’re in. Sometimes they will deliver to the entire city, sometimes not. You can also eat in (there are a few table and chairs) or get a pizza to go and sit in the Panhandle of Golden Gate Park. Itsanice (that’s Italian for, “it’s nice!”)!

[photo via yelp]

Flacos is an all-vegan Mexican food cart that is at many of the Berkeley Farmers’ Markets!

Did you hear me? I SAID, ALL-VEGAN MEXICAN FOOD!!!

Taquitos, enchiladas, chicken pozole (a hominy-and-veggie-chicken stew of sorts, YOU MUST EAT THIS), tamales, MOTHERTRUCKING CHALUPAS! I’m running for the border, bitches! What?!

Flacos uses all-organic, local ingredients whenever possible and lists their vendors on the website. I love knowing exactly where my food is coming from and that it’s not coming from Monsanto or some shit. But the best part about Flacos is that the food is INSANE. My favorite is the veggie-chicken tamales with homemade sauce, capers, green olives and potatoes inside corn masa and steamed in a banana leaf! It’s truly enough to bring tears to this vegan’s eye. Which is sad because I haven’t cried because of my own emotions in something like five years. But I’ll save that for therapy, not my blog. OR WILL I? Only time will tell, therapy is expensive and this blog is free! Prepare to know more about my mom than you do about yourself.

Anyway, Flacos would be on my I-only-have-24-hours-to-spend-in-the-East-Bay-because-I-don’t-know-maybe-someone-has-a-gun-to-my-head-and-I-have-to-get-out-of-town-really-fast list. So if you actually live in the Bay Area, there’s no reason why you’re not at Flacos right now. I DON’T CARE IF THEY’RE NOT OPEN! I SAID NO EXCUSE!*

*Ignore me, please.

[photo via Flacos]

[Update: This is Laura’s initial review of Ike’s Place. Here is the most current news on Ike’s Place.]

First of all, it looks like the awesome sandwich above the entrance to Ike’s is comin’ to GETCHA. Talk about turning the tables! You go, sandwich! Wait, I meant: THE JOKE IS ON YOU SANDWICH BECAUSE I WILL BE EATING YOUR SANDWICH ASS. AND ALSO YOUR SANDWICH HEAD AND BODY. NEVER MIND.

B: Ike’s has more vegan sandwiches than you shake a sandwich at! With more to come! The Vegan Tony Soprano (it’s a fake-meat-and-cheese FEAST), the Vegan Coming Home for Thanksgiving (turkey and cranberry!) and the Vegan Backstabber (turkey, marinated artichoke hearts, garlic and herb sauce and TEESE!)

Thirdly: I really hate the word “sammich.” Stop it. It makes me think you were molested as a child and stopped mentally progressing from that point on and most likely talk in a creepy high-pitched baby voice—anyone else think that?

IV: THE VEGAN MEATLESS MIKE MEATBALL SUB + GUILT-FREE FRIES WITH BBQ SAUCE WILL MAKE YOU RECONSIDER YOUR NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTION TO NOT DATE SANDWICHES ANYMORE. I mean, eat. NOT EAT SANDWICHES ANYMORE. It was so meaty, I almost asked to be led to the cow it came from so I could be all, “GOTCHA!” and then puke the dead animal all over them. But it was not, it was real live fake meat and it was magical.

W: Ike, his ADORABLE mom, and his sandwich-making partners in crime are super-friendly and make excellent suggestions and, as always, it feels so great to support a small, local business where the quality is high, the prices are low and the signage is AMAZING.

AND I TO YOU IN ADDITION AS WELL: Blow me, Subway. Seriously, fuck you and your no-vegan-sandwich-having asses and your corporate drudgery and I know if you were a human, you’d totally vote for Huckabee and drive a Ford Explorer and jerk it to child porn. AND DON’T GET ME STARTED ON TOGO’S!!!!

P.S. LOGISTICAL INFO: There no tables inside and very few outside so it’s not ideal to eat here. Phone in your sandwich orders ahead of time (the wait can be a bitch). What I like to do is phone in about a half hour ahead of time, swing by and get my sandwich and then head to Dolores Park, a nearby bar (there are quite a few on Market Street), or my couch (preferred, obviously) to enjoy the deliciousness!

[photo by frankfarm]

Central Vegetarian is a new vegetarian/vegan restaurant on Park Street, the main drag in Alameda, a tropical isle of dreams located on the idyllic SF Bay, a.k.a. The Biggest Little City on Earth. I grew up on The Island, and finding ONE restaurant with even ONE vegan item on its menu is like trying to figure out how Star Jones gets out of bed in the morning instead of just killing herself. It’s like Labyrinth, bitches. Next to impossible. However, with the opening of Central Vegetarian, we have a player in the game, folks! With a menu that is nearly identical to Golden Era in San Francisco and Golden Lotus in Oakland, you can’t help but believe this is a Supreme Master Ching Hai Enterprise.* And it is: the chef/owner used to work in the kitchen at Golden Lotus but then realized she was hell of in a cult and jumped ship, taking the recipes with her! You go, girl!

The menu is mainly Vietnamese but there are some Chinese and Thai dishes. If you’re not a moron, you will order any of the clay pots, CARAMELIZED CHICKEN (!!!), spicy gourmet chicken (!!!) and the veggie chow fun. It’s cheap, filling and delicious. A VERY VERY VERY welcome addition to the prestigious Alameda eating scene. It takes its place alongside Subway and Applebee’s to complete the trifecta of Alameda Power Eating (APE). Watch your back, Gary Danko; APE is coming to get you and what we lack in deliciousness, we make up for in knife fights.

*God, I love that crazy bitch. She doesn’t believe in alcohol, drugs, sex, meat or happiness. Obviously, I’m down. With most of it. I mean one thing of it.

[photo via yelp]

I don’t care what your politics are, this bitch is seriously whack. And the opposite of vegan. Pit Bulls against Palin is a pretty adorable site, made even more adorable by the fact that their spokesbully looks a lot like my very first rescue dog ever, Pee Wee.

In other news, I still want to do it with Dennis Kucinich (call me!).

Update: the URL is no more, but they do have a Facebook group!
[photo via Pitbulls against Palin]

This morning I was not working and instead G-Chatting (I call this, “doing how I do”) with my very handsome and extremely talented and sometimes grumpy boyfriend about what restaurant I should blog about next. He suggested I just get Herbivore out of the way. That feels like an appropriate way to put it. Blogging about this Bay Area vegan restaurant institution (three locations now!) is something that is necessary but not super-exciting. Kinda like eating there. GO FIGURE.

OK, here’s the deal with Herbivore. It’s all-vegan and they serve from 9 a.m. to 10 p.m. every day, so you can count on them for breakfast, brunch, lunch, dinner, and dessert. In a city where most restaurants are open for about two hours a day and closed for one of those hours, that’s a pretty novel thing. The food for the most part is serviceable and sometimes even good, just don’t order anything too complicated. Stick to the tofu and seitan sandwiches (even the shawarma wrap is good, especially the fairly new chicken shawarma wrap—probably the best thing on the menu) and you’ll be just fine. It’s the people who branch out, expecting more from the menu, who get screwed. Fools. IMHO (recently learned that this meant, “In My Humble Opinion, Asshole!”), if you order pad Thai at Herbivore, you’re stupid and deserve a subpar meal. You’re not in Duluth anymore! What? Is your name Billy Bob Ray Jack and do you and your girlfriend-sister and her three teeth work at The Feed Bag in Deer Gulch Junction? If you want Thai food, go to one of the 100 awesome Thai restaurants within a block of wherever you are in SF, you hillbilly dum dum!* My rule of thumb is if it sounds even SLIGHTLY “ethnic” (except for Mediterranean. Actually, scratch that, the falafel is crap), stay away from it. As for everything else, it’s not super-SUPER-great and there is WAY better vegan food out there,** but it sure is nice to have a place that’s all-vegan, and to know that none of your money is going to buy dead animals or tortured-animal by-products. Oh! If you go for breakfast, get the banana bread! It is toasted and served with Earth Balance! Deeeelicious! And for dessert, don’t miss Maggie Mudd ice cream and any of the shakes (which are TOTALLY different than their warm, gross-out smoothies, STAY AWAY FROM THOSE)!

*I don’t know, I just really hate hillbillies. It’s almost unnatural, I don’t even know why. It’s not like a hillbilly killed my mom or anything BUT MAN IF ONE DID I WOULD BE SO MAD!!!***
**Interestingly enough, it seems omnivores enjoy Herbivore better than we veggies do. I think it’s because they think vegan food is usually tree topped with dirt sauce so they’re pleasantly surprised when their meal doesn’t taste like patchouli-scented armpit hair.
***Clearly, no idea what I’m talking about at this point or if this even works, grammatically.

[photo via yelp]

First off, they have a vegan cupcake here. It’s chocolate. It’s the size of a walnut. It costs $6. Do with that information what you will, but listen now and hear me later: a cupcake that costs more than a call girl should fucking do something nice for you. Like tell you you’re pretty while doing your taxes and giving you magical powers. Oh, and taste MOTHERFUCKING DELICIOUS. This cupcake did none of those things. One demerit.

Other than that, the veggie and vegan options are clearly marked on the menu and they are plentiful. They even have a vegan Thai iced tea! Most of the meals are centered around a certain type of cuisine—Japanese, Indian, Russian (I KNOW, WTF?!), etc.—or you can order small plates and teas à la carte. It’s a bit pricey for the amount of food you get, but I’ve always been quantity over quality so there you go. I mean, I’d rather have a bucket of pasta—literally, an entire bucket. Like the kind you usually put a mop in. Filled with pasta—than one AMAZING ravioli. I guess you could tell that much by looking at me so A) fuck you for judging me and B) fuck that ravioli and fuck those bitches who take one bite of that ravioli and are like, “This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten!” Well, bitch, that is because you haven’t eaten since the Clinton Administration (those were the days!). I have no time for you or your skinny-ass antics. Seriously, I want to send you all to Jurassic Park to be eaten by dinosaurs like in the documentary.

Get more info on Samovar and its two locations here. Adding links is pretty fun.

[photo via yelp]

Café Gratitude is vegan, it’s raw, it’s fucking cheesy and you have to say shit like, “I am eternally blessed with happiness and vibrancy and the richness of my cup overfloweth with bounty.” But I say, go with it. In fact, fucking embrace it. Be all, “I’m a white-hot mess of insanity and I love every crazy-ass minute in this bizarre land of happy, privileged white folks with dreads and LA LA LA I’m a centaur and you are my forest nymphs and we will drop acid and eat at Café Gratitude and be totally 100 percent out of it and contented smile love peace rainbows of happiness!” DO IT TO IT! Own the crazytown that is this place and you will fucking love it. Because the food is GOOD and it’s so clean and healthy that you won’t feel like total crap afterward.

The shakes (the “I am eternally blessed” coffee shake is the best thing I’ve ever had EVER) and desserts (you must get the key lime pie! UGH SO GOOD!) are RIDICULOUS. I mean, they are in a league of their own; I’ve never had something so rich, creamy or delicious, and this goes for before I was vegan too. Instead of going into Café Gratitude with a skeptic’s eye, I say, come in here with your bed-head ratty hair, a skirt worn over pants (Laura’s ultimate fashion no-no but if you’re gonna do it, there will be no half-assing it. This goes for men too: skirts are not just for women at Café Gratitude), and if you have them, stilts. Hippies love stilts for some reason. Clown makeup is optional but encouraged. If you can let yourself completely go with the hippie-dippy shit, you will really have a great time, eating surprisingly yummy food and possibly “enjoying” group sex with some of the staff/communal-table-sharers. After all, these are hippies, and if there is one thing that hippies like better than not showering, it’s group sex (bonus points if it’s in a co-op’s hot tub) (I’m gonna throw up).

N.B.: Don’t take your uptight parents here. Especially if they’re already annoyed that you’re vegan and think all vegans are freaky weirdos. It will not go well, trust me.  Uptight parents and hippie love gods who share tables and conversations and tell each other that they are beautiful magical fairies worthy of love and happiness DO NOT MIX. My dad does not believe that you are worthy of love and/or happiness. He does not acknowledge your specialness and in fact, probably hates you for thinking you’re special. Also, he thinks you have an odor containment issue (which you do).

[mural photo by Naked Jen; key lime pie photo by mswine]

It’s about FASHION! Runway! Glamour! Magic!

Anyhow, this cool new website/company/group of people who are apparently made of money and good will, Vaute Couture, is sponsoring a vegan coat design contest. Three lucky winners (there is some sort of voting process involving the public or a panel or experts or something, I skimmed so don’t look at me for facts!) will get $1,000 and have their designs made and sold on the site! Even better, the money from the sales of the coats will go to Farm Sanctuary! I don’t know how these Vaute Couture fools are swinging such an amazing deal but damn, I wish I had any kind of talent because I would be designing something right now. Actually, maybe I’ll submit a coat that makes the wearer look like a penguin? Or a rhino? Or a penguin-rhino? Let’s face it, I’ve got this in the bag!

July 26 2009: BEST MOST HAPPY NEWS: SOULEY VEGAN HAS RE-OPENED: 301 Broadway at 3rd Street in Oakland. Open Tuesday through Saturday, 11 a.m. to 9 p.m.! YES!!!

BETTER HAPPIER NEWS: Souley Vegan is now on sale at Rainbow Grocery in SF! Ow! They’re selling red beans & rice, collard greens, mac ‘n cheese, BBQ tofu, and full meals, ranging in price from $4.29 to $9.99! Completely worth it!

BAD SAD NEWS: Souley Vegan has shut their doors permanently. I guess some shit went down with the stability of their building so unless some rich vegan (you?!) gives them tons of money, they will stay closed. Super sad. Bright side: they still sell at the farmers’ market in Oakland on the weekends so for sure stop in and buy their delicious food and let them know that we will raise funds and fists to get them back into a storefront!!

Souley Vegan is vegan soul food. I know, the name is kinda lame. What can you do? Not every place can be named “Magical Unicorn Palace” like it should be. I don’t know why exactly. Anyway, Souley Vegan is family-owned-and-operated with mom in back cooking, dad helping to run food and the adorable, almost-competent son as the cashier. He is very adorable and ALMOST good at working. Whatever, the kid is like 12 and has a more demanding job than I’ve ever had so I’ll cut him some slack. I just had a minor personality split right there. Pray for me.

The menu consists of BBQ tofu, crispy tofu, yams, collard greens, MAC ‘N CHEESE, POTATO SALAD and MASHED POTATOES (the holy trinity of hard-to-find vegan foods! I hear angels weeping! Or singing! Which is it, I don’t understand religion!) Homemade drinks like ginger-strawberry lemonade (SO GOOD) and usually a peach cobbler in the cold case (they will heat it up for if you eat there!). No alcohol but you can go next door to Radio if you need a drink to get through the day, I’m not judging you!*

The only thing I could see someone complaining about is the ambiance, which resembles the mess tent in M.A.S.H. I guess I wouldn’t recommend this place for a first date or to impress your parents. Unless your dad is a major cheapskate like mine and has an entire storage unit in his closet to store all the various shampoos and shower caps he takes from hotels (read: motels) so that he never has to buy toiletries and therefore, save a measly buck.**

Oh and one more bit of advice: I would call ahead to make sure they are open!  Although their hours are supposed to be Tuesday through Saturday, 11 a.m. to 9 p.m., I’ve been by during those hours, only to be forced to “eat” a soy latte at the cafe next door for lunch! Not cool!

*You are pathetic!
**UGH IT KILLS ME! DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY AMAZING DYE JOBS WERE RUINED DURING MY YOUTH BECAUSE I HAD TO USE SUPER-8-BRAND SHAMPOO?! THAT IS BASICALLY LIKE WASHING YOUR HAIR WITH PAINT THINNER UGH!

UPDATE: Now open for brunch on Sundays! Pancakes, tofu scrambles, potatoes and sausage are all available… plus rumors of biscuits and gravy!?

[photo via yelp]

Lahore Karahi. What to say. It’s not much to look at and it’s located where dreams go to die but this place is off the motherflipping CHAIN. Do yourself a favor and put something on you don’t mind smelling like Pakistani food for the rest of its life and get your ass over to this place. Forget about all the other Indian-Pakistani places you think are great because the food is cheap and the health code violations are plentiful, because this place is cheaper and the health code violations are probably more egregious (it’s more authentic that way! and honestly, if you ever eat out in a city, you just have to assume your meal is made up of 10 percent rat hair).

If you’re not a moron, you’ll order the vegetable sabzi. It. is. AMAZING. Not oily at all and full of delicious Pakistani flavor. The rice is something magical and the roti (with sesame seeds! delightful touch!) is INSANE. I mean, that bread will physically get up and knock you over being all, “Bitch, I am delicious!” Pretty much everything vegetarian on the menu can be made vegan, just ask! The guy who takes your order isn’t a jerk so much as he likes to GET THINGS DONE. ON HIS TERMS. Whatever, just roll with it, you ain’t got nowhere better to be. Because there is nowhere better to be.

IT IS IMPERATIVE that you come here with people you don’t mind spending time with; the wait for food can sometimes be intense. However, as soon as the food comes, you won’t have time to talk: you’ll be stuffing your face! Your internal monologue will be all, “FUCK WORDS! THIS MOUTH IS FOR EATING!”

Honestly, I wanted to bust into song after this meal. Unfortunately that song was Ludacris’ “Area Codes,” and that is not a song you want to sing in the Tenderloin, for fear of being confused with an actual pimp.

[photo via yelp]

When I die, I want to be mummified in a gigantic* mochi from Benkyodo. Wrap me in that sweet rice dough and throw me into the ground. SO I CAN EAT MY WAY OUT.  What—you thought I was just gonna die?  Bitches, please. I’m gonna fucking come back as the hottest, most awesome zombie you ever saw. First, I’m gonna eat my mochi bodysuit, and then I’m gonna move on to the entire city of San Francisco and I’m not going to stop until I eat the brains of every last one of you faux-liberal fascist asshole pieces of shit. I might be vegan but I am done with you chumps and anyway, I heard human brains taste like strawberry shortcake and I fucking LOVE strawberry shortcake. It is delicious.

*I think I am a size 18W in mochi.

[mochi photo via yelp]

There was once a time I was so desperate for good-tasting vegan baked goods that I WOULD ORDER THEM FROM WASHINGTON, D.C. That is correct. I would pay around $60 to have some bear claws sent to me from Sticky Fingers Bakery in our nation’s capital. It was the worst of times.

But that was horrible then and this is wonderful now because now SF has its very own vegan bakery, Sugar Beat Sweets!  It’s a brand-new, all-vegan, woman-owned bakery that uses fair-trade, organic and local ingredients whenever possible. I’m telling you, if I had to lie through my teeth one more time about how most vegan goods are just as good as their butter- and dairy-filled counterparts, I would be forced to stick my head in an oven. To eat the cake that’s inside. I ain’t going nowhere, bitches! But also, I would continue to feel bad about lying, and cheated that there aren’t that many equally delicious dessert offerings for us vegans. HOWEVER, with the advent of Sugar Beat Sweets and its amazing cakes, cupcakes, cookies and more, I no longer have to lie! About vegan baked goods! I will continue to lie about everything else! The sweet, sweet baked goods from SBS are RIDICULOUS. My birthday cake this year came from SBS, and even my father—who prefers his food made with pig’s blood and baby tears—was blown away. He actually thought I was cheating at being vegan (that’s my favorite, like it’s some fad diet that I get to be “bad” about on the weekends or some shit. GOD I REALLY HATE THAT) and had ordered a non-vegan cake. I think he was more proud than the day I graduated college. When I told him it was vegan, he was visibly disappointed and drowned his sorrows in two more slices. I actually think that cake had some special powers because since then my dad has been less weird about my veganism (pronounced “vay-gun-ism”) and more weird about the fact that my life is going nowhere and I’m dead broke and will wind up dead in a gutter, half-eaten by wolves. Also, that would kinda rule because it would mean that San Francisco would be overrun by wolves and they are my people. I’m pretty sure we would be good friends before they ate me.

PLEASE TO NOTE: Sugar Beat Sweets doesn’t have a storefront (YET! BUY LOTS OF BAKED GOODS SO THAT I CAN CLIMB INSIDE THE PASTRY CASES!) so you have to custom-order through the website.

No, this is not some incredibly hot gay porn (but if it is, please let me know! Gay porn is the hottest porn!) but instead, a vegan sausage cart run by two permit-eschewing vigilantes and their fat dog in San Francisco’s Dolores Park on the weekends. You get a hot Field Roast sausage in a yummy organic bun, homemade condiments, and Kettle Chips for $5. They also have really fantastic homemade lemonade and sometimes, cookies(!!!). They are in Dolores Park, near 18th and Dolores Streets on Saturdays and Sundays from around 1 to 6 p.m. PLEASE BE WARNED, this is not guaranteed as these bitches are unpredictable and operating hella illegally. But it’s still worth it to check it out because if it doesn’t work out, there are lots of places to grab vegan eats around Dolores Park (I will compile a thorough list and link to it at some point in the near future) and then sit in the grass with all the other assholes. Oh, and you can watch the hippies doing gross ol’ partner yoga and tossing around those fucking hippie sticks and playing hacky sack and shit.

In conclusion, the only bad thing about this cart is that it’s not parked on my face. In other words: I want to eat it out. With Vegenaise.

My name is Laura and I’m a vegan who lives in San Francisco and loves to eat. I also love dinosaurs. In fact, I’m into most things that eight-year-old boys are into, including but not limited to deep sea creatures, Super Mario Kart and CANDY.*

This blog will mainly be a guide to vegan and vegetarian eating in San Francisco but sometimes, when my eating cannot be contained by one city, I will expand (ha!) to include other locations. That is all. For now.

* Unlike an eight-year-old boy, I also enjoy 700-page novels, NPR, and sex with grown men.**
**Unless that eight-year-old boy is Macaulay Caulkin and that grown man is I THINK YOU KNOW WHO THAT GROWN MAN IS.