Ten years ago, vegetarian restaurants weren't quite so trendy but I would join my veggie friends out of respect and, lets face it, sheer curiosity.  I won't deny that I rolled my eyes at the menu a few times, but coached by some very patient people I eventually moved beyond the veggie burger.  What really surprised me though, was that I discovered I LOVED vegetables.  This was such an eye-opener because I've never been fond of salads.  Sorry lettuce, leafy greens left raw on my plate just doesn't appeal to me. But lo, here was an entire cuisine focused on cooking vegetables in new and exciting ways.  Doubt and suspicion eventually turned to fascination and eagerness -- so much so that vegetarian food is now among my favorite cuisines.  What's not to love?  The food is usually fresh, flavorful, light, and quite innovative.  Even in non-veggie restaurants, I will consider the veggie entrees just as thoroughly as the rest of the menu.  Who needs pork chops when you can get stuffed squash or cherry-glazed asparagus?

My adventures with veggie cuisine also extend into the kitchen.  An avid hostess and amateur cook, I enjoy having friends over for tea parties and dinners.  Being mindful of my guests, I've learned to always keep vegetarian and vegan recipes on hand.  Last summer, my partner and I invited another couple to dinner: a Texan carnivore and a vegan activist who's among the organizers for the Veggie Pride Parade on May 18th.  (Opposites really DO attract!)  To top it off, my partner was eager to get the outdoor grill going.  Not one to shy away from a challenge, I announced that we'd have a vegan barbeque, an announcement that my partner greeted with an incredulous: “so what are we going to eat??" 

Undaunted I sorted all our sauces and marinades according to their ingredients and proved that most of our pantry was in fact fair game.  Ok, so we got the flavorings covered; now what?  I consulted Vegan Planet by Robin Robertson; a very informative cookbook which actually has a chapter devoted to grilling.  I already had portabellas and veggie-kabobs in mind, but the cookbook guided me with the grilled tofu, sweet potato samosas, and couscous salad.  Voila- I had the makings of a vegan feast!

Our vegan friend was elated with our preparations, and brought her own yummy fruit cobbler for desert.  She described how she usually carries her own food to events to make up for the lack of options, and was touched that I had taken her diet into such consideration.  But the best part of the evening was after the meal, when both of our meat-craving partners acknowledged (with a little shock) that they had thoroughly enjoyed the barbeque despite the absence of meat.  The whip cream did come out toward the end -- some habits are just too hard to break -- but overall our vegan experiment was a success. 

Truth is, I highly respect vegetarians and vegans.  In my experience they are usually extremely caring individuals who are socially and environmentally responsible.  They've chosen their lifestyles for a number of reasons – many of which I support, especially when it comes to decreasing our carbon footprint. 

Just because I don't restrict my diet to their level does not mean I don't understand or agree with their motivations.  Now I'm sure some militant person will criticize my stance as the hypocritical whining of one who refuses to give up that last slice of bacon.  Yes, I've had my fair share of angry glares from people who can't believe I went for the beef.  But unless you're a hermit who lives completely off the grid and won't even kill a mosquito, you've had to make your own compromises.  Well I compromise every day, in my own way.  I alternate veggie days w/ meat days, just like I alternate between walking and cabs, or open windows and air conditioning.

Will I eat meat forever?  Probably not, but that decision will come when I'm ready for it.  One thing is for sure: no filet mignon can stand up to handmade pumpkin ravioli in a fresh pesto sauce.  Waiter!!

My every movement was also punctuated by a cloud of dust as I joined tens of thousands of people returning from Burning Man- a festival that takes place on the Black Rock Desert, about a 2-hour drive from Reno.

For 4 of the last 5 years, I have taken my vacation during the week before Labor Day.  I grab a carry-on bag with clothes and *empty* water containers - my tent and larger equipment is always shipped in advance- and fly to Reno to buy last minute supplies and find transportation to the desert.  In past years, this has included a version of hitchhiking: hanging out with other "Burners" at the airport or "Burning Man Hostel" until someone shows up offering rides.  At the end of the event, I may hold a "RENO AIRPORT" sign until a car or RV offers a ride.  This year my trip was slightly more civilized- friends and I pooled together to rent cars.

It's always hard to describe Burning Man to people who have never been.  The event itself lasts a week during which a city of tents, geodesic domes, and art installations is built in the middle of an ancient lakebed.  During this one week, Black Rock City becomes one of Nevada's largest cities- this year claiming a population of over 47,000.  It even has a zip code and its own post office!  (Yes, I received mail- a birthday card from my partner back home.)  In a nutshell, Burning Man can be described as an artistic project or social experiment in community-building, radical self-expression and self-reliance.  Participants hold themselves and each other responsible for the protection of the city's environment, attempting to "Leave No Trace" of the city's existence.  This year, the organizers took this commitment further in naming "The Green Man" as the artistic theme.  (For detailed info including its history, its themes, and its ten principles, see www.burningman.com.)  The name is derived from the 40-foot wooden effigy that is burned at the climax of the event in a spectacle that includes drummers, dancers, and fireworks.

The festival attracts people from all walks of life, especially those on the fringe.  Imagine a "meeting of the tribes" of counterculture, where one's self-expression is not hindered by social restraints.  Outrageous costumes or even nudity are not only accepted, they are celebrated.  Now imagine this happening where temperatures can easily fluctuate from over 100 degrees in the daylight sun to 50 or even 40 degrees at night; where the terrain is composed of alkaline dust that can dry your skin to the point of cracking and bleeding (as I painfully learned my first year); where a hot breeze can quickly and ominously turn to a wind strong enough to break the struts of a brand new canopy.  Shade structures are recommended and water a sheer necessity- a minimum of one gallon per person per day.  To those fortunate enough to bring a power generator, some light and perhaps a fan is the ultimate luxury.  It's not uncommon for me to start the week off feeling cranky and ill as my body adjusts to the conditions- dehydration and heat stroke a constant threat.  For those of us with less than perfect respiratory systems, asthma attacks, sinus headaches, and sore throats are also a risk.  (After a few years of bad experiences I had compiled a small cooler filled with a mini-pharmacy, ready to tackle anything the desert could throw at me.  As if she knew I was ready, she spared me the need for meds.  Campmates, however, gratefully took advantage of my collection.)

So why go?  For every "Burner" the answer is unique.  True, I enjoy the freedom to wear tutus and fairy wings, or to pair a formal gown with knee-high laced biker boots.  But ultimately for me the event is about changing perspective; hitting a "re-set" button so to speak.  The conditions of the desert are so extreme that I am forced to reconsider my priorities.  Family drama, student loans, and even report deadlines (sorry Phil) sound trivial when I realize that a sandstorm is starting, I've run out of water, and I'm about a mile and a half away from my camp.  Experiencing nature at its most extreme, life becomes simple and beautiful.  I am both humbled and strengthened by her power.  A full harvest moon on the rise or a double rainbow following a storm inspires awe, and my voice joins in on the cheering and celebration that spreads across the city.  The experience is truly unlike any other.  I return to the "default" world physically exhausted, yet mentally and emotionally renewed.

*One post is not enough to share my experiences and observations at Burning Man, so look for more posts soon to come.

**To my fellow Burners reading this post, you may recognize me as "Smeagol" from the Freedom Community Village at 7:30 and Intertidal.  (I hosted the Silent Tea Parties.)