Monday, October 31, 2011

Save the Cucumbers! Global Gardens Oil and Vinegar

"A cucumber should be well-sliced, dressed with pepper and vinegar, and then thrown out." - Samuel Johnson

Apparently, Samuel Johnson wasn't using the right vinegar.

I always bring my friends up to the Santa Ynez valley for a day when they visit, because it’s wine country and my friends are alcoholics. This past Saturday I went up to the Santa Ynez valley to spend some time with my friend Charyl, who lives there.

Our destination was Los Olivos, a picturesque town of 1,000 residents where every storefront is a tasting room or art gallery of some kind. We were headed to Global Gardens, owned and operated by Theo Stephan. Theo produces all different kinds of olive oil, vinegar, sauces, and glazes. She’s recently released her first cookbook, Olive Oil & Vinegar for Life, with lots of creative recipes (including lots of vegan ones!).

While Charyl waited in line to get her cookbook signed by Theo, I looked around the store. Look at all that fancy oil and vinegar!

Since Charyl is a member of Global Gardens, we got an olive oil and vinegar tasting for free. I would have taken straight shots of the stuff – it was that good – but they provided delicious artisan bread from Solvang Pie Company to dip in it.

I was most impressed by the taste of the walnut oil. Theo’s daughter Anita, who was in charge of the tasting, told me that their walnut oil provided 100% of my daily Omega-3 fatty acid requirement. Since I don’t eat fish, I’m always looking for ways to get more Omega-3; usually I just binge on ground flax seed (and by “binge” I mean sprinkle it in my oatmeal).

So I bought a bottle of the walnut oil. (I used it to grill tofu that night and it worked really well; it withstood the high heat much better than olive oil does.)

Outside the shop, Theo’s other daughter was providing tastes of some of the recipes in the new cookbook. I tried the Cowgirl Blue Caviar made with Meyer Lemon Balsamic Bliss, one of Global Gardens’ signature vinegars. Obviously, it’s not really caviar – it’s a dip made of avocado, garlic, corn, beans, cilantro, and of course olive oil and vinegar. Yum!

Since I had splurged and dropped $20 on fancy walnut oil, I couldn’t afford to buy my own copy of Theo’s cookbook, but I went ahead and stole some of the recipes out of Charyl’s copy. I’m excited to try them – but the Global Gardens operation is really inspiring and it makes me want to invent my own recipes using oils and special vinegars.

If only Samuel Johnson had known about Global Gardens (or had lived two hundred years longer), he wouldn't have wasted so many cucumbers.

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Autumn Simulation: Butternut Squash, Apple, and Carrot Soup

I’ve lived in southern California for over three years now and I shouldn’t complain; the weather is gorgeous here. But (I said I shouldn’t complain, not that I can’t complain) sometimes I really start to miss the seasons. Right now in New England, the leaves are changing color and falling to the ground, the air is cool and crisp, and every restaurant has a whole slew of cozy soups added to the menu.

I’ve been feeling nostalgic, so yesterday when my friend Victoria sent me a photo of the colorful trees outside her university library in New York City, I just about cried. I had had enough. I was determined to be all cozy and autumnal, despite the complete lack of autumn here in Santa Barbara.

So I decided to concoct a soup of my own using the coziest fall ingredient I could think of: butternut squash. And then I went and hung out in a pumpkin patch.

Vegan Butternut Squash, Apple, and Carrot Soup
1 whole butternut squash
3 carrots, chopped
2 granny smith apples, peeled and diced
½ yellow onion, diced
2 tsp cinnamon
2 tbsp olive oil
1 cup unprocessed soy milk

I haven’t made many soups, so I was kind of making it up as I went along (which, incidentally, is the story of my life).

I knew I’d have to soften the carrots and butternut squash if I was going to put them in the blender later, so I simmered them in a big pot for about 20 minutes. Meanwhile, I sauteed the onion, apples and olive oil in another big pot. I sprinkled the cinnamon on top and the kitchen started to smell like autumn – it was working!

I took the somewhat softened butternut squash out of its pot to peel it and chop it up. It was pretty painstaking work – butternut squash has got to be the least pliable vegetable I’ve encountered. The plus side is that I got a stellar arm workout.

After I chopped the butternut squash into about 1-inch cubes, I added it and the carrots into the pot with the onion and apples:

I let it simmer for about a half hour. Then I added the soy milk and let it simmer for another half hour. I just kept checking it every so often to see how soft the squash was getting.

After an hour of simmering, the squash chunks were soft enough that they wouldn’t injure my blender. So I put the mixture in the blender in two batches and pulsed it a few times. It turned into a thick, somewhat grainy, sweet and flavorful soup, and I took a gorgeous picture of it.

To complete my perfectly autumnal day, I went to a pumpkin patch, picked out a couple of perfect pumpkins, and carved them into creepy-looking Jack-O-Lanterns with David. He ate two bowls of the butternut squash soup over the course of the day and said it tasted delicious but that it reminded him of baby food.

Well, isn’t baby food just a bunch of vegetables blended up anyway? I wasn’t offended. Babies wish they could eat this butternut squash soup.

In the end, it didn’t matter that it was 72 degrees outside and cloudless, as always. I was successfully autumnal, and I don’t care what the interminable sunny weather has to say about it.

Monday, October 24, 2011

The Not-Quite-Whole Enchilada

One of the best parts about writing a vegan blog is that my friends (and sometimes people I don't know) are always sending me recipe ideas. And I am proud to say that I have turned the task of tackling the recipes people send me into an effective procrastination tool.

I was supposed to be working on a music theory exam this weekend. It was one of those exams that you take home to work on, and by Friday afternoon it was already destroying my life.

So I made the obvious decision to make enchiladas instead. My creative friend Bonnie had sent me a recipe for regular-people enchiladas, so I would have to veganize them (and de-spicify them – I’m not going anywhere near jalapeno peppers).

Unfortunately, to make the vegan enchiladas I would need to use two processed ingredients: Daiya vegan cheese and enchilada sauce. I probably could have recruited my Reasonably Skilled Alter-Ego to make some enchilada sauce from scratch, but she’s been getting a big head lately so I wanted to prove to her that I could do some things on my own.

I’ve taken the Eating Rules October Unprocessed pledge, so I’m avoiding processed foods for the month and I wouldn’t be able to eat the enchiladas myself. Luckily, my friend Jason was having a party that evening; surely the people at his party would want to eat my enchiladas. I would just have to go to the party instead of working on my take-home exam.

What? I couldn’t waste the enchiladas.

Vegan Enchiladas

2 cups diced zucchini
1 cup corn
1 yellow onion, chopped
¾ cup chopped fresh cilantro
1 ½ tsp ground cumin
2 cups mozzarella-style Daiya

Other ingredients:
Unprocessed corn tortillas
Trader Joe’s enchilada sauce

First things first. I pre-heated the oven to 350 degrees, greased a shallow glass baking dish with coconut oil, and put the enchilada sauce in a small pot to simmer.

Then I tossed the zucchini, corn, and onion in a wok to saute in some coconut oil. While they were sauteing, I put the Daiya, cumin, and cilantro in a big mixing bowl. When the sauteed ingredients were ready, I added them to the bowl and mixed everything together:

Now on to the tricky part. One of the annoying things about my kitchen is that there is no counter space next to the stove. So I had to balance the bowl of filling, a plate, the glass baking dish, and the package of tortillas on the three empty burners (the simmering enchilada sauce was taking up the other burner). Spoiler alert: I didn't catch on fire.

I poured about a cup of the warm sauce onto the plate. Then for each enchilada, I coated a tortilla in the sauce, put about a half cup of the filling in the center of it, did my best to roll it up, and placed it in the glass baking dish. I had no idea what I was doing.

Things were going well at first. But then the tortillas started to crack and the filling started to ooze out. I just kept cramming them into the dish, telling myself that enchiladas are supposed to be messy. What else could I do? Ask my stupid Reasonably Skilled Alter-Ego for help? Yeah, right.
The cracking enchiladas, before I put them in the oven.
When the dish was full of not-quite-whole enchiladas, I put it in the oven to bake for 40 minutes. That gave me some time to work on my exam get ready for the party.

Amazingly, my vegan enchiladas were a hit. It was a little ridiculous that I brought them to the party in the first place, since it turned out to be a rather fancy cocktail party. But no matter. They looked like a disaster but they tasted great (I even cheated and tried a little myself). Who's "reasonably skilled" now, Alter-Ego?

Thursday, October 20, 2011

KFC: Kentucky Fake Chicken at Adama

Even though Adama is one of the only 100% vegan restaurants in Santa Barbara, I don’t find myself eating there often. It’s probably because I (sadly) have no vegan friends... I have friends, okay?! Just not vegan friends.

But last night I convinced Dave, a particularly attractive – and definitely not vegan – computer nerd, to take me there for dinner. When I previously wrote about Adama, they were not yet serving dinner, so I was excited to check out it out.

From the dark wood floors and crown molding to the confusingly designed pink chairs and random decorative stove, Adama feels strangely formal. But the building clearly used to be a house, and there is something distinctly homey about the friendly staff.

The group of people sitting next to us included a particularly curious baby named Lucas who, when he wasn’t smearing fake butter all over his hands and face, was escaping from his entourage of adults and toddling around. The Adama staff welcomed Lucas the Baby with open arms, alternately chasing him down and talking to him in silly voices. I was entertained, but if you take formal dining very seriously (or if you hate babies) you might not dig the atmosphere.

Now, I’m participating in the Eating Rules October Unprocessed challenge, so I’m avoiding processed food for the month. But as a vegan I had to build in two caveats: I’ll eat processed food if other people make it for me (because if they’ve gone to the trouble to make a special vegan dish, I’m not going to be a total jerk and reject it) or if I’m eating out at a restaurant (because at regular-people restaurants there are usually only like, two things on the menu I can order anyway).

But I hadn’t thought about the possibility of eating at a 100% vegan restaurant. Would I stick to my unprocessed guns? I took one look at the Adama menu and realized that no, I would not.

Adama brands itself as "vegan comfort cuisine," and it’s obvious why. From the shepherd’s pie to the pizza to the barbeque sandwich, there’s something on the menu to make everyone comfortable. Everyone except maybe for Dave, who was looking decidedly uncomfortable in his confusingly designed pink chair.

Most of the main courses are made of Gardein™ or seitan – processed fake meat. I didn’t want to order a boring unprocessed salad at the one restaurant where I could eat whatever I wanted. And I figured that since Dave was eating at a vegan restaurant for my sake, this meal fell under the first caveat: food from other people.

So I ordered the “KFC” with mashed potatoes and gravy because I figured it was the closest I’d get to eating actual KFC. I would never eat actual KFC. And not just because it’s chicken. Luckily, the Adama version was way healthier than the "real" thing:

Unfortunately, the mashed potatoes and gravy were kind of weird. The potatoes were the texture of hash browns and the gravy didn’t really have much flavor. But the chicken was delicious; it was fried, after all. Dave tried a bite and said it tasted better than actual chicken! He went with the spaghetti and "meatballs" with zucchini:

Neither of us had room for dessert, but I had heard so many good things about Adama’s dessert creations that I decided to go for it and ordered the apple pie with vanilla ice cream (made of rice milk):

I wasn’t disappointed. The rice milk ice cream was much lighter than regular dairy ice cream, and I loved it. Adama was the perfect place to break my unprocessed pledge; I can’t wait to try more of the
"comfort cuisine" on the dinner menu next month, when I’ll have nothing to feel guilty about.

Monday, October 17, 2011

Anthony Bourdain Loves Sheep Testicles, Hates Vegans

If you’re one of those people who subscribe to Playboy “for the articles” (if those people even exist), prepare to be let down. In this month’s Playboy issue, David Sheff interviews Anthony Bourdain, host of the Travel Channel’s hit show No Reservations and occasional Top Chef judge.
According to Sheff, Bourdain comes off as "charming and amusing." But let’s be real. The guy sounds like a pompous jerk. I was particularly blown away by his appraisal of idiot-rocker-turned-idiot-activist Ted Nugent:
"Why the fuck can’t I get along with Ted Nugent, eat some barbecue on a person-to-person basis? I’m not saying it’s the answer to world peace, but why not? I know he has a lot of views that I loathe, but I also know he’s a hardworking fucking rock-and-roller. We have things in common. He’s an ultraconservationist. Rock and roll."
Ohhh…kay. I used to think there was nothing more repulsive than the thought of Ted Nugent eating barbecue. But there is: Ted Nugent eating barbecue with Anthony Bourdain, talking about politics.

Later in the interview, Bourdain admits to having a "special loathing for vegans." He says of veganism: "I don't have any understanding of it. Being a vegan is a first-world phenomenon, completely self-indulgent."

Sheff changes the subject immediately, but I wish he had asked a follow-up question. Maybe something like, "If vegans are self-indulgent, what does that make you? Aren’t you the one traveling around the world eating every type of animal you can get your hands on without a thought for the animal cruelty or environmental impact that led up to the moment you get to stuff your face with those sheep testicles?"

Bourdain's comments about vegetarians address an anxiety shared by many non-meat-eaters: how to avoid being "rude" to people you love while rejecting the food they offer you:
"[Vegetarians] make for bad travelers and bad guests. The notion that before you even set out to go to Thailand, you say, "I’m not interested," or you’re unwilling to try things that people take so personally and are so proud of and so generous with, I don’t understand that, and I think it’s rude. You’re at Grandma’s house, you eat what Grandma serves you."
This preference for people's feelings over the motivations behind vegetarianism is not crazy. But there's an obvious solution: Let Grandma know you don't eat meat. Offer to prepare a meatless meal for her when you go to her house. Vegetarians have figured this out.

I guess Anthony Bourdain lives in a universe where eating in a compassionate way that reflects concern and hope for the well-being of animals, the environment, and the health of the human population is self-indulgent.

But I live in a universe where Anthony Bourdain says of Red Bull, "It tastes like warm urine, but I drink it regularly." So… there’s that.

Friday, October 14, 2011

The Inconvenient Vegan

I've been participating in the Eating Rules Unprocessed October challenge, and I'm so excited to be featured as a guest blogger today! Check out my guest post (and a new quinoa recipe!) at Eating Rules.

Quinoa with Tomatoes and Basil

Yam I Am and Lentil Stew

My always-inspirational sister, Katie, sent me an email the other day with a link to this delicious soup recipe she had just successfully made. She had purchased a crock pot for $1 at a yard sale earlier in the week and was thrilled to have put it to good use.

I wanted to try the recipe that came so highly endorsed, but there were two obvious obstacles. First, it wasn’t vegan. Second, it would take forever to make. Who waits four hours for soup? I don't have that kind of time. And if I did, I wouldn't spend it waiting for soup.

I was feeling confident after my sweet potato success from last weekend, so I decided to take some pointers from my Reasonably Skilled Alter-Ego and go about inventing my own vegan version of a soup involving lentils and root vegetables.

I decided to go with yams, since they've always seemed really weird to me. I never tried them growing up because I was suspicious of them. They were kind of like my green eggs and ham (which, by the way, I tried and liked in my pre-vegan days). But there was no Sam I Am to convince me to try yams, so it just never happened.

I would be my own Sam I Am. And I would try my vegan version of green eggs and ham: lentils and yam.

I hopped out of bed this morning (I apologize for being one of those people who hop out of bed in the morning) and immediately headed to Whole Foods to pick up some ingredients. I made the mistake of not eating breakfast beforehand, so I was hungry while I shopped and ended up purchasing quite a few random things in addition to what I needed for my soup recipe.

… Eighty dollars later, I was ready to get to work. Here’s what I came up with:

Yam I Am and Lentil Stew

1 large yam
2 tbsp coconut oil
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 onion, chopped
5 cups organic vegetable broth
1 ½ cups green lentils
½ cup unprocessed soy milk (I used Eden Soy)
1 tsp sea salt

For the vegetable broth, I used Whole Foods’ 365 brand since it’s unprocessed. Its only ingredients are purified water, carrot, celery, onion, sea salt, and onion powder; my Reasonably Skilled Alter Ego could totally prepare that stuff, no problem.

I figured I should probably soften the yams before adding them into the mix, so I boiled them for fifteen minutes while I was getting the rest of the soup ready.

While the yams boiled, I put the coconut oil, chopped onion, and garlic in a big pot and sautéed them for a few minutes. I knew from past experience that if you don’t stir garlic often, it will burn… and that if you use a wok instead of a pot when preparing lentil soup, you end up with a huge pile of wet lentils.

After a few minutes, I poured in the vegetable broth and the lentils. My Reasonably Skilled Alter-Ego knew that it would be a good idea to bring the whole thing to a boil, then reduce it to a simmer for about 45 minutes.

I don’t know how she knows these things.

So while she dealt with that, I removed the yams, rinsed them, and chopped them into small cubes:

I still hadn’t decided whether or not to puree this stuff – it would depend on how mushy the yams got while they simmered. I tossed them into the pot with the rest of the ingredients, covered it, and waited.

While I waited, I nommed on some Ethnic Breads whole wheat pita, one of the random things I had purchased while grocery shopping on an empty stomach. It tasted so good that I decided to dip it in my stew later.

After 45 minutes of simmering, the lentils had absorbed all the broth and the stew looked like this:

I stirred in the soy milk and salt, but it was still too much like a pile of lentils and not enough like a stew. So I put it in the blender (which, unlike some other blenders, has yet to explode in my face) and pulsed it a few times to make it mushy.

It was much thicker than I had anticipated, so I used the Ethnic Breads pita to scoop it up, naan-style. It tasted good. So. Good. The texture was perfectly stew-like and the taste combination of lentils and yams was incredible.

Say! I like lentils and yam! I will eat them in a house (done), probably not with a mouse, definitely in a boat (if I had one), and maybe with a goat. Maybe.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Pretty Sweet Sweet Potatoes

My roommate Erin and I have been living in our little cottage for a few months now, but recently we were struck by how cold it was feeling. Especially at night. Someone else might have attributed the chill to the fact that the cottage was built almost one hundred years ago, or that it has hardwood floors and drafty windows. We came to the alternate conclusion that the cottage was cold because we hadn’t yet had a house warming party (or in our case, a cottage warming party).

The best kind of party is a potluck dinner, because it creates a sense of community participation and because it means you don’t have to cook all that much. So that's what we decided to have.

Obviously, there were no meat dishes allowed. But we did leave room for people to bring vegetarian dishes if they wanted instead of only vegan dishes. That's because we thought some of our friends might get intimidated by the idea of making vegan food, panic, and decide not to come at all. Then our potluck would turn into a potsuck.

But it wasn’t a potsuck. It was a success! I decided to make some grilled veggies (easy enough), a fusilli pasta dish with avocado sauce, sweet potatoes, and chocolate tofu mousse (now famous among my parents’ friends). The pasta dish ended up being pretty tasteless, so I won’t share the recipe with you because it’s too embarrassing.

But the sweet potatoes were incredible. My friend Maureen came up from LA for the party and helped me pull this one off, so I didn’t even need the help of my Reasonably Skilled Alter-Ego. That was fine with me, since I didn't want to invite my Reasonably Skilled Alter-Ego to the party, anyway. She's kind of a snob.

Pretty Sweet Sweet Potatoes
(serves 6-10)

6 sweet potatoes
½ cup maple syrup
½ cup coconut shreds
2 tbsp olive oil

First we preheated the oven to 350 degrees. Then we washed the sweet potatoes and cut them into the size of think French fries. We filled a large zip lock bag with the maple syrup, coconut shreds, and olive oil, dumped the sweet potatoes into the bag, and massaged the other ingredients into them. Here’s Maureen, massaging the sweet into the potatoes:

When the potatoes were thoroughly coated, we stuck them in the oven for about 40 minutes. We could tell they were done when we poked them with a fork and found them to be mushy. They were a hit! My new friend Kevin said they tasted like pancakes… which is a good thing, of course.

Here are some of the other dishes my friends brought (nobody brought that single beer you see - I just had to place that down on the table so I could take the picture):
The only thing that ended up potsucking about the potluck was that around 11 o’clock, my little old landlady knocked on the door in her nightgown and told us to shut up. I had to bring her the rest of the delicious snickerdoodle cookies my friend Helena had baked to make amends the next morning.

Friday, October 7, 2011

Don't Eat Animals (Or Your Husband)

Sometimes I suspect that PETA uses a notification device, much like Batman’s Bat-Signal, to find out about every crazy situation around the world when it happens. That way, nothing crazy can take place without PETA there to jump in, get involved somehow, and up the crazy ante.

Two decades ago, former model Omaima Aree Nelson murdered her husband. Then she cooked and ate parts of his body while wearing red shoes, a red hat, and lipstick. She was convicted and sentenced to twenty-seven years in prison, but now she’s requesting early release.

Carrie Snider, Special Projects Coordinator at PETA, wasn’t about to miss an opportunity to get her crazy on. So she sent a letter to Warden Lydia Hense of Central California Women’s Facility in Chowchilla requesting a condition to Nelson’s parole, if it is granted: “Require her to follow a nonviolent, bloodless, vegan diet.” PETA even offered to send Nelson a “starter kit full of flesh-free recipes and helpful tips for making the transition to a nonviolent diet.”

There is one part of the letter that makes a lot of sense to me: if Nelson is not granted parole, PETA suggested that she be fed a vegetarian/vegan diet in prison. That way, her long-term healthcare costs would be reduced and taxpayer money would be saved.

But the cogency is lost amid the craziness.

PETA makes a couple of extreme comparisions, first between Nelson herself and animals: “Animals on factory farms never get a chance at parole because they always get the death penalty”; and then between the butchered animals and Nelson’s butchered husband: “The last thing that a convicted killer and cannibal should be allowed to do is chew on these innocent victims’ body parts.”

The first comparison wrongly (and bizarrely) aligns regular old omnivores who eat factory farm meat with a murderous cannibal. The second undermines the seriousness of Nelson’s mental condition by implying that eating animals is on the same terror-level as eating your husband.

Can veganism prevent and even cure the country’s most common diseases? I think so. But can it cure cannibalism (and whatever mental condition results in cannibalistic acts)? I think not. Obviously, I believe in the sentiment behind a lot of what PETA does. But I don't believe in fighting horror with ridiculousness.

Nevertheless, I will leave you with one heartfelt piece of advice: If you are tempted to put on a red dress, chop up your husband, cook him, and eat him… don’t waste time worrying about whether you ought to maintain a vegan diet. Go get some help.

Monday, October 3, 2011

So a Vegan Walks into an Unprocessed Bar...

So a vegan walks into an unprocessed bar... and asks, "Why isn't there a hash tag in front of the word 'unprocessed'? How is anyone supposed to search for this on Twitter?!"

So! A vegan walks into an #unprocessed bar... and is totally overwhelmed and intimidated because this is new territory and she's pretty awkward in the kitchen.

Last week, this awkward vegan decided to take the Eating Rules October Unprocessed challenge and pledge to eat only unprocessed foods for the whole month. I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal because I eat unprocessed food most of the time, anyway.

But not all the time. I had to purge my refrigerator of Earth Balance, almond milk, and store-bought guacamole and purchase purer alternatives to my soy sauce, hummus, peanut butter, and soy milk.

One of my biggest hurdles would be CLIF bars, since they’ve been my go-to starvation-prevention snack for the past six months. I don’t actually end up eating too many of them – maybe one or two per week – but I like just knowing they’re in my purse in case I need them.

My friend Tania commented on the post in which I announced my pledge, suggesting I make my own CLIF bars and attaching a recipe. Using that recipe and some similar ones (and enlisting the help of my Reasonably Skilled Alter-Ego, who manages all the trickier tasks in the kitchen), I concocted the following recipe:

Unprocessed Maple Almond Oat Bars

2 cups uncooked oats
3 tbsp ground flax seeds
1/4 cup sliced almonds
1/4 cup maple syrup (100% pure, obviously)
2 tbsp unprocessed brown sugar
1/3 cup unprocessed almond butter
1 tsp pure vanilla extract

First, I mixed the oats, flax, and almonds together in a big bowl:

Then it was time to enlist the help of my Reasonably Skilled Alter-Ego. She brought the maple syrup and brown sugar to a boil in a pan, stirring them constantly. Obviously, they didn’t burn to the bottom of the pan because unlike me, my alter-ego is a Person of Reasonable Skill. Then she removed them from the heat and mixed in the almond butter and vanilla extract:

I poured the melted stuff over the dry stuff and stirred it all up. I packed it into an 8-inch pan and wondered how it would ever turn into solid bars. It just didn’t look like it would hold together. So I stuck it in the refrigerator to cool for about an hour. When I took it out, it was holding together just fine and I was able to slice it into bar-sized snacks.

They’re tasty! Unfortunately, when you try to pick them up to bite into them on a hot day (like today), they kind of fall apart. Oh, well. I still mark this as a successful foray into unprocessed cooking and it gives me hope for the coming month.

So a vegan walks into an unprocessed bar... that she made from scratch herself... and eats the whole thing right before yoga class, pretty much guaranteeing an upset stomach. The end.