Pooh bear had a love affair with the golden stuff. A. A. Milne’s tubby little cubby all stuffed with fluff, brought to full color by Disney, was obsessed with honey…I’m sorry, Hunny. Winnie may have been, but I’ve never been hardcore on this sweetener. It was never the way I wanted to spend my calories. Ironically, I’d scarf down a cupcake, then say no to honey in my tea because it was too much. However, I will now go for agave nectar or (even better) maple syrup because I was told they have a lower glycemic index so do not spike blood sugar in the same way as honey. (As if that makes them better; they’re added and likely unnecessary calories.)

Obviously, these are dietary/metabolic considerations; not moral/ethical ones. Despite reading the material from PETA, I am not against honey. My position is largely of ambivalence. I don’t seek it out, rather I opt for the alternatives, but if it’s in a product that is vegan otherwise, I won’t automatically abstain. I do have vegan friends who also, and without reservation, say they don’t care and others who had never even thought about it.

Forget vegan standards for the moment, as with the use of carmine in lipsticks and blushes (among other items…like your red Starbucks drink), killing mass numbers of insects for cosmetic and food products is not within my definition of vegetarian. To get their by-products, their deaths are not accidental but mandatory and highly unnecessary. So when I stumbled upon Kate’s beautician reveals buzz on bee-sting secret that made Duchess a blushing bride from the UK’s Daily Mail, I wondered ‘Are the bees harmed in the same way as those used for carmine?’

The article predominately banged on about Deborah Mitchell‘s celebrity clientele, with little about the process of extracting bee venom for this use. Searching for bee stings or bee venom, the overwhelming results of both are on how to treat bee stings.

According to a Wikipedia page on Bee Stings:

“Although it is widely believed that a worker honey bee can sting only once, this is a partial misconception: although the stinger is in fact barbed so that it lodges in the victim’s skin, tearing loose from the bee’s abdomen and leading to its death in minutes, this only happens if the skin of the victim is sufficiently thick, such as a mammal’s. Honey bees are the only hymenoptera with a strongly barbed sting, though yellow jackets and some other wasps have small barbs.”

So it seems, under the correct circumstances, the bees do not die from releasing their venom. One bee venom mask producer, Abeeco, describes the process:

“To extract the Bee Venom a pane of glass is placed along side the hive and a small electrical current is run through it, which encourages the bees to sting the surface.  The bees are not harmed in the process.”

Aside from fighting wrinkles, reportedly bee venom has medicinal uses for treating “arthritis and other painful conditions.” To emphasize its lavishness, Abeeco continues by emphasizing that, “Bee Venom is a an expensive scarce commodity.

For those not concerned with using animals or insects for their by-products, especially if it does not result in their automatic demise, here in may lie the rub. As with using antibiotics in animal feed, is there an ethical concern with using a scarce commodity like bee venom, with its anti-inflammatory, anti-bacterial and anit-viral properties, for aesthetic cosmetic purposes rather than reserving it for alleviating painful medical ailments?

Vegan is an ambiguous title, simultaneously self-proclaimed and/or socially inscribed. Jonathan Safran Foer has actually commented that the word does a disservice.

At its base, like vegetarian, it means refraining from the consumption of animals (yes, including fish and insects). However, consumption goes beyond to include the eating and use of animal products. Its step beyond can leave a sour taste in some mouths, thanks to two parts our culture’s general bias/misconceptions/ignorance and correlation to militancy and/or activism. I’m guilty; I never wanted to be thought of as vegan…”They crazy.”

An organizer of a growing veg fest once told me they chose ‘Vegetarian’ because ‘Vegan’ was “too scary.”

This concept was echoed in a recent Whole Foods encounter. Standing at the salad bar, I was confused why the tofu was labeled “Vegan” but the seitan was not. I’d noticed this before. Reading the ingredients, this item, as others had, looked suitable for vegans.

I only wanted to know what made the one vegan and the other not. So I asked a young woman behind the counter. She came over with me but her initial response was ‘read the ingredients.’ (Thanks Sherlock.)

I read labels; having something labeled takes out the guess work for me, though, as I presume for others it might as well. However, having two things with very similar and seemingly innocuous ingredients, one labeled vegan and one not, begs the question, Why?

When I continued with ‘What makes one for vegans but the other not?’ I was corrected that the tofu was ‘Not for vegans. Anyone can have it.’ (Facepalm).

After I corrected myself, using ‘suitable for vegans’, she continued. I’ll cut to the chase: the word vegan is scary to some people and they might be dissuaded from trying foods labeled vegan. Ok, well I eat vegan food and I was deterred from trying it because it wasn’t labeled…and that each time I asked if I could be assured the seitan was suitable for vegan consumption, I just got told to read the ingredients. Fail.

A veg*n walks into a BBQ joint…

Sounds like the start of a joke and it ended up being so.

Last night the company I work for had a happy hour at Southern Hospitality, located at the corner of 45th st and 7th ave in NYC. Initially I was jazzed. For anyone who has never heard of this place, even the salads have meat in them. After a Google search, I wasn’t quite as eager…”vegan hell” were my words.

You go for the free drinks and the people, though…and I work with some good people, which is something I almost missed.

As I walked in to look for familiar faces in the sea of the company’s staffers, immediately the pungent BBQ smell consumed my nose…and my stomach lurched. After finding a close coworker and lettinh her know I might not be able to stay, she suggested a quick drink to dull my senses.

Balloa was it sang, “You’ve got to accentuate the positive. Eliminate the negative.” Well, for the moment, neutralize. There is a purpose to be served in not being the surly veg*n.

Now, I have no idea what I looked like at the end of the evening, apparently no pics were taken of me. I suspect I looked as young professional as those you see drawn on for falling asleep at parties. Caveat: I was awake and the instigator.

Since I couldn’t have the appetizers, I did have a drink and chatted and made sport at beg, borrowing, and stealing peoples’ name tag stickers. It was a great time.

Now, keep in mind, I would never recommend Southern Hospitality. The place didn’t make the night; the people did.

Yesterday, an article titled “Some of my best friends are vegetarian” by The Blurred Line caught my attention. It was Freshly Pressed on WordPress, so it apparently caught more than a few peoples’ attention. I was reading with a grain of salt at the cheeky rant–dotted with references to gas, moral superiority, and hatred towards brussel sprouts–meant to stir the pot and drum up traffic.

It was all good…ok it was really all bad but fine and typical…until:

My first reaction being ‘Seriously?’ I blinked and reread. I wasn’t hallucinating.

Well boys and girls, the jig is up. That person with Celiac is secretly just putting on a show to get down to a size 2. As for me? Well, after more than 9 years as a vegetarian, I just have to admit I’m a failure; I’ve lost no weight. Hardly seems worth it now. Who’s up for some steak and McNuggets?

Screw the worthless animals, the degradation to our planet, and the risk of disease.

Oh, wait…that’s right…it’s about more than just personal taste for (or against) food.

I’m not huge on tofu and, despite the fad, I’m not on the kale cart, but that does not mean I’m going to throw the baby out with the bathwater and abandon my lifestyle. From piggies to puppies, animal abuse is rampant. As well, research has shown that “the farm animal sector is…contributing to many environmental problems…” (Koneswaran and Nierenberg, 2007).

Since TBL focused most on food consumption, though, let me do the same. The consumption of meat products is being linked with increases in heart disease and certain types of cancer.

• “Increased consumption of processed meat is associated with an increased risk of stomach cancer,” (Larsson, Orsini and Wolk, 2006).

• “Many Americans have no idea that eating hot dogs and bacon raises their risk of this deadly disease. Even a few servings of processed meat a week can increase cancer danger,” said Susan Levin, M.S., R.D., nutrition education director for the Physicians Committee for Responsible Medicine, (PCRM, 3/13/2012).

• “The evidence that consuming high amounts of red and processed meats increases the risk of colon and rectal cancers is considered convincing,” said Marji McCullough, the American Cancer Society’s strategic director of nutritional epidemiology, (Chicago Tribune, 3/13/2012).

None of us will live forever, but it is the quality of the lives we live and the aggregate burden we leave for the future that matters most.

See more cartoons from Natural News.

UPDATE: Since initially publishing the post, The Blurred Line has expanded the content to include more myopic dribble, including a reference to “Islanic jihadists.” If you’d like to use your time more wisely, try checking out Stop Hitting Your Brother‘s run down of mock meats.

It seems everyone in my office is indulging in the seasonal guilty pleasure of Girl Scout cookies. I could knock back a box or two, particularly Samoas and Tagalongs, in my youth.

Of course, I wouldn’t do it now for health reasons, but also because my favorites aren’t always what I’d like them to be. Ideally I’d love them to be vegan, but some I don’t really consider vegetarian. For instance, Tagalongs (aka Peanut Butter Patties) are listed as having whey, which I haven’t necessarily considered vegetarian because I was told it may come into contact with animal rennet.

Judging from the ingredients, five varieties of Girl Scout cookies may be vegan.

• Thanks-A-Lot
• Thin Mints (ABC)
• Lemonades
• Shout Outs!
• Peanut Butter Patties (this one’s confusing cause PB Patties are supposed to be the same as Tagalongs)

However, some may have concerns about bone char sugar and/or palm oil, among other ingredients.

If you prefer to have more control, try these:

• Chef Chloe’s recipe for Vegan Thin Mints.

• Annie and Dan Shannon’s recipes for Vegan Samoas, Tagalongs, and Thin Mints.

An alternative on the go that I was excited to find when I wasn’t looking for it is the Coconut Chocolate Chip CLIF Bar. The verdict isn’t unanimous; some love em’ and some hate ‘em…but isn’t that how everything is? Personally, I’m pro; they remind me of Samoas.

Happy scouting…for cookies.

So much anticipation over the 2012 NYC Vegetarian Food Festival, I can’t believe it’s now a week past. I’m sure it’s obvious how informative, fun, and positive the weekend was.

At the close of the second day, I stayed on hand to help break down. *little tears*…of giddiness. The guys at Chicago Soy Dairy gifted me a box of Dandies Vegan Marshmallows (oh, you’ll see the goodies I make with those bad boys) and yummy cartons of Sunsational Sunflower Milk and Earth Balance Soy Milk were left for grabs. On that day, ‘You should just take those,’ was quite a positive statement.

Over the weekend, I acquired an armful of information booklets from various organizations, like PETA, Compassion Over Killing, and Vegan Outreach. At every booth, ‘You should just take those,’ had a positive meaning. Yesterday afternoon, it took on a distinctly negative connotation.

Last week, after I sifted through for ones I wanted to keep for myself, that somehow I didn’t already have, I felt bad looking at the pile. I’m not much of a leafleter, so I pondered what exactly did I think I was going to do with these.

In the morning I grabbed an extra bag and stuffed in the brochures. When I got to work, I vacillated. Ultimately, I pulled them out and arranged them on a corner of my desk. Never saying, ‘Take one,’ my coworkers noticed my, what one of them called, “propaganda.”

The initial discourse my display produced has faded. I am aware no one is on my side, but I still found the interaction positive. However, yesterday, a female coworker walked by and announced that no one was taking my booklets and I should just take them home. To which I replied, “They’ll be there for as long as I want them to.”

Like mothers and fathers putting out pictures of their children, flower vases from Valentine’s Day, displaying sports memorabilia, or concert/show tickets and posters–all reflections of those individuals’ lives–my booklets are no different; they reflect my life and my recent experiences.

Some may be graphic once you crack the binding, but any images are true reflections of industry fueled by consumer demand. If someone chooses to take one for reading, of course I would not mind, but neither really would the father mind if you praised how adorable their children are. So, no, I won’t just be taking my booklets home with me.

“Last Friday night, yeah we were danced on tabletops and we took…” Oh, wait, no. Actually I was stuck at work late, but that’s good cause it culminated with two slices of vegan pizza at Vinnie’s in Williamsburg, Brooklyn.

Before that, though, it included a conversation with one of my coworkers. Discourse is important; no matter where the channels of communication lead, take the ride.

On her way out, she noticed my necklace.

“Is that a pig?”

“Yes, it says, ‘Friend Not Food’.”

“It’s cute. I don’t agree. But cute.”

Though commenting earlier in the day about wishing she could be a vegetarian, this comment made me realize her desire was different than mine was. The conversation continued, though, onto my mid-road veg*nism and limiting my dairy/egg consumption (which is not for ethical concerns against the use of non-slaughter animal by-products, but against factory farming and over-consumption).

As an example of the harsh conditions that lead to poor products (not to mention that whole animal suffering thing), I pulled out Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Foer and read her a paragraph I’d underlined just that morning.

“Scientific studies and government records suggest that virtually all (upwards of 95 percent of) chickens become infected with E. coli (an indicator of fecal contamination) and between 39 and 75 percent of chickens in retail stores are still infected.”

Her face twisted. Even being a vegetarian, the idea still makes my stomach turn; my family eats that stuff…I ate that stuff.

As I explained that the book really dealt with his experiences with his family, she paused on the idea that Foer would be raising his son (plural now) vegan. She questioned, with a slight degree of exasperation, “Just because he’s vegan, he’s going to make his son be vegan.”

My response was something like, ‘If you’re Catholic, you’re going to raise you kids that way.’ I remembered reading about Foer claiming he wouldn’t be upset  if his son grew up to way meat and offered that up as well. (I’ll have to dig up that link.)

What stayed with me was the intonation;  how it seemed to her like Foer was forcing this onto his son. All parents, though, assert an influence over their kids; the family is one of the greatest social forces shaping children’s personalities. Parents raise their children to do as they do. Pray as they pray. Eat as they eat. Parents who eat meat, feed their kids meat.

Even those contemplating a more plant-based diet for its health benefits, leer at the idea of forgoing meat altogether because it’s good for you.

From an early age, we learn what’s “good” for us. We believe our parents infallible; they have all the answers. ‘Eat your meat and drink your milk. It’s good for you.’ Well, how do they know that? Who told them so? We learn early on to differentiate the animals on our plates from the ones running around our yards. We learn.

At face value, Chow.com’s ‘Eating Is Social’ ads are meant to refer to their socal networking. The phrase has a deeper meaning.

It was early fall I started seeing these online ads, just around the time I got the chance to chat with Vaute Couture intern, Patricia, on September 8, at the company’s fashion week pop-up shop at MooShoes. As we talked about sustainability and forced child labor in developing nations (she’s one smart cookie), we got on the topic of socializing and eating out as a veg*n. New York City has many amazing veg*n restaurants, but she joked that her friends don’t want to go with her.

There’s an extended thought process when navigating social events dominated by typical eaters. Not a week after talking with Patricia, I went to drinks with coworkers, but not before going to the market for food. The odds a random bar would have something for me are low. While you can call ahead, on a busy work day, grabbing a little extra at a trusted place can be easier than the bar roulette, played under skeptical eyes.

It’s not hard to make delicious veg*n; what’s hard is being surrounded by people and at a place that doesn’t also know that. When I brought my food back to the office, one of my coworkers heading out expressed disapproval of my food, dare I say disgust. I rather like Amy’s Black Bean Tamale Verde, but to each their own…and his own I’m sure had meat. (The myth of meat dish nonblandness, for lack of a better name, is deep-rooted. As though by virtue of not having meat, a dish can never compare to a counterpart made with animal flesh.)

As I’m reading through Eating Animals, I’m learning about aspects of factory farming I did not previously know. Also, though, while at times heavy with (necessary) verbiage, Jonathan Safran Foer lays himself bare and you can see yourself on some of the pages, no matter what you eat.

“Sharing food generates good feeling and creates social bonds” (Eating Animals, p55). Even if I wasn’t a vegetarian, I couldn’t argue with this. ‘Oh, remember when we used to…?’ Spinach dip in Challah bread while watching T.V. with my family on holidays, munching on packs of frozen Haribo Gummy Bears while playing with my sister, my dad taking us to Wendy’s when my mom worked late, I have memories tied to foods, we all do, and they make me happy.

On one level, Foer counters Michael Pollen’s argument that “table fellowship” is a vote against vegetarianism. When you have to deny the food available, it can deteriorate the bond. Foer believes this true. It can create social discomfort. Patricia’s predicament is a golden example of the effects. No fellowship can occur if no one will share the table with you, or vice versa.

When two of my coworkers went to Whole Foods for lunch one day, though, they made sure to invite me for when they go to the, “Other places you can’t go with us.” Simultaneously, while this highlights the lost opportunities for fellowship, present is an added component of reflection not always present nor to be demanded (though that’s a learned realization).

Foer seems to counter that the sharing of views, promoting a conversation, can foster greater bonding. “There is also the possibility that a conversation about what we believe would generate more fellowship–even when we believe different things–than any food being served” (p56). As I’ve enjoyed my veg*n food and learned, I’ve endeavored to share with my family (even if I know they’re not going to join me) and they’ve grown more receptive.

Eating is social and for veg*ns in a non-veg*n world, that can mean a process of discomfort, dialogue, but hopefully still fellowship and bonding.

Just chilling at my friend’s apartment the other night, he comes out of his kitchen thoughtful. After a moment, he blurts out, “I think I’m going to start wearing wool.” He considers his words. I consider his words. Wool is not really all that textbook vegan.

This comes as I’m trying to find a non-wool/down/leather/fur winter coat. His logic: it’s cold and wool keeps you warm. “You gonna take a bite out of a cow next?” I joked…sort of.

There seems to be an all or nothing mystique surrounding veganism, though; a demand for a strict adherence to a codified list of restrictions (a reason I don’t consider myself vegan).

We headed out to Vegan Drinks where we met Tiffany, visiting from Kansas City. She was having the same predicament as myself. Luckily for her, she’d run into and had lunch with Victoria Moran who told her about Vaute Couture, a line of eco-conscious outwear designed by Leanne Mai-ly Hilgart. (I’m a little jealous that Moran’s VC coat had a hood. They’re a big investment and if I ever made it, I’d want one with a hood.)

As I talk to more and more self-described “vegans,” I do realize the strive for perfection is bit of a fallacy or maybe a mistake of the outsider (myself). In Eating Animals, Jonathan Safran Foer puts it something like, there are beliefs we go to sleep with and choices we make in the morning. There’s also the justifications for those choices, like ‘it’s cold and wool is warm’ or ‘I need leather boots for work.’

Hearing the justifications for the exceptions (internally, as well), I wonder if perfection is really possible at present…or ever. It’s not agreed upon. While I’ve encountered some who believe themselves to be 100% vegan, even PETA gives the 99% exception.

So why do I care about finding a coat without wool or down if I’m not actually vegan? Well, I’m stubborn. Really, it’s become a quest because I like to know if there’s a reasonable option out there for someone who doesn’t want to or even just can’t use a particular material.

Last Friday, a package was placed on my desk. A coworker had sent me a holiday present from Harry and David. It turned out I really couldn’t eat any of it. Not for the dairy necessarily, but the sugar. Several months ago, a representative confirmed that they do use bone char sugar in some of their products, though they are willing to field queries about specific items.

My coworkers were perplexed, ‘You can’t eat any of it?’ they asked as they pilfered the boxes. The person doesn’t know I’m a fairly strict vegetarian, so I chose to look on the bright side and kept the boxes for organizing my home work space. It really is the thought that counts.

Happy Holidays!