Yep. Making that thing.

SAUERKRAUT.

How many of you, my faithful readers, have I played the "foods on a deserted island" game with?

Well, I think if it had to be only one, it would be sauerkraut. Preferably delicious homemade lacto fermented sauerkraut.

But, yeah: sauerkraut. It was the only thing missing in my previous hippie slop post.

Insanely delicious hippie slop

No, that is not internally contradictory!

Artichoke hearts, onions, tempeh (how the hell is "tempeh" not in my spacephone's dictionary?!?), Bragg's liquid aminos, with Veganaise (another critical word I just had to teach my phone) and chili garlic sauce. Yum! Even better with the Cheshire Cat watching over it.

It was in the single digits last night, and below zero with windchill. Similar tonight: record low.

Today I boarded the hole in the front door, grabbed a space heater from across the street, tacked plastic sheeting a broken window, and tried to get an update on getting my heat radiators working.

Sigh.

One of the happy notes

This is my kitchen wall.

Flat head screws:

are an invention of satan.

But have I mentioned that I really enjoy working on old houses?

There is fungus among us.

Because I've been neglecting you, dear readers. And because mushrooms are pretty.

Last meal

green Thai tofu mushroom curry fixins. 'cause they're prettier than the final product.

Just said to my friend:

'cause nothing says party like a fifth floor walkup.

Confidential to M:

Thank you for a lovely rooftop lunch.

Food porn, road trip style!

As my faithful readers, all eight of you, have surely noticed, I've been a bit lax lately in blogging. Without going into too great of detail, since I think all of you probably already know some of the story, it has been a busy time.

Relocating from NYC to the Rust Belt. Finishing one job, starting another, flying across the country to pack up stuff to drive back across the country. In the last week, I have been in thirteen states, and slept in seven of them.

But I know why y'all come to my blog. So here is some road trip vegan food porn to satiate your burning needs:

This is from the lovely and strange Crystal Jade restaurant in Omaha, Nebraska. The fake meat was fucking delicious. The vegetables were astonishingly tasteless. Incredibly tasteless. (Yes, J: it defied credibility how tasteless the alleged sweet potato was. But it was beautifully carved.)

I can't say I'm sorry to be leaving NYC, as I look over in the public library branch I'm typing this from, and see the Bed Bug Survival Guide on the shelf.

The place I'm going is not without its challenges, but it also has immense opportunity.

Thus begins another chapter. I'm excited.

Holy tap root, Batman!

That's a Cherokee Purple tomato plant that was grown from directly sown seed. The tap root alone is over four feet long!!!

Bowling alone

Watching the World Series alone, in the midst of a huge city, where I have many dear friends, and where I'm so ready to leave.

Spent about five hours today in my remote office (which moonlights as the main branch of the NY Public Library). Also alone. And thinking about some dear friends.

Next stop: Oh me oh my oh.

How much I've walked

Faithful readers, you might have noticed it's been a while since I posted. To give you a rough sense, here is what my spacephone tells me I've walked in the last week (mostly in St. Louis, Ferguson, and environs)

Wednesday Oct 8: 12257 steps, ~6.6 miles
Thursday Oct 9: 11856 steps, ~6.2 miles
Friday Oct 10: 11592 steps, ~5.7 miles
Saturday Oct 11: 14205 steps, ~6.8 miles
Sunday Oct 12: 6682 steps, ~3.4 miles
Monday Oct 13: 18552 steps, ~9.0 miles
Tuesday Oct 14: 6738 steps, ~3.5 miles
Wednesday Oct 15: 11912 steps, ~6.3 miles.

No, I have no clue how my spacephone calculates the distance based on the steps.

Wednesday was largely a travel day, but included four hours at the incredibly awesome City Museum in St. Louis.

Seen in a window

Confidential to E, K, and V:

Strong lines. Strong. Lines.

(Leftover vegan nachos.)

What I'm doing with my rainy Saturday morning

Seems like a great time to rehab a box fan that someone mistakenly thought should be landfilled, right?

Worst. Post. Office. In. America.

90 Church Street, New York, NY 10007.

Submissions will be accepted, but the competition is steep from 90 Church Street.

NYC and super garlic bagels

Confidential to Mama: THX THX THX for cleaning my stovetop!

I'm eating a bagel with three cloves of sliced raw garlic just for you!

Dear Downtown C Train:

I <heart> you. You look really good at rush hour.

This is what you get the big bucks for

Stuffing 500 folders into your suitcase.