Veggie Tales

Walk the aisles of most local grocery stores and you’ll still find tomatoes, green beans and big heads of lettuce—all the summer season foods you love. Only this time of year, they taste more like starchy, watery cardboard. Not so with tender beets, robust cauliflowers and spicy kales. This time of year, these foods and […]

I have a good friend named Melissa. Like me, she is a vegetarian. Unlike me, she is a very thin person, a trait that is often attributed to the fact that she enjoys the meatless way of life. Every time I hear someone say, “Oh, she’s a vegetarian, that’s why she’s so skinny,” I laugh to myself.
And here’s why: If one were to put together a short list of the primary components of Melissa’s diet it would include french fries, Doritos, bean and cheese burritos from Taco Bell, more Doritos, fettuccini Alfredo, more Doritos and an occasional Orange Julius thrown in the mix, although I’m pretty sure she only drinks those to avoid getting scurvy.

Well Bendites, it's here.
June 21 has come and gone, you've wrapped up your pagan solstice rituals, tweens have started floating the river and the sun is coming out on a fairly reliable basis. Your coworker has even stopped smugly saying, “Welcome to Central Oregon” any time someone mentions a change in the weather.
It's also about this time that, for vegetarians, the sense of dread that has been building all spring long finally becomes a full-fledged panic. It's barbecue season.
For some, barbecues mean parties and fun, but for vegetarians these backyard gatherings bring what I like to call barbeque shame. If you've ever had to tote plastic-wrapped veggie burgers from party to party, or asked a host to use a clean pair of tongs to turn your not-dogs so as not to contaminate them with the cursed blood of the beast, then you know what I'm talking about.

This shepherd's pie is different. It's hearty, flavorful, filling and, oh yes, vegetarian.

Editor's Note: This is the first column from local writer (and former advertising executive turned forestry student) Rachelle Hedges about her experiences as a vegetarian in Bend. It will appear once a month in this space.

I'm not a hippie, or a communist either. I don't belong to PETA. I don't eat “rabbit food” and I don't actually like portabella mushrooms, or eggplant, or any other vegetable commonly used as a meat substitute at weddings, for that matter.
I am, however, a vegetarian.
Now you see why I had to tell you all that other stuff first? Because it could have been really easy for you to get confused.
I've been a “veg” – as my friends like to call this affliction – since I was about 13 years old. No need to get into the nasty details of how it all got started, I'll just say it involved a visit to a distant relative's cattle ranch, a calf named Chucky and some serious emotional scarring. I'll let your imagination do the rest for you – because that's part of the magic of reading, right? It's been 15 meatless years since that moment and I'm still on the veggie train – full steam ahead to Tofurkytown.