A Pilgrimage to Herbivore

As noted below in my post from last week about my first experience with flight, I recently traveled to the San Francisco Bay area for a rare vacation. My intention had been to track down as many vegan restaurants as I could within reasonable distance and to sample some of their fare. I quickly found out that Berkeley, where I was staying, is overflowing with a huge number of restaurants offering up more food options than this hapless French-Canadian could handle. Most meals with my non-vegan host Joshua ended up shared in the wide variety of Korean, Taiwanese, Indian and Mediterranean restaurants to which he introduced me, few of them vegan, but all of them with numerous clearly-marked vegan selections. (I'll definitely elaborate upon this in a future post.) My solo exploring is what twice brought me to a place about which I'd only ever read on the internet, often from from others who live on or have traveled to the West coast.

Herbivore: A Backgrounder

Herbivore: The Earthly Grill has three restaurants in the Bay area. Two are in San Francisco and its most recently-opened location is at 2451 Shattuck in downtown Berkeley. All locations are vegan and feature an international menu. The Berkeley location has a really laid back atmosphere and left me surprised with its affordable prices. During my visits I saw that it attracts people of all ages and backgrounds, whether vegan or non-vegan. I had been to a couple of vegan restaurants a few years back in the Philadelphia area, but nothing with as extensive a menu as what I ended up gawking at just outside this restaurant's front door upon arrival, almost afraid to go inside before weighing at least a couple of options lest I end up drooling over a menu at my table for hours.


I hadn't been sure of what to expect of the place in terms of either service or atmosphere, although I'd heard enough recommendations concerning the food to have a pretty good idea that
I wouldn't walk away horribly disappointed. My biggest issue as it turns out, was what the heck to try first. For those of you who don't live in large urban areas (and I'm guessing that many My Face Is on Fire readers fall into this category), you probably understand what it's like, if you do choose to eat out, to scan a menu hoping to find something--anything--that's vegan-friendly. There's usually not much deliberation involved; you find an item or two on the non-vegan menu and you order it, grateful for it and relieved that you're not actually the 'picky' eater your friends and family may sometimes accuse you of being so that you're content enough with whatever it is that ends up on your plate.

When faced with dozens of possible options, though--whoa! I hail from a big-town-pretending-to-be-a-small-city where the closest thing we have to a vegan restaurant is a juice bar that serves up a couple of randomly selected mostly-raw entrees a day, but with no guarantee from one day to the next that those entrees won't contain a bit of egg or involve some sort of cream-based sauce. It's a crap-shoot at best. The feeling of having every single thing on the menu from which to choose is a strange feeling to someone like me. Herbivore left me embarrassed at just how long it took me to figure out where the hell to begin with what I desperately hoped would be a a prolonged fling with it during my visit to the area.


I decided to indulge and to order something I keep forgetting I love as much as I love (a grumbling thanks to my cheap juicer's having broken down some time ago): I ordered a small glass of carrot juice. More specifically, it was carrot-ginger-lime juice and it was simply amazing. I quickly made a mental note to start saving up for a good juicer as soon as I got back to Canada; it's well overdue. Since I had spent the previous five days enjoying Korean, Indian and Egyptian food (as well as what could qualify as some vegan-friendly junk-food), I was drawn to the idea of selecting something that felt pretty back-to-the-basics and maybe even something akin to comfort food. I chose Herbivore's Lentil Loaf, which comes with mashed potatoes, sauteed greens and crostini bread, with a choice of either roasted beet sauce or a tomato-sesame salsa. I chose the former, ever a lover of beets, although given the chance to have this again I think I'd opt for the salsa for a bit more zing.

I hadn't noticed on the menu that the entrees come with salad, and the one they brought me almost immediately could almost have been a small meal in itself. I'm used to limp mesclun mix or dodgy romaine when ordering salads back home. These greens, though... sigh! They were firm and crisp, tossed with red cabbage, a bit of cuke and a perfect tangy Dijon dressing, topped with a few token cherry tomato halves and grated beets. I'd hardly had a chance to dig in (thanks to my food photo fetishism which led to my snapping away photos of the aforementioned salad for several minutes and then typing away about it) when the entree was brought out. It was a lot of food! The mashed potatoes were wonderfully fluffy and generously coated with mushroom gravy. The lentil loaf and roasted beet sauce were earthy and subtle, and although I'd initially thought the sauteed greens--mostly kale--a bit too salty, a drizzle of lemon juice transformed 'em; alternating bites of them with the loaf and beet sauce, I realized how nicely everything on the plate balanced out. The crostini was crisp on the outside and warm and soft in the center and just right for sopping up gravy (if one can admit to 'sopping' in a restaurant review). The truth is that five days into my visit, I was enjoying what was quite possibly one of the best hearty vegan restaurant meals I'd ever had.

My second visit to Herbivore was not meant to be my last. The place was busy. It was a Saturday and just crawling up to dinnertime. I started with a coffee and not unlike almost all of the coffee I enjoyed during my stay in the Bay area, it was strong and delicious and served up with a side of soy milk (which isn't often an option in these parts, although the independently-owned coffee shops around Fredericton are coming around with the increasing demand for dairy alternatives). I had a lengthy mental checklist of dishes I was determined to try before leaving Berkeley. From the Starters section of the menu, I'd spied Nachos (vegan nachos when dining out in Fredericton = soggy cheeseless nachos). The Salads section? The Raw Kale Salad was a huge temptation, and given my recent obsession with Thai cuisine, I was quite curious about the Green Papaya Salad. The Entrees section of their menu left my head spinning: Ravioli, Red Curry, Quinoa Cake, Quesadillas, Lemongrass Noodles and their Macaroni and Cheese were all high on my list of things I was tempted to try. I was definitely planning to have their pizza--at least once! During this second visit, I almost gave in and ordered the Phillo Dough Pie ("filled with spinach, tofu, cheese, mushrooms, onions, capers, artichoke hearts with roasted red pepper sauce and sauteed greens"), but since I anticipated returning at least twice, once to take my host out to Sunday brunch and again by myself on my last day in the Bay area, I decided to opt for a more simple and familiar selection.

I'd had a vegan "chicken" Philly cheese steak sandwich in Philadelphia a few years earlier (and subsequently at home again a few times from 'Kitchen Chez Mylène' when my Pennsylvanian ex visited me in Canada). For some reason, it felt right to revisit it here at Herbivore over 3000 miles from home (and something like 2300 miles from Philadelphia). I ordered two sides with it--the salad with the Dijon dressing, and their potato salad (made with carrots, celery, red onions, parsley and Vegenaise). The sandwich felt a little decadent. The French bread was soft and fresh and just barely crusty on the outside. The chicken substitute and the grilled onions and peppers were plentiful and topped with a scandalous amount of gooey Daiya cheese. I don't often buy cheese substitutes at home and tend to be frugal with the Daiya I do get from time to time because of its price. Herbivore certainly didn't skimp.

I regretted having ordered two sides with it, though. I'd opted for the tossed green salad, my taste buds still fondly imprinted with my previous salad experience there, but the smallish handful of greens wasn't as crisp and impressive this time around. Also, although I'd been charged the full price for it as a side, the portion seemed a little less than half the size of the side salad a customer beside me received with his own sandwich. The potato salad was saucy and although I'd been expecting something more creamy and mild from the Vegenaise listed in the ingredients, it was a little bit more vinegary than expected, but this worked perfectly to complement the milder cheese taste of the cheese steak sandwich.

So? If you're ever in the San Francisco Bay area, you'd be a little silly to pass up stopping into one of Herbivore's three locations. The number and variety of selections on the menu are almost embarrassing. The food in Berkeley was oh-so-far from disappointing and the service was fast with both attentive staff and what I gleaned was a really efficiently-run kitchen. The Berkeley location is bright and has an uncluttered feel to it and even offers a bit of outdoor seating. Calling ahead for dinner reservations might not be a bad idea, particularly for more than two people. My only other heads up concerns the noise level. As with most places with hard surfaces and where people can sometimes be seated closely together, it can get a little loud when it's busy. If you combine this with the noise of whatever contraption it is they use to make their beverages, it's possible that someone with noise sensitivity issues might find it a bit much, which is easily solved by stopping by at times other than peak hours. When I dropped in a few days later with my Bay area host, hoping for a leisurely brunch over a shared Sunday New York Times, the clatter left him asking that we relocate to a different location. I don't mean to overstate this, however. During the two solo visits I made, one during the early afternoon and the other just at the very beginning of the dinner rush, noise had not really been much of an issue at all.

I really do hope with all of my wee blackened heart that at some point in the future, my travels involve a return to Berkeley; if or when they do, another meal (or three) at Herbivore will definitely be a must.

Reading Between the Lines in Restaurant Reviews

Why is it that over half of all vegan cookbook or restaurant reviews in the media always start with the writer asserting quite adamantly that (s)he has rejected veganism? The most trivial of reasons are given in a flippant manner and, before the actual review has even begun, the writer often finds a way to disparage or misrepresent veganism or vegan-friendly products. This is often done by perpetuating misconceptions and stereotypes of vegan food; it's also too-often nestled in a jumble of misunderstanding of what is even meant by "vegan" or "vegetarian". What's funny is that readers who may be most interested in reading reviews of vegan or vegan-friendly restaurants in their area are likely vegan or at least open to the idea of eating plant-based food. What could possibly be accomplished, then, in using antipathy as a starting point for an article? And what could possibly be so difficult about doing a small bit of research beforehand -- particularly when writing for the public -- to actually get simple facts and definitions straight?

Part One

In a recent piece on a media website in Pennsylvania called Upper Moreland-Willow Grove Patch, "classically trained chef" and self-described "avid carnivore" Heather Greenleaf provides readers with a review of a restaurant in Huntingdon Valley, PA called Wild Ginger. It's not really the critique of the dishes served up at this "restaurant specializing in vegetarian and vegan cuisine" that is problematic -- it was actually mostly positive; what left me rolling my eyes was mostly the context she provided for the review.

For instance, Greenleaf presents processed meat substitutes as being some sort of necessity for those who don't consume animal flesh. She then describes her own negative experiences with a few of them as having left her opting not to play masochist with her taste buds and as having cemented her decision to continue eating non-human animals :

In recent years, I have tasted various garden burgers, imitation bacon products and tofurkies. In each instance their displeasing taste and texture have confirmed that I simply don’t have the commitment needed to adhere to this diet.

I've served up substitutes to any number of non-vegans over the years and have more often than not witnessed positive reactions. Regardless of this, though, who needs heavily processed meat substitutes to not eat animals? Has she been reading too much of Mark Bittman's gibberish?

Perpetuating the idea that vegan food is generally yucky to set the tone for a review of a vegan-friendly restaurant is bad enough; it's when she contextualizes further and goes on to spell out what she describes as "levels" of vegetarianism, however, that she really fumbles quite badly.

[Her many friends] eat at various vegetarian levels – some eat fish but not red meat, some eat beef but not pork, and some have chosen to be vegan, giving up all animal proteins including dairy and eggs. [...] Each of their diets has many restrictions, and I imagine that it is hard for them to find something on a menu when eating out.

Of course, eating one species of animal but not another is not "vegetarian", and I hardly think that choosing not to eat cows would in any way leave anyone struggling to find something to eat on a menu. Also, veganism is most certainly not just a variation or "level" of vegetarianism (nor is it merely a "diet" for that matter). It's evident that Greenleaf is horribly confused about terminology and even basic biology, though, when she writes that she and her dining partner were "committed to eating like we were vegetarians" and that they proceeded to order octopus: "I’m not sure whether cephalopods count as meat, or if they are technically fish, but the dish was wonderful."

The rest of Greenleaf's review involves discussing and praising actual vegan dishes, although again dwelling on how "realistic" the meat substitutes in one were. Even though she does go on to praise the food she and her friend consumed, her positive review still remains swaddled in misunderstandings of both vegetarianism and veganism -- and she leaves her readers no doubt that she is convinced that the vegan food she did actually try at Wild Ginger was more an exception than the rule.

Part Two

A second review I read this morning was featured on Houston's CultureMap media site. In "Where's the cheese? A meat eater takes on the new Heights Ashbury coffeehouse's vegan offerings", writer Sarah Rufca begins by making it clear that the idea of not using animals for food is unthinkable to her, and that sending her to review vegan dishes was a mistake: "Cheese is my favorite food, and my second favorite food is all meats. It's just not going to work."

As if to present herself as earnestly wanting to try to find something positive to write, she insists that the decor at the coffeehouse was swell. The bulk of her food review, on the other hand, was mighty unfavorable. What's worse is that she twice mentions grading dishes "on a vegan curve", as if it's to be expected that the taste and quality of the food should be lesser without animal products. She also ends up assessing dishes based upon how accurately they mimic non-vegan dishes which ordinarily rely heavily upon animal products:

I ordered the macaroni and cheese dish, which I'll admit upfront was a mistake. At the moment, I was working under the impression the food was merely vegetarian, and I was not remotely ready for the introduction of a cheese sauce imposter. As far as cheese substitutes go, this one wasn't terrible [and i]f I was grading on a vegan curve I would call it not bad, but compared to the real deal it just doesn't hold up.

She comments positively on the Niçoise salad she orders, but then assesses it in terms of its lacking "the signature fishy taste" which usually comes from the tuna and anchovies in its traditional non-vegan form. At this point, I had to wonder if it had occurred to her to try a dish that wasn't attempting to offer itself up as a plant-based replica of one which ordinarily relies on some sort of animal product. So many non-vegans -- and sometimes vegans, too-- have a hard time thinking outside of the omni-box when it comes to meals; they readily assume that vegans need fake _____ on their plates for a dish to be satisfying and delicious. The coffeehouse's website lists no menu, so it's hard to speculate whether or not she had some options made available to her which weren't simply trying to emulate ordinarily animal-product heavy dishes.

She spends the rest of the review finding something to criticize about each subsequent dish she samples -- the only item that's praised is a glass of lemonade! The truth is that Rufca walked into the place with her mind already made up about vegan food. She sums up her visit by bringing up the "vegan curve" again, making it clear that expectations concerning vegan food should somehow be lower: "If it wasn't vegan food, it'd be terrible. But for what it is, maybe it's OK." To be fair, it's possible that the food at the coffeehouse Rufca reviewed actually wasn't great. Whether or not it was, though, it never really stood a chance of being assessed for what it was, instead of being assessed for what it was lacking. Even if it had been tasty, I've no doubt that Rufca, too, would ultimately have left her readers thinking that it was just a fluke in the otherwise gustatory wasteland which she believes vegans inhabit.

Meeting Halfway for Good Eats

During two separate trips to Pennsylvania this past year, I found myself developing some pretty strong emotional ties to a little place in Reading called Good Eatz Green Cafe. Initially started as a gluten-free bakery, Good Eatz eventually rolled out a cafe to accommodate various food allergies and preferences. I first heard of it after a few internet searches to find someplace near my host's family's home where we could sneak out for a bite and where I could find some vegan fare. No, it's not a vegan restaurant, but it was within an hour's drive of where I was staying, had the most intricately labeled menu I'd ever seen in a non-vegan restaurant and had a sort of laid-back "mom 'n' pop" vibe that left my friend and I feeling comfortable from our very first visit.

Some of my favourite picks from the menu were the Harvest Salad (roasted butternut squash and grilled asparagus on mixed greens, tossed with a cranberry white balsamic vinaigrette with dried cranberries, spiced walnuts and carrots), the Sautéed Vegetable Wrap (containing broccoli, butternut squash, sun-dried tomatoes, onions, peppers, grilled asparagus and hummus) and the Vegan Grilled Reuben. The Marinated Tofu "Burger" was OK, as was the Vegetable Burger, but if I get to visit again, I'll likely go back to that scrumptious Harvest Salad or try out one of the numerous other vegan options they have on their menu (the Vegan Shepherd's Pie and Vegan Veggie Lasagna were tempting). Their wraps and sandwiches are all served with a fresh date, some pieces of orange, a pickle and one of the 2-3 salads of the day (either fruit, pasta, potato or rice based and so the waitress told me, always with at least one vegan option).

The servings were generous and the service was great. The prices were reasonable, too. A few of the times we went, someone was setting up to do an open mic sort of thing and the crowd was always a balanced mix of college students and older ordinary looking folks. We always managed to find a table in the small place that offered us privacy, which was really nice. I've lost track of how many times we ate there -- four or five? I'd been looking forward to four or five more and do hope to return someday.

I hadn't felt comfortable blogging about it up until now, because the truth is that the place does sell animal products, which is usually greeted with a sigh and a shrug by those of us who are stuck in towns or cities with no vegan restaurant options. The place also perpetuates the whole "organic is better" myth, unfortunately, when it comes to the animal products it serves. One waitress informed me during a visit, however, that the vegan portion of the menu at Good Eatz has been increasing quickly and significantly since they've opened and that the demand for vegan fare is obviously there and growing. Fingers crossed that this place of which I've grown nostalgic for other reasons does at some point end up with a completely vegan menu. In the interim, if you're ever in Reading, PA and in need of a place to eat, check them out and talk to them about wiping the animal products off their menu.

Meat Moves Over -- US Food Trends

Caterer Search, a hospitality industry website, has an article today about the steady rise in demand for meat-free options in eating establishments around the US. Unfortunately, many of the chefs quoted cite using oodles of cheese in their meat-free menu items, but not all of them. It's still quite interesting to read something like this on a trade website. The focus seems to be on the overall greater healthiness of meat-free options, as well as on the increasing diversity available as they're offered up on menus around the US. There are statistics on vegetarianism and references to the many reasons some people shun animal products, as well as the reasons some are now seeking to limit their consumption of them. It presents the trend in a completely positive light, which is good to see.