C and I just got home from a weekend stay in San Francisco with my dad and stepmom. We had a lovely time, and I plan to write a bit about our adventures eating in one of the least vegan-friendly areas of the city. Seriously, to spend much time in Fisherman's Wharf is to forget that there are foods that don't come either breaded and fried or drenched in cream sauce and served in a bread bowl. Don't worry, dear readers, I didn't drink that particular Kool-Aid. (There was no vodka in it, anyway.)
|The lighting was bad, okay? It was a bar.|
|This the shape my dreams will take from now on.|
Our pizza was a whole wheat Chicago style pie, which, if memory serves, is a layer of crust, topped by sauce, toppings (artichokes, mushrooms, spinach, and garlic), cheese (Daiya!), another layer of crust, and more sauce. It sounds good and tastes even better. It ain't cheap. That 14 inches of sheer, orgasmic vegan pizza indulgence cost more than $30. But, wow, so so so good. I've already promised to take my sister there when next she visits again.
|This pic is also dark because I was too lazy to move to better lighting.|
Finally, I would be remiss if I didn't mention the wonderful salad that C made last night. I know I make it sound like I do absolutely all of the cooking around here, but it isn't so. I only do about 70-75 percent. C may quibble with that percentage, but last night he made a veganized, super-healthy waldorf-style salad with blanched kale, raw apples, toasted walnuts, Field Roast sage sausages, and avocado. It was wonderful. I'm including a picture just so you know how lucky I am.