A funny thing happened to the photographer on the way to documenting this event…
Could I really have a supper club post without pictures? I don’t think so. So, I recruited professional artist, Roger Gilles, to re-create the event for us. Thank you, Roger! For donating your talents at no charge.
What began as a promise of spring turned into cold wintry weather! Below, Griff and Kendra warm themselves by the fire before the feast begins.
Everything looked delicious! Shawn Kohlhaas tantalizing chickpea salad was the first thing that enticed me.
Medha Kosalge’s upma was a perennial favorite…
But who could concentrate on entrees with all the delectable desserts on offer? Below find the pies that attracted much attention (though I was also wooed by Morgan’s brownies..personally. Just saying). Molly’s pie was beloved. And Cindy’s pie reminded us of an old supper club story, oft told around the campfire with some celery root roasting on the spit (more on that later).
Mary Johnson deserves particular praise for getting things going in the clean-up area (apparently I forgot to designate a clean-up volunteer!). Here Roger documents the hard work it takes to get that kitchen spic and span.
As we were preparing to go, Geoff Fields came up to us with a proclamation.
“I’ve got an idea!” Geoff said. “I think next month we should get a jump on Cinco de Mayo and all cook Mexican!”
That remains to be seen. But what we do know is that we closed the evening with a reverent telling of one of our origin stories that has come to take its place in the annals of vegan lore. We call it:
The First Plantsgiving
A long long time ago before your grandmother’s grandmother’s grandmother learned to tie her apron strings, the event of the year was Plantsgiving. At the very first Plantsgiving, the Pilgrims and the vegans and Indian guys came together by one consent to celebrate the harvest. Fearing the cold winter ahead, the group was moved to share the summer’s bounty together. An enormous carrot was rendered and roasted and everything…everything! was to be shared.
Pilgrim Cindy brought her very special crumb-topped apple pie. When all were asked to share their desserts, Pilgrim Bert pulled Cindy aside and said, “Why share our apple pie with the rest of the pilgrims and the vegans and the Indian guys when we could have it all to ourselves?”
Pilgrim Cindy, remembering the creed to ‘be nice, even if only for dinner,’ said, “But doesn’t that go against the rules?” To which Pilgrim Bert replied, “Rules are meant to be broken.” No one had ever thought of this before. The other pilgrims at Cindy and Bert’s table were swayed by this argument: “Let’s keep the pie! Let’s keep the pie!” they chanted.
And keep the pie they did. All to themselves. Greedily, they ate their pie while the nice pilgrims and vegans and Indian guys shared all that they had. In the end, everyone had enough to eat and everyone was satisfied. But the pilgrims who didn’t share went home with a heavy heart. They felt badly about the pie. It worked on their conscience (and they weren’t even Catholic). Down through the generations the story was told. If you were a pilgrim who shared everything, the story of Plantsgiving is one of joyous celebration in the midst of want. But if you were a pilgrim descended from the group hoarding the pie, you are filled with a sense of remorse that time cannot erase. The moral of the story is: S/he who hoards the pie will forever bear the shame of not being nice.
As the dinner guests bid one another farewell, they remembered fondly and admonished one another to always be nice! and to share, even for just one meal.
Requested recipes are forthcoming…