In One Person-John Irving, (Simon & Schuster, 2012)

Hello all.  As you may have noticed, there was no new review for The Compassionate Bookshelf for the month of April.  For this, I am sorry.  Life has intervened in the form of the end of the semester in grad school.  Studying to become a full-fledged librarian is intense work.  If you are inconsolable about the lack of a new read, please check out this brief review I have posted on Goodreads of John Irving’s new novel “In One Person.”  Just look for the one by Kelly Buchanan, yours truly.  The book should be available for purchase (or through your local library!) on May 8th.  Enjoy, and I will see you later in May!

http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/12758317-in-one-person

“As part of a wave as old as the republic itself, the Endangered Species Act (1973) gave nature, in all its forms, a right to exist.”

Listed: Dispatches from America’s Endangered Species Act - Joe Roman, Harvard University Press, 2011

Sometimes surprises come in academic publishing house packaging.  Joe Roman’s Listed:  Dispatches From America’s Endangered Species Act is one such treat.  Roman, a researcher at the University of Vermont, serves up a work that is weighty but also readable and undeniably important.  The book’s Harvard University Press stamp may be initially off-putting for some, but the content here is far from a purely scientific treatise.  Part memoir, part court room drama, part scientific adventure, backed with a huge helping of hard facts, Listed offers an intricately detailed, multi-shaded perspective on the fight to protect some of the most rare plants and animals in the world. This is a plea from an expert in the field for the importance of this piece of legislation and what it stands for.  Drawing on scientific research, works of literature, giants in the field such as John Muir, and our own cultural consciousness, Roman presents a fully realized, cogent case for the vital nature of preservation.

Roman has chronicled for the reader important moments in the history of conservation, the Act’s place within this history, and important steps for the future.  We also ride along on a variety of exploratory trips within communities of scientists around the country, affording a unique look at the day-to-day operations of many of the people involved in conservation efforts across America.  This personal involvement invests the reader in the frequent heartbreak experienced in this line of work.  Years of research in inhospitable conditions can often lead to disappointment in decisions made by far-removed courts and legislatures.  However, Roman also offers us a sense of some of the joy felt in these communities when progress is made, recovery occurs, or protective legislation is supported.

Listed does not shy away from the often contentious nature of the Endangered Species Act and its enforcement.  Roman plunges headfirst into court battles, legal precedent, vocal dissidents, and difficult choices of priority.  Fully acknowledging the complexity of such questions as human use of natural resources, development and progress, Roman’s book unfolds on a large canvas.  For example, Roman notes, “The paradox:  in order to protect our notion of wilderness, we must meddle with it more and more, from the landscape level all the way down to the nucleotides that form each species’ DNA.”  The tricky, slippery-slope of human intervention in nature is navigated deftly by Roman, who argues that, of course it would be preferable to let ecosystems stabilize on their own, but the fact of the matter is that the initial human interference with these systems has rendered this impossible in many cases.  Species hunted to the verge of extinction or left without primary food supplies due to development may be faced with no other option for survival than reliance on the dedicated work of biologists, ecologists, geneticists, and other scientific experts to monitor and propagate their struggling populations.

One of the themes running through Roman’s book is the fact that simply understanding individual species and their needs will not give us a complete picture of the problem.  A chapter on the study of the origins of Lyme disease argues for a complete understanding of ecological systems and biodiversity.  What if the spread of this disease through ticks has been caused not, as has been commonly argued, by the white-tailed deer as host animal but by mice?  A more complete understanding of this eco-system may provide key information about the origins and dispersal of a highly threatening disease.  As Roman argues, “The global spread of pathogens—West Nile virus, yellow fever, schistosomiasis, and malaria, to name a few—and their vectors offers the strongest link between the decline of biodiversity and human health.”  Earlier in the work, Roman also outlines an economic defense for biodiversity.  In this picture of the economy “nature is once again benevolent:  it is the provider of goods, food and fiber, and services–cycling nutrients, forming soils, supplying water, cleaning the air, controlling erosion, and capturing carbon.”

In a particularly effective section of the book, Roman takes a tour of the stuffed toys in his daughter’s toy chest and frames a discussion of the priority given to traditionally “like-able” animals in funding for endangered species protection.  Money, Roman recognizes, is often the key to a species’ survival.  Problematically, however, “we’re stuck in a childlike view of the world, where furry animals—ones that resemble us or that we can fish and hunt—grab our attention, while multi-legged, sedentary, burrowing, nettled, tiny, or slimy are left out in the economic cold.” With a scientist’s eye, but also with a father’s, Roman tells us that engaging in the preservation of these species is not a priority because it is nice but because it is vital.  We live in ecological systems that are interdependent.  When one species fades away, all are effected.

Roman’s humor and unreserved passion for his subject matter draw the reader in and bring varied perspective to this broad and often complex piece of legislation.  The work comes down in favor of the multi-faceted Act but cautions us that serious funding and conservation work are necessary to make the legislation’s protective measures effective.  Roman ends the book’s main section by detailing practical recommendations to support success in the road to stopping extinctions in our lifetimes.  There is plenty in this book to fret about.  Some of Roman’s statistics are staggering and upsetting.  The work’s strength, however, lies in its ability to engender hope in the reader.  There are stories of loss here, but also stories of success, of recovery.  Most valuable of all, Roman gives us a glimpse into the world of those passionate individuals who make it their life’s work to hope and to fight for those beings without a voice.  So, here’s to the midnight muck-waders, whale poo sift-ers, and sleepless document-ers.  Humanity’s capacity for destruction is high but so to is its will to discover and to make amends.

If you haven’t noticed from my writing on this blog, I am somewhat of a pacifist as well. So you might be asking yourself at this point why, as a pacifist, would I like taking classes where I learn how to beat other people up? Well, let me give you a few reasons:

• It’s a great way for me to vent my mind. I’ve never really been great at meditating, otherwise I think I would find myself doing that.  I find that when I enter the classroom for these combat classes, I am bringing with me all heavy things that are weighing on my mind (bad stuff happening in the world, arguments with friends, messing up on a project, etc…). Once we start the class, I can take all of that stuff, bundle it up, and let it out. I end up leaving with less weight on my mind (and hopefully around my waist!)

• I burn about 2,000 calories in one hour, and tone muscle at the same time. You can’t say that for many workouts, and taking care of my physical body is just as important as taking care of my mind. Especially when it comes to maintaining my ability to cope with the world around me, seeing all the bad stuff, and having the strength and fortitude to develop solutions to them, and/or do what I love doing most, helping other people to feel empowered to be problem-solvers.

I have to admit that before this, I never really studied his writing very deeply. I knew the basics that we learn in school, but never really dug into some of the specific things he had to say. Throughout this experience I learned many things, but five things in particular were very profound.

• Change is going to happen whether we like it or not. We know that life happens. Days and years come and go, and with their passing change happens. It’s inevitable. How lucky are we that we have the opportunity to shape that change? Dr. King knew this, and that’s why it was so important to him to gather people around civil rights, and it’s what lead him to non-violent action. He knew the world of his dreams could not be created through violence, it could only be created through dialogue and peaceful action.

• Without a vision of where you want to go, you’re never gonna get there. Dr. King’s famous I Have A Dream Speech was just one of his messages to the world that conveyed his dream for a better world. Throughout his writings, he illustrated an inspirational vision to his community, his colleagues and the world at large.  He knew where he wanted the world to end up, and that not only gave him a road-map as a leader in the civil rights movement, but helped him inspire others to join him. And those very same people are still leading today, and they are still using his vision to get others involved in leadership.

• Adding diversity doesn’t simply mean adding color. Having diversity in our communities is such a hot topic these days. And rightly so. Our communities should have opportunities for and be inclusive of everyone. However, when it comes to creating diverse communities, we cannot start with just adding people who’s mere presence will bring with them diversity. No. Our systems won’t support or encourage that expression of their unique gifts and talents, and who would want to be put in that position? So we must re-imagine our system; our very culture, towards a vision like Dr. King’s, where we judge each other by the make-up of our individual character, and not the color of our skin our ethnic background or any other grouping we humans choose to assign to one another.
  
  
• There’s always something we can do. I am very lucky that every day I see the kinds of things people are doing to create a better world through my work with the Jane Goodall Institute. I still hear and see many people saying, especially with issues around race, that there’s little we can do. There is ALWAYS something we can do, and if there’s not a better role model for that than Dr. King, I don’t know who is. I feel that I “did something” just by reading his works. I am all the more wise now, and that helps me in the way that I approach the world in my everyday life. In our Chalice Circle we noted in every session, examples of racism we see on a daily basis, so what can we do about those? Stand up to them just like Dr. King. Challenge people’s thinking, invite them to use different language, and erase that kind of thinking all together. That’s what we can do. And there’s so much more beyond that, but that’s another blog post.
  
  
• The greatest antidote to hatred, is building community. I have heard this many times before, and forgive me if it’s a quote from someone in particular. I can’t find it. If you know the author, please leave a comment below as I want to attribute it appropriately. With this chalice circle, and with so much of my work in the world, I see that simply building community is the best antidote to hatred. When we come to know each other, we lose fear, and without that fear, we have no reason to hate. Dr. King’s method of non-violent protest was a way to challenge people, but also to face fear, face hatred and build a community. We must take a lesson from his work, and know that if we follow it, we will build better communities, and remove hatred from our lives. 
  

Our discussion group has now finished, and we’re all moving on to other things, but I think that we’re all moving on a little more enlightened, and recommitted to working towards Dr. King’s dream, and the dreams of so many others: for a better world, that honors each individual for their inherent worth and dignity, not the color of their skin, or a group they belong to.

Tell me, have you read any of Dr. Kings writings? What are some things you’ve learned from him?

 Article image retrieved from http://www.fotopedia.com/items/flickr-1054179588, and used under a  Creative Commons Attribution license. 

The Quickening Maze-Adam Foulds, (Penguin Books, 2009)

“He loved lying in its lap, the continuing forest, the way the roots ate the rot of leaves, and it circled on.  To please himself, to decorate his path to sleep, he passed through his mind an inventory of its creatures…And just before he fell asleep, he saw himself, his head whole, his body stripped down to a damp skeleton, placed gently, curled around, in a hole in the earth.”

Adam Foulds’s novel The Quickening Maze, a finalist for the Man Booker Prize in 2009, tells the story of troubled 19^th century nature poet John Clare.  Through Clare’s eyes we are able to see the varying realities that shape his world.  As Clare navigates his day-to-day existence in the High Beach mental institution outside of London, past, present, and the natural world converge in powerful and frightening ways.

Foulds’s novel is a dream-like mixture of gritty realism and an exploration of the more fluid world of the mind that shapes our perceptions of the world around us.  The Quickening Maze offer us intimate pictures of the tenuous social bonds that serve to knit humanity together.  We see not only through the eyes of John Clare but also through the poet Alfred Lord Tennyson, who visits the town to be near his brother.  We also catch glimpses through the girl who becomes enamored with Tennyson, as well as her father Dr. Matthew Allen, proprietor of the asylum.  Though Foulds’s novel inhabits the Victorian world, the characters’ numerous Dickensian absurdities read not as litanies of “quirks” but as pieces that help to mold complete people.  This novel invites us to blur our preconceptions of “mad” or “sane” to think about what “reality” may mean to each soul.

As is touted through numerous reviews of this work, the writing here is beautiful.  Foulds creates a heady, hazy concoction of passing seasons and half-recollected conversations that reminds the reader of a particularly significant memory.  The potent character voices offer rumination on religion, nature, love, and society, often through worlds of the mind, peopled with angels and long-dead lovers.  In the dreamscape created in this novel, the life of the mind may be as razor-sharp and palpable as the reality of the physical world.  In fact, the “real” world, as presented here, is one in flux.  As seasons roll by at unspecified lengths, various scenes are presented as if by the dappled sunlight on a forest floor, indistinct and soft, but with a beauty specific to this kind of selectiveness.

At its heart, Foulds’s lush novel asks the deep question of what it means to create selfhood.  In examining what things come together to make up an individual, who defines what encompasses that person?  Are imaginings less valid than experience?  How do we separate memory from the present?  Foulds enacts this delicate process by crafting fully realized characters based on real, historic individuals.  Resisting the temptation to string together lists of historic facts culminating in sketchy, puppet-y versions of real people, Foulds’s Clare and Tennyson operate as individual entities, thinking and living in the world of the novel.  They fit seamlessly into the sensory experience of the novel, lending to the work an earthy reality in its presentation of the play of perceptions.  The Quickening Maze offers an impression of the blessings and the dangers of “unconventional” life and asks us to question the often distinctly linear, uncompromising way we define ourselves and the world around us.

Beautiful & pointless:  A Guide to Modern Poetry–David Orr (HarperCollins, 2011)

“poets are constantly confronted not only with widespread ignorance about their art, but with the fact that anything they write will inevitably disappoint an audience conditioned to associate poetry with sublimity.”

At the risk of jumping on the advertising bandwagon, touting various ways of keeping those New Year’s resolutions, January’s pick just might offer some support in a quest to expand intellectual horizons.  David Orr’s Beautiful & pointless:  A Guide to Modern Poetry takes a look at a medium which can be intimidating for some readers.  As Orr’s poignantly funny introduction states, the “death of poetry” has been declaimed and debated for years, but real discussions about  reading and exploring contemporary poetry, aside from technical or sentimental “how-to” guides, are more difficult finds.  Orr, poetry critic for The New York Times Book Review, presents an accessible look at the thought processes present in modern poetry.  Rather than giving the reader a treatise on iambs, meter, and symbolism, or a lecture on how to be “emotionally open” to the power of poetry, Orr assumes his reader’s emotional and academic intelligence and gets on with a thought-provoking treatment of some of the questions with which poetry grapples, offering the reader a chance at interpretation with the inclusion of numerous poetical fragments in varying styles to illustrate his points.

Beautiful & pointless presents a mature discussion that respects its readers without alienating them.  The questions under scrutiny here are of real consequence rather than purely sentimental or academic.  How do people generally perceive poetry as a genre and why?  What does it actually mean for a poem to be “personal,” and why are we drawn to this?    Orr approaches these questions with an elegant simplicity that cuts directly to the matter at hand.  This is not a book that is soppily congratulatory.  Some poems are bad-badly written, poorly constructed.  Orr empowers the reader to make these sorts of judgements and fights to redeem poetry from the realm of untouchable emotional expression and remind readers that this medium is an art form that can be both enjoyed and critiqued, not simply endured or tolerated.  Readers are encouraged to mentally and critically engage with poetry, not to slog through frustratedly or to unquestioningly admire.

The traditional history of poetry and major poets is worked in here in an unorthodox fashion.  Instead of a chronological timeline of “major poets,” which must, by necessity, be cursory at the best of times and deliberately exclusive, elitist, or biased at the worst, Orr presents major poetic voices as they deal with the issues under discussion in his navigation of poetic questions and themes.  Particularly rewarding are Orr’s treatments of politics and form in poetry.  The work focuses specifically on the ways that contemporary poets play with form in new ways, and through this conversation Orr gently illuminates traditional poetic form as well.  In his treatment of poetry and politics, Orr elucidates both the pitfalls and the power of political poetry. “One of the problems with political poetry,” Orr states, “is that…it exists at the mercy of time, history, and other people.  But that doesn’t mean that poetry itself is passive…as a maker of poems, a poet is always engaged in battle, though the opponents may be unclear, the stakes unknowable, and the victories and defeats felt far away, in different domains, by other people than himself.”  The work explicitly condemns the idea of poetry and poets as “passive.”  Orr reminds us that the beauty we experience in poetry comes about through hard work, not magic.  Furthermore, this fact demands serious consideration, not disappointment.  Orr offers us an image of the poet not as a prophetic oracle strumming Orpheus’ lyre from upon a distant plane, but as a figure engaged with all aspects of our mundane world, including the frustrating world of work.  All sorts of poetic motivations are acknowledged here, from the deeply personal to the passionately political, even to the purely economical.  Still Orr’s work leaves us far from viewing poetry as “pointless.”  Beautiful & pointless shows us works that captivate both hearts and minds and wrestle with issues that shape our world.

Orr’s work strives to remind us that beauty, though it may not appear to affect the world as directly as other modes of action, is both necessary and powerful.  Beautiful & pointless is, in part, Orr’s struggle to put the value of poetry into words.  What he does assure us, is that “if you do choose to give your attention to poetry, as against all the other things you might turn to instead, that choice can be meaningful…out of such small, unnecessary devotions is the abundance of our lives sometimes made evident.”  This is hopefully what this book has to offer its readers.

In this new year, we at Compassionate U hope that the abundance in your lives may be made evident.  Be encouraged to try something new, or return to pursuits that you have once loved.  Take time to enjoy the beautiful in life, as this is never truly pointless.  If you like, start with Orr’s work, which serves up both laughs and poignancy, and offers a great starter reading list if you’re ready to take the plunge (or dip your toe) into modern poetry.  Bishop, Brooks, Collins, Larkin, O’Hara, Ryan, and more are all there.  I wish you a very happy new year, and happy reading!

photo courtesy of stock.xchng

Now that we’re two weeks into 2012, it seems late to be wishing everyone a happy new year, but this is our first post of the year, and so I wish you a very heartfelt and happy New Year. May this be the year that our greatest compassion for all, people, animals and the environment come to be.

If you didn’t notice we took a little break for a few months. A few of us got busy, and a few of us took a little break to really think about what we’re bringing to our readers here at Compassionate U. We have a lot of ideas, we’re gonna try them out for size, and go from there. Continuous improvement, right? That’s what it’s all about.

Here are some of the things we have in store for you:

• Some revisions to the look and feel of the site. We’ve heard from some of you that a more streamlined look would make things easier to navigate and help you know what’s new, and what might be a little older. Okay, done. Easy peesy. We can take care of that.
• Some interactive features with our writers. We’d like to get some of our writers out there with you taking your questions and having conversations about what it takes to be compassionate in this day and age. So some of our writers (me for sure!) are gonna set up some times when we’ll get together and talk amongst ourselves.
• Simple, consistent posts. I think we already have a good handle on this, but we’re taking a look back on 2011 and the posts that were the most popular, continuing with those, and perhaps shedding some of the other styles. You have to prune to grow right?

So as I write this post, know that we’re tinkering behind the scenes to make things better. As always, if you have suggestions, please don’t hesitate to let us know. Just knock on our door using this form.

Living Among Meat Eaters:  The Vegetarian’s Survival Handbook

In choosing this particular book for November, we at CompassionateU have decided to highlight one particular compassionate lifestyle choice.  As the holidays come rolling around again, discipline of any kind becomes challenging, and sometimes, this is okay.  Loving life is important, and vegetarianism is one way that we can choose to honor life in all its forms.

Time for full disclosure.  I still remember sitting, nervously and probably uncomfortably, in my oral examination in defense of my undergraduate thesis project.  After a certain amount of time in discussion of the paper, which focused on feminist themes in George Eliot’s Middlemarch and Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, one of my readers looked up and mentioned an interesting book that he had read that he thought would have been relevant to my project.  “Why haven’t you cited The Sexual Politics of Meat, by Carol J. Adams?” he inquired, as Adams’s book has a chapter on Frankenstein, feminism, and vegetarianism.  In my undergraduate way, I’m certain that I flushed, but I went on to explain that while I found Adams’s work to be extremely interesting, I was currently dating her son, who was also a student at the college.  All three of us in the room had a good laugh, and the evaluation went relatively well.  What you all need to know is that Douglas and I have since been married, and Carol J. Adams has become my wonderful mother-in-law.

At the risk of being accused of a bias, I do want to call our attention to Living Among Meat Eaters.  In this book, Adams puts forth a theory about why vegetarians are often goaded or harassed by meat eaters, and what we can do to compassionately counteract negative emotions.  The most important point to take away here seems to be that while we, as vegetarians, see death in meat eaters’ diets, they see death in a vegetarian diet.  They may view this as a death of choice, abundance or, perhaps most challengingly, as a death of tradition.  The appearance of a vegetarian at the dinner table makes everyone think more critically than usual about dietary choices.  For some, this provokes defensiveness or even cruelty.  While it may be tempting to snap back angrily or defensively in turn, Adams advises vegetarians instead to deal patiently and compassionately with these situations while still maintaining care for our personal choices.  Adams points out that the vegetarian is often cast as prey for predatory conversation, but emphasizes that we do not have to accept this role.  Instead of viewing meat eaters as our antagonizers, can we start to view them as simply blocked?  They are blocked from understanding our diets the way we do.  We eat wonderfully, healthily, and happily.  Rather than seeing our food choices as limitations, we can view them as offering what Adams calls “abundance.”  This is an important distinction, especially around the holidays, when most people’s expectations of holiday meals revolve around a nice turkey, ham, or some other animal-based dish.  What happens to the ritual when the piece determined to be its “center” is threatened?

Thankfully, Adams anticipates this difficulty.  When we are expecting a houseful of meat-eaters for the holidays, what should we do?  According to Living Among Meat Eaters:

 How to Connect at Holiday Meals

 ◆  Indulge as many traditions as possible.  It creates the feeling of continuity, affirms your connections, speaks to the trained appetite, makes you feel included.  You won’t miss what is missing as much if you are enjoying everything possible.

◆  Ask yourself:  Given the circumstance of the day, what would make my meal special?

◆  Make up a title to a recipe that can be specific to the even, like “Aunt Edna’s beans.”  It inaugurates a tradition.  Our mind is associative.  It likes to put two and two together.  Event-related titles for recipes speak to this associative desire.  Then we simultaneously feed the person, feed the memory, and feed the mind.  We prepare people for the following year, when we bring the same dish.

◆  Research your cultural heritage and find out what vegetarian foods have always been a part of it.  That is exciting and surprising, since so many ethnic traditions could not count on a plentiful supply of meat.  Cookbooks are a great help.  You may not be eating the meat on the table, but you can remind your family what traditions you still accept and follow.

◆  If you are invited by a family member who already knows you are a vegetarian, simply say, “I’ll bring my famous hoisin tofu or my famous nutty salad.”  With a host who is new to your diet, you can say, “I’m a vegetarian, but don’t worry about fixing something special.  I would like to bring my famous sweet potato soup, tabouli, noodle salad, [etc.].”  “Famous” helps establish its credibility as a dish.

Text reproduced with permission from the author.

Aside from the wealth of experience and information that this book allows the reader to glimpse, Adams provides a selection of her own famous recipes and favorites.  Speaking from experience, I can attest to the deliciousness of the Tofu Pâté, Tempeh Salad Sandwich, Sourdough Waffles, and Gazpacho.  As a breakfast food enthusiast, I also know that the “Best Scone Recipe In The World” lives up to its name, and the Soy “Buttermilk” Biscuits are a great quick treat on a lazy Saturday.

In language that is welcoming and clear, Adams’s work tackles challenging issues with a level of ease that her communication with vegetarians around the world have brought her.  Though maintaining a positive stance in a world that is not always friendly to your own choices, Living Among Meat Eaters reminds us that others have been where we are, and vegetarianism can be a choice of abundance and compassion that will enhance our lives.

I could pretend to be a beacon of compassion and do-goodery, but I’ve never been very good at lying.

I am car-free, because I believe I have a responsibility to minimize my negative impact on the environment to the best of my ability. But that’s really secondary to another reason:

I don’t like cars.

Sure, there are some great things about cars—convenience, speed, road trips, drive-in movies. But, for me, there aren’t enough great things about them to off-set the great idiocy they’ve brought to our world, such as:

• Highways carved out through trees that were growing and supporting life hundreds of years before the combustion engine was even thought of;
• Populations of people who never raise their heart rate above 75 beats per minute;
• Daily routines that involve fewer than 10 minutes outside of climate-controlled containers; and
• Urban infrastructures so unconcerned with pedestrians that you have to drive your car to the store even though it’s right across the road from your house.

Cars are not the enemy, but they’re certainly not very good friends, are they?

I believe we need to steer ourselves away from a car-centered culture and drive toward something
better:

• Natural areas touched only by hiking boots and tent stakes;
• People who can treat themselves to an extra chocolate chip cookie, because they rode their bike to work and walked to the grocery store;
• Daily routines that involve time outdoors and actually make us want to get out of bed in the morning; and
• Cities where we can walk to a department store without engaging in a game of human Frogger.

See what I mean? It’s not compassion I’m about. It’s chocolate chip cookies.

Amy - Car-Free Guru

Originally from LaPorte, Indiana, Amy Vaerewyck is a writer, focusing non-profits. She’s been car-free since 2006 when her Nissan Sentra breathed its last breath on the highway between Washington, D.C., and the Delaware beaches. Since then, she’s walked, run, biked, bussed, subway-ed, and carpool-ed her way through life. She lives in Denver and dreams of living in Italy. You can read more about her car-free life in her blog, “No Car Go.”

Ingredients

2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour*
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup (2 sticks) Earth Balance or other vegan butter spread, room temperature
3/4 cup granulated sugar**
3/4 cup packed brown sugar**
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/4 cup freshly prepared almond cream***
2 cups (12-oz. pkg.) vegan chocolate chips
1 cup chopped nuts

Ingredients assumption: You’re using fresh and organic here folks. Do us all a favor, buy exactly what you need in bulk at Whole Foods. It won’t break the bank, you’ll get really fresh ingredients, and you’ll be extending your compassion beyond animals, to the environment and to the people who harvest this stuff. 

Directions

PREHEAT oven to 375° F.

COMBINE flour, baking soda and salt in small bowl. Using a whisk beat dry ingredients until well mixed. Beat butter spread, granulated sugar, brown sugar and vanilla extract in large mixer bowl until creamy. Slowly add almond cream, beating well after each addition. Gradually beat in flour mixture one cup at a time to maintain moisture. Stir in chocolate chips and nuts. Drop by rounded tablespoon onto baking sheets.

BAKE for 9 to 11 minutes or until golden brown. Cool on baking sheets for 2 minutes; remove to wire racks to cool completely.

*One time I accidentally used a flour mixture that was half whole wheat and half white flour and they almost turned out better. If you like things that have a little higher fiber content, that’s a way to make these a little healthier.

**For a low-glycemic version, replace granulated sugar, and brown sugar with 2/3 cup each of raw agave nectar and brown agave nectar. If you go in this direction, watch your other wet ingredients to ensure that your dough isn’t too soupy.

***prepared with blanched almonds (boiled and skinned) by blending them 1/4 cup of almonds to 1 cup of water. Use a vitamix or other blender, and blend on low for three minutes. It will seem like a REALLY long time to blend something, but to get a really creamy consistency, you want to make sure you blend for at least that long. If you blend it longer, it won’t matter, other than you’re wasting energy. So stick with 180 seconds and you’ll be good to go.

Note from the cook:

Okay, I know these may seem similar to one original recipe that we all know, BUT if prepared right, they are better than the original, AND more compassionate. That’s what makes them stand on their own if you ask me…and the almond cream. Gotta love it.