Conscious Choice: Seeking Vegan Wonderland

September 2002 | Conscious Dining

Seeking Vegan Wonderland

by Ethel Hammer and Stephen Kleiman

"They pursued it with forks and hope" — Lewis Carroll, "The Hunters of the Snark"

We never expected to be seeking Vegan Wonderland. We had just exited an international market where live frogs — big as softballs — lay in big tanks ready to be thrown into someone’s frying pan. Two soft-shell turtles awaited similar fates. There were chicken hearts prepared in plastic. Beef tongues on ice. Live eels for the taking. The chopped off duck legs finished us off.

We are not vegans. Still, we reflected on the words of a sage who once said he stopped eating animals, not for his health, but for the health of the animals. This idea —and this market — still haunts us. We may well be carnivores by nature, with no hope of extinguishing this natural urge, which may even be necessary for some physical types. But what if more nonvegans embraced vegan alternatives, even once or twice a month? Cries of animal anguish would diminish worldwide. The world would be a less violent place if fewer animals formed the questionable distinction of fueling our bodies. As Thoreau said, "I have no doubt that it is a part of the destiny of the human race, in its gradual improvement, to leave off eating animals, as surely as the savage tribes left off eating each other when they came in contact with the more civilized."

Of course, Chicago’s vegan restaurants have been leading the charge, some for decades. The little secret nobody wants to say is this: Too many are cultish. Too many offer flavor profiles too mellow to appeal to a broader range of tastes.

Still, why cannot vegans and nonvegans join in concerted action to build a more humane world? If only we could all think a bit differently, mainstream households might someday debate dinner thus: "Forget about Chinese or Italian. Let’s do Vegan tonight."

So, with visions of veggies dancing in our heads, we entered Alice & Friends’ Vegetarian Cafe, 5812 N. Broadway — which offers vegan fare (with the exception of some of its shakes). Would this tiny restaurant, with its handful of tables and flickering candles, prove a portal to Vegan Wonderland?

"I’m hoping for a mini Mad Tea Party," Stephen said. After all, they offer green, jasmine, orange spice, and black tea. Dinner started auspiciously enough. The yummy, vegan Lady Finger appetizer was actually seven itty-bitty rolls, each deeply fried, each filled with red bean paste. "These can replace my bubble gum cigars," said Stephen, ready to play the March Hare.

Next, he longed for the dimpled pleasures of Alice’s Dumplings. Unfortunately, six green, gummy potstickers arrived, dumping him out of Wonderland and causing him to flap his lips instead of licking them. "They don’t taste homemade," he sobbed.

Now the problems really started. Glass Noodles with Veggies did not transport us through the looking glass. Instead, it disappointed with a banal stir-fry of carrots, broccoli, mushrooms, and cauliflower over semi-intriguing sweet potato noodles. Lemon Tofu left us falling through a rabbit hole with nothing flavorful to hold onto. (In fact, it left our friend fantasizing about a Lemon Tofu he’d savored elsewhere.)

Korean Style BBQ, however, was nicely spiced and very filling. It contained soy protein like many other menu offerings. It gave us hope.

At this point, we went home, where Stephen jumped on the kitchen table. "This is my call to united vegan action," he cried. "It has five points: (1) "Veganism is too important to the health and humanity of this planet to be allowed to stagnate in outmoded culinary concepts, while great chefs keep galloping on. We need more talented chefs to devote themselves to vegan and vegetarian cuisine, using their know-how, the right vegetables, seasonings, marinations and combinations to make vegan food with terrific flavors. (2) Chicago abounds with great ethnic restaurants, which could help build this category in a snap. As patrons, let’s encourage them to use international spices and techniques, to create dishes with vibrant taste profiles. (3) If you believe the vegan restaurant you frequent could do better, don’t be intimidated. Tell them. (4) Regarding vegans through the lens of cultism only arouses hesitancy in chefs who might otherwise create more vegan meals. It also inhibits customers who might otherwise willingly take the plunge. A cuisine cannot grow with any depth or velocity if you tell people to‘get used’ to tastes or say‘this is good for you.’ (5) Vegan fare can and should be able to stand on its flavor alone. Most diners decide with their taste buds."

Determined to say ta-ta to the days of "throw-’em-a-bowl-of-veggies," we subsequently entered Anatolian Kabob, 4609 N. Lincoln, a Turkish Mediterranean restaurant that advertised "New Hormone-Free Steaks/Kabobs Now Available Here." Seated at a cozy table with a pink tablecloth, we listened to haunting recorded Turkish music, contemplating the promise of hormone-free lamb (as well as steaks, when they have them). We opened the menu. A flurry of asterisks denoted "vegan dishes."

"Turkish people love meat," a waiter explained. "We serve vegan foods because our customers want them."

Energized, we dove into an appetizing, vegan Red Lentil Soup sumptuously perfumed with fresh mint. We gobbled down four scrumptious vegan Dolmahs — stuffed with pine nuts, rice, parsley, and Turkish seasonings. We lapped up a delicious nonvegan bowl of homemade yogurt in dainty slurps. As for the lightly fried vegan Falafel Sandwich, it differed from Greek, Lebanese, and Syrian falafels; it was much milder, less complex, with a flavor we cannot describe. Next, we enjoyed a delicious Anatolian Stuffed Eggplant, an admirable, vegan "boat" sparkling with minutely diced eggplant, onions, green peppers, mushrooms, and sautéed tomatoes. Happy and content, we shared a nonvegan custard with a tasty caramelized crust, the scintillating Kazan Dibi.

"One Turkish tea, please!" Stephen cried. A tiny glass arrived...with a teensy-weensy spoon...and itsy-bitsy sugar cubes....We clapped hands in glee. "Our Tea Party, at last!" we cried. "What an amazing life when you can enter Vegan Wonderland via a Turkish Kabob House!"

Alice & Friends’ Vegetarian Restaurant, 5812 N. Broadway, Chicago, 773-275-8797. Hours are Monday through Wednesday, 11:30 am to 9:00 pm; open until 10:00 pm Thursday through Saturday. Closed Sunday. Appetizers from $3.75 to $4.49. Entreés from $4.75 to $7.99. Drinks, smoothies, and desserts from $1.99 to $4.49. Anatolian Kabob, 4609 N. Lincoln Avenue, Chicago, 773-561-2200. Hours are Monday through Thursday, 4:00 pm to 10:30 pm; Friday and Saturday, 11:30 a.m. to 11:00 p.m.; and Sunday 11:30 am to 10:30 pm. Appetizers, salads, soups from $1.50 to $7.95. Entreés from $3.00 through $14.95. Sandwiches from $5.75 to $6.75. Desserts, beverages, and sides from $1.00 to $3.50.

Ethel Hammer and her husband Stephen Kleiman are foodies committed to making Chicago a toxic-free food zone.

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