Brother Ron - My Vegan Icon

It's hard becoming a vegan, no question. The world is not terrifically accomodating...and making a big decision about anything based on morals and ethics drives people to test you..."You can't really be vegan because you bite your nails...You can't really be vegan because you swatted that mosquito...have bacteria and mites in every bite...just ate that chocolate bar...aren't skinny..." And so on. So we need our heroes during the transition, and Brother Ron Pickarski was one of mine. Assured, smiling, ever-ready with a helpful bit of vegan propaganda, "As many as 1,500 chemicals are used as additives in ice creams," he informed me, "None of these will be listed on the label." That's a great craving-killer when all I could think about was Chunky Monkey.

When I was a new vegan, fresh off the boat from the land of french-fry and cheese pizza vegetarianism, Brother Ron was my idol. It was in his cookbook, Friendly Foods (10 Speed Press, 1991) that I found the soup recipe I've adapted for you, along with many other natively vegan recipes. I loved them all...the mushroom pate with fifty different herbs and spices, all the fake-meat stews and steaks, the various stuffed vegetables that always impressed...but even more, it was his hubris that I latched onto as a budding cook unsure of the capabilities of my new, plant-based repertoire.

"He considers himself a 'food missionary,' helping people to transform their lives through food in a way consistent with Franciscan philosophy," says the blurb next to his picture (the man sells his own fake-meat mix, I wonder if that is also consistent with Franciscan philosophy), "I don't just try to make these dishes taste as good as traditional foods," says Brother Ron, "I make them taste better.." How could you not love that...especially with the wonderfully fey picture of him holding one of hi "Culinary Olympics" medal-winning meals?

Brother Ron held my hand as I learned the difference between a coulis and a casserole, he was there with words of encouragement like, 'There is no such things as eating 'perfect.'" Cheese was the hardest thing for me to give up, so I turned to Brother Ron to commiserate, "Shortly after I gave up cheese, I had a craving for a piece of my favorite cheese, "he writes. "I promptly went to the refrigerator, sliced a piece of the block...and enjoyed it to the last bite. But I have never eaten another cheese sandwich since." Thanks to Brother Ron, I still occasionally eat a slice of vegetarian pizza with the cheese.

But don't tell.