Then my husband, who was so gung-ho mere days before, declared that he’d be taking certain days off, like St. Patrick’s Day, because of the heavenly corned beef, and, oh yes, the days leading up to and following his big bicycle race. Fine. I’m holding firm. No meat. No fish. And so, on March 2, only two days in, as my daughter proudly declares she ate bacon at school, I sit down with my delicious dinner of—oatmeal. To my credit, it wasn’t instant. And it had some fresh blueberries on top.
Clearly, I needed an actual plan that included recipes.
Not that I cook meat every day, but I decided to look at this as a challenge to not just cook meatless, but cook anew.
First stop: local recipe blogs. It seemed to make sense that folks writing about veggie food in San Diego would be cooking with products that are fresh and in season now. The site Momsgoinggreenblog.com has a new meatless and fairly easy recipe every Monday. Flourishingvegan.blogspot.com has delectable sweets and other vegan recipes, including a cherry, quinoa and wild-rice salad I can vouch for. 101Cookbooks.com is universally revered, though she’s from the northern part of the state.
After the internet hunt, I hit The Cookbook Store in Kensington (4108 Adams Ave., thecookbookstore-sandiego.com) because the books are all used, and that just seems in line with this whole green thing, anyway. I found cheap copies of Edible: A Guide to the World’s Food Plants and a super-weird ’70s book about vegetable protein that was kind of rad. And, of course, you can hit the library. Mark Bittman’s veggie books are great places to start for those exploring cooking vegetarian for the first time, plus he’s got so many that you’re bound to find one at your local library—though I will say it’s always worth a drive to the North University branch because it has the best selection of cookbooks (and graphic novels) in town.
I needed something to write my recipes in, and though a plain 99-cent notebook would work just fine, I love an excuse to buy fancy paper products. Blick Art Materials (1844 India St. in Little Italy, dickblick.com) has the Moleskine Recipe Journals I covet. I mean, this journal has three ribbon place markers, double expandable inner pockets, a chart of measurements and conversions, a section for cocktails and sticky labels—and it’s hardbound and I want it.
But what about bags for bringing home all the veggies? And what about storing them? I’ve already written about my husband’s hatred of plastic. Bone’s Bags (bonesbags.com), made in Chula Vista, replace those wisps of plastic bags you get in the produce section that are so annoying to open. Bone’s Bags are doublelined and made of nylon net, and I want a dozen. Or two. As for jars, I’ve found no better than the masons at Container Store (7097 Friars Road in Mission Valley, containerstore.com.) I know it’s a big-box, but it’s an organized, gleaming-white big-box with a wall of jars that don’t ever cost more than $6. Perfect for all my new wheat berries and wild rice and farro and walnuts and hazelnuts and almonds.
Time to stock up on food. We all know about our neighborhood farmers markets (sdfarmbureau.org has a full list), and there are some great classic CSAs in town—what with Suzie’s Farm, Seabreeze and Be Wise (for a full list, check out sandiegoroots.org/csa.html). Between my friends and me, we’ve done all three and they all rock. But it’s here that I have to plug the coolest sorta-CSA around: Honeymoon Ranch out of Jamul. Jessica and Sven don’t just harvest the fruits and vegetables from their property (plus a few neighbors’) and bag them up for you, they also make delicious things out of them and deliver those to their Mission Hills drop-off outpost each Sunday. In one recent box: a half loaf of multi-grain bread and a full loaf of country levain, spicy pickled green beans, creamy herb peppercorn dip and whipped-cream coconut cake with Valencia orange-and-mango filling. All vegetarian, I might add. And with booty like that, I know I won’t be living on oatmeal alone. You email them at farmboxes@hotmail.com.
Up next: Carnivore April. Or not. Write to clea@sdcitybeat.com.

San Diego Unseen: An Urban Portrait

