The Vegan Way: 21 Days to a Happier, Healthier Plant-Based Lifestyle That Will Transform Your Home, Your Diet, and You

Introduction

You are free to choose, but you are not free from the consequences of your choice.

—UNIVERSAL PARADOX

If you were stranded alone on a deserted island with nothing to eat but animals, would you eat them? Don’t answer that. I bet you won’t be stranded on a deserted island any time soon. Here’s a better question. If you were given the power to singlehandedly make the world a much better place, for yourself and those around you, simply by eating delicious foods, wearing cool clothes, using fantastic products, and exercising thoughtfulness, would you? There’s no catch. It’s truly that wonderful, and that simple. You hold the power—on your fork with every bite you eat, and in your pocketbook with every dollar you spend. And with The Vegan Way in hand, in 21 days you’ll have all the tips and inspiration you need to embrace that untapped power and change the world.

There are so many uncertainties in our universe but this I know to be true: we’re all here, right now—living, breathing, thinking, and interacting with the world around us. We’re like water drops splashing on the ocean, creating endless ripples, far beyond our sight. This we can all agree on. And I, for one, want to make sure that during this brief, wondrous period of certainty, when I am fully aware of my actions and can make my own decisions, that I live my life compassionately. Therein lies the foundation of being vegan: we strive to cause as little harm as possible. We continually expand our circle of compassion, empathy, and wellness as wide as we possibly can. Here’s why:

BECAUSE WE LOVE OUR BODIES

Let’s face it; we’ve only got one, so we better treat it well. Our bodies are ground zero for all that we do, whether we’re helping others or helping ourselves. Degrees, family, wealth, fame, career: all are 100 percent meaningless to us if we’re dead. But sadly, heart disease, type 2 diabetes, strokes, and cancer, most of which are caused by poor lifestyle choices, are killing over 50 million people every year. Why? Often because saturated fat–filled, cholesterol-laden, hormone- and antibiotic-infested animal products are so darn cheap and accessible. Thanks to junk, mistakenly called food, we’ve created the first generation of adults who won’t live as long as their parents. We’ll talk more about the dark side of the food industry as we progress.

So, does a vegan diet ensure good health? No. And I’d be wary of anyone who tells you otherwise. Some vegans gorge on Cookie Dough Oreos, Unglazed Pop Tarts, and Spicy Sweet Chili Doritos and wash it all down with a high-fructose, phosphoric acid–packed Coke. Vegan? Shockingly, yes; all of it. However, unhealthy vegans are the exception. In fact, for many folks, the desire to go vegan begins with a stern warning from their doctor: switch to a healthy, whole food, plant-based diet, or have a heart attack. The incentive is the gift of good health, and it makes good sense! So stay tuned, because in Days 1 through 10, I’ll walk you through the wonderful world of healthy vegan food, step by step, and show you how to make the switch from eating meat, eggs, and dairy to enjoying affordable, delicious, healthy, easy-to-make vegan cuisine.

BECAUSE WE LOVE ANIMALS

Some folks initially explore becoming vegan for health reasons, but at age twenty-three, and fresh out of college, good health was the last thing on my mind. For me, it was all about the animals. As you’ll read in just a bit, my road to vegan was spurred by a fortuitous encounter that led me to learn how animals are used and abused on factory farms.

Although I was already a vegetarian, I was unknowingly hurting so many animals simply by eating their by-products. I hadn’t thought about what happens to the chickens after they can no longer lay eggs. Nor the dairy cow mothers once they can no longer give milk. Or to the newborn male calves who can’t give any milk at all. Most people believe that as long as the animal doesn’t die to produce the product then all must be well—after all you’re just having an egg, a glass of milk, or a slice of cheese, not a hamburger.

You won’t find any graphic images in this book—we’ll keep the journey as positive as possible—but I won’t skirt the truth. I’ll present the hard facts and set the record straight. The treatment of animals for our food, clothing, household products, cosmetics, and entertainment is nothing short of a horror story, and one that must be told. And it provides more than enough fodder for many to go vegan. In fact, most who go vegan and stay vegan do so for the animals. After all, if we can live a happy, healthy life without hurting them, why wouldn’t we?

BECAUSE WE LOVE THE ENVIRONMENT

When I was twelve I tagged along with my girlfriend on a youth group camping trip. I wasn’t religious, but any excuse to go to explore the woods worked for me. We went for a hike and as we were trotting down the trail, the minister asked us to stop and gather around to behold the beauty of an enormous mushroom. We had never seen anything like it before. It looked so sturdy and soft as velvet; the type you’d see in a children’s fairy tale, one nice enough to be a home to a band of little elves. After admiring it for a few minutes, he said, That’s really something, isn’t it? and then gave it a big kick with his boot as he walked away.

The image of that perfect mushroom breaking into pieces as it was thrust into the air broke a little part of me as well. I know it was just a mushroom, but for me it was the first time I had ever witnessed, and internalized, the senseless and unnecessary destruction of our environment.

If you need resources from nature in order to have shelter, clothing, transportation, food, or any absolute necessities, that’s understandable. After all, we need certain basics from our environment in order to survive. But to ruin the environment for no reason other than greed, selfishness, or apathy makes no sense at all. It’s this same awareness of the senseless destruction of our environment caused by factory farming that inspires so many to go vegan. As we progress, we’ll learn how eating animal products impacts our water, soil, air, oceans, rain forests, climate, and biodiversity. If you care about our environment, you’ll really love how being vegan helps protect it, far more than driving an electric car or taking shorter showers.

There’s a lot to think about here, but don’t worry, this isn’t a sprint; it’s a marathon, with comfy shoes, yummy food, and plenty of time to rest and reflect. Over the next 21 days, you’ll be getting new tips, tricks, and ideas to enable you to make super-easy daily changes that will blossom into wonderful lifelong habits. And you won’t be alone. I’ll be your mentor and your cheerleader every step of the way! No guilt, no shame, just positive advice and healthy energy to guide you through. And you couldn’t have picked a better time to start.

From vegan festivals and cruelty-free cosmetics to vegan grocery stores and cruises, you’ve got it good. There’s never been a better time to go vegan! Vegan sushi, vegan mayo, vegan hair salons, vegan magazines, vegan celebrities, vegan Doc Martens, vegan cupcakes, vegan restaurants in airports, vegan pumpkin lattes, vegan dating sites, vegan wedding planners, all-you-can-eat vegan buffets, vegan doctors, vegan beer, vegan nail polish; there’s even vegan meringue for a vegan key lime pie! If you’re thinking you’re going to be alone and bored at home eating a slab of plain white tofu, you are in for a big surprise! It’s no wonder so many of the folks I’ve helped have been able to make the switch. Vegan everything is everywhere!

So why should you trust little ole, five-foot, ninety-eight-pound me? Sure, I’ve got degrees and awards, but that’s not enough. Far more important, over my twenty-eight-plus years of being vegan, I’ve kept an open mind, and an open ear. I’ve learned a lot about what helps and what hinders people who want to be vegan. You want positive reinforcement, not buckets of blame. You want simple suggestions, not complicated recipes or hard-to-find ingredients—all that you can figure out on your own, if and when you want. You want to be fit and healthy, and have an occasional sweet treat once in a while, too. You want to know what the best vegan foods are for special occasions, but also what’s most affordable for every day. You want to learn from others who are already happy and healthy vegans, rather than be misguided by those who are neither. You don’t want to start from scratch, scrambling around on the Internet trying to figure everything out all alone. Whether you live in vegan hot spots like Portland or Los Angeles, or in a small town in the middle of Tennessee, you want someone to guide you through, in the easiest possible way. If you fall, you want someone to say, Hey, it’s OK. Dust your knees off. Tomorrow’s a new day! And that’s why I’ve written this book: to tell you everything there is to know about going vegan, exactly how you want to hear it, and how to put it into action—now!

Whether it’s for your health, the animals, the environment, or a combo of all three, going vegan is affordable, easy, and fun. And you’re not alone. Over 8 million Americans have already made the switch! Are you ready to get started? Follow me and let’s go!

MY Road TO Vegan

We all traverse different paths throughout life’s adventures, be it our careers, relationships or life goals. Some folks seem to meander effortlessly with grace (or so it seems), while for others, reaching what they want is akin to swimming through thick mud, in a winter parka, with boots on. Well, kick back, get comfortable, maybe grab a warm beverage or some fresh lemonade, and I’ll start by sharing how I became vegan, and how I arrived right here: writing a book dedicated to you.

I never really thought about the importance of good food growing up. I just ate whatever my mother made and served to our small family. There were no Twinkies or Wonder Bread in the cupboards, no colas or orange pop in the fridge, and with the exception of one memorable occasion, never a TV dinner in the freezer. I was lucky in that sense. All meals were cooked from scratch and with great care, and until I became a teenager, I truly enjoyed them.

My mother was British and a master of traditional English fare: Yorkshire pudding, Shepherd’s pie, roasted meats, creamy sauces, and other European recipes passed down through the generations. My Croatian father had an outsized sweet tooth, second only to my own. He was a ship captain during WWII and, since meat and fresh greens were limited at sea, he developed a preference for light-colored foods such as breads, potatoes, halibut, eggs, and pasta with butter. My mother always took this into account when cooking, and so although our meals were always tasty, they generally looked like food you’d find in a British Pub: heavy, with ribbons of brown and white.

As a child, my mother’s comfort food was more than fine with me. I grew up in the small coastal town of Pacific Grove, California, where we were socked in with fog for most of the year. Locals are known for joking I never knew a winter as cold as a summer in Pacific Grove, so any food that was warm and filling fit the ticket. Then one chilly evening our little West Highland terrier nudged my leg under the table hoping to coax me into tossing him a bit of meat from my dinner plate. This sneaky maneuver was nothing new; Angus knew he’d get a treat from me. But for some reason, this nudge was different; it triggered my mind to spin unlike ever before. I began to think, How can it be OK to pet our dog under the table, while stabbing my fork into a cow atop it? Why was I feeding a dog, while eating cow? How was this fair? Who made this rule? And most important, why did I follow it blindly?

And remember that one and only occasion when my mother bought a supply of TV dinners? A few days later I ate one and bit into a piece of chicken, and there it was: a bright purple-blue stringy vein. My teeth had snapped it and left a piece hanging on the bone. It hit me; this food called chicken was actually a real chicken, a once-living, breathing, with-a-heart-that-beat chicken. It was then that my thirteen-year-old brain also realized that liverwurst was actually made from someone’s liver and that Thanksgiving dinner was celebrated around a dead bird. So many things my mother fed us had once been alive; I had just never fully processed it. Until then, I simply hadn’t made the connection.

And so it was 1977, I was thirteen years old, and I didn’t want to eat animals anymore. I didn’t have any vegetarian friends or family, nor did I know of any vegetarian celebrities, athletes, or politicians, but it didn’t matter; my mind was made up. I just ate the sides that were served with our family meals, and slowly but surely, realizing this wasn’t just a phase, my mother made more meatless meals for me to eat. She knew not to use the meat spoon to stir anything I was eating, and baking my meal alongside or within a meat dish was a big no-no, too. I wasn’t about to pick out my vegetables from a beef stew. And somehow a British meat-eating mother, a ship captain father who had a penchant for plain white meals and pastries, and their budding vegetarian daughter all managed to share in dinner together at the table every evening.

Our Westie’s nudge also led me to question the status quo at school. My mother made me a lunch each day, so meals were never a problem, but in my freshman science class we studied genetics by raising our own little batch of fruit flies. We kept them in tiny baby food jars in the back of the classroom where we painstakingly documented the ratio of red eyes to white. On the last day of the experiment, my teacher instructed us to grab our jars and said he was going to pass around a rag wet with ether for us to place tightly over the opening of each jar. I didn’t understand the purpose, so I asked him to explain, and he replied, This is how we kill the flies; we’re done with them. As I watched my fellow students take turns following his instructions, I became increasingly nervous as the rag made its way to my corner of the room. I decided to let my teacher know that I was going to let my fruit flies go outside instead. He told me, sternly, that if I did that, I’d be releasing my scientific experiment into the world, and I’d be responsible for adversely affecting our entire environment by letting them escape and that I did not have permission to leave the classroom. I returned to my desk for a few minutes while my classmates looked on. I was visibly upset and they were wondering what I was going to do. I, however, knew exactly what I was going to do. I waited patiently until no one was looking, and I snuck outside to set them all free, and I’m pretty sure the world isn’t any worse off for it. A pattern of questioning those more powerful, while following my own moral compass, was starting to take shape.

Then it was off to UC Berkeley, where I would study the History of Science with more like-minded folks and where vegetarian food wasn’t a novelty; it was a staple. There were none of the vegan bakeries and vegan specialty stores so abundant today, but there were more than enough vegetarian restaurants and food trucks to make me happy. During an elective for the California Public Interest Research Group (CALPIRG), I even created a pamphlet of all the healthy food sources in the city so that other students could easily find them.

Looking back, one would think I’d become vegan in Berkeley, but I didn’t. At twenty-three, I moved to Los Angeles and became a substitute teacher. This choice gave me the freedom to make my own schedule while I tried to figure out which career I wanted to pursue. It also freed up my time and allowed me to participate in a few peaceful protests throughout the city, which led me to my second, and most fortuitous, enlightenment. A demonstration I attended at UCLA was winding down, and a girl who was visiting from Canada asked me if I wouldn’t mind giving her a ride to her friend’s house. I don’t normally give strangers a lift home, but she seemed nice enough and had just spent the entire day marching and chanting to free cats from brain experiments, so I took my chances and obliged.

We hopped in my tiny ‘76 Honda Civic and I started to drive, making casual chitchat along the way. We talked about why we love animals so much and why we don’t eat them, and then she asked me something no one had ever asked me before: Do you drink milk? I had no idea where she was heading with the question, but I answered truthfully, Yes. Don’t you? She then proceeded to tell me that by drinking milk, I was actually harming the animals just as much as by eating a burger, as the male dairy calves are sold to the veal industry where they spend their short, miserable lives in small metal crates, and the dairy mothers are ultimately killed after they can no longer give milk.

This friendly stranger continued to tell me about each animal product, and why she didn’t eat any of them. She even told me she didn’t eat honey. What could possibly be wrong with eating honey, I thought. She explained that her uncle had a bee farm in Canada and she saw firsthand how the bees were squished each time they put the giant lids back on the hives and that there was no avoiding it. By eating honey, she reasoned, we’re killing bees, and we don’t need to. And that’s why I’m vegan, she said. And by the time I dropped her off thirty minutes later, I was vegan, too. I said good-bye to the only vegan I had ever met or knew of, and I never saw her again. As my tiny car door closed, a new world opened.

From that point forward, I wanted to learn all that I could about the link between animals and our diet. I bought books, wrote to animal rights organizations for pamphlets, and went to libraries to do research. In the late ‘80s, like most folks, I didn’t have Internet at home, so I’d use the Medline Database at medical school libraries to read journal abstracts. They were dense with medical terms, but I muddled through them. And the more I learned, the more I realized that my diet and lifestyle impacted so much more than my personal health and the animals. It also affected the environment, the economy, and social justice issues, too. I knew, and still believe, that by becoming vegan, I was helping everyone. It was the butterfly effect and I was more than ready to help it flutter onward.

After a brief time teaching high school history in East Los Angeles, I realized that although I enjoyed studying history in college, teaching it was another matter. If someone was facing an early death because they ate poorly, or consumed toxic water thanks to factory farms, historical facts in textbooks would be of little significance. I became convinced that understanding how to take care of oneself and the surrounding world should be the foundation of education. Once these basics were mastered, students could learn whatever they want. First and foremost, however, was to learn to be well.

Fueled by a newfound desire to become a high school health teacher, I went to the Los Angeles County Board of Education and studied their health books, took an exam, and earned a teaching credential in health sciences. Ironically, I was in the midst of a breakup and had stopped eating. Far from a role model of good health, and at only seventy-eight pounds, I was certain I’d never score a position as a health teacher, but my will was strong, and my mission great, and somehow I beat out the competition and landed a job at a local high school. Most of the students lived in poverty, either in nearby projects or were bused in as overflow from inner-city schools, and needless to say, the school had its share of chaos. My list of unhappy moments include having to run for help when I saw someone step out of a car on campus with a gun (and a baby in the backseat), and putting my hand in feces on my classroom doorknob. If there was ever a school that needed a few extra seeds of respect and compassion, it was there.

I started each day by writing the word RESPECT on the chalkboard and reminded students that health was about respecting your bodies, inside and out. It wasn’t just important to eat well and exercise, but to also respect the natural environment and people surrounding them as well. I covered up all the drab surplus gray-green paint with purple, replaced the old food pyramid charts with plant-based posters, and decorated my podium with over a dozen inspirational bumper stickers, with Speak your mind, even if your voice shakes front and center. I was determined to have my classroom be a center of freedom of thought and creativity, where one could become inspired to make the world a better place.

I tried to illuminate the really fun aspects of being vegan, too. I took my students on a field trip to The Gentle Barn, an animal sanctuary where they could meet, pet, and hug the kind of animals that adults had told them to eat. I bought a wok for the classroom so when I talked about a new vegan food item, such as tofu or kale, we’d whip up samples and enjoy them. And we even planned and held a vegan Earth Day Health Festival in the spring for the entire campus and community.

My work on food policy garnered local, national, and international interest, and I soon found myself traveling across the state and country to attend conferences and to share my thoughts on healthy living, always trying to encourage folks to consider going vegan along the way. Even when I received the national Healthy School Hero Award in Washington, D.C., sponsored by the National Dairy Council, I took the one thousand dollar award and gave it to the Physician’s Committee for Responsible Medicine’s campaign to get dairy milk out of public schools. (Thanks for the dough, Big Ag!)

Shortly thereafter, People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals asked if I would lead their education department, and I accepted. I packed the car with my cats and a few belongings and drove from Los Angeles to Norfolk, Virginia. I soon found myself absorbed in animal rights more than ever before. From begging a school board to rescue a pig at the county fair in Miami to speaking on the evening news on behalf of fish in Malibu, I was determined to be a voice for the voiceless and change the world.

Unfortunately, my father died the day I arrived in Norfolk, and within a few weeks, I received a call from my significant other of five years that he was no longer following me to Virginia. Yep, by phone. My life turned upside down, and only got worse—much worse—after that. I decided to head back to California, where I was surrounded by familiar faces, but my life was at its lowest low, somber fodder for another book, another day. I was completely lost and was forced to restructure my life entirely. I immersed myself in law school, started writing My Vegan Journal, and began a Facebook page where I could inspire and help people transition to becoming vegan across the world. Just as when I entered that interview at seventy-eight pounds, I was determined to get my life back on track, and help others while doing so.

My life has had its ups and downs, but I’ve never doubted my decision to become vegan. In fact, I’m not even sure I can call it a decision anymore. I’m vegan because I’ve evolved. Just like Cro-Magnons evolved into Homo sapiens. It’s just who you are; it’s who I am. I’m vegan and I can’t imagine knowingly hurting an animal ever again. But I do know what it’s like to face those hard situations, where you feel like you’re all alone, and no one understands what being vegan is all about. I’ve had to tell my doctor on more than one occasion what a vegan diet entails. I’ve been the only vegan at celebrations. I’ve fallen in love with someone who ate meat (and married him!). And I’ve had to sit down at dinner and see those disappointed faces when I let my in-laws know I wouldn’t eat the meal they worked so hard to veganize because although they used dairy-free butter, it still contained oil from fish.

Uncomfortable situations? No doubt. But would I change a thing? No way. Feeling alone or misunderstood is a small price to pay in order to help reduce the horrific suffering in the world. I can’t complain. I’m happy, healthy, energetic, and so gladdened to see that veganism is more visible than ever before. But most important, I am ready to inspire you to take the plunge yourself! It’s not a challenge; it’s an adventure. So, let’s go!

Thought FOR THE Day

There are about 795 million people in the world who are hungry. That’s 1 in 9 people … more than the entire population of the United States, Canada, and the European Union combined. The grain we feed to animals could feed nearly 350 billion people. If we stop raising animals for meat, and give people the grain instead, everyone would have plenty of food. ‘Tis true. People can feast or famish; it’s up to me, and you.

Setting A Date

You can be successful going vegan no matter when you start, but boy, can you make your life a whole lot easier if you pick the right time! Can you imagine being a big meat eater and deciding to go vegan the week of Thanksgiving, or right before a wedding? Is it possible? Of course! Easy? Probably not. How about going vegan just before Christmas, and finding yourself forced to look happy when you unwrap that woolen cable knit sweater from Aunt Marge? Or opening that box of See’s Candy and having to eat that obligatory "Mmmm! Thank-you!" piece. Yikes.

Don’t get me wrong. In terms of the environment, the animals, and your health, the best time to go vegan is right this second. If I had my druthers, I’d waive a magic wand. Poof! You’re vegan! But try to think of this as a relationship you want to nurture; one that will last forever. You don’t want a quick romp in the sack, or a two-week fling. You want true love, not a flash in the pan. So let’s make a plan, Stan! Just keep these things in mind:

THERE IS NOT, NOR WILL THERE EVER BE, A PERFECT DATE TO START.

It’s true; if you’re waiting for the perfect time, you’ll likely be waiting forever. There’s a good, great, right, better, and even an absolutely phenomenally fantastic time to go vegan. However, if you’re waiting for the perfect something or other it’s usually just a thinly veiled excuse to avoid it. There is no perfect time. I experienced this while writing, or rather attempting to write, this book. I’m so incredibly grateful and excited to have the opportunity to write, but boy, did I spin around in circles waiting for the perfect time to start. I first blamed my procrastination on my crappy coffee (who can write while sipping a weak cup of Joe?), then it was my computer (who can type with annoying Windows 8?), then it was my five-dollar, secondhand chair (stop making me fidgety, ya stupid, cheapo chair!). I kept replacing one thing after another, creating excuse upon excuse, assuring myself that I couldn’t possibly write a book until I had all the proper tools, supplies, snacks, beverages, lighting, clothes, ambient noise, and