Bulgar wheat

Bulgar wheat isn't nearly as bad as it sounds. I whipped up a bulgar wheat pilaf last night with Jordan and Brian, after trial yoga run #4 at the gallery, and it was downright edible. I'll be pushing the stuff, especially since when I go vegan in January, I'm going to be seeking out new food varieties to keep me happy.

In pleasant harmony with yesterday's post, it turns out the Thoreau was the first Westerner to identify himself as a yoga follower. That guy must've been an awesome person. It doesn't bother me an ounce that his mother and sister did his laundry, or whatever it was that people like to point out when his living in the woods at Walden comes up. I'd do the same thing. It's not like having someone do your laundry completely brings you back to the bustle of modern life. There's still plenty of hours alone with the fishes and the birds and the squirrels. People do this all the time with me and my 95% vegetarianism: they jump all over me when I sneak a bite of salami or what-have-you. But really, if every one was a 95% veggie, then it's exactly the same as having 95 out of 100 people be full vegetarians, and that's a great thing. Here comes the Einstein quote I always bring up at this point.

"Nothing will benefit human health and increase chances for survival of life on Earth as much as the evolution to a vegetarian diet."