Go Fork Yourself.

"Oh, look! Fat guy on a health kick."

That's what I think they're saying; that's what the look on their faces says to me.

Who's "they", you ask? The over-prepared, self-righteous make-up wearing divas that strut the Organic produce aisle in their designer boots; the very ones at my preferred market-style, vegan-friendly grocery store who are, coincidentally, annoying. They are self-indulgent, judgmental and over-dressed. I mean, really, who needs to spend more time getting ready to go than they actually spend shopping?

Naturally, I garner some looks from those types with my grey, cotton urban-camo hoodie and matching-shade grey track pants, a grey Fruit-of-the-Loom t-shirt and beige Timberlands. I certainly don't look white-collar, but then again I am not there to do anything but get my goods and go. 

Maybe it's just odd to see a six foot tall, 285-lb biker-like ogre picking through the organic sweet potatoes and searching for the nicest organic lemons, among other things.

Perhaps when I am down to 210 and rocking the shiny Adidas sweat suit I'll fit in a little better. Insert eye roll here.

The funny part about the "health nerds" in the "good section" of the market is that you really can't even begin to guess who is truly healthy, from the outside looking in. I recently watched another documentary, by the fine folks that did Forks over Knives called The Engine 2 Diet, which featured a number of real-life participants who went through a life changing re-education about whole and healthy foods, led by diet creator Rip Esselstyn.

Enter rich insurance broker and family. The stereotypical All-American couple. Good looking, thin, well-dressed couple, big house, great backyard, gorgeous kitchen... the neighbors you want to know; the people you want to be. The wife, a vegetarian of 19 years, was even surprised at the changes led by Rip, and the kids were, allegedly, happy with the results of the dietary recommendations that spanned from wholesome panini sandwiches to fresh vegetable pizza to dairy-free ice-cream concocted of simply near-frozen banana.

Chances are I'd have exchanged scowls with Mrs. Vegetarian at the grocery store, in my aisle, in a momentary showdown just before we raced each other to grab the last bunch of organic kale. Chances are we'd have completely misjudged each other: I'd have considered her presumptuous, and she'd have expected I knew nothing of what I was perusing. Both of us expecting the other was in the wrong place.

Ironically, we should both be there, among other people, and quite feasibly that is the only aisle we should be shopping in. After all, why do we ever need to shop in any other aisle, especially the ones that contain boxed, canned or bagged foods?

It occurred to me while shopping the other day just how colorful, and tempting and tantalizing, and misleading and disgusting the other 90% of the store was, as I walked through Any_Typical_Big_Chain_Grocer_Name_Here the other day to take advantage of their sales on organic apples and pears. I asked myself,"What on Earth happened that we are completely and utterly dependent upon processed foods? And why haven't we caught on as a whole society yet?"

Is convenience really that convenient?

I am taken back to my childhood and reading the Laura Ingalls-Wilder Little House On The Prairie series of books where her future husband, Almanzo Wilder, was describing the excitement of life on his family farm where treats included having maple syrup poured on snow to create an instant hard-candy. Even better, the mention of having a hot potato kept in his pocket that he would eat once it cooled. What about the talk of the fresh pies, and preserves, and winter stores kept to make it through the tough, long, cold winters of off-season farming?

Nowadays, if we want something we just go buy it and unwrap it.

I am all for human progress and technological advances, but what happened to our ability to be self-sufficient, sustaining, creative, independent, productive and capable of feeding ourselves without commercial dependency?

And more importantly, what happened to our knowledge of how to be the aforementioned individuals? Is that in itself another example of the breakdown of the basic fundamental family unit? Surely we are more responsible than that!

I consider myself of above-average intelligence. I would also describe myself as a "fairly good" cook who is "capable" in the kitchen. I thought that surely the transition to vegan, at a dietary level, would be simply a matter of swapping ingredients out. Trade offs. Substitutions. I was pretty well wrong.

I have had to relearn the basics, like a new language. Cooking temperatures and times, textures and blending, seasoning and spicing, it's all new. Results are not what I'd like, but I've certainly developed some fantastic products which I expect to patent, such as super concrete, mega bricks and something I call Revenge cookies which are only to be served to people you truly, truly dislike. For good reason.

One of my first creations was a "replica" (and by "replica" I mean something that looks, tastes and smells nothing like the original intended product) of Vegan Dad's home-made sausage. Let's just say I think I found a secret recipe for space-grade bolts that NASA should consider for future interplanetary station construction.

On the other hand, I have also concocted some excellent soups, a consumable pseudo-burger based on a brown-rice-and-chickpea burger recipe, a lasagna based on the Engine2 Diet veggie lasagna recipe, and a handful of other snacks, entrees and other meals.

Naturally, the better the ingredients, the better the meal, thus I find myself in the organic sections of the big chain stores more often, and anticipating the interaction with a local farm once CSA and co-op farming slots open up in the season changes. In the mean time, I use the best produce I can find.

The toughest part about finding the good produce is knowing what that truly is and means. Before that part, you need to know what the difference is. If you asked me a year ago to purchase ALL organics, I'd have laughed. 

"It all comes from the same place," I'd tell you, continuing my theory with," they're just re-branding to get you to pay more."

I am sure that in some cases, I was right. Then again, if the organic stuff is legit, you can taste, touch, see, smell and yes, even hear the difference. But to know the difference you have to be willing to try, and trust is tough to earn in a poor economy. Who wants to "try" a $9 bag of oranges, when you can pick up the same thing in a $5 bag. Surely I can't be the first person to have been so suspicious and I definitely won't be the last.

We simply don't know what we're talking about any more. If we did, we'd change our ways. Until then, though, we just follow the herd through the field of boxed items, past the check outs to our cars and back to our kitchens. Thankfully, I've broke ranks.

So far, I am just a few days shy of completing Month One of my lifestyle change.

I can see the difference in how my clothes fit. Others have commented on my weightloss, mainly in my face and neck (probably because I'm dressed almost all the time). I have only weighed myself once. I have never quantified results on this blog, as promised at the beginning simply because this is my journey, not anyone else's, and everyone will have their own results.

That said, I encourage everyone in my life to begin the same change. Although I've generally been amicably teased and mocked, I am patient. I understand every person must experience their own "pop", or their own "Aha!" moment. Sometimes it takes some coaching. Mine did. Had I not watched Vegucated or Hungry for Change I might still be where I was six months ago.

Now, instead of preaching I simply refer friends to documentaries I've seen. The most recent, and most likely the easiest to digest first run through (no pun intended) is Forks Over Knives. Unlike documentaries I've seen prior, it doesn't blatantly hammer anti-meat and anti-dairy visuals and instead eases you through it in the same way they recommend you transition: Add more of the good, and the bad will phase out naturally as you crave it less. The message is simple: Replace junk foods and carnivore-centric items with plant-based items. 

Chopsticks aside, if you can put down your knife and consume most of your meal with a fork it's probably ideal. Some exceptions apply.

But don't take my word for it, Fork yourself here. 

In the mean time, I'm headed back to the grocers for more organics carrots to juice and hopefully to grab one more bunch of kale before it's all gone. Perhaps if I see Mrs. Vegetarian, I'll get her opinion on the wheatgrass, but I'll be sure to put my old band back on my ring finger so she doesn't think I'm flirting.

With tine regards,
FatGuy