One of the many windfalls of moving our studio to the downtown Arts District is the wealth of local small businesses in the neighborhood. Amongst the bike shops and cafes and many, many third wave coffee joints, there’s also a high-end market.

Most of the businesses in this neighborhood are new and all of them serve a clientele—ourselves included—that simply didn’t exist here even a few years ago. The area was largely anything but residential until recently, filled with vast warehouses and shipping centers, mostly, but now, after laying empty and dormant for years, those same spaces are being converted to living spaces and working spaces and the change in the area is undeniably evident. Yes, it’s gentrification, but it seems like mostly a victimless gentrification with so few residents in the area to begin with and one that’s mostly welcome. Maybe that’s naive or simply wishful thinking, being on the end of it all that we are, but it feels like an exciting time to be in the area and, though a lot of the businesses popping up might be a tad over-precious, we enjoy most of it, especially when it comes to lunch time.

Case in point, said high-end market, the Urban Radish, as they put it “a 21st century Mom and Pop community food store”. They’re local—as they say, they can see the market from their living room, and the market itself is pretty great, carrying some of our favorite harder-to-find vegan-friendly items like Mother in Law’s Kimchi out of NYC and even some vegan cheeses from Miyoko’s. Think a tiny Whole Foods or, for anyone from back east, Union Market.

The market also offers a kitchen and cold + hot bar, with a decent amount of vegan options like fresh salads, noodle dishes, and sandwiches. Best among them, the vegan shiitake mushroom banh mi, with sautéed shiitake mushrooms, a sriracha almond butter, cilantro, pickled carrot and radish, and english cucumber on a soft grilled baguette. Everything on the sandwich is great, but the spicy almond butter makes the sandwich, lending a beautifully creamy base to blend with the bread and provide a great contrast to the pickled tartness and savory umami tastes of the other elements of the sandwich.

Hanco’s will always have our hearts when it comes to bahn mi, but with that place 3000+ miles away, this is a great, likely healthier and very tasty alternative. Keep it up, Radish!

One of the many things I didn’t quite realize before moving west was that there are many, many craft breweries that don’t quite reach all the from coast-to-coast, or at least aren’t as prevalent in Los Angeles as they are in, say, New York. So, these days, I try to coordinate all east coast excursions with both a focused indulgence  in some of my favorite hard-to-finds—Avery, Founders, Captain Lawrence—and some exploration into new (to me) breweries. This past trip back to Virginia in December, I came across one local beer at Richmond’s reigning health food/veg-friendly champ, Ellwood Thompson’s—the Virginia Black Bear Russian Imperial Stout from Lickinghole Creek Brewery.

Now, admittedly, I mostly bought the beer because of the very cool illustrated label, but I’m also a fan of imperial stouts—dark, heavy, boozy beers that balance malty sweetness with an earthy bitterness. This one, it turns out, won the Virginia Craft Brewers Guild gold medal in the imperial stout category, and the win was well-deserved. Ten specialty grains comprise the backbone of the beer and high alpha American hops lend a slightly floral bitterness characteristic notes of dark chocolate and coffee. So this, yet again, is an instance of actually being able to judge a book by it’s cover: cool label; excellent beer. We’ve written to this effect many times before, but it just goes to show that, when you believe in a product, it’s worth it to follow through and show that in every aspect of that product. Did you go to all the trouble to make an awesome beer? Don’t phone it in and give it a shitty label, man.

Getting past just the great beer though, Lickinghole seems like a pretty fucking cool brewery that I totally want to check out next time I’m back. As they tell it:

“Lickinghole Creek Craft Brewery is a water-conscious, biologically friendly farm brewery carefully crafting unique and innovative beers. Set on a 290 acre farm in the heart of Virginia. LCCB grows hops, barley, herbs and spices for use in our Estate Series of beers. Lickinghole Creek is a water-conscious brewery. We brew with well water drawn from the deep. Our wastewater is purified on site and returned to the Lickinghole Creek watershed.”

And they give $1 for every barrel sold wholesale and $10 for every barrel sold for on-premise retail to hyper-local non-profits of the month in the realms of historical preservation, sustainable agricultural, cancer research, and the like. Brewery founder Sean-Thomas Humphrey let us know that all of Lickinghole Creek’s beer are vegan-friendly too, thus the bear’s peace sign, I guess.

A huge thanks to all the friends who came out this past Saturday to help celebrate my 40th, and an even huger thanks to Katie, who planned the whole shindig, held at Kombucha Dog, complete with DJ + dancing, food from Blue Window, liberal libations, and a beautifully vulgar peanut butter chocolate cake from Clara Cakes.

I’m officially wise! Or wizened. Either one.

With all of this rainy, cold weather in Los Angeles (finally!), our nighty menus are shifting accordingly. One of our favorite warming, homey  go-to cuisines for such chilly weather is Indian. Rather than relying on our usual favorite Indian cookbook though, we instead recently employed another favorite, Tender by British chef + author Nigel Slater. The cookbook is far from vegan, but, with its heavy reliance on vegetables—all stemming from Slater’s desire to cook from his home’s vegetable garden—its narrative format, and its beautiful photography, its one of our favorite cookbooks for years now, hands down.

One recipe Slater tackles is an Indian korma—a dish originating in South Asia consisting of meat or vegetables braised in a spiced sauce made with yogurt, cream, nut or seed paste. Besides swapping in a cashew cream for the dairy in the original recipe, we also altered the vegetables included in the mix to better fit what was available in late fall/early winter farmers’ markets, meaning in our case bringing in pumpkin to pinch hit for some of the other, less common roots.

We recommend cozying up with a nice book, a bottle of red, and embracing this thing we call El Niño. Here’s what you need:

• 2 medium yellow onions
• 1 piece of ginger (the size of a fat thumb)
• 3 cloves garlic
• a mixture of fresh pumpkin, carrots, parsnip, and sweet potato (2.5 lbs. in total)
• 2/3 cup cashews
• 6 green cardamom pods
• 2 tsp cumin seeds
• 1 tbsp coriander seeds
• 2 tbsp olive oil
• 2 tsp ground turmeric
• 1 tsp smoked paprika
• 1 cinnamon stick
• 2 small green chiles
• 1.5 cup cashew cream (see below)
• cilantro

So, first off, peel the onions and chop them into large pieces before blitzing them in a food processor or blender until coarsely minced (not blended into a purée). Peel and coarsely grate the ginger and peel and finely slice the garlic, set both aside. Depending on the pumpkin you get, you may or may not need to peel the skin from it. Common pumpkins at southern California farmers’ markets like kabocha and red kuri can be steamed with their skins on as they tend to be absorbed into the flesh, giving a more complex and fulfilling taste overall; others, like common pumpkins and acorn squashes are usually preferred skinned. So, figure out which you have and take the skin off or don’t (ask your farmer at the market too—they usually have great ideas on what can be used how). The main thing you want is a sweet pumpkin with dry flesh, ideally. Cut it and the rest of the unpeeled root vegetables into bite-size chunks—maybe 1″ or 2″ square, understanding that they’ll break down a bit as they’re all cooked; set aside. Now coarsely chop half of the cashews and set aside.

On to the spices—open the cardamom pods and scrape out the black seeds, then use a spice grinder or mortar + pestle to crush them. Likewise, grind the cumin and coriander seeds (individually if you’re using a manual grinder or mortar + pestle, so you can better control the particle sizes and get them all to a fine powder).

Heat the oil in a heavy-bottomed pan like a cast iron and add the onions, cooking over medium heat to soften and brown but not blacken at the edges; they’ll become very fragrant as they caramelize. Stir in the grated ginger and garlic, bringing the heat down to medium-low and cooking for five minutes or so, then add all of the spices—cardamom, cumin, coriander, turmeric, paprika, and the cinnamon stick whole. Continue to cook and stir, as it all becomes fragrant, and then add the vegetables and cashews after five or so minutes. Throw in the chiles, sliced very thinly and added as you see fit depending on the desired spice level.

Stir in 3 cups of water or vegetable broth and cover with a tight lid, letting the mixture simmer for 45 minutes to an hour, until the vegetables are all tender to the fork. Toast the remaining whole cashews in a dry pan, browning and then setting aside.

Now carefully add the cashew cream, which replaces the dairy cream and yogurt in the original recipe. Basically, all you need for the most basic of cashew creams is raw cashews and water. It’s best to submerge and soak the cashews overnight for the creamiest end result but, with a great blender, sometimes that’s not even necessary. Blend the cashews with a little water and, if you like, a little rice vinegar, nutritional yeast, salt, and/or a fresh garlic clove, all to taste, for a little more flavor and life in your cashew cream. Keep an eye on total liquid level, adding as you go rather than ending up with something that’s too runny in the end. You want to aim for a creamy, fairly thick cashew cream, more viscous than a sauce. We encourage experimenting with cashew creams if you’ve never made them before though, and they’re great to freeze if you have excess you’ll want to use later.

Cook the mixture with the cream for another ten minutes or so, stirring and testing the seasoning, adding salt or pepper as you see fit. Once you’re happy, plate, garnishing with the whole roasted cashews and chopped cilantro. Enjoy!

We severely fucked up on our recent trip to New York—with the craziness that generally is our work lives come fall-winter, we failed to make a reservation at Dirt Candy, the inventive Manhattan vegetarian restaurant that usually books up weeks in advance. I myself hadn’t had a chance to check out Dirt Candy’s new(ish) location and expanded menu, so I was especially bummed when we made the realization. Luckily, Katie happened to check availability while we were out one night and we were able to snag a two-top last minute. The result—one of our favorite dining experiences in a long, long time.

Being longtime fans of her smaller former iteration and (now) huge fans of the new one, we reached out to chef + owner of Dirt Candy, Amanda Cohen, to find out more about the move and the restaurant in general.

raven + crow: What brought on the move from your former space to your current location? Was it just a desire for a larger space overall or did you want to transform your diner’s experience somehow?

Amanda Cohen: Both! The original Dirt Candy only had 18 seats, and that meant a lot of restrictions. There was nowhere to wait if you showed up early for your reservation, there wasn’t a bar if you wanted something besides beer or wine, there wasn’t room in the kitchen to really cut loose and experiment with more complicated dishes, and there wasn’t storage space to offer a larger wine list or a bigger menu. The new space conquers all those problems.

Kudos on all of that, especially the wine bit—loved your offerings in that department. Do you know if your former landlord has a veg-friendly-leaning though? Superiority Burger’s in there now, right?

My former landlord is money-friendly-leaning. I arranged for Brooks and his guys to take over my old lease. Brooks is a friend, so I was happy to help him get his place up and running.

Well, I think we can all safely say the world thanks you for that. Totally love Brooks’ food and take on the scene in general. In the new space, the bar/counter stands out as very central in my mind—was that intentional?

Absolutely! Some restaurants hide the kitchen, as if they’re somehow ashamed of the work that goes into their food and the people who perform that work. They want to pretend magical elves are secretly preparing your dinner. I want the cooking and my cooks to be front and center of my restaurant. I want people to see Hector, and Alexis, and Nin, and Kyle, and Julia, and all the people whose hard work goes into making their dinner.

Nice. Yeah, I love that, especially in this age of more transparency and intimacy and familiarity with our food. It makes you feel like your more a part of it all, all Anthony Bourdain-esque. Back to the booze, when we were in, I ordered an amazing natural red wine that I curse myself for not taking note of…something in the description about an earthy forest floor; I absolutely loved it, but I was unaware of the world of natural wine before. Can you speak to what that is and how it differs from our common wines or organic wines?

That’s the Clos Fantine Faugeres, and you’re right—it’s pretty great! At the original Dirt Candy I didn’t have much room for wine, so there were only four whites and four reds on my list. As a result, I wanted to make sure they were funky, strange, exotic wines you couldn’t find in other restaurants, rather than just the same old Pinot Noirs and Chardonnays. My wine reps got the picture and one of them, Camille Reviere, started bringing me bottles of natural wine, which were a huge trend in Europe at the time but weren’t well-known here. Natural wines are made with nothing more than the grapes. That’s it. There are absolutely no additives—even organic certification allows some additives in the winemaking process. So what you get are these wines that are very volatile (the taste of the wine can differ from bottle to bottle), very delicate, and very fresh. They taste exactly like the ground where the grapes grow, and a lot of them have a funky edge to them which makes them taste a bit fermented and very alive. Having a natural Chardonnay was a revelation to me because I had previously always thought I hated Chardonnay when what I really hated was how most winemakers made it.

Wow. That’s awesome. And THANK YOU for the name of that red. I’ve gotta look for that one. Back to the space now, I have another, very important question—what the hell’s behind the double-danger doors across from the bathroom? Dragons? Uranium? Tiger pits?

Mountain Lions. Radioactive Mountain Lions. They keep out the Ultra-Mice at night.

FUCKING KNEW IT! For any poor soul who hasn’t experience the menu or dining gestalt of Dirt Candy, how would you describe what you hope to have achieved with the restaurant? Your dishes alone stand out in such a stunning, unique way from other vegetarian restaurants.

That’s really, really nice of you to say.

Shucks.

All I want is to cook vegetables and have fun and to surprise people. I want you to eat a dish at Dirt Candy and say, “I never thought about eggplant this way.” Or, “I didn’t know celery could be so good in a cocktail.” I like to take chances and experiment, and while not every dish is a home run every time, I hope people come along for the ride.

I know it’s tough to pick a favorite, but what dish has got you most excited on the current menu?

Right now it’s the large format dishes for two people. We didn’t have the room to do these at the original Dirt Candy but at the new place it is so…much…fun. I’ve got Brussels Sprout Tacos that come out on a sizzling stone, a Cabbage Hot Pot that comes with all kinds of accompaniments, the Corn Boil that arrives with a bib and a bucket of bourbon milkshakes. I watch tables order these dishes and they’re hesitant at first and then they start fooling around, and sharing stuff, and talking, and arguing, and getting messy and I think, “Yes! This is what dinner should be!”

Bucket of bourbon milkshakes? I think I severely mis-ordered on my last visit. I wonder if it’s tough at all when—it seems to me, at least—you get so much hype around your hush puppies with the maple butter, something that’s been a mainstay for a while now. Those things are truly crave-worthy, but are you ever like ‘Hey, man, I’ve put a TON of work into, like, a hundred other dishes too!’

On the one hand—yes. It’s heartbreaking to spend a lot of time and energy on a dish and really feel like you hit it out of the park, and then have diners reject it while sucking up mountains of hush puppies with maple butter. On the other hand, it makes me step up my game. The hush puppies taught me that you have to have variety on a menu. There have to be craveable dishes like the hush puppies, or the KFB, or the Carrot Sliders, then there need to be the calmer more complex dishes like the Eggplant or the Cauliflower. And there have to be earnest, straightforward dishes like the Shanhai Shoots or the Forager’s Salad. They’re not all going to appeal to the same people, but your menu has to have them all, and hopefully they’ll let people construct a really interesting meal with them.

Well-said. I’m told the pups are featured in the cookbook you did, which I, sadly, have yet to pick up. Was that fun to do? Hair-tear-out-y? Both?

Writing a cookbook is not for the weak-hearted. I’m proud of the work we all did on the cookbook, and I’m really happy with how it ended up, but it was a struggle. Writing a cookbook and doing all the recipe testing is hard enough, but then, after we sold it to our publisher we sat down for our first meeting with them and they said, “So does it have to be a comic book? Why don’t we do a cookbook with photos? Won’t that be fun?”

Oh my god, that must have been pretty crushing. What made you want to do a graphic novel-style cookbook in the first place though?

People had been asking me to do a cookbook and I’d been avoiding it because the world has plenty of really great cookbooks already. My house is full of them.

Agreed.

If I was going to add another to the pile, I wanted to make sure I was contributing something worthwhile and different, not just some more vegetable recipes. My husband and I were walking down the street arguing one day and he said, “You may as well do something stupid, like a comic book cookbook.” And we both stopped in our tracks and said, “That’s it.”

That’s awesome. To follow up on a question you say is answered in the cookbook—DOES Martha Stewart like Dirt Candy?

She seemed to, but I swear, that woman is inscrutable!

Your design sensibility extends beyond the cookbook though—we LOVED your menu’s infographics, they were well-done AND super-funny. Is all of that really true?

Absolutely. There were a few things I had to guesstimate, like how many customers fell out of the three-legged chairs at the original space, but otherwise it’s all as accurate as I can make it.

I’m assuming the customer babies weren’t deliver AT Dirt Candy, but did the 12 couples married get engaged there?

No, but a lot of them had their first dates there, so we’re a lucky charm. Then again, we’ve all witnessed several relationships break up at Dirt Candy, too, so maybe not. Hey guys, here’s a tip: if you want to dump your girlfriend, don’t take her out to a nice dinner to do it. I can assure you that it doesn’t turn out well.

Happy to see Step Up: All In got a shout-out too.

It’s a great movie. Not as great as Armageddon, but still pretty good.

So, this might dredge up bad blood, but I remember back when we still lived in New York and you opened your first restaurant, you got a lot of flack from some vegans for making the restaurant vegetarian instead of vegan. Was that tough to deal with at the time?

Actually, at both the original and the new Dirt Candy, every dish can be made vegan. I was a vegan for a while and I know how tough it is to navigate a lot of menus, so to me it was just common sense to have a vegan version of everything. Somehow that made some vegans angry. I’m still not sure what happened exactly, but it was a pain in the butt to exert extra effort to make vegans feel welcome and then get blasted in really vile ways by people claiming to represent the vegan community.

We were always so put off by that public reaction—it always seemed so detrimental to the movement and to popularizing more animal-friendly food. Do you feel like the vegan community has accepted your restaurant and food over time though?

You know, people are strange. I have so many vegan customers and regulars who I absolutely adore, but at the same time I still get the occassional phone call or email from someone telling me I’m participating in the holocaust because I use eggs, or someone who is angry that I don’t support the same causes they do. I want dinner to be fun, not a poltical campaign, and there are so many other great restaurants that advocate a lifestyle or political choice, but I’m not them. Also, as a Jew, telling me about the egg holocaust doesn’t elicit a lot of my sympathy.

I’m guessing that wouldnt, no. Do you have any plans for expanding beyond New York? I feel like you’d go over pretty awesomely in Los Angeles.

I’d love to! Do you know any investors???

Man…actually, maybe. I’ll get back to you on that. But any other exciting future plans you can talk about or are you happy enjoying things the way they are for now?

Right now, I’m so happy with the new restaurant that I’m focusing on just being there for the duration. I’m planning on spending 2016 getting things really locked down and I have some awesome events to unleash. Solo Diner’s Week will return, we’ve got a great event coming up in April, and starting in June I’m starting a series that’s going to kick butt and might be the most fun I’ve ever had in my restaurant. Details to be unveiled when the time is right and the moon rises in the seventh house and the stars are all aligned.

…That’s February, right?

If you’re in New York any time soon, seriously, plan a trip to Dirt Candy. It’s one of the most inventive restaurants on the scene right now and its new space is beyond inviting and gorgeous. Below, Dirt Candy’s façade; the Celery Cheese Cake Roll with Raisin Caramel, which can be done vegan and which we can vouch is fucking spectacular; the (not vegan) Rainbow Monkey Bread that’s served to every non-vegan table (dyed with vegetable juices; vegans get less exciting but still good bread); and our receipt, which points out that Dirt Candy pays its employees fair wages and eschews tips, which we think is pretty cool. All photos minus that last one and the Danger Doors courtesy of Dirt Candy.

Following up on the interview we did with musician, DJ, and (now) Los Angeles restauranteur Moby last month, after a visit for dinner soon after opening, we finally got a chance to check out his restaurant Little Pine‘s lunch. We have to say, the Silver Lake spot is quickly becoming one of our favorite for both classic comfort food and inventive takes on vegan scrumptiousness not found elsewhere.

On our most recent visit, the star was LP’s sausage + fennel sandwich (above)—housemade vegan sausage, fennel, pickled red onion, and romesco aioli on a really well-made French baguette. Everything was great though, just as it was at dinner (though definitely get the roasted tomato agnolotti if you make an evening visit—still craving that creamy, truffle-y dish).

Below, the classic grilled cheese (with arugula and housemade Soledad vegan american cheese [that’s the Southern California goat farm that recently announced they’d only be making and selling vegan cheese from here on out) on crispy slices of bread), + tomato soup with tomato oil; a close-up of the sausage + fennel; fried cauliflower with romesco aioli; and the Moby-recommended, us-approved s’mores ganache—graham crust, chocolate ganache, pecans, toasted meringue…that lasted about one minute on the table.

Next up—brunch!

Earlier this month, for the second year in a row, we enjoyed a holiday hybrid of Cookbook Club with friends (for anyone who missed it, we’d written up the idea behind and inspiration for Cookbook Club last year). This one featured grown-up takes on holiday-themed dishes from growing up and centered around Sinterkerst—a very fun Danish gift-giving game that’s kind of like White Elephant, but with more chaos, dice-rolling, fast-paced thievery, and cheap and/or pre-owned gifts.

One of the two dishes we brought to share was a vegan take on holiday party  meatballs—warm, smokey, savory appetizers good for snacking on and having with a variety of dips.

Given that it’s the heat of holiday season for many of us, we thought we’d go ahead and share the relatively simple recipe here.

What you need:
• 1 cup Dried Brown Lentils (AKA Swad Horse in Indian grocery stores)
• 1 cup (dry) Brown Rice
• 2 cups Raw Walnuts (halves, pieces, whole—doesn’t matter)
• 1 handful Fresh Rosemary (chopped)
• 1 tsp Liquid Smoke
• 1 tsp Ground Black Pepper
• 1 tsp Smoked Paprika
• 1 tbsp Ground Flax Seed
• 1 tsp Bragg’s Liquid Aminos or low sodium soy sauce
• 1 tbsp Sesame Oil

So, note that it’s best to do some of this prep work the night before you want to serve the balls simply because their form holds better when the ingredients are chilled or at least cool.

First, cook your brown rice stovetop according to package directions. One tip for brown rice or rice cooking in general if you’re looking for it—we like to bring rice + water to a  boil with the lid on at full heat and then, once steam starts escaping the lid, bring it all the way down as low as it’ll go without taking the lid off, trapping as much residual heat as you can. Once done, set aside or (as we usually do), just let it cool stovetop and then put the whole thing in the fridge overnight.

You’ll also ideally want to soak your dried lentils overnight or at least 8 or so hours. If that’s not possible, it’s not a huge deal, you just might get a grainier texture on ones that haven’t been soaked as much or at all. Regardless, again, you can likely follow package instructions on cooking or, if you don’t have any, you basically just bring to a boil in water (I usually fill a 2 quart pot about 3/4) and then turn the heat to medium watching that it doesn’t boil over, cook for anywhere from a half-hour to an hour, until the lentils fully soak up the liquid and are very tender to the fork—add more water as needed or, as an alternative, you can use vegetable stock for more flavor. Once done, set aside to cool or, ideally, store in the fridge overnight.

The walnuts are the only ones you don’t really have to do much with. I tend to soak them too for an hour or two in water, again, to get rid of some of the grittiness in the final product, but I don’t think it’s 100% necessary.

Preheat the oven to 350ºF.

Now, essentially, you need to blend each of those three ingredients—rice, lentils, walnuts—separately, one at a time. I made the mistake of first trying an early version of this recipe blending all three at once, and you just end up having far less control of the texture of the mixture as a whole. The lentils, you can blend until pretty smooth—hummus-like, but not overly liquidy; the walnuts, I like to keep a little chunky, for added texture; and you can also keep the rice from being totally broken down. The rice is our primary binder and, though the closer we get it to a gummy paste, the better it’ll bind, we also like having some of the grain left for optimal end texture.

In a large bowl, combine all of the three main, blended ingredients with everything else and stir well, combining everything as thoroughly as possible for a consistent mixture and taste. Set out a large baking sheet or baking stone and, one by one, use your hands and a spoon to form the mixture into small balls. You can make them whatever size you want, just keep in mind that the larger they are, the longer they’ll take to cook through and the more likely they’ll be to fall apart or pool in the oven rather than keep their ball form. Bake at 35o for an hour or so, keeping an eye on them and pulling them when the outsides get dark and crispy.

That’s it. This usually makes a healthy number of balls—as many as 60, depending on how large you make them—so you’ll likely be doing them in batches.

Dipping sauces—we like anything from a homemade ají to a peppery cashew creme to a simple tamarind-based sauce or store-bought HP (pictured).

Enjoy! And happy holidays!

One last New York piece before year’s end—if you happen to be in NYC this and next week, we highly recommend checking out this new breed of specialized seasonal commerce—the holiday pop-up bar.

While back east, we visited two: Miracle on Ninth Street, which has taken over Mace‘s space at East 9th + C; and Sippin’ Santa’s Surf Shack in Boilermaker at 1st + 1st (AKA, the nexus of the universe).

The former celebrates the more traditional aspects of Christmas, with decor, musical selections, and drinks like a pine needle cordial gimlet and the Christmopolitan—Fig leaf-infused vodka, St. Germain, lime juice, spiced cranberry sauce. They even give a shout out to the chosen with an appropriately decorated Hanukkah corner and the Dreidel, Dreidel, Dreidel—Chocolate gelt-infused reposado tequila, Pedro Ximenez sherry, maple syrup, and black walnut bitters garnished with, yes, a dreidel (note to fellow vegans: It’s actually cocoa nib-infused and dairy-free).

The latter, Sippin’ Santa’s Surf Shack, is, as you might guess, is more of a Christmas in Hawaii, Elvisian Christmas themed bar, with tiki trimmings, some great surf-holiday tunes, and the cheekier side of the drink menu with libations like I Saw Mommy… (vodka, grapefruit juice, Branca Menta, Hershey’s syrup, chocolate bitters, with mint [not vegan]) and warmers like the Sexy Santa (brandy, cabernet sauvignon, cinnamon, Angostura bitters, grapefruit essence; served hot).

Both pop-ups are run by the couple that runs Cocktail Kingdom (high five to couples running multiple businesses together), so, along with the music, decor, and drinks, you’ve also got some great, custom-designed barware, like you see below.

Our picks at each establishment: The Grinch at Miracle (a smokey concoction of rye, Pedro Ximenez sweet white wine, pine bitters, and frankincense smoke that was hands-down the favorite among our five-person table) and A Snowball’s Chance at the Surf Shack (scotch, pineapple cordial, allspice dram, and a dash of absinthe poured over a snowball of crushed ice).

You’ve only got a handful of days left to enjoy these places, so get thee there and get there early (they get packed quickly). Just watch out for a few of the drinks, vegans—the bogs are off limits, some come with actual hot butter, and there’s one drink at Miracle that’s got beef jerky bitters. Ah, boy.

Top photo of The Grinch, courtesy of Miracle at Ninth; all below, us.

If you’ve been vegan for as long as we have, you likely remember some pretty basic, early- to mid-ninties vegan staples that are now, happily, obsolete. Tofutti’s chalky dairy-free ice cream and plastic-y vegan American cheese slices? Anything in powder form from Fantastic Foods? And how about that boxed Ener-G Egg Replacer?

To be clear, I mean no offense whatsoever to these early vegan mainstays and these blazers of vegan trails—without them, we’d be nowhere. But the vegan and animal-friendly world is, awesomely, a much different place than it was twenty some years back. Back then, the demand for this kind of thing was so low; now, happily, it’s a fucking bandwagon entrepreneurs are elbows-out jumping on, and it’s making it not only easier than ever to go plant-based and animal-free, but also tastier than ever.

So, yes, there are a million better vegan ice creams (like Van Leeuwen, who we just interviewed) and vegan cheese slices on the market (like Chao + Follow Your Heart’s slices, which we also recently wrote up); yes, there are amazing falafel joints at ever turn in most ever urban center and, failing that, great store-bought humus from Sabra; and yes, there’s now finally a vegan egg alternative that you can actually use in things other than baking recipes.

Again, no disrespect to the early vegan path-finders, but Ener-G’s product—while great as an egg-replacer in baked goods and other recipes needing an egg-like binder—was never intended for use as an egg-substitute in things like omelets or scrambles. The new product from Southern California’s Follow Your Heart is.

First off, full disclaimer—neither Katie nor I were ever huge fans of eggs as food. It was just a taste, texture, and general concept that neither of us ever got behind. That said, we were excited to give Follow Your Heart’s Vegan Egg a try while in New York recently. Unlike us, our hosts—one of them at least—were indeed huge egg fans in their pre-vegan lives and couldn’t stop singing the praises of this new, magical, cruelty-free “egg” product. Made primary of algal flour and algal protein of all things, nay-sayers or non-vegans could easily call the Vegan Egg an empty shell protein and starch; for those that have given up the egg but still crave a good scramble, it could easily be a god-send. It takes some work in the form of constant stirring over heat, but, eventually, the Vegan Egg—which, while it’s savvy packaging hints at conventional egg containers, is actually a powder—whips into a convincingly scrambled egg-like texture, with the sulfurous black salt in the “egg” giving off a distinctly eggy scent. Again, we were never huge fans of the conventional touchstone here, but what we had, we loved—scrambled Vegan Egg on toasted focaccia with a slice of Chao and some sriracha for a perfectly decadent, post-Thanksgiving breakfast sandwich.

If you’ve long given up egg, or—better yet—are considering doing so and need that extra little push, give Follow Your Heart’s Vegan Egg a try. We’re guessing you’ll love it. In the Los Angeles area, you can get it at local super-shop, Organix; elsewhere, check FYH’s page for the nearest location to you (or order from Food Fight).

Below, Vegan Egg prep and the glorious breakfast sandwich.

Way back in the summer of 2013, we first noticed ice creamery and coffee chop Van Leeuwen‘s welcome vegan friendliness. They were on our regular route from our home in Carroll Gardens to our design studio in Cobble Hill and we saw a poster they’d put up about their new vegan flavors. We reached out to them then and there to find out more, writing up a brief piece on the journal at the time. Then, when we made the move to Los Angeles a little while later, we again stumbled across them, this time in pint form as they expanded to new and exciting flavors (again, a write-up). As their ice cream kingdom grows to include five shops and a fleet of trucks in NYC, two trucks in LA, and two-going-on-three brick-and-mortars in Los Angeles, we thought we’d reach out again, getting the scoop from co-founder and one of two namesakes, Pete Van Leeuwen, on the move west, their propensity for amazing vegan ice cream, and our eerily parallel moves.

Get it?

Scoop?

raven + crow: Okay, first off, how did you all get into the ice cream game in the first place? What’s the story behind the early days of Van Leeuwen?

Pete Van Leeuwen: Ben and I used to rent Good Humor ice cream trucks from a couple of Greek brothers named Teddy and Peter from Queens and sell novelties in the suburbs for a few summers . A few years later, Ben graduated from Skidmore with the idea of selling the best ice cream in NYC out of retrofitted ice cream trucks. I was already living in Greenpoint, Brooklyn working for a vodka company and playing in a couple bands. Laura had just arrived from Down Unduh, and her and Ben moved into my apartment. Within a year, we had bought and outfitted two old postal trucks, learned how to make and produce incredibly good ice cream, and hit the streets much to the delight of the “ever so hungry for the new” New Yorkers .

And where does that name come from? I mean, I know it’s you and your brother’s surname, but what’s the inspiration behind using that for the business name?

Originally we were calling ourselves Churn, but we were advised that IF we ever were successful with our brand, undoubtedly someone would sue us…. So , we decided to go with our very difficult-to-spell last name, against my wishes. In the end I’m of course thrilled that we went with it, as I can’t imagine it being anything but Van Leeuwen. You only have to plug the first 4 or 5 letters in and Google knows what you mean, so spelling didn’t turn out to be an issue.

Good point. Guessing Churn would not have fared so well in this internet age. So no affiliation with the nationwide distributor of aftermarket motorcycle parts and accessories since 1973, then?

None. Nor with the guitarist from Queens of the Stone Age or the father of microbiology Van Leeuwenhoek (though I can’t confirm this!)

I mean, food chemistry’s clearly in the blood…. Can you school us on the correct pronunciation? Sorry for the fixation—we’re branding people.

Van Loo-in.

That helps. I usually gave you all the usual treatment when I don’t know a pronunciation, where you kind of murmur the syllables you’re not sure about. The result was something along the lines of ‘Van Lu-uh’. So you started out with the trucks and then the shops in NYC, then you landed a truck in LA—oddly right when we moved into town (thank you)—and now you’ve got a shop in Culver City and one that just opened (pictured above) walking distance from our studio…AND one seemingly opening down in Franklin Village, walking distance from our house. So the clear question is: Are you guys stalking us?

Yes. We have all of our favorite customers micro-chipped. We track their movements for 2-3 years before plugging the information into an algorithm my cousin wrote, which then dictates our next location to open in. It’s very good, in that we can even zero in on precise neighborhoods, blocks and even program in filters like “southwestern facing storefronts only”.

I KNEW it!

The truth of it is, we actually started with 2 trucks in NY. Eventually we opened a store front, then a few more all the while growing the fleet of trucks up to 6 in total. I took 2 of those 6 trucks (the Eagle and the Rattlesnake, both native creatures to California), put them on a flatbed truck, and sent them here with the same strategy in mind for LA…. In terms of good taste in neighborhoods and such? Well I guess we’re just on a plane.

No, seriously though, you’re taking over LA—what’s the story behind the initial westward move?

We’d entertained the idea of coming to LA from the first winter in business, actually. 2014 (7th year in biz) was the first year we could make it happen. I was getting colder and colder with every passing winter and was psyched to spearhead the big leap.

I hear you, man. Without just dissing New York—which we all love dearly—what do you all like about Los Angeles?

The weather, the weather, the weather aaaaaaand the weather. No really, there’s a lot I like about it. The tacos, the sushi, the farmer’s markets, the ocean and mountains, Griffith Park, living in Beachwood canyon. The people out here all seem more relaxed (for better of for worse!). There’s even a better music scene than I’d anticipated, great venues and so many great outdoor events like the shows and films at Hollywood Forever Cemetery, etc. The proximity to the desert and loads of National Parks. Life is pretty good in LA if you can handle the traffic thing. I think the traffic is why so many dispensaries stay in business.

So true on so many fronts. And yeah, you’re right about the music scene—I was pleasantly shocked to find how vibrant it is here, and I feel like it’s just getting more so.

So, we used to walk by your Boerum Hill shop nearly every day on the way to our studio. I actually tell the story of the time Hope Davis had to calm down our then newly adopted dog outside of that shop so I could pick up coffee one day. Absolutely no question there, I just needed to meet my weekly quota of telling that story. Check!

That’s awesome! How’d she do it? Or was the pup just star struck into submission?

I mean, I was, Owen the Dog coulda’ cared less. Though Ms. Davis was great with him. If you’re reading this and ever looking for a backup career, we suggest dog whisperer.

So, how are things back in New York? Are you all looking to expand there as well? Or…what’s the next phase of ice cream world domination for you all?

We are just about to open up our ice cream factory in Greenpoint that we’ve been building out for almost an entire year! By mid 2016 we will have doubled our number of shops from 4 to 8 and so I think it wise to try and refine the entire operation and have it running as perfectly as possible before determining our next big move. That said though, you never know. Sometimes when an opportunity arises you have to take it. We weren’t planning on Franklin Village as being a possibility for us but one day there was a “for rent “ sign in the window and we KNEW we had to have that spot. An absolute home run location (and right down the street from my house, so hard to beat)!

Man, yeah, we’re neighbors! Beachwood’s the absolute best. Can’t wait for the Franklin location. Speaking of new though, you all did just do an ice cream “cook”book, right?

Oh yeah. Came out in June. We worked on it for almost 2 years. There’s 100 incredible and VERY accessible recipes, both classic and vegan in it, and we are all very proud of it. The incredibly talented and sweet Olga Massov helped us write it.

That’s awesome. Being longtime vegans, that was the thing that set you all apart for us, the really fucking good vegan flavors. And not just, like, chocolate and vanilla—ya’ll have a ton of really great, creative, addictive vegan flavors. First off, what made you all want to offer that?

Actually, we’d talked about it for a couple years before really going for it, but one day I remember talking to Ben in the East Village shop and having one of those “duh” moments where you realize you absolutely HAVE TO do something. I stressed how important I thought it was that we offered vegan options and pushed him to get the ball rolling with experimenting and R&D and so forth . Initially we came up with just a chocolate and vanilla that were primarily coconut based and where they were “good” they certainly weren’t great. Ben who is far and away the most talented ice cream maker among us, buckled down and went to town on experimentation, refining and refining until finally emerging with a cashew milk, organic coconut milk, organic cocoa butter, organic extra virgin coconut oil base that, when brought to life with our meticulously soured flavors, in my experience turned out to be without doubt, the best vegan ice cream in the world.

I mean, we’re not ones to fall for easy superlatives, but we 100% agree and have for a while now—you guys do vegan fucking well. What are your favorite current flavors?

Favorite classic flavor currently is the Chocolate. We use Michel Cluizel 99% infini noir dark chocolate in our ice cream and, with as many amazing specialty flavors as we are making right now (which are incredible!), at times, I come back to the basics. Though our chocolate is anything but basic, my chocolate addiction must be answered to…daily. My favorite vegan flavor is The Green Tea Matcha, which is exclusive to LA right now. It may also be the most photogenic flavor we’ve every made!

Um, agreed (see below). Literally just had it for the first time. It’s really good—rivals my prior favorite, the Salted Caramel. Any crazy-awesome new flavors (vegan or non-) on the ice cream horizon? …mmmm, ice cream horizon.

Oh most definitely . I can’t let you in on it, but I’ll give you a hint. It rhymes with “nerf” but is positively not “turf”.

I mean, happy to hear you’re not doing a steak flavor, but surf-flavored…might be gritty. Thanks, Pete!

If you’re in New York or Los Angeles, you’re probably standing next to or in front of a Van Leeuwen right now—look up. If not, you can check their site for shop locations and their trucks’ Twitter feeds. You can also get their pints—vegan and not—in a good number of stores in NYC + LA; check their locator online (Beachwooders, look for them in the freezer at the Oaks).

Above, a shot we just took of the new shop’s exterior, part of One Santa Fe, that giant condo building with bright red accents that’s started to open pretty great businesses on the ground level, Van Leeuwe and Cafe Gratitude among them. To the right, opening night at the new location (courtesy of Van Leeuwin). Below, the Arts District shop’s interior (courtesy of VL); the aforementioned vegan Matcha, which is indeed amazing (photo VL); really really good vegan chocolate chunk cookies at the Art District shop, made by Pete himself; a sign describing what you can do with those cookies; us, enjoying having done that with those cookies. By the by, if you haven’t done it before, I highly recommend ice cream lunch. The sugar coma that follows is quite calming.