Hey Y'all

       Confession time: I love pork.  Specifically, barbecue. Oh, sweet baby Jesus, do I love barbecue. I mean, I'm from Memphis, home of Central BBQ, Three Little Pigs, and of course Charles Vegos' Rendezvous for cryin' out loud. When I dream, it is of smoke assaulting my vision, stickiness covering my fingers and dripping from my chin, and that sweet, tender meat melting in my mouth. Ecstasy. I used to carry wet wipes on my person at all times for such occasions.
      Confession number two: I am a masochist. Perhaps that is why I transitioned into veganism around a year ago. Adios, fish tacos. Arrivederci, buttery Italian leather boots. Au revoir, to God's gift to this blessed earth, macaroni and cheese. Or so I thought. Apparently, I am a maven in the kitchen. I guess that's what you get when your mother's idea of home cookin' is the nearest Chinese take away menu (sorry, Mama). When I realized I didn't have to eat self-described "rabbit food" all day it really lit a fire under my ass. Soon, I even found myself immersed in a world of cruelty free makeup and Matt & Nat handbags. And, you know what? I don't miss the pig. Really, I don't! I have never felt lighter, more energized, and bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in my life.
       So, here we are. After encouragement from friends and family, I have succumbed to the blogosphere. I'm here to show you that you can still be a Southern soul-food lover while eating and living vegan. Richly, luxuriously, sinfully vegan.

Always, Peggy