Digital Vegetarian: The Pressure Cooker

For vegetarians, beans are a primary source of protein. I like to alternate more processed forms of beans like tofu and tempeh with back to basics black, pinto, and kidney beans ( which I harvested from the garden), making a pressure cooker an essential tool.

We first got into pressure cookers back on the "Old Farm" because it can take over 12 hours to cook soy beans in a regular pot, compared to only 1 hour in a pressure cooker.

After attending one of my recent Farm Experience Weekends, new friend Toni van Gils sent me an upgrade, one of the new digital pressure cookers, and it has made cooking a pot of beans so easy I cannot believe it.

Simply pour your cups of dry beans and the appropriated number cups of water together in the removable liner pot. I set the power level to high and program the timer to 35 to 45 minutes. The cooker preheats, comes up to pressure and then, unlike pressure cookers of old, cooks silently. A beep sounds when the beans are done and then the pot will automatically release the pressure while still keeping the beans hot and ready to serve.

Voluntary Peasants

Melvyn Stiriss went from New York City to San Francisco, became part of Monday Night Class and was a founding member of The Farm Community. "Voluntary Peasants," is his colorful story through that amazing time, presenting an up close and personal tale that you will find a fascinating and interesting read. The first parts of his trilogy (a work in progress) are available for Kindle through Amazon, and as E-books at the web site, www.voluntarypeasants.com

From Melvyn:
Voluntary Peasants, Part 1 sets the stage, cast, mindset and lifestyle agreements of The Farm in Tennessee—once a great American commune of 1,500 people dedicated to save the world with simple, collective living, humanitarian service, self-reliance, homegrown food, music and celebration.

In '67, I was a journalist, the young guy UPI sent to cover the Grateful Dead and anti-Vietnam War demonstrations in NY. I worked a stint as a Madison Avenue publicist. Like on the TV show, “Mad Men,” I promoted Lucky Strike cigarettes on a national media tour with the Lucky Strike auctioneer, “Speed” Riggs, who shouted, “Sold American!”—his signature on old radio and TV shows.

I dug flying and dining first class, but, one night, alone in my first class, hotel room, from out of the blue, I felt—I was a “Sold American!” Suddenly, I found myself in the throes of a gut-wrenching, spiritual/identity crisis and subsequent soul search and rescue mission—for my own soul.

I followed the energy to Woodstock and the San Francisco spiritual smörgåsbord of 1969, met far-out hippies, went over the edge.

Trip aboard an outrageous, 100-bus caravan—a 12,000-mile, peace journey, community-on-wheels, round-the-country, save-the-world, school bus caravan that snowballed like a psychedelic Pied Piper, picking up people along the way to land 300 wide-eyed, hippie pioneers in the boondocks of Tennessee—to farm, build a model village and lifestyle, and to make a difference in the world.

We landed in moonshine country, with the FBI, KKK and vigilantes all watching as idealistic city greenhorns attempt to farm and survive. The Farm owns land twice the size of New York’s Central Park.

Through the years, more than 4,000 people shared, learned skills and trades, went through changes, many fell in love, married, had babies, and worked green and humanitarian projects around the world.

At its peak in the 70s, The Farm had a dozen satellite farms, city centers and aid projects around the world. Working with a team of carpenters from The Farm and Guatemalan Mayans for over a year, I did volunteer, earthquake reconstruction, built schools, houses and a clinic for Mother Teresa.

During our pre-electric, pioneer days—living at The Farm was like living through the Great Depression, yet we loved it. From the experience, we learned to be resourceful, sharing, neighborly and grateful for what we have. This friendly, sharing, spirit—coupled with desire to help the world—was the heart, soul, and life blood of the community.

After living 13 years in a quasi-cloistered society, returning to civilization feels like being that character in the James Hilton novel and movie, Lost Horizon, as he attempts to describe life in Shangri-La—a fictional, telepathic paradise hidden in the Himalayas. Our Shangri-La was real—in the backwoods of Tennessee. Was it truly Shangri-La? At times, it really was. Thousands of people concur. We ran on a shoestring, and sometimes, farm life was tough, but every day on America's biggest commune was far-out adventure, education and fun.

Only $3 from Amazon on Kindle
PDF $4.99 at voluntarypeasants.com

Thank you for your time and attention!

Douglas@thefarmcommunity.com