Vegan Practically

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving in the US. It’s an occasion where millions of people give no thought whatsoever to their tradition of eating a dead, stuffed bird.

46 million turkeys die to become the focal point of festive tables across the country. That volume of production means factory farming, which accounts for 99.8% of all turkey products consumed in the US. Factory farming means short and miserable lives of suffering and terrifying deaths.

It’s astonishing how cavalier and casual we are about the lives we take so we can enjoy a meal. To challenge the tradition is to invite criticism for being extreme and ruining people’s fun. But few people know where their food has been before it became food, when it was a living, feeling bird, from hatching barn to brooding barn to finishing barn in 19 weeks, when they are then transported for slaughter.

Here’s a description of the welfare concerns of the finishing barn stage:

“Finishing barns pose threats to turkey welfare, especially when improperly managed. With a crowded stocking density, turkeys don’t have enough space to move or exercise, which increases their susceptibility to lameness. Cramped conditions also increase the risk of injurious pecking and heat stress among the birds. Ample space and proper cooling are essential for the well-being of these animals. The rapid rate at which turkeys grow also presents unique challenges to their health. Growing turkeys face a high risk of leg disorders, leg weakness, joint problems, bone fractures, as well as heart problems, and even death. If they can’t move, turkeys will not be able to access food and water. This disability will also increase the amount of time they are in contact with litter, which can cause pad burn, hock burn, and breast blisters if the litter is not well managed. The lighting systems in these typically windowless barns can increase mortality rates and encourage aggression if they don’t provide adequate time for activity and rest. The barren environment of finishing houses increases boredom and frustration amongst turkeys, who crave the ability to perch, forage, and dust bathe. The inability to express their natural behavior increases the likelihood of injurious pecking or even cannibalism. Lastly, it’s not uncommon for ammonia and respirable dust concentrations to be higher than suggested contamination thresholds due to improper ventilation, which increases the risk of respiratory illness.” (from “Birth, Life, and Death of a Factory Farmed Turkey” by Gracie Darlington of the New Roots Institute)

It doesn’t have to be that way. Back in October, for Canadian Thanksgiving, I posted my festive vegan menu.

Nora has been highlighting Thanksgiving appropriate dishes of late, including:

• orange cranberry sauce
• vegan “turkey” roast
• easy vegan gravy
• dinner rolls
• stuffing-regular or cornbread
• stuffed butternut squash
• broccoli casserole
• vegan cranberry pecan cheese ball (with only four ingredients!) and pumpkin hummus if you’re looking for appetizers
• pumpkin overnight oats for breakfast
• pumpkin pie for dessert. A reader describes it as “the perfect classic pie recipe”

If you don’t see enough that will satisfy on Nora Cooks, then Vegan Food and Living offers 36 more vegan roasts, from wellingtons to stuffed loafs to seitan roasts and vegan hams.

In other words, everyone has options. And the options retain the harvest-y flavours and sense of indulgence we have come to associate with the occasion. But they don’t require that anyone indulge in a dead bird.

It’s probably too late for this year. But I offer this post as something to think about for the rest of the festive season, and to file away for next year (when I will re-blog in time for some menu planning).

We can celebrate and give thanks together without requiring anyone to make the ultimate sacrifice.