Vegan Buffalo Chicken Melts (I've put my hormones on "notice". . . and pass me more hot sauce, please!)

If anyone ever tells you menopause is "easy", turn around and smack them. I am on the door step of fifty. The. Door. Step. I am not ever going to state exactly when this milestone hits. That little blog section of mine entitled Almost Fifty will quietly be switched to something like On Death's Door. It will be quiet and uneventful. You might notice it one day and be shocked to see such a dramatic "label" within my search box. But it will appear and the day will have passed and all will roll on as it has: Sporadic postings of food and life ramblings. The usual. But with a tad more urgency perhaps. 

The whole idea for the Vegan Buffalo Chicken thing came about because I was a ravenous, menopausal mess. I wanted really BAD food, but in a good, vegan way. (We all know being vegan is not a panacea for all of life's ills, but just knowing we're at least trying by sticking to the whole "only plants" theme does ease the mind a bit, especially when you're talking about one of my past life loves: buffalo spice anything!) 

I'll walk you through this play-by-play. Then I'll tell you about my week. Or I'll tell myself.  

I had to do some freezer cleaning--came across three of my favorite rye burger buns. First, preheat the oven to 425. Next, line a cookie sheet with parchment paper, then place said buns, cut in half, face up like so.

Spread a gob of vegan mayo on first. I browned up a couple Gardein chicken patties, then cut them into small pieces and put a layer of those on next.

Then came the good stuff--the Buffalo sauce mixture. This is super easy--in a medium saute pan, add 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil over medium heat and combine:

1 chopped onion

1 chopped green pepper

1 stalk celery

*Cook these for a few minutes to soften them up. Then add the following:

2 tablespoons Earth Balance Butter

2 teaspoons dried oregano

1 teaspoon paprika

1 tablespoon garlic powder

1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper

2 tablespoons Franks Hot Sauce

*Cook for few minutes to allow the flavors to meld, then in a small bowl, whisk together the following:

3 tablespoons unbleached all purpose flour

1 cup veggie broth

Add this to the pan. Turn heat up a bit until the mixture begins to bubble a bit and thicken. Then turn down the heat, add another cup-to-2 cups of veggie broth--depending upon how thick you want your sauce. You're not done adding hot sauce, but keep tasting the mixture to test the heat level. I have found that adding a splash of red wine vinegar to this also takes up the flavor a notch. Once you have the desired consistency you want--I wanted medium--not a paste, but not a runny gravy either, spoon this over the prepared buns. 

Top with Daiya vegan mozz. cheese. THEN, add a dash more of hot sauce to each patty. Bake for 20-25 minutes. 

Serve like this! Yum!

Okay, now for the week's happenings. I've been a bit sleep deprived. So much so, I'd decided I might be suffering some of those symptoms--the ones marking a woman's CHANGE! And the onset of "other" symptoms have confirmed my suspicions. It's like a little bell has gone off in me. A place on the time continuum marking You Were Here and Now You Are There. It was not unexpected. I imagine it's what Heathcliff felt about Cathy. 

 I made an appointment to see my Ob-Gyn. When I phoned, they'd said it had been two years! since my last appointment. (I am not one who enjoys visits with people in white coats.) Overall, I am quite healthy. Why take up their time? The receptionist said the earliest annual appointment (that's what they call the lady doctor visits--"annuals") they had was for end of February. I was like, Okay. Then I mentioned this: Oh, would you mind making a note to discuss my NOT sleeping. It's been nearly a month since I've had a full night's sleep. Just sayin'. To which the reply went exactly like this: We have an appointment available tomorrow at 1:30. . . for "problem" cases. Well, I guess to the medical world, a woman not sleeping is going to set off alarms buzzing. After all, we DO run the world. I was a little taken aback. So soon? Suddenly I can be seen tomorrow? vs. February. 

So the visit. For the record, I would rather have my eyelashes removed one at a time with tweezers than to go through this. But because my visit was of the "problem" sort, the tweezers were not required and it was more of a chat and minimal look-see sort of thing. I was cool with that. 

Then the HRT conversation began: Hormone Replacement Therapy. Now, to be honest, I am quite familiar with the HRT debate. I have polled women in my life and close friends about the subject of "To use or not to use HRT". Which all of my Almost Fifty girlfriends have admitted, we are THERE. IT is HERE. That is: menopause has reared its ugly head. 

Every single one of us has had to confront this change with eyes wide open, pencils to paper and ears to the news--investigating, questioning, reading. The hormone debate has lingered in the news for the last twenty years. It's a confusing, hot mess. Sort of like our hormones. Which makes the decision as to what we do next that much more complex. My doctor, a woman who will be sixty this year--smiling and jovial and perky mentioned the HRT options. I asked whether she took them? To which she replied, No. I said I was skeptical. She nodded. I shared my concerns. I brought a notebook with lists of questions AND my concerns, not least of which was the risk for breast cancer, hair LOSS (as if turning fifty weren't bad enough!), depression and last but not least--my numero uno enemy: wight gain--oh the horror! But could really, really use some sleep. (Just ask my husband.) 

She answered a few of my questions, we discussed a bit more, then she handed me a script--just in case this might work. It was worth a try, she said. (But in the back of my mind I kept thinking about her NOT taking anything herself--and here she was sixty!). On my way I was sent. Pill order in hand. Doubt in mind.

 I know her job requires seeing plenty of women of a 'certain age' and I imagine we all begin to sound like a broken record. But here's the thing--we are all different. She said so herself. No one case of menopause will be identical to another. You'll have some women who will fight the battle through with barely a sweat. Others not so much. I don't really know where I fit. I am leery of a one-size-fits-all for anything. I am by nature a doubter. Pills were suggested. I read the fine print, shocked myself nearly into a fit and thought they might as well have said, for the sake of ink and paper conservation written in bold, black type:

You could damn well possibly kill yourself on these! . . . Or not. 

Any decision regarding my health is not to be taken lightly. And nothing about changes in life are. Just ask Oprah or Suzanne Somers--both have touted bioidentical hormone methods to quell their menopause "symptoms"--books and interviews with these two clearly outline the battle being fought to overcome their own transition. Again, more news/prescriptions on hormones and their use, more confusion for women.

 I have since deployed several new regimens. I am happy to report that I have had not only one, but two full nights of sleep. (*I am well aware this could have something to do with my complete sleep deprived state--but for now, let's just state I am feeling a bit better.) And who knows, maybe just talking to my doctor has contributed to this overall awareness of the state I am in.

I told Dr. Thyme that evening after my visit my thoughts on the matter. I said, You know what I think, I think the pills are designed to make ME more tolerable to the rest of the world. . . he nodded in kind agreement. He's been that way lately, SUPER kind and compassionate.  

Meantime, after I got home from the doctor visit, someone thought it might be fun to ROLL in the thawed ground and give herself a makeover!

Hello!

Moments like these make it all worthwhile (even if it did take half the rest of the night to dry and brush the dirt from her entire body!)