Tiny Chef, Big Feelings

I was standing in line to take a selfie with The Tiny Chef.

I realize this sentence needs some explanation.

Who is The Tiny Chef?

Cheffy is a green puppet who comes alive through traditional stop-motion animation. He is 6.5 inches tall, 8 with his hat on. His size is important: the message is that smallness is not a limitation but a source of ingenuity and delight. (I appreciate this because I also am small, for a human.)

An adorable and indeterminate creature, he speaks an invented language that is expressive, emotional and musical, kind of like a toddler. You don’t always know what he is saying, but you know what he means.

And, oh yeah, he’s vegan and he teaches vegan cooking to kids (and adults).

Why was I standing in a long line of adoring fans in a dusty old corral in Pioneertown?

Cheffy fell in love with our famous Old West outpost in the high desert above Palm Springs, and he ran a successful campaign to become this year’s honorary mayor. He and his team had a meet and greet at the inauguration celebration on Sunday and, fan that I am – and former constituent, having once lived on Mane Street – I was there to express my devotion.

OK. So I’m looking at the kid behind me – clean cut, 20-something, solo – and he strikes me as an unlikely devotee. I consider my own visage – desert scraggly, 50-something woman, solo – and realize maybe that’s the point. Chef has wide appeal (and I should stop judging people by their appearance!).

I strike up a conversation:

“What do you like about him?”

“I like how he brings compassion, like with Mish Penny [a real-life cat friend who died]. How he shows empathy. Not sympathy, empathy. You know there's a difference?”

I like where this young man is going. He came all the way to Pioneertown from Phoenix to meet him. He told me he’s even gone to IKEA to try Cheffie's falafel balls. (Earlier this year, Chef partnered with IKEA as an ambassador for their Cooking and Eating Initiative, a campaign about “round foods,” from Swedish meatballs to plant balls. Full disclosure: I’ve never stepped foot in an IKEA.)

Back to the story and the waiting line.

“How was the falafel?” I asked.

“It was a Friday, and I don't eat meat on Fridays, so it was good. A little garlicky maybe.”

Words tumbling out before I could catch them, refine them, control myself:

"With Cheffy being vegan, do you think you might try it?”

"No. I like my nutrition complete.”

I guess I must have frowned and he smiled and said quickly, “We can agree to disagree.”

And then my words were gone, even though there was so very much to say.

I felt that familiar weight in my stomach. I felt that insurmountable hill, the sensation of trudging through molasses.

In a casual conversation with a stranger, with little context and no relationship, examining such a complexity of deep feelings and beliefs, identity, really – how do I summon the energy it would take to appeal my case? How to unpack it all for him. Where's the in? The impatient, exasperated girl inside of me wants to call him on his love of compassion and empathy – is it just reserved for Fridays? Should I give him a crash course in whole food plant-based nutrition with citations from T. Colin Campbell, et al, and tell him how easy it is? The line was long, but the conversation is longer and wider.

How often does this happen, that we find ourselves in the possible position to change hearts and minds in the effort to end animal suffering, promote human wellness and heal the planet by taking animals out of the equation and changing the food system for good?

Is it our job to win hearts and minds uninvited? Farmed animals would say yes. Yes, it's your job, and you can and must do better at communicating the facts and the urgency.

Which is exactly why I just enrolled myself in the Center for Effective Vegan Advocacy’s free online course, “Effective Vegan Advocacy.” According to CEVA, which was founded by Dr. Melanie Joy (author of “Why We Love Dogs, Eat Pigs and Wear Cows) and Tobias Leenaert, the vegan movement is only as effective as its proponents. The center offers webinars and in-person classes as well, and their website has multiple resources, including a section on vegan communication hacks.

I could have used those tools for IKEA boy.

But vegan advocacy, like cooking tiny food in a tree stump or a wine barrel on Mane Street, is an ongoing practice. I’ll keep learning, keep softening and keep showing up with as much compassion as I can.

Just like Cheffy.

The Tiny Chef origin story https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O_eStlN2wkU

The Tiny Chef Show on Facebook

www.veganadvocacy.org