Veggie fajitas spice up meal

I grew up eating plenty of meat, but after I graduated from college and moved out on my own, I realized that meat is expensive. I became a pseudo-vegetarian, eating ramen with vegetables in my tiny apartment and savoring meat when dining with my parents, i.e., when they were footing the bill. I did occasionally splash out and buy a package of hot dogs, which I’d ration out one at a time, slicing them into pots of boiling noodles with celery and carrots.

This was a far cry from my girlhood in Vancouver in the late 1970s and early ’80s, when red meat for dinner was as commonplace as water and going out for steak dinners was something that every middle-class family could afford. My comparatively frugal parents would get a year’s supply of beef in one fell swoop from a local rancher. We’d pick a cow from the field then have it butchered and packaged into individual cuts, everything from the tongue to the tail, and keep it in our huge chest freezer. It always had a name, like Patches or Pokey, a fact that made me slightly uncomfortable, but was pushed aside with thoughts of juicy hamburgers.

Many years later, when my husband-to-be asked me where I’d like to go for our first official date, I didn’t hesitate. After months of ramen, I knew what I wanted: dinner at Black Angus with rare steaks, loaded baked potatoes and a bottle of red wine. Filet mignon was my favorite meal and I never thought twice about what that meant for my arteries or the environment or the cow.

Our marriage has lasted, but our consumption of meat has diminished considerably as we’ve learned more about meat’s true cost, not just in terms of dollars but also damage to the planet. I haven’t ordered a whole steak in a restaurant in maybe 15 years. I still love steak, but now we’ll grill them at home once or twice a summer. (Much nicer, on balance, than the cavelike interior of Ye Olde Steakhouse.)

During these current inflationary times, as we’re scraping pennies together to pay for our daughter’s college tuition and buy gas for my husband’s expensive commute, it makes more sense than ever to enjoy tasty vegetarian meals. Roasted sweet potato fajitas are just the ticket. Simple to make and knock-your-socks-off yummy, they’re exactly what Patches, rest his bovine soul, would want you to eat.

“But nothing tastes as good as meat,” I can hear you muttering under your breath. I don’t disagree with you. I’m not saying that sweet potato fajitas are better than steak fajitas. I’m just saying they’re delicious, in the way that different things are delicious in different ways. I like both apples and oranges. I like steak and I like sweet potatoes. I like to lie on the couch until I get a cushion indent on my cheek and I also like to kayak around Lacamas Lake until my muscles ache. Variety is the spice of life and all that.

The other thing that’s nice is there’s not much cleanup except the roasting pans. Of course, the more fajita fixings you put on the table, like cheese and salsa and guacamole, the more dirty dishes you’ll have, but maybe you find, as I do, that scrubbing dishes is rather meditative. It’s even more meditative to watch other people do dishes while I sip an after-dinner cocktail.

Slice two large sweet potatoes into small wedges or fry-like shapes. They can be a little rustic, as I like to say, with peels on or off according to your preference. Toss them in 1 to 2 tablespoons of olive oil, 1 teaspoon cumin, 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon and salt to taste. Spread them on a baking sheet. Put them in a 375-degree oven for 15 minutes. While they’re roasting, slice three bell peppers into strips; I used red, orange and yellow because they’re pretty. You can also use poblano peppers or something mildly spicy like shishito peppers, banana peppers or piquillo peppers. Slice a large red onion into strips. Toss the peppers and onion in 2 tablespoons olive oil, 1 teaspoon cumin and salt to taste. If you like a little heat, add ¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper. Spread on a baking sheet and put them in the oven with the sweet potatoes for 30 minutes.

Serve the vegetables with corn tortillas and a selection of fixings, like feta or cotija cheese, radishes, cilantro, cherry tomatoes, guacamole, coleslaw and lime wedges. I’d have liked sweet corn, but my husband, though he is the corniest person alive, dislikes the little yellow kernels. He likes corn tortillas, though, and never met a corn chip he didn’t like. He is a man of mystery.

After dinner, assign someone else to do the dishes and go lie down on the couch until you have a nice, deep cushion indentation on your cheek. Isn’t vegetarianism splendid?