When you’re out running around on a crazy busy day and you find yourself suddenly famished and needing to eat right now, there just aren’t many good options, especially if you’re trying to avoid meat and processed foods.

Like many people, Subway has turned into my go-to in such situations, and I’m exactly the kind of customer they’re trying to attract by marketing themselves as a fresh and healthy fast-food alternative. (I usually get a foot-long Veggie Delight with everything but jalapenos — extra black olives, please!)

But the largest restaurant chain in the world and America’s top fast food chain eight years running has a dirty little secret – actually several of them, it turns out.

I ran across an article last week announcing that Subway is responding to public pressure and removing a chemical called azodicarbonamide from all of its breads because of a customer-driven protest.

According to the Center for Science in the Public Interest, commercial bakers add azodicarbonamide to bread as a dough conditioner to make it have a nice, chewy texture. The plastic-based industrial chemical is also widely used in things like yoga mats and shoe soles to give them more elasticity. Seriously.

That sounds wrong just on general principle, but it is actually much worse than that: when ingested, azodicarbonamide breaks down into other substances, such as urethane, a known carcinogen, and semicarbazide, which causes lung and blood vessel cancers in mice.

Besides widespread use in bread and buns in fast-food chains, grocery store breads and restaurant breads also contain this nasty stuff, which aside from being carcinogenic has been linked to respiratory issues, allergies and asthma by the World Health Organization.

How does that nice, soft bread taste now, huh?

One of the biggest clues that this chemical should not be in the American food supply is that azodicarbonamide is banned as a food additive in the U.K, European Union, Australia, and Singapore, where you can get 15 years in prison and a $450,000 fine for using it in food.

Subway doesn’t put azodicarbonamide in its bread sold in those countries, so why should it do so here? Indeed, why should anybody? And why does the FDA even allow it?

This issue all came to a head for Subway earlier this month when food blogger Vani Hari, over at FoodBabe.com, launched a petition urging Subway to stop using azodicarbonamide. Nearly 90,000 people have now signed it, and Subway immediately sat up and took notice.

As well it should: Hari was the driving force behind the recent removal of artificial yellow dyes in at least three Kraft Mac and Cheese products and for Chick-fil-A removing controversial chemical ingredients from its menu, so she is a well-watched touchstone of consumer food activism with a formidable following.

Hari’s petition pressured Subway to make the change on azodicarbonamide, and I really hope she targets the FDA next on this issue. But the bad bread is only part of what she learned about Subway’s ingredients after researching the chain’s food supply since 2012.

She also found chemical additives, nitrates, GMOs, and refined sugars and flours in Subway’s products. And not only are all the veggies commercially grown and non-organic, she discovered that preservatives and artificial colors are added to some of them, such as banana peppers and pickles. Some of the salad dressings contain artificial colors, preservatives, and chemical additives as well.

Not even my extra black olives are safe.

“The ingredients for the black olives unveiled a new additive I learned about,” she wrote on her blog. “Ferrous gluconate, which is an iron-based preservative that helps keep olives black.”

And this, we are all assured, is how to Eat Fresh.

“What really upset me was it was something I always ate while on the road that I thought was healthy — their nine-grain bread and veggie sub and all the marketing about low calories and weight loss,” Hari told ABC News in early February.

“And they have an American Heart Association logo and stamp on their sandwiches,” she said. “I really had the illusion of healthy eating. When I saw what was actually in the bread, I was horrified.”

As we all should be, for oh so many reasons. But even with all of this news, Subway is still by far the healthiest choice of all the fast-food pressed on the American public. Now that, is truly horrifying.

I’m not much of a picky eater. When it comes to food, I’m a pretty reliable opportunist, and there’s not much that I won’t eat. That said, we all do have our preferences. I can count the foods I dislike on one hand, and there are only two things that I absolutely won’t touch: blue veined cheeses of any sort, and tiny little oily fishes, such as anchovies or sardines.

Both of those dislikes can be attributed to the foods having very strong odors and flavors, and as far as vegetables go, I generally stay away from Brussels sprouts, eggplant, and okra – the first because of its flavor, the others because of their texture.

I know that everybody’s palates change over time, though, as we encounter new foods and flavors, so I always try to give foods I don’t care for a second (or 32nd) chance when they cross my path. Whenever there are Brussels sprouts, eggplant or okra around, I dutifully try them, even if I don’t have a whole serving myself.

That’s how I discovered that my dislikes are highly dependent on the context. For example, okra in soup is disgusting on general principle, but it turns out that fried okra battered in cornmeal is phenomenal. Brussels sprouts are too strong for me by themselves, but dress them up with garlic and butter in a casserole and they are rather more than tolerable.

I consider myself something of a foodie, so eggplant is an especially unfortunate thing to dislike, especially when trying to eat vegetarian. Ever notice that when you try to avoid something, it suddenly seems like it’s everywhere?

But what’s not to like about eggplant? They are sleek and shiny and beautiful and maybe even kind of sexy, but there’s just something about the spongy texture (or the slimy texture, depending on how it’s cooked) that I can’t abide.

Friends have tried to woo me with barbecued eggplant, eggplant lasagna, eggplant parmesan, and homemade baba ganoush, all to no avail. Bites of “amazing” eggplant this or that have been forced upon me in restaurants both Asian and Italian. In my own kitchen, I have tried pressing it, salting it, and soaking it, but — well, it’s still eggplant.

I want to like eggplant though, I truly do. It’s such a popular and versatile recipe ingredient and it’s also really good for you (very high in antioxidants, fiber and B vitamins). So when an eggplant arrived in my Golden Gate Organics box recently, I didn’t sub it out and instead I tried to find a way to enjoy it.

Since I had a few potatoes that were starting to sprout, and I needed to use them up, I went online and looked for recipes that included both potatoes and eggplant. There were dozens to choose from, and I settled on one for garlic mashed potatoes with eggplant from allrecipes.com.

It was a pretty basic dish, mashing together boiled potatoes and oven-roasted eggplant and garlic and then topping the mash with sautéed onions. It was fantastic, and I would definitely make it again. I might even go out of my way and deliberately buy an eggplant to do it.

I’m pretty sure that my eggplant mashed potatoes are the gateway drug for me to learn to enjoy this beautiful vegetable in its many other incarnations. Blue vein cheeses and tiny little oily fishes, though, are another matter entirely. There is simply not enough context in the world for that.

As much as turkeys are a Thanksgiving tradition, so too are refrigerators packed tight with holiday leftovers.  After three days of grazing on cold turkey, stuffing and sweet potatoes, though, the prospect of eating yet another plate of Thanksgiving just doesn’t seem to have the same appeal as it did just a few days before.

At my house, that turn of mood means it’s time to stop picking at the bird and instead make Thanksgiving Soup.  I know lots of people have a tradition of making soup from their Thanksgiving turkeys, but I’m willing to be you’ve never done it like this.

You see, there is no recipe, no spicing, no chopping, no measuring. This is the most serendipitous soup I know, and for all its lack of culinary exactness, it is always quite tasty and deeply satisfying.

The first step is pretty standard: making stock from the turkey. Pull all the meat you can off your bird and set it aside, and then put the carcass in a pot of water and simmer the heck out it.  After you remove the bones and whatever fat has floated to the surface, go ahead and add all of your Thanksgiving leftovers to the pot.  Yes, that’s right: all of them!

Put in all the leftover turkey, the leftover stuffing, the leftover mashed potatoes.  The candied yams? You bet! Green bean casserole? Brussels sprouts?  Peas and carrots? Yes, yes and yes.  Gravy? All of it! Cranberries? Absolutely!  Don’t forget to throw in a piece of that nut bread or pumpkin pie, crust and all.

Really?

Yes, really. Whatever dishes complimented each other at your Thanksgiving table will compliment each other all over again in this wonderful soup. The flavor is like an entire Thanksgiving meal in every bite.

The seasonings in the separate dishes will be all the spice you need, aside from salt (though you could always add some garlic, thyme or nutmeg if you find it lacking). The stuffing and potatoes should bulk up the pot, but if you need a little extra substance, just add some carrots, barley, beans, mushrooms or even some diced bread. A little cornstarch rue will thicken the broth if need be.

I suppose I first got the idea for Thanksgiving Soup by remembering the meals made by an old boyfriend of mine, some 25 years ago. Scott and his best friend Mark were living on their own for the first time, and being young guys, neither was much of a cook.

They primarily subsisted on a concoction they proudly called “Stuff,” which was basically a big pot of cooked pasta, plus whatever canned and jarred items they happened to have in the cupboard.

Everything you can think of went into a pot of Stuff — cans of chili, Spaghetti-Os, soups, refried beans, random sauces and salsas, frozen vegetables, Tater Tots, lunch meat, hot dogs, whatever.  Somehow it always tasted great (at least to us hungry college students) and it was definitely never the same Stuff twice.

Since folks’ recipes for Thanksgiving dishes are so different, every pot of Thanksgiving Soup will be different, too. No matter how it comes out, though, one thing you can be sure of is that Thanksgiving Soup is good Stuff — the holiday meal that keeps on giving.

Of all the holidays, Thanksgiving can be particularly awkward for vegetarians, seeing as the whole production traditionally revolves around the preparation, presentation and praising of perfectly plated poultry.

Passing up the turkey – so lovingly basted by one beloved relative or other– is akin to betrayal in some families. But even in one’s own kitchen, forgoing a bird can mean grasping for a main dish that “tastes like Thanksgiving.”

This of course is the very dilemma that spawned so many unfortunate Tofurkey recipes over the years.  Because when it comes down to it, sides are still sides. Turkey or no, there needs to be a centerpiece worth celebrating and being thankful for.

When I was a kid, my grandparents were strict vegetarians. Actually, it’s a lot more accurate to say that my grandfather was a strict vegetarian and he forbade my grandmother to eat meat. Which she did not; at least in his presence.

Alas, my gram was a somewhat reluctant veggie and was rather prone to sneaking a nibble of ham or a tuna sandwich on the sly when she had the opportunity.  One of her biggest frustrations, though, was with Thanksgiving, which simply did not taste like Thanksgiving to her without a big, juicy stuffed turkey.

My grandfather would not hear of it, though (he stopped eating meat entirely in 1943), so my gram devised a recipe that would deliver the flavor she craved without delivering the actual bird. Through trial and error she adapted her own mother’s stuffing recipe to become a casserole – and our family’s signature Thanksgiving dish.

Now that my grandparents are gone and the Thanksgiving meal has shifted to my brother-in-law’s clan, I don’t get to taste that old family favorite very often, but it is something I absolutely crave.  I get to make a meal at home this year, so I went looking for the ingredient list in my recipe box today.

And there, on four yellowing index cards stapled together at the top left corner, is my grandma’s familiar handwriting:

Gram’s Dressing Casserole

Wash all vegetables before chopping

1 Loaf Bread – whole grain

1 cup Water (approx)

2 or 3 Large Onions, chopped

2 or 3 cups Celery, chopped

1 Bunch Parsley, chopped and stems removed (2 or 3 cups)

1 tsp Pepper

2 or 3 Tbsp Poultry Seasoning

No salt. Broth is salty.

½ lb Butter (more if needed)

4 Tbsp Braggs Liquid Aminos

1 cup Hot Water

Put bread in large bowl and pour water over it. Squeeze and crumble bread.  Add next five ingredients. Fry (one-half at a time) in butter in large skillet until vegetables are almost soft and bread is slightly browned. Stir frequently so mixture doesn’t burn. Add more butter if necessary. Put mixture in large casserole – cover and store in refrigerator overnight or until ready to use. Make a broth with the Amino and hot water and pour over mixture and bake in moderate oven until bubbling hot. Serve with cranberry sauce. May be made the day before serving but do not add broth and bake until just before serving. No salt needed. The Amino is salty. Variations – add mushrooms, nuts or raisins.

My family never really made the variations, as far as I can remember, but I have added mushrooms to the recipe in the past and it is terrific.  My grandma’s advice to fry the mixture “one-half at a time” is pretty wildly off, though. I simultaneously use one big cast iron skillet and a wok and still end up doing multiple batches (don’t worry, it shrinks down!) Also, I recommend going with the lower end of the scale for poultry seasoning, especially the first time you make it — the flavor can dominate if you use too much.  You can find the Bragg’s Liquid Aminos at any health food store or Whole Foods market. Don’t skip it; it is essential to the recipe.

This special Thanksgiving casserole is truly a wonderful family tradition that can be the centerpiece of any meal, vegetarian or not.  May you and yours find much to be thankful for.

One of the great things about writing this blog for Golden Gate Organics is that it is an excellent excuse to learn more about food-related issues, so when I saw an announcement for a lecture titled “Food to Feed the World,” I thought it might be interesting and I signed up to attend.

Sponsored by the Commonwealth Club’s INFORUM division, the presentation was moderated by Earth Island Journal editor Jason Mark. The panelists were Nick Saul, author of The Stop and CEO of Community Food Centres Canada, an innovative community food development program; Raj Patel, author of Stuffed and Starved, a book that digs into the economics and politics of the global industrial food system; and Nikki Henderson, executive director of West Oakland’s People’s Grocery, a nonprofit fighting food insecurity through the Grub Box CSA, leadership development, a community garden, greenhouse and cooking classes.

With the panelists coming from such different vantage points, the discussion was pretty wide ranging, but the focus repeatedly circled back to a fundamental issue of food justice that all of the panelists could directly speak to: poor diet, and the health problems caused by poor diet, are a direct function of economic disparity.

One of the most telling quotes to come from the evening was from Saul:  “If you are rich, you get organic and local; if you’re poor, you get diabetes.” Indeed, the statistics are jarring — $225 billion (that’s billion with a B) is spent on diabetes care in the U.S. alone, and the poor get diabetes twice as often as more well-off people do.

In many places – such as the liquor-store-dominated food deserts of the Oakland flatlands — limited access to fresh produce is a big factor, but it is also a question of price per calorie. Simply put, not only are fresh, healthy foods less available to the poor, but they are more expensive than high-calorie processed foods that are full of salt, sugar and fat – the very foods that have fueled the nation’s obesity and diabetes epidemic.

It is with no small irony, then, that what moderator Mark called the “food banking industry” has been complicit in the problem for decades by handing out heavily processed and packaged foods to those who are most susceptible to consuming them in the first place.  It was heartening to hear that food banks nationwide are beginning to turn away donations of unhealthy foods in order to introduce fresh fruits and vegetables to their recipients and teach them how to prepare them.

I was thinking about all of this as I left the Commonwealth Club’s office at Market and Montgomery and made my way toward BART. While I waited for the light to change, I saw a homeless guy stretch shoulder deep into a garbage can as he fished around the bottom for bottles. He pulled a couple out and opened them and consumed the remaining contents before putting the empties into a cardboard box, which he then started pushing down the sidewalk with his foot.

Now there’s a guy who could really use a couple bucks, I thought to myself. I pulled two ones from my pocket and crossed the street and approached him.

“Hey, man,” I said, “if I gave you $2, what would you do with it?” I was expecting him to say, “get some food” or maybe go for blunt honesty with, “buy a beer,” but what he said instead stopped me cold.  “I’d get a soda,” he said with zero hesitation as he took the money from me.

The guy was way too skinny to be healthy, and the thought of him chugging a corn-syrup Coke instead of getting the nourishment he obviously needed hit me like a brick.  I tweaked his biceps and told him he needed some meat on his bones and suggested some food instead. “OK, a soda and a burger” he said, looking up at a McDonalds storefront, which was now just steps away. “You need food,” I said, “foooood…!” I sang at him as I disappeared down into the BART tunnel.

Sitting and waiting for my train, I fumed.  Well-meaning, educated and affluent progressives can subscribe to organic food boxes, attend lectures and talk about food justice until they are blue in the face, but it means absolutely nothing to this homeless guy on Market Street, scrounging in garbage cans to feed his soda jones and turning to Mickey D’s for what passes as nourishment.

The work the food forum panelists (and others) are doing is vitally important and transformative wherever it touches individual lives, but as Henderson from People’s Grocery acknowledged, “there’s only so much we can do in these little pockets of proactivity in a reactive system.”

And there it is again. That word: system.  No, this is not an individual problem. It is a systemic problem. And systemic problems demand systemic solutions.

So here is the question: How do we change a system that teaches people to prefer unhealthy foods that are cheap, ubiquitous and deeply entrenched in American culture?  How do we create widespread, systemic change that alters one of the most basic relationships that humans have – their relationship with their food?

How do you get a homeless guy to crave an apple instead of a soda, or to want a fresh salad or sandwich instead of a cheap, greasy burger?

How?