Diet, Dessert and Dogs

[ONE LAST REMINDER: THE MAPLE SYRUP AND LAYER CAKE GIVEAWAY CONTEST ENDS TOMORROW!  IF YOU HAVEN'T YET, BE SURE TO LEAVE A COMMENT TO ENTER--MORE DETAILS ON THIS POST.]

Years ago, a friend at university introduced me to the massive tome Godel, Escher, Bach.  I was fascinated by the concept of discernible patterns that spanned mathematics, art, and music and began to read with great zeal.  Well, sorry to say, the book was way beyond my comprehension level at the time (and probably still today).  It did, however, introduce to me the visual acrobatics of MC Escher.  You’re likely familiar with some of his incredible optical illusions as well (if not, just click here to see the gallery).

Well, the HH and I have always said that our Girls are incredibly smart (doesn’t every parent feel that way?), but lately, they’ve been communicating their superior intelligence in tangible ways–by providing living illustrations of Escher’s work. 

Here are just a couple of the parallels and mirror images that manifested themselves over the course of a few days:

Exhibit A: The Girls seem to be suspended in a self-perpetuating doggie slumber. . . or are those, perhaps, two big hand-like dogs, drawing each other? 

Exhibit B: And then, just moments later, they’ve flipped to yet another position. . . are there really two dogs here, or just the mirror image of one?

Exhibit C: Is it a dog’s face, partly obscured? Or is that patch of light playing with our perception? 

“Whoah, Mum, that’s pretty deep.  Like, psychedelic, man. Are you sure you’re not a hippie?”

[ONLY THREE DAYS LEFT TO ENTER THE MAPLE SYRUP AND LAYER CAKE GIVEAWAY!  If you haven't yet entered, hop on over to this post and leave a comment! ] 

Alas, I was too young to be part of the Hippie Generation (Woodstock ’69; Flower Power; Bed-Ins for Peace; Turn On, Tune In, Drop Out; and so on).  On the other hand, The Nurse was a bona fide  Child of the Sixties (she even used to draw a little flower on her cheek every day–in pen–where Marilyn Monroe’s famous mole was positioned).  Up until my twenties (and based on the example of my sister and her friends), my idea of “hippie” went something like this:

a) long, flowing, basically unkempt hair (including on head, on legs, and under arms) and fingernails;

b) torn T-shirt (must be braless underneath if female), torn blue jeans, leather thong sandals;

c) slightly nasal, slightly lilting, sandpaper-on-velvet voice, usually directed at no one in particular;

c) à la Pig Pen*, frequently trailing a cloud of dusty smoke (which smelled suspiciously like a mix of burning rose petals and oregano);

d) said “groovy” and “cool” and “cat” and “establishment” a lot.

So when I enrolled as an undergrad at the University of Windsor and, at our first faculty-student event, met a real, honest-to-goodness hippie among the grad students there, I was surprised to see that she didn’t fit all the criteria I’d so assiduously lined up in my mind. 

The major difference between the textbook hippies (no oxymoron intended) and my new acquaintance, Ms. Floaty (she acquired that sobriquet because it seemed to me she could glide across a room without actually touching feet to floor), was that the latter, at least, knew how to cook from scratch. Not only that, she knew how to cook well.

Remember the original hippie food?  Generally full of soybean cakes and tasteless variations on tempeh and tofu.  If you’ve got a copy of the  Farm Cookbook, you’ll be amazed at how many of the recipes focus on soybeans, tofu, tempeh, soymilk, miso or even ice bean (soy ice cream)–though, judging from the photos in the book, the people on the Farm do all seem to fit the classic hippie prototype.  It’s those seminal hippie vittles that brought us favorites like “Oven Fried Gluten,” “Creamed Tempeh,” “Soysage Dogs” or “Gluten Burritos.” Of course, they ate more than just tofu.  They also ate beans, and brown rice, and sprouts.  And let’s not forget where the phrase “Crunchy Granola” came from–oats and nuts and seeds and oh, probably, tofu.  (Though I think that particular stereotype has been shattered for all time courtesy of Andrea’s take on the stuff–and her latest addition, with chocolate chips!).  

Ms. Floaty had her own, surprisingly tasty, repertoire.  She proffered a moist, dark and delectable cake studded with mysterious chips that she called “carob.”  I’d never tried carob before, and loved it immediately.  I was also lucky enough to sample her oat and coconut cookies, also featuring those unusual, exotic chips.  After I asked for the recipes, I was surprised to learn that everything she baked incorporated maple syrup as a sweetener.  Of course, it made sense: before the advent of agave nectar, maple syrup (along with the occasional brown rice or barley malt syrup) was the hippies’ and nature-loving folks’ sweetener of choice. 

As I’ve mentioned before, growing up in Quebec, I assumed maple syrup was as common as my father’s ex-girlfriend (well, that’s what my mom used to say about her, anyway). So I never really thought much about maple syrup as anything but a substitute for sugar, used whenever a certain sort type of sweetness was required; it never occurred to me to showcase the auburn ambrosia as the primary flavor in its own right. 

Not until, that is, I received my amazing sample of Coombs Family Farms Pure Organic Maple Syrup in the mail a few weeks ago.  I was agog as soon as I inhaled the stuff and immediately set about creating.  In honor of my cookbook’s impending publication (it does seem to be taking a rather long time, doesn’t it??), I even devised this giveaway for a liter of pure maple syrup or a custom-baked (Sweet Freedom recipe) layer cake. 

As a lead-in to the giveaway, I thought it only fitting to bake at least one item that was entirely infused with maple flavor.

And where does one go to find a foolproof cupcake–of any flavor or variety your fancy might touch upon?  Why, Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World, of course!

I started with Isa and Terry’s recipe for Maple Cupcakes and made my usual modifications so that the treats are compatible with the NAG diet (and don’t worry–both Maple Mania recipes were prepared the week before I started my current anti-candida cleanse, so I haven’t broken the diet! If you’re interested in an ACD update, though, you can check here).  The result was a single serving treat with an incredibly light crumb and gorgeous, heady maple aroma.  I didn’t bother to include the original’s 1-1/4 teaspoons (6 ml) maple extract (the syrup I had was that good)–and these were still intensely maple.  (Whoever wins that quart must make these!). 

Made with organic coconut oil and less soymilk powder than the original, the frosting, too, was superb–airy, creamy, light and, like the cake, rife with pure maple goodness.  I’d definitely recommend these confections for a special occasion–an anti-establishment rally, maybe, or even a bed-in. 

“Mum, you know it’s Chaser’s birthday next month. . . is that occasion special enough? I’m sure we could taste just a little of that frosting, don’t you think?”

Unfortunately, maple syrup is a bit too sweet for dogs, but the HH scarfed down his share of these goodies.  If you’re a fan of maple flavor, you will love these.

“Mum, we are crushed. We’re devastated.  I think you’re going to have to supply treats on demand from now on, just to make up for it.”

AND DON’T FORGET: YOU CAN WIN A QUART (LITER) OF PURE MAPLE SYRUP TO MAKE YOUR OWN MAPLE CUPCAKES. . . JUST CLICK HERE FOR DETAILS!

*Yes, I suppose it should have been “au Pig Pen,” but really, doesn’t that sound silly?

Last Year at this Time: Lucky Comestible II (2): Almond-Quinoa Muffins

© 2009 Diet, Dessert and Dogs

[Sometimes, you just want to eat something now.  I've decided to offer a mini-post every once in a while, for a dish that comes together incredibly quickly or else is so easy to make that no recipe is required. Here's today's "Flash in the Pan." (For other FitP recipes, see "Categories" at right).]

Before I get to today’s super-quick, super-easy, SUPER DELICIOUS recipe, I wanted to respond to all your generous comments about the new blog home (AND remind you all that there is only ONE WEEK left to enter the giveaway contest to win a quart (liter) of pure maple syrup or a custom-baked cake–be sure to get your comments in!) 

First : Thank you for all your positive feedback and support!  And thanks, too, for following DDD to its new home.  I’m glad that, overall, most of you like the new site.  I’ve attempted to incorporate as many of the suggestions as I could; please know that changes are limited by (a) the existing template, some of which can’t be modified without extensive knowledge of html (my knowledge of which extends about as far as the length of an eyelash); and (b) how much I can badger entice beg request from Blain, who has been implementing these revisions for me. 

Interestingly, I deliberately chose the white background and sparse look to replicate the old blog (even though it, too, was all white in back with an orange title and green blog post titles, it seems as if many of us–myself included–found the old site less “bare” looking!  I wonder what genetic wiring that’s connected to. . . ?).  I have changed the font, the glaring black-against-white color, and the comments link (the best we could do is highlight it at the bottom of each post, which I hope makes it more visible). 

The original idea for the site was to add a banner under the title (there’s a thin, long white space there now) with assorted photos across the top, but honestly, I don’t like any of my photos enough to leave them there all the time; and I’m growing rather fond of the clean, austere look (I figure at least something in my life should be unencumbered!). I’d love to one day put up a cartoon of The Girls’ faces as a kind of mascot (to the right of title “Diet, Dessert and Dogs”), but so far my cartooning skills aren’t up to snuff.  Any volunteers??

So, for now, anyway, this is the new look of DDD.  I’m sure it will evolve and grow with time. . . and after I take a few courses in web design.

And now, on to today’s supercalafragafantabuwonderlicious veggie recipe! 

(I liked it.  Can you tell?)

[I know our cruciferous friend here isn't exactly photogenic.  But he makes up for it a thousandfold in personality, believe me!]

Well, with my current (ACD-imposed) gluten-free diet–which will likely drag on  improve my transit time  leave me with post-traumatic stress sydrome continue for at least another month, I’ve been relying mostly on tried-and-true favorites, plus a whole lot of raw dishes (mostly salads–too boring to blog about). 

For some reason, I don’t seem to possess my usual zeal to create many new recipes based on the ACD requirements.  Oh, and I’m hungry all the time.  No, really, all the time.  (I used to know a guy in university who was such a chain smoker that his body woke him up around 3:00 AM every night so he could have a cigarette.  He’d roll out of bed, light up in the dark, then butt out and go back to sleep.  Well, that’s pretty much what it feels like to me, except substitute “food–ANY food” for ”cigarettes.”) 

And–worst of all–I seem to have misplaced my sense of humor on this diet. 

Curse thou, wretched ACD–

Do not my humor take from me!

(Thank goodness I haven’t lost my sense of poetry–for the time being, anyway).

While I’m waiting for both hunger to subside and humor to return, I discovered a simple and irresistible recipe to help tide me over. For quite some time now, I’ve been a regular follower of Cheryl’s cheery, informative blog, Gluten-Free Goodness (you should see some of the incredible, innovative ways she meets the Daring Bakers’ challenges on a restricted diet!).  And every month, I read her contribution to the “Adopt a Gluten-Free Blogger” event, and think, “Hmmm. . . . I should take part in that, too.” Though I’m not entirely gluten-free (except when following the ACD), I actually prefer most GF grains to wheat or spelt, and tend to cook that way quite often.

I read about Cheryl’s Coconut Curried Greens a couple of weeks ago and immediately thought, “Yes!  I love collards, too!”  And I’m always on the lookout for new ways to make them.  I mean, oil and garlic is great, but sometimes, you want something a little different–creamy, say, and coconutty, and a little spicy.

This Indian-inspired dish (it features a good hit of garam masala, one of my favorite Indian spices) is ready in a flash and rewards you with a rich, velvety sauce, one that’s slightly sweet from the combination of aforementioned spice and coconut milk–the perfect foil for the assertive, slightly bitter collards.  And the extra bit of sauce that pools at the bottom of the pan is perfect for dipping some chickpea cheela, which is exactly what I made to go alongside.

As Cheryl mentions in her own post, these are so good that she and her hubby “ended up fighting over leftovers.”  The HH and I didn’t fight, but we did resort to that age-old method used by moms everywhere, to ensure fairness when splitting food between bickering siblings:  one of us (that would be me) got to divide the mixture in half, thereby determining the size of each portion; and the other (the HH) got to choose which one he wanted first.  It’s the perfect way to guarantee absolutely equal division of portions, believe me. 

So, finally, here is my first entry to this month’s Adopt a Gluten Free Blogger.  Head on over to Book of Yum’s blog to see all the amazing GF creations!

I’m also entering this recipe in Kristen’s Fight Back Fridays blog carnival for healthy foods. . . check it out!

Creamy Coconut Collards

from Gluten Free Goodness: Recipe here

The only change I made to Cheryl’s original recipe was in preparation of the greens: rather than boil them first and then add to the sauce, I simply added the shredded greens to the coconut milk mixture in the pan and let the whole thing simmer for about 8-10 minutes for the sauce to thicken. I also used a can of full-fat coconut milk instead of the fresh coconut.

Last Year at this Time: Quinoa Salad with Buckwheat and Cranberries (and it happens to be gluten-free!)

© 2009 Diet, Dessert and Dogs

Can it be that spring has finally decided to grace us with its presence?  Tentative buds peek from beneath the scraggy clay, ennervated blades of grass sun themselves daily, waiting to transform from brittle,  strawlike shoots to brilliant green fringes undulating in tranquil breezes.  The sun is finally blazing overhead, causing pedestrians to peel off successive layers of clothing, first hat, then gloves, then scarf, then jacket as they stroll along, like human illustrations of the the classic Aesop fable.

Okay, enough with the purple prose!

Bah, spring, I say. I know; you’d think I’d be ecstatic, wouldn’t you?  After all,  I consider myself the unrivalled Queen of Wrath Against Winter.  In contrast to the frozen, snowy season, spring is a harbinger of new life. Flowers. Gurgling streams. Picnics in the park and “Paris in the-the.” The season premiere of Rescue Me. And yet, and yet. . . despite all this, spring has made me grumpy.   Why?

Well, this might give you an idea:

Spring, circa 1960s:

It’s late March, and Ricki is jumping with excitement. Spring means it’s time for the annual visit to Uncle L (not to be confused with Uncle S of the Planters Peanuts jar–no fun!) over at the coat factory.  Uncle L worked in the fashion district of Montreal, and once a year, Ricki’s mum took her and her two sisters to the factory so they could choose a new spring jacket–at wholesale prices!

What could be better?  A two-hour bus ride to the mysterious, exotic East End of Montreal (the all-Francophone area, into which they never ventured otherwise);  where everything was interesting and new, from the dark plumes of smoke that snaked across the sky from factory chimneys to the stray newspapers and empty plastic bags that swished across the neglected streets to the staccato joual that echoed down the alleys as they drove by.  All of it was fun and exhilarating–and best of all, it culminated in a new coat! Whee!

Spring, Circa 1980s:

Ricki and her two best friends from CEGEP are excited.  March means they’re going to Fort Lauderdale for Spring Break–their first vacation on their own and without parents!

What could be better?  A shared hotel room in a beachside hotel.  Six days sunning on the sand, lounge chairs and drinks by the cabana, three meals a day in restaurants. Evenings clearing the sand out of your swimsuit, getting gussied up and meeting scores of other twenty-somethings at bars and clubs. All of it was fun and exhilarating–and best of all, it culminated in a shopping spree (in American shopping malls, no less, with all those great brands we can’t get at home!)  Wheeee!

Spring, Circa March 22, 2009, 4:15 PM:

Spring means taxes.  What could be worse?

Grumbling while I gather my scattered paperwork from throughout the year, spend three hours organizing it into neat little piles across the kitchen table, then three more hours with a pad of paper and calculator, tallying up the numbers again and again and again, just to be sure. . . Whoah.

Spring means mud.  Lots and lots of mud.  What could be worse?

Wiping eight muddy paws, two muddy bellies and an occasional muddy chest two or three times a day over the course of the spring season (a locker room post-football game on a rainy day doesn’t even begin to compete with these muddy canine torsos). Walking dogs in springtime. . . .Whoah.

["Mum, to be fair, we really don't have a choice about the fur on the belly thing. . . unlike Dad, for instance."]

Spring means a yard that resembles, just a little too close for comfort, that mountainous pile of garbage and muck that Roy builds in his kitchen in Close Encounters of the Third Kind. Could it be any worse?

After all the snow and ice have melted, the ground underneath has heaved and repositioned itself, and the previously unmowed grass has wilted and yellowed, falling in heaps and whorls like matted hair shaved from an unkempt Goldendoodle (or was that an unkempt Joaquin Phoenix?)–what’s left is a sodden, muddy, tawny and gray yard that serves little purpose other than as bathroom for your dogs (see “Spring means mud,” above)–and awaits hours of your physical labor to clean it up and make it presentable.  Whoah.

Am I being a tad too negative?  Perhaps.  After all, taxes mean I actually have a job (something for which I’m extremely grateful in these hard times).  And muddy paws means I have two furry, exuberant Girls to brighten my every day.  A yard means I can finally, finally learn how to garden (remember last year’s monstrous mint fiasco?).

And so, as an attempt to bridge the gap between winter and spring, I decided to make this salad.

This is a recipe I created several years ago for a cooking class entitled, “Anti Candida Feast” (a rather ambitious title, I think now).  At the time, I wasn’t following the ACD myself, but had been asked by a few previous participants for an ACD-friendly menu.  And while I adore juiced beets (my favorite combo is beet, carrot, and ginger juice), I’ve never been a fan of raw beets in any other context.  I’ve always thought of beets as more of a winter veggie, to be roasted or boiled into soup.  This salad seemed the perfect means to combine the spirit of spring (in a raw dish) with these lovely crimson roots.

With its emphasis on beets, carrots and cilantro, I thought it would be the perfect submission to Weekend Herb Blogging, the weekly event started by Kalyn and now run by Haalo. This week’s host is Anna from Anna’s Cool Finds.

When I told the HH I was making a raw beet and carrot salad for dinner, his response was, “Blecccchhhh.  Beets taste like dirt.”

“But they’re good for your blood,” I countered.

“Don’t care,” he said. “Dirt.”

“But they cleanse the liver!”

“My liver is clean enough.”

“But” (and here, I admit I was reaching a bit)–”they can help test your transit time!”

“Transit time??  You mean, like, how long it takes the beets to go in one end and come out the oth—”

“Yep.”

“Okay, now I really don’t want to eat those beets.”

I mixed up the salad anyway, planning to consume it on my own.  But something about the vibrant colors, the springlike fuscia and orange, the heady aroma of lime and cilantro in combination, persuaded him to take a bite.  And in the end, he loved it!

“This doesn’t taste like beets at all,” he said, chewing on a mouthful of beets.

Seeing him devour that plate of salad, I felt happy to welcome the spring.  Exhilarated, even.

Wheeeee!

[PS You've still got nine days to enter the Maple Syrup and Chocolate Cake Giveaway!  Click here for details.]

Last year at this time: Spiced Carrot Gnocchi in a Creamy Sauce

© 2009 Diet, Dessert and Dogs

First, the blog news:  Welcome to the new home of DDD! We’re almost there–I’m about 95% moved in and unpacked so far. . . we’ve still got to add a virtual top coat of paint, rearrange some html furniture and hang some digital pictures before the rest is up and running over the next week or so, but everything is on site and functional!.   Please don’t forget to update your Google Reader, other subscription info and blogrolls  (it’s also much easier to subscribe to this new site–there’s a “subscribe” button to the left, just under the blog’s title–so hope that helps.  And note that the page tabs are now across the top of the page and not on the right as in the old site!). I’ll be transferring over here for good by next week. 

The site was set up and arranged by Blain Smith of 13 Infinite.  It’s been a pleasure to work with him on this–Blain’s communication style is easy and relaxed, yet always professional.  He’s also been very accommodating and incredibly quick about responding to all my emails regarding the site (not to mention very patient with my sometimes endless questions and requests!).  If you’re looking to set up a new blog, I’d highly recommend him.

Next, the cookbook news: my cookbook finally has a cover! 

(I’m guessing you might recognize some of those photos?  And I know, the red, white and blue looks very patriotic,no?)

Finally, the Double Giveaway News!!

I am very excited for this giveaway because it’s the perfect melding of my new blog, my new cookbook, and a product I love!

In honor of the cookbook’s cover being finalized, I decided to throw another giveaway to celebrate–add a new blog home, and it’s really a reason to party! (Get those chandeliers and lampshades ready!)

So here’s the scoop:

WHAT YOU CAN WIN

PRIZE ONE:  ANYONE IN NORTH AMERICA CAN WIN (again, a HUGE apology to my overseas readers–shipping costs prohibit overseas delivery.  BUT I DO PROMISE THAT THE NEXT GIVEAWAY WILL ABSOLUTELY INCLUDE ANYONE ON THE PLANET!)

Win a quart-sized jug of Coombs Family Farms Pure Maple Syrup! 

[This is a photo of the glass bottle I received--the quart jug prize is four times this big!]

Yes, the prize is the same amazing maple syrup I wrote about in my previous post. And when the people at Coombs Family Farms heard how much I loved their syrup, and how much my readers wished they could taste some, they said, “Okay!  Let’s give some away!”  Who am I to argue?  I said, “YEEEE-AAH.” 

With a full quart (about a liter) of pure maple syrup, you can bake every maple-based recipe on this blog, and probably all the maple-based recipes in my new book, too!  And I can’t wait for one of you to sample this extraordinary product as well, and tell me what you think!

PRIZE  TWO: THOSE IN THE TORONTO AREA CAN WIN (to ensure freshness, it has to be within Toronto, or you must be willing to meet me within Toronto–I am really sorry it can’t be everywhere!  sniff!)

A custom-baked chocolate layer cake from the Sweet Freedom recipe–made to your specifications!

After I posted about the cake I made for my friend Eternal Optimist’s birthday, I was touched by so many positive comments about the cake.  This is the same recipe I used for several years when I baked birthday cakes for kids with food sensitivities to wheat, eggs, dairy and refined sugar–and was a regular hit with the kids and adults alike (low-gluten, but not gluten free). The 9-inch layer cake serves 10-12 people comfortably.

Now, I’d love for a lucky reader to sample this chocolately, moist and light cake, too!  And you get to design the frosting/filling, plus whether you’d like a message on the cake as well.  (We’ll choose a mutually convenient delivery time so that you can even plan to serve the cake to family, friends, or party guests!)

Here’s what you can choose:

• Chocolate layers with vanilla pastry cream filling and chocolate buttercream frosting
• Chocolate layers with all chocolate–filling and frosting
• Chocolate layers with sweet potato truffle filling and chocolate frosting
• Chocolate layers with chocolate filling and sweet potato truffle frosting (the cake in the photo above)
• Message of your choice in any color frosting (or no message–it’s up to you).

I’ll deliver the cake freshly baked and frosted so it’s ready to serve!

HOW TO ENTER:

Entering couldn’t be easier–simply click on over to my new blog home, take a look around, then let me know either:

1) what more you’d like to see on the blog (any other features you’d like me to add?  Something you’re missing from the old blog? –etc.) OR

2) what you like best about the new blog if you can’t think of anything you’d like to be different. 

FOR A CHANCE AT TWO EXTRA ENTRIES, simply mention the contest on your own blog, if you have one, and link to this very page on the new blog (ie, this page).

Don’t have a blog?  You can still earn two extra entries!  Simply browse through the Recipe Index on the new DDD  (or you can click on the “Recipes” tab, above, or just do a search on “maple syrup”) and choose a favorite recipe that uses maple syrup (some of the links haven’t been shifted to the new blog yet, so you might still be in the old blog when you click on a recipe title–I’m in the process of changing them all over).  Then comment again, letting me know which one you like best, and why–and you’ll be entered two more times.

Please be sure to include a valid email address so I can get in touch with you if you win.  And if you’re eligible for the cake, please be sure to mention that in your comment, too!

That’s it! 

Please post your comments on the new site (this one) to be eligible to win–that way I can keep track of all the entries in one place. 

HOW IT WILL WORK:

Once the contest closes, I’ll choose two winners from a bag of names.  The first Toronto-area name I withdraw will win the cake.  Then all the other names go back into the bag for the maple syrup draw, and the second name I choose wins that. 

DEADLINE AND ANNOUNCEMENT:

1. Deadline for entries is midnight, March 31, 2009, Toronto time. 
2. Winners will be announced first thing on April 2, 2009 (I wouldn’t dare post contest winners on April Fool’s Day!). 

I loved baking up a storm for the previous giveaway, and was thrilled with Lisa’s kind words about the Sweet Freedom goodies. 

I can’t wait to get baking on this cake for you this time round as well.  And even if you can’t win the cake, you’re still eligible to win the syrup–so you can then bake your own delectable treats!

HAPPY SPRING, EVERYONE!

[Welcome to the new home of Diet, Dessert and Dogs!  I'm still tweaking the format and layout of the blog, so please bear with me while I update some links, combine some page tabs, etc.  It should all be up and running smoothly within the next week or so!]

A few weeks ago, I was contacted by Coombs Family Farms, an organic farm in Vermont that specializes in “all things maple,” to see if I’d like to sample some of their syrup.  Since maple syrup is a well-loved staple in my kitchen and many of my baked goods feature it as a key sweetener,  I was delighted to accept their offer and eagerly awaited the package.

A few days later, I received this:

A bottle of their certified organic syrup, along with a maple-leaf shaped piece of maple candy!

Anyone who’s ever consumed real maple syrup can attest to its unique flavor–sweet, slightly smoky, with an appealing, earthy aroma.  Made from the sap of maple trees, it’s naturally rich in minerals (per volume, higher in calcium than dairy milk!). The syrup is available for purchase in three grades of A (light, medium and dark) and one of  B–each darker and more intensely flavored than the last. I was sent a bottle of grade B, an intense, soulful auburn that was so thick and deep it was nearly opaque.  As soon as I removed the cap, the maple perfume escaped to envelop the room with that distinctive scent. 

Now, I’ve enjoyed maple syrup for many years.  Like pretty much everyone raised in Quebec–the heart of Canada’s maple country–I consider myself a maple aficionado, if not an expert.  Maple syrup is ubiquitous in La Belle Province: you can find it on every checkered tablecloth in every greasy-spoon breakfast diner, cheerily lining the shelves in corner grocery stores, awaiting the call in every kitchen cupboard.  When I was in grade school, each spring our class would make an annual trek up north for “sugaring off” parties, where freshly tapped, warmed maple syrup was poured over vast expanses of pristine snow to create a kind of maple taffy that we kids scrambled to scoop up with plastic spoons.  I might even classify myself as a bit of a maple syrup snob, in fact, one who’d never even consider trying the artificially flavored stuff from that iconic slender-waisted bottle.

Still, despite my fine maple sensibilities, I’ve never really thought it essential to buy organic maple syrup.  For one thing, the price is usually, shall we say, immoderate.  In addition, I’ve always recalled a conversation I had with a student once in a sociology of food course I was teaching.  She mentioned that her family owned a local maple tree farm.  There was really no difference between organic and non-organic syrup, she explained, since most maple trees aren’t sprayed with pesticides anyway (unless infected by some vermin or another). I filed away that bit of information and continued to purchase my regular (non-organic) variety.

Well, let me tell you, that student got it wrong (luckily, she wasn’t writing a test at the time). Now that I’ve tasted the Coomb’s organic version, I’m not sure I can go back to my generic brand.  Their syrup is outstanding, with a rich, deep amber color and more intense maple flavor than I’ve ever tasted.  It’s perfectly sweet and subtly smoky, with a heightened maple essence that lingers gently on the palate, enduring like an unexpected compliment. 

Seriously, I may not be able to tolerate my old brand any more.  To heck with the price–I’ll just have to be more judicious in my use of it, I reckon.  Or else use a bit less and savor every drop more.  Or simply ignore the cost entirely (I suspect that a pawn shop may come into play at some point).  Seriously, it’s that good.

My first taste of the syrup was straight, poured onto the Lemony Almond Pancakes I wrote about a few days ago (I wanted to sample the delicacy in its pure, unadulterated state before combining it with other ingredients).  The flavors melded beautifully, the maple’s presence strong enough to match the zesty lemon while counterbalancing the slight sourness of it.  The HH practically asked to drink the stuff straight out of the bottle (but I wouldn’t let him, of course, as I was saving it for my subsequent kitchen experiments). He did manage to polish off the maple candy in one sitting, however–I got barely a nibble!

With such a winning flavor, I opted to design a cookie that would really showcase the unique taste that is “maple.”  I concocted these Maple Flax cookies (sorry, the two of you who are also on the ACD; these are NOT ACD-friendly–I created this recipe a couple of weeks ago).  They are naturally gluten free (and even flour-free, in fact).  In this case, the light, chewy texture was a natural outgrowth of my desire to minimize other ingredients  in order to allow the natural maple to shine through.  And you will most definitely taste it, with every chewy, sticky, sweet and maple-y bite.

Thanks again to everyone at Coombs Family Farms for allowing me to sample this extraordinary product.  Now my only lament is that I can’t find any more of it here in Toronto!

They’re not quite Irish, but since they contain oats, I can claim a Celtic connection, anyway. . . Happy St. Patrick’s Day, everyone!

P.S.  It’s time for another Sweet Freedom giveaway. . . stay tuned for details next post!

Maple Flax Cookies

Looking somewhat like oatmeal cookies, with a crunchy exterior and chewy center, these intesely maple-flavored treats will please everyone.  Whole flax seeds add bulk, while the oatmeal and flax meal both contribute heart-healthy soluble fiber.

1/2 cup (60 g) whole old-fashioned rolled oats (not instant or quick cook)

1 Tbsp (15 ml) coconut oil, solid at room temperature*

3 Tbsp (45 ml) pure maple syrup

2 Tbsp (30 ml) Sucanat or other unrefined evaporated cane juice

1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) pure vanilla extract

2 Tbsp (30 ml) finely ground flax seeds

3 Tbsp (45 ml) whole flax seeds

1/4 tsp (1 ml) baking soda

1/4 tsp (1 ml) baking powder

1/8 tsp (.5 ml) fine sea salt

Preheat oven to 350F (180C).  Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper, or spray with nonstick spray.

In the bowl of a mini food processor or coffee grinder, whir the oats until they resemble a coarse meal.  Pour the meal into a small bowl and set aside.

To the unwashed processor bowl, add the coconut oil, maple syrup, Sucanat and ground flax seeds.  Blend until combined well and smooth.  Set aside while you measure the rest of the dry ingredients, or at least 2 minutes.

To the bowl of oats, add the whole flax seeds, baking soda, baking powder and salt, and mix to distribute everything.  Pour the wet ingredients over the dry and stir to create a sticky “dough”. 

Using a melon baller or teaspoon, drop the mixture onto cookie sheet about 2 inches (5 cm) apart.  Do not flatten the cookies (they will spread on their own).

Bake 10-13 minutes, until puffed and cracked on top and dry on the edges.  Allow to cool completely before removing from sheet (they will firm up as they cool).  Makes 8-10 cookies.  May be frozen.

* If your room temperature is warm enough that the coconut oil melts, place it in the refrigerator for 10 minutes or so to firm up before using in this recipe.

Last Year at This Time:  Katie’s Creamy Aspara-Dip

© 2009 Diet, Dessert and Dogs

[It was great to read so many positive messages from all you okra fans in response to my last post.  Who knew there were so many okra supporters out there?  Here's to a new image for our pal okra!  To the dawning of the age of okra--a new era is born, and it's brimming with green pods and seeds! Okra is cool!  Okra is au courant!  Okra rules! O-Kra! O-Kra! O-Kra! Whoo!]

[No, you're not allowed this on the ACD diet. Image courtesy of Naijablog.]

Now that I’ve completed my first week of strict adherence to the Anti-Candida Diet (ACD), I thought I’d put down some thoughts and reactions for those of you who are contemplating embarking on it, or for those who are simply curious. (If you’re here seeking a new recipe, please come back tomorrow–we’ll have cookies!)

First, I am thrilled to say I have not veered even one iota from the procrustean parameters of the diet.  Having said that, I’m also amazed at how difficult I am finding it this time round.

Maybe I’d just forgotten how painful the process was last time, nine years ago, but I don’t recall struggling with it this much back then. Somehow, a decade made all the difference!  True, I am also nine years older, and nine years closer to the dreaded “M” stage of life. ** Or maybe those little candida critters have been pumping iron in the interim and are now more resilient than ever. 

[You are allowed burgers (sans bread)--but who would want one? Image courtesy of Beltway Confidential.]

As I mentioned in my previous post, this diet requires elimination of any food that could feed yeast or help yeast to grow (ie, allergens, toxins, etc.), leaving precious little to eat.  For omnivores, the bulk of the diet would become meat, chicken, fish, eggs. But if you don’t eat those foods, not much else remains once you cut out all grains and fruits, plus some veggies (okay, not all grains; I’m allowed 1/4 cup of one gluten-free grain per day)–not to mention sauces, condiments, alcohol, fermented foods, and so on.

Here’s what you should know if you’re curious about trying the ACD.

The Challenges:

Because I’d done this before, I was already aware of a few of these challenges, which made it a bit easier to follow the diet.  Still, it can be very difficult to stick with it unless you’re prepared for some of the following. 

• No Dessert for You.  Since most people on this diet are addicted to sweets, cutting out the usual baked goods, puddings, candies, cakes, pies, etc. is really tough.  Initially, my body went carb-crazy and I had to eat something every two hours or so to keep my blood sugar levels steady.  This passed by day three (thankfully–it can really mess up your schedule!). I’ve also managed to create a few ACD-friendly “desserts”–which I’ll post anon.

[Here's your dessert on the ACD. Image courtesy of Innocent Creativity blog.]

• Precious Few Grains. The first phase of the diet eliminates most carbs, and allows very few of the “acceptable” ones.  To my mind, it seems very similar to a low-carb or low-GI diet.  Which would make sense, I suppose, since its purpose is to starve off candida albicans–an organism that feeds on sugar (including blood sugar).
• Hunger.  Perhaps I should more accurately designate the feeling  as “unresolved cravings.”  I mean, I can count on one hand the times I’ve experienced true hunger.  On this topic, I think Mark Bittman has something useful to say. A couple of weeks ago, I heard an interview with the man, discussing his newest tome, Food Matters.  Among other things, Bittman mentioned how his “vegan until six” diet plan helped him lose 35 pounds and regain his health. 

In the radio interview, he was asked how he managed to alter his diet so radically and still stick with the plan. His response was enlightening (and I paraphrase liberally here): “Well, consider the three major needs in our lives, for food, sleep, and sex.  We all learn to control our sexual urges fairly early on; and certainly most of us in the working world regularly ignore our need for sleep.  Yet we never, ever, in our society, are willing to allow ourselves to feel hungry.  Like needs for sex and sleep, why can’t we just ignore it when we feel hungry sometimes?” 

For me, Bittman’s comment was a little epiphany. Clearly, my appetite is telling me to eat when I don’t actually require more food; the ACD supplies all the nutritional requirements necessary. What I’m fighting is the desire for those last six Hershey kisses just because they’re left at the bottom of the bag (and really, why would you leave six little kisses sitting there?) or the mindless crunching on handfuls of Red Hot Blues because I just got home from work and dinner won’t be ready for a couple of hours and what else am I going to do while I peek intermittently at Oprah?–well, you get the idea.  Remembering Bittman’s advice this past week allowed me to overcome those cravings, at least most of the time. 

• Die-Off Reaction.  As the yeasty beasties die off, they release toxins into the system that must then be filtered and cleared out by your own detoxification systems of liver and kidneys.  This can be tough on your body.  The second day of the diet, I was convinced I was coming down with a flu: my forehead pulsated, my muscles felt weak, all I wanted to do was sleep.  By day three, it had disappeared.  Even though you may feel worse initially, it’s important to push through.

The Benefits:

It’s been a mere seven days, but already I can recognzie a few of the benefits of this cleanse:

• Symptoms abate.  Almost immediately, I noticed that my chronically blocked sinuses began to clear.  I had a strange sensation of, “hey! What’s all that air in my nose?” before I realized, “oh, THIS is what it feels like to breathe out of both nostrils.”  Similarly, the muscle weakness disappeared, some tummy grumblings cleared significantly, eyes were less swollen in the AM, and so on.
• Clarity of Thought. One of the oft-mentioned symptoms of candida overload is fuzzy thinking or inability to concentrate.  This will begin to clear once the yeast begin to die off, after about 3 days or so.
• Energy.  Yeast and other toxins sap your energy.  Once they begin to take a hike, your energy returns–and you’re suddenly intensely grateful for the extra hours you have during each day to blog, read, meditate, spend time with loved ones, or do anything else you please.

[I concur, Mum--it's great to have boundless energy! You should try rolling on the grass some time!]

I won’t be chronicling the events of every week in this much detail, but will likely mention the more significant milestonres every now and again as I move through the process over the next five weeks.  If anyone has any specific questions about the diet or the experience, please let me know and I’d be happy to address them in an upcoming post as well.

“Um, Mum, you know that no one could be more serious about food and eating than we are.  .  . but really, I think you need to take a chill pill on this one.  Because this post is really a downer.”

I don’t mean this post as a downer.  The ACD will tax your willpower and force you to confront your worst eating habits. . . but that can be a really good thing.  For me, it’s a necessity.  Well, every nine years or so, anyway. 

** no, not “Marriage,” though that might throw me just as much.  I meant “Menopause.”

© 2009 Diet, Dessert and Dogs

* Or, Give Pods a Chance!

[Okra pods, in the raw]

I have a confession to make.  I haven’t told you all about this yet because, quite frankly, I was afraid you’d reject me.  Move that cursor elsewhere, and click.  At best, roll your eyes.  Maybe snort in disgust.  Maybe gag, even.

But I’ve decided it’s time.  I mean, really, what kind of lasting relationship can we have without full disclosure?  

So I’m just going to come out and say it:

I love okra.

I.

Love.

Okra. 

Are you running for the hills yet? 

Oh, I know what you’re thinking:  Okra?  That polygonal pod that’s a staple in gumbo, and mostly reviled? That much-maligned member of the marrow family (but cocoa is in that family, too!) that most people reject without so much as a nibble?  That pariah of the produce aisle that’s often referred to as gluey, viscous, slimy or mucilaginous–with seeds that remind you of those bowls of peeled grape “eyeballs” we all stuck our hands into at Halloween when we were kids?

Yep. That okra.

I adore okra’s long, lantern-shaped pods, the vibrant green skins with just a hint of fuzz and the wagon-wheel innards when you cut them across. I love the mild, slightly woodsy flavor and the pop of the seeds in your mouth.  I could eat okra every day, and never tire of it.

I think it’s heartbreaking that okra gets such a bad rap.  Okra is like the pimply nerd at school–the reject, the Carrie, the Napoleon Dynamite , the Ugly Betty.  The last kid to be chosen for the baseball team.  The scrawny kid on the beach who gets sand kicked in his face.  The pink-and-too-frilly kid who takes her dad to the prom. The computer geek nobody wants to date so then he quits high school and starts some computer company run from his parents garage and redeems himself by becoming the richest guy in America. . . oh, wait.  That would make him Bill Gates, wouldn’t it?  And then he’d actually be much sought after, wouldn’t he? Well, heck! To my mind, that IS okra!

[A bit of spice, a bit of bite, a bit of lemon zest: an endearing combination.]

I think we should give okra the accolades it deserves. Let’s nurture its low self-esteem. Let’s compliment its grassy hue and lovely symmetry, tug its cute little tail at the narrow end and make it blush.  Sure, it was born a green vegetable (already at a disadvantage compared to, say, watermelon).  And then there’s the goo factor.  But sometimes, with a recipe that takes our humble ingredient and pushes it to be its best, well, that little green lantern can really shine.  That’s what I wish for my buddy, okra.

In these recipes, okra is elevated to something that transcends its reputation. It’s like okra gussied up for a date.  Okra getting an A+ in physics. Okra at its best self–I know, like okra after taking one of Oprah’s “Be Your Best Self” weekends!  (Just imagine the introductions at that seminar, sort of like David Letterman’s ill-fated attempt at hosting the Oscars:  “Okra, meet Oprah.  Oprah, okra.”).

Besides, okra has much to offer us.  Described by WholeHealthMD as having a taste that “falls somewhere between that of eggplant and asparagus,” it’s a good source of Vitamin C and several minerals; and the seeds offer up protein in every pod, along with 4 grams of both soluble (known to help keep cholesterol levels in check) and insoluble (great for regularity) fiber in a one-cup (240 ml) serving.

[Still slightly al dente in this photo; cook a bit longer if you're an okra neophyte.]

These are two of my favorite okra dishes, ones that we consume fairly regularly here in the DDD household.  The first is another adaptation from my dog-eared copy of Flip Shelton’s Green, a Moroccan Spiced Okra-Quinoa Pilaf.  I’ve made liberal changes to this one, including altering the base from rice to quinoa.  The spices are subtle with a barely detectable undertone of lemon zest in the mix.  Served sprinkled with chopped nuts, this pilaf is a meal in a bowl all on its own.

The second dish comes from one of my all-time favorite cookbooks, Indian Cooking Course by Manisha Kanani. Again, I’ve made a few alterations to the original, which asks you to dry-cook the okra on the stovetop; I’ve found that adding chopped tomatoes and allowing the tender pods to stew in the juices produces a more appealing taste and texture. Although a masala curry, this one isn’t the least bit spicy, yet is still rife with the flavors of tomato, cumin, coriander and fresh cilantro. It’s a perfect side dish for Indian food, of course, but we also enjoy this as an accompaniment to burgers or cooked grains. 

So go ahead, give okra a try!  Who knows? You may even like it.  And don’t worry, the secret will be safe with me.

Moroccan-Spiced Pilaf with Quinoa and Okra

adapted from Flip Shelton’s Green

Subtle flavors of warming spices and comforting vegetables, this quinoa-based pilaf can be made with any favorite grain. 

2 Tbsp (30 ml) extra virgin olive oil

1 medium onion, diced fine

2 medium carrots, diced

3 cloves garlic, minced

1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) chili flakes

2 tsp (10 ml) ground ginger

2 tsp (10 ml) ground cumin

1 tsp (5 ml) ground coriander

1 cup (240 ml) dry quinoa

1/2 cup (120 ml) green or brown lentils

3-4 cups (720-960 ml) vegetable broth or stock

freshly grated zest of one lemon

4 ounces (100 g) okra, washed, trimmed and cut into pieces

1/2 cup (120 ml) fresh cilantro leaves, chopped

1/2 cup (75 g) roughly chopped cashews or pistachios

Preheat oven to 350 F (180 C).  Grease a large covered casserole dish.

In a large pot or dutch oven, heat the oil over medium heat; add onion, carrot, garlic, chili flakes, ginger, cumin and coriander.  Stir until the vegetables start to soften and the spices are fragrant.   Add the quinoa and lentils and cook for a few minutes more.  Add the broth, lemon zest and okra and return to the boil. Remove from heat.

Pour the mixture into the prepared casserole dish, cover, and bake for 45-50 minutes, until the liquid is mostly absorbed.  Sprinkle with the cilantro and nuts before serving.  Makes 4 servings.  May be frozen.

Anti-Candida Variation: omit the nuts, or use chopped almonds instead.

Okra Masala

adapted from Indian Cooking Course by Manisha Kanani

This is the perfect introduction to those wary of okra: keeping the pods whole prevents the juices from being released, and once the okra is cooked it’s not the least bit gooey inside.  Be sure the pods are very soft and cooked through (the color will darken to an olive green) for best effect.

1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) ground turmeric

1 tsp (5 ml) mild chili powder

1 Tbsp (30 ml) ground cumin

1 Tbsp (30 ml) gorund coriander

1/4 tsp (1 ml) fine sea salt

1/4 tsp (1 ml) agave nectar or Sucanat

1 Tbsp (15 ml) fresh lemon juice

2 Tbsp (30 ml) finely chopped fresh cilantro leaves

1 Tbsp (15 ml) extra virgin olive oil

1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) cumin seeds

1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) black mustard seeds

2 large tomatoes, diced

1 pound (450 g) okra or green beans, or a combination (washed and trimmed but not cut)

In a small bowl, combine the turmeric, chili powder, cumin, ground coriander, salt, agave, lemon juice and chopped cilantro (the mixture will still be fairly dry).

Heat the oil in a large frypan over medium heat and add the cumin and mustard seeds; fry for about 2 minutes, or until they begin to splutter and pop.

Add the spice mixture and continue to cook for another 2 minutes.

Add the tomatoes and okra and stir to coat well.  Lower heat to simmer, cover, and cook until the okra is very tender and most of the moisture from the tomatoes has evaporated, 25-35 minutes. Garnish with more chopped cilantro if desired.  Makes 4 servings. 

Anti-Candida Variation: Use 3-5 drops of stevia in place of the agave or Sucanat.

Last Year at this Time: Maple-Walnut Cookies

© 2009 Diet, Dessert and Dogs

I’m going to be dashing around town for the next couple of days, doing cooking classes (short notice, but if you’re in the Toronto area, I’ll be at the Bayview/Sheppard Loblaws tonight at 7:00–would love to meet you!), and then my friend Babe is coming to town tomorrow, so I won’t have much time for cooking (except for other people, that is). 

When we were undergraduates, my friend Babe had a roster of what she called “permadates.”  These were straight guys who were no more than friends, but were willing to stand in whenever a male presence was required–at a work function, say, a family wedding or bar mitzvah, a school reunion, etc.  She’d call up the permadate and he was always happy to receive a free meal, free booze, and maybe some dancing in exchange for allowing Babe hang on to his rippled bicep and elbow for the evening.  A win-win!

I think the same concept extends to foods as well.  Don’t we all have our own favored dishes, the go-to recipes that we whip up when we need something that will impress, will look good and taste good–and which won’t expect any “favors” at the end of the evening?  These are the “permadishes,” the old standbys that never disappoint.

I’ve been relying a lot on “candida standbys”–simple foods that are compatible with the ACD–this week.  A lettuce wrap here, some baked tofu (without soy sauce, of course) there, here a roasted veggie, there a baked sweet potato, raw almonds and pumpkin seeds everywhere. 

Then I realized I’ve already got quite a few candida-friendly dishes right here on this blog–dishes that are already in my repertoire, but happen to be suitable for the ACD.  These are great for anyone who’s battling candida, but even more, for anyone who’s seeking a cleaner, less toxic, anti-inflammatory, immune-boosting diet as well. 

Until I cook again, I’ll leave you with some of these reliable favorites.  Nothing like a good permadish to get you through a busy week!

• Raw Almond-Veggie Pâté (omit miso if you’re sensitive)
• The Perfect Guacamole
• Cheela (Chickpea pancakes)
• Avocado Mayonnaise
• Lentil-Tomato Spaghetti Sauce (omit the spaghetti, of course!)
• Roasted Garlic and Pumpkinseed Pesto
• Balti Tofu and Chickpeas in a Thick Creamy Coconut Sauce
• Kitchari (an anti-candida stew)
• Quick and Easy Tofu Masala (omit mushrooms for ACD)
• Sweet Potato and Kasha Burgers (use non-fermented soy sauce, such as Bragg’s)
• Cauliflower, Parsnip and Bean Mash
• Kale and Avocado Salad
• Dandelion-Potato Salad (some diets permit potatoes in moderation)
• Spiced Cauliflower Soup
• Easy Millet and Red Pepper Pilaf
• Sweet Potato “Fries”

“Mum, how about considering us permadogs?  You know you can count on us.  And of course I always rely on my big sister to take good care of me, too.” 

“Aw, zip it, Chaser–you’re making me blush.”

[Changes are afoot: I'll be revamping the blogroll (actually, the entire site!) in a few weeks and want to be sure I don't miss any of the blogs I regularly enjoy reading.  If you'd like to be included--and especially if I've ever commented on your site--please let me know if you're not already on the list!  I'll do my best to include everyone.]

These days, I try to be a little nutty every day.

Of course I don’t mean “nutty” as in “I missed my plane so I’m going to become a minor celebrity on YouTube” nutty.  Or  ”I think I’ll switch careers at the pinnacle of my success and adopt the mien of a skid row bum from another planet“ type of nutty.  And certainly not  “just drop me in the middle of the Sahara without any food, water or shelter, and see how I hold up for a week” sort of nutty. While it may be true I do, on occasion, exhibit behavior one might characterize as “nutty” (at least that’s what the HH keeps telling me), I was referring to the toothsome, bite-sized, healthy-fat-and-protein-rich kind of nutty. An “Uncle S.” kind of nutty.

You see, I’ve had a fairly rocky history with nuts–and I blame it all on my Uncle S.

One of my favorite relatives, Uncle S (along with Aunty M) lived upstairs in our family’s duplex during my childhood.  We kids would scoot out the door, up the stairs and into their home without a thought or an invitation, assuming it was simply the top floor of our own place.  Aunty M would greet us, hand over some homemade cookies, and then we’d go seek out our uncle.

I have to admit, I didn’t fully appreciate Uncle S’s unique charms until I was an adult.  An unrivalled prankster, Uncle S was a puckish,  Punk’d prototype whose myriad tricks were relentless.  Case in point: every Sunday, our family would pile into Uncle S’s taxi (this was before my dad acquired a car) for an outing in the countryside.  We’d drive for a while, after which, like clockwork, Uncle S would begin to hem and haw:  “Gee, I don’t remember passing that tree over there.  Maybe I took a wrong turn. You know, I’m not exactly sure where we are–maybe we’re lost.  Ricki, which way should I go?”  Given that I was only four or five at the time, I had no idea; but, also like clockwork, Uncle S’s musings sent me into paroxysms of anxiety, certain I’d be wandering forever in the woods, never to see my own home, bed or Barbie dolls again.

Once I grew older, I could appreciate Uncle S’s humor, his always jovial and somewhat michievious expression, reminiscent of the Pillsbury Dough Boy (although not in any way chubby). In fact, I’d say Uncle S resembled a cartoon character more than anything else: having lost his hair as a young man, his shiny dome was encircled with a fluffy white fringe that snaked round the back of his neck and behind his ears.  His nose, slightly bulbous at the tip, was, like his cheeks, often flushed pink,  and he wore a perpetual half-smile on his face.

Uncle S had a favorite expression, “No Fun!”  which he used the way one would utter, “No Way!” or “You’ve Gotta Be Kidding Me!”.  The CFO and I found this endlessly amusing. To wit:

Ricki: Uncle S, my goldfish had babies and now we have four fishies.

Uncle S:  No Fun!

[Ricki and The CFO erupt in peals of uncontrollable giggles, hands clamped over their mouths].

The summer my mother died, it seemed only Uncle S could lighten the moribund shroud of silence in the hospital waiting room where our family sat in stunned silence.  Uncle S would ramble on, his words always infused with optimism and hope.  One evening, as we all sat lost in resigned torpor, Uncle S was positioned across from me and the CFO, an absent, bemused expression on his face.  The CFO leaned over to me and whispered, “Hey, doesn’t Uncle S sort of look like Bozo the Clown?”  That smile! That fringe! That nose!  Why yes, yes he did–and with that, Uncle S unwittingly bestowed on us a truly priceless gift: the only moment of unrestrained hilarity in an otherwise unbearable summer.

Ah, yes, you’re wondering about the nuts.

Uncle S loved to eat nuts. In particular, he was never without his glass jar of Planter’s Dry Roasted peanuts, which he carried with him wherever he went.  Another open jar was stationed on a TV tray beside his armchair so he could munch as he enjoyed the Ed Sullivan Show.  He’d pour a small mound into his open palm, then tip it into his mouth with a quick flick of the wrist as if tossing a ball for a prize at the midway. Then he’d plow ahead with whatever it was he’d been saying,  mouth open and chewing, oblivious as the ground up bits of nut began to escape his mouth in little bursts of beige spray as he spoke.  (In fact, those Planter’s nuts and an opened can of peas and carrots–spooned straight from the can, cold–are pretty much all I ever remember him eating).

For some inexplicable reason, I decided nuts were not my thing back then.

I’m happy to report that my nut aversion was finally overcome when I came across Elaine Gottschall’s Specific Carbohydrate Diet (geared toward people with Crohn’s, Colitis, or other bowel diseases) while studying nutrition. Her recipes employ nut flours (basically just ground nuts), and I began to experiment with them back then.  Almonds tend to be the most versatile (and mildest in flavor), but almost any nut will do–pop it in a food processor and blend to a mealy consistency.

To some extent, I’m following the ACD  for the next month or so to heal my gut and encourage a little digestive rejuvenation. This means eating less gluten, fewer grains, and more fruits, vegetables, and legumes.  These pancakes were an auspicious first attempt.

Made mostly with almond meal and a smidge of chickpea (besan) flour, they nevertheless retain a light, airy texture and a refreshing lemon tang.  Neither the almond nor the chickpea asserts itself too prominently, so the flavor remains mild.  I served these last week (before eschewing all sweeteners) with a splash of organic maple syrup from Coombs Family Farms that I received as sample (more on that in an upcoming post) and they were, quite simply, delicious.

I may not be nutty enough to consume a jar of Planter’s peanuts just yet.  Still, these little treats are a healthy step in the right direction.

Last Year at this Time: Week at Warp Speed and Easy Dinner

© 2009 Diet, Dessert and Dogs