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Well, I suppose it had to happen eventually. . . winter has finally arrived in Toronto. *Sigh*. I really, really would love to live somewhere that I don’t have to don at least 4 layers of clothing (that would include torso, head, hands, and feet) in order just to walk out the door without permanently damaging my epidermis. To allow the dogs a mere 12 minutes of romping at the local baseball field (that was all I could stand of the chill), it took 15 minutes to get dressed and another 10 to peel off the top 3 layers when I got home. Dogs are lucky that way, aren’t they? Permanent fur coat; gloves not required. (“That may be true, Mum, and we love the cold, but you do have that opposable thumbs thing going on, which could definitely be perceived as an advantage.”)
Well, cold weather makes me think of soup. And soup on a winter’s day makes me think of my mother’s chicken soup, a Friday night ritual in our house throughout my childhood, even though my dad worked late every Friday and didn’t even stride through the door until we kids were already in pyjamas. Friday night was Chicken Soup Night.
And where do I come to parsnips from my mother’s soup, you might ask? Why, in the soup itself. The soup was begun early in the day, with Mom pulling out the largest stockpot in the house and filling it two-thirds full with water. First, she’d tie up a whole bunch of fresh dill with twine (or, in a pinch, white sewing thread) and toss it in; then she’d add whole vegetables: one peeled onion; three peeled carrots; three stalks of celery; and a huge, peeled parsnip. These were followed by hunks of chicken which simmered through most of the day, the flesh turning from pink to white to gray as it rose to the top of the pot, bobbing like the remnants of an airline catastrophe on the ocean, the heavy scent of chicken grease permeating the house.
Needless to say, I did not enjoy my mother’s chicken soup.
Of course, in those days, I had no idea that the seemingly anemic carrot my mother used was called “parsnip”; I thought it was actually named “pietroshkeh” (pee-ET-rosh-keh), which is what my parents both called it. (I also believed that the main character of my first children’s book–a tome I proudly read aloud, using my new skill of sounding out each and every letter–was called “Murse Rabbit,” until I was about 10. It was then that The Nurse informed me “Mrs” was actually an abbreviation for “Missus.” The humiliation!).
I still don’t know whether pietroshkeh is the Polish word (from my dad’s childhood in Poland) or the Russian word (from my mother’s ancestors), but I carried it with me until my late 20s, when someone served roasted parsnips to me at a holiday dinner and I asked what they were. Imagine my surprise when I realized I’d already been eating them–and hating them–my whole life!
Luckily, I adored the roots in their roasted form. Unlike the mushy, over-boiled parsnips of my mother’s soup, these actually tasted good. And they had a subtle sweetness about them, the outsides partially caramelized through roasting, flavors mingling with the aromas of rosemary and thyme. They were delicious! Who knew they could be used in other ways besides watery, grey, fatty chicken soup? Thus began a love affair with parnsips, and a quest to afford them their due.
I ate roasted parsnips, parsnips in faux mashed potatoes, or almond-crusted parsnips over the years, but I had never tried a baked good with parsnip. Then, one Saturday at the organic market where I sold muffins and other treats a few years ago, a colleague brought in parsnip loaf. Like a winter-pale version of its tanned carrot cousin, the parsnip loaf offered the same warming spices, slight sweetness and flecks of grated flesh distributed throughout. Indeed, you can substitute carrot here if you prefer, but the parsnip adds its own unique character to the loaf, an understated spiciness and sweet appeal that no other vegetable can provide.
Try these moist, flavorful quick breads, and I bet you’ll end up loving the lowly pietroshkeh, too.
Parsnip Mini Loaves or Muffins, with GF Option
A lovely, intensely flavored muffin for breakfast or an afternoon snack. The fruity flavors of orange and banana meld wonderfully, and the parsnip adds moisture and substance with just a hint of its earthy flavor.
Version I (contains gluten)**:
finely grated zest and juice of one large organic orange (wash before zesting)
1/2 cup (90 g) Sucanat or other unrefined evaporated cane juice
1 medium very ripe banana, mashed or puréed
1 large parsnip (about 9 ounces or 250g), grated on medium blade of your food processor or largest holes on a box grater
1/4 cup (60 ml) sunflower or other light-tasting oil, preferably organic
1-3/4 cups (260 g) light spelt flour
1 Tbsp (15 ml) baking powder
1/4 tsp (1 ml) baking soda
1/4 tsp (1 ml) fine sea salt
2 tsp (10 ml) cinnamon
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) ground nutmeg
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) ground ginger
Preheat oven to 350F (180C). Line 6 mini loaf pans or 9 muffin cups with paper liners, or spray with nonstick spray.
Pour the orange juice into a glass measuring cup and measure out 1/2 cup (120 ml). If your orange didn’t yield at least 1/2 cup (120 ml) liquid, add water to equal that amount.
Place the orange zest and juice in a medium bowl with the Sucanat, banana, parsnip and oil; mix well. Set aside to allow the Sucanat to dissolve somewhat.
In a large bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, nutmeg and ginger. Add the wet ingredients to the dry and stir just to blend (do not overmix!).
Using a large ice cream scoop or 1/3 cup (80 ml) measuring cup, scoop the batter into the prepared pans (they should be quite full). Bake for 30-35 minutes, until a tester inserted in the center loaf or muffin comes out clean. Cool 5 minutes before turning onto a rack to cool completely. May be frozen.
Version II (Gluten Free)**:
finely grated zest of one large organic orange (wash before zesting)
3/4 cup (180 ml) pure orange juice
1/2 cup (90 g) Sucanat or other unrefined evaporated cane juice
1 medium very ripe banana, mashed or puréed
1 large parsnip (about 9 ounces or 250g), grated on medium blade of your food processor or largest holes on a box grater
1 Tbsp (15 ml) finely grated flax seeds
2 tsp (10 ml) finely grated chia seeds
1/4 cup (60 ml) sunflower or other light-tasting oil, preferably organic
1 cup (150 g) All-purpose gluten-free flour (I used Bob’s Red Mill, but you can use your own mix if you prefer)
1/4 cup (30 g) coconut flour
1 Tbsp (15 ml) baking powder
1/4 tsp (1 ml) baking soda
1/4 tsp (1 ml) fine sea salt
2 tsp (10 ml) cinnamon
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) ground nutmeg
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) ground ginger
Preheat oven to 350F (180C). Line 6 mini loaf pans or 9 muffin cups with paper liners, or spray with nonstick spray.
In a medium bowl, place the orange zest, orange juice, Sucanat, banana, parsnip, flax seed, chia seed and oil; mix well, ensuring that the chia is well distributed and doesn’t clump. Set aside to allow the Sucanat to dissolve somewhat.
In a large bowl, sift together the all-purpose flour, coconut flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, nutmeg and ginger. Add the wet ingredients to the dry and stir just to blend (do not overmix!).
Using a large ice cream scoop or 1/3 cup (80 ml) measuring cup, scoop the batter into the prepared pans (they should be quite full). Bake for 30-35 minutes, until a tester inserted in the center loaf or muffin comes out clean. Cool 5 minutes before turning onto a rack to cool completely. May be frozen.
**NOTE: These are NOT ACD-friendly recipes (since they contain banana and Sucanat; some anti-candida diets even prohibit oranges. Sorry, my ACD cronies.)
Last Year at this Time: Herb and Feta “Polenta” Appetizers
Two Years Ago: Turnip and Pear Soup (with apologies to Samuel Beckett)
© 2010 Diet, Dessert and Dogs
* with apologies to Bradley Cooper and Sandra Bullock (though from what I hear about the movie, they should be apologizing to us).
[Stevia-sweetened giant baked apple pancake]
How did it get to be Sunday already, and five days since my last post? Well, I haven’t been lounging around watching soap operas and eating bon-bons, that’s for sure (just watching soap operas–I’m not allowed bon-bons on the ACD, silly!). Actually, my dear friend Sterlin has been visiting from England, and I’ve been spending as much time as possible with her (including a surprise birthday party–with Sterlin as the guest of honor–yesterday evening). And though I cooked up a storm for the party, most of the dishes were tried-and-true Indian fare, many of which I’ve already shared on this blog. I fully intended to try out a few new recipes, but ran out of steam, and time, before the party.
[Dishes I contributed to the party: (clockwise, starting with the rice): broth-cooked basmati; peas in a creamy curry sauce; okra masala; cauliflower and pear curry from Celine and Joni's upcoming cookbook; lentil dal; and creamy eggplant stew in the center (also from the upcoming cookbook).]
So, instead of a new recipe today, I thought I’d address a topic that’s garnered a bit of attention on my blog over the past year or so, both from me and from readers. In fact, over the past month, I’ve received quite a few emails asking me about the ways in which I use stevia (the predominant sweetener allowed on the ACD, along with vegetable glycerin or yacon syrup, which I use only rarely).
For anyone just starting out on the ACD, anyone required to eat low-glycemic or low-carb foods (ie, diabetics, people watching their weight, and so on) or anyone interested in ditching artificial sweeteners, stevia is an all-natural, zero-calorie sweetener that you might like to try.
*Please note: I am not a scientist, a chemist, or an expert on stevia, and this post is not intended as advice for anyone contemplating using the sweetener. I’m writing about my own personal experience with stevia, and this is my own, personal, opinion.
How I Discovered Stevia
In the home of my childhood, sweets and desserts were ubiquitous. My mother was an accomplished from-scratch baker and my father, an immigrant to the country, was accustomed to a big slice of home-made cake after dinner each evening. Consequently, my sisters and I grew not only to expect freshly baked confections in our house at all times, but also to prefer sweets to any other types of foods.
As I grew older and my sweet tooth became more ferocious, I began to leap on every chance to eat something sweet without the caloric consequences. When saccharin first became available in Canada, The Nurse and I concocted a cream-cheese based cherry cheesecake sweetened entirely with Sweet N Low (my mouth still puckers at the thought). Later, I found myself buying Weight Watchers Mousse (containing aspartame) in bulk, as I’d often consume an entire batch (supposedly enough for six people) for dinner. When I lived on my own, I stocked Diet Pepsi as if I were hoarding for the next pandemic, and would often imbibe a liter or two of the stuff almost daily.
Needless to say, my sweets addiction got me into some trouble, not once, but twice. About a year ago, I found myself afflicted once again (the previous time had been 10 years prior) with a raging case of systemic candida. The only solution? A strict, relatively restrictive diet and herbal (and, in my case, prescription) anti-fungal medications.
When I was in nutrition school, there was a lot of buzz about a “new” herbal sweetener called stevia. I must admit, I was a bit wary at first (perhaps it was my Pavlovian response to any sweetener that came in little blue packets), but I’ve come to appreciate and even love the mighty sweetleaf. And this time round, it’s certainly allowed me to placate a persistent sweet tooth even while adhering to the diet that will eventually restore my overall health and digestive balance.
What is Stevia?
While the Stevia rebaudiana plant (a leafy shrub) is native to Brazil and Paraguay, it’s actually been grown here in Ontario since 1987, which may explain why Canadians are more familiar with the sweetener than Americans (it’s been designated as GRAS–generally recognized as safe–only since 2008 in the US). Still, stevia is considered an herbal supplement in Canada, so you won’t find it on supermarket shelves next to the Equal; instead, it’s available at health food stores. It’s also the most popular sweetener in Japan, where they’ve been using it to replace artificial sweeteners since 1971.
When the stevia leaves are dried and the liquids extracted, the compounds acquired (called stevioside and rebaudioside) give stevia its sweetness (at about 250-300 times sweeter than sugar). The compounds can be dried into powder or used in liquid form; either way, they are usually augmented with fillers, since the pure extract is so sweet the amounts used would be infinitesmal. Liquids usually have food-grade alcohol (such as they use with vanilla extract) or glycerin (for a non-alcohol version) added. Just a few drops of the liquid offers sweetness equal to 1-2 tsp (5-10 ml) of sugar. (The powder is premixed with dry bulking agents such as cellulose, dextrose, or maltodextrin so that one packet equals about 1 tsp/5 ml of sugar). You can also consume the fresh leaves, which are about 30-45 times sweeter than sugar. [information from here].
Are There Problems Associated with Stevia?
If you’re concerned about possible side effects or health risks, you should know that there have been some studies that indicated genetic mutations in animals who ingested large amounts of the herb. However, these studies haven’t been replicated on humans. Additionally, stevia has been used for hundreds of years in its countries of origin, as well as longterm in Japan (where it’s the number one sweetener, before sugar).
Because it’s derived from a plant and undergoes very little processing, I would much prefer to use stevia than any of the artificial, chemical-based, sweeteners such as Equal or Splenda (and I take issue with those who refer to stevia as “another artificial sweetener”; to my mind, that’s a misnomer). Like saccharin or aspartame, stevia adds zero calories to your food; it tastes very sweet; and it doesn’t affect blood sugar levels.
The difference between stevia and sucralose or sodium cyclamate, however, is that stevia exists as-is in nature, and doesn’t require laboratory procedures to be made sweet. In fact, I’m a little leery of some of the new products like PureVia or Truvia (and please note that I’ve never tried either one of them) that extract only the rebaudioside A only (it’s one of the factors that makes stevia sweet) so they can manufacture sweeteners from it. Why not continue to use the whole plant (you can steep the leaves like tea leaves) or the natural, whole extract from the whole leaves, as people have done for centuries? For my part, I’ll use only products labeled as whole “stevia,” containing that one ingredient only, rather than those with trademarked names that are not “stevia.”
[Blended Breakfast Cereal, stevia-sweetened.]
Where is Stevia Best Used?
I tend to prefer using stevia in foods that are naturally sweet to begin with or recipes that require very little sugar (1/4 cup or less), as well as recipes in which the texture isn’t changed (much) by the addition of sugar. For instance, my favorite use is in my morning smoothie or bowl of oatmeal. It’s also great as a sweetener in salad dressings, puddings, pancakes and pie fillings, since they don’t rely as much on sugar to produce a particular texture.
The greatest challenge with stevia, I think, is using it in baking, because its intense sweetness (up to 300 times sweeter than sugar) permits only a minute amount to be added to batters or dough. When you substitute 10 drops (or 1/4 teaspoon powder) for 1 cup of sugar, you alter the dry-to-wet ratio in your baked good, as well as the chemical reaction that takes place with baking. As a result, I’ve had to experiment quite a bit with my stevia-sweetened baked goods. Keep that in mind if you try stevia as a sugar replacement. (There are also one-for-one stevia-based sweeteners on the market that allow you to measure one cup of the mixture for one cup of sugar, but these always contain bulking agents. While they produce a good product, my digestive system hasn’t taken kindly to the added ingredients, so I avoid them.).
[Lemon-Blueberry Muffins, sweetened with stevia.]
If you do use stevia in baked goods, remember that you’ll need to compensate for the loss of sugar as a binding agent (due to caramelization when it’s baked). Instead, try using nut or seed butters, or fruit purées in place of some of the sugar, as I do in this recipe. You can find other stevia-based desserts like cookies, puddings and cupcakes with frosting (plus some savory dishes as well) in my ebook, Anti-Candida Feast.
My Favorite Brands of Stevia
Until this year, the only brand of stevia I used was NOW Foods’ brand, as it was the one most readily available here. I prefer the liquid (some people have noted a slight bitterness or aftertaste with the powder; I’ve never found this to be the case with the liquid).
Recently, however, I’ve had the opporunity to try out a few other brands, as well, such as Stevia in the Raw (powder, extract of whole stevia), which I won in a blog giveaway; NuNaturals (vanilla and unflavored liquid) and Stevita chocolate flavor (both of which I received as samples for review on this blog).
Granted, this isn’t a representative sample of all the brands out there, and I’m always scouring the local health food store for other brands. While I loved the NuNaturals and Stevita brands, I did notice that they require a bit more volume than the NOW brand to achieve the same sweetening power (so if I need only 5 drops of NOW stevia to sweeten my bowl of oatmeal, I need up to 10 of the others for the same degree of sweetness). I haven’t detected any bitter aftertaste in any of these brands, though, so perhaps I’m just one of those lucky people with a genetic quirk of the tastebuds that doesn’t register that particular type of bitterness (then again, I also adore brussels sprouts).
Is there anything else you’d like to know about the ACD, my diet, recipes on the blog or any of the ingredients I use? I plan to post more informational blog entries like this one on occasion, in which I answer readers’ questions or address comments related to the diet. So let me know what you’d like me to cover!
“Mum, I know there have been some tests on animals, but dogs can enjoy stevia too, can’t they? Because, you know, we don’t want to give up taste-testing those Carob-Coconut Sweeties you make.”
Other Stevia-sweetened goodies:
(For more stevia-sweetened desserts, see the Recipe Index or this post).
Last Year at this Time: Chinese Scallion Pancakes
Two Years Ago: Sweet Potato Pancakes (not latkes)
© 2010 Diet, Dessert and Dogs
Dogs really are creatures of habit, aren’t they? I mean, every morning at precisely 7:02 AM (about 1-1/2 minutes after the HH slams off his alarm), Chaser bounds into our bedroom and lays a wet sloppy one on the HH’s ear (translation: “Dad, it’s time to get up! Get up, Dad, we need to go for our walk! C’mon, Dad! Let’s go! Just hop outa bed and take us! C’mon, what are you waiting for? C’mon—” etc.).
Then, at precisesly 1:15 PM every afternoon, Elsie saunters over to my desk and plants herself at my side, glaring (and if you’ve ever seen a Border Collie stare, you know the power of “the eye.”). If I continue to focus on the computer screen and tap away at the keyboard, she will tentatively and ever-so-gently poke me on the thigh with her moist, cold nose (more startling in summer when I’m wearing shorts, to be sure). Translation: “Mum, I feel I must inform you that the hour has arrived for our afternoon walk. Seriously, Mum, it appals me that you could forget this important hour of the day. After all, do we not go for a stroll each and every day of the week at this time? And are we not reliant upon you to take us? Now, please, offer us the courtesy of rising up from your chair and coming downstairs so that we may embark–right now.”
Yep, like I said, creatures of habit. Later, at precisely 4:53 PM every day, both Girls heave themselves off their respective pillows to pad into the office and station themselves on either side of me as I work, staring intently in a silent summons like bookmarked lawn gnomes. Translation: “Mum, it’s almost dinner time. Where the &%$!@ is our food?” (Okay, perhaps they weren’t as profane as that. But it’s always fun to imagine dogs cursing, isn’t it?).
Given that I was born in the Year of the Dog myself, it makes sense that I, too, am a creature of habit. Or, at least, I used to be. Before I met the HH.
Like South Park’s stance with Canada, I tend to blame the HH for my current shortcomings. Long before we met, in my twenties (also known as the Decade of Firsts, in which I first went to university, first lived on my own, and first met not one, but two true loves), I was incredibly organized and even followed an hour-by-hour schedule every day, permitting me to live through an entire university career without ever missing a deadline. Subsequently, during the Decade of the Dinner Party, I still managed a schedule jam-packed with socializing, full-time work, sewing my own clothes (!), and regular trips to and from Montreal.
Enter my 40s and the HH: not only did I meet my true love, but my lasting love. It was around that time–when the HH and I first moved in together–that chaos erupted. Okay, not chaos, exactly, but certainly the reorganizing of closets. And–even while continuing to throw dinner parties–going to bed without washing all the dishes first (gasp!). And being open to unplanned activities. And (and here’s where I blame the HH) the eschewing rigid schedules.
Well, despite his disdain for pre-planning or scheduling, the HH is his own uniquely habitual creature. Unlike me, he eats the same breakfast every day* (I prefer to rotate through 25 or so different options). The HH takes the dogs to the same park every morning (I switch it up between the park, the baseball field, the Mill Pond, and trail). The HH can listen to the same symphony over and over, sometimes for hours (I rarely listen to the same CD twice in a row–unless it’s a new, incredibly talented singer that I adore, of course).
Which brings me to today’s recipe (finally!). As you may recall, the HH and I used to keep a weekly date every Tuesday, wherein I’d meet him for a sushi lunch. But since the anti-candida regime I follow doesn’t permit sushi (no white rice, no vinegar, no sugar, blah blah blah), I’ve had to forgo our midday shared meal. Do I miss that sushi? You bet! (Well, and yes, I do also miss meeting the HH for lunch every week. . . but really, we do see each other every evening for dinner, and when we walk the dogs, and when we watch 30 Rock, and when we have brunch on Sundays, and when we tidy the house together before friends come over, and when we run errands on Saturdays, and when we. . . geez, maybe we’re overdoing this togetherness thing a bit, anyway).
I decided I’d whip up my favorite at-home sushi for lunch on my own. Since the original version wasn’t exactly ACD-friendly, I adapted; instead of the orignal sundried tomatoes (which are taboo on the ACD), I made my own semi-dried oven baked tomatoes. (Who says I can’t be flexible? No rigid recipes for this doglike gal!). Well, it worked beautifully. The rolls are (mostly) raw, grain-free, and reminiscent of salmon (in my memory, anyway). All I can say is, “domo arigato!” And it sure did feel great to get back to that old sushi habit, even if I shared it with The Girls instead of the HH.
“We enjoyed it, too, Mum. Thanks for sharing. But, um, didn’t I hear you say something about salmon?”
* A bowl of Raisin Bran with milk, if you’d like to know.
Raw Nori Rolls with “Salmon” Filling and Spicy Ginger-Miso Paste
adapted from a recipe from Enlightened Eating (spiralbound edition)
A great recipe for those avoiding grains or anyone seeking a delicious variation on sushi. If you’re not following an anti-candida regime, go ahead and make the original. The Miso paste can be enjoyed by anyone.
Nori Rolls:
3/4 cup (135 g) raw almonds with skin
1 pint (about 500 ml) ripe grape tomatoes
2 tsp (10 ml) light miso
1 Tbsp (15 ml) freshly squeezed lemon juice
2 tsp (10 ml) Bragg’s liquid aminos, tamari or soy sauce
freshly ground black pepper, to taste
cut vegetables for filling: zucchini, cucumber, carrots, avocado, daikon, green onion, etc.
2 sheets nori (sushi wrappers)
Spicy Ginger-Miso Paste:
1 Tbsp (15 ml) white miso
1/8-1/4 tsp (.5-1 ml) cayenne pepper, depending on desired heat
1 tsp (5 ml) toasted sesame oil
2 tsp (10 ml) finely grated fresh ginger
1 tsp (5 ml) freshly squeezed lemon juice
For the nori rolls:
Prepare the “Salmon” filling: Soak almonds in room temperature water for 8-12 hours. If you soak them longer, refresh the water after 12 hours and store in refrigerator for up to one more day. Drain and rinse before using.
Meanwhile, prepare the tomatoes: preheat oven to 300F/150C (or, for a completely raw dish, heat to 115F/45C or use a dehydrator). Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper, or grease with extra virgin olive oil. Cut each tomato in half and place cut side up on the baking sheet. Bake in preheated oven 1-2 hours, checking every 20 minutes after the one-hour mark, until tomatoes exude most of their juice and begin to shrivel and brown slightly. (If using a dehydrator, dehydrate until shrivelled).
Place drained almonds, tomatoes, 2 tsp (10 ml) miso, 1 Tbsp (15 ml) lemon juice, Bragg’s and black pepper in the bowl of a food processor and process until almost smooth. Set aside.
Prepare the Paste: in a small bowl, mix together all ingredients with a spoon until well combined and smooth.
Assemble the rolls: Spread about half of the miso-ginger paste over the nori sheet, spreading to the edge on 3 sides, leaving about 1/2 inch (2.5 cm) empty on one edge. Top with about half the salmon spread. Place 3-4 rows of desired vegetables along the edge opposite the empty edge, like so:
Next, use a sushi mat or just your hands, roll tightly starting at the edge with the cut vegetables. When you reach the empty stripe at the end of the nori sheet, moisten it with a bit of water and then roll up, leaving the seam down (against the table). Cut into 5-8 pieces. Repeat with second nori sheet. Makes 2 servings.
Totally unrelated note: One of today’s Google searches leading to my blog read, “Die Dessert Dogs.” Is that a typo, or just a really ticked off blog reader?
Last Year at this Time: The Biscuit and the Scramble (to Woo Your Rake)
Two Years Ago: Sweet Potato and Chocolate Chip Mini (or not) Muffins
© 2010 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).]
So I seem to be on a bit of a beet kick these days. Which is nice, since so many people tend to knock beets.
Well, whether it’s a kick or a knock, those poor battered beets are getting a raw deal. And I guess I won’t be helping the situation today, as I’ve made a raw beet salad.
With my recent vow to increase raw foods in my diet–and with the new year upon us practically commanding us to “Detox!”–this salad really fit the bill. Besides being incredibly quick and tasty, it’s a natural means to detoxify the blood and tone the liver. It also took barely five minutes to make (and probably less to polish off).
The minimalist dressing is both light and refreshing, containing but lemon juice, olive oil, and ginger–that’s it! It provides a zesty contrast to the crunchy sweetness of the beets. The cucumber serves up a lovely, juicy crunch of its own, while the sunflower seeds offer protein and yet a different type of crunch. (The beets will color everything a vibrant crimson, but no matter; the cucumber and seeds will retain their individuality on the palate).
Next time you want to give beets a big hug, go ahead and make this salad. (And then go wash all those pink stains off your midsection.)
Gingery Beet Salad
adapted from The Raw Gourmet by Nomi Shannon
A perfect light lunch, this refreshing salad will perk up your insides and delight your taste buds!
1 large beet, trimmed, peeled and washed
1/2 large cucumber (seedless is best, but any will work), cut into small chunks or matchsticks
1/4 cup (60 ml) lightly toasted sunflower seeds
1 tsp (5 ml) freshly grated ginger, or more, to taste
juice of 1/2 lemon (about 2 Tbsp/30 ml)
1 Tbsp (15 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
1 Tbsp (15 ml) Braggs liquid aminos or soy sauce
5-10 drops unflavored Stevia liquid (I like NuNaturals) or 1 Tbsp (15 ml) agave nectar or maple syrup, to taste
pinch fine sea salt
Grate the beet on the “medium” blade of your food processor, or using a box grater and place in a medium-sized bowl. Add the cucumber and seeds.
In a small bowl, whisk together the ginger, lemon juice, olive oil, Braggs, stevia and sea salt. Pour over beet mixture, toss to coat well, and enjoy. Makes 2 servings. Will keep, tightly covered, for 2 days in the refrigerator.
Last Year at this Time: Sautéed Greens with Onions and Apples
Two Years Ago: Egg-Free Quiche with Millet Crust
© 2010 Diet, Dessert and Dogs
* Or, It’s Worth Staying Up Until 1:00 AM for Susan V’s Recipe
[Smooth, Creamy Creole bliss in a casserole. With pasta. ]
When’s the last time you stayed up past midnight? (Oh. Right–forgot. Discounting New Year’s Eve, that is).
Back when I was a freshman at university, I worked at “The Round Table,” the after-hours pub and grill on campus (ironically, serving hamburgers!). I’d sling hash deal with drunken patrons waitress until 1:30 AM when the joint closed for the night, scrub the grill and counters, and count up the night’s earnings until about 3:00 AM, then head back to the dorm and wake up in time for an 8:30 AM class (to which I arrived, despite all odds, washed and neatly dressed–with matching socks, even!–and awake).
Later on, after the HH and I met during my late 30s (also known as the Decade of the Dinner Party), seems it was de rigeur to party till the wee hours of the morning. I’d primp and preen for a Saturday night date, donning my favorite black sequined tank top, mini skirt and leather boots, before the HH and I spent a romantic evening shifting from dinner at Squirrely’s (the HH’s idea of romantic in those days) to drinks and jazz at the Orbit Room, to a nightcap at Fran’s before finally calling it a night somewhere around 3:30 AM (luckily, I didn’t have a class to get to the next morning).
Well, almost thirteen years later, those party days have long since vanished (as has that mini skirt–though I think the tank top is still kicking around in the back of my closet somewhere).
Nowadays, a typical Saturday night at the DDD household tends to go more like this: Feed Dogs. Walk Dogs. Prepare dinner (the HH acts as sous-chef to Ricki’s chef; Ricki barks orders while the HH chops celery, carrots, onion, and so on). Eat dinner. Remind dogs to go lie down while humans eat. Retire to TV room. Humans flop on chairs and watch DVD du jour, while The Girls stretch out on carpet, enthusiastically chomping on Nylabones. Wash up and go to sleep. Time check: 10:47 PM.
(“Mum, any night when our pack is all together sounds like a good night to me, wherever we are. But, um, shouldn’t we be the ones barking orders?”)
This past Saturday, however, we revisited those long-ago evenings of our wayward youth (or, at least, our wayward youth’s bedtime). No, it wasn’t an erstwhile “date night.” For some reason, scheduled events kept getting deferred until we found ourselves cooking dinner at 8:30 PM, chopping celery side by side at the counter (the HH’s current idea of romantic). We didn’t even begin eating until 9:00-ish and hadn’t cleaned up until around 10:30. Consequently, we ended up in front of the TV until after midnight, finally getting to sleep after 1:00 AM.
Let me tell you, staying up late isn’t what it used to be (as those of you with kids undoubtedly know, the little ones–in our case, The Girls–don’t recognize changes in schedule and are right there, wet nose on earlobe, at the usual time–ie, 6:55 AM). And while I really enjoyed the movie (500 Days of Summer, which amused even the HH), it was really the dinner that made those extra bags under my eyes Sunday morning seem worth it.
[Smooth, Creamy Creole bliss ladled over cooked rice pasta.]
I’d been seeking a use for a lone eggplant hiding out at the back of the fridge, and assumed I’d make my usual baba ganoush or perhaps eggplant “parmesan” with it. In the decade before the Decade of the Dinner Party (more like the Decade of the Dorm party), eggplant parm had been one of my staple dishes, the breaded rounds of eggplant afloat with grease and excessively oozing, melted cheeses. And while I loved it back then, I have to agree with Andrea’s assessment of her recent takeout pizza: all that cheese would sort of make me feel a bit ill today.
(“Mum, it’s understandable that you’d prefer more veggies on your ACD. But we’d be happy to take any extra cheese off your paws hands.”)
Well, sometimes life offers you the perfect confluence of ingredients, peckishness and a winning recipe. As it turned out, I’d just read Susan V’s blog post about Creamy Creole Eggplant Casserole, and was intrigued. And, as sometimes happens in the life of a food blogger, I chose to ignore the other 483 recipes already in my “Recipes to Try” folder and leapt at the most recent one in my Google Reader. Susan’s was the very first food blog from which I made a recipe (I believe it was this one), and I’ve had success with every recipe of hers I’ve ever tried. And even though I’d never eaten a Creole dish before, I just knew I’d love this.
With modifications, of course. Because of the infernal ACD, I knew I’d have to adapt the recipe somewhat–no mushrooms and no nutritional yeast, for a start. And I only had one eggplant, not two. And I can’t eat breadcrumbs. Oh, and we’d agreed on pasta for dinner. I decided to use the base as a pasta sauce, and halve the recipe, but retain the spice measurements and sauce mixture as they were (we like highly spiced food, and pasta needs a saucy sauce). Was I even still making the same recipe? No matter–those Creole seasonings were calling to me.
Well, I miscalculated how long it would take to bake an eggplant, which is why we ended up eating so late. But let me tell you, it was worth it! And if you think ahead just a wee bit more than I did and pre-bake your eggplant before starting the dish, you can have dinner on the table in 30 minutes or about an hour, depending on which version you use.
[The 30-Minute Version: Creamy Sauce atop just-cooked pasta.]
The pasta was delectable (“This one is a winner,” the HH enthused, meaning “You should make this again”). Yesterday evening, however, the dish made the leap from ”yummy” to “spectacular” on the hierarchy of food descriptors. I had decided to blend the remaining pasta with the remaining sauce and bake the whole thing in a casserole, much as Susan baked hers. The pasta absorbed a bit of the moisture in the sauce and the mixture was rendered even more thick and creamy, highlighting the hunks of eggplant and pepper along with the beans in the mix (I used navy beans, as we were out of chickpeas).
The casserole is creamy, it’s velvety, it’s meaty, and just a bit spicy. The blend of herbs and cayenne work beautifully together to create an aromatic yet assertive sauce perfectly balanced by the mild, chewy pasta, somewhat like a slightly wealthier, slightly more sophisticated cousin of traditional Mac and Cheese. The perfect accompaniment for a Saturday night at home with the family.
Creamy Creole Eggplant Pasta Bake
liberally adapted from Fat Free Vegan’s recipe
[The one-hour version, fresh from the oven.]
For a quick, delicious meal, whip up the sauce base and ladle it over some cooked pasta. If you’ve got more time, go for the baked casserole version–a fantastic, warming dinner for any night of the week.
1 medium eggplant
2 Tbsp (30 ml) extra virgin olive oil or coconut oil, preferably organic
1 medium onion, chopped
1 small green or red pepper, chopped
1 rib celery, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 medium zucchini, quartered lengthwise and then cut into chunks
2 Tbsp (30 ml) chopped fresh parsley
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) dried thyme
1/4 tsp (1 ml) cayenne pepper, or more to taste
1 tsp (5 ml) smoked paprika
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) freshly ground black pepper
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) onion or garlic powder
3/4 tsp (7.5 ml) fine sea salt
1 tsp (5 ml) dried basil
1 tsp (5 ml) dried oregano
1 cup (120 ml) cooked chickpeas (about 1/2 cup dry)
6 ounces (190 g) firm silken tofu (I used Mori-Nu–this is 1/2 package)
heaping 1/4 cup (40 g) raw cashews
1 Tbsp (15 ml) light miso
1/2 cup (120 ml) unsweetened soymilk
1/4 cup (about 35g) pine nuts or almonds, raw or lightly toasted, ground to coarse crumbs
Enough dry pasta for 6 servings (I used 3 cups/720 ml of dry rice elbow macaroni)
Preheat oven to 425F ( C). Line a baking sheet with parchment. Prick the eggplant with a fork or tip of a knife several times and place on a baking sheet that has been lined with parchment paper. Bake until the eggplant is very soft, 30-40 minutes. Allow to cool, cut open, and then scoop out the flesh. Cut the flesh into bite-sized chunks and set aside.
Once the eggplant is cooked and is cooling, put the water up to boil for the pasta. Cook until just al dente (time will vary, depending on the type of pasta you use; I used rice pasta and cooked it for 8 minutes). Drain, rinse with cold water and set aside. (This step will likely occur while you are still mixing the rest of the sauce; just leave the cooked pasta aside until you need it).
Make the sauce while the pasta boils: In a large frypan, heat the oil over medium heat and add the onion, pepper and celery. Cook until the onion is translucent, 8-10 minutes. Add the garlic and zucchini and continue to cook another 5 minutes or so, until the zucchini begins to emit its juice. Add the eggplant (remember to cut it up before adding), parsley, thyme, cayenne, paprika, black pepper, onion powder, salt, basil and oregano and cook for another minute or so before gently adding the chickpeas. Turn heat to low, cover, and continue to cook, stirring occasionally, until the rest of the sauce is ready.
In a high speed blender, combine the tofu, cashews, miso and soymilk. Blend until perfectly smooth. Pour the mixture into the pot with the rest of the sauce, and stir to coat all the veggies and incorporate the eggplant.
For quick pasta: Ladle the warm sauce over the pasta on a plate and sprinkle with ground nuts.
For the Casserole: Turn the pasta into the pot as well, and stir to coat everything. Pour the pasta mixture into the greased casserole dish and sprinkle with the nuts. Bake in preheated oven for 25-30 minutes, until the top begins to brown. Scoop out onto serving plates, garnished with more chopped fresh parsley, if desired. Makes 6 servings. May be frozen.
Last Year at this Time: Flash in the Pan: Sautéed Greens with Onions and Apples
Two Years Ago: Smooth Operator (Mystery Smoothie)
© 2010 Diet, Dessert and Dogs
So. Are we sick of giveaways yet? 
Okay, I guess that the chance to win something you like–especially if it involves food you like–never becomes stale (even if the aforementioned foodstuff does). Still, with 2010 barely upon us, I’ve decided it’s time to give the giveaways a break. I love being able to supply freebies to my readers, especially when it involves foods I already like–but I don’t want the whole ”leaveacommentclickheretweetmeFBmeRTmewhydoyouwantthisprizenowpickacommentatrandom” thing to become stale. So, for now I think, it’s time to get back to the core of this (or any food-related) blog: the food!
I must admit that 2009 was a strange year for me, food-wise. Like the wallflower at the prom or Brad’s ghost in his old living room, all I could do was watch from afar (or, actually, aclose) while others indulged in some of my favorite comestibles, from chocolate to wine (ah, Shiraz, how I miss thee!), to portobellos, to peanut butter, to champagne on New Year’s (ah, Segura Viudas, how I really miss thee!). Much of this blog before last March focused on just those ingredients.
And with there being no clear end-point to the whole ACD saga, I’ve decided to proceed as if I will be on the diet indefinitely. (Audible gasps! Sounds of tsk-tsks and sympathetic clucking! Tears of pity from compassionate readers!). In the end, I think it’s better this way.
When I began this anti-candida quest, I assumed it would be for only a few weeks. The universe, clearly, had other ideas. In a way, I am grateful: as long as I’m on this diet, I’m no longer overeating, I no longer binge on chocolate, and I no longer worry about my weight. (Seriously. The current tally is 43 pounds and holding steady; two more pounds lost, and I’ll be at my initial goal weight.) I know from my response to the recent chocolate truffles I concocted–in and of themselves, perfectly acceptable, totally innocuous and stevia-sweetened–that I still have not gained control over my sweets addiction, so I’m embracing any excuse to stay away from sweeteners that spike blood sugar (even if they’re all-natural, like maple syrup or Sucanat).
And in keeping with my lighter diet, I’ve decided that 2010 will be the year to lighten up. To wit:
1) Lighten Up My Weight. Although I’ve now almost reached my goal weight, a quick calculation of my BMI places my goal weight barely within the “normal” range for such things (at 23.7). Since I’m fairly small-boned, I’d prefer to settle smack-dab in the middle range, at around 22. This would necessitate another 10 pound loss. And while I’m still not willing to count points, count calories, count carbs or follow any other type of “diet” (after all, I want to be able to follow an eating plan that I can maintain for the rest of my life), I do plan to focus a bit more on raw foods, fruit and vegetables, and a bit less on fat in my diet for a while to see what happens.
2) Lighten Up This Blog. Not to imply that I’ve been moribund or anything in this space, but I do feel as if the initially carefree, slightly irreverent posts of yore have been lacking lately. Maybe it’s my SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) or remnants of the SAD (Standard American Diet) in general. Or maybe I’ve just been sad about the lingering candida. Whatever the case, it seems that humor wandered off a while ago, and must be enticed to return. And so, like Norman Cousins in his hospital bed, I’m vowoing to bring more laughter into my life. As my old high school chum John used to tell me, Don’t take take life seriously–after all, you’ll never get out alive.
Of course, illness is serious business, and I’m not suggesting that anyone be irresponsible (not a grain of sugar shall pass through my lips!)–but I’d like to learn to relax more and perhaps deal with stress and worry a bit more effectively. It makes sense that more laughter and less stress can only be a good thing, especially when study after study has demonstrated that stress itself contributes to disease. And if I haven’t earned a little whimsy at my age, when will I?
So, from now on, I resolve to enjoy more of what makes me smile: time with the HH and The Girls, my friends and family. Watching dopey movies. Going to places I haven’t been before (I think I hear the antipodes calling). Reading books that make me think, and books that make me envy the writer’s craft. Writing more. Moving my body more. Dancing to old records (Culture Club, anyone?). Experimenting in the kitchen more (no, no, with food, silly!). Blogging more.
No more fretting over insignificant events for me! I mean, will the world end if the HH doesn’t mow the lawn when he says he will (or even within a week of when he says he will)? So what if our lawn resembles the “before” picture in Field of Dreams? The Girls surely won’t mind, as they enjoy gamboling and frolicking in tall grasses. Will my students evaporate if they don’t get their papers back within 3 days? (And at least I’ve never been as tardy as my former prof, Dr. E, who sometimes took six weeks to return essays to us–and when he did, they sported a single comment, sometimes only one word, at the top of the page: “Splendid!” or “Well done!” beside a letter grade. That averages out to approximately one word a day.) Similarly, will the universe implode if I’m stuck in traffic and can’t meet my friend Gemini I for lunch at precisely 12:15 PM, as agreed? Of course not (although traffic does sometimes feel like a black hole).
Wow. I feel lighter already.
3) Lighten Up Your Sweets. A more immediate way to lighten up is with this dessert. Does anyone out there remember Jello 1-2-3? Well, this mousse-like concoction reminds me of the top layer of that treat: exceptionally light and airy, yet sweet, rich, and fruity (even though it doesn’t contain any fruit to speak of, as you’ll see below). The color is vibrant and happy–light-hearted, even–and the flavor is a tantalizing combination of coconut, almond and vanilla, with an enigmatic source of sweetness blended in.
Like so many recipes on food blogs this time of year, this one possesses detoxifying properties as well, since one of its main ingredients is cooked beets (there–I’ve said it. But it doesn’t taste like beets, I promise!). Besides adding that brilliant fuchsia color and a mysterious sweetness to the dessert, beets are also great blood detoxifiers and liver toners. In addition, they’re a good source of fiber, contain cancer-fighting antioxidants, and help reduce inflammation in the body. What other dessert can boast such benefits?
So when you serve this mousse to your friends and family, don’t tell them the secret ingredient. Instead, just present them with a beautiful, fluffy, pillowy dessert. Then you can smile knowingly as you watch them gobble it up. And if they do balk at beets in a confection, well, just tell them to lighten up a little.
Crimson Mousse
Boiling the beets helps to remove any trace of earthy flavor here; what remains is a vague sweetness and stunning hue. I’ve tried baking the beets instead, and while the color becomes even more intense in that case, so does the “beety” flavor; I wouldn’t advise it.
1 medium beet, peeled, diced and boiled until very soft (at least 30 minutes)
1/3 cup (55 g) raw cashews
1 cup (240 ml) full fat coconut milk
2 Tbsp (30 ml) whole chia seeds, measured first and then ground in a coffee grinder to a fine powder
1/4 tsp (1 ml) pure almond extract
1/4 tsp (1 ml) coconut extract (optional)
1 tsp (5 ml) pure vanilla extract
15-25 drops stevia liquid, to taste (will depend on the brand)**
1 Tbsp (15 ml) freshly squeezed lime juice
pinch fine sea salt
Once the beets are soft, drain them well (you can reserve the liquid for soup or other uses). Place the drained beets and remaining ingredients in a high speed blender* and blend until perfectly smooth, pushing the mousse down into the blades occasionally as necessary. Turn the mixture into a bowl, cover and refrigerate at least 4 hours or overnight (refrigerating allows the cashews to absorb some of the liquid and the mousse to thicken). Spoon or pipe into serving dishes and top with coconut whipped cream, if desired. Makes 4 small or 3 large servings.
* I used a VitaMix, but I’m sure this would work in a regular blender, too, if you have patience. In a conventional blender, I’d do it this way: pour coconut milk and all other ingredients except beets and chia into the blender and blend until the mixture is smooth. Add beets and blend again until perfectly smooth; then add the chia and blend to combine. You may need to blend in smaller batches this way, and then stir the contents together in a bowl before refrigerating.
** You can use agave or maple syrup if you prefer, but make these changes: use 1/4 cup agave or maple syrup, remove about 2 Tbsp (30 ml) of the coconut milk and increase cashews to 1/3 cup plus 2 Tbsp (70 g) before blending.
Last Year at this Time: Sweet Potato Smoothie
Two Years Ago: Fig Bread and Restorative Soup
© 2010 Diet, Dessert and Dogs
Thanks to everyone–all 104 of you!–who entered the Chocolate Baking Kit and Bar giveaway!
As promised, I chose two random winners, one for the kit (from Canada) and one for the bar (from anywhere) by using Random.org–the first name to appear from my Home and Native Land won the kit, and the next name won the bar.
Winner Number One:
Anne Taylor (comment number 68)–you are the lucky winner of the Baking Kit! Here’s what Anne wrote:
My favourite use for Cocoa is making a homemade chocolate cake pudding! Omgosh its delicious! Also, I enjoy eating all kinds of chocolate!
Winner Number Two:
Shannon from Tri to Cook (comment number 57)–you won your choice of chocolate! Here’s what Shannon wrote:
my favorite thing to do with chocolate is pair it with nut butter in baking or just as dessert! i’m intrigued by the matcha bar, as I have been meaning to play with a little matcha i picked up…
Congratulations, Ladies! Would you please email me at dietdessertdogs AT gmail DOT com with your mailing address so that I can get your prizes out to you asap?
I’ll be back later today with food–and food for thought.
I hope everyone had a rockin’* New Year’s Eve on Thursday night. The HH and I enjoyed a very relaxed, casual dinner at our place with my friend the Nutritionista and her husband (more Indian food, Caesar salad, and bubbly: the boys drank champagne; the gals had sparkling water and cranberry juice). Many thanks to you all for your lovely new year’s wishes! There’s no doubt that 2009 was made better for me because of all of you. 
I’ve been doing some ruminating** about the year to come and, as usual, wrote up my 5-year plan (and will share some of the outcomes with y’all–a bit later). But for now, it’s time for that marble cake post I promised!
Although Chiffon Cake was her specialty, for special occasions (or if she just didn’t have enough eggs in the house), my mom would bake her favorite marble cake. It was a light, single layer in a square pan with a visible marbling pattern on top and running through each of the slices. Though I ate my fair share of the cake, I always wondered, why is she spoiling a great chocolate cake with so much vanilla?
Okay, I’ll concede that the dual flavors do render the cake prettier than an all-chocolate, monochromatic brown, what with those deep golden swirls intermingling throughout with the chocolate. Apart from the aesthetic appeal, though, I could never understand why someone would choose to eat a slice of cake that’s half vanilla when they could have one that was entirely chocolate. Just me, I guess.
As I got older, I learned that, in the world of favorite flavors, you’re either a chocolate person or a vanilla person. Sure, you can claim to like both, but when it comes right down to it, most people favor one over the other. Take my cousin Marketing Guru (MG), for instance. When my sisters and I were kids, we’d spend a few weeks every summer visiting my Boston cousins. One of the highlights was the drive along Route 9 to Friendly’s ice cream parlour (particularly exciting, since Friendly’s doesn’t exist in Canada), where we’d eye the mind-boggling array of flavors on the chalk board. Inevitably, the scene went something like this:
Server [leaning over the counter to see our six year-old faces]: Hi, there, kids, what can I get you today?
Ricki: What flavors do you have?
Server [reading the board]: Okay, well, let’s see; today we’ve got vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, butter crunch, purely pistachio, cookies ‘n cream, Vienna Mocha Chunk, fudge swirl, peanut butter chocolate cup, mint chocolate chip, cherry cheesecake, maple walnut, chocolate chip cookie dough, chocolate almond chip, Neopolitan, orange mango smoothie, butter pecan, cherry vanilla, black raspberry, coffee, peppermint stick and Royal Banana Split Sundae.
MG: I’ll have vanilla.
Ricki: I’ll have chocolate.
Okay, perhaps I exaggerate just a wee bit. Sometimes I took Double Chocolate or Chocolate Fudge and sometimes MG took French Vanilla.
I th0ught of MG and our ice cream forays after I’d baked up this marble cake. I mean, doesn’t MG deserve to love his vanilla as much as I love my chocolate? Maybe, I reasoned, vanilla serves an essential purpose for those of us who favor chocolate: unassuming vanilla serves to help us appreciate chocolate all the more, just as jalapenos help us appreciate the soothing cool of yogurt, just as camping in the rain helps us appreciate our snuggly beds at home, just as winter helps us appreciate the long, dry heat of summer (though to be honest, I don’t need any help appreciating summer, even if winter didn’t exist. I’m sure I would love summer even without the snow and sleet and ice and bone-chilling mornings and snow shovelling and fifteen layers of woolens and cars refusing to start and frozen toes inside clumsy boots. But you get the idea).
Since then, I’ve developed a newfound regard for vanilla and all that it stands for.
Hello, Vanilla. I’ve neglected you in the past, but now I realize how unfair I’ve been. We need you in our lives, Vanilla. After all, you function as an essential foil for chocolate, highlighting it wherever you go. You are the airy, radiant yang to chocolate’s brooding, dusky yin. Vanilla, I appreciate how your aromatic perfume sits in contrast to the tannic, bittersweet scent of chocolate in that marble cake. Your light, swirling curls and whorls of gold compel me to notice my favored flavor all the more intensely. With you, Vanilla, I appreciate the uniqueness of chocolate all the more.
Vanilla, I couldn’t do without you. Vanilla, You. Complete. Me.
Oops–got a little carried away there (apologies to Renee Zellweger). But vanilla does complete this marble cake, and I finally “get” the appeal of marble as opposed to all-chocolate. So bake some up for yourself, and enjoy a little slice of flavors in perfect harmony.
* That would be in the “lots of great music, fun, friends and family” sense of the word, not the “Dick Clark on TV” sense of the word.
**That would be in the “thinking long and hard” sense of the word, not the “eating like a cow” sense of the word.
[Until January 4th, you can also win a chocolate-based baking kit! Click here for more info and to enter.]
My Mother’s Marble Cake
This traditional marble cake provides a perfect balance between moist chocolate and vanilla batters. A perfect cake to serve to guests or with a steaming cup of tea for an afternoon break.
2 oz (55 g) fine quality unsweetened chocolate, chopped (I used Cocoa Camino)
2 Tbsp (30 ml) plain or vanilla soy, almond or rice milk
3/4 c (135 g) Sucanat or other unrefined evaporated cane juice
1/4 cup (60 ml) agave nectar, light or dark
3/4 c (180 ml) plain or vanilla almond, soy or rice milk
2 Tbsp (30 ml) finely ground flax seeds
1/3 cup (80 ml) sunflower or other light-tasting oil, preferably organic
1/4 cup (60 ml) unsweetened applesauce
1 Tbsp (15 ml) pure vanilla extract
1 tsp (5 ml) pure almond extract
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) apple cider vinegar
1-3/4 c (245 g) light spelt flour
1 Tbsp (30 ml) baking powder
1/8 tsp (.5 ml) baking soda
1/4 tsp (1 ml) fine sea salt
Preheat oven to 350F (180C). Line a 9×9″ (22.5 cm) square pan with parchment paper, or spray with nonstick spray.
In a small heavy-bottomed pot over lowest heat possible, heat the chocolate and 2 Tbsp milk, stirring constantly, until most of the chocolate is melted. Remove from heat and continue to stir until chocolate is completely melted and smooth. Set aside.
In a medium bowl, mix together the Sucanat, agave nectar and milk; stir until Sucanat is mostly dissolved. Add the flax, oil, applesauce, vanilla, almond extract and apple cider vinegar and mix well.
In a large bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Add the wet mixture to the dry and stir until well blended. Pour about half the batter into the prepared pan (it doesn’t have to be exact).
Stir about 1/4 cup (60 ml) of the remaining batter into the melted chocolate until combined, then scrape the chocolate mixture into the bowl and stir gently to create the chocolate batter.
Drizzle the chocolate batter over the vanilla in a haphazard pattern. Using a knife or small spatula, swirl the chocolate and vanilla batters a few times to create a marbled effect (I folded the batter over three or four times, as if folding in egg whites, then pulled the knife straight through the batter in the outline of a square, parallel to the sides of the pan). Avoid marbling too much, though, or the two batters will combine into one light chocolate cake!
Bake in preheated oven for 40-45 minutes, rotating the pan about halfway through, until cake tests done in the center. Allow to cool at least 15 minutes before removing from pan. Makes 12-16 pieces. May be frozen.
Last Year at this Time: Chickpea Pancakes and Peas in a Creamy Curry Sauce
Two Years Ago: Pear and Ginger Mini-Loaves or Muffins
©2010 Diet, Dessert and Dogs
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