After that harrowing ordeal in the airport and the relentless carnival atmosphere of Miami Beach in the first half of our trip, the HH and I were more than ready to head north to Sarasota, where my cousin Marketing Guru (MG) had promised a more serene lifestyle. So let’s hit the road, shall we?
I. En Route to Sarasota: See Ya Later, Alligator
[Can you believe how many alligators live along this stretch of Florida highway?? Me, neither. (Source)].
Leaving Miami, we headed along interstate Route 75, also known as “Alligator Alley.” This 200-mile (320 km) stretch of highway dissecting the Everglades offers the curious sightseer but one image: a seemingly endless vista of flat terrain dotted with the occasional tawny brush, swampland on either side, and a veritable army of alligators poised on either shore, patiently awaiting their lunch (human, perhaps?), effectively sporting their green leathery camouflage. I tried over and over to snap a photo as we whizzed by the monochromatic scenery, to capture only this:
[Can you spot the alligator in this photo? Me, neither.]
Finally, after about 2 hours without pit stops, bathroom breaks, or any other signs of civilized life, we lit upon Naples, then continued right through to Sarasota (with a quick rest stop at a local Sheraton Four Points Punta Gorda).
II. Sarasota: Feed Me!
I was initially a little wary before our reunion with MG,whom I hadn’t seen in about 10 years. It was also the first time I really got to know MG’s wife (MGW), with whom I’d never really spent any quality time. I shouldn’t have fretted: they were both incredibly hospitable, gracious and welcoming, and we four hit it off famously. I mean, for our first dinner out, MG suggested Chutney’s (“where spice is the variety of life”), primarily because “they have a daily vegetarian option.” (Is he a great guy, or what?) The combination Indian and Mediterranean menu provided more than enough choice for this Canuck gal. Thanks, cuz!
A cozy, unassuming atmosphere beckoned and the food, both homey and creative, was excellent. My pick (of course) was the vegetarian curry of the day (with chickpeas and vegetables) along with a hefty portion of the Mediterranean appetizer plate shared by us all (including baba ganouj, hummus, tahini and falafel). We did manage to get back to the house in time for an hour of ice dancing* before falling into bed. All in all, a great first evening!
III. Sarasota: Come Over Here and Give Me a Pug.
One of Sarasota’s most quirky public events is known as the ”Pug Parade.” For this annual festival, every dog owner in the city–nay, the state (and beyond) dresses up her or his pug, then sashays along a runway with said costumed canine to determine which will win the Dog Owner with Way Too Much Time on Their Hands award. (Okay, I made up that last part. But they do choose a winner for best dog costume.).
Well, as it turned out by sheer coincidence, the HH and I arrived on the selfsame weekend as this year’s parade! And by even greater coincidence, Marketing Guru and MGW have a pug! And her name is Misty! And Misty is a former Pug Parade Champion!
Needless to say, we attended this year’s Pug Parade.
Milling about under a massive tent in the center of a local park, I have never seen so many pugs in one place, let alone so many pugs in wildly creative costumes (biker pug with actual tatoos; sushi pug rolled into a giant nori roll; bride pug with bouquet and groom pug; geisha pug; birthday cake pug; ballerlina pug, Tiger Woods pug, Lady GaGa pug, Bug Pug, and any other kind of pug you can imagine). Misty, this time round, was dressed as Pugahontas. Ain’t she cute?
[Can you spot the alligator in this photo? It's right there in front, dressed up as a pug.]
Though she didn’t win this time round, Misty did receive a huge round of applause and several hoots.
Later, as we drove through the idyllic neighborhood with its palm tree-lined streets and placid parklands, the HH and I both marvelled at how beautiful the area was. A planned community, almost the entire city had been built from scratch.
“Oh, when we first moved in, there were still lots of alligators roaming the streets,” MGW told us. “And wild boars everywhere.” Alligators? Wild boars?
I nodded politely. “Wow,” I said. “You guys are brave to have moved here back then. Good thing the alligators have all gone now.”
“Well, not really,” she countered. “They just hang around the ponds now. You can usually spot a few at each pond.” Given there were ponds at just about every intersection, and given I had not yet spied a single solitary alligator with my own eyes, I remained incredulous. We approached another pond.
“Here, take my binoculars,” MGW urged as Marketing Guru slowed the car. I peered through the lenses at the not-so-distant shore. And. . . what the–?? That dark olive-grey mass in front of the trees. . . by George, it WAS an alligator! But wait! There were two more masses beside it, just over there to the right. . . ! And what was that further down the shore–??!! I could feel my skin begin to tingle.
“They stay still during the day, but they generally come out at night,” MGW informed us. “Don’t worry, though, they don’t come up to the houses. . . well, not anymore.”
And just like that, there went my dreams of moving to Sarasota.
Our pre-performance dinner that night took place at Tropical Thai, another quaint spot that served up surprisingly good food. I was, again, surprised and delighted with the number of vegan options (there was even an entire page of Macrobiotic dishes!). I opted for miso soup, followed by a red curry with vegetables and tofu–not as tasty as the previous night’s Indian curry, but satisfying nonetheless.
Then, it seemed, just as we began to really relax and feel at home,** it was suddenly time to return to Toronto. Here we are now, a week after our return, and it feels as if we never left. And as a bonus, we were greeted last week with the biggest snowstorm so far this season. As Pepé le Pew would say, Le sigh.
["Mum, it definitely felt like you left to us. And don't worry about the snow--at least you won't find any alligators living in this climate!]
Well, if I can’t physically remain in Florida, at least I can travel back along the highway of gustatory imagination. I decided to recreate the delectable butternut-edamame hash I savored at Wish in Miami. With small, uniform cubes of roasted butternut squash cozying up to perky green edamame, both awash in a slightly gooey, slightly sweet maple glaze, this hash was the epitome of clean and delicious fare. I had to have it again!
My version uses yacon as a standin for maple syrup in the original, though you should feel free to swap it back if you prefer the latter or can’t find the former (unless you’re also on the ACD, that is, in which case, sorry–maple syrup is verboten).
The bright hues and fresh flavors of this dish are guaranteed to bring a little bit of Florida sunshine into your mealtime. And no alligators, I promise.
*That would be, “watching it on TV,” not “doing it.”
**Not that I’d ever get used to the alligators, however.
Butternut and Edamame Hash (suitable for ACD Phase I or later)
With its combination of sweet squash, chewy edamame and sticky glaze, this high-protein dish makes a perfect accompaniment to any savory main course.
1 small butternut squash, peeled and seeded, cut into 1″ (2.5 cm) cubes
2 Tbsp (30 ml) extra virgin olive oil
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) fine sea salt
1 cup (240 ml) shelled, cooked edamame
2 Tbsp (30 ml) yacon syrup and 3 Tbsp (30 ml) water OR 1/4 cup (60 ml) pure maple syrup
1 small clove garlic, minced
1 Tbsp (15 ml) toasted sesame oil
1 tsp (5 ml) arrowroot powder or cornstarch blended with 1/4 cup (60 ml) water until smooth
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) maple flavoring (if using yacon syrup), optional
pinch fine sea salt
Preheat oven to 400F (200C). Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper, or spray with olive oil spray. Also spray a casserole or square pan and set aside.
Place the raw squash cubes in a large bowl and drizzle with the olive oil and salt. Toss with your (clean) hands until all the pieces are coated evenly. Spread the squash on the baking sheet in a single layer. Bake for 35-45 minutes, until the cubes are just tender. Remove the squash and reduce the oven heat to 350F (180C).
Meanwhile, in a small pot, combine the yacon/water or maple syrup, garlic, sesame oil and arrowroot mixture until well blended. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until the mixture boils and bubbles; continue to cook and stir for 30 seconds, until thick. Remove from heat and stir in the maple flavoring, if using; season with more sea salt to taste.
Place the squash cubes and edamame in the reserved casserole dish and pour the glaze over them; toss with a large spoon or spatula until all the squares are coated. Reheat in the oven until everything is warmed through, about 10 minutes. Stir again before serving. Makes 4 side servings.
[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).]
the pan
Thanks, everyone, for your sympathetic comments regarding my short career as an enemy of the state in my last post. In retrospect, it was a truly hilarious experience (though not at the moment, unfortunately)!
Today, though, I’ve decided to pre-empt my second “How I Spent My Florida Vacation” post (that will be tomorrow, hopefully), for this quick-as-a-flash recipe that was so delicious, the HH and I fought over who got to eat the last few.
After prepping a butternut squash for the oven yesterday, I decided that for once, I wouldn’t throw away the seeds (they actually contain some amazing nutrition of their own, with nutrients not available in the plant’s flesh: protein, an array of minerals, heart-healthy Omega 3s and Omega 6s–and some impressive fiber). I had tried Eden Organics’ spicy roasted pumpkin seeds while on holiday, so I threw together my own reproduction.
These were easy, quick, and totally addictive. The only drawback is that the yield is a mere 1/3-1/2 cup (80-120 ml) of seeds from a single squash. You may want to start cooking your squash in bulk after trying these!
Oh, and for those of you in the GTA, I’ll be doing a talk and handing out samples of baked goods from Sweet Freedomthis Sunday, at Covernotes bookstore in Newmarket. Hope to see you there at 3:00 PM!
Easy Spicy Roasted Squash (or Pumpkin, of course) Seeds
suitable for ACD Phase I and beyond
These light, crunchy, salty, spicy seeds make the perfect snack-on-the-go, for after school, or for bidding adieu to the Olympics on TV.
Seeds from pretty much any winter squash, scooped out of the shell, rinsed, cleaned and with squash fibers picked out
2 Tbsp (30 ml) Bragg’s Liquid Aminos, tamari, or soy sauce (use Bragg’s for ACD Phase I)
1 Tbsp (15 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
1/4 tsp (1 ml) garlic salt
1/4 tsp (1 ml) cayenne (or less, to taste)
additional fine sea salt, if desired (I didn’t use it–the garlic salt was enough for my taste)
Preheat oven to 375F (190C). Spray a small ovenproof casserole dish or loaf pan with nonstick spray or grease lightly with olive oil (a cookie sheet won’t do for this, as the liquid will spread too much). Add the Bragg’s, oil, garlic salt and cayenne and whisk briefly to combine. Add the seeds to the pan and toss them to coat as much as possible (there will still be excess liquid pooling in the bottom of the pan; this is as it should be).
Bake in preheated oven for 15-20 minutes, then remove and check the seeds. There should still be some liquid left in the pan. Toss the mixture to stir up the seeds and re-coat them in the (now slightly thickened) liquid. Return to the oven for another 10-15 minutes.
Repeat the steps of baking, removing the pan, tossing and re-coating the seeds once or twice more, until the liquid is absorbed and the seeds are dry and browned. Toward the end, you may want to check the seeds every 5 minutes or so to avoid scorching. (I baked mine for a total of 35-40 minutes).
Allow to cool, then dig in and enjoy–no need to shell these before eating, as the shells become thin and crunchy! Makes about 1/2 cup (120 ml). Store in a covered container at room temperature.
[Sorry this is a long post. . . feel free to chop it up into manageable segments, like a honkin' big Florida grapefruit.]
Does this look like a deadly weapon?
Can it really be a week since the HH and I took off for parts unknown in Florida? I guess time really does fly when you’re having fun. Still, it’s great to be back–I’ve missed all of you (well, I did manage one peek at the blog while staying at my cousin’s house in the latter part of the trip–thanks for all the well-wishes!). Hope you all had a great week, too (“Mum, we had a great time staying with our friends at Eternal Optimist’s house, too, but time didn’t fly for us. EO is nice, but she doesn’t dole out quite as many treats as you do.”)
And here I am, back just in time for our first pelting snowstorm (about 10 cm or 4 inches, the largest snowfall so far this year). Nope, Toronto when it snows does not a welcoming city make. While I reorient myself to the city and the cold, I thought I’d give you a few highlights from last week’s holiday, in two parts. Part One: We’ll Always Have Miami.
Toronto, Day 1: Ricki and the HH Attempt to Board the Airplane.
Location: Toronto International Airport.
Ricki and the HH are screened by US customs before they board the plane. The HH, bearing no carry on luggage, saunters through the metal detector and waits on the other side for Ricki.
The Security Guard carefully unzips Ricki’s tightly packed carry-on bag and meticulously paws each and every vial, bottle, jar, bag, container, case, or pouch. He comes upon Ricki’s toothpaste and brandishes it aloft.
Security Guard: What is this, please?
Ricki: Holistic toothpaste. I don’t eat aspartame, which is in regular toothpaste.
Does THIS look like a deadly weapon?
Guard: Hmmm. [He turns the tube this way and that, gazing at it like a jeweler examining the facets of the Koh-i-Noor.] Toothpaste. [He sets the tube of toothpaste aside. He turns to Ricki's purse and begins another piece-by-piece examination.]
Guard [holding Ricki's keychain]: What is this, please?
Ricki: A keychain. [beginning to feel a little nervous, angry at self that she forgot to remove it from the purse]. It’s supposed to protect me in case I get mugged.
See? It even says, “DEFENDER” on the end, not “SECRET AGGRESSOR”!
Guard: Does it extend–? [trying to make the molded plastic bar extend.]
Ricki: No.
Guard: Just a moment, please [speaks furiously on his walkie-talkie].
The Security Manager, a young woman in her late twenties sporting a severe bun, grey fitted suit and practical flats, arrives.
Security Manager [holding the keychain]: May I see your passport, please? [Ricki hands it over.] Does this keychain extend?
Ricki: [beginning to despair]: No.
Manager: Does it contain a blade?
Ricki [panic is on its way]: No.
Manager: Please step aside, Ma’am.
Ricki [fearing she might miss her flight] Are you joking?
Manager: Well, this toothpaste exceeds the carry-on size limit. And we’ll need to check out this keychain more closely.
Ricki [barely holding it together]: You’re going to take my things away from me?! But– [face flushes red]. But that toothpaste costs $10 a tube!
The security manager speaks furiously on her walkie-talkie. Three uniformed police officers arrive. The Security Manager approaches them, Ricki’s keychain in hand.
Manager [to Police Officer #1]: What kind of weapon is this?
Police Officer #1: Well, I guess you could call it a simple club. [he smiles]
Ricki [to Police Officer #1]: Are you going to take it away from me?
PO #1: Well, you know, it could be a deadly weapon [he suppresses a giggle].
Ricki[a bit frantic now]: I’m actually more upset about my toothpaste. It’s $10 a tube!
PO #2: Well, you know, toothpaste might be considered a deadly weapon [he smiles and winks. Winks!]
PO #3: I tell you what. This isn’t, technically, a lethal weapon. So if you give it up voluntarily, you can get through the process much quicker.
Ricki: Well, if it isn’t technically a lethal weapon, what if I decide I don’t want to give it up voluntarily?
PO #3: We’ll take it away anyway.
In the end, the deadly toothpaste and keychain were, indeed, confiscated, though I was permitted to place them in storage until my return. I was then treated to a full body pat-down while the HH stood off to the side smirking and singing under his breath, “Ricki is a TERR-or-ist, Ricki is a TERR-or-ist, nyah nyah.”
To complete the Abbott and Costello air of the event, I realized the guard had retained my passport just as we approached the boarding gate; I asked an airline representative to go check for me. By the time she returned, I had found it in a fold of my purse–but she’d already arranged to have my luggage removed from the plane (since someone without a passport wouldn’t be allowed to transport her luggage, of course).
And so began our first real vacation in ten years. It could only improve from there.
Miami Beach, Day 3: Ricki and the HH meet her father’s new girlfriend.
After the initial shock of settling in South Beach (So much neon! So little green space! So many crowds! So much scalpel-enhanced cleavage!), the HH and I arranged to meet my dad and his new girlfriend for dinner. The Shore Club, where we stayed (courtesy of hotwire.com) was apparently one of the chic spots, renovated by a famous designer and proudly billed as a ”boutique hotel.” The entirely-white lobby, dotted as it was with blocks of sheer white curtains suspended from floor to ceiling at arbitrary locations, floor strewn with white mattress-sized pillows, pristine white couches and a variety of oil lamps, is described on the hotel’s website as “an eclectic mix evocative of global marketplaces.” To me, however, it seemed more evocative of ”latter day opium den.”
In fact, everything about the place (except for the room itself, which featured minimalist geometric furniture (also all white) and a floor and walls covered in–get this–concrete; that’s right: stark, cold, cement-hard concrete. No carpets, no throw rugs) seemed geared toward lethargy and dreamy relaxation. Note the actual bed in the courtyard (it’s right there beside the hammock):
Sadly, with temperatures at their coldest in the last decade, we never took advantage of the outdoor furniture or the hotel pool.
Our dinner took place at the Canyon Ranch Grill, a fortuitous find after I conducted a Google search for “Organic Restaurant Miami.” I couldn’t have been more thrilled with the menu options there–almost everything was organic, with loads of veggie dishes, prepared in a simple yet delectable manner. My own dinner consisted of a grilled vegetable salad (sans cheese or pistachios–they kindly subbed cashews instead); and three of the “Simple Eats”: Steamed Vegetable Basket, Sautéed Spinach and Garlic; and Baked Sweet Potato. Everything was superb–fresh, clean food with pure flavors, cooked to perfection.
And what about my dad’s girlfriend, you may wonder? A tyical Miami snowbird, a cross between Zsa Zsa Gabor and Phyllis Diller, Ms. Friend turned out to be a lovely woman (in fact, a lovely younger woman at 77 years old!), who was clearly besotted with my father. My dad, for his part, lapped up the attention–he’s quite a catch (according to him) at 88 as he still retains all his senses, all his hair, and his ability to play gin rummy–and dance.
Miami Beach, Day 4: Face Time for Ricki and the HH.
The following evening, the HH and I enjoyed an intimate dinner (just the two of us) at Wish, a place recommended by the concierge at our hotel. The dinner there was superb. The menu offers a vegetarian tasting option composed of any four choices from either the side dishes on the menu or the accompaniments to any of the other entrées (for instance, grilled zucchini that would normally be served alongside chicken). I began with the Wish salad, a tart, spicy, crunchy and juicy mix of bitter greens, gingered dressing and toasted cashews; followed by a platter with an Asian stir-fried vegetable salad of carrot, fennel and hijiki (I think) bathed in a chili-sesame vinaigrette; a warm, sweetly glistening butternut-edamame hash; a dainty fingerling potatoes in a red chimichurri sauce, rich and subtly spicy; and simple grilled yellow summer squash and zucchini. Yum!
Left to right, top to bottom: fingerling potatoes with chimichurri; stir-fried vegetable salad; butternut and edamame hash; and simple grilled summer squashes.
As to the ACD, I did my best to consume only “green-light” foods, but decided not to flagellate myself if I ended up eating a few non ACD-friendly items on the trip. This dietary decision led to two surprises: first, the enormous number of dishes I was able to find that easily complied with the diet’s restrictions (with the exception of a couple of salad dressings containing vinegar and the edamame-butternut hash, which I’m certain had a splash of maple syrup). The second surprise, given the volume of food I consumed, was that my weight still remains exactly where it was before the trip (whoo hoo!).
I think all Whole Foods stores should have palm trees beside them, don’t you?.
I was delighted to find a wealth of options at the local Whole Foods (they’re like McDonald’s that way, aren’t they? You can always count on them to be the same wherever you go), such as the tofu-rice salad (to the right in the display case below) which I ate along with roasted brussels sprouts for lunch our first full day in the city.
An abundance of vegan options, from green beans to tofu salad to roasted brussels sprouts. And at the back, there–could it be. . . SEITAN?
The HH and I even had a chance to stroll through the local Lincoln Mall, a series of streets closed to vehicular traffic, boasting a selection of upscale shops. Here’s the HH strolling along the pathway (coy, isn’t he?):
Note the shirt AND sweater required–and we were actually a little underdressed! Of course, it WAS the coldest winter in Miami in the last decade.
It was there I discovered a cute little café called Books and Books. Just take a look at the vegan section on their menu:
Mmmm–so many options! Should I have the Grilled Organic Tofu and Avocado Salad? Perhaps the Black & White Bean Salad? Or how about the Vegan Platter?
Of course, I determined right then that we had to have a meal at the place. We planned our final “goodbye to Miami” brunch there and showed up bright and early (10:30 AM) on the day of our departure. And then–Curses! The vegan menu applied only at lunchtime! They did offer to prepare a breakfast tofu scramble in lieu of eggs, but since I’d ingested soy three times by then, I felt I’d reached my tofu limit. We ended up back at Whole Foods, where I feasted on this:
Dolmades with 2 lentil salads (one with millet and one with quinoa). Gotta love Whole Foods!
Having consumed our final meal in Miami, we were ready to leave the carnival atmosphere and below-60F (15 C) temperatures. We packed up the rental car and bid my dad and the city adieu, heading out toward Highway 75 toward Sarasota, where we were scheduled to stay with my cousin Marketing Guru and his family.
Next Time: Fun in Sarasota. A recipe. And alligators!
[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).]
While reading other blogs lately, I’ve noticed an increase in the number of savory breakfast recipes. Having been on the ACD as long as I have (longer than some Hollywood marriages, longer than Edge of Darkness was in movie theaters, longer than a piece of Stride gum’s flavor, longer than the beards on those ZZ Top guys), I’ve been enjoying savory breakfasts for some time. But it does feel great to know that so many of you are willing to give them a try, too!
When I saw this recipe for Egyptian fava beans, I knew I had to try it. It’s a variation on Ethiopian ful, about which I’d read many years ago–and have wanted to sample since. In fact, I’ve wanted to try fava beans in general for ages, but have been deterred (now, don’t laugh) because they still hold such negative connotations since I saw the original Silence of the Lambs. I just couldn’t bring myself to attempt something that was so relished by Hannibal Lecter.
Get over it, I told myself. These are friendly fava beans. And no liver in sight.
And so, I cooked up the dish. I mean, the recipe seemed so good and so easy, I jumped right in–fava beans be damned! (If only all phobias could be overcome so easily.). This dish is made with dried favas (versus the Martian-green fresh ones, which are obviously not in season about now). I must admit that I cut corners and used canned favas–I knew they had to be well-cooked, and didn’t want to risk messing up my first attempt. Next time, I’ll buy the dried beans and soak ‘em first.
While not quite as spicy as ful, this dish is certainly rich with flavor. The favas are a bit more starchy than your average legume, which made them even more breakfast-like in my mind; though, of course, you could eat this at any meal. At the same time, they’re packed with nutrition: one cup of cooked favas provides a whopping 13 grams of protein, 9 grams of fiber, almost no fat, and 14% of your daily iron. Their flavor is a bit unusual, slightly sour–almost fermented–yet creamy, satisfying and addictive all at the same time. And considering I ate almost the entire plate in one sitting, I’d say they grew on me pretty quickly.
I had mine with Meghan’s version of “instant injera“–a quick and delicious, high-protein, flatbread. Overall, a delicious, savory breakfast–one that won’t leave you craving dessert!
I’m thrilled that I can finally submit this as an entry in River‘s E.A.T. World event–check out all of River’s amazing international dishes (and why not submit one of your own?)!
Side note: this is my last post before the HH and I head out on holiday for a week–to Florida! I was determined to spend at least some time in a warmer climate during my vacation from the college this year, and since my dad is there at the moment, it seemed a perfect destination. Thanks to everyone on twitter who recommended restaurants for this fast-food challenged gal.
Not sure whether or not I’ll be able to update from the road, so I’ll leave you with this nourishing breakfast (or lunch, or dinner) until I return.
See you all in about a week!
xo Ricki
Egyptian Fava Beans (ACD-friendly: Phase I or later)
1-1/4 cups (300 ml) dried fava beans, rinsed and soaked in cold water for at least 12 hours with 1 Tbsp (15 ml) baking soda (or just use canned, rinsed beans, as I did)
2 Tbsp (30 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
1 large onion, finely chopped
1 large garlic clove, minced
1 large tomato, finely chopped (seeded if you want to be fancy)
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) fine sea salt (or to taste)
pepper, to taste
1 small jalapeno pepper, sliced (remove seeds for less heat)
freshly squeezed lemon juice, to taste
Drain the beans and rinse well; place in a pot and cover with fresh water. Bring to boil, then lower heat and simmer until extremely soft. At this point, you should peel the waxy skin off each bean if you like (not essential, but much better as the skins are quite chewy). Simply squeeze one tip of each bean until the bean pops out of the skin (tutorial here). (I did this with the precooked, canned beans, and it worked perfectly.)
Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat and add the onion; cook for about 5 minutes, until it begins to soften. Add the garlic and cook, stirring frequently, until onion is soft and just beginning to brown. Add about half the beans to the skillet and mash with a wooden spoon or spatula to create a bean-onion mush. Add the remaining (whole) beans, tomato, and heat through. Season to taste with salt and pepper, and toss the jalapeno slices over all just before serving.
To serve, sprinkle the beans with fresh lemon juice (I used the juice of 1/2 lemon) and drizzle with extra olive oil, if desired. Best served with flatbread. Makes 2 large servings.
* that’s “bites” in the sense of, “little tidbits that can be eaten in one mouthful,” rather than the sense of, “really sucks” (as in, “reality bites”) or even “little nibbles on the flesh of the one you love” (though, to paraphrase our most famous Prime Minister, DDD has no business in the kitchens of the nation–go ahead and nibble your sweetie, if you so please!).
[Two ACD-friendly confections: chocolate fudge on the left, carob-speckled halvah on the right (halvah recipe adapted from the one inSweet Freedom)]
Well, it’s almost V-Day again. So, got any plans?
Over here in the DDD household, the HH and I long ago abandoned romance. Or perhaps I should rephrase that: the HH abandoned romance. I, on the other hand (nerd alert! nerd alert!) am the kind of gal who would swim in a river of romance if I could find one. I’d eat a triple-decker Banana Split of romance. I’d paint a billboard of romance. I’d crochet a three-piece suit of romance. I’d sleep on a duvet of romance. (“Mum, we’d sleep on a duvet of romance, too, you know. Except you won’t let us on the furniture.”)
I’d–well, you get the idea. Basically, I’m just a big blob of schmaltz (in the figurative sense, that is. I’m only a half blob of schmaltz in the literal sense, what will all that weight loss and everything).
In our house, my approach to Valentine’s Day goes something like this:
February 17, 2009: start thinking about ideas for next year’s V-Day.
July 12, 2009: while enjoying the outdoor jazz festival at the Beaches, surreptitiously write down all the HH’s favorite musicians so I can buy CDs for Valentine’s Day.
November 4, 2009: Stop at craft store to select yarn to knit a romantic scarf for the HH for V-Day. If I start knitting now, I’ll have it for Feb 14th.
January 15, 2010: So many cards for Valentine’s Day–which should I buy? Can’t decide. Buy two.
January 28, 2010: Browse through a plethora of blogs and magazines to find the perfect, romantic meal to cook up for Valentine’s Day. Consult existing list (alphabetized by course) to see which dishes would work best for the Big Feb One-Four.
February 2, 2010: Forget the groundhog! Must choose the perfect ribbon to wrap the HH’s Valentine’s Day gift!
February 9, 2010: Consider how best to deliver the HH’s gifts for the Day of Hearts–only five days away! Should I wrap each one separately, and hide them throughout the house in a kind of scavenger hunt? Should I put them all in the same box, and wrap it as one gift? Such decisions!
February 11, 2010: Pretend I’m baking for a TV spot when I am really secretly cooking up various kinds of chocolate truffles to include in my gift for the HH.
February 14, 2010: Fill a shoebox with mini teddy bear, hand-knit scarf, bag of cinnamon hearts, boxes of homemade truffles, key chain with “I heart You” on it, Miles Davis CD and Card #1 (the sappy one). Spend a couple of hours painstakingly drawing hearts and flowers plus line drawings of Ricki and the HH, in various shades of pink and red, on the outside of the shoebox, then wrapping with blue satin ribbon; stick Card #2 (the funny one) on the outside of the box. Set table with best linens (well, polyester made to look like linen, anyway), china, wine glasses and candlelight. Play something soft and romantic like Satie’s Petite Overture a Danser, and wait for the romance to unfold.
The HH’s approach? Goes something like this:
February 14, 2010: “So, is today one of those holidays where I have to get you a card or you get mad at me?”
Okay, I exaggerate. He usually asks me that question on February thirteenth.
Well, for anyone with similar romantic aspirations to mine, I present you with little bites of chocolate fudge–ACD friendly. These are an adaptation of the super-successful Fudge Two Ways I made a couple of years ago (and feel free to use that recipe if you can consume other sweeteners). The communion of unsweetened chocolate, yacon syrup and stevia creates an irresistible flavor, a bittersweet blend of cacao underscored with subtle hints of molasses.
Whether or not you’re hoping for romance this V-Day, these little bites will definitely bring some alluring chocolate into your life. In fact, you may just fall in love.
Love Bites (ACD-Friendly Chocolate Fudge–suitable for Phase I or II)
[Little white dots of cashew and macadamia nut are visible throughout, a result of my home-ground nut butters; the storebought kind won't have these same speckles.]
3/4 cup (130 g) chopped good-quality unsweetened chocolate (I used Cocoa Camino); or use unsweetened carob chips for ACD Phase I
1 Tbsp (15 ml) coconut oil, preferably organic (USE ONLY with carob option)
1/4 cup (60 ml) natural smooth cashew-macadamia butter (I just mixed together half cashew, half macadamia nut butter); or use all-macadamia for ACD Phase I
1/8 tsp fine sea salt
2 Tbsp (30 ml) yacon syrup, vegetable glycerin, or a combination
10-20 drops plain, vanilla, or chocolate stevia liquid, depending on the brand and your desired sweetness level
1 tsp (5 ml) pure vanilla extract or vanilla paste
1/4 cup (30 g) coarsely chopped walnuts, if desired
Lightly grease a 6 inch (15 cm) loaf pan, or line with plastic wrap.
In a large glass or metal bowl set over a smaller pot of simmering water (the bottom of the bowl should not touch the water), stir the chocolate (or chips and coconut oil, if using carob chips) until melted and completely smooth. Add the nut butter and salt and stir again until combined. Remove from the heat.
Add the yacon syrup, stevia, vanilla and nuts and stir well. Turn the mixture into the prepared pan and smooth the top.
Chill until set, about an hour; then cover with more plastic wrap and chill until very firm, 2 hours to overnight. Turn out onto a cutting board, peel away the plastic wrap, and cut into small squares. Makes 12-20 love bites. Will keep, wrapped in the refrigerator, up to 2 weeks. May be frozen.
Thanks, everyone, for your great comments on yesterday’s post! Honestly, I hadn’t thought that the “beeteroni” (thanks, Leah) was as far “out there” as it turned out to be, but am glad you liked the idea. This ACD really does spark some unusual culinary adventures!
[Quick housekeeping note before today's post: I've been working on updating the blog and finally added a "Press" page with links to the blog and cookbook, for those who are interested in such stuff (see Ricki keep interrupting the hosts on Rogers' daytime TV show!). I'll also be adding a candida-related page (with more info about my diet, treatments, resources, etc) in the next few weeks, and will be updating my blogroll. If I already read your blog and it's not on the list, or if you've got a blog that relates to one of the topics on my "Blogs I Read" page, please let me know with an email at dietdessertdogsATgmailDOTcom. Thanks!Okay, now on to the blog post. . .]
Do you love a challenge?
As a kid, I’d welcome almost any dare and embrace fresh challenges with gusto. Whenever the teacher solicited a volunteer to work out a problem on the blackboard (nerd alert! nerd alert!), I was the first to shoot my hand in the air. One time, my 3rd grade class was given a punishment to write a 200-word essay because two boys had been chattering incessantly at the back of the class (thanks, Norman and Sheldon). To eight year-old me, this presented a fun opportunity. I worked and re-worked my writing, counting articles and changing verb tenses until I achieved exactly 200 words. (Of course, my teacher didn’t notice, but at least it made the assignment more interesting). The next year, after my parents brought home a cocker spaniel, I spent every day after school with him for a month, a pile of dog biscuits by my side, enunciating an elongated “rrrrrroooolllllll” over and over ad nauseum until he finally picked up on the command (thanks, Sweeny).
Later on, once anxiety and insecurity hit in my teens and 20s, everything shifted. In those days, I preferred the anonymity of introversion, backing away from challenges as steadfastly as Salinger backed away from publicity. More than once, anxiety prevented me from accepting a promotion, leaping at an opportunity, or trying a new activity. Challenges passed me by like “Out of Service” subway trains gliding through the station.
And these days? Happily, I’ve settled somewhere between the two extremes (thanks, therapy).
So when I received an email from Elizabeth of Don’t White Sugar Coat It telling me about her (along with 4 other bloggers’) Super Breakfast Bowl Challenge, I knew I had to join in. The challenge asks you to use one of five atypical ingredients in a breakfast dish (and we all know how much I love atypical ingredients!), then send the recipe to the group as an entry for the event (and to possibly win some prizes). This week’s ingredient is avocado.
As it turned out, I’d just had a huge glass of a new apple-based smoothie I concocted this very morning! While most smoothies contain some variation on banana and/or berries, the only fruits I’m allowed to consume at the moment (thanks, ACD) are apples, pears and berries, and berries had featured prominently in one too many breakfast drink already. So–what the heck–I threw an apple into a smoothie. And some green stuff. And ended up with a green smoothie that tastes like apple!
This baby is what Angela at Oh She Glows would call a “Green Monster” (courtesy of leafy greens and avocado). Nothing monstrous in this glass, however. It’s very creamy–velvety, even–with a slight sweetness and pronounced apple-cinnamon flavor; the greens aren’t detectable. Apples provide soluble fiber (to keep those cholesterol levels healthy), avocado contributes heart-healthy monounsaturated fat, cinnamon stabilized blood sugar levels, pumpkin seeds offer immune-boosting zinc, and green leafys add, well, pretty much everything (but mostly some great minerals). With its additional boost of protein powder, this smoothie truly is a complete meal.
If you’d like to join the challenge, head on over to Elizabeth’s blog (or any of the four others). And I’d love to hear about your favorite smoothie combinations as well–please feel free to mention them in the comments.
Apple Pie Smoothie
The ingredients in this smoothie are very flexible–liquid, you might say–so feel free to substitute your own favorite fruit or greens for those in the recipe.
1 medium apple (I like Gala, Crispin, Pink Lady), cored and cut in chunks (no need to peel if you have a strong blender)
1/3 to 1/2 of one medium cucumber, peeled and cut in chunks
large handful of spinach, kale, lettuce, or other mild leafy green
1/2 medium avocado
2 Tbsp (30 ml) raw pumpkin seeds or walnuts
1-2 tsp (5-10 ml) cinnamon, to your taste (I like a lot of cinnamon)
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) ground ginger
10-15 drops stevia liquid or 1-2 Tbsp (15-30 ml) agave nectar or maple syrup
1 cup (240 ml) plain or vanilla soy, almond or rice milk, very cold
1 scoop of your favorite protein powder, plain or vanilla (I used SunWarrior)
Place all ingredients in a high powered blender and blend until perfectly smooth (you can use a regular blender, but will likely have to blend in batches, or else use a bit more liquid). The smoothie will be very thick (I like to eat it with a spoon as a pseudo “pudding”), but if you like it thinner, add more milk or water until desired consistency is reached. Consume immediately. Makes one massive or two regular servings. And it really tastes like apple!
Note: made this way, the smoothie isn’t extremely cold. If you prefer a chilled smoothie, ensure that your apple and cucumber are refrigerated before using, or add a few ice cubes to the mix when blending.
I heard there’s this thing calleed “Super Bowl Sunday” going on today. Personally, I’ve never really seen the point. I mean, seriously, what’s the big fuss? A bunch of slightly overweight guys gripping a ball, then running and throwing it and then all that tumbling on the ground. Gee, and all this time I thought bowling was already passé. Silly me!
Well, pizza is one of those comestibles that suits any occasion, sporty Sunday or otherwise. . . so here’s my contribution to all those super bowlers out there.
While switching to a plant-based diet from a more omnivorous one can be traumatic for some, for me, meat was never much of an issue (I explain more about my relationship with meat on myAbout page). Instead, what I missed–and still miss, dearly–is my first love, milk chocolate. Why does something sadly so devoid of nutritional value have to taste so darned good? I also miss whipped cream (so I made my own version), soft-serve ice cream (hard to find a suitable substitute here) and the occasional marshmallow (though come to think of it, all of those others have more to do with sugar content than dairy or eggs).
But meat? Naw.
One exception, though, is pepperoni on pizza. Why the yearning for the greasy, paper-thin, spicy rounds of flesh and nitrates? I can’t be sure, but I think it may have something to do with Sundays during my childhood.
When I was a kid, my dad worked 6 days a week in his butcher shop, leaving our house before we children even emerged, creases still on our faces and with bed-head coiffures, for breakfast; he returned long after our dinner had left the table. But on Sundays, presumably, he rested. And what did he do instead every sabbath? He packed up the wife and kids into the family station wagon and drove back to that selfsame butcher shop so my mom could do her weekly “grocery” shopping from the store! (Sure, she had to go to the regular supermarket for other staples like lettuce, canned soup, canned tuna, etc., but meats, eggs, dairy and a dizzying array of imported crackers and cookies could be got at Dad’s shop).
We’d pile into the car-cum-delivery truck, make the trek across the city through scenic TMR over to Jean Talon Boulevard and into the vacant store. It was then the negotiations began.
“I want a Fruitella!” the CFO would cry; I’d chime in, “No! how about some SweeTarts?” The Nurse (if she graced us with her teenaged presence at all) would reach for the box of boozy European filled chocolates on the countertop.
“Just one each,” our father would admonish, but if we were really lucky (or sneaky), we’d each make off with another prize as well, my favorite: the Icy Square. Then we’d savor our sweets as my mother browsed the glass counters and chose her food for the week.
Behind the butcher block, suspended like offerings from the hand of some robotic deity, were huge salamis hanging on thick steel hooks. They dried in the open air, exuding droplets of fat as if sweating from the exertion of their acrobatic feat of hanging upside down. There were the thinner pepperoni sticks as well, and one in particular that my dad called “karnatzl“ (you can see what they look like here–scroll about halfway down the page). I never knew it at the time, but karnatzl is a Romanian word for the garlicky sausage–basially, thin pepperoni. And they were my very favorite Sunday snack.
My father would snap off a length of the solid, dehydrated sausage for us to gnaw on as we roamed about the store while my mother completed her “shopping.” The CFO and I would relish the crunchy, spicy meat that oozed with bits of gooey tallow in each bite. The concept of biting into animal fat now makes me shudder both physically and emotionally, but back then I was a carefree eight year-old happy to munch on a stick of beef parts.
My love of pepperoni endured until my first year or so with the HH, when we enjoyed All-Dressed Pizza Night on a regular basis. (I learned quickly when I moved to Toronto from Montreal that pizza is yet another way the two cities differ; in Toronto, you order by ingredient: “Gimme a medium thin-crust with double cheese, mushrooms, peppers and tomato”; in Montreal, in contrast, pizza is distinguished by title: “I’ll take a small Pepperoni” or “I’ll have a medium All-Dressed.”). When I was growing up, all-dressed pizza meant sauce, cheese, green pepper, mushrooms–and lots of pepperoni.
I decided I wanted a pepperoni pizza. No small feat, considering I don’t eat meat. Or gluten. Or cheese.
During my recent love affair with beets, I had a revelation: don’t those beet slices look sorta like slices of salami? Hmm. . . I just had to try it.
The result is this faux pepperoni, perfect on pizza or anywhere else you’d use a spicy, smoky slice of meat (I had the leftovers in a sandwich with tomato, lettuce and onion–superb!). The flavor is lovely, with only a hint of sweetness surviving the smoky, spicy marinade and baking time. The key here is to slice the pieces thinly enough to bake up soft and then slightly crispy on the edges (as you’ll see from my photo, this batch is a little thick. Must. Get. Mandoline.) Too thick, and they still have the subtle earthy flavor of, well, beets.
I will warn you, to create the entire pizza from scratch takes time. Next time, I’ll prep the cheese and pepperoni a day in advance, then cook up the crust and top it when I want to eat it for dinner. But if you’re craving an All Dressed Pepperoni Pizza, this makes a great stand-in, without any wheat, heavy processing, sugar, fillers, or isolated soy protein.
Now, isn’t that better than meat?
I’m entering this post in Food Renegade’s Fight Back Fridays, dedicated to real food recipes, since everything in this pizza is true food!
And speaking of televised events. . . for those of you in the Toronto area, I’ll be appearing on Rogers TV daytime show on Thursday, February 11th live at 10:00 AM (repeat at 5:00 PM) on cable channels 10 and 63 to discuss healthy chocolate Valentine’s Day treats. Tune in and let me know what you think!
All Dressed Pizza with Pepperoni Slices (ACD-Friendly–Phase II)
It’s a classic. . . all-dressed pizza. Great for family dinners, Super Bowl Sundays, or whatever occasion you please.
For the pizza:
1 recipe of your favorite pizza crust–I used this one
1 recipe of your favorite “cheese” (or use a premade one like daiya)–I adapted this one (my version below)
3/4-1 cup (180-240 ml) of your favorite pizza sauce (I made my own from canned tomatoes, basil, oregano and garlic powder, but this one sounds good)
toppings of choice: chopped green pepper, chopped red onion, black olives, mushrooms (if you can have ‘em) and PEPPERONI!
For the pepperoni:
3-4 very small fresh beets, peeled and sliced extremely thin (if you have a mandoline, go for it)
1 Tbsp (15 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
2 Tbsp (30 ml) Bragg’s liquid aminos OR tamari OR soy sauce
1/2 cup (120 ml) vegetable broth
1/4-1/2 tsp (1-2.5 ml) liquid smoke, to your taste*
Place everything except the beets in the bottom of a 9-inch (22.5 cm) square glass pan or a casserole dish and combine well. Add the beet slices and toss to coat them all; spread them out as well as you can (overlapping slices is okay).
Bake the slices, uncovered, for about 20 minutes, then remove from the oven and flip them over and around to re-coat them with marinade and switch the bottom slices to the top and top to the bottom as much as possible. Continue to bake and stir them up every 10-15 minutes until they have absorbed most of the marinade, are very soft, and begin to curl and crisp at the edges. Remove from oven and set aside until you need them for the pizza.
* If you can’t use liquid smoke because of candida issues, double up the smoked paprika.
1/4 cup (60 ml) melted coconut oil, preferably organic
1/2-1 tsp (2.5 -5 ml) fine sea salt, to your taste
2 more cloves garlic, minced
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) yellow mustard powder
1 Tbsp (15 ml) freshly squeezed lemon juice
1/4 tsp (1 ml) ground black pepper
pinch cayenne pepper
1/4 tsp (1 ml) paprika
In a medium saucepan, combine the broth, onion, cut garlic cloves, carrots and potato and bring to a boil. Lower heat to simmer, cover and cook for about 15 mintutes, until the vegetables are soft. Drain, reserving the cooking liquid. Set aside.
In the meantime, place the remaining ingredients in a blender and whir briefly to combine. Add 1/2 cup (120 ml) of the vegetable liquid and the drained vegetables to the blender and blend to create a fairly thick, smooth sauce. You will need to scrape down the sides several times and then blend again to ensure that everything is well incorporated (if you need a teeny touch more liquid, go ahead and add it–but don’t make the sauce too thin, or it will soak your pizza crust!). Use to top your pizza. Makes about 2 cups–too much for one pizza; I used leftovers on pasta the next day.
Assemble the pizza:
Preheat oven to 400F (200C).
Spread tomato sauce on the prepared crust and top with a healthy drizzle of the cheese sauce. Sprinkle with your toppings of choice. Bake in preheated oven for about 15 minutes or until the pizza is warmed through. Then top with the beet pepperoni slices as desired and bake another 10-15 minutes until piping hot. Makes one large pizza (feeds 2 in our house).
During a conversation about something entirely unrelated yesterday, the HH uttered that well-known truism: “There are only two things you can really count on: death, and taxes.”
Well, I have to tell you (and I said this to the HH, too, of course), that hasn’t quite been my experience. For instance, I’ve found over the years that you can also count on the government to increase taxes every few years. And that the second I switch lines in the grocery store, the woman just ahead of me will pull out an item without a price code, necessitating a long and protracted search on the store shelves. And that winter will feel far too long, no matter how few snowfalls we receive.
And you can always–always–count on Britney to do something that prompts a flurry of media squealing, while concomitantly providing literature students everywhere a real, flesh-and-blood embodiment of the word, “bathos.”
Most of us also have our “old reliables” that we count on in the realm of food. My friend Sterlin, for instance, habitually cooked up Date Pasta whenever she required a quick and dependable meal to impress a potential beau (sadly, while the food always turned out great, the beau did not). The Nurse, on the other hand, can count two ”Wowzah!-Zowie!-Sacre bleu!” recipes in her repertoire, both guaranteed to dazzle friends who drop in on a moment’s notice; they’re invariably bowled over when presented with a plate of still-warm, enticing and from-scratch hunks of cake within 30 minutes of arrival (either a fragrant, warming Cinnamon Coffee Cake –recipe handwritten, grease-stained and fading, on an old index card from my mother’s collection–or a lickety-split Chocolate Cake from the legendary Second Helpings, Please!, nowadays known as Wacky Cake).
In recent years, the Butterscotch Blondies from Sweet Freedom (which can be mixed, baked, and ready to eat in about 35 minutes) have asserted themselves as my new standard “old reliable” recipe. Before the blondies, however, my favorite quick and easy dessert was always apple crisp.
Which is odd, not least because apple crisp contains no chocolate. It’s neither a dessert I crave, nor even one I particularly love. Part of this indifference stems from a distaste for baked apples (at least, until I tried these). Still, apple crisp is easy, it’s quick, it can be made with relatively few ingredients, and it’s familiar, comfort food. It can pass for pseudo-healthy (an apple a day, and all that). And it’s even permitted within my ACD-determined restrictions on sweeteners, since it relies on the natural sweetness of the fruit itself.
Last week, when the HH and I were invited to dinner at my friend Eternal Optimist’s place, I returned to my Granny Smith roots and threw together a stevia-sweetened crisp to feed the five of us in attendance. Though the dessert went over well, I wasn’t entirely pleased with the texture of the crumble topping, which seemed a tad dry without sugar to caramelize and provide gooey binding power.
The following day, I’d cooked up some savory pumpkin biscuits based on this recipe (I subbed pumpkin for sweet potato, omitted the sweetener, used flax instead of Ener-G and added sage and garlic salt to the mix–fab!), and subsequently found myself wondering what to do with the leftover pumpkin. Then it hit me: why not mix it with the apples in a crumble-type bar? It seemed the perfect solution, adding texture and flavor to the humdrum apple. (“Mum, that combination sounds a little odd to us, actually. And you know we could have helped you dispose of all that extra pumpkin, no problem.”)
So I played with the original and came up with this layered bar that boasts a moister filling and softer crumble than the all-apple one. The topping, when pressed into place, also forms the bottom crust; the filling is tart and textured, with tender shoots of grated apple suspended throughout the pumpkin purée.
If you like your fruity desserts sweet, though, take note: my version only barely verges on what could be called “sweet” (in fact, the HH informed me it wasn’t quite sugary enough for his taste). Feel free to add more stevia, agave, or other sweetener, as you like. And less sweet means you needn’t feel guilty if you decide to consume the leftovers for breakfast the next day–if there are any, that is. But I wouldn’t count on it.
Apple Pumpkin Crumble Bars (ACD Friendly–Phase II)
Dense, moist, and not too sweet, these bars are a perfect afternoon snack or weekday dessert. The fruity filling isn’t gooey like that of a true apple crisp, but more like unsweetened applesauce. The bars are even better the second day, after the crust has a chance to absorb some of the moisture from the filling and softens up a bit.
1/3 cup (80 ml) melted coconut oil, preferably organic
2 Tbsp (30 ml) yacon syrup or agave nectar (or maple syrup would work, too)
20 drops plain or vanilla stevia liquid
1 Tbsp (15 ml) finely ground flax seeds
1/3 cup (80 ml) plain or vanilla soy, almond or rice milk
zest of one lemon
3/4 cup (80 g) walnut pieces
1/2 cup (90 g) natural almonds (with skin)
1 cup (115 g) old-fashioned whole rolled oats (not quick cook or instant)
1/3 cup (45 g) coconut flour
1 Tbsp (15 ml) cinnamon
1 tsp (5 ml) ground ginger
1/4 tsp (1 ml) cardamom (optional)
1/8 tsp (.5 ml) fine sea salt
2 cups canned or homemade unsweetened pumpkin purée (sweet potato would make a great substitute here)
3 medium sweet apples, peeled, cored and grated on large holes of a box grater
2 Tbsp (30 ml) freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 tsp (5 ml) pure vanilla extract
20-30 drops plain or vanilla stevia (to your taste), or 1/4 cup-1/3 cup (60 ml-80 ml) agave nectar
Preheat oven to 350F (180C). Line a 9″ (22.5 cm) square pan with parchment, or spray with nonstick spray.
In the bottom of a large bowl, whisk together the melted coconut oil, yacon syrup, stevia, flax seed, soymilk and lemon zest; set aside.
In the bowl of a food processor, blend together the walnuts, almonds, oats and coconut flour until the nuts are ground and mixture resembles a coarse meal. Add the cinnamon, ginger, cardamon and salt and blend just to mix. Add the dry ingredients to the wet mixture in the bowl and toss with a fork (as if making pie dough) until it comes together in a very moist yet crumbly dough (it will stick together if pressed, but should readily separate into crumbles if tossed with the fork). Set aside while you prepare the filling.
To make the filling, mix together the pumpkin, apple, lemon juice, vanilla and stevia.
Take about half the crumble mixture (you can just estimate) and press it firmly into the bottom of the pan. Top with the filling, spreading evenly. Sprinkle the remaining crumble mixture evenly over the filling and press gently with the palms of your hands.
Bake in preheated oven until edges are browned and the top of the crumble begins to brown a bit, 45-55 minutes, rotating pan about halfway through. (The filling won’t bubble the way typical fruit pie fillings do). Allow to cool to room temperature before cutting into squares; reheat if desired to serve. Makes 9 large servings. May be frozen.
the pan
In retrospect, it was a truly hilarious experience (though not at the moment, unfortunately)!
(“Mum, we had a great time staying with our friends at 
