Remember how, last week, I mentioned that I seem to be adopting some of the HH’s less-than-enviable habits? Well, this past week, it got even worse: our anniversary came and went*, and neither one of us remembered! (Such behavior would not be unusual for the HH, who would likely never acknowledge anniversaries, birthdays, or holidays if not for my prodding. In my case, I attribute it to what one of my colleagues refers to disdainfully as “mental pause.” I recently heard a middle aged woman remark that of all the things she lost when she entered menopause, she misses her memory the most. Oh, and if that was your comment, I do apologize; I couldn’t remember who said it.)
Luckily, I had made a reservation at our usual spot far in advance of the actual day, so when last Saturday night finally rolled around, we donned our fancy duds; I used a blowdryer on my hair and put on lipstick; the HH wore dress pants and an actual jacket (but no tie); I told the HH that his tan loafers didn’t match his pants; he ignored me; and we were off to celebrate! (albeit a few days late).
The last time we frequented the place (our previous anniversary), I was disappointed with the grilled slab of sweet potato offered to me in lieu of my habitual portobello steak (since I’m unable to eat ‘shrooms on the ACD). This last weekend, however, they more than compensated for the previous gaffe.
Behold my greens, frisée and fresh peach salad (the original included shaved parmesan and candied walnuts, too, but they left those off for me):
So simple, yet so effective! A balsamic-olive oil dressing supplied the perfect sweet-and-tart accompaniment to the crunchy, slightly bitter greens. But it was the main dish that really shone. Rather than risk another insipid replacement for the portobello, I decided to scan the menu to see what sides accompanied each main dish. Then, after thoroughly grilling our waiter about the ingredients in each one, I chose a medley of five different side dishes served on a single plate. The result was spectacular:
[Green and white grilled asparagus plus sautéed rapini, covered with roasted root vegetables, sautéed chickpeas, and butternut purée (peeking out at the top, near the asparagus tips).]
Every single item on that plate was entirely captivating. I was delighted with the way simple ingredients and simple preparation could produce such extraordinary results. The combination of textures and flavors was heavenly; grilling, roasting, or sautéeing, skillfully combined, generated one of the best dinners I’ve had in a restaurant. Even the HH, as he sliced into his slab of meat, peered across the table (with a glint of envy in his eye) and remarked, “That looks great! I’d even eat that!” I didn’t need any more vindication than that.
Yes, sometimes simple is best. There are days you want to strut out in your flouncy skirt, ruffled blouse and velvet vest; other times, you just want the clean lines and unadorned elegance of a little black dress.
In its simplicity–both of ingredients, and preparation–this soup also reminded me that sometimes, fresh ingredients should be permitted to shine on their own, without too much interference from me and the contents of my pantry. What transports the relatively common pairing of squash and apples to a whole new level of gustatory delight here is roasting the apple along with the onion and squash. While the veggies and fruit warm and wheeze and puff and crinkle in the oven, they caramelize, becoming incredibly soft and mellow. Blended together, they form a perfect union of sweet and savory, in an airy, velvety base that nearly floats across the palate.
The HH and I both loved this soup. Along with our anniversary, it’s one more way to help ease the transition into fall.
This is my second entry to the SOS Challenge for this month. The key ingredient is apples. So if you’ve made an apple recipe in the past month, please submit it–you have until September 30th.
* if you’re a regular reader of this blog, it may seem as if we just celebrated an anniversary not too long ago. That’s because we did! The HH and I decided to celebrate both the date we met and the date we moved in together (which happen to be about 6 months apart). So we get two anniversaries per year–crazy romantics that we are!
DDD Gets Around:
I love it when readers try my recipes and let me know that they did. I thought I’d share links to other people who made recipes from or mentioned the blog in the past couple of weeks. If you’ve made a DDD recipe and don’t see it here, please let me know so I can add yours next time!
And if you’re looking for even more recipes to try, there’s always my new ebook, Desserts without Compromise–everything in the book is gluten free, sugar free, low glycemic and vegan!
I roast the squash whole because it’s small and, well, I’m lazy. I find it much easier to cut the already-baked squash in half and scoop out the seeds and flesh than to peel, seed, and cut it while it’s still raw. If you don’t mind the extra work up front, you can cut the squash into cubes and roast it in the same pan as the apples and onions.
one whole small squash (about 1.5 lb or 700 g)–I used buttercup
2 medium tart apples, such as Granny Smith
1 medium onion, quartered
4 cloves garlic, peeled but left whole
3 Tbsp (45 ml) extra virgin coconut oil, preferably organic
Preheat oven to 425F ( C). Lightly oil two square pans.
Place the whole squash in one pan and the apple, onion and garlic in the other. Dot the apple and onion mixture with the coconut oil and then pour the broth over it. Cover the pan with foil (or a cover, if it has one). Bake both pans (keep the whole squash uncovered) for about 30 minutes, then remove the cover and continue to roast until the squash is tender and the apples and onions are soft and just beginning to brown (they may be ready at different times; if so, remove the first pan and continue to roast the second as needed).
Allow the squash to cool enough to handle, then cut open, scoop out the seeds, and scoop the flesh into a blender. Add the apple-onion mixture (include any coconut oil still on the bottom of the pan) and remaining ingredients to the blender. Blend until perfectly smooth and velvety. (If necessary purée the mixture in batches).
Pour the puréed soup into a medium pot and heat over low heat, stirring frequently, until warmed through. Ladle into bowls and garnish with additional rosemary, if desired. Makes 4-6 servings. May be frozen.
* Or, How I Waited Until the Very Last Possible Moment to Make Ice Cream
There are some people (I won’t mention any names) who simply like to leave things to the last minute. Like, for instance, when they (who shall not be named) promise to mow the lawn over the weekend, and then suddenly it’s sundown on Sunday and mowing in the dark just doesn’t seem an appealing option. Or, for instance, when this same unnamed person (who happens to live in your house with you) is supposed to do the laundry, and they keep procrastinating until you are completely out of dish towels for the kitchen, and only remember that “Oh, I guess we in civilized countries like to wear clean clothes once in a while” when THEY (the person who is nameless and happens to live in the house with you and walks the dogs in the morning before going to work) run out of underwear. Or maybe, when the anonymous hypothetical stranger (who lives with you and walks the dogs in the morning and wears size 16A shirts and 32 waist jeans) is supposed to do the dishes after dinner but instead lolls about listening to classical music all evening and then only begins to run the water into the sink at 10:45 PM and doesn’t get to bed (which, as it turns out, this theoretical mystery man shares with you) until almost midnight.
I must admit, when I first started living with the HH (and please note, the above paragraph is a purely fictional account, and any resemblance to the HH, living or–well, living–is purely coincidental) I found it incredibly difficult to adjust to his, shall we say, apatheticlackadaisical ”relaxed” sense of schedule. Seriously, the HH should have been born in one of those countries where they don’t pay attention to time–like the Pirahã Tribe of Brazil. He lives and moves at his own, highly idioscyncratic, pace–and pretty much oblivious to the rest of the world. Whereas I (or, at least, the “I” of yore) tend more toward the anal side of things. I got through my undergrad years by blocking out chunks of time in my daybook and sticking to my schedule no matter what. It worked well when I lived alone and had no other responsibilities; but now. . . not so much.
You know how they say that people begin to resemble their dogs over time? Well, I think the same thing is true with spouses. It seems I’ve adopted some of the HH’s habits by osmosis (funny, it doesn’t seem to work in reverse). In any case, I think that’s why, on the very last weekend before we bid summer adieu for nine more months (I’m still a little dehydrated from all the sobbing), I decided to make ice cream.
Twice.
The other day, I put out a call on twitter: what kind of ice cream should I make? I got an array of interesting responses, from Kristin’s suggestion of plum-raspberry (which I also whipped up, as a sorbet–recipe anon) to Heather’s apple or Monika’s pumpkin. Now I want to make all three! But I just couldn’t get Tasha’s recipe from last week out of my mind. I mean, Nutella Ice Cream. How opulent is that??
With just a couple of wee adjustments, I had a version that is:
the most amazingly decadent, rich, indulgent treat you can possibly imagine
unspeakably delicious
Chocolate.And hazelnuts!
See number 3, above
made from only FOUR ingredients!
It was so rich, in fact, that even I could eat only a small portion (Me! The “bathe-me-in-chocolate-I-can-never-get-enough-of-the-stuff” gal!). Oh, yes. I know I will definitely have to mix this up again. As soon as I manage to make some more “notella.” And buy some coconut milk.
Only, not today. I’ve got some music to listen to. Or maybe I should mow that lawn. . . .
“Nutella” Ice Cream (adapted from The Voracious Vegan)–No Ice Cream Maker Required!
1 cup (240 ml) homemade or store bought Nutella (I used this recipe)*
1 cup (240 ml) full fat Coconut Milk (I use Thai Kitchen)
3 Tbsp (45 ml) plain or vanilla rice milk
2 Tbsp (30 ml) vegetable glycerin or agave nectar
Line a 9 x 9 inch (22.5 cm) square pan with plastic wrap or waxed paper, or line 6 regular muffin cups with silicone liners (paper liners won’t do for this purpose).
Place all ingredients in the bowl of a food processor and process until perfectly smooth and blended (or place in a bowl and whisk really well to combine). Pour the mixture into the pan or divide evenly among the muffin liners.
If using a pan, freeze until firm, 2-3 hours, then remove from pan and cut into 9-12 squares. Place the squares in a clean (food grade) plastic bag or sealed plastic container, or pop the frozen mixture out of the liners and place in a bag or container and store in the freezer until ready to use.
To make the ice cream: Use 1-2 frozen disks (from the muffin liners) or 3-4 squares for each serving. If you used the muffin liners, chop each frozen disk into 2-3 pieces (if your processor isn’t very powerful, you may wish to chop the pieces even smaller). Place the cubes or pieces in a food processor and process until smooth (the mixture will first crumble and appear like bread crumbs; press it down with a rubber spatula, then keep processing and eventually it will form a ball that rolls around the processor bowl; at this point, it’s ready to scoop).
Scoop and serve. Makes 3-4 servings.
*Note: If you are not following a sugar-free diet, feel free to use store-bought. For an ACD-friendly recipe, sorry, you must make your own.
Thanks to everyone who entered the Amy’s foods giveaway! I enjoyed reading all your comments about why you love Amy’s–the “real” ingredients, convenience, home-made taste, variety, and more. While I will likely still continue to make 95% of my food from scratch, it’s nice to know that I have a healthy alternative when I’m rushed for time or just don’t feel like cooking.
I’ll be back later today with a new (easy and decadent!) recipe. But in the meantime, who won the giveaway?
i love Amy’s bean burrito! it is perfect for on the go lunches but i am always up to try anything of hers that is soy-free (darn my intolerances)-am sure everything is fabulous.
Congratulations, Jamie! Please email me at dietdessertdogsATgmailDOTcom with your mailing address so you can receive your prize!
Number four in the “Back-to-School-Swag” series is coming up next week–and I cannot WAIT to give this one away! It’s a wonderful product and an AMAZING prize. (I just love giving presents to people!)
[But Mum, how come I wasn't your assistant this time? I mean, Elsie got to do it last time. Just because I won't sit still with a little paper in front of me is no reason to deny me! Look, I can hold this ball! Or I can chase it! Or I can chew it to bits! See, I’m just as talented as Elsie! And I’m faster! And I’m younger! And I’m–”
“Zip it, Chaser. Keep rambling like that and Mum might just change her mind about including us when she gives out those ‘presents.’ The things I put up with . . . *sheesh*.”
Here we are with Number Three (out of four) in my Back-to-School Swag Giveaway series, and I am really in love with this one! And now you can try Amy’s organic, allergy-friendly (many gluten free), vegan, whole foods products, too, for free. Yay!
Gift Number One–for me:
Before I get to the giveaway details. . . let me tell you about this amazing care package I received in the mail last week. It was from Sarah of The Ordinary Vegetarian, and it was all part of a blogger care package swap orchestrated by Lindsay of Cook.Vegan.Lover. Sarah and I were matched up to send each other goodies in the mail, and just look what I got:
[And all this is mine! Aren't I lucky?]
What an amazing haul! Sarah went totally over the top on this one. . . and every item was chosen with incredible care to ensure that it was gluten free and ACD friendly. She also went out of her way to include several items from Trader Joe’s, as we don’t have those stores here and I’m unable to buy a lot of the items here in Toronto. Was that sweet of her, or what?
Here’s what I got:
a box of Mary’s Herb Crackers
a box of Trader Joe’s Chive and Onion corn crackers
Single-serving size Mary’s Crackers and Mary’s Sticks and Twigs
a bag of dried bananas (I truly can’t wait to have these as soon as possible!)
a bag of dried pears (nom!)
a bag of crunchy dried green beans–yes, green beans! They are crunchy, slightly salt, slightly sweet, and a wonderful snack
a bag of lentil-potato curls, an incredibly addictive little snack!
a jar of Vietnamese cinnamon (the aroma is heavenly–can’t wait to use this in my smoothies)
a jar of UNsweetened sunflower butter–whoo hoo! (already made a huge dent in that one)
a tube of Madagascar vanilla beans (not in photo, as the glass case, sadly, broke)
an adorable Martha Stewart squeaky toy–for THE GIRLS!
Thank you so much for your thoughtfulness and generosity, Sarah! So far, I’ve loved everything I’ve tried.
And now, for Gift Number Two–the one for one of you:
[. . . and this could also be yours! (The Girls not included.) Details here.]
I’ve known about these organic, gluten free, dairy free, egg free, vegan products for some time and for some reason never tried them out. . . until now. And I’d love for you to win some for free!
To read my review, get the recipe and enter the giveaway, click here.
“Mum, did we just hear you say something about a squeaky toy for us in that giveaway package? So, when do we get it. . . ?”)
*no relation to that unctuous, ochre tinted, replete-with-chemical-ingredients-and-refined-sugar gel you get in little packets next to your egg rolls.
[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).]
[Seen here spooned over a breakfast of cooked millet and brown rice with walnuts. Just look at that brilliant magenta!]
Now that it appears I’m basically on the ACD for life, I’ve had to let certain habits fall by the wayside (and no, I’m not talking about “keeping my desk organized”; “working out regularly”; “clearing my email box daily” or even “cooking dinner every night”–though I’ve pretty much abandoned most of those, too).
No, I’m talking about fruit negligence.
You see, I am a fruit lover. And what’s not to love? Most fruits are sweet, juicy, packed with nutritional benefits, and even contain a goodly amount of fiber so that you don’t experience untoward spikes in blood sugar. In fact, I was accustomed to eating two or three fruits per day, back before I was diagnosed with candida.
Now, the gravy train (or would that be “guava train”?) has pulled out of the station–gone. The ACD permits no fruit for the first while, then relents and doles out only one per day for the next long while. In addition, that singular daily fix must be “non-sweet”; that is, apples, pears, most stone fruit (peaches, nectarines, apricots, plums) or berries. And while all of those are delicious in their own right, some of the best and most flavorful fruits are excluded. No beloved bananas. No marvelous mangoes. No perfect persimmons.
I tell you, I am bereft.
Ah, okay, I’m over it. After all, I can eat fruit again! What the heck am I whingeing about? It’s fruit! Sweet, juicy, packed with nutritional benefits. . . you get the idea. And precisely because I eat only one fruit a day, I have come to cherish that one, to savor it, to relish every dripping, sugary, fiber-packed mouthful.
Which brings me back to my negligent ways. For some reason, I still find myself overlooking plums. It’s not that I don’t enjoy eating a good plum. . . but when they first arrive in their plain brown bags (in our organic produce box), they don’t hum to me. They huddle together in the dark at the bottom of the bag and refuse to let their charms be known. And far too often, I simply close that bag and set it on the counter–and then forget it.
The other evening, I noticed an untouched brown bag on the counter and knew immediately that it was our plums. Inside, one of them had already gone to the big compost bin in the sky–far too ripe, mushy, and completely unsalvageable. I was determined to save the remainder of the lot.
But what to make? I could re-create my recent pear and cranberry cake using plums, for a gluten free version of this one. Or, I could come up with something entirely new, to showcase plums’ unique charisma.
As it turns out, I’ve been craving something to pour over pancakes on Sunday mornings (since I’m not allowed maple syrup, évidement). So I decided to create a lovely fresh plum sauce!
The texture of this sauce is midway between plum butter and coulis. It has enough body to spoon over puddings or layer in parfaits, yet is light enough to use as a slow, gliding syrup over pancakes or waffles. The flavor is crisp and fresh and bursting with crimson brightness from the plum skins. I thoroughly enjoyed it several times over the past week.
Plums, I hope you can forgive me. You are every bit as juicy as your peachy cousins, every bit as sweet as your blackberry cohorts, every bit as enticing as your Granny Smith ancestors. And now that I know the depth of your potential, I promise I’ll never abandon you on that counter again.
And in the “Excited to the Extreme” Department: I just found out yesterday that my cookbook, Sweet Freedom, has been shortlisted for a Cuisine Canada Culinary Award! I almost fainted!! It’s an indescribable honor to be listed among such Canadian Culinary luminaries as Anna Olson, Michael Smith, Tony Aspler and Laura Calder, among others. Thank you, Cuisine Canada, for recognizing my little tome!
Stay tuned for the third of four ”Back-to-School-Swag” giveaways next time. . . you won’t want to miss these last two!
[Total pancake satisfaction!]
Quick, Fresh Plum Sauce or Topping
This is almost too easy for a recipe. But since it does require a bit of cooking, here’s how I made it.
4-6 large plums, washed and pitted (don’t peel)
1 Tbsp (15 ml) freshly squeezed lemon juice
plain or vanilla stevia liquid, to taste (I used 15-20 drops)
Cut the plums into chunks and process in a food processor with the lemon juice until as smooth as possible (you may still see tiny flecks of skin; this is fine).
Pour the mixture into a small pot and heat over medium-low heat, stirring frequently, until the mixture deepens in color and thickens somewhat. Remove from heat, add stevia to taste, and pour into a clean, dry glass jar. Store in the refrigerator for up to one week. Makes 4 servings.
Whew–what a weekend it was! I was a presenter at the Toronto Vegetarian Food Fair on Sunday and was just tickled to be able to offer the audience a taste of Mrs. K’s Date Cake from Sweet Freedom (a personal favorite). Thanks to everyone who came out this year, and special thanks to Lisa (who blogs at Vegan Cookbook Critic) for an amazing job organizing the food demos (and for that photo, above).
Thanks, too, to all of you who entered the Xagave giveaway over the weekend! I’ve chosen a winner at random and, as promised, will be having a few more giveaways over the next couple of weeks in honor of back-to-school (and I am soooo excited about the next one coming up!)
And as for who won the Xagave, I’ll hand it over to my lovely assistant here to announce the winner:
“Thanks, Mum, happy to help. Our winner today is Number 37–Ashlie, who wrote, ‘I too only indulge occasionally – but it is great for whipping up some mock whipped cream with coconut cream – just a little adds the perfect hint of sweetness. The cream works great as a tart filling too.’ How was that, Mum? Okay, so now where’s my treat?”
Congratulations, Ashlie! Please send me your mailing address so that I can get your prize out to you asap.
Stay tuned for Number 3 in the “Back-to-School Swag” giveaways, and a new recipe in the next post!
[And don't forget--if you're looking for other low glycemic, ACD-friendly desserts, I've got 19 of them in my new ebook, Desserts without Compromise!To see what's in the book or to order, click here.]
I do love my HH, but he is so often a conundrum to me. I mean, how is it that the guy (and most guys, really) can tell the difference between, say, a Corvette from 1974 and one from 1976 when I can’t even discriminate between a Corvette and a Porsche–from different decades? (And believe me, I’ve tried. Since the HH is such an autophile*, he’s often pointing out sports cars as they pass us on the roads, and eternally surprised that I can’t differentiate one from the other). It’s all in the details, he tells me.
In the kitchen, that same ability to differentiate between two similar but ultimately unique ingredients is a key requirement for a discerning palate. While I may suck at vehicular identification, I’ve always excelled at culinary classification.
Back in high school, for instance, I took a course called “Home Economics” (for all you young’uns, that’s what “Domestic Science” was before political correctness was invented). Our cooking teacher, Mrs. Jennings, could have been plucked from the pages of a Dickens novel. Almost six feet tall with clay-brown hair cropped tight to her head, she tended to wear stiff cotton or linen shirtdresses in varying shades of brown, black, or beige, tightly belted at the waist (well, to be honest, she didn’t actually have a waist; but the belt was sort of midway between her knees and her shoulders). With buttons just a bit too tight and the hem clinging to her knees, she’d stride through the classroom like a union leader marching at a pep rally, barking orders.
One day, she set up an impromptu quiz in the classroom: six miniature plastic cups–the type you get samples in at supermarkets–were lined up at the front of the room, each containing an opaque white liquid. ”There are many types of milk,” she told us, “and you should know the different kinds and their uses. Who would like to sample them and try to tell us what is in each cup?”
Nobody raised a hand. I was conflicted: I’d been baking since I was six, drinking milk for many years before that, and I was absolutely confident that I’d be able to identify them all. At the same time, Mrs. Jennings was, shall we say, about as approachable as an angry porcupine. Add to that the fact that we had just completed the “sewing” section of the course, and she had been none too pleased with my crooked stitching, uneven hem, and brown thread on a turquoise blouse. My mark already in jeopardy, I knew I was taking a risk.
I stretched my arm toward the ceiling. “I’ll do it,” I said. Her eyes widenened, but she motioned me over to the table.
One by one, I sipped from the samples. “This is evaporated milk,” I pronounced, swishing the thick, slightly gray liquid in my mouth. I took up the next cup. It contained a thinner, blue-tinged liquid. ”And this one skim milk.” A third: “This one is homogenized.”
One by one, I sipped from the containers, and with each sip, Mrs. Jennings’ face turned a deeper shade of crimson. By the time I had finished, she looked like she’d been hit with two overripe tomatoes, one on each cheek.
“That’s. . . very. . . good, Ricki,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “You got them all. .. correct.” She pronounced it “CO-rrrrect,” like two words, as if she were contemplating her next move between syllables. After that, she never called on me again. But she did put me in charge of Christmas cookies for our end-of-term party.
You’d think that someone with such a sensitivity to minute variations in taste and texture would likely possess a discerning palate as well, wouldn’t you? Um, nope. In the house of my childhood, we didn’t discriminate. If it was sweet, we liked it. I was equally happy with a Hershey bar, a Godiva Hazelnut Praline Chocolate Truffle, or a handful of Chipits chocolate chips. I mean, they’re all chocolate, right?
Ironically, it’s only since I changed my diet to embark on the ACD (having to eliminate pretty much all conventional treats of any kind) that I’ve truly begun to consider the quality of the ingredients I use (and even then, I still sometimes ignore that, too). When dessert is a rarity instead of a twice-a-day indulgence, you want to be sure you really, really enjoy it. And when you know that the crappy desserts you used to binge upon are the main reason you’ve been sick for 18 months (who am I kidding? I’ve been on the diet for 18 months, but the illness began long before that), you want to be sure that they are the finest quality you can get.
When I came across the inspiration for this recipe a while back, I immediately thought, “there’s no way I could make these healthy!” The original contained all the horrific sweets from my childhood: hydrogenated, sweetened peanut butter, sugar-laden chocolate chips, white flour, eggs, butter, and various other artery-hardening ingredients. Then I got to thinking: my palate may not be so discriminating, but it sure can be creative. So I decided to go for it and turn the recipe into an ACD-friendly delicacy.
This is actually a reworking of two other recipes on this site, my Bean Brownies (from way back in 2008) and the Cookie Dough filling from earlier this year. I’ve revamped each of them just enough that together, they really do constitute a new recipe. All the ingredients in these babies are, on balance, good for you–and they taste good, too. Really good.
Almost like a nanaimo bar in its tri-level structure, the brownie combines a fudgy, densely chocolate base with a slightly lighter raw chocolate chip cookie dough topping. Poured over all is a thick, bittersweet chocolate coating that’s midway between a crunchy topping and a ganache, glossy and firm yet soft enough to slice without cracking.
When I served one of these to the HH, he announced (after relishing it bite by bite and even licking the melted chocolate off his fingertips), ”These are a triumph.” Seriously, that was the word he used! He went on, ”They’re like something you’d buy in a fine European pastry shop, that dark imported chocolate you get. And you think, “oh, well, these are supposed to be like this,’ and you gobble them up.’”
Could I have asked for a better compliment? I think not.
So next time you have friends over for dinner, serve them a platter of these brownies for dessert. No matter how discering their palates (and even if they drive a 1976 Corvette), you can proffer these with pride, knowing people will never guess that they’re “healthy.”
. . . And now it’s time for a “Back-to-School Swag” Giveaway–Number Two!
I’ve just recently started experimenting with a couple more conventional low-glycemic sweeteners, and these squares make use of agave. If you’d like to read about the brand I used or win some for yourself in a giveaway, click here.
[Side note: as a member of the BlogHer ad network, I am required to place my review and giveaway on a separate page--apologies that you have to click through before you can enter the giveaway! I figured I'd offer you this awesome recipe to help mitigate the pain. ]
*no, it’s not some perverted onanistic activity, though it sounds like it. All I meant was “car-lover.”
And wouldn’t this be a perfect contribution to Amy’s Slightly Indulgent Tuesdays event? Hop on over to her blog to see what else people contributed!
Cookie Dough Topped Brownie Bars: Gluten Free, Sugar Free, Egg Free and Dairy Free (suitable for ACD Stage 3 or Maintenance)
Don’t let the long ingredient list deter you here–the brownies come together quickly since almost everything goes into the blender and blends up in just a few minutes. While they bake, you can mix up the cookie dough and chocolate topping.
For the brownie layer:
1.5 cups (360 ml) white, navy or white kidney beans, rinsed and well drained (canned beans work best for this recipe)
2 Tbsp (30 ml) unsweetened almond, soy or rice milk
2 Tbsp (30 ml) tahini (sesame paste)
3 Tbsp (45 ml) coconut oil, soft at room temperature (if it’s solid, melt before using in this recipe)
20-30 drops plain or vanilla stevia liquid, to your taste
Make the brownie: Preheat oven to 350F (180C). Line an 8 or 9 inch (20 or 22.5 cm) pan with parchment, or spray with nonstick spray.
In the bowl of a powerful blender (a food processor is not suitable for this recipe), combine the beans, milk, tahini, coconut oil, chia, Bragg’s, Xagave, coconut sugar, stevia and vanilla until velvety smooth and absolutely no lumps remain. (If using a conventional blender, you can still make it this way: blend the beans, milk, Xagave, vanilla and stevia first until perfectly smooth, blending in smaller batches if necessary. Add the tahini, coconut oil, chia and coconut sugar and blend again until well combined. Proceed as below.)
In a large bowl, sift together the sorghum flour, cocoa, baking powder, soda, sea salt and xanthan gum; whisk until everything is evenly distributed. Pour the wet mixture over the dry and stir just to combine well. Stir in the chopped chocolate or cacao nibs. Pour into the prepared pan and smooth the top.
Bake in preheated oven for 20-25 minutes, rotating the pan once about halfway through, until a tester inserted in the middle comes out clean. Cool 10 minutes, then place in freezer to hasten the cooling process while you prepare the cookie dough topping.
Make the cookie dough: In the bowl of a food processor, blend the oats, cashews, salt and cinnamon until they are the texture of cornmeal. Add remaining ingredients except cacao or chocolate and blend until you have a smooth, soft cookie dough. It should be thin enough to spread (like a frosting), yet slightly too firm to pour (don’t worry: it will thicken up overnight in the fridge as it chills). Add the cacao or chocolate and stir it in by hand.
Once the brownie is very cold, spread the cookie dough mixture on top, spreading it as evenly as possible. Pop the pan back in the freezer for 10-15 minutes to firm up.
While it chills, make the chocolate topping: in a small, heavy-bottomed pot, melt the chocolate and coconut oil. Stir in the agave and stevia and blend well. Pour the mixture over the cookie dough topping. Place the pan (uncovered) in the refrigerator until the chocolate is firm; then cover with plastic and continue to chill for at least 4 hours or overnight. Slice into squares and serve. Smile as you receive grateful praise. Makes 16-20 small squares. May be frozen.
[For those of you in the Toronto Area, I hope you can drop by and see me at the Vegetarian Food Fair at Harbourfront this weekend! I'll be doing a recipe demo (one of my favorite cakes from Sweet Freedom) with free samples at 12:00 noon on Sunday, September 12. Other Toronto-area foodies like Meghan Telpner and Marni Wasserman will also be on board, plus dozens of vendors and new foodie products to sample. It's a great day outside, near the lake, with yummy food and entertainment!]
After the excesses** of the recent long weekend here in Toronto, I felt the need for something more ascetic. I was craving something light, clean and (yes) green: a salad! And with the SOS Challenge for September featuring what is likely a staple in everyone’s home, I knew that my salad had to contain apple.
I got this recipe from a cookbook I’ve had for years–a decade, almost–and from which I have never cooked
One.
Single.
Thing.
It’s not that I haven’t browsed through it on many occasions, earnestly searching for something that struck my fancy. It’s not that the recipes don’t all sound good, because they do. It’s not even that I don’t have dozens of sticky notes protruding from the pages, each one flagging a different recipe I’d like to try some day. It’s just that when I read through the instructions, I immediately think that I’d prefer someone else to prepare it for me. (“We know what you mean, Mum. We prefer to have someone else prepare our food for us, too. And that someone would be you.”)
Why is it that some cookbooks become our BFFs while others languish on the bookshelf, never invited to the party and never infiltrating the inner circle of most trusted, reliable, oft consulted and well-hugged volumes? I have cookbooks the pages of which fall out every time I pull them from the shelf, they’re so well-thumbed, and then others. . . like this one. Why?
Could it be that this particular tome, Everyday Greensby Annie Somerville, is a restaurant cookbook? That is, it contains recipes from an already popular restaurant, published after that restaurant became well established. Now, I don’t know about you, but when it comes to the (few) restaurant cookbooks I’ve purchased, there seems to be a recurrent pattern. It may be that I already love the resto (as in the case of Fresh here in Toronto), or I may have heard of the chef (as with Eric Tucker from Millennium in San Francisco) or the venue itself (such as Real Food Daily in LA).
I’m sure you’ve all likely done the same thing (no? You mean it’s just me?): for whatever reason, I might find myself enchanted by the idea of re-creating food from the book, and so buy it. And then I get it home and realize that even the simplest dish–maybe, a “Yin and Yang Salad with Peanut-Sesame Dressing” or a “Revival Rice Bowl”–requires hours of advance marinating, special sauces with 47 ingredients, or a piece of equipment–a cherry-pitter, pressure cooker, bamboo steamer basket, say–that has never found its way into my kitchen. Sure, when you’re running a professional operation, there are big vats of sauces, garnishes and other staples all mixed up long before the day even begins. But here at home, everything must be put together by a single pair of hands, one at a time.
I guess that’s why I liked this salad. Despite the need for a bit of advance prep (you have to roast the beets beforehand and, if you’re using homemade nut cheese, make it first), the salad comes together very quickly and easily. It combines the liver-loving properties of beets with equally healthful apples (for all the info on the forbidden fruit, see the SOS kickoff post for this month). Add to that the detoxifying properties of dandelion, and you’ve got one mega healthy plate of produce.
I did make a couple of changes to the original here by using dandelion instead of salad greens (which we didn’t have). But I think the bitterness of the greens offers a perfect foil for the softly caramelized beets and the crunchy-tart apple slices; it all comes together harmoniously topped with salty, smooth feta. The dressing is a sweet and tart affair that even uses part of the apple, blended, for thickness and flavor.
With its combination of crunchy raw greens and baked root vegetable, this salad effectively straddles the transition from summer to fall. And with that, it might help make my own transition to the cooler season a little less painful, too. And who knows? I might, one day, end up making something else from this cookbook.
** the term “excesses” being relative, of course. It used to mean drinking an entire bottle of champagne by myself. These days, it means eating two (ACD friendly, low glycemic) brownies in one weekend. I am such a rebel!
Salad Greens with Apples, Beets and Almond Feta(suitable for ACD Stage 2 and beyond)
Though it requires a bit of preparation beforehand, once the beets are done, this salad comes together very quickly. Feel free to switch up the greens for mesclun mix or other bitters such as arugula in place of the dandelion.
For the salad:
1 head romaine, washed. dried and torn into bite-sized pieces
half a bunch of dandelion (or other bitter) greens, washed, dried and torn into bite-sized pieces (omit any thick stems; you can save those for stock)
1 large crisp apple (I used Granny Smith)
For the Cider Vinaigrette
2 large beets, roasted, cooled, peeled and cut into wedges
salt and pepper to taste
1/2 batch of prepared Almond Feta, chilled and crumbled (or use your favorite flavorful cheese)
Place greens in a large bowl and set aside.
Cut the apple into quarters and remove the core. Reserve one quarter for the vinaigrette and slice the rest into thin slices; add the slices to the bowl with the greens.
Prepare the vinaigrette (see below). Toss the beets with about 1 Tbsp (15 ml) of the vinaigrette in a small bowl and set aside.
Pour the remaining vinaigrette over the greens and apple slices and toss to coat everything well. Separate the mixture onto individual plates; tuck the beets here and there between the leaves, then sprinkle the cheese over all. Serve immediately. Makes 4 servings.
For the Vinaigrette:
1/4 apple (from the apple in the salad, above), cored and chopped
2 Tbsp (30 ml) unfiltered apple cider vinegar
1 Tbsp (15 ml) freshly squeezed lemon juice
5 drops plain stevia liquid, or 1 tsp agave nectar
1/4 tsp (1 ml) fine sea salt
3 Tbsp (45 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
Place all ingredients in a blender or use a hand blender and puré until smooth. Use with the beets and salad, above.
Hi Everyone! Welcome back to school, work, autumn, spring or the new season of Oprah–whichever applies to you! September also brings us another SOS Kitchen Challenge, the monthly recipe event hosted by Kim of Affairs of Living and me. Kim is a big fan of autumn while I, as you may recall, think of it as one dreaded step closer to winter. But what we do have in common is a love of this month’s SOS ingredient! I’ll hand it over to Kim, who wrote our SOS introduction this month:
Up here in the north, mornings are getting cooler, the leaves are starting to look slightly more golden, and the gardens are delivering all their bounty, urging us to preserve food for winter. Soon it will be time for warm stews and soups. But before we pull out our winter gear, we have the golden days of autumn ahead of us.
This month’s SOS Kitchen Challenge features one of the tastiest foods of early autumn, a fruit that is delicious, nutritious, and has appeared prominently throughout history. According to the Bible, Adam and Eve ate from the forbidden tree that bore these fruits, resulting in God banishing them from the garden and punishing all of mankind by cursing women with painful labor and childbirth (um, aren’t you glad that doesn’t really happen when we have a fruit craving?). Some millennia later, William Tellwas challenged to shoot an arrow through one of these fruits on top his son’s head, in exchange for his freedom from some pesky Austrian emporers. Not so long after that, Isaac Newton formulated that whole notion of gravity by watching one fall off a tree. And most recently, one of these little beauties put the legendary Snow White to sleep.
That’s right friends, we are featuring none other than the humble apple this month.
Originally from Eastern Europe and southwestern Asia, apples are an ancient fruit loved by people since prehistoric times. Carbonized remains of apples have been found by archaeologists in Swiss prehistoric lake dwellings, dating all the way back to the Iron Age! There is also evidence that shows European Stone Age peoples preserved apples by slicing and sun drying them. Here is a bit of additional interesting apple history from World’s Healthiest Foods:
Apples have long been associated with the biblical story of Adam and Eve, although there is actually no mention that, in fact, the fruit in question was actually an apple. In Norse mythology, apples were given a more positive persona: a magic apple was said to keep people young forever. Apples’ most recent appearance in history occurred in the 1800s in the U.S., when Johnny Appleseed-a real person named John Chapman, despite the mythological quality of his tale-walked barefoot across an area of 100,000 square miles, planting apple trees that provided food and a livelihood for generations of settlers.
Apples often appeared in Medieval and Renaissance artwork to symbolize contemptuous earthly desires and denote the fall of mankind (there’s that old Adam and Eve story again). It was also used as a symbol of love and sexuality, of youth and immortality, and rather conversely as a momento mori, an object meant to remind you of your mortality and inevitable death. And let us not forget the slew of still life paintings that feature apples: I don’t know what all those Spanish and Flemish still life painters would have done without them! But it didn’t stop there – where would we be without Paul Cézanne’s apples? Cézanne painted hundreds upon hundreds of apples, developing a new approach to form that inspired artists like Matisse, Picasso, and many other twentieth century artists. He is famously quoted as saying “I will astonish Paris with an apple!” after all.
If you’d like to participate in the challenge, all you need to do is create a new recipe and submit it through a link form below (no more emailing!). Please be sure to link up to this page and mention the SOS Challenge in your blog post. And feel free to use the SOS badge, too!
Then just add your name and a title for your recipe to the form below. Your link will automatically display a photo and will direct readers to your blog. We’ll leave the form open until the end of the month, just in time for the next SOS Challenge!
Please remember to follow the rules – vegan, no refined sugars, and natural, whole foods ingredients only – or at the very least, make sure you offer reliable substitutions for those things in your recipe if you use something else. Entries that don’t meet these requirements will be removed from the linky list.
We look forward to seeing what you create this month, and check back often to see all the great submissions to this month’s SOS challenge!
Note: We appreciate your submissions and would like to include them all, but sometimes have to remove an entry from the list. The most common reasons are:
No link to this post. Even if you mention the SOS Challenge in your post, without a live link to this post, the entry doesn’t qualify.
You link to an old recipe. We only accept recipes that are created for the challenge.
You include ingredients that aren’t part of the challenge. Most often, the inclusion of cane sugar (UNrefined evaporated cane juice is okay, but not regular sugars), eggs, cow’s milk, or other animal products will disqualify an entry.
If none of these applies to you and your entry was removed, please contact me in case a mistake has been made! Thanks, eveyone!
I hope you’re all having a great long weekend! I am thoroughly enjoying the last vestiges of the summer holiday. (What?? Summer is over? Back to school and sweaters and crinkly leaves on the ground and pelting rain and mud and paw prints all over the carpet and frigid mornings and seeing your breath as you huddle toward the car–in the dark–and cranking up the heat and pulling out the jackets and scarves and gloves and snow–snow!–and ah, me, it’s winter and—)
Sigh. Sorry about that little outburst. I’ve regained my composure, now.
Besides, now that I’m an adult (chronologically, anyway), I do realize that autumn isn’t all bad. There’s the flavorful fall produce, and hand knit sweaters (which are so good at covering up those midsection lumps and bumps) and corduroy, and crisp, fresh air that sharpens everything, as if the houses and trees and automobiles have been outlined with a thin tracing of ink.
Oh, and a bevvy of holidays.
When I was growing up, we shared a duplex with my aunt’s family just upstairs. Because Aunty M (no relation to The Wizard of Oz) was almost 20 years older than my mom, and because our grandparents had died before we were born, we kids always thought of Aunty M as more ”grandmother” than “aunt.” And let me tell you, nothing could compare to holidays at Grandma’s house.
The otherwise utilitarian kitchen table, a long wooden rectangle stained and etched from years of daily use, would be pushed into the living room (there was no dining room), with what looked like its metal-and-plastic progeny–the folding card table–set beside it (that was where the kids sat, of course). Freshly laundered and pressed white tablecloths were shaken out and smoothed into place, intersecting lines permanently engrained in their weave from having sat, folded neatly in blocks in the linen closet, for the remainder of the year.
On these occasions, my real grandmother’s silverware was fetched from the basement, a lone “K” engraved proudly on the handle of each knife, fork and spoon. We had actual napkins at the table for once, and soda (or “ginger ale,” as we referred to all types of carbonated beverages) was served in glass pitchers rather than directly from the plastic bottles. Glasses were set out and glistened, scalloped pickle plates were laid out, and the entire house began to buzz with anticipation.
My mother and my aunt would spend days preparing in the kitchen as we children wandered in and out, plucking raisins from cookie dough or absconding with whole chunks of semisweet chocolate. We’d peek at the huge pots like mysterious cauldrons bubbling and spurting on the stovetop, never venturing too close. At same time, the oven toiled all day as it transformed jiggly pans into cakes, cookies, or kugels, warming the kitchen and spreading the aroma of chocolate, cinnamon, vanilla and apple throughout the house.
Holidays were family occasions, shared with as many relatives as possible. I loved it when my cousin CBC and her family made the trek from Boston, since her kids were close to my age and their arrival always meant days filled with giggling, plays in the back yard, a co-conspirator with whom to tease the CFO, and extra treats for everyone. Despite anything that had preceded, the holiday dinners themselves were always happy affairs; adults were jovial and relaxed, we kids were allowed to indulge in second helpings of dessert, and everyone embraced the festive atmosphere. Whether it was a holiday, anniversary, or birthday celebration, we all came together to enjoy each other’s company along with the feast.
(When the HH and I were first together, I was both shocked and appalled to discover that he grew up in a home that didn’t celebrate holidays. No big family gatherings; no special meals; no gifts. “All days are special,” was his (otherwise normal) dad’s philosophy. “Every day is a holiday.” In fact, the HH was so accustomed to his family’s indifference about such things that he didn’t bother to get me a birthday present that first year we shared a house. Oh, yes. Hysteria [mine] ensued. Contrition [his] followed closely behind. And no, he hasn’t made the same mistake since.)
This year, I was feeling a little disheartened at the prospect of those imminent celebrations and Christmas just around the corner (for which I now supply a list of desired items to the HH every year) precisely because food has always played such an integral role in our family gatherings. I hadn’t anticipated still being on the ACD by now, you see. No feasting? No wine with dinner? No–dessert?!
It was almost enough to make me jump on the HH’s ”let’s just ignore the date” bandwagon. But then I realized two things: first, we could still make the days special. We can still set a beautiful table and make a point of sharing the evening with friends or family. We can still enjoy nature’s bounty. And I can still enjoy special-occasion foods; they just won’t be the same ones I used to eat as a child.
In fact, once I began to think about it, I was amazed at how many foods have found their way back into my diet.
First, there was chocolate–albeit unsweetened–but chocolate nonetheless. In Stage Two, the ACD gave me fruit. Previously forbidden apples (and pears, and berries, and peaches and nectarines) were welcomed back to the menu. Finally, as the symptoms continue to abate (they’re about 95% cleared up, now) the universe continues to bestow more and more low glycemic sweeteners. And the Universe said, “Let there be coconut sugar. And with it, let there be the occasional agave nectar.” And so, life is good.
This pear and cranberry cornmeal cake is the first cake I concocted with coconut sugar. Since corn is so often a symbol of autumn harvest, I thought cornmeal would be a perfect ingredient to include in this celebration dessert. Like the coconut sugar, corn is an “occasional” food on the ACD. Pears are abundant right now, and cranberries are quintessential harbingers of the holidays and the festive season.
Like sparklers on a birthday cake, the cranberries in this moist, dense sweet add glitter and verve, a tangy counterpart to the smooth sweetness of the pear chunks dotted throughout. The cake presents a surprisingly fine crumb, and the addition of lemon zest brightens everything. In fact, this dessert was so good that I took a first bite and immediately thought, “Oh, no, I’m not supposed to be eating this on the ACD” before realizing that “Oh, yes, I am allowed this on the ACD!”
Well, in moderation. It is a special occasion food, after all. But then again, despite what the HH’s father may have thought, it’s not every day we celebrate a holiday.
For those of you who celebrate, have a Happy Rosh Hashanah!
I thought this cake would be an ideal submission to Amy’s Slightly Indulgent Tuesdays event. Hop over and take a look at all the other delicious creations!
DDD News and Updates:
There’s a New (FREE!) Ebook from the lovely Alisa of Go Dairy Free and One Frugal Foodie. When she noticed the sorry state of back-to-school foods in her area, Alisa decided to do something about it and recruited a group of food bloggers to contribute recipes for an e-cookbook. The book, Smart School Time Recipes, contains over 125 recipes (a few from yours truly!) for healthy, kid-friendly breakfasts, snacks, lunches and more! You can download the cookbook directly from Alisa’s blog, here. Have I mentioned that it’s FREE?
And don’t forget there’s my new ebook, Desserts without Compromise, for $9.95 (available here). Or buy both ebooks for just $16.95. Great for holiday meals and desserts if you’re on a special diet!
I also wrote a guest post last week for Amy’s blog, Simply Sugar and Gluten Free. Amy’s recipes and mine have a lot in common. Somehow the perfect recipe match brought to mind the perfect life partner. . . so that’s what I wrote about! Check out the post here. I had lots of fun writing it.
DDD Gets Around:
Again this week, I’ve been honored that several DDD recipes were prepared or mentioned by other bloggers or writers! Here are some of the recipes you’ve all made or blogged about:
Did you cook up something from the blog or one of my cookbooks? Let me know if I’ve missed your post and I’ll add it next time! (for cookbook recipes, please ask permission before posting).
Pear and Cranberry Cornmeal Cake (suitable for ACD Stage 3 and beyond)
This cake is the perfect combination of light yet substantial with sweet yet tart. It’s a great way to end a meal or carry you through in between one to the next. Feel free to substitute apples for the pears here.
1/3 cup (80 ml) coconut sugar
1/2 to 1 tsp (2.5 to 5 ml) pure stevia powder (I used NuNaturals)
3/4 cup (360 ml) unsweetened plain or vanilla almond or soy milk
1 tsp (5 ml) apple cider vinegar
1 Tbsp (15 ml) finely ground chia seeds
2 tsp (10 ml) pure vanilla extract
zest of one lemon
1/4 cup (60 ml) coconut oil, preferably organic, melted
1-1/2 cups (200 g) Bob’s Red Mill all purpose gluten free flour (or your own blend)
1/4 cup (35 g) brown rice flour
1 Tbsp (15 ml) baking powder
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) baking soda
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) fine sea salt
3/4 tsp (7.5 ml) xanthan gum
1/2 cup (85 g) cornmeal, preferably organic
2 pears, cored and diced (I didn’t bother to peel, but go ahead if you wish)
1 cup (240 ml) fresh or frozen cranberries
Preheat oven to 350F (180C). Line a ten inch (25 cm) flan pan, springrorm pan or pie plate with parchment, or spray with nonstick spray.
In a medium bowl, whisk together the coconut sugar, stevia, milk, vinegar, chia, vanilla and lemon zest until the sugar has dissolved. Add the coconut oil and whisk to blend. Set aside.
In a large bowl, sift the all purpose flour, rice flour, baking powder, baking soda, sea salt and xanthan gum. Add the cornmeal and stir together to distribute everything evenly.
Pour the wet mixture over the dry and stir to blend well. Fold in the pears and cranberries. Turn the batter into prepared pan and gently smooth the top. Bake in preheated oven for 35-45 minutes, rotating the pan about halfway through, until a tester inserted in the middle comes out clean. Serve warm or at room temperature. Makes 8-10 servings. May be frozen.
