[Sometimes, you just want a dish that's quick and easy--no fuss. 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 simple to make that no recipe is required. Here's today's "Flash in the Pan." (For other FitP recipes, see "Categories" at right).]
I know that every gluten free baker has her or his own favorite GF “mix.” Some like a more starch-based mix; some like a more protein-based one. My first approach (for these pancakes) was to combine a little of each type of gluten free flour (that is, the grains, the legumes and the starches), but of course there are also nut flours and coconut to contend with these days. This is why I love gluten-free baking so much: the possibilities are endless!
While I’m neither a chemist nor an official pastry chef (though I did take some courses in our local chef’s program–so much fun!), I’ve got more than 40 years’ experience baking in the kitchen, first with Mom, then on my own, now with The Girls giving me their intense, blink-free “border collie stare“ whenever I pull out the food processor. (“Well, duh, Mum! Remember Pavlov? We’ve figured out that the processor usually means there will be something for us when you’re through.“) Using the final product as my gauge, I recently came up with a new gluten free all-purpose mix of my own that I replaced one-for-one instead of wheat all-purpose flour in existing recipes. I’ve now made cupcakes, pancakes, waffles and cookies, and they’ve all come out great!
What’s the reasoning behind my mix? Well, first off, I knew the major grain would be millet. I rarely eat wholegrain millet on its own, but I find that millet flour provides the same mild, neutral base as wheat flour–it holds up well with intense flavorings and is unassuming enough to serve as a perfect foil for delicate flavors like lemon or vanilla. I also wanted to include a bean-based flour for its higher protein content, plus starch. My favorite starch these days is potato starch since it’s grain-free and, I find, serves very much the same purpose that cornstarch did in my glutenous baking. I combined it with arrowroot, which is a little lighter than the potato.
To determine the flour ratios, I decided to check out the protein content in regular (wheat) flour and try to approximate the same in my mix. I knew that gluten-free flours don’t produce the same results as wheat unless combined, but also that gluten is, itself, a protein.
According to Fine Cooking magazine, all-purpose wheat flour contains 9-12% protein. Millet flour weighs in about the same. So, of my remaining flours, I wanted a similar protein content of about 10-15%, just like the wheat (and the millet). Bean flour contains more like 20-25% protein, and starches have almost nil. So, I reasoned, the half of the mix that is millet already approximates the composition of wheat flour; and the bean flour should be measured out to about half the other two combined (to decrease its protein content by half, to about 12%). In other words, for each 1 part millet, I needed 1/3 garfava and 1/3 each of potato and arrowroot. And–voila!–I had the ratio for a perfect gluten free all-purpose mix.
My first thing I made was the Toasted Coconut Cupcakes from Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World, pictured above. The result: an incredibly moist, tender crumb and fabulous chocolate-coconut flavor.
Next up: pancakes! I made my own Fluffy Fruited Pancakes from this blog using my all-purpose mix along with 1/2 tsp xanthan gum instead of the spelt. The HH gobbled these up in record time:
I also made another batch of my Carob Refrigerator Cookies with the new flour, as well as buckwheat waffles for breakfast this morning (though we gobbled them up before I could snap a pic, they looked just like the ones I made last time, below).
As a rule, I still love using different blends of gluten-free flours for my current baking. After all, I don’t always want a totally neutral flavor–sometimes I’d like the quinoa, or amaranth, to shine through. On the other hand, I’d love to be able to revamp all of the spelt-based recipes on this blog, one by one. . . and this is the all-purpose flour I’ll use to do it.
Do you have a great all-purpose gluten free mix that you use? Which one is it? Feel free to share a link or the recipe in the comments!
This is a great basic all-purpose gluten free flour mix that you can use anywhere you’d use all-purpose wheat flour, in the same proportion. For recipes that require pastry or bread flour, you might like to play around with the ratios or even use other flours instead of one of the ones listed here. I haven’t added xanthan gum since some people avoid it, but I generally include 1/2-3/4 tsp (2.5-3.5 ml) xanthan per cup when I bake with this flour.
2 cups (270 g) millet flour
2/3 cup (100 g) garfava flour (you can use chickpea instead)
2/3 cup (120 g) potato starch
2/3 cup (90 g) arrowroot starch or powder (or substitute tapioca or cornstarch)
Place all ingredients in a large bowl and stir with a whisk until the flour is evenly blended. Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator if you won’t be using it within a week or 10 days (will keep up to 6 weeks in the fridge). Measure as you would wheat-based all-purpose flour. Makes 4 cups.
[No, this isn't the fudge. But it does look darned tasty, doesn't it?]
Well, I had a nifty little “Flash in the Pan” post drawn up yesterday so I could share my new all-purpose GF flour mix, the one I used to make these coconut cupcakes, above. After writing the post, I went back to my kitchen to leaf through my enormous pile of paper scraps on which I scribble recipes as I create them. I leafted through every single one of these little scraps. . . four times. And yet, somehow, I’ve lost the recipe! Serves me right for sticking with my chaotic, haphazard cooking methods. Grrrrr!
[I know you're in there somewhere. . . .]
So. . . . I’ll be re-testing my recipe (what I rememeber of it) over the next few days. Once I manage to re-create it, I’ll let you know.
In the meantime, I could really use some fudge.
The summer I was sixteen, I played mother’s helper to my cousins in Boston. Their oldest child was only 3 years younger than I was, but the chasm between a 16 year-old girl and a 13 year-old boy seemed enough to warrant a babysitter. In reality, I didn’t do very much except keep the kids company as they swung on tree branches, swam in the local pond, played with their Hot Wheels or hit baseballs in the back yard. Mostly, I wanted to interact with my cousins (so much older than I was, then in their 30s!) and help in the kitchen. I loved the food my cousin cooked and began to carry an orange spiral notebook around with me to record recipes I loved: Chili and Grape Meatballs, Tunnel of Fudge Bundt cake, Sock-it-To-Me Coffee Cake.
[A relic from my teenaged past.]
And then there came Irene’s Fudge-Topped Chocolate Cake.
Irene was my cousin’s mother-in-law, a powerhouse of a woman who, at age 91, was still going strong: she lived on her own in the same upper duplex she’d inhabited for almost 70 years. She still cooked all her own meals from scratch and baked desserts to bring to the grandchildren each weekend. Visiting Irene’s brownstone in Newton was like entering a time transporter: we’d ascend the 47 creaky steps and emerge, panting and breathless à la Star Trek, into a dimension of time and space that had existed unscathed 70 years before.
I was fascinated by everything in the place, from the vast collection of porcelain dolls–apparently, she had more than 100–in various poses and handmade costumes, lounging on shelves throughout the living room; to the French Provincial furniture, its glossy embroidery worn to mere threads; to the scuffed wooden floors sporting visible reminders of decades of children and grandchildren, dogs and cats, who’s skidded along their boards; to the ancient white-and-black oven and array of manually-operated to appliances like hand-held beaters or nut chopper (acquired before she had electricity), whisks, oil-stained wooden spoons and glass measuring cups so old their walls clouded up in places, no longer transparent.
Irene herself seemed a life-sized version of the dolls she collected, a human Betty Boop with hand-painted arching eyebrows and porcupine-quill lashes atop an ivory-powdered visage (which she applied daily until she died, at age 101). She was always adorned in gleaming, mismatched combinations of billboard-bright colors cinched together with a wildly patterned belt and rows of beaded necklaces swishing down to her waist. The whole package was topped off with a daily wig in impossibly copper hues. A true eccentric, Irene welcomed her grandkids with great joy and always had something sweet to offer us when we dropped by. With a voice both gravelly and halting, she ushered us into the kitchen, where we invariably spied a plateful of still-warm chocolate chip cookies, or a pan of blondies, or–when we were really lucky–fudge-topped chocolate cake.
That cake was her signature confection, a deep, rich and dense single-layer sheet cake slathered with a thick layer of rich, fudgy, sweet and chocolatey topping. I was so impressed with it that I asked for the recipe so I could add it to my spiral collection; Irene was more than happy to comply.
[Sweet!]
Once I returned home at the end of the summer, I was impatient to make the cake. I had brought My-T-Fine pudding mix (the cooked kind, not instant) home with me (you can’t get the stuff in Canada) and went to work. I mixed, I whipped, I salivated, I licked the beaters. I covered the cake with fudge topping and popped it in the refrigerator.
And then. . . . . nothing but mud! The fudge wouldn’t firm up no matter what I tried.
Was it my callow inexperience in the ktichen? But I’d been baking since I was six years old! Could it be that my mother’s 11×14 inch pan wasn’t the exact size Irene had specified? Or perhaps our eggs, or milk, or oil way up in The Frozen North was too different from the ones back in Massachusetts? After several attempts, I enlisted the help of my aunt (who had been a professional caterer). When she failed, too, I finally accepted the bitter reality: Irene had not shared the true recipe. (As it turned out, any recipe she did share with nieces, or cousins, or sisters over the years always fell flat; no one could manage to reproduce her results.) Despite her whimsical appearance, her jolly Grandma persona, her generosity sharing the fruits of her labors, Irene turned out to be one of those women who didn’t want to share the culinary spotlight. When she died, with almost a century of baking under her (crazy colored) belt, she took her secrets wtih her.
This fudge, my second entry in this month’s SOS Kitchen Challenge (don’t forget to enter your own recipes–you can win a copy of my latest ebook OR a bottle of pure maple syrup!) reminded me of that long-ago topper, both in its sweetness and its texture: the perfectly smooth, authentic mouthfeel of fudge, with a thin exterior “skin” that firms up for slicing. With its indentations and creases from the plastic wrap, it may not truly resemble Irene’s masterpiece, but it was a savior for me in the early stages of the ACD, as it’s suitable for any stage of the diet, including the first one. The recipe is from my ebook Desserts without Compromiseand was a huge hit with the testers.
Go out and make this fudge. You can even pour it over a sheet cake and dream of another summer, long ago, as you munch on the fudge-topped slices. It’s easy to make. And it always works, I promise.
Carob Fudge
This is the recipe to make a carob lover out of someone who may be waffling about the appeal of the lovely pod. You can cut the carob with a little cocoa if you want a hint of chocolate, or just enjoy it on its own for a sweet, rich, subtle flavor. If you make this with glycerin, it will produce a more typical, soft fudge texture; if you use yacon, it will provide a lovely flavor of its own, but the base will seem thicker and dryer and more candy-like.
1/2 cup (120 ml) carob powder, sifted
1/4 cup (60 ml) coconut oil, preferaby organic (use refined if you don’t want the coconut flavor)
NOTE: the order of ingredients here is essential to the success of the fudge–please read through directions completely before mixing!
Line a small loaf pan with plastic wrap and set aside.
In a small, heavy-bottomed pot, mix the carob powder, coconut oil, tahini, almond butter and sea salt. Heat over medium-low heat, stirring constantly, just until melted and well-combined (it will seem too dry at first and then liquefy; this is as it should be).
Remove from heat and stir in the vanilla and stevia, THEN add the glycerin or yacon and mix well. It will begin to thicken up when you add the sweetener (glycerin will produce a smooth, still pourable mixture, while yacon will seem to sieze up the mixture, resulting in an almost dough-like result; this is fine).
Pour or press the fudge into the pan and smooth the top. Refrigerate until firm, at least 2 hours, then cover with plastic wrap and store in the refrigerator. Will keep, covered in the refrigerator, up to 4 days. May be frozen; defrost, wrapped, overnight in the fridge before cutting.
As someone who follows an anti-candida, sugar-free, gluten-free, vegan diet, I’ve encountered my share of skepticism. Every time I tell someone about my dietary restrictions, I’m hit with either incredulity (“But what’s left to eat?“), pity (“Oh, you poor thing! You must miss real food!”) or derision (“hmm, yeah, bet you just love eating that cardboard, eh?”). But skepticism is probably the worst of the lot (“Well, there is actually no such thing as candida syndrome, so it’s probably just in your head. What you need is to go out and eat a big piece of real chocolate cake with eggs and gluten and sugar, and drink a big glass of wine.”).
Luckily, the HH never responded like so many others and has always been very tolerant of my erratic swings in diet (and mood, but that’s a totally different reason why I love him). In fact, whenever he encounters someone who voices skepticism about the value of a whole-foods, refined sugar-free diet, he tells the story of his brush with high blood pressure, back during my year at nutrition school.
You see, the HH is the kind of person who has never had a weight problem; he could eat whatever he wanted without any apparent consequences. (Once, in his twenties, he consumed three full dinners in the space of one evening: first, he ate a regular dinner at home with his parents; then he visited his best friend, whose mother offered him dinner. Being the well-raised boy he was, of course he couldn’t refuse. After enjoying roast beef, green beans, and potatoes with gravy, the guys met up with a third pal, a chef who invited them back to his apartment for a late dinner. Well, you don’t very well say “no” to dinner from a chef, do you? So yet another repast of pasta with smoked salmon and vodka, peas and crème brulée was had as well.). The HH is also fearless about trying any food of animal origin, no matter how weird (seriously–body parts, internal organs, what-have-you); but ask him to sample sea veggies, or daikon, or fiddleheads, and he cowers in the corner.
Anyway, about halfway through my stint at nutrition school, I arranged for us to undergo full physical exams with our family doctor. (I was curious to see whether my über-healthy NAG diet had affected my myriad physical problems). In typically male fashion, the HH hadn’t been to the doctor since before he’d met me.
Well, wouldn’t you know it, after weighing and prodding for a few minutes, with typical beside manner, the doctor pronounced, “HH,* you are definitely overweight, and you also have high blood pressure.” At 6’1″ or 185.4 cm, he weighed just over 200 lbs/90.72 kg, with a BP of 151/90. (My blood tests, on the other hand, all came back great, with blood pressure an ideal 110/70. And my irritable bowel (IBS) symptoms had entirely disappeared; in fact, that appointment marked the first step in weaning off my medication, which I’d taken for 16 years by then. Wa-hoo!).
Needless to say, Ms. Doctor wanted to prescribe high blood pressure medication–stat. She told the HH that he was lucky to catch it so quickly, and since he was at the lower end of the “high blood pressure” spectrum, he wouldn’t need a really strong dosage. She pulled out her little prescription pad and began to scribble when the HH interjected.
“Well, you know,” he offered, “Ric is doing this holistic nutrition program right now. . . how would it be if I get her to design a special diet for me that could lower my blood pressure?”
At this, the doctor chortled and let out a little snort. Let me just say: I really like our family doctor. She’s young, she’s empathic, she listens to all my hypochondriacal tales of woe, and she knows her stuff. But her response at that moment was nothing short of cliché:
“Well, your diet won’t really have any effect on it, though I guess you could cut out red meat and alcohol. But if you are determined to go ahead, we can give it a month or so, since your levels aren’t all that serious yet. Why don’t you come back in six weeks, and we can start you on the meds then.”
I’m sure you can guess what happened. For the first (and only) time, I had full control over what the HH ate! FULL CONTROL!! Muahahahaha! I immediately vetoed all animal products, alcohol, and coffee. (This was back in the early days of our relationship, when the HH was still starry-eyed and infatuated enough with me to actually listen to what I suggested). No more wine with dinner. No more cheeseburgers with heaps of mayonnaise. No more triple lattes with full cream. No more shortening-heavy Tim Horton’s Carrot-Walnut muffins first thing in the morning at the office every day.
Ah, yes, it was an idyllic time for me: we nibbled on tofu scramble, vegan quiche, or sweet potato pancakes with homefries for brunch on the weekends, gazing lovingly at each other as we sipped our green tea. For lunch, the HH took packaged beet and quinoa salad, leftover Bangkok noodles, or sandwiches made with whole grain flour and tempeh bacon. We discussed our workdays over our favorite almond-curry stir-fry for dinner. The HH brought home-bakedmuffins to the office each morning, and the rest of the day, he consumed more green than Dorothy ever saw in Emerald City. He drank herbal tea with me in the evenings, scooped up berry sorbet for dessert, and even quaffed the occasional green smoothie. (Okay, I made up that last one. He’s always hated green smoothies).
After 6 weeks, he dutifully returned to the doctor’s office. The verdict? He had (effortlessly) lost 25 pounds (11.4 kg) and his blood pressure had returned to normal! (The doctor’s response: “Well, it’s great that things are better, but I’m sure it had nothing to do with your diet.”)**
These days, the HH isn’t quite so devoted to a vegan diet any more (it took a couple of years, but he slowly re-introduced meat, cream, coffee, wine–well, basically, everything I’d cut out). Still, he has managed to maintain a healthy weight and blood pressure. The one food he didn’t reject, however, was a homemade muffin each morning. In fact, when I first began the ACD a couple of years ago, I didn’t bake at all for the first few months, and the HH sorely missed his morning muffin.
When I read that Johanna was hosting this month’s Breakfast Club event with Savory Breakfasts as the theme, I decided to bake up something a little different for the HH’s morning coffee break. These muffins are moist and dense, with pockets of oven-dried tomato, dotted with green onion slices and flecks of fresh herbs scattered throughout. The flavor is robust without being too grain-heavy in flavor. They’re perfect warmed up with a bit of coconut butter or even a dollop of tahini. In fact, you don’t have to save these for breakfast–they’d be great alongside a savory stew or chili as well.
The HH reported that he really enjoyed the muffins for breakfast. In fact, when he first sampled them straight out of the oven, I turned my back for just a moment to find that two had already been eaten before I could snap a couple of photos for the blog. “Ah, just bake more,” was his reply. “These are good.” Of course I was happy to oblige, knowing that my homemade muffins are far superior to anything he might purchase on the way to work. Maybe one day, I’ll get him to start taking lunches of tofu scramble and quinoa salad back to the office again, too.
“Mum, those muffins look great! You know that we need to eat healthy whole grains too, right? But why did you have to add those darned onions, when we’re not allowed to eat them?”
*She didn’t actually call him, “HH,” of course. But you probably guessed as much.
**There is a coda to the story as well: a few months after the HH’s second appointment, I was wrapping up paperwork for a cooking class in my home and noticed a familiar name on the list. It was my doctor’s! She ended up taking two classes from me, and these days, is happy to suggest dietary changes for her patients, alongside classic medications.
Savory Muffins with Herbs, Oven-Dried Tomatoes and Green Onions
These are great with tofu scramble, quiche, or as a quick breakfast on their own slathered with almond butter. If you’re not on the anti-candida diet or don’t have the time, simply substitute regular sundried tomatoes that have been soaked in boiling water for 5 minutes, then drained and chopped, for the oven dried tomatoes.
1/2 cup (120 ml) pumpkin or squash purée (I used butternut squash)
2 Tbsp (30 ml) tahini (sesame seed paste)
1-1/4 to 1-1/3 cups (300-320 ml) unsweetened almond, soy, or hemp milk (use larger amount if batter is dry)
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) apple cider vinegar
2 Tbsp (30 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
3 Tbsp (45 ml) finely ground flax seeds
1/2 cup (120 ml) oven-dried tomatoes (recipe under “ACD Friendly Version” of this post), cut in half, or 1/3 cup (80 ml) sundried tomatoes, soaked in boiling water for 5 minutes, drained and chopped
2-3 green onions, sliced (white and light green parts only)
1/4 cup (60 ml) chopped fresh herbs (I used a combination of parsely and dill)
1/2 cup (70 g) sorghum flour
3/4 cup (90 g) millet flour
1/2 cup (55 g) garfava flour
1 Tbsp (15 ml) arrowroot or potato starch
3/4 tsp (3.5 ml) xanthan gum
2-1/4 tsp (12 ml) baking powder
3/4 tsp (7.5 ml) baking soda
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) fine sea salt
Preheat oven to 350F (190C). Line a muffin pan with 9 paper liners, or spray with nonstick spray.
In a medium bowl, whisk together the pumpkin and tahini until smooth. Slowly add the milk and mix well, then stir in the vinegar, oil and flaxseeds. Gently stir in the tomatoes, onions and herbs to distribute. Set aside while you measure the dry ingredients, or at least 3 minutes.
In a large bowl, sift together the millet flour, sorghum flour, garfava flour, arrowroot, xanthan gum, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Stir to mix well. Add the wet mixture to the dry and stir gently just to mix (do not overmix or the muffins may not rise properly). The batter will be too thick to pour, but still moist (like a thick muffin batter). If it’s too dry, add a tablespoon or 2 more milk.
Using a large ice cream scoop or 1/3 cup measuring cup, spoon batter evenly into prepared muffin cups. Bake in preheated oven for 30-35 minutes, rotating the pan once about halfway through, until a center muffin tests done. Allow to cool 5 minutes before removing to a cooling rack. Makes 9 muffins. May be frozen.
And don’t forget: You have until the end of the month to submit a carob-based recipe for this month’s SOS Kitchen Challenge! We’ll be giving out two prizes in honor of our one-year anniversary of the event–submit a recipe and you’re automatically entered!
Ah, summer. How I remember the long, languid, carefree days infused with sunshine. The kind of brightness that shimmers in mid-afternoon air, making the trees, the leaves, even the parked cars look as if they’re trembling with sheer joy. Easy living, with no boots or jackets or scarves or sweaters. Being able to think, “oh, I forgot to buy lemons,” and–just like that–grabbing your car keys and heading straight into the car, just as you were, and you’re gone. The easy pace of traffic, whittled to a third of its usual volume as everyone is off to the country or busy playing tourist in other cities when the weather is fair. Easy cooking, with juicy summer fruits and crisp, exotic greens and–as often as you can stand it–ice cream.
Ah, yes, I remember it well. . . easy, breezy, beautiful Cover Girl SUMMER. What a shame it refuses to reveal its shiny face just yet in Toronto (another day of rain. Sob).
Now, I wouldn’t want you to get the wrong idea about me or anything, but in summers past, one of my favorite pleasures was a good, cold, frosty gin and tonic. While I was never much of an alcohol drinker (I might have a glass of wine with dinner once or twice a month), when it came to summer, I loved sitting out in the sun on the patio with a big book and an equally big G&T. During the solstice season, the HH and I have a tradition of heading north for a long weekend. For the past 14 years, every summer we’ve taken the 2-1/2 hour trek up Highway 400 to our favorite country resort.* Once there, we spend the days soaking up the rays by the pool, reading all the books we couldn’t get to during the rest of the year, filling out the massive Globe and Mail crossword, and drinking gin and tonics.
It was bliss, I tell you.
(“Mum, what’s a gin and tonic? Because if we have to slurp one up to spend time in that pool, we’re on it!”)
Because of the ACD, however, I haven’t partaken of any kind of alcoholic beverage for over 2-1/2 years now. No wine with dinner. No Kalhua in my coffee (and no coffee, either, for that matter). No G&Ts by the resort pool. And, most certainly, no Bloody Caesars.
Perhaps that’s why I named today’s salad “Muddy” Caesar–the name brought to mind that erstwhile summertime cocktail, and the thought of summer was enough on its own to perk up my day. Or maybe it’s because the dressing resembles mud; a little gray, a splash of brown, a dollop of clay. Or, maybe, I just liked the sound of it.
Whatever the case, this is a great summer salad. Along with fresh fruits, homemade ice cream, frozen lattes and (in days of yore) gin and tonics, salads are staple summer fare in the DDD household. In fact, I’m sure that for many of us, the word “summer” is tantamount to “salad.” Not only are they quick to prepare and abundant this time of year, they are raw, which means no added heat on those steamy July afternoons; they are light, which means you can get out and play that much faster after eating them (or go swimming without that 30-minute wait period your parents always told you was essential); and they are jam-packed with antioxidants and phytonutrients that will provide all the free-radical fighting and nutrient density you need to frolick all day long in the sun. And while I wasn’t a huge salad fan as a child, I have come to really appreciate the veggie-and-dressing mix in recent years.
I’ve been aiming for a lower-fat diet the past few weeks (anything to vanquish those crazy extra pounds), so I’ve eliminated added oils in many of my recipes. This dressing worked out beautifully; no oil added, or needed, with avocado providing all the creaminess you can imagine. The usual pungency of Caesar dressing is achieved with the addition of a few cured black olives (thereby creating the salad’s muddy countenance), and the combination of garlic and lemon juice provides some bite and tang as you’d expect from this classic dish. Topped with ground pine nuts to simulate grated parmesan, you’ve got a Caesar facsimile that will please everyone.
Now, if only the weather would cooperate, you could eat this out by the pool, beverage of choice in hand.
*sadly, the place been slowly going downhill for years, and last summer was the worst. We’ve decided we can’t go back. Anyone know of a great resort north of Toronto?
[I snapped the photo before sprinkling with pine nuts. . .but did remember to add them before eating.]
Muddy Caesar Salad
This dressing is remarkably thick and creamy, even without added oil. The zucchini provide substance and moisture, but you won’t taste it in the final product. I haven’t used croutons here to avoid extra starches, but feel free to sprinkle the final salad with croutons of your choice for a more traditional Caesar-like salad.
For the Salad:
1 small head romaine lettuce, torn in bite-sized chunks
1 medium tomato, cut into bite-sized pieces
2 green onions, white and light green parts, sliced
For the Dressing:
1/2 small zucchini (about 4 ounces or 110 g), thickly sliced
1 small avocado, peeled, pitted and cut in chunks
2 small cloves garlic or 1 large clove
3 Tbsp (45 ml) freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 tsp (5 ml) apple cider vinegar (or use more lemon juice for ACD Stage 1)
5-10 drops plain liquid stevia, to your taste
1 Tbsp (15 ml) mellow white or yellow miso
8 oil-cured black olives, pitted
1/4-1/2 cup (60-120 ml) water, as needed
1/4 cup (60 ml) ground pine nuts
Make the salad: place all ingredients in a large salad bowl; set aside while you mix up the dressing.
Make the dressing: Place all ingredients except pine nuts in a powerful blender and blend until smooth and creamy. Add water to reach desired texture (it should be thick and creamy, like a thick sour cream). Spoon about half the dressing over the salad to start; toss until all the leaves are coated in dressing. You may add more if you prefer a more thickly dressed salad; if not, store remaining dressing in a closed jar or container in the refrigerator for up to 3 days. Sprinkle with ground pine nuts before servings. Makes 4-6 servings.
[Grab a few of these babies and while away the afternoon. . . . ]
Seriously, what more do you need than the word “bon bons” in a recipe title to know you want to make these asap?
Still need more? Okay, then, how about this:
NO-COOK!
EASY!
QUICK!
GINGER SNAP!
LOW GLYCEMIC!
COOKIE DOUGH-LIKE FILLING!
AMAZING COCONUT-CINNAMON COATING!!
I ATE SIX OF THEM IN LESS THAN 10 MINUTES!!!
(Oh, wait. Did I say that last one out loud?)
I got the inspiration for these little balls of bliss from the recent Raw Cake Pop event co-hosted by Lisa of Vegan Culinary Crusade and Nicole of A Dash of Compassion. I was late to the party and didn’t have a chance to enter the event, but just looking at all those innovative cake pops made me want to try my own hand at these confections. Even missing the necessary equipment (just imagine they’re beckoning from atop a lollypop stick), I forged ahead anyway. As soon as I saw Deanna’s raw cake pops, each irresistible orb in its own shiny white coat(ing), I knew I’d use that for my recipe, too. But what about the all-important interior?
[And also delicious as a snack without the coating.]
While I’ve made raw chocolate chip cookie dough before and absolutely loved it, this time I wanted to go for a less common flavor (but one I love equally well). One of my all-time favorite recipes in my sugar-fheavy, pre-ACD, pre-gluten-free, pre-HH days was called Triple Ginger Cookies from that 80s and 90s staple, the Silver Palate cookbook. It’s a mélange of molasses, three kinds of ginger and loads o’ brown sugar that bakes up into chewy, crackly, intensely ginger cookies that are extremely addictive.
Without the candied ginger (or most of the other ingredients), I decided to go for the same ginger intensity. To reproduce the distinctive bite of molasses, I chose yacon syrup, which has a slightly milder flavor and not quite the same mineral undertones, but worked well nonetheless. I also added more spice to the mix, with cinnamon and a touch of cloves to balance out the ginger. These are great eaten on their own without adornment, but if you have the time and inclination, the “white chocolate” coconut coating is a showstopper. It firms up completely after a few minutes in the freezer and remains firm at room temperature, so you can line these up on a plate and serve at the end of a dinner party or on a buffet table. Or, if you’re like me, you serve them for no particular occasion at all. . .mostly because you just like the word, “bon bons.”
[A mouth-watering bite of gingery cookie dough bliss.]
Raw Gingersnap Cookie Bon Bons
The variations are endless for these yummy bites–either press into a loaf pan and cut in squares, or roll into balls and coat in “white chocolate” coating for a mind-blowingly good treat (and an impressive gift). The balls are great without the coating, too, for a healthy snack, or frost the bars with icing before cutting–either way, they won’t last long.
Cookie “dough”:
2/3 cup (110 g) raw natural almonds
2/3 cup (110 g) raw or lightly toasted cashews
2/3 cup (65 g) old-fashioned rolled oats (not instant or quick cook)
2 tsp (10 ml) cinnamon
1/4 tsp (1 ml) ground cloves
2 tsp (10 ml) whole chia seeds, measured and then ground into a powder in a coffee grinder (or use 1 heaping Tbsp/20 ml chia meal)
pinch fine sea salt
1 Tbsp (15 ml) finely grated fresh ginger pulp
2 Tbsp (30 ml) yacon syrup
50-70 drops plain or vanilla stevia liquid, to your taste (about 1/2 tsp/2.5 ml)
up to 2 Tbsp (30 ml) almond or soy milk, as needed
“White Chocolate” Coating (adapted from this recipe):
2 cups (160 g) raw unsweetened shredded coconut
2 Tbsp (30 ml) coconut oil, preferably organic
1 Tbsp (15 ml) coconut sugar (for ACD Stage 1, use more stevia)
15-25 drops plain or vanilla liquid stevia, to your taste
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) pure vanilla extract
extra cinnamon, if desired, for sprinkling
Make the dough: Place the almonds, cashews, oats, cinnamon, cloves, chia and salt in the bowl of a food processor and process until the mixture resembles a very fine meal (like a coarse cornmeal). Add the remaining ingredients and process until it begins to come together in a ball. It should look fairly dry but stick together when pinched between your thumb and fingers. Add milk only if absolutely necessary to make the dough stick together; it should not be wet.
Using a small scoop or a teaspoon, scoop the dough and form into balls. Place on a plate in the freezer to firm up and become very cold, 10-20 minutes. (Alternately, press the “dough” in the bottom of a loaf pan and refrigerate).
Prepare the coating: Place all ingredients in the container of a high-powered blender and blend until perfectly smooth and liquid, about 5 minutes, scraping down sides as necessary. Pour the mixture into a small, deep bowl. (If you don’t have a high-powered blended, you can first process the mixture in a food processor until it comes together and looks like coconut butter, up to 10 mintues. It should be loose. Transfer the coating to a regular blender and blend, in batches if necessary, until perfectly smooth and liquid. Transfer to a bowl).
Coat the bon bons: Line a large, flat plate with plastic wrap and set aside. Dip each ball in the coconut coating until it is completely covered. Scoop out carefully with a fork, and tap the fork handle on the edge of the bowl so that excess coating drips back into the bowl. Place on the plate and return to the freezer until coating is solid (about 5 minutes); then repeat the coating process once more. Sprinkle gently with cinnamon, if desired. Once the coating is hard, the bon bons may be kept in the refrigerator. Makes about 20 bon bons. Store, covered, in the refrigerator up to one week.
Thanks to everyone who entered the iHerb Shopping Spree giveaway for the chance to spend $50 at iHerb! You’ll also receive your choice of the two superfood powders from Madre Labs that I tried, either the Midori Greens OR the Acai Heart!
I’ve let random.org pick a winner, so here goes:
The winning number is 116: Bitt! Congratulations!! Here is Bitt’s comment:
[No Gluten, Get Happy: The easiest way to bake gluten-free is with no flour at all! How about Happy Hemp Two-Bite Brownies?]
Welcome to Day Nine of the blog event from Diane over at The Whole Gang, 30 Days to Easy Gluten-Free Living! The objective of this event is to show you all how easy it can be to eat gluten-free. And today, I’m going to talk about baking.
Baking, gluten-free.
Whew! I think my hair just got a new ‘do after the breeze that whooshed by as hoards of you ran for the exits! For those of you still here, grab a cup of tea, have a seat, and settle in as I explain why, after a lifetime of baking with wheat, I’ve come to love gluten-free baking even more.
In a nutshell, here are my five top tips to create amazing baked goods–all without stress, anxiety, or trauma (and of course, no gluten!).
[My first time using sweet rice flour (also called glutenous rice flour: Red Bean Pastry Cookies. You can, too! ]
1. Something New: Gluten Free
When I first learned that I’d have to adopt a gluten-free diet (as part of the anti-candida regime I’m following), I was more upset about having to give up baking than having to give up gluten per se. As someone who’d been baking since I was about six, I simply couldn’t imagine a life without delicious baked treats!
In Stage 2 of the diet, as soon as I was able to start incorporating flours back into my recipes, I pulled out one of my favorite recipes (I think it was a carrot loaf), and baked it up using brown rice flour in place of the all-purpose wheat. Hmmm. . . .can you say, “brick”? Or how about, “Crumbly, totally tasteless brick” at that!
It wasn’t until I realized that baking gluten-free is an entirely new endeavor that I finally began to learn about–and appreciate–gluten-free baking on its own merits. If I moved to Florida from here in Toronto (and believe me, deep in February, I’ve often thought about it), I wouldn’t expect to wear the same winter clothes over there, now, would I? Or if I started dating a new guy (no worries, HH, this is for illustration purposes only), I’d never expect him to have the same taste in wine, like the same music, or dance the same way as the previous beau, either. So why should gluten-free baking work exactly the same as glutenous baking? Once I “got” that reality, the rest was easy.
There’s no need to reinvent the wheel (or wheel of foccacia, either, for that matter). Whenever I begin a new enterprise, I first check out what the authorities in that field have done before me. I rely on their wisdom and experience to get me started. In the case of gluten-free baking, I began by using all-purpose mixes that would allow me to substitute one-for-one instead of wheat flour, and baked up several batches of my favorite sweets that way first. By using tried-and-true flour mixes, I knew that my baked goods would work and would give me a feel for what goes into an all-purpose gluten free flour mix.
What’s in an all-purpose mix? Well, to answer that question you’ll need to consider a bit more about glutenous versus gluten-free flour. Here are some key points:
i. Gluten-free flour has no gluten (duh).
Gluten is the protein in wheat that acts as “glue” to bind together the baked goods. It provides texture and holds things together. Without it, baked goods crumble and break apart like dried-out sandcastles on the beach. By combining different gluten-free flours in one mix, you help to alleviate that effect. (Another trick is to add a binder that replaces the gluten–see number 3, below).
ii. Wheat flour comes in only a few varieties, but varieties of gluten-free flour are almost endless.
In fact, this is one of the reasons I love baking gluten-free: most of us grow up used to the neutral, bland flavor of wheat in baked goods. Gluten free flours, on the other hand, are often derived from other grains that confer their own distinct taste. Amaranth and quinoa offer a sturdy, almost mineral flavor; buckwheat is earthy and nutty; teff resembles a combination of carob and cocoa; rice is mild and delicate; and so on. In addition, there are loads of non-grain gluten free flours; major categories are starches (cornstarch, tapioca, arrowroot, potato starch, etc.); bean and legume-based (chickpea, garfava, bean, soy, etc.); and nut based (coconut, almond meal, hazelnut, etc.). For a fairly comprehensive list of gluten-free grains, starches and flours, check this post.
iii. The best gluten-free baking uses a combination of flours. I know that some of you out there will disagree on this point, and certainly there are some gluten-free recipes that use only a single flour (often millet, sorghum, oat or almond, in my experience). But since gluten-free flours are so different from wheat and each is unique, I find that my best baking projects combine different flours depending on my mood, the recipe and the kind of result I seek.
For instance, muffins or quickbreads work better with more hearty flours such as quinoa, amaranth, or sorghum; light and delicate results follow when you use a greater percentage of starchy flours or mild-flavored grains like rice or millet; and sandy, chewy cookies seem to work best with a combination of all three main types of flours (grain, bean, starch). As you experiment in the kitchen and learn more about the types of flours, you’ll discover which flavors and textures you like best in your own baking.
But no one wants to waste ingredients while they’re learning, right? So for those who are just beginning, I’d recommend the following all-purpose mixes I’ve tried from some of my fellow gluten-free bloggers:
Maggie’s Bean Free Blend: I used this for a pie crust and it was fantastic–light, flaky, delicate.
As I mentioned above, gluten is the “glue” that helps to bind (and to a lesser extent, leaven) baked goods. As a result, the best gluten-free baking usually includes a binder meant to replace the gluten. The most common binder is eggs, but since I don’t use those, I add flax meal or other vegan egg replacers in my baking. Other binders include fruit purées, nut meals or flours, or nut butters (I tend to use nut butters more than meal; I also sometimes use seed butters, such as tahini or sunflower seed butter).
However, in recent years, most people also use xanthan gum, a powdery substance that you sift into your flours before you mix up your batter or dough, which creates results a lot like gluten in baked goods. You can also use guar gum. I’ve also seen recipes calling for agar agar (a vegan gelatin) as a binder as well, when xanthan gum isn’t used. As a general rule, most flour blends use about 1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) xanthan gum per cup of flour; for more sturdy baked goods such as muffins or scones, you may need to add a wee bit more (up to 1 tsp/5 ml per cup). I always use an egg replacer plus the xanthan gum; after all, glutenous recipes contain eggs and gluten, right?
[Yes, you can still have light-as-air, cakey Whoopie Pies, gluten-free!]
4. Lighten Up.
Gluten free flours tend to produce a slightly heavier product than wheat flour (another consequence of losing that gluten!). As a result, I always add a bit more leavener to my gluten-free creations than I used to with my wheat-based baked goods. If a wheat-based recipe calls for 1 tsp (5 ml) of baking powder per cup of all-purpose flour, with my gluten-free mix, I use 1-1/2 tsp (7.5 ml) instead (plus about 1/4 tsp (1 ml) extra baking soda for heavier flours). Again, you may need to experiment a bit as you go, but that’s a good rule to start.
Yes, pun intended: those of us who must eat gluten-free are already going with our guts, of course! But it’s also important to learn what works for you and your digestive system, then experiment until you find those ideal recipes. For me, too many starchy ingredients cause a recurrence of my candida symptoms, so as much as I love fluffy, feather-light cupcakes and cakes, I don’t bake too many of them these days. Luckily, I also love fudgy, dense chocolate brownies and cookies–and they have made several appearances on this blog since I went gluten-free.
[Hazelnut Melting Moments. . . a Divine Gluten-Free Cookie--and thank goodness that Chocolate is Gluten-Free! ]
5. Have Some Fun!
So that’s why I love gluten-free baking: it allows me to be inventive as I mix up something different each time. I can tailor the final flavor and texture to match the character of the particular baked good, whether light and airy or more substantial and dense. And I can benefit from the varied nutritional profiles of the different flours when I bake, instead of producing baked goods that all offer the same set of nutrients over and over in their flour.
Like any creative endeavor, cooking is never quite the same each time we do it; and the same is true of gluten-free baking. If you approach the task with a bit whimsy and a bit of adventureousness–like a playtime in the kitchen–you’ll find that gluten-free baking is fun, satisfying, and really easy, after all.
There will be a whole month of 30 Days to Easy Gluten-Free Living posts on Diane’s blog. Here’s a list of all the topics and contributors:
I hope everyone had (or is still having) a great Mother’s Day today! Behold what I found on the mantelpiece this morning:
Yep, for the first time ever, this year I received a card from The Girls. I guess that hintingcajolingbegginghaving temper tantrums being a loving partner all year really paid off!
But I’m not here to talk about breakfast (unless, of course, I slip in an extra mention that a copy of my breakfast ebook, Good Morning! Breakfasts, is being given away over at Tasty Eats at Home until May 14th–if you haven’t yet, go enter!). No, I’m here to talk about this month’s SOS ingredient, carob, and these amazing cookies I baked up!
Unlike many people, I’ve never really thought of carob as a replacement for chocolate (even though I did end up creating a “faux chocolate” recipe with it when I first started the ACD).
In general, I think it’s better to remain 100% of what one really is than be 75% of something or someone else. The last time I tried to imitate another person’s style was back in high school, when I donned embroidered Lee overalls, grew my hair long and painted a little flower on my cheek so I could be more like my then-idol, The Nurse. I ended up catching my hair in the overall’s buckles and losing a fairly large chunk of it. I was decidedly not a happy little hippie.
[A batch made with unsweetened carob chips added.]
Similarly, there are certain foods that are frequently considered inferior versions of something else. For years, margarine was the poor relation of butter (of course, after that it went through the very popular “cholesterol-free-even-though-hydrogenated-but-we-don’t-know-that-it’s-bad-for-you-yet-so-let’s-all-eat-margarine” phase, before it evolved to the “margarine-is-the-devil-real-butter-is-better-than-trans-fat-full-spreads” and finally “let’s-make-trans-fat-free-margarine-but-it’s-still-a-chemical-so-let’s-continue-to-eat-real-fats-once-again” phase). Or how about the debate over whether tofu can be used to impersonate meat in vegan dishes? And years ago, when I decided to enjoy Segura Viudas as a favorite Cava, I was informed rather undiplomatically by one acquaintance that “it’s not real champagne, you know.” (I did know. I loved it anyway.).
I’ve always felt kind of sorry for sweet little Carob, in fact, living life as a second-rate stand-in to cacao–sort of the way Jan was to Marsha, or Montreal is to Paris, or Lady Gaga is to Elton John (or is it Lady Gaga to Madonna? No matter–I suppose she was just born this way.).
[Simple and unadorned.]
This recipe was inspired by one I found in a very old cookbook of mine, called The Alternative Chocolate Cookbook (see, even culinary professionals view carob as a chocolate pretender). I’ve completely revamped the recipe so it’s gluten free, sugar free and vegan–in fact, the only thing I didn’t change was the spotlight on carob–to create a light, crisp cookie with just a hint of chewiness inside, very much like a sugar cookie. A whisper of cinnamon helps to emphasize carob’s natural sweetness, with just enough coconut sugar and stevia to make this sweet enough to qualify as “cookie.”
These light confections were perfect alongside a cup of Sencha tea, or sandwiched together with some sugar-free, allergen-free Chocolate Buttercream Frosting (the HH’s preferred way to nosh on them).
If you’ve been thinking of carob as a lesser form of chocolate, now’s the time to appreciate this lovely, slightly fruity, barely sweet legume for its own merits. Sort of the way moms appreciate their children.
Light and not too sweet, these cookies are perfect for an afternoon snack with tea or as the base for sandwich cookies. Made without the chips, they’d be great crumbled for a tart or pie crust.
1/4 cup (40 g) lightly packed coconut sugar
2 Tbsp (30 ml) water
20-25 drops plain or vanilla liquid stevia, to your taste
1 tsp (5 ml) pure vanilla extract
1/4 cup (60 ml) coconut oil, preferably organic, melted (I used refined so there would be no coconut flavor, but these would still be great with a hint of coconut)
1 Tbsp (15 ml) finely ground flax seeds
3 Tbsp (45 ml) carob powder
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) cinnamon
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) baking powder
1/4 tsp (1 ml) fine sea salt
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) xanthan gum
1/3 cup (80 ml) unsweetened carob chips, optional
3.2 ounces (90 g) all-purpose GF flour mix (2/3-1 cup, depending on the mix–I used Amy’s Basic GF Flour Blend, which equaled 2/3 cup; other flours will yield different volumes for the same weight)
In a small bowl, whisk together the sugar, water, vanilla and stevia so that the sugar begins to dissolve. Add the coconut oil and whisk vigorously to combine, or beat with electric beaters (it’s okay if the mixture appears curdled). Mix in the flax seeds.
In a medium bowl, sift together the flour, carob powder, cinnamon, baking powder, salt and xanthan gum. Add the wet mixture to the dry and stir to create a slightly sticky dough. If using the carob chips, add them now. Create a roll about 8 inches (20.5 cm) long, wrap tightly in plastic wrap, and refrigerate for at least 2 hours or up to overnight. (If you’re in a rush, you can freeze the log for about 15 minutes, until firm, then proceed).
When ready to bake the cookies, preheat oven to 375F (190C). Line a cookie sheet with parchment. Using a sharp knife, cut cookies about 1/4 inch (.5 cm) thick and place about an inch (2.5 cm) apart on the cookie sheet. If the dough cracks or if the cookies are squished when cutting, press with your fingers to re-shape into circles.
Bake for 10-12 minutes, rotating the sheet about halfway through, until cookies are slightly puffed and lightly browned on the bottom. Cool 5 minutes before removing from the cookie sheet. Store in an airtight container. Makes 12-16 cookies. May be frozen.
["Happy Mother's Day, Mum! Don't forget to check out that Mother's Day card that Dad Chaser and I got for you!"]
For a long time after my own mom died (way too young), I wouldn’t even acknowledge Mother’s Day; I pretended it didn’t exist. It was too painful to see all my friends taking their moms out to brunch, or making them breakfast at home, or lavishing them with flowers and gifts and cards.
But eventually, I realized that I could still honor my mom in my own way on this day. Today, I’ll light a candle in the morning and have a little “talk” with my Mom to let her know how much she meant in my life. I’ll let the candle burn and flicker all day, so that every time I pass by, I’ll think of her.
I hope everyone enjoys their Mother’s Day today! After all, it’s not just birth mothers who supply love, comfort, nurturing or “mothering.” So grab your favorite “Mom” and tell her (or him) how much s/he means to you.
And have a very Happy Mother’s Day!
[Wait a sec. . . Chaser, this could be serious. . . do you think there's a chance we might be adopted--?"
"No way, Elsie. . . only a real Mom would love us this much. . . or, for that matter, pick up our poop." ]
Welcome to another month and another round of the SOS Kitchen Challenge! After posting April’s roundup, Kim and I realized that the SOS Kitchen Challenge is now a year old. Our first challenge in April 2010 featured the beet, and we’ve been on a roll ever since. Many thanks to all of YOU for continuing to support the Challenge with your recipes and ideas!
To celebrate our one year “birthday,” we’ve decided to pick one of our favorite ingredients and feature giveaways for two lucky readers! This month we are featuring…
Carob, also known as St. John’s Bread, has been used for over 5000 years. The word “carob” is derived from the Arabic Kharrub or Kharoub, which means pod or bean pod. This ancient food has a long and interesting history, feeding Mohammed’s armies and (according to the Bible) sustaining St. John the Baptist in the wilderness (Mark 1:16). Carob was referred to as the “Egyption fig” or “Egyption date” by the Romans, who at the unripened pods as a sweet treat. The ancient Egyptians used carob to make the adhesive used in mummification, and carob has been found in Egyptian tombs. And more recently, thousands of Spaniards relied on the nutrition from the carob pod during the Spanish Civiil War and World Wars I and II. Fascinating!
Carob is harvested from the carob bean tree. Depending on the age of the tree, carob bean trees yield between 100 and 250 pounds of beans per year. Over the course of the growing season, glossy flat green bean pods develop. As they mature, the pods turn dark brown and become very firm. Each pod grows up to 12 inches in length and can contain as many as 15 carob seeds. Seeds are harvested and used for human consumption while the pods are often used as animal feed.
As a food, carob is remarkably versatile. Carob powder, available both raw and toasted, is a wonderful 1:1 substitute for cocoa powder in any recipe. Carob is also used to make carob chips, which can be substituted for chocolate chips. The rich brown color is similar to that of cocoa powder, and naturally sweet flavor reduces the need for other sweeteners in recipes, making it great for low-sugar or sugar-free diets (such as the ACD!). But unlike cocoa, carob is free of caffeine, theobromine, and oxalic acid, so it a great choice for individuals who are sensitive to, or wish to avoid, those things.
Roasted carob seeds have a rich flavor, and can be used as a substitute for coffee or black tea. Whole pods are eaten in Egypt as a snack and crushed pods are used to make a refreshing drink (I actually used to snack on the pods when I first began the ACD about ten years ago. . . slightly warmed, they become soft and chewy, very date-like). In addition to using the pod whole or ground, it can be used for a variety of other purposes. Throughout the Mediterranean, carob is used to make liqueurs and syrups for both culinary and medicinal purposes (carob syrup can be found at Mediterranean, Middle Eastern, or speciality markets). The commonly-used thickener locust bean gum–often found in many processed foods–is derived from carob.
In addition to being delicious, carob is actually quite health promoting. As mentioned earlier, it is free of caffeine, theobromine, and oxalic acid, perfect for anyone intolerant to caffeine or on a low oxalic diet. It is high in fiber and contains a respectable amount of calcium, potassium, riboflavin, copper, potassium, and omega-6 fatty acids. It can be used as a treatment for diarrhea, and is particularly effective in infants and children.
How To Participate (And Enter To Win!)
Kim and I are offering great prizes this month to two lucky readers as a way to celebrate our one year anniversary. By submitting a recipe to this month’s SOS Challenge, you are automatically eligible to win! (Please remember that recipes must be vegan or provide reliable vegan substitutes, cannot use refined sugars, and must utilize whole ingredients–no box mixes). For full Challenge guidelines, please see this post. If your entry does not comply with our rules, we will be obliged to remove it–so please read the rules!
Entries must be recieved by 11:59 pm CST on May 31, 2011.
Our prizes this month:
A 1-pint jar of Harrison’s Sugar Bush Maple Syrup, harvested by Kim’s family in Fence, Wisconsin. This syrup is made in small batches and is only available through them–it is not sold in stores. So, lucky you!
At the end of the month, Kim and I will choose the two winners at random from the entries, and will announce the winners on our blogs Wednesday June 1, 2011. Be sure to come back here and check if you won at the beginning of next month!
We’ve been blown away by the enthusiasm and incredible creativity you’ve all shown over the past Challenges. So put those carob-filled thinking caps on, and start cooking!
Here are some carob-based recipes on the blog to inspire you:
