It’s another long July weekend for us here in Canada and all our American cousins in the US–yay!
Happy “I Love My Country” Day to both of us!
For those of you looking for summer/ buffet/ BBQ/ patriotic/ festive recipes for your long weekend, here are some of my favorites that would be appropriate for either July 1st OR July 4th. (And hope you caught a glimpse of my Cinnamon Crumb Coffee Cake for Our Panera’s Gluten Free Dream Day yesterday, too!).
Have a great long weekend, everyone–and celebrate!
[Note: Recipes marked with an asterisk * are gluten-free; others use spelt or or barley flour]
I was thrilled that the HH and I were invited to twoseders this year (sorry, Girls). But after being delighted at my friends’ generosity, I panicked when I realized that most Passover food, besides being meat and poultry-heavy, is also full of eggs and gluten (not to mention sugar and honey)! Immediately, I decided to bring something along that I could eat–and that everyone else could enjoy, too.
I was surprised at how many DDD recipes are Passover-friendly (no grain, no gluten, no leavening, no beans or legumes, and a few other restrictions). Here’s a little roundup for those of you who follow Passover traditions (and even those who don’t!) and are looking for something delicious and healthy to cook up.
“Mum, maybe we can’t come to the seder, but would you mind bringing home some leftovers? That kale saladis way more tasty than this kong.”
I thought it would be fun to run a little series over here at DDD: I’ll profile one one of my favorite foods, or a food that I’ve recently discovered and enjoyed, over several days. The series is presented on an occasional (and entirely arbitrary) basis, before I move on to the next lucky comestible. This is the final entry on apples.
Even though it’s the US Thanksgiving holiday (Happy Thanksgiving, all!) and I’m Canadian, (we in the Frozen North celebrated last month), I am still feeling incredibly thankful today. There are the obvious, quotidian reasons: my (long-suffering, incredibly tolerant and indulgent-of-my-quirks) HH, The (furry, funny and entirely fetching) Girls, my dear friends and family.
But perhaps less obviously yet just as importantly, I’m thankful for the world of bloggers, my blog buddies (both new and long-standing) and amazing readers and commenters who visit this site. I’m sure you all know that a blog is a lonely, deserted space without the community of readers and commenters, but perhaps we bloggers don’t acknowledge that often enough. So thanks, folks, for sticking around and taking part. I love (lurrrrve) hearing from you!
And–there’s more! Right about now, I’m thankful for my lucky streak these past few days. I’d say I feel like one of the luckiest bloggers in the world. Why?
EXHIBIT “A”: Prize Number One!
I was the delighted recipient of a package that arrived in the mail this week, from the lovely Elizabeth at Don’t White Sugar Coat It. I won Elizabeth’s “Stevia in the Raw” giveaway, and was tickled to open up the box to see this:
I’ve never used powdered stevia before and haven’t encountered this particular brand, either, so I am keen to get started creating recipes! Today’s giant pancake was made with this new ingredient (yum!). Thanks so much, Elizabeth–I can’t wait to see what other ACD-friendly goodies I can whip up with it!
EXHIBIT “B” : Prize Number Two!
But wait, folks, there’s more! Yesterday,I received an email from Ashley over at Eat Me, Delicious , informing me that I was also the winner of her Epicure Selections package! This generous giveaway prize is made up of some awesome baking tools and ingredients (including some mouthwatering Belgian chocolate–mmmm!). Of course I’ll post about the package, with photos, when it arrives; all I can do for now is dream about what I’ll concoct, and drool. How lucky can one gal get? Thank you, Ashley!
EXHIBIT “C”: Prize Number THREE!!!!
I know, it’s totally outrageous that I would win THREE prizes–and, in fact, I didn’t! Instead, I’m giving this prize away to one of you! I’ll be holding my own giveaway next time (be sure to come back and check in)–but for now, perhaps I can entice you with this lovely teaser photo. Can you tell what this prize will be? All I will say is that it’s beautiful, it’s healthy, and I try to consume some every day. . . and it’s not chocolate! For all the details and how to enter, see my next post.
Gee, I could kinda get used to this Thanksgiving thing!
Well, I couldn’t end this Lucky Comestible: Apple series without a dessert (especially since I promised to include one dish for each course of the meal). Now, I know that a pancake is traditionally a breakfast food, but the base was so cakelike that I decided to use it in this post. Besides, if I can eat dessert for breakfast on occasion (okay, too many occasions to mention), well, why not breakfast for dessert?
I’ve been thinking about giant pancakes ever since I read Alisa’s post a while back on her Apple Dutch Baby. This delicacy isn’t quite as puffy or moist as a true Dutch Baby, but it does have an authentic pancake fluffiness. By placing the apples under the batter, you ensure complete cooking (and won’t end up with those underbaked, slightly crunchy slices you get sometimes in muffins or quick breads). Then, when you flip it over, you’ll have a lovely and visually impressive treat to serve your guests, your family–or just yourself.
I made these with almost no added sweetener, as I enjoy the natural sweetness of the apple. For breakfast, I serve my slice with almond butter for a complete meal. To serve the pancake as a conventional dessert, however, I’d add the suggested sweetener to the recipe, and would even top each serving with some maple syrup and perhaps a dollop of whipped cream. A berry coulis would also be superb drizzled over the top of the pancake.
And if a delectable, ACD-friendly pancake for dessert isn’t something to be thankful for, well, I don’t know what is.
“Mum, we’re thankful for your pancakes, too. Especially the leftover ones that you give to us. Oh, and squirrels.”
Giant Baked Upside-Down Apple Pancake
A perfect weekend breakfast or dish for a brunch crowd. Slice and wrap pieces of the pancake, then store in the fridge for breakfast throughout the week.
Apple Botton/Top:
1 large sweet apple (such as Gala or Delicious), peeled, cored and cut in thin slices
1 Tbsp (15 ml) cinnamon
2 Tbsp (30 ml) Sucanat (omit for ACD-friendly version)
Pancake Batter:
1/3 cup (80 ml) cashew butter, room temperature
1/2 cup (120 ml) unsweetened applesauce
1 tsp (5 ml) pure vanilla extract
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) pure almond extract (optional)
2 Tbsp (30 ml) agave or maple syrup, 15-20 drops stevia liquid, or 2 packets dry stevia (such as the Stevia in the Raw I won!)
3/4 cup (180 ml) plain or vanilla soy, almond or rice milk
1/3 cup (50 g) brown rice flour
1/4 cup (60 ml) coconut flour
1/4 cup (60 ml) oat flour (or grind oats in a coffee grinder to a fine powder)
1 tsp (5 ml) ground cinnamon
2-1/2 tsp (12.5 ml) baking powder
1/4 tsp (1 ml) baking soda
1/8 tsp (.5 ml) fine sea salt
Preheat oven to 350F (180C). Line a large tart pan, springform pan or pie plate with a circle of parchment paper; then grease both the pan AND the paper (this is necessary to ensure that the fruit bottom unmolds properly; if you don’t intend to flip the pancake over after it’s baked and you just cut slices straight from the pan, you can omit the parchment).
In a small bowl, combine the apple, 1 Tbsp (15 ml) cinnamon and Sucanat, if using. Toss with a spoon or your hands until all the slices are coated, taking care to separate any slices that stick together (discard any coating that’s left at the bottom of the bowl). Place the slices in a single layer (or just slightly overlapping) over the bottom of the pan in a decorative arrangement. Set aside.
In a medium bowl, whisk together the cashew butter, applesauce, vanilla, almond extract, agave or stevia and chia until combined. Slowly add the soymilk and whisk until well mixed. Set aside.
In a large bowl, sift together the remaining ingredients. Add the wet mixture and stir until well combined. Carefully drop the batter by spoonfuls evenly over the surface of the apples, then spread gently to cover all the fruit, disturbing the slices as little as possible. Smooth the top (it’s okay if a few bits of apple stick out here or there).
Bake the pancake in preheated oven for 35-45 minutes, rotating the pan about halfway through, until the top is golden, the edges are browned and a tester inserted in the center comes out clean. Remove from oven and allow to cool completely. Once cool, carefully run a knife along the outside edge of the pancake to loosen it. Invert a serving plate over the pan and flip it over (the pancake should fall right out onto the plate). Gently peel off the parchment paper (the apples should be in the same positions as they were when the pancake went into the oven; if they’re not, carefully rearrange them on top of the pancake).
Serve with maple syrup, fruit purée, or ice cream. Makes 6-8 servings. May be frozen.
[I thought it would be fun to run a little series over here at DDD: I'll profile one one of my favorite foods, or a food that I've recently discovered and enjoyed, over several days. The series is presented on an occasional (and entirely arbitrary) basis, before I move on to the next lucky comestible. This is the fourth entry on apples.]
After reading all your comments about the Apple and Red Wine Soup the other day, I began to wonder if perhaps I’d been a tad hasty in my panegyric to the soup. Was I too effusive in my praise? I mean, it’s just soup, right? And soup is just food. So what if it has caramelized onions in it? Onions, soft and browing at the edges, infusing the room with their sweet, enticing aroma. And apples, sautéed to golden, yielding perfection, tart and tender and melding with those onions. Oh, and let’s not forget the added piquancy of red wine–a good, hearty, robust wine that would be great on its own, but added to the soup, it creates a rich, thick, beguiling first course—heck, forget that apology! I LOVE THAT SOUP.
Okay. I am now done with the soup. Promise.
But before I move to the main course, I wanted to say “THANKS” for an award from Ashley at Eat Me, Delicious–I’ve been so focused on apples that I forgot to mention it last time! Thanks so much, Ashley, for the “One Lovely Blog Award”! It is much appreciated (and you know I’d love to cook meals for you–come visit!) I’m supposed to pass this along, but there are so many blogs I love to read that I really can’t choose. I mean, that would be like choosing between Elsie and Chaser. And isn’t “demure, gentle and sweet” just as appealing as “wacky, hilarious and in-your-face”? Each has its own charms. And so, you are all Lovely Blogs!
I know, you’re thinking, “Okay, so now can we eat that main course?!” Mais, oui, bien sur!
To be honest, this dish was originally intended as an appetizer or side dish, but the “real” main course I attempted a few nights ago was, shall we say, never going to earn a star on the Culinary Wok of Fame. I’ve got a new one in the works, and if it’s a success, we’ll relegate today’s recipe to the back of the table and I’ll post about a new main. Otherwise, it’s time to dig in to terrine!
Whenever I take to whining and whinging about the frigid winters here in Toronto, some smart aleck inevitably pipes up, “But you’re from Montreal! How can you not like winter?!” Well, take it from me, bud, just because you’re born somewhere doesn’t guarantee that you love the climate. (Do you think the polar bears at the Florida Zoo feel like sunbathing?)
And it’s not just the weather (though for the life of me, I will never understand the appeal of minus 30C, snow up to your waist, icicles dangling from your scarf, or having to wear those metal cleats on the bottom of your boots to prevent falling flat on your derrière when you walk two dogs every afternoon). No, it’s also the unrelenting gloom (today’s forecast: gray. Tomorrow: dark gray. After that: whitish gray. Next day: deep gray–etc.), the ridiculous quantity of layers required to prevent frostbite of the extremities; the woolen toques that flatten your hair in thin, swirly wisps that adhere to your forehead; the traffic at a near-standstill every time it snows; the ever-shorter window of daylight, when darkness slams down in a matter of seconds, like a guillotine.
So it’s not an exaggeration to say that I seriously dislike cold. Which works out pretty poorly for me every year between, say, mid-October and the beginning of May. But it worked out extremely well, on the other hand, for this potato terrine.
A while back I spied a recipe for a layered potato terrine with apple and camembert cheese and decided to create my own version, with potato, apple and my favorite goat “cheese” (since, as you may have guessed by now, I’m a little bit obsessed with that cheese). So far, so good.
While the process was fairly involved, it wasn’t difficult, and I had no trouble assembling all the ingredients, layering them in the pan, allowing them “settle” overnight or unmolding the terrine the next day. I was pleased with the fairly compact slices, even without the inclusion of melty camembert to bind them together.
The HH and I sat down, ready and eager to dig in to our (cold) first course. A tentative first bite, and then. . . I pushed the plate away. It wasn’t awful; just nondescript: white on white on off-white on beige (well, it did sort of resemble snow that way. . . ). Curses!
But then it occurred to me–maybe it was those cold potatoes? Great in a salad, but in a terrine. . . well, not so much. I grabbed the plates and popped them in the oven to heat through. Ten minutes later, the HH and I were digging in to a wonderfully warm medley of sweet and salty, with tender spuds offering a perfect base for rich cheese and tart apple. Warmed up, this dish really excelled, appealing to the palate in a way that was entirely lacking in the cold version.
The terrine could serve as a delicious main course alongside a crisp side salad (maybe something like the first one in this post), or some bright, barely steamed broccoli or green beans to add color and textural interest.
And while I know the dish was really intended to be served chilled, I much prefer my version. Like everything else at this time of year, I simply couldn’t abide the cold.
To all my American readers and friends, HAPPY THANKSGIVING!
“Um, Mum, what did you mean by ‘in-your-face’? That sounds annoying to me, Mum. As if I keep badgering you when I want to play ball, or as if I whine a lot when I want to play frisbee, or as if I howl at you when you sit at your desk trying to blog because I want you to toss my pull-toy, or as if I nip Elsie’s face and ears when I want her to play with me, which is pretty much all of the–”
While it does require a bit of advance preparation, this is a lovely dish to wow the guests. Unmold the whole terrine on a platter, then slice in thick pieces at the table.
1 recipe Cashew Goat Cheese (or your favorite cheese–one that melts would, in fact, be even better in this recipe)
about 2 pounds (1 kg) new potatoes, peeled
3 granny smith apples
2-4 Tbsp (30-60 ml) coconut oil or other light-tasting oil, preferably organic
2 Tbsp (30 ml) chopped fresh parsley
freshly ground pepper
Line an 8″ (20 cm) loaf pan with waxed paper and set aside.
Boil the potatoes in a large pot of salted water until just soft, about 15 minutes. Drain and cool.
Once the potatoes are cool, cut them into thick disks about 1/2″ (1 cm) thick. Heat about 1 Tbsp (15 ml) of the oil in a nonstick pan over medium heat; cook the potatoes until just golden, then turn and cook the other side, adding more oil as necessary. Remove to a plate that has been lined with paper towels to drain.
Core and slice the apples into 1/4″ (5 mm) thick rounds. Heat another 1 Tbsp (15 ml) coconut oil in the pan and cook the apple until golden but not mushy. Drain on paper towel.
Preheat oven to 350F (180C). Arrange a layer of the potatoes in the pan, then top with a layer of apples and a layer of cheese (you can try to spread the cheese over the apples, or just place dollops of it evenly across the surface). Sprinkle with half the parsley. Repeat the layers, then finish with a final layer of potatoes.
Cover the pan with foil, sealing well. Bake in preheated oven until heated through, 30-40 minutes. Remove from oven and allow to cool slightly.
Place a piece of cardboard on top of the foil covering the pan, and put weights over the cardboard (I used cans of tomatoes) to compress the layers. Refrigerate overnight. Unmold and slice into thick slices to serve cold. To serve warm, remove cans, cardboard, and foil; reheat in 350F (180C) oven for about 20 minutes, until warmed through before slicing. Makes 4-6 servings as a main course, or 6-8 as a side dish. Best eaten within 2 days.
[I thought it would be fun to run a little series over here at DDD: I'll profile one one of my favorite foods, or a food that I've recently discovered and enjoyed, over several days. The series is presented on an occasional (and entirely arbitrary) basis, before I move on to the next lucky comestible. This is the second entry on apples.]
[Quick note: Don't forget about the Trail Mix Giveaway--running until Friday! ]
As I was finally catching up on some long overdue blog reading the other night (and please forgive me if I haven’t been leaving as many comments as I used to–I promise I’m still reading!), I came across Diann’s post mentioning her 4-year blogiversary (congrats, Diann!).
It suddenly struck me that I’ve missed my own 2-year anniversary (at the end of October). Could it be that I’m preoccupied with end-of-semester assignments and marking? Perhaps the excitement of Halloween clouded my memory (okay, not a great excuse–my memory is always clouded). Or is it my fretting over an upcoming TV appearance for my book** on November 17 (be sure to watch if you’re in the Toronto area!). Probably none of the above. It’s just that I was just spending too much time mulling over the appropriate sequence of courses for this current Lucky Comestible series. I mean, does one serve the salad before the soup, or soup before the salad?
Hmm. That’s a tough one. According to the Wellspring of All Things Informational, Wikipedia, soup follows the first course (which they call the entrée) ; after that, we have some fish or relevées (lighter courses), then a main dish, and then a salad, with dessert and cheese plate in pursuit. It’s common knowledge in these parts that Italian meals often serve a salad toward the end as a kind of digestive aid (which makes total sense, as the raw ingredients contain enzymes that do just that).
Well, now that I’ve discovered the joy that is Waldorf Salad, I wasn’t about to save this darling for the end of the meal!
Believe it or not, I had never tasted a true Waldorf Salad before making this one. (I know! Even with me being all worldly and everything). As a young adult, for me the name always evoked images of raucus witticisms and much imbibing at the Algonquin Round Table; impeccably-coiffed socialites in Chanel Suits, their French poodles (equally coiffed) trotting alongside on golden leashes; or Holly Golightly peeking in that store window before Breakfast (all of which occurred, of course, in the same city as the hotel in which the salad originated).
While I knew it contained apples, I wasn’t as clear on the other ingredients. I imagined it must have something exotic, such as mizuna or ugli fruit (okay, not really; in those days, I didn’t even know what ugli fruit was. I just liked the name). Or that it involved a multi-stage, every-pot-in-the-house sort of preparation.
In a recipe like this one–containing only 3 ingredients besides the mayo–that mayonnaise is pivotal. In fact, the full gastronomic experience of the salad–the entire salad “zeitgeist,” if you will–is determined by that mayo. Mayo Rules!
If you’re already familiar with a prepared mayo that you like and think would go well here, by all means, use it. I’ve rarely used jarred mayo in the past, preferring to make my own. And while the results have been perfectly fine for items such as mock tuna salad or even Celeri Remoulade, for this salad, I wanted something a little lighter, a little more delicate in flavor. And I found it–on Vegan Epicurean’s blog!
The mayo recipe she created is perfect. It’s airy, fluffy, not at all unctuous, yet rich and creamy, with just the right degree of tartness and sweetness to balance the oil. I made mine in a VitaMix, but it should work in a regular blender as well (see recipe for pointers).
The first time I made the salad, I foolishly halved the recipe, assuming the HH and I could never eat it all. (Silly me.) It was amazingly good. Crisp, juicy, sweet apple bits complemented by crisp, juicy, slightly bitter celery bits, punctuated by crisp, toasty walnut bits, all coated in bits of creamy, smooth, ethereal mayonnaise. And wouldn’t you know it–bit by delectable bit, I ate half the bowl. (As did the HH.)
Whether you serve this as a first course, following the soup, or as a post-prandial nibble, no matter. It’s a joy to eat any time.
“Mum, I’m sure we would find that salad a joy to eat, too! Oh, wait; for us, pretty much anything is a joy to eat. But can we still have the leftovers anyway?”
**If you don’t yet have a copy of Sweet Freedom, this is a great time to get one for yourself, or as a holiday gift for someone else! Receive personalized, signed copies of the book mailed to you (so you have plenty of time to wrap and go before the holidays) for just $25 including taxes, shipping and handling. Why not enjoy some delicious, healthy sweet treats this holiday season? Offer good until December 1st!
A wonderful first course for a meal, or as a side dish with a summer dinner. There’s a reason this salad is a classic–it’s still irresistible, even today.
1 large sweet, crisp and juicy apple (I used Honeycrisp), cut into bite-sized pieces (about 2 cups/480 ml)
1/2 cup (55 g) lightly toasted walnuts, broken into pieces
1/2 cup (120 ml) halved green grapes (optional)
1 cup (240 ml) great-tasting mayonnaise (I used this recipe, with the ACD variation, below)
Place the apples, celery, walnuts and grapes in a large bowl. Add the mayo and stir to coat well. Either eat immediately, or store, covered, in refrigerator until ready to serve. To serve, garnish with more chopped walnuts, if desired. Makes 4-6 servings.
1 cup plus 2 Tbsp (270 ml) sunflower or other light-tasting oil, preferably organic
1/4 tsp (1 ml) apple cider vinegar
2-4 drops stevia liquid (to your taste)
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) fine sea salt
1-1/2 tsp (7.5 ml) fresh lemon juice
1 tsp (5 ml) finely grated lemon zest
1/4 tsp (1 ml) dry mustard powder
Blend all ingredients in a high speed blender until thick, scraping down sides as necessary. Transfer to a jar and refrigerate before using. (If using a conventional blender, blend all ingredients except oil. Then, with motor running, slowly pour the oil into the blender and allow the mixture to emulsify. Transfer to a jar and refrigerate before using). Makes about 2 cups (480 ml).
[I thought it would be fun to run a little series over here at DDD: I'll profile one one of my favorite foods, or a food that I've recently discovered and enjoyed, over several days. The series is presented on an occasional (and entirely arbitrary) basis, before I move on to the next lucky comestible. This is the first entry on apples.]
Honestly, where does the time go? Here we are on November 5th–but wasn’t yesterday Halloween? Now that I finally seem to be clawing my way out of my flu funk, the days are whizzing by (if only they’d whiz directly to mid-April–do not collect $200, do not pass snow–that would be great. I, for one, could do without winter.)
Well, whether we want to or not, at this point most of us are thinking ahead to the holidays. With that in mind, I’ve got two great suggestions before I turn to today’s Lucky Comestible.
If you’re looking for some delicious holiday-themed dishes, take a look at Nava Atlas’s A Bountiful Vegan Thanksgiving ebook. At 78 pages, it contains a slew of recipes, from appetizers and soups to salads, side dishes, entrées, stuffings, sauces, and desserts. While most of the recipes are Nava’s own, she also includes dishes from ”guest” chefs like Beverly Lynn Bennett, Fran Costigan, Dreena Burton, Isa Chandra Moskowitz, Robin Robertson and Susan Voisin, among others (and two recipes by yours truly!). I was thrilled to receive my copy and even though we’ve already celebrated Thanksgiving here in Canada, I still saw lots of recipes I can serve up at Christmas time and through the new year. Best of all, profits from the book are all going to some of Nava’s favorite charities. Click here for more info or to buy.
And don’t forget that Sweet Freedomis on sale until the beginning of December! With over 100 recipes for all your favorite sweet treats made healthy (plus a few unexpected goodies!), you can have your cake this holiday season, and great health, too. The book would also make a wonderful gift, and can be signed for the recipient. Just click on the book cover at left or the Cookbook link at the top of the page for more info or to purchase.
And while I was thinking about the holidays, I decided on the focus of this sixth Lucky Comestible series. Although I love pumpkin and have a few recipes that include it on this blog, there’s never a shortage of pumpkin-based recipes at this time of year. I got to thinking about other autumn produce and how I could incorporate it into my holiday menus. And since I’ve recently seen the return of limited fruits to my culinary repertoire, I immediately decided to highlight one of these not-so-sweet beauties in my next Lucky Comestible series. And then it hit me–why not apples?
I mean, apples are, in a way, the original fruit (though technically those naked lovers did gorge on pretty much every other fruit before they bit into that MacIntosh). And it’s true what they say–your daily Granny Smith could very well be a means to protecting your health. Apples are also visually appealing, tasty, portable snacks; and, I daresay, they are probably the single fruit consumed by the largest number of people. They’re sort of like the Miss Congeniality of fruits. In fact, they’re actually the Sally Field of fruits–we like them! We really, really like them. How many people don’t enjoy apples?
Far from being a mundane pleasure, then, apples are a healthy indulgence that come in a variety of shapes, sizes, and appellations. Of course, we’re all familiar with cute little Granny Smith, with her tough exterior and tart insides, or the sweet and delicate Delicious varieties. But how about the Scarlet O’Haralson or Summer Rambo? Apples take on Hollywood! If you’re curious about all the names bestowed upon this common fruit, check here.
Apples are also associated with myriad historical facts and trivia. For an amazingly comprehensive list of all things apple, check out this incredible post by Johanna of Green Gourmet Giraffe (Thanks, Johanna!).
Of course, we all know how versatile the forbidden fruit is in terms of flavor combinations; besides the seminal apples and cinnamon, apples can chum around with savory curries, sweet spice mixtures, your choice of alcoholic beverages, caramel, and even chocolate. It’s also a flexible ingredient that contributes equally well to any course of a meal. So I thought it would be fun to run the gamut of courses, featuring an apple-based dish spanning appetizer to soup to main course and dessert.
Ready for your appetizers? Let’s begin with this astonishing roasted red pepper and apple dip. Wouldn’t this look beautiful on a holiday buffet table?
This recipe hails from Nicole Routhier’s Fruit Cookbook, a massive tome that’s been wedged in my cookbook book case between Meena Pathak’s Indian Cooking for Family and Friends and the Moosewood Low Fat Favorites for almost a year without stirring (pun intended. Oh, and that reminds me, I really need to organize my cookbooks already). A book based on fruit recipes seemed perfect for my apple quest, so I pulled it from the shelf and began to browse. The original dip was intended for grilled shrimp, but we had it over grilled tofu with favorable results. It would also go exceptionally well spread on crackers, or as a base in either a grilled eggplant or avocado sandwich (or both together).
The alluring triad of smoky peppers, tangy Granny Smith, and fiery chili flakes was enough to win my heart (and my taste buds)–after enjoying this spooned over tofu, I took to spooning it straight from the container and into my salivating maw. One part chutney, one part part salsa, and one part jam, this is a perfect spread for almost any food. With a cheery orange blush (perfect for the season!) and slightly grainy texture, the dip looks beautiful mounded in a serving bowl and struck me as a fitting centerpiece for a platter of simple sweet potato “fries.” Let the holiday menus begin!
(And stay tuned for a very festive giveaway coming up next post!)
A versatile dip that works well with roasted vegetables, tofu, or burgers. This would also be great tossed with pasta or spread in a sandwich.
4 medium red peppers, roasted (you can roast them yourself or just use prepared ones), chopped
1/2 cup (120 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
4 tsp (20 ml) minced garlic
2 tsp (10 ml) dried red pepper flakes (or less, to taste)
1/2 cup (85 g) natural almonds, lightly toasted
1/4 cup (60 ml) red wine vinegar (for ACD variation, use lemon juice)
1 tsp (5 ml) sugar, or 3-5 drops stevia liquid
1/2 Granny Smith apple, peeled, cored and chopped
salt and pepper, to taste
Heat 2 Tbsp (10 ml) of the olive oil in a skillet over medium heat and add the garlic and red pepper flakes. Sauté until fragrant and lightly golden, about one minute. Remove from heat.
Place the chopped peppers in a food processor or blender (I used a food processor). Add the sautéed garlic mixture, the remaining 6 Tbsp (90 ml) olive oil, toasted almonds, vinegar (or lemon juice) and sugar (or stevia) and process to a purée. Add the chopped apple and process again until blended. (If your blender isn’t large enough to hold allt he ingredients at once, process in two batches and then stir them together in a bowl).
Transfer the dip to a bowl and season to taste with salt and pepper. Cover and refrigerate until well chilled. Makes about 2 cup (480 ml). Will keep, covered, in refrigerator up to 3 days.
[I thought it would be fun to run a little series over here at DDD: I'll profile one one of my favorite foods, or a food that I've recently discovered and enjoyed, over several days. For this fifth edition, I'm focusing on cilantro. The series is presented on an occasional (and entirely arbitrary) basis, before I move on to the next lucky comestible. This is the fifth entry on cilantro.]
The HH and I just returned from an annual sojourn to what used to be our favorite summer retreat, a country resort up in ski country. I say, “used to be” because, like so many other businesses these days, our erstwhile “favorite” has cut services to the bone and, as a result, is no longer the hotel we remember and loved. Those of you on twitter may have seen my lament that the breakfast “buffet” included precisely one food I could eat: roasted potatoes. The rest of the menu (ham, bacon, eggs, french toast, plate of baked goods and bowl of yogurts) was all verboten to me. As I chewed on my (suddenly very bitter) spuds, I wondered, what about celiacs? What about diabetics? There wasn’t exactly a cornucopia of choices for them, either. In addition, the dinner “service” was so deplorable (over 40 minutes to get our appetizers! In a dining room with six patrons!), we decided that next year, we’ll look for a new place to patronize during our annual summer weekend away.
Well, no matter. The weather, at least, was glorious, and hey–the paucity of food actually resulted in two more pounds of weight loss (for those of you who’ve been following such things, the grand total is 32 lost so far. That means I can now get into my “chubby” clothes, leaving behind my “fat” and “edifice-like” wardrobes, while I’m still not quite slim enough for my “I’m-saving-these-even-though-they’re-out-of-style-and-I’m-really-too-old-for-them-because-I-love-them-so-much” clothes). I also realized that the best way to lose weight is when you’re not really trying. (Hmm. Maybe that resort wasn’t so bad after all. All I have to do is suffer there for another week , and I’m pretty sure I’d be at goal.).
The weekend was an explicit reminder (I guess I’d sort of forgotten) that I am, indeed, following a rather restricted diet these days. Funny, even though I altered my diet to eliminate wheat, eggs and dairy about ten years ago (meat was pretty much already gone by then), I hadn’t really thought of my food intake as ”restricted” (after all, I’d still managed to gain 45 pounds eating that way!) until these past few months on the anti-candida diet. In fact, changing my diet initially prompted me to try out many foods I’d shunned until that point.
One prime example is Indian cuisine. I’d never tasted any of my current favorites–an authentic, long-simmering curry, a crispy papadum, a nubby, melting dal, or peppery masala okra–until I was forced to change my diet. Once I tried the first few dishes, I quickly grew enamored of the fragrant spices like sweet cardamom and warming turmeric, and was easily besotted with basmati rice, vibrant vindaloos and creamy kormas. In fact, it was Indian cuisine that catalyzed my conversion from cilantro foe to cilantro lover.
Whenever we stop in at our favorite Indian restaurant nearby, the HH will often order lamb. I have to tell you, if I’m sitting downwind, it can ruin my dinner. Even before I stopped eating meat, I just wasn’t able to tolerate lamb. Something about the smell–that elusive combination of unctuous yet slightly sweet–always managed to make my stomach flutter and my bile rise, even as a child and long before I understood the true source of those glistening cubes on my plate.
Well, lucky for me, most Indian dishes are naturally vegetarian. On the other hand, it only occurred to me recently that I’ve been inadvertently ruling out a whole category of recipes in my collection simply because they feature lamb, glossing right over those when I scan my cookbooks for dinner ideas.
Well, silly me! I mean, where is it written that those dishes must they be made with lamb? Why couldn’t a favorite soy product (or other legume) stand in for the meat, as they’ve often done before with chicken or beef? I must have been blinded by my visions of guileless black eyes, kinky white curls and baby hooves to even consider it. (I know, I’m a bit slow on the uptake sometimes).
One of my favorite sources of protein is tempeh, and it’s one I use far too infrequently. I thought it would offer a great substitute for ground lamb in a curry. After browsing through various cookbooks, I combined some of my favorite flavors to create a warm, mildly spiced, and slightly unconventional main dish. The smooth, creamy sauce is punctuated by occasional bursts of sweet peas, bits of savory tempeh, and juicy tomato. It’s perfect served over some steamed basmati rice.
And the aroma, redolent with Indian spices, is guaranteed to entice you–no matter which side of the table you’re on.
“Mum, we know you don’t want to eat sheep, but if you ever need them rounded up or led into a pen, we’d be happy to help out. (We’re both part Border Collie, you know.)”
“Ground” Tempeh in a Creamy Curry Sauce
Taking inspiration from recipes in several cookbooks as well as what I had on hand, I came up with this satisfying curry. Use crumbled tempeh, or, for more discernible pieces of tempeh, cut into small cubes.
1 pkg tempeh (I used soy tempeh with seaweed)
1/2 cup (120 ml) vegetable broth
2 Tbsp (30 ml) organic coconut oil or extra virgin olive oil
1 large onion, finely diced
2-3 cloves garlic, minced
2 tsp (10 ml) minced fresh ginger
1 small tomato, finely chopped
1 tsp (5 ml) ground cumin
2 bay leaves
2 cardamon pods (or 1/4 tsp/ 1 ml ground cardamom)
1 tsp (5 ml) garam masala
1 tsp (5 ml) ground turmeric
1 tsp (5 ml) ground coriander
1/3 cup (80 ml) smooth natural almond butter
1/4 cup (60 ml) unsweetened almond milk
1 cup (240 ml) frozen peas
1/4 cup (60 ml) fresh cilantro, finely chopped, plus more for garnish
2 Tbsp (30 ml) fresh mint, finely chopped
sea salt, to taste (depending on how salty your veg broth is)
cooked brown basmati rice, to serve
Prepare the tempeh: crumble the tempeh and place in a skillet with the vegetable broth. Heat over medium heat until broth bubbles; lower to a simmer, cover and simmer until the liquid is absorbed, 10-15 minutes.
Remove tempeh from skillet and set aside. Melt the coconut oil in the skillet (no need to wash it first) over medium heat and add the onion, garlic and ginger. Sauté until the garlic and ginger begin to brown and the onion is translucent, 5-10 minutes.
Add the tomato, cumin, bay leaves, cardamom, garam masala, turmeric and coriander and cook an additional minute. Lower heat and add the almond milk, almond butter and peas, stirring to melt the almond butter. Gently stir in the tempeh. Cover and simmer for another 5-10 minutes, stirring frequently to prevent scorching, until flavors have melded and the curry is heated throughout. Add the cilantro and mint and heat for another 2 minutes. Serve over hot rice. Makes 4 servings. May be frozen.
[I thought it would be fun to run a little series over here at DDD: I'll profile one one of my favorite foods, or a food that I've recently discovered and enjoyed, over several days. For this fifth edition, I'm focusing on cilantro. The series is presented on an occasional (and entirely arbitrary) basis, before I move on to the next lucky comestible. This is the fourth entry on cilantro.]
My mom was many things: a sweet person, a sentimental person, a docile person, a loyal person; but one thing she most definitely was not, was a morning person. Because of my dad’s unique hours (he didn’t drive a car for the first 38 years of his life, so he would take the bus to his butcher shop** each day, a ride of about an hour–necessitating a 5:30 AM wakeup six days a week), this meant my Mom, too, was required to arise at the same ungodly hour each day. Her responsibility was to grill Dad’s breakfast toast, pour his tea, and pack his lunch.
The second he was out the door, my mother would retreat to the bedroom and fall back on the bed, unconscious within seconds, only to emerge about three hours later looking–well, as if she needed some sleep. My sisters and I learned at a tender age that we were on our own when it came to breakfast.
Like most of my friends at the time, I fancied cold cereal and milk above all else in the morning. Cap’n Crunch, Cocoa Puffs, Lucky Charms, _______ [insert your own sugar-filled, wheat-based choice here], but on Saturdays, the CFO and I allowed ourselves a supreme treat: saltine crackers slathered with peanut butter, and a tall glass of chocolate milk, which we made ourselves while my mother slept. We’d tiptoe down to the basement (where my parents had installed a second TV) and sit on the olive green vinyl hide-a-bed watching Saturday morning cartoons for hours (well, about three hours, that is, until Mom woke up) while we munched happily, leaving a trail of crumbs in our wake like the famous Grimm siblings.
When I got older and eventually had my own kitchen to run, I lost interest in saltines, and any other crackers. Crackers were one of those foods I never really thought about in the “SAD [ie, Standard American Diet] old days,” when I still consumed wheat, meat, sugar and aspartame. I can recall serving appetizers of smoked oysters, cream cheese and a wedge of lemon on Triscuits when I threw dinner parties in my 20s, or setting out a tray of Ritz, Stoned Wheat Thins and Water Crackers next to a hunk of cheese. But otherwise, crackers were off my radar. I mean, why would you choose dry, flavorless crackers when you could be scarfing muffins, scones or biscuits? You see my point.
So I surprised even myself by how much I enjoyed these thin, crispy wafers. Perhaps it’s the fact that I haven’t had a “true” baked good (ie, something made with flour, sweetener and, ideally, some form of chocolate) in 5 months, since I started the ACD. Or maybe my tastes are just evolving.
Naw.
In any case, these were even a hit with the HH , who pronounced them “really tasty” (not a man of many words, that HH). The texture, while crispy and slightly crumbly, is nevertheless rich, like a butter cracker or shortbread; yet they stand up well to toppings and spreads.
I enjoyed them with a slather of raw almond-veggie pâté, but because the cilantro isn’t very pronounced (great for you cilantro-phobes out there), they’d even work with nut butter for breakfast. You could easily eat some while watching cartoons–but I wouldn’t recommend pairing them with chocolate milk.
** Yes, the irony is palpable. I talk about his occupation vis-à-vis my dietary choices here.
[For those of you who prefer sweets to crackers, here's the latest review of Sweet Freedom--check out the "Muffin Wars" between SF and JOVB versions!]
Grain Free Hazelnut-Cilantro* Crackers
These work equally well for appetizers or as a snack on their own. You can use any herb you like if you’re not a fan of cilantro.
3/4 cup (115 g) hazelnuts (filberts)
1/4 cup (30 g) finely ground flax seeds
2 cloves garlic, roughly chopped
1/4 cup (40 g) whole bean or chickpea flour
1/4 tsp (1 ml) fine sea salt
1/4 tsp (1 ml) baking soda
1/2-2/3 cup (120-160 ml) fresh cilantro, parsley or basil leaves, or a combination
2 Tbsp (30 ml) organic coconut oil, melted, or extra virgin olive oil
3 Tbsp (45 ml) water
Preheat oven to 375F (190C). Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper (this recipe requires the parchment; greasing won’t do). Lightly flour the parchment with more bean flour.
In the bowl of a food processor, process the nuts and flax seeds to a fine meal; it should have the appearance of coarse cornmeal, with no visible pieces of nuts. Add the flour, salt and soda and process again until mixture is combined.
Add the cilantro, oil, and water to the processor and blend until the cilantro is well chopped and the mixture comes together in a moist dough.
Place the dough directly on the parchment, and roll it out to a rectangle about 7 x 10 inches (17.5 x 25 cm) big . You can make it smaller or slightly larger, depending on how thick you want your crackers. (I rolled mine out to a thickness of about 1/8″ or 2 mm).
Bake in preheated oven for 15 minutes. Remove from the oven and cut the large rectangle into smaller crackers (I cut about 25 crackers). Turn each cracker over by hand (be careful–these are hot!). Return the crackers to the oven and bake another 10-15 minutes, until they are golden brown throughout. Cool completely before storing in an airtight container. Makes about 25 crackers. These will keep, covered at room temperature, for up to a week.
[I thought it would be fun to run a little series over here at DDD: I'll profile one one of my favorite foods, or a food that I've recently discovered and enjoyed, over several days. For this fifth edition, I'm focusing on cilantro. The series is presented on an occasional (and entirely arbitrary) basis, before I move on to the next lucky comestible. This is the third entry on cilantro.]
Those of you who live in the GTA (Greater Toronto Area) will likely nod your heads and roll your eyes in empathy when I mention that we’ve been having terrifically odd weather this summer. One moment it’s sunny and arid as Las Vegas (minus the neon and replica Eiffel Tower, of course), the next as cold and damp as Dracula’s bedroom. This week, it’s hot and humid, with temperatures around the 25C (77F) mark, more typical of July in Toronto.
This year notwithstanding, I do love summer. As a teen, I was an avid devotee of sun worship (sounds like a cult, doesn’t it?). But with fears of overexposure, UV damage and skin cancers abounding these days, I bet the term ”sun worshipper” doesn’t even exist any more. Maybe we’re more like “sun admirers from afar.”
I must have inherited the predilection from my mom, who spent most of her summer afternoons planted on a lawn chair in our back yard, head tipped back and face directed skyward as if she were getting a wash at a hair salon. Mom could remain motionless that way for hours, until her skin turned deep bronze with just an undertone of dead lobster. But she loved it; and even though her chest eventually began to show the telltale rivulets and fissures of overexposure, her face always remained smooth and unwrinkled, appearing years younger than her chronological age, right until the day she died (which had nothing to do with skin cancer, as you might imagine).
When I was about 14, one summer I decided that I had to acquire a ”real” tan. Being naturally pallid (my skin is normally the shade of a block of raw tofu*), I knew I’d have to work up to it gradually. So I slathered on Johnson’s Baby Oil (the more “mature” among you will remember those days) and set myself the task of sunning first for 5 minutes, ten the following day, then fifteen. . . I think I worked myself up to about half an hour before I got so bored I had to go inside. (On another note, can you believe we used to slather ourselves with BABY OIL, literally frying our skin in the sun like human wontons? To make matters worse, we’d often use sun reflectors around our faces, to intensify the rays. . . like Dorian Gray, I’m waiting in dread fear for the day when that summer starts to show its effects).
I did achieve the sought-after copper hue, though. At the end of August, I arrived at a neighbour’s house to babysit, and (after she glanced at my deeply burnished epidermis), she exclaimed, ”Gee, I didn’t know your family spent the summer in the Caribbean.” Victory!
Well, that was the last time my skin was any shade darker than straw. These days, I don’t spend nearly as much time outside. For some reason, as I grew older, I developed a strong aversion to anything entomological (even those cute little Volkswagens make me cringe). As a result, I much prefer to be outdoors during the day when it’s hot and sunny and even the ants retreat to the shade. Bar-B-Q’s or dining al fresco on summer evenings just means I’m another one of the appetizers at the buffet, as the mosquitoes feast on my pale, exposed skin. Ouch. ( The HH, whose natural complexion is somewhat tawny, will often remark, “It’s fine out here. There are no bugs.” That’s only because he’s not their meal of choice. Well, that’s one type of rejection I’d actually welcome, thanks.).
Whether or not you like to spend evenings on the patio in summer, this Confetti Salad works beautifully in the heat. The mosaic of colors effectively reflects the tangle of flowers, grasses, and fresh produce that adorn many gardens and farmers markets at this time of year, their variegated colors competing for first billing in the bowl. I love the brilliant yellows and reds from the corn and peppers, the variety of textures, tastes, and colors that share space in this salad. The dressing is light and crisp, composed of lots of lemon and a hint of sesame oil.
This dish was a perfect use for some of the wild rice I received as a gift from Courtney; coupled with inspiration from a favorite recipe in Calci-Yum, it’s an ideal salad to serve to guests at an impromptu summer dinner party.
Now I just have to hope it rains so we can eat indoors.
*How’s that for a sneaky veg*n reference?
Confetti Quinoa and Wild Rice Salad with Cilantro (or Parsley)
adapted from Calci-Yum! by David and Rachelle Bronfman
A great salad for a gathering or a light dinner at home. Serve this cold or at room temperature, and feel free to mix up the veggies to your own tastes.
For the Salad:
2 cups (480 ml) cooked quinoa, at room temperature
1 cup (240 ml) cooked wild rice (or use brown rice), at room temperature
1 large tomato, diced
1/2 sweet red pepper, diced
1/2 cup (120 ml) red onion, chopped fine
1 cup (240 ml) fresh or frozen corn kernels
3/4 cup (180 ml) fresh cilantro leaves, coarsely chopped (or use some/all parsley instead)
3/4 cup (135 g) natural almonds, coarsely chopped
1/2 cup (55 g) natural walnut halves, coarsely chopped
For the Dressing:
1/2 cup (120 ml) freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 Tbsp (15 ml) dark sesame oil
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) fine sea salt
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) cumin
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) coriander
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) agave nectar or maple syrup
Toss salad ingredients together in a large bowl.
In a small bowl, combine dressing ingredients and whisk to blend well. Pour over salad ingredients and toss to coat. Serve immediately, or refrigerate until cold. Makes 4-6 servings. Keeps, covered in the refrigerator, up to 3 days.
ACD variation: Use 5 drops of stevia liquid or equivalent stevia powder instead of the agave.
[I thought it would be fun to run a little series over here at DDD: I'll profile one one of my favorite foods, or a food that I've recently discovered and enjoyed, over several days. For this fifth edition, I'm focusing on cilantro. The series is presented on an occasional (and entirely arbitrary) basis, before I move on to the next lucky comestible. This is the second entry on cilantro.]
*I originally thought about calling this post, “First Love Three Ways,” but I can only imagine the kinds of search terms that would generate for my blog!
What woman doesn’t remember her first love? Me, I remember my first cookbook.**
Now, don’t get me wrong–of course I remember my first love, too. I met Spaghetti Ears (not his real name***) the summer before I embarked on my Master’s degree, when I was about twenty two. Yes, I was a late bloomer. Okay, I was a really late bloomer. I was a ridiculously late bloomer. A ”So-glad-You-Finally-Made-it-We’ve Already-Finished Dinner-and-the-Dishes-Are-in-the-Dishwasher,” ”Sorry-You’ve-Missed-Your-Appointment-the-Doctor-is-Leaving-Now-and-I’ll-Have-to-Reschedule-You,” “Honey-I’m-Three-Weeks-Overdue-Would-You-Run-to-the-Drugstore-and-buy-a-First-Response-Kit “ kind of late bloomer.
Nevertheless, it was worth the wait. Spaghetti Ears was, truly, an ideal first boyfriend. Smart and funny, sweet and kind, loving and gentle, he was the type of guy who’d draw sappy birthday cards by hand, fill shoe boxes with rose petals to strew across the bed for your anniversary, tell you he loved you at least once a day or buy you opal earrings that, while beautiful, were beyond his budget, just because they were your birthstone and they would look lovely resting on your earlobes. (Hmmm. . . wait a second. . . you mean I broke up with this guy? Was I nuts, or what?)
And now, all these years later, I never even have to wonder what’s become of him, since we’re still friends. We email each other on birthdays and get together for an annual celebratory lunch. He tells me about his work and regales me with proud Papa stories, while I recount stories about The Girls’ antics and other events at the DDD household. (Oh, and sorry, ladies, he’s happily married). Apart from a few more laugh lines and gray hairs, Spaghetti Ears is pretty much the same guy today as he was when we dated.
My first cookbook, on the other hand, is in much worse shape than when we first met. (It’s my fault entirely. I just couldn’t keep my hands off it).
I acquired my first “real” cookbook well into my twenties (told you I was a late bloomer!). When I rented my first apartment on my own, my initial impulse was to think about how I’d furnish it. Oh, no, not with furniture, silly (though of course I’d get some of that, too). I wanted to furnish it with cookbooks, the kitchen being the core and most important room in the place.
Having almost no disposable income at the time, I opted for the Doubleday Book Club, where you could order 9 books for $1.00 (then, you needed only purchase 4 more books at regular Doubleday prices–plus shipping and handling–over the next two years!). I ticked off names based on titles I’d heard or was only vaguely familiar with, such as The Joy of Cooking (I was lucky enough to get mine before the travesty of a second version hit the stands); Maida Heatter’s Great American Desserts(she remains an idol of mine); or the original Moosewood Cookbook, in all its handwritten glory, words and illustrations by the multi-talented Mollie Katzen.
How I loved my Moosewood book! In those first days of breathless infatuation, I tried as many recipes as I could, and always turned to my Moosewood before any other. I made Katzen’s Carrot Loaf (really more like a casserole) more times than I can remember. The cookbook also supplied my introduction to hummus, gazpacho, tabbouleh, plus a host of other wonderful recipes. My love for anything Moosewood was ignited with that seminal tome and never waned. In fact, my dream of dining at the original Moosewood Restaurant was finally realized a few years ago when the HH and I dropped in several times during a stop in Ithaca on our way to Boston.
Fast forward to my first encounter with the ACD ten years ago, when I was desperately seeking recipes that were both tasty and complied with my dietary restrictions. Well, I turned to my beloved once again. This Lemony Baked Tofu from The Moosewood Restaurant New Classicsfit the bill perfectly, and it was the first tofu dish I truly adored. Made with fresh, simple ingredients, the offbeat combination of cilantro, lemon, and jalapeno is transformative here. The acidity of the lemon is tempered during baking so that the final result isn’t the least bit sour; the cilantro also loses a bit of its perfumed quality in the oven, creating a heady mix that’s intensely flavored with spice and just enough camarelization to confer a touch of sweetness.
While it’s incredibly simple to make (I just whizz everything in the food processor) and there are certainly more elaborate or trendy interpretations of tofu around these days (tofuomelets? tofu scallops? tofu ricotta?), I still love this tofu hot as a main course, cold in sandwiches or wraps, or on its own as an afternoon snack (a few slices have also served as breakfast on occasi0n, alongside home fries). Even when the HH went through his “NO-fu” stage and refused to eat most of my standard tofu-based dishes, he would still enjoy slabs of this baked tofu paired with veggies or pasta.
I’ve tried literally dozens of other tofu recipes since then, but this has remained a steadfast favorite. In a way, you might even say that this tofu is yet another one of my first loves. Unlike the human variety, however (and even after ten years together), this recipe remains consistently lovable, has never let me down and can always make me happy, every time I take a bite.
**My first kiss was another story altogether. I was about 15 and, as I recall, one of us was wearing a retainer at the time. I won’t say who.
***That was his actual pet name. Mine was Melon Head. Ah, the quirky charm of young love!
Remarkably versatile, this dish can be eaten plain, in sandwiches or pasta, or any other way you fancy. If you’re not a fan of cilantro, try it with parsley, basil, or even dill–though I’d cut the amount of jalapeno in those cases.
1 cake firm or extra firm tofu (about 1 pound/500 g)
1/2-1 fresh jalapeno pepper, to your taste (remove seeds for less heat)
1/3 cup (80 ml) chopped fresh cilantro (leaves and small stems)
1/2 small onion, roughly chopped, or 1 scallion, roughly chopped
1/4 cup (60 ml) fresh lemon juice
2 Tbsp (30 ml) tamari or soy sauce (for ACD Stage 1, use Bragg’s liquid aminos)
3 Tbsp (45 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) agave nectar or organic sugar
1/4 tsp (1 ml) freshly ground pepper
1/2 cup (120 ml) water
Preheat oven to 400F (200C). Spray a nonreactive pan (glass or ceramic) with nonstick spray.
Cut the block of tofu into 10-12 small slabs or 4 thin “steaks.” Set aside.
In the bowl of a food processor, process the jalapeno, cilantro, onion, lemon juice, tamari, olive oil, agave and pepper until smooth. Add the water and process briefly to combine.
Pour about half the marinade in the bottom of the prepared pan and spread to coat the pan. Place the tofu slabs evenly on top of the marinade (try to keep them in a single layer) and pour the rest of the marinade evenly over them. It’s okay if one or two slabs must be doubled up; just pour a little marinade between them as well.
Bake for 45-60 minutes, turning the tofu over once about halfway through. The baked tofu should be browned and bubbling, and there should be almost no liquid left in the pan. Remove to a platter and serve. Makes 4 servings. Will keep, covered in the refrigerator, up to 5 days (as with many tofu dishes, this is actually better the second day).
ACD variation: omit tamari and use Bragg’s aminos instead; omit agave and use 2 drops stevia or equivalent stevia powder.
I’m supposed to pass this along, but there are so many blogs I love to read that I really can’t choose. I mean, that would be like choosing between 
