A big THANK YOU to everyone who responded to my survey about what you like on the blog, what you could do without, and what you wish I’d add. I appreciate all the suggestions and can’t wait to implement them in the new year when the blog gets its new look (and will certainly get to the posts about my osteopenia regimen, plus more Flash in the Pan recipes, before then).
I’m sure The Girls are grateful, too, that they’ll be sticking around!
“Excuse me, Mum, but we’ll be doing way more than just ‘sticking around.’ After all, it’s clear from the response that we are the true stars of the show. Oh, and by the way, it looks like my water bowl needs refilling. Oh, and would you please get me one of those sweet potato treats? You know, the ones that have been cut into french-fry shapes. . . and smear a little peanut butter on it, while you’re over there, would you?. . . . “
“Yeah! Peanut butter! And treats, lots of treats! We’re STARS! Oh, and yeah, Mum, why don’t YOU get your slippers for a change? And maybe you could peel me a grape–”
“Zip it, Chaser. You know dogs can’t eat grapes! But come to think of it, that slipper idea wasn’t too bad. . . I’ll just lie here and relax while I wait for Mum. . .*sigh*. “
I’ll be back on Sunday with a favorite holiday recipe for Home for the Holidays (and yes, it involves chocolate!). In the meantime, you can still enter the giveaway for one of two cookbooks, here.
[Our Canada Day Dinner. . . get a load of that patriotic Maple Leaf!]
Hope everyone who celebrated this past weekend had a great one! Now, I know that Canada Day/Independence Day weekend means one thing–and one thing only–to many of you: camping. Me, not so much. I was reminded of my singular camping experience (back in my 20s, when I was dating my first true love) by a twitter exchange with Shirley of Gluten Free Easily. Here’s what went down:
Shirley tweeted this: And I replied with this:
To which she replied, with this:
At that point, I felt I needed to clarify. It wasn’t a lack of hotel amenitites, or the lack of alcoholic imbibements on a camping trip to which I objected–no, no–it was the actual act of camping itself.
Never mind that, at my age, sleeping on the ground results in an immediate reversal to pre-Australopithecus ancestry and I can no longer walk upright the following day; never mind that my multiple candida symptoms require a medical bag of tricks more suited to Mary Poppins than a middle aged, middle class gal on vacation; never mind that my dietary restrictions would convert my meal in the great outdoors to an episode of Survivorman, with me chomping on what looks like a handful of scorched blades of grass while everyone else around the campfire chows down on S’mores, vodka-infused watermelon and burgers in (wheat) buns. Never mind all of that; that’s not why I don’t enjoy camping.
No, the main reason I don’t enjoy camping is. . . . . . the wildlife.
And by “wildlife,” I mean any animal, insect, body of water or vegetation.
Suffice it to say that the one camping experience back in my 20s was enough to turn me off camping for the rest of this lifetime (and maybe into two or three of the next). All I can tell you is that a bear, a thunderstorm, and a leaky pup tent were involved.
This past weekend, however, the HH and I did spend some time outdoors (albeit not camping), soaking up the sun on the patio or romping with The Girls, naturally increasing our stores of Vitamin D. All that, plus some truly great eats.
This morning, for instance, my cousin and her family dropped in for brunch. We recently got back in touch after many years–in the interim, she had three children! Rather than play musical chairs (here in the DDD household, we’re not quite used to seating 7 people at once), I decided on a buffet instead. Here’s the spread that awaited them:
[Clockwise from upper left: industrial-sized mixed fruit salad, plate of strawberry scones and Cinnamon Crumb Coffee Cake; more Cinnamon Crumb Coffee Cake; Raw Kale and Avocado Salad; sweet potato and black bean salad; strawberry "cream cheese" spread.]
Since their family are all what I’d call “conventional” eaters (not quite the Standard American Diet, but they do consume meat, eggs, gluten, sugar, etc.), I aimed for some yummy baked goods and even offered up a basket of (glutenous) bread and English muffins (which, I was told, are the kids’ favorites). The HH also cooked up omelets for those who so chose. Which meant. . . everyone except my cousin and me.
Still, the two older kids tried some sweet potato-black bean salad (based on this one–simply sub black beans for chickpeas and sweet potato for squash) and everyone tried the scones and coffee cake. My cousin’s oldest daughter really enjoyed the strawberry “cream cheese” spread, too. I was a bit sad that the children didn’t try the kale and avocado salad, though, which remains a huge favorite for the HH and me.
Apart from their eating habits, I was truly amazed at how polite and well-behaved the children were (ages 4, 9, and 13), considering that ours is not exactly what I’d call a Fisher-Price playground (no toys, no crayons, no candy, no swimming pool–basically, just two food-obsessed dogs who will perform tricks ad nauseum if it means they get a treat). And really, I didn’t expect to change their established eating habits in one brunch!
So, it looks like the HH and I will be consuming a fair bit of leftovers over the next few days, and that’s just fine by me. I’d say it’s a good thing I didn’t try to serve up what we ate for yesterday’s dinner (see photo at the top of this post)–about which I’ll tell you next time.
In other news: I’m thrilled to announce that I’ve been working with Holistic Health Counselor Andrea Nakayama developing Sweet Victory, a two-week sugar detox course which we’ll be offering online toward the end of July! Andrea has established herself as the foremost nutritional counselor in the Portland area, and I have great respect for her knowledge and approach as a holistic professional (I also think she’s pretty cool, in general!). Now, I’m also proud to call her a colleague as well. Stay tuned for more details!
“Mum, I resemble that remark. I mean, what’s wrong with tricks for treats? Humans do it all the time at Halloween.”
[Chaser enjoying her own form of celebration on Canada Day.]
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]
Thanks to everyone who entered the giveaway for a copy of Amy’s book, Simply Sugar and Gluten Free! I was thrilled that so many of you are interested in cooking without gluten or sugar. . . and having this book full of delicious and easy recipes!
Thanks to random.org, we have a winner!
Congratulations to Caroline, Number 103! Here’s Caroline’s comment:
Wow, these all sound amazing and incredibly healthy! I’m sure her cookbook has even more great recipes to look at and try!
Well, Caroline, now you’ll be able to try them! Please email me at dietdessertdogsATgmailDOTcom with your full name and mailing address so I can be sure your book gets out to you asap.
And be sure to come back tomorrow when I post my savory submission to this month’s SOS Kitchen Challenge featuring blueberries!
“Yeah, congrats to Caroline, Mum! And I do hope you know that dogs like blueberries, too, right?”
Today is a great day to appreciate all the dads in our lives, whoever they may be (or were), and the many ways they have an impact on what we do throughout the year.
For those of you who are celebrating today, Happy Father’s Day!
“Dad, maybe you’ve only got two legs, you don’t howl very well, and there’s that whole “opposable thumbs” thing going on, but we don’t care–we still appreciate the weekend trail walks, how well you can throw a ball and a Frisbee, all the belly rubs, and especially those extra treats you give us when Mum doesn’t see.”
“Zip it, Chaser–now you’ve really gone and done it! Don’t you know that Mum also reads this blog?! Argh!”
[Perhaps imperfect, but recognizably egg-like in shape, right?]
One of my first paying jobs was working as a cashier at the local drugstore in a strip mall near my house, where, as it happened, three of my closest friends and I all got jobs. It wasn’t unusual for all four of us to work the same shift on a Saturday, two stationed on one side of the exit door, two on the other. We’d stand looking across at each other, our nonstop chatter filling the store like sound effects to rival the piped-in Muzak, as the sun streamed in through huge picture windows on the wall beside us.
We considered our boss, the Evil “Mr. M—r” (let’s just call him “Mr,” in a Color Purple sort of way), to be a veritable task master. If he caught us talking to each other–or simply standing idle for more than 30 seconds (even if no customers were in sight),–we’d be instantly reprimanded. “Go restock the toilet paper,” MR would bark, or “here, price this case of toothpaste tubes,” or “Face the antacid shelves.” If the store was really quiet, he’d have us do something even more demeaning, like mopping the floors in the back.
We had our own methods of entertaining ourselves, of course, to which MR was never privy. We’d assign code names to cute guys (“Rothmans,” the heavy-duty cigarettes smoked by steely blue-eyed cowboy types, was a favorite) or roll our eyes knowingly when the uppity girls from our high school sashayed into the store and stocked up on hair gel and mousses. Or we’d sing our favorite duets, like “I Got You, Babe,” or imitate MR’s nasal drawl (when he was out of the store, of course). Years later, Sterlin and I decided we’d write a screenplay about our experiences there called The Phunny Pharm (as in, “pharmacy,” get it? Oh, my, weren’t we just too hilarious!–I mean, phunny!).
Holiday weekends, with so many people off work, were notoriously unpredictable; they were either deadly boring or incredibly busy. One Easter Saturday, Sterlin and I were assigned opposite cashes. By 8:15 AM, we’d already tidied the countertops, re-folded newspapers into neat piles and straightened out the candy bars.
“MR will kill us if he comes in and sees that we’re not doing anything,” I mused. But then we noticed the recent shipment of chocolate Easter bunnies piled unceremoniously on the floor near our cashes. Even though there was a perfectly good display table at the end of the aisle, with a perfectly good tabletop on which they could have been stacked, most of the boxes had been strewn on the floor or worse, pushed right under it.
Each box housed a cute little brown or white molded rabbit, some with blue candy eyes or pink candy noses, some with perky ears pointing straight up, others with one ear up and one pressed back against their heads. They were all made of that high-gloss, waxy compound “chocolatey” substance that, truth be told, I just loved; I could have eaten an entire (3/4 pound/340 g), $12.99-a-box, confection all by myself. In fact, my love of chocolate bunnies was matched only by my love of Cadbury Creme Eggs, another Easter staple.
“Let’s fix the display!” Sterlin suggested. So we spent the good part of an hour (there were no customers that early–we barely served a single “Rothmans” the entire time) carefully stacking the boxes in neat rows, pyramid-style, taking care to alternate between dark and light bunnies or those looking to the left and those looking to the right so they’d present incoming customers with an interesting tableau of shapes and sizes.
We had just congratulated ourselves on our initiative when the hoards suddenly appeared. Our friends Babe and Angel were called into service as well, while I was deployed to the cosmetics department to help Claudette, the Parisian cosmetician who had immigrated to Montreal to be with her beau. Glamorous and exotic (at least, to me), Claudette wore thick false eyelashes and eyelids frosted in baby blue, her platinum blond hair slicked back to reveal her perfect, model-like features. For some reason, Claudette took a liking to me, so I was often gifted with samples of perfume, lipstick or eye shadow (actually intended for paying customers) to take home.
The hours flew by; by 8:30 PM when the store closed, we were all exhausted. I was relieved that I’d spent the day in cosmetics, which meant I didn’t have money to count (though I had managed to score a free lipstick and aluminum-lined pouch of hand lotion). While I waited for my friends to count up their tills, I wandered up and down the aisles. Should I bring home some newly-priced toothpaste, I wondered? Or maybe my parents were out of Kleenex. . . as I strolled over to the cash registers at the front, I my eyes glanced toward the Easter bunny display.
Only. . .
There was no bunny display any longer.
Oh, the boxes were still there, all right, still stacked in perfect rows, just as Sterlin and I had placed them that morning. But the little plastic windows appeared empty. On closer examination, I witnessed cwhat an only be described as “a bunny massacre.”
[The easier option: cubes instead of ovoids. Still delicious.]
All of the perkly little rabbits in their boxes appeared deformed, morphed into shapeless blobs with awkward lumps and bumps where their ears had once been. Others had completely lost their tails or their hind legs, flowing into puddles of muddy chocolate under them.
It took me a second to realize what had precipitated that scene of lupin carnage: the huge, ceiling-to-floor, all-glass picture windows! An entire day of brilliant sunshine! The sun had been shining for the better part of ten hours–directly on those boxes. The poor rabbits had all succumbed to the heat and melted, like Oz’s Wicked Witch of the West. No wonder all those boxes had previously been placed under the table–in the shade.
I must have shrieked, before I myself succumbed to hystrical laughter. By then, Sterlin had come running over and spied the scene, screeching her hilarity. Even Herbert, the normally staid pharmacist, couldn’t help but emit a snort and guffaw.
The entire front row of chocolate bunnies (those that Sterlin and I had so meticulously placed on the shelf that morning) were ruined. I mean, who would be willing to purchase a blob of shapeless melted chocolate for $12.99? And although the maneuver had been unintentional, Sterlin and I couldn’t help but smirk at the thought that this error in our judgment would, in the end, mean that the Evil MR received his just desserts (so to speak).
That night, I arrived home with three chocolate brnnnesss (that’s “Melted” for “bunnies.”) I didn’t mind that my rabbits were deformed, looking like rejects from a GMO product-development experiment. Later that evening, after dinner, everyone enjoyed a big blob of smooth, shapeless, waxy chocolate for dessert.
When I heard about Kelly’s Our Spunky Holiday event, in which readers were invited to submit a dessert for Easter or Passover, I immediately thought of those bunnies. Sure, I realize I could never concoct something similar in my own kitchen (let alone reproduce that favorite waxy texture). Instead, I opted for chocolate covered Easter eggs with a “cream cheese” filling, as close as I could get to the iconic Cadbury Creme eggs.
Unlike those unfortunate bunnies, these Easter Ovoids are only slightly misshapen, however. Because I don’t own egg molds (and because I am basically lazy), my “eggs” turned out, oh, just a wee bit lumpy and bumpy. But have no fear; just like the bunnies of yore, these confections still taste delicious. Housing a soft, smooth, lemony “cream cheese” filling, they are perfect Easter treats.
And–I promise you–no bunnies were harmed in the making of these eggs.
[Soft, creamy "cheesecake" interior. ]
[RECIPE UDATE, APRIL 20: Ack! I just noticed that I typed "orange juice' in the filling by mistake! While that's fine (it will taste great), for a more "cream cheese" like taste, use the lemon juice option (and if you're on the ACD, you're not allowed orange juice. What was I thinking?!]
Chocolate Covered Cheesecake Easter Eggs, suitable for ACD Stage 3 and beyond
If you don’t have egg molds or don’t feel like taking the trouble to make these egg-shaped, you can just pour the “cheese” filling into a square container, then cut in cubes and coat in chocolate, as I do in this recipe.
For the “Cheesecake” Filling:
1 heaping cup (160 g) raw natural cashews
2 Tbsp (30 ml) freshly squeezed lemon or orange juice (use lemon for ACD)
1 Tbsp (15 ml) coconut sugar or agave nectar
10-20 drops plain or vanilla stevia liquid, to your taste
1 tsp (5 ml) pure vanilla extract
1 tsp (5 ml) lemon extract, optional
1/4 cup (60 ml) full-fat coconut milk (from a can–I use Thai Kitchen)
1 tsp (5 ml) whole chia seeds, ground in a coffee grinder to a fine powder (about 2 heaping tsp or 10 ml powder)
1/2 tsp (2. 5 ml) lemon zest
For the Chocolate Coating**:
4 ounces (110 g) good quality unsweetened chocolate (I find Baker’s too bitter for this purpose)
1 Tbsp (15 ml) extra virgin coconut oil, preferably organic (use refined if you want no coconut flavor)
2 Tbsp (30 ml) carob powder, sifted
20-30 drops plain or vanilla stevia, to your taste (don’t overdo the stevia–better to keep it bittersweet)
Make the filling: If you have egg-shaped silicone molds (or other shapes that would be easy to coat in chocolate), set them aside. Otherwise, line a small square container (about 2 cups/480 ml capacity) with plastic wrap and set aside.
In a glass or ceramic bowl, cover the cashews with room temperature water and soak for 6-10 hours; drain. (Alternately, pour boiling water over the cashews in the bowl and allow to soak for 30 minutes to an hour; drain).
Place the cashews and remaining cheesecake ingredients in a high-powered blender (such as a VitaMix) and blend until perfectly smooth. The mixture will be thick and you’ll need to scrape down the sides of the blender container repeatedly. Transfer to the molds or container, then freeze until just firm, 3-4 hours.
For eggs (if you don’t have molds), use a small ice cream scoop and scoop the firm mixture onto a cutting board or plastic-lined plate. Using your hands or two tablespoons, shape each ball into an oval and place back on the board; return to the freezer. Otherwise, invert the entire block of filling onto the cutting board and cut into small cubes; return the cubes to the freezer. Freeze the eggs or cubes until very hard, another 2-4 hours.
Make the coating: In a small, heavy-bottomed pot, melt the chocolate with the coconut oil over very low heat. Whisk in the carob powder and stevia until smooth. Transfer to a small, deep bowl.
Finish the eggs: Have a clean, plastic-lined board or plate at the ready. Working quickly, take the eggs (or cubes) one at a time and dip the bottom in the chocolate. Then place the egg gently on the tines of a large fork over the bowl (chocolate dipped side down) and, using a teaspoon, spoon melted chocolate over the top of the egg so that it runs down the top and sides and coats the entire egg. Tap the handle of the fork against the side of the bowl so that excess chocolate drips into the bowl. Gently push the egg off the fork and onto the plastic-lined plate. Depending on how quickly you work, you may want to keep the uncoated eggs in the freezer and just take them out one at a time.
Once all the eggs are coated, use any extra chocolate in the bowl to touch up little holes or spots on the eggs that aren’t well-coated in chocolate (any cracks or white spots will allow the cheesecake filling to seep through the coating later, once it is no longer frozen). Place the plate with the coated eggs in the refrigerator to allow the filling inside to defrost. Once the middle is no longer frozen (several hours to overnight), the cheesecake interior will be soft, creamy and smooth when you bite into it. For frozen cheesecake treats, keep the eggs in the freezer rather than the refrigerator. Makes 6-8 eggs.
**NOTE: if you are not on the ACD or don’t mind sugar, you can just use chocolate chips melted with 1 tsp (5 ml) coconut oil for the coating.
I’m also submitting this recipe to Diane’s Real Food Weekly event for a real holiday treat, and to Amy’s Slightly Indulgent Tuesdays, where you’ll find healthier versions of all kinds of recipes.
[What I should have made for our Christmas dinner this year. . . . ]
What. . . is it December 27th, already?? Hope you’ve all had a wonderful holiday season so far! I must confess, the last few days have been among the laziest of my life. And you know what? It felt great!
So what have the HH, the Girls and I been up to since I last visited this space? Here’s a quick recap:
The Girls Express their Annoyance. The Girls posed for their 2010 Christmas card, and if all your comments are any indication, they clearly seemed peeved at having to don those costumes. Let’s just say I’ll never be another William Wegman. (“Mum, we weren’t annoyed so much as impatient. . . for our presents! Thanks for those treats we got! And can we have more of that white stuff? Oh, and who is that handsome Weimeraner in that photo?!”).
Start the Day Off Right. After sleeping in until we awoke naturally sans alarm, the HH and I bounded out of bed to open our gifts. And while they were polite enough not to disturb us while we slept, the Girls were certainly lively enough as soon as they confirmed we were awake:
["Elsie, play with me or I will eat you!"]
So, while the HH took the dogs for a trail walk, I set about making a hearty brunch to tide us over until dinnertime:
[These fabulous pancakes, topped with homemade sweet almond-coconut butter and plum sauces, with eggplant bacon (recipe coming soon).]
Best to Stick with Tradition, Even if It’s Non-Traditional. Those of you who’ve been reading DDD for a while will likely recall that our regular holiday tradition for the past few years has been an Indian feast, often shared with the CFO. Well, when my sister couldn’t make it this year, the HH proclaimed, “I want something traditional! I want TURKEY!”.
Regular readers will also know that the HH eats, well, everything. And as long as he prepares his own food, I don’t attempt to influence what he consumes. So off we went to get an organic turkey for him to cook. While he roasted his turkey, I prepared my new recipe for a holiday nutroast.
By 7:00 PM, dinner was finally served. Here’s my plate:
As I said, I shouldn’t have messed with our (non-traditional) tradition. While tasty enough, my nut roast was not what I’d call a success. I do have an inkling of how to improve it and will share as soon as I give it a try.
Turkey =Doggie Crack. The Girls, on the other hand, devoured their turkey scraps in no short order. This was the first time Chaser ever tasted turkey, and let me tell you, the crazed look it sparked in her eye was even more frenzied than usual. I got the stare pretty much the rest of the day.
[What was that white stuff, Mum? And can I please have some more?"]
And Elsie wasn’t immune, either:
[I've just got to be patient, and I'm sure there will be more turkey forthcoming. . . . "]
It’s Good to Chillax. I think that last week of school, frantic prepping for Christmas, buying a new car (so that the HH can have my old car, since his was totalled) and various and sundry other errands has wiped a goodly portion of my mind clean, sort of the way reformatting clears out your hard drive. I’ve felt pretty much incapable of any sustained thought or activity since Christmas morning, wandering around the past few days in a bit of a haze (albeit with a semi smile on my face and a very full belly), without much to say in this space. The HH is off work until the first week of January, so we’ll be spending quite a bit of time together.
["Life is so rough when you're waiting for turkey. . . *sigh*."]
Yesterday morning, for instance, the HH and I (after sleeping in yet again), spent most of the AM reading the entire newspaper, front to back, for the first time in months.
[The HH's coffee cup, and the news: freak east coast snowstorms and Boxing Day Deals.]
Then we proceeded to clean up the detritus from our Christmas dinner:
[The HH's wine glass, the morning after. Sadly, no wine for me this year. Damn you, ACD!]
We sat by the fireplace, sipped on coffee/matcha tea and listened to music (including my new Pink CD, a gift from the HH):
[On the left: my matcha tea. On the right: the HH's wine glass. . . afternoon incarnation.]
I also went to see How Do You Knowwith my friend Eternal Optimist yesterday afternoon (we had planned on The King’s Speech, but they were sold out; still, Reese Witherspoon is always winsome, and that Paul Rudd is such a cutie).
And now, after even more lounging about today, I finally feel ready to leap back in to cooking and blogging about recipes.
["Elsie, do you think we'll get any more turkey?"]
Sorry to say I won’t be sharing that nut roast recipe just yet.
In the meantime, here’s the recipe for the African Sweet Potato Stew I mentioned in this post, which some of you asked about. It’s a tried-and-true success that I’ve made many times in the past. It’s hearty, filling, with chunks of sweet potato and chickpeas bathed in a rich, creamy coconut milk gravy that’s infused with a variety of spices and the mineral-rich addition of collards.
Perhaps I should add it to the menu for next year’s Christmas feast.
The list of ingredients does seem long, but so much of this is spice that the actual prep time isn’t as much as you’d think. The recipe makes a huge vat of stew, so you can package and freeze it for later consumption, too.
1 Tbsp (15 ml) coconut or extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
1 large onion, chopped
1 thumb-size piece ginger, peeled and chopped
4 garlic cloves, chipped
1/2 cup (120 ml) cilantro leaves, chopped
1 red bell pepper, cored and chopped
1 small jalapeno pepper, minced (or use 1/2 tsp/1.5 ml chili flakes)
1 Tbsp (15 ml) ground cumin
1 tsp (5 ml) whole mustard seeds, brown or yellow
2 tsp (10 ml) ground coriander
1 tsp (5 ml) ground turmeric
1 tsp (5 ml) paprika
1/4 tsp (1 ml) cayenne pepper
1 large can (19 oz or 500 ml) diced tomatoes, drained (reserve the juice)
2 medium sweet potatoes, peeled and chopped into 1-inch (2.5 cm) cubes
2-3 medium white potatoes, chopped into 1-inch (2.5 cm) cubes
1 can (12 oz or 400 ml) coconut milk
1/3 cup (80 ml) natural smooth almond or peanut butter (use almond for ACD)
1 pound (500 g) collard greens, midribs removed and shredded
2 cups (480 ml) cooked chickpeas
Heat the oil in a large pot or dutch oven over medium heat; add the onion, ginger, garlic and cilantro and sauté until the onion is translucent, about 7 minutes. Add the red pepper, jalapeno, cumin, mustard seeds, corinder, trumeric, paprika and cayenne and cook a couple more minutes. Add the tomatoes, sweet potatoes, potatoes and coconut milk; cover and bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer, covered, until the potatoes are soft, about 15 minutes.
Place the almond butter in a small bowl or glass measuring cup and scoop about 1/2 cup of the liquid from the stew, adding it to the nut butter; mix well, until smooth. Pour the mixture back into the pot and blend it in. Add the collards and chickpeas and continue to cook until the greens are soft, another 5-10 minutes. If the sauce is too thin, allow to simmer, uncovered, stirring occasionally, until desired thickness is reached. Serve over rice or cooked quinoa. Makes 6-8 servings. May be frozen.
To all who celebrate, wishing you a very Merry Christmas, and a happy, happy holidays to all! Here’s to days of fun and relaxation, time surrounded by loving family and friends, great food and treats, and all the gifts you dream of.
“Mum, you know we’d never be doing this if not for the “treats” part, right? But that’s okay, because I LOVE the treats part! Oh, and the presents! And the playing catch in the snow!! But maybe I could take off this Santa hat first. . . and oooh, this Santa collar is kind of itching me a little bit. . . ”
“Chaser, what do you have to complain about? Look at the getup she’s got ME wearing this year! Just zip it–or we’ll never get out of these darned costumes. . . *sigh*. “
Another week of Vegan MoFo is over–and I’m still standing (or, to be more precise, sitting here at my desk). I can hardly believe how quickly the past three weeks have whizzed by! I must admit, I am stretching more than culinary muscles with this event. My usual modus operandi for blog posts is to let them stew a bit before posting, but there’s no time for that with MoFo. And speaking of stew, who (other than the professionals, of course) has time to cook something new each and every day? Not I.
Consequently, today’s post is another recap of the week just past, plus a few ruminations about birthdays. Blog birthdays, to be precise.
Weekly Recap: During the past week, DDD introduced another Festive Freebie giveaway (a baking kit starring–CHOCOLATE! Could there be a more alluring food? I think not. You can still enter until midnight tomorrow) and the third installment of “A Gluten Free Holiday” event (with its own giveaway–check out Alta’s post to see the two gluten free cookbooks on offer!). I also baked up some Coco-Nut Shortbread Buttons, made a Roasted Chestnut and Parsnip Soup, and put together homemade “Chocolate Bark” with carob and mixed nuts. Oh, and I was a guest on Toronto’s local Daytime show on the Rogers network for the first time! Getting to the studio for 9:00 AM was a bit of a challenge in Toronto’s rush hour (a 29 kilometer/18 mile drive took over 1-1/2 hours!!!), but the segment was lots of fun and I really enjoyed meeting the hosts.
Amid all the excitement the past few weeks, I never did write about my blog’s third anniversary, which happened a couple of weeks ago! I had fully intended to devote an entire blog post to the topic. Instead, because it’s MoFo and I haven’t had time to write said post, I’ve decided to enumerate a few of the most crucial lessons I’ve learned through blogging.
There is nothing like the friends you meet through blogging. I’m sure you’ve heard this one before, but I have to reiterate: there is really nothing else like the blogging community. When I talk about my blogging buddies (other bloggers or readers whom I’ve gotten to know) with my local friends and family, I am invariably met with a blank, slightly denigrating stare. And yet, as I’ve remarked to the HH on many occasions, my blogger friends often know more about what’s going on currently in my life and are more frequently in touch than my “real” friends and relatives (well, except for the ones on Facebook or twitter, of course).
["Thanks for the help, Elsie. You're a real pal."]
It never ceases to amaze me how generous, caring, and helpful the people who blog, and their readers, are. They’ll support you in your latest endeavor (no matter how wacky); they’ll wish you well when it’s your birthday or anniversary, they’ll email when it seems as if you might be having a hard time (and even email you when it seems someone else is having a hard time, so that you can get in touch with that person), they’ll cheer you on when you succeed, they’ll post helpful suggestions when you don’t. I feel very privileged to have met a few of my blogging buddies in person, too. I loved that there was no awkward “getting to know” them phase, either–we just dove in as if we were already old friends.
Because we were.
["This is a great read, Mum, but where are all the animals?"]
Bloggers Love a Good Bon Mot. Okay, this one may be my own quirky observation, but as a college English professor, I’ve seen literacy decline alarmingly over the past decade (tangential rant: the proper pronoun is “its,” not “it’s”! That’s right: no apostrophe. “It’s” is a contraction that means “it is.” If you can’t replace the word with “it is,” there’s no apostrophe!! No apostrophe!!! Aaaarrrggghhh! [pulls at hair like a banshee]).
Yet I’ve noticed that pretty much all bloggers, whether daily posters (or thrice-daily–is this woman mortal??) or twice-a-week like me, all revel in the craft of writing. Indeed, you’d have to love it in order to write consistently and then expose your work to public scrutiny on a regular basis. It’s (ie, “it is”) become clear to me that the problems in the college classroom are not indicative of writing everywhere, however. Most bloggers I read, even thereallyyoungones, are better writers than most of the young people I meet in other areas of my life (sorry, guys. Maybe you should begin a blog?). These days, a huge portion of my reading material appears online, and I am regularly inspired, entertained, educated, or reassured by what I read.
["Sorry, Mum, I just don't see the appeal of this blogging stuff. . . . oh, you mean, I have to turn it ON first?"]
Blogging is an Integral Part of Bloggers’ Lives. In order to blog in the first place, blogging requires its (ie, “belonging to it”) users to embrace new technologies just to sign on. So it makes sense that those same people would also embrace other opportunities for growth in their lives–and continue to blog right through them.
In my own case, a surprise diagnosis of candida caused a complete shift in my diet and the kinds of foods about which I write (and I am eternally grateful to all you loyal readers who’ve stuck with me despite all that!). Some bloggers find themselves in similar situations and the dietary shift is reflected on their blogs; others find themselves returning to previous eating habits. Sometimes, a blog is renamed after someone feels they’re no longer connected to the original concept. Bloggers changetheircareers, graduate, retire, get married, havebabies, move across the country, move across the planet–and they still continue to blog. And, perhaps most obviously, they keep cooking up new foods, posting new recipes and trying out new and unique combinations of ingredients–and share it all with the rest of us.
The blogosphere truly is a microcosm of the outside world, and while it may exist on the virtual plane, it offers many of the same social interactions, connections, benefits and opportunities as the world outside the blog.
You know how parents always say, “I had no idea how much I’d love this baby until s/he was born”? Well, blogging is like that: it’s inconceivable how much it will become a vital part of your life until you’re right there in the thick of it. And once you are, you can’t imagine ever going back to how it was before.
Thank you to every one of you who reads this blog, who comments, who writes a blog of your own–to all of you I’ve come to know and cherish over the past three years. It’s been a joy and a privilege, and I am grateful for how much my life has been enriched immeasurably because of all of you.
[And thanks from us, too--because the more Mum blogs, the more there's food in the house--and that means more leftovers for us! Yay!"]
* actually, three years plus a few weeks–but that’s how far behind I am in writing my blog posts!
“Here it is, Halloween again, and once again, Mum has us decked in these silly costumes. . . seriously, Mum, Lady Gaga?? I mean, how many more years will I have to put up with such indignities? A bad romance, indeed. . . . “
“What do you mean, Elsie? I LOVED my costume this year! I was thrilled with it! I adored it! I could have a costume like this one every year! It was fantastic! It was stupendous! It was incredibly delicious!—slurp, slurp—
Um, what? What do you mean, I wasn’t supposed to EATthe dress? Ooops. . . ”
And I replied with this:
