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]
[The main course table from my recent holiday potluck with nutritionist friends, clockwise from top left: [out of the photo--Balsamic Glazed Brussels Sprouts]; Southwest Brown Rice Casserole with Beans [white bowl behind cutlery]; Tempeh-Brown Rice Curry and Vegetables; Baby Spinach Salad; Rutabaga Gratin; Cinque Pizza with olives, green pepper, faux meat and onion; and (in red casserole in center) Carrot and Sweet Potato Latkes. The latkes were fried–I have no idea what kind of oil she used. Yes, I ate one.]
In recent years, it seems, we’ve all become hyper aware of the connection between food and health; it’s one of the hottest topics on the internet, twitter, blogs, or in magazines; you can’t read anything, flick on the television or listen to the radio without someone discussing a new study or mentioning a specific food and how it is or is not good for us. Goji berries? Superfood. Kale? Will save your eyes. Sugar? The devil. Trans fats? Avoid at all costs. Refined flours? Shortcut to a heart attack. And so on. How do you decide what to eat?
Well, I had originally planned to tackle this rather amorphous topic in the new year, once we’d all recovered a bit from the holidays and I had more time to craft a thoughtful post about it (since I’ll be on vacation then–whoo hoo!). Instead, I’m going to leap right in today after receiving the following comment on the Simply Bar giveaway post (the first part in quotation marks is what I wrote in the original post itself):
“In addition, the company has prided itself on using real, natural ingredients, without any added fillers in their bars. For example, the “Cocoa with Raspberry” flavor contains soy crisps (like rice crisps in texture and taste), organic agave nectar, organic brown rice syrup, organic cocoa, raspberries, organic canola oil.” Six ingredients–that’s it!”
SOY CRISPS! has the world gone mad? I appreciate that these bars only have a few ingredients in them, but they are a few, highly processed ingredients.
Soy crisps – a bean that is only truly digestible when fermented, is processed into a crisp?
Canola oil – oil that is high in inflammation promoting omega 6, processed from rapeseeds and should only be eaten raw.
Agave syrup – the sugars of the agave cactus without the natural brake of fibre, controversy rages about whether it is low or high GI.
Brown Rice syrup – sugars inherent in rice – highly processed, super high GI, even though it’s brown rice!
Only six ingredients? Whatever happened to the good old nut and fruit bars of my childhood made entirely from nuts and dried fruit? I’d rather have a bar of dark chocolate than one of these!
Since I not only promoted the bar on my blog but actually eat them, I felt a response was in order (and I will respond to the email itself toward the end of the post).
First, let me outline how I decide what to eat and what not to eat; here, then, are the principles I follow and firmly believe in when it comes to “eating healthfully.” (This is not a post about how to keep to a healthy diet over the holidays; I dealt with that subject here. )
[African Sweet Potato Stew--pretty darned good for you.]
I. Aim for a Diet That’s 100% “Good-for-You”. . . .
More than anything else about food, I believe that we are, literally, made up of what we put into our mouths, whether food, drink, or breath. Whether fresh or rancid, pesticide-laden or organic, whole grain or refined, local or imported, dirt-still-clinging-to-its-roots or packed in a BPA-lined bag inside a box, food will contribute to the makeup of every cell in your body.
In nutrition school, we learned about a diet called NAG–Natural, Alive, and Good Quality. I wrote more about it in this post. Basically, the diet aims to include only real, whole, unprocessed and organic ingredients, with most (if not all) nutrition coming from plant sources. Lucky for me, I love healthy foods (I also happen to love unhealthy foods–but that’s a topic for another post).
My own tweaks to the NAG foundation were made because of the anti-candida diet I now follow (about which I wrote more here and here), and include, for the most part: no sugar (and most other sweeteners), no sweet fruits; nothing fermented (with a few exceptions); nothing moldy or yeasty (mushrooms, nutritional yeast, alcoholic beverages, many nuts and some fruits, etc); nothing highly processed (packaged or most canned goods); no gluten; very few legumes; no eggs or dairy. (The ACD typcially allows organic chicken, beef and fish, but I don’t eat those.) I include tofu occasionally, which is considered “acceptable” in about half the anti-candida diets out there (there is quite a bit of variation about what is included in the diet).
With the ACD, you will ideally re-introduce many of the banned foods after you’ve been following it for a while and are feeling better. For instance, now that I’ve been on the diet for over two years and am 90% better, I am eating some fruits, using (gluten free) flours, and consuming the very occasional treat with agave nectar or coconut sugar.
About my own eating habits, let me be clear: during the first couple of phases of the ACD, I followed the diet one hundred percent, 100% of the time–I never “cheated.” That’s because I was in great distress about my poor health and wanted to heal as quickly as possible. However, as one of our teachers at nutrition school remarked, even following the ACD “most of the time” will, eventually, lead to diminished yeast in the body and better health; it will just take longer.
[This would definitely be a rare treat. . . even if I weren't on the ACD. Cake recipe in Sweet Freedom; frosting here.]
II. . . .90% of the Time.
Just as highschool graduates might send their first applications to Ivy League schools; as aspiring editors aim to nab a spot at a ”big house” like Farrar, Straus and Giroux; or as newly-graduated life coaches dreams of being on Oprah, when it comes to eating, I believe we should endeavor to eat only the best quality, healthiest foods. But what happens when the grad isn’t accepted by Harvard or Yale; if the young editor is offered a job at Harlequin; or the life coach lands a local radio spot instead? Do they decline the lesser offer, or worse–give up entirely? Of course not.
In an ideal universe, I’d be eating a top-notch, 100% “perfect” diet all the time. My meals would be 70% raw, all organic, as close as possible to the condition they’re in when they’re plucked from the ground, and entirely unprocessed–things like this, or this, or this. While I may have lofty ideals when it comes to food and eating, I understand that reality doesn’t always comply. Consequently, I try not to beat myself up if I can’t achieve that ideal. If I can remain compliant 90% of the time, I’m okay with having something less than perfect the other 10%. (Certainly, there are otherfoodbloggers out there who manage such menus far more often–and more consistently–than I).
For example, I’ve mentioned before that the HH enjoys eating in restaurants, and we still frequent them occasionally. I’ve found a couple of places that actually serve ACD-friendly food (at one, ”Israeli Salad” consisting of fresh cucumber, tomato and onion with olive oil and lemon juice alongside hummus; at the other, gluten free pizza crust with toppings of my choice, usually roasted garlic, baked tomato, red onion, spinach and black olives). As a result, we tend to patronize either of those most of the time.
Once a month, though, we head to a Malaysian restaurant I adore. They’re willing to provide vegan options and also hold the sugar at my request. Great! But I am fairly certain that they don’t grease their woks with organic coconut oil (or anything organic, for that matter); and I am not willing to stress about this. If I consume a small quantity of less-than-healthy oil once a month, I rely on the remaining 90% of my uber-healthy diet to compensate; it’s worth it to me to be able to enjoy the rest of the meal.
For the past couple of years, I’ve been rediscovering books by Geneen Roth and am devoted to her intuitive approach to eating–letting your body determine when, what and how much you eat. The woman has effectively peeked into my psyche (and my pantry), and I relate to her ideas on food as psychological comfort, how food serves many other purposes besides nourishment, and how we can learn to enjoy eating in the most natural and instinctive fashion. I’m not entirely “there” yet when it comes to attending to my body’s messages, but I’m learning.
I had my first epiphany about listening to my body only about a month ago, when I first began to experiment with coconut sugar. Having baked only with stevia (and a miniscule amount of yacon or agave) until then, being able to use a one-for-one sugar replacement was thrilling. I went a little crazy in the kitchen, baking cookies, brownies, bars, muffins and whatever else I could think of. I also tasted them all. . . and then some. I probably ate more baked goods in that week than I had in the previous six months. If that episode had occurred two years ago, it would likely have spiralled into an endless round of sweet binges, fuelled by sugar and guilt and the rationalization that “it’s the holidays.”
Instead, something odd occurred: I suddenly didn’t feel like eating so many sweets any more. My body said, “Give me kale! Give me black bean soup! Give me cinque e’ cinque!” (somehow, my body managed to pick up Italian while I was sleeping). I averted a crisis simply by listening to the physical signals I routinely ignored in the past. It felt great, and I’m striving to improve my skills in that area, and practise it more often. Your body intuitively knows what’s good for you. Listen to it.
Earlier yesterday on twitter, a famous vegan cookbook author asked, “Q: how much oil in a recipe before you won’t make it? Does mention of 1/2 c olive oil freak anyone out? 1/3 cup better? What is OK?”. Well, I think the answer depends on several factors. What kind of oil is it? How many servings does the recipe make? How much of it will I be eating at one sitting? How often will I eat it? Half cup (the amount in the recipe) is 8 tablespoons (120 ml) or 24 teaspoons (24 x 5 ml). If the dish yields 20 servings (a baked dessert), that’s less than 2 teaspoons per serving. If it’s a main course that makes 8-10 servings, it’s still 1 tablespoon or less per serving–less than most people use on one salad. Mostly, I wouldn’t think twice if the dish were a special occasion recipe–it’s only once in a while, anyway.
What struck me about the exchange was the idea that based on the amount of oil alone, people would eschew the entire recipe. I know people who eat raw coconut oil by the tablespoon, yet the idea of 1/2 cup in an entire recipe is anathema.
A while back, I was asked in a comment on this post about whether roasting nuts renders them less healthy–and, of course, the short answer is “yes.” But do I want to eat raw nut butter all of the time? No. I like the taste of toasted nuts better than the taste of raw nuts. Nuts still contain healthy fats. They are still a real food. So I eat them toasted sometimes, and I don’t worry about it.
My point is that you can be so focused on the health-related characteristics of your food that you overlook the fact that food is supposed to taste good and confer pleasure. As Andrew Weil notes in his book, Eating Well for Optimum Health, a rigid adherence to eating only “healthy” foods can negate the pleasure we get from sharing our meals with others–and sometimes the social contact is more important to our health than the absolute quality of the food we’re eating.
Which brings me back to the comment that started it all. Here’s my response to each of the points made by the commenter:
Soy crisps – a bean that is only truly digestible when fermented, is processed into a crisp?Yes, soy crisps are processed (they contain non-GMO soy protein, tapioca starch and salt); see my comments above about 90%/10%. As I’ve mentioned before, even though fermented soy is more easily digestible than non-fermented (eg, tofu), I do not avoid tofu or other non-fermented soy (eg, soymilk) in moderation. It is a great source of protein and contains isoflavones that are advantageous in myriad ways, plus many other health benefits. While it’s not for everyone (you can read about the pros and cons yourself), for me, soy’s numerous health benefits–and the fact that it’s been a staple food in many Asian cultures for centuries–makes it a desirable food.
Canola oil – oil that is high in inflammation promoting omega 6, processed from rapeseeds and should only be eaten raw. As far as I know (or can find information in my nutrition texts and online), canola oil is considered a “monounsaturated fat” because it contains mostly (about 55%) monounsaturated fatty acids. Like any oil, canola is made up of mono-, poly- and saturated fats in different ratios. It does contain Omega 6 oil, but it also contains a larger percent of Omega 3. In any case, unless the canola is organic and cold pressed, I wouldn’t want to consume it at all. Like any oil that is liquid at room temperature, canola is best when unheated. It might not be my first choice for baking or cooking (I don’t ever use it at home); however, I am not too concerned about eating a snack with it on occasion (see point II, above).
Agave syrup – the sugars of the agave cactus without the natural brake of fibre, controversy rages about whether it is low or high GI. I know that some people think agave is evil. I am not one of those people. The glycemic index (GI) of agave, when organic and processed without excess heat or chemicals, is relatively low (38 or so). Like any other natural sweetener, agave is harmful in large quantities. However, having readseveralarticles about it, I’ve decided that, for me, agave is a good sweetener as long as it’s organic and not overly processed. Like maple syrup, it requires some processing to convert the raw sap into what we buy in the store. It is still a delicious, low glycemic sweetener–but like any sweetener, should be eaten in small quantities and as a treat.
Brown Rice syrup – sugars inherent in rice – highly processed, super high GI, even though it’s brown rice! Again, brown rice syrup is a traditional natural sweetener that’s been used for ages. The sugars inherent in rice are no worse, as far as I can tell, than the sugars inherent in wheat, spelt, millet, or any other grain. And while some processing is, of course, required to convert rice to a sweetener, I have been able to find absolutely no corroboration that brown rice syrup is high GI. Most of the articles I’ve come across list its glycemic index as around 25-35–rather low.
Given my own approach to healthy eating, I am comfortable consuming snacks such as The Simply Bar on occasion. If the bars’ ingredients don’t jibe with what you think is healthy, please, don’t eat them. I’m grateful to the commenter for prompting me to examine my viewpoint on these ingredients and articulate my eating philosophy in general.
["Does this mean we get to listen to our bodies, too, Mum? Because my body is telling me that it's time you gave me a treat."]
Perhaps most importantly when it comes to our diets, however, is that I believe each of us must make our own informed choices about the food we put in our mouths. If my approach doesn’t resonate with you, that’s fine; there are many other approaches out there to pursue. With so many sources of illness in our world–toxins, pollution, carcinogens, molds, bacteria, germs, viruses, electromagnetic pollution–I could go on–I think it’s essential that we don’t allow ourselves to become bogged down in the negative impact of them all. It’s still possible to eat well and enjoy your food while keeping an eye open to the possible drawbacks.
Whew! And if you made it this far in the post, well, I think you deserve a reward. Go get yourself a huge piece of chocolate, or maybe a (thin) slice of cake–made with real, organic ingredients, of course.
I’d love to hear what you think about the issue–what constitutes a “healthy” diet in your mind?
[This week's A Gluten Free Holiday (the fourth installment of this event that Amy created) is hosted by Diane at The Whole Gang. You'll probably remember Diane's "30 days to a food revolution"--she even got Jamie Oliver involved! Diane's theme is sides and main courses today, so hop over to her blog if you'd like to see what she made (warning to vegans: meat-heavy recipe!), to enter the contest to win one of several cookbooks (see below) or to post your own recipe, click here.
Diane is giving away TWO books by Shauna James Ahern, everybody's favorite Gluten Free Girl! You could win Shauna's first book:
or the just-released, co-authored book by Shauna and her husband Danny:
Diane is also giving away TEN of my books--a hard copy of Sweet Freedom:
My contribution this week, surprisingly, involves rutabaga. (It's only a surprise, really, if you know my history with this gnarly root--but we've now gotten past our differences, the 'Baga and I).
It all started in the Garden of Eden. Well, okay, not literally, but it began with the promise of a portrait. And before that, it had its roots in the early days of my romance with the HH. And before that, it occurred with basically every man who ever went on a date with any woman, back through the centuries. . . as far back, even, as Adam and Eve.
It all started with a guy who promised, "I'll call you."
Yes, men have gotten in hot water over this one for all eternity. You know how it goes: you're at the end of a first date and he walks you to the door to say goodnight. You're standing beneath the beam of a streetlight as it illuminates the hopeful glint in your eyes. You gaze askance. "I had a great time," you whisper (a little breathlessly), tilting your chin up toward his face.
"Me, too," he replies, and brushes a kiss across your cheek. "Yeah, let's do it again. I'll call you."
I mean, can't you just imagine it? Garden of Eden. Eve says to Adam, "Hey, how do you like them apples?" Adam replies, "Wow, those were great. Let's do this again. I'll call you." And she never hears from him again.
Just as Freud wrestled with the question of What Women Really Want, every woman alive has attempted to solve the mystery of "Why do men say they'll call and then never call?" In fact, an entire movie was even devoted to the conundrum.
I've asked the HH about this (far too many times, according to him). Why do men (or anyone, for that matter) promise to do things they subsequently don't deliver? The HH's theory is that "we mean it at the time we say it." It's just that somehow, between the kiss at the door and buckling the seatbelt, that good intention dissolves as the guys realize that nope, they're just not that into you.
Apart from not calling me after our first date (or our second, or third, or pretty much ever since then), the HH and I have an ongoing joke about another of his unkept promises (no, nothing to do with "The M Word"--I have no desire to repeat youthful mistakes, either).
For years now, the HH has promised to paint a portrait of me. You see, even though he never pursued it as a career, the HH (who studied Fine Arts in university) happens to be one of the most talented artists I've ever seen. (In the early days of our relationship, I was constantly blown away by his artistic abilities. Sitting around the dinner table at my friend Gemini I's cottage one evening, the HH grabbed a pencil on the table, pulled over a napkin and--within the space of 45 seconds--drew a likeness of the niveous scene outside the window: the moonlit cottage across the frozen lake, the towering pines, the drifting snow. Gemini I asked if she could keep it, and it now hangs in their family room.)
Although he doesn't paint any more, I pleadedcajoledbegged asked the HH if he'd do a portrait of me (and make me look 10 pounds lighter in it, of course). When he hemmed and hawed, I questioned what it would take to convince him. His answer? "Make some authentic Scalloped Potatoes for me." (And he meant, to eat!). Well, what can I say--the guy likes potatoes.
Needless to say, he had his potatoes that week. And that week was. . . oh, perhaps 312 weeks or so ago. Do I have my portrait? Of course not. (But he really meant it at the time that he said it. . . ). .
Those potatoes came to mind as I was browsing through last month's issue of Whole Livingmagazine the other day. Like Martha Stewart's other publications (Living and Everyday Food), Whole Living quite often features vegan or vegan-friendly recipes. And right there, in an article about "Dishing Up Nostalgia" with health-conscious chefs, was a recipe for Rutabaga Gratin. Which looked exactly like scalloped potatoes. This might be my chance to nab that portrait after all, I mused.
Although I've never been a lover of rutabaga (unless it's the almond butter-crusted variety, that is), I knew the moment I saw the photo that I'd love this dish. In fact, this is the perfect dress-up ensemble for the otherwise homely rutabaga. Softened and sweetened by its slow roast in the oven, the rutabaga is transformed from dowdy tuber to ravishing root. With its rich, silky robe of cashew cream and nubby breadcrumb collar, little 'Baga gets all dressed up for its big date in this recipe.
I fed this to the HH and he was, like me, enraptured. "This stuff is great!" he enthused, scooping up almost half the casserole onto his plate. "It might even be better than scalloped potatoes," he went on. "You've definitely got to make this again."
"Sure thing," I said. "Maybe next week." Turns out, that was two weeks ago. But I did mean it when I said it. . . .
Rutabaga Gratin (adapted from Whole Living, November 2010)
This is the one rutabaga dish you’ll love even if you don’t like rutabaga. I made some adjustments to the original recipe to accommodate the ACD since the original included nutritional yeast. And while the ingredient list seems long, this comes together really quickly since everything is blended, mixed together and then baked.
For the Cashew Cream:
1-3/4 cups (420 ml) boiling water
1/2 cup (120 ml) sesame tahini
1-1/2 Tbsp (22.5 ml) light miso
2 tsp (10 ml) freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 cup (150 g) raw cashews
For the Breadcrumbs:
2 slices rustic gluten-free bread (I used quinoa bread)
1 Tbsp (15 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
For the Gratin:
2 small or one large rutabaga, peeled and cut into 1/8 inch (2 mm) thick rounds
fine sea salt and freshly ground pepper
2 Tbsp plus 2 tsp (40 ml) herbs de provence [or use the original recipe's seasonings: 4 tsp (20 ml) chopped fresh thyme and 4 tsp (20 ml) chopped fresh marjoram]
1/4 tsp (1 ml) ground nutmeg
2 Tbsp (30 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
Make the cashew cream:
Place cashews in a medium bowl and cover with boiling water; allow to sit for 15-30 minutes, until they begin to soften. Pour the cashews (and water) into a blender with the remaining cream ingredients and blend until perfectly smooth and creamy. Set aside.
Make the breadcrumbs: Tear bread into pieces and place in the bowl of a food processor. Pulse until you have fine crumbs, then toss the crumbs with the oil. Set aside.
Assemble the gratin: Preheat oven to 375F (190C). Grease a nine inch (22 cm) casserole dish with nonstick spray or a bit of extra virgin olive oil.
Cover the bottom of the casserole dish with a layer of rutabaga slices, overlapping slightly to cover the entire surface (but keep slices in a single layer). Season with salt, pepper, and half the herbs. Add another layer of rutabaga on top of the first and season with salt, pepper and the rest of the herbs. Cover with about 1/3 of the cashew cream (enough to cover both layers). Continue in this manner until the baking dish is full, then pour in the remaining cashew cream. Sprinkle the nutmeg over the top layer.
Bake in preheated oven on a baking sheet (to catch any overflow that spills out) for 30 minutes, then remove and rotate the casserole before sprinkling the top with the breadcrumbs. Bake an additional 45-55 minutes, until the rutabaga is soft when pierced with a knife and the breadcrumbs are browned. Makes 6-8 servings.
Per serving: 149 calories; 1 g saturated fat; 5 g unsaturated fat; 0 mg cholesterol; 18 g carbs; 89 mg sodium; 5 g protein; 4 g fiber
I’m so excited to be able to share a yummy, healthy, gluten-free holiday with you all this year!
Anyone with food allergies or other dietary restrictions for health reasons (such as my lovely ACD, for instance) knows how important it is to serve holiday foods that are both safe and delicious. We want to help as many people as we can do just that this holiday season.
And just who is “we,” you ask?
Well, this year, I’ve been invited by the wonderfully gracious Amy (the friendly voice behind the popular blog Simply Sugar and Gluten Free) along with four of her other bloggy buddies to participate in this holiday event. The main impetus behind the event is to seek out the very best gluten free recipes for the holidays–ones that are both delicious and healthy!
And “we” includes all of you, too! Without all of you reading, commenting, and linking up for the event, it just wouldn’t be the same celebration! So we’re inviting all of you to participate, too.
How Will it Work?
On Thursdays in November and December, a different gluten-free blogger will host a link-up event where you can share your best gluten-free holiday dishes. The linky will be open until the following Wednesday at 10:00 pm CST.
Every week there will be give-aways, too. Amy, along with Shirley of Gluten Free Easily, has lined up some amazing giveaways–prizes that would make some great early Christmas presents (or perhaps a present for yourself)! I can’t wait to share all of these with you.
That’s me! I’m going to kick off the event by discussing how to navigate the holiday season on a healthier note. After 18 months on the ACD, I’ve learned a bit about approaching holiday (or any special-occasion) eating to avoid packing on pounds or veering too far from a set eating plan. For this event, you can contribute your own healthier dish, or perhaps tips for staying slim when there’s tempting food all around–anything to do with staying healthier through the holiday season.
Share your favorite gluten-free Thanksgiving dish from appetizers to desserts at Shirley’s place. We want to see your stuffing, turkey dishes, pumpkin pie, mashed potatoes, cranberry jelly…anything Thanksgiving goes. (And to Canadian readers–we’ve got a head start on the US readership for this theme–so please do share your own Thanksgiving dishes for this week, too!)
Who doesn’t love a gift made with love? Share your favorite foodie gift that’s gluten-free. Have a fabulous way to pack a yummy treat? We want to see that, too.
Bring your family’s favorite entrées and sides. Diane will be ready for them all. And while Hannukah starts on December 2nd this year, we hope you’ll still submit some of your favorite dishes as well.
December 9th – Holiday Breakfast & Brunch at Ginger Lemon Girl
A warm, cozy breakfast or brunch is a wonderful way to start off the holiday. This is a great time to help someone else whipping up your fabulous gluten-free cinnamon rolls or a crumb-topped coffee cake by sharing your favorite recipes.
December 16th – Holiday Desserts at Simply Sugar & Gluten-Free
Just like it sounds – bring your favorite gluten-free Christmas desserts for all to share. Cookies, pies, truffles, cakes, and candies….we want to try them all.
So, get your recipe box out and start browsing…then get in the kitchen and start cooking for the best ever gluten-free holiday!
If you’d like to share the event on your own blog. . .
To share the event on your blog, simply right click on our event badge above, save it to your desktop, and upload it to your blog.
Feel free to share the event with your own readers, Facebook buddies, twitter followers and other friends!
Looking forward to “seeing” you there!
“Mum, we’re not too concerned about not packing on the pounds at the holidays. . . but we would definitely be interested in those gifts that taste good!”
“Zip it, Chaser–she said, ‘gifts of good taste,’ not ‘gifts that taste good.’ But don’t worry, we’ll be getting our own gifts this holiday season. . . just keep giving Mum that sad puppy stare and we’re all set.”
I rarely post non-recipe entries these days, but with the holiday carousel already well underway (the HH and I will be attending our first party of the festive season this weekend), I wanted to share some thoughts about the holidays, anti-candida style.
My friend The Architect and his wife have thrown an annual Christmas bash for the past decade or so, and the HH and I have been lucky enough to attend each year. (Like a Same Time, Next Yearremake–without the sex, that is–we meet up repeatedly with the selfsame dozen or so guests and always look forward to catching up on the previous 12 months). This time, though, I’ll be dealing with the scourge on my skin, the infestation of my intestines, that plague on my psyche: the Cursed Candida!
It can be incredibly difficult for anyone on a special diet (and by “special diet,” I mean anything that’s not the Standard American Diet–ie, anyone reading this blog) to navigate the holidays. Like it or not, you become keenly aware of the restrictions imposed on you, and the shaky line between friendship and maintaining your health; between wondering, “What would make a good hostess gift?” and, “will there be anything I can eat?”. Sometimes, you might even wonder if it’s worth attending the event at all, when you are (mostly) relegated to outside observer while everyone else indulges in supersized portions of flaky hors d’oeuvres, cheesy bites, holiday meats, chocolate truffles with Grand Marnier ganache, or big, sloppy slices of trifle and bread puddings. Waaaa!
So how do you enduresurvive traverse the barrage of sugar-laden, cream-laden, chocolate-laden, booze-laden, lard-laden buffets, holiday tables, restaurant menus and dinner parties that will be crossing your path until, oh, mid-February?
[Stevia-Sweetened, ACD-Friendly Chocolate Pots de Crème]
Well, folks, I won’t stevia-coat it; this diet can be a huge challenge, and at times is very, very tough. And make no mistake: even as I enter month Number Ten on this regime, I still find it a constant battle to ensure I don’t fall off the wagon and plummet headlong into the vortex of overeating, bingeing and regretting my transgressions (the gastronomic kind–not to be confused with those other, more famous, transgressions). As a sweets addict, I can relapse with the least provocation; thankfully, I made only a half-batch (10) of those ACD-friendly Matcha Chocolate Truffles, as I consumed them all within two days. (Hmm. Good thing I’m not back on sugar, isn’t it?)
This year, I’ll be following a fairly rigid version of the ACD, even through the holidays. What that means is no alcohol, vinegar, moldy foods (ie, mushrooms, citrus except for lemon/lime, melons, peanuts), sweet fruits (goodbye, dear mango! Sayonara, persimmon! Auf wiedersein, medjool dates!), and no conventional chocolate (ie, with sugar). I’ve only recently begun to incorporate unsweetened chocolate and some non-sweet fruits (apples, berries, pears) into the mix.
As a result, I thought it might be useful to outline some of the strategies I’ve used in the past and plan to use this season to keep the holidays a happy time, even on an anti-candida regime. For those of you new to the diet, I hope this offers some help!
[ACD-Friendly, Stevia Sweetened Mini Spice Cupcakes with Choco-Carob Frosting]
Invitations to Parties and Others’ Homes:
Over the years, I’ve finally set aside any initial fear of offending my host(ess), and always bring at least one dish I can eat (raw kale salad is usually a huge hit with everyone, and it can be whipped up in minutes before you leave). I bring enough for everyone, so that it doesn’t appear I’m simply feeding myself. Yes, this creates a bit of an inconvenience and extra expense, but it’s worth it to be able to eat something. Most parties will serve veggies and dip, so you can munch on the veggies, at least.
I also always eat something before I go, even if it’s just some (wheat-free) crackers and almond butter. That way, if my own salad is truly the only ACD-friendly food in the place, I won’t starve.
It can be difficult to stand around chatting with people as they imbibe champagne, wine, or whatever and eat all manner of yummy, rich and savory foods–but try to keep your mind on the real reason behind the party: to socialize, to meet people, to get together with friends and family. They really are better than a piece of pumpkin pie, aren’t they?
Holiday Meals
If you’re cooking up your own holiday meal at home, the best thing to do is find an ACD-friendly recipe that the rest of your family can enjoy, too. I’ve found that most vegetabledishes, salads, appetizers, and even main courses are perfectly acceptable to just about anyone as long as they’re tasty.
Desserts are a little more complicated, as stevia is not for everyone. If you can, cook up a dessert that can be divided in two, with one half for you (stevia-sweetened) and the other sweetened with “regular” sweeteners. I’ve accomplished such schizophrenic sweets in my recent Matcha Truffle recipe, the Faux Chocolate, Carob-Coconut Sweeties, and even Baked Blueberry Oatmeal Pudding. All of the desserts on this page can be made that way, too.
Get creative with the ingredients you are permitted to eat, or find yourself some good recipes to use. I’ve been working on these holiday-worthy ACD-friendly desserts (pictured) that I’m compiling for a Holiday E-Book, too. It should be ready in the next week or so, so I hope I can provide some great options for holiday menus to many of you!
Despite what the experts have promised, my sugar cravings didn’t go away in a week, or two weeks after being on the diet, or–well, ever. Sorry to admit this, but even after 10 months with NO CHEATING on the diet, even after losing 43 of the 45 pounds to my goal weight (whoo-hoooo!), I still have them, and have them almost daily. For those of us with sugar addictions–much like any addiction–they may never go away.
And when I’m hit with a massive craving for chocolate, or cake with frosting (okay, sometimes even minus the cake), or chocolate chip cookie dough, I still go prowling through the kitchen, opening and closing the refrigerator repeatedly in the hopes that I might suddenly, miraculously spy something sweet that I am “allowed” to eat. (Sadly, no, healthy Twinkies do not magically appear). Then what?
Well, friends, in those times when I’m desperate for something sweet, I must admit that I succumb to the urge. No, no–I don’t mean that I eat something sugary! But I do eat as much as I like of any ACD-friendly sweets. This may mean consuming six squares of my faux chocolate in quick succession, or an entire recipe of Carob-Coconut Sweeties, or even some avocado-carob pudding (use stevia instead of dates). True, I may be eating more than I should in one sitting, but if it prevents me from hooking up with my old sweetheart, Sugar, then I’m okay with it. The moment usually passes by the time I reach the fourth square of “chocolate,” and I return to my regularly scheduled menus, crisis averted.
Feeling Blue without Favorite Foods
Despite your best efforts, despite being motivated, and despite really, really wanting to get healthy, there will still be times when these food restrictions and the havoc they play with your “normal” life will feel like a huge burden, and you may wonder why you are sticking with the diet when results are often slow to manifest. At times like those, I try to resuscitate my drive by getting in touch with positive energy, either from people that are close to me, or other reliable sources of optimism. Call a friend, your sister, your cousin, your sponsor–whoever will be able to support you in a moment of weakness. Barring that, here are some resources I’ve relied upon to keep the momentum going:
Websites:
Whole Approach. This is the website that I turn to when I need a reminder about the anti candida diet (I’m following their plan), or when I want to read what others in a similar situation may be experiencing and solicit feedback from them (the forums on the site are great).
Yeast and Your Health site. This is a personal site maintained by Lisa Geary, B.Ed, MA. Lisa has experienced systemic candida herself and has compiled an amazing array of information about what it is, how to deal with it, and how to overcome candida.
Jeffrey McCombs’ website. While I don’t follow this exact plan, the site was recommended to me by a reader whose candida was cleared up by following McCombs’ candida protocol. Much of what he writes also jibes with the treatment I’m receiving from my naturopath here as well (such as saunas to detoxify).
Reading:
Complete Candida Yeast Guidebook by Jeanne Marie Martin and Zoltan Rona. The Mother of All Candida Guidebooks! This is the tome I used the first time I followed the candida diet, and I refer to it frequently. It also includes some good recipes, such as the Veggie Burgers I posted.
The Candida Cure by Ann Boroch. A recent (2009) addition to the literature on candida, this is a pared-down version of Martin and Rona’s book, with very similar advice. Good as an introduction for those just starting the diet.
The Healthy Cookieby Meghan Telpner. While not a candida-based memoir, this ebook is Meghan’s own story of how she overcame a diagnosis of Crohn’s disease through diet and lifestyle, refusing to accept that she would have to be ill for the rest of her life. Her attitude and approach are entirely upbeat and entertaining, as well as truly inspiring. For anyone dealing with health issues and how to cope, this book offers great encouragement.
The Glass Castleby Jeannette Walls. Another memoir not strictly related to candida. But even living through the most dire of childhoods, Walls manages to incorporate daily doses of fun, love, and humor. With riveting story-telling skills that never dwell on self-pity, Walls moves ahead with zest and joie de vivre, getting on with it when necessary and offering readers hope and inspiration. And isn’t that what living with candida should be, too?
This holiday season, I plan to focus as much as possible on the intentions behind the gatherings rather than the foods on serving dishes. Being “fully nourished” means feeding not only our bellies, but also our emotions, our psychological needs, our friendships and our relationships with loved ones. As Meghan says in her book,
“Feeling well involves being in good humour, genuinely cheerful, optimistic and positive. Health is the ability to make decisions and take responsibility for our own actions. When our health is good we carry less fear inside and therefore can lead our lives more honestly and with more integrity. We can see the good in our lives and know that the bad will pass. We feel gratitude for what we are blessed with. Perhaps most importantly, when we feel well, we can feel, live and spread love. Wellness breeds happiness and true happiness can ensure sustained wellness.”
Remember that you can recover from candida, and it doesn’t have to rule your life. Here’s to a happy, healthy and naturally sweet holiday season!
What are your strategies for getting through the holidays when you don’t eat the same foods as everyone else? Please share in the comments!
Why, oh why did I choose Sundays? What was I thinking? I must have been on a chocolate high at the time and totally out of it. Otherwise, why on EARTH would any sane person choose Sunday morning to track her weight loss (which, at this point, is actually a misnomer; for, as of this morning, I am now tracking my weight gain. Oh, woe).
Well, I suppose I can take some small comfort in the fact that we spent all of last evening at a spectacular birthday bash for my friend Gemini I’s husband. And, given that my mouth was basically open for business between 6:00 PM and midnight last night, I’m assuming some of this is temporary (I’m hoping. . . .). Enough self-recriminations–must move onward! And man, that gal sure knows how to throw a party.
For your entertainment pleasure, I thought I’d try to remember as many as I can of the continual flow of appetizers and h’ors doeuvres that floated by all evening, aloft many a wait-staff’s capable hands. In addition to a huge buffet table heaving with platters of cheese, crackers, olives, breads and spreads and cut fruits, there was also an endless array of hot and cold appetizers, including stuffed button mushrooms, garlic-stuffed olives, one-bite caramelized onion quiches, mini crab cakes with wasabi dollops, bocconcini-stuffed sundried tomatoes, mini shrimp dumplings, mini hamburgers (yes, with mini buns–looked like plastic toys, actually!), mini cold rice paper spring rolls, chicken satay skewers, mini grilled cheese sandwiches, and a probably six or seven other choices I’ve forgotten.
The dessert trays were deadly, heaped with one-bite brownies in three or four flavors, double-chocolate chip cookies and plain ole vanilla ones, three kinds of biscotti, miniature individualized banana splits served in shot glasses, all topped off by the birthday cake, an enormous rectangle of vanilla sponge decked out with cream and fresh strawberries, all tied up with white chocolate ribbons and bows.
One side of the room served as a bar station, where servers were generously dispensing custom pomegranate-blueberry martinis (I have no idea what else was in it, but it was delicious) and any type of wine or liquor you choose. I was thrilled to see my favorite Australian shiraz in the group. . . all I can say is, good thing I wasn’t the designated driver last evening (thanks, HH!).
As it turns out, Gemini II’s daughter is actuallly a vegetarian in a highly carnivorous family, so there were lots of veggie options there–though I’m not sure whether that was actually good for me or not. I threw WOCA to the winds and ate more than my fair share (and am paying the price for all that wheat I consumed).
Which leads me to. . . .salad. After that kind of indulgence, today I’m craving something basic. A simple, cleansing salad seems in order.
Now, I must admit that I’ve never really been a salad person. Is it because I don’t like salads? No, that wouldn’t be the reason; I thoroughly enjoy my mixed baby greens, for instance, whenever the HH and I have dinner at one of our local haunts. After reading about the need to properly toss a salad on The Good Eatah’s blog recently, I thought my tossing skills might not be up to snuff. Or maybe the idea of cold, raw veggies smack dab in the middle of a cold, raw winter is just too painful to bear? But that’s not it, either; I do still enjoy munching on my cold, raw apples and grapefruit.
Part of my aversion to salads may be rooted in the meals of my childhood, when “salad” meant iceberg lettuce, woody tomatoes, and wobbly cucumber slices, unceremoniously slathered with mayonnaise. Still, I was confident that years of therapy had finally eradicated that association. No, I’ve decided that the reason for my anti-salad stance is actually twofold: first, being basically lazy, I’ve always found it just so much work to wash, peel, and cut up all the veggies. And second, my frugal (okay, downright cheap) nature has too often prevented me from taking advantage of time-saving salads-in-a-bag, as I’m unwilling to fork over my hard-earned discretionary spending money on those overinflated prices. You see my dilemma.
Still, once in a while I encounter a salad that does seem worth the extra effort, and today’s recipe came to mind. Just like a fulfilling relationship, a bowl of delectable salad greens may take some work, but the result is eminently satisfying (hear that, HH?). Such is the case with several of our staple salads here in the DDD household, such as the Asian-Inspired Napa Cabbage Salad, the always-popular “Broccoli Delight” from my friend Caroline’s cookbook, or the super-easy and absolutely irresistible Raw Kale salad (“Ohh, Mum, that kale salad is our favorite! Pick that one!”). All these are delicious (and I’ll post recipes in future), but this time, I favored dandelion.
This simple, appealing salad accompanied our highly successful Savory Stuffed Crepes, which the HH and I enjoyed for brunch the other day. Originally, this recipe called for the duo of pears and dandelion, but once, when I ran out of pears I subbed apples, and have now come to prefer the latter combination.
I first tasted dandelion greens during my year studying nutrition, but had been daydreaming about them since my early twenties, when I read the novel The Bone Peopleby New Zealand author Keri Hulme. In the book, the protagonist (an eccentric hermit whose lifestyle I sorely envied at the time) produced her own dandelion wine. Well, if I can’t have the wine, I suppose the leaves will have to do. . . .but I would still love to sample that fermented version one day.
The salad marries a subtle, slightly sweet and creamy dressing with the bitter gusto of the dandelion. Being high in calcium and other minerals, dandelions are a natural health food. They’re also a great liver tonic, stimulating that all-important organ to filter the “bad” cholesterol out of the body. And after all that booze last night. . . .well, come to think of it, I could have used a fresh juice with some dandelion leaves in it, too!
The recipe produces an abundance of fresh dressing that pools gently at the bottom of the bowl, perfect for sopping up with scraps of bread or for treating The Girls to a dressing-topped dinner. (“Um, Mum, did we hear that correctly?”) Overall, the salad is crisp, light, and very refreshing. (“Didn’t you just say, ‘dinner,’ Mum?”) And it offers a fabulous array of minerals and vitamins. (“We were sure we heard ‘dinner.’ Isn’t that right,Mum?”) And, as dandelion is both a high-antioxidant food and a leafy green, I’m submitting this recipe as my contribution to Sweetnicks’ weekly ARF/5-A-Day roundup (check it out on Tuesday evenings). It would make the perfect accompaniment to a healthy dinner. (“Knew it! Is it time yet? So, when do we get some?“)
Bittersweet Salad with Apples and Dandelion Greens
The recipe was created by the exceedingly talented Jennifer Italiano, owner of Toronto’s first all-raw restaurant and one of my personal favorites, Live Organic Food Bar (they’ve now expanded the menu options to include macrobiotic and some other cooked items).
1/4 cup tahini (may be raw)
1 cup freshly squeezed orange juice (I’ve used reconstituted, and it’s not as good)
2 Tbsp. dulce (or other dried seaweed) flakes
1 Tbsp. freshly grated ginger root
1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp. curry powder
pinch salt
1 large bunch dandelion greens, large stems removed, chopped
2 pears or apples (I used fuji), cored and thinly sliced
1/4-1/2 red onion, thinly sliced
In a blender or in a bowl and using an immersion blender, mix all ingredients thoroughly (until the seaweed is well pulverized).
In a large salad bowl, combine the dandelion, pear, and onion. Pour the dressing over all and toss gently.
Allow to sit for at least 10 minutes (up to 2 hours), to marinate. Makes 4 servings (two in our house).
As our man Marcel so eloquently illustrated, it’s pretty much natural for most of us to be flooded with sensory memories when we inhale the aroma of some beloved or long-forgotten food–images come flooding back as quickly as a montage in a rap video.
The scent of hot chocolate? Of course: that was studying for high school metriculations, 1978. The wafting aroma of eggplant parmesan? That dinner party with my wacky room mate (ah, yes, the one my friend Ed said had a revolving door in her bedroom) in 1981. The tingly, acidic rush of champagne bubbles on the nose? The first New Year’s Eve with my HH, way back when. Oh, and the next one. And also our anniversary. Oh yeah, also my birthday. And the following New Year’s. And this past one. . . .
Yes, food certainly elicits memories for most of us. What’s weird about me, I’ve since discovered (among all the other things) is that the opposite is also true: memories elicit food. What I mean is, I tend to recall past events according to the food that was present at the time.
Just the other day, my HH and I were discussing how sweet my friend Gemini I is, to always invite us to her cottage for major holidays like New Year’s Eve or Thanksgiving. “Yeh, too bad we didn’t make it this past year,” my HH remarked. I thought for a moment, then realized we had, indeed, been there.
“Sure, we were there, don’t you remember,” I said. “It was the first time my gravy came out perfectly, no lumps. And Gemini II made that amazing Caesar salad in her huge salad bowl on the stand.” (Okay, it’s true, I didn’t call her “Gemini II,” but I did say the rest of it.) My HH had no recollection whatsoever of this. When my HH remembers places or events, he remembers them as normal people do: according to what happened, or where the place is, or who else was there.
Now, that’s not to say that I don’t recall those types of details as well. It’s just that, for me, it seems major events are distinguished by the kind of food that was present.
During our first rocky summer together, my HH and I split up twice. I will forever remember the second split, since we were at a favorite restaurant and ordered, respectively, linguine with seafood, and veggie pizza (before the days I couldn’t eat wheat). As I sat, tears streaming down my face, my HH shoveled food mechanically into his mouth as a way to stave off the rising emotion at our impending separation. Back in those days, untrained in how to emote (or even have a discussion with someone who was emoting), my HH seemed unable to utter the simple words, “But I don’t want to break up.” As a result, I sat there, immobile, crying, but not touching my food.
After a few minutes, the very solicitous restaurateur approached to inquire whether the food was not to my satisfaction (No, no it’s great, sniffle, I’m just not hungry, whimper whimper, thanks anyway, boo hoo sob sob), and then proceeded to return to the table every five minutes thereafter, sweetly attempting to encourage me to eat–anything–by placing one after the other free dishes on the table before me (I declined on the antipasto, garlic bread, and cheesecake, but did accept the wine–hey, even heartbroken, I’m no fool).
When I think of that breakup, I always think of the food involved. (In the end, that’s sort of what brought us back together again: I wrote about the incident in the newspaper, and after reading it, HH contacted me to give it one more try. In the end, what I assumed was no more than a several-night stand has endured more than a decade.)
Almost every major event I’ve experienced is somehow associated with an attendant meal, or at the least, a dish. My ultimate date with my first love, way back during the Me Generation and Excessive Everything, was a phenomenal meal at a Detroit restaurant called The Benchmark (no longer in existence, alas). A very posh place, far beyond the budget of a sweet, romantic History major trying to impress his girlfriend, they sure did know how to treat a couple. Led to wait for our table at the upstairs bar, we became so engrossed in our conversation (I know, youthful amour can do that to you) that we completely lost track of time and, before we realized it, more than an hour had passed. When we inquired whether our table was ready, the horrified maitre d’ apologized profusely and offered us a free bottle of champagne as compensation for the time lost. (That brand remains my favorite).
Later, I remember vividly the most delicious, velvety, slightly pungent and salty Cream of Olive Soup I’ve ever tasted. Was it the company that made the soup so spectacular? Or the fact that, as a starry-eyed twenty-something with very little experience in restaurant protocol, I was bowled over by the incredible opulence and extravagant service of the place? Who knows. But whenever I think of ol’ Spaghetti Ears, that dinner isn’t far behind.
And what can I say, my family is weird. (Actually, that has nothing to do with food-related memories, just a random factual statement). My sisters and I define memories based on food. Which birthday was it? Oh, yes, that’s right, the one with the Bo-Peep birthday cake. Or remember when The Nurse’s boyfriend managed to quit smoking for a year and we baked him that “Happy Healthy” cake? For years afterward, all my friends wanted a Happy Healthy when they, too, quit smoking (because in those days, everybody still smoked).
And speaking of healthy, what about the evening–the first after I’d started on my naturopath-decreed cleansing diet–that I shared a dinner with my friend Mark? We’d actually found a restaurant willing to honor my new restrictions and serve me plain, steamed, organic vegetables and steamed basmati rice–no seasonings, no flare whatsoever. Mid-meal, I sensed some lightheadedness and attendant dizziness. Within minutes, the room spun and I wasn’t sure I’d make it home. It was mid-February, snowy, and visibility was almost nil as I inched my way along the roads, gripping the steering wheel for dear life, moving no faster than 20 km per hour (that’s less than 12.4 mph, my American amigos), desperate to avoid an accident before getting back to my house. I was so weak by the time I arrived home that my HH actually had to take my shoes off for me, before I collapsed in a heap on the bed and fell into a fitful slumber for 18 hours. My first (and only negative) detox experience.
I’m not sure why I evolved this way; maybe it was the constant parade of homemade foods in our house, the kitchen as the fulcrum of our family life, the genes I inherited from my mother’s side of the family.
Whatever; I’m hoping I can establish a novel trend in 2008 and begin to associate milestones with healthy food, or–shockers!–nothing to do with food at all. How about baked sweet potatoes (one of my favorites) linked with our 11th anniversary? Or a great trail-walk with The Girls encapsulated by raw Fig & Cherry Bars (recipe in a future post)? Even better, I’d love to relate significant events to other activities entirely (and no, they don’t have to be “that” kind, you naughty ones!). Wouldn’t it be great to have strong associations with other things besides food?
Food is great, I love food, and it’s always been at the forefront of most aspects of my life, but I’ve come to learn that’s not the healthiest way to be for me. Food will always remain a central part of most social events, but maybe in the future, it can be tempered with other important markers as well. The next time I face a major challenge or triumph, I’d like to be able to connect it with something else, by making a conscious effort to focus on the people, or the place, or the things that contribute to that memory.
Still, I’ll always have a soft spot for champagne and olive soup.
I’m still quite new to blogging, and I certainly proved it last evening. At my house was a group of six amazing women–three whom I met at my nutrition school, one from a long-ago volunteer gig, and the last as a participant in one of my (now defunct) cooking classes–and each brought at least one fantastic, high-saliva inciting food to the table. And I? Yes, I, too contributed to the culinary canvas. In fact, I added not two, not three, but four delectable dishes to the cornucopia. But did I remember to take a photo of said table, overflowing with the bounty of our kitchens? Uh, no. I was so engrossed in the captivating conversation, so distracted by the eye-catching textures and colours, interesting ingredient combinations and seductively wafting aromas that I, like everyone else, simply dug in and enjoyed.
By the time I remembered this blog and the fact that I was supposed to chronicle the evening in photos (and post it to Holidailies), it was too late. By then, only a few solitary dregs of each food lay wilted and soggy in the bottoms of platters, bowls, and casserole dishes, far too sparse and too exhausted to submit to a photo op. And for that, I hang my blogging head in shame.
As an attempt to make amends for my lack of forethought when it came to the buffet table, I will here recreate the menu for you, and even supply recipes! I did, thankfully, take a couple of photos of my own contributions before the crowd arrived, so you can have a glimpse of those.
First, the menu. What a great bunch of gals–this is the Vegan assortment they (and I) co-created:
Appetizers:
* Garlicky Black Bean Dip
* Chickpea-mint Spread
* Mushroom and Walnut Pate (from Veganomicon), photo left
* Assortment of wheat-free crackers
* Homemade Veggie Spring Rolls with Asian Cranberry Dipping sauce (to die for–will definitely see if I can cadge the recipe)
Salads/Sides:
Caesar Salad (from Veganomicon,with a twist–see below)
Edamame-Cabbage and Sesame Slaw
Stir-fried Mixed Veggies
Mains:
Smoked Tofu and Veggie-Lentil Stir-Fry with Zucchini “Pasta”
* Chocolate-Cashew Bark (homemade and easy–see below)
Doesn’t everything sound amazing? And with people just coming off all that holiday excess, this healthy yet delicious meal seemed almost ascetic. Well, except the tiramisu, of course.
After the initial squeals of joy at seeing each other again, and the introductions (the nutrition crowd wasn’t yet familiar with the other two), we settled in to some wine or mineral water and the appetizers. Since I’d promised at least one main and one dessert, I hadn’t planned to contribute to this particular course. But I had a surfeit of mushrooms after preparing the stew, so decided to browse my new copy of Veganomiconand came up with the Walnut Mushroom Pate. I followed the recipe verbatim and was thrilled with the result–smooth, savory, and very rich tasting. I seem to recall a similar reicpe from my childhood, when my mother experimented with ”Mock Chopped Liver” (see, I told you she was an unwitting vegetarian).
The other dip and spread, a chunky, minty chickpea mash and a smooth, slightly sweet black bean spread, were both delicious, but I think all the other appetizers were trumped by the absolutely mouth watering veggie spring rolls with Asian cranberry dipping sauce. A succulent mix of veggies in a filo crust, baked to flaky perfection, then dipped in a slightly spicy, tart sauce brimming with cranberries–it was divine.
By the time we’d cleared the buffet table of appetizers and moved to the main course, we were all anticipating the treasures this group had brought to the table. We began with a zingy vegan Caesar, also from Veganomicon (getting a lot of press in this post!). I made just one adjustment to the already more or less perfect dressing recipe, mostly to accommodate my own peccadilloes and because I felt it would taste more authentically Italian this way: I substituted roasted pine nuts for the almonds in the recipe. Like the almonds, the pine nuts offered a slight graininess to the otherwise perfectly creamy dressing, approximating the texture of grated parmesan. I loved, loved, loved the garlicky creaminess of the dressing, though I must admit it was a bit too pungent for most of the crowd, and that was with only 3 of the 4 recommended cloves!
Guests also provided some sensational stir-fried veggies and Smoked Tofu mixture with veggies, lentils, and zucchini “pasta.” The raw “pasta” is actually zucchini that’s been cut into long thin spaghetti-like threads using a Spiral Slicer. You can approximate this idea by repeatedly grating the zucchini along its length with a carrot peeler (as if you were peeling the zucchini–but keep going even once the peel is gone).
My own addition to the menu was the savory Tempeh Stew, a variation on Isa Chandra Moskowitz’s Tofu, Mushroom and Potato stew from her first cookbook, Vegan with a Vengeance. I won’t repeat the entire recipe here, but I will tell you the changes I made: first, instead of using exclusively cremini mushrooms (which looked a little drab and tired at my local grocer’s), I used half portobello mushrooms, for their meaty flavor and texture, and half regular button mushrooms. This is a quick pic of the mushies after they’d been sauteed.
The combination seemed to work pretty well, allowing for a substantial chewiness along with an earthy flavor. I also substituted tempeh for the tofu, as we were having quite a lot of tofu in other dishes and tempeh is my preference in any case. I steamed the tempeh first in a mixture of vegetable broth and a splash of Bragg’s aminos (like soy sauce) before adding it, chunked, to the pot.
The resulting mixture, right before it was covered for the final simmer, looked like this:
Simmering for an additional 30 or so minutes allowed the tempeh to absorb much of the flavor, and the potatoes to soften and soak up much of the sauce. The final product was a thickly sauced, rich tasting and lip-smacking stew that I served with some whole spelt biscuits I whipped up at the last minute–great for sloshing in the gravy.
[Later insert: This is what it looked like, reheated the following day for lunch--mmmnn!]:
We reveled in both the feast and the confabulation for about an hour before venturing to dessert–itself enough to fill the table with platters and bowls!
Absolute bedlam ensued at one point while Barb recounted a visit to an alternative energy worker, the methods of whom were new to most of us (Barb included). While treating us to her vocal imitation of the healing chant she’d heard (somewhat like the scene in When Harry Met Sally, now that I think of it), she became so animated that The Girls, who’d been sleeping peacefully in opposite corners of the living room, immediately leapt to their feet, hackles up and tails erect, snapping and growling as they dashed to the front door to see who was there. Much like the prophet Elijah at Passover, the poltergeist evaded their detection, and they circled the room, roused and disoriented, until we gave them each a treat to calm down, poor things. (“It was pretty startling, you know, Mum. She did sound rather distressed. And we just wanted to protect you all in case someone was trying to steal the food, that’s all.”)
My friend Michelle graciously brought two treats, a container of the Mocha Hazelnut cookies I previously posted on this site, as well as some delicious Mini Pumpkin Chocolate Chip loaves, another recipe of mine that I will post here anon.
I provided a variety of the Mostly Raw Chocolate Truffles from an earlier post as well as a dish I’d created for a customer’s Christmas party last year–Vegan Tiramisu. I got the idea from an old recipe in Dreena Burton’s Vive le Vegan, and adapted it with my own cake and filling. I’ll explain what I did differently from Dreena’s recipe, so you can recreate it yourself if you wish.
Dessert brought more sharing of stories and howls of laughter before everyone dispersed around 11:30 (on a school night!). It was the most fun I’ve had in ages. Thanks, ladies, for a great evening, filled with your talented culinary creations, thoroughly delightful conversation, and generous spirits.
Vegan Tiramisu
This is a dish I created for a customer last Christmas, and I’ve used it many times since. It may be vegan, but it is definitely not virtuous. A very rich, very luscious and velvety cream filling oozes between layers of light vanilla cake drizzled with spiked coffee. The entire affair is topped off with a light whipped “cream” and then sprinkled with chocolate curls. My HH practically swooned over this one (and let me tell you, the last time he swooned over anything I did probably dates back to the Paleozoic era, just to give you a yardstick on that).
Ingredients:
one baked and cooled 9 x9 inch single-layer vanilla cake (I used my own recipe for a spelt and agave-based cake, but I think the agave cupcake recipe from Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World would work well if baked in a square pan as well).
Filling (recipe follows)
Whipped “cream” (I use a double recipe of the soymilk-based whipped “cream” from How It All Vegan, with the following changes: I use 1 Tbsp. Sucanat instead of dry sweetener, and add 1 Tbsp. light agave nectar. The texture is very light and quite irresistible.)
Chocolate curls (made by melting dairy-free chocolate chips, spreading on a plate lined with plastic wrap, and allowing to cool; then use a carrot peeler to grate along the side and the chocolate will form little curls, as you see in the photo).
about 1/2 to 2/3 cup cold, very strong coffee or coffee substitute, mixed with an equal amount liqueur (either coffee liquer, creme de cacao, or, as we did last evening, hazelnut liqueur (Frangelico).
Filling: I altered Dreena’s original filling recipe in the following way. My version is really a combination of a cooked “pudding” blended with silken tofu.
2 packages extra-firm silken tofu (aseptically packaged, such as Mori-Nu)
1 Tbsp. pure vanilla extract
2/3 cup pure maple syrup
1 cup Sucanat
1/4 cup soymilk (either vanilla or plain)
1/8 tsp. sea salt
1/4 cup organic cornstarch
In the bowl of a food processor, whir together the tofu and vanilla until perfectly smooth, scraping down sides of bowl as necessary.
In a medium pot, combine the maple syrup, Sucanat, soymilk, salt and cornstarch, and whisk to blend. Heat over medium heat, stirring constantly, until mixture begins to boil softly. Continue to stir or whisk constantly, cooking for one minute.
Pour the hot mixture into the food processor along with the tofu and blend again until perfectly mixed and smooth. Pour into a large bowl and place in refrigerator until cool, at least two hours.
To Assemble the Tiramisu:
In a large decorative bowl, spoon some of the filling and swirl to coat the bottom of the bowl. Cut or tear the cake into thin strips or squares and lay down in a single layer over the filling. Drizzle with about 1/3 of the coffee/booze mixture. Cover with about 1/3 of the filling, and repeat with more cake, drizzle, filling, cake, drizzle and filling again, until all the filling, liquid, and cake are used up (you should have about 3 layers of each, and end with a layer of filling).
Top the last layer with a thin coating of the whipped “cream,” ensuring no filling peeks through. Sprinkle with chocolate curls. Refrigerate at least 6 hours to allow cake to absorb the liquid and for flavors to meld.
To serve, spoon into individual serving bowls, or– just to use them and because they look pretty–pull out that old set of martini glasses and use those for a decorative presentation. Makes at least 10 servings, more if your crowd is able to exercise restraint.
After a couple of weeks of planning and looking forward to a visit from my younger sister (we can call her the CFO), the trip was cancelled as of this morning because of the nasty storm on its way, and a forecast of 65 cm. (that’s about 26 inches) of snow they’re expecting in Montreal. Bummer.
It does, however, free up my weekend so that we can finally unpack the boxes still in the garage (forget about the 60 or so in the basement), hang curtains, post to Holidailies, set up chotchkes, organize my sock drawer, etc. (“And spend time romping in the snow with us, right, Mum? Right??”)
The aborted visit also got me to thinking about the nature of our social lives. Here is the itinerary we’d planned:
Friday eve: Sis arrives; go to our favorite Malaysian restaurant to decompress and chat over dinner.
Saturday AM: sleep in; brunch at home. Drive downtown and spend the morning browsing around Yorkville, stopping in at Whole Foods Market and the Grigorian, before heading to King Street to look at various furniture shops (even though I can’t afford any of it–but my sister, being gifted in interior design, was going to give me some hints on how to decorate this place on a budget).
Saturday eve: take my sister out to dinner to celebrate her birthday.
Sunday: back downtown for brunch; then to the train station to send her on her way.
Well, I’m sure you can see where I’m going with this. Food, food, eat, food, chew, food, swallow, eat, food, food, FOOD.
True, this list is more chow-centric than my typical weekend plans. Still, why does the addition of another person–ergo, a social group–immediately bring with it the suggestion of eating? As we all approach this most social, and most feast-laden, times of the year, it’s pretty darned difficult to find even one activity that doesn’t revolve around food. Rich, luscious, decadent, spiked, fatty, indulgent food.
I can see how it makes sense, but still. Since our first-ever social interaction also involves nourishment (feeding at our mother’s breast), we are born to associate food with comfort, feeling soothed, and affection. And isn’t that what we’d all like from our family and friends, especially at this time of year? (Well, except for the breast part, that is–at least, for most of us). So maybe the formula (no pun intended) of socializing + food = warm, fuzzy feelings of satisfaction and contentment is just civilization’s way of allowing people to feel good about spending time with other people, and ensuring that it continues to happen.
Otherwise, why else would we all continue to voluntarily submit to these annual holiday dinners? Ah, well, there’s definitely more to examine on this topic (food for thought? gaak!), but I shall leave it at that for now. . . and return to my mountain-turned-molehill of essays to mark.
(“Food always makes us happy, Mum, no matter who’s around. And, you know, we’re still warm and fuzzy, even without it.”)
