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Yesterday afternoon, I called the HH at work and proposed. (No, no, silly, not that kind of proposal! We are quite content with our “been there, done that, never going to be legally married again” status, thank you.) What I proposed was this: “HH, I just noticed that Joan Rivers is performing live tonight at the Living Arts Centre in Mississauga. Would you like to go?”
And lo and behold, the HH said, “YES.”
Now, why is that scenario so surprising? Well, for two reasons. First, the HH actually said, “yes.” But more remarkable was my own invitation in the first place–my impulsive decision to attend the show.
You see, I’m a Libra.
One of the defining traits of Libras (or so the HH, my astrological expert, informs me) is indecisiveness. As the only sign represented by an inanimate object (the scales), Libras’ minds are like teeter-totters alternating between two nearly-equal entities: first, all the weight falls to one side; then it shifts and all the weight moves to the other end. Meanwhile, the poor Libra keeps vacillating between the two: Should I wear the black shoes? They match my black turtleneck. Then again, the brown shoes pick up that brown stripe in my pants. And the brown shoes are more comfortable. But the black shoes look better. Of course, the brown shoes are more sturdy, and I’ll be walking on cobblestones. Still, the black shoes were less expensive, so it won’t matter if they get a little worn out. . . .
You see my point. (Well, maybe you don’t. But then again, maybe you do. But you might not.)
This propensity to shift between alternatives can also manifest itself as an “all or nothing” mentality–in other words, Libras choose either one extreme end of the seesaw or the other. For example, I might spend an entire day creating a single pepperoni pizza, counterbalanced by some über quick Mex-Ital tofu scramble the next. Or I’ll while away the better part of an afternoon playing with Vanilla vs. Vanilla (muffins vs. cupcakes), even whipping up my own sour cream for the experiment–then ditch the complexity for quick and foolproof LaRaw Bars (Cocoa Nibbles), effectively made with only 3 ingredients.
Unfortunately for me, this “all-or-nothing” habit extends to eating, as well. I’m one of those people who, when I indulge in sweets, feels compelled to consume the entire batch at once (which explains why I haven’t made my fudge in a while. Though I did try out Kim’s healthier black bean version instead. Nope, pretty much wanted to eat that entire batch, too.)
I’m not sure why, but the culinary balance seems to have shifted to “simple” once again. Could it be that I spent so much of the past few days attempting a “cheese”-filled, gluten free, ACD-friendly bread recipe that my kitchen is now permanently coated in a patina of amaranth flour? Or perhaps it’s that my holiday from the college has encouraged recent marathon sessions in front of the TV (am I the only one who’s disappointed with Ellen on Idol? Or is she actually as noncomittal and insipid as she seems to me? And will Jack and Carly get back together–again? And how about that Liz Lemon? And why am I so jazzed to watch the Oscars when I haven’t seen any of the movies?). Or maybe it’s that I finally started working on the puzzle the HH got me for Christmas and I’ve spent far too many hours hunched over the card table, scrutinizing scalloped pieces of cardboard for subtle shifts in hue from black to grey to tan. Too many “all” activities, perhaps?
Whatever the reason, lately I’ve opted for quick and easy. And I found this wonderful recipe in–of all places–Vegan Yum Yum, the cookbook based on the blog of the same name by Lauren Ulm. Now, if you’re familiar with Lauren’s blog, you know that many of her recipes appear quite elaborate, or even intimidating (Knit Night Cupcakes, anyone?). That’s why I was totally delighted to discover that there are more than a few straightforward, simple recipes in the book–and this artichoke salad is a stellar example.
While the original employs marinated artichokes (my assumption, as it’s not specified), I adapted the recipe for the ACD and added my own seasonings. Made with staples already in most pantries, this deceptively simple salad is anything but simple in flavor and texture. Browning the chickpeas adds a slightly nutty undertone, balanced nicely by the acidity of the lemon and artichokes (and I’m all about balance). As I scooped up the first forkful, I wondered if the recipe was perhaps too basic for a blog entry. But then I found myself returning to it again and again–even, in fact, after I’d already packed the leftovers in a container and placed them in the fridge. It was that good.
Lauren notes that the salad serves four, or “one as a meal,” which is how it turned out for me. Well, I suppose it only made sense: I had to eat it all–or nothing.
”Mum, dogs don’t have an ‘all or nothing’ mentality, you know. It’s more like, ‘all or everything.’”
With chickpeas in a co-starring role here, I’m submitting this to Lisa and Jacqueline’s No Croutons Required event for March. This month’s host is Lisa and the theme is soups or salads made with chickpeas. The event runs until March 20, so there’s still time to enter if you’d like to participate!
Blog Note: I finally completed updating the “Blogs I Read” page. I know there are also lots of blogs I may have missed, so if you have a blog that fits into one of the listed categories, please let me know. I’d love to check it out! 
Warm Chickpea and Artichoke Salad (ACD Phase I and beyond)
adapted from Vegan Yum Yum by Lauren Ulm
To render the salad ACD-friendly, I used canned artichoke hearts, which are not marinated. The flavors also develop as it sits, so the salad is even better the next day. If you’re not following an anti-candida regime, however, you might like to try this with the jarred, marinated hearts and eliminate the herbs and garlic for an easier and more intensely flavored salad.
5 Tbsp (75 ml) extra virgin olive oil, divided
juice of 1 lemon
2 tsp (10 ml) dried basil, or use 1-2 Tbsp (15-30 ml) fresh, finely chopped
1 tsp (5 ml) dried oregano
1/4 cup (60 ml) fresh parsley, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) fine sea salt, or more, to taste
1-1/2 cups (360 ml) cooked chickpeas, well drained (canned are fine; rinse well before using)
6-8 artichoke hearts (about one large can), drained and sliced lengthwise
1/3 cup (55 g) natural almonds with skin, coarsely chopped
In the bottom of a large bowl, whisk together 3 Tbsp (45 ml) of the olive oil, lemon juice, basil, oregano, parsley, garlic and sea salt. Set aside.
In a large frypan, heat another 1 Tbsp (15 ml) oil. Add the chickpeas and cook over medium heat, stirring often, until they are all golden brown (this takes about 10 minutes). Add to the bowl.
Heat the remaining 1 Tbsp (15 ml) oil in the pan and add the artichoke hearts, cut side down. Cook until they are browned, stirring only once or twice to avoid breaking them up, about 5-10 minutes more. Add them to the bowl as well.
Toss the salad gently until the chickpeas and artie hearts are well coated with the dressing. To serve, spoon the salad onto serving plates and sprinkle with some of the chopped almonds (add any leftover almonds to the bowl and toss again). Serve warm. Makes 4 servings.
Last Year at this Time: A Bowl Lotta Love (meal-in-a-bowl)
Two Years Ago: Bittersweet Salad with Apples and Dandelion Greens
© 2010 Diet, Dessert and Dogs
[Do you have any idea how scary it was to snap a closeup of this alligator?!
Me, neither. (Source)]
After that harrowing ordeal in the airport and the relentless carnival atmosphere of Miami Beach in the first half of our trip, the HH and I were more than ready to head north to Sarasota, where my cousin Marketing Guru (MG) had promised a more serene lifestyle. So let’s hit the road, shall we?
I. En Route to Sarasota: See Ya Later, Alligator
[Can you believe how many alligators live along this stretch of Florida highway?? Me, neither. (Source)].
Leaving Miami, we headed along interstate Route 75, also known as “Alligator Alley.” This 200-mile (320 km) stretch of highway dissecting the Everglades offers the curious sightseer but one image: a seemingly endless vista of flat terrain dotted with the occasional tawny brush, swampland on either side, and a veritable army of alligators poised on either shore, patiently awaiting their lunch (human, perhaps?), effectively sporting their green leathery camouflage. I tried over and over to snap a photo as we whizzed by the monochromatic scenery, to capture only this:
[Can you spot the alligator in this photo? Me, neither.]
Finally, after about 2 hours without pit stops, bathroom breaks, or any other signs of civilized life, we lit upon Naples, then continued right through to Sarasota (with a quick rest stop at a local Sheraton Four Points Punta Gorda).
II. Sarasota: Feed Me!
I was initially a little wary before our reunion with MG,whom I hadn’t seen in about 10 years. It was also the first time I really got to know MG’s wife (MGW), with whom I’d never really spent any quality time. I shouldn’t have fretted: they were both incredibly hospitable, gracious and welcoming, and we four hit it off famously. I mean, for our first dinner out, MG suggested Chutney’s (“where spice is the variety of life”), primarily because “they have a daily vegetarian option.” (Is he a great guy, or what?) The combination Indian and Mediterranean menu provided more than enough choice for this Canuck gal. Thanks, cuz!
A cozy, unassuming atmosphere beckoned and the food, both homey and creative, was excellent. My pick (of course) was the vegetarian curry of the day (with chickpeas and vegetables) along with a hefty portion of the Mediterranean appetizer plate shared by us all (including baba ganouj, hummus, tahini and falafel). We did manage to get back to the house in time for an hour of ice dancing* before falling into bed. All in all, a great first evening!
III. Sarasota: Come Over Here and Give Me a Pug.
One of Sarasota’s most quirky public events is known as the ”Pug Parade.” For this annual festival, every dog owner in the city–nay, the state (and beyond) dresses up her or his pug, then sashays along a runway with said costumed canine to determine which will win the Dog Owner with Way Too Much Time on Their Hands award. (Okay, I made up that last part. But they do choose a winner for best dog costume.).
Well, as it turned out by sheer coincidence, the HH and I arrived on the selfsame weekend as this year’s parade! And by even greater coincidence, Marketing Guru and MGW have a pug! And her name is Misty! And Misty is a former Pug Parade Champion!
Needless to say, we attended this year’s Pug Parade.
Milling about under a massive tent in the center of a local park, I have never seen so many pugs in one place, let alone so many pugs in wildly creative costumes (biker pug with actual tatoos; sushi pug rolled into a giant nori roll; bride pug with bouquet and groom pug; geisha pug; birthday cake pug; ballerlina pug, Tiger Woods pug, Lady GaGa pug, Bug Pug, and any other kind of pug you can imagine). Misty, this time round, was dressed as Pugahontas. Ain’t she cute?
[Can you spot the alligator in this photo? It's right there in front, dressed up as a pug.]
Though she didn’t win this time round, Misty did receive a huge round of applause and several hoots.
Later, as we drove through the idyllic neighborhood with its palm tree-lined streets and placid parklands, the HH and I both marvelled at how beautiful the area was. A planned community, almost the entire city had been built from scratch.
“Oh, when we first moved in, there were still lots of alligators roaming the streets,” MGW told us. “And wild boars everywhere.” Alligators? Wild boars?
I nodded politely. “Wow,” I said. “You guys are brave to have moved here back then. Good thing the alligators have all gone now.”
“Well, not really,” she countered. “They just hang around the ponds now. You can usually spot a few at each pond.” Given there were ponds at just about every intersection, and given I had not yet spied a single solitary alligator with my own eyes, I remained incredulous. We approached another pond.
“Here, take my binoculars,” MGW urged as Marketing Guru slowed the car. I peered through the lenses at the not-so-distant shore. And. . . what the–?? That dark olive-grey mass in front of the trees. . . by George, it WAS an alligator! But wait! There were two more masses beside it, just over there to the right. . . ! And what was that further down the shore–??!! I could feel my skin begin to tingle.
“They stay still during the day, but they generally come out at night,” MGW informed us. “Don’t worry, though, they don’t come up to the houses. . . well, not anymore.”
And just like that, there went my dreams of moving to Sarasota.
IV. Sarasota, Sarasota: It’s a Wonderful Town!
As a perk of his position at the Sarasota Orchestra, MG was able to secure tickets to that weekend’s concert for the four of us (yippee!). On the playlist that evening were three performances: Bernstein’s “Three Dance Episodes from On the Town” (from which “New York, New York, It’s a Wonderful Town” originated); Barber’s “Violin Concerto Op. 14” performed by the young, critically acclaimed Elena Urioste (whose performances–both visual and aural–were stunning); and Saint-Saens’ “Symphony No. 3 in C Minor, Op. 78,” the organ symphony.
Our pre-performance dinner that night took place at Tropical Thai, another quaint spot that served up surprisingly good food. I was, again, surprised and delighted with the number of vegan options (there was even an entire page of Macrobiotic dishes!). I opted for miso soup, followed by a red curry with vegetables and tofu–not as tasty as the previous night’s Indian curry, but satisfying nonetheless.
Then, it seemed, just as we began to really relax and feel at home,** it was suddenly time to return to Toronto. Here we are now, a week after our return, and it feels as if we never left. And as a bonus, we were greeted last week with the biggest snowstorm so far this season. As Pepé le Pew would say, Le sigh.
["Mum, it definitely felt like you left to us. And don't worry about the snow--at least you won't find any alligators living in this climate!]
Well, if I can’t physically remain in Florida, at least I can travel back along the highway of gustatory imagination. I decided to recreate the delectable butternut-edamame hash I savored at Wish in Miami. With small, uniform cubes of roasted butternut squash cozying up to perky green edamame, both awash in a slightly gooey, slightly sweet maple glaze, this hash was the epitome of clean and delicious fare. I had to have it again!
My version uses yacon as a standin for maple syrup in the original, though you should feel free to swap it back if you prefer the latter or can’t find the former (unless you’re also on the ACD, that is, in which case, sorry–maple syrup is verboten).
The bright hues and fresh flavors of this dish are guaranteed to bring a little bit of Florida sunshine into your mealtime. And no alligators, I promise.
*That would be, “watching it on TV,” not “doing it.”
**Not that I’d ever get used to the alligators, however.
Butternut and Edamame Hash (suitable for ACD Phase I or later)
inspired by a dish at Wish restaurant.
With its combination of sweet squash, chewy edamame and sticky glaze, this high-protein dish makes a perfect accompaniment to any savory main course.
1 small butternut squash, peeled and seeded, cut into 1″ (2.5 cm) cubes
2 Tbsp (30 ml) extra virgin olive oil
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) fine sea salt
1 cup (240 ml) shelled, cooked edamame
2 Tbsp (30 ml) yacon syrup and 3 Tbsp (30 ml) water OR 1/4 cup (60 ml) pure maple syrup
1 small clove garlic, minced
1 Tbsp (15 ml) toasted sesame oil
1 tsp (5 ml) arrowroot powder or cornstarch blended with 1/4 cup (60 ml) water until smooth
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) maple flavoring (if using yacon syrup), optional
pinch fine sea salt
Preheat oven to 400F (200C). Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper, or spray with olive oil spray. Also spray a casserole or square pan and set aside.
Place the raw squash cubes in a large bowl and drizzle with the olive oil and salt. Toss with your (clean) hands until all the pieces are coated evenly. Spread the squash on the baking sheet in a single layer. Bake for 35-45 minutes, until the cubes are just tender. Remove the squash and reduce the oven heat to 350F (180C).
Meanwhile, in a small pot, combine the yacon/water or maple syrup, garlic, sesame oil and arrowroot mixture until well blended. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until the mixture boils and bubbles; continue to cook and stir for 30 seconds, until thick. Remove from heat and stir in the maple flavoring, if using; season with more sea salt to taste.
Place the squash cubes and edamame in the reserved casserole dish and pour the glaze over them; toss with a large spoon or spatula until all the squares are coated. Reheat in the oven until everything is warmed through, about 10 minutes. Stir again before serving. Makes 4 side servings.
Last Year at this Time: A break. But how about My Mother’s Potato Corn Chowder instead?
Two Years Ago: Bangkok Noodles with Cashews and Pineapple* (*Or, How to Get Your Meat-Loving Guy to Love a Vegan Meal)
© 2010 Diet, Dessert and Dogs
[Sometimes, you just want to eat something now. I've decided to offer a mini-post every once in a while, for a dish that comes together incredibly quickly or else is so easy to make that no recipe is required. Here's today's "Flash in the Pan." (For other FitP recipes, see "Categories" at right).]
 the pan
Thanks, everyone, for your sympathetic comments regarding my short career as an enemy of the state in my last post.  In retrospect, it was a truly hilarious experience (though not at the moment, unfortunately)!
Today, though, I’ve decided to pre-empt my second “How I Spent My Florida Vacation” post (that will be tomorrow, hopefully), for this quick-as-a-flash recipe that was so delicious, the HH and I fought over who got to eat the last few.
After prepping a butternut squash for the oven yesterday, I decided that for once, I wouldn’t throw away the seeds (they actually contain some amazing nutrition of their own, with nutrients not available in the plant’s flesh: protein, an array of minerals, heart-healthy Omega 3s and Omega 6s–and some impressive fiber). I had tried Eden Organics’ spicy roasted pumpkin seeds while on holiday, so I threw together my own reproduction.
These were easy, quick, and totally addictive. The only drawback is that the yield is a mere 1/3-1/2 cup (80-120 ml) of seeds from a single squash. You may want to start cooking your squash in bulk after trying these!
Oh, and for those of you in the GTA, I’ll be doing a talk and handing out samples of baked goods from Sweet Freedom this Sunday, at Covernotes bookstore in Newmarket. Hope to see you there at 3:00 PM!
Easy Spicy Roasted Squash (or Pumpkin, of course) Seeds
suitable for ACD Phase I and beyond
These light, crunchy, salty, spicy seeds make the perfect snack-on-the-go, for after school, or for bidding adieu to the Olympics on TV.
Seeds from pretty much any winter squash, scooped out of the shell, rinsed, cleaned and with squash fibers picked out
2 Tbsp (30 ml) Bragg’s Liquid Aminos, tamari, or soy sauce (use Bragg’s for ACD Phase I)
1 Tbsp (15 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
1/4 tsp (1 ml) garlic salt
1/4 tsp (1 ml) cayenne (or less, to taste)
additional fine sea salt, if desired (I didn’t use it–the garlic salt was enough for my taste)
Preheat oven to 375F (190C). Spray a small ovenproof casserole dish or loaf pan with nonstick spray or grease lightly with olive oil (a cookie sheet won’t do for this, as the liquid will spread too much). Add the Bragg’s, oil, garlic salt and cayenne and whisk briefly to combine. Add the seeds to the pan and toss them to coat as much as possible (there will still be excess liquid pooling in the bottom of the pan; this is as it should be).
Bake in preheated oven for 15-20 minutes, then remove and check the seeds. There should still be some liquid left in the pan. Toss the mixture to stir up the seeds and re-coat them in the (now slightly thickened) liquid. Return to the oven for another 10-15 minutes.
Repeat the steps of baking, removing the pan, tossing and re-coating the seeds once or twice more, until the liquid is absorbed and the seeds are dry and browned. Toward the end, you may want to check the seeds every 5 minutes or so to avoid scorching. (I baked mine for a total of 35-40 minutes).
Allow to cool, then dig in and enjoy–no need to shell these before eating, as the shells become thin and crunchy! Makes about 1/2 cup (120 ml). Store in a covered container at room temperature.
Last Year at this Time: Three Shindigs and a Mid-Term (Break)
Two Years Ago: My Favorite Mistake: Savory Filled Breakfast Crepes
© 2010 Diet, Dessert and Dogs
[Sometimes, you just want to eat something now. I've decided to offer a mini-post every once in a while, for a dish that comes together incredibly quickly or else is so easy to make that no recipe is required. Here's today's "Flash in the Pan." (For other FitP recipes, see "Categories" at right).]
While reading other blogs lately, I’ve noticed an increase in the number of savory breakfast recipes. Having been on the ACD as long as I have (longer than some Hollywood marriages, longer than Edge of Darkness was in movie theaters, longer than a piece of Stride gum’s flavor, longer than the beards on those ZZ Top guys), I’ve been enjoying savory breakfasts for some time. But it does feel great to know that so many of you are willing to give them a try, too!
When I saw this recipe for Egyptian fava beans, I knew I had to try it. It’s a variation on Ethiopian ful, about which I’d read many years ago–and have wanted to sample since. In fact, I’ve wanted to try fava beans in general for ages, but have been deterred (now, don’t laugh) because they still hold such negative connotations since I saw the original Silence of the Lambs. I just couldn’t bring myself to attempt something that was so relished by Hannibal Lecter.
Get over it, I told myself. These are friendly fava beans. And no liver in sight.
And so, I cooked up the dish. I mean, the recipe seemed so good and so easy, I jumped right in–fava beans be damned! (If only all phobias could be overcome so easily.). This dish is made with dried favas (versus the Martian-green fresh ones, which are obviously not in season about now). I must admit that I cut corners and used canned favas–I knew they had to be well-cooked, and didn’t want to risk messing up my first attempt. Next time, I’ll buy the dried beans and soak ‘em first.
While not quite as spicy as ful, this dish is certainly rich with flavor. The favas are a bit more starchy than your average legume, which made them even more breakfast-like in my mind; though, of course, you could eat this at any meal. At the same time, they’re packed with nutrition: one cup of cooked favas provides a whopping 13 grams of protein, 9 grams of fiber, almost no fat, and 14% of your daily iron. Their flavor is a bit unusual, slightly sour–almost fermented–yet creamy, satisfying and addictive all at the same time. And considering I ate almost the entire plate in one sitting, I’d say they grew on me pretty quickly.
I had mine with Meghan’s version of “instant injera“–a quick and delicious, high-protein, flatbread. Overall, a delicious, savory breakfast–one that won’t leave you craving dessert!
I’m thrilled that I can finally submit this as an entry in River’s E.A.T. World event–check out all of River’s amazing international dishes (and why not submit one of your own?)!
Side note: this is my last post before the HH and I head out on holiday for a week–to Florida! I was determined to spend at least some time in a warmer climate during my vacation from the college this year, and since my dad is there at the moment, it seemed a perfect destination. Thanks to everyone on twitter who recommended restaurants for this fast-food challenged gal.
Not sure whether or not I’ll be able to update from the road, so I’ll leave you with this nourishing breakfast (or lunch, or dinner) until I return.
See you all in about a week!
xo Ricki
Egyptian Fava Beans (ACD-friendly: Phase I or later)
adapted from Vegetarian Bible: Fresh from the Garden
1-1/4 cups (300 ml) dried fava beans, rinsed and soaked in cold water for at least 12 hours with 1 Tbsp (15 ml) baking soda (or just use canned, rinsed beans, as I did)
2 Tbsp (30 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
1 large onion, finely chopped
1 large garlic clove, minced
1 large tomato, finely chopped (seeded if you want to be fancy)
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) fine sea salt (or to taste)
pepper, to taste
1 small jalapeno pepper, sliced (remove seeds for less heat)
freshly squeezed lemon juice, to taste
Drain the beans and rinse well; place in a pot and cover with fresh water. Bring to boil, then lower heat and simmer until extremely soft. At this point, you should peel the waxy skin off each bean if you like (not essential, but much better as the skins are quite chewy). Simply squeeze one tip of each bean until the bean pops out of the skin (tutorial here). (I did this with the precooked, canned beans, and it worked perfectly.)
Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat and add the onion; cook for about 5 minutes, until it begins to soften. Add the garlic and cook, stirring frequently, until onion is soft and just beginning to brown. Add about half the beans to the skillet and mash with a wooden spoon or spatula to create a bean-onion mush. Add the remaining (whole) beans, tomato, and heat through. Season to taste with salt and pepper, and toss the jalapeno slices over all just before serving.
To serve, sprinkle the beans with fresh lemon juice (I used the juice of 1/2 lemon) and drizzle with extra olive oil, if desired. Best served with flatbread. Makes 2 large servings.
Last Year at this Time: Of Pods and Poetry: Arame and Edamame Salad (and some gratis Haiku thrown in for good measure)
Two Years Ago: Juicy Cuisine and Crunchy Granola (sugar-free granola recipe at bottom).
© 2010 Diet, Dessert and Dogs
* that’s “bites” in the sense of, “little tidbits that can be eaten in one mouthful,” rather than the sense of, “really sucks” (as in, “reality bites”) or even “little nibbles on the flesh of the one you love” (though, to paraphrase our most famous Prime Minister, DDD has no business in the kitchens of the nation–go ahead and nibble your sweetie, if you so please!).
[Two ACD-friendly confections: chocolate fudge on the left, carob-speckled halvah on the right (halvah recipe adapted from the one in Sweet Freedom)]
Well, it’s almost V-Day again. So, got any plans?
Over here in the DDD household, the HH and I long ago abandoned romance. Or perhaps I should rephrase that: the HH abandoned romance. I, on the other hand (nerd alert! nerd alert!) am the kind of gal who would swim in a river of romance if I could find one. I’d eat a triple-decker Banana Split of romance. I’d paint a billboard of romance. I’d crochet a three-piece suit of romance. I’d sleep on a duvet of romance. (“Mum, we’d sleep on a duvet of romance, too, you know. Except you won’t let us on the furniture.”)
I’d–well, you get the idea. Basically, I’m just a big blob of schmaltz (in the figurative sense, that is. I’m only a half blob of schmaltz in the literal sense, what will all that weight loss and everything).
In our house, my approach to Valentine’s Day goes something like this:
February 17, 2009: start thinking about ideas for next year’s V-Day.
July 12, 2009: while enjoying the outdoor jazz festival at the Beaches, surreptitiously write down all the HH’s favorite musicians so I can buy CDs for Valentine’s Day.
November 4, 2009: Stop at craft store to select yarn to knit a romantic scarf for the HH for V-Day. If I start knitting now, I’ll have it for Feb 14th.
January 15, 2010: So many cards for Valentine’s Day–which should I buy? Can’t decide. Buy two.
January 28, 2010: Browse through a plethora of blogs and magazines to find the perfect, romantic meal to cook up for Valentine’s Day. Consult existing list (alphabetized by course) to see which dishes would work best for the Big Feb One-Four.
February 2, 2010: Forget the groundhog! Must choose the perfect ribbon to wrap the HH’s Valentine’s Day gift!
February 9, 2010: Consider how best to deliver the HH’s gifts for the Day of Hearts–only five days away! Should I wrap each one separately, and hide them throughout the house in a kind of scavenger hunt? Should I put them all in the same box, and wrap it as one gift? Such decisions!
February 11, 2010: Pretend I’m baking for a TV spot when I am really secretly cooking up various kinds of chocolate truffles to include in my gift for the HH.
February 14, 2010: Fill a shoebox with mini teddy bear, hand-knit scarf, bag of cinnamon hearts, boxes of homemade truffles, key chain with “I heart You” on it, Miles Davis CD and Card #1 (the sappy one). Spend a couple of hours painstakingly drawing hearts and flowers plus line drawings of Ricki and the HH, in various shades of pink and red, on the outside of the shoebox, then wrapping with blue satin ribbon; stick Card #2 (the funny one) on the outside of the box. Set table with best linens (well, polyester made to look like linen, anyway), china, wine glasses and candlelight. Play something soft and romantic like Satie’s Petite Overture a Danser, and wait for the romance to unfold.
The HH’s approach? Goes something like this:
February 14, 2010: “So, is today one of those holidays where I have to get you a card or you get mad at me?”
Okay, I exaggerate. He usually asks me that question on February thirteenth.
Well, for anyone with similar romantic aspirations to mine, I present you with little bites of chocolate fudge–ACD friendly. These are an adaptation of the super-successful Fudge Two Ways I made a couple of years ago (and feel free to use that recipe if you can consume other sweeteners). The communion of unsweetened chocolate, yacon syrup and stevia creates an irresistible flavor, a bittersweet blend of cacao underscored with subtle hints of molasses.
Whether or not you’re hoping for romance this V-Day, these little bites will definitely bring some alluring chocolate into your life. In fact, you may just fall in love.
I’ve also submitted this recipe to Ellen’s “I Am Gluten Free” list of treats (both sweet and savory) for Valentine’s Day--hop over to take a look.
Love Bites (ACD-Friendly Chocolate Fudge–suitable for Phase I or II)
[Little white dots of cashew and macadamia nut are visible throughout, a result of my home-ground nut butters; the storebought kind won't have these same speckles.]
3/4 cup (130 g) chopped good-quality unsweetened chocolate (I used Cocoa Camino); or use unsweetened carob chips for ACD Phase I
1 Tbsp (15 ml) coconut oil, preferably organic (USE ONLY with carob option)
1/4 cup (60 ml) natural smooth cashew-macadamia butter (I just mixed together half cashew, half macadamia nut butter); or use all-macadamia for ACD Phase I
1/8 tsp fine sea salt
2 Tbsp (30 ml) yacon syrup, vegetable glycerin, or a combination
10-20 drops plain, vanilla, or chocolate stevia liquid, depending on the brand and your desired sweetness level
1 tsp (5 ml) pure vanilla extract or vanilla paste
1/4 cup (30 g) coarsely chopped walnuts, if desired
Lightly grease a 6 inch (15 cm) loaf pan, or line with plastic wrap.
In a large glass or metal bowl set over a smaller pot of simmering water (the bottom of the bowl should not touch the water), stir the chocolate (or chips and coconut oil, if using carob chips) until melted and completely smooth. Add the nut butter and salt and stir again until combined. Remove from the heat.
Add the yacon syrup, stevia, vanilla and nuts and stir well. Turn the mixture into the prepared pan and smooth the top.
Chill until set, about an hour; then cover with more plastic wrap and chill until very firm, 2 hours to overnight. Turn out onto a cutting board, peel away the plastic wrap, and cut into small squares. Makes 12-20 love bites. Will keep, wrapped in the refrigerator, up to 2 weeks. May be frozen.
Last Year at this Time: Featured in Clean Eating!
Two Years Ago: My Mother’s Potato-Corn Chowder
© 2010 Diet, Dessert and Dogs
Thanks, everyone, for your great comments on yesterday’s post! Honestly, I hadn’t thought that the “beeteroni” (thanks, Leah) was as far “out there” as it turned out to be, but am glad you liked the idea. This ACD really does spark some unusual culinary adventures!
[Quick housekeeping note before today's post: I've been working on updating the blog and finally added a "Press" page with links to the blog and cookbook, for those who are interested in such stuff (see Ricki keep interrupting the hosts on Rogers' daytime TV show!). I'll also be adding a candida-related page (with more info about my diet, treatments, resources, etc) in the next few weeks, and will be updating my blogroll. If I already read your blog and it's not on the list, or if you've got a blog that relates to one of the topics on my "Blogs I Read" page, please let me know with an email at dietdessertdogsATgmailDOTcom. Thanks! Okay, now on to the blog post. . .]
Do you love a challenge?
As a kid, I’d welcome almost any dare and embrace fresh challenges with gusto. Whenever the teacher solicited a volunteer to work out a problem on the blackboard (nerd alert! nerd alert!), I was the first to shoot my hand in the air. One time, my 3rd grade class was given a punishment to write a 200-word essay because two boys had been chattering incessantly at the back of the class (thanks, Norman and Sheldon). To eight year-old me, this presented a fun opportunity. I worked and re-worked my writing, counting articles and changing verb tenses until I achieved exactly 200 words. (Of course, my teacher didn’t notice, but at least it made the assignment more interesting). The next year, after my parents brought home a cocker spaniel, I spent every day after school with him for a month, a pile of dog biscuits by my side, enunciating an elongated “rrrrrroooolllllll” over and over ad nauseum until he finally picked up on the command (thanks, Sweeny).
Later on, once anxiety and insecurity hit in my teens and 20s, everything shifted. In those days, I preferred the anonymity of introversion, backing away from challenges as steadfastly as Salinger backed away from publicity. More than once, anxiety prevented me from accepting a promotion, leaping at an opportunity, or trying a new activity. Challenges passed me by like “Out of Service” subway trains gliding through the station.
And these days? Happily, I’ve settled somewhere between the two extremes (thanks, therapy).
So when I received an email from Elizabeth of Don’t White Sugar Coat It telling me about her (along with 4 other bloggers’) Super Breakfast Bowl Challenge, I knew I had to join in. The challenge asks you to use one of five atypical ingredients in a breakfast dish (and we all know how much I love atypical ingredients!), then send the recipe to the group as an entry for the event (and to possibly win some prizes). This week’s ingredient is avocado.
As it turned out, I’d just had a huge glass of a new apple-based smoothie I concocted this very morning! While most smoothies contain some variation on banana and/or berries, the only fruits I’m allowed to consume at the moment (thanks, ACD) are apples, pears and berries, and berries had featured prominently in one too many breakfast drink already. So–what the heck–I threw an apple into a smoothie. And some green stuff. And ended up with a green smoothie that tastes like apple!
This baby is what Angela at Oh She Glows would call a “Green Monster” (courtesy of leafy greens and avocado). Nothing monstrous in this glass, however. It’s very creamy–velvety, even–with a slight sweetness and pronounced apple-cinnamon flavor; the greens aren’t detectable. Apples provide soluble fiber (to keep those cholesterol levels healthy), avocado contributes heart-healthy monounsaturated fat, cinnamon stabilized blood sugar levels, pumpkin seeds offer immune-boosting zinc, and green leafys add, well, pretty much everything (but mostly some great minerals). With its additional boost of protein powder, this smoothie truly is a complete meal.
It’s also perfect for the breakfast bowl challenge. Thanks, Elizabeth!
If you’d like to join the challenge, head on over to Elizabeth’s blog (or any of the four others). And I’d love to hear about your favorite smoothie combinations as well–please feel free to mention them in the comments.
Apple Pie Smoothie
The ingredients in this smoothie are very flexible–liquid, you might say–so feel free to substitute your own favorite fruit or greens for those in the recipe.
1 medium apple (I like Gala, Crispin, Pink Lady), cored and cut in chunks (no need to peel if you have a strong blender)
1/3 to 1/2 of one medium cucumber, peeled and cut in chunks
large handful of spinach, kale, lettuce, or other mild leafy green
1/2 medium avocado
2 Tbsp (30 ml) raw pumpkin seeds or walnuts
1-2 tsp (5-10 ml) cinnamon, to your taste (I like a lot of cinnamon)
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) ground ginger
10-15 drops stevia liquid or 1-2 Tbsp (15-30 ml) agave nectar or maple syrup
1 cup (240 ml) plain or vanilla soy, almond or rice milk, very cold
1 scoop of your favorite protein powder, plain or vanilla (I used SunWarrior)
Place all ingredients in a high powered blender and blend until perfectly smooth (you can use a regular blender, but will likely have to blend in batches, or else use a bit more liquid). The smoothie will be very thick (I like to eat it with a spoon as a pseudo “pudding”), but if you like it thinner, add more milk or water until desired consistency is reached. Consume immediately. Makes one massive or two regular servings. And it really tastes like apple!
Note: made this way, the smoothie isn’t extremely cold. If you prefer a chilled smoothie, ensure that your apple and cucumber are refrigerated before using, or add a few ice cubes to the mix when blending.
Last Year at this Time: Sweet Potato for my Sweetheart: Spiked Sweet Potato Truffles or Truffle Cups
Two Years Ago: The Best Home Fries Ever
© 2010 Diet, Dessert and Dogs
I heard there’s this thing calleed “Super Bowl Sunday” going on today. Personally, I’ve never really seen the point. I mean, seriously, what’s the big fuss? A bunch of slightly overweight guys gripping a ball, then running and throwing it and then all that tumbling on the ground. Gee, and all this time I thought bowling was already passé. Silly me!
Well, pizza is one of those comestibles that suits any occasion, sporty Sunday or otherwise. . . so here’s my contribution to all those super bowlers out there.
While switching to a plant-based diet from a more omnivorous one can be traumatic for some, for me, meat was never much of an issue (I explain more about my relationship with meat on myAbout page). Instead, what I missed–and still miss, dearly–is my first love, milk chocolate. Why does something sadly so devoid of nutritional value have to taste so darned good? I also miss whipped cream (so I made my own version), soft-serve ice cream (hard to find a suitable substitute here) and the occasional marshmallow (though come to think of it, all of those others have more to do with sugar content than dairy or eggs).
But meat? Naw.
One exception, though, is pepperoni on pizza. Why the yearning for the greasy, paper-thin, spicy rounds of flesh and nitrates? I can’t be sure, but I think it may have something to do with Sundays during my childhood.
When I was a kid, my dad worked 6 days a week in his butcher shop, leaving our house before we children even emerged, creases still on our faces and with bed-head coiffures, for breakfast; he returned long after our dinner had left the table. But on Sundays, presumably, he rested. And what did he do instead every sabbath? He packed up the wife and kids into the family station wagon and drove back to that selfsame butcher shop so my mom could do her weekly “grocery” shopping from the store! (Sure, she had to go to the regular supermarket for other staples like lettuce, canned soup, canned tuna, etc., but meats, eggs, dairy and a dizzying array of imported crackers and cookies could be got at Dad’s shop).
We’d pile into the car-cum-delivery truck, make the trek across the city through scenic TMR over to Jean Talon Boulevard and into the vacant store. It was then the negotiations began.
“I want a Fruitella!” the CFO would cry; I’d chime in, “No! how about some SweeTarts?” The Nurse (if she graced us with her teenaged presence at all) would reach for the box of boozy European filled chocolates on the countertop.
“Just one each,” our father would admonish, but if we were really lucky (or sneaky), we’d each make off with another prize as well, my favorite: the Icy Square. Then we’d savor our sweets as my mother browsed the glass counters and chose her food for the week.
Behind the butcher block, suspended like offerings from the hand of some robotic deity, were huge salamis hanging on thick steel hooks. They dried in the open air, exuding droplets of fat as if sweating from the exertion of their acrobatic feat of hanging upside down. There were the thinner pepperoni sticks as well, and one in particular that my dad called “karnatzl“ (you can see what they look like here–scroll about halfway down the page). I never knew it at the time, but karnatzl is a Romanian word for the garlicky sausage–basially, thin pepperoni. And they were my very favorite Sunday snack.
My father would snap off a length of the solid, dehydrated sausage for us to gnaw on as we roamed about the store while my mother completed her “shopping.” The CFO and I would relish the crunchy, spicy meat that oozed with bits of gooey tallow in each bite. The concept of biting into animal fat now makes me shudder both physically and emotionally, but back then I was a carefree eight year-old happy to munch on a stick of beef parts.
My love of pepperoni endured until my first year or so with the HH, when we enjoyed All-Dressed Pizza Night on a regular basis. (I learned quickly when I moved to Toronto from Montreal that pizza is yet another way the two cities differ; in Toronto, you order by ingredient: “Gimme a medium thin-crust with double cheese, mushrooms, peppers and tomato”; in Montreal, in contrast, pizza is distinguished by title: “I’ll take a small Pepperoni” or “I’ll have a medium All-Dressed.”). When I was growing up, all-dressed pizza meant sauce, cheese, green pepper, mushrooms–and lots of pepperoni.
I decided I wanted a pepperoni pizza. No small feat, considering I don’t eat meat. Or gluten. Or cheese.
During my recent love affair with beets, I had a revelation: don’t those beet slices look sorta like slices of salami? Hmm. . . I just had to try it.
The result is this faux pepperoni, perfect on pizza or anywhere else you’d use a spicy, smoky slice of meat (I had the leftovers in a sandwich with tomato, lettuce and onion–superb!). The flavor is lovely, with only a hint of sweetness surviving the smoky, spicy marinade and baking time. The key here is to slice the pieces thinly enough to bake up soft and then slightly crispy on the edges (as you’ll see from my photo, this batch is a little thick. Must. Get. Mandoline.) Too thick, and they still have the subtle earthy flavor of, well, beets.
I will warn you, to create the entire pizza from scratch takes time. Next time, I’ll prep the cheese and pepperoni a day in advance, then cook up the crust and top it when I want to eat it for dinner. But if you’re craving an All Dressed Pepperoni Pizza, this makes a great stand-in, without any wheat, heavy processing, sugar, fillers, or isolated soy protein.
Now, isn’t that better than meat?
I’m entering this post in Food Renegade’s Fight Back Fridays, dedicated to real food recipes, since everything in this pizza is true food!
And speaking of televised events. . . for those of you in the Toronto area, I’ll be appearing on Rogers TV daytime show on Thursday, February 11th live at 10:00 AM (repeat at 5:00 PM) on cable channels 10 and 63 to discuss healthy chocolate Valentine’s Day treats. Tune in and let me know what you think!
All Dressed Pizza with Pepperoni Slices (ACD-Friendly–Phase II)
It’s a classic. . . all-dressed pizza. Great for family dinners, Super Bowl Sundays, or whatever occasion you please.
For the pizza:
1 recipe of your favorite pizza crust–I used this one
1 recipe of your favorite “cheese” (or use a premade one like daiya)–I adapted this one (my version below)
3/4-1 cup (180-240 ml) of your favorite pizza sauce (I made my own from canned tomatoes, basil, oregano and garlic powder, but this one sounds good)
toppings of choice: chopped green pepper, chopped red onion, black olives, mushrooms (if you can have ‘em) and PEPPERONI!
For the pepperoni:
3-4 very small fresh beets, peeled and sliced extremely thin (if you have a mandoline, go for it)
1 Tbsp (15 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
2 Tbsp (30 ml) Bragg’s liquid aminos OR tamari OR soy sauce
1/2 cup (120 ml) vegetable broth
1/4-1/2 tsp (1-2.5 ml) liquid smoke, to your taste*
1 tsp (5 ml) apple cider vinegar
2-3 drops plain stevia liquid or 1/4 tsp (1 ml) sugar
1/4 tsp (1 ml) garlic powder
1/4 tsp (1 ml) onion powder
1/4 tsp (1 ml) ground mustard
1/4 tsp (1 ml) fennel (ground is preferred)
1/8 tsp (.5 ml) sage
1/4 tsp (1 ml) smoked or regular paprika
Preheat oven to 325F (170 C).
Place everything except the beets in the bottom of a 9-inch (22.5 cm) square glass pan or a casserole dish and combine well. Add the beet slices and toss to coat them all; spread them out as well as you can (overlapping slices is okay).
Bake the slices, uncovered, for about 20 minutes, then remove from the oven and flip them over and around to re-coat them with marinade and switch the bottom slices to the top and top to the bottom as much as possible. Continue to bake and stir them up every 10-15 minutes until they have absorbed most of the marinade, are very soft, and begin to curl and crisp at the edges. Remove from oven and set aside until you need them for the pizza.
* If you can’t use liquid smoke because of candida issues, double up the smoked paprika.
For the sauce (adapted from this recipe):
1 cup (240 ml) vegetable broth
1 medium onion, coarsely chopped
2 cloves garlic, cut in half
1 large or 2 small carrots, cut in chunks
1 medium potato, peeled and coarsely chopped
1/4 cup (60 ml) raw cashews
1/4 cup (60 ml) melted coconut oil, preferably organic
1/2-1 tsp (2.5 -5 ml) fine sea salt, to your taste
2 more cloves garlic, minced
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) yellow mustard powder
1 Tbsp (15 ml) freshly squeezed lemon juice
1/4 tsp (1 ml) ground black pepper
pinch cayenne pepper
1/4 tsp (1 ml) paprika
In a medium saucepan, combine the broth, onion, cut garlic cloves, carrots and potato and bring to a boil. Lower heat to simmer, cover and cook for about 15 mintutes, until the vegetables are soft. Drain, reserving the cooking liquid. Set aside.
In the meantime, place the remaining ingredients in a blender and whir briefly to combine. Add 1/2 cup (120 ml) of the vegetable liquid and the drained vegetables to the blender and blend to create a fairly thick, smooth sauce. You will need to scrape down the sides several times and then blend again to ensure that everything is well incorporated (if you need a teeny touch more liquid, go ahead and add it–but don’t make the sauce too thin, or it will soak your pizza crust!). Use to top your pizza. Makes about 2 cups–too much for one pizza; I used leftovers on pasta the next day.
Assemble the pizza:
Preheat oven to 400F (200C).
Spread tomato sauce on the prepared crust and top with a healthy drizzle of the cheese sauce. Sprinkle with your toppings of choice. Bake in preheated oven for about 15 minutes or until the pizza is warmed through. Then top with the beet pepperoni slices as desired and bake another 10-15 minutes until piping hot. Makes one large pizza (feeds 2 in our house).
Last Year at this Time: Flash in the Pan: Grown-Up Fig and Walnut Baked Apples
Two Years Ago: If Vodka is an Elsie, then Beer is a Chaser
© 2010 Diet, Dessert and Dogs
During a conversation about something entirely unrelated yesterday, the HH uttered that well-known truism: “There are only two things you can really count on: death, and taxes.”
Well, I have to tell you (and I said this to the HH, too, of course), that hasn’t quite been my experience. For instance, I’ve found over the years that you can also count on the government to increase taxes every few years. And that the second I switch lines in the grocery store, the woman just ahead of me will pull out an item without a price code, necessitating a long and protracted search on the store shelves. And that winter will feel far too long, no matter how few snowfalls we receive.
And you can always–always–count on Britney to do something that prompts a flurry of media squealing, while concomitantly providing literature students everywhere a real, flesh-and-blood embodiment of the word, “bathos.”
Most of us also have our “old reliables” that we count on in the realm of food. My friend Sterlin, for instance, habitually cooked up Date Pasta whenever she required a quick and dependable meal to impress a potential beau (sadly, while the food always turned out great, the beau did not). The Nurse, on the other hand, can count two ”Wowzah!-Zowie!-Sacre bleu!” recipes in her repertoire, both guaranteed to dazzle friends who drop in on a moment’s notice; they’re invariably bowled over when presented with a plate of still-warm, enticing and from-scratch hunks of cake within 30 minutes of arrival (either a fragrant, warming Cinnamon Coffee Cake –recipe handwritten, grease-stained and fading, on an old index card from my mother’s collection–or a lickety-split Chocolate Cake from the legendary Second Helpings, Please!, nowadays known as Wacky Cake).
In recent years, the Butterscotch Blondies from Sweet Freedom (which can be mixed, baked, and ready to eat in about 35 minutes) have asserted themselves as my new standard “old reliable” recipe. Before the blondies, however, my favorite quick and easy dessert was always apple crisp.
Which is odd, not least because apple crisp contains no chocolate. It’s neither a dessert I crave, nor even one I particularly love. Part of this indifference stems from a distaste for baked apples (at least, until I tried these). Still, apple crisp is easy, it’s quick, it can be made with relatively few ingredients, and it’s familiar, comfort food. It can pass for pseudo-healthy (an apple a day, and all that). And it’s even permitted within my ACD-determined restrictions on sweeteners, since it relies on the natural sweetness of the fruit itself.
Last week, when the HH and I were invited to dinner at my friend Eternal Optimist’s place, I returned to my Granny Smith roots and threw together a stevia-sweetened crisp to feed the five of us in attendance. Though the dessert went over well, I wasn’t entirely pleased with the texture of the crumble topping, which seemed a tad dry without sugar to caramelize and provide gooey binding power.
The following day, I’d cooked up some savory pumpkin biscuits based on this recipe (I subbed pumpkin for sweet potato, omitted the sweetener, used flax instead of Ener-G and added sage and garlic salt to the mix–fab!), and subsequently found myself wondering what to do with the leftover pumpkin. Then it hit me: why not mix it with the apples in a crumble-type bar? It seemed the perfect solution, adding texture and flavor to the humdrum apple. (“Mum, that combination sounds a little odd to us, actually. And you know we could have helped you dispose of all that extra pumpkin, no problem.”)
So I played with the original and came up with this layered bar that boasts a moister filling and softer crumble than the all-apple one. The topping, when pressed into place, also forms the bottom crust; the filling is tart and textured, with tender shoots of grated apple suspended throughout the pumpkin purée.
If you like your fruity desserts sweet, though, take note: my version only barely verges on what could be called “sweet” (in fact, the HH informed me it wasn’t quite sugary enough for his taste). Feel free to add more stevia, agave, or other sweetener, as you like. And less sweet means you needn’t feel guilty if you decide to consume the leftovers for breakfast the next day–if there are any, that is. But I wouldn’t count on it.
Since these bars straddle the line between “dessert” and “healthy,” I thought they’d be the perfect contribution to Amy’s Slightly Indulgent Tuesdays event, over at Simply Sugar & Gluten-Free.
Apple Pumpkin Crumble Bars (ACD Friendly–Phase II)
Dense, moist, and not too sweet, these bars are a perfect afternoon snack or weekday dessert. The fruity filling isn’t gooey like that of a true apple crisp, but more like unsweetened applesauce. The bars are even better the second day, after the crust has a chance to absorb some of the moisture from the filling and softens up a bit.
1/3 cup (80 ml) melted coconut oil, preferably organic
2 Tbsp (30 ml) yacon syrup or agave nectar (or maple syrup would work, too)
20 drops plain or vanilla stevia liquid
1 Tbsp (15 ml) finely ground flax seeds
1/3 cup (80 ml) plain or vanilla soy, almond or rice milk
zest of one lemon
3/4 cup (80 g) walnut pieces
1/2 cup (90 g) natural almonds (with skin)
1 cup (115 g) old-fashioned whole rolled oats (not quick cook or instant)
1/3 cup (45 g) coconut flour
1 Tbsp (15 ml) cinnamon
1 tsp (5 ml) ground ginger
1/4 tsp (1 ml) cardamom (optional)
1/8 tsp (.5 ml) fine sea salt
2 cups canned or homemade unsweetened pumpkin purée (sweet potato would make a great substitute here)
3 medium sweet apples, peeled, cored and grated on large holes of a box grater
2 Tbsp (30 ml) freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 tsp (5 ml) pure vanilla extract
20-30 drops plain or vanilla stevia (to your taste), or 1/4 cup-1/3 cup (60 ml-80 ml) agave nectar
Preheat oven to 350F (180C). Line a 9″ (22.5 cm) square pan with parchment, or spray with nonstick spray.
In the bottom of a large bowl, whisk together the melted coconut oil, yacon syrup, stevia, flax seed, soymilk and lemon zest; set aside.
In the bowl of a food processor, blend together the walnuts, almonds, oats and coconut flour until the nuts are ground and mixture resembles a coarse meal. Add the cinnamon, ginger, cardamon and salt and blend just to mix. Add the dry ingredients to the wet mixture in the bowl and toss with a fork (as if making pie dough) until it comes together in a very moist yet crumbly dough (it will stick together if pressed, but should readily separate into crumbles if tossed with the fork). Set aside while you prepare the filling.
To make the filling, mix together the pumpkin, apple, lemon juice, vanilla and stevia.
Take about half the crumble mixture (you can just estimate) and press it firmly into the bottom of the pan. Top with the filling, spreading evenly. Sprinkle the remaining crumble mixture evenly over the filling and press gently with the palms of your hands.
Bake in preheated oven until edges are browned and the top of the crumble begins to brown a bit. (The filling won’t bubble the way typical fruit pie fillings do). Allow to cool to room temperature before cutting into squares; reheat if desired to serve. Makes 9 large servings. May be frozen.
Last Year at this Time: Nava’s Sweet and Sour Cabbage and Bread Stew
Two Years Ago: A North American’s Anzac Biscuits (or, My Ode to the Antipodes).
© 2010 Diet, Dessert and Dogs
Dogs really are creatures of habit, aren’t they? I mean, every morning at precisely 7:02 AM (about 1-1/2 minutes after the HH slams off his alarm), Chaser bounds into our bedroom and lays a wet sloppy one on the HH’s ear (translation: “Dad, it’s time to get up! Get up, Dad, we need to go for our walk! C’mon, Dad! Let’s go! Just hop outa bed and take us! C’mon, what are you waiting for? C’mon—” etc.).
Then, at precisesly 1:15 PM every afternoon, Elsie saunters over to my desk and plants herself at my side, glaring (and if you’ve ever seen a Border Collie stare, you know the power of “the eye.”). If I continue to focus on the computer screen and tap away at the keyboard, she will tentatively and ever-so-gently poke me on the thigh with her moist, cold nose (more startling in summer when I’m wearing shorts, to be sure). Translation: “Mum, I feel I must inform you that the hour has arrived for our afternoon walk. Seriously, Mum, it appals me that you could forget this important hour of the day. After all, do we not go for a stroll each and every day of the week at this time? And are we not reliant upon you to take us? Now, please, offer us the courtesy of rising up from your chair and coming downstairs so that we may embark–right now.”
Yep, like I said, creatures of habit. Later, at precisely 4:53 PM every day, both Girls heave themselves off their respective pillows to pad into the office and station themselves on either side of me as I work, staring intently in a silent summons like bookmarked lawn gnomes. Translation: “Mum, it’s almost dinner time. Where the &%$!@ is our food?” (Okay, perhaps they weren’t as profane as that. But it’s always fun to imagine dogs cursing, isn’t it?).
Given that I was born in the Year of the Dog myself, it makes sense that I, too, am a creature of habit. Or, at least, I used to be. Before I met the HH.
Like South Park’s stance with Canada, I tend to blame the HH for my current shortcomings. Long before we met, in my twenties (also known as the Decade of Firsts, in which I first went to university, first lived on my own, and first met not one, but two true loves), I was incredibly organized and even followed an hour-by-hour schedule every day, permitting me to live through an entire university career without ever missing a deadline. Subsequently, during the Decade of the Dinner Party, I still managed a schedule jam-packed with socializing, full-time work, sewing my own clothes (!), and regular trips to and from Montreal.
Enter my 40s and the HH: not only did I meet my true love, but my lasting love. It was around that time–when the HH and I first moved in together–that chaos erupted. Okay, not chaos, exactly, but certainly the reorganizing of closets. And–even while continuing to throw dinner parties–going to bed without washing all the dishes first (gasp!). And being open to unplanned activities. And (and here’s where I blame the HH) the eschewing rigid schedules.
Well, despite his disdain for pre-planning or scheduling, the HH is his own uniquely habitual creature. Unlike me, he eats the same breakfast every day* (I prefer to rotate through 25 or so different options). The HH takes the dogs to the same park every morning (I switch it up between the park, the baseball field, the Mill Pond, and trail). The HH can listen to the same symphony over and over, sometimes for hours (I rarely listen to the same CD twice in a row–unless it’s a new, incredibly talented singer that I adore, of course).
Which brings me to today’s recipe (finally!). As you may recall, the HH and I used to keep a weekly date every Tuesday, wherein I’d meet him for a sushi lunch. But since the anti-candida regime I follow doesn’t permit sushi (no white rice, no vinegar, no sugar, blah blah blah), I’ve had to forgo our midday shared meal. Do I miss that sushi? You bet! (Well, and yes, I do also miss meeting the HH for lunch every week. . . but really, we do see each other every evening for dinner, and when we walk the dogs, and when we watch 30 Rock, and when we have brunch on Sundays, and when we tidy the house together before friends come over, and when we run errands on Saturdays, and when we. . . geez, maybe we’re overdoing this togetherness thing a bit, anyway).
I decided I’d whip up my favorite at-home sushi for lunch on my own. Since the original version wasn’t exactly ACD-friendly, I adapted; instead of the orignal sundried tomatoes (which are taboo on the ACD), I made my own semi-dried oven baked tomatoes. (Who says I can’t be flexible? No rigid recipes for this doglike gal!). Well, it worked beautifully. The rolls are (mostly) raw, grain-free, and reminiscent of salmon (in my memory, anyway). All I can say is, “domo arigato!” And it sure did feel great to get back to that old sushi habit, even if I shared it with The Girls instead of the HH.
“We enjoyed it, too, Mum. Thanks for sharing. But, um, didn’t I hear you say something about salmon?”
* A bowl of Raisin Bran with milk, if you’d like to know.
Raw Nori Rolls with “Salmon” Filling and Spicy Ginger-Miso Paste
adapted from a recipe from Enlightened Eating (spiralbound edition)
A great recipe for those avoiding grains or anyone seeking a delicious variation on sushi. If you’re not following an anti-candida regime, go ahead and make the original. The Miso paste can be enjoyed by anyone.
Nori Rolls:
3/4 cup (135 g) raw almonds with skin
1 pint (about 500 ml) ripe grape tomatoes
2 tsp (10 ml) light miso
1 Tbsp (15 ml) freshly squeezed lemon juice
2 tsp (10 ml) Bragg’s liquid aminos, tamari or soy sauce
freshly ground black pepper, to taste
cut vegetables for filling: zucchini, cucumber, carrots, avocado, daikon, green onion, etc.
2 sheets nori (sushi wrappers)
Spicy Ginger-Miso Paste:
1 Tbsp (15 ml) white miso
1/8-1/4 tsp (.5-1 ml) cayenne pepper, depending on desired heat
1 tsp (5 ml) toasted sesame oil
2 tsp (10 ml) finely grated fresh ginger
1 tsp (5 ml) freshly squeezed lemon juice
For the nori rolls:
Prepare the “Salmon” filling: Soak almonds in room temperature water for 8-12 hours. If you soak them longer, refresh the water after 12 hours and store in refrigerator for up to one more day. Drain and rinse before using.
Meanwhile, prepare the tomatoes: preheat oven to 300F/150C (or, for a completely raw dish, heat to 115F/45C or use a dehydrator). Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper, or grease with extra virgin olive oil. Cut each tomato in half and place cut side up on the baking sheet. Bake in preheated oven 1-2 hours, checking every 20 minutes after the one-hour mark, until tomatoes exude most of their juice and begin to shrivel and brown slightly. (If using a dehydrator, dehydrate until shrivelled).
Place drained almonds, tomatoes, 2 tsp (10 ml) miso, 1 Tbsp (15 ml) lemon juice, Bragg’s and black pepper in the bowl of a food processor and process until almost smooth. Set aside.
Prepare the Paste: in a small bowl, mix together all ingredients with a spoon until well combined and smooth.
Assemble the rolls: Spread about half of the miso-ginger paste over the nori sheet, spreading to the edge on 3 sides, leaving about 1/2 inch (2.5 cm) empty on one edge. Top with about half the salmon spread. Place 3-4 rows of desired vegetables along the edge opposite the empty edge, like so:
Next, use a sushi mat or just your hands, roll tightly starting at the edge with the cut vegetables. When you reach the empty stripe at the end of the nori sheet, moisten it with a bit of water and then roll up, leaving the seam down (against the table). Cut into 5-8 pieces. Repeat with second nori sheet. Makes 2 servings.
Totally unrelated note: One of today’s Google searches leading to my blog read, “Die Dessert Dogs.” Is that a typo, or just a really ticked off blog reader?
Last Year at this Time: The Biscuit and the Scramble (to Woo Your Rake)
Two Years Ago: Sweet Potato and Chocolate Chip Mini (or not) Muffins
© 2010 Diet, Dessert and Dogs
When I first thought about the holidays this year, I resigned myself to the usual ACD fare: hummus, salads, lots of greens and maybe some veggie patties. But then I thought, why shouldn’t I have a great holiday dinner, too? I set to work coming up with a delicious menu that both the HH and I could enjoy together–complete with a yummy dessert.
If you’re on an anti-candida (or any sugar-free, gluten free) diet, the holidays don’t have to be dire! Anti-Candida Feast will provide everything from appetizer to dessert for your holiday meal. I’ve created a dozen brand new recipes and paired them with a few more favorites from this blog.
All recipes are gluten free, stevia-sweetened and suitable for anyone on an anti-candida diet, or any diet that features whole, natural foods and is free of gluten, eggs, dairy, and sweeteners (except stevia) or anything artificial. (Some recipes are suitable for phase 2 of the ACD, containing unsweetened chocolate, coconut milk or gluten free flours).
Here’s what you’ll get in this 29-page ebook:
–Tips on dealing with the anti-candida diet
–Sixteen recipes, including:
* Includes full color photograph.
To order your own copy of Anti-Candida Feast for just $5.00 US, use the “Buy Now” button in the left sidebar, or click here for the Ebook page (PayPal button is after the book description).
And don’t forget that you can win many of the ingredients to make the desserts in the ebook by entering the healthy baking kit giveaway–running until tomorrow! Just click here to enter.
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