Years ago, I saw a cartoon in a women’s magazine. In the frame were two girls aged about 5 or 6, facing each other.
Girl One (self-satisfied smile on her face): My mommy lets me eat candy every day.
Girl Two: (scowling): That’s not candy, stupid. That’s broccoli.
Girl One (crushed): You mean. . . broccoli isn’t candy?
I remember thinking, Ah, if only parents could convince their kids to eat broccoli that easily!
Even though I don’t have kids of my own (“What do you mean, Mum? Aren’t we your kids?”), I’ve come to realize from being with my cousins’ and friends’ children that kids can have some pretty idiosyncratic eating habits indeed.
Way back in high school biology class, we learned that children’s taste buds are much more attuned to sweet tastes than are adult’s taste buds. So flavors that appeal to a child (I’m thinking Froot Loops, Jawbreakers, chocolate-covered marshmallows) can be cringe-inducing and lip-puckeringly sweet to a grown-up. In addition, we tend to develop tastes for things as adults that we wouldn’t get close to as kids (artichokes, anyone? Or how about avocados? And I’m still amazed that I could have ever hated coconut!).
I’ll never forget visiting with my friend T’s family when I was around six. Every weekend in the summer, T’s parents would lug me along with their brood to their country house up in the Laurentians. It was basically a big box made out of wood with a stove on one end and a sofa on the other; T and I slept up in the attic, which we loved, as if afforded us our own private bunkhouse where we’d occasionally retreat during the day as well, to escape T’s bratty younger brother, M.
One morning as we made our way down the ladder for breakfast, I spied T’s mother carrying out what looked like contorted performance art, flapping her elbow as she swirled a butter knife inside the peanut butter jar. When I asked what she was doing, she replied, “Well, M will only eat peanut butter from a new jar, with a smooth, fresh surface on top. So before he wakes up every morning,” (and with this, she smiled at me conspiratorially), I smooth it out for him so he’ll think it’s new.” Even at age six, I remember thinking, “Wow, that is an awful lot of work just to convince a snotty-nosed four year-old to eat peanut butter.”
My friend Babe’s daughter, on the other hand, refuses to consume any kind of pasta dish but one: a specialty they call ”Aunty K’s Pasta,” a basic butter-and-cheese macaroni that her aunt prepares at home and delivers to Babe’s house once a week. Babe then rewarms the pasta and serves it alongside whatever she’s made for dinner that night.
My own peculiar childhood culinary proclivities ran the gamut from cutting my mom’s homemade hamburgers into tiny, bite-sized pieces, then burying them in the accompanying mound of mashed potatoes before I’d scoop up the whole mess, forkful by forkful (even back then, it seems, I didn’t want to see meat on my plate!); to casting out coconut (see above), to eschewing cheese cake (crazy, I know), to filling my chicken soup with so many crushed soda crackers that it resembled gruel more than soup; to spurning strawberry ice cream.
In fact, I hated any kind of fruit at all in ice cream in those days, but strawberry was by far the worst offender. Chocolate was my one and only flavor of choice, and it was all I ever ordered when we were lucky enough to be taken to the local ice cream parlor. As the years went by, I broadened my scope a wee bit and would occasionally ask for Double Chocolate Chip (chocolate with a side of chocolate chips); Chocolate Swirl (chocolate with a side of chocolate sauce); or Heavenly Hash (chocolate with a side of chocolate chips, chocolate sauce and chocolate brownie bits). Basically, it was all chocolate, all the time.
As it turned out, my dad’s favorite ice cream was Neapolitan, with its equal stripes of chocolate, vanilla and strawberry; I had to make do. My tactic was to remove the entire box from the freezer, allow it to soften somewhat, then scrape along the outside edges of the chocolate and vanilla stripes, leaving the pink pariah virtually untouched. Eventually, I’d eat almost all of the other two flavors, leaving a slightly melty mound of strawberry in the center surrounded by a kind of moat all around it, like those abandoned sand castles you see on the beach that were washed over by the tide a few times.
I’m glad to say that these days, my tastes in ice cream range far and wide (though a quick glance at this blog’s Recipe Index does suggest a heavy emphasis on chocolate-basedice creams). Today’s recipe is one I developed for the Sweet Victory cleanse, and it’s been a huge hit here in the DDD household. Of its dense, creamy texture, The HH remarked, ”It’s like a really good quality ice cream.” And one of the Sweet Victory participants wrote, “I loved the caramel ice cream (sort of like magic…I can’t figure how that combination turns into caramel, but it does). ”
In other words, don’t let the odd mix of ingredients here deter you. This really does taste like caramel! And topped with the warm cinnamon-apple mix, it’s like pure comfort in a bowl. Of course, if you prefer not to combine your caramel with apples (or if you happen to have some fussy kids at home), just leave it off and have the ice cream on its own. Or add a handful of chocolate chips, or some chocolate sauce, or brownie bits. . . you know you just can’t go wrong with chocolate.
“Mum, that ice cream sounds great and all, but what do you mean, broccoli isn’t candy? Next thing you’ll be telling us is that sweet potatoes aren’t meat!”
Caramel Ice Cream with Apple-Cinnamon Topping (No Ice Cream Maker Required!)
Adorned with a swirl of cinnamony-apple filling, this ice cream is a perfect melding of caramel and fruit. If you prefer to leave out the apple, this is delicious on its own, too, or stir in some coarsely chopped chocolate or carob chips just before serving.
For the Caramel Ice Cream:
1 cup (155 g or 5.5 oz) raw cashews
1 cup (240 ml) sweet potato purée (I use homemade, from baked sweet potatoes, but I’m sure canned would be fine)
1 cup (240 ml) full-fat coconut milk (I use organic Thai Kitchen )
2/3 cup (160 ml) unsweetened plain or vanilla soy, almond or rice milk
Prepare the ice cream: Set 9 silicone liners in a muffin pan and set aside, or line an 8 inch (20 cm) square pan with waxed paper and set aside.
Place all ingredients in a high-powered blender and blend until smooth. You may need to scrape down the sides a few times. Divide evenly among the muffin liners or pour into the pan. [Note: if you'd rather use an ice cream maker, simply pour the mixture into it at this point and follow manufacturer's directions.]
If using the muffin liners, freeze until firm, 5-6 hours, then peel off the silicone cups and place the disks in a sealed plastic bag or container in the freezer. Pour into silicone cupcake liners and freeze; peel away liners and store the disks in a ziploc bag in the freezer. If using the pan, freeze just until firm, 2-3 hours. Invert on a cutting board, peel off the waxed paper, and cut the square into 9 equal pieces. Place the pieces in a sealed plastic bag or container in the freezer.
Make the apple topping: Place all ingredients in a small pot over medium-low heat. Once the water is bubbling, lower heat to simmer, cover, and cook until apples are completely soft and all the liquid is absorbed, 30-40 minutes, stirring frequently. Once the desired texture is achieved, remove from heat and allow to cool. Store in a covered container in the refrigerator until ready to use. Makes enough for 4-6 servings of ice cream.
When ready to make the ice cream, remove one disk or square per person. Cut each disk or square into 3-4 smaller pieces and place in the bowl of a food processor. Process until smooth (the pieces will break up and resemble crumbs before they start to come together in a ball), then press down with a rubber spatula and process briefly once more until smooth. Scoop out into serving dishe and top with desired amount of apple topping. Makes a total of 9 small or 6 large servings (for large servings, use 1-1/2 disks or squares per serving). Will keep, frozen, for up to 3 months.
[Totally unrelated note: ever wonder how people find your blog? Well, ever since I wrote my post about our holiday in Florida, the number one search term that leads people to my blog is. . . "Alligators." Yes, indeedy: folks looking for reptilian, steel trap-jawed people-eaters are sent to. . . my blog. In droves. Well, hi there, Everglade adventurers! Howdy, outback croc-hunters! Welcome, designer shoe and handbag aficionados!]
By now, it’s probably evident that I’m a fan of spinach. Certainly, devoting an entire SOS Kitchen Challenge to the popular leafy green is one indication (and if you hurry, you can still participate: the deadline is May 20th!).
It was through my friend Sterlin that I first learned to love spinach. Even before I moved to Toronto myself, I was a frequent visitor to Sterlin’s place (her parents had pulled up stakes and made the trek from Montreal to Toronto long before I did). I loved visiting this “exotic” metropolis, where, with Sterlin as both tour guide and chauffeur, we’d scour the city for interesting restaurants, university-based events, or dance clubs (in those days, single undergraduates in search of a boyfriend, we still frequented dance clubs).
After a long evening of inane chatter, bopping in our blister-inducing heels and drinking too many beer (I never did acquire a taste for the brew), we’d drive back to Sterlin’s parents’ house, and, with the intense precision and focus of a neurosurgeon, unlock the door without making a sound, the way only truly inebriated twenty-somethings can. Once inside, we removed our shoes and tiptoed into the kitchen to raid the fridge, where, inevitably, we found. . . nothing. (Okay, not literally “nothing.” There was a half-eaten carton of cottage cheese and a few cans of Diet Coke). At this point, Sterlin would move to the freezer, where she’d withdraw one of 5 or 6 boxes of frozen spinach (the only item in there).
“Want a snack?” she’d whisper, brandishing the box in the air. “Mmm! Let’s have some spinach!”
“Spinach?” I’d counter, equally susurrating, ” As a snack??” I was accustomed to the cornucopia of home-baked chocolate chip cookies, chips, licorice, and other assorted junk foods in my own parents’ kitchen.
But snack on spinach we did. Sterlin loved the stuff so much that is was contagious, and I learned to love it, too. I can’t say I ever think of frozen spinach as a snack these days, but I wouldn’t turn it down if someone offered it. (Beer, on the other hand, still doesn’t tempt me).
The second spinach epiphany I experienced courtesy of Sterlin was the classic 1980′s spinach salad. You know the one: baby spinach leaves coated in creamy, nondescript dressing, topped with a generous toss of chopped hardcooked eggs and a sprinkling of crispy bacon bits. Back then, one of Toronto’s destination restaurants was a brand-new, ultra hip joint called Mr. Greenjeans (a current relative of the original place still exists, in a new location and without the flair or cachet of the original).
Their specialty was–get this–salad (rather ahead of their time, don’t you think?). And what made Mr. Greenjeans’ salads worth driving all the way downtown for? Why, their presentation: each portion of fresh greens was packed into a huge mason jar, perched atop a white plate the size of an hors d’oeuvre tray at a wedding. Once served, you had the choice of picking at the salad right from the jar (the cool way) or emptying it onto the plate (the loser way).
Like an early iteration of Sassafras (where the gliterati hang out during the Toronto Film Festival), Mr. Greenjeans attracted diners not really because of the food, but more because of the reputation for cool. After waiting in line for a table, we’d hope for a window seat, where we could see and be seen, scanning the sidewalk outside for celebrity sightings or people we might know. In those days, everyone who was anyone hung out at Mr. Greenjeans.
No wonder, then, that I thought of spinach as the first vegetable to include in a muffin when I first opened my organic bakery back in 2003. In my zeal to include healthy veggies–especially leafy greens–in my recipes (and to provide an incentive to kids to eat their veggies), I created the Sweet Harvest Muffin, boasting not one, not two, but three different vegetables, including spinach. Providing one full serving of vegetables in each muffin, the Sweet Harvest quickly became my best-selling product, and it was the first recipe I knew I’d include in Sweet Freedom.
With this month’s SOS Challenge devoted to spinach, I decided to create an ACD-friendly variation of that best-selling muffin as my “sweet” entry to the challenge. Based on the Green Monster smoothies that are ubiquitous on the internet, these contain both spinach and apple combined with carob and cinnamon, ingredients I often include in my own morning beverage.
While these Green Monsters aren’t quite as sweet as the original muffins (which contain both raisins and chocolate chips), they do still make a tasty breakfast on the go; in fact, they tasted good enough that the HH noted he’d be happy to take one along to the office for his morning coffee.
With the sepia carob masking its green, the spinach remains hidden in this muffin. You may not be getting quite the same quantity of spinach as you’d consume in an entire box of the frozen stuff, but you can feel good eating one of these babies for breakfast, knowing it provides a good sized hit toward your daily five to ten servings of fruits and vegetables.
And speaking of breakfast baking. . . I’ll be talking about breakfast (and other) baked goods from Sweet Freedom this Thursday morning on the Canadian version of Good Morning America, Canada AM! I am incredibly excited to share information about healthy eating with hosts Bev Thomson and Seamus O’Regan. So set your PVRs, video recorders, etc for Thursday, May 20, between 8:00 and 9:00 AM!
Green Monster Muffins (ACD Phase II and beyond)
These muffins are a great way to start the day with both some fruit and some vegetables. They’re sweet, but not overly so; and you won’t taste the spinach at all. (Promise).
2 small apples, about 6-6 1/2 ounces (170-185 g) each, washed and cored (I used Granny Smith)
3 ounces (85 g) fresh or frozen spinach (include the stems)
1/4 cup (60 ml) natural smooth almond butter
2 Tbsp (30 ml) sunflower or other light tasting oil, preferably organic
2 tsp (10 ml) chia seeds, finely ground after measuring
2 tsp (10 ml) pure vanilla extract
1 tsp (5 ml) pure almond extract
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) apple cider vinegar
1-1/3 cups (320 ml) unsweetened soy or almond milk, plus up to 2 Tbsp (30 ml) more, if necessary
1/2 cup (60 g) carob powder*
1/2 cup (75 g) brown rice flour
1/2 cup (60 g) millet flour
1/4 cup (30 g) arrowroot powder
2 tsp (10 ml) cinnamon
1 Tbsp (15 ml) baking powder
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) baking soda
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) xanthan gum, optional (muffins will be slightly crumbly without it)
1/4 tsp (1 ml) fine sea salt
Preheat oven to 350F (180C). Line 12 muffin tins with paper liners, or spray with nonstick spray.
Coarsely chop one of the apples and place it in the bowl of a food processor. Dice the other apple into very small pieces (about the size of blueberries) and place in a small bowl; set the second apple aside until later.
Add the spinach to the food processor, and process the mixture until almost smooth. Add the almond butter, oil, chia, vanilla, almond extract, vinegar and milk and process again until well blended. Add the reserved diced apple to the processor and mix it in by hand until all the pieces are coated, but don’t process again. Set aside while you measure the dry ingredients, or at least 3 minutes.
In a large bowl, sift together the carob powder, brown rice flour, millet flour, arrowroot powder, cinnamon, baking powder, soda, xanthan gum and salt. Add the wet mixture to the dry and stir until just blended.
Using a large ice cream scoop or 1/3 cup (80 ml) measuring cup, scoop the batter into the muffin cups and bake in preheated oven for 35-45 minutes, rotating the pan about halfway through, until a tester inserted into a center muffin comes out clean. Cool five minutes in the pan before removing to a cooling rack. Cool completely before sampling; the spinach will be discernible in the warm muffins, but the taste disappears once they’re cool. Store, wrapped in plastic, in the refrigerator up to 4 days. May be frozen.
* you may use cocoa instead of carob, but cut back the quantity a bit (perhaps 2 Tbsp/30 ml) and add a bit more sweetener.
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.
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.
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.
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, 45-55 minutes, rotating pan about halfway through. (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.
I thought it would be fun to run a little series over here at DDD: I’ll profile one one of my favorite foods, or a food that I’ve recently discovered and enjoyed, over several days. The series is presented on an occasional (and entirely arbitrary) basis, before I move on to the next lucky comestible. This is the final entry on apples.
Even though it’s the US Thanksgiving holiday (Happy Thanksgiving, all!) and I’m Canadian, (we in the Frozen North celebrated last month), I am still feeling incredibly thankful today. There are the obvious, quotidian reasons: my (long-suffering, incredibly tolerant and indulgent-of-my-quirks) HH, The (furry, funny and entirely fetching) Girls, my dear friends and family.
But perhaps less obviously yet just as importantly, I’m thankful for the world of bloggers, my blog buddies (both new and long-standing) and amazing readers and commenters who visit this site. I’m sure you all know that a blog is a lonely, deserted space without the community of readers and commenters, but perhaps we bloggers don’t acknowledge that often enough. So thanks, folks, for sticking around and taking part. I love (lurrrrve) hearing from you!
And–there’s more! Right about now, I’m thankful for my lucky streak these past few days. I’d say I feel like one of the luckiest bloggers in the world. Why?
EXHIBIT “A”: Prize Number One!
I was the delighted recipient of a package that arrived in the mail this week, from the lovely Elizabeth at Don’t White Sugar Coat It. I won Elizabeth’s “Stevia in the Raw” giveaway, and was tickled to open up the box to see this:
I’ve never used powdered stevia before and haven’t encountered this particular brand, either, so I am keen to get started creating recipes! Today’s giant pancake was made with this new ingredient (yum!). Thanks so much, Elizabeth–I can’t wait to see what other ACD-friendly goodies I can whip up with it!
EXHIBIT “B” : Prize Number Two!
But wait, folks, there’s more! Yesterday,I received an email from Ashley over at Eat Me, Delicious , informing me that I was also the winner of her Epicure Selections package! This generous giveaway prize is made up of some awesome baking tools and ingredients (including some mouthwatering Belgian chocolate–mmmm!). Of course I’ll post about the package, with photos, when it arrives; all I can do for now is dream about what I’ll concoct, and drool. How lucky can one gal get? Thank you, Ashley!
EXHIBIT “C”: Prize Number THREE!!!!
I know, it’s totally outrageous that I would win THREE prizes–and, in fact, I didn’t! Instead, I’m giving this prize away to one of you! I’ll be holding my own giveaway next time (be sure to come back and check in)–but for now, perhaps I can entice you with this lovely teaser photo. Can you tell what this prize will be? All I will say is that it’s beautiful, it’s healthy, and I try to consume some every day. . . and it’s not chocolate! For all the details and how to enter, see my next post.
Gee, I could kinda get used to this Thanksgiving thing!
Well, I couldn’t end this Lucky Comestible: Apple series without a dessert (especially since I promised to include one dish for each course of the meal). Now, I know that a pancake is traditionally a breakfast food, but the base was so cakelike that I decided to use it in this post. Besides, if I can eat dessert for breakfast on occasion (okay, too many occasions to mention), well, why not breakfast for dessert?
I’ve been thinking about giant pancakes ever since I read Alisa’s post a while back on her Apple Dutch Baby. This delicacy isn’t quite as puffy or moist as a true Dutch Baby, but it does have an authentic pancake fluffiness. By placing the apples under the batter, you ensure complete cooking (and won’t end up with those underbaked, slightly crunchy slices you get sometimes in muffins or quick breads). Then, when you flip it over, you’ll have a lovely and visually impressive treat to serve your guests, your family–or just yourself.
I made these with almost no added sweetener, as I enjoy the natural sweetness of the apple. For breakfast, I serve my slice with almond butter for a complete meal. To serve the pancake as a conventional dessert, however, I’d add the suggested sweetener to the recipe, and would even top each serving with some maple syrup and perhaps a dollop of whipped cream. A berry coulis would also be superb drizzled over the top of the pancake.
And if a delectable, ACD-friendly pancake for dessert isn’t something to be thankful for, well, I don’t know what is.
“Mum, we’re thankful for your pancakes, too. Especially the leftover ones that you give to us. Oh, and squirrels.”
Giant Baked Upside-Down Apple Pancake
A perfect weekend breakfast or dish for a brunch crowd. Slice and wrap pieces of the pancake, then store in the fridge for breakfast throughout the week.
Apple Botton/Top:
1 large sweet apple (such as Gala or Delicious), peeled, cored and cut in thin slices
1 Tbsp (15 ml) cinnamon
2 Tbsp (30 ml) Sucanat (omit for ACD-friendly version)
Pancake Batter:
1/3 cup (80 ml) cashew butter, room temperature
1/2 cup (120 ml) unsweetened applesauce
1 tsp (5 ml) pure vanilla extract
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) pure almond extract (optional)
2 Tbsp (30 ml) agave or maple syrup, 15-20 drops stevia liquid, or 2 packets dry stevia (such as the Stevia in the Raw I won!)
3/4 cup (180 ml) plain or vanilla soy, almond or rice milk
1/3 cup (50 g) brown rice flour
1/4 cup (60 ml) coconut flour
1/4 cup (60 ml) oat flour (or grind oats in a coffee grinder to a fine powder)
1 tsp (5 ml) ground cinnamon
2-1/2 tsp (12.5 ml) baking powder
1/4 tsp (1 ml) baking soda
1/8 tsp (.5 ml) fine sea salt
Preheat oven to 350F (180C). Line a large tart pan, springform pan or pie plate with a circle of parchment paper; then grease both the pan AND the paper (this is necessary to ensure that the fruit bottom unmolds properly; if you don’t intend to flip the pancake over after it’s baked and you just cut slices straight from the pan, you can omit the parchment).
In a small bowl, combine the apple, 1 Tbsp (15 ml) cinnamon and Sucanat, if using. Toss with a spoon or your hands until all the slices are coated, taking care to separate any slices that stick together (discard any coating that’s left at the bottom of the bowl). Place the slices in a single layer (or just slightly overlapping) over the bottom of the pan in a decorative arrangement. Set aside.
In a medium bowl, whisk together the cashew butter, applesauce, vanilla, almond extract, agave or stevia and chia until combined. Slowly add the soymilk and whisk until well mixed. Set aside.
In a large bowl, sift together the remaining ingredients. Add the wet mixture and stir until well combined. Carefully drop the batter by spoonfuls evenly over the surface of the apples, then spread gently to cover all the fruit, disturbing the slices as little as possible. Smooth the top (it’s okay if a few bits of apple stick out here or there).
Bake the pancake in preheated oven for 35-45 minutes, rotating the pan about halfway through, until the top is golden, the edges are browned and a tester inserted in the center comes out clean. Remove from oven and allow to cool completely. Once cool, carefully run a knife along the outside edge of the pancake to loosen it. Invert a serving plate over the pan and flip it over (the pancake should fall right out onto the plate). Gently peel off the parchment paper (the apples should be in the same positions as they were when the pancake went into the oven; if they’re not, carefully rearrange them on top of the pancake).
Serve with maple syrup, fruit purée, or ice cream. Makes 6-8 servings. May be frozen.
[I thought it would be fun to run a little series over here at DDD: I'll profile one one of my favorite foods, or a food that I've recently discovered and enjoyed, over several days. The series is presented on an occasional (and entirely arbitrary) basis, before I move on to the next lucky comestible. This is the fourth entry on apples.]
After reading all your comments about the Apple and Red Wine Soup the other day, I began to wonder if perhaps I’d been a tad hasty in my panegyric to the soup. Was I too effusive in my praise? I mean, it’s just soup, right? And soup is just food. So what if it has caramelized onions in it? Onions, soft and browing at the edges, infusing the room with their sweet, enticing aroma. And apples, sautéed to golden, yielding perfection, tart and tender and melding with those onions. Oh, and let’s not forget the added piquancy of red wine–a good, hearty, robust wine that would be great on its own, but added to the soup, it creates a rich, thick, beguiling first course—heck, forget that apology! I LOVE THAT SOUP.
Okay. I am now done with the soup. Promise.
But before I move to the main course, I wanted to say “THANKS” for an award from Ashley at Eat Me, Delicious–I’ve been so focused on apples that I forgot to mention it last time! Thanks so much, Ashley, for the “One Lovely Blog Award”! It is much appreciated (and you know I’d love to cook meals for you–come visit!) I’m supposed to pass this along, but there are so many blogs I love to read that I really can’t choose. I mean, that would be like choosing between Elsie and Chaser. And isn’t “demure, gentle and sweet” just as appealing as “wacky, hilarious and in-your-face”? Each has its own charms. And so, you are all Lovely Blogs!
I know, you’re thinking, “Okay, so now can we eat that main course?!” Mais, oui, bien sur!
To be honest, this dish was originally intended as an appetizer or side dish, but the “real” main course I attempted a few nights ago was, shall we say, never going to earn a star on the Culinary Wok of Fame. I’ve got a new one in the works, and if it’s a success, we’ll relegate today’s recipe to the back of the table and I’ll post about a new main. Otherwise, it’s time to dig in to terrine!
Whenever I take to whining and whinging about the frigid winters here in Toronto, some smart aleck inevitably pipes up, “But you’re from Montreal! How can you not like winter?!” Well, take it from me, bud, just because you’re born somewhere doesn’t guarantee that you love the climate. (Do you think the polar bears at the Florida Zoo feel like sunbathing?)
And it’s not just the weather (though for the life of me, I will never understand the appeal of minus 30C, snow up to your waist, icicles dangling from your scarf, or having to wear those metal cleats on the bottom of your boots to prevent falling flat on your derrière when you walk two dogs every afternoon). No, it’s also the unrelenting gloom (today’s forecast: gray. Tomorrow: dark gray. After that: whitish gray. Next day: deep gray–etc.), the ridiculous quantity of layers required to prevent frostbite of the extremities; the woolen toques that flatten your hair in thin, swirly wisps that adhere to your forehead; the traffic at a near-standstill every time it snows; the ever-shorter window of daylight, when darkness slams down in a matter of seconds, like a guillotine.
So it’s not an exaggeration to say that I seriously dislike cold. Which works out pretty poorly for me every year between, say, mid-October and the beginning of May. But it worked out extremely well, on the other hand, for this potato terrine.
A while back I spied a recipe for a layered potato terrine with apple and camembert cheese and decided to create my own version, with potato, apple and my favorite goat “cheese” (since, as you may have guessed by now, I’m a little bit obsessed with that cheese). So far, so good.
While the process was fairly involved, it wasn’t difficult, and I had no trouble assembling all the ingredients, layering them in the pan, allowing them “settle” overnight or unmolding the terrine the next day. I was pleased with the fairly compact slices, even without the inclusion of melty camembert to bind them together.
The HH and I sat down, ready and eager to dig in to our (cold) first course. A tentative first bite, and then. . . I pushed the plate away. It wasn’t awful; just nondescript: white on white on off-white on beige (well, it did sort of resemble snow that way. . . ). Curses!
But then it occurred to me–maybe it was those cold potatoes? Great in a salad, but in a terrine. . . well, not so much. I grabbed the plates and popped them in the oven to heat through. Ten minutes later, the HH and I were digging in to a wonderfully warm medley of sweet and salty, with tender spuds offering a perfect base for rich cheese and tart apple. Warmed up, this dish really excelled, appealing to the palate in a way that was entirely lacking in the cold version.
The terrine could serve as a delicious main course alongside a crisp side salad (maybe something like the first one in this post), or some bright, barely steamed broccoli or green beans to add color and textural interest.
And while I know the dish was really intended to be served chilled, I much prefer my version. Like everything else at this time of year, I simply couldn’t abide the cold.
To all my American readers and friends, HAPPY THANKSGIVING!
“Um, Mum, what did you mean by ‘in-your-face’? That sounds annoying to me, Mum. As if I keep badgering you when I want to play ball, or as if I whine a lot when I want to play frisbee, or as if I howl at you when you sit at your desk trying to blog because I want you to toss my pull-toy, or as if I nip Elsie’s face and ears when I want her to play with me, which is pretty much all of the–”
While it does require a bit of advance preparation, this is a lovely dish to wow the guests. Unmold the whole terrine on a platter, then slice in thick pieces at the table.
1 recipe Cashew Goat Cheese (or your favorite cheese–one that melts would, in fact, be even better in this recipe)
about 2 pounds (1 kg) new potatoes, peeled
3 granny smith apples
2-4 Tbsp (30-60 ml) coconut oil or other light-tasting oil, preferably organic
2 Tbsp (30 ml) chopped fresh parsley
freshly ground pepper
Line an 8″ (20 cm) loaf pan with waxed paper and set aside.
Boil the potatoes in a large pot of salted water until just soft, about 15 minutes. Drain and cool.
Once the potatoes are cool, cut them into thick disks about 1/2″ (1 cm) thick. Heat about 1 Tbsp (15 ml) of the oil in a nonstick pan over medium heat; cook the potatoes until just golden, then turn and cook the other side, adding more oil as necessary. Remove to a plate that has been lined with paper towels to drain.
Core and slice the apples into 1/4″ (5 mm) thick rounds. Heat another 1 Tbsp (15 ml) coconut oil in the pan and cook the apple until golden but not mushy. Drain on paper towel.
Preheat oven to 350F (180C). Arrange a layer of the potatoes in the pan, then top with a layer of apples and a layer of cheese (you can try to spread the cheese over the apples, or just place dollops of it evenly across the surface). Sprinkle with half the parsley. Repeat the layers, then finish with a final layer of potatoes.
Cover the pan with foil, sealing well. Bake in preheated oven until heated through, 30-40 minutes. Remove from oven and allow to cool slightly.
Place a piece of cardboard on top of the foil covering the pan, and put weights over the cardboard (I used cans of tomatoes) to compress the layers. Refrigerate overnight. Unmold and slice into thick slices to serve cold. To serve warm, remove cans, cardboard, and foil; reheat in 350F (180C) oven for about 20 minutes, until warmed through before slicing. Makes 4-6 servings as a main course, or 6-8 as a side dish. Best eaten within 2 days.
[I thought it would be fun to run a little series over here at DDD: I'll profile one one of my favorite foods, or a food that I've recently discovered and enjoyed, over several days. The series is presented on an occasional (and entirely arbitrary) basis, before I move on to the next lucky comestible. This is the third entry on apples.]
Did you win the Trail Mix Giveaway? Don’t forget to check here!
And now, our Lucky Comestible Apple series moves on to the soup course of the meal. . .
This soup is an all-time favorite of mine. One taste, and I promise you’ll be a devotee, too. Hey–this soup should have its own fan club! No, this soup should be featured on YouTube! This soup is a souper-star. You will love this soup!
Seriously, if you don’t love this soup, I will eat my hatmy wordsmy way through the northeastern states your portion as well as my own! I would marry this soup if I could. I LOVE THIS SOUP THAT MUCH. (sorry, HH–nothing personal).
In fact, I’ve been dreaming about this soup, on and off, for the past 20 years or so. I first encountered its enticing, tart and textured charms almost two decades ago, when I was invited to my former office mate’s home for dinner. Besides being strikingly beautiful (she had worked as a model for a while before teaching) and incredibly hip, Ms. Mate was also the very first vegan I knew personally (as if beauty and cool were not intimidating enough). I couldn’t believe I’d scored an invitation–I mean, Ms. Mate wore Yves St. Laurent jackets–to teach in! And she donned funky wigs, just for fun! She had a voice like Kathleen Turner and looked like Brigitte Nielsen (well, when the latter was still pretty); and I was in awe of her.
I don’t remember the rest of the meal, but that night I was served a standout apple and red wine soup (after the salad, I might add), and was immediately smitten. The slightly tannic base, thick with puréed apple and red as a lover’s blush, was oddly mesmerizing. I begged her to share the recipe.
Once I’d copied it meticulously from her cookbook (the name of which has dissipated forever into the ether of my age-addled memory), I took it home and filed it in my “soups” recipe folder. There it lay, neglected and withering, for months at a time. Whenever a special occasion would arise–a dinner party, say, or the holidays–I’d determine to revive the apple-red wine romance, slide the page from the folder, place it on the counter, and leave it there it lay for a few days, before I sheepishly returned it to its resting place. For one reason or another, I never made it again.
As soon as I decided to run this Lucky Comestible series on apples, however, I knew which soup recipe I’d use. Last week, I strode over to my cookbook shelves and withdrew the “Soups” folder once again. I began to leaf through the recipes. . . then checked again. . . then went through them all, one page at a time. Horrors!–the soup recipe was gone!!
I can’t adequately express the devastation I felt at realizing I’d somehow either lost or misplaced that recipe. I simply couldn’t imagine leaving it out. It’s the perfect “Let’s-try-something-different-this-holiday-season” soup, the perfect “let’s-wow-the-guests” soup, the perfect “I-love-you-be-my-Valentine” soup. Besides, I hadn’t eaten it in 20 years, and the memory of that unique flavor and texture was still compelling. I decided to try to reproduce the soup from the taste memory.
I’m happy to report that the results were stellar. Not only did I fall in love all over again, the HH was besotted, too.
“Hey, this tastes like real food!” he enthused. (I stared blankly.) “You know, like it has butter and cream and maybe even meat in it.” (For the HH, that is a compliment. But no, there’s no taste of meat in it.)
My soup isn’t quite as red as I remember the original being, but the flavor was just as I’d dreamed it. Thick, rich, and full bodied, with a slightly creamy texture that’s nevertheless robust, both warming and filling. The flavor is definitely that of apple, yet savory and slightly piquant at the same time.
I still love this soup, and am thrilled to have had this reunion, two decades later. And now you can fall in love, too. This would be perfect to serve if you’re looking for something a little different this Thanksgiving.
Just don’t forget where you filed the recipe.
Apple and Red Wine Soup
This is a great first course for a festive holiday meal. As such, serve in small bowls or soup mugs–the soup is filling, and you want to leave room for the rest of the meal! This also makes a perfect winter’s lunch with a salad and big hunk of crusty bread.
1 large onion, chopped
4 large crisp apples, peeled, cored and diced (I used MacIntosh and HoneyCrisp)
2 cups (480 ml) vegetable broth or stock
2 Tbsp-1/4 cup (30 ml-60 ml) maple syrup, to taste, or 10 drops stevia
2 tsp (10 ml) cinnamon
pinch nutmeg
1/4 tsp (1 ml) cloves
2 tsp (10 ml) freshly grated lemon zest
1 Tbsp (15 ml) fresh lemon juice
1/2 cup (120 ml) drinkable dry red wine (or use unsweetened cranberry juice for ACD-friendly version)
1 Tbsp (15 ml) arrowroot powder
1/2 cup (120 ml) full fat coconut milk, plus more for garnish
Heat the oil in a large pot or dutch oven over medium heat. Add the onion and apple and sauté until the onion is translucent and the apples begin to give off a bit of liquid, about 10 minutes.
Add the broth, maple syrup, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, lemon zest and lemon juice; lower heat. Cover and simmer until the apples are tender, 15-20 minutes.
Meanwhile, mix the arrowroot with the coconut milk in a small bowl. Once the apples are tender, add the coconut milk mixture and stir to blend well. Allow to cook for an additional minute, until thickened. Turn off heat.
Pour the mixture in batches into a blender, or use an immersion blender, and blend until smooth. Return the soup to the pot, stir in the wine, and return to heat until the soup is heated through, about 5 minutes. Garnish with a drizzle of coconut milk, if desired. Makes 4-6 servings. May be frozen.
ACD adjustments: use stevia instead of maple syrup, and unsweetened cranberry juice instead of the red wine.
[I thought it would be fun to run a little series over here at DDD: I'll profile one one of my favorite foods, or a food that I've recently discovered and enjoyed, over several days. The series is presented on an occasional (and entirely arbitrary) basis, before I move on to the next lucky comestible. This is the second entry on apples.]
[Quick note: Don't forget about the Trail Mix Giveaway--running until Friday! ]
As I was finally catching up on some long overdue blog reading the other night (and please forgive me if I haven’t been leaving as many comments as I used to–I promise I’m still reading!), I came across Diann’s post mentioning her 4-year blogiversary (congrats, Diann!).
It suddenly struck me that I’ve missed my own 2-year anniversary (at the end of October). Could it be that I’m preoccupied with end-of-semester assignments and marking? Perhaps the excitement of Halloween clouded my memory (okay, not a great excuse–my memory is always clouded). Or is it my fretting over an upcoming TV appearance for my book** on November 17 (be sure to watch if you’re in the Toronto area!). Probably none of the above. It’s just that I was just spending too much time mulling over the appropriate sequence of courses for this current Lucky Comestible series. I mean, does one serve the salad before the soup, or soup before the salad?
Hmm. That’s a tough one. According to the Wellspring of All Things Informational, Wikipedia, soup follows the first course (which they call the entrée) ; after that, we have some fish or relevées (lighter courses), then a main dish, and then a salad, with dessert and cheese plate in pursuit. It’s common knowledge in these parts that Italian meals often serve a salad toward the end as a kind of digestive aid (which makes total sense, as the raw ingredients contain enzymes that do just that).
Well, now that I’ve discovered the joy that is Waldorf Salad, I wasn’t about to save this darling for the end of the meal!
Believe it or not, I had never tasted a true Waldorf Salad before making this one. (I know! Even with me being all worldly and everything). As a young adult, for me the name always evoked images of raucus witticisms and much imbibing at the Algonquin Round Table; impeccably-coiffed socialites in Chanel Suits, their French poodles (equally coiffed) trotting alongside on golden leashes; or Holly Golightly peeking in that store window before Breakfast (all of which occurred, of course, in the same city as the hotel in which the salad originated).
While I knew it contained apples, I wasn’t as clear on the other ingredients. I imagined it must have something exotic, such as mizuna or ugli fruit (okay, not really; in those days, I didn’t even know what ugli fruit was. I just liked the name). Or that it involved a multi-stage, every-pot-in-the-house sort of preparation.
In a recipe like this one–containing only 3 ingredients besides the mayo–that mayonnaise is pivotal. In fact, the full gastronomic experience of the salad–the entire salad “zeitgeist,” if you will–is determined by that mayo. Mayo Rules!
If you’re already familiar with a prepared mayo that you like and think would go well here, by all means, use it. I’ve rarely used jarred mayo in the past, preferring to make my own. And while the results have been perfectly fine for items such as mock tuna salad or even Celeri Remoulade, for this salad, I wanted something a little lighter, a little more delicate in flavor. And I found it–on Vegan Epicurean’s blog!
The mayo recipe she created is perfect. It’s airy, fluffy, not at all unctuous, yet rich and creamy, with just the right degree of tartness and sweetness to balance the oil. I made mine in a VitaMix, but it should work in a regular blender as well (see recipe for pointers).
The first time I made the salad, I foolishly halved the recipe, assuming the HH and I could never eat it all. (Silly me.) It was amazingly good. Crisp, juicy, sweet apple bits complemented by crisp, juicy, slightly bitter celery bits, punctuated by crisp, toasty walnut bits, all coated in bits of creamy, smooth, ethereal mayonnaise. And wouldn’t you know it–bit by delectable bit, I ate half the bowl. (As did the HH.)
Whether you serve this as a first course, following the soup, or as a post-prandial nibble, no matter. It’s a joy to eat any time.
“Mum, I’m sure we would find that salad a joy to eat, too! Oh, wait; for us, pretty much anything is a joy to eat. But can we still have the leftovers anyway?”
**If you don’t yet have a copy of Sweet Freedom, this is a great time to get one for yourself, or as a holiday gift for someone else! Receive personalized, signed copies of the book mailed to you (so you have plenty of time to wrap and go before the holidays) for just $25 including taxes, shipping and handling. Why not enjoy some delicious, healthy sweet treats this holiday season? Offer good until December 1st!
A wonderful first course for a meal, or as a side dish with a summer dinner. There’s a reason this salad is a classic–it’s still irresistible, even today.
1 large sweet, crisp and juicy apple (I used Honeycrisp), cut into bite-sized pieces (about 2 cups/480 ml)
1/2 cup (55 g) lightly toasted walnuts, broken into pieces
1/2 cup (120 ml) halved green grapes (optional)
1 cup (240 ml) great-tasting mayonnaise (I used this recipe, with the ACD variation, below)
Place the apples, celery, walnuts and grapes in a large bowl. Add the mayo and stir to coat well. Either eat immediately, or store, covered, in refrigerator until ready to serve. To serve, garnish with more chopped walnuts, if desired. Makes 4-6 servings.
1 cup plus 2 Tbsp (270 ml) sunflower or other light-tasting oil, preferably organic
1/4 tsp (1 ml) apple cider vinegar
2-4 drops stevia liquid (to your taste)
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) fine sea salt
1-1/2 tsp (7.5 ml) fresh lemon juice
1 tsp (5 ml) finely grated lemon zest
1/4 tsp (1 ml) dry mustard powder
Blend all ingredients in a high speed blender until thick, scraping down sides as necessary. Transfer to a jar and refrigerate before using. (If using a conventional blender, blend all ingredients except oil. Then, with motor running, slowly pour the oil into the blender and allow the mixture to emulsify. Transfer to a jar and refrigerate before using). Makes about 2 cups (480 ml).
[I thought it would be fun to run a little series over here at DDD: I'll profile one one of my favorite foods, or a food that I've recently discovered and enjoyed, over several days. The series is presented on an occasional (and entirely arbitrary) basis, before I move on to the next lucky comestible. This is the first entry on apples.]
Honestly, where does the time go? Here we are on November 5th–but wasn’t yesterday Halloween? Now that I finally seem to be clawing my way out of my flu funk, the days are whizzing by (if only they’d whiz directly to mid-April–do not collect $200, do not pass snow–that would be great. I, for one, could do without winter.)
Well, whether we want to or not, at this point most of us are thinking ahead to the holidays. With that in mind, I’ve got two great suggestions before I turn to today’s Lucky Comestible.
If you’re looking for some delicious holiday-themed dishes, take a look at Nava Atlas’s A Bountiful Vegan Thanksgiving ebook. At 78 pages, it contains a slew of recipes, from appetizers and soups to salads, side dishes, entrées, stuffings, sauces, and desserts. While most of the recipes are Nava’s own, she also includes dishes from ”guest” chefs like Beverly Lynn Bennett, Fran Costigan, Dreena Burton, Isa Chandra Moskowitz, Robin Robertson and Susan Voisin, among others (and two recipes by yours truly!). I was thrilled to receive my copy and even though we’ve already celebrated Thanksgiving here in Canada, I still saw lots of recipes I can serve up at Christmas time and through the new year. Best of all, profits from the book are all going to some of Nava’s favorite charities. Click here for more info or to buy.
And don’t forget that Sweet Freedomis on sale until the beginning of December! With over 100 recipes for all your favorite sweet treats made healthy (plus a few unexpected goodies!), you can have your cake this holiday season, and great health, too. The book would also make a wonderful gift, and can be signed for the recipient. Just click on the book cover at left or the Cookbook link at the top of the page for more info or to purchase.
And while I was thinking about the holidays, I decided on the focus of this sixth Lucky Comestible series. Although I love pumpkin and have a few recipes that include it on this blog, there’s never a shortage of pumpkin-based recipes at this time of year. I got to thinking about other autumn produce and how I could incorporate it into my holiday menus. And since I’ve recently seen the return of limited fruits to my culinary repertoire, I immediately decided to highlight one of these not-so-sweet beauties in my next Lucky Comestible series. And then it hit me–why not apples?
I mean, apples are, in a way, the original fruit (though technically those naked lovers did gorge on pretty much every other fruit before they bit into that MacIntosh). And it’s true what they say–your daily Granny Smith could very well be a means to protecting your health. Apples are also visually appealing, tasty, portable snacks; and, I daresay, they are probably the single fruit consumed by the largest number of people. They’re sort of like the Miss Congeniality of fruits. In fact, they’re actually the Sally Field of fruits–we like them! We really, really like them. How many people don’t enjoy apples?
Far from being a mundane pleasure, then, apples are a healthy indulgence that come in a variety of shapes, sizes, and appellations. Of course, we’re all familiar with cute little Granny Smith, with her tough exterior and tart insides, or the sweet and delicate Delicious varieties. But how about the Scarlet O’Haralson or Summer Rambo? Apples take on Hollywood! If you’re curious about all the names bestowed upon this common fruit, check here.
Apples are also associated with myriad historical facts and trivia. For an amazingly comprehensive list of all things apple, check out this incredible post by Johanna of Green Gourmet Giraffe (Thanks, Johanna!).
Of course, we all know how versatile the forbidden fruit is in terms of flavor combinations; besides the seminal apples and cinnamon, apples can chum around with savory curries, sweet spice mixtures, your choice of alcoholic beverages, caramel, and even chocolate. It’s also a flexible ingredient that contributes equally well to any course of a meal. So I thought it would be fun to run the gamut of courses, featuring an apple-based dish spanning appetizer to soup to main course and dessert.
Ready for your appetizers? Let’s begin with this astonishing roasted red pepper and apple dip. Wouldn’t this look beautiful on a holiday buffet table?
This recipe hails from Nicole Routhier’s Fruit Cookbook, a massive tome that’s been wedged in my cookbook book case between Meena Pathak’s Indian Cooking for Family and Friends and the Moosewood Low Fat Favorites for almost a year without stirring (pun intended. Oh, and that reminds me, I really need to organize my cookbooks already). A book based on fruit recipes seemed perfect for my apple quest, so I pulled it from the shelf and began to browse. The original dip was intended for grilled shrimp, but we had it over grilled tofu with favorable results. It would also go exceptionally well spread on crackers, or as a base in either a grilled eggplant or avocado sandwich (or both together).
The alluring triad of smoky peppers, tangy Granny Smith, and fiery chili flakes was enough to win my heart (and my taste buds)–after enjoying this spooned over tofu, I took to spooning it straight from the container and into my salivating maw. One part chutney, one part part salsa, and one part jam, this is a perfect spread for almost any food. With a cheery orange blush (perfect for the season!) and slightly grainy texture, the dip looks beautiful mounded in a serving bowl and struck me as a fitting centerpiece for a platter of simple sweet potato “fries.” Let the holiday menus begin!
(And stay tuned for a very festive giveaway coming up next post!)
A versatile dip that works well with roasted vegetables, tofu, or burgers. This would also be great tossed with pasta or spread in a sandwich.
4 medium red peppers, roasted (you can roast them yourself or just use prepared ones), chopped
1/2 cup (120 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
4 tsp (20 ml) minced garlic
2 tsp (10 ml) dried red pepper flakes (or less, to taste)
1/2 cup (85 g) natural almonds, lightly toasted
1/4 cup (60 ml) red wine vinegar (for ACD variation, use lemon juice)
1 tsp (5 ml) sugar, or 3-5 drops stevia liquid
1/2 Granny Smith apple, peeled, cored and chopped
salt and pepper, to taste
Heat 2 Tbsp (10 ml) of the olive oil in a skillet over medium heat and add the garlic and red pepper flakes. Sauté until fragrant and lightly golden, about one minute. Remove from heat.
Place the chopped peppers in a food processor or blender (I used a food processor). Add the sautéed garlic mixture, the remaining 6 Tbsp (90 ml) olive oil, toasted almonds, vinegar (or lemon juice) and sugar (or stevia) and process to a purée. Add the chopped apple and process again until blended. (If your blender isn’t large enough to hold allt he ingredients at once, process in two batches and then stir them together in a bowl).
Transfer the dip to a bowl and season to taste with salt and pepper. Cover and refrigerate until well chilled. Makes about 2 cup (480 ml). Will keep, covered, in refrigerator up to 3 days.
[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).]
It’s astonishing to me how our tastes can change so dramatically as we age. Remember those things you loved as a kid which elicit apathy now? As a tot, I loved The Monkees. In my teens it was historical romances. In my twenties, I wore dark eye shadow and painted eyeliner across the base of my lashes. In my thirties, I dressed in black almost every day for three or four years in a row.
There’s no doubt my palate has changed over time as well. Foods I loved to eat as a child–saltwater taffy, Cap’n Crunch cereal, mellowcreme pumpkins or (a dinnertime favorite) a hillock of mashed potatoes with nuggets of hamburger cut up and hidden under it–all seem slightly repulsive to me now. Then again, many of the foods I abhored then are ones I adore today; to wit, parsnips, cilantro, and–as of two days ago–baked apples.
When I decided back in January to attempt a “cleaner” diet for a while so that I might reverse some of the holiday era choc-o-rama indulgences, I turned to a cookbook I’ve had for some time but have never really used: The Detox Cookbook and Health Plan, by Maggie Pannell. Hiding at the back, on the very last page, was a rather fetching photo of a lone baked apple, stuffed to the brim with chopped figs and walnuts.
Apple? Baked? I could feel myself recoiling, thinking, “Nawwww. . . . “ I mean, who eats baked apples? They’re granny food. They’re ulcer food. They’re nothing-else-is-in-the-house-so-I-have-to-make-do-with-this-dull-fruit food. Now, don’t get me wrong; I love raw apples and try to have one every day. But I’ve always found the concept of a baked apple to be rather meh.
Besides, apples are so common, so quotidien, so humdrum that they’re suffering from overexposure, like cupcake wedding cakes or Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons or Pamela Anderson’s cleavage. I mean, aren’t apples like the perma-date of fruits–pleasant, enjoyable, always there–but just not exciting enough to seek out for something exceptional? When I think of apples, all the old, hackneyed language comes to mind: Apple of my eye. One bad apple. An apple a day. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Apple Paltrow-Martin.
I was also flooded with memories of baked apples from my childhood, and why I never liked them back then: plain, dowdy, as wrinkled as your frowsy neighbor’s housecoat. And yet, that photo beckoned to me. I found the final push I needed when I went grocery shopping a couple of days ago: I often buy marked-down packages of apples to cut up and serve The Girls along with their regular dinner. That day, I found three packs of six apples each, at 99 cents a pack. Usually, these bargain-basement fruits and veggies sport more than a few little bruises; but these packages were perfect–smooth, rosy, unblemished; pristine. Seriously, I couldn’t find a single nick or mark on any of the apples! It was a sign.
I went home and baked these apples. The recipe was ridiculously easy, with only 4 ingredients. And while they baked, I got dinner ready and even fed The Girls (they got the unbaked fruit).
I guess my tastes have matured now that I’m an adult. I loved these–they were stupendous. I’d say these apples are like the homely, bespectacled secretary in the 1950s movie who suddenly tears off her glasses, pulls the hairpin holding her bun and shakes her head, and then–mon dieu!–she’s beautiful! I now am officially smitten with baked apples. Baked apples are my hero!
I used Gala apples (that’s what was on sale) and the outcome was perfect. The contrast between the sweet, pliable stewed figs with their popping crunch, and the perfectly creamy, tart apple flesh was delightfully unexpected. And as the glaze baked and thickened up, it acquired a deep, intense orange flavor as well as a deep caramel hue, contributing a glossy, sticky exterior glaze to the skins.
I think I’d better try to eat baked apples at least a few times a week through the winter. I plan to have them as often as I can. I mean, who knows when my tastes might change again?
Baked Apples with Figs and Walnuts in a Citrus Glaze
This is an elegant weekday dessert, that’s a comforting winter treat. And for pennies a serving, you really can’t go wrong.
4 medium firm, juicy apples, such as Gala or Granny Smith
4 dried figs (I used organic Turkish)
4 Tbsp (60 ml) walnut pieces
juice of 2 oranges
Preheat the oven to 350F (180C). Line a large square or rectangular pan with parchment, or spray with nonstick spray.
Wash and core the apples. Don’t worry if you cut right through to the bottom when you core them.
Place the apples upright in the pan, and divide the figs and walnuts evenly among them, stuffing the core area of each apple. If any fig or walnut pieces remain, scatter them on the bottom of the pan.
Pour the orange juice evenly over the apples. Cover the apples with foil (or a tight-fitting lid, if your pan has one). Bake in preheated oven 40-50 minutes, until the apples seem to be softening and the skins begin to wrinkle just a bit.
Uncover the pan and continue to bake 10-20 more minutes, basting occasionally with the juices, until the apples are soft and wrinkly and the orange juice has reduced to a thick glaze. Allow to cool 10 minutes before removing carefully from the pan and placing gingerly on a plate. Garnish with any extra fig and walnut pieces and any thick juices still in the pan. Makes 4 servings.
Okay, now on to the blog post. . .]
