[For those of you in the Toronto Area, I hope you can drop by and see me at the Vegetarian Food Fair at Harbourfront this weekend! I'll be doing a recipe demo (one of my favorite cakes from Sweet Freedom) with free samples at 12:00 noon on Sunday, September 12. Other Toronto-area foodies like Meghan Telpner and Marni Wasserman will also be on board, plus dozens of vendors and new foodie products to sample. It's a great day outside, near the lake, with yummy food and entertainment!]
After the excesses** of the recent long weekend here in Toronto, I felt the need for something more ascetic. I was craving something light, clean and (yes) green: a salad! And with the SOS Challenge for September featuring what is likely a staple in everyone’s home, I knew that my salad had to contain apple.
I got this recipe from a cookbook I’ve had for years–a decade, almost–and from which I have never cooked
One.
Single.
Thing.
It’s not that I haven’t browsed through it on many occasions, earnestly searching for something that struck my fancy. It’s not that the recipes don’t all sound good, because they do. It’s not even that I don’t have dozens of sticky notes protruding from the pages, each one flagging a different recipe I’d like to try some day. It’s just that when I read through the instructions, I immediately think that I’d prefer someone else to prepare it for me. (“We know what you mean, Mum. We prefer to have someone else prepare our food for us, too. And that someone would be you.”)
Why is it that some cookbooks become our BFFs while others languish on the bookshelf, never invited to the party and never infiltrating the inner circle of most trusted, reliable, oft consulted and well-hugged volumes? I have cookbooks the pages of which fall out every time I pull them from the shelf, they’re so well-thumbed, and then others. . . like this one. Why?
Could it be that this particular tome, Everyday Greensby Annie Somerville, is a restaurant cookbook? That is, it contains recipes from an already popular restaurant, published after that restaurant became well established. Now, I don’t know about you, but when it comes to the (few) restaurant cookbooks I’ve purchased, there seems to be a recurrent pattern. It may be that I already love the resto (as in the case of Fresh here in Toronto), or I may have heard of the chef (as with Eric Tucker from Millennium in San Francisco) or the venue itself (such as Real Food Daily in LA).
I’m sure you’ve all likely done the same thing (no? You mean it’s just me?): for whatever reason, I might find myself enchanted by the idea of re-creating food from the book, and so buy it. And then I get it home and realize that even the simplest dish–maybe, a “Yin and Yang Salad with Peanut-Sesame Dressing” or a “Revival Rice Bowl”–requires hours of advance marinating, special sauces with 47 ingredients, or a piece of equipment–a cherry-pitter, pressure cooker, bamboo steamer basket, say–that has never found its way into my kitchen. Sure, when you’re running a professional operation, there are big vats of sauces, garnishes and other staples all mixed up long before the day even begins. But here at home, everything must be put together by a single pair of hands, one at a time.
I guess that’s why I liked this salad. Despite the need for a bit of advance prep (you have to roast the beets beforehand and, if you’re using homemade nut cheese, make it first), the salad comes together very quickly and easily. It combines the liver-loving properties of beets with equally healthful apples (for all the info on the forbidden fruit, see the SOS kickoff post for this month). Add to that the detoxifying properties of dandelion, and you’ve got one mega healthy plate of produce.
I did make a couple of changes to the original here by using dandelion instead of salad greens (which we didn’t have). But I think the bitterness of the greens offers a perfect foil for the softly caramelized beets and the crunchy-tart apple slices; it all comes together harmoniously topped with salty, smooth feta. The dressing is a sweet and tart affair that even uses part of the apple, blended, for thickness and flavor.
With its combination of crunchy raw greens and baked root vegetable, this salad effectively straddles the transition from summer to fall. And with that, it might help make my own transition to the cooler season a little less painful, too. And who knows? I might, one day, end up making something else from this cookbook.
** the term “excesses” being relative, of course. It used to mean drinking an entire bottle of champagne by myself. These days, it means eating two (ACD friendly, low glycemic) brownies in one weekend. I am such a rebel!
Salad Greens with Apples, Beets and Almond Feta(suitable for ACD Stage 2 and beyond)
Though it requires a bit of preparation beforehand, once the beets are done, this salad comes together very quickly. Feel free to switch up the greens for mesclun mix or other bitters such as arugula in place of the dandelion.
For the salad:
1 head romaine, washed. dried and torn into bite-sized pieces
half a bunch of dandelion (or other bitter) greens, washed, dried and torn into bite-sized pieces (omit any thick stems; you can save those for stock)
1 large crisp apple (I used Granny Smith)
For the Cider Vinaigrette
2 large beets, roasted, cooled, peeled and cut into wedges
salt and pepper to taste
1/2 batch of prepared Almond Feta, chilled and crumbled (or use your favorite flavorful cheese)
Place greens in a large bowl and set aside.
Cut the apple into quarters and remove the core. Reserve one quarter for the vinaigrette and slice the rest into thin slices; add the slices to the bowl with the greens.
Prepare the vinaigrette (see below). Toss the beets with about 1 Tbsp (15 ml) of the vinaigrette in a small bowl and set aside.
Pour the remaining vinaigrette over the greens and apple slices and toss to coat everything well. Separate the mixture onto individual plates; tuck the beets here and there between the leaves, then sprinkle the cheese over all. Serve immediately. Makes 4 servings.
For the Vinaigrette:
1/4 apple (from the apple in the salad, above), cored and chopped
2 Tbsp (30 ml) unfiltered apple cider vinegar
1 Tbsp (15 ml) freshly squeezed lemon juice
5 drops plain stevia liquid, or 1 tsp agave nectar
1/4 tsp (1 ml) fine sea salt
3 Tbsp (45 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
Place all ingredients in a blender or use a hand blender and puré until smooth. Use with the beets and salad, above.
[Ah, if only I were truly still enjoying my salad days . . . in reality, I am firmly ensconced smack-dab in the middle of my "main course" days. But you can enjoy this salad at any age!]
Now that summer is undeniably underway in these parts (nothing spells “summer” quite like a week of temperatures soaring beyond 33C/92F), heavy duty cooking and baking seem so. . . unnecessary. I find myself yearning for more raw foods, more fresh foods, and fewer baked goods at the moment (though ice cream cravings do still “scream” rather loudly).
A heatwave such as we endured last week always takes me back to the first year the HH and I lived together, in a miniscule bungalow in the east end of town bordering Scarborough. Not the best neighborhood (there was a murder around the corner from our place, after which I never walked on that street again), the house was, nevertheless, the best we could afford at the time.
Our home was a post-war structure, so tiny it effectively impersonated one of those Fischer Price dollhouses (sans a live toddler, of course). The living room was replete with dusty rose Pier One loveseat and 27 year-old console television, with no room for much else; the bathroom was so narrow that you had to turn sideways to brush your teeth; and the master bedroom, located directly above the (uninsulated) front porch, was an icebox in winter and veritable kiln in summer.
Now, if you’ve ever been to Toronto in the summertime, you will likely remember one important characteristic about this city. No, it’s not the CN tower (no longer the tallest freestanding structure in the world). No, it’s not Toronto’s reputation as the most multicultural city in the world (even though it is). Not the fact that, for a couple of wild nights in June, 2010, its denizens blushed as the city lost its unofficial title of ”Most Polite Metropolis in North America.” And not even that Jim Carrey, Mike Meyers, Alanis Morissette, Eric McCormack, Howie Mandel and Rachel McAdams all hail from here, either.
[No air conditioning? This salad will cool you down on those 30C days!]
Nope, the most prominent feature of summertime in Toronto is the all encompassing, overwhelming, whacks-you-in-the-face-the-instant-you-exit-the-air-conditioning, humidity. And as it happened during that first summer in our shoebox abode, the city suffered one of its hottest seasons in decades. With no air conditioning in the house, we were forced to rely on that age-old standard, the electric fan.
Here’s the scene: it’s 11:30 PM, and the temperature is still hovering around 30C (86F), 40C with the humidex. At the foot of the queen-sized futon (which on its own nearly fills the room) sits a dresser on which is perched two fans, one trained on me, one on the HH. In addition, a ceiling fan spins at high speed through the night, slightly off balance and wobbling like a magician’s spinning plate trick. To complete the fan club*, a free-standing fan is positioned on the floor off to the side so it sweeps across our bed every ten seconds or so. We settle down for the night.
But we don’t sleep. Even with our own little self-constructed Jet Stream, we endured a hellish, fitful seven hours, tossing and turning and perspiring so much that by morning our bed was practically transformed into a private indoor wading pool. (Okay, I exaggerate–but just a little. The upside, I suppose, is that I lost 2 pounds that night).
Happily, our current rental home came equipped with A/C, and, despite any residual guilt about the environment or the increased costs in summer (further enhanced this year by the lovely HST), we are glad we can use it when the humidex reaches 43C (110F), as it did last week. And The Girls appreciate it, too.
“Yes, Mum, we do appreciate it. And since we have no sweat glands, it’s especially nice to be able to inhale that cool air from the vents and pant to lower our body temperatures. We like swimming, too–just don’t put us anywhere near that ’pool’ you just mentioned. Gross!”
This type of heat leads to lethargy; add to that my marking-induced stupor and I just haven’t felt like cooking.
Enter salads!
Since we’ve been eating salad almost exclusively throughout the past week, I thought I’d highlight a few of my very favorites over the next few days. To begin, today’s installment is a long-time standard from my friend and colleague Caroline Dupont’s cookbook. Ever since I attended Caroline’s raw cooking classes back in nutrition school, I’ve loved this salad , a staple in our house over the warmer months. I can’t believe I haven’t posted it before this!
The lively mélange of colorful, fresh and crispy vegetables and fruit marries beautifully with the slightly sweet and tart dressing. Although I’m not a fan of fresh fennel, the ground fennel in this dressing adds just the perfect whisper of licorice to complement the juicy sweetness of the apples. Every mouthful offers up a different parade of colors, flavors and textures to treat your palate to some first-class, sparkly raw gustatory entertainment (and a whole rainbow of antioxidants and healthy fats to boot). And it’s ready in around 10 minutes–without heat or any real physical exertion (except for the chewing–of which there will be quite a bit, I wager).
The original recipe calls for raisins (I included them in the photo, which was the HH’s serving), and feel free to use them if you’re not following an anti-candida diet (which would be, um, the other 99.9% of you out there?). For those of us restricted to candida-busting regimens, there’s an ACD-friendly variation following.
* Sorry. I had to.
Today’s Question: What’s your favorite cooling meal in summer?
* * * * * * * * * *
Fruity Slaw (aka Cabbage Delight) for ACD Phase I & Beyond
2 cups (480 ml) green or red cabbage, shredded, or a combination
3/4 cup (180 ml) broccoli or cauliflower, chopped
1/4 cup (60 ml) sweet onion, chopped
1 rib celery, diced
1 large carrot, grated
1/2 cup (120 ml) fresh parsley, chopped
1 medium apple (I used Crispin), cored and diced
1/2 cup (120 ml) raisins or currants, optional
1/2 cup (120 ml) pecans or walnuts, lightly toasted
In a large bowl, combine dressing ingredients and whisk to combine. Add vegetables and toss to coat. Sprinkle with raisins and walnuts. Makes 4-6 servings. Will keep, covered in the refrigerator, up to 3 days.
*For ACD Stage 1, substitute fresh lemon juice for the apple cider vinegar and 5-8 drops plain liquid stevia for the agave. If you’re not having fruit, omit the raisins and apple , and sub grape tomatoes, if desired.
[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).]
[With Collards, Chard and Red Onion]
It’s been a truly crazy past week, what with our new semester starting up today at the college and my cookbook deadline being perilously close.* (And let’s not forget the Golden Globes from last evening–didn’t B & A look marvelous amidst the hubub and Moet & Chandon? And did you hear that Tracy Morgan is the new face of the US? But Mamma Mia, that Ms. Streep is timeless! ) With all that, there’s been no time for handiwork in the kitchen.
Instead, here’s what I’ve been eating lately–and by “lately,” I mean pretty much every day. I’ve made this three times in the past six days: it’s quick, it’s easy, it’s delicious and it contains nature’s most nutritious vegetables, leafy greens. And with all the deepbrowns, ochres, ambers and ecrus I’ve been consuming over the past few weeks, I figured it was time for some green.
[With Collards and Yellow Onion]
Besides, I adore leafy greens and have been trying to include them in my diet more often. Jagged, zippy dandelion greens are like the tough kid in the schoolyard, the punk who wears his black leather jacket like a trophy and loiters in the corner of the schoolyard chain-smoking. With a hard and bitter exterior, he’s really a sweetheart once you get to know him. Collards, with their elegant, frond-like shape, are the modern jazz dancers of the group, deftly swaying side to side as they harmoniously meld the delicate and the cacophonous. And kale, my very favorite, is the ditzy neighbour, the plucky, perky best friend, the Mary Richards of leafy greens; she fidgets and bobs and sighs histrionically, clad in her ruffly collar and matching cuffs–she’s a little wacky, maybe, but always honest and reliable. How could you not love greens?
This dish was created when I had intended to try out a recipe for brussels sprouts and apples I read about on Vegalicious a while back. When I discovered I had no sprouts, I opted for the greens instead (heck, they’re all brassicas, right?). Using the other recipe for inspiration, I threw this together. It was ready in ten minutes, and I was left to marvel that something so simple could taste so good.
The barely-wilted greens are chewy and toothsome, while the apples and onions, having softened and caramelized slightly, provide a balancing sweetness to the slightly bitter leaves. The addition of lemon juice here, besides imparting an appealing tang, renders the minerals in the vegetables more bio-available (and thereby more easily absorbed) so you can best benefit from their high mineral content.
* As to the cookbook, right now, it looks as if the publication date will be mid-April; I’ll report back as soon as I’m given a “firm” date from the publisher. What this means, however, is that my blogging may become slightly more sporadic over the next few weeks, as will my commenting on other blogs. But know that I’ll keep reading and enjoying all of your blogs even if I don’t make my presence known. And I do hope that you will still comment here–I always look forward to, and read, every single comment on this site–it is truly a high point in my day!
Perfect as a quick weekday side dish or a great lunch main, this recipe comes together in no time an is infinitely adaptable: for a main course, add cubed tofu or lgihtly toasted nuts or seeds. A few raisins or currants tossed in would also work well. And feel free to switch up the greens or combine several types for equally good results.
1 large bunch collard greens, chad, kale or a combination
1 medium red or yellow onion, cut in half and sliced thinly
2 Tbsp. (30 ml.) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
1-3 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1 large sweet apple (I used Gala),washed, cored, cut in eighths and sliced
1-2 tsp. (5-10 ml.) apple cider vinegar
juice of 1/2 lemon
salt and pepper, to taste
Wash and dry the greens and remove any thick stems. Stack the leaves in batches, roll up along the long side, then cut across the roll into slices, creating thin strips. Set aside.
Heat the olive oil over medium-high heat in frypan and add the onion; sauté until the onion begins to soften and turn translucent, about 4 minutes. Add the garlic and apple slices and continue to sauté until the apples begin to soften, another 2-3 minutes. Add the greens, vinegar, lemon juice, and salt and pepper. Toss briefly to coat the greens, then cover and allow the steam to wilt the greens, about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally. Serve immediately. Makes 4 side dish or 2 main course servings.
As I mentioned in a previous post, the CFO came to visit over the holidays, and we had a truly lovely time together, chillaxing (I can’t understand why that word has evaporated from the lexicon. I mean, it just seems to capture so perfectly the concept its meant to convey), laughing, watching movies*, laughing, shopping, playing with The Girls, laughing, and eating far, far too much. I’m happy to say that my sister also bonded with both of our furry babies, who have been wandering aimlessly around the house since she left this morning.
(“Mum, what do you mean, ‘she left’? Doesn’t she live with us now? Where did she go? And, um, who will rub my belly tonight?”)
It does seem like ages since I’ve written on this blog, when in fact, it’s been just a few days. I’m just fascinated by the science fiction-like relative quality of time at the holidays: the space-time continuum stretches infinitely as you wait for the Big Day (or Days, depending on your belief system); then, like the Big Bang, it’s over in a flash.
Not to belabor the physics theme or anything, but I think my stomach has taken over the role of a black hole this holiday season. Truly, I didn’t know it was possible that so much food could be sucked into that abyss in so short a span. Ah, if only time could stretch as infinitely as my appetite (and if only the waistband on my pants could do the same. . . ).
Ah, what the heck, it’s the holidays. While the CFO was here , in effect, we enjoyed two major feast meals: the first on Christmas Day, a semi-traditional repast that blended the Judeo-Christian cuisines; then, the following night, an Indian-themed feast, because we felt like it.
Although neither my sister nor the HH is vegan (or even vegetarian), the bulk of the menu accommodated my dietary restrictions, so that we could all enjoy freely. And despite much good-natured ribbing in both directions (the CFO pooh-poohed almost every recipe I suggested on the grounds it was “too Veeee-gan”, while I countered by calling her a “rabid anti-Veegite“), it was the dish about which she was most skeptical, the wheat-free, egg-free, dairy-free pumpkin bread pudding, that turned out to be the star of the show.
For the holiday meal, I relied on several tried-and-true recipes such as herb-roasted root vegetables, balsamic-dijon brussels sprouts and roast on the 25th, plus (in keeping with the Hannukah theme I started with those latkes the other day) an apple-noodle pudding (or kugel). Even though this was a sweet kugel and more of what I’d consider a dessert, it did work well with the other dishes, offering a bit of luscious creaminess punctuated by tart cherries, along with the similar sweet-tart contrast in the brussels sprouts. In fact, this noodle pudding would be perfect for breakfast, I’d venture.
[Apple-Noodle Pudding with Tart Dried Cherries]
The bread pudding my sister so loved began with a pumpkin bread (recipe from Simple Treats), soaked in a pumpkin “custard” based on the mixture I used in my French Toast Soufflé. I baked the puddings in individual ramekins, but you could easily do a single pudding in a loaf or square pan and scoop it from there. I topped the puddings with a homemade caramel sauce–a concoction based on a sweetened condensed milk experiment that went awry–that I’d kept warm.
[A bite of pumpkiny-caramelly bliss.]
The result was spectacular–warm, slightly crisp on the outside but moist and spongy on the inside, über-pumpkiny, slightly spiced, and with the smooth, glossy thickness of warm caramel blanketing the whole affair. This is a chic, stylish dessert, yet one that was really simple in its preparation.
The next night, though still full from the Christmas dinner, we managed an incredible follow-up with an Indian feast that, we decided, will go down in the annals of Most Memorable Meals in the DDD household.
The menu included a lentil dal recipe I first saw about a week ago on Lisa’s blog; peas in a creamy sauce (adapted from a recipe I once borrowed from Gemini I); an aloo saag (well, not really–I just don’t know the word for “kale”) that combined potatoes and shredded kale in a spicy tomato sauce; coconut brown basmati rice; and homemade chickpea pancakes from Meena Pathak’s Indian Cooking for Family and Friends. I can tell you, there was a symphony of lip-smacking, lentil scooping, potato spooning, and sauce sopping going on, as well as a mellifluous refrain of friendly chatter and wine-glass clinking that evening. Very chillaxing.
I promise to share the goodies from our Indian feast in a future post, but rather than inundate you with so many recipes at once, I thought I’d start off with the lovely Apple Noodle Pudding with Tart Dried Cherries. This alone would make a great light mid-week supper–and I, for one, could certainly use some lighter meals these days.
Also: I’m a little late jumping on this bandwagon, but wanted to mention a charity drive put on by Katie over at Chocolate Covered Vegan. In honor of the season, Katie is offering to donate 20 cents to the Enough Project (an organization that works to counter crimes against humanity) for every comment she receives on this post. How sweet is that? It’s incredibly easy to help out this way–just hop on over and leave a comment!
*Christmas Day: that classic chestnut, White Christmas. The CFO and I, while sisters ourselves, bear no resemblance to either Rosemary Clooney or Vera-Ellen (well, perhaps my wrist bears a resemblance to Vera-Ellen’s waist).
Boxing Day: taking advantage of the nearly-empty theaters, Seven Pounds. What I learned from watching this movie: 1) Will Smith is (still) preternaturally gorgeous; 2) Will Smith is an extraordinarily talented actor; 3) that is one whacked reason to keep a jellfish as a pet.
Yesterday:The Dark Knight. I agree that Heath Ledger deserved an Oscar for his performance. Not only that, but also a Nobel Prize in Chemistry for being able to unravel the convoluted structure of the multi-pronged plot in this movie. (Okay, perhaps a not-entirely fair assessment on my part, as I couldn’t bring myself to watch the violent scenes. Which means I missed about 94% of the movie.)
Apple Noodle Pudding with Tart Dried Cherries
Unfortunately, I can’t recall the original source of this recipe, which I copied from a magazine several years ago in the BB (Before Blog) era of my life. Nevertheless, I’ve added several elements and changed others over the years, so I consider this my own variation on the original.
4 ounces (about 120 grams) long noodles (fettucine, linguine, spaghetti, etc.–I use kamut linguine; for a GF option, use gluten-free noodles)
1 large or 2 small tart apples (such as Granny Smith) washed, cored and grated fine (you can leave the skin on)
1/3 cup (80 ml.) dried tart cherries, cranberries, or raisins
1/3 cup (80 ml.) natural raw almonds
1/4 cup (60 ml.) natural raw cashews
1 pkg. (about 12 ounces or 375 g.) aseptically-packaged, firm silken tofu (I use Mori-Nu)
1/4 cup (60 ml.) agave nectar, light or dark
2 tsp. (10 ml.) cinnamon
1/2 tsp. (2.5 ml.) ground ginger
pinch cardamom
1/8 tsp. (.5 ml.) fine sea salt
1/2 tsp. (2.5 ml.) pure almond extract
1 tsp. (5 ml.) pure vanilla extract
Preheat oven to 350F (180C). Line a 9 inch (22.5 cm.) square pan with parchment, or spray with nonstick spray.
In a large pot, boil the noodles according to package directions and drain. Place the drained noodles in a large bowl and toss with the grated apple, cherries, and pecans.
In the bowl of a food processor, blend the almonds and cashews until they resemble a fine meal (take care not to over-blend, however, or you’ll end up with nut butter). Add the tofu, agave, cinnamon, ginger, cardamon, salt, almond extract and vanilla and process gain until the mixture is smooth.
Pour the tofu mixture over the noodle mixture in the bowl and stir well to blend and distribute the tofu mixture throughout. Pour into the prepared pan and spread evenly, smoothing the top.
Bake in preheated oven about 50 minutes, rotating once about halfway through, until golden brown on top. Serve warm or at room temperature. Makes four brunch servings or 9 dessert servings. May be frozen.
One of the shared quirks of most Canadians is our propensity to focus on the weather (well, that, and our internationally-recognized, world-renowned politeness. Oh, but please do excuse me for interrupting that train of thought with a parenthesis–how very rude! I do apologize).
We tend to talk about the weather, attempt to predict the weather, fume about the weather, complain vociferously about the weather, aim to forestall the weather, dread the weather, boast about surviving the weather, try desperately to ignore the weather, occasionally (like two days a year) rejoice at the weather, discuss and ponder and ruminate about the weather. . . basically, we are obsessed by the weather. Why?
Well, I suppose, it has something to do with our ancestors and early settlers whose lives really were ruled by the vagaries of snow, sleet and wind, or the whims of Mother Nature–one false move in January in Peterborough, and you ended up dead. These days, of course, we’ve got heating and insulation during the winter months, but it seems we’ve inherited the predilection to stress about the weather all year round.
This past weekend, for instance, the air was gloriously warm but maddeningly humid. Now, why couldn’t we simply combine the temperatures with the sunshine of a crisp February morning, and call it a summer’s day? I’m really a warm-weather gal, despite my lack of any athletic or outdoorsy skills or prowess. I am happy to sit outside in the back yard, read a book or magazine, or simply watch The Girls wrestle on the grass when the weather is felicitous.
When people first find out that I was born and raised in Montreal, they inevitably comment, “Oh, well, then, you MUST be a skier, right, with all that snow you get over there?” Sadly, no. I do not ski. I do not skate. I do not snowmobile on a lake. I do not like the snow on ground, I do not like it where it’s found. I do not like the cold or snow–I do not like it, I wish it would GO. (Ah, yes, once again, I must apologize for going off on a rant. And to Dr. Seuss, too, of course.)
Now that fall has almost arrived, the climate is beginning to evoke thoughts of cosy sweaters, fuzzy blankets, knees tucked up before the fireplace. When we take The Girls for their walks along the trails, the barren trees on either side of the paths span above our heads, branches reaching across to touch each other as if holding hands. Carpets of brown, red, and orange leaves crinkle below our feet as we stroll along. There is, I must admit, something rather appealing about it all. In addition, autumn is the harbinger of Holiday Season–for some, as early as the end of the month.
The other day, my friend Eternal Optimist asked about recipes for Rosh Hashanah. The Jewish New Year falls on September 28th this year, and she was looking for new recipes for baked goods, as her son recently became vegan and most of her current recipes contain eggs and dairy. I thought about the traditional Rosh Hashanah recipes focusing on apples and honey, and remembered a cake my mom used to bake when we were kids. The recipe was from a Mazola Corn Oil recipe card, and (along with a hefty portion of corn oil) featured both apples and honey in a huge bundt cake embracing thinly sliced Macintoshes between layers of fragrant, moist honey cake, so that it kind of resembled a cross-section of the Canadian Shield when cut, the strata of golden, caramelized fruit nestled between tender, tawny cake. Well, of course, once I thought of it, I simply had to re-create that cake.
I couldn’t find my mum’s recipe, so I made one up based on a vanilla cake I created a few years ago, adding brown rice syrup as a stand-in for honey, paired with cinnamon and Sucanat-dusted apples. Here, then, is my version of the childhood favorite. This cake is perfect for any holiday celebration, as it could easily serve a crowd. It’s not overly fancy, so if you’d like to dress it up a bit, glaze it with your favorite glaze or dust with confectioner’s sugar, if you choose. The fruit filling is generous and bountiful, just like the harvest in autumn, and might even make you forget the cloudy, stormy, chilly air outside while you indulge.
Since this cake was based on one my mom used to make, I’m submitting it to the “Making History” event hosted by Allan at Recovered Recipes. The event asks you to find (and photograph) an old recipe card and post the outcome of the recipe. My version of the old recipe is one that my mom used to make, which I found in a handwritten baking book:
[Yep, that's an old recipe, all right. . . ]
And here’s the updated version!
Holiday Apple Bundt Cake
I’ve been known to enjoy a slice of this for breakfast–add a handful of nuts and really, isn’t that a balanced meal?
4 1/2-5 cups (1 liter to 1200 ml.) very thin apple slices (from about 4 large peeled and cored apples–or leave the peel on, if you prefer; I used a combination of Gala and Granny Smith, as that’s what we had)
1/4 cup ( g.) Sucanat
1 Tbsp. (15 ml.) cinnamon
1/2 cup (120 ml.) light agave nectar
1/4 cup (60 ml.) brown rice syrup
1/3 cup (80 ml.) sunflower or other light-tasting oil, preferably organic
3/4 cup (180 ml.) plain or vanilla soymilk or almond milk
1 Tbsp. (15 ml.) pure vanilla extract
1/2 tsp. (2.5 ml.) pure lemon extract
2 tsp. (10 ml.) apple cider vinegar
2 tsp. (10 ml.) finely ground chia seeds (Salba)
1-1/2 cups (215 g.) light spelt flour
3/4 cup (90 g.) whole barley flour
1 Tbsp. (15 ml.) baking powder
1 tsp. (5 ml.) baking soda
1/2 tsp. (2.5 ml.) sea salt
Preheat oven to 350F (180 C). Grease a large bundt pan with coconut oil, or spray with nonstick spray.
In a large bowl, toss the apple slices with the sucanat and cinnamon; set aside.
In a medium bowl, whisk together the agave, rice syrup, oil, soymilk, vanilla, lemon extract, apple cider vinegar, and chia seeds until smooth. Ensure that there are no little lumps of chia seeds remaining. Set aside while you measure the dry ingredients, or at least 2 minutes.
In another large bowl, sift together the spelt flour, barley flour, baking powder, baking soda and sea salt. Pour the liquid mixture over the dry ingredients and stir to combine. Don’t worry if a few dry spots remain here or there.
Spread about 1/3 of the batter in the bottom of the pan (this doesn’t have to be exact; just estimate). Next, take about half the apples and layer them over the batter in the pan, taking care not to touch the sides of the pan (it’s not a tragedy if they do; it will just make it a bit more difficult to get the baked cake out of the pan later on). Using a tablespoon, dot the apples with another 1/3 of the batter. Use a rubber spatula to spread the batter over the apples, covering them entirely if you can. Use up the apples to top the batter with another layer of apple slices. Finally, use the tablespoon to cover the apples with the final third of batter, and spread the batter across the apples as evenly as possible with a rubber spatula. There should be mostly batter on top, but it’s okay if a few edges of apple stick out here or there.
Bake the cake in the preheated oven for 50 minutes to an hour, rotating the pan once about halfway through, until a tester comes out clean when placed halways between the two sides of the pan at any point. The top of the cake should be domed and browned.
Allow the cake to cool for at least 10 minutes in the pan before inverting onto a serving plate or cooling rack. Cool completely before slicing. Makes about 24 small servings or 12 large servings. May be frozen.
[This recipe will also appear in my upcoming cookbook, Sweet Freedom, along with more than 100 others, most of which are not featured on this blog. For more information, check the "Cookbook" button at right, or visit the cookbook blog.]
As you may have noticed, I love blogging. When something prevents me from engaging in my (almost) daily trio of cooking, eating, and writing about it, I feel a bit deprived. The strangest triggers will spark a barrage of blogging ideas, and then I’m off.
One of the greatest side effects of blogging is that it encourages you to try new recipes. After all, how can you blog about a novel, interesting dish every few days if you eat the selfsame foods day after day?
Still, there’s a certain built-in sense of loss in this pattern. Often, I’ll find a recipe that’s simply spectacular, and the HH and I will devour it with great gusto and appreciation. Then I’ll be struck with a sense of melancholy at the knowledge that I’ll likely never cook that dish again, because I must move on to the next one on my ever-expanding list. It’s somewhat akin to taking a long, boring flight on a business trip and experiencing the serendipitous joy of encountering a soul-mate as a seat-mate; you chat for a while, a connection is made, you open up about your work, you drink three or six of those itty bitty booze bottles of vodka, you spill all about your most intimate relationships. . . and then, as the plane lands, you exchange contact information and bid each other goodbye, knowing full well you’ll never share time wtih that particular individual ever again.
Well, eating this salad was sort of like that. Except minus the alcohol.
Ever since I received my March issue of Vegetarian Timesin the mail, I found myself repeatedly eyeing the page with this brilliantly-colored, fresh-faced salad on it. It doesn’t hurt that Thai food is one of my favorite cuisines, and that I’ve had green papaya salad many a time (and love it). The magazine presented a vegan version, and one that’s ready in a snap (in fact, I almost offered this as a Flash in the Pan recipe, but it’s just a hair’s breadth too complicated)–well, how could I resist? I had to have it. And so, my friends, I did. And I can only say–hurray! Spring is finally here!
The visual mimicry of green papaya using fresh Granny Smith apples is a touch of brilliance in this salad. And while the apples don’t really taste like papaya–a little too crisp, a little too sweet–they stand on their own as a tangy, fresh first course that’s hard to resist. I made a half recipe (which was supposed to feed four), and the HH and I polished this off between the two of us, even before the main course.
I’ve decided to submit this entry to the new blog event, Bookmarked Recipes, which asks that you prepare and then blog about a recipe you’ve saved from another blog, a book, or a magazine. It’s hosted by Ruth over at Kitchen Experiments. Check for a roundup every Monday.
Mock Green Papaya Salad
from Vegetarian Times, March 2008
This salad comes together incredibly quickly, and makes a fabulous first course that would complement almost any meal. If you prefer, just make this the meal on its own!
6 Granny Smith apples, peeled and grated (6 cups)
[NOTE: I didn't peel the apples; the skin provides both color and fiber, so why get rid of it? I also used a food processor with a "medium" blade to grate the fruit, but of course a regular grater or mandoline would do nicely. If you use a box grater, peeling first may be the easier option]
1/4 cup (60 ml.) plus 2 Tbsp. (30 ml.) freshly squeezed lime juice, divided
1 bunch (about 5) green onions, trimmed and sliced
2 cloves garlic, minced (about 2 tsp. or 10 ml.)
2 tsp. (10 ml.) soy sauce [I used tamari]
1 tsp. (5 ml.) chili paste, such as sambal oelek
1 cup (250 ml.) cherry or grape tomatoes, cut in half
about 6 cups (1500 ml.) watercress or arugula [I used organic baby salad greens]
Toss the grated apple with 2 Tbsp. lime juice in a large bowl to keep from browning. Stir in green onions.
Whisk together remaining lime juice, garlic, soy sauce, and chili paste in a small bowl. Pour over the grated apples and toss to combine. Stir in cherry tomatoes and serve over greens. Makes 8 servings. [May be halved.]
Nutritional info (courtesy of the magazine): Per serving: 61 calories; 1 g. protein; less than 1 g. total fat (yippee!) and 0 g. saturated fat; 16 g. carbs; 0 mg. cholesterol; 64 mg. sodium; 2 g. fiber; 11 g. sugars.
In the halcyon days of our relationship, when my HH and I were still in early stages of romantic life, I was sideswiped with a doozy of a diagnosis that caused me to change my diet drastically for what turned out to be quite a long time.
Still fiercely besotted back then, my HH was perfectly willing to accommodate my strange and singular dietary restrictions: no sugar, no wheat, no eggs, no dairy, no anything fermented (which included my half of those bottles of wine we’d grown accustomed to consuming with dinner), no caffeine, and on and on—for about three more paragraphs.
As a couple who habitually dined out 2 or 3 times a week plus brunch on Sundays (one advantage of meeting when we were too old for kids is the increased discretionary spending), this new diet forced us to alter our regular routine, um, considerably.All this, and my HH was still happy to comply, and even join me as I consumed cooked amaranth and tahini, tamari-marinated tofu, kamut pasta sprinkled with nutritional yeast, kale and arame salad, and every other manner of organic, whole, vegan foodstuff.
Yes, for a time, life was good in the DDD household.
After a couple of years of this regime, however, the cracks began to appear.I detected quiet rumblings of protest, as when I’d serve up my favorite tofu-veggie stir fry in almond-curry sauce:“What?” my HH would say.“This, again?” He’d eat it, but he wasn’t happy.
Soon, he imposed a veto on seaweed (unless, of course, it was wrapped around a hunk of raw eel or salmon at his favorite sushi bar). “It’s actually kinda slimy and gross when it’s marinated like that,” he’d remark of my kale and seaweed salad. Next, he tired of tofu. “That tofu stir-fry was okay at first,” he admitted, “But I think I’m maxed out on tofu for a while.” Before I knew it, he was once again craving caffeine.Up came the coffee maker from the basement, where it had been relegated for over a year, amid the piles of as-yet unpacked boxes from our previous house-move.
Almost imperceptibly, more changes took place.Stealthy, small cartons of half-and-half cream began to make their way back into our fridge. At first, they lay low at the back, behind the cartons of soymilk; later on, they declared their presence boldly, at the very forefront of the shelves. Eventually, there came the final affront: last year, the HH rekindled his mania for meat. No more pasta with veggies and walnuts for dinner, no sir; from now on, he wanted steak.
Well, what’s a vegan-loving gal to do when her HH suddenly reverts to his Neanderthal, bachelor appetites (for foods, that is)? These days, most of the time our dinner table is graced with a dual repast: a vegan main course for me, which cheerfully serves double duty as a side for him, nestled next to his hunk of animal protein. I love the guy, and he cooks his own meat, so I can live with it.
(“Steak ? Did someone say ‘steak’? But Mum, we think you should be the one to cook it. Dad never gives us as many leftovers as you do. . . oh. Sorry to interrupt.”)
This past weekend, however, I decided to whip up a tofu omelette for myself for brunch. I also thought it would be the perfect contribution to Nandita’s Weekend Breakfast Blogging event, this month hosted by Rajitha at Hunger Pangs.
I’d been reading about these omelettes ever since coming across Cozy Inside, Joni Marie Newman’s blog for her cookbook of the same name (which I promptly ordered after reading the recipe). I also found a great recipe for a tofu omelette on Fat Free Vegan Kitchen’s page, which was subsequently extolled by Don’t Get Mad, Get Vegan . And Vegan Ronin served up her own version back in 2006.
I had tried both the Cozy Insideand Fat Free Vegan Kitchen omelettes and enjoyed them immensely. This morning, however, I was aiming for something a little richer and a little more gussied up, something I could serve to friends as the centerpiece of a brunch buffet.So, using these three for inspiration, I played with the various elements of the recipes and devised my own concoction.
An old recipe for a regular, egg-based omelette that had always intrigued me since I first read about it years ago is a sweet version, with an apple-cinnamon filling. So that the flavors in the base wouldn’t clash with the sweetness of the filling, I decided to make the omelette itself as plain as possible, omitting any strong seasonings such as garlic, paprika, or chopped veggies.
While cooking it up (and as you’ll see, the process is surprisingly easy), it still felt as if the dish needed something more than just apples to finish it off properly. I remembered a curried cream sauce I’d created to pour over broccoli raab, as a slightly sweet contrast to the bitterness of the greens.I thought that would be the perfect accesory for this omelette, and stirred some up while the apples cooked.The final product was a delicious and filling brunch.
Once everything was completed and plated, I tentatively asked the HH if he’d be willing to taste it.
Surprise number one: “Sure,” he said. He took a big forkful.
Surprise number two:“This is delicious!” he proclaimed, and then: “Can I have half?” Well, I’ve never been so happy to share.
With great enthusiasm, he proceeded to eat it all, and practically lick the knife clean. Perhaps the tofu embargo has come to an end.
Yep, love never ceases to amaze me.
Tofu Omelette with Sauteed Apples and Sweet Curry Cream Sauce
For the Sauce:
1/2 cup (125 ml.) smooth cashew butter
1/4-1/2 tsp. (1-2.5 ml.) mild curry powder
pinch cinnamon
2 Tbsp. rice milk (this adds a bit of natural sweetness to the sauce)
For the Filling:
1 large apple (I used Gala), cored and cut into half-moon slices
2 tsp. organic coconut butter or sunflower oil
dash of cinnamon
For the omelette:
1 pound (about 500 g.) firm or extra-firm block of tofu (not the kind packed in water)
1/4 cup (about 60 ml.) nutritional yeast
3/4 cup (about 185 ml.) plain, unflavored soymilk
3 Tbsp. (45 ml.) potato starch
1 tsp. (5 ml.) onion powder (not salt)
1 tsp. (5 ml.) turmeric
2 Tbsp. (30 ml.) extra virgin olive oil
1 Tbsp. (15 ml.) almond butter or cashew butter
salt, to taste
Make the sauce:
In a small heavy-bottomed pot, heat blend all ingredients together and heat over low heat until the mixture is smooth and homogenous. Cover and keep warm while you prepare the rest of the omelette.
Make the filling next:
Melt the coconut butter in a medium frypan over medium heat. Saute the apple slices until soft and starting to caramelize, about 10 minutes. While they are cooking, prepare the omelettes.
Prepare the omelettes:
In a food processor, blend the tofu and soymilk until it reaches a fairly smooth consistency. Add the remaining ingredients and process again until very smooth. This should be a thick batter, the consitency of a muffin batter. (If the mixture is too thin, the omelette won’t hold together. If it’s too thin, add about 1 Tbsp. of spelt or other flour at a time, up to 4 Tbsp., until it reaches the correct consistency).
Heat a small non-stick frypan over medium heat. Add about 1/4 of the omelette batter at a time, and smooth it evenly in the pan. Allow to cook for about 5-8 minutes, until the colour changes (it will become more yellow as it cooks) and the top appears dry. Flip the omelette (Joni provides a neat trick to do this effectively here) and cook the other side for another 4-6 minutes, until light golden. Repeat with other 3 omelettes.
Fill omelettes with apple slices, fold over the slices, then top with some Sweet Curry Sauce. Serve and enjoy! Makes 4 substantial omelettes.
