Diet, Dessert and Dogs

[Update, April 15, 2010:  Did you know that Ellen Degeneres has read my cookbook?? Waaa-hooo!  I could not be more thrilled, especially since I'm sure she noticed because of our EL-LENd Me a Hand campaign!! THANK YOU a million times to everyone who has been participating so far!  Now I'm more determined than ever to bring healthy, vegan sweets to The Ellen Show--so let's keep at it!  To see how you can help (and win a free cookbook), please check this page.  Yee-haw!!   ]

I. Relationships: You win some, you lose some.

After my marriage to the Starter Husband imploded, I wasn’t much in the mood for dating (actually, that’s quite the litotes: I didn’t even attempt another date for about 4-1/2 years).  When I finally did feel ready to dip my toes into the relationship sea (where there are, after all, plenty of fish), seems the guys weren’t quite ready for me.  After signing up for an online dating service, answering dozens of newspaper personal ads (do those even still exist?), welcoming every fix up that friends offered to arrange, or accepting any and every blind date (including one guy who was, literally, a blind date), I still found myself single, unattached, solo, solitary, on the lookout, on my own. Oh, and I hadn’t met anybody, either.

I had, however, encountered every personality type, height, style of male hair and facial stubble, attitude toward “who pays/opens doors/orders dinner,” and pickup line out there (a personal favorite:  “How about coming back to my place and sharing a can of ravioli?”).  I had also strolled through the park at 3:00 AM on on my first date with Crazy Inventor Guy  (bad Ricki!  Bad girl! Luckily, he was innocuous–and eventually became a great friend); shared a picnic with Farmboy from Calgary (did you know that I have eyes just like a cow’s?); co-hosted a martini party with Mr. Evolved Male (who, sadly, was hit upon repeatedly by my gay friend M, while M assured me, “Of course he’s gay.  I know these things”);** spent hours on the phone with The Mogul (since he was eternally travelling the globe on business), only to meet him in person and be really, really sorry I couldn’t somehow force myself to like him (but–his own plane!! A yacht! Jetting to England at a moment’s notice!!); and ultimately wasted devoted squandered spent 3 months embroiled with Rocker Guy (he of the black leather pants) only to discover he’d been cheating on me pretty much the whole time we were together.

Eventually, I decided, “You win some–and you lose some.”  I stopped worrying about it. 

And then–poof!–out of nowhere, I met the HH.

Win!

II. Restaurants: You win some, you lose some.

Ever since I began the ACD last year, I’ve been on a mission to find restaurants that can accommodate my dietary restrictions.  Luckily, I’ve discovered two or three, and the HH and I tend to frequent those establishments regularly.  On our recent vacation in Florida, I was elated to discover Wish, where I enjoyed a tasting menu of four vegetarian dishes. 

Win!

Then, for our anniversary last week (and thanks again for all the good wishes!), the HH and I had our hearts set on our favorite special occasion place.  Eating at this place is like splurging on that adorable Christian Lacroix jacket at Holt’s–you really can’t afford to do it very often (in fact, we do it only once a year–usually on our anniversary), but boy, is it worth it.

At least, until this last time. 

Normally at our annual visit, I enjoy the portobello “steak” (marinated mushroom), but since fungi are a no-no on the ACD, I called in advance to ensure there would be something I could eat. And since the HH and I are such long-standing patrons there, I thought the place would be willing to accommodate.  ”No problem,” the lovely hostess told me on the phone.  “See you Saturday evening.”

First course: baby spinach salad with green apple and pine nuts.  So far, so good.

Then came the main course.  I was given (with impeccable service, mind you) a slab of grilled sweet potato draped over a mix of grilled chickpeas, puy lentils, sautéed, spinach and white asparagus.  (Looks eerily like a piece of salmon, doesn’t it?)

To be fair, the sides–as usual–were astoundingly good. If I could figure out how to reproduce those grilled chickpeas, I could die a happy woman.  But, um, excuse me? A piece of sweet potato as a main dish? This is the best they could come up with?

LOSE.  (Or, to use twitter parlance, FAIL.  And Epic Fail, at that.)

True, they almost redeemed themselves with our desserts–mine, a simple bowl of fresh berries.  But behold the presentation:

Nevertheless, we are seriously re-thinking whether or not we’ll continue to patronize the place.

III. Recipes: You win some, you lose some.

With cooking, as well, there are the “let’s-pop-the-cork,” “you-just-won-the-lottery,” “you-came-first-in-your-class,” “you-mean-the-size-eight-is-too-big?” types of successes, as well as the brilliant failures.  To wit, a recent comment from Michelle made my day; she asked about how I create recipes.  The comment concluded this way: ”Always love your recipes, Ricki! You must spend a lot of time developing them? I’m curious!”  Of course, that got me thinking about my process of recipe creation. 

Like most cooks, I am often inspired by something I ate somewhere else or something I read about, and begin there.  Other times, I have a need to use up some ingredients, and the recipe is born of necessity.  Or, perhaps, I just want to challenge myself to see what I can come up with. 

Depending on the recipe, I do, indeed, sometimes spend a lot of time creating it.  My soy-free whipped cream, for instance, was tested about 50 times before it hit my cookbook.  Sometimes I chronicle the various iterations of a recipe, as when I wrote about chocolate pecan pie.  Other times, I hit on a recipe on the first go-round (though that is a rarity). In other words, you win some and you lose some.  (Happily, the difference between recipe creation and dating is that you can throw away the loser recipes).

In a recent issue of the McDougall newsletter, I noticed a reworked recipe for this salad from Martha Stewart’s website. This is my own remake of the remake (sort of like Canadian Idol–you know, a poor imitation of American Idol, which was an imitation of–and has since surpassed–the original Pop Idol).  Only this time, the salad was a total success. Not only that, it worked out perfectly–on the first try. 

BIG WIN!

Like the spring air, this salad is characterized by crispness and the heady aroma of tender green shoots.  The sprouts are both crunchy and juicy, complemented perfectly by the natural sugar of the peas and lemon scented tang of the creamy dressing. The original recipe called for raw, julienned asparagus spears, but the HH refused to even taste it unless I steamed them first; next time, I’ll stick with the raw, as I’m sure the salad would be even more appealing that way. As it was, we managed to polish it off in two meals, and wished there were more. 

 “Hey, Elsie–oops,  I mean, Ellen, I guess we could apply this principle to anything, couldn’t we? Like, say, treats: you win some, you lose some.  Or frisbee: you win some, you lose some!  Or how about–”

“Zip it, Chaser.  Sisters: you win some, you lose some. *Sigh.*”

**No, Mr. Evolved Male didn’t end up dating my gay friend. In fact, he reconciled with his former girlfriend shortly after that party. (You win some. . . ).

Asparagus, Pea Shoot and Pea Salad

adapted from this recipe

Remarkably quick to make, this fresh, crisp, quintessentially springtime salad is a perfect first course.  I streamlined the recipe even more by using a flavorful nut-based mayo as the only dressing ingredient–it was sensational.  

For the dressing (adapted from this recipe):

1 cup (155 g) raw or lightly toasted cashews

juice of one large lemon

1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) garlic powder

1-2 Tbsp (5-10 ml) fresh dill, chopped, or 2 tsp (10 ml) dried dill

1/8-1/4 tsp (.5-1 ml) fine sea salt, to taste

2 Tbsp (10 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic

1/4-1/2 cup (60-120 ml) water or unsweetened soymilk, as needed

freshly ground pepper, to taste

For the salad:

3/4 cup (180 ml) fresh shelled peas or frozen peas, defrosted

1 bunch asparagus (about 1 lb or 500 g), lightly steamed or raw, cut into thin strips or shredded

4 ounces (120 g) pea shoots or sprouts (about 4 cups/1 liter)

Make the dressing:  place all ingredients in a high powered blender (start with 1/4 cup or 60 ml liquid) and blend until perfectly smooth. Add pepper and blend again. 

Place the peas, asparagus and pea shoots in a large bowl.  Add the dressing and toss to coat everything evenly.  Taste and adjust seasonings.  Makes 4-6 servings.  Will keep, covered, in refrigerator up to 2 days.

With its emphasis on peas, I thought this was a perfect entry for the long-standing event, My Legume Love Affair, started by Susan and this month hosted by Sowjanya of Ruchika Cooks.

Last Year at this Time: Entirely Original Curried Pumpkin Hummus

Two Years Ago: Lucky Comestible II (5): Apple Quinoa Cake

© 2010 Diet, Dessert and Dogs

Well, it snowed AGAIN yesterday (is this grating on your nerves as much as it’s grating on mine?* I mean, it is now March 19th.  Like, what’s up with that? Snow is just. . . so. . . wrong at this time of year.  In either hemisphere). 

I am yearning for spring like the Tin Man yearns for a heart, like the artist formerly known as “The Artist Formerly Known as Prince” (now known just as “Prince”) yearns for purple, like Hillary yearns for the nomination–but it’s all for naught.  It’s still miserable outside.  I’m still miserable inside. Oh, woe, oh boo hoo, oh woe is me (shouldn’t that actually be “woe is I”? Ach, whatever.)

Well, if I can’t have a dip in a pool, I’ve decided to just have a dip.

Dips evoke warm weather in my mind. I love me a good hummus, smoothed languidly over falafels on outdoor patios, or lolling atop baby carrots as the HH and I enjoy a relaxed preprandial interlude, watching The Girls fight wrestle frolic on the lawn during summer evenings. Traditional spinach and onion dips, bean dips, veggie dips, even sweet fruit-and-nut dips–they’re all served at outdoor Bar-B-Qs, weekend picnics, or summer wedding buffets.

(“We love dips too, Mum.  Especially skinny-dips. How long till we can play in that wading pool again, Mum?”)

As soon as I began to search for dips on other food blogs, I was rewarded with a treasure trove of recipes. A few that intrigued me included Kalyn’s Slow Roasted Tomato Hummus ; Fat-Free Vegan Kitchen’s Shiny Happy Hummus; Farmgirl Fare’s Hot Artichoke-Chard Dip (how can you go wrong with chard?); Green Gourmet Giraffe’s Spiced Carrot Dip; and  The Good Eatah’s Super-Simple Magic Bullet Bean Dip (partly because I’ve been fascinated by that Magic Bullet ever since I first saw that cheesy infomercial starring Mimi and Mick, at home with their annoying, hung-over friends).

Still, the dip that beguiled me the most was the Creamy Aspara-Dip from Chocolate Covered Vegan.  Brilliantly green and smooth; glossy, even–how could I resist that emerald harbinger of springtime after all these months of desolate winter wasteland?

“The Ugliest Food You’ll Ever Love,” trumpeted the blog entry, and ”If you aren’t a vegan, this dip will most assuredly NOT convince you to become one.” I remained undeterred, and not just a little entranced by the radiant, grassy hue. Katie promised to share the recipe with those who asked, so I asked away. 

I should pause at this juncture to explain something.  I feel extremely fortunate to have begun cooking and baking quite early on, and equally fortunate to have developed a concomitant ability to virtually “taste” a recipe just by reading the ingredients.  This sense comes in handy when I want to decide whether or not to try something I’ve never eaten before (pears and balsamic vinegar?  Yes.  Smoked tofu?  Yes.  Kale and seaweed salad?  Okay. Goji berries and mint?  Not so much.)

The HH, on the other hand, was not blessed with this particular brand of sensory imagination.  On Sunday mornings (okay, more like afternoons), we’ll sit across from each other at the brunch table, leisurely perusing the National Post, Globe and Mail  and Toronto Star as we sip on our respective hot beverages (his: hazelnut-flavored coffee with 10% real cream; mine: Krakus coffee substitute with chocolate flavored almond milk–like a mochaccino!). We’ll occasionally pause to read something of interest to the other across the plates and mugs.  

Mostly, the HH reads me stories from the Business section, about how an economic disaster (the likes of which we’ve not seen since 1929) looms, say, or where to find the latest ultra-exclusive audio gadgets (did you know you can buy stereo speakers that cost over $100,000, for instance?).  I read to him from stories in the Arts and Life section, about how workplace bullying is more harmful to employees than sexual harrassment, say, or how women who rate their relationships as happiest are the ones whose spouses share at least 50% of the household chores.

Every once in a while, though, I’ll forget that he lacks an ability for conceptual cooking and may emit a remark such as, “Oooh, listen to this: watermelon and basil salad.  Doesn’t that sound fantastic?” To which he’ll counter with a response such as, ”Bwwwffffzztttt!” (that’s a spontaneous spraying of hazelnut-flavored coffee and 10% real cream over the Business section of the newspaper). Of course, he simply can’t imagine it.

Well, as soon as I read the list of ingredients in Katie’s dip, I knew I’d enjoy it, despite her dip-deprecating comments.  And it was, indeed, lip-smackingly, lick-the-spoon delicious: creamy, with a citrusy tang and sweet, green undertones.  Though he couldn’t imagine it beforehand, the HH was happy to consume a hearty portion.  And it provided us both with a little dip into virtual springtime.

Because this recipe contains not one, but two veggies, it’s the perfect dish to submit to Cate’s weekly ARF/5-A-Day event, over at Sweetnicks.  She posts the roundup every Tuesday evening, so feel free to check it out then!

Katie’s Creamy Aspara-Dip

This dip is quick, easy, and, as Katie wrote, “this stuff tastes terrific.” While it’s great on crackers or crudités, I bet it would make an excellent pesto-like dressing for a summer pasta salad as well.  If summer ever arrives, that is.

7 or 8 oz. (about 225 g.) cooked asparagus spears

5 oz. (about 140 g.) frozen peas

2 Tbsp. (30 ml.) fat-free Nayonaise (I used homemade tofu-based mayonnaise)

1 Tbsp. (15 ml.) fresh cilantro, chopped

1 Tbsp. (15 ml.) fresh lime juice

1 tsp. (5 ml.) minced garlic

1/2 tsp. (2.5 ml.) ground cumin

2 Tbsp. (30 ml.) red onion, chopped

Place all ingredients in a food processor and puree until desired smoothness is achieved.  Serve immediately.  Makes about 2 cups (500 ml.).  Store leftovers in airtight container in the refrigerator (we ate the rest of ours the next day).

* Or perhaps it’s just my incessant daily mention of it that’s getting on your nerves?  Apologies.  Will try to stifle.