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Yesterday afternoon, I called the HH at work and proposed. (No, no, silly, not that kind of proposal! We are quite content with our “been there, done that, never going to be legally married again” status, thank you.) What I proposed was this: “HH, I just noticed that Joan Rivers is performing live tonight at the Living Arts Centre in Mississauga. Would you like to go?”
And lo and behold, the HH said, “YES.”
Now, why is that scenario so surprising? Well, for two reasons. First, the HH actually said, “yes.” But more remarkable was my own invitation in the first place–my impulsive decision to attend the show.
You see, I’m a Libra.
One of the defining traits of Libras (or so the HH, my astrological expert, informs me) is indecisiveness. As the only sign represented by an inanimate object (the scales), Libras’ minds are like teeter-totters alternating between two nearly-equal entities: first, all the weight falls to one side; then it shifts and all the weight moves to the other end. Meanwhile, the poor Libra keeps vacillating between the two: Should I wear the black shoes? They match my black turtleneck. Then again, the brown shoes pick up that brown stripe in my pants. And the brown shoes are more comfortable. But the black shoes look better. Of course, the brown shoes are more sturdy, and I’ll be walking on cobblestones. Still, the black shoes were less expensive, so it won’t matter if they get a little worn out. . . .
You see my point. (Well, maybe you don’t. But then again, maybe you do. But you might not.)
This propensity to shift between alternatives can also manifest itself as an “all or nothing” mentality–in other words, Libras choose either one extreme end of the seesaw or the other. For example, I might spend an entire day creating a single pepperoni pizza, counterbalanced by some über quick Mex-Ital tofu scramble the next. Or I’ll while away the better part of an afternoon playing with Vanilla vs. Vanilla (muffins vs. cupcakes), even whipping up my own sour cream for the experiment–then ditch the complexity for quick and foolproof LaRaw Bars (Cocoa Nibbles), effectively made with only 3 ingredients.
Unfortunately for me, this “all-or-nothing” habit extends to eating, as well. I’m one of those people who, when I indulge in sweets, feels compelled to consume the entire batch at once (which explains why I haven’t made my fudge in a while. Though I did try out Kim’s healthier black bean version instead. Nope, pretty much wanted to eat that entire batch, too.)
I’m not sure why, but the culinary balance seems to have shifted to “simple” once again. Could it be that I spent so much of the past few days attempting a “cheese”-filled, gluten free, ACD-friendly bread recipe that my kitchen is now permanently coated in a patina of amaranth flour? Or perhaps it’s that my holiday from the college has encouraged recent marathon sessions in front of the TV (am I the only one who’s disappointed with Ellen on Idol? Or is she actually as noncomittal and insipid as she seems to me? And will Jack and Carly get back together–again? And how about that Liz Lemon? And why am I so jazzed to watch the Oscars when I haven’t seen any of the movies?). Or maybe it’s that I finally started working on the puzzle the HH got me for Christmas and I’ve spent far too many hours hunched over the card table, scrutinizing scalloped pieces of cardboard for subtle shifts in hue from black to grey to tan. Too many “all” activities, perhaps?
Whatever the reason, lately I’ve opted for quick and easy. And I found this wonderful recipe in–of all places–Vegan Yum Yum, the cookbook based on the blog of the same name by Lauren Ulm. Now, if you’re familiar with Lauren’s blog, you know that many of her recipes appear quite elaborate, or even intimidating (Knit Night Cupcakes, anyone?). That’s why I was totally delighted to discover that there are more than a few straightforward, simple recipes in the book–and this artichoke salad is a stellar example.
While the original employs marinated artichokes (my assumption, as it’s not specified), I adapted the recipe for the ACD and added my own seasonings. Made with staples already in most pantries, this deceptively simple salad is anything but simple in flavor and texture. Browning the chickpeas adds a slightly nutty undertone, balanced nicely by the acidity of the lemon and artichokes (and I’m all about balance). As I scooped up the first forkful, I wondered if the recipe was perhaps too basic for a blog entry. But then I found myself returning to it again and again–even, in fact, after I’d already packed the leftovers in a container and placed them in the fridge. It was that good.
Lauren notes that the salad serves four, or “one as a meal,” which is how it turned out for me. Well, I suppose it only made sense: I had to eat it all–or nothing.
”Mum, dogs don’t have an ‘all or nothing’ mentality, you know. It’s more like, ‘all or everything.’”
With chickpeas in a co-starring role here, I’m submitting this to Lisa and Jacqueline’s No Croutons Required event for March. This month’s host is Lisa and the theme is soups or salads made with chickpeas. The event runs until March 20, so there’s still time to enter if you’d like to participate!
Blog Note: I finally completed updating the “Blogs I Read” page. I know there are also lots of blogs I may have missed, so if you have a blog that fits into one of the listed categories, please let me know. I’d love to check it out! 
Warm Chickpea and Artichoke Salad (ACD Phase I and beyond)
adapted from Vegan Yum Yum by Lauren Ulm
To render the salad ACD-friendly, I used canned artichoke hearts, which are not marinated. The flavors also develop as it sits, so the salad is even better the next day. If you’re not following an anti-candida regime, however, you might like to try this with the jarred, marinated hearts and eliminate the herbs and garlic for an easier and more intensely flavored salad.
5 Tbsp (75 ml) extra virgin olive oil, divided
juice of 1 lemon
2 tsp (10 ml) dried basil, or use 1-2 Tbsp (15-30 ml) fresh, finely chopped
1 tsp (5 ml) dried oregano
1/4 cup (60 ml) fresh parsley, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) fine sea salt, or more, to taste
1-1/2 cups (360 ml) cooked chickpeas, well drained (canned are fine; rinse well before using)
6-8 artichoke hearts (about one large can), drained and sliced lengthwise
1/3 cup (55 g) natural almonds with skin, coarsely chopped
In the bottom of a large bowl, whisk together 3 Tbsp (45 ml) of the olive oil, lemon juice, basil, oregano, parsley, garlic and sea salt. Set aside.
In a large frypan, heat another 1 Tbsp (15 ml) oil. Add the chickpeas and cook over medium heat, stirring often, until they are all golden brown (this takes about 10 minutes). Add to the bowl.
Heat the remaining 1 Tbsp (15 ml) oil in the pan and add the artichoke hearts, cut side down. Cook until they are browned, stirring only once or twice to avoid breaking them up, about 5-10 minutes more. Add them to the bowl as well.
Toss the salad gently until the chickpeas and artie hearts are well coated with the dressing. To serve, spoon the salad onto serving plates and sprinkle with some of the chopped almonds (add any leftover almonds to the bowl and toss again). Serve warm. Makes 4 servings.
Last Year at this Time: A Bowl Lotta Love (meal-in-a-bowl)
Two Years Ago: Bittersweet Salad with Apples and Dandelion Greens
© 2010 Diet, Dessert and Dogs
[Have you entered the Cookbook giveaway yet? Choose any cookbook you like and you could win it as my Christmas present to you this year! Click here to enter--only one day left!]
I meant to post about this recipe yesterday, but somehow, I’m, er, running a tad behind schedule. How did I get so woefully tardy on my holiday preparations this year? Usually, I’m that student you always hated, the one who handed her essay in two days early. Or that friend who’s already seated, calmly sipping tea and reading The History of Love, when you arrive at the restaurant for lunch at the designated time. (Sorry, really. Seems I couldn’t help it. . .just anal that way).
But not this year; no sirree. I suppose I can attribute the shift in efficiency to a strange confluence of medical and dental appointments, late-in-the-term exams and massive marking duties, some broken plumbing and emergency repairs plus various and sundry other distractions scattered throughout the month. I could blame the influence of the HH (always a great fallback position) and his über laid-back approach to Christmas shopping the holidays shovelling snow everything, leaving chores or errands until the last minute, which seems to work just fine for him but is in fact disastrous for me. Or I could blame this infernal candida (even better fallback position), which has been acting up as if sparked by the holiday spirit itself.
Years ago, I vowed I would never leave holiday shopping to the last minute. This pledge came after one particular Christmas in Montreal during my graduate school years. I’d flown “home” from Toronto to be with my family, but as a don in residence, I wasn’t allowed to leave the campus until December 23rd. The CFO suggested we wait until I arrived so we could shop together–on December 24th. “We’ll just start really early, before the crowds develop,” was her reasoning. It must have been the jet-lag, but it seemed logical to me, and I agreed.*
Entering the first shopping mall, I was overcome with a mounting sense of dread as we shuffled along amid the throngs, shoulder to shoulder with a mass of strangers moving in unison from displays of scarves and mitts to shelves of sweaters and lingerie to stacks of boots and books to walls lined with dresses and coats to counters replete with mixers, radios, food processors, mixing bowls, wine glasses, can openers, oven mitts. . . . within minutes, I was a little light-headed and approaching dizzy.
After about half an hour of such torture, the CFO and I looked around at the mob of seemingly lifeless bodies perambulating like automatons, no expression (or worse, grim determination) on their faces, moving as if compelled by some unseen, insidious force. . . wait a minute–did that guy have both his arms outstretched before him, palms toward the ground? Was that a little drop of blood I saw in the corner of that grandma’s leering mouth? Was that woman at the Henckels counter lifting that blade a little too high over the saleswoman’s head? Suddenly, we both decided we had to get out of there. Now.
With only a few meagre bags at our feet, sipping cappuccino (as I still did in those days) at a nearby café, we felt enormous relief at having escaped relatively unscathed from what seemed like the scene of the latest horror movie: Christmas Night of the Living Dead, perhaps, or Invasion of the Booty Snatchers, or The Lost Buys. Or, even more to the point, simply The Shopping Mall (Mmwhahahahaaaaaa!).
Nope, never again.
Okay, so maybe December 22nd is, in reality, not much better than December 24th, but at least I got the job done yesterday (with minimal dizziness or bloodshed). The HH, on the other hand, still hasn’t even started his Christmas shopping. Mwhahhaahahaaaa!
This salad will provide a refuge from the holiday insanity (or, perhaps, some rejuvenation after the Big Day). I came across the recipe on Shannon’s blog while catching up on blog reading (another area I’m woefully behind). The original hails from Molly, and, like all of her recipes, it’s a winner. It’s quick (start to finish in less than 30 minutes), satisfying and nutritious all at once. The combination of butternut squash (for just a hint of sweetness) and chickpeas (for protein) with a smattering of red onion (for bite) and aromatic cilantro (for–well, for deliciousness) is addicting.
I had it for lunch yesterday, then again today. The creamy cloak of tahini drizzled over the warmed squash base makes for a delightful contrast in flavors and temperatures, reminiscent of the all-in-one dinner bowls I wrote about a while back. In fact, I think this would be more than sufficient for dinner if served with a healthy grain or hunk of hearty bread.
*Of course it wasn’t jet-lag; there’s no time difference between Toronto and Montreal. It was just wishful thinking.
Warm Butternut Salad with Chickpeas and Tahini Dressing
adapted from Orangette
Oddly, even though the original recipe is called “Warm Butternut Salad,” Molly’s instructions tell us to cool the squash and not re-heat it. I simply used the squash almost straight from the oven to keep the base warm, and to save time.
For the Salad:
1 medium butternut squash, peeled, seeded and cut into 1″ (2.5 cm) pieces
1 large garlic clove, minced
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) allspice (I’d go with 3/4 tsp or 3.5 ml next time)
2 Tbsp (30 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
fine sea salt, to taste
1-1/2 cups (360 ml) cooked chickpeas, or one 15 oz (425 g) can, drained and rinsed very well
1/2 small red onion, finely chopped
1/3 cup (80 ml) fresh cilantro, finely chopped
For the Tahini Dressing:
2 Tbsp (30 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
3 Tbsp (45 ml) well-stirred tahini
1 medium garlic clove, finely minced
3-1/2 Tbsp (52.5 ml) fresh lemon juice (not bottled)
2-4 Tbsp (30-60 ml) water, as needed
Preheat the oven to 425F (220C). Line a rimmed cookie sheet with parchment paper, or spray with nonstick spray.
In a large bowl, combine the squash cubes, minced garlic, allspice, degrees Fahrenheit.
In a large bowl, combine the butternut squash, 1 clove garlic, allspice, 2 Tbsp (30 ml) olive oil, and salt to taste. Use a large spoon or your hands to toss the squash until everything is evenly coated. Turn the mixture onto the baking sheet and bake in preheated oven for 20-30 minutes, until the squash is just tender (take care not to overbake at this stage). Remove from oven and cool about 5 minutes.
Meanwhile, prepare the dressing: in a small bowl or glass measuring cup, whisk together the 2 Tbsp (30 ml) olive oil and tahini until smooth. Add remaining ingredients (start with just 2 Tbsp/30 ml water) and whisk until smooth; the sauce should be the texture of thick cream. Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary (I had to add a bit more lemon juice).
To assemble: combine the baked squash, chickpeas, onion, and cilantro in a mixing bowl and toss gently (so as not to break up the squash). For individual servings, spoon onto plates and drizzle each individually with dressing. Or toss the entire salad and serve in a large bowl, family-style. Makes 4-6 servings. Will keep, covered, in the refrigerator up to 3 days.
Last Year at this Time: Gastronomic Gifts VII: Chocolate Macaroons in a Flash
Two Years Ago: Holiday Cranberry Chippers (cookies)
© 2009 Diet, Dessert and Dogs
* Or, Hummus in a World of Its Own
As we often do, the HH and I made the trek to Montreal over the long weekend to spend the holidays with my family. While I long ago became accustomed to toting along some sort of sustenance for these trips (my diet, even when I’m not on a candida cleanse, is considered fairly “out there” by the rest of my kinsfolk), this last visit presented a particular challenge, as I couldn’t even partake in those few foods I normally eat when staying with the CFO.
As a result, our cooler was packed a little more than usual as we departed for La Belle Ville. At our pit stop near Kingston, the HH bought himself a regular coffee and chicken club at Tim Horton’s, while I munched on grape tomatoes, baby carrots, and my new favorite hummus–a Curried Pumpkin variety.
The hummus came about the week before we left, as I was standing in the kitchen ruminating (figuratively, of course) about how much I miss my beloved pumpkin oats (à la Shelby) since I began this infernal ACD. While I ruminated (literally) on some hummus, it occurred to me: why not combine the pumpkin with my hummus instead? Eureka! I threw together some standard hummus, tinkered with the spices and fats, and ended up feeling rather smug for having created a unique, ingenious and flavorsome dish. Immediately, I determined to blog about it.
Well, a few days later, I encountered Vegan Yum Yum’s post about Apple Pie Coffee Cake. The post opened with the following line: ”I have a knack for inventing things that have already been invented.” Ooops.
Rather quickly, I was accosted by insistent, niggling doubts (sort of like Chaser when she wants to go for a walk) about my hummus. Could it be that my original invention already existed? Eventually, I succumbed and, after a quick Google search, discovered that pumpkin hummus abounds on the Internet. In fact, it’s almost as ubiquitous as those little popups (you know the ones–those rows of laughing emoticons) that invade your screens when you’re looking for something else. Curses!
I did take some comfort, however, in the knowledge that all of us, at some time or another, have probably considered an idea or concept of ours to be entirely unprecedented, only to discover fairly quickly that scores of others had already considered the very same thing.
* * *
The scene: Ricki, aged 17, returns home from CEGEP. The Nurse hunches over the kitchen table, enjoying a Fresca and reading Family Circle.
RICKI [flushed with pride at her own discovery]: Hey, did you ever consider how every person sees everything through their own mind? I mean, maybe each of us is actually living in our own little world, which is, like, just our own consciousness, and maybe everything else is just an illusion? Like, what if you’re not really here, but you’re only here because I think you’re here–what if everythng in the world is just an offshoot of my own imagination, creating my reality? What if there’s really nothing else except me? Whoah. Weird, huh?
THE NURSE: I hate to tell you this, but that’s a common theory. It’s called solipsism. Just read some philosophy, genius. Geez. [She yawns. Ricki sinks under the table].
Or how about the same scene, six years later:
Ricki and the CFO are hunched at the kitchen table, drinking Diet Pepsi and reading People magazine.
THE CFO: Hey, Ric, did you ever consider how every person sees everything through their own mind? I mean, maybe each of us is actually living in our own little world. . . . . What if there’s really nothing else except me? Whoah. Weird, huh?
RICKI: I hate to tell you this, but that’s actually a common concept. They even made a movie about it–The Matrix. Just rent the film (which is much more fun than reading philosophy; besides, Keanu Reeves is much cuter than Descartes).
* * *
Well, no matter. Original or not, this hummus is delightful. With its subtle, sunny glow from both pumpkin and turmeric, to the slightly sweet spice from a mild curry and creamy chickpea base, the flavors meld beautifully to create an enticing appetizer or sandwich filling.
When I served this at dinner last week, the HH proclaimed, “This is the best hummus I’ve ever had,” and made me promise to prepare it again.
Now, I’d be inclined to agree with him, except of course I can never be 100% certain that his experience of hummus is identical to my experience of hummus. . . I mean, what if he’s referring to something entirely different from me when he says “best”? And what if I am actually living in my own little world, separate and distinct from his, and the HH is just a figment of my imagination? (Well, okay, I guess that wouldn’t be so bad–it would just mean more hummus for me!). Either way, I’ll be making this again.
Curried Pumpkin Hummus
Unlike most hummus recipes, this one includes no added oils–the almond butter and tahini provide enough fat to render this smooth, creamy, and very satisfying. (And quite original, don’t you think?) It’s great as a filling in raw collard wraps–as seen above–too.
1 cup (240 ml) dry chickpeas (2-2 1/2 cups cooked, drained)
3/4 cup (180 ml) packed cooked pumpkin purée, fresh or canned
2 Tbsp (30 ml) smooth natural almond butter
3 Tbsp (45 ml) tahini (sesame paste)
2 large cloves garlic, minced
1-1/2 tsp (7.5 ml) mild curry powder
1 tsp (5 ml) cumin
1/4 tsp (1 ml) fine sea salt, or to taste
1/4-1/3 cup (60-80 ml) fresh chopped cilantro, to taste
Cover the chickpeas with water and allow to soak overnight or at least 8 hours. Drain and cover with fresh water in a large pot. Bring to boil, reduce heat to medium-low, and cook until very soft, about 40 minutes. (Alternately, use canned, well-rinsed chickpeas).
In the bowl of a food processor, combine the drained chickpeas and remaining ingredients and process until smooth (add up to 1/3 cup or 80 ml water to achieve desired thickness). Scrape into serving bowl and drizzle with olive oil, if desired. Serve with pita chips or raw veggies, or use as a filling in sandwiches or wraps. Makes about 3 cups.
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