In case you haven’t noticed, we Canadians are pretty obsessed with the weather. It rules our schedules, our wardrobes and our moods. Wake up to sunny skies and 26C (79 F), as we did a couple of weeks ago, and it’s going to be a good day. Wake up to glum, sodden skies, and that scowl won’t leave your face for the next 18 hours.
The weather influences how early you have to leave for work, your choice of foot covering for the day, whether your hair will behave or not, and how long your dog-walk will be. Good or bad, it can even inspire me to haiku:
Last week was summer.
This week, earmuffs have returned.
Oh, Canada–why?
(If you’re in the mood for more random haiku–including the HH’s magnum opus from his childhood–see this post).
Despite the unseasonally inclement weather this week, I’ve been hankering after raw foods for some reason. (I’ve also been dreaming of appearing on The Ellen Show, but that’s pretty much standard every week these days.)
Maybe I’m just classically conditioned to react this way at this time of year, thermostat to the contrary or not. It’s sort of like being hungry at 12:00 noon, even if I’ve eaten breakfast at 11:00 AM; my head says, “Oh, yeah! Time to eat!” and I heed the call, even if my tummy is still churning through my cereal. (Still trying to work on that “listen-to-your-body-signals” thing). Whatever; I decided to give in to the impulse, and whip up some broccoli hummus.
“Mum, are you suggesting that there’s something wrong with classical conditioning? And does this mean all of our work with that nice Mr. Pavlov was for naught? But you will still give us those treats every time you ring a bell, won’t you? “
This is Gena’s fantabulous recipe, so I can’t really take the cakethis man to be my lawfully wedded husbandthe heat the credit for it. However, I did minimally adapt it since, unlike Gena, I find it’s a rare hummus I can enjoy without a good hit of garlic included. If you prefer yours without the added allicin, then by all means, leave it out. I also substituted miso for the nutritional yeast, since I’m still adhering to ACD, of course.
The recipe is perfect in its simplicity, like a classic string of pearls, or a Henry Moore sculpture, or Jessica Simpson. I couldn’t believe how quickly it came together, and how scrumptious it was. The zucchini confers both smoothness and creaminess, just as it does in Gena’s remarkably delicious zucchini dressing (which I’ve been making almost daily for the past couple of weeks) as well; and the tahini provides a bit more density and heft for spreading.
Even if you’re not a fan of broccoli, you’ll likely enjoy this, as the flavor is tempered by the tahini. I’ve had the hummus spread on a raw collard wrap and on rice cakes–both work beautifully. And between the broccoli and tahini, you’re getting a nice hit of calcium in each serving. All in all, a bowl of yum.
And if you squint really hard at that photo up top, you can pretend it’s a poetry-inspiring photo of the sun, its rays emanating warmth and sunny dispositions across our Canadian skies this morning.
Gena’s Raw Broccoli Hummus (ACD Phase I and beyond)
This quick and easy spread is a perfect alternative to standard hummus, especially if you’re trying to reduce starchy foods. And since the main ingredients are broccoli and zucchini, you can even enjoy a little more than you would the regular stuff–without worrying about the calories.
1-1/2 cups (360 ml) raw broccoli, chopped
1-1/2 cups (360 ml) raw zucchini with skin, chopped
1 medium clove garlic, minced
1/3 cup raw tahini (sesame paste)–use regular, as I did, if you don’t mind that the recipe isn’t entirely raw
1 Tbsp (15 ml) mild miso*
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) cumin
3 Tbsp (45 ml) freshly squeezed lemon juice
fresh ground pepper, to taste
olive oil, for drizzling
Place the broccoli and zucchini in a food processor and process until almost smooth. Add the remaining ingredients and continue to process until smooth and creamy, scraping down sides of processor bowl as necessary. Taste and adjust seasonings. Serve immediately or refrigerate. Makes about 2 cups. Will keep, covered, in refrigerator up to 3 days.
*NOTE: For ACD Phase I, use Bragg’s instead of miso.
[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).]
For some reason, I seem to be a little lethargic this year when it comes to dispensing the holiday cheer. It’s not that I’m begrudge anyone else their cookie exchanges, or tree-ornament earrings, or constant Muzak carols, or Santa Claus shower curtains.* It’s just that I haven’t been able to muster the spirit of the season to partake in those things myself. Sniff!
True, the HH is one of those people who’d rather not make a fuss over the holidays (or, hmm, anything, come to think of it). So I am usually the instigator when it comes to setting up our little tree, decorating the house, wrapping and putting out presents, or planning a festive feast. This year, though, I’ve been dragging my feet.
Could it be that my loathing of winter has finally superceded my adoration of the holidays? Could it be that the HH and his laissez-faire attitude have finally exerted their influence on me? Could it be that the infernal interloper, the ACD–who showed up unexpectedly last winter and now refuses to leave until all my candida symptoms are eradicated–has put a damper on the season? (Well, even I have to admit that it’s a tad more difficult to cook up a traditional feast–complete with holiday sweet treats–on this diet. Which is why I’ve been working really hard on a slew of holiday and festive recipes–including ACD-friendly desserts–that I’ll be offering in an ebook in just a couple of days!).
Unlike last year, when I went a wee bit overboard creating all manner of gastronomic gifts, I just haven’t immersed myself in the spirit as of yet (I suppose being unable to imbibe any type of spirit this season may have something to do with it as well). It’s amazing how many homemade gifts are meant to be sweet, or baked, or desserts, isn’t it?
But then it occurred to me–what about all the other delicious foods: condiments, seasonings, dips, spreads, dry soup mixes–that could constitute gifts? And suddenly, the spirit of Christmas Present touched me once again. Whoo-hoo! Time to get to the kitchen!
I’ve decided to give a few homemade, foodie gifts this year, even if I can’t eat them all. Into the mix will go ACD-friendly recipes as well, but only if anyone could appreciate them. This pesto falls into the latter category.
A milder take on conventional (basil-and-pine-nut) pesto, this cilantro based version is extremely versatile and very tasty. I originally created the recipe because I wasn’t allowed many alternatives on the ACD and wanted to use Brazil nuts–one of the only nuts I could eat–in a novel manner. Now, I must admit, I like it at least as much as “regular” pesto, if not more. And the beauty of this recipe is that it’s incredibly quick and easy; just blend, scoop into a clean jar, label and wrap for a perfect hostess gift, treat for a co-worker, or stocking stuffer.
Slather the pesto on crackers for a quick snack, or toss with your favorite grain for an instant pilaf. As in the photo, below, you can also toss with still-warm potatoes, grape tomatoes and sliced green onions for a delicious winter potato salad. I also like this tossed with freshly steamed kale.
Don’t you feel like hopping right up and starting to make some foodie gifts right now? I’ll race you to the kitchen.
Now, that’s the spirit!
“Mum, it’s not true that Dad never makes a fuss over anything–he fusses over us all the time. Just try wagging your tail and kissing his hand when he comes home from work, and he’ll make a fuss over you, too.”
* Honestly, I wouldn’t have even known such things existed, except The Nurse actually owns one of these!
Brazil-Nut Cilantro Pesto
Use as you would any pesto, in pasta, soups, or as an appetizer on crackers.
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 cup (120 ml) halved Brazil Nuts
1 cup (240 ml) very loosely packed cilantro leaves, or use a combination of cilantro and parsley
2-3 Tbsp (30-45 ml) extra virgin olive oil, as you like
1 Tbsp (15 ml) freshly squeezed lemon juice
pinch fine sea salt
In a small food processor, blend together the garlic and nuts until crumbly. Add remaining ingredients and blend until smooth but still grainy. Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator up to 10 days. Makes about 1 cup (240 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. For this fifth edition, I'm focusing on cilantro. 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 cilantro.]
The other day, the HH and I were discussing the possibility of taking a short trip to Boston to visit my cousin CBC. “That would be so much fun,” I blurted out spontaneously, “I’ve got a couple of friends in Boston!” When he asked whom, I stammered, “Well, blog friends.”
Before I started blogging, I couldn’t have fathomed how one could consider a virtual (no pun intended) stranger to be a “friend.” Yet it’s true–I feel as if I’ve made friends in cities across the continent and even around the world through this l’il blog, and my contact with them is often more consistent and frequent than it is with my “local,” live friends.
Well, thanks to my blog reader, cookbook tester, and friend Courtney, I came home last week to a package that contained these:
Don’t you just love receiving gifts in the mail? The GardenSac bags (on which the card and brown rice are resting) are made from 100% cotton and can be used for any kind of shopping. And, as Courtney and I discussed, they’re terrific because the open weave allows you to easily see what’s inside. With most stores here in the Toronto area recently switching to “pay-for-plastic” policies (and some offer credit if you bring your own reusable bags), this is a perfect, and very timely, gift! And I don’t know how Courtney guessed, but I love wild rice. I’ve already made a wonderful Confetti Salad with it–which I’ll blog about anon. Thanks again, Courtney!
And as if last week wasn’t already great enough, I found out that I’ll be presenting two recipe demos from Sweet Freedom(one on Saturday and another on Sunday) at the upcoming Vegetarian Food Fair in September! Billing itself as “North America’s largest annual vegetarian festival,” and with stellar keynote speakers like Colleen Patrick-Goudreau (author of The Joy of Vegan Baking and The Vegan Table) and Brenda Davis (co-author of Becoming Vegetarian and Becoming Vegan), the Fair promises to be another spectacular event this year. It’s scheduled between September 11 and 13 at Toronto’s Harbourfront. Come on out and say “hi”!
Whew! And now, time for some zingy, spicy, nutritious and delectable food!
Having grown up on a farm, my dad must have felt a strong affinity for the earth, because even after working six days a week and keeping incredibly long hours, he always grew a garden in summer. Granted, it was a fairly small garden; still, growing up my sisters and I were regularly graced with fresh tomatoes in August, plus the occasional cucumber, red pepper, or propitious esculent each season.
One year, he decided to try out sunflowers. Why sunflowers? Beats me. Maybe he thought they were pretty (come to think of it, if their wallpaper choices are any indication, my parents did lean toward all things floral). I remember being astonished at how tall the stalks grew, capped with golden saucers that towered over my own eight year-old frame, and how the actual seeds filled the center of the scalloped disk, encased in their rigid black shells. When summer ended, we roasted the seeds in the oven, and my sisters and I continued to snack on them through Hallowe’en (at which point they were unceremoniously chucked in favor of candy, of course).
Remember the Jack Nicholson-Morgan Freeman groaner, The Bucket List? Well, self-indulgent male menopausal buddy flicks aside, I’ve recently been thinking about my own version of the list, and activities that are most important to me in my lifetime. One of the items I’ve added to my personal bucket list is “grow a real garden.” Believe me, this is quite the proclamation coming from She Who Shrinks from Anything Insectoid. Also, a startling revelation from She Who Recoils at Anything Snakelike. Oh, and don’t forget a shocking assertion from She Who Guards Against Anything Even Remotely Germ-Infested or Bacteria-laden. Why, then, it makes perfect sense that I’d choose to spend my time on my knees on the dirt, digging into earth rife with microorganisms, the habitat of myriad insects and worms–and often visited by garter snakes.
I’m not sure what it is, but as I get older, I see what must have appealed to my dad about a garden. Nurturing the seeds, coaxing infant seedlings until they stretch sunward, ultimately unfurling in full bloom, just taps into my (otherwise untapped) maternal instinct somehow. (“And don’t forget having dogs, Mum! That taps into your maternal instincts, too, right? Hopefully the ‘you must feed your children’ maternal instincts.”)
Which brings me to this post’s Lucky Comestible: cilantro.
I determined early that my garden absolutely had to contain cilantro–lots and lots of cilantro. Now, I know that cilantro is one of those herbs one either loves or loathes. Like the ability to curl your tongue or whether or not your earlobes are detached, a penchant for cilantro appears to be genetically predetermined. Some people perceive it as “soapy and perfumey” while others can’t get enough. Having begun life in the former camp, I now find myself firmly entrenched in the latter.
Like so many herbs, cilantro (also known as Chinese Parsley) confers a plethora of health benefits besides the usual vitamins and minerals (though it’s no slouch in those areas, either–only 9 sprigs of the delicate plant provide almost one third of your daily Vitamin A, nine per cent of your daily Vitamin C, plus iron and calcium).
More importantly, the green pigment in cilantro represents chlorophyl, a powerful detoxifying agent and blood purifier. Cilantro is known to be a chelating herb, which means it draws heavy metals out of the system by encouraging the liver to produce bile so they’ll be excreted. In his monumental tome, Staying Healthy with Nutrition, Dr. Elson Haas includes a recipe for “Anti-Radiation Soup” that relies on the cleansing properties of cilantro to help flush the body of toxins produced due to radiation. I always have the soup after any necessary X-Rays (and, according to Haas, the soup was “shown to reduce radiation sickness after the Hiroshima bombing”).
If you’re one of those people who comes down on the “loathe” side of cilantro, I’d urge you to give it another try. You’ll find that the next few posts here at DDD will focus on this fragrant and fragile herb. Of course, you can always substitute parsley for some or all of the cilantro in these recipes– but why not live dangerously? That’s one more item you can check off your own bucket list.
Fresh & Spicy Cilantro Sauce (suitable for ACD all stages)
This sauce is perfect for summer with its brilliant shade of emerald and cool, tangy, tongue-tingling flavor. The tart lime juice melds beautifully with the smooth nut butter and fragrant cilantro here. And while we ate it spooned lightly over Jessy’s Brown Rice Veggie Burgers, it would be a perfect sauce for any meal-in-a-bowl of your choice, or even tossed with cold noodles for a zingy summer salad.
1 to 1-1/2 cups fresh cilantro leaves and thin stems (depending on how much you like cilantro)
1/2 large jalapeno pepper (remove seeds for less heat)
juice of 2 limes
1-2 Tbsp (15-30 ml) water, if necessary to reach desired consistency
1 large clove garlic, chopped
1 Tbsp (15 ml) pumpkinseed butter; or use sunflower or almond butter (use raw butter for an all-raw version)
1 fresh green onion
pinch fine sea salt
Blend everything in a blender until it comes together in a smooth, light, vibrant green sauce (you may need to push down the sides of the blender a few times until everything is incorporated). Taste and adjust seasoning. Makes about 1/2 cup (120 ml). Will keep, covered, in refrigerator up to 3 days.
*Or, Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown. Now Eat Some Delicious Spread.
[There's just nothing like a homemade gift for the holidays. This year, with the purse strings a little tighter than usual, I'm determined to make at least a few in my kitchen--and thought I'd share my ideas in case you'd like to partake, too. ]
I know that pretty much everyone in the blogosphere (well, and the rest of the galaxy, too, come to think of it) has already made this spread. But hey, I’ve always been a late bloomer. And now, I’ve finally tried it, too. And it is so *&$@!% good that I had to include it as this (penultimate) Gastronomic Gift this year. (I’ve got one more planned, as long as we can shovel ourselves out of the *&$@!% 25 cm. (just under a foot) of snow that battered the city yesterday and I can get to the store).
Pumpkin butter is the perfect means to use up cooked pumpkin (or squash, to those of us in North America). It’s a great nut butter substitute if you’re trying to reduce fat and calories. Or if, like me, you’ve once again allowed the insidious holiday-time profusion of chocolate and chocolate-coated/ chocolate studded/ chocolate-molded/ chocolate-frosted/ chocolate flavored/ chocolate filled/ chocolate-related-in-any-way desserts that seem to reproduce of their own accord on countertops and dining room tables and candy dishes and office desks and buffets and coffee tables and bar tops and glove compartments and pockets and dessert menus to override your (wobbly at the best of times) self control, and you find that you’ve now consumed more chocolate in the past two weeks than the entire GDP of a small country, more than Big Brother’s secret stash in 1984, more than the exports from Switzerland at Valentine’s Day, more than the full contents of Willie Wonka’s factory–more, really than you’d rightfully expect any normal human being to ingest under any circumstances whatsoever in a lifetime, except maybe under threat of torture.
What? You mean it’s just me?
For some strange reason, I felt the need for a break from chocolate for a while (ahem). Now that I’ve made my own pumpkin butter, I can join the chorus and say that I, too, am smitten. It’s the perfect accompaniment to pretty much any carbohydrate with a flat surface (or even a somewhat bumpy one–have you tried this on rice cakes? Divine.)
But I must admit that my favorite use for the butter isn’t on toast, or a muffin, or pancakes, or any other solid food. I think I love it most blended (using my hand blender) in a tall, cold glass of almond or soymilk. Yum-mers!
It also makes a fabulous hostess gift, of course, and a wonderful last-minute present; it’s the perfect way to use up that final can of pumpkin purée that’s been biding its time in your cupboard since Thanksgiving.
This recipe (the ubiquitous allrecipes version) makes a pretty big batch, so you can scoop some away for home use and still fill two or three pretty little gift jars with the stuff to give away. If you can bear to part with it.
Oh, and there are still four more days to bid on some amazing prizes from Menu for Hope! Hop on over to the main donation page and give it a go!
Try this lovely alternative butter anywhere you’d spread jam or nut butter. It’s got no fat, with the bonus of holiday spices all year round.
3-1/2 cups (about 820 g.) cooked, puréed pumpkin
3/4 cup (180 ml.) apple juice [but personally I think OJ would be great in this]
2 tsp. (10 ml.) ground ginger
1/2 tsp. (2.5 ml.) ground cloves
2/3 cup (160 ml.) agave nectar (light or dark)
2 tsp. (10 ml.) ground cinnamon
1 tsp. (5 ml.) ground nutmeg
Combine all ingredients in a medium sized pot. Heat over medium-high heat until mixture boils; reduce heat to low and continue to simmer, stirring very frequently, until the mixture is thick and has darkened (the original recipe said 30 minutes, but mine took a bit more than an hour). This might also be a good time to pull out that old splatter screen if you have one, as the mixture tends to boil and pop a bit (my walls needed a good wipe-down after I was done).
Pour into clean glass jars and store in the refrigerator. Makes about 2 cups (500 ml.). Will keep at least 3 weeks in the refrigerator.
GG III: Marzipan-Topped Shortbread **Note: the original recipe was somehow transcribed incorrectly–please use the current version with the correct amount of flour!!
