Diet, Dessert and Dogs

[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).]

[Uber creamy--with no dairy or soy!]

Thanks, everyone, for all the great comments in response to my last post. One point I found fascinating–and hadn’t thought about before–is how so many vegan options in restaurants are just “meh.”  As Julie, Jessy and Danielle pointed out, most often the vegan foods are simply the regular items with the animal products taken out–rather than dishes designed from scratch as “vegan.”  In that case, I agree: more fun to eat at home!  I do feel fortunate that there are so many great choices here in Toronto, however.  (Oh, and summers are the best time to visit: it’s been sunny and between 22 and 30C/72-86F the past couple of weeks.  Toronto is a fabulous city, filled with world-class events, sights and culture, not to mention multicultural cuisine.  You’re welcome, Toronto Tourism Network).

One of the things I love about the ACD (a veto on over half the usual foods from my diet?  Causing a horrendous detox reaction in which I stumbled around with flu-like symptoms, barely able to think straight during the first few weeks of the diet? Forcing me to stave off cravings that persisted unabated, basically for the first six months–sort of like The Bride against the Crazy 88s in that scene from Kill Bill (Volume I)? ) is that, now finally in Stage II, I can rejoice over the return of some fruits to my culinary repertoire. 

I nearly wept with elation when I first ate fresh pineapple again a couple of weeks ago; I love it that much (can you believe the HH doesn’t fancy it?  “Too acidic,” he says.) Besides its heavenly, ambrosia flavor and distinctively pinecone exterior, pineapple always brings with it the pleasant satisfaction of accomplishment after you finally cut away all the inedible parts and sink your teeth into the luscious, juicy fruit inside.  I’ve even been known to gnaw at the yellow flesh clinging to the skin, risking the thorny bits for the joy of pineapple nectar running down my chin. (“Mum, you don’t have to take that risk.  Just let us eat it instead–we don’t care about the thorny bits.”)

In my zeal to bring more fresh pineapple into the house, I purchsed a huge specimen last week and went to town cutting away the peel and slicing it into bite-sized chunks.  But after two days of gorging on diced pineapple and with over half a container remaining, I realized that radical measures were necessary to finish the beloved treat before it began to ferment (a huge no-no for the ACD). 

Some of you may recall the wayward patch of mint growing at the side of our house.  Well, this year I determined to take the offensive and begin snipping and using those emerald leaves as soon as I saw their little Martian heads sprouting through the ground.  I’ve already made a variation on my original mint smoothie (with the aforementioned pineapple, as well) and today whipped up this quick and easy salad dressing (or mint sauce–it’s very adaptable that way). 

With Gena’s inspiration still in my mind, I based this dressing/sauce on the principle of “veggies + flax = creaminess.”  I also added pineapple for its natural sweetness and the fact that it contains the compound bromelain, a digestive enzyme that serves to distinguish pineapple (and, similarly,  papaya because of its papain) from other fruits as two that are acceptable to consume at the end of the meal even if you’re following principles of food combining (since they aid in digestion rather than delay it).

The dressing turned out light and smooth, its creamy texture complemented by a fresh and subtly mint flavor and aroma.  It created a beautiful visual and textural counterpart to my lunchtime dandelion salad (fresh dandelion greens, cucumber slices, and more pineapple chunks).  The very slight sweetness along with the spirited minty flavor were the perfect foils for the bitterness of the dandelion and crunch of the cucumber.  Just right for a light and summery meal.

While I used the mixture as a dressing, I think it would also make a perfect sauce for your next dinner in a bowl.  In fact, I’m going to cook up some millet for tonight’s supper and start thinking about which veggies would work well as a foundation for the sauce (I know; that’s sort of like buying furniture to match the color once you’ve already painted the walls, but hey).

Canada AM update:  a few of you asked where you could find the clip of me on the show. I’ve now added it to my Press page (first item under “Television and Radio”). 

Creamy Mint and Pineapple Dressing or Sauce

Quick and easy, this is a versatile summer salad dressing, dip or sauce.  Try it with crudités, potato salad, or pasta.  The zucchini here lends some creaminess, as does the tahini.

1 medium zucchini, cut into chunks

1 cup (240 ml) fresh pineapple chunks

1 Tbsp (15 ml) freshly squeezed lemon or lime juice

1/4 cup (60 ml) tahini (sesame paste)

1 Tbsp (15 ml) finely ground flax seeds

1-inch (2.5 cm) piece fresh ginger, peeled and grated

20-25 fresh mint leaves (or more, to taste)

1/4 cup (60 ml) water

Place all ingredients in a blender and blend until perfectly smooth.  Allow to sit for 2-3 minutes, then stir before using. Use over salad greens, on grain-based salads or over warm grain and vegetable bowls.  Makes about 1-1/2 cups (360 ml).  Store, covered, in refrigerator for up to 3 days.

Since this contains my (very) local mint, I’m linking this post to Food Renegade’s Fight Back Fridays for this week.

Last Year at this Time: Dog Day: Where’s Mum?

Two Years Ago: Radish and Grapefruit Salad

© 2010 Diet, Dessert and Dogs

To me, summer means potato salad season. And coleslaw season, and watermelon season, and ice cream season, and gin and tonic season. . . but primarily, potato salad season.  So, quick: when you think of potato salad, what type do you think of?

Well, there are the “smooth and creamy potato salad” people.  There are the “tangy, vinegary potato salad” people.  There are the “small cubed potatoes potato salad” people and the “big, honkin’ chunks of potato potato salad” people.  There are the “grilled potatoes potato salad” people. And there are even the “radishes and potatoes potato salad ” people (an iteration I’d never encountered before this summer).

And moi?  I like ‘em all.  The HH is a huge fan of potatoes in any form, prepared using any cooking method and dressed with any and all toppings or seasonings (unfortunately, his sole requirement is that they be plated alongside a piece of animal protein). 

(“And Mum, don’t forget the ‘canine potato salad people’. . . oh, actually, we’ll just take that piece of animal protein instead.”)

Since I adore leafy green vegetables and have also been trying to incorporate more of them into my diet lately, I’m eternally scouting out recipes that make use of greens in novel and interesting ways.  A few nights ago I remembered this old favorite that we haven’t eaten in a couple of years at least. The recipe is from a book I found over a decade ago, in the remainder bin at a local bookstore. Called, simply, The Greens Book, it’s a slender volume offering a multitude of esoteric recipes with a handful of more accessible ones (of which this salad is one).  Mostly, I’ve used the book as a reference source when I want to identify some mysterious or previously unencountered green that’s crossed my path (sometimes literally), as it also provides sharp and stunning photographs of each type of leaf. 

I’ve proclaimed my affection for raw dandelion greens in an earlier post; this salad uses barely-wilted stems and leaves and pairs them with cooked, still-warm potato chunks and a lemony, garlicky, olive-oil dressing.  It’s quick, easy, and perfect as an accompaniment to a Bar B Q buffet or as a main course if served alongside another salad.  Because the flavors are so pronounced, this dish can easily liven up a humble or mildly flavored main course.

Although they’re not technically herbs, dandelions do grow in my very own backyard, so I’m submitting this recipe to Kalyn’s Weekend Herb Blogging event, started at Kalyn’s Kitchen and this week hosted by Simona at Briciole.

Warm Dandelion and Potato Salad

from The Greens Book by Susan Belsinger and Carolyn Dille

Cooked on the stovetop in no time at all, this salad won’t overheat the house on a hot summer’s evening.  Though it’s great served warm, this is also wonderful at room temperature.

1/2 pound (225 g.) dandelion greens, picked over, washed, and dried

1-1/2 pounds (675 g.) red-skinned potatotes

1/3 cup (80 ml.) extra virgin olive oil

zest from one lemon

3 garlic cloves, pressed or minced

salt and freshly ground pepper

juice from one large lemon (about 1/4 cup–60 ml.)

generous 1/4 cup (60 ml.)–we use more like 1/3 cup or 80 ml.–pitted and sliced kalamata olives (or use whole if you can’t find pitted)

Remove dandelion leaves from stems and tear or chop into large bite-sized pieces. Cut the stems into pieces about 3/4 inch (2 cm.) long.

Scrub the potatoes. Slice into 1/8 inch (3 mm) thick slices, or, if they’re small, just cut in half. Place in pot, cover with water, and bring to boil.  Cook 10-12 minutes, until just fork-tender. Drain and keep warm.

Mix the olive oil, lemon zest, and garlic in a small bowl.  Place about 2 Tbsp. (30 ml.) of the mixture, including some bits of garlic, in a sauté pan. Heat over medium heat and add the dandelion stems.  Cook and stir for 4 minutes.  Add the greens and stir for one minute longer. Season with salt and pepper, to taste. The stems should be cooked but still crispy, and the greens should be barely wilted.

Transfer the dandelion ixture to a bolw and cover with the hot potatoes.  Add the lemon juice and rest of the oil mixture, and toss well.  Add the olives and toss again. Taste for seasoning and serve.   Makes 6 servings as a side dish or 4 as a main course.

Why, oh why did I choose Sundays? What was I thinking?  I must have been on a chocolate high at the time and totally out of it.  Otherwise, why on EARTH would any sane person choose Sunday morning to track her weight loss (which, at this point, is actually a misnomer; for, as of this morning, I am now tracking my weight gain.  Oh, woe).  

Well, I suppose I can take some small comfort in the fact that we spent all of last evening at a spectacular birthday bash for my friend Gemini I’s husband. And, given that my mouth was basically open for business between 6:00 PM and midnight last night, I’m assuming some of this is temporary (I’m hoping. . . .).  Enough self-recriminations–must move onward!  And man, that gal sure knows how to throw a party. 

For your entertainment pleasure, I thought I’d try to remember as many as I can of the continual flow of appetizers and h’ors doeuvres that floated by all evening, aloft many a wait-staff’s capable hands. In addition to a huge buffet table heaving with platters of cheese, crackers, olives, breads and spreads and cut fruits, there was also an endless array of hot and cold appetizers, including stuffed button mushrooms, garlic-stuffed olives, one-bite caramelized onion quiches, mini crab cakes with wasabi dollops, bocconcini-stuffed sundried tomatoes, mini shrimp dumplings, mini hamburgers (yes, with mini buns–looked like plastic toys, actually!), mini cold rice paper spring rolls, chicken satay skewers, mini grilled cheese sandwiches, and a probably six or seven other choices I’ve forgotten. 

The dessert trays were deadly, heaped with one-bite brownies in three or four flavors, double-chocolate chip cookies and plain ole vanilla ones, three kinds of biscotti, miniature individualized banana splits served in shot glasses, all topped off by the birthday cake, an enormous rectangle of vanilla sponge decked out with cream and fresh strawberries, all tied up with white chocolate ribbons and bows. 

One side of the room served as a bar station, where servers were generously dispensing custom pomegranate-blueberry martinis (I have no idea what else was in it, but it was delicious) and any type of wine or liquor you choose.  I was thrilled to see my favorite Australian shiraz in the group. . . all I can say is, good thing I wasn’t the designated driver last evening (thanks, HH!).

As it turns out, Gemini II’s daughter is actuallly a vegetarian in a highly carnivorous family, so there were lots of veggie options there–though I’m not sure whether that was actually good for me or not.  I threw WOCA to the winds and ate more than my fair share (and am paying the price for all that wheat I consumed).  

Which leads me to. . . .salad.  After that kind of indulgence, today I’m craving something basic.  A simple, cleansing salad seems in order. 

Now, I must admit that I’ve never really been a salad person.  Is it because I don’t like salads?  No, that wouldn’t be the reason; I thoroughly enjoy my mixed baby greens, for instance, whenever the HH and I have dinner at one of our local haunts.  After reading about the need to properly toss a salad on The Good Eatah’s blog recently, I thought my tossing skills might not be up to snuff.  Or maybe the idea of cold, raw veggies smack dab in the middle of a cold, raw winter is just too painful to bear? But that’s not it, either; I do still enjoy munching on my cold, raw apples and grapefruit.

Part of my aversion to salads may be rooted in the meals of my childhood, when “salad” meant iceberg lettuce, woody tomatoes, and wobbly cucumber slices, unceremoniously slathered with mayonnaise.  Still, I was confident that years of therapy had finally eradicated that association. No, I’ve decided that the reason for my anti-salad stance is actually twofold:  first, being basically lazy, I’ve always found it just so much work to wash, peel, and cut up all the veggies.  And second, my frugal (okay, downright cheap) nature has too often prevented me from taking advantage of time-saving salads-in-a-bag, as I’m unwilling to fork over my hard-earned discretionary spending money on those overinflated prices. You see my dilemma.

Still, once in a while I encounter a salad that does seem worth the extra effort, and today’s recipe came to mind.  Just like a fulfilling relationship, a bowl of delectable salad greens may take some work, but the result is eminently satisfying (hear that, HH?). Such is the case with several of our staple salads here in the DDD household, such as the Asian-Inspired Napa Cabbage Salad, the always-popular “Broccoli Delight” from my friend Caroline’s cookbook, or the super-easy and absolutely irresistible Raw Kale salad (“Ohh, Mum, that kale salad is our favorite!  Pick that one!”).  All these are delicious (and I’ll post recipes in future), but this time, I favored dandelion.

This simple, appealing salad accompanied our highly successful Savory Stuffed Crepes, which the HH and I enjoyed for brunch the other day.  Originally, this recipe called for the duo of pears and dandelion, but once, when I ran out of pears I subbed apples, and have now come to prefer the latter combination. 

I first tasted dandelion greens during my year studying nutrition, but had been daydreaming about them since my early twenties, when I read the novel The Bone People by New Zealand author Keri Hulme. In the book, the protagonist (an eccentric hermit whose lifestyle I sorely envied at the time) produced her own dandelion wine.  Well, if I can’t have the wine, I suppose the leaves will have to do. . . .but I would still love to sample that fermented version one day.

The salad marries a subtle, slightly sweet and creamy dressing with the bitter gusto of the dandelion.  Being high in calcium and other minerals, dandelions are a natural health food.  They’re also a great liver tonic, stimulating that all-important organ to filter the “bad” cholesterol out of the body.  And after all that booze last night. . . .well, come to think of it, I could have used a fresh juice with some dandelion leaves in it, too!

The recipe produces an abundance of fresh dressing that pools gently at the bottom of the bowl, perfect for sopping up with scraps of bread or for treating The Girls to a dressing-topped dinner. (“Um, Mum, did we hear that correctly?”) Overall, the salad is crisp, light, and very refreshing.  (“Didn’t you just say, ‘dinner,’ Mum?”) And it offers a fabulous array of minerals and vitamins. (“We were sure we heard ‘dinner.’ Isn’t that right, Mum?”)  And, as dandelion is both a high-antioxidant food and a leafy green, I’m submitting this recipe as my contribution to Sweetnicks’ weekly ARF/5-A-Day roundup (check it out on Tuesday evenings). It would make the perfect accompaniment to a healthy dinner.  (“Knew it!  Is it time yet?  So, when do we get some?“)

 Bittersweet Salad with Apples and Dandelion Greens

adapted from Enlightened Eating by Caroline Dupont

The recipe was created by the exceedingly talented Jennifer Italiano, owner of Toronto’s first all-raw restaurant and one of my personal favorites, Live Organic Food Bar (they’ve now expanded the menu options to include macrobiotic and some other cooked items). 

1/4 cup tahini (may be raw)

1 cup freshly squeezed orange juice (I’ve used reconstituted, and it’s not as good)

2 Tbsp. dulce (or other dried seaweed) flakes

1 Tbsp. freshly grated ginger root

1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon

1/2 tsp. curry powder

pinch salt

1 large bunch dandelion greens, large stems removed, chopped

2 pears or apples (I used fuji), cored and thinly sliced

1/4-1/2 red onion, thinly sliced

 In a blender or in a bowl and using an immersion blender, mix all ingredients thoroughly (until the seaweed is well pulverized).

In a large salad bowl, combine the dandelion, pear, and onion.  Pour the dressing over all and toss gently. 

Allow to sit for at least 10 minutes (up to 2 hours), to marinate.  Makes 4 servings (two in our house).