For someone who considers her typical days to be fairly mundane, it does seem I’ve got quite a soft spot for all things unconventional.
I’d trace this penchant for the eccentric back to my grade six art class with Miss Tarnofsky. Miss T (we all thought it should stand for “Terror”) was the strictest, most demanding and discerning teacher in our grade school, and we learned to tread carefully in her presence. With her short black bob (the bangs so severe they looked as if they’d been drawn with a ruler) and her terse directives in the classroom, all she had to do was raise an eyebrow in disapproval and even the most chatty of students would immediately be silenced. Her classes were always impeccably organized and presented; she was both an imposing disciplinarian and an admirable role model.
One day, Miss T asked us to produce a painting on a subject of our own choosing. I was determined to prove my artisitic prowess and gain her approval. I labored for the entire hour over my still life of a vase and flowers.
Meandering among the desks to assess our ouevres in silence, Miss T paused at the desk of SS, who was, even at the tender age of twelve, already christened the group’s science nerd (if only The Big Bang Theory had been broadcast back in those days, SS’s fate may have turned out very differently). Miss T grabbed the watercolor canvas and held it aloft as if she’d just rescued a kitty from a treetop. The rest of us stared incredulously at a large rectangle filled with muddy splotches, swirls and ragged brush strokes in various shades of grey. It looked like an oil slick floating atop a mud puddle.
“This is the best piece of artwork in the class,” she pronounced. “Unlike all the others, this one has feeling. It has a voice. It has personality.” She lifted it a little higher, as if to impress upon us the importance of her final proclamation: “This painting, boys and girls, exhibits a soul.”
Well, that was all I needed to hear. From that point onward, I felt totally validated searching for that kernel of soul within every nerd, misfit, outcast or rebel or iconoclast I encountered, seeking the unspoken connections between us.
Or maybe it was just written in my genes. As I grew older, I began to recognize my mom’s quiet idiosyncrasies, too. Almost daily, my mom would lament how, if only she were thinner (she was obese most of her life), she’d don the most colorful, ostentatious, tacky outfits she could find. Instead, she channeled her outlandish desires into her earring collection. On her way out the door on Saturday evenings, she’d hold up a pair of tomato-red-and-sunset-orange dangles, or fuscia and green dotted hoops, or sparkly faux-jeweled floral studs and ask my sisters and me, “Are these too young for me?” To which we’d readily respond with an energetic, “No, of course not!”. In the last photo I have of her, a month before she died, my mom is sitting in an armchair in The CFO’s apartment wearing a rainbow-striped tunic and massive, glittery silver hoops dangling from her earlobes.
At Canadian Thanksgiving a few weekends ago when we visited with my long-lost cousins, I discovered just how unconventional are the foods I regularly eat. What I (and, to some extent, the HH) now consider “normal” food, as I was reminded with a start that weekend, is still pretty bizarre to most “regular” eaters.
Nevertheless, I love my unconventional meals! When we celebrated on our own, the HH and I enjoyed a sumptuous feast, entirely comprised of healthy, whole-food offerings. I decided to re-create a traditional cassoulet, something my older sister and her husband have enjoyed as their Easter dinner for years. The traditional French stew is redolent with charcuterie, flageolet beans and a rich, savory broth. It’s also slow-cooked until the entire thing is saturated with fat from the flesh and bones of the meat–not exactly something that called out to me for reproduction. But when I considered the concept of a long-simmered, toothsome stew, that appealed mightily. So I went searching for vegan cassoulet recipes, and found one in Crescent Dragonwagon’sPassionate Vegetarian.
Although Dragonwagon’s original didn’t much appeal to me (it was replete with with several types of processed faux meat), I loved her idea of adding a full bulb of roasted garlic to render the sauce more robust and to add a touch of umami. Apart from that one addition, this recipe is entirely my own.
This stew is thick, filling, the sauce warm and comforting as a beckoning fireplace in winter. With just the right balance between hearty, meaty and saucy, this unusual rendition of the classic makes good use of my veg-based meat crumbles instead of all the processed stuff, and adds its own kick of umami from an unexpected source. I’ve decreased the baking time, too, as traditional cassoulet is an all-day affair (and I wanted you to have plenty of time to enjoy a big plateful of this delightful stew).
This cassoulet may just be the perfect dish to transform an otherwise mundane day into something exceptional. Enough to make you appreciate “unconventional” all the more.
And a Few Newsy Tidbits:
I’m delighted to be a guest poster on the xgfx blog this week! If you’re looking for a healthy (and perhaps unconventional?) dessert, check out my Marbled Halvah!
The ebook version of my cookbook, Sweet Freedom, is being offered at the incredible price of 50% OFF over at Vegan Cuts for the next 3 days! The sales have been brisk–they’ve already sold over 70% of the limited number of ebooks–so head over to get your copy pronto!
The voting for the SHAPE Best Blogger Awards continues until October 28th. I’d love your support to help bring a vegan, gluten-free blog to the top of their list! You can vote here.
Unconventional Vegan Cassoulet
Although it takes a bit of prep time, the final product is stellar. And since the recipe makes a hefty-sized stew, you can freeze leftovers for another meal at a later date. If you prepare the meat and cook your beans in advance, you’ll shorten the prep time considerably. I’ve toasted the bread crumb topping separately and pass it in a bowl for each serving as one would parmesan cheese with pasta, as I found it became too browned if baked on top of the casserole.
2 cups (480 ml) dry white beans (flageolet, Great Northern, navy), soaked in room temperature water overnight
3 cups (720 ml) vegetable broth or stock
1 bay leaf
1 full head of garlic, roasted (see instructions)
2 Tbsp (30 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
2 large onions, chopped
4 cloves garlic, chopped
4 medium carrots, trimmed, peeled and diced
1 large can (28 oz or 596 ml) diced tomatoes, with juice
1/2 cup unsweetened cranberry juice
10-20 drops unflavored liquid stevia, to your taste
1/3 cup (80 ml) chopped fresh parsley or 2 Tbsp (30 ml) dried parsley
1/4-1/2 tsp (1-2.5 ml) dried thyme, to your taste
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) dried marjoram
1/4 tsp (1 ml) ground cloves
1 tsp (5 ml) celery seeds
salt and pepper to taste
Optional Topping:
3 thick slices of your choice of gluten-free bread, or 2 gluten-free bagels
Make the meat: Prepare the meat as directed and set aside. If you’re making the entire cassoulet in one day, you can roast your garlic at the same time as the meat bakes.
Make the beans and sauce: Once the beans are soaked, drain and rinse them. Place the beans in a large pot with the broth and bay leaf. Bring to a boil, then lower heat, cover and simmer, stirring occasionally, until the beans are soft and the liquid is almost entirely absorbed, about an hour. Remove from heat.
Meanwhile, roast the garlic: keeping the bulb intact, slice across the top of all the cloves, exposing the top of each one. If desired, drizzle about a teaspoon (5 ml) olive oil on top of the cloves. Wrap the entire bulb in aluminum foil and bake in a 350F (180C) oven until the cloves are soft and beginning to brown, about 45 minutes. Remove from the oven and cool.
Heat the 2 Tbsp (30 ml) oil in a large frypan over medium heat. Add the onions, 4 cloves of garlic and carrots, and sauté until the onions are translucent, 7-8 minutes. Lower heat and stir in the tomatoes, cranberry juice, stevia, parsley, thyme, marjoram, cloves, celery seeds and salt and pepper. Take the whole bulb of roasted garlic and add the inside of each clove by squeezing it out from the bottom (as you would a toothpaste tube). Mash up the softened cloves so that they are blended into the sauce and stir them into it. Add the bean mixture (you can leave the bay leaf in it; remove it before serving the cassoulet) and stir gently to coat all the beans. Cover the frypan and allow to simmer for about 5 minutes.
Assemble the cassoulet: Preheat oven to 300F (150C). Grease a large (2 quart or 2 liter) casserole dish or spray with nonstick spray.
Place about half the beans and sauce mixture in the bottom of the casserole and spread evenly. Top with the entire recipe of meat crumbles, then spread the remaining beans and sauce over the top. Cover and bake for about an hour, until the mixture is bubbly and browned on the edges. If it becomes too dry, add 1/4 cup (60 ml) extra vegetable broth (and up to 3/4 cup or 180 ml). Serve with toasted bread crumbs sprinkled over each serving, if desired. Makes 6-8 servings. May be frozen.
For the breadcrumbs: Process the bread or bagels with 2 Tbsp (30 ml) olive oil in a food processor. Heat in a nonstick frypan over medium heat, stirring constantly, until the crumbs are browned to desired degree. Pass a bowl of crumbs at the table, with the cassoulet.
[You have blown me away with all your responses to my call for recipe testers--thanks to everyone who sent emails! I'll be taking names/email addresses until early next week, so if you're interested, please send an email to dietdessertdogsATgmailDOTcom with the subject line, "BREAKFAST TESTER." I'll get back to everyone later in the week!]
As I mentioned in my last post, the HH and I munched on some eggplant “bacon” with our Christmas Day brunch pancakes. Yep, another veggie-based faux meat from DDD! First it was beet pepperoni (or, as River dubbed it, “beetaroni”); then cauliflower meat crumbles, and now, bacon. What’s up with that?
I suppose it’s kind of ironic that the daughter of a butcher doesn’t eat meat. And isn’t it ironic that, considering I don’t eat meat, I have so many faux meats on this blog? It’s like I’m destined to create vegan counterparts to the items my dad sold in his work life. Ironic! It’s like my genetic makeup has preordained that my kitchen adventures would be intertwined with meats of some sort or another. It’s like–
It’s like rain, on your wedding day. A free ride, when you’ve already paid. It’s the good advice that you just didn’t take. . . and who would’ve thought–
(Oh, sorry, a different kind of irony, there. And hey, congrats on the new arrival, Ms. M)–
–It figures.
Maybe it’s the fact that at almost every meal, the HH whines about the lack of meat. Maybe it’s that our society has ingrained the concept of a savory, smoky, succulent serving of food alongside every grain, breakfast item or mashed tuber. Maybe it’s my competitive streak and I’m attempting to out-Bourdain Bourdain.
Or, maybe, I just like playing with my veggies.
Whatever the reason, I knew I had to try this as soon as I read about eggplant bacon in my new cookbook, Raw Food for Everyone by Alissa Cohen. Cohen’s version adds but 3 ingredients to the eggplant (liquid aminos, agave and cayenne) and is dehydrated for 12-15 hours. I wanted more complexity to enhance the naturally meaty taste and texture of eggplant. I knew I’d be too impatient to wait the full dehydrator time (even though my oven has a digital display that can be set at 115F) and so I just baked the strips in the oven at 325F. It took a while but in the end, I had crispy, crunchy “bacon.”
These strips were a perfect accompaniment to the light, fluffy pancakes and sweet plum sauce at our brunch. The HH enjoyed them just as much as I did, in fact, and ended up eating more than half the batch. Rather ironic, I’d say.
And in the “I-Am-So-Excited-I-Am-Doing-a-Happy-Dance-Right-Here-at-My-Computer” Department: DDD has just been named a finalist in the Canadian Food Blog Awards! You can check out all the finalists here. And thank you, all, once again for nominating my blog for the award, and for reading! You are the BEST!
Eggplant “Bacon” (suitable for ACD Stage 1 and beyond)
Diet, Dessert and Dogs (http://dietdessertndogs.com)
These strips would work really well on a pizza or other savory dish (such as an “ELT” sandwich–yum!). The slow-cook method allows the strips to dry out just enough that they retain a bit of chewiness in the center and crisp up on the edges. If you’ve got more time, try cooking them longer, but at an even lower temperature to maintain an even crispness throughout.
1 medium eggplant, peeled and then cut in rectangular strips about 1/8″ (3 mm) thick (cut them the full length of the eggplant)
1/4 tsp (1 ml) garlic powder (be sure it’s not garlic salt, or the strips will be mega-salty!)
5-10 drops stevia liquid, to your taste
1 Tbsp (15 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
1/4 cup (60 ml) water
1 Tbsp (15 ml) minced red onion (or grate it on the smallest holes of a box grater)
Preheat oven to 325F (165C). Line a rimmed cookie sheet with parchment.
In a square glass pan, mix together the Bragg’s, paprika, garlic powder, stevia, oil, water and onion; whisk well to create a marinade. Lay the strips in the marinade, turning each one over once to coat on both sides. Allow to sit at least 20 minutes or up to an hour, turning the stips over once or twice.
Remove the strips from the marinade (you will have some liquid left in the pan–hold on to it for later) and lay them in a single layer on the parchment. Bake for 25 minutes, then remove from pan and brush with any extra marinade. Return to the oven for another 25 minutes; remove from the pan, turn the strips over, and brush with any leftover marinade (you will have enough marinade for 3-4 brushings).
Repeat the cycle once more (a total of 25-50 more minutes), watching the strips carefully so that they become crisp and browned without burning. If some of the strips begin to brown too much, remove them from the cookie sheet and continue to bake the others until they are all ready. (Note: the crinkly appearance of the “bacon” in my photo is the result of baking on the parchment after it became wet from the marinade and crinkled that way–it was just lucky those ridges happen to resemble actual bacon!). Makes 2-3 servings. Best eaten immediately.
[As promised, here's the other recipe from our Thanksgiving dinner last weekend. Who says you can't have a delicious feast that's vegan, gluten free and anti-candida friendly? This meal is from leftovers night on day two: vegan tortière, roasted zucchini and savory steel cut oat-stuffed squash (for those who are interested, I've posted the squash recipe on the DDD Facebook page, here.)]
Answer: Alex Trebek.
Question: Who first taught Ricki how to make classic tortière?
Yes, you may know him as “Mr. Jeopardy,” that dapper, affable host with a voice as smooth as a duckless pond on a clear, sunny day. The navy-suited, oft-mustachioed supplier of answers in advance of questions, for $200, $400, $600 or Super-Jeopardy please, Alex. The slick, handsome, game-show staple–Alex Trebek.
Okay, so maybe he didn’t actually teach me how to make tortièrein person, but he was, indirectly, responsible for my learning all about the classic Quebeçois meat pie. You see, it’s a little-known fact that Mr. Trebek hails from Sudbury, Ontario, one of the very few cities in Canada where people actually speak French,** and he grew up with a Francophone mom (which would explain why his accent is always spot on when he announces those answers from the “Heroes of the French Revolution” and “Movies Starring Brigitte Bardot” categories).
Well, when I first moved to Toronto as a fresh-faced PhD student back in the 80s, I was (like most students) too cash-strapped to afford much in the way of extra-curricular books and magazines, far too impecunious (or was it just cheap?) to pay for my own copy of TV Guide each week. There was a free guide inserted every Saturday in The Toronto Star (the only day I purchased the paper), called the TV Times. And the last page of said TV Times was always devoted to a recipe contributed by some famous person: one week, it might be apple pie from Wanda’s Pie in the Sky (a popular Toronto bakery); another, it could be Caesar Salad from Jeannie Beker (host of Fashion Television, the seminal “let’s watch those barely-clad sticks on stillettoes trundle down the runway” show). And then, one fateful week in winter, it featured tortière, courtesy of Alex Trebek.
Apparently, tortière was a favorite dish from Trebek’s childhood back in Sudbury. (Answer: only after many years of trial and error. Question: did a famous game-show host really make tortière all on his own?). I tore the recipe from the booklet and slipped it into my “recipes to try” collection, a beige cardboard file folder that was by then already straining with countless slips of paper, clipped magazine pages and newspaper columns. (Answer: only my current “recipes to try” folder on my computer’s “Favorites” list. Question: is there anything even bigger than that original recipes file folder?). Having been born in Quebec myself (land of “‘Mon pays, ce n’est pas un pays, c’est l’hiver,” Celine Dion, real ski hills, sugar pie and the Habs), I felt it was my civic duty to some day try out the recipe. Even though it contained pork, and ground beef, and probably suet, I figured I’d give it a try at some dinner party and serve it to all the guys, just so I could say I did.
[No, I didn't pre-slice the crust; that crack is due to my less-than-stellar crust skills. Still tasted great, though!]
Well, the poor recipe languished there for years–nay, decades–until finally, after adopting a vegan diet and switching to the ACD 1-1/2 years ago, in a rare fit of organizing, I finally threw it away. (Answer: just this type of impulsive purging of old papers, bills, income tax returns or recipes. Question: What is one activity that Ricki inevitably regrets weeks, months, or even years, later?)
For some reason, this Thanksgiving, I really wanted to make a vegan version of tortière. Along with poutine, sugar pie, and that Chez Cora’s-inspired Quebeçois classic, cretons (mmm! Couldn’t you go for some right now?), tortière is certainly one of the quintessentially “Canadian” foods. How could I pass up the opportunity? And though I’ve never actually had a ”real” tortière, the HH assured me it’s delicious and that he’d love to have it as well. (Answer: Yours truly. Question: Who in her right mind would attempt tortière when a) she doesn’t eat meat and b) she’s never made a successful pie crust of any kind before, gluten free or otherwise?).
It took all of 8 seconds to decide that my latest veg-based faux meat (the one I used in this lasagna) would be the perfect base for this tortière. I mean, doesn’t it look just like ground meat? And wouldn’t it work beautifully with the spectrum of spices that were called for in the original pie? I even had a big container just waiting in the freezer! So I pulled it out, gathered my newly-printed tortière recipes from around the Internet, and began to plot how I’d reproduce it.
The first hurdle was the crust. I was browsing through Maggie’s yummy blog a few weeks back and had tried out her pie crust for the first time with great success. So, with a few of my own little changes (I just can’t resist), I used her recipe here. It worked perfectly! The filling, too, came together easily; basically, it’s just sautéed onions and garlic, spices, and the faux meat. Couldn’t be simpler!
Answer: This vegan tortière. Question: What will you want to rush out and try as soon as you finish reading this blog post–maybe sooner?
[I know: that filling really looks like meat. Eerie, isn't it?]
The final product is dense without being solid, the spice-warmed bits of the meat mixture offering a moist, savory chew lightly sandwiched between a perfectly flaky crust. Like a piece of really good shepherd’s pie, it fills you up without being too heavy; it felt as if we were spooning up authentically-prepared comfort food at a local French bistro. As we sat eating out meals, the HH seemed to be enjoying his immensely, savoring his pie between bites of gravy-laden mashed potatoes, brussels sprouts and stuffed squash.
“Does it taste like real tortière ?” I asked. He paused. He inhaled the wafting scent of cloves, thyme and cinnamon and took another bite. He cocked his head and glanced across the room as he chewed contemplatively.
“Well, I think you’d eat it and you might know it wasn’t meat, but you wouldn’t be sure what it was instead. . . it just tastes really, really delicious. I’d say this was one of your more successful dishes. I’d definitely eat this again.” Wow. Coming from the usually-reticent HH, that was praise enough for me.
My answer? ”You can have it any time you like, sweetheart.” And the question? Well, sorry, that’s personal.
**I know that statement was a shock to many of you. But even though Canada does have two “official” languages, 90% of the country doesn’t speak one of them. (Answer: Um, it doesn’t make sense to me, either. Question: Then why is every single product produced or sold in our country required to display labeling in both English and French?) Quel bêtises!
Vegan Tortière (suitable for ACD Stage 2 and beyond)
Although it takes time to make the faux meat for the filling, I tend to mix up two or three batches at a time and then freeze them for later use. If you have frozen “meat” available, the recipe is actually very quick to prepare. Don’t tell people what’s in this and have fun listening to their guesses!
Dough for an unbaked, double pie crust (I used this recipe)
1 large onion, chopped
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 Tbsp (15 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
1 to 1/4 cups (240-300 ml) vegetable broth or stock, depending on how moist you want the filling
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) dried thyme
1 tsp (5 ml) cinnamon
1 tsp (5 ml) herbs de provence (see here to make your own)
heaping 1/4 tsp (1.5 ml) ground cloves
ground pepper, to taste (see note)
1 batch (about 4 cups/1 liter) faux meat from this recipe
Preheat oven to 350F.
Prepare the crust: Fill the bottom and sides of a 9″ (22.5 cm) pie plate with crust and dock the crust by poking with a fork 6-8 times across the bottom. Roll out the top crust on waxed paper, into a circle about 1/2 inch (1 cm) larger than the pie plate all around and set aside.
Make the filling: Heat the oil in a large frypan (I used a cast iron pan). Sauté the onion and garlic in the oil over medium-high heat until onion is translucent, 7-10 minutes. Add the broth, herbs and spices and cook, stirring, for about a minute. Add the faux meat and stir everything together to blend.
Turn the filling into the unbaked crust and spread to fill the crust entirely (do not pack). Fold the top crust into quarters and transfer over the filling; unfold and pinch the edges to join with the bottom crust, crimping or using a fork to seal the edges if desired. Cut small holes in the top of the crust to allow steam to escape. Brush with unflavored soy or almond milk, if desired (this will help the crust brown as it bakes).
Bake in preheated oven for 50 minutes to one hour, rotating the pan about halfway through, until the crust is lightly browned. Allow to cool 10 minutes before cutting. Makes 6-8 servings. May be frozen.
Note: I didn’t need to add any extra salt because the “meat” was salted, as was the vegetable broth I used. However, if you used unsalted broth or like your food salty, feel free to add salt to taste.
This post is linked to Amy’s weekly event, Slightly Indulgent Tuesdays. which collects dishes that are made a little bit healthier. Check it out–or post your own recipe!
[Thanks, everyone, for your patience while my blog was undergoing some changes. They're all done now--and I'm happy to offer you all a "print recipe" button so you don't have to copy and paste any more! There are also more user-friendly subscribe buttons and comment threads. What do you think of them? And thanks again for all the great work, Alvin!]
One of the cardinal rules when throwing a dinner party is “don’t serve your guests a recipe you’ve never made before.” (Also, “don’t wear white when you’ll be cooking with beets”; “don’t seat ex-spouses next to each other at the table”; “don’t make Baked Alaska in July”; and “don’t leave the house without clean underwear”–oh, wait, that’s a different cardinal rule).
This past Saturday evening, I had the pleasure of cooking dinner for my friend Eternal Optimist and her friend. So what do you suppose I did, friends? Yep, exactly that; I served up something I had never made before. I wasn’t truly cheating on the rule, though, since I’d already cooked and eaten each of the dish’s components individually and knew they were, on their own, spectacular.
What did I serve? Why, the old classic: that Romance-infused, saucy, cheesy, meaty, stratified seductress, lasagna.
For the most part, I’m a pretty lazy cook. I prefer meals that are ready before I can say, “Elsie and Chaser, get out of the kitchen,” and I don’t enjoy multiple steps or extremely detailed instructions. Desserts and cooking for others is the exception, however.
When I used to throw a bazillion dinner parties during my Social Thirties, I’d spend almost the entire weekend cooking and didn’t mind a bit. Getting lost in the whir of the electric beaters as I whipped cream for a multi-layered meringue-and-buttercream affair, or methodically chopping six onions for various dishes, or zoning out to the crackling sizzle of veggies sautéeing always felt therapeutic to me. And while I’m not keen on lengthy preparation during the regular work week, when I whip up a special-request meal for the HH (for his birthday, or to say thanks for walking the dogs twice a day when my back is out, or to show my appreciation when he picks up baking ingredients from my favorite supplier, or to express gratitude for cleaning the house when friends are coming over–whoah, wait a sec, that HH sure does do a lot for me!), well, then a longer and more complicated process is even welcomed.
I’ll tell you straight off the bat, this lasagna falls into the “food-of-many-components” category. It’s not difficult per se, but it does contain many layers, and each layer requires its own prep. If you happen to have prepared marinara sauce at the ready (or a good jarred type you like), prepared pesto, and meat in the freezer, then you can throw it together in no time, and there’s no worr–
WHAT?!!
Did I just say, “MEAT”???!!!!
Now, now, calm down, people! It may look like meat, and it may taste like meat, but it is not meat. It is faux meat. This latest meaty substitute is just SO authentic, both in look and in flavor, that I simply forgot to specify–it’s entirely vegan! And SOY-FREE!
After creating a killer soy-free faux pepperoni a while back, I’ve been thinking about other ways to use vegetable bases to stand in for meat. It’s not that I’ve hopped on the “soy-is-no-good-soy-is-awful-soy-is-the-Lucifer-of-legumes” bandwagon or anything; it’s just that, sometimes, you want something that isn’t soy. Especially with this lasagna (since it already contains tofu in the ricotta cheese), I wanted a no-soy “ground beef.” And so, this ground meat was born.
When I served the HH a big hunk of the lasagna, his immediate response was, “Ths turstes jess lak urrglrr lrzgne.” (He was so impressed he forgot to swallow before speaking). To translate, “This tastes just like regular lasagna.” Whoopee! Considering that he consumes “regular” lasagna about once a month, his was high praise, indeed.
I’m incredibly pleased with this vegan meat, and am already dreaming up different uses for it. Scattered on nachos. Bound together with some flax eggs and cooked as burgers. Atop a huge mound of spaghetti arrabiata. Or even as the base in a vegan tortiere, like so:
The possibilities are endless. . . my head is spinning with dinner party plans already. Because, after all, the true cardinal rule is this: if it tastes great, eat it.
“Mum, are you sure that isn’t real meat? We’d be happy to help you taste-test your recipes. As you know, the cardinal rule for canines is, ‘if it’s not poisonous, eat it.’ Oh, wait, we might eat it anyway, even when it is poisonous. But don’t worry, I won’t go near that chocolate again.”
This recipe is my submission this week to Amy’s Slightly Indulgent Tuesdays event. Head on over to see what other healthy dishes are posted!
Meaty Spinach Pesto Lasagna (ACD Stage 2 and beyond)
A great dish to serve to friends and really impress those meat-eaters. Because the cheese mixture in this recipe was soy-based, I was pleased that the meat was based primarily on a veggie. Make a huge batch so that you can freeze the leftovers and enjoy another lasagna-based meal later on, without all the prep.
8-12 sheets lasagna, parboiled for 5 minutes (I used Tinkyada rice lasagna)
1 recipe tofu ricotta (I used the recipe from Cozy Inside; you could also use this one)
about 5 cups (1200 ml) homemade or prepared marinara sauce (for ACD, be sure it doesn’t contain sugar)
1 batch Spinach Pesto (recipe follows)
1 batch ground “meat’ (recipe follows).
Preheat oven to 375F (190C). Grease a 9 inch (22.5 cm) square pan and 8 inch (20 cm) loaf pan. (If you have a larger pan that equals the same area, please feel free to use it instead of two separate pans).
In a medium-sized bowl, fold the cheese and pesto together, just enough to combine (I left a few blobs of pesto visible here and there–you can mix it in completely if you wish). Set aside.
Line up the different ingredients so they’re ready to go, assembly-line style.
Cover the bottom of each pan with one layer of lasagna noodles. If necessary, overlap the noodles, but no more than 1/4 inch (.5 cm) to fit them into the pans (I broke them into smaller pieces to accomplish this).
Measure out about 1-1/2 cups (360 ml) of the sauce and set aside.
Using the remainder of the sauce, spoon a thick layer of sauce over the noodles in each pan (I used about 3/4 cup/180ml for the loaf, 1 cup/240 ml for the square pan). No noodles should be visible.
Divide the cheese mixture in half. Using one half of the cheese mixture, sprinkle it evenly over the sauce in each of the pans (I used about 2/3 of one half to cover the square pan, and 1/3 of one half to cover the loaf–in other words, 1/3 of the total in the square pan and 1/6 of the total in the loaf pan).
Divide the meat mixture in half. Using one half of the meat mixture, sprinkle it evenly over the cheese in each of the pans (I used about 2/3 of one half to cover the square pan, and 1/3 of one half to cover the loaf–in other words, 1/3 of the total in the square pan and 1/6 of the total in the loaf pan).
Repeat the layers one more time, using up all the cheese and meat. Cover with one more layer of noodles, then coat with the reserved sauce.
Bake in preheated oven for 45-60 minutes, until bubbly and browned on the edges. Remove from oven and allow to set for at least 15 minutes before cutting into squares. Makes 8-10 servings. May be frozen.
Spinach Pesto:
1 cup (240 ml) lightly packed fresh basil leaves
1/2 cup (120 ml) lightly toasted walnut halves and/or pine nuts (I used a combination)
2 large cloves garlic, chopped
1/2 cup (120 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
1 bunch (about 1/2 pound or 230 g) fresh spinach, trimmed and washed (stems included)
Combine all ingredients in a food processor until smooth. Use as is or mix with ricotta cheese. Will keep, covered, in refrigerator up to 3 days. May be frozen.
Meaty Veg-Based Ground “Meat”:
1 medium head cauliflower, trimmed and washed, broken into florets (about 1 pound/450 g after trimming)
2 cups (250 g) raw walnut halves
2 Tbsp (30 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
2 cloves garlic, minced, or 1tsp (5 ml) garlic powder
1/4 tsp (1 ml) dried sage
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) smoked paprika
1 tsp (5 ml) liquid smoke (for ACD Stage 1, use more smoked paprika)
1/2-3/4 tsp (2.5-3.5 ml) fine sea salt, to taste
2 Tbsp (30 ml) Bragg’s liquid aminos, soy sauce, or tamari (ACD Stage 1 use Bragg’s only)–omit for an entirely soy-free “meat”
Preheat oven to 350 F (180C). Line a large rimmed cookie sheet or rectangular pan with parchment, or spray with nonstick spray.
In a food processor, blend the cauliflower and nuts to a fine meal. Depending on how grainy you like your “meat,” it can be more or less fine; I made mine like a coarse cornmeal.
Transfer the mixture to a large bowl and add remaining ingredients.
Using your (clean) hands, knead everything together thoroughly, until the grounds are uniformly coated.
Turn the mixture into the pan and spread out evenly. Bake for 45 minutes and up to 1 hour 15 minutes (it will depend on the size of the pan and how thick the mixture is when you first begin to bake it), stirring after 30 minutes and then every 15 minutes after that, until the meat is dry and brown (if the layer underneath comes up looking wet and white–as cauliflower tends to do–then you need to keep baking). The grounds will begin to separate and intensify in color as they roast.
Once the meat is cooked, you can cool, package, and freeze it for later use, or use it right away. Will keep, up to 3 days, covered in the refrigerator. May be frozen.
