Diet, Dessert and Dogs

So: I’m going to make an effort to try to attempt to give it my best shot and strive to endeavor to maybe have a crack at liking winter a little more.  I mean, I can’t complain about it right through until April, can I? (okay, don’t answer that).  Well, with inspiration from Alicia’s “Happy Thoughts” at the conclusion of each of her blog posts, I decided earlier today to start the -23C (-10 F) day with three positives of my own.  Three reasons to smile first thing in the moring?  Well, that’s gotta melt away all that snow and ice anti-winter sentiment, right? And each one of these items, I daresay, is worth a cheer.

#1: Raw Raw for Our Winner!

I was delighted with the positive response to my most recent giveaway and am so glad that you all were as impressed with the company as I was.  And as I mentioned in the review, the oils are great for use in raw dishes. Raw raw!

Who won the box of four types of Olivado oils?  It was. . .

Number 87, reader Cathy!  Cathy wrote:

“I am impressed that they are involved in Fair Trade. And Their recipes look great!”

Congrats, Cathy!! Please email me at dietdessertdogsATgmailDOT com asap with your mailing address so I can contact the company to send you your prize! 

#2: Raw Raw for Cooking Classes!

This past weekend, my friend PR Queen and I attended a Raw (un)Cooking Class at the Making Love in the Kitchen Academy. . . yep, with none other than holistic nutritionist Meghan Telpner! 

[Meghan (on the right) and me.  Apologies for the blurry pic. . . darned pocket camera!]

It was great to meet Meghan and observe her über-enthusiastic and friendly demeanor in person.  With my recent resolve to continue eating healthfully and introduce in a more “clean” diet over the next few months, I had already decided to consume more raw foods.  And, as Meghan commented in her class, raw dishes are the perfect antidote to our natural inclinations during the chilly season, when we are more likely to overdo cooked and hot foods.  I knew I’d find some great inspiration for new raw recipes at the class–and I did! (Oh, and we got to spend 2-1/2 hours with like-minded people in Meghan’s cool loft, too).

Here’s the raw “cous cous” salad, one of the many dishes that we  scarfed down  gobbled up inhaled  enjoyed while there:

Raw Raw for Meghan’s cooking classes!

#3: Raw Raw for–Fennel!

[Raw fennel slaw with carrot, beets, ginger and black sesame seeds.]

It’s probably an understatement to say that my sisters and I “don’t like” fennel. 

The CFO, for instance, was once out to dinner with some friends when she ordered a chicken and pasta dish.  Here’s how the situation played out:

CFO:  I’d like to order this chicken and asparagus dish, but I need to be sure it doesn’t contain fennel.

SERVER: No, Miss, absolutely not.  No fennel.

CFO:  Okay, then, I’ll have this.

The dish arrives. The CFO takes one bite and her face screws up like a beach ball being turned inside-out. 

CFO:  Ugh!  Ptew!  Bleh!  This dish has fennel in it!!

FRIEND #1: No, it doesn’t.  I’m eating the same thing.  There’s no fennel in it.

CFO: I’m telling you, there is fennel in this dish.

FRIEND #2: Here, let me taste it.  (slurp, chomp).  Nope, no fennel.

CFO:  It has fennel!

FRIEND #3: Let me try.  (chew, chew, swallow).  There’s no fennel in that, CFO!  You must be imagining.

The others continue to eat their respective dinners, but the CFO won’t touch her pasta. The server walks by.

CFO:  Excuse me, server, but could you tell me if there’s any fennel in this dish?

SERVER: No, that dish is made with asparagus and peas.  No fennel.

CFO: Are you absolutely, one hundred percent sure? No fennel? No fennel AT ALL?

SERVER [looking a little less confident now]: Well, let me go ask the chef. [he trots off].

The server returns. 

SERVER: I asked the sous-chef and he said there’s no fennel added to this dish.  We use a pre-mixed spice mix, and we are sure there’s no fennel in that.  Besides, we only inclue about 1/4 teaspoon of the spice mix in the entire pasta sauce, which serves 50 people. . . .

CFO: Would you mind checking if there’s fennel in the spice mix, please?

SERVER [rolls his eyes a little too obviously]: Well, Miss, that would require pulling down the original box of spice mix, which is in our pantry behind five other boxes of rice and other supplies. . .

CFO stares at him without saying anything.

SERVER: Fine.  I will be right back. [trots off]

The server returns.

SERVER: Well, Miss, I am sorry to tell you that yes, there is fennel in that spice mix.

Vindication!  Luckily, the CFO isn’t allergic to fennel (or the conversation would have ended much earlier–like, when she keeled over); she just hates it. Needless to say, she returned the pasta. With a nose like that, I don’t know why she never went into the perfume business.

While I might not be as sensitive to its presence in spices, I am also not exactly a fan of the licorice flavor of cooked or dried fennel (which is odd, since I used to love black licorice–though in that case, I suspect, it had more to do with the exhorbitant amounts of sugar in the candy). When I read about Alysa’s “Hated Veggie Challenge,” I knew immediately that for me, the reviled veg in question would have to be the dreaded fennel bulb.

I’ve often been told that the raw form offers up a milder, sweeter flavor and a lovely crunch that can convert even the staunchest fennel-phobe.  And so, I went and bought myself some fennel and concocted a slaw.

I whipped up a creamy dressing that I thought would work with an anise-like flavor.  I paired it with grated beet and carrot for some sweetness and familiarity.  I sprinkled it with black sesame seeds for visual appeal.  And then–I took a tentative forkful.

And I loved it!  Whoo hoo!  Yay! Yippee! The fennel famine has finally ended! 

Perhaps my taste buds have matured since my 30s; perhaps they’ve merely dulled. Perhaps the beets along with the Asian-inspired creamy dressing concealed the major licorice flavor and I am just not recognizing it. For whatever reason, I found the slaw to be a very tasty, satisfying side dish that I would definitely make again.  Creamy, sweet and a bit salty from the miso, the ingredients here seemed to work harmoniously for a winning collaboration of tastes and textures.  Raw Raw for raw fennel!

Last Year at this Time: Nori Rolls with “Salmon” Filling and Spicy Ginger Miso Paste

Two Years Ago: The Biscuit and the Scramble (to Woo Your Rake) (biscuit is not GF; ACD Phase III and beyond)

Three Years Ago: Raw Almond-Veggie Pâté

© Diet, Dessert and Dogs

[Dinner Bowl with millet, sesame chard, grated carrot, avocado, grape tomatoes, and almond sauce.]

When I was about four and the Nurse was eight, my parents decided to have our portraits taken.  Now, in those days (we’re talking Dark Ages of technology, folks) no one had heard of digital photography, let alone Photoshop; you had to make due with photos as they appeared once developed, sometimes days or weeks after you’d snapped them in the first place. 

[Insalata Roma: Mesclun greens with roasted red peppers, toasted walnuts, "goat cheese" and balsamic vinaigrette.]

In those days, the style was to dress up your kids, have them sit still for an hour or so while a photographer (who had arrived at your home hours earlier, toting enormous cameras, lenses, black boxes, velvet throws and a host of other tools of the trade) cajoled your child into staring at the camera long enough so that he could snap fifty or so photographs.  Then, he went away and developed the photos, returning a few weeks later with the contact prints so that you could choose the one you wanted.

[Purple Monster I: gluten-free pancakes with blended berry sauce and tofu scramble.]

In order to simulate traditional artists’ portraits, the photographer blew up the black and white print to portrait size, then painted over the original with colored oil paints. These “portraits” were then hung in ornate gold frames, usually in the living room or family room.  Most of my parents’ friends had similar portraits hanging in their own homes (with their own kids in the frames, that is).  In fact, the  image of four year-old me, a Mona Lisa smile on her face and hair teased and flipped like a 50s housewife’s, wearing my favorite dress with the white princess collar and pale blue crinolines, still gazes over my dad’s sofa (with matching portraits of each of my sisters on either side).

[Purple Monster II:  Red cabbage slaw with green apples, toasted walnuts and poppyseed dressing.]

Why am I telling you all this, you wonder?  Well, occasionally there were kids who simply wouldn’t participate (I recall hours of silly voices, fuzzy bears and sparkly jewelry passing before the CFO’s tear-stained face on the day, years later, of her portait-sitting; after almost four hours, the disheveled photographer finally elicited a semi-smile, which is the shot that was ultimately used).  Worse, there were sometimes kids who were more than happy to oblige the photographer, but who, after all the developer was mixed, the paper bathed in the stop bath and the photos hung to dry, simply weren’t meant for such things.

[Gluten free pizza with pesto, zucchini, tomatoes, garlic and red onion.]

Well, sometimes, I cook food that tastes great, but for one reason or another, doesn’t give good blog. You know the meals–either you chomp them up too quickly, and by the time you remember to snap a pic, the meal is half gone; or else you snap and snap, eventually tuning in more to the rumbling in your stomach than the food on the table, and give up before you acquire that one useful photo.  In these cases, I usually file the pics away, assuming I won’t be using them. 

[Thai-inspired Coconut Curry Tofu Scramble with spinach, carrot, peppers and cashews.]

Still, some of those foods were really tasty.  And just because they’re not photogenic, does that mean they should miss out?  Heck, no! Just like the legendary blind date “with the great personality” (ah, if only I had a dime for all the times I was described in such a way), these dishes are really wonderful if you give them a chance. 

[Tuscan Bean Soup, adapted from this recipe--my version below.]

And so, I thought it might be fun to share some of the more homely–yet still appealing–foods I’ve made in the past few months.

Just don’t try to snap their portraits.

“Mum, you know, we let you snap our portraits all the time.  But if you want me to smile, well, how about a little cajoling with treats or a frisbee?”

Tuscan Bean Soup

This is a thick, filling, and comforting soup for cooler months.  I used the stems from the chard, but found their flavor a bit overpowering; I’d leave them off next time.  

1 pound (450 g) dried white beans (Great Northern, cannellini, or navy),  picked over and rinsed

2 Tbsp (30 ml) organic coconut oil

1 large onion, chopped

1 fennel bulb, stalks discarded and bulb chopped

4 cloves garlic, finely chopped

6 cups (1440 ml) vegetable stock or broth

2 cups (480 ml) water

1-2 bay leaves

1/4 tsp (1 ml) black pepper

1/2 pound (225 g) swiss chard (silverbeet), stems discarded and leaves chopped

1 tsp (5 ml) salt, or to taste

nutritional yeast for sprinkling on top

Soak beans in cold water overnight, or at least 8 hours.  Discard water, rinse the beans, and set aside.

In a large pot or dutch oven, heat the oil over medium heat.  Add the onion, fennel and garlic and sauté until the vegetables are soft, 8-10 minutes. Add the beans, stock, water, bay leaf and pepper and simmer, uncovered, until beans are tender, 45 minutes to an hour.

Stir in the swiss chard and salt to taste and continue to simmer, uncovered, stirring occasionally, until chard is tender, 8 to 10 minutes. 

Remove about 2 cups of the soup to a blender and blend until smooth, or use an immersion blender and blend briefly in only one or two spots so that most of the soup remains chunky.  Stir the blended soup back into the pot, simmer until heated through, and season to taste.  Garnish with nutritional yeast, if desired. Makes 6-8 servings.  May be frozen.

Last Year at this Time: Beans Nested on Greens

© 2009 Diet, Dessert and Dogs