Diet, Dessert and Dogs

The other evening, my friend Eternal Optimist and I went to see a movie (Friends with Benefits–surprisingly enjoyable, and I even liked Justin Timberlake in it!).  We both love watching the trailers before the film, but what struck us this time was how many of them were actually promoting remakes of old movies.  First was Planet of the Apes (okay, technically a prequel), followed by Straw Dogs.  Even the main attraction itself was sort of a remake (of When Harry Met Sally–oh, and pretty much every rom-com ever written). It got me thinking about the concept of remakes in general: you know, those revised, updated versions of established classics.

For instance, did you know that the movie King Kong has been made at least three times (seven if you count all the sequels and “Sons of–”)?  Dracula: seven times (not to mention and entire page on Wikipedia devoted to spinoffs and related films).  Invasion of the Body Snatchers: five times.  Heck, even Freaky Friday has had two remakes! And (in my humble opinion), each remake is just slightly less effective, less interesting, less engaging than the previous version.

I feel the same way about books made into movies, for the most part.  How many times have you read a book, then seen the movie, only to be bitterly disappointed?  (Though I must admit I’m really looking forward to The Help on the big screen; and most people would agree that The Godfather was a better film than novel). With novels, imagination allows for any manner of individual, idiosyncratic characters, appearances, voices, and so on.  When you see a movie, it’s all distilled into one face, one voice, one set of mannerisms–there’s no way you can envision anything that isn’t already right in front of you.

I have noticed that certain things, however, do improve with a little revision.  In the past, when I lectured at the college where I teach, I’d sometimes have to present the same course to three different groups of students. Each time I delivered the material, I’d think of a new detail to add, or an additional example to illustrate a point.  By the third class, I was really rocking, and those students always received the most detailed, most engaging lecture of the three. Similarly, working on refining a recipe usually leads to improvements each time you “remake” it.

When I switched to a gluten-free diet back in March 2009,  it seemed a little overwhelming to create tasty foods I could eat. Back then, it never entered my mind to “remake” any of the original recipes on this blog.  Eventually, once I was familiar with gluten free flours and low glycemic sweeteners, I began to play with some of the recipes in my cookbook, Sweet Freedom (and by the way–did you happen to notice who included my book in her “Going Vegan with Ellen” website?! Whooooopeeeee!!).  I’ve now re-made the Butterscotch Blondies, Fluffy Fruited Pancakes, Cinnamon-Walnut Coffee Cake, Chocolate Chip Cookies, Seed Jumble Cookies, and a few others using my all-purpose gluten-free flour mix in place of the spelt, and every one has come out great!

My sweet successes led me to experiment with other flour-heavy recipes as well, just to see what I could make of them.  Last week, I remembered these Chinese Scallion Pancakes, one of the most popular recipes on the blog (and one that the HH and I absolutely adored back in the days when we would meet for lunch during the workweek).  What if I could re-create those pancakes to taste just as appetizing as the original?  What if we didn’t need to frequent a restaurant to enjoy some chewy, salty, green onion-y flatbreads with our lunch?  What if I suddenly lost 15 pounds and had perfectly toned triceps (oops, sorry; wrong fantasy there).  What if–??

And so, I give you gluten free Chinese Scallion Pancakes.  I have to admit that the process was much easier than even I anticipated; I simply subbed a mix of all purpose flour and sweet rice flour (also called glutenous rice flour) for the spelt, and–presto–the recipe worked perfectly the very first time!  I’ve since made these two more times (just to be sure the recipe works, you understand) and they’ve come out beautifully both times. The exterior is browned and crisp; the interior is moist, delightfully chewy, with the murmur of caramelized green onion strewn here and there.  Great on their own, or with a spread or dip of your choice.

Now, if only I can figure out how to remake my triceps . . .

I’m submitting this recipe to Amy’s Slightly Indulgent Tuesdays, Cybele’s Allergy-Friendly Fridays event and my Wellness Weekend event this week.

Last Year at this Time: Sweet Freedom’s Chocolate Chip Cookies: Gluten Free! (ACD Stage 3 and beyond; gluten free)

Two Years Ago: Feeling Snacky: Crunchy Stalks and Branches (homemade version of of Mary’s Sticks and Twigs) (ACD Stage 2 and beyond; gluten free)

You Might Also Like: Cheela (Chickpea Pancakes) (ACD All Stages; gluten free)

© Diet, Dessert and Dogs

[Quick reminder: Don't forget to go here and enter my contest to win chocolate or treats from my upcoming cookbook! You've got until January 30th to enter.]

Over the past couple of years, the HH and I have developed a fairly steadfast routine: every Tuesday at mid day, we connect for a hefty serving of afternoon delight. (No, no debauchery, silly! Forget the cheeesy song.  I’m talking about afternoon culinary delight).  To wit, food. To wit, Japanese food. To wit, Sushi. 

As our own unique twist on “date night,” we have “date lunch”:  at a little sushi bar near the HH’s place of employ, he feasts on various species of marine life (well, I suppose that would more properly be “marine after-life”), and I enjoy some of the best vegetarian sushi I’ve ever tasted.  While clacking chopsticks, slathering wasabi and dipping into soy sauce, he reports on his recent work projects, while I regale him with anecdotes about The Girls’ antics. We eat, we laugh, we fight over who gets the last piece of pickled ginger, and then we kiss goodbye and go about the rest of our day.  It’s a lovely interlude in an otherwise bland workday. 

Well, a few weeks ago at the habitual time and place, I was devastated to discover that the establishment had unceremoniously changed owners.  Oh, the new folks are nice enough, but the distinctive sheen of the place had definitely tarnished. (The new vegetarian option consists of 8 pieces of cucumber and avocado maki.  Now, how could they possibly think vegetarians want 8 identical pieces of a single variety, when the HH gets a full dozen varieties of raw, slimy oceanic tidbits on his plate?).  Haven’t these people heard of the expression, “If it ain’t broke. . .”?   Harrumph.

Being fairly close to Toronto’s Chinatown North, we opted that day to try one of the many Asian restaurants in the vicinity instead.  I assumed I’d have no trouble finding plenty to eat. 

Well, you know what they say about assumptions.  (No? It’s even too puerile to repeat here.  But there are plenty of others out there who’ll tell you.) I sat down feeling peckish. Perusing the menu, I quickly discovered there was precious little I could consume save steamed veggies and rice.  (Not that there’s anything wrong wtih steamed veggies and rice, you understand, but I get plenty of those at home–and certainly don’t feel like driving halfway across the city and dishing out restaurant prices for someone else to throw them on a plate for me). 

Yes, every single dish contained at least one ingredient I can’t eat. The few animal-free options all contained wheat (another no-no). Listed under “Vegetable Dishes,” we had Vegetables and Ground Beef; Vegetables and Pork Stir-Fry;  Egg Noodles with Vegetables; Chicken and Shrimp with Vegetables.  Even the “Vegetable Dumplings” contained ground pork.  Argh!  (And another “harrumph,” just for good measure. ) Would I have to sit there starving*, I wondered, while the HH gorged himself on beef, chicken, and pork-laden vegetables?

 And then, I noticed these:  Scallion Pancakes.  Simplicity itself, these pan-fried cakes studded with rings of shiny green onion were cut into four triangles, served with a variety of dipping sauces.  Humble, yet divine; my mouth began to water. And then, I realized:  they were made with wheat flour.  Which I am not supposed to eat. 

True, my wheat sensitivity induces heartburn, bloating, and sometimes an achy stomach a couple of hours after ingesting it.  True,  wheat encourages my inflamed sinuses to close up shop entirely, forcing me to pant through my mouth like a dog in July.  True, any sane person in my situation would have passed on the wheat. Also true?  I was hungry.  Those pancakes were the sole item on the menu that appealed to me. I ordered them.

And, by golly, I loved them! (Well, for about 10 minutes, after which a volcano erupted in my chest, my stomach inflated like a beach ball, and my nasal passages sealed up like a mine shaft collapsing). 

After reading about Madhur Jaffrey’s World Vegetarian several times on Lisa’s blog, I finally picked it up from the library a few weeks ago.  And wouldn’t you know–right there, tucked near the back of the book, was a recipe for Chinese Scallion Cakes!  I was elated.  Since the entire recipe contains only five ingredients (two of which are salt and pepper), I felt pretty certain I could adapt these with (Ricki-friendly) spelt flour instead of wheat.  I did, and guess what?  They replicated the restaurant variety almost perfectly. 

The HH and I were so smitten with the results that we polished off two pancakes just on their own, with no accompaniments.  The second time round, we used them as a base for leftover dal, and they were spectacular.  I’m not generally a fan of salty foods, but something about the combination of salt and browned green onion (or would that be green browned onion?) is heavenly. 

I toned down the fat content by simply brushing the raw pancakes with olive oil (instead of following the original directions for filling a frypan with the stuff, as if drawing a bubble bath or something).  The results worked out pretty well, I’d say, as I couldn’t tell the difference in taste.

These boasted a crisp and even somewhat flaky exterior, with chewy insides punctuated here and there by the partially caramelized green onion.  My only regret is not having coarse sea salt in the house to sprinkle on top, as it would have made for a more photogenic bread.  (You’re actually meant to sprinkle the salt into the batter, anyway–but I forgot, so scattered it on top once the bread was cooked).

I’ve copied the recipe exactly as written because the method is quite particular.  It appears long and complicated, but once you’ve made them once, you’ll see how easy it is to prepare these wonderful savory cakes at home. I’d even whip them up for a quick lunch–except not on the days I meet the HH, of course. 

(Oh, and I made these again this morning, in honor of Chinese New Year.  Happy New Year to all who celebrate on Monday! )

*Clearly, not literally. But in terms of gustatory satisfaction, for sure.

Last Year at this Time: Sweet Potato Fries, Three Ways (and Miso Gravy)

© 2009 Diet, Dessert and Dogs