[In a bit of unrelated news, I'll be doing a guest post on Amy's blog tomorrow. Hope you can drop by and check it out!]
[Looks pretty decadent, doesn't it? Tastes that way, too.]
Okay, so who WAS that woman who wrote my last post?! I do apologize if I alarmed any of you (though I don’t think I went so far as to frighten the horses ). I guess something about that particular topic hit a nerve for me. But wow, did that post ever spike my blog’s traffic! My Google Analytics stats shot through the roof! And man, look at all those comments! Well, I guess we all know how I’ll be choosing my blog topics from now on, hmmmnn? Ahem.
Seriously, thanks to everyone for your insights, reactions, commentary! I am really loving the exchange of opinions and all the differing perspectives on the topic. I think peeking in on the IFBC sparked for me a renewed interest in ideas for ideas’ sake –it felt sort of like what grad school was supposed to be. So, once again, thanks. And it’s not too late to contribute your own ideas about why and how we blog–join the conversation here.
But now. . . it’s time for us to head back from summer holidays and dive back into the daily routines once again–which means (for me, and for many of you)–back to school.
When I was a kid, the beginning of September was always a bittersweet time. After two whole months of sleeping until I awoke; throwing on shorts and sneakers and a T-shirt before wandering outside to meet up with friends; reading books while lounging on the grass in our backyard or writing furiously in my journal, the sun warming the sheets of paper as I wrote; ice cream on demand; or simply soaking in the freedom of “no fixed schedule”–the end of August marked the shift to autumn and a return to predictability.
I didn’t particularly look forward to the the stuffy classrooms, the mercilessly rigid desk chairs, the overloaded backpack, the trek home at lunch or long afternoon hunched over my textbook, pencil in hand, reading from a book that (more often than not) didn’t interest me.
On the other hand, there were some high points in returning to the classroom. September also felt like a fresh start, that moment when you’ve just stepped out of the shower, scrubbed and still glistening before you decide what to wear that day. It was an invitation for self-renewal and embracing new identities, a chance to rectify personal slights or last year’s mistakes. New shoes, a new haircut and (my favorite part) fresh, pristine pages of new notebooks–those were the beckoning aspects of returning to school.
Perhaps because I work in academia, September still feels like the beginning of the year to me. Yet it’s also a tacit “start date” in many other contexts as well: television shows (Hey, Ellen! How about that guest spot this year?); arts and cultural events (you wouldn’t believe how many TSO, TIFF or AGO brochures have landed on our doorstep lately–and, just an aside, does EVERY Toronto-area event use a three-letter acronym?), and even religious holidays (Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish new year, usually occurs around September).
I mentioned in a previous post that I had a few exciting giveaways up my figurative sleeve–and now that we’re on the threshold of back-to-school, what better time to hold them? During the past couple of months, I’ve had the pleasure of sampling and experimenting with an array of new ingredients and products, some of which were truly exceptional.
So now, I’ve chosen the best of the lot–the ones I liked most and think you will, too–and will be giving away one at a time over the next few weeks.
See? Back to school can be fun!
For a great ACD-friendly Fudge Recipe and to enter the first in the “Back to School Swag” series of giveaways, click here!
[You won't believe what's in this fudge. . . or how easy it is to make!]
[Before I launch into today's post, I wanted to thank everyone for their kind wishes for poor, accident-prone Elsie! Our Number One* Girl is doing much better, thanks--still limping a little, but infinitely less than that first scary evening. While her gait has improved, her mood hasn't quite, as she has to stay behind with boring Mum every morning while Dad and Chaser go romp in the park. But one more week, and she'll be on the walking trail again, too. ]
Remember when you were a kid and you yearned to have the same toys (or clothes, or packed lunches) that all of your friends had? And in an effort to teach you deferred gratification, your parents would respond to your imploring by saying, “And if Susie’s parents let her jump off the Golden Gate Bridge, would you want to, too?” In our house, it was different. If one of my sisters or I requested something that all of our friends already had, my parents’ perfunctory response was, “NO.” (My Dad’s idea of deferred gratification was “deferred until you can afford to pay for it yourself.” Hmm. May explain why I started babysitting at the ripe old age of eleven).
Since I could never cajole my parents into getting me what I wanted anyway, I developed a determination to stand apart from my friends and covet less popular items. I couldn’t very well not like The Monkees, of course (you couldn’t be a kid in the 60s and not like them), so I worshipped Mickey instead of Davy (totally radical, I know). Like all my friends, I bought (with my babysitting money) the sought-after designer jeans–you know the ones, that proclaimed their exclusivity loudly and clearly with a playing-card sized label just above the fanny cheek–and then I boldly cut off the label (can you imagine? I was so rebellious that way.).
In university, I inevitably fell for the slightly oddball character, someone who, let’s imagine, had been born to a French hooker in Sudbury, had been orphaned at age 12, had raised their younger sister on their own, had worked as a miner and was now studying to be a customs officer. Oh, wait. That actually was my first boyfriend. Later on, I fell for the boyish charms and rapier wit of Rocker Guy (he of the black leather pants). And let’s not forget the HH, the human synthesis of artist genius and science geek, man of few words (and most of those requiring a dictionary to understand), reluctant dog dad turned canine caretaker extraordinaire, and simultaneously the smartest, funniest, and most eccentric human being I’ve ever met.
The food-blog world has its own trends, too. For a while there, kalechipswere (or maybe still are!) all the rage. There was a time when I felt as if faux tuna salad was on almost every blog I read. Or how about the now-ubiquitous cake pops? And where would we be, tell me, without pumpkin and/or almond butter-laced oatmeal? (One of my favorite trends, though not about food per se, was the “blog meme.” When I was tagged for the ”25 Random Things About Me” meme, I got carried away and wrote 101 things. As I mentioned at the time, I guess that will take care of the meme for a while!).
Well, when I saw Mihl’s recipe for Yeasted Zucchini Pie with Herbed Pepita Cream Cheese Filling, my ten year-old self was resurrected and I immediately thought, “I want that, too! Yum!!” Clearly, with its hunter green shellac and creamy alabaster interior, zucchini is the hipster veg on the culinary scene for August, 2010. And the ingenious mix of ingredients in Mihl’s distinctive filling fulfilled my inner desire for creative departure from the norm.
Since the crust was yeast-based, I knew immediately that I couldn’t make it as originally presented. However, I had seen a quiche a while back with a shredded potato crust and thought that would pair brilliantly with the herby filling. After preparing the crust, I discovered that I was out of firm tofu, so used MoriNu as the stand-in (just to be different, I suppose). It worked beautifully, resulting in a slightly creamy, slightly grainy filling with a subtly sour undertone, like ricotta or cottage cheese. The inclusion of basil worked beautifully with the ground pepitas. And while I loved the trendy design formed by the zucchini slices atop the pie, I think that next time, I’ll simply chop the zucchini and fold it into the cheesy mixture before baking, both for convenience and for a more varied texture.
The finished pie reminded me of savory cottage cheese pies my mother used to make–rustic, hearty, and reminscent of late afternoons in the country. Paired with a simple Caesar salad, it made a pleasing meal as the HH and I sat at the kitchen table bathed in incandescent glow of late summer, shimmering interstices of sunlight peeking through the shutters.
“Well, it’s a bit unusual, but it’s good,” the HH remarked. Takes one to know one, I thought–and just kept on eating.
* in the sense of, “the one that preceded Number Two (Number Two being Chaser) and not in the sense of, “the one we like the best.” Of course I could never favor one of my Girls over the other–duh!
And Also:
There are a few more happenings here on DDD that I’m excited about and wanted to share before I sign off!
First of all, you can still contribute to this month’s SOS Kitchen Challenge, until August 31st! If you’ve got a minty recipe that you’ve made recently or one you’re working on, please consider adding it to the SOS page for August!
I’m also gearing up for some really cool Back-to-School Giveaways on the blog over the next few weeks. I’ll be talking about some products that I’ve tried and really enjoyed, along with the usual recipes and chance to win some great goodies for yourselves. Whoo hoo!
Speaking of giveaways, if you didn’t win a free copy of my latest ebook, Desserts without Compromise, you can still buy it at a great discountuntil the end of the month. Choose either ebook on its own, or pair them together and save even more! For full details or to purchase, check here.
And finally, I’m always tickled when I see that someone else in blogland has tried one of my recipes. So I thought I’d share some of them here with you! And if you’ve made a DDD recipe in the last little while and I’ve missed you here, please email (at dietdessertdogs AT gmail DOT com) to let me know so I can add your link to the roundup next time!
I’m sending this recipe off to Amy of Simply Sugar and Gluten Free for this week’s Slightly Indulgent Tuesdays–it’s the One Year Anniversary edition, too! (Congrats, Amy!). Go check out the other great entries in the event! Oh, and don’t forget to hop back to Amy’s blog on September 1st–I’ll be guest posting that day!
Zucchini Pie with Potato Crust (ACD Stage 2 and beyond)
2 pounds (900 g) russet potatoes, cut into large chunks
2 Tbsp (30 ml) finely ground flax meal
2 Tbsp (30 ml) chickpea flour
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) fine sea salt
1/4 cup (60 ml) vegetable broth or stock
Filling:
1/2 cup (60 g) pumpkin seeds, lightly toasted
2 cloves garlic
3 green onions, cut in chunks
1/3 cup (15 g) lightly packed chopped fresh basil
1 package (12 oz or 375 g) extra firm silken tofu (such as MoriNu)
6 Tbsp (90 ml) vegetable broth or stock
1 Tbsp (15 ml) apple cider vinegar
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) fine sea salt
1 tsp (5 ml) granulated onion or onion powder
1/4-1/2 tsp (1-2.5 ml) smoked paprika, to your taste
2 tsp (10 ml) light miso
2 tsp (10 ml) dijon mustard
1/8 tsp (.5 ml) nutmeg
1 Tbsp (15 ml) chickpea or soy flour
pepper, to taste
2 medium zucchini, washed, trimmed and sliced
olive oil, if desired
Preheat oven to 375F (190C). Line a 10 inch (25.5 cm) tart pan with parchment and spray sides, or spray with nonstick spray.
Prepare the crust: place potato chunks in boiling water and boil just until crisp-tender, about 5 minutes. Drain and rinse with cold water. Allow to cool completely, then grate the potatoes and place in a large bowl.
To the bowl, add the flax, chickpea flour,salt and broth and mix well with your hands. Using the back of a rubber spatula or a 1/3 cup (80 ml) measuring cup, press the potato mixture evenly into the bottom and up sides of prepared pan. Bake in preheated oven for 15-20 minutes, until the top is dry. Remove from oven and reduce heat to 350F (180C).
Meanwhile, make the filling: In the bowl of a food processor, blend the pumpkin seeds, garlic, green onion and basil until you have a paste. Add remaining filling ingredients except for zucchini and olive oil and process again until smooth. If desired, roughly chop the zucchini and fold into the filling at this point. Pour over the crust and smooth the top.
If using zucchini slices, arrange them over the filling in a decorative fashion. If desired, brush with olive oil.
Bake in preheated 350F (180C) oven 50-60 minutes, rotating the pie about halfway through, until the crust is browned and the zucchini has begun to brown. Allow to rest 5-10 minutes before serving. Makes 8 servings. May be frozen.
First: Thanks to everyone who entered the Desserts without Compromise giveaway over the weekend! I’m delighted by the positive response and will be announcing the winners later today (once I choose the names). If you’d like to purchase a copy of the book, the introductory sale is on until the end of the month–you can purchase either ebook at a discount, or save even more if you buy the package of both together! Check here for details.
And now, before I get to today’s recipe, I thought it would be a good time to paraphrase Oprah (because, really, is there ever a bad time to paraphrase Oprah?). And this is what I want to say:
Mothers, I Salute You.
As someone who has never had the experience of motherhood, I can only guess at what it is like. But this past weekend, I had a teeny glimpse. You see, after an ostensibly normal Friday, the HH and I were sitting enjoying dinner (a fabulous raw kale salad with tangy dill dressing) when Elsie limped into the room. Well, perhaps “limped” isn’t quite the correct term; it was more like “writhed in or agony” or “seized with exquisite pain.” You see, the poor furry girl appeared to have lost the entire use of her back leg–she could not even touch the tip of her paw to the floor, her leg hanging like a cracked branch on a lightning-struck tree as she hobbled over to where we were (pain or not, she wasn’t going to miss out on post-prandial leftovers) on three legs.
How had this happened? More importantly, how had I let this happen? I was racked with guilt. Had I overtaxed her with our extra-long walk that afternoon? Had she stepped on a piece of rusty metal when romping in the pond with Chaser? Had I somehow missed a shard of broken glass on the sidewalk?
But it wasn’t my guilt that I associate with motherhood, no, no! It was the heart-wrenching, excruciating torment I experienced at watching my beloved girl suffer. The helplessness to relieve her pain felt unbearable. It was like the anticipation of knowing your finger is headed right toward the whirring blade of the meat slicer as you slide uncontrollably across the floor. Like having to walk across a vat of deadly scorpions. Like being forced to watch every single Julia Roberts film ever made, in a sadistic marathon session without any intermission (okay, maybe I’m exaggerating; the Julia Roberts thing isn’t quite the same degree of torture as the other two. I mean, you can still live without a finger, right?)
I felt so bad for the poor thing, in fact, that I badgered the HH into carrying her up and down the stairs every time she had to go outside, for the remainder of the day. All this while Elsie, oblivious to the pathos of her situation, soldiered on as if she had always had only three good legs. I, on the other hand, was a whimpering mess. And so, I reiterate: Mothers, I Salute You.
(In the end, we rushed her to the vet first thing Saturday morning and found out she had somehow torn a ligament. Two weeks of pillow rest should repair it. Now we just have to convince Chaser to leave her alone that long.)
She may be stoic, but poor Elsie does seem a bit depressed about it all, too:
“Sigh. Mum, why do I have to stay here at home while Chaser gets to go play in the rain? And why am I so accident-prone?”
I decided to stay indoors and keep my furry Girl company while the HH took Chaser for a trail-walk. Thinking about how to use up the last of our mint (and contribute another dish to this month’s SOS Kitchen Challenge, which continues until the end of the month) led me to Thai rice paper rolls.
Many moons ago during our first year as a couple, the HH and I took a Thai cooking class together. How do I know it was our first year together? The HH agreed to take a cooking class with me. (A guy is never more willing to do “chick” things than during the first few months of a relationship). Anyway, we made a whole bunch of stuff I’ll probably never eat again–Coconut, Ginger and Chicken soup; Red Curry Chicken; Pad Thai–but one thing I do remember is the raw rice paper spring rolls. Man, were they good. And the beauty of the dish was that (a) they were incredibly quick and easy to make; and (b) you could fill them with pretty much anything you liked.
I was transported back to the memory of that evening a few days ago when I came upon Cheryl’s post on these tasty rolls. I decided immediately to concoct the rolls again and, in the process, “adopt” Cheryl (whose blog is Gluten Free Goodness, full of healthy GF recipes and Cheryl’s upbeat approach to better health) for the monthly Adopt a Gluten-Free Blogger event. The event asks you to choose a GF blogger and reproduce at least one of their recipes. This month, Shirley of Gluten Free Easily is the host.
I did my rolls ever so slightly differently from Cheryl’s, omitting both the napa cabbage and the sprouts, and using rice vermicelli as a filler instead. But really, you could add pretty much any chopped veggies or fillers you like (my favorite combo would be strips of tofu, shredded carrot, red pepper, rice vermicelli, with a touch of cilantro, basil and mint) as long as they can be cut into matchsticks or grated and rolled into the wraps.
As Cheryl points out, the method is actually pretty simple once you get the hang of it. I found that setting out all the ingredients and a bowl of warm water before starting the process was essential for success. I dipped my rice paper wrappers for only about 8 seconds, then allowed excess water to drip off before rolling them. The wrappers then absorbed a bit more of the surface water as they were being rolled, resulting in a final texture that was perfect.
I also figured out how to create pretty patterns with the cilantro, mint or basil leaves; simply lay them down first against the wrappers, then top with your rice vermicelli before piling on the other ingredients. This creates a white “background” for the leaves. Easy, and impressive! These would make great appetizers or a first course for a Thai meal.
For Cheryl’s original recipe and method, see her post here. I served mine with an almond-butter based dipping sauce, based on the one from the ReBar restaurant (recipe here), using almond butter instead of peanut butter, Bragg’s instead of soy sauce, and stevia instead of honey.
Thanks, Cheryl, for the inspiration! The rolls made a satisfying, simple and speedy lunch. (“Mum, you know it’s not nice to mention ‘speedy’ when I’m pillow-ridden like this. But I’d be happy to help you clean up that almond sauce, if you like.”)
Buy the book this week at the special introductory price of $6.95 (regular price $9.95)–or, buy both ebooks (the previously published Anti Candida Feast plus Desserts without Compromise) for just $12.95!
For more details (and to buy one or both books), click here!
And now for the giveaway. . . . .
The contest is now closed. Thanks to all who entered!The contest is open until midnight, Sunday, August 22, 2010, at which time I’ll randomly choose the five winners. Open to everyone, worldwide! Yay!
Because I’m so excited to share these recipes with you, I’m giving away FIVE copies of the ebook to celebrate its launch! To enter the giveaway, simply leave a comment at the end of this post telling me which dessert appeals to you the most! For extra entries, you can follow me on twitter, “like” the Diet, Dessert and Dogs fan page , or retweet this giveaway on twitter, mention it on Facebook, or blog about it (for the last three, please link back to me, either at my twitter name, @rickiheller, or leave a comment on the FB wall, or a link to this page in your blog post). Then please come back here and leave a separate comment for each entry–I know it’s a lot of steps, but it does help me to count out the entries more easily.
When my sisters and I were kids, my parents used to play Poker every Saturday evening with their group of friends. They’d play from around 7:00 to 9:00 PM, stop for coffee, snacks, and a gabfest, then continue with the cards for another hour or so before everyone headed home.
The group would rotate hosts, so that our abode was Poker Central once every month or so. I always secretly dreaded when my mom’s best friend hosted (since we kids had to tag along–babysitters were too expensive) because she always served “salmon salad,” consisting of one can of salmon that had been hastily mashed with some Miracle Whip–skin, bones, and all–and it grossed me out completely (my mom, you see, would gingerly scrape the skin off the flesh and then carefully extract the soft needle-like bones and vertebrae before mashing up her salmon salad–with real mayonnaise, I’ll have you know. It wasn’t until years later, living on my own, that I discovered my mother, and not her friend, was the anomaly.)
Canned salmon aside, the hosts also always served a generous assortment of desserts, and we kids took full advantage of our parents’ reluctance to berate us in front of friends, helping ourselves to at least one of each sweet when they hit the table. And in the realm of baked treats, my mother reigned supreme.
Despite what my teenaged self perceived as a sappiness and lack of self-confidence in my mum (which, as it turned out, was actually sappiness and lack of self-confidence), I always admired her ability to whip up a Farmer’s Cheesecake (one of my father’s favorite treats), cinnamon coffee cake or her (legendary, among her friends and our family) Chiffon Cake.
Almost a foot high and with an airy, spongy crumb, speckled throughout with shards of grated chocolate, the chiffon cake became Mom’s signature dish, highly anticipated at those weekend card games, expected at every holiday dinner, even transported across borders when we visited our American cousins, loosely swathed in aluminum foil and packed between multiple pillowy layers of paper toweling within not one, but two cardboard boxes, as if she were transporting blood samples, or a bomb.
The other staple in my mother’s baking repertoire was the classic chocolate chip cookie. Every year during the holidays our kitchen turned into a cookie lab where my sisters and I would help Mom try out a dozen or so new cookies from the pages she’d torn out of women’s magazines or from her cookbooks. But Chocolate Chip Cookies were the regular Joe throughout the rest of the year, consumed on Sundays when we ate dinner with my aunt’s family, who lived upstairs; when we got home from school on weekday afternoons; or during those weekly Poker games.
Ironically, it was my dad’s Great Aunt Yetta, and not my mother, who taught me to bake my first batch of my favorite cookie. Great Aunt Yetta (about whom I wrote here), took over our kitchen the summer she lived with us (her planned two-week visit mysteriously morphed into a month, then six weeks; of course I thought my mum was rather sappy to let her stay, but for some unknown reason, her husband didn’t seem to miss her).
I floated through that summer in Chocolate Chip Cookie nervana, baking them at least ten times during those six weeks. I’d savor the raw dough, of course, even before placing it in mounds on the cookie sheets (still the best part of the procedure, in my opinion). Then I’d relish the just-baked treats, barely cool enough to handle, their edges crisping up even as the centers remained soft, dense and moist inside, with chips barely holding their shape, yet still warm enough to ooze onto your fingertips when you bit them.
Classically sweet and chewy, with a buttery perfume of brown sugar–what could be better than chocolate chip cookies?
Of course, there was no question that I’d include a healthier version of the childhood classic when I decided to write my cookbook, Sweet Freedom, a couple of years ago. Lacking the original refined sugar, fat and eggs of the prototype, the cookbook version is nonetheless dense inside and slightly crispy at the edges, boasting a combination of dates, Sucanat and maple syrup to stand in for the original eggs and butter. After many trials, I was finally pleased with the recipe–and the cookies regularly sold out in the health food stores at which they were sold.
I planned to demonstrate how easy it is to adapt conventional recipes to gluten-free versions by taking the original Sweet Freedomrecipe and simply swapping gluten free all-purpose flour for the spelt. As often happens, I found that a one-for-one swap (despite the instructions on the bag) doesn’t always work out as planned. Accordingly, I added just a bit of brown rice flour, for heft–and, what do you know–it worked perfectly! I couldn’t have been more pleased with the result.
I’m happy to say these cookies are as good as the ones I used to bake, all those years ago. The HH loved these, as did the cooking class participants. Indeed, these are chocolate chip cookies you’d be proud to serve to family and friends.
Just please, promise not to serve them with canned salmon.
This is my submission this week to Amy’s wonderful Slightly Indulgent Tuesdays event. Why not submit something healthy of your own?
And a little reminder. . . Sweet Freedom is still on sale for one more week, at 30% off retail price (including taxes and shipping)! Check this page to learn more or to order.
1/2 cup (90 g) Sucanat or unrefined evaporated cane juice
1/4 cup (60 ml) pure maple syrup
2 Tbsp (30 ml) finely ground flax seeds
1 Tbsp (15 ml) pure vanilla extract
1/3 cup (80 ml) coconut oil at room temperature
1-1/2 cups (360 ml) all purpose GF flour (Bob’s Red Mill)
1/2 cup (75 g) brown rice flour
1 tsp (5 ml) baking powder
1/4 tsp (1 ml) baking soda
1/4 tsp (1 ml) xanthan gum
1/4 tsp (1 ml) fine sea salt
1/4 tsp (1 ml) cinnamon
2/3 cup (140 g) chocolate chips
Preheat oven to 375F (190C). Line two cookie sheets with parchment paper, or spray with nonstick spray.
Pour 1/2 cup boiling water over dates in a small bowl or glass measuring cup so that all dates are covered. Let sit for 8-10 minutes, until dates are soft. Do not drain.
Place dates with any leftover water, Sucanat, maple syrup, flax seeds, vanilla and coconut oil in a the bowl of a food processor and process until smooth. Allow to cool while you prepare the dry ingredients.
In a large bowl, sift together the all purpose flour, rice flour, baking powder, baking soda, xanthan gum, salt and cinnamon. Whisk to blend well. Add the wet mixture (be sure it’s at room temperature) and chocolate chips and mix well. You should have a very stiff but slightly sticky dough.
Using a small ice cream scoop or teaspoon, scoop dough onto cookie sheets. Wet your palms and flatten the cookies to about 1/4 inch thick.
Bake in preheated oven for 8-11 minutes, rotating sheets halfway through, until tops are dry and begin to puff (the cookies should still be soft). Allow to cool completely before removing from sheets. Makes 24-28 cookies. May be frozen.
After reading through the comments on yesterday’s SOS Challenge reveal post (this month’s ingredient is MINT and Kim and I can’t wait to see what y’all cook up with it!), I realized I may have sounded perhaps a wee bit whiney about everything that’s going on in my life right now. I certainly didn’t mean to imply that I was on the precipice of a nervous breakdown (well, no more than usual, anyway)
It’s true, I’ve got a lot going on right now. But of course, I am also fully aware that it’s (mostly) of my own doing, too, as I keep adding more and more activities to my schedule. Like so many women out there (and let’s face it, this is primarily a problem for women), I must learn to say “no” more often. For my own physical and mental health. For peace of mind. For the others I care about in my life (because what good will I be to them if I’m a babbling puddle of melting goo?).
(“Um, Mum, sorry to have to break it to you, but you have no trouble saying “NO!” to us. None whatsoever. And anyway, what’s so wrong about gently picking that leftover chocolate cupcake out of the garbage? You and Dad weren’t going to eat it.”)
In fact, my overflowing schedule was actually pivotal in this month’s choice of SOS ingredient; requesting mint-based recipes was really a selfish choice on my part. After considering the overflowing patch of mint at the side of our house, I decided that I needed some creative inspiration to find recipes that would use it up. And so, I’m counting on all of you to save me by providing a huge array of awesome recipes! So settle back, settle into your chef persona and start creating–use fresh, dried, or mint extract–your choice!
In the meantime, here’s my mint ice cream recipe, as promised. This is something I created so that those of us on the ACD (or with dairy, egg, gluten or sugar dietary restrictions) can enjoy ice cream in the summer, too. Imagine: no more silent (or, in my case, not so silent) suffering while your honey and friends gobble up the “real” thing! This verseion is easy and, if you’ve got a food processor, really quick, too. The texture is silken smooth, creamy, and has just the right kick of mint.
So go ahead–it’s real ice cream, and you can enjoy yourself with a clear conscience. Now, if only I could clear my schedule as well.
And even though this ice cream truly does taste more than “slightly” indulgent, I’m submitting the recipe to Amy’s Slightly Indulgent Tuesdays event to showcase the healthy aspect of the recipe. Hop over to Amy’s blog to see what else is on the list!
Easy Mint Carob (or Chocolate) Chip Ice Cream (suitable for ACD Stage 1 and beyond)
This recipe will appear in my upcoming ebook on ACD-friendly desserts, available August 19th! The ice cream was a huge hit with the HH, my friends and the ebook testers.
1 large ripe pear (6.5 oz or 190g), cored (peel if desired—not necessary)
about 1/3 cup (80 ml) avocado purée (from one small to medium just-ripe avocado)
45-70 fresh mint leaves (depending on the size of leaves and your taste)
20-30 drops plain or vanilla stevia liquid, to your taste
1 tsp (5 ml) pure vanilla extract
1 can (400 ml or 14 oz) full-fat organic coconut milk (I use Thai Kitchen)
1/2 cup (120 ml) unsweetened plain or vanilla soy or almond milk
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) pure mint extract, optional (but it really brings out the flavor)
Pinch fine sea salt
1/2 cup (120 ml) unsweetened carob or chocolate chips (1 Tbsp/15 ml per serving)
Line an 8” (20 cm) square pan with two pieces of waxed paper, overlapping paper in either direction to cover all sides of the pan; or place 10 silicon muffin cups in a muffin tin; or set out three silicon ice-cube trays.
Place all ingredients except carob chips in a high-powered blender and blend until perfectly smooth. Pour into the pan, muffin cups or ice cube trays and freeze until firm. Pop the mixture out of the muffin cups or ice cube trays and place in a clean food-grade plastic bag in the freezer until ready to use. If using the square pan, remove from pan by flipping out onto a cutting board as soon as the mixture is frozen solid, about 4 hours, and peeling off the waxed paper. Cut into 8-10 equal squares; place squares in a plastic bag in the freezer until ready to use.
To make the ice cream, remove the desired servings from the freezer bag (one muffin cup per serving, or 4 ice cubes, or one square from the square pan) and place in the bowl of a food processor. Process until the mixture resembles the texture of bread crumbs, then scrape down sides and continue to process just until it begins to form a ball. Using a rubber spatula, spread out the mixture in the processor bowl to cover the bottom; sprinkle with the reserved carob chips (enough for the number of servings selected). Replace the processor cover and pulse 5-10 times, just enough to break up most of the chips and distribute them through the mixture. Scoop into bowls and eat immediately. Makes 8 servings.
[A quick note and special request: The VegNews Awards polls for 2010 are open! If you like Diet, Dessert and Dogs or my cookbook, Sweet Freedom, please head to the site and add them to their lists! You can nominate me for the blog, cookbook author or tweeter categories. How great would it be for an allergy-friendly, whole foods site to top their lists? (And guess what? Ms. Ellen is already nominated! I sense that a meeting will be coming about somehow. . . ) Your support is much appreciated, everyone!]
[Simple to make, delicious to eat: red lentil pâté]
The first time I purchased an ebook from Christy Morgan (aka The Blissful Chef), all I really knew about her was (a) she lived in LA; and (b) she cooked according to macrobiotic principles. Well, since I’d studied the macrobiotic diet in nutrition school, I knew it meshed very well with my own food philosophy and even the anti-candida diet (ACD), as it focuses on whole and local ingredients and traditional preparation methods. And as someone who’s been pining to return to LA (especially on The Ellen Show!) since my last visit there when I was 17, I was pleased to know that fact about Christy, too.
A few weeks ago, I bought the most recent in the “Cooking with the Seasons” series for summer. This is the second in a series of Christy’s ebooks that present recipes geared specifically toward each season. In this ebook, Christy talks a bit about how summer is the “fire” season and why it makes sense to prepare foods that are fresh, mostly raw, quick and easy–to avoid the heat of the kitchen and preserve our energies for other activities during the warm weather. She also discusses her approach to cooking, which she describes as “macrobiotic, vegan, raw fusion.” The sixteen recipes in the ebook reflect that philosophy as well.
The first thing that struck me as I browsed through the recipes was that were so many in it I could eat–with no (or very little) adjustment. Whole foods, low fat, easy preparation and nothing processed–these are the kinds of recipes that fit perfectly with someone on the ACD!
I decided to plunge right in with the ”Red Lentil Pâté with Cashews,” a quick and easy spread that’s perfect to serve to guests or for a light dinner. This is a lovely appetizer with a light texture that’s quite different from the rich, nut-heavy spreads that are more commonly served as vegan pâtés; in keeping with the light summer theme, this recipe has no added fat (though the cashews do add some, of course).
I adored this pâté. It works beautifully as a finger food or even–as I found myself snacking on it–straight from a spoon. The preparation is super-simple (though you do need some time to let the mixture boil down). I was skeptical at first about the amount of curry powder in this–it’s a full tablespoon–but once the mixture cooks up and the lentils begin to soften and dissolve, the final balance of seasoning is perfect. Once cold, the mixture firmed up beautifully as well.
Serve this on crackers, as I did, or slice a thick block to have between slices of hearty bread, with some lettuce and sprouts for a great summer sandwich.
Next up was the “Fresh Herb Salad with White Peaches.” Again, the ingredient list was mostly fresh, whole fruit and vegetables with flavorful fresh herbs as garnish. The combination of peaches, greens, and just-picked herbs sounded fantastic to me, and a great way to use seasonal produce and some of the lovely basil from my garden. Although I couldn’t find white peaches, the final result with conventional fruit was strikingly colorful and vibrant, like a festive float at a summer celebration:
[Fresh Herb Salad with White Peaches--and this is anunretouched photo; the colors really are this intense!]
Finally, I cooked up the “Garden Fresh Millet Quinoa” for dinner; I knew I couldn’t go wrong with two of my favorite grains. Another quick and simple preparation resulted in a light, flavorful dish that was so much more than the sum of its parts. A mélange of colors, flavors and textures contribute to a filling and satisfying meal that both the HH and I enjoyed immensely.
With other recipes like “Heirloom Tomato Bruschetta,” “Creamy Tomato Basil Bisque,” “Kale with Lemon Miso Dressing,” “Summertime Succotash,” or “Mixed-Berry Couscous Cake,” the book offers tasty, fresh ways to use your summer produce and stay cool in the kitchen. And at only $4.99 per book (or $7.99 for both!), Cooking with the Seasons: Summer is a great find.
To provide a sample of the book’s recipes, Christy has graciously allowed me to reprint the Red Lentil Pâté with Cashews. If you enjoy lentil curry, you’ll love this.
This is a light spread and one that tastes equally good cold or slightly warm.
1/4 cup (60 ml) filtered water or broth (I used vegetable broth)
1 carrot, diced
1 celery stalk, diced
1 Tbsp (15 ml) curry powder (I used mild)
1 Tbsp (15 ml) dried coriander
pinch fine sea salt
1 Tbsp (15 ml) minced ginger
1 cup (240 ml) red lentils, washed and picked over
3 cups (720 ml) filtered water (I used vegetable broth)
1 Tbsp (15 ml) tamari (I used Braggs aminos)
1/2 cup (120 ml) lightly toasted cashews, chopped
fresh cilantro, for garnish
Heat the 1/4 cup (60 ml) water in a medium saucepan over medium-high flame. When the water starts to sizzle, sauté the veggies, spices, ginger and salt for a few minutes. Add the 3 cups (720 ml) water or broth and lentils to the pot and bring to a boil. Lower heat, cover, and simmer, stirring occasionally, until smooth, about 30 minutes. Stir in the tamari and cashews and keep stirring, scraping the bottom of the pot as necessary to avoid scorching, until the mixture becomes very thick and paste-like (this took me another 20-30 minutes).
Place the mixture in a loaf pan, bowl, or decorative dish and let sit at least 15 minutes to cool and firm up (I refrigerated mine for a few hours). Serve garnished with cilantro, with crackers for spreading. Will keep, covered, in the refrigerator up to 3 days.
[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.
On my hectic workday mornings, I love thee all stirred up and blended in a smoothie.
I love thee when I crave something snacky, all coated in a cheezy sauce. And, I have no doubt, I shall but love thee even better after dehydrating.
Yes, there are infinte ways to enjoy kale, and I never tire of the frilly, flirty, leafy green chameleon. Kale is the Meryl Streep of green leafy vegetables; you can dress it up in an endless number of guises, it easily takes on the accent of any country on the globe, it’s comfortable exhibiting countless incarnations–but underneath it all, it’s still essentially the same, every time.
Kale brings to mind my friend Babe’s mother, who used to pad from bedroom to bedroom each night as she tucked in each of her four children. After pulling up the covers and smoothing her child’s hair, she’d lean over and whisper, “I love you the most.” That’s how I feel about kale. No matter what the meal, no matter how it’s prepared, that’s the one I love the most.
And now, there’s a new favorite kale in town! As a subscriber to the McDougall newsletter, I came across this salad recipe tucked inobtrusively behind the savory lentil spread, spicy garbanzo pinwheels, and balsamic strawberry dressing this month. What appears at first a mild-mannered, simple and uncomplicated dish belies the underlying complexity and subtle layering of flavors in this recipe. And once again, the dressing is the true star of the salad. It’s so good that The HH and I ate an entire head of kale this way!
I’m thrilled to have another raw kale salad to recommend. It’s so quick and easy, it’s crazy simple. A perfect way to add fresh greens to your meal–or make it the meal itself, as we did.
Just like a great poem, this one’s destined to become a classic.
After polishing off the entire bowl, it occurred to me that the kale would have been spectacular if spread on a teflex sheet and popped in a dehydrator (or cookie sheet and low-temperature oven) to make my own kale chips. I’m saving that for next time (but let me know if you try it!).
For the salad:
1 head of curly green kale, washed, dried and stems removed
For the dressing:
1/2 cup (120 ml) raw or regular natural smooth almond butter
1/2 cup (120 ml) water
2 Tbsp (30 ml) freshly squeezed lime juice (about one lime)
1-2 cloves garlic, minced, to your taste
about 1/2 inch (1.5 cm) piece ginger, peeled and minced
5 drops plain liquid stevia
1/4 tsp (1.5 ml) red pepper flakes
2 Tbsp (30 ml) sesame seeds, raw or lightly toasted
Finely chop the kale and place in a large bowl.
In a smaller bowl, whisk together the remaining ingredients except for sesame seeds. Pour the mixture over the kale and toss well to coat. Sprinkle with sesame seeds and serve. Makes 4-6 side servings or 2 main course servings.
Remember that first blush of new love, those early days when you were still keen to learn every little thing about your sweetheart? A casual glance around the back yard revealed the emerald hue of the grass, the red of the tomato plants, the coral of the peonies all mysteriously so much sharper and more intense, as if your world had suddenly graduated to HD. The woman at the A & P checkout was actually friendly for once, even smiling when she returned your change. Even your office cubicle, previously no more than a cramped, beige, barren receptacle, seemed to brighten a little, become a source of personal pride and production.
Ah, the unblemished enthusiasm of a new relationship, when you were still willing to do almost anything to please your partner. You want to go see the movie 10,000 BC? Sure, I’d love to, I’ve always been a huge fan of big game hunting! There’s an exhibit at the Science Center on “The Demographics of Star Trek: From Vulcan to Romulin and Beyond”? Well, count me in, I’m just fascinated by the mating habits of those pointy-eared dudes! Can we spend the weekend at my buddy Alfie’s helping him rebuild his 1972 Corvette engine? You betcha! Grease and metal–two of my favorite things!
In those early days, you would never dream of facing your beloved without having showered, shaved, or styled your hair. Mascara was meticulously applied; earrings carefully chosen to complement the pattern of your (new) skirt. And forays to Victoria’s Secret became a regular occurrence, so you could invest in frilly unmentionables you likely would never have glanced at otherwise (though I’m sorry, I could just never get behind the thong craze. Or get it behind me, either, for that matter).
Eventually, of course, you both relax and become accustomed to being together. Really, why bother with contacts the minute you leap out of bed, if you’re just reading the paper in your flannel robe at the kitchen table sipping coffee? And this old Counting Crows T-shirt is so much more comfy than those slippery, frilly babydolls, isn’t it? And let’s face it, cotton briefs just feel better under jeans. It’s the weekend–does it really matter if you walk the dogs in sweats and runners, or if you postpone that shower until after you’ve finished your gardening? You’re just going to sweat again, anyway.
Well, during those first starry-eyed few months of our relationship, before we both abandoned the faςade for good, the HH was still making an attempt to impress me. Um, let me rephrase that; it was probably more like during the first month or so that the HH was occasionally trying to impress me. Okay, maybe not a whole month. All right, fine; it was only once. But that one time was very impressive.
You see, the HH’s notion of “impressing me,” like his notion of everything else, was atypical. He isn’t one for flowers (which he has bought for me a total of two times in our 13 years together); or for giving me chocolates (twice); or jewelry (once). No, the HH’s concept of “how to impress a gal” was to cook for me. And, also characteristic of the HH, he went all out, planning a four-course dinner for me–and six guests.
I won’t get into the details, but suffice it to say that the “only” place he could buy his meat (this was during my physician-ordered “return to meat” phase, during my first candida cleanse; I’m smarter now) was the most expensive market in the city, and since he didn’t own any kitchen utensils or equipment, he bought them there, too, and since the recipe required a very expensive, French, red wine, he picked that up as well, and. . . 11 hours and a full week’s paycheck later, eight of us enjoyed a massive feast and hugely successful party that carried on until the single-digit hours of the morning.
The HH has never cooked since.
For my part, I felt I had to reciprocate. Throwing dinner parties in those heady days of my “social thirties” was no hardship, but I knew the dessert had to be spectacular. I happily put together a menu and spent the weekend cooking. And while I have no recollection of the main course that evening, I do recall that this salad kicked off the festivities, and became a repeated feature at parties all that summer. (Of course I remember the dessert as well: a towering concoction that was part meringue and part genoise, its strata stuck together with alternating layers of mocha buttercream and chocolate ganache, topped with handmade chocolate lace decorations and gold dragees. It made an incredibly impressive end to the meal–and breakfast the next morning).
In addition to being aesthetically appealing with its variety of shapes and colors, the salad offers a light yet satisfying first course or side dish. As we all know, it’s the dressing that “makes” a salad, and this one is magical. The jalapeno subtext underscores the fragrant, slightly sweet tarragon, all in tandem with the vibrant colors and textures of the veggies. You could probably sub almost any vegetables of your choice (I bet green beans and beets would go nicely), so feel free to change them up as you like.
About a week ago, I stumbled across the recipe on a wayward magazine page as I was leafing through my recipe folders. After a Proustian moment of salivating reverie, I decided to recreate the salad for dinner that night, grill or no grill.
As we sat across from each other at our unadorned kitchen table (the morning’s paper still piled off to the side), munching on the mélange of grilled veggies, herbs and seeds, the HH and I were momentarily transported back to that early summer of dinner parties and getting to know each other.
“I remember this one,” the HH remarked, a dreamy smile on his face. ”This salad is terrific.” I may have even detected the hint of a long-lost gleam in his eye.
He may have been sporting a three-day stubble and ragged college-era T-shirt; I may have been still wearing my workout gear and glasses (I don’t even own contacts any more); the salad may have been more work than we’re used to these days, but it was worth it.
“Yes,” I replied, smiling at my sweetheart. “I”d say it’s very impressive.”
A great dish to make for a BBQ or buffet table. With its rainbow mix of colors and fragrant fresh herb dressing, this salad has something to please everyone.
Salad:
1 each yellow and green zucchini
1 each sweet green and red pepper, cored
1 large carrot, peeled
1 large eggplant
1/3 cup (80 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 jalapeno pepper, seeded and minced
1/4 tsp (1 ml) each salt and pepper
1/4 cup (60 ml) sunflower seeds, lightly toasted
Dressing:
1 Tbsp (15 ml) chopped fresh tarragon leaves
1 Tbsp (15 ml) fresh lemon juice
1 Tbsp (15 ml) balsamic vinegar (for ACD: use apple cider vinegar)
5-8 drops plain liquid stevia, to taste
2 green onions, chopped
1 small clove garlic, minced
pinch each, fine sea salt and pepper
1/4 cup (60 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
Cut both zucchini, both peppers, carrot and eggplant lengthwise into 1/2 inch (1 cm) thick slices. In a large bowl, whisk together the oil, garlic, jalapeno, salt and pepper; add vegetables and toss to coat.
Place vegetables, in batches, on greased grill over medium heat; close lid and cook, turning occasionally, for about 10 minutes or just until tender-crisp. Let cool on cutting board and then cut into 2 x 1/2 inch (5 x 1 cm) sticks. Set aside.
Prepare dresssing: In a large bowl, combine tarragon, lemon juice, vinegar, stevia, green onion, garlic, salt and pepper; gradually whisk in oil. Add vegetables and stir to coat. Serve sprinkled with sunflower seeds. Makes 6 servings. Will keep, covered, in refrigerator up to 2 days.
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