Diet, Dessert and Dogs

[The final recipe, here with olives, green onion and almond feta]

I’ve seen it mentioned on twitter.  I’ve noticed it in passing on other blogs.  I’ve gone to their pages and read them.  But sorry, folks, I still don’t get it.

Question One: What’s the Big Deal with Formspring Me? 

Personally, I’d rather springform (pan) me.  Then, at least, I’d have cheesecake when I was done. 

Of course, I do understand the appeal of asking a blogger questions about her/himself; we all like to learn a little more about fellow bloggers’ personalities and personal lives.  (When I first started blogging, memes were all the rage, and I happily participated.  In a way, they accomplish something akin to Formspring, since they answer previously unanswered questions.) But what’s wrong with asking questions the old-fashioned way, through a blog comment, email, or social media?  (Okay, maybe those methods aren’t so old-fashioned after all.  But an inquisition, interrogation, jury duty interview or Miss Universe Pageant have all been done before).  

So please, go ahead, ask me anything! (Like, for instance, what’s up with Kara DioGuardi on Idol this season? I mean, canoodling with Simon? Drooling over Casey?  Crying??)  Or perhaps you’d like to know: how did I make this inimitable cheese bread?

[An early attempt:  higher, but too moist in the middle.]

Question Two: Why Am I Craving Bread All of the Sudden?

Now that I’m following Phase II of the ACD (almost a month with a “moderate” score on the ACD questionnaire!  Whoopee!), I’m allowed certain new grains and the occasional flour product.  Needless to say, I’ve been going to town baking again.  And though the sweet side of the recipe folder may remain a little neglected for a while, I’m perfectly happy to play with savory.

I’m not sure why I ended up with a hankering for this type of meal-in-a-loaf (or any bread, really), since  I’ve never been a fan of these floury foods in any form. I rarely consume sandwiches (in fact, you’ll find but one mention of a sandwich on this blog, and only two recipes for breads).  The idea of white bread–even a really good, crusty Italian ciabatta or French baguette–leaves me feeling “meh.” Now, give me a dense, hearty pumpernickel or a moist, tawny rye, and I’m there.  These were the kinds of breads we had in our house growing up–straight from my dad’s butcher shop (in an area where ethnic bakeries abounded); bread was something substantial, hefty, and dense; bread could double as a doorstop, or a means of self-defense (sorta like my confiscated keychain). 

Recently, I completed testing for an upcoming review of Celine and Joni’s amazing  500 Vegan Recipes (on the blog soon!)  and found myself with some leftover ”veganzola” cheese (the HH and I both loved it, and indeed enjoyed it for a few days in a row, but the recipe yields a huge amount).  

Contemplating what I could do with the cheese, it suddenly hit me: “savory bread!” 

Question Three: So How Do You Get the Caramel into the Caramilk Cheese into the Bread?

[Starting out with cheese filled savory muffins]

I thought it would be cool to enclose pockets of cheese within the bread so that each slice revealed a coin of the creamy stuff along with other savory goodies such as olives and green onions.  But how to accomplish this feat–how to prevent the cheese from melting and dissipating into the bread, effectively disappearing? 

I baked up an early batch in muffin form, simply to test the theory; would the cheese remain distinct from the batter?  The answer was, clearly, “yes.”  And these savory muffins make a great breakfast accompaniment. 

I thought the bread would be more visually appealing, however, as a single loaf, so that’s what I tried next (told you I had lots of cheese left over!).  Doubling the muffin recipe resulted in a huge slab, but one that required almost 2 hours to bake–and the middle was still a little too moist at that point. 

Back to the flouring board.

[The final product: whole loaf success!]

Finally, I tweaked the recipe and proportions (while preserving the same ratios of ingredients–thanks, Michael Ruhlman!) to create a loaf about 3/4 the volume of my first attempt.  This one baked up beautifully in just over an hour.  I could barely wait for it to cool before tasting it–and when I did finally sink my teeth in, oooh mama!  Success! 

The combination of tangy, salty cheese; briny, marinated olives; and delicately pungent onion was divine. The cheese remained soft within the moist, dense bread, punctuating each slice with a warm pillow of creaminess.  Manna!

Question Four: Sure, I May Have Liked It, But Are My Tastebuds Skewed From Being on the ACD for So Long?

As I sliced up the bread to photograph it for the blog, the HH observed from across the room.

“What is that?” he asked.

“Cheese bread with olives and onions,” I replied, crumbs dribbling from my mouth.

“Yeah, but it’s veeee-gan cheese, right?”

“Yup.”  (munch, munch).

He watched me scarf down the first slice and reach for another.  “Okay,” he conceded as I bit into it, “let me have a taste.”  I handed over a corner of the slice.

He chewed contemplatively.  “Hmm.  Not bad,” he said.  He broke off another piece from the slice and gobbled it up.  Then he reached for the bread on the table. 

“You can’t eat that yet–I have to take a photo,” I said. 

“Well, hurry up,” he scowled, “this is really good.” 

And that, dear readers, is when I knew:  if an omnivorous, cheese-loving, gluten-eating, generally ornery and skeptical male wanted to chow down on this GF and vegan bread, I had a real winner on my hands. 

Question Five:  So What Are You Waiting For? Go Bake Bread!

Cheese Filled Onion and Olive Bread (ACD Phase II and Beyond)

This bread is so hearty, so substantial and satisfying that you may find all you need is a light green salad alongside a slice, and you’ve got a meal. And just look at that crumb!

1/4 cup (60 ml) unsweetened applesauce

2 Tbsp (30 ml) tahini (sesame paste)

1-1/4 cups (300 ml) unsweetened almond, soy or hemp milk

1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) apple cider vinegar

2 Tbsp (30 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic

3 Tbsp (45 ml) finely ground flax seeds

1/3 cup (80 ml) oil-cured black olives, pitted and cut in half

2-3 green onions, sliced (white and light green parts only)

3/4 cup (90 g) amaranth flour (or use quinoa)

1-1/4 cups (145 g) millet flour

1/2 cup (55 g) soy flour

1 Tbsp (15 ml) arrowroot or organic cornstarch

2-1/4 tsp (12 ml) baking powder

3/4 tsp (7.5 ml) baking soda

1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) fine sea salt

about 1/2 cup (120 ml) of your favorite soft, flavorful “cheese,” homemade or packaged (I used “veganzola” from 500 Vegan Recipes and, in the final loaf, this feta.)

Preheat oven to 350F (190C). Line an 8″ (20 cm) loaf pan with parchment, or spray with nonstick spray.

In a medium bowl, whisk the applesauce and tahini until smooth.  Slowly add the soymilk and mix well.  Stir in the vinegar, oil and flax seeds. Gently fold in the olives and onion; set aside while you prepare the dry ingredients, or at least 5 minutes (this will allow the flax to absorb excess moisture).

In a large bowl, sift together the amaranth flour, millet flour, soy flour, arrowroot powder, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Add the wet mixture to the dry and stir just to blend (do not overmix or your bread may not rise!).  The dough should be the texture of a thick muffin batter.

Very gently, spoon about half the batter into the bottom of the pan (it doesn’t have to be perfect; just estimate), spreading to ensure there are no uncovered spots.  Then, using about 2 teaspoons (10 ml) cheese per portion, stagger mounds of cheese across the top of the batter, taking care not to touch the sides of the pan (and ensuring that the hunks of cheese don’t touch each other, either).  Carefully spoon the remaining batter over the first half in the pan, gently spreading it to cover the cheese completely. 

Bake in preheated oven 70-75 minutes, rotating the pan about halfway through, until the loaf is very deep golden brown on top (the usual test of doneness won’t work here, as the cheese will remain wet; however, if you’re certain you’re poking the loaf where there is no cheese, you can test with a toothpick inserted in the batter). 

Allow to cool in the pan for 15 minutes before gently turning the loaf onto a cooling rack.  Slice using a sharp knife that has been dipped in hot water and wiped dry between cuts (this will prevent the cheese from sticking to the knife, which can cause the slices to crumble).  Especially good warm or at room temperature with melted coconut oil.  Makes 8-10 generous slices.  May be frozen.

Last Year at this Time: Please Standby

Two Years Ago: Butterscotch Mousse Pie

© 2010 Diet, Dessert and Dogs

I know; nothing is as awesome as George Clooney.  (Well, at least according to George Clooney).  But this is still one heck of a stud muffin, nonetheless! (*groan*).

So, are you ready for the Oscars?!

As I’ve been remarking on twitter, I’m not sure why I’m so geared up to watch the glitz-and-glamor, botox-and-restalyn, glistening parade of sartorial faux-pas yet again this year, considering (a) I’ve seen but one of the movies; (b) the hosts, while both appealing in their own ways, are really a generation removed from most of the viewing audience; (c) this year’s show, with its surfeit of charity-ops for camera-hungry celebs and its plethora of cause-specific ribbons, promises to offer a massive ego-massage positively onanistic in its over-the-top, only-as-they-can-do-it-in-Hollywood, self-indulgence. 

But hey–I might see George Clooney! And Meryl will be there!  And maybe even Oprah! And gowns!  And a dance number! And Joan Rivers–!!

Oops, no Joan Rivers this year (at least, not in Toronto).  Boo hoo! To me, her biting commentary and snarky asides were mostly what made watching the Oscars worthwhile (that, and the squirm-inducing speeches, of course).  Well, at least I saw La Joan the other night at her live performance.  (For those of you who asked, she was tremendous.  Hilarious.  Gut-splittingly funny. A force of nature, indeed!  And the worst gutter mouth of anyone I’ve ever heard, regardless of age.  Nice to know some things don’t change as you get older!)

I’ve always wanted to have one of those Oscar-night parties with friends, at which you all eat themed foods and drink themed alcoholic beverages.  Instead, tonight I’ll be watching the show while continuing to work on my puzzle, with the HH gleefully adding his ascerbic commentary from the sidelines.  Not a fan of the whole Hollywood-worship vibe, the HH would rather read a book on nuclear physics.  For real.

Still, gotta give the guy credit for staying in the same room and keeping me company.  And who says couples can’t have different interests?  When we were first together, I might have wished that my honey and I would do everything together, but I’ve since realized it’s no fun, for instance, sitting in a movie theater watching The Notebook and bawling your eyes out while your partner silently mocks you for your melodrama.  Much better to go with a girlfriend, and let her silently mock you.

And so, in the spirit of each doing her or his own thing, I bring you these Awesomeness Muffins, made especially for the HH to enjoy on his own.  Since he’s not on the ACD, and since I would much rather he bring a homemade muffin than a Tim Horton’s muffin to work for breakfast each day, I was happy to do so. And they’ll make a great snack for the guy while he reads that physics text.

The recipe is adapted from the talented Kris Holechek’s  100 Best Vegan Baking Recipes.  The original muffins, called “Leslie’s Awesomeness Muffins” (see? some things really are better with your girlfriends) featured a combination of banana, dates, and nuts.  I took the mix a step further–perhaps feeling a bit of the over-the-top Hollywood influence this weekend–and added butterscotch chips, which I sourced from a local supermarket and have been dying to use.  The result was a moist, light muffin packed with a health-promoting punch and just a smidge of decadence.  Somehow, I don’t think the Oscars will offer the same restraint this evening. 

Awesomeness Muffins (ACD maintenance only)

adapted from 100 Best Vegan Baking Recipes

Light, moist, and with very little added sweetener.  You can certainly substitute chocolate for the butterscotch, but the butterscotch chips add a lovely aroma and richness to the muffins.

2 medium bananas, mashed (about 1 cup/240 ml)

1/2 cup (120 ml) plain or vanilla soy, almond or hemp milk

1/4 cup (60 ml) sunflower or other light-tasting oil, preferably organic

2 Tbsp (30 ml) blackstrap molasses

2 Tbsp (30 ml) maple syrup or agave nectar

1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) apple cider vinegar

1 cup (100 g) old-fashioned whole rolled oats (not instant)

2/3 cup (95 g) chopped dried dates

1/3 cup (65 g) dairy-free butterscotch or chocolate chips

1/2 cup (55 g) walnut pieces, lightly toasted

1 cup (140 g) light spelt flour

1/3 cup (45 g) whole spelt flour

2 tsp (10 ml) baking powder

1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) baking soda

1/2 tsp (2. 5 ml) cinnamon

1/8 tsp (.5 ml) fine sea salt

Preheat oven to 375F (190C).  Line a 12-cup muffin tin with paper liners, or spray with nonstick spray.

In a medium bowl, combine the bananas, soymilk, oil, molasses, maple syrup and apple cider vinegar; stir until well mixed.  Add the oats, dates, chips and nuts and stir to coat.  Set aside.

In a large bowl, sift together the light spelt flour, whole spelt flour, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon and salt. 

Add the wet ingredients to the dry and stir just until combined.  Using a large ice cream scoop or 1/4 cup (60 ml) measure, scoop the batter into the prepared tins, dividing evenly.  Bake in preheated oven 15-20 minutes, until a tester inserted in a center muffin comes out clean.  Cool 5 minutes before turning onto a rack to cool completely.  May be frozen.

Last Year at this Time: Grain Free Lemony Almond Pancakes

Two Years Ago: Week at Warp Speed and Easy Dinner (Lentil-Tomato Spaghetti Sauce and Avocado Pesto Salad Dressing)

[Do you have any idea how scary it was to snap a closeup of this alligator?!

 Me, neither. (Source)]

After that harrowing ordeal in the airport and the relentless carnival atmosphere of Miami Beach in the first half of our trip, the HH and I were more than ready to head north to Sarasota, where my cousin Marketing Guru (MG) had promised a more serene lifestyle.  So let’s hit the road, shall we?

I. En Route to Sarasota: See Ya Later, Alligator

[Can you believe how many alligators live along this stretch of Florida highway?? Me, neither. (Source)].

Leaving Miami, we headed along interstate Route 75, also known as “Alligator Alley.”  This 200-mile (320 km) stretch of highway dissecting the Everglades offers the curious sightseer but one image:  a seemingly endless vista of flat terrain dotted with the occasional tawny brush, swampland on either side, and a veritable army of alligators poised on either shore, patiently awaiting their lunch (human, perhaps?), effectively sporting their green leathery camouflage.  I tried over and over to snap a photo as we whizzed by the monochromatic scenery, to capture only this:

[Can you spot the alligator in this photo?  Me, neither.]

Finally, after about 2 hours without pit stops, bathroom breaks, or any other signs of civilized life, we lit upon Naples, then continued right through to Sarasota (with a quick rest stop at a local Sheraton Four Points Punta Gorda).

II. Sarasota:  Feed Me!

I was initially a little wary before our reunion with MG,whom I hadn’t seen in about 10 years. It was also the first time I really got to know MG’s wife (MGW), with whom I’d never really spent any quality time.  I shouldn’t have fretted: they were both incredibly hospitable, gracious and welcoming, and we four hit it off famously.  I mean, for our first dinner out, MG suggested  Chutney’s (“where spice is the variety of life”), primarily because “they have a daily vegetarian option.”  (Is he a great guy, or what?) The combination Indian and Mediterranean menu provided more than enough choice for this Canuck gal.  Thanks, cuz! 

A cozy, unassuming atmosphere beckoned and the food, both homey and creative, was excellent.  My pick (of course) was the vegetarian curry of the day (with chickpeas and vegetables) along with a hefty portion of the Mediterranean appetizer plate shared by us all (including baba ganouj, hummus, tahini and falafel).  We did manage to get back to the house in time for an hour of ice dancing* before falling into bed.  All in all, a great first evening!

III. Sarasota: Come Over Here and Give Me a Pug.

One of Sarasota’s most quirky public events is known as the ”Pug Parade.”  For this annual festival, every dog owner in the city–nay, the state (and beyond) dresses up her or his pug, then sashays along a runway with said costumed canine to determine which will win the Dog Owner with Way Too Much Time on Their Hands award.  (Okay, I made up that last part.  But they do choose a winner for best dog costume.). 

Well, as it turned out by sheer coincidence, the HH and I arrived on the selfsame weekend as this year’s parade!  And by even greater coincidence, Marketing Guru and MGW have a pug!  And her name is Misty!  And Misty is a former Pug Parade Champion!

Needless to say, we attended this year’s Pug Parade.

Milling about under a massive tent in the center of a local park, I have never seen so many pugs in one place, let alone so many pugs in wildly creative costumes (biker pug with actual tatoos; sushi pug rolled into a giant nori roll; bride pug with bouquet and groom pug; geisha pug; birthday cake pug; ballerlina pug, Tiger Woods pug, Lady GaGa pug, Bug Pug, and any other kind of pug you can imagine).  Misty, this time round, was dressed as Pugahontas.  Ain’t she cute?

[Can you spot the alligator in this photo?  It's right there in front, dressed up as a pug.]

Though she didn’t win this time round, Misty did receive a huge round of applause and several hoots.

Later, as we drove through the idyllic neighborhood with its palm tree-lined streets and placid parklands, the HH and I both marvelled at how beautiful the area was. A planned community, almost the entire city had been built from scratch. 

“Oh, when we first moved in, there were still lots of alligators roaming the streets,” MGW told us.  “And wild boars everywhere.” Alligators?  Wild boars? 

I nodded politely.  “Wow,” I said.  “You guys are brave to have moved here back then.  Good thing the alligators have all gone now.”

“Well, not really,” she countered. “They just hang around the ponds now.  You can usually spot a few at each pond.”  Given there were ponds at just about every intersection, and given I had not yet spied a single solitary alligator with my own eyes, I remained incredulous. We approached another pond.

“Here, take my binoculars,” MGW urged as Marketing Guru slowed the car.  I peered through the lenses at the not-so-distant shore.  And. . . what the–?? That dark olive-grey mass in front of the trees. . . by George, it WAS an alligator!  But wait!  There were two more masses beside it, just over there to the right. . . ! And what was that further down the shore–??!!  I could feel my skin begin to tingle.

“They stay still during the day, but they generally come out at night,” MGW informed us.  “Don’t worry, though, they don’t come up to the houses. . . well, not anymore.”

And just like that, there went my dreams of moving to Sarasota.  

IV. Sarasota, Sarasota: It’s a Wonderful Town!

As a perk of his position at the Sarasota Orchestra, MG was able to secure tickets to that weekend’s concert for the four of us (yippee!).  On the playlist that evening were three performances: Bernstein’s “Three Dance Episodes from On the Town” (from which “New York, New York, It’s a Wonderful Town” originated); Barber’s “Violin Concerto Op. 14” performed by the young, critically acclaimed Elena Urioste (whose performances–both visual and aural–were stunning); and Saint-Saens’ “Symphony No. 3 in C Minor, Op. 78,” the organ symphony. 

Our pre-performance dinner that night took place at  Tropical Thai, another quaint spot that served up surprisingly good food.  I was, again, surprised and delighted with the number of vegan options (there was even an entire page of Macrobiotic dishes!).  I opted for miso soup, followed by a red curry with vegetables and tofu–not as tasty as the previous night’s Indian curry, but satisfying nonetheless.

Then, it seemed, just as we began to really relax and feel at home,** it was suddenly time to return to Toronto.  Here we are now, a week after our return, and it feels as if we never left.  And as a bonus, we were greeted last week with the biggest snowstorm so far this season. As Pepé le Pew would say,  Le sigh.

["Mum, it definitely felt like you left to us. And don't worry about the snow--at least you won't find any alligators living in this climate!]

Well, if I can’t physically remain in Florida, at least I can travel back along the highway of gustatory imagination. I decided to recreate the delectable butternut-edamame hash I savored at Wish in Miami.  With small, uniform cubes of roasted butternut squash cozying up to perky green edamame, both awash in a slightly gooey, slightly sweet maple glaze, this hash was the epitome of clean and delicious fare.  I had to have it again!

My version uses yacon as a standin for maple syrup in the original, though you should feel free to swap it back if you prefer the latter or can’t find the former (unless you’re also on the ACD, that is, in which case, sorry–maple syrup is verboten).

The bright hues and fresh flavors of this dish are guaranteed to bring a little bit of Florida sunshine into your mealtime.  And no alligators, I promise.

*That would be, “watching it on TV,” not “doing it.”

**Not that I’d ever get used to the alligators, however.

 Butternut and Edamame Hash (suitable for ACD Phase I or later)

inspired by a dish at Wish restaurant.

With its combination of sweet squash, chewy edamame and sticky glaze, this high-protein dish makes a perfect accompaniment to any savory main course. 

1 small butternut squash, peeled and seeded, cut into 1″ (2.5 cm) cubes

2 Tbsp (30 ml) extra virgin olive oil

1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) fine sea salt

1 cup (240 ml) shelled, cooked edamame

2 Tbsp (30 ml) yacon syrup and 3 Tbsp (30 ml) water OR 1/4 cup (60 ml) pure maple syrup

1 small clove garlic, minced

1 Tbsp (15 ml) toasted sesame oil

1 tsp (5 ml) arrowroot powder or cornstarch blended with 1/4 cup (60 ml) water until smooth

1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) maple flavoring (if using yacon syrup), optional

pinch fine sea salt

Preheat oven to 400F (200C). Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper, or spray with olive oil spray.  Also spray a casserole or square pan and set aside.

Place the raw squash cubes in a large bowl and drizzle with the olive oil and salt.  Toss with your (clean) hands until all the pieces are coated evenly.  Spread the squash on the baking sheet in a single layer. Bake for 35-45 minutes, until the cubes are just tender.  Remove the squash and reduce the oven heat to 350F (180C).

Meanwhile, in a small pot, combine the yacon/water or maple syrup, garlic, sesame oil and arrowroot mixture until well blended.  Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until the mixture boils and bubbles; continue to cook and stir for 30 seconds, until thick.  Remove from heat and stir in the maple flavoring, if using; season with more sea salt to taste.

Place the squash cubes and edamame in the reserved casserole dish and pour the glaze over them; toss with a large spoon or spatula until all the squares are coated.  Reheat in the oven until everything is warmed through, about 10 minutes.  Stir again before serving.   Makes 4 side servings.

Last Year at this Time: A break.  But how about My Mother’s Potato Corn Chowder instead?

Two Years Ago: Bangkok Noodles with Cashews and Pineapple* (*Or, How to Get Your Meat-Loving Guy to Love a Vegan Meal)

© 2010 Diet, Dessert and Dogs

[Sorry this is a long post. . . feel free to chop it up into manageable segments, like a honkin' big Florida grapefruit.]

Does this look like a deadly weapon?

Can it really be a week since the HH and I took off for parts unknown in Florida? I guess time really does fly when you’re having fun. Still, it’s great to be back–I’ve missed all of you (well, I did manage one peek at the blog while staying at my cousin’s house in the latter part of the trip–thanks for all the well-wishes!). Hope you all had a great week, too   (“Mum, we had a great time staying with our friends at Eternal Optimist’s house, too, but time didn’t fly for us.  EO is nice, but she doesn’t dole out quite as many treats as you do.”)

And here I am, back just in time for our first pelting snowstorm (about 10 cm or 4 inches, the largest snowfall so far this year).  Nope, Toronto when it snows does not a welcoming city make.  While I reorient myself to the city and the cold, I thought I’d give you a few highlights from last week’s holiday, in two parts.  Part One:  We’ll Always Have Miami.

Toronto, Day 1: Ricki and the HH Attempt to Board the Airplane.

Location:  Toronto International Airport. 

Ricki and the HH are screened by US customs before they board the plane.  The HH, bearing no carry on luggage, saunters through the metal detector and waits on the other side for Ricki.

The Security Guard carefully unzips Ricki’s tightly packed carry-on bag and meticulously paws each and every vial, bottle, jar, bag, container, case, or pouch.  He comes upon Ricki’s toothpaste and brandishes it aloft.

Security Guard: What is this, please?

Ricki: Holistic toothpaste.  I don’t eat aspartame, which is in regular toothpaste.

Does THIS look like a deadly weapon?

Guard: Hmmm. [He turns the tube this way and that, gazing at it like a jeweler examining the facets of the Koh-i-Noor.]  Toothpaste. [He sets the tube of toothpaste aside.  He turns to Ricki's purse and begins another piece-by-piece examination.]

Guard [holding Ricki's keychain]:  What is this, please?

Ricki: A keychain.  [beginning to feel a little nervous, angry at self that she forgot to remove it from the purse]. It’s supposed to protect me in case I get mugged.

See? It even says, “DEFENDER” on the end, not “SECRET AGGRESSOR”!

Guard: Does it extend–? [trying to make the molded plastic bar extend.]

Ricki: No.

Guard: Just a moment, please [speaks furiously on his walkie-talkie].

The Security Manager, a young woman in her late twenties sporting a severe bun, grey fitted suit and practical flats, arrives.

Security Manager [holding the keychain]: May I see your passport, please? [Ricki hands it over.] Does this keychain extend?

Ricki: [beginning to despair]: No.

Manager: Does it contain a blade?

Ricki [panic is on its way]: No.

Manager: Please step aside, Ma’am.

Ricki [fearing she might miss her flight] Are you joking?

Manager: Well, this toothpaste exceeds the carry-on size limit.  And we’ll need to check out this keychain more closely.

Ricki [barely holding it together]: You’re going to take my things away from me?! But– [face flushes red]. But that toothpaste costs $10 a tube!

The security manager speaks furiously on her walkie-talkie.  Three uniformed police officers arrive.  The Security Manager approaches them, Ricki’s keychain in hand.

Manager [to Police Officer #1]:  What kind of weapon is this?

Police Officer #1: Well, I guess you could call it a simple club. [he smiles]

Ricki [to Police Officer #1]: Are you going to take it away from me?

PO #1: Well, you know, it could be a deadly weapon [he suppresses a giggle].

Ricki [a bit frantic now]: I’m actually more upset about my toothpaste.  It’s $10 a tube!

PO #2: Well, you know, toothpaste might be considered a deadly weapon [he smiles and winks.  Winks!]

PO #3:  I tell you what.  This isn’t, technically, a lethal weapon.  So if you give it up voluntarily, you can get through the process much quicker.

Ricki: Well, if it isn’t technically a lethal weapon, what if I decide I don’t want to give it up voluntarily?

PO #3:  We’ll take it away anyway.

In the end, the deadly toothpaste and keychain were, indeed, confiscated, though I was permitted to place them in storage until my return.  I was then treated to a full body pat-down while the HH stood off to the side smirking and singing under his breath, “Ricki is a TERR-or-ist, Ricki is a TERR-or-ist, nyah nyah.” 

To complete the Abbott and Costello air of the event, I realized the guard had retained my passport just as we approached the boarding gate; I asked an airline representative to go check for me. By the time she returned, I had found it in a fold of my purse–but she’d already arranged to have my luggage removed from the plane (since someone without a passport wouldn’t be allowed to transport her luggage, of course). 

And so began our first real vacation in ten years.  It could only improve from there.

Miami Beach, Day 3: Ricki and the HH meet her father’s new girlfriend.

After the initial shock of settling in South Beach (So much neon! So little green space! So many crowds! So much scalpel-enhanced cleavage!), the HH and I arranged to meet my dad and his new girlfriend for dinner. The Shore Club, where we stayed (courtesy of hotwire.com) was apparently one of the chic spots, renovated by a famous designer and proudly billed as a ”boutique hotel.”  The entirely-white lobby, dotted as it was with blocks of sheer white curtains suspended from floor to ceiling at arbitrary locations, floor strewn with white mattress-sized pillows, pristine white couches and a variety of oil lamps, is described on the hotel’s website as “an eclectic mix evocative of global marketplaces.”  To me, however, it seemed more evocative of ”latter day opium den.” 

In fact, everything about the place (except for the room itself, which featured minimalist geometric furniture (also all white) and a floor and walls covered in–get this–concrete; that’s right: stark, cold, cement-hard concrete.  No carpets, no throw rugs) seemed geared toward lethargy and dreamy relaxation.  Note the actual bed in the courtyard (it’s right there beside the hammock):

Sadly, with temperatures at their coldest in the last decade, we never took advantage of the outdoor furniture or the hotel pool.

Our dinner took place at the Canyon Ranch Grill, a fortuitous find after I conducted a Google search for “Organic Restaurant Miami.”  I couldn’t have been more thrilled with the menu options there–almost everything was organic, with loads of veggie dishes, prepared in a simple yet delectable manner.  My own dinner consisted of a grilled vegetable salad (sans cheese or pistachios–they kindly subbed cashews instead); and three of the “Simple Eats”: Steamed Vegetable Basket, Sautéed Spinach and Garlic; and Baked Sweet Potato.  Everything was superb–fresh, clean food with pure flavors, cooked to perfection.

And what about my dad’s girlfriend, you may wonder?  A tyical Miami snowbird, a cross between  Zsa Zsa Gabor and Phyllis Diller, Ms. Friend turned out to be a lovely woman (in fact, a lovely younger woman at 77 years old!), who was clearly besotted with my father.  My dad, for his part, lapped up the attention–he’s quite a catch (according to him) at 88 as he still retains all his senses, all his hair, and his ability to play gin rummy–and dance. 

Miami Beach, Day 4: Face Time for Ricki and the HH.

The following evening, the HH and I enjoyed an intimate dinner (just the two of us) at Wish, a place recommended by the concierge at our hotel.  The dinner there was superb. The menu offers a vegetarian tasting option composed of any four choices from either the side dishes on the menu or the accompaniments to any of the other entrées (for instance, grilled zucchini that would normally be served alongside chicken).  I began with the Wish salad, a tart, spicy, crunchy and juicy mix of bitter greens, gingered dressing and toasted cashews; followed by a platter with an Asian stir-fried vegetable salad of carrot, fennel and hijiki (I think) bathed in a chili-sesame vinaigrette; a warm, sweetly glistening butternut-edamame hash; a dainty fingerling potatoes in a red chimichurri sauce, rich and subtly spicy; and simple grilled yellow summer squash and zucchini.  Yum!

Left to right, top to bottom: fingerling potatoes with chimichurri; stir-fried vegetable salad; butternut and edamame hash; and simple grilled summer squashes.

 As to the ACD, I did my best to consume only “green-light” foods, but decided not to flagellate myself if I ended up eating a few non ACD-friendly items on the trip.  This dietary decision led to two surprises:  first, the enormous number of dishes I was able to find that easily complied with the diet’s restrictions (with the exception of a couple of salad dressings containing vinegar and the edamame-butternut hash, which I’m certain had a splash of maple syrup).  The second surprise, given the volume of food I consumed, was that my weight still remains exactly where it was before the trip (whoo hoo!).

I think all Whole Foods stores should have palm trees beside them, don’t you?.

I was delighted to find a wealth of options at the local Whole Foods (they’re like McDonald’s that way, aren’t they?  You can always count on them to be the same wherever you go), such as the tofu-rice salad (to the right in the display case below) which I ate along with roasted brussels sprouts for lunch our first full day in the city. 

An abundance of vegan options, from green beans to tofu salad to roasted brussels sprouts.  And at the back, there–could it be. . . SEITAN?

The HH and I even had a chance to stroll through the local Lincoln Mall, a series of streets closed to vehicular traffic, boasting a selection of upscale shops.  Here’s the HH strolling along the pathway (coy, isn’t he?):

Note the shirt AND sweater required–and we were actually a little underdressed!  Of course, it WAS the coldest winter in Miami in the last decade.

It was there I discovered a cute little café called Books and Books.  Just take a look at the vegan section on their menu:

Mmmm–so many options!  Should I have the Grilled Organic Tofu and Avocado Salad?  Perhaps the Black & White Bean Salad?  Or how about the Vegan Platter? 

Of course, I determined right then that we had to have a meal at the place. We planned our final “goodbye to Miami” brunch there and showed up bright and early (10:30 AM) on the day of our departure.  And then–Curses! The vegan menu applied only at lunchtime!  They did offer to prepare a breakfast tofu scramble in lieu of eggs, but since I’d ingested soy three times by then, I felt I’d reached my tofu limit.  We ended up back at Whole Foods, where I feasted on this:

Dolmades with 2 lentil salads (one with millet and one with quinoa).  Gotta love Whole Foods!

Having consumed our final meal in Miami, we were ready to leave the carnival atmosphere and below-60F (15 C) temperatures.  We packed up the rental car and bid my dad and the city adieu, heading out toward Highway 75 toward Sarasota, where we were scheduled to stay with my cousin Marketing Guru and his family. 

Next Time:  Fun in Sarasota.  A recipe.  And alligators!

Last Year at this Time: PS, I Love You: V-Day Dinner 2009

Two Years Ago: Pudding is a Virtue (raw carob-date pudding)

© 2010 Diet, Dessert and Dogs

* that’s “bites” in the sense of, “little tidbits that can be eaten in one mouthful,” rather than the sense of, “really sucks” (as in, “reality bites”) or even “little nibbles on the flesh of the one you love” (though, to paraphrase our most famous Prime Minister, DDD has no business in the kitchens of the nation–go ahead and nibble your sweetie, if you so please!).

[Two ACD-friendly confections: chocolate fudge on the left, carob-speckled halvah on the right (halvah recipe adapted from the one in Sweet Freedom)]

Well, it’s almost V-Day again.  So, got any plans? 

Over here in the DDD household, the HH and I long ago abandoned romance.  Or perhaps I should rephrase that:  the HH abandoned romance.  I, on the other hand (nerd alert! nerd alert!) am the kind of gal who would swim in a river of romance if I could find one.  I’d eat a triple-decker Banana Split of romance.  I’d paint a billboard of romance. I’d crochet a three-piece suit of romance. I’d sleep on a duvet of romance.  (“Mum, we’d sleep on a duvet of romance, too, you know.  Except you won’t let us on the furniture.”)

I’d–well, you get the idea. Basically, I’m just a big blob of schmaltz (in the figurative sense, that is.  I’m only a half blob of schmaltz in the literal sense, what will all that weight loss and everything). 

In our house, my approach to Valentine’s Day goes something like this:

February 17, 2009: start thinking about ideas for next year’s V-Day.

July 12, 2009:  while enjoying the outdoor jazz festival at the Beaches, surreptitiously write down all the HH’s favorite musicians so I can buy CDs for Valentine’s Day.

November 4, 2009:  Stop at craft store to select yarn to knit a romantic scarf for the HH for V-Day. If I start knitting now, I’ll have it for Feb 14th. 

January 15, 2010: So many cards for Valentine’s Day–which should I buy?  Can’t decide.  Buy two.

January 28, 2010: Browse through a plethora of blogs and magazines to find the perfect, romantic meal to cook up for Valentine’s Day. Consult existing list (alphabetized by course) to see which dishes would work best for the Big Feb One-Four.

February 2, 2010:  Forget the groundhog! Must choose the perfect ribbon to wrap the HH’s Valentine’s Day gift!

February 9, 2010: Consider how best to deliver the HH’s gifts for the Day of Hearts–only five days away!  Should I wrap each one separately, and hide them throughout the house in a kind of scavenger hunt?  Should I put them all in the same box, and wrap it as one gift?  Such decisions!

February 11, 2010: Pretend I’m baking for a TV spot when I am really secretly cooking up various kinds of chocolate truffles to include in my gift for the HH.

February 14, 2010:  Fill a shoebox with mini teddy bear, hand-knit scarf, bag of cinnamon hearts, boxes of homemade truffles, key chain with “I heart You” on it, Miles Davis CD and Card #1 (the sappy one).  Spend a couple of hours painstakingly drawing hearts and flowers plus line drawings of Ricki and the HH, in various shades of pink and red, on the outside of the shoebox, then wrapping with blue satin ribbon; stick Card #2 (the funny one) on the outside of the box. Set table with best linens (well, polyester made to look like linen, anyway), china, wine glasses and candlelight.  Play something soft and romantic like Satie’s Petite Overture a Danser, and wait for the romance to unfold.

The HH’s approach? Goes something like this:

February 14, 2010:  “So, is today one of those holidays where I have to get you a card or you get mad at me?”

Okay, I exaggerate.  He usually asks me that question on February thirteenth.

Well, for anyone with similar romantic aspirations to mine, I present you with little bites of chocolate fudge–ACD friendly.  These are an adaptation of the super-successful Fudge Two Ways I made a couple of years ago (and feel free to use that recipe if you can consume other sweeteners).  The communion of unsweetened chocolate, yacon syrup and stevia creates an irresistible flavor, a bittersweet blend of cacao underscored with subtle hints of molasses. 

Whether or not you’re hoping for romance this V-Day, these little bites will definitely bring some alluring chocolate into your life.  In fact, you may just fall in love.

I’ve also submitted this recipe to Ellen’s “I Am Gluten Free” list of treats (both sweet and savory) for Valentine’s Day--hop over to take a look.

Love Bites (ACD-Friendly Chocolate Fudge–suitable for Phase I or II)

[Little white dots of cashew and macadamia nut are visible throughout, a result of my home-ground nut butters; the storebought kind won't have these same speckles.]

3/4 cup (130 g) chopped good-quality unsweetened chocolate (I used Cocoa Camino); or use unsweetened carob chips for ACD Phase I

1 Tbsp (15 ml) coconut oil, preferably organic (USE ONLY with carob option)

1/4 cup (60 ml) natural smooth cashew-macadamia butter (I just mixed together half cashew, half macadamia nut butter); or use all-macadamia for ACD Phase I

1/8 tsp fine sea salt

2 Tbsp (30 ml) yacon syrup, vegetable glycerin, or a combination

10-20 drops plain, vanilla, or chocolate stevia liquid, depending on the brand and your desired sweetness level

1 tsp (5 ml) pure vanilla extract or vanilla paste

1/4 cup (30 g) coarsely chopped walnuts, if desired

Lightly grease a 6 inch (15 cm) loaf pan, or line with plastic wrap.

In a large glass or metal bowl set over a smaller pot of simmering water (the bottom of the bowl should not touch the water), stir the chocolate (or chips and coconut oil, if using carob chips) until melted and completely smooth.  Add the nut butter and salt and stir again until combined. Remove from the heat.

Add the yacon syrup, stevia, vanilla and nuts and stir well.  Turn the mixture into the prepared pan and smooth the top. 

Chill until set, about an hour; then cover with more plastic wrap and chill until very firm, 2 hours to overnight.  Turn out onto a cutting board, peel away the plastic wrap, and cut into small squares.  Makes 12-20 love bites.  Will keep, wrapped in the refrigerator, up to 2 weeks. May be frozen.

Last Year at this Time: Featured in Clean Eating!

Two Years Ago: My Mother’s Potato-Corn Chowder

© 2010 Diet, Dessert and Dogs

I heard there’s this thing calleed “Super Bowl Sunday” going on today.  Personally, I’ve never really seen the point.  I mean, seriously, what’s the big fuss?  A bunch of slightly overweight guys gripping a ball, then running and throwing it and then all that tumbling on the ground.  Gee, and all this time I thought bowling was already passé.  Silly me!

Well, pizza is one of those comestibles that suits any occasion, sporty Sunday or otherwise. . . so here’s my contribution to all those super bowlers out there.

While switching to a plant-based diet from a more omnivorous one can be traumatic for some, for me, meat was never much of an issue (I explain more about my relationship with meat on myAbout page). Instead, what I missed–and still miss, dearly–is my first love, milk chocolate.  Why does something sadly so devoid of nutritional value have to taste so darned good? I also miss whipped cream (so I made my own version), soft-serve ice cream (hard to find a suitable substitute here) and the occasional marshmallow (though come to think of it, all of those others have more to do with sugar content than dairy or eggs).

But meat? Naw.

One exception, though, is pepperoni on pizza.  Why the yearning for the greasy, paper-thin, spicy rounds of flesh and nitrates? I can’t be sure, but I think it may have something to do with Sundays during my childhood.

When I was a kid, my dad worked 6 days a week in his butcher shop, leaving our house before we children even emerged, creases still on our faces and with bed-head coiffures, for breakfast; he returned long after our dinner had left the table.  But on Sundays, presumably, he rested.  And what did he do instead every sabbath? He packed up the wife and kids into the family station wagon and drove back to that selfsame butcher shop so  my mom could do her weekly “grocery” shopping from the store!  (Sure, she had to go to the regular supermarket for other staples like lettuce, canned soup, canned tuna, etc., but meats, eggs, dairy and a dizzying array of imported crackers and cookies could be got at Dad’s shop). 

We’d pile into the car-cum-delivery truck, make the trek across the city through scenic TMR over to Jean Talon Boulevard and into the vacant store.  It was then the negotiations began. 

“I want a Fruitella!” the CFO would cry; I’d chime in, “No! how about some SweeTarts?”  The Nurse (if she graced us with her teenaged presence at all) would reach for the box of boozy European filled chocolates on the countertop. 

“Just one each,” our father would admonish, but if we were really lucky (or sneaky), we’d each make off with another prize as well, my favorite: the Icy Square.  Then we’d savor our sweets as my mother browsed the glass counters and chose her food for the week.

Behind the butcher block, suspended like offerings from the hand of some robotic deity, were huge salamis hanging on thick steel hooks. They dried in the open air, exuding droplets of fat as if sweating from the exertion of their acrobatic feat of hanging upside down. There were the thinner pepperoni sticks as well, and one in particular that my dad called “karnatzl“  (you can see what they look like here–scroll about halfway down the page). I never knew it at the time, but karnatzl is a Romanian word for the garlicky sausage–basially, thin pepperoni.  And they were my very favorite Sunday snack.

My father would snap off a length of the solid, dehydrated sausage for us to gnaw on as we roamed about the store while my mother completed her “shopping.”  The CFO and I would relish the crunchy, spicy meat that oozed with bits of gooey tallow in each bite.  The concept of biting into animal fat now makes me shudder both physically and emotionally, but back then I was a carefree eight year-old happy to munch on a stick of beef parts.

My love of pepperoni endured until my first year or so with the HH, when we enjoyed All-Dressed Pizza Night on a regular basis.  (I learned quickly when I moved to Toronto from Montreal that pizza is yet another way the two cities differ; in Toronto, you order by ingredient:  “Gimme a medium thin-crust with double cheese, mushrooms, peppers and tomato”; in Montreal, in contrast, pizza is distinguished by title:  “I’ll take a small Pepperoni” or “I’ll have a medium All-Dressed.”).  When I was growing up, all-dressed pizza meant sauce, cheese, green pepper, mushrooms–and lots of pepperoni.

I decided I wanted a pepperoni pizza.  No small feat, considering I don’t eat meat.  Or gluten.  Or cheese.

During my recent love affair with beets, I had a revelation: don’t those beet slices look sorta like slices of salami?  Hmm. . . I just had to try it.

The result is this faux pepperoni, perfect on pizza or anywhere else you’d use a spicy, smoky slice of meat (I had the leftovers in a sandwich with tomato, lettuce and onion–superb!).  The flavor is lovely, with only a hint of sweetness surviving the smoky, spicy marinade and baking time.  The key here is to slice the pieces thinly enough to bake up soft and then slightly crispy on the edges (as you’ll see from my photo, this batch is a little thick.  Must. Get. Mandoline.)  Too thick, and they still have the subtle earthy flavor of, well, beets.

I will warn you, to create the entire pizza from scratch takes time.  Next time, I’ll prep the cheese and pepperoni a day in advance, then cook up the crust and top it when I want to eat it for dinner.  But if you’re craving an All Dressed Pepperoni Pizza, this makes a great stand-in, without any wheat, heavy processing, sugar, fillers, or isolated soy protein. 

Now, isn’t that better than meat?

I’m entering this post in Food Renegade’s  Fight Back Fridays, dedicated to real food recipes, since everything in this pizza is true food!

And speaking of televised events.  .  .  for those of you in the Toronto area, I’ll be appearing on Rogers TV daytime show on Thursday, February 11th live at 10:00 AM (repeat at 5:00 PM) on cable channels 10 and 63 to discuss healthy chocolate Valentine’s Day treats.  Tune in and let me know what you think!

All Dressed Pizza with Pepperoni Slices (ACD-Friendly–Phase II)

It’s a classic. . . all-dressed pizza.  Great for family dinners, Super Bowl Sundays, or whatever occasion you please.

For the pizza:

1 recipe of your favorite pizza crust–I used this one

1 recipe of your favorite “cheese” (or use a premade one like daiya)–I adapted this one (my version below)

3/4-1 cup (180-240 ml) of your favorite pizza sauce (I made my own from canned tomatoes, basil, oregano and garlic powder, but this one sounds good)

toppings of choice: chopped green pepper, chopped red onion, black olives, mushrooms (if you can have ‘em) and PEPPERONI! 

For the pepperoni:

3-4 very small fresh beets, peeled and sliced extremely thin (if you have a mandoline, go for it)

1 Tbsp (15 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic

2 Tbsp (30 ml) Bragg’s liquid aminos OR tamari OR soy sauce

1/2 cup (120 ml) vegetable broth

1/4-1/2 tsp (1-2.5 ml) liquid smoke, to your taste*

1 tsp (5 ml) apple cider vinegar

2-3 drops plain stevia liquid or 1/4 tsp (1 ml) sugar

1/4 tsp (1 ml) garlic powder

1/4 tsp (1 ml) onion powder

1/4 tsp (1 ml) ground mustard

1/4 tsp (1 ml) fennel (ground is preferred)

1/8 tsp (.5 ml) sage

1/4 tsp (1 ml) smoked or regular paprika

Preheat oven to 325F (170 C).

Place everything except the beets in the bottom of a 9-inch (22.5 cm) square glass pan or a casserole dish and combine well.  Add the beet slices and toss to coat them all; spread them out as well as you can (overlapping slices is okay). 

Bake the slices, uncovered, for about 20 minutes, then remove from the oven and flip them over and around to re-coat them with marinade and switch the bottom slices to the top and top to the bottom as much as possible. Continue to bake and stir them up every 10-15 minutes until they have absorbed most of the marinade, are very soft, and begin to curl and crisp at the edges. Remove from oven and set aside until you need them for the pizza.

* If you can’t use liquid smoke because of candida issues, double up the smoked paprika.

For the sauce (adapted from this recipe):

1 cup (240 ml) vegetable broth

1 medium onion, coarsely chopped

2 cloves garlic, cut in half

1 large or 2 small carrots, cut in chunks

1 medium potato, peeled and coarsely chopped

1/4 cup (60 ml) raw cashews

1/4 cup (60 ml) melted coconut oil, preferably organic

1/2-1 tsp (2.5 -5 ml) fine sea salt, to your taste

2 more cloves garlic, minced

1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) yellow mustard powder

1 Tbsp (15 ml) freshly squeezed lemon juice

1/4 tsp (1 ml) ground black pepper

pinch cayenne pepper

1/4 tsp (1 ml) paprika

In a medium saucepan, combine the broth, onion, cut garlic cloves, carrots and potato and bring to a boil.  Lower heat to simmer, cover and cook for about 15 mintutes, until the vegetables are soft.  Drain, reserving the cooking liquid.  Set aside.

In the meantime, place the remaining ingredients in a blender and whir briefly to combine.  Add 1/2 cup (120 ml) of the vegetable liquid and the drained vegetables to the blender and blend to create a fairly thick, smooth sauce.  You will need to scrape down the sides several times and then blend again to ensure that everything is well incorporated (if you need a teeny touch more liquid, go ahead and add it–but don’t make the sauce too thin, or it will soak your pizza crust!).  Use to top your pizza.  Makes about 2 cups–too much for one pizza; I used leftovers on pasta the next day.

Assemble the pizza:

Preheat oven to 400F (200C). 

Spread tomato sauce on the prepared crust and top with a healthy drizzle of the cheese sauce.  Sprinkle with your toppings of choice.  Bake in preheated oven for about 15 minutes or until the pizza is warmed through.  Then top with the beet pepperoni slices as desired and bake another 10-15 minutes until piping hot. Makes one large pizza (feeds 2 in our house).

Last Year at this Time: Flash in the Pan: Grown-Up Fig and Walnut Baked Apples

Two Years Ago: If Vodka is an Elsie, then Beer is a Chaser

© 2010 Diet, Dessert and Dogs

Well, I suppose it had to happen eventually. . . winter has finally arrived in Toronto.  *Sigh*.  I really, really would love to live somewhere that I don’t have to don at least 4 layers of clothing (that would include torso, head, hands, and feet) in order just to walk out the door without permanently damaging my epidermis.  To allow the dogs a mere 12 minutes of romping at the local baseball field (that was all I could stand of the chill), it took 15 minutes to get dressed and another 10 to peel off the top 3 layers when I got home.  Dogs are lucky that way, aren’t they?  Permanent fur coat; gloves not required.  (“That may be true, Mum, and we love the cold, but you do have that opposable thumbs thing going on, which could definitely be perceived as an advantage.”)

Well, cold weather makes me think of soup.  And soup on a winter’s day makes me think of my mother’s chicken soup, a Friday night ritual in our house throughout my childhood, even though my dad worked late every Friday and didn’t even stride through the door until we kids were already in pyjamas.  Friday night was Chicken Soup Night.

And where do I come to parsnips from my mother’s soup, you might ask?  Why, in the soup itself.  The soup was begun early in the day, with Mom pulling out the largest stockpot in the house and filling it two-thirds full with water.  First, she’d tie up a whole bunch of fresh dill with twine (or, in a pinch, white sewing thread) and toss it in; then she’d add whole vegetables: one peeled onion; three peeled carrots; three stalks of celery; and a huge, peeled parsnip.  These were followed by hunks of chicken which simmered through most of the day, the flesh turning from pink to white to gray as it rose to the top of the pot, bobbing like the remnants of an airline catastrophe on the ocean, the heavy scent of chicken grease permeating the house.

Needless to say, I did not enjoy my mother’s chicken soup.

Of course, in those days, I had no idea that the seemingly anemic carrot my mother  used was called “parsnip”; I thought it was actually named “pietroshkeh” (pee-ET-rosh-keh), which is what my parents both called it.  (I also believed that the main character of my first children’s book–a tome I proudly read aloud, using my new skill of sounding out each and every letter–was called “Murse Rabbit,” until I was about 10.  It was then that The Nurse informed me “Mrs” was actually an abbreviation for “Missus.”  The humiliation!).

I still don’t know whether pietroshkeh is the Polish word (from my dad’s childhood in Poland) or the Russian word (from my mother’s ancestors), but I carried it with me until my late 20s, when someone served roasted parsnips to me at a holiday dinner and I asked what they were.  Imagine my surprise when I realized I’d already been eating them–and hating them–my whole life!

Luckily, I adored the roots in their roasted form.  Unlike the mushy, over-boiled parsnips of my mother’s soup, these actually tasted good.  And they had a subtle sweetness about them, the outsides partially caramelized through roasting, flavors mingling with the aromas of rosemary and thyme.  They were delicious!  Who knew they could be used in other ways besides watery, grey, fatty chicken soup?  Thus began a love affair with parnsips, and a quest to afford them their due.

I ate roasted parsnips, parsnips in faux mashed potatoes, or almond-crusted parsnips over the years, but I had never tried a baked good with parsnip.  Then, one Saturday at the organic market where I sold muffins and other treats a few years ago, a colleague brought in parsnip loaf.  Like a winter-pale version of its tanned carrot cousin, the parsnip loaf offered the same warming spices, slight sweetness and flecks of grated flesh distributed throughout.  Indeed, you can substitute carrot here if you prefer, but the parsnip adds its own unique character to the loaf, an understated spiciness and sweet appeal that no other vegetable can provide. 

Try these moist, flavorful quick breads, and I bet you’ll end up loving the lowly pietroshkeh, too.

Parsnip Mini Loaves or Muffins, with GF Option

A lovely, intensely flavored muffin for breakfast or an afternoon snack.  The fruity flavors of orange and banana meld wonderfully, and the parsnip adds moisture and substance with just a hint of its earthy flavor.

Version I (contains gluten)**:

finely grated zest and juice of one large organic orange (wash before zesting)

1/2 cup (90 g) Sucanat or other unrefined evaporated cane juice

1 medium very ripe banana, mashed or puréed

1 large parsnip (about 9 ounces or 250g), grated on medium blade of your food processor or largest holes on a box grater

1/4 cup (60 ml) sunflower or other light-tasting oil, preferably organic

1-3/4 cups (260 g) light spelt flour

1 Tbsp (15 ml) baking powder

1/4 tsp (1 ml) baking soda

1/4 tsp (1 ml) fine sea salt

2 tsp (10 ml) cinnamon

1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) ground nutmeg

1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) ground ginger

Preheat oven to 350F (180C).  Line 6 mini loaf pans or 9 muffin cups with paper liners, or spray with nonstick spray.

Pour the orange juice into a glass measuring cup and measure out 1/2 cup (120 ml).  If your orange didn’t yield at least 1/2 cup (120 ml) liquid, add water to equal that amount. 

Place the orange zest and juice in a medium bowl with the Sucanat, banana, parsnip and oil; mix well.  Set aside to allow the Sucanat to dissolve somewhat.

In a large bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, nutmeg and ginger. Add the wet ingredients to the dry and stir just to blend (do not overmix!). 

Using a large ice cream scoop or 1/3 cup (80 ml) measuring cup, scoop the batter into the prepared pans (they should be quite full).  Bake for 30-35 minutes, until a tester inserted in the center loaf or muffin comes out clean.  Cool 5 minutes before turning onto a rack to cool completely.  May be frozen.

Version II (Gluten Free)**:

finely grated zest of one large organic orange (wash before zesting)

3/4 cup (180 ml) pure orange juice

1/2 cup (90 g) Sucanat or other unrefined evaporated cane juice

1 medium very ripe banana, mashed or puréed

1 large parsnip (about 9 ounces or 250g), grated on medium blade of your food processor or largest holes on a box grater

1 Tbsp (15 ml) finely grated flax seeds

2 tsp (10 ml) finely grated chia seeds

1/4 cup (60 ml) sunflower or other light-tasting oil, preferably organic

1 cup (150 g) All-purpose gluten-free flour (I used Bob’s Red Mill, but you can use your own mix if you prefer)

1/4 cup (30 g) coconut flour

1 Tbsp (15 ml) baking powder

1/4 tsp (1 ml) baking soda

1/4 tsp (1 ml) fine sea salt

2 tsp (10 ml) cinnamon

1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) ground nutmeg

1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) ground ginger

Preheat oven to 350F (180C).  Line 6 mini loaf pans or 9 muffin cups with paper liners, or spray with nonstick spray.

In a medium bowl, place the orange zest, orange juice, Sucanat, banana, parsnip, flax seed, chia seed and oil; mix well, ensuring that the chia is well distributed and doesn’t clump.  Set aside to allow the Sucanat to dissolve somewhat.

In a large bowl, sift together the all-purpose flour, coconut flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, nutmeg and ginger.  Add the wet ingredients to the dry and stir just to blend (do not overmix!). 

Using a large ice cream scoop or 1/3 cup (80 ml) measuring cup, scoop the batter into the prepared pans (they should be quite full).  Bake for 30-35 minutes, until a tester inserted in the center loaf or muffin comes out clean.  Cool 5 minutes before turning onto a rack to cool completely.  May be frozen.

**NOTE:  These are NOT ACD-friendly recipes (since they contain banana and Sucanat; some anti-candida diets even prohibit oranges.  Sorry, my ACD cronies.) 

Last Year at this Time: Herb and Feta “Polenta” Appetizers

Two Years Ago: Turnip and Pear Soup (with apologies to Samuel Beckett)

© 2010 Diet, Dessert and Dogs

So.  Are we sick of giveaways yet?

Okay, I guess that the chance to win something you like–especially if it involves food you like–never becomes stale (even if the aforementioned foodstuff does). Still, with 2010 barely upon us, I’ve decided it’s time to give the giveaways a break.  I love being able to supply freebies to my readers, especially when it involves foods I already like–but I don’t want the whole  ”leaveacommentclickheretweetmeFBmeRTmewhydoyouwantthisprizenowpickacommentatrandom” thing to become stale.  So, for now I think, it’s time to get back to the core of this (or any food-related) blog: the food!

I must admit that 2009 was a strange year for me, food-wise.  Like the wallflower at the prom or Brad’s ghost in his old living room, all I could do was watch from afar (or, actually, aclose) while others indulged in some of my favorite comestibles, from chocolate to wine (ah, Shiraz, how I miss thee!), to portobellos, to peanut butter, to champagne on New Year’s (ah, Segura Viudas, how I really miss thee!).  Much of this blog before last March focused on just those ingredients.

And with there being no clear end-point to the whole ACD saga, I’ve decided to proceed as if I will be on the diet indefinitely.  (Audible gasps! Sounds of tsk-tsks and sympathetic clucking! Tears of pity from compassionate readers!).  In the end, I think it’s better this way. 

When I began this anti-candida quest, I assumed it would be for only a few weeks.  The universe, clearly, had other ideas.  In a way, I am grateful:  as long as I’m on this diet, I’m no longer overeating, I no longer binge on chocolate, and I no longer worry about my weight. (Seriously. The current tally is 43 pounds and holding steady; two more pounds lost, and I’ll be at my initial goal weight.) I know from my response to the recent chocolate truffles I concocted–in and of themselves, perfectly acceptable, totally innocuous and stevia-sweetened–that I still have not gained control over my sweets addiction, so I’m embracing any excuse to stay away from sweeteners that spike blood sugar (even if they’re all-natural, like maple syrup or Sucanat).

And in keeping with my lighter diet, I’ve decided that 2010 will be the year to lighten up. To wit:

1) Lighten Up My Weight.  Although I’ve now almost reached my goal weight, a quick calculation of my BMI places my goal weight barely within the “normal” range for such things (at 23.7).  Since I’m fairly small-boned, I’d prefer to settle smack-dab in the middle range, at around 22.  This would necessitate another 10 pound loss.  And while I’m still not willing to count points, count calories, count carbs or follow any other type of “diet” (after all, I want to be able to follow an eating plan that I can maintain for the rest of my life), I do plan to focus a bit more on raw foods, fruit and vegetables, and a bit less on fat in my diet for a while to see what happens. 

2) Lighten Up This Blog.  Not to imply that I’ve been moribund or anything in this space, but I do feel as if the initially carefree, slightly irreverent posts of yore have been lacking lately.  Maybe it’s my SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) or remnants of the SAD (Standard American Diet) in general. Or maybe I’ve just been sad about the lingering candida. Whatever the case, it seems that humor wandered off a while ago, and must be enticed to return. And so, like Norman Cousins in his hospital bed, I’m vowoing to bring more laughter into my life.  As my old high school chum John used to tell me, Don’t take take life seriously–after all, you’ll never get out alive. 

Of course, illness is serious business, and I’m not suggesting that anyone be irresponsible (not a grain of sugar shall pass through my lips!)–but I’d like to learn to relax more and perhaps deal with stress and worry a bit more effectively.  It makes sense that more laughter and less stress can only be a good thing, especially when study after study has demonstrated that stress itself contributes to disease.  And if I haven’t earned a little whimsy at my age, when will I?

So, from now on, I resolve to enjoy more of what makes me smile: time with the HH and The Girls, my friends and family. Watching dopey movies. Going to places I haven’t been before (I think I hear the antipodes calling).  Reading books that make me think, and books that make me envy the writer’s craft.  Writing more.  Moving my body more. Dancing to old records (Culture Club, anyone?). Experimenting in the kitchen more (no, no, with food, silly!). Blogging more.

No more fretting over insignificant events for me!  I mean, will the world end if the HH doesn’t mow the lawn when he says he will (or even within a week of when he says he will)?  So what if our lawn resembles the “before” picture in Field of Dreams?  The Girls surely won’t mind, as they enjoy gamboling and frolicking in tall grasses. Will my students evaporate if they don’t get their papers back within 3 days?  (And at least I’ve never been as tardy as my former prof, Dr. E, who sometimes took six weeks to return essays to us–and when he did, they sported a single comment, sometimes only one word, at the top of the page: “Splendid!” or “Well done!” beside a letter grade. That averages out to approximately one word a day.) Similarly, will the universe implode if I’m stuck in traffic and can’t meet my friend Gemini I for lunch at precisely 12:15 PM, as agreed? Of course not (although traffic does sometimes feel like a black hole).

Wow.  I feel lighter already.

3) Lighten Up Your Sweets. A more immediate way to lighten up is with this dessert. Does anyone out there remember Jello 1-2-3?  Well, this mousse-like concoction reminds me of the top layer of that treat:  exceptionally light and airy, yet sweet, rich, and fruity (even though it doesn’t contain any fruit to speak of, as you’ll see below).  The color is vibrant and happy–light-hearted, even–and the flavor is a tantalizing combination of coconut, almond and vanilla, with an enigmatic source of sweetness blended in. 

Like so many recipes on food blogs this time of year, this one possesses detoxifying properties as well, since one of its main ingredients is cooked beets (there–I’ve said it. But it doesn’t taste like beets, I promise!). Besides adding that brilliant fuchsia color and a mysterious sweetness to the dessert, beets are also great blood detoxifiers and liver toners.  In addition, they’re a good source of fiber, contain cancer-fighting antioxidants, and help reduce inflammation in the body.  What other dessert can boast such benefits?

So when you serve this mousse to your friends and family, don’t tell them the secret ingredient.  Instead, just present them with a beautiful, fluffy, pillowy dessert.  Then you can smile knowingly as you watch them gobble it up.  And if they do balk at beets in a confection, well, just tell them to lighten up a little.

Crimson Mousse

Boiling the beets helps to remove any trace of earthy flavor here; what remains is a vague sweetness and stunning hue.  I’ve tried baking the beets instead, and while the color becomes even more intense in that case, so  does the “beety” flavor; I wouldn’t advise it.

1 medium beet, peeled, diced and boiled until very soft (at least 30 minutes)

1/3 cup (55 g) raw cashews

1 cup (240 ml) full fat coconut milk

2 Tbsp (30 ml) whole chia seeds, measured first and then ground in a coffee grinder to a fine powder

1/4 tsp (1 ml) pure almond extract

1/4 tsp (1 ml) coconut extract (optional)

1 tsp (5 ml) pure vanilla extract

15-25 drops stevia liquid, to taste (will depend on the brand)**

1 Tbsp (15 ml) freshly squeezed lime juice

pinch fine sea salt

Once the beets are soft, drain them well (you can reserve the liquid for soup or other uses).  Place the drained beets and remaining ingredients in a high speed blender* and blend until perfectly smooth, pushing the mousse down into the blades occasionally as necessary.  Turn the mixture into a bowl, cover and refrigerate at least 4 hours or overnight (refrigerating allows the cashews to absorb some of the liquid and the mousse to thicken).  Spoon or pipe into serving dishes and top with coconut whipped cream, if desired.  Makes 4 small or 3 large servings.

* I used a VitaMix, but I’m sure this would work in a regular blender, too, if you have patience.  In a conventional blender, I’d do it this way:  pour coconut milk and all other ingredients except beets and chia into the blender and blend until the mixture is smooth.  Add beets and blend again until perfectly smooth; then add the chia and blend to combine.  You may need to blend in smaller batches this way, and then stir the contents together in a bowl before refrigerating.

** You can use agave or maple syrup if you prefer, but make these changes: use 1/4 cup agave or maple syrup, remove about 2 Tbsp (30 ml) of the coconut milk and increase cashews to 1/3 cup plus 2 Tbsp (70 g) before blending.

Last Year at this Time: Sweet Potato Smoothie

Two Years Ago: Fig Bread and Restorative Soup

© 2010 Diet, Dessert and Dogs

Whew!  Well, it took me a little longer to get to this post than anticipated.  But I’m happy to report that my stack of exams has all been marked, the final grades submitted, and all that remains of this semester are a few meetings next week.  And then: par-tay!

Come to think of it, I already hosted my first party this season (except that makes it sound as if there will be more than one, doesn’t it?), a pot luck dinner a for some friends from nutrition school. Though only two of us are vegan, everyone brought along a vegan dish. Aren’t they an amazing, open-minded crowd?  This year, in fact, almost everyone managed an ACD-friendly dish as well, so I was able to partake of almost everything.  Here’s what we feasted upon:

Appetizers:

• Roasted Red Pepper and Apple Dip with Cassava crackers
• Raw collard wraps with hummus and veggies (a HUGE hit with the guests–thanks for the inspiration, Melody!)
• Baba ganoush with rice crackers
• Veggie Pâté with rice crackers

Sides:

• Tossed baby greens with dried organic cherries
• Cous Cous salad with olives and veggies
• Greek Lemon-Roasted Potatoes (a fabulous, ultra-easy recipe that I will post about anon!)

Mains:

• Curried Lentil and Edamame Stew
• Holiday Nut Loaf (from the ACD Ebook) with Smoky Almond Gravy

Desserts:

• Chocolate Macaroons
• Sweet Potato Pie
• Marble Cake
• Hazelnut Melting Moments cookies

Herbal tea, Perrier, red wine

These Hazelnut Melting Moments (one of my contributions, and one of the foods I couldn’t eat, ironically) are my remake of a confection I used to serve all the time at dinner parties.  They speak of the holidays to me, so I figured I’d whip up a batch (well, if you heard cookies talking, could you say “no” to them?  Lucky for me I don’t hear dead people).  

Way back in my 30s, I lived in a basement apartment. Of all the places I’ve lived as an adult (with the exception of the wee postwar bungalow I owned when I first met the HH), that apartment was my favorite.  Why, you ask?  Well, you know what they say: ”location, location, location.” 

You see, the place was situated on the venerable Heath Street in Toronto, just a hop, skip and condominium or two from the St. Clair subway and in the tony Forest Hill area of town.  The building itself was a renovated Victorian mansion; our landlady had gone to some trouble to furnish the upper three flats with marble bathroom tiles, hardwood floors, stylish light fixtures and even reverse-osmosis water filtration systems in the kitchens. 

My place, on the other hand, hadn’t been upgraded a whit; it was, simply, a basement apartment, much like any other (except in the basement of a lovely old mansion in a wealthy area of town, of course). Perhaps my landlady assumed people in that part of the city wouldn’t lower themselves–no pun intended–to live in subterranean digs; whatever the reason, I couldn’t believe how affordable the place was, and leapt at the chance to move in.  

It may have been a basement, with peephole-sized windows that framed pedestrians’ footwear as they trod by above; it may have been a haven for a constant procession of bugs, spiders and even the errant mouse on occasion (I’m sure you must have heard me shriek when I first spied that little rodent taking a stroll through my living room); it may have housed the furnace for the entire building in my coat closet (the other tenants regularly knocked on my door at all hours of the day or night to ask me to turn up the heat); but I loved it.  It was clean, it was roomy, and it was warm (courtesy of aforementioned furnace).

And it was the setting for many a dinner party.  

These days, one event a year seems like plenty; but back then–what I now consider “The Year of Living Sociably”–I’d use any excuse to entertain. Your birthday? Let me throw you a party! Got a promotion? I’ll cook dinner for you and four friends!  Just adopted a daughter from China?  Let’s have the entire group who flew over from Canada to my place! 

It was my first apartment on my own after I got divorced from the Starter Husband, and I took every opportunity to socialize.  I even held my divorce ceremony and subsequent “I’m Free!” reception there. And I hosted a “I think I’m in love” bash when the HH and I finally got together. 

Like a regular guest, these Hazelnut Melting Moments made an appearance at almost every gathering (though they never stuck around to the end of the soirée).  Partway between a shortbread and a chocolate chip cookie, they are slightly sandy, buttery, with a hint of citrus.  Topped with a melty pool of chocolate that oozes and dribbles on your chin if you eat them while still warm (not that I’d have any experience with such things), they’re an indulgent treat for the season. My newfangled version, either gluten-free or not, as you like, was every bit as delicious as the original (luckily, my guests ate them all, so I wasn’t tempted).

The cookies keep well, and would make a wonderful holiday gift. Something, say, to bring along to a party.  

Hazelnut Melting Moments Times Two

Because these beauties are similar to shortbread and not cakelike, they are easily adaptable to gluten free cooking.  I’ve made both versions (the GF at my pot luck, and in these photos), and they were a huge hit with everyone.

1/3 cup (60 g) Sucanat or any unrefined evaporated cane juice

1 Tbsp (15 ml) water

2 tsp (10 ml) pure vanilla extract

1/3 cup (80 ml) coconut oil, preferably organic, soft at room temperature (but not melted)

1/4 tsp (1 ml) nutritional yeast, optional (adds a richness to the flavor)

2 tsp (10 ml) lemon or orange zest

1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) finely ground chia seeds

1 cup (240 ml) finely ground hazelnuts (filberts), either raw or lightly toasted before grinding*

1-1/4 cups (175 g) light spelt flour or 1 cup plus 2 Tbsp (270 ml) all purpose GF flour (I like Bob’s Red Mill AP flour)*–or use your own favorite combination of gluten free flours

3 oz (85 g) semisweet chocolate chips

Preheat oven to 325F (165C).  Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper, or spray with nonstick spray.

In a large bowl, mix together the Sucanat, water and vanilla until the Sucanat begins to dissolve.  Add the coconut oil, nutritional yeast, vanilla, lemon zest and chia seeds and mix well. 

Remove 2 Tbsp (30 ml) of the ground hazelnuts and set aside in a small bowl. Add the remaining hazelnuts  and flour to the bowl and mix well until the dry ingredients are incorporated and you have a stiff dough.  Work it with your hands if necessary until the dough holds together (if it is really dry, add up to one more Tbsp or 15 ml of water).  The dough should NOT be sticky or too soft.

Using a small scoop or teaspoon, scoop out portions of dough and work them in your hands to create balls.  (The GF dough may be too dry to roll it in your palms; I squeezed it in my fist, moving it back and forth from one hand to the other and squeezing it together each time I passed it back and forth, until it held together.) Place the balls about 1-1/2 inches (4 cm) apart on the cookie sheet.

Using your thumb or index finger, press an indentation on the top of each cookie (this may cause the outer edges of the GF cookies to crack or separate; just push them back together with your fingers). 

Bake in preheated oven for 15-20 minutes, until golden around the edges.  While the cookies bake, melt the chocolate in the top of a double boiler of over extremely low heat, stirring constantly. Fill each indentation with about 1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) melted chocolate, then sprinkle with a bit of the 2 Tbsp (30 ml) of reserved ground hazelnuts. Cool and devour. Makes 12-15 cookies. May be frozen.

* If you’re using metric measures, I apologize for using volume measurements instead of weight for the nuts and flours; my kitchen scale has broken, and I couldn’t wait to post the recipe!  Will buy a new scale this weekend.

Last Year at this Time: Gastronomic Gifts IV: Jam-Filled Turnovers

Two Years Ago:  Dog Day: Is That a Treat in Your Pocket, or Are You Just Happy to See Me?

© 2009 Diet, Dessert and Dogs 

[I thought it would be fun to run a little series over here at DDD: I'll profile one one of my favorite foods, or a food that I've recently discovered and enjoyed, over several days.  The series is presented on an occasional (and entirely arbitrary) basis, before I move on to the next lucky comestible. This is the final entry on apples.]

Even though it’s the US Thanksgiving holiday (Happy Thanksgiving, all!) and I’m Canadian, (we in the Frozen North celebrated last month), I am still feeling incredibly thankful today. There are the obvious, quotidian reasons: my (long-suffering, incredibly tolerant and indulgent-of-my-quirks) HH, The (furry, funny and entirely fetching) Girls, my dear friends and family. 

But perhaps less obviously yet just as importantly, I’m thankful for the world of bloggers, my blog buddies (both new and long-standing) and amazing readers and commenters who visit this site.  I’m sure you all know that a blog is a lonely, deserted space without the community of readers and commenters, but perhaps we bloggers don’t acknowledge that often enough.  So thanks, folks, for sticking around and taking part.  I love (lurrrrve) hearing from you!

And–there’s more!  Right about now, I’m thankful for my lucky streak these past few days. I’d say I feel like one of the luckiest bloggers in the world.  Why?

EXHIBIT “A”: Prize Number One!

I was the delighted recipient of a package that arrived in the mail this week, from the lovely Elizabeth at Don’t White Sugar Coat It.  I won Elizabeth’s “Stevia in the Raw” giveaway, and was tickled to open up the box to see this:

I’ve never used powdered stevia before and haven’t encountered this particular brand, either, so I am keen to get started creating recipes!  Today’s giant pancake was made with this new ingredient (yum!).  Thanks so much, Elizabeth–I can’t wait to see what other ACD-friendly goodies I can whip up with it!

EXHIBIT “B” : Prize Number Two!

But wait, folks, there’s more! Yesterday, I received an email from Ashley over at Eat Me, Delicious , informing me that I was also the winner of her Epicure Selections package!  This generous giveaway prize is made up of some awesome baking tools and ingredients (including some mouthwatering Belgian chocolate–mmmm!).  Of course I’ll post about the package, with photos, when it arrives; all I can do for now is dream about what I’ll concoct, and drool.  How lucky can one gal get? Thank you, Ashley!

EXHIBIT “C”: Prize Number THREE!!!!

I know, it’s totally outrageous that I would win THREE prizes–and, in fact, I didn’t!  Instead, I’m giving this prize away to one of you!  I’ll be holding my own giveaway next time (be sure to come back and check in)–but for now, perhaps I can entice you with this lovely teaser photo.  Can you tell what this prize will be?  All I will say is that it’s beautiful, it’s healthy, and I try to consume some every day. . . and it’s not chocolate! For all the details and how to enter, see my next post. 

Gee, I could kinda get used to this Thanksgiving thing!

Well, I couldn’t end this Lucky Comestible: Apple series without a dessert (especially since I promised to include one dish for each course of the meal). Now, I know that a pancake is traditionally a breakfast food, but the base was so cakelike that I decided to use it in this post.  Besides, if I can eat dessert for breakfast on occasion (okay, too many occasions to mention), well, why not breakfast for dessert?

I’ve been thinking about giant pancakes ever since I read Alisa’s post a while back on her Apple Dutch Baby.  This delicacy isn’t quite as puffy or moist as a true Dutch Baby, but it does have an authentic pancake fluffiness.  By placing the apples under the batter, you ensure complete cooking (and won’t end up with those underbaked, slightly crunchy slices you get sometimes in muffins or quick breads).  Then, when you flip it over, you’ll have a lovely and visually impressive treat to serve your guests, your family–or just yourself.

I made these with almost no added sweetener, as I enjoy the natural sweetness of the apple. For breakfast, I serve my slice with almond butter for a complete meal.   To serve the pancake as a conventional dessert, however, I’d add the suggested sweetener to the recipe, and would even top each serving with some maple syrup and perhaps a dollop of whipped cream.  A berry coulis would also be superb drizzled over the top of the pancake.

And if a delectable, ACD-friendly pancake for dessert isn’t something to be thankful for, well, I don’t know what is.

“Mum, we’re thankful for your pancakes, too.  Especially the leftover ones that you give to us.  Oh, and squirrels.”

Giant Baked Upside-Down Apple Pancake

A perfect weekend breakfast or dish for a brunch crowd.  Slice and wrap pieces of the pancake, then store in the fridge for breakfast throughout the week.

Apple Botton/Top:

1 large sweet apple (such as Gala or Delicious), peeled, cored and cut in thin slices

1 Tbsp (15 ml) cinnamon

2 Tbsp (30 ml) Sucanat (omit for ACD-friendly version)

Pancake Batter:

1/3 cup (80 ml) cashew butter, room temperature

1/2 cup (120 ml) unsweetened applesauce

1 tsp (5 ml) pure vanilla extract

1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) pure almond extract (optional)

2 Tbsp (30 ml) agave or maple syrup, 15-20 drops stevia liquid, or 2 packets dry stevia (such as the Stevia in the Raw I won!)

1 tsp (5 ml) finely ground chia seeds or 1 Tbsp (15 ml) ground flaxseeds

3/4 cup (180 ml) plain or vanilla soy, almond or rice milk

1/3 cup (50 g) brown rice flour

1/4 cup (60 ml) coconut flour

1/4 cup (60 ml) oat flour (or grind oats in a coffee grinder to a fine powder)

1 tsp (5 ml) ground cinnamon

2-1/2 tsp (12.5 ml) baking powder

1/4 tsp (1 ml) baking soda

1/8 tsp (.5 ml) fine sea salt

Preheat oven to 350F (180C).  Line a large tart pan, springform pan or pie plate with a circle of parchment paper; then grease both the pan AND the paper (this is necessary to ensure that the  fruit bottom unmolds properly; if you don’t intend to flip the pancake over after it’s baked and you just cut slices straight from the pan, you can omit the parchment).

In a small bowl, combine the apple, 1 Tbsp (15 ml) cinnamon and Sucanat, if using.  Toss with a spoon or your hands until all the slices are coated, taking care to separate any slices that stick together (discard any coating that’s left at the bottom of the bowl). Place the slices in a single layer (or just slightly overlapping) over the bottom of the pan in a decorative arrangement. Set aside.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the cashew butter, applesauce, vanilla, almond extract, agave or stevia and chia until combined.  Slowly add the soymilk and whisk until well mixed.  Set aside.

In a large bowl, sift together the remaining ingredients. Add the wet mixture and stir until well combined.  Carefully drop the batter by spoonfuls evenly over the surface of the apples, then spread gently to cover all the fruit, disturbing the slices as little as possible.  Smooth the top (it’s okay if a few bits of apple stick out here or there).

Bake the pancake in preheated oven for 35-45 minutes, rotating the pan about halfway through, until the top is golden, the edges are browned and a tester inserted in the center comes out clean.  Remove from oven and allow to cool completely.  Once cool, carefully run a knife along the outside edge of the pancake to loosen it. Invert a serving plate over the pan and flip it over (the pancake should fall right out onto the plate). Gently peel off the parchment paper (the apples should be in the same positions as they were when the pancake went into the oven; if they’re not, carefully rearrange them on top of the pancake).  

Serve with maple syrup, fruit purée, or ice cream.  Makes 6-8 servings. May be frozen.

Last Year at this Time: Holiday Brunch-Worthy: Tofu Omelet with Pesto, Caramelized Onions and Mushrooms

Other Posts in this Series:

• Lucky Comestible 6(1): Roasted Red Pepper and Apple Dip
• Lucky Comestible 6(2): Classic Waldorf Salad
• Lucky Comestible 6(3): Apple and Red Wine Soup (with anti-candida variation)
• Lucky Comestible 6(4) Potato Terrine with Apples and “Goat Cheese”

Other Apple-Based Recipes You Might Enjoy:

• Tofu Omelet with Sautéed Apples and Sweet Curry Sauce
• Apple-Quinoa Cake (gluten free)
• Earth Bowl Breakfast (yikes! Getta loada that photo!)
• Apple Noodle Pudding (Kugel)
• Grown-Up Baked Apples with Walnuts and Figs
• Mock Green Papaya Salad

Other Lucky Comestibles:

• Lucky Comestible 1: Sweet Potato
• Lucky Comestible 2: Quinoa
• Lucky Comestible 3: Avocado
• Lucky Comestible 4: Coconut
• Lucky Comestible 5: Cilantro

© 2009 Diet, Dessert and Dogs