[Whipped "buttercream" variation. Go ahead. . . lick the beaters.]
When we were kids, my sisters and I used to crowd round my mother every time she baked something (coffee cake, chocolate chip cookies, cheesecake, or her legendary chiffon cake) just so we could vie for who’d get to lick the beaters, or bowl, or spoon (this was before the days of, “eggs carry salmonella” and “never share a spoon with your sister” and “kids aren’t allowed near the electric beaters,” of course).
At those times when she also frosted the cake–if she were making a layer cake for guests, say, or a custom cake for one of our birthdays–the competition turned a little more fierce. Frosting-laden beaters or icing from the bowl were the real prizes. And when it was finally my birthday and I got to choose whichever piece of cake I wanted, I always selected the corner slice, since it contained the largest percentage of icing roses (because, really, that was the real reason I was eating the cake in the first place).
Around the time we began to bake our own cakes (when I was about seven or eight), the CFO and I quickly figured out that it wasn’t necessary to mix up a batter, bake it, cool it and frost it just so that we could get our icing fix; we started mixing up icing on its own, in soup bowls (my mother, who was at work and never got home before dinnertime, had no idea about our little habit, of course).
Even throughout my twenties and thirties when I had my own apartment in the city, I continued to feed my habit and would get my frosting fix on a regular basis. Ironically, at that time, I appeared outwardly healthy and slim, yet unknowingly feeding the latent spores in my system (doesn’t that sound incredibly sci-fi? Ooooh, creepy!). How could I have known that I was actually nurturing candida through my addiction?
When I first made today’s recipe, I was at first reminded of the frosting of my youth. True, feasting on frosting may not compare with shooting heroin, or snorting cocaine, or gambling compulsively, but it is an addiction nonetheless. I had completely forgotten about the old habit, burning it from my memory the way Bette Davis burns off her fingerprints so she can impersonate her twin sister in Dead Ringer. Around a dozen years ago, I had stopped cold turkey (cold ganache?) when the candida made itself known through a cluster of severe, chronic symptoms that all appeared within a few weeks of each other.
Totally unlike the icing of my youth, however, today’s recipe (a) has no refined sugar; (b) is low on the glycemic index; (c) contains a vegetable, for goodness’ sake!; and (d) is anti-candida friendly (if you’re in the later stages of the diet, as I am now). And guess what? Even though I assumed I’d want to eat it all, I discovered–miraculously–that this frosting doesn’t trigger the desire to consume the entire bowlful, even if I indulge my inner child and lick the beaters. It’s so full of nutrient density that I wasn’t able to eat more than a couple spoonfuls (no, seriously).
I spread some of this “buttercream” on the grain-free mini cupcakes from Kelly’s Divine Vegan Chocolate Cake recipe (have you entered the giveaway yet to win her book??) and later used it as the filling in my own Chocolate Whoopie Pies–my very first whoopee pie, ever! The HH sampled a whoopee pie and declared, “These taste just like regular baked goods.” Whoo hoo!
It feels great to know that I’ve kicked the frosting habit–well, even though I may have started a new frosting habit. This time, it’s a habit I’m happy to share.
This frosting can be used as soon as it’s mixed at room temperature as a dark, fudgy chocolate frosting that can be piped and will hold its shape. For a lighter frosting, refrigerate until firm and then whip into a “buttercream”. Either way, no one will believe what is–and isn’t–in this!
1/2 cup plus 2 Tbsp (150 ml) sweet potato purée (I always use homemade for this, so can’t vouch for the canned variety. I bake rather than boil my potatoes to bring out the natural sweetness as much as possible, then cool, peel and purée).
3 Tbsp (45 ml) coconut sugar
15-25 drops plain or vanilla stevia liquid, to your taste (I use NuNaturals)
2 tsp (10 ml) pure vanilla extract
pinch fine sea salt
1/4 cup (60 ml) carob powder**
2.5 ounces (65 g) good quality unsweetened chocolate (I use Cocoa Camino)
1/4 cup (60 ml) smooth natural cashew butter or sesame tahini (for nut-free)***
2 Tbsp (30 ml) extra virgin coconut oil, preferably organic
Place sweet potato, coconut sugar, stevia, vanilla and salt in food processor and process to blend. Add the carob powder and process until combined. Set aside.
In a small, heavy-bottomed pot, place the chocolate, cashew butter and coconut oil over low heat. Stir constantly until chocolate melts; remove from heat. Turn the mixture into the food processor and blend everything until smooth and creamy, scraping down sides as necessary.
Note: if the coconut oil begins to separate (the mixture will appear oily and a bit curdled), OR if you find that the mixture is too thick, add one tablespoon more of the sweet potato purée at a time and blend again; it should come together in a silky, spreadable frosting.
May be used immediately as a fudgy frosting; or else refrigerate until firm, then beat with electric beaters until fluffy and lighter in color for a “buttercream” frosting.
Makes about one cup (240 ml), enough for one layer or 12 mini cupcakes. Avoid the urge to eat most of it straight from the spoon. May be frozen; defrost overnight in the refrigerator, then bring to room temperature and beat with electric beaters before using. Great in these Whoopee Pies!
**I use carob powder because it adds a bit of sweetness that allows me to use less stevia. However, if you can use sweeteners, feel free to substitute cocoa instead of carob and add a bit more coconut sugar or some agave nectar to taste.
*** I’ve made this both with cashew butter and tahini (and one batch with cashini–a mix of the two) and I don’t taste the sesame in the finished product. Chocolate is great that way!
With all of my 175 students’ assignments, exams and final marks finally submitted–I am now officially on holidays until 2011–whoo hoo! That makes me one very celebratory gal. Par-tay, I say!
And how about having everything all ready to start cooking my big holiday meal?
Um, no. (Insert sheepish expression here).
“Mum, did you say, ‘sheep?’ I’m half border collie, you know. And just being off-leash at the trail is enough of a party for me!”
In an ideal world, I would not only know exactly which dishes I’m cooking, but would have prepared an entire rehearsal Christmas dinner already, expressly for the purpose of photographing and writing about it for this blog (excuse me while I guffaw).
For the past two years, the HH and I have shared an Indian feast at Christmastime with the CFO, who’s made the trek from Montreal. The CFO isn’t able to join us this year, and I have a feeling that the multi-course Indian buffet will also make itself scarce, at least for this year.
I do have a couple of great ideas for potential dishes I’ve been wanting to try (and about which I’ll post, post-holidays.) But what with the HH’s accident; frenzied shopping for a new car; a fire at the campus where I teach resulting in only TWO days to mark all my students’ exams and submit them; a last-minute invitation to appear on a local daytime TV show (which happened this very morning)–I haven’t yet decided exactly what we’ll be eating at the festive table. Throw in a couple of doctor’s appointments, a visit to the vet, a haircut and typical holiday-time social activities, and there has been precious little time to cook.
If you’re like me and still thinking about what to prepare, I thought I’d share this list of some of my favorite holiday-worthy recipes (many of these are not yet listed in the Recipe Index–updating it is one of my new year’s projects!).
All are ACD-friendly recipes (ie, gluten free, sugar free, dairy free, egg free, low glycemic) unless otherwise specified.
And to everyone who’s celebrating this time of year: have a wonderful holiday season!
I hope you’re all having a great long weekend! I am thoroughly enjoying the last vestiges of the summer holiday. (What?? Summer is over? Back to school and sweaters and crinkly leaves on the ground and pelting rain and mud and paw prints all over the carpet and frigid mornings and seeing your breath as you huddle toward the car–in the dark–and cranking up the heat and pulling out the jackets and scarves and gloves and snow–snow!–and ah, me, it’s winter and—)
Sigh. Sorry about that little outburst. I’ve regained my composure, now.
Besides, now that I’m an adult (chronologically, anyway), I do realize that autumn isn’t all bad. There’s the flavorful fall produce, and hand knit sweaters (which are so good at covering up those midsection lumps and bumps) and corduroy, and crisp, fresh air that sharpens everything, as if the houses and trees and automobiles have been outlined with a thin tracing of ink.
Oh, and a bevvy of holidays.
When I was growing up, we shared a duplex with my aunt’s family just upstairs. Because Aunty M (no relation to The Wizard of Oz) was almost 20 years older than my mom, and because our grandparents had died before we were born, we kids always thought of Aunty M as more ”grandmother” than “aunt.” And let me tell you, nothing could compare to holidays at Grandma’s house.
The otherwise utilitarian kitchen table, a long wooden rectangle stained and etched from years of daily use, would be pushed into the living room (there was no dining room), with what looked like its metal-and-plastic progeny–the folding card table–set beside it (that was where the kids sat, of course). Freshly laundered and pressed white tablecloths were shaken out and smoothed into place, intersecting lines permanently engrained in their weave from having sat, folded neatly in blocks in the linen closet, for the remainder of the year.
On these occasions, my real grandmother’s silverware was fetched from the basement, a lone “K” engraved proudly on the handle of each knife, fork and spoon. We had actual napkins at the table for once, and soda (or “ginger ale,” as we referred to all types of carbonated beverages) was served in glass pitchers rather than directly from the plastic bottles. Glasses were set out and glistened, scalloped pickle plates were laid out, and the entire house began to buzz with anticipation.
My mother and my aunt would spend days preparing in the kitchen as we children wandered in and out, plucking raisins from cookie dough or absconding with whole chunks of semisweet chocolate. We’d peek at the huge pots like mysterious cauldrons bubbling and spurting on the stovetop, never venturing too close. At same time, the oven toiled all day as it transformed jiggly pans into cakes, cookies, or kugels, warming the kitchen and spreading the aroma of chocolate, cinnamon, vanilla and apple throughout the house.
Holidays were family occasions, shared with as many relatives as possible. I loved it when my cousin CBC and her family made the trek from Boston, since her kids were close to my age and their arrival always meant days filled with giggling, plays in the back yard, a co-conspirator with whom to tease the CFO, and extra treats for everyone. Despite anything that had preceded, the holiday dinners themselves were always happy affairs; adults were jovial and relaxed, we kids were allowed to indulge in second helpings of dessert, and everyone embraced the festive atmosphere. Whether it was a holiday, anniversary, or birthday celebration, we all came together to enjoy each other’s company along with the feast.
(When the HH and I were first together, I was both shocked and appalled to discover that he grew up in a home that didn’t celebrate holidays. No big family gatherings; no special meals; no gifts. “All days are special,” was his (otherwise normal) dad’s philosophy. “Every day is a holiday.” In fact, the HH was so accustomed to his family’s indifference about such things that he didn’t bother to get me a birthday present that first year we shared a house. Oh, yes. Hysteria [mine] ensued. Contrition [his] followed closely behind. And no, he hasn’t made the same mistake since.)
This year, I was feeling a little disheartened at the prospect of those imminent celebrations and Christmas just around the corner (for which I now supply a list of desired items to the HH every year) precisely because food has always played such an integral role in our family gatherings. I hadn’t anticipated still being on the ACD by now, you see. No feasting? No wine with dinner? No–dessert?!
It was almost enough to make me jump on the HH’s ”let’s just ignore the date” bandwagon. But then I realized two things: first, we could still make the days special. We can still set a beautiful table and make a point of sharing the evening with friends or family. We can still enjoy nature’s bounty. And I can still enjoy special-occasion foods; they just won’t be the same ones I used to eat as a child.
In fact, once I began to think about it, I was amazed at how many foods have found their way back into my diet.
First, there was chocolate–albeit unsweetened–but chocolate nonetheless. In Stage Two, the ACD gave me fruit. Previously forbidden apples (and pears, and berries, and peaches and nectarines) were welcomed back to the menu. Finally, as the symptoms continue to abate (they’re about 95% cleared up, now) the universe continues to bestow more and more low glycemic sweeteners. And the Universe said, “Let there be coconut sugar. And with it, let there be the occasional agave nectar.” And so, life is good.
This pear and cranberry cornmeal cake is the first cake I concocted with coconut sugar. Since corn is so often a symbol of autumn harvest, I thought cornmeal would be a perfect ingredient to include in this celebration dessert. Like the coconut sugar, corn is an “occasional” food on the ACD. Pears are abundant right now, and cranberries are quintessential harbingers of the holidays and the festive season.
Like sparklers on a birthday cake, the cranberries in this moist, dense sweet add glitter and verve, a tangy counterpart to the smooth sweetness of the pear chunks dotted throughout. The cake presents a surprisingly fine crumb, and the addition of lemon zest brightens everything. In fact, this dessert was so good that I took a first bite and immediately thought, “Oh, no, I’m not supposed to be eating this on the ACD” before realizing that “Oh, yes, I am allowed this on the ACD!”
Well, in moderation. It is a special occasion food, after all. But then again, despite what the HH’s father may have thought, it’s not every day we celebrate a holiday.
For those of you who celebrate, have a Happy Rosh Hashanah!
I thought this cake would be an ideal submission to Amy’s Slightly Indulgent Tuesdays event. Hop over and take a look at all the other delicious creations!
DDD News and Updates:
There’s a New (FREE!) Ebook from the lovely Alisa of Go Dairy Free and One Frugal Foodie. When she noticed the sorry state of back-to-school foods in her area, Alisa decided to do something about it and recruited a group of food bloggers to contribute recipes for an e-cookbook. The book, Smart School Time Recipes, contains over 125 recipes (a few from yours truly!) for healthy, kid-friendly breakfasts, snacks, lunches and more! You can download the cookbook directly from Alisa’s blog, here. Have I mentioned that it’s FREE?
And don’t forget there’s my new ebook, Desserts without Compromise, for $9.95 (available here). Or buy both ebooks for just $16.95. Great for holiday meals and desserts if you’re on a special diet!
I also wrote a guest post last week for Amy’s blog, Simply Sugar and Gluten Free. Amy’s recipes and mine have a lot in common. Somehow the perfect recipe match brought to mind the perfect life partner. . . so that’s what I wrote about! Check out the post here. I had lots of fun writing it.
DDD Gets Around:
Again this week, I’ve been honored that several DDD recipes were prepared or mentioned by other bloggers or writers! Here are some of the recipes you’ve all made or blogged about:
Did you cook up something from the blog or one of my cookbooks? Let me know if I’ve missed your post and I’ll add it next time! (for cookbook recipes, please ask permission before posting).
Pear and Cranberry Cornmeal Cake (suitable for ACD Stage 3 and beyond)
This cake is the perfect combination of light yet substantial with sweet yet tart. It’s a great way to end a meal or carry you through in between one to the next. Feel free to substitute apples for the pears here.
1/3 cup (80 ml) coconut sugar
1/2 to 1 tsp (2.5 to 5 ml) pure stevia powder (I used NuNaturals)
3/4 cup (360 ml) unsweetened plain or vanilla almond or soy milk
1 tsp (5 ml) apple cider vinegar
1 Tbsp (15 ml) finely ground chia seeds
2 tsp (10 ml) pure vanilla extract
zest of one lemon
1/4 cup (60 ml) coconut oil, preferably organic, melted
1-1/2 cups (200 g) Bob’s Red Mill all purpose gluten free flour (or your own blend)
1/4 cup (35 g) brown rice flour
1 Tbsp (15 ml) baking powder
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) baking soda
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) fine sea salt
3/4 tsp (7.5 ml) xanthan gum
1/2 cup (85 g) cornmeal, preferably organic
2 pears, cored and diced (I didn’t bother to peel, but go ahead if you wish)
1 cup (240 ml) fresh or frozen cranberries
Preheat oven to 350F (180C). Line a ten inch (25 cm) flan pan, springrorm pan or pie plate with parchment, or spray with nonstick spray.
In a medium bowl, whisk together the coconut sugar, stevia, milk, vinegar, chia, vanilla and lemon zest until the sugar has dissolved. Add the coconut oil and whisk to blend. Set aside.
In a large bowl, sift the all purpose flour, rice flour, baking powder, baking soda, sea salt and xanthan gum. Add the cornmeal and stir together to distribute everything evenly.
Pour the wet mixture over the dry and stir to blend well. Fold in the pears and cranberries. Turn the batter into prepared pan and gently smooth the top. Bake in preheated oven for 35-45 minutes, rotating the pan about halfway through, until a tester inserted in the middle comes out clean. Serve warm or at room temperature. Makes 8-10 servings. May be frozen.
[Millet-quinoa bread topped with a smear of Caesar dressing (Clean Food recipe), faux egg salad, a few baby spinach leaves and sliced tomato. Now, that's a sandwich!]
So, if you read my recent post on Cheese-Filled Olive and Onion Bread, you’ll know that I was quite insistent about the lack of bread in my life: never liked the white stuff, my mom made awful sandwiches, bread was like styrofoam, yadda yadda yadda.
But that was all before I happened upon a blog post on Raw Eggless Salad that triggered something deep within my bread-hating brain. And before I knew it, I had pulled out the food processor to mix it up, right then and there.
Could this spread have sparked the end of the sandwich snub here at DDD? The demise of the Dagwood drought? A halt to the Hoagie hostility? A farewell to Fluffernutter disfavor?
Why, yes! Yes indeedy. And so it may come as a bit of a shock, dear readers, to learn that the other day, I broke my own vow and spoke the name of Moses used this raw eggless salad in a sandwich! It was great on its own, but somehow I felt compelled to slather it on a slice of bread, then gobble it down in a matter of minutes, before compulsively sniffing around the kitchen for a second serving, like Monk following a hot lead.
I came across this recipe on Shannon’s blog, Tri 2 Cook (cutest blog name, or what?), and was so intrigued I made my first batch without the dill, a key ingredient, as we had none in the house. Still mouth-wateringly good! Shannon got the recipe from a guest post on Gena’s blog, written by Melody (and if you managed to follow all that, I think you deserve a big Eggless Salad sandwich of your own).
While not truly akin to egg salad, something about the finely ground cauliflower and sunflower seed medley does approximate the feeling of that old-time sandwich filling fairly well; it’s a slightly creamy, slightly spicy, comforting spread that works beautifully with the crispness of lettuce and the dense moistness of a hearty slice of bread.
Despite the long list of ingredients, this is really a snap to prepare, especially in a food processor. Because I prefer a slightly more homogenous filling, I processed a bit longer than advised in the original recipe (I leave the graininess of the texture up to you). I also adapted the ingredients to be ACD (Phase II) friendly, since that’s where I’m at at the moment, but please do go check out the original version if you’re okay with nutritional yeast–I bet it adds a real boost of eggy, cheesy flavor.
Who knows? Maybe I’ll be a sandwich gal from now on. Because if eating my words means I get to relish sandwiches like this one, I’m happy to be proven wrong.
“Mum, if eating egg salad sandwiches means being wrong, we don’t want to be right, either. So feel free to share.”
Totally unrelated note: I’ve received a few emails asking about the “Last Yeat at This Time” links at the bottom of my blog entries (and have noticed that lots of bloggers have begun to include similar links at the ends of their own posts), so I thought I’d address the point here. To answer your questions, yes, I create these links manually, by going through the archives and finding the posts that correspond to each date. I wish I could take credit for the idea, but Smitten Kitchen has been doing this for years (three years, actually!).
To those who celebrate, hope you have a very happy Easter holiday, and a great long weekend to all! (And please note, no eggs were harmed in the making of this sandwich filling!)
And finally: I’ll be doing a book demo at Qi Natural Foods in Toronto this Saturday between 11:30 and 2:30. If you’re in the GTA, please drop by to sample some goodies from Sweet Freedom, take a look at the book, and say “hi”! I’d love to see you there.
Despite the long list of ingredients, this is fairly quick to throw together because of the food processor. You can eat this right away, but the flavors and textures seem to mature and improve after a day in the fridge.
1/2 cup (120 ml) nutritional yeast*
1 tsp (5 ml) dried sage
1 Tbsp (15 ml) dried dill, or 1/4 cup (60 ml) chopped fresh
1 Tbsp (15 ml) dried parsley, or 1/4 cup (60 ml) chopped fresh
1/2 tsp (2. 5 ml) garlic powder
1/4 tsp (1 ml) turmeric
1/4 cup (60 ml) tahini
1/4 cup (60 ml) yellow mustard*
2 Tbsp (30 ml) Dijon mustard*
2 medium naturally fermented dill pickles (most kosher dills–the type that has to be refrigerated–are fine), minced
1/2 cup (70 g) raw sunflower seeds, soaked in room temperature water for 4-6 hours (if you soak them longer, leave them in the refrigerator until needed)
3 cups (720 ml) cauliflower florets (cleaned and trimmed)–about one large cauliflower
2 stalks celery, diced
2-3 carrots, peeled and grated (use 3 if you like more carrot)
3 green onions (white and light green parts), chopped
fine sea salt, to taste
pepper, to taste
About four hours before preparation (or the night before), soak the sunflower seeds, and drain them.
In the bottom of a large bowl, make the dressing by whisking together the nutritional yeast, sage, dill, parsley, garlic powder, turmeric, tahini, both mustards, pickles, chia seeds and water. Set aside.
In the bowl of a food processor, process the sunflower seeds and cauliflower to create a fine meal-like texture (it should look sort of like small grains of rice). Turn the mixture into the bowl with the dressing. Add the celery, carrot and green onions and stir well to combine everything. Season to taste with salt and pepper. May be used immediately, but is best after being chilled. Makes 4-6 servings. Store, covered in the refrigerator, up to 3 days.
* ACD-friendly version: omit the nutritional yeast and use 1 Tbsp (15 ml) miso or 2 Tbsp (30 ml) Bragg’s liquid aminos instead. For later phases of the diet, you are allowed the occasional use of mustard; if you’re not sure you should have it, omit it and use about 2 tsp (10 ml) dried mustard instead, along with about 1 Tbsp (15 ml) fresh lemon juice.
[Whew! That title is quite a mouthful. But not nearly as full as my mouth was, stuffed with these cookies, for the past day.]
Back in our 30s, my friend Babe and I had a little routine we’d enact any time we met someone new (say, at a party, or a work event). A few minutes after the “hi, I’m Ricki” and “Hi, I’m Babe”* chit-chat began to stale, Babe would pause, crook her elbow and touch her index finger to her chin, then ask the unsuspecting targetvictimsucker stranger while nodding toward me, ”Okay, guess how long we’ve known each other!”
Usually, the person would begin with a reasonable guess, something like, “Five years?” Babe would shake her head. “Ten?” Another negative response. Eventually, the individual would give up, and Babe would announce flamboyantly, “We’ve known each other twenty five years.” The newcomer would appear suitably impressed, at which point Babe continued, ”but we’ve only been friends for six months. There was that week in grade five, a month in grade seven, three days in grade eight. . . “ She just thought that was hilarious.
In fact, the joke came about because of our habit during our tween years of getting together only once or twice a month. Invariably, we’d go see a movie (two eleven year-olds travelling on their own on city buses was a nonevent in those days). Since the only worthwhile movie theater was across town at the Cote Des Neiges plaza, we always headed there. It was there we saw Cabaret(velkomen!), The Poseidon Adventure(the first one, with Leslie Nielsen as a serious captain), The Hot Rock(remember Robert Redford sucking on Rolaids?), American Graffiti(probably Suzanne Somers’s only non-speaking role) and The Way We Were(about eight times–Barbra Streisand was then, and still is, Babe’s all-time favorite entertainer).
When we weren’t at the movie theater, we’d be watching movies at home; each in our own home, that is. A spring ritual that endured well into our twenties was watching DeMille’s The Ten Commandmentson television, with running commentary. We both thought Charlton Heston was dreamy (this was before he kind of lost his sheen by becoming the President of the N.R.A). Each on our respective sofas, in front of our respective TVs, with our respective snack foods (mine: chocolate chip cookies; hers: Bar-B-Q chips), we’d sit by the phone and basically watch the movie together.
I’d call Babe near the beginning of the film, already teary-eyed as the infant Moses was saved from certain death: ”Oh, wait, here it comes–look! She found the basket floating on the Nile!” Then twenty minutes later, Babe would respond with a call, pronouncing: ”Nefertiri still loves him–look at that agony on her face!” We loved how Moses’ good nature won over Pharaoh Seti and how the evil son, Ramses II (played by Yul Brynner) was thwarted. And even after Moses was condemned for being a Jew and flung out of Egypt, The Pharaoh felt compelled–on his deathbed–to honor his adoptive son, rasping out the words, “I must break my own vow, and speak the name of. . . . Moses.”
At that, Babe and I both uttered the line simultaneously with Seti, gasping for air and dying with a flourish before breaking into irrepressible giggles.
For years, any time we changed our minds or were faced with an error in judgement, we’d employ Seti’s Formula: let’s say I’d promised to stop blabbering about my crush on Teddy Saskin and then slipped up. I’d be forced to admit, ”I must break my own vow, and speak the name of. . . Theodore!” Or if Babe and I shared some normally prohibited junk food after school, she’d have to admit, ”I will break my own vow, and speak the name of. . . Bar-B-Q Chips!” We used that formula for years, until we tired of the movie and eventually moved on to something else (probably Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, which remained my personal favorite for the next decade or so; say, who are those guys??).
The Ten Commandments was also my major introduction to the history of Passover (yes, one would assume that the Passover haggadah, which actually relates the history of Passover and is read every year at the seder table, would have been a more fitting introduction. But neither my sisters nor I understand Hebrew, so while my dad droned on read from the booklet, our attention would always wander, and we’d find ourselves stealing dill pickle slices from the serving dishes, or dipping our fingers into the wine glasses, or giggling disrespectfully at the silly cartoon illustrations in the hagaddah, which would invariably elicit a terse and angry admonishment from our dad).
Because Passover foods do not contain leavening agents, desserts can be a bit of a bust. In recent years, flour-free chocolate tortes have taken over many of the sweet menus, but they tend to rely heavily on eggs, clearly a no-no for moi. Ditto for coconut macaroons, one of my favorite childhood Passover-friendly desserts.
Although we don’t celebrate Passover in our house, the HH and I are invited to friends’ seders this year, and I wanted to bring something appropriate that I could also enjoy. Complying with the ”no flour” commandment was easy, as I’m already eating that way quite a lot on the ACD. I thought about how I could approximate a chewy, gooey, meringue-y texture that is common in macaroons. Then I remembered the coconut macaroon recipe in my cookbook, always a big hit when it was sold in stores, and decided to alter it to be both ACD-friendly AND Passover-friendly.
While this version is definitely less sweet than the ones I remember, it is no less appealing. With the intense chocolate crunch of the cocoa nibs scattered throughout, the crisp edges and chewy interior imbued with a whiff of caramel flavor, these little gems are delicious in their own right, Passover or not. Even the HH, an avowed coconut lover, was happy to eat three of these at one sitting.
As for me, I couldn’t stop eating them. I bet they’ll make a great little snack–even as I break my own vow this year, and watch The Ten Commandments on television.
*Of course, she didn’t really say, “Hi, I’m Babe.” But this is a re-enactment, silly!
1-2 Tbsp (15-30 ml) cacao nibs or chocolate chips**
Preheat oven to 350F. Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper, or spray with nonstick spray.
In the bowl of a food processor, process the almonds, coconut flour, flax seeds and salt until the mixture attains the texture of coarse cornmeal (there should be no pieces of almond larger than sesame seeds). Add the coconut and pulse once or twice to combine.
In a small, heavy bottomed pot over low heat, melt together the coconut oil and cashew butter just until smooth. Whisk in the yacon syrup until well combined, then add the vanilla and coconut extract. Pour the mixture over the dry ingredients in the processor and sprinkle with the cacao nibs, if using. Process until the mixture comes together in a sticky “dough” and the nibs have broken up a bit.
Using a small ice cream scoop or teaspoon, scoop out about 2 tsp (10 ml) of dough per cookie and place on cookie sheet. Wet your palm (or use a silicon spatula) and flatten the cookies until they are about 3/8″ (1 cm) thick.
Bake in preheated oven 10-13 minutes, rotating the sheet about halfway through, until cookies are deep golden and beginning to brown on the edges. They should still feel soft when pressed on top with your finger (but will be hot!). Allow to cool before removing from the sheet. Makes 12 smallish cookies. May be frozen.
*for ACD Phase I, use yacon [NOTE: According to this site, agave nectar has been certified "kosher for Passover" as of 2007. Similarly, some people don't consume sesame seeds (tahini) during the holiday. Depending on your own personal preference, you may wish to use another sweetener.]
* 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 inSweet 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.
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.
How did it get to be Sunday already, and five days since my last post? Well, I haven’t been lounging around watching soap operas and eating bon-bons, that’s for sure (just watching soap operas–I’m not allowed bon-bons on the ACD, silly!). Actually, my dear friend Sterlin has been visiting from England, and I’ve been spending as much time as possible with her (including a surprise birthday party–with Sterlin as the guest of honor–yesterday evening). And though I cooked up a storm for the party, most of the dishes were tried-and-true Indian fare, many of which I’ve already shared on this blog. I fully intended to try out a few new recipes, but ran out of steam, and time, before the party.
[Dishes I contributed to the party: (clockwise, starting with the rice): broth-cooked basmati; peas in a creamy curry sauce; okra masala; cauliflower and pear curry from Celine and Joni's upcoming cookbook; lentil dal; and creamy eggplant stew in the center (also from the upcoming cookbook).]
So, instead of a new recipe today, I thought I’d address a topic that’s garnered a bit of attention on my blog over the past year or so, both from me and from readers. In fact, over the past month, I’ve received quite a few emails asking me about the ways in which I use stevia (the predominant sweetener allowed on the ACD, along with vegetable glycerin or yacon syrup, which I use only rarely).
For anyone just starting out on the ACD, anyone required to eat low-glycemic or low-carb foods (ie, diabetics, people watching their weight, and so on) or anyone interested in ditching artificial sweeteners, stevia is an all-natural, zero-calorie sweetener that you might like to try.
*Please note: I am not a scientist, a chemist, or an expert on stevia, and this post is not intended as advice for anyone contemplating using the sweetener. I’m writing about my own personal experience with stevia, and this is my own, personal, opinion.
How I Discovered Stevia
In the home of my childhood, sweets and desserts were ubiquitous. My mother was an accomplished from-scratch baker and my father, an immigrant to the country, was accustomed to a big slice of home-made cake after dinner each evening. Consequently, my sisters and I grew not only to expect freshly baked confections in our house at all times, but also to prefer sweets to any other types of foods.
As I grew older and my sweet tooth became more ferocious, I began to leap on every chance to eat something sweet without the caloric consequences. When saccharin first became available in Canada, The Nurse and I concocted a cream-cheese based cherry cheesecake sweetened entirely with Sweet N Low (my mouth still puckers at the thought). Later, I found myself buying Weight Watchers Mousse (containing aspartame) in bulk, as I’d often consume an entire batch (supposedly enough for six people) for dinner. When I lived on my own, I stocked Diet Pepsi as if I were hoarding for the next pandemic, and would often imbibe a liter or two of the stuff almost daily.
Needless to say, my sweets addiction got me into some trouble, not once, but twice. About a year ago, I found myself afflicted once again (the previous time had been 10 years prior) with a raging case of systemic candida. The only solution? A strict, relatively restrictive diet and herbal (and, in my case, prescription) anti-fungal medications.
When I was in nutrition school, there was a lot of buzz about a “new” herbal sweetener called stevia. I must admit, I was a bit wary at first (perhaps it was my Pavlovian response to any sweetener that came in little blue packets), but I’ve come to appreciate and even love the mighty sweetleaf. And this time round, it’s certainly allowed me to placate a persistent sweet tooth even while adhering to the diet that will eventually restore my overall health and digestive balance.
What is Stevia?
While the Stevia rebaudiana plant (a leafy shrub) is native to Brazil and Paraguay, it’s actually been grown here in Ontario since 1987, which may explain why Canadians are more familiar with the sweetener than Americans (it’s been designated as GRAS–generally recognized as safe–only since 2008 in the US). Still, stevia is considered an herbal supplement in Canada, so you won’t find it on supermarket shelves next to the Equal; instead, it’s available at health food stores. It’s also the most popular sweetener in Japan, where they’ve been using it to replace artificial sweeteners since 1971.
When the stevia leaves are dried and the liquids extracted, the compounds acquired (called stevioside and rebaudioside) give stevia its sweetness (at about 250-300 times sweeter than sugar). The compounds can be dried into powder or used in liquid form; either way, they are usually augmented with fillers, since the pure extract is so sweet the amounts used would be infinitesmal. Liquids usually have food-grade alcohol (such as they use with vanilla extract) or glycerin (for a non-alcohol version) added. Just a few drops of the liquid offers sweetness equal to 1-2 tsp (5-10 ml) of sugar. (The powder is premixed with dry bulking agents such as cellulose, dextrose, or maltodextrin so that one packet equals about 1 tsp/5 ml of sugar). You can also consume the fresh leaves, which are about 30-45 times sweeter than sugar. [information from here].
Are There Problems Associated with Stevia?
If you’re concerned about possible side effects or health risks, you should know that there have been some studies that indicated genetic mutations in animals who ingested large amounts of the herb. However, these studies haven’t been replicated on humans. Additionally, stevia has been used for hundreds of years in its countries of origin, as well as longterm in Japan (where it’s the number one sweetener, before sugar).
Because it’s derived from a plant and undergoes very little processing, I would much prefer to use stevia than any of the artificial, chemical-based, sweeteners such as Equal or Splenda (and I take issue with those who refer to stevia as “another artificial sweetener”; to my mind, that’s a misnomer). Like saccharin or aspartame, stevia adds zero calories to your food; it tastes very sweet; and it doesn’t affect blood sugar levels.
The difference between stevia and sucralose or sodium cyclamate, however, is that stevia exists as-is in nature, and doesn’t require laboratory procedures to be made sweet. In fact, I’m a little leery of some of the new products like PureVia or Truvia (and please note that I’ve never tried either one of them) that extract only the rebaudioside A only (it’s one of the factors that makes stevia sweet) so they can manufacture sweeteners from it. Why not continue to use the whole plant (you can steep the leaves like tea leaves) or the natural, whole extract from the whole leaves, as people have done for centuries? For my part, I’ll use only products labeled as whole “stevia,” containing that one ingredient only, rather than those with trademarked names that are not “stevia.”
I tend to prefer using stevia in foods that are naturally sweet to begin with or recipes that require very little sugar (1/4 cup or less), as well as recipes in which the texture isn’t changed (much) by the addition of sugar. For instance, my favorite use is in my morning smoothie or bowl of oatmeal. It’s also great as a sweetener in salad dressings, puddings, pancakes and pie fillings, since they don’t rely as much on sugar to produce a particular texture.
The greatest challenge with stevia, I think, is using it in baking, because its intense sweetness (up to 300 times sweeter than sugar) permits only a minute amount to be added to batters or dough. When you substitute 10 drops (or 1/4 teaspoon powder) for 1 cup of sugar, you alter the dry-to-wet ratio in your baked good, as well as the chemical reaction that takes place with baking. As a result, I’ve had to experiment quite a bit with my stevia-sweetened baked goods. Keep that in mind if you try stevia as a sugar replacement. (There are also one-for-one stevia-based sweeteners on the market that allow you to measure one cup of the mixture for one cup of sugar, but these always contain bulking agents. While they produce a good product, my digestive system hasn’t taken kindly to the added ingredients, so I avoid them.).
If you do use stevia in baked goods, remember that you’ll need to compensate for the loss of sugar as a binding agent (due to caramelization when it’s baked). Instead, try using nut or seed butters, or fruit purées in place of some of the sugar, as I do in this recipe. You can find other stevia-based desserts like cookies, puddings and cupcakes with frosting (plus some savory dishes as well) in my ebook, Anti-Candida Feast.
My Favorite Brands of Stevia
Until this year, the only brand of stevia I used was NOW Foods’ brand, as it was the one most readily available here. I prefer the liquid (some people have noted a slight bitterness or aftertaste with the powder; I’ve never found this to be the case with the liquid).
Recently, however, I’ve had the opporunity to try out a few other brands, as well, such as Stevia in the Raw (powder, extract of whole stevia), which I won in a blog giveaway; NuNaturals (vanilla and unflavored liquid) and Stevita chocolate flavor (both of which I received as samples for review on this blog).
Granted, this isn’t a representative sample of all the brands out there, and I’m always scouring the local health food store for other brands. While I loved the NuNaturals and Stevita brands, I did notice that they require a bit more volume than the NOW brand to achieve the same sweetening power (so if I need only 5 drops of NOW stevia to sweeten my bowl of oatmeal, I need up to 10 of the others for the same degree of sweetness). I haven’t detected any bitter aftertaste in any of these brands, though, so perhaps I’m just one of those lucky people with a genetic quirk of the tastebuds that doesn’t register that particular type of bitterness (then again, I also adore brussels sprouts).
Is there anything else you’d like to know about the ACD, my diet, recipes on the blog or any of the ingredients I use? I plan to post more informational blog entries like this one on occasion, in which I answer readers’ questions or address comments related to the diet. So let me know what you’d like me to cover!
“Mum, I know there have been some tests on animals, but dogs can enjoy stevia too, can’t they? Because, you know, we don’t want to give up taste-testing those Carob-Coconut Sweeties you make.”
When I first thought about the holidays this year, I resigned myself to the usual ACD fare: hummus, salads, lots of greens and maybe some veggie patties. But then I thought, why shouldn’t I have a great holiday dinner, too? I set to work coming up with a delicious menu that both the HH and I could enjoy together–complete with a yummy dessert.
If you’re on an anti-candida (or any sugar-free, gluten free) diet, the holidays don’t have to be dire! Anti-Candida Feast will provide everything from appetizer to dessert for your holiday meal. I’ve created a dozen brand new recipes and paired them with a few more favorites from this blog.
All recipes are gluten free, stevia-sweetened and suitable for anyone on an anti-candida diet, or any diet that features whole, natural foods and is free of gluten, eggs, dairy, and sweeteners (except stevia) or anything artificial. (Some recipes are suitable for phase 2 of the ACD, containing unsweetened chocolate, coconut milk or gluten free flours).
To order your own copy of Anti-Candida Feast for just $5.00 US, use the “Buy Now” button in the left sidebar, or click here for the Ebook page (PayPal button is after the book description).
And don’t forget that you can win many of the ingredients to make the desserts in the ebook by entering the healthy baking kit giveaway–running until tomorrow! Just click here to enter.
