[Warning: Extra, extra, extra-long post. Feel free to portion it out in smaller doses. . . or simply take your time and revel in the sunshine.]
[Nope, no alligators in this Florida body of water. (And no, that's not the HH at the pool!)]
Um, so, yes, I have been rather MIA the past week or so (I’m referring, of course, to the established acronym for “missing in action,” and not the edgy, avante-garde, new-mama songstress of the same initials). Well, a few days before Valentine’s Day, I simply couldn’t stand this cursed frosty landscape a moment longer; and, since I am on holidays from the college at the moment, I entreated the HH to join me for a spontaneous (albeit short) junket to the same place we sojourned last February: Sunny Florida!
Unlike last year’s pitfall-filled trip, however, this year everything ran smoothly. I made sure to leave my threatening keychain at home and packed my suspcious toothpaste in my checked baggage, so we breezed through the security checkpoints; our plane took off and landed on time, with a turbulence-free flight in between; our hotel was lovely; and we got to spend a great deal of time with my cousins Marketing Guru and CBC in Sarasota (the former lives there and the latter was visitng). Even the weather cooperated after an initial protestation and presented us with sunny, temperate days (in the low 70s F, or 22-24 C).
While I won’t bore you with every little activity and event as I did last year, I thought I could encapsulate the trip in a few key photos and captions. So here goes:
Who knew that the Tropicana factory was in Tampa? As we reclined in our Airport Taxi being transported from Tampa to our hotel in Sarasota, our driver, Roderick, provided an ongoing (and constant) narrative about the scenery and locale. In addition to the Tropicana trivia, we also learned that most homes in the area have automated sprinkler systems to water their yards at night, when it’s cheaper; that Walgreen’s and CVS are the two most popular drugstores in Florida; that driving from New York City to Miami takes about 24 hours if you drive nonstop with two drivers (one sleeping as the other drives); and that one of the biggest Pythons ever found in the Florida Everglades had eyes bigger than its belly when it tried to eat a fully grown alligator; when the alligator got stuck, it exploded and they both died. Oh, and that Roderick broke up with his girlfriend the second he found out she owned a pet snake–just walked out of the apartment and never looked back.
[Would this breakfast sustain your for more than 12 hours? Me, neither.]
Because our plane was taking off at 10:00 AM, we had to be at the airport by 8:00, which meant leaving our house at 7:30. Since The Girls had to be dropped off at doggie daycare by 7:00 AM (“Mum, we like it there and all, but we really didn’t appreciate having to stay for three full days. . . they just don’t dole out the treats the way you do“), we were looking at a wakeup time of 5:30 AM. It seemed early, but not impossible. When the hour arrived, however, I was so rushed I had no time for breakfast and blindly grabbed the last (plain, unfrosted) whoopie pie I’d made the week before as sustenance on the way to the airport. All I can say is, “Foolish, foolish girl.” Of course, it hadn’t occurred to me that there would be absolutely NOTHING I could eat at the airport; I assumed I’d be able to buy an apple, or some nuts, or something.
For some reason, though, the airport restaurant offered only pre-cut fruit plates that featured mostly melons (not allowed on the ACD); I just couldn’t justify paying $7.95 for two pieces of pineapple when I’d be throwing away the rest of the fruit. And there were no plain bags of nuts in sight (only sugar-coated–another no-no). Ah, well, no worries; I knew we’d be landing by 1:20, so I reasoned I’d buy something once we arrived at the hotel, around 3:00 PM.
As it turned out, by the time we met up with Roderick, drove to the hotel, checked in, picked up a rental car and got back to the hotel, it was after 5:00 PM.
Which meant I hadn’t eaten for almost 12 hours.
Before we called my cousins, before we unpacked our bags, before we looked through the tourist pamplets, before we marvelled at the fact we no longer needed our coats, before we even used the washroom–yes, before anything else–we drove to Whole Foods so that I could stave off starvation (okay, I’m being overly dramatic; really, it was so that I could stave off fainting from hunger and crumpling in a heap in the middle of the hotel lobby). Once there, I bought a trayful of prepared dishes (curry quinoa salad, raw kale salad, garlic tofu and baked beets), a celery-apple-beet-ginger juice and a wheatgrass shot, and downed them all before I even remembered to snap a photo. Then (and only then), we proceeded to the hotel dining room, where the HH had his dinner and I sipped, quite calmly, on green tea.
Note to self: no matter how late you need to stay up the night before a trip, be sure to pack a bag of food that you can eat to take with you.
III. My Relatives Make Great Tour Guides.
[St. Armand's Circle, looking very un-circular.]
Despite a short (3-day) trip, my relatives made sure the HH and I saw a lot of the surrounding sites. On our first afternoon, we were taken to St. Armand’s Circle, an upscale shopping area where “epicurean delights tantalize your taste buds.” We stopped for a relaxing lunch at Venezia, where we ate pizza (everyone else) and salad (me). We later embarked on a walking tour of the Sarasota downtown district, where we learned that the library looks like an opera house, there are sculptures dotting the urban landscape, strangers will let you pat their dogs if you’re in canine withdrawal, the actual opera house itself is fairly nondescript, squirrels in Florida are angular and skinny unlike our fat, round ones here (they don’t need to fatten up for the winter–there is no winter!!) and, according to my cousin, Sarasota is the cultural hub of the entire state.
Our last full day started out at a local deli where my cousins shared a huge pastrami plate, the HH munched on a Reuben, and I scooped up hummus with carrot sticks. My cousin had actually chosen the place because they promised a “gluten free menu” which turned out to be a typed list of things on the menu that were NOT gluten free as a warning to those celiacs among us. (Bizarrely, the list included “Rice” under the “Do Not Eat” category; when I questioned the hostess about this, she noted that it referred to “wild rice.” “But wild rice is also gluten-free,” I countered. At that point, she wrinkled her nose, pretended she didn’t hear me, and began to search for our table.)
[Not a bad place to spend an afternoon.]
After lunch, my cousins drove us around the Siesta Key area as the HH and I gawked at the stunning homes on the water and then strolled along Siesta Key Beach, one of the most appealing beaches I’ve ever seen, with sand as fine and white as talcum. We strolled under the soothing sun beside the gurgling tide and relaxed into our holiday.
IV. Sarasota is a Cultural Hub; but Sadly, Not a Culinary Hub.
[Our hotel breakfast table: three kinds of artificial sweetener and only one kind of real sugar. HH, I think we're not in Toronto any more. . . ]
After my success finding so many fabulous ACD options last year in Miami, I assumed I’d have just as easy a time this year. Well, you know what they say about those of us who assume. Perhaps it was because I was in the company of omnivores who love their meat; perhaps the HH and I simply didn’t find the “right” restaurants there (and many thanks to those of you who proffered suggestions–which I wasn’t able to frequent). After the first night’s Whole Foods escapade, I made do with the few options available wherever we happened to be. In our hotel, where breakfast was included each day, I was able to pick out roasted potatoes (one day, they were sweet potatoes), fresh pineapple, and green tea. It wasn’t until the last morning there that it occurred to me to tote along my own accoutrements to add to the pot of cooked oatmeal, thereby re-creating a familiar favorite, like so:
[Behold the only food photo I snapped during the entire holiday: cooked oatmeal with almond butter (thanks, Justin's individual packets) and my own, always-with-me, stevia (thanks, NuNaturals).]
In fact, the best “restaurant” meal of the trip turned out to be the takeout Chinese my cousin brought home for Valentine’s Day, after all the restaurants he tried were booked. The four of us shared food out of cardboard boxes (well, we spooned it onto plates first) and gabbed for a few hours. Perhaps not the most romantic V-Day, but one spent with three people I love. And we were in Florida, away from the snow, ice, cold, wind, frost, snow, slush, grey skies, and snow.
Well, that was enough to warm my heart.
V. There’s No Place Like (the food at) Home.
[The Girls getting back into their post-Florida groove. ("We missed your treats--I mean, we missed YOU, Dad!)]
While we had a fantastic time with relatives and sunshine galore, one thing I learned from this trip is that Florida squirrels are skinnyyou should always wear sunscreenPythons’ eyes are bigger than their stomachs we are really blessed with fabulous food options in Toronto.
And so, in honor of a dish that I often order at a favorite restaurant here in town, and one that we make at home all the time, I present you with today’s recipe for Pasta Arrabiata. It has nothing to do with Florida, per se, but I sorely missed being able to order something that is both delicious and which I could safely eat at a restaurant while away during the past week.
The pasta recipe also introduces a new feature here on DDD: Kitchen Classics! So often, we in the food blog world spend most of our time seeking out novel or unusual recipes, those we consider “blog worthy” or those that will stand out from the throngs of dishes being highlighted on other food blogs. We sometimes overlook those recipes we make all the time–the “favorites” or “go-to” recipes we turn to when we want something comforting, or consistent, or reliable.
I consider as “classic” any recipe for a dish that’s common across most of the continent, for which most people have one “favorite” recipe in their repertoire. Everyone has their own favorite Chocolate Chip Cookie, right? Or how about a favorite Guacamole? Or Chili? Those are the classics!
This Arrabiata has been in the DDD lineup for quite some time–I seem to recall cooking it for the HH on one of our starry-eyed early dates–and we tend to have it at least once or twice per month. You can cook up the sauce in a jiffy while the pasta boils, and have dinner on the table in under 30 minutes. The result is a lively tomato sauce that won’t weigh you down, yet is thick enough to cling well to your pasta. The addition of red bell pepper provides a subtext of sweetness that’s a perfect counterpoint to the spicy chili pepper. It couldn’t be easier–and it always delivers a tasty, satisfying and quick dinner. And there’s no need to fly in an airplane to get it.
Ah, it’s good to be home. . . .
Classic Pasta Arrabiata (adapted from Moosewood New Classics): ACD Stage 1 and beyond
No matter how often I eat this, I am always happy to have another dish of Pasta Arrabiata for dinner. The sauce is a perfect blend of tomato, onion, pepper and spice, with an ascerbic undertone from the tomato and a hint of sweetness from the pepper. It also works well with additions such as broccoli, mushrooms (if you can eat them), or faux meat.
2 medium onions, chopped
4 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1 Tbsp (15 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
1 tsp (5 ml) dried red pepper flakes
2 small or 1 large sweet red bell pepper, chopped
1 large can (28 ounces or 450-500 ml) diced tomatoes, with juice
1 large can (28 ounces or 450-500 ml) crushed (puréed) tomatoes
fine sea salt and pepper, to taste
3 Tbsp (45 ml) chopped fresh basil
enough cooked pasta of your choice for 4-6 servings (I used rice rotini)
In a large pot or dutch oven, heat the oil over medium heat; add the onions and garlic and sauté until the onion is browned and slightly caramelized, about 10 minutes. Add the pepper flakes and red pepper and continue to cook for another 2 minutes, until the pepper softens. Add the tomatoes and heat until the sauce begins to simmer; lower heat and cook, uncovered, until thickened, about 15 minutes, stirring frequently. Season with salt and pepper and stir in the basil; cook until heated through, another 5 minutes or so. Serve over pasta. Makes 4-6 servings. May be frozen.
Remember that first blush of new love, those early days when you were still keen to learn every little thing about your sweetheart? A casual glance around the back yard revealed the emerald hue of the grass, the red of the tomato plants, the coral of the peonies all mysteriously so much sharper and more intense, as if your world had suddenly graduated to HD. The woman at the A & P checkout was actually friendly for once, even smiling when she returned your change. Even your office cubicle, previously no more than a cramped, beige, barren receptacle, seemed to brighten a little, become a source of personal pride and production.
Ah, the unblemished enthusiasm of a new relationship, when you were still willing to do almost anything to please your partner. You want to go see the movie 10,000 BC? Sure, I’d love to, I’ve always been a huge fan of big game hunting! There’s an exhibit at the Science Center on “The Demographics of Star Trek: From Vulcan to Romulin and Beyond”? Well, count me in, I’m just fascinated by the mating habits of those pointy-eared dudes! Can we spend the weekend at my buddy Alfie’s helping him rebuild his 1972 Corvette engine? You betcha! Grease and metal–two of my favorite things!
In those early days, you would never dream of facing your beloved without having showered, shaved, or styled your hair. Mascara was meticulously applied; earrings carefully chosen to complement the pattern of your (new) skirt. And forays to Victoria’s Secret became a regular occurrence, so you could invest in frilly unmentionables you likely would never have glanced at otherwise (though I’m sorry, I could just never get behind the thong craze. Or get it behind me, either, for that matter).
Eventually, of course, you both relax and become accustomed to being together. Really, why bother with contacts the minute you leap out of bed, if you’re just reading the paper in your flannel robe at the kitchen table sipping coffee? And this old Counting Crows T-shirt is so much more comfy than those slippery, frilly babydolls, isn’t it? And let’s face it, cotton briefs just feel better under jeans. It’s the weekend–does it really matter if you walk the dogs in sweats and runners, or if you postpone that shower until after you’ve finished your gardening? You’re just going to sweat again, anyway.
Well, during those first starry-eyed few months of our relationship, before we both abandoned the faςade for good, the HH was still making an attempt to impress me. Um, let me rephrase that; it was probably more like during the first month or so that the HH was occasionally trying to impress me. Okay, maybe not a whole month. All right, fine; it was only once. But that one time was very impressive.
You see, the HH’s notion of “impressing me,” like his notion of everything else, was atypical. He isn’t one for flowers (which he has bought for me a total of two times in our 13 years together); or for giving me chocolates (twice); or jewelry (once). No, the HH’s concept of “how to impress a gal” was to cook for me. And, also characteristic of the HH, he went all out, planning a four-course dinner for me–and six guests.
I won’t get into the details, but suffice it to say that the “only” place he could buy his meat (this was during my physician-ordered “return to meat” phase, during my first candida cleanse; I’m smarter now) was the most expensive market in the city, and since he didn’t own any kitchen utensils or equipment, he bought them there, too, and since the recipe required a very expensive, French, red wine, he picked that up as well, and. . . 11 hours and a full week’s paycheck later, eight of us enjoyed a massive feast and hugely successful party that carried on until the single-digit hours of the morning.
The HH has never cooked since.
For my part, I felt I had to reciprocate. Throwing dinner parties in those heady days of my “social thirties” was no hardship, but I knew the dessert had to be spectacular. I happily put together a menu and spent the weekend cooking. And while I have no recollection of the main course that evening, I do recall that this salad kicked off the festivities, and became a repeated feature at parties all that summer. (Of course I remember the dessert as well: a towering concoction that was part meringue and part genoise, its strata stuck together with alternating layers of mocha buttercream and chocolate ganache, topped with handmade chocolate lace decorations and gold dragees. It made an incredibly impressive end to the meal–and breakfast the next morning).
In addition to being aesthetically appealing with its variety of shapes and colors, the salad offers a light yet satisfying first course or side dish. As we all know, it’s the dressing that “makes” a salad, and this one is magical. The jalapeno subtext underscores the fragrant, slightly sweet tarragon, all in tandem with the vibrant colors and textures of the veggies. You could probably sub almost any vegetables of your choice (I bet green beans and beets would go nicely), so feel free to change them up as you like.
About a week ago, I stumbled across the recipe on a wayward magazine page as I was leafing through my recipe folders. After a Proustian moment of salivating reverie, I decided to recreate the salad for dinner that night, grill or no grill.
As we sat across from each other at our unadorned kitchen table (the morning’s paper still piled off to the side), munching on the mélange of grilled veggies, herbs and seeds, the HH and I were momentarily transported back to that early summer of dinner parties and getting to know each other.
“I remember this one,” the HH remarked, a dreamy smile on his face. ”This salad is terrific.” I may have even detected the hint of a long-lost gleam in his eye.
He may have been sporting a three-day stubble and ragged college-era T-shirt; I may have been still wearing my workout gear and glasses (I don’t even own contacts any more); the salad may have been more work than we’re used to these days, but it was worth it.
“Yes,” I replied, smiling at my sweetheart. “I”d say it’s very impressive.”
A great dish to make for a BBQ or buffet table. With its rainbow mix of colors and fragrant fresh herb dressing, this salad has something to please everyone.
Salad:
1 each yellow and green zucchini
1 each sweet green and red pepper, cored
1 large carrot, peeled
1 large eggplant
1/3 cup (80 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 jalapeno pepper, seeded and minced
1/4 tsp (1 ml) each salt and pepper
1/4 cup (60 ml) sunflower seeds, lightly toasted
Dressing:
1 Tbsp (15 ml) chopped fresh tarragon leaves
1 Tbsp (15 ml) fresh lemon juice
1 Tbsp (15 ml) balsamic vinegar (for ACD: use apple cider vinegar)
5-8 drops plain liquid stevia, to taste
2 green onions, chopped
1 small clove garlic, minced
pinch each, fine sea salt and pepper
1/4 cup (60 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
Cut both zucchini, both peppers, carrot and eggplant lengthwise into 1/2 inch (1 cm) thick slices. In a large bowl, whisk together the oil, garlic, jalapeno, salt and pepper; add vegetables and toss to coat.
Place vegetables, in batches, on greased grill over medium heat; close lid and cook, turning occasionally, for about 10 minutes or just until tender-crisp. Let cool on cutting board and then cut into 2 x 1/2 inch (5 x 1 cm) sticks. Set aside.
Prepare dresssing: In a large bowl, combine tarragon, lemon juice, vinegar, stevia, green onion, garlic, salt and pepper; gradually whisk in oil. Add vegetables and stir to coat. Serve sprinkled with sunflower seeds. Makes 6 servings. Will keep, covered, in refrigerator up to 2 days.
[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 first entry on apples.]
Honestly, where does the time go? Here we are on November 5th–but wasn’t yesterday Halloween? Now that I finally seem to be clawing my way out of my flu funk, the days are whizzing by (if only they’d whiz directly to mid-April–do not collect $200, do not pass snow–that would be great. I, for one, could do without winter.)
Well, whether we want to or not, at this point most of us are thinking ahead to the holidays. With that in mind, I’ve got two great suggestions before I turn to today’s Lucky Comestible.
If you’re looking for some delicious holiday-themed dishes, take a look at Nava Atlas’s A Bountiful Vegan Thanksgiving ebook. At 78 pages, it contains a slew of recipes, from appetizers and soups to salads, side dishes, entrées, stuffings, sauces, and desserts. While most of the recipes are Nava’s own, she also includes dishes from ”guest” chefs like Beverly Lynn Bennett, Fran Costigan, Dreena Burton, Isa Chandra Moskowitz, Robin Robertson and Susan Voisin, among others (and two recipes by yours truly!). I was thrilled to receive my copy and even though we’ve already celebrated Thanksgiving here in Canada, I still saw lots of recipes I can serve up at Christmas time and through the new year. Best of all, profits from the book are all going to some of Nava’s favorite charities. Click here for more info or to buy.
And don’t forget that Sweet Freedomis on sale until the beginning of December! With over 100 recipes for all your favorite sweet treats made healthy (plus a few unexpected goodies!), you can have your cake this holiday season, and great health, too. The book would also make a wonderful gift, and can be signed for the recipient. Just click on the book cover at left or the Cookbook link at the top of the page for more info or to purchase.
And while I was thinking about the holidays, I decided on the focus of this sixth Lucky Comestible series. Although I love pumpkin and have a few recipes that include it on this blog, there’s never a shortage of pumpkin-based recipes at this time of year. I got to thinking about other autumn produce and how I could incorporate it into my holiday menus. And since I’ve recently seen the return of limited fruits to my culinary repertoire, I immediately decided to highlight one of these not-so-sweet beauties in my next Lucky Comestible series. And then it hit me–why not apples?
I mean, apples are, in a way, the original fruit (though technically those naked lovers did gorge on pretty much every other fruit before they bit into that MacIntosh). And it’s true what they say–your daily Granny Smith could very well be a means to protecting your health. Apples are also visually appealing, tasty, portable snacks; and, I daresay, they are probably the single fruit consumed by the largest number of people. They’re sort of like the Miss Congeniality of fruits. In fact, they’re actually the Sally Field of fruits–we like them! We really, really like them. How many people don’t enjoy apples?
Far from being a mundane pleasure, then, apples are a healthy indulgence that come in a variety of shapes, sizes, and appellations. Of course, we’re all familiar with cute little Granny Smith, with her tough exterior and tart insides, or the sweet and delicate Delicious varieties. But how about the Scarlet O’Haralson or Summer Rambo? Apples take on Hollywood! If you’re curious about all the names bestowed upon this common fruit, check here.
Apples are also associated with myriad historical facts and trivia. For an amazingly comprehensive list of all things apple, check out this incredible post by Johanna of Green Gourmet Giraffe (Thanks, Johanna!).
Of course, we all know how versatile the forbidden fruit is in terms of flavor combinations; besides the seminal apples and cinnamon, apples can chum around with savory curries, sweet spice mixtures, your choice of alcoholic beverages, caramel, and even chocolate. It’s also a flexible ingredient that contributes equally well to any course of a meal. So I thought it would be fun to run the gamut of courses, featuring an apple-based dish spanning appetizer to soup to main course and dessert.
Ready for your appetizers? Let’s begin with this astonishing roasted red pepper and apple dip. Wouldn’t this look beautiful on a holiday buffet table?
This recipe hails from Nicole Routhier’s Fruit Cookbook, a massive tome that’s been wedged in my cookbook book case between Meena Pathak’s Indian Cooking for Family and Friends and the Moosewood Low Fat Favorites for almost a year without stirring (pun intended. Oh, and that reminds me, I really need to organize my cookbooks already). A book based on fruit recipes seemed perfect for my apple quest, so I pulled it from the shelf and began to browse. The original dip was intended for grilled shrimp, but we had it over grilled tofu with favorable results. It would also go exceptionally well spread on crackers, or as a base in either a grilled eggplant or avocado sandwich (or both together).
The alluring triad of smoky peppers, tangy Granny Smith, and fiery chili flakes was enough to win my heart (and my taste buds)–after enjoying this spooned over tofu, I took to spooning it straight from the container and into my salivating maw. One part chutney, one part part salsa, and one part jam, this is a perfect spread for almost any food. With a cheery orange blush (perfect for the season!) and slightly grainy texture, the dip looks beautiful mounded in a serving bowl and struck me as a fitting centerpiece for a platter of simple sweet potato “fries.” Let the holiday menus begin!
(And stay tuned for a very festive giveaway coming up next post!)
A versatile dip that works well with roasted vegetables, tofu, or burgers. This would also be great tossed with pasta or spread in a sandwich.
4 medium red peppers, roasted (you can roast them yourself or just use prepared ones), chopped
1/2 cup (120 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
4 tsp (20 ml) minced garlic
2 tsp (10 ml) dried red pepper flakes (or less, to taste)
1/2 cup (85 g) natural almonds, lightly toasted
1/4 cup (60 ml) red wine vinegar (for ACD variation, use lemon juice)
1 tsp (5 ml) sugar, or 3-5 drops stevia liquid
1/2 Granny Smith apple, peeled, cored and chopped
salt and pepper, to taste
Heat 2 Tbsp (10 ml) of the olive oil in a skillet over medium heat and add the garlic and red pepper flakes. Sauté until fragrant and lightly golden, about one minute. Remove from heat.
Place the chopped peppers in a food processor or blender (I used a food processor). Add the sautéed garlic mixture, the remaining 6 Tbsp (90 ml) olive oil, toasted almonds, vinegar (or lemon juice) and sugar (or stevia) and process to a purée. Add the chopped apple and process again until blended. (If your blender isn’t large enough to hold allt he ingredients at once, process in two batches and then stir them together in a bowl).
Transfer the dip to a bowl and season to taste with salt and pepper. Cover and refrigerate until well chilled. Makes about 2 cup (480 ml). Will keep, covered, in refrigerator up to 3 days.
[Thanks to everyone who left such sweet comments and encouragement for the hellish week of marking! (And I know I still owe some of you emails. . . coming soon!) Some of you who are students noted that you'd be doing as much work on the other side of the red pen. Whether students, parents, teachers or the lucky few whose only connection to academia is reading about it in the newspapers--hope you all survived the past crunch week or so of midterms, study week, or finals. Now get ready, 'cause there's a lengthy return post ahead--on to the food!]
[Base of rice and buckwheat; sautéed rapini and chard with onions and garlic; tahini-miso sauce; sprinkled with hemp seeds.]
I’m sure we’ve all met her (or perhaps we are her?): that woman who’s incredibly competent at dispensing affection, comfort, nurturing or support–yet seems to ignore her own emotional needs and physical well-being.
Well, I admit it, I’m as guilty as the next gal. Ten days away from the DDD home base had me reflecting often on this whole notion of self-love. Actually, that was only one among a plethora of topics on which I mused during the hiatus, which included (but was not limited to) the following:
how much I miss blogging when I’m away. I was struck by a true sense of void during this time, and it astounded me. Honestly, who are “they” who post studies about the Internet and prophecies of doom regarding how it diminishes social skills or limits interactions with other people? Seriously. In some cases, I’m in contact with blog buddies more often than my “in-person” friends (some of whom live only five minutes away). Don’t let anyone tell you that the society of bloggers isn’t a bona fide community of lively, vibrant, and very much interactive people–all of you!
how to create a tasty, grain-free breakfast pancake. I wanted something that didn’t require refined, or even whole-grain, flour–and I found it! (more on that anon).
how this &%$!!?* winter refuses to retreat, even though it’s March already and why are you still hanging around, Mr. Jack Frost, can’t you tell you’re not welcome anymore and nobody wants you here, so just go away and don’t come back, ya big bully!
how, with the economy as bad as it is, I’m hoping the HH and I might still save for our dream home (okay, I’d be willing to cut some of the frills and just be happy with a daydream home). And while we’re both incredibly lucky to still be gainfully employed, on the topic of saving money and stretching a dollar, I’ve been mightily inspired by the frugal and fantastic Melody over at MeloMeals.
why, once again, I have been willing to risk my health, well-being and future for the evil (and truly, ephemeral) charms of that sepia seductress, chocolate.
[Oat groats and amaranth base; grilled eggplant and grilled marinated tofu; broccoli, avocado and green onion; orange-fig sauce.]
Yes, folks, it’s time to focus on the “diet” portion of this blog yet again.
When I first began to ponder how I’d spend my break from the college, I considered traveling to a new locale, attending a retreat, picking up old hobbies like sewing or knitting–but it never occurred to me I’d get sick instead. Then, at my annual checkup last week, I discovered that my old candida afflction has reared its yeasty head yet again, and this time, with a potency that could rival the combined superpowers of the X-Men.
I’ve decided that in order to rid myself of this recurring problem once and for all, I’ll need to return to the anti-candida diet (ACD). I’ll be facing a highly restrictive diet and a few detoxes or cleanses along the way (no wonder I’ve been avoiding it). But I’ve had it with the persistent cycle of diet, dessert and destruction (you thought I was going to say “dogs,” didn’t you? heh heh!). To paraphrase that seminal queen of weight loss, Susan Powter, “the insanity must stop!” (And what the heck ever happened to her, anyway?).
I’m going on an anti-candida diet so I can be healthy. So I can move more easily, and feel comfortable in my own body. So I can express a little more self-love and self-care through my diet and lifestyle. (Anyone familiar with Sally’s fabulous blog already knows what I mean by this: treating my body, mind and spirit with the kindness, reverence, and care it deserves.) So I can enjoy a social life without being fixated on food. Oh, and so I can lose 40 pounds by my highschool reunion this May. **
My last “true” candida cleanse occurred nine years ago, and in the interim, my eating habits have slowly reverted to those that got me in trouble in the first place (chocolate too often; sweets too often; wine too often). After reading the diet on this site (which is slightly less ascetic than the regimen I followed before), I think it’s doable (the only recommendation with which I disagree is to use aspartame or aseulfame, so I’ll just omit those).
To those of you who’ve been reading for a while, I understand if you’re skeptical, and I apologize. After all, I’ve tried more than a few times to cut chocolate and sugar from my life. Well, I’ve learned it’s never a great idea to publicly declare such a complete lifestyle overhaul on the blog, because later on, if you don’t meet your lofty goal, your initial vow is indelibly there for all the internet to see. With that in mind, I’ll restrict my candida commentary to the Progress Tracker page (may as well give it a new use, as I long ago stopped recording my weight over there).
And since I’ve already done a bit of baking over the past couple of weeks, I can intersperse the spartan dishes with more interesting fare. If I play my screens right, you folks will barely notice a difference.
[Rice and brown lentil base; spinach leaves and steamed sweet potato wedges with chopped green onions; topped with almond-curry sauce.]
The first step is to prepare the system with a week or two of clean, whole-foods eating that doesn’t worry about yeast or fermentation (yeast and fermented foods will be cleared out next). Rice or noodle bowls are a great place to start.
[Barley and amaranth base; grilled red pepper strips and onions; steamed broccoli; sprinkling of cashews and sunflower seeds; topped with tahini-miso sauce.]
Meals-in-a-bowl like these have become very popular at health-food restaurants and stores around North America. There’s a local haunt that serves an amazing bowl called, appropriately, “The Mish-Mash Bowl.” Every meal contains either brown rice or quinoa, topped with your choice of four toppings from three categories (protein, veggies, or good fats), then drizzled with your choice of one or two dressings.
My own variation on the Mish Mash is a quartet of at least one healthy grain plus a protein, healthy fat, and complex carbohydrate (ie, veggies). I was amazed at how satisfying–and how filling–a clean, healthy bowl can be. The marriage of fresh, colorful veggies with chewy grains and the crunch of nuts or seeds is entirely enchanting (almost as enchanting as that vixen, chocolate–though in a different way, of course).
In putting these together, what I discovered rather quickly is that “the sauce makes the bowl.” A grain bowl sans effective topping is sort of like a perfect outfit without the right shoes or accessories–it may be good quality, it may be tailored , it may even sport a designer label, but without the proper accoutrements, it’s just a length of beige, beige, beige.
With a winning sauce, however, these bowls are stellar; they’re delectable; they evoke impatient yearning; they’re Zagat-worthy. And, much like those lines of toddlers’ clothing that allow the kids to dress themselves by choosing one top and one pre-coordinated bottom, they’re fun to mix and match, just to see what comes up.
The combinations here are simply starting points to get you going; play around with different grains, legumes, nuts, seeds, veggies, and sauces. Use these sauces with any combination you please, or go with my mixes–either way, you’ll be treating yourself with love.
**I asked this question entirely tongue in cheek–so please, no need to send me emails detailing how unhealthy a 40-pound weight loss in 8 weeks would be! I have no intention of actually losing that much. Besides, at the rate I’ve been going this past year, a FOUR pound loss by May would be nothing short of miraculous.
Tahini-Miso Sauce
Light and tangy, this sauce would also be perfect with raw veggies or in a sandwich.
2 tsp (10 ml) freshly grated ginger root
1 Tbsp (15 ml) tamari or soy sauce
2 tsp (10 ml) pure maple syrup
2 Tbsp (30 ml) fresh lemon juice
2 Tbsp (30 ml) tahini (sesame paste)
1 Tbsp 915 ml) light miso
2 Tbsp (30 ml) water
Combine all ingredients in a blender and whir until smooth. Makes enough for 3-4 bowls.
Almond and Curry Sauce
Slightly sweet, slightly spicy, this substantial sauce goes well with cooked root vegetables and adds a protein punch to your bowl. I used a food processor for this batch, which was chunky; I think I’d use a blender next time (or even use almond butter instead of fresh almonds).
6-10 dried dates, roughly chopped, to taste
1/4 cup plus 2 Tbsp (90 ml) boiling water
1/4 cup plus 2 Tbsp (90 ml) natural almonds, with skin
1 tsp (5 ml) freshly grated ginger root
1/2 tsp (5 ml) mild curry powder
1 Tbsp (15 ml) tamari or soy sauce
1 small clove garlic, minced
pinch chili flakes
Place dates in a blender and cover with boiling water. Allow to sit for 5 minutes. Add remaining ingredients and blend until you have a smooth sauce. Makes enough for 3-4 bowls.
Orange Fig Sauce
Delicious over bowls when a higher protein content is provided by the ingredients in the bowl. This also works beautifully on a tofu omelet.
1/2 cup (120 ml) freshly squeezed orange juice
one 2″ (5 cm) piece of ginger, peeled and minced
1 tsp (5 ml) light miso
2 tsp (10 ml) tamari or soy sauce
1 tsp (5 ml) agave nectar
2 large dried figs, stems removed, chopped
Whir all ingredients in a blender until perfectly smooth. Drizzle over your bowl as desired. Makes enough for 3-4 bowls.
Even though I am well aware of this principle, I’ve never been the kind of gal who naturally embraces “simple”: no scoop of vanilla ice cream for me when double-fudge-cookie-cream-caramel-swirl exists in the world; no blue wooly socks if I can wear my favorite pair emblazoned with frolicking brown and green puppies; no simple sentence when a complex, adjective-crammed, three-clause phrasing can be used instead.
In terms of this particular trait, the HH and I are polar opposites. Unlike me, he invariably takes the path of least complication. In fact, he’s frequently reminding me that, in his opinon, I tend to overcomplicate matters.
Scene One: I’m worried about Elsie. Just look at her! She’s terribly lethargic, sleeping on her pillow all afternoon. She didn’t even come into the kitchen when I started baking. Could she be sick? Maybe we should take her to the vet. Maybe she’s got Distemper! Or Lyme Disease! We have to go to the after-hours emergency clinic! RIGHT NOW!!
HH: “Sweetheart, please don’t overcomplicate this. Elsie’s just tired, that’s all. I took them for an hour-long walk along the trail this afternoon. She swam and she ran for an hour. See? Chaser’s exactly the same way.”
Me: “Oh. Yeah.”
Scene Two: I’m sure my sister is mad at me. I mean, she got off the phone so abruptly, and she didn’t even ask about The Girls. She definitely sounded upset. Hmmn. What on earth did I do to offend her this time? Hooboy. Now I’m going to have to apologize for some slight I can’t even remember committing. . .
HH: “Honey, you don’t need to overcomplicate this. She probably had a bad day at work and just doesn’t feel like talking about it. Didn’t she have some big meeting coming up. . .?”
Me: “Oh. Yeah. Now I remember. . . she had to fire someone today and felt terrible doing it. Oh, gee, I guess I should have asked her about it. . . “.
Scene Three: That HH is so infuriating! Why won’t he tell me what he’s really thinking? He just won’t share. Men are so emotionally stunted! They are so out of touch with their feelings! All I asked was a simple question, and he can’t even give me a straight answer. . .!
HH: “Ricki. Please. Do not overcomplicte this. I really meant it when I said that I have no preference. I don’t care whether you wear the flats or the heels. Please, just pick one. We’re going to be late for the wedding.”
Hmmm. Okay. I see his point.
Thankfully, when it comes to cooking, we are in perfect agreement: the less complicated, the better. And this pasta dish fits the bill beautifully.
When I’m looking for something to whip up on weeknights if we’re headed out after dinner and need something pronto; or for indolent Sunday evenings when we’ve spent the weekend engaged in errands or household chores and feel too lazy for anything more elaborate, I turn to this pasta. It’s proof positive that sometimes, indeed, simple is best.
The recipe, I’ve discovered, is a slight variation on a standard Italian pasta dish: spaghetti or linguine tossed with roasted red peppers, garlic, and a bit of chili. The combination of sweet (the peppers), hot (the chilis), and pungent (the garlic) is truly inspired. My handwritten version was jotted on a piece of scrap paper several years ago, and I no longer recall the original source; but since I’ve adapted it to our tastes here in the DDD household, I’m setting this down as my own adaptation.
And the preparation, as promised, is truly simple: the final product is ready in the time it takes to cook the pasta. You can create any number of variations on the base recipe by adding your own choice of dense protein (the HH likes sausage and parmesan cheese; I like chopped or ground almonds, or nutritional yeast).
Because it’s both quick and appealing, I’m submitting this recipe to Ruth’s weekly Presto Pasta Night, over at Once Upon a Feast. Look for the roundup after Friday evening!
Spicy Red Pepper Pasta
Simplicity itself is transformed into a satisfying, filling dinner in this pasta. You can use either fresh or jarred peppers here; I prefer a combination of both for the different textures and levels of sweeteness.
1 pkg. (about 350 grams) long, thin pasta (I use kamut linguine)
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
4 red peppers, either fresh or roasted and jarred (the ideal mix, I’ve found, is 2 of each), cut in long strips
4-6 cloves garlic (or more, if you like), coarsely chopped
1 tsp. chili flakes
other toppers of your choice: parmesan cheese, chopped or ground nuts, faux cheese, etc.
Bring a large pot of water to a boil and cook pasta according to package directions. If it’s ready before the pepper mixture, drain, reserving about 1/4 cup liquid; cover, and set aside.
Meanwhile, in a large pot or dutch oven, heat the oil over medium heat. Add the garlic and fresh peppers (however many you’re using), and cook until the garlic begins to brown and the peppers are wilted. Sprinkle with the chilis and stir to combine. If using prepared roasted peppers, add them now, and mix together.
Once the pasta is ready, add it along with the 1/4 cup water to the pepper pot (always wanted to say that!). Toss until the pasta is coated with the garlicy oil and the peppers are well distributed. Stir in your optional extras and transfer to serving plates. Sprinkle with more cheese or nutritional yeast, if desired. Makes 4-6 servings.
