This past month, Kim and I chose Asparagus as our SOS Kitchen Challenge key ingredient, and set out a true “kitchen challenge”: could anyone actually come up with a (tasty) sweet asparagus-based recipe? Well, I’m thrilled to report that several of you rose to the challenge quite admirably!
The asparagus recipes flowed in all month, with many arriving down to the wire. Here are some of the highlights (you can find links to all these recipes and more in the linky list below):
Thanks to everyone who participated this past month. We were thrilled with every one of your 22 entries.
Kim and I are currently putting the finishing touches on the kickoff post for May. . . a favorite ingredient that is used frequently on both our blogs. And we’re certain that everyone, wherever you’re located, can participate equally this month! Stayed tuned for the annoucement in a day or two.
[The final recipe, here with olives, green onion and almond feta]
I’ve seen it mentioned on twitter. I’ve noticed it in passing on other blogs. I’ve gone to their pages and read them. But sorry, folks, I still don’t get it.
Personally, I’d rather springform (pan) me. Then, at least, I’d have cheesecake when I was done.
Of course, I do understand the appeal of asking a blogger questions about her/himself; we all like to learn a little more about fellow bloggers’ personalities and personal lives. (When I first started blogging, memes were all the rage, and I happily participated. In a way, they accomplish something akin to Formspring, since they answer previously unanswered questions.) But what’s wrong with asking questions the old-fashioned way, through a blog comment, email, or social media? (Okay, maybe those methods aren’t so old-fashioned after all. But an inquisition, interrogation, jury duty interview or Miss Universe Pageant have all been done before).
So please, go ahead, ask me anything! (Like, for instance, what’s up with Kara DioGuardi on Idol this season? I mean, canoodling with Simon? Drooling over Casey? Crying??) Or perhaps you’d like to know: how did I make this inimitable cheese bread?
[An early attempt: higher, but too moist in the middle.]
Question Two: Why Am I Craving Bread All of the Sudden?
Now that I’m following Phase II of the ACD (almost a month with a “moderate” score on the ACD questionnaire! Whoopee!), I’m allowed certain new grains and the occasional flour product. Needless to say, I’ve been going to town baking again. And though the sweet side of the recipe folder may remain a little neglected for a while, I’m perfectly happy to play with savory.
I’m not sure why I ended up with a hankering for this type of meal-in-a-loaf (or any bread, really), since I’ve never been a fan of these floury foods in any form. I rarely consume sandwiches (in fact, you’ll find but one mention of a sandwich on this blog, and only two recipes for breads). The idea of white bread–even a really good, crusty Italian ciabatta or French baguette–leaves me feeling “meh.” Now, give me a dense, hearty pumpernickel or a moist, tawny rye, and I’m there. These were the kinds of breads we had in our house growing up–straight from my dad’s butcher shop (in an area where ethnic bakeries abounded); bread was something substantial, hefty, and dense; bread could double as a doorstop, or a means of self-defense (sorta like my confiscated keychain).
Recently, I completed testing for an upcoming review of Celine and Joni’s amazing 500 Vegan Recipes (on the blog soon!) and found myself with some leftover ”veganzola” cheese (the HH and I both loved it, and indeed enjoyed it for a few days in a row, but the recipe yields a huge amount).
Contemplating what I could do with the cheese, it suddenly hit me: “savory bread!”
Question Three: So How Do You Get the Caramel into the Caramilk Cheese into the Bread?
[Starting out with cheese filled savory muffins]
I thought it would be cool to enclose pockets of cheese within the bread so that each slice revealed a coin of the creamy stuff along with other savory goodies such as olives and green onions. But how to accomplish this feat–how to prevent the cheese from melting and dissipating into the bread, effectively disappearing?
I baked up an early batch in muffin form, simply to test the theory; would the cheese remain distinct from the batter? The answer was, clearly, “yes.” And these savory muffins make a great breakfast accompaniment.
I thought the bread would be more visually appealing, however, as a single loaf, so that’s what I tried next (told you I had lots of cheese left over!). Doubling the muffin recipe resulted in a huge slab, but one that required almost 2 hours to bake–and the middle was still a little too moist at that point.
Back to the flouring board.
[The final product: whole loaf success!]
Finally, I tweaked the recipe and proportions (while preserving the same ratios of ingredients–thanks, Michael Ruhlman!) to create a loaf about 3/4 the volume of my first attempt. This one baked up beautifully in just over an hour. I could barely wait for it to cool before tasting it–and when I did finally sink my teeth in, oooh mama! Success!
The combination of tangy, salty cheese; briny, marinated olives; and delicately pungent onion was divine. The cheese remained soft within the moist, dense bread, punctuating each slice with a warm pillow of creaminess. Manna!
Question Four: Sure, I May Have Liked It, But Are My Tastebuds Skewed From Being on the ACD for So Long?
As I sliced up the bread to photograph it for the blog, the HH observed from across the room.
“What is that?” he asked.
“Cheese bread with olives and onions,” I replied, crumbs dribbling from my mouth.
“Yeah, but it’s veeee-gan cheese, right?”
“Yup.” (munch, munch).
He watched me scarf down the first slice and reach for another. “Okay,” he conceded as I bit into it, “let me have a taste.” I handed over a corner of the slice.
He chewed contemplatively. “Hmm. Not bad,” he said. He broke off another piece from the slice and gobbled it up. Then he reached for the bread on the table.
“You can’t eat that yet–I have to take a photo,” I said.
“Well, hurry up,” he scowled, “this is really good.”
And that, dear readers, is when I knew: if an omnivorous, cheese-loving, gluten-eating, generally ornery and skeptical male wanted to chow down on this GF and vegan bread, I had a real winner on my hands.
Question Five: So What Are You Waiting For? Go Bake Bread!
Cheese Filled Onion and Olive Bread (ACD Phase II and Beyond)
This bread is so hearty, so substantial and satisfying that you may find all you need is a light green salad alongside a slice, and you’ve got a meal. And just look at that crumb!
1/4 cup (60 ml) unsweetened applesauce
2 Tbsp (30 ml) tahini (sesame paste)
1-1/4 cups (300 ml) unsweetened almond, soy or hemp milk
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) apple cider vinegar
2 Tbsp (30 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
3 Tbsp (45 ml) finely ground flax seeds
1/3 cup (80 ml) oil-cured black olives, pitted and cut in half
2-3 green onions, sliced (white and light green parts only)
3/4 cup (90 g) amaranth flour (or use quinoa)
1-1/4 cups (145 g) millet flour
1/2 cup (55 g) soy flour
1 Tbsp (15 ml) arrowroot or organic cornstarch
2-1/4 tsp (12 ml) baking powder
3/4 tsp (7.5 ml) baking soda
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) fine sea salt
about 1/2 cup (120 ml) of your favorite soft, flavorful “cheese,” homemade or packaged (I used “veganzola” from 500 Vegan Recipes and, in the final loaf, this feta.)
Preheat oven to 350F (190C). Line an 8″ (20 cm) loaf pan with parchment, or spray with nonstick spray.
In a medium bowl, whisk the applesauce and tahini until smooth. Slowly add the soymilk and mix well. Stir in the vinegar, oil and flax seeds. Gently fold in the olives and onion; set aside while you prepare the dry ingredients, or at least 5 minutes (this will allow the flax to absorb excess moisture).
In a large bowl, sift together the amaranth flour, millet flour, soy flour, arrowroot powder, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Add the wet mixture to the dry and stir just to blend (do not overmix or your bread may not rise!). The dough should be the texture of a thick muffin batter.
Very gently, spoon about half the batter into the bottom of the pan (it doesn’t have to be perfect; just estimate), spreading to ensure there are no uncovered spots. Then, using about 2 teaspoons (10 ml) cheese per portion, stagger mounds of cheese across the top of the batter, taking care not to touch the sides of the pan (and ensuring that the hunks of cheese don’t touch each other, either). Carefully spoon the remaining batter over the first half in the pan, gently spreading it to cover the cheese completely.
Bake in preheated oven 70-75 minutes, rotating the pan about halfway through, until the loaf is very deep golden brown on top (the usual test of doneness won’t work here, as the cheese will remain wet; however, if you’re certain you’re poking the loaf where there is no cheese, you can test with a toothpick inserted in the batter).
Allow to cool in the pan for 15 minutes before gently turning the loaf onto a cooling rack. Slice using a sharp knife that has been dipped in hot water and wiped dry between cuts (this will prevent the cheese from sticking to the knife, which can cause the slices to crumble). Especially good warm or at room temperature with melted coconut oil. Makes 8-10 generous slices. May be frozen.
You know, there are days when I just marvel at how much my life has been enriched by joining the world of blogging. I’m amazed at how many positive experiences this little outlet for self-expression, culinary creativity and the occasional star-struck reference to my favorite soap opera has brought my way.
At the forefront, of course, is YOU–the readers and commenters. What an inspiring group of compassionate, intelligent, witty and loyal people you are! Thank you for coming back here on a regular basis; thank you for your thoughtful comments (I am, literally, thrilled every time I see one appear at the end of a blog entry–and they keep me coming back here, too); and thank you for your feedback and knowledgeable advice (I’m so excited to start cooking from my recently-acquired cookbooks, courtesy of your suggestions–yay Crescent Dragonwagon!). Truly, a blog is a sorry, desolate place without its readers.
Along the way, I’ve also discovered many other blogs and bloggers, and what a revelation that has been. I was dumbfounded the other day when I realized there are now approximately 150 blogs on my Google Reader, and I seem to discover new and intriguing blogs every day (and I promise, they will all eventually make it to my blog roll). Where were all these talented writers hiding before the advent of blogs? Whether primarily for the recipes or mostly for the prose, I delight in reading every one and perk up each time Google informs me of a new post by a favorite blogger. Lately, I’ve been a bit remiss with my own comments on other blogs, but please know that I do read regularly and am enjoying all your posts!
Speaking of great bloggers, yesterday I had the unique pleasure of actually meeting another Toronto-area blogger, Giz from Equal Opportunity Kitchen . As you’d expect from her posts, Giz is witty, sharp, and very, very funny. We chatted like two teenaged chums who meet up again at the 10-year high school reunion, gabbing and giggling and catching up on what we’ve been doing over the past decade. In fact, our conversation flowed so smoothly and effortlessly that we were on our way out the door of the coffee shop before we realized we hadn’t even touched on the topic we’d ostensibly met to discuss–Giz’s “slimdown challenge” to me from a while back! Thanks, Giz, for a great start to my morning!
As many other bloggers have noted, blogging also forces enourages one to try out new recipes. In her recent 100th post, VeggieGirl mentioned how each blog entry represents a new recipe (can it be that the HH and I have eaten 186 new dishes–not counting all those that don’t make it to the blog–since last October??). And part of this impetus to cook novel food arrives in the form of blog events, another aspect of blogging that I thoroughly enjoy.
These days, it seems there’s a new blog event posted almost daily; I sorely wish I could participate in all of them. Unfortunately, my schedule at the moment prohibits too much experimentation in the kitchen. It’s currently end of semester at the college and my marking, like all the ripe, luscious seasonal fruit, is at its peak. I’ve got a stack of papers on my desk that just might trump the CN tower as the world’s tallest freestanding structure. And while preparing foods for blog events is admittedly more colorful than marking essays (which involves only black and red, after all), it wouldn’t do to set aside the former for the latter (well, not too often, anyway).
Still, when I read about the Healthy Cooking: Eat Well, Live Well event hosted by Mansi at Fun and Food, I knew I had to submit something. After all, isn’t the very raison d’être of this blog, more or less, “to create healthy, delicious foods”? (That, and to provide The Girls a forum in which to air their observations and opinions, of course).
(“Thanks, Mum, we appreciate that. You know we HATE having our opinions squelched.”)
I thought about what to prepare, but my mind came up blank. Then, while attempting to clear the non-marking clutter (eg., half-filled tea mug, empty water bottle, digital camera, sticky notes with recipe ideas, cookbooks previously used for blog entries, magazines previously used for blog inspiration, my checkbook, Bram Stoker’s Dracula [the novel, not the vampire], stray Chaser hairs, my journal, an anniversary card from the HH, and my calculator) off my desk the other night, I came across June’s issue of Cooking Light. Where have I been living, under a rock or something? I mean, I’m aware there’s such as thing as zucchini bread, the moist and delectable quick loaf that’s a staple in many a baking household. I am also aware that your classic carrot cake is often studded with bits of juicy pineapple. But zucchini and pineapple? Together? It just never occurred to me. Yet there it was, staring at me from the pages of Cooking Light.
The funny thing is, the magazine’s recipe was a “lightened-up” version of an older, original recipe, that contained 3 eggs, 1 cup oil, and 2 cups sugar. The Cooking Light version cut back to 2 eggs (plus an additional 1/2 cup chemicals made to taste like eggs), 2/3 cup oil and 2 cups (2 CUPS!!) white sugar. Granted, the recipe yields 2 loaves, but still–an entire cup per loaf? Seemed a bit excessive to me.
And so, I decided to lighten the already-lightened version. (Is that sort of like asking Michael Jackson to bleach his skin?) Seemed to me I could accomplish a fine job of it by reducing the oil even more, and most definitely by reducing the sugar and replacing it with natural sweeteners instead. My recent avocado kick provided yet another brilliant twist. My ratiocination went something like this: zucchini is green. Avocado is green. Why not add some more green to the green, and use avocado purée instead of egg in this recipe? Along with the Omega-3′s in the flax seeds, the avocado provides a good dose of monounsaturated fats to the batter, allowing me to reduce the oil even further. And so, my own idiosyncratic variation of zucchini-pineapple loaf was born.
The bread is fragrant with cinnamon, sweet with pineapple and soft, melting bits of chopped dates throughout. The zucchini contributes a certain depth of flavor and even more moisture–in fact, this bread treads the very limits of moistness; any more moist, and it might not qualify as a solid. The flavors meld and intensify once the bread is cooled and rested, so it’s even more tasty the morning after it’s made. And like blogging, it will enrich your day with a healthy dose of sweetness and discovery.
Zucchini and Pineapple Mini Loaves
A healthy, hearty version of a heavier standard, this bread mixes up easily and is a great recipe for using up leftover zucchini, pineapple, or overripe avocado.
5 ounces (150 g.) finely grated zucchini (fresh or previously frozen)
1/4 cup (60 ml.) avocado purée (fresh or previously frozen)
1/2 cup (100-120 g.) very well-drained crushed pineapple (drain first and then measure)
1/2 cup (90 g.) Sucanat (unrefined brown sugar)
1/4 cup (60 ml.) pure maple syrup
2 Tbsp. (30 ml.) finely ground flax seed
2 Tbsp. (30 ml.) sunflower or other light-tasting oil
1/2 tsp. (2.5 ml.) apple cider vinegar
1 tsp. (5 ml.) pure vanilla extract
generous 1/4 cup (35-40 g.) chopped dried dates
3/4 cup plus 2 Tbsp. (125-130 g.) light spelt flour
3/4 cup (90 g.) whole barley flour
1 tsp. (5 ml.) baking powder
1 tsp. (5 ml.) baking soda
2 tsp. (10 ml.) cinnamon
1/4 tsp. (1.5 ml.) sea salt
Preheat oven to 350 F (180 C). Lightly grease 8 mini-loaf pans or muffin cups, or line with paper liners.
In a medium bowl, combine the zucchini, avocado, pineapple, Sucanat, maple syrup, flax, apple cider vinegar, vanilla and chopped dates. Stir to mix well and set aside while you prepare the dry ingredients, or at least 2 minutes.
In a large bowl, sift together the flours, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, and salt. Stir or whisk to distribute the leaveners and cinnamon throughout.
Pour the wet ingredients over the dry and stir just to blend (don’t worry if a few dry spots remain here and there). Using a 1/3 cup measuring cup or large ice cream scoop, fill each tin about 3/4 full.
Bake for 15 minutes, then rotate pan and bake another 10-15 minutes, until a tester inserted in the center comes out clean. Allow to cool in pan for about 5 minutes before removing to a cooling rack. Makes 8 loaves or muffins. Store in airtight container in the refrigerator for up to 5 days (these taste even better the 2nd day). May be frozen.
[This recipe will also appear in my upcoming cookbook, Sweet Freedom, along with more than 100 others, most of which are not featured on this blog. For more information, check the "Cookbook" button at right, or visit the cookbook blog.]
It was all quiet on the DDD front yesterday, as I’m both preparing to return to school (gak!) tomorrow, and am still fighting off a weird viral thingie. So with my sinuses throbbing, I didn’t much feel like being creative in the kitchen. Woke up feeling very cold, only to discover that someone had stolen the blanket from the bed and was hogging it! (“Sorry, Mum, but since you won’t let me up there, I have to get in on the act somehow. Sheesh, haven’t you heard of the Family Bed?”)
Well, after catching up on some of my own blog reading, I was inspired by Veggie Girl’s recent baking marathon to get at it myself. In another recent post, she had mentioned the fantastic cookbook by Ellen Abraham, Simple Treats, a book I own and love, but had left, forlorn and forgotten, on the bookshelf for the past while. With my memory jogged, I set about finding something from the book to bake.
I adore freshly baked muffins or scones for breakfast, and was in the mood for something like that. I also had a bag of dried figs that have been waiting on the shelf for just such an occasion, so searched for something and came up with Ellen’s Walnut-Fig Bread. The recipe is straightforward and I love the fact that she uses barley flour for a change from spelt, so I dug right in. Rather than bake the bread in a loaf pan, I opted for a 9 x 9 inch square so we could cut it in cubes, sort of like a cornbread (not sure why; just in the mood!). The square pan cut the baking time almost in half, but other than that, I followed the recipe exactly.
Well, was it ever delicious! Dense, moist, with the crackly seeds and sweet chewiness of the figs dotted throughout, plus a hint of cinnamon–perfect for a cold winter’s morning with a dollop of almond butter and a steaming cup of green tea. My HH, reluctant to try it at first, ended up ready to devour the whole thing and ate three squares in quick succession, even after having had a full breakfast! (And no, despite my many references to how much he eats, my HH is NOT overweight, and has never had a weight problem. Is that warped, or what?).
Most of the time, I find baking to be therapeutic and soothing. Unfortunately, the effort this time pretty much wiped me out, and I spent the remainder of the day just reading and procrastinating attempting to do some course prep. By the time dinner rolled around, I abandoned my original, more ambitious, plans for pasta and focused instead on some kind of quick but warming and nutritious soup to make.
To me, soup is a saviour in the kitchen, since you can basically throw any and all vegetables–whether fresh or even a little past their prime–into a pot, boil away, and you’ve got something hot, yummy, and good for you. Even when the combination is otherwise less than dazzling, just pour the whole mess in the blender, add a splash of soymilk and/or a previously boiled potato for creaminess, and you’ve got a great potage.
Last night, I just combined whatever bland winter veggies we had on hand. I began by sauteing an onion, some chopped garlic, sliced celery, and sliced carrots. While those were softening up, I chopped some broccoli and a Yukon Gold potato. To the pot, I added some salt, pepper, fresh parsley, dill, and just a pinch of smoked paprika along with about 6 cups of water. The mixture was still looking a little pallid, so I ramped it up a bit with a teaspoon of instant veggie broth powder, a squirt of ketchup (we had no tomato in the house, and it needed something) and a splash of Bragg’s. By then, its appearance had perked up a bit, so I tossed in the broccoli and potatoes an set it simmering.
But something was still missing. . . . something to add the chewy density you’d get with pasta, something to give it a little more oomph. . . .ah! It hit me: dumplings! I have a wonderful recipe for a curried vegetable stew with dumplings, so figured I could just wing it and create something similar to go with my veggie soup. For variety and flavor, I settled on fresh herbed dumplings: in a bowl, I mixed about a cup of oat flour with chopped fresh cilantro, salt, thyme, and some ground mustard. I rubbed in about a tablespoon of coconut butter, then splashed about 4 tablespoons of soymilk into the bowl, tossed with a fork until it came together, and rolled little balls that I placed gingerly on top of the simmering soup, where they bobbed gently (covered) for about 10 minutes. This is the end result:
It turned out to be quite satisfying, with a hearty flavor and big chunks of the veggies. The dumplings provided a contrast in consistency, light and tender on the inside with a springy bite.
After slurping up a couple of bowls, I was feeling a little better and was able to spend the rest of the evening relaxing with my HH and Girls. I guess Chaser could tell I wasn’t feeling up to par, as she didn’t even attempt to steal the covers at night, but just let me sleep.
(“I thought I’d give you a break, Mum, since you were under the weather. But now that it’s morning, how about some of that fig bread?”)
Necessity is the mother of many a new recipe in our house.
Because there are only the two of us (humans) living here (“Don’t forget about us, Mum!“), it’s usually fairly easy to decide what to have for dinner, or what to buy at the grocery store. My HH and I share many a similar taste, except for all that animal flesh he eats, and we even enjoy cooking together whenever we do cook (which seems to be less and less frequently these days, come to think of it).
One thing we have in common is an apathetic response to pears. I crave a fresh pear probably twice a year–no connection to any other event or season; it’s just something that happens, and then I eat a pear. When I do bite into it, I do appreciate all its lush juiciness, smooth, aromatic flesh and the little-known fibre boost it supplies.
Pears wouldn’t be a problem over here, except that we are also the happy recipients of a weekly organic fruit and vegetable box. When I’m not being lazy, or when I have extra time on my hands, I will contact the company ahead of time if there’s something I don’t want (such as cantaloupe, or extra mushrooms) and they will kindly exchange it for something else I do want (such as kale, or sweet potatoes). However, more often than not, I am forgetful this way, and we end up with two to four pears in the box.
If I’m indifferent to fresh pears, my HH is positively aloof. He won’t eat them; doesn’t like them; won’t even so much as glance in their direction. The result of this situation at home is the all-too-frequent overly ripe pears sitting in a bowl in our kitchen, looking ennervated and gloomy and feebly hanging on for dear life. What to do?
In the past, I’ve simply chucked them, with no fanfare and lots of guilt (well, at least I put them in the organic waste bin). Then I realized that I could quarter, core, and freeze them for later use in a morning smoothie, along with my frozen banana and berries. This worked well, and I enjoyed the added flavor imparted by the pears. Eventually, though, the number of ziplocs containing pears just grew too large.
A couple of weeks ago, I decided to whip up some of my favorite oatbran banana muffins, and grabbed a bag of frozen overripe bananas to defrost. To my dismay, I realized once it was too late to re-freeze them that the melted, leaky mass in the bowl wasn’t bananas at all, but a batch of my frozen pears. What to do?
The pear slices were too soggy and soft to use as they were (and certainly not suitable to cut into dice, as is so often the requirement for any baked goods made with fresh pears). I had a wonderful recipe for pear and ginger muffins that I’d made about a year ago, but it called for freshly diced pears, and this mass of oozing, juicy, soggy goo was just too amorphous for any such recipe.
Then it hit me that I could do with the pears what I had intended to do with the bananas: grab my trusty hand blender and whip them in to a puree. Then use the puree in a quickbread recipe.
I got to work and concocted what I thought would work. I even threw in some Salba, as I’d just bought my first bag (for the low, low price of $13.70!!!) and wanted to experiment. An hour later, I had four pear and ginger loaves–a little too flat, a little too dry, but on the right track. A few more test runs, and I was pleased enough to give the results to my HH to taste. I told him it was a “spice bread.”
Well, let’s just say, the days of the Pear Prohibition are over. My HH made quick work of 2 loaves in succession that very night, then asked for another for breakfast the next day. I’ve since told him they contain pear, and he’s even okay with it.
Here’s the recipe, so you can see what you think. Another reason I’m excited about it is that this will be my first contribution to the ARF/5-A-Day Tuesday round-up next week, hosted by Cate at Sweetnicks.
[NB. Those eagle-eyed among you (okay, technically "between you," since among is reserved for more than two) will notice that there is, indeed, a photo attached to this post, despite my earlier whining that I'd forgotten my camera up north. Luckily, I shot a few photos of my pear loaves last week, when I baked them. Wow, that free camera can snap nifty photos!]
Mini Pear and Ginger Loaves
1-1/3 cups (approx 325 ml) pear puree (can be fresh or previously frozen; use overripe pears)
2 tsp. (10 ml.) freshly grated ginger root
2 Tbsp. (30 ml.) finely ground chia seeds (I’m guessing you can substitute ground flax seeds as well)
2/3 cup (160 ml) agave nectar (dark or light–your choice)
1/2 cup (120 ml) organic sunflower or other light-tasting oil
2 Tbsp. (30 ml.) good quality balsamic vinegar
1 tsp. ( 5 ml.) pure vanilla extract
1/2 tsp. (2.5 ml.) pure lemon extract
2/3 cup (75 g.) walnuts, broken into pieces
1-1/3 cups (175 g.) whole barley flour
2/3 cup (85 g.) whole oat flour
1-1/2 tsp. (7 ml) aluminum-free baking powder
1 tsp. (5 ml) baking soda
1/2 tsp. (2 ml.) sea salt
2 tsp. (10 ml.) ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp. (1 ml.), scant, ground cloves
Preheat oven to 350F (180C). Lightly spray an 8-loaf mini loaf pan (or 8 individual mini loaf pans) with nonstick spray, or line with paper liners.
In a medium bowl, combine the pear puree, ginger, Salba, agave nectar, oil, vinegar, vanilla, and lemon extract. Mix well, then gently fold in the walnut pieces. Set aside while you measure the dry ingredients, or for at least 2 minutes.
In a large bowl, sift together the flours, baking powder, baking soda, salt, cinnamon and cloves.
Pour the wet mixture over the dry mixture and stir to combine. Do not overmix (it’s okay if a few small dry lumps remain here and there). Using a large ice cream scoop or small measuring cup, pour the mixture into the loaf pans, filling about 3/4 full (these won’t rise a lot more once they’re in the oven).
Bake in preheated oven for about 30 minutes, rotating the pan once after 20 minutes to ensure even heating. Loaves are ready when a tester inserted in the middle comes out clean but moist.
Cool 5 minutes in pans, then remove to racks to cool. These freeze well. Makes 8 mini loaves. May also be baked as muffins.
Final note: the last time I whipped these up, I was probably daydreaming while stirring and forgot entirely to add the oil; it didn’t make a huge difference, and they were still delicious. So you can also bake these as fat-free Pear and Ginger Mini Loaves or Muffins, if you wish.
[This recipe will also appear in my upcoming cookbook, Sweet Freedom, along with more than 100 others, most of which are not featured on this blog. For more information, check the "Cookbook" button at right, or visit the cookbook blog.]
