|
|
[Before I delve into today's snack post, I want to send out a heartfelt "thank you" to each and every one of you who responded to my last post. I was bowled over by the outpouring of kindness and support that you folks displayed. And thanks to all of you who shared your own story or struggles with food issues, whether dietary restrictions or your own food addictions. I've said this many times before on the blog, but really, I can't say it enough: you people are remarkable! Thank you, all, for visiting, for reading, for commenting, and for your thoughtful responses and ideas, which all add their own kind of sweetness to my life. Without you all, this would be a very lonely (not to mention unrewarding) endeavor, indeed!]
And now, on to the food! A while back, I promised a post on anti-candida snack foods along with the breakfasts and desserts. (And even though I’m assuming the anti-candida diet will be temporary for me, as it is for almost everyone, it’s amazing how my blog has suddenly morphed into a “candida” blog. Most of the searches that lead people here involve the words, “anti-candida” or “candida diet.” Except, of course, for those that involve the words, “dogs girls sexy” or “dogs girls dessert.” Don’t worry, though–I don’t let the real Girls see any of these–it would be too traumatic for them.).
Over the past few months, I realized that most of my snacks don’t actually require a recipe: baby carrots (in moderation–they are pretty high in natural sugars, after all); grape tomatoes; celery sticks; hummus and any of the previous veggies; roasted chick peas; cucumber rounds; kale chips (and have you seen this recent iteration? They sound great!); or, most recently, fresh berries (yay! fruit–though limited to berries and a few others–has made its triumphant return to my diet!). Although I was never a “potato chips” kind of gal (I think you can be one or the other: salty-snack person or sweet-snack person. I always leaned toward the chocolate bars, cookies, cupcakes, etc. rather than the salty snacks), I have been craving something snacky recently. Something crunchy. Something salty. Something portable that isn’t nuts or seeds.
And so, on a whim a couple of weeks ago, I visited our local health food store in search of snacks. My encounter with the cashier went something like this:
Scene: small, family-owned health food store tucked in a local plaza not far from where Ricki lives. Reminiscent of old-time general stores that you see on reruns like The Andy Griffith Show * or Green Acres.
Ricki [browsing around. She approaches the affable, somewhat retro-looking cashier.] “Say, do you have any snack foods for someone who can’t eat gluten, sweeteners, refined anything, eggs, or dairy?”
(Actually, I never begin sentences with the word, “Say,” but it does make the dialogue sound much more as if I really live in a small, close-knit neighborhood like Mayberry, doesn’t it?).
Young Cashier: “Why, yes, Ma’am, yes, indeed, we do.” (Okay, she didn’t really start with, “Why, yes,” either, and didn’t say “indeed.” Another attempt at 1950s-era verisimilitude. She did, however, actually call me “Ma’am,” which made me feel very authentically 1950s).
Young Cashier: [Leading Ricki to a shelf containing Mary's products.] These are all gluten-free and sugar free, made with whole foods ingredients. You might like to try some of these. The Curry flavor is my favorite.
Ricki: [Speechless. Her mind is reeling]: Wow! You mean there are actually snacks I can eat on this &*%$#! regimen that I don’t have to make myself?? Okay! I’ll take ten bags!
(All right. I admit that I didn’t really say THAT, either. But I wanted to. Perhaps realistic dramatic representation is not my forte.)
Well, if you live in California–or anywhere in the US, really–and are either (a) on a gluten-free diet; (b) into healthy foods; (c) the owner of a health food store; or (d) named Mary, you have most likely already heard of or tasted the Mary’s Gone Crackers product called “Sticks and Twigs.” On the other hand, if you live in the Distant Far Northern Canadian Outpost that is Toronto–as I do–the discovery was a revelation. (Do you think perhaps I should stop making tongue-in-cheek comments about how far north, how cold, and how polite it is here in Canada? After all, there are some people out there who might actually think I’m being serious!). These snacks resemble pretzels but are crunchier. They’re a whole foods, no-added-fat snack with little pellets of baked amaranth and quinoa scattered throughout. They come in flavorful choices such as Curry or Chipotle Tomato.
And they are mighty addictive.
Only one problem: at $5.99 per 8-ounce (about 250 g) bag, they really did leave me speechless.
In recent months, I’ve noticed a few bloggers playing a game that involves listing the ingredients in a processed “food” and having readers guess what it is (such as this one on Meghan’s blog). For instance, did you know that “Wheat Flour, Sugar, Dextrose, Vegetable Oil, Glucose Syrup, Milk Whey Powder, Invert Sugar Syrup, Fat Reduced Cocoa Powder, Wheat Starch, Salt, Raising Agent (Sodium Hydrogen Carbonate, Diphosphates), Dried Egg White, Beef Gelatin, Stabiliser (Xanthan Gum), Vanilla Extract, Modified Wheat Starch, Colour (Caramel E150d, Titanium Oxide) and Emulsifier (Soy Lecithin)” is actually a Pop Tart? (Yep. Titanium Oxide–often used in paint, or as a sunscreen--is a bonus ingredient in your breakfast “pastry.” Eat up, everyone!).
Well, I decided to turn that game on its head. I took a food I like, namely the Sticks and Twigs, studied the ingredients, and then attempted to reproduce it at home. The result was better than I could have expected. I daresay, I like my version better than the original!
Mine are surprisingly like Mary’s, but a bit thicker, and–most important–at a fraction of the cost. They are, however, still exceedingly crunchy, so if you’re in need of some elective dental work, don’t eat these until after the filling has been replaced. (Just kidding. But they really do snap, crackle and pop in your mouth).
And, if it turns out they’re not to your taste after all, they make excellent dog biscuits.
With all the healthy whole-grain ingredients in these, I thought they’d make a perfect contribution to Food Renegade’s Fight Back Fridays, showcasing real food. Take a peek, or submit your own healthy recipe!
["Mmmm, nice and crunchy, Mum, just like real sticks and twigs. But what was that you mentioned before about not letting us see something--? You're not hiding other snacks from us, are you?"]
*For those of you young enough that you can’t remember a time before computers: yep, “Ronny Howard”–ie, Opie–is the same person as director Ron Howard. Wasn’t he a cutie when he still had hair?
Crunchy Stalks and Branches Snacks
A perfect take-along snack that’s crunchy and filled with real nutrient value: with amaranth, millet, quinoa and rice, these savory treats contain a fair portion of vitamins, minerals, and protein in each serving.
3 Tbsp (45 ml) amaranth, dry
1/4 cup (60 ml) quinoa, dry
1/4 cup (60 ml) millet, dry
2 cups (480 ml) cooked brown rice (I used brown basmati)
1/4 cup (60 ml) finely ground flax seeds
2 Tbsp (30 ml) finely ground chia seeds
2 tsp (10 ml) mild curry powder
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) fine sea salt, or more, to taste
2 Tbsp (30 ml) sesame seeds
1/2-1 cup (120-240 ml) water, as needed
In a small bowl, soak the amaranth, quinoa and millet for about 2 hours (up to 6 hours). Drain in a very fine sieve. Remove about 3 Tbsp (45 ml) of the mixture and set aside.
Preheat oven to 325F (160C). Line a large cookie sheet with parchment paper, or spray with nonstick spray.
Place the remaining amaranth, quinoa and millet mixture into the bowl of a strong blender along with the rice, flax, chia, curry powder and salt. Add 1/2 cup (120 ml) water and blend to a paste. If the mixture is too thick, add a little more water until you have a mixture the consistency of a soft cookie dough. It should be soft enough to pipe but firm enough to hold its shape if you scoop some out and place it on the cookie sheet.
Scrape the mixture into a bowl and then stir in the 3 Tbsp (45 ml) whole seeds that have been set aside. Using an icing gun or cookie press, press out the mixture in long, thin logs across the cookie sheet (or make into any shapes you like). I used my icing gun without a tip to create logs for this, but you could use any shape you like. If you have neither an icing gun nor cookie press, you can shape the “dough” into disks or logs by hand, or simply spread the mixture into a large rectangle and then bake as crackers.
Bake the snacks in preheated oven for about 30 minutes before checking. Turn them over and continue to bake, another 30-45 minutes, until they are very browned, dry and crisp. (If baking as crackers, remove from oven after 30 minutes and cut into desired cracker shapes; then turn each cracker over individually and continue to bake as above).
Allow to cool before storing. Makes 4-8 snack-size servings, depending on how hungry you are. If sufficiently baked, these will keep for at least 2 weeks at room temperature in a covered container (ours only lasted a few days, but they were clearly sturdy enough for the long term).
[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. For this fifth edition, I'm focusing on cilantro. The series is presented on an occasional (and entirely arbitrary) basis, before I move on to the next lucky comestible. This is the third entry on cilantro.]
Those of you who live in the GTA (Greater Toronto Area) will likely nod your heads and roll your eyes in empathy when I mention that we’ve been having terrifically odd weather this summer. One moment it’s sunny and arid as Las Vegas (minus the neon and replica Eiffel Tower, of course), the next as cold and damp as Dracula’s bedroom. This week, it’s hot and humid, with temperatures around the 25C (77F) mark, more typical of July in Toronto.
This year notwithstanding, I do love summer. As a teen, I was an avid devotee of sun worship (sounds like a cult, doesn’t it?). But with fears of overexposure, UV damage and skin cancers abounding these days, I bet the term ”sun worshipper” doesn’t even exist any more. Maybe we’re more like “sun admirers from afar.”
I must have inherited the predilection from my mom, who spent most of her summer afternoons planted on a lawn chair in our back yard, head tipped back and face directed skyward as if she were getting a wash at a hair salon. Mom could remain motionless that way for hours, until her skin turned deep bronze with just an undertone of dead lobster. But she loved it; and even though her chest eventually began to show the telltale rivulets and fissures of overexposure, her face always remained smooth and unwrinkled, appearing years younger than her chronological age, right until the day she died (which had nothing to do with skin cancer, as you might imagine).
When I was about 14, one summer I decided that I had to acquire a ”real” tan. Being naturally pallid (my skin is normally the shade of a block of raw tofu*), I knew I’d have to work up to it gradually. So I slathered on Johnson’s Baby Oil (the more “mature” among you will remember those days) and set myself the task of sunning first for 5 minutes, ten the following day, then fifteen. . . I think I worked myself up to about half an hour before I got so bored I had to go inside. (On another note, can you believe we used to slather ourselves with BABY OIL, literally frying our skin in the sun like human wontons? To make matters worse, we’d often use sun reflectors around our faces, to intensify the rays. . . like Dorian Gray, I’m waiting in dread fear for the day when that summer starts to show its effects).
I did achieve the sought-after copper hue, though. At the end of August, I arrived at a neighbour’s house to babysit, and (after she glanced at my deeply burnished epidermis), she exclaimed, ”Gee, I didn’t know your family spent the summer in the Caribbean.” Victory!
Well, that was the last time my skin was any shade darker than straw. These days, I don’t spend nearly as much time outside. For some reason, as I grew older, I developed a strong aversion to anything entomological (even those cute little Volkswagens make me cringe). As a result, I much prefer to be outdoors during the day when it’s hot and sunny and even the ants retreat to the shade. Bar-B-Q’s or dining al fresco on summer evenings just means I’m another one of the appetizers at the buffet, as the mosquitoes feast on my pale, exposed skin. Ouch. ( The HH, whose natural complexion is somewhat tawny, will often remark, “It’s fine out here. There are no bugs.” That’s only because he’s not their meal of choice. Well, that’s one type of rejection I’d actually welcome, thanks.).
Whether or not you like to spend evenings on the patio in summer, this Confetti Salad works beautifully in the heat. The mosaic of colors effectively reflects the tangle of flowers, grasses, and fresh produce that adorn many gardens and farmers markets at this time of year, their variegated colors competing for first billing in the bowl. I love the brilliant yellows and reds from the corn and peppers, the variety of textures, tastes, and colors that share space in this salad. The dressing is light and crisp, composed of lots of lemon and a hint of sesame oil.
This dish was a perfect use for some of the wild rice I received as a gift from Courtney; coupled with inspiration from a favorite recipe in Calci-Yum, it’s an ideal salad to serve to guests at an impromptu summer dinner party.
Now I just have to hope it rains so we can eat indoors.
*How’s that for a sneaky veg*n reference?
Confetti Quinoa and Wild Rice Salad with Cilantro (or Parsley)
adapted from Calci-Yum! by David and Rachelle Bronfman
A great salad for a gathering or a light dinner at home. Serve this cold or at room temperature, and feel free to mix up the veggies to your own tastes.
For the Salad:
2 cups (480 ml) cooked quinoa, at room temperature
1 cup (240 ml) cooked wild rice (or use brown rice), at room temperature
1 large tomato, diced
1/2 sweet red pepper, diced
1/2 cup (120 ml) red onion, chopped fine
1 cup (240 ml) fresh or frozen corn kernels
3/4 cup (180 ml) fresh cilantro leaves, coarsely chopped (or use some/all parsley instead)
3/4 cup (135 g) natural almonds, coarsely chopped
1/2 cup (55 g) natural walnut halves, coarsely chopped
For the Dressing:
1/2 cup (120 ml) freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 Tbsp (15 ml) dark sesame oil
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) fine sea salt
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) cumin
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) coriander
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) agave nectar or maple syrup
Toss salad ingredients together in a large bowl.
In a small bowl, combine dressing ingredients and whisk to blend well. Pour over salad ingredients and toss to coat. Serve immediately, or refrigerate until cold. Makes 4-6 servings. Keeps, covered in the refrigerator, up to 3 days.
ACD variation: Use 5 drops of stevia liquid or equivalent stevia powder instead of the agave.
Other posts in this series:
Other Lucky Comestibles:
Last Year at this Time: Flash in the Pan: Mex-Ital Tofu Scramble
© 2009 Diet, Dessert and Dogs
* Or, Give Pods a Chance!
[Okra pods, in the raw]
I have a confession to make. I haven’t told you all about this yet because, quite frankly, I was afraid you’d reject me. Move that cursor elsewhere, and click. At best, roll your eyes. Maybe snort in disgust. Maybe gag, even.
But I’ve decided it’s time. I mean, really, what kind of lasting relationship can we have without full disclosure?
So I’m just going to come out and say it:
I love okra.
I.
Love.
Okra.
Are you running for the hills yet?
Oh, I know what you’re thinking: Okra? That polygonal pod that’s a staple in gumbo, and mostly reviled? That much-maligned member of the marrow family (but cocoa is in that family, too!) that most people reject without so much as a nibble? That pariah of the produce aisle that’s often referred to as gluey, viscous, slimy or mucilaginous–with seeds that remind you of those bowls of peeled grape “eyeballs” we all stuck our hands into at Halloween when we were kids?
Yep. That okra.
I adore okra’s long, lantern-shaped pods, the vibrant green skins with just a hint of fuzz and the wagon-wheel innards when you cut them across. I love the mild, slightly woodsy flavor and the pop of the seeds in your mouth. I could eat okra every day, and never tire of it.
I think it’s heartbreaking that okra gets such a bad rap. Okra is like the pimply nerd at school–the reject, the Carrie, the Napoleon Dynamite , the Ugly Betty. The last kid to be chosen for the baseball team. The scrawny kid on the beach who gets sand kicked in his face. The pink-and-too-frilly kid who takes her dad to the prom. The computer geek nobody wants to date so then he quits high school and starts some computer company run from his parents garage and redeems himself by becoming the richest guy in America. . . oh, wait. That would make him Bill Gates, wouldn’t it? And then he’d actually be much sought after, wouldn’t he? Well, heck! To my mind, that IS okra!
[A bit of spice, a bit of bite, a bit of lemon zest: an endearing combination.]
I think we should give okra the accolades it deserves. Let’s nurture its low self-esteem. Let’s compliment its grassy hue and lovely symmetry, tug its cute little tail at the narrow end and make it blush. Sure, it was born a green vegetable (already at a disadvantage compared to, say, watermelon). And then there’s the goo factor. But sometimes, with a recipe that takes our humble ingredient and pushes it to be its best, well, that little green lantern can really shine. That’s what I wish for my buddy, okra.
In these recipes, okra is elevated to something that transcends its reputation. It’s like okra gussied up for a date. Okra getting an A+ in physics. Okra at its best self–I know, like okra after taking one of Oprah’s “Be Your Best Self” weekends! (Just imagine the introductions at that seminar, sort of like David Letterman’s ill-fated attempt at hosting the Oscars: “Okra, meet Oprah. Oprah, okra.”).
Besides, okra has much to offer us. Described by WholeHealthMD as having a taste that “falls somewhere between that of eggplant and asparagus,” it’s a good source of Vitamin C and several minerals; and the seeds offer up protein in every pod, along with 4 grams of both soluble (known to help keep cholesterol levels in check) and insoluble (great for regularity) fiber in a one-cup (240 ml) serving.
[Still slightly al dente in this photo; cook a bit longer if you're an okra neophyte.]
These are two of my favorite okra dishes, ones that we consume fairly regularly here in the DDD household. The first is another adaptation from my dog-eared copy of Flip Shelton’s Green, a Moroccan Spiced Okra-Quinoa Pilaf. I’ve made liberal changes to this one, including altering the base from rice to quinoa. The spices are subtle with a barely detectable undertone of lemon zest in the mix. Served sprinkled with chopped nuts, this pilaf is a meal in a bowl all on its own.
The second dish comes from one of my all-time favorite cookbooks, Indian Cooking Course by Manisha Kanani. Again, I’ve made a few alterations to the original, which asks you to dry-cook the okra on the stovetop; I’ve found that adding chopped tomatoes and allowing the tender pods to stew in the juices produces a more appealing taste and texture. Although a masala curry, this one isn’t the least bit spicy, yet is still rife with the flavors of tomato, cumin, coriander and fresh cilantro. It’s a perfect side dish for Indian food, of course, but we also enjoy this as an accompaniment to burgers or cooked grains.
So go ahead, give okra a try! Who knows? You may even like it. And don’t worry, the secret will be safe with me.
Moroccan-Spiced Pilaf with Quinoa and Okra
adapted from Flip Shelton’s Green
Subtle flavors of warming spices and comforting vegetables, this quinoa-based pilaf can be made with any favorite grain.
2 Tbsp (30 ml) extra virgin olive oil
1 medium onion, diced fine
2 medium carrots, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) chili flakes
2 tsp (10 ml) ground ginger
2 tsp (10 ml) ground cumin
1 tsp (5 ml) ground coriander
1 cup (240 ml) dry quinoa
1/2 cup (120 ml) green or brown lentils
3-4 cups (720-960 ml) vegetable broth or stock
freshly grated zest of one lemon
4 ounces (100 g) okra, washed, trimmed and cut into pieces
1/2 cup (120 ml) fresh cilantro leaves, chopped
1/2 cup (75 g) roughly chopped cashews or pistachios
Preheat oven to 350 F (180 C). Grease a large covered casserole dish.
In a large pot or dutch oven, heat the oil over medium heat; add onion, carrot, garlic, chili flakes, ginger, cumin and coriander. Stir until the vegetables start to soften and the spices are fragrant. Add the quinoa and lentils and cook for a few minutes more. Add the broth, lemon zest and okra and return to the boil. Remove from heat.
Pour the mixture into the prepared casserole dish, cover, and bake for 45-50 minutes, until the liquid is mostly absorbed. Sprinkle with the cilantro and nuts before serving. Makes 4 servings. May be frozen.
Anti-Candida Variation: omit the nuts, or use chopped almonds instead.
Okra Masala
adapted from Indian Cooking Course by Manisha Kanani
This is the perfect introduction to those wary of okra: keeping the pods whole prevents the juices from being released, and once the okra is cooked it’s not the least bit gooey inside. Be sure the pods are very soft and cooked through (the color will darken to an olive green) for best effect.
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) ground turmeric
1 tsp (5 ml) mild chili powder
1 Tbsp (30 ml) ground cumin
1 Tbsp (30 ml) gorund coriander
1/4 tsp (1 ml) fine sea salt
1/4 tsp (1 ml) agave nectar or Sucanat
1 Tbsp (15 ml) fresh lemon juice
2 Tbsp (30 ml) finely chopped fresh cilantro leaves
1 Tbsp (15 ml) extra virgin olive oil
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) cumin seeds
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) black mustard seeds
2 large tomatoes, diced
1 pound (450 g) okra or green beans, or a combination (washed and trimmed but not cut)
In a small bowl, combine the turmeric, chili powder, cumin, ground coriander, salt, agave, lemon juice and chopped cilantro (the mixture will still be fairly dry).
Heat the oil in a large frypan over medium heat and add the cumin and mustard seeds; fry for about 2 minutes, or until they begin to splutter and pop.
Add the spice mixture and continue to cook for another 2 minutes.
Add the tomatoes and okra and stir to coat well. Lower heat to simmer, cover, and cook until the okra is very tender and most of the moisture from the tomatoes has evaporated, 25-35 minutes. Garnish with more chopped cilantro if desired. Makes 4 servings.
Anti-Candida Variation: Use 3-5 drops of stevia in place of the agave or Sucanat.
Last Year at this Time: Maple-Walnut Cookies
© 2009 Diet, Dessert and Dogs
I had intended a lovely post today, in honor of the upcoming Thanksgiving long weekend to the south of us. But time constraints (read: massive, unwieldly pile of essays and assignments to mark) have prevented me from following through. So I’ll just have to wait till the next batch of holidays in December to post about some new, frost-and-snow inspired, treats.
Instead, I thought I’d pull together a few recipes from previous posts that are suitably festive for a holiday table, or the breakfast table the following day (I’ve also got a few detox recipes on the blog–I’ll let you seek those out yourselves, as required). Most of these are fairly quick to make as well, as long as you’ve got the ingredients on hand.
Hope everyone enjoys some togetherness with friends and family, great food, and a bit of time to relax and play.
See you after the holiday!
“Mum, will Elsie be able to play again after the holiday? I mean, it’s just so boring with her out of commission. . . ”
Main Meal Dishes:
Side Dishes:
Desserts:
Breakfast Dishes:
[Little aside that has nothing to do with the rest of this entry: while glancing at Wordpress stats before writing this post, I just realized that my previous entry was number 200 on this blog! Where has the time gone?? I'm really amazed that I've written 200 whole blog entries--seems like just yesterday I started writing here (or, at least, just 306 days ago). And what better way to celebrate than with yet another blog entry?]
I’ve always thought of beets as a much maligned foodstuff. I mean, they just don’t have the glamor or charm of more popular roots like carrots or parsnips, or even the whimsical appeal of tubers, like yams or potatoes. It’s like beets are the scrawny kid on the beach who gets sand thrown in his face by the jock, or maybe the chubby kid on the baseball field who’s last to be picked for the team. Poor, plump, unathletic beets!
It’s not just beets that evoke this reaction in me, of course. I for one have always been a sucker for the underdog. Is it because I myself have felt like an underdog much of the time? Is it because the underdog generally tends to be the more quirky, the more multi-faceted, the more interesting and more sensitive individual in any competition? Is it because I’ve seen Rocky too many times? Or is it just because the last syllable in the word “underdog” is “dog”?
With school just around the corner again (really, where HAS the time gone??), all this thought of underdogs reminded me of my own first week as an undergraduate at university. Knowing absolutely nothing about football but eager to take part in orientation activities, I attended the first intercollegiate football game on campus. Okay, actually, I had no interest whatsoever in being part of orientation, but I was pretty sure there might be some guys at the game. And I did want to meet guys.
Anyway, our team (“The Lancers”) were suffering a royal pummeling from the opposition (the celebrated Toronto team, if I remember correctly). Every time our guys messed up and fumbled the ball or narrowly missed a touchdown, they’d be greeted with fervent, ear-shattering boos and a chorus of hisses. Except for one guy, that is.
This one guy, a lone figure in the crowd, kept leaping to his feet after each mistake, punching his fists into the air above his head and bellowing, “Great effort, guys! Good for you! Way to go–great try!!” Talk about supporting the underdog! In fact, I was transfixed by this bizarre fellow. I mean, rooting for the losing team? I couldn’t help but think, ”Wow. That is really admirable. I’d love to meet that guy some time. Actually, I’d like to date that guy*.” In the end, our team still lost, but at least they felt appreciated.
These days, I’m a lot more willing to stand apart from the crowd and actively support a less popular concept or foodstuff (it’s pretty much the status quo whenever I eat with my family, anyway, given my oddball dietary restrictions). I tend to harbor the same overprotective feelings for foods I believe are unappreciated. Like beets. Even though the HH thinks they taste like dirt most of the time (never did ask how he’d know that fact), these earthy roots are one of my favorite foods. They’re loaded with folate and potassium; they have some powerful antioxidant properties and are known to help tone and cleanse the liver; they can reduce inflammation in some chronic conditions; and they double as a nifty lipstick in a pinch (thanks for the tip, Cleopatra!). And ever since I learned to roast instead of boil them, I’ve been entirely enamored of these beautiful burgundy bulbs.
If you’ve never been a fan, I’d highly recommend trying this recipe. After being roasted to bring out their natural sugars, the beets are cubed and tossed with quinoa, toasted walnuts, and a lemony, garlicky, tangy dressing. The recipe is a favorite of mine, and one I’ve been preparing regularly since the very first cooking class I taught back in 2003. If you’re avoiding fermented foods (as I am supposed to be doing now), simply omit the balsamic and use a bit more lemon juice instead; use dried mustard instead of dijon; and sweeten slightly with a few more drops of stevia.
Since we received both golden and red beets in our organic produce box last week, I made the salad with both types this time, but the results really are much more visually impressive made entirely with red beets, as they infuse the quinoa with a brilliant crimson hue that’s quite arresting. (I’ll include an updated photo next time I make it the usual way).
“Mum, in case you’ve forgotten, I’m the underdog in this house. I mean, I’m always under Elsie when we fight. And don’t you always tell me I’m underfoot, too? So I guess this means you think I’m ‘more quirky, more multi-faceted, more interesting and more sensitive,’ ? And aren’t you supposed to feed the underdog extra treats, too? “
Since it stars quinoa, I’m submitting this recipe to Melissa of Baking a Sweet Life for her Let it Grain Blog Event (this month’s edition is Quinoa).
Quinoa, Roasted Beet and Walnut Salad
Equally delicious cold in summer or warm in winter, this salad is full of cleansing and detoxifying ingredients: beets tone the liver, while cilantro helps to remove toxins from the system.
3-4 medium beets, washed and trimmed (do not peel)
1 c. (240 ml.) dry quinoa
2 cups (480 ml.) water
1/2 c. (120 ml.) walnuts, lightly roasted and cooled
2-3 cloves garlic, minced or grated
grated rind of one lemon
juice of one lemon (about 1/4 cup)
2 T. (30 ml.) balsamic vinegar
1/4 c. (60 ml.) extra-virgin olive oil
2 tsp. (10 ml.) dijon mustard
5 drops Stevia or sugar
1/3 cup (80 ml.) fresh cilantro, chopped
salt and pepper to taste
Preheat oven to 425 F. Wrap beets in foil and bake until extremely tender, about 45 minutes-1 hour. Let cool, then peel off the skins and dice into 3/4 inch (2-cm.) cubes. Set aside.
Bring water to boil in a small heavy saucepan. Rinse quinoa well and add to water. Return to boil, then reduce heat to low and cover. Allow to simmer, untouched, for 25 minutes, then check to see if water has been absorbed. If not, continue simmering until all water is absorbed, then uncover and allow to cool. (If you are in a hurry, you can turn the hot quinoa into a glass bowl at this point and place it in the fridge for about 30 minutes).
In a nonstick frypan, heat oil and add garlic and lemon rind. Cook and stir for 2 minutes, then add balsamic vinegar, lemon juice and stevia. Remove from heat.
Add beets to cooled quinoa. Break walnuts into pieces and add to the bowl. Pour dressing over and toss well until quinoa is tinted pink. Add cilantro and combine well. Season to taste with salt and pepper. This salad is even better the second day, after flavours meld. Makes 4 servings.
* We did meet eventually, and he was just as sweet, sensitive and quirky as he appeared to be at the game. Oh, and about a month later, he asked me to go out with him, and then he became my very first boyfriend. See? Sometimes, the underdog does get a break.
[Ooh, look at those widdy bits of black bean and sweet potato in there! Who could resist?]
Even as I slog through my pile of assignments and tests, I’ve been sneaking in here to read everyone’s comments, with much gratitude. Thanks so much for the “ooomph” I need to complete all this work, and your wonderful support! You are THE BEST.
And since my willpower for staying away from the blog is about as good as my willpower for staying away from chocolate, here I am again–but only today, and then it’s back to the books. Why am I popping in, you ask?
Well, since so many of you asked about these squares, it felt shameful to keep you waiting for a recipe that isn’t even mine! Those Sweet Potato, Quinoa and Black Bean Bites that people are drooling over (and which I ate for breakfast the other day, heated up–divine!), are an easy-peasy adaptation of this recipe.
I basically followed the recipe verbatim, though my version of breadcrumbs was a fresh piece of spelt sourdough bread ground up in the food processor (for gluten-free squares, use a piece of GF bread, or GF breadcrumbs). I also used organic ketchup rather than tomato paste, fresh cilantro, and omitted the caraway seeds. Other than that, I patted the mixture into a lightly greased 9 x 9 inch pan and let it bake until dry and firm on top. Cooled it completely, then cut into little squares, which I placed gingerly on a baking sheet and re-heated until the outsides were a bit crispy. Honestly, these are fantastic.
Now go enjoy some SPQandBB bites until I get back!
A bientôt,
xo Ricki 
[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. For this second entry, I'm focusing on Quinoa. The series is presented on an occasional (and entirely arbitrary) basis, before I move on to the next lucky comestible. This is the last entry on quinoa.]
The moment I decided to present a Lucky Comestible series about quinoa, I simultaneously decided I’d have to include at least one baked goodie. I know what you’re thinking: “Now, Ricki, haven’t you already included a recipe for said baked goodie? After all, you did post about Almond-Quinoa Muffins before the involuntary GBR, didn’t you?”
Why, yes! Yes, I did. However, technically speaking, muffins are a “baked good,” not a “baked goodie“–the latter term reserved for dessert-type treats, such as cakes, pies, cookies, tarts, or bars. I wanted to see if I couldn’t turn quinoa into something at least quasi cake-like, despite its elevated whole grain status–something worthy of the term, “dessert”–something that even skeptics like Johanna or Wendy (who mentioned on Johanna’s blog that quinoa reminds her of worms!) could enjoy.
So, even though personally, my favorite use of quinoa is as a base for salad (where its true essence can shine through), I let my mind wander back toward baking. And while so doing, I remembered that, in actuality, quinoa is not really a grain–it’s a seed related to beets and leafy greens such as spinach or chard. Well, okay, I’ve already used spinach in a previous baked goodie, so that didn’t deter me at all. And even if my quinoa creation didn’t turn out as decadent as a molten chocolate cake, I figured I could still whip up something with both a great nutritional profile AND a sweetness rating high enough to please the kids as an after-school snack, or to serve unexpected guests, with a steaming cup of green tea. (“And don’t forget, it’s also good enough as a special treat for your sweet and devoted Girls, Mum! We LOVE apple-quinoa cake. . .”)
Since we already had a bag of Macintosh apples withering away on the counter, I started there. I imagined that a lightly spiced batter would work well with the sturdy taste of quinoa, which can sometimes be a bit domineering in a crowd. For some reason (perhaps because quinoa itself is gluten-free), I decided the bars should also be celiac-friendly.
What I ended up with was a light and moist cake, studded with raisins and sunflower seeds alongside thin shreds of apple and grains of quinoa. The cake is slightly chewy, slightly crunchy, with a tender crumb and pleasing spice. And because it’s fashioned from leftovers of both quinoa and apple, I thought it would be a perfect submission to the Leftover Tuesdays event, hosted by Project Foodie.
“Mum, you disappoint us. Raisins? You know we can’t eat raisins. But maybe you could pick them out for us. . . ”
Apple-Quinoa Cake
Next time you cook up some quinoa and find yourself with leftovers, try this great snack cake. Without being excessively sweet and boasting sunflower seeds, two fruits and two whole grains, the cake is nutritious enough to eat for breakfast, though still light enough for dessert. The subtle apple and trio of spices is a tantalizing combination–you may have to stop yourself from having more than one piece!
2 whole medium apples, cored and coarsely grated (about 1 cup lightly packed or 200 g.)–I used Macintosh and left the skins on
1/2 cup (125 ml.) agave nectar
1/2 cup (125 ml.) sunflower or other light-tasting oil
2 cups (160 g.) cooked quinoa
2 tsp. (10 ml.) finely ground chia seeds*
2 tsp. (10 ml.) pure vanilla extract
1 tsp. (5 ml.) apple cider vinegar
1/4 cup (40 g.) sunflower seeds
1/4 cup (40 g. ) raisins
1-1/3 cups (160 g.) whole oat flour
1 tsp. (5 ml.) baking powder
1/2 tsp. (2.5 ml.) baking soda
1 tsp. (5 ml.) ground ginger
2 tsp. (10 ml.) ground cinnamon
1 tsp. (10 ml.) or less, to taste, cardamom
1/2 tsp. (2.5 ml.) sea salt
1/4 cup whole oats
Preheat oven to 350F (180C). Grease a 9″ square pan, or line with parchment paper.
In a medium bowl, mix the grated apple, agave nectar, oil, quinoa, Salba, vanilla, vinegar, sunflower seeds and raisins. Set aside.
In a large bowl, sift the flour, baking powder, soda, ginger, cinnamon, cardamon, and sea salt. Add the oats. Add the wet mixture to the dry and mix well.
Pour into prepared pan and smooth the top. Bake for 30-40 minutes, until a tester inserted in the center comes out clean. Allow to cool before cutting into slices.
Makes 9 breakfast servings or 12 dessert servings. Best eaten the day it’s made.
* If you don’t have or can’t find chia, you could try substituting 2 Tbsp. ground flax seeds; but the cake will probably be denser and heavier this way.
Other Posts in this Series:
Lucky Comestible II (1): Quinoa Salad with Buckwheat and Cranberries
Lucky Comestible II (2): Almond-Quinoa Muffins
Lucky Comestible II (3): Quinoa-Oatmeal Croquettes
Lucky Comestible II (4): Tagine of Quinoa with Chickpeas, Olives and Prunes
Other Quinoa Recipes:
(Got a quinoa recipe? Send me the link during this Lucky Comestible week, and I’ll add it to the list!)
It’s a truism when discussing the era of flower children and Woodstock to say, ”If you remember the ’60s, you probably weren’t there.” When it comes to the 1980s, however, those of us who lived through it are more likely to lament, ”I remember it all–if only I could forget!” Still, the Era of All Things Excessive (also known as the “Me” Decade) did have its touchstones.
Let’s see: if you (a) know what a “social X-Ray” refers to; (b) can name the performers who sang “Ebony and Ivory“; (c) own one of the original Cabbage Patch Dolls; (d) know where Expo ‘86 took place; and (e) have seen the only movie in which Julia Roberts was actually any good, then you, like I, were most likely cognizant of the 1980s–like it or not.
And yet, I can’t help but feel nostalgic for those times. I mean, how can anyone forget the heady 80s, with their typical Yuppie motto of ”More is More”? As a PhD student on her own in the Big City of Toronto, it was in the 80s that I finally became comfortable perceiving myself as an “adult.” Working as both a don in residence and a teaching assistant at university, I supported myself while studying and carrying on an active social life, as only someone in the early throes of adulthood can do. With a built-in social network (three of my close friends from childhood had already moved here years before) and PhD seminars filled with interesting new classmates (as well as the occasional crush), I was happy to spend my time memorizing Beowulf by day, then taking on the town by night.
80s urban professionals were regularly amused by showy sportscars, massive parties, both private and public (raves made their appearance in the 80s), big hair (remember Boy George?), big fashion (ah, yes, Amazonian shoulder pads) and even bigger earrings. I recall encountering a colleague in the hallway at work one day, feeling pretty snappy, bedecked as I was with a pair of my favorite gold-wire earrings. He took one glance my way and sniped, ”Wow, how’d you get those hamster wheels to stay attached to your earlobes?”.
Ah, yes, pretty much everything from the 1980s was excessive and self-indulgent. And the food? Oh, my, the food. . . .
The 1980s were epitomized by everything rich, from Gordon Gekko to Double-Chocolate-Hazelnut-Caramel-Cream Cheesecake. Foods were elaborate and multi-layered, and nobody ever worried about saturated fat, cream, too much red meat, organic, or whether the tiramisu was made with whole-grain ladyfingers. No one had ever heard of Omega 3s, let alone ingested them, and restaurants were just getting their fingers wet with the new food architecture that mandated aesthetics over taste. In those days, I’d spend hours cooking and baking for dinner parties, multiple courses and desserts that could, on their own, drain the stock of an entire dairy farm for a day.
One of the best-selling cookbooks of the time was The Silver Palate Cookbook, by Julee Rosso and Sheila Lukins. Two regular New York gals who’d made a name for themselves by operating one of the most successful little gourmet shops in the city’s history, these women finally collaborated on a cookbook and were instantly rewarded with an overwhelming, almost cult-like following.
Like most of my friends, I possess a well-worn copy of the maroon and white-covered tome, its edges fraying a little and pages splotched with grease stains. From the side, my book appears to have donned a jagged, fringed winter scarf, as little strips of sticky-notes, marking recipes I wished to try, peek out from almost every page. One in particular, Chicken Marbella, was cooked so many times that I had to replace the sticky note on more than one occasion.
Well, for some reason, while I lay supine in bed for ten days, my mind kept wandering back to that darned Chicken Marbella. Maybe I was a little delirious; maybe the muscle relaxants brought with them delusions of poultry; or maybe I was just ravenous since I couldn’t get up to feed myself, subsisting on the meager, dried-out muffin the HH left on the bed each morning before he trotted off to work. Whatever the catalyst, I craved that dish. So, as soon as I was up and about, I pulled out my trusty copy of The Silver Palate, and set about adapting.
The original recipe turned out to be slightly different from what I remembered (in my idealized version, it was aromatic with a variety of Moroccan spices, rather than the lone oregano it does contain), but it was still alluring. Certain that quinoa would partner perfectly with the other ingredients, and after a little tinkering, I came up with this recipe.
I must tell you, this was astonishingly good. Next time, I’ll begin with a little more quinoa and chickpeas, as the original marinade was aimed at 4 chickens (I’ve adjusted the recipe, below, accordingly). As in the original dish, the unconventional combination of baked prunes and olives is spectacular, and the quinoa provides a perfect base to soak up and then showcase the flavorful marinade. Even if you’re not normally a fan of prunes, I think you will enjoy them here.
I love this dish as a main course casserole, but the HH still yearns for the chicken and prefers this as a side dish. He ate it, sighing, wishing aloud that if only we’d met in the 1980s when I was still throwing elaborate dinner parties with dishes like Chicken Marbella or some excessively rich cheesecake, he could have sampled the “real” recipe.
But of course, that would never have happened. Even if, by some weird karmic commingling of our (then) diametrically opposed lifestyles, we had actually met back then, the HH would have taken one glance at my bouffant hairdo, while I took one glance at his erstwhile “business associates,” and we would both have run screaming in opposite directions. It wasn’t until the end of the 90s, after having both matured considerably, that fate ultimately brought us together with a coup de foudre. . . followed, inevitably, by our current calm, somewhat predictable, and rather domestic existence.
Amazing, isn’t it, what changes just one decade can bring?
With its fragrant oregano, olives, and prunes, this dish is my submission to Kalyn’s Weekend Herb Blogging, this week hosted by Jai and Bee of Jugalbandi.
Tagine of Quinoa with Chickpeas, Olives and Prunes
Adapted from this original recipe in The Silver Palate Cookbook
Slightly sweet, slightly salty, and warmly spiced, this dish is a delectable treat. Because it is rather rich and filling, if served as a main course, a simple, light salad would be the perfect accompaniment.
6 cloves garlic, minced
2 Tbsp. (30 ml.) dried oregano
1 tsp. (5 ml.) coriander
pinch cloves
3 Tbsp. (45 ml.) red wine vinegar
1 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil
3/4-1 cup (250 ml.) prunes, to your taste
1/2-3/4 cup mixed pitted olives, to your taste
3 Tbsp. (45 ml.) capers, with juice
3 bay leaves
1/3 cup (80 ml.) Sucanat or brown sugar
1/2 cup (125 ml.) white wine (I used an Australian Chardonnay)
2 cups (500 ml.) cooked chick peas (garbanzo beans)
1 cup (250 ml.) dry quinoa
1 cup vegetable broth or stock
1 cup water
Preheat oven to 325F (175 C). Grease a tagine (clay baking dish), a ceramic casserole, or rectangular cake pan.
Combine all ingredients in the casserole or pan, and cover. Bake in preheated oven for 40 minutes, then stir and check liquid levels. If the quinoa isn’t yet cooked and it looks like the liquid is almost completely absorbed, add another 1/2 cup water (I found that using more vegetable broth made the mixture too salty for my taste). Cover again and return to the oven for another 20 minutes.
Check again. Continue to add water, 1/4 cup at a time, baking for 10-minute intervals, until the quinoa is fully cooked and all liquid is absorbed. Serve hot. Makes 4 main servings or 6 side dish servings.
Other Posts in this Series:
Lucky Comestible II (1): Quinoa Salad with Buckwheat and Cranberries
Lucky Comestible II (2): Almond-Quinoa Muffins
Lucky Comestible II (3): Quinoa-Oatmeal Croquettes
Lucky Comestible II (5): Apple-Quinoa Cake
Other Quinoa Recipes:
(Got a quinoa recipe? Send me the link during this Lucky Comestible week, and I’ll add it to the list!)
[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. For this second entry, I'm focusing on Quinoa. The series is presented on an occasional (and entirely arbitrary) basis, before I move on to the next lucky comestible. ]
You guys are too funny!
I would never have guessed that my silly little comment about quotation marks at the end of yesterday’s post could spark so many witty comebacks. Well, quotation marks be damned! Now that I’m officially *back,* I’ll just have to reach waaaay %back % into my punctuation quiver and pick out a few other sharp marks and symbols. And so, right ++BACK++ at ya!
For now, though, I must hold myself >bAcK< and will no longer tap my spinal woes as a source of humor (though the original Spinal Tap, on the other hand, provides its own endless source of punny laughs). And now, let’s get back to today’s Lucky Comestible!
If you’ve read my blog for any length of time, you’re likely already familiar with my penchant for breakfast foods. The morning repast is, unequivocally, my favorite meal of the day. So how could I go through five different recipes featuring quinoa and NOT include at least one targeted breafast dish?
I’ve already covered a baked good with the Almond-Quinoa Muffins; today, I’ve repurposed Lisa’s amazing Quinoa and Oatmeal Croquettes recipe for a breakfasty-sweet usage rather than the delectable savory meal (smothered in a rich mushroom sauce) that she originally wrote about. Luckily, the recipe is super-easy and employs ingredients I already had on hand, so I was able to whip these up without having to head to the supermarket, which would have undoubtedly strained my finances patience relationship (Oh, just SAY IT:) BACK .
I’ve always thought of croquettes as somewhat pear-shaped orbs that sit under a thick slathering of creamy sauce. As a kid, my mom sometimes made chicken croquettes, which involved grinding, mixing, and shaping the mounds of seasoned chicken before rolling them in breadcrumbs and baking them, after which they were doused with à la King sauce (ie, canned cream of mushroom soup) that had a handful of frozen peas thrown in. Representative of the times, but hardly worth the effort, I always thought.
When I saw Lisa’s recipe, I was a little surprised at the form of these croquettes. Like that iconic fast-food hamburger, they were square rather than round; and like the proverbial bank heist-without-a-hitch, they were almost too easy: simply cook up, spread in pan, then cut into shape. I suppose I could have used a cookie cutter to approximate a rounded shape, but why bother? Who said croquettes have to be round, anyway?
What I like about these little darlings is that the quinoa is very evident–not a co-star, but the main attraction. The oats, while present, don’t really determine much of the overall flavor; rather, they seem to bind the croquettes together instead. The mixture reminded me very much of a polenta in texture and preparation; but the taste was, to my mind, very well suited to breakfast.
 And so, still limited by the few ingredients I actually had in the house after the GBR, I pulled out some homemade cranberry preserves as a topper and set about heating these in the griddle for breakfast. I was very well rewarded with a nubby-textured, moist and chewy croquette highlighted by the occasional crunch, courtesy of sesame seeds sprinkled over top. The slightly sweet, slightly tart jam was the perfect accompaniment. These would also be divine with maple syrup, I think. Oh, and mushroom sauce (as Lisa suggests) too, of course.
Quinoa-Oatmeal Croquettes
from Lisa’s Vegetarian Kitchen
Quick, hearty, and substantial, these are the perfect breakfast bites. If you’re in a hurry, you can even wrap them up and take them along. And, as Lisa suggests, they make a great base for a savory sauce, too.
1 cup dry quinoa
1 cup rolled or steel-cut oats (I used rolled oats)
3 cups water
1/4 tsp. sea salt
sesame seeds, as needed
olive oil, as needed
If desired, rinse the quinoa to remove the bitter outer resin (I didn’t bother, as I assume most quinoa these days is pre-rinsed; but if you want to be safe, go ahead). Place quinoa and oats in a glass casserole or pan along with the 3 cups water, cover, and soak overnight in the fridge.
The next day, grease a 9 x 9 inch square pan with olive oil or nonstick spray. Pour the mixture into a medium-sized pot and stir in the sea salt. Cook over medium heat, stirring frequently to prevent scorching, until it has the consistency of a thick porridge, about 25-30 minutes.
Pour the mixture into the prepared pan, smooth the top, and sprinkle with sesame seeds. Refrigerate at least 20 minutes, to let the mixture cool and firm up (I left it for about 4 hours). Cut the mixture in to cubes of desired size (I cut the contents of the pan into 20 small cubes).
Lightly oil a frying pan with the olive oil, and fry the cubes on both sides until golden brown and crispy on the outside. Transfer to a plate and serve with fruit preserves of your choice. Makes 4-5 servings. Will keep for 4 days, covered, in the fridge.
Other Posts in this Series:
Lucky Comestible II (1): Quinoa Salad with Buckwheat and Cranberries
Lucky Comestible II (2): Almond-Quinoa Muffins
Lucky Comestible II (3): Tagine of Quinoa with Chickpeas, Olives and Prunes
Lucky Comestible II (5): Apple-Quinoa Cake
Other Quinoa Recipes:
(Got a quinoa recipe? Send me the link during this Lucky Comestible week, and I’ll add it to the list!)
[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. For this second entry, I'm focusing on Quinoa. The series is presented on an occasional (and entirely arbitrary) basis, before I move on to the next lucky comestible. ]
Well. So. It snowed again yesterday. Actually, it stormed; we got about 5 cm. (2 inches) to add to the–what? 478 cm? 792 cm? 14 kilometers?–pre-existing snow already piled in mini-glaciers beside every driveway, walkway, sidewalk, and garage. And there I was, once again stuck in the house, avoiding the pelting flakes and ice pellets.
I imagine this is what it feels like to live in perma-frost, constantly surrounded by the white stuff with no end in sight. I feel exactly like Captain Robert Scott must have felt on one of his forays to the South Pole, holed up with his companions in his ice-shack as refuge against the elements. Just as he did in his famous diary, I could easily write an entry something like this:
Bitter storms accosted the crew today, forcing the team to head indoors. We huddle by the makeshift fire and attempt to warm our weary, frostbitten hands. Thrashing winds surround us at every turn. All but forsaken in this frigid terrain, we have but each other and the dogs for company. Poor mongrels, even they refuse to venture outdoors in this accursed weather. But tomorrow, if the winds permit, we shall harness them up and commence the hazardous trek anew. . . .
Okay, well, not exactly like Scott, as I’m actually writing on a computer, not by hand with pen and ink on paper in sub-zero weather. Oh, and I’m in a heated brick house in a modern city of 5 million people, not an ice shack. Oh, with electricity. And some organic, vegan spelt cranberry-pumpkin scones and a hot cup of mint tea beside me. And I’m not a couple thousand kilometers from the nearest sign of civilization.
But other than that, just like him.
What this blasted weather stirs up in me (besides the propensity to write like a 19th Century Antarctic explorer) is a longing for breakfast foods. Since my dad worked at his store 6 days a week, he was out of the house by 6:30 AM on Saturday mornings. During the winter, The CFO and I would fend for ourselves at breakfast and let our mom sleep in (once she returned to bed after making breakfast for our father).
Our self-sufficiency wasn’t exactly the most healthful (I seem to recall feasting on saltines, peanut butter, and chocolate milk as we watched Saturday-morning cartoons), but it was comfort food to us. These days, any breakfast fare spells comfort to me; when it’s cold outside, I want to eat pancakes, muffins, scones, omelettes, or even baked oats.
Well, these quinoa muffins, adapted from a recipe in Veganomicon, fit the bill perfectly. Hearty yet slightly sweet, filling yet not too heavy, they are satisfying and sufficient to warm the spirit and the belly. And full of nourishment for energy to brave the elements again, when you’re finally ready to lace up the sled dogs and hit the expedition once more.
(“Um, Mum, you’re not actually thinking of hooking us up to a sled, are you? Because, you know, it’s pretty cold out there, and our paws are rather delicate. . . we really hate getting them all full of ice and snow if we don’t absolutely have to.”)
Almond-Quinoa Muffins
Adapted from Veganomicon
I adapted these by using spelt flour and chopped dates, since I had no apricots on hand. These are dense and pleasantly chewy; the quinoa does make its presence known, however, so beware that you will taste it in the mix. I think these would be outstanding with the suggested apricots as well.
1 cup vanilla soymilk
1 Tbsp. ground flaxseeds
1/4 cup sunflower or other light-tasting oil
1/4 cup agave nectar or pure maple syrup
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1 cup light spelt flour
1/3 cup whole barley flour
1/4 cup almond meal or almond flour
1/2 tsp. baking soda
2 tsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp. sea salt
1 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp. ground cardamom
1-1/4 cups cooked quinoa
1/2 cup finely chopped dates
Preheat the oven to 350F (180 C) and lightly grease 12 muffins cups, or line with paper liners.
In a medium-sized bowl, whisk together the soymilk and flax; allow to sit for one minute, then whisk in the oil, agave, and vanilla.
In a separate large bowl, sift together the flour, almond meal, baking soda, baking powder, salt, and spices. Add the wet ingredients to the dry, mixing until just incorporated. Gently fold in the cooked quinoa and the apricots and mix until only the large lumps are gone.
Pour into the prepared muffins tins, filling about 3/4 full, and bake for 20 to 22 minutes until a tester inserted into the center of a muffin comes out clean. May be frozen.
Other Posts in this Series:
Lucky Comestible II (1): Quinoa Salad with Buckwheat and Cranberries
Lucky Comestible II (3): Quinoa-Oatmeal Croquettes
Lucky Comestible II (4): Tagine of Quinoa with Chickpeas, Olives and Prunes
Lucky Comestible II (5): Apple Quinoa Cake
Other Quinoa Recipes:
(Got a quinoa recipe? Send me the link during this Lucky Comestible week, and I’ll add it to the list!)
|
|
