Can it really be the last weekend of the YEAR?! After last’s week’s Holiday Edition, I’m pleased to present you with our final Wellness Weekend event–the one that spans right into 2012!
And so, as we make our way out of 2011 (in our case, blanketed in snow, which arrived yesterday–sniff, boo hoo!), I wish you all a stellar end to the year. I can’t tell you all how much I appreciate your support each week, not only for this event (and I’m thrilled with the great response to it so far!), but for DDD in general, its recipes, ACD-related information, and, of course, The Girls’ musings.
I love hearing from you, whether in comments, by email, on Facebook, twitter or Pinterest–so please keep those comments, questions and reactions coming! I can’t wait to see what 2012 holds for all of us.
Here’s to another year together on DDD!
Hugs,
Ricki xo
And now, for last week’s highlighted recipes. . . .based on the theme, “made for sharing”:
Celery and Chestnut Soup from Green Gourmet Giraffe. I was never a fan of chestnuts until I made my own soup with them last year–and now this soup sounds totally dreamy to me!
Readers’ Choice, Sweet: Healthy Chocolate Truffles from Healthy Kitschy Vegan. With over 120 clicks on the linky, Danni’s easy raw truffles were clearly your top choice in this category last week!
Thank you to every one of you who played along by submitting your recipes! I love seeing what you all make each week. I always look forward to seeing what you’ll come up with!
Please join us for Wellness Weekend this weekend! There are so many options for healthy foods. . . whether or not you’re vegan, remember that many salads, veggie side dishes, pasta dishes, desserts, smoothies, and more are naturally vegan and can all be included!
Here’s How to Participate (PLEASE READ THESE GUIDELINES CAREFULLY BEFORE LINKING UP!):
The event occurs once a week, starting Thursdays at 8:00 PM my time and running until Monday at midnight.
Simply link up a recipe you made (and posted about) within the past week that contains health-supporting ingredients (see list below). Use the Linky Tool at the bottom of the page. Please do not link more than once to the same web page!
Please link the post with your recipe, NOT your blog’s home page. The post must contain a recipe.
You may submit more than one recipe, but please follow the guidelines for each one individually. ONLY ONE THUMBNAIL PER POST, PLEASE.
Please be sure to mention this event and include a link back to this post so that others can find all the recipes posted!
Feel free to use the blog badge, above (or see the left sidebar of this page–if you need the html code, let me know and I’ll send it to you). Many thanks to Adrienne of Whole New Mom for setting up the badge code for me!
As always, I hate to remove links, but will do so if they don’t comply with the guidelines.
What your recipe CAN contain:
Any good-for-you, whole foods, especially those with antioxidant properties or “functional foods” (ie, offering naturally medicinal or health-promoting qualities–such as garlic, coconut oil, all vegetables, fruits, herbs, etc.)–but any fresh, real food is welcome!
Natural sweeteners (coconut sugar, agave, brown rice syrup, maple syrup, stevia, Sucanat, rapadura, coconut nectar, yacon syrup, etc.)
Vegan ingredients (even if you’re not vegan, OF COURSE you can still play along! You’ll be surprised at how many foods are naturally vegan; and if not, there are many subs you can use for eggs, milk or butter–include vegan options and we’re good to go!).
Note that this is NOT AN ACD-ONLY EVENT. Any real food ingredients that are sugar-free and vegan are more than welcome–so use that maple syrup, those mushrooms, that nutritional yeast, miso, etc! I’m just looking for healthy, whole foods recipes.
What your recipe cannot contain:
White flour, white sugar, or any highly refined, highly processed ingredients (note that regular brown sugar is actually refined!);
Anything almost entirely artificial (ie, most boxed mixes, fast food, faux “cheese,” faux “meat,” or margarine, unnaturally colored cereals or other foods, etc.);
Animal products (meat, chicken, fish or seafood, or their by-products, gelatin, eggs, dairy, butter or honey).
“Hey! Why was my entry removed?”
The most common reason entries are removed is because they don’t adhere to the guidelines:either they don’t contain a link back to this post, they contain ingredients that aren’t listed here, they are a re-post of a blog entry that is more than one week old, or they contain neither a recipe nor anything directly related to food preparation. If you render a recipe vegan-friendly by adding a vegan option to your ingredients, your post will be good to go! For older posts, you’re welcome to re-post them during the week of the event, or choose a newer recipe.
Another reason posts are removed is because the link leads to an advertisement or a business blog. Please do NOT link up posts that are merely referrals to a different post or the home page for another blog event.
Only one thumbnail per post, please. If your post contains two suitable recipes, link up once and people will still see all your fabulous recipes when they click on the linky.
I hate to have to remove links! PLEASE read the guidelines before posting!
NOTE: A few of you have mentioned problems linking up in the past couple of weeks because of the backlink requirement. If the linky won’t work for you, please let me know so I can tell the Linky Tools owner and the problem can be fixed!
Welcome to Week 4 of A Gluten-Free Holiday, the blog event created by Amy to share gluten-free recipes throughout the holiday period this year! After a little break for American Thanksgiving last week, we’re back today with Holiday Entrées and Sides (which I’m interpreting to include soups as well), hosted by Hallie at Daily Bites. Before I get to today’s recipe, however, let me tell you about the book that Hallie is giving away:
The Pure Kitchenis Hallie’s recently-released cookbook filled with recipes made from real, natural, whole foods! All the recipes are free of gluten and dairy, and many are also vegan. I tested out the Moroccan Millet and Butternut Squash Pilaf (which I wrote about here), and was entirely impressed! To enter the giveaway, skip over to Hallie’s blog and leave a comment or link up your own recipe for a holiday side or entrée!
* * * * * * * *
Before I met the HH, he was a culinary vagabond, a peripatetic bon vivant who spent his evenings wandering from one acclaimed restaurant to the next. The HH, you see, ate almost all of his meals in restaurants in the days before our romance blossomed in the late 1990s (and I’ve written before how he once lived for two years in an apartment and turned the stove on exactly once.). As soon as he acquired his first paying job, he sought out the food of professional chefs daily (apparently Mum’s cooking wasn’t exactly all that enticing). By the time he reached his mid-20s, the HH had dined at every upscale eatery in the city and was a “regular” at hot spots like Bemelman’s, Le Trou Normand, the Courtyard Café or Joe Allen. His favorite meals consisted of thick, full-cream sauces atop butter-basted scallops; juicy pan-fried shrimp; or, as often as possible, near-blue filet mignon. (I know, it’s a miracle we two ever got together, isn’t it?).
Despite his gourmet palate, the HH’s salary was that of any other regular twenty-something, which meant that these gastronomic adventures often consumed most, if not all, of his weekly income. Given the choice between fine dining and new shoes, the HH invariably chose to endure wet feet in the rain. In fact, he was probably the only “regular” patron whose shoes were more worn than those of the wait staff!
These days, with his restaurant ramblings severely restricted (even if we could afford to dine out more often, there are precious few places that can accommodate my bizarre dietary restrictions), the HH sometimes reminisces about those halycon days when all the food he ate took a full day to prepare and was cooked by someone else. Once in a while, he asks whether I might be able to re-create one of those long-ago favorites. As a result, I spent one summer blending at least a dozen different takes on gazpacho; I’ve also toyed with endless variations on coconut cream pie.
One of my honey’s most-requested recipes is vichychoisse. Myself, I’m not a huge fan (in my mind, cold potatoes belong huddled in big chunks in a large bowl, swathed in may0-based dressing with dill and some green peas for your summertime family BBQ, thank you very much), but I did think that a warmed version would be lovely.
I subscribe to the McDougall e-newletter and always browse the recipe section with great anticipation. Their newsletter provided the basis for one of my all-time favorite sides, the Crazy Simple Kale Salad. Their most recent publication didn’t disappoint, either: there, tucked between Mashed Potato with Carrot and Chilled Melon Soup, was a recipe for an unusual potato soup. What made this one different? A secret ingredient that rendered it both substantial and silky.
I couldn’t resist, of course. I took the idea and ran cooked with it. I created my own version of a healthier vichyssoise, one that gains its luxurious texture from a surprising addition–oats. When I served up a bowl of the soup, I didn’t tell the HH about the secret ingredient (he’s kind of getting used to foods that aren’t what they appear to be). He slid the spoon into the plush, velvety base and then into his mouth. He seemed to contemplate the soup for a moment, shutting his eyes and pursing his lips. Then he smiled and nodded.
“Mmmm, yes, this is great,” he finally said. “You know, I bet you could serve this soup in a fine vegan restaurant!”
Did you hear that? That’s how far my sweetie has come–from Coquilles St. Jacque at Le Trou Normand to Vegan Leek and Potato Soup at Chez DDD–and the first restaurant that popped into his mind was a vegan one!
Well, it may not be classic vichyssoise, but this soup has quickly become one of the HH’s favorites. If you’re looking for a smooth, luscious first course for a holiday meal–and a restaurant-worthy one at that–do give it a try.
Previous posts in this Gluten-Free Holiday series include:
And next week, I’ll be hosting with a new giveaway and a Holiday Breakfast and Brunch recipe!
Don’t forget to pop over to Hallie’s blog if you’d like to enter the giveaway!
“Hey, Mum, you know that we can be peripatetic, too, right? And we can do it on eight legs! Oh, and if Dad’s not going to be eating that filet mignon any more, I think we might be able to help. . . . ”
A terrifically easy soup that combines the nutritional value of potatoes with the additional B vitamins of oats. The texture will have you thinking there’s cream in the soup–all without any cholesterol at all.
2 large leeks, white and light green parts only, chopped
4 cloves garlic, chopped
1 Tbsp (15 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
5 large white or yellow potatoes, peeled and cut in chunks
4 cups (1 liter) vegetable broth or stock
1/3 cup (80 ml) old-fashioned rolled oats (not instant or quick-cook)
fine sea salt, to taste
2 cups (480 ml) unsweetened almond, soy or hemp milk
In a large pot or dutch oven, heat the oil over medium heat. Add the leeks and garlic and sauté until the leeks are translucent, 5-8 minutes.
Add the remaining ingredients except the almond milk and increase the heat to medium high. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat to a simmer, cover, and cook until the potatoes are very tender, 20-25 minutes. Stir in the almond milk. Allow to cool for about 5 minutes.
Purée the mixture with a hand blender or in a regular blender or food processor, in batches if necessary (take care not to burn yourself on the hot soup!). Return the mixture to the pot and heat over low heat until warmed through. Serve with crusty bread. Makes 6-8 servings. May be frozen (defrost overnight in the refrigerator, then heat gently before serving).
In addition to this event, I’m also posting this recipe at Amy’s Slightly Indulgent Tuesday, for a double whammy!
Last Year at this Time: Zucchini Fritters (and a bunch of other chat–gluten free; ACD All Stages)
[Hearty, slurpy, stick-to-your-ribs Lentil and Almond Tagine]
Up until last month, the only tagine I had ever eaten were this one ** or one at a small Middle Eastern restaurant that the HH and I went to in the early days of our relationship. But then I was contacted by the lovely Martine from Robert Rose publishers, wondering if I’d like to review Pat Crocker’s latest oeuvre, 150 Best Tagine Recipes, and the amazing world of tagines opened up for me.
If you’ve never heard of tagines, you’re in for a treat. The word tagine refers both to the Moroccan clay pot used for slow-cooking a meal or side dish, and also the very meal or side dish that results (don’t you just love the efficiency of those Moroccans?). The (edible) tagine is a thick, rich, slowly-simmered kind of stew that can contain almost any ingredients you fancy, from meat (um, nope) to poultry (nada) to seafood (nuh-uh) to legumes (getting warmer) and all manner of vegetables (jackpot!). It’s also always deeply spiced with a mixture of aromatic blends with African influences. . . Think of it, as Jamie Oliver does, as “stew with attitude.”
At first, I was a little concerned that (given the traditional tagine ingredients) I wouldn’t find much in the book I could cook. But I was assured that the vegetable chapter would provide me with ample choice.
Turns out that was only partly true. There are 16 vegetable tagine recipes in the book; however, considering that there are also full chapters devoted to each of poultry, lamb, beef, and fish/seafood, I’m not sure I’d purchase the book if I were simply browsing in a bookstore looking for a new vegan cookbook. After all, there are so many other wonderful vegan cookbooks on the market right now (in fact, my next book review is going to focus on one of them!). That said, however, the book also contains quite a few recipes for salad and sides, dips and other finger foods as well as beverages and sweets; and it has tons to offer for gluten-free eaters, as tagines are naturally gluten free.
Chapter topics move from a general introduction to a detailed explanation of the concept of tagine cooking, its history and traditional equipment used, to the evolution of the modern (and stovetop) tagine. Crocker also covers information about traditional spices and seasonings used, common ingredients, and traditional spice blends (for which she includes recipes).
Because I don’t own a traditional tagine, I opted to cook the first recipe I sampled using the stovetop method described in the book (basically cooking the ingredients in a large pot with a lid). While it worked just fine, I wondered if I were somehow missing out on the true intent of the recipes, as the cooking time for stovetop preparation was under 30 minutes, when true tagine cooking can take hours. So, for my second attempt, I popped the ingredients into a casserole and baked at a leisurely pace. The result was spectacular: flavors melded beautifully, spices developed their full potential, chunks of veggies caramelized and exuded natural juices to season the entire stew.
When you make these recipes at home, I’d recommend baking in the oven rather than cooking on the stovetop if you have the time (unless you own a stovetop tagine, of course).
And so, on to the recipes!
The first recipe I tried was Lentil and Almond Tagine (see top photo), an aromatic mix of red peppers, lentils, tomatoes and toasted almonds. Both the HH and I loved the Bahrat Spice blend that was included (recipe from the book) and the hearty mix of toothsome lentils with soft, sweet squash.
Next up was the Eggplant and Lentil Tagine, which I decided to bake in the oven to reproduce more of an authentic tagine effect. I used store-bought garam masala for this spice mix (one of the suggested options) and while it was delicious, both the HH and I thought the casserole could have used even more spice.
[Subtly spiced Eggplant and Lentil Tagine]
Finally, I tried out a side-dish tagine, which may actually have been my favorite of the three. As you may know, I already love beets; but this is one dish that anyone can enjoy. As the headnote to the recipe states: “Slightly sweet, this colorful side dish tagine is often enjoyed by ardent beet haters.” That’s quite a confident statement, and one with which I’d concur! The spiced, sweet-and-sour broth is a perfect medium for the delectable roots. This tagine also offers the surprise tartness of green apples (which, by the time I snapped the picture, had absorbed the vibrant fuschia of the beets). And it even included some sliced fennel–the only way I’ve ever loved that veggie!
[My favorite, Beet Tagine--it will make a convert of you!]
Want to Try Tagines? Win a Copy for Yourself!
If you’re already a fan of tagines or just curious to give them a try, the kind folks at Robert Rose are offering a free copy to a DDD reader!
How to Enter: Entering the giveaway couldn’t be easier: just leave a comment here telling me whether you’ve ever tried a tagine (and if so, how you liked it) OR what about a tagine appeals to you.
Second and subsequent entries: you can gain extra entries by subscribing to this blog, following DDD on Facebook, following me on twitter, posting about this on your own blog or Facebook page, tweeting about it (be sure to include @rickiheller in the tweet so I see it), or checking out the Pat Crocker page from Robert Rose and telling me which of her other books you think you’d enjoy.
For each additional entry, please be sure to come back here and leave a comment telling me you did so!
The giveaway will run until midnight my time this Wednesday, November 30th. I’ll announce the winners later in the week. Open to anyone in North America (with huge apologies to my international readers!).
To get you in the mood, here’s a recipe from the book (which you can enjoy wherever you are).
A great stew for a winter’s evening, the combination of lentils, sweet potato and peppers in a rich and spicy tomato sauce is sure to warm you against the season’s chill!
1 fresh hot chile pepper, chopped (I used jalapeno)
1/2 red bell pepper, chopped
1 Tbsp (15 ml) sweet paprika
2 tsp (10 ml) Bahrat Spice Blend (see below)
1 cup yellow, red or brown lentils, rinsed (I used brown)
1 can (19 oz/540 ml) diced tomatoes, with juice
2 cups (500 ml) diced pumpkin or squash (I used butternut squash)
1/4 cup (60 ml) ground almonds
2 cups (500 ml) shredded swiss chard (I included stems)
1/2 cup (125 ml) toasted whole almonds
In the bottom of a flameproof tagine (or dutch oven), heat oil over medium heat. Add onions, chile pepper, bell pepper, paprika and spice blend and cook, stirring, for 5 minutes. [Note: I found the mixture really stuck to the bottom of the pan this way; I deglazed with a splash of vegetable broth.] Add lentils and cook, stirring for 2 minutes. Add tomatoes with juice and bring to a boil.
Cover with tagine lid, reduce heat to low and simmer for 20 minutes or until lentils are tender. Add pumpkin and ground almonds, replace lid and simmer for 15 minutes. Stir in Swiss chard, replace lid and simmer for 5 minutes or until greens are wilted and pumpkin is tender. Garnish with whole almonds.
Makes 4 servings. May be frozen.
Bahrat Spice Blend:
2 Tbsp (30 ml) coriander seeds
4 tsp (20 ml) cumin seeds
1 piece (1 inch/2.5 cm) cinnamon, crushed
5 whole cloves
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) cardomom seeds
2 Tbsp (30 ml) paprika
1 tsp ground sumac, optional (I left it out)
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) ground nutmeg
In the bottom of a small tagine or frypan, combine the coriander, cumin, cinnamon, cloves and cardamom. Toast over medium heat, stirring frequently, for 3 to 4 minutes or until lightly colored and fragrant. Remove from diret heat just as the seeds pop; do not let the spices smoke and burn.
In a mortar and pestle or electric grinder, pound or grind the toasted spices until coarse or finely ground. Transfer to a bowl and stir in the paprika, sumac (if using) and nutmeg.
Store in an airtight (preferably dark) glass jar with lid in a cool place for up to 3 months. Makes 1/4 cup (60 ml).
**Thanks to Johanna for reminding me about the olive-quinoa one! Since I can’t eat most of the ingredients in it any more, I must have wiped it from my memory.
Last Year at this Time: Borscht to Beet Stress (gluten free; ACD All Stages)
One of the things I admire about my dad is that he speaks something like eight languages. Having been born in Poland, he grew up in a milieu that encouraged multilingualism simply because of its promximity to so many other countries. Later, he lived in Russia and adopted their tongue; then he moved to Canada where he acquired English; and subsequently opened a butcher shop* in a multicultural Montreal neighborhood where he picked up French, Italian and Greek.
Makes me feel rather limited with my paltry English, French and reading knowledge of German (but let’s not forget that I once memorized Beowulf in its entirety, in the original Old English). The feeling is compounded every time I glance down the hallways of the college where I teach and see students who hail from virtually every country on the planet. The ambient noise as you stroll from classroom to cafeteria could rival that at the original construction site at Babel any day.
Despite not being able to speak many other languages, I do enjoy picking up other vocabularies. In fact, one way to deal with a narrow linguistic repertoire is to drop key words and phrases from other lexicons into your daily conversation. Just say them with conviction, and everyone will think you know what they mean. For instance, I can vividly recall one fellow student in the PhD program when I was at U of T (let’s call him “A. Fected”) who’d constantly use words that sounded foreign, even though in retrospect, I’ve come to believe he had no idea what most of them meant.
Mr. Fected was over 6 feet tall, with greasy black hair that stood out in jagged points like an unruly cactus. His sweaters were always a tad too tight, the sleeves a tad too short, his ego a tad too inflated. He’d saunter around the department with his trademark houndstooth woolen scarf tossed across his shoulders like Cinerella’s cape, blathering to anyone in earshot (which usually meant the poor secretary, who was too polite to kick him out of her office).
“Ah, now you see, Ricki, that blouse of yours is very outré,” he’d pontificate, gesturing with long, bony fingers, the fingernails bitten jagged. “And did you read that excerpt from Foucault last week? Elicited a bit of schadenfreud, wouldn’t you say? Then again, we are all revelers manqué in professor Drivel’s class, aren’t we? Well, you know what they say! In vino veritas! Capiche? “
Eventually, I learned to just smile beningnly and move along. It took me years to realize that he had no idea what he was talking about, either.
I’ve found that the world of food not only allows for, but encourages appropriating terms from other languages, many that contribute to the overall enjoyment and gratificaton of cooking. For instance, don’t you love making a roux? To me, it sounds like a nickname (à la George Carlin‘s “doesn’t even belong on the list”): Oh, my leetle Roux, you are so cute! I just want to pinch your leetle cheeks, my sweet Cabbage-Roux! Come live with me, my Roux, and be my love. . . ” etc. Or how about Jerry and George waxing enthusiastic over the word, “Salsa”? Myself, I’ve always liked the word muesli, even though I don’t eat the stuff. Brings to mind a very smart person deep in thought: “Let me just muesli on it for a bit.” Then there’s chiffonade; sounds like something you’d wear to a very fancy dinner party. And al dente is much more appealing than ”slightly undercooked,” isn’t it?
I could go on. . . . (but lucky for you, I won’t).
Well, as of this week,pilafhas joined my list of favorite exotic culinary terms.
Used to be, the word pilaf brought to mind all things Parisian (or sang-froid, as the French themselves might say). It reminded me of the upper-crust Français, the ones who have servants bringing their food to the table when summoned by a little bell. Maybe because it evokes thoughts of Edith Piaf, but the word pilaf sounds to me so very, very French, doesn’t it? In reality, pilaf is nothing of the sort: it’s one of the homiest, most comforting and universally appealing dishes you could imagine. These days, pilafs are prepared with just about any array of ingredients and spices from countries all over the globe.
Last week, I cooked up a fabulous Moroccan-inspired millet and butternut squash pilaf from my friend Hallie’s new cookbook, The Pure Kitchen. Are you acquainted with Hallie and her blog, Daily Bites? At once formidable and adorable, Hallie is a powerhouse in a petite package. She cooks up beautiful, healthy, natural foods that will appeal to pretty much everyone. With the publication of her book, she’s stepped into the cookbook arena, and I think she’s poised to take that world by storm.
This recipe combines our quintessential autumn veggie, butternut squash, with a host of African spices and what I consider to be an underappreciated grain, millet. The only grain known to be alkalizing in the body (which is what you want for optimum balance and immunity), millet is neutral tasting and pairs well with almost anything, sweet or savory.
When I first mixed up the pilaf, I must admit I thought it might require more spice (we tend to like a lot of spice in the DDD household), but after cooking it up and having it for lunch, I found myself returning to the pot again and again for a little nosh, before I finally packed it up and froze the leftovers to prevent myself from consuming the entire batch. It was perfect, just the way it was. I’d say the combination of creamy, sweet squash with the firm bite of the millet, the salty brine of the olives and the intermittently sweet and chewy raisins offers up a lovely and irresistible mix–for lunch, a holiday side dish, or any time.
And really, there’s nothing to match eating flavorful, satisfying, healthy food–in any language. Capiche?
*If you haven’t read this before, yes, my dad owned a butcher shop, which means I grew up eating meat every day. And yes, I now eat a vegan diet. Irony, much?
Moroccan Millet & Butternut Squash Pilaf (suitable for ACD Stage 3 and beyond*)
This hearty whole grain pilaf makes a flavorful side dish to a festive autumn or winter meal [or, in my case, accompanied by salad for a full lunch]. If butternut squash is unavailable, try using another sweet winter squash or sweet potatoes instead.
1 medium butternut squash, peeled, seeded, and cut into 1-inch (2.5 cm) cubes
2 Tbsp (30 ml) extra virgin olive oil, divided
1/4 tsp (1 ml) fine sea salt, or more, to taste
1/2 medium yellow onion, finely chopped (I used a red onion as that’s all I had on hand–worked just fine)
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 tsp (5 ml) brown mustard seeds
1 tsp (5 ml) ground cumin
1 tsp (5 ml) curry powder
1 cup (200 g) millet, rinsed and drained
2-1/4 cups (300 ml) water (I used half water and half veg broth)
1/4 cup (60 ml) dried currants (for ACD, omit, or use homemade dried cranberries)
1/4 cup (60 ml) pitted green olives, chopped
1/4 cup (60 ml) finely chopped flat leaf parsley
Preheat oven to 400F (200 C). On a rimmed baking sheet, toss the squash cubes with 1 Tbsp (15 ml) of the olive oil and 1/4 tsp (1 ml) salt. Roast for 20-30 minutes until tender and brown in spots.
Meanwhile, heat th remaining Tbsp (15 ml) oil in a medium ot over medium-low heat. Add the onion, garlic and mustard seeds. Cook, stirring often, until the onion is soft and translucent, 3-5 minutes. Add the cumin, curry powder and millet. Stir for one minute. Add the water. Increase heat to high and bring to a boil. Cover, reduce the heat to low, and simmer until the water is absorbed and millet is fluffy, 25-30 minutes.
Using a fork, fluff up the millet and mix in the currants, olives and parsley. Gently stir in the squash and season the pilaf to taste with salt before serving. Makes 4 servings. May be frozen.
Now, since Canadian Thanksgiving occurred a month ago, many of you have already encountered my own list of favorite Thanksgiving recipes that I posted here (and please do feel free to use them for your American Thanksgiving, too!). Personally, I’m not averse to celebrating twice. So let’s get to it!
I was chatting yesterday with some online buddies about Canadian-vs-American Thanksgiving (I’d say the tacit consensus was that Americans make more of a fuss about it) and I admitted that, in the home of my childhood, we never actually celebrated T-Day. My memory about it is fuzzy (who am I kidding? My memory about everything is fuzzy these days), but I think the first traditional Thanksgiving celebration I attended was at the home of my first boyfriend’s mum.
I was madly in love with Spaghetti Ears and adored his mother, an Irishwoman who had been widowed at a young age and lived on her own in a little bungalow across town from the university. She was a pixieish woman, perpertually smiling, her dancing blue eyes flitting about the dinner table as she regaled us with stories of her Irish relatives and friends. Her cheeks were permanently flushed pink and her bobbed gray hair, normally hugging her head like a shawl, would swing back and forth as she reached across the table to pass bread or pat my hand. She also made the most delicious curried beef I had ever tasted (okay, so it was the only curried beef I had ever tasted). And I still possess–and use–the hand-knit tea cozy she gave me for Christmas almost 30 years ago, its red and green woolen stripes just as vibrant today as they were back then. I was honored to be invited to her holiday celebration!
Although I loved the idea behind the Thanksgiving feast (and the feast itself) from the first time I experienced it, the cranberry sauce was one aspect I just couldn’t rally behind. I always found it far too sweet for my taste; in fact, canned cranberry sauce is the reason I thought I didn’t like cranberries for many years. Last year, I decided to combine the crimson berries with some stewed apples for a stellar Cranberry Apple Compote, which I was happy to eat alongside nut roast or on toast, and the HH was delighted to enjoy with his turkey. This year, I opted for something a little different:
Today’s recipe comes courtesy of our organic produce delivery, which arrives like clockwork every week ,whether or not I’ve finished up the previous week’s fruits and veggies. As has happened in the past, I left some plums in their paper bag to languish on the counter, unnoticed until it was almost too late to save them.
I decided to combine the soft, squishy plums with their hardier, tarter cousins, and cooked up a quick Plumberry Compote. It offered up the perfect mix of tangy, sweet, and spreadable, with a deep magenta hue and gemlike brilliance.
[How I freeze my plumberry sauce. . . no, the color in the photo isn't off--this pic is frozen apricot spread.]
I hope you give this unconventional cranberry sauce a try. The flavors work beautifully in tandem to offer up a thick sauce that is nearly sweet enough even on its own, without added stevia. It’s also tasty enough to use as jam on toast–something traditional cranberry sauce can’t quite match, which means that leftovers will actually get used! It’s quickly become a favorite condiment here, as it can be used by the HH on his Thanksgiving turkey (that is, if he had had turkey this year), can be spread on some savory nut roast, can double as a chutney with a nice Indian curry, or can be used in lieu of maple syrup on a stack of pancakes or a breakfast bake (as in the photo above).
Yep–it’s time to forge a new tradition, I say!
And don’t forget about the fabulous giveaway this week!
Kim is giving away a copy of Laura Russell’s Gluten Free Asian Kitchen. Just head over to her blog to enter! Here’s a list of the other bloggers who are participating in the event as well:
And my post on Dateless Date Squares from last week, click here.
[A new favorite--breakfast bake topped with Plumberry Sauce and chocolate almond butter.]
Plumberry Sauce or Jam (Suitable for ACD Stage 2 and Beyond)
This sauce is so easy to make, it’s almost embarassing to write it out as a recipe. Freeze any leftovers in silicone muffin tins, then pop out and store in plastic bags in the freezer, for up to 3 months.
6-7 small, ripe black plums, pitted (leave the skins on)
20-30 drops plain or vanilla stevia liquid, to your taste
In a small food processor or blender, purée the plums. Transfer to a medium pot and add the remaining ingredients except stevia.
Cook, stirring frequently, until desired thickness is reached and most of the cranberries have popped (if you have a splatter screen, this is a good time to use it. Otherwise, place a lid on the pot with just a crack open to let the steam escape. That way, you’ll avoid speckling your stovetop and any other surface within sight).
Once the desired thickness is achieved, add the stevia and stir well. Pour into a clean glass jar or container and store in the refrigerator for up to 10 days. Alternately, freeze in silicone muffin cups, then pop out of the cups and keep frozen in a plastic bag or freezer container for up to 3 months. Makes about 2 cups (480 ml).
This month’s featured ingredient is one that Kim and I both adore. Although they’re a bit of a paleface compared to many other antioxidant-rich vegetables, they offer lots of great nutritional value as well as deep, succulent flavor. They may at first appear like off-white carrots, but this month’s veggie offers its own unique, healthy and delicious properties. We’re talking about–
They may look like albino carrots, but the gnarly parsnip, native to Asia and Europe, provides many health benefits. One of the less-lauded root veggies, parsnips appear to be paler carrots with somewhat bumpy exteriors and a light yellow or off-white flesh inside. Their flavor has been described as alternately nutty, sweet, or peppery; I also find them somewhat earthy. Because of their high starch content, they brown and caramelize well when roasted, releasing natural sugars for a mild, sweet flavor.
Known as a biannual plant, the flowers blossom from June until August, though only the roots are consumed (unlike carrots, the tops of which can be eaten). [source] Interestingly, parsnips aren’t grown in warmer climates because they require frost to develop their flavor (one reason they’re so abundant where Kim and I live, I guess!) [source]
Health Benefits of Parsnips
While parsnips are a white root vegetable like potatoes, there are some significant differences between the two. Parsnips contain lower levels of protein and vitamin C than spuds, but they do provide more fiber. And parsnips contain a host of nutrients, offering an excellent source of vitamin C, fiber, folic acid, pantothenic acid, copper, and manganese. They also contain good amounts of niacin, thiamine, magnesium, and potassium. [source]
In fact, some sources suggest that parsnips can be used to help regulate bowel movements and to keep the liver healthy. [source]
When choosing your parsnips, look for cream or lightly tan exteriors, with a skin as smooth as possible. The smaller roots are the more tender ones; the larger roots tend to become woody.
Parsnips should be peeled unless they’re organic (in which case, wash well and scrub away any visible dirt before cutting and cooking). Some sources suggest that parsnips should never be eaten raw, but this is a fallacy; it’s just fine to eat them that way! Use them to replace some or all of your potatoes in a mash; chop or grate and include in soups, stews or pasta sauces; roast on their own or in root vegetable fries; or mix up with your favorite carrot cake recipe, substituting parsnips for some or all of the carrot. The possibilites are endless!
Now, it’s time for you to show us what YOU can do with parsnips! You have until the end of the month to link up your favorite parsnip-based recipes.
To participate, please adhere to the following guidelines. We hate to remove entries, so PLEASE READ THE GUIDELINES CAREFULLY BEFORE LINKING UP!
Cook up a recipe–whether yours or someone else’s with credit to them–using parsnips.
Your recipe must be made for this event, within the month of the challenge–sorry, no old posts are accepted. Then, post the recipe to your blog (if you don’t have a blog, see instructions below).
Be sure to mention the event on your post and link to the current SOS page so that everyone can find the collection of recipes. Then, link up the recipe using the linky tool below.
As a general rule, please use mostly whole foods ingredients (minimally processed with no artificial flavors, colors, prepackaged sauces, etc.). For example, whole grains and whole grain flours; no refined white flours or sugar (but either glutenous OR gluten-free flours are fine).
Please ensure that recipes are veganor include a vegan alternative (no animal products such as meat, fish, chicken, milk, yogurt, eggs, honey).
Please use natural sweeteners (no white sugar, nothing that requires a laboratory to create–such as splenda, aspartame, xylitol, etc.). Instead, try maple syrup, agave nectar, brown rice syrup, coconut sugar, dates, yacon syrup, Sucanat, stevia, etc.
Feel free to use the event logo on your blog to help promote the event!
Have fun and let your creativity shine!
You may enter as many times as you like, but please submit a separate entry for each recipe, and submit only one entry per blog post.
If you don’t have a blog, you can still participate! Simply email your recipe, or recipe and a photo, to soskitchenchallenge@gmail.com. We’ll post it for you.
For all the details (and to view past challenges), check out the SOS Kitchen Challenge page. Deadline for submission is Wednesday, November 30, 2011. Kim and I look forward to seeing all your culinary creations using parsnips!
I well remember the unbridled glee we all felt in grade school when, first thing in the morning, the Principal walked in to announce that we’d have a substitute teacher that day. We kids practically roared with excitement at the prospect of (a) getting a reprieve from homework (because the substitute, of course, never knew exactly what our regular teacher had assigned); (b) getting a reprieve from the usual discipline and classroom structure (we would just make up new rules that we preferred, and she never knew the difference); and (c) getting a reprieve from, basically, any learning at all (she didn’t stand a chance with a group of squealing, shrieking, squirming children who suddenly considered the day to be allotted for play).
Ah, yes, kids can be so cruel.
At least the class embraced the notion of a substitute with gusto. These days, I think, we’ve got the connotation of “substitute” all wrong. A substitute is not a lesser version of the “real thing”–no sir. It’s the brave soldier willing to stand in for his buddy on the front lines. It’s the eager understudy who may just surpass the headliner. It’s the medical resident who steps in to complete the operation when the surgeon’s hands begin to tremble. You get the idea.
Whenever the HH and I go to a restaurant and the menu proclaims “No Substitutions allowed” next to their most popular items, I’m always a little peeved and wonder how much more they’d sell of said pasta or salad if they did allow subs. In fact, I make a point of seeking out eating establishments that do permit changes to the menu–otherwise, I’d have precious few choices most of the time (oh, wait, I still have precious few choices. Damn you, ACD!).
And let’s not forget the common phrase, “poor substitute.” It’s as if those two words are fused at the hip, sort of like Eng and Chang, or coffee and cigarettes, or Simon and Paula (I know–can you believe they’re together, again, on X-Factor??).
Me, I love substitutes. I think substituting is part of the fun in cooking. When I first changed my diet, I wanted to play with every new ingredient I could find and figure out how the new could replace the old (or not). I was so fascinated with substitutes, in fact, that I devoted an entire chapter to substitutes in my cookbook.
The process of coming up with substitutes can be a truly creative endeavor in the kitchen (or, really, any facet of life). Maybe my interest is rooted in my cash-strapped twenties when, as a graduate student, I was constantly seeking cheaper alternatives for the latest fashions, buzz-worthy restaurants, first-class travel, or even a favored bubbly. After a while, it was like a game: what can I use instead of this pernod in the recipe to achieve the same result (without the same cost)? How about this cool aviator jacket from the army surplus instead of the latest runway darling? And these discarded flyers have print on one side only–they’d make great note paper–for free!
My knack for subbing one ingredient for another came back in a flash last week as I prepared a warming soup for the HH and me (sort of how the autumn weather itself decided to blast into town out of nowhere, too). With the cooler clime suddenly upon us, I found myself wanting some classic split-pea soup. After consulting my soup bible, Nava Atlas’s Vegan Soups and Hearty Stews for All Seasons, I settled on the “Golden Curried Pea Soup.”
Everything was going along swimmingly (except of course, no more real swimming, now that it’s turned cool outside–summer, why hast thou forsaken me?). My onion was sizzling, I was chopping up the carrots, I poured the broth into the pot and reached for my jar of split peas, and–oh, noooo! No split peas! (I had been so certain I had some, in fact, that I hadn’t even checked before beginning to cook–kids, please don’t try this at home). But the soup must go on! I scanned the cupboard for a suitable substitute, and came upon a jar of red lentils. Perfecto!
In went the lentils and the the final result worked out beautifully. This version offers up the same thick, nubby, substantial base as a split-pea version, albeit slightly less sweet. The curry provided a warming undertone to the mild flavor of the lentils, and the carrots contributed their own seasonal color and texture. This is a stick-to-your-ribs, hearty and filling bowlful, one you’ll be scraping clean with your spoon.
In this instance, I daresay my substitute was every bit as good as I expect the original would have been. I hope you’ll give it a try–and do feel free to substitute another legume of choice for the lentils.
This is an easy-to-prepare, long-simmering soup that is warming and satisfying on a cool day. Paired with a salad and chunk of hearty bread, it makes a perfect light meal.
1 pound (454 g) red lentils, split yellow peas, or other quick-cooking legume
1/2 cup (120 ml) raw brown rice
2 bay leaves
2 tsp (10 ml) good-quality curry powder, more or less to taste (I used more)
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) turmeric
1 tsp (5 ml) freshly grated ginger
pinch of ground nutmeg
salt and pepper, to taste
Heat the oil over medium heat in a large soup pot. Add the onion and garalic and sauté until just golden.
Add remaining ingredients to the pot except for salt and pepper. Bring to a boil, then lower the heat to a simmer. Cover and simmer gently until the lentils are mushy, about 1-1/2 hours, stirring occasionally to prevent scorching.
When the soup is ready, adjust consistency with more water as needed, then season with salt and pepper. Discard the bay leaves and serve. Makes 8-10 servings. May be frozen.
We just got through a crazy weekend, all right: first it was Hurricane Irene pelting the East Coast (hope everyone affected came out safe! My poor cousin CBC is still without power, for the second day in a row. . . looks like it will be another day or two until she’s operating as usual at home). On the opposite side of the continent, a massive number of ecstatic vegans participated in Vida Vegan Con, the inaugural vegan bloggers conference. Though I wasn’t there (already resolved to be at the next one!!), I still felt tapped into the electrical excitement via tweets and blog posts from vegan luminaries like Gena, JL, Vegan Cuts, Lisa, Christy, Megan, Eco Vegan Gal (who posted some remarkable roundups even though she didn’t attend, either) and probably a whole bunch more I’m forgetting to mention. Last night, the HH and I capped off the weekend with a wedding (no, no, not ours–the daughter of my friend Eternal Optimist got married).
With all that frenetic activity, I wanted a quick and easy dinner on Saturday. As I’ve mentioned before, I adore greens in all their guises. Give me a good raw kale salad (or two), some collard wraps or chard in a quizza and I’m happy. For some reason, though, I had never had much luck with broccoli rabe (also known as rapini) before this past weekend.
Years ago, one of my friends worked as a publicist for a large record company here in Toronto. His job was to manage several classical musicians, promote their work and fête them when they breezed through town (he was also the reason I got to attend the Junos–Canada’s equivalent of the Grammys–one year. I’ll never forget Alanis Morisette’s garbled acceptance speech (“Songwriter of the Year”) or seeing The Barenaked Ladies in person (this before their acrimonious breakup, of course). Thanks for that star-infused evening, Mr. PR!)
Anyway, Mr. PR lived in an Architectural Digest-worthy, designer-influenced, immaculate apartment near High Park. The place was a mélange of one-of-a-kind antiques flanked by modern art and kitsch. Cramped with gigantic antique mahogany armoirs and buffets, hand-knotted Persian rugs in shades of gold, ruby and onyx, and an L-shaped white leather sofa, it was the kind of room in which I was a little afraid to drink a glass of red wine. And yet, Mr. PR owned a dog. A very sweet, very gentle, very boisterous, very lovable dog, who roamed freely throughout the place. Oh, and also a very LARGE dog: an English Mastiff, whose name was Vita.
Yes, that’s right: Vita (named after Vita Sackville-West), which is just one letter away from “Vida,” as in “Vida Vegan.” Back to Vida Vegan! Coincidence? I think not!
Those were the halcyon days for the HH and me; we didn’t yet have a dog of our own (I know; it’s impossible to imagine a life without The Girls). Instead, we offered to dog-sit Vita while Mr. PR was out of town, for a hit of surrogate puppy parenting. Although she was perfectly prim and poised while in the house, the moment Vita’s paws hit the sidewalk, she morphed into a canine cyclone of jumping, lunging, panting, drooling, chasing after balls. That was the era when Ricky Martin’s pop hit, Living La Vida Loca seemed omnipresent on the airwaves, and the HH and I couldn’t resist revamping it slightly to reflect our experience with Vita:
She’ll make you put your clothes on and go walking in the rain
She’ll tug the leash and make you fall and cause excessive pain–Come on!
Living with Vita Loca!
We’d serenade each other with that chorus while driving to work, brushing our teeth, reading the New York Times over brunch, or, basically, any time we felt like a good guffaw. Months later, I ventured to share our little ditty with Mr. PR and sang a few lines to him. At first, he seemed perplexed; then he stared at me as if I’d just eaten a baby ferret. (Hmm. TMI, perhaps?)
In any case, Vida Vegan brought to mind Vita Loca, which brought to mind. . . broccoli rabe (you knew I’d get to it eventually, didn’t you?).
You see, broccoli rabe was Mr. PR’s favorite vegetable. Since I knew Mr. PR during the “Decade of the Dinner Party,” I often inquired about my guests’ taste preferences so I could cook up something they really liked. And Mr. PR really liked rapini.
Sad to say, I never did cook those bitter greens for him. In fact, I probably didn’t venture to make them at all until I was well into my 40s. On my first attempt, I overcooked them considerably and was left with a limp, military green blob of bitter stems devoid of any nutritional content. Thereafter, I habitually made sautéed broccoli rabe with olive oil and garlic, which is nice, but it does tend to lose its initial élan after eating it, say, 47 times in a row that way.
Last weekend, I came across an old recipe I’d bookmarked in the April, 2005 issue of Everyday Food. Martha is always an inspiration (I bet she would have laughed at that song about Vita). I was in the mood for something cheesy (as in, “edible cheesy” and not “reworking-the-lyrics-of-a-tacky-pop-song-to make-them-even-more-cheesy” cheesy). The original recipe called for ricotta, and I knew instinctively that my almond feta would work perfectly in its stead. The dish cooks up very quickly–once the feta is ready, you can have dinner on the table in less than 30 minutes–and it was truly one of the best pasta dishes we’ve ever shared.
Enveloped in a thick, velvety sauce, the broccoli rabe took on a whole new dimension, its gruff countenance softened by the almost sweet cream sauce and springy pasta. Even the HH loved it and conferred his stamp of approval (in other words, he scarfed down an entire plateful and then went for seconds).
I may not have made it to the conference, but our Vida Vegan here in the DDD household last weekend was pretty delicious nonetheless, thanks to this yummy pasta. And I hope to make it to the other Vida Vegan next time!
“Mum, we couldn’t imagine a life without you and Dad, either. You may be a little loco yourselves, but still, who else would hand-feed us baby carrots for dessert every night, and share their almond feta pasta with us, and throw the Frisbee for us? Oh, and by the way–why haven’t you written a song about me and Elsie yet?”
Creamy Pasta with Almond Feta and Broccoli Rabe (suitable for ACD Stage 3 and beyond)
adapted from Everyday Food, April 2005
You will be surprised that there’s no dairy in this smooth, velvety, cheesy sauce. If you like creamy cheeses like ricotta or feta, you’ll love this pasta. It’s also a great way to use a batch of almond feta.
1 small to medium bunch broccoli rabe, trimmed, washed and coarsely chopped
about half a pound (8 oz/225 g) pasta of choice (I used rice rotini)
2 Tbsp (30 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
3 large cloves garlic, chopped
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) chili flakes
salt and pepper, to taste
1 batch Almond Feta Cheese (omit the herb and oil topping; you can use it pre-baked if you’re in a hurry)
3/4-1 cup (180-240 ml) unsweetened almond or soy milk
Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Add the broccoli rabe and allow to boil for one minute. Using a slotted spoon, remove the broccoli rabe to a colander and return the water to a boil. Add the pasta and cook according to package directions. Drain; return the pasta to the pot and keep warm (cover if necessary).
While the pasta is cooking, heat the oil in a large nonstick frypan over medium heat. Add the garlic and chili flakes and stir for about a minute, until fragrant.
Add the drained broccoli rabe to the pan, season with salt and pepper, and cook, stirring frequently, until tender, about 5 minutes. Crumble the cheese into the frypan and add the milk. Stir to create a creamy sauce (it’s nice if you can keep a few blobs of cheese intact, but don’t worry if it all melts into the sauce).
Scrape the saucy mixture into the pot with the pasta and toss well to coat the pasta. Serve immediately. Makes 4-6 servings. May be frozen (defrost in fridge overnight, then add about 1/4 cup (60 ml) water and heat in a covered casserole at 350F/180C for about 25 minutes).
Last Year at this Time: Musings on the IFBC 2010 (and gratuitous photo of Ricki at her Sweet Sixteen!)
[Sometimes, you just want a dish that's quick and easy--no fuss. I've decided to offer a mini-post every once in a while, for a dish that comes together incredibly quickly or else is so simple to make that no recipe is required. Here's today's "Flash in the Pan." (For other FitP recipes, see "Categories" at right).]
Last week, I was whipping up a favorite walnut-chocolate nut butter when it hit me: why not make a bean-based “butter,” too? Beans could add more fiber and drastically lower the fat content. I looked around and discovered that I’d been preceded in my quest for a bean-based chocolate spread by Celine (of course), Hannah, Stef, and even Oprah! But calling it “chocolate hummus” just didn’t seem right to me. . . so Chocolate Bean Butter, it is!
I blended this up with some raw cacao and posted the delectable result on Facebook:
Then this morning, I decided to try it out with regular cocoa powder for a more intensely chocolate flavor. And wow–this stuff blew me away! The spread is incredibly rich and impossibly smooth and light. I’m happy to eat it right from the container with a spoon.
Made with white kidney or navy beans, the flavor is milder than a chickpea-based spread. This would be perfect as a filler for a back-to-school sandwich or atop your favorite pancake, muffin, or biscuit. Protein, minerals, fiber and chocolatey flavonoids all in one silky, irresistible “butter.”
Bring on more beans, I say!
Chocolate Bean Butter (ACD Stage 3 and beyond, with Stage 1 variation)
I prefer canned beans in this butter, as they are usually softer and easier to blend than my homecooked ones. But if yours turn out really soft when cooked from dried, feel free to go with those instead. If you use the raw cacao here, you can omit the coconut sugar and replace it with more stevia; the spread will be bitter without the coconut sugar if you use regular cocoa, though.
1 can (19 oz or 540 ml) white kidney or navy beans, rinsed and drained, or 2 cups (480 ml) well-cooked and drained beans
5 Tbsp (75 ml) dark unsweetened cocoa powder or raw cacao powder
2 Tbsp (30 ml) coconut sugar (use with cocoa powder), or replace with more stevia (with the raw cacao option)
1/4 tsp (1 ml) stevia powder or 40-50 drops plain or vanilla stevia liquid
up to 2 Tbsp (30 ml) water or unsweetened almond milk, if needed
Place all ingredients in the bowl of a food processor and process until perfectly smooth, scraping down sides as necessary. Once you think it’s smooth, process for another minute. Scrape into a container or jar and store, covered, in the refrigerator up to 3 days. Makes about 2 cups (480 ml).
Variation for ACD Stage One: Use carob instead of cocoa and sweeten entirely with stevia or yacon syrup.
If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you likely know a few things about me already: I adore my Girls (and you’re not too shabby, either, HH); I abhor winter and all its accoutrements (and–*sob*–it is just around the corner!); though it’s been many years, I still harbor resentment toward Rocker Guy (he of the black leather pants); I’m a proud Canadian (who dreams of visiting Australia and being on The Ellen Show); and I love chocolate.
Let me elaborate on that last one a bit: I like vanilla. I really enjoy mint. And I even sometimes crave coconut.
But I love chocolate.
In fact, I’m even a little afraid to do a search on the word “chocolate” on this blog–it most likely features in all of my posts, somewhere or other. Well, maybe not the dog ones. Dogs aren’t allowed to eat chocolate. But wait, since I just told you they’re not allowed to eat chocolate, I guess that counts as mentioning chocolate, doesn’t it? And by mentioning chocolate, that qualifies as being featured on this blog post, too, doesn’t it? Even though, of course, those particular posts wouldn’t necessarily mean that I was cooking with chocolate, no; but the mere mention– (“Zip it, Mum. We get it: you like chocolate. Now, forget about that canine poison and give us some of this carob fudge instead, would you please?”)
Ahem. Well, I do realize I get pretty worked up about chocolate. My favorite all-time food (and I still imagine this to be the case, even though I haven’t had any in over a decade) is milk chocolate. Next up is anything chocolate-flavored, such as buttercream frosting, cake, cupcakes, cookies, etc. The only chocolate-based food I wasn’t too fond of, until recently, was chocolate ice cream.
Not fond of chocolate ice cream?? Are you mad, woman? (The answer to that question may indeed be, “yes,” but it has nothing to do with the ice cream.).
Leaving my mental state aside, I wasn’t even a fan of ice cream at all until I started the ACD. It’s amazing how having to cut out most grains will shift your dessert allegiance from cake and cookies to pudding, fruit-based treats, fudge, and ice cream. No matter; ACD-friendly, gluten free, sugar free, vegan ice cream is the Bomb!
And since I seem to be on an ice cream roll these days after perfecting that Caramel Ice Cream I posted about last week, I decided to go a step further and attempt an ACD-friendly chocolate ice cream.
Really, today’s recipe is just chocolate ice cream on a stick. Very firm chocolate ice cream, but chocolate ice cream nonetheless. I first learned to love fudgsicles (and, by extension, chocolate ice cream) in my twenties when I was in my “Weight Watchers” phase (technically, “Weight Watchers for the Fifth Time” phase). Along with my Weight Watchers Mousse for dinner, I remember being thrilled to discover diet Fudgesicles–”with only 60 calories each!” On nights when I really craved something sweet and chocolatey, I’d crack open the box of the frozen treats and savor one (okay–so, five).
I have no idea how many calories these babies provide–I stopped counting calories years ago–but I can tell you, I liked them a whole lot more than the diet Fudgesicles of yore. Dipped in chocolate, they make a fantastically decadent-tasting treat. The HH raved over the combination of bittersweet chocolate coating and thick, creamy, pillowy chocolate interior. In creating these, I also discovered that I much prefer the raw cacao powder (versus unsweetened cocoa powder) in the base here, as its slightly fruity undertones–along with both pear and avocado–results in one of the richest ice cream bases you’ve ever encountered, yet one that maintains its creaminess even when solid. (I’m limiting my consumption to one at a time these days, however.)
Of course, if you prefer to enjoy the mixture as regular ice cream, simply freeze the base in smaller portions and then use my “no ice cream maker required” method for almost-instant chocolate gratification. Or, instead of freezing, just pour the freshly mixed base into your regular ice cream maker, following manufacturer’s directions. The same chocolate coating can be drizzled on top for a wonderful “instant chocolate shell.”
However you serve these up, they offer an unmitigated hit of chocolate. Which is exactly what I’d like. . . pretty much any time at all.
These chocolate-coated fudgesicles are a classic summer treat. If you prefer ice cream, simply skip the sticks and pour into your ice cream maker, or else freeze and then cut the frozen mixture into chunks before creating softserve in your food processor, using the method described below. You can top with the chocolate coating later–or not–as you like.
For the fudgesicles (this also makes great ice cream; see directions below):
2 cups (480 ml) full-fat canned coconut milk (I use Thai Kitchen)
2/3 cup (160 ml) unsweetened plain or vanilla almond, soy or coconut milk (in a carton)
1/2 cup (120 ml) raw cacao powder, to your taste (regular cocoa is okay, but might require more sweetener)
1/2 cup (120 ml) pear purée (can be fresh or frozen)
1 medium just-ripe avocado, peeled and pitted (be sure it’s not over ripe!)
Set out 12-15 popsicle molds. (For ice cream, set 12 silicone muffin liners in a muffin pan or line a 9-inch (22.5 cm) square pan with plastic wrap and set aside.)
Make the Fudgesicles (or ice cream): Place all ingredients in a blender and blend until perfectly smooth and creamy. Pour into the popsicle molds, insert the sticks and allow to freeze completely, 6 hours to overnight. (For ice cream, divide the mixture evenly among the muffin liners or pour into the pan. Freeze until firm (3-5 hours), then peel off the liners and place the “muffins” in a plastic ziploc bag in the freezer until ready to use. For the pan, invert onto a cutting board, cut into 9 squares, and place the squares in a ziploc bag until ready to use.)
Once your fudgesicles are frozen, make the coating: Place all coating ingredients in a small, heavy-bottomed pot and heat over lowest possible heat, stirring constantly, until almost melted. Remove from heat, allow to sit 30 seconds, then stir again until all the chocolate is melted. Allow to cool at least 10 minutes before using.
To coat the fudgesicles: Set two soup bowls side by side on your counter. Working with one fudgesicle at a time, hold the fudgesicle over one of the bowls and pour the chocolate evenly over it, rotating the fudgesicle so all sides are coated, allowing any excess chocolate to fall into the bowl under the fudgesicle. Turn it upside down briefly to allow any excess chocolate to drip off, then hold right side up until the chocolate has hardened. Once hard, place the fudgesicle back in the freezer (I kept them all on a plate until they were all prepared, then put them all in a large plastic container).
Scrape all the chocolate sauce into one bowl. Repeat with another fudgesicle, holding this one over the empty bowl, allowing excess chocolate sauce to drip into the bowl under the fudgesicle. Keep scraping all the chocolate into one bowl in order to pour it onto the fudgesicle over the other, empty, bowl. By the time you reach the last fudgesicle, you may need to spread the chocolate directly onto it using a spatula or the back of a spoon as you may not have enough to pour. In that case, you can spread and then drizzle fancy designs with the leftovers (as in the photo, below). Makes 12-15 fudgesicles. Will keep, frozen in a covered container, up to 2 weeks.
