Diet, Dessert and Dogs

[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 first entry on cilantro.]

[Pure emerald deliciousness, spooned here  on a Brown Rice Veggie Burger]

The other day, the HH and I were discussing the possibility of taking a short trip to Boston to visit my cousin CBC.  “That would be so much fun,” I blurted out spontaneously, “I’ve got a couple of friends in Boston!”  When he asked whom, I stammered,  “Well, blog friends.” 

Before I started blogging, I couldn’t have fathomed how one could consider a virtual (no pun intended) stranger to be a “friend.”  Yet it’s true–I feel as if I’ve made friends in cities across the continent and even around the world through this l’il blog, and my contact with them is often more consistent and frequent than it is with my “local,” live friends. 

Well, thanks to my blog reader, cookbook tester, and friend Courtney, I came home last week to a package that contained these:

Don’t you just love receiving gifts in the mail?  The GardenSac bags (on which the card and brown rice are resting) are made from 100% cotton and can be used for any kind of shopping.  And, as Courtney and I discussed, they’re terrific because the open weave allows you to easily see what’s inside.  With most stores here in the Toronto area recently switching to “pay-for-plastic” policies (and some offer credit if you bring your own reusable bags), this is a perfect, and very timely, gift!  And I don’t know how Courtney guessed, but I love wild rice.  I’ve already made a wonderful Confetti Salad with it–which I’ll blog about anon. Thanks again, Courtney!

And as if last week wasn’t already great enough, I found out that I’ll be presenting two recipe demos from Sweet Freedom (one on Saturday and another on Sunday) at the upcoming Vegetarian Food Fair in September!  Billing itself as “North America’s largest annual vegetarian festival,” and with stellar keynote speakers like Colleen Patrick-Goudreau (author of The Joy of Vegan Baking and The Vegan Table) and Brenda Davis (co-author of Becoming Vegetarian and Becoming Vegan), the Fair promises to be another spectacular event this year.  It’s scheduled between September 11 and 13 at Toronto’s Harbourfront.  Come on out and say “hi”!

Whew!  And now, time for some zingy, spicy, nutritious and delectable food!

Having grown up on a farm, my dad must have felt a strong affinity for the earth, because even after working six days a week and keeping incredibly long hours, he always grew a garden in summer.  Granted, it was a fairly small garden; still, growing up my sisters and I were regularly graced with fresh tomatoes in August, plus the occasional cucumber, red pepper, or propitious esculent each season.  

One year, he decided to try out sunflowers.  Why sunflowers? Beats me.  Maybe he thought they were pretty (come to think of it, if their wallpaper choices are any indication, my parents did lean toward all things floral). I remember being astonished at how tall the stalks grew, capped with golden saucers that towered over my own eight year-old frame, and how the actual seeds filled the center of the scalloped disk, encased in their rigid black shells. When summer ended, we roasted the seeds in the oven, and my sisters and I continued to snack on them through Hallowe’en (at which point they were unceremoniously chucked in favor of candy, of course).

Remember the Jack Nicholson-Morgan Freeman groaner, The Bucket List?  Well, self-indulgent male menopausal buddy flicks aside, I’ve recently been thinking about my own version of the list, and activities that are most important to me in my lifetime.  One of the items I’ve added to my personal bucket list is “grow a real garden.”  Believe me, this is quite the proclamation coming from She Who Shrinks from Anything Insectoid.  Also, a startling revelation from She Who Recoils at Anything Snakelike.  Oh, and don’t forget a shocking assertion from She Who Guards Against Anything Even Remotely Germ-Infested or Bacteria-laden. Why, then, it makes perfect sense that I’d choose to spend my time on my knees on the dirt, digging into earth rife with microorganisms, the habitat of myriad insects and worms–and often visited by garter snakes. 

I’m not sure what it is, but as I get older, I see what must have appealed to my dad about a garden.  Nurturing the seeds, coaxing infant seedlings until they stretch sunward, ultimately unfurling in full bloom, just taps into my (otherwise untapped) maternal instinct somehow.  (“And don’t forget having dogs, Mum!  That taps into your maternal instincts, too, right? Hopefully the ‘you must feed your children’ maternal instincts.”)

Which brings me to this post’s Lucky Comestible: cilantro.

I determined early that my garden absolutely had to contain cilantro–lots and lots of cilantro. Now, I know that cilantro is one of those herbs one either loves or loathes.  Like the ability to curl your tongue or whether or not your earlobes are detached, a penchant for cilantro appears to be genetically predetermined.  Some people perceive it as “soapy and perfumey” while others can’t get enough.  Having begun life in the former camp, I now find myself firmly entrenched in the latter.

Like so many herbs, cilantro (also known as Chinese Parsley) confers a plethora of health benefits besides the usual vitamins and minerals (though it’s no slouch in those areas, either–only 9 sprigs of the delicate plant provide almost one third of your daily Vitamin A, nine per cent of your daily Vitamin C, plus iron and calcium).

More importantly, the green pigment in cilantro represents chlorophyl, a powerful detoxifying agent and blood purifier. Cilantro is known to be a chelating herb, which means it draws heavy metals out of the system by encouraging the liver to produce bile so they’ll be excreted.  In his monumental tome, Staying Healthy with Nutrition, Dr. Elson Haas includes a recipe for “Anti-Radiation Soup” that relies on the cleansing properties of cilantro to help flush the body of toxins produced due to radiation.  I always have the soup after any necessary X-Rays (and, according to Haas, the soup was “shown to reduce radiation sickness after the Hiroshima bombing”). 

If you’re one of those people who comes down on the “loathe” side of cilantro, I’d urge you to give it another try.  You’ll find that the next few posts here at DDD will focus on this fragrant and fragile herb. Of course, you can always substitute parsley for some or all of the cilantro in these recipes– but why not live dangerously? That’s one more item you can check off your own bucket list.

Fresh & Spicy Cilantro Sauce

This sauce is perfect for summer with its brilliant shade of emerald and cool, tangy, tongue-tingling flavor. The tart lime juice melds beautifully with the smooth nut butter and fragrant cilantro here.  And while we ate it spooned lightly over Jessy’s Brown Rice Veggie Burgers, it would be a perfect sauce for any meal-in-a-bowl of your choice, or even  tossed with cold noodles for a zingy summer salad.

1 to 1-1/2 cups fresh cilantro leaves and thin stems (depending on how much you like cilantro)

1/2 large jalapeno pepper (remove seeds for less heat)

juice of 2 limes

1-2 Tbsp (15-30 ml) water, if necessary to reach desired consistency

1 large clove garlic, chopped

1 Tbsp (15 ml) pumpkinseed butter; or use sunflower or almond butter (use raw butter for an all-raw version)

1 fresh green onion

pinch fine sea salt

Blend everything in a blender until it comes together in a smooth, light, vibrant green sauce (you may need to push down the sides of the blender a few times until everything is incorporated).  Taste and adjust seasoning.  Makes  about 1/2 cup (120 ml).  Will keep, covered, in refrigerator up to 3 days.

Other Posts in this Series:

• Lucky Comestible 5(2): Lemony Baked Tofu
• Lucky Comestible 5(3): Confetti Quinoa and Wild Rice Salad

Other Lucky Comestibles:

• Lucky Comestible 1: Sweet Potato
• Lucky Comestible 2: Quinoa
• Lucky Comestible 3: Avocado
• Lucky Comestible 4: Coconut

Last Year at this Time: Sweet and Spicy Tempeh

[Dig that romantic lighting in this photo!]

I have a new love, and it’s not the HH.

(“What?  Mum, you’re not getting a divorce, are you?  Because who’s going to walk us in the morning if Dad is gone??“).  Now, before I go and scare The Girls, I should specify that I’m not referring to a human object of my affection. I’m talking about a new food-related amore: celeri rémoulade.  (“Phew! Mum, you really shouldn’t scare us that way. We’re very sensitive, you know.”)

Let me backtrack a bit and explain.  Even though the HH and I do celebrate Valentine’s Day, for the past few years we’ve done so a day or two after the fact, in order to avoid the  too-crowded-too-expensive-too-mushy restaurant crowds who seem to roll out like fog off a San Francisco pier all on that one day. Last year (the first V-day to occur after I started writing this blog), I broke all previous records and assembled a multi-course, ultra-extravagant, über-romantic and oh-so-dirty dinner (no, no, no, that would have scared the dogs even more than a breakup! We’d never offend their delicate sensibilities that way. I meant “dirty” as in, “generating a lot of dirty dishes,” silly!).  I vowed that this year, we’d move to the other end of the spectrum, with a simple,  quick, yet equally delectable meal. (“Thanks, Mum.  That divorce scare was more than enough for one day.”)

I’d actually chosen the appetizer over a month ago, after reading about celeri rémoulade on Molly’s blog.  Her description was so alluring–rapturous, almost–citing the “clean, fragrant crunch of celery root, and the alchemy of mayonnaise and Dijon mustard. . . . somewhat rich [with a] flavor [that's] light, bright, even hungry-making, a perfect start to a meal,” that I knew I had to try it out. The only glitch, of course, is that traditionally, the dish contains copious amounts of both mayonnaise and yogurt (the vegan versions of which are a tad too processed for my liking). Never mind; I decided to deal with that later. 

For the main course, I considered a recipe for Tempeh Stroganoff I’d found in an old (October 2007!) issue of Vegetarian Times. 

[11:32 AM.  Ricki and the HH sit at the kitchen table, sipping tea and nibbling on muffins.  The Girls lie on the carpet in front of the fireplace, Chaser sprawled with her belly facing the fire, while Else lies curled in a ball.]

Ricki:  How about this tempeh stroganoff from Vegetarian Times?

HH:  No.

Ricki: But it sounds delicious! And it’s even gluten-fr–

HH: Uh-uh.  No.  Nada. No way.  Nein. [As if to remind Ricki of a forgotten promise]: No tofu.

Ricki: But it’s not tofu.  It’s tempeh. 

HH: Tempeh, tofu–same difference.  No soy products.

Ricki:  [pouting] Well, but, this is what I want for dinner!

HH: Okay, fine. I’ll make a steak and have the stroganoff as a side dish. 

Ricki: That’s why I love you, sweetheart.  Happy Valentine’s Day!  Kiss kiss squeeze squeeze hug hug. . .

Okay, I didn’t really say that.  But I did think it.  Here’s what I did say:

Ricki: Well, in that case, I think I’ll make it with these fabulous tempeh meatless balls that I read about on Happyveganface.

HH: Still not eating it.

Me:  That’s fine, HH.  But just because you’re cooking your own steak doesn’t mean you don’t have to help me make the stroganoff.

HH:  Okay. 

Ricki:  That’s why I love you, sweetheart.  Happy Valentine’s Day!  Kiss kiss squeeze squeeze hug hug. . .

We figured we could whip up the stroganoff in under an hour (bake the meatballs while I made the sauce; julienne the celery root while the stroganoff simmered), having time to leisurely prepare the meal ensemble while listening to some Rodrigo, exchange good-natured banter, toss cashews to The Girls and sip our favorite bargain basement champagne, sort of like we used to do in the early days of our relationship. We’d have the early part of the day to relax in our jammies, peruse the newspaper, play with The Girls, check favorite blogs, and so on.  Perfect!

After a chillaxing day (browsing the paper, taking The Girls for a trail-walk, visiting the workout club–how ya doin’, burly guy with the black knee socks?  Nice to see you again, septuagenarian couple with the matching T-shirts!  Nice day, isn’t it, bleached blonde with the flirty giggle!), we finally turned to dinner. 

Perhaps I should have planned this “easy peasy” meal just a tad more carefully.  (Of course, by the time I got round to cooking, I was semi sloshed on Segura Viudas, which may have contributed to my somewhat inefficient kitchen artistry–but still).  

First, I discovered that the cashews (the main ingredient in the homemade sour cream) required an hour’s soaking, which set our prep time back by an hour.  No problem: I’d whir together some homemade vegan mayonnaise (I used the recipe in Cozy Inside, but this one sounds just as good) and whip up the meatballs while the nuts soaked. Then, I’d quickly prep the sour cream and throw together the stroganoff while the HH grilled his steak.  We’d be done and ready to dig in by 7:00 PM at the latest.

[7:00 PM. Having forgotten about the initial chopping and sautéing involved, Ricki is still mixing ingredients for the meatballs.  Sounds of rumbling tummies can be heard in the background.]

HH:  So, um, what’s our ETA for dinner?

Ricki: Well, I’ll just pop these meatballs in the oven–I couldn’t bear to fry them–and then make the mayo and sour cream, and then I can whip up the stroganoff, and then the celeri rémoulade, oh, and then I guess we should think about dessert–

HH:  I thought this was going to be a quick and easy dinner.

Ricki [pouting]:  Well, now, I suppose it HAS been easy for YOU, hasn’t it, Mr. Lazypants?  I mean, I’VE done all the work so far, I’m standing here covered in onion juice and flour and cashew crumbs, and YOU’VE been sittng there all day reading the paper and playing with the dogs, sipping your champagne, now, haven’t you??  Well, I wouldn’t be complaining right about now if I were you, mister, you’d better watch yourself, or else—

HH:  Um, well, I’m actually happy to help.  Just tell me what to chop.  Oh, and here’s your Valentine’s Day present [brandishing chocolate].

Me:  Oh, that’s why I love you, sweetheart!  Happy Valentine’s Day! Kiss kiss squeeze squeeze hug hug. . .

Ultimately, we didn’t sit down at the table until well after 8:00 PM (have you ever julienned a celery root by hand??? Insanity, I tell you–sheer insanity).  But the results were well worth it.  The celeri rémoulade was, as Molly promised, fresh, crisp, light, and entirely irresistible.  I really did fall in love, and ate two servings before even thinking about my stroganoff.

The main course, too, offered a winning combination of succulent, filling meatless balls atop a plate of velvety, herbaceous sauce. It practically hummed its smooth melody of rich, sour cream and savory, toothsome mushrooms.

It may have been more complex than anticipated, and it may have taken six times as long as anticipated, and it may have been cobbled together from seven different recipes intended for seven other purposes. . . but this meal was remarkable all the same. 

After all, who ever said the road to true love was an easy one?

In case you’d like to reproduce the meal yourself (if you happen to have three and a half hours to spare some weekend), here’s how I assembled it.

And since celery root is available in Ontario in February, this post is my submission to Maninas’s event, Eating with the Seasons, for February. 

Vegan Celeri Rémoulade

adapted from Orangette

Light and almost ethereal, this salad will enchant with its thin, crisp matchsticks of celeriac  and creamy, fragrant dressing.

1 small to medium celery root

6 Tbsp (75 ml) mayonnaise of your choice

2 Tbsp (30 ml) this “sour cream” (save the rest for the stroganoff sauce)

1 Tbsp plus 1/2 tsp (17.5 ml) dijon mustard

salt, to taste

lemon juice, to taste

To prepare the celery root, peel away all the outer gnarly skin until you have a smooth, white root ball.  Cut the root in half and place cut side down on a cutting board.

Slice the halves into thin slices.  Stack the slices and cut again into thin matchsticks.  If you have a mandolin and it will handle celery root, by all means use that instead (and avoid a 40-minute operation if done by hand–though of course you won’t revel in the same satisfaction as you will from doing it by hand. But then again, who cares?). Place the matchsticks in a large bowl.

In a small bowl, prepare the dressing:  whisk together the remaining ingredients.  Pour over the celery root and toss to coat.  Allow to sit about 10 minutes for flavors to meld before devouring.  Makes 4-6 servings.  Will keep, tightly covered, in the refrigerator for 3 days.

Meatball Stroganoff (GF option)

based on a recipe in Vegetarian Times, October 2007

[More romantic lighting!  Okay, actually, it was just evening and fairly dark when I took the pic.]

While I enjoyed the disparate elements of this dish immensely, I think next time I’d pair the meatballs with a tomato-based sauce, as Jes does in her original recipe.  The stroganoff sauce would be fine on its own, too.

1 recipe tempeh (or other) meatballs (I used this one–ues GF meatballs for GF option)

4 ounces (115 g) button or other mushrooms (I used portabello)

2 Tbsp (30 ml) tamari or soy sauce (use GF for GF option)

1/4 cup (40 g) brown rice flour

1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) dried mustard powder

1/8 tsp (.5 ml) ground nutmeg

1/4 cup (60 ml) Madeira, vermouth, or apple juice (I used vermouth)

3 cups (720 ml) vegetable broth (or use 2 tsp/10 ml bouillon powder and water) (use GF for GF option)

1Tbsp (15 ml) olive oil

1 medium yellow onion, thinly sliced

1 cup (240 ml) chopped kale, collards, or Swiss chard1/4 cup (45 g) potato starch

1 cup (240 ml) sour cream (I used this one)

about 8 ounces (225 g) rice pasta, or pasta of your choice

paprika, for garnish, if desired

In a small bowl, toss the mushrooms with the tamari and set aside.  Meanwhile, combine the starch, flour, mustard and nutmeg in a large bowl. Slowly whisk in the madeira until smooth; then whisk in the broth until well blended.  Set aside.

In a frypan, heat the oil over medium heat and then sauté the onion until translucent. Add the mushrooms with the tamari and continue to sauté another 2-3 minutes.  Add the kale and cook for another minute, until it begins to wilt.

Pour the liquid mixture over the vegetables in the frypan, and stir over medium-low heat until it begins to bubble and thicken.  Add the sour cream and stir to blend well (if sauce is too thick, add more water or some soymilk).  Keep warm while you prepare the pasta.

To serve, place pasta on a plate and top with several warm meatballs.  Spoon sauce over all, and garnish with paprika if desired.  Serve immediately.  Makes 4-6 servings.

 Last Year at this Time: Juicy Cuisine and Crunchy Granola

© 2009 Diet, Dessert and Dogs