One night when I was sixteen, I watched Marvin Hamlisch (composer of A Chorus Line, etc.) on The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson. The previous guest was Adrienne Barbeau, the buxom actress who played Bea Arthur’s daughter on the sitcom Maude. I was appalled as I witnessed Hamlisch, seated on the couch beside her, stammer and fidget (eyes flitting repeatedly toward her massive chest) while more or less grovelling for a date on air. Despite his musical genius, despite his fame and fortune and an upcoming gig at the Caesar’s Palace in Las Vegas, it was painfully apparent that Hamlish reverted to a tongue-tied nerd when faced with a beautiful woman who, clearly, barely registered his existence.
As soon as I got up off the sofa and turned off the television (no remotes in those days), I went to my typewriter and typed a letter to Marvin. It said:
Dear Marvin Hamlisch,
Someone with your reputation shouldn’t have to lower himself to ask Adrienne Barbeau for a date. Obviously, she doesn’t appreciate your genius. If you ever come to Montreal, I would go on a date with you any time.
Sincerely,
(Miss) Ricki Heller
I addressed it to “Marvin Hamlisch, c/o Caesar’s Palace, Las Vegas, USA” and popped it in the mail.
The following week, I received a handwritten letter on Marvin’s personal stationery. It said:
Dear Ricki,
If I ever get to Montreal, you’re on.
Sincerely,
Marvin Hamlisch
Sometimes I think back on that letter and ask myself, “Wow, did I ever really have such audacity? Where did that starry-eyed insouciance go? And why didn’t Marvin ever call me for that date?”
Then I remember: oh, yeah. I was sixteen.
Well, dear readers, I’ve decided it’s time to dredge up my inner 16 year-old once again. And you can help!
Even at my advanced age, I’m still a pop culture groupie. I’ve been a fan of Ellen’s for as long as I can remember (almost as long as it’s been since I heard from Marvin). I love her even more now that she’s vegan and sugar-free–and I want to be on The Ellen Degeneres Showso I can bring her some amazing baked goods from my cookbook, Sweet Freedom!
[Elsie's definitely on board! (or is that a little board on Elsie?)]
Am I a little bit crazy? You betcha!
As someone who’s followed a whole foods diet for over decade, I know first hand how much a healthy diet can affect your well-being (just look at the impact of the ACD on me over this past year!). Based on the cookbook’s reviews and all your fabulous feedback (thank you! thank you! My blog readers are the best!), I’m confident others will agree that treats from the book are both healthy AND delicious. What better venue to spread the word than The Ellen Show, especially since the show’s star herself has adopted–and now promotes–this same way of eating?
["Here, Mum, you'll need this to dance on the show."]
Besides, I’d be a perfect guest for the show! We have so much in common, Ellen and I: She loves dogs; I love dogs. She eats a vegan diet; I eat a vegan diet. She’s sworn off sugar; I’ve sworn off sugar. She loves American Idol; I love American Idol. She’s gay; I’m—
Hmmm.
She loves dogs; I love dogs!
And you can help! On April 2, 2010, I tweeted for an entire day nonstop, with every single tweet that day directed to @TheEllenShow–with NO laptop, NO BlackBerry, NO pre-scheduled tweets–just me sitting at my desktop computer, typing away (with the occasional bathroom break)! The major blitz is over, but I’d like to keep the campaign going!
["Mum, I know you named me Elsie, but I think I'd like to be called Ellen from now on."]
Together, we can make this happen! If you like my recipes and want to see me serve delicious, vegan and sugar free treats on The Ellen Show, please feel free to tweet Ellen at @TheEllenShow, or send an email in support byclicking here. You can also post a link to this page on your blog, Stumble this blog entry (just click on “I like this” at the top of the page if you see this on StumbleUpon), tell your local librarian, get a tattoo–whatever works!
And don’t forget tohop back here to leave a comment telling me you did so (so I can send you a free copy of the book if when I get onto the show)!
[But where's Mum?]
If I get invited on the show, every single commenter who participates in this blitz will win a FREE copy of Sweet Freedom, the ebook , which is identical to the paper copy! (And isn’t giving away free goodies very Ellen-like of me?).
And even if I don’t get asked to appear on the show, I’ll still choose 10 names at random on Sunday–three people will win hard copies of the book, and seven will win ebook. It’s my way of saying “thank you” for all your support!
I think it’s a win-win-win. If Ellen invites me to her show, she’ll have the opportunity to try some amazing, healthy baked goods. I’ll get to fulfill the dream of a starry-eyed teenager (and, more recently, a starry-eyed menopausal blogger). And you will get a FREE copy of my cookbook–everybody wins!
Let’s make it happen! Let’s show the world what “grassroots marketing” really means! Let’s prove to all the aloof, disinterested corporations that even the little guy (okay, technically I’m not quite “little” yet–but 45 pounds is nothing to sneeze at) can drum up support for an independent project without a huge marketing budget! Let’s help Ellen discover some truly delicious sweets to eat on her sugar cleanse–and share them with the world! And let’s all go try out one of these raw cookie dough truffles right now! (Well, you’ll need a good source of quick energy for all that typing, I figure).
“Mum, that’s a great idea! And we know The Ellen Show would be lucky to have you. But, um, we are your usual kitchen helpers, you know. . . so does that mean we get to be on TV, too?”
Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Truffles (ACD-Phase II and beyond)
As soon as I saw this recipe on Alicia’s blog, I knew I had to try it. The filling emulates a real raw cookie dough almost too well–gooey, sweet, chocolately. Except, um, it’s not bad for you! AND it’s ACD-friendly! Variations are endless, as well–in addition to the two provided, you could try banana cookie dough, gingersnap, or snickerdoodles–mmmm!
Cookie Dough:
2 Tbsp (30 ml) raw cacao nibs or chocolate chips*
1/3 cup (80 ml) whole old-fashioned rolled oats (not instant or quick-cook)
2/3 cup (160 ml) lightly toasted cashews*, walnuts, macadamia nuts or hazelnuts
10-20 drops plain or vanilla flavored stevia liquid, to taste
1-2 Tbsp water or plain soy or almond milk, if needed
Coating:
4 ounces (110 g) unsweetened chocolate
1 Tbsp (15 ml) coconut oil
2 Tbsp (30 ml) carob powder, sifted (it helps cut the bitterness when unsweetened chocolate is stevia-sweetened)
20-30 drops stevia liquid, to taste
In a small food processor or coffee grinder, pulse the cacao nibs 3-4 times to chop them up. Turn the chopped nibs into a small bowl.
In the same processor or grinder, whir the oats, cashews, cinnamon and salt together to form a fine flour. Take care not to process too much–it should still remain dry and floury.
In a very small bowl or measuring cup, whisk together the yacon, vanilla, stevia, and 1 Tbsp (15 ml) water. Pour this over the mixture in the processor and process to form a soft “dough” (if you need more water, add it one teaspoon/5 ml at a time). Turn the dough into the bowl with the cacao nibs and stir to distribute the nibs throughout.
Using a small ice cream scoop or tablespoon, scoop the dough and place scoops on parchment-lined tray. Freeze until firm, then roll into balls; refreeze until solid.
Meanwhile, prepare the chocolate coating: In a small pot over medium-low heat, melt the chocolate with the coconut oil and carob, whisking to ensure that no lumps develop. Whisk in stevia until smooth.
Once cookie dough balls are solid, remove from freezer and quickly dip them in the chocolate; roll them around if necessary. The coating should harden almost immediately. Remove with a fork and tap the fork on the side of the pot to remove most of the excess coating. Place truffles on a tray and refrigerate until firm. Store truffles in an airtight container in the refrigerator until ready to eat. Makes 10 truffles. May be frozen.
* Some anti-candida diets veto cashews. If you don’t eat cashews, use one of the other choices. For ACD Phase I, you can use unsweetened carob chips instead of cacao nibs; omit the coating and just roll the balls in carob powder.
Carrot Cookie Variation: use 2 Tbsp (30 ml) dried unsweetened coconut in place of cacao nibs, walnuts in place of cashews, and 2 Tbsp (30 ml) finely grated carrot in addition to other ingredients. Reduce initial water to 2 tsp (10 ml).
Post-Script: I realize this stunt may seem rather, well, adolescent to some of you (and to others, a clear indication that midlife crisis has struck with a vengeance). And after this post, I promise we’ll be back to business as usual here on DDD. But you know what? I still get a kick out of that letter from Hamlisch. So for now, I’ll once again channel that audacious sixteen year old, just for today. I figure, what have I got to lose? I’ll either be asked on the show; or I may be permanently banned from the show. Either way, the process will be fun.
And maybe–just maybe–that 16 year-old girl of yore will be surprised and delighted once more, with an opportunity of a lifetime. Here’s to healthy baked goods for all!
I was thrilled that the HH and I were invited to twoseders this year (sorry, Girls). But after being delighted at my friends’ generosity, I panicked when I realized that most Passover food, besides being meat and poultry-heavy, is also full of eggs and gluten (not to mention sugar and honey)! Immediately, I decided to bring something along that I could eat–and that everyone else could enjoy, too.
I was surprised at how many DDD recipes are Passover-friendly (no grain, no gluten, no leavening, no beans or legumes, and a few other restrictions). Here’s a little roundup for those of you who follow Passover traditions (and even those who don’t!) and are looking for something delicious and healthy to cook up.
“Mum, maybe we can’t come to the seder, but would you mind bringing home some leftovers? That kale saladis way more tasty than this kong.”
* that’s “bites” in the sense of, “little tidbits that can be eaten in one mouthful,” rather than the sense of, “really sucks” (as in, “reality bites”) or even “little nibbles on the flesh of the one you love” (though, to paraphrase our most famous Prime Minister, DDD has no business in the kitchens of the nation–go ahead and nibble your sweetie, if you so please!).
[Two ACD-friendly confections: chocolate fudge on the left, carob-speckled halvah on the right (halvah recipe adapted from the one inSweet Freedom)]
Well, it’s almost V-Day again. So, got any plans?
Over here in the DDD household, the HH and I long ago abandoned romance. Or perhaps I should rephrase that: the HH abandoned romance. I, on the other hand (nerd alert! nerd alert!) am the kind of gal who would swim in a river of romance if I could find one. I’d eat a triple-decker Banana Split of romance. I’d paint a billboard of romance. I’d crochet a three-piece suit of romance. I’d sleep on a duvet of romance. (“Mum, we’d sleep on a duvet of romance, too, you know. Except you won’t let us on the furniture.”)
I’d–well, you get the idea. Basically, I’m just a big blob of schmaltz (in the figurative sense, that is. I’m only a half blob of schmaltz in the literal sense, what will all that weight loss and everything).
In our house, my approach to Valentine’s Day goes something like this:
February 17, 2009: start thinking about ideas for next year’s V-Day.
July 12, 2009: while enjoying the outdoor jazz festival at the Beaches, surreptitiously write down all the HH’s favorite musicians so I can buy CDs for Valentine’s Day.
November 4, 2009: Stop at craft store to select yarn to knit a romantic scarf for the HH for V-Day. If I start knitting now, I’ll have it for Feb 14th.
January 15, 2010: So many cards for Valentine’s Day–which should I buy? Can’t decide. Buy two.
January 28, 2010: Browse through a plethora of blogs and magazines to find the perfect, romantic meal to cook up for Valentine’s Day. Consult existing list (alphabetized by course) to see which dishes would work best for the Big Feb One-Four.
February 2, 2010: Forget the groundhog! Must choose the perfect ribbon to wrap the HH’s Valentine’s Day gift!
February 9, 2010: Consider how best to deliver the HH’s gifts for the Day of Hearts–only five days away! Should I wrap each one separately, and hide them throughout the house in a kind of scavenger hunt? Should I put them all in the same box, and wrap it as one gift? Such decisions!
February 11, 2010: Pretend I’m baking for a TV spot when I am really secretly cooking up various kinds of chocolate truffles to include in my gift for the HH.
February 14, 2010: Fill a shoebox with mini teddy bear, hand-knit scarf, bag of cinnamon hearts, boxes of homemade truffles, key chain with “I heart You” on it, Miles Davis CD and Card #1 (the sappy one). Spend a couple of hours painstakingly drawing hearts and flowers plus line drawings of Ricki and the HH, in various shades of pink and red, on the outside of the shoebox, then wrapping with blue satin ribbon; stick Card #2 (the funny one) on the outside of the box. Set table with best linens (well, polyester made to look like linen, anyway), china, wine glasses and candlelight. Play something soft and romantic like Satie’s Petite Overture a Danser, and wait for the romance to unfold.
The HH’s approach? Goes something like this:
February 14, 2010: “So, is today one of those holidays where I have to get you a card or you get mad at me?”
Okay, I exaggerate. He usually asks me that question on February thirteenth.
Well, for anyone with similar romantic aspirations to mine, I present you with little bites of chocolate fudge–ACD friendly. These are an adaptation of the super-successful Fudge Two Ways I made a couple of years ago (and feel free to use that recipe if you can consume other sweeteners). The communion of unsweetened chocolate, yacon syrup and stevia creates an irresistible flavor, a bittersweet blend of cacao underscored with subtle hints of molasses.
Whether or not you’re hoping for romance this V-Day, these little bites will definitely bring some alluring chocolate into your life. In fact, you may just fall in love.
Love Bites (ACD-Friendly Chocolate Fudge–suitable for Phase I or II)
[Little white dots of cashew and macadamia nut are visible throughout, a result of my home-ground nut butters; the storebought kind won't have these same speckles.]
3/4 cup (130 g) chopped good-quality unsweetened chocolate (I used Cocoa Camino); or use unsweetened carob chips for ACD Phase I
1 Tbsp (15 ml) coconut oil, preferably organic (USE ONLY with carob option)
1/4 cup (60 ml) natural smooth cashew-macadamia butter (I just mixed together half cashew, half macadamia nut butter); or use all-macadamia for ACD Phase I
1/8 tsp fine sea salt
2 Tbsp (30 ml) yacon syrup, vegetable glycerin, or a combination
10-20 drops plain, vanilla, or chocolate stevia liquid, depending on the brand and your desired sweetness level
1 tsp (5 ml) pure vanilla extract or vanilla paste
1/4 cup (30 g) coarsely chopped walnuts, if desired
Lightly grease a 6 inch (15 cm) loaf pan, or line with plastic wrap.
In a large glass or metal bowl set over a smaller pot of simmering water (the bottom of the bowl should not touch the water), stir the chocolate (or chips and coconut oil, if using carob chips) until melted and completely smooth. Add the nut butter and salt and stir again until combined. Remove from the heat.
Add the yacon syrup, stevia, vanilla and nuts and stir well. Turn the mixture into the prepared pan and smooth the top.
Chill until set, about an hour; then cover with more plastic wrap and chill until very firm, 2 hours to overnight. Turn out onto a cutting board, peel away the plastic wrap, and cut into small squares. Makes 12-20 love bites. Will keep, wrapped in the refrigerator, up to 2 weeks. May be frozen.
Whew! Well, it took me a little longer to get to this post than anticipated. But I’m happy to report that my stack of exams has all been marked, the final grades submitted, and all that remains of this semester are a few meetings next week. And then: par-tay!
Come to think of it, I already hosted my first party this season (except that makes it sound as if there will be more than one, doesn’t it?), a pot luck dinner a for some friends from nutrition school. Though only two of us are vegan, everyone brought along a vegan dish. Aren’t they an amazing, open-minded crowd? This year, in fact, almost everyone managed an ACD-friendly dish as well, so I was able to partake of almost everything. Here’s what we feasted upon:
These Hazelnut Melting Moments (one of my contributions, and one of the foods I couldn’t eat, ironically) are my remake of a confection I used to serve all the time at dinner parties. They speak of the holidays to me, so I figured I’d whip up a batch (well, if you heard cookies talking, could you say “no” to them? Lucky for me I don’t hear dead people).
Way back in my 30s, I lived in a basement apartment. Of all the places I’ve lived as an adult (with the exception of the wee postwar bungalow I owned when I first met the HH), that apartment was my favorite. Why, you ask? Well, you know what they say: ”location, location, location.”
You see, the place was situated on the venerable Heath Street in Toronto, just a hop, skip and condominium or two from the St. Clair subway and in the tony Forest Hill area of town. The building itself was a renovated Victorian mansion; our landlady had gone to some trouble to furnish the upper three flats with marble bathroom tiles, hardwood floors, stylish light fixtures and even reverse-osmosis water filtration systems in the kitchens.
My place, on the other hand, hadn’t been upgraded a whit; it was, simply, a basement apartment, much like any other (except in the basement of a lovely old mansion in a wealthy area of town, of course). Perhaps my landlady assumed people in that part of the city wouldn’t lower themselves–no pun intended–to live in subterranean digs; whatever the reason, I couldn’t believe how affordable the place was, and leapt at the chance to move in.
It may have been a basement, with peephole-sized windows that framed pedestrians’ footwear as they trod by above; it may have been a haven for a constant procession of bugs, spiders and even the errant mouse on occasion (I’m sure you must have heard me shriek when I first spied that little rodent taking a stroll through my living room); it may have housed the furnace for the entire building in my coat closet (the other tenants regularly knocked on my door at all hours of the day or night to ask me to turn up the heat); but I loved it. It was clean, it was roomy, and it was warm (courtesy of aforementioned furnace).
And it was the setting for many a dinner party.
These days, one event a year seems like plenty; but back then–what I now consider “The Year of Living Sociably”–I’d use any excuse to entertain. Your birthday? Let me throw you a party! Got a promotion? I’ll cook dinner for you and four friends! Just adopted a daughter from China? Let’s have the entire group who flew over from Canada to my place!
It was my first apartment on my own after I got divorced from the Starter Husband, and I took every opportunity to socialize. I even held my divorce ceremony and subsequent “I’m Free!” reception there. And I hosted a “I think I’m in love” bash when the HH and I finally got together.
Like a regular guest, these Hazelnut Melting Moments made an appearance at almost every gathering (though they never stuck around to the end of the soirée). Partway between a shortbread and a chocolate chip cookie, they are slightly sandy, buttery, with a hint of citrus. Topped with a melty pool of chocolate that oozes and dribbles on your chin if you eat them while still warm (not that I’d have any experience with such things), they’re an indulgent treat for the season. My newfangled version, either gluten-free or not, as you like, was every bit as delicious as the original (luckily, my guests ate them all, so I wasn’t tempted).
The cookies keep well, and would make a wonderful holiday gift. Something, say, to bring along to a party.
Hazelnut Melting Moments Times Two
Because these beauties are similar to shortbread and not cakelike, they are easily adaptable to gluten free cooking. I’ve made both versions (the GF at my pot luck, and in these photos), and they were a huge hit with everyone.
1/3 cup (60 g) Sucanat or any unrefined evaporated cane juice
1 Tbsp (15 ml) water
2 tsp (10 ml) pure vanilla extract
1/3 cup (80 ml) coconut oil, preferably organic, soft at room temperature (but not melted)
1/4 tsp (1 ml) nutritional yeast, optional (adds a richness to the flavor)
2 tsp (10 ml) lemon or orange zest
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) finely ground chia seeds
1 cup (240 ml) finely ground hazelnuts (filberts), either raw or lightly toasted before grinding*
1-1/4 cups (175 g) light spelt flour or 1 cup plus 2 Tbsp (270 ml) all purpose GF flour (I like Bob’s Red Mill AP flour)*–or use your own favorite combination of gluten free flours
3 oz (85 g) semisweet chocolate chips
Preheat oven to 325F (165C). Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper, or spray with nonstick spray.
In a large bowl, mix together the Sucanat, water and vanilla until the Sucanat begins to dissolve. Add the coconut oil, nutritional yeast, vanilla, lemon zest and chia seeds and mix well.
Remove 2 Tbsp (30 ml) of the ground hazelnuts and set aside in a small bowl. Add the remaining hazelnuts and flour to the bowl and mix well until the dry ingredients are incorporated and you have a stiff dough. Work it with your hands if necessary until the dough holds together (if it is really dry, add up to one more Tbsp or 15 ml of water). The dough should NOT be sticky or too soft.
Using a small scoop or teaspoon, scoop out portions of dough and work them in your hands to create balls. (The GF dough may be too dry to roll it in your palms; I squeezed it in my fist, moving it back and forth from one hand to the other and squeezing it together each time I passed it back and forth, until it held together.) Place the balls about 1-1/2 inches (4 cm) apart on the cookie sheet.
Using your thumb or index finger, press an indentation on the top of each cookie (this may cause the outer edges of the GF cookies to crack or separate; just push them back together with your fingers).
Bake in preheated oven for 15-20 minutes, until golden around the edges. While the cookies bake, melt the chocolate in the top of a double boiler of over extremely low heat, stirring constantly. Fill each indentation with about 1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) melted chocolate, then sprinkle with a bit of the 2 Tbsp (30 ml) of reserved ground hazelnuts. Cool and devour. Makes 12-15 cookies. May be frozen.
* If you’re using metric measures, I apologize for using volume measurements instead of weight for the nuts and flours; my kitchen scale has broken, and I couldn’t wait to post the recipe! Will buy a new scale this weekend.
* Sorry, couldn’t resist. Please feel free to groan.
[A cuppa matcha, pure and straightforward. . . a warm, comforting, health-boosting sip to enjoy daily!]
* * * * For details and to enter the Matcha giveaway, see the end of this post! * * * *
You know, sometimes I actually forget it’s the 21st Century. After all, I’ve spent more of my life before 2000 than since. Yet there’s no doubt that we’ve already lost many 20th Century conventions–handkerchiefs, girdles, bank withdrawal forms. Still, the real changes have all emerged in the realm of communications. When’s the last time you heard of someone receiving a telegram? Or how about rotary telephones–remember how reviled those people were whose numbers contained too many zeroes? And who still writes letters–old-fashioned, pen-and-paper-walk-to-the-mailbox-to-mail-’em letters? They’re more or less obsolete, too.
I do miss letter writing, though. Over the years, I’ve exchanged letters with two devoted correspondents: one was my revered mentor, John Ditsky, whose missives seemed to arrive at my home practically before I’d returned from the mailbox to deposit my own letters to him. The other is my Japanese penpal, Masayo, whom I’ve known since we were both twelve years old.
Back in sixth grade, my school received letters from six Japanese girls seeking Canadian penpals. Ever the nerd (and always interested in writing), I responded to all six. Over the next year, all but one dropped away, and we continued to correspond, at the rate of 2-3 letters per month, for the next 30 years or so.
When we were about 18, Masayo wrote to tell me she had planned a summer vacation in Canada. Of course, I immediately invited her to stay for as long as she liked with me and my family in Montreal (fortunately, this was okay with my parents, too). She was landing in Vancouver on July 12, she wrote back, and would I be so kind as to pick her up at the airport? (for the non-Canadians among you, that’s tantamount to asking someone in New York City to pop over and pick you up at the airport in Los Angeles).
I explained that distances in North America were, perhaps, a tad greater than those on the islands of Japan. Astonished at the possibility, Mako nevertheless arranged for a second flight to Montreal.
[Matcha-Bittersweet Chocolate Truffles: a perfect healthy indulgence!]
On the eve of her arrival, I waited anxiously at the airport with my dad for the plane to disembark. Over the years, of course, I’d seen innumerable photos of Masayo and felt fairly confident I could recognize her in a crowd. My eyes trained on the exit stairs attached to the airplane, I’d stare with steely eyed intensity each time a petite, dark-haired woman emerged from the doors, only to be disappointed as she passed by.
Finally, I heard what seemed like a tiny, disembodied voice calling from somewhere above my field of vision. From within the throng of passengers there stood before me a petite young girl with a mop of wavy black hair, perfectly coiffed in the ultra-hip shag haircut of the day. She wore black Calvin Klein jeans and a screamingly vibrant Hawaiian shirt. As she glided toward us, her dainty feet seemingly floating along the stairs, she called out in her delicate, excited falsetto: “Ricki! It’s Masayo! Ricki!”
We hugged and immediately began to chatter as if we’d known each other our whole lives: How was Vancouver? How was the trip? Do you live far from here? How do you like Canada? Is everything here so big? Is all of Canada this beautiful? I love your shirt! I love yours, too! We continued the gabfest until well past 2:00 AM the next morning, giggling and squealing as we confirmed, in person, a friendship we’d established on paper over the previous six years.
The next day, I knocked on Mako’s door. What followed was a classic ”Who’s on First” exchange.
Me: [knocking on door]: Mako?
Mako: Hi.
Me: Hi, good morning! Is it okay to come in?
Mako: Hi.
Me: Er, hi. Did I wake you?
Mako: Yeah.
Me: Sorry. Is it okay if I open the door?
Mako: Hi.
Me: Hi. Should I wait for you to get dressed?
Mako: Yeah.
Me: Okay. So should I meet you upstairs?
Mako: Hi.
Me: [at a loss] Hi. . .
What I hadn’t realized, you see, was that Mako might still be suffering from jet lag, and too sleepy to remember to translate Japanese into English. And I didn’t know at the time that ”Hai” (sounding like “hi”) in Japanese means “yes” while “Eee-ya” (resembling “yeah”) means “No.”
The trip was, truly, a once in a lifetime experience, and we forged a bond that has lasted until this day. I was thrilled to discover that Mako was witty, upbeat, silly, smart, hip, and fun to be with–all the qualities I loved in my closest friends. She was also incredibly generous, toting a huge sack of gifts for everyone in the family.
[Frozen Matcha Latte--so simple, and so refreshing.]
I was given a purple and indigo kimono (which she helped me to tie in the traditional manner–so much excess cloth!) and a beautiful, delicate and hand-painted porcelain tea set along with a cannister of Japanese tea. I’d never seen tea like that before, light and loose and intensely green. Mako explained that this tea had amazing medicinal properties and that she was wont to drink an entire teapot of the stuff herself in an evening. The first time I brewed the tea for myself, I was surprised anew at how green it was, like a freshly mown lawn in summer. Eventually, I grew to appreciate the slightly bitter, astringent flavor of the matcha, and, before I knew it, the cannister was empty. And while I continued to use the tea service for years afterward (I searched, in vain, to find it for this post; sadly, it is buried under some of the other 57 boxes still unpacked in our basement), I never did buy more Japanese green tea.
This past week, I returned on a wave of sensory memory to that long-ago summer of Masayo’s visit. After receiving a sample pack of tea from Matcha Source, I’ve been once again imbibing the green stuff, as well as cooking with it. I love it as much as I did back then–and this time, I vowed, I won’t let three decades elapse before I buy more!
Pleased with the opportunity to play with some matcha recipes, I decided to use the tea for more than a simple brew (though I do adore the tea on its own). Here’s what I came up with.
If you’ve never experienced matcha green tea before, now’s your opportunity to try it!
Enter the giveawayto win some matcha and a stunning tea kit, by clicking here. And whether you win or not, do give these recipes a try!
Matcha-Bittersweet Chocolate Truffles (based on the Matcha Source Recipe)–and ACD-friendly version
A perfect treat for any chocolate lovers. The pairing of deep, dark bittersweet chocolate and slightly bitter, umami matcha is, unequivocally, one of the most heavenly taste combinations I’ve ever savored. Feel free to adjust the sweetness to your taste–these are deliberately just barely sweet.
1 cup (240 ml) full fat coconut milk
1/4 cup (60 ml) pure maple syrup
2 Tbsp (30 ml) Sucanat (optional)
12 ounces (340 g) good quality bittersweet chocolate (I used 70% cocoa)
1 Tbsp (15 ml) matcha powder, plus more for dusting
pinch fine sea salt
1 tsp (5 ml) pure vanilla extract
In a small, heavy-bottomed pot, place the coconut milk, maple syrup, Sucanat (if using), chocolate, 1 Tbsp (15 ml) matcha powder, and sea salt. Cook over lowest heat possible, stirring constantly, until chocolate is almost completely melted. Remove from heat and continue to stir until chocolate is melted and mixture is smooth. Add vanilla and stir to blend well.
Pour the mixture into a bowl and allow to cool to room temperature. Refrigerate until just solid enough to hold its shape. Using a small scoop or teaspoon, roll mounds of dough into balls and place on a plate covered with plastic wrap. Refrigerate until solid.
Just before serving, sift a bit more matcha powder over the tops. Makes 30-40 truffles. Will keep, covered in the refrigerator, up to 5 days (good luck keeping them that long!).
ACD-Friendly Matcha Chocolate Truffles
10-1/2 ounces (300 g) chopped unsweetened chocolate (I used Cocoa Camino)
3/4 cup (180 ml) full fat coconut milk
1 Tbsp (15 ml) matcha powder
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) pure vanilla extract
10-20 drops stevia liquid, to taste
Matcha powder, for dusting
In a small, heavy-bottomed pot, heat the chocolate, coconut milk, matcha powder, and salt over lowest heat possible until most of the chocolate is melted. Remove from heat, add the vanilla and stevia, and stir until all the chocolate melts and mixture is perfectly smooth. Pour into a bowl and allow to cool to room temperature, then chill until set.
Using a small scoop or teaspoon, roll the mixture into balls (it will begin to melt on your hands). Once rolled, dust the truffles with additional matcha. Chill until ready to serve. Will keep, covered, in refrigerator up to 5 days. Makes 12-20 truffles.
Place all ingredients in a blender and blend until the ice is completely incorporated. (If your blender isn’t strong enough to pulverize all the ice, then strain the mixture through a sieve before drinking). Pour into serving glasses and enjoy immediately. Makes 2 servings.
If you’ve never experienced matcha green tea before, now’s your opportunity to try it!
Although I consider myself a late bloomer in most areas of my life, there’s one event I experienced long before anyone else in my circle of family and friends: the mid-life crisis. In fact, I got mine over with in my early 20s.
I can remember many hours of beer-addled conversation with my beloved mentor in those days, asking the kinds of questions you’d expect from a jaded middle manager in his late 50s rather than a 20-something Master’s student: What is my true calling? Do I really want to do this for the rest of my life? Why are we even here? What is the sound of one hand clapping? And will I ever achieve thinner thighs?
As it turned out, dunno, no, who knows, nothing, and not likely.
Then, when I discovered holistic nutrition and began teaching it and offering cooking classes, I thought I’d solved the crisis. Until this round of the ACD, that is.
But wait! Before I continue, let me pause to issue a heartfelt “thank you” to all of you who read this blog. Thank you for tagging along on this bumpy anti-candida ride. Thank you for your supportive and helpful comments as I traverse the circuitous path toward better health. And thank you for sticking with me, even though this blog seems to have morphed from “Diet, Dessert and Dogs” to “ACD, Stevia and Dogs”–it really doesn’t quite have the same ring to it, does it? (“Well, Mum, at least we are a consistent presence. We hate to break it to you, but most of them are actually here for us, anyway.“) I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you all.
The more I learn about candidiasis and the more I read about the condition, the more I am coming to accept that I will have to follow this diet for a much longer time than first anticipated–a year, at least, perhaps longer. While most people on the program see results and find relief within 3-6 months, there are a few of us who require longer-term dedication (I’m just lucky that way, I guess).
You see, I am what could be termed a “hard case.” A lifelong chocolate/ sugar addict, I am the gastronomic equivalent of a recidivist criminal, one requiring tough, long-term rehabilitation. A culinary kleptomaniac, a pathological liar in the larder, a cereal killer. Until I am better able to handle my confections, you need to lock up the chocolate and throw away the key.
Which brings me to my current mid-life crisis: Will I ever be able to bake again without worrying about consuming the entire recipe? Will I ever get permanent control of this horrid candida? Will I ever have thinner thighs?
For now, I suppose, it’s a moot point, as I am steadfastly following the diet as long as I still exhibit any symptoms. But it’s clear that my love for baking and desserts hasn’t abated in the least; I still crave sweets, even after all this time; and after baking up a batch of this blueberry oatmeal breakfast pudding, I was tempted to eat the entire thing in one sitting.
This is a luxuriously creamy, rich-tasting pudding, the warm berries inside baked to near-bursting. Not too sweet, it fits perfectly at the breakfast table, and would be wonderful topped with some Coconut Whipped Cream or a splash of maple syrup for dessert. Even the HH, who can eat chocolate and sugar with impunity, thoroughly enjoyed two servings after dinner the other night.
As to the Quest for Control Over Sweets, I suppose I’ll just have to keep working on it and hope that, with time, I can grow indifferent to (or, at least, in control of) sugary foods and resolve this crisis as well. For now, I’ll keep seeking healthier desserts and bake as much as I can within the restrictions of the ACD.
Oh, and keep listening for that sound of one oven mitt, clapping against the rack as it removes a hot pan of Blueberry Oatmeal Breakfast Pudding from the oven.
Baked Blueberry Oatmeal Breakfast Pudding
This dish is the result of my playing with Celine’s amazing Baked Apple Pudding recipe, which I made a couple of times and enjoyed immensely. I decided to take Celine’s suggestion and experiment with variations; because I like a slightly lighter, less dense pudding, I added more milk, subbed hazelnuts and cashews for the walnuts and threw in some blueberries.
1/2 cup (75 g) lightly toasted hazelnuts (filberts), with skin
1/2 cup (75 g) lightly toasted cashews
1/2 cup (60 g) old-fashioned rolled oats (not instant)
3/4 cup (180 ml) unsweetened applesauce
2 tsp (10 ml) pure vanilla extract
2 Tbsp (30 ml) agave nectar or maple syrup; or 10 drops stevia liquid
2 tsp (10 ml) cinnamon
1/8 tsp (.5 ml) fine sea salt
1-1/4 cups (300 ml) unsweetened, plain or vanilla soy or almond milk
1/2 cup (120 ml) fresh or frozen blueberries (do not thaw first if frozen)
Preheat oven to 350F (180C). Grease a 4-6 cup (1-1.5 L) casserole dish.
In the bowl of a high-speed blender*, place the nuts, oats, applesauce, vanilla, agave, cinnamon and salt. Pour the milk over all and blend for about a minute, until perfectly smooth and creamy. Pour mixture into the casserole dish, then gently fold in the blueberries (scatter a few extra blueberries over the top if you like, as they won’t sink).
Bake in preheated oven for 40-50 minutes, rotating the casserole about halfway through, until the edges begin to puff and crack and the top appears dry. Allow to cool somewhat before serving; may be served warm or cold. Makes 4-6 servings. Store, covered, up to 4 days in the refrigerator. May be frozen.
*To make with a regular blender: Pour in the milk first, then add the remaining ingredients (except blueberries). You may need to blend in batches to achieve an equally smooth consistency.
[Sometimes, you just want to eat something now. 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 easy to make that no recipe is required. Here's today's "Flash in the Pan." (For other FitP recipes, see "Categories" at right).]
I had hoped to post recipes for both Easter and Passover (occurring only one day apart this year), as a way to help celebrate each. Well, even the best laid plans, as they say. . .
My attempts to perfect the Eggy Soufflé I mentioned earlier were to no avail, yielding truly abysmal results: the interior was too soggy, the crust was too hard, and the poor thing sank like the spirits of a toddler who just learned there’s no Easter Bunny. It does look good, however, so I’m going to keep at it. For the time being, though, scratch that one.
No fear, thought I, there’s still the feast of Passover–and Mock Chopped Liver!
When I was a child, my mom used to make a mock chopped liver from cooked green beans (the canned variety, which were called “French Style Green Beans,” for some reason–did they trill their Rs, or something? Grrrrrrrrrreen beans!). When I found a similar recipe featuring eggplant, I was certain I’d hit upon my holiday jackpot. I roasted the eggplant, scooped the flesh, sautéed the onion, blended the whole mess in the food processor. . . and wound up with a serviceable, if not overly flavorful, eggplant dip. No, not exactly holiday fare. And so, scratch that one, too.
While contemplating dressing The Girls in bunny ears for an Easter shot (definitely scratch that one), I suddenly remembered this magical, ridiculously easy recipe–a Flash in the Pan that I’d actually intended to blog about almost a year ago (complete with original photo). I call this “Chia Tapioca,” and it’s one of my favorite quick desserts. I could eat this pudding almost every day and never tire of it–even when I’m not on the ACD. I like it that much!
If you’re a fan of tapioca pudding, you will adore this dessert. Essentially, all you do is add a liquid to whole chia seeds, allow the mix to sit for 20-30 minutes (or more), then gobble up with a spoon. Because the chia absorbs up to five times its volume, the seeds plump and soften, creating a slightly gel-like pudding base around them. The longer the mixture sits before you eat it, the larger and softer the chia “pearls” become.
You can switch up the flavors by choosing different juices or alternative milks. For instance, the HH prefers his pudding with chocolate almond milk, while my all-time favorite variation is made with strawberry soymilk (which I’m sorely missing at the moment, as it contains sugar).
As a bonus, chia seeds provide an incredible source of Omega 3 fatty acids (as I’ve mentioned before, they’ve overtaken flax as the star in that area), they’re high in protein, and they contain a host of antioxidants. So you can preserve your heart health, decrease inflammation, promote bowel regularity and feed your brain–all while enjoying a delicious, decadent-tasting dessert!
And because chia is a gluten-free seed, it’s also acceptable for Passover. Beauty!
To everyone who’s celebrating this weekend, whether Easter, Passover, or both–enjoy your holiday!
“Elsie, did you see this pudding? I’d dress up in bunny ears for a taste of that. . .”
“Zip it, Chaser, do you want a repeat of our Christmas embarrassment? Just whine a little and look sad, and Mum will give you the pudding anyway.”
Almost Instant Chia “Tapioca” Pudding
This recipe offers the most basic version of this pudding, but variations are endless–add whipped topping, puréed pumpkin or squash, melted chocolate or chocolate chips, shredded coconut, chopped fresh fruit. . . it’s all good!
2 Tbsp (30 ml) whole white chia seeds (the grey are fine, too, but they don’t look as pretty)
1/3 cup to 1/2 cup (80 ml to 120 ml) liquid of choice: plain or flavored soy, almond, rice, hemp, oat, or other milk, or juice
Place chia in a small bowl and add the liquid. Stir well to try to submerge most of the seeds. Allow to sit 20-30 minutes, stirring once after about 5 minutes to prevent clumping. Stir again before serving. Makes one serving.
Note: you can also mix the chia and liquid, cover and refrigerate overnight for a lovely, soft breakfast pudding the next morning.
Anti-Candida Variation: Use unsweetened almond or soy milk with 5-7 drops of stevia for sweetness.
A few of you asked for the Pumpkin Bread Pudding recipe about which I posted yesterday. Since I wasn’t entirely thrilled with the pumpkin bread on its own, and I was most assuredly dissatisfied with the sweetened condensed milk (the base for the caramel sauce) on its own, I hadn’t intended to post the recipe.
But you know what they say about the sum of individual parts. . . despite the haphazard way the dish came together, it ended up being a winner, so I’ll try to reconstruct the recipe here. It was a huge hit and would make a spectacular New Year’s Eve dessert served in wine or martini glasses.
[BIG caveat: I didn't take notes while making this, so you may have to play with proportions a bit, particularly with the caramel sauce. Results may vary.]
Pumpkin Bread Pudding with Warm Caramel Sauce (GF option)
With pumpkin in both the bread and the “custard” in which it bakes, this pudding is definitely rich in pumpkin. Lightly spiced, this moist bread pudding is highlighted with a rum-infused caramel sauce.
For the Bread Pudding:
1 pre-baked pumpkin quick bread, such as the one in Simple Treatsor this or this (for GF) or this (not vegan) or this (I didn’t add raisins or nuts to mine, however)
1/4 cup (60 ml.) old-fashioned rolled oats (not quick or instant)
1/2 cup (120 ml.) packed pumpkin purée (not pie filling)
1 tsp. (5 ml.) pure vanilla extract
1/2 cup (120 ml.) agave nectar, light or dark
1 Tbsp. (15 ml.) organic cornstarch or arrowroot powder
1/8 tsp. fine sea salt
For the Caramel Sauce:
1 recipe of condensed milk (I used agave instead of sugar and almond milk instead of soy)**
about 1/4 cup brown rice syrup
about 1/4 cup coconut oil
2-4 Tbsp. (30-60 ml.) rum, if desired
pinch fine sea salt
Preheat oven to 350 F (180 C). Lightly grease a nonreactive (glass or ceramic) 9-inch (22.5 cm.) square pan or soufflé dish.
Slice the bread into thick slices, about 2 inches (5 cm.) thick. Place on a cookie sheet and bake for about 10 minutes on each side to dry out the bread somewhat (alternately, if you’ve already got stale bread–great!). Cool the bread and break it into bite-sized chunks; place in a large bowl.
In a blender, grind the oats until they are the consistency of a coarse meal. Add the remaining ingredients and blend until smooth. Pour the mixture over the bread in the bowl, pushing the bread down with the back of a spoon so that all pieces are submerged. Allow to sit 20-30 minutes, pressing the bread back down occasionally, until the bread is completely soaked through (there may still be liquid left in the bottom of the bowl; this is fine).
When the bread is all soaked, spoon the mixture into the prepared pan, and smooth the top as best you can.
Bake in preheated oven 40-50 minutes, until puffed and browned on top and a knife inserted in the centre comes out wet but clean. Allow to cool at least 10 minutes before serving. Serve warm with caramel sauce, at room temperature, or cold. Makes 8-12 servings.
Caramel Sauce:
Follow directions for sweetened condensed milk, cooking until the milk is reduced to 1 cup. Add remaining ingredients and heat over medium-low heat until the mixture starts to bubble; then continue to cook for another 5-10 minutes until the sauce is thick and has darkened. To test if it’s ready, pour about a teaspoon of the sauce into a small, chilled bowl. If it thickens to the desired consistency, it’s ready; if it’s still too thin, cook and stir another 5-10 minutes. Pour over warm pumpkin bread pudding.
**Note: I used the condensed milk as the base for caramel sauce because I’d already made it for another purpose, and wasn’t happy with the result for that recipe. . . so decided to turn it into caramel sauce. Of course, you could just use ready-made sauce, or any other recipe for caramel sauce if you prefer. [UPDATE, November 2011: it appears that the original recipe I linked to is no longer available, so I've linked to a recent recipe I found on the internet. Worth a try!].
[There's just nothing like a homemade gift for the holidays. This year, with the purse strings a little tighter than usual, I'm determined to make at least a few in my kitchen--and thought I'd share my ideas in case you'd like to partake, too. ]
Isn’t synchronicity the darndest thing? You know, that phenomenon when things just seem to occur around the same time. . . because. . . well, just because. Like when you learn a new word, and suddenly “schadenfreude“ seems to pop up in all the newspapers you read. Or “pecuniary” makes its appearance in every magazine article you see about the faltering economy. Save money with a “stay-cation”? It was mentioned at least once on every financial-advice show that aired in the past week. (And how about antediluvian, lachrymose, arachibutyrophobia? Okay, maybe not so much.)
I love synchronicity; I figure it’s the closest I’ll ever get to having intuition. Years ago, during a carefree Christmas shopping spree (entirely unlike this year, what with all the pecuniary limitations to my budget), I was meandering along a downtown Toronto street engrossed in a lachrymose daydream, probably about being bullied in gradeschool. For some unknown reason, I remembered a former classmate, and wondered what had become of her. In the midst of my reverie, there came from behind me a sudden, staccato warbling, like the sound an antique radio makes when being tuned: ”Ricki?! Eeeeoooooouuuuwwww! RICKI HELLER, is that you–??”
Yep, you guessed it: that very classmate, whom I hadn’t seen in over 30 years. We hugged, we excitedly exchanged updates on our lives, we traded phone numbers and swore to keep in touch–then never heard from each other again. But that sure was some synchronicity in action!
If you’ve ever thought about someone you haven’t seen in a while, only to receive a phone call from them that day; if you’ve ever had a dream about finding a $20 bill and later picked up a stray piece of paper in a parking lot that happened to be a $20 bill; if you’ve ever loved a novel by a particular author and then happened to be seated next to that author on your next flight across the country; if you’ve ever been reminded of an old love while surfing the internet only to discover the profile of said love on your Classmates page–well, if you’ve ever experienced a seemingly unrelated coexistence of two meaningfully related things in any context at all, then you, too, have experienced synchronicity. And last weekend, there it was again!
In my previous Gastronomic Gift post last week, I mentioned a pioneer of the now-booming Toronto culinary scene, Bonnie Stern. That long-ago (seems positively antediluvian, in fact) cooking class was my only encounter with Ms. Stern in person; and her recipe for Brandied Apricot-Ginger Spread was, it turns out, the only recipe of hers I’ve ever reproduced at home.
Until now.
Why, just this past weekend, there she was again, peering out at me from the crinkled pages of our weekend National Post! Not only that; in the photo, she proffered some startlingly attractive shortbread cookies: rich, buttery freeform mounds topped with shards of Toblerone chocolate bars. I decided on the spot that I had to re-create those bars, but what to use instead of the Toblerone? I wanted something similar–a mix of chocolate and a sweet filling–but nothing quite as sticky (and nothing producing any arachibutyrophobia, of course). Aha! Marzipan-filled Ritter Sport!
In response to Amanda’s comment in the last post, I used my own Life in Balance Buttery Spread in place of the butter in these cookies. The result was a slightly-sandy-on-the-outside, slightly-chewy-on-the-inside, not-too-sweet and very decadent-tasting cookie. And while they don’t melt in your mouth like tradtional shortbread, the combination of rich dough and chunks of chocolate-covered marzipan is truly enchanting. The HH said he thought they weren’t “really” like shortbread as they didn’t taste “buttery” enough, but that didn’t stop him from scarfing down three of these babies in quick succession.
And while this recipe is a bit more decadent than my usual baked good, hey, it’s the holidays! Gotta live a little. Which, of course, will lead to the inevitable overindulging and weight gain. . . so as you bake up your own batch of these, you can think of me, smile, and enjoy a satisfying little taste of schadenfreude.
“Mum, you know your readers would never do that! Besides, I think I’ve had enough schadenfreude to last a lifetime, what with Chaser smirking at my cone over the past three weeks.”
Oh, and since these are intended as a holiday gift, after all, I thought they’d be a perfect submission to the Eat Christmas Cookies event hosted by Food Blogga this month. There’s already a huge array of cookies posted on the site for you to check out!
And since Holler and Lisa are asking for festive photos this month for their No Croutons Required event, I’m going to submit this Santa-bordered photo as my contribution as well.
Marzipan-Topped Shortbread Cookies
You needn’t stick with marzipan chocolates for these cookies; in fact, they’d be great with many other kinds of chocolate bar–the Ritter Sport Peppermint comes to mind.
1 cup (250 ml.) homemade buttery spread, coconut oil, or other buttery spread of your choice
1/2 cup (90 g.) Sucanat
1/2 tsp. (2.5 ml.) pure vanilla extract
1/4 tsp. (1 ml.) pure almond extract, optional
1-3/4 cups ( 245 g.) light spelt flour
1/4 cup (40 g.) brown rice flour
2 (6 ounces or 200 g.) Ritter Sport Marzipan chocolate bars (or 6 ounces/200 g. chocolate of your choice)
Preheat oven to 325 F. Line 2 cookie sheets with parchment paper, or spray with nonstick spray.
Carefully cut the chocolate bars into squares. Take 13 squares and cut them diagonally in half, creating 26 triangles (these will be used to decorate the tops of the cookies). Chop the remaining chocolate and set aside.
Combine the buttery spread, Sucanat, vanilla and almond extract in the bowl of a food processor and process until very smooth and creamy, and until the Sucanat has dissolved.
Add the spelt flour and rice flour and pulse until the mixture comes together as a soft dough. Scrape down sides of processor and incorporate any leftover flour into the dough. Remove the blade and gently stir the chopped chocolate into the dough.
Using a small ice cream scoop or tablespoon, roll mounds of dough into balls and place about 1 inch (2.5 cm.) apart on cookie sheets. Flatten slightly with the palm of your hand, then press a triangle of chocolate into the top of each one (if you have any leftover triangles, this is a good time to pop them in your mouth).
Bake in preheated oven for 25-35 minutes, rotating the cookie sheet once about halfway through, until the cookies are golden brown on the edges. Allow to cool for 5 minutes before removing to a rack to cool completely. Makes 24-26 cookies. May be frozen.
[There's just nothing like a homemade gift for the holidays. This year, with the purse strings a little tighter than usual, I'm determined to make at least a few in my kitchen--and thought I'd share my ideas in case you'd like to partake, too. ]
Back in the day (haven’t you always wondered about that expression? I mean, which day?), I used to bake entirely conventional, non-vegan, sweets and treats. As a graduate student with a job as a Teaching Assistant as well as a scholarship, I was lucky enough to have both a flexible schedule and sufficient finances to indulge my love of culinary invention. My favorites at the time were cheesecakes, light and fluffy (and, in particular, a chocolate chip cookie dough cheesecake–yep, studded with globs of raw chocolate-chip cookie dough), whipped cream-topped layer cakes or pavlovas, and thick, dense, decadent brownies of all spots and stripes (top contender there was an intensely dark chocolate brownie with hidden pockets of Caramilk chocolate bar strewn throughout–cut the brownie and be treated to surprising little bursts of oozy, gooey caramel, enveloped in creamy milk chocolate. . . there must be a way to do this in a [semi?] NAG-friendly version!).
In any case, what I really loved was baking for the holidays. Between studying for finals, I’d take breaks by whipping up assorted cookies and bars, and filling dainty, decorative tins with dozens of them as Christmas gifts for my friends and colleagues. It was a fun challenge to find 12-15 recipes for cookies in differing flavors, textures, shapes or colors, so that the varying hues and contours complemented each other visually when placed together like pieces of a mosaic in the tins. Most years, I went so far as to draw a legend on a circle of paper (placed atop the cookies before closing the tin), like the kind you get in boxes of mixed chocolates, illustrating each different flavor and shape so people would know in advance what they chose (can you say, “anal”?).
Even though my schedule isn’t nearly as flexible any more (not to mention my hip joints), I decided that this year, I really wanted to resurrect that tradition for the holidays. And while cookies are still on the list, I’m going to focus more on slightly less perishable items, so that I (and you) can send these goodies to loved ones far away, or as parting gifts with visitors who pop in over the next few weeks.
One thing I’ve never made as a gift, though, is fudge. When the HH and I were first together, we once took a weekend junket to Niagara-on-the-Lake (not far from the Canadian side of Niagra Falls) to trundle around and see a play at the Shaw Festival. Well, I said I was going for the play, anyway. What I really looked forward to was a visit to a little candy shop that’s become semi-famous for its fudge. Have you ever tried fresh, satiny homemade fudge, like, 30 seconds after it’s set?
Oh.
MY.
They say chocolate is better than sex, but really, chocolate fudge is even better than chocolate.
Still, I’m aware that no self-respecting holistic nutritionist or health-conscious foodie would foist fudge on friends (and no self-respecting writer would pen such an obviously hokey alliteration!) Craving all that is chocolate, smooth, and fondant-like, I sought out a healthier version–but one that would still embody the same indulgent, creamy, and, most importantly, chocolate–qualities of “real” fudge.
Well, I’ve found it! Today’s recipes are both based on a Carob Fudge I saw ages ago on Deb’s blog. I’ve been waiting to try it since then, and this seemed the perfect occasion. Of course, since I can’t even imagine a non-chocolate variety, I played with the recipes somewhat and created not one, but two cacao-flavored versions. The first is orange-scented, studded with tangy bits of chopped dried apricot, while the other is draped over clusters of mixed nuts and dropped into little truffle cups to serve as individual candies. I have no doubt that whomever you choose to bestow these upon, they will devour them most gratefully. Perhaps best of all, this is incredibly quick to make!
“Mum, we love the idea of food-based gifts for the holidays! But why did you take out the carob–now we can’t have any. . . ”
I’d also love to hear what you’re whipping up this year as gifts. Do you have any old favorites, or perhaps some newfound treasures? Leave a comment (or a link to a recipe) so we can all increase our gift-giving repertoire!
Smooth, rich and as dense as cream-based fudge, these squares are a perfect post-prandial sweet to help settle a meal (or, in my case, the final course of the meal itself).
1-1/2 cups (255 g.) dark chocolate chips (the barley-sweetened type work well here, too)
1/2 cup (120 ml.) all-natural cashew-macadamia nut butter (I just mixed half of each type together in a bowl)
1/3-1/2 cup (80-120 ml.) agave nectar, depending on desired level of sweetness (I used 1/2 cup)
1 tsp. (5 ml.) pure vanilla extract
grated zest of one orange
1/2 cup ( g.) finely chopped dried apricots
Lightly grease a 9 x9 inch (20 cm.) square pan, or line with parchment paper.
In a glass or metal bowl set over a pot of simmering water, melt the chocolate chips. Mix in the nut butter until smooth; remove from heat. Add the agave, vanilla and orange zest, and stir until combined. The mixture should thicken up a bit as you stir.
Spread in prepared pan and smooth the top. Chill until set (2-3 hours), then cut into squares. Wrap in plastic before packaging as gifts. Makes 12-25 squares, depending on how small you cut them. Bonus: this may be frozen! Defrost in fridge overnight.
Fudge Nut Clusters (variation)
These little confections are perfect to serve at tea or on a dessert tray for a buffet celebration.
Line about 15-20 mini-muffin tins with foil liners.
Prepare chocolate fudge as above, omitting the apricots and orange zest. Place a small spoonful of mixed nuts (I used chopped almonds, hazelnuts, pecans and walnuts) in the bottom of each cup; drop spoonfuls of still-warm fudge mixture over each, and allow the fudge to sink down to the bottom of the cup to create a mound of nutty fudge candy. Top with extra fudge mixture if necessary to fill the cups and cover the nuts.
Gastronomic Gifts III: Marzipan-Topped Shortbread **Note: the original recipe was somehow transcribed incorrectly–please use the current version with the correct amount of flour!!
