Pretty much anyone who knows me from this blog (or anywhere else) knows that I don’t consume refined sugar. In fact, since I started the anti-candida diet in March, 2009, I’ve abstained from almost all sweeteners, refined or otherwise. (I’ve also abstained from about 1,182 other foods that are verboten on the ACD, but that’s a whole other kettle of seaweed. )
Given my sugar-free stance, I was very excited when Hallie and Lexie revealed the theme for this week’s posts in their New Year, New You event: “Swap the Sweeteners”! The event takes place each Thursday this month and is designed to share tips and tricks to help you initiate–and maintain–healthful changes this year. Previous topics include Eat More Produce and Snack Smart. Be sure to check out Hallie’s post today to see what she baked up (yum!) and to enter to win a fabulous package of natural sweeteners, including stevia, agave nectar, unsulphured molasses and raw natural honey!
Looking to Swap Out the Sugar? Here Are My Favorite Naturally Low-Glycemic Alternatives.
Though the ACD prohibits most sweeteners, there are a few permitted (and thank goodness for that!). Here are my top picks for low glycemic sweeteners that you can use while fighting candida (or any time you wish to replace cane sugar with a healthier option).
It seems that the popularity of stevia has really exploded over the past year or so. This zero calorie, zero glycemic sweetener is my all-time favorite, and I continue to use it pretty much daily as my sweetener of choice. I’ve already written at length about this all-natural herbal sweetener, so I’ll direct you to this post to learn more.
How to Swap It: Remember that stevia can be up to 100 times sweeter than sugar, so it’s difficult to use as a replacement for all the sugar in a recipe (you’ll be swapping out perhaps 1/2 cup (120 ml) for just 1/8 of a teaspoon (0.5 ml)stevia, for instance, which would alter both the chemical makeup and consistency of your final product). After years of experimentation, I’ve found a few ways to use stevia successfully in baked goods. For my latest favorite, see the recipe at the end of this post.
This dark, thick and sticky syrup is derived from the yacon plant, a tuberous plant from the Andes region. It registers low on the glycemic index (reports range from zero to 28), so it’s recommended for Type II diabetics (listen up, Paula Deen!) or anyone seeking to cut back on sugars. With a texture and flavor similar to molasses (and, I find, with a slightly fermented flavor), yacon can be used in place of other sweeteners.
How to Swap It: Because of its fairly prominent flavor and not-too-sweet taste, I tend to use yacon along with another sweetener in baking; it works especially well with carob, cocoa or winter spices, the flavors of which are assertive enough to stand up to the yacon.
Another instantly-popular newcomer to the realm of natural sweeteners, coconut sugar and coconut syrup, extracted from the coconut palm flower, are natural, minimally processed sweeteners that have been used for ages in Southeast Asian countries; the sugar is sometimes known as jaggery. Both are low on the glycemic index (around 35), with a rich, butterscotch or caramel flavor; coconut sugar also contains a good amount of potassium and Vitamin C. I love the taste of coconut sugar as well as the depth it adds to baked goods.
How to Swap It: Coconut sugar can be used one-for-one instead of regular sugar; the syrup can be used as well, but you’ll need to adjust the levels of liquids and dry ingredients to compensate. I often use coconut syrup in non-baked desserts such as ice creams, fudge, or truffle balls.
[Mint Chip Ice Cream acquires part of its sweetness from pear purée (no ice cream maker required!)]
Fruits (Stage 2 and beyond):
One of the best ways to replace sugar in your baking and cooking is to use fruit purées instead. My favorite choice is dried dates (simply soak for 10 minutes in boiling water, drain and blend to a paste in your food processor); prunes (aka dried plums) work equally well. However, since I’m not permitted dates on the anti-candida diet, I’ve turned to other fruits for that purpose. I find that pear purée works wonders to add sweetness and binding power to baked goods; and its mild flavor won’t overpower other ingredients in your recipe. Applesauce is more commonly used, and works very well, too.
How to Swap It: As a rule, you’ll need to reduce both your liquid ingredients and your sugar to swap it for fruit. However, note that the texture may be altered as well. Normally you can replace up to 1/3 cup (80 ml) of sugar with fruit and achieve good results.
Although I’m now able to use coconut sugar in baking, I decided to create a recipe for today’s post sweetened only with stevia so that anyone could enjoy it, whether or not they’re allowed higher glycemic sweeteners. I’ve also used psyllium husks as a binder for the first time, after seeingseveralrecipes with it recently on various blogs I read. I had some psyllium already in my pantry from a raw foods class I took a while back (it’s a fairly common ingredient among those who eat live foods), so it seemed the perfect time to start playing with it in the kitchen.
It took a couple of tries, but I finally found the correct ratio to produce a tasty bread that binds well without xanthan gum. As a bonus, the only fat in this loaf is from the nuts and nut butter–no added oils. The version with quinoa is higher protein (always a good thing for a vegan bread), but I have to admit I preferred the flavor of the amaranth,which offers a more delicate crumb. While it’s not terribly sweet, the flavor is subtle and pleasing–a perfect bread for breakfast or snacking.
The HH has been munching on this for breakfast the past week and seems blissfully unaware that he’s eating something “healthy.” And I’m entirely delighted that I could swap his regular Tim Horton’s muffin for a treat that’s actually good for him!
Don’t forget to enter the giveaway over at Hallie’s! And here are this week’s other participants to offer more tips on swapping out the sugar:
Despite what looks like a long ingredient list, this is really an easy bread to make. Its light, moist crumb will remind you of muffins, but it’s a bit more sturdy and a bit less sweet. . . perfect with nut butter for breakfast, or even as a means to sop up some heart, savory soup.
1/4 tsp (1 ml) pure stevia powder or liquid, to your taste
1/3 cup (40 g) lightly toasted walnut pieces or chopped walnuts
Preheat oven to 350F (180C). Lightly grease a regular loaf pan, or line with parchment paper.
Place the psyllium husks, apple cider vinegar, vanilla and almond butter in a glass measuring cup. Add enough milk to reach the 1-1/2 cup (360 ml) mark. Using a small whisk or fork, whisk everything together until the almond butter is well dissolved in the liquid and no lumps remain. Set aside while you measure the dry ingredients.
In a large bowl, sift together all remaining ingredients except for the walnuts. Whisk well to distribute all the ingredients evenly. Add the walnuts.
Whisk the liquid again to ensure that it’s smooth and everything is incorporated, then pour the wet mixture over the dry ingredients and stir just to combine (do not overmix!). Turn the mixture into the prepared pan and smooth the top.
Bake in preheated oven for 65-75 minutes, rotating the pan about halfway through, until the bread is well browned on the bottom and sides, and the top springs back when touched lightly (there will be a fairly thick crust by this time, but it should still spring back). A knife inserted in the center should come out moist but clean.
Allow to cool for 10 minutes, then remove from pan allow to cool completely before slicing. The bread is very moist on the first day and dries a bit by the second. Store, tightly wrapped, in the refrigerator up to 3 days, or freeze for later. Makes one medium loaf, or 8-10 slices.
The quaint old notion of friends “dropping in” for a visit seems to have disappeared somewhere around the same time as shoulder pads, Eight Tracks, or Electric Light Orchestra.
When I was a child, my mother and her friends would pop over to each other’s homes at a moment’s notice, stopping by without any embellishment (never any makeup, and sometimes still in their slippers and “housedresses,” which were basically just glorified pyjamas). Because, after all, it was just mom and the kids, and for whom would they need to get all decked out, anyway, if the men weren’t around?
In those days, people lived closer together, women were friends with their neighbors, coffee was always on, and there was invariably something home-baked on the counter. Mom’s best friend–who also happened to be her cousin–lived only 3 blocks away. Ms. Cuz could call up at 9:20 AM and be at our house by 9:40. In the interim, my mother would put up a fresh pot of coffee and get a cake mixed and into the oven. By the time Cuzzy arrived, the cake would be just about ready to come out of the oven; the women would sit down, light up a cig, pour a cup of coffee and catch up on respective kids and husbands–and by then it was time for cake.
Nowadays, it seems, that’s all changed. Everything in our lives is faster, everything requires instant gratification and everything is immediate–everything, that is, except human contact. I mean, you know it’s gotten bad when couples have to make an appointment just to have a date with each other. Gah!
A while back , I was asked by Marly of Namely Marly to join today’s “Our Panera’s Gluten Free Dream Day” event, which she co-created with Allyson of Manifest Vegan. The idea was to create a gluten free (and in my case, sugar free, egg free and dairy free) baked good based on something from the Panera menu. Well, needless to say, I was totally chuffed and couldn’t wait to get started! I took a gander through the online list and immediately hit upon “Cinnamon Crumb Coffee Cake.”
Why did I choose this particular cake? Well, it was one of my mom’s specialities when I was a kid, and even just thinking about it brought back a flood of memories. My parents played cards every weekend with a group of friends, and when it was my mom’s turn to hostess, she always baked at least two sweet offerings for the socializing portion of the evening, after the game. Without fail, the table held her “famous” Chiffon Cake, often paired with Farmer’s Cheesecake or perhaps fancy cookies, or–this coffee cake.
Well, okay, not exactly “this” coffee cake. My mom’s version was made with white (wheat) flour, white sugar, eggs, and Crisco shortening. It became a staple in my own home when I first moved out on my own, because it was cheap to make, tasted good, and could go from “idea-in-your-head” to “slice-on-your-plate” in under 30 minutes.
My modernized, gluten-free, sugar-free, vegan, ACD-friendly version is perfectly compatible with today’s fast-paced lifestyle, however. As soon as you hang up from that impromptu invitation you issued to your neighbor, just start on the cake. This one takes a wee bit longer to execute than my mom’s–40 minutes versus my mom’s 30–but these days, it will take your friend that long to drive from her place over to yours, anyway.
When she arrives, be sure to offer her some cake.
“Mum, you know that Chaser and I could get there much faster than that if you ever invited us over for cake. And we won’t need to put on makeup first, either.”
Cinnamon Crumb Cake (Gluten Free, Sugar Free, Anti-Candida, Vegan; can be nut-free)
This quick and easy cake will impress your guests with its light, delicate crumb and cinnamon-walnut center and topping. Perfect for impromptu visitors or just an afternoon snack.
For the Topping/Filling:
1/3 cup (80 ml) whole rolled oats (not instant or quick-cook)
1/3 cup (80 ml) coconut sugar
1/4 cup (60 ml) coconut flour
1 Tbsp (15 ml) cinnamon
pinch fine sea salt
1/2 cup (55 g) walnut pieces or coarsely chopped walnuts**
2 Tbsp (30 ml) coconut oil
For the cake:
1/2 cup (120 ml) unsweetened applesauce
1 Tbsp (15 ml) finely ground flax seeds
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) apple cider vinegar
20-30 drops plain or vanilla stevia liquid, to your taste
1/3 cup (80 ml) coconut sugar
1 cup (240 ml) unsweetened plain or vanilla soy, almond or rice milk
1/3 cup (80 ml) sunflower or other light-tasting oil, preferably organic
1-1/2 Tbsp (1 Tbsp plus 1-1/2 tsp, or 22.5 ml) baking powder
1/4 tsp (1 ml) baking soda
1-3/4 tsp (8.5 ml) xanthan gum
1/4 tsp (1 ml) fine sea salt
Preheat oven to 350F (180C). Line an 8-inch (20 cm) square pan with parchment, or spray with nonstick spray.
Make the topping: In a medium bowl, combine the oats, coconut sugar, coconut flour, cinnamon and salt. Stir to combine. Add the coconut oil and pinch the mixture between your thumb and fingers until it’s evenly moistened and crumbly. Add the walnuts and toss to combine. Set aside.
Make the cake: In a small bowl, whisk together the applesauce, flax, vinegar, stevia, coconut sugar, soymilk, oil, vanilla and lemon extract. Set aside while you measure the dry ingredients, or at least 2 minutes.
In a medium bowl, sift together the all purpose flour, baking powder, soda, xanthan gum and salt. Add the wet ingredients to the dry and whisk just until blended (do not overmix!).
Spread about half the batter in the bottom of the pan (you can measure it, or just estimate). Sprinkle with about half the topping mixture. Scooping out heaping tablespoonsful of the remaining batter, dot the top of the cake with the rest of the batter in spoonfuls, covering as much as you can. Use the back of the spoon to carefully spread the top layer of batter evenly over the cake, filling any spaces as best you can. Sprinkle with the remainder of the topping, covering the batter as evenly as possible (it’s okay if there are a few blank spots here and there). Press the topping lightly into the top of the cake.
Bake for 30-35 minutes, rotating the pan about halfway through, until a tester inserted in the middle of the cake comes out clean. Cool at least 20 minutes before serving. Makes 9 large or 12 more reasonable servings. May be frozen.
**Note: I’ve made the cake nut-free by simply removing the walnuts–it worked beautifully! It will bake up a little faster, but that’s the only difference I noticed.
Here’s a list of the entire group of bloggers (and their recipes) who are part of today’s Dream Day (recipes will appear during the day):
Today marks only a few days before the start of Passover, and Easter is right around the next corner–it’s time to cook for the holidays! Since the HH and I are invited to a friend’s house for a seder this year (and since her niece is a vegetarian), I decided to bring a dish that normally makes an appearance on Passover tables: chopped liver. My version, of course, is “mock.”
So you might be wondering, “what is a self-professed meat-refusenik doing posting yet another faux meat recipe on this blog? Like, the sixthoneI’veposted so far?”
Well, believe it or not, this time I’m not creating a vegan version of a meat I ate as a kid; this spread is the very same one that my mother made for us countless times when I was young, despite her having an unlimited supply of meat available via My Dad the Butcher (I told you she was a closet vegetarian).
I seem to remember this Mock Chopped Liver recipe originating from a cookbook Mom had called Second Helpings, Please!,but when I leafed through my old copy, I couldn’t find it. I did find a remarkably similar version to the one I remember on Nava Atlas’s Veg Kitchen site, however. Nava’s version seems to be almost identical to my mom’s, with two important differences: my mother’s used canned green beans instead of fresh (in particular, a type called “French Cut,” which was specified in her recipe); and whereas Nava uses cashews, my mom used walnuts. I decided to split the difference and use half of each type of nut (and walnuts result in a deeper brown color than cashews, more like the authentic spread).
Whether
Whether or not you like (or have even ever tasted) chopped liver, this spread is a perfect topping for crackers, celery sticks or collard leaves–but, unfortunately, not matzo. You see, my good intentions were dashed when I realized that beans are not allowed at Passover–and the main ingredient in this spread is beans! (If you observe Passover, you can try this other mock chopped liver on Nava’s site, which uses mushrooms instead).
To the HH, who grew up on liverwurst, this spread tastes “nothing like real liver.” And yet, it looks eerily like the “real thing,” with the same rich, smooth flavor imparted by onions, fried until caramelized (the hallmark of chopped liver).
And since it is the holidays with both Passover and Easter falling within days of each other, I’m also including a quick reference list of some holiday-themed recipes for those of you still thinking about what to cook (see bottom of this post).
And don’t forget, you can still find dishes for a full holiday menu in the Anti Candida Feastebook (the nutroast is perfect for Easter) as well as many grain-free, Passover-friendly desserts in Desserts without Compromise.
I thought this spread would be a perfect submission for Diane’s Real Food Weekly event–all real ingredients, of course!
Mock Chopped Liver (suitable for ACD Stage 1 and beyond)
Whether or not you like the “real thing,” this is a great spread for sandwiches, crackers, or veggies. I’ve added paprika and walnuts to the original recipe and decided to stick with the canned beans for a more authentic hue, but feel free to use freshly steamed if you prefer.
2 Tbsp (30 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
2 medium onions, coarsely chopped
1 can (19 ounces or 400 ml) cooked green beans, well drained
2/3 cup (160 ml) lightly toasted cashews, walnuts or combination (I used 1/3 cup/80 ml of each)
1 tsp (5 ml) Bragg’s liquid aminos or soy sauce (for ACD, use Bragg’s)
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) paprika
salt and pepper, to taste
sliced green onion for garnish, if desired
Heat the oil in a nonstick frypan and add the onions; fry over medium-low heat, stirring frequenty, until they are well browned and beginning to caramelize, 10-15 minutes. Meanwhile, place all the remaining ingredients in the bowl of a food processor.
Once the onions are done, add them to the processor and blend until everything is smooth. Scrape into a bowl or container and allow to cool to room temperature before servings. Garnish with green onions, if desired. Makes about 2 cups (480 ml). Store, covered, in the refrigerator up to 4 days.
LAST MINUTE HOLIDAY RECIPE SUGGESTIONS:
I’ve designated each recipe with B (either Passover or Easter) or E (Easter only).
Appetizers and H’ors D’oeuvres:
(E) Carrot Pâté ( Pâté is GF; for ACD version, use apple cider vinegar)
Yes, all you Frosty-philes, I know all the ways I am supposed to “learn” to enjoy winter. I own top-notch, thinsulate-lined boots and long underwear. I wear Arctic-approved gloves and earmuffs. I wrap my scarf around my face in a manner reminiscent of a Brendan Fraser movie villain. I have tried skating, cross-country skiing and snowshoeing (forget about downhill–I can barely stay upright on the snowshoes). I drink cocoa, eat soup, wear sweaters, use flannel and snuggle with my HH throughout the season. I will always appreciate summer (with all of my heart) and don’t need no stinkin’ winter to provide contrast, thank you very much. And Canadian? Shmamadian! I must have missed the “I love winter” genes.
In fact, the only teeny, tiny, miniscule bit of positive I can find in the Dreaded Season of Ice and Snow is that it looks pretty. For about 48 seconds.
And after that, it sucks.
So, suffice it to say that
I.
Hate.
Winter.
I despise the cold, I dread the slush, I abhor the ice, I shun the snow, I resent having to scrape the rime off my car windows, I can’t stand that it takes longer to get dressed for a dog walk than it does for the actual dog walk, I loathe being chilly even indoors, I curse that my glasses fog up, I begrudge having to wear a hat and the resulting hat-head, I detest that I have to watch where I walk or risk slipping and breaking a hip.
And I really, really, do not like it.
Hate or not, however, I live in Toronto, which has cold, snowy winters. Except for the saving grace of The Girls romping and gamboling in the snow whenever we get to the trail for a walk, I’d probably just stay inside for four months. If there is a visual expression of the word, “elation,” Chaser and Elsie, playing in the snow, is it.
“Thanks, Mum! We really have fun over there. And we appreciate that you take us every day even though you hate it. But you really should get down on the ground and wrestle with us. I bet you would enjoy winter much more that way.”
[It's rich and smooth, but coconut is not the most prominent flavor.]
Luckily, around Christmas time (one of the other few bright spots in the season), I discovered Peppermint Bark from Heather (of the legendary Heather Eats Almond Butter blog). My first attempt at the recipe followed Heather’s own almost exactly, and I posted it on my Facebook Page.
And yes, this is a dessert. Did you think I’d stop making (and eating) them after my recent whinge about gaining weight? Mais, pas de tout! No, I have not eliminated the sweet stuff (made with stevia) from my menus. In fact, I feel that I need to keep such treats in my diet now more than ever, if I am truly going to learn to tap into the physical messages of hunger and satiation. I’ll continue to eat all kinds of foods, in moderation, and redouble my efforts to stop and think–and pay attention–before I eat (and I’ll be chronicling my progress in that area as well; more on that coming up).
Since I first tried the recipe, I’ve continued to play with it, as I found the taste of concentrated coconut butter a bit much for my palate. I added some nuts and spices to create a firm-at-room-temperature, solid-when-refrigerated, impossible-to-resist version of chocolate bark, yet without any chocolate (of course, if you’re not limiting the stuff as I am, you can always sub chocolate or cacao nibs for the carob).
When the texture is refined in the blender, as I’ve done here, it becomes smooth, creamy and melty in the way that a good quality chocolate bar is melty. Even the HH proclaimed this to be a great snack (as he bit into his fourth piece). However, this bark is more akin to one made from white chocolate, with some additional goodies thrown in. It’s also a perfect high-energy snack or dessert, or a little sweet treat to set out on a tray when you’ve got people over on the weekend.
Because, you know, you won’t be going out much now that it’s winter.
This recipe is linked up to Amy’s weekly event, Slightly Indulgent Tuesdays. Check out all the other goodies over there (or submit your own), too!
[Freeform marbled pattern courtesy of natural coconut oils from the coconut, after they are chilled.]
Cinnamon Spiced Coconut Bark (ACD stage 1 and beyond)
This bark makes a great substantial snack. By blending the coconut with the nuts until perfectly smooth, you are, in effect, mixing coconut butter with your nut butter, which will allow the mixture to retain its shape at room temperature. Containing healthy fats and a good protein content, this bark will satisfy your sweet tooth while tiding you over to the next meal. It’s good enough that you can serve it to friends, whether or not they follow a special diet.
1/2 cup (85 g) lightly toasted natural almonds (with skin)
20-30 drops plain or vanilla stevia liquid, to your taste
1-1/2 tsp (7.5 ml) cinnamon
1 Tbsp (15 ml) carob powder
1/4 tsp (1 ml) cardamom
3/4 tsp (3.5 ml) ground ginger
1/4-1/3 cup (60-80 ml) unsweetened carob chips, unsweetened chocolate or cacao nibs, chopped
Line a loaf pan with plastic wrap and set aside.
Place all ingredients except carob chips in a food processor and process until smooth and almost liquid (as if making nut butter). This will take up to 10 full minutes; scrape the sides occasionally as you do so. If you are okay with a fairly crunchy bark, you may omit the next step.
Next, for a smooth and creamy textured bark (this is what I did), place the already-pourable mixture into a high powered blender and blend until perfectly smooth and silky, so that no traces of coconut texture are visible (if you don’t have a high-powered blender, you can probably do this in small batches; transfer the batches to a medium bowl after each one). Once the mixture is perfectly smooth, transfer it to a medium bowl.
If the mixture is warm (it will likely get heated up from friction in the processor and blender), place it in the refrigerator and cool it to room temperature, stirring every 10 minutes or so (it will take about 30 minutes). Once it’s cooled, stir in the chopped carob chips. If you add them while the mixture is warm, the chips will simply melt and you’ll have carob bark, which is okay, too. Turn the mixture into the loaf pan and smooth the top.
Refrigerate or freeze until firm. Remove the bark by inverting the pan over a cutting board. Peel off the plastic and cut into desired shapes. Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator. Makes about 12 servings. May be frozen.
[This year, I decided to offer a "Festive Freebies" series in which I give away some of my favorite food products. . . hand-picked by me! These are things I already love and actually eat (or use) regularly, and which I'd love to share with you. Here's my fourth Festive Freebie--click here to enter!]
All the way from Australia–our winner is SUSAN from Kittens Gone Lentil! Here’s Susan’s comment:
The book I am most keen to get my hands on at the moment (though there are several) is Party Vegan by Robin Robertson. I love her books and recipes, and I love menu plans and putting together themed dinners, so this book just sounds like heaven!
CONGRATULATIONS, Susan! I can’t guarantee you’ll get it by the holidays (Australia is pretty far away from here. . . ) but I’ll be ordering your book as soon as I hear from you with your full name and address and you can Party Vegan through the new year! Please email me at dietdessertdogsATgmailDOTcom before Friday to receive your book!
Holiday cookies have arrived! There are cookie bake-offs, cookie swaps, Twelve Days of Gluten Free Cookies, cookie contests. . . . With all the cookie madness upon us, how about some cookies you don’t have to bake yourself?
These treats would make a great holiday gift for anyone who’s new to the kitchen, whose busy schedule prohibits too much baking, or who is interested in healthier, yet still deliciously homemade-tasting, cookies. And they are one of my all-time favorites.
Click here to read my review and enter the giveaway. [Note: I am required by the rules of BlogHer to place my giveaway on a separate page. Sorry for the extra clicks, everyone!]
III. A Quick Smoothie Recipe
I’ll be back later with last month’s SOS Roundup and those winners, too, but in the meantime, I’ve got another breakfast recipe for y’all. Breakfast (as you might recall) is my favorite meal of the day, and I never tire of new breakfast options. Here’s a really quick and refreshing smoothie recipe I enjoyed earlier this morning.
I was feeling like oatmeal when I first got up today [groaner alert]–funny, I don’t look like oatmeal. . . well, actually, maybe that’s not entirely true these days–but knew I just didn’t have the time to cook it up. So I concocted a festive smoothie that includes a touch of oats along with a protein kick and some seasonal cranberries. Yes–raw cranberries. The result was creamy, filling, and tart yet not lip-puckering. It offered just enough sweetness for my taste with only a few drops of stevia, but sweeten as you like. The recipe will be included in my upcoming ebook on ACD-friendly breakfasts.
This is a great smoothie for those in Stage 2 of the anti-candida diet. It provides a good amount of protein to offset the carbs in the smoothie, and since cranberries don’t “count” as a fruit, the smoothie includes the natural sweetness of pear as well.
1/3 cup (80 ml) fresh or frozen unsweetened cranberries
1 cup (240 ml) unsweetened rice, almond or soy milk
small handful raw walnut halves (about 6)
1 Tbsp (15 ml) brown rice protein powder (not flavored or with added ingredients–I use NutriBiotic, which is rice protein and nothing else)
[THANKS, everyone, for your comments in response to my question at the end of my last post. I appreciate all the different perspectives and will address the issue next time! If you haven't added your two cents yet, you still can. I'd love to hear from you!]
Ah, the crazy, lazy days of summer.
Well, at least I got it half right.
Ack!! I’m going nuts over here! Bonkers! Batty! Off the deep end! Loco! Folle! Verrückt! Whack! Or, as Susan Powter used to say,
“STOP THE INSANITEEEEEEEE!!”.
Well, really, it’s my own fault. I mean, it’s crunch time at my job, but I’m still motoring full-speed ahead with cookbook promotion (which is still on sale, too! You can check it out here). And starting to write a new one (more on that anon). And maintaining this blog. AND writing articles as a freelancer. AND agreeing to talk at various nutrition events. Oh, and somehow making sure my HH doesn’t forget what I look like through all of this. Not to mention the very high-maintenance Girls.
“Excuse me, Mum, but I resemble that remark–I mean, resent that remark. True, my fur sheds like nobody’s business and true, if you don’t play with me when I ask, I start to howl and moan and growl and bark at you, and true, if you continue to ignore me, I go over to Elsie and bite her ear and paw her until she finally plays with me, but what do you mean, ‘high maintenance’? What? Aren’t all dogs like that?”
Well, the only reason they get away with it (okay, it’s actually only Chaser) is because they are so gosh-darned cute. And because being with them lowers my blood pressure, which is actually helpful while I’m drowning in this welter of marking, writing, marking, baking, marking, writing, marking, cooking, marking and marking. And marking.
I really wanted to share this ingenious recipe for Rhubarb Swirl Ice Cream–especially since it’s time for another SOS Roundup in just four days! (c’mon, folks, get those rhubarb recipes in while you can!)–but I just don’t have time to write another blog post today. So I’ve decided to give the task over to The Girls, and let them earn their keep, a little.
Sorry, but I’m just too busy to let you know about how insanely creamy this ice cream is, or how it uses walnuts and coconut milk for an ultra-rich and smooth base that doesn’t turn to ice in the freezer, or how the meandering pink swirl of tangy rhubarb is simple to make and can also be used as a compote or topping instead, or how the HH and I scooped up the entire batch of this ice cream in in three days flat. Nope, no time for that. I’ll just have to leave it up to The Girls to convey the message for me.
Over to you, Elsie
and Chaser
And happy reading, everyone!
OOOh, Elsie–I mean, Ellen–can you believe it??!! Mum is letting us take over the blog! Whooopeee! Oh, I’m so excited, I can’t believe it, I have to writhe on the ground and grrrrrrr and yelp and bite your ear and—
Zip it, Chaser, or we’ll never get this done. Mum has bestowed this responsibility upon us and we must take it seriously. Oh, and you don’t have to call me Ellen for a while. The show is on hiatus for the summer, so they’re not paying attention, anyway. But if people want to send a message to the show in support of Mum being on it, this is a great time, because Ellen’s people will have more time to read them! Now, let me think about the best way to approach this blog task. . .
Okay!! But this is STILL so exciting! I can hardly contain myself! Should we write about playing? Or running up and down the hallway? Or watching for strangers from the window and barking at them??? Or maybe going on a “W. A. L. K”–
Put a lid on it, kid. We’ve got to get to work here. And just FYI, Mum doesn’t realize we know how to spell.
Oops, sorry! Okay, so how about discussing Frisbees, my favorite? Or my ball–I LOVE MY BALL! We could talk about throwing it and chasing it, and then throwing it and chasing it again! And maybe throwing it and chasing it once more after that!! Oooh, that’s my favorite activity! Or we could talk about–
SQUIRREL!!
* * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * *
Heh heh. Now that she’s gone, let’s get to–
Whew! That squirrel must have been moving pretty fast if I couldn’t even SEE it! Okay, here I am again! Now, I know we’re supposed to say something on the blog, but I think I’ve forgotten what it was. . . something to do with eating. . . .
Don’t worry, Chaser, I’ve done this before. Let’s just talk about this Rhubarb Swirl Ice Cream.
Oooh, yeah, Rhubarb Swirl Ice Cream! One of my favorite things!! I LOVE Rhubarb Swirl Ice Cream! It’s so delicious! It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted! It’s better than sliced bread Dentabones! It’s tops! Fabulous! Fantastic!!!!!!
. . . . Um, what’s rhubarb, again?
It’s people food. But we’re allowed to taste it. It’s not too sweet, which is good for us. And it’s easy to make, which is good for Mum. But all you need to know is that it contains protein, from the walnuts and (good) fat.
Oooh, Protein and Fat! Two of my favorite things!! I LOVE protein and fat! They’re so delicious! They’re the best things–
Take a chill pill, kid. Let’s just let Mum’s readers see the recipe. Our job here is done.
Well, except for cleaning up the leftovers, right? Ooh, leftovers! I LOVE leftovers! They’re so delicious. . . . .
Rhubarb Swirl Ice Cream(suitable for ACD Phase II and beyond)
This is one vegan ice cream that won’t turn brick-hard as it freezes. The trick is the combination of walnuts and vegetable glycerin* in the base, since neither of these ever firms up completely in the freezer. This is also my first recipe using coconut sugar*, which worked like a charm.
Rhubarb Swirl:
2 Tbsp (30 ml) arrowroot powder or cornstarch
1/4 cup (60 ml) water, divided
2 cups (240 ml) chopped rhubarb (about 2 stalks)
1/4 cup (60 ml) coconut sugar*
2 tsp (10 ml) pure vanilla extract
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) ground ginger
20-25 drops stevia, to taste
Ice cream:
1 cup (4 oz/110 g) raw walnuts
1 can (14 ounces or 400 ml) full-fat coconut milk, preferably organic (I use Thai Kitchen)
1/4 cup (60 ml) vegetable glycerin or agave nectar
2 Tbsp (30 ml) coconut sugar*
2 medium peaches or pears, cored or pitted and cut in to chunks (about 9.5 oz or 265 g)
1 Tbsp (15 ml) freshly squeezed lemon juice
20 or more drops stevia, to taste
Pinch fine sea salt
1 Tbsp (15 ml) vanilla
* If you are not following an anti-candida diet and don’t have these sweeteners, you can use agave or maple syrup for the glycerin, and Sucanat or brown sugar for the coconut sugar.
For the Rhubarb Swirl, combine the arrowroot and 2 Tbsp. (30 ml) water in a small bowl and mix until smooth. Set aside. Place all ingredients except arrowroot in a small pot. Cook over medium heat until the mixture begins to bubble, stirring frequently. Once the rhubarb is bubbling, lower heat to medium-low, add the arrowroot mixture and stir well. Cook another minute or two, until mixture thickens up and becomes a bit gooey. Remove from heat and allow to cool completely.
For the ice cream base, place all ingredients in a blender and blend until perfectly smooth. Pour the mixture into an ice cream maker and churn according to directions. When the ice cream is just ready, add rhubarb swirl mixture and let mix for 10 seconds or so, just until it’s distributed in a swirl through the base. Turn into a container and freeze until ready to serve. Makes 6 servings.
If you don’t have an ice cream maker, you can prepare it this way: Prepare the rhubarb swirl as above, and place in a container.
Line an 8 x 8 inch (20 cm) square pan with waxed paper or parchment paper (plastic wrap won’t do in this case). Set aside.
Blend all ingredients for the ice cream base as above, and pour the base into the prepared pan. Freeze until just solid, then turn onto a cutting board, peel away the paper, and using a sharp knife, cut into about 25 squares. Store the squares in a plastic bag in the freezer until ready to use.
To serve the ice cream, place 4 squares for each serving in a food processor and process until it comes together in a ball, then for about 10 seconds more to create a “soft serve” consistency. Spoon into serving bowls and top with rhubarb mixture (or fold it into the base to create a swirl). Eat immediately.
This recipe is my submission this week to Amy’s Slightly Indulgent Tuesdays event. The ice cream actually tastes more than slightly indulgent–but without sugar or cream, it fits the bill perfectly anyway!
Side Note: For those who are interested, I’ve just added the clip of my television appearance earlier this week on Roger’s daytime to the Press Page.
One of the most common traits exhibited by Libras is, supposedly, “indecisiveness.” As a Libra myself, I don’t really mind that description. Well, maybe a little. But not really–it’s all in good humor, right? Then again, who likes to be called “indecisive”? Am I offended?! Yes. No. Definitely. . . . maybe.
Represented by the scales, Libras often vacillate between extremes. In my case, I tend to swing between wildly opposing behaviors: holiday sugar-binges eating chocolate fudge, chocolate cookies, chocolate cake, chocolate frosting, or just plain chocolate**, later balanced by the most ascetic of diets, the ACD, followed religiously for months, until homeostasis is achieved once again.
Similarly, I may one day vow to keep my desk immaculately clean, then allow the notes and bills and post-its to accumulate in irregular stacks like fallen autumn foliage on a forest floor; finally, in a fit of tidiness, I’ll organize the entire thing in one afternoon, filing each and every snippet of paper or invoice in its proper place, only so the cycle can begin again. Or I’ll work like a lunatic at some writing project (hmm, say, like a cookbook), tapping at the keyboard for 12-16 hours a day over the space of three months, then burn out, veg out and do absolutely no work for days while I sit comatose on the couch in my jammies and watch my soap opera.
Not surprisingly, this all-or-nothing mentality extends to my cooking as well. In order to perfect my soy-free vegan whipped cream recipe, for instance, I ended up making 50 batches in the space of a month, stopping only once I was satisfied with the result (and then didn’t touch the stuff again for six months).
Last week, my fixation turned to the Chiles en Nogada (stuffed peppers with walnut sauce) that I read about years ago in Laura Esquivel’s Like Water for Chocolate. Now, I’m no expert on Mexican cuisine (I suppose having drinks at Hernando’s Hideway in 1994 doesn’t count), I’ve never eaten poblano chiles, and I’ve certainly never tasted Chiles en Nogada.
But when I browsed through the half-price produce at our local supermarket (where I buy slightly downtrodden apples for The Girls), I spied a bag of 8 cubanelle chiles. They appeared to be entirely fresh, and firm as new spring leaves; nary a blemish except for a tiny patch of brown no larger than an aglet (an aglet?? True, it has nothing to do with chiles, but it is the correct size. And besides, how often does one get to use the word “aglet”?).
”I suppose I could use these in a simple roasted pepper pasta,” I mused. “But wait–remember how great they looked at Esperanza and Alex’s wedding? And how 27 trays of them disappeared in no time at all? And how they were so delicious, so imbued with the aura of true love and exquisite care, that they filled anyone who ingested them with a slow, spreading sensation of ecstasy that overtook every inch of their being?”
All right, then! Chiles en Nogada it is!
Once I began to readotherrecipes for thisdish, I discovered that (a) the chiles were actually poblanos, not cubanelles (but luckily, they can be used interchangeably); (b) they were stuffed with a picadillo, a mixture made of either pork or beef or both (neither of which I eat); (c) the filling featured fruits and dried candied peels (which, of course, I cannot eat); (d) the walnut sauce contains queso fresco, a soft, piquant cheese similar to goat cheese (which I don’t. . . etc.); and (e) a simple roasted pepper pasta was starting to sound really, really appealing.
Okay, this might take a little more work than intially anticipated. But I was a Libra with a mission!
Since I couldn’t undertake multiple trials as I did with the whipped cream (I had only one bag of 8 chiles, after all), I carefully considered my options and decided to go with tempeh in lieu of meat, orange zest in lieu of candied peel, and tofu sour cream in lieu of queso fresco. And you know what? The result was outrageously good.
In addition to a spectacular visual image, this dish offers a slightly smoky, soft and fleshy pepper encasing a thick and knobby filling, its sweet and savory notes in perfect harmony; there’s just the slightest hint of citrus underlying the spice. Slathered over top is a rich, extravagantly silky sauce, one that confers a zesty bite along with a whisper of cinnamon. Finally, a handful of intense, sparkling pomegranate seeds finishes the dish with an additional burst of both color and flavor.
I was entirely smitten and enjoyed stuffed peppers three times over the next three days. The HH , on the other hand, wasn’t quite as taken. ”It’s interesting, but just too weird for me,” he commented. ”Though I’m sure it would be delicious with meat.”
With its satin stole and garnet beads, Chiles en Nogada is perfectly dressed for a holiday celebration (in fact, it was originally created to celebrate Mexican Independence Day, with the red, white and green colors of the Mexican flag. . . though I have to admit my sauce was more mauve-tinged than white). It does take a bit of work, but is definitely worth it.
And now that I’ve exhausted my energies on this dish, I’ll shift to the opposite extreme and flake out on the couch for a few days. . . until the next culinary tornado hits.
“Mum, we think those peppers would be better with meat, too. But we’ll still take some of that satin walnut stole and garnet pomegranate beads, holidays or not.”
** though not this year, obviously.
Chiles en Nogado (Stuffed Peppers with Walnut Sauce)
I’ve never tasted the original, so I have no idea how far this version strays from the authentic flavor, but the winning combination of hot peppers, sweet-and-savory stuffing and silky, tangy sauce is both enchanting and unusual enough to render any occasion special.
For the Peppers:
6-8 large cubanelle or poblano peppers
1 Tbsp (15 ml) extra virgin olive oil
1 small onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 cup (240 ml) grated celery root or other firm root vegetable (parsnip or carrot would work nicely)
1-1/2 cups (360 ml) vegetable broth or stock, divided
2 Tbsp (30 ml) tomato paste
1 large apple, cored and chopped
2 Tbsp (30 ml) raisins (omit for ACD-friendly version)
zest of one organic orange
For the Sauce:
3/4 cup (180 ml) of your favorite nondairy sour cream (I used the recipe in Joni Marie Newman’s Cozy Inside)
1/2 cup ( g) raw walnuts (I kept the skins on, which accounts for the strange color of my sauce)
1/4 tsp (1 ml) cinnamon
1 drop liquid stevia (optional)
Prepare Peppers:
Preheat oven to 425F (220C). Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Place peppers on the tray and bake until just soft, about 20 minutes. Remove from oven and allow to cool while you prepare the filling.
Prepare Filling:
Heat oil in a large frypan over medium heat. Add the onion, garlic, celery root, tempeh, chopped tomato, spices and Bragg’s. Cook until onions are translucent and tempeh begins to brown, about 10 minutes. Pour in 1 cup (240 ml) of the broth, cover, and lower heat to simmer. Cook until all the liquid is absorbed, stirring occasionally, about 15 minutes.
Meanwhile, in a small bowl, combine the tomato paste and remaining 1/2 cup (120 ml) vegetable broth until smooth. Add to the tempeh mixture along with the remaining ingredients for the filling; stir well, cover, and simmer for another 5-10 minutes until most of the liquid is absorbed and sauce is very thick. Set aside.
Prepare the Sauce: Combine all ingredients in a blender and blend until perfectly smooth.
To Assemble:
Using a sharp knife, slit the peppers lengthwise between the stem and tip, cutting only through the top skin and leaving the bottom intact (leave the stems on as well). Gently pull the pepper open and scoop out the seeds and membrane. Stuff each pepper with filling, dividing it evenly. (Traditional instructions say to lie the peppers cut-side down, but I forgot; I actually like them better with a little filling peeking out). At this point, you may reheat the peppers until the filling is heated through, or just eat them at room temperature.
Spoon the sauce evenly over the peppers, and sprinkle with pomegranate seeds. Dig in! Makes 3-4 dinner or 6-8 appetizer servings. Peppers and filling (without sauce) freeze well.
[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. The series is presented on an occasional (and entirely arbitrary) basis, before I move on to the next lucky comestible. This is the second entry on apples.]
[Quick note: Don't forget about the Trail Mix Giveaway--running until Friday! ]
As I was finally catching up on some long overdue blog reading the other night (and please forgive me if I haven’t been leaving as many comments as I used to–I promise I’m still reading!), I came across Diann’s post mentioning her 4-year blogiversary (congrats, Diann!).
It suddenly struck me that I’ve missed my own 2-year anniversary (at the end of October). Could it be that I’m preoccupied with end-of-semester assignments and marking? Perhaps the excitement of Halloween clouded my memory (okay, not a great excuse–my memory is always clouded). Or is it my fretting over an upcoming TV appearance for my book** on November 17 (be sure to watch if you’re in the Toronto area!). Probably none of the above. It’s just that I was just spending too much time mulling over the appropriate sequence of courses for this current Lucky Comestible series. I mean, does one serve the salad before the soup, or soup before the salad?
Hmm. That’s a tough one. According to the Wellspring of All Things Informational, Wikipedia, soup follows the first course (which they call the entrée) ; after that, we have some fish or relevées (lighter courses), then a main dish, and then a salad, with dessert and cheese plate in pursuit. It’s common knowledge in these parts that Italian meals often serve a salad toward the end as a kind of digestive aid (which makes total sense, as the raw ingredients contain enzymes that do just that).
Well, now that I’ve discovered the joy that is Waldorf Salad, I wasn’t about to save this darling for the end of the meal!
Believe it or not, I had never tasted a true Waldorf Salad before making this one. (I know! Even with me being all worldly and everything). As a young adult, for me the name always evoked images of raucus witticisms and much imbibing at the Algonquin Round Table; impeccably-coiffed socialites in Chanel Suits, their French poodles (equally coiffed) trotting alongside on golden leashes; or Holly Golightly peeking in that store window before Breakfast (all of which occurred, of course, in the same city as the hotel in which the salad originated).
While I knew it contained apples, I wasn’t as clear on the other ingredients. I imagined it must have something exotic, such as mizuna or ugli fruit (okay, not really; in those days, I didn’t even know what ugli fruit was. I just liked the name). Or that it involved a multi-stage, every-pot-in-the-house sort of preparation.
In a recipe like this one–containing only 3 ingredients besides the mayo–that mayonnaise is pivotal. In fact, the full gastronomic experience of the salad–the entire salad “zeitgeist,” if you will–is determined by that mayo. Mayo Rules!
If you’re already familiar with a prepared mayo that you like and think would go well here, by all means, use it. I’ve rarely used jarred mayo in the past, preferring to make my own. And while the results have been perfectly fine for items such as mock tuna salad or even Celeri Remoulade, for this salad, I wanted something a little lighter, a little more delicate in flavor. And I found it–on Vegan Epicurean’s blog!
The mayo recipe she created is perfect. It’s airy, fluffy, not at all unctuous, yet rich and creamy, with just the right degree of tartness and sweetness to balance the oil. I made mine in a VitaMix, but it should work in a regular blender as well (see recipe for pointers).
The first time I made the salad, I foolishly halved the recipe, assuming the HH and I could never eat it all. (Silly me.) It was amazingly good. Crisp, juicy, sweet apple bits complemented by crisp, juicy, slightly bitter celery bits, punctuated by crisp, toasty walnut bits, all coated in bits of creamy, smooth, ethereal mayonnaise. And wouldn’t you know it–bit by delectable bit, I ate half the bowl. (As did the HH.)
Whether you serve this as a first course, following the soup, or as a post-prandial nibble, no matter. It’s a joy to eat any time.
“Mum, I’m sure we would find that salad a joy to eat, too! Oh, wait; for us, pretty much anything is a joy to eat. But can we still have the leftovers anyway?”
**If you don’t yet have a copy of Sweet Freedom, this is a great time to get one for yourself, or as a holiday gift for someone else! Receive personalized, signed copies of the book mailed to you (so you have plenty of time to wrap and go before the holidays) for just $25 including taxes, shipping and handling. Why not enjoy some delicious, healthy sweet treats this holiday season? Offer good until December 1st!
A wonderful first course for a meal, or as a side dish with a summer dinner. There’s a reason this salad is a classic–it’s still irresistible, even today.
1 large sweet, crisp and juicy apple (I used Honeycrisp), cut into bite-sized pieces (about 2 cups/480 ml)
1/2 cup (55 g) lightly toasted walnuts, broken into pieces
1/2 cup (120 ml) halved green grapes (optional)
1 cup (240 ml) great-tasting mayonnaise (I used this recipe, with the ACD variation, below)
Place the apples, celery, walnuts and grapes in a large bowl. Add the mayo and stir to coat well. Either eat immediately, or store, covered, in refrigerator until ready to serve. To serve, garnish with more chopped walnuts, if desired. Makes 4-6 servings.
1 cup plus 2 Tbsp (270 ml) sunflower or other light-tasting oil, preferably organic
1/4 tsp (1 ml) apple cider vinegar
2-4 drops stevia liquid (to your taste)
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) fine sea salt
1-1/2 tsp (7.5 ml) fresh lemon juice
1 tsp (5 ml) finely grated lemon zest
1/4 tsp (1 ml) dry mustard powder
Blend all ingredients in a high speed blender until thick, scraping down sides as necessary. Transfer to a jar and refrigerate before using. (If using a conventional blender, blend all ingredients except oil. Then, with motor running, slowly pour the oil into the blender and allow the mixture to emulsify. Transfer to a jar and refrigerate before using). Makes about 2 cups (480 ml).
What? Another breakfast recipe–and so soon, you say? Well, you can never have too much breakfast is what I say. I mean, breakfast really is the best repast of the trio of meals, isn’t it?
To begin with, if it’s breakfast time, you’re probably rested. Your belly is primed and ready to accept food (after all, you have been fasting all night). You’re most likely clean (après morning shower), your face is still fresh and mascara-free, and you can feel good about giving your body “the most important meal of the day.” And besides all that–breakfast tastes better than just about any meal I can think of.
I’ve always favored breakfast, but I didn’t really develop my true allegiance to the morning meal until my late teens, when my friend Sterlin and I took our first vacation on our own–across the continent, to California. (Were our parents insane, letting two seventeen year-olds travel alone? Naw–no worries there–we were total nerds). Our first stop was LA, where we stayed with my dad’s aunt.
Let’s call her “Great Aunt Yetta.” (Actually, that was her real name, but let’s still call her that anyway). Even back then, more than 30 years ago, Ms. Yetta was already ancient, in her late 80s. Poor Yetta’s husband had died almost twenty years earlier, and she lived alone in their small bungalow near Beverly Boulevard in the city. The place looked as if nothing had been disturbed (or, by the looks of it, cleaned too often) since her husband’s death.
About four-foot-ten in heels, Yetta greeted us at the door with a heavily teased, upswept ‘do reminiscent of Endora in Bewitched (except Yetta’s hair was entirely white), its outer layer shellacked with Aqua Net. Despite her advanced years, she still took pride in her appearance, and in our honor had donned the full regalia: fuscia and lime green flowered cotton housedress belted at the waist in shiny white vinyl; gold and black sandals revealing painted crimson toenails, the toes themselves bent various unnatural directions. On her wrists and neck she wore four or five strings of multi-colored plastic beads, along with sparkly, dangly earrings; her face was slathered with full theater-worthy makeup, the purple eyeshadow thick enough to glaze pottery, a coat of carmine lipstick (which only partially followed the actual outline of her lips) on her mouth.
Yetta spoke in a sqeaky, slightly sing-song voice that brought to mind a Polish Edith Bunker. Had we been a little less starry-eyed from having just landed in California that day, Sterlin and I might have found Yetta somewhat creepy (that came later); instead, we assumed she was merely “eccentric.”
On our first morning in the city, we bounded out of bed at 5:30 AM (with the time change, this was already 9:30 our time) and emerged ravenous from our room.
“Come, dahlink, eat some breakfast,” Yetta said, grabbing me by the forearm. She led us to the dilapitaded dining room, where the table was laid with a few dishes, cups and a teapot. There was nothing recognizable as food, but as we drew closer, we could make out what was on the table. Without a word, Sterlin and I exchanged meaningful glances and began silently to plot our exit.
“No, you must eat some breakfast!” Yetta insisted. “Here, have some cheese.” She presented me with an amorphous blob of something half covered in soft, green fuzz. “Oh, don’t worry, it is still good,you just do like this–” She grabbed a butter knife and began hacking at the outside of the blob.
“Oh, no, really, thank you so much, but we aren’t hungry,” we piped up in unison.
“Okay, so some juice then,” she declared, handing over a jar of Tang that had clearly first entered her cupboard in the Sixties. I unscrewed the rusty lid and cautiously peered inside. The contents was so old that it had fossilized, one solid mass of crystalline orange rock.
Before I could say anything, Yetta grabbed the jar. “Oh, is okay,” she insisted, brandishing the same trusty butter knife, “You just make like this and you pour it out!” With that, she began to chip away at the ossified Tang.
“No, really, we never eat breakfast in the morning–OR drink anything before lunchtime!” we cried, backing out the door, “But thank you so much, anyway! See you later!” Luckily, we found a Farmer’s Market down the street, rife with fresh fruit, pancakes, waffles, and–a thrilling discovery at the time–frozen yogurt! (It didn’t exist yet in Canada in those days).
For the entire two weeks in LA, each morning we went through the ritual of thanking Yetta for her generosity, insisting that we never ate breakfast, and then running over to the market to gorge on every breakfast food (and several non-breakfast foods) we could find.
And so, my fascination with breakfast was established.
On our last evening in LA, we were asked to dinner at Great Uncle Norman’s house (Yetta’s brother), though Yetta was not invited. After the meal as we sat chatting about our visit, we actually began to feel a little sympathy for Yetta.
“Gee, it’s too bad about her husband,” Sterlin mused.
“What do you mean?” asked Great Uncle Norman.
“Well, you know. . . that he died,” Sterlin said.
Great Uncle Norman’s mouth dropped open. I think he may have even lost a few crumbs of his coffee cake. “Died?” he repeated. “Are you kidding me?! He didn’t die! He left her–he couldn’t stand to be in the same house as her for one more minute! He’s remarried and lives in Burbank.”
Maybe she’d fed him the green-cheese-and-Tang breakfast, too; who knows? In any case, my own interactions with breakfast have remained consistently pleasant since that time.
The HH and I enjoyed these sausage patties and biscuits with gravy for brunch last weekend. After celebrating my birthday in a very low-key fashion (stupid flu! stupid virus! stupid germs!), the HH and I decided to aim for a special brunch instead. (I did receive a truly beautiful, totally indulgent and indescribably warm and cozy cashmere scarf as a gift from the HH, however).
With leftover cooked rice in the fridge, as well as some nearly-dried sage left over from the roasted plum and spinach salad I’d made the week before, I developed a vague idea of wanting ”sausages” and so devised this recipe for super-simple and quick savory patties. I baked mine, but they can be pan-fried just as easily. The patties crisp up on the outside (even baked), retaining a moist yet firm interior. The coupling of walnuts and sage here mimics a meaty flavor exceedingly well, I think.
After reading Lindsay’s post a while back about Southern biscuits smothered in gravy, I knew I had to try this pairing out myself! Of course, my choices for both biscuits and gravy are currently limited, but I revised my coconut flour biscuit recipe as a savory round*, and topped it with a slightly altered version of Isa’s brilliant Smoked Almond Gravy (since I can’t eat smoked almonds–the ACD forbids pre-roasted nuts, as they tend to harbor molds–I simply roasted my own natural almonds, then added smoked paprika and some caramelized onions to the mix for an irresistible alternative).
This delicious, thick and chunky gravy, once ladled atop the savory biscuits, transported the dish from merely a ”Jennifer Aniston good” to a stellar, “Meryl Streep good.” They’re that good!
If you’re looking for a fairly quick and easy brunch that will encourage seconds, here it is. Add a green salad, and you’ve got a perfect meal.
The inclusion of Tang is optional.
Since this is a perfect brunch meal, I thought I’d submit this to Meeta’sMonthly Mingle event–this month highlighting brunch!
Easy “Sausage” Patties
These are great to use up leftover cooked rice. I used walnuts, but you could substitute other nuts if you prefer.
2 Tbsp (30 ml) extra virgin olive oil or coconut oil, preferably organic
1 large onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, chopped fine
1-1/4 cups ( g) lightly toasted walnuts
1-1/2 cups (360 ml) cooked brown rice (I used basmati)
1 Tbsp (15 ml) finely ground flax seeds
1/4 cup (60 ml) vegetable broth or water
2 Tbsp (30 ml) chopped fresh parsley
1/4 cup (60 ml) chopped fresh sage (about 10-12 leaves), or use 1 tsp (5 ml) dried sage
1/2 tsp (5 ml) smoked paprika
Preheat oven to 375F (190C). Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper, or spray with nonstick spray.
Heat the oil in a frypan over medium heat and add the onions and garlic. Sauté until the onions are golden, about 10 minutes.
Meanwhile, combine the remaining ingredients in the bowl of a food processor and process until well mixed and almost smooth. Add the cooked onion/garlic mixture and process until combined. The mixture should be moist and sticky, but firm enough to hold a shape.
Using a large ice cream scoop or your hands (be sure to remove the processor blade first!), scoop about 1/3 cup (80 ml) of the mixture at a time and place on the cookie sheet. Flatten the patties to about 1/2 inch (1.25 cm) thick. If desired, spray or brush with a little olive oil (this will help the patties to brown up on the outside). Bake in preheated oven for 35-45 minutes, until crisp and dry on the outside. Patties may also be pan-fried for 5-7 minutes per side. Makes 8 patties. May be frozen.
Thick, smoky, chunky, and creamy–this is everything gravy should be!
1 large onion, chopped
2 large cloves garlic, chopped
1 Tbsp (15 ml) coconut oil or extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
1 cup natural raw almonds, baked at 350F (180C) until toasted, 10-15 minutes, and then cooled
1-1/4 cups (300 ml) water
2 Tbsp (30 ml) soy sauce, Tamari, or Bragg’s
3/4-1 tsp (3.5–5 ml) smoked paprika, as you like
2-4 Tbsp (30-60 ml) brown rice flour (depending on how thick you want it)
fine sea salt, to taste
In a large frypan, heat the oil over medium heat. Add the onion and garlic and sauté until the onion is soft and golden brown, about 10 minutes.
Meanwhile, process the almonds in a food processor until they are the texture of a fine meal (like a coarse cornmeal). Add the cooked onion and garlic and process to blend well. Add remaining ingredients and process until smooth.
Transfer the mixture to a medium pot and cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until the gravy bubbles and thickens. Serve immediately. Store in a covered jar in the refrigerator for up to 3 days. Makes 4-6 servings.
* For savoryCoconut Flour Biscuits: omit stevia and vanilla; use bean flour instead of buckwheat flour; and add 1 Tbsp (15 ml) each of dried tarragon, oregano, and basil.
Last Year at this Time: Date Pasta (and another Sterlin-related story)
Just like Anna Karenina’s unhappy families, everyone deals with illness in her or his own way.
The HH, for instance, when struck with a cold or flu, takes to his (ie, our) bed for two days or so. He doesn’t talk; he doesn’t watch TV; he doesn’t eat; he barely uses the bathroom. Then, after the magical 48-hour interval, he emerges from the room like someone who’s just attended a premiere screening of Star Wars: still a little dazed, eyes not quite yet adjusted to the light, but somehow energized and ready to get back into the regular world.
I, on the other hand, rarely if ever spend time in bed during the day (no, no, I didn’t mean it that way, silly! I’m talking about when I’m sick). Instead, I stumble about and manage to function at sub-optimal levels for as many days as it takes to recover. . . usually the better part of two weeks. Then, one day, I realize that the symptoms are gone–no more pile of soggy tissues beside the bed, no more abandoned cups of tea all over the house, no more tickle at the back of the throat, no more raw, throbbing red proboscis.
Similarly, I think that people who recuperate from illness crave unique foods as well.
When I was 16, I caught chicken pox from the CFO. (Believe me, chicken pox is intended as a childhood disease for a reason; what is usually mild and short-term discomfort for a ten year-old can progress to a full blown health crisis for a teen or adult). Besides the initial alarm and teenaged angst I felt during the first two days (when I assumed those little pustules were zits rather than pox), I also became incredibly enervated and developed a high (104F or 40C) fever before an insanity-inducing itch enveloped my entire body for about ten days. I recall spending hours hunched in the bathtub, attempting to submerge myself (face included) under the lukewarm water into which was dumped an entire box of baking soda. If it hadn’t been a drowning risk, I probably would have slept in that tub.
When I finally began to regain some strength, my mom asked what I wanted to eat.
“I think I’d like some. . . cottage cheese and canned pears.”
Cottage cheese? And canned pears?? Neither of these was a favored food; I almost never ate canned anything. Still, my body must have known what it needed. Perhaps there was sodium in the pears to replenish what I’d lost in bodily fluids by sweating so much. Or maybe my adolescent self still required some protein and calcium. Whatever the reason, it did the trick, and I began to get better.
This past week, as I finally emerged from the quagmire of a heinous virus (not swine flu, according to my doctor), I began to yearn for real food, something other than tea, or broth, or a healing smoothie.
“Ess goo suh-er” I said to the HH. (I lost my voice after the first few days, and it still hasn’t quite come back, unfortunately.)
“Huh?” the HH replied.
“Let’s cook supper,” I whispered. “How about lentil rissoles?”
“Huh?” the HH replied. (Oh, he had heard me this time; but he had no idea what a “rissole” was).
Like so many food bloggers, my favorite reading material when I have a few minutes of downtime is a good cookbook. In general, I flip through any new recipe book as soon as I get it home, marking favored recipes with tabs made from torn Post-It notes. Some books end up with just a few tabs, lonely markers like flags left behind on the surface of the moon, while others are graced with tabs on almost every page, leaving a fringe of sticky notes across the book’s edge.
This recipe for lentil rissoles is one I picked out over a year ago, when I first flipped through Homestyle Vegetarian, a great find at a bookstore remainder bin. Basically, a rissole is a patty or burger that’s been coated in breadcrumbs and deep fried. I decided to nix the coating/frying and cook these up as a simple yet flavorful burger. Besides being delicious, these lovelies boast a full 24 grams of protein per serving (2 rissoles).
In about 30 minutes (by then I was too hungry to refrigerate them as directed before cooking–but I think it would have helped), we had a satisfying meal of rissoles and a simple green salad on the table. The end result was slightly disappointing in texture (probably my fault for not refrigerating them first), with a soft and moist interior much like refried beans. As a result, the patties tended to break up as I transferred them from pan to plate. (I’m guessing that a Tbsp/15 ml finely ground flax added to the raw mixture would help considerably, or substituting a glutenous rather than gluten-free bread for the crumbs). But the taste was outstanding.
Not at all spicy, with just a whisper of cumin, the burgers were toothsome and even meaty. While my habitual method with burgers is to blend everything to a homogenous smoothness, in this case I followed the original recipe and made patties with distinct chunks of carrot and whole peas, which provided bursts of slightly sweet, intense flavor in each bite. Beauty!
The HH proclaimed these a huge success and happily ate two. We had ours plain, but because of their mild flavor, I bet these would be stellar with a chutney or even a few slices of avocado and a dollop of salsa. Still, that’s just how I’d eat them. I imagine everyone else will deal with the burger in her or his own way, of course.
These patties are perfect for an everyday dinner, and would be wonderful jazzed up with an array of toppings and served in a toasted bun.
1 Tbsp (15 ml) extra virgin olive oil
1 large onion, finely chopped
2 large cloves garlic, finely chopped
2 tsp (10 ml) ground cumin
1 tsp (5 ml) ground coriander
2 cups (480 ml) vegetable broth or stock
1 medium carrot, finely diced
1 cup (250 g) red lentils, picked over and washed
1-1/2 cups (120 g) fresh whole grain breadcrumbs (I used millet-quinoa bread, but I think a spelt or whole wheat would actually work better here)
2/3 cup (60 g) walnuts, finely chopped (I ground mine in the food processor)
1/2 cup (90 g) frozen peas
3 Tbsp (45 ml) chopped flat leaf parsley or cilantro
Heat the oil in a large pot or dutch oven. Cook the onion, garlic, cumin and coriander over medium heat for 2 minutes, or until the onion has softened. Stir in the carrot, lentils and broth. Slowly bring to the boil, then reduce the heat to low and simmer, covered, for about 30 minutes, or until the lentils are cooked and pulpy, stirring frequently to stop them from sticking and scorching. Remove the lid during the last 10 minutes to evaporate any remaining liquid. The mixture should be fairly mushy and there should be no liquid visible on the bottom of the pot after you run a spatula across it.
Transfer the mixture to a large bowl and cool for 10 minutes. Stir in the breadcrumbs, walnuts, peas, and parsley. Form into eight 3-1/2 inch (8 cm) round rissoles. Cover and refrigerate for 30 minutes, or until they are firm (this is the step I skipped–I would advise doing it).
Spray a nonstick frypan with olive oil spray and heat over medium heat. Cook the rissoles about 4 minutes on each side, until the outsides are browned and crispy and they are heated through. Makes 8 rissoles. May be frozen.
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