Friday, May 15, 2015

A day for the blues... and Cashew Cocoa.

 What a sad day today-- BB King has left the world, and my car's transmission has done the same. Neither of them are coming back, and that calls for some comfort, which I have chosen to imbibe, in the form of cocoa.

 I do buy cocoa mix during the winter, because my hubby-man likes to have it handy, but most of the time I'd rather make it myself. Today, I made a combo-- sort of semi-homemade, in that I used prepared Cashew milk and so added no other sweetener. Silk brand has hit a home run with this product, which I have yet to find in the unsweetened version. It makes a nice, rich cocoa that is only slightly nutty. Lately I've been using carob powder to make our cocoa, because I happened to find it on sale-- and it was love at first taste. In brownies, in coffee, or any way I'd use unsweetened cocoa, this stuff gives a nice twist.

 My comfort cocoa method is simple-- put a smallish saucepan on medium-low heat, add the amount of milk you like, and heat till it begins to get steamy. Add carob powder to taste-- I scoop out a quarter cup, and add it slowly till the liquid is as dark as I'd like (and I like it dark!), then whisk it till blended. Heat a little longer on low, add a drop of almond or vanilla extract (or mint), and taste for sweetness. We like ours less sweet, but good partners for carob are brown sugar or maple syrup, though it takes well to honey, agave or sugar too. I like the dark golden tinge of flavor that maple gives it, best.

 Carob is sweet in itself, so you won't need much if your milk is pre-sweetened-- add your sweetener of choice a tsp at a time, stirring and tasting.

 Then you have a wonderful little pot of comfort, Carob Cashew Cocoa. I often make it by the mugful in the microwave for my hubby-man, with naturally smaller amounts of milk and carob. A mini-whisk keeps it from being lumpy, rather than merely stirring. It takes all of two and a half minutes, at most. The full pot made on the stove doesn't take much longer.


 Dark Carob Cocoa



Enjoy!

    --Mari

 

Monday, May 11, 2015

Corn in the Crock

 Today is the third day I've used my crockpot to make dinner a painless task, and I don't see myself stopping anytime soon!

 Whether I'm throwing asparagus in there with a drop of oil and some sliced peppers, or cooking potatoes, green beans, lemon, zucchini and wine into an easy stew that makes its own sauce, I'm happy to have a way to cook a main dish vegetable that doesn't make my kitchen hot. It's early May, but our temps here in Buffalo, NY have climbed into the high 80's already, and that makes me lose all interest in the stove. But now that I'm in slow-cooker mode, the ideas for more fuss-free, veg-centric dishes just keep coming, and that keeps me interested in cooking, and eating, well.

 When I cooked asparagus yesterday, I had thought at first of just letting it roast awhile, and then making a salad and putting the roast veg on top. As the day wore down, I no longer felt like making a salad, but what about throwing some red pepper chunks in with the asparagus just long enough to soften a little? Then, at the last minute, I stirred in several cups of baby spinach leaves, which made a tasty blend. I'd seasoned the whole with celery salt (I have a weakness for that stuff), and some orange peel, but you could use rosemary and fennel, fennel and lemon, thyme and garlic, or any combo you like. Put it right in with the asparagus, so that you can use less and have it infuse the vegetables with flavor as they slowly cook. Put it on high for two hours, checking in after an hour, or on low for several hours. I like mine just done, barely cooked, but you can make it as tender as you like.

 The day before, I was just in a green veg mode, so first I had to use my fresh green beans, then chunked zuke. I parboiled some potatoes, as I hadn't thought to put them in first, as would have been the smart way; but I added lemon wedges, salt and fennel with the beans, a splash of wine when the potatoes went in, and by the time it was all cooked to the right tenderness, that salty lemon and wine had melded with the potato to make a creamy lemon sauce that we were happy to sop up with some French bread. The next time round, I may add artichoke hearts and garbanzos to the mix.


 Today I'm putting corn on the cob into the same crock (washing the insert every night makes it easier to think about cooking the night morning!) and I think I'll use my favorite flavor duo from last year's corn feasts-- orange peel and basil, with a tsp of oil in the pot. You just pile it all in there, add a tiny splash of water or broth, and cook on high for a couple of hours, or on low for four-five, though when I make straight-up veg in the crock, I like to start it on high no matter what, turning to low for longer cooking after the first 25 minutes. The best part is, no stirring is required. You can turn and rearrange the cobs if you like, but it isn't critical as they'll cook through no matter what, given enough time; and they'll be juicy, not soggy, bursting with intense flavor from your seasonings. They won't need salt or butter, either. With a green salad and veggie burgers plus corn, we'll be living the good life tonight.

   I don't know, yet, what vegetable blend will be cooking tomorrow, but I'm pretty sure, it's going to be made in the slow-cooker.


  Peace, Mari

Friday, May 8, 2015

Tasty Tidbits From All Over!

 Here's some vegan food for thought (and mealtime inspiration) I've been enjoying through the week. It might be a little heavy on the salad side, as WNY has gone from Winter to Summer with barely a few days of Spring's soft transition, and I'm already over the idea of hot food for a while:


http://www.peta.org/living/food/vegan-salad-recipes/ --a nice assortment of super salads that have far more than greens and dressing.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8O9qj63e6Go --Kid (and Mom) friendly, Sweet Pink Strawberry Milk, from the Queen of Vegan Soul, whose easy-going videos I have been digging lately.

http://blissfulbasil.com/2014/05/21/juicy-portobello-burgers-with-vegan-blue-cheese-caramelized-onions/ --a fantastic play of flavors from BlissfulBasil.

http://www.choosingraw.com/back-from-nature-salad/ --Cool, crisp and filling, from Gena Hamshaw.

http://www.healthfulpursuit.com/recipe/sleepy-blueberry-muffin-smoothie/ --Breakfast in a glass, from that crazy funny gal at Healthful Pursuit.

 Those are my quick picks from the week, and I hope you find something new and interesting to try among them. I'd love to see what blogs or websites you've been peeking in on, anytime, too.

 Here's to a great weekend! Peace, Mari

Sunday, May 3, 2015

Back to a Beginning, with a side of Pickled Radish.

 As always, my timing is off a bit-- it's been a few months over a year since I took a year's hiatus, and no doubt I've lost any momentum this blog might have had. But in the words of Stuart Smalley, "that's-- okay," because I'm ready for taking on challenges, and I'm also thinking of altering this blog, in future; perhaps changing the location, and somewhat of the outlook as well.



 My goal for this blog was always just to share foodie experiences, past and present, through the lens of my eclectic, home-based vegetarianism-- for me, that means recipes, along with ideas about food and eating and their importance in our lives. Family related food issues, seasonal and daily rituals, tweaking recipes, restaurant visits, all rolled into one blog that is sometimes a straight ahead review, sometimes more meditative, but always focused on telling the story in words, and hopefully, in graceful prose.

 As I've been told, this is not to everyone's taste. I am not a photographer, do not have a model kitchen, and those are two reasons I have generally eschewed the common practice of documenting each step of a recipe with a picture here, but there are other reasons. For one, words & thinking are my thing, the part of blogging that truly excites me; for another, if I never see another blog pic of KitchenAid beaters dripping beige batter into a big blue pottery bowl, it'll be too soon.

 I'm not meaning to put down those who blog out of sparkling, gorgeous kitchens and like to show a step-by-step process of every single blessed recipe they make, but I frankly don't need it, and I'm not interested in being another such blogger. There are plenty of them, some who do it so wonderfully (and with fantastic writing, too) that I would be ashamed to try, even if I had the will, the time, the camera and the kitchen. I would rather emulate their enthusiasm, their attention to detail as cooks, than to bother flooding this space with pictures of my odd little throwback kitchen and its contents.

 For those who have never read about it before, my kitchen is just retro enough (circa 1968) to be a pain in the ass without having any magnificent fun vintage qualities, unless you think that silver & gold reflective wall paper on every kitchen wall is charming. What the hell, it goes with the Harvest Gold appliances that are all more or less dysfunctional at this point, though they were clearly top-of- the-line when first installed 40+ years ago; and the wavy gilt stuff gives off a vaguely hep Hugh Hefner vibe in the early summer evenings. I'm serious-- you can't look at it too long without getting dizzy.

 That's what I cook out of, until I can afford to redo the lot, but trust me, you don't want to see it often. Right now, the dishwasher pipes need major repair, and the sinks and countertops have hit critical mass, laden with extra bowls and glasses I haven't bothered to do more to than rinse out and stack-- my dryer is also unwell, I've been sick a lot in the last year, and I just can't keep up, with two important appliances down until who knows when.

 Still, I'm determined to eat well, better than well, but more simply for a while. I've taken on the http://www.vegetariantimes.com/vegan-challenge/28-day Vegan challenge that starts today, May 3rd, hosted by the VT through sponsorship of the Ancient Grains brand. Vegan is not necessarily more simple, but for us it will be this month, as I'm using the challenge as a great way to lower our sodium intake (no cheese!) and also incorporate more raw fruit and veg into our everyday diet.

 If you've read this blog in the past, you may know that I've been trying to get up to 50-60% raw for some years. Family life has gotten in the way, as has being a sickly chief-cook-and-bottle-washer. If you're the one chopping all the food, you can't be ill for weeks on end and still get it done. To this end, dropping the cost of our few remaining animal foods has had the added benefit of allowing me to buy the occasional pre-chopped squash or pineapple, and some frozen entrees for emergencies. Thank goodness we have a Trader Joe's here now!


(If you haven't read this blog in the past, here are some posts to start with:  http://vegetarianatlarge.blogspot.com/2012/10/sweet-fruits-of-fall.html
http://vegetarianatlarge.blogspot.com/2012/08/baking-essentials-vegan-chocolate-cake.html
http://vegetarianatlarge.blogspot.com/2012/07/tried-and-tweaked-thursday-bean-corn.html
http://vegetarianatlarge.blogspot.com/2011/08/watermelon-gazpacho-and-other-things-i.html
http://vegetarianatlarge.blogspot.com/2011/01/barbecued-spam-and-other-childhood.html


 So, I'm taking the household into Veganist territory (having read Veganist some months back), partly in order to go more raw for good. I received a couple of lovely new vegan books last year, too: Vegan on $4/Day, and The Veggie Lover's Sriracha Cookbook. Last year, while on hiatus, I read at least a dozen raw or vegan cookbooks, learning the modes, methods and ideas that make for a successful transition. And as I've been leaning towards the change for ages, now seems a good time to experiment more fully, as we head into Spring, assured of finding more local fresh veg in the markets. I'm looking forward to eating more fruit than usual, and making my own soymilk yoghurt in the crockpot, and I'm going into it all with a sense of adventure and a light heart, not a veil of judgment. It's my hope the blog will reflect these sentiments.

 Today has been a good, gentle warm day so far. Our breakfast was old-fashioned oatmeal with many nuts and seeds, some sliced banana, a sprinkle of chocolate, and our usual unsweetened coconut milk. Lunch was a hummus sandwich with some quick-pickled radish** and grilled arugula on whole wheat Tuscan pane bread, and organic strawberries. Dinner will be red sauce and pasta with field roast sausage, and a many-greens salad. We have Soy Creamy mini nice-cream sandwiches in the freezer, for a sweet. A good balance of whole food and time-savers, for this first day of the challenge, and the screen door of my office is letting in the light breeze and sunshine.

 Not exactly deprivation, is it?


 Have a delicious Sunday evening. Peace,
                                                                    Mari



**The easiest pickled radishes you can find-- just thinly slice cleaned radishes into a jar of your favorite pickle liquid after the last pickle is gone, add a couple of extra tsp. of salt and a shot of extra vinegar ( I like red wine vinegar for this but any type will do), stir, cover, and refrigerate as usual. In an hour or two, you will have nice radish pickles, and by the next day, they'll be addictively delicious.

Wednesday, January 8, 2014

Of Healing and a Hiatus-- and My 100th post!

 Thank you for your kind wishes and good thoughts, all. My surgery in May went exceptionally well, I began healing quickly, and I'm starting to feel close to normal in some ways, as of this month.

 Nowadays I'm into other kinds of healing too, having begun the creative recovery program known as The Artist's Way, from the book and class by Julia Cameron (with Mark Bryan). I recommend this program to anyone wanting to wake up their senses and creative life, not just artists of all types.

 I wasn't fully asleep, mind you; but being sick for years throws you into vast realms of mental sludge, and I felt I could use the help in climbing out. It was begun on a whim, sidelined by obligations for a couple of months, and now I have begun again. I'm enjoying the challenges set.  each day, you must write several pages of longhand whatever-comes-out, and each week, there are tasks and a date with your inner artist, to help you restock your creative koi pond with fresh wiggly delights.

Jellyfish! Dangerous, like all art-- but pretty.


 To dedicate myself more fully, and to help get my emotional juju with food back, I am taking a hiatus here on this blog, for a full year. A Full Year.


 Yes! I will return in January 2015, to reinvent this place for food writing and exploration. Friends, even when my health issues were getting better, my life had become a little static, a little too contained to feel I had something of use to offer food-wise. And I recently left my long-time food community, the CLBB, due to a growing lack of inspiration there, and some unpleasant forum conversations. C'est la vie-- we can but be who we are, and if we are not valued for that in a certain place, then why stay? Anyway, I have left behind many things in the last year, but I'm not going to leave this blog swinging in the wind. I never let sleeping blogs lie... I kill 'em off or rejuvenate them instead.


 So-- till next year, I thank you, and I have appreciated your interest, care and comments. Feel free to check back in a few months, as new roads may lead me to a new blog, a new focus. I will surely be checking in on the blogs linked here, and I suggest you do the same, because they're awesome, creative and well-written.

 And seeing as this is my 100th post, may I suggest that if you haven't read me from the beginning (and no one, I believe, has) you may want to go back there and read some older posts. Some good stuff there, and hopefully, thought-provoking work.


 Peace, joy, discovery, tastiness, and a very happy new year to you--

                                                                                                 Mari

Sunday, June 9, 2013

Healing Foods and Retro Cheesecake.

 At the end of May, I had my baby-making equipment forcibly removed for my health-- on Wednesday, May 29-- and didn't get to eat anything but broth and juice until late Friday morning. In fact I went for over 35 hours on nothing but a few ice chips towards the end of that time frame. Though I'd been told the food at Sisters Hospital on Main was good even if you were vegetarian, I didn't feel like sticking around long enough to really find out.

 Instead, since I was doing amazingly well for a person with an auto-immune disease after a major operation, I came home and had half a veggie sub. And my family has been bringing me food ever since-- sprouted quinoa and roasted vegetables with a tub of peach sorbet from my niece, soup and some burgers for the hubby-man from my mom, lasagna and chili and muffins and more from my big sister, pretty and tasty chive heads from my younger sis (and I'm looking forward to her spicy black bean burgers soon).

 I've felt so much better for these meals, made with love and forethought, brought as needed and given with care.  My body began to try to act normally pretty quick under the influence of such good stuff. Every day has brought more movement, less discomfort. And it's healing just to know that I don't have to rely on takeout when I'm too tired to cook, which happens at least every other day. Knowing that the hubby-man has food to get him through the worst of it helps too-- I can take a nap during the day without worrying that he'll starve through his workweek because I was resting like I'm supposed to. I can shop the fridge instead of making him go shopping when he's had a full day.

 Both family and friends have done other wonderful things for me: brought me books to read and magazines to enjoy, flowers to scent the house. They've run errands and done laundry and  it's overwhelming. I've gotten visits and cards and gifts in the mail, a pedicure while I was in the hospital and a pot of fully mature herbs to use when I feel up to cooking. All of this, bolstered by the food, had made a giant difference. You wouldn't believe how short a time it's been since the surgery, if you saw me walking around doing dishes today. That's how lucky I am in my choice of surgeons and my bounty of loved ones. That's how powerful a gift of healthful food can be.

 I felt so well and good yesterday, I cooked a whole meal-- sloppy lentils (okay, they're super easy), veg in sauce, baked potatoes and a retro cheesecake, the soft creamy kind I never had in childhood. This is the kind that starts with a can of sweetened condensed milk, an item rarely found in my kitchen; but I remembered having bought one some time back as I was leafing through a recently acquired dessert cookbook, and there was a recipe for that creamy, fluffy unbaked cheesecake, topped with cherry pie filling. For once, it sounded good. Maybe that's a natural side effect of reading four dessert cookbooks in a row.

 It was not a success but not a total failure. Being so easy, you'd wonder how it could get screwed up, and I'll tell you: I used a food processor to mix the whole thing, instead of a mixer as specified. Even using less liquid and more chill time, I ended up with more a cheesecake-flavored spoon pudding than a cheesecake. The upside is, it tastes good, and I've found out now that the Baker's Corner cherry pie filling, sold at Aldi's, is the best canned filling ever. Not too sweet, it seems to be made from sour cherries and has a deep, tart fruity flavor. Worth the cost of the cheesecake experiment for sure! Though I'm putting the failure all on myself and my use of modern methods, the cookbook/recipe was so old I can't be certain that the relative leanness of our contemporary dairy products isn't partly to blame, so I won't share this recipe until I've tried it again as written and had more success.

 Not to be satisfied with a pudding, I've stuck the bulk of the cheesecake mess in the freezer, and we'll see if we get a cheesecake-y frozen dessert** for the effort.

 Because sometimes sweets are healing, too.

Thanks to all my family, here and in Indiana, and my friends all over the world, for your gifts, help, and kind thoughts-- it's working!


  Have a delicious week. Peace,

                                           --Mari



**Yes, we did. Freezing this baby made it so good, I might do that every time.

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Heat of the Moment-- Red Sangria

 In my office, there's a sweet breeze. I'm at the table that serves as a desk having red beans and rice, and chilling a gift of raspberry vodka to make one twisted, perfect Cosmo.

 You have to have some way to beat the heat. Mine is throwing some easy food in the mini-crockpot and looking forward to a great cocktail in the yard later. In hot weather, a single, wonderful chilled drink does it for me better than a pitcher of cheap beer; but a pitcher of Sangria is not to be spurned.
 Below is one we tried recently, and enjoyed.

 I've always preferred Sangria made without soda of any sort, and this one fills the bill. It does require a simple syrup, which I made in the cool of morning, which is the best time to get any cooking done these days even if you, unlike us, have AC.

 By the end of a hot day, no one really wants to cook. Do all your chopping and such as soon as you get up, and by evening you'll feel like a genius for having made your own life so easy. You'll also love having a glass of this fruity Sangria with your easy dinner. If you need something stronger, hop over to the Cocktail Lady's blog, and look through her past year's cocktail recipe entries-- there's sure to be something you'll enjoy. Just reading through a week's worth of cocktails has a mellowing effect.


I have, of course, tweaked the original recipe a bit, just to suit my taste. It was overly sweet for me otherwise, and I like lots of fruit.

Red Sangria

Friday, May 3, 2013

Changing lanes-- grocery lanes! The Update.

  As foretold in past posts, I have shifted around my shopping habits, going into new stores for new foods, trying to look at our daily meals with a fresh eye. There's been some success and some falling back on takeout, though mainly that happens when I'm sick. But I've been sick often since January.

  One neat thing is, when forced by sheer necessity to visit my old stomping grounds at Aldi's and Dash early in the experiment, I found myself taking a new approach, buying different foods for different meals than usual. That makes rejigging your diet easier-- what is hard, is to let habitual purchases fall by the wayside so you're not buying new things at the same time as you stock up on all your boring go-to meals, which will end up displacing the fresh ideas you had, costing you twice as much weekly and eventually leaving you with a cupboard of expired inspiration.

 On the CLBB, we have ways of dealing with this cupboard. We have pantry cleanout challenges to use up the odd ingredients, or we each ask "What do I do with ---?" and collect the recipes that other experienced cooks share in sympathy. They've all been there, they know the drill.

 Problem is, I can't afford this leftover approach. I say this knowing there is a bag of raw peanuts and a jar of vine leaves lurking in my own cupboard, mocking me by their very presence. Not to mention the last of the green tapioca beads I bought in the Asian grocery, (which I have discovered are quite a pain to cook) and the mini-cupcake liners I never used for truffles after all.

 Staples like eggs, milk, bread or flour, cheese, juice, apples, carrots, nuts-- all of these items are higher priced now than they were when I moved back to Buffalo six years ago. Even for those who don't buy almond milk, cage-free vegetarian eggs, whole-grained or gluten-free flours, organic carrots. The prices will continue to climb, and what can we do? Try to make more and more money?

 Even that won't be enough, someday not too far away. There will be shortages, there is a need for a change in our food production systems. Right now, the cost of eating cleaner and more compassionately is being pushed onto those least able to bear that cost. You and I, the poor and infirm, the weak and helpless among us, the deliberately weakened animals born to a short life of hideous cruelty and a vile, protracted death. And the food we eat is less nourishing by degrees, more hurtful than helpful. This hasn't been going on for as long as it seems, either-- the same meals that nourished my grandmother to a sprightly 88, have caused or contributed to a veritable chaos of health in most of my generation of the family. And we ate fresh food, prepared from scratch, from childhood. Yet my mother and my two older sisters have had cancer. Myself, my younger sister, my niece, several cousins raised with us, all have chronic illnesses.

 The top six people at Tyson don't care, nor do the gods of Monsanto; and they don't share our burden. The people that live as vastly as kings, are also the people that run the media sources that make you and I feel terrible for buying juice we can afford for our kids. They want you to point to yourself when the question of where and how the fruit for that juice is grown comes up, they want YOU and I to identify with the hapless  growers and pickers and packers whose back-breaking labor is barely paid for, those countries full of people that cannot grow most of their own food anymore because our top corporations have purchased the land for us, spraying it indiscriminately with toxins that hurt everyone and everything. Those kings of industry, those top people, those media whores want you and I to shuffle guiltily between Walmart and the Co-op, making ourselves crazy and poor trying to solve the world's problems while they shovel images of the good life we can never have at us through the ads in Rachel Ray Everyday.

 And we have to do it; we have to stand against the worst that we see, we have to fight from a small base, making inroads as we can.

 I have my own plans for this, growing slowly and not-so-surely. But they won't show up much here in June, my friends. I'm having a hysterectomy at the end of May, and I won't be doing much cooking or shopping come June! So this blog will be on a limited hiatus, from June to sometime in July. Afterwards, it is hoped, my summer obsession with the farmers' market will spur me to inspired creations that I can post here to delight you.

 If you would like to write a guest post, though, during my off time or anytime this summer, please let me know! With recipes or without, it will be a welcome change. Meantime, expect a post or two before my June Hiatus.

 Have a lovely weekend!

   --Mari 

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

You Gotta Feed the Monkey...

  As a woman that became a full-time professional salaried nanny at the age of 18, and worked as one for most of the 25+ years since, I've become acquainted with my fair share of picky eaters.

 The battle of the table is a hard one to win, and often one of the primary frustrations of new parents and nannies alike. There are few issues that can be both so silly and so worrisome at the same time; and table troubles can have a lasting impact on more than the way your children will eat as adults.

 What happens too often is that parents and other caretakers, in an effort to make sure the kids are reasonably nourished, become short order cooks in their own kitchens, slaving away for love at a job they would never, now, do for money. And it gets worse and worse, instead of better, as children get used to being literally catered to!

 Enough. It isn't healthy for any child to think that the world revolves around them-- and most children will eat at least some of the healthy food they see their parents and other adults actually eating.

 Don't give in to boxed organic junk food, 10-times-a-day snacking, and don't give in to the frantic need to make sure your child has eaten enough, if it means you are jumping up and cooking three meals in sequence several times per day. Aren't there better things you could all be doing? Here's how, tried and true, culled from decades of experience in creating, and correcting, poor eating habits.

1. Put out a small meal or snack with no more than three items, including one thing your kid/kids usually will eat. This goes for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and maybe one of two daily snacks-- though at snack time, the selection should be smaller- 1-2 foods.

2. Sit down and eat with them, even if you have to leave after a few minutes. This makes more of a difference than you know, if you're into the habit of flying around doing other things while your kids scramble your brain with requests for more, different, better. When I stopped using snack time as a chance to catch up on side work, like emptying the dishwasher, the kids ate better consistently, and we all felt ready for that next play session.

3. Get out of the meal zone fast, after serving one meal or snack only-- do not cater to different tastes too much, do not worry if the meal doesn't get eaten. Instead, have a healthy something or other packed in a bag that they don't know about; have them quickly help you clean up a bit and then get out of the house or at least the kitchen, and play or read with the kiddos. When the little darling that wouldn't eat their oatmeal is starved and moaning about it, offer them that piece of fruit or cheese chunk or red pepper strip that you have socked away, and if they're really hungry, they will eat it. if not, I assure, they aren't going to starve to death.

4. Realize that no change comes instantly, and healthy eating is a time investment that pays off long. So make it fun, by letting them help grow and prepare some of their own healthy foods. Make it interesting, by having frequent picnics in odd places and at odd times, like a snow picnic I shared with some kiddos in front of a museum one winter's day; or a castle feast in their own playroom, with pictures of jugglers and performing lions that we drew and colored first, then hung with painter's tape on the walls for atmosphere, along with some scarf "tapestries." Last of all, make it a habit by eating well, most of the time, yourself. If you don't know the difference between a treat and an everyday food, neither will they.

 Here are the NOTS-- and they do become knotty problems difficult to solve, if you're not careful to avoid these typical parental/grandparent pitfalls.

1. Don't ask your kids what they want to eat for most meals-- they're not supposed to be raising themselves, making their own food choices and incidentally, your food budget choices along with. That's your job-- you are the one with superior discretion, an understanding of good nutrition and its effects over time, and the master of your own time budget, too. It's okay to give them a chance to participate in meal planning once in a while, but not often.

2. When offering a choice of snacks or other foods, give only two options, and NEVER give a completely open choice** -- small children aren't capable of making that kind of wise choice, and will tend to become fussier, confused, and harder to please, merely because you have left a big, big decision to their tiny minds. Instead, give them one option they often enjoy, and one you hope they might enjoy, and have tried with mixed results. And make sure, after they haven't taken that particular choice, to offer it again regularly, but not so constantly that it draws resistance from being overdone.
That's a classic move from impatience. You have to be the one to be patient, it's not their job.

 And if you do the same for other choices, like toys, books, music and games, you will gradually find your kids becoming more easily satisfied and less fussy. Kids need boundaries to thrive and learn, and this is one often overlooked way of setting reasonable limits, a way that helps provide security for them, as they absorb the comfort of knowing that you are in charge. That's what they really want and need, so give it to them, and let them get on with the real business of childhood-- learning and having fun, instead of making all the important decisions they are not yet prepared for.

3. Don't offer treats on a daily basis-- that means fruit rollups, Pirate Booty, and crackers, as well as candy and soda and cupcakes. These are junk foods, and shouldn't be part of your kids' daily diets. It doesn't matter if the corn was grown by monks and hasn't been near a chemical, it's still cheesy popcorn, it's still junk, just slightly healthier junk. A half PB& J made with fruit spread at least has some protein, and high-quality carbs if made on whole-grained bread. Fresh fruit, or a handful of dried, makes a reasonable serving of natural sugars, whereas fruit leathers give far more sugar per serving, and less fiber, than say, half a peeled apple or a 1/3 cup of melon chunks. They're less filling, too, leading to the need for more, more, more. Real food satisfies in more than one way-- junk satisfies taste buds only, while dulling them to the nuances of good, fresh food.


 Let's talk nuts and bolts, now, real foods for real kids. From the very beginning, offer wholesome whole grains, fresh fruit and veggies, chunks of plain soft tofu, (prepared gently and without seasoning or toppings. Cooked oatmeal or other whole grains should be a standard breakfast, with small amounts of natural sweetener like molasses, agave or real maple syrup, along with wholesome toppings. Soup or sandwiches make good breakfasts too; don't get fooled by advertisers that sweetened cold cereal is the best morning fuel. Lunches can be anything from a cold veggie plate, with hummus or spinach dip, to cooked rice and beans, to blended soups or smoothies and some fresh muffins or bread, or pasta salads. Try to offer some protein, some quality carb and some fresh veg or fruit (or both) at each meal. Nut milks, for those not allergic, make a great starting point for a quick soup or smoothie, and they have enough nutrition and heft on their own to be a substantial part of a child's meal.

Here's a few things you can make for snacks or small meals, that please kids and seem treaty when they aren't: artfully carved veg like tomato roses, carrot curls, hearts and other shapes carved from cuke or pepper sides; savory whole-wheat biscotti or biscuits (with cheese, sun-dried tomato snips, or pine nuts for more interest), fruit salads that have a little veg in them (like carrot shreds, tiny cubes of seeded tomato or cuke or zucchini), and nut butters with grated apple on pita triangles.

 By the time your child is one and a half at the latest, they should start to eat what you eat for dinner, minus overly spicy, or choky, fibrous foods. Get a food mill and use it when needed, to mash up what you're having into a digestible offering. Then keep a variety of fresh fruits, vegetables and cheese, bean dips or yogurt handy for snacks to fill in the cracks.

 Kids will often eat something raw, like pepper strips, that they won't eat cooked. Or sometimes, it's the other way around! Our perception of snack food doesn't have to be theirs-- be more creative and watch them eat healthier without issue. Stir fry or lightly sauté veggies with a tiny pinch of salt and offer at room temp. Throw the cherry tomatoes you'd thought they eat raw into a pan just long enough to soften slightly. And don't be afraid to gloss cooked veggies at dinner with a little butter and/or honey-- after decades of experimentation, I've found that it's better to get kids eating veg with a little fat than not eating them at all. My mother got us to ADORE cauliflower, broccoli, carrots, spinach-- all by serving them cooked tender-crisp and dotting them with a little butter and salt. To this day, I prefer vegetables to sweets.

 For years, I followed parent rules and gave children plain cooked broccoli, and watched them reject it-- parents have reason to be concerned about fat consumption, but the little bit of interest fat adds to veg, isn't where to cut it out of. When I started cooking vegetables at work the way I'd had them in childhood, lo and behold, more kids started eating more veg more easily. Besides, small children really do need fat for brain development, among other things; a severely low-fat diet doesn't produce healthy kids. Cut out the sugar, which they truly don't need.

 Well, aside from the notes below, this is probably enough to get most parents feeling a little insecure and defensive-- but please, don't be. We all make mistakes feeding kids, we all mean well, and we can all make changes for the better. Be patient, with yourself and them, and don't forget that kids are easily distracted-- use it! When they fuss about their meal, tell a joke and then pass the peas. Take them away from the table and do something else for a while. But don't make deals, don't serve them dessert instead of good food, and don't let yourself become a full-time chef in your own home.

 Peace, and a peaceful mealtime to you, Mari


 A young friend  of mine, enjoying brekkie.







**This goes double for restaurant meals-- You should look at the menu, choose two things, and offer the kids the choice, before the server comes to take your order, not while she's there.

 Not adhering to this simple rule is one of the primary sins of annoyance parents commit in restaurants, that drives servers and other patrons insane and practically guarantees bad service for everyone. A side benefit of limiting menu choices is, your family becomes welcome at all restaurants you patronize, because the employees know you're not going to waste their time asking little Johnny what he wants to eat and then arguing with him, while the rest of their customers are waiting and hungry. It's good childcare and good restaurant etiquette.

Friday, March 8, 2013

Going Wild with Onions

 As I was sitting in my kitchen office, watching the lovely sunshine illuminate the utterly unlovely back lawn as revealed by melted snow, I felt the need of some uplifting flavor to keep up my Spring Awakening, and thought about making this bread from Brother Juniper.

 Wild Rice and Onion Bread is a treasure of a recipe. It's both comforting and crisp, with an aroma as it bakes that draws people into the kitchen, hungry looks on their faces. One slice is never enough. It's beyond tried and true-- I've shared it with friends, many places, and then watched my friends share it too. Easy but delicious, with a crisp crackly crust and a soulful flavor that needs no adornment.

 Rolls from this dough are wonderful, or a nice round loaf, decoratively slashed; but frankly I've taken to making long baguette-styled loaves of it, in order to enjoy more of that savory crust! And the bread is gorgeous to see, speckled with grains that peek out from the crust. The savor and texture of the onion and rice make a for a fresh, hopeful almost-spring nosh.


WILD RICE AND ONION BREAD  from Brother Juniper's Bread Book--
                                                                       Slow Rise as Method and Metaphor, by Peter Reinhart

(Adapted slightly by Amvyn from the CLBB. Thanks, Amy!)


8 C unbleached high-gluten, bread, or all-purpose flour
1/3 C chopped dried onions or 1 C diced fresh onions
1/3 C brown sugar
2 Tbsp instant yeast or 2 1/2 dry active yeast, proofed in 4 Tbsp warm water
1 1/2 Tbsp sea salt
1 C cooked & cooled wild rice blend
1/3 C buttermilk
1 1/2 C warm water

Mix all the dried ingredients, including the yeast and rice, in a bowl, then add the liquid ingredients, reserving a little water for later for adjustments during kneading. Turn the dough out onto a floured counter and knead for 10-12 minutes, or until dough is elastic, unified and tacky but not sticky.

Return dough to a clean bowl, cover with a damp towel or plastic wrap, and slip the bowl into a plastic bag. Put it in a warm spot. Allow between 45 minutes to 1 1/2 hours for dough to rise/double.

Shape as desired, into 2 loaves or a loaf and rolls, place in greased pans, cover and let rise again, allowing 45-60 minutes for rising. Cut a star pattern in the top, or for rolls, brush with an egg wash made of 1 egg beaten with 1/2 C water. This is a good idea if making baguette, too.

Bake in a preheated 350 degree F oven, for approximately 45 minutes-- rolls will take 12-15 minutes. These loaves are best if sprayed with cold water frequently during the first 10 minutes of baking to make the crust brittle. Cool thoroughly on wire racks before cutting. Makes 2 round loaves, or about medium 15 rolls.
 Serve with soup, or with sandwich makings, or on its own, though a glass of wine would be sooo happy sitting next to a slice of this bread.


 Keep those thoughts of Spring coming! Peace, Mari

Wednesday, March 6, 2013

5 Thrifty Things

Here are five thrifty little ways to use what is in your house, right now, to eat better.


 1. STEMS--

  Don't toss the stems of parsley, cilantro or mint. Tie them with kitchen string or throw them onto a tea ball and let them simmer in whatever you're cooking, to infuse with their flavor after you've used all the leafy parts. In fact, cilantro stems are so tender to start with, you can chop them very fine and use as you would celery, to add flavor and a slight crunch to soups, sautes, chili.


2. ZEST--

 I may have said this before, but I'll repeat it now: citrus fruits are precious and wonderful, especially to those of us in cold climes, so don't throw out the rind. Peel off the washed skin of any and all citrus in irregular sections with a paring knife, and freeze in a ziploc bag or (my choice) freezer container, for up to 6 months. You can take it out of the freezer and use as you would fresh, without thawing. Whether you're making a salad dressing, a sauce, baked goods, a drink, etc., it works perfectly.


3. GO NUTS--

 When you're down to the end of the bag of almonds: a couple handfuls of nuts are just the thing to grind and use to thicken a stew, add to a sandwich filling, use in a dressing for fruit salad. Chop instead and mix with a dash each of cinnamon and cumin, and scatter over chili, curry, rice, a smoothie. Use whole in pasta sauce (sauteed first for a nuttier punch), or to change up your usual fajita vegetables or burrito fillings. Or simply toast in a dry pan with a pinch of sugar or salt and shake of dried spice, then top your next salad with more flavor and nutrition than croutons provide.


4.  POT of GOLD--

 As in lentils (really the red ones cook up as golden-orangey). Or try black, navy pea, dark red kidney, pinto, or some of Rancho Gordo's exotic items, but cook up a big pot of beans on the weekend or any time. Using a slowcooker makes it convenient to cook them while you're busy living, and having them on hand in the fridge means you have a meal starter, adaptable to nearly any ethnic cuisine. You'll be able to whip up an Indian feast of lentils and spinach, pinto and potato curry, or Tex-Mex, Greek, Italian or Southern meals. Coming home to prepped beans makes dinner at least 60% easier for me, and usually has the benefit of making me feel more creative, too, knowing I'm not starting from zero.

5.  I CAN PICKLE THAT--

 The brine or oil leftover from your last jar of olives, pickles, marinated peppers or artichokes, is NOT garbage-- it's flavor you've already purchased. Don't toss it! Instead, trim and shred/julienne carrots or zucchini, or cukes, or slice onions or peppers, and immerse them in the fluid for several hours to overnight. Now you have homemade pickled veg to perk up a salad, saute or salsa. If using pickle juice, add extra vinegar to lower the overall salt content, and to make it go farther. Also, don't hesitate to try hard pears, lemon rind, or lightly cooked root vegetables. Flavor-boosted veg, almost instantly. It keeps for a week or more before it starts to be visually unappealing. Diced, these tasty gems are nice on top of hot or cold soups, in stews, mashed into a topping for crakers or bruschetta, or simply served on a plate for a pre-meal nibble.


 It's been a weird winter, but I feel Spring rising up. Good eating to you, friends.

  --Mari

Friday, January 11, 2013

Tried & Tweaked Thursday, Gone Bad.

During my first solid year of 100 % veghead living, I wasn't frantic as some get, since I'd long been used to eating veg-centric meals; but I did want to increase my repertoire, if only to have a better chance at pleasing my picky-eater of a partner. He still ate meat, and I wasn't wild about making the whole meal-with-meat-on-the-side thing happen every damn day. In those days we frequently had dinner guests, too, and I was determined to show them all that plant-based food was not going to leave them starved and unsatisfied. In Indianapolis, saying I was vegetarian was often taken to mean I dined only on salad, tofu, and a side of self-righteous anger.

So I stretched out, subscribed to some new food mags, and went on a deep search of my old cookbooks for overlooked recipes. In Rose Elliot's Complete Vegetarian, I discovered a world of easy, adaptable recipes that didn't strain a grocery budget. There were fancy mains, inventive and classic salads, sauces I'd never dreamt of, and simple, pleasing family-style dishes like Veggie Hotpot. This was a casserole of sliced potatoes, layered with some chopped veg and a walnut-studded tomato sauce, flavored with oregano. The kind of fireside comfort food best served with a plain green vegetable side and maybe some rolls.

Once we tried it, and it passed muster, I made it again and again, learning to slant it towards whatever flavor mood I was in. As written, it was a great and easy meal for a busy university student (as I was at the time), because I could throw it together in minutes after coming home from my last class and then stick it in the oven while I wrote papers, read chapters, or did laundry.

Back then I mostly chunked the potatoes, and often used jarred salsa in place of the chopped tomatoes-- still a good way to go. I rarely bothered to pre-cook the taters, preferring to add more liquid (like a cup of vino and a splash of soy sauce), so that they would just cook through while adding their starch and absorbing enough of the liquid to make the sauce, well, saucy.

 Yesterday, when I opened the old book to refresh my memory, I decided on another tweak-- one I've done in the past, though it's been years. I mashed the potatoes, along with a rutabaga. And layered everything with some leftover cheese fondue (otherwise, it's a perfectly vegan dish) and served it bubbling hot to my (current and final) hubby-man.

 Who hated it. In fact, he said it was "bland and depressing," which I didn't agree with or even understand. He clarified for me, saying it tasted like something you'd feed an orphan in a Dickens novel. Not the reaction I was hoping for. I spent the evening calling him Dick Whittington (not actually from Dickens), but was crushed anyhow.

 I make it a policy not to share things here that haven't garnered a good response from others, so I won't share this recipe yet, not till I've gotten my zing back and found a version that is LOVED. But I feel it's possibly helpful for others to note that we all make cooking mistakes, have failures. And I am enjoying the leftovers, and would disagree heartily with my man's assessment. Taste varies, and we can't get around that sometimes.

 Maybe I'm just attracted to picky guys. Peace, Mari

Thursday, January 3, 2013

Refreshment: Changing the Way We Shop

During a time of year that many are making resolutions to eat differently, I'm finding a need to shop differently, too, hoping to combat a growing problem. It's an issue we've all encountered, I believe--

 I've been going stale in the kitchen.

 Low income, outside pressures and the will-o-the-wisp palate of my hubby-man have combined lately, giving me a less-than-enthusiastic outlook on our daily diet. THIS is hard to face, coming from a person that loves cooking and eating more than almost any other activities. And when I'm not actively cooking or eating, I'm reading about them. Yet when it comes time to make dinner, I've felt stalled, bored, dull. Wishing someone would just come and feed me for a week; but feed me with nutritious, fresh food such as I dream of making in my best moments.

 The dream is there; but when you're in the grocery store you've been going to for years, the same products sit on the same shelves (and I bitch crazily if they move those shelves around too often!!!) and you find yourself responding to your same budget by buying the same old things.

 Tough to break cost-related food habits, isn't it? Well, I tried by adding a few new items, intending to make stuffed grape leaves, soy spread, whatever... and so I have an unused jar of vine leaves taking up cupboard space, and a year-old packet of organic soybeans that will now take ages to cook.

Not helpful! While the urge to change up the cuisines I borrow from was a good one, I'm sure, I may have gone too far into hopefulness-- it's been years since I made grape leaves, or cooked soybeans from dry. Too much extra thought required to use them, and so they sit, a waste of money that could, back when I bought them, have been spent on more immediate needs.

 Ruminating on the situation while rereading old cookbooks for inspiration, I realized that a new store, a new set of them really, could help. It was a strategy of mine back when I lived in Indianapolis, to switch up the places where I did the bulk of my shopping. It means traveling farther, and getting used to new traffic patterns, but it has the benefit of forcing me to think outside the usual parameters of what we eat. The possible downsides include temporarily increased costs, since it's easy to go a little nuts over new items; and more outrageously overconfident buying.

 That's why, when I tread the aisles of my new stores this week, I'll have just a few newish recipes in mind-- and a list of necessities in hand. I guarantee I'll still be buying oatmeal, for its many virtues, and some kind of green vegetable. Sooner or later, I know I'll be excited to go back to some of my old haunts, hopefully with a cartful of awesome new vegetables and other goodies.

 Where do you shop? What's always in your cart? I'd love to know.

  Peace, and Happy New Year--
                                               
                                                Mari

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Taste and See

 For my first ten years of cooking, I hardly ever tried a bit of what I was making, in the early stages. Instead, I would taste near serving time and then, usually, add a mad flurry of seasoning in a desperate effort to make the dish taste as I'd hoped it would.

 Of course, that only works to a degree, and it wastes a good deal of spice or other seasoning, because the flavors have to do all their work upfront instead of being able to meld and deepen through cooking. You also tend to use more salt, and who needs that?

 Now, it's not a bad idea to add a small shower, at the end of cooking, of the seasonings you used early on, to bring up and brighten those flavors-- a sort of callback. This goes for uncooked foods, too; anything you prepare can benefit from a final sprinkle. But that tactic should be done as freshening, rather than an attempt to do a major adjustment. Real adjustment comes from gradual, attentive tasting and adding, from letting time work it's magic. The adjustment in my own approach was just as gradual, but steady, once it began.

 My epiphany came while cooking for work-- taking care of young children and their parents, I found myself cooking for families with different palates than my own, who were used to using less salt in some cases, and had drawers of spices very different from my own stock of favorites. My crazed dump-in-a-half-jar system was not appropriate, I knew, for tender young taste buds. Neither did I wish to stress my employers' budgets that way, in the name of caring for them.

 So, I began to taste for seasoning, and to get a sense of the ingredients I was cooking with, during the chopping stage of prep. It is difficult to cook decently with food you didn't pick out personally, without tasting first. The tomatoes can look ripe and rosy, and still taste flat, bland and watery. the carrots may be sweet or bitter and soapy. Tasting as you chop informs your understanding of the textures of the food as well-- and that can be critical to the success of a dish. Knowing how hard, how ripe, how juicy an ingredient is, will help you know how much heat to apply, or how much of a tenderizing element, such as vinegar, that you might need to add.

 This must seem pretty obvious by now, yet so few cooks of my acquaintance do this, that I'm  surprised.  Many talented home cooks I know, never taste. They still turn out good food, but imagine how mind-blowing their dishes could be, then, if they took these extra steps during meal prep.

 The final burst of clarity came after I began working as personal chef to a fantastic boss with a sophisticated, well-traveled sense of taste. Her palate, and her husband's, had been honed by living in some of the finest food cities on the planet, and I wanted very much to please and delight, as well as nourish them. I found myself using fewer seasonings, in lesser amount, to greater effect than ever. I often asked my boss to taste along with me, thereby getting a sense of what she enjoyed. We talked about the food, and I got to experiment freely, in a truly well-equipped kitchen. My cooking, after a long evolution, had solidified into a recognizable style that was generally pleasing and always well accepted. My food had gotten better, my use of ingredients had reached new heights--  a more judicious and informed way of seasoning had truly transformed my cooking. I went on to serve other clients, with their own unique senses of taste, and today, sampling the raw material before cooking is second nature to me.

 What about you?


 

Sunday, December 9, 2012

Making Food Difficult, or Making Do?

 Quite often, as I am hanging around food and recipe forums and blogs, looking for inspiration, a new approach to an old idea, or maybe even-- shock of shocks-- to learn something from other experienced cooks, I find myself disheartened as I read, by the human need to deify some process or skill, tool, or recipe. It's happened so much recently, I want to speak about it here.

Example: making your own pie crust used to be the norm, but because it is not anymore, people now fear it; and when they fail the first time, they assume it is due to the recipe, or that pastry-making is such a difficult and arcane process that you must have wizard-like powers and a magic spell to pull it off.

 You don't. What you need is practice, so that you can get beyond the fear that leads to the few mistakes that may ruin your pastry. And a little understanding of the chemical facts, though just practicing will get you there. It's actually very simple and straighforward, but try telling that to someone that messed it up once. They won't believe you, no matter your experience and skill.

 Instead, they'll spend hundreds of dollars on specialized equipment, cookbooks and flours. They'll listen closely to authoritative blowhards who tout "foolproof" recipes or complicated methods. The fact that my grandmother made superlative flaky, light and tender crusts with the cheapest of ingredients, a simple old rolling pin and a floured tabletop, makes no impression on these people. Her lack of formal culinary education doesn't convince them they could do the same with practice. They want instant success, they want Credentials, and they want to learn something more impressive than the fact that the chunks of cold fat, barely blended into the flour, will cause the forming dough to puff around them, and then melt in the oven, leaving hollows that make that flaky crust. It's just the truth-- it's not sexy, it's not scary, so why make use of it?

 When you complicate it, you rob yourself of the chance to grow naturally as a cook. It's sort of an odd idea, to want to avoid giving yourself time to make mistakes and learn from them, when you could just pump cash into the problem. The approach extends to everything from cookware to the proper way to use EVOO. People get a little information, and then let guidelines become sacred laws; people see a professional on TV use a technique, and then defend every aspect of that experience, making it precious. And when it isn't working, they go looking for a new object of worship, a new guru, a pan made with more expensive metals.

 It's cooking, it's baking, and though there are some truths that hold-- like the temperature at which water will boil at a given elevation (and depending on the purity)-- most things about cooking, indeed, about recipes themselves, are changeable, adaptable. Most elements of cooking get better with practice. If the recipe didn't work for you, why not try to figure out why, instead of deciding that the person who encouraged you to try it was wrong? Why not read up on the process a little more, so you can see where you might have gone wrong, then try it again and see what happens? Surely, if you have extra cash to spare going from recipe to recipe in search of perfection, you can afford to retry a recipe; and the bonus is, you'll have some understanding of it already, having tried it once. You're more likely to succeed the second time, with care and attention. It's far more practical than starting over from scratch with another unfamiliar recipe.

 Learning to make the recipes, techniques and tools at hand work for you, is learning to rely on your own taste, your intuition, yourself. It is, in fact, learning to cook. And once you've given yourself permission to explore what once went wrong, you'll better understand why when it goes right. You won't need to search for the right recipe to fit your ingredients most of the time-- instead, you'll understand how to adjust recipes to suit what you have, how to substitute one tool for another, how to make a dish go from "meh" to "wow!" without a run to the store.

 Cooking is a most personal endeavor, and you alone can set your comfort level-- but you alone can push your own boundaries. That, I believe, is a better type of search.


Peace, Mari 

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Willpower Wednesday

 Tomorrow is a big day for foodies here, and a big twinge for some of us vegetarians. We may go through the year dealing comfortably with other people's eating habits, as we should; but the day we have to face a huge and obvious carcass can be trying. It's not an anonymous hunk, it's got wings and legs and you know exactly what it's suppose to look like.

 And then there are the other mealtime trials. Cooks putting bacon in the green beans, gelatin in salads or pies, people slathering whipped cream on the otherwise safe desserts before the vegan gets a slice. It's a like an obstacle course on the table, all while sitting with your family that loves you-- sometimes to death!

 This is why people go out to drink heavily on the Friday after. Family Drama is a flippant phrase that doesn't begin to cover the reality some of us face each winter.

While the vegetables served have always been the true heart of this feast for me, the other necessary element, sharing, is more important than the food, yet so bound up within the complex web of food-related memory and emotions, the simplest detail can set off a schism, fueled by family dynamics that seem impossible to change.

 Pumpkin pies-- who makes them now that the former family baker is gone, and do they spice them the way you like? If you bring wine, are you supposed to please the hosts or the other guests with your choice? Little rivalries can expand in the heat of the holiday oven. Siblings and relatives  push our buttons as we plan our gatherings. The imperfections in how we love one another rise to consume us.

 Some years can sail by with barely a flutter of dysfunctionality, some drag you down before you even get to Thursday, with a weight of discord you cannot seem to remove. You know it will be worse once you're there. It's like a sick TV show-- let's just stuff 20 people with unresolved issues into a room meant for eight and see what happens!

Don't forget to bring that wine.




 If you decide to give it a rest for one November, one December, you know you're going to pay. I've thought about doing that, this year, myself, with a weight on my chest as I contemplate it only because of my mother. For reasons I can't comprehend, she needs this from us, even though she will experience as much tension, as little pleasure, as the rest of us. It won't be nice, there won't be good conversation, there won't be a sense of togetherness, but only the appearance of that.

 Maybe that's all we can do, some years-- show up for the sake of showing up. Avoid our expectations of the event, good and bad, and try to be our calmest, kindest selves going in. Family, friendships, marriage, art, all require this of us, to keep showing up no matter what it costs. Investment through sheer time put in, which hopefully pays a dividend here and there.

 Or maybe it means I need to refocus, and shift my perspective. To be thankful that whatever tattered family rituals are wrapped around it, and however much of my pie gets eaten, tomorrow is just another Thursday, and in 24 hours, it's over again.

Peaceful feelings to you; today, tomorrow and all the rest of this November--
                                                                                                                                Mari

                                                                                                   

Monday, November 12, 2012

Neat Ideas from Other Foodies

 With all the crazy baking hype happening on the foodie side of the 'net, it's hard to decide what to make now, and what to make later, when life is calm again. I like to laze my way through old stacks of holiday mags, and re-read classic entertaining cookbooks, too; the other day I pulled The Silver Palate Good Times off the shelf and enjoyed it all over, letting it set little sparks in the cooking cave of my brain. Great way to spend some downtime if you don't start pressuring yourself as many of us do, come November.

 Don't go crazy overthinking it! Pick one or two stellar new items to make; get it done, then move on if you like.

 My tea bread, here, is a must for December.


 BUT-- here are a few great links from other blogs or sites, to give you a fresh outlook.

Beautifully shaped dinner rolls, enhanced with some of the seasonal fruit that they resemble. This neat take on a harvest presentation can also be applied to any fairly firm yeast bread recipe you are comfortable making. Cheese bread comes to mind, as does a fruity stollen dough, brushed with cream and sprinkled with orange or gold sugars to further "pumpkinise" the look.

 http://www.beyondkimchee.com/pumpkin-dinner-rolls/


 Here's a link to a gorgeously cool, but simple to make, fizzy drink for any party or special night, from The Cocktail Lady-- she's been on a quest to find the perfect drink for lo these past 269 days, and here, she just may have found it.

 http://cocktail365.blogspot.com/2012/11/bubbles-blue.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+aYearOfCocktails+%28%C2%A0%C2%A0%C2%A0%C2%A0%C2%A0%C2%A0%C2%A0A+Year+of+Cocktails%29


This is a link to a fine, more warming drink. We'll just have to get past the blog title, because it's a neat blog: http://spoonforkbacon.com/2012/11/honeycrisp-bourbon-spiced-cider/


 And to go with the drinks, a trippy little dip that won't bloat you with high salt content, and is a bit different than the usual, from Sodium Girl: http://www.sodiumgirl.com/im-back-broccoli-dip/#comment-9060

Or, some spicy-sweet nuts that blow away prepared nut mixes, from Food and Wine: http://www.foodandwine.com/recipes/sweet-and-spicy-sesame-walnuts


 Then some beautiful vegetables that could MAKE the feast, in a twist on the standard recipe, from epicurious. They include two ways to serve. http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/Green-Bean-Casserole-360809

And a spicy little number that throws out the usual cauliflower notions, from Cooking Light. Interesting, colorful, and tasty: http://www.myrecipes.com/recipe/baked-italian-style-cauliflower-50400000116797/


Different dessert dreams? How about these pretty, pale pear-pops spiked with Riesling? These could freshen everyone up after a dense meal, and still leave room for a thin slice of pie. http://www.foodandwine.com/recipes/riesling-pear-pops


 Thinking of what you could do to shake up those traditional guests, now, aren't you?

 Peace in your planning, 
                        Mari

Friday, November 9, 2012

The White Stuff-- Sour Cream Ice Cream

 It's the second week of November, and my family has already held the secret meeting where they decide who will host the various holiday dinners of the next few months.

 Not me-- big surprise! I'm not upset, since I can't afford it this year anyhow. And if that small slight is the worst of the power plays that occur over these winter holidays, I'll be happy and grateful.

 You know how it is-- half of your family thinks your a) food, b) spouse/friends, c) living space, or d) religious ideas, are too weird to entrust a whole, important gathering to YOU. So someone else takes the lead, then bitches about how the load always falls on them. Or something like that. And you, or me in this case, are relegated to bringing the salad.

That's how it was for me in my twenties, until the one year I campaigned harder than usual to be allowed to bring a dessert. I brought a chocolate mousse cake glazed with ganache and sprinkled with dark cocoa-- and I haven't brought the salad since, unless I really wanted to in a given year.

 That is why I now spend extra prep time on finding a special dish to bring to each family party I attend. They forgive me for being myself, at least temporarily, and remember my pies, cakes, lasagna, or green bean salad fondly. I let it go, that they cannot understand why I want to be included in the discussion/decision. It isn't the only way to achieve harmony, but it works for me.

 I think I've found the perfect thing for this year's hell holy days: a rich, melt-in-your-mouth sour cream ice cream that would be perfect with just about any pie imaginable. And, as many of my new and old favorite recipes tend to be, it is both simple in concept and easy to make.

 The reason I stumbled across it so early in the season of frantic recipe searching, is that the hubby-man is conducting a coffee tasting of the newest Starbuck's Christmas Blend today, for his Coffee Master certification; and he asked me to find a dessert that would complement and bring out the flavor. The new blend, to be introduced in stores soon, is a lighter roast, with a fruity acidity that I immediately knew I wanted to showcase. We did several tastings, and the surprise flavor that blew us away, was when I dipped a finger into some sour cream leftover from a taco fest, and then sipped the Christmas Blonde brew. We agreed, it was a special match. But instead of making a cookie or cake with sour cream, I searched for an ice cream recipe, and found this jewel, that tastes as rich as cheesecake, putting the tangy sour cream flavor right up front.

 I've paired it, for Garrett's event, with a simple lemon biscotti studded with candied ginger; but the original article the recipe came from suggested a pairing with fruit pies, and I can't think of any pie or cobbler that would not be enhanced by a scoop of this. You could eat a bowl of this on its own, or with fresh fruit-- raspberries, pears, mango, sauteed apples. But if you want this to shine even brighter, put a scoop on top of a fruit pie, even a mince or pumpkin, and it couldn't fail on a walnut or pecan pie, a cranberry crisp, or instead of the usual whipped cream on top of rice pudding or any chocolate cake or custard.

 And now, I'm hungry! The recipe is from epicurious.com, and first appeared in the much-mourned food mag, Gourmet. My own notes follow.



Sour-Cream Ice Cream 
 
Gourmet | July 2009
by Ian Knauer
 
yield: Makes about 5 cups
active time: 15 min
total time: 6 1/4 hr (includes freezing)

Ingredients:
 
1 (16-ounces) container chilled sour cream (full fat, not light or fat-free; they're too watery)
1 cup chilled half-and-half
3/4 cup sugar
1/2 cup chilled heavy cream
2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Equipment: an ice cream maker

 
Prep:
 
Purée all ingredients with 1/8 teaspoon salt in a blender* until mixture is smooth and sugar has dissolved. Chill until very, very cold.
Freeze mixture in ice cream maker. Transfer to an airtight container and put in freezer to firm up, about 6 hours.
 
Cooks' notes:
 •Cream mixture can be chilled up to 24 hours.
•Ice cream can be made 3 days ahead. Let soften 20 minutes in the refrigerator before serving. 
 
*Mari's notes-- I used a whisk to blend the mix thoroughly, and it wasn't difficult. The mixture is rich and soft, so do worry if your ice cream maker can't get it super firm. It will firm up nicely, in a covered container, in the freezer, preferably overnight, but give it more than the 6 hours suggested even if overnight isn't possible, just to make sure. There's nothing more annoying to try to serve, than not-set ice cream! Once firmed, it does need a little time to soften, as noted, but I'd check it at 10 minutes instead of 20, to be safe.
 
Enjoy, and have a great weekend--
 
                                                    Mari
 


 
 

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Scenes from a Storm

We've been prepping for Sandy for a few days. It seems there is always more to do, and then the problems that crop up, like an already leaky basement and a malfunctioning sump pump, get in the way, taking up time, cash and energy. Three things I'm perpetually short on.

 Boo hoo, right? At least we're not under water now. I hate to think of all the small animals that have lost their lives or homes to this storm, unable to get to high enough ground. They may have instinct, but they don't have our resources. The damage continues to increase, to human and animal alike.

 Before tomorrow, when the storm is supposed to hit us here in WNY, let's take a minute to help, if we can, those already affected.

 You can donate here.

 Meanwhile, look over your own preparations: Do have extra water, not just for drinking, but for washing hands, feeding animals, flushing toilets? Do you have a flashlight in every room, for easy access? Have you cooked food ahead of time, so you won't have to eat packaged junk exclusively, should we lose power?

 Hope so. And don't forget to check in with elderly or infirm neighbors that may need assistance-- make a plan with them, about how often you'll call on them. See if you can help them now, getting what they need. I have to do this myself, so I sign off here, with one extra cool link-- how to waterproof matches.


 Stay safe, stay warm, and if I don't see you before then, Happy Hallowe'en!
                                   
                                                                                                                        --Mari



                                          

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Sweet Fruits of Fall

 Throughout our house, you'll see the colorful evidence of cooler weather-- squashes, gourds, pumpkins, sweet potatoes, eggplant, all clustered as decoration on the buffet, tables and hearth, while they await their turn in the oven.

 I love the sweet smoky flavor of October, when I make our first fireplace fires, bake our first pumpkins for pies and muffins and pancakes, make chili with leftover chunks of whatever roasted peppers and squash I bought the week before. And I'm sad that our local farmer's market will be ended for the year. I stock up on the few vegetables that have held out, knowing they will be sweeter and perkier in taste, precisely because of the cold temps we've had here.

 As of this writing, I've made butternut soup once already, baked some yams, and eaten my way through half an orchard full of apples in the form of salads, on sandwiches, in stews and breads. I'm still on the lookout for perfect grapes to press into flatbread, and more dark greens like kale and chard, that are always at their best around this time of year. I'm ready to mess around with some cranberries, now, too, throwing them into anything I make, like this fruity chutney, full of peppers, craisins and slivered almonds for crunch:





 We've had a fondue dinner, and a giant baked apple pancake for a weekend breakfast. I've got red pears for a tart, maybe, and peach juice blend waiting to be used in Peach Oats Brulee.

 Eating these dishes a few times per year, at the moment when the foods they're based on are at their peak, is one way I can always connect to the world under my feet. It feels good, it feels right, it keeps me earthy and productive. And a meal you prepare by grabbing just what you can chop and throw into the oven, is a boon to any writer.

 It's also a great way to make sauce, chili, or ratatouille-- put the appropriate chopped veg on a towel to absorb liquid for a minute, set in a large pan and coat lightly with olive oil, sprinkle with oregano and rosemary or the other seasonings that make sense, and let your oven do most of the work. You might have to stir after 25 minutes or so. Oh my, what a task. It's done when it hits the texture you like. For sauce, there's no more to be done but to toss with your cooked hot pasta, or ladle over polenta. If the sauce is too thin, add and stir in a Tbsp. or so of tomato paste, and let bubble away a bit longer.

 Or you can drizzle a bit of vinegar onto the roasted veg for a salad, and top with chopped nuts; maybe serving it over fresh, raw spinach leaves, or a bed of shredded apples or pita.

 Easy, warming, tasty, perfect for now.

  Eat well; October is almost gone!

  --Mari