Junk Food Breakfasts and Bean Dip Dinners... A Spree

Now that the snow is falling, and staying, we Buffalonians have to get our winter attitudes on. The hubby-man got up earlier today, knowing he'd need time to wipe off the car and maybe even (gasp!) shovel, and we can look forward to that till April, at least.

Remember, it snowed the first week of May last year; melting on impact, but still!

Good thing that pantry inventory took place a few days ago, because the truest sign of January for me is not wanting to run to the grocery store again just to make a meal. Not being able to afford another grocery run plays into it also. That means we have to get creative. While my neighbors are living on baked chicken thighs, I'm figuring out what to make for breakfast two days after the oatmeal runs out... and seeing if I can stretch it till Monday.

It's times like this I find myself baking a lot, but you can only eat so many muffins or pancakes, whole-grained or not. And biscuits, and pizza. After the first few easy options, weird assemblages may occur. The brie I bought to take somewhere never got taken, and so we end up eating an oddly luxe dinner of brie torta with a quick homemade chutney, nuts, pears and a baguette, salad on the side.

This morning I discovered that brie and soybacon work well together, thrown into a quick vegetable hash; the last few pieces of baguette became individual bread puddings. Apparently, the key to cooking breads and quick breads in the microwave is adding extra liquid, and cooking on low power. I figured it out last January, when I needed to make corn bread and didn't have the time to preheat the oven.

For me this is junk food cooking, when I use the microwave for more than melting chocolate, and let those forgotten frozen veggies take center stage. When despite the resolution to eat less starch, I rely on the old bag of potatoes three times in two days. It gets worse, too.

How about an English muffin stuffed with cheese, fakin' bits, onions and green pepper slices?

A veg imitation of fast food horrors, but tastier.

Then I'm stuck making dinner out a can of beans and some olives. A million ways to cook them, yes, but doesn't bean dip sound better than most of them? Less work, too. Mash 'em with spices, saute with the final garlic clove, top it all with cheese and olives or leftover chopped tomatoes from a can, and bake the corn tortillas hiding in the back of the fridge into chips. Put Netflix on. Desperation, I mean dinner, is served.

It's the January Spree-- when each day, my standards for highest health go down a notch as the fridge slowly empties. First, it's an okay meal as long as I use the fresh veg. Then as long as there's some veg in it, canned or frozen or whatever. Then, well, as long as I throw in some fruit. Soon, we're down to three frozen stawberries and some craisins, and hey, peach jam... but how can we complain about three meals a day?

I think I can just make it till Monday. Have a good weekend, and be sure to stop back next week: Wednesday is our trip to Scotland with The Crafty Green Poet.

Peace, Mari

Mother Hubbard's Messy Old Cupboard

Speaking of the pantry, as I did in the last post here, I'm dreading opening mine, knowing it desperately needs to be cleaned out.

Aside from the bar of concentrated dried tamarind that's caught there in the back of my lazy-susan cupboard, there's bound to be partly used bags of unmarked & unidentifiable grains, dried chilies that have sprung loose from their containers, cans of ancient milk products and a light dusting of cocoa. I suspect I'll find a few things I don't even remember buying; you know, the items you purchase to use in just one recipe but never do. They linger in the dark corners until you discover them during a massive cleanout, and then you rail at yourself for wasting the money.

Or maybe you don't rail at yourself for that kind of thing, but I do.

Despite all this, it's time. Eating habits need space to change, so it's out with some of the old, like the canned evaporated milk, and in with the new organic dates.

Out with cane sugar and in with agave syrup, flax seeds and a fresh can of water chestnuts; they are a phenomenal way to add a surprise crunch to any soup, salad, or sandwich, and they keep a long, long time... till my next pantry rampage, very likely. This effort will somehow help me jump-start my mental clarity, I hope-- neat cabinets lead, for me, to a clearer mind.

In the meantime, I'm searching the very back of the deepest shelf for the ingredients (I know I did buy) for a homemade gluten-free flour mix found by way of the reliable CLBB. I don't seem to have a gluten sensitivity but it's a good bet to have a few egalitarian recipes in your repertoire; you never know who'll show up for dinner. Me being a big fan of pastry and baking, I really want to be able to make good, delicous pies, breads and cakes for everyone, even though they eat raw/vegan/gluten-free; so this mix from Bette Hagman (author of The Gluten-Free Gourmet) helps. All the components can be used separately, too. I haven't tried it for yeast bread yet, but for crackers, cakes, muffins, and crumbly scones or pie dough, it fills the bill.


Featherlight Flour Mix (Bette Hagman)

1 part rice flour
1 part tapioca flour
1 part cornstarch
1 part potato flour (note that potato flour and potato starch are two different things)


Mix and store in an airtight container. Use as you would any flour.


Looking ahead, I'm delighted to announce I'll be having a guest post from The Crafty Green Poet, who will share what it's like to be veg in Scotland these days.

Wishing you a clean and uncluttered view-- Peace, Mari

2012: The Year of Eating Dangerously

Looking out at our winter's first stay-put dusting of snow, it seems wrong that there are still buds on the tree from a few days of 50 degree temps. You can see that there are subtle changes happening in our weather systems, changes that may cause more unpredictability. Changes that will certainly continue to affect how and what we grow and consume. Last year the strawberries in our area were almost non-existent, beaten by hard rains that didn't let up. But the long, mild Autumn kept us in fresh peppers till November.

These little differences do pop up over time, of course, but the gradual shift from 4 clearly defined seasons to a weird melding of three-ish has been noticeable here in WNY. It's not a fluke, it's a sign-- directional or warning, I'm not qualified to say, but let's not pretend we don't see the patterns forming.

I expect that having a versatile cooking style and a well-stocked pantry may become more than convenient in future-- it may become necessity, or at least a huge bonus. Let's face it, being able to cook well with abundant, stellar ingredients is no great shakes. You don't have to do much there. Being able to make nourishing, sustaining and tasteful meals from what's on hand is a real skill, at times maybe even a life-saving one. It's something I'm always working on, aided by a low income and a love of reading about food.

My mother and grandmother both developed this skill. Mom had 6 kids of her own to feed, and later a couple of our cousins, too. Gram lived through the Great Depression. The need was there, and they didn't shirk their duty. I'm hoping to take it farther, in a way: making good food without meat, heat, or a bevy of seasonings if needed. You never know what you'll be up against in a crisis!

So many people have suffered lately from weather events, but we tend to think of those crises in terms of what material goods are lost in the end. What about how they got through it? Surely that is worth focusing on, too. From some firsthand accounts I've read, a shared meal put together by a circle of equally affected neighbors has truly been a way to face down disaster and bolster weatherbeaten spirits, just as a progressive dinner is a way to build up community in good times. I ask myself, how would I come through such an experience? It's not an idle question; I saw the blizzard of '77, and it was no joke, whatever Mayor Griffin said about settling in with a six-pack.

* Perry's ice Cream-- a homegrown favorite!


In the meantime, I think we can hope for the best, and prepare ourselves by learning to be flexible, generous and forgiving, as cooks and eaters; and conscientious as consumers. Do what you can towards keeping this a blue & green planet, and skip the guilt over what you can't.

It's been just over a year since I began this blog. In 2012, I am going back to basics in some ways-- rekindling my hubby-man's connection to our kitchen-life by revisiting old recipes we made together over a decade ago. And I want to learn more, try more ways of eating, more types of restaurants, more styles of food prep, more choices in baking. I'd like to take it to the edge-- but honestly, I'm not sure what that means.

Do me a favor, if you would, and post your own food resolutions, fears or predictions here. Or tell the tale of your year in food... I love to read a good story!

Peace, Mari

A Cool Yule and Crunchy Cookies

Solstice is here. Winter assembles itself from cold, wind, and the moisture that will soon become snow and slush instead of the hard rains we've been getting. The long stretch of mild weather has turned our heads a little, but the wise have already prepared for the next phase. Maybe the wiser are prepared but still enjoy the unseasonably green grass, higher-than-average temps and absence of having to shovel.

I'm not as prepped as I'd like to be: there are leaves on my lawns, raked into piles that never got moved to the curb-side where the Village would have kindly removed them, right up until yesterday. I haven't had the heart to seal the back doors with plastic, hoping for one more chance to open them and hear the sounds of the world beyond my backyard. Christmas cookies, however, have already been made, exchanged & consumed. (See the link on the recipe title to get a glimpse of the Polenta cookies).

The wheel of the years rolls quicker at the end, bringing me close to the first anniversary of this adventure in communication. It's been mostly howling in a closet, but I've learned quite a bit, and I'm staying here for the forseeable future, under a shortened title.

Next month, next year, will be different in subtle ways... I used to host family dinners, now I'm planning on getting out ever more and more, having friends in, entertaining casually. I like cooking for people whose tastes I don't know; it takes away the limits. There'll be more strident budgeting to make that all happen, which means daily food should get simpler. I can live with that.

Oh, and I'm lining up guest posters to enlarge the scope of things. As the title change will signal. It is more than just semantics, as I take stock of the first year of this blog: it's a mandate to be out there, showing by delicious example that plant-based eating is wonderful, joyous, economical and fun.

Wishing you a beautiful Solstice and a warm, cozy end to the year.

Peaceful Seasons, Mari


These lightly sweet, crunchy, yellow cookies delicately touched with lemon, bring sunny flavor to a wintertime cup of hot tea. I made them at our family holiday cookie bake & take. My notes are below the recipe.


ITALIAN POLENTA COOKIES, Martha Stewart Living, November 2005

Yield: Makes about 2 1/2 dozen

Ingredients

1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup Italian polenta, or yellow cornmeal*
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
2/3 cup sugar
1 tablespoon lemon zest, (1 lemon)
1 large egg, plus 1 large egg yolk
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract


Directions

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Whisk together flour, polenta, and salt in a medium bowl; set aside. Put butter, sugar, and lemon zest in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment; beat on medium-high speed until pale and fluffy, about 2 minutes, scraping down the sides of the bowl as needed.

2. Add egg and egg yolk, one at a time, beating after each addition to combine. Mix in vanilla. Gradually add flour mixture, and beat until just combined. Transfer batter to a pastry bag fitted with a 1/2-inch star tip (such as Ateco No. 826).

3. Pipe S shapes about 3 inches long and 1 inch wide, spaced 1 1/2 inches apart on baking sheets lined with parchment. Bake cookies until edges are golden, 15 to 18 minutes. Transfer cookies on parchment to wire racks; let cool about 10 minutes. Remove cookies from parchment, and transfer to racks to cool completely.


*Mari's Notes-- These were a success with my family and friends, and we agreed they truly shine dipped into steaming tea, although I've since discovered they're not bad with white wine! They are, however, made from a thick dough that takes some strength to push through the pastry bag. My pastry bag is the Williams-Sonoma mechanical type; I'm not sure a regular cloth style wouldn't work better here. But even my gimpy arms made it through the process, and I made a double batch!

As to the cornmeal issue, I used 3/4 Bob's Red Mill Polenta, and 1/4 Hodgson Mill's organic white cornmeal, and we all agreed, the texture is great-- very crunchy and crisp (these are not a child's cookies!) with just enough of a crumbly edge. They demand actual chewing, but aren't tooth-breakingly hard.

You could make them more tender by going half & half on the polenta and cornmeal, or try them with medium grind. Bob's also makes a stellar medium grind cornmeal.

Eating Trees

Back from my Nano hiatus, I have a couple things planned for this space: keep the Tried and Tweaked column, but lose the special day attached. This means that you get it when you see T&T in the title. There are still plenty of these wonderful recipes I haven't shared here and more coming along all the time-- I never post these unless I've made them often enough to almost forget the original recipe concept, so they are eminently usable.

Also, going through my gigundus collection of Christmas/winter holiday themed food mags for inspiration this week, I realized many of the recipes are no longer available online, they've been around so long; or else the mags may have ended, like Gourmet. So beginning now, for a new feature we'll call The Collection, I'll regularly type in with my own two hands some of the excellent recipes from bygone food eras that you probably can't get anywhere else, unless you have a similar room full of old food mags.

Today it's an appie from Food and Wine. In an article about a tree-trimming party, an occasion I've never seen the like of, I found this neat little uptake on the old standby, cheese canapes. Old school entertaining, yes, but they were good! Simple, tasty, and suitable for any holiday just by changing up the shape of the cutter used. I think they'd take nicely to other seasonings mixed into the topping, such as a sprinkle of wasabi powder or a dash of dried dill. Non-stick cookie sheets work best here.

Parmesan Trees Food and Wine magazine, December 1989

Makes 24 trees

"Use various cookie cutters to make these zesty cheese toasts, which are festive for any occasion."

3/4 C freshly grated parmesan cheese (3 oz)

1/2 C good quality mayonnaise

2 Tbsp grated onion

1/4 tsp ground white pepper

24 slices white sandwich bread (such as Monk's, or Pepperidge Farm)


1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. In a small bowl, combine the cheese, mayo, onion and pepper.

2. Lay the bread on a work surface and cut with a tree-shaped cookie cutter. Scraps can be reserved for making bread crumbs.

3. Spread about 2 tsp of the cheese mixture evenly onto each bread tree. Arrange trees on a large baking sheet and bake for 5 to 7 minutes, until golden and bubbly. Serve immediately.

Try them on your picky eaters, or with a soup dinner.

Peace, Mari

Cheesy Friday Night

You know those days when you have to run out and shop for this, that and the other thing? Then you come home loaded down with food but too tired to cook it?

That happens to me a lot, but after keeping house for over 25 years, experience has taught me to buy something frozen or easily assembled for that night's dinner, to avoid the indignity and expense of ordering take-out after all my careful grocery budgeting.

Except for last night, when I had too many things on my mind. Oh, sure, there were edible, if unappealing, leftovers in the fridge. There were rolls that needed using, there were veggie burgers... but looking around, I got a brain wave. What if we used those rolls as dippers?

I knew we had some hard cider around; and for whatever reason, we have two fondue pots, one new and unused for several years, the other a hand-me-down, an electric one. I went searching for a recipe and found the perfect one almost instantly, thanks to the Cooking Light forums.

The original recipe is from The Melting Pot, a chain of fondue restaurants, and AZJane of the CLBB nabbed it from Recipezaar. She had jigged it around some. I jigged it further to meet my needs. It came together wonderfully easy, prompting me to suddenly desire a fondue cookbook.

The only real work here is prepping the dippers. We used lightly cooked fresh broccoli, sliced Mac and Empire apples, chopped and toasted sesame rolls, and a few walnuts on the side. Chunks of cooked potato or slices of raw fennel would be lovely, too. With a glass of wine or beer, this is a cozy little meal for two or three, perfect for a cold evening.

Melting Pot Cheese Fondue, as adapted by Mari

SERVES 4 as starter, 2-3 as a light meal.

12 ounces hard cider*
8 ounces sharp cheddar cheese, shredded
4 ounces swiss cheese, shredded
1/4 cup flour
1 hefty tablespoon dijon mustard
2 garlic cloves, minced
1/4 teaspoon pepper

Mix cheeses with flour.

Heat cider in fondue pot until steaming.

Add garlic, mustard and pepper; mix well.

Add cheese and stir until melted. Keep warm on low setting, if using electric pot.

Serve with dippers such as sliced apples, toasted bread cubes or pretzels, crunchy steamed broccoli or green beans, and raw carrots or fennel.

*Angry Orchard Hard Cider is a nice regional brew-- I used the Apple Ginger.


Hope you have a hot, cheesy night, too. Peace, Mari

Turkey day? I don't think so.

I found these words today, from a writer and person I've long admired:

"The animals of the world exist for their own reasons. They were not made for humans any more than black people were made for white, or women created for men."
--Alice Walker

Turkey day? Uh-uh.

Well, there will be one at the gathering I'm going to, because the vegetarian members of my family, several of us, give our whole family the respect we want extended to us: that is, the right to eat what we will and not be ostracized for our choices.

So we ignore the bird, and I thank my mother for making her delicious stuffing with veg broth instead of chicken broth as she did for decades. It's worth some gratitude, with slowly caramelized onions and a moist texture I love; and it's a mouthful of memory.

Thanksgiving has always been about the side dishes for me. Salad, three kinds of cranberries on the table, fresh green beans, peas or broccoli, yams-- let's not forget the ten different starches that might show up, too.

I'm lucky that our traditions have always included lots of vegetables and not just potatoes. It made going veg easier, and it makes my choice of what to "bring" easier too, now that I attend a family dinner instead of hosting. We do a potluck style meal, everyone pitching in to make a true groaning board. We've never bothered with a consolation main course for us vegheads.

For those of you, my friends, that don't have vegetarian friendly families to help them along, I hope you'll treat yourself to a nice little feast of your own. Personally, I'm bringing coffee, one of the cranberries, a dessert I have to decide on TODAY, and the recipe below.

I'm looking forward to Mom's stuffing, my older sister's roasted brussels sprouts, my younger sister's pumpkin pie, whatever awesome new taste my most experimental niece brings (the women do most of the cooking with us, but the guys can cook, especially my brothers... but most of us cook because we enjoy it), and yes, the mashed potatoes. It'll be a big, warm feast just as winter is starting to close in here in Buffland.

Wishing you calm nourishment, whatever you do this week--

Peace, Mari



Cauliflower Cheddar Gratin with Horseradish Crumbs

Gourmet | November 2002 (how I miss Gourmet!)

Makes 8 servings


3 lb cauliflower (1 large head), cut into 1 1/2- to 2-inch florets
4 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 1/2 cups milk (I'll be using unsweetened soymilk)
6 oz sharp Cheddar, coarsely grated (2 cups)
1/2 cup finely chopped scallion greens
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
20 (2-inch square) saltine crackers
2 tablespoons drained bottled horseradish

Preheat oven to 450°F.

Cook cauliflower in a 5- to 6-quart pot of boiling salted water until just tender, 6 to 8 minutes. Drain cauliflower well in a colander and transfer to a buttered 2-quart baking dish.

While cauliflower is cooking, melt 2 tablespoons butter in a 3- to 4-quart heavy saucepan over moderately low heat and whisk in flour. Cook roux over low heat, whisking, 3 minutes. Add milk in a slow stream, whisking, and bring to a boil, whisking frequently. Reduce heat and simmer sauce, whisking occasionally, 8 minutes. Remove from heat and add cheese, scallion greens, salt, and pepper, whisking until cheese is melted. Pour cheese sauce over cauliflower and stir gently to combine.

Coarsely crumble crackers into a bowl. Melt remaining 2 tablespoons butter in a small saucepan, then remove from heat and stir in horseradish. Pour over crumbs and toss to coat.

Sprinkle crumb topping evenly over cauliflower.

Bake gratin in middle of oven until topping is golden brown, about 10 minutes.