Tried & Tweaked Thursday-- Icebox Truffle Pie

 When a good chocolate recipe comes along, I hold onto it forever, and usually end up adding my own touches after a few years or decades. So it is with this pie, a gloriously chocolatey concoction that gets better with every slice. This is one of those pies that takes no real cooking, not much effort, and tastes better than a mousse cake-- just as rich and creamy as you could want. You make up the filling in less than five minutes, pour into the crust, and refrigerate till firm and cool. That's it!

 And there's no eggs or butter, as in mousse. No chemical-flavored whipped topping or pudding mix, as in so many icebox pies. It's just deep deliciousness, cool and melt-in-your-mouth wonderful. I've served it to family and friends, always with a great reception.

 Yesterday, I made this on a whim, having a leftover graham crust on hand (although often I tweak this by using an Oreo crumb crust, or shortbread crust), and also having what I thought was an adequate amount of maple-flavored agave syrup from The Christmas Tree Shops, to fill the recipe requirements. That mistake led to my newest tweaks, and now there's no stopping me-- I'll be experimenting with this pie, on purpose, for ages. With the early summer temps we're seeing in WNY, it's a excellent dessert to have on hand. In fact, I ate a slice for breakfast.

Originally developed by a reader (Shannon Alison-Leszek) for the Vegetarian Times reader recipe contest, now adapted and renamed by Mari.

Icebox Truffle Pie

1 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
generous 1/4 cup cinnamon flavored chips
12-oz. container firm silken tofu
1/4 cup maple-flavored agave syrup, or use half agave, half maple syrup
1 cup creamy peanut butter
1/4 cup broken walnuts
1 9-inch premade graham cracker crust, or chocolate crumb crust
fresh fruit, or other garnishes, optional

1. Place chocolate chips in microwave-safe bowl, and microwave on high for 30 seconds. Stir chocolate, and heat 30 seconds more. Repeat heating and stirring until chocolate is just melted. Add cinnamon chips, a little at a time, to melted chocolate, stirring to dissolve. Taste as you go-- you may want to add a few more. Set aside.

2. Combine tofu and agave/maple syrup in food processor, and blend till smooth. Add peanut butter, and process until smooth. Add chocolate mixture, and process once more until smooth. Add walnuts and pulse briefly, just to distribute nuts throughout the mixture.

3. Pour peanut butter-chocolate mixture into pie crust, smoothing the top; refrigerate at least 20 minutes-- I prefer two hours, minimum. Makes 1 9-inch pie, should serve 6 or more easily.

 Before serving, I like to garnish this one of several ways-- with a light dusting of unsweetened cocoa powder and/or a raspberry puree, or fresh raspberries, or the way we had it for breakfast-- with sliced bananas and whipped cream. You can, of course, make this in it's purest vegan form* and add fruit alone or vegan cream. You can even top it as Shannon did for the contest, with pretzels, chocolate-dipped or not-- the salt against all that chocolatey richness is wonderful, but we enjoy the way fruit flavors enhance and bring out the fruitiness of the chocolate. My other additions of cinnamon chips and walnuts give a candied quality to the filling, that is, I admit, an improvement on an already great idea. Thank you again, Shannon, wherever you are!


In the fridge, before the garnish.

 *Mari's Notes--

 If you use the right kind of crust and chocolate, this is a vegan delight, but cinnamon chips generally contain nonfat milks solids, so you'd have to use more syrup-- 1/2 C, and a dash of ground cinnamon instead, if you'd like to keep the flavors as they are here.
 The original topping of broken chocolate-covered pretzels, if used, are best added just before serving, instead of before chilling as had been called for, unless you like soggy pretzels.
 Finally, if you want to go for the total sexy dark truffle experience here, use bittersweet chips, ditch the cinnamon, add a tsp of instant espresso or Starbucks Via to the filling, and serve each slice sprinkled with dark unsweetened cocoa powder and a fluff of whipped cream, topped with a chocolate covered espresso bean for maximum chic.

 PS-- Nobody will know this has tofu in it, unless you tell them so after they have eaten it. And then, they won't believe you.

 Peace, Mari

Tried and Tweaked Thursday: Cabbage Rolls with Nuts and Bulgur

 St. Pat's day is a huge holiday in Buffland, even for those of us that are not Irish in any way, or Catholic. With shamrocks and green beer flowing over the city like a keg of liquid grass, a parade that is never too hampered by March rains, and nearly every bar and restaurant in town serving some specialty for the day, it's a wonder that we ever make it past March at all.

 But we do, and there is rarely a shortage of cabbage afterwards, either. I'd like to recommend a dish for using that head of ruffled green you may have lurking in the crisper-- something non-Irish and utterly non-traditional for this holiday weekend, but good to eat anytime: cabbage rolls. Besides, for anyone named Kozlowski, like myself, a good cabbage roll recipe is a must.

 Unlike most cabbage roll recipes, these do not feature rice, and are filling without being heavy. I first came across them in a lovely book I ordered from a cookbook club, back before I knew what I was doing in the kitchen: it was Susan Costner's Good Friends, Great Dinners. The pictures are marvelous, the menus seasonal and not too fussy, the recipes well written and the food-- perfect. It was a bit of a steep learning curve for me, then, if only because I had so little training, but this magnificently sensual and evocative book gave me some real training as I cooked my way through it. I've seen other grain-filled rolls since, but none as good, and simply springlike, as these.

 Good Friends is by no means a vegetarian volume, but it features many recipes that are veg-based and suitable, and an entire menu for each season that is deliberately vegetarian, as well. From one of those menus came this recipe, which naturally I haven't left as is, due to the fact that I couldn't make the called-for tomato coulis the first time out. I've shared it in slightly different form before, but here's how I make it nowadays:

CABBAGE STUFFED WITH MUSHROOMS, WALNUTS AND BULGUR
 By Susan Costner, adapted by Mari
(12 rolls)

1 Lrg head cabbage, regular or Savoy, (about 3 lbs.) tough outer leaves removed
3 Tbsp unsalted butter
1 garlic clove, peeled and minced
1 bunch scallions, finely chopped
2 celery stalks (with leaves if they're nice), finely chopped
1 lb fresh mushrooms, coarsely chopped
2 C bulgur, cooked according to package directions
1/4 C finely chopped fresh parsley
2 Tbsp chopped fresh dill
salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
1/3 C walnuts, toasted for 10 minutes at 350 F, then coarsely chopped
Tomato-Caraway Sauce (recipe follows)
garnish: dill or fennel sprigs

Cut out the deep core of the cabbage and discard. Bring a large pot of salted water to a simmer. Add the cabbage and cook until you can easily remove the largest leaves, about 5 minutes.

Remove from the water and drain well. Carefully separate 12 of the largest leaves-- if not soft enough to roll easily, return them to the pot and cook until just tender. Cut the tough central rib of each leaf. Pat dry and set aside.

Melt the butter in a large skillet, add the garlic, scallions and celery and saute just until tender. Add the mushrooms and saute over medium heat, stirring frequently, until all the liquid has evaporated from the mushrooms. Add the cooked bulgur, parsley, dill, and salt and pepper. Stir in the walnuts and heat thoroughly.

Place the cabbage leaves, curly side up, on a clean flat surface. Fill each with 3-4 Tbsp of the stuffing. Fold up the bottom edge, fold in both sides, and roll up towards the top edge. Place seam-side down in one layer in a large casserole.

Add the sauce and simmer gently for 30 minutes, or cover and heat in a medium oven, about 350 degrees F. Heat just until warmed through and a little bubbly. Serve the stuffed cabbage, whole or sliced, with some of the sauce, and garnished with dill sprigs.

TOMATO-CARAWAY SAUCE

1/2 small onion, finely chopped
2 garlic cloves, peeled and minced
2 Tbsp unsalted butter
1 Tbsp olive oil
4 C coarsely chopped, canned drained plum tomatoes
1/4 tsp sugar
1 bay leaf
1 tsp caraway seeds
dash of dried dill, rubbed between fingers
1 1-inch piece fresh or dried orange peel
1 Tbsp tomato paste
salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

In a saucepan, saute the garlic and onion in the butter and oil until tender but not brown. Stir in the tomatoes, sugar, bay leaf, caraway and orange peel. Cook, covered, over low heat for 10 minutes; then uncover, add tomato paste, and cook for 15-20 minutes more, till sauce is slightly thickened. Discard bay leaf and peel. (For coulis, force through a food mill.) Correct seasoning with salt and pepper.

***Mari's notes-- You can, of course, use your own light tomato sauce. These could easily go vegan using EVOO instead of butter, and a vegan sweetener. Or you can cheese them up with a parmesan topping. Serving size is two, but one is usually enough for us, with rolls* or a side veg, or both.


 *I like to serve Irish Soda Bread Muffins, from Recipegirl, using a half cup of whole wheat flour subbing for an equal amount of regular. I've also made them subbing a half cup of oatmeal, and I often use dried cranberries for the fruit.

 Here's to cabbage, and good beer, and a happy St. Pat's day!

 Peace, Mari

Turning Over New Leaves

 One thing everyone knows, nowadays, is that we can all benefit, both health-wise and taste-wise, from eating more veg. But knowing that isn't the same as knowing how; recipes that are seriously fortified with veg can be expensive, or unseasonal, or just too damn much work for some of us. I say this after 18+ years as a vegetarian cook, and one who passionately loved vegetables before that change occurred. I'm also a person on a budget, and a person that doesn't have four hours to prepare a daily six course meal just because I don't consume animals.

 The key, for me, has not been in finding the right recipes, but in learning how to add more vegetables to any, and every, recipe I can. I started doing this as I soon as I left my mother's home and kitchen, and I've never stopped. Here are my basic, everyday ways:

 Add an extra veg at the beginning of preparation:

 Making a green salad? Against the background of mixed lettuces and whatever else, try a few handfuls of raw zucchini or crookneck squash, finely diced, and a handful of chopped dried fruit as well, such as apricots, craisins, or apples, dried or fresh. These two additions go well with most dressings and a wide spectrum of standard salad toppings. When you're done, throw in a handful of chopped nuts, to boot. Or cook some pepper strips, carrot strips or zuke on a hot, dry griddle till the vegetables brown and soften a little. The combo of crisp greens and slightly wilted veg is always a winner.

 If you're sauteeing or sweating aromatics such as onion and garlic to begin a soup, stew or skillet dish, add in some thinly sliced carrots or peppers there, too. If you've already got 'em, add in tomato or mushroom, or slivered green beans. If the recipe doesn't call for garlic, or onion, add some anyway.

Add an extra veg in the middle stages of prep:

 Say you're making a batch of soup or a casserole-- go beyond what's called for, and throw in one extra thing, be it a couple handfuls of frozen edamame in the stew or a layer of sauteed peppers, greens or okra mixed into your mac-n-cheese. Substitute two lightly cooked vegetables any place you'd normally use just one to stand in for an animal product: when I make Giada D.'s stellar manicotti, I use sauteed mushrooms and red pepper instead of beef, and it's divine.

(above, a bubbling veg stew I just keep adding more vegetables to-- the zuke chunks were last)

Never let a grain or side go unadorned:

Making a batch of corn muffins? Add 1/2 C thawed frozen corn, along with some fresh dill or cilantro if you have it, to the batter. It adds moisture, sweet flavor, and welcome texture. Add a little grated sweet potato or parnsip to that zucchini cake, for that matter.

 Throw diced tomatoes, thawed peas, a cup of cooked pinto beans, or chunks of bell pepper into rice, barley, quinoa or wheat berries while they cook. They bring their own moisture to the process, so generally, no adjustment is needed to the water ratio.

 Even if you're eating the side with a veggie-filled stew, another veg will make it more interesting. I do this with potatoes as well, and if you think plain potatoes in cream and a dab of butter is good, you should try it with peas and spinach added, or with chunks of zuke thrown into the boiling water a moment before you drain the potatoes. In this case, I add some mint and dill as well, or oregano.  Put zucchini strips into the water of the pasta just before you drain that-- it's enough to cook it perfectly, and the sauce doesn't get watery.

Add an extra veg at the end of cooking:

 Last minute additions make for inspired eating, whether it's a slice of raw onion popped into a salad, or adding interest to a cooked soup or stew, a handful of sliced kale stirred into a taco topping just before serving, or a salsa of fresh peppers and fruit to eat with those muffins.

 Put a layer of chopped tomatoes under the crumb crust of that veg-filled mac-n-cheese, or that layered eggplant casserole; marinate some frozen corn and use it to top your sandwich filling; grate raw carrot or beet onto a portobello steak or a tofu stir-fry. Toss olives or raw tomatoes into red sauce at the last minute. Throw ripped fresh spinach into everything, including the greased pan you're about to fry that cage-free egg in. It's better that way.

 It gets to be a habit, after a short while. And it frees up your ideas of what stew, tacos, pizza, sauce, mashes, and classic soups should include... which means you'll be less bound by old ways of cooking, in the future.  

 Now you know my ways-- what are yours? Are you trying to eat more vegetables, too, and if so-- what vegetables are you using? I've mentioned the same five or six here; maybe you have a different set of go-tos, and I'd love to hear about them.

 Peace, Mari

Discovering the Everyday

 Got the March Food and Wine Magazine last week. I often have to laugh, when reading my gourmet mags, as they are continually discovering or rediscovering nutritious edibles vegheads have long cherished, like chia seeds, yogurt, or kale.

 There's a smart group of food-savvy people that have always known about kale-- around these parts, we call them Southerners, and when we're not busy wishing we had the 'nads to use as much butter and sour cream in our pound cakes as they do, we sometimes notice how very veg-focused their cuisine can be. This is true of Southern food from the most down-home dishes to the hoity-toitiest. Southerners  ''know from" beans, potatoes, greens, tomatoes, squash-- you name it, Southern Living has recipes for it: mashed, creamed, baked with other veggies under a crumbly topping, or cooked on the stove with seasonings till there's pot liquor to die for. Or shredded raw and served in a slaw.

 That's why, a few years back, I jumped at the chance to own Frank Stitt's Southern Table, a hardcover cookbook heavy with the weight of all the good vegetable recipes it contains. Still wrapped in plastic, it was priced at a mere $2 at a thrift store where the staff clearly had no idea of real value. It was a find, but after opening it, and reading Stitt's heartfelt and well written homages to his local ingredients and their purveyors, I'd have considered it a bargain even at $30. At Stitt's Alabama restaurant, the Highlands Bar & Grill, he takes familiar dishes and serves them up with a refreshing twist. From the Watermelon Margarita  to Pea Cakes with Tomato Salsa, the menu makes for a tantalizing read.

 One of my first favorite recipes from Southern Table was Miss Verba's Pimiento Cheese. I had only vague childhood memories of some bright orange jarred horror version of this delicacy, but the loving way Stitt described it, I knew I had to try making it fresh for myself.

 Love at first bite. Then, I skewed the recipe for my own palate, making it tangier and maybe less creamy by adding dijon mustard, garlic, and more hot sauce. Here it is, for you to try, if you haven't already. A cheese dip with veggies, that kids might actually eat!



Miss Verba's Pimiento Cheese,  from Frank Stitt's Southern Table
(slightly adapted by Mari)


1 lb. sharp yellow cheddar

1/4 lb cream cheese, softened

3 large red bell peppers, roasted, peeled, seeded & chopped

1/2 C homemade mayo, or best quality commercial mayo

1 tsp sugar

1 clove garlic, minced fine (optional)

1 heaping Tbsp dijon mustard, or more to taste
Splash of hot sauce, such as tabasco or cholula ( I used Frank's)

1/8 tsp cayenne, optional


 Grind the cheddar in food processor fitted with grating disk, or grate on the small-holed side of a handheld grater*. Put grated cheese into a large bowl, and add all other ingredients. Blend together thoroughly. Refrigerate and serve chilled. Keeps several days in fridge, covered.
Best with crackers like saltines, or crisp vegetable strips-- carrots, celery, peppers, cukes.  Also makes a mean grilled cheese, and is delicious on any burger or sloppy joe type of filling. Or just spread it on a thin slice of baguette and munch.

*Note-- it really has to be hand-grated cheese to taste right. The FP makes it too creamy, and pre-grated cheese in a bag doesn't have the flavor-- I know, I tried it once.

 Now that we're being fooled into thinking Spring is here, why not have some Pimiento Cheese with crackers and a glass of cool white wine? Maybe we can't sit outside with it, yet, but we can think about a garden dinner. And planting an herb patch, soon.

 Peace, Mari

Our New Address!

Finally, the simplified address I wanted for this blog all along has become available. Find us at:

http://www.vegetarianatlarge.blogspot.com/.

 See you later! Peace, Mari

Sherry Baby; or, When You Want That Taste of Honey...

Special weekend update-- get thee to Premier wines on Delaware, snap up a few bottles of the huge inventory of perfectly good wines they are selling for a pittance to thin out their stock.

You may know already, and if not, I'm sorry to shock you with it: Premier is moving in May, further in to Tonawanda. They've been my main wine store since I moved into the neighborhood, and it's sad to watch them go.

 But before that, they're almost giving away the store. And that is an opportunity!

 Yours truly just got home from a standout event there, a sherry tasting class featuring pours of nine different styles of sherry, from Pedro Romero Bodegas. It was too good to keep to myself, so I raced home to tell you about it.

 Our presenter was Tom George, the enthusiastic voice of Frontier Wine Imports, a well regarded importer of Spanish and other European wines. He was generous with the details of how and why sherries are made the way they are, sold the way they are, taste as they do, and also touched on why America still has an imperfect picture of sherry's flavor profile and uses. Premier was generous in giving us 9 different tastes of this excellent fortified wine.

 I kept notes about the various flavors and aromas, and I want to tell you, you should be hauling ass to Premier right now to get some of these wonderful bottles at their outrageously reduced prices.

We tasted all the way from ultra perfumed dry to liquid raisin sweet. My favorite, I confess, remains the dry Fino. Refreshing, with unexpected crispness, it's perfect for sipping with a pre-dinner nosh of cheese, dried fruit, nuts and olives, or maybe alongside a grilled pizza with goat cheese and red pepper. And honestly, any of these would be good that way, though some of the sweeter sherries beg for pairing with a rich, dried fruit tart or chocolate cake. More on that later.

The Fino was bone dry, with a full fragrance of crisp fruit and light caramel; at first taste it showed more brightness than expected, but after I moved to the brighter acidity of the Manzanilla and then back, the edge of the Fino seemed softer, with hints of fig, maple and fresh dates.

The Manzanilla, just as dry or drier, but thinner and more delicate, is considered the better choice of the two; but to my palate, needed food to show its stuff clearly. Either of these would be good with a pan of roasted veg, I believe; they have enough acid to cut through the oil and carbs, and I have a suspicion that the lighter and more floral Manzanilla would indeed shine alongside the smokiness of soybacon. The nose on this Sherry was a wash of citrus, moss, and light prune. I could see drinking it with a smoked eggplant soup, and hope to try that sometime in future.

From there we drank two Amontillados, a medium dry, and a dry rich. Again, I preferred the first, but wouldn't kick the rich dry out of my glass, either. The medium dry came on with a lush nose of leathery dried pear and light brown sugar, and tasted most of browned caramel, with nutty hints of buttered popcorn. There was long, slightly raisiny finish. This is a big food wine, and could stand up to both acidic and rich foods-- I had to wonder what it would taste like alongside a curried carrot soup. Alone or with food, it would be a delicious reward for struggling through our modern lives.

 The dry rich Amontillado showed heavier caramel yet, brightened with strong citrus notes and, I thought, a ghost of dried apricot along with its primary toasted hazelnut or almond flavors.

 Then things started to get serious. Back-to-back Olorosos, dry and full rich, showed themselves as deep dinner wines, not to be taken for a mere aperitif. It's a shame more people here don't serve sherries with meals. We're missing so much: a wide spectrum of food wines pared down to the dessert genre, or slubbed off as an esoteric salon refreshment of priests, B-movie villians, and great-grandmothers.

 Our 'teacher' told us an anecdote about trying to sell an Oloroso, and how the would-be buyers brushed him off until they tasted it with a steak. For us, I'd have to say, I can perfectly picture myself happy slurping the full rich with a meal of portobello steaks or duxelles over mashed potatoes and green beans. Sweet potato hash, with or without soybacon, would be luscious too, and this sherry could take the spice of some hot red pepper thrown in, easily. When you sample a bevy of sherries, you begin to understand the genius of paprika as a seasoning. The flavors here were a meld of prune plum, toasted almond and syrupy lime coming off a heady perfumed bouquet of rich brown sugar and green moss with a whiff of citrusy cilantro.

 We'd been tasting in pairs, and this was the first time that I, and my tasting partner and bandmate J., preferred the second choice of a pairing. It was a knockout, although the dry Oloroso had beautiful acidity, and filled our mouths and noses with big, bright, crisp sour apple, cut grape, and minor blonde roast coffee notes. I'd try it with a mixed veg stew, or even a red sauce dish-- it has enough acid to match, and meld its fruitier quality into the mix for a neat complement.


 You might be thinking at this point, when did she go all wine critic on us? Truth is, I've always loved wine. It was my cocktail of choice even as a teen, (Sangria!) and as school age kids, my sister and I were given a singular holiday treat in the form of a tiny pink cordial Depression glassful of whatever red was being served with the feast. 


 As for sherry, I had an after work ritual for maybe a year and a half, two years, while living in Indianapolis. Take off shoes. Wash hands. Chop and start cooking for dinner, then sit with my feet up and read, drinking a small glass of Fino or Amontillado, nibbling on a tiny wedge of parmesan or romano cheese, some nuts or olives, raisins or dried apricots, and maybe a cracker. A good way to reclaim my adult brain at the end of a day spent with energetic young children. So I've been into sherry for over a decade now.

 Of course, in Spain, they serve sherry with food all the time, but here, unless it's a self-conscious tapas party raining down manchego and sardines, it doesn't happen. Part of this can be blamed directly on Harvey's Bristol Cream. Luckily, the cream sherry we tried next was not in the same class as good ol' Harvey's. Nor was it as complex and layered an experience as the wines that had gone before; but it was a sherry I could see myself enjoying in small amounts. With aromas of candied peach and peach pit, it was sweet but not cloying, showing plenty of sugary berry and fatty nut flavors.

 The last two sherries were the high sweet end of sherry-- a dark rich Moscatel that came on with a deep, deep hit of prune and light brown sugar, and the syrupy Ximenez extra rich. The last is definitely a treaty dessert wine, standardly recommended to be chilled and dripped over vanilla ice cream or paired with a dark mousse cake. I'd amend that to a pistachio or maple walnut ice cream (or burnt almond if you can find it anywhere anymore) alongside a thin slice of pear or apple tart, or for more contrast, a not-too-tart cranberry dessert.

 This was purely luscious. A sweet plummy bouquet gave way to concentrated honeyed fig. As I swirled it over my tongue, a so-light note of buttered wheat toast led to layer upon layer of deep, dark caramel, dried prune and date, toffee-washed tobacco and back to fresh fig. Honestly, more than the taste poured for us at Premier would be too much for me without an accompanying dessert, but it was ambrosial while it lasted. I can't recommend this brand of sherry highly enough, for its complexity and smoothness, and rich flavors, not to mention it's reasonable everyday cost.

If reading this hasn't moved you, maybe the fact that many of these finely crafted sherries are waiting to come home with you for a mere $11.99/bottle can. I know I'm excited to try sherry as a wine to be drunk with meals again, and not just my pre-dinner snack. It has been way too long.


 Drink something good tonight! Peace,

                                                           Mari

Announcements: Things to Eat, Places to Go, Evil to Stop!

Happy Imbolc!

 Usually this blog keeps a purer food focus, me being a foodie and not an evangelist-- but recent efforts by our fearless friends at PETA to pressure McDonald's into a cleaner ethical space have called to me. Check out their McCruelty ads, (nasty to see) and get the info there. Spread it around, if you can. What has Mickey D's ever done for vegetarians? Not much, besides the inner and outer pollution they create and promote. They are not alone in that, but there's no denying they have alot to answer for.

 On a pleasanter note, the Buffalo Live Food Meetup is having a number of events this month, notably a potluck at the Snyder Holistic Health Center. The Buffalo Vegan Meetup Group at Merge is having a meet & greet dinner next week, too.  I like these groups, and the only reason I haven't joined them both is financial inability to contribute my fair share of the goodies at meetings. It won't stop me forever!

 Also happening this week: the PeopleArt Coffeehouse Open Stage, where you can donate (or not), have a cup of joe or some herb tea for a pittance, watch local musicians perform original music, and even get up on stage yourself if you choose. It's this Friday the 3rd, at 9pm; show up a bit earlier for the sign-up sheet.Yours truly will be hanging out drinking tea, and I'd love to see you there.

 I've been crockpotting as usual for this time of year, even without the usual constant snowfall to encourage me. I have FAWM to spur me instead, and making songs is hungry work. Last night, we feasted on black bean and spinach tacos from the slowcooker, with rice. Nice to have the food safely cooking itself while I'm diddling around with words.

 I'd found some organic cilantro at the market and used it both in the taco mixture, and in a simple topping of equal parts chopped cuke and red pepper flecked with the lemony herbal greenery. Better than shredded lettuce! For more flavor, throw the unused long stems of cilantro on top of the bean mixture while it cooks, then discard them before stirring. This recipe serves 2, with maybe some leftovers. To make sure there's leftovers, add an extra cup of cooked beans.

Black Bean and Spinach Taco/Burrito Filling

Throw into a small (1 1/2 to 2 qt.) crockpot:

2 Tbsp. olive oil
2 tsp ground cumin
1 bay leaf
1/2 tsp dried oregano
dash celery seed (optional)
1 jalapeno, seeded & chopped, or one canned chili, or crushed red pepper to taste
1 small onion, peeled & chopped
2-3 cloves garlic, peeled & chopped fine
1/2 bell pepper, any color, chopped
2 cups cooked black beans or 1 15/16 oz can black beans, rinsed & drained*
1/3 cup wine, leftover coffee or beer
fresh chopped cilantro, to taste (optional)

 Add a bit of salt to taste, cover & cook on high for 1 1/2 to 2 hours, or on low for several hours.

Stir, season to taste with more salt & cumin, and more fresh chopped cilantro if desired.

Add one or two of the following: several handfuls of fresh spinach leaves (it can take half a 10-oz. bag easily), ripped; half a cup of frozen corn kernels, thawed and drained, half a small zucchini, diced small; a cup of chopped tomato; half a cup of fennel bulb, diced small.

Stir in raw veg, cover & cook on high for about 15 minutes, to warm through. Serve on mixed lettuce as a salad, or in tortillas, or pitas, with toppings like guacamole, shredded cheeses, salsa, or shreded raw veg.

*You can, of course, use pintos, kidney beans, navy beans, or a mix of beans-- in which case, add in some chickpeas.  If using a larger slowcooker for a larger amount, double the aromatic seasonings, spices and liquid. Triple the beans, and add as much fresh veg as you like.  


 Eat something good tonight! Peace,

                                                         Mari