With My Hopes Held High As A Kite

Things my New Year's celebration have included thus far:

• Dinner & drinks from Sutter's in Newbury, O.
• Getting a hamburger for Christmas.
• Sleeping three-in-a-bed.
• Learning from my cousin, The Demon Baby, that the best way to eat a waffle is uncut; with both hands; covered in syrup.
• Playing in 6 inches of snow with Jessie the Dog.
• Watching "The Thin Man" marathon on TCM.
• Pairing popcorn & champagne

So, I don't really have anything to report on the culinary front, but I did want to wish all my loyal friends and enemies the very best in the upcoming 2010.

Should you continue to follow me and my kitchen-ventures, here's what you have to look forward to:

• Anti-werewolf spearpoint cookies (and a run-down on the progress of my werewolf novel).
• My entry for the PAMA cooking contest.
• Attempting to veganize at least one non-vegan recipe from each months Food+Wine and Martha Stewart's Living.
• My adventures living at home full-time.
• and much, much, more!!

So, stay tuned, kids.

And have a happy, have a happy, have a hap- hap- happy new year.

Comfort & Joy

It's been a long time coming, friends and enemies, but I finally have the swine flu.

"Oh no! I have the swine flu!" I said, throwing the back of my hand against my forehead.

"No, you dont," said Roomie, "You just weakened your immune system with a few too many days straight of drinking, dessert-ing, and cigars. Now you have a bad cold."


Finding no sympathy there, I turned to The Doc.


"Oh no! I have the swine flu!" I said, throwing the back of my hand against my forehead, this time adding a swoon to help make my case.

"No, you don't," replied The Doc, feeling my glands. "Too much smoke, and dancing in the garage has given you some post-nasal drip. Take some Advil Cold&Sinus. You'll be fine."

Hmph.


Well, whatever I have (I still say say it's H1N1), it put me in the mood for comfort foods.


My food of choice this time around was those little pillows of feel-better-ness: meatballs. However, I didn't want the acidity of tomato sauce and my throat was too sore to eat them plain and dry. In what would I couch my meatballs?


The answer was a Swedish-type cream sauce that I completely made up (using several non-vegan recipes as my template). Even when I'm sick, I'm inventing stuff in the kitchen.

Note that if you sneeze into the pot, you won't have to share your deliciousness with your non-commiserating famliy.


Contagiously Tasty Swedish Meatballs


2 cups vegetable broth
1 teaspoon sea salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
2 heaping tablespoons chopped fresh basil
2-ish tablespoons chopped fresh marjoram
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
2-ish tablespoons chopped chives
6 tablespoons cornstarch, dissolved in 1 cup warm water
1 1/2 cup vegan sour cream (a little more or less won't really matter)
2 - 10 oz. packages frozen veggie meatballs


Bring the vegetable broth, salt, and pepper to a boil in a medium-sized pot.
Turn the heat down to a simmer and add the fresh herbs and chives.
Cook stirring often until the greens are wilty.
Add the sour cream and stir well until it's completely incorporated.
Turn the heat back up to medium-high and slowly add the cornstarch/water mix while stirring the pot.
Add the frozen meatballs and stir to coat. The mix should be nice and thick and slightly bubbly.
Cook uncovered until the meatballs are defrosted and cooked, about ten or so minutes. Stir often to keep the bottom from burning. Add the optional sneeze right before serving for maximum revenge.


I ate this over some "egg-free" egg noodles with sides of cooked asparagus, cauliflower, and corn. Roomie said they were also delicious served cold the next day on pumpernickel bread.


***


Delicious or not, the meatballs didn't completely cure me of the fevers, so I figured I'd put the un-eaten eggless noodles to use in a pot of soup. It's a pretty basic recipe, but here it is. I like to think that frying up the leeks a bit with the herbs gives the soup a more faceted flavor, but that may be the chest-congestion talking.


Dr. M's Patent-Pending Cure-All Vegetable Elixer
(All amounts given are approximate. I never measure anything too carefully since I'm usually half-delirious with fever)


3-4 tablespoons olive oil
2 leeks, white, light green, and dark green parts chopped
2 tablespoons each fresh thyme, fresh sage, fresh marjoram, and fresh parsley, chopped
1/2 teaspoon sea salt
4-6 cups vegetable broth
2-3 large carrots, mandolined or sliced thin into disks
4-5 celery ribs, chopped
1 bag of frozen peas


Heat the oil over medium heat in a large pot.
Add the leeks and cook until the white parts are starting to brown and the dark green parks are bright and glossy.
Add the herbs and stir to coat with oil and leeks. Cook a few minutes, until the parsley is bright and whole thing is fragrant. Add the salt.
Add the broth, carrots, celery, and peas. Bring the mix to a boil, stirring often.
Reduce heat to low, cover, and let simmer for up to an hour, stirring often.


When you're ready to eat the soup, you can add the pre-cooked noodles (I don't like to cook mine with the soup because they absorb so much liquid) to the whole pot, but I like to add them to individual bowls, that way I can do more with the leftover soup (blend it for gravy, strain it for stock, add rice or croutons or potatoes, etc.).

"Great soup!" Roomie (who crumbled leftover "ChiliFest 2009" cornbread into his) and The Doc agreed, "But you still don't have the swine flu."

Hmph.


I may not have my health (or a particularly compasionate family), but at least I'm well-fed.

'Twas the Night Before Christmas...

...and all through the kitchen, a vegan was cooking some dishes most bitchin'.


Actually, most of Christmas Eve was spent making vegetable trays & dip, running to the grocery store for last-minute ingredients (in shorts & a Santa hat), and almost being late for church because my hair takes almost 2 hours to curl. Next time I'm just going in my Santa hat & shorts. I'm sure Jesus will understand.


It wasn't until well into Christmas Day (after a mid-morning run in shorts and a Santa dress) that the kitchen escapades really began. My family does the big holiday meal and present-giving hoopla on Christmas Night, rather than the Eve or Morning of. It makes it easier for my sister and I to do things with our significant others' (if we have one that year) families, or to make the trek up to Cleveland.

The menu changes from year to year (this year found the omnivores eating chateaubriand, cheesypotatoes, and a puff-pastry covered creamy mushroom soup (from a Michael Anthony cooking class my mom took in HHI), but there are a few things that do not change, that have been a part of Christmas for as long as I can remember Christmas. Things like giant trays of a dozen different kinds of cookies, a two-tiered dish of homemade chocolates, drinking wine or sparkling juice from holly-decorated wine glasses, and Sausage Crackers.

When I was little, these little holiday delicacies were called "Cheesy Meat Breads." My mom made them up as an easy-to-eat, quick-to-prepare Christmas and New Year's Eve meal for my sister and I and they soon became a party staple. They were re-christened "Sausage Crackers" a few years ago after an unexpected snowstorm marooned a half-dozen of our friends at my parents' house the night before Christmas Eve and my mom needed something fast to feed us all.

Despite how easy they are to make, and how delicious everyone finds them, we only ever eat them during the holidays and only ever at my parents'. The HB, munching on some this past week, mentioned that he had had a taste for them over the summer but resisted the desire to make Sausage Crackers in August. "These things are sancrosanct," he said. And he was right. Somethings just taste better when eaten in the shadow of a 12-foot pine tree.

Sacrosanct Sausage Crackers
The first year of being a vegan is full of little moments of dawning realization, moments that usually go something like, "Shit! What am I going to eat on *insert holiday or family function here*?!" or "It's just not *holiday* without *certain type of food*!!" The thought of a Christmas/NYE without Sausage Crackers led me to one of my first successful veganizations. Below is the vegan recipe but feel free to make "Vintage Sausage Crackers" using ground beef, a tube of Bob Evans ground sausage, and a box of Velveeta.

Ingredients:
1 package (1 lb.) frozen "ground beef" style veggie crumbles
1 roll "sausage-style" veggie crumbles (in the refrigerator case of the health-food section of the grocery store usually)
1 package cheddar-flavor veggie cheese (soy-based cheeses melt better than rice ones)
1 loaf cocktail-sized rye or pumpernickel bread

To make:
Pre-heat the oven to "broil."
Place the cocktail breads in a single layer on baking pan. Set aside.
Thaw the frozen crumbles in a large frying pan or skillet, adding water if necessary and stirring often to keep the meat from sticking.
Add the sausage roll and mash up into the thawed crumbles.
(**Note: If you are using real meat, cook all of the above until it isn't raw. I have no idea how to cook meat, and as a vegan, take no responsibility for death or illness due to the consumption of under-cooked meat. End note**)
Add the cheese in small hunks, stirring often to distribute evenly. Turn the heat down to low and cover the pan, letting it sit for about 5-8 minutes until the cheese is fully melted.
Spoon the cheesy-meat mixture onto the cocktail breads. Place the tray under the broiler for about 5-10 minutes. You're not really trying to cook anything, just toast the breads up a little and brown the tops of the cheesy-meat.
Let cool and serve with the sense of solemnity due to such revered appetizer.

...and to all a good night.

GOFTTP

Get out the tinsel and the mistletoe. String the popcorn and cranberries. Put on your Santa hats and get liquored up.


That's right kids. It's time once again for a "Good Ol'-Fashioned Tree Trimming Party." Though we don't usually wait until December 22 to hang a shining star upon the highest bough, that was the soonest everyone could be home.


We look very festive, no?

To provide much needed sustenance, my mom made Sacrosanct Sausage Crackers (recipe for the veganized version coming soon), Velveeta Nacho Dip, sweet&sour meatballs, mini-meatloaf sliders, and spicy boneless wings; I made party mix and a vegetable tray; the boys were in charge of providing an inappropriate amount of alcohol.

GOFTTP Mix

2 heaping cups popped popcorn
2 cups mini spelt pretzals
1 1/2 cups rice or wheat Chex cereal
1 cup puffed Kamut cereal (I used Kashi)
1/2 cup slivered or sliced almonds
1/4 cup maple syrup
2 teaspoons sesame oil
1 1/2 teaspoons chili powder (you could use 1/2 chipotle powder for some more heat)
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/4 teaspoon coarse sea salt
2 tablespoons sesame seeds (using black ones gives the mix a nice color contrast)
1/4 cup dried goji berries (use golden raisens if you don't have/can't find gojis)
1/4 -1/2 cup dried cranberries

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Coat a large baking sheet with cooking spray. In a large bowl, toss together the popcorn, pretzals, almonds, and cereals. Drizzle with the maple syrup and oil. Toss to coat. Sprinkle with the chili powder, garlic, and salt. Toss to coat. Add the cranberries and toss again. Spread the mixture in a single layer on the baking sheet and sprinkle with the sesame seeds. Bake for about 20 minutes, or until toasted, stirring often. Let cool on the tray and then transfer to a serving bowl and stir in the goji berries.

~~~

While munching on the mix, Roomie and the HB (who works as a bartender at a schwank restaruant in Anchorage) began conconting weird and wonderful things at the bar.

Grown-Ass Man Raspberry Lemonade
"I'm an adult & I deserve an adult-sized glass"
Combine 8-12 oz. Lindeman's Framboise Lambic and 1 1/2 shots citrus vodka (Belvi is the house vodka here at the 1-4-4-8) in a tulip-style beer glass. Rim the glass with a lemon wedge and serve.

'Pass The Courvoisier' Sparklers
"because we leave them girls rollin'"
Pour 1/2 shot of Courvoisier into a champagne flute. Top with sparkling apple cider and 5-6 dashes of bitters.

The Partridge
"drunk is the only way I'd consider poultry in a bush an acceptable gift"
In a shaker full of ice, mix 2 shots pear-flavored vodka (on Willowood we use La Poire), 1 shot Stone's Ginger Wine, 1 shot simple syrup (microwave 1 cup of water til it's boiling, add 2 cups demarara sugar, and enjoy), and 1/2 shot of lemon juice. Strain into chilled martini glasses. If you want to put on your fancy pants, mandolin a slightly under-ripe pear and freeze the very-thin slices. Add to the glass as garnish.

The Jack (Frost) Poinsettia
"something to nip and warm your nose"
In a shaker filled with ice, mix up 2 parts Laird's Applejack, 1 part lime juice, and 1/2 part grenadine. Strain into highball glasses full of ice. Note: do NOT use apple brandy. It's Laird's or drink something else.

The Longest Nightini
"Are you blind in your little froggy eyes?! It's the Solstice! The darker side of Christ-mas!"
In a cocktail shaker, muddle together 1/2 pint of blackberries, 1 tablespoon fresh thyme leaves, 1/2 ounce or so each simple sugar and lemon juice. Add 1-2 ounces citron vodka and a handfull of ice. Shake with vigor then strain into a chilled martini glass. Garnish with a curl of lemon zest and a blackberry on a cocktail skewer.

Beer-Berry Brulee
"spoon-free dessert"
In a pilsner glass mix equal parts Lindeman's Framboise Lambic and Southern Tier's Creme Brulee Stout.

~~~

Despite the libations, we were somehow able to use a 10-foot ladder to decorate a twelve-foot tree without any major injuries.

It must be the magic of a Christmas and a GOFTTP.

It's Chili Outside...

...it's chili inside...

...it's a regular f**king chili-fest!

And so it was this past Sunday, friends and enemies. My mom whipped up her White Chicken Crockpot Chili (a recipe which I'm in the process of veganizing) while I busied myself with this oldie-but-goodie from a 2005 Dispatch Food Section.

Often it's hard to find good vegetarian/vegan recipes in newspapers (they're usually relegated to the once-a-year write ups about "crazy" diets/lifestyles) but every now and then I luck out. This particular recipe was still a little patronizing; its headline, "Even 20-Somethings Can Handle This Half-Hour Meal," implying that young people can't cook.

Bah! Humbug! I say to that! So I took the tone as a challenge and using their recipe as a template, created what is now my go-to signature chili dish. The Doc prefers it to meat-based chili and Pap ate two bowls without realizing it was vegan. As with most of my recipes, the secret ingredient is vegetables and wine.

Megan's Patented Tri-Color 3-Bean Chili (patent pending)
(Though I give the original measurements here, I almost always double the recipe)

6 tablespoons olive oil
3 teaspoons chili powder
3 teaspoons ground cumin
3 teaspoons paprika (smoked if you have it)
3 teaspoons dried oregano (mexican if you have it)
3 teaspoons chipotle powder
1 very large yellow onion, diced
2 tablespoons cheater garlic (4-5 cloves, minced)
1 medium-large yellow pepper, chopped
1/2 bag shredded carrots
2 stalks of celery, chopped thin
12 oz. dry red wine (I usually use a cab or zinfandel)
1 1/2 - 2 bags frozen ground beef substitute (I like Quorn)
1 can dark red kidney beans, drained
1 can pinto beans, drained
1 can garbanzo beans, drained
2 cans diced tomatoes with juices

Heat a large pot over medium heat. Add the oil and all the spices. Cook, stirring often for about 5 minutes.
Add the onion and peppers. Cook until soft. Add the garlic and cook for another minute or so. Add the wine, stir well, and bring to a simmer.
Add the meat, beans, tomatoes, carrots, and celery. Increase the heat to high and bring to a boil, stirring often to keep anything from sticking to the bottom of the pot. Reduce the heat to low, cover, and cook for about 15-20 minutes, stirring occasionally.

While this was simmering, I also made some cornbread. Any recipe (or box of Jiffy mix) will do. I use a pretty basic recipe from The Veganomicon with two slight changes. First, spray your cast-iron pan down with oil and leave it in the oven while the oven is pre-heating and you are mixing up the batter. Having the pan all hot and oily, gives the finished cornbread and nice crispy bottom crust and sides. Second little trick, invented by The Raccoon for last year's "Regular F**king Chili-fest," is to drizzle the top of the bread with real maple syrup or honey about halfway through the baking time. Too soon and the liquid will fall through the batter; too late and it will just sort of puddle and scorch on top. Both mistake versions taste just about as good as the right way, though, so don't worry too much about the timing.

On Leeks

Did you know that the leek is the national emblem of Wales?

It's true! According to legend, Welsh soldiers were ordered to wear leeks on their helmets to differentiate themselves from the enemy. And everybody knows that nothing says "fearsome" like a phalanx of charging warriors bedecked in vegetables.

But what to do with the leeks after you've defeated the Saxon hordes? I suggest this little recipe, veganized from the Jan 2010 issue of Food&Wine. Serve it up with a few roasted red peppers, some steamed asparagus, and a chilled glass of Franciscan Estates Chardonnay, and you've got a meal fit for fete-ing a victorious army. Or feeding the Doc, Roomie & Uncle Ex-Pat (who's home from Prague for the holidays) on a peaceful Wednesday night in December. It's a versatile meal.

Battle-Ready Cavatappi with Creamy Leeks & Spinach

1 pound cavatappi (or any kind of curly pasta; rotini, fusilli, gemelli, etc.)
1 1/2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 large leek, white and light green parts only, sliced very thin
2/3 - 3/4 cup of plain soy yogurt (see note below)
1/3 - 1/4 cup rice or soy milk (see note below)
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg (see note below)
4 cups densely packed baby spinach, coarsely chopped
1/2 cup lightly packed basil leaves, finely chopped
1/4 teaspoon sea salt
1/8 teaspoon fresh ground black pepper

Note: The original recipe calls for a cup of heavy cream, a decidedly un-vegan ingredient. I had some plain soy yogurt left over from Blustery Day Celery Soup so I decided to experiment. I put the yogurt in a 1-cup glass measuring dish and then added the milk until it looked like heavy cream and I had a full cup. The nutmeg I added because I find that it cuts the sort of sweet taste of vegan dairy products (especially yogurt and rice milks). Feel free to use the creamy liquid of your choice.

In a large pot, cook the pasta according to the package for al dente. Drain and set aside.
In a big casserole dish/dutch oven, heat the olive oil over medium heat.
Add the leek and cook until soft.
Add the yogurt mixture and simmer until slightly thickened.
Add the spinach and cook until wilted but still bright green.
Add the cooked pasta and toss over medium heat until coated with the sauce. Add the salt and pepper and toss.
Remove from heat, add the basil, toss again, and serve.

The Cabbage Patch

I was racking my brain these past few days, trying to figure out how to frame my latest culinary caper. I had the delicious recipe but nothing in which to couch it. No clever anecdote, no homespun yarns, nothing.

Nothing.

It was the eleventh hour and things looked bleak. You were on your way, loyal fans & detractors, to gettin' nuthin' for Christmas.

And then like a beacon in the night, like Rudolph's nose so bright, my laptop jingled: an instant message. A friend of mine (who, strangely, I interact more with via Facebook than I ever did when we knew each other in the real world) and his wife are expecting their first child. Happy news, indeed. Callooh! Callay!

I just love new babies. Not that I want any of my own - I'd rather spoon an eye out than have a kid - but I truly love it when people that I know get pregnant. People who aren't me having babies delight me to no end. Whether or not the baby itself will delight me is hit or miss. I'm not particularly maternal and I'm more likely to scare a baby than play with it.

Now, I often attribute this lack of maternal instinct to the fact that my Mom staunchly refused to let my sister and I have Cabbage Patch Kids. They were all the rage when I was a kid and I vaguely remember my AuntNYC sending me one for Christmas, much to my mom's barely contained ire. I don't think I was even allowed to play with it; the poor doll just got packed away in the back of The Closet (a giant storage area/attic access in the play-room of my childhood home) never to be seen again. My lack of garden-born babydolls as a kid very possibly correlates directly to my aversion to children as an adult.


How does all of this lead to a frame for my latest recipe (you might be wondering)? Well, it just so happens that said recipe is for cabbage. Whether or not my cabbage came from a patch that also produces babies, I do not know. What I do know is that braised cabbage is delicious and full of all kinds of important (whether you're making a baby or not) nutrional things like folate and calcium and iron and fiber.

And so, thank you, Impending Baby Breeze for the blog inspiration. In your honor (and for all my contemporaries having babies/with babies; there are more and more of you every day), here's the recipe for the newly christened (ha, extended metaphors) Baby, Oh Baby Braised Red Cabbage.

3 tablespoons olive oil
3 small-medium onions, sliced thin
2 tablespoons brown sugar
1/2 apple cider vinegar
2 cups fresh apple cider
1 cup vegetable broth
1 cinnamon stick
1 dried bay leaf
1 1/2 teaspoon salt (to taste)
1/4 teaspoon black pepper (to taste)
1 big ol' head of red cabbage, cut into as many wedges as will fit in your casserole dish, core intact

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. In an oven-proof saucepan or casserole dish, heat the oil over medium heat. Add the onions and cook for about 10 minutes or until the edges carmelize. Add the sugar and cook until dissolved. Add the vinegar and, using a wooden spoon, scrape up all the brown onion bits from the bottom of the pan. Stir in the stock, cinnamon stick, bay leaf, salt and pepper. Add the cabbage in a single layer (though the wedges can be touching, so you can really sort of cram them in). Bring to a boil. Cover and transfer to the oven. Braise (a fancy name for 'roasting in juices') until the cabbage is tender, about 45 minutes.

Transfer the cabbage wedges to a bowl or tray with a slotted spoon (a pasta-scooping claw works well too). Throw out the cinnamon stick and bay leaf (don't believe the old wives; bay leaves aren't poisonous, they just don't taste particularly good solo) and enjoy.

For additional tastiness, pour the remaining liquid in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil then reduce heat and simmer for 10-15 minutes until reduced by half. Spoon the sauce over the cabbage. If you're in a time crunch, you can skip this step, but it's really worth it.

Though this was a main dish for me (accoutered with corn, green beans, and a spinach-balsamic salad), Roomie and my Pap enjoyed it with homemades (slovenian sausages, similar to brats), curly fries, and cooked corn&carrots. Roomie topped it off with Southern Tier's Krampus Imperial Helles Lager and called it a dinner well-made. Also delicious: serving it cold with tomatoes on rye bread the next day.

Baby, you never had it so good.

On Gingerbread

I'd like to take you back, friends and enemies, to a simpler time. A time before grad school. Before texting was a way of life. Before full-time jobs and having bills to pay. A time before you could drink legally. A time when movie franchises like "Star Wars" and "Harry Potter" and "X-Men" were in their infancy and still held so much promise.

Let's call this magical time "Christmas 2002." HoneyBunny, my high-school boyfriend, and I were no longer dating. We were, however, BFF's and he had moved into my parents' guest room after we both dropped out of Kenyon College to go on "sabbatical;" a sabbatical that would end with him joining the army and me back in school at OSU. Like I said, simpler times.

In preparation of the theatrical release of "Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers," we watched "LOTR:FOTR" every day for a week, often twice a day, while decorating the house for Christmas. We also made gingerbread cookies and decorated them to look like members of the fellowship and characters from the books:

Clockwise: Saruman, Elrond, Treebeard, Galadriel, Arwen, Gollum/Smeagol

Clockwise: Gandalf, Boromir (with the Horn of Gondor), Frodo (with frosting Sting on his belt), and Aragorn.

We totally saw LOTR:TT twice on opening day...and ended up seeing it 5 times in the theaters before the month was over. Though the pictures were taken almost a decade ago, the cookies are still in a Ziploc container sitting in the back of the garage refrigerator. Yes, we are just that awesome.

***

Now it's 7 years later and life is more complicated. The HB's out of the army, I'm out of grad school. We're still BFF's but we haven't seen each other for more than a week straight since he moved to Alaska. We're both divorced. We can drink legally and do so often - possibly to the detriment of our health. Movies that we'd be willing (or have the time and money) to see twice on opening day are few and far between.

But the gingerbread remains the same. In the past my mom has made the dough, rolled it, and baked it. I'm just there to pick out the cookie-cutter shapes and frost them once they're cool. That's the Simple Times way of doing things, though. And I'm a Grown-Up. With a Mostly-Complicated-Life. So this year I decided to tackle the gingerbread making process from start to finish.

Simply Wonderful Vegan Gingerbread

a veganized version of the "Gingerbread Cookies" recipe from Wilton's "Christmas!" Recipe & Idea Book 1992

8 cups flour

1 cup brown sugar

1 1/4 cup molasses

3 eggs worth of Ener-G egg replacer (4 1/2 teaspoons powder + 6 tbs warm water)

1 cup vegan butter, softened

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon allspice

1 teaspoon cloves

1 teaspoon cinnamon

1 teaspoon ginger

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Mix 3 cups of flour and all the remaining ingredients in the mixer at low speed until blended. Increase the speed to medium and mix until very smooth. Reduce speed to low and slowly add the remaining 5 cups of flour, one cup at a time. The dough will get very stiff, so you may have to add and mix the last cup of flour by hand. If the dough seems too dry (as mine did, egg substitute is not as liquid-y as real eggs), add extra tablespoons of warm water until the dough is doughy. Chill for about an hour and then return to room temperature before rolling. Bake 8-12 minutes depending on the size of the cookie.

Here's the rolling station. My mom has perfected many secret-special ways of making perfect, addictive, legendary Christmas cookies. Mom Tip #948: Roll the dough between two, lightly floured sheets of wax paper. #196: A marble rolling pin is way better than a wooden one.

Once the dough is all rolled out, cut some delicious shapes. Mom Tip #763: Flour the cookie cutter in between cuts so the shapes don't stick.

I decided to do a few trays of tiny, bite-sized gingerbread men. A few trays of bells and trees. A tray of giant men. And a few trays of moose/deer of varying sizes. It all depends on your patience, really. Mom Tip #521: The larger the cookies, the quicker you'll go through the dough.

After about 4 trays of cookies, my arms gave out and I called in reinforcements (AKA Roomie and his rowing muscles). He turned out to be something of a rolling pin prodigy. Check out a forthcoming FB album of Roomie making pinwheels - the most rolling-centered, labor-intensive cookie in my mom's considerable cookie repertoire. Mom Tip #117: Delegate, delegate, delegate!

And here's the finished product. You might notice that the two racks with trees and bells look much darker than the rack of men. This would be because I forgot to bake them. My mom's oven is digital. After the time runs out, it automatically reduces the heat to 150 degrees and blinks hold. When I put the bells and trees in, I forgot to set the timer and then forgot that I forgot to set the timer. When I looked over at the oven and saw it blinking "hold," I assumed that they had baked and were burning. Since they didn't look quite done, I put them in for another 2 minutes. It wasn't until my mom and I were putting the cookies into Tupperware that I realized my mistake. This is not a horrible thing (my mom assures me) so we just put them back in the oven for ten minutes and a disaster was averted. Mom Tip #324 & 325: Cookies are never ruined only unexpected & I've made every baking mistake at least once so don't feel too bad.

The cookies are as yet un-decorated (and, unfortunately, there are no fantasy epics in the theater this season) so I'm taking suggestions.

Mom Tip#1: It simply isn't Christmas without cookies.

Oh, The Weather Outside Is Frightful

Perhaps you have noticed, avid reader, it is December. Low temperatures, high winds, snow- & ice-covered roads. It's the most treacherous time of the year for us runners/bicylcers.

Mother Nature and I have an agreement though. I respect her ability to wipe out entire civilizations with a well-placed hurricane; she in turn, respects my refusal to stop running outdoors in the face of inclement weather. I don't curse her name when she makes it rain on raceday; she doesn't smite me with lightning when I ride my bike during a thunderstorm. We have a pretty good thing going.

So was I deterred by this Wednesday's nation-wide windstorm? Of course not. The meteorologists might have worked themselves into a fine frenzy, but I was feelin' fine.


It was a most excellent run.

And what better way to end a day spent out-of-doors than with a big bowl of homemade soup? The following is a veganized adaptation of a recipe from this month's Bon Appetit magazine.The original calls for mixing the minced tarragon into plain, non-fat yogurt, and sauteing chunks of sourdough in olive oil to make croutons, then using both as garnish. I was too tired, too sore, and too wind-chapped to care about the ooh-la-la factor.

Blustery Day Celery Soup with Fresh Tarragon

2 teaspoons olive oil
6 green onions, chopped
1 bunch of celery with leaves, chopped
4 cups vegetable broth
6-8 baby white-skinned potatoes, peeled and chopped
1/4 teaspoon celery seeds
3 tablespoons plain soygurt/non-dairy sour cream
2-3 tablespoons fresh tarragon, chopped fine
1 loaf sourdough bread

Heat the olive oil in a medium/large soup pot. Add the onions and sautee a few minutes.
Add the celery, broth, potatoes, and celery seed. Stir to well and bring to a boil.
Reduce heat and cover, letting the veggies simmer until soft, about 15 minutes or so.
Working in batches, puree the soup in a blender (or use an immersion blender like the one that's on my Christmas list) then return to the pot.
With the heat on low, slowly stir in the soy yogurt/sour cream. Sprinkle the tarragon on top and replace the lid, allowing the herbs to steam a bit.
Give everything a few more good stirs before serving with thick slices of sourdough bread.

***

So let it snow! Lace up those running shoes! Batten down your hatches! Brave the elements! Look Mother Nature in the eye and refuse to blink! Make some soup!

Viva la winter!

Mixing It Up

I'm spending December at my parents' house, affectionately known as "The One-Four-Four-Eight."

Don't be misled by the ostentatious jewelry that is in my possesion. I am still Megan from the cul-de-sac.

But I digress.

There are many nice things about staying at home, not least of which is having an entire month off work. I have nothing to do but decorate, work out, decorate, and cook. And decorate. Well, the decorating is pretty much done (pictures forthcoming), so in between workouts, I've started to do some baking. Since my mom is in the middle of "The Cookie Making 2009," she has her mixer sitting out on the counter 24-7.

Staring at me.

Taunting me.

Reminding me I've never used a stand-mixer before.

Suggesting in dulcet tones that I lacked the kitchen werewithal to successfully use a stand mixer.



Now I'm not one to be bullied by inanimate objects, even those who make compelling arguments, so I grabbed the rotting bananas from the kitchen table, walked my ten paces, and prepared to do battle with mixer.

Unfortunately for my ego, it did not dawn on me until I put most of the ingredients in the mixer's bowl that the recipe I had did not actually need to be mixed. In fact, one of the instructions explicitly reads, "do not over mix." Sigh. So much for blaming my kitchen ineptitude on the crap-tacular-ness of my apartment's kitchen.

Needlessly Mixed Banana-Raspberry Bread

2 cups all-purpose flour
3/4 cup brown sugar
2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
4 overripe bananas
1/4 cup rice milk
1 egg worth of Ener-G egg replacer
1 teaspoon vanilla extract (Note: my mom purchased some kick-ass vanilla-bean paste that I used instead. It's concentrated and delicious and expensive-but-worth-it if you can find it)
1 pint carton of fresh raspberries

Mix all the dry ingredients in a mixer bowl.
In a seperate bowl, mash the bananas together with the milk, egg-replacer, and vanilla.
While the mixer is running on low, add the wet mixture to the dry.

**Note: Here's where I just mixed the hell out of the batter because running the mixer on high is very fun. According to the original recipe, the wet and dry are to be mixed until "just combined." I leave it up to your discretion. End**

Remove the bowl from the mixer stand and fold in the raspberries, stirring gently to evenly distribute without smooshing up the berries too much.
Pour the batter into a greased loaf pan and bake at 350 degrees for an hour. Let cool in the pan for about 10 minutes before removing to a wire rack to cool completely.

Despite the overmixing, the bread was deliciously sweet/sour.

And it totally put that mouthy mixer in its place.

A Blended Family

As you probably know by now, friends and enemies, the kitchen in my apartment is quite small. Teeny fridge, cabinet space at a premium, no pantry, only one full sized burner, etcetera after diminutive etcetera. But I manage to make due, and as far as apartment kitchens go, I've been told mine is pretty much status quo.

By comparison, however, my mom's kitchen is palatial. Seriously, my kitchen fits in the breakfast nook. There are bay windows. An over-stuffed, leather easy chair. A desk. A full-sized kitchen table. A free-standing, stove-top island. An oven that cooks evenly. Two microwaves. A gourmet fridge (and two more in the garage!). An eating bar.

It's the latter that I really love (although I've taken some kick-ass naps in the easy chair). The bar separates the breakfast nook from the kitchen proper. I've mentioned before that the kitchen is usually the center of action during my parties, but having a bar in the kitchen often turns everyday cooking & baking into a party. The other night was one of those UPE's (Unplanned Party Event).

I wanted to stock my mom's fridge with dips and dressings. She's taken to eating RBD so I figure I'd earn my winter break room & board by keeping her veggies well accompanied. The Doc was also home, enjoying his (highly unusual) second day off in a row. What started off as me and a G&T in the kitchen alone, turned into a Christmas-carol-soundtracked, bar-tended, family event.

Roomie kept my mom's vodkatonic's and The Doc's 7&7's flowing as I chopped up a tray of crudites and proceeded to blend up double recipes of most of the dips in my repertoire. The Doc and Roomie bellied themselves up to the bar and taste-tested as each dip came out of the blender. Not-Peanut Sauce. Tenth-Mile Rawnch. Roomie's Favorite Vinaigrette. Yes, I Said 'Nutcheese' Nutcheese. And two new-to-blog dips for your gustatory pleasure.

Green Greenie Tahini Dressing

2/3 cup tahini

1 cup of water (for thinning)

1/4 cup orange juice

1 heaping tablespoon cheater garlic

generous 1/4 cup of roughly chopped parsley

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon paprika

a shake or two of chipotle powder

Put everything but the water in the blender and mix well, adding the water slowly and as needed to facilitate blending. This dressing should have a pretty, pale green color from the parsley. Delicious with celery and also good as a dip for falafel.

Party In Your Mouth Red Pepper-Cannellini Dip

1 red pepper, chopped

1 can cannellini beans, rinsed & drained

1-2 teaspoons dried basil

1 teaspoon balsamic vinegar

1 tablespoon cheater garlic

1/2 teaspoon each salt and pepper

2 tablespoons olive oil

Blend everything until smooth, adding warm water if needed to thin the mixture. This is really good with raw spinach and would be a wonderful sauce for gnocchi or ravioli.

***

Moral of the story? Blenders + cocktails + rawveg + a smorgasborg of dips + family + spacious kitchen = spontaneous party.

Beens!! 'n Greens!!

So I watched "The Wrestler" Monday night. Not a bad movie, if a tad predictably unpredictable, given it had Aronofsky's trademark, "no-ending ending." But there was the staplegun scene and Marisa Tomei's a fox. I give it 4 and-a-half stars out of 5.

Watching an Oscar-nominated film put me in the mood for Beens!! 'n Greens!!, my patent-pending, Academy-Award-Ceremony-accompanying dishes extraordinaire. I made it last year for the little Oscar party I threw for me, Roomie, and Kev. Both dishes are light enough to eat for all 4 hours of the telecast and they both go great with champagne, the latter being a must for any Hollywood-themed party. Of course, my Oscar party wasn't so much "Hollywood-themed" as it was "I made the boys wear ties and dress shirts over their pyjama pants and I threw on some costume jewelry over mine."

Since I make these recipes in tandem, I'll give you the complete recipes for each first, and then the prep for both intertwined. Both recipes are originally from the Veganomicon, a cookbook which, if you do not already own, you should ask Santa for this Christmas.



Dill-Basmati Rice with Chard and Garbanzo Beens!!


2 cups basmati rice
2 small onions, diced fine
2 tablespoons grapeseed oil
1/2 teaspoon cumin seeds
1 teaspoon garam masala **Note: If you, like my mom, have a spice rack with no garam masala, you can use a pinch each (1/16 - scant 1/8 teaspoon) of cinnamon, nutmeg, ground cloves, and coriander seeds. End note**
1 bunch fresh dill, stems removed, chopped fine (about 3/4 cup)
1 pound chard (any color) rinsed, thick stems removed
1 can garbanzo beens!!, drained and rinsed
2 cups vegetable stock
1 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon lemon
2-3 turns of fresh ground pepper


Bulgur, Babygreens, & Cannellini Salad with Garlic-Paprika Dressing


for the salad:
1 cup bulgur
1 1/3 cup boiling water
2 cups thinly sliced mushrooms
1 can cannellini beens!!, drained and rinsed
1 small red onion, halved or quartered, sliced thin
3 handfulls of mixed baby greens (I use the pre-washed kind that come in a big plastic container)


for the dressing:
1/4 cup olive oil
1/4 cup red wine vinegar
1 tablespoon basalmic vinegar
1 heaping tablespoon cheater garlic
1 teaspoon paprika
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
3/4 teaspoon salt
a few turns of fresh ground black pepper


Preparation
In a medium-sized bowl, rinse the rice with a few changes of water, then cover with water and let soak for at least 20 minutes.
Place the bulgur in a small pot with a tight-fitting lid. Measure out 1 1/3 cups of boiling water, pour over the bulgur, and cover. Let sit for 30 minutes.
While the grains are soaking/cooking, prepare the salad dressing. Whisk together all the dressing ingredients together in a very large bowl. I like the Tupperware Mega-Bowl. Add the mushrooms, beans, and onions. Stir to coat and let marinate while the bulgur continues to cook.
While the salad is marinating, chop & prep all the ingredients for the dill-rice dish. Steam the chard in a steamer or pot with about 2 inches of water. When the leaves are limp and bright green, transfer to a bowl and squeeze out as much water as you can. Roll into buches and chop well. Drain the rice.
When the bulgur is cooked, pour it and any water left in the pot into the bowl with the veggies & dressing. Stir to coat. Add the handfulls of greens!!, toss to coat, then cover the bowl with a lid or tightly with saran wrap. Put in the fridge (or out on the front porch if it's chilly December/end-of-February Oscar night) and let sit for an hour.
In at least a 4-qt. pot or dutch oven, heat the grapeseed oil over medium heat. Add the cumin seeds (and coriander seeds if you aren't using pre-made garam masala) and fry for 20-30 seconds. Add the onions and stir. Add the other spices (or garam masala) and saute until the onions are soft. Add the rice and stir well so that all the grains get a coating of the oil-spice mix. Add the dill, garbanzo beens!!, veggie stock, salt, lemon juice, and pepper. Increase the heat to bring the rice to a boil. Immediately reduce heat to low and cover tight. Cook for 25-30 minutes or until all the broth is absorbed, stirring often to keep the bottom from sticking/burning.


Serve the salad over a bed of spinach (if you, like me, like a lot of greens!! with your beens!!).
Serve the rice with a lemon wedge and a sprinkle of cayenne (if you want more heat).



And get your acceptance speech ready for when your dinner guests start singing your praises.

November in Recipes

According to my blog/fic friends, this past month was NaBoPoMo/NaNoWriMo (National Blog Post Month & National Novel Writing Month, respectively); the conceit being that one should make the effort to write/blog at least once a day, every day of the month. Since acronyms, writing, and nationally-sanctioned reasons for doing things are all on the List of Things Megan Straight-Up Enjoys; and since I have both a blog & a novel in progress, you’d think I would have been all over this shit, right?

Wrong.

April might be the cruelest month, but when you teach quarters, November is certainly one of the busiest. Many things conspired to keep me from my extra-curricular writing: The Royales’ show, two 5Ks, Avenue Q, teaching my last classes, collecting & grading final portfolios, an impromptu weekend trip to Hilton Head, several massages, packing up my apartment to move home for a month, a cocktail/movie night with friends, the Flying Feather 4-Miler, loving up on my dog, cleaning out the upstairs bedrooms at my parents’ for the mother-of-all garage sales, my sister’s car getting stolen… You know, the usual.

So here, to make up for my complete lack of any writing for the past 30 days, I give you My Month in Recipes.

I Totally Miss My Students More Than I Should PB&B Muffins

1 cup whole wheat flour
¾ cup oats
1/3 cup packed brown sugar, plus 3 tablespoons for sprinkling
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 cup soymilk
½ cup peanut butter
2-3 mashed bananas
1 ½ teaspoon egg replacer dissolved in 2 tablespoons warm water
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Preheat the oven to 375. Grease a 12-cup muffin tin. Wonder what you will do with yourself on Tuesday/Thursday nights for the rest of the month.
Sift together all the dry ingredients in a large bowl. Set aside.
Whisk or beat with a hand mixer the milk, PB, egg, banana, vanilla, and oil until smooth. Think to yourself that you will have a new batch of students to get to know next quarter.
Add the wet to the dry and mix until just combined. Remember that you probably won’t be teaching next quarter, thank you very much budget/enrollment cuts.
Spoon into the muffin tins and sprinkle the tops with the extra tablespoons of brown sugar. Lick you fingers to dull the sharp pain of unemployment/no more fun students.
Bake for 18 minutes or until brown and delicious looking.

These muffins combine well with the slightly uncomfortable feeling of wearing one’s heart on one’s sleeve and a mug of hot tea

Two 5Ks Are Better Than One Spiced Wine

3 cups apple cider (I used some that I had mulled over Halloween with some allspice, cloves, & cinnamon sticks, but you could use plain no problem)
2 cups dry red wine (I used Frontera Cab-Sauv)
1 orange, sliced in thin rings
1 big apple, sliced cross-core in thin rings
1 teaspoon black peppercorns, in a spice ball

Put everything in a pot. Stretch your aching hamstrings and quads.
Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer for 10-15 minutes. Remind yourself that pain is temporary but race shirts are forever.
Serve hot in mugs or cold over ice in martini glasses.
Optional: add 2 Aleve or an Rx-strength Motrin, and an all-joint rub-down with Ben-Gay.


Moving Out Macaroni -or- Anything We Don’t Eat Today Will Spoil-aroni

Cook a big pot of short pasta. I used tri-color rotini. Drain and return to the pot. Set aside but keep covered so it doesn’t get cold and gross.

In a large frying pan or pot (it depends on how much on-the-verge-of-spoiling produce you’re going to toss in) sauté in 2-3 tablespoons of grapeseed oil:

1 onion
1 big tablespoon cheater garlic
mushrooms
2 peppers, chopped, slimy parts rinsed off (I used red & orange)
corn cut from two cobs of corn
a handful or so of shredded carrots
chopped or mandolined yellow squash/zucchini , moldy stems removed
2-3 celery ribs

When everything is soft and fragrant, remove from heat and add fresh spinach, chard, and basil, sliced in ribbons. Cover pan to let the greens steam.

While the greens are steaming, blend the following in your blender:

1 package of Mori-Nu firm silken tofu (about 14 oz.)
5 tablespoons vegetable broth (or water for thinning)
1/8 teaspoon nutmeg
¼ teaspoon black pepper
½ teaspoon salt (use a bit more if you use water)

Add the vegetable mix to the pasta, stirring to evenly distribute.
Add the tofu cream to the pasta pot and stir to cover everything evenly.

Serve with steamed green beans, asparagus, tomato slices, and any other slightly moldy/slimy/stinky veg you might have in your fridge. Not throwing away food is fun!


Fireworks & Fake Diamonds Cran-Gin Cocktail

heaping ½ cup fresh cranberries
2 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons lemon juice
2 cups apple cider (again, mine was pre-mulled)
1 bottle ginger beer
2 generous shots gin (I used Tanqueray)

In a pitcher, muddle the cranberries and sugar. Add the lemon juice and muddle some more if it seems like the berries aren’t muddling properly.
Add the cider, ginger beer, and gin. I suppose you could leave the gin out but why would you?
Stir and serve chilled over ice.

Enjoy this sparkly-tasting drink with friends while watching the unfortunately-dead hotness that is Cary Grant and Grace Kelly verbally sparring to some Riviera fireworks. It’s about as sexy as you can get with all your clothes on.


I Should Be Packing Cranberry-Ginger Cornbread Pile

2 sticks butter, softened
½ cup plus 3 tablespoons sugar
1 ¼ cup fresh cranberries
1 cup all-purpose flour
½ cup yellow cornmeal
1 teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
3 teaspoons egg replacer powder, dissolved in 4 tablespoons warm water
1 tablespoon finely chopped candied ginger

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Panic slightly over how difficult it is to pack and move one month’s worth of your possessions.
Melt ½ a stick of butter in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Recover from aforementioned panic attack by burning your finger.
Add 3 tablespoons of sugar and stir until dissolved.
Add the cranberries and stir to coat.
Cook until cranberries begin to pop. Swear loudly when you get cranberry juice on your newest race t-shirt. Belatedly put on an apron.
Pour into a loaf pan, distributing evenly to cover the bottom. Let cool.

Sift together flour, cornmeal, baking powder & soda, and salt. Get excited because in a few short days you will be able to listen to Christmas music; hum a few bars of “Adeste Fidelis.”
Beat the remaining butter and sugar with a hand or stand mixer until pale and fluffy.
With the mixer still on add the egg replacer mixture and beat until smooth.
Reduce mixer speed to low and slowly add the dry mix. Forget, at first, to turn the beater down and swear to the tune of “Frosty the Snowman” while sweeping up piles of flour.
Fold in the ginger. Panic again when you remember you still have laundry to do.
Pour the batter into the loaf pan over the cranberries. Smooth the top with an offset spatula.
Place the loaf pan on a rimmed cookie sheet, and bake for about 33 minutes or until a tester comes out clean. Do absolutely no packing while you wait; instead, read fanfiction, creep on FB, and watch TV.
Transfer pan to a wire rack and let cool for 15 minutes. Begrudgingly do a load of laundry and pull your duffel bag out from under the bed.
Invert pan onto the wire rack, and let cool cranberry side up.

Loyal readers might remember my last upside-down dessert debacle. This one fared no better.

Here’s what it was supposed to look like:

Here’s what mine looked like:

Possible problems? A too-dry batter. The original non-vegan recipe called for 2 large eggs. Two eggs worth of egg replacer might not be wet enough. Perhaps adding some soymilk would have helped. I might also have been a tad overzealous with the cooling time and flipped the pan when it was too hot. Maybe the cranberries weren’t cooked enough. Maybe the pan wasn’t greased enough. Maybe I should just stick to right-side-up foods from now on.

Consolation? It may have looked like something I punted out of my kitchen and onto a serving plate, but it tasted a-freaking-mazing. I may start putting chopped ginger into all the cornbread I make. Sweet, savory, sour, and completely eaten.

***

And there you have it, kids - a month of kitchen ridiculousness. I laughed, I cried, I ate, I drank.

Now, if only I can figure out how to fit writing in there too...

The Opossum

In honor of Halloween (and in lieu of a recipe), I present for your consideration, friends & enemies, something a little more...poetic.

Based on true, real-life events.

"The Opossum"

Once upon a midnight dreary, I returned to my car, weak and weary,
After teaching many a bored and drowsy first year boor—
The wind whipped ‘round the fallen leaves, dry and crinkling, from the eaves,
And though I’d parked in the Black Lot before, I felt a shudder to the core,
“You’re over-tired and under-paid,” I said, unlocking the car door,
“Only this and nothing more.”

Ah, distinctly I recall, it was October in Athens, in the fall,
The kind you can’t help but adore.
Yet eagerly I yearned for Break, the six-week kind we Bobcats take,
when I could leave student essays behind, for reading of a simpler kind;
the kind of romantic, character-driven lore, the stories your brain cries out for—
mindless fluff, and nothing more.

As I left my job behind, a somber mood filled my mind, creeping, grasping
eerie fingers, lingered ‘til I could not ignore
the rapid beating of my heart. So I sat at a red light repeating,
“You’re over-tired and under-paid,” pushing the gas to the floor,
“Only this and nothing more.”

Pulling into my apartment’s lot, I gathered all the courage I got
“Silly,” said I, “you’re far too old for megrims anymore;
it’s just this creepy season that has relieved you of your reason
and has your imagination teasin’” – here I opened the car door –
“Only this and nothing more.”

Toward my apartment I started walking, though my fears continued stalking
each step I took along the path to my front door.
Suddenly I heard a rustling, as if something quietly bustling
stealthily hustling, quickly muscling through the bushes
under the window of the apartment next door—
halting my approach to my apartment door.

The moon from behind diaphanous clouds, silvery streaks like burial shrouds,
shone down upon the path to my apartment door
and revealed to me the noise’s source, that which stopped me on my course,
my fear returning in full force— an opossum crouched at my apartment door!
Crouched upon the brick-lined stoop in front of my apartment door,
Crouched, and staring, and nothing more.

This ghostly animal beguiling my fearful fancy into smiling
by the spooked and panicked countenance it wore,
“Though your fur be pale and matted, thou,” I said, “art sure not rabid;
creeping, twitching marsupial wandering on paws of four—
get thee off the stoop in front of my apartment door!”
He just crouched and stared, and nothing more.
Then. me thought, the shadows grew denser, the muscles in my shoulders tenser,
and my hopes for safe passage plummeted to the floor.
“Wretch” I cried, “what Devil lent thee – by what demons hath he sent thee
courage – courage to remain there sitting, staring at the stoop of my front door?
Let me pass without your caring and enter through my door.
He just crouched and stared, and nothing more.

“Opossum!” said I, “thing of evil! – Opossum still, if rat or devil! –
Get thee back into the bushes and away from my front door!
Leave no droppings as a token of the peace of mine you’ve broken
and the curses I have spoken – quit the stoop before my door!
Take thy creepy tail from out my heart and take they form away from my door!”
He just crouched and stared, and nothing more.

And the opossum, never quitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
on the brick-lined stoop just before my apartment door;
and his red eyes have the seeming of a demon who is dreaming
and the porch light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor
and my soul from out that shadow that is crouching on the floor
shall be lifted – nevermore!

Absence Makes The Heart Grow Fonder

If that is, in fact, true, loyal readers and detractors, then you all must be pretty damned fond of me at this point.

And though I continue to hold all of you in the highest regard, I'll be honest; I haven't missed any of you one bit. Sorry. It's just been too busy 'round here for me to do much pining.



What, you may be wondering, could possibly be so busying that I would abandon my beloved blog?

Two words: Par. Tay.


Yes, indeed, it was that time of year again - Roomie's Birthday Weekend. It's kind of like a holiday unto itself. This is the fifth year that I have hosted the soiree and it's always rocking. If there is one thing I love more than vegan cooking & baking, it's hosting a party. It's in my blood. My mother is a consummate hostess. I have very fond memories of the Christmas parties she would throw for the hospital where my dad worked. The house all lit up, everyone in cocktail dresses, waiters in black tie with trays of drinks and hors d'oeuvres. My sister and I in stiff taffeta skirts or velvet dresses sipping sparkling grape juice and staying up way too late; raiding the cookie & candy trays, sliding around on the hard-wood dining room floor in stocking feet (after finally kicking off the patent-leather dress shoes). I love to throw a party.

Since Roomie's bday is in October, his party is usually a Halloween-themed masquerade. Crepe paper, balloons, paper lanterns, cake, ice cream, costumes, fog machines & strobe lights, souvenir buttons and t-shirts...the works. This year, though, he requested something that wasn't ghosts and ghoulies. He was turning the big two-five so I decided on a silver-bedecked gala evening. Twinkle lights, sliver and gray streamers and balloons, stars hanging from the ceiling, three white-draped tables of cakes and cookies, and, of course, an open bar. There were 40 people in our little apartment at one point, and I was dancing on top of a cooler. If you're gonna throw a party, throw it right.

Obviously a party of this magnitude takes a lot of planning and preparation. I start buying supplies in August, sending out the invites in mid-September. My mom bakes for two weeks straight. And the week of the party is a whirlwind of grocery- and liquor-store runs, furniture moving, and bruised thumbs from pushing pins into the walls and ceilings. I'm getting the hankering to throw another party just writing about the last one.

However, I'm always a little bummed the week after a party. Kinda like the day after Christmas, you know? The crash after the high. That depression combined with the fact that I'm still teaching from 6-9, four nights a week, doesn't leave much time for cooking, let alone blogging.

But I'm feeling better now (thanks in part to a manic show of poor judgement the other night at Casa and The Raccoon's visit/stop-over on her way to moving to NC with her beau), and better = blogging.


Re-Fatted ChocoPecan Banana Bread


3 very ripe bananas
1/4 cup applesauce
1/4 cup canola oil
1/2 cup sugar
2 tablespoons molasses
2 cups white flour
3/4 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 handfulls vegan chocolate chips
2 big handfulls pecans


In a large bowl, mash up the bananas and all the wet stuff until smooth.
In another bowl, sift together everything else (but the chips & nuts).
Add the dry to the wet, until just combined.
Add the chocolate chips, stirring to distribute evenly.
Ditto for the pecans (I crumbled them up in my hands because I didn't feel like pulling out/having to wash my nut grinder. This gave me a pretty chunky bread so feel free to grind them first, if you like a smoother nut consistancy.)
Bake in an oven, pre-heated to 350 degrees, for 45-50 minutes.


***

No matter the size of the party, from intimate dinner to beer-pong bash, everyone ends up congregating in the kitchen. This is perhaps because the bar is usually in the kitchen. Maybe it just feels more homey. Whatever the reason, the centrality of the kitchen to a successful party requires a pre-party clearing of the counters. Everything not nailed down gets tossed in the laundry room or in the trash.

Now, try as I might, and despite having very little time to bake, I just couldn't bring myself to throw away the black bananas in the fruit basket. These were so rotten, I couldn't even peel them; I just had to snip the top off and squeeze the banana part out like a gel. So in between streamer-hanging (and freaking out that I had to teach in 2 hours sans the lesson plan that I had decided was less important than party-planning), I baked some bread. It was so dubbed "re-fatted" because I took a low-fat banana bread recipe and added the fat back in via vegan chocolate chips and pecans.

This was a pretty delicious "morning after" treat with a hot cup of yerba mate to chase the tequila shots away. Keep this bread in the fridge and it will last for at least two weeks, allowing you to have "fresh" bakery on hand to offer The Raccoon, when she comes to stay the week. Don't make a face when she dumps a pudding cup on top. Anything goes at a party.

Oh My Aching Back

Usually, it fills me great joy and personal contentment that I spend the majority of my time working out. I"m not really happy without my routine; which includes running 4-5 days a week, being on a bike or spinner 3 days a week, swimming 2-3 times a week, and doing yoga/pilates 3 times a week.

"Hi, my name is Megan and I'm addicted to endorphins."

"Hi, Megan."

My life doesn't really have meaning unless I'm working out; and I'm completely OK with that...until, that is, I get injured. As Roomie will attest, getting injured is, and I say this without hyperbole or dramatic intent, THE END OF THE WORLD FOR ME. When I'm injured, I have to STOP WORKING OUT and stopping for even a few days means I WILL NEVER BE ABLE TO WORK OUT AGAIN because my injury will become SOMETHING CHRONIC and then I'll get FAT and my life will BE PURPOSELESS and I will spiral into a gray, bleak, hopeless depression from which there is NO ESCAPE.

These periods of bleak meaninglessness have happened several times over the past 5 years (swimmer's shoulder, a twisted knee, a torn groin muscle, strained ligaments in my ankle, pulled sacroiliac); basically any time that I have to take more than a day or two off of working out. Roomie, having been there for all of the wailing and gnashing of teeth, has been helping me focus on healing and what I can do, rather than on the injury and what I can't do. "Which sounds better," he'll ask me, "never working out again because it's become chronic (the equivalent of a racial slur to me)? Or resting for a few days and starting fresh?" Hard as it is to do, I must concede the latter.

So here I am, in the 5th day of my inactivity, due to a re-strain of my sacroiliac (at a yoga class, no less! Sigh. 27 never felt so old). True to form, it's been a rough week. Since I don't teach until the late evenings, I have long, long days to try and fill with distractions from both the pain in my back and the depressed thoughts (you will never be fit again!) that wrap their long, stealthy, banana-peel fingers over my shoulders and squeeze.

But, as I have been learning over the course of this blog, cooking & baking helps. Though I can't stand too long in the kitchen, I have been able to turn out a few things in between fanfic chapters and Frasier reruns. It helps pass the time and makes me feel at least vaguely productive. Now, if I could only convince myself it's ok to eat any of these things on a day when I haven't worked out....

Grump-B-Gone 'Nanner & Oat Bread

1 1/2 cup white flour

2/3 cup sugar

1 1/2 teaspoon baking powder

1/4 teaspoon baking soda

1/4 teaspoon salt

3/4 cup oats

1 cup-ish mashed banana (I used 3 that were black as my mood)

1/3 cup soymilk mixed with 1 teaspoon vinegar (to make buttermilk)

1/4 cup vegetable oil

1 1/2 teaspoon vanilla

2 eggs worth of Ener-G egg replacer

Combine all the wet ingredients and mix well. Set aside.

Sift together all the dry ingredients. Add the wet to the dry and mix until just moistened.

Pour batter into a greased loaf pan and bake for 45-55 minutes at 350 degrees or until a tester stuck in the middle comes out clean.

Cool in the pan for about 15 minutes before turning out onto a rack to cool completely.

The Shut-In's Carrot Cake with Ginger-Cream Filling

(like a true shut-in, I made my own "shredded carrots")

for the cake:

1/2 cup butter, softened

1 1/2 cups brown sugar

2 tablespoons flax meal in 6 tablespoons warm water (= 2 eggs)

2-2 1/2 cups blender-ed carrots (see below)

2 cups whole wheat flour

2 tablespoons cornstarch

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon baking powder

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon nutmeg

1/2 teaspoon cloves

for the filling:

1/4 cup butter, softened

2 cups powdered sugar

2 tablespoons warm soymilk (as needed for thinning)

1/2-1 teaspoon powdered ginger (depending on how strong you'd like it)

to prepare the cake:

To make the carrot mixture: mandolin 4-5 big carrots into your blender. Pulse-blend until they have an ABC look about them (already been chewed). Add a little water to facilitate blending if necessary but not much or the batter will be too thin. You don't want carrot soup, just carrot pablum.

In a large bowl, cream the butter and sugar. Add the flax mixture, blender-ed carrots, and oil. Mix well and set aside.

In a smaller bowl, sift together all the dry ingredients. Add the dry to the wet until thoroughly combined. (Add nuts or raisins or pineapple or minced candied ginger or whatever here if you so choose to jazz up your cake).

Divide the batter between to greased, 9-inch-round cake pans. Bake at 350 degrees for 20-25 minutes or until center tests clean.

to prepare the filling:

While the cakes are cooling (in pan for about 10 minutes, then on a rack), prepare the filling. Note that the measurements I give above are for a half recipe because I only wanted to put frosting in between my layers, not on top. Feel free to double it if you want to fully frost your cake.

Cream the butter and half the powdered sugar. Alternate between adding the milk and the rest of the sugar, mixing well. Add the ginger by halves, to taste.

When the cakes are completely cool, frost the top of one half and flip the other on top.

Turn That Frown Upside-Down

Hello loyal fans and detractors!

I noticed, while reading some old posts, that it's been a while since I had an epic failure in the kitchen. On the one hand, Yay! I must be getting better! But on the other hand, Boo. Where's the entertainment value in writing about how great things are going? I suppose a blog, by nature, is mostly self-congratulatory but I'm most in my element when I'm being self-depreciating. It's a fairly effective way to maintain the appearance of modesty and humility in the face of recurring triumphs. It also keeps the students laughing (and hopefully, the blog-followers reading).

So. While losing the AFM's "Squash It!" contest helped some, that wasn't a personal failure so much as it was the indifference of cheese-aholic judges. Thus, to bolster my 'aw shucks' persona, I present for you the previous week's moderately disasterous attempt at an upside-down cake. Here's how it happened:

My mom sent down for me a bushel of tiny, home-grown pears. My high school teachers have been giving me produce for decades since I was the only vegan they knew. Even though I've moved away, my mom is still the recipient of their garden largess - this time 2 dozen of the sweetest pears I've even eaten. When those pears started to attract the beefed up fruit flies that live in my kitchen, it was time to bring on the baked goods.

Now, my only prior upside-down cake experience has been avoiding those made with pineapple. Pineapple upside-down cakes have a "nursing home" aura about them. They smell of heavy syrup and desperate resignation. Also - they look disgusting. Maraschino cherries fill me a diffuse, stormy (and, admittably illogical) rage. But I like the concept of fresh fruit on top of cake. And so my misadventure began.

Step one: Do not cut yourself while trying to peel and core the pears. This leads to blood in your brown sugar glaze. Just leave the peels on. People who won't eat fruit that isn't peeled shouldn't be offered dessert anyway.

Step two: Even though you have a bag full of orange slices leftover from last weekend's round of cinnamon tequila shots, it is not advisable to zest these. Zesting already-cut oranges will send an excruciating amount of juice and citric acid into your cut finger, dribbling down your arm and onto the rug. On the plus side, your kitchen will smell zesty fresh.

Step three: Remember that when you are melting butter in the glass dish, the dish will also get hot. Though, forgetting this will result in cauterizing the aforementioned cut, it also means you will dump half a stick of melted butter into the bottom of your oven.

Step four: Make sure you have all the ingredients necessary to make your cake. It can be very disheartening when you reach for your Tupperware container marked "white flower" (yes, I misspelled 'flour' when I initially made the label) and it is empty. Using all wheat flour isn't a huge set-back but it does change the consistency of the batter.

Step five: Stretch properly before attempting to flip hot cake out of the pan and onto a serving tray. If you are, like I was, attempting to use a serving tray that is significantly larger than the cake pan, it will require a kind of kitchen contortionism that can easily lead to singed forearms and a spilled cake that is less 'upside-down' than 'dumped onto a plate.'

Accidentally Wheat Fresh Pear Dump Cake

3-4 fresh pears, halved & cored

3/4 cup butter

1/4 cup brown sugar

1 cup white sugar

1 eggs worth of Ener-G egg replacer

1 teaspoon orange zest

1 teaspoon vanilla

2 teaspoons baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 2/3 cup flour

1/2 cup soymilk

Place 1/4 cup of butter in a 8x8 glass pan. Place pan in the oven to melt the butter as the oven is preheating to 350 degrees or so.

Cream the rest of the butter with the white sugar, vanilla, orange zest, and egg replacer mix. Set aside.

When the oven butter is melted, sprinkle the brown sugar over it and place the pears in the dish, cut side down. Set aside.

Blend the baking powder and salt into the butter-egg mixture. Alternate adding the flour and milk until completely smooth and blended.

Pour the mixture over the pears in the dish. Bake for 40 minutes or so.

Invert onto a serving dish. Scrape out any cake parts that stayed stuck inside the pan (because you didn't really have hands large enough to invert a scalding hot glass dish onto a plate) and rebuild the corners and sides into something resembling a square cake.

You should eat this cake within a week. Even keeping it in the fridge won't make it last much longer than that. If you don't mind moldy pears on your cake (and I certainly don't) then it will keep for much longer.

And there you have it, kids. A sweet & wheaty cake and a little bit of my failure.

I hope you enjoy them both.

And The Winner Is...

...not me!!!


This weekend was the 2nd Annual Athens' Farmers' Market "Squash It!" Cooking Contest. In an attempt to get over my fear/phobic inability to try things at which my success is not guaranteed, I decided to enter.


As far as first cooking contests go, it was pretty fun. I like the idea of cooking for unknown diners. It gives the time I spend in the kitchen prepping everything an exiting immediacy. It raised money for the "Friends of the AFM," and since the squash had to be bought at the market, it also helped out the local growers. Once at the judging tent, I enjoyed seeing the different entries (though everyone's 'go-to' squash recipe seemed simply to be covering said squash with cheese and bread crumbs and baking it - or some variation thereof).

I, however, wanted to make something with squash as the dominant flavor rather than a filler for something else. I think I came up with a delicious little soup (though the judges begged to differ). All asterisked ingredients were bought at the AFM.

No-Prize Winning Spicy Butternut Soup with Roasted Red Pepper Cream

for the soup:
3-4 cups butternut squash, peeled and chopped**
2 tablespoons safflower oil
1 large onion, chopped
1 jalapeno, seeded and chopped**
2 large garlic cloves, minced (I pulled out all the stops this time and used real garlic!)**
2 teaspoons cumin
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon chipotle chili powder
1 1/2 granny smith apples, cored and chopped
2 carrots, sliced
3 celery stalks, chopped
4 cups vegetable stock
finely chopped flat-leaf parsley, for garnish**

for the cream:
1 vacuum-packed box of extra firm tofu (I used Mori-Nu)
1 teaspoon paprika
3/4 teaspoon sea salt
1 large red pepper, roasted**

to prepare:
Turn the oven on to broil. Wash the red pepper well and place on a cookie sheet under the broiler. Turn often until the pepper is blackened all the way around. Remove from the over and place in an air tight container for about 15 minutes to continue steaming.
While the pepper is broiling and steaming, chop the onion, garlic, and jalapeno and set aside. Chop the squash, carrots, apples, and celery and set aside. Heat the oil in a large pot. Add the onion, garlic, and jalapeno. Saute until the onion is soft.
Add the apples, squash, carrots, celery, and broth to the pot. Bring to a rolling boil then reduce heat to a simmer for 20-25 minutes or until all the veggies are soft.
While the soup is simmering, remove the skin, stem, and seeds from the roasted pepper. Place the cleaned pepper, the tofu, paprika, and salt into the blender and mid on high until smooth. Set aside in a separate bowl and rinse the blender.
When the soup is done, transfer in batches to the rinsed blender. Blend well and return to the pot over low heat.
Serve in bowls with a dollop of cream and a sprinkle of the parsley.

Roomie loved this soup, but he predicted I wouldn't win. "It's too spicy to win," he guessed. And for as warm a day as Saturday was, he was probably right. This soup has a great kick to it and would be better served in early winter rather than late summer. Maybe serve it in bread bowls so there's plenty of starch to balance the heat. You could probably cut the amount of jalapeno or chipotle to temper the spice too.

Despite not winning, I took consolation in the fact that mine was the only vegan entry and the first soup to be finished by the public taste-testers. Both the other soups had chicken stock as the base, one with cheddar and one with creme fraiche. I had to laugh when a taster asked if the other soups were veg-friendly and the guy next to me said, "yeah it only has a little chicken stock in it."

My final judgment: I failed at my first cooking contest but I still like them. I think I'll keep at it until I have a couple of ribbons. If at first you don't succeed, cook, cook some more.

Kitchen Harlotry

Prostitution has always been a pet interest of mine.


Vivian Ward, Fancy, Ophelia in Trading Places; I've written a seminar paper on The French Lieutenant's Woman, one on the archetype of the "fallen woman" in Victorian Literature, one on Mukherjee's Jasmine...hell, I'm Catholic! We get a whore built right into the Easter story! I just find the whole stereotypical "mother-madonna-whore" triptych fascinating.


Especially the whore part.


So how delighted was I to learn that the puttanesca sauce I decided to put my vegan spin on is literally, Italian for 'whore's sauce!?'


Delighted like the only whore in town on payday, that's how much.


But on what to put my slutty sauce?


Open the cupboards and there was the box of strange, off-brand orzo from Odd Lots that had been sitting way in the back of the top shelf since I had bought it with visions of orzo-and-ground-veggie-beef-stuffed green peppers dancing in my head. As with most of the visions I have of foods stuffed into other foods, the peppers never materialized. But the orzo remained. Thus was born one of the best Sunday night meals I've made in months.



One Pot Whore-Zo


1 16 oz box of orzo
4 tablespoon olive oil
1 medium onion, chopped fine
1 heaping tablespoon cheater garlic
3 1/2 cups vegetable broth
1 teaspoon (or more to taste) crushed red pepper
1 can (4 oz-ish) sliced black olives, drained
3 tablespoon capers (not too much brine)
1/2 cup fresh parsley, finely chopped
4 (at least) tomatoes, chopped (optional for topping/garnish)

Heat the olive oil in a large pot. Add the onions and sautee until soft.

Add the uncooked orzo to the onions and stir to coat. You're more or less toasting the orzo, but make sure not to burn it or let it get too stuck to the bottom of the pan. This should take between 5-10 minutes. Halfway through, add the garlic.

When the orzo is toasted add the vegetable broth to the pan and bring to a boil. Let boil for about a minute or so and then reduce heat to a simmer, stirring occasionally. The orzo is going to absorb the broth (like rice) but it's also going to get very creamy because the starch molecules from the pasta are not getting washed off or rinsed away in cooking water. If it seems like all the broth is absorbed but the orzo is still too chewy, just add more broth and cook a few more minutes.

When the orzo is full cooked (it should have a thick, oatmeal-like consistency), add the red pepper flakes and stir. Add the capers and olives and the parsley. Stir to evenly distribute.

Serve topped with the chopped fresh tomatoes (and maybe a grating or two of fresh parmesean if you swing that way). Ecco la buona cucina!

Just don't forget to leave some money on the dresser when you're done.

Those Who Can, Do

Those who can't, teach.

And those who don't really want to do anything remotely resembling real adult life just yet, adjunct a night class or two at their grad school alma mater.


What can I say? If refusing to get a job that I can't schedule around my running, cycling, yoga-ing, swimming, lifting, spinning, and cooking schedule is wrong, then I don't wanna be right.


Still, the start of fall quarter is always busy. Roomie is back in classes, back to coaching, back to competitive rowing training full-time. And even though teaching isn't the center of my world, I'm still spending a lot of time planning/prepping for my classes.

Knowing that this hustle-bustle was approaching, I spent Labor Day turning the last of the mouldering, fresh fruit in my fridge into something resembling edible baked goods. And, if I may be so bold, they turned out pretty damned good.


Forever Young Tropical Fruit Bread
"when the fruit has matured, but you refuse to"


1 cup whole wheat flour
1/2 cup almond flour
2 tbs wheat germ
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp sea salt
1 tsp cinnamon
1/3 cup vegan butter, very soft
2/3 cup brown sugar, loosely packed
1 tsp vanilla
2 tbs flax seed meal mixed in 6 tbs warm water (equivalent of 2 eggs)
1 cup very ripe, very black-skinned, very mashed bananas
1 very ripe mango, chopped
1 tbs pineapple juice


Sift together the flours, wheat germ, baking powder, salt, and cinnamon in a large bowl. Set aside.
Place the chopped mango in a bowl and cover with the pineapple juice. Set aside.
Cream together the butter and sugar until smooth. Add the vanilla and flax seed mixture and mix well.
Slowly add the flour mixture to the butter and sugar, mixing well.
Add the bananas and mangos and mix thouroughly.
Pour the mix into a greased loaf pan and bake at 350ish degrees for about 45-50 minutes depending on your oven's temperment.


This bread is so sweet and soft it's practically a cake. If you made it with white flour instead of wheat it probably would be. Add a glass of hot dandelion root tea and a stack of student response papers and you've got yourself a fairly decent Tuesday night.

Sugar-Coated Berry Cakes
"like how adjunct actually means bitch...you know, sugar-coated"

1 1/4 cup white flour
1/2 cup sugar
1 1/4 tsp baking powder
1/8 tsp salt
1/2 cup soy milk
1/2 tbs lemon juice
1 egg worth Ener-G egg replacer
1/2 stick vegan butter, melted
1 1/2 cup fresh blueberries and on-the-verge-of-spoiling strawberries
1/2 tsp orange zest (optional, but worth the effort)
1/2 cup or more of raw sugar (for sprinkling)

Mix the milk and lemon juice together and set aside for at least 3 minutes (this makes buttermilk).
Sift together the dry ingredients in a large bowl. Set aside.
Mix the Ener-G, butter, zest, and milk. Add to the dry ingredients and mix well.
Fold in the fruits, distributing evenly throughout the batter.
Pour the batter into a greased or paper-lined muffin tin, filling the cups about halfway. Sprinkle the tops with raw sugar and bake at 400 degrees for about 15-18 minutes.

Tops all crinkly and sugary, insides hot and fruity...there's nothing not to love. Serve these warm with a cold glass of milk (Roomie's partial to chocolate) and you can face even the most dead-eyed class of freshman.

And continue to refuse to grow up.