The Girl With The Most Cake

I walked into my office the other day at the tail end of a conversation between my friends JenC and Mrs. L. JenC was feeling guilty about having to tell the bosses of her various part-time jobs that she wouldn't be able to work any more than she already was.

"It is difficult being an artist with a part-time job," she explained. "Everyone seems to assume that since the artist's real work (writing/creating/composing) isn't a 9-to-5 thing, they will be available to work whenever and for however long." I was inclined to agree. When I worked at the liquor store, it seemed as though I was always the first one contacted when someone else called off or couldn't work.


"Still doesn't make it any easier to say no," replied Mrs. L.

"And speaking of guilt and saying no," I interjected, "the peices of cake currently sitting on your desks are the product of a particularly stressfull weekend, most of which could have been avoided had I just said no."


I won't bore you with the details, friends and enemies. Let's just say my cousin, The Wild Child, came to visit for the mud-soaked, drunken debacle that is 7fest; and instead of two teenaged girls spending the night in my apartment, I had five, all of whom were spoiled, entitled, loud-mouthed, well, for lack of a better word, bitches.


A direct quote from the morning after? "Sorry we f*cked your shit up last night." Oh, well, that completely makes up for the fact that I spent 6 hours Sunday scrubbing the muck and make-up residue from my bathroom, vacuuming up so much mud from the carpets Roomie had to take apart and clean the vacuum, emptying beer cans, and doing loads of muddy towels, sheets, and blankets.


To relieve the stress all this caused me, I baked the following cakes. According to JenC, the first one was more than enough to ease her guilt over not working overtime. The second one definitely helped me forget most of the weekend and my cousin's reprehensible behavior.

Banana Cake with Pineapple-Buttercream Frosting
“The Guilt-i-nator”

for the cake
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
¼ teaspoon of salt
1 stick (1/2 cup) vegan margarine
¼ cup vegan shortening
1 ½ cups sugar
3 very ripe bananas, smashed (about 1 cup)
½ cup unsweetened soy milk
2 eggs worth of Ener-G egg replacer
1 teaspoon vanilla

Pre-heat the oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour 2, 9-inch round cakes pans.
In a medium bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Set aside.
Using a mixer, cream the butter, shortening, and sugar together in a large bowl. Add the bananas, egg replacer, milk, and vanilla. Beat at a medium speed until well-mixed and creamy.
With the mixer at low speed, add the dry ingredients to the wet in thirds, slowly increasing the mixer speed to high. Beat until very smooth and well-combined.
Divide the batter between the two greased pans. Give each one a few hard taps on the countertop to get rid of any bubbles.
Bake for about 20 minutes or until a knife stuck in the middle comes out clean. Let the cakes cool in the pans for about 10 minutes before turning out onto a rack. Let cool completely before frosting

for the frosting
1 stick vegan margarine (1/2 cup)
4 cups powdered sugar
1/3ish cups of fresh pineapple, pureed until very liquidy
½ teaspoon vanilla
yellow food coloring (optional)

Using the whisk attachment of a hand mixer, cream together the butter, vanilla, and two cups of powdered sugar.
Alternate adding the pineapple puree in thirds and the remaining powdered sugar. Don’t add too much pineapple or the frosting will be too liquidy.
Whisk in drops of yellow food coloring until the frosting is bright and pineapple-colored.
When the cakes are completely cool, smear a thick layer of the frosting on top of one of the layers. Place the other layer on top, and frost completely with an off-set spatula or knife.

Double-Chocolate-Blueberry Bundt Cake with Chocolate Ganache Frosting
“The Guilt Killer”

for the cake
2 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped
¾ cup canola oil
1 cup sugar
¼ cup soy yogurt
1 tablespoon ground flaxseeds
2 cups all-purpose flour
½ cup cocoa powder
1 tablespoon baking soda
¾ teaspoon salt
1 cup fresh blueberry puree (from about 1 ½ cups blueberries)
1 cup vegan “buttermilk” (see note)

for ganache
3 ounces bittersweet chocolate chopped
1/3 cup vegan “heavy cream” (see note)
½ tablespoon corn syrup
½ tablespoon vegan butter

Note: To make vegan buttermilk: Place 1 tablespoon of apple cider vinegar in the bottom of a one-cup measuring cup. Fill the rest of the way with full-fat soy or almond milk (do not use rice milk or low-fat milks; neither curdle right). Let the milk sit while you prepare the rest of the recipe, then use as you would traditional buttermilk.To make vegan heavy cream: Combine plain soy yogurt and full-fat soy/almond milk (at about a 2 to 1 ratio) until the mixture reaches the consistency of heavy cream. Between the cake and the ganache, this recipe uses one small (6 ounce) container of soy yogurt.

to prepare the cake
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Grease a 12-cup Bundt pan with canola or vegetable oil spray and set aside.
In a small saucepan, melt the 2 ounces of chocolate over a larger pot of boiling water (or use a double boiler. Let cool slightly.
In a large bowl, whisk together the oil, sugar, yogurt, and flax seeds until smooth. Add the cooled chocolate and whisk well. Set aside.
In a small bowl, sift together the flour, cocoa powder, baking soda, and salt. Alternate adding the dry ingredients, the blueberry puree, and the prepared buttermilk to the chocolate mixture. Whisk until very smooth and combined.
Pour the cake batter into the Bundt pan and bake on the lower rack of the oven for about 40 minutes. A knife inserted in the center of the cake should come out clean but not dry. Don’t over cook or the cake will be too dry and burny.
Let the cake cook in the pan for about 10 minutes. Turn out onto a wire rack and allow to cool completely before frosting.

to prepare the ganache
In a glass Pyrex cup (or other heat-proof dish) mix the chopped chocolate, corn syrup, and butter. Set aside.
In a small sauce pan bring the heavy cream to a boil (don’t let it boil too long or it will scorch).
Pour the boiling cream over the chocolate mixture. Cover with a dish towel or small plate and let sit for about 5-7 minutes or until all the chocolate has melted. Whisk briskly until smooth.
When the ganache has cooled slightly, pour over the cooled cake, using an offset spatula to help it drizzle down the sides. Let the frosted cake stand at least 30 minutes for the ganache to set before serving.

***

Neither of these cakes lasted long enough in my apartment to get photographed so you’ll just have to take my word that they were both as gorgeous as they were delicious.

And getting rid of the guilty feelings?

Piece of cake.

Aquaphiliac

I am currently training to be a lifeguard. It was about time really. I was in swimming lessons or on a swim team almost every summer for the first 13 years of my life. I currently swim laps 3 times a week, sometimes as much as 2.5 miles a day. I love the water. Under it, through it, laying out next to it; I don't think I could be happy if I didn't live near some kind of large body of water.

So when I came home from my first lifeguarding class Saturday night, hungry and tired from a 12 hour day of first-aid/CPR training and rescuing passive victims from the bottom of the deep end, I appropriately chose a seafood-based dish to veganize.

The original dish was sauteed octopus served with fermented black bean sauce and miso vinaigrette. Even if I wasn't a vegan I don't think I'd keep octopus on hand, nor do I live near enough to the creepy Chinese groceries with the skinned rabbits in the windows to acquire fermented black bean paste on a whim. But the flavor combinations in this recipe were just too good not to experiment with. And so, despite the fact it was 10 o'clock at night and I was covered in chlorine and bruised from being backboarded, I fired up the burners and whipped up this delicious meal.

Mocktopus Wild Rice Salad with Black Bean Pear Sauce and Miso Vinaigrette

from Food&Wine, January 2010

for the rice (note: cook each type of rice separately)

1 cup wild rice, cooked according to package directions

1 cup jasmine rice, cooked according to package directions

for the Black Bean Pear Sauce

1/2 cup vegetable oil

1 can black beans, drained and rinsed

3 cloves of garlic, minced

1 tablespoon minced fresh ginger

2 shallots, chopped fine

1 cup finely chopped red bell pepper

1/2 a jalapeno, seeded and minced

1 cup pears, peeled and chopped

the juice from 1 lemon

2 green onions, green parts only, minced

for the miso vinaigrette

1 tablespoon miso (I had mild red in the fridge; the original calls for white)

3 tablespoons balsamic vinegar

2 tablespoons vegetable oil

2 tablespoons room temperature water

sea salt & fresh ground pepper (1/8 teaspoon-ish or to taste)

to prepare

In a medium sauce pan, heat the oil over medium-high heat. Add the beans and cook for about 3-4 minutes.

Add the garlic, ginger, and shallot and cook for another 5 minutes or until the shallots are soft and translucent. You may want to add a little water and/or oil here if the beans are starting to stick too much to the bottom of the pan.

Add the bell pepper and jalapeno and cook until just starting to soften.

Stir in the pear and give the whole thing a few really good, mashing stirs to break up the pears and the beans a bit. The sauce is going to be a bit pink-ish and about the consistency of guacamole.

Turn off the heat and squeeze in the lemon juice. Stir in the green onions and cover. Let sit while you make the vinaigrette.

to make the miso vinaigrette

In a small bowl combine all the ingredients except the salt and pepper and whisk with vigor. Taste and season appropriately. This could be made up to 3 days or so ahead of time; just be sure to bring it back to room temp before serving.

***

To serve this, I chopped fresh spinach into ribbons, mandolined a large carrot into discs, and striped them on a large dinner plate. Using an ice cream scoop, I placed the rice (two wild scoops, one jasmine) on the carrot stripe. I spooned the black bean sauce over the rice, then perpendicularly drizzled the miso over the spinach and rice.

The above recipe made about enough to plate like this 4 times (depending on the size of your scoop). Since I was only feeding myself (yes, I plate this extensively when I'm eating all alone in my apartment. It's better than 30 cats and stacks of newspapers), I had plenty of leftovers for the next week. Suggestion? Cut up a few plum tomatoes, mix with the cold, leftover bean sauce and serve with tortilla chips and a cold one.

The perfect short-cut dinner for that night when, even though Sex Week went so well and you were sure you'd turned a corner and connected with your students, even the usually-participatory students are sitting there with their arms crossed over their chests refusing to talk, and the others are practically glaring while theatrically checking the time on their ubiquitous cell phones.

Week 5 here I come.

How Green Was My Dinner?

Those of you who know me (or who have taken the time to read all the way down to the "About Me" section of my FB profile) know that my favorite color is green.

It also ended up being, quite accidentally, the unofficial theme of Spring Quarter: Week 2's menu. I didn't do much cooking last week (there's only so long one can stretch out Syllabus Day before the actual teaching has to start) but I managed to make a couple of very nice dinners.

I also had a gloriously shining moment of sheer genius.

Yes, those are rubber bands holding a cooking magazine to the cupboard door above my sink. Yes, it freed up precious and much-needed counter space. Yes, I made Roomie get up off the couch to come bask in my amazing cleverness. Yes, I'm sure someone has already done/invented this. No, I don't care.

The first dinner of the week was adapted from the back of a Hodgson Mill spaghetti box. It was originally called "Winter Green Pasta" but this made me think about toothpaste and gum, and what pasta might taste like so-flavored. Highly unappetizing.

Not-Mint Pasta

1 pound spinach spaghetti (or other long pasta)

3 tablespoons vegetable oil

1 teaspoon fresh grated ginger

2 green onions, green and white parts, chopped

2 celery stalks, chopped

1/2 teaspoon salt

3/4 cup vegetable broth

1 pound fresh spinach, sliced in ribbons

2 tablespoons cornstarch, mixed into 1/4 cup cold water

Cook the pasta according to the package directions.

While the pasta is cooking, heat the oil in a large skillet or frying pan. Add the ginger, onions, and celery. Cook over medium heat until just beginning to soften. Don't brown. Add the salt, broth, and spinach. Bring to a boil, cover, and reduce heat to low. Cook for 10-15 minutes or until all the veg is cooked to your liking. Stir in the cornstarch-water mixture. Cook until the mix is hot again (don't boil or the cornstarch will get all clumpy-thick).

Drain the cooked pasta and return to the pot. Pour the veggie mix in and stir well to coat. Serve with more cooked veg (or dump a can of tuna on top like Roomie did).

***

The next dinner was more prep-intensive, but since this was my Sunday Supper, I didn't mind spending an extra couple of hours in the kitchen. Next time I'll probably make some of the pieces parts ahead of time just to have on hand.

What took a bit of time was my first-time experimentation with steaming some artichokes. I brought about 3-4 inches of water, a quarter of a lemon (squeezed into the pot, then tossed in), bay leaf, 2 crushed garlic cloves, and 1/4 cup white wine to a boil in a medium sauce pan. Then I just put the artichokes in, covered, and let steam the 45-60 minutes I was making the rest of the dinner. They turned out pretty good served with the following dipping sauce (and now I have two artichoke hearts to turn into something else delicious!)

Quick & Tangy Dipping Sauce

3/4 - 1 cup vegan mayo (regular or fat-free)

1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar

3-4 basil leaves, chopped very fine

1 teaspoon cheater garlic

1 teaspoon vegan parmesan cheese or nutritional yeast (optional)

salt & black pepper to taste

Whisk everything but the salt and pepper together in a small bowl. Taste, season, whisk again, and serve.

The main dish was a variation on a broccoli recipe from the April 2010 issue of Vegetarian Times. It's a broccoli pesto that contains no basil. Weird, huh? But since technically the word pesto is Italian for "pounded" (by way of the Latin "pistare" ie: mortar & pestle), I guess it really doesn't matter what you're pounding as long as it turns into sauce you serve over pasta.

Bresto Orrecchiette

sounds fancy, don't it?

1/2 cup raw, slivered almonds

2 cups broccoli florets

1 1/2 cups loosely packed flat-leaf/Italian parsley

1/4 cup olive oil

1/2 cup mint leaves

4 teaspoons lemon juice

grated zest from 1 small lemon

5 big garlic cloves

drained capers (for serving)

16 oz. orrecchiette pasta (or some other little pasta shape (farfalle, gemelli, conchiglie) that will hold up to a nice thick sauce)

Steam the broccoli in a pot of boiling water for about 3 minutes or until just soft and bright green. Rinse under cold water, drain, and set aside.

In a food processor or blender, pulse the almonds, parsley, mint, garlic, and lemon zest. Note that if you are using a blender, it will help if you chop up the garlic and herbs first.

Add the broccoli and lemon juice and pulse/blend again, scraping the sides as needed.

With the blender/food processor running on low-medium, slowly add the oil. Blend until the mixture is smooth but not liquid-y. You may need to add a little warm water if it seems like it's getting to thick, especially if you're using a blender.

(You could stop right here and just stick the bresto in the fridge for a couple days. Return to room temperature before mixing with the pasta, though.)

Boil the pasta according to package instructions (don't overcook!). Drain and return to the pot. Add the bresto and stir well to coat. Scoop into shallow bowls and top with as many capers as you like. If you don't like capers, you may want to throw a teaspoon or so of sea salt into the bresto.

***

I'll warn you now, friends and enemies, there's a good chance I won't be cooking anything during Week Three. I have my first round of response papers to grade, Roomie's first big away regatta is coming up, my first lifeguard course is this weekend, my cousin The Wild Child is coming for an OU street Fest....

...actually, I'll probably need to cook, just to stay sane.

The Veganification! Begins

Hi and welcome, friends and enemies, to the first of an every-now-and-then sub-series, new to my blog in 2010: The Veganification!


That's right, I said The Veganification!


What is The Veganification! you might be wondering? And why should you care? All good questions. Here are the answers.


Because I had very little "serious" reading to do over Winter Break, and because I am easily distracted by shiny things, I bought and read a good number of glossy-covered, mainstream cooking magazines this winter. Gourmet, Imbibe, Bon Apetit, Martha Stewart's Living, Food+Wine (the latter two my mom gets in the mail) etc. It was so refreshing to read magazines that are written and published by people really truly exited by food and eating, and not trying to push some sort of socio-political agenda. No space wasted talking about which company is poking rabbits and pigs in inappropriate ways, or snarky op-ed pieces about feeling smug at the family Christmas dinner table. Just entertaining articles about trends in food, cooking, spirits, and mixology that focus on taste and presentation rather than morals. I'm far more interested in the bottle vs. can debate in the world of beer than I am in tofu vs. tempeh arguments.

As such, I'm letting my VegNews subscription expire and getting Bon Apetit and Gourmet instead. And (one of) my New Year's Resolutions is to veganify at least one recipe from all of these non-veg magazines a month. And I don't mean just swapping out real dairy for the soy-based stuff. I'm talking about not being daunted by a recipe with great flavor potential just because the main ingredient is meat. Or a good dessert that relies on heavy cream and egg whites. Moroccan Beef Tagine? Poblano Albondingos? Sour-Orange Yucatan Chickens? Shitake-and-Scallion Shrimp Lo-Mein? Apricot & Basil Shortbread? Coconut Cake with Chocolate Chunks? Chocolate-Nut Tart with Dried Fruit & Clotted Cream?



Bring it on.



So, here is the first veganified meal of 2010. I decided to try this sauce first, as my mother was making veal meatballs (I don't care how vegan I get, I will always love the smell of cooking veal) and this dish originally called for veal shoulders. It's a "notable dark and glossy ragout, the constituents of which**" are as follows:




Not-Veal Pasta Sauce
from Food+Wine, October 2009


1/4 cup olive oil
1 large onion, chopped
4-5 garlic cloves, minced
1 1/2 teaspoons ground coriander
1 1/2 teaspoons ground fennel (I ground whole seeds)
1 1/2 cups dry red wine (I used Terra d'Oro 2005 Amador Zinfandel)
Two 28-ounce cans Italian whole tomatoes, drained and chopped (see note)
4 cups vegetable puree/stock (see note)
1 1/2 tablespoons minced rosemary


Note: Even if you can't find the whole Italian-style tomatoes (I found mine in the specialty-foods section of Kroger), make the effort to drain and chop whole regular tomatoes. There's too much liquid in the pre-chopped ones and this is a thick sauce. For the vegetable stock, I used my mom's new immersion blender to blend leftover vegetable soup. This resulted in a creamy vegetable puree rather than a traditional stock. Since there isn't any meat in this recipe to absorb extra liquid, I think this helped thicken the sauce. If you use broth, you may want to boil the sauce a little longer to reduce it. Maybe disolve some cornstarch in the broth before adding it to the mix. Or just make some soup and puree it.


In a large soup pot or casserole dish, heat the oil over medium heat.
Add the onions, garlic, fennel, coriander, and cook over medium-low heat for 5 minutes or until the onions are translucent.
Add the wine and bring the mixture to a boil. Continue to boil until reduced to 1/3 cup. This should take 5-8 minutes.
Add the tomatoes and cook for another 5 minutes over medium high heat.
Add the veggie puree and rosemary. Return to a boil. Let boil for about ten minutes or until the sauce reduces a little more.
Reduce heat to low, partially cover the pot and simmer for about 20 minutes.


Serve the sauce over a hearty pasta (rigatoni, fettucini, pappardelle) with a big room temp glass of Remirez de Ganuza 2001 Rioja, one of the best reds I've had in a long time and totally worth the price. It's strong enough to hold up against the spice of the sauce, but not in an over-powering way.


And since the non-veggies in the house all went back for seconds, I consider The Veganification! a resounding success.


**Bonus The Veganification! points if you can place the quote. Trade them in for cool The Veganification!! merchandise, homemade veganified snacks and my continued admiration!!**

Things Remembered, Cheesecake Forgotten

I am reminded whenever I visit my cousins, J and The Demon Baby, of a bit of a rant I went on once in a seminar paper. Not about my toddler relations, but about the way digital photography is changing the way we experience/remember things. It's a strange thing that we can immediately view our experiences, assign a value judgement, and (if necessary) completely re-stage the moment. There's hardly such a thing as candid photography anymore. It's all performative. My cousins are a perfect example of this. Their first question after having their picture taken is, "can I see? can I see?" Despite having actually lived whatever it was being photographed only moments before, they want to see it again, and usually re-do it. It's kind of a bummer that J & TDB won't ever know the excitement of picking up developed photographs, laughing at crappy photos, or having something physical to hold while remembering.

However, it's hard to completely dislike the ubiquity of digital cameras when Roomie's new BlackBerry made it much possible to capture a moment like this for posterity.



So is it any wonder - with every little thing being recorded and the necessity to actually remember things waning - that I began soaking nuts for a raw cheesecake on the Solstice, forgot about them; used the nuts to make the components of a raw, vegan cheesecake on Christmas Eve then forgot to put it together until Christmas Day; forgot that I had it in the freezer until New Year's Eve, and then forgot to eat it until just tonight?
Obviously I'm going to have to start videoing everything I do. Desserts are at stake here, kids!! Desserts!!
Picture-Perfect Forgotten Cheesecake(adapted from the December 2009 issue of Vegetarian Times)

for the crust:1 cup raw cashews
1 cup raw walnuts
1/4 cup raisins
for the topping:
2 cups raw cashews, soaked 3+ hours
1/4 cup raw honey
1/4 cup apple cider/juice
1/2 cup lemon juice (Note that unless you fresh-squeeze the juices, this dish is "technically" not raw. Check the label to see if the juice is cold-pressed. Either way it'll still be vegan.)
1/4 cup raw coconut oil (plus a bit extra for greasing the dish)
1 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 teaspoon salt
to make:In a blender or food processor, chop the walnuts, un-soaked cashews, and raisins until the mixture begins to stick together. You might need to scrape the sides once or twice.
Press the mixture into a 9x9 glass baking dish, greased with coconut oil. Chill 30 minutes or overnight.
Drain the soaked cashews and with the rest of the topping ingredients, puree in the blender until smooth. Add up to 3 tablespoons of warm water to facilitate blending. Chill overnight (though, if you don't forget about it, you can spoon it on top of the chilled crust right away).
Once the cheesecake is put together, freeze for at least an hour before serving. Thaw for about 5 minutes, then slice and top with fresh berries, chocolate syrup, or whatever else might strike your fancy.
The best part? Since this is stored in the freezer, there's little chance of spoiling. You can forget about it for a week and still go back for another picture-perfect slice. Also good? It's raw and vegan. So you can "forget" about your New Year's Resolution to cut back on the desserts with little to no guilt.
Just remember to spend a few extra minutes on the treadmil/in the pool/on your yoga mat in the morning.

After all, there are cameras everywhere...

Howl at the Moon

So, apparently, there was a blue moon this past New Year's Eve. According to Wikipedia (how did I know anything about anything before Wikipedia?) a blue moon can be one of several things, but more or less it refers to the 13th moon of a calendar year. Such a thing happens once in a while (once in a blue moon, if you will), since the solar year is eleven days longer than the lunar one.

What does this mean to you and me? Well, I'll tell you what it means, it means that there is one extra night of the year to be plagued by werewolves! Werewolves! Half-man, half-wolf (and half baby-faced angst machine if the movies are any indication). Werewolves are one of my favorite scary-movie monsters. I like the pervasiveness of the figure in almost every cultures' mythology. Shape-shifting, being able to act on animal instincts - I mean, what's not to like?

Though you may have known the fun facts mentioned above, what you may not know, friends & enemies, is that I am in the middle of writing a werewolf-themed novel. True story! Though you'll have to buy the hopefully-to-be-published-someday book to get all the juicy details, the gist of it is: an ex-cop-turned-veterinarian finds a werewolf one night and hijinks ensue. Awesome, right? Totally awesome.

So when I was brainstorming with my mom for ways to decorate the "Strawberry Shortbread Icicle" (a recipe I texted myself from the December 2009 issue of Better Homes & Garden while sitting in the dental hygenist's office), a cookie I was planning to veganize, and she suggested the silver-coated, hard-spun-sugar ballbearings, well, you can imagine my delight. I wasn't just baking. I was making Edible Werewolf Protection or EWP (patent pending)!!

There was just one problem, friends & enemies. Some states (California, for one) have prohibited the sale of these "dragees" citing dangerous levels of toxic metals. Seriously. Read the article and weep for the loss of both an important part of my childhood and a Christmas free of werewolves.

So if you don't happen to have a 20-year-old container of "Wilton's 100% Real Silver Dragees" hiding in your mother's basement, you'll have to find a black market dragee-dealer to run you some in from France (or possibly just order some on them Internets).

Dr. M's Guarantee-Pending, Anti-Werewolf Spearpoints & Throwing Stars

1 cup soy margarine, softened

1/2 cup sugar

1/4 cup strawberry preserves

1 teaspoon vanilla

1/2 teaspoon ground pink peppercorns (see note)

2 2/3 cup white flour

Note: Pink peppercorns are not readily available in grocery stores. I found mine at Williams-Sonoma. They are also available through mail-order specialty-food stores like Dean&Deluca and probably Whole Foods, too. Flavor-wise, they're optional, but visually, pink peppercorns look just awesome. And I'm assuming werewolves don't like pepper anymore than my dog does.

Cream the butter and sugar together in a stand mixer. Add the preserves, pepper, and vanilla. Beat at a medium-high speed until all combined. Add the flour 1 cup or so at a time until the mix is dough. Chill for about half-hour, or until ready to roll.

Preheat the oven to 300 degrees. Roll the dough out to 1/4 inch thick. Using tart pans of varying sizes (I had a 4-inch one and a 9-inch one) cut out large circles of dough. Transfer to cookie sheets lined with parchment paper. Using a pizza cutter (or a fluted ravioli cutter), slice the larger circles into spearpoints. Don't separate. Using a star-shaped cookie cutter, make shurikens and place on seperate parchment-paper-lined cookie sheets. (Note: a single recipe of this dough makes about 4, 4-inch rounds; 1, 9-inch round; and a half-dozen or so throwing-stars). Brush the tops of the spearpoints and shurikens with rice milk and sprinkle with silver sugar crystals (my mom has a fairly stocked pantry as far as fighting mythical beasts go) and press silver dragees into the tips. Bake the cookies/weapons against the dark for 16 - 20 minutes. When the spearpoints come out, re-slice through them with the pizza/ravioli cutter to separate again. Let sit on the trays for 5 minutes before removing to wire racks to cool completely.

***

Now, although I can't be positive, I'm pretty sure it was the plate full of spearpoints and throwing stars that allowed me celebrate New Year's Eve without any werewolf interference. I'll be able to say either way with more certainty when I make these again on the next full moon (January 20). Even without a guarantee, please, fans and detractors, feel free to whip up a batch in your neck of the woods and let me know how they work.

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.

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.

It's A Bird...It's A Plane...

No! It's a superfood!! Able to cure cancer and diabetes in a single bound! Destroy fat! Improve moods! Orchestrate world peace!!

... ...


Ok, so that last one might not be so true; and to be honest, most of the other claims are suspect as well. Any time someone claims that a single anything (food, job, class, movie, drug) is able to change your life, it should raise some red flags. Or at least some questions.


Most lists of superfoods (Oprah's had one, Dr. Gupta had one, the AOL newsfeed had one) make me roll my eyes. "You mean whole grains are better than processed ones? No way!" "And you say that the darker the fruits and vegetables the more vitamins and minerals? Well, that's just crazy talk!" These lists invariably include blueberries and pomegranates (for their many antioxidants and phyto-whatevers); less-popular (but still delicious) grains like barley, kasha, and quinoa; dark, leafy greens like chard, spinach, and kale; and fermented foods like miso. Now, I'm not knocking the health benefits of including these foods in your diet, it's just that, as a vegan, these are the things I'm eating every day. To me a superfood should be something not necessarily available in the grocery store, maybe something you've never even heard of before, something, well, super.

Aparently, I'm not the only vegan/raw foodie who thinks like this either. Many of the magazines/websites I read distinguish between "mainstream" or "conventional" superfoods and capital-lettered, excalmation-pointed, SuperFoods!! Often I suspect this a way of maintaining exclusivity/exoticness within a lifestyle that is quickly becoming more common. A way to prove moreover one's committment to the diet. Anyone can pop into Kroger for a pint of blueberries or a bunch of chard. It takes real dedication to find a place/webstore that sells Camu or Lacuma or Yacon. Like I've said before, I'm not one to eat something just because it's good for me, but I do like to try new things.

One of the first SF's I tried was Goji Berries. Not necessarily because I believed the hype (someone living for 250 years solely based on his daily consumtion of goji berry tea is a little far-fetched, even for me); or the labels (the successful marketing campaign calling them "Himalayan" or "Tibetan" just goes to show how many hippies are still swayed by advertising - most Gojis come from China), but because I'm a sucker for dried fruit. Oh, how I love dried fruit. And the gojis do taste pretty good, though it's a difficult flavor to describe. Powdery-sweet sort of. Or like a stale (but not spoiled) cherry fruit-roll-up. If craisins taste glossy (and in my mind, they do), then goji berries taste matte. I am currently looking for my very excellent Lemon-Goji Berry Muffin recipe and I will post it as soon as I find it. From what I remember, though, it was a basic lemon muffin recipe (lemon juice, some zest, vanilla, etc.) with gojis thrown in as you would frozen blueberries. Those were pretty super muffins.

My latest SF is Maca. Like many SF's, maca comes from South America where it was cultivated by the Incas because of it's ability to grow at high altitudes. Plus, it aparently has aphrodisiacal properties. There's a legend about Incan warriors using maca to get themselves ready for battle and the townspeople having to hide all the maidens upon the warriors' return since they were still so virile and "pumped." It's like the Andean version of a baby boom. Disregarding the mythology and the hype, I really do like maca. Like the gojis, it has a difficult-to-describe taste. It's not bitter but it's not sweet either. It kind of has an earthy taste to it. Maybe like a carrot or a sweet potato - but also, nothing like either of those. Weird.

I have experimented with maca powder in several dishes (juice: blech, soups: indifferent) but have found it blends best with strong, fatty flavors. A tablespoon of maca powder with a banana-carob smoothie. A sprinkle of the powder on almond-butter-filled celery sticks. And so on.

But nothing, and I mean nothing compares to my new favorite post-workout drink. I could drink this every day for a week and not get tired of it. I found the original recipe at a SuperFoods webstore and have been tweaking it as I see fit. The closest thing I can compare it to is a Wendy's Frosty: airy, vaguely chocolately, cold and icy. Here's the basic recipe.

Macashew Frosty

1/4 - 1/2 cup raw cashews
1 heaping tablespoon maca powder
1/2 teaspoon (or more) vanilla
1 cup nutmilk/coconut water/filtered water
1/4 cup date paste or 4-5 whole dates soaked an hour or more
2 cups ice

In a blender, pulse the cashews until they are finely chopped.
Add the maca, vanilla, and half the liquid. Blend well.
Add the date paste and the remaining liquid and blend very well, scraping the sides if necessary.
Add the ice and blend on high until smooth and combined. Add a little more liquid if needed to facilitate blending.

Possible variations: 2 heaping tablespoons of raw honey instead of date paste. Use chocolate nutmilk for a more chocolately shake. Half the vanilla and add a 1/4 tsp of almond extract.

So the next time the Spanish invade your empire looking for gold and trying to convert you to Catholicism, drink up a belnderful of maca smoothie and march headfirst into the fray.

Just behave yourself around the townspeople when you return.

Eat Your Rhetoric!

Nut cheese!!

Yes, I said nut cheese.

Go ahead and snigger like a group of 15-year-old boys listening to a report on Bolivian lakes.

I'll wait.

Alright, moving ahead.


Last Tuesday night, Roomie was making penne to use up the last of the pesto. The smell of fresh pasta and cheap jar sauce filled the apartment; salty, starchy, and enticing. What's a 'girl gone raw' (patent pending) to do?

As with most of life's questions, the answer was found in vegetables. Delicious, un-cooked vegetables.

Step one: Mandolin a zucchini. Slice it in half long-ways and mandolin for wide "noodles;" slice in quarters long-ways for fetuccini-style "noodles."

Step two: Pull out your blender and whip up some nut cheese. This recipe is based off the "Middle Eastern Nut Cheese" recipe from The Raw Food Detox Diet cookbook.

Yes, I Said 'Nutcheese' Nutcheese (I think it tastes better if it's one word)

3 heaping tablespoons pine nuts
4 tablespoons macadamia nuts
4 tablespoons walnuts
2 ish tablespoons of lemon juice
a big handful of fresh parsley (stems and leaves)
1 tablespoon (more or less to taste) cheater garlic
7 sprays or Bragg's Liquid Aminos
1 teaspoon tamari
up to 1/4 cup of warm water

In a blender, pulse the nuts, parsley, and garlic. You may have to scrape the sides once or twice.
With the blender on low-medium speed, add the lemon juice, tamari and Bragg's, scraping the sides as needed.
Depending on what you'll be using the nutcheese for slowly add the water and increase the speed until the mixture is very smooth. The less water, the more spread-like the cheese. More water = salad dressing/pasta sauce.

Step 3: Toss the zucchini noodles with the cheese. Top with some vegetables (I used broccoli and cauliflower), fresh chopped tomatoes, a splash of basalmic vinegar if you're feelin' daring... and voila! Raw Fetuccini Alfredo.

***

Eating involves all the senses. Taste, at least for me, is often the least important part of the meal. Mouthfeel and to a lesser extent smell, can completely make or break and dish for me. Most of the cravings I get aren't for specific foods but for textures - crunchy, chewy, sticky, crispy etc. Mandolined zucchini feels like noodles; you can even sort of slurp them up like noodles. Nutcheese has the gritty/creamy feel of certain alfredo sauces. This is not to say that I miss noodles or alfredo sauce, rather that being vegan (and especially raw) makes you realize that your body doesn't need meat/dairy to satisfy it; that what it often wants isn't even the food itself, but some strange combination of nutrition and aesthetics.

But being raw/vegan shouldn't (and isn't for me) be about trying to fool your body into thinking it's still eating meat- and dairy-based dishes. (You might notice some health benefits at first, but eating soy- and rice-based cheese and veggie burgers every day can be just as detrimental to your health as the constant meat and dairy). Notice how in the previous sentences I didn't say "real" meat or cheese. A small pet peeve of mine is the rhetoric of food. Here's where my true English geek-hood is going to come shining through.

**Side note, if I may, to take a moment for a small tangent to argue that this is the point of a college education: not for me to remember who it was who first talked about signifiers and privledged language and when they wrote their groundbreaking case-studies, blah, blah, blah - but to be able to identify when language is being used biasedly, to skew a point of view; in other words, to always be aware that language is a living, moving, changing thing. End tangent. End side note.**

Getting back on track. Though it is sometimes impossible to get around using modifiers like "faux" or "fake" or "psuedo," these words place the concepts they're attached to in a subordinate position to something considered "real" or "actual;" viz. the food labeled "fake" and "faux" has no way of being identified except in relation to what is labeled "real" and "actual" and that relation is often seen as inferior

(Ya like that kids? Throwin' up a little Latin shout-out for all the scholars in the audience. Word to your maters.)

Fake cheese, fake meat, fake ice cream...these things all sound like plastic accessories to the Little Tykes kitchenette in my cousins' playroom. Faux sounds like something created in a lab. Or, like faux fur, something you wear/eat so people still think you're sporting/munching the real thing. Labeling vegetable-based foods as such also implies that there's something real (and by extension, right, true, better) about animal-based food. And we all know that's just not true.

My boss said to me recently, (in a conversation where I try to explain why I eat raw and vegan in a way that doesn't sound proselytizing or like I'm a snob), "why would I want to eat a fake hamburger when I could have the real thing?" And he's right. I don't want to eat fake hamburgers either. I want to eat real food. The ingredient lists on the food I eat almost never contain an unpronouncable word, don't have chemical prefixes and numeric suffixes. Hell, most of the time there isn't an ingredient list! One of the best parts of eating raw is knowing with out a doubt what is in the food on my plate.

Mmmm...now that's good rhetoric! :)