Diet, Dessert and Dogs

[NB: A huge "THANK YOU" to all of you who sent good wishes my way yesterday. I really wasn't intending to sound so "woe-is-me" (I do that quite enough around the diet issues, thank you), but just reflecting on how the day could elicit positive vibes for all concerned.  Your comments sure worked toward that end for me, though: big hugs to all of you! ]

In my mind, here’s the perfect way to wake up on a Sunday morning: 

Outside, the weather is balmy. A mild breeze whispers through the slightly opened window, curtains undulating softly with each invisible breath.  The sun makes its presence known through the diaphanous curtain as it tickles the pillows of our bed with little sparkles of laughing light. Elsie pads quietly over to my side of the bed and, as gently as a rose petal floating to the ground, taps my open palm with her soft, moist nose. I open my eyes slowly. Glancing toward the window, I stretch luxuriously and think, ”Ahh, yes! Another lovely, sunny Sunday! This is a perfect time to have. . . BREAKFAST.” 

Unfortunately, the reality yesterday morning was more like this scenario:

It’s dark; the cold, clammy night air refuses to release its death grip on the house, barreling its way into the room through the open window.  Thin and defenseless, the curtains ripple and flap, rousing me with their wistful ”flltt, flltt, fllllltttt” tapping an SOS against the pane.  Chaser thumps enthusiastically over to my side of the bed and, with a serviceable impersonation of an approaching foghorn, targets my exposed ear with her wet, cold nose. My eyes pop awake and dart toward the window: monochrome grey sky, raindrops still clinging to the glass. Outside, there’s a constant flutter of leaves pelted by rain.  I jerk upright, reach for the bedside lamp and lament, “Aaarrghh!  Another crappy, rainy, gloomy Sunday.” But wait; pause. My smile returns, and I reconsider: ”Oh, well.  Typical Toronto day. But at least it’s time for–BREAKFAST!”

Like bright copper kettles and whiskers on kittens, breakfast does seem to make everything a little better, doesn’t it?

Well, as soon as I read about the second Recipe Remix blog event, hosted by Robin of Made with Love and Danielle of Make No Little Meals, I knew I had to enter. The event focuses on breakfast foods, asking bloggers to “remix” a traditional food in a new way.  Admittedly, the breakfast pickings were pretty slim (ah, if only I could say as much for my thighs): six dishes, five of which contained eggs, and all of which contained wheat–both no-no’s for this brekkie lover.  Initially, I narrowed the choice down to pancakes, crepes, or French toast. 

Now, as much as I love pancakes and crepes, I’d already dealt with both of those on this blog. Time for a new challenge.  But why, oh why did it have to be French toast?  I hate French toast.  Okay, maybe that’s being slightly dishonest.  The truth is, I TOTALLY, WHOLLY, ENTIRELY, COMPLETELY, ABSOLUTELY hate French toast. Can’t stand it. Never touch the stuff. Blech! French Toast is my mortal enemy! And I’m really not particularly fond of it, either.

I’m not sure why I developed this bone-chilling aversion to what is, arguably, a well-loved (and certainly popular) breakfast staple.  Perhaps it was my mother’s tendency to use approximately half a tub of margarine when frying the stuff, resulting in that previously unknown breakfast delicacy, Deep Fried Brick.  Despite the slices fairly floating in grease like aging Floridians at the pool, the toast inevitably still turned out slightly scorched on the outside.  At that point, my mom would stack the slabs on a plate (no blotting on a paper towel for her!) and douse them in corn syrup. The heavy, unctuous substance would spread, a slowly oozing blob that was eventually absorbed by the top slice, leaving it wet, weighted, and about as appetizing as a kitchen sponge just lifted from the bucket of grey, murky, muddy water. Ooh, yum. French toast, anyone?

I knew had to get over my childhood toast trauma.  I decided to approach it like an episode of Iron Chef: I’d been challenged to transform the lowly pain grillé into something mouth-watering, something delectable.  Was I up to the task?  Alas, I couldn’t think of anything.  I was at a loss; I was afraid I’d blow it.  In fact, I was certain I’d be. . . well, toast.

But this blog event was called Recipe REMIX, which meant I had carte blanche to change up the dish any way I wanted.  And who ever said that French Toast has to be fried?  In fact, it was the preparation method alone that rendered the stuff unpalatable to me; change the method, change the result.  Eliminating the frying would also result in a lighter, airier product.  I decided to bake the dish instead, after breaking the bread into smaller bits so they could soak up the liquid ingredients while nestled in a single soufflée dish: a French Toast casserole.

Working with a fairly standard (egg- and dairy-free, of course) mixture for soaking French toast, I added a few extra touches, such as a splash of berry liqueur or some mixed berries as a reminder of spring, a means to elicit that sunshine I missed so much in the morning.

As the mixture baked and browned, the bits of bread continued to soak up the batter, expanding and puffing like a male dove preening for a mate.  It rose up so much, in fact, with such a fluffy and almost mousse-like texture, that I decided to call it “French Toast Soufflé.” 

We ate it warm, bites of spongy, soft bread punctuated with bursts of juicy berries; but it could easily be served cold.  And while I didn’t have time to make any soy-free whipped cream yesterday, a dollop of cream would be the perfect accompaniment to a bowl of this fruity, light and delectable dish. 

Go on, indulge.  Why not have a big bowl for breakfast? It will make the rest of the day seem that much better.

 French Toast Soufflé with Summer Berries

I think this is what someone like Nigella would call a “summer pudding,” though I’ve never had one of those.  It would be a fabulous dish for a springtime brunch buffet, or even as a dessert following a light summer meal. 

8-10 slices stale sourdough spelt or kamut bread

1/4 cup (60 ml.) old-fashioned rolled oats

2-1/2 cups (620 ml.) vanilla rice or soy milk

1 tsp. (5 ml.) pure vanilla extract

1/2 cup (125 ml.) agave nectar

1 Tbsp. (15 ml.) organic cornstarch or arrowroot powder

2-3 Tbsp. (30-45 ml.) berry liqueur (framboise, cherry, etc.–I used Cloudberry, but it’s pretty rare)

1 Tbsp. (15 ml.) fresh lemon juice or 1/2 tsp. lemon extract

1-1/2 - 2 cups (325 to 500 ml.) fresh or frozen mixed berries

Preheat oven to 350 F (180 C).  Lightly grease a nonreactive (glass or ceramic) pan or soufflé dish.

Break the bread into bite-sized chunks and place in a large bowl.

In a blender, grind the oats until they are the consistency of a coarse meal.  Add the remaining ingredients except for the berries and blend until smooth.  Poor the mixture over the bread in the bowl, pushing the bread down with the back of a spoon so that all pieces are submerged.  Allow to sit 20-30 minutes, pressing the bread back down occasionally, until the bread is completely soaked through (there may still be liquid left in the bottom of the bowl; this is fine).

When the bread is all soaked, spoon half the bread slices and half the remaining liquid into the prepared pan.  Top with about 2/3 of the mixed berries.  Cover the berries with the rest of the bread and liquid, then top with the last 1/3 of the berries. 

Bake in preheated oven 40-50 minutes, until puffed and golden and a knife inserted in the centre comes out wet but clean.  Allow to cool at least 10 minutes before serving.  Serve warm, at room temperature, or cold.  Makes about 8 servings.  This is best served the day it’s made, though it can be re-heated the next day.

[Unretouched photo of unidentified, disk-like objects, hovering in the air over my kitchen table]

Before I metthe HH, I’d read exactly one science fiction novel (Arthur C. Clarke’s Childhood’s End, when I was about twelve) and seen only the standard TV shows or movies, such as Star Trek (in all its incarnations–though Deep Space really was an inferior specimen, don’t you think?) or Planet of the Apes.  It’s not that I’m uninterested in what might be happening on other planets or other universes; it’s just that, frankly, I have a hard enough time dealing with just this one–I mean, who needs more stress? 

Still, as a huge fan of all types of film (except anything with violence–which, I suppose, eliminates just about everything on screen these days, even down to Shrek the Third or Get Smart ), I was perfectly agreeable when the HH offered to introduce some of his favorite SF films to me, shortly after we first got together (of course, I was still trying to impress him back in those days, so I was pretty much agreeable to almost anything he suggested*). 

From La Jetée (the inspiration for Twelve Monkeys, aka The Only Film in which Pretty Boy Brad Pitt was Actually Any Good) to the original The Day the Earth Stood Still to Blade Runner, I have to admit I’ve enjoyed them all.  And these days, we’re both hooked on Battlestar Gallactica,  that terrific Canadian-U.S. co-production that’s not only well written and well performed, but a fascinating allegory for today’s political and religious climates (oh, and hunky Jamie Bamber in the role of Lee Adama doesn’t hurt, either). 

It seemed fitting, then, that I’d spy a recipe the other day for something with the oh-so-clever name of Cosmic Cookies (ie, they’re “out of this world”–get it?) at the new Planet Organic store that opened recently not too far from us. This was a monumental ouverture, as it was the first Big Organic Market north of the city (Toronto does have Whole Foods, but that’s way downtown in the tony Hazelton Lanes/Yorkville area, a far way to go for those of us orbiting out here in the ‘burbs).

 Well, I couldn’t wait to amble through the aisles and explore this newfound “planet.”  The atmosphere seemed amenable: I spent about 45 minutes inspecting the inventory, from prepared foods (salads, veggies, patties, croquettes, loaves, etc.)  to vegan baked goods (the orange-cranberry muffin I bought was, unfortunately, disappointing) to pastas, produce and packaged goods. 

Pleased overall, I ended up purchasing “just a few things” (at the checkout, once I regained the ability to breathe, I calculated that my little spree worked out to approximately $1.00 per minute. Clearly, this is no impoverished planet).

Here’s my haul:

1) Veggie patties.  Fittingly alien-looking with nubby edges and a deep carmine color, these little creatures were a mélange of carrots, beets, almonds, and an array of spices.  A bit too sweet for my taste; nevertheless, good lunch food.

2) Teriyaki tofu “steaks.”  Basically the first tofu recipe I ever cooked for myself: slabs of tofu marinated in the ubiquitous mix of soy sauce, ginger, something sweet and garlic. These were fine, if less than inspired.

3) A slice of bison meatloaf for the HH.  He loved it.  Enough said.

4) The pièce de resistance, the holy grail, the UFO (Unidentified Flour Object) I’d been seeking for weeks: a bag of coconut flour. I’d read about this elusive ingredient many times (it’s a mainstay in Deb’srecipes) but had never been able to find it before.  The coconut flour will provide me with hours of kitchen fun, playing with recipes for yet more cakes, cookies, bars, muffins, or pies free of wheat, eggs or dairy–and now, perhaps, free of gluten, too (it’s a GF flour).

In the meantime, I whipped up a batch of the store’s own Cosmic Cookies, a signature sweet made primarily of oats, seeds, raisins, chocolate chips and coconut.  I was so fixated on my coconut flour that I forgot to add the shredded coconut to the mix; they still came out fine. Since the store published the recipe in their own flyer, I assumed they wouldn’t mind my sharing it here as well.  

And though I enjoyed my visit to the store, I think I’ll restrict any future inter-planetary shopping to just the coconut flour. As much as I enjoyed the visit, it seems more like a special-occasion, rather than a regular, destination. Just like every other planet.

*No, nothing like that, you perverts!

Planet Organic’s Cosmic Cookies (verbatim from their flyer)

I modified this recipe ever so slightly. These are not too sweet and very filling, yet somehow, strangely addictive.  Could it be the extra-terrestrial influence?

2-1/4 cups quick cooking oats [I used old-fashioned]

2 cups spelt flour [I used whole spelt]

1 cup sunflower seeds

3/4 cup plus 2 Tbsp. pumpkin seeds

1/2 cup shredded coconut, unsweetened

1/4 cup flax seeds [I used ground flax]

1 cup granulated cane sugar [I used Sucanat]

1 Tbsp. cinnamon

2-1/4 tsp. sea salt [I used only 1/2 tsp.]

1-3/4 c. dairy-free chocolate chips

1-1/4 cups raisins [I used dried cranberries]

1/4 cup water

1/4 cup blackstrap molasses

3/4 cup canola oil [I used sunflower oil]

1 cup soymilk

Preheat oven to 350F. Line baking trays with parchment paper.

In a large bowl, combine all the dry ingredients (everything from oats to raisins).

In a separate large bowl, combine the wet ingredients (everything from water to soymilk). Add wet ingredients to dry and mix well to combine. Do not overmix.

Portion cookie dough using a 1/3 cup measuring cup [I used a large ice-cream scoop] and place onto lined baking tray. Gently flatten cookies before baking. Bake for 24 minutes or until lightly browned.  Makes 24 cookies.

[That's our little Vanilla, in the middle]

So, I heard somewhere that it’s hockey season now.  Oh, don’t look so surprised: despite having been raised in Montreal (a hockey town if ever there was one), I am indifferent to the sticks-and-pucks revelry. Personally, I’d rather read about the latest face-off between, say, brownies and blondies than between the Habs and the Flyers.

In fact, I can’t say that I’m too interested in any team sports–or, come to think of it, any sports at all. Is it any wonder?  Perpetually the “anchor” in tug-of-war; too uncoordinated to hit a baseball with a screen door; lacking even the modicum of balance necessary for hockey (though I did go skating, once, when I was about 15, soley to impress a guy I had a crush on.  Oh, I made a lasting impression, all right–somewhere on the upper right thigh, just where my skate sliced through the flesh, if memory serves.)

This is not to imply that I don’t enjoy a good competition with myself every now and again, in a constant effort to improve on my own “personal best.” (And speaking of competitions, I’ve just gotta say it: time to wave goodbye to Jason Castro, don’t you think?). I’m forever asking questions like, “Can I increase my speed on the treadmill this week?”  “Can I accomplish a bicep curl with a 15-pound weight?”  “Can I use up every single veggie from our weekly organic box?” “Can I manage to sweep my kitchen floor every day three times a week monthly before the dust bunnies take up permanent residence on the living room couch?”–and so on.

(”You know, Mum, we’d be happy to chase those bunnies for you.  And while we’re on the subject, why are they allowed on the couch when we’re not?”)

As far as I’m concerned, a little healthy competition in the kitchen can only be a good thing. In order to improve a recipe-in-progress, I might tinker with it 10 or a dozen times to get it right, often in a single day (why, yes, it’s true: I don’t have anything better to do!). Is the muffin better with agave or maple syrup?–let’s bake a new batch and find out!  Should I use barley flour or oat in the apple bars?–only another round of baking will tell! Can the cashew cookies stand up to cardamom, or would ginger be better?–let’s test ‘em out and see!

This somewhat peculiar proclivity in the kitchen was the impetus behind a strange experiment last week, one I conducted after receiving my copy of Carole Walter’s James Beard Award-winning cookbook, Great Coffee Cakes, Sticky Buns, Muffins & More, in the mail. As some of you may recall, my recipe for Maple-Walnut cookies won the book in a recent Cookthink Root Source Challenge for recipes based on maple syrup. (Hmm.  Yes, I suppose that made me “competitive,” though of course not in the athletic sense.)

As soon as I ripped open the package, I was charmed by the clean, clear layout, the stunning full-color photographs and the innovative, precisely written recipes (200 of them!). And even though it’s filled with traditional recipes with conventional ingredients (think eggs, milk, butter, etc.), the book focuses on homey, classic treats, which are fairly easily adaptable to NAG principles.

Virtually everything in the book appealed to me, from the Vanilla Bean Poundcake to the Irish Whiskey Cake to the Apricot and Dried Pineapple Muffins to the Fig and Walnut Loaf.  Lest you think the book is partial to goodies baked in pans, Walter also includes recipes for cookies, bars, biscuits, strudel, danish, buns and braids–plus many more treats shaped by hand.

My gaze lit upon a recipe called “Favorite Vanilla Muffins.” Vanilla muffins?  Sure, I’d sampled many a vanilla cake in my time, but never a vanilla muffin. With its denser, moister texture, might a muffin be a better foundation to showcase the fragrant, floral tones of pure vanilla extract? A competition was in order!

I thought about the differences between the two.  Like the Olson twins (though of course, in this case, actually connected to food), muffins and cupcakes are the same, but different.  Both are single-serving renditions of a larger baked good (loaf or cake); both sport domed tops, flat bottoms and angled sides often encased in frilly paper liners. To muddy the batters even further, both may (but are not required to) contain chopped fruits, nuts, or chocolate.

A few Googled pages later, I discovered that the cupcake versus muffin debate was already in full swing among bloggers and other writers (two good sources are recipezaar’s concise take on the issue, and the more detailed viewpoint on Curious Foodie’s blog).

How, I wondered, would that Favorite Vanilla Muffin stand up against its cakey counterpart? I decided to bake one of each (both using my adaptations of Walter’s recipes) and compare the results. Granted, my creations (no matter how delectable) would never be exactly as Walter intended; but I was okay with that. I chose a Classic Sour Cream Cinnamon and Nut Coffee Cake (without the cinnamon/nut filling) for my cupcake, mostly because, like the muffin recipe, it called for sour cream (and I needed to use up the tofu-based batch I’d be concocting). That would leave me with one vanilla; two vanilla (any more than that and we’d have the unfortunate Milli Vanilla).

[Coffeecake cupcake--with its intended filling. Get a load of that cinnamon-pecan swirl!]

Which won the competition? As expected, the muffins were heavier and denser. In fact, apart from the shape, they were a different animal entirely. For some reason, in these particular muffins, the vanilla essence proclaimed its presence assertively, even before you bit into the soft, moist interior; the sweet, floral aroma fairly radiates. And even though I knew my “sour cream” was soy-based, there was an incredible richness to these muffins that rendered them filling and satisfying; no need for fruit or fillers.

The cupcakes, for their part, were equally delectable.  Undisputably more delicate with a tender crumb, the cakes were lighter both in texture and color. The vanilla essence here was definitely noticeable as well, though in a more understated fashion.  Like pitting Ella against Diana singing Cole Porter classics: each transformed the outcome into something unique and exceptional, though clearly hailing from the same original concept.

So, in the end, it was a tie.  Two winners–two delicious baked goods to eat.  Everybody wins!

Since the recipes highlight vanilla, I thought this would be a perfect entry for the Master Baker Challenge, hosted by Master Baker.

Vanilla Muffins and Cinnamon-Pecan Cupcakes (inspired by recipes in Carole Walter’s Great Coffee Cakes, Sticky Buns, Muffins & More)

 [Left to Right: Cinnamon-Pecan Coffeecake Cupcake; Vanilla Muffin; Vanilla Muffin with Cashew-Cardamom variation]

For the “Sour Cream” (makes enough for one batch of each, muffins and cupcakes):

12 oz. (350 g.) firm silken tofu, such as Mori-Nu

2 tsp. (10 ml.) agave nectar

3 Tbsp. (45 ml.) lemon juice

2 Tbsp. (30 ml.) smooth cashew butter

Blend all ingredients in a food processor or blender, until perfectly smooth.

For the Vanilla Muffins:

1/2 cup (125 ml.) “sour cream” (half the batch)

3 Tbsp. (45 ml.) coconut butter, melted

1 Tbsp. (15 ml.)  pure vanilla extract

1/2 cup plus 2 Tbsp. (150 ml.) agave nectar

2 tsp. (10 ml.) Salba (ground chia seeds)

1 tsp. (5 ml.) apple cider vinegar

1-1/2 cups (220 g.) light spelt flour

1 tsp. (5 ml.) baking powder

1/2 tsp. sea salt

1/2 tsp. baking soda

Preheat oven to 350F (180C).  Line 9 muffin cups with paper liners for large muffins, or 12 cups for smaller muffins, or spray with nonstick spray.

In a medium sized bowl, combine the sour cream and melted coconut butter; whisk until well incorporated.  Whisk in the vanilla, agave nectar, salba and vinegar and set aside.

In a larger bowl, sift the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.  Stir the wet ingredients into the dry until well moistened (don’t worry if there are a few small dry spots here and there).

Using a scoop or large spoon, fill cups 3/4 full for larger muffins or 2/3 full for smaller muffins. Bake in preheated oven 20-25 minutes, rotating pan halfway through, until a tester inserted in center comes out clean.  Cool five minutes in pan before removing to cooling rack.  These freeze well.

Cashew-Cardamom variation:  Mix together 1/2 cup (125 ml.) chopped cashews with 2 Tbsp. (15 ml.) Sucanat and 1/4 tsp. (2 ml.) cardamom. When ready to scoop the muffins, fill each cup halfway.  Top with a spoonful of the cashew mixture and cover with another spoon of batter.  Bake as above.

For the Cinnamon-Pecan Coffeecake Cupcakes:

1/2 cup (125 ml.) “sour cream” (half of the batch)

1/4 cup (60 ml.) sunflower or other light-tasting oil

1/2 cup (125 ml.) pure maple syrup

1 tsp. (5 ml.) Salba (ground chia seeds)

3 Tbsp. (45 ml.) water

1 tsp. pure vanilla extract

1 cup (140 g.) light spelt flour

1 tsp. (5 ml.) baking powder

1/2 tsp. (2.5 ml.) baking soda

1/4 tsp. (1.5 ml.) sea salt

Optional Cinnamon-Nut Filling:

1/2 cup chopped toasted pecans

2 Tbsp. (30 ml.) Sucanat

1/4 tsp. ground cinnamon

Preheat oven to 350 F (180C).  Line 6 muffin cups with paper liners for large cupcakes, or 8 cups for smaller cupcakes, or spray with nonstick spray.

In a medium sized bowl, combine the sour cream, oil, maple syrup, Salba, water, and vanilla until well mixed.  Set aside.

In a larger bowl, sift the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and sea salt.  Pour the wet mixture over the dry and whisk until well combined. 

Fill each muffin cup about half full. Top with about 1 Tbsp. (15 ml.) of the nut filling, then cover with more batter.  You can draw a knife through the mixture once if you like to create a little swirl inside (but not more than once, or the filling will become too blended with the batter). 

Bake the cupcakes in preheated oven for 25-35 minutes, until the tops are golden and a tester inserted in center comes out clean.  Allow to cool 5 minute before removing to a cooling rack.  These freeze well.

When I was organizing my photos this weekend, I came across a fair number that I’ve never used in blog posts. Not sure why; maybe it’s that my (relatively new) blog-related compulsion to photograph virtually every dish I cook, bake, or eat has produced a backlog.  It also struck me that I’ve always depended on the kindness of strangers  to provide inspiration, unique recipes, or novel combinations of ingredients that often direct me in my cooking and baking exploits. And what better way to acknowledge their inspiration than to showcase some of these photos–and their recipes–here?

Since I began my ”Total Health” kick just over a week ago, I’ve steered clear of most sweets, including my greatest desire, chocolate. I have to admit that the restriction feels a tad less torturous this time than during the WOCA, when I would have hopped on the nearest streetcar named “Chocolate” and happily gone wherever it took me. Well, as it turns out, most of my photos depict desserts–how perfect for a sultry Sunday evening!  So here are some of the lost treasures that have been baked in the DDD household over the past few months:

These chocolate-cranberry biscotti, adapted from a recipe in Patricia Greenberg’s Whole Soy Cookbook, were my first attempt at these crisp coffee-dunkers. I wish I’d read Romina’s post about her own version before I made these, as I definitely baked them too long. While visually appealing, they were probably more useful as paperweights or doorstops than cookies.  After a long soak in a hot tub cup of tea or coffee, though, they were just fine.

Next up were Vegan Magic Cookie Bars from Susan’s blog. When I was a kid, we called these ”Hello Dollies” in our house (Why “Dolly?”  No idea.). Susan warns that these are definitely not fat-free.  Having said that, they were gooey, rich, and deliciously decadent. I had to give the rest away or I would have consumed them all.

These speckled darlings are Lemon-Zucchini Poppyseed Muffins adapted from one of my favorite cookbooks, Laura Matthias’s Extraveganza. With a tender, ethereal lightness, these muffins seemed almost too fragile for this world. Didn’t stop us from eating them, of course.

These gorgeous, golden beauties are Sweet Potato and Cranberry Scones, a test recipe for Anne-Kristin at Swell Vegan.  I adored these–juicy with tart cranberries, a base that’s satisfying, lightly spiced and not too sweet, with the expected heft you’d get from a conventional biscuit.  The HH and I thoroughly enjoyed these for breakfast (oh, and a few snacks). 

Another recipe courtesy of a fellow blogger: this Raw Carrot Cake and Cashew Cheeze Frosting hails from Lindsay over at Day to Day Vegan.  I’d been wanting to try this cake ever since Valentine’s Day, when we both participated in the Vegetable Love contest! My version came out a bit softer than Lindsay’s, so I just popped it in the freezer for about 20 minutes before unmolding and frosting.  Raw, with a mysterious magnetism. . .  This was yummy!

Finally, here’s a photo of the Double Chocolate Fudge Brownies from Ellen Abraham’s amazing cookbook, Simple Treats.  These are, quite simply, one of the best brownies I’ve ever baked or eaten.  See those chocolate chips gleaming in the sunlight?  These are so good, I have to show them again.  From another angle: 

Everyone I’ve ever served these to has flipped over them.  Aren’t they just stellar??  In fact, they might make you want to rush from the apartment, down the fire escape to the sidewalk below, and bellow at the top of your lungs, “STELLA-R! HEY, STELLA-RRRRRRR!!!!!!”

(Well, you just knew that’s where I was going with this one, didn’t you?).

Thanks to all my baking muses! Now, back to reading more blogs for new ideas. . . 

*Okay, so it’s not really Polish.  But the topping reminded me of a German Chocolate Cake topping, and since (half) my ancestry is Polish, I thought I’d just use the same concept for this cake’s name. 

Did you hear the one about the (half) Polish woman who wanted to bake a cake? 

Just kidding.

All right now! ‘Nuff of those wacky raw dishes we’ve been seeing the last couple of days!! Time for some CAKE.

One of the greatest challenges of living in a long-term, committed relationship is dealing with those areas in which you and your partner don’t necessarily mesh.  In order to coexist harmoniously and still retain one’s sanity, it’s sometimes necessary to make accommodations.  (Okay, fine; not only “sometimes,” but pretty much every day.  Okay, fine; several times a day.).

Since this union is the second go-round for both the HH and me, we no longer bristle at the petty, quotidien issues that drive some newlyweds crazy (does the toilet paper roll from the top or the bottom?  Do you re-fold the newspaper in its original configuration after reading, or leave it in separate, blowzy sections once you’re done with it? Is it okay to exchange sotto voce commentary while watching Atonement in the movie theater, or not?). Nevertheless, we do make our own concessions.  The HH prefers to play music ultra loud (beyond 11, even), whereas I prefer it as a soothing backdrop to other activities.  He takes a laissez-faire attitude toward housework and disciplining The Girls; I prefer a schedule, and rules. (”And we definitely prefer Dad’s approach. . . sorry, Mum.”)

One major difference that forces the issue pretty much daily is our respective dietary habits:  as I may have mentioned (perhaps, on occasion, in passing?) the HH loves to eat meat; I do not.

So when it comes to food, we’ve both learned to adapt. Over the past 11 years, the HH has eaten more tofu, collards, rice noodles and quinoa than he ever knew existed in the world. He’s also sacrificed some of his own cherished favorites, as when I had to cut out all alcohol (plus sugar, and fermented products, and fruits. . . don’t ask) from my diet for 2 years. He cheerfully complied and went without at home, with not a peep of protest.

So, as I browsed through my bookmarked recipes this week for something to bake, I was pleased to land on a recipe for Lemon-Coconut Bundt Cake from Deb’s great blog, Altered Plates. The HH adores coconut (whereas I’m fairly indifferent to it); coconut cream pie tops his list, but he’ll embrace cookies, muffins, bars, or any other coconut confections as well. I thought this would be the perfect cake to show my appreciation for his tolerating my (fairly) unconventional dietary habits over the years.

When I discovered that the Coconut-Lemon Cake recipe originated with Veganomicon, I wasn’t at all surprised. Seems you can’t read any food blog–vegan or not–these days without stumbling on a reference to that revered tome. I’ve tried many recipes from my own copy of the book, but none of the baked goods. In general,  Moskowitz and Romero (I like using their surnames–it’s actually the correct format when referencing other authors; and besides, it makes them sound like a comedy duo that way: “Romero & Moskowitz’s Laugh-In,” or maybe a law firm: “Moskowitz and Romero, LLP“ ) often make use of baking ingredients far removed from my own kitchen cabinets:  white sugar, wheat flour, margarine, and the like. And while it’s not difficult to adapt those kinds of recipes to my own requirements, I already had plenty of other recipes lined up. 

I was definitely drawn to the concept of lemon and coconut coexisting in harmony (sort of like the HH and me!). But an entire Bundt cake seemed massive (I mean, how many extra baked goods can one bring to the office?). I decided to halve the recipe and bake it in a round cake pan.

In addition, M & R recommend serving the cake unfrosted.  Now, maybe a naked Bundt (like the Venus de Milo or Miley Cyrus’s shoulder) is sufficiently alluring on its own; but an unadorned, plain-Jane round layer, sans frosting or filling? Well, that just wouldn’t do.  Instead, I omitted the coconut from the cake itself, then added it to a a lemony, gooey topping, reminiscent of the frosting on a German Chocolate Cake, for a little more flair.

I’m happy to report that the HH was very pleased with the final result.  The cake itself revealed a cheery yellow, moist and light interior; the slightly more brash lemony topping, lush and loaded with coconut, provided a great contrast in texture and sweetness.  In fact, the HH seemed so pleased with his treat that I felt perfectly justified asking him to turn down that deafening volume on the stereo.

Since I was inspired by Deb’s adapted version, I’m submitting this entry to Ruth’s weekly Bookmarked Recipes event, over at Ruth’s Kitchen Experiments.

Polish Lemon Cake (adapted from Veganomicon)

This cake is very moist with a gooey, rich and intensely lemon topping.  Perfect for a dessert or an afternoon snack, it keeps well in the fridge (and is even better the second day). 

Coconut-Lemon Topping:

1/3 c. (80 ml.) agave nectar

1 Tbsp. (10 g.) organic cornstarch

2 Tbsp. (30 ml.) coconut milk

2 Tbsp. (30 ml.) unflavored soymilk

2 tsp. (10 ml.) freshly grated lemon zest

pinch turmeric

1 tsp. (5 ml.) vanilla

2 Tbsp. (30 ml.) soymilk powder

3/4 cup (60 g.) shredded unsweetened coconut, toasted

Cake:

3/4 cup (175 ml.) agave nectar

1/3 cup (80 ml.) sunflower or other light-tasting oil 

3/4 cup plus 2 Tbsp. (200 ml.) coconut milk (1/2 a 400 ml. or 14-ounce can)

2 Tbsp. (30 ml.) unflavored soymilk

2 Tbsp. (30 ml.) fresh lemon juice

2 tsp. (10 ml.) freshly grated lemon zest

1 tsp. (5 ml.) pure vanilla extract

1 tsp. (5 ml.) ground Salba (chia seeds)

1 cup (150 g.) light spelt flour

1/2 cup (70 g.) coconut flour

1/2 tsp. (2.5 ml.) sea salt

1-1/2 tsp. (7.5 ml.) baking powder

1/2 tsp. (2.5ml.) baking soda

Make the topping: In a small saucepan, whisk together the agave nectar and cornstarch until smooth.  Slowly whisk in the milks, lemon zest and turmeric.  Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until mixture comes to a boil.  Reduce heat and simmer the mixture for one minute, stirring. 

Remove from heat and add the vanilla and soymilk, whisking until smooth (don’t worry about tiny lumps, as they’ll be camouflaged by the coconut; if you want it really smooth, you can blend with a hand-held blender before adding the coconut). Once the mixture is smooth, stir in the vanilla and coconut.  Allow to cool while you prepare the cake.

Make the cake: Preheat oven to 350F (180C).  Grease an 8″ round pan, or line with parchment paper.

In a medium bowl, mix together the agave, oil, milks, lemon juice, lemon zest, vanilla, and Salba.  Whisk to ensure that the Salba is evenly distributed.  Set aside while you measure the dry ingredients.

In a large bowl, sift the spelt flour, coconut flour, salt, baking powder, and baking soda.  Stir the wet mixture into the dry until well combined.  Pour the mixture into the prepared pan and bake in the preheated oven for 40-45 minutes, until deep golden brown and a cake tester inserted in the center comes out perfectly clean.  Alllow to cool about 20-30 minutes, until cake is no longer hot. 

Scrape the coconut filling over the cake and spread evenly. Refrigerate until cold, about an hour.  Cut into slices and serve.  Makes 8-10 servings.

True confession (of the culinary kind): 

Even though I stopped baking with refined sugar almost a decade ago and never keep it in the house, there are times when I cave.  On occasion I’ll purchase a sugar-laden product, either because (a) it’s something new and fabulous and I feel I MUST try it, or (b) it’s something not normally available to vegan eaters and I want to taste-test, to see if I can conjure up a healthier version of my own.  Sometimes, it’s both.

That was the case when I bought my first–and only–can of Soyatoo a couple of months ago.  My friend PR Queen and I attended a health food fair where they were hawking selling the product tax-free (which–as those of you who’ve ever shopped in Canada will know–is, like, 85% off).  I couldn’t resist.

And so, feeling oddly like Sethi in the movie The Ten Commandments (though not at all regal, of course), I broke my own vow, and uttered the name of. . . Roses!  Soyatoo-based roses, to be precise.  And rosettes.  And swirls. And squiggles.

I had visions of light, fluffy peaks of the white stuff adorning cream pies and tarts; high, shimmering towers of it piped over fresh berries; or amorphous, cloudlike mounds of it perched atop steaming mugs of hot chocolate.  All these images whirled in my head as I forked over the cash and embraced my can of white, wondrous whipped “cream.”

The second I got home, I pulled some frozen raspberries from the freezer and hastily spooned them into a bowl so I could test out my cache. I followed the directions on the can–exactly–and pressed the button.  There was a hissing sound, a slight whoosh, and then–ah, sweet mystery of compressed edible oil product!–out came a rosette.  One. 

And then, all was silent. 

I shook the can.  I pressed again.  I shook again.  I placed my mouth over the nozzle as if performing some grotesque, otherworldly mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, and sucked out the excess topping before trying again.

Nothing. Nada. Not even the slightest sibilance. 

And so, there went my can of Soyatoo–straight in to the garbage.*

Well, there was one favorable outcome from that failed experiment: I decided then and there to create my own, much healthier,  non-dairy whipped cream.  I fully realize that there are other similar creams already posted on the Internet (thanks, Hannah, for this recipe), but my needs were very specific.  I wanted mine to (1) be soy-free; (2) avoid the waste of using only part of the can of coconut milk;  (3) contain no sugar, and (4) be simple enough that it could work without a candy thermometer or any other special equipment.

Well, I came up fairly quickly with what I considered to be a servicable product, and one that was soy-free, to boot.  I even piped it onto Nava’s Butterscotch Mousse Pie that I wrote about a while back, and the HH and I enjoyed that batch immensely.  Here’s what it looked like:

Before posting my recipe, however, I knew I’d need to test it out numerous times to ensure it was sound and that the results were consistent. I even enlisted two others (thanks, Sally and Alice) to help out as recipe testers.

Well, sorry to say, the results weren’t stellar. While the testers’ feedback was very positive regarding taste,  they both said the cream was a bit too soft and not fluffy enough.  I found my own results to be frustratingly inconsistent, even though I thought I was following the exact recipe each time.

And then, it hit me:  I was using coconut milk, but not the identical coconut milk for each and every trial!  Once I discovered which brand worked best, I tried again–and again, and again–with (qualified)  success. It wasn’t perfect, but the outcome was similar each time.  And so, I’ve decided to post the recipe as it now stands despite the imperfections, in the hopes that some of you might try it out and report your own findings.

The cream is rich-tasting, light, and can stand in very effectively for dairy cream atop desserts (I have no idea how it would work, say, folded into a chocolate mousse, however). 

Here are some important notes before you begin: :

1. The recipe uses agar, an ingredient I’ve found to be tricky in the past.  Moreover, since I couldn’t find agar powder here in Toronto, I bought flakes and then ground them up myself in a coffee grinder.  So I can’t vouch for results if you use regular agar powder or agar flakes. 
2. After trying several brands of organic coconut milk and finally moving to conventional coconut milk, I found the only brand that seemed to work consistently was Rooster Gold Label brand (I know it’s available at all Loblaws stores, but have no idea about stores outside of Canada).  I checked labels, and the brand I used contains a whopping 22% total fat content.  I’d think that if you use a milk with a similar fat content, it should work just as well.
3. This is a very fussy recipe.  You need to cook the mixture, blend it, cool it a bit, blend again, cool some more, then whip with electric beaters–not for the faint of heart.  That said, once it’s whipped, it will retain its shape for several days.
4. If it doesn’t work out perfectly as a whipped topping, it is sensational to eat on its own–rich, smooth, not too sweet, and very creamy.

I’d love to hear from those of you brave (foolhardy?) enough to try it out, and see if we can’t refine and perfect the recipe!

Coconut Whipped Cream

This is a great topping for fancy desserts.  To make the cream, you will need a hand (immersion) blender (a regular blender won’t work for this) and electric beaters.

1/3 cup (80 ml.) vanilla rice milk

2 tsp. (10 ml.) home-ground agar “powder”–it should look like this (these grains are in a teaspoon (5 ml.) to give you an idea of size):

2 tsp. (10 ml.)  plus 1 Tbsp. (15 ml.) cornstarch, divided

2 scant Tbsp. (25 ml.) agave nectar

pinch sea salt

1 tsp. (5 ml.) pure vanilla extract

1 can (398 ml.) full-fat coconut milk (22% fat content), at room temperature (shake well before opening)

Step 1: In a small pot, combine the rice milk and agar.  Allow to sit, covered and at room temperature, for at least 30 minutes.

Step 2: Stir everything but the 1 Tbsp. cornstarch into the agar mixture and whisk to combine.  Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until the mixture just begins to boil.  Lower heat so that the mixture is still bubbling just under the surface, and set a timer for 10 minutes.  While it continues to cook, stir every minute or so.

After 5 minutes, choose one of the following options:  (1) if all the agar is dissolved (and no longer visible on a rubber spatula or spoon), remove from heat and turn off the timer (just forget about the last 5 minutes).  Pour into a bowl and proceed to step 3. 

OR: (2) If you can still see bits of agar, like this:

then continue to cook for the remaining 5 minutes on the timer, and stir every minute or so.  After 5 more minutes (10 total), remove the mixture from the heat, even if there are still tiny bits of agar left in it (they will be blended out next).  Pour into a bowl and proceed to step 3. 

Step 3: Pour the mixture into a deep bowl.  Immediately blend with your immersion blender until perfectly smooth and no bits of agar are visible (careful, it’s hot and may spray a bit!).  Set aside to cool somewhat.

Step 4: When the mixture is still slightly warm but no longer hot (and still fairly liquid), sprinkle the remaining 1 Tbsp. cornstarch over the top; using the immersion blender, blend again to even out the texture and get rid of any little lumps.  Place the bowl in the refrigerator until the mixture is ice-cold; it will become very solid, like an extremely firm gel.

Step 5: Once again using the immersion blender, blend the gelled mixture until it is perfectly smooth and no lumps remain, but don’t blend any more than necessary.  Scrape down the sides as you go.

Step 6: Now, using the beaters, beat the smoothed mixture until soft peaks form.  If the mixture is cold, this should happen fairly quickly.  You’ll have a soft cream that holds very soft peaks, but definitely holds its shape.  It will look something like this:

Step 7: At this point, you can mound the cream over a pie, or put it in a piping bag and gently pipe it.  It will seem too soft to pipe, but as long as it holds a shape in the bowl (and the surface of the cream doesn’t “melt” and flatten), it can be piped.  Here’s how I piped it even when the cream turned out quite soft: 

And here’s a slightly firmer version:

Despite the fussiness of the recipe, I’d definitely make this again for special occasions (it was great on Nava’s Butterscotch Mousse Pie, as well as the Coffee ”Cheesecake” Tart, above–recipe from Laura Mathias’s Extraveganza). 

Though perhaps not for a while. . . after more than 15 trials, the HH and I are maxed out on cream for now!

“Don’t worry, Mum, we’d be willing to help you out with any extra cream. . . “

For those of you who celebrate, Happy Passover!  (I think this cream would be allowed. . . ).  And happy weekend to all!

*Addendum:  I’ve since learned from other bloggers that Soyatoo is unreliable for them, too.  Thanks to Chocolate Covered Vegan for the suggestion to open and try out each can in the store–if it doesn’t work, they should want to return it to the manufacturer, anyway; and if it does work, you’re buying it, so what would they care?

[I thought it would be fun to run a little series over here at DDD: I'll profile one one of my favorite foods, or a food that I've recently discovered and enjoyed, over several days.  For this second entry, I'm focusing on Quinoa. The series is presented on an occasional (and entirely arbitrary) basis, before I move on to the next lucky comestible. This is the last entry on quinoa.]

The moment I decided to present a Lucky Comestible series about quinoa, I simultaneously decided I’d have to include at least one baked goodie.  I know what you’re thinking:  “Now, Ricki, haven’t you already included a recipe for said baked goodie?  After all, you did post about Almond-Quinoa Muffins before the involuntary GBR, didn’t you?” 

Why, yes! Yes, I did. However, technically speaking, muffins are a “baked good,” not a “baked goodie“–the latter term reserved for dessert-type treats, such as cakes, pies, cookies, tarts, or bars.  I wanted to see if I couldn’t turn quinoa into something at least quasi cake-like, despite its elevated whole grain status–something worthy of the term, “dessert”–something that even skeptics like Johanna or Wendy (who mentioned on Johanna’s blog that quinoa reminds her of worms!) could enjoy. 

So, even though personally, my favorite use of quinoa is as a base for salad (where its true essence can shine through), I let my mind wander back toward baking.  And while so doing, I remembered that, in actuality, quinoa is not really a grain–it’s a seed related to beets and leafy greens such as spinach or chard.  Well, okay, I’ve already used spinach in a previous baked goodie, so that didn’t deter me at all.  And even if my quinoa creation didn’t turn out as decadent as a molten chocolate cake, I figured I could still whip up something with both a great nutritional profile AND a sweetness rating high enough to please the kids as an after-school snack, or to serve unexpected guests, with a steaming cup of green tea.  (”And don’t forget, it’s also good enough as a special treat for your sweet and devoted Girls, Mum! We LOVE apple-quinoa cake. . .”)

Since we already had a bag of Macintosh apples withering away on the counter, I started there.  I imagined that a lightly spiced batter would work well with the sturdy taste of quinoa, which can sometimes be a bit domineering in a crowd. For some reason (perhaps because quinoa itself is gluten-free), I decided the bars should also be celiac-friendly. 

What I ended up with was a light and moist cake, studded with raisins and sunflower seeds alongside thin shreds of apple and grains of quinoa.  The cake is slightly chewy, slightly crunchy, with a tender crumb and pleasing spice.  And because it’s fashioned from leftovers of both quinoa and apple, I thought it would be a perfect submission to the Leftover Tuesdays event, hosted by Project Foodie. 

“Mum, you disappoint us.  Raisins?  You know we can’t eat raisins.  But maybe you could pick them out for us. . . “

 Apple-Quinoa Cake

Next time you cook up some quinoa and find yourself with leftovers, try this great snack cake. Without being excessively sweet and boasting sunflower seeds, two fruits and two whole grains, the cake is nutritious enough to eat for breakfast, though still light enough for dessert.  The subtle apple and trio of spices is a tantalizing combination–you may have to stop yourself from having more than one piece!

2 whole medium apples, cored and coarsely grated (about 1 cup lightly packed or 200 g.)–I used Macintosh and left the skins on

1/2 cup (125 ml.) agave nectar

1/2 cup (125 ml.) sunflower or other light-tasting oil

2 cups (160 g.) cooked quinoa

2 tsp. (10 ml.) finely ground Salba (chia seeds)*

2 tsp. (10 ml.) pure vanilla extract

1 tsp. (5 ml.) apple cider vinegar

1/4 cup (40 g.) sunflower seeds

1/4 cup (40 g. ) raisins

1-1/3 cups (160 g.) whole oat flour

1 tsp. (5 ml.) baking powder

1/2 tsp. (2.5 ml.) baking soda

1 tsp. (5 ml.) ground ginger

2 tsp. (10 ml.) ground cinnamon

1 tsp. (10 ml.) or less, to taste, cardamom

1/2 tsp. (2.5 ml.) sea salt

1/4 cup whole oats

Preheat oven to 350F (180C).  Grease a 9″ square pan, or line with parchment paper.

In a medium bowl, mix the grated apple, agave nectar, oil, quinoa, Salba, vanilla, vinegar, sunflower seeds and raisins.  Set aside.

In a large bowl, sift the flour, baking powder, soda, ginger, cinnamon, cardamon, and sea salt.  Add the oats. Add the wet mixture to the dry and mix well. 

Pour into prepared pan and smooth the top.  Bake for 30-40 minutes, until a tester inserted in the center comes out clean.  Allow to cool before cutting into slices.

Makes 9 breakfast servings or 12 dessert servings.  Best eaten the day it’s made.

* If you don’t have or can’t find chia, you could try substituting 2 Tbsp. ground flax seeds; but the cake will probably be denser and heavier this way.

Other Posts in this Series:

Lucky Comestible II (1): Quinoa Salad with Buckwheat and Cranberries

Lucky Comestible II (2): Almond-Quinoa Muffins

Lucky Comestible II (3): Quinoa-Oatmeal Croquettes

Lucky Comestible II (4): Tagine of Quinoa with Chickpeas, Olives and Prunes 

Other Quinoa Recipes:

(Got a quinoa recipe?  Send me the link during this Lucky Comestible week, and I’ll add it to the list!)

• Couldn’t Be Easier Quinoa Casserole courtesy of Shellyfish at Musings from the Fishbowl
• Quinoa with Sundried Tomatoes and Corn courtesy of Lisa at  Lisa’s Kitchen
• Quinoa Soup with Corn courtesy of Lisa at Lisa’s Kitchen
• Quinoa Lentil Chili courtesy of Romina at Vegan Eating for One
• Not One, But THREE Quinoa Dishes courtesy of Diann at Eat’n Veg’n (I want that breakfast bar recipe!!)
• Cheddary Tofu Quinoa Pie courtesy of Jenny Wren at Rabbit Food
• Butternut Squash Quinoa courtesy of Karen at Test Drive Kitchen
• Beetroot and Quinoa Salad courtesy of Lucy at Nourish Me
• Quinoa Italiano courtesy of Cheryl at Gluten Free Goodness

Despite my constant whining about winter (When, oh when will it finally be over?? How much longer must I endure this bleak, bleached, desolate wasteland of frigid snow? How many more days must I suffer through this torturous, crystalline hell on earth? ), I fully recognize that the season Below Zero does have at least a few minor benefits. 

For one, you get to cuddle closer to your honey while watching Battlestar Gallactica or a DVD.  You feel justified when you stay home from that excruciatingly boring dinner meeting (”but the roads were impossible. . . “).  You have a legitimate reason to cover up your all-time high weight of mumblemumbleundisclosednumber pounds and wear loose sweaters.

And then, when the season finally begins to wane, you have the opportunity to eat fresh maple syrup.

Although technically, the trees aren’t tapped until early spring, in Canada you can purchase real maple syrup year-round (yay!). When I first changed my diet and left white sugar in the dust, maple syrup quickly became one of my baking staples.  Its subtle, buttery, vaguely smoky and intensely sweet flavor is the perfect enhancement for so many foods–pancakes, of course, but also baked beans, scrambles, chocolate pudding, even some noodle dishes or casseroles.  Whether you enjoy the lighter grades that contain a higher water content (the syrup darkens in color, thickens somewhat and intensifies in flavor as it’s condensed) or the richer, darker varieties, true maple syrup is a unique and noteworthy enjoyment.

When we were kids, I never realized that what my mom referred to as “maple syrup” was actually artificially-flavored corn syrup.  My dad and sisters loved the stuff, and would slather it on a stack of pancakes so thickly that the syrup soaked right through to the cake on the very bottom of the pile, rendering them all a soggy, sticky mess. 

I could never warm up to those heavy, dense, wet cakes.  It wasn’t until I began to purchase pure maple syrup as an adult that I truly learned to appreciate pancakes.  At first, I was skeptical, cutting just a corner of the pancake and tentatively dipping it into a little pool of syrup on my plate, as if I were testing lakewater with my big toe; but once I experienced that authentic light and sugary elixir, I felt comfortable pouring it on and plunging in with gusto.

Tasting genuine maple syrup also called to mind a childhood event when I was lucky enough to sample the “real thing” away from our corn syrup-infused kitchen at home.  Once, on an extra-curricular school trip in April, our grade three class visited a maple farm north of the city.  There, we attended an event known as “Sugaring Off.”  (To this day, the term sounds vaguely like an expletive to me: “Why, you sonofa–just sugar off!”  “Oh, yeah?  Well you sugar off! And your mother wears army boots, too!”)

The maple farmers would hold these events just as the sap began to run, using freshly tapped syrup.  They’d heat it just enough so that it caramelized instantly when poured over a base of pristine, white, freshly scooped snow that had been spread evenly across a long metal table.  Immediately, the syrup was transformed into toffee against the frosted snow, and we kids wielded soup spoons, scooping in a frenzy of delight as we dug in and all shared the huge slab of sweetness. 

Of course, these days, the practise would be banned for hygienic purposes. When I was a kid, however, no one worried about the snow harboring parasites, or fox pee, or fungus-infested decomposing pine cones. . . we just ate it.  We all double-dipped, even triple-dipped, sharing the same enormous, rectangular, metal plate. And it was delicious.  Like soft, warm, just-cooked caramel. . . . oh, how I loved it!

 So when I heard about this week’s Root Source challenge to create a recipe with maple syrup, I knew I had to participate.  Since I’ve been baking exclusively with natural sweeteners for the past few years, anyway, this task didn’t strike me as very different from what I’ve already been doing. And while I had a few maple syrup-based recipes in my repertoire, I wanted to create something original for this event.

Since I’m off chocolate for the time being, I considered other foods with which maple syrup can be paired successfully.  One of the most common combinations–walnuts and maple syrup–exists precisely because these two ingredients complement each other so well. So I decided this was no time to buck tradition; maple and walnut it is!

The result of my kitchen playtime is these Maple-Walnut Cookies.  They’re light, crisp, and really showcase the unique flavor of the syrup, especially the day after you bake them, when the flavors mature. If you prefer a chewy cookie, reduce the baking time by two or three minutes. 

 Maple-Walnut Cookies

Because this was a test batch, I made a relatively small quantity.  You should be able to double this without any problems.

1/2 cup (50 g.) walnut halves

1/4 cup (30 g.) ground flax seeds

1/4 cup plus 2 Tbsp. (45 g.) whole barley flour

1/4 tsp. baking soda

1/4 tsp. baking powder

1/4 tsp. sea salt

2 Tbsp. tahini (sesame paste)

1/2 tsp. pure vanilla extract

1/3 cup pure maple syrup

1/4 tsp. apple cider vinegar

Preheat oven to 350F.  Lightly grease a cookie sheet, or line with parchment paper.

In the bowl of a food processor, process the walnuts, flax, barley flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt together until you have a fine meal. The nuts should be finely ground into the mix; no large pieces of nut should be detectable. 

Add the tahini, vanilla, maple syrup and apple cider vinegar to the processor.  Pulse or process on low speed until the mixture comes together to a sticky dough.

 Using a small ice cream scoop or tablespoon, scoop balls of dough and place on the cookie sheet about 2 inches apart.  Wet your hands and flatten each cookie slightly (or use the back of a glass).

Bake about 10 minutes, until golden brown, turning the sheet once about halfway through.  Cool before removing from sheet.  Makes about 15 cookies. These freeze well.

[Ed. Note--This recipe won the CookThink Recipe Challenge for Maple Syrup, and was published on the CookThink site.  Almost as exciting as a good sugaring off party!]

Sometimes, you just want to eat something now.  I’ve decided to offer a mini-post every once in a while, for a dish that comes together incredibly quickly, or else is so easy to make that no recipe is required.  Here’s my first “Flash in the Pan.”

Speedy Fruit Sorbet

When I crave something sweet, creamy, and cold, this is my current indulgence.  It’s made almost entirely of fresh-frozen fruit, so there’s absolutely no guilt.  And it’s ready in about three minutes.  I’m loving this sorbet!

1/2 banana, frozen

about 1/2 cup frozen berries (I like blueberries and raspberries, mixed)

about 1/4 cup chopped frozen mango or pear (adds creaminess)

up to 2 Tbsp. agave nectar (may be omitted)

up to 1/4 cup plain soymilk or coconut milk (may be omitted)

Throw everything in your food processor and whir until it begins to resemble ice cream.  You’ll need to stop the machine and scrape down the sides two or three times before it comes together.  As soon as it’s creamy, scoop out and serve–it melts quickly.  This is a little scoop of heaven in a bowl!

I have to admit that I was never much of a pie person until very recently. 

“I mean, really,” I would ask pie-lovers, “What is it if not just an oddly-shaped fruit (or veggie) sandwich? Apples and cinnamon between two layers of crust. Blueberries between two layers of crust. Pumpkin between two layers of crust.”  Bah.

Oh, but that was just my cynical self, the one with pie envy, talking.  Once I learned to produce a truly great crust, all my counter-crust sentiments dissolved, like butter under your fingers. 

Traditional pastry, it seems, relies on the unique chemistry between cold fat and dry flour, cut into little bullets of butter or lard that subsequently melt and expand while baking, thereby creating pockets of air space.  If you’re not using solid fat in the mix, the crust simply doesn’t work out the same way, even if you DO refrigerate it; it just never achieves the same degree of tender flakiness.  As a result, I never had much success with pie crust. And because I don’t use margarines, the option of Earth Balance isn’t a possibility for me, either.

Every time I used to attempt a pie, I’d end up feeling a little like Jan, the “less-than” sister of the Brady Bunch: all I could do was clench my fists and wail, ”Crust, Crust, Crust!!” 

Well, once I discovered vegan baking and nut-based crusts, those floury flakes lost their ability to bully this baker! Even though I don’t make them very often, I now truly enjoy a good vegan pie, and the crust is just as appealing to me as the filling (though I still favor non-fruit fillings). 

After experimenting with various combinations of ingredients, I was completely euphoric to discover that a mixture of ground nuts and oats, with a healthy sprinkling of flour added in, served as an ideal base for vegan pie crust.  With that discovery in hand, there was no stopping me!  First, I made variations on traditional fruit-filled versions; then I moved on to explore pumpkin or sweet potato fillings; finally, I graduated to the much-loved vegan chocolate mousse and other “cheesecake” fillings.  But what next? (”How about a dog-friendly pie, Mum?  You know we love your crust!”)

Well, as I mentioned in an earlier post, I am either blessed or cursed with the strange ability to remember numbers of all types–phone numbers or addresses that I’ve encountered once, weird statistics (like, did you know that 1 in 3 Americans can’t properly decode a bus schedule?), or single numerals from something I learned long ago (for instance, all I now recall from high school chemistry, a course in which I excelled at the time, is Avogadro’s Number: 6.02 x 10²³ ). Similarly, I do remember that Pi is 3.14 (more or less)–though of course, I’ve never had a single occasion to make use of that fact. 

Except for now!  As it turns out, Kitchen Parade is hosting a Pie/Pi event this month: “Pi Day: Recipes for Homemade Pie.” Well, that suited me just fine, as I’m now happy to participate with both types of “pie/pi.”  And I immediately thought of the perfect filling for my entry. (”Yay! A pie for us! What a great Mum!”)

As I mentioned in yesterday’s post, I was recently fortunate enough to spend a week testing out my new cookbook, Vegan Express by Nava Atlas, and  fixed my sights on the very last recipe in the book, Butterscotch Mousse Pie.  Butterscotch is one of my favorite flavors after chocolate–and guess what?  This pie has both!  Soft and airy, the filling is a cross between a mousse and a custard, with a butterscotch flavor well represented by brown rice syrup and butterscotch extract.  It was a big hit with my HH , who is normally a cow’s dairy kind of guy. (”But Mum. . . you know we can’t have chocolate. . . Aw, Mum, crust, crust, crust!”)

Nava has kindly allowed me to reprint the recipe here, so I’m going to copy it verbatim from the book (with any adjustments I made in square brackets beside the original instructions).  I gussied it up a bit with my own version of whipped cream (the recipe for which I’ll post anon), so hope you like it!

To make the entire pie gluten-free, just use a GF pie crust; the filling and topping are both already gluten free.

Butterscotch Mousse Pie

Nava notes: “As I mentioned in Butterscotch Apples, I adore this seductive extract.  If you do too, the scent of the pie as it bakes and cools will drive you mad. And I can almost guarantee that the rich flavor won’t disappoint. You can find good-quality graham-cracker crusts in natural foods stores or the natural foods section of supermarkets.” 

Makes one 9-inch pie.  Six to eight servings.

One 16-ounce tub silken tofu [I used an equivalent amount of firm-silken Mori-Nu]

1/3 cup cashew butter

1/3 cup brown rice syrup [I used a bit more, as we preferred it a bit sweeter--about 1/2 cup]

2 tsp. butterscotch extract

1 tsp pure vanilla extract

One 9-inch vegan chocolate graham cracker crust [I used my own crust--recipe below]

2 Tbsp. dairy-free chocolate chips

2 Tbsp. rice milk

1. Prepare pie crust if making from scratch.

2. Preheat the oven to 350F.

3. Combine the tofu, cashew butter, rice syrup, butterscotch extract and vanilla in a food processor and process until creamy and completely smooth. Pour the mixture into the crust.

4. Combine the chocolate chips and rice milk in a small saucepan and heat gently. Whisk together until smooth. Or, combine the chocolate chips and rice milk in a small bowl, heat in a microwavae for about 45 seconds or until melted, then whisk together.

5. Drizzle the melted chocolate over the top of the pie. Using a spoon [I used a knife], gently create swirl patterns.

6. Bake for 40 to 45 minutes, or until the pie feels set in the center. Cool competely, then serve. If time allows, chill before serving. [I chilled the pie about 2 hours before topping with "cream" and serving. ]

Buttery, Rich Oat-Nut Pie Crust

This version, while unlike a traditional pastry crust, is nevertheless rich-tasting, and crumbles delicately, melting beautifully on the tongue.  

(”We do love this crust, Mum!  Maybe just a taste of this part–??”)

1/2 cup (55 g.) whole barley flour

1/4 cup (60 ml.) ground flax seeds

1/2 cup (120 ml.) whole rolled oats (not quick-cooking)

1/2 cup (60 g.) walnut pieces

1/4 tsp. sea salt

2-3 Tbsp. pure maple syrup

1/4 cup (60 ml.) sunflower or other light-tasting oil

In a food processor, combine the flour, flax, nuts, and salt until you have a uniform, fine meal (there shouldn’t be any detectable bits of nut in it, though you may see bits of oats). 

Drizzle the maple syrup and oil evenly over the top, then pulse a few times just until well-blended and the mixture comes together.  It will be a soft dough, a little sticky, but not so sticky that it adheres to your hand when you pat it into the pie plate (if it’s too soft or sticky, sprinkle with another tablespoon or two of flour and mix in by hand).

Press the dough into a lightly greased 9″ pie plate and flute sides if desired.  Dock the crust by poking holes with a fork evenly over the surface.

For pre-baked crusts: Bake for 15-25 minutes at 375F (190 C), until golden brown throughout.

For crusts that will be baked with the pie:  prebake for 10 minutes at 350F (180C), until the crust begins to puff a bit and appears dry on the top.