Diet, Dessert and Dogs

There are certain food combinations that strike one as just so naturally compatible, you couldn’t imagine them any other way. Consider the seminal chocolate and peanut butter, for instance: could there be a happier marriage of sweet, salty, creamy, smooth, and enticing? Or what about vodka and orange juice, or pancakes and maple syrup, or french fries and gravy, or macaroni and cheese, or apple and cinnamon or–I could go on.  On the other hand, it’s always gratifying to discover alternate matches that may seem bizarre at first glance, yet actually work once you give them a try (funny, why did the HH suddenly come to mind?)

When I was an undergraduate at the University of Windsor, my wacky room mate had a friend who ate her pizza with peanut butter where the tomato sauce should have been.  She swore it tasted great (I declined to sample a slice). During my childhood in Montreal, my friend Gemini II used to eat liver sandwiches with cream cheese (again, I believe I passed on that one).  The well-known duo of french fries and mayo always struck me as odd until I was served sweet potato fries with mayo at one of my favorite vegan restaurants  (which, of course, prompted me to head straight home and prepare spicy sweet potato fries with avocado mayonnaise, and now I’m hooked).  I’m sure you’ve got your own personal favorite fixings that, any disparaging comments aside, you adore nonetheless (and please feel free to ‘fess up in the comments section!).

Well, as some of you may recall, the HH and I have just a smidge of surplus mint around here this summer.  Yes, indeed, I’d venture to say that my garden is in mint condition!  I’ve been concocting as many beverages, appetizers, dips, entrées or desserts containing the stuff as my little hands can muster, and even thought I was doing pretty well until the other day when I stepped round the corner of our house and saw that those darned wanton herbs had been propagating over night–it appeared as if I’d used nary a leaf!

And so, by dint of mint, I was forced to come up with yet another recipe showcasing the stuff.  Which actually worked out perfectly, since Holler and Lisa’s No Croutons Required event this month requests a salad focusing on a favorite herb.  Well, if by “favorite,” they meant “so much that I could rip bagfuls from the yard and still have enough left to freshen the breath of the entire town of Gilroy, CA on July 25, 26 & 27th in the month of July”; or “so much that I will have to start using it as packing filler when I mail trunks of fine china or glassware across the Atlantic” or “so much that even the thought of mint makes me feel a bit queasy, which, as it turns out,  is actually okay, since mint helps to aid in proper digestion” or “so much that I will have to cook at least one dish with mint in it every single day for the forthcoming 11 months, until it sprouts up again next summer, just to use it up”–well, if that’s what they meant by “favorite herb,” then yes, mint is indeed my favorite, and definitely deserves to be featured in my submission to the event.  

I do enjoy a good fresh peach, but when I saw three of the fuzzy spheres nestled in our organic produce box a couple of weeks ago, I almost despaired.  A properly ripened peach is a wonderful thing, but there seems to be a terribly small window of maturity wherein peaches are at their apex of flavor and texture–firm, juicy and sweet-tart–before they quickly decline into dry, powdery mush. If not eaten precisely on the right day (sometimes the right hour), the peach becomes unappetizing at best, perhaps suitable for a sauce or baked good; at worst, it’s both tasteless and unpleasant, and destined for the compost bin.

Given the capricious nature of the downy stone fruits, I decided a salad would be the perfect context in which to combine it with other ingredients that could overshadow their potentially less-than-stellar consistency.  Mint was a given, of course, and for some reason, I felt that cucumbers would also suit the flavor palette.  The final addition was sweet corn kernels–partly because they just called, “pick me!” and partly because I thought the color would work well with all the other summer hues, which always elicit a desire in me for fresh fruits and veggies.

In the end, we both adored this random combination of ingredients and have now consumed it four times in the last 2 weeks.  The peaches are tart and luscious (and even the sub-par slices soak up the dressing and seem more juicy); the cucumber is cold, watery and mild; the corn is crisp and sweet; and the mint is pungent and peppery, all culminating in a perfect pastiche of color, flavor and texture.

It’s true, peaches, corn and mint may not have been born for each other; but their arranged marriage in this dish makes for one very harmonious union.  

Minted Peach and Corn Salad

This salad comes together quickly, resulting in a fresh, crisp, juicy, altogether irresistible side dish for almost any warm weather meal.  It’s best eaten right away, but will keep for a day in the refrigerator.

Dressing:

3 Tbsp. (45 ml.) rice wine vinegar

3 Tbsp. (45 ml.) extra virgin olive oil

1 Tbsp. (15 ml.) agave nectar

juice of 1/2 large lime

1/4 tsp. sea salt, if desired

1/3 cup (80 ml.) chopped fresh mint leaves

Salad:

1.5 cups (375 ml.) corn kernels, fresh (steam lightly if desired) or frozen (defrost but don’t cook)

1 medium cucumber, peeled, seeded, cut in quarters lengthwise and sliced

3 large, ripe peaches, washed, pitted and cut into slices

1/3 cup (80 ml.) unsalted cashews, lightly toasted

In the bottom of a large salad bowl, combine all the dressing ingredients and whisk together.  Add the remaining ingredients, toss well, and serve.

You know, there are days when I just marvel at how much my life has been enriched by joining the world of blogging. I’m amazed at how many positive experiences this little outlet for self-expression, culinary creativity and the occasional star-struck reference to my favorite soap opera has brought my way.

At the forefront, of course, is YOU–the readers and commenters.  What an inspiring group of compassionate, intelligent, witty and loyal people you are!  Thank you for coming back here on a regular basis; thank you for your thoughtful comments (I am, literally, thrilled every time I see one appear at the end of a blog entry–and they keep me coming back here, too); and thank you for your feedback and knowledgeable advice (I’m so excited to start cooking from my recently-acquired cookbooks, courtesy of your suggestions–yay Crescent Dragonwagon!).  Truly, a blog is a sorry, desolate place without its readers.

Along the way, I’ve also discovered many other blogs and bloggers, and what a revelation that has been. I was dumbfounded the other day when I realized there are now approximately 150 blogs on my Google Reader, and I seem to discover new and intriguing blogs every day (and I promise, they will all eventually make it to my blog roll).  Where were all these talented writers hiding before the advent of blogs?  Whether primarily for the recipes or mostly for the prose, I delight in reading every one and perk up each time Google informs me of a new post by a favorite blogger. Lately, I’ve been a bit remiss with my own comments on other blogs, but please know that I do read regularly and am enjoying all your posts!

Speaking of great bloggers, yesterday I had the unique pleasure of actually meeting another Toronto-area blogger, Giz from Equal Opportunity Kitchen .  As you’d expect from her posts, Giz is witty, sharp, and very, very funny. We chatted like two teenaged chums who meet up again at the 10-year high school reunion, gabbing and giggling and catching up on what we’ve been doing over the past decade.  In fact, our conversation flowed so smoothly and effortlessly that we were on our way out the door of the coffee shop before we realized we hadn’t even touched on the topic we’d ostensibly met to discuss–Giz’s “slimdown challenge” to me from a while back! Thanks, Giz, for a great start to my morning!

As many other bloggers have noted, blogging also forces enourages one to try out new recipes.  In her recent 100th post, VeggieGirl mentioned how each blog entry represents a new recipe (can it be that the HH and I have eaten 186 new dishes–not counting all those that don’t make it to the blog–since last October??).  And part of this impetus to cook novel food arrives in the form of blog events, another aspect of blogging that I thoroughly enjoy. 

These days, it seems there’s a new blog event posted almost daily; I sorely wish I could participate in all of them.  Unfortunately, my schedule at the moment prohibits too much experimentation in the kitchen.  It’s currently end of semester at the college and my marking, like all the ripe, luscious seasonal fruit, is at its peak.  I’ve got a stack of papers on my desk that just might trump the CN tower as the world’s tallest freestanding structure.  And while preparing foods for blog events is admittedly more colorful than marking essays (which involves only black and red, after all), it wouldn’t do to set aside the former for the latter (well, not too often, anyway).

Still, when I read about the Healthy Cooking: Eat Well, Live Well event hosted by Mansi at Fun and Food, I knew I had to submit something.  After all, isn’t the very raison d’être of this blog, more or less, “to create healthy, delicious foods”?  (That, and to provide The Girls a forum in which to air their observations and opinions, of course). 

(”Thanks, Mum, we appreciate that.  You know we HATE having our opinions squelched.”)

I thought about what to prepare, but my mind came up blank.  Then, while attempting to clear the non-marking clutter (eg., half-filled tea mug, empty water bottle, digital camera, sticky notes with recipe ideas, cookbooks previously used for blog entries, magazines previously used for blog inspiration, my checkbook, Bram Stoker’s Dracula [the novel, not the vampire], stray Chaser hairs, my journal, an anniversary card from the HH, and my calculator) off my desk the other night, I came across June’s issue of Cooking Light.  Where have I been living, under a rock or something? I mean, I’m aware there’s such as thing as zucchini bread, the moist and delectable quick loaf that’s a staple in many a baking household. I am also aware that your classic carrot cake is often studded with bits of juicy pineapple.  But zucchini and pineapple?  Together? It just never occurred to me.  Yet there it was, staring at me from the pages of Cooking Light.

The funny thing is, the magazine’s recipe was a “lightened-up” version of an older, original recipe, that contained 3 eggs, 1 cup oil, and 2 cups sugar.  The Cooking Light version cut back to 2 eggs (plus an additional 1/2 cup chemicals made to taste like eggs), 2/3 cup oil and 2 cups (2 CUPS!!) white sugar.  Granted, the recipe yields 2 loaves, but still–an entire cup per loaf?  Seemed a bit excessive to me.

And so, I decided to lighten the already-lightened version.  (Is that sort of like asking Michael Jackson to bleach his skin?)  Seemed to me I could accomplish a fine job of it by reducing the oil even more, and most definitely by reducing the sugar and replacing it with natural sweeteners instead.  My recent avocado kick provided yet another brilliant twist.  My ratiocination went something like this: zucchini is green.  Avocado is green.  Why not add some more green to the green, and use avocado purée instead of egg in this recipe?  Along with the Omega-3’s in the flax seeds, the avocado provides a good dose of monounsaturated fats to the batter, allowing me to reduce the oil even further. And so, my own idiosyncratic variation of zucchini-pineapple loaf was born.

The bread is fragrant with cinnamon, sweet with pineapple and soft, melting bits of chopped dates throughout.  The zucchini contributes a certain depth of flavor and even more moisture–in fact, this bread treads the very limits of moistness; any more moist, and it might not qualify as a solid.  The flavors meld and intensify once the bread is cooled and rested, so it’s even more tasty the morning after it’s made.  And like blogging, it will enrich your day with a healthy dose of sweetness and discovery.

Zucchini and Pineapple Mini Loaves

A healthy, hearty version of a heavier standard, this bread mixes up easily and is a great recipe for using up leftover zucchini, pineapple, or overripe avocado.  

5 ounces (150 g.) finely grated zucchini (fresh or previously frozen)

1/4 cup (60 ml.) avocado purée (fresh or previously frozen)

1/2 cup (100-120 g.) very well-drained crushed pineapple (drain first and then measure) 

1/2 cup (90 g.) Sucanat (unrefined brown sugar)

1/4 cup (60 ml.) pure maple syrup

2 Tbsp. (15 g.) finely ground flax seed

2 Tbsp. (30 ml.) sunflower or other light-tasting oil

1/2 tsp. (5 ml.) apple cider vinegar

1 tsp. (5 ml.) pure vanilla extract

generous 1/4 cup (35-40 g.) chopped dried dates

3/4 cup plus 2 Tbsp. (125-130 g.) light spelt flour

3/4 cup (90 g.) whole barley flour

1 tsp. (5 ml.) baking powder

1 tsp. (5 ml.) baking soda

2 tsp. (10 ml.) cinnamon

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

Preheat oven to 350 F (180 C).  Lightly grease 8 mini-loaf pans or muffin cups, or line with paper liners.

In a medium bowl, combine the zucchini, avocado, pineapple, Sucanat, maple syrup, flax, apple cider vinegar, vanilla and chopped dates.  Stir to mix well and set aside while you prepare the dry ingredients, or at least 2 minutes.

In a large bowl, sift together the flours, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, and salt.  Stir or whisk to distribute the leaveners and cinnamon throughout.

Pour the wet ingredients over the dry and stir just to blend (don’t worry if a few dry spots remain here and there).  Using a 1/3 cup measuring cup or large ice cream scoop, fill each tin about 3/4 full. 

Bake for 15 minutes, then rotate pan and bake another 10-15 minutes, until a tester inserted in the center comes out clean.  Allow to cool in pan for about 5 minutes before removing to a cooling rack.  Makes 8 loaves or muffins.  Store in airtight container in the refrigerator for up to 5 days (these taste even better the 2nd day). May be frozen.

[Red plums, white(ish) cake, blue(ish) other plums--Happy 4th of July!]

Our recent visit to Montreal last week, like most of our road trips, involved a hamper of food to stave off starvation en route.  As is my wont, the night before travelling, I basically ransack the kitchen and tote along anything that’s hardy enough to last the voyage. The list of provisions usually includes any leftovers from the previous two days, a stash of homebaked scones/muffins/bread, a container of homemade trail mix and any transportable fresh fruits or vegetables that would otherwise transform themselves into unrecognizable mush, green fuzz, or oozing fermentation if left to their own devices while we’re away.

Well, since Fridays mark our regular organic box delivery, and since we departed on a Saturday morning, there was plenty of produce to accompany us.  We returned the following Monday to a near-empty refrigerator.  I was poking around for a snack that evening when I first noticed it:  a plain brown paper bag propped on the counter, its wrinkled top curled under in a makeshift closure.  Feeling fairly certain that the HH hadn’t ordered something untoward off the Internet (or at the least, that he wouldn’t leave it on the counter in plain view if he had), I headed over to peek inside.  And then, with a pang of remorse, I remembered:  it was the bag of fresh plums from our organic box!

I’d completely forgotten the shiny, plump and purple spheres before we’d left, and they had started to wither a bit inside the paper bag (which, as you know, actually encourages fruit to ripen faster). They appeared to be nearing the end of any period of natural firmness left in them (sort of like Madonna’s face these days). What to do?

I could no longer eat them raw, but I was darned if I would toss them, either.  Our first plums of the season–I knew I just HAD to find a good use for them!  Besides, neither the HH nor I are huge plum fans, so we most likely wouldn’t have consumed them all in any case.  I figured I could make jam, but that seemed like a cop-out.  I could dehydrate them and convert them into prunes (the better for my recent diagnosis), but I’d just bought a 500-gram bag of the things the week before. 

I thought about it for a moment.  Then, as I tend to do when faced with most quandaries in my life, I opted for my usual course of action:  bake something.

I was sure I’d seen a recipe on one of the blogs I regularly frequent (the list now tops 150–must update that blogroll!), but when I did a Food Blog Search, I couldn’t find it again (though Dorie Greenspan’s version made several appearances). I had some extra cornmeal in the cupboard from another recipe I’d made (more on that in a later post), so decided to combine the two and form a hybrid of sweet cornmeal muffins and plum cake. 

I was very pleased with the final appearance of the experiment, sort of like a coffee cake studded with mounds of gorgeous, glossy purple and garnet fruit-gems.  Well, the cake looked pretty, but how did it taste?

I cut a huge hunk of the still-warm confection for the HH and trotted outside, where he sat, dogs panting at his feet on our patio, reading the outdated newspaper we’d forgotten to cancel before the trip.  

“Whoa, I can’t eat all that!” he wailed when he saw the size of the slice. “That’s way too much for me.”

“Don’t worry, that’s fine,” I acknowledged, “I’ll share it with you.  Just let me go inside and get my book.”

 I headed back inside to retrieve my latest read, Shopgirl by Steve Martin (Steve, man! There’s a reason for all those creative writing class clichés.  “Show, don’t tell. Show, don’t tell.” Did you miss the intro lecture or something?). By the time I returned to the yard, the HH’s plate was empty.   All that remained of the cake was a subtle smudge of pink juice and a few errant crumbs, the only evidence that the plate had ever held anything at all.

“Where’s the cake?”  I asked.  He shrugged a little, looking positively sheepish.

“It was so good, I just ate the whole thing,” he said.    

Now, how could I possibly balk at that?  Even as I headed back in a second time to rustle up my own slice, I was smiling. And I felt no regret whatsoever about forgetting those plums at home, after all.

Since Sia over at Monsoon Spice is asking for breakfast dishes with fruit for Weekend Breakfast Blogging (the event originated by Nandita at Saffron Trail), I’m sending this off to her.  (And I can assure you, this makes a wonderful breakfast!). 

Rustic Plum-Topped Cornmeal Breakfast Cake

Neither too sweet nor too delicate, this cake is perfect for breakfast or brunch as well as a summertime dessert.  If you prefer muffins, simply chop the plums after removing the pits and fold into the batter before spooning into muffin tins instead of the flan pan (and bake for slightly less time).

Cake:

1-3/4 cups (245 g.) light spelt flour

3/4 cup (135 g.)  cornmeal (preferably organic)

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

1 Tbsp. (15 ml.) baking powder

1/4 tsp. (1.5 ml.) baking soda

1 Tbsp. (15 ml.) finely ground flax seeds

finely grated zest of one small orange

juice of one small orange plus enough soymilk to equal 3/4 cup  (180 ml.)

1/3 cup (80 ml.) agave nectar

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

10-12 small fresh, ripe purple or red plums (not the European prune variety)

Glaze:

1 Tbsp. (15 ml.) extra agave nectar mixed with 1 Tbsp. (15 ml.) water, optional

Preheat oven to 350 F (180 C).  Lightly grease a flan pan or 9-inch (about 20 cm.) springform pan.

Cut each plum in half and remove the pit.  Place skin down on a plate or cutting board.

In a medium bowl, mix the flax, juice and soymilk mixture, zest, agave nectar and oil.  Whisk to blend and set aside while you measure the dry ingredients, or at least 2 minutes.

In a large bowl, sift the flour, cornmeal, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.  Pour the wet mixture over the dry and mix to combine.  Turn the mixture into the prepared pan.

Arrange the plum halves skin side down over the surface of the batter in a decorative arrangement.  Press the plums into the batter slightly.

Bake for 25 minutes, then glaze the top if desired (prepare the glaze while cake is baking).  Return the cake to the oven for another 10 minutes or so, until the top is golden and cake part tests done when a toothpick or sharp knife is inserted into it.  Serve warm or at room temperature.  Makes 10 servings.

[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 third entry, I'm focusing on Avocados. The series is presented on an occasional (and entirely arbitrary) basis, before I move on to the next lucky comestible.  Today's avocado-based recipe also happens to be quick and incredibly easy, the criteria for my Flash in the Pan recipes--so it straddles both categories!] 

Think smooth and creamy.  Think easy and delicious. Think sandwich spread, base for sandwich fillings, foundation for dips or savory pâtés.  Think avocado mayonnaise!

This incredibly quick and equally irresistible recipe comes from the wondrous Dr. Ben Kim’s Natural Health website.  A chiropractor and acupuncturist based in Barrie, Ontario, Dr. Kim is also a fount of information on all things holistic, and he offers incredible material about healthy eating–all for free through his newsletter, of which I am an avid fan (and no, I’ve never actually met the man, just in case you think there’s a little nepotism going on here–I just really think his info is great!).

I whipped up this mayo and enjoyed a daub on some steamed artichokes, but by the time I’d finished eating them, I knew I was hooked.  I plopped some over ripe, juicy slices of beefsteak tomato for a lunch appetizer and was enthralled.  After the first taste, I wanted to scoop this out of the bowl with a spoon (come to think of it, I did scoop this out of the bowl with a spoon).

You can use this as you would any other mayo, in sandwiches, wraps, salads (it would be heavenly thinned out just a little over field greens–turns out the recipe is very much like the avocado pesto salad dressing I posted about last March).

Avocado and Basil Mayonnaise

from Dr. Ben Kim

This creamy, heavenly spread can be used anywhere you’d use regular mayo.  I agree with Dr. Kim:  this is the best vegan mayo I’ve ever tried.

2 ripe avocados, halved, pitted, scooped out of skins, and cubed

large handful of fresh basil leaves

2 Tbsp. (30 ml.) extra virgin olive oil

2 tsp. (10 ml.) fresh lemon or lime juice

1 garlic clove, peeld and minced

sea salt and black pepper, to taste

Combine basil, garlic, and a pinch of sea salt in a small food processor and blend until ingredients form a paste.

Add avocados and process until smooth. Blend in oil and lemon or lime juice, and then season with salt and pepper.  Makes 4-6 servings.

Other posts in this series:

• Lucky Comestible III: The Perfect Guacamole
• Lucky Comestible III (2): Decadent Chocolate Pâté
• Lucky Comestible III (3): Mango Avocado Salad
• Lucky Comestible III (4): Lentil Pistachio Patties
• Lucky Comestible III (5): Tropical Lemon-Coconut Muffins

[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 third entry, I'm focusing on Avocados. The series is presented on an occasional (and entirely arbitrary) basis, before I move on to the next lucky comestible. ] 

Summer is definitely the season of romance.  I mean, all those couples strolling along the Harbourfront, hand in hand. . . starry nights and waves crashing against the sand at the Beaches. . . candlelit dinners on the back patio under the moonlight, just you and your sweetheart. . . and the black flies. . . and the mosquitoes. . . and the spiders. . .  Hmm.  Well, all those couples strolling along the Harbourfront, hand in hand . . .

Doesn’t everyone love a little romance once in a while? I used to think that romance meant roses and chocolate, but nowadays I know better.  Now I realize it’s just chocolate. 

In my previous lifetime (long before the HH), my Starter Husband  was a natural when it came to romance; he was one of those guys who’d secretly light candles and strew rose petals around the bathtub (which was filled, naturally, with Chanel Number 5 Bubble Bath) while I was out shopping because he saw it in a movie somewhere.  Or I’d open a Christmas present to find a pair of handcrafted tiger’s eye earrings he’d bought, because I’d admired them while strolling through an outdoor bazaar the previous July.  Yes, he was a “romantic,” in the classic sense (still didn’t save the marriage, though). 

Most of us are familiar with the studies about husbands who “help out” more in the domestic areas of the home (washing dishes, doing laundry, cleaning floors, etc.):  they’re also more likely to get lucky in the other areas (read: bedroom) of the home.  In those cases, romance is something else entirely:  it’s the ability to tune in to the ongoing, mundane demands or stresses facing your loved one and to help alleviate some of the pressure by reducing the workload. I mean, we all know there’s nothing quite so sexy as a guy with his hands in a sink of soapy dishes, right?  

The HH is definitley not romantic in the classic sense–I think he’s bought flowers for me twice in the eleven years we’ve been together, and those only under duress–but he sure does shine in the “sharing housework” department.  (I know, I’ve mentioned his lack of cooking prowess before, and it’s true, he loathes cooking; but he does make a great kitchen hand, and if I had to count up household chores, I’m certain he takes care of more of them than I do). 

The HH’s style leans more toward Harry’s in When Harry Met Sally–the guy you love to talk to, the one whose silly jokes make you laugh despite yourself, the one who’s steady and good natured and helpful, even if he does miss a few cues when it comes to your desire for sentiment or being sappy. 

And what prompts me to feel romantic toward my guy?  Well, seeing him on his back on the floor (really, get your minds out of the gutter, people!), rolling around with The Girls and a pull toy (well, actually, I guess that last sentence out of context could be interpreted “that way,” couldn’t it? Lord knows what search terms will lead people to this post, now I’ve written that).  Though he’d probably never admit it out loud, the HH is head-over-tail in love with our dogs.  And recognizing that devotion always sparks my own romantic inclinations towards him. (”We’re pretty cool with it, too, Mum.”)

Although it’s true I’ve bought Christmas gifts the HH had admired months before, in general I tend toward more quotidien romantic expressions such as leaving notes in lunch bags, offering to do dishes when it’s his turn, or baking things for him that I know he loves. 

Which brings me–finally–to today’s recipe. (I know, you were wondering how I’d work it in, weren’t you?)

One of the HH’s favorite flavors is coconut.  Alongside a good hunk of Decadent Chocolate Pâté, coconut cream pie is his all-time favorite dessert.  For his birthday each year, I let the HH choose any dessert on the planet and I will make it for him; among the Toffee Hazelnut Pound Cake, the Opera Cake, the Layered Mocha Mousse Cake and all the others over the past eleven years, the only repeat so far has been coconut cake.  What could be better (or more romantic), then, than a baked good that’s both healthy and coconut-based?

As I mentioned in the first post of this Lucky Comestible series, avocados can be used as egg substitutes in baking.  When I first learned of this option, I experimented with a huge variety of recipes, from cookies to cakes to muffins.  In general, the avocado isn’t detectable if the other flavors in a recipe are fairly assertive to begin with (as in the aforementioned chocolate pâté), but in lighter bases (such as vanilla), you may sense a hint of the buttery green purée. In addition, the avocado will impart a touch of color to the final product (though strangely, it bakes up more yellow than green).

The result of my kitchen playtime was these muffins, a great combination of coconut and lemon.  They’re extremely moist, both tart and sweet, and have become one of the HH’s favorites. When you mix up the batter, however, don’t be alarmed by the brilliant Day-Glo green color–the magical alchemy that is baking will transform it into a deep, rich, lemony yellow that is a perfect visual representation of the intense lemony flavor. 

Next time you want to express your love toward the object of your affection, trying baking these. . . and then, who knows what type of romance might ensue? 

I’m also submitting this recipe to A Fruit A Month, the event started by Maheswari of Beyond the Usual and this month hosted by Suganya of Tasty Palettes.  This month’s focus is coconut.  The roundup will be posted after June 30th, so head over to take a look after that!

Tropical Lemon-Coconut Muffins

Moist and filling, these are the perfect breakfast or snack.  And because the avocado already contributes monounsaturated fats, these don’t require any added oil! 

1/2 cup (125 ml.) avocado purée (may be previously frozen)

1/2 cup (125 ml.) agave nectar

juice of one lemon plus enough water (if necessary) to equal 1/4 cup (60 ml.) liquid

2 tsp. (10 ml.) fresh lemon zest (about one lemon)

3/4 cup (100 g.) whole barley flour

1/2 cup (65 g.) whole oat flour

1 tsp. (5 ml.) baking powder

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

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

1 cup (80 g.) shredded unsweetened coconut

Preheat oven to 350 F (180 C.).  Line a 6-cup muffin tin with paper liners, or spray with nonstick spray.

In a small bowl, combine the avocado, agave nectar, lemon juice and lemon zest.  Mix until smooth and evenly blended.

In a medium bowl, sift together the flours, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.  Stir in the coconut.

Pour the wet mixture over the dry and stir quickly to blend (it will begin to fizz and bubble right away; this is as it should be; do not overmix, as this will result in flat muffins).  Use an ice cream scoop or a 1/3 cup (80 ml.) measuring cup to fill the muffin cups about 3/4 full (these don’t rise very much when baking, so the height of the muffins when raw is what they’ll look like when baked as well).

Bake in preheated oven for 20-25 minutes, rotating pan halfway through, until a tester inserted in the centre of a muffin comes out clean.  Cool for 10 minutes before removing to a cooling rack. Makes 6 large muffins.  These freeze beautifully.

Other posts in this series:

• Lucky Comestible III: The Perfect Guacamole
• Lucky Comestible III (2): Decadent Chocolate Pâté
• Lucky Comestible III (3): Mango Avocado Salad
• Lucky Comestible III (4): Lentil Pistachio Patties
• Lucky Comestible III (6) Meets Flash in the Pan:  Avocado Mayonnaise

[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 third entry, I'm focusing on Avocados. The series is presented on an occasional (and entirely arbitrary) basis, before I move on to the next lucky comestible. ]

Since today was the first Sunday following my Total Health course (and I promise–that’s the last time I’ll mention it!), I realized it was time to resume my regular Progress Tracker entries. 

It’s been nine whole weeks since I had a regular Sunday weigh-in, so this morning, I donned my sweats and and finally returned to the workout club (Well, hi again, Elderly Gentleman Who Always Wears Black Knee Socks! I’m back, Burly Guy Who Stares at Women’s Breasts Between Sets!  I actually missed you, Septuagenarian Couple with the Matching T-Shirts!).

After completing various stretches and weights, I performed the official post-course, ritual weigh in.  And the result?  After NINE WEEKS of eating healthfully and stepping up my exercise routine (literally–I’ve doubled the amount of walking I do each day since the osteopenia diagnosis), I lost. . . . are you ready for it?  Okay, here goes. . . . I lost. . . . FOUR POUNDS. 

Yep, four. Quatre. 4. Vier. Quattro. IV.  Tessera. FOUR!!!!  In nine weeks.

Lovely, no?  That’s just under half pound a week.  Okay, I suppose that’s not awful considering that the goal of the course was not to lose weight so much as to learn about healthy eating and to undergo an attitude adjustment in that area.  During the course, I consumed just as much (healthy) food as I wanted to and never deprived myself in any way (except during the cleanse week, obviously).  What this means is that I am now exactly back where I started when I began this blog–with 40 pounds to lose to reach my goal.  And while I do feel better since taking the course, that’s simply not acceptable.  Nope.

And so. . . I’ve decided to take up the challenge offered by Gizmar from Equal Opportunity Kitchen, who wrote in her recent comment: “Ok, I’m throwing down the gauntlet - I want to lose some weight - I challenge you to a slim down!!!”  Giz, you’re on! Ah, but how much weight?  And in what time period?  I will contact you so we can work out the details.  But for now, I’ve decided, it’s time to get serious! (Again).  Watch out, excess avoirdupois!  Take a hike, jiggly thighs! Run for the hills, cellulite!  I am  on a mission.

* Sigh. *

(Okay, end of weight rant.  We now return to this week’s regularly scheduled Lucky Comestible.)

One thing I realized while on my cleanse week is that I don’t eat nearly as many legumes as I should.  Sure, if you consider peanut butter and carob, I suppose there’s a regular intake, but in general, my diet is sorely lacking.

As a child, the only beans I was ever served were the canned variety.  Heinz Baked Beans made a quick and yummy dinner, just on their own.  (Of course, my mother bought the “in tomato sauce” flavor so she wouldn’t have to deal with that one pasty, white, slimy chunk of pork fat that always rose to the top of the can.  A few years ago, the HH and I took a course called Mini Med School at the University of Toronto. One evening, we were led down winding, clandestine hallways through an unmarked door into the actual anatomy lab, where we examined formaldehyde-infused hunks of human limbs, their outer layers peeled away to expose the muscles and bones underneath.  One thigh had a rectangular chunk of flesh carved out, the cutout placed neatly on the counter beside it like a rubber bathtub stopper.  Well, that little cube of pork fat looked just like the rectangular hunk of thigh. Good move, Mom.)

When I moved into my very first apartment the summer before my Master’s program began, my father’s housewarming gift to me was a smoked ham. (Not so strange if you consider that he owned a butcher shop–what else would he give me?).  With the help of my trusty Joy of Cooking, I ended up making split pea and ham soup (even then, I couldn’t stomach the idea of an entire piece of ham on its own).  I had just started dating my first true love a couple of weeks earlier (hey, Spaghetti Ears!  How’s tricks?) and he, along with his two room mates, kindly relieved me of any superfluous soup–which, as it turned out, was pretty much all of it.

It’s not that I don’t enjoy bean dishes, either.  It’s just that I never really think to make them.  In more recent years, I’ve amassed a fairly reliable roster of bean recipes that I use on a rotating basis.  There’s hummus, of course, but also sundried tomato hummus and roasted garlic hummus.  Oh, and I can’t forget white bean hummus or fava bean hummus or even no-bean hummus (which, come to think of it, doesn’t really belong in the “dishes with beans” category, does it?). The HH and I also enjoy lentil-spaghetti sauce about twice a year, as well as my version of Tuscan baked beans (with olive oil and sage) and a classic three-bean salad in the summertime. Other than that, though, it’s pretty much hummus all around.

Well, I decided it was time to create something new and interesting with legumes.  In keeping with the focus on avocado, I naturally gravitated toward the green legumes–or, more correctly, “legume”: lentils.  Besides being one of the quickest to cook (they’re done in only 25 minutes, with no soaking required), lentils also provide a substantial contribution to your daily mineral requirements. In addition, they’re extremely high in fiber (both soluble and insoluble, important for healthy cholesterol levels), and they’re known to help keep blood sugar levels steady. Oh, and they taste really good!

I seized the green theme and just ran with it (okay, I kind of “speed-walked” with it), throwing pistachios into the mix as well.  In these patties, the avocado acts as an egg substitute, while the nuts and beans work in tandem to provide a complete protein.  While they’re not overly “meaty” in texture (the outside is crispy while the inside remains soft), these burgers are great either baked or fried, and would probably make a tasty loaf as well.  Just for fun (and because I’m weird that way), I baked half the recipe and browned the other half in a frypan. I have to say that I actually preferred the baked version, which also held its shape better. 

These patties are a great way to subtly add more legumes to your diet. And if you happen to be watching your weight–well, as it turns out, they’re pretty low-cal, too (about 150 calories each patty).  Shall we start with these for dinner, Giz?

Lentil Pistachio Patties

These substantial patties offer a full-bodied flavor with a wonderful protein content, courtesy of the lentils and pistachios. The trio of avocado, olive oil, and pistachio adds richness and a healthy dose of  heart-healthy monounsaturated fats.

1/2 cup (60 g.) shelled natural pistachios

1 medium carrot, trimmed and cut into chunks

1 medium onion, peeled and cut into quarters

2 cloves garlic, roughly chopped

2-1/4 (560 ml.) cups cooked green lentils (about 1 cup dry)

2 small ripe Hass avocados (300-320 g. unpeeled), peeled, pitted and cut into quarters

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

2 Tbsp. (30 ml.) extra virgin olive oil

1 Tbsp. (15 ml.) tamari soy sauce

1/2 tsp. (2.5 ml.) ground coriander

1 tsp. (5 ml.) ground cumin

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

2/3 cup (160 ml.) old-fashioned rolled oats (not instant)

If you’ll be baking the patties rather than frying them, preheat oven to 375F (190 C).  Line a baking sheet with parchment or spray with nonstick spray.

In the bowl of a food processor, whir the pistachios until coarsely chopped. Add the carrot, onion, garlic, and cooked lentils, and process until you have a fairly smooth purée.  Add the remaining ingredients except for oats and process to combine well.

Turn the mixture into a large bowl and stir in the oats. Allow to sit for 5 minutes.

If you’ll be frying the patties, preheat a nonstick frypan over medium heat. 

Scoop about 1/3 cup (80 ml.) of the mixture per patty. 

If frying: Place the patties in the frypan and flatten slightly.  Cook 4-6 minutes per side, until deep golden brown.  Gently remove to a platter or place in hamburger buns with desired toppings.

If baking:  Place the patties on the baking sheet and flatten slightly.  Bake in preheated oven 30-40 minutes, until deep golden brown.  If desired, flip the patties over about halfway through baking (though this isn’t absolutely necessary). 

Serving suggestions:  lettuce, tomato and hummus; sliced red onion, ketchup, and a sprinkling of nutritional yeast; or lettuce, chutney and mustard. 

Makes about 12 patties.  These may be stored tightly wrapped in the fridge up to 4 days (they firm up even more after the first day).  May be frozen up to 3 months.

Other posts in this series:

• Lucky Comestible III: The Perfect Guacamole
• Lucky Comestible III (2): Decadent Chocolate Pâté
• Lucky Comestible III (3): Mango Avocado Salad
• Lucky Comestible III (5): Tropical Lemon-Coconut Muffins
• Lucky Comestible III (6) Meets Flash in the Pan:  Avocado Mayonnaise

[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 third entry, I'm focusing on Avocados. The series is presented on an occasional (and entirely arbitrary) basis, before I move on to the next lucky comestible. ]

[Sorry about the poor focus. . . that free point-and-shoot camera of mine has been rather uncooperative lately. Maybe time to bite the bullet and finally buy a real camera?]

Well, last Wednesday evening was our final Total Health class.  As it’s been all along, the meeting was terrific, though this final gathering wasn’t about education so much as eating.  We were split into groups of three or four people and asked to cook up a couple of recipes each; then we all sat down together and devoured the feast we’d made.  It was a great way to end the course in a social, relaxed fashion.  When the end of session arrived, no one wanted to leave!  We lingered and chatted for an extra 45 minutes before finally filing out of the house (sorry about that, Caroline).  And so, the question remains: what now?  Do I continue to consume my fruit-and-vegetable, raw-leaning diet?  Or do I slide like a 300 ZX on black ice, right back to my chocolate and high-grain days? 

That, my friends, is the 64,000 Calorie question.  Only time will tell, dear readers, only time will tell. . .

But in the meantime, I sure am going to give it my best shot.  And with salads like this one, veggies and fruits never tasted so good.

This is my own adaptation of a Thai-inspired salad the HH and I had many years ago at a cooking class we attended.  The class was a birthday present for my friends Gemini I and Gemini II (whose birthday, as it turns out, is on the same day!) about ten years ago.  Six of us cooked together and then shared our meal (sort of like Wednesday’s class, come to think of it, except the Thai meal wasn’t nearly as healthy).  I’m not sure why, but I still have a crystal clear vision of the HH that long-ago night, as he chopped onions, sliced mango and juiced limes. . . hmm, perhaps because that was the last time he voluntarily chopped onions, sliced mango, or juiced limes?  Oh, no, silly me–he juices limes all the time; you need those for gin and tonics. 

Anyway, the original salad didn’t contain avocado, of course, but one day I just threw it in, and it made such a perfectly compatible addition to the mix that the mangos and avocados have been keeping company ever since (they’re practically engaged by now).  I’ve also tinkered a little with the seasonings over the years to create what I think is the perfect dressing for this salad.  In fact, the combination of tastes is so summery, so refreshing and so tantalizing that I’ve even been known to eat this salad for breakfast (What? Fruit for breakfast is good for you!).  I use a combination of mint and cilantro, but if you’re not a fan of either, you can leave it out.  (And if you’re short on mint, feel free to drop by my place and grab some from the massive waves of green beside the house–see right). 

Besides tasting great, this dish offers a sweet treat for the eyes as well.

As I mentioned earlier, avocados are a fantastic source of heart-healthy monounsaturates.  But mangos are no slouch in the hale-and-hearty department, either; they’re rich in antioxidant vitamins C and beta carotene, fiber, and potassium.  With all these cardiac benefits, I’ve decided to submit this recipe to Ilva of Lucullian Delights, who is hosting her monthly Heart of the Matter event featuring heart-healthy salads this month. 

Mango Avocado Salad

This refreshing salad combines all five flavors common in Thai cooking: sweet, sour, salty, bitter, and spicy, in perfect proportions.  Great as an appetizer or side salad, this dish is best eaten fresh–though we’ve never had leftovers to worry about in our house, anyway!

1/2 red onion, chopped fine (or use white onion and rinse it under cold water to remove the “bite”)

1 clove garlic, minced

1 Thai chili, finely chopped, 1/2 jalapeno, finely chopped or 5 drops Tabasco sauce

1 Tbsp. (15 ml.) extra virgin olive oil

1 Tbsp. (15 ml.) rice wine vinegar

juice of 1/2 lime

2 Tbsp. (30 ml.) agave nectar

1 tsp. tamari or soy sauce

3 Tbsp. (45 ml.) chopped fresh mint

1 Tbsp. (15 ml.) chopped fresh cilantro, or more to taste

1/3 cup chopped toasted cashews or peanuts

2 large ripe mangos, peeled, pitted and sliced

2 large ripe avocados, peeled, pitted and sliced

Place everything except mango and avocado in the bottom of a salad bowl and stir to mix well. 

Using a vegetable peeler with a zigzag motion, peel the mango, then cut the flesh into small slices.  Place in bowl with dressing.  Peel and pit the avocado and cut into similar small slices; add to the bowl.

Toss everything gently until the fruits are coated with the dressing.  Serve immediately. Makes 6 appetizer or 4 regular servings.

Other posts in this series on avocados:

• Lucky Comestible III: The Perfect Guacamole
• Lucky Comestible III (2): Decadent Chocolate Pâté
• Lucky Comestible III (4): Lentil Pistachio Patties
• Lucky Comestible III (4): Tropical Lemon-Coconut Muffins
• Lucky Comestible III (6) Meets Flash in the Pan:  Avocado Mayonnaise

[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 third entry, I'm focusing on Avocados. The series is presented on an occasional (and entirely arbitrary) basis, before I move on to the next lucky comestible. ]

Want to wow your boss?  Want to thrill your sweetheart?  Want to get addicted to something rich, dense, smooth, chocolately and truly decadent?  Well, all you need is an avocado plus 3 more ingredients, and you’re there. 

This pâté will dazzle you, seduce you (but not in the same way as Mark Bittman), soothe you and make you very, very happy.  This is my HH’s all-time favorite dessert (well, maybe on a par with coconut cream pie).

Last year, when the HH and I went out to our favorite restaurant for our 10-year anniversary, we reached the end of the meal when I found myself suddenly craving chocolate (my, how unusual!).  For some reason that night, the always-stellar dessert menu lacked anything that appealed to me.  But here’s the sign of an exceptional establishment:  when I mentioned my desire to Tony (our waiter–we were on a first-name basis by that point), he apologized profusely for the menu’s shortcoming, swiftly and deftly cleared our plates, and trotted off to get the HH’s coconut cream pie (okay, he didn’t really order coconut cream pie, but since I can’t remember what he did actually order and since I just mentioned that coconut cream pie was a favorite of his, I thought it would sound good here. . . I plead literary license).

A few moments later,  Tony returned with two plates of dessert–the pie for the HH, and a selection of three exquisitely formed chocolate truffles for me.  The chef had whipped them up with some ganache he had prepared for another dessert!  I was blown away, not only by the astonishingly good service, but also by the truffles themselves: light, smooth, and soft as a butterfly’s touch.  I savored every bite, every deep, rich, cacao-dense tidbit. 

Well, that’s what this pâté reminds me of–the filling in those truffles.

I created this recipe several years ago for a cooking class on heart-healthy foods, and was delighted to discover that both avocados and dark chocolate provide benefits to our body’s main muscle.  Avocados are high in monounsaturated fats (the same heart-healthy fat touted in the “Mediterannean diet,” also in olive oil), and chocolate contains flavonoids that can improve cardiovascular functioning by preventing atherosclerosis (hardening of the arteries).

The taste of avocado is imperceptible in this dessert, yet it adds a rich, creamy, lustrous texture.  The orange juice provides sweetness and additional flavor to counterbalance the chocolate perfectly (hmm, come to think of it, perhaps Grand Marnier in place of some of that juice would be nice. . . ).  Once refrigerated, the pâté firms up enough to hold its shape and cut into slices, yet it remains soft and yielding, something of a cross between a fudge and a ganache. 

Because it actually provides most of the substance of the pâté, be sure to use a good quality dark chocolate here.  If you’re feeling extravagant, you might try Vogzes.  I’ve used Green and Black’s, Dagoba, Endangered Species, Lindt, Vivani, and even President’s Choice in a pinch (can you tell we like this dessert in our house?), all with delicious results.

Want a little preview of life beyond the pearly gates?  Go make this.

(Since this pâté is my very healthy version of a traditional chocolate pâté made with sugar, cream, eggs and butter, I’m submitting this to Giz and Psychgrad’s event, Tried, Tested and True II, over at Equal Opportunity Kitchen.  They’re asking for surefire hits that are made healthier than original versions.)

Finally, thanks to everyone who’s entered the Cookbook Contest so far.  And if you haven’t, what are you waiting for??  It’s open to everyone, and you can win one of eight cookbooks! Just go here and enter!

This pâté tastes incredibly rich, but is actually good for you.  A little goes a long way, so I’d advise cutting into thin slices. . . otherwise, I can’t be responsible for what happens.

1-1/4 cups (7 oz. or 210 g.) nondairy dark chocolate (70% cocoa is best), chopped

1/4 cup freshly squeezed (essential!) orange juice (remove larger pieces of pulp)

1 small ripe (but not squishy) Haas avocado, peeled, pitted and cut into chunks (about 110-120 g. flesh)

2 Tbsp. (30 ml.) pure maple syrup

1 tsp. (5 ml.) pure vanilla extract, optional

Line three individual-serving loaf pans (about 2″ x 4″ or 5 cm.  x 10 cm.) or a single small loaf pan (about 4″ x 6″ or 10 cm. x 15 cm.) with plastic wrap.  Set aside.

Place chocolate in a heatproof glass or metal bowl and set over a pan of simmering water.  Melt together with the orange juice and maple syrup, stirring frequently, until perfectly smooth.

Meanwhile, in a food processor, purée the avocado, making sure to scrape down the sides so there are no lumps.  Add the chocolate mixture and vanilla and purée until perfectly smooth, creamy, and glossy.  It will have the texture of an old-fashioned cooked pudding–thick and almost glutinous. Turn the mixture into the pan(s) and smooth the top(s).  Refrigerate about an hour until the top is just firm, then cover the top with more plastic and refrigerate overnight.

To unmold,  remove the top piece of plastic.  Place a serving plate upside down onto the loaf pan, then, holding the plate against the pan, turn the whole thing over so the pan is on top and the plate is on the bottom.  Remove the loaf pan, then carefully peel off the plastic.  To cut into slices, use a long, sharp knife that has been dipped in hot water and wiped clean between slices.  A little goes a long way–one individual-serving loaf will serve 3-4 people (or 9-12 servings for the entire batch of pâté).  Serve with fresh berries, cream, or other fruits.

The pâté will keep, refrigerated and covered with plastic, up to 4 days.  If you can’t finish it all in that time (or don’t want to gain excessive amounts of weight), simply wrap the leftovers tightly with plastic and freeze for up to 3 months.  This is also quite lovely when frozen (not that I’d know, of course–that’s what I’ve been told). 

Nutritional Analysis, per 1/9 of recipe (data using Nutrition Analysis Tool): Calories: 148; Protein: 2 g.; Fiber: 1.5 g; cholesterol: 0 mg.; Saturated Fat: 5 g.; Monounsaturated Fat: 1.5 g.

Other posts in this series:

• Lucky Comestible III: The Perfect Guacamole
• Lucky Comestible III (3): Mango Avocado Salad
• Lucky Comestible III (4): Lentil Pistachio Patties
• Lucky Comestible III (5): Tropical Lemon-Coconut Muffins
• Lucky Comestible III (6) Meets Flash in the Pan:  Avocado Mayonnaise

*Or, Do I Dare To Eat a Chilled Peach Soup?

Well, I’ve just completed my second day on my Total Health cleanse, also known as the Grain Drain.  

(I must interject here just to say thank you to everyone for your great comments, suggestions and encouragement–I am truly blown away by all the positive wishes and love hearing from you all. And it makes a huge difference to know that the support is out there!)

After two days of eating this way, I’m feeling a tad self-reproaching.  You see, so far, I’ve found the diet nowhere near as difficult as I’d anticipated.  In fact, it’s been downright easy–one might go so far as to call it enjoyable, even. (I know–I was shocked, too!)

I mean, what could be wrong with a fresh and juicy Earth Bowl for breakfast?  Or a classic Three-Bean Salad for lunch?  In order to keep my blood sugar levels steady, I’ve been munching on nuts and seeds, baby carrots, prunes (or, as they’re now called, dried plums) and wee bits of Cocoa Nibbles. I feel lighter and my allergies seem to be diminishing.  Whoo hoo!

And then, most unlike Eliot’s eponymous poltroon, I most certainly did dare to eat a peach.  Several, actually, all blended into a smashing soup. That, followed by a serving of Red Pepper stuffed with Raw Asian Pâté, (recipe in a future post), and dinner was rather spectacular.  So, let us go then, you and I, and I’ll fill you in on all the details of Chilled Peach Soup with Cashew Coconut Cream.

Last week, on one of those grey days when the fog rubs its back upon the window-panes, we received a true harbinger of summer: four plump, downy, rosy peaches in our organic produce box. I was so thrilled that I devoured one immediately before I realized there will be time, there will be time to eat more of them throughout the summer. 

As it happened, I’ve been on a bit of a library kick lately.  Maybe it’s the ever-increasing tower of unread magazines that waits patiently in the corner of my office; maybe it’s my newfound frugality; maybe it’s the fact that I had to go get this month’s book (About Alice by Calvin Trillin) for my book club; whatever the reason, I found myself at the local library and decided to drop by the cookbook section.  And there, after reading a variety of recipes (the dishes measured out in coffee spoons), I happened upon The Artful Vegan by Eric Tucker et al.

Tucker is executive chef at the famed Millenium restaurant in San Francisco, one of the very first vegan restaurants to introduce elegant, exciting and innovative cuisine for vegans (and one of the places on my list of “must-visit”s).  I did have the enormous pleasure of sitting in the audience while Tucker demonstrated several recipes a few years ago at the inaugural Vegetarian Awakening conference; it was a revelation to watch him tame a tomatillo, pipe aïoli, or wrangle a fennel bulb. Everything he made was visually stunning and entirely delectable.  (And even after the sampling, the cups, the marmalade, the tea–it would have been worthwhile. Oh. . . perhaps it’s the perfume from his Five Spice Watercress that makes me so digress? ). 

Many of Tucker’s recipes are multi-faceted, multi-tiered, multi-stage affairs that require three days of preparation and innumerable specialty utensils to accomplish; the true appeal of his cookbook is that it allows you to gaze in awe at the culinary gymnastics his creations represent.  And yet, as luck would have it, about midway through the book was a recipe for a chilled peach soup with a rosewater cashew cream.  And best of all–it was perfectly accessible to a home cook! I bit off the matter with a smile, thinking this soup would definitely be worthwhile. 

Preparing the soup couldn’t be easier–if not for the cashew cream accompaniment, I would certainly designate this a Flash in the Pan recipe–and it is entirely transporting when you taste it.  

I made quite a few changes to the original recipe, so I’ll print my own version here.  The soup is intensely fruity, with a slight sour note balanced by the hint of sweetness in the cashew cream topping.  It is entirely refreshing on a smoldering summer day.  This soup fairly hums “summer.”  And even though there’s nothing in it that The Girls must avoid, this soup was too good to share. 

(”Yes, Mum, I did hear the peach soup singing.  But I do not think that it will sing to me. . . it did look good, though.”)

Okay, enough with the Prufrock. . . just don’t get me started on Nabokov’s peach reference!

Since this recipe hails from a truly “gourmet” cookbook and is also extremely low-cal (only 53 calories per serving, according to The Artful Vegan), I thought it would be the perfect submission to the  Fat Chefs or Skinny Gourmets event, hosted by Ben of What’s Cooking and Ivy of Kopiaste’.  They’ll be posting a roundup at the end of the month.

 Chilled Peach Soup with Cashew Coconut Cream

With an irresistible deep coral color and light, refreshing flavor, this soup is the perfect first course to a cool summer meal.  It would also be great as a breakfast soup.

Cashew Coconut Cream:

1/2 cup (125 ml.) raw cashews

1 tsp. (5 ml.) light miso

1/4 tsp. (1.5 ml.) ground nutmeg

1/4 tsp. (1.5 ml.) pure coconut extract

1/2 cup (125 ml.) plain or vanilla soymilk

Soup:

4 large ripe peaches, washed

juice of 1 large orange

juice of 1/2 lemon

1 tsp. (5 ml.) finely grated ginger

1/4 tsp. salt (optional)

Make the cream:  In a blender, blend the cashews, miso, nutmeg, coconut extract and about half the soymilk until almost smooth. Scrape down sides.  Add remaining soymilk and blend until perfectly smooth and velvety.  Pour into a container and refrigerate until needed. If cream thickens too much after being refrigerated, thin out with a bit more soymilk or water.

Make the soup: remove pits from peaches and coarsely chop the flesh (Tucker suggested blanching them and then removing the skins, but I preferred them skin-on, both for the added color and fiber).  Place the peaches along with the remaining ingredients in a blender and blend until smooth.  Refrigerate the mixture at least 3 hours, or until well chilled.

To serve, pour the soup into four bowls or mugs.  Spoon about one tablespoon (15 ml.) of the cream over top, and garnish with mint leaves, if desired. (These days, everything we make is garnished with mint leaves).  Makes 4 servings.

The home I grew up in could very well have been the original inspiration for the mantra, “Reuse, Repair, Recycle.” My dad, the quintessential progeny of The Great Depression, still saves everything from empty jam jars, to twine from UPS boxes, to old socks, to almost-moldy tomatoes, and puts them to use again in some other context (pre-Nalgene vessel to transport iced tea on a road trip; means to repair broken screen door latch; protection for hands while emptying garbage; and lunch, respectively). Seems I’ve earned my title as Femme Frugal honestly.

Besides, I’ve always considered myself pretty eco-friendly, being the bag-saver, container-reuser, water-conserver and late-night clothes washer that I am.  With all the talk of eco-consciousness, carbon footprints, 3 R’s and whatnot these days, I fully expected I’d eventually go ”green”; I just never imagined it would be quite in this way. 

You see, our lives have been overtaken by green. Each time I glance out the window at the side of my house, leave via the front door, or stroll round toward the back yard, I’m confronted with GREEN. Mint green, that is. Yes, the DDD household has been invaded by rogue gangs of wandering mint, all vying for supremacy in the ‘hood.

Mint abounds. . . .Mint surrounds. Mint embraces us with its color and scent, tickles us as we tiptoe through the grass, envelops us at every turn.  We are circumscribed by mint.  Yes, dear readers, you were all so right (or, as the HH often translates it from the French, “You have reason”) about that gypsy mint! My days are now lived from within an undulating, leafy, lush sea of green.  Inhaling the verdant aroma from the garden, my mind reels with a heady intoxication (almost as intoxicated, I imagine, as Obama’s fans were last evening after that rousing, pre-victory speech).

Oh, and you know what else?  We’ve got no shortage of mint around here.

So, what to do when you’re inundated with a tasty but not overly utilized herb?  You improvise, that’s what.

Sunday morning, with the weather finally warming up, I thought I’d prepare a refreshing, cooling and nourishing drink for the HH, who was still fairly wilting from the effects of his cold (and, come to think of it, a looking a little green himself).  Fresh fruit is a great option for anyone suffering from weakened immunity, as it digests fairly easily and quickly, without taxing the system too much.  I had just the idea.

Around here, our freezer tends to house a variety of frozen fruits at any given time.  As I’ve mentioned before, even though we choose the smallest organic produce box for delivery each week, often there’s still too much fruit for two of us to consume in a mere seven days.  As a result, I end up chopping and then freezing chunks of overripe mango, pear, banana, grapes, or even (as I did a couple of weeks ago), watermelon for later use.  These frozen cubes generally work beautifully in smoothies or when I want to whip up some nearly-instant sorbet.  Sunday, I opted for a smoothie.

I had been thinking about Mojitos ever since Russ mentioned them in a comment last week, but since I have no interest in drinking alone (I know–how un-writerly of me), and since the HH wasn’t up for alcohol (unless I was going to rub it into his congested chest), I took the general concept of citrus + mint and ran with it.  Rummaging through the various containers of frozen fruit, I uncovered both pear and watermelon, which I imagined would offer a refreshing sweetness without an overpowering flavor (as banana, for instance, might).

Don’t let the intense grassy color deter you–the taste is just right, not too sweet, with a lovely minty flair. It’s refreshing and fairly light, so if you’re thinking “breakfast,” this is the type of smoothie that works as a beverage alongside  your main meal rather than as a beverage instead of your main meal. It would also make a lovely postprandial sip (and maybe even better with a splash of rum–I’ll have to save that version for when the HH is feeling better). 

And, of course, with all this mint (plus the other great fresh fruits) that it contains, how could I not submit this to Kalyn’s Weekend Herb Blogging, this week hosted by Maninas at Food Matters?

Mint Smoothie

This is a cooling, refreshing drink that would be great for a hot summer’s evening, or served in a big bowl at a Bar B Q.  (And iwhat a fun challenge to convince your friends to drink something this green!)

1 cup soymilk (or try using part coconut milk for a creamier drink)

4-6 fresh mint leaves

2-4 Tbsp. agave nectar

1/2 cup pear chunks, frozen

3/4 cup watermelon chunks, frozen

2 lettuce leaves (or not; your choice)

juice of 1/2 lime

1 Tbsp. smooth cashew butter

Place all ingredients in a blender and blend until very smooth.  Garnish with fresh mint leaves, if desired. Drink immediately.  Makes 2 servings.

Note: if you are using fresh rather than frozen fruits, you may add 4-6 ice cubes to the mixture before blending, or refrigerate the smoothie before drinking.