[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 (5): Tropical Lemon-Coconut Muffins
June 23, 2008
[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 (4): Lentil Pistachio Patties
June 22, 2008
[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 (3): Mango Avocado Salad
June 20, 2008
[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 (2): Decadent Chocolate Pâté
June 18, 2008
[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
June 17, 2008
[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. ]
Some foods are just acquired tastes–sort of like scat, living in the suburbs, or Quentin Tarantino films. I know that avocados work that way for many people, but that wasn’t my experience. Like eggnog or chocolate, avocado was one food I knew intuitively that I’d like, even before that first buttery, golden slice ever slid across my tongue.
In my teens, I used to walk to high school each day with my friend Phil. We’d meet at her place (about halfway between my house and our school) where she’d usually invite me in for a breakfast bite. It was in her mother’s white and gold formica-clad kitchen that we learned to love coffee together (stage one: 1/2 cup coffee, 1/4 cup water, 1/4 cup cream and 5 sugars. Stage two: 4/5 cup coffee, 1/5 cup cream, 1 teaspoon sugar. Stage three: eliminate sugar. Stage four: Congratulations; you’re hooked for the next 30 years, until that ulcer/heart condition/high blood pressure diagnosis, and then you go back to “no coffee”.)
While at Phil’s place after school one day, her mother (who was born in Belgium, and was therefore very glamorous) introduced me to avocados. The rough, gravelly exterior, greenish black skin and ovoid shape all seemed very exotic to this apple-and-banana gal. But as soon as she cut the fruit open, removed the glossy pit, and proffered a halfmoon slice, I was forever hooked on the smooth, velvety texture and slightly nutty, slighty sweet flavor.
(Apart from foodstuffs, Phil and I also learned to smoke cigarettes together, two giggly fifteen year-olds strolling round deserted parks after dinner, attempting to inhale, and–between fits of sputtering coughs–singing, “They. . . asked me how I knew. . . my true love was truuuuuue. . .“ But that’s another story).
To me, avocados are a nearly perfect food. Technically a fruit (sometimes called the “alligator pear”), they are used more often as a vegetable, and almost always raw. A few years ago, though, I read a magazine article about authentic Mexican cuisine. I found out that, in addition to being tossed into pretty much every salad or salsa, the avocado is also used sometimes in that country in cold soups and even cakes. Wow, I thought, what a great idea! With the extra healthy fats (and monounsaturates can stand up to low heat pretty well) as well as the fiber, avocados would make a terrific egg substitute in baking!
So I started playing and came up with a few baked goods (and I promise to share later in the series) as well as a cold soup–perfect for summer (recipe to follow as well). If you feel like playing with avocado as an egg substitute, use it the way you would tofu (1/4 cup avocado purée = 1 egg). Or simply add about 2 tablespoons puréed avocado to any baked good for added moistness.
Whether your preference is the crinkly Haas or the smooth-skinned Fuerte variety, an avocado is ripe when it “gives” slightly to soft pressure with your thumb or finger (be sure to press at the top of the fruit to avoid bruising the flesh). Most avocados are sold before they’re ripe and require 2-5 days at room temperature before they’re ready to eat.
Once ripe, however, they don’t last long–a day or two at most–before they reach the overripe, slightly fermented, stage (you know an avocado is past its prime if it starts to smell a bit like wine). If you can’t consume them once ripe, they’ll keep another 2-3 days, unpeeled, in the refrigerator. When I find myself with an overabundance of ripe avocadoes, I simply peel, purée, and freeze in one-cup containers for later use (frozen pulp is perfect for future dips and spreads, those baking experiments, or even added to pasta sauces later on). Frozen avocado should keep up to five months.
Avocados are also incredibly healthful–they aren’t a staple of Mexican cuisine for nothing! Brimming with heart-healthy monounsaturated oils, they are a good source of fiber, potassium (great to counteract high blood pressure) and vitamin K, essential for blood and (of particular interest to those of us with osteopenia) bone strength. They also contain a good dose of lutein, an antioxidant found mostly in green leafy vegetables that’s been shown to contribute to eye health and even help reduce the effects of macular degeneration (a disease of the eyes in which central vision is slowly erased).
And today’s recipe? Well, guacamole is one of those iconic foods that regularly makes an appearance at end-of-semester pub bashes, summer Bar B Qs, surprise birthday parties, or work pot lucks; I simply couldn’t do a series on avocados without including this classsic dip.
The first time I tried guacamole, I was at an end-of-semester party thrown by my friend Carol, a legendary hostess known for her ability to draw crowds of disparate personalities who, for the course of an evening (and often into the wee hours of the morning), all got along over beer, wine, and literary discourse.
Carol and her husband always included their two children (then aged 9 and 11) in every social activity, so the kids would meander quite comfortably among the professors and graduate students, stopping every now and again to chat with the bearded hippie sucking back a Becks or the the raven haired T.A. in the inappropriate tank top who was hitting on our Drama professor. Completely unfazed, the children might stop for some corn chips and guacamole, then move on. Around 10:30 or 11:00, they’d wander upstairs to their bedrooms, where they’d doze entirely undisturbed by the din beneath them, like babies in the neonatal ward who can all sleep through their own wailing.
Carol’s guacamole that night was spectacular, and I knew I’d have to make it again. I clipped this recipe from an old Chatelaine magazine from the 1990s, and I’ve never even tried another since. I do realize that everyone and their hairstylist has a fabulous recipe for guacamole, but this really is the best one I’ve ever tasted. The unusual step of rinsing the onion (which removes any pungency that might linger on the palate hours later), elevates this version to one of the all-time best recipes I’ve ever made.
With its prominent use of cilantro, this is a great entry to Kalyn’s Weekend Herb Blogging event, this week hosted by Joanna at Joanna’s Food.
Oh, and there’s still time to enter the contest for a new cookbook–which might just contain a new recipe for guacamole!
The Perfect Guacamole
I used to think that guacamole required garlic to taste this delicious, but this recipe proved me wrong. The contrast between the chunky tomato and smooth, rich avocado is stellar. Add more cilantro if you’re a fan.
1/4 cup (60 ml.) finely chopped white onion, rinsed in a sieve under cold water
1 medium ripe (but still firm) tomato, diced small
2 Tbsp. (30 ml.) chopped fresh cilantro (or more, to taste)
2 tsp. (10 ml.) finely chopped jalapeno pepper, with seeds
1/2 tsp. sea salt
2 ripe Haas avocados, pitted and peeled
1-2 (15-30) ml. freshly squeezed lime juice, or more to taste
Combine onion, tomato, cilantro, jalapeno and salt in a small bowl. In a large bowl, coarsely mash the avocado (a potato masher works well for this–you want a few chunks to remain). Add the onion mixture and lime juice and stir to mix well. Serve immediately with tortilla chips or raw vegetables, if desired. Or, just eat with a spoon.
Can be made ahead, covered, and refrigerated up to 4 hours; press plastic wrap against the top of the guacamole before refrigerating, to minimize oxidation. Makes about 2 cups (500 ml.).
Other posts in this series:
It’s a truism when discussing the era of flower children and Woodstock to say, ”If you remember the ’60s, you probably weren’t there.” When it comes to the 1980s, however, those of us who lived through it are more likely to lament, ”I remember it all–if only I could forget!” Still, the Era of All Things Excessive (also known as the “Me” Decade) did have its touchstones.
Let’s see: if you (a) know what a “social X-Ray” refers to; (b) can name the performers who sang “Ebony and Ivory“; (c) own one of the original Cabbage Patch Dolls; (d) know where Expo ‘86 took place; and (e) have seen the only movie in which Julia Roberts was actually any good, then you, like I, were most likely cognizant of the 1980s–like it or not.
And yet, I can’t help but feel nostalgic for those times. I mean, how can anyone forget the heady 80s, with their typical Yuppie motto of ”More is More”? As a PhD student on her own in the Big City of Toronto, it was in the 80s that I finally became comfortable perceiving myself as an “adult.” Working as both a don in residence and a teaching assistant at university, I supported myself while studying and carrying on an active social life, as only someone in the early throes of adulthood can do. With a built-in social network (three of my close friends from childhood had already moved here years before) and PhD seminars filled with interesting new classmates (as well as the occasional crush), I was happy to spend my time memorizing Beowulf by day, then taking on the town by night.
80s urban professionals were regularly amused by showy sportscars, massive parties, both private and public (raves made their appearance in the 80s), big hair (remember Boy George?), big fashion (ah, yes, Amazonian shoulder pads) and even bigger earrings. I recall encountering a colleague in the hallway at work one day, feeling pretty snappy, bedecked as I was with a pair of my favorite gold-wire earrings. He took one glance my way and sniped, ”Wow, how’d you get those hamster wheels to stay attached to your earlobes?”.
Ah, yes, pretty much everything from the 1980s was excessive and self-indulgent. And the food? Oh, my, the food. . . .
The 1980s were epitomized by everything rich, from Gordon Gekko to Double-Chocolate-Hazelnut-Caramel-Cream Cheesecake. Foods were elaborate and multi-layered, and nobody ever worried about saturated fat, cream, too much red meat, organic, or whether the tiramisu was made with whole-grain ladyfingers. No one had ever heard of Omega 3s, let alone ingested them, and restaurants were just getting their fingers wet with the new food architecture that mandated aesthetics over taste. In those days, I’d spend hours cooking and baking for dinner parties, multiple courses and desserts that could, on their own, drain the stock of an entire dairy farm for a day.
One of the best-selling cookbooks of the time was The Silver Palate Cookbook, by Julee Rosso and Sheila Lukins. Two regular New York gals who’d made a name for themselves by operating one of the most successful little gourmet shops in the city’s history, these women finally collaborated on a cookbook and were instantly rewarded with an overwhelming, almost cult-like following.
Like most of my friends, I possess a well-worn copy of the maroon and white-covered tome, its edges fraying a little and pages splotched with grease stains. From the side, my book appears to have donned a jagged, fringed winter scarf, as little strips of sticky-notes, marking recipes I wished to try, peek out from almost every page. One in particular, Chicken Marbella, was cooked so many times that I had to replace the sticky note on more than one occasion.
Well, for some reason, while I lay supine in bed for ten days, my mind kept wandering back to that darned Chicken Marbella. Maybe I was a little delirious; maybe the muscle relaxants brought with them delusions of poultry; or maybe I was just ravenous since I couldn’t get up to feed myself, subsisting on the meager, dried-out muffin the HH left on the bed each morning before he trotted off to work. Whatever the catalyst, I craved that dish. So, as soon as I was up and about, I pulled out my trusty copy of The Silver Palate, and set about adapting.
The original recipe turned out to be slightly different from what I remembered (in my idealized version, it was aromatic with a variety of Moroccan spices, rather than the lone oregano it does contain), but it was still alluring. Certain that quinoa would partner perfectly with the other ingredients, and after a little tinkering, I came up with this recipe.
I must tell you, this was astonishingly good. Next time, I’ll begin with a little more quinoa and chickpeas, as the original marinade was aimed at 4 chickens (I’ve adjusted the recipe, below, accordingly). As in the original dish, the unconventional combination of baked prunes and olives is spectacular, and the quinoa provides a perfect base to soak up and then showcase the flavorful marinade. Even if you’re not normally a fan of prunes, I think you will enjoy them here.
I love this dish as a main course casserole, but the HH still yearns for the chicken and prefers this as a side dish. He ate it, sighing, wishing aloud that if only we’d met in the 1980s when I was still throwing elaborate dinner parties with dishes like Chicken Marbella or some excessively rich cheesecake, he could have sampled the “real” recipe.
But of course, that would never have happened. Even if, by some weird karmic commingling of our (then) diametrically opposed lifestyles, we had actually met back then, the HH would have taken one glance at my bouffant hairdo, while I took one glance at his erstwhile “business associates,” and we would both have run screaming in opposite directions. It wasn’t until the end of the 90s, after having both matured considerably, that fate ultimately brought us together with a coup de foudre. . . followed, inevitably, by our current calm, somewhat predictable, and rather domestic existence.
Amazing, isn’t it, what changes just one decade can bring?
With its fragrant oregano, olives, and prunes, this dish is my submission to Kalyn’s Weekend Herb Blogging, this week hosted by Jai and Bee of Jugalbandi.
Tagine of Quinoa with Chickpeas, Olives and Prunes
Adapted from this original recipe in The Silver Palate Cookbook
Slightly sweet, slightly salty, and warmly spiced, this dish is a delectable treat. Because it is rather rich and filling, if served as a main course, a simple, light salad would be the perfect accompaniment.
6 cloves garlic, minced
2 Tbsp. (30 ml.) dried oregano
1 tsp. (5 ml.) coriander
pinch cloves
3 Tbsp. (45 ml.) red wine vinegar
1 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil
3/4-1 cup (250 ml.) prunes, to your taste
1/2-3/4 cup mixed pitted olives, to your taste
3 Tbsp. (45 ml.) capers, with juice
3 bay leaves
1/3 cup (80 ml.) Sucanat or brown sugar
1/2 cup (125 ml.) white wine (I used an Australian Chardonnay)
2 cups (500 ml.) cooked chick peas (garbanzo beans)
1 cup (250 ml.) dry quinoa
1 cup vegetable broth or stock
1 cup water
Preheat oven to 325F (175 C). Grease a tagine (clay baking dish), a ceramic casserole, or rectangular cake pan.
Combine all ingredients in the casserole or pan, and cover. Bake in preheated oven for 40 minutes, then stir and check liquid levels. If the quinoa isn’t yet cooked and it looks like the liquid is almost completely absorbed, add another 1/2 cup water (I found that using more vegetable broth made the mixture too salty for my taste). Cover again and return to the oven for another 20 minutes.
Check again. Continue to add water, 1/4 cup at a time, baking for 10-minute intervals, until the quinoa is fully cooked and all liquid is absorbed. Serve hot. Makes 4 main servings or 6 side dish servings.
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 (5): Apple-Quinoa Cake
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
Lucky Comestible II (3): Quinoa-Oatmeal Croquettes
April 9, 2008
[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. ]
You guys are too funny!
I would never have guessed that my silly little comment about quotation marks at the end of yesterday’s post could spark so many witty comebacks. Well, quotation marks be damned! Now that I’m officially *back,* I’ll just have to reach waaaay %back % into my punctuation quiver and pick out a few other sharp marks and symbols. And so, right ++BACK++ at ya!
For now, though, I must hold myself >bAcK< and will no longer tap my spinal woes as a source of humor (though the original Spinal Tap, on the other hand, provides its own endless source of punny laughs). And now, let’s get back to today’s Lucky Comestible!
If you’ve read my blog for any length of time, you’re likely already familiar with my penchant for breakfast foods. The morning repast is, unequivocally, my favorite meal of the day. So how could I go through five different recipes featuring quinoa and NOT include at least one targeted breafast dish?
I’ve already covered a baked good with the Almond-Quinoa Muffins; today, I’ve repurposed Lisa’s amazing Quinoa and Oatmeal Croquettes recipe for a breakfasty-sweet usage rather than the delectable savory meal (smothered in a rich mushroom sauce) that she originally wrote about. Luckily, the recipe is super-easy and employs ingredients I already had on hand, so I was able to whip these up without having to head to the supermarket, which would have undoubtedly strained my finances patience relationship (Oh, just SAY IT:) BACK .
I’ve always thought of croquettes as somewhat pear-shaped orbs that sit under a thick slathering of creamy sauce. As a kid, my mom sometimes made chicken croquettes, which involved grinding, mixing, and shaping the mounds of seasoned chicken before rolling them in breadcrumbs and baking them, after which they were doused with à la King sauce (ie, canned cream of mushroom soup) that had a handful of frozen peas thrown in. Representative of the times, but hardly worth the effort, I always thought.
When I saw Lisa’s recipe, I was a little surprised at the form of these croquettes. Like that iconic fast-food hamburger, they were square rather than round; and like the proverbial bank heist-without-a-hitch, they were almost too easy: simply cook up, spread in pan, then cut into shape. I suppose I could have used a cookie cutter to approximate a rounded shape, but why bother? Who said croquettes have to be round, anyway?
What I like about these little darlings is that the quinoa is very evident–not a co-star, but the main attraction. The oats, while present, don’t really determine much of the overall flavor; rather, they seem to bind the croquettes together instead. The mixture reminded me very much of a polenta in texture and preparation; but the taste was, to my mind, very well suited to breakfast.
And so, still limited by the few ingredients I actually had in the house after the GBR, I pulled out some homemade cranberry preserves as a topper and set about heating these in the griddle for breakfast. I was very well rewarded with a nubby-textured, moist and chewy croquette highlighted by the occasional crunch, courtesy of sesame seeds sprinkled over top. The slightly sweet, slightly tart jam was the perfect accompaniment. These would also be divine with maple syrup, I think. Oh, and mushroom sauce (as Lisa suggests) too, of course.
Quinoa-Oatmeal Croquettes
from Lisa’s Vegetarian Kitchen
Quick, hearty, and substantial, these are the perfect breakfast bites. If you’re in a hurry, you can even wrap them up and take them along. And, as Lisa suggests, they make a great base for a savory sauce, too.
1 cup dry quinoa
1 cup rolled or steel-cut oats (I used rolled oats)
3 cups water
1/4 tsp. sea salt
sesame seeds, as needed
olive oil, as needed
If desired, rinse the quinoa to remove the bitter outer resin (I didn’t bother, as I assume most quinoa these days is pre-rinsed; but if you want to be safe, go ahead). Place in a glass casserole or pan along with the 3 cups water, cover, and soak overnight in the fridge.
The next day, grease a 9 x 9 inch square pan with olive oil or nonstick spray. Pour the mixture into a medium-sized pot and stir in the sea salt. Cook over medium heat, stirring frequently to prevent scorching, until it has the consistency of a thick porridge, about 25-30 minutes.
Pour the mixture into the prepared pan, smooth the top, and sprinkle with sesame seeds. Refrigerate at least 20 minutes, to let the mixture cool and firm up (I left it for about 4 hours). Cut the mixture in to cubes of desired size (I cut the contents of the pan into 20 small cubes).
Lightly oil a frying pan with the olive oil, and fry the cubes on both sides until golden brown and crispy on the outside. Transfer to a plate and serve with fruit preserves of your choice. Makes 4-5 servings. Will keep for 4 days, covered, in the fridge.
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): Tagine of Quinoa with Chickpeas, Olives and Prunes
Lucky Comestible II (5): Apple-Quinoa Cake
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
Lucky Comestible II (2): Almond-Quinoa Muffins
March 26, 2008
[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. ]
Well. So. It snowed again yesterday. Actually, it stormed; we got about 5 cm. (2 inches) to add to the–what? 478 cm? 792 cm? 14 kilometers?–pre-existing snow already piled in mini-glaciers beside every driveway, walkway, sidewalk, and garage. And there I was, once again stuck in the house, avoiding the pelting flakes and ice pellets.
I imagine this is what it feels like to live in perma-frost, constantly surrounded by the white stuff with no end in sight. I feel exactly like Captain Robert Scott must have felt on one of his forays to the South Pole, holed up with his companions in his ice-shack as refuge against the elements. Just as he did in his famous diary, I could easily write an entry something like this:
Bitter storms accosted the crew today, forcing the team to head indoors. We huddle by the makeshift fire and attempt to warm our weary, frostbitten hands. Thrashing winds surround us at every turn. All but forsaken in this frigid terrain, we have but each other and the dogs for company. Poor mongrels, even they refuse to venture outdoors in this accursed weather. But tomorrow, if the winds permit, we shall harness them up and commence the hazardous trek anew. . . .
Okay, well, not exactly like Scott, as I’m actually writing on a computer, not by hand with pen and ink on paper in sub-zero weather. Oh, and I’m in a heated brick house in a modern city of 5 million people, not an ice shack. Oh, with electricity. And some organic, vegan spelt cranberry-pumpkin scones and a hot cup of mint tea beside me. And I’m not a couple thousand kilometers from the nearest sign of civilization.
But other than that, just like him.
What this blasted weather stirs up in me (besides the propensity to write like a 19th Century Antarctic explorer) is a longing for breakfast foods. Since my dad worked at his store 6 days a week, he was out of the house by 6:30 AM on Saturday mornings. During the winter, The CFO and I would fend for ourselves at breakfast and let our mom sleep in (once she returned to bed after making breakfast for our father).
Our self-sufficiency wasn’t exactly the most healthful (I seem to recall feasting on saltines, peanut butter, and chocolate milk as we watched Saturday-morning cartoons), but it was comfort food to us. These days, any breakfast fare spells comfort to me; when it’s cold outside, I want to eat pancakes, muffins, scones, omelettes, or even baked oats.
Well, these quinoa muffins, adapted from a recipe in Veganomicon, fit the bill perfectly. Hearty yet slightly sweet, filling yet not too heavy, they are satisfying and sufficient to warm the spirit and the belly. And full of nourishment for energy to brave the elements again, when you’re finally ready to lace up the sled dogs and hit the expedition once more.
(”Um, Mum, you’re not actually thinking of hooking us up to a sled, are you? Because, you know, it’s pretty cold out there, and our paws are rather delicate. . . we really hate getting them all full of ice and snow if we don’t absolutely have to.”)
Almond-Quinoa Muffins
Adapted from Veganomicon
I adapted these by using spelt flour and chopped dates, since I had no apricots on hand. These are dense and pleasantly chewy; the quinoa does make its presence known, however, so beware that you will taste it in the mix. I think these would be outstanding with the suggested apricots as well.
1 cup vanilla soymilk
1 Tbsp. ground flaxseeds
1/4 cup sunflower or other light-tasting oil
1/4 cup agave nectar or pure maple syrup
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1 cup light spelt flour
1/3 cup whole barley flour
1/4 cup almond meal or almond flour
1/2 tsp. baking soda
2 tsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp. sea salt
1 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp. ground cardamom
1-1/4 cups cooked quinoa
1/2 cup finely chopped dates
Preheat the oven to 350F (180 C) and lightly grease 12 muffins cups, or line with paper liners.
In a medium-sized bowl, whisk together the soymilk and flax; allow to sit for one minute, then whisk in the oil, agave, and vanilla.
In a separate large bowl, sift together the flour, almond meal, baking soda, baking powder, salt, and spices. Add the wet ingredients to the dry, mixing until just incorporated. Gently fold in the cooked quinoa and the apricots and mix until only the large lumps are gone.
Pour into the prepared muffins tins, filling about 3/4 full, and bake for 20 to 22 minutes until a tester inserted into the center of a muffin comes out clean. May be frozen.
Other Posts in this Series:
Lucky Comestible II (1): Quinoa Salad with Buckwheat and Cranberries
Lucky Comestible II (3): Quinoa-Oatmeal Croquettes
Lucky Comestible II (4): Tagine of Quinoa with Chickpeas, Olives and Prunes
Lucky Comestible II (5): Apple Quinoa Cake
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
[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. ]
I remember very clearly the first time I tasted quinoa (pronounced keen-wah): there was I, barely having reached the other side of twenty, at an English Department party at the University of Windsor. As a Teaching Assistant studying toward my MA degree, I had leaped at the chance to attend, not only because this was my very first opportunity to enter the Inner Sanctum of the faculty club, but also because I’d been harboring a raging crush on my Modern American Drama professor and I knew he’d be there.
As it turns out, no, my sophomoric infatuation never made it beyond the fantasy stage; luckily for me, as John later became my beloved mentor, who (along with the wife he adored–drat!) welcomed me into his home, and spent countless hours in serious discussion with me at the local university pub, where I’d regularly spill my dreams, aspirations, academic anxieties and beer; and he’d regularly dispense sage advice, sympathy, pedagogic pointers and beer–for the next two decades or so.
One of the other TAs, a placid, floaty woman (in the way that 1950s housewives on Valium were placid and floaty) brought two dishes to the party buffet table that day: carob brownies (though lacking any gratuitious “hippie” ingredients as you might have found in chocolate brownies of that era, if you get my drift); and a quinoa-veggie salad. I loved both dishes as soon as I tasted them, and resolved immediately to reproduce both in the shoebox kitchen of my bachelor apartment.
The carob brownies were fairly easy to replicate (even though Ms. Floaty refused to give out the exact recipe); it was the quinoa that turned out to be the greater challenge. Most of the ingredients were fairly obvious to the naked eye–celery, green onion, cucumber, tomato. And I could easily approximate a similar oil and vinegar dressing. But what had me stumped was the grain itself, the star of the salad–the quinoa.
Feeling confident that I could maneuver my way around pretty much any grain, I boiled the little cream-colored beads exactly as I would pasta, in an overabundance of fresh water. I should have known there’d be trouble when I attempted to drain the stuff in a colander, only to discover that half or more of the quinoa pearls had fallen through the holes and down the drain. Adding insult to incompetence, when I finally scraped together the remaining 2 tablespoons of the mixture and sampled it for donenes