Minted Peach and Corn Salad
July 18, 2008
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.
[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 (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: 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:
Graduation Party: A Sweet Ending, and Nostalgia Meme
June 13, 2008
I can hardly believe that my Grain Drain detox week is already at an end (that, and the fact I’ve posted a measly TWO food-related blog entries about it!).
The dearth of recipes this past week was due, in part, to an incredibly hectic schedule–there was a multitude of student assignments to mark (strange how the mountain of marking on my desk seemed to keep growing of its own accord, like a bizarre form of paper parthenogenesis or something); an unexpected, last-minute baking order to fill (birthday cakes are fun, but they do take time); and my regular monthly book club a couple of nights ago (lovely, as always–such a pleasure to chat with the gals–but turns out we were all a bit disappointed with Trillin’s tribute to his wife, tender as it was.)
Another reason for the paltry recipe output has been my own shift in appetite during the past week. Even though I consumed three squares and several snacks a day, I was drawn to old, familiar dishes for the most part, and felt no impetus to experiment in the kitchen. Whether this change in attitude is connected to the cleanse or not, I have no idea. I did, however, cook up one or two worthwhile grain-free dishes, so I will definitely share those in drops and dollops over the next while.
Some of you have asked how I felt during the cleanse. Overall, it was a success. There were some expected–and some highly unexpected–results.
As with any cleanse, I went through a bit of a detox reaction for the first couple of days, though nothing as dramatic as my first healing crisis a decade ago. I felt fatigued, a bit lethargic, and experienced a few mild cravings for the first day. Then, somehow, the toggle switch governing consumption was flicked and I was able to spend the rest of the week happily ingesting only those healthy foods I’d selected for the cleanse: fresh and dried fruits, vegetables, nuts, seeds, and beans/legumes (or pulses, depending on your geographical location).
In general, my diet consisted of the following types of foods: for breakfast, I might have fresh fruit and nut butter (or nuts and seeds), alternating with freshly squeezed vegetable juice or a smoothie (and the occasional Earth Bowl). Lunches consisted of salad with more nuts/seeds if I felt hungry; snacks were fruits and vegetables or some kind of raw bar or nibble; and dinner was typically a cooked dish with vegetables and/or nuts or legumes. I kept the meals relatively simple–perhaps my body was telling me I needed simplicity in at least one area of my life this week!
By day three, I was feeling lighter and more energetic. Congested sinuses–a constant companion for as long as I can remember–cleared considerably, and I was able to breathe clearly for the first time in months. (That outcome alone has got me wondering whether I’m harboring undiagnosed allergies to grains.)
Now, for the unexpected. I must admit I was entirely amazed at how easy the process felt (and if you’ve read my blog before, you know that avoiding chocolate and sweets is generally anything but easy for me). After the first few cravings, I was able to virtually forget about chocolate and simply eat good, hearty, nourishing foods. At the same time, my portion size seemed to shrink all on its own volition, almost without help from me. I feel certain I’ve lost some weight, if only a milligram (will report on the Progress Tracker at the end of the course).
I did experience a couple of odd detox reactions, however. According to Paul Pritchard (as well as many other holistic practitioners) in Healing with Whole Foods, the liver is the seat of anger in the body. In other words, mess with the liver and you might just stir up some pretty unattractive emotions. Well, I’m here to report that yes, the theory happens to be true! As my liver was flushed of toxins, my emotional fuse shrank along with the portion sizes and I’m afraid I snapped at the poor HH on more than one occasion (The Girls, of course, were left unscathed). Now I understand why people run off to spas to detox–at least they won’t take out their burbling anger on their families that way!
It appears that another odd effect of eating healthfully–and I’m loathe to admit this–is that my sense of humor has temporarily gone MIA. (I know, I know; that sounds too much like the stereotypcal ”grunchy granola,” dour and pasty-faced, terribly gaunt and proselytizing vegetarian that carnivores envision when they hear the word, “vegan.” Well, lucky for me, I’ll never be accused of that transgression–no one in their right mind would ever call me “gaunt”!). I’m not quite sure where it’s hiding, but the rapier wit seems to have departed with the chocolate this past week (oh, please, please do NOT tell me there’s a correlation between the two, that one relies on the other to exist. A choice between humor, or chocolate? That would be a choice as agonizing as Sophie’s.)
In any case, to acknowledge my “graduation” from the cleanse, I prepared one very special raw dessert: Raw Milky Way Bars. I first spied these on Terilyn’s The Daily Raw Café about a month ago and immediately knew I’d have to try them. They seemed the perfect finale to a great week of healthy eating–a little decadent, but still rife with wholesome raw nuts, dates, and natural sweeteners.
And they were, indeed, thoroughly enjoyable, though I’d add a little caveat if you plan to try them. While the flavors were astonishingly good (and very close to what I recall as the original mix of flavors in the candy bar), the chocolate coating firms up only when fully frozen–and begins to thaw immediately upon removal from the freezer (or, perhaps, this was simply a function of our humid, 31C–about 88F–temperature here today). No problem there, as long as you eat the bars straight from the freezer.
However, if you (as I do) prefer the nougat and caramel at room temperature, you’re out of luck; you’ll end up with a cube of yummy nougat dripping with slick, sticky chocolately coating. In fact, I found the nougat filling, a mix of powdered nuts and agave nectar, to be so enticing on its own that I plan to use it as a filling in regular chocolates, made with a bittersweet chocolate coating. But that’s for another day.
In the meantime, I thought I’d close with a play on the “graduation” theme and join in the fun prom meme introduced by Alicia at Grumpy Chair Dieter. She suggests that we all pull out our prom photos and post them.
Well, unfortunately, I couldn’t find my prom photo (aww, gee, and I so wanted to share it!). Instead, I managed to suss out this ancient photo (taken before the advent of digital cameras–gasp!) from my “Sweet 16″ party (hmm, now I wish I had found the prom photo. . . ).
Yes, that is I, braces and all. Dig that dress! Dig that hair! Perhaps most shocking of all–I considered myself “obese” at the time. These days, I’d be thrilled if my thighs were as small as my waist was then. Thanks, Grumpy Chair, for prompting me to browse through those old photos and get some perspective!
Have a good weekend, all. And now, I’m off to go eat some grains!
Raw Milky Way Bars (from The Daily Raw Café)
Reminiscent of the chocolate candy bar of the same name, these are actually pretty good for you. I made 1/3 recipe (I was afraid I’d eat them all otherwise), and it worked out just fine.
Nougat Filling:
1 cup (250 ml.) raw almonds, unsoaked (dry)
1 cup (250 ml.) raw cashews, unsoaked (dry)
3 Tbsp. (45 ml.) agave nectar
1 Tbsp. (15 ml.) water, or more if needed
Caramel Topping:
1 cup (250 ml.) dry unsweetened dates
1/4 cup (60 ml.) pure maple syrup
juice of half a lemon
1 Tbsp. (15 ml.) coconut oil
1/4 tsp. sea salt
1 cup (250 ml.) water (I used much less–it would have been watery otherwise)
“Milk” Chocolate Coating
1 cup (250 ml.) pure cocoa powder
1 cup (250 ml.) pure maple syrup
1/2 cup (125 ml.) coconut oil, melted
1/4 cup (60 ml.) water
Soak the dates in the water and lemon juice for an hour. Drain and reserve soaking liquid. Meanwhile, make the nougat.
Nougat: In a coffee grinder, grind the cashews in small batches into a fine powder. Remove. Process the almonds the same way.
Place the nut powders in a large bowl. Add the agave and water, and mix with your (clean) hands until the mixture is thick and paste-like. (Fun to lick it off your fingers, too!)
Place a piece of plastic wrap on a cutting board. Form the nougat into a long rectangular bar on top of the plastic wrap. Place the board in the freezer for an hour.
Caramel: To make the caramel, process the soaked dates, coconut oil and sea salt in a blender. Use the soaking liquid, one tablespoon at a time, to soften the mixture as you blend. Blend until you achieve a thick creamy mixture.
Spread the caramel in a long strip on top of the nougat (use a knife or offset spatula to spread it evenly across the top of the rectangle). Return to the freezer while you prepare the chocolate.
Chocolate: In a large bowl, whisk together the cocoa powder, maple syrup, and coconut oil together until smooth and creamy.
Pour the chocolate over the candy pieces and freeze an additional hour or until the chocolate sets. Use any extra chocolate to drizzle patterns over the tops of the bars. Yields 15-20 small bars.
Old Reliables: Salads You Can Count On
June 10, 2008
Years ago, I visited a career counsellor to determine the profession best suited to my personality (turns out I should have been a Human Resources professional or a researcher). Part of the assessment was a test in which you enumerate your ten most prominent personality traits. To help me decide, the counsellor suggested I ask friends or family members who knew me well for their ideas, as they’d be better able than I to assess my personality objectively.
The trait that surfaced most often for me was “reliable.” It took a while to get over being slightly offended by the label; I’ve since come to understand that ”reliable” doesn’t necessarily equate with “stodgy, boring, predictable.” Besides, as my HH is fond of saying, it’s just one of my “dog-like qualities.” (”Not that there’s anything wrong with that, right, Mum?”)
Well, so far this week, “reliable” seems to characterize the foods I’ve been drawn to as well. For the first few days of the cleanse, I found myself experiencing odd cravings (which might have been alarming if I weren’t past child-bearing age) for raw veggies and other simple, unadorned foods. Curious, since I’m not particularly enamored of salad as a rule (sort of how I feel about Dancing with the Stars: if it’s there in front of me, I can watch it and even enjoy it; but I’d never actively seek it out.)
Of course, if I stopped to think about it, I’d likely discover that a good portion of my typical dinner entrées lack grains, and I generally cook them up without another thought. So why, now that I’m actually trying to prepare interesting dishes for the Grain Drain, do I seem to be stumped?
Enter old reliables. You know the type: like that gay pal you had as an undergrad, your perma-date who accompanied you to every important family function or work-related event; like that pair of respectable pumps you store in pristine condition in their original shoebox, just in case you’re summoned unexpectedly to a job interview; or like your most cherished friend, the one you could call without hesitation at 11:38 PM on a weeknight after you learned that Rocker Guy (he of the black leather pants) was returning to his old girlfriend, and you needed a shoulder to cry on (thanks, Gemini I). In the realm of food, these are my go-to salads.
These are the salads we consume time and again, making minor adjustments depending on availability of local ingredients, what’s on hand in the kitchen, or shifting tastes as the seasons drift from one to the next. And since they are so familiar to so many of us, I thought I’d collect them here–a trio of fruits, roots and leaves (isn’t that what a panda eats? Or is it some weird grammatical construction?).
Most of our salads in the DDD household are fairly rudimentary, tried-and-true affairs that probably appear on many of your own tables in slightly varied formats. Tossed greens, coleslaw, three bean–they’re comfort foods you turn to when cooking feels like an onerous task, the dishes you could whip up without a recipe, the ones that over time, perhaps, become your signature dishes. Even if they’re tweaked a bit over the years, they still retain their original essence and appeal. These recipes are as reliable as that newspaper rolled in its heavy, scuffed elastic band, delivered to your front porch each morning; as basic as your little black dress; as comfortable as the warm sand between your toes on a sunny beach.
First up is a standard greens-and-veggies combo. This Greens with Hearts of Palm and Pine Nuts is the same salad that accompanied my Sweet Potato and Kasha Burgers a while back, about which some of you expressed an interest. The colors are remarkably vivid, and for a salad that’s this easy to make, the taste is astonishing. This is one of my all-time favorite green salads.
I also enjoyed a coleslaw that I’ve been preparing since my twenties. Originally the recipe of my room mate’s older sister, it was the first in which I’d tasted fruit (raisins) in coleslaw, and I was instantly smitten. In those days, I made the dressing with a combination of plain yogurt and mayonnaise, but I find that any vegan mayonnaise works just as well. It provides a lovely tang along with the soft sweetness of chewy raisins and juicy crunch of fresh cabbage. Both refreshing and satisfying!
Finally, I mixed up a three bean salad–you know the one, the centerpiece at all those family Bar B Q’s from your childhood, the same one that occupies a huge bowl on almost every restaurant buffet. I adapted this one from Chuck and Gurney’s 125 Best Vegan Recipes, as I couldn’t find my original (cadged from another graduate student way back during my PhD). I imagine you could substitute almost any beans you like, but for me, it wouldn’t be “classic” without kidney beans and chick peas.
These are the multiple-encore salads in our house–and you can count on a great performance from all three.
And since Salad Number 3 in the lineup is a perfect choice for Lisa and Holler’s No Croutons Required event (this month, the focus is on soups or salads with beans or legumes/pulses), I’m sending it along there as well. You can check out the roundup after the 20th of the month.
Greens with Hearts of Palm and Pine Nuts
Because the vegetables here are so radiant on their own, I snapped the photo before dressing the salad. With so many flavors coexisting in harmony here, the dressing is actually very light. And you can vary virtually every part of the salad: use your favored greens instead of the organic mixed greens; use walnuts or almonds instead of pine nuts; or artichoke hearts for hearts of palm–it all works!
For the salad:
about 4 cups organic baby mixed greens, or a similar amount of other greens, torn into bite-sized
pieces
1 can whole hearts of palm, rinsed
1/4 cup (60 ml.) pine nuts, lightly roasted and cooled
1 cup (125 ml.) grape or cherry tomatoes
1/2 red pepper, cut into 2 cm. squares
1/4 red onion, diced (optional)
1 orange or apple, peeled, cored, and cut into bite-sized pieces
Place all ingredients in a large salad bowl.
For the dressing:
1/4 cup (60 ml.) extra virgin olive oil
3 T. (45 ml.) balsamic vinegar or lemon juice
2 tsp. (10 ml.) agave nectar or 8-10 drops stevia
salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
Blend all ingredients in a bowl and whisk until smooth and well-combined. Pour over salad, toss and serve. Serves 4.
Dilly Coleslaw with Raisins and Walnuts
This is a perfect side dish for a Bar B Q or light lunch on a really hot day. It makes a great partner to classic potato salad. The fresh dill adds some zest to this classic salad.
1/3 small cabbage, shredded or sliced into thin shreds
1 large carrot, grated
1/2 cup (125 ml.) raisins
1/2 cup (125 ml.) walnut pieces, lightly toasted
1/4 cup (60 ml.) fresh dill, coarsely chopped
1/2-3/4 cup (depending on your preference) vegan mayonnaise (or use half mayo and half yogurt)
2 tsp. freshly squeezed lemon juice
sea salt, to taste
In a salad bowl, toss together cabbage, carrot, raisins, and walnuts.
In a small bowl, mix together dill, mayonnaise, lemon juice and sea salt. Pour over vegetables and toss to coat. Allow to sit for at least 20 minutes for flavors to meld, or refrigerate for 2-4 hours before serving. Makes 6 servings.
Classic Three Bean Salad
adapted from 125 Best Vegan Recipes by Maxine Effenson Chuck and Beth Gurney
I love the sharp pungency of the dressing in this salad. Added fresh mint and tarragon elevates it beyond the buffet table.
Salad:
1-1/2 cups (375 ml.) dry beans (use 3 or 4 types : I used red kidney, chick peas, and Great Northern beans),
soaked in water overnight, drained, rinsed and cooked until soft–or use 3 cans of prepared beans
1 red bell pepper, diced
1 red onion, chopped or sliced
Dressing:
2/3 (160 ml.) cup red wine vinegar
1/3 cup (80 ml.) extra virgin olive oil
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 Tbsp. (15 ml.) each chopped fresh cilantro, fresh mint and fresh tarragon (or use other herbs as you prefer)
1-2 tsp. (5-10 ml.) agave nectar (to taste)
sea salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste
Make the dressing: in a small bowl, whisk together the vinegar, oil, garlic, and agave nectar; add the herbs and mix well; season with salt and pepper. Set aside.
Make the salad: Place beans and vegetables in a large salad bowl. Top with dressing and toss well. Allow to marinate for at least one hour, up to overnight. Makes 4-6 servings. Will keep, refrigerated, up to 4 days.
Prufrock Special*
June 6, 2008
*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.
And You Shall Be Cleansed
June 4, 2008
Well, as we round the final corner of this Total Health course I’m taking (only two weeks left–where have the past seven weeks gone?), the class has been asked to embark on a “cleanse” (detoxifying diet) as our final piece of homework.
Our teacher, the very embodiment of “tranquility,” has asked each participant to eliminate something from her/his diet that would ultimately lead to a cleaner, less toxic and healthier body. Each one of us, she suggested, should begin exactly where s/he is right now; for the instructor herself, this might mean embarking on a water fast (something she’s done for up to 10 days at a time in the past). For one particular participant, this would mean cutting out red meat for the week (and retaining the rest of the animals on his plate). And for me? Hmmn. Hard to say.
I’m reminded of a lecture I once attended at the University of Toronto many years ago. As I recall, the gist of the talk was ”how we interpret past customs in the present day” or something to that effect. What I do remember is one speaker in particular, a very liberal rabbi in his thirties (tall and lanky, he wore a black leather jacket and Levis–clearly, not your typical rabbi) who happened to be a vegetarian. He related a story about a somewhat obscure religious ritual that he likened to Lent, in which Jews are asked to give up all meat for a period of time (sorry, I don’t remember how long–though I’m pretty sure it was less than 40 days).
As a vegetarian, he figured he might substitute another food to create a similar spiritual impact (since he felt the intent of the observance was to experience self-denial in the name of penitence). He met with a more conservative, elderly rabbi, an expert in this area, to ask what else he could give up instead.
“I already don’t eat meat,” he told the senior cleric, ”So maybe I could choose something else, to observe the intention behind the rule. How about tofu? Or what if I give up beans?”
The rabbi appeared pensive, stroked his beard a few times, then replied: “No. The tradition decrees that you must give up meat. Give up meat.”
“But I already gave up meat,” the younger guy persisted. “Isn’t the point to sacrifice something? Aren’t you supposed to miss it just a little, so you can appreciate it more?”
The older man became a bit annoyed at this point. “Give up meat,” he repeated. “That’s what the custom says. Give up meat.”
“But isn’t there a substitute I could use?”
“No. Meat.”
“But–”
“MEAT.”
Well, much like our young rabbi friend, I’ve already given up many of the foods that would represent a great sacrifice to the other members of the course (meat, eggs, dairy, sugar, wheat, etc.). The problem is, I haven’t given them up permanently, nor even consistently (what springs to mind is chocolate–a substance which, I’m pretty sure I’ve heard somewhere, contains sugar).
Attempting to decide on the specifics of my cleanse got me thinking back to the first year I learned about the NAG diet. Like a bride on her honeymoon, in those early days I hung on my teachers’ every word. Each time we learned about a new diet, from Ayurveda to macrobiotic to raw to vegan, I immediately went home and tried it out. I loved incorporating more greens into my diet, loved the increased flavor intensity I discovered in organics, loved trying new and ancient grains, loved the array of natural sweeteners–loved them all. If I were still consuming a similarly (exclusively) healthful diet, I’d be in for a water fast at this point, too.
In the past couple of years, however, the purity of my diet has been sullied considerably; even though I continue to consume all the healthy stuff, I am still occasionally drawn back to the unhealthy side of the spectrum as well, and that’s what gets me into trouble: cookies, cakes, chocolate, candy–all can be highly toxic (even the vegan, spelt-and-maple syrup kind, if eaten in excess).
And so, I determined (with a little pang): I must cut out grains in all their forms for the week. I had considered simply giving up “flour” (which would effectively eliminate any baking during the cleanse), but all grains made more sense. Since I’m the type who might overdo something as healthy as a Quinoa and Buckwheat Salad or Millet and Pepper Pilaf when the cravings hit, to avoid any carbohydrate temptation, no grains it will be. For one entire week.
Unfortunately, this ban will also affect other dishes that harbor grains-in-hiding, such as my tofu omelette or fritatta, or even a delectable nut roast (which contains some breadcrumbs and flour). What the heck will I eat for the next week? Well, I’m guessing I’ll return to some previously enjoyed raw dishes, since almost none of those feature grains (and where they do make an appearance, it’s sprouted). Since the weather will supposedly (and finally!) be hot and sunny this weekend, there should be a good variety of fruits and vegetables available to me at the local market. I’ll also feast on beans, legumes, nuts and seeds. Why, it’s a veritable cornucopia! And if I feel desperate for sweets, there are always raw desserts like fruit sorbet, carob-cashew pudding, or LaRAW bars. Gee, there’s just SO much choice, I might even have TOO much to eat!
(Repeat to self as required: ”I am happy and satisfied eating my veggies and fruits.” “I feel comfortably full and content with my measely nuts and seeds.” “No, there is no sense of deprivation whatsoever without oatmeal for breakfast, or pasta, or muffins, especially when the HH doesn’t need a cleanse and gets to eat whatever he wants, at every meal.” ”Of course not, I totally don’t feel those insistent, gnawing cravings that eat away at me like rats in a prison cell that wear me down like stones at the seaside that force me to leave my home at 11:00 PM and drive to the convenience store practically in the middle of the night just to satisfy the aching desire, the ineluctable urge, the desperate NEED for chocolate. . . . Oh, my. This may prove to be a little more difficult than I anticipated. (Help).
During this week, I’ll still post recipes that I find tasty and worth eating, though I’ll do my best to avoid anything too “out there” (but since I’ve already posted about cultured vegetables, what worse could I throw at you–except, perhaps spirulina bars?)
(”Mum, please don’t get stressed about this cleanse; we will be happy to eat your portion of the grains this week. Oh, and remember that patting your dogs will help lower your blood pressure.” )
Mint Smoothie
June 3, 2008
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.
Shock and Ossify: Raw Fig and Cherry Bars
May 30, 2008
[Yep, another raw bar. . . and so soon! But there's a good reason. . . ]

Well, it’s finally happened: after years of needless anxiety before every annual medical check-up (only to be told each time that nothing’s wrong). . . this time, something was wrong. And I must admit, I’m shocked.
When I saw my doctor a few weeks ago, she sent me off for all the standard tests appropriate for “someone my age.” Then yesterday at the call-back appointment, I was informed that I have osteopenia. Sounds scary initially: osteopenia is the (potential) precursor to osteoporosis, as the word means “thinning of the bones.” Osteoporosis means “porous bones” and is a greater danger.
Even as she was speaking, questions caromed around in my mind: What, exactly, does this mean? Doesn’t everyone experience thinning of the bones as they age? How serious is my situation?–etc. Apparently, the test, called DEXA (”Dual Energy X-Ray Absorption”) works by measuring the density of my bones and comparing it against the bones of an imaginary 25 year-old woman (the “gold standard,” as my doctor says. But hey, shouldn’t that be the “greyish-white” standard?). Statistically, my bones were a 1.3 per cent standard deviation from that (no idea what that means). A 2.5 per cent deviation equals “osteoporosis.” When I asked how I compare to other women my age, she noted that I was still a bit below average.
Now, I simply cannot express how much this news ticks me off! I mean, isn’t being fat good for anything these days?? One of the health issues I never (I mean, never) considered as a possibility was osteoporosis; you see, being overweight is actually a preventative in that area (bones rebuild and strengthen in accordance with ”weight-bearing exercise,” and I have definitely been bearing excess weight the past few years.). I do, however, have some of the other risk factors (such as being female).
Well, I’m trying not to get overly stressed about this (stress, as it turns out, is one of the factors that contributes to bone loss. Bien sûr). Even my doctor noted that, should nothing change over the next few years, she wouldn’t give it another thought; it would only be considered a problem if I keep losing bone density.
This shocking diagnosis got me moving (in the sense of ”getting hyped up,” though of course also in the sense of “walking more”–gotta increase that exercise now!). I pulled out a bunch of my old texts from nutrition school and started reading. Seems that the absolute amount of calcium and other essential bone-building nutrients is irrelevant, if you’re not digesting them properly. Bad digestion=malabsorption=too few minerals in the bloodstream (at which point your opportunistic bloodstream leaches them out of your bones, teeth, and whatever else it can find–the nerve!). In other words, you can consume calcium out the yin-yang, but if your body isn’t absorbing it properly, you may as well be eating matchsticks (actually, no, don’t do that–too much sulfur isn’t good, either).
A highly acidic diet (as in, “those heinous, calcium-siphoning, bone-sucking junk foods and chocolate bars that have wooed me too many times in the past”) will also cause you to lose minerals from the bone (chocolate is a particular culprit, apparently, as it contains both caffeine AND refined sugar–both mineral-leachers). And believe it or not, meats and most dairy products are equally bad, as they are also highly acidic (too bad I grew up in a household where we ate meat every day, usually more than once). Oh, and let’s not forget that surreptitious bone-stealer: stress. So, in a contest to see who possesses the most negative traits contributing to malabsorption–well, all I can say is, “Yay! I finally won a contest!”
So now I have a real reason to eat better and exercise more: unlike my Stone-Age ancestors, I am partial to walking upright, and would prefer to retain that ability.
For those of you who are interested, you can prevent (and some even say reverse) osteopenia with the proper diet. This includes ingesting sufficient calcium, of course (think green leafys, almonds, legumes, figs, blackstrap molasses and, if you’re so inclined, sardines, salmon and yogurt); sufficient Vitamin D (at least 10 minutes of sunshine per day, or 1000 IU in supplement form); lots of magnesium (green leafys and beans/legumes again), and a complement of other vitamins and minerals, such as B’s, K, and boron, in smaller quantities. Basically, a diet high in vegetables, fruits, nuts, seeds, beans and legumes. Because it’s been a while since I practised nutrition directly, I’ll be heading for a trip to my naturopath next week to see what she has to say. And this will mean a bunch of new, ultra-healthy recipes on the blog!
All this got me thinking about Susan at Food Blogga’s “Beautiful Bones” event in honor of National Osteoporosis Month. I’d actually been planning to submit this very entry to Susan. Now, however, I’m also motivated to go make another batch, just for me. (Oh, and Susan also offers a list of calcium-rich foods on her event page.)
I came up with this recipe when I first started teaching cooking classes a few years ago. Each of the classes was assigned a theme, such as ”Glorious Greens,” “Tricks with Tofu” (foods, not making it disappear), or “Great and Gluten-Free.” One class, called “Bone Builders” (which now sounds to me more like an architectural firm on The Flintstones), was the impetus for these bars. They were a great hit with the cooking classes, and later, a popular seller at the organic market where I sold baked goods for a few years. And since they were designed specifically to improve bone health, these treats seem the perfect contribution to Susan’s event.
In the past few years, I’ve discovered that these are terrific as a mid-day energy booster, a great portable lunch on the go, or a substitute for trail mix. You can keep a wrapped bar in your drawer at work for an emergency nibble, or bring it along during a walk through the woods. Once made and wrapped, the bars will keep for up to 2 weeks in the fridge (they have honestly never lasted that long over here). With a texture like that of a protein bar you’d buy at the store, these are much more flavorful, with tart lemon peel, dried cherries accented by sweet dried fig, and the crackly, popping crunch of fig seeds alongside ground almonds. They’re very filling and a fabulous bar to have on hand.
When I first created these, I ran a quick nutritional analysis to ensure that they’d provide a meaningful boost of calcium. Courtesy of almonds (the nut with highest calcium levels), dried figs (the fruit with highest calcium levels), tahini (made from sesame seeds–yep, the seed with highest calcium levels) and sour cherries (no slouch in the calcium department), these bars are a powerhouse of bone-building minerals. The stats confirmed my expectation: each bar offers 140 mg. of calcium per bar (about 1/10 of the daily requriement) along with 6 grams of protein and 7 grams of fiber (bonus!). I’m not sure how much deviation that represents from the statistical norm, but no matter–they’re delicious all the same.
Raw Fig and Cherry Bars

These are deliciously chewy and not too sweet. If you can find organic UNsweetened dried cherries (the kind that are very tart), they are really the best choice. If you can’t find them, you may wish to reduce, or even omit, the agave nectar.
2 cups ( 290 g.) raw natural almonds
1/4 cup (30 g.) finely ground flax seeds
finely grated peel of 2 organic lemons
1-1/4 cups (190-200 g.) quartered dried figs, stems removed (measure after removing stems)
2 Tbsp. (30 ml.) to 1/4 cup (60 ml.) agave nectar, to taste (and depending on how dry the mixture is)
2 Tbsp. (30 ml.) raw tahini (or regular, if you’re not concerned about the bars being raw)
1 cup (120-130 g.) organic dried tart cherries, unsweetened
Lightly grease a 9″ x 9″ (about 20cm x 20 cm.) pan, or line with plastic wrap (I prefer the plastic wrap option).
In the bowl of a food processor (this recipe won’t work in a blender), combine the nuts and flaxseeds, and process until you have a fine meal that begins to adhere to the sides of the processor bowl (it will appear as if the mixture has stopped spinning round the bowl). Do not overprocess, however, or you’ll end up with nut butter!
Add the lemon peel and figs, and process again until well blended and the mixture resembles a coarse meal. Add remaining ingredients and process briefly to chop the cherries and create a moist “dough” (it will form a ball). Pinch a bit of the mixture between your fingers to test the consistency. If it sticks together and feels slightly moist, it’s ready.
Turn the mixture into the pan and press down very firmly with your fist or the back of a metal spatula. The mixture should be very compact and solid.
Refrigerate until firm, about an hour, or at least 20 minutes. Cut into 12 bars and store in an airtight container in the refrigerator, or wrap each bar individually in plastic wrap. The bars will keep refrigerated for up to two weeks.
Per bar: 140 mg. calcium, 5 g. protein, 5 g. fiber




















