Diet, Dessert and Dogs

I must say, I never expected my little apple butter sauce to cause such a stir (no pun intended–oh, all right, pun intended).  It always amazes me which blog entries elicit a strong reaction while others, like Andy Garcia, might be on par with their (more popular) contemporaries, but for some reason still don’t garner the recognition I think they deserve.  I’m glad so many of you liked the idea of apple butter in a BBQ sauce on tempeh.  (And now the pressure’s on to create some other ostensibly innovative or creative recipe for my next blog entry. . . . collard cake? Turnip pasta? Eggplant cookies ?–oh, forgot, I actually did create that one).

Well, I’ve got nothing on the cutting board at the moment, so I’m afraid it will have to wait just a bit.

You see, I’ve been spending a lot of time at my computer recently, working on that pile of papers and online course work.  Mostly, I’ve been feeling frustrated because (a) the pile seems to be expanding of its own accord (sort of like my waistline); and (b) I’ve been spending less time focused on blogging as a result.  I’ve also been feeling a bit creeped out, as it happens, since our landlord is having the exterior of the house painted, and every time I glance toward the window to catch a thought or a glimpse of the sky outside, I’m confronted with a close-up of a man’s paint-splattered face, as if our window were a giant flat-screen TV right beside my desk. 

Well, a couple of days ago I was tagged for a meme by the lovely and talented Holler of Tinned Tomatoes.  As it turns out, I’ve already prepared and consumed my salad (twice!) for Holler and Lisa’s upcoming No Croutons Required Event; unfortunately, I haven’t yet had time to write the blog entry about it.  Instead, I decided to focus on some earlier blog photos to send Holler’s (and your) way.

The meme asks for your “top ten” blog photos.  As I mentioned in my comment to Holler, I had to laugh at that request.  As someone who knows nothing about photography and owns the cheapest camera possible (okay, a disposable might be cheaper), I never really focused that much on how I photograph the food; it’s only recently that I’ve begun to think, “hmmm, a better camera sure would make blogging easier.”  For now, a new camera will stay on the birthday wish-list.

I wondered how to select ten, when it was so hard to choose even one that I really liked. ”Do I choose the top ten in terms of page hits? Or the top ten in terms of aesthetic appeal?  Or should I emulate Johanna at Green Gourmet Giraffe, and choose the ten photos that meant the most to me?” I decided to go with Johanna, who always seems level headed and whose logic I like.  

And so, here goes:

10) Spiced Cauliflower Soup

I usually take photos of food close up, partly because I have an extremely small surface area of the kitchen table that attracts full sunlight, and partly because the rest of my kitchen usually looks like the post-cyclone scene in The Wizard of Oz  and I’d be mortified if it got into a photo (unless, of course, I decided to show it to you myself , as in this blog entry). The cauliflower soup photo was the first time I’d consciously attempted to “style” a shot, and the feedback about the photo was so positive, I will always have a soft spot for this one.

9) A Year, Anew

Poor quality photo from a neophyte blogger, but this pic of four of my champagne flutes on December 31, 2007 has sentimental value.  Ever since I moved into my first apartment as an adult, I’ve collected individual, unique champagne flutes, and many were received as gifts (in fact, one of the first gifts the HH ever gave me was a handcrafted pewter-stemmed flute). Each glass has its particular story or background, even if the story is, “I found this for 25 cents at a garage sale!”.  I’ve sampled champagne from each and every one of the 21 in my collection, and they are all my favorites. 

8) Butterscotch Mousse Pie

This photo is dear to my heart, both because the recipe is from the first cookbook I reviewed on this site, and also because the book itself was the prize for a contest I won. I loved the actual pie as well (hmm–should really make that one again), and I know that Nava liked the photo, so it means a lot to me.

7)  Mint Smoothie

In real life, the drink in this photo was a plain, dull, swamp-like olive green. . .not the most appetizing color for a food photo. But somehow, wrapping that napkin around the stem of the wine glass elevated the smoothie to something elegant and even romantic.  And since the taste of the drink was truly sensational, I was glad I could make it seem more appealing.

6) Tagine of Quinoa with Chickpeas, Olives and Prunes

I love this recipe.  This was a dish I re-vamped from an old recipe, one I found in a cookbook I’ve had forever.  The HH and I feasted on this tagine many times over the winter, and I was happy to see that readers liked it, too. When I look at this photo, I can almost see the rich, sweet-and-savory sauce and the multiple layers and flavors in the casserole.  Comfort in a bowl! 

5) Old Reliables: Salads You Can Count On

Strangely, though I’m not really a salad person, I love this photo.  And the salad isn’t even dressed in it!  But I think the simplicity of the veggies and the bright colors allow the purity and beauty of the fresh food to shine through.  When I know I should eat salad and don’t feel like it, I just look at this photo.

4) Chaser Photo: If Vodka is an Elsie, then Beer is a Chaser

This is my favorite photo of Chaser on the blog.  This photo of her as a pup was taken on a very hot day on our old deck, after the little tornado had leapt across the lawn, nipped at the water hose, chased balls, eaten some grass, growled at Elsie, shredded a rope toy, and tried to chew the plastic chair leg before her.  She finally stopped to take a break and pant a bit–and I snapped the photo. I think the impish nature is encapsulated in her lolling tongue, the mischievous glint in her eye, and the end of her collar askew.  Is she cute, or what?? 

3) Elsie Photo: This iz not a blg entree

This is my favorite photo of Elsie on the blog.  The HH and I still erupt into paroxysms of hysteria when we see this.  I was taking a break from blogging at the time, but Elsie simply couldn’t resist updating all of you.  Notice that she types with a mini dog biscuit at the ready, beside her left paw.  Really, she is such a remarkable dog!

2) French Toast Soufflé with Summer Berries

This was one of my favorite recipes I’ve made so far.  Besides the intense purples and pinks being so visually appealing, the soufflé itself was easy to make and came out delicious–light, fluffy, moist, sweet (but not too sweet), fruity, and all around irresistible.  I caught this photo after the HH and I had each enjoyed a huge serving and would have liked more.  

1) Avocado Mayonnaise

I think this recent photo is my favorite so far (if you exclude the dogs’ photos), mostly because of its simplicity. I love the contrast of the green on the red, the fact that there are basically only 2 colors in the photo, and that the grounds of pepper are actually sharply visible (my cheap camera performs, for once!). I also loved the taste and texture of the mayo, and it’s become a staple recipe in our house. In fact, it makes me want to go and have some right now.

After selecting the photos and reading through this entry, it suddenly struck me:  THERE ARE NO PHOTOS OF CHOCOLATE HERE!  Astonishing, truly.  It’s not that I no longer love chocolate or that it’s slipped from Number One Food Spot in my esteem.  No; it’s just that I haven’t been able to adequately capture its magical essence in any of my amateur photos.  Gives me something to shoot for in the next 200 or so blog entries. . .

I’m not going to tag anyone specific, but I will say that it was a fun challenge to come up with the selections, so if you’re interested, please share!

The Girls love the glorious sunshine and heat, but spending too much time frolicking outside can take its toll. . . .

["Oh, Mum, I just adore summer--especially getting sprayed by the garden hose!"]

["Really, Chaser,  how puerile. Personally, I prefer to keep my distance from the hose and hang here by Dad's foot."]

["Ooooh. . . maybe I have overdone it, just a bit. . .just need to rest here a minute under the patio furniture. . . "]

["It IS beginning to feel rather hot out here about now, I  must admit."]

["Ah, thanks for letting me in, Mum. It's much better here in the house, on these cool ceramic tiles. . . "]

["Zip it, Chaser, I'm trying to sleep. "]

For those of you who celebrated (and enjoyed a day off work), hope you all had a great Victoria Day weekend! 

Our little Chaser Doodle, unfortunately, did not enjoy the fireworks. . . . [NB: WE didn't set off any of the offending missiles. . . this was the reaction to the noise outside].

["Mum, all those loud cracks and popping noises are freaking me out. . . and what are all those flashing lights in the sky? I think I'll just stay here under this table until it's all over. . . "]

Having lost my own mother over 15 years ago (yes, far too young, for both of us) and never having personally enjoyed the tangle of emotions that is motherhood, I tend to overlook today’s particular holiday, celebrated by the bulk of the Western world.

While catching up on my ever-expanding list of blogs on Google Reader, I happened upon Ashasarala’s poignant post for today.  It got me thinking:  aren’t I still a daughter?  And what about those other “mothers” I’ve known in my life (both actual and figurative), from my beloved CBC to my older sister to a couple of my best friends? This seems the perfect day to connect with those mothers, whether through birth, adoption, extended family, or simply psychological ties.

So here’s a wish for all of you who are, have been, or just feel like mothers today: may you enjoy meaningful, happy and loving encounters on this day, with the people (and pets) who mean the most to you–whoever they are. 

["See, Chaser, I told you you were adopted!"

"Um, hate to tell you, Elsie, but with that shnoz, it's obvious that you shouldn't be sounding so smug, either."]

Tonight I start my course, Total Health, and I can hardly wait.  I am truly hoping that a holistic, well-rounded approach to diet and lifestyle will put me back on the right track to improved health.  This is one area where the HH has a hard time comprehending the Herculean effort it takes to avoid certain food-related temptations, as he is naturally slim, has never had an eating disorder, and knows exactly when to stop eating, even if he adores the food on his plate. 

As I’ve mentioned before, food isn’t the only area where the HH and I differ.  My beloved and I are, shall we say, sort of like Oscar and Felix. . . like analog and digital. . . like yin and yang. . . like ice cream and tofutti. . . like Sonny and Cher. . . like Jack Spratt and–well, you get the idea.  (And, on another note: how did we ever survive without Wikipedia–seriously?).

Anyway, that got me thinking about the old cliché that says dog owners and their dogs come to resemble each other more and more as the years go by. . . I’m not sure about the looks department, but Elsie and Chaser sure do mimic me and the HH in the realm of personalities.  (I’ll leave it to you to guess who’s who).

You couldn’t invent two more polar opposites than The Girls:  while Elsie is demure, reserved and shy, Chaser is entirely in your face. 

["Ha ha Elsie, bet you can't catch me!" "Oh, really, Chaser, you are sooooo immature."]

Where Elsie is timid and afraid, Chaser is “I can do it!  C’mon–let me jump out that second storey window!” 

(”Hmmm. . . all I need to do is push up that blind, then balance on the windowsill. . . yep, I’m sure I could do it. . .)

Where Elsie is polite and respectful (”Why, yes, Mum, please do go ahead of me through this doorway, I wouldn’t have it any other way”), Chaser is always pushing the envelope (”Doorbell!  I’m on it!  Let’s go!! Outta the way!  Someone’s there!!”).

(”Here is that frisbee you requested, Mum.  Where would you like me to deposit it?”)

Where Elsie is elegant, graceful, and glides silently from room to room, Chaser is the class clown, the one who lacks coordination and who’s all legs, thumping her way across a room (and, in fact, one of her many sobriquets around here is “Thumper”).

(”Chaser, you’ve got your legs in my back again.  Sheesh. Can’t a gal get any sleep around here?”)

Where Elsie is a little chubby, rounded and soft (in all the right places), Chaser is lanky, lean and lithe.

(”Mum, Elsie’s taking up too much room. . . my legs don’t fit in this space.”)

When we first got Elsie, we were afraid that she had no vocal chords.  In fact, we didn’t even know she was capable of barking until she was about 10 months old. 

(” *Sigh* “)

Chaser, on the other hand, whined the entire way home from the first afternoon we got her.  She is also, as the HH is fond of saying, rather “lippy”:  I’ve never known another dog that yelps, whines, howls, cries, barks, growls, and basically complains as much as she does.  Oh, and she groans.  Like an old man, like a creaky rocking chair, like an exasperated audience at the comedy improv:  there we’ll be, late at night in utter darkness, trying to sleep. . . when suddenly, I’ll hear the rumble of an outboard motor–but emanating from the foot of our bed: it’s just Chaser, changing position in her sleep, and groaning.

(” *** Groan ***”)

Well, despite their differences, The Girls have managed to find a balance, to develop a true love for each other and their respective quirks and peccadilloes (as have the HH and I). 

 And anyway, what would life be without a little contrast?  

[Photo of a photo of] The HH and me dressed as Sonny and Cher for a Hallowe’en party, the year we met (and before the dreaded weight gain). Dig those wigs! .]

(”Mum, you totally embarrass us. . . no, we don’t care that people know about our cute little quirks, but how could you publish that photo of you and Dad?? Oh, cringe. . . “)

Ar mum is dung doo doo ng duing fine shes werking hard. she mises th blog and hoeps to bee back sune.

we mis it to.

x o  Elsie + Chaser

PS pls give us fud.

It’s so great to hear from people who enjoy seeing (and hearing!) The Girls in the blog.  But I have to tell you, folks, what with all this attention, and then with the Oscar buzz happening yesterday (yay Daniel Day-Lewis!), they suddenly think they’re celebrities or something.  They’ve even begun to re-enact famous movies. 

For instance, here’s Chaser doing her own rendition of Queen Elizabeth (and believe me, she rules around here, too):

Here she is again, this time as Lucy in Dracula(the Gary Oldman-Wynona Rider version, not the Bela Lugosi version):

Not to be outdone, Elsie went ahead and rehearsed for Bull Durham (though I think she’d make a better catcher than a batter):

And my favorite, their collaboration on Ingmar Bergman’s Cries and Whispers:

I’m really not sure how to handle them with all this puffed-up ego in the air. . . for now, I’ll just humor them and hope it goes away soon.

(”Mum, truly, this is has to be the worst embarrassment ever. . . but, while we’re here anyway, perhaps one of these nice people would like our autograph?”)

Nope, not one.  Not a single one.  Not even the tiniest smidgen of one. 

That’s right: for the first time ever in my adult life, I have not seen ONE of the movies nominated for Best Picture tomorrow night. (And YOU thought I was going to say “not one piece of chocolate!  Ha ha on you!! Well, I haven’t had a single smidge of that, either.)

And that is all I will be saying about the Oscars.

I’ve decided that I must have been a cacao overlord in a previous lifetime, and now as part of my atonement, I’m seeing chocolate, chocolate everywhere–just when I’m trying most to avoid the stuff (for those of you who just joined us in medias res, I’m attempting a detox to clear my body of the influence of the Devil Chocolate–and so, the Week of Chocolate Asceticism). 

As I mentioned before I began my week, I did whip up a few delectables before I started so that the blog wouldn’t be entirely bereft of the sweet stuff for the entire time.  Then, last night, I even dreamt of some new chocolate-based dessert I could make! 

And, of course, other bloggers are flinging chocolate this way and that, directly into my field of vision all this week: Eat Me, Delicious has just posted about a mouth-watering Chocolate Cookie Bark; The Good Eatah made a very rich, very creamy chocolate pudding;  Vegan Noodle of Walking the Vegan Line made some wicked-looking truffles; Hannah made her own–homemade!–white chocolate bar; that rascal, Michael Clayton, made nothing; Cate from Sweetnicks made Chocolate Pots de Creme (how did she find the time??) and Ivonne from Cream Puffs in Venice has even devoted an entire month to the stuff (please, somebody save me!)

And so, I decided I couldn’t escape it.  Although I am still determined not to let one mote, not one spec, not one shaving, not one MOLECULE of chocolate enter my mouth until I’ve given my system a decent break, I thought a little virtual indulgence wouldn’t do any harm.   

So here I’ll share some photos of chocolate-based recipes I’ve played with over the past few weeks, as well as some goodies I had to bake for customers.  

When I expressed some dismay that I wouldn’t be able to taste-test any of my catered goods, my friend’s very helpful teenaged daughter piped up:  “Well, you could just take a bite, chew it, and then spit it out.” Remember that episode of Sex and the City, where Miranda has dinner with an ex-boyfriend?  And they haven’t seen each other in years, and when they do, he’s lost a ton of weight?  And then they go out to eat at a swanky NYC restaurant, and he orders steak?  And then she catches him spitting a gnarly, saliva-soaked wad of chewed steak into his napkin?  Yep, that’s the one. And so you see why I couldn’t take the daughter’s advice. 

As it turns out, I’ve made most of these items several hundred times, so I didn’t have to break my WOCA and sample anything. 

The first item was a Double Chocolate Mint Explosion Cookie, part of the treats table at a birthday party.  These are fudgy on the inside, just slightly crispy on the outside–a definite winner with kids and adults alike. 

Then I revisited a recent experiment with vegan chocolate-covered caramels (to which I must devote an entire post, anon):

After that, the chocolate rush subsided a bit, leaving just the chips in a Chocolate-Chip Blondie, baked for a school event (yes, indeedy, that is a kitchen towel behind the plate):

 Next up, a Chocolate Satin Tart.  These were a holiday item last year, which I baked for a vegan meal-delivery service here in Toronto to give to their customers (I hear they’re thinking of expanding to Calgary, where the Canadian Music Awards–called the Junos–are taking place this year).  A shortbread-like crust is filled with chocolate ganache, then dusted with cocoa:

And I ended the virtual pig-out with a memory of a recent experiement, with sugar-free, gluten-free chocolate buttercream frosting:

After this heady daydream, I felt prepared to snack on my lovely carob pudding, or raw fig and cherry bars (recipe to follow eventually).  And while it’s true that this No-Chocolate Land is a tough place to be (and it’s no country for old men, either, believe me),  I do feel more energetic, a bit more in balance, and happy about my healthy eating ths week.

WOCA Update:  Big, massive, seismic cravings today. And just when I thought they’d all passed!  Serves me right for being so smug about it last post.  But I shall persevere. . . I shall battle the demon with all my wits and all my inner resources. . . and I shall overcome. . . the scourge. . . that is Chocolate! Watch out; it’s possible there will be blood. (Oooh. Do you think I could maybe get away with just one little, tiny, eensy-weensy piece?  Naw, didn’t think so.)

And to those of you who watch them, enjoy the Oscars tomorrow (and sorry about that Juno reference.  It was either that or mention the mythological daughter of Saturn.)

In the past week I’ve been tagged for a meme by a few people and thought I’d be eco-minded and just combine all the answers here. 

The 123 Book Meme from Annie at Health Treks is actually the easiest–just open a book to page 123 and copy what it says.  The other meme, from Michelle at Cooking the Books and Karen at Test Drive Kitchen, is definitely more difficult for me: “Tell us 5 facts about yourself. ” Well, I feel as if I’m already spilling far too much right here on this very blog, so coming up with something beyond all this is challenging, to say the least. 

As I was reminiscing about various past events, it occurred to me that one way to approach the topic is through memory as a topic on its own.  So for this meme, I’ll talk about my memories and how memory plays a role in my life in general.

123 Book Meme: Since I’ve been focused on my chocolate detox this week, I’ve got tons of my nutrition-related books lying around.  I picked up Elson Haas’ The Detox Diet, flipped to page 123 and saw:

“To prepare juices, we want to start with the freshest and most chemical-free fruits and vegetables possible. They should be cleaned or soaked and stored properly. If not organic, they should be peeled, especially if they are waxed. With root vegetables such as carrots or beets, the above-ground ends should be trimmed. Some people drop their vegetables into a pot of boiling water for a minute or so to clean them before juicing. If there is a question of toxicity, sprays, or parasites, a chlorine bleach bath can be used.”

Well, I cheated just a little and added the sixth sentence (not to be confused with the Sixth Sense, mind you, or you’d be juicing with dead people).  Since Haas’ paragraph only HAD six sentences and I thought the last one was interesting, I figured you’d want to read it.  How perfect that he’s talking about juicing, when I just wrote about this a couple of days ago (and it WAS a true coincidence, I swear!). 

“Five Things” Meme (I’ve chosen five facts related to memory, or an actual memory in each case):

1) When I was in graduate school, I memorized the entire text of Beowulf–in Old English (am I a nerd, or what??).  This was for my final translation exam, where we’d be given any random passage from the poem and would have to translate it into English.  I didn’t want to take any chances, so memorized the entire thing, all 3183 lines of it.  Today, all I remember is the opening bit, “Hwat! Wey Gar-deyna, in yea-ar-dayum . . . “  Comes in real handy at cocktail parties (if only I ever went to any).

 2) I’ve memorized the names of every single one of my students over the years, usually within the first week of classes. I feel it’s only polite to use someone’s name when you addressing her/him, don’t you? Given the number of semesters I’ve taught, the alarmingly large classes these days (sometimes up to 45 students per class) and the increasing courseload (up to 5 courses per semester), I figure I’ve now memorized the names of more than 7,000 students.  Can I start my own phone book? Unfortunately, they depart as quickly as they came. . . I tend to forget most names shortly after the semester ends, clearing out room for the next batch.  (Once, years ago during one of our marathon pub-chats, my mentor told me that, after having taught for 20-odd years, he was lucky if he could remember the name of even ONE previous student a year later.  But the important names stuck, he assured me, the ones who make an impression never leave.  So I do remember those few special students who, for whatever reason, stood apart from the rest and have left an indelible mark in my memory. Hi, guys!)

3)  I remember phone numbers.  I admit, that statement isn’t as sexy or unique as saying, “I see dead people,” but I am pretty much able to dial a number once, then remember it in perpetuity.  My first apartment? 944-3929.  The Geminis’ old house? 744-0332. My dad’s old store? 276-1601.  And just what does this bizarre talent get me?  Well, I can probably order my Chinese takeout faster than you can–I don’t have to go to the phone book to look it up. 

4) I once memorized the entire screenplay of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.  When I was a sweet young thing (okay, a young thing), I saw the movie in a revue cinema in Montreal and immediately fell in love with the quirky humor, amazing scenery, witty dialogue and upbeat music (and, truth be told, Robert Redford and Paul Newman weren’t too shabby, either). I decided then and there–aged fourteen–that it was my favorite movie of all time. After which I proceeded to return to see the movie 27 more times.  No, not a typo:  twenty-seven. After which I was able to recite the dialogue, word for word (though I was never able to sing “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head”–not only because I don’t like the song, but more so because I can’t carry a tune. In fact, one time when we were kids, The Nurse and I were watching The Monkees on TV and I began to sing along to my favorite song.  She whipped around and suggested sweetly, “Couldn’t you just lip-synch?”).

5) One of my happiest childhood memories involves a rather mundane activity, going to the grocery store with my mother. My mother didn’t drive, and the closest grocery store was a 10-15 minute walk away. My younger sister and I would normally trudge along behind my mother on the way there, plead for Cap’n Crunch or Oreos in the store, then trudge along behind her, toting a grocery bag or two (if they weren’t too heavy) on the way home.  How did ice cream survive this trek in summer, I now wonder? How did we lug all those bags without breaking any of the fragile (then-glass) pop bottles? Yet somehow, we did. 

What we never anticipated was rain.  One day, as we made our way along the familiar route to the store, the skies darkened suddenly.  Before we knew it, it was pouring. I expected my mother to turn back, but she surprised me that day; she turned to us and whispered as if sharing the greatest of confidences, “Let’s run!”  We dashed to the closest tree, where we found shelter under the umbrella of leaves. With the rain pelting down, we’d run from tree to tree, seeking momentary refuge under the protective branches before heading back out into the downpour. 

We did this maybe ten or twelve times, inching our way toward the store and getting more and more drenched as we went, but having the times of our lives, giggling and laughing as we dove for cover, gripping the closest trunk and panting until we were ready for the next sprint. I don’t even remember if we made it to the store that day, or how we got home.  All I remember is the playful trill of my mother’s laugh as it rose above the pelting tatoo of drops on the leaves, before floating nimbly away on the breeze.

I won’t tag anyone specific for these memes–many of the names I’d choose have already been tagged, anyway.  But if you’d like to participate, please do!  Just leave a comment here and let us know you’re playing along, so we can check out your own responses.

 Do you love Valentine’s Day?  It seems to elicit one of two diametrically opposed reactions from most people: either sentimental, tug-at-your-heartstrings devotion, or else complete, unmitigated disdain.  (I must admit I’m closer to the former).  But whether you love or hate it, wouldn’t it be fun to be a fly on the wall at someone else’s V-Day? 

Well, this year, I’m suggesting we both be flies on the wall (I know, technically that’s an incorrect grammatical construction, since I am only one fly and “you” constitute at least two others, so it should actually read, ‘I’m suggesting that we all be flies on the wall,’ but that just sounded stupid). 

I’ll be the little fly I remember so vividly from my childhood, the one in the original 1950s The Fly movie, who is trapped at the end in the evil, inescapable spider’s web and calls out pitifully in a tiny, wailing voice, “Help me.  Help meeeee. . . . “ 

And you can be the fly on my Valentine’s Day Dinner wall.  Or should I say, “Please be the fly on my Valentine’s Day Dinner Wall.”  What do I mean  by that, you ask?

Well, so far, my HH and I have spent 10 Valentine’s Days together.  Each year, we’ve gone out for a fancy dinner in a restaurant.  (For three of those years, I couldn’t drink wine or eat most of what was on the menu, but I’ve found that if the restaurant is expensive enough, they’ll accommodate almost anything.)

This year, with finances a little tight, we decided to do something different and entirely novel.  We’re going to stay home and cook a romantic dinner together. This is highly significant for two main reasons:  (1) my HH generally doesn’t cook. (I may have mentioned before his past record of two years in an apartment without using the stove once.) And (2) my HH has agreed that this particular romantic soiree will feature an entirely vegan meal!!

Whoo-hoo, I say.  Again, a monumental concession on his part.  In the past, by eating at restaurants, we’ve been able to accommodate his motto that “a meal without animal protein just isn’t a meal.”  (Wine fits the motto, too, if you add the word “special” before “meal.”)  This time, though, he’s happily going along for the ride as I leaf through my scores of cookbooks and attempt to choose some spectacular dishes for the meal. 

And here’s where you come in. I have a few okay ideas, but for this ground-breaking dinner, I would really, really, REALLY love some new ones.  

And so I am entreating YOU, dear reader, to please serve up some suggestions!  Now’s your chance–if you’ve been a silent reader in the past, here’s a perfect opportunity to speak up! (Truly.  It would just be too humiliating if there were not ONE single comment left here after this impassioned plea. I would be forced to make up some of my own. And believe me, that would not be pretty.)  

Here’s what I’m considering for the menu so far (some of which I’ll actually have to make up myself, as I can’t seem to find a great recipe):

Appetizer

Sweet and Sour “Neat” Balls (appetizer size)–I could use a better appetizer;

First Course

Caesar Salad (I’ve fallen in love with the Veganomicon one, but would love to try something I haven’t had before);

Second Course

Cream of Olive Soup (writing about it the other day got me hankering for this soup–and I must get myself some, even if I have to create the recipe myself!);

Main Course

Pasta with Pesto, Sundried Tomatoes, and Smoked Tofu–I’d REALLY like a better suggestion for the main course!

Dessert

Banoffee Pie (I’m partway toward a fabulous vegan whipped cream recipe, but not sure I’ll pull it off by then–so other suggestions for wheat-free sweets would be much appreciated.)

Now, the HH and I have also made another unorthodox decision regarding this Big Day.  Unlike the rest of the civilized world, we are going to celebrate on Saturday–February 16th.  (Who said the 14th has to have a monopoly on love?).  Since Saturday is the weekend, we’ll both have the day off to cook in a leisurely fashion, perhaps even stretching the loving vibe throughout the afternoon. I’ll have time to set up the candles and bring out the bubble machine (well, the bubble wand, anyway).  And besides, all the Valentine’s Day chocolate will be on sale by then (fitting perfectly into our more frugal approach to the holiday this year).

So if you have an idea for a main dish that’s fabulous, romantic, tried-and-true, or an all time favorite, I’d love to hear about it.  If there’s a great appetizer you sampled at a party and would love to share, go for it.  If you’ve been blown away by a (wheat-free-dairy-free-egg-free-sugar-free) dessert in the past and know the recipe, send it on over! And if you’ve already blogged about your recipe, let me know and I’ll gladly add a link (I was going to say, “I’ll even invite you for dinner,” but I don’t think the HH would appreciate that on V-Day.)

Here’s your chance to spread the love around on Valentine’s Day! (And just think, this way, years from now, you’ll be able to say you were a driving force in encouraging the HH to finally cook something! How cool is that?)