Adventures in Holistic Living: Panna Cotta

Blogging my exploits in cooking, health, and holistic living has changed me significantly. For two months I’ve sensed a gradual paradigm shift in my philosophies surrounding the kitchen, which has leaked into other areas of my life. I’m more adventurous in the ingredients I use and in the ways I prepare them. I’m more aware with how my body reacts to my environment. 

For those who’ve been following this blog, I’m sure you observed the last few posts being, well, downers. And I admit it. There was a down-ness to them, filled with yearnings of the old days where I was bubbly and energetic and all over the place. It was clear I was having difficulty readjusting to my life back from Sweden, and again when I moved back home. So much change had happened that I was having difficulty adapting.

My friend Change and I have a fairly rocky relationship. I envied those who went with the tides so easily, the ones Change seemed so compatible with. I knew that I had gotten it down to a science not too long ago, that Change and I were two peas in a pod. When I am able to anticipate things, for better or worse, I typically end up smelling like roses and I celebrate Change's contribution to the enrichment of my life. But when things suddenly shift to a completely different direction I wasn’t expecting, I panic and Change seemed fickle and unreliable. 

That’s the beauty of gluten free cooking, though. Sometimes things don’t go according to plan and you have to wing it. Sometimes you have to let things take its course, even if the end result isn’t what you expected. And when you give yourself that space for error, often times you don’t even need it.

Since I’ve become the foodie I am today, I’ve developed quite an adventurous palate (most people with food intolerances and allergies do). But my adventurousness hasn’t stopped there; it’s merely where it began. 

The support I’ve gotten at home has been phenomenal. Except for a particular meal I wasn’t too happy with last week, I’ve gotten quite a few compliments on the dishes I’ve prepared, both from family and guests alike. There’s no other feeling like the warm fuzzies you get when someone of your household tells others:

‘Why should I go out to eat when I can have a meal that tastes amazing at home?’

Oh yes, I’m feeling the love.

Panna Cotta

1 packet Gelatin, unflavored
16.5 oz Heavy cream
2 oz Half and half
4 oz Whole milk
2.75 oz Agave nectar 
1/4 tsp. Vanilla

Place the heavy cream, half and half, and agave nectar in a medium saucepan on medium heat until simmering (but not boiling).
In a large mixing bowl, particularly one with a spout, sprinkle the gelatin in with the whole milk and let stand for 5 – 10 minutes.
Pour the hot Panna Cotta mixture in with the milk and whisk until the gelatin in thoroughly dissolved and has lost that grainy texture.
Put into the fridge in the way* you are serving the Panna Cotta for three hours to overnight, when the dessert has solidified.

*If you want to serve the Panna Cotta freestanding, lightly oil the molds and let sit, then flipping them over onto another plate. If you want to do what I did, pour the liquid mixture into wine glasses and place fruit puree on top after it sets (I suggest sherbet glasses… which I did not have on hand).

Serves 6 – 8 people.

The Virgin Mojito Cantaloupe Bowl

Sometimes the best recipes are the simple ones. These are the ones with few ingredients, the ones that take minimal effort to make. And for some strange reason, they taste like something the cooking pantheon would want on their dining table.

Simple recipes are also very flexible in the context in which they are eaten. This recipe can be served as a side for any meal, a refreshing snack at any time, or a light dessert after a rather heavy dinner. It only has three ingredients, takes less than ten minutes to put together, and can be served a plethora of ways.

The Virgin Mojito Cantaloupe Bowl

1/2 Cantaloupe, cut into bite-sized cubes (or made into balls using the Melon Baller as I had)
1/2 Lime, juiced
3 Mint leaves, finely diced (+ whole leaves for garnishing purposes)

In a medium-sized bowl, mix the melon cubes (or balls), lime juice, and mint leaves until thoroughly combined.
Place in up to four dessert bowls and garnish with whole mint leaves.
You can serve immediately or put in the freezer up to thirty minutes until chilled and slightly frozen.

Serves 2 – 4 people.

The Creative Mind & Philly Cheesesteak Stuffed Green Peppers

I’ve always believed a Creative Mind is a terrible thing to waste. A good friend of mine asked me, after recently sampling a few of my meals, how I was able to come up with my recipes. I was rather baffled by the question, because it never occurred to me that making up recipes as I cooked them was anything special. Sometimes, they turned out amazing. And sometimes… well, not so much.

The Creative Mind is a wondrous entity. It’s that little voice in your head that gives you an image, a word, a recipe, an equation, a feeling, or all of the above. For cooking, it may tell you that a combination of flavors or ingredients may or may not work, encouraging you to go out of your comfort zone. If it didn’t turn out as you expected and/or wanted, this voice will not criticize or yell. Rather, it may say what could be done differently the next time and to try it again. It turns flops into learning experiences. It turns the process of making a meal into an adventure. It turns the meal into a cornucopia of insight.

I find it interesting how my week of R & R was my Creative Mind’s time to producing one amazing recipe after another in my mind’s eye, resulting in meals I never considered until I made them. Most of the recipes I didn’t even take photos of, though I did write them down for future reference. My Creative Mind shined through this week, and more often than not I was in the kitchen, making a mess or two.

For a moment I feared that cooking was replacing my other artistic loves, partially because it has been years since I’ve written poetry on a regular basis or drew more than a sketch in a college notebook. The only thing I’ve really photographed lately has been food and/or blog-related, not like the plethora of photos of people, places, and my viewpoints of life as I’d done six months before. Now I realize I haven’t lost my artistic talents, but they have evolved into a specific focus as opposed to having many fingers in many cooking pots. Cookery is the art form that allows me to share my work with others in a way I’ve never been able to do with my other artistic talents.

To strengthen your Creative Mind in regards to cooking, I recommend looking for inspiration everywhere you can, whether it be from cookbooks, television shows, blogs, family members, and friends. I have a tendency to stray away from recipes, particularly because my Creative Mind likes to think it came up with the idea on its own (but I do give credit where it is due, and will always link to the original recipe or site my source).

When you have an idea, whether it be directed to a certain ingredient, cuisine, or food type, picture it in your Mind’s Eye using all the senses. Imagine what it will Look like, from start to finish. Visualize the Sounds that will come from making the dish. Envision the Smells wafting from the product. Think of how it [utensils, bakeware, and ingredients] would Feel in your hands, then in your mouth, as you Taste it. I like to balance meals, but at the same time use ingredients that many wouldn’t think of as compatible. When I’m unsure, I have a tendency to smell ingredients side by side, or taste the combination of flavors when I can. If it doesn’t smell or taste “right” to you and your Creative Mind, it may not turn out the way you’re expecting. One thing I stress, however, is that looks can be deceiving so try not to solely base a recipe on sight alone.

(source)

Sometimes, the best way you can enhance your Creative Mind is by taking a classic and putting your own twist to make it unique. To quote one of my favorite gastro-adventurers of all time, Bizarre Foods’ Andrew Zimmern, “If it looks good, eat it.” But I say unto you, “If you can think it, make it.”

The only person keeping you from making a fabulous meal is yourself.

 Philly Cheesesteak Stuffed Green Peppers

3 Green bell peppers, halved vertically
1 Medium white onion, halved vertically and sliced into thin shreds
3 Garlic cloves, finely diced
12 – 16 oz Shaved beefsteak, coarsely chopped into manageable, bite-sized pieces
10 shakes (1/2 tsp.) Red chili pepper flakes
1 tsp Salt
3 slices of Fontina cheese, cut into 6 pieces
3 thick slices Large tomato, cut into crescents

Preheat the oven to 350°F.
In a large steaming pot (or skillet filled up to an inch of water), steam the peppers on high heat until soft.
In a large greased skillet, cook the onions, garlic, salt, and pepper flakes until the onions are translucent and soft on medium heat.
Add the shaved beefsteak and stir until the steak is fully cooked and the ingredients thoroughly mixed.
On a greased baking sheet (or lined with parchment or aluminum), place the peppers facing up.
Using tongs, put the beefsteak-onion filling into the peppers.
Lay the cheese slices on top, and the tomato crescents on top of the cheese.
Sprinkle salt and pepper as garnish, and put them into the oven for 15 minutes. (You can also broil to slightly brown the tops for three minutes after the 15 minutes are up.)
Top with sour cream and serve with a side of rice.

Makes 6 stuffed pepper halves. Serves 3 as a main course, and 6 as a starter.

The Tao of Cooking & Silly Old Bears

To think, I had almost forgotten. I had almost forgotten how effortless life could be, how stress could be easily averted. There was a time that I would go out with friends and still have time for school, for work, for self reflection, and for family. These days it seemed like it took a lot of work to simply exist, to be with people and be alone.

The Vinegar Tasters (source)

This is my week of R & R, the week I slowly and surely move back into the groove of being back home with the folks. My grades were better than I expected, and ended up with a 3.23 GPA for the semester, with A’s for classes I thought I wouldn’t get A’s in and passed the classes I thought I was failing with fairly good marks. My summer internship with the Benjamin Franklin Summer Institute for South and Central Asia is underway, and Andy Shallal from Busboys and Poets got in contact with me to discuss working with him in the future (I was so honored that he remembered me). Overall, my health is improving, and with my body temperature finally at 98.6°F, I can happily say I’m no longer one of the Lizard People.

So, with all these wonderful things going on, why was I not at peace? Why was I not happy being still? Why was I not content with myself, overly self-critical and focusing on things I was not and things I couldn’t control?

This is where a certain Silly Old Bear comes in… and Benjamin Hoff’s book The Tao of Pooh.

(source)

It occurred to me that there might be a reason to my frustrations of feeling I wasn’t doing enough. I felt dreadful that I hadn’t gone to the gym in almost two weeks, not counting the physical labor I had done with moving out of campus housing and back home last Wednesday. I felt useless and lazy by wanting to sleep and relax while there was clearly still work to be had. I looked in the mirror and saw what my “lack” of working out was doing to my body, becoming “soft” and “getting bigger” as I stared at my reflection.

This is what I had forgotten: as long as I had preconceived notions and expectations of what my life should be like, I would never be happy. I would never have time to enjoy the present while worrying about what I did or didn’t do, what I am and am not doing, and what I will and will not do. For the past year, maybe more, I was the “Bisy Backson” in which Benjamin Hoff dedicated an entire chapter in his book. I was desperately active, the Athletic sort of Backson, working when I worked, working when I exercised, and working when I played. No wonder this year left me a charred empty shell of what I used to be. No wonder life kept trying to subtly tell me to slow down time and time again, keeping me from doing things I planned with people. I didn’t have time for life, for the people and things that mattered most to me, simply because I was spending all my time and energy worrying about it. To quote this marvelous book, “Enjoyment of the process is the secret that erases the Great Reward and Saving Time.” I forgot the beauty of the journey and the process by hungrily focusing on the destination and the outcome.

Recently I’ve unknowingly incorporated the Taoist philosophy into cooking. I learned to let foods sit and be at rest, making batters in advance and leaving it overnight in order to mimic their gluteny cousins for the best effects. The same goes for other dishes (some naturally gluten free anyway), but it is more about flavor than it is about texture.

The magnificence of the process of cookery is how the outcome is considerably different than it is when you first combine the ingredients. Last night I was frustrated with the broth I made for a coconut curry vegetable soup to side with my oven-baked curry chicken. The green curry paste overpowered the other ingredients, and it was saltier than I wanted, so I added a little of this and a pinch of that, thinking I’d have to dump the whole thing when it still tasted off (I didn’t want to serve my parental units a less than delicious recipe). In my pessimistic state, I turned off the heat and left it on the stove. When Mama Dazz came home from work, the broth took on a new persona. It no longer tasted like bitter seawater with a kaffir lime leaf, coconut, and curry aftertaste. In fact, it had a balanced flavor of all the broth ingredients, including the vegetables I had put into it.

The Tao of cooking is pretty straightforward, once you understand it. There is a time when it is appropriate to fiddle with a recipe (i.e., the process), and there is a time when it is appropriate to leave it alone (i.e., letting it be on its own accord). Gluten free cooking, especially when baking, typically deals with the latter.

Benjamin Hoff with Pooh and Piglet (source)

As a recovering and sometimes relapsing Bisy Backson, I end this post with a thought-provoking excerpt:

“It’s not surprising, therefore, that the Backson thinks of progress in terms of fighting and overcoming… Of course, real progress involves growing and developing, which involves changing inside.” (B. Hoff)

This is what I’d forgotten. This is what I remembered. This is what I learned.

The Mediterranean Table: Tzatziki

It’s no secret: I love Mediterranean and Middle Eastern food. The only thing I love more than eating it is making it. I love the spices, the aromas, the textures, the colors, the different ways foods are prepared… Oh! I could go on and on. 

My father was born in Morocco on a U.S. Air Base, and maybe the idea that he was there for the first few years of his life had initially sparked my interest of the food around that area. While abroad I made friends with a lovely French-born Moroccan gentleman, who told hilarious stories and made a tagine (without the tagine) dinner I’ll never forget. I love how the majority of that region’s cuisine is naturally gluten free, or easily adapted to whatever your dietary restrictions are.

Tzatziki

8 oz Seedless cucumber, grated
16 oz Greek yogurt
15 Mint leaves, or 2 tsp. when put through the food processor
1/2 Medium white onion, finely chopped

Add the grated veggies and mint into a medium-sized bowl, stirring until completely mixed.
Fold in the yogurt with the vegetables.
Put in the fridge to chill up to an hour or overnight.

Serve as a garnish, a small salad, or a condiment.  

The Mediterranean Table: Tabouli

There was a time that the words "green" and "leafy" were terms I didn't want anything to do with in regards to food. As a kid I’d slather my dinner salad with ketchup or hot sauce, just to avoid the crunchy lettuce green underneath. I didn’t like sliced tomatoes, only in sauces or condiments. I liked raw celery, but only if there was something creamy on top. My parents had to literally hide vegetables in really creative ways just so I'd have a more balanced diet. This went on for years, even the months prior to becoming gluten free.

But I’m a different person; vegetables are Morri’s best friends. In fact, the Burt-man gripes how large the dinner salads I make are. At most, it’s three servings of veggies… maybe.

The best thing about salads is the creative license that comes with making them. You can put anything into it, from vegetables to fruits to nuts to protein to grains. They can be vegan, vegetarian, dairy free, and/or gluten free. They can be a starter to any meal, the meal itself, or a light snack in between. It’s a beautiful concept, really.

Whenever our favorite family friend comes to visit to talk shop about community conflict resolution, we always have a Mediterranean buffet on the dinner table with a smorgasbord of meats, breads, spreads, and veggies. Tabouli (or tabbouleh) was, for some reason or another, one of the few vegetable plates I actually enjoyed during my pre-evolved palate years. It was also one of the dishes I missed after going gluten free. But there’s a way to making it without the bulgur wheat among the parsley. Sure, you can just remove the bulgur wheat, but I think the salad would be lacking.

This is the beauty of quinoa. This South American seed is a wonderful substitution for the gluteny specks. Plus, it’s filled with protein-packed goodness with a mild taste that really enhances the overall flavor.

Quinoa Tabouli

Two bushels Parsley
1/2 Medium white onion, finely diced
2 c. Quinoa, cooked
1 c. Seedless cucumber, finely diced
16 oz Cherry tomatoes, quartered
1 tsp. Crushed garlic
13 Mint leaves put through the food processor, roughly 1 1/2 tsp.
1/3 c. Olive oil
1/6 c. Unrefined apple cider vinegar
1 Lemon, juiced
1/2 tsp. Sea salt
1/4 tsp. Pepper
1 – 2 tsp. Black sesame seeds

In a medium pot or rice cooker, cook the two cups of dry quinoa by the instructions on the box.
When the quinoa is done, set aside to cool.
Wash the bushel of parsley and drain of excess water, then pull the leaves off the stems.
Add the remaining ingredients in with the parsley, and fold in the quinoa (this salad is quinoa-heavy, so if you want the focus to be on the veggies, use half of the quinoa).
This can be served immediately or made ahead of time and put it the fridge to chill.

Serves 6 – 8 people as a side salad.

The Mediterranean Table: Hummus

It’s my first official week as a free woman. Free from studying and papers and campus life. Free from exams and classrooms and PowerPoint slides. Summer vacation is here, and everyone I know and love has gone back to their lives outside of school, where family and internships and summer jobs await them.

Last week was a medley of deep thoughts and philosophies. I kept thinking how I seemed so detached and isolated from my life back in the states since Sweden. I was invited to parties and other fun activities, but for some reason I didn’t end up going. I spent my weekends at home with the family instead of on campus. As awesome as my roommates were, they had their own lives to attend to and were rarely at the townhouse. The off campus housing community wasn’t as close-knit or as lively as I remember it being my first and second semesters at Mason. I spent the majority of this semester either at home, in the classroom, or alone with my thoughts.

As mentioned before, I was accepted to be part of a wonderful program this summer. The meeting held on Monday was quite intimidating, but a learning experience. For one, I am the youngest member of the team, and the only undergraduate among them. The rest are either entering the S/CAR Masters program, are in the Masters program, or on the road to earning a PhD. These people knew what they wanted to do with their degree, knew exactly their point of focus. And here I was, one semester shy of graduating, and life has so many options to choose from I’m getting lightheaded just thinking about it. But from this meeting I learned something about myself, something I didn’t realize to be a true-blue term for what I’ve been going through.

The term, my friends, is reverse culture shock.

There are two elements to defining reverse culture shock: one, an idealized view of home and two, the expectation of total familiarity (that nothing at home has changed while you have been away). Typically students coming home from being abroad are able to pick up from where they left off. Only when their reality is not meeting their expectations is there a problem. The four stages of RCS are disengagement, initial euphoria, irritability and frustration, then readjustment and adaptation. In a matter of nine months I had to move in and out of places seven times, so I don’t think I’ve felt settled since last summer. Much is changing, and friends are off in their own realities that seem farther away then they were a year ago. My outlet for my isolation and estrangement has been making meals for others. In the kitchen, as I prepare a bowl of this or a plate of that, I know that I’m important, that I matter. Cooking has been my way of feeling stable in a world that kept going after I left and came back.

Being abroad really shifted my priorities. I love traveling, and I still do, but I’m done with packing and unpacking every few months into another place. I want stability, a place that I (and a select few of my extended family) can call our own for as long as we wish. I’m done with my life being in boxes, of feeling like a part of me has been put on hold in my attempt to get back into the groove this side of the states grooves to.

This weekend I overexerted myself to feeling like a valuable part of the household by cooking, after three exams and moving out of the townhouse in a matter of hours. We had a close family friend stay with us, and I was determined to do my part to make her feel welcome. Since she is from the Mediterranean, we typically go to a bakery that supplies Mediterranean favorites: pita bread, hummus, baklava, and various teas. But I wanted to make some of the things we bought from scratch, just to see how it would turn out.

And let me tell you, homemade is always better than store-bought, especially when you make it gluten free.

These next few posts will give you a taste of what was on the dinner table on Friday, what was made fresh on Saturday, and what was still enjoyed on Sunday. The beauty about Mediterranean cuisine is how easy, refreshing, and filling meals can be.

Hummus

2 15 oz cans Garbanzo beans, drained of excess water
2 Lemons, juiced
2 tbsp. Olive oil
5 tbsp. Tahini
3 tbsp. Filtered water
1/4 tsp. Cumin
2 dashes Sumac
2 dashes Garlic powder
1/4 tsp. Pepper
Paprika and sesame seeds, for garnish

In a food processor (or blender), combine all the ingredients until thoroughly combined.
If you want it smoother, add more water or tahini.

Makes a heaping bowl of the stuff.

Celebrating Summer with Good Intentions Chili

I’ve been wanting to blog since Wednesday, when it was my first official day of summer. It seemed, however, the Universe had other plans. I spent Wednesday moving out of campus housing (which I thought I had until Thursday, but then the RAs came and said I was to have moved out four hours ago), thanks to a friend who’s working for the Burt-man, driving one of the company’s delivery vans. By Thursday, I had made a great meal, but was too tired to do anything but take a photo or two. On Friday, we were expecting a great family friend to stay with us for the weekend, so I had to haul all of my unpacked college life into my bedroom and clean as thoroughly as eight hours would allow.

Naturally, I had to cook something fantastic simultaneously, but the consequence of crashing was not how I envisioned my first days back home would be like.

For the majority of the past few days, I’ve been in the reality between the waking and dreaming worlds. My head ached, my stomach and digestive system were topsy-turvy and tender, and I found myself lying on my stomach just so I could sleep through the discomfort. I was sneezing, lethargic, and all I wanted to do was curl up with the cats and read a Neil Gaiman classic or cook. When I cook, I feel more than useful; I feel needed, a respected member of the household, contributing to those who come under our roof in search of comfort and love.

Cooking, as I’ve discussed, is more than science, but a combination of magic and art and time that can have a repeated outcome if done properly. Cooking is just as therapeutic to the one in the kitchen as it is to those eating the meal. The emotions and mindset you have while preparing a meal is just as important as the individual ingredients going into it. A meal made with good intentions, with love and happy thoughts, tastes significantly better than a meal made with someone who puts their bad day into their food.

Trust me, you can taste the difference.

The reason why I love soups and stews, specifically the chili I’ve known since I was a toddler, is because you can turn it into a meal filled with so much love that whomever eats it will feel a sense of belonging and ease. For each bay leaf or garlic clove or individual spices I use, I like to think of something that I feel the household wants and needs. As I drop ingredients into the pot, depending on the day I imagine with all my being whatever comes to mind: prosperity, a happy home, inspiration, and countless others. By the end of it, not only will the meal taste amazing, but also I feel so much better than I had when I started. 

Good Intentions Chili

16 oz Ground turkey (or whatever ground meat you have on hand around that weight)
1 tbsp. Olive oil
1 Red onion, coarsely chopped
15 oz (1 can) Black beans, drained
15 oz (1 can) Pinto beans, drained
28 oz (1 large can or two regular cans) Diced tomatoes
8 oz Filtered water
2 oz Cabernet Sauvignon (or any other dry red wine)
1 Red bell pepper, finely diced
1 Green bell pepper, finely diced
2 Medium carrots, peeled and sliced into small pieces

For the Spice combination:
1 tsp. Chipotle powder
1 tsp. Cumin powder
1 tsp. Paprika
A pinch of Saffron
1/4 tsp. Pepper
1/2 tsp. Sea salt
1/4 tsp. Sweet basil

Pour the olive oil (or whichever oil you prefer) into a large pot over medium-high heat.
Place in the ground meat and, with a wooden spoon, stir and break apart the meat until completely cooked and separated.
Add the spices to the meat until thoroughly mixed, and then add the remaining ingredients.
Cover the pot and let sit over medium heat for at least an hour (I like the smokiness of cooking it for a period of 3 – 5 hours).
Garnish each bowl with your choice of sour cream, cheese, diced onion, avocado, or all of the above.

Serves 4 – 6 people.

Finals, Goodbyes, and Yeasted Waffles

Two exams down. Two more to go. Both are today, and one is within an hour.

The end of the school year has been one heck of a roller coaster ride. One week, I feel on top of the world, attending classes and going to the gym. The week after, I’m like my fellow peers, tearing out my hair because it seems like I can’t hold on to the information I learned in my classes or textbooks.

Last week I wanted to try grain-free eating, which turned out to be a big mistake on my part. When you have a hypothyroid condition and you’re gluten free, you need those nutrients found in grains to be happy, healthy, and whole. I managed five days and by the end of it, I felt like I was carrying the weight of the world while sleepwalking through the day. I couldn’t study. I couldn’t read, even for recreational purposes. I couldn’t write. I couldn’t blog. It was awful.

I admit it; going grain-free during the last week of school was a bit much. Plus, with the sadness of the boyfriend leaving for his internship on Saturday and the stress of moving out of campus housing… there’s only so much a Morri can take in a week.

There are upsides to this post, however. After IB left that morning, the family met up later in the day for some good ol’ family hilarity. We talked around the table, passing meade clockwise, and I cried a little. I will (and do) miss him, but I believe he will be simply amazing this summer in Texas, and will learn a lot about himself. I couldn’t be prouder, Love.

That is why I made him waffles that morning. Yeasted waffles, actually; a breakfast I’ve never tried before, even with a mix. I may have been burnt out to do anything school-related, but in the kitchen I was at peace.

As for going grain-free, I think having recipes under this category (much like vegetarian, vegan, SCD, ACD, and paleo), are great to have throughout the day, sometimes for a day or two to cleanse your system. But as far as being grain-free for every meal, I think I’ll stick to what works best for my body and have the gluten free “grains” I love.

Overnight Yeasted Waffles (adapted from Annie Eats)

4 oz Warm water, about 110ºF
2.25 tsp. (or one packet) Active dry yeast
16 oz Whole milk, warmed
4 oz Unsalted butter, melted
1/4 tsp. Sea salt
1 tsp. Agave nectar (or whatever sweetener you prefer)
5 oz White rice flour
1 oz Millet flour
1 oz Amaranth flour
1 oz Buckwheat flour
1 oz Cornmeal, finely ground
1 oz Almond meal
2 tsp. Vanilla
2 large eggs, separated
1/4 tsp. Baking soda

Combine the water and yeast in a large mixing bowl until the yeast has fully dissolved.
Add the milk, butter, salt, agave nectar, flours, and vanilla, mixing by hand or with an electric mixer. Note: the batter will be runny but will thicken over time.
Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and let sit overnight on the counter. (It will rise significantly, with a loose spongy texture, and will fall slightly.)

The next day, preheat the waffle iron.
Also preheat the oven to 200ºF and place a plate in the center. (This is where the waffles can be kept warm until you are ready to serve them.)
Just before pouring the batter, add in the baking soda and egg yolks until completely integrated.
With an electric mixer or by hand, whisk the egg whites into soft peaks and fold into the batter.
Cook the waffles via the waffle iron’s specifications. (I had to grease the waffle iron before every pour to keep the batter from sticking.)

Makes 24 individual waffle squares. Serves 4 – 6 people.

Combatting Stress with Saucy Spaghetti Q’s and More-Than-Meatballs

I should be studying for my final exam tomorrow. I should be studying for my final(s) next week. I should be packing up my things and slowly moving back home. I should be doing a lot of things, but am I doing them? 

Sadly, no.

Instead, I’m downing a steaming cup of espresso with steamed whole milk and thinking of what to write for today’s post, trying to keep my eyes open while I await the arrival of my late dinner guests. Today was the first day in such a long time that all was quiet and peaceful (save for waking up two hours earlier than I wanted to, in tears, from a nightmare). I got to extend my morning routine past noon, wearing my bloodthirsty bunny slippers with pride. I got to run five miles without having to be elsewhere immediately afterward. Sure, I was productive; I ran five miles after all, and I did a load of laundry while putting away dishes.

This week has been stressful, and most of it had little to do with academics. I said goodbye to old friends, of whom it may be quite some time until I see them again. The boyfriend is leaving on Saturday for his annual summer internship (this time in Texas), and I am trying to be strong about that. I’ve taken a break from “grains” for a bit, and have been trying out different types of breakfasts in the morning. And after the semester ends, when I’m officially moved out of campus housing and back into the parental units’ abode, I’m cleansing my system for a week.

I’m doing all I can to take care of myself, but sometimes I feel it isn’t enough.

Just for the record, I am compensating my lack of grain intake with other food and I’m sleeping a good number of hours a night. But when I look at the study guides and the take-home exam for my four classes, my eyes glaze over and I look for other things to do.

Also, tomorrow’s exam is probably the one I’m going to do the best on (besides the take-home final), simply because it’s my favorite class this semester taught by one of my favorite professors in S/CAR. But when you get right down the things you have to do in a day/week/month like I do, life tends to overwhelm you. No matter how well you hide it, the stress builds up and all you want to do is laze on a hammock and listen to music that comforts you (Carlos Santana, Tori Amos, Chris Botti, and the Indigo Girls come to mind). 

I think I have a hammock around here… somewhere.

On Monday I told Cheryl all the things that were simultaneously going on in my life, how the calorie counting and poor body image had returned, how simply being seemed simply impossible, how the future seemed hazy, how isolated I felt from the people that mattered most to me, how I wanted to try grain-free living for a week or so, then a cleanse after school let out.

She answered my frustrations, questions, and fears with a story:

(source)

Mara Comes for Tea - Retold from Thich Nhat Hanh's Heart of Understanding

One day the Buddha was sitting in meditation in his cave while his most trusted disciple, Ananda, was outside collecting food for their next mealtime. Ananda looked up from his chores when he saw, coming toward the cave, the Buddha's nemesis, Mara. Mara was a demon king who sought to prevent the Buddha from reaching enlightenment beneath the bodhi tree. Since then he had continued to be a perpetual thorn in the Buddha's side, so to speak, cultivating greed, desire and hatred in men. Ananda new this and was immediately enraged by his appearance at the Buddha's cave.

Ananda approached Mara: "Get out of here! The Buddha does not wish to have his cave invaded by demons!"

Mara replied: "Go and ask him for yourself. I simply wish to speak with your master."

Reluctantly and nervously Ananda did as the demon king asked and entered the Buddha's cave. "World Honored One, the demon king, Mara approaches your cave and seeks an audience with you. I have already instructed him to leave but he insisted I ask you myself."

The Buddha's eyes opened from his meditation and he smiled, widely. "Mara is here? Really? It has been so long since we have spoken. Yes, yes, ready some tea and invite him in and we'll talk."

Dumbfounded, Ananda did as the Buddha asked, putting a pot on the fire to boil and then going outside to tell Mara that he was welcome in the Buddha's cave. "As I knew I would be, little Ananda," said the demon king arrogantly, brushing past the Buddha's humble disciple.

When Mara entered the cave the Buddha rose to his feet, nearly leaping into the air with excitement. "Mara, my good friend, it has been so long since we have seen each other. Please sit, have some tea and tell me why you have come to visit."

Ananda was very nervous now and listened to the conversation between his master and the demon. Mara sipped his tea slowly and then spoke. "Buddha, things are not going well. I wish to be something else. Something other than Mara."

"But, Mara, you are so good at being Mara. Remember when you sent images of sense pleasures and warnings of how difficult it would be for me to fully reach enlightenment when I sat beneath the bodhi tree? That was a fantastic job of being Mara. I really had to struggle to get where I am now. I truly owe you a debt of gratitude."

Now Ananda was getting very fearful. He did not like the idea of Buddha having a debt of gratitude to Mara. This was very upsetting but he listened further.

"Well, I suppose you are right," said Mara, "but being Mara I always have to be sneaking around in the shadows, talking in riddles and half-truths. It is such hard work always trying to think of the best things to say and do. I just...I think it would be easier to be something else. And the worst part: my disciples are now talking of non-duality, peace, social justice, non-violence...it is so frustrating being Mara. I think it would be much better if you took my disciples. Maybe we could switch for a while? You could be Mara and I could try being Buddha?"

At this request Ananda's heart really began to pound. He knew that his master had just said he owed Mara a debt and he also knew how profound his master's compassion truly was. He had seen him give to others when he had almost nothing. He was terrified that he would now become the disciple of Mara and the Buddha would become a demon king. No worse thought was imaginable.

The Buddha thought. He sipped his tea. And then he spoke: "Mara, do you think it is just frustrating being Mara? Being the Buddha is equally...no, doubly frustrating, I guarantee. You think you have trouble with your disciples? Mine put words in my mouth and write them into "sutras" that I have never said. I teach them about non-attachment to material things and what do they do? They build stupas and erect shrines in my name! They even build enormous statues of me out of gold just to pray to even though I have told them time and time again that I am not a god. And they sell trinkets in temples with my words blazed upon them. It is an absolute pain. But I do not give up being Buddha because that is what I am."

Mara sighed and vanished into the shadows. Ananda felt slightly relieved but continued to worry that one day Mara would get what he ultimately wanted.

Mara is Sanskrit for delusion, for the things we fear most and things that block our way to personal enlightenment. Mara is the demons that keep us from seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, the monsters in the labyrinth, the fears that drive us to insomnia.

It is human nature to avert our minds from the things that frighten us or, in my case, stresses us out. For me, inviting Mara to tea is a frequent affair, but it is one I like to keep short. As a conflict resolution major, we are taught to know ourselves, what our triggers are, what we are feeling and why.

Does that mean that the men and women of this discipline are calm and collected every hour of the day? No, it doesn’t. Mara is just as scary and intimidating, but I believe we can name our personal Mara much easier. 

So, if I invited Mara to tea (and maybe offer it this recipe as well), what would it reflect back to me across the table? Mara would reflect doubt in my abilities, uncertainty in my future, isolation from friends and family, loneliness from busy life I lead, lack of motivation, the frustrations of my health, my hunger, the stress of being in college… I could go on.

Naming Mara is half the battle, but it is a crucial step to getting to where you want to be. Mara will come and go, but you are the constant variable in the equation. As long as I remember that, all the current fears, stresses, and frustrations will pass.

In the mean time, as I’m all about comfort these days, this recipe took me back to those days when I was home sick and Campbell’s canned SpaghettiO’s were always in the pantry where I could reach.

So for those dealing with finals and graduation and other stressful things, I wish you all the luck in the world. Just take it one step at a time and, before you know it, it will be one less thing to fret about. And as for this recipe, anything with meatballs is the quintessence of comfort in my book.

Saucy Spaghetti Q’s and More-Than-Meatballs

For the meatballs
1 lb. Ground beef
1 c. Frozen petite peas, thawed
1/2 White onion, finely diced
1 Large egg
1 tsp. Dijon mustard
1/2 tsp. Crushed garlic

1 tbsp. Olive oil, for the skillet
1/3 – 1/2 c. water, for the skillet

For the Sauce
1 15 oz can Tomato sauce
1/2 Red onion, coarsely chopped
7 Baby Bella mushrooms, thinly sliced
1 Zucchini, quartered and thinly slices
Salt and pepper, to taste
Red pepper flakes, optional

For the Spaghetti Q’s
1 c. or more of Quinoa, cooked in your method of choice (typically the water-quinoa ratio is 2:1, but check the box for instructions anyway)

Combine the ingredients for the More-Than-Meatballs (excluding the oil and water) in a large bowl until thoroughly combined.
Add the oil and water in a large pot or deep skillet over medium heat.
Make the meatballs into whatever size you wish (I wanted particularly small ones, so I used the 1/4 c. measuring cup and split that into two meatballs), and place them into the pot or skillet.
Let the meatballs cook for about five minutes, then add the ingredients for the sauce.
Cover and cook on medium to low heat for thirty minutes. (During this time, you can cook the quinoa if you haven’t done so already.)
Once all of the parts of the meal are ready, place in the desired helping of quinoa at the bottom of each bowl and top with meatballs and sauce.
Garnish with your choice of cheese and/or sour cream (I used ricotta and it was delicious!).

Serves 4.

"Love Incarnate" White Bean and Kielbasa Stew

To celebrate the one-month anniversary of this blog, I want to take a moment, step back, and really reflect what Meals with Morri has done for me. As Finals (with a capital “F”) are mere days away, other stresses have come at me in waves to the point that I’m questioning my place in this beautiful world of ours. For one brief moment I wondered if this blog was worth it, and the calorie counting and poor body image reared their obnoxious heads. I know people visit this site, and for that I am honored, but it suddenly occurred to me why I was doing this.

I’m not posting recipes and taking pictures of food for recognition or popularity. I’m not competing with other bloggers to see how many times my blog is visited for the rush of being heard. I have no ulterior motive other than sharing my experiences, insights, and recipes with the rest of the world.

This blog has been in the making for a little over a year. I would have started posting sooner, only I had been in Sweden and simply surviving abroad took up plenty of my time. Then, I dropped my point-and-shoot digital camera, so I waited until I had enough money to buy a digital SLR camera. In the meantime, I adjusted to life back at Mason, purchased a Bento box and food scale. I met up with old friends, making new ones along the way. And after my beautiful camera finally came… well, the rest is history.

On Thursday I witnessed something that upset me greatly. As I was walking to class there was a ring of students around an individual, laughing and calling out things I couldn't hear. The individual was a man who he and others like him go to colleges around the country to “Preach the Good Word”, essentially harassing the students with verbal abuse until one cracks and takes a swing. I kid you not, people use a good idea to sue universities.

It wasn’t the response from the students that angered me, but the fact they gave him the attention he wanted. This man was shouting out words of intolerance, so filled with the h-word and not at all what that philosophy was originally about. When the three-hour class let out for break, he was still there, shouting at the top of his lungs. The students laughed, and I was near tears.

Part of me wanted to buy the man some water (because all that screaming must be hard on the vocal cords). That same part of me wanted to get in the middle of the circle with the man, and do what he was not. I wanted to spread love and shout it to the heavens, to tell every single person (even the h-word driven man) that they are loved and cherished. Images of me spreading compassion and acceptance with encouraging messages tied to flowers came to mind.

I just may do that.

Please don’t misunderstand me, however; a “Good Word” of any idea, religion, or discipline that preaches togetherness and love for the world is wonderful. And I have no problem with people doing that on campus, be they Christian, Agnostic, Muslim, Buddhist, Jewish, Hindu, Pagan, etc. But this man was doing no such thing. He was preaching his agenda where the love should’ve been. What I saw was h-word in action.

You may have noticed that I am using "h-word" instead of spelling out the word that rhymes with plate. This unwelcoming and counterproductive word has no place on this blog (except for here, and it was to quote Charles M. Schultz). This blog is about what happens in my life revolving around health, food, fitness, and healing. That is why I don’t use bad language or discuss politics or religion in detail. Yes, I’m a spiritual person. Yes, I have personal opinions regarding my existence and the world around me. But my answer to that is: “Hey, who doesn’t?”

I want people from all over the world to visit this blog, regardless of age, ethnicity, religion, and political views, for the recipes and a brief moment or two knowing what it is like to be me. Nothing more, wonderful readers, and nothing less. Should I stray away from this promise, if I use the blasted h-word (other than to quote someone), send me an email and I will correct it.

After Thursday’s class let out, you can bet your bottom dollar I was bummed. It was dinner with the folks for the week, and the boyfriend was due to come by. I wanted to make something that was comforting and filling the void where the man’s words had dug into my being. There was so much change happening in my life, and I wanted the open arms only loved ones can give.

I wanted the warmth of a kitchen, and this recipe was exactly what a Down-in-the-dumps Morri needed.

Above all else, lovely readers, thank you for making this month such an enlightening experience, with plenty more months to come.

"Love Incarnate" White Bean and Kielbasa Stew

32 oz Veggie stock
8 oz Dry white wine (I used Pinot Grigio)
1 tbsp. Olive oil
30 oz (2 cans) White kidney beans
16 oz (1 bag) Frozen petite peas
14.5 oz (1 can) Roasted tomatoes with green chiles
3 Garlic cloves, coarsely chopped
1 – 2 oz Frozen chopped spinach
1 Medium white onion, diced
8 Frozen colossal wild shrimp, raw
12 oz Kielbasa, chopped into bite sized pieces
1/2 tsp. Sea salt
1/4 tsp. Pepper 
3 Bay leaves   
1/4 tsp. Sage
1/2 tsp. Italian seasoning
Pinch of Tarragon

Place the ingredients (excluding the shrimp and kielbasa) in a large cooking pot or pressure cooker on medium heat.
When the liquid comes to a boil, add in the shrimp.
Once the shrimp are fully cooked, take them out and set aside.
Place the kielbasa in with the rest of the ingredients and let the stew cook up to an hour.
After an hour (more or less), the beans will have thickened the broth, and will be ready to eat.
Serve with the shrimp and a dollop of sour cream on top (I heartily recommend eating it with gluten-free rice Pad Thai noodles, but it is delicious without).

Serves 4 with a definite chance of leftovers. 

Yerba Mate Chai Drop Scones

To all the mothers out there, especially my own:

I didn’t get you a card this year, and I didn’t get you flowers. On Saturday, we got pedicures and talked about life. On Sunday I made you breakfast: freshly brewed cappuccino with a revised version of the Yerba Mate Chai Scones and hardboiled eggs. We went food shopping for the week and talked about work and school. 

No Hallmark card or flower bouquet can ever describe how much you mean to me. Not even this blog post will do you justice.

I honor you every day of the year, and I thank you for all you have done for me.

My mother (known as Mama Dazz on this side of cyber space) has been supportive of everything I’ve set out to do, especially where my health and spirituality is concerned, including Meals with Morri. She has eaten a few of the recipes I’ve posted, and countless others that have yet to be recorded. She provides constructive criticism on what she liked about the meal, and what would make it better. 

I learned from her what it means to keep going, to hold on to the things you believe in, and to let go of the things that hold you back. She encouraged me to pursue a plethora of creative outlets, and I excelled in various forms of writing, drawing, and cooking.

She tells me she’s proud of me every day, and asks me “How did I get so lucky to have a daughter like you?”

She answers my questions with thoughtful and loving answers:

“If you were to describe my cooking style, be it regional or international,” I asked her when I made a particularly unique meal on Thursday, “what would you call it?”

“Metro fusion,” she said, “because your style is influenced by the many dinner tables of the international families you grew up with.”

Mama Dazz is a woman that works hard, loves many, and likes flamingos as much as I like bunnies.

I am so lucky and blessed to have her in my life.

So to all you mothers out there, those who are, those who will be, and those who’ve been, I honor you and wish you well. 

Yerba Mate Chai Drop Scones, (the revised version*) 

*As I mentioned in the previous scone recipes, I was fairly content with the end result, about 80 – 85%. I decided to try Ruhlman’s biscuit ratio, the same one I used with the bisckies, and the outcome was significantly better. I had to make them drop scones like Lauren had done with hers because the dough wasn’t pliable. And because my mother requested it, half were decorated with dried cranberries on top.

There is a slight bitterness at the end because of the quinoa flour, so I recommend substituting it with rice flour or adding an ounce to one of the flours listed. The Yerba Mate was steeped for much longer this time (over 24 hours) and sweetened with agave nectar. Vanilla was added to this recipe and really brought out the other flavors in the scones.

2 oz Tapioca starch
2 oz Amaranth flour
2 oz Millet flour
1 oz Quinoa (or another flour should you wish)
1 oz Coconut flour
1 oz Almond meal
2 tsp. Baking powder
1/2 tsp. Sea salt
1/2 tsp. Cinnamon
1/4 tsp. Nutmeg
1 tsp. Vanilla
1 Egg
1.5 oz Ripened avocado
1.5 oz Coconut oil, room temperature or melted
4 oz Yerba Mate, steeped for 24 hours and sweetened to your preference
2 oz So Delicious unsweetened coconut milk

Preheat the oven to 400ºF.
In a medium-sized mixing bowl, combine the flours, baking powder, salt, cinnamon, nutmeg, and vanilla.
Put the avocado, coconut oil, egg, coconut milk, and Yerba mate into a blender on low until there is an even consistency.
Using a wooden spoon, combine the wet and dry ingredients until the dough forms (It will be fluffy and light.
On a baking sheet lined with parchment paper (or greased), drop the dough into rounds using a 1/3 measuring cup and spoon.
Put dried cranberries or nuts on top (or throughout) and bake for 30 – 35 minutes.

Makes 6 scones.

Happy Belated Mothers Day, Mama Dazz. 

The Bento Box Snapshot: The Leftovers Stuffed Bell Pepper

You remember when I said I think I finally got the hang of Bento?

Yeah, about that...

Although I believe I am getting better at the nutritional balance aspect for every meal, it still remained on the lighter side. Maybe it had to do with it being the last official week of classes. Maybe I was particularly tired that day. But come 7:10 p.m. Tuesday evening, when my class let out, I was still hungry.

But that’s okay. I didn’t mind eating a bit more. The Old Me would’ve had a slight panic attack at the very idea of eating something after dinner if I dared to still be hungry. The Old Me would’ve counted calories and thought of ways to limit my intake the next day. Granted, I did go to the gym afterward, but that was due to my restless disposition instead of burning off the additional consumed foodage (okay, mostly).

This is a snapshot of what I’ll be having for lunch in a few hours. And I think this one will actually keep me full until dinner with the folks. I wasn’t even thinking about Cinco de Mayo (to me, it's just another day), but the end result turned out being very appropriate and festive. Plus, I got to clean out the fridge.

For today’s lunch:

Stuffed red bell pepper (cut horizontally) with: a halved slice of Fontina cheese layering the bottom, two BBQ patties mashed and mixed with 1/2 cup refried beans and a ring of finely diced red onion in the middle, and two rings of red onion on top. The red bell pepper was first softened using a boil/steam method on the stovetop. When all the ingredients were put together, I put them in a preheated oven at 350ºF for ten minutes.  Then, simply because the oven has a broil option, I broiled them on “high” for another 5 – 10 minutes.

The salad is a looser version of guacamole. It has 1/2 Kirby cucumber, 1 – 2 tbsp. finely diced red onion, 5 small heirloom tomatoes quartered, 1/2 lime, 1/4 avocado, and 1 tbsp. of Trader Joe’s Garlic Chipotle salsa.

I am also starting a new dosage of Armour Thyroid today. It is moving up to 60-60 a day; what that means, I'll let you know later.

Yerba Mate Chai Scones

(For the revised version of this recipe, click here.)

This morning reflected how I felt in a nutshell. It was rainy, cold, with a wind that chilled me down to my rain boots. George Mason is halfway through its last "official" week for the semester before finals. (I say "official" because some classes are making up for their snow days next week as well as finals.) People were literally dragging themselves to class, faculty members and students alike. There are final projects and papers to turn in, exams to study for, student organizations to finalize, internships to prepare for.

I’m not even graduating this semester and I feel slightly overwhelmed with it all.

The weather cleared up by the early afternoon, but the lethargy still remained. I wanted something to chase away the cold and uncertainty. I wanted warmth. I wanted comfort.

There are two things that do this: time and baking. That’s where this month’s Gluten-Free Ratio Rally comes in.

For some reason, I seem to miss the submission deadline for each challenge; that, and I am often confused as to who I’m supposed to talk to. Melanie from Mindful Food has been such a great help, sending me to the right people, simply being awesome... you know, the usual. I finally touched base with Erin from The Sensitive Epicure, to sign up for future rallies, and Lauren from Celiac Teen, the cutie patootie who is hosting the rally this month.

I like Lauren for quite a few reasons: one, she is simply adorable; two, she is an amazing blog writer and cook; and three, she thinks outside the box. I’ve been a huge fan of her blog for some time, marveling in the honesty and compassion for every word (and recipe) she writes.

There should be more Lauren’s in the world, but this particular Lauren challenged the rally to make scones.

Since this morning I kept thinking what type of scone I should make for the rally. I wanted this to be the recipe that proved my worth in the gluten-free community, where other bloggers for the cause would come out of the woodwork and say hello. It had to be perfect. It had to be unique. And with all the wonderful ideas I could come up with and proposed by friends, there was still one problem.

I had no idea how to make a scone. 

Like biscuits, scones are a relatively foreign concept to me. I’ve seen them in bakeries, cafés, and in stores, but they were so different from each other that making a batch of my own was terrifying. Were they like biscuits in texture or taste? Did they have to be cut in a certain way, and if so, was it in triangles or rounds? What size should they be? What should the dough feel like?

As I started to calm down and really think about it, I decided that regardless of the outcome, I would learn something. Even if I was too late to be part of this month’s rally, at least I got in contact with the right people for future fun. I then came up with my scone recipe and, like the bisckies before them, played by ear until it felt right.

That’s how you know a recipe is a keeper: it feels right.

The original recipe ratio called for 6 parts flour, 2.5 parts shortening, 1 part egg, and 3 parts milk. As time went on, however, I felt that the recipe called for 7 parts flour to make a better forming dough.

I looked down at the dough in my mixer, thinking that it should be 8 parts flour, and I paused. The dough was still rather sticky at this point and I was slightly concerned, yet I didn’t want to continue adding flour to the point the dough was pliable but the scones were dry and crumbling. I then remembered what Shauna from Gluten Free Girl and the Chef wrote, about how gluten free batters and doughs are different. If I wanted the scones to turn out as I wanted, I had to be patient. So I let the dough sit for ten minutes and, sure enough, the dough was still tacky but easy to shape.

Lesson learned: time makes all the difference in the world.

Now, this recipe really brought out the mad scientist in me. Why? Well, I was particularly creative in what I used, especially since I was low on one or more flours and was out of butter. I didn’t want to add anything into the scones (such as berries or cheese) as separate entities from the crumb. I wanted the scone itself to be the main event, one that was delectable for both sweet and savory dishes, perfectly paired with a cup of Joe or a chai latte.

The result was a scone that was dairy free, had ten flours used, a combination of fresh avocado and coconut oil for the fat, and highly concentrated yerba mate tea with coconut milk for the liquid. The crust was sturdy and the inside crumb was so moist and creamy from the avocado. I truly believe I found the balance for future baking where fat is needed. All this delicious concoction* needs is a little honey smeared on top for your taste buds to do the happy dance. 

Yerba Mate Chai Scones

2 oz Glutinous Rice* Flour (I ran out and ended up using 0.1 oz Rice flour to compensate)
2 oz Millet flour
2 oz Amaranth flour
3 oz Arrowroot* starch (I also had to use 0.1 oz Rice flour because I ran out)
1 oz Quinoa flour
1 oz Coconut flour
1 oz Buckwheat flour
1 oz Rolled oats (Certified Gluten-free, of course)
1 oz Almond meal
2.5 oz Avocado (about 3/4 of a medium-sized avocado)
2.5 oz Coconut oil, room temperature
2 oz So Delicious unsweetened coconut milk
4 oz Yerba mate tea, concentrated
2 tsp. Baking powder
1/2 tsp. Cinnamon
1/4 tsp. Nutmeg
1/4 tsp. Sea salt

Preheat the oven to 400ºF.
In a medium-sized mixing bowl, combine the flours, baking powder, cinnamon, nutmeg, and salt.
Put the avocado, coconut oil, egg, coconut milk, and yerba mate into a blender on low until there is an even consistency.
Using an electrical mixer (or by hand), combine the wet and dry ingredients until the dough forms.
Let the dough sit for about 15 minutes until it becomes tacky yet still can be touched (this is crucial if you don’t want a sticky dough to work with).
On a baking sheet lined with parchment paper (or greased), form the dough into a flat circle or rectangle shape (I wanted smaller servings, so I used the rectangle shape).
With a knife, cut triangles into the dough so that individual pieces will be easier to slice (I was able to make 12).
Shimmy a thin layer of cinnamon on top of the dough and bake for 20 – 25 minutes.

Makes 8 – 12 scones.


Here's a list of the other participants so far:

Amie Valpone | The Healthy Apple  Chocolate Chip n' Rice Crispy 'Muffin' Scones  
Britt | GF in the City   Blueberry Buttermilk Scones   
Brooke | B & the boy!   Coconut Scones with Pineapple Curd
Caleigh | Gluten-Free[k]    Jam on top, or cream on top? Scones
Caneel | Mama Me Gluten Free    Savory Jalapeno Cheese Scones   
Caroline Shannon-Karasik  | The G-Spot    Carrot Raisin Scones with a Cinnamon Glaze   
Charissa | Zest Bakery    Amaretto Soaked Cherry and Almond Scones   
Claire | Gluten Freedom    Strawberry Banana Scones
Erin Swing | The Sensitive Epicure    Millet Scones   
Gretchen | kumquat    Maple Oat Nut scones   
Irvin | Eat the Love  Green Garlic, Bacon, and Thyme Scones
Jeannette  |  Jeannette's Healthy Living   Coconut Pineapple Scones (Vegan)
Jenn | Jenn Cuisine    Apple Banana and Currant Scones   
Karen | Cooking Gluten-Free   Oat Scones with Currants
Kate | Katealice Cookbook   Cinnamon Fruit Scones 
Lauren | Celiac Teen Gluten-free Multigrain Cream Scones
Lisa | Gluten Free Canteen   Bisconies, actually
Lisa Thiele | With Style and Grace    Lavender and Earl Grey Lemon Scones   
Marla Meridith - Family Fresh Cooking    Avocado Scones
Meaghan | The Wicked Good Vegan  Simple Scones with Clotted Cream and Strawberry Jam (Vegan)  
Melanie | Mindful Food  Hazelnut Cream Scones with Blackberry Jam (Vegan) 
Pete and Kelli | No Gluten, No Problem    Mesquite Scones   
Mrs. R | Honey From Flinty Rocks    Classic Cream Scones - Gluten & Dairy Free 
Mrs. R | Honey From Flinty Rocks    Almond Fig Scones - Gluten & Dairy Free 
Sea | Book of Yum    Classic British Currant Scones (Dairy free)   
Shauna | Gluten Free Girl and the Chef   Gluten Free Scones
Silvana Nardone | Silvana's Kitchen    Gluten-Free Pecan Streusel Scones   
T.R. | No One Likes Crumbley Cookies    Cinnamon Pecan Scones
Tara Barker | A Baking Life    Crystalized Ginger Cream Scones   
Wendy | La Phem Phoodie  Red Velvet Scones
Winnie | Healthy Green Kitchen  Coconut Raisin Scones (Vegan)

*Note: As much as I think these scones turned out rather deliciously, I will work on perfecting how it tastes, looks, and forms. I think I will add something sweet to it next time as well as using butter for the fat.