Thursday, April 25, 2013

Down-to-Earth Vegetarian Gumbo

Quite a few people were surprised at my lack of celebrating Earth Day. To them, I’m this all-loving, tree-hugging hippy chick that has a gluten free blog. And while I do happen to love quite a lot of things (and yes - I have, on occasion, hugged a tree), I treated Earth Day like any other day. I went to work, rested from Sunday’s epic climb, and slept. Graduate school has me napping like a champ these days.

To be fair, I had planned on posting something in the name of Earth Day: a recipe symbolizing the coming together as a global community to work on the environmental issues we have today. But for some reason I have too tired to focus on anything but school and work this semester to do anything else. It was marked on my calendar and everything.

(source)

I remember early in the semester watching The 11th Hour in my Environmental Conflict Resolution class. We didn’t get to finish the film, so I left the room absolutely horrified by what the world has dealt with. True, the movie is meant to stress the consequences of pollution, overfishing, and taking more resources than we give back, but it definitely hit home for me. For the first time, this hippy was very angry at humanity… and feeling very insignificant in how she could make things better. How in the world could my attempts in using energy-efficient light bulbs or turning off the thermostat once in a while solve anything? That's the point, though, isn't it. We can't do it alone.

The reason why food has become my focus in conflict resolution has much to do with environmental awareness. I’ve become fascinated by the sustainable and “know your farmer” movement, which is why I’ve decided to devote a post every week to a farmers market outing starting in May. Each week will be a different market highlighting the amazing farmers that make them unique and delicious.

It may not save the world of all its problems, but it’s a start.

Vegetarian Gumbo

21 g Unsalted butter (or olive oil for a herbivore friendly dish)
21 g Olive oil
30 g Garbanzo bean flour
1 qt. Veggie broth or water
1 Carrot, finely diced
1 Celery stalk, finely diced
2 Yellow onions, finely diced
3 Shallots, finely diced
2 Garlic cloves, coarsely chopped
454 g Chopped bell peppers (I used a combination of green, yellow, and red)
794 g Canned whole and peeled plum tomatoes, drained and coarsely chopped
3 tbsp. / 7 g Dried parsley
1 tsp. Dried thyme
1 Bay leaf
1 tbsp. Coconut aminos (or gluten free Worchester sauce)
1 tsp. Sea salt
1 tsp. Ground pepper
283 g fresh/frozen okra (cut into 1/4-inch slices)

In a large pot on medium-low heat, melt the butter with the olive oil until it begins to bubble.
Slowly stir in the garbanzo bean flour and once thoroughly combined and slightly browned (there should be a distinct nutty smell), followed by carefully pouring in the vegetable broth in manageable increments.
Add in the vegetables and spices to cook on medium heat for forty minutes to an hour.
Turn off the heat and remove the bay leaf.
Ladle into bowls over rice while hot.

Makes 6 – 8 servings.

Monday, April 15, 2013

The Birds and the Trees

A couple of years ago, I rescued a nestling from one of my cats. Miette (i.e., the Abyssinian Ninja Assassin) has this habit of coming to the kitchen window with something in her mouth, sometimes alive but usually not. I’ve seen it all: mice, voles, huge insects, and small birds barely contained in her small mouth. She likes chasing dogs, and her battle cry sounds like a banshee wail whenever another cat enters her territory. She has food sensitivities like I do, but whenever she brings something alive home I do what I can to rescue them from an otherwise dreary fate. It's not like she eats them, anyway...


I appreciate the birds that roost in our trees, especially as they sing their songs in the morning when spring comes around. In my opinion, it's a pleasant alternative to a beeping alarm clock scaring you awake.

This nestling seemed to be learning how to fly and hadn’t quite gotten the hang of it when Miette chased it into one of our yucca plants. I get a rush saving other things from the feline authoritarian regime that runs our house. After I put Miette inside, mad that I ruined her fun, the bird sat on my knee, trusting me enough to close its eyes after such an ordeal. And finally, as I had an amazing summer day ahead of me, I put it on a branch and wished it well.

I still look back on that memory fondly. Not the killer Abyssinian part, mind you, but the part about watching the bird’s inactivity and savoring the calmness of the moment shared.


Two Fridays ago I fell and bruised my tailbone (a nicer way of saying I fell on my butt) so badly my entire spine was affected. The initial bruise a few inches below the inflamed tailbone was black, and sitting upright and lying down hurt like no physical pain I’ve ever encountered. The funny thing about back injuries is how unaware until that moment how much you use your back, and how much energy it takes healing such an injury. The initial shock left me feeling fragile and vulnerable, and for one brief moment I could relate to the terror of a nestling that fell from its nest… or a tree that had been uprooted without care. Such trauma brings out pain from other places, and what is a tree without a sturdy trunk but sticks and leaves and not much else.

When I hurt my back, I was uprooted and had to reconsider so much about myself. Why do I have to be overactive and stressed out to feel like I’m actually doing something useful? Why do I not savor the breaks in the day and enjoy inaction as it was intended? For what it seemed like an eternity since the last time I relaxed, I slept and ate and dealt with my insecurities in quiet contemplation without distraction. And I don’t know if anyone else has experienced this, but as my stress levels went down, so too my tolerance of it.


Sentience is too fragile and vulnerable to be in a constant state of stress, and regardless whether or not my injury was a divine intervention or a “sh*t happens” occurrence, I received the message loud and clear. My body is not impervious to injury, and thriving on stress can only take you so far. But there is strength in being uprooted, because it gave me the mindset to evaluate all the traumas and dramas I had experienced up until this point. It sucks, royally and painfully so, but it is necessary and liberating to not hold onto them anymore. Luckily, despite being uprooted (or having fallen from the nest), I’m healing quite nicely and actually have the energy to make recipes happen.

With all this talk of birds and trees, I felt it was appropriate to share my version of peanut butter Easter nests. These were my only favorite Easter sweet besides the solid chocolate rabbit as a kid (I had an aversion to Peeps). I loved the confection’s combination of sweet and savory, creamy and crunchy, peanut butter and chocolate, and I wanted to recreate a healthier version of the treat to indulge when a craving struck. They turned out so well, I brought them to one of my graduate classes along with my Early Grey shortbread for my colleagues to enjoy. Not only did they enjoy them, they wanted the recipes for both!

It’s the little things that make bloggers happy.

No-Bake Bird Nest Cookies

68 g Puffed rice cereal
252 g Honey (or maple syrup)
192 g Creamy peanut butter (salted)
15 g Hulled hemp seeds
15 g Cacao nibs
15 g Toasted whole flaxseeds
25 g Unsweetened shredded coconut
15 g Sesame seeds
Thompson raisins, optional

Place the dry ingredients in a large bowl and set aside.
Combine the honey and peanut butter in a small saucepan, and cook over low heat until melted and the edges begin to bubble slightly, stirring until smooth.
Pour mixture over the dry ingredients and thoroughly coat using a silicone spatula or a wooden spoon.
Using a tablespoon (you can guesstimate with your hands too, but I felt this was a less stickier alternative), form mixture into tight balls using 1 heaping tablespoon of mixture per ball.
Make an indention in center of each ball to resemble a bird’s nest, and place them on parchment paper to cool and set completely.
Place two or three raisins or other egg-shaped candies into each nest.
For storage, stack them in an airtight container in layers with parchment paper in between to prevent sticking and staling.

Makes up to 30 cookies.

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Teatime in Spring

Spring is here, my friends! Are you rejoicing in seeing the clear blue skies and fluffy white clouds? Are you running and playing barefoot in the green grass? Are you getting your hands dirty to plant seeds and anticipate their harvest in the coming seasons? Go on, take a deep breath; inhale the perfume wafting strongly off the flowers.

Ah… Wait a minute...

Ahhh...?

Ahhhhh… ACCCHHOOOOO!!! *sniffle* *grumble* So much for breathing in spring.

With spring's frivolity and warm weather, it also means the dreaded snot and sinus monsters have come out of hibernation. It means piles of crumpled tissues everywhere you walk. It means sneezing and coughing and probably nose spray and decongestants. It means tea… lots and lots of tea.


March was a bitter pill to swallow, but despite the annual allergies April is showing itself to be more productive and bountiful. The stress has become manageable (it’s amazing what sleeping a full eight hours can do for a person), and the semester is a shy couple of weeks away from being over. Even more exciting is that the GFRR seems to have come back stronger than ever!


I mean, who doesn’t love a good shortbread with their tea? The participants of this month's GFRR sure do.

Shortbread is considered a cookie in the United States. I don't know about anyone else, but when I think of a biscuit I think of the savory, fluffy kind. In Ruhlman’s (2009) book Ratio, the classic recipe for shortbread is the exact same as his cookie dough (p.37) ratio (1 part sugar, 2 parts fat, and 3 parts flour), while his biscuit ratio (p.33) contains no sugar at all and is 3 parts flour, 1 part fat, and 2 parts liquid. So this could be another reason why the U.S. views biscuits differently. It’s all about the ratio of the ingredients that differentiate the two.  

This delectable treat is so named because of its crumbly texture, the cause being to its relatively high fat content inhibiting the formation of long gluten strands. When you are gluten free, however, it’s not much of a problem to begin with. In fact, substituting sugar with honey was relatively easy to do as well.


Instead of baking it like Ruhlman suggests (as one would a typical cookie), I chose a lower temperature and a longer baking period. Shortbread is typically baked at a low temperature to avoid browning; and when done, it is nearly white, or a light golden brown. It may even be crumbly before cooled, but will become firmer after cooling. In other words, I had to not eat them all when coming right out of the oven if I wanted to know how they actually turned out. Like my tendency with gluten free bread, I needed to be patient and leave them be in order to enjoy them at their best.

And thank goodness I waited, because shortbread and tea were meant to be together.

Earl Grey Shortbread

60 g Honey
120 g Unsalted butter, soft but not melted
150 g Brown rice flour
30 g Coconut flour
Pinch of Sea salt
1 Bag (2 g) of Earl Grey tea leaves

Preheat the oven to 275°F.
Cream the butter with the honey until light and fluffy (either by hand or with an electric mixer/food processor), and add the tea leaves and sea salt.
Slowly add the flours into the mixture until completely incorporated.
Shape the dough into a ball (will be soft and buttery but should not stick to your hands) and roll out to about 1/2 an inch thick.*
Use cookie cutters or a knife to make them into the shapes you want, and transfer them onto a baking sheet lined with parchment paper.**
Bake for 40 – 45 minutes or until the shortbread is lightly browned.
Leave them on a cake rack to cool, and store in a cool place in an airtight container.
Serve with hot Earl Grey tea during any time of the day throughout the year.

Makes 13 servings.
   
*I found it was easier to roll out and flatten by covering the dough with parchment paper on both sides and using a rolling pin (less of a mess too).
**You can make any shape you want, or you can cut into squares or rectangles and prick the tops with a fork in two parallel lines as it is traditionally formed.

I was beyond ecstatic to see so many participants for this month’s challenge! Meaghan (i.e., “The Vegan”) of The Wicked Good Vegan was our lovely hostess. She is thorough, hysterically honest, and a wonderful person in general. And how awesome is she to make gin and tonic shortbread cookies? I’ll drink (tea) to that!

Here is the complete list of those who participated. Welcome back!

*Meaghan | The Wicked Good Vegan    Gin and tonic cookies: Lime shortbread cookies with juniper berry glaze    
Rebecca | Salts Kitchen    Rosemary, Lemon, and Toasted Pecan Shortbread and Espresso and Bittersweet Chocolate Chunk Shortbread
Mary Fran | FrannyCakes    Gluten-Free Jammie Dodgers   
Meg | Gluten-Free Boulangerie    Lemon Bars with Lemon Shortbread Crust   
Heather | Discovering the Extraordinary    Buckwheat Shortbread Cookies with lemon curd
Jonathan | The Canary Files    Black Sesame Teff Shortbread Cookies   
Morri (me!) | Meals with Morri     Earl Grey Shortbread