surprise-spiked stew

Many moons ago, I came across a recipe for a middle-eastern spice blend known as za'atar.  Comprised mainly of sumac, thyme, sesame seeds, and salt, I didn't think it would be that difficult to make into a tasty blend, but our experience with the za'atar pizza proved otherwise.

More details about the San Francisco trip are forthcoming (probably over the weekend), but let me give you a sneak preview.  On our second night in San Fran, we dined at an arabic fusion restaurant (thanks for the tip, Susan!) and I would by lying if I said I didn't feel a little pang of terror when the server put down a basket of delicious looking bread to be dipped in a delicious looking oil.  Why the terror?  As he put down the black-flecked oil, he explained that there was a mixture of spices in the oil which I immediately recognized as za'atar.

I decided I was curious enough to try it again, so I pulled off a piece of Moroccan flatbread and dipped it carefully in the sooty mixture.  Then I did it again, and a few more times, and with my sister's help as well as her friend's, we polished off half the oil mixture with the first basket of bread, prompting a server to bring out a second basket (sorry, Atkins fanatics...).  It was utterly delightful and I decided that the only thing wrong with my za'atar was that I made it.

Imagine my delight when I was strolling through a farmers' market and found a spice shop with preblended za'atar?

This little bag of magical dirt became the "secret" to a very successful remake of a previously revolting dinner.  If that didn't give it away, tonight I made Saffron-Spiked Moroccan Stew from The Vegan Table.

I accidentally left out the minced ginger, but I felt like the brown sugar + cinnamon probably contributed enough of that flavor profile and was afraid of anything upsetting the delicate balance between that generous sprinkling and the slightly less generous amount of coriander, cumin, and salt.  The stew came out pretty well - not too much to report now that I've given up on saffron (at least for now - as the za'atar story shows, I never really give up).

What made this dinner special was actually the couscous base.  I wanted to do something a little special, because plain couscous is super boring and I didn't have faith that the "sauce" in which I was cooking the vegetables would provide sufficient flavor to overcome the blandness inherent in this north African pastina.  To combat that effect, I heated about a tablespoon of olive oil in the pot I intended to use to boil the couscous, then I sprinkled on about 2 tsp of my new za'atar and a generous pinch (or five) of kosher salt and let it heat up slowly.  When the time was right, I added the couscous and stirred it up while raising the heat to allow the spice-infused oil to soak into the pastina.  Finally, I added the water, brought it to a rapid boil and then turned off the heat and let it work its magic.

It most certainly was magical - I can't believe I got it right on the first try!  Next, I hope to replicate the dipping sauce for some focaccia I have not yet purchased.  It smelled divine - enough so that my little buddy felt like he might want some, too!

go ahead, surprise me

What an unusual day.  It was absolutely chock-full of surprises - some good, some not so good.  Why don't we start at the beginning?

My goal for the next phase of my life is to not need a back-up alarm.  I'm sure you can imagine, my first alarm is annoying, but not nearly as annoying (or far away) as my second alarm.  That's the point, of course - terrifying incentive to get up and out of bed before Mister is awakened by the super-irritating noises my cellphone makes to nag me out of bed.

You would think waking up to a breakfast like this would be incentive enough, wouldn't you?  It would be, if it didn't greet a day that found me making my way out to another glorious day at work, knowing that this will probably be the most special part of my day.  And it was special - like I mentioned yesterday, those strawberries are ineffably incredible and need to be eaten in generous quantities and frequently.

Also, every now and then, there aren't many things that are more amazing than a toasted cinnamon raisin bagel dripping with melted Earth Balance.  Except a toasted everything bagel similarly decked out along with a row of perfectly ripe, organic strawberries.

When I got to work, there were two more surprises waiting at my desk.  The first surprise was found on my desk - an adorable star-shaped lollipop in red, white, and blue (it's Flag Day and as part of Employee Appreciation week at work, we get themed surprises and also honored employees who served in a branch of the military).


The second surprise took the form of an unexpected email announcing the promotion of one of my colleagues - this is both awesome and enviable.  He works very hard and deserves recognition for his efforts.

In a final pair of surprises (at least for the work day), we had a new class of new employees start training yesterday.  Today is normally the day that I blow their minds and they usually return the favor.  This group did not let me down.  They did surprise me, though, in two ways.

New Hire #1 shared her experience from her previous position at AARP - she said that the older folks she spoke to who were healthy and disease free in their advanced years all had one thing in common.  Are you ready?  I know this will blow your mind: they all either followed a vegetarian diet or ate plenty of fruits and vegetables (in addition to meat).  Who's surprised?  Raise it high!  No one?  Yeah, me neither.

The next surprise truly did catch me off-guard.  A lovely woman in the class, I'm guessing she's in her mid-50s, shared the secret of her gorgeous, gray-free hair and it was not what I was expecting.  She said she takes a teaspoon of unsulphured blackstrap molasses every morning and it reversed the grays she did have and now her hair is all blond like it was in her youth.  Considering how expensive it gets to keep up my dye-job, I think I'm going to try it.  The worst thing that happens?  I get a teaspoon of important vitamins and minerals in my morning tea and my hair is still gray.  Not a bad worst-case scenario (except for that whole "hair still being gray" thing).

So...it looks like my class is teaching me, doesn't it?

Dinner tonight was Vegetable Biryani from La Dolce Vegan.  It started out with a fun little spice medley:

And ended up (after some excitement - keep reading) as a tasty little supper:

I think it could use maybe a little more salt.  The only reason I say maybe is because the scent of the spices starts to take over and flavor the food about halfway through and then you can taste more complexity.  It does have to build up, though, and sometimes, I just want dinner to be tasty immediately.  Patience, Grasshopper.

So, while I was cooking, suddenly there came the wretched, loud, annoying, and terrifying sound of a fire alarm, followed by the sight of the occupants of the building next to us emptying out onto the sidewalk.  Mister went out to investigate while I shoved Angst into the bathroom so I'd be able to find him if we needed to evacuate.  Turns out the people on the top floor set their kitchen on fire, but were able to extinguish the blaze before the fire company showed up.  I really hope it just took a while for someone to call them, because if their response time started from the beginning of the alarm, I am pretty sure our whole building will be engulfed in life-destroying flames before they find their way to our home.  After all the excitement, I finally put dinner on the table and told Mister about my fabulous day.

We haven't see the mouse yet tonight, but Angst had a horrible day, so I hope his little friend pops out to say hi at some point just to make him happy.

welcome, Spring - you're only a month late

If I could figure out how to take a screenshot on my Mac, I would show you the weather forecast for Philadelphia this week - in the 70s all week.  Granted, tomorrow has a red outline and a warning to expect severe weather, but they've been calling for rain all week and I haven't seen a single raindrop.

Now that I've said that, you can expect a photo tomorrow night of the huge bruise I'm going to get when a golfball-sized piece of hail hits me in the forehead.

For now, though, you can see photos of our delightful spring dinners!  I have been at least halfway fortunate this week - I have worked earlier than usual yesterday and today, meaning I get home earlier than usual, so I've had a little more time to cook.  It also means I've been able to enjoy a few minutes of sunlight on my walk home from the train.  So with all my "extra" time (more like "different," since I've had to retire earlier as well to ensure adequate sleep), last night I made Cajun Red Beans and Rice from The Accidental Vegan, and was able to use "better for me" brown rice since I could let it cook longer.

I'm having kind of a huge ton of fun with my new measuring bowls.  I didn't actually need to measure a cup of diced green pepper, but I used the bowl to hold it while I was prepping other ingredients and I thought it looked pretty enough to share.

Unlike the Battle of Pasta Fagiolis, I don't think I will ever find a beans-n-rice recipe to knock this baby of her throne.  The combination of ingredients is nearly perfect: the savory and toothsome Tofurky Kielbasa, the smooth and creamy kidney beans with their gorgeous garnet hue, the crunch of lightly sauteed green peppers that most certainly taste "green."  I was reflecting on the amount of rice in the recipe, though, on my way to work - there is even more time to ruminate on pointless quandaries now that I don't have to pay attention to exits and traffic lights. 

After piling his second helping into his bowl, Mister went to the fridge and returned with a slice of bread.  Almost every time he does that, it means he perceives an absence in the carb department of the meal.  He was not completely off this time, either - the recipe calls for 1.5 cups of cooked rice, but that really spreads the rice thin, as though it's just kind of a decoration on the beans and tofurky.  In the future, I think I'll double the rice and see if that's sufficient for Mister's grain-appetite.

Tonight, I was home even earlier and therefore had even more time to play in my kitchen.  I had originally intended to make a quick-cooking meal tonight, but when I saw how much time I had, coupled with the surprising amount of energy I maintained after working a whole shift that started so early that I actually got on the train about the same time I usually get in the shower, I decided to make Spring Vegetable Curry, also from The Accidental Vegan.

DIY Curry spice mixture, clockwise starting at the top: cumin, cardamom, turmeric, coriander, and sea salt.  After I carefully mixed them all together into a fairly homogenous powder, I made a little well in the middle to hold the garlic and ginger.

Once the spices had a minute or two to cook and then garlic and ginger had softened slightly, I added my mountain of vegetables (the actual cooktime -apart from the rice- is only about 15 minutes; the rest is prep, lots and lots of prep): big, thick stalks of asparagus, a red bell pepper, sugar snap peas, tomatoes, and red chard.

By the way - did you know that 2 cups of red chard has 25 calories and 1 gram of protein?  Yeah, I didn't either until I read the nutritional label.  That's right - wrapped around the bottom of the bunch was a little piece of cardboard that contained the nutritional facts on a bunch of greens.  I don't know if that shows progress for our country or if I should mourn for abused paper.

Regardless, the curry was outstanding.  I'd never actually made this recipe before.  When I make curries, they are generally of the "warm you from the inside out" kind of curries, made up of generally hearty vegetables and beans (chickpeas).  This was definitely a lighter curry and I have 2/3 left of the 6oz can of coconut milk to prove it.  Now I'm trying to scheme how to get Mister to use it in his coffee.

creative cooking part 2

Alternate title: When Bulgur = Brown Rice and Bake = Saute.

I'm glad I'm comfortable enough in my cooking skin now to deviate from the tyranny of the recipe.  I'm normally a pretty By-the-Book kinda gal, mainly because I figure if someone took the time to write it down, I should probably at least try it their way.  However, if I insisted on cooking "by the book" this week, we would have been SoL for at least three dinners...out of six, that's pretty significant.

Tonight I made the only think left on the menu (there is one more "slot" but it says "Go Out or Improv." Considering how much I've already improv-ed this week, I'm leaning toward a date...).

 
Curried Bulgur Casserole with Chickpeas from The Complete Vegan Cookbook is something I've made twice before, both times to mixed results.  I try to learn from my "mistakes" and I had to do some things differently this time because of ingredient issues, so the first change I made was that I cooked up some brown rice in place of the bulgur, since I used the bulgur for this recipe two nights ago.  It actually came out pretty nicely, with a slightly more substantial texture than that which was achieved by the bulgur the first two times.

The second thing I did differently was to simply cook the whole "casserole" stovetop, rather than baking it for 20 minutes.  This was due to a few things - for one, I fear baking brown rice.  It just doesn't go well for me, and I was having so much success boiling it, I didn't want to ruin things.  Also, it seemed like an unnecessary step that would only prolong the dinner-making process.  It's a good thing to keep in mind for make-ahead dinner, but if you're putting it together fresh, there's really not much reason to bake it as far as I'm concerned.

Finally, I remembered in my review of the other two times I made this that I was disappointed in the flavor - despite the prominent presence of my favorite curry powder and despite smelling delightful, when I tasted this about minute before it was finished cooking, I was astonished at how little taste there was.  The recipe judiciously calls for a very small amount of salt - 1/4 tsp.  In my world, that is far too little and I'm sure Mister would agree.  I have decided that the correct amount is closer to a full teaspoon and it will remain there until salt becomes an issue for Mister or me.

Tomorrow will either be super boring or really fun, so hopefully you'll check back to see what dinner ends up being - I'm not completely sure yet myself!

cake or death

A little bit more than a week ago, I was sitting at the dining table, constructing the menu and Mister walked by just as my eyes had fallen on a recipe for a Sweet and Sour Stirfry in The Vegetarian Times Complete Cookbook.  I looked up from my scheming and asked him, "would you like to have a sweet-n-sour stirfry?"  He responded with a relatively enthusiastic, "sure!" so I put it on the menu.  Since I completely forgot to buy tofu and cashews, it sat on the menu, unmade all week.  Today, I finally got the ingredients I needed to prepare the recipe, so I figured I would do so before the other ingredients got bored of sitting in the fridge for a week and grew legs (or other things that don't belong on vegetables).

I love colorful dishes, especially when the colors are as vibrant as these!  I think I had the reddest pepper ever on sale at Whole Foods (maybe not, but that's how I felt) and despite the Pavlovian Christmas association of red and green, I just love the way the colors look together.  Add into that the sunny yellow of pineapple chunks against snow white cubes of tofu and you have a very nice little stirfry to bid farewell to winter (yes, I know there's still a week left).

I am continually amazed by the way a simple sauce can make the difference between hippie-dippy steamed veggies and a take-out emulating stirfry, served over basmati rice to absorb any extra gloop.  If only the reason I usually turn to take-out was purely because I love the way Chinese take-out tastes, rather than my lack of desire to cook, this would save me a ton of money.

Except for one small thing.  Apparently, sometime in the last 8 days, Mister came down with schizophrenia or some kind of dissociative disorder.  He ate his stirfry and rice, and he didn't push his food around too much with the chopsticks, but when I asked what he thought, this was his response:
You made it well.  I would just never actually, on purpose, eat something sweet-n-sour.

What?  When I reminded him of the encounter recounted above, he had no recollection of it, and asked if I had posed the question to him with another choice.  I said no, I just asked if he wanted the stirfry, and that seemed to "explain" things in Mister's head.  Apparently, if he had said "No," we simply would not have had dinner.  He seems to have missed the part where I was sitting with a pile of cookbooks and a grocery list...

This reminds me of [edit: an Eddie Izzard routine] a Monty Python routine he and I watched together at the beginning of our relationship.  I'm not actually a big Monty Python fan - I think it's more of a guy thing, kind of like the 3 Stooges or the Marx Brothers, except smarter and more English.  Regardless, one sketch I did always find amusing was when three men were given a choice: Cake or Death?  For obvious reasons, the first two men chose cake.  When it is the third man's turn, he also chooses cake, but is informed that they have just run out.  His response?  So my choices are, or Death?

That was as good of a segue as I'll ever have to the bonus round of our post today...

I have been wanting to bake since we moved in, for two reasons.  First, nothing says "home" like the scent of freshly baked something.  Second, and possibly more importantly, I have seriously shirked my responsibilities as a recipe tester for Dynise's upcoming cookbook, and I believe the deadline is looming.  So, out of guilt as well as privilege (because I really am very lucky to be able to "test-drive" these awesome recipes), I baked Rue des Rosiers Pain d'Epice, a nice dark spice loaf.

If the goal was to make the entire apartment smell like where I want to go once I've left this world, then Mission Accomplished!  The loaf bakes for nearly an hour and fills as much space as it can with the most amazing scent.  I'm not sure there is a better smell for baked goods than the smell of something loaded with "winter" spices - cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, for example.  Even chocolate cake or brownies cannot compete with the molasses-rich scent of this dark bread.

It has incredible texture and both Angst and Mister were enthusiastic taste-testers with me.  It was nearly impossible to wait for the loaf to cool enough to cut it without man-handling it.  I just kept walking over to sniff it and at one point I tried to convince Angst that if we both blew on it, it would cool down faster.  The sliced almonds made it very pretty, but definitely made it a little more difficult to cut without marring the top.

Dynise introduced the pain d'epice by painting a lovely Euro-urban scene of a breakfast made up of tea and a slice of this spice loaf slathered with Earth Balance and marmalade.  Although it is very possible there are flavors of marmalade besides orange, I am not aware of them and I'm not big fan of anything orange which is not the raw fruit itself.  However, I can agree that a few pats of EB, spread across the still warm bread and allowed to melt a bit took this bread from quite tasty to absolutely heavenly.

I'll leave you with confirmation of my previously expressed "fears."  Although it seems the entire month of March is an opportunity for people to drink (Mardi Gras and St. Patty's day), it seems today was the big celebration, since we had the parade earlier in the day.  While I was out buying food for our cupboards, I had the incredible misfortune to miss a big band of bagpipers playing outside the Irish bar across the street.  Since they woke Mister from his slumber, he decided I should at least get to see what I missed:

Nope, definitely not sorry I was several blocks away when this was happening.  I am glad Mister got a picture, though.  We have some great from-the-window pictures from our years living in this area.  We'll add this one to the cyber-pile.

in the absence of champagne

Tonight, I finally cooked our inaugural dinner in this home.  There was a little bit of scampering as I adjusted to the way the stove heats and how much less space there is between the flame and the pot, as well as my frantic attempts to find everything I needed to set the table...including a chair and actually setting up the table.  It was fun, moving around my new kitchen, learning the idiosyncrasies of a new stove - well, "new" would be a relative term here.  While I was boiling the pasta water, Mister came to visit and observed with some nostalgia that he had a stove like that somewhere else he had lived; his tone indicated it was somewhere he had lived a long time ago.

I thought it would be fun to make one of my own recipes the first time I cooked in my new kitchen, so I pulled out my little golden book and set about making the pantry-spectacular Rotini with White Bean-Tomato Sauce.

Another thing I'm getting used to is the lighting, so please excuse me if my pictures look like garbage for a while as I'm figuring it all out.  Mister is kind of a pasta sauce minimalist, so there was a little too much red stuff on his rotini/ziti blend for his liking.  In my zeal to have an appropriate vegetable to carb ratio, I sometimes forget that he doesn't care about that; he cares about having his uncorrupted pasta.

Bit by bit, the apartment is starting to look like a home.  We're starting to display signs of actually living here.  It's still very clean, which is good, because there are still boxes everywhere in various states of being unpacked (from Not-At-All to Empty-As-Angst's-Head).  Speaking of Angst, he seems to be a little weirded out by the hardwood floor, so when he is not hanging out in Mister's room (where there's carpeting), he kind of tiptoes around.  He found a familiar spot, though, and allowing his guard to relax for just a moment, staked his claim:

After eating my Pietro's leftovers for dinner last night, I threw myself into emptying as many boxes (in organized fashion) as I could.  I made a lot of progress, including setting up my spices.

They took up an entire shelf of my kitchen trolley and there are still a few that I haven't found!  Because I'm kind of a geek, I put them in alphabetical order.  We'll see how long that lasts, but for tonight, it sure made it easier to locate the Basil and Marjoram.

At some point last night, Mister took a field trip to our new neighborhood drugstore because we'd used up the last of the travel-sized toothpaste I found in my suitcase and a few other things.  He returned with a gleeful and victorious smile, showing me his prize with no small amount of pride:

Yes, Mister was excited because he found gummy vitamins meant for adults.  I really don't think there should be gummy vitamins at all, much less for adults, but whatever makes him happy (and healthy!).

Even though there are boxes everywhere, including the few that are folded and shoved behind the dining table, I still thought our table looked so pretty after it was set and the food was down.  The lighting is horrendous, but like I said, I'm adjusting.

By the way, in case you're wondering about the title... in the absence of champagne, I opened a bottle of Centine SuperTuscan to accompany our premier in-home meal.

sweet and spice-y takes the cake

As I type this, my kitchen smells increasingly delightful - the way you might imagine December would smell, if it had a designated scent.  I have muffins in the oven, so I'll be excusing myself shortly to retrieve them (but you'll never know, will you?).  One thing I love about Sundays, besides having plenty of time to make dinner, is that if dinner doesn't take too long and we eat early, there's time to bake.

The beginning of a new menu is always a little difficult for me.  There are so many choices!  Last night, the toe-numbing, foot-freezing, face-hurting cold made my decision for me, as did a helpful husband who didn't mind leaving home for the first time all [horrendously cold] day to get me a huge can of chickpeas.  That meant that the first time I really had to choose what to make was tonight, since I have a stocked fridge and cupboard.  I chose more or less by process of elimination... no to the Corn Chowder, since I made the Chickpea-Cabbage soup last night.  No to the Chickpea-Spinach Curry because it comes together very fast, making it a more appropriate choice for a work night when I don't feel like spending a lot of time on dinner.  Also, we are still in the midst of the Great Spinach Famine of 2011.

My eyes fell upon Tropic of Tempeh Tofu (Vegan on the Cheap) and I remembered that we didn't have leftovers last time I made it.  Since we're still eating our way through the leftovers from my week off, I didn't think we needed a meal that would contribute to the Kingdom of Tupperware currently set up in our fridge, and I knew the other two options would most certainly do just that.

Since I'm using tofu instead of tempeh, I saute it for about 10 minutes, maybe more, to create that crispy outer "shell."  I might have overdone it a little, because it seems like the tofu was a little tough...chewy.  The rest was wonderful - you can definitely taste how the rice wine vinegar draws out the sweet-tartness of the pineapple, and I took my own advice this time, adding an extra Tbsp of tamari to the sauce to tone it down a little.  It changed the color of the sauce significantly; its effect on the sauce was minimal, but helpful in toning down what might otherwise be a sauce that is too sweet for dinner.

What a great way to transition to the sweet conclusion to tonight's meal.  See, you didn't even miss me while I was pulling these beauties out of the oven:

They don't look quite like the pictures on the recipe, but the Gingerbread-Nut Muffins taste so good it wouldn't matter if they were green and oozing something.  Well.  Okay.  Maybe the visual would interfere with the overall experience, but what I'm trying to say is this: they are really good.

kind of looks like a gingerbread rock, doesn't it?

They are super spice-y, thanks to the total two teaspoons of strong spices in them.  I have very little doubt that the scant bit of vanilla and the generous helping of molasses contribute to the dark and complex flavor of these little nuggets.  The best part, though?  I just realized they're fat free.  Here's a cute cat to entertain you while I sneak off for another.

sometimes the obvious eludes me

For example, if you knew that saffron was the dried stigma of the crocus flower, wouldn't you expect it to emit a floral scent? You would, wouldn't you? Yeah, I didn't.

Tonight, I made Saffron-Spiked Moroccan Stew and it was my first experience cooking with the much exalted spice in the title. I mentioned in my menu post that I have substituted turmeric for saffron in the past. Why? They are not even remotely similar, aside from them both imparting a deep hue to whatever food they are sprinkled upon. Turmeric is a bitter spice that turns things (like scrambled tofu) yellow. Saffron is red, turns things red, and stinks. It has an inescapable and very strong floral odor that really made it hard for me to eat my stew. I don't know what I'm going to do with the rest of it!

Dinner was very pretty, though and Mister and I managed to fill our bellies, with the help of some salt and a serious effort to ignore the fact that our dinner smelled like a spring bouquet.
Today has kind of been a day of nauseating scents. Dinner actually didn't taste bad, it just smelled weird, which was distracting. Earlier, I made more scrambled tofu and although it tasted as good as it did yesterday, I absolutely could not stand the smell today. I don't know if I did something different or if I just wasn't paying attention to the smell yesterday, though that's not likely. Moving on...
1. I am grateful that I have just spent 5 days relaxing and ignoring almost any sense of responsibility.

2. I am grateful for my sense of adventure when it comes to selecting my menu, even if it backfires sometimes.

3. I am grateful that I can see clearly out of both my eyes now that I got rid of that flawed right contact lens.

4. I am grateful that today is the first day of the Advent season, officially marking the beginning of Christmastime, my favorite time of year.

What are you grateful for?

turn that frown upside down

If there was a painkiller for frownyface, I think it would be called "a cupcake." At the beginning of VCTOTW, Isa postulates on cupcakes' inherent ability to bring joy. I got to experience that in all of its fullness today.

I work for a weight loss company (which shall remain nameless). It is the fourth quarter and we are staring Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Chanukkah right in the face, as well as all the eating associated with these holidays. Suffice it to say, our sales people are bored to tears. However, those of us who know what's coming in the 1st quarter of the new year (aka, "diet season" thanks to all those this-time-I-mean-it resolutions) are presently running around like crazy people trying to get everything in place, get everyone trained, get events planned, get samples and scripts and streamers and balloons (in company colors, of course).

The Director of all this madness has been running around non-stop, with a perma-frown on her face and her eyebrows constantly furrowed in thought. As she passed my desk today, I called out, "Smile!" to which she responded "Not yet." Then I said it.

"I have cupcakes!"
She screeches to a halt, breaks into what can only be described as an irrepressible smile and changes the course of her footsteps to make her way over to me. Like a child being offered a tray of candy, she bashfully but excitedly picked her cupcake and then, I swear this is true, took the time to truly savor it.

Asking what spiced it, she tasted each component individually as I named them: cardamom, cinnamon, ginger, cloves, white pepper...that one took her a moment, but when she caught it, her face lit up all over again as though she had just unraveled the greatest mystery.

Now, the reason I compared cupcakes to a painkiller, rather than a cure, is because the numbing effects eventually wear off and push you back into whatever they had previously blocked. Moments after the last crumbs had made their way past her lips, the perma-frown regained its position. It made me happy, though, to offer just 5 minutes reprieve.

I'm also grateful I had such a great cupcake story to share, since dinner was quite unremarkable. It wasn't bad or anything, it just wasn't anything special. If I make it again, it will probably be as filling for some kind of vegetable. The Valencian Rice and Red Beans certainly took some nice pictures, though!

3 meals, 3 things

It was a dark and stormy night...the rain beat against the windowpanes and below the window, cars could be heard splashing through the puddles. Angst had tucked his feet beneath his body and greatly resembled a large, fuzzy, gray egg.

So I made one of the most colorful meals imaginable, just for spite.
Tonight I made Fiestadillas again, although I did actually add a sprinkling of shredded mozzarella to each one to help it adhere to the tortilla better. It kind of worked, though I probably could have used more cheese. Surprisingly, I just wasn't all that interested in piling on something that used to be a favorite food and now seems to be loaded with unhealthiness. Don't mind me - I'm just over-analyzing. I did actually take a picture this time!Also, in my continuing attempt to make "well-rounded" and balanced meals, I made a side dish - Spiced Potatoes & Green Beans from the September Cooking Light magazine. It was pretty easy, smelled great, tasted even better, and to my delight and astonishment, it looked very much like it did in the magazine!No cupcake stories today...and it turns out my assistance is needed at work tomorrow, so I will have to hold off on my good-neighbor-cupcake-baking until Sunday (as well as the accompanying story). I won't leave you sweet-less, though!

When I was at Whole Foods the other day, I picked up this sweet treat - Clif nectar cacao bar, flavor: dark chocolate walnut.

At 160 calories and delivering two servings of fruit cloaked in the most realistic dark chocolate taste and texture I've found yet, this chocolate-oriented fruit & nut bar is my winner (as far as vegan chocolate fun goes). It actually reminded me a little of the first bar of vegan chocolate I ever ate, on my honeymoon in Lake Tahoe. My (brand new) husband and I went to a paradise within my heaven: a wine and chocolate store. Honestly - the only thing better than a wine & gourmet chocolate store was that it was located in the most beautiful and peaceful place I have ever been. So anyway, we gawked at $500 bottles of special vintage wines, poked at some way-too-exotic-for-our-tastes chocolates and ended up leaving with about $50 worth of organic, fair-trade, and vegan chocolates.

Not a bad flavor association for a $1.19 bar made of dates, walnuts, unsweetened chocolate, cocoa, and vanilla (all organic) that can be easily purchased a mere 5 blocks from my home (rather than about 3,000 miles). So I think it goes without saying I was very happy with this bar and it will definitely find its way into my basket again!

I feel like it's Reverse Day. I started the blog with dinner, babbled about my midday snack, and now I'm going to tell you about breakfast (because I just remembered). Anyway, I think I got all my fruit servings in for the day with this morning's breakfast: Oatmeal, cooked in unsweetened soy milk, but here's the twist: I hulled 5 large strawberries and peeled my two remaining bananas, stuck them in my handy food processor, then stirred the resulting slop into my oatmeal. Oh my heavens was it good! It was just the right amount of sweet and perfectly thick. I was only going to do one banana until I realized that if I left the other one hanging there, fruit flies would take control of my home.

One last thing before I go - if you're feeling philosophical, check out my old buddy's new blog:
3 Things in DC.