So, last night Blogger was being mean (or it might possibly have been Comcast, who apparently felt like last night was a good time to mess up our whole connection) and I couldn't post pictures of dinner or Angst or rice wrapped in grape leaves. Every Wednesday morning at work, we have a sales meeting where we each share one thing we learned this past week. You know what I learned this week?
I suck at telling unillustrated stories.
You want me to rant about the squandering of our planet's resources? Provide an in-depth discourse about why I don't eat honey? Shame the fast food industry for profiting off of our fast-forward culture and increasing the chances of your average American growing obese? Shall I regal you with stories of how people have committed petty crimes to violate their parole so they can return to prison just so they don't have to decide between 7 different kinds of bread? Or how pasta can feed an army of undernourished poor for pennies a serving?
I can do all of that without a single picture (though they make it more fun, you must admit), but tell you a story about pasta with broccoli and new concentrated liquid bouillon and a fuzzy fan? Nope, can't do it without pictures. I use the photos as a kind of outline - they remind me where the story is going next. Without them, I totally lose my train of thought and the entire post derails in mere paragraphs.
So, I've fixed last night's post - feel free to check it out.
In lieu of the prescribed [gross] onion, I sliced up the other half of the huge shallot Mister picked out on our team trip to Whole Foods last week. In other news, I'm super proud of him for only picking up three things that weren't on the list I gave him for his Superfresh run today.
I was also a bit generous with the "pinch" of cinnamon to be added to the mix. It came out perfectly, actually, but when I first did it and all I could smell was cinnamon (above 5 cloves of garlic, 1 Tbsp grated ginger, a sliced shallot, cumin, and coriander!), I panicked a little. See, when the recipe says to add a pinch of something powdery (like cinnamon), I just flip up the top of the spice jar and shake some in - no need to actually "pinch" it with my fingers - you'll never get that off. Regardless, sometimes I forget how eager cinnamon can be to escape the little plastic jar in which it lives as well as what a pungent little spice it is - a little dab'll do ya, as they say.
Angst was so excited about dinner tonight that I had to put him in the bathroom. He's getting very vocal in his old age and there comes a point where Mister and I just can't listen to him squeaking while we're talking. Once we'd finished, I retrieved him and gave him plenty of love. Fortunately, he likes the bathroom, so he probably just fell asleep and forgot he was stuck...
Or maybe he'll just hate me until I give him breakfast in the morning when he's had a long lonely night to remember how much he loves me and misses me when I'm gone.
ate some Halloween candy from my parents (my mom put a note in the bag that says "Better your home than ours," but I see there are only a few surviving Hershey's Special Dark chocolate bars and I don't think the kids took them - I'm on to your tricks, lady!)
engaged in a fun Facebook message session
trolled YouTube for a clip from the movie, "Anastasia," then posted said clip on Facebook (go, social media!)
pestered Mister
Things I haven't accomplished since dinner: cleaning up. In fact, my kitchen is such a phenomenal mess right now that I think I might actually bake cookies or cupcakes or something, just to see if I actually can dirty every dish in the house.
It's probably not as bad as I think, but compared to the super-simple clean-up from last night's dinner, a stove and counter and sink covered in dishes is a little daunting. This is what happens when I make blender sauces. More accurately, this is what happens when I make a blended sauce that could totally fit in my smaller food processor attachment to my immersion blender, so I start piling everything in there only to remember that I have to blend for 5 minutes and realizing that I have no desire to push the button that makes the blades spin for 5 minutes. So, having dirtied the little food processor, I dump everything into the grown-up food processor and proceed with the excessive blending. Which makes a huge mess.
Meanwhile, I'm chopping and roasting cauliflower while rinsing the chickpeas (and contemplating the effort required to pinch them out of their little skins) and cooking the bulgur, then scraping the sides of the food processor (with yet another spatula) and trying not to drip the sauce that collected on the lid onto the counter (and failing). Nevertheless, it all came together beautifully for our Mediterranean Bowls from Appetite for Reduction.
By way of a short aside, last week I did a favor for a colleague who then did her best to show her appreciation by gushing all over me and then buying me Starbucks. She asked what I wanted when she was going out to get it and I told her, "A hazelnut americano would make my heart sing," which she thought was very funny. I tell you this because roasted cauliflower makes Mister's heart sing.
I cut it into small florets, then doused it with olive oil and tossed it with some kosher salt and the Mediterranean herb blend I picked up in California:
No joke, the cauliflower had been roasting about 15 minutes and I was getting ready to add the chickpeas while gathering all of the ingredients for Isa's Caesar Chavez dressing, also from Appetite for Reduction, when Mister followed his nose into the kitchen and asked what he smelled. I told him it was roasted cauliflower (even though it was still in the act of roasting) and he asked when he could eat it and if now would be a good time. I explained he would have to wait 5-10 more minutes and after one more try, he went back to his computer to wait like a good boy.
After all my kitchen gymnastics, here was the result: Caesar Chavez dressing, clearly meant to replace fattening, anchovyful Caesar dressing. While I don't think you could mistake this for "the real thing," it has a delightful tang and very strong flavor, most likely attributed to the shallots that haunt my breath even now. In fact, I'm going to blame my inexcusably excessive candy consumption on that - I'm just trying to get rid of the taste and my breath mints are allllll the way over there in my purse.
The finished product went over much better than the last time Mister had something specifically titled Bowl, and merely mentioning "that outdoor restaurant" threw Mister into a memorymare and he proceeded to once again voice his complete displeasure with the Gyro Bowl he got. I think he's being a little over-dramatic, but then again, I loved my Hollywood Bowl.
But again, how could I not? I'm a rockstar ;)
When I'm not being a rockstar, though, I'm the kitchen help... better get on that pile of mess...
I know what you're thinking. "This is a blog about vegan food. Why would we need to specifically state something is meatless?" You are absolutely right - there is no chance I will ever post a meaty recipe here, though I can't promise I won't share stories about Adventures in Meatland.
However, if you'll recall, when I listed Moroccan Chickpeas and Zucchini from Appetite for Reduction in my menu, I expressed my glee for finding the first Moroccan recipe in my repertoire that did not include fake ground beef.
Not too surprisingly, it tasted a lot cleaner since it was mostly zucchini and tomato. The chickpeas did add a nice, savory "meatiness" to the dish and the carrots cooked down to a smushiness I never though I would find so delightful! I could have done with a bit less broth and Mister was raiding the fridge for dipping bread within two or three bites, but I think it's more a matter of draining it off before serving, rather than considering it an actual sauce.
It's not that it doesn't taste good, it's just that a puddle of broth is not always what you want to see appearing to soak and consume what is supposed to be perfectly cooked (with my new za'atar secret) and chewy bulgur. I was going to follow Isa's recommendation for couscous, until I pulled it out and realized how I didn't have quite a cup and I was actually going for two cups with this dish.
I can't deny that I'm excited that tomorrow is Friday. I'm also a little excited about not being compelled to create a new menu when I get home from work, since I have a three day weekend and we're 2 dinners behind due to Mister's narcolepsy. It's my guess that there are even more frequent buses and fewer shoppers at Trader Joe's on a Monday... I might just find out!
I wish I could remember the first time I ate an apricot. Obviously, it wasn't any kind of unforgettable experience, but I'm curious now as to how exactly that happened. Growing up, we were big fans of raisins in my household, but as far as I can remember, those little, wrinkled, purple nuggets were the only dried fruit in my life.
Regardless of when I first ate an apricot, I do know that it was dried. Most of the time that you eat an apricot, unless you actually live in Turkey, it will be dried because they don't travel well or stay fresh long. So, imagine my delight when I walked into Whole Foods on Sunday to be greeted by a big bin of perfectly peachy fresh apricots! I picked one up, running my thumb over its soft, fuzzy flesh like it would go home to be my new pet apricot, then I pressed gently to see how close to edible it was. Content that they were actually ripe (nothing is sadder than an unripe fresh apricot), I picked out three and narrowly avoided the temptation presented by a second bin of ne'er-seen-before red apricots!
You know if they're still there and not rotten on Saturday, they will be mine.
Anyway, I did not believe they were completely ready to be eaten yesterday, but as I was cleaning up after dinner, I saw little soft spots beginning to appear, so I made sure they would be breakfast this morning.
They were most certainly ripe and ready for eating - I probably could have split them with my fingernails, but that seemed like a foolishly messy undertaking, so I used a paring knife instead. The pits released themselves with the slightest tug and they were easily eaten in a few little bites each.
What a happy, sunny, Mediterranean breakfast... there was only one thing that kept it from perfection. Spoiled by years of dried fruit, I forget that the dried apricots will always be substantially sweeter due to the concentrated nature of drying the fruit. Since even dried apricots aren't that sweet, you can imagine that fresh apricots are extremely mild, which was at least slightly disappointing.
Fortunately for me, another Turkish-inspired meal of my day would be far less disappointing.
I love, love, love Bulgur and Red Lentil Pilaf with Kale and Olives from The Complete Vegan Cookbook. I can't say it enough. I have another recipe somewhere (I am forever forgetting where) that is nearly identical and almost as good. Every little component of this dish works so well with the others - the nuttiness of the bulgur with the creaminess of the red lentils; the chewy kale against melt-in-your-mouth oil-cured black olives. Usually, I use kalamatas, but I had some black olives leftover from something I made last week, so I used those instead. I also had 1/4 cup less bulgur than I thought I did, which resulted in a slightly quicker cooking, creamier dish.
Mister and I each wolfed down two bowls (okay, that's kind of a relative term - I eat slower than molasses in January pours). I shared a couple of funny stories about a hate mail we got at work that was actually typed on a typewriter. Remember those? 5 points if you've ever seen one, 10 if you've used one. Also, we had another fun building evacuation - heck of a way to start the day. With all the fun, it's a miracle I got anything accomplished! Now, on to conquer some home-chores...
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!
Do you remember buttermints? I do. I remember going to the Candlelight Diner with my mother, sister, and grandmother. I couldn't possibly tell you what I ate there, but I remember two things distinctly. Each table had its very own individual juke box that played a variety of songs. The only one my sister and I played, over and over, was the theme for The Greatest American Hero. By the way, William Katt is actually a fantastic actor and did a terrific job in one of my favorite musicals, Pippin.
Anyway, the other thing I remember is the little glass bowl of pastel-colored buttermints at the cash register. This was way before people knew about things like germs and how gross it was to touch things other people touched, so it's really a miracle I lived to adulthood considering how much I loved grabbing a handful of those mints.
I'm a fan of dessert before dinner, and even though I ate dinner first, then had a little dessert, I want to tell you about that first, while it's fresh in my mind and relevant to my trip down Memory Lane (but don't worry, folks, we're far from finished that joyride). When I was stocking our brand new, clean freezer, I wanted to get some Mint Chip Tempt "ice cream." Unfortunately, Essene didn't feel like stocking it the day I was there, but not to leave empty-handed, I picked up Rice Dream Mint Carob Chip, despite my ambivalence towards carob as a chocolate substitute.
I haven't spent a lot of time with rice milk because I'm perfectly happy with soy, almond, and/or coconut. However, since I put so much effort into making the Rice Vegan "cheese" slices melt, I figured it couldn't hurt to try the "ice cream" and see how it compared to some of my favorites.
The first taste was a shock - extraordinarily minty, far more than I was expecting. At first I thought it was disgusting but I wanted to give it a chance. I realized, mid-mouthful, that it tasted like a frozen version of my beloved buttermints...but without all the artery-clogging butter and germs. So, that was a happy little surprise (so were the spoon "tracks" that showed Mister tried a little bit, too, while I was at work).
Speaking of segues...I mean, Speaking of Mister....
I woke up at 5:30 AM this morning because a kitty jumped over my head. In my groggy state of Why-the-H-am-I-Awake, it took me a moment to remember he wasn't supposed to be in the bedroom and that we close the door every night to keep him out. I turned to see if Mister was going to kill the cat, but Mister was not there...which explained how the kitty got in... Apparently, Mister's good night of sleep two nights ago was kind of like the one time in 2010 that I didn't have trouble cooking brown rice - a fluke. Last night, his insomnia returned in full force, so sometime in the early morning hours, he got up and decided that it's never too early for metal.
When I finally dragged myself from the bedroom at the late, late hour of 7am, Mister was wide awake and strumming furiously on his little guitar (with headphones on, thank God).
Why don't we head back down Flashback Alley for a quick safety reminder. Remember when you were a kid, but finally old enough to "help" in the kitchen? Maybe mom let you use the fancy can opener to open the baked beans or something? What did she always say? Be careful; the edges are sharp.
Looks like someone didn't listen very well.
Or maybe, someone was just a little overzealous about getting the last three artichoke hearts out of the bottom of the can where they had all crammed themselves against each other and wouldn't come out until I bled. Until "someone" bled, that is.
Regardless of my injury (and you were worried about germs on the buttermints?), our Tuscan Vegetable Ragout was a delightful and filling dinner. It really makes a huge yield, causing me to ponder whether to replace my saute pan with a 4-qt or if I should just go for the gusto and get a 5-qt...only time and space will tell, I suppose.
I think it gets bigger (and better) every time I make it. I need to start reining myself in - just because I can add smoked tofu and macaroni to the 14 oz of Killer Artichoke Hearts, 2 zucchini, 14 oz tomatoes, and 28 oz of cannellini beans doesn't mean I should. Perhaps in the interest of my 3-qt saute pan, I'll learn some restraint before the next time I make this.
Or maybe I'll just buy a bigger sauteuse.
After all, it's not like this is the only recipe I run into that trouble with. I could have made the bulgur pilaf in a saute pan if I thought it would have held the kale. I had a little trouble combining all the ingredients for our dinner tonight, too: Warm Chickpea Ragout with Swiss Chard, Carrots, and Harissa from Vegetarian Times: Fast & Easy. In case you were wondering what's in it....
You don't really need me to spell it out for you, do you? After all, the book pretty much did that in the recipe title.
Despite Harissa repeatedly kicking me in the back of my throat, this really is a wonderfully tasty dinner. My only grievance was with the tomatoes. I used a different brand of fire-roasted tomatoes than I usually do and I could really taste the difference - these were acidic, not nearly as sweet as other brands. The sweetness of the other brands are what allow me to actually eat this dinner, rather than choke and sputter through it as though I had accidentally made Martha's Apple-Chickpea Curry.
Due to time constraints, I substituted bulgur for the rice upon which I usually serve this. As a result, I may need to pull a creative little switcheroo a little further down the week. We'll see how that turns out. Stay tuned - this could get exciting!
If Catherine Zeta-Jones can be Commander of the British Empire, I can be some kind of home-making superhero, can't I? I feel quite accomplished even if I didn't get everything on my [always excessive] to-do list done. My secret? Slow-simmered food.
I slept a little later than I had planned, but once I had two cups of Chocolate Cappuccino coffee in me, I was in and out of the shower and painting my face in preparation for my exciting trips to Essene and CVS. After loading up on apples and razors (yes, I know I'm early/late for Halloween, but Easter is on its way), I headed home and got to work on my first two projects.
I've never had Muhammara before but I've heard of it and thought it was fascinating. It kind of looks like red pepper hummus but it's all hopped up with spiciness. Today, I tested a recipe for UV2, despite my hatred for onions.
Honestly, although the red peppers and onions look very pretty together, this image made my blood run cold. When I read the recipe, it called for one small onion, so I thought, "How bad can it be? I can handle one little onion." I didn't realize how big onions got when you diced them - all of a sudden, my little bitty onion was all over the place.
Anyway, part of the charming parts of the recipe and one of the reasons I made it today is that the longer it cooks, the better it is, or so Dynise said in her introduction to the recipe. While the peppers and onion were sauteing, I was unpacking one of the last boxes and setting up my bathroom.
After about 40 minutes, the onions were finally that magical state of translucent that I've always heard of but never seen since I don't commonly cook onions. It was pretty neat to see, actually. Meanwhile, I was industriously emptying a box full of makeup and bandaids and sunscreen and cottonballs and figuring out how to put together the puzzle of my strangely shaped and possibly smaller bathroom.
one of the most esoteric and fabulous ingredients in my cupboard: pomegranate molasses
After letting the peppers and onions swim together in boiling oil for about an hour, I poured the melange into my food processor and covered it with walnuts and pomegranate molasses and a few other things (you need to buy this book!). I was really looking forward to seeing how a dip that didn't involve beans or anything else I could see holding it together was going to look.
It came out looking exactly like it was supposed to - kind of like red pepper hummus, or maybe Martha's sweet potato hummus, and it didn't taste all too different. I look at it as a slightly healthier and much spicier hummus. It had a definite kick to it, thanks to one of the things I sauteed with the peppers and onion being more red pepper flakes than I've ever used in a recipe.
It was a great accompaniment to our dinner: Bulgur and Red Lentil Pilaf with Kale and Olives from The Complete Vegan Cookbook. When I was at Whole Foods, I was pleased to find red kale, which is a fun color - dark, hunter green with wine-red edges and veins. I make this dish as often as I remember to because I absolutely love it and the flavors in it, so the way I introduce a little variety is by using different kinds of kale - the first time, I just used regular ol' kale 'cause I didn't know any better (and plain ol' kale is delicious). The last time I made it, I used lacinto (dinosaur) kale because it's easier to chop, being all not-curly and whatnot. Also, I think the red kale was a fun addition to the deep purple kalamatas and the creamy red lentils and beige bulgur. I wish this cookbook had more recipes I enjoyed making, but honestly, this recipe alone is worth the price of the book.
Well, time to clean up and get ready for bed so I can dream of all the fun that awaits me tomorrow through Friday...
The last few days have found me quite impressed with a few accidentally gorgeous color combinations. Because I dress primarily in black, a lot of people mistakenly believe I have something against color, but that couldn't be further from the truth. I just don't want to wear it. I love the way some colors work together effortlessly, one completing the other, like pale blue and yellow, jade green into hunter green, fuschia fading to a sparkling pink, even an overcast silver melding with snow white.
I also love colors that seem to be in complete juxtaposition, yet bring out the better qualities in one another by enhancing the other's "other-ness." Marigold yellow and pewter grey, robin's egg blue with chocolate brown, and the understated standby, Black and White. Although I enjoy the harmony created by like colors, or even multiple shades of one color, I revel in the competition between two colors that just should not be together, yet provide the proverbial yin to the other's yang.
This still life was far more fetching before I ate two of the tangelos, but can you see it? Aside from knowing it's a bowl of citrus, there is no good reason (outside of some daring 1980s fashion) to combine lime green (lime green) and tangerine. When I placed my citrus in the bowl, though, I was fascinated (and I think I'm about to bust into a Cure medley). Last night, while I was prepping our dinner, I was similarly struck by the orange carrot and green pepper confetti in my saute pan before I added the sauce.
Tonight, we had Bulgur and Red Lentil Pilaf with Kale and Olives from The Complete Vegan Cookbook. I love this dish every time I make it, which is why it found its way into our bowls again tonight.
You can't see it too well, but since I used deep purple kalamata olives with dark green lacinto kale, I got to play with another favored color combination. Fortunately, the flavors and textures of these two foods show that their beauty goes far deeper than the surface. By the way, I divide the blame for this love of color (in decorating and still life) between Martha Stewart and my Mother-in-law, who kind of worked together, inadvertently, on this.
Soon I will drift to sleep with visions of sugarplums and anticipation for the coming snowfall. Nothing brings out the starkness of urban monotone like a blanket of pure white snow and it takes longer than you might imagine to dirty it.
Actually, those three words have very little to do with one another, but it caught your attention, didn't it?
Let's handle the most obvious first - chickpeas. Dinner tonight was Curried Chickpeas on Chutney Bulgur from Vegan Express.
I left out the chutney because Mister and I felt a little...adverse to it the first (and last) time I made this. Instead, I steamed the bulgur in vegetable broth spiked with powdered ginger and a scant handful of cilantro, adding just a small pat of Earth Balance and pinch of sea salt. It doesn't make much, so I served it with whole wheat flat bread standing in for naan and a bowl of thasos olives.
Since that was the last item on last week's menu, let me share the new one I composed last night. All recipes are from Vegan Express because I fully anticipate this week will be at least as exhausting and busy as last week, if not more.
1. Tomato Chickpea Soup with Tiny Pasta and Fresh Herbs - it took every ounce of self-control not to put this on last week's menu, but I'm trying really hard to ease Mister into soup weather with just one soup dinner per week right now. I also intend to make more grilled cheeses and try not to burn them while attempting to make the Rice Vegan gooey.
2. Thai Steamed Green Garden with Coconut-Peanut Sauce - I discovered the last time I made this that I just really don't care for steamed vegetables, so this time I'm going to lightly saute my veggies in a little peanut oil with just a drop of toasted sesame oil.
3. Gingery Rice with Sweet Potatoes Carrots and Peas - apparently, my goal is to see if I can change at least one major component of every meal I've chosen for this week's menu. It's kind of like coached improv.
4. Pasta with Beans and Chard - it has been ages since I made this last and that's a shame. It is sinfully simple and too tasty for the little effort it takes to make. Continuing the theme stated above, since Mister hates raisins, I'll be substituting dried cranberries (which I always do when I make this but I couldn't let it go unsaid).
5. Big Quesadillas with Refried Beans, Spinach Arugula, and Avocado - at least with this one the ingredients list actually gave me the choice between spinach and arugula. It seems a little wrong to call something a quesadilla when it has no cheese, not even fake cheese, but I can't think of anything better to call it beside Folded-Over-Tortilla-Thing, and I guess neither could Nava.
Now, let's shift gears. I had a couple of surreal experiences the past couple of days on the train. For one, I would like to point out that children, and people with children, are like cats. Have you ever noticed how a cat will walk into a room full of people (assuming he's not a 'fraidy-cat like Angst) and instantly know who is allergic or who hates cats? Have you ever noticed that the cat will then lavish all of his/her attention (and fur) on that person?
People with children are like that on the train. They will spot the person who doesn't like kids the minute they get on the train and use their Obnoxiousness-Radar to locate the cluster of seats nearest that person that will hold them and their 500 children. On my way to work today, that is exactly what happened - Mom, Dad, and their four offspring parked themselves directly across the aisle from me and the little boy and little girl on the aisle seats spent the entire time they were on the train staring at me. At one point, I winked at the girl and that freaked her out enough to look straight ahead for a while.
That is the train I ride to work every day - the SEPTA R5. Not exactly space-age technology, eh? One night this past week, I walked right smack into my childhood on that train and it smelled awful. When I was a child, my parents used to take my sister and I into Philadelphia around Christmastime so we could go to Wanamakers (five points if you remember the monorail - it's in a museum now which kind of horrifies me) and see the light show. I still do that every December with my dad. Anyway, I remember that the seats had backs that could flip so the people sitting in them could always face the direction in which the train was moving (good for motion-sickness-inclined little girls). I had forgotten all about them until I got onto the train some night last week and sat in the oldest car in SEPTA's current line-up and saw those blasts from my past. Smelled them, too. I don't think they've been cleaned since I was a child.
Speaking of old, see how well SEPTA maintains their trains? That is the R5 on fire about a year ago during the city SEPTA "workers" annual strike. My father was on that train and because he's such a charmer, he sent that picture to my work email to let me know he was okay. Thanks, Dad, you really know how to ease a girl's mind.
Anyway, tonight, on my way home from teaching my three favorite students (pretty fortunate, considering I have only three students), I had this kind of otherworldly experience. I just happened to be in the front car and I looked through the window of the "cockpit" at the right moment to see the city skyline come into view. It was so beautiful and I wondered if the conductor was so used to seeing it that he missed how amazing it looks at twilight. Amy Lee's ethereal voice was pumping through the earbuds from my iPod as I looked out over the city as we approached 30th Street Station. I was absolutely caught up in the feeling that I was looking out at a different time. All I could see were street lamps and cars, but not close enough to identify them from any specific era. Having passed through some ancient and/or stark stations in the last three weeks I've been commuting this way, I was struck my how post-apocalyptic/steampunk these adventures could appear and I allowed myself to spend the last few minutes of my ride in a fantasy of old-timeyness.
How awesome is that? I mean, there is just absolutely nothing modern about that, but you know that once upon a time that building held the hopes and dreams of this city's residents. There was surely a time that those magnificent doors were the Great New Thing and beyond them was the stuff that fiction was made from. I love that they've never changed it - Suburban Station looked like that when it opened just a little more than 80 years ago and still looks like that today.
Through all of these great adventures, from relieving me of the stress of driving to restoring my ability to see my home through a tourist's eyes again, enhancing and developing my love of my city, there is one thing shining through: It appears I have somehow inherited my father's great love for trains.
No, I did not actually make a typo in my title - that "i" is on purpose. I believe I've mentioned how much I love Frontier Brand Curry Powder - it smells great and has a savory flavor, packing just enough heat but not too much for my little Irish tongue. Unfortunately, the last time I needed to buy curry powder, I was not the only one who had run out of it. I ended up buying the Whole Pantry Muchi Curry Powder, thinking, "how different could it be?" In a word? Very.
To be fair, it smells very similar to my regular curry powder and even looks somewhat similar. Actually, because of it's milder yellowy-orange color, I thought it might actually be milder than the Frontier brand. While I wasn't looking for that, I'll take it over make-my-lips-hurt hot. Because I was actually in Whole Foods when I was confronted with this "decision," and because I am not [yet] addicted to an internet-wielding smartphone (primarily because I am unwilling to pay for the plan), I could not look up what "muchi" might mean so I went on looks alone. As many hollywood-starlets-turned-trainwrecks (Britney, Lindsay, Amy, Robert Downey, Jr, I can go on) show, that isn't always a safe bet.
It turns out Muchi Curry is a very hot curry, sometimes referred to in Indian cooking as "the" hot curry because it contains in its mix not one, not two, but three ground peppers: black, red (cayenne), and white, in that order. Silly me, I used the whole amount dictated by my recipe for Rice Noodle with Curried Tofu and Vegetables. Another error in my thinking was that even if it was hotter than it smelled (it was, and no, I didn't think to read the ingredients before I bought it and even if I had, I wouldn't have recognized how hot they would make the mix), surely the coconut milk would mellow it out...you know, as opposed to spreading it around the entire dish so there were no safe bites.
It was extraordinarily flavorful, and prior to losing all sensation in my mouth, the cayenne did its job and absolutely enhanced all other flavors around it, not the least of which was a wine my friend recommended to me: Francis Coppola Celestial Blue Malbec. As she promised, it was very easy to drink, which was very helpful last night. It is smooth and very dark - I would recommend it to any everyone. Ultimately, no matter how wonderful dinner was, I could barely finish my portion - it was just too hot.
So tonight, when I made Curried Bulghur Casserole with Garbanzo Beans, I cut the curry portion in half, more or less. It worked, in terms of me being able to eat all of my dinner and it was delicious, but I should have made up for the other half of the portion by adding other curry spices ad hoc (cumin, coriander, maybe a dash of ginger).
There really weren't many ingredients involved and I did make some minor changes. I'm not a big fan of onions (actually, I hate them), so in place of the green onions (which are certainly the least offensive), I added about 4 cloves of garlic and a generous sprinkling of freeze-dried chives. While the chives were instantly reconstituting, I had a little daydream which involved my generous colleague sharing the bounty of his herb garden with me again as he prepares to move in a month and a half. I knew the veggies wouldn't look as good after baking as they do right here:
So anyway, it is high time to get to bed - I have a baby birthday party tomorrow afternoon! Let me show you my menu (though I've already shared one part above) before that, though:
1. Pita Quesadillas with Hummus and Crash Hot Potatoes - The first recipe comes from the newest Vegetarian Times magazine, which sang its siren song when I was standing in line at Whole Foods. The potatoes are courtesy of Vegan Yum Yum (the blog - I haven't bought the book...yet).
2. Quick Moroccan Tagine also from the latest Veg. Times, because I have yet to meet a tagine I didn't like, and this one looks like a fun variation from the ones I normally make. Someday - that great someday when I have a huge chef's kitchen - I would like to have an actual clay tagine and make these things authentically.
4. Curried Bulghur Casserole with Garbanzo Beans - done.
5. Spicy Tomato Peanut and Kale Pasta from La Dolce Vegan - I missed this cookbook, and though I originally set out to repeat a couple of favorites (like Punjabi Peppers & Tofu), I saw this and wanted to try it. I am growing quite fond of kale.
6. Baked Chili with Cornbread Biscuit Topping also from La Dolce Vegan and also something I haven't tried before. Yes, I did get the tortilla chips ahead of time.
Sorry - I got a little more excited than I anticipated about the fact that tonight's dinner, though selected from The Complete Vegan Cookbook, did not contain even a dash, not even a conservative sprinkle of oregano. It was a great dinner:
Tonight, I made Bulghur and Red Lentil Pilaf with Kale and Olives. It was spectacular, honestly, and not just because oregano was conspicuously absent. I love everything about the ingredients. Bulghur has a fabulous texture and an overall pleasant flavor. Red Lentils subtly provide the missing amino acids to create a complete protein in combination with the bulghur, meanwhile also acting as a thickening and binding agent, holding the whole mess together. Kale is a delightful "dark leafy green" with a heartiness to it I haven't found in other greens. I'll admit - this vegetable is so strong the idea of eating it raw is both stimulating and terrifying. Not planning to try it anytime soon, but if I ever work up the courage, you can trust you'll hear about it. Kalamata olives are among the most amazing edible treasures my husband and his crazy Greek family have brought into my life and for that, I will always be grateful. The only thing I can think of that would not be improved by their flavor is ice cream (maybe oatmeal, too).
glamour shot - not as pretty as it was tasty
So, speaking of ice cream, I do believe Tempt hempmilk "ice cream" has earned a more or less permanent place in our freezer. I picked up the Coffee Biscotti flavor at Essene last week and we tried it the other night. It was just as creamy as the Mint Chip was, but the coffee flavor was much richer than the mint was. The chunks of chocolate cookie were a little dry, but I figure, so is biscotti, being all twice-baked and whatnot.
I don't care if you are vegetarian, vegan, or if you think chicken is a fruit - find this somewhere, buy it, and then eat it very slowly, savoring every moment. Then, once you've placed your spoon in the empty bowl, realize that this is a product that is better in every way than ice cream made with cow's milk and chicken's eggs.
It tastes better.
It is lower in calories (140 for a half cup versus 270*)
It is lower in fat (7g with 1g of sat. fat versus 18g with 11g of sat. fat)
It is lower in cholesterol (NONE versus 120 mg)
It is cruelty free - nothing that breathes and has a heartbeat was hooked up to a metal machine to be milked electronically and run the risk of being cut by the clamps on the udders, resulting in infection, which ultimately leads to:
It is pus free. Yes. That's what I said - pus free. With no infected cow udders anywhere near it, there is no chance that there was a government-guidelines-acceptable amount of pus in the milk that became the ice cream.
It is allergen free - my sister could eat it and not break into hives or have trouble breathing.
I couldn't do it...I couldn't add the mint that would make the recipe Minty Moroccan Mishmash. I just can't deal with the flavor combination. In my world, mint is a confection - it belongs in dessert, or at least a beverage. Funny thing is that I wrote this recipe specifically to use up some mint hanging out in my refrigerator...it's still hanging out.
Minus the mint, though, the Moroccan Mishmash was a smashing success, unlike lunch. Against his better judgment, I convinced Mister to go with me to Cafe Fulya today for lunch. I had a delightful Americano, a spinach pie that didn't suck but was nothing to write home about, and a very tasty cookie filled with shredded apple and walnuts. I ended up eating my cookie at home, though, while Mister wolfed down his Wawa hoagie. He got coffee, a shepherd's salad, and a strange egg dish...which he hated like he has hated no food before. The salad was pretty good, but it was a little heavy on the scallions and I have issues with onions.
The decor was fabulous - right up my alley. Everything was black and red - the chairs were clear and patterned with diamonds and a perfect red, which looked amazing with the black marble tabletops resting on wrought iron bases. We were seated on a red leather couch by the open window...which unfortunately allowed a group of flies to attempt to participate in our meal. The music was ambient and the stereo system was well camoflaged as it was black and surrounded by (unlit) red candles. I will go there again...probably alone.
In any case, as I mentioned, dinner made up for it:
Moroccan Mishmash serves 4-6
Ingredients: 2 Tbsp oil 3 large cloves garlic, pressed/minced 2 medium carrots, chopped 12 oz soy crumbles (I use Yves brand) 14.5 oz can of diced petite tomatoes 15 oz can of chickpeas, rinsed and drained 1 cup corn (I used frozen) 1/2 cup dried cranberries 3/4 cup V8 juice dash of black pepper (to taste) splash of balsamic vinegar 1 rounded cup of bulghur 14 oz (or 2 cups) vegetable broth
Bring broth to boiling in a medium saucepan. Add bulghur, stir and cover, then simmer on the lowest heat for about 15 minutes, until liquid is absorbed and bulghur is tender. Meanwhile, heat oil in a deep pot on medium-low heat. Add garlic and carrots, cover and saute 3-4 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add soy crumbles and break up with a wooden spoon, then stir into carrots. Add undrained tomatoes and simmer 3-5 minutes, then stir in corn, chickpeas, cranberries, and V8. Simmer, uncovered, 2-3 more minutes, then add black pepper and vinegar. Simmer, uncovered, on low heat for 10-15 minutes, stirring a couple of times. Serve over bulghur.
I am back and thrilled to report that tonight's dinner was such a success that someday I will be able to forgive myself for last night's dinner. After much deliberation, and eventually deciding based on an intense desire to stay away from rice tonight, I decided to cook the Pomegranate Saute on Cinnamon Bulghur. It was extremely flavorful, which was a welcomed change from the profoundly bland meal we ate last night. It also came together in a little less than one hour - another substantial difference from yesterday's cooking time. I was very pleased with the combination of sweet and savory - one of my favorite combinations. I'm not terribly sodium-conscious, but I try to pay attention because I'm sure one day it will be an issue. Something I remembered from a magazine article about the Satisfaction diet (in which you seek to be satisfied with less food by incorporating more of the essential tastes) is that vinegar, in the right quantity, can have the same enhancing effect on food as salt. I stopped trying to decide between salt and soy sauce and picked up the red wine vinegar. It worked better than I could have imagined! Anyway....
Pomegranate Saute on Cinnamon Bulghur serves 6-8 Ingredients: 1 1/3 cups water 1 cup bulghur 1 scant tsp cinnamon 1/2 tsp salt 1 Tbsp olive oil 2 large cloves of garlic, pressed/minced 1 green bell pepper, diced 1 cup corn 15 oz can of chickpeas, rinsed and drained 14 oz can petite diced tomatoes, undrained 12 oz soy sausage crumbles 6 oz apple juice 2 Tbsp pomegranate molasses 1/2 tsp red wine vinegar 1/4 cup roasted peanuts, crushed (optional)
Bring water, salt, and cinnamon to a boil. Add bulghur; cover and simmer on low for 20-25 minutes, until all liquid has absorbed. Meanwhile, saute peppers and garlic in oil over medium-low heat for 3-5 minutes, covered, stirring occasionally, until pepper is tender and garlic has browned slightly. Add soy crumbles and stir to break up. Increase heat to medium and brown soy crumbles slightly. Add corn, chickpeas, and undrained tomatoes. Stir to combine and bring to boiling. Add apple juice, pomegranate molasses, and red wine vinegar. Simmer on low, uncovered, for 15-25 minutes, stirring occasionally. Put peanuts in a plastic bag and crush with the back of a spoon. To serve, lay a bed of bulghur and spoon saute with juices over top. Garnish with peanuts, if using. By the way, if anyone is interested in learning more about the Satisfaction diet, I find it fascinating and would be happy to expound. Just leave me a comment and let me know.
As promised, I am back and I bring pictures! First, though - Dinner. Tonight, with the a/c blasting, I cranked the oven up to 450 for some pizza baking. Notes on the recipe - I have never put cubes of silken tofu on a pizza before...it was interesting and probably not something I'll do again. Also, in place of thinly slicing some tomatoes to provide the base, I briefly sauteed slightly more than a pint of grape tomatoes. Ultimately, dinner was a fail. It tasted fantastic, but pizza's only pizza if it sticks together and you can eat with your hands...the minute we picked up our slices, everything fell off. So, much like my cabbage adventures for yesterday's lunch, we just pretended we were eating bruschetta and piled everything back on and ate more carefully.
I think I used up all my words earlier, so now I'll leave you with a pretty picture show chronicling the last couple of days of food:
Monday's lunch: chutney bulghur, chickpeas, and kalamatas in a red cabbage leaf
Monday's dinner just after being washed...the colors were just so vibrant I had to share.
Monday's dinner - Seitan & Polenta with Fresh Greens
Tonight's pizza, pre-cooking. That's grape tomatoes, quartered artichoke hearts, diced silken tofu and chopped oil-cured black olives. It really didn't look any different post-cooking.
Tonight's little Mediterranean platter: green grapes, Pecorino di Pienza cheese, rosemary olive oil flatbread and mixed mezze olives.
It's only 9:30...there's still time for dessert...
Today was just full of tasty experiences! I feel like today was all about eating, but maybe I'm just more attuned to what I'm eating now, like I have to remember so I can give my oral report in class :)
I started my day with a nice bowl of perfectly ripe blueberries with Stonyfield Farms organic yogurt (plain). Last night, when I made the 'dillas, I had some stuffing left over and I thought it would make a great morning omelet for me and Mister to share. Unfortunately, after a month of 10-hour days getting me to work early, I'm having trouble sleeping in, so I just had berries - maybe we'll have the omelet tomorrow with some more of those juicy green grapes and multi-grain toast. I'll let you know tomorrow!
I believe I mentioned in an earlier post my plans for lunch today, but I'm pleased to report that I followed through and it was just as wonderful as I thought it would be (if not a little messier than I had hoped). I peeled the top leaf off my head of red cabbage and laid it as a bowl on my plate. I then proceeded to fill it with leftover chutney bulghur and sprinkled it with leftover chickpeas and just a few olives. I was going to chop them, but I was too lazy - I don't get many days off. Anyway, I attempted to roll it up, a la a burrito, and it was not havin' it. So then I figured I'd just "coax" it to fold in half like I do with pizza sometimes. No...that just caused a terrific amount of the bulghur and chickpeas to smush out the other side. I reloaded my little cabbage leaf and very carefully ate it like bruschetta. Still messy, but the best solution. I tried again with a second leaf and somehow managed to throw the bulghur between the table and the wall. I decided the best thing to do was sit at my table with my cabbage on a plate and my bulghur, chickpeas, and olives in their containers. I tore the cabbage leaves into fold-in-half-and-it'll-be-bite-sized pieces and then loaded each one up like bruschetta and pushed it into my mouth before anything could escape. So, it was a lot more work than I thought it would be, but it really did taste good.
A few hours after lunch, Mister and I took a walk down to the Italian Market. I visited the Spice Trader and got vanilla and peppermint extracts, brown sugar, and Swedish fish (for Mister). Then we went to Anthony's coffee house and got gelato, coffee, a roasted vegetable panini (for Mister) and a hunk of banana bread (for me). I had mint chocolate chip gelato and it was heavenly - the coffee was a perfect complement, too! Mister's panini arrived with a cute little bowl of pasta salad, which he gave to me - he also gave me the slices of roasted eggplant with which someone had "corrupted" his panini. I wished I had brought the camera, but again, it just didn't occur to me. After we enjoyed our treat, we walked home and then I went to the market to grab a few extra things I needed for dinner.
Dinner was wonderful - I made the Seitan and Polenta with Fresh Greens. It was so tasty! It smelled so good and was SO easy. I have to say, this Vegan Express book is working its way up my favorites list - everything I have made from there has been fast and easy. I have a couple of other books that promise fast meals, but this one really delivers! In addition to our main course, as I've mentioned, I'm trying to get better at side dishes. I was poking around online and came across one of the easiest things in the world and it sounded so refreshing, I had to give it a try.
Tomato and Strawberry Gazpacho - thank you Martha Stewart! You can follow the link to give credit where credit is due, but let me tell you the super easy recipe: 1 pound of ripe tomatoes 1 pound of strawberries 1 tsp of balsamic vinegar 1 blender or food processor
Voila! That's it. It took me about 3 minutes to put that together, including coring the tomatoes and stemming the strawberries. It was a gorgeous shade of rose pink (think deep, musty rose, not candy pink rose) and had a fantastically thick texture. I didn't get a picture because my camera battery died, and for that same reason I won't be posting any pictures tonight. However, there is some gazpacho leftover that I will probably dump (so gracefully) into a pretty glass and photograph tomorrow when the battery is all better, and then I will upload that picture as well as all the pretty things I ate for dinner and lunch.
I'm off again tomorrow and allegedly my air-conditioning will be fixed sometime in the morning/early afternoon. The reason for my extract and brown sugar shopping is a recipe I'm dying to make but I'm not trying to bake in this heat with no air conditioning. Also, I believe we're having pizza for dinner tomorrow, so the air better work!
I'm just giddy from what a great day today was. Pictures soon!
I finally made the Curried Chickpeas with Chutney Bulghur tonight. It was...interesting. It took me a few bites to start to appreciate the combination of flavors. Granted, I got the Sweet and Spicy Mango Chutney by Patak's, so that may have influenced the outcome of the bulghur being just a little too sweet for my husband's taste. It was certainly unlike anything I've made before. The chutney bulghur was sweet and pungent, with very strong ginger notes, whereas the curried chickpeas and tomatoes were very savory and delightful. My favorite part of the recipe was this mind-blowing moment:
"combine the chickpeas, tomatoes, curry powder, cumin, and turmeric in a small saucepan. Bring to a simmer, then simmer gently for 5 minutes."
This simple second step of the recipe caused me to read back through the ingredients and the recipe itself three times, convinced I was missing something. You know, nothing important, just the oil or broth or water I was supposed to add to simmer. Well, no matter how many times I reviewed the recipe, there was nothing! I thought, "I don't know about this," but I gave it a try. Of course, I had forgotten that the heat would cause the tomatoes to break down and create a delightful (and chunky) sauce with the spices.
According to the author, this recipe will serve 6. Unless I have serious misperceptions on how big a medium tomato is, I cannot imagine how this recipe would produce 6 main course servings. I'll give it four. Eh, on second thought, I suppose if we had added the suggested flatbread, steamed broccoli, and cucumber salad, it could have fed six, but only modestly. As in, not in America ;)
Anyway, the way it is in the book, this recipe will probably never find its way onto my table again. It wasn't a spectacular failure; Mister had seconds, and I'll have the leftovers for lunch. It was just too strong a combination, between the very gingery mango chutney and the bold, savory curry. The curry may find its way onto a differently prepared grain, though.
