fun with homemade seitan

So, in my continuing quest to be frugal and use what I have resourcefully, I made seitan on Sunday and since I had everything I needed for this recipe, it didn't cost me a penny, much less the 459 of them I would have spent at Whole Foods.

Okay, that's kind of a lie.  Not the price - that's true - but the motivation for making seitan.

Going back a week.... Now that we're hosting Thanksgiving, my precious Mister gets to have his long-awaited Tofurky Roast.  We started that "tradition" last year and continued it this year.  The night before Thanksgiving, however, we celebrate with his father and that whole side of the family.  Throughout some conversations, I heard Mister answer someone inquiring about the taste of Tofurky this way: "Well, it's better than the worst turkey you've ever had, but not as good as good turkey."

Silly me, I took this, added it to the fact that Mister only had one slice the following night at our Thanksgiving, and came to the seemingly rational conclusion that Mister didn't like Tofurky so much as he felt like Thanksgiving required it and he just kind of muddled through it for that reason.  So, the day after Thanksgiving, as I was giving thanks for not having to work on Black Friday (see? unemployment is fun!), I decided to eat the leftover Tofurky, gravy, and potatoes.  Do you see where this is going?

So, later that night, Mister went rummaging through the fridge for way longer than usual.  Finally, I asked him what he was looking for.  He said "The leftover Tofurky," and I felt that little twinge of guilt and then said "Oh.  I ate it."  Crestfallen, poor Mister looked for something else to eat, even though he'd apparently "been looking forward to it alllllll day."

Bad wife.  Someday I'll learn.

Anyway, Mister has mentioned in the past that the homemade seitan [loaf] I make is seasoned in such a way that it tastes like lamb, the other thing my sweet Greek misses about eating animals.  To make up for being selfish and thick-headed, I spent Sunday making seitan, which I then sliced and served as filet with Broccoli Chickpea Casserole from Vegan with a Vengeance.

Last night, I wanted to use up what was left of the seitan, so I created a delightful little mediterranean ragout, based roughly on a new recipe in Vegetarian Times by Nava Atlas.

I should say the resulting dinner was "loosely inspired" by the recipe in this month's VT.  In the end I think the only similarity was the 2 Tbsp olive oil and 3 shallots (which were not small).

I don't really have a name for it... I guess you could call it

Broccoli and Seitan Stew (as in, the kind of stew you serve over rice or mashed potatoes)
4-6 servings

2 Tbsp olive oil
4-6 cloves garlic, pressed or minced
3 large shallots, sliced
1/2 to 3/4 cup vegetable broth
1/2 tsp sea salt
1/4 tsp black pepper
4 cups broccoli florets
15 oz petite diced tomatoes, undrained
about 2 cups cubed seitan

Heat the oil in a large saute pan (4-qts) over medium-low heat.  When oil begins to shimmer, add shallots and garlic and stir well to coat.  Reduce heat to low; Cover and stir occasionally for about 7-10 minutes.  About halfway through, you may find the garlic is sticking and/or browning more than you'd like.  If so, add a splash of broth to deglaze the pan and add some liquid.  By the time you add the broccoli, the shallots should be browning slightly and very soft.

Add broccoli, sprinkle salt and pepper over the broccoli, then pour in half of the remaining broth and cover.  Turn up heat slightly and allow the broccoli to steam for about 5 minutes undisturbed, then lift the lid and stir to combine broccoli and shallots.  Stir in tomatoes, then add the cubed seitan and the remaining broth.  Stir well and cook for about 10 more minutes, uncovered, until everything is tender and smells amazing.

Serve over an aromatic rice (I used Jasmine) or mashed potatoes if you're lucky (and your spouse didn't eat them all...).

and now for the bonus round

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.

Tonight, I made Moroccan Chickpeas and Zucchini from Appetite for Reduction.

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.

big mess in my kitchen

Things I have accomplished since dinner:

• Cleared the table
• 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...

birthday coffee and shameless plugging

I will beg your pardon ahead of time - this post may bounce all over the place.

Yesterday was my dad's birthday which is absolutely no excuse for not posting since we didn't do anything but talk on the phone, but all I did for dinner was send Mister out for more tortilla chips while I reheated the leftover chili, so I didn't consider that very post-worthy.  Something post-worthy could have come out of the conversation I had with my dad while I walked home from work, but I couldn't think of anything clever to say about his boat being shrink-wrapped for the winter (but doesn't it evoke a fabulous mental image of men on ladders with hair-dryers?).  Here's something I love about my dad, though - me calling to wish him a happy birthday turned into him asking whether I prefer my coffee beans whole or pre-ground... just in case he returns to the Realm of Dark Chocolate Ecstasy Coffee this weekend...

Tonight, I made an old favorite recipe that I haven't made in years for no good reason except my own lack of imagination: Penne with Spinach and Chickpeas in Garlic Sauce from Quick Vegetarian Pleasures.

Angst absolutely loved all the little Hummus Balls (chickpeas) Mister was sharing with him.  First he licked off all the salty, garlicky sauce, then he ate up his Hummus Balls with great gusto!  And to think, possibly the only reason I haven't made this in recent years is because it didn't occur to me to just leave off the Parmesan - shame on me!

Okay, I'm sure a little of my negligence was due to the cookbook-buying spree I went on when I discovered how many amazing vegan cookbooks there are out there, thanks to the blogiverse.  Speaking of amazing vegan cookbooks....

Yanked from Amazon.com

Best segue I could come up with accidentally to remind everyone that Celebrate Vegan by local Philly Urban Vegan, Dynise Balcavage is now available through Amazon.com and you should order it.  This is the cookbook I had the incredible privilege of testing recipes for over the winter last year and I know I can't wait to get my hands on it!

For your reading pleasure, and with the hopes of enticing you to get this cookbook with express shipping, here are some links to my wintertime testing:

1. Farfalle with Shallots and Chard - I cannot wait to make this again!
2. Gussied-up Tabbouleh and Smoky Zucchini Bean Dip - the best tabbouleh I've ever had.
3. Pasta with Red Peppers and Basil - because "a big pot of pasta is a happy thing" according to Mister.
4. Lemon-Champagne-Braised Baby Bok Choy and Pan-Seared Tofu with Balsamic Glaze - I kind of want to start stockpiling the baby bok choy now... I already have a little bottle of champagne in the fridge.
5. Funeral Cake - BEST CHOCOLATE CAKE EVER and just in time for some Addams Family Halloween Fun!
6. Mega-Israeli Salad - the only thing better than the crunch is the bite of the garlic.

You can also click on the "testing" label at the bottom of any of those posts to see more adventures, but seriously - you need this cookbook.  Celebrate Vegan by Dynise Balcavage - go get it!

a [sur]prize in every box!

I had a revelation this morning as I was getting out of the shower.

Angst always sits in the bathroom to keep me company while I shower in the morning (or afternoon, on days off sometimes).  As I was stepping out of the shower, I asked him if it was bad that I was already actively anticipating the end of the work day I had not yet begun, purely because I have tomorrow off?  See, I just started my job a month ago and I am very happy there.  However, here is the discovery Angst and I made this morning:

No matter how much you enjoy your job, you still prefer your days off.


I could be wrong.  Some people find their jobs positively completing and I know there are folks the uninitiated refer to as "workaholics" who find their job so fulfilling (or inescapable) that they would be perfectly happy to just take a dinner break and keep working into the night.  I enjoy my job enough to work on things far into the night, but I prefer to do so in the comfort of my own home, until Mister tears me away from my computer and reminds me we have a bed, too.  Nevertheless, I was very happy to finish up this evening a little after 6 and once again, magically get home before the sun fully set.

I love how much time my new schedule/shorter commute allows Mister and I to spend lingering over dinner or hanging out before I even start heating a pot.  I love that even though we had a nice little conversation and then I talked to my sister for about 20 minutes while emptying the dishwasher and putting various other things where they belong, I could still take my time and make dinner at my pace - no need to rush.  After dinner, Mister made decaf coffee and we sat and talked about my sister's new boyfriend and people getting pregnant and trapping themselves in a situation that looks like "mandatory marriage" - and by the way, those two things are unrelated - Breathe, Mom!  Anyway, we just kind of babbled at each other about the obscure things we find interesting and when we excused ourselves, it wasn't even 10!

We had the last meal on the last menu, Warm Chickpea Ragout with Swiss Chard, Carrots and Harissa from Vegetarian Times Fast & Easy.

We've had this several times before, but Mister had absolutely no recollection of it.  It did taste a little different - a little more savory, which added the benefit of controlling Harissa's heat.  The only thing I could think of that I did differently was that I used a half cup of the leftover garlic broth, which is pretty pungent.  I also added a generous amount of salt and I can't remember if I've done that in the past, since I usually only mess with things that have a specified quantity, rather than the disgruntling "to taste."

It was very tasty and I love how harissa allows me to eat spicy things without my entire face burning off in the process.

Anyway, completely by coincidence, my menu ran out the night before my day off (I wasn't originally supposed to be off tomorrow), so let me share a short menu with you - a mini-menu, if you will.  Full-sized version will be introduced over the weekend.  A recent comment reminded me just how well loved my Sundays at Moosewood Restaurant cookbook has been over the years - in fact, I'm pretty sure that was a primary guide for me as I learned how to cook.  Pages are dog-eared and stained, some stick together a little at the yellowing edges, and favorites have been marked along with "someday I have to try this" recipes.  I've been neglecting the book for years, so I decided to pull it out for this week's menu. I had thought that I'd been neglecting it because a lot of the recipes take a while to cook, but I discovered two other things that have probably been deterring me unconsciously.

First, the recipes are built for a restaurant, and are therefore, huge.  I don't need that much food and I don't feel like figuring out how to divide everything to only make enough for me and Mister and Leftover Lunch.  Second, and probably more importantly, there are very few vegan recipes and the tweaks required would probably strip away the charm of the original recipe.

"Hey! I veganized a recipe that someone converted from a meal full of meat into a vegetarian recipe."  Wow.  That's great.  That sounds like cousins who can legally marry, barely, to me.  So, with all that in mind, I chose the following three irresistible recipes, all from Sundays at Moosewood Restaurant.

1. Vegetable Biryani - I have not had many moments in my culinary "career" as proud as the moment I made this the first time.  After years of spaghetti and veggie burgers, this was a gourmet achievement of the highest order.  It's actually really easy, but I haven't made it in a while because I have an even easier recipe with fewer steps (and fewer pots).

2. Pasta e Fagioli because hey, what's one more Pasta e Fagioli recipe when you're keeping a secret tally of how many Pasta e Fagioli recipes you have to how many Beans 'n' Rice recipes you have?

3. Harira, which is a huge pot of African soup which Muslims traditionally eat to break the fast of Ramadan.  We are neither African nor Muslim and if we were fasting, Mister would need a lot more than soup to break the fast, but this was one of the first soups I ever made that did not involve a can-opener, so you can consider this a little prideful trip down Memory Lane.

My fingers are cold.  I think it's time for a Cosmo.  See you tomorrow!

Thursday's the new Friday

I've reached the "weekend," so to speak.  Despite being very happy at my new job, it is still a welcome break.  I would like to say [just one more time] how much my quality of life has improved with this job change.  I came home, stopped at Superfresh, CVS, and the wine store before getting home and spending at least a half hour talking to Mister before starting dinner.  We ate dinner and everything was cleared and cleaned by 9 and I've just spent the last hour or so "surfing the web," a luxury I usually reserve for one Sunday every two months or so.  I have so much time!  I'm just really happy.  Finally.

Despite my early start and euphoria, tonight was still not going to be the night for spanakopita, so I made Chana Masala from Vegan Express while the tomatoes were in that delicate place between perfectly ripe and rotting.  Cooking with fresh tomatoes is both a rewarding and stressful experience.  For one thing, nothing beats the flavor of lightly sauteed, summer-fresh tomatoes, or the sweet explosion of flavor from a raw grape tomato at the peak of ripeness.  On the other hand, I really do get seriously grossed out from the seeds.  I don't know what it is, but it's enough to turn my stomach sour if I look too long.  If only I could buy pre-seeded tomatoes.  But that leads to the last point - there is really only one or two days that they are truly, incredibly edible and if you miss those days, you're either coaxing flavor from a hard, yellow-green, overly-acidic tomato, or begging the one you're trying to cut to refrain from rotting for just one more minute while you try to dice the grainy, falling-apart flesh while it separates itself from its skin (but never its stupid seeds...).

Anyway, tomato-induced trauma aside, dinner was light and tasty:

I can't tolerate Indian-influenced recipes served on brown rice, so I used white Jasmine and it was perfect.  I would have preferred basmati, but until I have my huge chef's kitchen when Mister's solo album goes gold, there's only room for two rices.  The tomato curry sauce clung very lightly to the creamy chickpeas, with a very subtle hint of What-is-that-Oh!-it's-lemon lying just beneath the garam masala and turmeric.  As a contrasting but perfectly intense side dish, I roasted some asparagus with salt and pepper.  I thought about adding some garlic, but decided to let the simple spices of my childhood draw out the naturally perfect flavor of these right-sized stalks before they go missing (or obscenely over-priced) for the winter.

In case you can't tell, I was as satisfied with our dinner as I am by my new urban-centric life.

On that note, I'm off to celebrate with red wine, dark chocolate, and a book about NOLA witches.

mashterpaters

Now, now, scoop your mind out of the gutter.  Remember - this is a food blog!

Although I had every intention of making Orecchiette with Cherry Tomatoes and Kalamata Tapenade tonight, Mister had more Penne Arrabbiata for lunch, so I didn't think he'd want pasta for dinner.  I contemplated the menu and decided that I was in the mood for Chickpea Cutlets from Veganomicon, alongside heaping piles of fluffy, creamy mashed potatoes.

I made this once before, to mixed reviews.  It was my opinion that "what went wrong" was my failure to increase other quantities in the recipe when I went ahead and used the whole can of chickpeas instead of measuring out one cup.  This time around, I did alter the other ingredients accordingly, resulting in the meatier texture that was missing the first time around.  I did need a steak knife this time.

The mashed potatoes were okay.  They were better than the last batch, but I'm still working my way up to HolyCowTheseAreTheBestMashedPotatoesI'veEverEaten and we're not there yet.  These were sufficiently creamy, as I used Earth Balance as the fat and plain soymilk to make creamier.  I thought I had sprinkled them generously with salt, but I also think I underestimated the amount of mashed potatoes I would work it into.  In a sense they were almost a little sweet and that really isn't a quality Mister or I seek out in mashterpaters.

Angst was begging, so Mister gave him a little bit of his cutlet.  Angst sniffed at it a little and eventually got around to eating it.  When he came back and was sniffing at the air, I thought he wanted a piece of my cutlet as well.  That is one thing I will say for these cutlets - even if they're a little squishier than Mister would prefer and would benefit from a little more seasoning in the future, they sure do stink the whole place up in the most delicious way.  Anyway, I pulled a little piece off and gave it to Angst...who just kind of looked at it, looked at me, and started snuffling at the air again.  I told him mashterpaters don't smell like anything, but he wasn't buying it.  To prove to him he didn't want the potatoes, I gave him some.

I will never learn.

He loved them and ate them all up.

We call this his GruntleFace (as in disgruntled)
You can see his little brow furrowed, can't you?

rock you like a hurricane

So, hopefully, I can write this post and put it live before we lose power.  Although it doesn't seem that bad, the lights have flickered and everyone else I know seems to be losing power, except for two insane friends who went out to dinner in a hurricane warning.

You're welcome.

Anyway, it's been a soggy, drippy, noisy day so far and the fun is just beginning - apparently the real good stuff is coming in about an hour or so.  I had a glorious day of being trapped in my apartment (which, after spending 13 hours a day outside of it for the last 4 and a half years is actually quite okay), drinking cups (yes, multiple!) of New England Chocolate Cappuccino coffee and eating Pretz-a-bagels, which Mister and I spied at Superfresh last night and could not resist bringing home.  I'm also 100 pages into the second reading of an Anne Rice novel old enough to be of drinking age if it was a person.  We also got a call from Mister's sister with fabulous news.  I won't tell you what it is, but here is Mister's stunning response:  "Do you know what flavor?"

Since I do anticipate losing power, I'm going to fill you in on our incredibly tasty dinner, the new menu, and then I'm going to pour some champagne and return to the Mayfair family for some good old-fashioned, time-traveling, imagery-overload fun.

I was planning to make the longest-cooking Jambalaya recipe I have, but then I realized that without the need for work-lunches this week, I didn't want that many leftovers while we were still working through the ones in the fridge.  So, instead, I pulled out The Urban Vegan to make the Chickpeas with Tomatoes and Spinach curry.  I had some doubts about this recipe primarily because I was already pretty happy with the Isa-recipe I have from VwaV for pretty much the same meal.  I also was a little leery of her description, in which she really plays up what she claimed was a "creamy" character of this curry.

Honestly, the only curry I have ever eaten that I would call creamy involves coconut milk or yogurt (real or soy, depending on when I made it).

Mister and I unanimously agree (which is, of course, quite a challenge...) that I stand delightfully wrong. This curry is incredible and it is creamy for no good reason.  It might possibly be because I couldn't find a 15 oz can of crushed tomatoes so I just used a 15 oz can of tomato sauce, but it's not like I used prepared sauce or anything.  It truly seemed attributable to the silky spinach and creamy chickpeas.  Additionally, this recipe used a fresh chopped tomato, which I think cut down on the acidity usually unavoidable in canned tomatoes.

Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, this is one more reason everyone should own The Urban Vegan.  And hey, as long as you're on Amazon ordering that, you may as well see if you can qualify for free shipping by adding Mama Pea's book.  Then, after that transaction is complete, you can pre-order Celebrate Vegan and Vegan Pie in the Sky - I figure that since they're both due out in October, within a week of each other, maybe they'll ship together and you can get the supersaver free shipping on them, too.... but even if you don't, if you follow all of my instructions you'll at least end up with four killer cookbooks that didn't kill anything....

On to the menu!

1. Orecchiette with Cherry Tomatoes and Kalamata Tapenade from VWaV - I'm pretty sure that will be tomorrow's dinner since it's been hanging in since last week and the cherry tomatoes and fresh parsley might band together for a mutiny soon.

2. Chickpea Cutlets from Veganomicon with Mashed Potatoes.  I figured I can do some slower cooked meals this week since I don't have to worry about starting at 9PM or later.

3. Seitanic Red and White Bean Jambalaya, also from Veganomicon and also awesome and slow-cooking.  I'm just going to let this one stew for hours, literally.  It's going to be incredible.

4. Pasta Della California, also from Veganomicon.  This one will wait until my rock-hard avocado ripens a little more.

5. Tofu Spinach Lasagna from The Vegan Table.  Truth be told, I've wanted to make this for quite a while, but it requires a bit more energy that I feel like exerting at 9pm and on the weekends, no matter how grand my aspirations may be, I get lazy and want nothing to do with that kind of project.  Normal people can just stir up a tub of ricotta....I have to turn a block of tofu into "ricotta."  Fortunately, the results are so worth it.


6. Penne Arrabbiata, also from The Vegan Table.  This was dinner last night and a few bites in, I determined it will also be Mister's lunch this weekend.  I had the good judgement not to add all the red pepper flakes prescribed in the recipe, but I still added too many for my tender Irish tongue.  Mister, on the other hand, loved it and dutifully had two bowls last night and one for lunch today.  I swilled the last of my Malbec to quell the pain.

Alright, I got through the post without losing electricity, so mission accomplished.  As a reward, I'm going to eat a few squares of dark chocolate, drink rose champagne, and read my book.  Enjoy your evening and if you're on the East Coast, stay safe!

meatless moroccan

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!

makes mouths happy

Mister loves mashed potatoes (well, potatoes in general, but he definitely loves mashed potatoes as a top three pick).  Actually, let me try that again:

Mister looooooooooves mashed potatoes.

He also loves broccoli and chickpeas and garlic.  It stands to reason, then, that Mister loved tonight's dinner: Forty-Clove Chickpeas and Broccoli from Appetite for Reduction.  Angst kind of liked it, too - he liked the little balls of "raw hummus" Mister kept giving him.

There's Mister's lunch tomorrow - one of the few times he will happily eat leftovers.  As he got up from the dinner table tonight, he proclaimed it one of the best dinners ever because it was made up of "so many favorite things!"  I must agree.  Also, in my own mindful eating of dinner, I made two discoveries - one sweet...the other less so.

I discovered the unbridled bliss of biting into a forkful of mashed potatoes to find a perfect chunk of roasted garlic inside.  Such a powerful flavor, especially because this particular chunk had a whole side that had been browned by the roasting, so it added a kind of darker, smoky aspect.

The second thing I discovered is actually more of a slow-dawning realization.  I do not have a "go to" mashed potatoes recipe.  I have recipes, and occasionally, I follow one - most of the time that is because it is directly linked to the other recipe I'm making and I feel bad making one without the other.  That was not the case tonight - tonight, I simply decided to serve the pile of roasted perfection on top of what I had hoped would be light, creamy mashed potatoes.

I have actually accomplished that, by the way - just wanted to clear that up.  I didn't quite get there tonight, though, which I'm choosing to blame on the lack of Earth Balance and soymilk for blending.  In their place, I added a fair sprinkling of kosher salt, a generous dab of olive oil, and a very rounded spoonful of hummus.  The hummus definitely helped and I can see myself using it again in that capacity, but what I'm getting to is this: I shop for my recipes, so if I have a recipe for something, I know exactly what to buy.  If I had made mashed potatoes from a recipe, I would have purchased soymilk and replenished the Earth Balance before it got down to the miserable little teaspoon currently hogging the whole tub.

Summer isn't a big time for mashed potatoes (or roasted things, for that matter), so I'm issuing myself a challenge this fall (which is creeping closer, believe it or not!).  This fall, I want to perfect my own awesome "go to" recipe for mashed potatoes so flavorful and creamy we'll forget any allegiance we ever paid to those [delightfully convenient] Country Crock mashed potatoes in a microwaveable tub.

I'm also hoping this will ward off the Baking Bug just long enough for me to protect my waistline through the winter months.  Except for two things that will probably interfere....

Celebrate Vegan, the new cookbook by Dynise Balcavage (The Urban Vegan), which I had the extraordinary fortune to be involved in through recipe-testing, will finally be released on October 18!

One short week later, Isa and Terry's new book, Vegan Pie in the Sky, will also be released on the unsuspecting public.

Stay tuned!  Every menu from now until Christmas will be made exclusively from Appetite for Reduction!


(j/k)

I love cucumbers

This is something that I forget almost every winter.  I love cucumbers.  I love the way they smell, I love the way they taste, I love their crunch and the fact that you would have to do something really bad to a cucumber to make it not naturally cool.  Something evil, like microwave it.

For however happy cucumbers make me, there is something else that makes me sad.  That thing is always the same: tomato seeds.  I don't know what it is about tomato seeds, but I find them utterly repulsive and everything about them makes me unhappy.  I hate cutting into a grape tomato to have the seeds squirt out and more than that, I hate slicing the core out of a "normal" tomato and finding it left behind a virtual colony of gross little seeds, encased in some gelatinous substance that then adheres them to the wall of the tomato I just want to dice.  There have been times that the sight has literally caused me to gag.

Fortunately for everyone, a cucumber and tomato salad cannot be beat and even I'll admit that.  Additionally, something wonderful happens to raw tomatoes when they marinate for 30 minutes or more in a "dressing" of sea salt, lemon juice, and olive oil.  It's almost as though the salt and lemon juice "cook" them a little.  My only complaint about this salad is the incredible amount of dressing left at the bottom of the bowl.

In case you haven't guessed, either by the salad or process of elimination, tonight's dinner was Chickpea Croquettes with Greek Salad Topping from Vegetarian Times: Quick and Healthy.  I've made this before, when it was originally featured in Veg. Times, but I don't remember being quite as impressed with it that time as I was tonight.

Since it was Friday and I was pretty proud of myself for making it all the way here again, I decided there was nothing wrong with a little cooking partner.  Meet Aperitif:

Malibu Pineapple Rum + Papaya Nectar + Lime Perrier
HAPPY FRIDAY

I don't know if I've only used this bag of chickpea flour for this recipe and nothing else (and therefore it has been sitting, bored and cold in the refrigerator, for a year) or if I've managed to sneak it into something else, but I have to say - I'm completely intrigued by chickpea flour.

What's even more awesome is that this stone-ground "good source of protein" has a recipe for hummus on the back which is created not by pureeing chickpeas in blender, but rather by combining this flour with water and a few other flavor elements.  I really want to try that when our current super-tasty Cava Mezze Roasted Garlic Hummus runs out.  Considering how great it is, that shouldn't take long.

I combined the hummus mix chickpea flour with cumin, salt, and chili powder, then whisked it until it was homogenous in color and not nearly as pretty as it is above.  In place of boring old water, I decided to mix it with vegetable broth for added flavor, so perhaps that was a contributor to my happiness with how it came out.

Add in some diced orange pepper for crunch and deception.  That's right - those little orange cubes are liars for two reasons.  One, they were supposed to be red, but red peppers are not having a happy season just yet.  More importantly, though, because the finished product was far more garlicky than I expected it to be, I kept expecting the crunchy texture to lead to the distinct realization that I'd bitten into a clove of garlic.  That was not true, though, as the sweetness of the pepper shone through after only an additional chomp.

One of the most rewarding parts of the evening was cooking up 8 of these suckers without setting off the fire alarm.  This may not sound like an achievement to you, but almost every time I "fry" something with spray oil on a skillet, I end up overjudging the heat I need on the burner, which results in me burning at least the surface of something (they're "blackened," like cajun-creole, ya know?) and generating enough smoke to set off the alarm.

That didn't happen tonight because I finally figured out that it's okay to a) cook with the exhaust hood running and b) lower the heat once the skillet it where it's supposed to be.  This results in more evenly (and quietly) cooked food.

When I was preparing to set the table and deliver our dinner to it, I turned to find Angst had camped out in "Roast" position in front of the fridge.  Bizarre little cat.  Turns out he was thirsty and knows that's where Mommy keeps the "special" (Brita) water.  Spoiled, I tell you.

Anyway, dinner was delightful, especially with the crunch and sweetness of the orange pepper to break the potential monotony of a pretty bland-looking meal.  Chickpeas in chickpea flour?  It doesn't exactly scream excitement.... but maybe it should.  After all, it is spiked with chili powder and cumin.

Speaking of spiked....

ghetto sommelier

I don't actually have any official training in wine, but my uncle did fine dining long enough to learn quite a bit and pass it on to me.  I want to say that he did actually have formal training in the art of being a sommelier, but I can't remember and unfortunately, I can't ask him.  What I do remember is him giving my sister a lesson on the 10 Steps to Tasting Wine on her 21st birthday.  What I remember even better is her not caring at all (she's the beer and cocktail half of us...I do the wine and occasional cocktails) while I did my best to absorb and memorize every word he said from the periphery.  Okay, occasionally I got distracted by the "are you kidding me?" look on my sister's face.

Anyway, I do love wine.  I make a lot of jokes about liking wine too much, and sure, there are times I do.  But I drink wine because I like wine, not because I'm trying to become inebriated.  This is why I had de-alcoholized wine served at my wedding and it was quite delicious.  Mister actually discovered Ariel wines relatively early in our relationship and gave me a beautifully packed crate of four varietals, surrounded with a hay-like substance and dried babies breath and other flowers.  He did this because he recognized that I actually enjoy wine and he wanted to share that experience with me, but he doesn't drink alcohol.  That was probably one of the most romantic gifts he ever gave me...my 29th birthday present was pretty good, too...

Isn't my engagement ring pretty?  Okay, anyway, back to wine....

The point of all this rambling is that over the years, I've tasted a great many wines from various regions and different colors: Pinotage from South Africa, Shiraz from Southeastern Australia, Cotes du Rhones from France (and despite my objections, it became a favorite), Tempranillo from Spain, Tres Milliones from Mexico, Malbec from Argentina, and its drier cousin, Torrontes, as well as several different Rieslings from Germany.... surprisingly, Pennsylvania has several vineyards that produce well-rated wines - one of the best reds I've had was a 1998 Cabernet Franc from Chaddsford Winery... but I maintain to this day that the rest of their wine is bordering on awful.

As I've tasted each wine, I've tried to figure out what is different about it, what is special.  As I got more involved in cooking and creating, I wanted to use my tasting experience to appropriately pair wines with my dinner.  There are times I regret a little that Mister and I don't crack open a bottle of wine and drink it down while eating dinner and then popping olives in our mouths while alternately discussing philosophy and world events (we only do the latter), but Whole Foods was the only place I could get Ariel, other than ordering it, which is an ordeal in the city, to say the least.  Due to alcohol laws in Pennsylvania, and the fact that Ariel is "real wine" that has simply had the alcohol removed, Whole Foods lost their "okay" to sell it (Pennsy's a weird state sometimes), so we haven't had it since our wedding.

Regardless, for my dining pleasure, I enjoy matching cuisines or specific flavors with a wine I think would complement the flavors, or so intensely contradict them that it works somehow.  I can't do cocktails with dinner - I don't know how anyone can, personally.  For me, a cocktail is an aperitif, possibly a dessert beverage, but the meal requires wine.  Obviously, the easiest dinner to pair with is an Italian dinner.  It's a no-brainer: Italian food = Italian red wine, or at least a full, dry red wine.  Asian fare usually leads me to Riesling (a German wine) because of the amazing juxtaposition, and on the off-chance that I make dinner too spicy, it has an amazing cooling quality.  It's the middle ground or one-offs that perplex me.

Tonight, I made Chickpeas Romesco and served it on Saffron Garlic Rice, both from Veganomicon.  According to Isa and Terry, this is a latina dish - Spanish, even.  A Tempranillo or Malbec probably would have been very appropriate accompaniments to this dinner, but I had something specific on my mind.  It was so specific, in fact, that if I had walked into Wine and Spirits and it had not been on the shelf, I would have walked back out, rather than buy one of the aforementioned latino wines.  Nothing against, 'em - I love me a good Malbec and it doesn't take much convincing for me to indulge (though paydays usually help).

Surprisingly, the wine I was determined to serve was American, and not even a "normal" wine, rather a blend.  Probably not surprisingly, that blend is Apothic Red, my current darling.  Regardless of that fact, as well as that it was on sale, I have so completely analyzed and memorized the flavors of this wine that I couldn't think of a Malbec or Tempranillo that would have matched the flavor I was going for.  So I swooped into the wine store, picked up a bottle, and the first sip at dinner confirmed that I made the right decision.

The savoriness of the garlic-oil rice and the perfect, chunky sweet-umami of the chickpeas and sauce worked perfectly together.  The wine brought out the sweetness of the ground almonds and subtle sprinkle of sugar in the sauce, while the almost meaty texture of the slow-braised chickpeas brought everything together.  It's nice to be right sometimes.

how low can you go?

[note: Blogger crapped out on me mid-post last night, so "Part I" will be last night's post, leading to "Part II" which is tonight's dinner adventures.  Look it as a bonus post!]

I have pretty low blood pressure.  I have since I was a young teenager.  The same way that some people (ahem, Mister) need to eat a certain way to manage their blood sugar levels, I sometimes have to eat to manage my blood pressure.  It's actually a fairly enviable position in which to find oneself - I fear, though, for the day Mister's family history of heart disease threatens our little family because we love salt.  Although I am good at enhancing the flavor of foods without adding salt, I would not be as happy a little chef if I couldn't add my precious Mediterranean Sea Salt to roasted vegetables.  In fact, my world might stop turning if I couldn't sprinkle roasting broccoli or asparagus or potatoes with this magical mixture.

I don't have any pictures because Mister and I were in quite a rush to eat (hungry, hungry hippos), but dinner really wasn't anything especially attractive tonight anyway.  I made Pasta Puttanesca from Vegan Express and roasted some broccoli with olive oil and the sea salt blend as a side dish (gotta get some green in there, right?).  For you to truly understand why I love this blend so much, I want to clarify that there are plenty of other flavor elements besides just the incredible chunks of sea salt that catch themselves in a floret to deliver a satisfying crunch when you bite down.  The ingredients on my blend are: sea salt (really?), garlic, basil, oregano, lemon peel, red bell pepper, and the ever ubiquitous "natural flavor."

Speaking of red bell peppers, I don't know what happened to the one I was supposed to slice for tonight's dinner!  I know I got one, but I'm wondering if I accidentally used it for a different recipe.  In any case, I ended up substituting my orange bell pepper for it and I don't think it mucked up the flavor too much.  The pasta was good, but not as good as I wanted it to be and not as incredibly tasty as the roasted broccoli.

Speaking of broccoli....  When I was at Trader Joe's, I saw a bag of broccoli florets for what looked like a pretty decent price - probably a better deal than anything but frozen.  I looked around a bit and discovered that I would get a lot more broccoli for my buck if I bought the convenient pre-cut bag of broccoli than if I got a couple of spears and spent all that time separating the little florets from one another.  Score one for convenience!

[Part II]

Ever since our "celebrity chefs" came to visit and put on a little show a couple of weeks ago, I've been craving chickpea burgers.  Chef Michael Solomonov (Zahav, etc), made turkey burgers, served on the burger thins I love.  They looked so much like chickpea burgers, I kept hoping that if I wished hard enough, they would be.  Alas, they remained little beige patties of ground-up birds, so I had to DIMyself.

I didn't take a picture of the burgers because a) they were not even close to as attractive as Chef Solomonov's turkey burgers and b) burgers just aren't all that exciting to photograph.  Even though the turkey burgers looked very tasty, I would not have whipped out my camera if I'd had it with me.  I might have just had a small inspiration, though.  We'll get back to that later.

Along with the Lemony Garlic Chickpea Patties from Vegan on the Cheap I made the Middle Eastern Chopped Salad from Vegan Express.  This was most definitely worth photographing:

Local cucumber, tomatoes, and a yellow bell pepper came together to make a colorful and festive looking salad, sprinkled with fresh parsley and lemon juice, enriched with olive oil and oil-cured black olives.  I love cucumber-tomato salads dressed with lemon juice and olive oil.  I think I would have been happy to include some garlic as well, so I'll keep that in my mind for the next time I make this salad, but I will freely admit that I am sorry I've never made this before.  It's a lot of chopping, so between that and the made-from-scratch burgers, dinner took well over an hour to prepare, but it's nearly Friday, right?  A little sleep deprivation never hurt anyone, right?

countdown is on

Angst is angry with me.  To be fair, it is a little warranted.  All my poor little kitty wanted for dinner his last night on earth (because he is a holy kitty and will obviously be part of tomorrow's rapture) was Sloppy Joes, but instead, because I am a mean, mean lady (which is why I will be left behind), I made Chickpea Piccata from Appetite for Reduction.

As it always is, it was delightful, and Angst, despite his intense scowl, decided he would like to try a taste of the non-sloppy-joe dinner.  Mister tried to convince him that it was nothing he would like, but he did so by lowering his plate so Angst could sniff at the food...which resulted in Angst trying to eat the food right off of Mister's plate.

Ever generous and a much better kitty-parent than I am, apparently, Mister plucked a lemony chickpea from his plate and put in on the floor for Angst to realize he didn't want.  Angst licked off all the sauce, kind of like he does with hummus on pita, and looked at Mister for more.  After allowing the chickpea to "age" a bit, he came back and chewed up his "raw hummus."  For dessert, we gave him some of his Birthday Catnip.

After all, if he doesn't finish it tonight, it'll go to waste.  As they say, you can't take it with you...

The countdown has begun.  Since the Beginning of the End is supposed to start at 6pm local time, starting in New Zealand and rippling through the time zones with terrific inevitability, I did some math of my own.  If the huge, ne'er-seen-before-magnitude earthquake that signifies God closing the door to Heaven (before pulling up all the righteous - figure that out) is supposed to start at 6pm in New Zealand, and New Zealand is 7 hours ago in tomorrow (stay with me), then we will know if the Endtimes are really upon us in one hour.  At 1 AM Eastern time, it will be 6 PM in New Zealand.

I hope the world doesn't end, though.  It would really put a damper on my weekend plans.  More tomorrow!

Hopefully.

ail et au citron

I think I'm going to come out with a "signature scent," meant specifically to be worn on the fingertips.  Obviously, I have no idea how to make or market perfume, and if my name appeared on cosmetic shelves, it would only be followed by the oohing and ahhing of people wondering just who the h*** Natalie K is.  Nevertheless, someday when I'm famous, women everywhere will riot for the opportunity to wear Natalie K's Ail et au Citron*.  If it does well enough, maybe we'll come up with a brut aftershave for men...

I'm normally pretty good at following directions, mainly because I figure they're there for a reason and the originator of the directions knows better than me.  However, I think I've missed the point of Appetite for Reduction.  Surely, if I developed a serious weight problem and had reason to "take it seriously," this would be a great cookbook to follow the directions to a "t" and lose weight while enjoying delicious and diverse creations.

Fortunately, I don't have a weight problem.

Yet.

Seriously, though - can you look at the Chickpea Piccata, nestled in its little cloud of fluffy mashed potatoes, settled on a bed of baby arugula and tell me, truthfully, that you could refrain from having seconds?  Of course not!  And that's just from looking at a picture - if you had one little taste of the rich, lemony-yet-savory sauce or bit into a single creamy chickpea or briny caper, you could not stop.  If you could have smelled the scents wafting through my home, you'd have been following your nose into the kitchen just like Mister did.  If you could enjoy the texture contrast of creamy, fluffy mashed potatoes against crunchy, peppery, green arugula, you could not resist a second helping.

Mister and I sure couldn't.  We'll add this to the No Leftovers Series.

*if you can't read French, check out google translator.

stinky simmers

I love cooking food that stinks up my whole house.  I truly do.  One of my mothers-in-law (I have two; my husband's an alien) told me that all she needs for her kitchen to be perfect is a flawless oven hood - which she hasn't found yet.  She doesn't seem to have anything against the scent of food while it's cooking, although she does frequently have a pot of mulling spices on a back burner when we dine there, but she can't stand smelling the food after she's eaten it.

I love her, but I think that's a little weird.

Right now, if I take a nice deep sniff of my home, I can still smell the winey-leeky-lemony goodness that characterized our dinner: Wheatberry "Paella" with Chickpeas and Leeks, courtesy of thePPK.com.

Isn't it pretty?  Can't you smell the savoriness through your screen?  It's what you can't see, though, that I think really pushed this over the edge from tasty to really-darn-good: Turkish Bay Leaves.  I always underestimate their ability to enhance a dish, but they lend this unmistakable smokiness, some kind of tangible earthiness to the dish.

The leeks smelled so good while sauteing that Mister came into the kitchen, sniffing at the air like a bloodhound (or Angst when he thinks he wants my breakfast).  I gave him a slice of roasted red pepper and sent him back to his room :)  By the way - if you ever have a recipe that calls for exactly 2 roasted red peppers and you don't feel like roasting them yourself, find Mt Olive Roasted Peppers - a 12 oz jar has two whole peppers, roasted to perfection and mostly seed-free.  Helpful Hints from Natalie (that's my imaginary by-line in VegNews).  You're welcome.

Isa admits in the recipe that the wheatberries, being all pre-steamed and whatnot, wouldn't soak up alllll the liquid, leaving it a little "saucy" to use her word.  Soupy would be my word, but it might be my fault the wheatberries didn't soak up more broth, since I steamed them about 25% longer than the recipe said to.  Although it makes for a very food-magazine-friendly photo, I was a little worried about how Mister would feel.  He's not a big fan of "sauce" lingering at the bottom of his bowl.

Also, as we sat down to eat, he seemed a little too focused on tasting the food.  Mister is a very fast eater, so whenever he takes his time, I become paranoid that he doesn't like dinner.  I thought I saw him eating around the wheatberries, which I thought might happen - I wasn't sure if they would qualify as "squishy wheat."  If they did, he didn't tell me, and I took it a positive that he followed me to the stove for a second helping.

He did drain off the "sauce," though.

memories come in different flavors

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!