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....

wonders never cease

A couple of weeks ago when Mister and I did our speed-shopping at Essene, he misunderstood that I wanted him to fetch brown rice and basmati rice and returned with Brown Basmati rice.  Tonight was the first night I needed to open that bag and use it and it was an interesting experience.  Although brown basmati takes as long, possibly longer to cook than long-grain brown rice, it smells so much better.  I'm not sure of the price difference, but this might be a worthwhile switch for the future, because the only thing I hate more than the huge and unnecessary amount of trouble I have cooking brown rice is how bad it smells.

In fact, the brown basmati rice smelled so good while it was simmering that Mister, who previously was not sure he was hungry but "go ahead and start cooking anyway, I'll probably be hungry by the time it's done," shuffled into the kitchen and decided he was so seduced by the scent that he couldn't wait for dinner to cook, he had to eat a sandwich because he was so hungry now.

I hate it when he does that.  It really drives me crazy when he eats something I consider substantial right before we have dinner.  I keep forgetting the Food Math Mister laid out for me about a week ago:
I figured out that I eat about three times as much as you and twice as fast, so I'll always eat more and be finished first.

With that in mind, I tried to think of his pickle-n-mustard sandwich as an appetizer.  Clearly, it was, since he scarfed down two healthy helpings of dinner as well as half the olives I set out.  What was this magical dinner?

Greek-Style Rice Pilaf from The Vegetarian Times Complete Cookbook.  I had some serious misgivings about this dish while it was cooking and I will accept at least half the blame for that.  The recipe comes from the Fast, Fast Foods chapter of the book and the largest ingredient is 3 cups of cold, cooked rice.  Although I intended all week to make rice after dinner so that I would have it ready, I failed to do so.  As the weekend approached, I decided as long as I would have the time, I would prefer to cook the rice and then add it to the dish so it was fresh.  I think I underestimated the importance of the rice being precooked and cold.

Because I used freshly boiled rice, it was far more gelatinous that I would have preferred and I started to worry that it was going to resemble something too close to risotto for Mister.  Since you already know the end of the story, you know I needn't have worried, but it really started to look smushy and creamy.

It came out just fine and with just the perfect amount of lemon.  The lemon was extremely willing to give up its juice and because I felt the lemon flavor was way too strong in the chickpea patties I made the other night, I worried it would be overwhelming in this dish as well.  Apparently, I worry way too much - it completely enhanced the vinegary flavor of the artichoke hearts while the sweet green peas played the perfect foil by adding a touch of sugar.  I think the peas also brought out the mellow sweetness of the marjoram I subbed for oregano because I really wish I didn't have to cook with dried oregano ever and I can't wait until the herb garden from my mother blooms so I have fresh oregano.  Maybe then I can stop hating it.

When I put our dinner on the table, someone had taken up Mister's chair as though he was waiting for me to serve him at the table.

He's so good at scowling.  You'd never know how spoiled he is, with his china food and water bowls and leopard print appointed Kitty Cave.

sandwiches save the day!

I'm a big fan of utensils.  I like using forks and spoons, and when the occasion presents itself, I even like to use knives (when I can remember which hand holds them).  I don't mind "finger food" necessarily, but I don't particularly enjoy getting oil or sticky-ness or crumbs all over my fingers/hands if there's another way.

Yes, sometimes I do eat pizza with a knife and fork.  I have no issue spearing a french fry with a fork, either.

Anyway, my Sandwich Saavy is a little underwhelming, to say the least.  Something I found completely intriguing when I bought The Urban Vegan last year was how many recipes involved sandwiches.  The picture Dynise painted, though, was one of sophistication and elegance, rather than the not-so-attractive picture that is Me With A Sandwich.  MWaS usually involves graceless gnawing, possibly unappealing ripping apart of a formerly handsome sandwich, and probably a quickly deconstructed pile of carbs and "other stuff."  In other words, I'm not one of those women who looks sexy eating a sandwich.  I'm pretty sure I look something like a cross between a pig and a teenager.

So, although I would love to open my stylish, reusable lunch-carrying-device and gently lay a cloth napkin across my lap before gently taking a small bite from my pumpernickel and sprouts sandwich, generously spread with Sandwich Mousse that does not squish out the other side of the bread and fall onto the pretty napkin, I think we'll leave the Euro-style lunches to Dynise for now.  Let's talk about dinner instead.

Last night, I had a meal I have dubbed The Dinner of Champions purely because I was a little appalled at the combination of things I ate last night.  To provide a little background, I ended up getting home from work early since the police had to evacuate our building to search for the bomb the mean man called about.  Ordinarily, this would create a great opportunity for me to spend a little extra time making a special dinner.  However, upon my return, Mister shared with me that he had just learned of a friend's death and after we sat together for a while, he determined he did not want to eat.  I did, so I made a sandwich with apple butter and peanut butter, and then did my best to eat it without splooshing the apple butter out the back and on my un-napkined lap.  I was a little heavy on the apple butter, so I found myself craving something savory.  I heated up one of Mister's frozen hashbrowns and while I waited for it to get crispy and greasy, I poured a glass of Tempranillo-Merlot (it seemed like a nice splurge after the whole evacuation thing).  A little while after eating my hashbrown with mediterranean sea salt, I realized I was still hungry, so I made another sandwich.  Then I decided sandwiches + hashbrown + red wine was a deadly combination for my recovering digestive system.  Actually, the pain and nausea made that decision.

Sorry, no pictures, but I figure you all know what a sandwich looks like and if you've never seen a hashbrown, it's time to call your parents and ask them why.

Tonight, I got home late, as if to make up for yesterday.  The train was late, which is always awesome when it's whirlwindy and cold and threatening to rain, and then I had to stop at Whole Foods for bread and apples, so I decided to make my fastest cooking meal.  That just happened to be Lemony Garlic Chickpea Patties from Vegan on the Cheap.

The first time I made these, I found that the "dough" didn't stick together very well, so this time I added a little extra liquid in the form of vegetable broth.  Despite that, it felt like these little patties were a little lemon-heavy.  They also packed a bit of heat from the garlic that is still lulling around my mouth (I think I'll probably taste it until tomorrow).  I really like these patties, but a few tweaks will make them even better.

Next time, I'll press the garlic instead of chopping it and hoping the food processor does the rest.  It doesn't.  I liked the addition of the vegetable broth, but it seemed to make the dough a little too sticky, so I think I'll add it a little more slowly and give it time to work into the mixture more next time, or I'll add more Vital Wheat Gluten.  The first time I made these, I had gotten a great deal on Meyer lemons.  The difference in taste between the juice of those two little lemons and the "normal" lemon I juiced tonight was quite significant and definitely in favor of the Meyers.

Nevertheless, it was easy, Mister liked them, and we got to eat potato things, which is always a happy night in out home.  I'm happy to be halfway through the week because once again, I am looking forward to a productive weekend.  Hopefully, I won't get sick again!   Thank you to Kelly and Jackie for your thoughtful comments on the last post :)

it's the most wonderful time of the year

And it has nothing to do with kids jingle-belling or people telling me to be of good cheer - in fact, that might only encourage me to tell someone where to put their good cheer.  I wouldn't mind some much mistletoeing, though...

No, it's the most wonderful time of the year, specifically 2010, because the last six hellish weeks have finally met their end.  I walked (actually, I ran) out of the building tonight armed with the incredible knowledge that I made it and now I get to relax.  I will be away from work for a delicious week and a half.

Speaking of delicious... I greeted my greatly anticipated vacation by cooking with champagne and drinking the rest.  I took a swig right from the little bitty bottle after measuring out what I needed for the Lemon-Champagne-Braised Baby Bok Choy, then realized that just because I'm not at work doesn't mean I have to abandon all class, so I poured the rest into a wineglass for my swigging pleasure.  One really ought not drink champagne directly from the bottle, no matter how small it is.

To accompany the bok choy, I made Pan-Seared Tofu with Basil-Balsamic Glaze.  I was pretty pleased with the way the flavors worked together and even more pleased that I found the energy to make such a fancy dinner on "my friday."

First, I wrapped my tofu in a fresh towel, placed a plate upside down on top of it and weighted it down with two of my favorite (and heaviest!) cookbooks.  After an hour, I unwrapped it, rewrapped it in a new towel, and replaced it beneath the books.  I have never pressed tofu so thoroughly in my life, but this is another recipe I'm testing and the author has requested that the recipe be followed precisely the first time, so I pressed it for two hours.  It all worked out, though, because the time it took to press the tofu let me unwind for the first hour, and then I spent the second hour prepping and cooking the bok choy.

Something I love about bok choy, especially baby bok choy, is that when you trim the bottom, it looks like a pretty pale green rose.  Those two beauties are posing with my single-serving champagne bottle.

Here is my pile of bok choy, pre-braising sauce.  In case you've ever wondered what 2 lbs of baby bok choy looks like, now you know.  Also, if you were wondering what kind of pan you would braise 2 lbs of bok choy in, the answer might not be your standard 9x13 - as you can see, it was nearly overflowing.  The leaves reduce a lot during braising, but it was a challenge to fit it all in while it was still raw.

While I was preparing the bok choy, I started marinading my tofu.  I flipped it probably four times, and when the bok choy had only about 10 minutes left of cooking, I preheated a cast-iron skillet and pan-seared those little suckers for about 3-5 minutes on each side.  They developed an attractive, dark crust around the outside of the tofu and the basil stuck on pretty tenaciously.

Mister had some pretty mixed reactions.  I kind of thought that might happen, so as we sat down, I reminded my poor, tired, cranky (but relieved) self that I didn't make the recipe for him.  I made it because I thought it would be fun and I enjoyed the process.


Turned out he liked the bok choy just fine, which is funny, since I thought that would be what he didn't like.  He did comment that the amount of lemon might be overwhelming for someone who wasn't expecting it or who didn't like lemon, but we liked it just fine.

He wasn't crazy about the tofu.  I liked it, but I could see his point - despite the marinating time, it seemed like the tofu just didn't absorb much of it.  The glaze was nice, but there was too much bland, squishy tofu in between.  I like the marinade, so I do want to try this again in the future, but I'm going to suggest to the author that the tofu would be better if it was sliced more thinly so it would end up a little more firm and crispy.

wheat is out to get you

Shhh...don't make any noise or sudden movements - it will find you.

I made Mediterranean Risotto for dinner tonight, but I'm not posting any pictures because it didn't look any different than it did when I made it with barley. Here are the main changes:
1 cup of arborio rice (vs. 1 cup pearled barley), cooked in 2.5 cups broth added 1/2 cup at a time and allowed to absorb before adding more. 1/3 cup chopped sun-dried tomatoes (packed dry, no oil, vs. 3/4 cup) added with the third addition of broth. I also completely left out the white pepper and didn't add the chopped peppers and olives until the last addition of broth.

The thing about wheat is this: Despite my alterations, this risotto is still way too intensely flavored, so we ate it with bread as scoops. Wheat bread. But we might not have known that wheat bread contains wheat if it weren't for the very helpful label on the back, letting us know that there is wheat in the wheat bread.

It's blurry, but the little white tag at the bottom says:
"Allergan Information: This product contains wheat."

What I want to know is this: are there really people that stupid? What did you think would be in wheat bread?

In other news... today I gave in to myself and ate my beloved Clif Nectar bar, flavor: lemon, vanilla & cashew. Again, the packaging itself makes me happy - it's a very mellow shade of yellow...one I can imagine painting a future kitchen.

This bar is absolutely sublime. I could just sniff it (and normally do, just before nibbling tenderly at it) and be happy because it smells SO good. All 5 ingredients (dates, cashews, goji berries, lemon juice concentrate, and vanilla) are certified organic. That may or may not mean something, but it makes me feel more like I'm ingesting pure sunshine.

Nutritionally, the price is right for a snack - 160 calories, only 6g fat, yet providing an equal 6g of dietary fiber and 4g protein (which isn't much, but you look for stuff like this after too many people ask how on earth you can possibly get enough protein without eating animal corpses *gasp!*). Also, this little 1.6 oz bar claims to provide 2 fruit servings in its delectable little self. The thing that really gets me about this bar is how creamy it is in texture, which I think is primarily owed to the velvety cashews. The ratio of vanilla to lemon is also perfect. I can't recommend this bar enough - I love, love, love it!

But here is my puzzle:
A Nectar bar is 1.6 oz.
A Larabar is also 1.6 oz.
A Nectar bar lays claim to 2 servings of fruit,
but A Larabar only claims 1 serving of fruit.
Both bars are made up of fruits and nuts.
All I can come up with so far is that Nectar bars are more concentrated on the fruit aspect of the bar, where Larabars depend heavily on nuts to texture their bars, therefore leaving less room for fruit. If you have a better answer, though, I'd love to know it - leave me a comment!