Summer Salad You Won't Forget

Have you ever received a phone call where the person on the other end barely let you get out a "hello" before they started talking? Well, that's what happened to me two weeks ago. "All the cousins are getting together," my sister said, "and we're coming to your house. We're having a potluck and the theme is picnic. We'll be there by one in the afternoon. See ya"

Truthfully, the call wasn't quite that terse, but almost.

"We're coming to your house for potluck"

I hadn't seen my two sisters for many months because of health problems in their families and the cousin who is like a brother to me had nearly disappeared off my radar--even though he only lives about two hours away. All told, I was happy we who were related as well as the spouses would all be together again, even if for only half a day.

Picnic spread across the table. Yumm.

While my family supports my being vegan, I've always asked them not to take that into consideration when planning meals. So I set my mind to thinking about what kind of dish I'd prepare that I'd like and they would too. I finally decided on a bean salad unlike any other I've ever eaten. It's a recipe I received decades ago from a neighbor, yet I seldom make it because it makes so much I could just about feed an army. Then again, I figured the small army coming to my home might like it, so I dug my old, beat up recipe box out of the cupboard and began scrounging for the recipe. (I really should get these files in order.)

Family potluck--always a fun time.

The salad was a huge hit. Two of the relatives even asked for the recipe. I fully intended to email it to them when I thought to myself: maybe my vegan blog pals would like it too. So it is that I wish to share with you one of the best summer salads I've ever eaten. It's even safe to take on a picnic. And to leave out of the cooler. It's right up there on the top of the summer safe picnic scale. Even more, it's doggone good. I hope you like it as much as all the others I've ever served it to.

MARINATED BEAN SALAD

1 16 oz. can kidney beans

1 16 oz. can cut green beans

1 16 oz. can garbanzo beans

1 16 oz. can black-eyed peas

Dump all beans into a sieve or colander and rinse well with cold water. Allow them to drain well before putting them into a large bowl.

Add:

2 1/2 cups chopped celery

1 c. finely minced parsley

1 whole bunch of green onions, sliced, both white and green parts

1 small jar of stuffed green olives

1 small can of sliced black olives

Make the marinade:

1/2 cup olive oil

1/2 cup red wine vinegar

1 tsp. salt

1/4 tsp. black pepper

2 Tbs. brown sugar

1 garlic clove, mashed

Mix thoroughly and pour over the beans, vegetables, herbs, and olives.

Refrigerate for at least two days to allow the spices to infuse the bean mixture and everytime you pass the frig, give the beans a good stir to redistribute them from the top to the bottom so everything eventually gets coated with the marinade. This is not a make it and eat it dish.

Serves a small Army (about 12)

All that was left in the bottom of my 2 1/2 quart bowl was
this little bit and I had to diligently scrape it all
together so you could see the ingredients. If I'd been
wise, I'd have taken its photo before we ate.

Eggplant And The Best Caponata Ever

I love eggplant. Always have. Mom used to slice it into circles, sprinkle with salt, set the slices in a colander and let the " bitterness" run out. I don't mess with all that. I don't know, maybe eggplant growing has changed since I was a kid. Maybe the vegetable isn't bitter at all and mom just thought it was. Once the slices were ready for cooking, she'd give them a good rinse under cold water, dry them well, dip them in beaten egg then into crushed cracker crumbs and fry them in a whole lot of butter. My sisters and I always fought over who got the most and if but one slice was left on the serving plate, we had to draw straws to see who got it.

In all those years since the 1940s, we've learned a thing or two about cooking healthy. And while I would dearly love to eat eggplant fixed mom's way, I don't allow myself to do it. What I have discovered though is that eggplant is just plain good the way God made it. I do tend to peel it because to me, the peel is difficult to chew. Other than that, the vegetable is good baked or stewed or grilled or roasted.

I've tried caponata before and truthfully, never thought it was anything to rave about, let alone take the time to make. That is until I saw Chef Anne Burrell cook it up on the Food Channel. Doggone, the recipe was vegan and the only thing I tweaked was to add some tofu to make the dish a complete meal. I could barely wait to get into the kitchen and if you've known me long, you know that I absolutely hate cooking. But something about this recipe called to me. And guess what? It is undoubtedly the best caponata I've ever eaten--bar none. Thanks, Anne.

1 large eggplant, peeled and diced into 1" cubes
3 Tbs. olive oil

Fennel has a licorice taste and while some
like it raw, I prefer it cooked.

Salt and pepper

1 large red onion, cut into medium dice
1 pinch of red pepper flakes
1 fennel bulb, cut into half-inch dice
3 celery ribs, diced
6 garlic cloves, sliced thin
1 red and 1 yellow bell pepper, cut into medium dice
2 zucchini, cut into medium dice
8 oz. firm tofu, drained and pressed, cut into half-inch cubes
1/2 cup water
1/2 cup tomato paste
2 Tbs. sugar
1/4 cup red wine vinegar
1/4 cup golden raisins (I used regular since I was out of the golden ones)
1/4 cup capers, drained
1/4 cup pine nuts (I used almonds as that's what I had)
1/2 bunch of fresh mint, cut into slivers

Heat the oven to 400 degrees. Toss the cubed eggplant with the olive oil, salt and pepper and lay it in a single layer on a sheet pan. Roast it for 15-20 minutes.

Coat a deep pot with olive oil. Toss in the onion and crushed red pepper. Season with salt and pepper. Cook over medium high heat until the onions are soft. About 8-10 minutes.

Spend the $ for fresh mint. It makes
all the difference in the world.

Add the fennel, celery, garlic and tofu and cook another 5-6 minutes. Stir in the peppers and cook another 6 minutes. Add the zucchini and season with salt and pepper once more. Cook over medium heat until all the vegetables are soft. Toss in the eggplant, the water and the tomato paste. Cook until the water is evaporated. Dissolve the sugar in the vinegar in a small bowl and add it to the mixture. Stir in the raisins, capers, nuts, and mint. Cook another 5-6 minutes.

Serves 6-8 and while I served it hot with garlic bread, it's good cold too.

You know how some recipes just get better and better the longer they sit?
Well this is one of them. It was great on day one. Better on day 2. But
by day 3, what little was left, had an incredible depth of flavor.

Breakfast Burrito Bonanza

Many people say breakfast is their favorite meal of the day. While I've never been a big breakfast eater, I do love what's come to be known as "Brunch." Mid-morning is when I get hungry. And breakfast is what I want.

Imagine my joy when I found a scrambled egg  recipe in the Happy Herbivore cookbook that turned out to be so delicious I adapted it to my version of a breakfast burrito. My mid-morning tastebuds jumped up and did the Mexican Hat Dance. Honest. Can't you just picture it?

The interesting part is that this completely  eggless recipe ends up looking just like scrambled eggs. Not only that, it has the mouth feel of scrambled eggs and a flavor reminiscent of the same. But it's all crumbled tofu with some added spices and a few vegetables tossed in for good luck. I loved it and so did my guests. Happy dancing.

MEXICAN BREAKFAST BURRITO

1 lb. firm silken tofu, drained and crumbled with fingers to look like feta cheese. See the above photo.
1/4 cup nutritional yeast
1 1/2 tsp. Dijon mustard
1 tsp. onion powder
1 tsp. garlic powder
1/4 tsp. turmeric
1 tsp. adobo seasoning (I got mine at www.penzeys.com)
1 red jalapeno, diced, seeds and ribs removed
1 small zucchini, diced
8  crimini mushrooms, sliced
2 celery stalks, diced
1 small onion, diced
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 bunch cilantro, finely chopped

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Grease a shallow pan. I used one of my cast iron skillets for better heat conduction.

Crumble the tofu into a large bowl. Stir in the nutritional yeast along with all of the seasonings. Add salt and pepper to taste. Mix well so everything combines. Let it sit while you pre-cook the vegetables.

Cook the vegetables in a small skillet, about 5 minutes or just long enough to take the hard bite out of them. I cooked all of mine together, but if you prefer, you can cook each one separately. Add the vegetables to the tofu/spice bowl. Stir together till everything is mixed.

Put the tofu mixture into the greased or sprayed skillet and pat down firmly so there is good contact with the bottom of the pan. Bake uncovered about 25 minutes or until the top is firm and slightly brown. Let it sit a few minutes while you prepare the tortillas.

Warm 6 flour tortillas in the oven, microwave, or stove top. Spoon a generous portion of the scramble mixture down the center of each tortilla. Pour 1 Tbs. of red salsa over the top and sprinkle generously with chopped cilantro. Roll the tortilla into a burrito shape and serve immediately.

Makes 6

I served red rice as a side and baked apples for dessert. We were all too full to move, but our tummies were doing a happy dance.

These burritos will set your feet 'a-dancin'.....

Caldo Verde--I Did It My Way...

You've heard me say it a dozen times: I hate cooking. I read recently that those who hate to cook are always bad cooks. No one should make blanket statements like that because the blankets are never big enough to cover everyone. Just because I find cooking to be boring, time consuming, and about as much fun as falling down four flights of stairs doesn't mean I can't do it. Truth is, I'm a really good cook. I just don't think it's fun.

With Christmas on the horizon, I've been sitting in my chair knitting up a storm. That's what you  do when you're a senior citizen on social security. Keeping those needles flying leaves me little time to cook--as if I'd spend any time on it anyway. Because it's easy for me to knit and listen to television at the same time, I've got my channel set to the cooking shows. Truth is, I learn something new nearly every day without having to pay too much attention to what's actually going on. At least once a day, I hear one chef or another say that in order for food to taste good, it has to be made with love. I don't think I've ever put love into anything I've ever cooked. In fact I know I haven't. Well, maybe popcorn on the stove. The old time kind with melted butter. But that's another story.

I came across today's recipe in a vegan cookbook. It was called Caldo Verde. As I understand it, that translates into green broth. So I followed the recipe. Personally, I thought it looked boring. I also thought it tasted boring. Now my rule is if I'm gonna spend time cooking, the end result jolly well better taste marvelous. So I went to work on the Caldo Verde and when I finished fixing it, the aroma filled the house with such a tantalizing expectation of something good that the two guests I'd invited for dinner came snooping into the kitchen to see what was cooking.

"It's soup," I told them. "It used to be boring but I fixed it." They know me so they understood what I meant. I took the hot garlic bread from the oven, dished up steaming bowls of my version of Caldo Verde and we all declared it a winner. Now I have a reason for telling you this story. I want you to know that even if you find cooking a necessary drudgery, that doesn't mean you have to be a bad cook. And if anyone suggests that you should put more love into your food, look them in the eye and tell them the only love you feel toward food is the eating part. I can't tell you how many guests I've served in my many years of living who have eaten my food and said to me, "I thought you didn't like to cook. This was delicious."

I don't know who made up the rule that someone has to like doing something in order to do it well. Whoever it was, they lied.

No more nutritional yeast; used real Parm
to show what the finished dish looks like.

Caldo Verde 

Into your soup pot put:

2 Tbs. olive oil

1 large onion, chopped

3 garlic cloves, minced

4 medium potatoes, cut into small bites

1/2 cup celery, sliced small

1 tsp. marjoram

1/2 tsp. red pepper flakes

1/2 tsp. turmeric

1/2 tsp. thyme

1 tsp. salt

1/2 tsp. black pepper or to taste

Cook until the vegetables begin to soften, about 5 minutes

Add:

1 15.5 oz cooked cannellini beans, drained and rinsed (I used canned)

4 cups vegetable stock

4 cups water

1/2 cup dry white wine

Bring the soup to a boil then turn the heat to low, cover the pot and let the soup simmer about an hour, stirring every now and then.

Approximately 15 minutes before serving add:

1/2 cup tempeh that's been cut into small pieces

1 bunch of kale, washed and chopped

Turn the heat to medium and allow the soup to simmer 10-15 minutes. If desired, individual servings can be sprinkled with a bit of nutritional yeast to add a sort of Parmesan cheese taste to the soup.

This recipe serves 4-6, depending on whether it is used as a main course or a side. Any leftovers are even better the next day.

The Old Man Is Snoring Tortilla Soup

"It's raining, it's pouring,

The old man is snoring

He went to bed,

Covered up his head

And didn't get up till the morning."

Where I learned to sing this childrens' rhyme remains a mystery, though it was most likely my mom who taught it to my sisters and me. In any case, we three girls would stand at the living room window, watching the rain come down in sheets and we'd all chime in, singing about the snoring man who slept through the rain.

As a kid, I always figured the man slept because he was too old to do anything else. My sisters and I had no intention of sleeping through the rain. We loved a good storm, though even a gentle drizzle made us happy. If it was a summer rain, which came often in Minnesota, mom would allow us to put on our swimsuits and go outside and play. If lightning bolts accompanied the storm, we were confined to the house, lest we be struck by electricity and die. I never figured out how something way up in the sky could kill me but the three of us girls  understood that mom believed it so we had to be content to stand at the window and watch. There would be no snoring for us.

As I've mentioned before, rainy days and snowy days were soup days at our house. It was a tradition I carried into my own family and which my children have taken into their families. Somehow inclement weather and home made soup go hand in hand. At least on my family tree. And since I woke up today to gentle rain, hard rain, and intermittent rain, I instantly knew what sort of day it would be.

Not wishing to go to the grocery store but wanting to stay inside, wrapped in my comforter, a cup of hot cocoa at my side, my knitting in hand, and a good movie on television, I scrounged around the refrigerator and pantry to see what might be available for a hearty soup. I was in luck. There was just enough of this and that to fashion a hot, steamy tortilla soup. As it cooked on my simmer burner for at least an hour, the aroma filled the house and according to the mailman, even wafted out to the mailbox.

I suppose it was the spices I used. You know how heavy handed I can be with adding zing to any dish I conceive. Odd for a girl who grew up in the heart of America where food is usually boring. I give my mom credit for teaching me to have shelf upon shelf of spices and herbs in my pantry. And I credit my husband for teaching me to add assorted chili powders to those things that would benefit from a touch of heat. Try this easy knock-off tortilla soup and then tell me what you think. My tummy loved it.

THE OLD MAN IS SNORING TORTILLA SOUP

Rehydrate 1 cup of TVP (textured vegetable protein) with 1 cup of hot vegetable broth. Set aside.

Mix 1 small can of tomato paste, at least 6 oz, with 1/2 cup of soy, rice, or almond milk. Set aside.

Into a large soup pot put:

2 Tbs. oil

2 small jalapeno peppers, seeds and ribs removed and then diced

3/4 cup of diced onions

1/2 cup of diced celery

2 garlic cloves, minced

1/2 tsp. ancho chili powder (use regular chili powder if you have to)

1 cup of fresh or frozen corn

1 Tbs. siracha

Stir together until the onions are translucent.

Add:

1 medium sized can of diced tomatoes with juices (about 15 oz)

4 cups of vegetable stock

The tomato paste/milk mixture

Add salt and pepper to your taste.

Allow the soup to cook till it bubbles, then cover and move to a back burner or simmer burner, stirring it occasionally. Allow it to simmer 45 minutes to an hour so the flavors have time to blend. Add the rehydrated TVP during the last ten minutes.

Fill a soup bowl with the tasty goodness

Top with lightly crushed tortilla chips

Sprinkle with minced cilantro leaves

If added toppings are desired, you can use:

Vegan yellow cheese, shredded

Diced green onions

Avocado slices

Dig in. 

Now wasn't that easy?

Serves 4 as a main course; 6 as a side dish.

Storms And Soups

I never met a storm I didn't like. Now please understand that I am talking about a thunder and lightning extravaganza. I wasn't crazy about the three Minnesota tornadoes I lived through or the multiple earthquakes that have rattled my California home.

I love storms. Especially the thunder and lightning ones. Growing up on southern Minnesota's farmlands, my sisters and I got used to lightning bolts renting the sky and thunderous claps that seemed to jangle the whole house. I credit my mom with teaching us not to be afraid but to take pleasure in stormy days. How I remember my sisters and I sitting in front of the living room windows, watching the exciting displays and complaining when they were over.

Now we are all southern California girls and have been for a long time. Each one of us loves storms, has taught our kids to love storms, and they, in turn, have taught their children to love storms. I mention that only because these sissy native Californians are mostly so afraid of thunder and lightning that they draw the drapes, lock the doors, and hide in the closet till it passes. At least that has been my experience.

Since we don't get many good storms in San Diego, I have taught myself to be content with drizzly days, overcast skies, and foggy gloom. In my opinion, it's better than nothing. These days, all it takes for me to get in the mood for home made soup like mom used to make is a bit of a drizzle, a cloudy sky, and a lack of sunshine for most of the day.

That's what it was like yesterday. And the first thing I wanted was mom's Navy Bean soup. Being a vegan, I had to leave the ham bone out. Surprisingly, the soup was still delicious. Next time, I'm going to add just a little liquid smoke. I think that might make up for the smokiness the ham bone would have added.

Need I say that this soup recipe has been around a long time. Whether mom created it or got it from her mom or out of a magazine, I can't tell you. What I can say is that every spoonful reminded me of a childhood spent watching storms roll by. You can imagine any scenario you wish. As for me, I enjoy thinking about my times past, those simple days when all I had to worry about was whether last year's raincoat and rubber boots would still fit.

STORMY DAY WHITE BEAN SOUP

Into a large soup pot put:

1 Tbs. oil

2 carrots, small dice

1/2 cup celery, small dice

2 garlic cloves, minced
1 leek, chopped thin, all of the white and a bit of the light green

Saute until the vegetables are soft and translucent.

Add to the pot:

2  15 oz. cans of white beans, drained and rinsed

1 cup corn, frozen or fresh

3 1/2 cups of vegetable stock

1 bay leaf

1 tsp. salt

1/2 tsp. pepper

1/4 tsp. thyme

1/4 tsp. tarragon

1/4 tsp. oregano

1/4 tsp. cumin seeds

1/4 tsp. red pepper flakes or two dashes of hot sauce

Bring all the ingredients to a simmer. Use a potato masher or immersion blender to  break up about half of the beans so they will work as a thickener. Move the soup pot to a back burner, cover, and let it slowly simmer about an hour so the spices have time to marry. 

Serve steaming hot with garlic toast or biscuits or any other kind of bread that sounds good. 

This recipe serves 4 hungry people.

Author's note:

My mom cooked her beans from scratch. I was just too lazy and used canned cannellini beans because I was out of canned navy beans. You do what pleases you.

  

Bell Ringing Bean Salad

In the wake of September 11, the Liberty Bell was moved to closed and guarded quarters, that it might remain safe from any attack.

The summer I was eleven, my parents decided it was time for the three of us sisters to get in touch with our country's origins. Our family would drive to New York to see the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island. Along the way we'd stop in Philadelphia to visit Independence Hall where the Declaration of Independence was signed.

Independence Park itself is comprised of four city blocks and includes outlying areas that include Carpenter's Hall where the First Continental Congress met, Ben Franklin's home, the Gaff House--where Thomas Jefferson wrote the Declaration of Independence, and City Tavern, the center of revolutionary war activities.

My favorite landmark was the Liberty Bell. I was entranced. I took out the small Brownie camera I carried and shot photo after photo. For someone who loved history as much as I did, it was the star of the summer. There it sat, right out in the open, almost within a hand's reach. How I would have loved to hear it ring.

It has been said that "it's chime changed the world." Dramatic interpretation perhaps, but when the Liberty Bell rang out from the tower of Independence Hall during the original reading of the Declaration of Independence on July 8, 1776, everyone who heard it knew change was on the wind.

Originally cast in 1751 by the Whitechapel Foundry in England, the bell was intended to be nothing more than a State Bell to commemorate Pennsylvania's Charter of Privileges which set forth the rights and freedoms valued by people the world over.

History did not record why or when the bell cracked, only that once it did it was re-cast in America and then again in England. What we do know is that the bell rang to call the Pennsylvania Assembly together, to summon people for special announcements or events, when King George took the throne in 1761, to summon folks to discuss the Sugar Act of 1764 and the Stamp Act of 1765. By 1772 the people in the nearby vicinity had had it with all the noise and petitioned the Pennsylvania Assembly to "stop ringing that bell." 

When the British occupied Philadelphia in 1777, the bell was spirited away from the city and hidden beneath the floorboards of a church in Allentown, Pennsylvania. No small feat. The bell weighs 2,080 pounds, bears a lip circumference of 12 feet and stands nearly 5 feet high. The yoke is fashioned of Slippery Elm, and in itself weighs 200 pounds.

Today the bell is owned by the city of Philadelphia and is on display in Independence National Historic park--crack and all. Guess they really did ring it one too many times.

BELL RINGING BEAN SALAD

This is a wonderful salad for a backyard BBQ or any other place you  get together with friends to celebrate America's birthday. This recipe makes a lot and gets better the longer it marinates. Even better, no worries over contamination if it sits un-refrigerated. My suggestion is to make it a day or two ahead. I've eaten many a marinated bean salad in my day, but this is the best of them all. It's a real bell ringer.

1 can red kidney beans, drained

1 can cut green beans, drained

1 can garbanzo beans, drained

1 can black-eyed peas, drained.

2 1/2 cups chopped celery

1 cup finely minced parsley (important to the flavor)

1 bunch green onions, chopped

1 3 oz. jar stuffed green olives

1 can chopped black olives

In a separate bowl combine:

1/2 cup olive oil

1/2 cup red wine vinegar

1 tsp. salt

1/8 tsp. pepper

2 Tbs. brown sugar

1 clove garlic, crushed

Whisk together and pour over the bean mixture, tossing lightly. Cover and refrigerate at least over night. To serve, mix well and arrange in a bowl lined with crisp romaine leaves.

"Cheers for the sailors who fought on the wave for it,
Cheers for the soldiers that always were brave for it.
Tears for the men that went down to the grave for it.
Here comes the Flag!

Author unknown

Copyright 2011 by Sandra L Keith, All rights reserved.




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Farm House Soup--White Bean, Kale, & Sausage

I loved growing up on the Minnesota plains. WWII was finally over, rationing ceased to exist, and while I'm sure my parents dealt with the headaches of the day, a kid no worries. It was a time when I could walk by myself at night, ride my bike out to the woods, or sit by the river and read. My sisters and I knew no fear. How I wish it were like that today--if only for my grandkids sake.

I love homemade soup. Any kind. For some reason I can't explain, they all remind me of my farm country childhood. Just a whiff of their steamy goodness and an image of our family dining room with its ponderous claw-foot table flashes across my mind. Sub-conscious memories, I suppose. 

My mom made soups in the winter; I make them any season. Sometimes I serve soup with biscuits or garlic toast or cornbread. Once in a blue moon, I indulge myself with popovers. Popovers are my favorite, but off the books now that my new doctor says I have to be vegan for my health's sake. If I wasn't past 70, I'd suck my thumb.

Because our crazy Southern California weather can't make up its mind as to which season we're supposed to be in, there came a dark, rainy June day when my soup cravings came out of hibernation. Someplace in the back of my mind came a whispered word. "Soup." The whispers played their song for half a day, like one of those tunes you hear someplace and then can't get out of your head.

I finally convinced myself that the only way to get rid of the continued nagging was to give in. So I dug out my big blue soup pot and got to work. I dug around in the refrigerator, scoured the pantry, and invaded the spice cupboard. I pulled this and that and the other things, just as I'd watched mom do for the first sixteen years of my life. How could I have known what a tantalizing creation was about to be born?

White Bean, Kale & Sausage Soup

 2 cans of great northern beans, rinsed

1 Tbsp. oil

2 small onions, chopped

5 garlic cloves, minced

4 celery stalks, diced

Cook the vegetables together until the onions and celery are semi-tender. Then add to the pot:

1/2 tsp thyme

1/4 tsp. pepper

1 tsp. salt

1 tsp. basil

2 large bay leaves, or 3 small ones

1 large can of diced tomatos with its juice

Simmer all ingredients together so the spices work through everything in the soup pot.

Now add:

6 cups vegetable stock (more flavor than broth)

1 pound fresh kale, white stems removed, and the leaves chopped

Cover the pot and simmer for about 45 minutes. Just before serving, add 2 tofu Italian sausages, cut in bite size pieces. Cook another 5 minutes to bring the sausages to temperature.

_____________________________________________________________

I like the kale thoroughly wilted, so I cooked the soup on a back burner for about an hour. If you like your kale more toward the chewy side, add it to the pot about 10 minutes before you plan to eat.

For such few ingredients, I was shocked at the many layers of flavor this soup had. I suspect it was from the long simmering time but I'm not sure. What I do know is that no matter what you serve this with, it will be a winner all around. My two guests even went back for seconds. Is that a compliment or what? Mom would be proud.

Copyright 2011 by Sandra L Keith, All rights reserved
Beginning photo is courtesy of MS Clip Art
Soup photo is the property of the owner and may not be reproduced

These Black-Eyed Peas Don't Sing

My family loved picnics. Ever since I can remember, eating outdoors was my parent's favorite past time. Once I was married and in charge of cooking, packing, and hauling the food, picnics fell greatly out of favor--at least with me. Even today, I find no fun in sitting on the ground, swishing away flies, and packing up leftovers and dirty dishes to take home. My theory? Eat first, then go have fun with the family and friends.

Considering what I know now, I'm surprised I've lived so long. I grew up in an era where family picnics, church picnics, group picnics, scout picnics, and all the other summer picnics consisted of potluck food. The fried chicken sat out in the sun, waiting for someone to take the last piece; the mayo based potato salad did the same, as did the deviled eggs. Then there was the mayo based coleslaw and the smoked fish--all washed down with unpasteurized milk straight from the cow. All disasters waiting to happen. So how is it I've lived more than 70 years?

Maybe I'm a living miracle. More likely, God had mercy on a whole generation of us who knew no better. In today's world, I no longer take potato salad into the wild; fried chicken is a no, no. It isn't because I've been informed but because everyone else has too. What a waste it would be, since nobody would eat it and I'd just end up tossing it out.

After years of searching for picnic-safe foods, I've had some misses and near misses and a couple of tasty choices. And while each was tolerable, non tickled my palette like the one I'm blogging today. The center of this sunny day picnic salad is black-eyed peas--the original kind that just sort of hang around looking dull and tasteless. But combine them with anything else from the garden or market and your tongue is in for a tangy surprise that's sun-safe, heat-safe, and time-safe. And all because of a tiny legume that's known as a pea but is really a bean.

Black-eyed peas are popular in the South, but they offer such a mild, almost nutty flavor that they should become a favorite in every part of our nation.

BLACK-EYED PEAS SUMMER SALAD

1 can black-eyed peas, rinsed
1 cup mushrooms, any kind, chopped small
1/2 cup Italian salad dressing, your favorite

Put the peas, mushrooms, and salad dressing into a medium-sized bowl. Set in the refrigerator for at least an hour. Longer if possible in order to allow the dressing to permeate the peas and mushrooms.

In the meanwhile, cut into small pieces:

1 small red bell pepper
1 small green bell pepper
1 cucumber, seeded
1 tomato, seeded
2 green onions, sliced thin
2 stalks celery, sliced thin
4 oz. smoked tofu, cut into small cubes
8 Kalamata olives, chopped small
Pepperoncini pickles, as many as you wish, chopped small

Add all of the chopped ingredients into the bowl of peas and mushrooms. Mix well so the salad dressing is well distributed with all the vegetables.

These ingredients made a far larger salad than I had imagined. The first night, I stuffed a good portion inside a wheat pita pocket and added lettuce as a finishing touch. It was tasty and filling. I barely had room for the roasted corn I'd made.

The next day, I put some of the salad in a bowl (above) and ate it plain, accompanied by a few wheat crackers. The salad was much better than the day it was made. A pleasant surprise.

By the third day, I was nearing the end of my stash so I added some cilantro and a splash of hot sauce, mashed everything together and rolled it into a warm flour tortilla. By now, the salad was singing on my palette, forcing me to determine that maybe even this kind of black-eyed peas also had talent.

Conclusion: This summer salad keeps well and grows better each day that it stands, leading me to believe that I should make it about 3 days in advance of serving it. Every vegetable stayed fresh and flavorful and nothing tasted mushy. A real winner for those who attend picnics and want to take a dish that can take the sun without growing any nasty bacterias.


Copyright 2011 by Sandra L. Keith, All rights reserved
Top photo courtesy of MS Word Clip Art
Middle photo belongs to the author and may not be reproduced without permission

Laissez le Bontemps Roulez!

Mardi Gras is just a week away. Time to party hearty! A time of excess and revelry before having to behave for the next forty days!
A google search turns up a surprising number of vegan options in the Big Easy. Whoodathunk? But going vegan is super easy with this meatless dish. Adapted from Cajun Cooking by Marjie Lambert, it is one of my favorite cajun dishes, inexpensive to make, filling, nutritious and easy! The only substitution necessary to make it vegan is to use vegan sour cream instead of the real stuff. No sacrifice at all and oh so good. Leftovers if there are any, are even better the next day!

Meatless Red Beans and Rice
1 1lb dry red kidney beans
3 tbsp olive oil
1 large onion , chopped
4 cloves garlic, minced
2 ribs celery, chopped
1 carrot, chopped
1 green bell pepper, seeded and chopped
1 tbsp salt
1/4 tsp cayenne
1/4 tsp white pepper
1/4 tsp black pepper
1 tsp dried thyme
1 1/2 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp dry mustard
1 bay leaf
6 oz can tomato paste
1/2 cup dry red wine
few drops of Tabasco sauce
1 rib celery, chopped
1/2 cup chopped green pepper
6 green onions, chopped
cooked rice to serve
vegan sour cream

Soak the beans in at least five quarts of water a minimum of four hours or overnight. Drain, rinse and return to the pot with 6 cups of fresh water. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat and simmer, skimming the foam, while you prepare the vegetables.
While the beans are simmering, heat the oil in a skillet and saute the onion, garlic, celery, carrot and green pepper until wilted. Add the spices and saute a minute or so more until they give off their aromas. Add the vegetables to the beans along with the tomato paste and wine and continue simmering, stirring occasionally.
After about 30 minutes, taste the broth, add Tabasco to taste, and adjust the other seasonings. Cook until tender, about 1 1//2 hours.
Just before serving, stir the shopped celery, green pepper and green onions into the bean mixture. Serve over cooked rice with a dollop of the vegan sour cream.
The cornbread in the photo was made with Egg Replacer. I may be doing something wrong but have not had good luck with it. You might have better results.
Have fun at Mardi Gras! C'est Levee.