Stuffed Grape Leaves

Siren's Feast an Edible Odyssey by Nancy Mehagian is a culinary memoir. Really. There is a genre called culinary memoir. I've read a few, including Tender At the Bone by Ruth Reichl, (no recipes) and Pat Conroy Cookbook, (loaded with recipes). Good reads. So when it was announced that Nancy Mehagian would speak to the local writer's club, I was there early to get a front row seat.

Nancy Mehagian is an attractive woman in her late fifties or early sixties. She had a comfortable way about her, the way she stood, the way she dressed, her infectious smile. As she spoke, giving us a hint of her life, I knew that she had led a spiritual life, searching for adventure and truth. She read us the introduction to her book, about growing up Armenian in Arizona. About the large family gatherings where food was the star. She told us about traveling to Spain in her early twenties, falling in love with the country and opening a vegetarian restaurant there. She read us the chapter about her trip to the famous Amarnath cave in India, she hinted at a stay in prison in England. She was a hit. You know you are a hit when the audience begs you to read another chapter, so she did.


After her talk, we were invited to meet her at the back of the room. Smart lady, she brought two large plates of Stuffed Grape Leaves for us to sample. This woman knows how to sell a book.

A large jar of Grape Leaves has gathered dust in my pantry for about nine months. I think fear kept them there. I looked and looked at recipes. Most of them had raisins and cinnamon in them. I couldn't taste them - you know, how you can read a recipe and know it will be good.

Nancy Mehagian's stuffed grape leaves were delicious. I can't tell you for certain what convinced me that I needed to buy her book, the story or the recipe. I needed that recipe.

I made a few changes (in red) to her recipe. The finished product was delicious, but not as pretty as hers. It takes practice to wrap a perfect Grape Leaf, and after wrapping about 40, I got better. I love them, and I love the idea of gathering friends and family to prepare stuffed Grape Leaves together before a celebration. Like Mexican tamales, and Scandinavian stuffed cabbage, Stuffed Grape Leaves are a labor intensive project, made pleasurable when shared with friends.

Most of the Grape Leaves I made went to a solar eclipse party on the top of the Santa Monica Mountains. How appropriate. Sorry, I don't have a picture.

Stuffed Grape Leaves  

Makes a lot - 30-40 

1/3 cup olive oil (sunflower oil)

3 large onions, finely chopped

4 cloves garlic, minced

1 tsp dried dill weed

1 tsp dried mint leaves (3 tablespoons fresh mint)

1/2 tsp paprika

1 bunch parsley, finely chopped (cilantro)

1 tsp salt

1/2 tsp ground black pepper

1 cup white rice

1/2 cup tomato sauce

1/2 cup pine nuts

1 cup water

1 jar of grape leaves, 16 oz

1 cup water

1 lemon + 1 lemon, sliced at serving time.

Heat the oven to 350 degrees.

Saute onions and garlic in oil until translucent.

Add next ten ingredients and cook for about 10-15 minutes. The rice will not be done, but on it's way.

Stuff the grape leaves as shown HERE, putting about a teaspoon of rice mixture in the center of the leaf.

Arrange the stuffed grape leaves in the bottom of a dutch oven, pour 1 cup of water and the juice of one lemon over the grape leaves, cover and bake about 20 minutes, until rice is cooked.

Cool. You can serve these hot or cold. I prefer cold. 

Serve as an appetizer with fresh lemon wedges. 

Chickpea Tikka Masala

I've fallen in love with something new. It's a spice called Tikka Masala and I buy it online at My Spice Sage. I've always had Garam Masala in my cupboard, but this one was new to me and the first time I used it, my taste buds stood up and danced. Honest.

In the beginning, I purchased the smallest amount for a small amount of money, just to see what it tasted like. Since then, I put it in just about everything that comes out of my kitchen. There is no vegan dish that's safe anymore. The depth of flavor Tikka Masala gives is perfect for my palette since it is the spices and herbs that makes eating vegan a delight rather than disgusting.

I put a pinch of Tikka Masala in my soups.

And on my veggie burgers.

And in my vegetable stews.

And in my rice.

And in my stir frys.

And in my oatmeal. Oops, got carried away. I don't do that one.

I discovered a Tikka Masala recipe in Everyday Happy Herbivore by Lindsay Nixon and I have to say that not only did I love it, but so did my company. We all went back for seconds. If you like the flavors of India, you'll adore this dish. Be warned: it is spicy. But not the kind of heat that hurts the mouth or the lips as does Mexican food. I served some vegan yogurt alongside for no other reason than to cool my mouth down every now and then.

CHICKPEA TIKKA MASALA

In a blender, mix:

6 oz. silken tofu

1 Tbs. fresh lemon juice

Continue blending until the mixture looks creamy

Put into a saucepan:

1 8 oz. can of tomato sauce

2 tsp. ground cumin

1 tsp. paprika

1/2 tsp. onion powder

1/2 tsp. garlic powder

1/4 tsp. ground cinnamon

1/4 tsp. ground ginger

1/4 tsp. garam masala

1/8 tsp. turmeric

dash of cayenne pepper or hot sauce.

At the end, add 1 16 oz. can of chickpeas, drained and rinsed. Cover the pan and heat until hot. Stir in the blended tofu. Add salt and pepper to taste. Serve over rice. Garnish with cilantro and a dollop of vegan yogurt.

OR: In place of all the above spices, except for the garlic and onion powders, use 1 Tbsp. of Tikka Masala spice mixture. Saves a lot of measuring and not so many bottles sitting on the counter.

The only other exception I made to this recipe was to add 1/2 cup of diced tempeh, which I added with the chickpeas. The tempeh gave the dish a meaty mouth feel and added an extra layer of flavor that I found pleasing.

Tiz The Season To Be Busy; So Dinner Must Be Easy

I don't know about you, but at my house it always seems that Christmas falls on the woman in the family. Perhaps I'm wrong. But around here it was me who made the cookies and cakes, shopped for all the gifts, wrapped every package, planned Christmas dinner, shopped for all the food, then cooked all the food, decorated the tree (all but the lights, hubby put those on) and then got out a step stool to get all the good dishes down from the top cupboard where they resided most of the year.

I was the one who hollered for help to put all the leaves in the dining table, then by myself, I set the table with the good dishes I'd drug out and washed and the good silverware I'd dug out and polished and the crystal glasses I'd taken down from a top shelf and scrubbed till they sparkled. Hubby's job consisted of putting up outdoor lights and heading out on December 24th to find me a present. Oh, and putting the star on top the tree, simply because he could reach it and I couldn't.

Now I don't know how you do things, but Christmas at my house was exhausting. Even now that I'm alone, what with kids married and hubby graduated to heaven, this time of year is still busy. And while my daughter has taken over my duties and is having dinner at her house, there is still a lot for an old lady to accomplish. Gifts still need to be conjured up, purchased, and wrapped and, in some instances, mailed off to other places. Considering that I'm not a young chick any longer, the things I have to do are enough for me.

Busy as I was, I cheated on my cooking this week and will likely be cheating till after the first of the year. I can't seem to find time to create another vegan recipe and accomplish everything else I have to do. Having a few vegan cookbooks on my shelves comes in handy. Tonight I began with an offering from Everyday Happy Herbivore by Lindsay Nixon.  I love black-eyed peas, and once I saw the recipe, I looked no further. I made a couple of changes in the original recipe and next time, I'll make a few more. But just as it is, it has lots of flavor, fills the tummy, and is quick to make. I labeled it just right for those times of the year when dinner has to be fast or none at all.

CARIBBEAN PEAS AND RICE

2 1/2 cups vegetable broth

1 bunch green onions

2 celery stalks, minced

1 Tbs. minced fresh ginger

4 fresh thyme twigs (1/4 tsp. dried)

1 1/2 tsp. green Tabasco sauce

2 tsp. jerk seasoning

1 cup brown rice (I used white rice as it's faster cooking.)

2 Tbs. ketchup

1/2 tsp. turmeric

1 tsp. salt

1/2 tsp. pepper

1 bunch kale, chopped small

1 15 oz. can black-eyed peas, drained and rinsed

In a large saucepan, pour a layer of vegetable broth and saute the onions, celery, garlic, ginger, thyme, hot sauce, and 1 tsp. of the jerk seasoning. Cook over high heat until the celery is soft. About 3 minutes. 

Add the remaining jerk seasoning and stir to coat. Stir in the black-eyed peas. Cover and move the pot to a back burner to simmer and let the spices meld. Do not let the pan go dry. Add more broth or water as needed to retain moisture but not to drown. In all, you'll likely use about 1/2 cup of the broth.

In a small saucepan put:

2 cups of vegetable broth, the ketchup, and turmeric. Stir to combine.

Add the rice. Bring to a boil and cover. Turn heat down to very low and ignore it for 20 minutes. (If you use brown rice, cook for 45 min.)

About 10 minutes before serving, add the kale to the black-eyed pea mixture. Cover and cook till the kale is wilted.

To serve, place big serving of rice on a plate and top with the black-eyed pea/kale mixture. Sprinkle with some green onion tops if desired.

I used Swiss chard instead of kale because the chard looked fresher. Any green would work. Your preference.

The fresh ginger was too strong for my palette. Next time I'll cut it by half.

Jerk seasoning is available in the grocery store's spice aisle. Buy it and make your life easy. Otherwise you'll be mixing this and that and twelve other spices together to get what someone has already bottled up.

Dinner was on the table in about 30 minutes. Can't beat that for a busy day.

This Christmas season, share your table with someone less fortunate than you. I don't remember a holiday as a child growing up when there were not strangers at our table. Sometimes it was a teacher who was alone or a couple from our church who had no one and once we moved to CA, there were always two or three marines who were far from home who ate with us and thanked my parents over and over for allowing them to be part of a family on Christmas Day.

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.

Easy Autumn Salad

It's turned cool in S. California. Again. October weather is typically up and down. Right now it's down. I so love the cold nights and sunny, breezy days. Now you realize that when I say the word "cold" I'm not referring to my part of the world as being like N. Idaho or MN, where I grew up. What I mean is "cold" for us. And with that cold comes the changing of the leaves. Finally. I'll have to head up to the mountains to see a lot of trees changing colors but for right now, those around town suffice.

Oddly enough, when autumn shows up, my nature is to head toward home made soups and hot out of the oven cornbread or rolls or biscuits an inch high slathered with all good things. Today I decided to be different. I made a cold vegetable salad I found in a magazine, so I tweaked it to suit my own palette by adding some heat and it turned out so good I just have to share it with you. Try it and let me know what you think. I served it with my knock-off version of Marie Callendar's portobello hamburger. The recipe for that is at "Ah, Bella, How I Love Thee."

EASY AUTUMN SALAD

Into a small bowl put:

1 tsp. Buttermilk Ranch Dressing Mix

1/2 tsp. dill weed

1 tsp. water

Stir together and let it stand for five minutes.

In another small bowl mix together:

2 Tbs. vegan mayonaisse

2 Tbs. soy buttermilk (I made my own by mixing a dash of vinegar with my regular soy milk and letting it sit till it curdled.)

Mix well. Set aside.

Into a large bowl place:

1 1/2 cups fresh corn (I used frozen, uncooked)

1 cup peas and carrots frozen mix, thawed, then blanched for two minutes and cooled.)

1 tomato, seeded and cut into small pieces

1/2 cup green pepper, small dice

1/2 cup cucumber, small dice

1/2 cup red onion, small dice

Pinch of red pepper flakes
Pinch of cayenne

1 tsp. salt

1/2 tsp. pepper

Mix the Ranch Dressing and Buttermilk mixture together, then pour over the vegetables. Stir to blend. Let sit in the refrigerator, covered, at least an hour. Several hours is better. Stir occasionally to keep the ingredients mixed with the dressing. Serve cold.

6 servings.

Chilly Enough For Chili

Okay, okay, okay, so maybe it didn't snow,
maybe it just felt like it was going to. Do
you buy that?

Even Southern California gets cold. Stop laughing. Believe me, when your blood gets as thin as ours does, what with living in a temperate clime, when that thermometer hits sixty something, it's time to turn on the furnace and put on another sweater. Now add pouring rain into the mix, skies as dark as dusk, and clouds hovering low, and you have perfect chili weather. Just like today.

Wouldn't you know, my favorite recipe for this thick, watch a spoon stand up in the middle of the bowl, concoction isn't vegan. Yet I wondered if I could change things around a bit, delete a  little of that and add some of this. So I gave it a try. Doggone, it's every bit as good as my non-vegan recipe. I kid you not. I served the heady mixture in big, steamy bowls and sprinkled the top with vegan sour cream, minced green onions and Daiya cheese shreds. Corn muffins hot from the oven were my only side. I ate two. Since I was now too full  to move, I rolled myself into the living room, covered up with a favorite afghan, and laid on the floor to watch the Movie Channel.

Life doesn't get any better than that.

Vegan Chili for Chilly Weather

No vegan sour cream left for this photo-op.
We used it all during the actual eating.

Into a soup pot put:

2 Tbs. oil

1 medium onion, chopped

2 garlic cloves, minced

1 small jalapeno, minced, seeds and ribs removed

Cook until the onions are translucent, about five minutes.

Add to the pot:

1 14 oz. can red beans, drained and rinsed

1 14 oz. can pinto beans, drained and rinsed

1 28 oz. can diced tomatoes, with juice

1/4 cup vegetable stock

1 tsp. cumin seeds

1 tsp. paprika

2 Tbs. chili powder

1 tsp. dried oregano

2 bay leaves

1/2 tsp. allspice

1/8 tsp. cayenne pepper

1 tsp. onion powder

1 tsp. garlic powder

pinch of cloves

salt and pepper to taste

Cook everything together over medium heat. When the mixture comes to a boil, turn it to low, cover, and let simmer for at least 30 minutes for the flavors to blend. I let mine simmer an hour. If the chili is too soupy, remove the lid and continue cooking till the mixture thickens to your liking.

Serve with vegan sour cream, minced green onions, and vegan cheese shreds.

Yummy.

Perhaps I ought to warn you that this is a spicy chili. It won't make your mouth burn to eat it, but it you don't like any heat at all, leave out the jalapeno and the cayenne pepper. But be warned! You'll be turning a GREAT chili into a mediocre one.

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.

  

Fajita Fiesta--Baby Bella Style

I love fajitas. I especially like ordering them in a restaurant because the food comes to the table on a cast iron plate that sizzles all the way from the kitchen to my table. I know that for sure. I've heard it sizzle time and again.

But woe is me. Now I'm a vegan and sticking to it. Not only has the intestinal disease I've battled for at least 15 years subsided, but I've lost 45 pounds in the process. In addition, my 70+ year-old skin has never looked fresher or dewier. People who have known me for a long time stop and look, then look again, then just plain stare. One of my doctors told me I looked like a whole different person. Another doctor told me that obviously the vegan diet was just what I needed. Acquaintances not only stare but outright ask me what I've done to myself.

When I tell them I've given up eating meat or dairy, they grimace like I've just forced a lemon down their throat. Then they insist they love meat and cheese so much they could never give it up. I just smile. I refuse to argue the points of being vegan. After all, I was an omnivoure all my life till recently. And I'm still not a dedicated vegan, for I wear leather shoes and carry a leather bag. Yet healthwise, I'm in far better shape than I was in my younger years. Last week a long-time friend insisted she would never become vegan because she liked her fried foods and sauces and butter too much. My sister said she liked steak and fish and couldn't even think about going without. My neighbor suggested being vegan was too expensive and she didn't know any vegan recipes anyway.

Now mind you, I'm not the one bringing this vegan business up in conversation. It just happens when I mention that I'm now a plant eater. I'll be honest and say it was hard to make the change. I had no idea how to put a meal together that would satisfy and nourish me. But I learned by scouring the net for vegan blogs and websites and Googling "vegan recipes" till my fingerprints no longer existed. I've learned how to make my own vegan dishes and gotten good enough to create some new ones. All this from a person who really hates to cook. Figure that one out.

As I was saying, I was in the mood for fajitas so I took my favorite chicken fajita recipe and tweaked it. Then I had the nerve to serve it to guests--all without first tasting it myself. By the raves I got, I guess everyone liked it. I know I sure did. Let me know what you think.

My recipe made four overstuffed fajitas. I served home made refried beans alongside and then had to roll into bed because I was too stuffed to walk.

FAJITA FIESTA

Use a resealable plastic bag for the marinade and put into it:

1 pound mushrooms, sliced. I used baby portobellos

2 Tbs. neutral vegetable oil

2 Tbs. lemon juice

1 garlic clove, minced

1 tsp. ground cumin

1 tsp. garlic powder

1 tsp. onion powder

1/4 tsp. red pepper flakes
Dash of hot sauce, I used Frank's

Salt

Black pepper

Let set for at least 20 minutes.

Preheat a large cast iron skillet until it is sizzling hot.

Add 2 Tbs. oil

1 medium onion, chopped

1 red  bell pepper, sliced

1 green bell pepper, sliced--I used a fresh jalapeno

Cook till the vegetables are translucent.

Add the marinade ingredients to the skillet and fry everything together, still at a high heat so you get that sizzle.Stir fry till all the liquid evaporates.

Warm 4 flour tortillas in the oven or the microwave.

Stuff 1/4 of the fajita mix into each tortilla.

Top with chopped cilantro, guacamole, a drizzle of lime, red salsa, vegan sour cream, and vegan yellow cheese, shredded.

As a side, serve refried beans or red rice or a bean/corn salsa. 

Enjoy!

Posole--Mexico In A Bowl

Try this authentic
Mexican recipe and I
bet you'll feel like
dancing too.

I've told you before that I have a housekeeper who comes to help me every week, largely because osteoporosis and arthritis in my spine have made it incredibly difficult to walk. Every so often I take advantage of her cooking skills and ask if she'll create something wonderful for my supper. She always agrees.

Because she's seen me grow so slim and healthy by eating vegan, she has done the same thing and while she's lost weight, it is her teenage daughter who has really slimmed down. All by eating vegan with only a few exceptions, such as family parties or church picnics.

To be honest, I've never eaten Posole. Yet I knew if Irma cooked it, it would be great. She grew up in Mexico City, taught to cook by her mom, and knows how to make original Mexican food that teases the tongue with spice and tickles the back of the throat with heat. Because I'm a sissy, she doesn't make the food she cooks for me as spicy as she would for her own family. If you're a diehard heat fan, add more chili powder and some jalapenos when you make this dish. I like it as is. Give it a try and let me know what you think.

POSOLE--MEXICO IN A BOWL

In a large soup pot, combine:

2 Tbs. olive oil

1 large onion, chopped

4 garlic cloves, minced

1 large poblano chile, chopped (sometimes called pasilla)

Cook until the vegetables are soft and the onion is translucent, about 8-10 minutes.

Add:

1 tsp. ground cumin

1 1/2 tsp. dried oregano

2 tsp. ancho chile powder (regular chile powder can be substituted)

1  24 oz. can of diced tomatoes with juice

1  15 oz. can of pinto beans, drained and rinsed

1  15 oz. can of white hominy, drained and rinsed

1 cup vegetable broth

1 tsp. salt

1 Tbs. lime juice

1 Tbs. browning sauce--I used Kitchen Bouquet

black pepper to taste

Simmer the soup on a back burner, uncovered, for at least an hour so  the flavors have time to marry. 

Serve piping hot with avacodo slices and fresh cilantro as garnishes.

Irma warmed flour tortillas over an open flame so they had a slightly charred taste, which went great with the posole. 

The whole masterpiece was good to the last drop.

If you don't have ancho chile powder, do yourself a favor and buy some. The depth of flavor this spice brings to the party is so much more than that of regular chile powder.

Okra--Outcast Of The Veggie World

Say the word "okra" in any group setting and chances are, the majority of the people will either turn up their noses while uttering a yukky sound or outright comment that the vegetable in question isn't worth consideration. Unless those people are from the South. They've eaten it all their lives and they like it. Most of us can't figure out why.

As for me, I've never been able to get past the slime. I've tried okra on occasion, but the feel of that gelatinous liquid going down my throat always made me want to gag. So when my friend Ann asked me if I'd like some jars of her pickled okra, I politely thanked her and said no. She wouldn't let it go at that. "Why don't you like okra?" she asked. So I had to tell her. After all, she was a near and dear pal of mine. She had a huge garden and grew all her own vegetables. She had so much okra she'd taken to putting it up in jars.

"Okra pickles aren't slimy," she informed me. I think you'd like them. She sent me off with three jars and dared me to give them a try. I was lucky to get any of those incredibly crunchy pickles because once the rest of the family discovered them, they disappeared nearly overnight. All three jars.

And guess what? Not one bit of slime anywhere. In fact, the pickles were so addicting, I contacted her for the recipe so I could pass it onto you. If you have never liked this outcast vegetable, these pickles will change your mind, just as it did mine. If you are an okra lover, you'll enjoy this simple vegetable as the delicious commodity it can be.

What my friend knew and I didn't is that it is the cutting that releases the slime. Fried whole, roasted whole, or pickled whole and there is no yukkiness involved. If you're one of those okra haters, as I was, give this easy recipe a try. My guess is you'll come to love okra as much as I do--especially pickled.

What you will need:

2 pint-size canning jars that have been sterilized in boiling water and are still hot to the touch.
1 pound of fresh, firm okra with pods no longer than 3 inches
Dill seed
Apple cider vinegar
Water
Salt, either pickling or non-iodized

(If you choose to use larger jars, remember to increase the pickling liquid accordingly.)

Wash the okra and cut the small stems off the top. Do not cut into the okra or you'll release the slime factor.

Place the pods in the jars, crowding them a bit. This is easier if some of the pods go in upside down.

Sprinkle 1 tsp. dill seed into each jar
Sprinkle 1/2 tsp. mustard seed into jar (optional)

In a saucepan, bring to a hard boil:

1 cup apple cider vinegar
1 cup water
1 Tbsp. salt without iodine

Pour the boiling liquid over the okra, covering the pods but leaving 1/4" headroom in the jar itself.

With a clean, damp towel, wipe the rim of each jar, making sure it is clean and dry. Place the lids on the jars and seal tightly with the rings.

Allow the jars to sit out overnight to completely cool. Test the lid to make sure the jar has sealed. Push in the center of the lid, if there is no give, the lid has sealed and you can move the pickles into a cupboard.

Canning jars, lids, and rings must be sterile. If you aren't sure how to sterilize them, see the instructions on my previous blog, You Can Can Summer's Bounty.

My friend Ann told me she made only a few jars at a time, as the okra ripened in her garden. If you want to make a larger batch, double or triple the recipe.

Optional Add-ins:

celery seed, garlic cloves, small dried red chiles, whole pepper corns.

Personally, I thought the pickles were fantastic as they were. But don't be afraid to experiment if you'd like them spicier.

A Seedy Tale

It's just about everyone's favorite snack. But it's also a flower, a vegetable, a clothing dye, an ointment, and a snake bite remedy. It can grow to 20 feet high and produce a flower 2 feet in diameter. It has a brown center that's packed with seeds. What is it?

If you guessed Sunflower, you're right. Although the plant is native to North America, it is now grown all around the world. The seeds are large, sprout easily, and do their best when sown directly in a hot, sunny spot.

The resultant plant does well in nearly any kind of soil, fends for itself during drought, and seldom has disease or insect problems. The large, yellow flowerhead with its center of brown seeds numbering in the hundreds is attractive to birds, squirrels, mice, and any other seed-eating critter poking around the garden--including man.

It's the seeds that man and beast fight over. They are miniature power houses packed with unsaturated fats, protein, fiber, vitamin E, copper, zinc, selenium and high in magnesium and contain absolutely no cholesterol. The seeds are considered to be a great energy source and according to nutritionists, a single handful will temporarily satisfy a person's hunger.

One year when my kids were quite young, I bought a pack of sunflower seeds and sent them out to the garden to plant them wherever they wished. Weeks later, I began noticing sunflowers sprouting all around the house. I suspected more than a few seeds had been dropped on their way to the garden, even though the kids claimed only to have planted them where they'd been told.

Almost overnight I was awash in gangly green plants that hovered over everything else in the yard, and looked more like scrawny scarecrows with bright yellow heads than the prim plantings one would expect in a suburban home. It didn't take the birds long to begin noticing the seed-maturing stage. They checked daily to see how things were progressing, but no more than did my own kids who thought the minute the flower appeared it was time to cut it off and eat the seeds.

It was a daily ritual to check the seed production and I tired of the game way too soon. At my wit's end with all the begging to get the seeds into their stomachs, I finally gave in and cut the flowerheads off.

We were supposed to let them dry for at least a week but the kids wouldn't hear of it. So I spread newspapers on the kitchen table and let them have at it. We had seeds and fluff and a general mess all over the kitchen, but once the seeds were pretty much separated out, we gave them a good rinse and laid them on a cookie sheet.

I sprayed them with salt and olive oil and roasted them to a golden brown. They were crispy and nutty and doggone addicting. All 4 dozen of them. I had told the kids it was too soon to pick them. Sometimes a visual lesson is a better teacher than any verbal argument.

Sunflower, Cranberry & Oat Granola Bars

1 1/2 cups quick oatmeal

3/4 cup sunflower kernels, roasted and salted

1/2 cup coconut

1/2 cup dried cranberries

1/4 cup toasted wheat germ

1/4 cup whole-wheat flour

1/4 tsp. cinnamon

1/4 tsp. nutmeg

1/3 cup vegetable oil

1/3 cup packed brown sugar

1/3 cup agave nectar

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Put all the dry ingredients into a large bowl. Stir to combine and set aside.

Mix the vegetable oil, brown sugar and agave nectar and bring to a boil over medium heat. Pour over the dry ingredients and stir till everything is well coated. Press the mixture into a greased 8x8x2 inch square baking pan. Sprinkle with additional sunflower seeds and coconut if desired. Bake 25-30 minutes or until slightly browned around the edges. Remove from oven. While the bars are still warm, press the surface gently with the back of a spoon to flatten them. Score into bars with a knife. Let cool completely.  Makes 24 bars that are easy to carry in a purse, pocket, or briefcase.


Copyright 2011 by Sandra L Keith, All rights reserved

Kabocha--The Ugly Squash You'll Love To Eat



By the time this plot of squash was finished spreading its tentacles, it covered half of my small backyard and part of a sidewalk leading to the gate. Squash blossoms were prolific and so was the resultant fruit. My biggest surprise was that of the two seeds that had sprouted, there were two varieties. I ended up with more kabocha than acorn and if you read the story, you'll find out why.

My summer garden flourishes. I have tomatoes and onions ready to eat and herbs aplenty for seasoning. What I thought was an acorn squash plot (Acorn Squash or Pod People) turned out to be a surprising mix of  both acorn and kabocha squash. Heavy on the kabocha. As it turns out, the nocturnal critters that live in the huge canyon across the street have a real taste for acorn squash. Out of all the fruit that set, I harvested only four. And while they were large specimens crammed with more flesh than any I've ever purchased at the grocery store, I'm still pouting that the raccoons and possums got to dine so regally on my supposed winter stash. Just so you know, I'm working on being thankful that at least the kaboacha survived the midnight raids, probably because of its hard, thick shell. Thank God for small miracles.

The squash plants spread out across my grass, rooting wherever a runner touched the soil. I decided to ignore its ability to take over the yard, more interested in seeing how many squash I'd harvest. If my property hadn't been invaded by furry thieves, I'd have at least a dozen more acorn squash than I do.

My dad always grew Hubbard squash when we lived in Minnesota. My sisters and I loved the smooth, sweet flesh, which mom baked and then whipped with butter and cream till it looked like orange mashed potatoes, but with more flavor. Once I began keeping my own home, I began searching the stores for Hubbard squash. Alas, in more than 50 years I never found it in any grocery store or farmer's market. Then came the day I gathered up my courage and complained to a produce manager about the lack of my favorite winter vegetable. He smiled and handed me a kaboacha. "This is as close to a Hubbard as you'll get around here," he said. Reluctantly, I took one of the ugly squashes home, cut it in half, removed the seeds and baked it in the oven. I was hooked.



When these large squashes began appearing, I wasn't sure what they were. It took me a while to figure out they were kabochas, also known as the Japanese pumpkins. The fruit is attractive when it's immature, but once ready for harvest, the outer shell becomes a blackish green, mottled, and bumpy. Not the beauty you'd gravitate towards in the grocery store, but trust me, if you like winter squash, you'll love this one.

 If you're unfamiliar with this particular winter squash, give it a try. The flesh is dark orange, dense, sweet, and teases the palette with a hint of nuttiness. I've eaten it roasted, whipped, stuffed and steamed. Roasted is my favorite, followed by stuffed with a mixture of sausage and rice. You can find all manner of recipes via Google. Or you can use my tried and true family recipe. And even though my mom used Hubbard, the kabocha is a near-perfect substitution. Just proves the old adage that you can't tell a book by its cover. (Ewww, pretend I didn't say that.)

ROASTED KABOCHA SQUASH

Cut the squash in half, scoop out the seeds, and lay the squash cut side down on a baking sheet. Roast at 375 degrees for 30-45 minutes, depending on the size. This particular squash tends to be dense. It is done when you can pierce the flesh easily with a skewer or a long, thin knife. Be careful not to overcook or the flesh will be too dry.

About 10 minutes before serving, turn the squash over and put 2 Tbs. of  brown sugar, a pinch of cinnamon and a light grating of fresh nutmeg into the center well. I always add a bit of butter but you can use vegan margarine if you choose. Return it to the oven long enough to melt the toppings--about 5 minutes. Serves 4.

 Kabocha squash is heavy for its size, with most weighing 3-5 pounds. Kabocha is low in carbohydrates, high in fiber, and an excellent source of beta-carotene. One serving  provides 70 percent of a day's recommended requirements. Both squash varieties were easy to grow. I did nothing except water once in a while. Both plants spread out across the grass but didn't kill it. Worked so well I'll do it again next year. This photo shows some of my kabocha and my last two acorn.

Copyright 2011 by Sandra L Keith, All rights reserved

Photos are the property of the author and may not be reproduced

Summer In A Bowl

With summer's plethora of fresh vegetables, vegans are always on the hunt for additional ways to use them. However, you don't have to be vegan to enjoy this week's recipe. It's so good even veggie haters will like it.

I hate to cook. I hate it when the weather is cold and when the weather is hot. Particularly when it's hot. And while being in the kitchen is the ultimate happiness for some, it is the bane of my existence that food needs to be prepared at all. No matter what my feelings on the subject, the truth is I'm an excellent cook. I figure it this way: if it has to be done, it better be worth remembering.

I've heard many a friend or television cook claim that their food was prepared with love and that's why it tastes so good. That statement is beyond my ability to fathom. Prepared with love? My food is plopped into a pan or oven or crock pot with great impatience, praying it will cook itself so I can ignore it till serving time. I also hear some chefs claim that food is sexy? Now that one really passes me by. I've never known anyone who got hot and bothered just looking at a bowl of soup or a plate of tofu. Utter nonsense.

Food is food and whether it tastes good or not, it will fill our stomachs and fuel our bodies. That is its purpose. Too often our pesky taste buds get in the way. And we all know what happens when that's the case. Ever notice a baby being fed peas? In the mouth; out of the mouth. My daughter was like that. I honestly believe she was born hating peas. No matter how often I tried getting them into her tummy, they'd make the "baby-food loop" and come right back out on the tip of the tiniest tongue I'd ever seen.

Perhaps it was during those days as wife and mother that I determined to make my food so good no one would ever spit it out or send it to the trash can. And while my oldest child loved vegetables of all sorts, my daughter was as picky as they come. The one saving grace was that she adored beets, eating them with seeming relish. Beets became my hiding place for the other things she needed but wouldn't swallow--like green beans and all baby-jarred meats.

All of that history to say that in my kitchen, food has to be easy to prepare and taste so good that even those who think they hate vegan offerings will love it. As I did last week, I'm passing onto you a family recipe that's been around so long I honestly have no idea where it came from. It was a staple on my mom's table every summer and it's long been a favorite on my table. My mom used whatever was ripe in the garden; I use whatever is in the frig that looks cold and crunchy. Happy chomping.

MARINATED VEGETABLES PAR EXCELLENCE

Make the marinade:

1/3 cup high quality extra virgin olive oil 

3 Tbs. Japanese seasoned rice wine vinegar

1/2 tsp. basil

1/4 tsp. dry mustard

1/4 tsp. ground cumin

1/4 tsp. crushed garlic

1/8 tsp. black pepper

Whisk everything together and set aside.

Prepare the vegetables:

1 medium red onion, sliced thin

3 cups of thin sliced zucchini

3 large tomatoes, peeled, seeded, and sliced thin.

Pour the marinade over the vegetables and mix well. It will look like there isn't enough marinade. Don't be fooled. Juice will come out of the vegetables and mingle their own flavors with the marinade. Cover well with plastic wrap. Allow to sit at least two hours. Overnight is better. Easy dish to make ahead.

When I make this salad, I use shredded carrots, diced celery, diced cucumber, sliced radishes, diced green onions--white and green parts, broccoli cut into tiny florets, and if there is leftover fresh cabbage, I'll slice it thin and throw it into the mix. I also toss in a diced and seeded jalapeno or two, depending on how hot they are. Since I don't care for raw zucchini, I substitute the veggies I do like and if I want this salad to fare well for a couple of days, I leave out the fresh tomatoes and use diced red peppers instead. The peppers will remain crisp while the tomatoes turn to mush. 

As long as you keep the ratio of marinade to vegetable mixture accurate, you can make a small batch to a giant batch and use any combination you wish. This summer salad keeps well and I use it as a stand alone salad or atop a veggie burger or tofu dog or black bean taco. My guess is you can find other ways to use it that I haven't thought of.

If you substitute any other vinegar for the Japanese seasoned rice wine vinegar, you will need to add sugar to cut the marinade's acidity. If you choose this route, add honey or sugar to taste, but why not splurge and buy the preferred vinegar. It's not that costly and the taste if worth it.

This summer salad is good just the way it is but if you like a bit of spice, toss in some jalapenos or Serrano peppers. Just remember to remove the seeds and ribs as that is where most of the heat hides.

Copyright 2011 by Sandra L Keith, All rights reserved

Roasted Vegetables, Farfalle, and Vodka Sauce

Although this recipe seems complicated, it isn't. It's comprised of only three elements. Roast the veggies, which can be done ahead if you wish; make the vodka sauce, which can also be done ahead of time; assemble the main ingredients while you cook the pasta and then combine the whole thing into one great meal. 

I went a little crazy this week. My local health food market had such great prices on vegetables, I bought way too many. I mean, there sat these large red, yellow, and green bell peppers at 3 for $1.00. Mixed or matched. I couldn't resist and put two of each color in my basket. The market also had portabella mushroom caps, palm-sized, at 3 for $1.99. Who would pass up a deal like that? I came home with 6. The list of good buys goes on and on. Do any of you know what I'm talking about?

Of course the day rolled around when a peek into the Frig told me I'd better use up what was left while everything still looked appealing. Next thing I knew, I was creating another mystery dish. Vegan, of course. Since I've always loved Pasta Primivera, I thought I'd model my dish after that. Imagine my surprise when it turned out better than it's role-model. Does that mean I'm a master chef hiding in grandma clothes? No. It means I poured a vodka sauce over the whole thing in an effort to ramp up the flavor. It was an inspired decision. Give it a try. I bet you'll like it.

ROASTED VEGETABLES, FARFALLE, AND VODKA SAUCE

Roast your vegetables. I used red, yellow, and green bell peppers, tomatoes, onions and portobello mushrooms. Cut the vegetables into sections, spread them on a cookie sheet, drizzle with a bit of olive oil, salt and pepper. Roast at 450 degrees for 20 minutes. Do not cut the vegetables into tiny pieces as they will burn and have to be thrown out. You can roast any amount of veggies on hand. At my house, leftover veggies are used in many ways.

Prepare the vodka sauce

2 Tbs. olive oil
2 Tbs. vegan butter or margarine
1 cup canned crushed tomatoes (I buzzed mine in the food processor as I wanted a smooth sauce)
1/2 cup soy milk or soy cream
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. pepper
1/3 cup vodka

In a large skillet, heal the oil and butter. Add the crushed tomatoes, cream, salt, and pepper. Cook for a minute or so, stirring once in a while. Add the vodka and continue cooking on low for about 5 minutes. Because I like thick sauces without the addition of flour, etc. I let the sauce cook down on a simmer burner until it was the consistency I wanted.

Fill a pasta pot with water and bring to a boil. In the meantime,


Assemble the vegetables
2 cups roasted vegetables, cut into small pieces. 

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 box frozen peas, thawed but not cooked

8 oz extra firm tofu, cut into small pieces. I used tofu with herbs. It's become my favorite.

2 Tbs. olive oil

1/2 tsp. Italian seasoning

salt and pepper to taste. Remember the roasted veggies have already been seasoned.

Put the oil in a large skillet with the minced garlic. Saute on low for a minute. Do not burn the garlic or you'll have to start over.

Add the tofu to the pan, stir until the it browns a bit. Add the roasted vegetables, seasoning, and salt and pepper. Saute everything until the flavors marry. Add the thawed peas and continue cooking on low until the peas are warmed though. The peas pop in your mouth as you eat, making them a welcome addition to the roasted vegetables. Canned peas will not perform the same as frozen ones. 

Drop 8 oz. farfalle into the pasta pot. DO NOT forget to add salt to the water or your pasta will be tasteless. Cook the pasta until almost al dente. It will finish cooking in the vegetable medley.  Drain the pasta, reserving a cup or so of the cooking water, and add directly to the roasted vegetable mix. Cook everything together for approximately 2 minutes. If the veggie-pasta mix seems too dry, add just a bit of the reserved pasta water and continue cooking. Pour the vodka sauce over the pasta-vegetable mix and gently stir everything together, being careful not to tear the farfalle.

Bow ties you can eat rather than wear? Who knew? Obviously, the Italians did. They named the bowtie shape, "farfalla," which means butterfly. The more common name in this country is farfalle and is commonly called bowtie.