This Spud's For You!

I seldom eat potatoes. I grew up eating them at nearly every meal, but once I was doing my own cooking, I discovered I much preferred rice or grains or pasta. Even so, there come times when I yearn for a giant baked potato, burst open to expose its fluffy, white interior and then stuffed with all manner of tantalizing delicacies. Since the usual trappings of butter and sour cream were out of the picture, I wondered if I could even create something akin to all that non-vegan goodness.

Then came the day I looked into the refrigerator to find a bevy of vegetables that needed to be used. I tossed them on a large sheet pan, drizzled them with olive oil, salt and pepper, and put them in the oven. My plan was to make pasta primivera. But then I had this off the wall idea: why not make potato primivera? Figuring it might be a tasty solution to my stuffed potato quest, I tossed a well-scrubbed Idaho spud into the oven with the veggies. Hey, what could it hurt?

While I was waiting for everything to get done, I made my usual vegan bechamel sauce. Once the vegetables were roasted, I tossed them into the sauce, along with a few dashes of cayenne pepper and a couple drops of hot sauce, and then I poured all that creamy goodness into the potato and atop and then let it run down the sides. I sprinkled it all with fresh chives. Doggone, it sure looked inviting. But would it taste good?  Give it a try and let me know what you think. Far as I was concerned, it was the best stuffed potato I ever ate.

My stuffed spud turned out great but wouldn't you know, the battery in my camera is dead, so no pix because I ate all the evidence while I waited for it to recharge. I guess you'll just have to imagine how it looked. Of course you know what I have to do now. Make it again so I can take a photo. Life is hard.


STUFFED SPUD 

What You'll Need:

Baking potatoes, large

Vegetable medley, roasted

Vegan Bechamel sauce


The following recipe makes enough sauce for 2-3 large potatoes. If you cook for one, as I do, you'll have enough left to use in another recipe.

2 cups roasted vegetables. I used zucchini, yellow squash, onion, tomatoes, carrots, bell pepper, and garlic. I cut them in pieces, tossed them with olive oil, salt and pepper, and fresh thyme and rosemary and spread them on a baking sheet. Roast at 400 for 20-30 minutes. When cool enough to handle, cut the vegetables into small pieces so they'll fit into the baked potato easily.

Make the bechamel sauce while the veggies are roasting. You'll find the recipe in my post called Seitan, Onion, and Mushroom Pasta, which I posted on 7/29/11.

Stir the roasted vegetables into the creamy white sauce, give a stir to marry the flavors and add a bit of cayenne and hot sauce if you like things spicy. Stuff the results into a fluffy hot potato.

It doesn't get better than this.

Play With Your Food

TV is my muse; my creative inspiration. When I'm relaxing at the end of the day the Food Network offers me just what I want. I tape the shows that teach food chemistry and cooking techniques. I'm entertained by food challenges: cupcakes wars, master chef, iron chef. Not so much the kitchen dramas. When pans begin to crash to the floor and tempers run hot, I turn the muse off.

The stars of food TV are the guys and gals that can smell and taste and adjust to create a culinary masterpiece. That's what I aspire to. When I'm in my kitchen, I put on my superhero apron and do my best to be them.

For a couple of weeks I have been struggling to make a rice ball that is flavorful, doesn't fall apart and entices a 6 year old. It has to be gluten free and vegan. It has to be colorful. It has to be crispy on the outside. It has to be delicious hot or cold. And it can't cause indigestion like the batch I made with onions and spinach. I think it might have been the onions.

Inspired Rice Balls

(play with the recipe - change up the herb or the veggies and please, let me know your results)

mix together in a 1 quart bowl:

1 cup cooked short grain brown rice

1/2 cup quinoa flakes

1/4 tsp salt

1/4 tsp pepper

2 tablespoons chopped parsley

whisk together in a small bowl:

1 tablespoon flax meal

3 tablespoons water

let this sit for a couple of minutes - this is the egg that will hold things together

then add this to the bowl and mix well: 

2 tablespoons shredded carrot

2 tablespoons shredded baby zucchini

add the contents of the small bowl to the contents of the larger bowl and mix well with your hands.

it should be sticky

when well mixed, form into balls about 1 inch in diameter

it helps to have clean but wet hands when you do the ball forming

fry, browning on all sides, in hot canola oil in frying pan

if you use a 10-12 inch frying pan they will all fit without crowding

Inspired Rice Balls are only OK. I haven't thrilled the 6 year old. I think I'll invite her into the kitchen for a cooking play date. I'll fix up a mystery box -  she'll open the box and find everything she needs to make a rice ball except the vegetable and the spices. I'll have her go to the refrigerator and the herb garden to select her favorites. If I get it on film, I'll share it with you later. Child's play can lead to a life of healthy eating.

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

A Spicy Story



My family's generations of cooks, both good and bad. From left to right: my mom, great grandma, my son, grandma, and me. I only remember one time visiting my great grandma and eating at her house. If there were other times, I've obviously wiped them frrom my mind. What I do recall is tasteless food and an old lady who was grumpy about everything. My grandma was a fun person; she just couldn't cook. Mom was the best cook I ever knew and taught me how to set a proper table and prepare a well-balanced meal that was all hot at the same time. To this day, my son is nearly a better cook than I am, except that he enjoys it and I don't.

 I don't know who taught my mom to cook but it certainly wasn't her mother. Don't get me wrong. My sisters and I adored our maternal grandparents, spending every minute we could at their house during holidays and summer vacations. I never quite figured out how they raised four girls on what grandma knew how to cook but since they all turned out fine and lived long lives, I'm guessing it was sufficient for a good start in life.

I wouldn't say grandma's food was bad. It was bland. I wouldn't say it was undercooked. It was shoe leather. I wouldn't say the vegetables were too crispy. They were soggy to the point of being  unrecognizable. It took me years to figure out why grandma's food was eaten only to keep a body alive while mom's offerings got scarfed down with great speed and often argued over. You know, just in case one of we three siblings had snuck in an extra piece of her breaded eggplant or corn on the cob dripping with real butter. (No margarine in those days.)

As I remember, it was along about junior high when it dawned on me why grandma's food was only utilitarian while mom's was a feast. Grandma used salt and pepper and a lot of lard for frying. Mom mostly roasted or braised, and her culinary productions were always covered with so many herbs and spices that the cans they came from took up two shelves in her cupboard. Not skinny shelves either. Double deep ones that held a plethora of offerings stretching into the cupboard's dark corners. Grandma's kitchen smelled of hot grease; mom's kitchen scented the whole house, enticing our senses with expectations of what was to come. None of us ever cared if the pork roast was covered with rosemary, sage, and thyme. Nor did we say anything about the garden carrots flecked with ginger-butter. Or the swiss chard, wilted to perfection and sprinkled with a bit of salty vinegar. We just smacked out lips and ate it all.

Thank God I learned to cook like mom. As a new bride, I tossed the usual spices into my cart.   Cinnamon, nutmeg, oregano, thyme, and basil. Overtime I added marjoram, celery seed, cumin, and dill. As my recipe file grew bigger, I purchased cayenne pepper, ginger, and paprika. By the time I'd been married 50 years, I owned close to 100 herbs and spices. The ones I used the most were in regular size bottles; the least in small ones. Along the way, I've made some errors. I have at least 3 cans of poultry seasoning. I generally use it only at Thanksgiving and never seem to remember if I still have any in the cupboard so I toss another one in my basket. I've been thinking about selling the unopened ones on E-Bay or Craigslist but never remember to advertise them.

While I've always considered herbs and spices mandatory in cooking, I never fully appreciated their use until a few days after returning home from this last hospital stay where my doctor had informed me that if I were ever to be rid of the intestinal disease I'd fought for so many years, I needed to eat vegan. With considerable doubt and trepidation, I embarked on tofu. Now pardon me if you love the stuff, but I considered it one step up from what goes in the garbage. It took me weeks to discover that tofu is only edible, and actually enjoyable, if it's dusted, covered, marinated, or breaded in all those tiny seeds and powders sitting in my cupboard. They have given me a whole new outlook on the culinary world.

Now-a-days, I can go to any country I choose and feast like a native. I can eat in Spain or Africa or Korea or Thailand or Greece or anywhere else I imagine. Cut up some tofu, stir fry some vegetables from the region, make a simple sauce with the spices from that country and serve it over rice or noodles or pasta. Slice a fresh pineapple or pears or kiwi, add fresh-grated nutmeg to soy yogurt along with a dash of fresh lemon and a bit of soy milk, pour it over the fruit and enjoy the bright, clean taste reminiscent of the Hawaiian Islands. (I can't take credit for that one; I was served it when Jim and I vacationed in Hawaii one summer.)

So let the adventure begin. Use the spices already on your shelves. If they're too old, use more than the recipe calls for and freshen them up by toasting them in a small dry pan for a few minutes. Then rub them between your palms to release their fragrance. New spices are best, but I won't toss any that are still usable. Too costly. If you want new ones, buy them on sale or do what I do and send for them. I'll tell you about that at the end of this blog. In the meantime, gather your cans and jars around the stove or where you cook and refresh your memory on what you already have. Light ruins spices, so mine are kept in the dark--but I know where each one is because I took time to write a big adhesive label and plop it atop each  jar. Then I separated the savory from the sweet. No more turning dozens of crowded jars to see what's inside. Hallalujah! I'm finally organized. Let the vegan feasts begin.

How fun would it be to find spices displayed as above and just purchase a palm-ful lof this and a fist-full of that? The spices would be truly fresh but wouldn't be so plentiful that I had to toss them before I used them up. I can imagine the scented air all around them. The smokiness of cumin, the intrigue of cinnamon, the smell of licorice coming from the anise. Perhaps I'd just take my choices home and use them as air freshners. If all you've ever purchased is grocery store products, you don't really know what fresh out of the garden herbs and spices smell or taste like.

For many years I searched for a way to buy herbs and spices that were better than those sold at my supermarket. Those bottles and cans have been sitting in a warehouse for a long time, maybe even years. Then one day the mailman delivered a spice catalogue from Penzeys. The prices were so much lower than the store, I just had to give them a try. I've been a happy camper ever since. If you're interested in truly amazing herbs and spices to flavor your once-a-week vegan meals or every regular meal you cook, check them out. You can also shop online, which is what I do, at http://www.penzeys.com/. Yes, you will pay shipping, but the products are so inexpensive, you'll still save money. Besides, every order brings a free bottle of spice--whatever they think you might like to try.

In lieu of a vegan recipe, I thought you, dear reader, might like some insight into making your once-a-week vegan experience something to remember and want to eat again. For me, if the food doesn't taste good, with real depth of flavor, I won't eat it. I can't be the only one who feels like that.


Copyright 2011 by Sandra L Keith, All rights reserved