Thanksgiving Hiccups

Even when it's just the two of us, Thanksgiving dinner takes time to prepare. I wanted to spend Thursday outside planting my winter vegetable garden, not inside cooking, so I was in the kitchen first thing doing what I could. I made the lentil loaf and the pie, and stirred together the dough for the dinner rolls so it could slow rise in the fridge all day. Maybe the early hour was responsible for the challenges I encountered in the kitchen.

My favorite Thanksgiving tradition is listening to Turkey Confidential on NPR from 9-11 a.m. Lynne Rossetto-Kasper fields calls from people across the country trying to get dinner on the table. Lynne is a masterful problem-solver. One caller had left the eggs out of her pumpkin pie filling and it wouldn't set. Lynne suggested turning it into a parfait - scooping the filling out of the pie crust and layering it in individual glasses with whipped cream. And of course telling the guests it was the latest dessert from Paris.

Lynne reminds us that the Thanksgivings people remember are the ones where there was a calamity. She said that no one talks about the time she gilded apples and pears with gold leaf, instead they laugh about the time she dropped the turkey on the floor.

I remembered this as I stumbled through my Thanksgiving cooking this year. My stand-by never-fail lentil loaf did not work. (Did you try it - did it work for you?) I guess I didn't cook the lentils long enough, because it did not hold together well. It was a lentil casserole, not a lentil loaf.

I baked an apple-pear pie with a rum crust from Diana Shaw's Vegetarian Entertaining. I baked the pie crust blind for a few minutes, using dried chickpeas as pie weights. When I took it from the oven, I tipped out the chickpeas and the whole crust slipped out with them, crumbling into pieces of partially-cooked dough. So much for pie. I poured the filling into the bare pie plate, covered it with the lattice top, and baked it.

I spent the day planting, and Larry and I met in the kitchen at 4:30 p.m. to put dinner together. When his pre-cooked turkey part came out of the oven, the rolls went in. I made calabacitas and mashed potatoes while Larry heated gravy and stirred together stuffing.

We had a good meal. The lentil loaf was a pile of lentils, but the calabacitas were a delicious sauce for it. The mashed potatoes rocked, and the rolls were light and fluffy.

By the time we'd eaten all this food, we had no room for dessert. The not-quite pie made an excellent breakfast the next morning.

PA cheese please

East Coast Trip Part 5

From Pittsburgh we drove northeast to Amish country. Near the town of Smicksburg we found a shop that sold cheese made from milk supplied by local Amish dairy farmers.

When I'm traveling, I love to try the local cheeses. Amish dairy farms don't use pesticides, chemical fertilizers or growth hormones, so their cheese fits right in with my organic philosophy.

Larry had picked up a flyer for an Amish cheese factory, but we found it had closed amidst rumors that the Englishers who opened it were ripping off the Amish.

We continued up the road and found B & B Country Cheese Shoppe, where they sell a wide variety of local cheese, respect the Amish, and are respected by them.

While we were at the cheese shop, a local farmer drove up in his buggy. Larry chatted with him and asked if he could take a picture of his buggy. You can see why.

Although we were spending nights at the homes of various friends and relatives, our days were spent on the road. Picnics of good bread, cheese and fruit made a great lunch. Way better than any of the fast food options on the Pennsylvania Turnpike.

One of the pleasures of a cheese shop is tasting before buying. And I tasted many varieties at B & B Cheese Shoppe. Because Smicksburg is near the Pennsylvania / Ohio border, the store sold cheese from Ohio Amish dairies like Heinis and Yancey Fancey as well as PA cheese. I bought some garden yogurt cheese (tangy) and spicy Buffalo Wing Hot Sauce Cheddar (way spicy!). I also picked up some fresh cheese curds - the kind that squeak when you chew them. They evoked fond memories of poutine in Montreal.

(If you're in Smicksburg, it's just a short jaunt to see Punxsutawney Phil, the weather-forecasting groundhog. We headed south instead.)

As usual, I bought more cheese than we needed. We learned to freeze water bottles in our hosts' freezers overnight to use as ice packs to keep our cheese cold.

The Amish cheese was delicious, and got us through to Philadelphia, where I found a health food store to re-stock. You can never have too much good cheese.

Bearing Vegetarian Dishes

When I am invited to a potluck, I take something filling that I will enjoy eating. I'm one of the few vegetarians I know in this low-carb town, and I find most gatherings serve animal protein and green salads. Although I enjoy salad, it is not a meal. Especially on these cold evenings.

So I take a filling vegetarian dish that I will enjoy. That way I eat well too.

To take pressure off the host, I take an entrée that needs no last-minute heating, because I don't know what demands there will be on the stove. I take my own serving plate and spoon, and carry everything in one bag that can be easily tucked out of the way.

This rice salad fits the bill, and it got great reviews at a potluck I went to in late October. The soy sauce and orange juice give it a rich flavor. To distract from the brown color (the downside of brown rice), I served it on a bed of romaine lettuce and garnished it with nasturtiums and violas from my garden.

You might consider this recipe as a side with your Thanksgiving dinner. You can make it a few hours ahead and let it sit at room temperature until it's time to eat.

Wild rice is a Native American food, so eating it is a way to honor the people who first cultivated this land.

Brown and Wild Rice Salad
Salad:
1/3 cup brown rice
1/3 cup wild rice
1/4 cup chopped red onion
1/2 cup cherry tomatoes, quartered
1/4 cup dried apricots, snipped small
1/2 cup chopped red pepper
3 tbsp chopped cilantro

Cook brown and wild rice together in 1-1/3 cups boiling water, lid covered, until the water is absorbed and the rice is tender - about 40 minutes.

Turn out into a bowl, toss with a fork, and stir in the remaining salad ingredients. Meanwhile, make the dressing:

Dressing:
1 tbsp minced fresh ginger
1 tbsp dijon
2 tbsp soy sauce
2-3 garlic cloves, minced
1/4 cup orange juice (from 1 juicy orange)
2 tbsp rice vinegar
3 tbsp toasted sesame oil

Combine all but sesame oil. Whisk in oil and add salt and pepper to taste.

Pour half the dressing over the salad. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Add dressing to achieve the consistency you like.

Serve the extra dressing on the side, or save it in the fridge to use on green salads.

Serves 4-6

Pierogi in Pittsburgh

East Coast Trip Part 4

From Washington, DC, we drove northwest to Pittsburgh, PA, to visit our friends Dave and Becky.

Dave and Larry were childhood friends who lost touch when Dave moved from eastern PA to western PA after grade 5. Last year, through the wonders of Google, they reconnected. And we made a point of seeing them on our east-coast tour.

They took us to a ball game at PNC Park, on the Allegheny River in Pittsburgh. The tickets were four rows behind home plate, and came with a pre-game buffet in the Home Plate Club.

For a vegetarian, it was a step up from Dodger Stadium. I had to search, but I found a mixed-greens salad and a beautiful heirloom tomato salad.

I filled out the meal with fettucine alfredo, and a token pierogi when I was assured that it was filled with potatoes and onions - no meat. Pierogi are Eastern European dumplings. They are a big deal in Pittsburgh.

What amused me most was the guys filling their plates with beef medallions and fettucine alfredo. No vegetables for them.

Outside in the stadium, young men swarmed Primanti Brothers, a Pittsburgh institution whose signature sandwich is grilled meat, coleslaw, tomato slices and french fries between two pieces of Italian bread. The story is that in the 1930s, busy truckers needed to be able to eat with one hand while driving.

During the 7th inning stretch, I watched giant pierogi race around the field.

It was a memorable trip to Pittsburgh.

Thanksgiving Dinner

This Thursday, vegetarians across America will be digging into Tofurkey.

Not I.

I don't want to eat turkey. Why would I want to eat fake turkey?

(Yes, I know the fowl in the picture are not turkeys - they're our neighbor's chickens. In this case, they are fake turkeys - tofurkeys!)

As I've mentioned before, I like the look of vegetables. If we were having company at Thanksgiving, I would serve a stuffed squash, or a vegetable pot pie, or a beautiful filo vegetable tart.

But it's just Larry and me this year. He's doing the Trader Joe's pre-cooked piece of turkey, stuffing and gravy. And I am going to make a lentil-nut loaf.

Like turkey, lentil-nut loaf makes great leftovers: cold in sandwiches; or patted into burger shapes, dusted with breadcrumbs, and fried. And the last piece will freeze well for a few weeks, quick to defrost for dinner.

This is one of my favorite loaf recipes, even though it's not baked in a loaf pan. It's light, with a nice crunch from the nuts, and good flavor from the mushrooms, tamari and fresh herbs. (You can use dried if necessary.)

The loaf can be made the day before and refrigerated. Reheat it, covered, in a 350° oven for 20 minutes until warmed through.

I'll serve it with mashed potatoes and calabacitas - a sauté of zucchini, corn, red peppers, jalapenos, and my favorite poblanos.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Lentil-Nut Loaf
1 1/4 lb green lentils
1/2 cup sliced mushrooms
1/2 cup diced onions
1/2 cup diced red and/or green peppers
1/2 cup fresh bread crumbs (1 slice bread)
1/2 tsp minced fresh basil
1/2 tsp minced fresh oregano
1/2 tsp minced fresh thyme
1/2 tsp chili powder
pepper to taste
1 tbsp tamari
2 egg whites, beaten to soft peaks
1 tsp salt
3/4 cup shredded jack cheese
1/2 cup chopped walnuts
1/4 cup water

Place lentils, mushrooms, onions, bell peppers and water to cover in a 4-quart saucepan. Bring to boil over medium-high heat, then reduce heat and simmer until tender, about 1 hour. Drain lentil mixture and cool slightly, 10 minutes.

Preheat oven to 350°F.

Place lentil mixture in large bowl and stir in remaining ingredients. Pour into lightly greased 9" square pyrex dish, spreading evenly.

Bake until lightly browned, about 30 minutes. Cool 15 minutes before cutting and serving with gravy or tomato sauce.

8-10 servings.

Postscript: Make sure to cook the lentils until they're very soft. Otherwise you'll end up with lentil casserole, not lentil loaf.

Keeping Healthy in Flu Season

During flu season, it is important to listen to your body: rest when needed, consume lots of vegetables and very little sugar, and eat a large amount of garlic.

Garlic has been known for centuries for its healing ability. Science documents its anti-biotic and anti-viral activity. This means it can kill not only flu bugs but also those cold viruses that don't respond to antibiotics.

I knew someone in Montreal who swallowed a peeled clove of garlic every night during winter. He never got sick.

But that's a little intense for me. I prefer to eat my garlic for dinner, and share it with my loved ones. (Garlic has to be shared.)

The other night we had this wonderful garlicky pasta. I've written before that different nutrients are absorbed in different ways. Some are better for us to consume raw. Others need to be broken down for our bodies to use, and others need to be cooked with a little fat. This recipe includes garlic in all these forms so we can absorb the wide variety of beneficial compounds that it contains.

There's also a good amount of barely-wilted spinach for vitamin C and minerals. I used the Malabar spinach from Finley Farms at the Hollywood Farmers Market, which holds its crispness but is sweeter than regular spinach. You could substitute bagged baby spinach. Don't forget the thyme -- it soothes inflammation of the respiratory system.

See Roasting Peppers for instructions on roasting and peeling the orange peppers. If this is too much work, use them raw but cook them a little longer. The chickpeas add some protein to help your body stay strong. Skip the parmesan for a vegan dish - but add more salt to taste.

Despite this nutritional analysis, this pasta dish tastes like comfort food, not health food.

Garlicky Pasta with Spinach
1 head of garlic (about 13 cloves)
1/2 tsp salt
2 orange or red bell peppers, roasted and peeled
1 tsp chopped fresh thyme (or 1/2 tsp dried)
1/4 lb spinach, washed and dried
1/2 bag penne
3 tsp olive oil
1/3 cup dry chickpeas, cooked (or 1 can drained)
3 tsp balsamic vinegar
2 tbsp parmesan

Separate and peel the cloves of garlic. Keep three aside and put the rest in a small pan with 1 cup cold water. Simmer, covered, until garlic is very soft, about 30 minutes. Purée the garlic and liquid in a blender with 1/2 tsp salt until smooth.

With a large knife, chop 1 reserved garlic clove with the thyme and 1/4 tsp salt. Place in a large serving bowl and put the spinach on top.

Cook pasta according to package directions.

Chop last 2 garlic cloves and cook in 3 tsp olive oil over moderate heat, stirring, until pale golden, 3-5 minutes. Add peppers, diced in 1/2 inch pieces, and cook, stirring, 3 minutes. Add chickpeas and garlic purée and bring to a simmer over moderate heat, stirring occasionally. Season with salt and pepper.

Drain pasta and add to serving bowl with chickpea sauce, vinegar and parmesan. Toss to combine. Serve immediately.

Serves 3-4

Amazing Okra

East Coast Trip Part 3

One of the great things about traveling is the opportunity to try new foods. Like pickled okra.

I had tried okra a couple of times, mainly in Indian food, and not enjoyed it. It's a texture thing. I find it slimy, like when I cook nopales (which I do very badly).

So when our friends Bill and Ramsay in Arlington, VA, encouraged me to try an okra pickle, I was dubious. Ramsay understood. She did not grow up eating okra either. Bill, who hails from New Orleans, introduced her to it. And she assured me that okra pickles are crunchy, not slimy.

Well, I will try anything vegetarian once, as long as no one is offended if I spit it out, so I tried an okra pickle. And it was good. Crunchy. Like a dill pickle.

I don't know how many health benefits are retained when okra is pickled, but even if it's just a few, it's worth eating. It helps the body cope with trans fats; it slows the absorption of sugar; it feeds the good bacteria in the intestines; it binds cholesterol; and in Kami, Japan, the elderly attribute their youthful appearance to it.

All the more reason to eat okra. I'm going to stick to the pickled version, which, here in Los Angeles, I'll probably have to make myself.

Mmmm Biscuits!

On Sunday morning I had a craving for scrambled eggs and biscuits.

There's nothing like a hot fluffy biscuit. On a plate with scrambled eggs, maybe spread with a little pomelo marmalade, it starts a weekend off right.

A healthier biscuit would be made with whole wheat flour. These are not. However, they're also not made with chemicals. And they are scrumptious.

This recipe comes from a book my mum gave me called Biscuits, Pancakes and Quick Breads by Beverly Cox.

If I was feeding teenage boys, I would use this book every day. Cox gives a recipe for biscuit mix that you store in the freezer (like you would store Bisquik in the cupboard) and then scoop out enough to make almost-instant biscuits, pizzas, cobblers, and everything else you can make with biscuit dough.

I have not stored it in the freezer, because we are two middle-aged people who should not eat biscuits on a regular basis.

Instead, I mix the butter and dry ingredients the night before, or in the morning before we go to the farmers market, and refrigerate it. When we get home I turn on the oven while I unpack the groceries. I put the tablespoon of butter in a small pyrex dish in the pre-heating oven to melt. Then I stir the liquid into the dry, pat the dough into a rectangle, cut it into rectangular biscuits (it's too early in the morning to mess with fancy shapes), and bake.

While the biscuits bake, I scramble the eggs and Larry squeezes the o.j. And then we have a feast.

(In the unlikely event you have leftover biscuits, store them at room temperature and re-heat them to eat with soup or for breakfast the next day.)

Fluffy Biscuits
1 3/4 cups unbleached white flour (I use Arrowhead Mills organic)
2 1/2 tsp aluminum-free baking powder (Bob's Red Mill or Rumford's)
1/2 tsp salt
3 tbsp unsalted butter
3 tbsp salted butter
1/2 cup whipping cream, plus up to 3 tbsp milk if needed
1 tbsp butter, melted

Sift flower, baking powder and salt together. Using a pastry blender or your fingertips, cut in the 6 tbsp butter. It should resemble large breadcrumbs with a few larger pieces of butter remaining. At this point it can be refrigerated (2 weeks) or frozen (3 months) until you need it.

Preheat oven to 450°F. Put the biscuit mix in a bowl and stir in the 1/2 cup cream with a fork. Add extra milk, 1 tbsp at a time, to make a moist, workable dough. (I added no extra milk, but flour varies. You want a dough that holds together, but is not too wet. Worst case scenario - your biscuits are too crumbly or too dense. They'll still be good to eat, and each time you make them you'll get a better feel for the dough.)

Turn the dough onto a lightly floured surface. Pat to a 3/4-inch-deep rectangle. Cut into 8 roughly even pieces. Transfer to a parchment-lined baking sheet (I use a reusable silicon liner called a Sil-Pat that I got at Sur La Table). Brush lightly with the melted butter. Bake in the middle of the oven 10-12 minutes, until lightly browned top and bottom.

Makes 8 fluffy biscuits

Teachable Moments

The New York Times recently noted the passing of the creator of Cheez Doodles, Morrie Yohai, a World War II veteran and junk food pioneer who helped shape the Baby Boom generation – literally.

Joy’s childhood was split between England and Canada. She wasn’t exposed to the quality and quantity of junk food that I was in the USA, the Saudi Arabia of sugar.

I was to sugar what Scarface was to cocaine. We liked it white, refined, and as often as possible.

In previous posts, I’ve talked about my family’s addiction to Coca Cola and Charles Chips. But I also loved Milk Duds, Turkish Taffy, Atomic Fireballs, Ju Ju Bees, Necco Wafers, and Sugar Daddies. My parents were enablers. They never said no to sugar.

When it came to veggies, I had trauma. I could handle canned string beans and corn, sprinkled with salt, but I gagged on garden-fresh vegetables. They were squishy and irregular and smelled earthy and did not come in plastic packaging. They were not advertised on TV.

I still remember the first time I tasted vegetables like tomatoes and asparagus. Blech! My first exposure to sweet potato was in the cafeteria in 1st grade. I was revolted, and subsequently instituted a six-year cafeteria boycott, switching to a nuclear submarine lunch box instead.

I decided I wasn’t cut out for vegetables.

So I didn’t learn how to identify or eat them. And the anxiety that I carried around not knowing how to buy, peel, slice, cook or chew fresh vegetables lasted through college.

When I was talking to a friend about his kid’s football team recently, I had a traumatic Little League flashback. I was 9 or 10 years old and playing 3rd base when I got steam-rollered by a massive 12-year old baserunner because of my bad tagging technique.

That could have been a teachable moment, but my father wasn't there to pick me up, dust me off, and coach me on what just happened and how I could avoid being flattened repeatedly. I subsequently drifted, demoralized, out of Little League. Looking back, I realize I just didn't have good sports coaching.

I now see that I could have used some food coaching from my parents as well. When I reached for a Sugar Daddy, they could have said “not now, honey.” When I spit out a Brussels sprout, they could have said “Let’s try again next week.”

These days, I actually appreciate many of the scary vegetables that Joy cooks. I can tell chard from collard greens, and I like Brussels sprouts. I even know what to do with a turnip, if forced.

Too bad I missed out on all that nutrition as a kid.

Sweet Potato Hash

When Larry goes out of town, I take advantage of the opportunity to eat the foods he is not so keen on.

Like sweet potatoes.

He doesn't understand why I would eat sweet potatoes when I could eat white potatoes. Especially for breakfast.

But I have to say, there's nothing like this sweet potato hash with a fried egg on top to start a Sunday on the right note.

Sweet potatoes are nutritional powerhouses. They have large amounts of the antioxidants glutathione, beta carotene and vitamin C. They are anti-inflammatory and a good source of dietary fiber.

Plus they taste good.

I find sweet potatoes are sweet enough without the fruit, brown sugar and marshmallows so often paired with them on the Thanksgiving table. I like to eat them with mushrooms and onions to enhance their earthiness, as in this sweet potato hash that I bake in the toaster oven.

Sweet Potato Hash
5 oz cremini mushrooms, cut in half-inch pieces
5 oz sweet potato, peeled and chopped in half-inch pieces
2 tbsp chopped shallot or red onion
1 1/2 tbsp olive oil
salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 450°F.

Toss all the ingredients together. Spread in an even layer on a baking sheet, and cook 10 minutes. Stir well and cook another 8-10 minutes until tender and golden brown.

Serves 1-2 as a side dish, or as brunch with fried eggs on top.