Wednesday Food Blogging

Hannah Banana, Betty, and me

2013-03-30T16:26:41+00:00

A week ago I got lucky: I won a contest on Facebook for a vegan pamper hamper given away by Hannah Banana Bakery. The contest was to get HBB's Facebook page to 4000 "likes", which is quite an accomplishment.

The first installment of my prize came the other day. It's the cookbook Betty Goes Vegan, a vegan take on the famous Betty Crocker cookbook. (There's a link to buy it on the sidebar, fyi.) This is not your mother's Betty Crocker cookbook. And yes, my mother actually had the Betty Crocker cookbook. That and a church cookbook were the only cookbooks she owned, and I made every dish that sounded good from both of them (I cooked a lot when I was young, since my mom had no interest in cooking more than mashed potatoes and roast.)

Anyway, I was in the mood for cookies and these toffee bars sounded yummy. And easy. I threw them together in about five minutes, but it took them a lot longer to bake (30 minutes) and to cool. The chocolate layer consisted of Ghirardelli chocolate chips (they're vegan!), scattered over the hot toffee layer. They melt pretty fast, but then they have to firm up. We put them in the cold room (our living room, in the winter, stays about the same temperature as the fridge) and it still took about an hour.

The result was yummy! I can't wait to try other recipes from this really huge, comprehensive book. And I haven't even received the rest of my hamper yet! I asked if it could come in time for my birthday on April 13, so my husband wouldn't have to bake a vegan birthday cake for me (as he always does—isn't that sweet?).

I'll post here when the rest of the goodies arrive.

Oh, and I have a few more recipes to share here too. I'm in a cooking mood lately. (I cook when I procrastinate, and I'm in the dreaded middle of another novel, so anything to avoid the blank page.)

Garden of Eden Ratatouille...and news

2013-03-07T12:11:21+00:00

Roasted Ratatouille from the garden

When I'm not blogging here or at What Do I Know?, I'm writing fiction as Kathryn Barrett. Recently my first novel, Temptation, was released. It's about a Hollywood actress who moves to Pennsylvania to film a movie set in Amish country. Laura quickly becomes enamored of the simple life, the unexpected calm she finds there in the farming community. And when her handsome neighbor suggests she take up gardening, she embraces the idea with passion.

And just like in the Garden of Eden, all is not well...there's a lot of temptation there amongst the lettuce, and even a snake. And a cute kitten.

By the time the film is completed in the fall, Laura's garden is full of organic goodness: a bounty she shares with her new friends at a barnraising.

Throughout the summer Laura experiments with recipes from her garden. She makes pesto with the sensuous basil, ratatouille from the luscious eggplant, loaves of bread with the zucchini-that-won't-quit.

Here's her recipe for Garden of Eden Roasted Ratatouille.

It's really a delicious way to use up garden produce, or the bag of produce on sale at the supermarket. Don't be tempted (!) to skip on the long roasting time; it's the long spell in the oven that really dispels the sweetness and flavor in those cherry tomatoes. By the time it's done your house will smell like an herb garden in summer, and you'll be ready to plant your own vegetable garden.

It's easy to adapt, too, to larger portions: I'd suggest using two separate roasting pans or dishes if you're using more than the ingredients called for, to avoid having to stir them around too often. (I used a 13 x 9 inch Pyrex dish; you could also use a baking sheet covered with foil.)

Happy eating, and if you want to read more about Temptation, check out my author website or download it from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, or Kobo.

Demuths Restaurant in Bath

2013-01-04T16:19:33+00:00

Demuths: The best veggie option in central Bath

Finding ourselves in Bath, we of course opted for lunch at the only vegetarian restaurant in town: Demuths, on North Parade, an alley not far from the Roman Baths Museum. We were a captive audience, not knowing the town well enough to venture in search of vegan fare further out, and pressed for time as well.

Here's the thing you need to realize: vegetarian restaurants in Britain will feature two mains: a risotto (made vegan on request) and a curry. If it's winter, expect to find a nut roast on the menu as well. To round off the sparse lunch menu at Demuths, a non-vegan salad (with blue cheese mousse) was offered.

I love risotto, but, frankly, I've had about all of them I can stand. The table next to us had ordered it and it was a lovely beet red color, which at least added some interest. And as for cauliflower and potato curry—again, I've eaten my fill (the night before, in fact). So two of us ordered the tempura nut roast, which turned out to be large cubes of nut roast, breaded in tempura batter and fried. I'm still working out whether that was innovative or desperate.

My daughter ordered parsnip soup, which, again, is standard fare this time of year. With a big hunk of bread for dipping, it was filling enough for a main dish.

Polenta Chips with plum ketchup

SInce the starter we really wanted, mushroom and chestnut paté, was no longer available, I settled for the "local leeks with hickory smoked potato, hazelnuts, apple and pickled yellow mustard" while my daughter ordered polenta chips. The hickory smoked potatoes were truly divine. In fact they vie with the polenta chips and plum ketchup—actually just the plum ketchup—for first place. Polenta chips are like french fries, only made with sticks of firm polenta. They're becoming standard veggie fare, as well—though in this case the plum ketchup set it above the fray.

The tempura nut roast, served with cider gravy, was probably a better idea on paper. In practice, the tempura batter didn't add anything but calories. The roast veg was nice, along with the cranberry puree. (Though I'd have preferred a dollop of plum ketchup!)

Demuths' Nut Roast – Tempura nut roast with cranberry and cider puree, cider gravy, roast brussel sprouts, potatoes and carrots

The service was slow, and a bit of misunderstanding meant my starter arrived with my main—I'd have preferred to savor those potatoes on their own for a while. The garlic bread I ordered arrived at the same time too, so it was a case, literally, of famine to feast.

While I'd definitely recommend Demuths for anyone in search of a vegan meal in Bath, it isn't worth a trip to Bath (nor, incidentally, is the Jane Austen Centre, fyi). But there are plenty of other reasons to make a trip to Bath, any time of year, in fact. If you do, pencil in a trip to Demuths Vegetarian Restaurant. The menu will undoubtedly have changed to something more seasonable by then, but I suspect you'll find risotto and curry and polenta chips. And perhaps a nut roast with fusion aspirations.

Demuths is located at 2 North Parade Passage. Follow the signs for Sally Lunn's and you'll come to it. To reserve a table, phone 01225 446059. I rang as we were finishing up at the Roman Baths Museum and secured a table, but on busy days you might want to ring up further ahead, as the restaurant, housed in a Grade 1 Georgian building, isn't very big.

And if you're in Bath for more than a few days, you might check out Demuth's Vegetarian Cookery School, run by Rachel Demuth. The courses look interesting—more interesting, in fact, than the lunch menu.

Celebration Seitan and Stuffing Roast

2012-12-29T14:13:07+00:00

A worthy holiday feast: Celebration Seitan and Stuffing Roast

It's always a challenge to find a vegan centerpiece for special occasions like Thanksgiving or Christmas. The spectacle of a turkey is such a traditional experience for most of us that replacing it requires a truly magnificent dish. Lasagna just won't cut it.

When I first became vegetarian, it was the subscription to Vegetarian Times that kept me supplied with original ideas for the holiday centerpiece. Every year they supplied in their November and December issues a couple of holiday main dishes, and, since there was no internet to speak of then, these options were welcome.

Our family's favorite over the years has been this seitan and stuffing loaf, covered with puff pastry, that appeared in the 1995 holiday edition of Vegetarian Times. Ironically, it was one of the first main dishes I made for our newly vegetarian holiday table, but it's still my family's most requested dish.

But when I was asked to make it this year, I knew it needed a bit of updating. Back in the nineties I'd never heard of tarragon, or even imagined that I could make my own seitan, nor did my pantry contain a magical ingredient called "liquid smoke."

I've updated the recipe, included an easy recipe for seitan, and upped the herb quotient considerably.

It's a pretty inpressive centerpiece, and I guarantee your family won't miss the turkey or the ham if you put this in front of them.

Slice open to reveal layers of seitan, stuffing and puff pastry

Keep reading for the recipe, and click here for a printable version.

Seitan:

1½ cups vital wheat gluten
¼ cup gram flour (chickpea flour or besan)
⅓ cup nutritional yeast
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1 teaspoon poultry seasoning
½ teaspoon paprika
½ teaspoon onion powder
½ teaspoon salt (note: if the broth is not salted, use 1 teaspoon)
1½ cups vegetable or chicken-style vegetable broth
2 tablespoons olive oil
½ teaspoon liquid smoke

(Note: if you don’t have poultry seasoning, combine equal amounts sage, thyme and marjoram and add a dash of nutmeg.)

In a large bowl combine the dry ingredients ingredients. Combine the liquid ingredients, including the liquid smoke, in a measuring cup.

Stir the broth mix into the dry mix.

When the mixture is combined, knead with wet hands for 5 minutes. Set aside for 10 minutes to rest. (At this point you can boil the water in the steamer.)

Then form the dough into a rough log shape.

Cut the log into 4 pieces. Wrap each piece in aluminum foil.

Place the 4 pieces into a steamer basket. Steam for 30 minutes.

Remove from steamer and set aside to cool (or refrigerate if not using right away).

Marinade:

2 cups vegetable stock
2 tablespoons soy sauce or tamari
¼ teaspoon liquid smoke

Cut the seitan into 1 - 2 inch pieces and place in a flat dish. Combine marinade ingredients and pour over the seitan. Let sit for 4 - 8 hours in the refrigerator.

Note: Liquid smoke is available from some online retailers in the UK.

Stuffing:

2 loaves bread, preferably whole wheat or ½ whole wheat ½ white

2 onions, chopped
5 stalks celery, chopped
3 carrots, chopped fine (no more than ¼ inch)
2 tablespoons margarine
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 tablespoon fresh tarragon, chopped
1 teaspoon dried sage
½ teaspoon dried thyme
¼ cup parsley, chopped
1 cup vegetable broth, plus more if necessary

Cut bread into cubes and allow to dry. (Either leave the cubes out overnight or dry them in a very low oven for 1 hour.)

Set aside.

Melt margarine in a skillet. Add onion, celery and carrot. Stir in the olive oil.

Saute over low heat for 20 minutes, stirring frequently, until carrots are soft. Stir in the herbs in the last 5 minutes of cooking.

Transfer the mire poix (the onion/carrot/celery mixture) to a large bowl. Add the bread cubes and toss. (Note: you may not need all the bread cubes; I typically use about 1 ½ loaves. Play it by ear and don't add the full amount until you've stirred the mirepoix into about half the cubes.)

Add the broth and stir to incorporate throughout. (Again, don't add the full amount all at once. How much broth you need will depend on how dry your bread is.)

Set aside.

Brown gravy:

1 tablespoon margarine
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 shallot, finely chopped
2 tablespoons flour (sauce flour, if you have it)
2 cups vegetable stock
2 tablespoons soy sauce (low sodium is best)

Melt the margarine in a sauté pan. Add the olive oil and the shallot. Cook over very low heat until the shallot is soft, about 20 minutes.

Combine the stock and the soy sauce; set aside.

Stir the flour into the oil and as soon as it's incorporated into the shallot mixture (a paste will form) stir in the stock, slowly adding more as the liquid is incorporated into the oil/flour mixture.

Stir with a wire whisk until the mixture is thickened, about 5-10 minutes.

If desired, you can add a little more soy sauce to get a darker colored gravy.

Note: For the stock/soy sauce mixture, you can use the leftover seitan marinade if your seitan has marinated long enough.

To assemble:
1 or 2 sheets puff pastry (see note)
soy milk for brushing the top

Cover cookie sheet with aluminum foil. Place seitan pieces in an oblong mound in the center of the pan, layering with about a cup of the gravy. Pile the moistened bread cubes over the seitan, pressing down with your hands.

Roll the puff pastry sheet until it's large enough to cover the seitan/stuffing mixture. If you use two sheets, layer one over the other. Cut out decorative leaf shapes with the excess puff pastry from the edges. Place the decorative shapes over the seam or around the edges.

Brush the puff pastry with soy milk.

Preheat oven to 350. Bake the centerpiece for 1 hour to 1 1/2 hours. If the crust starts to brown, cover with aluminum foil for the remaining baking time.

Let cool for 5 minutes, then transfer to a large platter. Cut in slices and cut the slices in half for serving sized portions. Serve with extra brown gravy.

Note: We found one piece of puff pastry was enough, when rolled thin, and since that was how much came in the British package, that’s all we used. American puff pastry (check to see that it’s vegan) may contain more than one sheet. You may prefer to use two sheets in order to have extra for decorative purposes. If you have leaf cookie cutters, these are idea for cutting out the shapes. Otherwise trace a holly shape onto the pastry and cut with a sharp knife.

Chinese New Year #Fail at Imperial China

2012-02-01T08:29:26+00:00

The Vegetarian Set Menu at Imperial China. Note the levitating teapot.

Yesterday I joined 25 friends for Chinese New Year at Imperial China restaurant. I'm really glad I was surrounded by so many people I knew, because when you get in a fight with a waiter you really need backup.

It's not a good thing when your Chinese restaurant experience is compared to a Seinfeld episode. It's also probably not a good way to start the Year of the Dragon by wishing you could fly over your table of ten, Crouching Tiger-style, to kick your dragon of a waiter right in his dim sum.

I wish I could say the food made up for it. I ordered the Vegetarian Set Menu, which came with lots of items, none of which I could eat until another waiter could be found to bring me a fork. I've tried, repeatedly, to use chopsticks, but I'm incredibly uncoordinated and it's just not happening for me.

Chinese food in London is another thing that's just not happening for me. I love Chinese food, at least the kind you get in America, which is probably nothing like Chinese food in China. Which, from what I hear, is a good thing. I've never been to China, and despite my love of travel, it's one place I just don't care to visit. I love my dog too much.

Chinese food in London always tastes fishy. And it's very vegetarian un-friendly, despite the Vs on the menu and the Vegetarian menu section. I've seen pork listed under Vegetarian, and I've had tiny prawns appear in my supposedly vegetarian noodle dishes, so I'm very suspicious of what passes for vegetarian at any Chinese place here.

But my argument with the waiter started before we even ordered, which was itself an ordeal—he came over and told us we were talking too much and he wouldn't take our order.

While he continued to glare at us, someone ordered tea. I asked if they had green tea, and he shifted his glare at me. "It's Chinese tea," he said. "But is it green?" "It's Chinese tea." I really needed to know. Black tea has too much caffeine—it makes my heart race, and I'd already taken cold medicine that morning that upped my heart rate. If I drank black tea I really would pull off a Crouching Tiger table leap, so I asked again: "Is it green tea, black tea, or oolong?" "Not oolong. Chinese tea."

I returned his glare. "Forget it. I'll have water."

Look, if someone doesn't know what kind of tea they're serving, they need to find out. If they refuse to tell a customer, they need to be fired. If they can't speak well enough English, they need to seek out someone who does (this didn't seem to be the problem).

I decided to spend the rest of the time talking, just to spite the waiter. I picked at my food on my tiny plate, served from the lazy susan centerpiece. When I finally got a fork, delivered by a friendlier member of the wait staff, I realized I hadn't missed much. I can make greasy Chinese food in my own kitchen, and it doesn't come off smelling fishy and overly sweet.

In fairness, at least they did offer vegetarian Chinese food. Another place we went, an Asian food store with a restaurant on the top, replied to my question about vegan food with a curt "No. No vegetarian." While the indigenous diet of rural Chinese people is primarily rice and vegetables, urban dwelling restaurateurs seem to look down on anyone who prefers meatless dishes.

How dare we deny ourselves flesh! And how dare we question the tea. In fact, just don't talk at all.

Happy Chinese New Year. May the Dragon glare at your enemies and the Tiger give you strength.

Grilled Tofu with Bourbon Chipotle Barbecue Sauce

2012-01-04T10:21:02+00:00

Grilled barbecued tofu is easy to make with a grill pan

I love my grill pan. While I'm not much for cooking on the barbecue grill outdoors, I do like to get those grill marks on my food. And a non-stick grill pan, with ridges on the surface, is perfect for making barbecued tofu in the dead of winter.

The barbecue sauce is a little bit of "everything but the kitchen sink." I had just enough bourbon left to spike the simmering sauce with some Kentucky sweetness. And maple syrup for that essential Canadian nice-ness, as well as a nice blackened crust to the tofu.

Don't worry if your barbecued tofu is "blackened"—it's even better that way!

I was also lucky enough to have extra-firm tofu. If you're shopping in Britain you'll be hard pressed (pun intended) to find firm tofu, since the only brand most stores carry is Cauldron, which for some reason doesn't offer a range of firmness in its tofu range. Go to an Asian store, and ask for the firmest tofu they sell, if you can. Otherwise learn to press tofu to create a firmer texture.

I suppose if you wanted, you could make barbecued tofu with regular barbecue sauce from a bottle, but it wouldn't have the extra kick from the chipotles. There's nothing like smoked jalapenos for kicking barbecue-sauce ass. But go ahead, make your life easier, just don't say I didn't warn you.

Be sure you're using Chinese-style tofu from the refrigerated section of your supermarket, not the kind sold in shelf-stable packages (like Mori-Nu, which has its uses).

For a printable version, go here:

Barbecue Tofu:

2 lbs extra-firm tofu
½ cup soy sauce
¼ cup maple syrup

Drain the tofu and pat dry with paper towels. Slice into slabs (if the tofu is thick, you can get three slabs from a block). Cut into smaller pieces if desired. Marinate in the soy sauce and maple syrup for an hour, turning to distribute the marinade equally after a half hour. (Note: If your marinating dish is large, you may want to make more marinade to adequately marinate the tofu slabs.)

Make the barbecue sauce:

1 tablespoon olive oil
2 shallots, minced
2 cloves garlic, minced
¼ cup bourbon whisky
2 tablespoons tomato paste (tomato puree in the UK)
¾ cup tomato sauce (passata in the UK)
2 teaspoons vegan worcestershire sauce OR soy sauce
2 tablespoons cider vinegar
¾ teaspoon liquid smoke
¼ cup brown sugar
½ cup ketchup (or more as needed)
2 chipotle peppers in adobo sauce, minced

Saute the shallots and garlic in the olive oil over medium heat until translucent, about 5 minutes. Pour in the whiskey and the tomato paste, stirring to make a paste. Stir in the tomato sauce and the worcestershire sauce.

Lower the heat and add about ½ cup water. Stir in the vinegar, liquid smoke, sugar, ketchup, and chipotle peppers. Simmer the sauce over low heat for about 20 minutes. Add more ketchup to thicken the sauce, or water to thin it—you want it just thick enough to cling to the tofu.

Turn the heat off under the sauce and let it cool enough to dredge the tofu slabs with your hands.

Heat a grill pan over high heat.

Lower heat to medium-high and spray with cooking spray. Place the dredged pieces of tofu on the pan. Cook until the bottom has seared, about 4-5 minutes. Lift with a spatula and flip; sear the opposite side. Remove from pan and keep warm while searing the other pieces. Serve immediately, with extra barbecue sauce.

Manna Restaurant in London: An oldie but very, very goodie

2011-12-24T19:39:12+00:00

A slice of cheesecake, stealthily photographed under less-than ideal conditions, undergoes diagnostic testing.

Manna Restaurant is the oldest vegetarian restaurant in London, a town that does old things really, really well (see "London, Tower of" and "Buckingham Palace", which isn't that old but houses our old queen). And anyone who's read my other blog knows I love old stuff. A lot.

So why wasn't I interested in visiting the oldest vegetarian restaurant in London, thus combining my two loves: vegetarian food and old stuff? If you've ever eaten in an 80s-era vegetarian restaurant in, say, Ohio, you'll understand. Vegetarian food tended to be all about buckwheat and broccoli back then. A nut roast was considered the ultimate in vegetarian innovation. Mushrooms were limited to salads, and most pasta contained elbows. And if you were lucky enough to find a vegan restaurant, the menu would have all the excitement "Braggs Liquid Aminos" could muster. Truffles? Wasabi? Mole? No, your rockin' vegan grandparents were not about to rock their tastebuds with anything more exciting than a clove of garlic.

But vegetarian restaurants have come a long way. And Manna Restaurant in Primrose Hill has evolved right along with our taste in mushrooms. We demand more excitement on our plates than we did in the 80s, and vegan food is as flavorful and satisfying as any cuisine mankind has yet invented. I was delighted to see that the menu at Manna is 100% vegan. They proudly tout plant foods, knowing cashew cream is as pleasing to the palate as the kind that detours through a cow's udder. You won't find Wensleydale on the menu, but you will find prosecco risotto, oyster mushrooms, and balsamic reduction.

We visited Manna recently with two new friends, neither of whom were vegetarian. We all left impressed, and for me, there is extra incentive to return: when I inquired about the ingredients in the cheesecake, our server carried my request to the chef, who issued the reply that I'd have to return five more times in order to be given the secret.

While the cheesecake is reason enough to return to Manna five times, the rest of our meals were also worthy of a second—or sixth—visit.

We were given the choice of ordering from the regular menu or from the Christmas menu, which featured a Truffle and Prosecco Risotto Cocotte and a Sage and Chestnut Wellington. I was tempted, but having perused the online menu, I'd set my heart on the wild mushroom ravioli, a starter available as a main. I stayed the course, and added the Basil and Cashew Cheese Croquettes as a starter. The croquettes were served with homemade chili jam and a lot of tasty leaves. The crisped ravioli were a bit tough, making them difficult to cut into bite-sized portions, but once I managed to get them in my mouth they were delicious. I was particularly interested in the fennel cream sauce, since I'm exploring alternatives to soy cream in my own kitchen, but I suspect any inquiries would have been met with a similar response as when I inquired about the cheesecake.

And can I just rave about the cheesecake? Cranberry and Orange Cheesecake, served with ameretto brittle vice cream and butterscotch sauce—now there's a vice I can easily succumb to. My husband proclaimed it the best cheesecake he's ever had—and he's eaten his share of non-vegan cheesecakes. Our server said it was the chef's own invention; I can understand his desire to keep the recipe to himself, but a masterpiece of this quality deserves to be read. And eaten. By everyone.

If you know any non-vegans who don't believe a cheesecake can be sufficiently delicious without cheese derived from a cow, take them to Manna Restaurant immediately. And tell the chef you're me, so I can get my hands on that recipe. (The scientists at our table were keen to start a Cheesecake Laboratory, modeled after the Cheesecake Factory, in order to get to the bottom of this delicious mystery.)

I heard no complaints from the rest of our party about their meals, either. It's always a risk taking non-vegetarians to an untried vegetarian restaurant: one bad experience could turn them off vegetarian food forever, much the way a bad Japanese restaurant can ruin the idea of sushi. But there was no need to worry about Manna Restaurant. I guess there's a reason they've been around forty years: They do vegetarian (and now vegan) very, very well.

I shall return. Armed with a few discrete laboratory tools to ID the cheesecake ingredients.

White Beans with Orecchiette Pasta

2011-12-07T19:35:12+00:00

Don't let the lack of color put you off: White beans pack a lot of flavor in their pale skins.

The other night my husband and I were talking about beans. With all the different varieties, which were our favorites? I decided my favorite were white beans, of any type. (My least favorite? Black eyed peas.)

But I'm often at a loss when I try to think of a new way to cook white beans. Sometimes, the simple ways are the best.

So I didn't follow a recipe and just improvised, after soaking half a package of dried navy beans (which are not, you may have noticed, blue). Any white bean would work, especially cannellini or Great Northern beans. Although I used only half a package, you might want to double the recipe and use the whole package of dried beans—I only recently realized I didn't have to cook way more beans than my small family can eat at one sitting just because dried beans come in 1 lb or 1 kg packages.

Plus, the smaller serving gave me a chance to use my new soup stock pot, a smaller pot than the 8 qt Dutch oven I usually cook beans in.

I had a package of orecchiette pasta, so named because it's shaped like little ears. But don't let that slightly cannabalistic image scare you off; the little shapes are perfect for scooping up the bean juice.

For a printable recipe, go here; otherwise, keep reading.

For more recipes with white beans:
French White Bean Soup
White Beans with Seitan Sausage
Grilled Vegetables with Mashed White Beans
Kale and White Bean Soup
Risotto Rice and Cannellini Bean Soup
Tuscan Kale with Cannellini Beans and Polenta Points
Swiss Chard and White Beans over Penne
Baked White Bean and Rosemary Spread with Fococcia
Pasta e Fagioli
Gigante Beans with Polenta (my favorite bean dish!)

I had no idea I'd made white beans so often!

My new Calphalon pot is the perfect size for cooking beans

White Beans with Orecchiette Pasta

¾ lb white beans (navy, cannellini, etc)

2 tablespoons olive oil
1 onion, chopped
2 carrots, chopped
1 teaspoon dried rosemary
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 bay leaf
2 tablespoons tarragon, minced
1 tablespoon parsley, minced
1/2 lb orecchiette pasta, or pasta of your choice
salt and pepper to taste

Soak the dried beans overnight or for 6-8 hours. Rinse and cover with fresh salted water in a medium sized stock pot or sauce pan. Bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce heat to medium and cook for 1 - 1 ½ hours, adding water if necessary.

Meanwhile, heat the olive oil in a skillet. Add the chopped onion, carrot and dried rosemary; sauté for 5 minutes. Add the minced garlic and cook another 2 minutes. Add the contents of the skillet to the pot of beans, along with the bay leaf and the tarragon. When the beans are almost done (test for doneness periodically) add the parsley.

Cook the pasta in time to serve with the beans. Ladle the beans over the pasta. Add salt and pepper if necessary. You might also want to add a glug of olive oil to the bowl/plate of beans.

Food News: Food stamps bad, pizza good, grammar gone

2011-11-16T19:31:17+00:00

In MIssissippi, a woman has been sent to jail for three years for applying for food stamps:

Thanks to a federal ban on food stamps for people with felony drug convictions, people like McLemore are out of luck when it comes to getting assistance with putting food on their tables. Though states can opt out of the ban, those that don’t (like Mississippi) deny food stamps even to individuals who have already served their sentences or overcome previous addictions. It’s true that McLemore’s past isn’t perfect — she has four felony drug convictions and one misdemeanor, which place her firmly in the category of people the federal government has declared unfit to receive public benefits. Hence, faced with the prospect of being unable to feed her family, McLemore lied on her application.

Manwhile, Congress has declared pizza a vegetable:

The spending bill also would allow tomato paste on pizzas to be counted as a vegetable, as it is now. The department’s proposed guidelines would have attempted to prevent that.

The changes had been requested by food companies that produce frozen pizzas, the salt industry and potato growers. Some conservatives in Congress have called the push for healthier foods an overreach, saying the government shouldn’t be telling children what to eat.

Presidential candidate and former pizza executive Herman Cain, who declared in an interview with GQ that pizzas piled high with vegetables are "sissies", might have something to say about that, but I'm not sure I'd want to listen:

Chris Heath: What can you tell about a man by the type of pizza that he likes?

Herman Cain: [repeats the question aloud, then pauses for a long moment] The more toppings a man has on his pizza, I believe the more manly he is.

Chris Heath: Why is that?

Herman Cain: Because the more manly man is not afraid of abundance. [laughs]

Devin Gordon: Is that purely a meat question?

Herman Cain: A manly man don't want it piled high with vegetables! He would call that a sissy pizza.

(I would prefer a presidential candidate who could form grammatically correct sentences that don't misuse the word "don't". I mean really, if you can make a pizza, surely you can string words together in a proper fashion. No?)

Perhaps Herman Cain could provide some pizza for the lady in Mississippi. I'm sure she wouldn't mind if it was piled high with veggies, and our manly Congress would definitely approve.

This has been another installment of Things That Are Messed Up In America.

A side dish of Swiss chard

2011-11-09T19:19:49+00:00

Win the trifecta with healthy, tasty, and versatile Swiss chard!

I love Swiss chard. It's surprisingly hard to find, though; it ought to be sold at every supermarket in the country. Why? Because it's healthy, for one. A close relative of beets and spinach, chard is one of the healthiest vegetables around. It's loaded not only with the standard nutrients (vitamins and minerals) but also with phytonutrients—those anti-oxidants that gobble up the oxidants in our body, caused by, well, breathing.

Starting to sound a little too healthy? Then eat chard for the second reason: it's delicious! Unlike spinach, which wilts rapidly when cooked, chard stands up to a few minutes in the frying pan quite well, meaning more seared-in flavor. (Like the Swiss, chard is neutral in flavor, allowing it to absorb flavors from its neighbors.)

It's also sturdy enough to wrap around fillings, or to endure a three minute boil and come out the winner. All this makes it versatile, too—try it on pizza! Or as a bed. (Really!)

Chard cooks quickly, so for those of us who wait until the last minute to decide what to cook for dinner, this recipe should be in your repertoire. This sautéed chard with red onions, garlic and lemon juice is a perfect side dish, but if you want to turn it into a main, add a cup or two of white beans and find a grain to serve underneath.

Printable directions here, or keep reading for more illustrative photos.

Swiss Chard with Red Onion, Garlic and Lemon

1 tablespoon olive oil
1 small red onion, sliced into thin wedges
1 bunch Swiss chard, stems removed and chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon lemon zest, minced
salt
freshly ground black pepper
juice of ½ lemon
*Optional: 1 ½ cup cooked white beans

Heat olive oil in a large saute pan. Add the red onion and the stems of the chard and saute for a few minutes over medium-high heat, until the onion begins to be tinged with dark edges.

Add the chard and the garlic and continue to cook 4-5 minutes. Toss in the lemon zest and add salt and pepper to taste.

Remove from heat and pour the lemon juice over the chard.

*If desired add the white beans when you add the chard and heat through.

Stuffed Poblano Peppers

2011-11-03T15:55:06+00:00

Stuffed poblanos: What could be more refined and sophisticated?

The other day I got lucky and scored a bag of poblano peppers, those delicate peppers used in many Southwestern dishes that look similar to bell peppers but pack a bigger punch.

Delicate, with a bigger punch? The flesh of the smaller poblano is thinner than a bell pepper. Their heat is relatively mild when cooked, especially for tastebuds used to spicy Southwestern cuisine, and the green color isn't as washed out as a bell pepper, making poblano peppers a refined and sophisticated addition to your pepper wardrobe.

They're perfect for stuffing, bigger than jalapenos (that make excellent poppers) yet the thinner flesh means no precooking is required. (They're also especially delicious roasted until charred, which will be their fate next time I come across some.)

This recipe is a version of a Martha Stewart stuffed poblano recipe, with a vegan twist. I would have used my old standby, vegan cream cheese, but mine had turned to a solid frozen block in my fridge—guess I need to turn the settings down. I used silken tofu instead, which worked pretty well, and is shelf stable, so no need to refrigerate the box. The recipe also calls for cornmeal, but if you have masa harina cornmeal, use that for a more authentic Southwestern taste.

I was also pretty generous with the cilantro/coriander, which I understand turns some people into frothing zombies. If this is not your thing, you're welcome to omit.

Because a refined and sophisticated pepper like the poblano doesn't want you foaming at the mouth when you eat it.

For a print-friendly version, go here; otherwise, keep reading.

Stuffed Poblano Peppers

Sauce
2 cups passata (or tomato puree)
2 canned chipotle chiles (if using dried, rehydrate first)
1 clove garlic
1/4 cup cilantro/coriander leaves

Combine all sauce ingredients in a food processor and blend. Set aside.

4 - 6 poblano peppers (I used 6 relatively small ones)
1 can black beans (approximately 2 cups), rinsed
1/2 cup cornmeal or polenta (see notes)
6 ounces silken tofu OR soy cream cheese
1 tablespoon nutritional yeast
1 teaspoon cumin
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1 tablespoon lemon juice
2 tablespoons water

optional: grated vegan cheese
optional: chopped coriander/cilantro leaves

Cut the poblanos in half lengthwise. Remove the seeds and membranes.

Combine the black beans, cornmeal, tofu/cream cheese, nutritional yeast, cumin, garlic powder, and lemon juice in a medium bowl. Stir in 2 tablespoons water to make a moist mixture.

Preheat oven to 350F.

In a baking dish, pour all but 1/2 cup of the tomato mixture. Stuff the poblanos with the black bean mixture. (If your peppers are small you’ll have to squeeze the ends open to adequately stuff the inside cavity.)

Lay each pepper in the dish on top of the tomato mixture, and spoon a small amount of the tomato mixture over each poblano.

Cover with aluminum foil and bake for 45 minutes. Uncover, and if desired, sprinkle grated cheese on top. Bake another 10 minutes uncovered, until cheese is melted.

Remove from oven and serve with coriander/cilantro leaves.

Notes on ingredients: Passata is sieved tomato puree, usually sold in jars. Poblano peppers look like small green bell peppers, but they’re hotter, though not as spicy as jalapenos. If you have masa harina cornmeal, use that instead for a more authentic Southwestern taste. Nutritional yeast is found in health food stores or at goodnessdirect.co.uk. Use whichever vegan cheese you prefer.

A fish by any other name...might as well be tofu

2011-10-25T08:31:03+01:00

When the Boston Globe investigated the fish sold in Massachusetts restaurants and shops, guess what they found? Half of all fish is mislabeled, either by restaurants themselves or by the wholesellers.

They found "white tuna" was actually a dangerous fish called escolar, banned in Japan because it makes people sick when they eat it. They found Pacific frozen fish mislabeled as locally caught, often given fancy names to dress it up. They found restaurants serving ocean perch called red snapper on the menu, even when the chef knew the menu was wrong.

What's interesting is that diners couldn't tell the difference.

If half of all fish sold in the US is similarly mislabeled, what does this say about people who eat fish?

Are they willingly fooled? Some environmentally minded foodies will only eat so-called sustainable fish, yet never question the easy availability of such fish on menus.

Taste is very much about perception: tell someone they're eating or drinking something of high quality, give it an enticing name—like "fresh Chatham day boat haddock"—and they'll enjoy the taste much better than if you told them they're eating something that came out of a box from WalMart (as a matter of fact, the fish sold at WalMart was 100% what it claimed to be).

This leads me to think that if I dressed up tofu, presented it with a fancy meunière sauce and labeled it "Fresh Chilterns Soyafish" it would be a hit on any menu.

In fact, I've substituted tofu in recipes calling for fish before—try these North Vietnamese Tofu Brochettes. And Vanilla Tofu with Saffron Rice originally called for scallops. My sushi has never contained raw fish. I've also made shrimp-less etouffee using portobello mushrooms. No, not mislabeled, just delicious.

North Vietnamese Tofu Brochettes, made from sustainable tofu—honest!

So what's in a fish, really? If you're inadvertently eating perch instead of red snapper and can't tell the difference, why are you buying fish at all? Fish are mislabeled because fishing is unsustainable, and anyone who convinces themselves otherwise is willingly engaging in their own deception.

Try tofu instead. Search out the rare Fresh Pacific Rim Tofu the next time you make sushi. It's worth the extra effort—and you won't be fooling anyone.

KoKoB: Vegan Food In Brussels, Ethiopian Style

2011-10-19T12:32:47+01:00

Kokob, serving vegan Ethiopian food just minutes from the Grand Place in Brussels

I forgot to take a photo of my meal at Kokob, but if you've seen Ethiopian food, you know it's not the plating that makes the meal.

In fact, with Ethiopian food, forget the idea of plates and utensils altogether. The food is served on a big platter of injera bread, and consumed with torn-off pieces of more injera bread. And if you've never had injera, you're missing a real treat. Seriously. Find your nearest Ethiopian restaurant and make a reservation immediately. You won't be sorry.

Where was I? Oh yes, in Brussels, where we spent a couple of days this week. Brussels is one of my favorite cities, yet it's extremely unfriendly to vegans. There aren't many vegetarian restaurants, according to my favorite source, Happy Cow, and those are located nowhere near the city centre, as best I can tell. So I've yet to try one, despite having visited Brussels quite a few times.

And if, like me, you're trying to dine on Monday evening, forget it. All the vegetarian restaurants are closed.

Fortunately, I discovered one of my favorite cuisines, Ethiopian, is well-represented in Europe's capital city by KoKoB, only a short walk from the Grand Place and a few steps from the famous Mannekin Pis.

On Monday evening, we managed to snag one of the last unreserved tables—let that serve as a warning to make a reservation early. The place was packed. The back room is reserved for large groups, and even it filled during the evening.

I've eaten Ethiopian food in Denver, London and Rome. Plus I've attempted to make it myself. The cuisine is very vegan friendly, as you won't find the heavy cream-based sauces or eggy custards that feature in European fare. It's simple food, but made with complex spices that liven up the experience of eating with one's fingers.

On a continent where eating pizza with one's hands is considered uncouth, it takes some convincing to get locals to eat with their fingers. The two guys sitting next to us insisted on using the serving spoons to scoop up their food, but I noticed they ate every bit of it.

The next occupants of the table, a young North American couple, were willing to give it a go, after the server explained the technique to them. A few bites later, I heard the woman exclaim, "I'm a convert!"

That's how I felt the first time I tried Ethiopian food in Denver about 10 years ago. It reminded me a lot of Southern food, with down-home vegetables playing a prominent role: cabbage, squash, lentils, greens. But the spices are not something you come across in Grandma's kitchen. Berbere, the Ethiopian spice mixture, combines spicy peppers and piquant ginger, wielding a flavor punch you won't soon forget.

KoKoB handles the spices just fine. We ordered a three-dish combo (Beyanetu Miser) for two (32 euro), which included Miser Kik Key, lentils cooked in a spicy tomato sauce; Tîkle Gomen, cabbage and carrots; and Attir Kik Alicha, yellow split peas cooked in a milder sauce. As a side dish, we chose Azifa, green lentils with lemon sauce. First, though, we were offered a starter of a cup of bulgher wheat pilaf, an interesting combination of bulgher, yellow raisins and lemon juice.

We devoured all three, but the best was the Miser Kik Key. Not too hot for our tastes, but Europeans with their more delicate tastebuds might want to order something with fewer chiles next to the name on the menu. The berbere really stood out in this dish: the tomato sauce seemed to bring out its spicy flavors.

Our basket of injera ran out, so we asked for more, promptly delivered by our friendly server. I've made a few attempts at making injera myself—it's no easy task, unless you use a shortcut (soda water to produce the bubbles) but this was not made with the shortcut method. I could've eaten the plate—in fact, we did eat most of it, after the spicy sauces had soaked the injera and we'd finished our second basket.

We had no room for dessert, even if there had been anything vegan on offer, but we were served an Ethiopian honey aperitif (honey isn't generally considered vegan, but it's on my exception list). It was interesting, a sweet end to a satisfying meal.

My only complaint? The rickety chairs. With so much commotion going on at the birthday party behind me, I was constantly in danger of being tipped over. However, the convenience of having a vegan meal served on Monday and so near the Grand Place more than made up for the inconvenience of having to balance on an unstable chair.

Would I go again? Mais oui!

KoKoB is located on the Rue des Grands Carmelites, just down from Mannekin Pis. For reservations, phone 02 511 1950.

Gnocchi with Sweetcorn, Tomatoes and Spinach

2011-09-28T15:05:21+01:00

Gnocchi, sweetcorn, tomatoes, and spinach, flavored with summery tasting tarragon.

We're having Indian summer this week, although I don't suppose it's called Indian summer here, since Indians are usually thought of as being from the country of India and as far as I know, it's summer most of the time there.

But the weather is much warmer than it's been, even during what's referred to as summer in the British Isles. In fact, we hardly had summer at all, merely a few days when the temperature topped 80F.

So to celebrate this belated summer, I decided to cook some of the dear sweetcorn I procured from Tesco ("dear" in the expensive sense, since British farmers don't typically grow whole continents of corn).

When I came upon a similar recipe, which used massive amounts of cheese, I decided to veganize it, and added a few extra ingredients to add flavor without the fat. Tarragon is one of my favorite herbs, and it's right at home in this dish.

The results were like summer on a fork.

I hope this isn't the last of our warm weather, but I fear it may be. October's pumpkins are right around the corner, but for now, I'm eating all the sweetcorn I can afford.

If you'd like a printable recipe, click below. Let me know if this doesn't work for you; this is something of an experiment. Otherwise, keep reading.

Printable recipe

Gnocchi with Sweetcorn, Tomatoes and Spinach

Ingredients:
2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
1 cup cherry tomatoes, sliced in half
1 small onion, chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
kernels from 2 ears sweetcorn
2 cups baby spinach leaves (or regular leaves, loosely chopped)
1 tablespoon chopped tarragon leaves
salt
black pepper
2-3 servings prepared gnocchi*

Place the tomatoes on a baking sheet covered in foil. Mix with 1 tablespoon olive oil, and bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes. (Spray foil first with cooking spray.)

Meanwhile, heat remaining oil in large skillet. Saute onion, garlic, and sweetcorn about 7 minutes. Add spinach and tarragon and a few spoonfuls of cooking liquid from the gnocchi. (About ¼ cup). Cook until spinach is wilted.

Season with salt and pepper, and toss the cherry tomatoes into the corn mixture.

Cook the gnocchi according to package directions; drain. Stir the gnocchi into the corn mixture. Serve immediately.

*Check the ingredients for vegan gnocchi (much shelf-stable gnocchi is vegan) or make your own.

Vegan Dining in Edinburgh: Haggis at Henderson's, and Slumming at David Bann

2011-09-14T13:54:39+01:00

Henderson's Bistro is around the corner from Henderson's Restaurant, on Thistle Street

When I learned the great dog behaviourist Patricia McConnell would be giving a two-day seminar in Edinburgh, I signed up, knowing that might be the only chance I'd get to see her—she's based in Madison, Wisconsin, my old stomping grounds.

And I had another reason for going to Edinburgh: I've been wanting to try David Bann's vegetarian restaurant, right off the Royal Mile, for ages.

So last week we packed up the new car and headed north, arriving in time for dinner. We took a bus into town, since we were staying outside of the city, and landed on Princes Street. From my research I had identified at least three vegetarian restaurants in the city centre, and Henderson's Bistro wasn't far away.

Henderson's is actually several restaurants: There's an informal cafeteria-style eatery facing Hanover Street and down a short flight of stairs. From the street it looked as if there were only a few tables, so we went around the corner to the Bistro, which offers a full restaurant experience. We were quickly seated and handed menus, and I was delighted to see the haggis was vegan. Because a trip to Edinburgh just wouldn't be complete without haggis, right?

The haggis came with "clapshot", a name which may have been coined by Hendersons, according to our waiter. Clapshot is tatties and neeps, or potatoes and turnips, mashed. For a starter, I ordered a warm salad of roasted butternut squash and smoked tofu.

I was unsure what kind of wine to order with haggis, but the waiter was helpful: "Red, I think," he said, but he also thought beer would do just as well. Red it was, a nice organic red.

Smoked tofu and roasted butternut squash salad

The salad would have been enough for a light meal, and indeed it comes in a larger size if that's your intention. But I was starving, having eaten little on the drive north. I scarfed the salad, every last currant, while my husband enjoyed the soup of the day.

The haggis was beautiful to behold. A platform of haggis, topped by tatties and neeps, served with a cup of gravy for dipping. The gravy was more like the thin gravy you might get with a roast beef sandwich, only better. The haggis was succulent tidbits of lentils, kidney beans, mushrooms, and of course oats, the only remnant of the original inspiration. It reminded me of a non-meatloaf I've made before—I'd never thought to call it haggis!

Vegan haggis, the food of hungry Scots

I enjoyed every bite, but my husband's goulash wasn't as appreciated. An uninspiring plate of rice, potatoes and mushrooms left him wanting more. So we ordered the only vegan dessert, a chocolate nut cake.

I should know better than to order cake in Britain. The British have different ideas about cakes, believing they should be dry and crumbly and heavy. This fit the bill perfectly, but the only thing I enjoyed about it was the chocolate taste once I managed to get a few crumbles on my fork and into my mouth.

It didn't matter, though: the haggis was so filling I had no need for dessert.

For the next night, I had made reservations at David Bann, an upscale vegetarian restaurant just off the Royal Mile on St Mary's. I spent all day walking up and down hills, in and out of the rain, through castles, Georgian houses, and even a twenty minute ride in a whiskey cask (don't ask). I didn't go back to the hotel, so I was a bit tatty when we walked into David Bann's. It didn't matter. It's Scotland, where upscale has a different perspective. We were given a nice table anyway, and offered a bread roll since I looked to be near starvation.

There were several vegan items on the menu, including a nice starter of Thai broccoli and tofu fritters. They turned out to be more like little balls, served with a delightful plum dressing and banana chutney. I could easily have eaten a dozen.

For my main I ordered udon noodles with ginger red pepper sauce and smoky seared tofu. The tofu was very nice, but I see David Bann has no better luck than I do finding firm tofu in Britain. It lacked a bit of bite, though the gingery sauce made up for it.

Udon noodles with ginger red pepper sauce and home smoked tofu

My husband's Indian dosa, filled with potatoes, chickpeas and broccoli, was flavored very well and made up for the previous evening's plate of humdrum goulash.

For dessert there was only one vegan option, so when I ordered I pointedly said "We'll have the vegan one—the only vegan one." I'm not sure they got the message. As the sole representative of vegan-ness on the dessert menu, it was merely okay—a raspberry jello-like tower over orange drizzle cake with a tiny spoonful of coconut sorbet. Not very satisfying, but fortunately it came after generously sized main meals.

Raspberries in jelly, orange drizzle cake and coconut rum sorbet

I also paid Henderson's Restaurant another visit for lunch, mainly because I needed a place to get out of the rain and regroup after discovering the Scottish Portrait Gallery was closed. I'm glad I did, because I discovered there was much more than a few tables inside. Two enormous rooms were hidden from the street, but offered a nice ambience, expecially with live piano music playing in one corner. I picked up a tray and ordered soup from the line, and a couple of salads. The soup was excellent: sweet potato and coriander. The salads—a pasta salad and a generous scoop of hummus—were left on my plate, after a few bites convinced me they weren't worth the calories. (I'm not much of a fan of cold salad, so take this with a grain of salt, and add a little to the hummus too.)

It's hard to ruin hummus, but they've somehow managed. (Perhaps they're averse to garlic that far north?)

Henderson's sweep potato soup, with bread and unappetizing salads on the side

I didn't get to try Black Bo's, the third vegetarian restaurant on my list. Instead we ate at the hotel, which served a vegetarian Thai curry...strangely, with pappadums, naan bread and mango chutney. Perhaps they need a map to discover that Thailand is not actually part of India. But the pappadums were damn good, so I'm not complaining.

All in all, a vegan doesn't fare too badly in Edinburgh, home of haggis and geographically challenged hotel chefs. And at the seminar, I learned, among other things, that animals have consciousness and feel pain and experience emotions: what more incentive does anyone need to try vegan haggis instead of the other kind?

Fried Courgette Batons with Basil Cream

2011-08-11T14:32:12+01:00

Fried courgette batons, i.e. zucchini, are paired with basil cream in this rip-off recipe.

Yesterday my friend brought over a couple of large courgettes from her garden. I hefted one and wondered what to do with it. I considered adding it to the risotto I was preparing, but I already had asparagus and rocket destined for that.

Then I remembered the menu at a gastro-pub I went to the other day. (This gastro pub had a decided hint of Heston Blumenthal, circa 2008, but I didn't hold that against them.) Among the starters were fried courgette batons with basil cream. I hadn't fried anything in a while, so I figured I was due an indulgence. Or ten. Because once I tasted how exquisite these bites of courgette were—battered, fried, and dipped in creamy basil sauce—I had to eat a few more. And a few more. And finally I cut up more of the humongous courgette and fried more, since I had plenty of basil cream left.

Indulgence? Zero cholesterol basil cream shouldn't be an indulgence, right? In fact, I have some cream left over, so I'm going to find something else to dunk in it. Boiled cabbage, maybe. To make up for my sins.

I used a thin batter based on pakora batter, with gram flour (chickpea flour, available at any supermarket with an Indian section) and rice flour (available at Asian markets, but be sure it's not the sweet kind). The basil cream is based on cashews, which I've raved about before.

Printable recipe

Here's how:

Fried Courgette Batons with Basil Cream

Fried courgettes:

1 large courgette, sliced into batons about 2 inches long

1/2 cup gram flour (chickpea flour)
1/4 cup rice flour
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup water
vegetable oil for frying (about 1/2 inch deep)
basil salt (optional)

Mix dried ingredients in a shallow bowl. Add enough water to make a thin batter—may be more or less than 1 cup. Mix with a fork until lumps are gone. Dip the courgette pieces into the batter and wait for the oil to heat. (I use a small cast iron skillet, over medium high heat, for almost all my frying.)

When the oil is hot enough to sizzle when a drop of batter is dropped into it, place the courgettes in the hot oil. Turn after a minute or two, and fry the other side. Remove to a plate lined with a paper towel. Sprinkle with basil salt if you have it, or other herbed salt.

Basil Cream:

3/4 cup cashews
1/2 cup basil leaves
1 tablespoon nutritional yeast, or vegan parmesan if this isn't available
juice of 1/2 lemon
salt to taste
1 cup water, approximately

In a food processor or blender, grind the cashews until they're very finely ground. Add the basil leaves and nutritional yeast and grind until the leaves are pulverized. Add lemon juice and enough water to form a liquid sauce, about 1 cup. Add salt to taste.

Serve the fried courgettes with the basil cream sauce on the side.

Note on ingredients: I use canola oil, or rapeseed oil, depending on the continent. Courgettes are also known as zucchini on other continents. Nutritional yeast is available from health food stores in the US, and perhaps in the UK, and from Amazon.com. Vegan parmesan is readily available in the UK, but is not made from nutritional yeast. Only use it if nutritional yeast is not available, or skip altogether. It adds an aged cheesy taste to the sauce.

Summer of Food

2011-07-28T18:50:45+01:00

Daughter Number One and Daughter Number Two both left yesterday, after weeks spent enjoying the British summer. Well, what passes for summer. It was warm enough to eat outside a handful of times, but fortunately it was never too hot to turn on the oven.

We did a lot of cooking, especially Daughter Number Two. One of the first things we did when she arrived in May was to visit the Japanese store in London, and bring home unpronounceable goodies. We visited the new Tesco in town almost daily, buying staples like soyamilk and bread and Sharwood's Baked Bombay Bites.

It was a Summer of Food. No traveling, no sightseeing, no sibling spats, just lots of yummy food.

Here's a taste:

These Oatmeal Cream Pies were in the kitchen waiting to greet Daughter Number One when she arrived from the States in June. Made by Daughter Number Two from a recipe in Kelly Peloza's The Vegan Cookie Connoisseur.

Japanese food, sourced from here. Newly-graduated Daughter Number Two minored in East Asian language and literature, and speaks a reasonable amount of Japanese. Handy to have her around.

Another answer to the age-old question, What To Do With an Aubergine? Make Eggplant Parmesan, vegan-style. With a nice French wine, and a balmy British evening.

That warm day in June when we had Pimms...

Vegan crepes, stuffed with white beans and seitan and mushrooms. Wish I'd written down what we did, but I haven't a clue.

My favorite Japanese food: Inari, rice-stuffed tofu pockets.

More Japanese food: Udon soup. With bits of silken tofu. Nice for a cool Summer day.

After a muddy hike in Denham Daughter Number Two made tempeh reuben sandwiches. With a pickle relish sauce.

Trofie pasta. Here are the details.

Broccoli and cauliflower soup. With some vegan cream swirled around.

For her Dad's birthday, Daughter Number Two made Tiramisu. Yes, it's vegan. Yes, it was delicious.

For our country's birthday, Daughter Number Two made cupcakes. Yes, they're vegan. Yes, they were delicious. Chocolate and vanilla, with strawberries and blueberries for decorations.

Tired of veggie burgers, we opted for BBQ sandwiches made with fake beef strips. Served with the leftover salads from our July 3rd cookout. (July 4th is not a holiday, you'll realize. Why would the Brits celebrate the day they lost their biggest colony?)

These were Daughter Number Two's idea: Stuffed Jalapeno Poppers. Stuffed with vegan cream cheeze, Tofutti brand. We also battered up various veggies and fried those too. It was a memorable night.

Another visit to the Japanese food store produced mochi, a Japanese treat: Rice flour pastries stuffed with sweet red bean paste. Handmade by Daughter Number Two.

Thought it was time to post a photo of the head cook around here: Daughter Number Two, bending over a pot of boiling pasta.

These free-form pasta, made with parsley leaves in between two pasta sheets, ricotta "cheese" and rocket (arugula) pesto, were a collaborative effort between me, Daughter Number Two, and chef Tal Ronnen. The recipe can be found in here.

Parfait, made with mango, pineapple, and blueberries. Found in Vegan Desserts by Hannah Kaminsky. (And twisted a bit to adjust for ingredients we didn't have, like raspberries.)

You've probably been thinking, with all this cooking, someone had to clean up, right? Well, that's when we called The Stig. (We wanted that cute Richard Hammond, but he wasn't available. And I've heard a rumor that The Stig is vegan. How else would he get the energy to burn up the track like that?)

Trofie Pasta with Potatoes, Green Beans and Basil Cream

2011-06-16T17:01:57+01:00

A new twist on trofie

I've blogged about my favorite Ligurian pasta dish before, even included a recipe—and I hate to revisit old blog recipes. But last night I made trofie pasta (now available at Tesco) and tweaked the recipe I've posted before. The result? I thought for a moment I'd been transported to the Cinque Terre...but one look out at my gloomy garden convinced me I was still home in boring England. My taste buds weren't convinced. They sang their way through helping after helping, washed over by a white wine vaguely reminiscent of the Italian Riviera.

When I saw a bag of fresh trofie pasta at Tesco, I figured it might be something my daughters, visiting for the summer, might enjoy. One loves pasta, the other potatoes, and the Ligurians use both in their traditional trofie pasta dish. And green beans happened to be on sale.

But Daughter Number Two didn't want pesto—she's decided she's allergic to garlic. Fortunately, the other day I'd made this dish, which features a cashew basil cream, and we had leftover cream. It turned out to be the perfect non-garlicky substitute, making Trofie Pasta with Potatoes, Green Beans and Basil Cream our new favorite comfort food.

Who says comfort food has to come from your native country?

And who says you can't revisit a recipe now and again?

If you can find trofie pasta, wonderful. (Here's a link for US-based readers.) Trofie is sometimes made with chestnut flour—you can make your own following the recipe here. But it does have a thicker texture than regular pasta, so try to substitute with a denser pasta if you can't find trofie. I used a waxy salad potato, Exquisa from Tesco.

And if you're new to vegan cooking and worry about using a cashew-based cream, this is a great entry level introduction. Unlike some fussier cashew cream recipes, the cashews don't need to be soaked in water beforehand. You will need a food processor, but you already have one of those, right?

Keep reading for instructions:

First, make the basil cream:

Basil Cream:
1/2 cup cashews, ground
1 cup packed basil leaves
1 lemon, juiced
1 tablespoon light miso
3/4 cup water
salt, to taste

Combine the cashews, basil, lemon juice, and miso in a food processor. Process until smooth. Slowly pour in the water and combine thoroughly. Add salt to taste (a few shakes) and remove the mixture to a large bowl (large enough to hold all the rest of the ingredients, with plenty of room to toss) until ready to use.

The rest:

Trofie pasta, enough for 4 servings
1 1/2 cup potatoes, peeled and cut into bite-sized chunks (about 1/2 inch)
1/2 lb green beans, trimmed and cut in half
salt

Bring a large pot of salted water to boil (you'll be putting all the ingredients into the pot, so make sure it's big enough). If you're using dried trofie pasta, add that first—it takes a good 15 minutes to cook. Otherwise, add the potato cubes.

When you estimate you have about 10 minutes left to cook the pasta, add the potatoes. In another 5 minutes, add the green beans. After another 5 minutes or so, taste the pasta for doneness. Pour into a colander and add the drained pasta mixture to the bowl with the basil cream.

Toss well, and serve warm.

Real Food Festival in London, and Vegan Caviar!

2011-05-07T21:56:50+01:00

Asparagus and rhubarb from Riverford. Real food.

Who knew there was such a thing as vegan caviar? I sure wouldn't have known if I hadn't attended the Real Food Festival in London this weekend.

I didn't expect to find too many vegan goodies, but I was pleasantly surprised that many of the exhibitors either had dairy-free or vegan items prominently displayed. One discovery was Shambhu’s vegan catering. They were offering samples of their cheesecake—three varieties, including mint chocolate chip, mixed berry, and lemon coconut with a ginger biscuit base. All three were yumm, and I bought one serving sized container of each to bring home. If I ever need an event catered, I'll definitely call Shambhu’s.

I also talked to the Chiltern Cold Pressed Rapeseed Oil folks. I find it kind of funny that they make such a big deal of cold pressed rapeseed oil, which is known as canola oil in the States and is easily available as expeller pressed. I'm not willing to pay £6 a bottle for their expensive canola oil, but I was interested in the bowl of actual rapeseeds they had displayed.

Rape seeds

Since we walk through rape fields quite frequently this time of year, it was interesting to see what the final product looks like. They harvest the seeds in July, after the rape flowers have died off. The oil is as yellow as the flowers, and is also used as biofuel.

Real vegan caviar.

There were quite a few interesting exhibitors, but the real find was Caviar 4 Everyone. It was developed by a Russian doctor, who noticed his patients had high rates of cardiac disease, which he attributed to high fat/high cholesterol fish-based caviar. Soykavy is made from soy, using a unique process. Two varieties were on display; one was milder (and less expensive) and the Beluga was fishier, more pungent. I bought both, and David Hollier, who sells the product here in England at Caviar 4 Everyone, threw in an extra sample size jar of Beluga. I would feel completly confident in serving this to friends who normally eat fish-based caviar, knowing it's that good—and good for you. Serve on a cracker with a smear of vegan sour cream (make your own) and you've got an elegant, tasty appetizer.

I also found exhibitors with other vegan baked goodies, as well as familiar brands I've seen in health food shops. I bought some olive oil from Palestine, and sampled scads of olive oils, spreads, and dips that were vegan. I sipped juices made with English fruit, and white wines from Bordeaux.

No, I didn't have a gin and tonic, despite the temptation.

Nor did I meet the other Marmalade Addicts.

But I did buy some olive bread, a bunch of asparagus for £1, and a punnet of the best strawberries I've ever eaten for another pound at the Whole Foods exhibit. Worth the price of admission? Sure.

Eight Easy Portions

2011-01-26T20:04:43+00:00

Borough Market in London, with more than eight varieties of veg

Remember when health experts told us to eat five-a-day? Five fruits or vegetables a day, to improve health, prevent heart disease and cancer, and bring peace and prosperity to the land (or something like that).

Now they say we should really be eating eight—and that every serving of fruit or veg we add to our diet, even if it's not eight, will reduce our risk for heart disease by 4 percent.

Most people don't even get five portions of fruit or veg a day. (A portion counts as 80 grams, about one apple, one small banana, or one small carrot.) In fact, only 32 percent of American adults eat fruit two or more times a day (2009 figures) and a mere 26 percent eat vegetables three or more times a day. I eat nothing but plant foods, yet I don't always eat five or more fruits and vegetables a day (unless popcorn counts as a veg).

So I've been thinking a lot lately about how to add more vegetables to my diet. This time of year I almost always have a root vegetable or two (or ten) in my vegetable bin. Roasting is still my favorite way to eat them, but there's only so many times I can set a platter of roasted parsnips in front of my husband before he'll sneak off to the frozen french fry aisle at Tesco.

The other night I had a Savoy cabbage in the fridge, half a swede (rutabaga) and my favorite British potatoes in the bin. Mashed potatoes, with skins removed, aren't very nutritious, but they're one of my favorite things to eat. But they can be a lot more nutritious when cooked with a root vegetable, which adds phytonutrients as well as fiber.

Here's what I did: I cut up some potatoes and the swede, boiled them together, and steamed the cabbage separately. Then I mashed the potato and swede in the same bowl with a potato masher, added some plain soy yogurt, some margarine, and stirred in the cabbage. I placed this mixture in a baking dish, baked it for 20 minutes at around 375F, and ended up with several of my eight servings right in the same dish. I served some sliced carrots on the side, too, but I noticed I was the only one eating them. (My husband has an aversion to orange food. I made him eat double portions of the potato/cabbage mixture.) If this reminds you of the famous British dish Bubble and Squeak, well, guilty as charged.

Despite the name, the dish was delicious, but I didn't take a photo. (It looked nice, really, especially served in a pretty Portmerion baking dish.) But then, this post is really only about giving you ideas for incorporating eight vegetables into your daily diet.

Don't have a swede? Use turnips, carrots, celeraic, or any root vegetable you have. Don't have Savoy cabbage? Use any green, including spinach. If you've got picky eaters in the family, chances are they won't notice anything other than the mashed potato—you can start small, if need be, only adding one turnip, or one small carrot to the mash.

For more information, check out the National Fruit and Vegetable Program's website. This chart of what constitutes a serving is really handy. And oh, look: an ear of corn is one serving...that's like a bowl of popcorn, isn't it?

White Beans with Seitan Sausage

2011-01-17T19:59:16+00:00

Beans. Good for your heart, etc. But also just good.

Sunday afternoons around here are often devoted to bean cooking. We try to vary the beans: pintos, black beans, kidneys, limas, or blackeyed peas. I think my favorite are white beans, in any shape or form: cannellini, giant lima, Great Northern or small flageolet beans.

Yesterday we cooked Great Northern beans, which are very similar to cannellini or white kidney beans. When the beans were almost done, I scooped a couple cups out and made this: Mashed White Beans with Spinach and Olives. It was wonderful, made exactly as the recipe describes (albiet with beans cooked from dried rather than canned).

With the rest of the beans, I drew inspiration from the previous night's dish, but added some sliced seitan sausage I'd made a few days ago. (From this recipe, with spices of my choosing.) I also left out the spinach and olives, and served the beans with spaghetti, thus creating a seitan Pasta e Fagioli.

I would recommend using dried beans rather than canned, since you just don't get the flavor and the creaminess in canned beans that you do when you cook them from dried. I also have been breaking my dried beans rule and adding salt before cooking, which results in perfectly cooked beans. Who knew.

Directions below:

White Beans with Seitan Sausage

1 tablespoon olive oil
1 onion, chopped
3 cloves smoked garlic, or regular garlic, minced
2 links seitan sausage or other vegan sausage, sliced
2 cups cooked white beans (cannellini, Great Northern, or other similar sized beans)
1 cup vegetable broth
2-3 thyme sprigs
2-3 oregano sprigs
red pepper flakes
salt and black pepper, to taste
olive oil, to drizzle

spaghetti or pasta of your choice

In a large saute pan, heat the oil over medium heat. Add the onion, and sauté until golden brown, about 7 minutes. Add the garlic and the sausage. Sauté for a minute or two, then add the beans and the broth, the herbs, and the red pepper flakes. Check for seasonings and add salt and black pepper to taste.

Simmer over low heat for about 20 minutes, adding water or broth if necessary. You want a creamy, thick consistency but with enough sauce to cling to pasta.

Meanwhile, cook the pasta according to package directions. Serve the beans over the pasta, with a drizzle of olive oil if desired.

Note: Seitan is made from vital wheat gluten, which as far as I know is not available in the UK. I get mine from the US when I have visitors or via the mail. (Bob's Red Mill offers it online if there's not a health food store in your area that carries it.) You can also make it using regular flour, but it's a lengthy process and involves rinsing the flour to separate out the gluten. (For some reason, seitan is sold in France but I don't know where they get their gluten.) The recipe I've linked to is the best recipe I've found for seitan sausages. Do try it if you can get vital wheat gluten.

Two cups beans in the recipe is about 1/3 of a 1 lb package of beans. Use the rest for something else, or freeze them. Beans freeze very well, and taste much better than canned.

My Meatless Monday

2010-12-06T18:49:42+00:00

Yesterday we cooked black beans and made chili (following this recipe). It was fabulous, and of course there are leftovers—the best thing about cooking dried beans. Not only are they mostly fuss-free, once you've started them cooking, but you've got at least 2 or 3 meals for your effort.

While I was spooning them into my bowl, I decided a nice slab of polenta would be nice. So that's today's evening meal, sorted.

We also tried out the latest advice on cooking dried beans: add salt before cooking, which is contrary to everything I'd read and indeed, written here. But it works. Salting them before cooking makes no difference to the texture of the beans; if anything, they cook faster and are just as tender.

So now you know.

Breakfast: cereal, banana, and soymilk

Snack: toast with apple butter, which isn't available in British supermarkets, so that's a rare treat.

Lunch: PB&J, my after-gym quick fix lunch.

Dinner: The aforementioned black beans, polenta, and a salad. Here's how I make polenta. I grill it (in a pan with raised bits to give grill marks) with a little margarine/olive oil, on each side.

Extra: Cookies. Made these this afternoon, in lieu of a walk. It was just too cold out there, and the idea of heating the oven had some appeal. Tip: If your brown sugar has gone hard, microwave it for 20 seconds or so. It's a miracle.

My Meatless Monday

2010-11-29T18:41:45+00:00

Quinoa Stuffed Peppers, and accompaniments

It's Monday again, and that means it's meatless around here. Okay, every day is meatless. But Meatless Monday has a ring to it, don't you think?

For breakfast, I had my usual: Dorset Cereal with soy milk.

For lunch, I ate Alpro yogurt (cherry—yumm!) and some carrot sticks.

For dinner, I made a version of this: Quinoa Stuffed Peppers. It wasn't exactly the same; I didn't use celery, and in the chipotle sauce I used sundried tomatoes instead of chipotles. On the side, some string beans with pine nuts (since I didn't use any of those in the peppers either) and a slice of La Brea bread, named after a place in Los Angeles but made in Ireland. It's a delicious whole grain bread, and the brand new Tesco in town was selling it at their grand opening today. My neighbors are upset about the new Tesco coming into town and changing the flavour of the village, but I'm happy for the convenience.

Because Meatless Monday is all about convenience—my aim is to show non-vegans how easy and convenient it is to be vegan, even if for one day a week.

We also had a 2009 Bordeaux, which was a Very Good Year. Meatless Monday is all about good food and wine, too.

What was on your table for Meatless Monday?

My Meatless Monday

2010-11-22T15:25:56+00:00

Today is Monday, obviously, and we're having—what else?—Red Beans and Rice.

It's a tradition in Cajun country to eat red beans and rice on Monday, using the ham hock from Sunday's ham dinner. At least that's what they say. I doubt few Cajuns these days bake ham on Sunday, much less cook red beans from scratch on Monday.

And of course 'round here, we never have ham hock at all. In fact, when you think about it, isn't that a pretty gross concept? The ankle bone of a pig in your beans? You have no idea where that ankle's been, and you want to put it in your pot of beans? Good luck with that.

We like to make red beans from dried, although if we haven't soaked beans in advance, canned will do just fine. If you can find actual red beans, instead of red kidney beans, do use those. They're smaller and more authentic than the larger kidney beans.

But alas, Cajun products aren't found on the shelves of Tesco, so red kidney beans usually do for us. Here's the recipe, along with a little Cajun lore.

Oh, and for breakfast, I had the usual cereal—Dorset cereal, since I"m still trying to win a Mini. For lunch, a sandwich, made with wholemeal bread, my favorite Maille mustard and some of these sage and onion slices from Redwood. They're really yummy, even for a devoted PB&J fan like me.

What's on your menu for Meatless Monday?

My Meatless Monday

2010-11-08T20:59:40+00:00

Today was dreary—wet and cold. I spent part of the morning at the gym, after a hearty breakfast of Dorset cereal and soymilk. (I love their cereal, but they're also giving away a Mini Cooper, which I am determined to win.)

For lunch I snacked on popcorn and yogurt (Alpro soy yogurt). Lunch isn't my favorite meal, and more often than not I snack throughout the day rather than sit down to a proper plate of food.

For dinner I warmed up leftovers from last night—there was more than enough for two generous helpings. I also steamed some Savoy cabbage, and shook a few drops of red wine vinegar on it for flavor. (Greens and vinegar were made for each other. Or maybe it's a Southern thing.) And we finished the bottle of 2009 Bordeaux, supposedly an excellent vintage.

Speaking of France, if you happen to be in Paris for Thanksgiving, you can have a vegan Thanksgiving at the Gentle Gourmet. Details here. (I'll be in France the day before, stocking up on mustard and wine and yummy vanilla soya milk.)