I was introduced to lentils done this way by my host mom in Belgium when I was an exchange student. It was a hearty meal at the end of a drizzly belgian winter day. Comfort food for my homesick Canadian heart. Paired with creamy mashed potatoes, they reminded me of my mom’s shepherd’s pie, deconstructed.

The dish is savoury and rich. And most of the creaminess comes from the lentils themselves – making them a rare breed of virtuous comfort food. The trick is to cook them in plenty of liquid for an longer time, allowing them to break down. My host mom says she didn’t add any cream at all to hers – but I like the bit of added richness.

New to lentils? This is the place to start. I love these little morsels because they don’t need to be pre-soaked, as other dried beans do, and they cook in 20 minutes. I love them in salads in the summer, and in soups in the winter. They’re loaded with protein and fibre.

Dried lentils often have bits of non-lentil matter mixed in, so you should sort through them and then rinse them well. The other thing with cooking lentils from scratch is to make sure you don’t add any salt until they are tender. Salt makes them tough.

This is a perfect, healthy dish for a chilly day. And I’d bet kids would love it – with its creamy texture and mild flavours.

Kale chips are crazy good. They sound like hippie food, I will not argue with that fact. You may have to go on trust here. We’ve established trust, haven’t we? After all, I am the same person who brought you this moist chocolate cake and those whoopie pies with salted caramel buttercream.

Quite frankly, I could have titled this post “how to eat an entire bunch of kale in under 5 minutes”. Because that’s pretty much what happened.

The kale chips are brought to you by a sale on greens converging with the arrival of a fantastic cookbook in my mailbox – “The Cleaner Plate Club“. Whenever I am asked to review a cookbook, I make it clear that I will not write anything unless I feel the book is something wonderful that my readers would love. This one fits the bill!

The Cleaner Plate Club’s tag line is “raising healthy eaters one meal at a time”.

Let me digress a moment and say that I am a skeptic when it comes to kid-focused healthy cookbooks, as I am very firmly against hiding spinach in brownies, which is sadly the going trend. Kids are smart, they will catch you. Deceiving children in this way only confirms to them their belief that vegetables are horrible things to be avoided, and does nothing to establish a healthy relationship with food. It is a band-aid solution at best. And why would you violate a perfectly innocent brownie like that?!

The Cleaner Plate Club is aligned with the approach I take in my practice when it comes to feeding kids. I encourage parents to make vegetables taste good, make them visually appealing, and lead by example by gobbling up your own healthy share while the kids are watching. No fights, no coercion, and certainly no concealing. The book is packed with lots of good, down-to-earth advice along this same train of thought, with fantastic references – not just anecdotal tips.

Most importantly, I appreciate that the recipes appeal to grown-up foodies, not just picky kindergarteners. And the pendulum doesn’t swing in the health nut direction – ingredients include butter, cream and sugar. No “good foods” vs. “bad foods”. Just tasty foods (like Pumpkin Gnocchi with Walnut Cream Sauce!), using whole, nutritious ingredients. This is important because my hope would never be just to raise healthy eaters, but to raise adventurous eaters who love good food.

So back to the Salt & Vinegar Kale Chips that emerged from this book I am gushing on about. Basically, you take grassy, cruciferous green leaves, lightly coat them with oil & vinegar, and toss them in a hot oven. In a matter of minutes, they are transformed into a delicious, addictively crisp, salty snack that could rival kettle corn on movie nights.

Kale chips are totally different experience from the steamed kale you may have met as a side dish. Sworn green haters need to try this. Vegetables that taste awesome, high five!

P.S. I was not paid, just my thoughts, promise.

A note from the author of the recipe: If the chips start to brown, they can taste burned. If you find the chips are browning before the kale is crispy, reduce the oven temperature.

I’m giving you the recipe as written in the book, with my notes added in parentheses.

It snowed in Vancouver today! It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, I am over the moon. This is what winter is about. Bright skies, blinding white snow, rosy cheeks, wool mittens, mugs of creamy hot chocolate, and a steaming bowl of stew.

This succulent chicken stew with apples and cabbage might just be the best stew ever made. It’s got cream and bacon, need I go on? It is positively packed with earthy vegetables. Tender bites of tart apple offset the richness. Sweet, aromatic sage perfectly complements the winter flavours.

I mopped it up with warm, homemade whole wheat bread, and then I licked the bowl.

The celery root is a lumpy, gnarled tuber. The ugly stepsister of vegetables if ever there was one. Don’t let it’s arthritic, bulbous appearance put you off. It’s flavour is fresh, and it’s texture is rich and potato-like. Also known as celeriac, it is the nutrient-packed root of a specific kind of celery plant. It tastes like celery, with the volume cranked way up high. In a pleasant way. It mellows out perfectly in a slow-cooked dish.

Of course, the blog post was this close to being called Seagull Stew with Cabbage and Apples. But let’s not go down that road again.

I got attacked by a seagull. And I do not use the term “attacked” lightly. It was Hitchcockian.

Let me tell you what happened. And then we’ll talk about cranberry lemon loaf.

I was starving after my Sunday yoga class. I thought I’d stroll through the bustling Granville Island market, and find something for lunch. I did. I found a delicious bratwurst with sauerkraut, fried onions and spicy mustard. Bratwurst in hand and not a seat to be found, I thought, “why not go eat on the dock?”. Live music, a nice view of the boats, and a momentary break in the rain. So off I bounced toward the wet benches, ponytail swinging happily behind me.

About 20 steps onto the slippery landing, a deafening screech ripped through the air. I barely had time to emit a gurgling scream of horror as a seagull the size of a twenty-five pound turkey dive-bombed my bratwurst. His evil razor sharp beak was wide open, tongue vibrating with the piercing shriek, evil beady eyes bulging, ugly pink feet scraping my head as he went in for the kill.

Now, I am not one you want to tussle with over food. I take it very seriously. My limbs still agile from seventy-five minutes of downward dogging, I managed a wild and dramatic twirl and duck.

Bratwurst safety secured? Negative.

The screeching, flapping, terrorizing gull did a wide circle and swooped once more. I attempted to dive out of the way, but my foot slipped on the wet pier and I felt myself sailing through the air, ass-over-teakettle.

Sauerkraut flying in all directions, I went soaring in slow motion past a crowd of stunned faces until I collided brains-first with the wood, followed by my elbow and hip.

I suppose I could have protected my head by landing hands-first, but in that split second I decided my sausage was more important than my melon.

When I eventually recruited the strength and courage to peel myself off the gull-poop splattered dock, the musician had stopped playing. Everywhere I looked, people were gaping. My drink had exploded all over me, and I had fried onions in my hair. The good news is, my clever instinct to save the bratwurst by smooshing it heartily into my chest was successful, except my white coat was well-smeared with spicy mustard.

Humiliated and in pain, I limped past my captive audience back inside and plunked my dirty ass down at a table already occupied with a family of tourists who were made very obviously anxious by my crazy-eyed, sauerkraut-smelling presence. I ate my smushed-up bratwurst while they stared bewilderedly and whispered rapidly in what I think was Ukranian.

Not one, but TWO families were documenting the incident with handycams. One lady even came in for a closeup of the mustard smear. I will be obsessively searching for “crazy sausage lady attacked by seagull” on Youtube for the next few weeks.

Let me just tell you, dear seagulls: this is not over.

In this war of Jenn vs. bird, and you should be shaking on your knobbly little pink legs.

I swear on my now birdpoop-streaked yoga pants that if I had a gun, I would be limping back to Granville Island right now to get myself the makings for seagull pot pie.

Instead I am icing an ugly bruise, muttering bitterly about birds, and drinking wine at 3 o’clock in the afternoon. Ahem.

One day, gulls, I will get even. Watch your beaks.

Okay, now let’s talk about lemon cake with cranberries and lemon icing.

With it’s upbeat yellow hue and bright flavour, this cake is pure sunshine on a gloomy Vancouver day. It is almost cheery enough to offset the emotional damage inflicted by a seagull attack.

I used meyer lemons (which are slightly sweeter than regular lemons, rounder in shape, and more orange in colour), but you can use standard lemons with equally wonderful results. I adore tart lemon desserts, but if your tastes err on the sweeter side, you may opt to reduce the cranberries to 1 cup or omit them completely.

For a moist, well-risen, perfect cake, be sure your ingredients are all at room temperature; measure your flour accurately by gently spooning and leveling (rather than scooping, which will cause a dry cake); preheat your oven fully; and be gentle when folding in the cranberries.

I don’t buy bottled salad dressing. Period. It is so easy to make your own. It takes seconds. It tastes infinitely better. It lacks the long list of questionable ingredients. It just tastes so much better. Did I mention it tastes better? It does. Much better.

I do lemon-olive oil vinaigrettes often for the simple salad of mixed baby greens that accompanies any meal where the vegetable component is an afterthought. I make a homemade caesar dressing for sturdy romaine. I love to make fruity raspberry, grapefruit or mango vinaigrettes for when I make a salad as a meal for lunch, or dinner on a hot summer day.

But my favourite by far? This homemade ranch dressing.

It is creamy. It is fresh. It is tangy. It is wildly addictive. It makes carrot sticks sing the hallelujah chorus. Don’t get me started on what it does for grilled cheese sandwiches…

You can use sour cream, yogurt or buttermilk (or a combination!) for the dairy component. I use whichever is in my fridge. The buttermilk will make a thinner dressing, more conducive to salad than to crudites.

Happy New Year!

After 3 weeks of travel through India and Thailand, my feet are back on Canadian soil. My brain, however, is irritatingly convinced that my feet are still in Asia. Jet-lag has had me up at 4:30 am for the past 3 days. I am tired. The nauseous, head-falling-in-cereal-bowl, slow-motion-blinking, saying-”excuse me”-to-the-wall-I-just-walked-into kind of tired. The fact that I am able to coordinate thought-fingers-keyboard right now is a small miracle.

To give you a brief rundown, in the past 21 days I have seen the inside of Vancouver, Beijing, Delhi, Cochin, Hyderabad, Bangkok, Phuket and Taipei airports. There were numerous red-eye flights. There was a beautiful Indian wedding and hundreds of future in-laws to meet. There were throat infections, delhi belly, mystery rashes, car sickness, sunburn, hives and antibiotics. There were beautiful beaches and chaotic cities and bustling family homes. There were temples, houseboats, markets, grand palaces, and rickshaws. It was a wonderful, and certainly memorable trip… however, it has left me completely bushed.

Under the scorching Asian sun, I was only vaguely aware of Christmas, but I assume that it happened in my absence. While I was eating idli and dosa, I’m sure you were enjoying the holiday food trifecta of butter, chocolate and cheese. Considering this, and the fact that if I were to stumble around my kitchen in my current state I would almost certainly bake my oven mitts and burn down my apartment building, I thought I’d dig around the archives for some light-hearted oldies to kick off a new year of cooking.

May your 2012 be filled with happiness, success, laughter, good friends and amazing food. And may I get some sleep before I start throwing cats at people.

Healthy Recipe Roundup

Black Chickpea Curry

Wheat Berry Salad

Avocado Frozen Yogurt

Boston Baked Beans

Coconut Curried Yam and Chickpea Soup

How to Make Greens Taste Grand

Split Pea Soup

Homemade Granola

Chickpeas in Star Anise

Perfect Hummus

Broccoli Salad

Creamy Tomato Soup

Spiced Carrot Ginger Soup

This is a very quick hello from far away!! I’m busy eating incredible coconut curries and soaking up the humid South Indian sun, so I must keep this short.

While I’m finding it hard to imagine snow and christmas lights right now, I still wanted to share my collection of festive goodies.

What’s that I hear? I think there is a tender coconut with a straw in it calling my name. I must be off!

Have an eggnog for me, okay?

Christmas Cookie Recipes

 
Chocolate Candy Cane Cookies
Candy Cane Fudge
Mint Chocolate Cookies
Chocolate Snowball Cookies
Whoopie Pies with Salted Caramel Buttercream
Chewy Double Chocolate Cherry Cookies
Chocolate Almond Meringues
The World’s Best Sugar Cookies
Cinnamon Crinkle Cookies

I am leaving in the morning on a big trip to India. I’m pretty seriously excited. My fiancé’s sister is getting married. I get to go to a big Indian wedding, and eat Indian food three times a day (more if my pants are stretchy enough), and hang out with some wonderful people. In the sun!

Okay, backing up a bit, yes, I said fiancé. Can’t say it yet without blushing and smiling foolishly ear-to-ear. And squealing a bit. And hopping a few times. EEE! But that now I’ve said it once, I’m reverting back to boyfriend.

So moving on. These lovely sugar cookies are rolled in cinnamon sugar and then baked. The outcome is sparkly, crinkly, lightly spiced cookies that are perfectly chewy and quite magical.
Simple, but wonderful.

Also known as snickerdoodles, these delightful cookies are very popular in New England. Rumour has it this name originated from a horrible mispronunciation of the original German “schneckennudeln”. Hoo boy, there’s a mouthful.

My only additional baker’s tip is that due to their (absolutely delicious) high butter content, they do spread a lot. Give them lots of space and make the balls smaller than you think you’ll need. Otherwise, you might land yourself just one gigantic cookie.

Sparkly cinnamon sugar puts them right at home on a Christmas cookie plate, but I think I’ll be revisiting these new favourites all throughout the year.

The baked cookies freeze wonderfully!

Pears and ginger go swimmingly together.

Ginger and chocolate is divine.

Pear and ginger AND chocolate all packed into a buttery, flaky scone? I’d tell you how good it is but my mouf is full.

Dark chocolate ginger pear scones would make a fabulous addition to the Christmas brunch table. They also make a delicious treat in the afternoon. Either way, serve them with creme fraiche or whipped cream and hot, milky tea to take the experience into the realm of scone euphoria.

If you’d like, you could substitute the pear for dried cranberries or cherries (using about 1/2 cup) for a nice pop of holiday colour.

As mentioned in the instructions, the dough will appear too dry and you will likely feel the urge to add more buttermilk. Resist. It will come together when you gently press and knead.

Moisture encourages gluten formation (which is essentially the muscle of dough – desirable in bread, not so much in pastry and scones). Adding too much liquid can contribute to tough scones. Also, don’t overknead. Be gentle. Ten kneads are suggested, but feel free to stop sooner if the dough has come together.

I’m talking egg nog in my coffee and rum in my egg nog.

A marathon of holiday movies and a playlist of five-hundred Christmas songs being played on a loop. Non stop. From the moment I wake up till the moment I go to bed. I’m surprised my Hindu (i.e. completely befuddled by this out-of-control Christmas thing) boyfriend has yet to “accidentally” drop my ipod in the toilet.

All that to say, it is finally almost appropriate to start being publicly excited about Christmas. I think you should celebrate the first day of December by baking fudgy cookies with candy canes on top.

Chewy and deeply chocolatey, studded with chunks of white chocolate and sprinkled with sparkly candy canes. There is a 99.5% chance that these cookies will become your new favourite.

As with the recent Chocolate Snowball Cookies, chilling the dough is non-negotiable here. Any residual warmth from the melted chocolate will cause the butter to melt in the dough before it hits the oven and the cookies will spread to paper thin. No good. Do the chilling.

You can chill too! Preferably with a rum-and-nogger.

These cookies freeze beautifully, if you are organized enough to do your Christmas baking in advance…