I stood over the pan of sputtering shrimp and watched as they turned from sea gray to sunset pink.  They were coated with a garlicky onion mix tinged green from the fresh cilantro and dill.  A pungent Middle Eastern aroma sprung up from the pan when I added the Kuwaiti spice mix that I recently put together.  I left the shrimp momentarily to throw the caramelized onions that I had cooked down with cinnamon, raisins, and toasted almonds into the baked acorn squash, and tossed in a bit of parsley.  I was back to the shrimp for a quick stir and the over to fluff the couscous when the phone rang.

It was a good friend and fellow principal calling to check in after a long day at her school.  I had beat her home and she was jealous that I was already into dinner.

“So, what are you making tonight?” she inquired with a note of expectation as she had come to enjoy our meals, albeit vicariously.

I described the meal.

“So what’s the occasion?” she asked a bit incredulously.

“Monday night,” I laughed.

“Wow, you are crazy!” but she knew it was more than psychosis, “Do you find that cooking relaxes you after a hard day at school?”  she asked.

“I do,” I hesitated and then pondered a moment.  “So much of what we do is a long process.  We have our students for six years and they are still a work in progress when they leave us, but cooking is immediate gratification,” I said as I admired the shrimp that were just about ready.  Soon we hung up and I was again left alone with the shrimp and my thoughts as I contemplated what it was I really loved about cooking at the end of a long day.

A wave of nostalgia for my future swept over me as I realized that this kind of cooking was really about Andrew.   Already a quarter of the way into his junior year, it hit me that in less than two years I would be cooking for one again.

This great joy of mine has an expiration date in the not too near future.

I know that this could be cause for a bit of depression, but the truth is that an expiration date is a stark reminder to fully embrace the now, and to love and cherish every bit and scrap of opportunity until that time comes.   Too often we delude ourselves into believing that life is endless and make decisions to put off living it to the fullest for an undisclosed date in the future.

But everything in life has an expiration date, and Andrew will one day move on.

So Monday night’s meal extravaganza follows Sunday’s spectacular supper and precedes Tuesday’s down-home comfort food.  Wednesday is rushed because of clarinet, but we make up for it with Sushi Thursday, which we have celebrated for almost four years now with homemade sushi rolls.  Friday is light and Saturday is homemade bread with butter and jam.  It’s a rhythm and balance that is comforting like hot biscuits on a cold Sunday morning.

There have been times in my life where I have kept a special, rare, or costly ingredient guarded for so long, worrying that I might not ever get it or afford it again, that it has gone bad before I even used a fraction of it.

That’s just no way to live.

I only have a year and a half left with my son living at home, but I plan to lick the beaters clean and scrape every last bit of cookie dough out of the bowl of life with which I have been blessed.

Expirations are inevitable, but they are crucial reminders that every moment is an opportunity to find joy.  Even on a Monday night while watching shrimp turn the color of a sunset and waiting for Andrew to walk through the door and say…

“I’m home Dad and I’m starving.  When will dinner be ready?”

Provecho!

Shrimp with Garlic and Cilantro

A recipe by Mahmous Rubyan from The Arab Table

This is an amazing recipe from one of my favorite cookbooks.  In fact, we make this so often that Andrew thinks it’s one of “our” family recipes.  For now I’m going to let him continue to think that his dad is a genius in the kitchen.  He can learn my secrets someday in the future when he goes to the blog for this recipe.  This is a very easy weeknight meal, but you have to take the time to make the spice mix in advance.  The recipe for the spice mix will last in a sealed jar for more than a year, so you only have to do this once in a while.  Serve with basmati or jasmine rice.  This is an easy recipe to cut in half if you are making dinner for only two.

Serves 6

3 T olive oil

2 lbs onions, finely chopped (this seems like a lot of onions, but it really works)

10 cloves garlic, finely chopped (she says smashed, but I’ve always minced fine)

½ tsp cardamom

1 tsp Kuwaiti Spice Mix (recipe follows)

1 pack cup chopped fresh cilantro

¼ cup chopped fresh dill

1 T salt (not a typo! I sometimes cut back and use 2 tsp, but 1 T does not overpower)

½ tsp white pepper

2 lbs shrimp, peeled and deveined

1 lemon, cut into 6 wedges

Fresh cilantro for garnish

Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over low heat and add the onions.  Don’t let them overlap too much, so you will have to use a pretty big skillet.  Cook, stirring frequently, until they release their juices and are tender, about 10 minutes or so.  Add everything but the shrimp.  Stir until the onions are coated.  Raise the heat to high, add the shrimp, and cook, stirring, until the shrimp turn the color of a Mediterranean sunset, about 8 to 10 minutes.

Transfer the shrimp and onions to a serving platter, and garnish with the lemon wedges and cilantro sprigs.

Kuwaiti Spice Mix

This makes a lot, so put it in baby food jars and give some to friends with the recipe

½ cup black pepper           

¼ cup cayenne pepper

1 ½ tsp ground coriander

1 ½ tsp ground cumin

1 ½ tsp ground ginger

1 ½ ground cinnamon

1 ½ ground cloves

1 ½ tsp grated nutmeg

Combine all the spices in a small bowl and mix well.

Not exactly sushi!

Andrew is still eating and he has learned to make a good pasta carbonara when I’m away, but I am still the designated chef!

Unfortunately, my vacations seem to be cursed and this summer was no exception.  The experience is still a little too close to calmly devise a compelling narrative, so I’ll just give you the facts.

We had an amazing opportunity to stay in a cabin at 10,000 feet above the world in a remote section of Utah this summer.  Unfortunately, soon after arriving, my left index finger was attacked by a wild hand-immersion blender (that sometimes sounds much like a bear in some retellings of this story or a trampling moose in others).  My finger was cut badly and required a seamstress to put it back together.

Of course, I was by myself when this happened.  I had dropped Andrew and two friends staying with us at a lake to fish, and I took some deserved down time to relax and fix dinner.  When the attack occurred, I had to figure out how to get myself to the ER, get the boys picked up, close up the cabin, secure the dogs, close down the kitchen, etc.  You will be happy to know that between wrapping my hand and driving 20 minutes to the ER, I was able to call my mom to pick up the boys and explain to her how to clean the blood and body parts from the mashed potatoes, spread them on top of the casserole, and bake for 20 minutes at 375!  The casserole was either bear or moose pot pie…  just depends on the day I’m telling the story.  They tell me it was really good.

The summer vacation curse, being what it is, couldn’t leave bad enough alone, and a few days later the pump in the cabin went out.  Again, the boys were fishing and I was left with my bandaged hand to clean up the flooded pump room with floating mice and debris from 10 years of empty cabin.

Yes, you’ve already guessed it; by evening the finger was infected from little splashes of dirty water that soaked into my bandages.  I stopped into the ER for some antibiotics and ended up with a pic line and six days of aggressive antibiotic treatment.

The attending nurse reassured and comforted me.  While looking at the kinds of antibiotics and dosages I was receiving she said, “Well, you sure aren’t going to die from the finger infection, but with all this antibiotic something else is going to kill you!”

I attributed her pleasent bed side manner to high altitude sickness (hers, not mine) and wide eyed, tried to relax while the antibiotics flowed for the next 4 hours into my veins and twice a day for the next 4 days.

Damned if she wasn’t on to something.  I’m now battling some other infection that nobody can figure out, but according to my mom and the internet it has the same early symptoms of Hanta virus, West Nile, Lyme Disease, Staph, Mono, Hepatitis, Herpes, Syphilis, and AIDS.  I’ve been single for so long that I think I can rule out the last three!

Well, it’s not all as bad as it sounds and my finger is on the mend.  I was able to type for the first time yesterday and I’m hopeful the good doctors of Cedars Sinai will find the infectious culprit soon.  I’m tired of seeing a clean stovetop and am ready to get out of the fire and into the frying pan.  I really do mean that as a metaphor for cooking and writing again, if the Gods of Irony are listening!

He asked me twice in the morning.

“Dad, are you my best friend?”

The first time, I thought it was Andrew being goofy.  He had asked this while passing through the kitchen on his way to something else besides food.

I answered off the cuff, “Of course, I’m your best friend.  Who else would make an extra apple tart just for you?”

I didn’t give it more thought until about twenty minutes later.  I was still in the kitchen, standing at the sink peeling apples.  He came flying through again, only this time he stopped and placed his hand on my shoulder.

“So dad, you’re my best friend?” he asked in a lighthearted, carefree way that belied the seriousness of the question.

In fact, he asked in such a way that I thought if I said, “Yes” again, the next question would be with a petition, as in “Well, if you’re my best friend, wouldn’t you want to buy me something?”

I just said, “Yep, I am your best friend,” and waited for the request to follow.

“And I’m your best friend?” came the unexpected second question.

A hundred worries suddenly rushed through my mind.  Is he asking because he is having trouble making friends?  Is he lonely? Have I not given him enough time lately?  But, deep down, I knew what he really was asking.

I would have looked at him and made him see how much I meant what I was about to say, but he had left my side and was rummaging for snack options.

I chose my words carefully, “I’ve got the best of both worlds.  You’re my son and I’m your father.  And, you are also my best friend,” I told him.

“Cool,” he said and was off to another part of the house and I was left to peel endless apples for multiple Mother’s Day tarts and think about what had just happened.

It’s true what they say, “Big things come in small packages.”

This small moment felt big.

I’ve spent a good portion of the last six years with Andrew telling him that I was his dad and not his friend.   I never said it to be mean, but to define the role that I needed to play in his life.  He didn’t need a friend.  He needed a dad, and I was very clear on what that meant for us.  I have seen first hand what happens when parents want to be their child’s best friend and it’s never good.

In one of life’s most interesting twists, it is when a child is screaming, throwing a tantrum, and raging with all their might against a set boundary that they are, in fact, really trying to say, “Please, don’t let me do this.   I’m not ready to make this decision on my own.  Please, be my parent.  Please, make me feel safe.”

Andrew has thrown man tantrums over the last six years.  He has tested me at every turn.  He needed to.  After an early childhood of adults who failed him, the world had become a scary place.  There was a reason why, until recently, Andrew slept with his Nerf guns by his bed at night.  Like I said, for Andrew the world was a scary place.

Fences keep cows and horses safe.  Leashes keep our dogs from getting hit by cars.  Boundaries and rules (that are enforced) teach children the world is safe and eventually allows them to grow into adulthood with confidence and courage.  A good safe nest is what you need to eventually fly.

That’s why Andrew’s question was so important.  He’s starting to feel like he can fly.  I have often told Andrew that we are just father and son for now, but that someday we will be father, son, and best friends.  Obviously, he was listening.

That’s also why I chose my words so carefully.  The truth is that Andrew cannot be my best friend quite yet.   He is closer than ever before.  I can see it around the corner, but not quite yet.  Andrew still has a few years to go before he’s ready for that complete evolution.

Becoming an adult is one of the most exciting times in a person’s life, but without proper guidance…   Let’s just say that Icarus would have benefited from a little more supervision and guidance.

But my little Icarus is getting darn close to flying, and he knows that when he does our relationship will fundamentally change.

Still for now, he lets me keep the tether on.  He moans when I tell him to do his homework or practice his clarinet, but he still does it.  There are moments when he tugs harder than I like, but more and more, when I know it’s safe, I will just let go of the leash all together and hope that I’ve done a good enough job at this parenting thing.

Lately, when I do release control, he makes the right choices, takes a beautiful flight of independence, and comes back to rest by my side, content to be led a bit more and happy that someone is still there to catch him if his wings are still a bit too wet for full flight.

So are we best friends?   Well, there’s no one I would rather spend my time with than Andrew.  But he still needs a dad more than a friend.  For that I’m very grateful, because the very moment when we become best friends will be the moment when we have to say goodbye and he will take off on the adventure of a lifetime.

In this hectic time of our lives there are few things that we can count on.  Our sushi night is one of them.  Even our foray into “veganism” for Lent was negotiated with Thursday nights remaining constant.  It has become the one night each week that I actually get Andrew into the kitchen and we cook together.  And we do it on Thursday because that’s when our local Farmer’s Market happens and we get Sushi grade Ahi, Yellow Tail, and Salmon for less than $15 per pound.

Sushi is Andrew’s favorite food and it was the first food that he discovered on his own.  We were at a local shopping mall’s food court with another family, and their older daughter gave Andrew a piece of her sushi; Andrew was hooked….hook, line, and sinker.  That year for Christmas he bought “me” a how-to-make sushi cookbook and all the equipment we needed for success.  Sushi rolls are not hard to make, but with a little practice they are so simple that you can turn out enough rolls to feed a kid with a Samori’s appetite in less than twenty minutes, if you don’t count the rice cooking time.

This recipe is based on one that I found in BonAppetit some time ago.  It has evolved from something that I do by hand to a quick swirl in the food processor.  It works equally well with Ahi, Yellowtail, Salmon, and Opah.  For a very easy and excellent vegan version, substitute extra firm tofu that has been well drained.

2 jalapeno chiles, seeded

1 tablespoon, plus 1 teaspoon grated peeled fresh ginger

1 tablespoon toasted sesame seeds

2 garlic cloves 1 teaspoon salt

1/4 cup vegetable oil

2 teaspoons toasted sesame oil

1 teaspoon rice vinegar (or white if you don’t have rice vinegar on hand)

1 pound fresh Ahi, Yellowtail, Salmon, Opah (or tofu for vegan option), cut into small dice

Dried Nori sheets for sushi rolls (that’s the green seaweed paper)

1-1/2 cups cooked short-grain rice, cooled. (I have Andrew cook it when he gets home from school so it’s ready to go when I get home)

Avocado slices (optional)

4 tablespoons sushi seasoning from a bottle or follow recipe below.

Recipe for sushi seasoning:

4 tablespoons rice vinegar, seasoned

2 tablespoons sugar

1 teaspoon salt

For Sushi seasoning

Bring ingredients to a simmer, stir, take off the heat and cool.

Cook the rice according to instructions or use the sushi setting on a rice cooker.  When the rice is finished, transfer to a large bowl, toss with the sushi seasoning and let cool to room temperature.

Meanwhile…

In a food processor, place the first five ingredients and chop finely.  With the motor running add the oils and vinegar in a steady stream and process until well blended.  Alternatively, this can be done by hand in a mortar and pestle.  If using, start with sesame seeds, then add garlic and salt, then jalepenos, and finally ginger.  Transfer to a bowl and add the liquid ingredients in a slow stream and whisk together.

Dice the fish and toss with the sauce.

Place a Nori sheet on your bamboo sushi mat (we cover ours with plastic wrap for easy clean up) and using a sushi rice paddle spread a thin layer of rice across the sheet.  Make sure that you have smashed a little rice at the far edge of your Nori sheet as that will act as a paste and help seal the roll when you are finished rolling.

Place about 3 tablespoons of the fish mixture across the bottom edge closest to you.  Lay a scallion slice, a cucumber slice, and avocado if  using.

Gently roll the bamboo mat and sushi away from you into the first turn. Gently, but firmly, massage the roll into a tight cylinder.  Continue to roll and massage until you have a tight roll.  Slice the roll into 1/2 inch pieces and serve with a little soy sauce and wasabi if desired.

Don’t worry that your first attempts will be a bit messy.  This is easy to get the hang of and very quickly you will be a sushi pro.

Provecho!

Mexican Lasagna with Greens and chipotle tomato sauce

I just dropped off Andrew at 4:15 a.m. for the bus that is going to take him to the starting line of the Los Angeles Marathon where at 15 years old he will run a race that will hopefully become a living metaphor of all the possibilities that life has to hold for him.

He and a friend decided they were going to do this back in August and started training with their high school branch of Students Run Los Angeles (SRLA), and they have definitely put in many miles.  In combination with cross country and track,  he has easily run nearly 500 miles since the day he came home last summer and collapsed after his first three-mile run.

It is exactly seven years ago this weekend that I became Andrew’s dad, and I couldn’t imagine a better way to celebrate this journey we have taken together.  As I watch my son turn into a man before my very eyes like a lapse-time video of a budding flower, I can hardly remember the spastic, uncontrollable man cub that terrorized cats and dogs and put fear into the hearts of many a teacher and family member.  There was a well-deserved reason that early on my friends called him Mowgli, but he has long left the jungle and earned my deepest respect and admiration for his ability to accomplish the goals to which he sets his mind.

That’s not to say that raising Andrew has suddenly become easy.  I have come to accept that it is always going to have its challenges.  Fatherhood is much like running a marathon with Andrew as my coach.   He has put me through my paces and whipped me into the kind of man who can confidently push on when we hit one of the many “walls” that make up this beautiful race.

I see this tenacity and perseverance in him in other areas of his life as well.  I can’t help feel a bit guilty for pulling him into our vegan Lenten journey at the very time he’s been training for this race, but he has stuck to it even when he knows that he has the best excuse in the world to break from it.

That’s not to say that he hasn’t thought about it.

I asked him what he wanted for his celebration dinner and the first thing out of his mouth was “Spaghetti Carbonara,” our pre-vegan feast of bacon, eggs, and cheese.  Since then, however, he has slowly been working out his desire for meat with his desire to stick to our meatless goal and has moved from carbonara, to steak, then chicken, and then suddenly last night he said he wasn’t sure if he wanted meat at all.  Right now he has decided on sushi, but I have a feeling he may want to stay the course and I have all the makings for Pasta Puttanesca with olives, tomatoes and capers on hand just in case.

There’s just nothing that can beat the feeling of setting a lofty goal and reaching it.   That is a lesson that can only be learned on your own.  As parents we can encourage our children to do their best, but it has to come from within them for it to count.  I had to get up before the sun every weekend to drive him to his training run, but he was always up before me and was ready when I rolled out of bed and “slept drove” him to the school.  I have to have everything on hand to make a vegan Lent possible, but it’s up to him what choices he makes with the nine hours each day he’s on his own.

We live in a world where parents are more involved in their children’s lives than at anytime in the history of mankind.  In this day and age of “helicopter” parenting, watching Andrew become a reliable and independent young man has taught me that when you hover above your child it only serves to keep them from spreading their own wings.  Today’s marathon is as much a powerful metaphor for Andrew and his future as it is for me and my changing role as his father.

So today I’m going to stand on the sidelines and cheer him on at intervals throughout the course of the marathon and watch him spread his wings and soar.  The training wheels are off and in the blink of an eye he will be out of sight and his real life’s journey will have begun.

P.S.  Andrew finished the marathon today in 4 hours and 12 seconds.  He cramped up at mile 24.5 and had to be iced.  They told him to walk the rest of the way in, but he got up and started running and didn’t stop until he crossed the finish line.  He also didn’t take off his medal until he went to bed…  He may even be wearing it as he sleeps tonight!

___________________________________________________________________

Mexican Lasagna with Greens and Chipotle Tomato Sauce

Rich without dairy

Andrew training for the marathon while on a vegan diet had me worried for a while, but the truth is that getting the right amount of protein has been easy with an increase in beans, lentils, and tofu in our diet.  Vegetables have been even easier.  We belong to a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) that delivers a giant bag of local organic produce every Friday and it’s all we can do to get through it all before the next bag arrives.  The hardest part is coming up with dishes that use the ingredients currently being harvested at the farm.  This time of year means that we have been getting tons of kale, chard, spinach, and collard greens.   Popeye would be happy, but I have to get inventive to satisfy the hungry carbo-loading runner here at the house.   In fact, we have been doing so much carbo-loading the last few days that if I don’t see pasta for a while, it will be quite all right with me.  Here’s a dish based on a recipe from Rick Bayless’ s Mexican Kitchen cookbook that let me use up some of my veggie bag and get a nod of approval from the peanut gallery.

There are a few different components to this dish, but the sauce can be made days ahead and kept in the fridge until ready to use which will make putting this together easier.  This sauce also makes a great cooking medium for shrimp and other seafood.  It’s very popular in Veracruz where I learned to make it and is one of my favorites.

Chipotle tomato sauce

5 pounds tomatoes

12 to 15 garlic cloves, roughly chopped

1 can chipotle chiles in adobo (yes one whole can) The chiles are easily found in the latin section of any super market)

1 ½ to 2 teaspoons salt

¼ cup olive oil

For lasagna filling

1 large onion, diced

1 large bunch Swiss chard, stems separated from leaves

1 bunch Kale, spinach, or other green you may like or have on hand, stems separeted from leaves

2 cloves garlic, diced

1 cup cooked or canned beans (I used garbanzos, but black beans would work well), roughly chopped

3 Poblano chiles, smoked, stemmed, seeded, and cut into strips

Salt

Pepper

16 corn tortillas

½ cup vegetable oil (not olive)

1 (8 ounce) bag Daiya dairy free cheddar style cheese (or real cheese if you eat it)

1 ¼ cups jalapeno salsa (optional) See note

Chipotle tomato sauce

You can roast the tomatoes under a hot broiler for about 6 minutes until they start to blacken or boil them for 3 or 4 minutes until the skin splits and the tomatoes just start to cook.  Either way, let them cool, remove the skin, and put in a blender.  While the tomatoes cool, sauté the garlic in the oil until they give off their fragrance and start to just turn color.

Remove them from the heat and pour garlic and oil in with the tomatoes, add the chipotle chiles and 1 teaspoon salt.  Blend to make a sauce.  Pour the sauce into a skillet and cook on medium until it begins to thicken, about 10 minutes.  Adjust with more salt to taste up to another teaspoon.  The sauce is ready to use or can be refrigerated for up to a couple of weeks until ready to use.

Note on Chipotle Chiles:  If you are sensitive to heat, start with half a can and work your way up.  In Mexico, they would use many more than one can (see photo).

Making it in Mexico: I don't suggest starting at real Mexican level of heat:

Note: Green Jalapeno salsa

You don’t need it, but I always have it on hand and finish the dish off with it because Andrew likes the flavor.  If you don’t use it, just top off the lasagna with red sauce.  It will be just as good.  I used ¼ cup in my greens as well, but again, that was because it was on hand.

To make saute 12 jalapenos in about 1/2 cup olive oil with 4 or five cloves garlic unti lightly browned.  Pour everything into a blender and  and add 2 tsp Knorr Suisa and salt to taste.  Add water to get the water down the consistancy if it’s too thick.  It’s hot and delicious.

The filling

Wash the greens very carefully in a salad spinner and cut the stems away from the leaves.  Finely dice the stems (like you would an onion) and roughly chop the leaves.

Heat two tablespoons of olive oil in a large sauté pan and add the onion and stems from the greens.  Cook over medium heat until the onions are clear and the stems soften, about 10 minutes.

Chard Stems saute beautifully with onions

Add the garlic and beans and cook for a couple of minutes more.  Add the green leaves and a little vegetable stock or water to moisten the greens.  It will seem like a lot of greens at first, but they quickly cook down.  Season with salt and pepper and set aside to cool.

Ready for the lasagna

The poblanos

If you have a gas stove, place chiles directly on the burner and char completely on all sides.

Charring the Chile

When blackened, remove with tongs from the burner and place in a paper bag for 10 minutes or so.  Remove the chiles from the bag and run under cold water to remove all the blackened skin.  The stem and seeds are easily removed under the water as well.  Cut the poblanos in strips, but keep each chile separate for measuring purposes.

The tortillas

Heat ½ cup oil in a pan until very hot.  You will see the oil shimmer.   Using tongs, quickly dip the tortillas one at a time into the hot oil for just a few seconds per side.  The object is to soften them and fry them just enough to not fall apart when baked.  After you take them out, drain them on a cookie rack lined with paper towels.  Cut them in half when cool enough to handle.

Putting it all together

Turn the oven to 350 degrees.  Lightly grease a 13 x 9-inch baking dish.  Spread a thin layer of the red sauce over the bottom,

Finger licking good sauce

then lay out 8 tortilla halves in a single layer.

Evenly spread 1/3 of the greens over the tortillas, top with Poblano chile strips,

1 ½ cups red salsa, and an even layer of cheese.

Top with another layer of tortillas, 1/3 greens, Poblano chile, 1 ½ cup salsa, and a layer of cheese.  Top with a third layer of tortillas and repeat.  Finish by toping of the dish with the last layer of tortillas and the rest of the red salsa or green salsa, if using, and one more layer of cheese.

Cover with foil and bake for 25 minutes.  Uncover and bake an additional 10 to 15 minutes.

Let stand a few minutes before cutting and serve.  Just as good or better the next day.

Provecho!

Hummus and whole wheat pita: a perfect after school snack

Hummus is one of Andrew’s favorite snacks.  In fact, I knew I had raised a foodie one day a few years after he came to live with me.  I was in a hurry one morning and had asked him to make his own sandwich.  When I came into the kitchen, I found him beaming over his creation.

“What kind of sandwich did you make?” I asked him while I was spinning around trying to get ready for work.

“It’s a hummus, pine nut, paprika, and gruyere sandwich with a little walnut oil!” he proudly stated.

After that he put hummus on everything.

Now, five years later, he still likes hummus spread on his sandwich and will reach for it first thing after he walks in the door from school.

Hummus is one of those things that is so easy to grab at the store that most people will never find out how good homemade hummus can be.  As with all legumes, it does take a little forethought, but not that much effort.  Andrew prefers the homemade hummus and so will you.

Equipment needed:  Food processor

Hummus

For the beans:

1 pound dried chickpeas (garbanzos)

4 cups low or no-sodium vegetable stock

4 cups water

1 onion, cut into quarters or just halved

3 or 4 garlic cloves

3 bays leaves

3 or 4 sprigs parsley, tied in a bundle

Soak the chickpeas 8 hours or overnight, drain.  Place all the ingredients in a large stock pot, add enough water to cover the beans; bring to a boil, and then lower heat and simmer for 1-1/2 hours.  Remove the beans from the heat and drain into a colander over a bowl to capture all the stock.  Put the stock back into the stock pot and set aside.  Remove the parsley, bay leaves, and any large pieces of onion from the beans.

Fill the bowl with cold water and submerge the beans.

Now, with your hands, grab handfuls of beans and rub them between your palms to loosen the outer skins.  The skins will fall off and float  above the beans making it easy to scoop them out.  This is an important step if you want an extra smooth hummus.  However, it can be frustrating as no matter how many times you rub the beans, you always find more skins.  A good friend told me he did it for an hour one time to make sure he got every skin!  My suggestion is that you do it for about five minutes to get the bulk of them and then forget about it.

Place the beans back into the stock and simmer until very tender.  About a half hour more, but check occasionally.

Nothing beats homemade

Hummus spread

1 recipe cooked chickpeas or 3 ((15oz) cans, drained

1/2 cup tahini paste

2 or 3 garlic cloves

1 teaspoon cumin (start with 1/2 and add more to taste)

2 to 3 teaspoons smoky paprika

Juice of one lemon

1-1/2 teaspoons salt or to taste

1/2 teaspoon ground pepper

A handful of pinenuts

Reserved bean stock

Olive oil

Place the garlic and the beans in the food processor and grind until you get a fairly smooth mixture.   Add the rest of the ingredients, except the stock,and blend.  Slowly add stock until you get the consistency that you like, but remember that you will want it a little wetter as it will firm up considerably in the fridge.

When ready to serve, just drizzle it with a bit of olive oil and garnish with pine nuts.

Provecho!

Can a better pancake be made without milk and eggs?

After our first 4 days of being vegans, Andrew and I were really in need of some comfort food.  I wanted to make something for him that would make this change not quite so drastic and give him hope that he could actually do it.  I knew that he would love my grandmother’s pancakes (“Dad’s Buttermilk Pancakes, February 2011), but they had eggs and buttermilk.  I wondered if there were some way to turn them into vegans too.  I got up early and started researching some alternatives for eggs and found out that there are some really good substitutions.  The key is to know what their function is in a particular recipe.

In pancakes, eggs act as a binder and do not add leavening power as I had expected.  It turns out that 1/3 cup pumpkin puree (the kind you use for pumpkin pies) is the equivalent of one egg when used as a binder.  Having settled that, I switched out the buttermilk for almond milk and hoped that it would provide the right consistency.  Next, I switched the white flour for whole wheat and lo and behold, I had just recreated my grandmother’s pancakes in an all plant-based recipe.  Not willing to leave well enough alone, I decided that a handful of walnuts would be a good fit with the pumpkin.

I was right on all accounts.  The pancakes are dense, but light and really, really good.   And truth be told…  I like these better than our regular Saturday recipe and so does Andrew.  Sorry Grandma!

Seriously good pancakes

Cornmeal pumpkin pancakes with toasted walnuts

1/3 cup pumpkin puree

1 1/4 cups vanilla or regular almond milk

1 tablespoon molasses

1/4 cup corn or canola oil (we use olive oil these days and love it)

3/4 cup yellow corn meal

3/4 cup whole wheat flour

1 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon baking powder

½ cup toasted walnuts, chopped

Mix almond milk, pumpkin, oil, and molasses together.  Put the rest of the ingredients through a sifter and into the bowl; mix.  Cook in vegan butte

You won't have any left overs with this pasta!

Last night my good friend stopped by and talked with me as I cooked the evening meal.   He curiously inspected the cupboards and every inch of the refrigerator looking for signs of heretical ingredients and hidden hypocrisy lurking on packaging information that we may have missed during our Lenten exorcism of all things non-vegan.

Almost ready to give up, he suddenly rang out with “Xanthum Gum!” an ingredient he had found on the label of our Trader Joe’s almond milk.

“That can’t be any good for fighting cancer!” he triumphantly declared.

“I thought it was from Xanadu,” I blithely replied, a little annoyed at his petite inquisition on our kitchen.

It’s interesting how when you start a new regimen or try to create a new good habit or quit an old bad one that others are threatened by your attempt to change your ways.

“You know, you aren’t supposed to have any oil on the Chinese Diet.  Everyone that I know that’s on it says you can’t have any oil,” he pointed out for the third or fourth time since we started just a week ago.

I just shrugged my shoulders as I continued cutting away at vegetables and without looking at him I calmly said, “Yeah, that may be.  I don’t really know.  I haven’t read the book.  We’re not doing the Chinese Diet, we’re just keeping to a plant-based one.”

I found it strange that he was so concerned about the orthodoxy of our approach, but I think I understand.  My initial motivation for a change came from watching the documentary “Forks Over Knives” and its hopeful message that cancer, diabetes, heart disease, and other modern plagues could be cured or controlled with diet and The China Diet Study was a big part of the movie.  If the documentary is correct, then it is an enormous indictment on way we eat.

My good friend lives an envious life where his job allows him to eat at the very best restaurants in Los Angeles multiple nights each week and seeing mounds of vegetables going into a plant-based, whole-grain meal was a stark reminder that his lifestyle was perhaps not a good fit for a family history rife with heart disease.   I figured that finding a flaw with our approach would let him off the hook of facing the need to change his own ways.

Our talk turned to other topics and as I continued to chop, little colorful mounds of diced vegetables grew into a spectacular mise en place (the French term for having everything cut and prepared before you start cooking).

My friend examined the chopping block and suddenly stopped.

“Those are the same ingredients my mom used in her Chicken Curry!” he burst out, but then quietly and more somberly added, “that makes me sad and makes me miss my mom.”

It made me miss his mom too.  She had inspired me in so many ways when she was alive, but nowhere as much as experiencing her joy of being in the kitchen and cooking for her family and friends.

That’s when I realized why it’s so hard for us to give up our strong beliefs and feelings about what we eat.

Our feelings about food are largely about experience and memory.

Just the smell of fried chicken will instantly put me back in my grandmother’s kitchen, sitting at her Formica table and my grandpa’s ball game droning on in the background.   That’s a memory that I never want to lose.  It’s also a feeling I want to recreate for my own son and somehow think of him passing it on to his children.

It’s no wonder that faced with the sobering possibility of premature death, my brother and almost everyone else in the world, still finds it hard or impossible to make a change in regards to diet.  That’s why I, with an ever increasing waistline, could still slather my crusty Tuscan bread with duck fat before I grilled it and called it breakfast!

Food is more than life.  It’s our lives.  What else is there in the human experience, except for breathing and sleeping, that we are compelled to do almost continuously from the day we are born until the day we die?

It is also what we do in communion with others.  There is a tacit agreement when we sit at table and break bread or cut meat that our lives, our histories, our memories are somehow connected to each other.  We understand each other when we sit at the table together.

When we change that paradigm, we upset the balance between friends, families, and lovers.

More than fear that my diet should somehow influence him, my friend searched my cupboards trying to make sure I hadn’t thrown out over thirty years of shared experiences and memories with the chicken stock.

It’s the same reason many vegetarians and vegans go to great lengths to find dishes that feel meaty, fake cheeses that taste and melt cheesy, and non-dairy milk that tastes as good in a bowl of cereal as it works in a favorite baked good.

It’s why I drove all over town looking for Seitan, a great wheat based meat substitute.  I wanted our meals to taste and feel like the ones at my mother’s table or like the first meals that I ever cooked for Andrew.

Who knows, maybe Xanthum Gum really does come from Xanadu.  It surely has helped Andrew and me make a drastic transition into the future without having to let go of a past that holds our dearest and most cherished memories of how we became father and son.

This pasta comes together fast, so have all your ingredients ready

This has a long list of ingredients, but it comes together very quickly on a school night when time is important.  If you live near a Trader Joe’s, all the ingredients will be very easy to find.  There are many versions of this type of Asian-influenced peanut butter pasta, but I wanted something with a lot of flavor and enough vegetables to feel like I had served a nutritional meal.  The combo of quickly cooked broccoli and asparagus tips works nicely with the fresh crunch of the raw veggies.  Andrew ate about half-a-pound of the dish and took leftovers to school for lunch for the first time.  It’s what he calls a winner.  I think you will like it too.

Asian Style Peanut Butter Pasta

Serves 4 as a main course

1 pound whole wheat spaghetti

Sauce:

4 cloves garlic

1 jalapeno pepper (or 3 or 4 small Thai chiles)

1 generous teaspoon fresh grated ginger

½ cup peanut butter, creamy or chunky

2 tablespoons soy sauce

½ cup light coconut milk

1 tablespoon rice wine vinegar

1 tablespoon brown sugar (optional, depending on the sweetness of the peanut butter)

1 tablespoon sesame oil

½ teaspoon salt

½ teaspoon pepper

1 package Seitan, a wheat-based meat substitute, cut into 1 inch pieces

Vegetables:  (These can vary by season or what’s in the fridge, but broccoli and asparagus are a really good match.

1 small head of broccoli, cut into florets

1 bunch asparagus, tips and part of stalk (see note)

1 carrot, grated

3 or 4 scallions (green onions), chopped or julienned

1 cucumber, seeded and diced

1 jalapeno, diced fine

A handful of peanuts, chopped

¼ cup Cilantro, chopped

Note:  If using Asparagus, cut the tips off and then cut the stalks on a diagonal slant.  Use only the tender upper parts if the stalks are thick.

In a food processor or blender, add the garlic, jalapeno, ginger and process until finely chopped.  Add the rest of the sauce ingredients and blend until smooth.  Check for seasoning and add more jalapeno or chiles if you like a spicier sauce.

Pour the mixture into a saucepan, add the Seitan, and heat over medium until the sauce is smooth and creamy and the Seitan is heated through.

Meanwhile bring a large salted pot of water to boil.  When boiling, add the broccoli and asparagus tips and cook for 1 to 2 minutes.  Remove them from the water and place in a bowl of cold water to stop the cooking process.

Return the pot to a boil and cook the pasta according to the directions.

Drain the pasta when done, but keep about a cup of the pasta water.

Toss the pasta with all the sauce and all the ingredients and add some pasta water if it seems too thick.

Sprinkle with cilantro.

Provecho!

Lentil and Multi-Grain Chili: Mighty meaty with no meat

Kermit said it best: “It’s not easy being green.”

Last Tuesday night we said “goodbye” to all things animal.  We didn’t let go easy and we celebrated Fat Tuesday and the days proceeding up to it with spaghetti carbonara, hamburgers, duck liver pate, and enough eggs, white flour, and sugar to build a small gingerbread village.  To be truthful, I was looking forward to Ash Wednesday morning and the ensuing sobriety of becoming a Vegan.

I probably gained five pounds getting ready for the culinary makeover, but when I woke up Wednesday morning and called myself a Vegan for the first time, I felt like I could already put on my skinny jeans again.   (And when I say skinny jeans, I’m not referring to the pencil leg style you see on high school students and affluent PTA meetings moms, but the ones at the bottom of the stack that haven’t seen the light of day for a couple of years or more).

I also felt prepared for the extra work that changing a diet takes.  I had spent the three-day weekend carefully mapping out a couple of weeks worth of recipes and had made extensive grocery lists on a new App for my Ipad.  I calendared out when we would eat which recipes and on what days I needed to buy certain ingredients to make sure they were fresh.  I even planned for the Saturday closures of my local kosher markets that have many non-dairy and vegetable-based meat substitutes because of religious dietary laws against using dairy and meat together in a meal.

“Be Prepared” was the Boy Scout Motto I had learned early in life, and I felt like I was well on my way to earning my Vegan merit badge.

The day started off great.   We had oatmeal with almond milk with just a touch of agave syrup to sweeten it up a bit.   For lunch I had already prepared whole-wheat sandwiches with avocado, lettuce, Tofurky, and soy cheese slices.  I really didn’t want to start using processed foods, especially since we didn’t use them BV (Before Vegan), but I needed a few transitional items that could make the first few weeks workable for a single dad.  For dinner I had planned a lentil and whole grain chili that sounded really good and filling.

That was 7:00 am.

As my mother always says, “the best laid plans of mice and men… “  I know there is more to the saying, but she’s never said it.  Still we get her meaning.

By 8:15 a.m. I was thrown into a whirlwind day that included back-to-back meetings from 8:30 am to 4:30 p.m.  I snacked on Marcona almonds in between appointments and ate my Vegan sandwich while teachers shared their lesson plans.   By the time my last meeting was over, I was starting to get hungry, but still had our school’s science fair at 5:00 p.m.  With our Ash Wednesday service beginning at 8:00 p.m., I was starting to wonder how I would pull off dinner.

I knew Andrew would be starving when he got home and hoped he would reach for the apples and peanut butter or hummus I had left him.  These kinds of overbooked days happen, but throwing a quick hamburger on the grill was not an option and all my vegan meal planning involved at least some time in the kitchen.

I had to make a quick decision.

At 6:30 p.m., I drove straight to the Veggie Grill, a fast food style Vegan restaurant and $30 later I had dinner on the table in time to get us to church.   The food was tasty, but the extra hit at the wallet didn’t go down very easy.  To make matters worse, the following day was just as bad.  Not only did I have meetings until 4:30 p.m., Andrew had his Orchestra Concert and had to be at school by 6:00 p.m.  Veggie Grill was an option, but not for me.  It wasn’t just the money; Vegan or not, I didn’t really think it was all that healthy.

We had started out on this path to increase our awareness of better nutrition and to challenge my brother to look at alternative cancer treatments and so far all we had done was eat processed vegetable-based junk food.   It is possible to eat nothing but French fries and soy lattes and still call yourself a Vegan, but I would think a sustainably and humanely raised egg omelet would be a better choice for all involved.

However, I wasn’t ready to give up quite yet.

I looked at my recipe for the chili and realized that I could do almost all the prep work ahead of time.  I put the seasonings in one baggy, the veggies in another and poured a bit of olive oil into a small Tupperware container.  I put it in my cast iron pot and brought the whole thing to school with me the next day.  I still had to eat my sandwich on the run, but I took enough of a break to head to our school kitchen and ensure that dinner would be ready when I got home.  The whole thing took less than 15 minutes to put together and I left the pot on low while I attended my other meetings.  By the time I was ready to leave, the school cafeteria smelled better than it had in a long time and I had a warm pot of chili ready for the table.

I was home by 5:15 p.m. and dropping Andrew off at the high school by 6:00 p.m. with a belly full of homemade plant-based food that he loved enough to eat again the following night when my school meetings lasted until 10:00 p.m.

No, it’s not easy being green.  It’s even harder when you are a single parent with a demanding job, but we just got through three days of crazy scheduling and managed to stay the course.

By the way, the chili is delicious.  It’s also very easy.  Serve it with some Vegan cheese on top and a big leafy salad and I guarantee that you will have a very satisfying family dinner.   The chewiness of the barley and bulgur wheat give it such a hearty texture and meaty chew that even your hardcore carnivores won’t mind the absence of animals in the pot.

You won't miss the meat!

Lentil and Grain Chili

This recipe is based on a non-vegan version from The Olive’s Table.  It is already very “meaty”, but if you want an even more meaty texture add a package of Seitan.  Seitan is a wheat based meat replacement that mimics the feel of meat and takes on the taste of a dish much like chicken does.  You can find it at Whole Foods and other well-stocked grocery stores.

Serves 6-8

1 tablespoon olive oil

2 tablespoons chopped peeled fresh ginger

6 garlic cloves, chopped

1 large Spanish onion, chopped

3 medium carrots, peeled and chopped

2 celery stalks, copped

1 jalapeno, seeded and minced

2 chipotle peppers, seeded and minced

1 (20 ounce) can crushed tomatoes

2 to 3 tablespoons chili powder (3 to 4 for a spicier version)

1 tablespoon ground cumin

1 tablespoon chopped fresh oregano leaves or 1 teaspoon dried oregano

2 cups brown lentils, rinsed and picked over

1 can garbanzo, drained

1/2 cup barley

1/2 cup bulgur wheat

8 to 10 cups vegetable broth

1 teaspoon kosher salt

1/2 teaspoon black pepper

Place a large stockpot over medium heat and when it is hot, add the olive oil.  Add the ginger, garlic, onion, carrots, and celery, stirring well after each addition, and cook until the vegetables are soft, about 10 minutes.

Add the jalapeno pepper, chipotle peppers, tomatoes, chili powder, cumin, oregano, lentils, garbanzos, barley, bulgur wheat, stock, salt, and pepper, stirring well after each addition, increase the heat to high, and bring to a boil.  Reduce the heat to low and cook until the lentils are soft, about 1 hour.

Top each serving with a sprinkle of shredded soy mozzarella and a dollop of non-dairy sour cream.

Provecho!

Spaghetti Carbonara: Putting the fat back into Fat Tuesday!

Five years ago when I asked Andrew what he wanted to give up for Lent, he immediately answered, “meat!”

I broke out in a sweat.

“You can’t give up meat,” I told him.

“Why not?  I want to give up meat!” he rebounded with growing enthusiasm now that I was against it.

I started to dig in my heels too. “Well, for one thing, if you give up meat then I have to give it up and there’s no way I’m going to give it up.”

He followed with the logical, “You don’t have to give it up if I do.  You can give up something else.”

I was started to get upset.  “Who do you think is going to cook your meals?  I’m not going to cook two separate meals everyday!”

I know too many parents with kids who had turned vegetarian or even worse, vegan.  They all lamented how they had to cook multiple meals to satisfy all the needs of their family.   I barely have time to cook one evening meal.  There was no way I was going to start a new career as a short-order cook.

Besides, I can barely tolerate my friends who play around the edges of this cultish behavior by only eating fish.  They call themselves “Pescatarians” and even the name sounds vaguely like a new-age religion that requires some form of Kool-Aid drinking.   Vegetarianism was going too far and Veganism would be worse than having Andrew don Hari Krishna robes and dance in the streets.  I could clearly picture the cult deprogrammers snatching him up into a van and locking him in a meat-packing plant until he came to his senses and ate a hamburger.

The problem was that Andrew’s request made sense.  Lent is a time where giving up something important helps you to see life through different lenses.  We eat meat and, if the truth be told, we probably eat more than our fair share.  If Andrew were going to pick something that was meaningful and an actual sacrifice, meat would be a great option.

I made a quick decision and offered a compromise, “How about we give up meat, but we can still eat fish?  We’ll be Pescatarians for Lent!”

He liked the name, but…

With a bit more heated exchange, Andrew agreed and a family tradition was born.  We have converted to “Pescatarianism” every Lent since that time, and it has become one of my most cherished times of the year.

Sometimes, though, Lent comes early.  For my family, Lent came very early this year.  It came before Christmas.

My brother found out that his cancer had come back for a third time.   He was whisked into surgery within days of the diagnosis and had two tumors removed.  One was the size of a small soccer ball.   Now, six weeks after surgery he has started his Chemotherapy.  There’s nothing like the big C to get you into reflection mode.  Even for those of us not diagnosed.

This weekend we got the first “Uncle Fester Bald and Beautiful” photo, and I know that many in the family are going to shave their heads in solidarity.   I love my brother, but I have a not so irrational fear that what hair I have left may not come back so I’m not giving up my hair for Lent.

Instead, we’re going to give up what I fear losing even more than my hair:  being a carnivore.   And we’re taking it a step further. We’re going to become Vegans.  That means a wholly plant-based diet without any animal byproducts.

Translation?  No meat, cheese, butter, milk, eggs; not even honey.  We’re also giving up all things white which means many kinds of pasta and flour products.

It may sound like an odd way to support my brother.  However, there is research starting to emerge with some evidence that a radical change to a plant-based, macrobiotic-type diet can turn back the tide on cancer and even eliminate it from the body that we challenged him to make this radical change.   The research is still in its infancy and much of it is anecdotal, but if changing your diet could save your life and let you live to hold your grandkids, then it’s worth a try.

My whole family has been hounding my brother to radically change his 48-year-old traditions and that’s easier said than done when you’ve lived your life as a gun slinging, NRA card-carrying, large animal hunter and carnivore deluxe.

So Andrew and I challenged him to let go of some of his cherished beliefs, and we will support him by doing the same.   This time it was my idea, but Andrew signed up right away.   For the next forty days I will be posting more than usual.   The posts won’t be long essays about life with Andrew, but more of a record of the challenges and recipes that we find along our Lenten journey as we confront a new life as Vegans.  We hope the recipes give my brother some good tasting, meat free, meal ideas and incentive to make the change.  We also hope to learn a thing or two about how to live our lives when we leave our Lenten time of restraint and reflection.

We invite you to journey with us and hope that you enjoy some of the recipes along the way.  This is going to be the biggest culinary challenge since Andrew came to live with me and the truth is I’m more than a bit nervous.  But it’s not Lent quite yet, so please indulge me in one more Mardi Gras worthy recipe.

Spaghetti Carbonara

This is better than bacon and eggs for breakfast.  It’s also got enough calories and fat to stop a heart in its track, so I wouldn’t suggest it for everyday fare.  However, this is Andrew’s current favorite meal.  It’s also the one meal that he has learned by heart and can make when I can’t cook dinner.   I told him that when he’s older and coming home late after a night of dancing that he could really win the heart of any girl if he could whip up a quick batch of Carbonara.  I guess that was all the incentive he needed.

This is a very fast and easy meal to throw together at the last minute and with the exception of  using the more exotic meat choices of pancetta or guanciale, you will most likely have everything on hand after a night of dancing or just a late night at work.

1 pound spaghetti

½ pound bacon (or pancetta or guanciale: see note)

5 cloves garlic divided 3 and 2, chopped

½ cup dry white wine

3 eggs

¾ cup Parmesan, shredded

½ cup Pecorino Romano cheese, shredded

Salt

Pepper

This is a dinner that comes together fast, so it’s important to have all the ingredients prepped before you start.

Warm a large bowl with hot water or place in a warm oven.

Mix the eggs, three cloves of diced garlic and the cheese in a small bowl.

Bring a large pot of salted water to boil and when ready boil the pasta for 10 minutes or al dente.

Meanwhile, sauté the bacon in a medium-hot pan until it starts to brown and just starts to crisp.  Throw in two cloves of diced garlic.  Sauté until it gives off its fragrance.  Throw in the white wine and let it boil off a bit and becomes syrupy.  Turn off the heat.

Just before the pasta is finished, dry the bowl if you used water to warm and pour the egg mixture into it.   Drain the pasta and put it in the bowl and toss until the pasta is well coated.  Pour the bacon mixture onto the pasta and toss again.  You may need to add a bit more salt depending on how salty the bacon is.  Give a really good grinding of pepper and you’re finished.   Serve it with a sprinkling of Parmesan and parsley.

Provecho!

Note:  This dish originated in Rome and was originally made with guanciale, or cured pork jowl.  You can now find it in the U.S., but it’s still not a staple.  Good pancetta, Italian bacon, works well also.  However, bacon is really good too.  You really can’t go wrong with any of these.

Make this French apple tart and feel like a pastry chef!

I think I’m going to pick a fight with my son; it shouldn’t be too hard.  I’ll stand at his bedroom door while he does his homework and preach to him about the evil effects of multitasking and media on concentration.  He hates that conversation and I can usually get him worked up into a pretty good frenzy when I bring in my bonus round of research data.  If I can just get him to be rude or defiant, I might have enough emotional fodder for a really good blog entry.  The problem is that I’ve been losing that argument lately.  He just pulls out his consistently A papers and tests that are shoved deep into his backpack at the end of the school day, puts his headphones back on, and quietly continues working

Perhaps, I’ll get him up early and needle him about eating breakfast, making his lunch, and point out that even though he did all the dishes last night, he forgot to wipe out the sink and finish the job.  I’ll follow up with a good threat about not getting his allowance.

Wow, that just sounds grouchy and mean when I put it on paper.  I can’t believe I even think that, let alone say it outloud.

I could yell at him to make his bed, but he’s probably already finished that task.

I almost got him last night.  We both got home from school at the same time to find that the dogs had knocked over the garbage for the second time this week.  That used to be Truman, our Labrador’s specialty, but our new German Shepherd, Maggie, has taken it to a new and awe-inspiring level of “doggishness.”  Truman knocks it over and rummages for a mid-morning snack, and Maggie distributes every piece of garbage evenly throughout the house, including my bed.  Yesterday’s trash included about four cups of wet mustard seeds that had accidentally been thrown away after experimenting with making homemade Dijon, and there was a trail of tears that covered the entire kitchen and back patio.  Andrew started to balk at having to rinse the trash bin out with a hose and I saw my opening.  But before I could get even a little reprimand out of my mouth he stopped me to say he just wanted to put on a sweatshirt because it was cold outside.

I decided to go out for some fresh air and buy some more dog food.  Picking a fight just keeps getting harder and harder these days.

As I drove I contemplated my options for drama.  Music practice?  He made first chair.  Lazy teenager?  He’s training for the LA Marathon and started his first job tutoring a kid in math last Saturday.

I guess now I’m just bragging.  Sorry.

It’s just that I’m worried.  The truth is that a good fight with a touching resolution is a sure-fire formula for a successful blog entry and it’s been too long since I last posted.  Typical, isn’t it?  Fighting with Andrew is almost always more about me than him.

I think I’ll just enjoy the gift of the fabulous 15’s for now.  Sweet 16 is starting to peak its head over the horizon, and I know teenage driving in Los Angeles is sure to add some dramatic tension to our currently peaceful lives.

Wait…  I have an idea.  I’ll make him one of his favorite desserts and then scold him for eating too much, too fast.  That’s surely a way to get his goat and give me something to write about.

FRENCH APPLE TART

Andrew used to ask for an ice cream cake for his birthdays, but the last few years it’s been an apple tart that he prefers.  It’s also a great dessert for the end of a heavy meal or a mid-afternoon snack.   This was one of the first “fancy” desserts I learned to make over twenty years ago and even though the end result will make you feel like a pastry chef, it’s really not hard at all.

An apple corer is a great tool to have on hand

Sweet Short Crust Tart Dough

This dough is easy to make and easy to work with.  It is not a highly flakey American style crust, but it stands up well to the weight of the tart ingredients.  I am giving directions to make it on the counter by hand, but it can be easily made in the food processor using the dough hook attachment.  The kitchen should not be too hot and you should work the dough as little as possible to avoid a hard crust.

1 ½ cups flour or 1 cup flour +1/2 cup cake flour if you have it on hand

1 large egg

1 tablespoon cold water

¼ teaspoon salt

3 tablespoons vanilla sugar (see kitchen Essential on the tab bar for the recipe)

1 ½ teaspoons vanilla

7 tablespoons slightly softened butter

1 egg, slightly beaten, for glazing

You will need a 9-inch fluted removable-bottomed tart pan

Place the flour in a mound on your work surface and make a well in the middle.  Add everything except the butter and lightly mix it together with your fingers or fork.

Getting dirty with some pre-food processor techniques

Add the butter and using your fingers or pastry scraper work the butter into the wet mixture.

Nobody said it was low calorie!

Next, using a pastry scraper, slowly chop in the flour a little at a time until the dough is mostly incorporated.  Don’t worry if it’s not smooth at this point.

Use a dough scraper to slowly incorporate the flour into the wet mixture

Using the palm of your hand, push the dough away from you and massage it quickly and lightly into a smooth ball of dough.  Wrap the dough in plastic wrap and refrigerate it for at least 30 minutes.  This last step is crucial.  The dough needs time to relax before it is baked.  This will help prevent it from shrinking too much away from the pan.  You can make the dough 2 to 3 days ahead of time.

When ready to use, roll out the dough on a cool surface to about ¼ inch thickness and into a 12-inch in round.

Not too thin and not too thick... about 1/4 in thick

Carefully fold the dough in half and place on a lightly greased tart shell.  Gently unfold the dough to fill the pan and lightly press the sides around the pan.

Fold the dough in half and gently lay over a pre-greased tart pan

Fold the excess dough over the edges and roll your rolling pin over the pan to remove the excess dough.

gently roll the pin over the tart pan

cut off the excess dough and try not to eat too much of it...

Now, using your fingers, press the sides of the tart up over the edge of the pan and “hook” it to the sides.

Place the tart shell back in the refrigerator and preheat the oven to 400 degrees.  When hot, take the tart shell out and cover bottom with a 9-inch round of parchment or aluminum foil.  Prick the bottom of the tart with a fork or pointed knife.  Place weights in pan and bake for 15 minutes.

If you don't have ceramic pie weights, just use some dry beans

Remove the tart shell from the oven and take out the weights.  Brush the interior of the tart with the beaten egg glaze.  Turn down the oven to 375 and bake for an additional 10 minutes.

Remove the shell from the oven and let cool.

Pre-baking the tart shell and using an egg glaze ensures the tart doesn't get soggy

Applesauce Filling

This filling works well for Pop Tarts and dessert dumplings as well.

4 not too sweet apples, peeled, cored, and roughly chopped

4 to 6 tablespoons unsalted butter

¼ cup vanilla sugar

1 ½ teaspoons vanilla

Melt the butter in a saucepan large enough to comfortably hold the apples.  When the butter has melted, add the apples and slowly cook on medium heat, shaking the pan occasionally until the apples are soft.  Once the apples are soft and starting to fall apart, add the sugar and vanilla and use a potato masher to get them to the consistency that you want.  I like the applesauce smooth, but leaving little pieces of apple in the sauce works well too.  Cook until you have a sauce that isn’t too wet.  Set aside and cool.  This can be made a day or two ahead.

Slow cooking the apples into a sauce

Tart Glaze

½ cup apricot jam or currant jelly

1 tablespoon brandy (fruity brandies like cherry, apple, or pear work well)

Bring both ingredients together in a small saucepan and cook until melted.  If using apricot jam, strain the mixture through a sieve to eliminate the solids.  This can be made ahead of time, but must be reheated before using.

Tart Construction and Baking

3 apples, peeled and cored and thinly sliced

1 prebaked tart shell

Applesauce filling

Tart glaze

Pre-heat oven to 375.

Fill the tart shell with the applesauce.

The apple sauce creates a sweet and butter base

Cut the apples in half and using a very sharp knife or mandolin, cut the apples into thin slices.  You will need a few very thin slices if you want to finish the tart off with an apple “rose” in the middle.  Starting from the outside and working in, layer the apples in an overlapping circle.

The first round of apples

You will have one outer circle and a second interior circle.  To create the “rose” you will start from the outside and work your way in with small, thin pieces of apple until you have two or three layers.  This is easier than it sounds; it takes a little patience to get the apple slices thin enough to be pliable.

The center rose takes a bit of practice and patience

On the middle rack, bake the tart for 20 to 25 minutes or until apples are cooked and starting to lightly brown.  If the edges of the tart start to get too brown, cover them with foil.

Hot out of the oven and ready for ther glaze

All that’s left is to glaze the tart.  Reheat the glaze and if needed, thin it with a bit of water.  Using a pastry brush, “paint” the glaze over the entire tart.

Just a touch of apricot glaze and it shines

Brithday Tart

The tart can be served warm or at room temperature.

Provecho!