On Life As A Picky Foodie

Well, not really.  Forget.  That is.  On the contrary, there is this niggling voice in the back of my head that keeps saying "Blog.  Blog.  You need to blog."  I go about my days and my evenings in the hopes of finding a little moment.  But it doesn't seem to appear.  

Today was my daughter's second birthday.  

Last night, when we asked her what she wanted for her birthday, she thought about it.  

"Umm," she said pressing her lips together, "puddles."

The sun was shining, so we have promised her puddles for another day.  Instead, we said, would she like a party. (luckily, she nodded at this proposal)

We decided to put her candles in some watermelon (or "avavava" as she calls it) instead of cake.  My cakes are different.  My cakes are funny.  They have no flour in them, no sugar, no eggs.  So I preferred to put them out with less ceremony in case the heat got to them before we remembered the candles.  Also, Vida Lev doesn't really like cake.  

Once in a while, she'll have "Pooding" -- awesome banana soft serve as per Choosing Raw (seriously, Gena wasn't kidding when she wrote "this post will change your life") -- and tons of fruit.  But that's about it when it comes to sweet things.  

DW and I discussed it and figured why start her early on a path she isn't the least bit interested in?  Which birthday Gods decreed that it shall henceforth be so?

However, when an eight-year-old friend saw this, he was quite taken aback.  "But you have to do it in the cake!" he cried.

"Why?" I asked

"Because."  He said.

I could write so much about that little tiny interaction.  But I won't.  Not tonight.  Tonight I will savour our wonderful afternoon in the sun with old friends and new friends in celebration of the most magical being I have ever encountered. 

The menu was, as one guest put it, "healthy."  I don't know, to me, it was just a picnic, filled with lovely things:

watermelon and grapes

Guacamole and blue corn chips

baby carrots and Faux Gras, kindly donated by Ms. Regal Vegan.

and a couple of Picky Foodie favourite sweet treats: raw carrot cake and Coconut Royals

And "Bonoons" (Balloons).  And "Wolly Pollies" (rolling down grassy hills).  And dancing just because we feel like it.    

As a sweet post script, I loved that we couldn't find anyone with matches to light the candles in the watermelon.  Because nobody smokes anymore, ha ha! (and if you remember my pack-and-a-half-a-day-habit, you've probably known me for close to a decade at this point) 

Happy Birthday, mi Vida. Thank you for blessing us every day.  

This is my baby girl just a couple of weeks ago: peaceful, at home in London, oblivious to the changes about to take place.  Although we made a book to explain that we were going to be moving, that we were leaving London for New York, I was well aware that it really was more for us grownups than for the sixteen-month old toddler who pointed out the big red busses and the airplanes in the photographs much in the same was she did in the street.

But the Grand Bus Rouge was replaced by the Grand Bus Jaune and I don’t know whether she expected everything to be so different.  I am familiar with New York, I knew what was coming, and the changes are still intense.  DW has been commenting about how different I am in the city.  Calmed somehow, he says, more at ease.  And bizarrely, I feel just as much at home here now, at age thirty-five, than I did the very first time I landed at JFK, over twenty years ago. 

We said goodbye to London in the best way we knew how: we walked through Hampstead Heath and to the Marylebone Farmer’s market.  We smelled the cheese at The Fromagerie one last time, we stopped by our favourite neighborhood café to swap general complaints.  There were people to take leave of and traditions to enjoy. 

But really, it’s the little things that make a place feel like home.  And wandering the streets of New York City, it becomes clearer with every step that London doesn’t feel mine – never has.  I loved it like a tourist on an extended stay, but I have missed the crazy fucking place that is New York.

When we were drowning in boxes, I couldn’t quite get past the questions of what we should keep, what we should sell, what should come on the plane with us, what we should leave behind.  It felt like an interminable list, constantly circling around in my head, piercing my brain like ice picks in the middle of the night.  What about the high chair?  What about the sofa bed?  What about the …?

October fourth, the day of departure, came way too quickly.  In about five seconds and after a hundred years.  I wasn’t ready.  I had never been more ready.  The taxi arrived to take us to Heathrow at 10:15 sharp.  We loaded our eight bags, the stroller, the car seat, the foldable cot – travelling light wasn’t an option this time.

The moment of realization had come earlier, as DW and I walked up the street to say goodbye to our friends at The Kitchen Table, where we spent gazillions of hours over the years.  On our way up the road, we had held hands, feeling each step in silence, knowing that we would not be making this silly little walk, which we had so taken for granted, again.  They had greeted us as they have every day for the past four years.  And we had said goodbye much in the same way we had so many times before.  DW and I laughed as we crossed the street and headed back home.  It all felt so… normal.

An hour later, the tears flowed. 

Saying goodbye is tough.  Because even if you return to the same places and see the same people, nothing will ever be the same. 

Someone else will be living in our house.  Another family will inhabit the walls where my baby girl came into the world.  They will cook on the incredible range, and take that same wander up the block to order sandwiches and fantastic coffee at The Kitchen Table.  They will live fifteen minutes from Hampstead Heath while we …

We are heading into this new chapter in our lives.  One in which nothing is clear or determined yet.  In the past few weeks, we have been in turn excited and terrified, elated and suspicious, relieved and regretful, sad and joyful and everything in between. 

As the taxi pulled out, a weight lifted off my shoulders.  I could do nothing more, even if I had wanted to.  What was packed would be packed, what was being shipped we would see again in a few weeks, what would be would be.  And if I wanted to avoid motion sickness, I needed to keep looking forward.

I don’t know if I actually laughed out loud, but I felt like doing so.  To go from being worried about what box contained my fermentation pot to not caring in the space of half a millisecond knocked me off balance enough that I was grateful to be sitting down.  The only thing that mattered wasn’t whether we should or shouldn’t take the furniture, or how many tea bags I should take on the flight – it was the two people sitting on either side of me, my husband and my daughter. 

And then, just like that, we find ourselves wandering the streets of New York slightly in awe, but also bizarrely at home already -- we know where we like to eat, where we like to shop for groceries, who we need to call, what we need to see, do, explore, experience.  Only unlike in the past, there's a little person involved and at the same time everything is new.  

Vida Lev is now toddling along, which means she has little time to be in her carrier or her stroller.  So we let her wander the streets of Manhattan and Brooklyn to her heart’s desire.  She waddles, holding her arms up on each side of her to keep her balance.  And then every so often, she squats down in a kind of downward dog to recalibrate before taking off again.  This child fits right in here: already she is in a hurry.  People wave, people smile, people ask whether her boots come in adult sizes.  If you think New Yorkers are rude or unfriendly, you should set a beaming toddler loose in the streets: never have I seen such love, enjoyment and pleasure in people’s faces as in the past few days with my little girl. 

On a final note, I will say this: we have gone from a four-bedroom house in London to who knows what in New York (though I know for a fact that whatever we find will be smaller than what we were in).  The stress, which was can I keep this?,  has now become why in the world did I hold on to that?

Life.  The jokes never stop coming.

Recipe: Breakfast for Globetrotting Parents 

When you're moving continents and running after a very energetic little girl, breakfast needs to power you through until God knows when.  This one might seem complicated and filled with scary, unknown ingredients, but people often ask me what I eat so I decided to share this latest favourite which has kept me sated, grounded and happy for many a challenging morning recently.  I won't lie, this is one greeeeen smoothie but it's choc-full of good fats, minerals, protein and awesome quality slow-burning fuel.  Plus, in my opinion, it's delicious though I am aware that my palate is greeeeener than most people's so consider yourself warned.  The great news is that all you have to do is blend so it's super simple to make.  And if you let the mixture sit for a few minutes, it will thicken up into a pudding.  I like to top mine with juicy berries and crunchy cacao nibs for something to chew on, and eat it with a big old spoon.

Ingredients:

1 T coconut butter

1 T hemp seeds

2 T chia seeds

1 t spirulina

1 t chlorella

1/8 t kelp powder

1 t cinnamon

1 t vanilla powder

1 dropper Oceans Alive

1 banana

3/4 c raspberries

1 dried fig

4-5 kale leaves, stalks removed

1 cup water

For the topping (optional): 

small handful fresh blueberries

a sprinkle of cacao nibs

Instructions:

Combine all the ingredients in the blender.  

Blend well -- you might need to add a little more water, depending on the strength of your machine.  

Allow to thicken for a few minutes.  

Top with blueberries and cacao nibs (optional). 

P.S.  Happy Birthday to ME!

The other day someone said it to me.  The subject was my daughter. 

My answer? 

Unreasonable?  Moi?  You bet!

Though it wasn’t meant as a compliment, I have come to the conclusion that being unreasonable is not a bad thing.  It’s simply a lack of reason.  And reason can be more of a hindrance than a help when it comes to matters of the heart – family, love.

The brain’s job is to solve problems, discover patterns, make rules.  Emotions and feelings exist in a completely separate realm where one plus one might equal a hula hoop instead of the famous t-w-o. 

The thing about using words like “unreasonable” isn’t just that it’s judgmental and condescending.  In my experience, people who talk about being reasonable are usually the same people who view emotions as a four-letter-word.  Eek, gloopy, uncontrollable, messy, unrestrained emotions – call the police!  Or the brain.    

Ever heard (or used) the expression “keeping busy”?  People constantly need to keep busy.  It’s a way of making sure our brains don’t nitpick our lives to death.  Because the problem with having to solve problems is that when there is a dearth of trouble, you bet the brain will do its utmost to create some. 

“Unreasonable” used to feel like an insult to me and yet somehow when I heard it the other day, I almost laughed.  For the first time, I owned up to the fact that I am, at times, very unreasonable.  And that’s just fine with me.

Six and three quarter ways to make sure you’re being unreasonable:

1.  Go for a walk in the rain.  When the skies open up and it’s pouring, head out.  Wander around those familiar streets and take a good look at a totally new part of the world without leaving your neighbourhood.

2.  Use Raspberries As Finger Hats.  They’re so much more delicious that way. Or better yet, use them as hats on the fingers of your beloved.

3.  Do what you love.  This is a new one for me.  I did the whole “choose a reasonable career that will pay the bills” thing.  It left me sick and depressed.  Then I procrastinated because I feared and I reasoned.  Now I’m ready. 

4.  Have Dessert For Breakfast. Raw chocolate smoothies have successfully converted many a night owl into morning people. (tweet twoo)

5.  Love The One You’re With.  Be it a friend, a partner, a pet, or your own wonderful company.

6.  Find Inspiration.  I love Julia Cameron’s concept of the Artist Date.  It’s awesome.  Best done during the day when you “should” be doing something else. 

And the three quarters?  Read Between the Lines.   

Unreasonable Drenched Brownies in Melted Icing

(Adapted from Meghan Telpner’s hot hot hot and spicy brownies)

Sweet potato, cayenne and apple sauce in brownies?  Sounds pretty unreasonable, doesn’t it?  Need more convincing about how wonderfully delectably delicious unreasonable can be?  Give these babies a try.

Ingredients

For the brownies:

-  100 gr. 100% cacao chocolate bar

-  1 T coconut oil

-  ½ cup sweet potato puree (steamed and then mashed/pureed)

-  1/8 cup honey

-  ½ cup coconut sugar

-  ½ cup Valrhona cacao powder

-  2 t vanilla extract (gluten free)

-  ¾ cup apple sauce

-  ½ cup coconut flour

-   ½ t baking powder

-   sprinkle salt

-  ½ T cinnamon

-  ¼ t cayenne

-  1/16 t green stevia powder

-  1 banana, mashed

-  ¼ c cashew milk (blend 1/8 c cashews and 1 cup water – use the rest for the melted icing)

-  ¼ cup water (or more)

For the Melted Icing:

-  1 cup cashew milk

-  1 T coconut oil

-  1 T coconut butter

-  1/8 cup Valrhona cacao powder

- 1 T honey

Directions:

For the Brownies:

Preheat the oven to 350 Fahrenheit (176 Centigrade)

Melt the chocolate and coconut oil in a double boiler / bain de Marie.

In the mean time, combine the wet ingredients and process with the S blade in the food processor.  Transfer to a large bowl and fold in the melted chocolate and coconut oil. 

Pour into oiled baking pan and bake for 60 minutes (check after 30 and then every 10 minutes with a toothpick)

Allow to cool fully before attempting anything.

For the Melted Icing:

Blend 1 cup or the leftover cashew milk with the coconut oil (can be room temperature, shouldn’t be too firm), coconut butter, cacao powder and honey.  Should be like pancake batter – not too creamy, this is unreasonable icing after all!  Store in the refrigerator until the brownies are fully cooled. 

Then drench and allow to set in the fridge for at least five hours.

Note: coconut flour does not a crumbly brownie make.  These are too gooey to be cake, and too cakey to be mousse.  But if you allow them to set (see below*), they’ll reward you with fudge.

So I have a thing about textures.

I love watching my baby girl explore them with as much relish as I do. With "gentle hands," she timidly runs her fingers along rose petals, the patterns of our green sofa, my skin.  And so too with food.

In the beginning, I found it almost painful to feed her plain pieces of roasted sweet potato.  How plain, how goopy, how dull.  I want to scrape my tongue at the very thought.  But Vida Lev is still learning about the vast expanse of flavors, textures and food experiences there are to be had and she loves her sweet potato as is.  In fact, she is teaching me to simplify, enjoy, or at least taste things on their own before I add spices, herbs and other foods.

Textures and flavors - to me, both factors determine the quality of a dish.  When something really stands out, it is because a balance has been obtained between them.  Personally, I prefer stark contrasts – hot and cold, crunchy and chewy, sweet and savory, wet and dry.  Like fleur de sel on a good praline.  Or fruit in a salad.  

Next time you’re hungry and can’t figure out what you’re truly wanting, try closing your eyes and asking yourself what texture you desire.  Is it soft or hard?  Doughy or bitty?  Wet or dry?

When I was about thirteen, we spent a summer on Lake Muscoca up in Canada. And while I remember the trampoline and the rickety old diving board that felt as if it was going to topple every time one of us dared to scoot to the end of it, my most vivid memories have to do with food.

The popcorn my aunt would make, it's salty crunchiness that was unlike the kind we got at the movies back home (where they only sold it covered in sugar -- horrendous!).  A few moments after the inevitable bellow of the fire alarm, she would present the warm bowl of crisp, white kernels.  We would sit around grabbing handfuls as we looked up at the stars.  Being a city girl, it was the first time I had seen such the night sky so clearly.  And while I loved lying back on the recliner and calling out every time I glimpsed a shooting star, what I was most focused on was the popcorn in my mouth.  I loved dousing it in fake butter and popping each kernel into my mouth where I could maneuver it into the perfect position, with my teeth sunk in the cavity just below the sharper, popped edges and my tongue running along the rounder bit.

I remember the bacon, the likes of which I had never tasted before. It was fresh, crispier than potato chips and crackled vigorously in my mouth.

For years, I associated Canada with bacon, popcorn and beer coolers, which we stole sips of when the adults weren’t looking.

By far my favorite discovery, however, was the locally made Rocky Road ice cream.  The cottage my family had rented sat alone on a tiny island that was only accessible by boat.  Whenever groceries were needed someone would have to go to the mainland.

Even then, way before I had any interest in cooking or health, I loved supermarkets.  Especially that summer. Because tagging along with whomever's turn it was to shop meant a scoop of Rocky Road.

Growing up in Belgium meant that there was never a shortage of the highest quality sweet treats.  But this ice cream beat even the most prestigious chocolatiers.

Looking back now, I realize that what seduced me wasn't the sweetness or even wonderfully artificial flavors. It was the balance of textures: crunchy nuts, gooey marshmallows, sticky caramel, creamy ice cream.  Each one was present in just the right amount, and as a result, the flavors melded as if they weren’t meant to be enjoyed separately.

This past year, I really focused on nuts and seeds. Not because I love them (though I do), but rather because I craved their oily crunch.  Almost everything I made involved Nuts.

Then, when I decided to follow the Naturopath's suggestion and remove them from my diet, I panicked. That very night, I made a warm salad... Sans nuts. And it wasn't half bad.

Within about three days, I felt better than I had in months. I didn't feel as deprived as I had feared. In fact, I didn't feel deprived at all. The only thing I missed was the texture, the added kick in my mouth that balanced out chewy, stringy, dry or wet. But that too faded as I focused on creating and discovering new nut-free dishes instead. 

Textures have as much of an emotional component as flavours: like when I'm sad and crave doughy foods. I might want savoury - like bread - or sweet - like brownies. But really, it's the texture that I crave and find comfort in.

Way back when, before I could put words to these preferences, I sat on that dock many a time as the sun started to set, twirling my Tongue in my mouth like a dreamcatcher, angling for a taste of every sumtuous part of the magical combination.  Every bite had potential, and while I didn't know it yet, I had already embarked on my journey -- in search of that elusive perfect bite.

Coconut Squares & Jam (a raw recipe)
(adapted from the very awesome bonzaiaphrodite.com)

Been on a bit of a dessert kick lately – like for the past 30-something years!  When a couple of good friends had a baby this week, I figured it was the perfect opportunity to try these puppies out.  Of course, I couldn’t not tinker with it and add my personal touches.  As you can see from the name, however, in this house, food aside, we’ve got Dr. Seuss on the brain.   

This recipe is simple, quick and child-friendly.  Coconut oil is a thyroid booster, the dried fruit is sweet with a little tang.  Feel free to use any dried fruit, but make sure to adjust the amount of sweetener accordingly.

For the crust:
2 cups coconut flour
1 cup coconut water
1/3 x2 cup coconut oil
½   cup maple syrup
1 t vanilla powder
1/2 t cinnamon
pinch salt

Melt the coconut oil in a bain de Marie.  Sift the flour to remove any lumps.  Add the cinnamon, salt and vanilla.  Once the oil is melted, mix in along with the coconut water and maple syrup.  Use your hands to really create a beautiful robust dough. 

Line a cookie pan (8 ½ x 12 inch or 21.5 x 30 cm) with parchment paper.  Flatten the dough evenly.  Refrigerate.

For the jam topping:
2 cups dried, unsulphured apricots
1 cup dried sour cherries (unsweetened)
1/8 cup raisins
3+ cups water
juice of 1 orange
zest of 1 medium lemon

Combine the dried fruit in a bowl.  Cover with just enough water.  Allow to soak for as long as you have – fifteen minutes to make the crust, or overnight if you have the time. 

Once soft, put the fruit in the food processor, keeping the soak water to add as necessary.  Start with ½ cup of the water as well as the freshly squeezed orange juice and process until you’ve got the beginning of a jam-like texture.  Then add the fresh lemon zest and process until relatively but not completely smooth.

To make the squares:
Spread the jam evenly over the crust.  Refrigerate for a couple of hours at least.  Then cut into squares. 

Keep in an airtight container in the fridge.

This has been the year of the baby.   Everyone I know, it seems – including me – has had one.  Or maybe it’s because I was attending crazy things like preggo yoga, that suddenly my life was filled with bulging bellies and talk about sleep positions and cravings.

Anyhoo, that isn’t my point.  My point is cake. 

All of these babies are marking milestones, having birthdays, and generally celebrating; as are their parents.  I have attended many a little party this year with sproglets who are barely walking wearing funny hats, doing funny dances, looking surprised as everyone around them bursts into song.  And eating cake.  Store bought cake, home made cake, improvised cake, pre-ordered cake.  Cake. 

This past weekend was my own baby’s birthday.  It was a weekend I’ll never forget.  We went to the zoo so she could see all the animals we read about.  We had a picnic with friends of all ages – and little Vida Lev made out like a bandit from all their generous gifts.

But again, I digress.  The subject is cake. 

We mark milestones with cake.   We eat cake on birthdays.  We celebrate with cake.

And although these little people still have developing taste buds, we feed them cake and start them down the path of cake.  Cake for “well done.”  Cake for “congratulations.” Cake for “s/he’s a jolly good fellow.”  Why?  Why are foods that aren’t healthy, don’t fortify or nutrify us considered “treats”?  It would be one thing if we felt great after indulging but, more often than not, we feel guilty, or worse. 

Why do we do it to ourselves and why do we do it to our children? 

Vida Lev is one year old.  She would celebrate with avocado if that was on offer.  Or a great afternoon at the zoo.   In Vida’s world, food doesn’t yet come into the equation as a way of celebrating.

For her party, I felt stuck in a little bit of a catch 22: do I make a cake and start her down that path – a path she has no idea exists – or do I resist the urge and feel like I’m depriving her?

One thing I’ve noticed about motherhood is that there is rarely a blatantly “right” answer.  I’m constantly wondering whether I am scarring her for life J.

But we were talking about cake…

In the end, I did make cake.  Raw, vegan, carrot cake sweetened with dates and a touch of coconut nectar.  And raw vegan chocolate chip cookies.  So yes, it could have been worse.  But still, when I think of how Vida’s first taste of a sugary food took place on the day we celebrated her arrival into the world, I cringe a little.

(by the way, if you’re still wondering whether sugar really is THAT bad, take a look at this New York Times article)

In my better moments, I savour the knowledge that she loved her day, and loved that people kept singing to her, and her cookies and cake.  In moments of doubt, I remember that she was a little more hyper that day (could have been as a result of all the presents and attention, could also have been the sugar, could have been both) and a little grumpier the next. 

Mostly, I wonder over and over why we enjoy making ourselves feel bad, or worse, causing actual harm to our health when we’re supposed to be celebrating?

That cake question, by the way, easily translates to alcohol.  Adults often mark occasions and celebrations by getting extremely drunk.  The next day, they complain bitterly, but there seems, to me, to be an underlying sense of pride.  I got shitfaced, how great am I?  How, I ask myself, does that say hip hip hooray to the greatness of life?     

Why doesn’t a green smoothie serve the same purpose?  It’s sweet, it’s intoxicating (in the broader sense of the term), and it does a body good.  I know … it doesn’t do it for me either… (I blame the media – or maybe the Pope)

But this isn’t a post about alcohol.  Or even green smoothies.  It’s a post about cake.  I made cake.  So here are the recipes for the cake and cookies I made on Vida Lev’s birthday.

Please note that these are not my original but rather great recipes ones that I found and adapted.  The internet is a new mother’s best friend after all!

Vida Lev’s first birthday treats

Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Cookies
(makes about 50 silver dollar-sized cookies)
(adapted from www.ohsheglows.com)

For the cookie dough:
1 ¾ cups raw cashews
1 ½ cups raw oats
¼ cup coconut nectar
2 t vanilla powder
¼ cup melted coconut oil

For the chocolate chips:
1/8 cup melted coconut oil
¼ cup melted cacao butter
½ cup cacao powder (unsweetened)
1 ½ T carob liquid (unsweetened)
2 t vanilla powder
3/4t lucuma (optional)
2 T coconut nectar

To make the chocolate chips:  Melt the coconut oil and cacao butter in a bain de marie.  Once it’s completely liquid, stir in the cacao powder followed by the carob, vanilla, lucuma and coconut nectar.  Spread onto a teflex sheet or some greaseproof paper, making sure the thick, sticky mixture is relatively uniform and no thicker than about half an inch.  Put in the fridge (if you have more time) or freezer to set.

To make the dough:  Grind the nuts and oats in the food processor until you get a powder.  Then add the other ingredients and process until a sticky ball forms.  Refrigerate until you can make the cookies (when the chocolate is ready).

For the cookies:  When the chocolate has set, chop into small pieces (or chips, if you will).  With you hands, fold into the dough – this is when the refrigeration is helpful as the chips won’t melt as quickly though you do have to be relatively fast.

You can use a small ice cream scoop to create relatively uniformly sized cookies.  Press down with a fork.  Keep refrigerated until they’re ready to serve.

Note: If you don’t have ingredients like coconut nectar, I’m sure you can replace this with maple syrup, date syrup or honey.  The lucuma is optional, as if the carob though I love the extra depth it lends to the chocolate.  And if you don’t have cacao butter handy, I would play around with the quantities of coconut oil and cacao powder.

Raw Carrot Cake with Vanilla Macadamia frosting
(adapted from Twobluelemons.com)

For the cake:
 4 cups shredded carrots (about 1.5 lbs)
1 cup pitted dates (about 16)
¾ cup dried, unsulphered apricots
1 ½ cups unsweetened shredded coconut
½ cup raisins
1 t vanilla (the original recipe calls for cinnamon, but Vida has had a bad reaction to it)
¼ t nutmeg
¼ t allspice

For the frosting:
¾ cup raw cashews, soaked overnight
¾ cup raw macadamias, soaked overnight
1.5 T coconut nectar
1 T melted coconut oil
3 T water

To Make the cake:
Grate the carrots using the grater attachment in the food processor.  Then transfer to a large mixing bowl. 
In the food processor, using the blade attachment, combine the dates, apricots until combined.  Mix in with the shredded carrots (best done by hand)
Once again, using the food processor, combine ½ cup coconut with the raisins and pulse until they are broken into little bits. Add the spices and pulse until well mixed then combine in the mixing bowl with the carrot, etc.
Kneed well with your hands until it’s all mixed and sticks together well.  Then spread onto an 8 ½ x 12 inch (21.5 x 30 cm) baking tray lined with greaseproof paper and refrigerate.

To Make the frosting:
Soak the cashews and macadamias overnight. Drain and rinse.  Process with 3 T water until a thick paste forms (this could take a while – keep scraping down the sides).   Meanwhile melt the coconut oil in a Bain de Marie.  Once the nuts are fully smooth, add the other ingredients and process briefly.

Spread the frosting over the cake and refrigerate until ready to serve.

This might sound a bit bananas.  Because by the time you’ve removed gluten, dairy, refined sugars and most nightshades from your diet, the last thing you want to hear is that there are more foods to take out of the rotation.  A couple of weeks ago, however, that is exactly what happened to me. 

Let me explain.  For the past few years, I have been successfully managing a hypo-thyroid condition with food and herbs.  During pregnancy and breastfeeding, however, many of the herbs I had been using were contraindicated and so off-limits.  Few people are aware that pregnancy often exacerbates pre-existing thyroid conditions, which is what recently happened to me.

After running the requisite blood tests, the doctor prescribed thyroid medication.  And why wouldn’t he?  For a moment, I got scared enough to consider taking it.  After all, what has worked for me in the past is not viable at the moment.  To be honest, I was also frustrated: I thought with all I do for my health, why is this happening to me? 

But I got over my self-pity and I gave my fear a good talking to.  Then I made an appointment with a Naturopath.  The way I see it, if the alternative method doesn’t work, I still have the option of medication.   But once I’m taking the pills, it’s much harder to wean myself off them.

The naturopath really seemed to know her stuff.  There was just one problem: she was asking me to radically change my diet. 

What qualifies me to do what I do are my studies in holistic health but also – or so I thought – the fact that I myself have been through a serious food makeover.  And it was hard.  But oh, how quickly we forget. 

When the Naturopath told me what I needed to remove from my diet, I asked her the same question I get asked by so many of my clients: What am I going to eat?

But I’ve lived to tell the tale and am feeling great.  So in addition to eating gluten-, diary-, refined carbohydrate- and sugar-free, I am not having beans, pulses, grains, nuts or seeds (except coconut and the occasional macadamia or cashew), or vegetable oils (though a little olive oil is OK).

What I am eating are a lot of vegetables, fruit and some animal protein.

It doesn’t sound like much, but it is.  And it’s forced me to go back to the drawing board and start getting creative in the kitchen again.  We’ve enjoyed curried veggie burgers and energizing smoothies, colourful salads and satisfying soups.

The Internet and its many food bloggers have been a wonderful resource, for which I am insanely grateful.  Some days you simply need a helping hand and a dollop of inspiration from others on similar journeys. 

Still, I waited to post this until I had a proper dessert.

People somehow assume that my desserts are healthy.  And while they are made entirely of whole, nutritious foods, they are still dessert – so to be enjoyed in moderation. 

But life’s too short to give up pudding.

Coconut Royals -- no oven necessary
(adapted from ohsheglows.com)

*  For the bottom layer:
-  1 ½ cup macadamia nuts
-  1 ½ cup old-fashioned rolled oats (I use gluten-free)
-  1.5 t salt
-  8 large medjool dates
-   ¼ cup coconut oil

*  For the filling:
-  17 large medjool dates
-  ½ cup water

* For the crumble:
-  ¾ cup crust mix
-  ½ cup shredded coconut
-  ¼ cup old-fashioned rolled oats

*  For the bonus layer:
-  a bar of 100% cacao chocolate (90 grams)

Line your baking tray with parchment paper (I used a 13.5 x 9.5 inch baking tray).

To make the bottom layer, process the macadamia nuts, 1 ½ cups oats and salt in the food processor until fine.  Then add the 8 medjool dates and process again.  Melt the coconut oil on a low flame and then add to the mixture and process until it becomes a more or less cohesive mass. 

Put ¾ cup aside and press the rest down with your hand on the lined baking tray until uniform and flat. 

Then process the 17 dates and the water until a paste forms.  Scoop and spread it over the crust layer using a flat spatula.

Finally, pulse the ¾ cup leftover crust mixture, the coconut and the ¼ cup of oats.  This needs to remain relatively crumbly.  Sprinkle over the top. 

And then we go over the top!  Melt the chocolate bar in a bain de Marie.  Drizzle over the mixture. 

Refrigerate for at least 2 hours, preferably overnight.  Cut into small (or large) squares) and serve straight from the refrigerator. 

He hadn’t been gone more than an hour when the ideas started coming to me.  Maybe I would make a wild rice salad, or a green smoothie with rocket and the leftover frozen cherries.  When I’m sad, I make food.

Some people eat when they’re emotional, others burrow away like squirrels in the winter.  I cook.  That’s not to say that I don’t indulge ias well, but mostly, it’s about the act of creation.

From the moment he left, I started planning what I was going to be baking.  The baby looked up at me and smiled as if she knew what was coming.  Soon enough, she was secured in her little seat on the counter sucking on an Italian blood orange as I whipped up blood orange ice cream.  I had to use up the rest of the coconut milk, after all.  The idea that I was making something that would keep until his return pleased me.  We could celebrate with a couple of scoops, a little cup each to toast being back together. 

The ice cream cups are grey, with a brown stripe running around the top.  Beautiful Danish design.  Everything in this house that has any kind of aesthetic comes from my grandmother.  I love watching her inspect my belongings when she comes to visit.  She smiles in recognition of the things she has given me over the years, the cutlery, the tablecloths, the mugs that we use for ice cream or chocolate pudding. 

He texted me from the airport: it all seems so unreal. 

It does.  The baby said goodbye to him like she does every morning, unaware that this time it would be for much longer.  There is no way to explain it to her yet.  And in this feeling of dislocated reality, I got down to cooking. 

I found myself wanting to make his favourite things.

After the ice cream was in the freezer, cookies seemed like the easiest thing: quick and simple, before the baby lost her patience. 

Ba, she said happily holding the blender plunger in one hand and her snack in the other, ba mba, mbaba. 

Yes, I replied, cookies.  Sweetness combined with a little rosemary, to suit my bittersweet mood. 

Bababababa Nanamba.

Glad we agree, I said, giving her a kiss that she didn’t really want.  The orange was way more interesting at that moment.  Thankfully.

Here we go! his text read, I’m switching off now.  Will let you know when I arrive.

I put the cookies in the oven.   The baby was now wanting a change of scene.  Last night, when I told her we were going “au bain,” she looked me in the eye and said, “au bain.”

Au bain? I asked her now.

Mbadum badum.

My sentiments exactly. 

Rosemary Almond Cookies 
(makes about 28 small cookies)

Preheat the oven to 204 Centigrade (400 Fahrenheit)
-  Grind 1 cup almonds  and 1 cup hazelnuts
(the end result should be 1 cup of each)
-  Mix in:
2 t vanilla powder
¼ t salt
¼ c melted coconut oil
¼ c coconut nectar*
1 (organic, free-range) egg**
pinch rosemary

Mix all the dry ingredients together, then add everything but the egg.  Taste the batter to make sure it’s not too sweet, not to savoury.  Only then should the egg be added to minimize the risk of food poisoning.

Using an ice cream scoop, form little balls on a Silpat sheet or non-stick tray.  Use a fork to carefully flatten into cookies.

Bake for 9 minutes.  After removing from the oven, place on a rack and allow to cool fully.    

*  If there is no coconut nectar available in your area, you can substitute with 1/2c date syrup (no sugar added) and 1 T honey.
**  if you don't eat eggs, mix 1T ground flax seeds with 1T water.  Allow to sit and turn into a gel and use this mixture instead.  However, it's important to wait until it has gelled.  

P.S.  To turn them into slightly savoury chocolate chip cookies, simply add a chopped up tablet of 100% unsweetened chocolate 

In our house, Monday is Mad Men night.  We download the latest, plug it in and travel back in time for close to an hour. 

Like with all great storytelling, we lose ourselves in it and forty-six minutes go by in what feels like 5.

Then we have dessert. 

It’s a bit of a tease because like with all great desserts, even though I try to make sure to savour every bite, it doesn’t last nearly long enough. 

(Serves 2)

Ingredients
1 c coconut water
2 T raw cacao
1/3 c + 1 T hemp seeds
1/3 c + 2 T coconut butter or meat (not the oil)
1/3 c raisins
2 pitted dates

Blend until smooth

Top with fresh raspberries

(sorry there's no picture -- this stuff never lasts long enough...)