On Life As A Picky Foodie

For the past while, I’ve been reading (and drooling) about pop-up restaurants without being able to partake in this latest foodie fashion.  I cannot think of a less pleasant phone call to make than ringing a four-day passion project to ask whether they can do me a gluten-, dairy-, bla bla bla, everything-free version of whatever it is they have spent months agonizing over.  Not really my idea of a good time – not for them, not for me.

Until this week.  Thanks to the lovely Molly from The Particular Kitchen – my twitter friend who magically transformed into real-life bud – I found out about this place: Tolerance Restaurant 

Vegan and gluten-free – in London (England) -- huh?  Huh?  WHAAAAAT?

The last time I got this excited about food in London, it was served on a bus and the view was of hookers. (long story)

DW and I had a date-night planned for Friday, and seeing as cinema times are not really geared towards co-sleeping attachment-parenting Ima and Pappa of a toddler, we decided to check the place out.

Let me start with a warning: there are no pictures of the food.  I wanted to enjoy, relax and eat without stressing out about whether I had a good enough shot. 

We called to ensure that I could, in fact, eat their food and got a resounding yes.  Even when I called again, early Friday morning – the day of said dinner – to make sure there was no dreaded agave, the friendly Natalie who was to be our waitress, patiently and kindly liased with the chef to assure me.  Raw avocado chocolate mousse it was then!

DW and I sauntered through the streets of North London, holding hands, feeling strangely free and yet as if we’d – as DW said – “left a part of our hearts back home.”  It’s difficult to leave Vida Lev.  And wonderful to be alone with my husband. 

Like good parents on a ticking clock, we arrived early and chatted to the two women in charge – one of whom was the lovely Natalie from earlier.  The other was her equally gorgeous sister.  They made us feel welcome and comfortable, a detail that always has huge ramifications on my dinner – the attitude of restaurant staff is more often than not, reflected in the food, don’t you think?  Their charm lasted throughout the meal.  Really, truly, I could have sat there for hours.  I loved the décor, the lighting, the whole ambiance was wonderful. 

And now to the food.  This is trickier.  Let me start by saying that I did very much enjoy it.  The ingredients were fresh, and clearly a lot of love and thought had gone into each dish. 

Simply put, I’d give the Chef a 10 for effort.  I could tell he worked his ass off to provide a range of options showcasing his different talents as well as catering to us “healthy” “vegan” types.  Each course offered both raw and cooked options -- earthy roots, refreshing salads, great grains and healthy fats. 

For all three – the starters, mains and desserts -- DW and I shared a cooked dish and a raw one.  The cooked dishes were without a doubt superior to the raw though I feel a little guilty saying this as I’m so grateful that there was raw food to begin with!

Our starters were a salad with mandolin-thin sliced sweet potato and olive and tomato tapenade – richly flavoured, a great combo of sweet and savoury.  I happen to be very partial to mixing things like olives with sweet roots and was very happy with the results in this particular salad.  It was satisfying without being heavy.  The raw nori rolls, on the other hand, were surprisingly unconvincing.  They tasted like many a raw mock tuna salad I have had in the past – something I’m not all that keen on anyway.  But based on the description on the menu, I had expected a lovely, mellow vegetable roll, not the intense taste I was confronted with.  It didn’t feel as well thought out, as nuanced as the cooked salad (which did contain raw spinach leaves). 

For mains, we had the quinoa cakes and the raw stir-fry (which obviously wasn’t fried) with pine nut “rice.” 

I’m going to interrupt myself here to mention a pet peeve that extends to most of these places: please don’t call something by a more widely known name if what you’re delivering is completely different.  Don’t say “pizza” when it has nothing to do with the famous dish, or “meatballs” when there isn’t any meat for miles, or “stir-fry” when it isn’t fried.  OK, I feel better now.  Thank you.

When DW had his first bite of the quinoa cake with cabbage sauce, he pronounced it “bland.”  But lo and behold, by the second, third, fourth, twentieth bite, we were both wanting more.  I want it for my vegan Thanksgiving; or for Sunday roast.  Every week.  It was a warming, comfort-food type dish – not immediately impressive -- but it crept up and discretely turned wonderful.  In fact, we requested a takeaway sample for Vida Lev, which the chef kindly sent us up on the house.  How sweet is that?

Unfortunately, however, though the raw “stir fry” and “rice” wasn’t bad, it also wasn’t fantastic.  Here’s the thing about raw food: getting gourmet raw food right is harder than it seems.  Almost anyone can make a decent salad, but what separates a bunch of lettuce leaves from actual uncooked greatness is the same thing that separates a chef from a passionate cook.  Once again, however, I would have to give Chef Cooper a 10 for effort.

For dessert, DW had the chocolate hazelnut cake, which I tried a tiny bit of (it contained soy so I stayed away for the most part).  I found it slightly dry – personally, I’m big on icing – but DW would happily have enjoyed a second piece had his stomach, budget and ego allowed him to.  My raw chocolate mousse was good.  The chef made me a special agave-free version for which I was grateful.

What a treat to be able to spoon food off DW’s plate, to allow him to taste mine without having to request additional cutlery -- to eat and enjoy without worrying and wondering. 

I know this guy is going to make waves in London.  At least I hope he will.  Because I could taste his passion in every bite.  He still has a ways to go, but I applaud him.  Bring on the healthy, gluten-free, vegan pop-ups!

We enjoyed our experience at Tolerance so much that DW and I decided to stop by Oliver’s Café, where the pop-up took place to check out their regular service.  Again, lovely people, lovely ambiance.

“Where has this place been all my [London] life?”  I wondered out loud.

We had to laugh – ain’t it always the way?  Like when you’re about to go to the hairdresser and your hair looks perfect for the first time in forever. But hey ho, we leave for New York in a week!

That being said, I was chatting to the owner and the guy behind the bar about vegan food and raw food and how different people react to it.  I’m of the opinion that anyone who cooks special diet meals should be focusing on making their food exciting and delicious for everyone, not just people who choose to or are forced to eat a specific way.  Whether it’s gluten-free, vegan, raw, or all of the above, it needs to knock your socks off, even if you eat ham and cheese baguette every other meal of your life.

For example, some of the diners at Tolerance were turned off by the fact that the chocolate mousse was made with avocado.  My theory is that had they not known the strange and unexpected ingredient to begin with, they probably would have enjoyed it more.  Case-in-point: my raw chocolate banana torte.  The name doesn’t give anything away, nor do I tell people about the tahini or the avocado (unless, of course, there’s an allergy or intolerance issue) until they’re licking their fingers and plates clean – and, believe me, they usually do.  This recipe appeared in the second Leon cookbook, Naturally Fast Food.

Raw Chocolate Banana Torte

A great one to make a day or two in advance as the extra time lets the flavours meld together.  Trust me, if you can get past the idea of avocado in dessert, you’ll love it.    

For the Base layer

¾ cups almonds

6 dates, pitted

¼ cup melted coconut oil

1/3 cup sunflower seeds

pinch salt

For the chocolate layer

2 avocados

2 T tahini

6 T cacao

½ t vanilla powder

2 t honey

4 T water

For the banana layers                       

4 ripe bananas

It is important to start by making the base layer so that it has time to set in the freezer:

For the base layer:

Combine the almonds, dates, sunflower seeds and salt in the food processor.  Melt the coconut oil in a Bain de Marie to avoid overheating.  Once the coconut oil has liquified, pour into the food processor while it’s working.  The mixture should end up as more or less one uniform ball. 

Divide into two parts, one larger (about 3/4), one smaller (about ¼) and put the smaller one aside.  Press the larger part into an 8 inch round cake pan with the base of your palm until it is about half a centimetre thick.  Put in the freezer to set while you prepare the other layers.

For the first banana layer:

Mash up two bananas.

For the second banana layer:

Chop the remaining two bananas into even slices.

For the chocolate layer:

(This can be done by hand or in the food processor – the key here is to make sure that it is extremely well-mixed: you don’t want little chunks of avocado ruining the party.)

Mash the avocado.  Mix the tahini in very well.  Add the cacao and vanilla powder followed by the honey and make sure everything is well blended – it should look like and have the consistency of chocolate pudding.  At the very end, dilute ever so slightly with water.  

To create the torte:

Pull the bottom layer out of the freezer. 

Cover with the mashed bananas.

At this point, roll out the second, smaller chunk of base layer dough until it is about as thick as a pancake or a tortilla and gently place on top of the mashed bananas

Gently arrange the chopped bananas over the entire surface

Cover with the chocolate layer.

Keep Refrigerated until serving.

This week, New York passed a law legalizing gay marriage.

Like most people I know and love, I am overjoyed.  But I also have a personal reason to celebrate.

When I was growing up, gay was weird, scary, a name the meaner kids hurled at you to indicate there was something wrong with you.

My father is gay.

He never came out to me.  Instead, I found out by accident, when reading a book – one of those teenage coming-of-age novels where the parents are divorced and the protagonist is trying desperately to figure out where she fits in.  The father in the book had a best friend who was always coming over – just like my Dad – and, much like my father’s buddy, the best friend was an excellent cook.  At the end of the story, the girl’s dad admits that Greg is more than just a friend…

I couldn’t just come out and ask him though.  My father wasn’t that kind of person.

Two years passed.  I studied every reaction, made note of anything that could hint at some kind of clear-cut answer.  Was that hug they shared a little too close?  Why was the best friend using his spoon to give my Dad a taste of his dinner?  As a child, I loved the Harriet the Spy series, and now I had a chance to use those skills for my own research. Sadly, Harriet ends up losing all her friends and as he felt me watching him, my father became increasingly uncomfortable.  Our relationship became fraught, difficult.  He blamed my adolescence but I know now that it was to do with the secret I was making it more and more difficult for him to keep.

(even today, as I write these words, I still feel a chill running up my spine)

Secrets were popular when I was growing up.  Around me everyone had secrets:  secret lovers in other cities, secret children with former flames or personal assistants.  Somehow, though, sexuality was different. 

“I wouldn’t talk like that,” a kid in my seventh grade class retorted when I told him to shut up, “if MY father was like yours.”

The rumour mill in my hometown is a Monster.  Created by bored housewives and perpetuated by their husbands and best friends, it has a life of its own.  Constantly starving for new prey, this Beast feeds off the weak, the deceived, the deceptions. 

My father, forbade me from telling anyone.  I was completely alone bar the one person I confided in.  When someone else hinted at it, I attacked my confidante thinking she had betrayed my trust.

Then there was the day I read a story in Time magazine, written by a girl my age who had sewn a square on the AIDS quilt in memory of her father.  It was a tiny sidebar, a barely noticeable post scriptum, but it changed my life. There were two of us!   

Growing up in a small community was hard for someone like me.  From day 1, I was an outsider – having moved at age six, there was only my mother, my father, my brother and I, when almost everyone else seemed to be related.  I didn’t fit in.  And then there was our family secret.  It took me a long time to find out that everyone knew because nobody talked about it.

The problem with secrets is that the people keeping them are always the last to know when it’s not longer a secret.  You are afraid of every word that comes out of your mouth, of even accidentally alluding to what you know you shouldn’t. You become obsessed with the one thing that’s off-limits. Everything sounds like it could be a tip-off.  

It’s so clear now how deeply this secret affected me and the course of life. 

Secrets are the opposite of healthy.  They sit like a knot in your stomach, clamping down on your digestive system and your ability to openly love. 

My first period, which I got while on vacation with my dad. The time(s) when my boyfriends were older than his. The tasteless meals, the charred BBQs, the people I met, the Thanksgiving when he wore a blue shirt with white stars and red and white striped suspenders. The words he uses when referring to my mother or women in general.  His obsession with cars and expressions like "you can lead a horse to water but you can't make it drink." All of these things are about him, what kind of person he is, what kind of father he is. If you know my father, you know what I'm talking about. But none of this has to do with his sexual preference. And it's about time people realized it.

So I rejoiced this week for New York City.  Because allowing people to get married – regardless of gender, age, class, sexual preference -- is the right thing to do.  But also because I hope and pray that no one ever again needs to grow up with the burden of keeping the kinds of secrets I did, not for their parents, not for themselves.

I leave you with this celebratory green smoothie.

Pride Green Smoothie

Ingredients:
-  1 cup frozen raspberries
-  3/4 cup frozen blueberries
-  1 frozen banana
-  1 handful spicy rocket (arugula)
-  ¼ cup water or more (you need enough so the blender can do its job but this mixture needs to remain thick like ice cream so add 1 T at a time)
-  1 t cacao nibs and coconut flakes (to sprinkle on top, optional)

Instructions:
Blend greens and the water until completely broken down.  Then add the frozen fruit and blend until a thick ice cream like texture forms – you want to do this as fast as possible to ensure it will remain as cold as possible.
Sprinkle cacao nibs and coconut flakes if using.

Go outside, put your feet up, sit in the sun and enjoy with a small spoon, sloooooowly.

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.