On Life As A Picky Foodie

Often, when I sit down write, I think of a dear friend who lives on the other side of the world.  Literally.  When I’m melting in the heat, she’s complaining about the cold, when we’re freezing under seven layers, she’s all about her lazy summer afternoons.  Our lives are opposites in many many more ways than the weather and yet we are closer in many ways than a lot of people with whom I supposedly have much more in common.  Such as the place we choose to live.  

We became friends in that roundabout way that you do with people who you feel you’ve known forever five minutes after meeting them.  It’s funny to think how little time we have actually spent in each other’s company.  However, our friendship, while mostly virtual, is also very real.  We exchange recipes and cry together on occasion.  We email with quandaries that we may be hesitant to entrust to anyone else.  She loves my child and I love hers though we have never met them face to face.  All I know about her daily life are the snippets I’ve been able to piece together by reading between the lines of whatever it is that we are discussing at that moment in time.  Still, in this messed up, disconnected, online world, she is my friend.

Today, I made popsicles.  Because it’s hot.  New York is filthy and humid and everything, including the air, feels thick and sticky.  I thought of my friend and wanted to email her and say “make these now.”  I wanted to tell her about how the popsicles reminded me of the things I love about summer: lying in a hammock and looking up at the stars, chasing waves, watching the trees for a hint of a breeze, sharing watermelon at a picnic.  Then I realized that I am as far away from those things as she is.

My friend’s distance is seasonal.  Mine is because we made the decision to move to a bastion of urban, industrial, overpopulated grime.  Here in New York, you eat ice cream watching roaches scuttle at your feet.  You pay eight dollars for a piece of watermelon so small your toddler finishes it without leaving even a bite (and everyone knows toddlers rarely eat everything on their plate).  Our view is of a neighbor’s living room – or rather it would be were it not for the air conditioner taking up half the window.  My daughter’s contact with nature is mostly primped or caged. 

I blended the ripe mango, the two peaches, the cup of coconut milk.  Why are we here? I thought, falling down my popsicle-induced rabbit hole.  Why did I bring us here?  I poured the mixture into the molds and stuck it all in the freezer feeling quite resigned.  

A few hours later, Vida Lev and I were enjoying the fruit of my labor when DW came home.  “What do you want to do on our date?” he asked.  We had been looking forward to a few hours together for a while. 

There were endless options and opportunities.  Movies, restaurants, talks, readings, bookstores, walks, bike rides: Did we want to stay in Brooklyn or head into Manhattan?  Did we want to focus on dinner or grab a bite and get us some culture?  Indoors or outdoors?  Just us or with friends?

I looked at my daughter, enjoying her popsicle.  She picked up the NY atlas and said to her babysitter, who is also an actress, “this is where we live.”

Yes.  This is where we live.  

As Promised: Peanut Ginger Sauce

New York isn't for everyone.  I have wanted to move here since I discovered Paul Auster and Bob Dylan and the Beats. Since visiting as a preteen, I have been in love with this city.  A Brooklyn friend says the place where you feel most at home is where you understand the meshugaas.  I promised this recipe to the guy doing check-out duty at the Park Slope Food Co-op last week.  We got to chatting about what he does, what I do.  I recommended he steam rather than roast his veggies, he told me a little about leather tanning and Texas.  Meshugaas?  Maybe.  But I get it.  

We eat this sauce drizzled over roasted sweet potatoes and steamed broccoli.  Sometimes we add cranberries.  I'm sure it would go well with anything containing arugula.  It's good.

2 heaping Tablespoons good peanut butter (the kind with nothing but peanuts in it)

1 teaspoon coconut aminos (or soy sauce)

1/4 t ginger powder (I had run out of fresh ginger, this was a decent, less tangy substitute)

1/2 Tablespoon date syrup

1 teaspoon mirin

1/2 teaspoon ume plum vinegar

1/2 Tablespoon dried cilantro

5 Tablespoons water

about 10 fresh basil leaves finely chopped (optional: use for garnish)

whisk all the ingredients together (except the basil) with a fork until a dressing forms.  

Pour over warm salad.  Garnish with fresh basil.  

Note: you might need to add water, depending on how thick you like it or the quantity of vegetables you've prepared.  It's a hearty, flavorsome dressing that won't suffer from extra liquid though I suggest you add 1 Tablespoon at a time and adjust seasonings accordingly.

Hello Peeps --

I simply can't believe it's March already.  It's madness, I tell you.  

First of all, I'd like to congratulate Liz, the winner of our giveaway!  Liz, please send me your email address via The Picky Foodie Contact sheet and we can take it from there.  I do hope you enjoy Parents Need to Eat Too -- let me know.

Secondly...  hmm... OK... well...

I have something to tell you...

There’s this thing, you see...

I make it thick and dip caramelized sweet potato wedges in it.

I thin it out with lemon juice or water and it dresses my salads well enough to conquer New York by night.

Or I grab my spoon and snack on it straight out of the jar.

The thing with this thing is that I can never make enough.  It seems I am constantly whipping up a batch only to make another because, well, this stuff goes fast around here. 

In case you’re wondering, the family doesn’t eat this quite like I do.  It’s just me, alone, with a spoon and this stuff, or a knife to spread it nice and thick, or a big big bowl of beautiful greens, ready to get gussied up.  Or a sprouted corn tortilla, a sheet of nori, a celery stick. 

Tahini is its nutty, wonderful self.

Miso adds a touch of earthiness.

And apple – cider and vinegar – make it sweet and tangy.

Then we wrap it all up with a nice green cilantro bow for a little left-field depth.

And Bob’s your uncle (or Eric in my case, and I think he’ll like it too)

This isn’t your average little concoction.  It’s rich as an eighties Wall Street Banker, and comforting like when you come home from a long winter hike and someone’s gotten the fire going in anticipation of your return.  It might seem a little strange at first, as if the tastes don’t quite know what to do with one another, but I dare you to stop after a few tastes.  My friend tried it, and while she declared, “this is weird,” she did so while helping herself for the third or fourth time.

Spread it, pour it, drink it.  It’s healthy enough to indulge in and decadent enough to enjoy regardless of how normally eat.

Then comment below, tell me what you think.  And please, be honest.  I’d love to know. 

Tahini Miso Spread

Ingredients:

½ cup fresh cilantro, finely chopped (or ¼ cup dried – leaves, not seeds or powder)

1/3 + ¼ cup tahini (I know, weird, but it works)

½ cup apple cider

2 T miso

1 T apple cider vinegar

¼ cup fresh lemon juice

1 T water

Directions:

Start by combining 1/3 cup tahini with the apple cider, the vinegar, the lemon juice and the water.  Stir it all together with a fork until the mixture is creamy and smooth.  Then add the miso and the additional tahini and repeat.  You can thin it out until the desired texture is obtained.

Happy 2012 everyone!

There's a book I love to read to Vida Lev.  In it, the world becomes a relatively small, very nature-oriented planet where the birth of a child is passed on from creature to creature until gradually everyone is ready to welcome a new being onto this earth.  Beautiful, no?  And about as far away from our technocratic, virtual world as it's possible to be.

We live far removed from one another and while physical distance is easier to bridge than ever -- my daughter knows the word Skype already, and knows that it means we will be seeing her grandmother on the computer screen -- local relationships sometimes feel trickier to manage.  

The other day, a woman I follow on twitter was commenting how distant she feels from her Facebook friends.  I have to admit that I completely understand her.  My Facebook page is personal and everyone on there are people I have met face to face and have felt some kinship to at one point or another -- from pre-school to high school, from El Salvador to Ojai, these are people I supposedly know.

And yet, I often find these "friends" and I have little in common.  Sometimes I am even offended by their postings -- apparently, in addition to lovely and kind people,  I am also "friends" with fascists, bigots, racists and chauvinists.  (I'm shuddering right now, by the way.)

When I was first introduced to twitter, I rejected it completely.  Enough, I said, no more social media.  But seeing as The Picky Foodie won't grow legs and walk the earth without some help, I decided to give it a shot.  And the results were astounding.  Though I haven't met most of my twitter peeps -- with some wonderful exceptions like the delightful Molly of The Particular Kitchen and Mona of Wise Words -- I find we have so much more in common than I do with so many of my "friends" on Facebook.

Today is my three-month veganiversary.  While many assume I have been vegan for yonks, I wasn't ready to take the official step until this year, October 12th, to be exact.  My 35th birthday.  Will I be vegan forever?  Who knows!  But for now, I'm enjoying the feeling of not eating animal products (with the exception of the occasional bit of honey), experimenting with plant-based proteins, and eating in a way that is more in line with my values.

While I took this step on my own, I have found inspiration in so many blog posts, recipes and experiences shared by the people I have found on twitter.  What can I say?  It does truly take a village.  Here are my  3 faves:

-  Gena Hamshaw at Choosing Raw -- hilariously, when I went to her website to double check the spelling of Gena's last name, I found a recent recipe for  a similar kind of bread and just like me, she found that while the loaf is good, it's probably closer to the taste of a health-food-foodie (in fact, I think I'll try hers next).  Nutritionist, future super-power MD, Gena is a wiz in the kitchen and knows truck-loads about health as well as recovering from Eating Disorders.  Love her!  

-  Seyward Rebhal's Bonzai Aphrodite -- totally fabulous, totally fun, totally unique, totally vegan.  I return to this site again and again, for inspiration and because Seyward is just totally awesome.  

-  Kris Carr's Crazy Sexy website-- This woman has makes living with incurable disease look glamorous.  She's the rock star of healing with food and healthy living.  Think attitude isn't important when it comes to kicking Cancer's ass?  Check out Kris, her amazing story and her wonderfully informative website.  

Through these and other sites I visit regularly, I will occasionally stumble on a one-off wild card recipes by people I haven't heard of before.  Blog posts passed and retweeted, about foods and recipes I'm delighted to play with as well.  And so too with the original recipe for this moist apple bread by Wendakai.  In my gluten-free, mostly grain-free life, I sometimes crave bread and sometimes long for cake.  This recipe falls somewhere between sweet and mildly savory, between bread and cake.  Does that make it a loaf?  

Anyway, the first mouthful took me back to the night I gave birth to Vida Lev. After we had cleaned up, my baby had fed for the first time and we were all happily cuddling in bed, Elke and Sandesh, the amazing midwives, asked me what I wanted to eat.  By then it was one in the morning and I hadn't had any food for close to twelve hours.  "Be careful what you ask for," Elke said, "because you will remember this for the rest of your life."  She was right: the slice of toasted bread DW had baked for me the day before with almond butter and fig spread is something I still dream of.

And when this lovely little loaf came out of the oven, as my beautiful daughter slept in the next room, I slathered a nice slice in almond butter and topped it with fig spread and a touch of nostalgia.

May this year bring health, happiness, joy and may you dance in the sunshine.

With love,

Gabriela

Gluten Free, Vegan Apple Spice Bread

1 c whole garfava flour (a mixture of garbanzo and fava bean flour available from Bob's Red Mill)

1/2 c millet flour

1/4 c almond flour

2 t gluten free baking powder

1 1/2 t cinnamon

1/2 t ginger powder

1/2 c date sugar

2 T mesquite (optional)

1/4 t sea salt (optional)

1 flax egg (if you need instructions on how to properly make one, Bonzai Aphrodite has great instructions here)

3/4 c apple sauce

juice of 1 lemon (about 1/4 c)

1/2 c water

Instructions:  Preheat the oven to 350 Fahrenheit (about 175 Centigrade)

In a large bowl, mix the dry ingredients: flour, baking powder, spices, salt

Add the wet ingredients and mix well.

Bake for about 50 minutes.

This loaf if great toasted though, as I mentioned before, it might not be for everyone.  

There's a great story of my mother, who has always baked "different" (read: healthy) things, taking a zucchini bread to a picnic once.  The husband of a friend of hers couldn't get enough of it -- he just loved it.  Until my mother told him what it was made of and he found he suddenly didn't like it anymore. 

Afterwards he politely requested that my mother never reveal what she put in her lovely baked goods again. 

Wouldn’t it be lovely if we all enjoyed healthy foods?

Wouldn’t it be even lovelier if our children ate what we feel is healthiest with joy and pleasure and ease?

In my experience, they can and do… sometimes.

Recently, Debbie from Words to Eat By, one of my favourite Mum food bloggers came out and admitted that while she is all about the food, her little one sometimes has other ideas.  Quite courageous on her part!

It got me thinking about what I eat and how it has evolved to include this little person with a lot of big opinions. 

Let’s think up an example.  Like, maybe, I don’t know… green smoothies.  Vida Lev used to love them.  I’d put everything from kale to coriander (cilantro) in there.  Spinach?  No problem!  Chard?  Bring it on!  And berries and chlorella or spirulina -- even hemp seeds made an occasional appearance.  If you’re a Mom and you’ve asked me for advice about feeding your kid(s) – or even if you’re not but we’ve chatted nutrition -- chances are, I’ve thrown a green smoothie at you in one form or another.

Hell, green smoothies are my breakfast almost every morning. 

Sadly, not for Vida Lev.  No more.  This week, she said “non” for the first time – a clear, decisive, no-friggin’-way: “nonononononononon, uh uh, non non”.  While her ability to verbalize is brand new, she’s been pursing her lips and shaking her head for quite a while.  And green smoothies were one of the first things to get the thumbs down.   

At first I was freaked out.  But seeing as we’ve decided to trust Vida Lev to let us know her preferences from the first food she put into her mouth (cucumber), I figured I’d keep riding the wave and see where it led.

So far, we’ve had the mushroom phase, the cooked onion phase, the avocado phase(s), the apple and pear months, the nori phase that has yet to end.  There were a couple of banana days and kelp noodle nights. And, of course raisins – those never seem to go out of style.  She’s loved and hated the same foods twice in a day, gone off foods and then demanded them with a face that says Come on, didn’t you get the memo???

People ask me what I feed my child all the time. 

The easy answer is this: she eats what we eat.  For the most part, however, when I think I’m making something she’ll love, she turns her nose up at it.  On the other hand, when I doubt my eighteen-month old will be interested, she’s all about my plate! (like when she ate most of my jicama, beetroot and hijiki salad in a tangy carrot ginger dressing!)

The recipe below was no exception.  I thought it looked like mac ‘n cheese and don’t all kids like that stuff?  It contains some of her favourite foods: peas, pumpkin – or so I thought.  Besides, everyone says kids love pasta. 

Well, not this one.  She left her father and I to finish it off all by our selves.   

Pasta with Pumpkin Sauce and Macadamia Kream

(allergy warning: contains nuts)

As is often the case right now, dinnertime hit way too quickly.  There I was, slightly panicked but determined not to succumb to the draw of easy takeaway.  I think we’ve had pasta 3 or 4 times in the last 18 months.  It’s not something I make often mostly because I’m not a huge fan of how I feel after eating it.  But once in a while, on nights like this one, it works: unlike many of our staples, there is no pre-soaking, no pre-planning, just boiling water and a timer.  And the sauce?  This crazy little invention was the result of a quick scan of what we had in our cabinets and some improv.  Thirty minutes later, we were sitting down to dinner -- a much less embarrassing outcome than the last time I did improv and ended up taking my bra off in front of 20 people.

Ingredients

For the Pumpkin Sauce:

5 garlic cloves, clopped finely

1 15 oz. can pumpkin (425 gr)

¼ t dried sage

pinch rosemary

pinch chipotle powder*

squeeze lemon

2 c frozen peas

1 cup water + more (depending on the size of your pan)

* we use very little to keep it child-friendly but add more at the table to suit our individual tastes

For the Macadamia Kream:

½ c macadamia nuts (preferably soaked for a few hours, but not necessary)

½ c water

¼ small onion or shallot

½ T balsamic vinegar

salt

Instructions

Chop the garlic as fine as you can or, even better, use a garlic press.

Pour about an inch of water into a pan and add the garlic.  Bring to a boil and allow to simmer for a few minutes, until you can properly smell the garlic.  Make sure the water doesn’t all evaporate although it’s ok for some of it to. 

Then add the pumpkin as well as another cup of water, the sage and the rosemary.  Allow to simmer on a low flame, stirring occasionally.

In the mean time, you can make the macadamia Kream by simply combining all the ingredients – nuts, water, onion, balsamic, salt -- in a blender and blending until smooth.  (Note: I didn’t use any mustard in this version though I probably would add about ¼ t next time to give it a little extra kick)

Once the pumpkin has reduced a tad, add the frozen peas.  Cook until they are ready but not mushy.  Then add the chipotle and stir in a squeeze of lemon.  Turn off the heat and allow the sauce to cool slightly.  Then stir in the macadamia kream. 

The macadamia kream shouldn’t be cooked although the pumpkin sauce, being hot, will heat it up.

Serve over (gluten free brown rice or buckwheat) pasta. 

The past couple of months have been a blur of boxes – packed and unpacked – shifts – mental, physical, emotional – and searching, looking, yearning for some kind of stability and, dare I say it, routine.  It’s funny that two adults needed a baby in order to have, and learn to cherish, routine.

The past couple of months have also, unfortunately lacked any kind of proper time to devote to me, my work, my writing, my Picky Foodie world.  Every night, when I sit at the computer it is to get things done so we don’t drown in administrative tasks.  And by the time I’m done with those, every part of me is completely shattered.  As a Holistic Health Consultant to myself, at that point, I recommend sleep. 

Still, so many moments that would have been wonderful to share here, have gone unrecorded.  However, today I knew I would be writing this down no matter how late it was or how tired I got.  Full-time motherhood is the hardest, most exhausting, most time-consuming job I have ever done and probably will ever do.  I’ve said it a million times and I’ll say it again: kids don’t come with a pause button.

But for all the challenges…

Today was a rough day.  Vida Lev didn’t sleep very much or very well and kept me up most of the night with constant demands to nurse.  It was also a day packed with activities, play dates and I needed to cook dinner to take over to a friend’s house.  When Vida doesn’t sleep, she can get grumpy (who doesn’t?).  When neither of us sleeps, well, it can get pretty trying.

I decided to take her to the park in the hopes that a little fresh air and a good run around might help.  She took off after the ball but then stopped and came running back to me in tears.  She demanded to be picked up but wanted to be let down again immediately.  Exhaustion coupled with an inability to verbalize what’s wrong.  Eesh!

Finally, she lay down on the grass and looked up at the sky.  A small smile appeared on her face.  She pointed at the airplanes, the birds.  “Ooooo” she whispered in awe of a falling leaf or a cloud.  Then she turned to look at me and patted the spot beside her. 

There we lay, staring up at the blue sky, the flutter of cotton candy clouds, feeling the chilly wind on our runny noses. 

“La la la,” she sang softly beside me.

“La la la,” I replied in a similar tone.

“La laaa,” she sang and waited.

It was my turn: “La laaa.”

“Laa laa.”

“Laa laa.”

“la la la la.”

“la la la la.”

For a magical moment, all that existed was the blue sky, the clouds, and my daughter and I singing a song together that had no words but felt like the clearest, truest love song.  Her voice went as high as it would go and then low low low.  And I followed, happy.  I felt her little hand grab my thumb.

La la la

Easy Easy Quinoa

These days, there is no time for fuss.  There is less time for dishes or planning or complications.  I thought I’d share one of our autumn favourites. (Although I’m currently no longer eating grains but that’ll be a post for another time).  It’s got greens, sweet seasonal root veg, protein-rich quinoa – this is truly a perfect meal-in-a-bowl or a fantastic nutrient-dense side dish.   And, it’s super versatile: make it with leftovers, change up the greens or grains you use, add different spices.  Or, do the whole cook once, eat three times thing.  It works, and best of all, it will keep you from missing magical moments because you were too busy in the kitchen.  

1 ½ cups quinoa

1 medium squash of choice, preferably one with edible skin (I love kabocha)

1/2 T coconut oil

4 onions

1-2 bay leaves

1 T balsamic vinegar

½ t cinnamon + ¾ t cinnamon

½ t ground cumin

pinch chilli flakes or to taste

1 bunch kale

 ¾ c raisins

water

salt to taste

Soak the quinoa overnight or throughout a work day.  Make sure you cover with enough water so it doesn’t get all soaked up. 

Drain and rinse well.

Bring to a boil in 3 cups of water.  Once it’s proper boiling, lower the flame and cook until the water is gone (around 45 minutes).

Pre-heat the oven to 350F/175C

Chop the squash into bite-sized pieces. Combine with the coconut oil and mix well to ensure pieces are ever so lightly coated.  Sprinkle with salt, ½ t cinnamon, a sprinkle of rock salt and a pinch of chilli flakes.  Roast for 45 minutes. Pull out of the over and give the pan a good shake/ stir and return to the oven for an additional 20 minutes.  The squash is ready when it is easily pierced with a fork (but not mushy). 

Chop the onions into thin strips, put in a pan along with the bay leaves and balsamic.  Cover with water and bring to a boil.  Allow to simmer, topping up the water as needed until the onions are well-cooked (around 45 minutes).  There should be no water remaining in the pan. 

Finely chop up the kale. 

When the quinoa, squash and onions are ready, combine in a big bowl.  Stir in the kale, which will be slightly “cooked” by the heat of the rest of the ingredients.  Then add the additional 3/4t cinnamon, the cumin, an additional dash of chilli flakes and lastly, the raisins.  Adjust the seasonings to taste.  

Serve warm or at room temperature.

“It’s so nice to see you enjoy.”  Dw’s words were painful to hear.

Have I really been taking such little pleasure in my food lately?

The answer is yes.  Honestly, truly.  I wish it was different, but the reality is such that recently I have been cooking because my child needs to be fed, or as a way of procrastinating the mountains of packing that await me in every room.  Food has, in the past few months, become a chore.

Over the years, I have removed and reinstated countless ingredients: tomatoes, oats, tamari, potatoes (sweet and regular), aubergines (eggplants to the Yanks), to name a few.  Some have remained, some have been jettisoned again, while others come and go depending on how I’m feeling.  

Last March, I found myself depleted of energy, drained at all times, my thyroid was acting up, and I hadn’t been able to lose even a gram of the weight I had put on during my pregnancy.  The very talented Naturopath I saw recommended I remove all nuts (except coconut and some cashews and macadamias if necessary), seeds, pulses and grains.  We compromised on oats, which I happily ate for breakfast every morning and stuffed in every dessert imaginable (something had to replace all those nut-filled recipes!).  She also requested that I eat more meat – something I have been trying to remove altogether (since becoming a mother, I have found it much more difficult to stomach).

I agreed to try and within a few weeks, I was feeling a hundred times better.  My weight started to normalize, my skin, which had been red and blotchy for a while, cleared up, my mood lightened.  All was well.

Until it wasn’t. 

For me, food should be about enjoyment.  I love textures, colours, flavours.  I mix, I match, I test, I taste.  Since Vida Lev was born cooking has become even more important to me as often it is my only creative outlet.

My list was pretty stark:

Dos: greens, potatoes (which I can’t stand unless they are French Fries drowned in mayonnaise – yes, really), sweet potatoes, mushrooms, fruit, coconut, all meat, especially wild caught (ugh, yuck – sooo not into it right now), chocolate (ok, so I didn’t ask about this one.  Technically, cacao is a seed, but I played shtum and decreed it was “different” i.e. the only way to get through this)

Don’ts: gluten, dairy, soy, sugar (refined), flour, beans, nuts, seeds, aubergines. Peppers, grains and other nightshades (unless well cooked).

Green, yes.  But dull.  Dull.  Dull. 

At first, I was so happy to be feeling great -- I started working out again and revelled in my newfound vigour.  It was a hot summer and we spent three weeks in the Middle East where it was easy to stick to salads and fruit.

Upon our return, however, things started to change. 

I got bored.  Then I got angry.  Then the cravings started. 

Some people stop eating when they’re emotional.  Not me.  And sugar is my port of call.  I kept telling myself that it could be worse, that I could be eating a pint of actual ice cream instead of Choosing Raw's soft serve made out of only bananas (seriously, it's amazing all on its own but if you want to be truly decadent, try it on top of my Unreasonable Brownies -- just be sure to omit the cayenne).  But the body doesn’t care if you’re overeating on Carvel or Chiquita. 

So what if I was eating too much healthy food – it was still too much and I wasn’t feeling good.  Again. 

This week, I decided to start incorporating things back into my diet.  I wanted to rediscover joy in my meals.

This journey is exactly that, a journey.  And when I find myself getting too preachy either when I speak to people or when I’m writing this blog, my body finds a way to remind me that I too struggle on a daily basis with what is right for me, what is healthy in my life, what I need in order to feel my best.

By now, my palate has changed.  For example, I have no desire for, almonds, that powerhouse of plant-based protein I didn’t think I could live without.  On the other hand I find myself craving, chia and hemp seeds, which I didn’t care for in the past.

But really, what I’ve been missing most is bread.  It’s a texture thing: is there a more satisfying experience than biting into a good piece of bread?  Bread is such a basic part of my food memory, a constant in an ever-changing childhood.   I know I’m not the first to say this, but when I first went gluten free, the thought of living without bread was terrifying.  Thankfully, and again, I know I’m not the first to have this experience, we do have a myriad of wonderful options available to us these days.

In order to celebrate my return to joyful eating, I started back at square one, a return to basics if you will: I baked bread.  I made not one but two different kinds of bread – one raw and one more mainstream.  Usually, I reserve these posts for recipes of my own creation.  But I cannot claim ownership of either of these.  It’s been a while, and it was nice to be able to find inspiration out there in other people’s adventures.  Both breads came out wonderfully and there are no words to describe the pleasure I’ve been taking in every single bite.  

Two Bread Recipes

Raw Butternut Squash Flatbread (raw/vegan)

A friend of mine uses her oven pilot light instead of a dyhydrator.  I cranked up the dehydrator one last time before our big move. Note: when eating dehydrated foods - whether your own or store bought -- don’t forget to up your liquid intake.

(Adapted from Shazzie’s book, “Evie’s Kitchen, Raising an ecstatic Child.”)

Ingredients:

- 1 butternut squash, peeled, deseeded, roughly chopped

- 10 cherry tomatoes – I used a mixture of yellow and red.  They’re so sweet right now

-  ½ cup fresh parsley, roughly

- 1 t coconut aminos (or soy sauce)

- 3 T ground flax seeds

- pinch of sea salt (optional, to taste)

- ¼ t sweet paprika

- ¼ cup water

Directions:

Start by processing the butternut squash and tomatoes well.  Then add the water, parsley, flax, coconut aminos , paprika and salt and process again until a paste forms.  This could take a few minutes and you might need to add more water, depending on the veggies.

Then spread on teflex sheets and dehydrate at 105 Fahrenheit (40 Centigrade) for 5 hours.  Flip over and remove the teflex sheets and dehydrate for an additional 8 hours until they are hard but still flexible. 

Enjoy with avocado and sprouts or according to your personal preferences.

Pecan, Almond and Buckwheat Bread

They say when you’re adapting a recipe, the first thing to do is make it exactly as the original instructs.  Then you can play and change things from a clear starting point.  Until I baked this bread, I didn’t think I was physically capable of following a recipe.  Usually, I start to pour and mix and suddenly I’ll feel an overwhelming urge to change things, add an ingredient that I know will improve whatever it is I’m working on.  But this bread was so easy and simple that I just followed it without even thinking about it.  The only difference was that I used a rectangular baking tin because that is what I have.   

I will, however, be working on an egg-free/vegan version.

The original post is so beautiful and evocative (much like the rest of her site – definitely worth losing yourself in for as long as you can spare) that I’d rather you check it out
on La Tartine Gourmande's blog rather than copying and pasting it here.  This bread blew my socks off.  It's hearty and rich without being heavy.  Though I didn't know whether this strange new taste would stand the baby-palate test, Vida Lev gobbled up a couple of pieces with relish.  

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.

Give 10 people the same recipe and you'll get 10 results. It's part of what I love about cooking. And in the hours I spend perusing food blogs, I am consistently struck by two paradoxical thoughts: how similar we all are and at the same time, I see and experience our differences. What an amazing time we live in that I can visit kitchens in Toronto, Hong Kong, NYC, Vancouver, Los Angeles and Buenos Aires in the space of a few minutes. 

The only things missing are the smells – although those are easily imagined with the help of some great writing -- and the tastes, which can be recreated in my own kitchen in my own way. 

If you read this blog, or are a part of the extended food-blogging community, you probably know about Jennifer Perillo who recently lost her husband.  Watching people from all walks of life and stretching the globe band together to help this woman and her little girls has been incredibly touching.  It has also gotten me thinking about that same paradox of cooking: how many of us felt touched by her story because we feel a similarity, and yet how different most of our lives are from hers. 

When you think about it, however, no matter where we live, who we are or what we do; no matter what our circumstances, after our basic needs are met, we all want the same thing: to be happy.  But it is exactly where our desires concur that we differ – as the meaning of happiness is so personal. 

So I have these cookies, right?  My Everyday Cookies that I blogged about a few weeks back.  As I said then, cooking is what I do when life gets complicated.  It's what I do when life is great, when it's hard, when I'm scared, when I'm happy. These days, cooking is oftentimes my main creative outlet.  

Originally these cookies were created as something that Vida Lev could enjoy on the go.  They weren't meant to do anything beyond that.  I needed something simple, quick, and, of course, healthy and delicious.    

One night, on a whim, I made them.  And my little girl loved them as did her Dad.  Then the neighbour enjoyed a few, and my mother and grandmother.  My brother took a box, my niece gobbled some.  These silly little cookies were a Picky Foodie hit.

Whenever someone confided that they were worried about giving their children processed food, or that they didn’t have much time (or desire) to cook, I would point them to my Everyday Cookies.

The responses have been wonderful.

“These are going to be a problem!” one friend emailed forty-five minutes after I’d sent her the recipe.

“Fantastic!” came another friend’s message, “we can’t stop eating them” (we meaning herself, her husband and her little one – you see, these cookies are inter-generational).

I actually make two batches at a time now – one for DW and one for Vida Lev.  The best part of these cookies is that the basic recipe remains the same:

1 ½ - 2 cups ground almonds
¼ cup melted coconut oil
¼ cup maple syrup
½ cup raisins
1 egg (optional and very much according to personal taste – including it will create a softer cookie.  For the record: Vida Lev likes the egg while DW prefers without.)

Preheat the oven to 175 Centigrade (347 Fahrenheit)

Using an ice cream scoop, drop the cookie batter on a non-stick baking sheet in even mounds.  Flatten lightly with a wet fork (optional). 

Bake for 9-11 minutes, depending on your oven.  The cookies should come out of the oven slightly browned around the edges but still soft.  Allow to cool completely before serving.

And when I run out of one ingredient, I substitute another without fuss: so far, we’ve done the plain version, a batch with honey, some with and some without vanilla, and one with banana and rosemary.  Sometimes I’ve blended the ingredients together, other times I’ve left the raisins intact.  These are low-maintenance cookies for sure.

They’re so insanely easy.  It makes me wonder why I bother with the more complicated stuff. 

But another, unexpected development has emerged: using the basic recipe as a template, the inhabitants of my virtual as well as my in-person world have started making these cookies and in doing so they have adapted this recipe in a myriad of ways.  People have been making it their own, changing things around to suit their unique palate and best of all, they’ve let me know about it.  It’s been wonderful to read about in emails and see the results in pictures.

So much so that I’ve been inspired to reach out to the larger community.

Here’s the idea: if you have or are interested in making your own version of my Everyday Cookies, I’d love to hear about it.  Please send me your additions, subtractions, changes and adaptations as well as any information you’d like me to include about you.  Photographs are welcome too. 

Please email your entry no later than October 12th, 2011 to: Gabriela at thepickyfoodie.com

In order to show my appreciation for our similarities and our diversity, participants will receive an e-copy of the collected recipes.

N.B. On a side-note, Jennifer Perillo needs our help.  Bloggers Without Borders have created #afundforjennie to help her and her children in this difficult time.  Please check out their site and bid or donate what you can.  

Somewhere along the way, I lost my sense of direction.  The map I had drawn got washed along with my favourite flea market jeans.  I was sixteen and couldn’t remember where I was supposed to turn to get where I wanted to go.

The first time I revealed to someone I loved and trusted that I wanted to be a writer, I took what was, for me, a huge leap of faith.  It was a deep and scary revelation that took all of my courage.  Their response broke my heart:

“Why would you want to do that?” they said with a chuckle that felt like a smack across my cheek, “you can’t make a living at it, and besides, who would be interested in anything YOU have to say?”

Though I am no longer in contact with this person, their words shut me down for years.  Unable to get past the question about who my audience would be, I froze – I didn’t have the answer and couldn’t muster the guts to find out.  Because what if they were right and nobody read my words?  I couldn’t bear the thought of pouring my soul onto the page and having it be rejected.  

Though I was able to get that person out of my life, their words continued to haunt me.  To this day, when I’m struggling with my writing, I can hear that familiar voice telling me I’m not good enough.  With time, I have learned to recognize it for what it is.  And now, after years of hiding and procrastinating, I have finally decided to take that leap once more. 

The kitchen is my sanctuary.  It’s where I go when I’m sad or angry or frustrated.  It’s my safe place.  Somehow, I seem to have more courage in the kitchen.  Because here’s the thing: I am a terrible baker.  My cakes, gluten-free and vegan, come out crumbly or hard, too gummy or not sweet enough.  Sometimes – believe it or not – my cakes come out all of the above, and it takes a certain talent to make a cake that is both crumbly and gummy!

I guess with cake as with fiction, it’s about accepting that your first draft will probably be terrible.  In fact, it’s supposed to be terrible.  Not that that’s easy to admit to yourself or pleasant to hear or acknowledge.  But only by doing something over and over, by ripping it to shreds and really analysing what needs to be improved can you get good.  Like writing.  Or baking.

Recently I have been spending a lot of time on Jennifer Perillo’s blog.  When I saw this cake, although, as I say, my baking leaves a lot to be desired, I decided I had to attempt it -- Picky Foodie style of course.

The result? 

I’m pretty sure I will bake better cakes in the future.  But I’ve definitely done worse.  It wasn’t too gummy or too crumbly and it wasn’t too hard.  Amazingly, it stayed together quite well in that you can pick up a piece and comfortably take a bite without losing half of it along the way.  It could possibly have been a little sweeter -- the kind of cake you could have for breakfast or for dessert -- and I suspect it will complement DW’s afternoon tea really well.

Best of all?  I love the feeling of having another draft under my belt and my baking seems to have really improved in that my raspberry cake was at least edible.  I’m going to make this one again, try for better, keep working towards that elusive perfect Picky Foodie cake.

Calorie-wise, at least, I think writing will be easier than baking.  So there’s another reason to give this fiction thing another shot.  In the mean time, however, I think I’ll go brew some rosehip and hibiscus tea and cut myself another little piece.  

Raspberry Cake
(adapted from Jennifer Perillo’s Raspberry Olive Oil Cake)

Makes one 10-inch cake

2 cups Bob’s Red Mill gluten free All Purpose flour
¼ cup coconut sugar
1 T maple syrup
2 t baking powder
¼ t coarse salt
2 T ground flax seeds briefly soaked in 2 T water
1 T melted coconut oil (and a little more to grease the pan)
2 t vanilla extract
½ cup coconut milk
2 c frozen raspberries
1 mashed banana

Preheat the oven to 350 Fahrenheit / 175 Centigrade

Sift together the dry ingredients.

Whisk together the wet ingredients, leaving out the raspberries.

Combine the two and then fold in the raspberries.

Grease a 10 inch round cake pan with a little coconut oil and then pour in the batter.  Bake for 45 minutes.  Allow to cool slightly and then remove the cake from within the cake pan but keep the bottom. 

Once the cake has cooled down completely, indulge in a piece and wait for the muse to find you.

I meant to post the pineapple picture for a week.  We were leaving to Israel and –is this weird? – I don’t like to advertise when we’re going away.  DW calls me a “a healthy mix between constructive paranoid and psycho.”  Possibly… 

So I put up the photograph, and finished packing our bags.

It was supposed to be a relatively simple, fun family-reunion.

But then it all went pear-shaped.

First there was a family emergency.  Five days of hell, while we waited for tests results and all kinds of levels to rise, fall and generally even out. 

Then there was the aftermath when we all looked at one another in a state of shock and tried to enjoy what was left of the ummm holiday (?).  However, nobody told Vida Lev that sleeping in was an option, so we remained exhausted even after three days at the beach.   

I will say this: it wasn’t all bad.  Vida swam in the ocean for the first time.  She tried all kinds of interesting and fun things: petting her grandmother’s cat, watermelon, proper Middle Eastern hummus. Our little girl also took her first steps.

And in the middle of it all, I baked cookies.

There was something wonderfully soothing about mixing together the ingredients, sticking them in the oven, waiting for them to cool and then enjoying them.  The mundane amidst the chaos reminds us that somewhere out there, life is still going on as normal. 

Originally these cookies were intended so that Vida Lev would have something to nosh on when she got hungry in her pram.  But when my grandmother tasted one and promptly requested that I show my mother how to make them, I thought I might be on to something.  The deal was sealed when my brother – who hates raisins – happily polished them off.

Everyday Cookies

Preheat the oven to 175 Centigrade / 350 Fahrenheit

In a large mixing bowl, combine the following ingredients:
-  1 ½ - 2 cups ground almonds (less makes for a softer cookie, more makes for a heartier one)
-  2 t vanilla (I use pure vanilla bean powder)
-  ¼ cup melted coconut oil
-  ½ cup raisins
-  ¼ cup maple syrup

Once those are well-combined, add
-  1 egg*

Using an ice cream scoop, drop the cookie batter on a non-stick baking sheet in even mounds.  Flatten lightly with a wet fork (optional). 
Bake for 9-11 minutes, depending on your oven.  The cookies should come out of the oven slightly browned around the edges but still soft. 
Allow to cool completely before serving.

* Note: a friend of mine made these without the egg (I simply forgot to mention it on the ingredients’ list).  In her words: “These cookies are going to be a problem…  We made them, licked the bowl clean and ate five between us.” 
So I’m going to try this (vegan) version next time.
To my friend, I would like to say: Dearest, after the month that just passed, believe me, those should be our problems :)

UPDATE
I have now made these cookies without the egg -- so completely vegan.  In fact, I even omitted the vanilla by accident (15 minutes to baby's bed time, empty fridge, food needed for tomorrow's outing -- you do the math).  DW agreed to be the taster.  He proclaimed them "Oh My God" and "better than with the egg," saying they tasted "buttery," and "like shortbread."  I'll take that as a yes.  
Without the egg, I baked the cookies as instructed above for 11 minutes.  Then I turned the tray around, switched off the oven and left them in for another 10 or so.