Showing posts with label vegetarianism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vegetarianism. Show all posts

How to End One Year and Begin Another

If our calendars made sense the new year would start the day after the December solstice. We make it through the shortest day and longest night (for those of us in the Northern Hemisphere). We begin to turn toward the light, toward warmth, toward growth.

Or maybe instead of immediately writing a new date we would have a set of "un-days". Days that appear on no one's calendar (except those that bring you wages or benefits). Days with no work, no expectations. Time dedicated to wrapping things up, taking stock, making everything clean and organized or catching up on sleep. Whatever it takes to feel refreshed and recharged, ready to begin again.

We don't have that. Instead we have a hurly-burly of various traditions that mark the turn toward the light but in so doing create expectations and pressure.

Buy this, cook that. Wrap this, decorate that. Don't clean to create a fresh, calming space -- clean so that people can be impressed by your housekeeping and then mess it all up so you have it to do all over again.

That's what I grew up with. My mom created a beautiful Christmas every year with delicious food, she selected and wrapped gifts with care, she made dozens of cookies of various types to create those magazine-ready plates, she decorated the whole house and everything smelled good. She also didn't work full-time outside the home.

We're done with that model and it feels pretty damn good.

It helps not to have small children who are subjected to social pressure that creates expectations that fall on parents. We have grown kids who profess delight with the cash and gift cards and whatever we feel like cooking.

This year it isn't exactly a "help" that I ended up really sick with a respiratory flu the week before a planned two-week vacation. The days that had few meetings, that I would have spent writing and analyzing and dealing with the email backlog in peace and quiet, turned into days lying on the sofa with generic cough/flu syrup, a water bottle, my Kindle, and some pillows to soften my fall into the sleep that kept dragging me downward to the horizontal.

Oh well. It is what it is.

That's the key to my winter holiday plan: It is what it is.

Examples of what this looks like as I do the things I enjoy, maintain continuity with my memories in ways that work for who I am today, and keep it manageable:

No Christmas tree. 

Instead, Second Daughter and I spent a very pleasant day (on a weekend before the flu hit) going through the ornaments. I had accumulated a bunch I didn't really care about, and had some I got to give each of the kids a start on their own collection. We sorted these out and made a box for Youngest who wants to build up her collection.

I used the ones I like to decorate windowsills and hung them from lamps. We have a cheerfully decorated living space that will be easy to clean up and I emptied one of the storage boxes from the garage as part of my ongoing downsizing.

No giant spread of forty-'leven kinds of cookies. 

I experimented a week or so ago with a vegan shortcake. Pro tip: don't substitute ground almonds for part of the flour or you'll have a gooey something that tastes good but isn't shortcake. Next time I may try this cardamom snickerdoodle recipe instead.

While Second Daughter was there for the weekend I made a batch of cinnamon stars from the 1963 Betty Crocker Cookbook I grew up with because they sounded interesting and were pretty easy. I also made (with her help) the one cookie I'll make every year due to popular demand, the candy cane cookies topped with crushed peppermints/sugar from that same cookbook. Talking about this cookbook on Twitter led to a fun exchange.




In years past I've made spritz with my mom's old cookie press; frosted cookies that took forever and honestly were more interesting to look at than to eat and thus not worth the effort; snickerdoodles with green and red sprinkles because snickerdoodles are The Cookie for me as long as they're bendy in the middle; and various other treats.

Cooking what I feel like eating, spread over a few days instead of in one massive blowout that encourages overeating.

The flu is passing and cooking is one of my favorite things to do when I have a whole day and no time pressure. Yesterday I made a batch of Sarah Gailey's lasagna (did you know "lasagna" is the singular and "lasagne" is the plural?).

Today we made a grocery run to get ingredients for things I feel like cooking and eating over the next few days while Second Daughter hangs out for some cuddle time and Mom cooking. These recipes let me make maximum use of oven heat and will yield some leftovers I can freeze for future lunches. The list is likely to include:

  • Portabello mushrooms stuffed with something along the lines of quinoa, sweet bell peppers, and pine nuts, topped with vegan romesco or muhamarra (it's a toss-up -- love them both)
  • Roasted butternut squash with really good 25-year-old balsamic vinegar (the kind that pours like rich syrup, from The Oilerie in Burien where we did some tasting on one of our coffeeneuring dates as part of my birthday celebrating that stretched over a few weeks) and some chili garlic oil my younger sister gave me on one of our sisters' weekends, with the option of regular feta or a vegan feta I found in a nicely expanded vegan section at Fred Meyer
  • Roasted broccoli because I love it
  • Champagne mashed potatoes, another Sarah Gailey recipe she shared in a series of tweets starting with this one
  • Waldorf salad with a vegan cashew cream dressing (the one from the recipe below) or the yogurt-based dressing from this vegan Waldorf salad recipe
  • Vegan broccoli/red grape salad with dressing options: Thai peanut or a balsamic vinaigrette because I have those on hand. To this recipe I always add shredded red cabbage, grated carrots, and some diced sweet bell peppers in various colors. It's beautiful and tasty.
  • Southern lemon pie with a saltine cracker crust that I'm going to try converting to vegan. I link to the NPR story with the recipe because that's what got me started making this. I found a recipe for vegan sweetened condensed (coconut) milk and picked up some vegan spread to use in the crust in place of butter.
  • Vegan cream of mushroom soup. Super simple and so delicious. Last time I made this I had some cauliflower I needed to use up. I boiled that and a few potatoes, pureed them in the food processor with some homemade veggie broth, and made that part of the creamy base for the soup. It was fantastic. I add celery to this recipe.
  • Decidedly unvegan cornbread from an old New York Times Magazine recipe that involves pouring whipping cream into the middle to create a custardy center, baked in a heated cast iron pan for a crispy crust.
  • Vegan nog, which takes all of about 5 minutes because I have nut milk and coconut milk on hand and make cashew cream ahead and keep it in the freezer

This sounds like a lot. But my mom would have done something like this list plus a turkey, gravy, three more kinds of pie, glazed carrots, peas and mushrooms in a wine sauce, and rolls, all for one day in which she also trotted out at least half a dozen homemade hors d'oeuvres platters and the forty-leven cookie varieties.

I'm doing my cooking spread out over at least two days, maybe three. And this list is only one in my head, not something to which I've committed that a dozen or more people will show up to eat at a specific date and time.

No gift shopping on a timeline. Don't get me wrong; I love giving gifts. I like giving them at times people aren't expecting them as a "just because".

I don't ignore the gift-giving element at this time of year; I'm enough of a product of my upbringing that it would feel pretty cold not to give a gift now. But it's sure easier when I don't have to fight people at the mall.

I gave Eldest Daughter and her beau a movie gift card early so they could use it for the Star Wars opening and they now have half a dozen or so movie dates to look forward to. (She also got dental work paid for, which is a little challenging to wrap....) Second Daughter is going to get a shopping expedition to prepare her for some international travel with things she needs (or things I think she needs, like mosquito netting and a rechargeable flashlight -- shhh, don't tell her). Engineering Student Son gets a gift certificate for the online gaming platform he frequents. Youngest Daughter -- yep, another gift certificate.

Seriously, I remember the year my mom finally gave up trying to guess at my personal style and instead just sent me downtown with her credit cards as one of the best Christmases ever so this is not a copout, this is responsive parenting.

As for Sweet Hubs, the other thing I did to make the end of the old year and the beginning of the new year pretty perfect was to book a getaway to the hotel where we spent our honeymoon. We'll celebrate our date-a-versary there: the 14th anniversary of our first date, which happens to fall on my parents' wedding anniversary. We'll have a fireplace, a spa tub, a view of the ocean, and no expectations other than being together.

That's how to end the old year and start the new year. Relaxed, happy, content, in love. It is what it is.


Adventures in Eating: Whether Vegan or Omnivore There's a List for You

I first saw the vegan version of this Vegan 100 list on Girl Goes Vegan, who borrowed it from someone who borrowed it from someone.... You know how these things are. 

That sent me in search of the original Omnivore's 100 on the Very Good Taste blog. As Jill and Andrew, the creators of the list, wrote there, "The list includes fine food, strange food, everyday food and even some pretty bad food—but a good omnivore should really try it all."

The vegan list as published left some things on it from the original (like haggis!) so I deleted the stray meat items and made it 100% vegetarian/vegan.

I've been a vegetarian for I don't quite know how long--maybe eight or nine years? Before that I had the chance to try some unusual things at the North Idaho College annual Wild Game Feast and at a dinner prepared by the Idaho Outfitters and Guides Association back in my legislative days. So I'm able to score pretty well on both lists thanks to my former life as an omnivore. (In fact, they don't list bear meat on the omnivore's list but I've had it. It's better in years the bears get lots of berries and honey.)

Your mission, should you choose to accept it:
1) Copy this list into your own blog, including these instructions.
2) Bold all the items you’ve eaten.
3) Cross out any items that you would never consider eating.
4) What’s left are things you have not eaten yet that you would try.

(I note that my blog's style sheet makes the links look as if they're in boldface when they're not.)

The Vegan 100
  1. Natto
  2. Green Smoothie
  3. Tofu Scramble
  4. Agave nectar
  5. Mangosteen
  6. Creme brulee
  7. Fondue
  8. Marmite/Vegemite
  9. Borscht
  10. Baba ghanoush
  11. Nachos
  12. Authentic soba noodles
  13. PB&J sandwich
  14. Aloo gobi
  15. Taco from a street cart (yes, if they have a vegetarian option)
  16. Boba tea
  17. Black truffle (can't wait!)
  18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes
  19. Gyoza
  20. Vanilla ice cream
  21. Heirloom tomatoes
  22. Fresh wild berries
  23. Rice and beans
  24. Knish
  25. Raw scotch bonnet pepper  (because I'm not crazy and I've read about Scoville units)
  26. Dulce de leche
  27. Baklava
  28. Pate (vegetarian, yes; diced fatty liver, no thanks)
  29. Wasabi peas (yum!) 
  30. Chowder in a sourdough bowl
  31. Mango lassi
  32. Sauerkraut
  33. Root beer float
  34. Mulled cider
  35. Scones with buttery spread and jam
  36. Vodka jelly
  37. Gumbo (without meat)
  38. Fast food french fries
  39. Raw brownies
  40. Fresh Garbanzo Beans
  41. Dahl (also spelled dal)
  42. Homemade soymilk
  43. Wine from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more
  44. Stroopwafel (these sound delicious!)
  45. Samosas
  46. Vegetable Sushi
  47. Glazed doughnut
  48. Seaweed
  49. Prickly pear
  50. Umeboshi (I haven't had the fruit yet but I've had the vinegar made from it)
  51. Tofurkey
  52. Sheese (I haven't had this particular brand but I've had fake cheese, which is why I'm a vegetarian and not a vegan)
  53. Cotton candy
  54. Gnocchi
  55. Piña colada
  56. Birch beer
  57. Carob chips
  58. S’mores
  59. Soy curls (kind of leathery and not worth it)
  60. Chickpea cutlets
  61. Curry
  62. Durian
  63. Homemade Sausages (vegan/vegetarian)
  64. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake
  65. Smoked tofu
  66. Fried plantain
  67. Mochi
  68. Gazpacho
  69. Warm chocolate chip cookies
  70. Absinthe
  71. Corn on the cob
  72. Whipped cream, straight from the can
  73. Pomegranate
  74. Fauxstess cupcake (what a fun recipe! memories of childhood)
  75. Mashed potatoes with gravy (I have a great vegetarian gravy recipe from my 3 Bowls cookbook)
  76. Jerky (vegetarian/vegan)
  77. Croissants
  78. French onion soup (it is entirely possible to make a wonderful, rich French onion soup without meat stock. I've done it.)
  79. Savory crepes (again thanks to the 3 Bowls cookbook, I have a recipe for crepes made with chickpea flour stuffed with garlicky green beans)
  80. Moussaka
  81. Sprouted grains or seeds
  82. Macaroni and “cheese”
  83. Flowers
  84. Matzoh ball soup (vegetarian/vegan)
  85. White chocolate
  86. Seitan
  87. Kimchi
  88. Butterscotch chips
  89. Yellow watermelon
  90. Chili with chocolate
  91. Potato milk
  92. Polenta
  93. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee
  94. Raw cookie dough
  95. Portabello mushrooms
  96. Morels
  97. Black rice
  98. Sun-dried tomatoes
  99. Bagels
  100. Capers
The VGT Omnivore’s Hundred
  1. Venison
  2. Nettle tea
  3. Huevos rancheros
  4. Steak tartare
  5. Crocodile
  6. Black pudding (aka blood pudding)
  7. Cheese fondue
  8. Carp
  9. Borscht
  10. Baba ghanoush
  11. Calamari
  12. Pho
  13. PB&J sandwich
  14. Aloo gobi
  15. Hot dog from a street cart
  16. Epoisses
  17. Black truffle
  18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes
  19. Steamed pork buns
  20. Pistachio ice cream
  21. Heirloom tomatoes
  22. Fresh wild berries
  23. Foie gras
  24. Rice and beans
  25. Brawn, or head cheese
  26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper (see note above about Scoville units!)
  27. Dulce de leche
  28. Oysters
  29. Baklava
  30. Bagna cauda (if they'll leave out the anchovies I'll give it a try)
  31. Wasabi peas
  32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl
  33. Salted lassi (I've only had the sweet mango lassi)
  34. Sauerkraut
  35. Root beer float
  36. Cognac with a fat cigar (I've had cognac and I've tried a cigar--just not together)
  37. Clotted cream tea
  38. Vodka jelly/Jell-O
  39. Gumbo
  40. Oxtail
  41. Curried goat
  42. Whole insects (my dad told us he'd eaten chocolate-covered ants and grasshoppers while he was overseas during World War II; he said the legs stick in your teeth)
  43. Phaal (although it sounds vegetarian I think I'll pass; see Scoville units reference above)
  44. Goat’s milk
  45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more
  46. Fugu (being a vegetarian means not having to eat potentially poisonous fish)
  47. Chicken tikka masala
  48. Eel
  49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut
  50. Sea urchin
  51. Prickly pear
  52. Umeboshi
  53. Abalone
  54. Paneer (I had truly fresh homemade paneer, no less, thanks to dear friend Maggie teaching an Indian cooking class in my kitchen for a bunch of girlfriends)
  55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal
  56. Spaetzle
  57. Dirty gin martini (just not a big fan of olives)
  58. Beer above 8% ABV
  59. Poutine
  60. Carob chips
  61. S’mores
  62. Sweetbreads
  63. Kaolin (well, as it's an ingredient in Kaopectate I guess in a way I have, but not directly!)
  64. Currywurst
  65. Durian
  66. Frogs’ legs
  67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake
  68. Haggis
  69. Fried plantain
  70. Chitterlings, or andouillette
  71. Gazpacho
  72. Caviar and blini
  73. Louche absinthe
  74. Gjetost, or brunost
  75. Roadkill
  76. Baijiu
  77. Hostess Fruit Pie (heck, in those lunches Mom packed I encountered many a Hostess product: Twinkies, Ho Hos, Ding Dongs, cupcakes)
  78. Snail
  79. Lapsang souchong
  80. Bellini
  81. Tom yum (if I can get a vegetarian version, yes)
  82. Eggs Benedict
  83. Pocky
  84. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant.
  85. Kobe beef
  86. Hare (but I've had rabbit)
  87. Goulash
  88. Flowers
  89. Horse
  90. Criollo chocolate
  91. Spam
  92. Soft shell crab
  93. Rose harissa (but watch the Scovilles....)
  94. Catfish
  95. Mole poblano
  96. Bagel and lox
  97. Lobster Thermidor
  98. Polenta
  99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee
  100. Snake
Your turn

What isn't on either list that you think a well-rounded palate should experience? Any stories about adventures in eating? 

P.S. Given the number of links to Wikipedia on this page, we all might consider making a donation!

Yet another 11 little secrets

Read this post by Christopher Penn (@cspenn) and this post by Olivier Blanchard (@thebrandbuilder), then come back. With one exception noted below, these are right in line with what I do to feel happier and healthier. In fact, they were so good it was hard to come up with 11 new points here….
  1. Give the gift of time to things you care about. It’s easy to click a link to “like” someone’s statement on Facebook, become a fan of a page endorsing a political position, or hit the retweet button on Twitter. It’s more difficult to haul yourself down to City Hall to testify or show up for thankless committee meetings for a fundraiser to help feed people. Your effort input provides one of the multipliers in the psychic reward calculation: More in means more out. If you’re motivated by payback in the form of a paycheck, consider that you might end up connecting with a job working on whatever it is you care about through establishment of a reputation as a hard-working volunteer.
  2. Choose to be amused. Life is full of warts, wrinkles and speed bumps, any one of which can trigger grumping and growling. Or it can trigger a wry smile, a shrug, and an “Oh well, things happen.” Entirely up to you. Laughing is a whole lot more fun than sobbing any day of the week.
  3. Eat vegetarian. You may not want to become a vegetarian the way I did several years ago, but by making room on your plate for more plant fiber and less muscle fiber, you’ll lose weight (if you don’t go crazy on the cheese sauce), lower your fat intake, cholesterol and blood pressure, decrease the size of your carbon footprint, and discover amazing new taste sensations. Your mom will be proud, too.
  4. While you’re at it, eat real food. I already blogged about this, inspired by Michael Pollan’s In Defense of Food. If you’re eating meat, buy it from someone you can look in the eye and get meat that doesn’t give you a dose of antibiotics and growth hormones. Shop the outside edge of the grocery store and you’ll cut down (way down) on cost, sodium, weird chemical-ly additives you can’t pronounce and don’t understand, and packaging waste that you pay to have hauled away from your house.
  5. Ride a bike. Regain the feeling of freedom you had as a kid, when those two wheels meant you could get somewhere under your own power instead of waiting around for an adult with car keys. Even if you don’t make it your primary form of transportation, you’ll probably be amazed to learn how many destinations lie within a mile or two of your home if you live anywhere in or near a town. (If you live in the ‘burbs you might have to go a little farther to find a destination—that’s a choice you made. But little coffee shops and your local library might well make a pleasant loop on a Saturday afternoon.) Sure, you can walk—I’m all for walking—but if you’re the impatient type you’ll appreciate how much farther and faster you can go on a bike.
  6. Schedule time with friends.  That’s right, I said “schedule.” If you leave it to chance your calendar will fill up. So don’t leave it to chance. I had the incredibly sad experience recently of losing a dear friend who was far too young. I literally had her name on a list in my Outlook Tasks (yes, I’m serious) labeled “Set coffee or lunch” because I hadn’t seen her in a while. I was too late. She was inspiration for a girlfriend group I started up years ago that’s still going strong and so many of them have said how much they like having a regular time on the calendar to sit and talk. Make a commitment.
  7. You love people. Tell them. We tend to reserve “I love you” for our romantic attachments. If you’re like me, there are special people in your life you love for all the gifts they’ve given you: understanding, a sympathetic ear, advice that grounds you in who you are, side-splitting gut-busting laughter, late-night discussions over a glass of something nice. Yes, it took the death of a friend to remind me of how short life is. Don’t pass on chances to tell people  you care about how deeply you appreciate having them in your life.
  8. Sing even if you’re lousy. I’m betting it’s been a while since you sang just because you felt like it. Don’t be shy. Unless you’re regular in attendance at some sort of religious service or you get paid for your awesome pipes, you probably have few occasions to sing. Some people sing along with a radio or iPod—that totally counts since I can never remember all the lyrics to songs I think I know. I live with two daughters who have beautiful voices that leave me in awe when they sing. They did not get this ability from me.  Nonetheless I sing (granted, sometimes with apologies for my unplanned key changes).
  9. Slow down. If you’re eating something delicious don’t fork it in as fast as possible. You’ll get more flavor sensations if you stop between bites. If you’re driving, time the difference in one of your usual trips between driving over the speed limit (you know you do it) and observing the speed limit all the way there. Bet you’re not cutting as many minutes off as you think you are. If you’re reading an amazing book (I’m really guilty of devouring books rapidly), stop a minute to reflect on how the author managed to create such vivid scenes. If you’re about to send an angry email—this one’s a biggie—stop, reread it, and think about how you’d feel if you were the recipient instead of the sender. Savor the flavor.
  10. Smile. At people you don’t know, neighbors out in their yards, the guy who holds the door for you on your way into the store, the person behind the customer service counter who’s going to sort out this whole gnarly warranty mess you’re holding. Smile when you’re on the phone—it makes a difference in your voice.  I already said you can choose your response to life's hiccups, but this is about the physical act of smiling. It appears that our brains actually "listen" to our bodies to develop our mood and emotion, so smiling when you’re not cheerful will help you cheer up. (Seriously—there’s research on this.)
  11. Be kind. As I've said before, this is a lesson I learned from my mother. There is too little kindness in the world. Add to the supply.
  12. (Bonus item!) Create your own version of “what I did on my summer vacation” that does not involve electronic communication. Do it. I took a long blogging hiatus last year. The list of things I did instead of hanging out excessively online reflects my idea of the good life. You have your own. Live it.
In case you ignored my original directive because you wanted to plunge straight into the awesomeness that is my blog, here are those two posts again:

Not Exactly a Recipe for Potato Soup: My Vegetarian Trickery

potato chowder made by Julia, delicious!Image by Lloyd Budd via Flickr

My soups are never the same two times running even if I start with the same basic ingredients. I don’t use recipes most of the time. How far astray can you go with vegetables, some kind of grain or legume, and some herbs? Season, taste and adjust.

That said, Eldest Daughter particularly liked a particular batch of my potato soup so I’ll try to capture a quasi-recipe.

She did ask me what “all those little white dots” were in the soup, examining it closely.

That’s where the vegetarian trickery comes in. To make sure we get enough protein, I hide pureed beans in all kinds of things. If you eat a dark soup at my house and it has a luscious stewlike consistency, you can say, “Thank you, pureed black beans.”

In this case the little white dots were pureed white beans. I've since discovered that Sweet Husband is allergic to those so I now leave them out, making this recipe something of a historical artifact: "Soup the way I used to make it."

If you really want great ways to use pureed beans, find a copy of a 20-year-old recipe book called The Brilliant Bean, by Sally and Martin Stone. They have wonderful desserts including a killer Chocolate Torte (hiding more of those pureed black beans) and a flourless garbanzo lemon cake that works for the gluten-free.

One of the challenges in capturing any of my recipes that don’t require finely calibrated proportions of ingredients is that I don’t measure quantities, so amounts below for seasonings are guesstimates on the low end. You can always add more to oomph up the flavor quotient.

Start sautéing over medium heat in large soup pot on stove while you work on chopping up the rest of the ingredients:
  • 1 large onion (or 2, if you’re just crazy about onions), diced
  • (This step can also involve leeks, if you have some on hand; clean well, slice white part and some of the tender green)
  • 1-2 T. olive oil (just enough to coat the bottom of the pot)
When onions have softened and start to brown around the edges a bit, add:
  • 3-5 cloves garlic (more if small), crushed or finely chopped
  • 1 t. basil
  • 1 t. dill weed
  • ½ t. thyme
  • ½ t. rosemary (grind, pound in pestle, or do something to reduce the big twigs to smaller bits if your family doesn’t like the sensation of eating an evergreen)
  • ½ t. pepper (white, if you have it--cuts down on black specks in a white soup)
  • ½ t. turmeric (optional; adds a nice rich buttery color)
  • 1 bay leaf
(I like adding some of the herbs at this point so the flavors are brought out by direct application of heat)

Chop and add:
  • 8 or so potatoes, cubed (I don’t peel them because I want the fiber and vitamins, but you can; use Idaho russets, red potatoes, Yukon gold, or whatever you have on hand, although those purple ones might make it look a little weird)
  • 2-3 stalks celery
Let these ingredients cook for about 10 minutes, stirring frequently so the potatoes don’t stick to the pan. Meanwhile, puree in a blender in two batches:
  • 2 cans fat-free evaporated milk
  • 2 cans white beans (Great Northern)
  • Optional blender item: ½-1 c. cottage cheese or cream cheese; adds some creaminess to the finished product. You can use light cream cheese, but the nonfat stuff just won’t blend in, so don’t go there.
Rinse all the cans out with a little water and throw that in the blender too.

Add the bean/milk puree to the pot and stir. If you’d like more liquid, add more milk (regular or evaporated), vegetable broth, or water. My parents grew up during the Depression, so I rinse the blender with some water and throw that in, so as not to waste a single bit.

Let the soup simmer over low heat for 60 minutes, stirring very frequently unless you want that milk crusty ickiness on the bottom of the pan.

At some point, if you have parmesan or feta cheese on hand and want to throw in a little, that adds a nice touch of flavor and a lot of fat. Or you can save it to sprinkle just a tablespoon on top.

Optional ingredients to add toward the end if you like them: Microwave a cup of frozen corn. You could also add peas or mixed vegetables, but it gets further away from being chowdery. Diced red or green bell pepper adds nice color.

Toward the end, add 1 t. salt. Taste and adjust the seasonings. I found myself adding some garlic powder and more pepper, including a dash of cayenne because we like things pretty peppery. If you don't want the little black flecks, getcherself some white pepper; then you'll just have little grey flecks.

Serve with grated cheddar or parmesan cheese on top, diced green onions or chopped chives or parsley if you have them. Enjoy!

Recipe time: Interpretation of a kinda chunky Tomato/Red Bell Pepper/Black Bean Soup



This is more a set of guidelines for arriving at a soup than it is a hard and fast recipe. Adjust anything to suit your taste buds. Heck, you could probably leave out the tomatoes, although you’d have to change the name. (I’ve never done that so I won’t vouch for the results.)
Made with simple tools: knife, can opener, blender, cooking pot.

Chop a large onion and start it sauteing in a dab of olive oil.
After a few minutes when the onion is starting to soften and turn golden, mince or crush 4-5 garlic cloves and add them. Turn the stove down a bit—overcooked garlic gets bitter fast.
Add 1-2 t. basil, 1 t. dill, ½ t. crushed red bell pepper flakes, ½ t. black pepper. (I’ve also tried using a Cajun spice blend in place of this, and it was great. You could turn this a little more Italian with some thyme and rosemary, too. Follow your heart on this one.)
While this continues to cook, filling the house with a wonderful aroma that brings hungry family members in, sniffing eagerly, put your blender to work. Puree in batches and add to the pot:
3-4 cans diced tomatoes with juice, or the equivalent in real tomatoes from the garden if you’re lucky enough to have those
1 large can roasted red bell peppers
1 can black (or kidney) beans (you'll have little flecks of bean skin)
1 can evaporated milk (I use fat-free), or go for half-and-half or cream
Approx. ½ c. sun-dried tomatoes if you have them
I’ve been known to puree leftover cooked carrots or squash and throw that in, too, or I may grate some carrots, microwave them until soft, and puree them. Not an essential element.
Add 1 t. salt and 1 T. balsamic vinegar if you have it, or red wine vinegar. If you’re big on garlic, add another 1-2 cloves crushed garlic at this point. If you want it creamier and a little lighter in flavor, add another can of evaporated milk.
You can let this simmer as-is. I usually take ladles of soup out and re-puree them to get the onions smooshed up a bit more. I don’t do this scientifically—I just ladle some out, puree it, return it, and try to get my next few scoops from a different spot in the pot.
This seems to work just fine, but if you’re really conscientious about smooth, creamy soup, then you’ll have to empty the whole pot and puree every bit. Good luck with that. Either way you’ll still have bits of black bean skin floating around. This is a soup with character.
Allow to simmer 20-30 minutes. Taste and adjust seasonings. I typically add a little more pepper at this point, maybe another garlic clove or two, maybe some salt. You can stir in a tablespoon or two of pesto, or swirl that into individual soup bowls if you like some presentation style.
Killer good with parmesan garlic toast, grilled cheese sandwiches, or crunchy croutons. Those are not included in the nutritional analysis below for one-cup servings, created at Nutritiondata.com.



Eating shoots and leaves: Real food, not bad grammar

I spent most of the morning running errands/shopping with my best friend, with our only sustenance an eight-ounce eggnog latte (eggnog lattes have not yet left the coffee places in their seasonal migration). I’m home, I’m tired, and I’m dining on…. One cup of spinach, one cup of red cabbage, a handful of mixed nuts, and some Newman’s Own Low-Fat Sesame Ginger Vinaigrette.


This is not because I’ve read the latest diet book—or have I? I’m over halfway through Michael Pollan’s wonderful In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto, and I’m eating real food. Not too much. Mostly plants.

As a vegetarian I have a head start on his food philosophy, with several reasons for not eating meat (of any kind—four legs, legs and wings, fins, shells):
  • my generally Buddhist approach to life and my personal ethical boundaries;
  • the environmental cost of meat production (even organic or free-range meat requires more resources per calorie than plants);
  • the health benefits of being a vegetarian (my enviably low blood cholesterol count, for example);
  • and initially, the greater ease of preparing meals for my family after Younger Daughter became a vegetarian at around age eight. (I’d be in trouble if I didn’t credit her as the first one in the family; I followed next, then Eldest Daughter, and Sweet Husband and Younger Children go along perforce because that’s what I cook.)
As a young woman I had a fairly typical obsession with my own weight and the foods that made it go up or down. I drank Slim-Fast, ate Ayds (remember those? Chocolate-flavored diet candies that were supposed to squelch your hunger pangs), and took diet pills on occasion. I’ve never been big on drinking soda, thank heavens, but when I did it was always Diet Coke, not regular Coke.

I’ve long since moved past that to a healthier relationship with food, in which it is here to sustain my health and to be enjoyed. My daily session with the scales now is meant to measure my progress in bike training for a more efficient power-to-weight ratio (less flab means more muscle to push up the hills).

I think we eat fewer processed foods than most U.S. households. My mac and cheese doesn’t come from a box (but Eldest Daughter’s does—she loves mac and cheese from a box so she buys her own). Sweet Husband makes a killer-good marinara from scratch. Because I make terrific soup, I haven’t had canned soup since I was a kid and Mom fed me Campbell’s Chicken and Stars when I got sick (I do get nostalgic for the little stars).

But I’ve succumbed to the “nutritionism” that Pollan writes about in some ways: a reductionist view of food in which it becomes only its constituent parts, and then only the constituent parts that have been analyzed successfully in a lab.
  • I buy skim milk and low-fat yogurt.
  • I have sugar-free hazelnut-flavored sweetener in my cupboard for my morning coffee.
  • There’s a bag of ground flaxseed in the fridge so I can add a spoonful of omega-3 “good fats” to my fruit smoothies, and soy protein in the cupboard to use in place of flour as a thickener for “cream” sauces (made with fat-free evaporated milk and pureed white beans, not actual cream).
  • In making substitutions to turn a meat-a-tarian recipe into a vegetarian version, I use the occasional meat analog made from textured vegetable protein, a highly processed soy product.

I don’t make New Year’s resolutions because those are a set-up for failure. I do a little reflection, though, during this quiet season where we pause in the cold and dark before the earth turns toward the sun again (in my hemisphere).

I’ve come partway toward where I want to be in my relationship with food. The rest of the journey will be fueled by real food, and it will be delicious.

You'll save us, won't you? My kids the idealists

Ann Handley inspired me with her piece Innocents at Home, about the optimistic and idealistic Millenials. Go read it now—I’ll wait (and hope that you come back—you could get lost reading her other posts, and I’d understand).

I have a couple of those innocent idealists at my place too, although Eldest Daughter would probably describe herself as more of a cynical pessimist or pragmatist than an idealist.

Eldest Daughter is 19 now. She loves it when I say that out loud, “my 19-year-old.” I am somewhat less fond of this, since I can't continue to be 35 in my head unless I had her at 16, which I didn't.

Her birth came six days after I was elected to the Idaho legislature on my birthday lo, these many moons ago. I went home from an organizing session the weekend after the election, woke up at 2 a.m. to pee, and my water broke. Nine weeks later, I was in Boise with her as a freshman legislator and new mom.

There was (I assume still is—legislative traditions don’t change quickly) a color-coded name tag system in use that let you identify people at a glance in the capitol: white type on black for House members, black type on white for Senate, white on green (the color of money) for registered lobbyists, white on red (the color of we’re-out-of-money) for staff in the executive branch.

My friend Jane, who at the time served as executive director of the Idaho Democratic Party, had name tags made for my baby and a girl born to another freshman D House member a week after mine (and here I thought I was so unique, campaigning pregnant and all). The name tag for my bundle o’ joy, burgundy type on light pink, read “District 2 Legislative Baby” with her name.

And thus, the die was cast: She’s always been a political baby. She has a poster of four-time Idaho Gov. Cecil Andrus autographed "to the future governor." She has been in parades doing the float queen wave, but not as a float queen--she walked alongside her mom the candidate. She has gone doorbelling a few times, although I quickly realized that people would think we were Jehovah's Witnesses if I brought a kid with me. She listens to NPR.

Second Daughter is 15, born in 1994 (the year I lost my re-election bid for the State Senate, after winning the seat in 1992). That means she was six in May 2001, about a month away from her seventh birthday, when U.S. Sen. Jim Jeffords announced he was leaving the Republican Party to become an Independent.

I remember it because she burst into the garage to announce, “Mom! Jim Jeffords left the Republicans! Now education will be safe!” She knew the balance of power in the Senate had changed and that the change would affect policy. (You may also guess from this that she had been exposed to influences and opinions from a Democrat.)

Let me repeat—she was six years old.

This is the same kid who, just a couple of years later after becoming a vegetarian, would walk around her elementary school handing notes to people that read “Save a cow—be a vegetarian” and “Cows don’t eat people—why should people eat cows?”. She carried a petition to gather signatures asking Skittles to remove gelatin from their recipe so it would be a vegetarian candy (which it is in Europe, apparently. What gives, Skittles?).

Second Daughter also quizzed me when she was in a math team in about fifth grade as to whether the president really needs to know math, since she plans to be president someday. (Her comment when Hillary Clinton was doing well in the 2008 primaries was, “No—I want to be the first woman president!” to which I responded, “Sweetie, I can’t wait that long—you won’t be 35 and eligible to run for another 20+ years”). (And yes, the president needs to know math.)

I remember reacting defensively when Eldest Daughter—at about age 12 or so—responded to some news story about environmental devastation by turning to me and saying, “Your generation ruined everything.”

Now, hang on just a second....

For one thing, I’m really from the very tippy-tippy-trailing-edge of the Baby Boomer generation, not dead center where the big rabbit sits in the boa constrictor, so it’s not my fault, right?

For another thing, that generation did manage to work its way--painfully at times--through civil rights, feminism, the Environmental Protection Act, access for people with disabilities, and other signs of progress. They/we didn’t ruin everything.

Still, she had a point. The consumption-driven economy creating/created by our nation’s wealth after World War II used up a lot, and we’re now seeing the cracks and potholes in that system.

My daughters think and talk about big issues. They recycle without having to think about it. When Eldest Daughter realized she wouldn't be able to vote in the historic 2008 presidential election, she said, "Oh, well, I'll get to vote in the school bond and levy!". They pay attention to the news. They accept, embrace and exemplify human differences I wasn’t even exposed to as a kid. They're smart and compassionate.

They’re going to save the world.

I’m counting on it.

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