White corn and red onions ~ Week of June 24th

Sorry I don’t have a picture for you. I know it’s so much nicer with pictures! I’ll give amounts, though, so you still have some idea of how much was in the box.

Here’s what came in our box this week:

Blueberries (6 oz.)
Apricots (1 lb.) (these were pretty bad)
Yellow peaches (6)
Broccoli (1 lb)
White corn (3 ears)
Pattypan squash (1.5 lb)
Red lead lettuce (1 large head)
Basil (1 bunch)
Carrots (1 small bunch)
Red onions (1 lb)
Fingerling potatoes (1 lb)

Reinventing an old favorite, better than ever

I woke up today and felt like making lasagna. Lasagna used to make an appearance a few times a year on my cooking rotation, combining long-simmered homemade red sauce with thick layers of creamy ricotta and chewy mozarella. Oh, and some garlicky spinach for color, of course. Then came cancer year, and the long list of “no” foods, and I created a “no”-food-friendly lasagna recipe for my mom and the other people in her treatement group that had lots of veggies and none of the forbidden stuff like refined flour or cheese or soy or meat or anything else that actually belongs in lasagna. It was pretty tasty, but not terribly filling. You had to eat about half a pan to feel satisfied, which is totally antithetical to the whole function of lasagna, which, as far as I’m concerned, is to spend more time than usual preparing a fairly elaborate dish, but then get a payoff which is that one small square of that jam-packed, densely layered dish can feed a family of four for a week.

lasagna

So today I woke up and felt like making lasagna for the first time in a long while, but this time it would need to be my first vegan, gluten-free, CFS-friendly lasagna. By CFS-friendly I mean that this would need to be a lasagna with the proper energy input-output equation; in other words, a few hours in the kitchen today that would translate to many “no problem, we’re having lasagna!” meals in the coming week.

As I gear up to recount the great lasagna adventure, now would be a perfect time to mention the big news of the summer. Not only has Farmer B returned at last from the East, she has brought her joyful sense of fun, gracious disposition, and farming/cooking/preserving/sauerkraut-and-kombucha-fermenting savvy and know-how into our home for the summer, and Duck and I could not be happier with our new housemate. Part of my inspiration to make lasagna was the amazing lentil, potato, carrot, mushroom dal Farmer B had made for us all the night before, spurring me to want to make an elaborate meal she could just relax and enjoy.

But of course, Farmer B being Farmer B, she had the day free and suggested that what could be more fun than making lasagna together, with her as my sous-chef, of course? So the great lasagna project got that much easier and a million times more fun. The only challenge that remained was figuring out what, exactly, would go in this thing. The gluten-free conversion for lasagna is easy since I’ve discovered Tinkyada brown rice pasta, the pasta that I actually prefer in texture and flavor to wheat pasta. But the vegan part is a bit trickier. There are many options – you can go the fake ground-meat route, or the soy-cheese route, or the just-veggies-and-red-sauce route, or, my personal favorite, the tofu-ricotta route.

I hate soy cheese in all its forms, and I don’t even like meat, so I am not going to go out of my way to find substitutes for it (most of which contain gluten, anyway). The just-veggies route seems to lead to rumbling, empty bellies five minutes after you finish a slice, plus I like my lasagna veggies simple. Just greens and maybe mushrooms, but none of this carrots and broccoli and zucchini randomness. But tofu-ricotta is tricky. You can crumble up tofu to the texture of ricotta, but it’s still crumbled-up tofu – bland, bland, bland. And sometimes it gets dry, because it doesn’t have all that nice dairy fat in it, and then you have a mouthful of dry bland tofu sandwiched between noodles.

To address the flavor issue I turned to vegan-cooking genius Isa Chandra Moscowitz of the Post-Punk Kitchen. Her recipe for Tofu Basil Ricotta sounded like exactly what I was looking for in the flavor department. And to deal with the lingering question of potential dryness, I called on my own vegan-cooking genius, and decided to incorporate some of my Savory Vegan Cream. I really think the addition of the cream was what ultimately pulled the whole dish together, flavor and texture-wise, plus I had not even anticipated the mouthwatering appeal of seeing a lasagna with a creamy red-and-white topping, as opposed to the usual plain vegan red sauce topping.

From my CSA box I had a huge bunch of chard, another of beet greens, and a few leaves of curly kale, as well as a bunch of fresh basil. Yum. Perfect filling. I made a simplified version of my old elaborate homemade red sauce, Farmer B whipped up some vegan cream sauce (and a little gluten-free peach and blueberry crisp for dessert), I massaged my tofu into ricotta-like perfection, we steamed the greens, and then finally I layered everything together. That’s the nervous part, for me, especially because I am never following one single recipe. Will there be enough sauce for all the layers? Did I use too many greens in the first layer and they won’t stretch all the way across on the next one? How much cream should I put – I don’t want it to get greasy! But everything came together beautifully (the lasagna gods were smiling on us today) and when it came out of the oven… well, you can see for yourself. I don’t think the picture does justice to the rich promise of herbs and tomatoes and creamy goodness that emerged from the oven. Perhaps you’ll just have to try it for yourself. It’s a lot of work, but it’s worth it!

Incredibly detailed recipe below… Continue reading

Washoku, the second principle

“Five ways, or go ho, urges cooks to prepare food by a variety of methods, simmering, broiling, and steaming being some of the most basic. By combining various methods at every meal, it is easy to limit the total amounts of sugar, salt, and oil consumed, thereby avoiding excessive calories.” — Elizabeth Andoh, Washoku: Recipes from the Japanese Home Kitchen

I began my exploration of washoku, the Japanese “harmony of food,” by paying attention to having the five colors (red, yellow, black, green, and white) represented at each meal. Another aspect of bringing a meal into harmony involves attending to how my food is prepared.

“Avoiding excess calories” is something I don’t worry about in my home cooking (and it’s not like I have to hold myself back from eating meals that are entirely deep-fried), but within a cultural cuisine (and particularly within Japanese cuisine which seems to adore fried things as special treats) it makes sense to have a kind of checks-and-balances system to ensure meals will be healthful overall. And what I’ve found a lot of joy in for myself is the fact that bringing a variety of cooking methods to the plate means a greater range of textures; soft, chewy, crisp, crunchy – my mouth perks up when it literally has so much variety to chew on.

washoku_method

This meal may have been stretching it a little on the “five colors” front (red from quinoa, yellow from carrot, black from raisin, green from scallions, white from cauliflower – a more muted palate for sure) but it was brought to completion by attention to “five ways.” The meal originally contained quinoa, steamed, cauliflower, simmered, and tofu, broiled. I wanted to bring washoku to the meal in terms of cooking methods, so I added the scallions, which are raw, and made a quick carrot-raisin pickle.  These additions naturally brought so much more color to the plate as well, which is something I’ve found in my pursuit of harmonious meals – bringing one facet into harmonious alighnment usually pulls in other facets simultaneously. Not to mention simply making the meal more interesting, more tasty, and more healthful!

The best broccoli of your life

I don’t like to post recipes without providing a picture, but I know the crappy picture I took late at night while everyone was eagerly waiting to pounce on the food is not going to convince you. I don’t know if my words are going to convince you. Maybe Adam over at The Amateur Gourmet, from whom I got this recipe (and the title of this post, because really, what else is there to be said?), can convince you. Perhaps a read-through of the recipe will sway you. Maybe the fact that we’ve made this recipe 15 or so times but I’ve never managed to make it last long enough for a real photo-shoot will carry some weight.

But really, the only thing for it is please, PLEASE just make this recipe. Make it once, and I won’t need to convince you. Because you’ll taste, and you’ll see, and you’ll know.

lemon_brocc

It’s broccoli, and it’s roasted. The recipe specifies the broccoli should be completely dry (we just get organic brocc and don’t wash it at all first) and that means you may be headed for your first ever not-gross roasted broccoli. It’s roasted with garlic, which is always a good idea, and the garlic is sliced instead of chopped, which means it doesn’t turn into burnt, bitter, angry little nuggets but instead becomes crisp and the essence of garlic. Then afterwards there is some lemon zest, and some lemon juice, and, as with everything, it’s even better if those lemons are Meyer lemons. And then there are toasted pine nuts, which are so enchanting, so enrapturing, that when you bite into the occasional lemon seed that has slipped into the dish and cunningly disguised itself as a nut you’ll just laugh and laugh because you’re so in love with this broccoli that there’s nothing in the world gonna bring you down.

Adam of The Amateur Gourmet got the recipe from The Barefoot Contessa, and I got him from him. I present it to you here veganized and featuring our choice of flavorings (Adam goes for parmesan and leaves out the basil and pine nuts, we leave out the cheese and herb but can’t imagine it without the pine nuts). We’ve found that kosher salt stays crystallized and gets caught in the broccoli crowns, making them too salty, so we use plain iodized salt or sea salt. I’ve also tidied the recipe a bit – Adam’s wonderful narrative recipe style is a little hard for folks with brain fog (like me!) to follow while trying to cook at the same time.

Writing this post I feel like I sound like Duck when he writes so lyrically and dreamily about The Best Song in the World. Because that’s what this is – the best song in the world, dancing across your tongue.

Roasted Broccoli with Pine Nuts and Lemon Zest

4 to 5 pounds of broccoli (maybe two large bunches)
5 Tbs olive oil
1 1/2 tsps regular salt or sea salt
1/2 tsp fresh ground pepper
4 garlic cloves, peeled and sliced
1 lemon
3 T pine nuts

Preheat the oven to 425.

Cut broccoli into florets (but relatively big ones.) Here’s the key that she doesn’t mention in the recipe: dry them THOROUGHLY. That is, if you wash them. I didn’t wash my broccoli; I wanted it to get crispy and brown. If you’re nervous, though, just wash and dry it obsessively.

In a small bowl, combine olive oil, salt, fresh ground pepper, and stir until the salt is at least somewhat dissolved. Slice 4 cloves of garlic. Toss the broccoli pieces and the garlic slices with the oil in a large bowl, or straight on a cookie sheet if you are brave (line it with foil or parchment if you want easy clean-up).

Roast in the oven 20 to 25 minutes, until “crisp-tender and the tips of some of the florets are browned.” Keep a good eye on it – you don’t want to burn it, just brown it a bit.

While the broccoli is roasting, toast 3 Tbs pine nuts in a dry pan over medium-high heat, shaking or stirring the pan constantly so the pine nuts get slightly browned but not burned.

When it’s done, take it out of the oven–and here’s where it gets really good–zest a lemon over the broccoli, squeeze some lemon juice over it (a half to a whole lemon, depending on how juicy your lemon is and how acidic you like your food), and add the toasted pine nuts.

Sit down with the pan, someone you love, and two forks. Expect no leftovers.