Notes on eating when it's so hot that....

Cooking feels like volunteering for Hell.

We are wilting now, and we are awash in tomatoes. Yummy, yummy tomatoes.

I am trying to make things that are good cold, and that Mikey will eat. He's not a fussy eater, mind you, but since I so often cook by the seat of my pants, I do try to recall what worked for both of us versus what did not.

So, what I made this weekend:

1. Turkey sandwiches. There is really nothing to be said about this except I used nasturtium leaves instead of lettuce and that was nice and peppery. I know, I know, not vegetarian. I guess it is fair to say that I am an omnivore who tries to eat significantly less meat than the American diet usually calls for. Meat as a flavoring agent if used, not meat as the foundation of all meals. Omni

2. Fresh Salsa, based on this recipe. I don't really know anyone who does not rave about fresh salsa, but I found it bland and cilantro-y. M liked it a lot. With tortilla chips and M's guacamole  it made an adequate cold meal, Vegan.

3. Gazpacho based on this recipe. M's verdict is that it is not really different from the salsa above, and I would agree. I liked this better because it had no cilantro and I added celery to the mix, but the spice profile is quite similar to the salsa. I will make it again, because it is cold, juicy, tomatoey goodness, but I think I might try a middle eastern or an Italian spice profile, instead. And celery imparts a nice, crunchy freshness to it, so it stays added in. Also, I did not waste my time with skinning and seeding the maters, It was fine. Piscetarian--sub soy or vegan Worcestershire sauce to make it vegan.

4. 7 dairy vegetable soup. This was the only thing I made that actually had to be cooked, but I prepared the veggies in the rice cooker on the porch, so the only stove time was that spent making the soup base.. .about 5 minutes to actually cook. This was really quite good both warm and cold, and it is mildly spiced so that .... say it with me now.... the individual eating it can spice it to their preferred flavor profile. I like Tabasco, the grandkids like bland, M likes Italian. One base dish, 87 variations as needed with no extra work on my part. Anyway, I have to write this one down, because it was made up on the fly.

• Cooked veggies. I used, in order from most to least, red potatoes, carrots, celery,  mushrooms, broccoli, peas. 
• Enough cream of cheese soup to turn the whole pot into an actual cream of veggie soup. This soup base was the seven dairy kind: Water, milk, butter, buttermilk, mozzarella cheese, extra sharp cheddar cheese, pepper jack cheese, Swiss cheese. Flour for thickening. Onion powder, garlic powder, salt, pepper.
• Mix it all together and call it soup. I have also been thinking it would work pretty nicely as a savory pie filling 

Like I said, pretty mild in the spice department. I wanted to note that I really enjoyed the texture of the veggies after they were cooked in the rice cooker versus the way they would have come out if boiled.  I just needed to put in just enough water to cover them and then let the rice cooker do its thing. Lacto-ovo vegitarian, make a soup base from water, plant-based milk, margarine, nooch, flour, spices to make it vegan.

5. Shrimp Supper Sandwiches. Another one I made on the fly and so have to write it down. It was based on the idea of tea sandwiches, but I am not going to waste my time cutting it to delicate little finger snacks. This was: On toasted bread (M gets Whole Wheat, I had Rye, both were good), thin spread of mayo with a touch of chipotle seasoning. Cover with sliced cucumbers. Mix Neufchâtel cheese with cooked and peeled and tailed salad shrimp and lots of chives. Spread this on your bread. Ta-da, sammich fer supper. Add an apple and you have a cold meal. M felt the balance of shrimp filling to cuke was out of whack, wanted either more cuke or less filling, but was quite happy to eat it as it was and asked that it get moved into the cold meal rotation.  Piscetarian. I can't think of a way to veganize it without altering it so significantly that I could not eat it, but if one wanted a similar sandwich, one might try blending tofu, nori, and chives.  A furikake seasoning might be nice, too, but DIY to be sure it is vegan.

It's been a long time

I have been much too busy to explore and discuss cookery these days. It's something of a problem, as a matter of fact, because it means that I have again devolved to eating what I can get cooked quickly and everything is dreadfully bean-brown-mush looking. This is what I have had time and forethought to do.

That should be over for a while. After this morning's horrifying lunch, I really need to consider my cooking again. Pay attention. Have time.

I can say I have learned a few things:

1. I am an indifferent food blogger.
2. I don't really like fava beans as much as I want to.
3. This place is really better as a repository of failure than any kind of world-shattering tool.
4. I'm tired of brown food but my budget is so tight that there is going to be a lot more of it. Yes. Even more.

So, let's talk briefly about popcorn.

Yeah, I know, that's a change. I can eat a whole 16 cups of it at a time. I suppose I could try for more, but I would... no, I won't lie. It's the limit of my favorite pan, that's why I stop at 16. Bad home made popcorn is better than any store-boughten, pre-popped stuff. WHole grain snack goodness that I love, just plain. No butter, minimal salt--you really can't eat that much popcorn AND put all the stuff on it. I'd rather eat more popcorn and do without butter.

Based on some internet research (using the magical and TOTALLY UNEXPECTED search phrase, "how to pop popcorn"), I learned two things:

1. The way I was taught to make popcorn is apparently the best way to do it at home and the horrifying hell of microwave popcorn left a whole generation bereft of this valuable knowledge.

2. You can put salts and spices into the oil before popping instead of after.

So, I tried point #2, as I already had #1 together. Note to self--maybe consider not heating the spices with the oil, put them in right before the popcorn. Note to self 2--this leaves the pan considerably messier--salty and singed spices oh my!

Anyway, as I had a mass of popcorn for dinner last night, I'd best not eat that tonight, There is a limit to the fiber my innards want to deal with at any given time.


So let's talk about almond milk based yogurt instead:

Almande has finally shown up on the shelves of my favorite Outpost--surprisingly, I could not find it at Whole Foods when I was down there a week or so ago--and so I bought some. I have a lovely bunch of yogurt starter sitting in my cupboard, but this product got to my house before I felt the need to experiment with making it myself, so of course, I bought some.

I have mixed feelings about it. It's a ghodsend in that it's a decent yogurt product that is soy free, and the fruit flavored yogurts are fine, better that So Delicious Coconut, my former yogurt-like treat. Unlike the coconut milk yogurts, it tastes like a standard fruit yogurt, not like coconut + blueberries.

Which, I might add, was always pretty much a "meh" combination for me.

I don't have any complaints about the textures, either, as by the time I found it in Milwaukee, a number of the issues identified by earlier customers had been corrected.

But the underlying combination of sour and almond flavor in the vanilla and the plain flavors--the large sizes I would usually buy--are ... ah... odd. Not yogurty enough.

Now, I am sure that seems silly, eh? Almond milk yogurt isn't yogurty enough? Listen, my children, ever since I found Greek Gods Honey flavored Yogurt, all plain or vanilla yogurts are no longer yogurty enough. Because that stuff is my idea of what yogurt should be. Holy man.

Of course, I can hardly ever have it, which is why it's teh sadeness that the Almande, while perfectly acceptable on it's own, isn't even close to as good. However, I'll adjust. Just as I can appreciate a veggie burger for what it is rather than despair over what it isn't (a hamburger!), I will enjoy this for what it is. After all, there were a few years in which it was milk-based, soy-based, or nothing. I usually had nothing for those years.

Injera.... of the wheat-based, North American sort.

I have a great love for sourdough; it's a fabulous flavor addition that also keeps me from having to buy bread yeast. For years, I have been working at making various kinds of pan-baked flat breads from my sourdough, and would eventually come up with a bunch of varieties that I like. Most Americans think about the sort of thing you can get at IHOP as the only sort of pancakes, but actually, there are lots of different kinds of pancakes, as evidenced by this article in Wikipedia.

Injera is sometimes described as a pancake, sometimes as a flat bread, but whatever you call it, it is a quintessential element of Ethiopian cuisine, and I love it. As I have to regularly feed and eat my sourdough, I decided that an injera (of a sort) was an excellent project.

It took me a number of years to get a reliable rate of return on my experiments. This is not a perfect injera, as it is wheat based and does use a little more leavening than just the yeast in the sourdough, but the results of just sourdough, white flour, and water are too gummy to work well. This method will, however, produce a yummy injera that will work under any stew, or wat, or, really, whatever you might usually eat with bread to soak up sauces in any style of cuisine. Actual working time is not that long, but it is a process, so you'll have to plan for it.

Injera is a process, not a recipe!

1. Feed your sourdough starter the night before. I have a well established sourdough starter that I keep in the refrigerator. Take it out, pour off the liquid that has accumulated at the top (this is the alcohol that the fermenting sourdough has produced. You can stir it back in, but it will make a very sharp flavor that many people don't like. It will also make your starter more liquidy, and will require you to adjust the amount of liquid you add later), and scrape the rest into a plastic, ceramic, or glass bowl with plenty of room. Feed the starter one cup of flour and one cup of warm (but not too hot) water. Stir it up with a non-metal utensil*. Don't worry about lumps, just get it all moist. The bacteria and yeast in the sourdough starter will take care of the lumps. Cover the bowl, set it aside, and go to bed.

The amount of activity you get in your sourdough will relate to the temperature in your kitchen. Heat directly affects how fast the sourdough will rise and fall, with warmer kitchens producing faster rises, but 7-8 hours is usually enough in most North American kitchens to get it into the useful cycle without getting it past the useful stage (where you start producing significant amounts of alcohol).

In the morning, return 1 cup of the starter to a jar and place back into the fridge. The remainder in the bowl is what you have to work with for the injera.

If you don't have an established sourdough starter, you can get one either by following these classic instructions, or by purchasing one of the commercially available starters. Or you can get one from a friend. :-)

2. Measure out your remaining sourdough. I usually end up with between 1 to 1.5 cups. From this point, you must recognize that you are working with an ingredient that will never be as predictable as purchased yeast and be prepared for some flexibility.

3. Gather the things you need: a pan for baking, a liquid, and a baking mix. I have a dedicated, round, non-stick, flat griddle/pancake pan. A round frying pan of any sort will work, but this really works best with some kind of griddle pan, preferably something that won't require you to add a "lubricating" ingredient, like butter or oil.

As for liquid: I use almond milk, as this adds more flavor, more body, and more nutrition than water. Soy milk should work, but I haven't tried it. And for the baking mix: I use Bisquick's Heart Healthy mix, as it lacks milk and egg. There is some soy lecithin in it, but as of this time, it hasn't been a problem for me. If it ever gets to the point where it is, I'll just have to mix my own baking mix. There are plenty of instructions for a homemade baking mix online, so I won't go there now.

4. Add the milk and baking mix to the sourdough in the ratio 1 part sourdough to 1.5 parts milk, 1.5 parts baking mix. Let it rest for 15-30 minutes, to allow the sourdough to begin rising.

5. Heat your pan. Just like regular pancakes, test for heat by shaking a few drops of water on the griddle; they should roll about and jump and dance. Reduce heat slightly if needed--if you are the sort, like me, who heats on high, you'll need to cut that back when actually cooking the pancake. Medium to high-medium should do you for the baking of the injera. When the pan is heated, pour a small amount of the batter on to the hot pan and cook (as described below, beginning with #6).

This is where you must remind yourself that you are working with what is an ever-changing ingredient. What will work perfectly on day 1 will not work perfectly on day 2. The heat in your kitchen, the heat in your pan, the time you let the sourdough rise over night, the time you let the mix rise, et cetera, are a delicate balancing act.

When you finish cooking that test injera, eat it as soon as it is cool enough to eat. You are looking for it to be too thick or too gummy. "Gummy" can't really be described well, but if you ever ate a gumdrop, you know it. This method of making injera should produce, when right off the griddle, a very thin and flexible flat bread with a slightly gummy texture, but that texture should be something that you would eat even if a little gummy--you know, that "It's not perfect, but it's tasty and I can manage" sort of moment. If it's too thick--which is usually evident in the pour--add a little more liquid. If it's too gummy, add a little more baking mix and a little more liquid, and set aside another 10 minutes or so. Keep making little text injera until you are either at the point where you are satisfied with the texture, or you have invested as much of the ingredients as you are willing to invest and are accepting of the fact that this will not be a perfect batch (don't worry, though, you can still eat them, more on that later). Remember, though, the more baking mix and almond milk you add, the less intense the sourdough flavor will be.

6. Pour enough batter on the griddle to make a single, thin (about 1/8 inch) injera. Usually, your batter will land in the center and you will swirl it around to make a thin, even layer. Watch for the injera to start cooking and bubbling even as you swirl it around the pan; that's a good sign. Your pan is hot without being too hot and your batter is probably of a good consistency.



7. Let the miricle of heat, steam, and leavening do its magic. You will watch the injera carefully--small bubbles will appear and pop all over the surface. Let it all cook merrily until the top of the injera is dry. You'll recognize it. The above picture is of a dry injera. Spots that were still wet, still needing to cook, would appear brighter. It doesn't actually take very long to get to this stage.



This is a closeup of the surface, with the contrast slightly enhanced, to show you what the surface will look like. The tiny bubbles, like this, are perfect. Larger bubbles are not a problem, but the more little bubbles you have the spongier the texture will be at the end. If you have larger bubbles, try stirring down the batter to reduce the amount of air in the mixture (remember, the yeast is not the only leavening agent at work here, so it's not a tragedy if you stir it down a little). If that doesn't work, make the batter a little thinner with a little more liquid.

8. Flip the injera. Traditional injera is finished at this point, but this recipe is better with a little heat applied to both sides.



You can see the path the batter took when I swirled it in the pan along the pattern in the injera. I usually leave it flipped just long enough to let steam start penetrating this side for 5-10 seconds. Not long, just long enough to let steam start working merrily. (Note that this is the point at which you eat your test injeras, otherwise, proceed)

9. Flip the injera again and move it to a covered dish. I usually place it on a ceramic plate, fold it in half (so that the brown side is out)and cover the plate with a glass frying pan lid. Why? Because you are going to let the residual heat and steam finish cooking the injera--that's what will move the texture from slightly gummy to spongy.



Stack the cooked injera into the covered dish as you cook them. When the last one is done, set them aside and let them completely cook to room temperature. You might want to remove the lid from the dish and shake off the condensation once while it's cooling, but if you forget, it's usually no big deal. Cook up a stew and have a delish dinner.


If your Injera isn't perfect

So you let steam get you to the end and you can't stop yourself from a nibble and decide that, well, this batch came out differently than you hoped. All is not lost, so don't put that stack of food that you spent money and time to make into the garbage yet.

First, cook up the stew you were going to make and try it anyway. Very often, what doesn't work plain will be just fine once it absorbs the sauces from the stew. You can also reheat this on the griddle, and that extra bit of heat will sometimes help.

If that doesn't fix it (and it's rare for me that thiese simple steps won't rescue an imperfect batch) then you can...

• toast them in the oven and eat with sugar, butter, jam, syrup, et cetera.
  
• Slice into strips and marinate with a sauce for a very soft noodle.
  
• cut up and fry with za'atar and olive oil, or some other favorite thing, like pesto or garlic or whatever.

Only my first batches, before I stopped stirring the two-week old hootch back into the sourdough or significantly under used baking mix, were ever so awful that I couldn't finish eating what I'd made. I find this to be usable all the time, these days.

Let me know how it goes!


Note:
Sourdough should not be mixed with or rested in metal utensils--the actions of the yeast and bacteria symbosis can pick up flavors from the metal.

Product Review: So Delicious Coconut Yogurt and Milk/Beverage

I miss yogurt so much. There are plenty of soy-based substitute products, and rice based substitute products, but, of course, what I have been looking for is an almond based substitute. And, when I was dragging myself around Outpost the other day, not only did I find the Coconut Bliss, I also found this:


This product is not as new to the market as I thought, but it's certainly new to me. And it was good. I tried several flavors, the sharp, berry-based flavors I tend to prefer. The texture was smooth, thick, and the sweet of it is acceptable, although maybe a little more than I'd like.

However, its cost makes it something that I do not expect to eat regularly. That is a problem. Given that it's price puts it in the "treat" range, and regular yougurt is cheaper, I'm not sure I am going to be buying this often.


Also tried, by this same company: So Delicious Coconut Milk. It's not bad, but it was thin, and had a sharp taste to it; I don't see myself switching to this from almond milk. I didn't care for it on my cereal and it didn't cook as well as almond milk in any form--cold case, UHT packaged--or easily, locally available brands--Blue Diamond, Silk. It also is not as lovely as Living Harvest's Hemp Milk, which is only occasionally locally available. It was, however, much better than any rice milk I have tried. It is also far more reasonably priced than the coconut yogurt, so price was not an issue here.

FWIW, my preference is for Blue Diamond Almond Milk. You may have noticed. The coconut beverage will not be replacing, or even supplementing, it. However, if my only choices are the So Delicious or Rice Dream, it's So Delicious for the win.

I'm going to have to get to work on a recipe for almond based yogurt. Just as other bright people came up with a coconut milk creamy desert, surely someone else out there has already tried.

Geeze Gravies and Grocers, part 1: Grocery stores.

Milwaukee is not a small place. I have occasionally forgotten that, because I grew up in Chicago, which, in all its immensity, easily dwarfs large numbers of the world's cities. I was reminded of the fact that Milwaukee is not all that small when I was hunting for a particular product.

There isn't much cookery going on right now, as mentioned in last post, but that has got to change. I have to eat, and when I saw my food bill this month, I realized that I can't keep this restaurant eating thing up. Sure, I have no time to cook, and yes, it's given me a reason to try a number of restaurants I've been meaning to try, but the plain fact is that I am a social servant in this culture, and so I never have the luxury of spending all the money I might feel like spending.

For a very long time, I have been trying to make a vegan, no-soy-cheese substitute sauce that will stand in for cheese in pre-1601 recipes. The standard vegan substitute in this situation is nutritional yeast, and, while the nootch certainly does impart a flavor that works and is distantly like Parmesan cheese, my blackened Laurel heart will not rest until I can come up with a sauce that will be cheese tasting and comprised of verifiable pre-1601 ingredients. You can make an argument for nootch based on the idea that yeast was certainly used for cookery in period and that it is occasionally written about in a way that you can pretend implies adding it strictly for flavor, but the plain fact, as far as I can tell, is that nootch as a specifically produced food is pretty recent on the "inventions in cookery" timeline.

This is not true of fermented tofu. Somewhere out in the world there are a bazzillion cooks who, when presented with the same challenge, might have said "Oh, yeah, I know just what to do!" and reached for their jar of doufu-ru, but I had to learn it existed. Tofu is not something I ever loved even when I was eating whatever soy jumped on to my plate, so the chances of me stumbling on this stuff became tiny, tiny, tiny the moment I realized I was going to have to cut unfermented soy out of my diet. 99.99% of the tofu on the American market is your garden variety bean curd that, as useful as it is to the general vegan/non-ovolacto piscetarian, is something that anyone with thyroid issues is not going to be able to touch.

Fermented tofu, according to this article, appears in the written record in China in 1578 CE. And so, having stumbled across the existence of the product thanks to surfing teh internetz, I stumbled around the Milwaukee area trying to find it.

And that brings me round to the point.

I suspected I could find the product in one of the many Asian markets in the area. What I wanted to know was if I could find it elsewhere--the Asian markets most likely to have a wide selection of products tend to be more on the north end of the metro area, and thus, a bit out of my way.

In Outpost? Nope. If it's not at Outpost, then there is little point in trying the more standard grocers in the area, although I did give my favorite Sentry a brief run through, just in case. Nope.

However, there is a grocer in the Milwaukee area, a place of legendary status in this metro area, a place that is considered so upscale that a number of my former acquaintances will only shop there because they imagine it adds to their "high-class" cache: Sendiks. I've only shopped there a few times, never particularly impressed either positively or negatively.

I have an impression now, though.

Sendik's sucks.

It sucks like a suck ass sucking thing of suckiness.

I swear to dog, it has got to be by the good will and generosity of the people of Milwaukee that this local chain continues to thrive--kind of like the same way people kept buying Van Heusen shirts because they were "American made" long after it had become very clear that Van Heusen had shipped its manufacturing overseas. Only a willingness to believe the bluff could explain why anyone thinks this is a chain full of unusual and finer foodstuffs for the tony crowd. That may have been true a long time ago, but it is not true now. Is there a place for Sendiks in the Milwaukee market? Sure. If they are offering a selection of things Joellen Average will never otherwise try at a price that isn't too much for her family to bear, great: I'm all for wider experiences for everyone. And if she gets her little ego boosted, well, as long as she doesn't cross my path, it's all good. But is it the establishment it's reputed to be?

Oh, hell, no. I saw nothing there that I could not find elsewhere--with one exception: the despair-inducing deli section.

Well, let's be fair--I'm not going to like anything with mango in it. I'm especially not going to like it if the "crab" turns out to be that shitty fake crab crap with the allergy-provoking egg ingredients in it. So if your special crab salad has eggs and mangoes in it, I'm going to get sick eating it.

Which I did.

If that was all, I'd shut up. But the cabbage salad sucked. The sushi--not something you'd even begin to expect would be fabulous in a grocery story--was just sad, and that was just a vegetable roll. What the hell would it have been like if there was seafood in it? I have long understood that too much wasabi ruins the balance of delicate flavors an amuse-bouche of sushi can provide, but for the first time ever, I was extraordinarily grateful for the wasabi--it changed the awful vegetable roll into a nice crispy crunchy base useful for transporting the fabulous flavor of horseradish into my mouth.

Gak. Sendik's, I am so done with you.

After that trip, I abandoned the immediate vicinity search and went to a north side Asian grocer. Milwaukee's near north side is not the nicer area, but it's not bad. A lot of rural Wisconsinites find it terrifying, and people have left my place of employment after one visit to a home on the north side, too nervous to look past their lack of familiarity with the urban experience and notice that "lack of expensive houses" does not equate with "radically terrifying and vastly dangerous area of horrific poverty."

I found the above jars at Rhino Foods. I popped it open, and, yay! It does taste remarkably like bleu cheese. Yay.


I'll soon be popping some into a non-cheese sauce, hereafter described as a geeze gravy, to determine how it will work as a flavoring agent in a non-dairy béchamel--essentially, what all vegan "cheese" sauces turn out to be. Yes, every vegan food writer talks like he or she has just invented the Best. Vegan. Cheese. Sauce. Evah. whenever they bust out their recipes (hence my thinking of them as "geeze" gravies), but all this tells me is that American cooks really lack in some basic skills. I am eternally grateful to my Junior High School Home Ec teacher for teaching me to make a white sauce. Little did I know at 12 years old that I was being given a key to a cookery kingdom.

Tomato Win

I don't really have time to do a detailed write up of this dish, but I need to at least jot down some notes, that it may be enjoyed again.

This is what happened to the leftover seiten, the leftover brown rice from the veggie burgers, 4 huge organic heirloom tomatoes, 2 large carrots, 4 cloves of organic garlic, pan drippings from the seitan's cooking broth, olive oil, a heaping spoonful of Patak's ginger garlic, and plenty of water.

Michael said, "That was a great lunch you made, honey, I'd eat that anytime."

Which would be why I am here jotting down notes instead of just hoping that the picture will remind me of what I did when I made something--when I started this piscetarian adventure, I'd take a picture of something that I felt turned out well, certain that I'd remember what I did.

I look at those pictures now, more than a year later, and ... yeah ... no clue.

I'm already kind of not certain about the delicious clam-leek-tato stew I made the other day.

So to make sure that a dish Miguel-san specifically hinted he'd want again actually shows up on the table again, here's the fast action steps:

Take the pan out of the refrigerator (you know, I have this weird habit of putting the pan with the dripping right in the fridge--it's a waste to wash out that flavor if you can use it the next day. I know it sounds weird, but if the pan is covered and your fridge is working properly, it's not a problem) and let it start coming to room temperature. Cut up the carrots and garlic, and let them begin to come to room temperature--this reallt does not take long. Now, put the carrots, garlic, and a couple of cups of water into the pot. Cook the carrots to the al dente stage. Now, chop up the tomatoes and add them to the pot with a generous sploosh of olive oil and several sprigs of fresh thyme. Add as much water as is needed to cover the tomatoes and let cook until you can mash the veggies to bits. Mix in approximately 2 t to 1 T ginger/garlic paste. Add approximately 2 cups of cooked brown rice and approximately 2 cups of sliced, onion-soup-braised seitan. Add another generous sploosh, this time a sploosh of red wine. Again, add water as needed and then allow to reduce to the thickness of a thick jambalaya. Because one is using leftovers here, it is always best to make sure it cooks at a boil for at least 10 min after the final ingredient is added.

I have some for my lunch tomorrow. MMmmmMMMMmmmmm. There was enough salt in the drippings and seitan from the onion soup. If you don't have the drippings, substitute onion granules and salt & pepper to taste, or a spoonful of onion soup base. Marmite/Vegimite/Naggi sauce might also work, as would miso if you can have soy.

Shiney new practice piscetarian cookery blog!!!

Okay, I confess, I'm not going to leave this blog in this location forever and ever, Amen. I have a New Shiny Site under construction, but I am just too excited by this idea to wait until the New Shiny Site is live, and doing this here will let me concentrate on behind the scenes things there. This is a beginner blog, a baby steps blog, a place to move all my cookery. I haven't even figured out what I want everything to be called--I've gone through 15 different names. But obviously I like Pretty Kettle a lot, as that's what is up top.

But I can start with firming up a mission and pulling the various recipes into one organized pile.

I eat a very specific style of diet, one which has various names and has been around for centuries. I am a Piscetarian. I eat plants and no meat but fish, 99% of the time. I can't say I am always a strict piscetarian, but I do my best, and the largest bulk of my meals are actually vegan friendly. I focus on locally available foods before long-distance, and organic over factory farmed.

This blog is intended to fill a space. You'd think that with all the fabulous vegan blogs out there, I would be well served and would not need to add another voice for cooking an alternate dietary style from scratch to the internet. However, when I built this page, it became very apparent that there was a place for one more specialty cook.

My emphasis is on modern and medieval cookery. There will be things here to feed piscetarian, true. That's my main focus. So also will there be things to feed vegans. I hope to be particularly helpful to vegans who can't eat soy--I can't either, not in any real way. This would be why so many vegan blogs are of minimal help to me--there is a huge emphasis on soy replacement foods. However, a well-developed piscetarian diet is going to focus on plant foods for most meals. It makes sense to be able to cook as a vegan cooks. Too, I'd like to be of service to those people who are transitioning. If you are going to go all the way, the piscetarian/pescetarian/pesco-vegetarian dietary style is a nice way to ease into it.

However, I'll also be focusing on the cookery of the old world, before the new world foods became prevalent. I love history, and I love redacting recipes. I also enjoy the challenge of cooking something that would be recognizable to people who lived in the era, and modifying that cookery so that it can be eaten by people with alternative dietary styles.

Well, that's a rough draft, but all mission statements start with just such a beginning. And now, there is cooking to be done and a product to be reviewed. So I'll go eat it and tell you what I think. :-)