Chickpea Salad Sandwiches and a Moroccan Spiced Sauce

Call it an exercise in frugality.

Or call it MultiSupper.

Or call it Chickpea Salad, my dudez.

Over the past few years, I have cooked up some very plain thing to serve as a meal centerpiece for myself, so I don't have to come home from work and cook from scratch every night, but so I am also not committed to eating potato soup for the rest of the week. This Sunday's "Very Plain Thing" was a mess of chickpeas, carrots, salad potatoes, and sauteed mushrooms. When I was finished cooking it all, I had about 2.5 quart jars of the mix, plus about 2, maybe 2.5 cups of cooking liquid.

So the first supper was comprised of the chickpea-veggie mix, in a sauce, and over basmati rice. I did not get a picture of it, alas, because we just ate it too quickly. Michael took one bite and said, "Did you write this down?"

Always a sure sign of a winner.

Not the Very Plain Thing, mind you. The sauce. 

Thus was born the need for a name. See, sometimes things Mike likes and wants to be sure I write down are things that may never happen again, because lame ass reasons. However, this one he will ask for again, because he has been discussing how he applied the leftovers of this dish to other dishes and how those leftovers improved whatever the heck it was he was adding them to.

 Dried chickpeas cooked in salted water, sauteed mushrooms, rice, and steamed tiny potatoes and carrot chunks are not things I am going to forget how to make any time soon. So the sauce is the imperative part, and the part that must be written down.

Moroccan Spiced Sauce

To leftover cooking liquid, add chicken base (I usually use the better than bullion type), milk, nootch, a little olive oil, and plain yogurt. Cook this smooth, then add at least a teaspoon of Moroccan Memories spice blend, more if you like (we like more). Let this simmer. When the flavors have blended, thicken with flour. If needed, add more spice blend (since thickeners often reduce the flavor of the sauce) and let it simmer a bit longer, stirring all the while. This sauce really benefits from a little time for the flavors to really cook together.

I was making it up as I went along, cooking to taste, so I can't give precise amounts. It was cooking liquid from cooking dried garbanzo beans, carrots, and potatoes, cooked in my cast iron skillet, the lovely skillet that had sauteed the mushrooms and so had a little ghost of flavor from that, too. I used the nootch to give it a little more umami, but you really have to be careful with the nootch, it initially overpowered the veggie water and chicken stock blend. 

Because I started with about 2.5 cups of cooking liquid, I ended up with about 3.5 cups of sauce. I poured them over 1.5 quarts of the chickpea-veggie mix, so there was plenty of sauce for the rice, too.

I had intended to make veggie burgers with the remaining quart of garbanzo-veggie blend, but I was just too tired to go to that effort.   So I made a chickpea salad sandwich.

A Chickpea Salad
Mash about 1.5 cups of cooked chickpea-veggie mix. Add 2-3 spoonfuls of your preferred type of mayo-type spread. Mix. Add 1-3 splashes of liquid smoke (I used the hickory liquid smoke). Mix. Add 1/4 teaspoon (or more to taste) of Turkish Delight. Even eaten right away, it's nice. A little time for the flavors to meld merely makes a different kind of tasty. 

I ate it on rye bread, which was actually a little too strong for the dressing, so I felt I had to make another small batch for my lunch tomorrow, so's I can test it out as a sandwich on some cracked wheat bread. Oh, darn, gotta eat this again. Just, darn.

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.

A Falafelish to Remember

MMMMmmmm... Falafelish

So, I cooked up a mess of dried chickpeas. MMMM, chickpeas. I've gotten lazy about soaking them: just throw them in a slow cooker and add water and let 'em cook all night, and there you have it, beans. I had planned to make hummus and a stew or soup, but it turns out that I had a little more than I expected when all was said and done. I asked Michael whether he wanted chick pea burgers or a soup, and his reply was "falafel."

Well, now, that wasn't a choice, in large part because I do not know how to make it.

But, thanks to the magic of the internet, I managed something falafel-ish. Falafelish.

It's based on a combination of these two recipes on epicurios.com. I'm writing my process down not because I feel I improved on either recipe, but because both recipes state that you can used canned--and thus implying cooked--chickpeas.

Yeah. You can't.

Furthermore, I am one of those folks who hate cilantro, so substitutions were required.

Here we are:

• 1 or more cups cooked chickpeas. I measured out 4 quarter cups of my cooked chickpeas, but it seemed rather like more than a cup.
• 1 small onion, diced (about 1/2 cup)
• 2 cloves garlic, peeled and smashed
• 2 tablespoons fresh parsley, finely chopped
• 1 tablespoon carrot greens, chopped
• 1 teaspoon ground cumin
• 1 teaspoon ground coriander
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 teaspoon dried red pepper flakes (Of course I used Arwen's Dynamite for the Soul)
• 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
• 4 tablespoons of chick pea flour
• enough plain breadcrumbs to be able to form patties with the whole mess above
• About 6 cups vegetable oil for frying

Throw everything but the breadcrumbs into a blender or a food processor. Whirl that shit to pieces--it's going to be too wet to stop from forming a mash, but don't turn it into baby food. Let the chickpea mash rest in the fridge for about an hour.

When the mash has finished resting, add breadcrumbs. You are going to have to add them by feel, because there is no telling how wet a particular mash is going to be. You have added  enough breadcrumbs when you can roll the mixture into a ball (about the size of a golfball, per the other recipes, but I think mine were a bit smaller) and then flatten it to a patty and still be able to get it off your hands intact.

Heat the oil in a heavy frying pan. Add the patties, cook 'em, and drain 'em.

They were oddly pleasing, with a nice soft inside and a crispy outside, and Michael keeps eating them off the plate, suggesting that I may have to make something else for dinner tonight. Because they will be gone.

Notes regarding Michael and Kraut

Okay, one of the most difficult things to get Michael to eat is any kind of sauerkraut. On the other hand, I make a lot of collard kraut. I love collard kraut, but Michael, not so much. Not this year, but next year, there will be all kinds of Kraut — kale Kraut, turnip Kraut, cabbage Kraut, mixed Brassica Kraut — and I have to figure out ways to get Michael to eat it.

This is what I made tonight, and Michael ate it happily.

Open and drain a jar of Kraut. Add the drained Kraut to a pan containing a pound of fresh Polish sausage and water enough to boil it all. Cook this until the Polish sausage is properly parboiled. Remove the sausages and finish preparing them as you desire; tonight, I cut them in half longwise and lightly fried said to give them crispy outsides. Chop a whole onion, sauté it in a combination of butter and olive oil. Again, drain the Kraut, and add it to the sautéed onions. Continue sautéing until the mixture is lightly coated with olive oil and butter in the onions tender. Spice it in a way that will be compatible with the Polish sausage seasoning; I used pepper and a balti spice blend. Since the Kraut will still be slightly salty even after this cooking, don't add salt. If the individuals eating this feel it needs more salt best to let them add their own.

Michael enjoyed this quite a lot he chopped up his sausage into little bits mixed it all into the Kraut and onion side dish and when I asked him if I should remember how I did this, he said yes.

Obviously he said yes. Otherwise I wouldn't be writing this, right?

Summer stuff in my Tsardust Fried Rice.

I made a variation on the Tsardust theme, and Michael mentioned it especially tonight. "Did you write that down?" he asked, and so here I am.

Olive oil to saute a poblano pepper, chopped. When the pepper is al dente, toss in some chopped fresh cabbage, a 1/2 cup of drained collard kraut, and a cup of cooked dandelion greens. When heated through, add 2 cups of cooked rice (I had leftover jasmine rice, this time) and a quarter to a half cup of whole raw almonds. Saute this mixture a bit. Throw in a tablespoon of Magi seasoning, a tablespoon of nutritional yeast, and a heaping teaspoon of Tsardust Memories.

I was particularly pleased that he liked this, because it contains dandelion greens and collard kraut. This batch of collard kraut is a little too salty-fermenty for most people straight out of the jar, but I have found that when drained and tossed into a dish, no one realizes that it's a home ferment. Awesome.

I used the recipe here to make the kraut, sort of. What actually happened is that I used leftover brine from making watermelon pickles and a tablespoon of sugar, so this is probably why it is a little salty. The brine is way more than the teaspoon of salt the original recipe calls for.

For my reference, in case the original site ever goes away, here is the original recipe, as referenced above:

Collards, desired amount. Cut real fine, pack in quart jars, add 1 tsp. salt, 1 tsp. sugar in each jar. Pour boiling water in each jar. Run knife on each side in jar to get the air bubbles out. Make sure the jar is full of water; seal and it should be ready in 2 weeks.

I let it ferment until the collard kraut settled down to clear again (while fermenting, the liquid gets cloudy) and then put it in the fridge to stop the ferment.

Gawrsh, it makes me happy to eat my yard on such a snowy day.

Sea Monster Stew

Never mind the crappy picture that looks more like Nessie in a loch of tomato sauce, it was a tasty mctasty dish and Michael asked me to write the recipe down so he could have it again. Unfortunately, this was the only picture I got.

Stuffed peppers that Michael liked.

Based on the recipe here.

3 large green bell peppers
1 lb ground turkey
2-3 large, fresh tomatoes
salt, pepper, smoked paprika to taste.
water as needed
1/4 cup rhubarb chutney
1-2 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce
1/2 to 2 cups cooked rice (more rice if you are filling more peppers)
Shredded cheese (colby, cheddar)
2-3 cups spaghetti sauce.

cut the tops off the green peppers and clean out seeds, set aside.

Brown the turkey in a sauce pan. Chop the tomatoes. toss tomatoes, spices, water in with the turkey and boil down until tomatoes are cooked and water mostly gone. Add chutney, Worcestershire sauce. mix, adjust any spices if needed. Add rice. Stuff the peppers and place in baking dish. Fill tops with shredded cheese. Thin spaghetti sauce to gravy consistency and pour over peppers and in pan. Bake at 375 until peppers are soft--we prefer at "al dente."


For myself, I'd sub quorn or lentils. Maybe tempeh.

Rhubarb Chutney

What the hell is this, you might ask?

I'll tell you what it is, it's goddam deliciousness in a jar, that's what it is.

I've harvested the rhubarb and have been wanting to try a recipe for "rhubarb catsup" for some time. Since I have more than enough on hand to make several different things, I tried it. The original is here. My changes are below.

4 cups diced fresh rhubarb
1 large onions, chopped
1 cup white vinegar
3/4 cup packed brown sugar
3/4 cup sugar
1 (28 ounce) can crushed tomatoes, undrained
2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon Coleman's ground mustard
1/8 teaspoon ground allspice
1/4 teaspoon ground coriander
1/4 teaspoon ground cardamon
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
1/4 teaspoon Auntie Arwen's Dynamite for the Soul hot pepper flakes
1 bay leaf, crumbled as finely as possible.

Throw it all in a crock pot. Let it simmer until the rhubarb has disintegrated and the liquid has cooked off to a point just a bit thinner than you like your chutney. This will thicken as it cools. This quantity makes about 5 cups, depending on how much you boil off.

I let mine cook overnight.

It's spicy and bar-be-cue-y. I told Michael it was chutney because I was not sure he would try it if I called it "catsup." Besides, It's chunky. I can't be bothered with mashing the chunks away. Michael loved it.

I told him what it was called. Michael tasted it again and said, "Ketchup? No way, this is a chutney, you called it right, sweetie."

Ah, what a lovely al freco dining experience.

Chitown Taters Soup

Back from vacation and slowly moving into the cooking habit.

This was an accident that made Michael say, "What is this? This is delicious!"

I thought I'd better write it down.

Base:

leftover noodle broth--Michael had prepared himself some egg noddles, and buttered and salted the cooking water--totaled about 6-8 cups. There appeared to be about two tablespoons of butter in the water. It leaves a pleasant flavor and so I added the following:

2 large carrots, sliced
4 large potatoes, chunked, skin on

Bring to a boil, and then simmer until vegetables are almost done. Add

2 onions, peeled and chunked

Simmer until onions are soft. Add

1 cup fat free sour cream or sour cream substitute
1 tablespoon of Penzey's Chicago Steakhouse blend.

Blend in. Now, mix

1-2 tablespoons cornstarch
1/4 cup water

until lump free in a separate bowl, and stir in to simmering soup to thicken. Taste. You may need to add a little more of the Steakhouse blend, and a little more salt at this point--adjust according to your taste.

This produces a soup that has a touch of smokiness and a touch of pepper. Michael ate 3 bowls. I ended up adding about .5 tablespoon of the Steakhouse seasoning and about .5 t of salt after the cornstarch; the addition of the cornstarch does reduce the strength of the spices, and as I love spicy food, I added more of the blend and only a touch more salt, as I tend to not like things with much more than a hint of salt.

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.

Roasted Cauliflower. And Leftovers.

Yah, I eat a lot of earth-toned food. Yes, yes I do. And I never think about a photo until its impossible to get a good one.

Be that as it may, this piece of a picture features a couple of things I do all the time (1. make something via the fried rice engine, this time, using carrots, onions, and mushrooms and 2. make lentils) and one new thing. It's the new thing I want to mention.

I tried roasted cauliflower. It was wonderful. I did look over multiple recipes, as there are tons of them, and decided that this one was the starter recipe for me.

Except I subbed nootch for Parmesan cheese. And I left off the vinegar. It's all good and stuff, but I was just wanting the veggie and the spices. My modification:

* 8 cups 1-inch-thick slices cauliflower florets
* 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
* 1 tablespoon fresh marjoram
* 1/4 teaspoon salt
* Freshly ground pepper to taste
* 1 t nutritional yeast
* 1 t garlic


Preparation

1. Preheat oven to 450°F.
2. Toss cauliflower, oil, spices in a preheated, great big, cast iron frying pan. [Don't burn yourself!] Spread on a across pan and roast until starting to soften and brown on the bottom, check and stir every 15 minutes until done.

Yum. This was certainly Cauliflower FTW! and I expect the regular recipe is quite nice, too, but I wasn't interested in missing the flavor of the spices by tossing with my exceedingly expensive and super flavorful 18-yr-old Balsamic.

Beer and Tsardust

or, The Fried Rice Engine.


... what was I wanting to share about beer? I forgot. Other than I collected a multiple number of beer based recipes that I want to try, of course.

Anyway, I took a run out to Penzey's. Very soon I'll be off to Pennsic, and so I don't want to invest in too much as far as cooking spices go (saving my money for Auntie Arwen), but I did feel the need for smoked paprika, based on one of the beer recipes I've got hanging around. While there, I found a spice blend with the enchanting name of Tsardust memories. The ingredient list read like a typical period receipt (salt, garlic, cinnamon, pepper, nutmeg, marjoram--so, salt, garlic, marjoram, and poudre forte, all found in medieval European cooking) and so I had to bring a jar of it home with me.



This is what I did with it, that first try, and I quite enjoyed it. I do tend to throw vegetables into leftover rice for a quick meal--really, really often, as it happens. Like any bit of cooking that's really more a process than a measured out recipe, it's a little different every time, and, frequently, once the brassica family gets involved, so does some sort of oriental sauce--schezuan, usually, just a little something drizzled over the stir fry.

The usual sauce mix for it involves:

1 T nutritional yeast
1 T Maggi seasoning (or soy or worchestershire--vegan or regular)*
1-3 T olive oil

Into this goes an onion (and thence, sauteed), the rice, and whatever vegetables I decide will complete my meal today. Today, I tossed in a couple teaspoons of the Tsardust memories. It was nice! Nice enough for me to write it down to make sure I try it again.... and can find what I did when I am ready to try.

Many a tasty dish is lost to me because I forgot to write it down.

Roasted Eggplant

Briefly, a note about a portion of a recipe that worked well:

I ran across several recipes I would like to try on EatingWell.com, and I decided to try this one: Spiced Eggplant-Lentil Salad. Unfortunately, it depends largely on a fruit that I pretty much hate: mango. Still, it seemed easy enough to just leave the mangos off and go from there.

Unfortunately, the lentils got cooked way past the "individual lentils" stage, and so that got carried on into the usual lentil stew I make myself. Good thing I like them that way!

What I did get to try was the roasted eggplant bit:

# 4 tablespoons peanut oil or olive oil, divided
# 2 teaspoons chili powder
# 2 teaspoons curry powder
# 2 medium eggplants (3/4 pound each), trimmed and cut into 1-inch cubes

# Preheat oven to 500°F.
# Combine 1 tablespoon oil with 2 teaspoons each chili powder and curry powder in a large bowl. Add eggplant and toss well. Spread the eggplant on a large, rimmed baking sheet. Roast, stirring once halfway through, until tender, about 15 minutes.

Unfortunately, my oven takes far longer than 15 minutes to roast eggplant cubes to what I consider done, so in future, I'm going to have to remember to throw some potatoes and other vegetables in there, as well. It's a shame to waste all that fuel on a couple of eggplants.

The eggplants were very good, though, and I think I would like this even better if I subbed out the spices listed here and subbed in some of my many, many spice blends.

ETA, much time later: I tried the above with Auntie Arwen's "Sheik of the Desert Ras el Hanout" blend instead of the listed spices. OMG. So good. Must remember that.

Product Review: Coconut Bliss

I totally frakkin' love ice cream and frozen custard. I have not tried the soy frozen deserts because, well, they're unfermented soy, and one single go round with rice-based cheese was enough to make me scream yuck and swear off rice-based "dairy" forever and ever amen. There are some frozen deserts that I have once in a while--fruit juice bars, some brands of gelato--but nothing quite takes the place of something creamy.

After a while, it seemed to me that making my own with a pudding recipe and coconut milk would be a quick fix. And then I found this recipe, proving yet again that great ideas never occur in a vacuum, and even better, she figured out the steps, saving me the trouble of doing so myself.

Well, today I took a quick trip to my favorite local grocery, my well beloved Outpost Coop. I just wanted a bundle of vegetables for supper, but I was so hungry! Never a good idea to shop when hungry. But I'm not sorry I wandered around, because, first, I didn't spend st00pid amounts of money, and second, I found this:



Pricey, of course. But less expensive than the Turtle Mountain version. And it has a reference to the moon! And neato graphics! Whee, such decision making! I bought the Chocolate Hazelnut flavor, figuring that if the coconut flavor was noticeable, it would work well. And I totally love chocolate with hazelnuts.

And I have to say, it's nice. It doesn't have the same sort of body that ice cream has, but it is creamy and delicious. And yes, my first impression was that of chocolate coconut with some crunchy nuts. The texture is pretty light, but there is plenty of coconut fat in it, and that's completely what makes it a win as a frozen, creamy dessert. I'd like to try a few other flavors, too. At some point, I'll want to make my own, but this will be quite nice for my replacement frozen dairy craving until that point in time. Might even try it to flavor coffee. That might be a win, too. Yay, win!

Some simple cookery notes, because it's only simple cookery going on right now.

I've been hurt since late December or so, and it waxes and wanes in terms of the injury's ability to interfere with what I am doing, and right now, it's a great big wax--I'm hobbled right now, hardly moving. Some notes based on things I've started but have not been able to follow on through as much as I have wanted.

Lima Bean Spread: I love lima beans, frozen, but have noticed that the big lima beans that come dried are a different beast all together. I don't really like them as entities that one can cook up for a larger dish, like a lima bean stew or something. What I have noticed: they cook from dried to mush pretty quickly, and so with the addition of just enough flavoring to mask the faint hint of lima bean, you can make a pretty decent protein spread for a sandwich. It's not as good as hummus, of course, but then, chick peas have a nice flavor that works with vegetables and breads and whatever else. The Lima Bean spread, however, isn't lima bean-ish enough to be really distinctly delish for lima bean lovers, but sufficiently lima-beanish to make it less than invisible, like a sandwich spread based on white beans. My fist solution: a couple shakes of liquid smoke, which worked very nicely. I will be playing with that, because it was nice just served on flat-breads, but it needs a little more to really make it something I am going to be handing around as a recipe. Dried lima beans cooked to mush and a little smoke flavor certainly produces an acceptable spread, but my suspicion is that it can be something more without needing to go quite as complex as hummus-from-dried-chick-peas.


Garlicking Up Sauces: In this old Ars Gratia Artis post, I mentioned my tendency to buy expensive Italian sauces (because it is the expensive ones that have sugar instead of corn syrup, olive or canola oil instead of soy bean oil) and then, after a few bites, garlic it up to the point that any crap sauce would do. Well, I'm running a little low on fundage right now, so I thought, well, maybe I'd try me a can of Hunts spaghetti sauce. At 89¢, it seemed like it might be worth trying despite some of the low quality ingredients--I shouldn't have the soy, true, but if I could get a decent taste out of it, it might not be too bad to use once in a while to make my moola stretch, and I have a very large amount of fresh garlic to use up.

Yeah. It was a waste of good garlic cloves. I pulled out the powder immediately, I could not get that stuff good with anything less than plenty of powder and heaping spoonfuls of giardiana. It's too sweet. Whether one calls that as a WIN or a FAIL kind of depends--if I just need a reasonable sauce to overwhelm with powerful flavors, then... well, it works, but I may as well just use some tomato paste and avoid the soy and the corn syrup.

I dunno. I read the ingredient lists on so many foods, and I'm thinking to myself that it's not really a wonder that so may people are not healthy. It's probable that we will all use *some* processed foods; it's hard to completely avoid it *all* and we'll just have to chant the mantra "everything in moderation." However, it's really easy to go to a grocery story and buy food enough for a month and come out with meals that are all technically appropriate for health according to the "food pyramid" and still have nothing but good-tasting death in your cupboard--which sort of rolls me along to the next small bit.

Real Pancakes from Scratch: Baby K loves pancakes, and wanted some for breakfast. Having none of his favorite pancake mix in the house (whatever that mix might be), I made them from scratch, via the recipe for griddle cakes in the 1975 edition of Joy of Cooking. Things I noted: it's better with a smidge of vanilla added and using 2 eggs. It needs more milk than the recipe calls for. I need to stop putting cooking spray/butter/margerine on the pancake pan I have, as this burns quickly and makes the pancakes look burnt when they are not. But what took me by surprise was the realization that for him, the idea of cooking pancakes from a recipe in a book was worrisome. He knew what he was going to get from a box, and he knew that there are some kinds of pancake mixes that he does not like. But the idea that someone might make them without depending on the "magic" of a boxed mix was weird enough that he wondered if it was going to be something edible. His voice was full of joy and delight when he sang out that they were wonderful and gobbled them up, but his voise also had that tone of relief that indicated he had expected otherwise.

Huh. We never had pancakes much when I was a kid, although I was certainly aware of pancake mixes. But it never occurred to me that cooking them from scratch had become such a rarity in this culture that simply by following a recipe from the 1975 edition of a popular cookbook I was engaged in a resurrected recipe. I knew how to make pancakes from scratch, I just didn't bother. That's true of a lot of people. However, sometime between now and then, that's become more and more rare, to the point that I don't think I know anyone who *does* make them from scratch unless, like me, they have some reason for avoiding particular ingrediants in mixes (generally powdered milk, soy, and eggs), or they want something you can't get in a box (sourdough). It was a weird, weird moment. Pancakes are so simple, after all.

Vegetable Bowls I want to Remember: No pictures here, either, just a bit of recollection. 1: I often stirfry veggies as a simple meal, something I have been doing a lot of these past injured weeks. Two things I noticed: all that peanut oil that I have accumulated from pouring it off of the natural peanut butter I buy (rather than mixing it in) mnakes a very nice stir fry oil when serving the veggies over rice--I've been using olive for so long that I had forgotten about the nice qualities of peanut for anything other than the neat trick of making a chocolate cake taste like a chocolate-peanut butter cake by simply substituting the peanut oil for the "vegetable oil." And 2: I used to eat a lot of somen noodles, but had gotten away from that while with Michael. He hears somen, he thinks ramen, and that's the end of it. But I recalled my love for these, and for soba, and went and got some recently. I used to usually eat this with just some plain mixed vegetables mixed in, but the other day I tried stir-fried mushrooms, onions, garlic, eggplant, and seaseme seeds. A few days latter, I went with green beans, onions, garlic, and I liked that, too, although it takes a much larger amount of green beans:noodle ratio to make me happy than it takes mixed veggie:noodle ratio to make me happy. Not sure what's up with that, but I have plenty of time to try it all out.

Sourdough Pancakes, and grit yeast gravy saves a pie.

Two sorts of sourdough pancakes

I needed to use up the last of the sour dough I had prepared, and so two batches of sourdough pancakes seemed to be the solution. Fox a New Year's present, my dear friend Ghita gave me some duck eggs. Ah, duck eggs. Yum. I love eggs, and can only eat duck eggs, and so if they come to me as presents once a year, you can be sure I will eat every one. However, I did not want to spend ALL my eggs on pancakes, so I tried two different recipes. The first, the pancake on the left, based on this recipe, was very, very simple:

2 cups “heart smart” bisquick mix
1 1/2 cup almond milk
1 cup sourdough starter

Mix this all together, set aside to rise 15-30 minutes, and cook on a griddle pan.

This was actually an excellent compromise between my favorite vegan pancakes and standard sourdough pancakes. They are slightly "gummy," as sourdough can sometimes be, but I think a little more milk and flour might change that--if I bother to try. These were really quite good just the way they are, and I did not find the lack of the perfect pancake texture to be a problem at all. Very easy. Very tasty. Less need for bisquick and almond milk. I used my sourdough after it had been fed for a week; it'll be interesting to see what it's like after one day out of the fridge.

The second pancake, on the right:

1½ cups of starter with
1 duck egg, slightly beaten
1 Tablespoon of canola oil
2 Tablespoons of almond milk

2 Tablespoon of sugar
¾ Teaspoon of salt
½ teaspoon (generous) of baking soda


All ingredients were at room temp. Mix all the wet ingredients, then add the dry ingredients, and stir quickly to mix. Once the baking soda goes in, the pancakes have to be cooked immediately, so don’t mix that up until your pan is ready and you are prepared to cook the cakes. Once you add the baking soda, the rise begins immediately. It’s no joke, you have to cook them up straight away. I cooked them on a moderate heat griddle. I let them cook to the point where they were nearly dry on top—like injera—before flipping. These are thin, liquidy—you have to let them cook enough to be set.
My previous experiences with classic sourdough pancakes have not been great—gummy, with too much alkaline flavor as a result of the rising agents used. This was really good, though—I ate them straight out of the pan, with no syrup, et cetera. They make a thin pancake, and yes, with a slightly gummy quality, but it seemed to me merely to be the nature of a heavy, moist bread. Much better than eating something that tastes like the gel inserts for your shoes. "MMMM, I'm gellin'!" should not apply to pancakes. ;-)

A Vegetarian Shepherd's Pie I like!

And so, with tons of grit yeast gravy left over and a yen for Shepherds Pie that is now a year-old monster craving, I decided to give it a try. Oh, what a WIN. This is mostly a note to myself that quorn crumbles, grit yeast gravy, and sauteed veggies all mixed together will be so very tasty that the lesser quality of mashed potatoes made with vegan spread and almond milk instead of butter and whole milk will be unnoticeable, and this returns to me one of my absolute favorite comfort foods. Ah, Shepherd's Pie, how I have missed thee. You don't taste the same this way, but the difference is not worth worrying about. Yay!

Sourdough biscuits & gravy

Today's breakfast: Sourdough Biscuits with Grit Yeast Gravy
Most of the time, I consider how likely an ingredient or process was to have existed before 1601 when I am cooking for experimentations' sake. The primary reason I took to sourdough baking was to make period bread--active dry yeast was simply not around back in the day. Usually, when I make sourdough bread, I make a loaf and eat it. That hasn't worked well recently because I just haven't been eating much bread, and I have not had time to wait for the rise. It's a process, after all. Feed it the night before, prep it the next morning, spend time as needed for the rise, and then spend time as needed for the bake.

Sadly, I had let my starter languish in the fridge so long that I was wondering if I had killed it. I just had not had time to do a traditional loaf of bread. However, I need that starter to live. On Monday, I pulled it out, poured off the liquid that had accumulated on top (it was tooooo sour for my taste), and began feeding it daily for a week. I planned on doing individual rolls that could just serve me as single servings of bread when needed.

Then I thought about the delicate balance of prepping, timing, and baking all those rolls. Nope. I didn't want to do that. But now I had a crap ton of sour dough to use up. It seemed to be time to try sourdough biscuits again.

Now, the last time I made them, they were okay, but I wasn't wild about them. I used a different recipe this time. I based it on the recipe found here, and when you compare the two, you'll note that my modifications are extremely minimal:

Sour Dough Biscuits:

Mix wet:
2 cups active sourdough starter
1/4 cup olive oil

Mix dry :
1 cup all purpose flour
1 cup whole wheat flour
1 tbl baking powder
3 tbl white sugar
1 tsp salt

Combine the wet mix with the dry mix. Form into golf-ball sized pieces, and arrange into oiled cast iron pan or oiled clay baking stone to rise for 15-30 minutes. Brush tops with oil or melted butter-substitute. Bake at 400F after the rise, 15 minutes or until golden brown.

I've also a batch made with canola oil in the freezer; I don't expect them to taste significantly different, given that these were perfectly pleasant. Michael found them a little too "crisp" for his taste, but the flavor was fine.

Jodi gave me the recipe for Grit Yeast Gravy last summer, and with so many biscuits, it seemed like a good time to try it. On the whole, I thought it needed to sit for an hour before serving--it's a little too heavy on the soy sauce flavor for me right off the burner. In looking for the recipe online, I noted that Jodi's version was essentially identical to this one, except she left off the vegan worcestershire sauce. Further, I used almond milk rather than soy. It was very good, and it made WAY more gravy than I expected. Michael's judgement? Pretty good for a vegetarian meal.

Praise with some faint damnation, indeed. Well, he liked it, and that's what matters. :-) Why? Because I liked it, which means he's going to have to eat it again. ;-)

Food for Michael. And me.

First;

Michael loves moussaka. I had eggplant and was thinking of making a sort of veganized version of an eggplant lasagna I had seen at this little cooking site: Feed Me Bubbe. I'd peeled 'er up and salted 'er for that de-bittering step Bubbe recommends... and Michael saw the eggplant and turned to me with these frakking eyes so huge and weepy and hopeful that they'd make Margaret Keane cry and said, "Are you making mousakka?"

Sigh. Yes. Let me look for a recipe.

I found this one: Classic Greek Moussaka with Eggplant.

It worked out okay! It'll be easy to mod for a version I can eat, I think. I didn't have tomatoes, so I subbed 12 oz of tomato paste and 36 oz of water, and ground beef for lamb. Since I was making this for Michael, I made the basic bechamel with whole eggs rather than egg yolks, and there was no real Greek cheese to be found, so we used a mix of Americanized feta and mozzarella. Next time, not so much water with the tomato paste. Michael enjoyed it tremendously and decided that I am the Bestest. Girl. Evah. He also asked for more eggplant in it next time, and lamb rather than ground beef. And then he ate every bit of it. It was *a lot,* probably 12-15 servings worth.

I was going to make a version of it myself, with a bechamel based on nut milks and possibly nut yeast and herbs in place of cheese, no eggs, and whatever fake meat crumbles were in the fridge, but there wasn't enough eggplant.

Next time, eh? And that is why this is here. This is the base that I'll build my own version upon. :-) And I made Michael happy, so it's an all around win.

A European Mock Meat. Of a Sort. Part 2 (a).

Or, a Sort-of Roman Vegetarian Patty.


Vinegar, Wine, Carrots, Lovage, Mint: some of the components cooked up into patties

This is a more experimental version of Compatible Meat Substitute/Mock Meats based on Joanna Vaught's Veggie Burger Engine.

I like "Veggie Burger Engine" much better that "DIY Veggie Burger Formula," but then, I am steeped in geektitude. :-) Major. Geeque-ti-tude. Call the list of suggested contents and proportions what you will, this is the place that I've been starting.

My goal this time was to address wheat allergies. This recipe is based on several receipts found in Apicius, so it'll be Quite. Roman. in its flavor profile when made to my satisfaction. The primary ingredients I used are listed in Apicius and the burger recipe itself is based on Apicius #31 (A sauce for oysters and shellfish), #124 ({Carrots} another way), #201 (Another gruel -- a receipt that includes chickpeas, barley, and vegetables), and #207 (Beans and chickpeas). The only non-Roman human food item in this recipe would be the oats. According to the texts I consulted (The Natural History of Pompeii and Food in the Ancient World), oats are considered fodder in Rome. The barbarians to the north ate them, but the Romans generally did not.

Roman-inspired Protein Patty/Veggie Burger/Mock Meat:

1.5 Cups cooked barley (1)
1.5 Cups cooked chickpeas
2 cups cooked carrots
3/4 cup oat flour
1/4 cup white wine
1-3 tablespoons of apple cider vinegar (2)
1/4 cup olive oil
1 T of honey (period) or 1/2 T of simple sugar syrup (vegan) (3)
sprig of fresh mint
2 sprigs of fresh lovage
3/4 t of ground cumin
1/2 t of ground pepper

When I mixed this together, it was still very wet. Next time I try this, I might try reducing the liquid involved. Since that was not an option, I added:

1/2 cup chickpea/fava flour
1 t cumin seed
1 t lovage seed
1 t ground pepper
and 1/2 t salt

Formed into patties and popped into a 450 oven.


(1) I don't recall precisely where I found this, but there was an instruction in Apicius to soak the barley overnight. I did so, and I got a much softer barley than I usually get in the rice cooker. I am accustomed to a very chewy product out of the cooker, and a soft product only after boiling in a stew for serious swathes of time. This was just right--a barley that was not so chewy that it seemed underdone, and not so soft that it was like mush.

(2) The vinegar I used was a locally made vinegar rather than a commercial product. Vinegar produced by a factory will have a much higher acetic acid content. This is why the amount is flexible. Furthermore, a white wine vinegar and possibly a malt vinegar would also work well here.

(3) There is a great debate among vegans and those who consider themselves vegans but are not according to the strict definition. Honey, an insect byproduct, is not vegan-it's considered an animal product by many a vegan. Others, who take the view that a bee is not an animal, don't have a problem with honey. I know bees to be insects, and so I do use honey. But then, I am not a vegan. Simple sugar syrup isn't something every period cook had in the kitchen (why waste loaf sugar making a sugar solution when there is honey about?) every day, but your other typical choices for a liquid sugar, agave syrup or maple syrup, are new world in origin.

I'll have to share results tomorrow. They're completed they're cooked and been nibbled at, but it's way past my exhaustion level and I'm off to bed. All I can say for sure at this time is that they did hold together and Miguel-san found them "good, like falafel."

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.