In defense of (not eating) food

daphne on December 10, 2008

This is Kira’s plea against eating turkey.  She can offer up a defense for not eating just about anything.  She says she wants to be a vegetarian.  What she means is that she wants to be a pasta-candy-dessert-atarian.  Not that I blame her.  I too am partial to a diet that leans heavily on the most vital layer in the food pyramid: the chocolate one. I don’t know what you’ve heard, but just because I’ve got the computer set up in the kitchen doesn’t mean that I’m to blame for the pan of brownies that mysteriously disappeared this week.

Some of you may recognize the blatant plagiarism creative adapting I’ve done in the title of this piece as coming from Michael Pollan’s book, In Defense of Food.  Like the Kingsolver book I mentioned last week, it’s a must-read.  Food needs defending, Pollan claims, because much of what we eat today is actually not food, but “edible, foodlike substances.”  Real food he defines as something that “our great grandmothers would recognize as food.”  I concur 100%, and not just because both of my grandmothers were big fans of baked goods.  Most food labels these days read like War and Peace, and with a couple of kids in tow that’s just too much literature to consume in the bread aisle.

Yes, another book.  What–you didn’t know this blog came with a required reading list? Oh relax, there’s not going to be a test.  For all I know you’re not even looking for a fearless food defender.  Maybe this guy is already working for you–

It’s a bird. It’s a plane. It’s….Carrot-Man! He’s the strong, silent, food defending-type. Be warned though; his shtick relies heavily on pushing the veggies.  (Note to self: Consider getting out more.  Or at least getting the camera out of the kitchen.)

Michael Pollan said that after researching and writing his book his point could be boiled down into a few short sentences: Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.

It’s a worthy philosophy. I’d add only this: Brownies too.

Breaking the rules

daphne on December 7, 2008

Here’s the thing, sometimes a choice can feel so good, so right, and not actually be that good.  Like s’mores.  Yummy hot roasted marshmallows (read: corn syrup globules) melted on chocolate smeared on graham crackers.  Nutritionally they are inexcusable.  But in terms of happy children you’d be hard pressed to get a better bang for your calories.  It’s more than just hopped-up sugar fiends; it’s sitting around a fire, it’s laughing, it’s being together in that sugar-coated moment.  A family that binges on chocolate together, stays together. So says I, anyway.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not shirking from the Herculean task of doing right by my children.  Broccoli and beans are a vital part of healthy development.  I’m just saying that there are defensible reasons for breaking a rule every now and then.  One, I need my treats.  Two, it’s fun to keep the kids guessing.

Our family has packed up campfires, and so go the s’mores for the season.  But as outside fires die down the heat of the oven kicks up.  We haven’t let the spectacular exploding bread caper deter us from throwing things around the kitchen.  This weekend, inspired by the wonderful book I just read, we made brownies.  And when I say brownies I do not mean the same brownie recipe, that dependable and foolproof recipe that I’ve been making since I was 12.  I mean these incredible brownies.  We made them for guests that got sick and canceled.  Our brave family of four heeded the call.  And ate the decadent brownies ourselves.

Sometimes going green means eating your veggies.  And sometimes going green means letting the flour leave poofy trails on the floor and on your cheeks.  It means letting the little ones lick the bowl.  And sometimes success is measured not in grams of fat or molecules of vitamins, but in globs of chocolate shmeared on smiling faces.

Ruth’s Amazing Brownies

daphne on December 7, 2008

Adapted from Ruth Reichle’s recipe, from her book Tender at the Bone.

2/3 cup butter
5 oz unsweetened chocolate
2 teaspoons vanilla
4 eggs
½ teaspoon salt
2 cups sugar
1 cup sifted flour (add 1 Tbls for high altitude)

Preheat oven to 400°.

Melt the butter and chocolate in a double boiler.  Remove from heat, add vanilla and set aside

Beat eggs and salt.  Add the sugar and beat at high speed until white (about 5 minutes.)

Add chocolate and butter mixture to the eggs and beat on low until just mixed.

Add flour and mix until just combined.

Pour into greased and floured 9X13 (or so) pan and put in oven.

Immediately reduce heat to 350°.  Bake for about 35 minutes (toothpick should not come out clean.)

Gotta go for the garlic

daphne on December 4, 2008

You know how it goes, your spend your whole life without a particular nugget of knowledge, and then suddenly there it is; everyone is talking about it everywhere you go. Lately, that’s how it’s been with me and garlic.  I love having garlic on my team.  I use it indiscriminately–always starting out with a little of it simmering softly in some olive oil, and regardless of where I end up my kitchen smells like I mean business.  Like I know what I am doing.  But the buzz I’m hearing says that cooking with garlic is not the end all be all. The universe has been badgering me with a different message:

You can grow garlic.

What? Grow garlic? Now I know that garlic doesn’t arrive on this planet neatly pulverized in glass jars. But truth be told I never gave any thought to how it grew.  Until recently that is, when the universe became bent on converting me into a garden garlic maven.

The latest hint I received by way of a new magazine called the Edible Front Range. It’s a cool new freebie that focuses on the local food movement.  And guess what? They’re talking about planting garlic.

Most of what I’ve been hearing revolves around this one fact: you plant garlic in the fall.  Hey Universe, know what? It’s December. Maybe that’s why I’ve been so deftly ignoring your hints.  Ok, maybe the first whisper about planting garlic arrived before the first frost, but hey, I was still preening about my revolutionary day spent planting tulip bulbs. My thoughts were dancing with the colorful, not the culinary.

Looking out over my computer into a white blanketed yard, I can safely entertain ideas of growing garlic without actually having to put spade to frozen tundra.  I know this, thanks to a fact I unearthed in that cute new magazine. Procrastinators delight,  garlic can be planted in the spring too.

And so it shall be…

But spring is a long way off, and I’ve got garlic on my mind now.  So here’s what I’m thinking: the last of the CSA garlic sure would be tasty roasted up and slathered the next loaf of homemade bread. The one I’ll be baking just as soon as my copy of Artisan Bread in Five Minutes arrives.

Only November, so where’d all that food go?

daphne on November 24, 2008

Perhaps you remember our good pal, Squiggy? The famous fiend of the savage sunflower attack of ’08? That notorious backyard napper? Well, let’s just say he’s all caught up on his sleep and not wasting his time batting around flowers anymore.  He’s all business.

And I’m kind of falling in awe with the little guy. Such a busy beaver rodent. Scurrying to and fro gathering apples from the tippy top of our tree and pumpkins from doorstops around the neighborhood, all in a thorough preparation to keep his furry family fed.  I’m passing my parent-of-the-year award over to Squiggy.  Perhaps my children as well, since I totally missed the boat on shoring up my shelves for the long cold winter.

It’s November. Only mid-November, and gone are the pounds of delicious strawberry applesauce. Gone are the hundreds of jars of jam.  Of course you remember the freezer full of squash puree that my dear parents put up in my absence? Gone. Every last ziploc baggie of it, gone.  What’s left? Two jars of tomato sauce.  I’ll consider it serendipitous that the kids prefer pasta and pizza sans sauce while I try to configure a lasagna that’ll take us through Spring.

As I gaze into my bare cupboards I think of Barbara Kingsolver.  She made it seem fun and easy to keep her family fed on homegrown efforts.  I think too of Frontier House, a gem of a reality show on PBS a few years back.  The mission: survive out on the homestead.  Those who failed to put up enough food and firewood by the time the snows came got voted off.  (Disclaimer: no families were left to freeze and/or starve in the making of this show.)

This much I know is true:

  1. I worked hard.  I planted. I picked. I pureed.
  2. The food did not last. My family is doomed to starvation (let’s pretend that old nag Nellie is not well enough to make the trip to SuperTarget.)
  3. I am fiercely competitive.
  4. I will not be voted off this homestead.
  5. Squiggy sure is looking plump these days…
  6. Stuffed full as he is with fresh apples and pumpkin…
  7. I’ll just tell the kids he went away for little awhile,
  8. A vacation, a little squirrel sales trip, that’s all. Nothing to worry about kids,
  9. Now sit down and eat your dinner.

Crusty artisan bread with shards of glass

daphne on November 18, 2008

Mmmm, hot, crusty and fresh from the oven. With just a smattering of shattered glass.  Nothing says homemade like fresh bread.  At least that’s what they all say.  The results of my efforts, however, proved otherwise.

If you are dreaming of fresh loaves that look something like this:

You might want to go and check out Farmhouse Greetings. She makes bread the old fashioned way, without glass fragments.

But if you’re not a sissy, stick with me.

I should make one thing clear: my mother is in no way responsible for the events surrounding the spectacular exploding bread caper of ’08.  Really. It’s just that in sharing the recipe over the phone some things got lost in translation, like the fact that her lasagna pan was made of something other than glass.

The gist of the bread baking is this: you create a huge hunk of the dough, keep it in the fridge, and then tear it off and bake as needed.  What keeps the bread soft and fluffy on the inside yet crusty on the outside?  A steaming pan of water, simmering just beneath the baking bread.

Word to the wise: despite the fact that your inner voice might object using only a nagging whisper, LISTEN WHEN IT TELLS YOU NOT TO ADD WATER TO A HOT GLASS PAN.   I’m not saying that I would do anything that insanely stupid, I’m just saying, if you’ve got a little voice, you might want to listen up.

So how do you encrust a warm loaf of artisan bread with billions of tiny shards of glass?  Easy.  Just heat an empty glass pan to 450°.  Lean your head into the hot oven. Pour lukewarm water into the pan and watch the fireworks.  It’s a spectacular show.

Brave reader, here is what your oven may look like after just one shattered glass, bread-baking bash:

Mom got her recipe from a new book, Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day. She loves it. Having pilfered the recipe over the phone I can say that I am not a huge fan of the million shards of flying glass part of the recipe. But Mom’s breads consistently turn out warm and crusty and, most notably, glass-free.

And she tells me that eating bread without risk of blood is just as enjoyable as my way.  So maybe next time I’ll just buy the book.

What about those pumpkins?

daphne on November 13, 2008

Oh yeah, I almost forgot. We need to talk about those post-Halloween pumpkins. They are still handy, you know, once the cute pictures have been snapped and the last of the candy has been pilfered from the children’s hiding spots.

The way I see it, once the carving knife has been retired there are a couple of options.

Option Number One: Stage your own Disney-esque critter film festival. I set the bait and then used my extensive techno-abilities to create the following neat-o retro flip-book-style film. Simply wiggle your computer back and forth to see Squiggy in full animated motion.

We first meet Squiggy as he cautiously approaches the treasure,

He gives it a little sniff-sniff,

Then dives in, ass over tea-kettle.

He perches, savoring the fruits of his labor.

Finally we see our hero; leaning in exhaustion and searching for the inner strength to carry on.

I know, I know, it’s touching and sweet. I am a woman of many talents. But for those of you who may be hesitant about challenging Mr. Disney and his world of critter creations, there is another way to go.

Option Number Two: When life rots the pumpkins, make pumpkin puree! That way, with a freezer of golden orange mush and just a modicum of self restraint you too can enjoy pumpkin treats on many a snowy day to come.

I love these muffins but I do recognize that it’s time to branch out. I hereby promise to collect, cook, taste and share recipes for other pumpkin treats. Soon.

Pumpkin is perfect for reasons beyond just keeping muffins moist without adding fat. If you’re into the health thing, or just wish you knew more about our favorite gourd, swing by Kermit’s Corner. We’ve got a list of interesting factoids about what a couple of cups of pumpkin can do for you.

Happy feasting!

Let them eat pumpkin

daphne on November 12, 2008

I’m first in line behind the old rallying call of Let Them Eat Cake. So trust me when I say that adding pumpkin to your cakes, your muffins, your breads, is the way to go. Open up, and embrace all things pumpkin. Why? Well, it’s a great low-fat substitute for oil, plus it makes things taste great. But there are loads of other good reasons. I’ve scanned the web and gathered a few for you here.

Health & Nutrition Benefits of Eating Pumpkin
  • Pumpkin is rich in carotenoids, good for keeping the immune system strong.
  • Beta-carotene, found in pumpkin, is a powerful antioxidant as well as an anti-inflammatory agent. It helps prevent build up of cholesterol on the arterial walls, thus reducing chances of strokes.
  • Being rich in alpha-carotene, pumpkin is believed to slow the process of aging and also prevent cataract formation.
  • Pumpkins have been known to reduce the risk of macular degeneration, a serious eye problem than usually results in blindness.
  • The high amount of fiber, present in a pumpkin, is good for the bowel health of an individual.
  • Being loaded with potassium, pumpkin is associated with lowering the risk of hypertension.
  • The presence of zinc in pumpkins boosts the immune system and also improves the bone density.

The Native Americans were aware of all the benefits in pumpkin. Here’s a handful of random fact, borrowed from HUBpages.

  • Yuma tribes created an emulsion from pumpkin seeds and watermelon to help heal wounds. The seed oil was also used to treat burns and wounds.
  • Catawabas ate pumpkin seeds either fresh or dry as a medicine for kidney support.
  • Menominees mixed powdered squash and water to for urinary support.
  • Modern folk healers believe the pumpkin to be beneficial in ridding the body of intestinal worms and also believe the ground stem of the pumpkin brewed into a tea may help ease women during their menstrual cycle.

Pumpkin puree

daphne on November 12, 2008

Pumpkin puree is a great way to get a dose of beta-carotene while substituting out the fat in many recipes (use in place of the oil.) My favorite recipe using pumpkin is these yummy muffins. Perfect for school lunches and afternoon snacks.

Here’s how it’s done:

  • Microwave a whole pumpkin for a couple of minutes. This is not necessary, but it makes it a whole lot easier to cut in half.
  • Cut the pumpkin in half, and remove as much of the seeds and strings as you can.
  • Tip them cut-side down into a non-glass baking dish with about an inch or two of water.
  • Roast in a 425° oven for about 45 minutes, or until the flesh is very mushy. If the water evaporates before the pumpkins soften, add more water to the pan.
  • When they are mushy, remove and allow to cool. Put into a food processor in small chunks and blend until smooth.

Use right away, or freeze for later.

To freeze for easy use in recipes later on, measure out the puree in 1 cup heaps and place on a wax-paper covered cooking sheet. Once frozen, remove and put in a ziploc or other container for storage in the freezer.

Pick a peck of pumpkins

daphne on November 10, 2008

Disclosure: I don’t know how all those bloggers out there stay on top of things. I write the stuff down, really I do, but then there were election results to check 157 times a day (phew, anyone else happy that that’s behind us?) There’s the laundry to swap out, and then it’s time for swim lessons and dinner, and well, here I am weeks later and that brilliant piece o’ literature I prepared is all yellowed and crinkly.

So for this post I’m going to take you back, back a few weeks when the weather was still on the fence and I was feeling crabby about the sunshiny threat of an eternal summer. Back when the innocent days of early October beckoned our family to the pumpkin farm…

I was thinking pumpkins and spiced cider, but the wishy-washy weather felt differently, rearing its sunny head to the delight of the raspberries and other evil pollen producers that extended my sneezy season well beyond the limits of what a rational person should have to bear.

Lovely, yeah; sweet, sure. Everything coming up floral; frankly, I’m over it. Hello? Ice and snow? I’m bumping up against the legal limits for Sudafed purchases here.

Still, the unseasonable warmth did provide a nice opportunity to hit the pumpkin patch unburdened by heavy coats and muddy boots. The corn maze was high and the wheat was a’waving as we met up with Uncle David and cousin Felix to pick a perfect gourd, or five.

The children frolicked in the corn and fed some chickens. And occasionally gave in to mom’s irritating requests for pictures.

We came. We picked. Maybe we whined a little bit but that’s only because it was really hot and the hay was poking through the flip flops and come on when is it going to be time for lunch? You know, pumpkin patch perfection.

After all, Acadia found this guy, and he kept her pretty busy.