JAMIE|LIVING

New Jamie Living Blog: Check it out!

2011-03-03T14:53:00.000-08:00

The last month has been very exciting for Jamie Living as I launched a new website and with it, a new blog. I know, can you stand it? So cool! What this means though is that as of today, right now in fact, this is the last post you will receive from jamieliving.blogspot.com. Don't worry, all of my previous recipes have been transferred over and there is even a new recipe for Braised Lamb Shanks and Creamy Cannellini Beans that many of you have not seen yet!

So, the best way to keep receiving your delicious Jamie Living recipes and food stories is to update your RSS feed. Simply visit the blog and click Subscribe via RSS on the right hand side. Don't worry, it will only take a second and that way we can stay friends, right? ....RIGHT. I'd also love to hear any of your thoughts on the new website and blog. As you know, comments are always welcome. Much love and I will see you on the other side :) Jamie

Fudgy Black Bean Brownies

2011-02-11T11:21:00.000-08:00

I know, I know. Who would have thought beans ever belonged in brownies? But they do! I've actually been sitting on this recipe for almost 3 years since I first saw it on Heidi Swanson's 101cookbooks. Intrigued though not yet fully committed, I decided to wait for the perfect moment to make them. As you know I hate baking, so if I'm going to whip out my sad baking skills, it is going to be for something worth it. And yes, these brownies are totally worth it!

I made my first batch a few weeks ago for my Dad's birthday and have been craving them ever since. In fact, when my parents departed I didn't even offer to send them with a few morsels. I justified it to myself that they were getting on a plane and the brownies were sure to be smashed in their carry-ons. In reality however, I just didn't want to share. I'm a terrible daughter!

So, there are a few fantastic things about these brownies. First, and most obviously, they are loaded with black beans. This means more fiber to help slow the absorption rate of the sweetener. Second, they are completely gluten free. And third, and perhaps most importantly, the absence of flour produces brownies of such a rich, creamy, and fudge-like consistency you cannot help but be immediately addiction. (If you prefer more "cakey" brownies, these might not be for you.)

I made a few Jamie Living changes to the recipe including a delicious combination of butter and coconut oil and substituting brown rice syrup for agave. I get asked almost weekly my thoughts on agave and I have to say, I'm not a huge fan. I don't enjoy the taste as much as other alternative sweeteners and I find it really gives me a sugar shock. (I once had a bit too much at a particular raw restaurant and found myself too shaky to drive home. I know, I'm a delicate flower!) If you are into agave however, Madhava seems to be the best brand. Brown rice syrup works beautifully in this recipe and adds a lovely, almost burnt caramel flavor. If you can't get your hands on brown rice syrup, real maple syrup would also work very well.

Now let me just say that these brownies are dangerously good. Once you make this recipe you will want to keep them on hand...permanently. Which may not necessarily be a bad thing. I mean beans, eggs, a little chocolate...how could you go wrong! So now this Valentine's Day there is no excuse to get sucked into a box of junky, doesn't-taste-that-good-anyway chocolate, when you could have these ridiculous brownies. Happy baking and enjoy!

Fudgy Black Bean Brownies

4 ounces unsweetened chocolate (I used Sunspire organic, fair-trade 100% cacao bar)
1 stick unsalted organic butter
1 1/2 tablespoons extra virgin coconut oil
2 cups cooked back beans, rinsed and drained
1 cup walnuts, chopped
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
Pinch of cloves
1/4 teaspoon sea salt
4 organic eggs
1 cup brown rice syrup (Lundberg is my favorite)

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees. Line an 8 1/2 by 11-inch baking dish with parchment paper and lightly butter it.

Melt the chocolate, butter, and coconut oil in a small sauce pan over low-medium heat. Stir to make sure the chocolate is fully melted. Set aside.

Place the beans, 1/2 a cup of walnuts, vanilla extract, and 3 spoonfuls of the chocolate mixture into a food processor and blend until smooth. The batter will be pretty thick. Set aside.

In a large bowl, mix together the remaining 1/2 cup of walnuts, the remaining melted chocolate mixture, cloves and salt. Mix well and set aside.

In another bowl, beat the eggs until light and creamy, about 1 minute, then add the brown rice syrup and mix together.

Add the bean mixture to the walnut/chocolate/cloves mixture and stir until well blended. Add the egg mixture and stir well to combine. Place the batter into the lined baking pan and bake for 35-40 minutes, until the brownies are set. Removes from the oven and let cool. Cover and place in the fridge for a few hours or overnight for best results.

Curried Kale and Shiitake Mushrooms

2011-01-31T09:18:00.001-08:00

It may seem like I'm on a curry kick and...well, I am. I love using curry powder in the winter when I need a little something warm in my tummy. And please don't think curry has to be a big production (as in creating an entire Indian buffet because you somehow thought it was necessary when you promised your husband curry). I sneak a zesty addition of curry powder into my tahini tuna fish, onto roasted butternut squash and grilled zucchini, as well as into my dark leafy greens.

Now I haven't spoken of my favorite vegetable for a while so I think it's time for an ode to kale. First know however, that the first 21 years of my life were dedicated to broccoli. Yes, I ate lettuce, greens beans, asparagus and boy choy but none of these held my attention like broccoli. Its textured crown and crunchy stalk were forever welcome on my plate, whether steamed, roasted or, in my favorite childhood fashion, drowned in my mother's curried mayo and lemon sauce. So when I started cooking for myself, not surprisingly broccoli was the first item on my shopping list. I strolled down the vegetables aisle looking at the chard, spinach and a leafy unknown named kale, and always ran back to the safety of my broccoli. So what changed? Well I did't get bored if that's what you're thinking. As a creature (and

eater) of habit I would have happily stayed a sole broccoli eater had I not ventured into macrobiotics. In adjusting my food to a more plant-based diet, I was forced to branch out a bit. Truly, when half your plate is required vegetables, there is honestly only so much broccoli you can eat.

My next trip to the market I begrudgingly bought a head of kale. The large leaves flattened in the middle and attached to a hearty stalk while the outer edges curled up, making each leaf look like a large green fan. "What the hell am I going to do with this? " I thought. Broccoli was simple. Rinse, chop, saute, done. This looked way more complicated. My macrobiotic cookbook recommended I steam the kale then drizzle sesame oil and tamari over the top. The preparation was easy enough: rinse, chop then steam, and the result was okay, even good actually. Though not as sweet as broccoli, I enjoyed its chloroform-filled taste and if I didn't steam the kale to death, I could get a nice al dente (almost broccoli-like) texture. And with that one recipe, I was kale-inspired! I soon branched out and tried red kale, lacinato kale and red Russian kale. I sauteed kale with garlic and onions, tossed it into soups, threw it into smoothies, and mixed it in with my beans and rice. (Now that I eat meat, I love it with braised beef, or chicken, or fish or well, any animal protein actually.)

Though I've never lost my broccoli love, "culinarily" speaking kale goes where broccoli just can't. Sure I can put broccoli into a soup or a stir-fry but it has to be at the last minute to make sure the broccoli doesn't turn to mush. Kale, alternatively, somehow always holds its physical integrity, making it a much more versatile vegetable. Rarely does a day go by when I do not eat kale in some form or another. I simply adore it, though will admit I should probably branch out a bit...you know, give chard a chance, perhaps. I actually partook in my ole' buddy broccoli last night and it was a nice change of pace. I guess when it comes down to it, I'm just a greens freak!

The key to falling in love with greens is preparing them the right way. Rarely do plain vegetables entice the taste buds, but if prepared well with spices and good fats, there is no end to the delicious possibilities. Here is my current favorite way to make kale. I made this recipe at a cooking demo just last week where a 10-year old told me it was "the best thing she has ever eaten!" She might have been exaggerating for my ego's sake, but hey I'll take it. It also went over well with a 5 and 7-year old pair of siblings whose father told me neither of them will eat kale. After one bite the 7-year old proclaimed, " Dad, we'd eat kale if you made it like this!" And with those kinds of endorsements, there is not much else to say. Enjoy!

Curried Kale and Shiitake Mushrooms

Serves 4 as a side

2 tablespoons extra virgin coconut oil

1/2 a red onion, diced

1 clove garlic, minced

4 ounces (about 1 1/2 cups) shiitake or trumpet mushrooms, chopped

1/2-1 teaspoon curry powder

1 bunch kale, washed, ends trimmed, and chopped

sea salt and pepper

pinch of nutmeg to taste

2 tablespoons water

Warm the oil in a large skillet over medium heat and add the onions. Cook until translucent and a bit golden, about 10 minutes. Add the garlic, mushrooms, curry powder and a pinch of salt, stir well, and cook until the mushrooms have softened.

Add the kale and combine with the mushroom mixture. Reduce the heat to low, add another pinch of salt, pepper, nutmeg and the water and cover and cook for about 7 minutes. The kale should be nicely wilted and bright green and the liquid mostly evaporated.

Hong Kong Style Curry

2011-01-20T09:53:00.000-08:00

Who knew Chinese cuisine included curry? Well, I assume the Chinese but I had absolutely no idea. I naively thought this delectable dish came to life solely in the hands of Thai, Indian, and Vietnamese chefs. This assumption shows you how much I know...I've also recently discovered Burmese and Japanese curry and guess at this point I should just assume all of Asia has got some sort of curry going on. However, this does not mean all curries are created equal. While Indian curries tend to focus on thick, turmeric-infused sauces and the Thai and Vietnamese rely heavily on lemongrass and coconut milk to produce thinner, more soup like curries, Chinese curry is right in-between: thick and well-spiced with a rich coconut base. Now the first time I happened upon curry at my favorite Chinese restaurant, I was entirely confused. In fact, I eyed said curry for several months before ever ordering it, gauging the excited responses as it arrived at other patrons tables. It certainly intrigued me but I was so addicted to their anise-spiced beef stew, I just couldn't take the leap (yes, creature of habit, here I am). Still, whenever we had a new server I'd ask him or her for their take on the curry. "It's the best dish on the menu," each one would gush. "Great, I'll take the beef stew," was my standard reply. Obviously I wasn't ready. One day, however, the stars finally aligned.

It was a bitter cold night, I had just filmed my first cooking class and I was in desperate need of something warming, creamy and comforting. I knew I was ready because I did not ask the newly-arrived waiter his thoughts on the curry. I simply said, "Hong Kong curry, please." A daring move, I know. Twenty fidgety-with-excitement minutes later, a steaming plate of orange-tinged stew arrived, and after swooning over the first bite, I immediately began to berate myself for not ordering it sooner. Consequently, and rather inevitably, a new dish addiction emerged. In fact, since ordering my first Chinese curry a year ago, I have yet to return to the beef. Okay to be completely honest, I sometimes make Gray get the beef so I can have a little bite...you know, get the best of both worlds.

The star of the curry and provider of its brilliant orange color is none other than my personal favroite, kabocha squash, which after about an hour of cooking melts into the coconut milk to create a sweet, starchy sauce that needs nothing else. In fact, that is the entire curry: coconut milk, kabocha squash and good quality curry powder. After this incredible revelation that all but changed my life, I decided to make my own version of Hong Kong curry to see if I could come close to the original. And I must say, mine is pretty awesome! The primary difference is that I added a few other vegetables to the mix, just to lighten it up a bit (in a good way). Even better, the curry is doubly delicious the next day as the spices have had time to coalesce and the coconut milk has thickened. Enjoy!

Hong Kong Curry

Serves 3

1 1/2 cans organic, full-fat coconut milk

1 tablespoon curry powder

1 inch fresh ginger, peeled and minced

1/2 a red onion, diced

One 1/2 a kabocha squash, seeded, peeled and cubed

1 8-inch daikon radish, peeled and chopped into 1/2 inch rounds

Sea salt

1/2 -3/4 cup of water

1 cup shitake mushrooms, chopped

1 cup broccoli florets

1 cup cauliflower florets

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. In a small Dutch oven mix together the coconut milk and curry powder. Add the ginger, onion, kabocha squash, daikon radish, a bit of salt and the water. Mix together and place in the oven for 45 minutes. The daikon and kabocha should be very tender and the sauce thickened. If it needs to cook a little more, keep it in the oven for an additional 10 minute or so.

Remove the curry from the oven and place on the stove. Remove the lid and add the mushrooms, broccoli, cauliflower and another pinch of salt. If the curry has reduced too much you many also add a bit more water. Mix thoroughly and place on low-medium heat until the vegetables have softened. Taste for flavor and add a bit more curry powder or salt if necessary.

The first evening I served this dish with poached eggs (scrambled would work well too) and for lunch the following day I topped it off with a bit of sauerkraut. So good!

Shakshuka

2011-01-06T15:09:00.000-08:00

Years ago, while living in my second tacky Berkeley apartment, my mother gave me a beautiful stainless steel All-Clad pot. What prompted this wonderful gifting was that my parents were coming up for a visit and I was having visions of grandeur about making them brunch in my closet-sized kitchen. A few days earlier, I had stumbled upon a Mario Batali recipe of baked eggs in spinach which had all of my "I'm-in-college-and-I-don't-cook", criteria: It was easy, healthy, and looked freaking yummy! The only problem was that among my ridiculous mix of IKEA pans and hand-me-down knives, I didn't have the right cooking vessel. "What can I bring you?" my mom asked a few days before their visit. "Um...how about a stainless steel pot?" I asked, worried that she was thinking more along the lines of cookies and laundry detergent. "A pot it is! We can't wait to see you," she gushed.

They soon arrived, pot in tow, like wide-eyed collegiates themselves, eager to explore the campus, near-by restaurants, and of course, drag me to Target. And with all the running around, I completely forgot to make them brunch! That's right...it never happened, and that poor Batali recipe has gone unmade to this day (though over the years I've thought about it a lot, if that counts for anything). Fast forward nearly a decade to last month when I went to an amazing Israeli restaurant on the recommendation of my dear, foodie loving friend Asi. (We quickly connected freshman year of high school over our mutual love of swing dancing, mutual dislike of our Spanish teacher Senor Tucker, and our severe addiction to sushi.)

As I was going on and on in my debriefing to him about my glorious meal (a requisite after any Asi recommendation) he interrupted me and said, "Have you ever had Shakshuka?" Now, Asi talks really fast, so to be honest I had no idea what he said. "One more time, please", I teased. "Shakshuka. It's an Israeli breakfast dish of eggs baked in spicy tomato sauce. It's awesome!" Though the only thing this dish had in common with the never-attempted egg recipe of my young adulthood was well, eggs, I was definitely intrigued. So I decided this dish, this little Israeli breakfast favorite, would be my baked egg redemption. It was on!

Shakshuka truly is, in Asi's words, awesome! It is terrifically easy and provides such amazing flavor you almost feel like it's cheating. Honestly, it is a bone fide too-good-to-be-true dish. Traditionally eaten for breakfast, I served it for dinner alongside basmati rice and a cabbage and arugula salad. Though perfect for a no-time-to-cook evening, I would venture to say Shakshuka is a dish to be eaten at any time. I used cayenne to create the spice, but a jalapeño pepper would do the job just as well. And for those of you familiar with Shakshuka you are probably thinking, "But she forgot the bell pepper!" Please know, I did not forget the bell pepper. They just aren't in season at the moment so I took a leap and went without it. I promise to throw one in come July. Enjoy!

Shakshuka (Poached Eggs in Spicy Tomato Sauce)

Serves 2

1/4 cup of olive oil

1/2 a medium yellow onion, diced

3 cloves garlic, minced

2 teaspoons ground cumin

1 teaspoon ground paprika

1/4-1/2 teaspoon cayenne

1 28-ounce whole peeled tomatoes (you can also used a can of crushed fire roasted tomatoes)

1/4 cup water

Sea salt and pepper to taste

4 organic eggs

In a medium sized pot, heat the olive oil over medium heat. Add the onions and cook until soft and golden, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic, cumin, paprika and cayenne. Mix thoroughly and cook for another 2-3 minutes.

Put the tomatoes and their liquid in a bowl and break them up with your hands. Add the tomatoes and liquid plus a 1/4 of water to the onion mixture. Place the heat on medium and allow to simmer, stirring occasionally, until slightly thick, about 10-12 minutes. Season with salt.

Crack each egg into the pot so they are evenly distributed and remain close to the surface. Cover and cook until the yolks are set, roughly 6 minutes. Sprinkle salt and pepper over each egg and ladle onto individual plates with rice and salad.

Mushroom and Kabocha Squash Soup

2011-01-05T09:13:00.000-08:00

I never thought it would come to this but I am COOKED OUT! This unusual feeling stems from the fact that I'm still recuperating from 4 beautiful, snow-packed days in Mammoth with 11 friends and family members. We laughed, we drank, we danced and we certainly ate. Normally on such a trip I divide the meals among the guests (you know, to divvy up the work), but this year my controlling brain took over and I decided to be in charge of all 4 dinners. That's right, every single one with enough to feed 11 people. I clearly wasn't in my right mind. Oh, and of course with my persnickety penchant for only organic ingredients, I had to bring everything with me. So when Gray and I stuffed the car with two coolers full of chicken, beef, an 8-pound pork shoulder and 10 heads of kale, I knew two things: One, my husband was a saint for dealing with my food insanity, and two, I had bitten off way more than I wanted to chew. And yet, despite all my Jewish-mother worrying, many guests volunteered as sous chefs and everything turned out fantastic (and yes we had enough). They eagerly took my orders, accepted my crazy cook antics, and didn't balk too much when I showed them how to wash the lettuce my way or chop the kale just so.

And now I am home in my own little kitchen, desperately missing all their help. Who wants to come over and be my sous chef? Since getting home on Saturday, I've done little more than make salad and reheat Mammoth leftovers. Gotta love leftovers. But when yesterday rolled around I knew I had to cooking something fresh. You can only eat beef chili and chicken tagine for so many days in a row, no matter how delicious it is. So off I went to the farmers market to grab ingredients for a soup. I didn't know what kind of soup...all I knew was that I wanted to throw stuff into a pot and call it a day.

Before I get into my recipe, first let me preface: I adore mushrooms! Their meaty texture and deep flavor have always entranced my taste-buds, especially as a child when I often downed copious amounts of Campbell's Cream of Mushroom soup. (I actually once requested it at a friend's house to which her mother replied,"Really? We only use mushroom soup when mixing it with green beans." To which I responded, "Gross!" I don't remember being invited over for dinner again.) Another reason I love mushrooms is that they add a heartiness and sense of satiety to dishes which is ideal when going meat-free. And so, I grabbed a mixed bag of trumpet, oyster and shittake mushrooms from my favorite mushroom lady, remembering they would pair well with the unused kabocha squash I had sitting at home.

What emerged after 30 minutes of them co-mingling in the pot was sweet, unctuous and shockingly decadent. Wow! To avoid a sad soup that tasted like salty, boiled vegetables I first roasted the kabocha squash with ginger and lemon and sauteed the mushrooms with onions and garlic to get the good umami flavor going. Freaking good. To add a bit of protein, and what I like to think of as my 'pièce de résistance', I topped each bowl with a fried egg. A poached or soft boiled egg works just as well depending on your preference, or if you have leftover brown rice, white beans or shredded chicken, you could throw those in as well.

The options are endless when starting with this base so feel free to play around with whatever is in the fridge. I love a quick, warming soup during the winter and have a sneaking suspicion this particular one will be making an appearance again very soon. Enjoy!

Mushroom and Kabocha Squash Soup

Serves 3

1 small kabocha squash, peeled, seeded, and cubed

1/2 teaspoon ginger powder

1 teaspoon lemon juice

3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil, divided

2 small red onions, chopped

2 garlic cloves, chopped

3/4 pound mixed mushrooms (oyster, trumpet, shittake, chantrelles, etc.), chopped

5 cups water

2 teaspoons tamari (San-J and Eden are my favorite brands.)

2 teaspoons fish sauce (I use Golden Boy. Whichever one you choose, make sure there are no added preservatives or MSG.)

1 teaspoon toasted unrefined sesame oil

1 handful cilantro

Preheat the oven to 415 degrees. Place the cubed squash into a baking dish and mix with 1 tablespoon olive oil, ginger powder, lemon juice , and sea salt. Roast for 4o minutes until the squash is nicely browned. Set aside.

In a large stock pot, warm the remaining olive oil. Add the onions and cook until nicely browned. Add the garlic and cook for another minute or so. Mix in the chopped mushrooms with a pinch of salt and cover for 3-5 minutes. Remove the cover and toss the mushrooms to make sure they are evenly cooking and wilted a bit. Add the water and squash, bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer and cook, partially covered, for 10 minutes.

Taste the broth and add a bit of salt if needed. Add the tamari and fish sauce and let cook for another 3 minutes. Mix in the sesame oil and taste for flavor. Add a bit more tamari and fish sauce if needed. Toss in the cilantro leaves and serve. Enjoy!

Gluten Free Sesame and Anise Cookies

2010-12-16T14:38:00.000-08:00

I love cookies. Which is funny for a girl who doesn't eat sugar. But I have to admit, there is just something fantastic about those chewy treats that fit so neatly in the palm of your hand. And yes, I am a chewy cookie girl, not a crunch-loving one. "What about cupcakes?", you ask. Nope, never been a fan. I'm not a cake fan either. Too light and airy. In fact, had my mother make giant chocolate and butterscotch chip ice cream balls for my 8th birthday as a protest against cake. (Disclaimer: This statement does not include cheesecake or flourless chocolate cakes.) And yet for all my cookie love, I didn't actually have a real chocolate chip cookie until I was a preteen. And let me tell you...when I finally bit into the rich, buttery goodness, noticed the sharp zing of sugar and coating of fat on my tongue, I immediately plopped it down on the table and thought,“What the heck is this and what have I been eating all these years!?!”

As with all things, it began with my mother. My mom loves to bake and couldn't wait to have a little girl with whom she could share her baking joy. She got the daughter she wanted but everything else was a no-go. I am not a baker, never have never will be, and though to this day I'm happy to talk her ear off in the kitchen, she knows not to ask me to measure or whisk. My mother's baking also comes with a single caveat: she’s a hippie baker. As a kid, butter substitutes, fructose and carob lined our pantry and glared at me from their “better-than-thou” perches. By everyday standards I don’t think I’m even allowed to call her baked round experiments "cookies", though they were certainly cookies to me and my siblings. Each baked treat harbored whole rolled oats and a good dose of the wheat germ that lived in the refrigerator side door. As I am now learning more about baked goods, I keep hearing this term “crumb”. Like “the cake had a nice light crumb” or “the scone with its richly textured crumb.” Yet, I know nothing about “crumbs” for the simple fact that my mother’s baking didn’t have any! God bless that sweet hippie baker, with her whole wheat dense-as-a-door edibles. Everything that came out of her kitchen weighed about 5 pounds, packed with walnuts, dried fruit and an extreme colon-cleansing amount of fiber. Her cookies were toughly-textured things that broke off in large chunks rather than crumbling under the pressure of one’s teeth. And I loved them. I still do actually. I have to admit that because of my earliest experiences with what I thought were "real" cookies, I’m still a major fan of the healthy hippie stuff and am repelled by sickeningly sweet cakes and muffins that leave your teeth aching and your mouth begging for a scrapper to remove the shellac of sugar and fat. And yes, my sugar queen sister thinks I'm annoying but my dentist loves me.

Sugar is such a popular topic, especially during the holidays. In fact, it is safe to say that almost every day in December a client asks for healthy dessert recipes. I've only posted a few which include my delicious chocolate truffles, brown rice crispy treats and date walnut tea biscuits. So here is a new cookie I just made for my friend's annual cookie party. It is gluten-free (a nice healthy buzz word) and is sweetened with real maple syrup. The great thing about bringing healthier desserts to a party is you can eat your own stuff without getting sucked into all the other junk. Here is a quick rundown on exactly what makes a dessert healthy. And no, it does not mean low fat. Healthy, in my book anyway, means high quality fat, unrefined sweeteners, and whole grain (or no grain) flours. Here is a list for you to use to make your holiday desserts a little more healthy.

Fats: Use organic butter or extra virgin coconut oil rather than refined vegetable oils

Sweeteners: Substitute honey, maple syrup, brown rice syrup or unrefined/unbleached cane sugar for white and brown sugar (Here is a handy conversion sheet)

Flours: Use whole wheat pastry flour or almond flour instead of enriched white flour

Be warned: These cookies are dangerously good. They are reminiscent of halvah, a rich Middle Eastern sesame confection that my father often brought home when he wanted to be bad. Yes, halvah and salami were his go-to treats and there was an ongoing debate as to which version, the traditional or the chocolate dipped halvah, was best. (I was a flip-flopper myself.) The star anise was a last minute addition and I think it gives a nice warming sensation to the cookies.

The sesame cookie dough has a similar texture to peanut butter cookie dough. Though it may seem dry, it is not. That is how it is supposed to be. I adapted this recipe from the blog Elana's Pantry, which is a great resource for gluten-free goodies.

Gluten Free Sesame and Anise Cookies

Makes 24 cookies

2 1/2 cup almond flour

1/4 teaspoon sea salt

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon ground star anise

1/2 cup maple syrup

2/3 cup roasted organic tahini (Sesame seed paste. I used Arrowhead Mills.)

1 tablespoon organic butter (You can also use coconut oil here to make the cookies vegan.)

1 tablespoon vanilla extract

1/2 cup toasted sesame seeds, in a small bowl

In a large mixing bowl combine the almond flour, sea salt, baking soda and star anise. In a smaller bowl mix together the maple syrup, tahini, butter, and vanilla extract. Mix the dry ingredients into the wet and combine thoroughly. Make 1 inch balls with the dough and roll each in the sesame seeds. Place on a parchment lined baking sheet and flatten a bit. Bake at 350 degrees for 10-12 minutes, until the cookies are golden. Cool and enjoy!

Christmas Cheer

2010-12-10T08:29:00.000-08:00

5th grade was my first year in private school and I was excited for the change and eager to see what this new school had to offer. Moving from a class of 35 to one of 12 was quite a change of pace but in the regular Jamie fashion, I soon got a handle on my new surroundings (i.e. first imperative school purchase: a sticker collection to trade with the other “cool” girls in my grade…all three of them). The curriculum was heavily focused on grammar (not that I’ve retained any of that knowledge) and the headmistresses, Mrs. Powell and Mrs. Plunkett, made sure every class took their monthly turn memorizing a poem to recite in front of the school and admiring parents at Friday assemblies. They were quite a pair, those two. Mrs. Powell’s overly-painted cheeks, forehead and nose made her already-angry face look like it might burst into flame, while Mrs. Plunkett, always dressed in an angelic combination of pastels, appeared on the brink of a face plant thanks to the girth of her over-sized ankles (or cankles, more aptly) bearing down on her oppressively small high heels. Roald Dahl himself couldn’t have done better when these two were matched.

Unlike the rest of the kids in my grade, who thought reciting poems was LAME, I was thrilled. Granted, the poems were a bit dry and none of us had any clue what they meant, but as a girl always down for a little time in the spotlight, I didn’t care. Just give me the words and show me the stage! Or concrete playground, as it were. Right before Christmas break we were given "Sea Fever" by John Masefield to study and recite. All I could make out was that this guy really liked sailing, which was enough for me. I was so excited to have a new performance in my repertoire that I asked if I could recite the poem for my relatives at Christmas dinner. All 40 of them! “During dessert would be best,” my aunt graciously said, though I should have sensed the eye roll. My sister and I were always asking to perform for our friends and family. Hey, she should I have been grateful I didn’t want to do our cheerleading routine again. “You're ugly, you're ugly, your mama says you're ugly!” Now that was a show stopper!

When my aunt brought out the large braising pots of sumptuous coq au vin and plates of buttery popovers, I barely looked up from my plate. In fact, I could barely take a bite of my food as I was entirely obsessed with rehearsing my lines over and over in my head. Finally it was time. I stood in front of my obviously-buzzed family members and began to speak. “I must go down to the seas again,” I bellowed in my biggest 10-year old voice. I looked over at my 15-year cousin Lorin to catch him smiling at me. “They love it!” I thought. I breezed through the first stanza and dove into the second with added gusto. As I neared the end I raised my voice louder for added effect. "And the flung spray and the blown spume!" I boomed. As the line came out of my mouth my cousin’s eyes widened and, as if to lead the charge, he burst out laughing. "What did she say?" my grandmother asked. "Blown spume! Jamie said blown spume!" my uncle cackled. Obviously not understanding the joke, I was mortified at the response. I promptly forgot the rest of the poem and ran “offstage” to the nearby bathroom. Granted I should have known my audience, as my family can make a sexual joke out of most anything. But I was in 5th grade, how was I supposed to know what "blown spume" might refer to? It took a good hour and 2 cups of my aunt’s homemade (and alcohol-laced) eggnog to coax me back to the party.

For years, my Uncle told and retold the story at every family gathering. "Remember when Jamie recited that poem about blown spume?” he’d say out of the side of his mischievous mouth. “Where did she get that poem? Just hilarious!!”

“Where did I get that poem?” I often wondered during these intense moments of humiliation. Mrs. Powell and Mrs. Plunkett, that’s where! How could they have done this to me? Were they not aware the havoc this poem might wreak on every child who chose to entertain their families during the holiday season? There were only two possibilities: 1) the hilarity of the line was wholly lost on them, which is entirely likely since neither had much of a sense of humor or 2) they completely understood the possible outcome and assigned the poem on purpose!

Over the last few years (yes, I am a slow forgiver) I’ve released most of my anger for Mrses Powell and Plunkett. They were a crazy, scary pair of headmistresses with a bizarre penchant for classical poetry but hey, it could have been worse. And now I prefer to think that yes, they certainly assigned “Sea Fever” as a twisted joke to be played on our 5^th grade class; a grand trick passed down from headmistress to headmistress to ensure deep childhood scarring. It took me years (too many to admit actually) to understand why my family was laughing at me. I initially thought they had all gone insane. How could the combination of two bizarre words be enough to insight a laugh riot? Thankfully I can now laugh with them at the absurdity of it all and in particular at that little girl who at the top of her unknowing lungs screamed, “…blown spume!!” Looking back now, my only regret from that night has nothing to do with that ridiculous poem: I regret not eating my coq au vin. While everyone was in sheer food ecstasy, I was obsessing over my lines, trying to get them just right. Just perfect. My aunt is a brilliant cook and to have missed her coq au vin was a true travesty. And to make things worse, she hasn’t made it since that fateful Christmas dinner. I’m sure it’s too late to ask for it this year but I’m truly considering putting in a request for 2011. Though if I know her (and my uncle) at all, there might be a caveat. “Only if you recite the blown spume poem again,” I can hear her saying. Honestly, it might be worth it.

Home grown fingerling potatoes from my friend Eddie's garden. It definitely pays to have a friend with a green thumb. I've got to get more of those potatoes...and green thumb friends.

Beef Stew with Roasted Vegetables

The last few years my Aunt Sissy has thrown a soup party for Christmas. Granted the menu doesn't have the same panache as coq au vin, but sometimes a big warming bowl (OK, a few big bowls) of soup around the holiday table is all you really need. Last year I made my roasted kabocha squash and lentil soup, which was a big hit. This year I'm eager to debut my first ever beef stew; a recent recreation of my friend Jacqueline's peasant stew that she made for my birthday a few weeks ago. I've woken up with stew on the brain at least 3 times since having hers, it was that good! As with all things Jacqueline, when I asked her how she made it, she immediately dove into a 30 minute explanation of each nuanced technique she employed to get the deeply rich, unbelievably flavored beef stew. OK, I will admit right now that Jacqueline is a better cook than me. Fine, I've said it. But I will also say I just don't have the time and mental capacity to go the culinary distance that she does. I'm all about good, delicious food that I can hammer out in an hour. (Fine, sometimes two.)

So with all of that, here is my Jacqueline inspired beef stew. Though I did cut a few corners I kept two intact that I think give the dish that added, "Oh my frickin' God this is good," quality. First, roast the root vegetables. Roasting them brings out their innate sweetness which tames the beefiness. Second, use the anchovy! It does not impart a fishy flavor (promise!) but provides umami, the 5th savory flavor also found in bacon and Parmesan cheese, that adds the final touch to make this dish a real show stopper.

Serves 4

5 tablespoons olive oil, divided

2-3 cups fingerling potatoes, scrubbed and cubed

1 turnip, cubed

2 carrots, peeled and cubed

1 pound organic beef stew meat, cut into 1 inch cubes

1 onion, chopped

1/2 a fennel bulb, chopped

4 garlic cloves, minced

1 anchovy fillet

1/4 teaspoon cloves

1 teaspoon fresh thyme

1/2 cup red wine

1/2 cup crushed tomatoes

3 cups organic chicken stock

Sea salt and pepper to taste

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Mix the chopped potatoes, turnip and carrots with 2 tablespoons of olive oil and bit of salt and place in a large roasting pan. Throw them into the oven for about 35 minutes, or until they are nicely golden. Once done, take the vegetables out of the oven, set aside and reduce the oven to 315 degrees.

While the vegetables are roasting, heat 2 tablespoons of olive oil in a heavy stock pot and add the beef. Sprinkle the meat with a bit of salt and pepper and cook until all sides are browned. Remove the meat from the pot and set aside. Drain the excess fat from the pot, place it back on the heat and add the remaining tablespoon of olive oil. Add the onion and fennel and saute until soft, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic, anchovy, cloves and thyme and cook for another few minutes until the anchovy fillet has dissolved. Add the wine to the pot, and bring to a boil, scraping the pot of any brown bits.

Add the crushed tomatoes, beef, roasted vegetables, and the chicken stock to the large pot and mix thoroughly. Cover and bake in the 315 degree oven for 2 hours, until the beef is tender. Remove from the oven, adjust the seasoning and serve with a crisp winter salad. Enjoy!

Spiced Pumpkin and Apple Soup

2010-11-30T13:47:00.000-08:00

“So, what are you going to wear to Thanksgiving?” my sister asked as she sucked in her rounded cheeks to make model faces in the mirror. I glared back at her in annoyance. “I don’t know and honestly, I really don’t care!” Perhaps I shouldn’t have been so pissy but honestly, she had her priorities all wrong. How could she be concerned with what to wear? Who the hell cared? What she should have asked was, “What do you think they will have for dinner?”

Every year we spend Thanksgiving with my Aunt Sissy’s family. As my Uncle Jon’s wife, her clan was a bit removed for our direct blood line which automatically made them far more fun. The Bishops were a family of 5 strikingly tall, square-jawed children and always seemed to be busting at the seams with more uncles, aunts and cousins. Our sit-down Thanksgiving meal was easily 45 people with everyone in attendance. “AAAHHHH, Jamie-girl it’s so good to see you!!,” Mary, my Aunt’s sister and hostess, would scream as we walked in. Mary never talked. In fact, she screamed and laughed through every interaction which was both startling and infectious. Truly, at Thanksgiving we all talked like we were on an airport runway. My sister and I weaved in and out of the throngs of family members saying our hellos and how are yous, all the while sneaking bottles of Martinelli’s apple cider for the kids table. (Thinking about it now, the cider was already for the kids table. What can I say, my scarcity mentality has always been strong).

As the ladies bustled in the kitchen, picking at crispy turkey skin and getting the buffet ready, the rest of the party reconnected over multiple games of pool and a bit too much crab and spinach dip. Though I liked watching my older cousins lovingly scream and yell over missed or made shots, it was always the kitchen that held my attention. Mary’s kitchen was a thing of beauty. Shiny copper pots hung over the 8-burner wolf range which led to a deep white porcelain sink that looked out over Malibu’s coastline. Her two sturdy ovens produced such devastatingly delicious smells that every once in a while an uncle would stumble in and cry, “Is dinner ready yet?” Naturally the Thanksgiving staples were on the menu but as a family of foodies they loved to spice things up. One year there was tortilla soup with chunks of avocado. Another year, Bibb lettuce with pomegranates and champagne vinaigrette. And who could forget the curried sweet potato medallions with maple syrup glaze? For dessert, in addition to the requisite pumpkin pie with homemade whipped cream, there was always at least one pumpkin cheesecake and some sort of chocolate mousse thingy. (I recently asked my sister what she remembers of the dessert table. Her reply: “They never had pecan pie. It’s my favorite. What were they thinking?” So, I guess Thanksgiving attire wasn’t her only concern.) Yes, the Bishops were certainly a big family in size, stature, and, most importantly, in appetite.

When it was time for carving the three 20-pound birds, my father was summoned from his nap on the couch to do the honors. Do not ask me why my Dad, the least sociable, least related guy in the house was the bird carving man. Perhaps it was because he was the only man not glued to the football game or maybe because he was, again, the only man constantly hanging around the bird. Whatever the reason, when Mary wrapped a white apron around my Dad’s protruding belly, it was go time! In my Dad went, without a plan or specific direction, tearing up the birds and placing entire joints on the platter. And as if to sing out, “one for you, one for me”, with every steaming piece put on the platter, another one was thrown directly in my Dad’s mouth. He probably ate a good 3 pounds of turkey just carving it. And thank goodness for that safety net of an apron which caught all the flying juice, meat and skin that fell from his mouth. “Dad, stop eating the bird. There won’t be anything left!” I screamed. Now I knew there was no way my father could eat it all, but I promise you he made a significant dent. “Jamie, don’t tell me what to do! I’ve got it handled,” he sternly replied. “Handled straight into your stomach,” I continued to push. And here we come flying back to my fears of scarcity. But if we are all being honest, the man’s mouth was a Hoover and I was just certain he was minutes away from sucking up each entire turkey, bones and all.

Once the carving was complete and the saved carcasses wrapped in white trash bags as my father’s “soon to be soup” reward, it was turkey time. Kids and adults alike jockeyed for position in the buffet line, ogling the many hot, bubbling dishes that crowded the table. As we settled into our chairs in the large sunken living room watching the California sun set into the ocean, we gave thanks for each other, the amazing food, and for the generous chefs who made it all happen. Sometimes there were announcements of college acceptances, engagements, or babies but mostly we just sat together eating, drinking, and laughing way too loud.

I don’t know anyone who doesn’t like Thanksgiving. Ultimately it’s a holiday centered on food, family, and consuming way too much of both. Not much has changed around my family’s Thanksgiving, though now Aunt Sissy herself, rather than Mary, hosts it and the Bishop children’s children have children. (Did you get that?) My sister still queries every year as to what I’m going to wear for turkey day and just as I did 15 years ago I shoot back, “I have no idea, Laura. I’m just thinking about the food!”

Spiced Pumpkin and Apple Soup

Serves 4

So truth be told I actually didn't spend Thanksgiving with my family this year. After 7 years together I finally conceded to go to Gray's family's house for turkey day...and I was not looking forward to it. Don't get me wrong, Gray's family are lovely people and I definitely wanted to see them. I just didn't want to miss MY family's Thanksgiving. Well as you know, marriage is all about compromise and so it was about time I made an appearance at the in-laws. The festivities were held at Gray's uncle and aunt's beautiful ranch style home in San Diego. Their backyard literally wraps around the entire house and on the left side is an amazing kitchen garden; A garden, in fact, that supplied the large Cinderella pumpkin centerpieces. Well, one look at the huge pumpkin on my table and I had to have it. I couldn't help myself. Gray's aunt graciously said yes and I immediately began laying out all of my cooking options.

Originally I thought to turn half the pumpkin into soup and throw the rest into a winter salad but the flesh was simply too soft to hold up. So, a giant soup it was! The pumpkin was also not as sweet as I had imaged, which is how the apples and honey made their way into the pot. I made this soup the day after Thanksgiving as a thank you to Gray's cousins who housed us for the weekend. When Gray's 6 year old cousin took a bite he said, "Wow, this is yummy. You are a really good cook!" Though I know he genuinely enjoyed the soup by his quickly emptied mug, it may have also been a ploy to get me down there next year. Well, it worked.

4 cups roasted pumpkin**

2 tablespoons of olive oil

1 red onion, chopped

4 cloves garlic, minced

2 gala or fuji apples, peeled and chopped

1 tablespoon butter, optional

2 tsp. cinnamon

½-1 tsp. curry powder

¼ tsp. nutmeg

A dash of chipotle pepper powder (if you are a spice lover, add more)

1 ½ tbs. organic honey

4 cups organic chicken or vegetable stock

Salt and pepper to taste

Tamari roasted sunflower seeds, for garnish

**To roast the pumpkin, preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Chop the pumpkin into large quarters and scoop out the seeds. Peel the pumpkin quarters and cut into 1 ½- 2 inch pieces for roasting. Mix the pumpkin pieces with a bit of olive oil and salt and roast for 30 minutes, until the pieces are softened and a bit brown. Remove from the oven and set aside.

In a large stock pot over low-medium heat, add olive oil and sauté the onions until translucent. Add the pumpkin, garlic, apples, butter, and pinch of salt and cook for another 5 minutes until the apples begin to soften. Add the cinnamon, curry powder, nutmeg, chipotle, and honey and mix thoroughly. Add the chicken stock and bring to a gentle simmer for 5 minutes. Turn off the heat and with a hand immersion blender or in batches with a regular blender, puree the soup. Once puréed, return to the heat and taste for seasoning. Add salt and pepper if needed. Ladle the soup into your favorite mugs and top with tamari sunflower seeds. Enjoy!

Apple Cider Braised Squash with Walnuts and Pomegranate Seeds

2010-11-08T10:59:00.001-08:00

You've gotta love how literal I used to take things. When I was 10 and had my first bowl of Pho in Seattle, I thought Vietnam's Pearl on Rainier Avenue was the only place in the world to get those giant bowls of steaming, spiced noodle soup. I honestly believed Vietnamese cuisine was indigenous to Washington state. How was I to know? There are countless stories from my childhood of me taking things at face value. Fine, I admit it. I wasn't so much of a critical thinker. It also took me 22 years to realize my parents were just winging the entire parental thing. It's therefore not surprising that I used to think the only farmer's market in the world was in Santa Barbara.

My paternal grandmother was the first person to ever take me to a farmer's market. In fact, every time I visited her beach house we got up early on Saturday morning to get the best pickings at the downtown market. She was notoriously more "visual artist" than "cook" and so always filled her huge wicker basket with fresh flowers and orchids for the dining table and fruit for the big bowl that sat in the middle of the kitchen island while I wandered in and out of the stalls looking at avocados, oranges, and freshly baked breads. "This is the best market in the world!", she said while examining a delicate orchid bud. "And this is the best orchid stand, " she sang while giving the stand owner an approving smile.

Everything and everyone in my grandmother's life is "the best". She has the best housekeeper, the best flower vendor, the best orthopedist. "Oh, he's the best in the country!", she praises. "People travel from around the world to see him." Let me add that not only are these particular people the best, they are hers and I often wonder if they agree with her self-entitled ownership rights. Now, whether or not any of the bests are true is completely irrelevant. My grandmother deeply believes that her world consists solely of bests and I, with my painfully literal interpretations, always believed her. I don't think I questioned anything she said until I was about 20. My favorite "best" was why to dress well on an airplane. "Jamie, remember to always dress your best while traveling," she so frequently reminded me. "I've met the best, most gorgeous, most glamorous people while traveling. You never know who you are going to meet!" From what I can gather, this recommendation all stemmed from her chance meeting and subsequent dinner with the Marchioness of Bath. No joke! Of course, with a story like that you might think I'd wear something other than sweatpants and my coke-bottle glasses on the plane. But no. That is serious dedication to comfort, my friends.

So let me admit right now that Santa Barbara is the best farmer's market...in Southern California. It was the first place I ever ate sugar snap peas (and quickly learned you CAN have too much of a good thing) and where my grandmother asked her favorite farmers what they thought was the best of their bounty. I often think about my grandmother's conversations with her farmers when I am talking to my own. That's right, my farmers. Turns out I might have a small ownership problem myself. The farmer's market was our little ritual and I cherished strolling down the aisles with my grandmother in an environment so rich and beautiful to us both. We recently went back and, just like old times, she headed for her orchid lady and I quickly OD'd on sugar snap peas. It was a great morning and ended just like so many outings with my grandmother had. "Jamie," she said, hold my chin in her tanned yet aged hand. "Honey, you need a facial. I'm taking you to see my girl immediately. She is the best!"

Apple Cider Braised Squash with Walnuts and Pomegranate Seeds

This is a recipe I made last week at the San Francisco Farmer's Market Food Wise booth. Every Tuesday they have guest chefs make a seasonal dish for the public to taste. I had one gentleman come up to me and exclaim, "This is absolutely perfect!" I was on cloud 9 for the rest of the day. Squash cooked in cider is a lovely combination of starchy and sweet while the nuts and pomegranates give it a great fatty and sour crunch. Think of this as a potential replacement for the traditional marshmallow topped sweet potatoes. Enjoy!

Serves 4-6

Ingredients

2 kabocha squash (about 2 pounds) or other firm winter squash such as acorn or butternut
3 tablespoons unsalted butter or ghee
1 garlic clove, minced
1 inch piece freshly grated ginger or 1 teaspoon powdered ginger
1 1/2 cups fresh unfiltered apple cider or juice
1 cup water
2 teaspoons brown rice or apple cider vinegar
1 teaspoon salt
Freshly ground black pepper
¼ cup fresh cilantro, chopped
Walnuts or almonds, toasted and chopped
2 tablespoons pomegranate seeds

If using kabocha squash, cut off the stem and split lengthwise. Peel it with a vegetable peeler and scrape out the seeds with a spoon. Cut each piece lengthwise in half again, then crosswise into 1/2-inch -thick slices. If using an acorn squash use the same method however you do not have to peel it.

Melt the butter in a large (12-inch) skillet over low heat. Add garlic and ginger and cook, stirring about 3 to 5 minutes. Do not brown the garlic.

Add the squash to the skillet, then the apple cider, water, vinegar, and salt. Cook, stirring occasionally, over medium heat at an even boil until the cider has boiled down to a glaze and the squash is tender, 20 to 30 minutes. Taste and season with pepper, and additional salt if needed. Top with fresh cilantro, toasted nuts, and pomegranate seeds and serve.

Soy Marinated Rock Cod

2010-11-01T09:19:00.001-07:00

The restaurant smelled a little funky, a mix between the much-needed-to-be-cleaned lobster and crab tanks to the left and Buster's BBQ on my right. It was less of a restaurant to be honest, and more of a 10 seater bar in the middle of an incandescently lit food court, the same "court", you will recall, that my family regularly patronized for frozen yogurt. But this time the trip had nothing to do with dessert. We we were on a sushi mission. I was 7 years old at the time and only knew two things sushi: one was that my Dad loved it and two, that it was special...very special. With my limited knowledge of what lay before me we strolled up to the bar with its two sticks as eating utensils and laminated menus with pictures of brightly colored slabs of fish. As you can imagine my child self was justifiably concerned. I should mention there was a third thing that made this event special, the only thing in fact that kept me from grabbing frozen yogurt for lunch and heading to the car. This outing was just me and my Dad. Such an occurrence had never happened before and looking back I have no idea where my mother and sister were. I now imagine my mother lecturing my father for his lack of one-on-one time with me and him acquiescing with one line, " OK, I'll take her to sushi."

So there we sat at the sushi bar next to a couple that was deeply engaged in their glazed eel. It looked kind of like chicken which helped calm me a bit. "Is this your first time eating sushi?" said the woman, taking a quick swig of sake. I nodded. "You are in for a treat!" My Dad took care of the ordering and I have to give him credit: he started us off with a soft shell crab roll. Simply put, if you want to get a kid to eat something, throw it in a deep fryer! He quickly handed me an inside piece of the roll, fearing I'd be too scared to eat a piece with a large crab leg hanging from it. Though I was unfamiliar with what lay before me I tried to mentally break it down into things I understood. I recognized white rice. Check. The white flaky stuff in the middle kind of looked like the baked fish my mom made. That's cool. I was a bit baffled by the seaweed but that wasn't enough to keep me from cramming the entire piece swiftly into my small child-sized mouth. Imagine stuffed chipmunk cheeks and that was me, trying to keep bits of rice and crab from flying out of my mouth. My first thought was, "I don't think I did this right" which was quickly followed by, "Aw, this is freakin' good!"

First I was hit by the sweet, slightly sour sticky rice then by the crispy fried crab and last by the creamy mayo that brought the entire bite together. Heaven! My eyes rolled back into my head with pure food ecstasy and I soon heard my Dad say with a smirk, "So I guess you like it, huh?" YES, more please! After that first bite I was all in and tasted everything my Dad put in from of me. California roll, eel roll, yellowtail and salmon all made the list. I even tried the salmon eggs and octopus, neither of which I liked but hey, I tried it. The chef was so impressed with the little white girl eating sushi that he gave me a green tea ice cream, on the house. "Good eater!" he praised. "Don't I know it!", my father replied. From that day forward sushi was my favorite food. I loved its clean and fresh taste, how the food was pristinely presented and delivered in bite-sized pieces, and most of all, that it was something my Dad and I could agree upon.

As I got older sushi became my go-to date option. I mean come on, what better way to a free sushi dinner?! It was also helpful in screening potential suitors. If they weren't down for sushi, I was not interested. In retrospect, I wonder what those boys must have thought when I suggested sushi as our first date. Presumptuous, expensive tastes, culinarily-adventurous princess? All I know is that I never got any complains. In fact, I first fell in love over sushi. I had been dating this guy for a month or two and things were going well. I wasn't that into him but he was older and drove a convertible so those improved his score. One night he invited me over for dinner. We had only ever gone out to eat and I kept replaying horror stories from girlfriends about cooking dates gone awry. "Please dear Lord don't let it be Refrigerator Surprise Meat Casserole," I prayed. Much to my delight I walked into his house to find him julienning carrots, cucumbers and fresh ahi tuna. "I like to make sushi at least once a week," he said, staring directly at me. Was this man looking straight into my soul? How did he know my deepest food desires? Well, that was it. I loved him. I had too!! When he ripped my heart out 6 months later I was devastated. "I love you, but I'm not in love with you," was the only answer I received. It took me an entire year to get over him, partly because every time I passed a sushi restaurant I burst into tears.

The revelation came, as many good ones do, in my therapist's office. We were recounting againmy feelings of loss and pain over my lack of a sushi-eating boyfriend when she said, "Is it possible that you don't miss your boyfriend at all but rather are mourning the loss of the attention and connection you never got from your father?" Oh my goodness, thank you Ms. Freud!!! Yes, I had just realized that the only time I'd ever felt connected to my Dad was over sushi and that my ex-boyfriend had become, dare I say it?, the perfect Dad substitute. The realization was simultaneously fantastic and horrific. Fantastic because I was immediately free of any emotions associated with my ex-boyfriend and horrific because I now had to work on my relationship with my father. OY!

Thanks to a heavy stint in therapy and way too much hippie soul searching, things with my Dad are good now. OK, not good, but definitely better. We can talk about work or music and can walk away from an argument without screaming or slamming doors. Most importantly, we no longer need a piece of raw fish to bring us together. Though, it never hurts.

Soy Marinated Rock Cod

Sushi, though delicious, take a decent amount of time to prep. This is my current favorite "de-constructed" sushi inspired dish that comes together in no time. OK, so it's not really sushi since the fish is cooked but it certainly does have similar flavors. Serve it along side rice and toasted nori to make your own open-faced sushi rolls. YUM!

Serves 2-3

3 pieces rock cod or other white fish, about 1 pound total
2-3 tablespoons tamari or shoyu (natural soy sauce)
1 teaspoon balsamic vinegar
2 tablespoons brown rice vinegar
1 tablespoon honey or brown rice syrup
1 clove garlic, minced
1/2 inch ginger, freshly grated

1/4 cup cilantro, chopped

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Remove the fish from its packaging and dry it with paper towels. Please in an shallow baking dish and set aside.

In a small bowl add the tamari, balsamic vinegar, brown rice vinegar, and honey and whisk together. Add in the minced garlic and grated ginger and combine. Add the marinade to the fish in the baking dish and let sit in the refrigerator for 15 minutes.

Remove the fish from the fridge and place it in the oven and bake for 15-20 minutes, until the fish is white and flaky. Top with fresh cilantro and serve with a green salad, rice and toasted nori. Enjoy!

Chicken Tagine with Lemon and Olives

2010-09-29T21:07:00.000-07:00

"Your parents always made the BEST food!" my aunt said while weaving in and out of traffic on our way to Pearl, our favorite Vietnamese place. I was up for my annual Seattle visit and we were engaged in a "Family Secrets" talk. These talks happened every so often, most commonly over two bowls of steamy pho and fresh spring rolls, and comprised of never before told stories about my parents, grandparents and, occasionally, great-grandparents. "When your parents had their apartment in Santa Monica, they experimented with all kinds of food and everything was amazing. Wonder why they don't do that anymore?" I had briefly heard about these cooking adventures in passing from my mother and imagined my parents as lovely hosts who cooked, drank red wine out of bowl-sized glasses and showed off their culinary skills with Fleetwood Mac on the record player. Skills, might I add, that I never saw. Of course I saw my mother cook, but nothing like she or my aunt ever described.

It was the mid-seventies and my parents lived in a beautiful "Spanish style" apartment building in Santa Monica that my grandmother conveniently owned. Being quit handy, my father became the building manager and soon had the run of the place. With a lovely courtyard and fire pit perfect for impromptu jam sessions and a teeny-weeny kitchen that allowed you to smack your face on the fridge when turning away from stove, it was ideal for the newly married couple. And it was in this little apartment that my parents made braised veal with lemon, capers and stuffed white fish. Where they invited my aunt over to partake in hand-rolled pasta that my mother had literally hung from the rafters because there was no table space. They held monstrous brunches and served quiche, bagels, fruit salad, and my Dad's famous fish eggs. (This is the only dish I've ever seen my father make. Take sauteed onions, mix with your eggs and throw into a hot, oiled pan. Toss in any vegetable you have in the fridge. Then, add kippers, herring or smoked trout and serve to your mortified children. Viola, fish eggs!) In her hippy glory, my mother loving made strudel by hand, laying the long dough out over her too-short table. By the time she was done, the sheets hung over the table edge, kissing the floor.

I felt like a reporter getting the goods on breaking news every time I heard one of these food stories. The characters were my parents, Debra and Steven in name and body, but somehow I didn't recognize them; these characters were the youthful, care-free counterparts, Debbie and Steve, to my now busy, children-laden parents. It was a side of my mom and dad I'd never seen before and I desperately wanted to know. Who were these people that made pasta from scratch or spent an entire Sunday cooking for friends? With every morsel of information I felt more connected to these young, exciting newlyweds, as if they were my friends and these memories were sourced from my own seat at the dinner table. There is one night in particular I could swear I was there. It was the evening my parents ventured into Middle Eastern cuisine. I think I was born with olives and lemons in my blood because there is no other flavor profile I adore more. On this particular night, young Debbie and Steve made chicken tagine with quince and almonds and homemade baklava. The sweet, astringent flavor of quince and delicate texture of long-cooked chicken filled my mouth and trickled down my throat as I imagined the dish in my mind. The table oohed and ahhed as my mother served her slightly intoxicated guests their generous helpings. A bit of sauce spilled on the floor and their kitten Rocky quickly pounced to lick it up. Even the kitty was smiling. Like a director I watched from behind the camera and took in all the smiles, laughs, smells and tastes. They may have not seen me but I certainly saw them and reveled in their unabashed delights. Hours of patiently maneuvering delicate phyllo dough and sticky honey made the baklava all the more delectable. It's thin layered, buttery sweet crunch left a party in the mouth only the tagine might have hoped to rival. And there it was. The party I knew I attend though it was held years before my birth.

Amazingly, I only heard about this particular meal a few times but there was something about the time, the place and the menu that stuck with me. Envisioning my parents as two youngsters creating a fun-filled home allowed me to break out of our parent/child relationship and relate to them under the umbrella of what we all jointly loved...food.

Though not my mother's original recipe, I recently served this dish for my brother's 21st birthday to my own table of ohhs and ahhs. It really is a crowd pleaser and not very difficult to make. All you need are some foodie friends and you are good to go.

Chicken Tagine with Lemon and Olives

Adapted from Cover and Bake by Cook's Illustrated Magazine

Serves 4

1 teaspoon ground ginger

1 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin

1 teaspoon ground coriander

2 teaspoons sweet paprika

salt and ground black pepper

3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

1 3-4 pound organic chicken, skinned and cut into respective parts with the wings reserved for another use. (You can also do this with 8 skinless thighs or breasts)

1 large onion, halved and sliced thin

2 tablespoons of water

4 garlic cloves, minced

2 bay leaves

1 3/4 cups water

1/2 cup organic un-sulfured apricots, chopped

1 (2 inch) strip of lemon peel or 1/2 a preserved lemon, minced

3 tablespoons lemon juice

1/2 cup kalamata olives, pitted and halved

2 tablespoons parsley, chopped

Adjust the oven rack to the lower-middle position and pre-heat to 300 degrees. Combine the ginger, cumin, coriander, paprika, 1 teaspoon of salt, 1/4 teaspoon black pepper, and 2 tablespoons of olive oil in a large bowl. Dry the chicken pieces thoroughly with paper towels and add to the bowl with the spiced and toss to coat. Heat the remaining tablespoon of oil in a large oven-proof Dutch oven over medium heat. Add 3 of the chicken parts, skinned side down, and cook without moving them until lightly browned, about 4 minutes. Flip the chicken over and continue to cook until the second side is golden, about 4 minutes longer. Transfer to a plate. Add the remaining chicken parts to the pot and repeat, then transfer them to the plate and set aside.

Add the onion and 2 tablespoons of water to the pt with the drippings and return to medium-high heat. Cook, scraping the browned bits off the bottom of the pot, until the onion has softened and begins to brown, 5-6 minutes. Add the garlic and cook until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Add the bay leaves, water, apricots, lemon peel, and browned chicken with any accumulated juices; bring to a simmer. Cover, transfer to the oven, and cook until the chicken is easily pierced with a knife, about 1 1/4 hours.

Transfer the chicken to a serving platter and cover to keep warm. Add the lemon juice and olives to the sauce. Bring to a simmer and let the juice reduce by half. Add salt and pepper to taste then add the chicken back to the pot, and sprinkle with parsley. Enjoy!

End of Summer Salad Party

2010-09-14T18:17:00.000-07:00

I have a theory. Simply stated, most people don't truly dislike as many foods as they think they do. I pose it's more a matter of preparation than actual hatred of that specific food. Granted there are definitely a few foods on my "rather not eat" list (sea urchin, any type of aspic and egg salad are a few that come to mind) however, I can honestly say that I have tried them all at the height of their preparation and come to my conclusion legitimately. Consequently, I'm always shocked when I run into an adult that says, "I don't like vegetables." What do you mean you don't like vegetables?!? Do you even know how many types of vegetables there are? It's impossible for you to dislike them all! The truth is, most of these poor people suffered through childhoods filled with canned, boiled or microwaved vegetables. It's no wonder they now won't touch the stuff with a 10-foot pole! If that was my only knowledge of vegetables, I wouldn't either. In 9^th grade I practically lived at my best friend's house, a sprawling multi-level place where kids ran free and parents escaped to the opposite side of the house. Her parents were lovely people but not what I would call culinarily inclined. To give you an example, twice a week they microwaved broccoli and served it with spray butter. Now, I have always been a broccoli lover but even I couldn't get myself to stomach this zapped, rubbery "vegetable". (They also cooked their morning eggs and bacon in the microwave. OY!) In retrospect, I still don't know why I didn't just eat before going over there. I'm pained deeply when I hear stories of gray asparagus and carrots boiled to mush not only because it brings back microwave memories but because it makes me wonder how we could be made to put such yucky stuff into our mouths year in and year out. I should say kudos to parents for trying. I truly appreciate you wanting to get vegetables into your children but I'm sure we could have found a more delicious way.

When I met my husband, he too had a laundry list of things he didn't eat, including kale and asparagus, my two all time faves. The first time I said I wanted to make him a kale dish he stared back at me, horrified, and said, "Are you sure that's safe? I used to feed it to my Iguana Spud. I don't think it's for human consumption!" And so goes the life of kale, relegated as garnish or lizard food. As a girl who likes a challenge, I made it my mission to make him fall in love with everything that he refused to eat. Once I had won him over with my braised kale (he was surprised not only by its deliciousness but by the fact that he didn't die!), I moved on the asparagus. When spring came, I found the most beautiful tender asparagus and roasted them with salt, pepper, and olive oil. Let me just say, he mowed through those asparagus so fast I only snagged two spears for myself. Since conquering Gray's taste buds (he eats anything I put in front of him now and just last night requested more dark leafy greens. I adore this man!), I now work on friends and family. Yes, I love hosting dinner parties for the sheer joy of feeding friends but my devious side also enjoys sneaking foods into the menu previously deemed inedible.

Enter the summer salad party. First, I wanted to make dishes that reflected the bounty of summer before it left us. I also wanted to show the men folk that YES you can have salad for dinner and be quite full and satisfied. Lastly, we have this friend, who shall remain nameless, who does not like beans or potatoes. Again I ask you, what the WHAT??? How is this possible? Beans and potatoes are the easiest foods to like because you can do anything with them. Mashed, fried, baked, broiled, they taste amazing every which way. But no, she doesn't like them in any form. We've decided she is a communist! So, of course, I couldn't contain myself and made a bean salad which I promptly insisted she try the second she walked in. She filled her plate with the other salads and took just a smidgen of beans. Whatever, as long as she tried them. About an hour into dinner I notice my friend get up for seconds. Now as a health coach I'm in a complete moral dilemma with seconds. I encourage people to try and stick to one plate, especially if they are no longer hungry, but the cook in me takes seconds as the most supreme form of praise and wants people to load up. Anyway, I noticed that when my friend sat back down, plate fully reloaded, she had indulged in a lovely scoop of beans. YES! Mission accomplished.

And while I'm sure that our friend will probably continue to voice her objection to beans, I now have proof that with the right preparation, she is open to bending the rules. Now it's time to move on to potatoes :)

End of Summer Salads

Here is the menu I put together for the party:

Green salad with orange, avocado, and tamari roasted pumpkin seeds
Grilled chicken breast and fresh green bean salad

Farro salad with fresh corn and roasted red onions
Bean salad with sun-dried tomatoes and Dijon vinaigrette

Farro salad with fresh corn and roasted red onions

Serves 4

4 cups water

1 cup farro, soaked overnight

1 teaspoon salt

4 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil, divided

3 large torpedo onions, sliced into 1/2 inch strips (Regular red onions will work well too)

1 teaspoon organic butter or ghee

2 cup organic fresh corn, cut off the cob

1/4 cup fresh Italian parsley, chopped

Salt and pepper taste

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Place the strips of onion on a 8 1/2 x 11 pyrex baking dish. Drizzle with 2 tablespoons of olive oil, salt and pepper and roast in the oven for about 40 minutes, stirring once half way through, until the onions are soft and a little crispy at the ends.

Place the water, farro, and salt in a large stock pot and bring to a boil. Reduce to a simmer and cook for 18-20 minutes, or until the farro is tender but still toothy. Drain excess water and set aside.

In a heavy skillet, heat the organic butter and sauté the corn until just tender, about 4 minutes. Place the cooked corn, farro, and onions into a large bowl and season with the remaining olive oil, salt and pepper. Mix thoroughly. Stir in the parsley and enjoy!

Bean salad with sun-dried tomatoes and Dijon vinaigrette

Serves 4-5

1 can kidney beans, drained and rinsed

1 can pinto beans, drained and rinsed

1 can red beans or cannellini beans, drained and rinsed

3 stalks of celery, cut into 1/4 inch pieces

1 small red onion, cut in half and thinly sliced

1/2 cup sun-dried tomatoes, chopped (If they are oil packed, simply chop them. If they are dried, reconstitute them in boiling water for a few minutes then chop.)

1 handful arugula

1/4 cup fresh parsley, chopped

A pinch of smoked sea salt

For the Dijon dressing

1 garlic clove, minced

1/4 teaspoon dried oregano

1/4 teaspoon dried thyme

1 teaspoon Dijon mustard

3 tablespoons red wine vinegar

1/4 cup plus 1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil

Salt and pepper to taste

In a heavy bottomed skillet at the beans and heat through. **You can also quickly blanch them at this point if you prefer. Place them in a large bowl and add the celery, onions, tomatoes, arugula, parsley, and smoked salt.

In a small bowl, whisk together the garlic, dried herbs, Dijon mustard, and vinegar. Slowly drizzle in the olive oil. Continue to whisk until the dressing comes together. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Drizzle the dressing over the beans, toss well, and serve immediately. Yum!

The Candy Club

2010-09-09T17:06:00.000-07:00

I had been waiting for my sister Laura to come home for the last hour. We attended separate schools and I always made better time on my royal blue 10-speed than she did on the rickety yellow school bus that brought her home. (My sister had been admitted to a school for gifted children the year before. A school, I might add, that denied me 3 years in a row. This was certainly a gaping wound on my part and one that my sister often enjoyed dousing with salt.) I sat on the front porch playing with the roly polies and trailing the lines between the big red bricks that made up our stairs with my finger. Finally, she turned the corner and walked up our driveway. I yelled from the porch, "Hey you wanna go to the little store?" My sister and I asked each other this question at least four times a week. The little store was just that: a ram-shackled little building about three blocks from our house that resembled an "old-tyme" general store with an ethnic twist. The back of the store was stocked with frozen vegetables and meats, and right next to the pig trotters, popsicles. (I only ever grabbed a popsicle when in dire need.) The left side of the store was stocked with beer and liquor while for us children, the right side was dedicated entirely to candy. The old man behind the counter always recognized us but rarely offered a smile. I'm sure he thought we were just biding our time before pick-pocketing our favorite items. Which was true. I had dreamed of hijacking the place and escaping with every last bit of candy on the shelves. However, this sugar fueled fantasy was nothing compared to the sweet devotion of my sister Laura, aka, "the candy queen".

Of course all children love sweets, but Laura took it to a entirely new level. While my mother craved green vegetables and salads when pregnant with me, she inhaled every candy, cake and chocolate bar in Ventura County while Laura was in the womb. My sister was literally made out of sugar. And so our respective preferences were shaped. I ate vegetables constantly and Laura hoarded candy in her room. Many times we didn't even know the stash was there until a conspicuous trail of ants blew her cover. About a decade later she was outed by my cousin's dog who found a hidden donut in my sister's overnight bag. I thought she was going to KILL that dog! Every Halloween we laid out our "bag of crap", as my father lovingly called it, to swap Abbazabbas for Snickers bars and haggle over the price of Red Hots. My sister owned her sweet tooth and quickly decided that everything should taste like candy. Like when my parents attempted to get her to stop sucking her middle and index fingers by saying, "Laura, your fingers are dirty and they must taste terrible!" "Nope," she smirked. "They taste like chocolate!"

So these were the two little devils that entered the little store. Two candy junkies looking for a fix whose mother had no idea what they poured down their throats four times a week. Laura immediately went for the chewy, fruity stuff like Starbursts, Now and Laters, and Skittles, while I stuck to the Red Hots, Fireballs, Skor bars (AMAZING!) and Lemon Heads. Our choices certainly revealed our personalities: one child sweet and bizarrely malleable, and the other, a rare combo of a sour and spicy. We walked back home in a sugar haze, almost blinded by the effects of sucrose coursing through our veins. Once home we promptly got into a fight and usually had to be separated. (See what happens when you have too much Yellow #5? I remember reading labels even back then and thinking, "Eating something with a number on it can't be good for me.")

As the years went by we became experimental, like when our babysitter Jessica Woodcock (P.S. I just recently realized the hilarity of her last name) showed us how to soften a jolly rancher stick in the microwave and wrap it around a blow pop to make the largest lollipop ever! We'd throw our multi-colored sucker monstrosities into the freezer for a quick cooling then eat them over the next few hours until our mother got home. Unfortunately, the ginormous lollipop factory shut down only after a few months when Laura turned the microwave on high and cooked the jolly rancher until it liquefied and almost caught fire.

I don't know when we stopped going to the little store. We got older, our tastes changed, and eventually our family moved from the neighborhood. Of course, now in my chosen profession as a whole foods crusader, it's shocking to think I was ever such a sugar fiend. Who knew it would come to this! Thank goodness Laura still keeps the little store flame alive by keeping mini snickers bars in her purse and hard candies in the car. My younger sister has never forgotten her roots, and holds on to them as tightly as I now grasp my kale. Ah, the candy queen lives on! She says it's her duty to make up for all the candy I'm not eating.

Well, I guess someone's got to do it.

Balsamic and Butter Glazed Frittata
Served 4

Adapted from Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone

For those of you expecting a "healthy" candy recipe, I'm sorry to disappoint. I'm actually working on a relatively healthy toffee recipe which I will post as soon as it's ready. Promise! In the meantime, when you need something sweet, try this frittata. Eggs, you say? Absolutely. The caramelized red onions give it a nice smoky sweetness and the reduced buttery balsamic glaze just puts it over the top. SO GOOD!

2 large red onions, peeled and thinly sliced
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar, Bariani is the best
Salt to taste
1/8 teaspoon ground cloves
6 eggs
2 tablespoons chopped parsley
1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon organic butter or ghee
¼ cup walnuts, toasted and chopped

Warm the olive oil in a 10 inch skillet and add the sliced onions. Cook over medium heat until they are golden, about 30 minutes. Add half the vinegar, let it reduce, and add in the cloves and a touch of salt. Preheat the broiler.

In a large bowl whisk the eggs. Season with salt and add in the onions and parsley. Melt 1 tablespoon of butter in the skillet (you do not need to clean it out from the onions) until it is sizzling. Add the eggs and lower the heat. Scatter the walnuts on top and cook until the eggs are set and browned on the bottom, about 8-10 minutes. Slide the pan 6 inches under the broiler to finish cooking the top, about 2 minutes. Take care not to burn the walnuts.

Loosen the frittata and tilt it onto a serving plate. Return the skillet to the stove and raise the heat. Add the remaining teaspoon of butter and when it melts, add the remaining vinegar. Slide the pan back and forth to combine the two then pour the mixture over the eggs. Enjoy!

Figs, figs, a wonderful fruit

2010-09-02T15:39:00.000-07:00

I adore figs. Green, black, brown, Turkish, I don't care! Just give me sweet, seedy, jammy figs and I am a happy girl. Today I don't eat many foods from my childhood, but figs for some reason have always possessed staying power. I grew up in a small craftsman-style house built in the early 1900's. It was a sweet little home with two beds and built-in cabinets, perfect for a young couple, which is exactly what my parents were when I came into the picture. Our backyard was not huge but it did have a few good fruits to bare, one of which was an enormous Haas avocado tree that dropped fruit the size of my head. Rich, thick and creamy, we ate them every chance we could, usually as guacamole, though sometimes I caught my mom sticking tablespoonfuls directly into her mouth. There was also a tangerine tree, a peach tree, a Meyer lemon tree and wild mint that we mashed with sugar and hot water to make "mint tea" (though in reality it was more like warm simple syrup with mint essence. Ah kids!)

My favorite however was the fig tree. Placed right next to our rickety (and definitely dangerous) swing set, it was in a prime location for me to swing over and grab an unsuspecting fig any time I wanted. I waited all year for that tree to bloom and when it did, I went crazy! I averaged a good 12 figs a day. At first I went for the ones at eye level, but as the summer progressed and those thinned out, I needed help getting my fig fix. I begged my Dad to come help me grab the luscious ripe ones that stared down at me from their high perch. "I'll get you my pretty!" I thought as I glared back at them. But one sunny Summer afternoon, I found myself in the middle of a major fig meltdown with no one to help me. I needed a fig bad and I simply couldn't wait for parental assistance, so I bravely decided to climb the tree. This was an emergency after all! It wouldn't have been so bad had there not been copious amounts of sap and ants lining the tree. I'd hated ants ever since my 6th birthday when I accidentally swallowed one that decided to take a nap on the lip of my 7-UP can. EEEEWWWW!!!

The ants had multiple trails going up and down the trunk and on every branch of the precious fig tree. Apparently, they too were all about figs. As I climbed the tree I kept thinking, "No ants in my mouth, just not in my mouth!" I gingerly picked as many figs as my left hand could hold as my right tightly gripped a sturdy-looking branch. However, the tricky part was not the climb or even picking the fruit, but getting down with two handfuls of sticky, split figs. I awkwardly descended, trying not to cause any accidents among the many ant highways. But wherever my hands touched the tree, eager ants assumed they were other branches and immediately hopped on. They seemed to have no problem with detours. With hands full of melty figs and arms covered with ants, I simply couldn't take it any more. I took a deep breath, said a quick prayer, and jumped. The ground was not as springy or soft as I'd imagined, and I hit the grass with a decided thud. Granted, I'd jumped down maybe 2 1/2 feet but it seems pretty dangerous at the time. I actually managed to save most of the figs though some were greatly damage by my now tightly closed fist. I rolled onto my back and looked up at the fig tree. "That's right fig tree," I yelled. "Who's the boss now?!" I rested my head on the grass and popped a glistening fig into my mouth. It somehow tasted sweeter than it ever had before. Perhaps it was my brush with death, or the simple fact it had had more time to ripen. Either way that fig was amazing and it felt good to have risked life and limb for it. I was a food hero! And there I stayed, spread out on the grass, feeling wonderful about myself and barely feeling the ants navigating their way up and down my arms.

Best ways to eat figs

1) Throw them on the grill until the jammy center begins to caramelize
2) Stuff with a small piece of goat cheese and fresh thyme
3) Stuff with a thin piece of prosciutto, and top with mint and drizzle with a bit of balsamic vinegar
4) Split them open and smear with almond butter
5) Thinly slice and lay them over an arugula and basil salad with shaved Parmesan
6) Slice and put on a pizza with goat cheese, shaved fennel, and caramelized onions
7) Place them directly in your mouth a chew (My favorite!)

Grilled corn and tomato salad

2010-09-01T08:52:00.000-07:00

"Just pick it up and eat it!", she said in an exasperated tone. I stared down at the glistening corn cob. Laurie was already half way through hers, chomping down so hard that with every bite she shot out a bit of yellow corn juice. I just sat there looking back and forth from the buttered cob to her. I wanted to be her as much as I wanted to eat the corn off that cob, but I knew neither was truly possible. Laurie was my idol, a goddess among awkward 12 year olds. Honestly, this girl never had an awkward faze. Though only 11 months older she had been blessed early with long legs, beautiful black hair, and a pert little All-American nose house on a lovely heart shaped face. With my uncontrollable Jew-fro and Streisand-inspired nose I knew I could never look like her. That left my only other hope...to eat like her.

Unfortunately what stood between me and my desire to be Laurie's corn companion was a mouth full of metal. That's right! I was a serious brace face, a gift from my orthodontist Dr. Saint (yes, his real name) that was to last three very un-cool years. I was only in year one and still fearful that the wrong food might blow the braces right off my teeth. Dr. Saint had sternly advised again gum, candy, and definitely corn on the cob. I couldn't go against my orthodontist. He was a Saint for goodness sake! "Nothing is going to happen to your teeth," Laurie said, as if listening in on my mental anguish. "It's physically impossible for your face to explode from one bite of corn," she said in between buttered lip smacking. "She's right," I thought. "Stop being a wuss and don't let Dr. Saint run your life. Just do it!" And with that I opened my mouth, bared my shiny imprisoned teeth and crunched down.

Now, what I should have done was stop at the first bite. However, I hadn't crunched on anything in months so once I started, I was not about to look back. Bite after bite I filled my mouth with the intense, sweetly rich flavor of fresh corn. I didn't come up for air until all that was left was a thoroughly abused cob. I looked up at Laurie who had put down her own cob to watch me inhale mine. "Oh my god, Jamie!" she laughed. "You've got more corn in your teeth than actually went down your throat!" I knew it was true before she even said it. My teeth felt oddly heavy and tight, being weighted down by a good 2 cups of stuck corn. I raced to the bathroom to rinse my mouth and get some relief. Water didn't do anything. The kernels just smiled back at me as if to say, "Best of luck gettin' us out. We aren't moving!" Tooth brush, toothpicks, floss; I hammered at my teeth with all sorts of oral hygiene accessories but nothing worked. I picked corn out of my teeth for the next three days, always thinking I was done until another hidden kernel appeared. It took 4 years before I ate corn again and only after my braces were long gone.

OK, let's tell the truth. I still don't eat corn on the cob and haven't since wrapping my metal mouth around that fateful corn cob so long ago. With a sharp knife I now cut off all the sweet kernel goodness and ladle each bite in with a spoon. So painless and easy! My husband calls me a wuss but I really don't care. I'm still scarred from the lodged corn conundrum 18 years ago. Granted, I no longer have braces but corn in the teeth is still a valid concern. Of course, all of these old emotions are coming up because I've been surrounded by corn for the last two months. I know people eat corn morning, noon, and night when it's at the market but honestly, this is the first year I've EVER had corn at my dinner table. Why, you ask? Because I still harbor resentment (how Jewish AND motherly of me!) towards corn and haven't felt like inviting it into my kitchen, that's why!

However, that all changed a few weeks ago during a dinner party. I decided on a theme of summer salads and headed off to the market for some much needed inspiration. I loaded up my bag with crisp green beans, gorgeous orange and red cherry tomatoes, and a giant head of red leaf lettuce that I scored for $1. I initially ignored the giant wooden bins piled high to corn until I heard an elderly man, elbow deep in the bin, exclaim, "This is the best corn I've had in years!" Well, I may hold a grudge but if I can get my hands on the "best" of any type of food, all bets are off. I quickly grabbed a few good-looking ears, threw money at the cashier, and headed off home wondering what I had done.

I decide to make a roasted corn and cherry tomato salad with fresh basil. An easy representation of summer's bounty with a clincher that the corn could be off the cob. Let me just say this, the gentleman was not lying! The corn was smoky, sweet, and juicy with a just touch of crunch. Perfection! The salad was by far the most popular at the party and the only one with ZERO leftovers. (DARN!) Since then I've made a few variations, one with a cup of kidney beans, the other with a bit of farro, but always the same foundation of fresh corn, tomatoes, and basil.

It is safe to say that yes, my struggle with corn has finally been laid to rest. And the best part is, we both won in the end.

Grilled corn and tomato salad
Serves 4

Grilling the corn is not necessary though it adds a lovely flavor. If you don't want to heat up the grill, simply sauté the corn in olive oil with a bit of onion then add it to the tomatoes and dress accordingly. If adding beans or grain, add a few more tablespoons of dressing.

2 ears of corn, grilled and shucked
1 1/2 cups cherry tomatoes, washed and halved
3 scallions, washed and chopped
1/4 cup fresh basil leaves, torn into bite size pieces
2 1/2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1-2 tablespoons white wine vinegar (you can also use lemon juice or balsamic for a sweeter taste)
salt and pepper to taste

Grill the corn until tender and segments have a nice dark char, about 8-10 minutes. Remove from the grill and once cooled, cut the tip off one end and stand the cob up in a bowl. With a sharp knife cut downward, removing the corn from the cob.

In a separate bowl add the tomatoes, scallions, and basil. Toss in the warm corn and dress with olive oil, vinegar, salt and pepper to taste. Enjoy!

Whole Lotta Yogurt Love

2010-08-04T15:03:00.000-07:00

Every time I hear Led Zeppelin's "Whole Lotta Love" I think of frozen yogurt. An odd pairing I know, but growing up in a house filled with both food and music, bizarre combinations were bound to occur. My father was a musician, a die-hard 60's rocker whose claim to fame was as bassist and singer for a Vegas lounge act called The Sister's Love. Though forced to attend law school by his unsatisfied parents, he never let go of his musical passion. Throughout my childhood (and even now), our house bled classic rock, complete with my father's weekly rants on how this music, his music, was influential beyond comparison. The Who, The Doors and Led Zepplin screeched and howled from our record player at a constantly-growing pitch and soon I had a thing for every long-haired boy in my 2nd grade class. Classic rock was the glue that bound my father and me together. Though the pair of us often used our short-sparking tempers to fight most days, we could always re-connect over a dose of Eric Clapton. It actually took me years to enjoy Neal Young after my father deemed his whiny, high-pitched voice "unlistenable".

For a good decade of my childhood, my family went down to the Oxnard docks several nights a week to enjoy post-dinner frozen yogurt. In a brightly-lit and grungy food mall, with sushi on one end (the site of my first raw fish experience) and Buster's Ribs at the other, stood our family shrine: the frozen yogurt mecca we frequented far too often to ever tell anyone. With my father leading the pack, we ran to the yogurt machines, mouths agape, tongues wagging, to fill our Styrofoam cups. That's right, it was a shop that charged by weight! It was a great competition to see who could pack the most yogurt into their unfortunately small-sized cups, and with at least six flavors to choose from, all our containers ended up as bizarre amalgamations of lopsided peanut butter, pistachio and chocolate swirled hill. At least those were my top choices. My sister often dove into the fruit flavors, finishing hers with vanilla dollops. My father was allowed to get a medium-sized cup, a perk of being the "grown-up", which easily fit almost every flavor. I say almost because he usually dropped a bit of each flavor into his cup to taste before committing to an entire swirl (not that he hadn't already tasted them all before). A genius move I thought, though Mom called it "stealing". The second best part of these excursions was the music. No matter what day or time we went, there was always a seemingly stoned, Classic rock-blaring teenager manning the cash register. Occasionally a bit of Bob Marley crept in, but more often than not I served myself to Robert Plant and his crew. It seemed appropriate at the time. I certainly did have a whole lotta love for that frozen yogurt and with my Dad's everyday uniform of a tie-dyed Grateful Dead t-shirt, it seemed apropos. The songs spoke of love, longing and sexual desire...emotions, at least the first two, I felt deeply when eying my cup of sweet creamy goodness.

Frozen yogurt was, for many years, the joy of my life. When I broke my arm as a kid, I requested Campbell's chicken noodle soup and frozen yogurt as my recovery meal. But honestly, it was a healing force for us all. No matter what happened in our respective days, when we piled into the car, destination yogurt, our troubles melted away. Worried about money? Let's go for yogurt. Kids driving you crazy? Yogurt time. Michael Shuman has a crush on Michele Lenear (how could he do that to me!)? Give me frozen yogurt!!! The cold sweetness and repetitive dipping and licking motions cooled our overheated systems and quickly promised our brains, with a sugar-induced serotonin surge, that everything was going to be okay. Eventually our habits changed, and we released frozen yogurt to embrace Healthy Choice's Low Fat Cappuccino Chocolate Chunk, a green and white colored carton (colors obviously chosen to evoke health) that consistently appeared in my family freezer up until my mid-twenties.

Two weeks after my 22nd birthday (and right after my last traditional Thanksgiving splurge), I gave up dairy. Cold turkey! Letting go of butter, cream cheese, milk and sour cream was easy. Almost too easy. But it was the frozen dessert delicacies that cut deep. Ice cream had brought my family together and kept us from tearing each other apart. With my renunciation of "all things yummy" as my sister put it, I divorced myself from the only activity that gave us collective joy. Never again was there something we all shared in the same way. 2002 was the year it all changed, the year I broke from the family ritual to embark on my holistic eating journey that was set to rip me apart and make me whole again. And though frozen yogurt never made it onto the scene again, there were to be many nights of cooking brown rice with my classic rock companions.

Homemade yogurt
Makes 1/2 gallon

Four years later, dairy reappeared in my life in one of the most beautiful locations. The Greek isle of Santorini! We were on our honeymoon and I decided to let loose and eat whatever I wanted, which included a few tablespoons of homemade yogurt drowning in local honey. I can't even begin to tell you how good it tasted. Rich and thick with a hint of tang, oh goodness, I though I had died and gone to heaven. The best part about it was my body liked it! No gurgling, no gas, no bloating, nothing. It took me another two years to muster the strength and make my own, but it was worth the wait.

(**Look for the bowl of yogurt to the right)

Here is an easy recipe for homemade yogurt. I have a yogurt maker but if you don't want to buy one, here is a quick guide to explain what you need.

1/2 gallon organic whole milk (I use Strauss)
1/2 cup organic whole yogurt (again, Strauss)

Place the milk in a large pot and turn the heat to medium. Place a clip-on thermometer on the side of the pot to keep tabs on the heat. Once the milk has reached 180 degrees, turn the heat off and allow the milk to cool to 105-110 degrees. (This can be done quickly if the pot is placed in an ice bath.)

In the meantime, place lukewarm water to the line indicated on the inside of your yogurt maker. Add the organic yogurt to the yogurt container and set aside. (The container that comes with the maker is plastic, which I don't love. I bought a large glass jar to use instead that works beautifully.) Once the milk has cooled, pour a few cups of milk into the yogurt container, making sure to stir well as you go. Add the remaining milk and stir thoroughly. Put the lid of the yogurt container, place the container in the yogurt maker, and leave it alone for at least 8 hours.

Now, the longer you let the yogurt sit the more tangy it will become. I like mine very tangy so I let it sit for almost 24 hours. However, 24 hours is the longest you want your yogurt to sit.

Once the yogurt is done, place it in the fridge overnight to set. Serve and enjoy!

**If you want to make Greek yogurt, before you put the yogurt into the fridge to chill, line a colander or fine mesh strainer with tightly woven cheese cloth or a clean dish towel. Spoon the yogurt on the towel and use the loose ends of the towel to cover the yogurt. Let the yogurt drain for about 3 hours or until it has reached the desire consistency. Once done, scoop the yogurt back into the original container and put it in the fridge to chill. What is left in the bowl is whey, which can be used to ferment vegetables, soak grain, or to add to soup. Don't throw it out :)

Such a Mama's girl

2010-07-29T15:11:00.000-07:00

There I sat on the lip of the tub, watching while she looked at herself. Her eyes flicked up and down, stopping at certain body parts that caught her eye. "You know," she said, without pulling her eyes from her reflection, "When I was younger, I made up a rule about my thighs: if they touched, I knew I had put on some weight. If they didn't, I was OK." I looked at her with adoration, thinking that if this perfect woman thought she was so flawed, I had no chance in the world.

My mother was the kind of woman who wouldn't enter the kitchen without her "face" on. Though a bit of a hippie earth mama (she did, after all, make all my baby food from scratch), she never quite got into the whole "natural" thing. "I just always liked to shower and smell good too much," she explained. In fact, she's still angry that my Dad didn't wash his hair the morning of their wedding. My mother actually smelled like a shower. A clean, moist shower with delicate floral notes. Every morning I found her in the kitchen wearing her decidedly short silky kimono robe while floating from one counter to the next making us breakfast and packing lunches. Though I never offered to help, I watched her intently. She toasted sourdough bread with butter or poured bowls of Kix cereal on most weekday mornings and whisked together cornmeal pancakes on the weekends. I mimicked her movements in my mind as she packed carrots into little baggies, cut PB&J sandwiches into adept triangles with the crust left ON, and wrote loving inscriptions on the crackled brown paper bags. "I love you :) Have a great day! Love, Mom".

She was born a mother. The type of girl who dreamed of being a mommy before knowing how one becomes a mommy. I, on the other hand, had no desire for motherhood and nearly broke my mother's heart the day I told her so. As a child, she played incessantly with dolls, brushing their hair and putting them to sleep. She even claimed her next door neighbor as "her baby", though Michelle was only 2 years younger (kids aren't really interested in the math). My mother waited very impatiently for me, 32 years to be exact, and never missed an opportunity to regale me (and anyone else who would listen) with the tale of how she discovered her pregnancy. She was sitting in a large rocking chair in the room she hoped would one day be a nursery. All of a sudden she felt a shock go through her body. It was as if someone had taken her by the shoulders and screamed, "You are pregnant...and it's a girl!!" Of course my parents had been trying for a baby (I always avoid imagining this part of the story), however she had yet to experience any signs of pregnancy. Just this weird premonition. Off she went to the doctor's office to find that yes, she was indeed pregnant, and yes it was a girl. "I always knew who you were," she'd glow.

This "knowing" kept me aggressively bonded to my mother. I always kept a close eye on her, attempting to emulate her delicate, womanly mannerisms, her deft mascara application while driving, or how she braided challah on Friday nights. So when she scrutinized herself in the mirror, weighed herself every morning, or worried about a few extra pounds, I did the same.

Amidst all of her food love (she was a big advocate of ooohing and aahing during meals), she struggled with her eating. Though no one ever knew my mother to be overweight (not even voluptuous, she was always slender and fit), her "chubby", acne prone pre-teen years had left a devastating gash in her self esteem. Her struggle was less about poundage, but rather the fear of poundage and the unending mental berating that saddled up next to her eating adoration. Diets came in spurts. There were the months of weighing food on a little scale she kept in the cupboard, then the fat-free fiasco when the house swarmed with various Entenmann's cakes and ice cream. "It's healthy," she promised. "See, all fat free!" What the hell did I care? All I knew was that it tasted good and had enough sugar to power a small car. Then came the year she really committed to "losing a few pounds". She decided on "The Cabbage Soup Diet", a recent craze suggested by a neighbor. For two weeks I came home to what smelled like an elderly Eastern European couple's home. The sulfurous cabbage smell permeated the entire house...even my pillowcase smelled like bubbie's sweater. Let's also get one thing straight: this was not a soup. This was cabbage and tomatoes boiled in water. No flavor, no fat, no fun. And that is exactly what my mother became. No fun!

This diet, like the many others, thankfully came and went. What ceased to disappear was my increasing anxiety over my mother's inability to be happy with her body and my own growing desire to be thin. To be the thin like my mother wanted to be, whatever that looked like. We were so much alike, my mother and I, that I often thought of us as the same person. I picked up her joys, her silliness, her coping mechanisms to different types of stress. When my mother openly worried about her figure, I took the cue and worried about mine. And yet, she too was influenced by her own mother's relationship with eating. My maternal grandmother loved crazy diets. Things like drinking water and vinegar while standing on your head. And the more gimmicky, the better! And knowing all this, it's no wonder my mother thought the cabbage soup diet was a good idea.

Children, especially girls, are like sponges soaking up each and every nuanced action or event in their surroundings. My mother's actions certainly influenced my perceptions of self in the world but she was not the only one. It takes a village to raise a child and mine was full of villagers with very odd food and body relationships.

My Mother's Challah

This is the bread my mother still makes almost every Friday night. It is moist, doughy, and has just a touch of sweetness. Pure heaven!

The recipe is adapted for use with a bread maker. If kneading the dough by hand, follow these instructions. Start with "Mixing the Yeast Slurry" and stop at "Shaping and Proofing the Dough".

1 packet or 1 tablespoon yeast
1/3 cup organic maple syrup (warmed)
2 cups plus 1 cup organic white flour
2 cups organic whole wheat flour
2 teaspoon Salt
2 eggs plus one egg
1/2 cup organic butter
1 cup warm water
sesame and poppy seeds

Set your bread-maker for manual mode:

Place the yeast and the warmed syrup in the bottom of the bread-maker loaf container. Add 2 cups of both the white and whole wheat flour, the salt, 2 eggs, butter and warm water. Start the bread machine. Slowly add the extra cup of flour to the mixture a little at a time, making sure that the dough doesn’t look too stiff. It should form into a ball that moves easily when being mixed. If the dough sticks to the side of the container, add a little more flour. If the dough forms a nice ball when being mixed before all the flour is added, don’t add the remaining flour.

With the machine on manual, let the dough mix and then rise. This should take approximately 2 hours. Once the dough has risen, remove the dough and place it on a lightly oiled surface. Cut the dough into half. Take the two halves and separate into 3 balls of dough each. Roll each ball into a long tube about 10 inches long. Take 3 pieces and braid, making two loaves. Place the 2 loaves on an oiled baking sheet and cover with a cloth.

Let the bread rise for another half hour then remove the cloth. Beat the remaining egg and brush it over the challahs. Sprinkle with poppy seeds, sesame seeds or a combination of the two.

Bake the loaves in a 325 degree oven for 25 minutes or until golden brown. Enjoy!

Tahini's take on Tuna Fish

2010-07-15T12:05:00.001-07:00

High school was tough for me, as it was for most people I assume. Within these bizarre four years I was completely inundated with unhelpful hormones that attacked my brain, making me at once a giggling, drooling horn-ball AND a Type A overachiever freak. Let's not even mention the everyday societal pressures of trying to be smart, pretty, and cool all at the same time. With all this swirling around in my 16 year old head, high school wore me out.

I went to a very competitive private high school in the San Fernando Valley. My graduating class had 35 people making it cozy and definitely a place where everyone (including all the mothers) knew your business. I'd never been one for unnecessary conflict, so I tended to hang out with the boys in my grade to avoid girl drama. Even though I wasn't into the ladies daily emotional blood bath, I certainly created my own internal carnage by vowing to be both valedictorian and the hottest, thinnest girl in school. (Neither of which happened.) It all happened innocently enough. A month before starting my junior year I decided to lose 5 pounds. That's it, just 5 little pounds. However, being born with a nature heavily dosed with obsessive tendencies, I took it a little too far.

By January of that school year, everything started to fall apart. I was class president, prom committee chair, cast in the school play, and I felt like I was in a padded cell. In four months I shaved 25 pounds off my 5'3" frame, putting me at 99 pounds. I had this bizarre notion that if I could control my weight I could control everything. My grades, the college I got into, the boy I liked, everything. When people said I looked skinny, I took it as a complement. When the boy I loved picked me up and said I weighed "nothing", I could have died from sheer joy. Every day was a battle against my body and the gnawing hunger inside my belly. Instead of giving into the hunger I turn it into a game. I decided hunger pains meant I was doing well, on the right track and that all my sacrificing would pay off. My diet did not ever waiver. Grain in the morning, fruit (ie sugar) before lunch, and only protein and vegetables for dinner. For almost a year I ate:

Morning: 1/2 cup of oatmeal with 4 chopped walnuts
Mid morning snack: 1 small apple or orange
Lunch: romaine lettuce with 1 can of tuna fish and fat free Asian dressing
Mid Afternoon snack: 1/2 cup cottage cheese
Dinner: steamed broccoli with turkey marinara sauce

I sat in the breezeway at lunch watching my friends and teachers eat. I put on a happy face and cracked jokes, but every few seconds I'd sneak a glance at the forbidden morsels they all put into their mouths. "How could they eat that?", I thought. "Don't they know subway sandwiches and rice crispy treats will kill you!" The worst though was when Jacqueline sat with us. Entire rooms quieted when she walked in. With her long thin legs, blond hair, and unbelievable rack, everyone including teachers, couldn't help but watch her. I stared at her like I stared at food, with desire and hate. Jacqueline's favorite lunch was a veggie sandwich. This leggy vegetarian had the balls to sit in front of me with cheese, avocado, sprouts, and hummus squeezed between two pieces of, dare I even say it, BREAD. These were foods on my "DANGER, WILL MAKE YOU FAT!" list (minus the sprouts) and she ate them without gaining an ounce. To make matters worse, she took each bite with painstaking slowness. First she looked lovingly at her sandwich then finally took a long slow bite, making sure to gently push back in any renegade avocado. Then came the chewing! She chewed each bite somewhere around 30 times, making sure to let out a little squeal of joy at every 5th chew. I dreamt of eating like her. It baffled me how someone could take so much joy in their food without remorse or guilt. I on the other hand, ate a quickly as possible, with the thought that if I did it fast it was like it never happened.

My actual anorexia only lasted a year. Pretty short as those things go. It finally ended when my mom sat me down and confessed she hadn't slept in months over my weight loss. I found a great therapist (after my first one told me to drink Ensure!) and began to unravel the pain and suffering I had created. Let's be honest, I still occasionally struggle with negative self talk, comparing, and jealousy. Old patterns die hard but I now have the perspective and tools to quickly get me out of that downward spiral. Life certainly is a delicate balance between holding tight and letting go. Of knowing that every experience, though sometimes painful, is a gift. It is my past experience that allows me to support and guide my clients the way that I do. My new thoughts also remind me how good it feels to be emotionally free and love my food for the nourishment it provides. I'll take that any day!

Tahini Tuna Fish in Lettuce Wraps
Serve 1

After eating canned tuna fish every day for an entire year, I was tunaed out! In fact it took me 8 years to come back around. I'm not a mayo fan so this is a delicious Mediterranean take on the mayo-based classic. Feel free to toss in a few kalamata olives or capers. So good!

1/4 cup tahini
2 teaspoons lemon juice
1 garlic cloved, finely minced
1/2 - 1 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons warm water
1 tablespoon freshly chopped parsley
1 can line caught tuna or boneless skinless sardines
4 large red lettuce leaves, washed and dried

In a small bowl mix together the tahini, lemon juice, garlic, salt and warm water. If the sauce is too thick for your liking, at a little bit more water. Mix in the fresh parsley. In a separate bowl add the tuna or sardines. Break up the fish with the back of your fork. Begin to add in the tahini sauce, 1 tablespoon at a time until you've reached your desired consistency. Tear the lettuce leaves in half. Drop a few tablespoons of the tuna-tahini mixture into a lettuce leaf half, roll it up and enjoy!

**If you want to be particularly decadent, top each lettuce wrap with shaved carrots, avocado, and tamari pumpkin seeds. So good!

Lemon Barley and Mushroom Pilaf VIDEO!!

2010-07-13T12:24:00.000-07:00

Wellness for Life with Jamie Dougherty (Episode 2) from calico on Vimeo.

Hello All. I wanted to pass along my latest Wellness for Life cooking class recipe. I have to admit, this recipe is amazing! The combination of meaty mushrooms with the chewy barley and tinge of lemon is to DIE FOR. I had 20 people in the audience and made 40 servings, to be safe. Well, was there anything left over for me to take to my hungry husband? NO! He will just have to come to my class next time to get any dinner ;) This dish is a definite crowd pleaser and perfect for meat-eaters and vegetarians alike. It also serves up beautifully cold, so feel free to take it to your next BBQ or picnic. Eat well, enjoy the video, and pass it along!

Lemon Barley and Mushroom Pilaf
Serves 4

1 cup pearled barley, rinsed and soaked overnight
2 1/2 cups chicken or vegetable stock OR water
2 garlic cloves, minced
2 teaspoons extra virgin olive oil
1/2 teaspoon fresh thyme
2 cups fresh mushrooms, sliced (Trumpets are my favorite)
2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice
1 tablespoons fresh parsley
Freshly grated Parmesan cheese
1/4 cup toasted almonds, chopped
Sea salt to taste

In a medium pot, bring broth or water to a boil and add the soaked barley and a pinch of salt. Reduce to a simmer and cook for 18-20 minutes, or until the barley is tender. (Cook for 40 minutes if the barley is not soaked.) Drain in a colander and place in a ceramic or glass bowl.

Heat the olive oil in a medium sauté pan. Add the garlic and cook until fragrant, about 2 minutes. Add the fresh thyme, mushrooms, a bit of salt, and sauté until the mushrooms are soft and have a nice golden brown color to them. Squeeze in the lemon juice, mix thoroughly, and add to the barley. Sprinkle with parsley, Parmesan, and almonds and enjoy!

Baked Vegetables- Greek Style

2010-07-06T18:08:00.001-07:00

For all my love of Rome, and promises to move there, the food is actually not my favorite of the Mediterranean cuisines. WHAT!, you gasp. It's true. Though I am a fan of their artichokes, pizza napoletana, and prosciutto, most of the cuisine is too heavy for me. I'm also not interested in pasta or risotto, which is a cardinal sin in Italy. I actually once read an article where an Italian chef stated that he refused to serve anyone who did not eat pasta (save those with a doctor's note). I know what you are thinking. "OH, she doesn't eat that stuff because it's unhealthy". Not true. I simply don't enjoy the texture of pasta and am not a lover of creamy things (i.e. risotto). I think both pasta and risotto, when made with fresh ingredients, can certainly be enjoyed in moderation.

Anyway the point, let it be revealed, is that my favorite Mediterranean cuisine is Greek. So my plan is to live in Italy and vacation in Greece. Sound good? Greek food is simple. Very simple. In fact that's the only condemning word I've heard against it. However, that's the beauty of the food, just like its islands. Clean, fresh, and perfect for enjoying the sun. I've eaten my way all around Greece but the dish that introduced me to Greek food is still one of my favorites.

It was 4 years ago, and Gray and I had just arrived in Athens for our honeymoon. We landed at 10 am so instead of sleeping, which is what I really wanted to do, Gray dragged me around the ancient ruins of the city. We got back around 6 pm and promptly asked the concierge where to eat. Just FYI, when asking a concierge for a recommendation, always ask him or her where they eat. You don't want any tourist trap restaurants. Our concierge recommended a lovely locals restaurant a few blocks away and off we went down the steep streets of Kolonaki to our first Greek culinary adventure. We arrived at about 7 pm to a completely empty restaurant. I would have walked out had it not been for a gigantic, tanned, cigar smoking man who begged us to take a seat. Before we even had a chance to open our menus he said, through a thick smile and yellow teeth, "Do you eat meat?" "I don't. But he does," I said, pointing a quick thumb at my new husband. I was just waiting for the waiter to say, "No meat! That's ok, I'll bring a lamb", a la My Big Fat Greek Wedding. Instead he replied, "A ha! I know exactly what to bring. No menus for you!" With that, he snatched our menus and tromped back to the kitchen. What he brought out was better than I could have imagined!

First of all, I could smell our food before it hit the table. With his giant hands, he placed two plates in front of us. Gray received a side of pork, glistening in unctuous juices with peeled and boiled potatoes. Before me lay a gorgeous pile of Romano beans, slow cooked in fresh tomatoes, oregano and a hearty Greek-dose of olive oil. Gray and I looked at our plates, then at each other, and immediately dove in. The beans were perfectly cooked, soft but not mushy. While the sweet acidity of the tomatoes balanced perfectly against the rich, silky oil. We both cleaned our plates, sopping up any remaining juices with crusty bread. When the waiter returned, he appeared quite startled at how we, two relatively small tourists, polished off the food. "You liked it, huh? You should come back!" We never did but I often think of my dish, and that man with his excited, loving smile, and eagerness to feed an American non-meat eater. That was my first taste of Greek food and hospitality. What can I say, it is mine kind of country!

Briam Fournou- Baked Vegetables
This is an adaptation of my Romano bean dish. Because I couldn't find Romanos, I used zucchini, potatoes, and bell pepper. Eggplant and green beans would also go beautifully. Experiment with different veggies and see which you prefer. Enjoy!

Serves 6-8

2 pounds potatoes
2 pounds zucchini
3 onions
2 green bell peppers
1 28 oz AND 1 14.5 oz can of fire roasted crushed tomatoes (I use Muir Glen)
1 bunch of parsley, washed and chopped
1 tablespoon dried oregano
3/4 cup olive oil
salt and pepper to taste
Feta cheese (optional)

Clean and wash the potatoes, zucchini, onions, and bell peppers. Slice them into 1/4-1/2 inch pieces and place in a large baking dish. Mix in the tomatoes, parsley, oregano, salt, pepper, and olive oil. Stir until well combined and place in the oven for 1 1/2- 2 hours. Check at 45 minutes to stir. If necessary, add a little bit of water at this point. When the vegetables are done, remove from the oven and sprinkle with feta cheese. Serve and enjoy!

Ice Cream and the Freshman 15

2010-06-21T15:20:00.000-07:00

"I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream!" This was the Greenwood family chant every time we needed a cold hit of creamy goodness. Even mom, the health nut, would play along and down we'd go to grab a half gallon of our favorite low-fat flavor, Cappuccino Chocolate Chunk. That flavor was like crack to my family, I swear. We didn't even pull out bowls; we'd just hover around the carton taking turns digging out huge spoonfuls. Ice cream was always a staple in my life, basically one of the main food groups actually if you take into account how many chocolate and butterscotch chip ice cream balls I ate on my 8th birthday (I had banned birthday cakes years earlier).

However insane our ice cream ritual may sound, it only happened a few times a month. It wasn't until I went to college that I decided to take my ice cream devotion to the next level. I arrived at Lewis and Clark college, a wide-eyed freshman looking for a good education and great-looking boys (I believe honesty is the best policy). The education certainly was fantastic with the statistic of 12 students to every professor; however, the "boy" situation left much to be desired. Firstly, out of 3,500 students over 2,000 were female. I knew this stat before I enrolled but it didn't quite hit home until I saw it with my own eyes. Every one of my classes brimmed over with girls and then, if you looked hard enough, you could see a few boys peppered among the ladies. And these boys were prized possessions, let me tell you. Whether cute or not (and most of them were NOT), to get a man at Lewis and Clark was quite a feat. Boys I would have never even acknowledged in high school soon became attractive...very attractive.

So after getting over my initial shock of NO MEN, I decided to channel my collegiate sexual angst into more productive avenues. I took an African drumming class, joined the school dance troupe and began eating an inhuman amount of ice cream. I ate it in the morning, I ate it in the evening, I ate it twice a day without batting an eye. I easily justified my copious consumption with the fact that I also ate salad twice a day. "They totally cancel each other out," I surmised.

The Lewis and Clark cafeteria, ironically named "The Bone", always had a well-stocked ice cream bar. Now, I'm not talking about lame Souplantation all-you-can eat soft serve. It was more like being behind the case at a Baskin Robbins. Legend has it the long-time wish of a wealthy alumni was to always have ice cream available to the sugar-bereft student body and that his ample donations could go to nothing else. TAKE THAT, Women's Studies department! I honestly praised that man every time I wrapped my lips around a scoop of Maple Walnut sunk deep in a sugar cone.

Then came Thanksgiving.

I hadn't been home in almost 3 months and was excited to see my family. My grandmother soon arrived and made her usual grand entrance. "Jamie, darling, come here," she cooed. I kissed her lovingly on the cheek and then stepped back for her to greet my other siblings. As she brushed passed me to enter the kitchen, I felt a little tap-tap on my tush. "Someone's put on a little weight, haven't they?" I could have died at that very moment. Yes, I had been eating ice cream like a child at a church social, yes I had poured myself into my "skinny" jeans, and YES I had substituted food for the lovin' I was supposed to get as a new collegiate. But these facts didn't make her remark hurt any less. I walked into the kitchen, the emotional wind having been knocked out of me, and looked at my grandmother. She was completely oblivious of what she had said. Completely unaware of the impact of her words. I ate very little dinner that night and excused myself early to go to bed. I went back to school the next week and, upon arrival, said goodbye to the ice cream bar. I said goodbye to my beloved Maple Walnut, the only lover I had ever known. I never again indulged in the ice cream of Lewis and Clark and instead, begrudging, turned my sites to another lover...the gym.

Sweet Potato Fries
I know you were hoping for an ice cream recipe, but alas, I don't have one. Rather, this is a recipe that will help knock out those pesky sugar cravings. These fries are a great snack or accompaniment to any summer BBQ. And of course, you can have organic ice cream for dessert. (I found you a few good recipes here and here!)

2 large Japanese sweet potatoes, washed
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
sea salt to taste
1/2 teaspoon turmeric or curry powder (optional)

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Cut the potatoes into 1/4-1/2 inch thick strips, similar to steak fries. Place the potatoes in a large bowl and mix with olive oil, salt, and the optional spices. Lay the potatoes in a cookie sheet, making sure they do not touch each other. Bake for 25 minutes, stir once, and then bake for another 15-20 minutes. Fries should be golden brown and crispy. Enjoy!

Tasty Travels: First stop, Italy

2010-06-08T15:35:00.000-07:00

I'm moving to Rome. That's it. Done! Goodbye house, friends, family. It's been swell, but I gotta go. This is how it plays out in my dreams anyway. Having been back from our Mediterranean vacation for 2 weeks now, reality has finally set in that I will not wake up in the Eternal City any time soon. We cruised to Sicily, Naples, Athen, Rhodes, Santorini, Mykonos, and Kusadasi and though they all offered amazing sights, sounds and culinary delights, Rome felt like home. Upon arrival I quickly picked up a few lovely words that seemed to fall out of my mouth every few minutes. If Gray stopped to look at a building or peer into a book shop I yelled, "Andiamo (Let's go)!!" Alternatively, if I saw any type of food store (which was about every 500 feet) I'd scream, "Andiamo", and dash inside to peruse the wares. I also had a sweet little habit of saying "Ciao" at every passing scooter. Just FYI, almost everyone rides a scooter in Rome. Gray claimed my Italian verbosity was annoying (granted) but it made me feel like a friendly local. Ciao, Ciao, Ciao!

Our first morning in Rome I peeled open my jet-lagged eyes to the smell of freshly baking bread. I would soon find out it was not just any old bread, it was croissants. Hot, buttery croissants that arrived at our breakfast table in a shamefully overflowing basket every morning. Now I try not to eat bread very often (it puts me straight to sleep) but that first smell on that first day set the tone for the entire trip. Bread, Miss? YES PLEASE, and lots of it. When in Rome, right? We walked all over the city, stopping only to walk inside one of the million churches or grab a snack. My favorite stop however was the open air market at the Campo Di Fiori. This is the market in Rome and after walking down the first isle I was in tears for lack of a kitchen. The produce was absolutely gorgeous and I loved seeing all the Romans in their everyday shopping rituals. I walked around each stand, pretending I was there to pick up ingredients for my upcoming dinner. At one point I was actually asked for directions by an Italian, which created enough tingle in my toes that I completely forgot my burning desire to cook.

Almost all of the goods were recognizable, except one. While sweating over which olive oil to buy, I noticed an elderly woman and an equally elderly vendor vehemently haggling over the price of apples. Of course, I couldn't understand anything the woman was saying but her eyes, flailing arms and intonation said it all. After 5 minutes of back and forth the vendor abruptly changed course and convinced the woman that apples weren't the way to go at all. He quickly reached down and from behind the register produced a basket of mini strawberries. She stopped cold, grabbed at them immediately, paid full price, and scurried away. I walked behind the man to get a better look at the oddly recognizable fruit. They were definitely strawberries, just tiny. I wasn't sure how to get my hands on them, besides following the old woman's example of screaming at him in Italian. (Andiamo! Grazie! Ciao!) He seemed to be guarding the little red jewels for dear life, which of course made me want them more. I thought for a split second about miming the universal sign for "I want your berries", but upon reflection and envisioned embarrassment, I sadly moved along down the market. We soon went to lunch at a restaurant just off the Campo that had outdoor seating outside the front door. We were basically seated in the middle of the street, with waiters dodging scooters to serve us our cloud-like gnocchi. Man, I love Italy! For some reason I decided to look at the dessert menu first. Three lines down in the middle of page I read, "Fragoline di Bosco- Little Strawberries." Bravo!

So, where am I going with this story? I can't really tell you. All I can say is that in Italy, just ask, and you shall receive. It is a beautiful, historic, luscious city that is filled with delicious foods, gorgeous sights, and gracious people waiting to share the love of their city. Go as fast as you can!

Spring Pea and Pulse Salad
Serve 4

I found this recipe in a beautiful Italian cookbook off Piazza Barberini. The recipe caught my eye immediately and I memorized it so as to give it a Jamie Living twist at home. The marjoram really makes the dish so do not leave it out. I also made two other revisions adding roasted potatoes and braised baby artichokes respectively. Both were to die for. Experiment and enjoy!

1 cup English shelling peas, shelled
4 scallions, chopped
2 handfuls arugula, washed
1 tablespoon fresh marjoram, chopped
1 tablespoon fresh sage, chopped
2 1/2 cups Ayecote Morado beans, cooked and patted dry (you can also use kidney or cannellini beans)
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 cup sugar snap peas, ends trimmed
Sea salt
Extra virgin olive oil and balsamic vinegar (my fav is Bariani as you know)

In a sauce pan, boil 3 cups of water with a liberal dose of salt. Add the shelled peas and cook until tender, about 3 minutes. Remove from the heat, drain, and set aside.

In a medium sized bowl, add the chopped scallions, arugula, and fresh herbs. Set aside.

In a large saute pan add 2 tablespoons of olive oil and heat at medium. Add the cooked beans and allow them to crisp up (if the beans are not dried properly they will not crisp). After 5 minutes add the sugar snap peas and cook until the peas are just browned, about 2 minutes. Add a pinch of salt, stir well, and add the mixture to the arugula and scallions. Toss in the blanched shelled peas and drizzle with olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Season with salt and pepper and serve!

Love of a Lisp plus a Strawberry Crisp

2010-05-03T15:44:00.000-07:00

Her name was Karissa Casserman and I loved her. Seriously. She was the most perfect 2nd grader in our class and I wanted to be just like her. Reflecting on this now, such a feat was truly impossible. Karissa's long thick toe-head hair shot straight down her back like a white waterfall. Every single hair was in place. The girl had never had a frizz a day in her life. Her eyes were crystal blue, a type of blue only found in the coloring box. To top off her unbelievable cuteness she had a brilliant speech impediment that turned her "r's" into "w's". "Hi, I'm Kawissa Caswwerman". Everyone ate it up. Parents, teachers, the school staff. They ate that crap up like kids at a dessert buffet. And so did I. Little 8-year old Jamie knew this verbal affect was nothing but a ploy, a ginormous trick "Kawissa" used to get her way. But I didn't care. I fell for it like all the other schmucks. Every time I heard, "Hey Jamie, do you wanna come ouvuew to my house?", I was in heaven. It's important to understand that throughout my childhood until my mid 20's I attached myself to girls I idolized. Women I wanted to be. Prettier, thinner, more feminine (though NEVER funnier) friends that I simultaneously adored and hated; a constant reminder I had to always strive for a unachievable and quite narrowly defined type of beauty.

Karissa's perfection was topped off by the sandy location of her house. In the land of my birth, the strawberry capital of the world otherwise know as Oxnard California, there were two types of people. The happy, lucky, beautiful people who lived at the beach and the rest of us inland lame-os. I loved visiting Karissa for though her house was only 15 minutes from mine, if felt like a world away. A lovely, sun soaked community where bronzed blond mothers watched their equally tanned children frolic in the waves and served Lucky Charms cereal for lunch and sour apple Jolly Ranchers as a snack. Alright, fine, that's not completely accurate. Karissa's mother never actually served us Lucky Charms, but when she gave us the run of the kitchen every weekend, that's certainly what we pulled out. Karissa would grab two huge white ceramic bowls from the wooded cabinet. Out came the non-fat milk (a staple in my house as well) and the loudly colored box of Lucky Charms. You know what I'm talking about. That magnificently colored cereal box which is housed exactly at eye level in ever grocery store. I was a Trix girl myself (loved that rabbit!) but I wasn't about to complain. If Lucky Charms was the cereal of this particular beach goddess, I was all in. "Kawissa" was in charge of both cereal and milk pouring, a job she took with painstaking precision. During the pouring procedure I tapped my foot nervously, praying to the soggy cereal gods that she wouldn't add too much milk. She always did! The second she stopped pouring, I'd dive into my cereal in an attempt to inhale each marshmallow before they formed their bizarre slimy coating. Karissa picked at her bowl like a lady, choosing each nugget to create the perfect spoonful of cereal to marshmallow ratio. If a golden strand of hair strayed during consumption, she gently lowered her utensil and smoothed back the hair, then flipped the lower half of the strand to land perfectly on her upper shoulder. There was no flipping or repositioning my hair during eating. Hell, my head looked like it had been through the tumble cycle by the time I finished my bowl. Think Tasmanian devil meets Fran Dresher's The Nanny hairdo. I was certainly a sight next to that shining angel of femininity!

My summers with Karissa didn't last long. There was only one actually. By the time we hit 3rd grade my curly Jew-fro and bionator (a cousin of the head gear) were simply too much for any popular blond bombshell to handle in a friend. And so the invites ceased as did our sugar shocked luncheons. By 4th grade Karissa had moved to a different school and I was on to another girl to admire and admonish myself for not being more like. However, I never forgot "Kawissa" (obviously!). I wonder where she is, what she's doing, and more importantly, what she looks like. Maybe she is sitting some where, right now, enjoying a bowl of Lucky Charms and pushing her non-existent fly-aways back into place.

Strawberry Crisp
Serves 6

As an homage to Oxnard, CA my hometown and strawberry capital of the world (if you don't believe me, look it up) I bring you a delicious strawberry crisp. I've also been eating this for breakfast the last few days so I thought it appropriate. Feel free to throw in other fruit with the strawberries if you like. Plums and apples work particularly well.

4-5 baskets organic strawberries, washed and thinly sliced
2 heaping tablespoons kudzu root (a natural thickening agent, like cornstarch)
1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons water
1 teaspoon fresh lavender (optional)
1 cup whole rolled oats
1 cup shredded coconut
1 cup sunflower seeds, shelled
1/2 cup cashew pieces
1 cup walnuts, chopped
1/4 cup pecans, chopped
1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
1/2 cup brown rice syrup
1/4 over-flowing cup maple syrup
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
3 tablespoons organic butter or coconut oil

Preheat the oven to 350. Place the sliced strawberries in a 11x13 Pyrex baking dish. In a small bowl or mug combine the kudzu root and water and stir until the root is completely dissolved. Add to the strawberries and mix thoroughly.

In a large mixing bowl combine oats, coconut, sunflower seeds, nuts, spices, brown rice syrup, maple syrup, and vanilla extract. Work the ingredients with your hands until everything is evenly coated. Add the butter into the bowl and combined so as there are no large lumps. Spread the topping on top of the strawberries and bake uncovered for 35-40 minutes or until the fruit has softened. Enjoy!

Roasted Kabocha Squash and Lentil Soup (Watch me in action!)

2010-04-20T10:56:00.001-07:00

Wellness for Life with Jamie Dougherty (Episode 1) from calico on Vimeo.

Three years ago I mustered all the courage I had and called the marketing director at my local Whole Foods. "Hi!," I said, in an intensely perky voice. "My name is Jamie G. Dougherty, Health and Lifestyle Coach, and I would LOVE to provide wellness lectures and cooking classes for Whole Foods." "Really," he replied. "As it turns out we are working with the Alta Bates Summit Medical Center to create a wellness series and we are looking for a nutrition component, " he continued. "Let's set up a time to talk." And so it was that I became the co-creator of the Whole Foods and Alta Bates Summit Wellness for Life Series! Since its inception we have provided nutrition lectures, health food store tours, and cooking classes for Alta Bates employees and the general public. It's an amazing program that I am so very proud of. Every month I give a cooking class that covers a specific topic. The following video is from my February "Heart Healthy" class where I blew everyone's mind with a Roasted Kabocha Squash and Lentil Soup recipe. I made a triple batch, hoping to take some leftovers home for dinner. After ladling thirds and fourths to some participants, I was left with an efficiently cleaned out pot. Thankfully, my initial perturbation gave way to gratitude. What better compliment than to have all the soup slurped up?? Enjoy!

Roasted Kabocha Squash and Lentil Soup

Serves 4

1 red onion, diced

2 carrots, peeled and diced

2 stalks of celery, diced

2 cloves garlic, minced

7 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil, divided

2 cups French green lentils, picked over and washed

6 cups water, organic vegetable or chicken stock

3 cups Swiss Chard, washed and chopped (feel free to use spinach or kale in its place)

2 cups kabocha squash, peeled and cubed

1/4 cup fresh parsley, chopped

3 teaspoons sea salt

Preheat the oven to 415 degrees. In a large stock pot over medium heat, sauté the onion, carrots, and celery in 3 tablespoons of oil until they are soft. Add the garlic and sauté for another 2 minutes. Toss in the lentils and water (or broth), bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer and cook for 40 minutes (cook for 20 minutes if the lentils have been soaked overnight.)

While the lentils are cooking, roast the kabocha squash. Peel and seed the squash and chop it into 1-inch cubes. Mix with 2 tablespoons of olive oil and 1 teaspoon of salt, place in a Pyrex dish, and bake for 40 minutes. Stir once at the 20 minutes mark for even cooking. The squash should be golden brown and soft on the inside.

Once the lentils are cooked, add the chopped chard and cook until wilted, about 5 minutes. Next, add in 2 cups of the roasted kabocha squash. (Place extra squash in the fridge for a quick snack.) Mix the soup thoroughly and add fresh parsley and salt to taste. Drizzle with remaining olive oil and serve with a big green salad. Enjoy!

Chana Masala and the Housewife

2010-04-14T08:44:00.000-07:00

I don't know where in the line of marital progression I became a 50's housewife, but somewhere in my wedded adventure, I did. Almost every evening (unless we've other scheduled events) my husband opens the door to our condo and says, "Hi, I'm home," followed by, "Oh! The house smells amazing." He stumbles down the stairs into the kitchen where I'm waiting, spoon in hand, ready to give him a taste of whatever's bubbling away on the stove. I never thought I'd be the wife who cooks dinner for her man every night. As a child I announced to my mother, after a long scuffle over the importance of cooking for one's family, that I didn't need to cook because I was going to HAVE a cook. Let's be honest here. I proposed that as the high powered CEO I was destined to become (I've always liked to be the boss), I would not only have a cook, but a chauffeur, maid, and nanny to boot. I have no idea from where these high-falutin' ideas emerged but, from a young age, I definitely had a plan. A plan that did not include my current role as "husband feeder".

I must say, there are a few items that differentiate me from a 50's housewife (besides my disdain for jello molds) . One: I do not wear a dress and heels in the kitchen, or ever really. My man feels blessed if he can catch me in a pair of jeans and a blouse but more often than not, he arrives to find me with sweaty face and frizzy hair, wearing his 5 sizes too big sweat pants and a stained tee. Ah, marriage! Two: I don't clean. When I cook, which is always, my wonderful husband cleans every dish, pot, pan, and spatula. Sometimes he dives into cleaning mode before I'm even done making dinner. Growing up I thought men were allergic to the combination of dish soap and water because I NEVER saw my father clean a dish. Perhaps that was the impetus for my CEO dreams. My mother reared 3 children, cleaned house, and cooked every meal with little domestic help from her partner. My father came home every evening to sit in the warded off "grown-ups" room, sipping on a scotch and reading the paper, until dinner was ready. When my mother sent us in to fetch him, my father would lift his day-wearied frame out of his deep armchair, slowly walk to the table, place his napkin precisely in his lap, and wait to be served. After gorging himself on chicken and broccoli in curry sauce, turkey meatloaf or any other of my mother's dishes, he'd let out an enormous sigh as if taking in his first breathe of the entire day, thank my mother for dinner and promptly head for our overstuffed couch for a post-dining nap. He rarely took in his plate and never offered to clear the table. I soon realized that in this situation my father was most certainly the CEO, and that's exactly where I wanted to be. My eight year old mind also found their dinner interaction to be a HUGE injustice for my mother and so vowed to never be anyone's "servant".

What I didn't understand at the time was my mother actually enjoyed their dynamic. Granted she wished my father helped more with clean up but she honestly enjoyed serving him. It still gives her great pleasure to make his favorite meals, place them on his plate, and hear the resounding praise. What's completely freaky is that I too seek out the same kind of acknowledgement from Gray. He can't get past bite three without my asking, "So, how is it? Do you like your dinner? Would you say this is a favorite??" OY, I am becoming my mother!!

Honestly though, I do have the best of both worlds. I am the CEO of JAMIE|LIVING and, as part of my job, I cook delicious food for the one I love. I'm not sure how to reconcile the chauffeur, maid, and nanny bit but I'm not going to try and figure that out now.

So, here's what my 50's alter ego whipped up for last night's on-the-go dinner: Chana Masala. Gray and I had tickets to a concert and he wanted to meet at the theater. "Should I eat before I get there?", he asked. I swear I don't know how he survived before me! I told him not to worry and that I would bring something for dinner. I had just read Molly Wizenberg's husband's recipe for Chana Masala so I thought, why not? I didn't have all the spices required so I kind of fudged it. When a lovely cumin spiced cloud filled the kitchen, I knew I had a winner. At 8 pm I arrived at the Fox theater food in hand, waiting for Gray. I must have looked quite odd, like some sort of bizarre, and obviously lost, delivery person. When we finally connected, I handed Gray his food, instructing him to devour it before we walked in. He open the container, threw back a quarter-cup sized bite and exclaimed, "Babe, this is epic!" I doubt any perfectly coiffed 50's wife ever got a compliment like that.

Chana Masala

Serves 4

I know it seems like a lot of ingredients, but it's not, really. This dish comes together so quickly yet it tastes like you've been cooking for hours. If you don't have cloves or nutmeg, feel free to use 1 teaspoon of garam masala.

1/4 cup olive oil

1 medium yellow onion, diced

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 1/2 teaspoons cumin seeds

1/2 an overflowing teaspoon ground coriander

1/4 an overflowing teaspoon ground ginger
2 teaspoons ground cardamom
1 pinch ground cloves
1 pinch ground nutmeg
A few good grinds of black pepper
1-2 teaspoons sea salt, to taste
1/4 cup plus 4 tablespoons water
One 28-ounce can whole peeled tomatoes (I used San Marzano)

2 tablespoons chopped cilantro

Pinch of cayenne

2 15-ounce cans garbanzo beans, rinsed and drained

Lemon

In a medium stock pot or Dutch oven, pour in the olive oil and heat up on medium. Add the onion and cook until deeply brown. This may take a bit of time but be patient and don't worry if the onions get a little black in places. It will enhance the flavor.

Reduce the heat to low and toss in the garlic, cumin, coriander, ginger, cardamom, cloves, nutmeg, black pepper and salt and cook, constantly stirring, until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Add 1/4 cup of water and scrape up the brown pieces from the bottom of the pan. Cook until the water evaporates. Pour in the juice of the tomatoes and then the tomatoes themselves, breaking each up with your hands as you add them.

Raise the heat to medium and bring the pot to a gentle simmer. Add the cilantro and cayenne pepper and cook gently, occasionally stirring, until the mixture reduces and thickens, about 5 minutes. Add the chickpeas, stir well, and cook for another 5 minutes. Add 2 tablespoons of water and cook for 5 minutes. Add another 2 tablespoons of water and cook for 5 minutes.

Adjust the seasoning if need and squeeze in a bit of fresh lemon juice. Serve over basmati rice and enjoy!

**According the Molly, the adding and cooking off of the water helps to concentrate the dish's flavors and softens the chickpeas.

Scarlett Runner and Fennel Soup...a Mountain Story

2010-03-31T14:25:00.001-07:00

Never cook beans at high altitudes. Never. Of course I told myself this 3 years ago when I tried making split pea soup for dinner one night while in the High Sierras of Mammoth. It was noon and I thought I'd just be extra cautious and start the soup. "I'm going to start cooking dinner," I announced. "That's ridiculous," Gray responded. "It won't take 7 hours to make split pea soup. And besides, do we have to eat that? It smells like gym socks!" I glared at him, imagining the Wiicontroller in his hand coming to life and smacking him upside the head. "It does not," I barked. "And even if it did, you're still eating it!"

I sauteed the onions, carrots and celery in a bit of olive oil, tossed in the peas with water to cover, and left it to "do its thing". Well, fast forward 8 hours and those peas had not done a darn thing! No breaking down, no softening, no nothing. Those freaking lazy peas! There they sat among the mirepoix, hard as a rock, with the water just looking back at me as if to say, "It's not my fault. It was the PEAS!!" It's also important to note that I am a 6:30 pm dinner diner. So by 8 pm I was about to eat my arm. "Let's just go out sweetie," Gray said, simultaneously trying to calm me while not getting eaten himself. "NO!!" I screamed. "I made soup and we are going to eat soup!" And we did. With our side salad and bread, we ate that crunchy pea soup bite by bite. Each terrible gulp felt as if my mouth walked into a cloud of chalk. By the end of the bowl I was willing myself to finish it. "Come on, Jamie. You can do it," I coached. "You show that measly little bowl of soup whose boss!" And I did. HA! Take that you crunchy, stubborn peas. With a tummy full of undigested pea parts, I collapsed onto the couch, uncomfortable yet undefeated. I have since never made a bean, split pea, lentil, you-name-the-legume soup while visiting Mammoth.

That is, until last weekend. OK, I cheated a little. I knew I wanted to make soup, you know, to complete our snow flurried visit. However, I was not about to relive my split pea horror. So I did what any resourceful girl would do. I cooked the beans a head of time. The trick worked beautifully. The soup came together in no time flat and the beans were perfectly creamy, with just the slightest bit of toothiness. Just as they were meant to be. Fantastico! So I cheated, so what! I give you all permission to cheat a bit on execution when necessary. However, if anyone has a trick on the best way to man-handle legumes in the mountains, I am all ears. Enjoy.

Scarlett Runner and Fennel Soup

Serves 4-5

I am notorious for throwing whatever I have into a pot and calling it soup. Sometimes it works, sometimes it REALLY doesn't. This time, thankfully, it did. Feel free to use celery for the fennel but I have to say, the fennel gives it a lovely touch of sweetness. Also if you cannot find scarlett runners, use any large creamy bean. Ayecote morado, cannellini, cranberry, or borlotti will all work beautifully.

1/2 onion, diced

2 carrots, peeled and diced

1 fennel bulb, fronds trimmed, cored, and diced

1/4 cup plus 1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil

1 teaspoon coriander

1/2 teaspoon nutmeg

3 cups scarlett runner beans, cooked

5-6 cups organic chicken stock or water

2 cups escarole, washed and shredded, feel free to substitute with kale or chard

sea salt and pepper to taste

In a medium stock pot, heat up 1 tablespoon of olive oil. Add in the onion and a pinch of salt and saute for 3-5 minutes, or until translucent. Add the carrots and fennel and cook until they have softened. Add in coriander and nutmeg and heat through. Throw in the beans with another pinch of salt and cover with stock or water. Bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer and cook for 15 minutes. Add the shredded escarole and cook until bright green and wilted. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Pour 1/4 cup olive oil into the soup and stir well. Feel free to add a bit more if you like it particularly rich :) Ladle into bowls and enjoy!

Fix My Food - New Episode (#3)!

2010-03-29T19:08:00.000-07:00

Mama's Birthday Dinner

2010-03-12T16:45:00.000-08:00

"The second I became pregnant with you, I knew I was having a girl," my mother sang. "I was so happy! All I wanted was a little girl with curly hair." This is a story I have heard a million times and yes, she got her wish. I couldn't control my curly mane if I tried. A much less talked about but just as strong parental desire for my mother was that this curly haired child would love to cook, promising countless hours of mother-daughter time the kitchen. That, unfortunately, was not in the cards. Granted I adore cooking now and rarely want to be anywhere but my kitchen, but this is a relatively new phenomenon. As a child I HATED cooking, just hated it. I was perfectly satisfied to eat any of my mother's creations (chicken in mayonnaise-curry sauce was a favorite) but help her in the process, no way! Every few months my mother would gently ask, "Jamie, would you like to help mommy make dinner?" "NO!", I'd emphatically state.

Even baking didn't interest me, it still doesn't actually, but looking back, what kid doesn't want to bake cookies? Luckily my mother found a baking compatriot in my little sister, which got me off the hook. Laura would make these ghastly concoctions in her easy bake oven that my mother lovingly ate. I specifically remember a cake resembling a flat round turd that Laura quickly doused in a powdered sugar, nonfat milk, and food coloring frosting. As my mother cautiously cut the thinnest possible slice I shouted, "MOM, that is SOOO gross!" "Jamie, be nice," she scolded. "I want to encourage your sister." "Yes, but do you have to put your life on the line for it?," I questioned. I must admit, my sister is now quite an excellent baker, most likely due to my mother's unconditional culinary support.

Not one to push, my mother gave up all hope of cooking with me pretty soon after I admonished her advances. Of course with my new view towards cooking, my mother now stands in the kitchen, mouth agape in amazement, wondering what happened to her anti-cooking daughter. "I never thought this day would come! I'm SO happy", she says. "I know, Mom. I love you. Now come help!"

My mother's birthday has always been a special date for me. March twelfth: 3/12. The curves of the 3 and 2 remind me of my mother's soft nature, of her innate "motherness". Fine I admit it, I am a Mama's girl! And the possessiveness I feel towards her birthday is simply an extension of my adoration. I decided this year I wanted to make something new and exciting. I usually stick to favorites but I was ready to go out on a limb this time. I came up with a menu I new she would love: roasted cannellini beans with sundried tomatoes and parmesan, braised fennel in lemon, and farro with pine nuts. As I cooked through the afternoon the aromas of sweet fennel and garlic emanated from the kitchen, spilling into every room in the house. "Want a glass of red wine," I asked. "Sure, it's my birthday!", she replied. By the time the food was done, my slight mother was clammering for her birthday meal through purple teeth.

Her first bite was the farro with pine nuts. "What is this??" she questioned. "Oh, it is SO good. Like barley...but BETTER." Next came the cannellini beans. "Jamie, this is amazing. With each bite I get a little surprise of parmesan and tomato." Finally, the fennel. "Who would have thought to cook fennel this way? I always avoid it because I'm scared!" By the time the meal was over my 120 pound mother had polished off seconds of the beans and fennel and fourths of the farro. (Not that I was counting.) I left her enough for lunch the next day, glad to provide another meal for the birthday girl. When I got home on Sunday I worried how I would top this year's extravaganza. "Don't worry," I told myself. "You have an entire year to figure it out."

Farro with Golden Onions and Pine Nuts
Serves 2-3

1 cup farro, rinsed and drained
2 cups water
2 tsp. salt
2 tbs. extra virgin olive oil
1 red onion, minced
1/2 cup parsley, chopped
1/4 cup pine nuts, toasted

Cover farro with water by 2 inches in a bowl and allow to soak overnight. Drain in a colander.

Combine farro, salt, and 2 cups of water in a medium sized pot. Bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer and boil for 10-15 minutes, until farro it tender but not mushy. Remove from the heat, drain any excess liquid and set aside.

Heat the oil in a saute pan and add in the onions and a pinch of salt. Saute on low-medium heat until golden, about 20 minutes.

To serve, combine the farro, onions, pine nuts, and parsley. Add salt and a bit of olive oil to taste and enjoy!

Cannellini Beans with Sundried Tomatoes and Parmesan
Serves 4-5

2 cloves of garlic, chopped
4 tbs. extra virgin olive oil, divided
2 cups kale or swiss chard, washed and chopped
2 tbs. fresh rosemary, chopped
4 1-inch pieces of hard Parmesan cheese
1 lb. cannellini beans, picked over and rinsed
1 cup sun dried tomatoes in olive oil, chopped
1 cup pot liquor
1/2 cup parsley, chopped
Sea salt to taste

Cover the beans with water by 2 inches in a large bowl and let them soak overnight.

Drain the beans in a colander. In a large pot, cover the beans with water by 1 inch. Bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer and cook until the beans are tender, about 1 hour. Drain the beans into the colander, saving the pot liquor for later use.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. In a small Dutch oven, warm up 2 tbs. of olive oil, toss in the garlic, and cook for 1-2 minutes. Add in the kale and saute for another few minutes until tender. Add the rosemary, Parmesan, cannellini beans, tomatoes, a pinch of salt and 1 cup of pot liquor. Stir well. Cover with the lid and place in the oven for 20 minutes. Remove the lid and allow the beans to crisp up in the oven, about 10 minutes. Remove from the heat, drizzle with remaining olive oil, top with parsley, and serve.

Braised Fennel in Lemon
Serves 4

4 tbs. extra virgin olive oil, divided
2 fennel bulbs
1 clove of garlic, chopped
1/4 tsp. salt
3/4 cup water
2 tbs. fresh lemon juice

Cut off fronds from the fennel bulbs. Cut bulbs lengthwise into 1/2 inch slices, leaving the core intact. Heat 2 tbs. of oil in a large saute pan over medium heat. Place the fennel slices in the pan, sprinkle with salt and brown well, turning each slice over once.

Reduce the heat to low and add in the garlic, water, remaining olive oil and lemon juice. Cover and cook for 10-12 minutes until fennel is quite soft and tender. Add another squeeze of lemon if you like and serve immediately.

Goat Cheese, Potato and Kale Frittata

2010-03-02T12:33:00.000-08:00

When I fall in love, I fall hard. Maybe it's the Scorpio in me but I am extremely passionate and quite gifted at obsessing. Husband, dancing, my 7 hours of uninterrupted sleep, these are things I LOVE! I also tend to get obsessive about food (ya think!). And because I am a sucker for structure, when I love a food I will eat it morning, noon, and night. (Yes, even if the food is chili.) Eating the same thing over and over again doesn't feel restrictive to me but rather comforting. Yes, it is safe to say spontaneity is not my forte.

My current food love is my goat cheese and greens frittata. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would ever make, let alone fall in love with, a frittata. With its rich cholesterol laden eggs and dairy, this was a definite NO NO in the previous Jamie world of no animals fats. However since converting to conscientious omnivory, I now enjoy my organic/pasture raised animal products with measured zeal. (FYI: cholesterol from high quality meat, eggs and dairy help firm cell walls and reinforce tissue.) You should also know I never thought dairy would work its way back into my life. After an unfortunate entanglement involving Brie, Camembert, and a toilet, I decided I was allergic to all cheeses. As it turns out goat cheese, with its low levels of lactose, does quite well in the Jamie tummy. I'm still not into the rich and gooey cow's milk cheeses, but I am all about a light and tangy fresh chevre.

Before we continue, I need to say something about dairy because it hurts my soul to endorse a food with such a huge lobby behind it. I actually think Americans consume far too much dairy. Dairy, like meat, should be a lovely addition to your vegetable, bean, nut/seed, and fruit laden plate. A good way to make this transition is to think of yourself as a plant eater who dabbles in meat and dairy consumption. This will make it much easier to cast vegetables and vegetarian proteins as the star of your meal and relegate animal products to the chorus.

Also please note, not all dairy is created equal. There is a major difference between the politically-backed commercial milk companies and your local/organic dairy farmer. Organic dairy (especially raw) is higher in healthy omega 3s, and completely devoid of the hormones and antibiotics so prevalent in commercial milk products. By buying local dairy you also support your community, which needs your love far more than the larger milk conglomerates do. Lastly, too much non-organic commercial dairy can create digestive distress, breathing problems, and mucous formation. (For more info read what organic and non-organic milk does in our bodies and how the animals are treated.)

OK, back to my frittata addiction. The beauty of this dish is you can put anything you want in it. You can be spontaneous! I love how changing up ingredients is my singular version of spontaneity. Whateva! Use leeks or green garlic for the onion and substitute beet greens, broccoli, or Swiss chard for the kale. Another lovely addition might be sun-dried tomatoes with fresh parsley and thyme.

Create your own version and let me know how it goes. Be careful though, you might come down with your own frittata obsession :)

Goat Cheese, Potato and Kale Frittata
Serves 3-4

2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1/2 onion, diced
1 clove garlic, chopped
1 teaspoon rosemary
2 1/2 cups kale, washed and chopped
2 teaspoons salt (plus a pinch), divided
1 1/2 cups potatoes, washed and thinly sliced
8 eggs, cracked and beaten
3-4 tablespoons chevre goat cheese
2 tablespoons fresh parsley, chopped

Set a shelf on the middle of rack the oven and preheat to 400 degrees. In a large oven proof or cast iron skillet over medium heat, warm the oil and saute the onions until translucent. Add in the garlic, rosemary, and a teaspoon of salt and cook for another 2 minutes. Toss in the chopped kale and cook until bright green, about 4 minutes. Once the greens are done cooking, take the skillet off the heat.

In the meantime, place the sliced potatoes in a saucepan with a pinch of salt and enough water to cover. Cook over medium heat, covered, until the potatoes are tender but not falling apart. Drain, let cool for 4-5 minutes, and combine with the kale and onion mixture.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the eggs and the remaining salt. Add the eggs to the skillet and stir to combine. Lastly, break up the goat cheese into teaspoon-sized bites and sprinkle it over the egg mixture.

Place the frittata into the oven and bake until firm and a bit puffy, about 20 minutes. Sprinkle with fresh parsley and serve with roasted potatoes and cabbage slaw. Enjoy!

Ode to the Potato

2010-02-17T13:49:00.000-08:00

Oh Potato, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways: You are creamy yet firm. Soft but crisp. Brilliantly accompanied by both butter and garlic. Can be mashed or roasted. Oh how you fill my dreams and dazzle my tastebuds. May there never be a day without you dearest, oh dearest, potato.

Holy jeez do I love potatoes! I never grew up eating potatoes, as they were a dreaded white starch that supposedly provided no nutritional value along with unwanted weight gain. I remember a visit to my cousins' house where I stood in shock as they lovingly whipped together mashed potatoes. "Mashed potatoes?", I thought. "They must really have no care for their health at all!" What a little judgemental snit I was. I was completely misinformed and always looking for the newest "health danger" to avoid. From a very early age I was obsessed with food and its consequences, both good and bad. I was also terribly impressionable so whatever I heard I took as fact. Years later, while working my first receptionist job at the local Fantastic Sams (yes, I know!) I stopped eating carrots because I overheard a stylist say, "You know, carrots are totally loaded with sugar. And sugar makes you fat!" I should have questioned the information, knowing this was the same woman who downed diet coke and a Slim Fast bar every day for lunch. But no. She had said the dreaded F-A-T word and that's all I needed to hear.

Fast forward 13 years to find myself eating my own potato-bashing words. So let's just clear the air once and for all. Potatoes are a healthy food. That's right, I said it! They are a great source of vitamin C and also contain beneficial amounts of vitamin b6, potassium and fiber. So what about the information that potatoes are a high glycemic index food and can raise insulin levels? As it turns out, if potatoes are eating along side other foods that are high in fiber and contain a bit of protein and good fat, insulin levels stay calm. AMAZING! We must also remember that not all potato dishes are created equal. There is quite a difference between potatoes au gratin and a baked or roasted potato with a bit of organic butter. Some dishes are certainly a better choice than others so we must consider how the potatoes are prepared.

So here is my favorite roasted potato recipe. I've also recently discovered heirloom potatoes that are seriously, directly from heaven. Just like the divine nature of an heirloom tomato, these potatoes provide the quintessential potato experience; starchy, flaky, and just a tad sweet. So where can you can get these potatoes? From Little Farm that comes to the Berkeley Tuesday Farmer's Market, the Ferry Building Saturday Market, and the Temescal Sunday Market. Can you tell I'm their new stalker?

Perfectly Roasted Potatoes
Serves 2-3

2 pounds heirloom or organic roasting potatoes, washed and quartered
2 garlic cloves, chopped
1 tbs. fresh rosemary, chopped
2 tbs. extra virgin olive oil
1 tsp. sea salt

Place a cast iron skillet into the oven and preheat it to 415 degrees. Fill a large pot with water and bring to a boil. Transfer the quartered potato into the pot with a pinch a slat and allow to cooking for 5-7 minutes. Drain the potatoes in a colander and let them cook for a few minutes.

Toss the potatoes with garlic, rosemary, olive oil and sea salt and transfer to the hot pan in the oven. Bake for 30-40 minutes, making sure to turn the potatoes every 10 minutes or so. Potaotes are down when they have a nice crisp exterior. Enjoy!

Blueberry Chocolate Truffles

2010-02-08T15:25:00.000-08:00

I've always loved chocolate. Always. I distinctly remember going to a family reunion where one of our distant relatives, a Hershey employee from Hershey Pennsylvania, brought an obscene amount of Hershey's kisses and chocolate bars. I literally holed up in our hotel room with my own bag and secretly sucked them down, three at a time. My sugar high actually made the reunion more enjoyable for me, though I'm sure my relatives thought I was insane.

And yet I must confess that I am new to chocolate. Chocolate as it should be, that is. When cutting out white sugar along went commercial chocolate and for years I was chocolate free. Luckily we are currently living in a chocolate revolution, where small companies now make organic and fair trade chocolate that is truly brilliant. The way people obsess over wine is the way these artisans obsess over their chocolate. I had no idea this little chocolate heaven existed and now I'm in the thick of it! Studies also show that chocolate is high in antioxidants and it's now not only OK but advised to indulge in anything over 70% cacao. (The higher the cacao percentage the less sugar and more antioxidants.)

This recipe was my first homemade reintroduction of how good chocolate can be. The truffles are dark, rich, and have just a hint of blueberry. I'm actually not one for fruit and chocolate but this combo is to die for! A perfect antioxidant-packed treat for Valentine's Day. Enjoy!

** Just FYI, if you didn't want to make your own chocolate treat I would pick something up from Alter-Eco or Coracao. They both have divine chocolate!

Blueberry Chocolate Truffles
Makes 12 truffles

2 cups walnuts (or pecans)
1 cup pitted dates
1 cup frozen organic blueberries
1/3-1/2 cup cocoa powder (depends on how chocolatey you want them)

cocoa powder to roll the truffles in

Blend all the ingredients in a food processor until the mixture is smooth. Shape the mixture into small balls and roll in the cocoa powder. Chill in the refrigerator for a few hours before serving. YUM!

Valentine's Thai Curry

2010-02-02T17:01:00.000-08:00

The first and only time I ever made Thai curry was about 2 years ago. I had recently overcome my fear of coconut and fat and was ready to venture out into the wonderful world of coconut milk. I was also new to curry paste, a spice combination I had avoided for concern of tummy upset. I dutifully followed the recipe on the curry paste bottle and filled the house with the amazing aroma of far off lands and sweet coconut. As we sat down to dinner I was so exciting. ""What an exotic cook I've become," I thought to myself. We leaned over our bowls and breathed in the steamy broth. With a knowing glance of anticipation we dove into the curry. The next shared glance was certainly unexpected. Instead of oohing and aahing over the amazing flavors, we ooowww as the curry proceeded to burn our faces off! Yes, in all of my exotic cooking glory I add 2 TABLESPOONS of curry paste rather than 2 teaspoons. How was I supposed to know! I'd never used curry paste before. Needless to say we ate a lot of rice and just a tiny bit of Thai curry that night. When I asked Gray if he wanted to take leftover for lunch he politely said, "UM, no thanks." Not a good sign.

The below recipe is my Thai curry do over. And it is freaking great! I was thankfully re-inspiring by my friend Nora who made this for us on a recent trip to Mammoth. The best thing about this dish is that it comes together very quickly and houses everything you need. A serious one-pot wonder. It's also perfect for a Valentine's dinner when you need something rich, creamy, and slightly indulgent. Actually that could be any night for me :) Enjoy!

Valentine's Thai Curry
Serves 4

Feel free to substitute wild caught shrimp for the chicken. You can also make the dish vegan by adding a can of garbanzo beans as the protein source.

1 small red onion, diced
2 teaspoons extra virgin coconut oil
2 garlic cloves, minced
1-2 teaspoons of Thai Kitchen red curry paste, use more if you like it hot!
2 inch piece fresh ginger, cut diagonally into large chunks
2 cups kabocha squash, peeled and cubed
2 cups German butterball potatoes, cut in half or quartered depending on the size
1 can coconut milk, full fat please
1 can water
1 1/2 cups shredded chicken
3 cups Swiss chard, kale, or spinach, washed and chopped
1/4 cup fresh cilantro, chopped
1/4 cup fresh basil, chopped
1/4 cup fresh mint, chopped (optional)
sea salt to taste

In a medium stock pot, heat the coconut oil and saute the onion until translucent. Add in the garlic, curry paste, ginger, and a teaspoon of salt and cook together for 3 minutes. Be sure to mix the paste into the garlic, ginger, and onion thoroughly. Add in the kabocha squash, potatoes, coconut milk, and water. Bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer, and cooking for 10 minutes, or until the squash and potatoes are tender.

Add in the chicken, green veggies, and a teaspoon of salt and cook for 4-6 minutes. The greens should be wilted and soft. Toss in the cilantro, basil, and mint. Adjust the seasoning to your taste. Ladle into large bowls over brown jasmine rice and enjoy!

Even Health Counselors Get Sick...And Need Soup

2010-01-25T11:59:00.000-08:00

ARGH!!!!!! I hate being sick. Besides feeling lousy and subsequently lazy, I also particularly despise being under the weather because I feel like I've failed at my job. "Health and Lifestyle Expert, you say. HA! Guess all that kale doesn't help after all, does it?", says the hunchbacked, moley curmudgeon in my head. "Yes it does!", I protest. "I NEVER get sick. This is just a freak occurrence!" And in all honesty, it is. I rarely get sick and when I do, it certainly passes quickly. Not this time, however. I was actually getting over a short lived cold last week when we visited our friends and their 7 month old daughter. Now, I adore this child and when we were told she had a cold I thought, "I've already had a cold (meaning I can't get another one) and she's just a baby. I can't get a cold from a baby!" And so I proceed to hold the baby, incessantly kiss the baby, and practically suck on the poor kid's face until we left. Three days later my cold was back with a vengeance and I've been resting (or trying to) for the last week. GOODNESS, can't a girl catch a break. It's certainly hard to relax when I've got so much I want to do and yet just making a simply meal for myself has been an accomplishment this week.

Alright, enough boo hooing. I will live, I will survive, and I have a lifetime to work hard so I might as well enjoy this little break. Monday I mustered the strength to make one of my favorite soups, Escarole with Borlotti Beans. Escarole is a hearty winter green that becomes surprisingly silky in this dish. Borlottis are a personal bean favorite of mine with their firm skin and creamy center. I know I shouldn't pick favorites, but this bean is tops for me. They are also an ideal introductory bean for they are nearly impossible to turn to mush. The finishing touch on the soup was a bit of leftover steak. I usually make a vegetarian version but the steak was crying out to me so I thought, why not? The meat was quite perfect actually and added a lovely bit of texture and depth. The soup also reheats beautifully and is quite nice over brown rice. I leave you now to take a nap. Enjoy!

Escarole and Borlotti Bean Soup
Serves 4
If you cannot find Borlottis, cannellini beans work just as well.

1 onion, diced
2 garlic cloves, minced
2 tablespoons of olive oil
8 leaves of escarole, washed and chopped
2 cups borlotti beans, cooked
1 cup leftover steak, cubed (optional)
4-5 cups of vegetable, chicken, or turkey stock or water
1/4 cup fresh parsley, chopped
sea salt and pepper
olive oil to taste

In a medium stock pot, heat up the olive oil. Add in the onion and a pinch of salt and saute for 3-5 minutes, or until translucent. Add the garlic and escarole and cook until the escarole has wilted. Add in the beans and the steak with another pinch of salt and heat through, about 2 minutes. Cover the mixture with your liquid of choice, bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer and cook for 15 minutes. Add in the parley and season with salt and pepper to taste. Ladle the soup into individual bowls and serve with a drizzle of olive oil on top.

Chicory, Persimmon, and Almond salad

2010-01-20T16:52:00.001-08:00

A few years ago I used to greet each winter with a serious salad depression. My mother always served a salad on the dinner table (hippie mom, remember) and so as an adult, when the summer salad season (say that 3 times fast!) would come to an end, I just didn't know what to do. Without a salad, the table is simply bare to me. You've got to have something raw to brighten up the warmer, heavier dishes, right? To explain how much I love salad, When I was a child, and even into college, I could make any meal out of salad. Salad for breakfast? Ah, yeah! I distinctly remember when I was 12 years old, I made a romaine lettuce salad, used my favorite tortilla chips as a fork, and topped it off with low fat frozen yogurt. That's balanced, right?? My mom even claims that when pregnant with me she craved vegetables. (Unfortunately, she craved donuts and cake with my sister, who subsequently has a serious sugar issue. She will deny it, but it's true. Love you, Laura!)

So in the winter, why don't I just buy pre-bagged salad greens at Trader Joe's and call it a day? Because I'm a salad brat, that's why. Salad, like apples, can only come one way for me. Crisp with lots of flavor! What happens to pre-bagged and out of season salad greens, is they become wilty and dried out and subsequently, FLAVORLESS. You end up dowsing your salad with tons of dressing just to give it a little pizazz. I'm not knocking Trader Joe's but rather have realized I'd rather just wait and have something really tasty. Luckily in my culinary adventures I've realized I don't have to go without salad in the winter. I just need to change my definition.

Chicories, arugula, endive, and cabbage are delicious as salad and experience their peak in the California winter. (I know all you non-Californians say it isn't winter, but it is to us.) They are not as water logged as romaine, butter lettuce, and little gems, and certainly have a more "toothy" texture. They also run along the spicy/bitter taste profile, making them a perfect pair for sweet and tart winter fruits like persimmons and citrus. From a health perspective, bitter greens are particularly helpful in cleansing the system, which make them an ideal accompaniment for hearty winter fare.

This dish was inspired by a chicory and hazelnut salad we had at Contigo. This brilliant restaurant can do nothing wrong in my option, and the chicories were phenomenal. Along with the ahi tuna stew and patatas bravas (their garlic aioli is RIDICULOUS!), the chicories were certainly a favorite.

I served this salad with Umbrian lentils and something else. I really can't remember because I was too enamored with my salad. You will be too!

Chicories with Almonds and Persimmon
Serves 2

1 medium-sized head Chicory (looks like a small multi-colored cabbage), leaves washed and dried
1 Fuyu persimmon, peeled and diced
1/4 cup toasted almonds, chopped
1/4 cup fresh cilantro, chopped
1/4 cup fresh mint, chopped
2 scallions, chopped
2 tablespoons unrefined extra virgin olive oil
1-2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
1 teaspoon sea salt

Place washed chicory leaves in a large bowl. Peel and dice the persimmon and add it to the lettuce. Throw in chopped almonds, cilantro, mint and scallions.

Drizzle with balsamic vinegar and olive oil, sprinkle with salt, toss, and you are done!

Love, Light, and the Sour Puss Part 1

2010-01-20T16:34:00.001-08:00

There is no better feeling than being in front of my audiences. I know I've said it before but they bring such joy and light to my life. Yes it's hard work and yes I sweat like a pig. I'm actually not much of a sweater but get me in front of a group and it is Niagara falls. Holy goodness! My sweat is not the point, however. The point is that for all the love, energy and effort I give out, my audience throws it back ten fold. It just might be that the efforts we put out in our lives are generously mirror back. When we smile at neighbors, make friendly conversation in the gym, or help a co-worker, we not only create deeper connections with our environment and communities but also greater insight into a deeper personal self. Whoa! That's deep.

Just FYI, I have not always been a beacon of light and smiles, just ask my family and a few ex-boyfriends. This whole "smile and the world smiles back at you" thing is pretty new. In college I was renowned for my sullen expression and icy glares. I was certainly NOT the girl to ask for directions. I was overly selfish and primarily concerned with how the end result of any interaction affected me. They say we learn from our parents and though I believe nature and nurture both foot the bill, I just have to say this. From my perspective as a child, my parents' interactions were such that one always gave and the other always took. I was certainly not a stupid kid and quickly decided that taking was the path for me. And so it was, and it worked for me. Until it didn't. The problem with being selfish and negative is the underlying pulse of dissatisfaction. I'd experience moments of joy, love, thoughtfulness, but they soon dissipated leaving me with myself, my "grass is always greener" and "everyone has what they want but me" self. May I just say, that self sucked!

The turning point in my life came in 2000 with my diagnosis of ulcerative colitis. It was certainly a dark period and looking back, no wonder I became ill. At the time, I lived in a cubicle-sized dorm room and had scheduled my life down to the minute with classes, studying, and working out. Three to four times a week I'd call home, crying to my mother about my misery. Thinking back though, I can't remember why I was so upset. I didn't like school, fine. I didn't connect well with my friends, OK. I was driving myself crazy with restrictions, fair enough. But why the pain and desperation??? Because I had no conscious awareness of peace and gratitude.

Well, ask and you shall receive! Up came a huge dose of reality with my UC diagnosis and a lovely family label, "Girl with the butt disease" that has yet to wear off. The startling prognosis and realization that if you don't have your health, you really don't have anything, was quite a lot to take in for a 20 year old. And so I attacked my disease with the same aggression that permeated my life. I was going to make that UC regret the day it inhabited my little colon. I was going to make it beg for mercy with brown rice and broccoli, and when it had cried enough, I would kick it's ass to the curb. I became a strict macrobiotic, cutting meat, dairy, sugar, caffeine, eggs, and anything processed out of my diet. And it worked, until it didn't. (Part 2 on the way)

Here is one of my favorite macrobiotic recipes. It is delicious and mineral rich dish to warm you up on a cold winter's night.

Adzuki Beans with Winter Squash
Serves 2

1 cup adzuki beans
1 piece kombu (a seaweed very high in minerals)
2 cups butternut or kabocha squash, peeled and chopped
water
2 teaspoons unrefined toasted sesame oil
1-2 tablespoons tamari (wheat free soy sauce), add more or less to taste
3 scallions, chopped

Rinse and soak beans with the kombu for at least 5 hours or overnight. Drain the beans and chop the kombu into bite sized pieces.

Place the kombu and squash in the bottom of a medium sized pot. Top with the beans and cover with water (about 1 inch past the top of the beans). Bring the pot to a boil, reduce to a simmer, and cook for 45 minutes. Check half way to add more water if need be.

When the beans are done, stir in sesame oil and tamari. Top with scallions and enjoy.

Lamb Tagine with Apricots and Scallions

2010-01-12T13:57:00.000-08:00

I cannot believe what a meat freak I've become!!! It's rather embarrassing to admit especially since I was the self righteous non-dairy pescatarian for 7 years. "Jamie, what piece of the chicken would you like?" a poor unsuspecting hostess might ask. "Oh, no thank you," I'd smirk. "I don't eat meat!" (FYI: A non-dairy pescatarian is someone who does not eat any animal products and fish occasionally.) I took meat out of my diet for health purposes at a time when my body seemed to rebel against everything I put into it. And I will say this...cutting out meat helped. Additionally, I cut out dairy, sugar, caffeine and wheat, which also helped. At that time I was a seriously strict, anal retentive black or white person. Meat: BAD, Brown rice: GOOD. Butter: BAD, Kale: GOOD. Brown rice and kale are still and forever will be in the good pile, however in the last year, meat and butter have left the dark side and entered the light.

Now, let me put my health counselor hat on for just a sec. Brown rice and kale should definitely be consumed MORE OFTEN than meat. Nutritionally speaking, meat is certainly not a daily necessity whereas whole grains and green vegetables are. A good tip I give my clients is to try to eat meat only once a day. I actually plan my meals such that if I know I'm going to have, say, LAMB TAGINE, for dinner I eat a vegan breakfast and lunch. That way I make sure to get in plenty of greens, beans, and whole grains while still enjoying my carnivorous indulgences.

OK, now I know I sound like a broken record here, but not all meat is created equal. Commercially raised animals lead awful, tortured lives and are loaded with antibiotics and hormones that are hazardous to your health. Therefore it is imperative to purchase organic, pasture raised, and hormone/antibiotic free meat. A few good places to find organic meat is at your local Whole Foods Market, the farmer's market, or a neighborhood butcher. (Find a farmer's market near you by using the Culinate icon to the right.) Many times the butcher will even order organic products for you if they don't carry them.

And lastly, pasture raised meat just tastes better. I actually bribed my mother-in-law with lamb if she bought me a tagine and when I served this dish up, she practically hit the floor. So delicious, so tender and nuanced, she really couldn't believe her taste buds. "It's all about the organic meat", I beamed.

So I leave you now to enjoy this amazing tagine. Traditionally served over couscous, I serve it with brown jasmine rice and roasted brussel sprouts. Enjoy!

Lamb Tagine with Apricots and Scallions
Serves 3-4
I prepared this dish in a traditional tagine however you can also use a dutch oven or heavy bottomed pot.

For the lamb
1 pound pasture raised ground lamb (** or 1 pound lamb meat cut into 1 inch cubes)
1/2 medium onion, grated
1 egg
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

For the tagine
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 onions, peeled and sliced into half moons
10 apricot halves, dried and sulfur-free (the apricots should be brown and shriveled rather than plump and apricot colored)
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
salt to taste
3/4 cup water
1/4 cup toasted almonds, chopped
1/4 scallions, chopped

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. In a large bowl, mix together the lamb, onion, egg, salt and cinnamon. Form into small golf ball sized balls and lay them out in a Pyrex baking dish. Bake in the oven for 12 minutes. Remove the meatballs from the dish and place on a plate with paper towels to drain excess fat.

Reduce the oven to 350 degrees. In a saute pan, heat the olive oil on medium heat. **If you are using cubed lamb, brown the lamb in olive oil. If not, just saute the onions in olive oil. After adding the onions, season with salt and cook until soft. Add the meatballs (or cubed meat) into the bottom of the tagine and cover with the onion mixture. Add in the remaining spices and apricots and a dash of salt, along with 3/4 cup water. Cover and place in the oven for 1 hour.

Remove the tagine from the oven and take off the lid carefully. Top with toasted almonds and scallions and serve with couscous or jasmine brown rice.

Arugula & Red Cabbage Salad with Balsamic Vinaigrette

2009-12-31T11:49:00.000-08:00

Happy happy new year! I am back and have certainly missed blogging. The last two weeks I've been cooking up a storm. From meatball soup with kabocha squash and carnitas to apple crisp and persimmon cookies, I've certainly gotten my fill of rich food. You know you've had enough holiday eating when you wake up craving water and a salad. Something clean and refreshing, please! That being said, there's not one bite of holiday goodness I would give back. December for me is a month to let go, enjoy, and ring in the new year with love and self acceptance. Now I don't go crazy, like downing a box of See's candy, but if I want a persimmon cookie (or 4) I eat it. What's amazing too is that when I give myself permission to have what I want, I end up eating less. It's just not as much fun to gorge myself when I'm allowed to.

I haven't always been so ZEN about holiday eating, however. Consumed by guilt and fear of weight gain, holiday gatherings were a serious emotional ordeal. I constantly worried about what I ate, how much, and the caloric ramifications of my sugar-laden actions. Each bite of double chocolate cheesecake brought about simultaneous feelings of pleasure and pain. I loved my Mom's homemade cheesecake with its creamy decadence yet with eat bite, up went the calorie tab in my head. And of course the worst part of my eating insanity was the more I stressed about my food and tried to restrict it, the more I shoved into my face. I remember inhaling cranberry pear tart at midnight because earlier in the evening I stated I was done eating tarts! The more aggressive and restrictive I got, the more my inner child rebelled. "No more desserts, you say? I'll show you!!!" And of course who ended up stuffed to the gills and anxiety ridden after such a binge...me!

This nasty cycle went on for years and didn't really clear up until I started looking at food as a way to nourish and heal myself rather than a mechanism for control. I think it's almost impossible to take the emotionality out of eating. However, when we nourish ourselves in the context of self-care, gratitude, and love, the urge to stuff our over-active neurosis with food melts away. I now take the food I need, thank my tummy for digesting all I put into it, and I'm done.

How the heck did I even get on this topic? Oh right, craving salad. So here is my way of balancing out the heaviness of holiday fare and guilt...a bright winter salad! This combo is a great mix of textures with a fantastic sweet and pungent punch. Cabbage and arugula are also helpful detox foods, making this salad perfect for cleansing the system after unaccountable cookies and too much champagne.

Arugula & Red Cabbage Salad with Balsamic Vinaigrette
Serves 3-4

3/4 of 1 head organic red cabbage
2 cups arugula, washed
1/4 cup cilantro, chopped
1/4 cup fresh mint, chopped
3 scallions, chopped
2-3 tablespoons unrefined and peppery olive oil (my fav is Bariani)
2 tablespoons sweet balsamic vinegar (my fav is again, Bariani)
1 teaspoon sea salt
1/4 cup dry roasted almonds, chopped

Start by shredding the cabbage. Place cabbage on it's flat end and cut in half. Cut in half again, which gives you 4 quarters. Place one quarter in the fridge for another time. Slice cabbage into thin strips, avoiding the white core. Cut the cabbage strips in half and place in a large bowl. Add in the arugula, cilantro, mint and scallions. Drizzle with olive oil, balsamic vinegar and salt and toss well. Top with almonds and serve. Enjoy!

Coriander Collard Greens with Sweet Potatoes

2009-12-21T14:23:00.000-08:00

"Are you sure this is safe for human consumption?", he said with a concerned look on his face. I had just placed a beautiful plate of braised kale with carrots and garlic in front of my new boyfriend. "Yes, Gray. Humans can eat all sorts of leafy greens. Mustard greens, bok choy, collards, kale. They are all delicious and really good for you." "I'm not sure," he wavered. "The only time I ever bought kale was to feed my pet iguana, Spud!"

And so goes the American relationship with greens. They are for garnish or iguana food, certainly not for the pristine palates of humans! In fact it is rare for anything green to cross most people's plates on a weekly basis, let alone daily (and no, parsley doesn't count). In my experience those who say they don't like greens just haven't had them prepared correctly. For example, I always thought I hated asparagus because my grandmother boiled it to grey mush. Yet there is nothing more divine in late spring than asparagus on the grill with a punch of lemon and Parmesan. OMG! We must all remember it's not the green we detest, but what's been done to it.

Gray now devours any green I put in front of him and loves every bite. (Or so he tells me.) So, what's my greens secret?...I NEVER steam or boil them. Alright, let me rephrase. I never serve vegetables prepared plain without any sort of aromatic or fat. Would you just boil meat and serve it up? I hope not. Greens, like any other whole food, need a little help. Aromatics (garlic, onion, shallots) bring out the greens' innate sweetness while fat rounds out the flavor. Steamed or blanched is fine, just be sure to top the vegetables with a nice vinaigrette, pesto, or fruity olive oil.

Most of my clients, particularly women, look to salads for their vegetable intake. While salad is good, it only gets you half way there. To really get all the vitamins and minerals you need, you've got to go darker and leafier. Try branching out from spinach and romaine lettuce and pick up a gorgeous bunch of kale or collard greens. These foods are not only delicious but also loaded with fiber to help move out all that excess holiday food ;)

This is a wonderful anytime dish and would even go nicely on your holiday table. What, you weren't going to serve anything green at your holiday festivities? Well, now you are. I also like to make extra and scramble it up with eggs in the morning.

Coriander Collard Greens with Sweet Potatoes
** FYI- Collards can be a bit bitter. If you are sensitive to this flavor, try the recipe with kale instead.

1 yellow onion, diced
2-3 tablespoons olive oil or organic butter
2 cups sweet potatoes, peeled and cubed
1 teaspoon coriander powder
1/4 cup water, divided
sea salt to taste
3-4 cups collard greens, washed and finely chopped (kale or swiss chard work well too)
1/4 cup cilantro, chopped (optional)
1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice

In a large saute pan, heat the olive oil over medium heat. Add the onion and a pinch of salt and saute for 5 minutes, until onions become translucent. Toss in the cubed sweet potatoes and coriander and stir until evenly coated. Add half the water to the pan and cover, allowing the potatoes to quickly soften, 7-8 minutes. (Add more water if necessary.) While the potatoes are cooking, cut the collards. Roll the greens into long cigars and chop into thin strips from one end to the other. Cut the strips in half for even cooking.

When the potatoes have softened, remove the lid and add the collard greens and cilantro. Mix thoroughly and add another quick pinch of salt and the remaining water. Return the lid to the pan and reduce the heat to low. Let the saute cook for another 8 minutes or until the collards are dark green. Remove the lid and stir the mixture together. Season with salt to taste and drizzle with the lemon juice and a touch more olive oil. Enjoy!

Curried Sweet Potato Latkes

2009-12-14T11:09:00.000-08:00

Martha Stewart always reminds me of Hanukkah. Not the Martha Stewart of today, but Martha circa 1982. Every December my mom drags out one of her most utilized cookbooks, "Entertaining, by Martha Stewart" and scours the pages to decide what to make. If you've never seen the book, I highly recommend checking it out. (Though I don't think you can find original editions anymore.) Besides gazing upon a young and seemingly jovial Martha, the layout and pictures are simply gorgeous. I will say this, the woman knows how to put a table together! I remember sitting at the kitchen counter, flipping each page with glee to see the next gorgeous dish Martha deemed a must-make for any real hostess. Yes, there are parts of this book that are ridiculous. Like the insane homage to table settings. Did you know different china sets must be used depending on the theme and time of year of said soiree? How many dishes do you think I have, woman? Though the recipes are traditional and certainly dated (crown roast of pork with paper tassels in tow), there is something very warm and comforting within its folds. To this day I like to sit in my mother's kitchen and turn to the page featuring "Black Bottom Pie"; a sugar and dairy bomb of a dessert that my mother never made and I yearned for.

Picture of my lovely mother in her holiday glory...on the phone as usual!
It's completely bizarre that I associate Martha with Hanukkah, especially as her book regales the numerous ways to host an authentic Christmas gala. Whatever! Ultimately it's about being with family, smelling fried latkes and wishing for one of our party guests to bring me that Black Bottom Pie!

Though maybe not up to Martha's standards (we did use every day plates, after all) this year's Hanukkah party was certainly a hit. For many reasons in fact, but particularly due to the sweet potato latkes. I sound like a freak when it comes to my mom's food but it's just so good that I one) can't stop eating it (what happened to mindful eating?) and 2) don't want to share it. Luckily there were plenty to go around so I didn't resort to horde-mode. These sweet, spicy, and starchy little cakes are a welcome twist on the classic potato pancake. It's a latke with spunk! Be sure to make extra as they are a brilliant treat for breakfast.

Curried Sweet Potato Latkes

1 pound sweet potatoes, peeled
1 onion, peeled
1/2 cup buckwheat flour (Buckwheat is a gluten-free flour that gives the latkes a nice crispiness. Whole wheat flour will work as well)
1 teaspoon baking powder
2 teaspoons curry powder
salt to taste
2 organic eggs, beaten
3 tablespoons olive oil, coconut oil, or ghee for frying (I usually don't recommend olive oil on high heat but this once won't kill you)

Grate sweet potatoes and onion and put together in a bowl. Add in the flour, baking powder, curry power and salt and mix thoroughly. Stir the beaten eggs into the mixture.

Heat the oil in a frying pan on medium-high heat. Caution: You do not want the oil to smoke. Drop 2-3 tablespoons of the batter (depending on what size you like) into the oil and flatten. Fry over medium heat on both sides until golden. Place on a paper towel to drain excess oil. Serve with a dollop of sour cream sprinkled with scallions or apple sauce. Enjoy!

Vanilla Maple Granola

2009-12-07T14:06:00.000-08:00

When I first met my husband 6 years ago (goodness that's a long time!), he was a root beer drinking, white pasta and Tyson frozen chicken eating grad student. Though he usually denies such allegations ("I never drank soda! I just had it in the fridge that one time your came over.") his diet left much to be desired. In fact, he never really thought about food until we met. He ate when he was hungry and that was about it, where as I'm one who thinks about lunch while chomping breakfast. His parents weren't food-oriented (It's OK if I call them out, they don't read this anyway) so the delicious sense-engaging nature of food was not at the top of my dear husband's priority list. I am being a little hard on him though. While a student he had a crazy schedule with very little time to shower, let alone eat well. And yet, it's when we run around like chickens with our heads cut off that we NEED good food to fuel our overworked bodies. There were times I brought him dinner during certain all nighters, but for the most part I let him fend for himself. What a lovely girlfriend I was. I can't believe he married me! It's OK, I make up for it now. Every morning he rolled out of bed to a bowl of dry sugared cereal with milk or a frosting-shellacked danish on the way to class. Let's shoot our blood sugar through the roof before 9 am, shall we! I tried my hardest to explain the poor quality of his morning meals but to no avail. If there is one thing I know about my man, its that he will not tolerate being told what to do. Even if I'm right!

So what I've learned is if I can't go through him, I will go around him. My way of getting around the breakfast debacle was to simply give him a better yet similar option. "Have you ever tried granola?", I asked one morning. "Yeah, it's OK," he replied, not really listening to me. "What if I got you some to try instead of your regular cereal?", I queried. "Sure, I'm open." I'm open??? Sweet! Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I ran off to Whole Foods to get what I thought was a healthy breakfast alternative. Man, was I wrong! Most of the granola available had almost as much sugar as regular cereal complete with bizarre freeze dried strawberries and other "fruits". I was able to find one that fit my requirements but for the most part the selection left much to be desired. After a few months (yes months!) of eating barely Jamie-legal granola I said, "You know, the granola you get is kind of expensive and loaded with sugar. What if I make you some instead?", I offered. "Sure, I'm into it."

And so it was on that very day that Gray became a homemade granola man. He liked the first batch so much he's been making it himself every few weeks for the last 3 years. It's the only thing he makes, but he makes it good! I certainly feel proud of my little triumph over the sugared breakfast cereal. Now I just need to work on the copious beer consumption. Though I fear that's a lost cause!

Vanilla Maple Granola

2 cups organic whole rolled oats
1 cup sunflower seeds
1 cup raw nuts, chopped (almonds, walnuts, pecans, cashews)
1/2 teaspoon sea salt
1/4 cup shredded coconut (optional)
1/3 cup organic maple syrup (you can us a little extra if you like things particularly sweet)
1/3 cup extra virgin coconut oil or organic butter, melted
1 tablespoon real vanilla extract (no corn syrup or coloring added)

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Combine oats, seeds, nuts, salt and coconut in a large bowl. Whisk together the maple syrup, oil/butter, and vanilla and pour over the dry ingredients. Spread out in a large Pyrex baking dish. Make sure the granola is not piled on too high. Use two smaller Pyrex dishes if necessary.

Bake for 25-30 minutes or until golden, stirring twice during baking. Remove from the oven and let it cool. Store in a large cereal container and enjoy! This granola also make a fantastic gift.

Preserved Lemons

2009-12-02T10:37:00.000-08:00

I have been eying a clay cooking vessel for a while...years actually. Ever since my friend Jacqueline made a ridiculous vegan lasagna in a terra cotta dish. I'm like an elephant, I never forget. And little did my poor husband know that he was about to buy me one on our most recent trip to Sonoma. This idea had been percolating since June when Steve Sando mentioned the new Sonoma clay cookware shop Bram. Perfect! As we drove up to Sonoma I couldn't help but think about my soon-to-be purchase. What shape do I want? What about the color? Which piece will be the most versatile? When we got to the square and began to walk around, I discreetly headed towards the shop. "Oh, look at this!", I exclaimed in my most naive voice. "A clay cookware store. Who knew! Can we go in?" My husband has never once said no to a request that would benefit him culinarily. We were both excited by Bram's gorgeous collection and Gray was so into it, he actually picked out the piece we bought (I've got to let him make a few decisions). As we checked out, I looked to my right to see Paula Wolfert's new book Mediterranean Clay Pot Cooking: Traditional and Modern Recipes to Savor and Share Of course, another book I'd been pining after. "That's a signed copy," said the clerk. "SOLD!" Hey I needed this book and besides, I've got to know how to use the clay cooker right?

So why am I giving you a recipe for preserved lemons and not clay pot chicken with charred tomatoes? Well for one, tomatoes aren't in season (HA, gotcha!) and two, I'm totally intimidated! I know its hard to believe but I am seriously nervous to break in my new equipment. I've read Paula's book cover to cover and already know what I want to make (Bulgar and Greens with Pistachios and Yogurt) but I just can't get myself to do it. YET. That being said, now I've put it out there so I have to do it. Alright, I will. Go Jamie go!

In the meantime, try these super easy preserved lemons. It's a great way to keep lemons you don't have time to use while fresh. They also make a fantastic gift. As for uses, chop them up and put in your eggs, salad, lentils, greens, and grain dishes. Enjoy!

Preserved Lemons
Adapted from Paula Wolfert's Mediterranean Clay Pot Cooking

3 medium sized organic lemons
1/3 cup coarse salt
1/2 cup fresh lemon juice (from your other organic lemons)
extra virgin olive oil

Scrub the lemons and dry well. Cut each into 8 wedges. Mix them with salt and place in a 1 cup capacity glass jar. (I used a 1 1/2 cup capacity jar and it was fine.) Pour in the lemon juice. Close the jar tightly, give it a good shake, and let the lemons ripen at room temperature for 7 days. Be sure to shake the jar every day to distribute the salt and juice. To store, add olive oil to cover and place the jar in a cool cupboard or the refrigerator. They will last for up to a year. Be sure to rinse lemons before use.

**According to Paula, a white lacy growth MAY appear in your preserving jar as the lemons mature on the shelf. Don't worry about it. Simply discard it when you open the jar and rinse the lemons before use.

Maple & Spice Glazed Nuts

2009-11-29T14:07:00.000-08:00

Every year my parents throw a huge holiday party. Come December, 50 people descend upon my familial abode to enjoy fantastic food, drinks and the guaranteed impromptu jam session. (My father is a musician and loves to keep the party raging into the wee hours...around 11 pm.) My mom, heaven love her, is a total control freak about the food (ahem!) and likes to make most of it herself. To see her in the kitchen is like watching Giada De Laurentis on fast forward. Flip the potato latkes, stir the ratatouille, check the frittata, knead the cookie dough. It is complete insanity and I love it! I love it now, I should say. In my late teens and early 20's holiday cheer was unfortunately mixed with a heavy dose of food anxiety. Fear of fat and caloric overload kept me from fully enjoying the bounty. "How much fat does the cranberry pear tart have?" I'd bemoan. "Jamie, RELAX." my mom would say. "Just have a little bit and enjoy." I could have slapped her in that moment. What do you mean just have a "little bit"? My mother, the queen of self control, could take just a sliver of each dessert and be perfectly satisfied. What the heck is that? Unlike my mother, I'm an all or nothing kinda girl. I'd either eat half the tart or none at all. No little slivers for me thank you! The most troubling of her holiday delectables were her spiced nuts. You could smell the spicy sugary goodness down the street and every year they did me in.

Walnuts and pecans cooked down with tons of sugar and spice to make an awesome holiday munchy...how could I resist? She'd spread them all over the house so no matter what room I entered, there they were starring at me, willing me to eat just one more. Of course, one more turned into another handful which turned into me nonchalantly grazing in every room so that our guests wouldn't catch on to my sugared nut frenzy!

Thankfully this all stopped when I cut white sugar out of my diet. It still amazes me how much less stress I experience by not freaking out over calories and fat during in the holidays (family freak outs are another issue, however). Instead, I look at how the food reacts in my body and I know white sugar is a definite no no. My compulsion around the nuts was not only about my fear of fat but also the biological reaction that when I eat sugar I NEEDED more of it. And yet, over the years I've realized you cannot be all or nothing about food, or life in general. Rigidity leads to compulsion which inevitably makes way for anxiety and self-criticism.

So what can we do about the holiday foods that do us in every year? Why make a Jamie|Living version, of course! Here is a delicious rendition of my mom's holiday nuts without the white sugar. And where did I get the recipe? From my mom! Over the last few years she too has jumped onto the no white sugar bandwagon and has altered a number of her recipes to make them a bit more healthy and just as divine. Now be careful, even without the white stuff it's hard to just have a few ;) Enjoy!

Maple & Spice Glazed Nuts

3 tablespoons real organic maple syrup
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper (add a bit more if you like things spicy!)
1 teaspoon lemon zest (optional)
2 cups nuts (pecans, walnuts and cashews work best)
1 pinch of salt

Toss all ingredients together and place on a baking sheet. Bake at 300 degrees for 15 minutes. Allow to cool fully for the syrup to harden. Spread around the house so you are always within arms reach of this scrumptious treat :)

Black Bean Pilaf with Cilantro Lime Dressing

2009-11-23T10:06:00.000-08:00

Let it be known, I am a bean freak! I have never met a bean I didn't love (though I've met a few who did not love me). I eat some sort of bean or legume every day (told you I was a freak) whether in soups, salads, sautes or casseroles. Beside their fantastic flavor, beans always make the Top 10 Healthiest foods list with their high protein and fiber content. These scrumptious staples can be put into almost any dish and yet many people suffer from what I call "bean bashfulness". That is, they deem beans too difficult to cook and therefore are bashful and subsequently unfamiliar with the beautiful bean's many uses.

I say this coming from a place of empathy because about 5 years ago I was in a full "bean bashfulness" flare-up. At the time I was 95% vegan (I ate fish twice a month) and used only tofu as my main source of protein. "Beans take too long," I complained. "First you soak them then cook them and when done, you're stuck with a giant pot of beans. What do you do with that?" Oh, naive little Jamie! But heck, what did I know about beans? The only beans I grew up eating were hidden in hummus and split pea soup or lovingly refried in lard and served up with menudo by my Mexican neighbors. (Who, by the way, called me skinny-bone Jones and claimed my mother was starving me to death!) The point is, I was at a bean loss and perfectly happy to stay there. As a side note, while eating countless blocks of processed tofu, I experienced uncomfortable stomach aches and flatulence. "Couldn't be the tofu", I blindly decided. "The stuff is WAY too healthy." Then one day I ran out of tofu and was forced to make lentils for my lunch and dinner. I had bought the lentils a few months prior at an attempt to branch out, which never happened.

The outcome was astonishing. Besides realizing how easy and delicious lentils were to make, I had no stomach distress all day. Unbelievable! After that I cut out processed tofu and replaced it with every type of whole bean and lentil I could find. My favorite beans now are heirloom varietals that have a rich smoky flavor and creamy texture I've never experienced with any other type of bean. Yes, standard black, pinto, and garbanzo are good too. Heirlooms just make the dish a bit more special.

I recently made this dish for a pot luck where all the guests were parents. I could barely make out the oohs and aahs from the satisfied tasters over the cacophonous noise of children's screams, grunts, and I think, a few howls. Though I had liberated these "bean bashfulness" sufferers with my pilaf I couldn't help but notice my own "conceiving cowardice" begin to grow. However, that's for another entry!

Black Bean Pilaf with Cilantro Lime Dressing

Feel free to used alternative grains that you like. Mixing in brown rice with the quinoa works wells and adds a nice texture.

Serves 4 as a side dish

1 1/2 cups quinoa, picked over, rinsed and drained

3 cups of water

1 1/2 cups Eden canned black beans, rinsed, drained and quickly blanched for 1 minute (If experimenting with heirloom beans, go for the Midnight Black Beans)

1 1/2 cups leftover cooked dino kale (you can also use broccoli, green beans, or swiss chard)

4 scallions, chopped

1/3 cup tamari roasted pumpkin seeds

Dressing

5 tbsp. fresh lime juice

1 tsp. sea salt

1 1/4 tsp. ground cumin

1/4 cup fresh cilantro, chopped

1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil

In a medium pot, add in quinoa, water, and a pinch of sea salt. Bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer, and cook for 16 minutes. Transfer the quinoa to a ceramic/glass bowl and let cool for a few minutes. Add in the beans, greens, and scallions.

For the dressing, use a small bowl and whisk together the lime juice, salt, cumin, and cilantro. Then add the oil in a continuous stream, making sure to continue whisking. Drizzle the dressing over the pilaf and mix well. Add in a bit more salt to taste in you desire. Top with pumpkin seeds and serve. Enjoy!

Seaweed Soup with New Friends

2009-11-18T12:58:00.000-08:00

Truth be told, I'm not a naturally friendly person. Yes, I can be outgoing but I'm just as comfortable being a hermit in my kitchen. Friends in college used to make fun of me for the scowl I wore around campus. "I can't help it," I'd protest. "It's just the way my face falls!" However, in the last few years I've made a concerted effort to flex my "friendly" muscle and even, heaven forbid, smile at people. It's actually quite nice. Anyhoo, it was on such a "friendly" muscle flexing day that I met Susan. We were seated next to each other and listening to a lecture on Spring cleanses. "She's pretty, well-dressed, and looks nice," I said to myself. "I should talk to her." And so I did! We proceeded to have a great conversation and before I could even stop myself I blurted out, "Hey, you should come over for dinner!" That's right, I invited a perfect stranger (and her husband) to my house. I was really stepping out! A few weeks later Susan and Sung came over for dinner and we had a fantastic time. As it turns out, Sung is a brew master which was an immediate plus for Gray. As the boys talked beer making and micro brews, Susan and I chatted about our mutual food philosophy and favorite recipes. The evening ended with hugs all around and promises to get together soon. That was over a year ago and I now consider them to be some of our closest friends.

So close in fact, we were able to weasel our way over for a traditional Korean feast a few weeks ago. Susan is a brilliant chef but this was my first time experiencing her Korean cooking. (To be fair, Sung cooked as well.) What a treat it was! We had garlic and sesame infused short ribs with shiso leaves, purple rice with kidney beans, handmade mung bean cakes (out of this world!!!), kimchee, marinated bellflower root and cucumbers, and seaweed soup.

My mouth waters just thinking about the meal. Each dish was masterfully constructed and had a depth of flavor that left the palate begging for more. As you can imagine, there were very few leftovers.

I asked Susan to share a recipe from the evening and she generously sent me the instructions for her seaweed soup. Besides being quite yummy and easy to make, this soup is particularly nourishing for those who are sick or have recently given birth. The seaweed's high mineral content is ideal for strengthening any compromised system. Enjoy!

Seaweed Soup (Miyeok Guk)

1 tbsp. toasted unrefined sesame oil

1/4 pound beef sirloin tips or rib sys steak, sliced into matchstick strips (Optional. You can also add shredded chicken instead or leave the meat out completely)

3/4 oz (little more than 1/4 cup) seaweed, reconstituted in water, drained and coarsely chopped

2 tsp. garlic, minced

2 tbsp. tamari

4 cups water

Sea salt and pepper

In a medium pot, add the sesame oil and place over low heat. Add the beef, reconstituted seaweed, garlic, and soy sauce. Stir fry until the beef is cooked through, about 5-7 minutes. Add the water and cook until the soup is very hot, about 5 minutes. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Delicious served with rice and kimchee.

When Crabs Cry

2009-11-10T15:18:00.001-08:00

I remember my mom once told me a story about my Aunti Michele and crying crabs. As the story goes, Aunti Mich (as we like to call her) was in the mood for crab and rather than buy it pre-cooked and cracked, she decided to go old school and do it from scratch. That's right, buy LIVE crabs and cook'em! As my mom regaled the story taking me through every nuanced detail of procuring said crab, she suddenly stopped. Her face contorted and with weepy eyes said, "Then she threw them into the boiling water! And you know what she said, Jamie? Aunti Mich said they screamed and cried and tried to get out!!! Isn't that awful?" "YES!!", I exclaimed. It was so terribly awful I couldn't stand it. Couldn't my Aunt have bashed them over the head first or something. I remember two things from that story: 1) My Aunt Michele was a serious bad ass and not to be messed with and 2) I would never cook live crabs. NEVER.

Fast forward a decade to this past Halloween, just a few weeks ago. We decided to be mellow and have another couple over for a nice meal. Mutton burgers on the BBQ, little gem lettuces with avocado and red Roma apples, fresh sweet batard, and a pecan pie. We had never made dinner with the other couple before but they are foodies so I thought, why not? The day before our planned food fest Gray called me to say, "Charlene and Toben are really excited about tomorrow night. By the way, Charlene wants to bring something special." "That's SO sweet", I said. "Yeah, she wants to bring LIVE crabs! Isn't that awesome?", Gray replied. "Ummmmm, I'm a little uncomfortable with that idea," I blurted. I was trying to remain calm but what I wanted to say was," Hell NO, are you insane? Don't you know they scream bloody murder until their little crabby voices are drowned out by the bubbling cauldron of death?!?"

I prepped myself for Toben and Charlene's arrival and was ready for my crab confrontation. After hugs and pleasantries I mentioned my trepidation about crab cooking. Without any hesitation Charlene promised it was no big deal and that I had nothing to worry about. This did not put me at ease in the least but I was not about to fight. She had her heart set on eating crab and I could see nothing was going to stop her. Off she went to the Asian market and returned with two giant and unhappy looking crabs.

There I stood in shock and horror as she boiled up a giant pot of water and threw each in, one right after the other. The first tried to jump out, scrapped the side of the pot as he went into the steaming water. Charlene didn't even flinch. Number 2 was much more docile, almost resigned to his fate after watching his buddy struggle. I will admit I didn't hear any screams, just one very tiny yelp as each crab hit the water. On went the lid and 20 minutes later, dinner was ready.

I told Charlene I wasn't going to eat any, you know, as a silent protest for the unsuspecting crustaceans. But the smell coming off them was too much to resist. "One little bite", I thought. "Thank you, Mr. Crab", I murmured, "for letting me eat you. P.S. Sorry about this!" As it turned out, my one bite became 20. They were the best crabs I had ever tasted. So delicious, so sweet, so FRESH. As a dipping sauce, Charlene served brown rice vinegar with julienned ginger rather than drawn butter; an ideal compliment to the richness of the crab that added a great balance of tangy spice.

It was quite a culinary adventure and one I'm happy I experienced. Once, however, I think will be enough.

Steamed Crab with Vinegar and Ginger

2 large King Crabs

Water

3 tablespoons sea salt

1/2 cup brown rice vinegar

1 inch fresh ginger, cut into thin strips

Fill a large pot a quarter of the way full with water. Add in salt and bring the water to a boil. Place each crab into the boiling water and let cook, covered, for 18-20 minutes. When the crabs are done their shells will turn reddish/pink. Take the cooked crabs out of the water and let cool. Turn the crab upside down. Insert a chopstick into the crab where the head and top shell connect and lift up. The shell will pop open like a lid.

Place the vinegar in a small bowl with the julienned ginger. Crack the legs and body of the crab to get the meat and dip in the vinegar sauce. Simple as that. Enjoy!

Gluten Free Chocolate Brown Rice Crispy Treats

2009-10-29T12:42:00.001-07:00

I've been telling you for years to lay off the sugar and I will say it again. LAY OFF THE SUGAR! "But Jamie, it tastes SOOOO good," you cry. Not to worry. Just because you forget the white stuff doesn't mean we have to give up sweetness altogether.

But first, why must we stay away from white sugar? Besides the fact that sugar is stripped of all vitamins and minerals by using bleaches and toxic chemical solvents, it also spikes blood glucose levels which can insight weight gain, diabetes, high triglyceride and cholesterol levels, poor eye sight, depression and a host

of other ailments. Exciting, huh? Americans eat over 150 pounds of sugar per person per year and yet from a biological standpoint, we do not need white sugar at all. Our bodies function perfectly without it: our taste buds, however, tend to differ.

So if we can't have white sugar, what can we have? Here are just a few of my favorite non-white-sugar sweeteners. They undergo minimal processing, contain trace vitamins and minerals, and don't spike blood sugar levels as drastically as white sugar. Granted it's important to remember that sugar is sugar is sugar. That is, we don't need a lot of it and even though there are "healthy" alternatives, these sweeteners should not be used in excess. Sweet treats should always be just that, a treat. An occasional indulgence that, because of it's infrequency, is very special.

JAMIE|LIVING's Favorite Alternative Sweeteners

Sweetener Amount = 1 cup white sugar

Barley Malt 1 1/3 cup

Brown Rice Syrup 1 1/3 cup

Organic Maple Syrup 3/4 cup

Rapadura/Sucanat (unrefined, unbleached cane sugar) 3/4 cup

Raw Organic Honey 2/3 cup

Brown Rice syrup was the first alternative sweetener I ever tried and it is still an all-time fave. Rich and smooth, this sweetener has an amazing depth of flavor that reminds me of butterscotch. Can't go wrong with that! Here is a delicious recipe that is a perfect introduction to using alternative sweeteners. I have made these for dedicated rice crispy fans who adored them and didn't even miss the marshmallow. You won't either. Promise!

Chocolate Brown Rice Crispy Treats

Serve 6

1/2 cup organic peanut butter (don't buy a "no stir" kind. It's got added sugar!)

1/2 cup brown rice syrup

1 tsp. organic vanilla extract

2 1/2 cups gluten free brown rice cereal (I use Erewhon brand)

1/4 cup 70% cacao chocolate chips

In a small sauce pan, heat peanut butter and brown rice syrup until they are melted together and creamy. Add in the vanilla and the brown rice cereal. Let the mix cool for a few minutes to make sure the chocolate chips don't melt when you add them in. Throw in the chocolate chips and mix thoroughly.

Pour mixture into an 8x8 Pyrex baking dish, place into the refrigerator and let cool for an hour or two. Cut into squares and enjoy!

7 Delicious Uses for Avocados

2009-10-26T09:48:00.000-07:00

"I'll have a California roll please, oh, and hold the avocado," I sheepishly ordered. "You don't eat avocado?" he blurted, at a decibel level that made me a bit uncomfortable. "Ummm no," I lied. "But the flavor adds SO much to the roll. It's rich, creamy, nutty and..." "It's a texture thing," I interrupted. "Not into the mushy stuff." Finally he dropped it. I was with my dear foodie friend Asi, out to share one of our favorite meals, sushi, and catch up. It had been a while since I'd seen Asi so it made sense he didn't remember that I used to eat avocado. I used to be all about them. In fact, I grew up with an avocado tree in my back yard that graciously gifted us avocados the size of my head. Entire summer meals centered around guacamole. But not anymore. I was deep in the throws of low fat mania, desperate to be "skinny" and not about to let one fatty avocado morsel pass my lips. Asi's overt infatuation with our beautifully twiggy waitress didn't help either. "There's no way in hell I'm eating avocado now!!", I thought.

My low fat days were a crazy time of trying to attain thinness (whatever that meant) and be a good diet soldier following each new craze with obsessive zeal. Looking back, it was really pure insanity. Eating processed, sugar laden fat free foods instead an actual whole fruit??? (Quick FYI, avocado is a fruit.) Just ridiculous! The 90's fat free thinking truly took a toll on our collective psyche. I still have clients asking me, "Are avocados really ok to eat?" YES YES YES. They were always OK to eat. It was just our whacked out desire for good health or the perfect body that allowed us to listen to poorly sourced nutrition and media advice, rather than our own bodies.

Besides being fantastically yummy, avocados are quite good for us. What, you say? Creamy, fatty, indulgent and good for me?? Sign me up! They are loaded with vitamins K, B and C and rich in omega 3 fatty acids. To be honest, a nightly fight can be viewed in our dining room as Gray and I battle it out for the chunks of avocado in our salad. Needless to say, I am always the winner. The trick is knowing that avocado, being heavier than the other salad ingredients, falls to the bottom. Lift up a few lettuce leaves and there they are! Cubed, dressed, and ready to be devoured.

Here are 7 great ways to get avocados into your diet. Just remember, go for local over Chilean and Mexican grown.

1. Salad dressing- mix mashed avocado with olive oil, lime/lemon, cumin, sea salt, fresh cilantro and thin with a little water.

2. Vegan mayonnaise- mix mashed avocado with olive oil, a splash of white wine vinegar, fresh dill, and sea salt and put on any sandwich.

3. A topping for everything- I put avocado over most things including lentil salad, cabbage slaw and sun dried tomato pilaf.

4. Chocolate mousse-blend avocado, honey/maple syrup, cocoa powder, and vanilla extract until smooth. Let it chill in the refrigerator for 2 hours and enjoy!

5. Cookies/Quick Bread recipes- Add 1/2 cup of mashed avocado to a favorite cookie or quick bread recipe.

6. Avocado seaweed salad- combine 1 avocado with 1/2 cup soaked arame or wakame and toss with green onion, cucumber, sesame oil, brown rice vinegar, and tamari.

7. Smoothie - add avocado to any smoothie for an added rich and creamy flavor.

Rainy Day French Lentil Lunch

2009-10-13T15:13:00.000-07:00

Every Sunday I make a big pot of something for my week day lunches. Yes, I work from home but I still don't have time to cook a meal in the middle of the day. I'm a busy girl, you know? Sometimes I make soup, other times I throw together a quick grain, bean, and green combo. Recently I've been really into lentils. Particularly the French green type. It's funny how our bodies can be particular about certain things and not about others. For example, my body loves French green lentils, Umbrian lentils, and red lentils. I always feel energized, full, and happy when they cross my plate. One bite of standard brown lentils however, and (without getting graphic) I require quarantining. They are all lentils though, right? Shouldn't my body act the same with each varietal? NOPE. Small changes in composition can set our sensitive systems off without much warning. The moral of the story...listen to your body. You should feel no less than amazing after you eat. If this is not the case, begin to think about those foods that make you tired, anxious, lethargic, and yes quarantinable. Your body is telling you something. Just listen.

As for my lentil lunch, I doctored it with a few trumpet mushrooms and broccoli I had in the fridge. Feel free to throw in whatever you've got: roasted sweet potato chunks, kale, avocado, shredded chicken, or a squidgy egg would all be yummy.

Lentil Salad with Trumpet Mushrooms and Broccoli

Serves 6 as a side dish

2 cup French Green lentils, picked over and washed

2 tablespoons ghee, coconut oil, or olive oil

1 medium onion, diced

2 carrots, diced

2 stalks of celery or 1 fennel bulb, diced

Sea salt to taste

1/4 fresh parsley, chopped

3 tablespoons of fresh dill or basil, chopped (don't skimp on the fresh herbs. They make a BIG difference)

Place lentils in a medium sized pot and cover with 3 inches of water. Bring the lentils to a boil, reduce to a simmer, and cook for 30-35 minutes.

While the lentils are cooking, chop up the vegetables. When the lentils are done, drain them into a colander. In the same pot, heat up the ghee. Add in onion, carrots, and celery with a pinch of salt and cook until the vegetables are soft, about 8-10 minutes. Add the lentils back to the vegetable mixture and toss in the fresh herbs. Season with salt to taste and a bit more ghee if you like.

***To add in trumpet mushrooms and broccoli:

In a sauce pan, saute chopped onion in a bit of olive oil. Add in mushrooms and cook for about 5 minutes. Toss in the broccoli with a pinch of salt and 3 tablespoons of water. Cover and let steam until the broccoli is tender, about 4 minutes. Add 1/2 a cup of the French green lentil mixture, warm through, and lunch is served!

Lamb and Kabocha Squash Mole

2009-10-12T13:12:00.001-07:00

"We don't need it", he said, straining to keep his voice low. "But I want it!", I whined, knowing my poor husband to be helpless when I enter brat-o-rama mode. "Come on, it will be SOOO good. I promise you will love it," I pleaded. Being a diva when it comes to food, I always get my way. Granted, I had just received a beautiful delivery from our meat CSA, but this was lamb, and fresh at that. I stood at the counter, eyes fixed upon my desired prize. Reluctantly he sighed and said, "OK, whatever the baby wants." SWEET!!!!

We had made this impromptu stop at Marin Sun Farms on our way to picnic at Hog Island Oyster Company. (There was also a detour to Cowgirl Creamery where I went a little crazy with the raw goat's milk cheese. The entire Marshall/Point Reyes area is where foodies go to die.

What can I say, I was in rare form.)

Thankfully, I can say no to most things stereotypically female. Shoes, clothes, perfume, handbags....so NOT interested. In fact, I hate shopping. It's the bane of my existence. But a cookbook, rustic olive oil, smoked salt, or in this case, lamb...I need it and can't live without it! As a child, I remember going to the market with my mom and loving the bins of fresh fruit, unshelled walnuts, the snack aisle. Food shopping is still the most coveted time I share with her. It's about bonding over a mutual love and no one else is invited. NO ONE!

Back to the lamb. I'd bought a few dry farmed tomatoes the day before with an inkling to make Heidi Swanson's vegetarian mole.

I've actually made her dish a number of times with fantastic results. Yet once laying my eyes on the nicely cubed stew meat Marin Sun Farms had to offer, vegetarian was out the window. Gray purchased my little lamb (he wanted to buy it as a "present" for me...so long anniversary jewelry) and off we went to our picnic. The day ended with full bellies of oysters, goat cheese, and beer topped with a stunning sunset. As we lazily drove home that Sunday afternoon my mind wandered to the dinner that lay ahead.

"Thank you lamby", I thought. "Thank you for sacrificing your body so that I may nourish mine. I promise to make you proud." And I certainly did.

**(P.S. I promise to start taking pictures with a real camera soon. This iPhone doesn't cut it anymore!)

Lamb and Kabocha Squash Mole

Serves 4

1 pound lamb stew meat

1 1/2 cups kabocha squash (kabocha squash is a Japanese varietal that is sweet and quite starchy)

2 tablespoons plus 1 teaspoon of coconut oil or ghee, divided

1 medium onion, chopped

1 1/2 teaspoons of cayenne pepper (use more or less depending on your personal spice level)

2 garlic cloves, chopped

1 1/2 pounds dry farmed tomatoes, diced (you can also use 1 14 oz can of plum tomatoes)

2 teaspoons of paprika

4 tablespoons of almond meal/flour OR grind 1 oz of roasted almonds

1/3 cup organic dark chocolate chips, like Sunspire

1/4 cup of water

Sea salt to taste

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Cut the squash into 3/4 inch chunks and toss with 1 tablespoon melted coconut oil and 1 teaspoon of sea salt. Place in a roasting pan and roast in the oven for about 20 minutes, until crisp but still firm.

While the squash is roasting, cook up the lamb. Heat a medium saute pan with a teaspoon of coconut oil. Toss in the cubed lamb with a pinch of salt and saute until each side is brown, about 8 minutes. The meat should feel springy to the touch, juicy and not overly firm.

Reduce the oven to 300 degrees. In a thick bottomed casserole pot, heat the remaining coconut oil and saute up the onion and cayenne pepper. Add in the garlic and cook for another 3 minutes. Add the tomatoes and paprika, and simmer for 10-15 minutes. Add in the lamb, squash, almond meal, chocolate, water, and a teaspoon of salt. Stir until the chocolate has melted. Cover the casserole dish and place in the oven for 1 1/4 hours.

Remove from the oven and serve with fresh bread or organic corn tortillas and a green salad.

**To get your in greens and make it a one pot meal, throw in sautéed kale when you add in the squash.

Coconut Sweet Potato and Kale Stew

2009-10-01T16:12:00.000-07:00

I am all about the coconut. You might say, I'm crazy for coconut. Coconut oil, butter, milk, I use it all. For years I avoided coconut, having been persuaded that it's high levels of saturated fat would harden my arteries and leave me dead by 32. (Yes, I was a hypochondriac and easily influenced). My first bite of coconut oil came 3 years ago when I took a friend's advice to use it in a saute. I had done a good deal of research on coconut oil's healing properties (aids in digestion/absorption of vitamins and minerals, is loaded with lauric acid that prevents viral and bacterial infection) but I still couldn't let go of the fact that it might kill me. "One time," I thought. "What's cooking with coconut oil one time going to hurt?" The moment the oil hit the pan I was a goner. The amazing aroma of coconut-y goodness filled the house and I was transported to a tropical island of beautiful sand dunes and beaches. And that was just the smell, people. I hadn't even tasted it yet! The taste as you can imagine was terrific and since then coconut oil has been a staple in my cooking ever since.

Let's just quickly debunk the myth around saturated fat. Shockingly, saturated fat is essential for proper body function. Saturated fatty acids aid in hormone production, strengthen cellular membranes, and stabilize proteins to support the immune system. Now, don't get worried. I'm not talking about low quality fat from antibiotic stuffed, commercially raised animals and dairy products. But rather the good omega 3's and saturated fats prevalent in organic, pastured raised live stock, butter, and yes, coconut oil. Another reason to buy local pasture raised meat: Their fat is free of dangerous pharmaceuticals. Antibiotics and hormones are stored in the fat cells of commercially raised animals which renders their meat and fat toxic to us. It is this chemically laden fat that endangers our health and must be avoided.

So enough preaching about fat. Here is a dish I demoed for my cooking class just this week. It is a perfect fall one pot meal that has everything you need. Yummy coconut, greens, beans, and sweet potato. Doesn't get much better than that!

Coconut Sweet Potato and Kale Stew

Don't be overwhelmed by the number of ingredients. This dish comes together very quickly.

Serves 4

2 teaspoons unrefined virgin coconut oil

2 cups onion, diced

2 teaspoons sea salt, plus additional to taste

3 cups sweet potato, peeled and cubed

1 can garbanzo beans, rinsed and drained

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 small jalapeno pepper, minced (optional)

1 tablespoon fresh ginger, minced

1 teaspoon coriander, ground

1/2 teaspoon turmeric

1 cinnamon stick, broken in half

1 can organic coconut milk

1 bunch of kale, washed and chopped

squeeze of lemon

1/2 cup cilantro, roughly chopped

1/4 cup slivered almonds, toasted

Heat oil in a good sized pot over medium heat. Add onion and a pinch of salt and saute for about 5 minutes, until the onion is translucent. Add sweet potato, garbanzo beans, garlic, jalapeno, ginger, coriander, turmeric, and cinnamon and saute for 2 minutes. Add 2 cups of water, coconut milk and salt to the pot and bring to a boil. Reduce to a simmer, cover, and cook for 12-15 minutes.

While the sweet potato is cooking, wash and chop the kale. You may discard the stems but I like to keep them. Chop the greens into bite size pieces. Add the kale to the pot and simmer, uncovered, for 8-10 minutes. Greens should be tender and the sweet potato soft. Adjust the seasoning to taste and remove the cinnamon stick.

Just before serving, squeeze in lemon juice and top with fresh cilantro and toasted almonds.

Sauteed Purslane and Tomatoes

2009-09-29T11:50:00.001-07:00

Purslane is one of those greens that rarely makes it to our plates. And why is that? It's an extremely versatile vegetable, can be eaten in salads or sauteed, and has one of the highest vegetable concentrations of those infallible omega 3's we know and love. I discovered purslane about 3 years ago when I happened upon it at the stand of 4 Sisters Farms.

Slightly sour like sorrel and quite crunchy, I was definitely intrigued. It's rare for me to find a vegetable that hasn't passed my lips so this was a triumph! A triumph that I kept to myself for the next 36 months. I don't know why I never shared this delicious exploit with Gray. I think it goes back to my issue with sharing. Perhaps it's that this new food revelation was just for me. Gray has beer, croissants, pizza, which subsequently means purslane is all mine! (Not that I'm against Gray's indulgences, they just don't work for my delicate system. Can you hear the tears dropping on the keyboard?)

So, last week I bought another beautiful bunch of my favorite secret green and decided it was time to bring my horded treat to our shared dinner table. The dish came together in about 6 minutes flat. Onions from the pantry, a few leftover dry-farmed tomatoes, chopped purslane and that was it. The greens softened just enough while still maintaining their toothiness. I served it with eggs and roasted potatoes (a quick dinner staple) though it would also be an ideal topping for brown rice, quinoa, or French green lentils. Enjoy and happy purslane exploring!

Sautéed Purslane and Tomatoes

1 medium onion, diced

4 tablespoons of olive oil, divided

2 medium tomatoes, cored and finely chopped

1 bunch of purslane, washed and chopped

3 tablespoons of water

sea salt to taste

3-4 tablespoons fresh cilantro, chopped

In a saute pan, heat 2 tablespoons of olive oil. Add the onion and a pinch of salt and saute for 5 minutes, until onions become translucent. Throw in the chopped tomatoes with their juices and cook together another 5 minutes. Add the purslane, water, another pinch of salt and mix thoroughly. Reduce the heat to low, place a lid over the pan and let cook for 7 minutes. Remove the lid and stir the mixture together. Season with salt to taste and drizzle with the remaining olive oil. Top with the cilantro and serve. Enjoy!

Herb Roasted Chicken

2009-09-22T13:41:00.000-07:00

When I gave up chicken 7 years ago I was sure I'd never go back. Meat isn't good for me anyway, I reasoned. But to tell the truth, I was simply chickened out. At the time, chicken was the only animal protein I ate (having decided years earlier beef was a death sentence.) Being a weight obsessed collegiate, I also dabbled in the "Atkins thing", which meant eating protein, aka CHICKEN, everyday. Each week I bought a bag of frozen Tyson's chicken breasts to pick at over the next 7 days. No wonder I was insane. You can only eat chicken stir-fry so many times before you lose it. And I know you are going to think this is totally "woo woo" but I started acting like a crazy chicken too! I was irritable, easily flustered, and ran around campus frazzled like, you guessed it, a chicken with my head cut off.

It felt really good giving up animal flesh. I felt light and energized in my body and got to tell people, "oh no, I don't eat THAT." It was self-righteous and I liked it! Yet once I started eating meat again I still couldn't stomach chicken. I ate beef, lamb, even goat but there was no way I was headed down the chicken path...until I went to Zuni Cafe. I was having a lovely lunch of local anchovies and salad with Jacqueline (crispy chicken skin girl) when the next table's waiter delivered their order of roasted chicken with Tuscan-style bread salad. I almost blurted out, "Excuse me, that order was actually for me," but instead I bit my tongue and shot our neighbors nasty glances as they inhaled that sumptuous chicken. That was it for me! I was ready for a little chick chick. Of course, it took 6 months and 1 meat book later to actually make chicken but hey, it was worth the wait.

I've made this recipe a few times and it is always a hit. The traditional recipe calls for white white but I prefer using verjus. It's sweet clean flavor does something magical with the natural fat and juices of the chicken. Enjoy!

Herb Roasted Chicken

Recipe adapted from The River Cottage Meat Book by Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall

Don't be intimidated by his 3 phase roasting technique. It's quite easy and completely worth it!

One 3-4 pound organic roasting chicken

4 tbs. softened organic butter or olive oil

2-3 handfuls of fresh herbs such as parsley, thyme, chives, cilantro etc., chopped

1 garlic clove, crushed

Sea salt and pepper

1/2 cup of verjus (if not available use white wine or lemon juice)

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Remove the bird from the fridge an hour or two before cooking. Remove any string and place the bird in a baking/roasting dish (I used my le cruset). Spread out its legs away from the body and enlarge the opening of the body with your fingers to allow hot air to circulate inside the bird. (I'm used to this step now but at first it was a little gross.)

Place butter in a bowl and toss in your herbs and salt. Mix well and smear the mixture all over the bird, inside and out. Place the bird in the oven and cook for 25-30 minutes (phase one).

Turn down the oven to 350 degrees, add the verjus to the pan (do not pour over the bird) and cook for another 35-45 minutes (phase two). To test the chicken for doneness, pierce the point where the thigh meets the breast. Juices should run clear.

Open the oven door half way, turn off the heat, and let the bird sit for another 15-20 minutes (phase 3) before carving.

Carve the bird in the pan allowing the pieces to fall into the juice. I served this with a green salad and a giant Acme olive loaf to soak up the juices. So good!

Late Summer Succotash

2009-09-08T17:32:00.000-07:00

I can't even say the name of this dish without Gray bursting into giggle hysterics like a 5 year old girl. "You said SUCK-O-TASH....hehehehehe" Ah, my dear immature husband. What am I saying, I think it's pretty funny too. I made the most killer Jamie-version succotash last weekend. My parents were visiting and I wanted to make something special. (I try to make particularly good food when they come up for the ONLY way to my father's heart is through his stomach. He's still talking about the roasted chicken I made on his last visit.) Traditional succotash is simply a butter or lard laden saute of corn and lima beans, though any number of bean varietals will do. I actually bought green beans for the dish but finding them incredibly tough and ultimately inedible, I bequeathed them to the compost pile (quick tip: taste your green beans at the market, before you by them).

This may appear un-American but I'm actually not a huge corn fan. OK, let me re-phrase. Since becoming such an over-used, genetically modified cash crop I've had a hard time stomaching it. You can pretty much guarantee if your corn is not organic, it's genetically modified. I don't want to go off the GMO deep end here but let me just say this. There are a number of reasons to avoid GMO's but my biggest one is that these frankenfoods are new to the food chain. We have no idea what long term effects they may have on our bodies and I'm personally not interested in being a guinea pig. For more information on genetically modified foods check out Responsible Technology. I highly recommend it.

OK, back to my succotash. Since finding delicious organic corn at the farmer's market, I've released my corn hate and generously let it back into my life. And what a happy girl I am! Here is the recipe for my late summer succotash. It's sweet, rich, and makes you thank the farmers and soil for their brilliant effort. Enjoy!

Late Summer Succotash

I used basil as my herb of choice but fresh dill or parsley would be great as well. Play around and discover the version you like best.

Serves 4

1 large red onion, chopped

2 1/2 cups kale, chopped

4 tablespoons ghee (or organic butter), divided

3 ears of corn, kernels cut off with a knife

1/2 cup purple basil, torn

sea salt to taste

In a large skillet, heat 2 tablespoons of ghee. Add in the red onion and kale and saute until slightly softened, about 5 minutes. Toss in the corn kernels and cook together until kernels are warmed through but maintain their crunch, 6-7 minutes. Add in the remaining ghee and mix thoroughly. Season with salt and top with purple basil. Serve immediately. Enjoy!

Fish En Papillote with Baja Spices

2009-09-03T13:23:00.001-07:00

I know the name sounds fancy but it's simply "fish in parchment". I say that now having made fish en papillote, but before that I was terrified of any recipe requiring parchment paper. For some reason I associated parchment paper with French cooking and French cooking with complex, difficult, and ultimately aggravating recipes. Well, I could not have been more wrong. About this recipe, anyway. Cooking fish in parchment is not only easy, its quick, a cinch to clean, and produces soft, succulent fish. Especially when using a non-oily fish such as snapper, sole, or ocean perch, creating a steam bath promises the fish won't dry out or become tough (two occurrences I've experiences a number of times.)

The beauty of this recipe is you can use any spice combo you like. The spices below are fantastic as is a mixture of turmeric, coriander, fresh ginger and garlic, or lime zest, garlic, cumin and chili flakes. Enjoy!

Fish En Papillote with Baja Spices

1 pound red snapper fillets, rinsed and patted dry (you can also use cod, ocean perch, or any other firm fleshed white fish)

2 cloves of garlic, minced

1 tsp. chili powder

1/2 tsp. cumin, ground

1/2 tsp. oregano, fresh or dried

1/2 tsp. salt

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees and get out a large baking dish. Cut two pieces of parchment to fit the baking dish. Mix together garlic, chili powder, cumin, oregano, and salt in a small bowl. Place one piece of parchment into the dish and lay the fish on the parchment. Sprinkle spices over the fish and cover the fish with the second piece of parchment. Bring the edges of the parchment pieces together and fold under to enclose the fish.

Bake for 15-18 minutes. Be sure to open the package carefully to let the steam escape. Serve with corn tortillas and guacamole or with steamed quinoa and gingered slaw.

Cumin Chickpea and Tomato Quinoa Salad

2009-08-26T15:04:00.000-07:00

I'm sure you've figured this out but I think chickpeas (aka garbanzo beans) are quite divine. They are so delicious and diverse, I could eat them everyday in a different form. Their innate starchiness makes them perfect for roasting and provides a distinct satiety needed in vegetarian dishes. Here is a recipe I made last week for my Wellness for Life cooking class. When making it for my audience I used cherry tomatoes however in preparing it again the other night I used heirloom tomatoes, compliments of River Dog Farm.

You only need 1 cup of tomatoes but buy extra for a beautiful panzanella salad or simply sliced heirlooms with fruity olive oil, basil, and sea salt. The point is, tomatoes are only around once a year and now is the time to eat up. Enjoy!

Cumin Chickpea and Tomato Quinoa Pilaf

Serves 4 as a side dish

2 cups of water

1 cup quinoa, picked over and rinsed

1 15 ounce can of chickpeas, rinsed and drained

1-2 medium red onions, sliced into half moons

3 tbs. extra virgin olive oil plus an extra drizzle

Juice of 1/2 a lemon

1 tsp. cumin seeds

1/2 tsp. coriander, ground

Dash of cayenne pepper

1 cup cherry or heirloom tomatoes, diced

1/4 cup fresh parley, chopped

Sea salt to taste

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. In a medium sauce pan add quinoa, water and a pinch of salt and bring to a boil. Reduce to a simmer and cook for 15 minutes.

In the meantime mix together chickpeas, onion, oil, lemon juice, cumin seeds, coriander, cayenne, and 1/4 tsp. sea salt and place in a baking dish. Put the dish in the oven and roast for 30 minutes, stirring half way through.

When the beans are done, transfer to a ceramic or stainless steel bowl. Mix in quinoa and add the tomatoes and parsley. Season with salt and an extra drizzle of olive oil to taste.

Melons, Green Beans and Purple Basil on the Santa Barbara Coast

2009-08-24T10:33:00.001-07:00

As a youth, every summer was dotted with trips to my grandmother's beach house in Santa Barbara. We visited year around (it is California after all) however there was always something special about vacationing there during the warmest months. Though more business woman than cook, I have distinct memories of my grandmother's glazed chicken drummettes, pea salad with onions and mayo, and lots of melon. To this day, not much has changed. Before heading out on Friday, I picked up a beautiful Crenshaw melon from Happy Boy Farms at the Thursday Berkeley Farmer's Market. I wanted to bring something nostalgic and what do you get the woman who has everything? Melon, of course. Had I thought my plan through I'd have remembered my grandmother's aptitude for preparedness, but I guess I forgot that point. After a beautiful 6 hour drive down the coast we pulled up to the house. With melon in hand, I walked straight through the brightly lit foyer and into the kitchen. Unfortunately as I turned the corner I saw not one, but two HUGE melons sitting on the marble counter. SO as you can imagine, just like the old days at grandma's beach house, we had lots of melon.

Where do green beans come in, you ask? The next day my grandmother, Gray and I went to the Downtown Santa Barbara Farmer's Market. This trip again brought up lots of foodie memories for it was my grandmother who took me to my first farmer's market. Being a child who took every experience at face value, I thought farmer's markets only ever happened in Santa Barbara and that sugar snap peas (my favorite farmer's market purchase) could also only be bought there. I remember eating them until my tummy hurt, knowing I could not get them anywhere else.

I truly forgot what a brilliant market it is. Granted, I love my bay area markets but Santa Barbara's is definitely a close second. After the melon mishap I decided to make dinner for my grandmother, her husband, Gray, and my parents, you know, as a thank you gesture. And to show my grandmother what kind of a cook I've become.

The first thing to catch my eye were these gorgeous green beans.

Beautiful, right? I know, I could barely contain myself. I grabbed a bundle of nearby fresh shallots while Gray spotted a bunch of purple basil. Green bean saute? All set! I swear by the end of shopping my grandmother pronounced me "food possessed!" And so what if I am? Home we went to cook up a storm. Next to this amazing dish I served chili and garlic steamed red snapper (recipe from my beautiful Mom, on its way), cumin scented jasmine rice, green salad and an amazing view.

Dinner was simply delicious, made even better by the company. As the evening wined down and the older adults retired I couldn't shake the feeling that tonight had been special. A rare treat to cook for my grandmother in her own kitchen and repay her with the same love and nourishment she has bestowed upon me over the last 30 years. I hope we can do it again soon but if not, this is just another memory locked in the vault under the file "Summers at Grandma's Beach house." Enjoy.

Green Beans with Purple Basil

1 pound green beans, stems trimmed

3-4 tablespoons olive oil

1 bunch fresh shallots with greens attached or 3-4 without, thinly sliced

1/2 cup fresh mint, leaves torn

1/2 cup purple basil, leaves torn

juice of 1/2 a lemon

sea salt

ground pepper

In a large pot, bring two quarts of water to a boil. Add a pinch of salt and drop in the green beans. Cook for about 2 minutes, until they brighten up but are still a bit crunchy. Drain the beans and run under cold water to stop cooking.

In a medium saute pan, heat up the olive oil. Add shallots and salt/pepper and saute until the shallots soften. Turn off the heat and toss in the beans, mint, basil, and lemon and mix thoroughly. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Enjoy!

Zucchini Tahini Gratin

2009-08-17T12:11:00.000-07:00

I have always been a Mediterranean/Middle Eastern food fan. Maybe it's that hummus was a staple growing up. In his youthful hippie days (or should I say daze), my Dad wanted to move to Israel and live on a kibbutz. Unfortunately my grandparents nixed that idea, leaving my father to live vicariously through consuming copious amounts of tabbouleh, babaganoush, and hummus instead. Hey, it worked out for me and I should thank my parents for the early introduction to ethnic cuisine. That being said, I was definitely the odd kid in Oxnard, CA who ate "weird white paste on pocket bread".

A primary ingredient in hummus and in Middle Eastern cooking in general is sesame. Sesame oil, sesame seeds, sesame paste or tahini, the little seed is found everywhere. When I stopped eating dairy about 6 years ago tahini became my go-to food. It's thick, creamy texture is an ideal substitute for regular cream, sour cream, and cream cheese.

So, last week Gray and I both had a craving for tahini sauce. A favorite winter dish in our house is sweet potatoes baked in tahini so I decided to play around with a summer version. Using seasonal zucchini, I thought to layer it up between hefty dollops of savory tahini sauce and fresh herbs. WOW! Now, I know something is good when Gray can only get a few words out after tasting it. His first word after the initial bite was, "Amazing!" Second word after his next bite, "Unbelievable!" Needless to say, we've got a new favorite summer dish. Feel free to use any fresh herbs you like. I used cilantro and mint but fresh parsley and basil would be stellar too. You could also substitute eggplant for the zucchini. Just be sure to let the slices drain a bit on a paper towel after your saute them. Enjoy!

Zucchini Tahini Gratin

3 large zucchini, ends trimmed and cut vertically into 1/4 inch pieces

4 tsp. ghee, divided (you could also use olive oil, though it doesn't crisp up as nicely)

a little less than 1/2 cup of tahini

zest of one lemon

2 tbs. fresh lemon juice

4 tbs. water

1 large yellow onion, cut into half moons

1/2 cup cilantro, chopped

1/4 cup mint, chopped

sea salt to taste

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees and get out an 8 in. round baking dish with a lid (I used my Le Cruset but any equivalent round or square dish will do)

Heat 2 tsp. of ghee in a large saute pan or skillet. Place zucchini slices into the pan and sprinkle with sea salt. Cook on each side for about 5 minutes or until they are nicely golden brown. Once the zucchini is done cooking, place the slices on a paper towel to soak up any added moisture. (This will make sure the gratin is not too watery.)

While the zucchini is browning, make the tahini sauce. Whisk together tahini, lemon zest and juice, and a touch of salt. Add water to thin the mixture. You want the sauce to resemble a thick Ranch dressing. Not too thin or too thick. Keep adding water until you reach the desired consistency.

Once the zucchini is done, using the same pan, heat 2 tsp. of ghee and toss in your chopped onions. Cook for about 10-12 minutes or until they've started to caramelized.

Now it's time to assemble. Cover the bottom of the baking dish with zucchini. Make surethe slices are packed tight so as not to see the bottom of the dish. Now add a thin layer of onions, a few tablespoons of herbs, and a thin layer of tahini sauce. Continue with another layer of zucchini, then onions, herbs, and sauce. Continue layering until all ingredients are gone. You want to finish with a last drizzle of tahini sauce.

Cover and bake for about 15 minutes. Let it sit for 5 minutes to let the gratin settle. Serve with a little extra tahini sauce on the side, just in case. Enjoy!

Plum Compote with Lavendar and Cream

2009-08-10T16:52:00.000-07:00

What kind of a Health and Lifestyle Expert am I, giving out dessert recipes! First the Star Anise and Honey Tea Biscuits and now this! Let me say that just because I'm against white, refined, bleached sugar does not mean I forgo all sweetness. In fact, we need sugar to provide daily energy and sustain proper body function. That's why there are so many locations to find natural sugars whether in fruit, vegetables, whole grains or legumes. And in fact you will notice that summer fruits tend to have higher concentrations of water and sugar to help us maintain our energy during the hotter months. It's all part of nature's grand plan.

So, back to desserts.... It's safe to say that when it comes to food, particularly free organic, locally raised food, I have no shame at all. For example,when our friend Eddie mentioned his overflowing fruit-laden plum tree, I rudely exclaimed, "Can I have some!!!" A more civilized person might have waited for an offer, but not me. The second he mentioned his tree thoughts of plum crisp, plum cookies, and plum jam raced across my mind. With plums, the possibilities are endless. Luckily my rudeness paid off and a week later I had 7 pound of plums. No joke. And let me say that Eddie is one talented urban farmer because they are the most amazing plums I've ever had. Sweet yet tart, juicy with a bit a crunch... just spectacular!

I made this dessert as a treat for Gray a few nights ago and have subsequently made it almost every night since (We do have 7 pounds to get through). I prefer the compote chilled, giving it a jello like consistency, but warm is quite good too. In this recipe I serve it over a cookie but I also ate the leftover compote straight up for breakfast yesterday morning. Needless to say, it's good anytime.

Plum Compote with Lavender and Cream

5-6 very ripe and juicy plums, pitted and cubed

1 tablespoon unpasteurized honey (optional)

1 teaspoon cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon fresh lavender (can use dried as well)

1 1/2 tablespoons Eden kudzu powder (natural thickening agent that is better than cornstarch)

5 tablespoons of water

1 pint organic heavy whipping cream (I like Clover or Strauss Creamery)

1 tablespoon rapadura (optional)

For the Compote

Place the cubed plums in a small sauce pan. Add the honey, cinnamon and two tablespoons of water and bring to a low simmer. Let the fruit cook for 4-5 minutes. While the fruit is cooking, mix kudzu with the remaining water and stir until the kudzu is completely dissolved. Add the kudzu mixture to the fruit, stir well, and let it cook for another 3-4 minutes, or until the fruit begins to thicken. Once the fruit has thickened, take it off the heat and serve immediately or place in the refrigerator and let it chill for 2-3 hours.

For the Whipped Cream

Chill the cream and the beaters or whisk in the fridge for 10 to 20 minutes. Pour the whipping cream and sugar into the bowl and beat until it begins to thicken. Once the cream begins to form peaks that gently fold over when the beaters are removed, you are done. If using an electric mixer, start on low speed to prevent splattering, then speed up. (We learned the hard way.) If you are using a whisk, I'm sorry! This will be a serious workout for your arm, but well worth it. You’ll know if you have over-beaten the cream if it starts to turn to butter.

Place one tea biscuit in a small bowl and ladle over the plum compote. Top with a dollop of freshly made whipped cream and you are good to go. Happy Summer!