Comunidad Health Foods

I have a confession to make. I tend to avoid doling out personal information on this website, keeping as much anonymity as possible. For a while, it was because I hadn't really told anyone about this, and was still somewhat embarrassed of the fact that I was pouring the culinary chamber of my heart out to the vast black hole that is the internet. It's not exactly a common pastime for many 21-year-olds. I think, though, that a little personal divulgence is, if not necessary, beneficial. A lot of the things I make, I have chosen to make simply because they sound like they'd be good; but then, there are others that have a little bit more of a thought process behind them, a little bit more of a story. So, rather than just rambling on a little bit about the flavors and what I'd do differently next time, and then regurgitating a recipe that you can likely find elsewhere (although I am pretty proud of the many Floptimism Originals I've been coming up with lately), I'd like to start making more of a connection to my food. From time to time, at least.

This, if you hadn't already gathered, is to be one of those times. You see, here's where my confession comes in: I have high cholesterol. Now, I know most of you have never seen me before, but I'm not exactly the walking image of high cholesterol: young, active, an aspiring nutritionist who steps on a scale and just barely hits the low end of her IBW - I mean, I haven't had fast food in almost 2 years, darn it! Most people thought I was crazy for even wanting labs done at all, but, being the preventative-oriented kinda gal that I am, I wanted to know my baselines. You know, just in case. So, with my last physical, I had Daddy Floptimism sit in a room and give me words of encouragement while a nurse drew way too many viles of my blood. And, lo and behold, I have high cholesterol. High triglycerides, to be more precise.

High triglycerides, though they are a measure of fat in the body, tend to come more from a diet high in carbohydrates than one that's high in fat. When asked by Daddy Floptimism if I ate a high-carb diet, I immediately got defensive and said, "No! Of course not!" How could my diet be anything but perfect? I mean, really! But then, I thought about it. Breakfast - dairy + fruit + grain = all carbs. Midmorning snack: fruit or granola bar = all carbs. Lunch - sandwich, a salad with dried/fresh fruit, an omelet and half a bagel...carbs. Dinner - grain and, more importantly, beans when I so often at school opted for a meat-free meal = carbs. Dessert - cake, brownies, cookies, ice cream...yup, carbs. Yes, I ate veggies, too. Yes, I ate protein, too. Yes, fruits and dairy have things other than carbohydrates in them. My diet wasn't nutritionally devoid, but was it high carb? Yes, yes it was.

This news came very conveniently at the start of the New Year, so I decided, being young and active and whatnot, I would make a couple of small changes to my diet, repeat the lab work at my next physical, and see if there were improvements. I'm not high-risk; my cholesterol is not through the roof and I'm not at an age or a weight where it's an immediate concern. So, I would move little by little. I made goals for myself: (1) Eat a non-carb breakfast (ie eggs + veggies) for breakfast 1x / week (2) Eat a non/low-carb lunch 2x/week (3) Eat a non/low-carb dinner 1x/week, and (4) choose a low carb snack between lunch and dinner at least 4x/week.

What all of this labwork and goal-setting means to you is, well, you're going to be getting some delicious, filling low- and non-carb dishes from me every now and then! Now, I'm no proponent of the atkins diet - carbs are super important. I am in no way cutting out carbohydrates from my diet or advocating that anyone else should. I also should probably ethically include a disclaimer that, since I am not yet an actual dietician, if you're in a situation similar to mine, you should see a health care professional before jumping on board with me. I'm merely going to be adding to this blog an array of options for people who try to control the amount of carbohydrates they consume - whether it be for weight loss, cholesterol, diabetes, or even celiac disease, since a non-carbohydrate meal will be inherently gluten-free.

Phew! All of that, and I still haven't started telling you about this delicious recipe for eggs that I made last week. So let's get to the good stuff, shall we? When planning my low/non-carb dinner for the week, I have often been looking into my breakfast folder of saved recipes; specifically, the eggs. My egg exposure so far has been fairly limited. I like omelettes and scrambled eggs, and I'll even eat a hard boiled one, though I couldn't really be bothered to make them myself. Anything where the yolk is still really in-tact and not all mixed up with the white, and you've lost me. But, Martha Stewart knows her stuff, and I'm all about trying new things, so I decided to take the plunge and make a baked egg, separate yolk and white and all. And you know what? I am so glad that I did.

Now, for anyone who has read more than, oh I don't know, two of my blog entries, you should have noticed a trend in what makes a good recipe for me: ease of preparation, complex flavors/colors/textures, and not too much salt. This recipe has all three of those things! First, it came together in a snap. I didn't even make a huge mess that night in the kitchen, which is a double bonus. Second, the flavor was spot-on and the textures were wonderful: a sweet tomato base with rosemary mixed in so that it comes through perfectly, creamy (and fully cooked!) yolks with smooth, almost hard-boiled-like whites...really delicious, but also really simple. It would be such a perfect recipe for a big family breakfast, maybe if the in-laws or the cousins or aunts and uncles are over for a holiday and you want them to wake up to something special. But, I have to say, I thought it was pretty awesome as a dinner entree on a cold, January night. For a version that includes carbohydrates, a warm, hearty piece of crusty bread to scoop it all up with would be excellent, but even though that thought was on my mind while making this, I did not feel deprived eating it as it was.

Apparently, I enjoyed it so much that I never even considered taking a picture of it! C'est la vie. There has been a lot going on here in the Floptimism Kitchen and the Floptimism Apartment, so you will have to forgive me. Martha Stewart has some very lovely photos, however, so you can follow the link to her site and oogle at those. I promise, mine looked every bit as professional and appetizing as hers. In fact, I think I will let you head on over there for the recipe, too, seeing as how I've already written a near-novel and the only changes I made were to make an individual portion of it (very easy to do, by the way) and I used whole, peeled tomatoes and crushed them myself.

Baked Eggs in a Tomato-Parmesan Sauce, courtesy of Martha Stewart

For some reason, I feel like all the recipes I have been looking at lately have been for fajitas. I know this isn't actually true, but I have been faced with a great many of them. So, in case I'm not so crazy and you, too, have noticed several enticing fajita recipes out there, I figured I would tack one more onto your list. Now, I made this recipe a long time ago - as in, before I got the wacky idea to actually write detailed notes on the procedure and end result. I have a list of ingredients that I am basing this post on, and not a very intricately described one, either. But we'll go with it, because fajitas aren't really the kind of recipes that need to be rigid, which is exactly what makes them so perfect in my book.

This recipe produces a fresh, creamy wrap full of chicken, veggies, and spices that will make you feel like you're indulging...when you only kind of are. Yes, you could take the recipe I am about to share with you and add guacamole, cheese, and full-fat versions of things like sour cream. And you know what, it would probably be out of this world. I chose to scale this back a little bit, simplifying the ingredient list and trimming down the recipe to make it a little bit less decadent. That's the kind of versatility I'm talking about when I say that fajitas don't need to be rigid, or when I tell you about all of those other Mexican-themed meals I have become so enthralled with lately. They're ideal mid-week slump meals, when you have ingredients on hand and need some help piecing them all together, and yet they're equally nice when you go out of your way to the grocery store to find your inspiration.

The Method

Anyone with Diabetes, high triglycerides, or an affinity for Dr. Atkins should just stop reading now. Even I find myself looking back on this indulgently carb-loaded meal and ask myself what I could have been thinking, throwing all of these ingredients together. I actually do remember my thought process and rationale, but I don't think that I would repeat the combination. Would I eat these two dishes again, separately? Absolutely! They were both delicious, different, and decadent - three words I love to hear associated with food. So, if my introduction to this meal did not yet scare you away, I ask you to hear me out for just a little bit longer, because it very well may be worth it.

One of my Everyday with Rachael Ray magazines presented me with a recipe for a Chicken & Pear Panini that I had to try. Chicken, sauteed onions, gooey cheese and sweet pears: it just sounded like an awesome and intriguingly original combination. This sandwich, I do not jest, delivered. The flavors were rich and worked extremely well together, with the pear bringing out the sweetness in the onion, the chicken and cheese playing off of that sweetness with their savory notes, and the chewy, nutty whole grain bread factor really rounding out this panini's arsenal of sensory explosives. There was only one of my five senses that was disappointed in this meal, and that was my sense of sight. Think about it: chicken breast, bread, pears, onions, cheese. Where's the color? The magazine said to pair it with an escarole salad which certainly would have helped, but I would still like to see more color in the actual panini - maybe some spinach? Aside from that, the only other complaint I had was the amount of oil, which I successfully (I think, anyway) halved.

But other than those two things, this is a must-make sandwich - again, if you feel that you can brave the carbohydrate-laden ingredient list (but here's a tip - use whole grain bread and the fiber will help slow those rambunctious sugar molecules down, and then it's really not so bad! Oh, and maybe don't pear it with starchy fries like I did).

Speaking of those fries, even if you don't make them as a side dish for this sandwich, I still have to tell you about them - first of all, because they're included in the picture of this meal and second of all, because they were pretty good. They didn't get as crisp as I would have liked, but keeping them in the oven for a little longer should do the trick. I actually don't know that pears have the ability to become crispy in an oven, but sweet potatoes do, and even they should have had a little longer to cook. You could try roasting them and then broiling them at the end to see if that helps the process any, too. Just some suggestions.

The first semester of my Freshman year of college, I went to school in New York - Ithaca, to be exact. It took me a grand total of I think 2.5 months to realize I wasn't even going to make it to January there, much less through the entire second semester. It rained or snowed every day after late September, and the gusts of wind were enough to freeze your lungs and knock you out cold. Sunny days in Ithaca are beautiful, but too few and far between to outweigh every other rotten weather day hovering atop that small mountain. So, I transferred. Now, of course, the winter here is beginning to feel much too akin to that of Ithaca than I would like, and although the sun is out today, I still find myself dreading the lab I need to walk to in just under an hour from now.

This winter calls for heavy dishes - and I don't necessarily mean calorically dense. I mean, rib-sticking recipes: soup, casseroles, stews, chili. Homemade bread to get the rib stickage factor up another ten notches. Although this recipe for chickpea casserole doesn't have a homemade bread component, it does throw some hearty pasta into it, so carb lovers should have no fear. I'm sure that true carb lovers would still add a loaf of homemade dough to this menu, but I can assure you that it certainly doesn't need it.

As it is, exactly as it is, this casserole is everything you need to forget about the harsh winter raging outside your kitchen. There's no heavy cream involved, just sour cream and some parmesan, so you can play around with the literal heaviness of it; but either way, it's thick and creamy, and doesn't have to be too sinful. Instead, it's savory and a little salty, creamy and indulgent, and warm and filling.

I've made this twice now, and the first time could not get it to thicken up. It wound up being a soup that still tasted incredible, but lacked a little bit of the heartiness that a thicker consistency brings. The second time around I was able to get it to thicken better, partially by pureeing the chickpeas first and also by allowing for more reducing time. I've come to find that the canned parmesan is much saltier and stronger than the Real Deal, so if you're using that you might want to decrease the amount by a little bit. I'd also encourage throwing in some spinach or pureed or chopped veggies (cauliflower, pepper, asparagus...), and maybe even slightly increasing the amount of chickpeas and pasta (though not by too much). I made a few adjustments, some out of laziness, some just to try to use up similar products that I had in my pantry.

There are always a couple of nights each week where I don't get back to my apartment until after 6:00, and no matter how much I love to cook and how much I hate those frozen, microwavable dinners...I'm hungry. I don't want to wait an hour to eat. I want to eat, digest, and still have time to eat a nice little sinful dessert before bedtime - scratch that, before 2 hours before bedtime, since I try to be good even with my sinful dessert and give my belly time to digest before it switches into sleep mode. Sometimes, I do pop a meal into the microwave, and sometimes, that meal is not one I had prepared earlier on in the week and frozen myself. However, what's even better than that is finding a recipe that you can make, fresh, in no time at all.

This recipe for Taco Pasta is by far one of the easiest, simplest, and most delicious recipes I've devised. It takes no more than five minutes to throw together once the pasta has cooked, which means you're looking at, what? A 20-30 minute meal, tops? It may not solve the dinner situation for someone coming home at 8pm, but it's perfect for those 6:30-7 nights. Plus, it's pretty healthy, heavy enough to fill you up but not so much that you feel gross about eating it so late at night, and it has tons of flavor. I wouldn't have it any other way, come on! Have you noticed my opinion on bland food? It doesn't fly in the Floptimism Kitchen. Period.

I tend to do a lot of "Mexican" themed dishes. Really, they're all some form of variation on each other: burritos, fajitas, taco salad, taco pasta, my Mexican Fiesta Omelet. I do enjoy many other cuisines, but this is a set of ingredients that I tend to keep in my kitchen more than others (except, maybe, Italian), and most of the ingredients pack a big flavor punch with limited extraneous calories and prep time. Plus, I'm a one-person household, basically, so when I buy a jar of something like salsa, it gets used for many meals until it's gone. But beyond that, I've found Mexican foods in general really great for home cooking. You can also easily do vegetarian with them, throwing in some black beans, or scrap that and include any kind of meat your heart desires. It's flexible that way. Plus, it's a safe choice, despite having that creative element in your ability to mess around with some ingredients based on what you have on hand. And if you're walking in at 6:30 and want dinner a-sap, it might not be the best night to toy around with flavors. This will give you something reliable and fast, no questions asked.

Taco Pasta Toss

The Ingredients*

A while ago, I made fresh pasta for the first time. So far, it has also been the only time, but after seeing how easy (and fun!) it is, I not only plan to do it more often - getting a little more creative, perhaps - but encourage you to give it a shot, too. Now, I made the pasta as part of a cooking class that I assist at. Now, forget, for a moment, the irony that the assistant had never made the recipe before as well as the irony of what I'm about to confess to you: I didn't know what to do with the pasta once I had flattened it out. Being bold and humble, for once, I did not just trudge on with my gut instinct; no, I asked my instructor what to do if I wanted to make lasagna the following night. She explained that when she makes lasagna from fresh pasta, she likes to layer the pasta with vegetables, sauce, and cheese in little, personalized ramekins for each guest. She said nothing about preboiling.

Perhaps it was something that was meant to be inferred. I, of course, took her word straight. I layered the pasta in beautiful folds with vegetables, meatballs, sauce, and cheese, and I popped them in the oven to bake as though I didn't have a care in the world. Alright, I was a little hesitant, with the no pre-boiling step, but I forged on. The little ramekins cooked up wonderfully, too! I even tied one particularly long strand of pasta into a bow at the top. I mean really, when I say that I had a good time, I wasn't kidding. These ramekins were little jewels, mini works of art.

The lasagna, however - for those of you who are at my level of cooking and still don't know how it must have turned out - was not what you would call traditional. The noodles never softened as they would have during a little dip in a pool of boiling water. But do I throw in the towel and hide my face from you, pretending it never happened? Mais non! I excitedly bit into one and actually enjoyed it. The casseroles were crisp at the tops and doughy in the centers, piping hot from the sauce and the cheese and beyond savory from all of the vegetables and chopped meatballs I had thrown in. I loved it! Much like my little uh-oh back in an earlier post with my curved-edged tortillas, I can't say that I was too disappointed in the end. The recipe is, of course, less than perfected because of the faux-pas, and I can't guarantee that anyone else would like it. Maybe "doughy" is not appealing to most folks. But, because I don't know this and can only base my posts on what I know I enjoyed, I have to share this with you. At the very least, try it out with boiled pasta and get a very rich, flavorful and fresh lasagna that can feel more comfortable cozying up to those tried-and-true type lasagnas.

I do have to warn you that there aren't really quantities for these ingredients. Unless my blog is on my mind while cooking, I tend to throw things together in a ratio that I know I'll enjoy (heavy on the vegetables, for instance). I encourage you to do the same, since a recipe like this really can't be "ruined" by too much or too little of any one ingredient.

I don't know what Mother Nature has against the East Coast, or really a whole lot of the United States as of late, but today is a downright miserable day. Maybe She is lamenting my return to academia as well - after all, Her antics have resulted in my 8am class being canceled, which is nothing to complain about - but outside is still this mish-mosh of ice, snow, and rain. I am not looking forward to the trek to my class in just a little bit. I would much rather be sitting inside with a book, some comfy pants, a cup of tea and these almond biscotti. In that context, I enjoy these days.

You see, these almond biscotti are kind of perfect. Crunchy around the outside, with a burst of almond and orange on the inside. The house smells wonderful when you bake them, and you can't help but smile when you try one. At least, I couldn't. I did have to make some adjustments to the original recipe, notably exchanging orange liqueur for orange juice, but I don't think that would make an extraordinary difference. The batter was unbelievably sweet, to the point that I considered writing in a decrease in sugar for the next time I made them, but the actual, baked biscottis are wonderful. I encourage you to make these, especially if you happen to be stuck inside, as I wish I were, in this awful weather.

This is it, my last day at home before venturing off to the Big Bad University for another semester's worth of adventures. I'm in a very mixed-emotion mood as I put off packing the rest of my things, essentially permitting a state of mild denial to settle over me. If I can just get through this semester, I keep saying to myself, because this one is going to be a killer as I reach the pinnacle of my academic career's challenging science courses. So, today, I'm in much need of the kind of recipe that I'm about to share with you: something I don't get to eat much at school, something that I can associate with home as I gear up for the apartment life again. There are really only two things that truly fit this bill: grass-fed beef, and fish.

The fish recipe I have for you today is not so rigid. I mean, it doesn't have to be a turbot recipe. It doesn't even have to be a fish recipe. You see, the spices and the curry play the starring roles here, and I don't care what you slather it onto - tofu, chicken, fish, veggies - it will be nothing short of awesome. I chose turbot because the wonderful workers at Whole Foods informed me that although their Halibut - what the original recipe used - was still in the freezer, Turbot was among the types of white fish that were pretty similar. I had never had Turbot before, it was wild caught, and it was a couple bucks cheaper than the other suggestions they made (not that a couple bucks is any true bargain when you're talking about fresh fish), so I went for it.

I was a little nervous making this, since my family does not worship Indian cuisine and although some members enjoy spice, others shy away from it. However, everyone loved it. It's not spicy; it's smoky. And while I would have enjoyed a little bit more of a kick (okay, a lot more of a kick), it was delicious in its own right. I mean, talk about flavor complexity! Roasting the Turbot in a masala rub just lets the fish pop with savory-ness, and the whole house smells like garam masala - which, I may not buy a candle in that scent, but I certainly enjoyed in conjunction with my cooking. And then you get this curry to serve alongside of it that has sweetness from the tomatoes, a tart-sweet oomph from some ginger, creaminess from the addition of some milk and a wonderful, deep smokiness from all of the other spices. If you like heat, though, throw in some extra chili peppers or sneak in a little dash of hot sauce. I don't know how authentic that is (something tells me at least the hot sauce thing would be a bit untraditional), but it sure would be something.

My breakfast trifecta is almost always made of whole grains, low fat dairy, and fresh fruit. A little high carb (I'm workin' on it), perhaps, but it proves itself to be otherwise healthy, versatile, and flat out tasty. However, at least once a week, I break out of my robotic routine and make myself not a breakfast trifecta, but a breakfast duo: eggs and veggies. This is nearly as quick and versatile, and perhaps even healthier. One of my favorite combinations I've thrown together so far is what I like to call a Mexican Fiesta Omelet. Now, this is, of course, "Mexican" in what I would imagine is the most American of terms, and while I hope that it's somewhat authentic, I'm not claiming to know how to cook Mexican food as Mexicans actually eat it. Regardless, it's delicious, and Mexican Fiesta Omelet has a fun ring to it, si?

The funny thing about this omelet is that it actually takes on a pinkish hue as a result of actually mixing the salsa into the egg "batter," rather than simply topping it. However, taking this extra steps gives it an extra one-two punch of flavor, and since salsa tends to be one of the "smartest" condiment choices on the market, it keeps the calorie and fat count down, too. It's also adaptable - I didn't add any corn, guacamole, cilantro, or spicy peppers, but think that any or all of those would be excellent. Wrapping it up in a tortilla would also be nice, but again, I really think that it's wonderful on its own. It's light but filling as it stands, which is always a welcome description in the morning.

Mexican Fiesta Omelet
Yield: 1 serving

1/4 cup + 2 tablespoons egg whites, or 2 eggs
1 tablespoon low-sodium salsa
1/4 teaspoon cumin
2 tablespoons diced green bell pepper, from approximately 1 segment
2 tablespoons finely diced onion
1/4 cup black beans
2 tablespoons chopped tomato
1 1/2 tablespoons shredded cheddar cheese (I used provolone, but only because it was all I had)
1-2 teaspoons olive oil, for sauteeing

Notes: *I'm not expert on omelet flipping. If your pan is greasy enough, you can loosen it and then use your wrist to flick it mostly around, guiding it with your spatula; but my pan is never greasy enough, and egg whites seem to be much more prone to falling apart than whole eggs, so I typically accept more of an egg scramble as my finished product (hence why my picture looks particularly well put together and appetizing). I'll work on the technique and get back to you, though. Promise.

The east coast has been hit yet again, but this time with a soft, powdery blanket that makes a snow day all that much more enjoyable. The ordeal of shoveling diminishes into a minor chunk of work taken out of an otherwise peaceful day, where schools are closed and families are home, but we are not all completely stranded by blizzard-level accumulation. As much as I dislike the cold, I love a snowy winter, and what's more, I love the food that it evokes. I haven't had hot chocolate yet and I did just eat a salad for lunch instead of a body-warming soup, but the dish that I have for you today is the epitome of snow day suppers: chicken 'n dumpling pie.

As with most casserole or classic meals that I make, this one is loosely based off of the recommendations of several online recipes I found. I didn't really go out and shop for ingredients, except for the chicken which I didn't have on hand; mostly, I used what was in my kitchen, and I think that's what makes this dish so perfect. It's malleable and forgiving, but no matter what you throw into it, it's a comfort to eat it. There's just something about a snow storm that makes me want to gather around a table with a group of people and eat something tried-and-true, a classic American specialty.

With all of this being said, I'm not a die-hard fan of pot pies. Nowadays, I can't go around eating most of them because of the pie crust ingredients, but even back when I didn't give a hoot about nutrition and what type of fat was in my food, I just didn't go crazy over this meal. I find the filling to be lackluster or, if it does have a flavor, overly salted - neither one of which flies in the Floptimism kitchen. I won't say that this dumpling pie is a complete revolution to this stigma I've attached to chicken pot pie and its relatives; it is not robustly flavorful in the way that an Asian stir-fry or Indian chutney is, but it is richer than most pot pies and chicken casseroles I've encountered. I enjoyed it; it warmed me up and comforted me, and left me very satisfied. And I have to admit, the warm-and-fuzzy emotions the are created by eating this with loved ones on a cold and potentially stormy night trumps complex spices and zesty flavor any day.

The Method

I have a confession to make: I used a boxed mix. These are not my cookies; they are Trader Joe's. Maybe that makes this a product review more than a typical recipe post from me, but I don't mind. You see, I all-but swore off gingerbread after my last foray with the notoriously unruly dough when my aunt let me in on her gingerbread secret, the secret that I am about to share with you. This secret is that if you go to Trader Joe's and buy their Deep, Dark Gingerbread Cake & Baking Mix, you don't have to deal with any stubborn, sticky, tantrum-inducing dough, and you wind up with some of the best darn cookies you've ever had. Seriously. Now, they apparently only sell this mix around Thanksgiving, but my aunt had an extra box and encouraged me to try making it - after all, she reasoned, L does love gingerbread cookies a whole lot. So, willing to try anything once, and being very interested in this un-taxing method for cookie preparation, I set to work on what would be our indulgent snack over this past weekend's skiing trip.

This dough comes together in one bowl - that's right, and not even the bowl of a stand mixer. Just a regular, glass mixing bowl. I mixed it with a wooden spoon instead of nervously watching the thick dough as it threatens to break even the dough hook of my house's beloved KitchenAid. I rolled it out without an extra pound of flour to remedy the sticking, cut out the shapes with ease, and watched as they baked and actually retained their shape. Well, most of them, anyway. They made the entire house smell like when autumn meets winter, and they tasted even better. There's a strong ginger taste, but they're soft - even though they're thin. Be careful, though, because this makes them really addicting, too.

I'll let you in on another secret: ice them. I don't mean flood them with icing, completely coating them, but decorate them with just a little bit. I initially decided to do this because my only resolution in 2011 is to conquer the Decorated Sugar Cookie, including botch finding a recipe and mastering the art of icing embellishment (as you see from the photos, I still have a long way to go). However, upon tasting them both plain and iced, I have to advocate for the iced ones. That extra sweetness gives the cookie a 1-2 punch that can't be beaten. My icing was sketchy at best, as I didn't have enough confectioner's sugar for the recipe and accidentally added too much milk. I spent a good 15 minutes trying to change it from a goopy, gloppy liquid into a firmer, more controllable substance, but there's only so much flour, cinnamon, and brown sugar you can add to an icing before you compromise its taste (though the cinnamon and brown sugar were nice additions, if I do say so myself, and might even suggest that you try doctoring your own icing recipe to include these two ingredients for this particular cookie - just be careful that you get rid of the chunks of brown sugar, which can back up your pastry bag and wreak goopy icing havoc).

Melt the butter in a medium-large, microwavable mixing bowl. Add the remaining two ingredients and mix well.

Form the dough into a ball and chill for at least one hour. When ready to start working with the dough, preheat the oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit. Roll out to approximately 1/8" thickness, cut desired shapes, and place on a parchment-lined cookie sheet. These cookies do not spread very much, but still leave at least a 1/2-inch space between them. Bake in the preheated oven for 6-8 minutes (I baked mine for 8, and only a few particularly thin ones were on the overdone side), then remove from the oven and allow to cool on the sheet for 2-3 minutes. Transfer to a cooling rack and finish cooling.


Now, these will not be my go-to gingerbread cookies. As dirt easy and delicious as these gingerbread characters are, I'm still determined to find a successful from-scratch version. The fact that they came out of a cake mix has got me thinking that My Future Gingerbread Recipe will come from a marriage between cookie and cake, rather than pure-bred cookie. But until I find that cookie, these are fabulous, and every bit worth it. Oh, and L loved them!

Recently, upon observing me eating a fairly healthy lunch, my grandmother turned to me and asked, essentially, "do you actually like that stuff?" I find myself answering that question more often than I ever expected to, and even more often than that I'm in need of a swift and poignant defense against the all-too-common criticism that I don't eat enough junk food (clearly, these people do not read my blog too diligently, or else they would know better). The answer to that first question, by the way, is yes - I thoroughly enjoy the food that I eat. Food is too important to me to waste my time with meals that I don't enjoy - no matter how healthy a food is, if it makes me cringe, it ain't goin in my mouth. Luckily, I find most healthy foods preferable to the more common American fare, so this is not often an issue.

Which brings me to my next point. With the new year finally here and resolutions being made (and broken) at record speed, many people are targeting the way they eat. Although I don't make resolutions, gravitating instead toward year-round goals that I think up along the way, I know that many people do, and many people wake up on January 1st with a groan and a moan as they think of the terrible, inedible foods their new goals will demand. It doesn't have to be that way, though. Following a healthy diet can taste good, and it's very rare that a person would need to jump to the extreme of never again eating the fatty, sugary junk foods that they love. This recipe is proof of the former. Yes, some salads taste like rabbit food and chicken breast is much less enticing than a perfectly cooked cut of beef, but there are also countless recipes that both taste good and are good for you.

Quinoa on its own is a little bland. Most grains are. However, as chicken breast often operates, quinoa beautifully embodies the flavors you add to it. Roasted butternut squash and cranberries are in a sweet-and-sour civil war, crunchy pecans offset the soft and fluffy quinoa, and the small addition of spices reminds you that there's a whole other level to this dish. This dish is one to be eaten slowly, appreciating how different a bite of onion and squash can be from one with cranberries and pecans. The last fork-full of this cranberry and butternut squash quinoa salad is at least as delicious as the first, if you let it.

I did make a few changes: halving the recipe for 2 but quartering the amount of quinoa because I ran out; adding in dried basil instead of parsley. I would certainly try the parsley some time, but the ratio of quinoa to squash and cranberries was, to me, ideal. I ate this alone as a lighter dinner, but could imagine it making a nice bed for fish or chicken. Adding some beans could make it a little fuller while keeping it vegetarian. Really, though, the recipe flowed well - it didn't just come together quickly. It was easy to make and easy to like, and I needed to share it with you before cranberry and squash season was really, really over. Plus, I had to prove that something good for you doesn't have to taste like cardboard.

As much as my fingers are itching to type novels about all of the more savory dishes I've been enjoying over the past several months, and as sick as many of you probably are of sweets (c'est possible??), I promised you brownies, and brownies you shall get. So to speak, that is - The Goods will remain in my freezer, waiting patiently for the perfect night to arrive for their date with vanilla ice cream. I even marched down to my freezer, pulled a few out and had a photo shoot session with them on my kitchen table when I realized this morning I had, once again, forgotten to snap their beautiful little mugs before devouring the majority of them - that is how determined I was to give all of you your just desserts: chocolately, gratifying squares of decadence, just shy of sheer perfection.

You see, I'm very particular about my brownies. Brownies and chocolate cake need to be done very well. It isn't that I find no pleasure in even the sorriest of brownies and other chocolate confections because, let's be real, I am female; however, chocolate makes me weak in the knees, and so I refuse to stop until the God of Brownie Recipes is unearthed. This recipe, it's no Lord Almighty, but it's still good. Satisfying. Rich and delicate, with an extremely subtle and downplayed sweetness cutting into it in perfect harmony with the occasional crunch from a lingering chocolate chip. Really, this recipe is spot-on...if you like cakey brownies, that is. Which, as I mentioned before about the whole loving all things chocolate, I do, but they're not what really does it for me. What really does it for me is the dense, fudgey, barely-uses-any-flour-at-all recipe that, when eaten chilled, is more akin to a softer form of pure chocolate than to the baked goods family. You see, I know what I want in a brownie, and while these may be the be-all-and-end-all for someone else - and many, many people who tried these could not stop raving - I will continue on in my search for The One.

All of that being said, there happens to be vanilla ice cream in my freezer right now and dinner is the only thing standing between me and an a la mode dessert that is enough to make a girl very, very happy.

Preheat your oven to 325 degrees fahrenheit. Grease a 9x9 inch square pan; in 1.5x the recipe, I used one 9x9 and one 8x8 and am pretty happy with the results.

Combine the flour, cocoa, and baking soda in a medium bowl and set aside. In another medium bowl, stir together the oil, sugar, eggs, and vanilla; set this aside, too. Meanwhile, in a medium sauce pan over medium-low heat, gently melt 2/3 of the chocolate chips (1 cup) into the evaporated milk. Once all of the chips have melted, remove the pan from the heat and allow to cool.

Once cool, whisk in first the sugar mixture, then the flour mixture, until just incorporated. Fold in the remaining 1/2 cup chocolate as well as the nuts, if using. Pour the batter into the prepared pans, place in the oven, and bake for approximately 30 minutes. In contrast to how you would test a cake for doneness, a toothpick inserted into these brownies after 30 minutes will, apparently, not come out clean. After reading this, I didn't bother wasting a toothpick, and just trusted my oven, the recipe, and the notion that slightly undercooked desserts are not nearly as disasterous as slightly overcooked ones. I mean, that batter is the best part anyway, right? So, pull them out at 30 minutes with all the faith in the world, cool them for at least 10 minutes, and then slice 'em into squares and serve them warm, cool, or - if you're completely normal like me - just a tad bit frozen (okay, maybe save that for the fudgier ones). Vanilla ice cream, whipped cream, and hot fudge are totally optional, but highly recommended.

Notes:
*One day, I will make desserts with nuts in them, but it makes it much more complicated for sharing. Although, being forced to eat a couple of extra brownies or a slightly larger piece of cake is not the biggest grievance I've had to undertake.

Enjoy!

I apologize right from the start, but those brownies that I mentioned last time are just going to have to wait. They have been shoved from the lime light by these little gems - these gorgeous, delicious, adorable little muffins filled with juicy pear and topped with sweet and crunchy oat streusel. This, my last minute procrastination recipe for New Year's Eve, could not have been a better decision. Although these pear muffins are far from traditional celebration fare, they worked beautifully with the early dinner I had with L's family (and as my light lunch to hold me over to said early dinner, ahem...).


It should come as no surprise that I found these over at the Smitten Kitchen, since these days I find almost all of my rave-worthy recipes there. I was planning last week to make a pear crisp for Christmas, but logistically couldn't figure out how to make it in advance so that it could travel to its destination. So I ditched that idea, replaced it with the fudge and some mysterious chocolatey caramel surprises (soon to be revealed, I promise), and have four pears sitting on my counter threatening to rot there before too long. So, I did what any frugal baker would do - I used it as an excuse to bake something! I delved into my pot of recipes and pulled out one for a pear bread, told myself it would be excellent in mini-muffin form, found an oat streusel topping to sprinkle over it, and got to work. What came out of my kitchen yesterday is nothing short of saintly (coming from the baker in me, not the nutritionist, mind you). No, I exaggerate. These are not the worst muffins, either - in fact, I would even file them away in the "muffin" category, while some of my so-called muffin recipes-to-make are kept very judiciously in the "cupcake" folder.


Yes, I really am that particular. But that is neither here nor there, as this recipe is too good to dilly-dally. I very barely changed it from Deb's recommendations, aside from to halve it (and I still got 4 dozen minis), adjust the baking time, add the topping and play with the amount of pear - again, minimally. One discovery I did make, however, was that if you zest a juicy pear, you get pear sauce. You know, like apple sauce, but from a pear. Therefore, I have every intention of swapping out some of the oil for some pear sauce next time. just for kicks. I might also tone down the brown sugar in the streusel and make a bit more of it for topping in general. If I really want to go crazy with the healthification of these muffins (and I'm not so sure I do, since they really are fantastic as they are), I might tinker with the sugar in the muffins, too. But for right now, this recipe is a knock out, and I don't know why you're still reading this instead of skipping to the good stuff and heading into your kitchen faster than the speed of light.