Comunidad Health Foods

I feel like chickpeas get a little shunted, type-casted even, pegged into the hole of "Hummus" and left there to go stale with monotony. Now, I love hummus as much as the next person - spread on a bagel with some fresh tomato, used as a dip for warm pita or bell peppers, or mixed into one of the best chicken salads I have ever made, this is not a food to be trifled with. However, chickpeas have so much more to offer than just pureed creaminess. So, in order to help you embrace your inner love for chickpeas in all forms, I have 3 recipes to share with you, all of which cast the chickpea in the starring role. 

I hope I'm not getting over-zealous with these multi-recipe posts. I know they can get lengthy. I just have so many backlogged recipes to share with you, and oftentimes, they're similar in theme or ingredient, so it just seems to make sense to bundle a few up at a time. If they're too distracting, though, speak up! There's no use in me spending ages formatting a long post of several different recipes if you just wind up passing it over as soon as you catch sight of it. I'd rather be writing about backlogged entries for years, than rushing through them all under the assumption that you guys were on the same page, right there with me.

So about these recipes. The first one is beautiful in its simplicity - it came as a result of leftover ingredients and a need for a quick meal. This Chickpea & Vegetable Skillet is tangy, bursting with the flavor of artichokes and sundried tomatoes, and all around enjoyable. The serving size is large if you intend to add salad greens or pasta to it; I found it filling on its own for myself. The only thing I could think to add to this that I didn't have on hand was a nut - maybe a walnut - to add a little crunch.

Last but not least is, of course, a recipe for hummus. Believe it or not, this is my first time making a hummus, and of course I couldn't settle for a standard one. I had to go and find some doctored up version, and let me tell you, it made a beautiful light lunch earlier this afternoon. The recipe, courtesy of Annie's Eats, added cilantro and jalapenos to the mix, and it was so fresh and spicy as a result. I found carrots to be perfect little spice absorbers, to the point where I didn't even feel the need to reach for a slice of bread at the end. That being said, spread a little bit of this on pita, and your taste buds will be very happy. The only change I made to the original was to use peanut butter instead of tahini, and I only wound up mixing about half of the peanut butter/oil mixture into the hummus, to no ill effect (if you're asking for my humble opinion). So, for the sake of saving space and giving credit where credit is due, I'll simply direct you over to the original post for this one.

Well we kicked off May with a fun Mexican food trifecta, so why not end it that way, too? I can't really believe that May is already about to end, though I'm thankful that the weather has finally decided to catch up with the months, which are hurtling at top speed into summer. I feel a twinge of...guilt? regret? that I'm here bragging about the clear, sunny skies outside my bedroom window as I type this, while so many people are still battling weather so destructive that I half expected Rapture-ites to come out with an "I told you so" PSA. Hopefully everyone who I touch with this blog has been left untouched by these tornadoes and intense storms.

I have a feeling that most of you, though, are happily preparing for a fun, relaxing Memorial Day Weekend. Although these three meals are not picnic or barbecue fare and the soup in particular is bordering on inappropriate for this 80 degree weather (though hot, spicy meals are thought by some cultures to be healthy in the heat, and are often consumed in the summer months), they are all meals that can be easily made for if not a crowd, then at least a family. 

Let's start with the enchiladas - sour cream chicken enchiladas, to be exact. This dish does take a bit of time to assemble, but if you do it in parts ahead of time, it's really not bad. And, get this - I wasn't actually wowed by the recipe until the leftovers sat in my fridge overnight. So when I heated my second enchilada up for lunch the next day? Heaven. This means that you can absolutely, positively, 100% get away with preparing this way early in the day or even the night before, so that all you need to do is pop it in the oven. If you allow time for the sauce to mingle with the rest of the ingredients, you'll get a spicy, mildly sweet (maybe too sweet) enchilada bursting with saucy flavor. The cheese plays a very minor role here, so if you're of the mindset that cheese must be melting and oozing all over the place, you might want to up that ratio a bit.

Now let's move onto the tacos, which were vegetarian and certainly different from what you'd normally expect. They used a ricotta-spinach mixture as the filling, which might get some crinkled-up nose reactions amongst some kids (and some adults I know, too!), so this one might not be for everyone. I added chicken just to make it more filling, though I think they'd be fine, especially as a lighter meal, without any extra protein (or with beans, tofu, beef, etc.). These were ridiculously easy to prepare but, ultimately, disappointingly bland. It was such an interesting idea and the textures were spot-on, but the flavors just were not there. I almost didn't even share this with you except I had some leftover filling that I used for a stir fry the next day, and it came out much better. I really just threw in ingredients that I had on hand - dried basil, some parmesan, roasted red peppers, extra jalapeno pepper, and garlic - and I forewent the tortilla. All this to say that these tacos are redeemable, just don't be shy with the flavors. In the recipe below I've added the spices and flavorings that I used the following day, which should help.

And lastly, that brings us to the Spicy Tomato Soup, which I adapted from a Taco Soup recipe. This was so easy to put together and so tasty that I marked it in my notes as "definitely a repeat recipe." It was simple with a small kick, not huge, and would be just as excellent ramped up with some corn, chicken/beans, and tortilla strips (homemade preferably!). There's really not much to say about this soup other than that - it's just plain good eats, and I have to encourage you to give it a try. Eat it with a grilled cheese sandwich, serve it as an appetizer before taco night, or just eat it on its own - you really can't go wrong.

Now, onto the recipes!

Recently, I have been extremely drawn to the notion of small meals that pack a flavor punch. I have a feeling this attraction to "mini plates" of clean, healthy foods is a combination of a strong desire for the warm weather that typically provides us with this type of eating, and simply paying more attention to my own hunger cues and appetite. Without thinking, I can pack it away with the best of them, clearing a plate full of calorie-laden food without a blink of an eye or any serious "stuffed" feelings afterwards. However, if I sit up and pay attention (and, let's face it, slow down), I notice that despite this "ability," I'm satiated after a much smaller amount of food.

I have also been so attracted to all of this talk of the raw diet I have been hearing. Any food habit that includes the word "diet" throws a red flag up in the air for me as a budding nutritionist, but from what I've read, this "diet" is far from it - it is much more of a lifestyle than a crash course in detoxing. Yes, people use it as a temporary cleanse, but I can understand the appeal of adopting it as a lifestyle much more. There's just something about raw food that feels clean, which is an adjective you'll hear me throwing around about some of the dishes I make. I will never attempt to go 100% raw. I'm not even ready to say that I'm going to go any percent raw right now. But I do think it would be nice to incorporate into my diet in some way. Maybe if my cholesterol levels haven't been scared into a reasonable range when I get them rechecked in a month, I'll take a more serious look into these kind of eating habits.

Until then, I'll just have to oogle articles about the topic from afar, and savor the not-raw-but-still-refreshing recipes I do happen to stumble upon (and the occasional raw one that I encounter incidentally). This meal, this concoction of peas and carrots and yogurt, is a wonderful example of such a dish. Originally from Smitten Kitchen, I tweaked it a bit and came up with this cool, sweet, tangy, very filling appetizer, side, or light main dish. I called it a little heavy in my notes, which runs counter to the picture I'm painting now, but with the few adjustments I will make next time (there will be a next time), I think that will be taken care of. The portion size was a little too large (particularly the dressing) and the peanut butter a little too prominent, while the spices took a backseat that I'd like to alter in my next attempt. By reducing both the portion size and amount of peanut butter in the yogurt dressing, and serving it on a thin cracker or even crepe instead of the matzah that I had (it was Passover, what can I say?), it will be a perfect blend of light and filling. The ratios below reflect my vision of the cleaned-up version, but feel free to head to Deb's post if you're interested in the original.

Every so often, I get curious about what "National Food Holiday" has rolled around, in a too-late attempt to eat festively for more than just the major holidays. So, even though I have long since had my meal plan set for this week, I decided to check out what today and tomorrow celebrate before choosing the recipe to share with you today. Well, today was National Escargot Day, and although I have a burning desire to taste this notorious upscale food, I shockingly do not have a recipe that involves escargot, snails, or even seafood in any capacity. So, I moved on to tomorrow, which is both National Wine Day and National Brown-Bag-It Day. Does anyone else find that amusing? I just picture someone staggering around with a bottle of wine semi-concealed in a brown bag from the liquor store. Of all things to celebrate on the same day!

Anyway, I don't have any wine recipes in my arsenal either, but I can offer you a suggestion for a brown-bagged lunch. I just posted a quick tip on chicken salad on Twitter, so hopefully this isn't too monotonous, but have you not picked up on my love affair with unconventional chicken salads yet? You really should not be at all surprised that I find this versatile meal to be excellent for brown bagging it. Some varieties require refrigeration which may not be an option for some people who pack their lunches, but this particular Hummus Chicken Salad should be relatively stable, especially with an ice pack or a fairly insulated bag. 

This recipe for Hummus Chicken Salad is flavorful, light, and textural. I'm talking smooth red peppers and tomatoes, crunchy onions and bell peppers, creamy hummus, and savory chicken. Stick it inside a whole wheat pita or bring a separate container of salad greens, and you have yourself a killer, refreshing lunch! Plus, like every chicken salad recipe, you can switch it up based on what you have in your pantry, so at 10pm at night when you're getting ready for work or school the next day (or, you know, 7am when you're getting ready and need to leave at 8), you don't have to feel panicked if your pantries don't seem to have everything on your ingredient list.

Over the past year, I've become pretty familiar with the brown-bag scene, with full-day classes that required me to either bring food with me, or deal with whatever salty, fatty, overpriced concoction Aramark decided to provide my University with that day. Keep an eye out on Twitter tomorrow for some lunch-packing tips I've picked up along the way, but for now, I'd like to leave you with a link to a website that has made my packed foods more sustainable, conscionable, and - let's face it - cuter, too! Last year I bought reusable snack and sandwich baggies from a company called Lunchskins. I haven't yet found a full-on lunch bag that I like, but these little guys have made my life a lot easier, and my trash can a lot emptier. True, they don't seal shut like a ziploc bag does, so some things if packed too far in advance may not stay their absolute freshest (my cereal this morning that I packed yesterday evening lacked its typical crunch), but that anecdote is by far one of the only examples I can think of, of drawbacks of these bags. Oh, and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich that sat out for over 12 hours and then was stored overnight and then some in the fridge...that got dried out. But I don't point my fingers at the bag on that one - that was all me. 

By the way, on an almost completely different note, I've been thinking a lot about giveaways, and this post about Lunchskins makes me pine to give some away. Truthfully, though, my ego gets worried that if I were to have an ego, my blog isn't yet visited enough to get any response. Also, let's face it - an unemployed college kid doesn't have too much spare cash around to be sending gifts to strangers. A little selfish, perhaps, but realistic. I'll keep working on it, though, and pondering it, because I'd love to be able to share with you guys the things I love, more than just via the written word. 

So how will you celebrate National Brown Bagged (Wine) Day? Do you pack your lunch (or breakfast, or dinner...or snacks!)? What are your favorite foods for the proverbial brown bag? Favorite containers to replace it?

Tweet

 Before I get to the recipe at hand, I have a confession to make: I have made a Twitter account. Putting thoughts of giggling pre-teens and tech-savvy celebrities aside, I signed Floptimism up! I still don't think I understand it. I feel a lot like an 82-year-old woman, actually, as I sign in and stare at Tweets full of abbreviations and symbols that might as well be in another language. I have a lot of catching up to do, but I'm excited! There are so many times that I have quick little thoughts or tips I want to share with you, but they aren't nearly substantial enough to warrant their own post on here. So, in addition to keeping track of all of my updates on the blog, I'll (hopefully) be Tweeting fun little blurbs about food and perhaps, inadvertently, life. So search for Floptimism on Twitter, or just click here for my profile!

Now, about this Mustard-Crusted Tofu. This was my second foray into the world of tofu (check out my first over here!), and it was just as delicious as the first. It was extremely salty somehow, despite not using heavily salted products at any step, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. It offered a broad array of textures and flavors, from sweet and crunchy to smooth and savory. The mustard was a little overpowering, so I've adjusted the recipe below to call for less of it right off that bat; the same goes for the oil. The mustard also didn't seem to want to stay on the tofu very much, which may or may not have something to do with the reduced oil, but I didn't find this to be too distracting. In the end, the ginger is hands down what makes this dish a star. It comes through in both flavor and aroma perfectly, and once the mustard is toned down a little bit, this meat-free meal will deliver an incredible balance of flavors - a real treat, for sure. As for the kale and sweet potato side dish that comes along with it? My only complaint is that there wasn't more of it, also reflected in the ingredient ratios listed below. It's just a shame that my pictures didn't turn out very well this time, because this is the kind of dish that makes eating meat-free not only easy, but downright exciting. If my photography skills aren't convincing enough, I hope that last claim is.

L and I are up in the mountains for a few days of peace and quiet before my summer class starts, and we took a walk to the community office today. The woman at the desk was talking to us about the weather which has been gloomy and rainy for the past - well, too long, if you ask me. I've been asking myself if someone secretly uprooted me and my entire life and transported us all to Seattle while I was asleep one night last week. I have told my parents on several occasions that they better get ready because I'm moving south. 

No, in all honesty, I haven't much minded the recent weather. There's something peaceful about it, and although I am more than ready to break out my ice cream machine and be able to study for my summer course pool-side, perhaps with a cool drink in my hand (if such things are allowed at the new apartment), it's also comforting to be snuggled up warm in a house while the rain patters on the roof. It also gives me an excuse to share with you all of these great recipes I have saved up from cooler times, like this stew.

This Black Bean, Chicken & Red Pepper Stew is spicy and warm, satisfying and easy to put together. It's the perfect recipe for estimating and adjusting on a whim based on ingredients and emotions you may have on hand at any given time. Feel free to make it vegetarian by removing the chicken, for example. I would say that it was slightly too liquidy, which could be remedied by some extra time simmering, and I wouldn't mind the addition of some fresh vegetables, as most of the ingredients called for are canned. It does make a hefty amount (even when I halved it), providing me with many delicious and quick freezer meals for the semester. 

So, if you find yourself inside listening to the rain and torn between dreaming of sunnier days and wanting to make the most of the weather at hand, consider whipping up a batch of this stew. After the first bite, you won't even remember that you're supposed to be feeling bitter that Spring has, apparently, been kidnapped. You'll actually be happy for the clouds.

That dish happened to be a very appealing combination of warmed chickpeas and spinach, which I also proceeded to write about, until I realized that a much wiser and more level-headed me wrote in my notes way back when I made the dish that because I really didn't get to taste it myself (it was made for a potluck and was all gone before I got to the buffet), I would need to make it a second time before posting. I just felt too guilty to proceed with the post, even though the very fact that it disappeared so quickly gives me a pretty good inkling as to how enjoyable it was.

Moving on to Attempt #3, we have these beautiful, tantalizing, slightly burnt (but still loved!) mushroom caps, filled with turkey marinated lightly in yogurt and sour cream, topped with ground pine nuts and broiled to a toasty wonder. The original recipe called for a few more sophisticated ingredients like white wine and chicken (ground turkey is decidedly not amongst the culinary elite of the poultry world), but I still think it turned out well despite my use-what's-on-hand attitude.

The pine nut offers a buttery, nutty flavor to encapsulate the creaminess of the chicken mixture, and the mushroom cushion beneath it provides a solid meatiness to make the whole thing feel a bit more like a meal. It's certainly not a spicy meal but the red pepper does add a mild level of heat, and the yogurt's tang imparts a subtle sweetness. It's a little monochromatic, though the spinach that I served it over did help, and so in future attempts I may add some more veggies.

One Year Ago: Cake Decorating: Tackling the Frosting

Sometimes in my quest for the occasional carb-free or very-low-carb meal, I make a delicious dish...that absolutely does not fill me up. I try to make sure that in cutting out the carbohydrates in one meal I don't deprive myself of healthy calories at the same time, but it doesn't always work. I don't put everything I eat into a recipe analysis, and I certainly don't do it before I eat the meal. This recipe for baked eggs is a perfect example of this. It was light and healthy, protein-and-vegetable-based, yet full of flavor and very satisfying to eat. It was a little saltier than I tend to like, but also vaguely sweet. But when I finished, I was still a little hungry, and although I didn't comment on it in my notes, I'd be willing to be a pretty hefty sum that means I went to dessert pretty early that night. And although I've also gotten better at healthier evening treats, I'm no saint, and there's really no point congratulating myself for a carb-free meal if I go and replace that whole grain slice of toast with a big slab of chocolate cake an hour later.

So, if you're interested in keeping this low carb, I would either up the veggies even more or serve it with a side salad. Otherwise, follow the original recipe's advice and stick a (preferably whole grain) half of an english muffin on the bottom of the casserole dish before proceeding with the rest of the recipe. Either solution would be wonderful, and trust me, I in no way consider the addition of the carbohydrate to be a detraction in nutritional quality. I try to be careful when I talk about my low-carb meals - we all need carbs, and I know that. Carbs are our friends. Just, if you happen to be like me with borderline high triglycerides (that I'm still secretly hoping is a blood test fluke; yes, I am in denial), a meal that focuses on fresh (non-starchy) vegetables and high quality protein here and there can be a good thing.

So anyway, this meal is good. I overbaked it a little bit so the yolk set more than it should have, but it was still very tasty, and I will absolutely make it again. Feel free to sub in various vegetables, add in a flavoring like a tomato sauce or mustard - have fun with it. As usual with the recipes I share with you, treat it as a way of preparing a food rather than a recipe - a skeleton of deliciousness that can be modified based on what you like and have on hand.

Tuesdays were special days in my house. Growing up, one of my grandmothers lived with us, and she would always be awake when I crawled out of bed at the crack of dawn. The rest of the house was fairly quiet at 6:30am, but she would always be downstairs at the kitchen table, sitting peacefully. Somehow, some way, Tuesdays came to be slightly different. Instead of eggs or Fruit Loops or the occasional french toast, on Tuesdays, there were pancakes. For the first 18 years of my life, virtually without fail, I ate pancakes for breakfast on Tuesday. They were always Aunt Jemima, though they came in various shapes and sizes - sometimes they were shaped like Mickey Mouse heads, other times they were dinosaurs, and sometimes they were just plain circles. They always had a little butter smeared over them and a near half-gallon of Aunt Jemima Syrup poured on top. They swam in store bought sweetness, and Tuesdays were the best days of the week.

Since I started college, Pancake Tuesdays have started to become antiquated, a thing of my past that only now and then makes a reappearance. It wasn't a conscious decision. I didn't stop liking pancakes or even stop eating them as I delved further into nutrition. When I was living in the dorms, I ate breakfast in my room, meaning I ate breakfast bars, fruit, yogurt, or cereal. Sometimes I would heat up some oatmeal in my microwave. I never went to the dining hall, and by the time I got my own place last year I was so out of the habit of taking the time in the morning to prepare and cook the batter (not that it takes a long time), it just didn't happen. 

I miss Pancake Tuesdays. I might even start them back up again (though with an 8am summer class and another 8am Tuesday/Thursday class in the fall, they may need to be lunch or dinner pancakes). But until I make that leap back into my childhood traditions, I can at least share with you a recipe for pancakes on a Tuesday, even if I made them and enjoyed them on a Wednesday night for dinner before I came home for the summer.

These are not your average pancakes - they are worlds away from the Aunt Jemima mix. You see, these are bread pudding pancakes. Yes, as in you use stale bread to make these bad boys, which makes them just about the most filling comfort-food pancakes you could possibly think up. These are the monster trucks of the pancake world, but only in the best of ways, because they are also fantastically delicious. My only complaint, which is hardly a complaint at all, is that halved I should've gotten about 3-4 pancakes, and instead I got 5 absolutely enormous ones that were so thick the centers didn't fully cook. I should have made them into smaller circles and then exercised some self restraint by saving some for later. I mean, two of these suckers could probably fill you up, and I proudly packed away all 5. And then couldn't think about food for the next few hours. The recipe listed below is the halved recipe, adjusted to serve 2 people.

I made some changes to the original, including sneaking just a teensy bit of my banana liquor into the batter (shh!), and I will definitely keep this recipe in mind the next time I have some old bread that needs some creative attention. The best thing about these pancakes is that although they are wonderful with more traditional sweet accompaniments (I personally layered them with warm cinnamon applesauce), I can imagine them being irresistible with savory additions - vegetables, pesto, cheese. Because they're heftier than a regular pancake, they can take the intensity. They can support these fuller, savory ingredients. Just, you know, leave out the banana liquor if you're going this route.

Serve with fruit compotes, syrup, roasted vegetables - or just eat them as they are, which is equally tasty!

There are giant pits along the path of life. Big, camouflaged, come-out-of-nowhere holes that trip you up and send you hurtling head-first into floundering What's-The-Point thoughts that rarely amount to anything constructive.  They aren't always difficult to navigate out of, and sometimes you just stumble and stagger a little over them rather than fall fully in. But, they're there. Today, I hit one, and it had everything to do with food. This ugly, silly pothole opened up its sneaky covering just in time for me to go tumbling down, and I sat at the bottom of it for a little while, just observing my bleak surroundings. Around me were piles of uneaten, homemade cookies. Yes, today's pitfall was lined with delicious cookies - somehow, I imagine most of you reading this and thinking, "and she calls this a bad thing?"

It was the very fact that they were uneaten that I was so upset. Sometimes, I can't help but spiral down into a series of musings about why I even bother with cooking and baking. Clearly, the answer is always because I enjoy it. Because I don't like store-bought items nearly as much, the majority of the time. So, if no one else eats my food, the joy I get out of cooking and baking should not be affected. Still, no one ever said these pot holes provided environments that breed rationality. Also to my defense, another big reason that I love to cook and bake is that I want to share my work with others, help them enjoy the foods they eat - and maybe even one day open up my own cafe or bakery where people will come in from the neighborhood to share my food with good company. 

My food often goes uneaten. People can ooh and ahh all they want about the sight and smell of my treats in the oven; they can rave to me over the first bite. But then the next day, and the day after that, they sit in their tupperware containers, sadly watching people choose Chips Ahoy and Klondike Bars for dessert over them. A week goes by, and their freshness is stolen by what little oxygen can squeeze its way into their plastic abode, and I find myself faced with the difficult decision of finding some quick, creative way to use them up, or tossing them into the trash. Usually, when my back is turned so that the frugal penny-pincher in me can't protest, my mom puts the past-their-prime desserts out of their misery.

It all depresses me if I get too bogged down in it. I know the food I make tastes good. I know other people like it. I understand that if I make a batch of brownies, people won't devour them for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I understand that sometimes, you just don't want a brownie. Or dessert at all (though this last notion is decidedly more difficult for me to grasp). But it really feels that people have some sort of prejudice against my food, no matter how emphatic they are to my face. So, even if I love the process of creating, tweaking, or just choosing a recipe, gathering the ingredients and combining them, and displaying the finished product in an aesthetically pleasing manner...the sinking realization that people aren't eating them is difficult to ignore.When I find it particularly challenging to turn a blind eye to this particular elephant in the room, I question whether or not I should even keep cooking and baking (aside from what's necessary for me to, you know, not starve). 

Cue this recipe for fudge. You see, I debated what to write about today. I even considered not writing at all, as I perused my backlogged notes of recipes and couldn't muster the spirit to be enthusiastic about any of them in the context of today's trivial little setback. But then, I found my notes on this Peanut Truffle Fudge. I don't have any pictures - I apologize for that - but have to post them anyway. You see, I had no trouble getting people to eat these pieces of fudge. I didn't even have trouble convincing people to take some home with them. And I certainly didn't have trouble finishing off the few measly pieces that were left after the event that I had made them for. I figured, upon rereading my notes on them, that picture or not, these were the desserts I needed to focus on today. These dense, achingly simple, indulgently rich bars of chocolate pocked with lightly salted peanuts and chilled to perfection are not only enough to make anyone smile, but they're also enough to remind even the shabbiest of chefs that they, too, can do something right. I don't particularly like the idea of an ego-boost, but if I did, that's what I'd be calling these. You can't go wrong with three ingredients, particularly when those three ingredients are cream, chocolate, and peanuts. 

So although I still don't have any constructive ways of pulling myself up out of these Why-Even-Bother pits, or avoiding them altogether in the first place, I can suggest that if you, too, find yourself in one, find your Decadent, Rich, Ridiculously Easy Chocolate Peanut Truffle Fudge Recipe - the one that reminds you that life is by no means consistently disappointing, and you, too, can make something absolutely unforgettable.

I really didn't change a thing about the recipe, aside from altering the details of the ingredients slightly based on what I had on hand (heavy cream instead of half-n-half, a mixture of milk- and semi-sweet chocolate chips, lightly salted instead of regularly salted peanuts), I don't have a pretty picture to entice you, and I blathered on for a long time about things utterly unrelated to Peanuts, Truffles, or Chocolate Fudge. So, I will simply tell you to follow the link below to find Pure Happiness in the form of a dessert, and to anyone out there experiencing a troubling day - no matter how petty your disappointments may seem to you or anyone else - just remember...keep on keepin' on. You'll make it out alive, I promise.

Somehow, I managed to get through the entire semester without getting sick once. I usually get hit once per semester, and with my stress levels as high these past few months as they were, it seemed inevitable. However, my health held up. It was only until I got home from school and started relaxing for 2 weeks that my body decided to pick up some bug, and I have spent the past 2 days lying in bed diligently working my way through my long Netflix instant queue. I don't know what exactly I managed to catch or who I can blame for it, but whatever it is has left me on a meager diet of cinnamon toast and scrambled plain egg whites. I don't know about you, but I am not a fan of sick food. I love cinnamon toast and I love making nice, simple egg white omelets, but when those are really my only two options and the sight, smell, and thought of just about anything else makes my stomach lurch - well, I get sick of those two delicacies pretty darn fast.

In the spirit of this recent bug, I wanted to share a recipe with you that I could, maybe, perhaps consider eating without my body starting a revolt. But before I tell you about that, I have to take a moment to share a link with you for, supposedly, The Only Way to Make Cinnamon Toast. I mean, if it's going to be just about the only thing I can eat for several days straight, I better learn how to do it Right. Now, the The Right Way does seem to involve copious amounts of butter, which surely wouldn't sit well in my current state, as well as a mixture of cinnamon and sugar instead of my preferred straight cinnamon, but the sequence of preparation is certainly one to note. So, if you never knew there was a Right and a Wrong way to make Cinnamon Toast, I encourage you to check it out. You never know when you're going to catch a stomach bug and have to resort to a diet exclusively comprised of the stuff!

Now, back to non-toast foods that may potentially be okay for the sickly. Although I don't have any leftovers to test this theory out, this Chicken & Egg Soup seems innocuous enough yet decidedly not toast or plain eggs. And, I have to say, it is absolutely, phenomenally, 100% delicious! I used a garam masala rubbed chicken breast, which was a welcome spice against the clean yet prominent flavor of dill; the crunch from millet contrasted the creaminess from the egg; and the color was wonderful. I can imagine a touch of mustard or a replacement of the chicken with chickpeas or cubed tofu. I can imagine leaving out the millet and just sopping it up with some hearty bread. Best of all, you probably have enough ingredients in your kitchen already to throw this together, and it's beyond easy and quick to make. If my stomach muscles didn't feel so garsh-darn stretched when I merely stand up, I could totally make this right now. But alas, my gastric musculature is no friend of mine right now, and so cinnamon toast it is. The Right Way. Almost.

One Year Ago: Raspberry & Chocolate Ganache Cake with White Chocolate Buttercream

Happy Mother's Day to all of those fantastic moms out there! I tend to not get into the whole Mother's/Father's Days because I find them to be more or less silly. Don't get me wrong - I love my parents and they absolutely deserve recognition for all of the incredible things they do, particularly for my sister and me. It's just that spending $4.00 on a piece of thickened, colored paper that has some generic well-wishes on it and showering my Mom with diamond necklaces or roses that will fade in a few days...I find it all to be very trite. I try my best to spend time with my Mom all year long, and even if I don't look her in the eyes every day and say, "Mom, you're awesome, thank you for being who you are and who you are to me," I try to show it in my actions. 

So when Mother's Day rolls around, I'm all about the homemade cards and the smaller gestures. I took my mom out to lunch today to this adorable little cafe that she had been to recently with a friend, and even if I hadn't paid or even offered to paid, I still would've considered it a Mother's Day well spent. Because to me, it's so not about the money or going somewhere or anything like that. It's just about having some nice Mother-Daughter time, while still getting my Mom back to her sunny back yard while it's still bright and nice enough out to get some gardening in. 

I understand that Mother's Day is a bigger deal in some families. I lucked out in that my mom also doesn't get wrapped up in the hoopla of Hallmark, so my less-than-traditional approach (though I think decidedly more sentimental) to the whole thing is entirely forgivable. Because I know my opinion is not the only one, and I'm sure once I have little rug rats of my own toddling around I'll be singing a different tune (slightly, anyway), I wanted to have a post dedicated to the day nonetheless. I'm sure no one is sitting here at 3:15pm scrambling for a last minute recipe, but if you are, or if you want to get a head start on Father's Day or Mother's Day next year, or even just a nice, spring/summer soiree, this balsamic syrup is the way to go.

I found this recipe on Healthy and Gourmet, and was intrigued enough to give it a shot. You give me two ingredients that sounds kind of funky together, and all I want to do is try it. I brought the syrup to L's Easter celebration along with a tray of kiwi, strawberries, blueberries, pineapple, and sliced banana, for a sort of "fruit salad bar," using the syrup as the dressing. It's strong so you only need a modest drizzle, and it's certainly an addition to fruit that would be welcomed more by some than others, but if you like the play of sweet and sour off each other, and you like the light-yet-complex tones of a balsamic vinaigrette, I would highly recommend this. Although mine was much less viscous than the pictures on Healthy and Gourmet led me to believe it would be, it still wound up being a pretty solid hit at the dinner. I can imagine it going well with just about any fruit, alongside French Toast, over sorbet or gelato, mixed in with just the tiniest bit of liquid chocolate...and the list goes on. It's the easiest way to dress up a dish - I mean, how easy is it to cut up some fruit while this is simmering on the stove top? 

I apologize for the lack of pictures - as is generally the case when I make food to take somewhere else, I forgot to snap a picture before I left and did not think to bring a camera with me for on-the-scene, last minute shots. Besides, Healthy and Gourmet's pictures look tantalizing enough. No need for my amateur point-and-shoot practices getting in the way of true beauty!

 

 

 Before I wrote you a novel dedicated to Mexican-themed dishes for Cinco de Mayo, I lamented my own free-will decision to decline a dreamy Culinary Tour of Italy next year. Although I have officially confirmed that I will not be attending this quite surreal trip, I'd like to spend the next few paragraphs telling you all about another recipe that can give you a small taste of Italy in your own kitchen...just close your eyes and savor every bite, and you'll be transported off to beautiful Rome, or Florence, or some little tiny town that hardly anyone has ever heard of, but it perfectly magical all the same.

When I bit into this frittata caprese, I mellowed out a little bit. This dish has all of the flavors of a classic fresh tomato and mozzarella pie, yet with all of the clean, refreshing flavors of a light egg base. The only things I did change were adding a few spices, and to lightly roast my own tomatoes, which offered a very dainty, subtle complexity to an otherwise fresh taste; and the only thing I plan to change in the future (because yes, there is undoubtedly a place in my future for this dish) would be to drizzle just the slightest bit of balsamic vinegar over the top before serving. 

In addition to how perfect this frittata tastes, this method of preparing it affords lonely 'ole folks like me the opportunity to enjoy an egg-based "casserole" without piles of un-freezable leftovers that we could never eat our way through by ourselves. I always stare longingly at the quiche and frittata recipes I have saved, because I can't realistically make them at the apartment for myself and eggs are not the main-ingredient-of-choice for the rest of la famiglia. So this recipe is fabulous on two counts - not only are the flavors capable of evoking a calm, day-dreamy emotion from anyone who doesn't just scarf the frittata down, but also the method is one to keep in your back pocket for a quick yet undeniably delicious any-time-of-day meal.

Place the halved tomatoes face up on a lined baking sheet and place under the broiler, approximately 3-4 minutes, until they begin to sizzle and bubble. Flip them over to be face down and return to the broiler for another few minutes, waiting for the skin to wrinkle slightly but not quite blister. Remove from the broiler and allow to cool, enough to handle, and then coarsely chop them and set aside.

If there were a snazzy term for an excellent grouping of five items, and if I had two more Mexican-themed recipes in my backlog to share with you, this post and its title would be a whole lot more clever. As it is, I only have three recipes that could be considered festive on this celebratory day, and I personally have never heard of a "Pent"-ecta, so we'll stick with just the three. Although I have eaten nothing remotely Mexican-themed today (and let's not delve into the details of my very un-Nutritionally laudable meal plan so far), I did want to show my Holiday Spirit through the beauty of three phenomenal dishes that I threw together in ma propre tete (alas, it is quite a shame that I cannot speak even a smidgeon of Spanish).

The first meal came a fairly/decently/kind of long time ago, and is the reason why I had leftover homemade Salsa Verde that I teased you with - gosh! - eons ago, and then never posted about. My subconscious must have secretly been holding out for this day of all days. Anyway, I created a Chicken Salsa Verde Tortilla Stack, which turned out pretty well. The timing of the recipe flowed nicely and in my notes I even quoted Rachael Ray by calling it Dee-lish! It had a kick to it without being so hot that you need to soak your lips in a bucket of ice, and it had a very clean element to it (though, come on, with a tortilla stack I was kind of envisioning an oozing, corn-and-beans-falling-out-of-it, cheesy mess of a dish that bloomed into a Spicy Heaven in your mouth). I also had envisioned a crispier tortilla component, whereas mine just got a little soggy in the baking process. The chicken was pre-boiled to cook it before being shredded to assemble and bake, and while this was easy and a healthier alternative to constantly sauteeing/pan-frying everything, I wish it had had slightly more flavor. To remedy all of these set backs, next time I would: 

(1) Pre-Bake the tortillas to crisp them up before baking as a casserole                                                   

(2) Add a few more vegetables to give it the sensation of heft and serious eats without detracting from the clean element it has going on already.                                                                                           

(3) Marinate the chicken in some of the salsa verde before baking, rather than boiling, to help seal in more flavor.                                                                                                                                         

Overall, though, I thoroughly enjoyed this meal. I used smaller tortillas for a personal stack, but I can see it working out very well as more of a tortilla pie/casserole for a larger group, using the larger tortillas instead.

Next up we have a very easy black bean dip. Seriously, when the directions consist of "mash everything up in a bowl," I'm game. It was perfect for this week when the combination of moving and academic finals were enough to trigger my attraction to take out, which is usually subdued enough to be all-but ignored. I took some of the same tortillas I used in the previous recipe and crisped them up into chips in the oven (you see, I slowly learn from my mistakes!) to use as dippers, alongside some bell peppers. This dip was not bursting with flavor, but had a much subtler enjoyability to it. I found the quiet flavors as they came through to be reminiscent of a fairly standard black bean recipe, with cumin playing a major role in the spice department. The only thing I would add to this dip is a hint of lime, because I'm picturing the salt from the chip meeting a dash of lime in the black bean mixture, and my taste buds are theoretically going to town. I did really like dipping the bell pepper slices into the dip, but let's be real for a second - those homemade corn tortilla chips were pretty fantastic! They were crisp and golden along the edges with just the slightest chew in the center, and the sprinkling of salt across the top really did a wonderful job of enhancing...well, just about everything. (You see, I can use salt appreciatively - I just can't stand it being stuck inside a dish where it gets masked and overpowered. If I'm gonna eat salt, I want it to be added almost as an afterthought, sprinkled across the top of the dish so that it meets my taste buds confidently.)

Naturally, I had leftover dip by the end of this, since I wanted to make the full batch, which called for a convenient full can of beans (which I conveniently found at the back of my pantry before the move). So, the following day for lunch, I made what I can only endearingly refer to as "Tortizzas." Using the last corn tortillas in a tasty attempt to clear some space in my freezer, I made a nacho-turn-personal-pizza concoction that can only be described as Out of This World. I grew impatient in the pre-crisping of the tortillas, so I found the centers to be more akin to Cinco de Mayo Recipe #1 (the stack), meaning I would 100% advocating letting them bake for at least 5-10 minutes in the oven before adding any kind of topping whatsoever. As it is, it's a very fun way to interpret a quick personal pizza recipe, and it would be phenomenal with additional toppings such as salsa, sour cream, jalapeno peppers or chilis, etc.

So, Happy Cinco de Mayo, everyone! I hope you enjoy this trio of Mexican-inspired dishes, as I did (though on admittedly the very wrong day of May). The recipes below do reflect the changes that I would make if I were to make this again, which will likely happen in the not so distant future. 

2 six-inch corn tortillas

4-6 tablespoons black bean dip (above)

diced vegetables of choice (I used green bell pepper and spinach)

condiments of choice (I used cheddar jack cheese)

Lastly, I lied to you - I used the black bean dip in another recipe for eggs in a basket. However, that meal was such a hot mess of cheese, egg yolk, and wilted spinach that I couldn't bring myself to snap a picture of it. It was very delicious, so if you find yourself with extra bean dip I'd give it a shot, but I've already taken up enough space on here for one day!