Comunidad Health Foods

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!

I am in the very midst of passing up possibly the best darn opportunity dropped at my feet, and my own wishy-washiness is surely going to be my downfall as deadlines approach much too quickly. The faculty advisor of the Student Dietetic Association is planning a dreamy Culinary Tour of Italy - I know, I don't need to say anything else, right? Those three words in one sentence - culinary, tour, Italy - are enough to make your heart go aflutter and your salivary glands leap into action. For 9 days, this trip would send me to Florence, Milan, and Rome; to the Slow Food University and Chocolate tastings; and to museums and shops and little tiny cafe's or vendors on occasional free days. Hold on a second, let me correct myself - this trip would send me to all of those places to see all of those things, if I were going to go - which, chances are, I will not.

Don't get me wrong, there is a part of me that is crawling out of my skin to be there. The foodie within me is throwing a fit, kicking and screaming as my outer practicality looks on with apathy. I do have my reasons, some of which are totally lame, others (ahem, money) are much more justified. (Though, still...I could...but then... - you see? There is a civil war raging within me right now.) I think if it were a Culinary Tour of France I would have signed up even if it caused me to go bankrupt. I still would have hesitated, but I think every single person I know would have slapped me across the face if I had even considered turning that one down.With Italy, though, I have a few people in my life who are actually taking my side of things, and by my side of things I mean my rationale's side of things, and not my fantasy-driven-let's-have-an-under-the-tuscan-sun-vacation side. Because really, who wouldn't want that?

So, if you have not been given some crazy, random, out-of-the-blue, whimsical chance to explore the culinary culture of Italy - or, if you're like me and you have and you're still likely going to remain at home - try this recipe for Chicken Florentine on for size. Because even if you won't be eating it at the Slow Food University, or to counter-balance a day of decadent chocolate tasting, you can still close your eyes and pretend. You can bite into the creamy, salty mixture of sundried tomatoes, spinach, and parmesan cheese, all rolled up inside a seared chicken breast, and imagine yourself on the terrace of an Italian villa, perhaps next to some dark and handsome local who hardly speaks any English but whispers sweet nothings to you in Italian to make you forget about all of your cares and troubles. 

Okay, lest I lead you astray, this chicken recipe was not All That and a Bag of Chips. It was good, and I enjoyed it, but it does require some tweaking if it has any aspirations of sending its consumer toe the exotic small towns of Italy full of gorgeous Italian men. First, there is a long prep process, exacerbated by my own inability to properly pound chicken (re: you may not have such a difficult time here). Second, I believe I overcooked the chicken (which would be just about a first, with my tendency to gravitate toward the underdone side of things) - though I still find this hard to believe, as I cooked mine for 20 minutes when the recipe called for 30-40. Perhaps I browned it too long in the pan first, but definitely beware of that discrepancy if you make this before I have the chance to try it again to refine it.

This could pair very nicely with pasta or a side salad, though I simply served my roulades over a bed of the extra filling, as one of my low-carb meals of the week. Lastly, I cannot confirm how authentically Italian this is, but when I hear the word "Florentine" and then note a combination of parmesan, sundried tomatoes, and spinach, my brain goes to Italy - not that my brain needs too much persuading these days to take a mental trip there...

 

It's official! The Floptimism Kitchen has moved zip codes yet again, and as of 8pm tonight, 98% of it is out of boxes. The bedroom, on the other hand...well, I'm working on it. You can see where my priorities are.

I had every intention of cooking up a storm this last week of the semester, but little did I know what a lofty goal this was in combination with the move. Dinner came at 10pm last night in the form of jalapeno-topped pizza, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like a real college student. But even then, I planned to go to the grocery store today and start up with my more typical cooking habits. Then, something very significant happened (studying), and something equally significant did not happen (unpacking), and I threw in the towel. This week will be one of assembly more than cooking, to say the least. Peanut butter sandwiches? Cereal? Grilled Cheese? Meals of Champions, the dishes that will, this week, allow me to maintain some semblance of sanity. You see, Nutritionists are human, too.

I thought it'd be appropriate, then, to share with you a recipe that can be pulled together without anything except a few handy ingredients and a microwave. Edamame is not a full meal in itself, but prepared this way it certainly could be a tasty snack or memorable side dish / meal component. Ever since first being introduced to this fantastic little legume, I have thoroughly enjoyed a nice bowl of edamame pods sprinkled with some coarse salt. It has protein and healthy fats to tide you over between meals, and it has such a clean and satisfying flavor. Plus, finger foods are always fun. But little did I know just how incredible they could be! With just a small amount of flavoring, these pods can be transformed into a dish that will knock your socks off. My lips were burning by the end of it, but I was smiling to myself, enjoying every bit of it. The flavor was phenomenal, with the "meaty" savory components of the edamame mixed with the tangy lemon juice and spicy red pepper flakes.

Even if you don't like spicy food (which, if you're still reading, I'm thinking you probably do), try this out with other seasonings. Even just microwaving the frozen pods in lemon juice instead of water would be a wonderful change to the standard home edamame preparation. I have no doubt that the remaining few pods I have in my freezer will be making another zesty appearance on my plate before the week is out - they're the perfect solution to easy food prep to break up my insert-ingredient-between-two-slices-of-bread menu I've got going on for Final's Week.

No pictures today, but if you're curious, the blogger who posted about the original recipe had some pretty nice ones. Enjoy!

In just over 24 hours, the Floptimism Kitchen will move. I cannot begin to express how excited I am to be moving off of the equivalent of my university's Frat Row and into a Real Apartment, where Real People (with kids! And dogs!) live, far from the yards adorned with crushed beer cans and borough police who mail you pictures of your trash cans when they're overflowing and tell you to Be Cleaner Or Else. But all of that is very unrelated to food and cooking, especially considering the one upgrade I will not be making is in the kitchen department - both this year's kitchen and the one I'm moving to are equally and devastatingly small.

No, the reason I'm telling you about this (aside from the fact that I practically can't sleep from excitement) is that this move has prompted me to go on an eating frenzy to clean out my freezer and fridge rather than have to transport it all to the New Place. I am sitting here with an acute belly ache because my poor stomach is just not used to 2 pieces of Peanut Truffle Fudge, 1 slice of Chocolate Fudge Cake and a Great Many Spoonfuls of Mint Chocolate Pudding, all before 8pm. The good news is that I'm making fantastic progress on the junk food stores (and, for the record, I have a lofty fantasy of, once I run out of the junk, not buying more and only baking fantastically healthy desserts with the occasional sinful treat because I am, after all, human); the bad news is that well, I won't be getting my cholesterol levels re-checked anytime soon, to put it mildly.

You might be wondering right about now how my Chocolate Extravaganza at all relates to Brussels Sprouts. You see, I was sitting here, the remnants of my chocolate cake + pudding in a bowl beside me, and the bulk of said chocolate cake + pudding sitting a bit uncomfortably in my all-too-stretched stomach, thinking about what to update about. Do I share with you some of these decadent treats I have been indulging in this week? I considered it, and I don't mean to tease you because all of these things are just enormously enjoyable, but I just couldn't do it. I knew what I needed - a nice, big, healthy, green, salad; plain oatmeal with a sliced banana as the sole sweetener; a whole heaping pile of celery sticks. I scrounged through my recipe backlog - surely I had something redeemable in these files, and sure enough, I found what I was looking for: Brussels Sprouts!

Brussels Sprouts are the perfect food to counter this Floptimism Gluttony I am shamefacedly not at all ashamed to be putting myself through; can you think of something that seems healthier? Nutritionally, there are loads of foods that are better, but think about it. Think back to your childhood. Forget "Eat Your Broccoli;" how about "Eat your brussels sprouts?" What kid does that? What adult does that, for that matter? You say Brussels Sprouts and most people cringe down to their very core, because they are the vegetable that has single-handedly sucked the joy out of eating and given Healthy Food a bad rap.

But it doesn't have to be this way. You don't have to walk by those little green bud-like veggies in the produce section and turn away, afraid these lonely little buggers will catch your eye and make you feel guilty for being absolutely revolted. And you don't have to watch your kids turn into little Sarah Burnharts as they choke them down Because You Said So, and wouldn't let them eat that ice cream for dessert until they did. You can learn to love Brussels Sprouts. I know this, because I did. The first time I ate a Brussels Sprout (admittedly approximately 8 months ago), they came from the freezer section and steamed in a bag in the microwave. I ate them, cut up into small little bits, incorporated into my chicken and baked potato to try to mask the bitterness as best I could. The second time I ate Brussels Sprouts, they were baked and marinated in what I can only imagine was a maple glaze of some kind, and the bitter-sweetness blew me away. I was still hesitant, and still ate them tentatively, but I found a new appreciation for these complex little guys that I had never known before. I learned that, prepared the right way, their bitter flavor could be heavenly, refreshing even. 

In a world where sweet and salty flavor compounds abound, I think we lose sight of the nuances of those foods that, like Brussels Sprouts, deny our taste buds that instant gratification we have been programmed and socialized to covet. There is something phenomenal about biting into a ball of bitterness, glazed in something subtle to cut its intensity, but only slightly. Still, I understand when someone says they dislike Brussels Sprouts. Like wine, it is an acquired taste (do you like how I just made myself out to be some snobby, exclusive connoisseur of Brussels Sprouts? "Oh no, it isn't that Brussels Sprouts are bad - you just aren't well-versed in Brussels Sprouts enough to appreciate their true beauty"), and I don't expect Brussels Sprouts haters to just jump on my band wagon because I tell them they should.

This recipe is a good stepping stone. I gravitated toward it because it didn't involve smothering the 'sprouts in maple syrup and bacon, which is the all-too-common Trifecta of Brussels Sprouts recipes, but I actually found it to mask the bitterness even better than said Trifecta seems to (in my experience, anyway). Because of this, I was a little disappointed - I like it when the bitter compounds peek through and remind me of their existence; but for people who want to eat Brussels Sprouts because they think they should, but they  just can't get past that in-your-face flavor, this is a good one to have in your arsenal. The roasting allows for a smoky caramelization, and then a bit of lemon comes in to finish the job. Oh, and the butter and parmesan cheese probably help, too. Regardless, this turns out to be a delicious, flavorful, surprisingly light side dish (I cut back on some of the oil and butter measurements), and one that has the potential to cast Brussels Sprouts in a much more favorable light. So the next time you spot those green little rounds in the produce section, don't speed up and hope you can sneak by before they get you - slow down, and give these guys a chance.

I have on several occasions lamented my entrenchment in the world of boneless, skinless chicken breasts. I have whined and moaned about monochromatics, blank flavor palettes, and all around monotony. I have even gone so far as to broaden my qualms to encompass the meat industry as a whole. It goes without saying that this omnivore gets a little sick of meat now and then. Yet, for a long time, I shied away from the one ingredient that had the potential to be my genuine Saving Grace - the protein factor in many great vegetarian dishes that could lift me out of my chicken/meat rut and bring life back into my cooking. I'm talking, of course, about Tofu. I had eaten it before, but only rarely, and had never prepared it myself. It daunted me. Wouldn't it spoil in .5 seconds of being opened? How would I eat all of it myself? How would I eat any of it, for that matter, without any experience with it before? New ingredients don't often intimidate me, but this one certainly did.

Finally, I bucked up. I marched into my grocery store and with the utmost sense of purpose, I proceeded to...well, wander aimlessly, wondering where the heck they kept the stuff. I finally located it, snatched up a container, and left happily and optimistically with a new-found ingredient to generate inspiration in the Floptimism Kitchen once more.

I have to say, I have since used Tofu in several dishes, and although I'm certainly experimenting with how to flavor it off-the-cuff, sans recipe, the recipes I have chosen and followed have yet to lead me astray. This one in particular was absolutely phenomenal, and the words "light" and "refreshing" that so aptly describe it sound so inviting to me right now, as my third floor apartment at just 9:30 in the morning has already draped a veil of heat and humidity upon my entire being. I hear that rain is coming soon, perhaps to cool things down a little (not that I would complain about heat and humidity after such an extended, cold winter), but until then, a light, meatless stir fry with just a small dollop of yogurt sauce sounds wonderful.

I intended to update practically every day this week to chronicle how I was getting through Passover without succumbing to the all-too-common cake-and-matzah diet. I have had several peers express intrigue over my keeping Passover: "Oh, wow! That must be a great detox" because, you know, you're not supposed to eat wheat, barley, oats, rye, and a whole bunch of other things. You tell this to a group of health-conscious Nutrition majors and they hear, "you can't eat refined carbs! No dessert, no bagels, none of that stuff - excellent!" But this, of course, is not the case. Jews would not tolerate a holiday that involved a full week of such deprivation, so we have instead created matzah-derived flours and other such baking mediums. Therefore, the only thing we wind up not being at a loss for is kosher cakes and brownies - I cannot tell you how many servings of flourless chocolate cakes, brownies, apple cake, sponge cake, and other various confections I have consumed over the past week, and that's while making it a point to cut back on the usual Passover dessert consumption. It's just easier to eat a piece of flourless chocolate cake for breakfast than try to fill yourself up on fruit and yogurt, and it certainly takes up less prep time than eggs. You see how easy it is to justify horrendous eating habits during Passover?

However, the end of the academic semester threw a knife into my plans for diligent updates regarding my more laudable (and perhaps somewhat pretentious) approach to Passover. Trying to study for 4 advanced science exams at the same time, in case you didn't know, is unquestionably impossible - not to mention the other end-of-year responsibilities falling down on Us Collegians this time of year. So, forgive me. I hope everyone had a fantastic Passover and Easter, and that I'm not the only one enjoying a sudden and dramatic climatic shift into Summer (finally)! 

So, without further adieu, I bring to you the Passover-Friendly Edamame Nachos, which is a wonderful way to mask matzah (or, since tonight ushers in the chametz-eating period again, a perfect way to enhance a tortilla chip!) and get some nice protein in while you're at it. I'm always looking for fun, healthier ways of enjoying what is, essentially, bar food, and I think it's safe to say that this is a very tasty alternative to what would normally be a very heavy appetizer drenched in a whole lot of flavor, but not enough nutrients to meet my criteria for an actual dinner recipe. It comes together in practically negative seconds, and has this beautiful blend of sweet and savory, creamy and crunchy. I think using some sort of smoky spice (smoked paprika, curry powder, etc.) and a touch of sea salt to the finished product would take this dish to a whole new level (these additions are reflected in the recipe below), perfect for your next I-need-a-quick-dinner situation or sports-viewing party alike.

1 piece of matzah, broken into chip-size pieces, or a handful of tortilla chips

kosher/sea salt, to taste

A few months ago, I brought to you the ever-so indulgent Chocolate Champagne Sauce, ideal for drizzling over fruit and cakes alike, as well as sandwiching between warm bread, pastries, or cookies. You may have hated me for it, though I hope if you had the chance to make it, the initial taste test softened those evil eye stares you were beaming to me across the World Wide Web. That chocolate decadence came as a result of leftover alcohol in the Floptimism kitchen which, alas, has struck again. Sit back, it's story time. 

You see, there's this girl, and no matter how much a mango daiquiri or Bailey's-spiked chocolate milkshake may appeal to her, she just cannot seem to finish a bottle of booze., or down a glass of alcohol in less than several hours Despite this well-known trait, she walked into a liquor store one day to find a clearance sale, and the following bottle attracted her attention:

I mean, how could she resist it? A banana-flavored liqueur that's actually called, "I'm Bananas Over You?" On Sale? "I never treat myself," she thought, and with her lovely beau egging her on, she picked up that handle of banana cream liqueur, and marched out of the store (after paying, of course). That weekend, she proceeded to make a smoothie with it and top an already-excessive bowl of Ben & Jerry's Chunky Monkey with it, and she ended the weekend with the satisfaction of having enjoyed tasty alcohol at a frequency  (though certainly not a quantity) more expected of someone her age.

And then it sat. She brought it with her wherever she went (not really - although carrying a handle of liqueur to class would have evoked an interesting set of reactions; she really just brought it to and from her campus address when she left on the weekends), and yet partake of it again, she did not. "This must end," she declared, and so she opened up her trusty internet source to find a more agreeable solution.

After days of searching and finding nothing that called for more than 2 tablespoons of liquor at a time, she finally found it - the recipe she had been looking for all this time! What was it, might you ask? Well, it just so happened to be a Nutter Butter Banana Cream + White Chocolate Mousse Pie. It also happened to be Passover, and so this girl spent an afternoon fantasizing about the perfection that would surely come with the marriage between white chocolate and banana cream atop a nutter butter crust, but then she soon forgot such fantasies and set to work for a simpler, feasible version - just the banana cream layer.

And that is how this dessert, this new dessert perfection with a hint of leftover liquor, came into being. I cannot tell you how incredible this pudding is - in fact, I find that the word "pudding" almost demeans it. This banana cream dessert is sweet and full of banana flavor, fresh and soft and delicate, yet packing enough of a punch to leave you smacking your lips, licking your fingers, and finding that any ensuing stomach ache from its richness will surely be worth it. (Note: no such banana-related stomach ache was experienced, though I would imagine that had there not also been 10,000 other desserts on the Passover table last night and I had focused my attention solely on this little gem, it would be a definite possibility.)

How do you eat this Banana Liqueur Pudding, you ask? Why, just as you enjoyed the Chocolate Champagne Sauce, of course! Some people tried it in the little chocolate cordial cups I found in the pantry; others poured it over the most intense flourless chocolate cake on the planet (ie mound of gooey chocolate incredible-ness); and then others took the slightly more innocuous though equally intriguing route of drizzling it over a nice fruit salad. I, additionally, received much enjoyment from licking the bowl, the whisk, my fingers, and  even pot while/after making it (after the eggs were cooked, I promise!). It is versatile, and just as is the case for any truly phenomenal ingredient - it would make anything taste better, and it would certainly be a welcome addition to Passover dessert buffets (it calls for vanilla extract, though - I know, I know, for shame) and the  fast approaching Easter festivities alike.

I didn't change the recipe what-so-ever, but because I made it isolated from the nutter butter pie (which will absolutely be coming to the Floptimism kitchen sometime once this ban on chametz has been lifted), I'll post just the recipe for the cream below. Definitely follow the link for the full monty, though, if you so choose - there aren't any pictures, but my imagination has had no problem going to town creating that fantastic pie in my mind. It couldn't possibly be anything short of miraculous.