Comunidad Health Foods

I don't know about you, but vegetarian entrees fascinate me. You could put a plate of wildly exotic chicken in front of me and then a plate with a plain 'ole, homemade veggie burger in front of me, and I'm likely to choose the burger. And that's not because I'm a burger girl - I'm not. I just love the variation that comes with vegetarian meals. There's so much you can do just with beans alone, much less different vegetables and tofu (also sometimes known as unchartered territory for me, as of yet). I know in my brain that meat introduces more versatility to a diet (assuming you don't simultaneously rule out the good veggie options), but when push comes to shove, I am just always more excited by a dish like this one here, Chickpea & Roasted Pepper Bulgur Salad. A mouthful, but it sounds good, right?

Of course right.

This recipe for chickpeas and bulgurs and roasted peppers came from none other than the Smitten Kitchen, and it just may be the first non-dessert I've tried from her (I'm not going back into my 50+ entries to check this), and it was a big success. And by that I mean, I only made it for myself, so its recorded of pleasing its eaters is currently 1 for 1. Regardless, it's an extremely delicious option for a light dinner or lunch. I didn't switch much up, except the recipe calls for red peppers and yellow tomatoes, but yellow tomatoes hide from me at the supermarket, so I chose to do yellow peppers and red tomatoes. Then there was the dried parsley instead of fresh because, well, we've gone over that one before. I also may or may not have used a red onion - I tend to only buy white ones because I mostly cook my onions, and I never know how red ones are supposed to taste not mostly raw. I can't remember. This is why I now take notes on my meals - I do it for you guys. All for you, and only minimally to shield my pride from the embarrassment of never remembering anything about the food I eat by the time I get around to blogging about it. I really do need to catch up to speed here.

So anyway, I know that it's slightly past the season of lighter meals, and probably everyone on earth is posting about soups and stews and casseroles. But you can't eat heavy dishes all the time, right? And every so often you're still just in the mood for a smaller meal, right? So you see, I'm not being completely seasonally inappropriate. Except I'm sure tomatoes are out of season by now, so maybe I am. But regardless of season or appropriateness, this bulgur salad tastes good. It's a little citrusy and super light, yet you walk away satiated. There are varying textures going on, from slightly firm chickpeas to crunchy lettuce and soft bulgur and roasted peppers. Also, it looks pretty with all of the different colors playing off each other, and with crockpot season on our tails, it's not often these days we get to say that a meal both tastes and photographs well.

Bulgur Salad with Chickpeas and (Red) Peppers, courtesy of Smitten Kitchen
Yield: 4 as a main course (I cut it in half for 2 meals)
The Ingredients
1 1/2 C fine-grain bulgur
3 C boiling water
3 Tbsp. fresh lemon juice (I use the bottle, come on now)
1 tsp honey
1 tsp ground cumin
1/4 to 1/2 tsp cayenne pepper
Salt (omitted)
1/4 C extra-virgin olive oil
1 can chickpeas, rinsed and drained
6 oz drained jarred roasted red peppers, diced, about 1 C (I roasted my own - wait until you hear that story!)
1/2 C quartered yellow cherry tomatoes
1 small red onion, finely chopped (to reduce its bite, you can soak it and then squeeze it out with the bulgur for some or all of the absorption time)
1/4 C minced fresh parsley leaves (or an indiscriminate amount of dried, about 2 Tbsp. should do the trick)
1 medium head Bibb lettuce, leaves separated (or any salad greens - I probably used a spring or romaine mix) 4 pita breads, warmed and cut into wedges

The Method
1. Prepare the bulgur by placing it in a large bowl and adding the boiling water to it. Set aside, stirring only occasionally, until the bulgur has softened (15-20 min). For some reason, I'm always nervous to prepare grains this way (okay, I know the reason - it's because the back of the package doesn't tell me that I can, not that that's stopped me haphazardly preparing any other food group), so I just cooked it based on the instructions on the package.
2. No matter how you manage to cook the bulgur, once you get there, drain it well and return it to the bowl.
3. While the bulgur cooks, whisk the lemon juice, honey, cumin, cayenne, and salt (if using) together in a small bowl. Continue whisking as you slowly add the oil until the dressing is smooth, or an otherwise desired consistency.
4. Add the chickpeas, roasted peppers, tomatoes, red onion, and parsley to the bowl of bulgur and mix it up to incorporate it. I also heated mine on the stove top (in the same pot used to prepare the bulgur) for a little bit, because I prefer these kinds of things to be warm. Drizzle the dressing over the salad and toss to combine.
5. Assemble plates by lining them with lettuce, top with bulgur, and arrange the pita around it.

Aside from all of the chopping and prep work that goes into this, it's a very feasible meal to do for a weeknight, or the night before to bring in for lunch the next day. It kept well overnight in the fridge, and I don't think I have any complaints.

Now as for those homemade roasted red peppers, that story deserves a whole post of its own...

Today hovered in the 80s, warm enough for me to break out a pair of summery bermuda shorts, a tank top and flip flops and not spend the day shivering (as someone as stubborn as I am is apt to do). The sun was out, my windows were down as I drove home from class, and in my head I was pondering my plan of action in tackling a nice, light vegetarian dish consisting of chickpeas and pasta. I had been craving a little vacation from meat, my mom was having a rough and busy day, and there was this wonderful can of chickpeas hiding in our pantry, hoping someone would notice it. I certainly did.

When I got home, I started preparing immediately, thinking that I could prep everything early, spend some time doing work, and then pop the casserole in the oven to heat through. Then, of course, it took me 20 minutes to chop an onion (I am desperate for help in this area), and I grossly underestimated the time it would take to caramelize said onion. So, minor setbacks. I managed to pull it all together and things were going smoothly, until I went to add the liquid to the sauteeing chickpeas, garlic, and onions. And what was meant to be a paste reminiscent of hummus turned into a sea of broth. I doctored the recipe in a last ditch attempt to thicken it, but then, my shortage of pasta (a gross misinterpretation of the ingredient list, I fear) did not help.

To make a long story, well, slightly less long, we had a thick, creamy, pureed-chickpea soup with the occasional bowtie pasta showing up on our spoons, on a warm but thankfully not swelteringly hot day. It was not ideal, and I have much hesitation in sharing this recipe with you in its current state, but I will. Because I'm impatient, and maybe you are, too.

Chickpea Pasta Casserole, courtesy of Gourmet Fury
Yield: 8 side dish portions or, as I chose to do, roughly 4-5 main dish servings depending upon your guests' appetites
The Ingredients
1/2 lb. dry pasta*
1 large can chickpeas, drained and rinsed**
1 head roasted garlic (see instructions below)
1 small onion, chopped fine
3 C chicken stock (I used 3 packs of no-sodium bouillon)
1/2 C sour cream (I used light)
3 C grated parmesan (I ran out after 1 1/2 C...)
1/2 C fresh Italian parsley, chopped (I used 2 Tbsp. dried)
Salt and Pepper (omitted)
Good olive oil

The Method
1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F

2. Cook the pasta until almost a dente in a large pot of heavily salted water (or, you know, if you're a salt nazi like I am, just cook it in normal water). Drain and set aside.

2. In a large saucepan, sweat the onions in some olive oil until caramelized. Season with salt (optional, if you ask me). Add the chickpeas and garlic and cook over medium heat until the chickpeas are warmed through. Add the chicken stock and bring to a simmer.

3. Blend the mixture until smooth while drizzling in 1/3 cup of olive oil. Note: I did not add the olive oil, as I previously mentioned that I was having consistency issues. It was 100% liquidy and not at all like the pictures from the original recipe, which I encourage you to check out. Here, I also added 2 Tbsp. corn starch to thicken it. Stir in the sour cream. Add the pasta, half of the cheese, and the parsley.

4. Transfer to an oven-safe dish (I used a 9x13) and sprinkle the remaining cheese on top.

5. Bake in the oven until bubbly and the cheese is lightly golden, approx 10 minutes. Serve hot, drizzled with more olive oil.

*Note: Here is where I suspect I first went wrong. When I saw 1/2 lb. I said to myself, "Alright, Jess. There are 16oz. in a pound, so there are 8oz. in half. Now, although ounces are weights and cups are volume, a general rule of thumb is that 1 cup is 8oz. So, I'll cook 8oz of pasta, which works out to be roughly 1/4 C per person - a fairly typical serving size for rice, so that should be good, right?" It was nothing. So, I don't know where I went wrong, but you can bet that next time I'll be pulling out my scale to be sure.

**Note: I don't really know what a large can means. I used the typical 15.5 or 16oz. or whatever odd unit they come in, the cans. Maybe that was wrong, too, and had I used a larger size my soup would've been more of the paste that it was meant to be.

The verdict? Delicious! Although the sour cream certainly didn't make this completely saintly, this recipe managed to produce a thick, creamy "soup" (even if it wasn't supposed to) without the heavy cream or butter. Without olive oil. Think cream of potato soup, without the heaviness (and, you know, the potatoes). Think hummus in soup form. Without the olive oil. I cannot vouch for the recipe as it was supposed to turn out, but this in soup form was pretty darn excellent. If you have the same problem that I did, or if you would like a stick-to-your-ribs, protein-packed soup without the heavy cream or pounds and pounds of cheese (my dad thinks the dish could've used more salt and more cheese, but I'm way too stubborn to listen to such attempts at making my meals less healthy), just follow what I did and serve it up with a nice loaf of (homemade!) bread. It might not be a seasonal favorite right now, but come fall and winter, this would be really excellent. Or, feel free to correct my errors and make it the way it was meant to be, which I am very eager to try to accomplish again.

I'm sorry that there are no pictures. I spent the whole time fretting over the dish's consistency that it wasn't until the meal was done and I was staring at the few remnants of the dish on the table that I realized I hadn't taken any (not that it was all that becoming, anyway). So, if you're curious, please look at the original post because the photos there are enough to make you hop out of your seat right now to try this dish. Yes, even if you're reading it as late as I'm writing this post.

I have so many recipes in store for you. I don't know that I'll be cooking again for another week, although the piles of bananas in my freezer are begging to become a banana bread Father's Day treat, but I have plenty of recipes in a back log to tide us all over until then.

How to Roast a Head of Garlic
1. Preheat your oven to 400 degrees F.
2. Peel the outer layer of the garlic, leaving the cloves all stuck together and intact.
3. Slice 1/4-1/2" from one end of the head to expose the cloves.
4. Place on a baking sheet (I learned that muffin tins work swimmingly for this, but since I was only roasting one head and muffin tins are a pain to clean, I went with a regular baking sheet), and drizzle with olive oil.
5. Cover with foil and bake for 30-35 minutes, or until the cloves are soft.
6. Allow to cool, and when you can manipulate it with your hands, pluck out the cloves and do with them as you please. For this recipe, I mashed them up.