Veggie Might: Wild Rice Salad with Edamame (or Fresh Fava Beans and Three Hours)

Written by the fabulous Leigh, Veggie Might is a weekly Thursday column about all things Vegetarian.

I’ve been so bored by my lunches of late: repeat appearances of grain-bean-green bowls, salad after endless green salad, and I’ve been looking for something new and exciting, but simple enough to make quickly or ahead in bulk. I was seduced by the photograph accompanying this recipe Wild Rice and Edamame Salad at Chow.com.

Mmm...wild rice and edamame. So pretty! So healthy! So springy! But when I clicked through, the secondary and tertiary ingredients were woefully disappointing. Dried fruit and nuts? Five tablespoons of oil? Honey? So sweet! So oily! So blechy! (I probably hold the minority opinion here, but bear with me.)

But I was inspired. I tossed out the original recipe and recreated the dish based on what I wanted it to be: a savory and tangy, high-protein, high-fiber salad I can take to work for lunch or serve at a picnic. I replaced almost everything except the primary wild rice and edamame.

My first attempt was still a little oily (at 2 tablespoons), so I cut back even further and found success. I’d happened on fresh fava beans at my local market and thought they’d make a delicious alternative to the edamame for my second go. I was right, but here’s the thing. You really have to want fava beans.

It took me six episodes of the Big Bang Theory to shell two pounds of beans. Do you want to know the yield of my three-hour effort? One cup of fava beans and 10 pruney fingers. While the resulting salad was delicious, it was not better than the edamame version, and certainly not worth the toil if time is precious.

Third (and fourth) time was perfection. Back to edamame, I achieved the right balance of oil to lemon juice, dressing to salad, and bean to rice. And though I found my flavor grail, I think this recipe would be equally good with leeks or shallots, parsley or mint, and lemon juice or lime—whatever your taste buds desire. Maybe even dried cranberries and honey.

~~~~

If this recipe tips your canoe, swim on over to:

• Black Bean Salad with Fresh Corn
• Chopped Salad Rules
• Making Friends—Fava Beans Redeemed

~~~

Wild Rice Salad with Edamame (or Fresh Fava Beans and Three Hours)
inspired by Wild Rice and Edamame Salad at Chow.com
Serves 6

1 1/4 cup edamame, shelled (or fresh fava beans, shelled and hulls removed*)
1 cup uncooked wild rice
3 cups water
1/2 cup carrot, grated
1/2 cup celery, finely chopped
1 tablespoon + 1 teaspoon olive oil
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 tablespoon leek, minced
1 tablespoon fresh mint, chopped
2 teaspoons sea salt
1 tablespoon black pepper

*Check out this informative slide show for easy, if labor-intensive, fava bean management.

1) Cook 1 cup of wild rice in 3 cups of boiling water for 40 minutes or until fluffy and tender.

2) Make dressing by whisking together 1 tablespoon olive oil, lemon juice, leeks, salt, pepper, and mint in a large mixing bowl. Allow to meld while thawing your edamame or shelling fava beans, if you’re going the martyr route.

2a) Remove fava beans from pods, and then hulls from beans. This can take a couple of hours if you're alone. Netflix helps.

3) Quick-sautee edamame or fava beans in garlic and 1 teaspoon olive oil for 1 to 2 minutes. In a mixing bowl, toss dressing, rice, and beans with carrots and celery.

4) Serve at room temperature or chilled as a side or over salad greens.

Approximate Calories, Fat, Fiber, Protein, and Price per Serving
Edamame-style: 176.5 calories, 5.4g fat, 2.5g fiber, 3.8g protein, $49
Fava Beany: 168 calories, 4g fat, 2.3g fiber, 2.4g protein, $.61

Calculations
1 1/4 cup edamame: 236.3 calories, 10g fat, 10g fiber, 21.3g protein, $0.74
[1 cup fava beans: 187 calories, 1g fat, 9g fiber, 13g protein, $1.50]
1 cup uncooked wild rice: 571 calories, 2g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $1.33
1/2 cup carrot: 26 calories, 0g fat, 2g fiber, 0.5g protein, $0.16
1/2 cup celery: 6 calories, 0g fat, 1g fiber, 0g protein, $0.08
1 tablespoon olive oil: 159.6 calories, 18.6g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.11
1 tablespoon lemon juice: 6 calories, 0g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.12
1 tablespoon leek: 54 calories, 0g fat, 2g fiber, 1g protein, $0.25
1 tablespoon fresh mint: 0 calories, 0g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.04
2 teaspoons sea salt: negligible calories, fat, fiber, protein, $.02
1 tablespoon black pepper: negligible calories, fat, fiber, protein, $.02
TOTALS (with edamame): 1059 calories, 32.6g fat, 15g fiber, 22.8g protein, $2.87
PER SERVING (TOTALS/6): 176.5 calories, 5.4g fat, 2.5g fiber, 3.8g protein, $49

TOTALS (with fava beans): 1010 calories, 23.6g fat, 14g fiber, 14.5g protein, $3.63
PER SERVING (TOTALS/6): 168 calories, 4g fat, 2.3g fiber, 2.4g protein, $.61

Read More →

Wayback Machine: Spring Soup, So Many Ways

Sweet readers, we're taking the week off to catch up on some real-life work. In the meantime, we're re-posting some of our favorite recipes and essays. This one was written by Leigh last week. Blogger ate it during their 24-hour loss of service, so we're re-posting. Enjoy!

New Yorkers like their soup. Just how much was a phenomenon unfamiliar to me when I moved here in the mid-’90s and found myself serving it by the bucket to insatiable Upper West Siders. Diners based their lunch orders on the soup du jour and were often despondent if told their favorites were off-menu or, even worse, sold out.

It’s just soup, I would think, sometimes aloud to my fellow waitrons. But what did I know; I grew up eating soup from a can. Occasionally, my grandma would try to get me to eat her homemade vegetable or chicken noodle, but I rebuffed her advances. It wasn’t sodium-rich Campbell’s, and I would have none of it.

As a frugal eater-outer, soup never seemed like a good bargain. A bowl of soup can run upwards of $6 or $7 dollars in a New York restaurant. As a vegetarian, the “is there meat in it?” question is often difficult to nail. One chef/waiter’s meat-free soup is another’s fish stock surprise. A bowl of watery, mushy vegetables just didn't seem worth it.

But somewhere along my home-cooking journey, I discovered something: soup is amazing. It can be simple or complex, light or hearty, bland (in a good way) or rich. Soup is a fabulous way to get vegetables into the diet and, with few exceptions, is easy to make. I don't know what took me so long.

I stumbled on this simple, rich and light green pea soup on Chow.com a few weeks before Easter. The vibrant green color caught my eye; it looked like spring and tastes like spring: green peas, leeks, fresh mint, a squirt of lemon. The sun came out just to see if it could have a taste. With only a few ingredients, this brightly colored soup whips up quickly and makes an impressive starter or light lunch supplement.

Coincidentally, my colleague E supplied the optional crème fraîche when she whipped up a batch from scratch. It was lighter than I expected and added a delightful tanginess to the sweet peas.

Take Chow's advice to water down commercial broth, if you go that route. I didn't for my first batch, which made for a very oily soup when combined with the whole tablespoon of butter the original recipe suggests. I recommend halving the fat and using home-brewed broth (or watered down store-bought) for a less greasy mouthfeel (ew…I said mouthfeel).

Now for the variations. I've made this soup about five or six times since Easter when it made it's debut (to raves). After a couple of batches, I started changing up the veg and the herbs, and it just kept being fantastic, like changing the curtains when you want to freshen up the living room. The variations are listed below the recipe.

I finally get it. Soup is easy, delicious, and versatile, and except for the eating out part, 8 million New Yorkers can't be wrong.

~~~~

If this recipe floats your boat, paddle on over to:

• Chilled Summer Squash Soup
• Sweet Potato Soup with Swiss Chard
• Vegetarian Miso Soup

~~~

Green Pea Soup
Serves 4–6
adapted from Green Pea Soup from Chow.com

1/2 tablespoon unsalted butter or olive oil
1 medium leek, root trimmed, halved lengthwise, and thinly sliced (white and light green parts only)
2 teaspoons kosher salt, plus more as needed
2 1/2 cups homemade vegetable broth or 1 cup low-sodium store-bought vegetable broth mixed with 1 1/2 cups water*
1/8 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, plus more as needed
3 cups shelled fresh peas (from about 2 1/2 pounds of peas in their pods) or 16 ounces frozen peas, thawed**
1/4 cup loosely packed fresh mint leaves***
1 teaspoon freshly squeezed lemon juice, plus more as needed
Crème fraîche, optional

1) Heat olive oil or butter in heavy bottomed sauce pan. Saute leek in oil with pinch of salt. Add broth and bring to boil.

2) Add green peas, remaining salt, and black pepper. Return to boil, reduce heat, and simmer for 5 minutes.

3) Remove from heat, stir in mint (or parsley), and allow flavors to meld for 10 minutes or so.

4) Transfer soup to a blender and puree in batches until smooth. Add lemon juice to tasted.

5) Serve hot or cold with a dollop of crème fraîche or a sprinkle of finely chopped mint or parsley.

Broccoli Potato Variation
Makes 6 servings
* 4 cups vegetable broth
** 12 ounces broccoli, chopped + 8 ounces, red bliss potatoes, washed and chopped into 1/8" dice

At step 2, add broccoli and potatoes, remaining salt, black pepper. Return to boil, reduce heat, and simmer for 10 minutes or until potatoes are soft.

Cauliflower Variation
** 16 ounces frozen cauliflower, thawed
***1/4 cup parsley

At step 2, add cauliflower, remaining salt, and black pepper. Return to boil, reduce heat, and simmer for 5 minutes.

Approximate Calories, Fat, Fiber, Protein, and Price per Serving
Green Pea (four servings): 131.8 calories, 1.9g fat, 5.5g fiber, 6.6g protein, $.78
Broccoli Potato (six servings): 85 calories, 1g fat, 4g fiber, 3.6g protein, $.59
Cauliflower (four servings): 71 calories, 1.9g fat, 3.8g fiber, 3.6g protein, $.73

Calculations
1/2 tablespoon butter: 70 calories, 7.5g fat, 0g fiber, 0.5g protein, $0.08
1 medium leek: 54 calories, 0g fat, 2g fiber, 1g protein, $0.25
2 teaspoons kosher salt: negligible calories, fat, fiber, protein, $.02
2 1/2 cups homemade vegetable broth: 50 calories, 0.25g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.48
1/8 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper: negligible calories, fat, fiber, protein, $.02
16 ounces frozen peas: 350 calories, 0g fat, 20g fiber, 25g protein, $2.19
[12 ounces broccoli: 164 calories, 0g fat, 20g fiber, 16g protein, $1.32]
[8 ounces red potato: 140 calories, 0g fat, 4g fiber, 4g protein, $1.00]
[16 ounces cauliflower: 108 calories, 0g fat, 9g fiber, 9g protein, $1.99]
1/4 cup loosely packed fresh mint leaves: 0 calories, 0g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.08
1 teaspoon freshly squeezed lemon juice: 3 calories, 0g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.00

Note: One teaspoon of crème fraîche per serving adds 7.7 calories and .7g fat.

Green Pea Soup
TOTALS: 527 calories, 7.75g fat, 22g fiber, 26.5g protein, $3.12
PER SERVING (TOTALS/4): 131.8 calories, 1.9g fat, 5.5g fiber, 6.6g protein, $.78

Broccoli Potato Soup
TOTALS: 511 calories, 8g fat, 26g fiber, 21.5g protein, $3.53
PER SERVING (TOTALS/6): 85 calories, 1g fat, 4g fiber, 3.6g protein, $.59

Cauliflower Soup
TOTALS: 285 calories, 7.75g fat, 15g fiber, 14.5g protein, $2.92
PER SERVING (TOTALS/4): 71 calories, 1.9g fat, 3.8g fiber, 3.6g protein, $.73

Read More →

Veggie Might: Farm Tourist

Written by the fabulous Leigh, Veggie Might is a weekly Thursday column about all things Vegetarian.

Spring makes me want to dig in the dirt and make green things grow. I begin to picture a fire escape container garden with trellising bean vines and hanging tomato plants. But two things prevent me from making this yearly urban-farming fantasy a reality: my tiny New York City apartment gets no direct sunlight, and I’m terribly absentminded. So I water my low-light houseplants and leave the food growing to the pros.

Plus, the best part about buying fresh produce is chatting up the farmers at the farmers’ market. My neighborhood market draws the same group of upstate New York and eastern Pennsylvania farmers every year, and they become a part of our community. The Morgiewicz family supplies the majority of my vegetables from April through Thanksgiving, and the folks Breezy Hill Orchard from rock the best stone fruit I’ve ever put in a pie.

But even that can’t beat spending a day on a farm, seeing firsthand where your food comes from. Such was my weekend when I trekked south for the 16th Annual Piedmont Farm Tour sponsored by Carolina Farm Stewardship Association in April. The tour brought together 40 farms across Orange, Alamance, and Chatham counties in central North Carolina, on the eastern edge of the state’s Piedmont region.

Accompanied by my best friend Angela and her hubby Jesse, who live in Pittsboro, in Chatham county, my boyfriend CB and I got to take a peek at four farms in two days despite thunderstorms and tornadoes. We met farmers and talked to sustainable agriculture enthusiasts; we dined at restaurants that served locally sourced produce, dairy, and meats; we made friends with a few animals; and we marvelled at compost—twice.

Our first stop on Saturday was Harland’s Creek Farm in Pittsboro, a certified organic farm that produces flowers, vegetables, herbs, and pastured poultry. Harland’s Creek provided a tour brochure so guests could wander the grounds at their leisure.

Their flowers and herbs are grown in a formal parterre garden of raised, geometrically shaped beds, which reminded me of photographs of English country estates. The stunning historic farmhouse added to the illusion. As we pinched off tiny bits of herbs to smell and taste for identification (fennel and lemon balm or was that lemon verbena?), CB made fast friends with a pair of cats. It would be a recurring theme for the weekend.

Next up was Aryshire Farm, also in Pittsboro, which we visited after waiting out the thunderstorms. We were lucky to be farmer Bill Dow’s last tour of the day, and gratefully slogged through red clay mud to see and hear about his certified organic pear, apple, and peach orchard, blueberry bushes, and vegetable terraces. About halfway through the tour, we were joined by a group of beer-drinking senior citizens who enjoyed themselves as much as we did, but perhaps for different reasons.

Dow grows primarily lettuces and greens for local restaurants, working directly with chefs to produce the produce they want. "I'd never heard of rapini before I started growing it," he quipped. Rapini, mizuna, arugula…he plants what they serve.

He also asks the chefs who visit his farm to bring their waitstaff with them, since as he puts it, "They're the ones talking to the people who eat the food."

Dow explained how he prevents erosion and conserves water on farm. By building terraces on the gently sloping land, water that would normally wash down the hillside is trapped and used by the plants at each level. And he distributes organic fertilizer (manure and compost) from the back of a beat-up old pick up truck that it is the envy of teenagers county-wide.

In late fall, he plants cover crops, like red clover, that are turned into live mulch in the spring. He pointed to the clover tops that were just starting to turn pink explaining that they were most nitrogen-rich and ready to be turned. He then walked over to a small three-sided shed, that housed a small tractor, hand tools, ropes, and buckets. He pulled out a garden hoe, much like one you might use in your backyard garden, except the handle was nearly as long as he was tall.

“The Dutch are better than us in two things: art and gardening.” He then demonstrated that with this Dutch-made, long-handled implement, you could turn the soil or break up weeds without stooping and hurting your back. He offered the hoe for one of our party to try. She passed her brewski to her husband and marveled at its ease of use.

As the tour wrapped, Dow’s dog Kate joined our posse and made fast-friends with CB. She followed him back to the car where we said our goodbyes, but not before Dow offered us a terrace for lease. The four of us looked at each other in contemplation. CB and I quickly said no; but I suspect we may be hearing about Angela and Jesse’s farm-fresh rapini in seasons to come.

Sunday, we set out for central Orange County to visit Avillion Farm, a fiber farm in the small Orange County burg of Efland. A fiber farm raises sheep, goats, and/or rabbits for their fleece which is spun into yarn or thread for knitting, weaving, crocheting, and countless other fiber arts. I’m a knitter/stitcher, so I just had to see the fuzzy animals, which Avillion had in abundance: adorable sheep, goats, and bunnies at every turn. More friends for CB.

Another self-guided tour, we learned from posted signs that, while Shetland sheep and Angora rabbits produce Shetland and Angora wool respectively, Angora goats produce mohair. We also saw a demonstration of vermicomposting of the rabbit poo and cleaned up at a homemade foot-powered hand washing station made of recycled water cooler jugs. It was well worth the hour drive north, and I managed to avoid spending my life’s savings on yarn.

With daylight on our side, we made one last stop: at McAdam’s Farm, also in Efland. A former tobacco farm, McAdams is a conventional farm that produces strawberries, flowers, produce, and raises beef cattle. Howard McAdams is the fourth generation of his family to work the land, making the switch from tobacco in 2000.

McAdams took us on a tour of his produce and strawberry fields, explaining just how labor intensive a crop of strawberries can be. Depending on soil quality and climate, the planting window can be as little as a week, and they must be replanted every year to ensure a healthy, productive crop.

Compared to blueberries, which are mostly at eye-level, strawberries are close to the ground; so harvesting is backbreaking work. That explains the popularity, among farmers at least, of pick-your-own strawberry patches, and why berries come at such a premium.

McAdams uses conventional farming methods, like black and white plastic mulch, along with chemical herbicides and pesticides to keep unwanted plants and critters at bay, and commercial fertilizers to enrich the sandy, coarse soil. He explained, laughing, that his land, unlike much of the surrounding rich red clay was great for tobacco but not that great for vegetables.

Angela made this trip an extra special experience. She is not just my best friend since high school; she is also an incredibly active member of the vibrant sustainable agriculture community of Chatham County. She is the manager of the Pittsboro Farmers’ Market and has been a champion of organic, local food since I can remember.

She asked so many great questions of the farmers, showed us the organic student farm used by the Sustainable Ag program at Central Carolina Community College, and took us for some amazing local fare. Every restaurant we visited, even the greasy-spoon diner and the burgers-and-fries sports bar, boasted local produce, meats, and dairy products.

A stand out was the Saxapahaw General Store in the tiny former-mill-village of Saxapahaw, in Alamance county. A combination restaurant/biofuel gas station, it’s a green oasis where you can fill up your converted minivan with cooking grease and your belly with maybe the best mac and cheese ever to pass these teeth.

In the weeks since my return to the big city, I’ve been thinking about the cost of food, particularly conventional versus organic produce, and I think I get it even more than I did before. Neither are easy to cultivate, and both are subject to the whims of weather, pests, and proper planning. In two days I saw vastly different farming methods in action and met the hard-working people behind them. It was suddenly plain to me why, organic or not, berries are so very expensive, and why organic produce comes at such a premium. Hearing Dow describe spreading manure from the back of a pick up truck with a shovel made me laugh in the moment—as CB said, “I’ve never met an unfunny farmer,”—but now I realize just what it means.

Farming takes commitment and passion, no matter what the scale. Dow is connected to his crops—he knows every plant and tree—and his reward is great, though his output is smaller than a conventional farm. McAdams takes a more business-like approach to his farm, focusing on the big picture of managing a mid-sized operation, and he clearly takes pride in carrying on his family’s legacy.

I’ll also remember how much time and sweat and pollen goes into raising food the next time I start planning my imaginary kitchen garden. This was one of the most eye-opening and delightful trips I’ve ever taken to my home state. My only regret is that I don't have a picture of farmer Dow showing off his superior Dutch hoe.

~~~~

If this flight tickled your fancy, flutter this way:

• A Confession and A Prayer to Remain Tailess
• Organic Foods: When to Splurge
• The CHG Guide to CSAs

Read More →

Veggie Might: Steamed Asparagus - Don't Gild The Lily Shoots

Penned by the effervescent Leigh, Veggie Might is a weekly Thursday column about the wide world of Vegetarianism. She says: Please delight in these darling lambs from Avillion Farm and my favorite asparagus "recipe" from an April 2009 visit to NC. Veggie Might will return with refreshing new content next Thursday.

Sometimes vegetables should just be left alone.

This past weekend, I spent three glorious days in the North Carolina sunshine with my best friend, A., and her husband and two-year-old. It was little C’s birthday, and I just couldn’t resist a circus-themed party.

Friday night before the big event, A. and I were fixing dinner: something light and fast before the hotdogs, cupcakes, and apple juice to come. A is the manager of the local farmer’s market in her area. One of the perks is first dibs on fresh produce while the farmers set up their stalls.

From her fridge, she pulled out a bundle of perfect, young asparagus stalks: the first of the season and the sweetest I’d ever tasted. We ate the thinnest stalks raw as we washed and snapped off the ends of the rest.

C toddled up and A. gave him a stalk. He took the asparagus and munched gleefully. I’ve never seen a kid eat vegetables like that. (I’ve also never typed the word “gleefully” before, but hey.)

“Sautee or steam?” A. asked.

“Steam,” I replied. It seemed like gilding the lily to put those perfect stems of green spring goodness in oil or butter. Turns out asparagus is a member of the lily family. Who knew? (Well, the people at that link and Mark Bittman.)

As you know, I’m a big fan of sautéing vegetables in garlic. How many recipes have I shared with that step? But even I know when to leave well enough alone.

A. seemed to know just how long to cook the asparagus, but I would have had to get help. I don’t trust myself for two reasons; I get impatient, and I get distracted.

I have no patience for standing over a pot of boiling water, even for a few minutes. After a minute has past, you can guarantee I will have wondered off like a two-year-old to see what else is going on, and then the veggies will have overcooked.

According to Mark Bittman’s How to Cook Everything Vegetarian, asparagus should be boiled in a skillet or steamed in a pan with just a bit of water at the bottom “just until the thick part of the stalk can be pierced with a knife.” Well, just how long is that? It depends on how much you’re cooking, of course. In our case, a bunch of about 20 stalks took 3 minutes to steam. A set a timer which let us wander guilt-free.

They were perfect: tender, slightly crunchy, vibrantly green. I know that, classically, asparagus is served with hollandaise or mayonnaise, but I’ve never understood why. Who thought to drench something so light and delicious with such heavy sauces?

We didn’t even think to salt our Carolina-grown spring bounty. If A. salted the water, I didn’t notice.

Our supper of fresh-from-the-farm veggies was one of the easiest and best meals I’ve eaten in a while. It reminded me that, sometimes, it’s best to let food be itself.

Steamed Asparagus
Serves 3 – 4

20 asparagus stalks
1/2 cup of water

1) Wash asparagus and break off woody ends.

2) Put water in sauce pan. Put asparagus in steamer basket or bamboo steamer and place over sauce pan. (You can also use the Mark Bittman methods above.)

3) Bring water to boil.

4) Steam for approximately 3 minutes or until thick ends of stalks are tender.

5) Dress as desired or eat plain. Plain is good. Really good.

Approximate Calories, Fat, and Price* per Serving
Four servings: 15 calories, .1g fat, $.37
Three servings: 20 calories, .13g fat, $.50

Calculations
Asparagus: 60 calories, .4g fat, $1.50
TOTAL: 60 calories, .4g fat, $1.50
PER SERVING (TOTAL/4): 15 calories, .1g fat, $.37
PER SERVING (TOTAL/3): 20 calories, .13g fat, $.50

*Price is from my local market.

Read More →

Veggie Might: Creamy, Cheezy, Smoky, Spicy Grits with Kale

Penned by the effervescent Leigh, Veggie Might is a weekly Thursday column about the wide world of Vegetarianism.

This week’s recipe is brought to you by my recent jaunt to my second home state and adjectives.

My boyfriend and I were in North Carolina’s Triangle region this past weekend to visit my best friend A and her hubby J, and to experience the 16th Annual Piedmont Farm Tour, sponsored by the Carolina Farm Stewardship Association.

The farm tour was delightful, informative, and organically delicious. Over two days, we toured four farms despite thunderstorms and tornadoes, which were mercifully to the east and south of us.

You’ll hear more about the farm tour in the coming weeks. In the meantime, I present to you these tasty, comforting grits that are helping me recover from travel and resume the swing of city life.

Grits is a versatile side dish that is traditionally served with breakfast, but makes a marvelous alternative to potatoes or rice with supper. I picked up a big bag of hominy grits at the Piggly Wiggly in Pittsboro, but it also comes in white and yellow corn varieties.

I ask only three things of grits: be creamy, be cheesy, and be spicy. Hot sauce takes care of spicy, and any good Southerner serves grits with a bottle of Tabasco or Texas Pete on the table. Creamy can be satisfied with butter and milk or their nondairy counterparts. I use a little nonhydrogenated vegan margarine and a splash of soy milk.

Cheesy is a trickier proposition if you're steering clear of dairy products, which I try to do for the most part. Once in a while I'll splurge on a little cheese, but for everyday eating, I avoid it. A few sprinkles of nutritional yeast does the job of adding the tang of cheese, as well as B12 vitamins.

For an extra punch of nutrition, I chose kale for its heartiness and texture. Kale stands up to the porridge and won't disappear like more delicate greens. And since no Southern dish is complete without a hamhock or or slab of bacon, I subbed my new favorite vegetarian alternative: smoked paprika. It adds a subtle hint of smoky flavor and leaves the pigglies still wiggling.

From now on, I'll ask four things of my grits. But no worries; they're up to the task.

~~~

If you dig this xx, you may also dig:

• Pan-American Grits with Quinoa
• Tofu Veggie Scramble
• Quinoa-Millet Mushroom Risotto

~~~

Creamy, Cheezey, Smoky, Spicy Grits with Kale
Serves 6

1 pound kale, washed, destemmed, and chopped
1 teaspoon olive oil
3–6 cloves garlic, crushed and chopped
2–3 tablespoons water

1 1/3 cups hominy grits
5 1/3 cups boiling water
1 tablespoon soy milk
2 tablespoons nutritional yeast
1 tablespoon nonhydrogenated vegan margarine
1 tablespoon smoked paprika
1 tablespoon salt
black pepper to taste
hot sauce to taste

1) Wash, remove stems from kale, and chop. Heat olive oil in large heavy bottomed skillet. Cook garlic over medium heat for a minute or two, then add kale by the handful, stirring as it wilts. Drizzle in a couple tablespoons of water, cover, and simmer for 5 minutes. (I like my kale on the crunchy side. Cook a little longer if you like yours softer.) Set kale aside.

2) In a large sauce pan, bring 5 1/3 cups water to a rolling boil. Slowly pour in grits while stirring. Mix in soy milk, vegan margarine, nutritional yeast, smoked paprika, salt, and black pepper. Reduce heat to medium-low and continually stir grits for 5 minutes, or until desired consistency is reached.

3) Fold in sauteed kale and serve hot with a dash of with hot sauce alongside baked tofu or scrambled eggs.

Approximate Calories, Fat, Fiber, Protein, and Price per Serving
188.5 calories, 3.8g fat, 1.8g fiber, 2.7g protein, $.48

Calculations
1 pound kale: 198 calories, 0.4g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $1.74
1 teaspoon olive oil: 39.6 calories, 4.6g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.03
3 cloves garlic: 12 calories, 0g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.04
1 1/3 cups hominy grits: 682 calories, 5g fat, 11g fiber, 16g protein, $.20
1 tablespoon soy milk: 5.4 calories, 0.3g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.02
2 tablespoons nutritional yeast: 94 calories, 1.4g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.66
1 tablespoon nonhydrogenated vegan margarine: 100 calories, 11g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.12
1 tablespoon smoked paprika: negligible calories, fat, fiber, protein, $.02
1 tablespoon salt: negligible calories, fat, fiber, protein, $.02
black pepper to taste: negligible calories, fat, fiber, protein, $.02
hot sauce to taste: negligible calories, fat, fiber, protein, $.02
TOTALS: 1131 calories, 22.7g fat, 11g fiber, 16g protein, $2.89
PER SERVING (TOTALS/6): 188.5 calories, 3.8g fat, 1.8g fiber, 2.7g protein, $.48

Read More →

Veggie Might: Eating Thoughtfully and Gratefully

Written by the fabulous Leigh, Veggie Might is a weekly Thursday column about all things Vegetarian.

Y’all, I’m still thinking about how eagerly and joyfully you came toAline’s aid last week. You proved that it takes very little to make a real and tangible difference in someone's life. Often, when we see ads on TV for starving children or sick animals, we turn off because the situations seem hopeless. But Aline is a real girl with a real need and your $5 and $10 donations were plenty to change her life for the better. Betsy recommends Give a Little: How Your Small Donations Can Transform Our World for more on giving small to make a difference.

I’ve been thinking a lot about Aline and the girls at the Ubushobozi Project lately in regards to food too. My dear friends Betsy and Dolinda have been volunteering at the Ubushobozi Project in Ruhengeri, Rwanda for several years, and this summer I’m riding their coattails to Africa to teach knitting, crochet, writing, and English to the girls. (Fingers crossed they’ll teach me to dance.)

As a vegetarian, one of my primary travel concerns is what I will eat away from home. I admit it’s a little crazy, but that was my first question for Betsy about going to Rwanda—not Is it safe? or What kind of shots do I need?, but What can I eat there?

I think about food a lot: because it’s my job as a food blogger, because I’m a vegetarian, because I’m frugal and always looking for ways to save, and because I love to eat. Sometimes I worry that all this thinking about food borders on psychosis. You’ll often find me planning supper while eating lunch or discussing one meal while partaking in another. My boyfriend laughs, “I don’t know what I’ll want to eat later; I’m not hungry now.” But I can always think and talk and plan and drool about food.

When I asked what they eat in Rwanda, Betsy took my query seriously and told me I’d be fine: that they eat primarily a starch-based diet of potatoes, rice, beans, fresh vegetables, and very little meat; and that no one would be offended if I passed on the stewed goat. There is also a contingent of Seventh Day Adventists, which means vegetarians are common. “You may get invited to church,” she added with a laugh.

Then I started worrying. Maybe I should pack granola bars. I need to eat every few hours or I get headaches. Then Betsy told Kristen and me about Aline and her backyard kitchen.

In case you missed it, Aline’s only means of cooking is a backyard charcoal stove; when it rains, she has three options: cook in the rain, take her pot over to the elderly neighbor, or, if it’s raining too hard, not cook at all. As Betsy reported, “[Last night it rained] So Aline took the only money she had and bought two pieces of bread for Diane and Olive [her sisters] and they ate bread and avocado. Lola asked her why she didn't eat with them and she said, ‘Aline eat Ubushobozi, no fear.’ So she didn't eat dinner. She ate lunch at Ubushobozi around 2 p.m. and that's it.”

This young woman works to support her two sisters and doesn’t eat when it rains. I can’t go three hours without shoving something in my face. My family didn’t have much when I was growing up, but I do not know what it’s like to truly go hungry. I felt like a world-class jerk.

Betsy agreed that "the guilt is overwhelming sometimes. Every day and night I know I will eat. My biggest problem is deciding what to eat, order, buy, shovel in my mouth for instant gratification. Not survival. Aline and all the girls (and all the girls everywhere in impoverished nations) have to purchase their foods every day, since there's no fridge/storage options, and cook it on the spot. This can take hours, purchasing charcoal, getting the fire going, blah, blah. It's like a part time job."

Kris, who traveled to India, shared a story from her trip that is equally humbling.

"One night, S. and I stayed in a converted haveli in the middle of rural Rajasthan, just outside of a small, poorest-village-I've-ever-seen called Perharsar, where most of the haveli staff was from.

"The next morning, we wandered into town to check things out. The people were super nice, and all the kids followed us shouting "Hello!", even when we left.

"About halfway through the jaunt, we made our way to the roof of one of the homes, where a very, very old man was making small clay pots on a wheel/kiln. His family was there, as well, except one woman who was climbing the stairs with two plates of lentils and chapati. When she saw the two of us, she immediately offered us the plates. We refused and thanked her, having already eaten breakfast.

"Then, she gave the plates to her two small children and one or two other women standing around them. SHE OFFERED US HER KIDS' BREAKFASTS. I've never experienced hospitality like that. The kids, of course, wolfed it. Lentils and all."

How do we—wealthy, well-fed, clothed-and-sheltered we—handle stories like this?

We can feel bad about all that we have, about the excess our country produces and wastes. Or we can be grateful and embrace our abundance as the very thing that allows us to give what we can to girls like Aline and know that we're making a direct difference.

And personally, I could learn to go four hours without eating.

Readers, what is your take? Any stories from your world travels? Advice on dealing with conflicting feelings of guilt/gratitude? I'd love to hear your thoughts. The comments are open for you to let 'er rip!

~~~

If the bubbles of this article ticked your nose, fill your flute with:

• Feed the World: Holiday Volunteering and Food Donations
• So This Is Christmas: 37 Food Philanthropies
• A Confession and a Prayer to Remain Tailless

Read More →

Veggie Might: Love Your Vegetables—Broccoli Almond Stir-fry

Penned by the effervescent Leigh, Veggie Might is a weekly Thursday column about the wide world of Vegetarianism.

Gentle readers, I’m still crying into my keyboard over the outpouring of generosity you displayed yesterday. Aline’s kitchen is going to be so rad. My heart is bursting, and you will be hugged if we ever meet face-to-face.

Now let me pull myself together so we can talk broc. A few posts ago, I challenged myself to investigate new ways to cook veggies and learn a little about how to prepare them to maximum awesomosity. To this end, I checked out two books from the library: Barbara Kafka’s Vegetable Love and Leanne Kitchen’s The Produce Bible.

I had the pleasure of hearing Ms. Kafka speak about James Beard a couple years ago, and I remembered her witty, charming style, sharing anecdotes about the innovator of American cooking. Vegetable Love has that same easy charm, while maintaining its old-school sensibility, in the manner of Beard and Julia Child, who never met a vegetable that didn’t benefit from a heavy dose of butter, cream, or pork fat. It’s only a cookbook for vegetarians or vegans if you’re okay doing recipe renovation.

But! I love her devotion to classic methods and technique and the book’s Cook’s Guide section; it’s got awesomosity! Each vegetable is listed alphabetically with its varieties, along with preparation, cooking, and storing methods. She even gives a few tips for creating your own recipes. Now I know everything about vegetables.

The Produce Bible is a beautifully photographed modern tribute to fruits and vegetables, and features two recipes per selection, along with a brief write up about basic uses, prep, and cooking methods. Plus, vegetarian cookbook hero Deborah Madison wrote the intro, so it’s riding on some veg cred.

Armed with a little BKafka knowledge (use a vegetable peeler on broccoli stems! the average broccoli head weighs 1 1/2 pounds!), a tasty looking recipe from LeanneK (Broccoli and Almond Stir-fry!), and a glorious, green head of broccoli, I made a side dish to die for supper twice this week. Bonus: No extra ingredients were purchase in the making of this dish.

Fast, easy, and super tasty, CB has already requested further repeat performances. He’ll get no arguments here. Broccoli and Almond Stir-fry has maximum awesomosity.

~~~~

If you fancied this recipe, your sensibilities may be delighted by:

• Cauliflower with Ginger, Garlic, and Green Chilies
• Smokey Mustard Greens
• Steamed Asparagus

~~~

Broccoli and Almond Stir-fry
Serves 3
From The Produce Bible by Leanne Kitchen, slightly modified

1 teaspoon coriander seeds, crushed
1 head broccoli, about 1 1/2 pounds, cut into florets
1 teaspoon olive oil
2 tablespoons slivered almonds
2 cloves garlic, crushed and minced
1 teaspoon ginger, grated
2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
1 tablespoon soy sauce
2 teaspoons sesame oil
1 teaspoon tahini or 1 teaspoon toasted sesame seeds

Note: The rapid pace once cooking starts makes it essential to have all your ingredients prepared before you begin.

1) Cut the broccoli into florets on the small side for faster cooking. Save the stems for another dish or soup stock. Give the coriander a mash in a mortar with a pestle, or if you’re me, in a shallow bowl with the bottom of a glass; a coarse crush is what we’re looking for here. If you have whole almonds on hand, chop about 12 of them for slivered almonds. Crush and mince the garlic, and grate the ginger. Remember, freezing the ginger in advance makes it a bazillion times easier to grate.

2) Combine, in a small bowl or glass measuring cup, red wine vinegar, soy sauce, sesame oil, and tahini. (If you’re using sesame seeds, sprinkle them on as a garnish.) Wisk to combine and set aside.

3) In a large, heavy-bottomed skillet or wok, heat the olive oil over medium heat; add the coriander and almonds, and stir until the almonds are golden-brown, about 1 minute.

4) Toss in garlic, ginger, and broccoli, with a splash of water if necessary. Cook for two minutes until broccoli is bright green and tender. Remove from heat. Pour dressing over broccoli and toss to combine.

5) Serve immediately with rice pilaf and a revived love of flowering cabbage.

Approximate Calories, Fat, Fiber, Protein, and Price per Serving
138 calories, 7.6g fat, 7g fiber, 6.7g protein, $.66

Calculations
1 head broccoli: 164 calories, 0g fat, 20g fiber, 16g protein, $1.50
1 teaspoon coriander seeds: negligible calories, fat, fiber, protein, $.02
1 teaspoon olive oil: 40 calories, 4.6g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.03
2 tablespoons slivered almonds: 81 calories, 7g fat, 1.5g fiber, 3g protein, $0.08
2 cloves garlic: 4 calories, 0g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.01
1 teaspoon ginger: 2 calories, 0g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.02
2 tablespoons red wine vinegar: 6 calories, 0g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.20
1 tablespoon soy sauce: 11 calories, 0g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.04
2 teaspoons sesame oil: 79.2 calories, 9.24g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.06
1 teaspoon tahini: 27 calories, 2g fat, 0.5g fiber, 1g protein, $0.03
TOTALS: 414 calories, 22.8g fat, 22g fiber, 20g protein, $1.99
PER SERVING (TOTALS/3): 138 calories, 7.6g fat, 7g fiber, 6.7g protein, $.66

Read More →

Veggie Might: Recreating Comfort Food—Deconstructed Vegan Pot Pie

Written by the fabulous Leigh, Veggie Might is a weekly Thursday column about all things Vegetarian.

There are a few comfort foods from childhood I’ve still never gotten around to vegetarianizing, and chicken pot pie has been one of them. My mom was not a “from scratch” cook, so I didn’t have a platform to jump from; and remembering how much I loved those individual frozen chicken pot pies has been enough to sustain me all these years.

Then in December, The Kitchn posted a recipe for a vegan pot pie that’s been haunting my dreams. It has everything: golden-brown tofu cubes in place of chicken, a savory broth of nutritional yeast (nooch) and soy sauce, peas and carrots, and a flaky crust that would make Mrs. Swanson cry.

But I’ve been working hard lately to rein in my waistline, and the last thing I need is another pie in my repertoire. I started thinking: “What if I take this bad boy apart and make it with a grain, like millet? Then I could call it Deconstructed Vegan Pot Pie, like I’m a fancy food person, and save about 20 grams of fat.” So I did that, and it was one of the best things I’ve ever put in my mouth. CB agreed in his typically dry fashion, “This tastes just like pot pie. The tofu is surprisingly like chicken. It’s really good.”

There were a few deviations from the original recipe, aside from scratching the crust. I swapped out the mirepoix (onions with carrots and celery) at the saute stage for just onions and used frozen mixed vegetables (carrots, peas, green beans, lima beans, and corn) instead of just peas. You can use whatever vegetables your heart desires; fresh or frozen, it’s your call. Next time, I would add broccoli to the mix. I also upped the nooch by a teaspoon and ditched the salt. It’s plenty savory to my taste.

Just about any grain would work too. Millet is stubborn, being birdseed and all, and takes no less than 35 minutes to cook and at least a 2:1 water to grain ratio. To substitute another grain, just modify your cooking time and liquid amounts accordingly, throw your veg in during the last five minutes of cook time, and you’re golden. Quinoa, cous cous, or amaranth would make terrific substitutions.

There’s no crust to contend with, so you could feasibly make this one-pot dish on a weeknight for supper, though it does take about an hour; and the leftovers are divine if you have any. I wrangled a serving for lunch the next day, and, it smelled so good, I was threatened with theft.

Deconstructed Pot Pie is firmly in the both the comfort food and healthy food rotations. Mrs. Swanson, you’ve been replaced.

~~~~

If you dig this recipe, point your shovel toward these treasures:

• Savory Squash Pie
• Smokin’ Summer Stir-Fry
• Vegetarian Shepherd’s Pie

~~~

Deconstructed Vegan Pot Pie
Inspired by Vegan Pot Pie from The Kitchn
Serves 3 to 4

1/2 cup millet
8 ounces extra firm tofu, pressed and cubed to 1/4” dice
1 teaspoon extra virgin olive oil
1 small onion, chopped
3 cloves garlic, crushed and minced
1 red potato, diced
1 tablespoons nutritional yeast
2 tablespoons soy sauce
1 1/2 cups vegetable broth
1 1/2 cups water (or more as necessary)
2 cups frozen mixed vegetables, like peas, carrots, and green beans
1 teaspoon dried thyme, crushed
black pepper to taste

1) Using a large skillet, brown cubed tofu in teaspoon of oil. You may need a bit more oil depending on the type of skillet you’re using. A well-seasoned cast iron skillet or nonstick skillet will require only about a teaspoon. When tofu is golden brown, stir in onion and garlic, and cook until onion is translucent.

2) Add potato, soy sauce, and nutritional yeast, stirring occasionally until potato is just cooked through. Drizzle in a bit of water as necessary to keep things moving. Your kitchen should be smelling great.

3) Pour vegetable broth and 1 1/2 cups of water into mix and scrap anything stuck from the bottom of the pan. Stir in millet and crushed thyme, and bring to a boil. Reduce heat, bring broth to a simmer, then cover and cook for 35 minutes. Peek in and stir occasionally, adding more water if necessary. There should always be enough broth to just cover the millet.

4) After about 35 minutes remove lid and add frozen vegetables. Replace lid and cook for another 5 minutes until the vegetables are tender and millet is fluffy. When the vegetables are cooked to your liking, remove from heat and give a couple grinds of black pepper and a dash of salt if necessary. (I found the soy sauce/nooch combo to be enough saltiness.)

5) Spoon the deconstructed pot pie bowls for a comforting supper. Serve warm with a green salad and expect a hug.

Approximate Calories, Fat, Fiber, Protein, and Price per Serving
3 Servings: 340 calories, 11g fat, 10g fiber, 28g protein, $1.12
4 Servings: 255 calories, 8g fat, 7.8g fiber, 21g protein, $.84

Calculations
1/2 cup millet: 378 calories, 4g fat, 8.5g fiber, 11g protein, $0.42
8 ounces extra firm tofu: 250 calories, 12.8g fat, 16g fiber, 64g protein, $0.80
1 tablespoons olive oil: 120 calories, 14g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.08
1 small yellow onion: 20 calories, 0g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.25
3 cloves garlic: 12 calories, 0g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.04
1 small red potato: 56 calories, 0g fat, 1.6g fiber, 1.6g protein, $0.40
1 tablespoon nutritional yeast: 47 calories, 0.7g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.33
2 tablespoons soy sauce: 16 calories, 0g fat, 0g fiber, 2g protein, $0.12
1 1/2 cups vegetable broth: 30 calories, 0g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.29
2 cup frozen mixed vegetables: 90 calories, 0g fat, 5g fiber, 5g protein, $0.60
1 teaspoon dried thyme leaves: 0 calories, 0g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.02
1 teaspoon black pepper: 0 calories, 0g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.02
TOTALS: 1019 calories, 33g fat, 31g fiber, 84g protein, $3.37
PER SERVING (TOTALS/3): 340 calories, 11g fat, 10g fiber, 28g protein, $1.12
PER SERVING (TOTALS/4): 255 calories, 8g fat, 7.8g fiber, 21g protein, $.84

Read More →

Veggie Might: Embracing the Asthma-thlete Within

Penned by the effervescent Leigh, Veggie Might is a weekly Thursday column about the wide world of Vegetarianism.

About four years ago, I started working out regularly for the first time in my life. Since my childhood diagnosis, I’d used asthma as an excuse for never pushing myself to exercise. I began slowly by riding my bike to work. A year later, through a friend, I found an exercise class I liked. It met weekly, but required a monthly commitment, and I thought I can do this for a month. That month turned into a year, then two years, then a gym membership.

Riding my bicycle through New York City’s streets gave me a thrill like I’d never experienced. It was like being in a video game. My heart pounded as my legs pumped the pedals, whizzing past cars and buses. It was exhilarating. In the class, I discovered the outer limits of my endurance and a confidence I never knew existed. I pushed myself like never before.

In three years, 40 pounds had disappeared. The weight loss was so gradual that I barely noticed it—except that my clothes didn’t fit—because for the first time in my life, weight loss was not driving my endeavor. My primary concern was loving that person in the mirror and making sure she was healthy. My confidence was soaring.

What surprised me most was that I had done nothing about my diet. Not much needed to change, since I already ate a healthy, home-cooked, whole foods diet. I’ve always been a “5 small meals” eater, so I tend to eat smaller portions. I rarely denied myself the occasional indulgence or the occasional over-indulgence, and I still lost weight. I wasn’t counting calories beyond what I do for CHG. I merely added exercise to my life.

All was going well until I hit a roadblock last fall. As a freelancer, I hate saying no to work, and I found myself completely over-committed—for an entire month. First my social life went by the wayside. My friends understood, especially the ones with babies. Then cooking all but ceased. If it wasn’t going to be blogged about, it wasn’t getting made. Finally, the gym gave way. I still walked to the office every day, but my beloved 3-times-a-week exercise class fell by the wayside.

It’s only temporary, I told myself. But I knew me. I knew how hard it had been to establish that routine I was so proud of myself for maintaining.

Just as I feared, one month became two became four. I felt my energy level decrease, my asthma worsen, my clothes tighten, and the guilt build. Oh Heather, it’s so hard to break out of that shame spiral.

But I did it. Since the new year began, I’ve been back at the gym and my favorite class, walking more, and once the weather is nice, I will be back on my bike. I am lucky to have the support of my boyfriend and some very good friends who are on similar journeys. Now I know from experience I can get back on track and stay there. And if I slip, it’s okay. I’m a happy, healthy human who can have her Newman O’s and eat them too.

Find an exercise or activity you enjoy.
Anything that gets your body moving will do. Talk a walk. Throw a frisbee with someone. Dance around your living room if that suits you. Just do it a couple of times a week at first, and you’ll want to do more.  IntenSati is the mind-body cardio practice that got my body moving. Find what you love and get going. (Check with your doctor before beginning any exercise program.)

Slow and steady rules the day.
Whatever your fitness goals, slower is better. You’re more likely to keep weight off longer the slower you lose it. And don’t try to do everything at once. Start with exercise, and then incorporate dietary changes. Or build up to adding strength training into your routine. The longer you give yourself to adjust to the changes you’re making, the more likely they will become lasting changes.

Find a buddy (or three).
You may prefer to exercise alone, but it’s important to have a support system for the emotional part of getting and staying healthy. Not everyone wants to hear that you did 30 minutes on the elliptical this morning before work. So round up a couple of like-minded friends who do. You can be there to share each others triumphs and pitfalls. Connecting can be as simple as emailing a friend or joining an online message board. Spark People is a terrific online resource for health and fitness information, plus community support.

Your best is good enough.
Competition is at the core of many exercise and sports programs. But when you are trying to get healthy, for whatever reason, your best—right now—is good enough. If all you can do is walk to the corner and back, do that. Then do that twice a day, then three times. You get the idea. Eventually, you’ll be a triathlete if that’s your goal. In the immortal words of Senator Stuart Smalley, “You are good enough, smart enough, and doggonit, people, like me you.”

Gentle readers, I’d love to hear your thoughts. What are your favorite ways to exercise? What do you do to snap out of a slump? The comments are yours.

~~~~

If this tips your canoe, swim on over to:

• How to Lose Weight and Keep It Off: 10 Rules to Live By
• Trading Butter for All the Broccoli in China: Getting Healthy Takes Practice
• Why Weight Maintenance Is Harder Than Weight Loss, and How to Help It Along

Read More →

Veggie Might: One for My Teetotalers - How to Substitute Alcohol in Baking and Cooking

Written by the fabulous Leigh, Veggie Might is a weekly Thursday column about all things Vegetarian.

Gentle Readers, it’s St. Patrick’s day. In honor of the drinkingest holiday of the year, let's talk about booze. Sort of.

Here at CHG, we have a healthy appreciation for hootch, being responsible citizens and lovers of life. A glass of wine, a bottle of cold beer, or the occasional Jager shot a well-crafted cocktail make an evening with friends or a holiday party that much more enjoyable/tolerable.

The flavors of our favorite beverages are unmistakable, and we drink them for their good taste more than their soothing aftereffects. Or so we tell Aunt Helen. Ingredients like wine and sherry and Grand Marnier are included in recipes for the same reason. Their flavors are unmatched and give our recipes that je ne se quois we seek.

Red and white wine, vermouth, sherry, beer, bourbon, brandy, and a flavored liqueurs like coffee (Kahula, Tia Maria), orange (Cointreau, Grand Marnier, Triple Sec), and anise/licorice (Ouzo, Pernoud) are commonly used in cooking and baking recipes. These are the staples to have on hand if you’re keeping a well-stocked culinary bar.

But while the we of CHG appreciates a nip with dinner and splash in the cream sauce, the me of CHG is a reluctant teetotaler. I’ve got this brain thing that doesn’t like it when I drink, and while a little bourbon in my pecan pie is probably okay, I just don’t keep the stuff around; it’s not worth the expense for the occasional recipe—or the risk of a trip to the emergency room.

“But Leigh,” you exclaim, “it’s not about the alcohol, it’s about the flavor! And all the alcohol evaporates during cooking!”

Yes: true and mostly true. Most people make tequila chicken for the enhanced flavor the liquor imparts, not to get one up on their friends at margarita night. And most, but not all alcohol is cooked away when booze is applied to recipes, though claims vary as to how much evaporates during cooking. According to Kevin Weeks at NPR.com, “depending on cooking method and time, you can reduce the alcohol by 60 percent by simmering for 15 minutes, or by as much as 90 percent after two hours of simmering.” But when cooking for children or people with health or addiction issues, even a little bit can be too much.

So what then? Weeks suggests choosing another recipe, and I agree if the liquor is the distinguishing feature of the dish, like Julia Child’s famous Boeuf Bourguignon—it’s meat soaked in red wine. Something tells me it would be an altogether different experience if you decided to let your boeuf braise in grape juice overnight.

But if I passed up every fondue or stew that called for a splash of kirsch or a glug of beer, my repertoire would be quite limited—and I could toss away half of the recipes from France. So I improvise with what I have.

For example, broth or stock is an easy substitution for wine or beer in many savory dishes, like soups, sautés, and risottos. Fruit juices, like apple and grape, can replace wine in desserts. If you want a note of acid, add little vinegar. It won’t be the same, as I’m sure some would argue, but it will still be delicious.

In some cases you can just leave out the booze. Fondue will be just as good without kirsch, but keep an eye on it; the alcohol in the liqueur is there to lower the boiling point of the cheese.

In the last year I’ve made two outstanding dishes that were no worse for lack of wine. Both were from the fabulous Viva Vegan, which is still getting heavy play in my kitchen. Red Posole and Beans called for Mexican beer which I replaced in equal measure with vegetable stock, and the resulting stew was to die for.

For Quinoa-Millet Mushroom Risotto, I swapped the 1/2 cup of white wine, traditionally used in risottos, for 1/2 cup of apple juice + 1 tablespoon of apple cider vinegar. It remains one of the best things I’ve ever put in my mouth.

When baking, replace liqueurs with similarly flavored extracts and juices. Vanilla is the most commonly recommended stand in for bourbon; almond extract works great in place of amaretto; and brandy has its very own cooking extract. Orange, apple and grape, and pineapple juices fill the void left by orange liqueur, dry and sweet vermouth, and rum.

Now, it must be said that extracts contain alcohol, which works as a solvent to break down the fruit or herb so that the maximum amount of flavor is obtained. Vanilla extract is 35% alcohol by volume, or 70 proof, not far off from vodka. But the minute amount used in baked goods, partnered with dilution and evaporation, will unlikely cause anyone to feel its effects.

According to Cook’s Thesaurus, 1 tablespoon of brandy extract replaces 5 tablespoons of the real deal, yet measure for measure, they have a similar alcohol content. Extract is a safe alternative unless you’re abstaining for religious reasons or are hypersensitive. Flavored oils, powders, and straight-up ingredients like vanilla beans, may be your best solution if you want to avoid alcohol altogether.

We all love charts, right? Well, here are some handy charts, fresh from the Internet machine, to guide your alcohol-free baking and cooking adventures:

• All Recipes: Common Ingredient Substitutions
  
• Uncle Phaedrus: Wine Substitute
  
• What’s Cooking America: Alcohol Substitutions
  
• Gourmet Sleuth: Alcohol Substitutes
  
• Recipe Tips: Alcohol Substitutions
  

If you have any nonalcoholic baking or cooking tips you’d like to share, the comments are open. I’d love to hear your thoughts. Slàinte!

~~~~

If these bubbles tickled your nose, you’ll lose your head over:

• Baking and Cooking for the Sensitive and Cleansing  
• Converting Those Pesky Weights and Measures  
• 10 Modern Food Myths, Busted

Read More →

Veggie Might: Love Your Vegetables — Smokey Mustard Greens

Penned by the effervescent Leigh, Veggie Might is a weekly Thursday column about the wide world of Vegetarianism.

I don’t feel like I’m eating vegetables if I’m not eating leafy greens. Though corn will always be number one in my heart, greens are my favorite everyday vegetable. Depending on the variety, you’ll find vitamins A, C, E, and K, along with iron, calcium, magnesium, manganese, and folate in significant quantities per serving of leafy green. (If you’re concerned about calcium, forget the yogurt and make yourself a batch of collard greens.)

When it comes to the leafies, I’m not picky, though if you pin me down I’ll choose Swiss chard for its brightly colored stems and delicate flavor. The half-Southerner in me loves collards and turnip greens too; and I’ll always delight in a dish with kale or an arugula salad.

I was craving the hearty bite of kale when I picked up a bunch mustard greens last week at the market. The lighter green and less hefty leaves were stashed under the “kale” label. A few glances around the produce section indicated the store was out of kale and trying to trick me with mustard greens; so I went with it.

I sautéed my unintended take in my usual olive oil, onion, garlic way. The resulting side dish was far from a disaster, but it came out more bitter (bitterer) than I recall mustard greens being. They weren’t dandelion greens, people.

A few days later, I remembered Lidia Bastianich’s method for taking the edge off broccoli rabe, which is to let the veg simmer in water for a few minutes after a quick sauté. What if I applied this technique to mustard greens?

A miracle. With a smidge of smoked paprika (or liquid smoke) for that Southern flavor, mustard greens have never tasted better. CB and I had them with our Middle Eastern tapas plate and I’ve had them again with lunch for a few days. They just keep getting better.

This little adventure has inspired me to learn new (and proper?) ways of cooking vegetables, especially greens. I filled up my library hold list with vegetable-specific cookbooks this week in anticipation, so, look out for more straight-up veg from me in the coming months. And, if you have any tips for cooking greens, give me a shout in the comments. I’m always looking for new excuses to buy kale.

~~~~

If this recipe floats your boat, paddle on over to:

• Collard Greens and Black-eyed Peas
• Sweet Potato and Swiss Chard Soup
• Kale and Root Vegetable Salad

~~~

Smokey Mustard Greens
Serves 4
Inspired by Lidia Bastianich’s Broccoli Rabe with Oil and Garlic

16 ounces mustard greens (about 8 cups), washed, woody stems removed, and torn
2 teaspoon olive oil
1 small onion
6 cloves garlic
1/8 to 1/4 cup water
1 teaspoons smoked paprika
1 teaspoons salt
1 tablespoon black pepper

1) In a large heavy bottomed skillet, like cast iron, sauté onion in oil for two minutes until soft. Add garlic, paprika, salt, and pepper. Stir and cook for one more minute.

2) Add mustard greens by the handful, stirring until they are coated with spices and begin to wilt.

3) Once all greens have been added to the pan, add water, cover, and simmer for about five minutes. Remove cover and cook one or two more minutes.

4) Serve alongside any entree, but don’t be surprised if the greens are the star of the meal.

Approximate Calories, Fat, Fiber, Protein, and Price per Serving
60 calories, 2.3g fat, 4g fiber, 4g protein, $.48

Calculations
16 ounces mustard greens: 112 calories, 0g fat, 16g fiber, 16g protein, $1.49
2 teaspoons olive oil: 79.2 calories, 9.24g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.05
1 small onion: 20 calories, 0.1g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.25
6 cloves garlic: 24 calories, 0g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.07
1 teaspoons smoked paprika: negligible calories, fat, fiber, protein, $.02
1 teaspoons salt: negligible calories, fat, fiber, protein, $.02
1 tablespoon black pepper: negligible calories, fat, fiber, protein, $.02
TOTALS: 235 calories, 9.25g fat, 16g fiber, 16g protein, $1.92
PER SERVING (TOTALS/4): 60 calories, 2.3g fat, 4g fiber, 4g protein, $.48

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Veggie Might: Making Friends—Fava Beans Redeemed

Written by the fabulous Leigh, Veggie Might is a weekly Thursday column about all things Vegetarian.

Fava beans have been haunting my dreams ever since the unfortunate Fava Bean Disaster of 2009. Every now and then, when it’s quiet and my thoughts turn to food, I find myself thinking about them and how I might redeem myself from such a fiasco.

On Sunday, I wandered into my local deli to pick up seltzer and something snacky to shove in my mouth while watching the Oscars. I aimlessly strolled the aisles until the smallish Middle Eastern foods section caught my attention. The deli owners hail from Yemen and keep two shelves at the back of the store stocked with beans and tahini.

I picked up a can of fava beans and made my way to the cash register. The clerk on duty, Khaled, who knows me and my preference for orange seltzer, looked at me with surprise when I put the can of fava beans on the counter.

“This is Arab food!” he said, smiling.

“I like Arab food,” I replied.

He laughed. “Do you know what to do?”

Jackpot! I thought.

“No, tell me.” I whipped a notebook and a pen from my bag and wrote down exactly what he said.

“Okay. Just oil, onion, garlic, tomato sauce, a half a tomato. Mix it all up. Wait. Mash beans first. But put in last.”

“Hang on a sec...,” I said. This was going to take some sorting. Then a man who’d been standing nearby chimed in. His name was Altef.

“Cook the onion and garlic. Then add the tomato sauce. Mix in the mashed beans,” he said.

“And some water,” Khaled interrupted. “Mix all together.”

“It sounds terrific.”

“Yes,” said Khaled. “Come back and tell me.”

We exchanged smiles and handshakes as the fava beans and I ventured out into the night.

Readers, you are third to know (CB was second) that I’ve finally had a fava bean victory! Like a Middle Eastern version of bean dip, this recipe makes a savory, tangy, garlicky spread for pita, crackers, or chips. Which is great for me, because chips and dip is CB’s second favorite food after pizza.

I made a couple changes to Khaled and Altef’s recipe. Since tomatoes are out of season, I substituted “tomato sauce and 1/2 tomato” for canned crushed tomatoes (what I had). A combination of diced or canned whole tomatoes and sauce would work great too. Once I combined all the ingredients per their instructions, I had a tasty bean mash that was a skosh flat. Lemon juice and parsley brightened it right up.

Except for the parsley—and the fava beans—this dish was made entirely of ingredients I had on hand. I think it would work with any mashable bean, and the stew is yummy with whole chick peas too, which I had for lunch today.

Fava Beans with Tomatoes was even better next day after the flavors had a chance to meld. CB and I had it along with the chick pea version, homemade hummus, steamed kale, and pita bread, for our own little at-home tapas meal. It would also be a welcome addition to the dip section of your next party spread. Just be sure to invite your new friends who gave you the recipe.

~~~~

If you fancied this recipe, you may also enjoy:

• Guacamole-Bean Dip Mash-up
• Tunisian-style Greens and Beans
• Pindi Chana

~~~

Fava Beans with Tomatoes
Serves 6
Inspired by Khaled and Altef at the 9th Ave. Deli

1 1/2 cup fava beans, mashed
16 ounces crushed tomatoes
2 teaspoons extra virgin olive oil
1 small onion, chopped
6 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon pepper
1/4 cup water
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 tablespoon parsley, chopped

1) Drain and rinse fava beans; then mash and set aside.

2) In a medium sauce pan, heat olive oil over medium heat. Saute onion and garlic until onion is soft, about 5 minutes. Add crushed tomatoes, salt, and pepper. Simmer for 5 more minutes.

3) Mix in mashed beans with 1/4 cup water (and chopped tomato, if in season). Cook for 10 to 15 minutes, stirring until thick. Take care; this stuff is splattery.

4) When the mixture is the consistency you like for bean dip, remove from heat and stir in lemon juice and chopped parsley.

5) Serve with warm pita bread as part of tapas spread with other small bites, like hummus, baba ghanouj, wilted greens, stewed chick peas and new friends.

Approximate Calories, Fat, Fiber, Protein, and Price per Serving
72 calories, 2g fat, 3g fiber, 4g protein, $0.42

Calculations
1 1/2 cup fava beans: 273 calories, 1.5g fat, 13.5g fiber, 21g protein, $0.98
16 ounces crushed tomatoes: 82 calories, 0g fat, 4g fiber, 4g protein, $0.99
2 teaspoons extra virgin olive oil: 79.2 calories, 9.24g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.05
1 small onion: 20 calories, 0.1g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.25
6 cloves garlic: 24 calories, 0g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.07
1 teaspoon salt: negligible calories, fat, fiber, protein, $.02
1 tablespoon pepper: negligible calories, fat, fiber, protein, $.02
1 tablespoon lemon juice: 3 calories, 0g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.06
1 tablespoon parsley: 1.3 calories, 0g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.07
TOTALS: 429 calories, 11g fat, 17.5g fiber, 25g protein, $2.51
PER SERVING (TOTALS/6): 72 calories, 2g fat, 3g fiber, 4g protein, $0.42

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Veggie Might: From Eleganza to Everyday - Vegetable Pie Two Ways

Penned by the effervescent Leigh, Veggie Might is a weekly Thursday column about the wide world of Vegetarianism.

When I was a teenager, I daydreamed of the bohemian artist's life I would lead some day. I pictured my lover and I dining and drinking with friends in a Greenwich Village flat, speaking passionately of film and music and politics and theater and Art with a capital A. Smoke from our clove cigarettes swirled up to the sky light; sounds of laughter and genius tumbled out onto the sparkling city street.

My grown-up life is not quite the beatnik fantasy I'd imagined, but it's not as far off as I realized. Last week, CB and I shared a delicious meal with our friends M and R and their friends J and G. We spoke passionately of zombie movies and intellectual property law and world travel and SpiderMan: Turn Off the Dark. Beer swirled in glasses; the food was as brilliant as the company.

Our party was evenly split down food lines: three omnivores and three vegetarians. M prepared a meatstravaganza for the omnivores - Mario Batali's proscuitto-wrapped skirt steak flanked by pancetta. She also set out a delicious array of salads and vegetarian side dishes that could have fed twice as many.

I was tasked with the vegetarian entree, but something about my assignment made me nervous. It's rare that I cook for strangers, or that I make an "entree." I'm more of a grain/bean/green vegetarian: one pot, three ingredients, one full belly. I wanted my dish to be special, so I knew I should make something I'd made before.

I turned to Mark Bittman's Parsnip and Wheatberry Pie with Phyllo Crust, a variation of which I'd vowed to never make again. Phyllo and I didn't get along very well that one time, but oh, it's tasty and damn impressive. I would give it another go.

Against my better judgment, I stopped at the grocery on my way to M's for ingredients: frozen phyllo dough, wheatberries, etc. Planning ahead is not my strong suit. Turns out wheatberries need an overnight soak and three hours to cook before edibility, so I made a last-minute adjustment: kasha.

In the vegetable aisle, I was seduced by the sweet potatoes and right to believe they would add a delightful sweetness to the nutty kasha and peppery parsnips.

Phyllo dough is labor intensive and decadent, by virtue of just how much butter (or oil) it takes to make it work. But oh Man Ray, it's certainly worth the splurge on occasion. Frozen phyllo dough needs to be defrosted overnight in the refrigerator (trust me). Those thin sheets of dough will tear if not fully thawed before handling.

And Mark Bittman's not kidding when he tells you you'll need 1/2 cup of melted butter to lubricate 8 to 12 layers of pastry. I thought I could cut back on the fat, but my frugality just kept me running back and forth to the microwave.

But oh, those two hours of preparation and sweating over paper-thin sheets of dough were worth it. The pie was a smashing success. J and G were thrilled with our extravagant entree, and the omnis were just as impressed. M shared that she and R savored the lonely leftover slice the next day.

Light, buttery, and flaky, the delicate crust highlighted the earthy flavors of the filling, and the provolone cheese gave a pungent kick. Just a hint of thyme balanced the scales.

The filling was so delicious, I wanted to make the pie again immediately; but phyllo pie seems a bit out of reach for a Monday night supper. A couple of frozen whole wheat pie crusts saved the day, cutting prep time nearly in half. What took me two hours to prepare in phyllo took less than one episode of RuPaul's Drag Race (45 minutes) with frozen pie crust from the market (or homemade, if you've got the energy or extra few minutes). I still had to defrost the suckers, but only enough to make a top crust out of a bottom, and that can be done while the rest of the prep is happening.

The work-a-day version came out looking a little more like a succubus than its light and flaky phyllo counterpart, but it tasted just as delicious, even sans butter and cheese. There was no savings in the calorie or fat departments, but this savory pie makes for a delicious departure from the quotidian. The sweet and nutty filling pairs beautifully with a hearty whole wheat crust and makes a terrific pot pie alternative.

Whether you wax philosophic with friends over layers of phyllo or catch up on your reality TV with pie dough, Sweet Potato, Parsnip and Kasha Pie will make you grateful for the dream you're living.

~~~~

If this recipe tips your canoe, swim on over to:

• Savory Squash Pie
• Kasha with Root Veg and Dill
• Vegetarian Shepherd's Pie

~~~

Sweet Potato, Parsnip and Kasha Pie
adapted from How to Cook Everything Vegetarian by Mark Bittman
Serves 6

Filling:
1/2 cup kasha
1 1/2 cups vegetable stock
1/2 tablespoon butter or extra virgin olive oil
2 cups grated parsnips (about 8 ounces)
2 cups grated sweet potatoes (about 8 ounces)
1 shallot, coarsely chopped
6 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon fresh thyme, chopped or 2 teaspoons dried thyme
salt and pepper to taste
1/2 cup provolone, grated (optional)

Phyllo Crust:
8 to 12 sheets phyllo dough, thawed overnight
7 tablespoons butter, melted or 1/2 cup (less 1 tablespoon) extra virgin olive oil

OR
Traditional Pie Crust:
2 whole wheat pie crusts, thawed

Instructions
Preparation:
Wash, peel, and grate sweet potatoes and parsnips. Chop garlic, shallot, and fresh thyme. For phyllo variation, lightly coat pie pan with oil, butter, or cooking spray.

1) Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

2) In a medium saucepan, bring vegetable stock to a boil. Stir in kasha, reduce heat, and simmer for about 20 minutes, until water is absorbed and grains are fluffy. Set aside.

3) Heat oil or butter in a large heavy-bottomed skillet. Add grated vegetables, shallot, garlic, salt, and pepper and cook for 10 to 15 minutes, stirring often. Add a few splashes of water if mixture sticks to bottom of pan.

4) Combine kasha, cooked vegetables, thyme, and optional cheese.

Eleganza Phyllo Dough Variation
5) Dampen clean tea towels or paper towels, enough to cover unrolled phyllo dough. Ring out so that they are just damp, not dripping wet. Unroll phyllo dough.

6) Peel up one sheet and place in greased pie plate. Cover unrolled sheets with damp toweling to keep from drying out. Baste phyllo pastry you've placed in pie plate with melted butter using a soft-bristled brush. Repeat four to five times, basting each layer and turning the sheets slightly as you go around.

7) Add filling to phyllo crust. Repeat step six with four to six sheets of phyllo dough to form the top crust. Fold up the edges and basted to seal.

8) Score top and bake for 30 to 40 minutes. Allow to cool before cutting. Serve with a green salad or sauteed greens and sparkling conversation.

Everyday Whole Wheat Crust Variation
5. Add filling to defrosted pie crust. Place second crust on top of filling, trim away excess, pinch edges together, and score top.

6. Bake for 30 to 40 minutes. Allow to cool before cutting. Serve with a green salad or sauteed greens and biting political discourse.

Approximate Calories, Fat, Fiber, Protein, and Price per Serving
Phyllo/Dairy Variation: 418 calories, 25g fat, 4.6g fiber, 11g protein, $.97
Whole Wheat Crust/Dairy-free Variation: 418 calories, 23g fat, 9.6g fiber, 8.5g protein, $.97

Calculations
1/2 cup kasha: 283.5 calories, 2g fat, 8.5g fiber, 9.5g protein, $0.46
1 1/2 cups vegetable stock: 15 calories, 1.5g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.16
1/2 tablespoon butter: 70 calories, 7.5g fat, 0g fiber, 0.5g protein, $0.08
2 cups grated parsnips: 100 calories, 0g fat, 6g fiber, 3g protein, $0.36
2 cups grated sweet potatoes: 224 calories, 0g fat, 8g fiber, 4g protein, $0.68
1 shallot: 30 calories, 0g fat, 3g fiber, 2g protein, $0.20
6 cloves garlic: 24 calories, 0g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.07
1 tablespoon fresh thyme: negligible calories, fat, fiber, protein, $.02
salt: negligible calories, fat, fiber, protein, $.02
pepper: negligible calories, fat, fiber, protein, $.02
1/2 cup provolone: 392 calories, 28g fat, 0g fiber, 28g protein, $1.48
8 sheets phyllo dough: 392 calories, 4g fat, 2g fiber, 12g protein, $1.84
7 tablespoons butter: 980 calories, 105g fat, 0g fiber, 7g protein, $1.05
OR
2 whole wheat pie crusts: 1760 calories, 128g fat, 32g fiber, 32g protein, $4.39
TOTALS (Phyllo/Cheese Variation): 2510.5 calories, 148g fat, 27.5g fiber, 66g protein, $5.82
TOTALS (Whole Wheat Crust/Dairy-free Variation): 2506.5 calories, 139g fat, 57.5g fiber, 51g protein, $5.84
PER SERVING (TOTALS/6): 418 calories, 25g fat, 4.6g fiber, 11g protein, $.97
PER SERVING (TOTALS/6): 418 calories, 23g fat, 9.6g fiber, 8.5g protein, $.97

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