I hear it frequently, but I think it bears repeating: the perfect holiday is one where you reflect on the things you're thankful for, and take time to love yourself. Family is wonderful, friends are great, lovers are important, but you come before all of them. Your own well-being should be your biggest concern.
When you find yourself getting stressed, angry, frustrated, or annoyed in general about having to get something done (whether it be the drive to a loved one's house, the wrapping of the gifts, the cooking of the meal, the waiting on the delivery), just stop. Stop, and breathe. Breathe, and find one thing that you're thankful for. Then, thank the universe for it. Breathe again. Breathe some more. Find your grounding, find your centre, find your peace, and connect to it.
Breathe.
Why are you doing all these things? Because there is someone in your life who loves you, whom you love back. What is the purpose of going through any of the effort that you're going through? To show your love. To show your respect, your kindness, your thoughtfulness. To show your gratitude.
Nobody (who truly matters) is keeping score (hopefully; if anyone is, that person isn't worth your time). Yes, the slow traffic is frustrating. But think of what's waiting at the other end: people who will be happy to see you. Yes, the meal is hard work to cook. But think of what happens when it's cooked: delicious food is ready, to be shared with people you care about. Yes, it sucks when the food goes wrong. But think of what you have when that happens: a funny story to share with your friends, and then Chinese food afterwards. Yes, the other humans at the store are crazy. But you don't have to be. Breathe.
It will be OK, no matter how it turns out, how late you are, how little you have to spend. It's OK. You are loved. You are cherished by someone, even if it's yourself.
You are you.
12/24/12
12/19/12
Rituals
So this morning, the AM cook asked me if I'd like a cup of coffee. He'd just made himself one, and was offering me one. He's a nice enough guy, but tends to be reserved, which is why I'm always encouraging when he reaches out to me. When he recognises something I'm cooking, he'll grin, and name it (he used to work at an Indian restaurant). I'll smile back in pleasant surprise, and confirm. When he enjoys something I've made, he's usually quick to tell me. But aside from those few interactions, he tends to keep (mostly) to himself.
That's fine, though, because he's always friendly, and professional at work. That's really all I can ask from someone.
Anyway. Anyone who's known me for a while knows that caffeine hits me hard. If I have any in the morning, I'll be up all night. This goes so far as to give me issues with soda, green tea, black tea, coffee, or anything else containing caffeine. I knew that the coffee would likely have me wired all day. However, here he was, reaching out to me. I didn't want to refuse. As I sit here, sipping this wonderful tasting latte he made me, I started thinking about how we all use food as a way to connect with each other. How rituals like the morning coffee ritual at work tends to bring people together, even if they're not necessarily having a long conversation over said coffee.
Think about it. What do most people remember about their favourite holidays, aside from the enjoyable times that they have with their family? The festive meal. This goes double for any religion (like Judaism or Hinduism) that has prescribed dishes for said festive meal. On Pesach, you eat those bitter herbs, that horseradish stuff, the fruit & date mixture, the matza. On Thai Pongal (a Tamil harvest festival), you eat bowls of sweet or savoury pongal (lentils and rice dish, also called kichadi in the North). These foods are woven into the fabric of those holidays, and are important parts of anyone's memories of those holidays. It's a Very Big Deal.
So what do you do when your morals and the specific holiday in question don't quite line up? Do you eat before you leave home, and skulk in a corner with your plate of dry salad? Do you bring something with you? Do you starve? Do you respectfully (and far in advance) ask for something special to be made for you?
I don't know. The answer will vary depending on your situation. Here, however, I'm going to cover a couple of dishes that anyone can sort out, anywhere they live, even if they don't have access to Weird Vegan Ingredients™. Whether you ask someone to make it for you, make it yourself, or make a quick trip to the supermarket on the way there (or once you arrive there), these are all dishes that can be sorted out fairly quickly, with a minimum of fuss.
I encourage you, however, to ask the host if they'd be willing to make you the thing, if you can. Why? Because my coworker this morning got a good feeling by doing something nice for me: making me a cup of coffee. People reach out to each other with gifts of food. Whether that dish is complicated like a tofu lasagna, or simple, like a cup of coffee with some soymilk in, it's the gesture that matters, not the specific food. Either way, I hope you get some ideas on how to figure out what to eat when you're in non-vegan territory.
Roasted Potatoes For as much as I adore green vegetables, roasted potatoes have a sweet spot in my heart. They're so delicious, and easy to sort out, no matter where you are. Depending on the neighbourhood you're in, you may or may not be able to find all different kinds of potatoes. My favourites are the fingerling potatoes, and the baby red potatoes, but it will work with whatever you have. Toss the potatoes in just enough oil to coat them, and lay them (in a single layer) onto a baking sheet. If you're using a typical baking sheet, you'll need 2 of them for a 5-lb bag. Roast at 350°F for 40 minutes, then remove from the oven. Toss lightly to re-coat in the oil, and crank up the heat to 450°F. Let them roast at the higher heat for another 20 minutes or so.
Pasta with Tomato Sauce: A quick, cheater version of tomato sauce involves getting an onion, a can of crushed tomatoes (use diced or whole if that's all you can find), some olive oil, and some fresh herbs of your choice. Cook the onions in olive oil until they're softened. Add the herbs, and stir around with the onions until you can smell them. I personally like dried oregano, and basil, but you can use whatever you have on hand. Add the can of crushed tomatoes, and cook over high heat until the sauce reaches the thickness you want. For me, it takes about five to seven minutes. You may need more or less time. Then, dump the cooked pasta into the sauce pot, and stir to combine. Let the whole thing come to a boil, and shut off the heat. Sprinkle on a bit more olive oil, some salt and black pepper, and you're set.
QUICK Beans & Rice: There are times when beans and rice just get the job done. If you or the person in question doesn't know how to cook rice, just get some from the local friendly Chinese restaurant. Listen, I know I'm supposed to encourage you to cook, but sometimes, you have to work with what you have. To make really fast beans, you'll need a can of beans, some curry powder, and an onion. Cook the onion in oil, along with 2 tsp of curry powder (for every 1 can of beans, you'll want one large onion, 2 TB of oil, and the 2 tsp of curry powder). When the onions soften, add the can of beans, water and all, and cook on high until the beans come to a boil. Add the rice, stir to combine, and keep cooking on high until it's thickened to your liking. Serve with salsa, guacamole, or any kind of raw vegetables you like (I like sliced cucumbers and carrots). The whole thing takes like ten minutes when you've got the rice cooked already.
Cheater Pilaf: Technically, pilaf should be the best quality spices, along with the best basmati rice you can find, and fresh cut vegetables. And then you realise that you're in a town where the good grocery store has three varieties of potato, five varieties of onion, and a few wilted leaves of something that looks like lettuce, but you don't actually eat it. It's for decoration, apparently. Even the dodgiest grocery store has a bag of mixed frozen vegetables. Every store I've been to has at least a box of rice in there somewhere.
Here's how you do it. Purists will be cringing, but it does taste delicious at the end of it all. Put two cups of rice to cook. In a separate pot, cook 1 large onion, 3 cloves of garlic, and 1/2 tsp of turmeric in 3 TB of whatever oil you have lying around. If you don't have turmeric, use about 2 tsp of curry powder. When the onions and garlic are softened, add 12 - 16 oz of frozen mixed vegetables of your liking. I'm fond of the "california mix" (it has cauliflower, broccoli, and peppers or something of that sort). Sautee the vegetables until they're not frozen anymore. Season with salt, red pepper flakes, and black pepper. Keep cooking until the vegetables are cooked. When the rice is cooked, toss it through the cooked vegetables, and serve.
If you can get access to couscous, millet, or quinoa, this works equally well with them.
Aside from the usual suspects of hummus and pita (or sliced carrots, if you're gluten free), salsa/guac and tortilla chips, white beans & rosemary dip with crostini, bruschetta, or any other number of easily vegan dishes, these are just some ideas to get you thinking about vegan food in terms that even the most basic cook can master. Mind you, if the person who's cooking is more creative, please go for the best you can find by all means.
That's fine, though, because he's always friendly, and professional at work. That's really all I can ask from someone.
Anyway. Anyone who's known me for a while knows that caffeine hits me hard. If I have any in the morning, I'll be up all night. This goes so far as to give me issues with soda, green tea, black tea, coffee, or anything else containing caffeine. I knew that the coffee would likely have me wired all day. However, here he was, reaching out to me. I didn't want to refuse. As I sit here, sipping this wonderful tasting latte he made me, I started thinking about how we all use food as a way to connect with each other. How rituals like the morning coffee ritual at work tends to bring people together, even if they're not necessarily having a long conversation over said coffee.
Think about it. What do most people remember about their favourite holidays, aside from the enjoyable times that they have with their family? The festive meal. This goes double for any religion (like Judaism or Hinduism) that has prescribed dishes for said festive meal. On Pesach, you eat those bitter herbs, that horseradish stuff, the fruit & date mixture, the matza. On Thai Pongal (a Tamil harvest festival), you eat bowls of sweet or savoury pongal (lentils and rice dish, also called kichadi in the North). These foods are woven into the fabric of those holidays, and are important parts of anyone's memories of those holidays. It's a Very Big Deal.
So what do you do when your morals and the specific holiday in question don't quite line up? Do you eat before you leave home, and skulk in a corner with your plate of dry salad? Do you bring something with you? Do you starve? Do you respectfully (and far in advance) ask for something special to be made for you?
I don't know. The answer will vary depending on your situation. Here, however, I'm going to cover a couple of dishes that anyone can sort out, anywhere they live, even if they don't have access to Weird Vegan Ingredients™. Whether you ask someone to make it for you, make it yourself, or make a quick trip to the supermarket on the way there (or once you arrive there), these are all dishes that can be sorted out fairly quickly, with a minimum of fuss.
I encourage you, however, to ask the host if they'd be willing to make you the thing, if you can. Why? Because my coworker this morning got a good feeling by doing something nice for me: making me a cup of coffee. People reach out to each other with gifts of food. Whether that dish is complicated like a tofu lasagna, or simple, like a cup of coffee with some soymilk in, it's the gesture that matters, not the specific food. Either way, I hope you get some ideas on how to figure out what to eat when you're in non-vegan territory.
Roasted Potatoes For as much as I adore green vegetables, roasted potatoes have a sweet spot in my heart. They're so delicious, and easy to sort out, no matter where you are. Depending on the neighbourhood you're in, you may or may not be able to find all different kinds of potatoes. My favourites are the fingerling potatoes, and the baby red potatoes, but it will work with whatever you have. Toss the potatoes in just enough oil to coat them, and lay them (in a single layer) onto a baking sheet. If you're using a typical baking sheet, you'll need 2 of them for a 5-lb bag. Roast at 350°F for 40 minutes, then remove from the oven. Toss lightly to re-coat in the oil, and crank up the heat to 450°F. Let them roast at the higher heat for another 20 minutes or so.
Pasta with Tomato Sauce: A quick, cheater version of tomato sauce involves getting an onion, a can of crushed tomatoes (use diced or whole if that's all you can find), some olive oil, and some fresh herbs of your choice. Cook the onions in olive oil until they're softened. Add the herbs, and stir around with the onions until you can smell them. I personally like dried oregano, and basil, but you can use whatever you have on hand. Add the can of crushed tomatoes, and cook over high heat until the sauce reaches the thickness you want. For me, it takes about five to seven minutes. You may need more or less time. Then, dump the cooked pasta into the sauce pot, and stir to combine. Let the whole thing come to a boil, and shut off the heat. Sprinkle on a bit more olive oil, some salt and black pepper, and you're set.
QUICK Beans & Rice: There are times when beans and rice just get the job done. If you or the person in question doesn't know how to cook rice, just get some from the local friendly Chinese restaurant. Listen, I know I'm supposed to encourage you to cook, but sometimes, you have to work with what you have. To make really fast beans, you'll need a can of beans, some curry powder, and an onion. Cook the onion in oil, along with 2 tsp of curry powder (for every 1 can of beans, you'll want one large onion, 2 TB of oil, and the 2 tsp of curry powder). When the onions soften, add the can of beans, water and all, and cook on high until the beans come to a boil. Add the rice, stir to combine, and keep cooking on high until it's thickened to your liking. Serve with salsa, guacamole, or any kind of raw vegetables you like (I like sliced cucumbers and carrots). The whole thing takes like ten minutes when you've got the rice cooked already.
Cheater Pilaf: Technically, pilaf should be the best quality spices, along with the best basmati rice you can find, and fresh cut vegetables. And then you realise that you're in a town where the good grocery store has three varieties of potato, five varieties of onion, and a few wilted leaves of something that looks like lettuce, but you don't actually eat it. It's for decoration, apparently. Even the dodgiest grocery store has a bag of mixed frozen vegetables. Every store I've been to has at least a box of rice in there somewhere.
Here's how you do it. Purists will be cringing, but it does taste delicious at the end of it all. Put two cups of rice to cook. In a separate pot, cook 1 large onion, 3 cloves of garlic, and 1/2 tsp of turmeric in 3 TB of whatever oil you have lying around. If you don't have turmeric, use about 2 tsp of curry powder. When the onions and garlic are softened, add 12 - 16 oz of frozen mixed vegetables of your liking. I'm fond of the "california mix" (it has cauliflower, broccoli, and peppers or something of that sort). Sautee the vegetables until they're not frozen anymore. Season with salt, red pepper flakes, and black pepper. Keep cooking until the vegetables are cooked. When the rice is cooked, toss it through the cooked vegetables, and serve.
If you can get access to couscous, millet, or quinoa, this works equally well with them.
Aside from the usual suspects of hummus and pita (or sliced carrots, if you're gluten free), salsa/guac and tortilla chips, white beans & rosemary dip with crostini, bruschetta, or any other number of easily vegan dishes, these are just some ideas to get you thinking about vegan food in terms that even the most basic cook can master. Mind you, if the person who's cooking is more creative, please go for the best you can find by all means.
11/16/12
Top 5 Tips for Vegan Thanksgiving Bliss
Even if you won't be joining us here at
Chow for your Thanksgiving meal, we still want you to have a delicious holiday.
Regardless of how big your crowd is, we have noticed a couple of things that
help things go smoothly. Hopefully, they will be of help to you too.
1) Do not try something new for the first
time when you have company coming. With dishes that you cook infrequently, you
have less confidence in the final product. You haven't seen how the food will
react to your situation, to your skills, and to your kitchen. Something that
worked great in my kitchen may not work so great in yours if you've never made
it before. This is why whenever I am about to try a new recipe for a big day,
I'll make a small test batch first to see how the mechanics of the recipe work.
This way, if things go belly-up, I'll not have wasted too many ingredients.
Furthermore, with my smaller batch, I can make tweaks without using up huge
amounts of ingredients.
What am I talking about? Imagine that you
have about a cup or so of a gravy. You made it because the recipe looked good.
Now imagine that you did like I said, and decided to make only about half that
amount, because you're not sure how the recipe will work. You half all the
ingredients, and measure them out ahead of time. You survey all your
ingredients in front of you, and they look to be reasonable for what you're
making. (Yesterday, Bossman came up to me and said, "I'm making a single
cheesecake. 2 TB of salt doesn't seem right, does it?" I agreed with his
assessment. It turns out that the TB was a typo. In other words, look at each
ingredient in the context of the whole recipe and ask yourself if such an
amount makes sense for what you're making.)
You go to make the recipe exactly as
stated. Midway through, you realise that the recipe never mentioned that you're
to turn down the heat. You didn't think to do so, because you're following the
damned recipe. All of a sudden, your gravy gets burned, and you're furious.
Since it is a tiny amount, you're not that bothered. You can try again, and
this time, turn down the heat a bit. Suppose that you did make the gravy, and
it turned out great. You taste it. SALT BOMB. You're gasping for water, and the
thing tastes just awful. Now imagine what would happen if this is a random
mid-week meal. You quietly bin the gravy, and decide to have that dinner with
ketchup instead. Again. (Yes, this is personal experience talking.) Imagine the
same scenario if you've got guests coming in less than 20 minutes. They won't
be as forgiving as your husband, or your dog.
Suppose you make everything as stated, but
the end result seems really bland. This frequently happens with pressure cooker
or slow cooker recipes. The extreme cooking seems to dull out the flavours.
Again, suppose you only have a small batch to fix. A few drops of lemon will
brighten any dull tasting dish. A fresh bunch of herbs will do the same.
Sometimes it'll take a combination of the two. Either way, if you're dealing
with large quantities, you may not have all the ingredients you need to fix the
mistake. In small quantities, the small amounts of ingredients you add to tweak
something will make a huge difference. All this leads to the second tenet.
2) When you change a recipe, make a note of
it. In fact, make frequent notes. Why? Because if it took a few things to tweak
a recipe that was otherwise great, you'll want to remember what it is you did
to make it work. If you make something truly great, you'll want to recreate it.
A piece of paper and a sharpie will work wonders for you.
3) Do as much preparation work ahead of
time as is feasible. Or cheat. We're all busy. We have a thousand things to get
done in an average day. And I'm sorry, but that cute kitty video isn't going to
watch itself. For whatever reason, there will be times when you have time
consuming prep work (peeling onions or garlic, chopping root veggies, chopping
potatoes, etc) that you'll put off until the last minute. Then the day of
comes, and you're about to wind up serving everyone a pizza. Don't do this.
If you go to many Supermarkets now, you'll
see pre-diced vegetables of every shape and size. I want you to go to that
store, look at what they're charging for those things, and then resolve to do
it yourself. If you're a wealthy type, who's getting paid enough at work that
your time is worth more than the cost difference of buying pre-prepped versus
whole vegetables, go ahead and buy the jars. Either way, figure out what you've
got more of, be it time or money, and reach a compromise.
If the time is what you have plenty of, go
ahead and set aside about four days before the major event to do the boring
prep. Peel and chop your onions. Peel your garlic. Dice the carrots and celery.
All these can be done up to four days in advance with no problems. Three days
ahead, go ahead and slice or chop the garlic. Dice your potatoes or other root
veggies, and leave them to sit in cold water. Soak your beans and brown rice
(brown rice cooks much more quickly when soaked ahead of time). Two days ahead
of time, drain the soaked beans, and boil them. Cook your root veggies and/or
potatoes. They take a long time to cook, so it's great if you can have them
pre-cooked. Wash and chop your dark leafy greens. Wash and chop your
cauliflower/broccoli. Drain the brown
rice, and let it sit in the fridge. On the day of, bring all the magic
together.
All these little tasks, when taken
separately, take no more than 30 - 45 minutes or so to do at the very most. Then,
on the day of, when all your ingredients are prepared, you can generally knock
out any major cooking in about 1 - 2 hours or so. This also makes it easy for
you to do your dishes as you're working.
If you have more money than time, go ahead
and buy the pre-chopped aromatics (carrots, celery, onions), the pre-peeled
garlic, the frozen chopped kale, the broccoli crowns (some stores even sell
florets all chopped neatly), or whatever other ingredient you don't feel like
prepping. Heck, Trader Joe even sells these cooked lentils in a vacuum pack.
They don't come with all that gooey liquid, so you can totally use them in
salads or purees. They cost more than dried beans, but they're still not
prohibitively expensive.
Or, if you're like most people, find a
happy medium. Do as much prep work as you're comfortable with, and then buy the
rest prepped already.
4) If you have the option, delegate as much
as you can. If you're standing there over a blazing hot stove, and a screaming
hot oven, you're likely going to need some help with the cleanup. Recruit
anyone who's willing to help to start clearing up the prep dishes as you use
them up. Recruit people who are willing, to chop herbs or keep an eye on the
pot. Recruit someone to keep your wineglass replenished. Recruit someone to
taste (and if you're making anything with kale, or anything fried, you'll have
plenty of volunteers). Treat your kitchen helpers to extra little treats.
Anyone who helps me in the kitchen always gets first dibs on the fried food.
Only after we've eaten our fill do we call anyone else in to try some.
5) Taste. Frequently. Why? Because the food
will change as it cooks. And unlike meat foods, which try to kill you back,
there isn't likely to be that much harm in tasting a piece of vegetable halfway
through its cooking process. Taste that soup liquid as it begins to cook, and
then throughout the cooking process. Not only will it alert you to problems as
they occur (such as the soup sticking to the bottom of the pot when you're
using ingredients like split peas), it will also get you used to knowing what
something should taste like at various points during the cooking. This
knowledge will help you to gauge how anything in the pot should taste.
Don't just rely on your own taste either.
Ask for feedback from others who are around while the food cooks. If you get
multiple opinions, you can tweak the food as
necessary. Or, in some cases, you can beam with pride when everyone
raves about how delicious something is, on a one-on-one basis. When someone
piles his or her plate with food, and eats it with great gusto, you don't know
what they love about each and every dish. When they have a little taste of each
thing as it's prepared, you know that they love each thing. OK, so I do enjoy a
little ego boost once in a while.
Most of all, relax. People aren't
necessarily here for your food (although it is a nice bonus). They're here to
see you. The food is secondary. I have had wonderful times with friends when
the food was nothing more than a bowl of nuts, some piping hot mugs of hot
chocolate, and some fine conversation. That fills me up just as much as a fancy
meal in a nice restaurant. If someone takes all that effort to come out and see
you, they'll be happy that you made the effort to bring something nice to the
table, even if it really is delivery or take out from a restaurant. The meal is
the excuse to share the warm feelings and good times.
We love you all, and wish you a happy and
healthy Thanksgiving!
9/13/12
Supply Issues
Whenever possible, we try to support companies that are off the beaten path. Be it our wines, our beers, our sodas, (and as of late) or our soy ice cream. Yes, it would be easy to get the mainstream brands, but those mainstream brands already have plenty of exposure elsewhere, and we'd like to provide our customers with something that they won't be able to get anywhere.
Unfortunately, that means that supplies are sometimes (if not frequently, in one case that will remain unnamed) An Issue. It's not that our wholesaler is out of the product, but rather that the company producing it ran out of stock, and isn't able to resupply said wholesaler any time soon. So we're in a holding pattern until more stock appears. This is perfectly understandable (in my head, anyway) with produce, because produce has a very fleeting shelf life.
I just wish I would grant the same understanding to the makers of those speciality vegan products. Again, I'm not about to name names, because I do want to support vegan brands, and hope that they all do well. We take pride in buying products from vegan companies whenever possible. It's just frustrating when you want to give those independent companies a shot, and they have Major Supply Issues. Because then our customers are irritated that they can't have ________.
I guess in a way this is why we're so careful to make as much of our products as we can in-house. The major things on the menu depend on raw ingredients that we put together ourselves. If we run out, it is due to the products popularity, and our own ability to keep up with demand. For example, one week, we'll run a soup special, but the weather is hot, so it lasts a few days. All of a sudden, a cold snap hits, and we can't sell the soup fast enough!
I'm guessing that's the same thing that happens with those other vegan companies that produce specific products. Demand spikes are weird and unpredictable. For no reason, we'll get masses of orders for a random thing. And then it will quiet down. It must be even more tough to run a bigger operation, where you have your cost of operation dependent on commodities costs, weather patterns, and other big factors that are way out of your control. For us, a bag of flour costs as much as it always does, and stays more or less consistent. A case of broccoli will fluctuate very slightly, but we don't use so much broccoli that our entire livelihood depends on it. Tempeh, seitan, tofu, beans, nuts, seeds, etc all tend to stay pretty stable on our side.
How terrifying it must be to be (for example) a company that makes beverages from juices (like Maine Root, whom we love) or other raw ingredients, who buy them by the truckload, to have said truckload drastically spike in price, because a nasty rainstorm hit, or there was flooding, or a drought.
What started off as a first world problems type whine has turned into my really having a huge deal of respect for producers of the things we all take for granted. Here's to all the producers of things. Cheers! You're amazing people, and I respect your work.
Unfortunately, that means that supplies are sometimes (if not frequently, in one case that will remain unnamed) An Issue. It's not that our wholesaler is out of the product, but rather that the company producing it ran out of stock, and isn't able to resupply said wholesaler any time soon. So we're in a holding pattern until more stock appears. This is perfectly understandable (in my head, anyway) with produce, because produce has a very fleeting shelf life.
I just wish I would grant the same understanding to the makers of those speciality vegan products. Again, I'm not about to name names, because I do want to support vegan brands, and hope that they all do well. We take pride in buying products from vegan companies whenever possible. It's just frustrating when you want to give those independent companies a shot, and they have Major Supply Issues. Because then our customers are irritated that they can't have ________.
I guess in a way this is why we're so careful to make as much of our products as we can in-house. The major things on the menu depend on raw ingredients that we put together ourselves. If we run out, it is due to the products popularity, and our own ability to keep up with demand. For example, one week, we'll run a soup special, but the weather is hot, so it lasts a few days. All of a sudden, a cold snap hits, and we can't sell the soup fast enough!
I'm guessing that's the same thing that happens with those other vegan companies that produce specific products. Demand spikes are weird and unpredictable. For no reason, we'll get masses of orders for a random thing. And then it will quiet down. It must be even more tough to run a bigger operation, where you have your cost of operation dependent on commodities costs, weather patterns, and other big factors that are way out of your control. For us, a bag of flour costs as much as it always does, and stays more or less consistent. A case of broccoli will fluctuate very slightly, but we don't use so much broccoli that our entire livelihood depends on it. Tempeh, seitan, tofu, beans, nuts, seeds, etc all tend to stay pretty stable on our side.
How terrifying it must be to be (for example) a company that makes beverages from juices (like Maine Root, whom we love) or other raw ingredients, who buy them by the truckload, to have said truckload drastically spike in price, because a nasty rainstorm hit, or there was flooding, or a drought.
What started off as a first world problems type whine has turned into my really having a huge deal of respect for producers of the things we all take for granted. Here's to all the producers of things. Cheers! You're amazing people, and I respect your work.
7/27/12
Learning from others
I had a teacher in 10th grade, who taught English. She was one of my favourite teachers of all times. She not only loved reading, but also writing, and obscure words. She loved going to England every year, and would show us pictures of her travels. She frequently asked us to read, and to encourage it, she would offer extra credit to anyone who chose a book from her personal bookshelf (kept behind her desk), and come back and discuss it with her. The beauty of the deal is that she didn't make more work for herself by having you write a report on it. Instead, it was more like an informal discussion that you'd have with your friend about a book that she enjoyed, and that you enjoyed.
I remember being in her class, and having the infinite pleasure of meeting another book addict. I took her up on her offer. When my 2 books per semester ran out I asked if she didn't mind if I just kept reading, just for the hell of it. She had an extensive collection of Sidney Sheldon, Jeffery Archer, Ken Follet, and a bunch of other contemporary writers. They weren't High Literature, because she knew she was dealing with high school kids. Instead, they were just fun reads.
During this time, when I was enrolled in honours and AP classes, after school activities (AKA, drama club, track, and weekly prayer meetings with my parents), I still managed to read through one novel every day. The best part was her delight in giving me a book, having me read it, and discussing it with her the very next day. It's like instant gratification, because often when I reccommend a book to a friend, it takes them however long to read it, and we don't discuss it until weeks or months later. So to have another book addict to chat with was amazing.
She kept giving me thicker and more complex books. Jeffery Archer's As the Crow Flies, and Ken Follet's Pillars of the Earth were two such examples. I knocked out As the Crow Flies in a day and a half, and Pillars of the Earth in three.
There was this lady, intelligent, talented, and lots of fun to hang out with, teaching a class of honours English to students who frequently didn't appreciate reading. year after year. I remember asking her one day how she could keep up. "Aside from finding other book addicts like you, I find that every year, I learn more from my students."
I was floored. Here was this woman, who was so intelligent and varied in her interests (and books), who said that she was learning from her high school students! Ever since then, I have made it my personal mission to see to it that I strive to learn from everyone I meet, even when it's me who's the teacher in that situation. One of my cooking students, Ari, mentioned that she hates to wrestle with a butternut squash, because she's not got the arm strength for it. So, she just throws the whole thing into the oven like that, and roasts it until it's tender. This is something she taught me after I'd spent day after day in the restaurant kitchen, wrestling enormous piles of butternut squash, and cursing every minute of it (they really are stubborn). Here's someone who was asking me to teach her to cook, teaching me a new technique to use in my own life!
Never discount the lessons that you learn from others. Even those who are younger, or less experienced, or less talented. All of them have something to teach you.
Thank you, Mrs. Deshong. You are a wonderful teacher, and I hope that wherever you are today, you're enjoying a good book.
I remember being in her class, and having the infinite pleasure of meeting another book addict. I took her up on her offer. When my 2 books per semester ran out I asked if she didn't mind if I just kept reading, just for the hell of it. She had an extensive collection of Sidney Sheldon, Jeffery Archer, Ken Follet, and a bunch of other contemporary writers. They weren't High Literature, because she knew she was dealing with high school kids. Instead, they were just fun reads.
During this time, when I was enrolled in honours and AP classes, after school activities (AKA, drama club, track, and weekly prayer meetings with my parents), I still managed to read through one novel every day. The best part was her delight in giving me a book, having me read it, and discussing it with her the very next day. It's like instant gratification, because often when I reccommend a book to a friend, it takes them however long to read it, and we don't discuss it until weeks or months later. So to have another book addict to chat with was amazing.
She kept giving me thicker and more complex books. Jeffery Archer's As the Crow Flies, and Ken Follet's Pillars of the Earth were two such examples. I knocked out As the Crow Flies in a day and a half, and Pillars of the Earth in three.
There was this lady, intelligent, talented, and lots of fun to hang out with, teaching a class of honours English to students who frequently didn't appreciate reading. year after year. I remember asking her one day how she could keep up. "Aside from finding other book addicts like you, I find that every year, I learn more from my students."
I was floored. Here was this woman, who was so intelligent and varied in her interests (and books), who said that she was learning from her high school students! Ever since then, I have made it my personal mission to see to it that I strive to learn from everyone I meet, even when it's me who's the teacher in that situation. One of my cooking students, Ari, mentioned that she hates to wrestle with a butternut squash, because she's not got the arm strength for it. So, she just throws the whole thing into the oven like that, and roasts it until it's tender. This is something she taught me after I'd spent day after day in the restaurant kitchen, wrestling enormous piles of butternut squash, and cursing every minute of it (they really are stubborn). Here's someone who was asking me to teach her to cook, teaching me a new technique to use in my own life!
Never discount the lessons that you learn from others. Even those who are younger, or less experienced, or less talented. All of them have something to teach you.
Thank you, Mrs. Deshong. You are a wonderful teacher, and I hope that wherever you are today, you're enjoying a good book.
7/24/12
Hunger is scary
Speaking of feeling things ...
I have an innate terror about feeling hungry. Call it
childhood trauma (NOT from my mother, for the record; she made sure that the
house was perpetually stocked with good things to eat) or what have you, but
that feeling of knowing that there is nothing for me to eat gives me severe
anxiety. I make sure to eat well before leaving my home.
Anyone who's watched
me eat knows that I generally eat very frequently. I could have just eaten a
very short time ago, but we pass another bit of food I want later, and I've got
to stop and refuel. It's like that initial anxiety you get when you first have
your new mobile phone. You're not comfortable with its battery life yet, so you
charge it too frequently for that first month. You hate knowing that you'll be
without charge at a critical moment. In reality, it's probably not that huge a
deal. If the thing is running low, you can really just turn it off and turn it
back on when you need it. But until you learn that, you're still in dread of the
battery running out.
I guess that because I'm a vegan, my lack of food anxiety
tends to be pronounced. I have been places where the only option is a cup of
black coffee with some sugar. And no, there isn't bread that I can trust. You
see, it's been such a while since I've had dairy, that even a small amount in
my food (even when I don't know it's there) sends my digestive system into a
violent protest. Eggs can sneak by without my notice. Honey doesn't actually do
anything. But dairy, when I accidentally ingest it, has me wrapped around the
porcelain overlord, sweating profusely, and blasting from every orifice. Not a
pleasant feeling.
So it's especially a nerve-wracking experience to leave my
little vegan bubble. You see, I work at a vegan restaurant, am married to a
committed vegan, and keep a vegan house. The friends that I socialise with on a
regular basis are at the very least vegetarian. Those who aren't generally tend
to be respectful omnivores, and are happy to wait until leaving my presence before
settling down to animal flesh and the rest. Pretty much every restaurant in my
city (including the steak houses, I found out on one particularly annoying
night) can and is often happy to serve me something not only filling, but
delicious. If I call ahead, I even sometimes get a fairly excited chef, who'd
like to try out something experimental to see if I like it. At the local
Chinese food delivery place, they have a selection of veggie meats to go with
all their dishes. And they know what I mean when I ask for vegan.
When I leave my bubble, however, it's not so easy. These are
often places with no mass transit, and I don't drive, and everything is spaced
out really far apart. On those occasions, I'll end up at a convenience store or
pharmacy, and grab some cashews, or crackers. But frankly, after a few hours,
crackers and cashews don't really feel satisfying, dense in calories though
they be.
All of this has done nothing at all to relieve my anxiety
around hunger. I hate feeling hungry. It's one of those things that I've had to
experience so rarely that to actively get myself into a situation where such is
the case infuriates me.
But if I stop to think about it, I realise that I'm really
being silly. Being hungry is not the worst thing in the world, especially
considering that I live in a country where food is readily available to me when
I want it. So what if I do have to skip a meal once in a while? More will be
waiting later. And maybe letting myself get hungry once in a great while will
make the meal at the other end of the experience taste all the more delicious.
It's something I'm working on, and I know I can get through
it if I try.
I'm still going to carry a bottle of water though.
7/23/12
Feelings.
Nobody likes to feel vulnerable, weak, ineffective, or otherwise compromised. Feeling like you're not in full control is terrible. However, it's still feeling, and sometimes it's important to allow yourself to live in your life, and to experience your emotions. Why? Because they're a sign of life.
When I was younger (man, do I sound old when I say that!), I was somewhere between horrified of and terrified by my darker emotions. Sadness, vulnerability, pain, all of them. To try to escape them (before I turned of age), I'd lose myself in books, or ignore them completely. Then, when I got to the age of consent, I'd numb the rough edges with cigarettes, coffee, or alcohol. I would escape into dance clubs, and assignations with men who I wouldn't have chosen to be with had I been in full possession of my good sense. Anything I could do to get rid of those bad feelings would be preferable to feeling them.
And then the health effects began to show up. After a night of dancing and drinking and smoking, I'd frequently end up at horrible chain restaurants (who shall remain nameless), and order things drenched in cheese, or pancakes loaded with maple syrup (which might as well have been called corn syrup), and any number of other disgusting, unhealthy things. I'd wake up feeling like hamsters had done the conga on my tongue the night before.
I'd feel tired all the time, so to combat it, I started drinking a lot of coffee. I became something of a coffee snob, and would only buy whole beans, grind them myself, and brew it up fresh every time I needed some. I started smoking around two packs of cigarettes a day. Then, to counteract the horrible insomnia that would hit, I started taking sleeping pills every night. This meant that I'd wake up feeling even more exhausted, and my body would be screaming for me to just stop the torture.
All so that I wouldn't have to face my emotions head-on.
Finally, when my destructive behaviour had reached a peak, I think my mother sensed something, and cornered me one night. She asked if she could help me get a wife sorted out. She mentioned that she could find me one in any shape, size, or colour I wanted. One who knew how to cook, appreciate good food, loved to travel, loved to read, etc etc. All the things I loved too. She kept coming at me, over and over again, bringing up various different girls she and I knew.
I ended up bursting out with, "Maybe I don't want to marry any girl."
"What does that mean," she asked.
"Maybe I want to marry a man."
It was like something snapped inside me, and my mother and I got me to a place where I could see why I was so angry all the time. Why I was trying to hide from myself by dulling my brain with the endless cycle of alcohol, sleeping pills, cigarettes, coffee, and every other disgusting thing you could find going straight into my body.
I'd like to say that the story ends there. That after I came out to my mother, I was able to live a life of magic and rainbows. Unfortunately, addiction is a difficult thing to conquer. I managed to sort out the coffee fairly quickly. That was easy enough. Once I stopped coffee, I was able to kick the sleeping pills, because I wasn't wired all the time. I didn't quit smoking, but I certainly cut back to a "reasonable" (I put that in air quotes because there is no reasonable amount of cigarettes) amount, where I'd make a pack last me about three days or so. I'd drink on Friday nights, and rarely Saturday nights, and even then, in amounts that my body could handle.
During my journey, however, I started to realise that I was working so hard to hide from and escape my emotions, that I ended up doing more harm to myself than by allowing myself to feel those emotions. I could easily have wound up sick, or in circumstances that I couldn't get myself out of. Part of the impetus for getting myself sorted was in living my life in a way that was honest to myself and others. But more than that was facing myself in the mirror, and letting myself know that I'm a human being, with flaws, emotions, and reason. Everything that I have experienced in the past has helped to shape me into who I am now and has become a part of me, and that's a good thing. Yes, there are bad times, but those helped me learn. If I didn't have those negative experiences, I'd never change, or grow. I'd never learn.
What I'm getting at is that I think that life is a beautiful, amazing thing, and all our experiences are important. Allowing ourselves to really live in them helps shape us into what we are. When you feel yourself getting frustrated at feeling vulnerable, or lonely, or anything else that you're not a huge fan of, remember that it's important to let yourself feel it.
When I was younger (man, do I sound old when I say that!), I was somewhere between horrified of and terrified by my darker emotions. Sadness, vulnerability, pain, all of them. To try to escape them (before I turned of age), I'd lose myself in books, or ignore them completely. Then, when I got to the age of consent, I'd numb the rough edges with cigarettes, coffee, or alcohol. I would escape into dance clubs, and assignations with men who I wouldn't have chosen to be with had I been in full possession of my good sense. Anything I could do to get rid of those bad feelings would be preferable to feeling them.
And then the health effects began to show up. After a night of dancing and drinking and smoking, I'd frequently end up at horrible chain restaurants (who shall remain nameless), and order things drenched in cheese, or pancakes loaded with maple syrup (which might as well have been called corn syrup), and any number of other disgusting, unhealthy things. I'd wake up feeling like hamsters had done the conga on my tongue the night before.
I'd feel tired all the time, so to combat it, I started drinking a lot of coffee. I became something of a coffee snob, and would only buy whole beans, grind them myself, and brew it up fresh every time I needed some. I started smoking around two packs of cigarettes a day. Then, to counteract the horrible insomnia that would hit, I started taking sleeping pills every night. This meant that I'd wake up feeling even more exhausted, and my body would be screaming for me to just stop the torture.
All so that I wouldn't have to face my emotions head-on.
Finally, when my destructive behaviour had reached a peak, I think my mother sensed something, and cornered me one night. She asked if she could help me get a wife sorted out. She mentioned that she could find me one in any shape, size, or colour I wanted. One who knew how to cook, appreciate good food, loved to travel, loved to read, etc etc. All the things I loved too. She kept coming at me, over and over again, bringing up various different girls she and I knew.
I ended up bursting out with, "Maybe I don't want to marry any girl."
"What does that mean," she asked.
"Maybe I want to marry a man."
It was like something snapped inside me, and my mother and I got me to a place where I could see why I was so angry all the time. Why I was trying to hide from myself by dulling my brain with the endless cycle of alcohol, sleeping pills, cigarettes, coffee, and every other disgusting thing you could find going straight into my body.
I'd like to say that the story ends there. That after I came out to my mother, I was able to live a life of magic and rainbows. Unfortunately, addiction is a difficult thing to conquer. I managed to sort out the coffee fairly quickly. That was easy enough. Once I stopped coffee, I was able to kick the sleeping pills, because I wasn't wired all the time. I didn't quit smoking, but I certainly cut back to a "reasonable" (I put that in air quotes because there is no reasonable amount of cigarettes) amount, where I'd make a pack last me about three days or so. I'd drink on Friday nights, and rarely Saturday nights, and even then, in amounts that my body could handle.
During my journey, however, I started to realise that I was working so hard to hide from and escape my emotions, that I ended up doing more harm to myself than by allowing myself to feel those emotions. I could easily have wound up sick, or in circumstances that I couldn't get myself out of. Part of the impetus for getting myself sorted was in living my life in a way that was honest to myself and others. But more than that was facing myself in the mirror, and letting myself know that I'm a human being, with flaws, emotions, and reason. Everything that I have experienced in the past has helped to shape me into who I am now and has become a part of me, and that's a good thing. Yes, there are bad times, but those helped me learn. If I didn't have those negative experiences, I'd never change, or grow. I'd never learn.
What I'm getting at is that I think that life is a beautiful, amazing thing, and all our experiences are important. Allowing ourselves to really live in them helps shape us into what we are. When you feel yourself getting frustrated at feeling vulnerable, or lonely, or anything else that you're not a huge fan of, remember that it's important to let yourself feel it.
7/13/12
Why care about allergies?
When I started working at the restaurant, I began noticing that in nearly every item on the menu, there were little symbols, like "gf", or "ns", or "sf". Bossman and I talked about it, and I mentioned how amazing I thought that the convention of marking clearly on the menu what is and isn't safe for the big allergens was. It's the same reason that we get the restaurant Kosher. Same reason that we try to aim for making specials that are safe for as many people as possible: it's just good hospitality.
My mother has been cooking for years. She's been cooking for so long that she does little things without even realising that she does it. For example, when it's a new person coming to her house, she quickly assesses who they are, where they're from, what kinds of things they may enjoy, and their level of spice tolerance. She'll still make one or two things suited to the rest of the family. However, for the guest, she'll make sure that the food is accessible to as many people as possible. She won't use the weird, bitter, or strangely textured vegetables. She'll avoid anything too spicy, or too difficult to wrangle. She'll stick with things that have excellent flavour, but don't have loads of hot peppers or black pepper.
Then, once the person has come over a few times, she'll adjust as necessary. However, for large groups of people, such as when she makes food for the temple potlucks, or for large gatherings of friends, she'll still stick to those basic rules: no major allergens (dairy, gluten, soy), no challenging flavours (very bitter, or very hot and spicy), and lots of flavour.
So when I came to Chow, it was like coming home. When I have guests coming over, I do the same thing. I'll ensure that I make something that everyone can enjoy. If a friend of mine is gluten intolerant, I don't make just one thing for that person. I'll try to make the whole meal gluten free. Why? Because to see that look of happiness when they can eat (almost) everything on the very well-filled table is gratifying. You feel good, knowing that you've made that person feel special. Meanwhile, the people who aren't gluten intolerant can still enjoy gluten free food! Everyone wins!
When you do have a friend with a* diet issue, please just challenge yourself to do everything in your power to cater to that person, and have the whole meal follow that plan. At the end of the day, what does it hurt to just try it out for a bit, and see where it leads you?
*Notice the "a" diet issue. I'm not asking you to turn into a hospital, where folks who are deathly allergic to soy, gluten, nuts, grains, raw vegetables, coconut, spices, oil, and herbs ALL AT THE SAME TIME feel like they need to have you jumping through hoops. There comes a point where someone just starts making stuff up, or where you're just not able to accommodate them. If your body hates you that much, I can't really help you. I'm willing to learn, of course. So if you are one of these folks, let me know what you eat, and I'll see what I can do.
My mother has been cooking for years. She's been cooking for so long that she does little things without even realising that she does it. For example, when it's a new person coming to her house, she quickly assesses who they are, where they're from, what kinds of things they may enjoy, and their level of spice tolerance. She'll still make one or two things suited to the rest of the family. However, for the guest, she'll make sure that the food is accessible to as many people as possible. She won't use the weird, bitter, or strangely textured vegetables. She'll avoid anything too spicy, or too difficult to wrangle. She'll stick with things that have excellent flavour, but don't have loads of hot peppers or black pepper.
Then, once the person has come over a few times, she'll adjust as necessary. However, for large groups of people, such as when she makes food for the temple potlucks, or for large gatherings of friends, she'll still stick to those basic rules: no major allergens (dairy, gluten, soy), no challenging flavours (very bitter, or very hot and spicy), and lots of flavour.
So when I came to Chow, it was like coming home. When I have guests coming over, I do the same thing. I'll ensure that I make something that everyone can enjoy. If a friend of mine is gluten intolerant, I don't make just one thing for that person. I'll try to make the whole meal gluten free. Why? Because to see that look of happiness when they can eat (almost) everything on the very well-filled table is gratifying. You feel good, knowing that you've made that person feel special. Meanwhile, the people who aren't gluten intolerant can still enjoy gluten free food! Everyone wins!
When you do have a friend with a* diet issue, please just challenge yourself to do everything in your power to cater to that person, and have the whole meal follow that plan. At the end of the day, what does it hurt to just try it out for a bit, and see where it leads you?
*Notice the "a" diet issue. I'm not asking you to turn into a hospital, where folks who are deathly allergic to soy, gluten, nuts, grains, raw vegetables, coconut, spices, oil, and herbs ALL AT THE SAME TIME feel like they need to have you jumping through hoops. There comes a point where someone just starts making stuff up, or where you're just not able to accommodate them. If your body hates you that much, I can't really help you. I'm willing to learn, of course. So if you are one of these folks, let me know what you eat, and I'll see what I can do.
6/13/12
Switching it up: Beans & Rice Edition
I saw a complaint from someone who was trying to eat cheaply, while eating healthy, so s/he was going heavy on the beans and rice thing, and starting to get bored. It's a fair enough critique of eating very cheaply: things can sometimes get repetitive or tedious, and you don't know quite how to break out of your rut. There are a couple of things you can get started doing, so that you can add interest to your beans and rice meals, while still keeping on a tight budget. This person said that they'd been able to get enough money to add a couple of spices to their beans and rice, and were able to splurge on adding animal products (which, frankly, are way more expensive than vegetables that will give more bulk and interest to the meal), so I'm allowing myself the addition of a few vegetables into this mix, to keep things interesting.
First, you really need to familiarise yourself with a basic daal tarka. I don't mean the complex ones involving multiple layers of spices, and all kind of vegetables. I'm talking your basic, starter edition.
2 cups of dried beans, soaked and cooked (buying dried beans will drop down the cost considerably from the cost of tinned; if you don't have the time for soaking and boiling, use red lentils, split peas, or brown lentils, which will cook up just as quickly.)
1 TB canola or other vegetable oil (don't substitute olive oil; its smoke point is way too small to allow the popping of spices)
1/2 tsp cumin seed (do not substitute powdered)
1/2 tsp coriander seed, lightly crushed (do not substitute powdered)
1 medium onion, chopped
1/4 tsp turmeric powder (if you can't find turmeric powder, use 1 tsp of curry powder)
Salt and black pepper to taste
1 1/2 cups water (either the cooking liquid from the beans, or fresh water if you threw them out already)
In a pot, add the oil, and heat it over highest heat. When the oil is hot enough that a bit of smoke escapes the surface, you're ready to add the spices. Add the coriander seed, wait about 30 seconds, and add the cumin seeds. These seeds will pop like mad. This is OK. When the popping has subsided, add the onion, and stir well to combine in the fat and spices. Add the turmeric powder after the onion cooks for about two minutes (still on highest heat). Once the onions are softened (not browned), add the cooked beans, the water, salt, and pepper. Stir to combine. Taste for seasoning, and adjust as necessary.
Why did I start in on this? I wanted to start somewhere, so that we're all on the same page when I discuss the variations. Because, you see, the variations are endless.
If you're not able to afford a lot of different things, buy one or two of each veg at the store, which won't amount to much money, and do some of the following.
- When you add the onions, augment it with one carrot, one chopped jalapeno (or other chile) of your choice. I remember when I was really broke one time, and wanted some chile peppers in my daal, and I went to the store. I bought 3. They cost about $1.50/lb, because they were out of season. The 3 chiles came to a few cents. I just needed one or two for each day, and I couldn't afford a full pound at the time. The cashier gave me an odd look, but let me get what I wanted.
- Instead of the chile pepper, substitute a red, green, or yellow pepper, and a pinch of cayenne pepper. It'll give the lovely spiciness of a chile peppers while adding a fair bit more bulk and colour.
- If you see it on sale, add a couple of ears of corn to the pot after you add the beans.
- If you have it, add 2 chopped plantains (skin and all) to the cooked onions, right after the onions are tender. All of a sudden, you'll have a potato-like vegetable added in, while still giving you a lot more nutrition than a plain white potato will give you. The plantain skin, when stove-roasted, gives a very interesting and tasty texture that I really hope you'll try.
- If you can find it, add 3 chopped chayotes to the cooked onions, and sautee them until they're soft.
- Before adding the cumin and coriander seed, add about 1 tsp of black or white mustard seeds to the hot fat, and slam on the lid. The mustard seeds will pop like mad, smell amazing, and add a whole different dimension to the dish.
- After popping the cumin and coriander, add 1 tsp of either white or black sesame seeds. Again, you'll boost the iron content, and add lots of taste. This is such a family favourite that my mother adds sesame seeds to her popping spices quite frequently.
- Add any kind of dark leafy green that you can find at the store, from spinach, kale, collard greens, mustard greens, radish greens, escarole, endive, watercress, etc.
- If you're using large beans (kidney, black turtle, white, adzuki, chickpeas, etc), drain them after cooking, and dry roast them. There's a recipe in the book, but the basic concept is to just pop the spices, add some cooked and drained beans, add turmeric, salt, and chiles, then toss them around in the pan until they're roasted on the outside, and creamy on the inside. The beans get a completely different texture and flavour. Everything takes on a much different feeling.
- If you're using the large beans, and brown rice, try a brown rice & beans salad. Add chopped raw onions, some canned, frozen, or fresh corn, a diced tomato, diced cucumber, diced bell pepper, some shredded carrot, the juice of one lime, some salt, cumin powder, cilantro, and some salt and pepper. The beauty of the salad is that during those hot summer months, you can eat it cold, and add pretty close to whatever vegetable you like in the mix, and still keep things interesting. In fact, you could even toss that salad with a bunch of lettuce leaves to bulk it out a bit, and drizzle with a bit of olive oil, and you're ready to eat!
- Mash cooked beans and rice together, along with sauteed onion, garlic, a bit of carrot, and seasoning of your choice, then press into flat patties to bake at 350 for like 20 minutes or so. Eat over a green salad.
The sky is the limit when it comes to beans and rice, especially when you start pulling from other cultures, like Jamaican Rice & Peas, or Costa Rican Gallopinto, or North Indian daals, or Louisiana Red Beans & Rice. There are hundreds of other varieties, especially when you expand your budget to include different spices, spice blends, etc, different kinds of interesting vegetables (just buy one or two if you're broke), different beans, and different rice.
First, you really need to familiarise yourself with a basic daal tarka. I don't mean the complex ones involving multiple layers of spices, and all kind of vegetables. I'm talking your basic, starter edition.
2 cups of dried beans, soaked and cooked (buying dried beans will drop down the cost considerably from the cost of tinned; if you don't have the time for soaking and boiling, use red lentils, split peas, or brown lentils, which will cook up just as quickly.)
1 TB canola or other vegetable oil (don't substitute olive oil; its smoke point is way too small to allow the popping of spices)
1/2 tsp cumin seed (do not substitute powdered)
1/2 tsp coriander seed, lightly crushed (do not substitute powdered)
1 medium onion, chopped
1/4 tsp turmeric powder (if you can't find turmeric powder, use 1 tsp of curry powder)
Salt and black pepper to taste
1 1/2 cups water (either the cooking liquid from the beans, or fresh water if you threw them out already)
In a pot, add the oil, and heat it over highest heat. When the oil is hot enough that a bit of smoke escapes the surface, you're ready to add the spices. Add the coriander seed, wait about 30 seconds, and add the cumin seeds. These seeds will pop like mad. This is OK. When the popping has subsided, add the onion, and stir well to combine in the fat and spices. Add the turmeric powder after the onion cooks for about two minutes (still on highest heat). Once the onions are softened (not browned), add the cooked beans, the water, salt, and pepper. Stir to combine. Taste for seasoning, and adjust as necessary.
Why did I start in on this? I wanted to start somewhere, so that we're all on the same page when I discuss the variations. Because, you see, the variations are endless.
If you're not able to afford a lot of different things, buy one or two of each veg at the store, which won't amount to much money, and do some of the following.
- When you add the onions, augment it with one carrot, one chopped jalapeno (or other chile) of your choice. I remember when I was really broke one time, and wanted some chile peppers in my daal, and I went to the store. I bought 3. They cost about $1.50/lb, because they were out of season. The 3 chiles came to a few cents. I just needed one or two for each day, and I couldn't afford a full pound at the time. The cashier gave me an odd look, but let me get what I wanted.
- Instead of the chile pepper, substitute a red, green, or yellow pepper, and a pinch of cayenne pepper. It'll give the lovely spiciness of a chile peppers while adding a fair bit more bulk and colour.
- If you see it on sale, add a couple of ears of corn to the pot after you add the beans.
- If you have it, add 2 chopped plantains (skin and all) to the cooked onions, right after the onions are tender. All of a sudden, you'll have a potato-like vegetable added in, while still giving you a lot more nutrition than a plain white potato will give you. The plantain skin, when stove-roasted, gives a very interesting and tasty texture that I really hope you'll try.
- If you can find it, add 3 chopped chayotes to the cooked onions, and sautee them until they're soft.
- Before adding the cumin and coriander seed, add about 1 tsp of black or white mustard seeds to the hot fat, and slam on the lid. The mustard seeds will pop like mad, smell amazing, and add a whole different dimension to the dish.
- After popping the cumin and coriander, add 1 tsp of either white or black sesame seeds. Again, you'll boost the iron content, and add lots of taste. This is such a family favourite that my mother adds sesame seeds to her popping spices quite frequently.
- Add any kind of dark leafy green that you can find at the store, from spinach, kale, collard greens, mustard greens, radish greens, escarole, endive, watercress, etc.
- If you're using large beans (kidney, black turtle, white, adzuki, chickpeas, etc), drain them after cooking, and dry roast them. There's a recipe in the book, but the basic concept is to just pop the spices, add some cooked and drained beans, add turmeric, salt, and chiles, then toss them around in the pan until they're roasted on the outside, and creamy on the inside. The beans get a completely different texture and flavour. Everything takes on a much different feeling.
- If you're using the large beans, and brown rice, try a brown rice & beans salad. Add chopped raw onions, some canned, frozen, or fresh corn, a diced tomato, diced cucumber, diced bell pepper, some shredded carrot, the juice of one lime, some salt, cumin powder, cilantro, and some salt and pepper. The beauty of the salad is that during those hot summer months, you can eat it cold, and add pretty close to whatever vegetable you like in the mix, and still keep things interesting. In fact, you could even toss that salad with a bunch of lettuce leaves to bulk it out a bit, and drizzle with a bit of olive oil, and you're ready to eat!
- Mash cooked beans and rice together, along with sauteed onion, garlic, a bit of carrot, and seasoning of your choice, then press into flat patties to bake at 350 for like 20 minutes or so. Eat over a green salad.
The sky is the limit when it comes to beans and rice, especially when you start pulling from other cultures, like Jamaican Rice & Peas, or Costa Rican Gallopinto, or North Indian daals, or Louisiana Red Beans & Rice. There are hundreds of other varieties, especially when you expand your budget to include different spices, spice blends, etc, different kinds of interesting vegetables (just buy one or two if you're broke), different beans, and different rice.
5/8/12
You climb to what you think is the peak ...
Yesterday, bossman got a call from his lawyer that something that's been weighing rather heavily on his mind for the past five or so years has finally been resolved, and he can rest easy now. All the hours of time spent on it is finally at an end. He signed the last cheque to the credit card where he charged those fees. He's just waiting for the final paperwork, and he can relax.
Or not. Once that little matter has been resolved, and we think we've reached the top of the mountain, we look up, and see that we've only climbed a fraction of the beast, and we've got to keep going. Fortunately, we've got each other, to support and lend courage to each other when we falter on our journey. Unfortunately, even after all this, it looks like the journey is just getting started.
I guess I'm relieved in one way. It means that we're not going to stagnate. We're going to, as is necessary for any entity, change, grow, and evolve. Things can't (and shouldn't, in all reality) stay the same, or they stagnate, and stifle creativity. With that enormous burden lifted, and the possibility to move forward without devoting a chunk of one's brain to it, we're both able to see more clearly, and to really pull out the vast possibilities of places that we can move into. It's actually exciting in its own way.
It's like, if "all" I have to do is help get the perfect team, help craft a perfect menu, and ensure that every step of a customer's experience from the moment they think of us to the moment they leave is outstanding, I'd say I've got a challenging, but definitely workable road ahead of me. We're surrounded by people who love what they do, and are excited about moving forward too.
Although I can't really see the top of the mountain quite yet, I'm pretty sure it's there, and we'll all keep climbing it together.
Or not. Once that little matter has been resolved, and we think we've reached the top of the mountain, we look up, and see that we've only climbed a fraction of the beast, and we've got to keep going. Fortunately, we've got each other, to support and lend courage to each other when we falter on our journey. Unfortunately, even after all this, it looks like the journey is just getting started.
I guess I'm relieved in one way. It means that we're not going to stagnate. We're going to, as is necessary for any entity, change, grow, and evolve. Things can't (and shouldn't, in all reality) stay the same, or they stagnate, and stifle creativity. With that enormous burden lifted, and the possibility to move forward without devoting a chunk of one's brain to it, we're both able to see more clearly, and to really pull out the vast possibilities of places that we can move into. It's actually exciting in its own way.
It's like, if "all" I have to do is help get the perfect team, help craft a perfect menu, and ensure that every step of a customer's experience from the moment they think of us to the moment they leave is outstanding, I'd say I've got a challenging, but definitely workable road ahead of me. We're surrounded by people who love what they do, and are excited about moving forward too.
Although I can't really see the top of the mountain quite yet, I'm pretty sure it's there, and we'll all keep climbing it together.
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