Salted Caramel Crispy Rice Treats

My diabetic mother humored me by making me Rice Krispies Treats on occasion. Okay, she made this sugary "snack" only when I begged, pleaded, and kicked my feet like a lunatic suffering from narcotics withdrawal.

Between working full-time as a medical professional, raising two daughters, and battling a chronic illness that eventually claimed her life, my mother had no time for cooking. Even a recipe as simple as blending cereal with melted marshmallows and butter proved more than she could handle.

When I learned how to cook and do my own laundry toward the end of elementary school, I made my first batch of Rice Krispies Treats, and felt like I had crossed the magical threshold of Adulthood.

Today, as an actual adult who cares deeply about animal welfare and diabetes prevention, I had to give up this so-called snack that is made with ground-up bits of animal skin and bones.

But a few months ago, I discovered a vegan recipe for a rice cereal dessert in Alicia Silverstone's new book The Kind Diet. I modified Alicia's recipe this weekend by adding two teaspoons of cinnamon and two teaspoons of ground flaxseed.

While Salted Caramel Crispy Rice Treats aren't as crunchy as their nutritionally-inferior cousin, I am confident they would win any taste test, hands down.

What you need:
1/2 a bag of brown rice cereal, which you may find in the cereal aisle of most grocery stores
1 3/4 cups of brown rice syrup
3/4 cup of natural crunchy peanut butter
1/2 tsp. sea salt
2 tsp. cinnamon
2 tsp. ground flax seed, which you should be able to find in your grocer's baking aisle
a 9 X 13 pan or glass dish
a large glass or ceramic bowl

What to do:
Pour cereal into the ceramic bowl and set aside. Heat the brown rice syrup over medium heat and add salt. When the syrup starts to bubble, add the peanut butter and stir vigorously. Add the cinnamon and flax seed, and keep stirring until the sauce thickens. Pour the sauce over the cereal and stir until well combined. Use a wooden spoon or spatula to transfer the mixture to the pan; flatten and allow to cool for about an hour. Cut into squares and serve.

Eat Your Veggies: An Impromptu How-To Guide

I don't want to be the Stacy London of the blogosphere, you know, that person who is always telling other people what to eat and what not to eat.

For this reason, I adore the historian James E. McWilliams, who refuses to "preach" a "patronizing list of eating dos and don'ts" (117) in his book Just Food, which is the book that solidified my veggie monogamy.

Because I've done my research on veganism and environmental sustainability, I believe Williams when he writes that "if the world continues to eat meat at current rates, there's simply no way to achieve truly sustainable food production" (120). We can't save the world, or feed the world for that matter, if we keep eating meat at each meal. Something has to give, and that something is the meat-centric Western diet.

If you can't go vegan, at least consider doing your best at vegetarianism as often as possible.

McWilliams, who confesses to eating the occasional chicken (and loving it) suggests that Americans should conceive of meat as the "new caviar" (117). By all means, eat meat. Yet when you eat meat and other animal products, appreciate such food for what it truly is: a precious natural resource. Then, eat meat rarely.

If you want to embrace a veggie-based diet, start small. Do not immediately give up meat altogether. Begin by eating vegetarian meals twice a day. Remember, vegetarians generally eat eggs, dairy, and fish. Vegans do not eat any of the above.

Each week, allow one day in which all meals are vegetarian. When you feel ready, substitute a vegan meal for a vegetarian meal a couple of times a week. In a few months, you may want to substitute two vegan meals for the vegetarian meals, as you consider eliminating animal-based meals altogether from your diet.

At a time when you feel most confident in your ability to maintain a vegan diet, transition fully to veganism. Give yourself permission to eat animal products on occasion, as you would caviar.

Below you will find a grocery list for stocking a vegan kitchen.

Grains
quinoa*
couscous
whole wheat pasta (check to make sure eggs were not used)
cornmeal
whole wheat flour
unbleached, stone ground all-purpose flour
milled flaxseed (also makes a great egg-replacer)
slow-cooking oatmeal (the perfect breakfast)

Beans, Legumes, and Soy Products
black beans (canned or dried)
red beans (canned or dried)
garbanzo beans (canned or dried)
kidney beans (canned or dried)
pinto beans (canned or dried)
lentils (red, yellow, or brown)
black-eyed peas
split peas
edamame
tofu
textured vegetable protein*

Canned and Bottled Items:
diced tomatoes (organic and low-salt)
pumpkin
sundried tomatoes
kalamata olives
tahini paste*
natural nut butters*

Dried Fruit and Jam:
raisins
dried plums
dates
shredded unsweetened coconut
natural fruit jam (no-sugar added)

Nuts and Seeds:
almonds
pecans
walnuts
cashews
sunflower seeds
unhulled sesame seeds*
raw pumpkin Seeds*
natural, no-sugar nut butters*

Oils
olive oil
coconut oil
safflower oil
grapeseed oil

Sweeteners and Baking Ingredients:
grade-A maple syrup
brown rice syrup*
baker's chocolate
grain sweetened carob chips*
grain sweetened chocolate chips*

Top Five Spices
cinnamon
turmeric
cumin seeds
smoked paprika
crushed red pepper

Top Five Herbs
basil (purple and green)
cilantro
dill
parsley
thyme

Veggies We Buy Often
acorn squash
baby spinach
butternut squash
broccoli
carrot chips (carrots sliced into discs)
cabbage (red and green)
cauliflower
cucumbers
kale
eggplant
mushrooms
peppers (red, yellow, orange)
radishes
red onion
seaweed chips*
sweet potatoes
red potatoes

Fruit We Buy Often
frozen strawberries
frozen blueberries
frozen peaches
apples
avocado
bananas
grapefruit
grapes
mango
pineapple
strawberries

*You may have the best luck finding this item at a health food store.

Top Five Books For Compassionate Foodies
James E. McWilliams: Just Food:Where Locavores Get It Wrong And How We Can Truly Eat Responsibly
Jonathan Safran Foer: Eating Animals
Karl Webber: Food, Inc.
Michael Pollan: In Defense of Food
Thich Nhat Hanh and Dr. Lilian Cheung: Savor

Citrus Avocado Spinach Salad

Now is the time of year when I like to remind my relatives, who live in The North, that I spent the weekend in shorts and flip-flops. But as I am breaking out the sunscreen, I am also beginning to avoid the oven.

We live in an old house with a suitably persnickety temperament; our air conditioning refuses to wage battle with the oven which, when switched on, will rapidly heat the kitchen to sauna-like conditions. So for us, "spring" often translates to "salads."

Citrus Avocado Spinach Salad, which I know I promised more than a week ago (that makes it taste better), accomplishes two goals. One, the oven remains untouched. Two, if you (like me) spend the early days of spring humming "Dayenu" and fantasizing about the perfect haroset, this salad contains no chometz.

What you need:
1 lemon, juiced
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 shallots, finely minced
6 oz. spinach
1 avocado
1 grapefruit, peeled and cut into cute chunks
1/3 cup raw pumpkin seeds

What to do:
Whisk the olive oil into the lemon juice. Pour the spinach into a pretty bowl. Use a small flatware spoon to scoop pieces of avocado onto the spinach. Add grapefruit, shallots, and pumpkin seeds. Add dressing and toss with your hands (for added fun).

Btw: Using your hands to toss everything helps keep the avocado from getting mushy.

Not Your Mimi's Cornbread

The first time I heard Carl call his grandmother "Mimi" I summoned all composure to suppress a torrent of giggles. I had no reason to laugh, since I grew up calling my grandmother "Bubbie." Still, "Mimi" seemed like an odd term of endearment for one's grandmother, although I couldn't explain why I thought so. Knowing when not to irritate Carl with my condescending Yankee-isms, I saved my giggles for the day I listened to him tell me all the words Southerners have to describe one's urine.

Those with good manners would deem my last sentence inappropriate table talk, but please continue reading.

My Bubbie "cooked" (and I use this word loosely) from boxed mixes she kept on dust-free shelves in her two-bedroom apartment that always smelled like Windex and moth balls. When we ate at the white Formica table in her dining room, my sister and I scanned our food for (a) flecks of tin foil that had escaped the pan to dust our food like specks of mica on dirt (b) errant red press-on fingernails that had enjoyed short-lived lives atop Bubbie's fingers and embedded themselves in the meals we ate.

While I was learning what Sweet'n Low tasted like in mandelbrot (like Tylenol), Carl was watching his grandmother work culinary miracles in the house where she had raised and fed four children.

To this day, everything Mimi cooks inspires my awe. Her date pudding remains my absolute, all-time favorite dessert and I am struggling to give this recipe a vegan makeover in time for Mother's Day, during which I plan to cook and eat the food our mothers and grandmothers passed on to us. I hesitate to tamper too much with date pudding, since the recipe originated with Mimi's mother, who served the dessert each Sunday at the boarding house she ran in Hickory, North Carolina.

For Carl, Mimi's cornbread is the golden foodstuff of legend, and I have only just begun to work my vegan magic on this dish. Carl's initial response to Not Your Mimi's Cornbread?

"It doesn't need butter." Perhaps, the best compliment he has ever paid me.

BTW: We ate Not Your Mimi's Cornbread with a Citrus Avocado Spinach Salad so watch for that recipe later this week. Oh, and I adapted the cornbread recipe from Alex Jamieson's The Great American Detox Diet.

What you need for Not Your Mimi's Cornbread
1 cup cornmeal
1 cup almond milk or soy milk
1 cup thawed frozen corn
1 tsp smoked paprika
1 tsp. baking powder
2 tbsp sliced jalapeno, from a jar
1 serving of vegan egg substitute, whisked
1 tbsp olive oil
1 cast iron skillet

What to do
Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Heat olive oil in the skillet on a low flame. Mix dry ingredients, then make a well in the center and fold in wet ingredients. Once mixed, pour the batter into your skillet and bake for 15 minutes.

Nigella's Chickpeas with Rocket and Sherry (with a Southern Twang)

While excessive apologies make me squirm, I should say "sorry" for vacating the blog. Sorry, dear blog, for the hiatus. Blame spring, blame school, blame spring quarter.

Now I'm back and have a story to share. It goes like this: When I found out this winter that I was teaching a noon to 2 p.m. class, my first thought was: WHEN AM I GOING TO EAT LUNCH??? (Yes, when it comes to meals I always think in capital letters and employ punctuation liberally.)

The first day of school snuck up on me last week, and that sucker found me feeling more jittery than pleasurable at 8 a.m. on a Thursday morning. So I did what any terrified, first-time teacher would do. I uncorked a bottle of cream sherry.

Only the intense stare of my morally-superior husband prevented me from pouring that sherry into a crystal glass, and then taking a few generous sips. Why, you ask, did I have a bottle of sherry in my hands just after sun-up?

I wanted my back-to-school lunch -- the lunch that followed my first class -- to be special.

Lately, I am obsessed with Nigella's Chickpeas with Rocket and Sherry and claimed this recipe as The One. Btw: Stateside, we call "rocket" by the snootier name of "arugula." As a cheapskate who happens to live in Louisiana, I substituted turnip greens for the pricey rocket. Not bad, if I do say so myself.

Hopefully, my students will never know how frequently I thought of the lunch awaiting me as I tried to make a good impression, teach them something useful, and stop myself from sounding like a crazy old person when I said things like, "Stop rustling your papers" or "Is it just me, or is it really hot in here?" and punctuated my sentences with a long, deflated um.

Super Sundried Tomato Squash Soup with Snaps to Nigella Lawson

I like to make sure Carl eats well. Despite how 1950s that idea sounds, I have not defected from the divine sisterhood of third-wave feminists, of which I am a lifetime member. To borrow loosely from Gail Godwin's vocational musings in her novel Evensong, cooking makes more of me (no pun intended). We should all enjoy what makes more of us.

On Sundays, I usually serve leftovers to save time, but last night's dinner of chickpeas and arugula simmered in cumin seeds, olive oil, and cream sherry was so fantastic that I had to begin from scratch today.

Btw: I thank my cousin Gail, a nutritionist, for teaching me how to make Sundried Tomato Squash Soup when she visited during Mardi Gras 2008. Thanks also go to my shero Nigella Lawson for the delish salad recipe.

What you need for Sundried Tomato Squash Soup:
1 butternut squash
1/2 8.5 oz. jar of sundried tomatoes in oil, rinsed and drained
1/2 white onion chopped
1 clove garlic minced
1/2 tsp smoked paprika
1/2 tsp cayenne pepper
pinch of nutmeg
1 tbsp olive oil
6 cups water
2 cubes low sodium vegan boullion cubes (I used Rapunzel)

What to do:
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Halve the butternut squash and scoop out seeds. (You may save them to roast for a snack.) Brush the squash halves lightly with olive oil and place skin side down on a cookie tray. Roast for an hour.

In the meantime, saute the onion and garlic in a stock pot. Add water and boullion, bring to a boil and let simmer for 30 minutes. Then add sundried tomatoes. Simmer until the squash has finished cooking, then allow the broth and squash to cool for another half hour.

Remove skins from squash with a vegetable peeler. Cube squash and add everything to the pot. Use an immersion blender to puree. If you do not have an immersion blender, transfer half the soup to a standard blender and puree in batches. (Times like these definitely make me wish we owned an immersion blender.) Transfer the soup to a heatproof bowl as you blend. Once finished, return the soup to the pot and add spices. Simmer until ready to serve.

Woman's Seed Savory Granola

Please excuse my super geeky title that alludes to Paradise Lost. I've had my nose buried in Milton's poem for the past three months and now it seems only "fit" that I name a recipe after my favorite bad-girl gardener.

If you've not read Paradise Lost, I apologize for my momentary lapse into social awkardness -- and for outing myself as a Milton-loving-vegan-English-graduate student. (I know, how original.)

Woman's Seed Savory Granola fuels my immodest appetite while I write, read, and write some more. A delightful cinnamon-chili powder spice mix makes this granola the greatest snack since sin.

What you'll need:
3 cups old-fashioned oatmeal
1/2 cup sunflower seeds, unsalted
1/2 cup pumpkin seeds, unsalted
1/4 cup unhulled sesame seeds
4 tbsp brown rice syrup
1 or 2 tbsp(s) cinnamon
1 tbsp chili powder
a smidgen of coconut oil or safflower oil

What to do:
Preheat your oven to 350 degrees. Lightly oil a 9 x 13 in. baking dish. Pour in the oatmeal. Then add 2 tbsp brown rice syrup. Use two flatware tablespoons to toss the oatmeal into the syrup, until everything coats nice and glossy. Pour in the sesame seeds, pumpkin seeds, and sesame seeds. Add 1 more tbsp of syrup and toss some more until well mixed. Add spices with the remaining syrup and mix again.

Bake for 25 to 30 minutes depending on your oven.

BTW: Eat as an in-between meal snack, or while reading Paradise Lost, Areopagitica, Tetrachordon, The Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce, and De Doctrina Christiana.

Feels Like Spring Roll

Last week, four inches of snow covered our front lawn. Today, we wore shorts and t-shirts on our Saturday afternoon dog-walk. Louisiana weather loves to surprise.

I broke a light sweat midway through our walk, and my sun-fueled food associations went like this: "It feels like spring. I MUST make spring rolls!"

Fortunately, I'm prepared for such out-of-the-blue food cravings, and I keep a stocked fridge/freezer/pantry. This is how anal retentive I am: Once a month I grate 1 head of red cabbage, 3 carrots, 10 mushrooms, and 1/2 red onion in the blender, just in case I may want potstickers, spring rolls, or dumplings at some point in the next 30 days.

I mix everything with 1 tbsp. sesame oil and 1 tbsp of Bragg's Liquid Aminos. Then I divide the mixture into four pint-sized freezer bags. I add other ingredients depending on factors as random as, you guessed it, the weather.

The dirty little secret of spring rolls is that they look difficult, but require minimal to no cooking depending on the ingredients. Figuring out a "roll" technique (especially for weirdo lefties like me) presents the greatest challenge.

Fortunately, I will overcome all challenges for food. (The photo doesn't lie).

What you need:

1 cabbage/carrot/mushroom/onion mix, thawed

1/2 bag frozen peas, thawed

1 bunch of cilantro, chopped

1 package of rice paper (I bought mine at an Asian grocery)

soy sauce or Bragg's Liquid Amino's

1 jar of red or green curry paste

1 bowl hot water

2 plates

What to do:

Saute the cabbage mixture in a wok, until the liquid evaporates. Turn the burner off, then add peas and cilantro.

Take one piece of rice paper and stick it in the bowl of hot water. The paper will soften and become pliable. Once this happens, remove the rice paper to a plate. Add a few spoonfuls of veggies about two inches from the bottom edge of the rice paper; spoon the veggies so that they form a thin vertical line. Roll up like a burrito, making sure to fold and tuck the edges as you go. Move the rolls to your second plate.

Mix a tablespoon or two of the curry paste with a few tablespoons of soy sauce or Bragg's Liquid Aminos for a dipping sauce.

BTW: I served my spring rolls with Dal with Cilantro and Coconut Cream.

Some Serious Breadage

This morning I read this not-so-shocking New York Times article about sugar supplanting tobacco in American life. Not so shocking because, if you're a hardcore label reader like me, you'd know that sugar saturates the Western diet.

Sugar, in fact, has slapped me back into the bread-baking saddle, which I abandoned in September when school started. But during recent trips to various grocery stores around town, I discovered sugar lurking in the most unexpected of places, namely bread and crackers.

I LOVE bread and crackers. In all vegan honesty, I can say: I'd devour a NYC street pretzel over a cone of Milanese gelato in a heartbeat. Dairy has never been my vice. On the other hand, I regularly dream about bread. Sugar, however, gives me nightmares since my mom died from type-1 diabetes. My Dad, bless his heart, manages type-2.

Bread baking became a passion of mine in 2006, when I struggled to perfect a friend's challah recipe. Veganism has upped the stakes, since I now eschew eggs, milk, and other animal-based unmentionables. My commitment to a no-cane sugar, no-refined carbs diet has made bread-baking quite the challenge in our home. But, since it's impossible to buy vegan sugar-free bread where we live in the culinary badlands of northern Louisiana, I must bake the bread I want to eat.

And if I care about anything, I care about bread. Each week I will experiment with new recipes and post what I consider "successes." Btw: "successes" represent bread that I would serve to the most discerning of eaters, my sister. (This analogy doesn't quite work, since she's gluten-free, but you get the point).

This recipe comes from Mark Bittman's October 8, 2008 New York Times article: "No-Knead Bread: Not Making Itself Yet, but a Lot Quicker." I adapted the "Fast No-Knead Whole Wheat Bread" recipe by doubling the rise time; allowing bread a longer rise time enhances the rich flavor of whole grain wheat and rye flours that cut to the heart of Some Serious Breadage.

What you need:

2 cups stone ground whole wheat flour

1/2 cup whole rye flour

1/2 cup cornmeal

1 tsp instant yeast

1 1/2 tsp sea salt olive oil as needed

a nice big glass bowl

damp kitchen towel

What to do:

Mix the flours, cornmeal, yeast and salt in the glass bowl. Make a well in the center of the flour and add 1 1/2 cups of water. Use a wooden spoon to combine the ingredients, until the mixture forms a shaggy dough. That's it! Cover with a warm kitchen towel and place in the warmest room of your house. (For us, that's the living room.) Come back to the bowl in four hours and punch down the dough. Then oil your hands with olive oil and shape the dough into an oiled loaf pan (any size). Cover with a warm towel and go do something else for four more hours.

An hour before dinner, stick the loaf in a 350 degree oven and leave it there for 45 minutes.

Baby Bella Pasta For Two

St. Valentine's Day seems a bit treyf to Jewish Vegan girls like me, who can't get behind the uncritical celebration of a Roman Catholic feast day that honors good, old fashioned, in-the-name-of-Jesus martyrdom.

So what, you ask, about the shameless, secular carbo-choco-loading that V-Day heralds? Now that, I support.

While we won't be sitting down to a romantic dinner for two in our house, where meals always dissolve into one of us batting away an adventurous cat (or dog) who has vaulted atop our table, I can offer menu advice.

Baby Bella Pasta for Two represents one unsolicited suggestion, from our tables to yours.

What you need:

12 baby portobello mushrooms, washed and sliced

1/2 red onion, washed and diced

2 cloves garlic, minced

2 sprigs parsley, minced

1 sprig dill minced

a few handfuls of basil leaves, minced

1 cup sliced kalamata olives

1 cup reconstituted textured vegetable protein

1 jar marinara sauce (sugar and HFCS free)

1/2 box whole wheat vegan pasta (or rice noodles)

1 tbsp. olive oil

1/2 to 1 cup red wine

What to do:

Boil water for pasta. Saute the mushrooms, onions, garlic, and herbs in olive oil while you're waiting for the water to boil. Add wine midway through cooking and reduce. Once the wine reduces, add marinara sauce, vegetable protein, and olives. Cover and simmer until the pasta cooks to your liking.

Serve with a tossed salad, red wine, and chocolate pumpkin truffles.

Practically Paella

I ate my first paella my junior year of college, after my roommate returned from her Madrid study abroad, from which she schlepped bags of saffron and rice back to our apartment in Syracuse, N.Y.

We entered college as vegetarians -- and bonded at 18 over our shared scorn for eating anything "that had a face" -- but we eventually lost our veggie v-cards to travels abroad; it takes a monastic level of discipline for an inexperienced vegetarian to practice meat-abstinence when faced with the unpredictable and diverse food of carnivorous cultures. (The free-flowing alcohol doesn't help matters much, either).

Although it kills me to own up to my past, I should disclose that I once ate a bunny in Crete, devoured haggis on the isle of Arran, and licked my plate clean in Paris after downing the best Salade Nicoise I have ever tasted.

Traditional paella hails from Valencia and does not conform to vegan standards. VeganforEveryone loves a challenge, hence "Practically Paella."

What you need:

1 green bell pepper, sliced into thin strips

1 orange bell pepper, sliced into thin strips

1 packaged button mushrooms, washed and sliced

1 small yellow onion, chopped

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 can diced tomatoes (low sodium and organic preferred)

1 can artichoke hearts, rinsed and drained

1 bag frozen peas, thawed

1 package frozen chopped spinach, thawed and drained

a few springs parsley and dill, finely chopped

1 tbsp. curry or turmeric (a much cheaper alternative to saffron)

1 tbsp. olive oil

1 cup brown or wild rice (or a combination)

What to do:

Cook rice according to package directions. Saute the peppers, onions, garlic, and mushrooms in a wok or large pan that has a lid. Add peas and spinach once the veggies cook. Then add the artichokes, tomatoes, curry/turmeric, and herbs. Cover and cook on low heat for 20 minutes.

Serve over rice.

Btw: I served "Practically Paella" with side dishes of baked beets and tangerines.

Badass Bruschetta

A friend brought us a delicious, presumably vegan loaf of ciabatta last week. I say "presumably vegan" because Italian bakers traditionally make ciabatta with flour, water, salt, and yeast. Also, after bread shopping recently, I have come to view all storebought bread with a skeptical eye.

Don't write me off as a communist yet. My widespread-bread-panic started last week when I watched my friend Victoria eat the most beautiful sandwich I have seen in years: a marriage of hummus, avocado, red peppers, cucumbers, and lettuce. I ogled her lunch without shame, and the foodie in me said, "I'll have what she's having."

The supermarket had other plans. These plans thwarted my own. No matter how hard I tried, I could not find a single piece of bread fit for vegan consumption. Not even a crumb.

I read every single label of every single package of bread. Bread that didn't have eggs had honey; bread that didn't have eggs and honey had HFCS or added cane sugar (to which I refuse to condescend).

My Badass Bruschetta promises to give rise to a new obsession with vegan bread making. Check out my dips tonight and consider them a commercial for the "bread post" coming soon.

What you need to kick Badass Bruschetta Artichoke-Style:
1 can artichoke hearts, drained, and thoroughly rinsed
2 cloves garlic
6 basil leaves
4 sprigs parsley
juice of 1/2 lemon
1 tbsp olive oil

What to do:
Puree everything in a food processor or blender. Serve on toasted vegan bread. How easy is that?

What you need to kick Badass Bruschetta Ratatouille-Style:
1 eggplant, roasted, skinned, and chopped
1 package cherry tomatoes, roasted
1 red bell pepper, sliced into strips, and roasted
2 portabella mushrooms, sliced
1 large yellow squash, sliced
1 large zucchini, sliced
1 red onion, chopped
1 can diced tomatoes, organic and low sodium preferred
2 cloves garlic, chopped
1 tbsp chopped fresh dill
1 tbsp chopped fresh parsley
1 tbsp olive oil
red wine, any kind, to taste

What to do:
Saute onions and garlic in olive oil over medium heat, add the mushrooms until reduced. Repeat with each vegetable individually in this order: squash, zuchinni, tomatoes, eggplant, red pepper. Add red wine (up to an entire bottle if you're a thrill seeker) and cook until reduced. Add diced tomatoes. Simmer all day. Ratatouille does not like to rush. Serve on toasted bread.

BTW: I love to serve this recipe with a pretty salad made of equal parts romaine or red leaf lettuce, spinach, radishes, and vidalia onions cut in thinly sliced rings. For dressing I offer the usual: lemon juice whisked with equal parts olive oil.

Crunchy Granola Smoothie Revolution

For years, I nursed an addiction to supermarket granola. I had no clue that I could make granola in half the time it takes to drive to the store and buy a bag replete with petroleum-laden wrapping and a multi-paragraph ingredient list.

Hindsight can be such an ass-kicker. But vegan girls don't let youthful ignorance stand in the way of breakfast. Crunchy Granola takes five minutes to throw together and bakes for about 30. That's it. No big deal. Just a toss and a bake.

BTW: Crunchy Granola makes a wondrous weekend breakfast when accompanied by a fruit smoothie. Maybe I'm exaggerating when I say that the black-cherry-berry-banana-pineapple smoothie I pureed this morning tasted like summer in a cup, but that's how I feel.

What you need for Crunchy Granola:

One cup oatmeal, not instant

1 tsp. coconut oil or safflower oil

4 tbsp. brown rice syrup

1/4 cup chopped walnuts

1/4 cup raisins

1/4 cup raw unsalted pumpkin seeds

1/4 cup shredded unsweetened coconut flakes

1/8 cup raw unhulled sesame seeds

2 tbsp. cinnamon

a pinch or two of nutmeg

What to do:

Preheat oven to 350. Grab a pie dish and coat with oil. Pour the oatmeal into the pie dish. Use two small flatware spoons to mix 2 tbsp. of the brown rice syrup with the oatmeal. Toss vigorously because the syrup is stickier than molasses. Completely coat the oatmeal. Add the remaining ingredients up until coconut flakes. Then add the remaining syrup and toss until everything is coated. Next add sesame seeds and toss. Repeat with spices.

Bake for 25 to 30 minutes. After removing from the oven, let the granola stand for a few minutes. Then use a knife to separate the granola into bite-sized pieces. The granola will be soft; it hardens as it cools.

(I like to make Crunchy Granola at night. I let it harden in a covered stainless-steel container while we sleep.)

What you need for a Smoothie Revolution:

6 oz. frozen unsweetened blueberries

1 14.5 oz. can pineapple in juice (not syrup)

1 banana, halved

8 oz. black cherry juice concentrate (I use Knudsen's)

2 cups filtered water

a kick-ass blender (I use Kitchenaid)

Pour the cherry juice concentrate and water into a blender. Add fruit. Puree until smooth and frothy.

This recipe makes a few servings. Just refrigerate the smoothie in the blender pitcher, and blend again before serving. Summer in a cup, right?

Lovechild Roasted Eggplant Hummus

In the spirit of confession, I should say that I have never been to a football game nor seen one on TV. Yet I hear something called The Superbowl is happening on Sunday, and I cannot help but interject an opinion re: menu planning.

Last weekend, while feeling particularly adult-like, I decided to increase the protein content of my beloved baba ghanoush by blending it with my hummus.

Lovechild Roasted Eggplant Hummus represents the product of this union.

What You Need:

2 eggplants; halved, salted for an hour, rinsed, and drained

2 cans chickpeas; rinsed thoroughly and drained

4 cloves garlic, peeled

1/2 cup lemon juice

1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil + 1 tablespoon

2 tablespoons tahini

a few sprigs parsley

sea salt

paprika

What to do:

Drizzle the eggplant halves with olive oil and place directly on the oven rack, skin side down. Roast at 350 degrees for 30 minutes. Then flip them over and roast for another 30 minutes. Let cool for a few minutes, then remove the skins. (Rarely do I approve of removing skin from anything, but the hummus will taste bitter if the eggplant skins are not removed). Next, quarter the eggplant.

Then whisk together the olive oil and lemon juice. Place the parsley, garlic, olive oil, and lemon in a blender. Puree for a few minutes. Then add the eggplant and puree again. Repeat this step with chickpeas and tahini.

Use a spatula to scrape the hummus into a medium-sized dish. Salt to taste and sprinkle with a dash or two (or three) of paprika.

Chill and serve with whole-grain pita bread, pita chips and/or veggies. Consider adding a bowl of olives and a fruit salad to the table.

Dal with Cilantro and Coconut Cream

My friend Lauren made Dal a few weeks ago, and the photos she posted caused me to covet her food. Then VeganDad posted an enticing Dal recipe last week. Food envy threatened my concentration. I obsessed over Dal recipes. So I decided to welcome the synchronicity.

This weekend I adapted a recipe from Deborah Madison's Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone (304). I added olive oil and an onion, and I used brown lentils instead of red because no supermarket around these parts sells anything as fancy as red lentils. Also, I substituted 2 tablespoons curry powder for the minced ginger, and I added 2 teaspoons of dried cilantro in place of the chopped cilantro stems. Oddly, Madison's recipe leaves out curry, which strikes me as sacrilege.

This recipe does not take much stirring, but requires a generous pinch of patience and flexibility.

What you need:

1 tbsp. olive oil

1 bag of brown lentils

1 onion, chopped

3 gloves garlic, minced

1 jalapeno pepper, minced

several tablespoons of coconut cream (the cream rises to the top of a can of coconut milk, so you just need to scrape off the cream)

sea salt

water

What to do:

Sautee the onion, garlic, and jalapeno in olive oil over medium heat.

Add the lentils when the vegetables soften, then add enough water to cover the lentils by one or two inches.

Cover the pot and cook on low heat.

Keep checking the pot (about once every half hour).

Add more water if necessary, the goal is to get the lentils to soften without drying out and scorching the pot.

Once the lentils have softened, add the curry powder and cilantro.

Stir in the coconut creme (add enough until the Dal turns a pale yellow).

Cover and simmer until ready to serve.

You may choose to serve the Dal over rice, but that is not necessary.

Chocolate Pumpkin Truffles

Carl slept in this morning and I, of course, woke before sunrise. Not wanting to wake him from precious slumber, I exiled myself to the playroom (aka "our kitchen") and explored vegan candy-making.

I found this recipe for chocolate pumpkin truffles here: http://blog.easyaspierecipes.com/2009/10/at-lastpumpkin-truffles.html. Oh, I added a bit more cinnamon because I love it. To veganize, I substituted agave nectar for honey. (The bees can thank me later.)

Btw: The pumpkin taste is a bit overwhelming if you're the kind of person who likes, but does not love, pumpkin. Next time (and there will be a next time) I plan to add 1/2 cup of finely ground dates to the batter.

What you need for the truffles:

8 oz. unsweetened baker's chocolate

1 can pumpkin

2 tsp. nutmeg

2 tsp. cinnamon

3/4 cup agave nectar

1/4 cup water

What to do:

Place the chocolate into a mixing bowl.

Use a spatula to scrape the pumpkin into a small pot, and cook over medium heat.

Add the spices, agave nectar, water and stir.

Cover with a lid for a few minutes, until everything starts to bubble (not a rolling boil).

When the pumpkin mixture bubbles, pour it over the chocolate.

Cover the mixing bowl with a kitchen towel or linen napkin.

After two minutes, whisk as fast as you can, until the chocolate melts and blends with the pumpkin.

Cover and refrigerate for about four hours.

While you wait:

Chop a few handfuls of nuts (any kind you like) in a food processor (I used a mini-processor because I hate the clunk-factor of a regular one).

Pour the nuts into a small bowl.

Mix 1 tbsp. cinnamon with 1 tbsp. chili powder with 1 tbsp. cocoa powder in another bowl.

Layer wax paper or parchment paper onto a cookie sheet.

When the truffle batter has chilled:

Use a spoon to scoop the batter.

Roll the batter in the palm of your hands to form a small ball.

Roll the ball in the spice or nut mixture (I alternated).

Place the ball on the cookie sheet.

Chill and store the truffles in the refrigerator.