Sunday, 28 August 2016

Stellar Sandwiches for Funeral Feasts


Anyone who's ever attended a funeral buffet will undoubtedly remember the sandwich tray. Depending on the deceased's ancestry, one might find baked ham and cheese buns, mortadella on focaccia bread, pulled pork in a kaiser roll, or liverwurst on dark rye.

If you're planning a funeral or memorial service and are staring blankly at a wall trying to figure out what to feed everyone, take a deep breath, and know that you can depend on tea sandwiches. They're the ideal foods for such events because they can be eaten with one hand whilst chatting with friends and family members, and tend to be tidy enough that they won't erupt all over one's formalwear.
I was once served a slice of Swedish "sandwich cake" (Smörgåstårta) that was truly a thing of beauty: multiple layers of fish paste, shrimp, sliced hardboiled eggs, smoked salmon, cucumber, and cream cheese between thin layers of bread. That's a bit much for a funeral buffet, but it just goes to show that one can rise above the standard melty ham and cheese bake and add a bit of variety to a solemn affair.



I tend to prefer vegetarian fillings in funeral sandwiches, mainly because plant-based ingredients don't go quite as dangerously manky as chicken salad or smoked salmon if left out on a buffet table at room temperature for several hours.

When it comes to the breads and such being used, that's really a matter of individual taste + dietary requirements. For the sake of presentation, it's nice to use a variety of different breads in various ways, such as using pumpernickel to make rolled rounds, or stuffed mini croissants.

Knowing how difficult it is to find food that won't poison me when I attend events, I tend to be the one who brings gluten-free or paleo dishes that we Celiac folks can munch in solidarity.

GF breads can be found at most supermarkets and health food stores, and though paleo rolls are a bit time consuming to make, they turn out rather delicious. If you can get your hands on corn flour-based tortillas, those are also wonderful for GF wraps.


The fillings listed below are categorised as vegetarian with V, vegan with VG, and  Paleo with P. There's a lot of crossover, and of course recipes can always be adapted by swapping ingredients in or out. For example, one can use mashed avocado in lieu of any kind of mayonnaise, Tofutti instead of cream cheese, etc.



Chick'n Salad with Cranberries and Walnuts (VG)
Pulse drained, canned chickpeas in a food processor with a handful each of dried cranberries and walnuts. Mix in some vegan mayonnaise, season with salt and pepper, and spread between slices of grainy bread.

Cucumber, Dill, and Almond "Feta" Soft Cream Cheese (VG, P)
Make a batch of soft almond cheese, and spread it between slices of your favourite bread. Top with thinly sliced cucumber, a sprinkle of salt, a sprig of dill, and even some minced capers, if you so desire. I like this best inside very light, mini GF scones.

Artichoke Muffaletta (VG, P)
Drained artichoke hearts are put through a food processor with a bit of vegan mayonnaise or avocado, and then seasoned with salt, pepper, Cajun spice mix, and tabasco sauce. That's then packed into a mini bun and topped with chopped green olives, minced green onion, and thinly shredded lettuce.

Tomato Slices on Basil Pesto (VG)
A classic: basil pesto spread on whatever you like, and topped with a slice of firm, ripe tomato. Add a bit of salt and pepper, and you're golden.

Hummus with Beet Carpaccio (VG, P option)
Not only rich in flavour, the textures of creamy hummus and slices of sweet roasted beet pair together wonderfully. Use golden beets to avoid inevitable pink staining that red ones will cause. To make a paleo version of this, make hummus from sweet potatoes, cauliflower, or parsnips instead of chick peas.

Mushroom Pate with Dijon (VG, P)
Spread whole-grain Dijon mustard on light or dark rye, top with sliced mushroom pate and either a slice of bread-and-butter gherkin, or a bit of Boston lettuce.

Black Bean and Avocado Bites (VG)
This is great as a filling in mini croissants: use a fork (or food processor) to mash black beans into a thick paste, and season that with salt, pepper, chopped green onions, and a bit of lime juice. Slice open the little pastries, slather some of the black bean mash inside, and top that with a slice or two of avocado and a pinch of salt before closing.

Sliced Hard-Boiled Egg with Veggie "Caviar" (V, P)
These fancy appetizer bites are a nod to my Germanic/Nordic heritage: spread a bit of butter or Earth Balance on flatbread, top with a spray of arugula, a couple of slices of hard-boiled egg, and a small dollop of vegan caviar.

Provolone with Mango Chutney (V)
Mango chutney's tart/sweet combo complements provolone's creaminess in the best way imaginable. Spread multigrain bread with Earth Balance (or butter, or other vegan margarine) on one piece, mango chutney on the other, and sandwich a slice of provolone and a piece of frisée lettuce between them.

Roasted Asparagus Tips with Garlic-Herb Aioli (VG, P)
Roast asparagus tips with a bit of olive oil and good salt, then lay them out between slices of bread (or wrapped up in a tortilla) that's been spread with paleo or vegan aioli.



Olive Tapenade and Cucumber (VG)
The salty creaminess of vegan olive tapenade is a perfect contrast to the crisp sweetness of thinly sliced cucumber. This is great on focaccia bread or any other base that has some firm chewiness to it. (Note: If you use store-bought tapenade, check its ingredients as many varieties have anchovies added to them.)

Baba Ghanoush with Roasted Red Pepper and Zucchini Slices (VG, P)
Slice a mini pita pocket in half, spread baba ghanoush inside each half, add a layer each of roasted zucchini and red pepper slices, roll up, spear with a toothpick.

Cornbread and Guacamole Bites (V, VG option)
Slice mini cornbread muffins in half and fill with thickly mashed guacamole. Close so they look like mini green burgers.

Cauliflower "Egg" Salad (VG, P)
This one works for the autoimmune paleo diet as well. Combine steamed cauliflower florets with vegan mayo, minced celery, onion, salt, pepper, and even a pinch of turmeric for flavour. Pack into mini rolls or roll it up into wraps.

Ploughman's (V)
Slather Branston Pickle (or other favourite sandwich spread) between hearty bread slices along with with sliced aged cheddar and finely chopped pickled onions.

Tofu Banh Mi Rolls (VG)
Take mini rolls and fill them (generously) with vinegar-marinated carrot and daikon radish matchsticks, fried tofu strips, and lettuce.

Almond Butter with Apple (VG, P)
This is a great option for kids attending the funeral, as it's one they probably won't feel intimidated by. Spread almond butter on your bread of choice, top with peeled, thinly sliced red or yellow apple, and a drizzle of honey or agave syrup.

Cashew Cream "Cheese" with Roasted Strawberry Slices (VG, P)
A little fussy to make, but well worth the effort. The cashews need to be pre-soaked to make the "cheese" and the strawberries will need to be pre-roasted, but once the prep work is done, you can spread everything between slices of good, firm bread and dig in.



Tuesday, 16 August 2016

A Broth to Soothe a Wounded Heart


Sorrow and mourning can take many forms, as death and loss can come in so many different guises. Sometimes it isn't the physical death of a loved one that we mourn, but the end of something we cherished. The loss of a job, or a friendship, or an intimate relationship, or even a lost pet. So many experiences tear holes into us, and we have to practice a fair bit of self care in order to heal those wounds so they don't grow and fester.

I've mentioned that one of the most nourishing foods I've come across yet is bone broth, as it isn't just a soothing internal hug, but also replenishes a body right down to the cellular level. It can be used as the base for a heavier soup, or just enjoyed on its own by the mugful; something that I try to do as often as possible, especially during the autumn and winter months. Quite often, a cup of this broth first thing in the morning does more to wake me and replenish my spirits than half a dozen cups of coffee ever could.

When making a healing bone broth, it's important to use bones from organically raised (preferably grass-fed) livestock, as you're aiming for the most nutrient-dense, healing food possible. Antibiotics and heavy metals are drawn into bones and marrow through the animal's bloodstream, so if you make a broth from conventionally raised animal bones, you'll be ingesting all those chemicals as well.

In addition to avoiding those chemicals, there's another vitally important reason for choosing bones from ethically raised animals, which was described so perfectly by my friend Cat Lane that when I asked, she granted me permission to quote her directly:
"There's another reason for this choice - because the bones of animals raised in hell and killed in anguish are not good medicine, not for our bodies and not for our souls. I make grief soups and teas as well, and for myself they don't contain animals at all, but plants raised with love and harvested with gratitude. That's not because I'm vegan - I'm not - but because no matter how hard I try, I can't not feel the animals' journey, when I am taking it's body into my own. And even 'happy cows' probably didn't want to die. That said, I make bone broth for dogs and all kinds of cat and dog foods with other animals, and the process of nurturing others soothes my own chronic spiritual pain. As long as it comes from animals that lived and died reasonably. We can't change the cycle of life, but we can engage in it with gentleness and wisdom and respect."


Bone Broth

  • 3-4 pounds of beef, bison, elk, deer, or moose bones (an assortment of meaty and marrow bones is ideal)
  • 1 medium-large onion, peeled and chopped coarsely
  • 1 large carrot, peeled and diced
  • 1 celery stalk, diced
  • 1 small leek or 1 large bunch of green onions, washed and chopped 
  • 2 garlic cloves, peeled and smashed
  • 2-3 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
  • 1 generous pinch of summer savoury, either dried or fresh
  • 1 teaspoon fresh parsley, chopped
  • Good salt (I use pink Himalayan salt, but sea salt works as well)


Preparation:

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees.
Arrange the bones in a baking dish, and roast for 30-45 minutes, or until the marrow softens and begins to melt.

Place the bones in a large soup pot (or crock pot, if you have one). Cover with water until they're submerged by a couple of inches, add the vinegar (which will help to draw the nutrients out of the bones) bring to a boil, and then reduce to a low simmer.

After about 4 hours, add the rest of the ingredients, and add more water until everything is just covered. Let this cook for at least another 8 hours, though I'd recommend letting it simmer for another 12. Basically, the longer you let this simmer, the more nutritious the broth will be, and the more flavour will be developed therein. 

To strain your stock, use a large, slotted spoon to remove the bones and the larger vegetables, then strain the liquid into a large bowl. Add salt to taste, but try not to make it too salty: you're aiming for nourishment more than just flavour content.
The broth can be transferred to glass Mason jars or even a large pitcher, and transferred to the refrigerator once it's cooled to room temperature. Once cooled, a layer of fat will have accumulated and hardened on the broth's surface: you can scrape this off and keep it in the freezer to combine with seeds later to feed wild birds.


Don't freak out if/when your broth turns gelatinous: this is a good thing, as it means that collagen has been drawn out of the bones. That collagen is immensely healing for everything from sore throats and stomach ulcers to leaky gut, arthritis, and other types of joint inflammation. As soon as you heat the broth, the gel will dissolve back into liquid so you can sip it to your heart's content.

I've found that the best way to enjoy this broth is to do so mindfully: to sit quietly and focus entirely on each sip, appreciating the nutrients that are being drawn into my body without any distractions like TV or music or anyone else around me. Doing so brings a sacredness to this ritual, and that, as well as the broth itself, is immensely healing.



Thursday, 7 July 2016

Lemony Leek Pot Pie




I have to admit that I'm a sucker for a good pot pie. Whether it's my rampant Anglophilia or just the fact that I love breaking through pastry to get to savoury fillings, I'm not sure... but if I had to offer up one of my personal ultimate comfort foods, it would be some type of pot pie.

I'll often bake these for people who are going through a tough time, as pies freeze well and can be heated up in the oven whenever someone actually has an appetite. They're not best suited for funeral receptions, but instead are ideal for savouring alone or with a couple of friends; people in whose company we're totally comfortable, so we won't fret if we drop a few creamy peas onto our laps while eating.

Omnivore and vegan options are listed side by side below: when I make a chickeny pie for myself, I'll make one with tofu or other faux chick'n alternative for Sir N.
As a side note, if you or the people you're preparing this for don't have to eat gluten-free, please don't feel that you're required to make your own pie crust for this: you can absolutely use frozen pie shells, or puff pastry, or even a few sheets of phyllo instead. 

Gluten-Free Pie Crust Ingredients:

This pie crust is a variation on Anna Olson's flourless pie crust: I've just reduced the sugar so the crust can be used with a savoury filling.
  • 2 cups brown rice flour
  • 1/2 cup tapioca starch
  • 1/2 teaspoon sugar
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1 cup EACH chilled cream cheese and chilled unsalted butter (or 2 cups Earth Balance)
  • 2 egg whites (or 1/2 cup aquafaba)

Directions:

Use a whisk to combine all the dry ingredients in a large bowl. Cut the cream cheese and butter (or Earth Balance) into 1/2 inch pieces, and work into the dough with a pair of forks until a crumbly texture is formed.

In a separate bowl, whisk your eggwhites (or aquafaba) until frothed up, and then blend them into the dough. Take care not to overwork it: it should all just be combined. Separate the dough into 2 balls, flatten them into discs, cover with plastic wrap, and chill for an hour or so prior to use.



Pie Filling Ingredients:

  • 2-3 boneless, skinless chicken breasts (OR a brick of semi-firm tofu, OR a package of Gardein Chick'n Scallopini)
  • 3 tablespoons olive oil
  • 2 tablespoons lemon juice
  • 2 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 teaspoon salt
  • A few twists of ground pepper

Marinate the chicken breasts in the above mixture for at least an hour, then sear in a hot pan until browned on all sides. Set aside until cooled a bit, then chop into bite-sized pieces. If using the Chick'n Scallopini patties, just chop them up and season with a bit of lemon and salt.



Filling:

  • 3 leeks, sliced thinly (white and pale light green parts only), washed, and drained
  • 1/4 cup butter OR Earth Balance
  • 2 cups chicken OR onion OR vegetable stock
  • 1 teaspoon chopped fresh tarragon
  • 1/2 teaspoon summer savoury (dried)
  • 1/4 teaspoon thyme (dried)
  • 2 tablespoons lemon juice
  • 1 teaspoon grated lemon zest
  • 2 tablespoons olive oil
  • 1/4 cup gluten-free flour
  • 1/4 cup whipping cream OR heavy coconut cream
  • 1/2 cup fresh green peas, or if using frozen, pre-thawed

Directions:

Preheat your oven to 350-375, depending on your oven. Grease a 6-cup deep pie plate/baking dish, or a few individual ramekins, depending on whether you'd like to bake one large pie or several small ones.

Heat the butter/Earth Balance in a large skillet on medium heat, and once it starts to bubble slightly, sautée the leeks for 3-5 minutes, or until the soften and start to look transparent.

Add the stock, herbs, lemon juice, and zest, and bring up to a boil. Add the chicken/tofu and green peas, and bring down the heat to low so that it simmers.

In a small separate saucepan, make a roux out of the olive oil and flour by whisking it together into a paste and cooking it until golden, and then add that into the simmering mixture, using a wooden spoon to combine everything well. Add the cream, and continue to simmer until the mixture starts to look glossy. Remove from heat.



***This is where you get to decide if you're going to make this a 1-crust or 2-crust pie. 1-crust is a good option for someone who wants to cut carbs. I like to make a 2-crust pie to make it a bit heartier. The only difference in preparation is that for a 2-crust version, you'll roll out one of the pastry discs and press it into your pie dish, pierce it slightly with a fork here and there, and pre-bake it for about 8 minutes to firm it up a bit. Then continue with the 1-crust directions as follows:

Pour this mixture into your deep baking dish, or those jaunty little ramekins. Roll out 1 disc of  pastry dough 1/4 inch thick and drape it over the dish. If you find that there's too much pastry hanging down the sides, trim it back a little bit, but leave enough that you can really seal the edges well. You can either freeze this leftover pastry if there's enough to use for something else, or you can cut out decorative shapes for this one and stick them onto your pie with a bit of leftover cream.

Cut a small steam hole in the crust, brush with cream or beaten egg, and bake for 30-40 minutes, or until the pastry turns gold and the inside mixture seems intent on bubbling out from beneath it.

As a side note, as delicious as this is as a pot pie, you don't have to put a crust onto it at all. It's just as gorgeous as a stew served over gnocchi or rice or dumplings or even just on its own. I've even been known to add some stock to it and make it a thick, creamy soup if I'm just making a batch for myself.

My usual suggestion to make it your own holds true: add more (or less) lemon, toss in some diced celery or carrots if you like them, or chopped tarragon, or big handfuls of shredded greens. It will be lovely no matter how you adjust it.


Saturday, 2 July 2016

The Ubiquitous Mr. Jello Mould



There seems to be one particular dish that has made its way to just about every funeral buffet I've ever attended, and that is the jello mould. 

From the mountains of fruit- and marshmallow-filled offerings brought by Mormon neighbours to the creamy coconut jelly I saw quivering at a Buddhist Chinese ceremony, the ubiquitous jelly seems to have infiltrated mourning services worldwide.

Occasionally referred to as a jello salad (for reasons I have yet to sort out, as I tend to see salads as vegetable dishes notably lacking in jiggle), these voluptuous variations had their heyday in the 1950s, and have yet to disappear from mainstream culinary culture. 
Whether it's someone's great aunt who makes the dish that has been her signature fare for the past 60 years, or a hipster who has discovered their parents' novelty cookbooks and has made something for nostalgia's sake, someone will inevitably show up with one of these babies to either the absolute delight or chagrin of everyone in attendance.



I did a recent poll on Facebook to gauge people's reactions to these dishes, and they were pretty much split down the middle as to whether they considered them treats or travesties. 

The ones who were nauseated at the mere thought of eating them shared horror stories about horseradish and cranberry concoctions, or shredded cabbage suspended in orange wibble. In contrast, the fans ululated praise for canned pear slices in lime gelatine, or citrus celebrations of layered yellow and orange packed with pineapple chunks and mandarin slices, respectively.

Personally, I've always associated Jello with being sick, as it was a mainstay in my family's fridge whenever one of us was ill... which was often. 

I suppose that memories such as those can be very comforting to many people, and loath as I am to admit it, it's a food that's fairly easy to knock back when one has a knotted belly or a sore throat.

Since I really can't put together a collection of funerary dishes without including a Jello something-or-other somewhere, I shall share a recipe for a wobbly sangria ring.
Why?
Because quite frankly, both funerals and gelatine desserts are far more tolerable when there's a copious amount of alcohol involved.

Sangria Jello Mould



Ingredients:

  • 2 packages (3 oz each) of strawberry, raspberry, or cherry gelatine powder
  • 3 1/2 cups sparkling white wine OR 1 1/2 cups white wine and 2 cups club soda*
  • 1 cup fresh strawberries, hulled and quartered
  • 1 cup fresh blueberries, checked for stems
  • 1 cup fresh mixed blackberries and raspberries
  • 1/2 cup black, red, or white grapes, halved 

*If you absolutely have to make this alcohol-free, you can swap in a high-quality grape juice instead of the wine. 
I suppose. 

Preparation:

Grease a 6-cup ring mould or bundt pan with cooking spray, and set aside.

Heat wine to boiling in a saucepan, remove from heat, and stir in the gelatine powder. Use a whisk to ensure that all of it dissolves, and then set it aside to cool for about 10 minutes. Refrigerate until it just starts to firm up a little bit: maybe 30-40 minutes at most.

Remove from the fridge and gently fold in all the fruit. Use a spatula to transfer this into your prepared ring mould, taking care to distribute the fruit as evenly as possible. Pop it back into the fridge and cool for at least 6 hours (although overnight is best).

Invert over your serving plate and shake gently to dislodge it. Be sure to cheer heartily when it plops out looking like an exotic, if rather wobbly jewel.



Note: nostalgic food can be great, but only if significant effort is made to make it appeal to modern palates. 

If whatever gelatine thinger you choose to prepare contains meat, celery, cottage cheese, olives, pimentos, tuna, or eggs, you will be shunned by your family members as well as your friends, and you will deserve every moment of it.


Monday, 27 June 2016

A Glorious Mess O'Greens



Leafy green vegetables don't normally spring to mind when most people think of comfort food, but ohhh, they can be. Silken and buttery, deeply braised greens have a wonderful earthy flavour with a slight sweetness that's amplified by the garlic with which they're cooked. 

Folks in the Southern States have elevated the simple art of braising leafy greens to an art form, and I had the pleasure of sampling this gorgeous dish while on a road trip through that region. My memory is a bit fuzzy, but I remember one little restaurant somewhere in North Carolina in which I tried slow-cooked greens for the first time. 

I can't even remember what they were served alongside (maybe it was some kind of baked macaroni dish?), but the vegetables were absolute poetry. That dish was a lot oinkier than the one I make, being full of pork hock and bacon and such, but I've found that I prefer a vegetarian version—if I'd like to evoke a bit of that Southern flavour, I just add a few drops of hickory smoke to the cooking liquid.

You can use any leafy green for braising, but it's really best for the more robust vegetables that need a fair bit of time to break down. Some people like to use just one type of green at a time, like collards, but I like to use at least three different types to create interesting flavour profiles. 

The beautiful mess o'greens simmering in my mini crock pot in the photo above contained a mixture of kale, collards, radish and turnip greens, and green bok choy.
The key really is to slow-braise them until they break down to a beautiful creamy texture. As far as I'm concerned, this dish is done when the vegetables fall apart if you so much as look sternly in their direction.

Braised Greens




Ingredients:

  • A few large handfuls of assorted greens (approximately 1 1/2 pounds' worth, if you're weighing them)
  • Olive oil
  • Butter or Earth Balance
  • Garlic (I mince 3 or 4 cloves, but as many or as few can be used as you like)
  • Lemon
  • Good salt
  • Pepper
  • Vegetable stock




Preparation:

Although some people swear by blanching their greens in a pot of water before slow-braising them, I take an easier route: I just toss the greens into a large colander and pour a kettle's worth of boiling water over them, then spray them down with cold water. Easy peasy. 

Those then get chopped very finely (chiffonade! great word, and lovely ribbon effect) and set aside. Pour a few generous glugs of olive oil into a large pan or wok, as well as a spoonful or so of butter or Earth Balance margarine. 

Warm this on medium-high heat, and then add minced or crushed garlic and your chopped greens as well as a few pinches of salt and toss all of that around together for a couple of minutes.

If you're using a crock pot, this is the point at which you'd transfer everything from the pan into the pot, add a couple of splashes of vegetable stock, and cook it on low heat for about two hours. 

If you're using the pan method, just add a bit of stock, cover with a lid, turn the heat down low, and let it braise for an hour, stirring occasionally.

Once it has cooked down to a soft, slurpy mass, splash a little bit of lemon juice into it and adjust salt to taste. If the greens end up being a little wetter than you'd like, let them strain in a colander for 10 minutes or so. The leftover liquid can be frozen and added to the next batch of soup stock you make.

I like to just eat this on its own, but it's also lovely served over gnocchi or even scooped up with toast. I'm adding this dish to my list of funeral recipes not only because they're a great respite to the mountain of heavy carbs that inevitably make it into care dinners, but also because they are absolutely delicious... and great food does wonders for lifting one's spirits. 

Besides, since cooking these vegetables makes them easier to digest, their nutrient value goes up significantly: the vitamin A, calcium, and magnesium in cooked collards, mustard greens, etc. are great for strengthening a weakened immune system and building up new strength.

If you're preparing this dish as part of a meal train for someone who has suffered a loss, you can always present it in a mason jar decorated with a cloth top of some sort, or even a pretty microwave-safe dish that has a lid on it. Presentation is important even if it's just being dropped off, neh?

<3

Friday, 24 June 2016

A Nod to Quebecois Cuisine: Meatballs, but Sans Cloves



Today is Saint Jean Baptiste day here in Quebec (Fête de la Saint-Jean-Baptiste), and is the biggest annual holiday celebration in the province. Coinciding with Midsummer, it was a huge festival in France from the 15th century onwards, and the traditions from that lovely country were brought over by settlers who began celebrating it here in the early 1600s. In honour of all things Quebecois, today's recipe honours a staple of our province's cuisine: les boulettes (meatballs).

Meatballs often make it to funeral buffet tables as they're bite-sized little protein bursts as well as delicious comfort foods; they fortify even as they satiate. The ones I've come across at family gatherings usually have a Swedish or Ukrainian lean, with lingonberry sauce served with the former and sour cream with the latter.

My variation on these delicious niblets differs from standard Quebecois fare, as I cannot warm up to the spices used in the traditional recipe: allspice, cinnamon, and cloves are the key spices used in tourtiere, creton, and the usual ragoût de boulettes (meat pie, pork pate, and meatball stew, respectively), but I can't wrap my head around using those spices for savoury dishes outside of Moroccan or Indian cuisine.

To me, they'll always be associated with mulled wine and gingerbread. If you'd like to use those spices to make it truly traditional, you can find an original recipe here. I've gone with French herbs and flavours instead, but do play around with seasonings to make it your own.

As an example, I like to add chopped olives or capers to mine, while others might mix in chopped bacon, shredded cheese, or even mushrooms.


Most of the meatball recipes I've come across use breadcrumbs or wheat flour as a binding agent, but this is an AIP paleo version using just a whisper of tapioca starch for that purpose.

I'm skipping a vegetarian/vegan version of this recipe because there aren't any meat substitutions for these that won't poison me (like seitan...), and as such I can't vouch for how they might turn out.


Ingredients:

  • 1 lb ground beef, pork, turkey, or chicken
  • 1/2 of a small Spanish onion, minced
  • 2-3 garlic cloves, crushed or minced finely
  • 1/2 cup of flat-leaf (Italian) parsley, chopped finely
  • 1 teaspoon dried thyme, crumbled
  • 1/2 teaspoon dried summer savoury, crumbled
  • 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano, crumbled
  • 1 teaspoon tapioca starch




Preparation:

Combine all of the ingredients well in a large mixing bowl, and refrigerate for an hour. 

Preheat your oven to 400 degrees (or 375 if your oven runs hot). Measure out tablespoon-sized portions of the mixture and roll into meatballs, placing them on a parchment-lined baking sheet or greased glass baking dish as they're formed.


Bake for 25-30 minutes, or until they're no longer pink in the centre when you cut into them.



Traditional boulettes are served in a thick brown sauce, but if you're making a large batch of these for a memorial gathering, it's generally best to skip the gravy because someone will inevitably end up wearing it.

If you'd like to create a sauce of some kind that folks can spoon over the meatballs, persillade is a light, refreshing option made with fresh parsley and vinegar that's very easy to make, or you can also make tzatziki which, although not French, is rather gorgeous and one of my favourite dips:


Ingredients:

  • 1 tablespoon olive oil
  • 2 tablespoons lemon juice
  • 2 garlic cloves, crushed
  • 1 cup plain yogurt (coconut yogurt for AIP paleo, dairy or soy otherwise)
  • 1 cup cucumber, peeled and either grated or minced
  • 1 tablespoon fresh dill, chopped finely
  • Sea salt


Preparation:

Combine all of the ingredients in a food processor, or just whisk them together in a mixing bowl. Season with salt to taste, and refrigerate for a couple of hours before serving. If you use coconut or soy yogurt, it can stay out at room temperature safely for hours.


Wednesday, 15 June 2016

Mujadara-Stuffed Cabbage Rolls



If you haven't yet eaten mujadara, I'd suggest that you remedy that as soon as possible. It's a very simple dish, considered "peasant food" throughout the Middle East, but it's incredibly flavourful and filling and packed with protein from all the lentils. I once had a large bowl left over after a rather sizeable get-together, and used it to stuff cabbage rolls on a whim. Let's just say that it's one of my better impromptu culinary experiments, and one that I'm happy to share here.

During a time of mourning or shock, it's amazingly helpful to have food that can be prepared quickly and easily, and cabbage rolls fit that bill perfectly: they freeze well, and can be microwaved to readiness in just a couple of minutes, so a baking dish full of them can provide a good week's worth of meals.

This is a vegan recipe, and uses a tomato sauce that's spiced with cumin. The nightshade-free, AIP paleo version follows at the end of this post.

Prepping the Cabbage:

My Ukrainian grandmother used to boil heads of cabbage to make her rolls, but although that leaves you with a very fragrant stock that you can use for other recipes, it also makes your house stink of cabbage water for days, and the leaves get very fragile and break apart easily when you try to fill them. I now use the freezer technique instead, and can't recommend it highly enough:
You'll core your head of cabbage, then place it into a plastic bag and pop it into the freezer for 48 hours. It really needs to freeze solidly right to the center in order for the leaves to break down, and then you'll thaw it for a full day on your countertop before you can make the rolls. Needless to say, this is a dish that needs a few days' worth of advance thought and prep time, but is well worth the wait.

Once thawed, the leaves will peel away very easily, and you can drape them over a bowl or stack them in a strainer until you're ready to work with them. To fill them, first pick up one leaf and drape it right-side-downward over a bowl so its thick spine is facing upward. Take a small knife and pare down the spine so that it's almost as thin as the surrounding leaf: this will allow you to roll it much more easily, and will also help with cooking consistency.

NOTE: You will undoubtedly end up with some broken leaves here and there, and that's a good thing—you can use bits of these to patch minor tears inside some of the leaves you work with, and you can also drape them over the rolls before baking so they don't scorch/dry out.


Mujadara Filling Ingredients:
  • 1 large can of lentils, drained and rinsed
  • 4 cups water
  • 2 large Spanish onions (or more if you’d like this really onion-y)
  • 2 cups cooked long-grain rice (Basmati works well)
  • Olive oil
  • Salt
Preparation:

Heat the oil in large pan on medium-high heat, and add your onions. Bring the heat down a bit and caramelise them until they’re a deep, dark brown.

In a large bowl, combine your cooked rice, drained lentils, and browned onions. Season with salt and pepper and try not to eat the entire bowl by yourself.

Set this aside and allow it to cool before using it to fill your rolls.

Tomato Sauce:

This is a bit of an easy way out here, as the sauce you bake these in is really up to you. We tend to make big batches of basic sauce (just crushed tomatoes, onions, garlic, wine, tomato paste, and salt) and then freeze them for future use—once defrosted, the sauce can be augmented with various seasonings to suit the dish it's being added to.

For these Middle Eastern cabbage rolls, I add a bit of ground cumin, additional garlic powder, and a pinch each of sumac and chili pepper to a basic sauce so the seasonings are complementary. You can use canned pureed tomatoes and just doctor them a little bit until they taste right to you, or use a store-bought prepared sauce. It's your call.

Making the Rolls




Preheat your oven to 350F.

Take one of the cabbage leaves and cup it in the palm of your hand so that its base lines up with your wrist. Place a generous spoonful of filling about an inch inside, then roll the leaf: you'll start by folding the base inwards, then tucking in the sides as you continue rolling upwards.

Line a greased baking dish or lasagna pan with a few of the leftover leaves, and arrange the rolls on top of them as you finish rolling them. Once they're all in, pour your tomato sauce over the rolls until they're all just covered. If you have additional cabbage leaves left over, drape them over the rolls so they don't burn. If not, just add a little bit more sauce.



Cover the dish with aluminum foil, seal it as tightly as you can, and bake for 1 1/2 hours, or until the cabbage has cooked to a buttery softness: your knife should slide through it without much effort at all.

If you're serving these immediately, use a spatula and spoon to remove them gently, and serve hot. If you're going to be delivering them as comfort food, leave the rolls in the pan and allow them to cool completely before transporting them. Alternatively, you can also transfer them to a microwave-safe dish that the recipient can reheat easily.



AIP Paleo Variation:

For those of us who can't eat grains or legumes (...sigh...), these rolls can be stuffed with a variety of different fillings that are friendly to our individual food sensitivities. I often stuff mine with seasoned ground meat and riced cauliflower, or I make a version that the Sir and I can both eat by mixing the cauliflower with finely chopped roasted root vegetables. 

For the sake of simplicity and keeping things vegan for this post, I'll share the roasted root vegetable filling version here. It's based on a recipe from the Traditional Ukrainian Cookery book, which my mother passed on to me now that she refuses to cook anymore and only eats pre-packaged hors d'oeuvres. Win-win!

Filling:
  • 1 head of cauliflower, cut into florets and pre-roasted*
  • 2-3 cups chopped, pre-roasted root vegetables*
  • 1 medium onion, finely chopped
  • 2 tablespoons olive or coconut oil
  • 1 teaspoon onion powder
  • A pinch of dried thyme
  • Salt
  • Pepper
*Prep these ingredients by tossing them with olive oil, garlic powder, and salt, and roasting them in a 350F onion for 40-60 minutes, or until they're fork-tender and browned. Once they've cooled, either chop them very finely or pulse briefly on low in a food processor.

Heat the oil in a large pan or shallow pot, and then sautee the onion until translucent and slightly golden.
Combine the onion with your root veg and cauliflower mixture in a large bowl, season with salt and pepper, and allow to cool before stuffing your rolls.

Nightshade-Free Sauce:

Since nightshade vegetables are huge autoimmune triggers, those of us who follow the AIP diet have to be a bit creative with tomato substitutions. My go-to sauce for pasta, lasagna, and these cabbage rolls has a pumpkin puree base, and works remarkably well in lieu of tomato.
  • 2-3 tablespoons olive oil
  • 1 medium onion, diced
  • 3-4 garlic cloves, minced or pressed
  • 1 teaspoon Italian seasoning OR 1/4 teaspoon each dried thyme, oregano, basil, and parsley
  • 1 cup carrots, chopped
  • 2-3 canned beets, chopped
  • 1 large can pumpkin or squash puree
  • 1 cup red wine (make it a good wine: if you wouldn’t drink it, don’t cook with it)
  • 1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
  • Honey
  • Vegetable, chicken, or beef stock if desired
  • Salt
  • Pepper
Heat the olive oil in a stock pot on medium-high heat, and toss in the onion and carrots. Sprinkle them with the dried herbs and toss them around a bit, then just stir them occasionally and allow them to keep cooking until the onions go translucent and the carrot softens a fair bit.

Add the garlic and beets, stir around for a few minutes more, then add the pumpkin puree, wine, and balsamic vinegar. Let this mixture simmer on medium-low heat until the flavours have combined and the carrots are fork-tender.

Now for the adjustments: if you find that the sauce is too thick, add a little bit of stock, 1/4 cup at a time, until it's thin enough for your tastes. Remember that you're aiming for sauce, not soup.
If it's too acidic or sour, add 1 tsp of honey. 

Season it with salt and pepper to taste, and then either use an immersion blender to puree it all into a homogenous consistency, or put it through a regular blender or food processor.

You can keep this sauce in a jar in the fridge for up to a week, and use it for the cabbage rolls, or lasagna, or in a baked pasta dish, etc. I like to make a double batch and freeze it for future use, so keep that option in mind as well.

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