It's Valentine's Day next Tuesday, and that, of course, means that you need to know how to make sweet potato tots. Can you think of a better way to show your love than with the delicate crunch of fried potato giving way to its sweet and creamy insides as it's dipped into a cool and smoky sauce - each nugget lovingly shaped between your fingers rather than shaken out of the freezer bag? Homemade tater tots? That's love, man.
I took an informal poll recently of a few friends and family members gathered around the table. The results surprised me. So I'm putting the question to you a bit more guardedly. My expectations are lowered, but still I have to ask -
When you were a kid, were you pretty sure you could fly if you just ran fast enough or really, really tried?
To recap, for Thanksgiving 2011, so far we have made a 2-pound hunk of seitan that will become your Thanksgiving roast and, more importantly, the protein bit in your post-Thanksgiving sandwich. At the same time, we made about 6 cups of tasty broth to use in your stuffing and gravy. We made the gravy - cashew mushroom to be precise, and it's delicious. Now, with Thanksgiving just two days away, it's time to talk about how you're going to serve the seitan.
Just like a tofurky from the store, you can surround it with any vegetables that you like roasted for an hour. The roots are classics here. You could not go wrong with a combination of potatoes, onions, parsnips, and carrots. But if you're having mashed potatoes as well (and you are, aren't you?), well then this classic combo might feel a bit redundant.
I wanted something green and bright, but that could withstand all that cooking.
I turned to my old pal, kale, and he did not let me down.
Continue reading "Roasted Kale and How to Dress Your Seitan" »
Nine years ago this December, Paul and I got married. After the stress of fabricating the most perfect day in our entire lives, I didn't care where we went on our honeymoon as long as it was warm and we could lounge. We settled on Montreal. In December.
I can't remember precisely how we settled on Montreal. In December. But I had always wanted to go there, and we have an irritating tendency to do the opposite of what everyone else is doing even when they are right.
So we went to Montreal. In December. And everyone there was eating poutine - a snacky, regional specialty of fries slathered in cheese curds and brown sauce. And we wanted in. So on one of our last days in the city, in a movie theater no less, Paul asked the French Canadian in charge, "Could we get an order of poutine without meat or cheese?" With a mixture of French Canadian bewilderment and disdain, the concessionaire told Paul, "It is made of meat. It is meat sauce."
Unsatiated, I've had a niggling desire for poutine for the last nine years... until Bryanna Clark Grogan's new cookbook, World Vegan Feast
Continue reading "Around the World with Bryanna Clark Grogan" »
So, the vision in my right eye is blurred. It's a total drag, and it's putting a serious damper on my ability to spend the entire month of October swimming in vegan food on the internet as is traditional. I'm getting over iritis, but I prefer to think of it as maternal guilt beaming like a red light from my eyeball.
Paul and I just got back from a 10 day vacation. Ten days. Paul and I. Without the children.
My pals, Christina and Lorenzo, got married in Saint Lucia and, of course, you know, it's just not good manners to miss a wedding, so we made it happen. The kids divided their time between two sets of grandparents and I think they may have had even more fun than we did.
We lounged on the beach and lazily floated in crystal blue salt water; they visited two light houses, a museum, an aquarium, and the mall. We sipped rum based cocktails; they drank straight juice (not even cut down with water). We tasted dasheen and fresh turmeric and snake gourd and tiny sour plums and starfruit and pizza topped with curried lentils; the boys had candy and snow cones and frozen yogurt (Menchie's always has two non-dairy flavors). They skipped naps; we slept till noon. We climbed a mountain; they played soccer with Grandpa. We danced in the street to party anthems pulsing from a loudspeaker on the back of a pickup truck; they snuggled on Grandma's lap and rocked to sleep.
We're all still recovering.
And so now, to overcompensate for abandoning my children for ten (10.) days, I'm feeding them. I've made cookies and rice pudding and pumpkin waffles and oatmeal chocolate chip pancakes and the macaroni that they like that I haven't told you about yet and too many robot milk shakes to count. After dinner I'm making tapiocy pudding (that's how Desmond pronounced it when he was three) and granola and crackers for tomorrow. And I've got two batches of their favorite nuggets in the freezer.
I developed this recipe about a year ago after coveting similar, but egg-bound, not to mention expensive, products in the freezer section at Whole Foods. I just love the idea of packing a nugget with vegetables. And these nuggets have it all - beans, whole grains, both green and orange vegetables, and a little good fat from sunflower seeds. They're really a complete meal nugget to assuage my maternal guilt. For this one meal at least, they have everything they need.
Veggie Nuggets
Like big tater tots with nutritional merit, these are totally meant to be dipped in ketchup.
Makes: about 50 nuggets
Takes: about 45 minutes (15 active)
In the bowl of your food processor, chop up the spinach, onion, garlic, and sunflower seeds to a chunky paste. Add the rest of the ingredients to the bowl and process until you have a cohesive dough. It should not be completely smooth - some textural variety is nice.
Pour panko out into a shallow bowl or pie plate. Scoop rounded tablespoons of the vegetable mixture into the waiting panko. Move it around to cover the ball with crumbs and then flatten it into a nugget shape between your palms.
Arrange on ungreased cookie sheets and bake for 30 minutes at 350, flipping your nuggets halfway through baking.
Serve straight from the oven, or better yet, let cool, then freeze for later. Panfry frozen nuggets in a little oil over medium-low heat for about 3 minutes per side.
