Your Vegan Mom

Roasted Cauliflower

 

Totally addicting bar snack or nutritious side dish?  You decide.  I am completely fine with it being both.  Incidentally, Desmond loves this as much as Paul and I do.  We tend to eat it with our fingers before dinner.   

Roasted Cauliflower

• 1 medium head cauliflower
• about 2 tablespoons canola oil
• about 1/2 teaspoon garam masala
• about 1/2 teaspoon salt
• about 1 tablespoon minced fresh cilantro (optional)

Heat the oven to 400.  Trim the cauliflower into medium florets.  Spread out on a rimmed baking sheet.  Drizzle with oil.  Sprinkle with garam masala and salt.  Mix it around with a spatula to evenly distribute the seasonings.  Roast for about 45 minutes, until well browned in spots.  Toss with fresh cilantro if you like - it looks pretty and adds a nice fresh note, but it is equally delicious without.    

12 Days of Thanksgiving: Mashed Potatoes

 

Do you know this already?  Mashed potatoes aren't hard.  Really, the only labor intensive bit is peeling the potatoes.  So as far as I see it, you have two options.  1) Don't do it.  Especially if you use yukon golds that have a relatively delicate skin, and wonderfully buttery flesh, I don't mind the skin in there at all.  Or 2)Get somebody else to do it.  If it's just me in the kitchen on any given Tuesday, I'll leave the skins on, but if it's one of them big ol' family holidays with a whole bunch of idle hands, well then heck, get somebody peeling, and you can have smooth holiday potatoes.  

Basic Mashed Potatoes

serves 4

• 1 1/2 pounds potatoes (I really like mashed yukon golds, but russets are the classic mashing potato.) 
• 1/2 cup soy milk
• 1 - 2 tablespoons vegan butter
• salt to taste

Scrub the potatoes clean, and dice them into about 1-inch chunks.  (Or if you insist, peel them first.)  Put them in a saucepan (or a big old pot if you're multiplying and cooking for a crowd).  Cover them with cold water by an inch or two.  Bring them to a boil.  Turn down the heat and simmer for about 15 minutes, or until a fork slips effortlessly into one of your chunks.  Drain.  Heat the milk and butter in a glass measuring cup in the microwave until the butter is melted.  Return the potatoes to the pan.  Toss them around on the heat to dry them out.  Drizzle in the hot milk and butter, and mash with a potato masher.  You might not need all of the milk and butter, stop when you're happy with the texture.  Season with salt to taste. 

12 Days of Thanksgiving: The Quick-Style Feast

Say you're not the sort of person that has spent months pouring over food magazines, cookbooks, and blogs deciding on the perfect Thanksgiving recipes.  Say you haven't been using your free time this past month polishing silver and labeling serving dishes.  You probably aren't hosting a big group.  Maybe it's just you, or you two, or at most you and three pals.  Do you have a couple hours?  You can still have a Thanksgiving feast.  You can even have pie.  Here's the plan:  

1. Start with the pie.  It will take you 5 - 10 minutes to get Susan V's crustless pumpkin pie in the oven.  I do not recommend fat free recipes lightly.  If this weren't objectively delicious, we would not be having this discussion.  (But don't use sweet rice flour.  All-purpose will be just fine if you don't have regular rice flour.) 
2. With your pie in the oven, it's time to defrost your Tofurky.  I know the package says that you're screwed.  That you should have planned ahead.  But that's just not true.  Fill a bowl with hot water.  Put your plastic-wrapped roast in a second plastic bag (So it will be water-proof).  Let it sit in the hot water while your pie bakes.  
3. Prepare your vegetables.  You're going to roast them with your tofurky.  They'll be in the oven for almost an hour and a half, so cut them into biggish chunks.  For Desmond, Paul, and I, I used a couple russet potatoes, a sweet potato, an onion, and a dozen brussels sprouts.  The brussels sprouts wouldn't fit in the pan, so I cooked them seperately.  Then, I figured that as long as I was cooking them seperately, I'd go ahead and do them a tiny bit different.  I tossed them with olive oil, salt, and three whole cloves of garlic.  So you do that too if you want, or if they'll all fit in your tofurky pan, just set them all aside now to nestle around your roast when the time comes.
4. Change the tofurky defrosting water periodically - keep it hot.  
5. Whisk together whatever you're going to use to baste your tofurky - I like the olive oil, soy sauce, and sage combo. 
6. When the pie's almost done, take your tofurky out of the plastic covering, put it into the roasting dish, surround it with your vegetables, and pour over half of your basting liquid.
7. Take the pie out of the oven and put the tofurky and vegetables in.
8. Set your timer.  You have an hour and fifteen minutes to relax, set the table, open up the cranberry sauce (We're doing this quick-style, canned cranberry will be just fine), sit on the couch and have an aperitif, heat up the gravy, play a round of scrabble, write a blog entry.  Actually this super-relaxed, easy-to-prepare feast is seriously sounding like the way to go.  

Bon appetit!

Your quick-style shopping list:

• tofurky roast with gravy (They're $9.99 at Trader Joe's.  Oh and they're already defrosted there, I think.)
• 1 can cranberry sauce (I prefer jellied.)
• Some good roasting vegetables, but this is also a good chance to clean out the fridge and pantry.  Use what you have.  Or buy whatever root vegetables strike your fancy.  And a little green is nice too.  Green beans and brussels sprouts both roast very nicely.  
• 1 15-oz. can of pumpkin
• a bottle of wine would be nice
• check on some pantry staples: soy sauce, olive oil, sage, corn starch, egg replacer, soy milk, pumpkin pie type spices

12 Days of Thanksgiving: Sweet Potato Puffs

My mother-in-law is famous for her bourbon yams.  Amongst the Bierys, the boozy sweet marshmallow topped sweet potato casserole just says Thanksgiving.  

The Jaconis don't have a requisite sweet potato dish.  (My mom can't have Thanksgiving without sweet pickles and olives.)  But one year, circa 1985, my mom made a casserole topped with corn flakes and pecans that I've been thinking about ever since.  She, on the other hand, has no memory of this and cannot reproduce the recipe.  

Fortunately, it finally occurred to me last week to turn to the Internet.  And now I know that everybody makes a corn flake and pecan topped sweet potato casserole.  There are 33 variations on this cooking site alone.  

So armed with about 52 slightly different recipes, I set about to marry the two family casseroles.  I took the bourbon from Cecile's dish and added the corn flakes and pecans from my mom's mythical casserole, cut way back on the sugar that they both called for, and wound up with a thoroughly ho-hum amalgam of the two.

Then I scrapped the whole idea, considered not having any sweet potatoes at all.  Perhaps ever again.  (Though I'm already thinking about a simple savory gratin for next year.  Creamy.  With thyme.  And maybe roasted garlic?)

But in my search for the perfect casserole, I came across a perfectly kooky dish that is just such an unlikely marriage of our two family traditions, that I couldn't pass it up.  

Sweet Potato Balls (in Mrs. Olive Brown's recipe from Talk About Good!  The cookbook of the Junior League of Lafayette, Lousiana) or Sweet Potato Puffs (according Mary Birchard of the La Canada Presbyterian Church Cruiser Club).  They are essentially the same recipe - a ball of sweet potato puree with a marshmallow smooshed inside and the whole thing coated in corn flakes.  

Perfect.  And I seriously hope that this is not what my boys pine for.  

Sweet Potato Puffs

Makes 12 puffs

• 1 cup sweet potato puree
• 2 tablespoons vegan butter
• 2 tablespoons brown sugar
• 1 tablespoon corn starch
• 1 tablespoon soy milk
• 1/4 cup flour
• a pinch of nutmeg
• 6 marshmallows, cut in half (You can buy Dandies at Locali.)
• about 1 cup crushed corn flakes

Cream together the butter, sugar, corn starch, and soy milk.  Add the sweet potato puree, flour, and nutmeg.  Beat until well combined.  Chill for about an hour.  

Heat the oven to 450 and grease a baking sheet.  Place the crushed corn flakes on a plate.  Spoon about a tablespoon of the sweet potato mixture out onto the corn flakes.  Press a marshmallow half into the center of the sweet potato blob.  Gently scootch some of the surrounding corn flakes up the sides of the sweet potato blob, push the marshmallow down a little more, and scootch the corn flake covered sweet potato to cover the top. You should now have a nice little ball of corn flake covered sweet potato with a marshmallow hidden in the middle.  Place on the prepared cookie sheet and repeat with rest of the ingredients.  Spray the tops with a quick mist of cooking spray, and bake for 10 minutes.  

Today, obviously, I'm thankful for the moms.  

12 Days of Thanksgiving: Roasted Brussels Sprouts and Beets with Maple Dijon Vinaigrette

 

I love this salad, or side dish, or whatever you want to call it.  It's perfect for Thanksgiving because you can make it ahead of time and serve it at room temperature, but it's good pretty straight from the oven too.  Plus it makes a lovely cold accompaniment to your day after sandwich.  

I need to add, though I'm certain that you already know this, that if you or anybody you know thinks brussels sprouts are gross it's because you haven't had them roasted.  The outer leaves get crispy and browned in the hot oven, the center gets tender, and they have a mellow sweet-bitter flavor that is wonderful with the earthiness of the beets and the slightly sharp maple mustard dressing.  Good, good stuff.   

Roasted Brussels Sprouts and Beets with Maple Dijon Vinaigrette

Serves 4 - 6

• 1 pound brussels sprouts
• 2 large beets
• olive oil, salt, and pepper
• 1/2 cup toasted walnut pieces
• vinaigrette: 
  • 1 medium shallot, roasted 
  • 2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
  • 4 tablespoons olive oil
  • 1 tablespoon maple syrup
  • 1 tablespoon dijon mustard
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt

Heat the oven to 400.  Cut large brussels sprouts in half, and trim any tough stems.  Peel and cut the beets into biggish chunks (about an inch).  Peel the shallot.  On a rimmed baking sheet, toss with a drizzle of olive oil and a pinch of salt and pepper.  Roast for 30 to 35 minutes, until the vegetables are tender and nicely browned.

Remove from the oven and let cool while you prepare the vinaigrette.  Roughly chop the shallot and throw it and the other ingredients for the vinaigrette into the blender.  Puree until smooth.  In a medium bowl, toss the vinaigrette with the brussels sprouts, beets, and walnuts.  Taste for salt and pepper, and serve.  Can be prepared up to two days ahead of time. 

Today I am thankful for my neighborhood.  Incredibly rare for Los Angeles, I can walk to just about everything I need - Desmond's pre-school, the dreamiest park (where we took that picnic to yesterday), a great library with a children's story time, a weekly farmers market, Trader Joes, the post office, a train stop, and really nice people.  I am so lucky.  

Mark Bittman's Spaghetti with Broccoli Rabe

I feel my cooking mojo coming back.  After the nausea of the first trimester which lingered into the beginning of the second with stomach-turning sensitivity to delicious smells like garlic and onions and then just plain exhaustion for a couple weeks (There's all sorts of crazy stuff going on in there like the formation of extruding ears!  I think if your body is producing a brand new pair of ears, you deserve to sit on the couch and order takeout.), I am now ready to return to the kitchen, and for more than just inoffensive sweet stuff.  

Just last Saturday, I sauteed onions, and then I did it again on Sunday.  Last night I toasted garlic to make this pasta for dinner.  By the way, when I'm making a really simple pasta like that, the sort that usually calls for parmesan cheese, I mix in a bit of the salty pasta water and a scoop or two of nutritional yeast to give the minimal sauce a bit of body and nutritional heft.  And of course, taste for salt, because that parmesan you left out is salty.  And then it's nice to serve your pasta with a wedge of lemon if you have it laying around.  It looks pretty and gives a simple dish like this that little something it might be missing.  

I always enjoy Mark Bittman's Minimalist column (and Desmond's a fan of his short cooking videos) for simple meal ideas, but lately they've been particularly vegan-friendly or at least easily adaptable. Plus, his quick and creative recipes are a really good way to motivate my big fat teetering baby steps towards the stove.  

Peanut Butter Fondue Party

Everything that I have been cooking, and eating, and thinking about is all wrong.  I have no pumpkin for you.  No sweet potatoes.  No cranberries.  Not even a green bean casserole.  

I have peanut sauce.  But here’s what makes it special, here’s what elevates it to worthy of the week of Thanksgiving: the fondue pot.  Simply pouring the rich spicy sauce into that crazy apparatus from the back of your cupboard transforms an otherwise humble and shockingly simple mid-week meal into a gathering, a way to involve your kids or your pals in dinner, a party.    

Back in our first married apartment, sitting at my grandma’s stylish-again dining table, Paul and I huddled over the tiny flame underneath our new white ceramic pot filled with warm peanut sauce, and talked about what a fun meal this would make for kids.  While not many of the starry-eyed ideals one has about parenting really work in the brutal world of parking lot tantrums and emergency snacks that you never imagined would pass your precious child’s lips, this one was spot on.  The peanut butter fondue party does in fact make a great family meal.  

Peanut Sauce for Fondue Pot

If you are using unsalted peanut butter, you will probably want a touch more soy sauce.  I measured and wrote this down for you.  I never measure when I make a sauce like this - you just want a balance of salty, sweet, sour, spicy, and that warm savory flavor that the peanut butter and sesame oil adds to the game.  So adjust to your liking, if it's too salty, add more sweet and/ or sour and vice versa.  If it's too spicy, add a little more everything, so it's really much easier to start with little bits of spicy.  On a similar note, if you don't have these exact ingredients, this sauce is endlessly malleable.  Sometimes I use lime juice instead of vinegar and fresh chiles instead of the paste, and coconut milk instead of sesame oil, and sugar instead of agave nectar.  I just always think of those 5 essential flavors.  This is really just a rough outline for you to play with.  Have fun.  

1/4 c. salted crunchy peanut butter
1 T. soy sauce
2 T. rice vinegar
1/2 t. chile garlic paste
1 T. agave nectar
1 t. sesame oil

2 T. hot water

Place all ingredients in a smallish bowl or glass measuring cup and stir until smooth.  Pour in fondue pot.

Serve with quick pan seared broccoli and tofu and bowls of brown rice, or whatever would be improved by a dip in peanut sauce, and really what wouldn't?  

Yield: This makes enough sauce for our little family of two grownups and one momentarily (crosses fingers) finicky toddler.   Speaking of which, if you're making this for children, you might want to cut down or omit the spicy.    

Black Bean Quesadillas

Phew.  Despite that beautiful California bounty that I had to work with, the theme of last week's eating was survival.  The day that I brought home all those vegetables?  We got take-out.  Bad take-out from the Burrito Factory across the street. 

Last week was tough, for pretty dumb reasons.  The kid's crib was recalled; I, of course, flipped out, ignored the advice of every expert on the subject (parents, internet authorities, published authors, strangers in the super market, my mom) and introduced my 20 month-old to his new "big boy bed" (known to you and me as the crib mattress on the floor).

So the rest of the week was a comedic charade of putting the boy to bed, listening to him getting up to play, putting him back to bed, etc.  While some sleeping in the bed did occur, all at night, none during the day, it was not nearly enough and it was poorly done.  Poor dear was clearly not ready for the bed.  Sometimes I would come in to find him asleep on the floor using the bed as an excessively large pillow.  Other times he'd be curled up at the foot like a puppy.  Just not ready.  

So on Saturday we threw in the towel, dusted off the pack n play, and everybody in the house set to the task of getting caught up on sleep.  It was glorious. 

Apart from those sub-par take-out burritos, what we ate last week was simple, simple sustenance.  For the most part that meant quesadillas, but you know sin queso.  In our house it goes something like this:

1. Heat up the small cast iron grill over medium heat. 

2. Slap on a tortilla.

3. Spread refried beans over half.

4. Fold tortilla in half over beans.

5. Cook till lightly golden and crispy on both sides.

6. Eat with avocado and hot sauce.  

Also with all our quesadilla consuming last week, I discovered that I can, without any adult or child balking, add finely shredded raw vegetables to the beans for maximum nutritive value.  This helps me feel better about serving this to my family, um, every day for a week.  

Fried Okra

I don't have much experience with okra. There was a plate of ho-hum fried stuff at a ferry launch in one of the Carolinas a few summers ago. And a revelatory, fresh, crisp, spicy dish that I confidently ordered for Paul in an Indian restaurant in London after I pretended that I totally understood the menu (The Hindi words for eggplant and okra are pretty similar right? Maybe they both have b's?). But I had certainly never cooked it myself until last week. After Autumn from Mississippi assured me that it was perfectly respectable for me to start buying okra now, I brought some home from the farmers market on Saturday.  And they are so pretty.  The boy kept stealing raw slices off the plate.  And actually, they're not bad this way.  Does anybody here... maybe sliver them in salads?  Any raw okra experience in the house?  

While I am looking forward to trying Damon Lee Fowler's recipe for whole baby okra in olive oil that he assures me will convert any avowed okra detractors, and Autumn tells me that stewing them babies with tomatoes is the best way, I didn't have the tiny specimens that Mr. Fowler's recipe calls for, nor the tomatoes to go Autumn's route, so we fried them.

And this is certainly not a bad way to go. Really, coat anything in corn meal, pan fry it, and it's going to be good. Also, I really like how the natural glue that oozes from cut okra is put to good use in adhering corn meal to itself. Cool. We used this incredibly simple recipe.

Natchitoches, LA

About an hour south of here, the Cane River Green Market opened for the season in April. On the gloomy day that we visited it was all onions and greens, but I can only imagine what they have now. All of a sudden, spring is coming on so quickly. Oh, and that's nack-uh-tish to those of you that aren't blessed with a mama-in-law from these parts.