The proper way to say goodbye to Borders

A show of my going-out-of-business sale patronage:

Admittedly, this is a fashionably late post and not a very thorough or interesting one, until you realize that this stack of books filled a very long bookshelf and took this apartment over 800 adult-level books (We don't count the literature of the youngster).

I'm teaching a class I've never taught before, so productivity in the blogosphere has taken a nosedive. For this, my apologies.

Improvising in the kitchen (with NYC black and whites)

I decided it was time. I had managed to secure the required lemon and orange zest, and I was finally going to make New York City Black and White cookies, Vegan-style, with the help of that awesome cookbook-find, "Vegan Cookies Invade Your Cookie Jar." As I assembled my ingredients, I realized the horrible truth.

I was out of soy milk.

No worries though. I'm not a vegan (or a strick vegetarian, considering my fish-eating and love of Jell-O... don't judge). What I did have was skim cow's milk. I'm not a big fan of milk (it just tastes bad), though I am in love with such diary products as ice cream, cheese, and yogurt. However, I don't live alone and my boys, they love milk, so we usually have some on hand. No big deal. I just made the substitution, and my vegan black and whites became not-vegan, just like that.

Did the world end? Hardly. I admit to feeling a bit guilty for changing the recipe, but then I had the thought: why? One of the things I love about this particular cookie cookbook is it doesn't have that pretense set up that their way is the only way (or even the best way.). The recipes don't even start until page 32. Before that, Isa Chandra Moskowitz and Terry Hope Romero take great care to explain how one might want to substitute one ingredient for another in their recipes and how one could go about doing just that. Need gluten-free? They explain the conversion process between wheat-flour and gluten-free flours. They even offer their own "perfect" gluten-free flour combo. Diabetic? They explain cane sugar alternatives. 

The truth is substitutions in cooking are not only okay, sometimes they are downright necessary. 

I have a cousin who recently found out her kids are allergic to wheat. One is also allergic to soy. I can't imagine what it's like to have to suddenly learn to cook with that strict of a restriction. There are a lot of people out there who do know, because they've done it. Those of us who can eat soy, wheat, nuts, shellfish, etc, we can't know what's it's like to cook without it. Or to be the kid who has to avoid the birthday cake at your best friend's birthday or avoid the kid who ate peanut butter for lunch because his breath alone might kill you.

However, if you are or know someone who does have these problems with certain foods, it's not as difficult to do as you might think it is (though it does require more effort and perhaps, a slightly larger allotted food budget. Sun butter ain't cheap, folks.). It's all about substitutions. By some twist of fate, I was out of soy milk. Look at it another way and I just made my cookies one step closer to safe for my cousin's kids. These babies are soy free.

Like it or not, food allergies, for whatever the reason, are on the rise. Dietary restrictions are common. I saw an article a few months back, featuring Sandra Beasley's allergy girl as an example, that discussed this topic in regards to children's birthday parties. That article suggested that the host should make sure to ask about any dietary restrictions right in the invitation for the allergic guest's parent to fill out when RSVPing. I admire the spirit of this suggestion, particularly in light of the recent parent picket in Florida in which the parents demanded a young girl with a severe peanut allergy be home-schooled. However, asking for dietary restrictions from every guest means a parent hosting a party will have to cater to every potentially expensive dietary whim of the parents of the party guests (little Suzy can only eat organic), not no mention if these whims clash (Ed is vegetarian and Bobby doesn't eat carbs). I've noticed that parents have a way of making sure you know if their children have serious restrictions. My son's best friend is Muslim and his mom was sure to mention that he could not have pork (I assured her that, as I'm vegetarian, there is always a nonpork option. Always.).

If you know, though, that someone does have an allergy, I encourage you to take that step without provocation, and just make food that child can eat with everyone else. It seems like a lot. In the article on children's birthday parties I mentioned before, they included only one gluten free cupcake recipe and one of the ingredients in it was coffee (because that's a wise move at a children's birthday party...). It doesn't seem like there are a lot of options out there, but if you know how to substitute ingredients, you can make these adjustments in any recipe you have. I can relate to being the only one in the room who can't eat anything on the food table. Meat-eating is still the dominant mode, and there are several restaurants I can't eat at because even the salads come with meat on them (I know, you can hold the meat, but I'm not paying the price of meat when all I'm getting is a salad). 

It's not hard to learn substitutions, and I encourage you to pick up a copy of "Vegan Cookies Invade Your Cookie Jar" if you are interested in non-egg binding agents, sugar alternatives, or gluten-free options. If that's not for you, keep in mind that the internet can be a great resource for recipes, as well as suggestions for substitutions. If you are a reader of mine and you have allergies that make some of my recipes useless to you (or so you thought), keep in mind, that you can always substitute. Can't eat soy but you are okay eating meat? I'll bet chicken would work fine. Can't have wheat flour? Try oat flour, rice flour, or millet flour (I really love the texture of a baked good made from millet flour). I also hear spelt has some gluten, but significantly less than wheat. You could experiment with spelt flour. There is an endless list. Can't have diary? There are a growing number of diary alternatives: soy milk, hemp millk, even almond yogurt.

You might feel guilty at first, but don't. You might worry about the outcome of your cooking. Maybe it won't turn out right because of the substitution. I'm here to tell you that, yes, some adjustments may need to be made (chicken usually takes longer to cook than soy, for example), but I'm big with substitutions. Everybody, whether they have an allergy or not, has a dietary restriction in some way or another. Some people only like food that is white in color (an admittedly extreme example). Some people value local foods. Some value organic. Some people don't eat carbs. Some people don't like red meat. Some don't eat meat at all. I don't like onions, so I either go without when a recipe calls for them or I substitute with celery (similar texture, different taste). I don't eat meat, so when a recipe calls for meat, I have to get creative. It doesn't stop me from using the recipe. That's really what it means to Kate-ify. It means substituting out what the recipe requires of me for what I like or have on hand.

I love my cookie recipe book for making it okay to substitute. There are many books that make it practically a crime. (I recently got "Babycakes Covers The Classics," (it's a gluten-free vegan baking cookbook) which uses high-priced ingredients and expressly states that you should make no substitutions. Like it would kill the recipe to use corn starch instead of arrowroot.) I can tell you that I always make substitutions and whether or not the recipe I've Kate-ified says it's okay to substitute, the result has turned out fine. Gwyneth Paltrow's new cookbook ( "My Father's Daughter") is another that uses fancy ingredients, but unlike "Babycakes," she understands that not everyone has her food budget. Not everyone, after all, can be Gwyneth Paltrow, so she offers suggestions of substitutions for the more expensive items in her pantry right on page 44.

What I'm trying to say is: experiment. Try things out. What's on the recipe page isn't set in stone. It's on a piece of paper. If it makes you feel better, you can white out the original ingredient and write in the one you used. The world will not end. The food will taste good, and sure, you might end up with a few flops. Every flop, though, is a learning experience, a mistake you won't make next time. Who knows when your kid will come home and announce that his new best friend is allergic to eggs or when that woman you just met who can't eat wheat grows to become your maid of honor. Wouldn't you want her to be able to eat the cake at your bridal shower? Substitutions. They work.

So I didn't have soy milk. My non-vegan cookies tasted so good. Just as good as they would have with soy milk. It's not a big deal unless you make it into one.

Going to the Zoo Zoo Zoo. How's about you, you, you?

I have a revamp of the blog in the works. I've decided to branch out in my written recipe to include the other passions in my life. Don't worry, there will still be plenty of food. In the meantime, here is a surprising lunch I had at the Cleveland Zoo, in a cafe next to the aquarium/primate house.

A veggie burger! At the zoo! It was a rice and veggie mix with a definite spicy pepper zing. Copious amounts of water were consumed in the eating of this burger, but I didn't care about a semi-scorched tongue. It was delicious just the same. By the way, look a little closer and you may be able to tell that the bun? Totally wheat bread. Now that, folks, is not a find to make light of. White flour buns are a dime a dozen, but wheat flour is a rare find in a restaurant setting. And I was at the zoo, no less. A place that often leaves me with the option of nachos, fries, or an ice cream cone and that's about it.

Sometimes Cleveland manages to get something right. Another thing Cleveland got right? Okaying to house the set of the newest Whedon flick. (I heart Whedon.) The Avengers is now shooting, and on the way to campus, I catch glimpses of the action. Today, I even spotted the set's food tables. Unfortunately, Joss Whedon was apparently not hungry when I was walking by, nor was any other member of the cast and crew.

Pre-veggie burger lunch at the Zoo, I spotted something else in the primate house worth sharing:

Since when do monkeys do yoga?

Buttermilk White Whole Wheat Flour Pancakes

There was a slight problem in our frig. A carton of buttermilk, purchased for some baking purpose my loves-to-bake man decided against only after collecting all the ingredients. Buttermilk. Yeah. Thick, heavy, ugh-I'm-not-drinking-that-plain buttermilk. What's a girl to do? Why, make pancakes of course.

(Pictured here with a light drizzling of honey, the under-used, but equally as delicious as syrup, pancake topping)

The other problem was there are a lot of buttermilk pancake recipes out there, and I do mean A LOT. All of them are oddly very different in what goes in to the batter and how much. I went to a source I knew I could trust, taste of home. Their buttermilk pancakes seemed to fit the bill, and they were very good overall, a nice even batter, not to thin, not to thick. Nice fluffy pancakes. There's really not much to say about a pancake recipe other than is it a successful pancake recipe, and I have tried out some terrible pancake recipes. I'm thinking of one in particular, a sesame pancake one, that was supposed to be pancake batter but was so thin it came out all crepes.

True, it is no surprise that taste of home would pick a solid buttermilk pancake recipe, and I must say, I didn't know I could really enjoy a buttermilk pancake. I did, and aside from the fact that the recipe required 4 cups of buttermilk and our carton contained only slightly over 3 cups (I substituted the last 3/4 c with regular milk), I had no trouble at all making these tasty breakfast treats. The surprise wasn't with the recipe, the surprise was in the ingredients. You see, I didn't make all-purpose flour buttermilk pancakes.

I made these babies with white whole wheat flour.

What is white whole wheat flour, you ask? Why, it is a flour made from white whole wheat, an albino form of wheat with no bran coloration and a very mellow taste. It is whole grain wheat in a flour without the hassle of trying to stuff dry, gritty, "funny colored" bread down a loved-one's throat. I love whole wheat. I love the grittiness. I love how it has a taste. I love it's density, but my white-flour-loving spouse and child disagree on this point. When I make things with flour that the whole family is supposed to eat, I have to make it as a compromised mix of whole wheat and white flour. It has some taste and some whole grain without the full bite of a just whole wheat outcome. And that, my friends, is exactly what white whole wheat flour tastes like. Except it is entirely whole grain. It's the whole package. It's too good to be true, and yet, I have buttermilk pancakes sitting right on a plate that confirm it is, in fact, true.

(Pictured here with a more dessert-ish strawberry jam and confectioner's sugar topping)

Sometimes you really can have it all. These pancakes were rich and delicious and flavorful but not whole wheat flavorful, and they were 100% grade A certified whole grain. The kid loved them, as did the adults.

Add a side of eggs with ribbons of kale and this is a full meal that hits all the nutritional bases, whole grain, protein, fruit (hey jam counts), and veggies. Not to shabby for a last minute breakfast.

A LOT of mushrooms

There was a sale on organic baby bellas. We're talking buy 10 for $10 and get one free, so I did what any logical mushroom lover would do. I threw many many cartons into the cart. Of course, the problem, when we got home, became: what in the name of Zeus are we going to  do with all these mushrooms?

I read somewhere that mushrooms keep better in a paper bag in the refrigerator. Thus, I found an old paper bag and began filling it. Somewhere between six and eight cartons later, this is what I had:

Looking at this mass of fungus, I had an idea. I could stuff these babies. Oh, yes. I could stuff them good.

Stuffed Mushrooms

What you need:
1/2 c bread crumbs
1/2 c mozarella
2 minced garlic cloves
2 T parsley
1 T mint
salt and pepper
2 T olive oil
28 mini mushrooms

1. De-stem all 28 of your mushrooms.

2. In a bowl, combine the crumbs through to the oil. For lack of actual mint in your house, you could do what I did and see if any of your peppermint tea is made solely of mint leaves. One tea packet is about 2 T. I felt silly as I was sprinkling the leaf bits out of the packet, but once they were in the bowl, I swear I wouldn't have known the difference.

3. Stuff the mushrooms and line them up on a jelly roll pan. Cook in the oven at 350 F for about 25 minutes. Perhaps less time if you have a high-burning gas oven. Mine were a little on the crispy side.

And what better side dish to accompany this feast that some nice linguine.













Very succulent and cheesy. I'd even go so far as to say decadent.

Of course, this meal, large enough for three days worth of leftovers, consumed less than half of our mushroom load. I stir fried the rest. Half went in the freezer for a later date. With the other half, I made this:

I can't recall now what it is exactly, but it appears to be a bubbling cauldron of mushroom, zucchini, carrot, and tomato with some bell pepper thrown in. Then, there's rice added to the mix, what I assume to be some form of Spanish rice imitation.

Well, whatever it was, it was tasty too. It's hard for something to not be tasty when the veggies it's made from come fresh from the victory garden.

A Parmesan of Vegetable Proportions

The eggplant have arrived. So far, three Japanese and one globe. Time to break out the first Giada eggplant recipe: Vegetable Parmesan.

Tonight that's what I'm making. It's my second time making Giada's Veggie Parm. I first made it last week, when all I had was one measly japanese eggplant. I halved the recipe and it worked out fine. Tonight, though, I've got enough for the whole recipe, including a big fennel bulb I nabbed at Meijer in Sandusky for $1.

I had never used fennel before this recipe. It's a white bulb with fern-like leaves at the top and also goes by the name of anise. It looks a lot like bok choy once it's cut. You do that by chopping off the leaves (they aren't edible) and taking off the outer covering of the bulb. Then you cut off the bottom end of the bulb and cut out the hard heart center. Then, you chop it. What you'll notice while chopping is that fennel smells heavily of licorice, but don't worry, it has a very mild taste.

To pre-cook the veggies, I roasted them in the oven for 20 minutes before layering them like lasagna and cooking them again in the casserole (for full recipe, click the link above). I added a chopped red pepper (first one from the garden!) to the fennel layer for a little something extra.

When it was all cooked and cooled, I plated it and served it with a side of salad, complete with red lettuce and cherry tomatoes from the garden. Overall, this is one decadent veggie dish. All that cheese melts into everything else, so that every bit is infused with mozzarella, parmesan, and (because I used a mixed Italian cheese blend) provolone, romano, and asiago. The three 3/4 cups of sauce add just enough moisture and tomato-y sweetness, while the fennel adds a slight crispness to the otherwise mushy consistency.

At this point, I would kiss my fingers and fling them outward like an Italian Chef in a cartoon, but you wouldn't be able to see the gesture anyways.

For dessert, consider that innocent reminder of childhood campouts, the s'more. While at Meijer, I also picked up a bag of strawberry marshmallows. I didn't have chocolate, but I wanted the melted marshmallow/graham cracker combo, so I melted the mallow on a fork over one of the burners on my gas stove. Then, I smeared some peanut butter on half a graham and smooshed that and the mallow onto the other half of the graham. There's something delightfully simple about peanut butter and marshmallow. Even better when that marshmallow tastes like fake strawberry.

Thinking outside the salad bowl

This summer of Giada De Lairentiis has been quite insightful so far. I'd even have to say that she is making me re-revaluate the potential of bake-ability  of everything in my frig and in my pantry. All this over one dish. A dish that, of all things, cooks lettuce.

Now, I know that spinach is tasty cooked, as is Kale and every other dark leafy green like it, but for some reason, my American upbringing never allowed my brain the luxury of contemplating lettuce in anything but a bowl with dressing and sliced raw veggies. Maybe croutons if I'm feeling feisty.

No more. I have seen the light and it came shining from a Giada Cookbook.

Penne with Treviso and Goat Cheese

I'm not going to give the full recipe now as it can be found here. What I will give is my own substitutions. I vegetarianized this mostly vegetarian meal by replacing the meat stock with veggie broth. I could not find treviso in Cleveland (go figure), so I decided on the equally acceptable raddicchio option. Of course, I didn't find a head of raddicchio by its lonesome, only in a bag mixed with romaine. I decided: what the heck? So my own meal pictured is really Penne with Raddicchio-Romaine and Goat Cheese.

I will also warn you that when it comes time to add the cheese, do so very carefully and exactly as she instructs or you might end up pulling apart mounds of molded together stringy melted cheese to salvage your dinner. And we don't want that do we?

Other than the cheese fiasco, this meal went off without a hitch (though this farming cliche is vaguely lost on my suburban mindset). My son was at his fathers the week before we made this and it was his welcome home dinner. He made quite a fuss, even though we assured him that he quite likes lettuce. Then he tasted it, and we had no more complaints. It's delicious. I'm not sure I've ever before tried balsamic vinegar in any form that wasn't sold in a salad dressing bottle with fruit mixed in. I have now, and there's no going back. Balsamic vinegar is heaven in a bottle. It's worth its weight in gold... which is probably why it's so darn expensive at the supermarket.

Cooked lettuce, I might add, is divine.

In other news, the garden has begun whipping out veggies in mass quantities. Look, we even have our first eggplant of the season! There's two more Japanese eggplanis on the bush, growing nicely, and one half-grown globe eggplant. Things have been cooking up in my kitchen, to say the least.