change promise fudge

That's my version of Eat Pray Love.

I haven't even reported back about my liquor infusions, and here I am quitting alcohol! These are basil vodka, plum vodka, cherry vodka, cucumber sake, and elderberry vanilla vodka. Later I made peach and watermelon vodka for a garden party: summer in a jar.

Before the New Year rolled around, we'd already been talking about making big changes in our lives:

• moving someplace warm
• finding satisfying work
• taking classes
• making TIME

My past lives have included long, glorious evenings that elude me now, evenings that had space for hanging out with friends, long and lazy meals, reading, team sports, walks, wandering in the garden; evenings that were five or so hours long and felt five hours long. I'm determined to get those back.

We'd already made these commitments to change, and then we hit a deer with our car. This experience kicked off another round of thinking about control: what to take control of and direct, and what to let go of because I can't control. Thinking may actually be the wrong word since it became the focus in less than a second during our car accident. Resolutions? Clarity?

I think of my veganism as an example of moving anthills into a line that points to my desired outcome. I can't close down feedlots or slaughterhouses, but I can be completely sure they never see a penny of mine by eschewing animal products repeatedly, throughout every day.

And now the deer. We'd killed someone and could have been seriously hurt ourselves.

I immediately re-commited to our quest for warmth, for ocean, for open time and space. I felt motivated to work on our house so that we'll be able to rent it and move. Seeing the body of the deer we killed torn apart and scattered made me think (among other things) about my body and its fragility. I immediately quit caffeine and alcohol to try and get my migraines under control. I started eating a lot more raw food wanting to shed anything unnecessary, weight and waste, but also streamlining preparation. I feel like I'm seeing a bit more clearly, and I want that to continue.

These are the plums after they've been fished out of the finished vodka. Plum vodka was a clear winner in flavors, but the plums themselves are STRONG. They kind of taste like a seriously alcoholic fruitcake.

A lot of the food I've been eating is so simple that the preps can't really be called recipes. But one raw fudge recipe that a friend shared for Christmas is really a recipe, a magical sweet that makes candy seem ridiculous. This fudge knows important facts:

• Great things are often simple things.
• The most important ingredient in sweets is salt.

The recipe is Sarma's of Pure Food and Wine. It came to me via fancy pants designer Matthew Robbins. It takes a couple of minutes to prepare, and one batch goes a long way. I'm told that the paddle on a Kitchen Aid makes mixing a breeze, but a big old spoon did the job just fine.

Raw Freezer Fudge

• 2 c raw almond butter
• 1/4 c cocoa powder sifted
• 1/2 c + 2 T maple syrup
• 1 heaping T coconut butter
• 2 t vanilla
• 1 t coarse sea salt

It's important to use the best and creamiest almond butter you can get your hands on. If you get one that doesn't have enough oil to be pliant, add extra coconut butter.

Mix thoroughly. Sarma flattens it all into a pan then cuts it into 1 inch cubes. Matthew flattens it into paper candy cups, for single servings. I don't have candy cups, just cupcake size papers, so I roll little balls in my hands, flatten them, and put each one its own cupcake paper. Go pack fudge!

by Wendy MacNaughton

Constant Kale Salad

At this time last year we were doing the first winter C.S.A. distributions. Some people were thrilled to get sweet fall kale, and others grumbled, complaining that there was always more kale than anyone was interested in eating. Brussels were a contested item, too, but there were more than a few converts when members shared a recipe for roasting them with a touch of maple syrup.

I get this and I don't. I love kale every which way and every day, and eat it straight off the plant. But I understand, too. I don't love broccoli rabe as much as the rest of the world, so get that some bitters need just the right ingredients combined with them to be palatable for some.

My latest favorite way to eat kale is a combination of two other kale recipes I love, one lightly cooked with pine nuts and cranberries, and one raw with lemon, garlic, and agave (like they serve at Bonobo's).

My new fave is raw, fast, and skips the agave. I often skip the garlic, too. It tastes delicious, looks absolutely beautiful, and is one of those foods that makes you feel invigorated rather than putting you to sleep. Make it with purple kale for special occasions!


Raw Lemon Kale Salad

• Two bunches of curly kale
• One lemon
• 1/3 c dried cranberries
• 1 T olive oil
  
• 1 seriously tiny clove of garlic
  

Remove the kale leaf spines, and slice the leaves into narrow ribbons. Bruise the leaves by squeezing handfuls. Do this until the bulk of the kale reduces by half. Mince the garlic and mix it with the juice of the lemon, the oil, and the cranberries. Stir into the kale (well) and let the mixture sit at room temperature for at least fifteen minutes. Tastes best served at room temperature.

Kimchi Pancakes

Yup, that there is vegetarian kimchi with a clever emphasis on ginger and fresh chilies, and garlic downplayed.

It's much like having to finish meals as a kid because of starving kids in China: you really ought to be enjoying lots of kimchi because people in South Korea are freaking out over their shortage.

As promised at our kimchi shindig, we'll be posting a bunch of great recipes here that use kimchi. (If you're making your own kimchi, there are a zillion recipes available for that, too.)

Let's start with KIMCHI PANCAKES, adapted from the NYT.

for the pankcake:

• 1/2 c flour
• 1/2 c potato starch
• 1 mashed potato with 1 t flax meal folded in
• 2 scallions, cut into 1 1/2-inch-long pieces
• 1 1/2 T garlic, sliced thinly
• 1 1/2 T Korean red pepper powder or 1/2 T cayenne
• 1 t salt
• 1 c prepared cabbage kimchi, cut in 3-inch-long pieces
• 2 T kimchi juice
• 6 T vegetable oil

for the dipping sauce:

• 1 T tamari
• 1/4 t sesame oil
• 1/4 t vinegar
• 1/4 t minced scallion
• 1/4 t ground sesame seeds

1. Make dipping sauce: In a small bowl, combine soy sauce, sesame oil, vinegar, scallion, sesame seeds and one-half tablespoon water. Set aside.

2. In a large bowl, mix flour, potato starch and mashed potato until smooth. Add scallions, garlic, red pepper powder, salt, kimchi and its juice. Mix well. Batter will be pale pink.

3. Place an 8- or 9-inch nonstick skillet over medium-high heat and add 1 tablespoon vegetable oil. When oil is hot, pour in one-third of the pancake batter. Fry until golden and crisp, about 3 to 4 minutes. Lift pancake with a spatula, add 1 tablespoon oil to pan and swirl it. Flip pancake and fry other side until golden, 2 to 3 minutes. Flip again, without adding oil, and fry for 1 minute. Flip one more time and fry 1 to 2 minutes. Pancake should be dark gold.

4. Repeat with remaining batter and oil, making 3 pancakes. Remove to a large round plate and cut each pancake into 6 wedges. Serve with dipping sauce.

Freezer Pickles Demystified

Conceptually, I've been weirded out by the freezer pickle. Pickles are fermented, or soaked in fermented products (vinegar), and freezers put a stop to fermentation. Great pickles are crunchy, and freezers can make watery veggies, like cucumbers, mushy by bursting their cell walls. A useful thing about pickles is that they can be stored at room temperature, therefore not using any energy. Freezers are all about energy.

So what is the deal with freezer pickles?

I picked a week where I was beyond busy to investigate. That turned out to be okay, because let me tell you the secret of why people make freezer pickles: it's the fastest, simplest way.

There are limitations, of course. There will never be a freezer nuka pickle. There will never be a deeply fermented spicy garlic dill, with all those naturally occurring probiotic bacterias that feel so great in your belly and have such great flavor.

But if you're a fan of bread & butter style pickles, or super crisp pickle chips, or sour flavors, the freezer isn't a bad way to go.

Again, here I tread in dangerous waters that show my lack of understanding of chemistry & other high school sciences, but, sugar & vinegar are necessary ingredients. The sugar keeps the cucumbers extremely crisp, and the vinegar keeps the cukes from freezing all the way. Where the freezing air comes in is this: it expands the cells enough to let the flavor of the vinegar & spices in, fast. Then the vinegar goes on duty, keeping the hard freeze at bay, and keeping the texture from going mushy.

If you've read this far, you've spent more time reading than it takes to make freezer pickles. I had a mental block against this pickling method, but I have to say, freezer pickles are sour and sweet supercrunch satisfaction.

Simplest Freezer Pickle Recipe Ever

• 8 c small cucumbers, cleaned & trimmed
• 1 medium onion, thinly sliced
• 2 T coarse sea salt
• 1 1/2 c sugar
• 1 1/2 c white vinegar
• 1 T whole celery seeds
• 1 T whole mustard seeds

Place cucumber and onion slices in a large bowl. Sprinkle with salt and stir to mix. Let sit for about 30 minutes at room temperature. (I'm a pickler, and solidly believe in this step. Still, mine only had time to sit for about 15 minutes.)

Meanwhile, combine the sugar, vinegar, celery seeds and mustard seeds in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil over high heat, then pour over the cucumbers in the bowl. Stir well, let cool, cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 24 hours (more or less), stirring occasionally. (I skipped the refrigeration altogether.)

Transfer to individual freezer containers or zipper-top bags and freeze for a minimum of 24 hours. Defrost and eat, anytime.

I was a bit aghast, but my freezer pickles, from a simple recipe where I'd cut corners even further, got raves.

Basil Lillet Cocktail

Because summer is so ridiculously short, this year I've been making an effort to live it up while it lasts. This past weekend that meant lighting luminarias in the yard and making basil cocktails to drink with friends. The recipe is for one serving, which makes no sense, so go ahead and triple it right off for a blender-full. Thanks for one last taste of summer via pretty green drinks, Martha.

Officially Salsa Season

The glut that was cucumbers and squash is now tomatoes and peppers and peaches and eggplants. Cherry tomatoes are literally dripping off the plants, and cayenne bushes look like Christmas decor. I feel like a [nonviolent] pilgrim I'm so grateful for the excess of the nightshade season. Its excess and its fleeting nature are both great arguments for employing some basic preservation methods. Along with fermenting, canning, oil pickling, and dehydrating, though, it's great to revel in the fresh stuff.

• Tomatillo Salsa Verde
• Cilantro Salsa
• Smoky Peach Salsa Obviously you'd use loads of fresh peaches in this recipe—it's August! And the ginger may seem odd to you, but it works.
• Salsa Cruda
• Canned Salsa for winter fiestas
• Zucchini & Rasberry Salsa

Slime & Broth

Regardless of the weird cool spell, it's the time of year that long-growing produce becomes available, and a very good reason, in my book, to turn to Vegan Soul Kitchen for some inspiration. When I look at what I've got (okra, watermelon, corn corn corn, the most delicious tomatoes), I know Bryant Terry is the right guy to figure out my next meal. And it's working out between he and I: he's not afraid of spice, of a sweet tooth, a foofy cocktail, or even of extreme simplicity.

When I read the "recipe" for sweet corn broth, essentially cobs with the corn cut off for other purposes, boiled in water with a dash of salt, I thought it might be too zen for me, but I did end up sipping some corn broth eventually, and I found it to be quite nice for those times that you want a little something but aren't full on hungry. (Since then, I've come to the realization that I might be a real broth/infusion fan, having sipped mint water, ginger water, pickle brine, bean broth and the like in just a handful of days. Oh miso, oh mushroom broth and seawood broth, oh oh oh.) And I'm not one of those wilting in the heat kinda gals who can barely lift her head for a sip of broth. I love summer heat, and I love food, but these simple (watery) foods are somehow extremely satisfying.

Broths aside for the moment, here's my favorite dish of August so far: lemon jalapeno okra. Terry mentions that he's a slime-phobe, and approaches okra carefully. I've never had a problem with the slikity-slime, but when I once complemented a chef on the best okra I'd ever eaten, he assumed I had the slime block, and shared his secret from Caribbean cooking: citrus kills the slime.

Have at it!

Lemon Jalapeno Okra

- 1 lb fresh, small okra pods, cut in quarters lenthwise
- 1 diced jalapeno
- 2 T olive oil
- 1 clove garlic, crushed
- Juice of one lemon
- Salt & fresh ground pepper to taste

I don't fry a lot, mostly because I hate cleaning up spatter, but this crispy okra is worth it. Throw everything in a pan and fry it until crispy! I start with half of the oil and half of the lemon, add the rest of the oil when the pan gets dry, and use the last half of the lemon in the last minute of cooking.

And, before August is through, can, dehydrate, and freeze some things, would ya? It's tempting to laze about in a hammock, but those of us who want good food from around here through winter need to get to work!

Turning on the Oven in Summer

It's a transition day! When you try to eat with the seasons, the year becomes a series of phases: when you first get to eat wild weeds in the spring, the first blossoms on your veggie plants, the first ripe berries, the first fresh pesto, the first flower you pop into your mouth, the first bulb of garlic, the first pepper that turns red, the first watermelon, the first pumpkin, the first freeze, the first food out of the root cellar, the first window sill greens, and back around. To me, everything tastes new each time, like a revelation.

Today, this last day before August and after many meals of summer squash, we have produce we've been waiting for: tomatoes, eggplant, and corn. (That came out sounding like I don't marvel at the arrival of summer squash, which I do.) Surprisingly, it was also cool this morning (in the fifties!), so after I threw a peach raspberry tart in the oven to warm my shivering self, I got to work on roasting a batch of eggplants for baba ghannouj.

While everything was in the oven, I marveled for the umpteenth time about how The Joy of Cooking is not the mayonnaise-y casserole-y tome I sometimes think of it as. A re-read of the "Condiments, Marinades & Dry Rubs" section alone shows it's reach: Georgian garlic and walnut sauce, picada, harissa, chutneys, flavored oils, sambal, mojo, curry pastes, and recipes for ketchups that actually taste good—unlike those we're familiar with eating out of squeeze bottles.

I heartily welcome August with baba ghannouj, bruschetta, and pickled corn rounds.

Smoky Baba Ghannouj Recipe
Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

• 10-12 Chinese eggplants
  
• 1 1/2 T tahini
  
• 2 T sesame oil that's gathered on top of tahini paste
  
• 3 cloves garlic
  
• Juice of 3 small lemons
  
• 3/4 t smoked sea salt

Pierce eggplants and oven roast in a pan with a little water and little vegetable oil, approximately 45 minutes. Eggplants should be soft, and the flesh should separate from the skin relatively easily. Let cool, then scrape flesh into food processor, composting stems and skins. Yes, you can keep the seeds in. Add all other ingredients and pulse until smooth.

Now, to find a source for good local bread . . . .

Pictorial Tutorial

For my friend who wants cool summer rolls all the time, has the recipe, and still won't make them. LOOK, it's easy.

Everything won't always be perfect, if you're just learning to roll, for example, or if you stray from your regular brand of wrappers. But choose ingredients you like, and they'll taste great regardless. These were made late at night when I was exhausted, wrappers crumbling, and without perfect ingredients. They weren't beautiful, but we were really glad we had them to nibble on for the next couple of days.

Rice noodles, rice wrappers, veggies, and herbs equal multiple tasty lunches, done cheap and easy.

Purslane

Some weeds are tastier than others, and the lemon crunch of purslane makes it really desirable to eat. Yeah, yeah, it's great for you and all that (more Omega 3s than any other land plant), and free and growing in the cracks of your sidewalk, but its flavor makes it one of those plants that makes you wonder why you haven't always been eating it.

Purslane is a succulent, like a jade plant or aloe or cactus. It's the kind of plant they tell Southern Californians to plant close to their house to help save it from wildfires. Succulents store a large amount of liquid in their leaves, or their stems or roots. The liquid in purslane can be used as a thickener in soups, similar to okra.

But the tastiest use of purslane by far is raw, in salads, or added after cooking, and the leaves, flowers, and stems can all be eaten. Greeks and North Africans have made use of purslane the longest, so its no wonder that the majority of purslane recipes combine it with cucumbers, mint, parsley, or yogurt. Mexico uses this plant as their parsley (called verdolagas), adding it raw to cooked foods for crunch, color, and tang.

Here are two recipes that make good use of mid-summer produce:

Grilled Zucchini Salad with Purslane and Tomato
Gourmet | August 2002

ingredients

• 1 t finely grated fresh lemon zest
  
• 3 T fresh lemon juice
  
• 1 T finely chopped shallot
  
• 1/4 t Dijon mustard
  
• 1/2 t salt
  
• 1/3 c extra-virgin olive oil plus additional for brushing zucchini
  
• 1/4 t black pepper
  
• 3 T chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
  
• 4 zucchini (1 3/4 to 2 lb total), halved lengthwise
  
• 12 oz purslane, thick stems removed (4 c)
  
• 10 oz pear or cherry tomatoes, halved lengthwise

Prep Prepare grill for cooking. If using a charcoal grill, open vents on bottom of grill. Make dressing: Whisk together zest, lemon juice, shallot, mustard, and salt in a small bowl. Add oil in a slow stream, whisking until dressing is emulsified. Whisk in pepper and parsley. Grill zucchini: Lightly brush zucchini all over with oil. When fire is hot (you can hold your hand 5 inches above rack for 1 to 2 seconds), grill zucchini, cut sides down first, on lightly oiled grill rack, uncovered, turning once, until zucchini are just tender, 8 to 12 minutes total. Transfer to a cutting board and cool slightly, then cut diagonally into 1/2-inch-thick slices. Toss zucchini with purslane, tomatoes, and dressing in a large bowl. Serve immediately.

Chopped Arabic Salad
Gourmet | May 2004

ingredients

• 1 lemon
  
• 3/4 t sea salt
  
• 1/4 t freshly ground black pepper
  
• 3 T olive oil
  
• 2 (1/2-lb) cucumbers, peeled, halved lengthwise, seeded, and cut into 1/4-inch dice (2 1/3 c)
  
• 1 lb tomatoes (3 medium), cut into 1/3-inch dice (2 1/2 cups)
  
• 1 c finely chopped red onion (1 small) or 1 cup chopped scallions (about 5)
  
• 1 c purslane leaves and flowers (break off with your hands rather than chopping to keep the visual appeal of the plant)
  
• 1 c finely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley (from 1 large bunch)
  
• 1/2 cup finely chopped fresh mint

prep Cut peel, including all white pith, from lemon with a sharp paring knife. Working over a bowl, cut segments from half of lemon free from membranes and transfer segments to a cutting board, then squeeze juice from membranes and remaining 1/2 lemon into bowl. Transfer 2 tablespoons juice to a large bowl, then finely chop segments and add to measured juice. Add salt, pepper, and oil, whisking to combine, then stir in remaining ingredients.

Hobo Stew

Secret ingredient = fire.
Fire makes food taste good. It's a fact.

When it comes to potatoes, they are exponentially better when roasted than when boiled or fried. When you roast potatoes on a fire, they are, in my opinion, the best they can be. Thank goodness I was a girl scout and learned to make hobo stew! There's plenty that's weird about scouting, and sometimes wrapping your food in foil and covering it in charcoals seems like one of those funny scout things. But if you've had this fire stew, you understand.

It's simple: cut up your onions, potatoes, celery, garlic, carrots, mushrooms, seitan, drizzle with olive oil, a bit of salt and freshly ground black pepper. Put everything on a double layer of foil, and fold it into a secure packet. Snuggle that packet into the coals of a fire, and sit back and enjoy the heat.

Maybe it's the pleasure of sitting outside by a fire that makes the food taste better. It's pleasant, surely, especially when you have a beer and the sun is setting and opossums wander by, but even when I eat leftovers (which I make sure there are), they taste better than if they were cooked indoors.

When the foil is blackened, flip the packet. The veggies will cook faster than they do in the oven. When you unwrap the foil packet, avoid the burning steam, then enjoy the tastiest "stew" possible. These days, it doesn't matter what we're grilling, we always prepare a packet of potatoes, onions, and garlic to fire roast, and enjoy later. Great payoff for two minutes of prep!

Sick & Cilantro

What do your tastebuds want when you're sick?

People talk about not being to taste anything, or everything tasting like metal when they're sick. Flavors definitely change for me, but I can definitely still identify flavor, and crave specific foods to satisfy what tastes good when I'm sick and stuffy.

For instance, to me, salt becomes sharper, to the point that I can't take much without foods tasting crazily oversalted. I know this specific taste change is the opposite for others, who I watch go wild salting, trying to be able to taste something, anything. Instead, I overdo the spiciness, pleased to sniffle and hoot and blow my nose a lot. I swear that hot chilies de-pressurize one's head for as long as the burning lasts. (I accidently typed "sweat" instead of "swear." Yeah, that's part of the scenario, too.)

A beverage that hits the spot when I'm sick is bubble juice. A toddler friend introduced me to this tickley throat remedy: spike your juice (orange, cranberry, whatever) with a healthy portion of seltzer, add lots of crushed ice, and let the freezing cold carbonation scratch and numb your throat.

Sharp fresh herbs are appealing to a sick me: tons of basil in garlicky bruschetta, tabouli ruled by parsley. Since I am currently yukky stuffy sick and there are no tomatoes yet, my craving has focused on an old favorite recipe: poblano cilantro pesto.

I've dug out my recipe notebook from college, when I went vegan and was learning how to put food together. Though the handwriting no longer looks like mine, it definitely is, with notes about vinegar cukes, green and yellow curry pastes, peanut dressing, cashew cheese, various veg patés and caviars, avocado cucumber soup, and that shredded veggie salad with lemon tahini and kelp powder that I ate constantly on toast. My book doesn't look like anyone's grandma's carefully preserved handwritten recipes, but it's got some treasures.

The poblano pesto recipe was passed along from a New Mexican friend who said it was from the 1989 Coyote Cafe Cookbook—all the rage in the southwest at that time. If you're not sick, but have the chemical makeup of a cilantro hater, the Times food section this week suggested that cilantro pestos may surprise you by not tasting soapy.

Poblano Pesto

• 6 T pine nuts, roasted in a dry skillet
  
• 6 green chiles, roasted and peeled
  
• 4 to 6 T olive oil
  
• 1 bunch of cilantro, washed very thoroughly
  
• salt to taste
  
• juice of 1 or 2 limes
  
• 1 sweet red pepper, roasted, peeled, seeded, and diced.

Blend everything but red pepper chunks to a paste in a food processor. Gently fold in red peppers.

This can be used to flavor up anything you're eating. It's amazing with cucumbers, for some reason. But the best way to serve it to the uninitiated is folded into pasta, and served at room temperature.

Let me know if any cilantro conversions occur.

Mango Pickle (and a way to use some of your mustard)

I dig relishes and pickles, and one of my favorite things we made from local produce last summer was Indian Peach Pickle. It was super spicy, went through a panorama of spices on your tongue, and finished with the gorgeousness of the sweetest fresh peach.

Inspired by the beautiful fruit of Brazil, I tried this mango pickle recipe, and am now keeping a jar of it going at all time, just adding new ingredients as the old are depleted. If I were invited somewhere that I wanted to be sure to be invited back, I'd take along a batch of these pickles. They're that tasty.

Mango Pickle with Scorched Mustard Seed

• 3 firm, unripe mangos. peeled, pitted, and cut into thin wedges
  
• Juice and grated zest of 2 limes
  
• 1/2 c peeled, grated fresh ginger
  
• 3 tablespoons minced garlic
  
• 2 teaspoons grainy mustard
  
• 1 or 2 jalepeños cut into thin slices
  
• 2 t kosher or coarse sea salt
  
• Dash of your favorite hot pepper relish or hot sauce
  
• Freshly cracked black pepper
  
• 3 T black mustard seed
  
• 1/2 c canola or sunflower oil

In a medium nonreactive bowl, combine the mangos with the lime juice and mix well. Set aside for one hour, tossing occasionally to coat. Drain the mangos and add the lime zest, ginger, garlic, mustard, jalapeños, salt, hot pepper relish, and black pepper to taste, mixing well. In a dry sauté pan over medium-high heat, cook the mustard seed, shaking the pan frequently, until the seeds crackle and jump and color of the seeds fades to an ashen gray, about or three minutes past the initial crackling. Add oil to the pan and cook for another minute. Remove from the heat, pour over the mangoes, and mix well. Mango pickles are ready to eat immediately, but the flavors will deepen and mellow significantly after a few weeks. Store them for 3 to 4 months, covered, in the refrigerator. From Quick Pickles by Schlesinger, Willoughby, and George.

Keeping Warm

When the world is glowing pale blue, like it was this morning just before dusk, and the sun rises to a snowy scene of greytones, it's not unusual to be dreaming of ways to introduce warmth.

I keep my coffee cup on the wood burning stove while I'm getting ready for work, to keep my hot drink HOT. The rest of the house is cold, but moments of holding that hot mug, and sipping hot liquid make a big difference. I, and the cats I live with, feel warmer when the stove is glowing orange. If the flames are hidden behind a log, or if the glass panes get covered in soot, we don't feel as warm as we would, even if the stove were emanating the same amount of heat. Psychological, maybe, but real nonetheless.

When it comes to food, there's actual heat (think of hot chocolate or stew), there's vibrant color to both warm us and to ward off scurvy, and then there's spice. Ginger, garlic, and black pepper come to mind immediately, and, if you're anything like me, chilies and paprikas follow closely behind. I also rely heavily on spicy condiments: Indian pickles, chutneys, spiced pumpkin butter. Two that warm your body up right quick (or burn out your nose hairs) and are easy to make are spicy beer mustard, and hot pink horseradish.

Spicy Beer Mustard, which I got from bread & honey, who found the recipe in an old issue of Martha Stewart Living

Ingredients:
1/2 c brown mustard seeds
1/4 c yellow mustard seeds
1 c dark beer
1 1/4 c white-wine vinegar
1 c mustard powder, combined with 1 c water (let sit 20 minutes)
2 T sugar
2 t salt
1 t ground allspice
1/4 t ground turmeric
1/4 t ground mace

Directions:
In a nonreactive container, combine mustard seeds with beer and vinegar. Let sit at least 48 hours. Check periodically to make sure seeds are covered by liquid; add more if necessary.

Transfer seeds and liquid to a blender or food processor. Add remaining ingredients. Process 4 to 6 minutes. Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator for at least 1 week before to let the flavors develop. The mustard will keep for a month or more. Judging from the the market tasters, people are gaga for good spicy mustard.

Hot Pink Horseradish
Wash and peel horseradish root as you would a potato and dice it into small cubes. Place the cubes in the blender jar. Add a small amount of cold water and crushed ice. Start with enough cold water to completely cover the blades of the blender. Add several crushed ice cubes. Put the cover on the blender before turning the blender on. If necessary, add more water or crushed ice to complete the grinding. When the mixture reaches the desired consistency, add white vinegar. Use 2 to 3 tablespoons of white vinegar and 1/2 teaspoon of salt for each cup of grated horseradish.

The time at which you add the vinegar is important. Vinegar stops the enzymatic action in the ground product and stabilizes the degree of hotness. If you prefer horseradish that is not too hot, add the vinegar immediately. If you like it as hot as can be, wait three minutes before adding the vinegar.

For the gorgeous pink version, simply throw in a chunk of beetroot when blending.

From Global Gourmet.

Mustard photo from bread & honey. Horseradish picture from some eco garden cooking dude blogger who I can't find again. If you recognize it, let us know the source!

Summer is Coming!

I keep telling myself this, like a mantra. It's better than pouting, right, and I do really feel those extra couple of minutes of light per day!

So I'm thinking ahead to things I want to do and experience this summer. Two things on my mind are homemade vinegar, and edible flowers. So what better than a recipe for nasturtium vinegar?

I haven't walked around eating flowers very much at all, but isn't it appealing? Though my first instinct involves fermentation (I can't help it!), I suspect I'll be trying them as ingredients and on their own, too. Hurry up sun!

Prickly Pear Sorbet

I'm minding my own business, keeping my head down, working, thinking I'm finally going to shut up about desert foods, and I run into prickly pear sorbet in Grand Central during my commute. Disruptive!

You can speak French and make this granita/sorbet/ice in fancy machines, give it a kick with lime or tequila, or make it with just a campfire, coffee filter, and a freezer. Done!

Summer in Snow

Today's predicted "late afternoon rain" is turning out to be thick, wet, snowfall. Some days you have to pretend: sweat it out in the steam room at the gym imagining you're in the tropics, or wear too few clothes while sitting close to the wood stove and eating summery foods. Let's think warm thoughts, shall we?

Here are some warm places I go back to in my head: making friends with a sweet dog in Buenos Aires, Argentina; driving to a faraway beach outside Recife, Brazil; checking out purple prickly pear cacti while wandering around San Xavier Mission outside Tucson, Arizona. All this mind travel is helped by eating one of my favorite summer foods, summer rolls.


Summer Rolls with Spicy Peanut Sauce

There's not really a real recipe for the rolls, but I'll tell you my favorite things to wrap up in rice wrappers:

• rice sticks - Make sure not to get bean thread, cuz it's a bit slimy. The rice sticks give the roll good texture.
  
• matchstick carrots
  
• matchstick red pepper
  
• matchstick cucumbers
  
• matchstick scallions
  
• fresh mint leaves
  
• shaved fresh ginger
  
• crunchy lettuce leaves

Cook the rice sticks according to the instrucs on the package (not very long). Drain. Don't worry about making extra—you can always eat them on top of salad with sesame dressing. Ditto for any extra chopped veggies.

Heat up a large frying pan of water, then turn off the fire. Soak a wrapper in the warm water until pliable (also not very long). Drain. On a cutting board or clean surface, put in some of each herb and veggie and a little portion of rice stick & roll up like a burrito. I like to put the colorful stuff on the outside, to show through the skin. I put a couple colorful pieces down first, then a lettuce leaf which will cradle and contain the rest of the ingredients, making it easier to roll. Your first few will look wonky, but you'll get the hang of it! Pretty soon you'll be dazzling your friends at parties, preferably parties on a beach or near a campfire.

There are zillions of variations on these rolls. I particularly like the scallion/ginger/mint interaction, but if you've got cilantro, go with that, get rid of the mint and ginger, pump up the scallion and red pepper, and include avocado or a little bit of spicy guacamole. A lot of people put in baked tofu or replace the lettuce with spinach. You get the drill: take what you've got and put in a rice wrapper!

Here's the sauce, which there is a recipe for:

• 1/4 c soy sauce
  
• 1/8 c brown rice vinegar
  
• 1/3 c warm water
  
• 1 Tbsp maple syrup
  
• 1/2 tsp sea salt
  
• 1 inch piece fresh ginger, minced
  
• 2/3 c chunky peanut butter
  
• 2 Tbsp toasted sesame seed oil
  
• 1/2 tsp paprika
  
• 1-2 teaspoons hot pepper sauce, or more to taste

Use the warm water to soften and blend the peanut butter. Once blended add other ingredients. Best at room temperature.

Beans, beans, they're good for your heart....

If you haven't devoured your beans from last distribution yet...

All the recipes I could think to post using them were pretty standard: borracho beans, beans on toast, the basics. But I remembered tasting New Paltz chef Lagusta's chili last year at a chili cook off. It had chocolate in it, and chilies, and fermented ramps, and really outdid any chili I've ever made. I asked her if she'd consider sharing the recipe (for your benefit and mine): read it here in all its glory. (Thanks for sharing it, Lagusta.) She recommends throwing in an old cup of coffee, which is a new one to me. Consider serving this fine chili with her homemade onion rings.

(Lagusta can be found at Lagusta's Luscious, Bluestocking BonBons, and her attitudinal and hilarious blog, Resistance is Fertile.)

Food Art

A word about your tea towels from last distribution, and the artist who made them:

Tea towels have everything to do with a functional kitchen. They are reusable for practically forever and let you forego paper towels and napkins, and they make every kitchen chore easier. I use mine to move hot things because I never seem to have potholders close by. I use them, with a piece of string, to keep bugs and dust out of crocks of fermenting food. I wash my hands twelve hundred times a day and need them to dry off. I air dry stacks of clean dishes on them. I use them as a fine strainer.

Putting a calendar on a tea towel ups their functionality one more notch. People in England and Ireland have been making calendar tea towels for a long time—you often bump into them in vintage shops.

Claudia Pearson, the creator of your 2010 calendar tea towel, is a Brooklyn illustrator and children's book author who hails from England. She loves the farmers market and is very interested in local and seasonal food. You can check out her lovely portfolio here. For the food obsessed, she's collaborating with chef Sung Uni Lee to create a series of illustrated recipes that are simple and vegetarian. You received the recipe card for tipsy leeks, and Claudia's just posted one for fuschia mash.

Art and food seem like a funny combination to some, but without aesthetics and creative experimentation, we'd never enjoy eating (or cooking) as much as we do!

Beets, the New Eco Graffiti Tool

I'm a fan of some of the illegal arts. I get, grudgingly, that gorgeous, bright colors of spray paint and mop markers are toxic. That's what makes moss graffiti, botanigrams, clean tagging (literally erasing grime), and other, newer forms of graffiti interesting.
As if beets aren't delightful enough, their gorgeous color calls out for brine reuse. And there are uses. If you're not drinking it as a tonic, or dyeing paper, clothes, or food with it, consider beet tagging.
Note that it does take some practice to get both your method and message right. Consider this grossness:
While you're practicing, why not be digesting this lovely Mediterranean Beet and Yogurt Salad? Here's how to make soy yogurt so that you can get the tang without the dairy.