Kale and Leek Pie with Quinoa Millet Crust

If you are looking for a last minute dinner idea for Father’s Day, here it is.  This main entreé is portable, good warm or cold, and loaded with vegetables.  While savory pies and tarts are favorites of mine to make, I do not find making crusts easy.  They are an added element that can make a cook (or, at least me) shy away from them.  But, one made with cooked whole grains?  Easy.

Kale and Leek Pie with Quinoa Millet Crust 

*Cook’s Notes:  To make the crust begin by adding 1 1/2 c. cooked grains to the crust mixture.  Add up to 1/2 c. more if you want it thicker.  I chose to make a thicker crust with 2 c. cooked grains.

Gluten Free Crust 

• *1 1/2 – 2 c. cooked quinoa and millet (equal parts)
• 1 egg white, yolk reserved for the filling
• 3 T extra virgin olive oil
• salt and pepper

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  Grease a 9″ pie plate.  Set aside.  Combine 1 1/2 c. cooked quinoa and millet, egg white, extra virgin olive oil, salt and pepper to taste.  Mix well.  Add more cooked grains if desired.  Press mixture (the back of a measuring cup works well) firmly into the pie plate.
2. Bake the crust for 10 minutes or just until it begins to firm up.  Remove and set aside.

Filling

• 1 lg. bunch lacianto kale (also known as dinosaur kale) (about 4 packed cups) rinsed, ribs removed, sauté with salt and pepper, drain, squeeze out excess moisture, chop finely
• 2 c. arugula, rinsed, sauté with salt and pepper, drain, squeeze out excess moisture, chop finely
• 1/2 large leek (about 1 1/2 c. sliced)
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 1 1/2 c. unsweetened soymilk (or your milk of choice)
• 3 eggs + reserved yolk
• salt and pepper to taste
• extra virgin olive oil
• 2 oz.  herbed or peppered goat cheese

1. Warm a T or two of olive oil over medium heat in a large skillet, add sliced leeks and a pinch of salt.  Lightly sauté leek, about 3 minutes.  Add garlic.  Cook 1 minute.  Remove from heat.  Let cool.
2. In a medium size mixing bowl, whisk together milk and eggs including reserved yolk.  Salt and pepper to taste.  Once greens and leeks have cooled, add to egg mixture. Combine. (Alternatively, the egg mixture can be tempered if leeks and greens have not cooled.) Once the greens, leeks, and egg mixture have been combined, pour into prepared pie crust.  Dot the top with 2 oz. goat cheese.  Bake at 350 degrees for 35 – 45 minutes until center is loosely set and the crust is light golden brown.
3. Let rest 15 minutes before serving.  Serve warm or at room temperature.  Serves 4.

Rainbow Radish and Greens Pasta

Inspired by P. Allen Smith’s use of radishes, these radishes make a lovely pasta dish.  They are sautéed and braised with onion until sweet and mellow.  Tossed with the radish greens, parmigiano reggiano, and reserved pasta water, the resulting dish is flavorful and light, perfect for summer.

Rainbow Radish and Greens Pasta 

1 bunch organic rainbow colored radishes (about 10 radishes) with their tops, radishes and greens washed, radishes thinly sliced (you want them to be translucent thin), green tops torn into bite size pieces
1 medium sweet onion, diced
1/4 – 1/2 c. high quality vegetable broth
2/3 c. + parmigiano reggiano, grated
8 oz. whole wheat or gluten free pasta (I used a gluten free quinoa corn blend pasta)
reserve 1/2 c. pasta cooking water
salt
freshly cracked black pepper
extra virgin olive oil
for a silkier sauce add 1 or 2 T unsalted butter after adding the vegetable broth, cook to reduce to desired consistency (optional)

In a large saucepan with deep sides, heat 1 T extra virgin olive oil over medium heat. Once warmed, add the diced onion with a pinch of salt, cook 3 – 5 minutes just until they begin to give up some moisture.  Add sliced radishes.  Add another pinch of salt and cook, turning often, until they lose most of their moisture, about 10 minutes.  Be careful not to burn the vegetables, turning down heat if necessary.

Begin making pasta.  Once the radishes and onions have lost most of their moisture, add broth, braise on medium low heat for 10 – 15 minutes until the vegetables have absorbed most of the liquid.  Stir in butter if using.

To the vegetable mixture, add torn cleaned radish greens, al dente cooked pasta, grated cheese, 2 T. reserved pasta water, toss to combine.  Add pasta water 1 T at a time if a looser consistency is desired. Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste.  Serve with another sprinkling of parm reggiano if desired. Serve immediately.  Makes 3 generous servings.

Inspired by P. Allen Smith

just washing the ceiling

Three rags in hand, standing on a tall step stool in our screened-in porch with a bucket of dirty, soapy water by my side, I was (ready for this?) washing the ceiling.  Yes, the ceiling.  As I wiped down the beadboard, board by board, I eventually gained a rhythm to the project.

First, I tried a mop.  The end result was a wet head coupled with dirt, grime, and mold smeared on the ceiling.  After replacing the carpeting I had moved out of the way to use the mop, I tried using a rag rubbing back and forth to remove the black grime.  Although it wasn’t quite as messy, the rag quickly became dark with dirt and had to be rinsed too frequently.

I then moved on to using three rags.  Three because I could hold three in one hand and I had enough material to wipe down each board without having to rinse out the rags quite as much. Less steps to climb as I went up and down the stool to refresh each rag.

If I got ahead of myself, I found I had to redo something. If I skipped a board or did not wipe it down well, I was met with the idea of having a dingy gray ceiling instead of having the shiny, white beadboard ceiling back.  If I tried to reach further than where I comfortably could from the step stool, I became off-balance and my attention was drawn more to not losing my footing than the work I was doing above me.

As I painstakingly cleaned, I thought about how this experience was analogous to many of my life’s experiences. How often have I gotten ahead of myself?  Or, how often had I so badly wanted to get ahead of where I needed to be (or where I was) that I never started what I wanted to start?

Baby steps.  That ceiling took baby steps.  Aside from the fact it may seem crazy to clean a ceiling…I am quite thankful to have been reminded of that lesson.  The lesson that sometimes the only way to reach a goal or go through a process (so many things in life are a process) is one small step followed by another small step.

There is a saying in the yoga world, “meet yourself where you are.”    In other words, become mindful of who you are in the present and your surroundings without wanting something to be different than it is.  Take stock and go from there.  This provides a great jumping off platform…solid footing from which to work.

In that four hours, life was framed.  Life was taught.  Life was as is.

Quinoa and Sun-Dried Tomatoes with Garbanzo Beans

The sweet sun-dried tomatoes play off the salty olives well.  Substance comes from quinoa, brown rice, and garbanzo beans. Nice finishing touches are a big squeeze of lemon, as much parsley as you like, and a slub of yogurt. If you don’t have quinoa, using all brown rice or farro in this dish would be fine rather than a combination of grains. The yogurt can be made into a sauce to serve on the side.  Add salt, a touch of raw garlic and a squeeze of lemon.  Stir to combine.

Ingredients:

• 1 c. brown rice, cooked
• 1/2 c. quinoa, cooked
• 1 14 oz. can garbanzo beans, rinsed, drained or cooked dried beans
• 1 large leek, well cleaned, sliced thinly (about 2/3 c.)
• 1/2 c. julienned oil-packed sun-dried tomatoes
• 2 T. oil from tomatoes
• 1/4 c. (heaping) pitted black olives, thinly sliced
• vegetable broth, optional
• chopped parsley
• lemon wedges
• T. or two of plain yogurt or prepared sauce, omit for vegans
• extra virgin olive oil
• salt to taste

1. Set aside prepared grains and beans.  In a large skillet heat 2 T of extra virgin olive oil over medium heat.  Once heated, add the leeks and pinch of salt.  Increase heat slightly and begin to sauté the leeks.  Once the leeks have softened, about 5 –  7 minutes, stir in the prepared grains, beans, tomatoes, oil from tomatoes, and olives.  Warm through.  Salt to taste.  Add a splash or two of broth if dish needs moistening.
2. Plate each serving.  Garnish with parsley, lemon wedge, and yogurt.   Serve immediately.  Serves 3 generously.

informing our behavior

Like a blinking yellow light pulsing hypnotically on a stop light, our storylines hum through our minds continuously informing our behavior and our way of being in the world.  Living without gently tapping into that tape, or storyline, is akin to walking around with heavy chains wrapped around our waists.  The chains drag us down and keep us in familiarity.  Yet, we are human.  The familiar tapes playing in our minds are a part of each of us.

By nature, we are drawn to familiarity and routine.  Much of what we do routinely is life giving.  A habit of waking at 6:30 a.m., going for a jog, and eating a healthy breakfast; or, rising early to sit quietly either meditating, praying, or simply centering before the day begins, are all life giving activities.  However, when we have a sense that our habits or routines are not conducive to our overall well-being, or when they are no longer serving us, possibly it is time to simply observe and become aware of what our storylines are saying.

For example, heeding my aversion to writing is not in my best interest;  nor, I would argue, in the best interest of those around me.  (The process of writing does something for me that makes me a happier person if I engage in the act.  So, I can be a more pleasant person to be around if I have written on a given day.)  Though I am drawn to writing, I am disinclined to do it.  So, I can easily hypnotically avoid it.  Drawing awareness to this aversion has helped.  As with many areas of my life, I’ve allowed the hum of my tape to direct my behavior.  As I’ve mentioned before, it is when I sit down to write that many of my storylines come home to roost.

Barging in the front door and taking their places at the table without even a thoughtful knock, each of them tries to outdo the other to be heard.  With an offbeat party favor in hand, some of them wave the red flags that I must be handing out as they enter yelling “pick me! pick me! I’ll tell you how you feel about writing,” as they sit at the dining room table each wanting a chance to speak.  My usual is to let them all speak at once. One of them quips “you can’t do this, you can’t write.”  Or, “this is too hard.  It is not worth the time.”  Followed up by the guest with the biggest flag sitting in the center seat, “whoa… good thing you don’t need to earn a living being a writer because no one would have food to eat!”

While I am fully aware of my complicity, I feel powerless at times.  Powerless when I buy into what they are saying.  Again and again they tell me who I am.  They define me.  They guide my decisions.  And, I listen.  But, we are not powerless.  I think each of us knows this.

While it is normal that I’ve not (yet) created another pathway for those well-grooved thoughts slipping seamlessly through my neural pathways, if I decide to stop writing that day because of those thoughts, I have listened to what they have to say and taken their advice.  My error is not in listening to them, (although there are varying opinions on this), my error comes when I act based on what the storylines are saying.

I heed Rumi’s advice.  I believe all emotions, thoughts, and feelings deserve time on the playing field of our minds.  In other words, they should not be dismissively pushed away or repressed because this can result in making them stronger.  Those that are recurring purely based on emotion (not steeped in reality), or those that are simply ruminating thoughts should be acknowledged, then set aside or transcended so that our actions or reactions are not based on thoughts that do not serve us.

I share my powerless feelings and negative thoughts for two reasons:  1) There is liberation after awareness.  And, 2) negative low-humming tapes can be difficult to detect.  Usually we have to get really quiet and listen.  My desire is that possibly, by reading this, you have a sense that you are not crazy or abnormal if you have a bunch of negative thoughts running through your head.  It has been my experience that is quite normal and widespread.  It is simply part and parcel of being human.  And, my hope is we (I) keep in mind there is liberation after awareness of the negative thoughts, feelings, and emotions.  The chains do loosen and can be removed.  We can stop watching the yellow light blinking at the stop light.

Freedom from storylines can come in many forms. Years ago my desire to cook and bake was stymied by the thoughts and emotions I experienced while in the kitchen.  (They directed my behavior.) Among other things, the low hum moving through my mind said I should expect perfection with anything I made.  Coupled with my thoughts, my emotions while in the kitchen seemed almost insurmountable.  I would instantly (seemingly instantly, there are small gaps between thought, feeling, and behavior) become frustrated, anxious, and irritable when making much more than toast or oatmeal.

But, as I mention in my “About” page, I had the feeling that somewhere between the frustration and irritability was a lesson I needed to learn.  A lesson I wanted to learn.  Now, I no longer carry those negative thoughts into the kitchen with me. I did it by getting quiet and listening, really listening to the storyline that played when I entered the kitchen.  I developed an awareness of what my mind was telling me.  I then challenged those thoughts based on reality.

What would it be like to live with a more direct experience of reality?  What would it be like to quiet, even if only for a breath or two, the continual tape that runs through our minds? What happens when we bring awareness into our daily lives?  When we bring awareness into our daily lives, the storylines quiet, the blinking yellow light has less control over our behavior, and we experience reality more directly.

I frequently make what I think of as everyday cakes.  My definition of an everyday cake is that it uses very little or no sugar, no butter, and it has a substantial fruit or vegetable component. This banana cake adapted from Green Kitchen Stories meets those criteria.   It is loaded with flavor and it is healthy.

Baker’s Notes:  Although this is a gluten free cake, for those of you who would rather bake with wheat flour, a combination of whole wheat, whole wheat pastry flour, and/or white whole wheat flours would do very well.

Vegan and Gluten Free Banana Cake 

• 1 cup brown rice flour (or superfine brown rice flour)
• 1 cup quinoa flour
• 1 tsp baking powder
• 1/4 tsp baking soda
• big pinch of salt
• 3 ripe bananas, mashed, set aside
• 1 cup unsweetened apple sauce
• 1/2 cup soymilk (unsweetened)
• 3 T olive oil
• 1 t vanilla extract
• 1/2 cup seeds or nuts, chopped, if necessary (I used raw pumpkin seeds)

1. Preheat the oven to 350°F.  Grease and flour a 10″x4″ loaf pan or a 9″ round cake pan. Set aside.
2. In a medium mixing bowl, combine flour through salt.
3. In a small bowl, mash the bananas with a fork or potato masher, then add apple sauce, milk, vanilla, and nuts. Stir to combine.  Combine the wet ingredients with the dry.
4. Pour into prepared baking dish. Baking times will vary according to the size pan chosen.  About 50 minutes to 1  hour for the loaf pan and 35 – 40 minutes for the 9″ round cake pan.   Check for doneness with a toothpick inserted in the center.  The cake will develop a slight golden brown color around the edges.  Once baked, cool on a wire rack before turning out.  Ready to serve once cooled.  Store the remainder in fridge.

since when is dependency…good?

Dependency is good, when it is interdependence.  When we are connected by a need that two parties fulfill, such as in the relationship between farmer and consumer, interdependence can shine.  Whether is it the government buying surplus crop from a farmer or a woman purchasing corn from a produce stand to feed her family, consumer and farmer are dependent upon each other.  This links us together.  In this example, we are connected by a need for nourishment and sustenance. Interdependence is a link of unending dependence.

In the past several months, I’ve circled the idea of mutual dependency like a wolf circling its prey.  It was both intriguing and confusing to me.  It was intriguing because I didn’t actively embrace mutual reliances.  (Yes, this is foolish.)  It is not necessarily that I shun being dependent upon others, but my off-handed reaction was driven more by an uneducated indifference and a lack of awareness.  My confusion was driven by its application in some meditation traditions.

When I think of dependency, my mind immediately bounces as quickly as a tennis ball bounces off of a racquet to codependency.  Without skipping a beat, emotionally I begin to back away.  So, I had to put in the time to retrain my mind that dependency can be something that is to be welcomed.

Now, I understand the vibe of mutual reliance can be virtuous.  Going forward, I hope that I think more often of the farmer’s hands who planted all of the root vegetables in the soup my husband and I enjoy.  Hands stained black with dirt and hard work as I saw at a dinner I recently attended honoring food and cooking.  Or, I hope I remember that my favorite plant in the front yard was started by Rick in his nursery.  Had he not started the plant from seed, I would not be able to enjoy looking at it everyday.

So, when is dependency good?  It is good when a link of unending dependence answers mutual needs.  If you are interested in reading more about this topic, as a starting point I suggest visiting The Interdependence Project at theidproject.org.

I keep coming back to this soup.  I’ve made it at least twice in the past week.  I’ve eaten it for dinner and lunch.  While it is not pretty or fancy, it is just the sort of thing I crave in a soup.  Tender, chunky vegetables that have retained a bit of bite.  A good dose of onion, lots of beans, a grain, and a little bit of seasoning to pull it all together.

Cook’s Notes:  *Vidalia green onions are typically found in markets the months of February, March, and early April.  They have a large white bulb and are the length of leeks. I love them and use them for the months they are available in place of sweet onions.  (If you cannot find them, simply substitute a sweet onion. I would not substitute the smaller, thinner green onion.)

Chunky Parsnip and Bean Soup

• 2 lg. or 3 small carrots, rinsed, diced, (peel on)
• 2 lg. or 3 small parsnips, rinsed, diced, (peel on)
• 2 lg. *Vidalia spring onions with green tops, rinsed, slice thinly including the green tops
• or 1 medium sweet onion
• 1 to 2 t. ground thyme
• 2 t. oregano
• 2 – 3 T. tomato paste
• 1 15 oz. can cannelini beans, rinsed, and drained
• 1 15 oz. can pinto beans, rinsed, and drained
• 4 + c. vegetable broth, preferably low-sodium and water as desired
• 2 + c. cooked brown rice
• salt to taste

1. In a medium saucepan, cook 1 c. brown rice according to package directions.  Set aside.
2. In a large stockpot or dutch oven, heat 1 – 2 T. extra virgin olive oil over medium heat.  Add the diced carrots and parsnips with a pinch of salt.  Cook the vegetables, stirring frequently as they begin to soften, about 8 or so minutes.  Add the onion and continue to cook over medium heat about another 8 minutes, reducing the heat if necessary.
3. When the vegetables are fork tender and the onion has become translucent, push the veg to the side and add 2 or 3 T. of tomato paste.  Stir continuously as the paste loses its raw flavor, about 1 – 2 minutes.
4. Add the spices.  Stir continuously about 1 – 2 minutes to bloom the spices.  Add 3 c. of broth, half of each dish of drained and rinsed beans, and half of the rice.  Stir to combine.  Now add the remaining broth, rice, and beans to your liking.  Substitute 1 c. water for broth, if desired.  (I ended up using about 2/3 of each can of beans, 2 1/2 c. of broth, 1c. of water, and 2 1/2 c. of the cooked rice.)  Simmer for 5 or so minutes until the flavors begin to come together.  Serve hot.  Dress each bowl of soup with a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil, if desired.

the sweetness of allowing

Do you have a situation(s) in your life you’d like to change? The past several months have found me wrestling and wrangling with circumstances in my life I wanted to learn how to approach differently.  I simply couldn’t find a way to do it, until recently.  About a week ago, I came up with an idea I thought may help.  I would try to be with these situations differently; and, I would try to allow them.

My first attempts in handling these aspects of my life were to work on changing my reactions to them.  While not altogether a bad idea, I wasn’t making any headway.  It became a battle.  Perhaps I developed an expectation that I had to alter my responses. I don’t know.  But, I subscribe to Aristotle’s theory “we are what we repeatedly do.”  So, my thinking was if I could modify my responses to these circumstances, I’d step off of the circular mental train track I was on.  Even though I would find myself back on the same track at times, once I had the opportunity to get off the track, I was pretty confident I could do it more and more often.  Yet, something about it wasn’t a fit for me with these situations.

One morning while doing household tasks, I had a feeling. Not a thought, but a feeling that I could be with these aspects of my life differently.  I could allow them.  I could allow them to be as they are.  In doing so, my presence around each circumstance changed.  (If that makes sense.) With this change, I was afforded the opportunity of approaching the situations with less emotion. In turn, equipping myself to more readily allow them.

I can’t emphasize enough the significance around my changed presence in each situation.  For me, that seemed to be a key.  Not for solving a problem or fixing it, but for being with it.

Possibly this led to a change in reaction as well?  I don’t think it did.  My reactions, although softened, are about the same.  But in modifying my presence around each circumstance, I’ve been granted space.  Breathing room.

Approaching and allowing the situations rather than changing my reactions reminds me of the difference between a Meyer lemon and a regular lemon. While both are lemons, the Meyer lemon is sweeter and less acidic than a standard lemon.  It has less bite.  Less zing. In like manner, I noticed less bite and zing when approaching each situation and allowing it.

Most likely, we could all use a little less bite and zing in our lives.  Maybe by changing our presence around a difficult situation, a little more sweetness can emerge out of the most challenging areas of our lives.  I hope so.  And, for the record, I think it can.  Scratch that.  I know it can.

How about a dinner idea for a substantial vegan meal? Chunks of roasted butternut squash combined with coconut milk soaked quinoa and garbanzo beans brightened with wilted baby spinach leaves.  This is a good meal to use the proportions of vegetable, grain (although quinoa is technically a seed, any whole grain could be substituted), and bean you enjoy.  The following is a blueprint to follow.

Here’s how I did it:

• I medium butternut squash, cubed and *roasted at 350 degrees until softened and lightly browned, about 35 – 40 minutes
• 1 c. or so white or red quinoa, or combo, cooked, set aside
• 1 14 oz. can garbanzo beans, drained, rinsed, set aside
• 1/2 med. yellow or sweet onion, diced, sautéed in large skillet with coconut oil or extra virgin olive oil and large pinch salt
• 2 t. curry powder
• 1 t. each, turmeric and coriander
• 1/2 c. or so full fat or lite coconut milk
• 2 – 3 c. baby spinach, rinsed and drained
• salt to taste

1. Once squash and quinoa are prepared and the onion has softened, add beans and spices to the skillet.  Bloom the spices by allowing them to heat while stirring constantly, about 1- 2 minutes.
2. Add the coconut milk and the spinach, stir to combine, put the lid on and steam the spinach over medium heat to medium low heat until it wilts, about 3 – 5 minutes.
3. After the spinach is wilted, stir in the amounts of quinoa and squash you’d prefer.  Adjust with more coconut milk if necessary.  Salt to taste.  Warm through and serve.

Cook’s Notes:  Many cooks prefer full-fat coconut milk for the flavor and texture.  Although I do use it, sometimes it tends to be a bit too heavy for me.  I found in this recipe the light coconut milk lends enough of a subtle coconut flavor so the full-fat is not needed.  It is purely preference.

Roasted Squash:  Remove the tough outer skin of the squash by halving the squash.  Then, with two shorter pieces to work with, slice off the bulb of each piece where it narrows resulting in a stable cutting surface.  Next, cut straight down the side of the squash with your hand on the top of the vegetable stabilizing it.  Scrape out the seeds as necessary.  Cut the vegetable into bite-size cubes.  On a large baking sheet, toss the squash with salt, pepper and extra virgin olive oil.  Spread into an even layer.  Roast at 350 degrees for 35- 40 minutes until the squash is soft and barely beginning to brown.

pie

With a hue the color of a lemon just finishing its metamorphosis from green to yellow, the pies my maternal grandmother used to make took center stage on our dining room table. The lightly browned peaks on the lemon meringue pies crested over the soft yellow interior tumbling from one side to another.

“Grandma! Grandma! Can I have some pie?” I would inevitably ask as soon as I returned home from elementary school. But, the carefully prepared dessert was reserved for after dinner.  I knew as much, yet I could not keep myself from asking.

If it had been a hot day, the meringue might be slightly speckled and glistening, the air bubbles whipped into the egg whites having a bit of a hard time withstanding the heat.

Yesterday I returned home from visiting her.  She lived independently until age ninety-four; and, although she has suffered a chain of events in the last six weeks that would not allow her to stand in a kitchen and make a pie, I know she would remember those grand desserts.

It wouldn’t surprise me if she kicks this pneumonia stuff and transitions into assisted living soon.  Maybe I should bake a pie in her honor and have it sitting prominently in the room when she moves in.

Visiting a care facility, we see the fragile part of life.  In a park about a half mile from the nursing home, I saw vibrant life.  I saw green things growing with bugs, birds, and beetles moving about.  I went to that park after each visit to help me further accept the cycle of birth, life, and death. While I cannot say I am further along accepting those bigger life issues, I can say I envision a grand dessert sitting atop a picnic table with a little boy or girl just waiting for dinner to be done, and a grandmother smiling.