Risotto-Stuffed Baked Tomatoes with Basil and Breadcrumbs

hot damme.

Risotto-Stuffed Baked Tomatoes 

with Fresh Basil and Breadcrumbs.

It was summer 2016, the summer of Jean-Claude Van Damme, and it was glorious. 

A little back story: as the only child of two people aggressively uninterested in pop culture, I missed out on some stuff in my pre-adolescent years. At the age of 7 I endured my second greatest schoolyard humiliation (the first being the wooden playground/ slide mishap that required a trip to the emergency room to have a 5" long protruding splinter removed from my right ass cheek) on the monkey bars during recess on a crisp fall day. A few kids were talking about the video for "Bad" and how bitchin'  it was and I decided to chime in. Bad to the Bone? GEORGE THOROGOOD IS SO COOL. Did you guys see that episode of Alvin and the Chipmunks, too?! At this point I may have belted out a line or two. I was then matter of factly informed by the playground alpha that a) no one thought Alvin and the Chipmunks was cool and not one person on those monkey bars had ever heard of the song "bad to the bone" b) bad (not to the bone) was a song by some guy named Michael Jackson (?) NOT George Thorogood c) no one on that playground had ever heard of George Thorogood d) music videos were like movies for songs and you could see them on cable television if your parents were the kind of parents that were interested in paying for such a thing. 

Things went on like that for a while.

By the age of 11, I'd visited more historic homes and been an impatient spectator at more basket weaving demonstrations and dulcimer concerts than an entire nursing home full of old folks. Then I was 12 and there was middle school. Then there was Nirvana. A loaner cassette of Incesticide passed by a friend during gym class. And then I started doing the things you're not supposed to do with the people you're not supposed to do them with.

And things went on like that for a while.

And now I'm here. Its the year 2016 and I'm watching a Jean-Claude Van Damme movie for the first time in my entire life. Correction: the entire Van Damme oeuvre. In all its 80s/90s time machine-y, Belgian accent-y, over the top action-y, high kicking, ass kicking glory. Because with that first (Bloodsport, 1988) viewing, some decades long unscratched itch deep down in inside felt suddenly satisfied. I'd craved the campy sincerity of these movies without any conscious awareness of their existence. Currently six films in, I've witnessed a mulleted Van Damme attempt a Cajun accent and knock a rattlesnake unconscious with a single punch (Hard Target, 1993), play twins separated at birth reunited to avenge their parents' rather confusing deaths (Double Impact, 1991 -- one of two films in the Van Damme dual role sub genre), and bookend a ridiculously disjointed 1920s epic (penned by the Muscles from Brussels himself) dressed as an old man in a bar, telling his life story to no one in particular (The Quest, 1996). And those mid-air splits? Van DAMN. 

Time is a flat circle. Or time is a roundhouse kick that never ends. Or maybe time is just a lightning fast punch to the crotch. No way to know till the end of it all.

But there's something here, I think. Let's call it the Van Damme principle. Van Damme is a man out of time, he simultaneously exists everywhere and nowhere at once. Summer is technically over but summer isn't really over till all the tomatoes are gone and summer really really is a state of being that never truly begins or ends. Its an evolving theory. 30 + movies left in the queue... 

Things will go on like this for a while.

Risotto Stuffed Tomatoes with

Basil and Breadcrumbs.
(serves 4-6)

6-8 firm, medium sized tomatoes*

2 cloves garlic, finely minced

1 medium red onion, diced

2c arborio rice

1c water

1c dry white wine

1/2c basil leave, torn into small pieces

2tsp ground sea salt

1/2c unseasoned breadcrumbs

2Tbsp extra virgin olive oil

Gingery Coconut Milk Radish Greens Soup

(hashtag) radishmania 2016.

stop worrying. start sharing.

Gingery Coconut Milk Radish Greens Soup

with Salted Buttered Radishes.

I'm a black belt in anxiety fueled second guessing and self-sabotage.
An achievement a lifetime in the making.
It's the reason I'm terrible at sustaining friendships, why I still haven't gotten any tattoos or learned to skateboard or surf, and why I'm finally writing this slightly spring-y soup post on the eleventh day of summer at six in the evening.

The recipe has been tested and ready to share for well over a month at this point. But every time I sat in front of the computer and tried to write something (ANYTHING) to fill this space, I cycled through that obnoxiously familiar... nothing ever seems quite good enough no one cares what you have to say everything feels overwhelming so instead I'll just tunnel down the internet rabbit hole for a few hours because everyone should know how to modify a vintage dresser to conceal a litter box and tori spelling's full post 90210 filmography needs investigating also what ever happened to the guy who played the slightly rockabilly looking musician who sang that song about talking to angels and threw her character down the stairs didn't he get a spin-off or something... headspace.

Noise noise noise. 90s kid noise.

Then I had a minor epiphany at a concert the other night. Maybe it was the music or that I was juuuuust the right kind of self-medicated... whatever the cause, a whole lot of super intense feel-y thoughts about emotional honesty in relation to anxiety happened. The most immediately relevant being that I carved out this little digital nook way back when to put something genuine out into the world -- so what's the point if I'm not being my best (or at least...better) self here? Plus my birthday is rapidly approaching and I'd like to fuel my next trip around the sun with something more effective than creeping discomfort.

So YOU'RE WELCOME EVERYONE! Enjoy my rawness.
Also, this delightful soup recipe.

Gingery Coconut Milk Radish Greens Soup

with Salted Buttered Radishes.

Ingredients:

1-2 bunches of radishes (french breakfast, easter egg, cherry belle), greens attached--

you want roughly 2 cups of chopped greens, so shop accordingly
2 large shallots, thinly sliced
1/4c minced ginger
1 clove garlic, minced
2 1/2c reduced fat coconut milk
2c water

1tsp sea salt
2tsp olive oil

dairy free butter of choice
flaky salt

Garlicky Radish Greens Polenta with Crispy Shallots and Radishes

SPRUNG.

Garlicky Radish Greens Polenta

with Crispy Shallots and Radishes.

I know, I know. It's been a while. I'm going to ease somewhat gently back into these blogging waters by listing the top seven reasons why I'm not the biggest fan of spring. 1) It's too warm to wear sweaters all the time and I'm not ready to give up my cold weather wardrobe yet. 2) All I do is sneeze. 3) When I'm not sneezing my head hurts. 4) Local berries are still somewhat scarce and cost roughly $15,000 per pint at the farmers market. 5) I can not sleep with the windows open because I will wake up covered in a thin layer of pollen. 6) Did I mention that my head hurts? 7) Number two again. 

Now for the much shorter list of things I like about spring. 1) Radishes. 2) Not having to wear three pairs of socks to prevent frostbite. 3) Number one again. 

That is all. 

Perfectly blush-y pink-y bunches of freshly harvest radishes give me all the tingly feels. Enough to temporarily overshadow the seasonal crankery listed above and, upon first sighting of the year, compel me to grab a bunch in each hand, do a little dance while shaking them high in the air and scream LOOK WHAT I FOUND in the middle of a crowded market.

So here we are, at the very first post of (hashtag) RADISHMANIA 2016 - a yet undetermined number of recipes (at least a few, I promise) using every part of the radish, from pretty little root to leaf and everything in between. Because wasting stuff sucks and because radishes are awesome and so are you. xoxo

Garlicky Radish Greens Polenta with

Crispy Shallots and Radishes.

3 large shallots, very thinly sliced

2 garlic cloves, finely minced

1 large bunch radishes (cherry belle, french breakfast, easter egg)
with bright, healthy greens attached

1c coarse polenta grits (I prefer Bob's Red Mill brand. Not a sponsored post,
they just cooks beautifully)

3c water

3Tbsp extra virgin olive oil + an extra drizzle or two

2tsp sea salt + extra to taste

1/2c freshly squeezed lemon juice + an extra squeeze for dressing

Apple Cinnamon + Brown Sugar Pull-Apart Bread

get it together.

Apple Cinnamon + Brown Sugar

Pull-Apart Bread.



Sometimes things fall apart.
Life gets overwhelmingly garbage-y and the impulse is to assume the defensive position, remain static, and hope nobody notices.
Because one can only handle so many
metaphorical kicks to the crotch...
But sometimes everything comes together in the most inconceivably, ridiculously perfect way possible.
So inconceivably, ridiculously perfect that a "cynical is my default position" person such as myself would suspect an elaborately staged practical joke before believing the truth.
Out of the blue, life got really good.
Then there was this bread.
Keep pushing through the gray, you guys.
There's sweet stuff under all those layers.

Get it together, pull it apart.

tomato and plum cornmeal galettes with basil cashew cream

because summer ain't over till there's no more tomaters.
#GRAMMAR
Tomato and Plum Cornmeal Galettes 
with Basil Cashew Cream.

don't go, tomato.

I made a lot of delicious foodstuffs this summer. 

I made and ate a lot of delicious foodstuffs this summer. 

I made and ate and forgot to post about a lot of delicious foodstuffs this summer. 

Things happened. 

Fun was had. 

Days were long, the sun was bright. 

Feet were bare and delicious growing things were abundant.

There were road trips and boat trips and cold beers and grilled pizzas. 

There was music.

There was ocean rock skipping and boozy fireside storytelling.

Times were good. 

Times ARE good- if only a tiny bit chillier.

Yeah, the calendar says October, but I believe summer to be a fluid concept. 

A state of being the ebb and flow of which is entirely dependent on 

local tomato availability.

Soon mountains of dirt-caked root vegetables will replace the last lingering 

super-saturated nightshades. 

But not quite yet.

So put on a sweater, give those overeager fallen leaves the swift ass (stem?) kicking they so richly deserve, head to the market, and get baking.

itsy bitsy.

Plum and Cherry Tomato Cornmeal Tart 
with Basil Cashew Cream

(makes 5 medium tarts)

crust:

1/2c unbleached all purpose flour

1 1/2c stoneground cornmeal

1/3c unrefined coconut oil

1/2c chilled water

1/2tsp ground sea salt

filling:

2c plums, any variety, sliced into quarters or eighths depending on their size

1c halved cherry tomatoes, I used a mix of heirloom, sungold, and sweet 100 varieties

1c unrefined sugar + 1-2Tbsp extra for topping

1tsp fresh lemon juice
1tsp vanilla extract

2-3 large basil leaves, thinly sliced, for garnish

cashew cream:

1c raw cashews

1/2c fresh basil leaves
2tsp fresh lemon juice

1Tbsp maple syrup

1/4tsp ground sea salt

Watermelon Radish-Kale Slaw with Sugar Snap Peas.

rebel without a slawzzz?
ugh. puns...
Watermelon Radish-Kale Slaw with 
Sugar Snap Peas.

i won't do what you tell me.

I don't like being told what to do. Gentle nudging, helpful suggestions, even well intentioned advice- they all kick me into a sort of adolescent, contrarian hyper drive. 

This is why I sometimes (read: oftentimes) do things completely counter to my own self interest. 

My mother could probably write an entire book on this subject; though I really, really, really hope she doesn't...

Every now and again, though, that reflexive non-compliance has some small benefits.

Among them: it makes me relatively immune to advertising, cuts down on participation in contrived food holidays, unless they're donut-related (suck it, national nutella day), and means I'll rarely do anything just because I'm supposed to. 

This has all been a overlong way of confessing that I didn't join the masses and take to the grill on the Fourth of July, I slawed instead. 

And it was defiantly glorious.

i grew this. then i ate it.

Watermelon Radish-Kale Slaw with Sugar Snap Peas

(serves 4)

vegetables:

1 bunch watermelon radishes (about 3-4), scrubbed and peeled

1 bunch kale (about 7-8 leaves), I used a mix of red russian and lacanato

2c sugar snap peas, washed and de-stemmed

dressing:

1Tbsp freshly squeezed lemon juice

1Tbsp toasted sesame oil*

2Tsp extra virgin olive oil

1Tbsp rice vinegar

2tsp apple cider vinegar

1/4tsp ground sea salt 

1/4tsp ground black pepper

Whole Wheat Maple-Vanilla Waffles.

how we waffle.

Whole Wheat Maple-Vanilla Waffles

+

45 Hours in Detroit.

syrup IN the waffles.

It's a beautiful city, Detroit.

One that feels like it's just coming back to life. 

Full of characters and character. 

I fell, rather unexpectedly, in love with it.

A quick run-down of the things I did in my all-too-brief time there--

Sat in a restaurant and ate a vegan sandwich a mere 45 minutes after arrival. 

A new personal best.

Slept on, and watched the most spectacular sunset from, the 58th floor of a hotel with floor to ceiling windows.

Had some vegan soul food.

Saw some local hip hop.

Met some interesting people. 

Gazed at some stunning architecture.

Drank beers around a fire pit in the back alley of a bar.

Giddily wandered around Eastern Market on a beautiful Saturday morning- 

had to restrain myself from buying everything.

Ate two vegan hot dogs.

MacGyver-ed my party dress together with a travel kit needle and thread 

like a proper grown-up.

Watched my friends get married in the Diego Rivera mural room at the 

Detroit Institute of Art (WHAT?).

Drank my body weight in dirty martinis, IN A MUSEUM.

Danced A LOT.

Photobooth-ed (it's a verb now).

Rode on a post-wedding party bus to a bar that also served pie.

Stayed up until 4.

Slept for an hour.

Went to the airport.

Boarded the plane home still a *little bit*  drunk from the night before.

Was sad to leave.

I also returned home with a bag of Michigan-milled whole wheat pastry flour.

Not a weird thing to bring home in your checked baggage, right?

Forget snowglobes; foodstuffs are the best souvenir.

I've been saving it for something special.

These waffles are it.

best souvenir.

Whole Wheat Maple-Vanilla Waffles

(serves 2-4)

1Tbsp ground flax seeds + 3Tbsp boiling water

2c whole wheat pastry flour

2tsp baking powder

1/2tsp ground sea salt

1/3c coconut oil, melted

1 1/2c non dairy milk (i prefer walnut or coconut)

2tsp apple cider vinegar

1Tbsp vanilla

2Tbsp maple syrup

Creamy Carrot-Sumac Soup with Crispy Chickpeas and Shallots

sprung?

Creamy Carrot-Sumac Soup 

with Crispy Chickpeas + Shallots

warm enough to thaw my cold winter heart.

It's snowing as I type this. 

It has been spring for 19 days now and it's snowing. 

Half an hour ago I was wearing my heaviest winter coat. And a hat. And gloves.

Yesterday was 65 degrees. Tomorrow will probably feel like summer. 

Ugh.

Little known fact about me-- I will fall down in a spectacularly cartoonish manner at least once a winter. Taking a header on a patch of ice and pitching ass-backwards into a giant snow drift, or an equivalently embarrassing series of events.

But this year was different. 

Not because I spent the previous 11 months mastering my coordination skills, but because there was just too much damn snow.

Feet upon feet upon feet upon feet of snow. 

The sheer volume of which made falling down next to impossible.

Instead I spent two month rattling around endless ice and snow mazes (that used to be sidewalks) like a human pinball. 

Not necessarily better, but much less bruise-inducing.

Then the first day of "spring" came...

I accidentally wandered onto a continent-sized sheet of ice, slipped-- nearly dislocating both knees in the process, and dumped half a bag of groceries directly into the filthiest, deepest puddle of all time. 

And, just to add insult to literal injury, I tried to brace myself on a nearby snow pile but my arm went straight through to the still-frozen ground.

There I was, laying on the sidewalk with one arm stuck up to the shoulder in a pile of slush, one leg bent behind me, on the verge of tears, and wondering how bad it would be if I just slept there that night.

This is what spring in New England does to you.

It leaves you banged up (both in the head and on the body), pushing the borders of unhinged, and in need of some serious comforting.

It's the the soup-iest of soup weather.

bowl therapy.

crispy bits.

Soup:

1lb carrots (about 5-6), coarsely chopped

2 shallots, sliced into very thin rings

2 1/2c cooked chickpeas

4 cloves garlic, finely minced

2Tbsp olive oil

2tsp sea salt

1Tbsp sumac

2Tbsp ground cumin

3Tbsp fresh lemon juice

5-6c water

Toppers:

1c cooked chickpeas

1 shallot, thinly sliced

1Tbsp olive oil

2tsp sumac

2tsp cumin

1Tbsp fresh lemon juice

1-2tsp lemon zest

1/4tsp sea salt

Sugar-Crusted Turmeric Chili Stoneground Cornmeal Donuts

never not donuting.
Sugar-Crusted Turmeric Chili

Stoneground Cornmeal Donuts.

oh, the things you can donut (verb).

This may be hard to believe, but up until fairly recently, donuts didn't interest me much. It was an ill-conceived donut birthday cake project that first stirred something deep inside. The cake was an unmitigated disaster, but it's construction did require the purchase of a certain specialty kitchen item. I expected to use it only once, maybe twice, and then leave it to collect dust on a high shelf somewhere.

Best laid plans...

Not to get all swept up in pastry-based hyperbole, but owning a donut pan has 

CHANGED MY LIFE. 

It was a seismic shift with a hole smack dab in the center.

A new mission, clear as day-- everything in donut form, 

whenever and wherever possible.

seismic.

baking weather.

Sugar-Crusted Turmeric Chili

Stoneground Cornmeal Donuts

(makes one dozen)

Adapted from my Turmeric-Chili Stoneground Corn Muffins recipe. 

Because DONUTS.

dry:

1c all purpose flour

1c stoneground cornmeal

1/3c unrefined sugar

1Tbsp baking powder

1tsp finely ground sea salt

2tsp chili powder

1tsp turmeric

wet:

2Tbsp ground flax seeds

6Tbsp boiling water

1c non dairy milk

1/4c melted unrefined coconut oil + a little extra for greasing the donut pan

1tsp apple cider vinegar

topping:

3-4Tbsp extra sugar

1Tbsp crushed red pepper

72 Hours in NYC

will walk for local produce, good art, and (of course) donuts.
72 Hours in NYC.
(if we're not sleeping, we're probably eating.)

this is art.

 

Late November mother + daughter rituals. Pre-holiday southbound adventures.

A month's worth of walking, talking, eating, and museum going packed into three short days.  

Eat, eat, eat. 

Walk, walk, walk. 

Talk, talk, talk. 

Eat again. Walk again. Talk again. 

It's a trip from which we each need a full week of recovery.

It's the best of all possible traditions.

 

morning highline views.

through the tall grass.

Roasted Carrot-Cabbage Slaw with Lemony Ras el Hanout Dressing.

corrected brassica misconception.

Roasted Carrot-Cabbage Slaw with

Lemony Ras el Hanout Dressing and 

Pomegranate Seeds. 

learn to love. and roast EVERYTHING.

An open letter. 

Dear cabbage, I was wrong about you.
So very wrong and for that I apologize.
It was pop culture that clouded my judgment, like always.
Years of "comedic" bullying jokes made at your expense seeped into my subconscious.
I developed a reflexively negative reaction to the mere mention of you.
My mind clouded with images of old kerchief-ed ladies in slouching knee-highs serving you up, boiled and vaguely stinky.
Or of you drowning in big tupperware bowls full of mayo, warming on picnic tables in the summer sun.
I couldn't see beyond the limitations others imposed on you.
I was weak.
You are so much more than a sad lifeless shell or a vehicle for mayonnaise,
I see that now.
I am awake.
I've been thinking a lot about you lately, about us.
About being open and receptive and allowing the "new" in.
And about my place in your beautiful world.
I see you, cabbage. All of you, the REAL you.
Now let's get dressed up (in our best spice blends) and ride off into the sunset together.

Yours always.

Many thanks to the lovely Christine Dionese of Garden Eats for inviting me to participate in this Our Growing Edge monthly blogger event.
The theme of which is "new kitchen experiences,"
NOT "longwinded love letters to much maligned produce".

cabbage. forever and ever.

Roasted Carrot-Cabbage Slaw 

with Lemony Ras El Hanout Dressing 
and.Pomegranate.

(serves 4-6)

1 lb carrots, halved and cut into 1/4" thick sticks

1 very small head of cabbage (I used purple-tipped savoy, but any variety will do),

quartered de-stemmed and cut into 1/4" thick pieces

1 large shallot, very thinly sliced

1/3c extra virgin olive oil

1 large lemon, zested and juiced

1Tbsp ras el hanout*  

1Tbsp pomegranate molasses

1/4tsp ground sea salt

1/4tsp cracked black pepper

1c fresh pomegranate seeds

Raw Vegan Cashew-Cranberry Cheesecake Bites

because one can only eat so many cookies.

Raw Cranberry-Cashew Cheesecake Bites.

shame-free.

Bake, eat, repeat. My perpetual holiday mantra. Bake the treats. "Quality test" the treats. Second round "quality test' the treats (because this is the very definition of important stuff, folks). Realize I don't have enough treats left to actually give as gifts. Bake the treats again. Feel shame.

I did not break the cycle this season. I did, however, supplement with something raw and full of whole food-y deliciousness and PRETTY.

The most important feature of any food gift.

I quality tested the entire first batch as my gift to you, my dear readers.

And then I made some more.

xoxox





 Raw Vegan Cashew-Cranberry Cheesecake Bites

(makes approximately 12 1" bites)

Crust:

1 1/4c raw walnuts

1 heaping cup pitted medjool dates

1/4c raw flaked coconut, unsweetened

1Tbsp flax seeds

pinch sea salt

Filling:

1 1/4c raw cashews, soaked for 2+ hours and drained

1c raw cranberries

1/2c liquified coconut oil

1/4c agave or maple syrup

1/4tsp sea salt

1.5Tbsp lemon juice

Dark Chocolate-Dipped Candied Citrus with Vanilla Infused Sea Salt

conflicted confections.

Dark Chocolate-Dipped

Candied Navel Orange + Clementine Slices 

with 

Vanilla Infused Sea Salt.

confections gotta be confected.

Apparently today (yesterday, as I post this) is (was) national dipping things in chocolate day, or some equivalently contrived BS foodie holiday. I loathe participating in these things and tend to avoid them like the transparently disingenuous plague they are. Yet here I am, joining in. It really couldn't be avoided. Sometimes confections need to be confected and this was a pre-planned, pre-holiday food gift prep day that just so happened to fall on an unfortunately coincidental calendar square.

But I feel a little tool-y about it all the same...

Addendum-- all previous complaints notwithstanding, if there's ever a national vanilla-infused 

sea salt day, I'm all over it. 

That stuff is worth a cynical and VERY public sacrifice of integrity.

candied.

dipped.

Dark Chocolate-Dipped

Candied Navel Orange and Clementine Slices

with 

Vanilla Infused Sea Salt

(makes about 25 pieces)

3-4 medium sized organic navel oranges +

3-4 organic clementines
(should yield somewhere around 4c, once sliced)

6c water

2c (+ 1-2Tbsp) unrefined sugar

1/2c dark chocolate chips 

2tsp unrefined coconut oil

1Tbsp finely ground sea salt

1/4 fresh vanilla bean pod, halved

Cinnamon-Oat Crumble Stuffed Baked Apples

baking things inside of things.

Cinnamon-Oat Crumble
Stuffed Baked Apples.

again and again and again.

If I read (or consider writing) one more "tis the season" post I may vomit in protest. 

The seasons are changing, leaves are falling, it's cold all the time, we all get it. 

That being said... the "cooking things inside of other things" time of year is inevitably upon us. 

Most of these things inside of things fall into the traditionally squash-based category or the profoundly horrifying category (Turducken, anyone? Of course not, because it's fucking disgusting). 

Now I'm not much of a stuffed squash person and my views on the other thing should be abundantly clear, but there is something about the concept that feels kind of right. 

Putting foods inside of other foods seems appropriate as we're stuffing ourselves inside of long sleeve shirts inside of sweaters inside of coats. 

So bake this cinnamon-oat crumble inside of apples. 

It's like a winter coat for your insides. 

Plus it's a dessert you can eat for breakfast and we all need more of that in our lives these days.

soon to be much less colorful.

fallen.

Cinnamon-Oat Crumble Stuffed Baked Apples

(serves 5-6)

5-6 medium sized apples* (I use a mix of macintosh and cortland)

*make sure the apples will fit tightly into your baking dish, I use a 9" square 

which fits 5-6 depending on their size

1/2c vegan butter

1/2c unrefined sugar

1/4c light brown sugar

1/4c whole wheat pastry flour

3/4c rolled oats

2tsp ground cinnamon

1/2tsp ground sea salt

1tsp vanilla bean paste (extract will work, too)

1Tbsp freshly squeezed lemon juice

*1/4c fresh cranberries, halved (optional)