Watercress and Roasted Golden Beet Salad

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Biodiversity in edible plants is crucial to the future of food and to our survival, and the more varieties we can cultivate the better protected we are from blights and famine. But what I really like about biodiversity is the sheer beauty of it--the panoply of tastes, textures, aromas, colors, and shape variations that abound in nature. It's absolutely thrilling to me as a cook that even after 30-plus years wandering markets and working with food, I'm still coming across new forms of edible plants.

Recently I found a gorgeous variety of watercress I had never seen before--a dark, almost black-looking red leaf with bright green stems and veins. Typically, watercress bunches are fairly worn-looking, since unlike most produce, it lives and grows in water, and it doesn't last long after being severed from its lifeline. I've taken to buying hydroponic watercress for this very reason, even though I much prefer the more potent and peppery leaves of stream-grown cress. This bunch I found was remarkably fresh, so I naturally I snapped it up and used it the same day.

I decided to keep the salad very simple, to showcase the beauty of these unique zinfandel-red leaves as well as their flavor. I paired their slightly bitter taste with roasted golden beets--roasting brings out the sweetness of beets, and concentrates their beetiness.

The dressing needed to be unobtrusive as possible, while still providing a bright foil to set off the two dramatically different ingredients. It was quick and easy. I just whisked together a little sherry vinegar, Dijon mustard, walnut oil, salt and pepper. Once I had carefully tossed and tasted the salad, I decided to add a few walnuts--to provide an extra crunch factor, to add a nutty-bitter-unctuous counterpoint to the peppery-bitter-astringent leaves, and to tie in the walnut oil, which might otherwise have gone unnoticed.

I have to say, a large part of the pleasure of finding and using unusual produce lies in the uncertainty of ever seeing it again, let alone savoring its one-of-a-kind sensual messaging. Gold and precious stones owe their value to the same fundamental element--rarity--but edible plants are among the most ephemeral of pleasures, appearing so brightly on the plate and on the palate, and lasting so, so briefly, very possibly never to return again.

Whether you believe in a wise and kind creator, or in a happenstance existence with no inherent purpose, one thing is undeniable: the chance to be alive as a human being is a most exquisite gift--unsurpassed or even equaled, as far as anyone can see, or even imagine!

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Back In Action--Finally?

I hesitate to make any sort of predictions that involve technology, but it does look like my computer is really fixed this time--after four months of "repairs" that lasted a day or two before the freezing and crashing resumed. I now have a new motherboard and high hopes!

In other good news, it turns out I don't have thyroid cancer after all! Of course, they had to take out half my thyroid to figure this out, but hey--I still have the other half, and I'm told I'll be able to function normally on just one lobe (eventually).

Also:

My April column on One Green Planet Is "Permitted" Enough?  is up and ready for viewing.

And I have two food articles in the April issue of Delicious Living Magazine (and one of my dishes made the cover!). Pick up a free copy at your local health food store--or if  they don't carry it, ask them why!  

Plus: I have a new project that I've been working on these last four months (with and without that unreliable computer) that is almost ready to launch (pretty exciting).

Hint: This will be good for vegans, non-vegans who want to try vegan, and vegans who want to help friends and family try vegan.

Stay tuned! I'm back in action--finally!

Where Compassion Begins

I can't believe I've let a month go by without a single post. Not that I haven't thought about it, but a few factors have intervened--I've been working on some new projects, including a webinar that will be released soon, called "The Occasional Vegan." I've also had to send my computer in to be repaired/debugged/whatever-ed over twelve times since December! At any rate, no excuses (and no, the title wasn't a plea for readers to forgive my lapse), I'm back at it and really glad to be! 

In case you missed it, here's the link to my March column on One Green Planet:

http://www.onegreenplanet.org/animalsandnature/where-compassion-begins/

Let me know what you think!


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Of Food and Medicine

My sharp-eyed readers will have noticed that I haven't posted in a good while. Thanks for coming back to check on me!

I've been working on several demanding projects, including a webinar production called "The Occasional Vegan" (I'll put up the link as soon as it's ready to launch).

I did manage to squeeze in my monthly column for One Green Planet, which just went up today.

I took my inspiration for the piece from Paula Deen's recent scrape with reality.

Ever since the cause-and-effect relationship between what I eat and how I feel became clear to me (I know--DUH, right?), I've been on an upward trend that has me not only eating plant-based food exclusively, but making better-informed choices within that realm.

So it's a little jarring when I see someone who has suffered both weight gain and diet-related disease go on national television and act like there is no connection. Not backing away one bit from the excessively unhealthy fare she dishes up, Ms. Deen now recommends "moderation," a term as meaningless and easy to fudge as "a balanced diet." Like so many Americans, her solution to the problem is to take a drug and just keep on going. I much prefer the "Forks Over Knives" approach, but that's just me. Food is so much more fun than medical intervention, let's face it.

You can read my take on all this here: http://www.onegreenplanet.org/vegan-health/of-cooks-and-doctors-the-food-and-medicine-connection/  and let me know what you think.

I've also been creating more new dishes lately, and I'll be posting about them in the days ahead. Thanks for following!

My First Time Sprouting Lentils

Back in the days of hippiedom and the unusually earthy cuisine that grew up around it, sprouting was all the rage. And say what you may about most of said cuisine, a few things not only stuck, but joined the mainstream. Sprouting seeds for food is such an easy process, and if you're paying attention even just a little bit, quite miraculous. All you really do is soak them, drain them, and rinse and drain twice a day, and in a few short days you have a tangle of superfood tendrils. Brilliant, life is.

I had sprouted several seed varieties in my time, but for some reason I never tried lentils until recently. Then I came upon a nearly empty bag of very small tan colored lentils (an heirloom variety whose name unfortunately eludes me now), too few to bother cooking. So I decided to sprout them. They took a total of three days to reach their peak, and I seized the occasion to make a quick salad.

I wanted something that would showcase the lentil sprouts without distracting from them too much, so I picked only two vegetables to pair them with, red onion and beet. I sliced the onion thinly, grated the beet, and combined them with the sprouted lentils. I happened to have a fair amount of leftover balsamic vinaigrette in the refrigerator, so rather than start over and make a new dressing, I went ahead and tossed it into the salad. I had actually had in mind a sort of mustardy vinaigrette, but the beets played quite well with the rich 18-year old balsamic, and the resulting sweetness of the salad made a pleasant foil for the starchy-raw mouthfeel of those young lentil-lifeforms. My only possible complaint would be that I didn't have more of it.

If I manage to recall the name of those lentils, I'll definitely order them again and try a few other applications. Sprouting is fun. It's like gardening for the ADD-afflicted.

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Brown Rice Pasta

Brown Rice Ziti with Spicy Tomatoes and Basil

The recipes in the cookbook I'm working on now will not only be vegan, but gluten-free as well. Actually, come to think of it, nearly all of the recipes in Speed Vegan are gluten-free. I didn't set out to do this; it just turned out that way because I was steering clear of refined carbs.

In the process of trying new foods to use in the book, I discovered brown rice pasta, and in spite of a longstanding dislike of whole grain pastas, I decided to give it a shot. Good call. Brown rice pasta is the only kind I've ever tried that comes even vaguely close to the durum wheat pasta everyone loves. It cooks up al dente, it doesn't fall apart, it's not grainy, and it tastes an awful lot like "the real thing." It's absolutely the only one I'll willingly eat.

Last night, I had a hankering for comfort food--the kind that normally brings with it some health compromise, like mashed potatoes with butter and heavy cream. I've taken this sort of thing up as a challenge; I shoot for maximum pleasure with virtually no downside. For me, pasta is (or at least can be) a tremendously comforting thing to eat, evoking moments of sublime enjoyment from my past.

Among the top ten iconic pasta sauces is tomato and basil. Spaghetti is the classic shape for this, but I chose ziti, which the manufacturers of brown rice  pasta for some reason call penne (a glaring misnomer, since "penne" means "pens," owing to the quill-shaped tips). Americans.

The sauce is ridiculously easy to make, but it does have one or two potential pitfalls--not the least of which is burning the garlic. The safest way to do it is to put some olive oil in a cold pan and add several cloves of garlic, thinly sliced, and a few dried red chiles. Turn on the heat and swirl the pan until the garlic is just beginning to turn a tan color. Immediately add chopped Italian tomatoes, salt and pepper, and cook just about four minutes; the tomatoes should retain a little fresh taste, and the sauce should not be too thick. Remove from the heat and stir in a hefty handful of coarsely chopped basil. This whole process can be executed while the pasta cooks.

When the pasta is done, drain, but keep a little of the cooking liquid in the pot. Return the pasta to the pot and add the sauce. Swirl and toss to coat the pasta thoroughly. Eat. At this point you'll be in a position to understand why I like tube shapes with tomato sauce. Don't get me wrong, I do like spaghetti, but there is something about air passing through the juicy tubes, lifting and transporting microscopic bits of aromatic flavor across your palate as you slurp and chew that really awakens the Italian in me.

One note about the water pasta is boiled in: according to Frank Sinatra (rest in peace), it should have enough salt to make it taste like sea water. He was right. I know that sounds like an awful lot of salt, but most of it goes down the drain anyway, and it gives the pasta a delicious flavor in its own right, even without a sauce. You never know what you'll learn from people.

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Carrot-Cardamom Rice with Saffron

I know, I know--white rice isn't that great for you. And I know this is going to sound like a rationalization (partly because it pretty much is), but I make a fairly rare exception for basmati rice. First, true basmati rice is processed by hand, and unlike polished rice, retains a glimmer of its erstwhile brownness. Second, for some dishes, there truly is no substitute. Third, just the smell of basmati cooking that wafts through the house is freaking heavenly. Fourth, because I eat it about once a month on average, I make it count. So there. Rationalization complete.

As an example of a rice dish for which I contend that there is no comparable grain--at least no whole-grain, "healthy" one--let me explain this simple little dish I came up with the other day:

First, as always, the rice needs to be rinsed several times, until the rinsing water runs clear. This must be done very gently, to avoid breaking the fragile grains. Basmati swells lengthwise as it cooks, into elegant fluffy white fingers, so it's important not to damage them. That's the most laborious task in making this full-flavored rice.

Once the rice was washed, all I did was put it in a small pot and add the remaining ingredients: water, carrot juice, a few lightly crushed cardamom pods, a pinch of saffron, a little salt, and a small gob of  coconut oil. Then I brought it to a boil as usual, turned the heat down to the lowest setting, covered the pot, and cooked the rice for 15 minutes. At a lower elevation--like sea level--I would use a quarter less liquid and cook it for 12 minutes. Once done, I slid a silicone spatula under the rice and fluffed it very lightly. That's it!

The coconut oil helps keep the grains from clinging to one another, producing a lighter, much more appealing result than the same effort would without it. Brown basmati is a wonderful whole grain, and I do use it far more often than white basmati, but it would never absorb the flavors in this dish the same way, nor even close to the same extent. Think of painting with watercolors on a white canvas versus a grey or brown one--and then add the dimensions of texture, flavor and aroma!

I served this alongside a spicy dish of lentils and curried cauliflower and peas. And yes, I know I could have enjoyed the latter two with brown rice, but come on--nowhere near as much! The way I see it, if you eat something that's less than ideal health-wise but way up the charts enjoyment-wise, and you eat it very rarely, it does you much more good than harm. That's my theory and I'm sticking to it. No one has ever proven it wrong yet.

What do you think?