Such a seemingly handy little card, is this. And yet in all these years I’ve never used it once, not even when I could fearlessly eat gluten without a care in the world, when the words “All Purpose Flour” didn’t send a shiver through my very soul.

It’s useless to me, so I give it to you, dear readers. Go forth and bake. I’m curious to know if the card even works – let me know, will you?

(Clicking on the image will take you to the big version).

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I whipped this up in the Vita-Mix this afternoon. It has a lovely rich green color and tastes very good, not nearly as “grassy” as other smoothies of its kind – I think this might be the dates adding some subtle but powerful sweetness. I’m going to experiment with dates some more.

In a Vita-Mix container (or your regular blender), put:

• 1 1/4 water (I just eyeball it from the measurements on the container)
• 2-3 large leaves of kale
• 5 dates (see note about sugar, below)
• 1 ripe pear
• 1 banana

Blend the whole thing on HIGH, adding a few ice cubes if it gets warm. Mine makes two full 8 oz glasses. Each glass is about 200 calories, and contains 3.9 grams of protein, 7.6 grams of fiber, and 22 grams of sugar. It also contains 769mg of potassium, and all the Vitamin C you’ll need for the day.

The sugar seems pretty high, especially when you consider I drank both glasses in about an hour, so I’ll try adding fewer dates next time and see if I can retain that delicious flavor.

I’ve been having this (or a slight variation) most mornings since I got my juicer, and I’ve noticed a few things changing. My taste for vegetables has increased dramatically. You know how in restaurants your meal often has a side of veggies, sauteed with some herbs? Well, I never used to that, and now I frequently do. I’m embarrassed to admit it, and it sounds so ridiculous, but I grew up eating so much sugar that the idea of a side of sauteed zucchini was like handing me a plate of dirt. Drinking fresh green vegetable juice almost every day has really changed that.

I’ve also noticed that if I drink juice first thing, I tend to crave less sugary foods later. An hour after my juice, I’ll be heading back into the kitchen with thoughts of fruit or some brown rice or a salad on my mind. If I eat some Apple Jacks and rice milk for breakfast, an hour later I’m back in the kitchen foraging for a cookie, or some more sugary cereal, or toast with honey.

They key here is not to label JUICE GOOD and SUGAR BAD. The key, at least for my body, is that one thing tends to lead to another. Some days, I just want the Apple Jacks, and that’s okay, and I eat them, and I know that I’ll crave sugar later because of that. But I like knowing that the juice, along with being incredibly good for my body, will give me a head start on making good choices that day. Instead of laying down strict rules for myself, I choose in the moment where I want to aim. This is why I reject diets and eating programs. I think knowing yourself is more important then following rules. As silly as it might sound, juicing fresh vegetables has taught me a lot about myself.

For some reason, I grabbed my little camera and decided to make a movie of the soup. That’s right, a movie. OF SOUP. Because my dogs wouldn’t fart on command, and you know that has to be more interesting than a movie about soup, right? You might be right. This is maybe the dorkiest cooking soup trilogy out there on the internet right now, which heck, I’m honored to be a part of. If it’s dorky, I’m in. Speaking of which, I would like to thank my good friend Sonja, who is the first person I’d ever heard utter the word dorkumentary, illustrating once again both her own dorkiness, and why I adore her.

Here’s the recipe, without Unwisely’s commentary (which was good, and I should have read it first, because then I would have known what the heck to do with a leek – see movie #1).

Ginger Lentil Stew

1 cup chopped leeks, white and light green parts (about 1 small leek)
1/2 unpeeled carrot, diced
2 celery stalks, diced
1 T olive oil
1 T minced fresh ginger
1 T minced garlic
3 cups veggie stock
1 cup lentils, preferably French green lentils
1 t ground cumin, preferably roasted
1/4 t freshly ground black pepper
1/4 t salt
2 T soy sauce

1. In a large, heavy-bottom saucepan, sauté the leeks, carrot, and celery in the olive oil over medium heat until they begin to wilt, 5 to 8 minutes. Add the ginger and garlic and sauté for 2 minutes.

2. Stir in the stock, lentils, cumin, and pepper. Cover and cook for 30 minutes.

3. Add the salt and soy sauce and cook until the lentils are soft, another 15 to 30 minutes. Serve with Rice.

The stew can be prepared up to 2 days ahead and refrigerated.

We’ll be eating this for the next couple days, and I’m tucking this recipe away as a weekly meal! Thanks Unwisely! Not so unwise after all! 

Here’s the rest of Unwisely’s soup commentary (which you can also read in their comment to the soup question here), in case you decide to make some for yourself:

OK. I *always* double this (sort of – more like 2.5-3x, but I don’t worry about excess veggies, I just throw them in). As to the ingredients, I usually use way more carrots than that – I’ll buy a small bag and throw them all in. I don’t mess with dicing them, though. Just into carrot coins. (It’s stew, it’ll be mushy.) I have skipped the celery, it doesn’t seem to matter. Oh, and I use the leeks all the way up to where the tips of the leaves get gross.

I adore ginger, and the first time I made this recipe I was actually pretty faithful, but doubled the ginger…and I couldn’t taste the ginger at all. So now I don’t bother with it. I add the garlic if I have it, but if I don’t, I sprinkle garlic powder or skip it. I never have stock, I just use water + maybe a veggie boullion cube or two. (I skip the salt.) Am liberal with the teaspoons of cumin. (Which I don’t roast, because I am lazy and not that classy anyway.)

OK, so, when it gets to the adding soy sauce part, I add it plus an equal amount of vinegar. (Plain white vinegar.) This makes it sort of like the yummy yummy lentil stew we made in Germany, except vegetarian. At the end, I taste it, and if it lacks salt, I add more soy sauce. Then I mix in some short-grained brown rice (which I was cleverly cooking while this was bubbling) until it looks about right. Then I decant into individual containers and freeze some and take it in to work all week and gross out my coworkers. Yum.

A few days ago I made this recipe from the book, Fresh from the Vegetarian Slow Cooker: 200 Recipes for Healthy and Hearty One-Pot Meals That Are Ready When You Are. The author, Robin Robertson, has a website called Global Vegan Kitchen, and a blog; Vegan Planet (lots of other recipes here!). I’m sure I’ll be visiting both frequently.

I was stunned at how delicious this chili was, and so was non-vegan Greg. I guess I’d never thought of lentils as being something you’d put in a chili, but man, give it a shot.

Sweet and Spicy Lentil Chili

From: Fresh from the Vegetarian Slow Cooker, by Robin Robertson

1 T olive oil
1 large sweet yellow onion, chopped
1 small red bell pepper, seeded and chopped
2 garlic cloves, minced
2 T chili powder, or to taste
1 1/2 C dried brown lentils, picked over and rinsed
One 28-ounce can crushed tomatoes
1/3 C dark unsulfured molasses
1/2 t ground allspice
Cayenne pepper to taste
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 C water
1 C apple juice

1. Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the onion, bell pepper, and garlic, cover, and cook until softened, about 5 minutes. Stir in the chili powder and cook 30 seconds longer.

2. Transfer the mixture to a 4-quart slow cooker. Add the lentils, tomatoes, molasses, and allspice and season with the cayenne, salt, and black pepper. Stir in the water and apple juice, cover, and cook on Low for 8 hours. Add more water if the chili gets too thick.

My notes:

I used a white onion because I didn’t have a yellow one, and it didn’t seem to matter. I thought that a whole tablespoon of chili powder was insanity, but I did it anyway, and it was incredibly delicious. Moments like that I realize what  novice cook I am – Robin clearly knows what she’s doing. I completely forgot about salt and pepper, and I used orange lentils because I couldn’t find the dark ones I thought I’d put in my pantry. It didn’t matter: STILL YUMMY.

But then I go to look this up, and find a whole bunch of confusing information. Like how tons of food bloggers seem to do this all the time (both with and without citing sources), and how several people have told me that you can re-post a recipe as long as you change the description of how the thing is made, because only the ingredients are copyrighted. Uh yeah, okay, but isn’t that still basically COPYING THE RECIPE? I mean, if someone took one of my recipes and posted the list of ingredients and then made a description different than mine and thought now it’s theirs, well, I’d have to kick their ass. Compassionately, of course.

Another source says that you can copy “two or three” recipes out of a book, that this is like an excerpt, but like with a novel, you can’t copy whole chapters or large portions without violating copyright. As long as you cite the book, then you’re okay.

What’s the real answer?

Hollie’s Fabulously Easy Croutons

You’ll need:

A baguette (white or whole grain)
Some oil of your choice (I love sesame or olive)
Some garlic salt

That’s it. That’s all I put on mine. I figure I have enough variety with salads not to go making super fancy croutons. These taste delicious and they get the job done. And by “job”, I mean, “suitable crunch”.

Using a sharp bread knife that won’t make your hand hurt after three slices (mental note: add “bread knife” to birthday list), slice up your baguette into chunks:

Lay the chunks out on a pan, and the spray them with oil. I use a Misto for mine, filled with either sesame or olive oil. Don’t use PAM, okay? Just don’t do it. You’re basically spraying your bread with propellents, not to mention figuring out how to dispose of your aerosol cans, which can be a real PITA.

You can also just fling olive oil right out of the bottle all over them, or put them in a bowl first, pour over some oil, and then hand-toss them. I find this way needs a lot more oil. The Misto does a great job.

As a final finish, add some garlic salt! I do one pass over with the shaker. Sometimes two if the chunks of bread are bigger than usual.

Stick that pan in a 350-degree oven for about 15 minutes. Check to see how they’re doing. I end up going anywhere between 15-25 minutes, depending on the quality of the bread (fresh takes longer than day-old).

I like mine lightly toasted, while others might like theirs darker. Here’s what my pan look like when done:

YUM!

I store my croutons in a plastic tub in the pantry. They last for at least three weeks, often longer. Throw them out when they smell stale. They won’t get moldy, but they’ll start to smell a bit old.

Now get some romaine lettuce and some sesame-ginger dressing, and you’re in business!

Tonight’s remedy: a green smoothie before bed. Specifically about 32 ounces. I began to notice this “medicinal” effect of green smoothies after I’d been drinking them for awhile and then tapered off. I’d start to feel worn down, overwhelmed, and my body would feel achey and slow. If I made a green smoothie before bed and drank a ton of it right before I went to sleep, I woke up feeling like someone sprayed me down with Awesome.

Another benefit is that it seems to calm whatever sugar cravings I’m having. The trick here, when beginning to realize you’ve had a nutritionally bankrupt period, is to actually go make the smoothie, which means getting oneself out of whatever carb and stress-induced torpor you’ve managed to roll yourself into. Often this involves a trip to the store for fresh kale and fruit, which can feel like oh such a burden when you’re already swamped with plays to read, notes to go over, and homework to make sure your first grader does. In the larger scheme of things, these are small problems, but in the moment they can feel like more than enough to send you back to the couch with your Chips Ahoy and your remote control. Just one more cookie won’t hurt, will it?

But I try to remind myself it’s well worth it. If there were a pill they could make that made me feel this good, the side effects would likely be as ridiculous as the cost, and I’m sure I’d stand in line to get it. Green smoothies are available at any grocery store for maybe $2.50 per quart, and are, in my opinion, nothing less than nutritional magic. The one sitting next to me is half of the following recipe:

Recovery Smoothie

2/3rds a head of kale (usually I use half, but tonight I was feeling green)
2 small satsumas
2 T flax oil
2 T lemon juice
2 pears, one very ripe, one still pretty firm

IT TASTES DELICIOUS. I am not kidding. I know people find this blog and they read “green smoothie”, and say to themselves CUCKOO!, but I’m telling you, it’s fantastic. I’ll drink an entire 32 oz jar before I fall asleep, and then let it work its magic. In the morning, before I go to school, I’ll try to drink the remaining jar, or most of it.

Now if I could just get back to drinking them every day, I might end up like Clent.

Jason got me hooked on these. He’s also responsible for finding the best deep fried green onion pancakes in Seattle (VEGAN! HUZZAH!), and no I’m not telling you where, what you think I want a crowd showing up  when I’m trying to get  my fix? I will tell you where you can get a pomegranate: your local grocery store. They are officially in season. They have them at my Fred Meyer right now, 2 for $7, which is good because then you can hold them both up in front of you, and jiggle them around, and make jokes to your husband about how he’s getting these entertaining sweeties at such a bargain.

And then when he walks away from the produce department pretending he doesn’t know you, you can yell, “But I release tension through humor, baby! HUMOR!”

This is what a pomegranate looks like on the inside:

Anal people – of which I know none, really, I mean absolutely none, not a single one, what, am I belaboring a point here? -  will tell you that you have to open it in such a way as to avoid wasting a single drop of juice. Yeah. Good luck with that. For your first time, I suggest you just get in there and hack that baby in half.

Here you have a hacked-open pomegranate. Mmmmmmm. You know what that is? Pure sugar. About 105 calories of energy, and 25 grams of nature’s crack. Along with natural sugar, you’ll find reams of health benefits to drinking this juice, which the nice people at POM are happy to spell out for you, with studies in fact. I only concentrate on the sugar because IT’S SUGAR, it’s something that is sweet and delicious and will remind you of the best candies, if only candies could taste this good, and yet it’s absolutely good for you. Put down that bowl of Halloween candy (if you even have any left – you might be onto the newly purchased post-Halloween candy), and pick up a pomegranate.

I should be clear here: we’re eating the RED SEEDS. Those delicious nubby little ampules of yumminess, known in the pomegranate world as “arils” (I think I just found the name for my next child). The white stuff? Don’t eat that part.

So how do you separate the arils from the white part? Well, that’s actually pretty easy, if a bit time-consuming. Basically, you just push your finger in there and pop them out, one by one, flicking them off their white backing – after a few minutes of this you can get good enough to just slide your finger along the white and flick them all off POP POP POP POP, into a bowl.

To get to more seeds, after you’ve flicked off the ones you can see, just break apart the fruit gently. It’s easy to do.

Eventually you’ll have a bowl full of arils, and then you’ll want to fill that bowl with some water. This helps any leftover white stuff to float to the top, where you can skim it off, and also to rinse the arils in case any of them were dropped on the floor and picked up via the two-second rule. Also good to know: corgis like pomegranates. Just a little bit of trivia there. You’re welcome.

Voila! Delicious pomegranate! Now drain them if you like (or you can leave them sitting in cool water, good for when you stick them in the fridge, assuming you have any left, which clearly means you didn’t invite me over), and it’s time to eat! Grab a spoon. Stick a spoonful in your mouth, and gently chew. Mmmmmm, exploding goodness! There is a small seed in each aril, and I didn’t think you were supposed to eat those so I was spitting them out into a small bowl, but according to the Pomegranate Council (I am SO joining that when I’m done with the Green Onion Pancake Brigade), the seeds are safe to eat, and give you valuable fiber.

Voila! Go forth and eat fruit!

Let’s just get the crappy picture out of the way:

It’s not fancy, but that’s the most delicious black bean soup we’ve ever made. I can’t remember where I got the original recipe, but I’ve tweaked it a bit, and here it is:

Vegan Black Bean Soup in a Vita-Mix (or other blender)

3 15oz cans of black beans. This equals 6 cups of regular black beans, in case you aren’t using canned. I like to pressure-cook mine, but using canned is just as delicious (and takes a lot less time).

1 3/4 vegetable broth (chicken broth is delicious too, if you eat meat)

1 C salsa (we’ve used fresh, jarred, it’s all yummy)

1/4 t oregano (you can leave this out and not notice the difference. Or you can add more and get a kick)

1/4 t ground chili powder (seriously, ONE QUARTER. unless you’re one of those people who says “five” when the waitress at the thai restaurant asks you how many stars you want)

1-2 T chipotle seasoning (or “chipotle powder” – this stuff is delicious, I’d throw half the bottle in if Greg would let me)

Put 1 cup of your beans into a bowl, and mash them gently, until the beans are all broken but not pureed. You can use a potato masher for this job, or just a fork. Or your hands, or a rock; you get the idea. Just get your mashing on. Set them aside.

Put everything except your bowl of mashed beans into the Vita-Mix. Blend on medium (6-9) until smooth. You want it soupy, not watery – so you can still see some bean bits, but it’s very well blended, and pours out of your container. Pour that mixture into a pot, which you’ll then put on the stove.

Add your mashed beans, and mix it up, to thicken it a bit and give it texture.

You can either heat it right up and eat it, or simmer it for awhile to let the flavors blend. It’s delicious eaten the next day. It’s an incredibly easy soup to make, and one we have once a week during the winter.

Serve with a bowl of tortilla chips. We like the blue corn variety. Also delicious with cornbread, or just some homemade bread. Don’t forget your Beano!

I’m like that when I hear of someone eating raw vegetables at every meal. Frightened, grimly fascinated, and unable to look away.

My Dad, a former television director, was the videographer for the Raw Food Festival that used to take place in Portland, Oregon, and I went with him a couple of years and watched some of the talks. I was impressed with how ALIVE everyone looked. They actually glowed. They look nice in pictures, even super healthy, even beautiful, but in person they are radiant. I wish I were kidding.

I also wish I were kidding about the guy I talked to who tried to convince me if I went raw, eventually I’d be able to stop eating completely and just be able to breathe in my nutrients. I was like, “Dude, aspirating spinach smoothies is so not my idea of a good time,” and he explained that no, I’d be on such a high plane of existence (“Like, DENVER?”), that I’d eventually not need to take in any food at all. I’d just take nutrients from the air.

Yeah. It’s possible his glow didn’t come from raw foods.

So I walked around the festival and tried to find something I could see myself eating. I did find a few things; crackers mostly, and things made in the dehydrator, and that was what got me to purchase an Excalibur a year later. I love that silly dehydrator, I hold it close during all our kitchen-purges, even though I only use it a few times a year. I’m convinced that someday I will eventually use it all the time, you know, someday……when I become a raw-food goddess and start radiating all that happy vegetable energy.

It could happen! I ate a piece of raw pepper the other day and didn’t even make a face!

On that note, I made some raw-food crackers last week. I based them on a recipe in the book, Ironic. And if you’re thinking, “That song was not about irony, it was about unfortunate circumstance,” you are definitely not alone.