Raw Zucchini Pasta with Marinara Sauce, à la my Fairy Rawmother

Posted on December 30, 2010 by Hannah

How do you feel about taking a little break from Christmas-themed posts today? Never you fear, I still plan to tell you about the non-pudding dessert I made for Christmas lunch and the restaurant my family went to on Christmas Eve, but I can’t help wanting to change tack for a second.

My original plan had been to post a chocolate review, as chocolate chats have been few and far between on this here blog of late. (“On this here blog of late”: does that sentence sound really convoluted and messy to anyone else? Shame on me.)

But then I received a package in the mail from my Fairy Rawmother, and I simply had to test its contents – a Veggie Twister - out. And then eat the results. And then write about it. And nom nom nom.

Robyn of Girl On Raw is not only my Fairy Rawmother but a wonderful mentor and friend, and so when I recently won a spiraliser on her blog, we were both rather ecstatic about it. Ever since my recent trip to Yong Green Food, which saw me eat raw vegan sushi and raw vegan cheesecake, I’ve been wanting to create some raw meals of my own.

This “Veggie Twister” (warning: a video starts to play at that link) provided the catalyst for my first foray into making a raw vegan main course (BFF, I can see you shaking your head at me in amusement). Furthermore, I’m not ashamed to admit that the dish I created was the perfect dinner to eat on a sweltering hot summer’s night in Canberra, as I sat at the table in shorts and a bikini top with cicadas repeatedly smashing themselves against the flyscreen in an attempt to get closer to the magical, magical electric lights shining down on me.

Seeing as I won this spiraliser on Robyn’s blog, it seemed only fitting that I use oned of her recipes to christen it. I made a few adaptations based on what I had on hand, and I got a thrill out of chopping ingredients which, for so much of my life, have been off limits because of my mum’s allergies (tomatoes, sun-dried tomatoes, and capsicum: you will be mine. Oh, how you will be mine).

My main changes were using parsley instead of basil, and adding in a goodly dose of chilli to counteract the sweetness of the date, which was itself necessary to balance out the acidity of the tomatoes. The chilli is, of course, optional – I used enough to leave my lips tingling, but those of you averse to heat could easily leave it out.

I have to admit that while my interest in raw food stemmed largely from the novelty of it all (dates in my pasta sauce? Coconut butter in my smoothies? Oh, you crazy thing you!), I think the taste is what’s going to make me return to it. There were so many flavours going on in this meal that each bite thrilled me, and I can’t wait to try out more fancy gadgets and new ingredients in the (raw) future.

But you’re just going to have to wait to hear about that.

Raw Zucchini Pasta with Marinara Sauce

Serves 1
Adapted from Girl On Raw

1/4 cup cherry tomatoes
1/4 cup chopped red capsicum
1/4 cup packed fresh parsley (or basil, if you have it on hand)
Slightly under 1/4 cup semi-dried tomatoes
1/2 clove of garlic, crushed
1 pitted Medjool date
1 tb thyme-infused extra virgin olive oil which was a much-appreciated thank you gift from your grandparents for having watered their garden and not killed their plants. Or, you know, whatever olive oil you have in your pantry.
chopped bird’s eye chilli, to taste
salt and pepper
dash apple cider vinegar (which I completely forgot, but I’m putting it in the ingredients list because I think it’d be great)
1 large zucchini, spiralised

1. Place all ingredients (bar the zucchini) in a food processor and pulse until everything is mixed but not pureed, as you want the sauce to retain some texture. Or, if you’re me, use an immersion blender on the ingredients as they sit together in a large bowl. This will cause red and green flecks of tastiness to leap out of the bowl and come to rest in your ringlets, but it’ll all work out eventually.

(Also, the original recipe said to strain the marinara for a little while, but I was hungry and impatient and just served it as is. I’m sorry, Rob!)

2. Top the spiralised zucchini with the marinara, gloat a little in the prettiness and Christmas-colours of your meal, then eat. With relish. (Figurative relish, that is. Not actual condiment relish.)

Vegan and Gluten-Free Chestnut, Apple and Sage Stuffing

Posted on December 29, 2010 by Hannah

About a week before Christmas, I popped over to my parents’ place to tell them about how the dachshund I was house-sitting for had got into my completely zipped-up suitcase (which had been on top of the dining room table) and chewed up a month’s worth of the pill.

He’s just lucky I’m still exceedingly single, or we might have a Bristol Palin situation on our hands.

After I’d finished telling my parents this dachshund-pill-popping story, my mother said “That’s nice. Would you like to choose and make a gluten-free stuffing recipe for Christmas?”

She’s nothing if not a master of the segue.

And I’m nothing if not completely unsure as to whether that’s actually how the conversation went.

Anyhoo, I gleefully acquiesced to my mother’s request, but then I remembered that I’ve never liked stuffing.

I stared piercingly at this mother of mine for several minutes, trying to figure out if she was running a ploy aimed at broadening my taste horizons. Was this simply the first step in a diabolical plan? Was she next going to sneak Christmas pudding into my dinnertime bowl of peas, and glace ginger into my coffee? I wasn’t sure whether to trust her or not.

Then I got over myself. I decided that I’d find a stuffing recipe that looked tasty and then, if I still didn’t like it, I could safely label myself as Completely Anti-Stuffing.

That’s the stuffing on the bottom right. You know, in case you couldn’t work it out. Hmm.

I first scoured the internet for quinoa or millet-based stuffings, but then I remembered a recipe I’d had tucked away in a word document for months, if not years. I honestly don’t know where it came from, so please, whoever created this recipe which I have now adapted, accept my humble thanks for its scrumptiousness.

See what happened there? I admitted that this stuffing was scrumptious.

The reason I chose this recipe was its inclusion of chestnuts, which I love, and the reason I enjoyed it was its inclusion of chestnuts, herbs, and apple, which I love.

As you can see, whilst called a “stuffing”, this creation did not actually get stuffed anywhere. You could try putting it up the tookus of a bird if you’d like, but I’m quite happy with how it turned out simply nestled into a baking dish. After all, this way, it’s not only gluten-free and dairy-free but vegan to boot.

But, really, if tookuses are your thing, go for it.

Vegan and Gluten-Free Chestnut, Apple, and Sage Stuffing

Serves 6-8

2 tb (40g) Nuttelex (or butter/other butter substitute)
1 cup onion, chopped
1 1/2 cups celery, sliced
1/2 cup parsley, chopped
leaves from several sprigs of thyme
shakes of dried oregano, marjoram, garlic powder and whatever else floats your boat. (The original recipe said “poultry seasoning”. I just threw in dried herbs)
1/4 tsp black pepper (I estimated this. But the more pepper the better, in my opinion)
1 1/4 cups (200g) roasted chestnuts, chopped (I used vacuum-packed cooked chestnuts)
1 medium apple, chopped (I used a Granny Smith)
5 leaves fresh sage, chopped
1 – 1 1/4 cups vegetable broth
6 cups (260g) gluten-free bread with crusts cut off, cut into small cubes (weight is post-decrusting)

1. Preheat oven to 200°C (400°F).

2. In a medium, heavy-based saucepan, melt the Nuttelex. Add the onion, celery, parsley, thyme and dried herbs. Sauté until tender, about 5 minutes.

3. Add pepper, chestnuts, apple, and half of the sage. Sauté until tender, again about 5 minutes. Add the vegetable broth and bring to the boil, then reduce to a simmer. Fold in the bread cubes and stir gently, letting the bread soak up the broth without it dissolving into mush. If the stuffing is looking too dry, add more stock.

4. Fold in the rest of the sage, then transfer the stuffing to a casserole dish. Cover with foil, and bake for 25 minutes. If you want to crisp the top up a little, remove the foil for the last five minutes.

5. Sing “Chestnuuuuuuts roasting in an open oven…. Jack Frost nipping at your other-hemisphere-of-the-world…” I promise, your family will love you for the impromptu concert.

We Are Not Amuse[d]: Chilled Cucumber and Avocado Soup with Spicy Crab

Posted on December 27, 2010 by Hannah

Lies! Filthy lies!

We were totally amuse[d].

And by amuse[d], of course, I mean that on Christmas Day my family started off our celebrations with a delicious, creamy, summery, and almost-vegan amuse bouche.

Lies!

The day didn’t start with an amuse bouche. That would be ridiculous. Who wants to eat a coconut, avocado, and cucumber soup as soon as they’ve woken up? Even if such soup is wonderfully refreshing on a hot day. (Yes, that’s right, Northern Hemisphere readers. Down here in Australia, we get sunburnt on Christmas.)

The day really started like this: at my parents’ place, my brother, mum, and dad arose and had croissants with coffee. Meanwhile, across town, I slept. Then, like a crazy person, my brother went for a run while my mother probably did yoga. Still, I slept. Then I rolled out of bed, topped my porridge with Nutella and peanut butter chips, ate it, and drove to my parents’ house.

For the first time in 23 years, all four (five, including the dog) members of my family were cooking in the kitchen at once. Dad was collecting crab meat for the amuse bouche, Mum was working on a salad, I was getting started on the stuffing, and my brother was making a scarily potent egg nog, the drinking of which was like getting roofied.

*insert inappropriate joke about football players here*

After the requisite showering and putting on of my New Dress From Florence Which I Was Rather Excited About Wearing, my grandparents and great aunt arrived. Greetings and hugs were had, antipasti were consumed, and then we were amuse[d].

This Cucumber and Avocado Soup with Chilli Crab is a subtle yet zingy, creamy yet cooling, coconutty yet spicy cold soup which, without the crab garnish, would be vegan. I’ve been considering vegan alternatives for the garnish, and at the moment I’m thinking some chilli-roasted pepitas and a sprinkling of fresh coriander would do nicely.

But do you know what does even more nicely than almost-vegan amuse bouches? Opening Christmas stockings.

My mum is the stocking-stuffing master, and I’ve long thought that exploring my stocking is one of my favourite parts of Christmas day.

Particularly because, as I believe I’ve mentioned before, my brother and I don’t get stockings.

We get pillowcases.

Yes, I’m wearing a necklace made of Christmas lights. It was a festive gift from my great aunt, and it enabled me to spend the entire day flashing everyone. *giggle*

Chilled Cucumber and Avocado Soup Shots with Spicy Crab

From Delicious magazine. Original recipe said this would make 8 shots, but we got far more than that out of it. Unless, of course, by “shots” they meant “mugs”, but I would assume Delicious has better proof-readers than that. Where was I?

1 telegraph cucumber, peeled and deseeded, roughly chopped
1 avocado, flesh roughly chopped
4 spring onions, roughly chopped
3 tb (60ml) lime juice
3 tb chopped coriander leaves
1 cup (250ml) coconut cream
1 tb canola oil
2 tsp sambal oelek
1 cup fresh crabmeat (we bought a small crab, and got nowhere near 1 cup of meat out of it. However, we had more than enough crab for 8 shots. I’m becoming more and more convinced that Delicious was making shots for giants who live up beanstalks.)

1. Place cucumber, avocado, spring onion, 2 tb lime juice and 2 tb coriander in a blender with 1 cup (250ml) iced water. Season, then blend until smooth.

2. Transfer to a large bowl. Stir in the coconut cream and adjust seasoning to taste. Chill for at least 30 minutes.

3. Combine the oil, sambal oelek, crab and remaining 1 tb lime juice in a bowl. Finely chop the remaining 1 tb coriander leaves and add the crab mixture (the more astute of you might notice that we forgot the coriander part of the crab garnish. Shh, don’t tell the giants or they’ll eat our babies). Season well with salt, then stir to combine.

4. Serve the soup in small cups or shot glasses, topped with a spoonful of spicy crab. Then either open your Christmas stockings, or move directly onto the presents under the tree. Good times, good times.

I’m On A Horse

Posted on December 26, 2010 by Hannah

Christmas was lovely. And wonderful. And full of happy. And lovingness. And food. And food. There was food. And food.

I’m fairly sure I’ll be sharing my family’s Christmas munchies with you over the next few days, but seeing as I just finished eating rather a lot of leftovers (my wheat-free vegan chestnut stuffing was even better cold than warm) and my tummy feels like galumph, I thought I’d start the Christmas posts with a story about the present I gave my brother.

I gave him a Trail Ride.

When my brother, E.TeacherLord, and I were driving to Barwon Heads for our SeaChange lunch a few weeks ago, I discovered that he had never before ridden a horse. I did a semester of riding when I was 12 years old, and I’ve harboured a secret desire to be a Horse Person ever since.

(But I promise you, I was thinking only of my brother when I booked a trail ride for us at a local riding school in Canberra.

Cross my heart.)

I think the above photo captured the precise moment when my brother started to wish he was a Horse Person too.

Actually, maybe he just wants to be a cowboy. With a lasso, a saloon to go to afterwards, and a wench to bring him a flagon of ale. (Do cowboys drink flagons of ale? Do flagons of ale exist? Signed, the girl who drinks mineral water.)

I, on the other hand, was simply blurrily excited about getting back on a horsie for the first time in over ten years.

My horse was called Pokey. He was a real gentleman, and I completely understood his need to grab at food whenever the opportunity presented itself. If I were a horse, I’d rather stop and eat grass than carry me around too.

As you can see, I got on my horse with grace and style. Just so you know, that girl was only helping me up because she wanted to learn my magic horse-riding tricks, not because she had to tell me what to do with my legs. Yep.

However, someone probably should have told my brother what to do with his legs. You see, after I and two other people had got on our steeds, it was my brother’s turn to mount.

Stories differ, but all I know is this: I and the other two people got on our horses smoothly and with a minimum of fuss, but my brother? When he got on his horse, he managed to give the creature a swift and hearty kick to the flanks which led the horse to do some sort of crazy-big all-four-legs-in-the-air-at-once forward-jump-almost-buck. The two young girls leading our trail ride yelped, Evan yelped, the horse skittered, and I laughed.

Oh, how I laughed.

My brother, bless his handsome face, has always been a bit of an attention seeker.

(I think it’s the American in him. Swish! I jest, Americans. You know I love you.)

The trail ride was an hour of wonderment, and I hope I’m not speaking out of turn when I say that E.TeacherLord and I both enjoyed ourselves muchly. We did differ when it came to trotting, though, as I ecstatically cried “yes!” every time we were asked if we wanted to trot, and my brother was conspicuously silent on the matter.

For me, those brief moments when our horses sped up, when my decade-old lessons came back to me and I was able to be in sync with my horse’s movements, when the air swept past my face and my horse didn’t stop to snatch at the leaves of trees, were utterly wonderful. Embarrassingly enough, I wouldn’t be lying if I said that I beamed and even laughed aloud during these moments, but even that was nothing to the yayness of knowing my brother was enjoying the horse-riding experience too.

After all, he was on a horse.

Merry Christmas, E. Next time, we gallop like the wind.

Merry Christmas with Brigadeiros

Posted on December 24, 2010 by Hannah

This is my Christmas post.

Because it felt wrong to leave you with a story about spiders.

Because I made Brigadeiros.

Because I first ate Brigadeiros at my Brazilian neighbour’s house, soon after she fed me barbecued chicken hearts. At the time, I much preferred the silky, slighty-chewy, rich, sweetened-condensed-milk-and-cocoa truffles to the offal.

I still do.

Because Christmas is a time of giving, and I made these for the charming C.ZineLady. Six months ago, she was a student of mine, and now she’s a very dear friend. Who is awesome.

Because one can never have too many tried-and-true recipes up one’s sleeve for last-minute holiday baking.

Because I like you guys a lot.

Because I hope your Christmases (Christmasi?) are just a sweet as these chocolate fudge truffles, even if you don’t celebrate Christmas.

Because one Christmas many years ago, my late great uncle Peaches* took his spoon out of his coffee mug and, to test the temperature of the coffee, put the spoon directly onto my forearm.

Because the coffee was almost at boiling temperature and the spoon so hot on my arm that I cried, and because I wish Peaches was still here so that I could tell him I find the scenario hilarious now.

Because before opening our real presents, my brother and I don’t get stockings full of treats. We get pillowcases.

Because there’s something comforting in the sound (tradition) of my parents stressing out in the kitchen about making sure the turkey and vegetables are ready at the same time.

Because I can’t stand Christmas Pudding, so this year I’m making raspberry granita. And because I hope it works.

Because, most of all, Merry Christmas.

Brigadeiros

Recipe from here
Makes 12 -20, depending on the size of your balls.

400g can sweetened condensed milk
3 tb (60ml) cocoa powder
pinch salt
2.5 tb (50g) unsalted butter, chopped
1 tsp vanilla extract
sprinkles, to decorate

1. In a heavy-based saucepan over medium heat, stir together the sweetened condensed milk, cocoa, and salt. Keep stirring for about 15 minutes, until mixture holds the trail when you run a spoon through it.

2. Add the butter and vanilla, and keep stirring until both have melted/incorporated though the fudge mixture, which by now should be glossy and thick.

3. Pour (well, scrape is probably the more accurate term) the fudge mixture into a glass/pyrex/baking dish, cover with foil or gladwrap and put in the fridge for about an hour.

4. While watching the final episode of the BBC Pride and Prejudice with your mother (having banished your non-appreciative brother to another room of the house), roll spoonfuls (2 tsp? 1 tb? Your call) of the mixture into balls, then roll in sprinkles.

5. Many of the recipes I looked at said to use chocolate sprinkles. I’ve always hated those faux-chocolate travesties, though, so went for multicoloured sprinkles instead. This isn’t really part of the recipe instructions.

6. Put each brigadeiro into a mini muffin case, then store in the fridge until the lure of sweet, sweet condensed milk goodness becomes too much.

7. And have a Merry Christmas. Really.

* I should probably tell you that story some time. Suffice to say my great uncle’s “Peaches” nickname was more of sign of my strangeness than his.

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Monthly Archives: December 2010