Beggars Can’t Be Choosers March 16, 2012

I’ve got a big ol’ soft spot for Irish culture.  It goes back to when I read Angela’s Ashes in high school.  One of my favorite books.  Ever.  Frank McCourt’s writing is, to choose an umbrella term, saturating– Irish and American history, culture, religion, tragedy, hilarity, humility, and grayness.  Lots of gray.  Because, well, it is Ireland, and it rains a lot there.  Which would explain my term for McCourt’s style…

His brother Malachy wrote a memoir as well, and I met him at a Borders’ where he was giving a lecture and promoting his book.  Granted, in the shadow of his brother Frank, but hey, at least he was there.  I was at the bookstore randomly when I saw the poster ad for his appearance that afternoon.  I freaked out and decided I’d stick around.  All I remember about Malachy McCourt’s speech was that Rosie O’Donnell would’ve been a more appropriate match to play his mother in the movie adaptation of Angela’s Ashes (versus Emily Watson), and the part where I raised my hand and said something in regards to the Catholic upbringing.  Whatever I said made me feel proud because Mr. McCourt remarked that I was very bright. I think I was about 17.   At the end of the very low key event, he bought me his own book since I didn’t have it.  And signed it, of course.

How often does a writer buy his own book for you?

This Irish-inspired dish has no potatoes.  No cabbage.  No beef or bacon, naturally.  Not even whiskey or Guinness.  (Well, it does have stout, but an American one.)  Because, as Angela McCourt would say to her sons Frank and Malachy, Beggars can’t be choosers. 

I didn’t have any traditional St. Paddy’s Day ingredients on hand (well, carrots and onions kinda count), but thought I should still crank something out.  What is Irish about this recipe is that it’s simple, comforting, resourceful, and Praise the Lard, it’s got beer in-it.

This is one of those non-recipe recipes.  It doesn’t require exact ingredients, measurements, or fancy technique.  So here’s the gist of it.

Vegan Irish-ish Stew

1) Take a veggie protein of your choice.  I had extra firm tofu.  Tempeh or seitan would be extra awesome.  Slice it into stew-appropriate sizes.  Then mix together some some molasses, vegan worcesteshire sauce, and apple cider vinegar.  Taste test your marinade before adding the protein.

2) Then roughly chop some other vegetables.  Whatever you got.  Potatoes (white or sweet), parsnips, beets, leeks, eggplant, butternut squash, leafy greens, etc.  As you can see in the second photo, I used carrots, onions, tomatoes and mushrooms.  Beans would also be good in this stew.

3) Brown your marinated stuffs in olive oil over medium-high heat.  Don’t worry about the marinade sticking to the bottom of the pot.  If you’re using mushrooms, add these after your tofu/tempeh/seitan/whatever has browned, and let those cook.

4) Now it’s time to deglaze.  Beer is actually pretty important to this recipe.  Use a stout.  Henry’s a loser and never finished this one.  It’s a pretty big bottle, and it was about half full.  A regular 12 oz bottle should be enough.  Anywho, pour it in, and start scraping the brown bits from the bottom.  Then add your other veggies, a bay leaf, a bit of thyme, salt and pepper.  If you got some other herbs or spices you wanna use, be my guest.

Let the stew simmer until all the vegetables are tender, about half an hour to forty-five minutes.  Taste and adjust.  Perhaps it’s the work of the marinade, the beer, both, or fairies… but this broth tasted impressively beefy.

If you want to thicken things up, add some starch dissolved in a bit of cold water.  Or, after you’ve browned your protein, stir in a spoonful or two of flour before adding the beer.  If you use potatoes, that will help too.  You can also use a combination of stout and wine for a fruitier flavor.

Enjoy with an Irish beverage, some soda bread, and watch the Secret of Kells.  That movie is awesome.  It has a kitty.  (You could watch Angela’s Ashes, but then you’d get depressed).

Happy St. Patrick’s Day, and don’t drink green beer.  That’s for frat boys.  Plus, it’s probably Budweiser, Coors, or Natural Ice.  Ew.

It’s a Mexican Thing… June 17, 2011

Pineapple is a good start.

(I cheated and picked these out of a Publix fruit salad.)

Then you’re gonna top it with lime juice.

Fresh is preferred, but, y’know…

And then…

A schtickle of chili pepper!

When I was seventeen and went to Mexico to visit family (yes, it’s true, I am half Mexican), one of the most important things I learned was that chili pepper goes with pretty much everything.  One evening after dinner, my aunt and uncle served some pineapple slices.  Then they sprinkled it with a magical condiment, which is made up of dried chili pepper, lime, and salt.  This stuff is Mexico’s answer to salt and pepper, and various brands over there produce it.  Sometimes my dad receives care packages from siblings with lifetime collections of the chili-lime powder.  But of course, it does not last a lifetime in this house.  We’re out, so I may have to venture out to Sedano’s and get some.  Anywho, when I first tried the combination with pineapple, it was epiphanous.  Sweet, spicy, tangy, refreshing.  O.  M.  G.  And they do the chili-and-lime thing with just about any fruit.  Watermelon, mango, apple, papaya.  Pineapple and mango are my favorites.  It’s a great way to wake up in the morning or mid-afternoon when you feel sluggish.  It’s an awesome summertime treat, and is good for digestion and metabolism.

Even the candy in Mexico often has chili pepper in it.  One of my favorite treats is a lollipop made with tamarind and chili.  The tamarind is a naturally sour fruit, but has a hint of molasses-like depth.  It’s whack, but amazing.  Maybe, just for you, I’ll try to find a Mexican grocery store and pick up some authentic goodies.  For now, try the above suggestion.  For reals.

Sweet Wheat June 1, 2011

While we still have our toes dipped further east after talking about sumac, let me do a quickie on something else you’ve probably never heard of.

Samanoo.  As you can see, I’ve just about finished this jar.  Samanoo is a Persian sweet made of wheat sprouts and flour.  It’s a typical Iranian new year treat.  I had never heard of it until I found it next to the honey at a nearby health food store.  I believe the owners are Persian, which is why they must’ve ordered it.  I asked the woman at the counter about it and she said it’s good on bread, fruit, by itself… I think she also said she hadn’t had it in a long time and was glad to find it.  After watching this video on how to make it, it’s no wonder she hadn’t had it in a while– making it at home takes forever.

Samanoo is made by mixing the wheat sprouts and flour with water, then cooking the mixture slowly and with frequent stirring.  Sugar is not needed, but the result is thick, sweet, and smooth, with an interesting flavor that definitely reminds you of grain.  It’s hard to find information on what happens chemically to wheat and water so that they become sweet through cooking.  My educated guess (and for a guess, I’m pretty sure of it) is that first of all, wheat is a carbohydrate.  Carbohydrates are actually sugar compounds, but not necessarily sugar like in candy bars.  Essentially, sugar is just fuel for organisms, and different types of sugar/carbohydrates are often converted by chemical processes.  So, in the case of samanoo, I would guess that the starch in the wheat is broken down by the cooking process, and converted into a simpler type of sugar.  And simple sugars (or simple carbohydrates) tend to be sweeter.

Thus, samanoo.

I’m not sure if you can find this in a middle eastern grocery store, since Persian cuisine is rather different.  But if you want to avoid someone for a few days just tell them you’re busy making this stuff.

“Diet”: the one the other kids don’t want to play with May 25, 2011

I was thinking about this yesterday, after having met the gentleman whose friend was doing the Maple Syrup Diet (kind of a misleading name since you’re not chugging straight maple syrup… now there’s a golden idea!).  The term diet really has become a bit of a dirty word.  On the whole, the word just means the sum of what one eats regularly.  The choices we made about what we put in our mouths used to be more influenced by regional availability, culture, religion, philosophy.  We ate from a limited selection, based on these factors, to sate our hunger.  We might have consumed certain things for a specific purpose, such as to cure an illness or as part of a ritual, but otherwise the whole prospect of food was pretty simple.  Our diets were pretty simple.  Now when we say “diet”, we imply hyperconsciousness about what we eat– “This is part of my diet because it has said physical purpose other than fulfilling my hunger”;  lose weight, build muscle, detox, relieve a condition, etc.  We say the word diet uncomfortably, or with disdain, because it implies that we are restricted.  Or twist it around and you have those who claim they’re happy eating their special foods, that they have will power.  I believe it is the Twinkie, not the pen, that is mightier than the sword.  We spend a lot of time poring over what it is that should go into our bodies.  And those who don’t worry are either very fortunate, or might be in a less-than-favorable physical state.

It shouldn’t be so taxing to just eat.  But at some point in time, or more likely gradually, the advances of the western world gave us such an abundance of choices.  (Well, some of us anyway… you know, the ones closer to the top.)  Not just in food but in everything else.  Vehicles, entertainment, travel, homes, appliances, clothes, pets.  Whoa.  Consumption.  It’s complicated.  The modern world has handed us a double-edged sword.  We got stuff!  And variety!  Lots of it!  Okay, so what do we do with it?  Well, in the spirit of a frat party with too many kegs, chug.  (Yep, just like the maple syrup… ew.)  Seems that that’s what our society did/does as a whole.  Take as much as you can, don’t waste, fill every space, never feel needy of anything.  Luxuries are necessity.  You need colorful, sugar-based cereals.  And white bread.  And bologna (you don’t even really know what bologna is but you’re convinced you need it.  It’s on the grocery list, after all).  Oh, and reduced-fat mayo (what?).  Then comes the over-sized portions, the sedentary life, the weight gain, the lack of energy, the feeling-like-poo-because-I-can’t-poo.  Man.

Now you need an answer.  Atkins to the rescue.  Or maybe just eat lots of cabbage soup.  Pills are fun, too.  You need to go on a diet.  I don’t know when the concept of diet began to change from “what I eat” to “what I’m assigned to eat”, but it’s as early as the late 1800s.  I do know that it has lot to do with our distance from instinct.  Eating out of necessity has become lost.  We eat out of our chaotic culture– to fit our schedules, for convenience, to be thin, to be attractive, trendy, to obey the advertisement, to support a cause.    Even the simplest foods seem to require deep concentration… should I buy the organic apple or the conventional?  And depending on your economic standing, some decisions are more difficult than others, or maybe even non-existent. Oy.

Apparently, our whole society is on a diet.  Low carb, high protein, organic-only, juicing, vegetarian, vegan, raw, macrobiotic. We’re tired of feeling crappy, of being sick, watching agricultural injustices.  Our recent revolution of conscious consumption has turned a lot of us around.  But we’re not calling it a diet anymore, we’re calling it a lifestyle.  It kinda means the same thing as “diet”.  It’s about what you take in from the resources you have in life.  “Lifestyle” just sounds better.  Makes us feel whole.  Obviously, this is no black-and-white issue.  We seem to be phasing out the 80’s conception of a diet (cottage cheese, grapefruit and diet cola), and understanding that it is more than a temporary punishment, that it needs to feel good, and completely doable in the long run.  We still have Jenny Craig and Weight Watchers, people we pay to discipline us.  (How long can anyone really do that?)  But we’re also acquiring a taste for farmer’s markets, gardening in our backyards, cooking from scratch, reading labels.  We’re learning slowly, but surely.  Maybe in my lifetime we’ll all stop being on diets, and go back to just having them.