Archive for the 'salads' Category
I’ve been on a bit of a corn bread kick lately. Meaning I’ve made two in the past week. The first was to go with black bean soup, and I forgot a key ingredient. It was OK, but not stellar. I figured I could resurrect it as croutons – which worked just fine. Just cube, toss in a bit of oil and bake, and you have croutons with far more character than those made out of plain old white bread.
Check me out, not panicking over the fact that I have maybe a thousand (probably not) friends I haven’t met yet coming over tomorrow. Those of you who are among the potluck attendees, be warned: there are bikes and boots and jackets and reusable shopping bags and a shelf of surplus cookbooks in the front foyer. I have not washed the walls (properly) in eons because at this point it’s easier to just paint the house. The hundred year old house is self-dusting – that is, it produces bunnies and rhinos in all corners (Lou helps) at all times, even right behind me when (if) I do dust. The back yard has turned into a mud bog from all this rain, on patches of lawn that now have no grass – a permanent result of Lou and W potty training at the same time. We cleared out our garage a few weeks ago, and the community clean-up is next week, and meanwhile we have an old fridge and enough other (now soggy) assorted junk waiting in the back yard to possibly qualify us as hoarders. (Are you really a hoarder if you’re trying to get rid of stuff, though?) And yes, there is only one bathroom.
I was on traffic on the early show this morning, and dragged myself through the afternoon. My 13 year old niece wanted to come sit on the counter and talk about boys tonight, and so she did, and she wanted to make cilantro dip – something she had tried at the farmers’ market on a school trip today – but we couldn’t figure out the recipe. So we made chocolate chip cookies, and did something with some of the dough that I’ll tell you about tomorrow, after our creations have set.
For dinner we nibbled and ate salad. I’m not bothering with measurements here, except perhaps in the dressing. Because really, it’s just a salad. I think it would do very well with a ripe avocado, and perhaps topped with a skewer of grilled shrimp.
Green Salad with Corn Bread Croutons
influenced by The Lee Bros. Southern Cookbook, by way of Smitten Kitchen
corn bread, cut into big cubes
canola or olive oil
ripe tomatoes
roughly torn fresh lettuce, such as Bibb, butter or Boston
bitter greens, such as arugula
a bit of purple onion or sweet onion, finely chopped or sliced
buttermilk-lime dressing (below)
Preheat oven to 350°F. Scatter the corn bread in a single layer on a rimmed baking sheet, drizzle with oil and bake for about 10 minutes, until the pieces are pale golden.
Assemble the salad, and drizzle with dressing just before serving.
Buttermilk-Lime Dressing
3/4 cup buttermilk, or half milk, half plain yogurt
juice of a lime (2-3 Tbsp)
2 Tbsp olive oil
1 Tbsp honey
1/4 cup torn fresh basil
1/4 cup torn fresh flat-leaf parsley
2 green onions or a small chunk of purple onion, chopped
salt to taste
Blitz everything in the food processor or blender until well combined.
May 27 2011 | salads | 15 Comments »
Oh how I wish I was the type to fall in love with working out. I do it, but I do not love it. I never regret it though – and generally regret not. Funny how easily I forget that part.
I went to a step class tonight with one of the Eyeopener’s Live Right Now workout groups. It was on the other end of the city, and didn’t start until 7:30. I SO BADLY didn’t want to go. I was tired and headachey. My eyeball hurt. I procrastinated until the minute I should have been walking out the door, then couldn’t find my shoes. (They were buried under a pile of reusable grocery bags.) I grabbed my wallet, trying to pretend that it didn’t occur to me that I’d be alone and Peter’s Drive-In is on the way home. I went. I did it. I kept up. Did I feel great afterwards? Only from stopping all that stepping. Am I glad I went? Hell yeah. I didn’t get a hot fudge sundae with whipped cream hold the cherry at the drive thru on the way home. Triumph.
I haven’t been making dinner lately. We were away for a big chunk of last week, on the Rocky Mountaineer from Calgary to Vancouver (I do have more to tell!), then in Banff for the Rocky Mountain Food & Wine Festival. Then dinner club Sunday night, and Sue arrived first thing Monday morning for an intensive two days of editing the first round draft of Spilling the Beans (yes, that’s the official title now), which is slated to be released this fall.
Monday night we went for pizza (I had been on traffic duty on the Homestretch right up until 6), Tuesday night we celebrated with a bottle of Italian bubbly (a brand new one called Secco), tossed some veggies on the grill, cooked leftover chickpeas (from a soaking experiment) in a skillet with garlic, cook a couple eggs in the garlicky oil, and opened a black peppercorn Gouda from Sylvan Star.
Tonight we wound up going for pizza again (a different occasion), and I stuck to one and a half thin-crusted slices and some marinated bean salad. As I saw on twitter about ten minutes ago, Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass, it’s about learning to dance in the rain. Which can be applied to so much, don’t you think? Or loosely be translated to: Life isn’t about giving up pizza, it’s about learning how to enjoy less of it, with a side of beans. Or some such. And remembering that I really do like beans, especially when I have an appetite. The bean salad we ordered was similar to the one I grew up with – sweet and tangy – we generally add celery seed, fresh green and yellow beans, chopped red peppers and purple onion. A marinated bean salad is a good thing to keep in the fridge for lunches or snacks, and a great thing to bring to a party when you want to contribute something delicious and colourful that won’t wilt or go soggy and actually improves as it sits in the fridge.
It might be a good thing to bring to a potluck, too. How does Saturday, May 28 sound? I’d love it to coincide with the apple tree blooming pink in my back yard, which lasts about a week per year.
Bean Salad
2-3 cups green and yellow beans, trimmed (just the stem ends)
1 19 oz (540 mL) can kidney beans, rinsed and drained
1 19 oz (540 mL) can black-eyed peas or chickpeas, rinsed and drained
1 red, yellow or orange bell pepper, seeded and chopped
2 celery stalks, chopped
half a small red onion, finely chopped
1/2 cup red wine vinegar or white vinegar
1/4 cup sugar or honey
1/4 cup canola oil
1/2 tsp. celery seed
salt and pepper
Combine all the beans and veg in a large bowl. In a small saucepan, combine the vinegar, sugar, oil, celery seed and salt and pepper to taste. Set it over medium heat and bring the mixture to a simmer. Cook for a few minutes, until the sugar dissolves completely. Set the vinaigrette aside to cool for a few minutes before pouring it over the salad. Toss gently to coat all the beans with dressing.
Cover and refrigerate overnight to allow the beans to marinate. Makes lots.
May 18 2011 | beans and salads | 31 Comments »
Nothing special to report for Mother’s Day, I’m afraid. I woke up early, with that morning-after dread triggered by the realization I went a little overboard on party nibbles (spring rolls! ginger pork! curried chicken toasts!) and birthday cake (the kind with the cheap shortening icing that coats your mouth and would make swell undereye cream!) last night. I had a bit of a food hangover. Mike had another kind, which is why he didn’t stir until after I had long since woken up with W, and had already made him breakfast to eat while watching Dora (the Mothers’ Day special). Humph.
I had to work today, anyway. So I got the kitchen clean enough to work on recipes and photos for a couple magazine assignments, and I went shopping for a long list of ingredients for my class at Red Deer College tonight. I was feeling a little sorry for myself, and so made a grainy salad to bring on the drive, and to eat before class, lest I talk myself thru a drive thru or ravenously devour half the finished products at our baking class. This has been on my mind for a few days:
Melissa W on 06 May 2011 at 12:59 pm: I make a similar incarnation of this salad using quinoa, sautéed leeks, celery, lemon/olive oil, feta and cranberries. Oh, and toasted pine nuts or toasted almonds. Glorious! It is magical. We call it Magic Salad, in fact.
I could not not try this. It is indeed magical. I hope I did it justice. I tried not to eat all the crispy fried leeks straight out of the pan. Note to self: think of other things to do with crispy leeks.
You won’t need a recipe, really. Just cook up some quinoa (see below), and cut the white and pale green part off the bottom of a leek, cut it in half lengthwise and rinse it well, getting in between all the layers. Thinly slice it and saute in a drizzle of oil and blob of butter until golden and crispy. Cool and add it to the cooled quinoa along with a finely chopped celery stalk, half cup crumbled feta, quarter cup (ish) dried cranberries and toasted pine nuts or almonds (walnuts would do well too, I think); dress with olive oil (I thought extra-virgin was a bit overwhelming, but that’s just me), lemon juice and freshly ground pepper. Yum. Thanks Melissa!
(To cook quinoa, rinse it well under cool water in a fine sieve, then cook in a pot of boiling salted water over medium heat until tender but still firm to bite, stirring occasionally, about 15 minutes. Just like you’d cook pasta. Drain well, return to the pot, put the lid back on and let it steam – this will produce fluffy quinoa – until cooled.)
May 08 2011 | grains and salads and vegetarian | 18 Comments »
I thought by now I might have come back to the ground, having read every single one of your incredibly kind and thoughtful comments (and emails, and tweets), many of them more than once, and known exactly what to say. But I can’t seem to come up with more than one-syllable words, like wow. And thanks! And sniff. And then I go back to read some more. What an amazing gift, all this. I didn’t think it was possible to get choked up when I’m not even talking. You’ve gone and blown my mind.
Honestly, you have all relieved me of an enormous weight I didn’t even realize I had been carrying. The weight of my weight, I suppose. Collectively lifted it up and carried it away. I just wish I could pull up a chair and continue each and every conversation that has started here. I might try to take a stab at it, I think. I have a plan. I want to have a potluck, just for us, and I want as many of you as are able to come. Would you be up for that? Life’s too short not to.
Meanwhile, guess what? I made dinner. It’s funny how easily I forget that there is plenty of good, healthy food out there that I love as much as the not so good for me stuff. It has become ingrained somewhere deep that junk food will make me happy. It did as a kid, when we weren’t really allowed to have it, and I became somewhat obsessed. I yearned for the Hostess Fruit Pies and Ding Dongs I saw advertised on the backs of Archie comics, and when I finally made it to the states and got my hands on some, my brain refused to believe they weren’t as spectacular as I had built them up to be.
When I was pregnant with W, I lost my appetite all but entirely. For real. It was weird. I didn’t recognize myself. I finally understood those people who get caught up in stuff and forget to eat. How do you forget to eat? Do you forget to breathe, too? The concept has always been inconceivable.
And when W was born, everyone told me my appetite would come back. It didn’t. During those first few weeks even with the lack of sleep and breastfeeding I wasn’t that hungry. I panicked. One day there was a bowl of peanut M&Ms on the kitchen counter, and I didn’t want any. I told myself to just give them a try, that once I was eating them I’d remember that I really do like chocolate, and they would be delicious, and everything would be OK.
That must have been the sleep deprivation talking.
The interesting part of all this is that my connection with food runs so deep, I don’t recognize myself without an appetite. If I was given the option to flip some switch that dulled my hunger, made me uninterested in food, I wouldn’t do it, no question. Not even if it simultaneously eliminated all my weight issues. I would not give it up, not ever. No question. I choose this appetite.
Knowing that makes me feel better.
Which is all to say I have to consciously remind myself that I do actually like healthy food. I’m not 10 anymore, I do not gag at the sight of pan-fried fish. I DO NOT BEG FOR WONDER BREAD ANYMORE. I’m particularly hip on grainy salads, and so I’ve decided to make a habit of having one or two in the fridge at all times so that there’s always something proper for lunch or dinner or a quick nibble. Being prepared is a very Good Thing; hungry Julie is very convincing and can easily talk the rest of me into eating too much and starting tomorrow. The habit of starting tomorrow (and thus eating as much as I can tonight, in order to get it out of my system) is a big reason why I weighed over 300 pounds in the first place. Some days, just not falling into the “I’ll start tomorrow” trap is considered a triumph.
Oh! I also went to Pilates today! I did. Oy.
I sure can ramble over a rice salad. Especially when feeling speechless.
You won’t need a recipe for this salad, but more a general formula. My mom and I came up with it years ago, for a baby shower, I think. Sometimes we make it with orzo (small rice-shaped pasta) and sometimes with rice. It would be fine with brown rice, although this time I used white Jasmine rice.
Cook a cup or two of it as you normally would, and cool it completely. Toss it in a bowl with lots of sliced or torn fresh spinach (more than it looks like there is in the photo above), and a small chunk of slivered purple onion, some crumbled feta and the grated zest of a lemon. Add a drizzle of olive oil and the juice of the lemon, and plenty of freshly ground black pepper. Adjust quantities of each as you see fit. Enjoy, and keep in the fridge if you need something to dip into.
May 06 2011 | salads and vegetarian | 39 Comments »
The one upside to eating less and letting your body burn some of its on-board fuel? Everything tastes fanfreakingtastic.
One of the downsides? Arriving home from a long day that ended at the gym ravenous and trying not to nibble my way through enough calories to cancel out those 45 minutes on the elliptical trainer while getting dinner on the table. These are the times my brain becomes a ninety pound weakling easily shoved over by my bully of a stomach.
Did I just date myself?
I’ll tell you something though – I did not settle for just a salad. Greens with roasted beets (golden, this time), sugared toasted pecans and soft goat cheese that melts into maple-balsamic dressing is one of my favourite things. (Who needs whiskers on kittens?)
And even when you’re hungry, it’s worth the extra minutes for toasted, sugared pecans. I want to show you something someone showed me years ago, and now I can’t remember who, but it was one of those little tips that stuck.
To toast pecans (or walnuts) quickly with a bit of a sugary coating, run pieces or halves under water in a colander, then dust them with icing (powdered) sugar, still in the colander.
Shake them about a bit to sort of coat them, then proceed with toasting them in the oven, toaster oven or stovetop. I imagine you could add a shake of spice along with the sugar, too – cinnamon or cumin or paprika. I kind of like the straight-up sweetness. Better than leftover chocolate eggs, even.
April 26 2011 | salads | 16 Comments »
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