veggie2

Penne zita rigatte with Chipotle Tofu
Roughly chop roasted red peppers and several tinned chipotle with a bit of the adobo sauce they traditionally are packed in. Roughly chop garlic. Strip the leaves from several stems of fresh oregano (put the stems aside for a stock or the compost). Place all of these ingredients in a container or mixing bowl. Season with sea salt, fresh black pepper, fresh lime juice. Pour a generous quantity of extra virgin olive oil over top. Using an immersion or hand blender, purée everything together.

Cut a block of tofu in half through its middle, then in five or six thin strips across the lenth of its top and then three or four across the width. This should provide you with rectangular pieces of tofu about the size of penne. Marinate the tofu in roasted red pepper and chipotle sauce while preparing the rest of the meal.

In a pasta cooker boil penne until al denté. Drain the pasta and pour off the pasta cooking water into a stockpot (which contains all of the scraps from the various components of the meal). Gently heat the sauce and tofu in the bottom of the pasta cooker, then add the penne and cook together for one more minute.

Pour the pasta into a serving bowl. Top with a sprinkling of panko (Japanese bread crumbs that are quite coarse). Garnish with black pepper and the tops from a few stems of oregano.

Vinegared Cabbages
Remove any wilted leaves from some Napa cabbage, baby bok choi (or bok choy), and bok choy sum (flowering bok choy), trim the root end and slice them in half lengthwise. Rinse well in salted water. Arrange the greens in the steamer that sits in the top of the pasta cooker. A few minutes before putting the penne into the boiling water, start the greens steaming. Then lift out the steaming basket, add the pasta, replace the basket. By the time the penne is ready, the cabbages will be as well. Turn them into a serving bowl, drizzle with a good balsamic vinegar or lash with a lesser balsamic, lash with extra virgin olive oil. Season with sea salt and fresh black pepper. Garnish with a few shavings of parmesan.

Peppers and Onion
Cut a white onion into largish slices. Cut poblano, red and green peppers into similar sized pieces. Sear in a good pan at a high heat in olive and grapeseed oils. Season with sea salt, fresh black pepper, and cumin seeds.

Would you like to go to 'Vegetarian Meals That Aren't Just Brown Gack'? Or see How Many Ways Can You Say "Vinegar"?

Nothing does grow like wild young cilantro...

I have just cleaned some cilantro and need to chop it very finely with the mezzaluna, but first I have to strip the leaves from their stalks. It will take a few minutes, so, in a time-honored literary device, if you want to go and bone up on raita in general, do feel free.

OK, all done. Now let's get to it. The jalfrezi's all but ready to eat, most of the supporting cast is at hand, naan bread, mango chutney, peppered poppadoms in profusion, but one thing still needs to be thrown together; the right raita.

Although, as with another dish, I first ate this variation in Greece (Athens in this case not Crete) and while it's certainly a wonderful sauce to accompany a fresh young lamb cooked in the Mediterranean style, it is best (in this mouth) when made to alleviate the ravages the boldest curries often deliciously precipitate.

Essentially, in any order or none at all, combine all of the below in a bowl of your choosing and present with a spoon so your fellow diners can serve themselves.

• 1 cup finely chopped of the freshest cilantro you can buy or even better pick
• 3 cups plain yogurt
• 1 tsp. cayenne pepper
• 8 large garlic cloves minced
• 1 minced shallot
• 1 Dutch or English (at a pinch Canadian :) cucumber, peeled and cut into small chunks
• 1 lemon's juice
• 2 tbls of good olive oil
• Salt to taste

Two notes: (1) If I feel the stuff needs more legs and less body (as it were) I forgo the cayenne and switch out the lemon in favor of lime juice. (2) In response to a friendly note that suggested my kitchen must surely resemble a television chef's and that I obviously have all day to do nothing but cook, I must demur, albeit with a smile. I wish I had all day and nothing else in need of fixing but food, but like for most that's just not the case. However, and perhaps this is in my nature as a chemist, I have evolved a number of work arounds or tricks that can make things happen faster if the clock is ticking particularly loudly. For an Indian-style spice mix (my own in-house garam masala if you like) I keep a large (formerly salt) shaker into which I add spices as I use them for other things. Thus if I am putting some black mustard seeds into the pestle for grinding, I will remember to add a few more and then mix this remainder into whatever is currently in the shaker.* This is an on-going and (obviously) evolving mix that I could, for example, now dust on to my raita to give it that something extra without needing to make the same from scratch. Is it as good as completely fresh? Maybe not, but you really would be that person with all the time in the world and a very fussy tongue indeed to protest the difference as you ladle some of this refreshingly tart raita on to your plate to do battle with the fiery lamb jalfrezi that awaits you there.

Salaam!

*In answer to a further question, currently in my shaker there are elements of black mustard seeds, crushed red chiles, ginger, cumin, cardamom and Tellicherry black pepper.

Or how subscription to an organic vegetable box, a dose of insomnia, and an impending nodermeet led to soup-making

Jude was rummaging through the vegetable box: 'Ella, what's this?' The alien-like mud-coated vegetable to which Jude was referring, with sprouting green top and tentacle roots, was a celeriac. Allegedly. It was hard to tell, under all the mud. For various reasons, the celeriac never made it on to our plates that week. Then it was joined by a less muddy but more rooty friend. So we had two celeriacs.

I suffer from insomnia periodically. Rather than lay awake and feel frustrated, I get up. Normally, I clean. Well, on this occasion, I'd virtually decontaminated the flat and still I wasn't sleepy. I spied the green tips of one of the celeriac twins peeping over the vegetable box. I had vague plans to serve soup to the noders who gathered at the flat before we embarked on the drinking that was the precursor to the fried breakfast. Hmmm...celeriac soup? It seemed like a good idea.

So, I washed and I chopped and I fried and I seasoned and I simmered and I blitzed. It wasn't bad. It even got me to sleep for a few hours. The following evening, noders seemed to approve. But it needed something else. The flavour wasn't round enough. I was slightly at a loss: celeriac has such a delicate flavour that I was afraid of overpowering it. The idea came to me when I was cleaning out the fruit bowls: chestnut. Complementary, delicate flavours, one sweet, the other savoury, both in season at the same time. Now I just had to wait for another celeriac in the vegetable box!

Last Friday, another alien bundle of roots and greenery appeared. Thus, Jude and I were able to enjoy celeriac and chestnut soup for lunch on Saturday. The soup was given the seal of approval: I was told that it could come again for lunch.

Ingredients, for four

• 20 chestnuts
• 1 medium onion, chopped medium-fine
• 2 tbsp olive oil
• 1 medium sized celeriac (about 1 1/2lb, or 750g, with roots and greenery, but no mud), peeled and chopped into 1" (2.5cm) cubes
• Vegetable stock (say around 2 pints, or 1 litre)
• 1 tspn cinnamon
• 1 tspn cumin
• 2 tbsp sherry
• Salt and Pepper
• Plain yoghurt, to serve

Method

Your first task is to deal with the chestnuts. Okay, so you could use canned, pureed chestnuts, or even frozen ones. But when celeriac is in season, so are chestnuts: use fresh ones. Please. Nick off the bottoms with a sharp knife, place them in a pan, cover them with water, and bring to the boil. Boil them for between five and ten minutes. Drain, allow them to cool, and then peel. I'm afraid that the inner, papery skin needs to come off, too. You'll probably have to slide a knife under the skins, wriggle it a bit, and then resort to using your nails. Be careful. Chop the nuts into quarters and set aside.

Heat the oil in a stockpot or a large pan. You know, one that you use for making soup. Fry off the onion until it softens and begins to go translucent. Then add the celeriac, and fry that until it too begins to go soft around the edges. Tip in the chestnuts, season with salt and pepper, and the spices. Stir things about a bit.

Now you get to add some hot vegetable stock. I'm sorry, I didn't measure it out. The vegetables were covered, and there was some liquid to spare. Reckon on about two pints. If in doubt, go for less than you think, you can always thin it down. However, I did measure out the sherry (nothing too sweet). It was two tablespoons. Add that. Stir. Cover. Allow to cook. It will need at least 30 minutes over a low-medium flame until the chestnuts and celeriac are completely softened. You'll be able to squash chunks of vegetable with a wooden spoon and not much effort. Now you can liquidise it!

After you've liquidised it, check the seasoning and adjust accordingly. If you've made it a bit too thick, thin with some boiling water. Serve with a dollop of yoghurt, and enjoy!

Vegan Berry Pancakes

I have been varying shades of vegan for the past 5 years and have noticed that many vegan foods have a markedly different taste than their non-vegan counterparts. In cooking, eggs are the glue that holds the batter together. Without eggs, many recipes will fail miserably. To remedy this problem I purchased a large box of egg substitute from a local health food shop. This was a total waste of $7.79. I soon gave up on the idea of using things such as the egg subsitutes, fake butter, and soy milk in favour of naturally vegan foods such as squash and corn. Squash and corn do not, however, make for good breakfast foods and so I present you with the following recipe for delicious vegan berry pancakes.

P.S. I made these for my mother and her boyfriend and they didn't even notice that they were eating vegan food.

INGREDIENTS...

• 2 1/2 cups flour
• 2 tb white sugar
• 2 tb baking powder
• 1 tb vegetable oil
• 1 tsp salt
• 2 1/2 cups water
• 1/2 cup strawberries, washed and chopped
• 1/2 cup blueberries, washed

DIRECTIONS...

1. In a large bowl, combine all ingredients. Do not overmix.
2. Let mixture sit for 5 minutes.
3. Stir lightly.
4. Heat griddle on medium heat and grease with oil.
5. Pour batter in 1/4 cup amounts on griddle and let cook until small holes form and hold in the pancake.
6. Flip pancake and cook till golden.
7. Serve with warm syrup of your choice.

If you are not vegan, use milk instead of water, reduce amount of milk by 1/4 cup and add 1 egg.

There are many combinations of vegetables which one might use to construct a tasty vegan pizza. What follows are two recipes I've used and found to be wonderful.

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Pesto & Veggies

Ingredients

• pesto
  • 1 bunch of basil
  • 1 bunch of mint
  • 5 cloves of garlic
  • 1/4 cup almond
  • salt to taste (about a teaspoon)
  • olive oil sufficient for consistency (about 5 tablespoons)
• crust (use any yeast bread recipe; this one makes enough for 2 crusts)
  • 1 cup warm water
  • 1 tablespoon yeast
  • 1 teaspoon sugar
  • 1 teaspoon salt
  • 2.5 cups flour
  • 0.5 cup corn meal
  • 3 tablespoons olive oil
• marinated artichoke hearts
• 1 medium eggplant
• 2 medium-sized tomato

Method

Start by mixing up the bread dough. Dissolve the yeast, sugar, and salt in the water, and then stir in the flour, corn meal, and oil. Knead the dough thoroughly and set it aside to let it rise.

Wash the vegetables. Into a food processor, put the garlic, olive oil, almonds, basil, and the mint leaves. Blend them into a smooth green paste. Add salt until it tastes right (I don't like a lot of salt, so my recipes wind up being on the low side for most people's tastes). Set the pesto aside.

Slice the eggplant into 1/2 cm thick slices. In a frying pan put just enough oil to keep the eggplant from sticking, and cook the slices. You don't need to cook them thoroughly -- they're going on the pizza and into an oven, after all -- but get both sides cooked for about a minute. Stack the cooked eggplant slices on a plate and set them aside.

By now, the bread dough may have risen enough. Punch it down, divide into two equal portions, and roll out the crusts. Paint the crusts with the pesto.

Lay the eggplant slices on the pizzas. Put the artichoke hearts on the pizzas. Dice the tomatoes and put them on. Bake the pizzas at 375 for about 25 minutes (to cook the crust).

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Olive Oil & Veggies

Ingredients

• crust (see above)
• 2 bell peppers
• 1 medium white onion
• 2 medium tomatoes
• 2 zucchinis
• lots of garlic (minced)
• olive oil

Method

Brush the crusts with olive oil. Cut the vegetables up into smallish pieces and strew them about on the crusts. Bake at 375 for about 20 minutes.

I first had this kind of pizza at a bar. It goes quite well with beer, and the lack of tomato sauce and cheese means that you can actually taste the vegetables.