Showing posts with label Stew. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stew. Show all posts
10.18.2012
Vegan Diner veggies and dumplings
Julie Hasson's Vegan Diner was a really exciting find for me because of how much Kevin loves diner food. It has a lot of great recipes for great vegan comfort food. Most of the recipes (especially the ones I love) seem to revolve around seitan, bread, or flour, so I don't know how gluten-intolerant folks would do with it, but otherwise the book is great.
The recipe I keep coming back to is the Veggies and Dumplings.
I think it's supposed to mimic chicken and dumplings in flavor, but I never had any sort of soup with dumplings before going vegan, so I don't know what it's supposed to taste like, I just know it tastes good. It's surprisingly quick and simple, and I have discovered I loooove dropping dumplings into soups. I've made this recipe quite a few times, and have never had any problem swapping things in and out when I didn't have the right ingredients.
I've even made a gluten-free version! I generally use chickpea flour for the roux anyway, to get a little extra protein in, but a couple times now I've tried making the dumplings with chickpea flour in place of the white flour. They don't get quite as firm, and they don't keep as well (they start to dissolve after being stored in the fridge for more than a day), but if you serve them right away, they're a great substitute for normal white-flour dumplings. However, this dish DOES make for great leftovers, so if you're like me and looking to make something that will last you for a few days' worth of meals, I'd stick with the normal recipe.
Labels:
comfort food,
gluten free,
one-dish meals,
soup,
Stew,
Vegan Diner,
VeganMoFo
12.22.2010
Great Expectations: hearty rolls and stew
I love food and I love to read. As a result, the first week [or the third week...] of each month, I'll combine these two interests in a post about food from literature. I'll mostly be sticking with books from classic literature, so you're likely to know the storylines anyway, but just in case you don't: warning: there may be spoilers ahead.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This time of year, everyone pays attention to Charles Dickens's A Christmas Carol, which, despite all the corny movies and TV specials based on it, is a good story. But for my "food in literature" post this month, I want to talk about another of his famous works: Great Expectations.
A lot of people read this book in high school or at least college, but I somehow avoided ever having to read Dickens in an academic setting, so in reading this book, which everyone else implied was long and heavy, I found a pleasant surprise. It's long, and it's a dreary story, but the characters are very much alive and interesting, and the grime and gloom of Dicken's Victorian England is positively palpable. Few of the characters are really likeable, but you want to give them the benefit of a doubt; it is their environment that makes them who they are.
And what an environment! The settings in Great Expectations could be characters on their own. We visit and revisit the graveyard, the swampy Kent marshes, Miss Havisham's ruined mansion, the dingy London apartment, the ominous lawyer's office--they build up around the characters and the reader like a tall wall. Dickens's Victorian England is gray, depressing, and oppressive. But there are respites! There are some good people, and in this book, the good people are accompanied by good places--and good food. I always invoke food in literature as a depiction of comfort and emotional (as well as physical) nourishment; Great Expectations seems to do the same. Joe, the Pockets, and Wemmick are some of the most likeable characters in the book, and the homes of these people are the few sources of warmth and light that Great Expectations offers. And with all of these people, Pip eats food.
There is a fair amount of alcohol, and some tea, but we do not see many of the characters' meals. Because food does not appear often in the book, when it does appear, it is obvious that it has an important role. Early in Pip's life, we see that the abused little boy takes a great deal of comfort in eating bread with Joe, his sister's kind husband. At the uncomfortable Christmas dinner, Joe gives Pip extra gravy to try to make up for the boy's treatment. When Pip comes into money, one of the first things he does in London is eat with Herbert Pocket--buttered chicken and parsley, strawberries for dessert. And when he meets Wemmick, a trusty advisor and friend, Wemmick invites him back to his eccentric but endearing house for a homegrown meal.
As I said a couple weeks ago, I was originally going to recreate a vegan version of a Pork Pie. But then I read what pork pies are; ground-up season pork surrounded by pork-flavored gelatin in a pie shell. I thought about grinding up and seasoning tofu, making an agar-tofu-jelly, and baking that, but it still doesn't sound appetizing. More revolting than comforting. I realized, though, that Pip never ate the Pork Pie; it was not a source of comfort to him. The bread that he and Joe share early in the book and the simple meal of stewed vegetables that they pull from Wemmick's garden are not only more appetizing, but much easier to veganize.
Wemmick's stew isn't vegan--he adds fish--but my Autumn Root Stew is actually probably pretty close to the recipe Dickens had in mind. This time I added a cup or so of chickpeas for protein.
Pull-apart rolls are fond memories from my childhood, and this reminded me of Pip's fond moments eating bread with Joe. I like to add some whole wheat flour (not whole wheat pastry flour!) for extra heartiness, but you can do all white flour if you prefer. You'll probably end up using a little less water, though. If you want to replace MORE of the white four with whole wheat flour, add a couple Tbsps of gluten flour to make it stick together and rise better, and you may need more water.Hearty Pull-Apart Rolls
Makes 12 rolls
3 tsps active dry yeast (you can also use a packet, but that's less yeast, so give it a little more rising time)
1 tsp sugar
1 Cup warm (not hot) water
2 Tbsp oilve oil, divided
1/2 tsp salt
2 1/2 Cups all-purpose flour
1/2 Cup whole wheat flour
Vegan margarine, to top (optional)
Mix the yeast and sugar in the bottom of a large bowl. Add about half the water. Give this about 5 minutes to sit. Meanwhile, gather your other ingredients.
Add the rest of the water, the salt and 1 Tbsp oil. Stir to combine. Add the flour a cup or so at a time. After the 2nd time, you probably won't be able to stir much anymore, so use your hands. Once it's all fairly combined, turn the dough out onto a lightly-floured surface, and knead for 5-10 minutes, sprinkling extra flour over the top if it's too sticky. The key to really nice, light bread is to keep the dough as wet as possible, so ideally you want it a little sticky, but not if that makes it too tough to work with. Roll the dough into a large ball.
Use the remaining 1 Tbsp oil to grease the sides of a large bowl. Put the ball of dough in the bowl, turning to coat it with the oil. Set a dish cloth over the top of the bowl, and leave in a warm place (our kitchen is cold, so sometimes I preheat my oven briefly, then set the bowl on top) for at least two hours.
After two hours (or more), punch down the dough and remove from the bowl. Lightly oil a pie plate. Divide the dough into twelve equal parts. (I find this is easiest to do by dividing it in half. Take one of the halves; divide that in half. Then divide each of those smaller halves into three. Voila, twelfths!) Roll the twelfths into balls, and space them fairly equally in the pie plate. They won't touch; that's okay. Cover again with the dishcloth, leave to rise for at least another hour. Preheat the oven to 375.
Depending on how warm your kitchen is, after an hour the rolls might be touching. If not, don't worry; they rise more in the oven. Remove the dishcloth, then bake the rolls for 20-25 minutes. You'll know they're done because tops will be golden brown and will sound hollow if you tap on them.
Remove the rolls from the oven, and rub a tablespoon or two of butter over the tops of the rolls. It pools in the valleys between rolls--yum. Allow to cool for a couple minutes before pulling them apart (or bringing the pie plate to the table for others to pull apart).
These are best warm, but they're also good for breakfast the morning after, dipped in agave (or maple syrup) and cinnamon.
I've been wanting to do an "edible gift guide" post all December, but unfortunately, the people for whom I'll be making said edible gifts read my blog, so I've had to wait. This weekend I'll finally give people their presents, so expect an "edible gift guide" after that. And Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it!
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This time of year, everyone pays attention to Charles Dickens's A Christmas Carol, which, despite all the corny movies and TV specials based on it, is a good story. But for my "food in literature" post this month, I want to talk about another of his famous works: Great Expectations.
A lot of people read this book in high school or at least college, but I somehow avoided ever having to read Dickens in an academic setting, so in reading this book, which everyone else implied was long and heavy, I found a pleasant surprise. It's long, and it's a dreary story, but the characters are very much alive and interesting, and the grime and gloom of Dicken's Victorian England is positively palpable. Few of the characters are really likeable, but you want to give them the benefit of a doubt; it is their environment that makes them who they are.
And what an environment! The settings in Great Expectations could be characters on their own. We visit and revisit the graveyard, the swampy Kent marshes, Miss Havisham's ruined mansion, the dingy London apartment, the ominous lawyer's office--they build up around the characters and the reader like a tall wall. Dickens's Victorian England is gray, depressing, and oppressive. But there are respites! There are some good people, and in this book, the good people are accompanied by good places--and good food. I always invoke food in literature as a depiction of comfort and emotional (as well as physical) nourishment; Great Expectations seems to do the same. Joe, the Pockets, and Wemmick are some of the most likeable characters in the book, and the homes of these people are the few sources of warmth and light that Great Expectations offers. And with all of these people, Pip eats food.
There is a fair amount of alcohol, and some tea, but we do not see many of the characters' meals. Because food does not appear often in the book, when it does appear, it is obvious that it has an important role. Early in Pip's life, we see that the abused little boy takes a great deal of comfort in eating bread with Joe, his sister's kind husband. At the uncomfortable Christmas dinner, Joe gives Pip extra gravy to try to make up for the boy's treatment. When Pip comes into money, one of the first things he does in London is eat with Herbert Pocket--buttered chicken and parsley, strawberries for dessert. And when he meets Wemmick, a trusty advisor and friend, Wemmick invites him back to his eccentric but endearing house for a homegrown meal.
As I said a couple weeks ago, I was originally going to recreate a vegan version of a Pork Pie. But then I read what pork pies are; ground-up season pork surrounded by pork-flavored gelatin in a pie shell. I thought about grinding up and seasoning tofu, making an agar-tofu-jelly, and baking that, but it still doesn't sound appetizing. More revolting than comforting. I realized, though, that Pip never ate the Pork Pie; it was not a source of comfort to him. The bread that he and Joe share early in the book and the simple meal of stewed vegetables that they pull from Wemmick's garden are not only more appetizing, but much easier to veganize.
Wemmick's stew isn't vegan--he adds fish--but my Autumn Root Stew is actually probably pretty close to the recipe Dickens had in mind. This time I added a cup or so of chickpeas for protein.
Pull-apart rolls are fond memories from my childhood, and this reminded me of Pip's fond moments eating bread with Joe. I like to add some whole wheat flour (not whole wheat pastry flour!) for extra heartiness, but you can do all white flour if you prefer. You'll probably end up using a little less water, though. If you want to replace MORE of the white four with whole wheat flour, add a couple Tbsps of gluten flour to make it stick together and rise better, and you may need more water.Hearty Pull-Apart Rolls
Makes 12 rolls
3 tsps active dry yeast (you can also use a packet, but that's less yeast, so give it a little more rising time)
1 tsp sugar
1 Cup warm (not hot) water
2 Tbsp oilve oil, divided
1/2 tsp salt
2 1/2 Cups all-purpose flour
1/2 Cup whole wheat flour
Vegan margarine, to top (optional)
Mix the yeast and sugar in the bottom of a large bowl. Add about half the water. Give this about 5 minutes to sit. Meanwhile, gather your other ingredients.
Add the rest of the water, the salt and 1 Tbsp oil. Stir to combine. Add the flour a cup or so at a time. After the 2nd time, you probably won't be able to stir much anymore, so use your hands. Once it's all fairly combined, turn the dough out onto a lightly-floured surface, and knead for 5-10 minutes, sprinkling extra flour over the top if it's too sticky. The key to really nice, light bread is to keep the dough as wet as possible, so ideally you want it a little sticky, but not if that makes it too tough to work with. Roll the dough into a large ball.
Use the remaining 1 Tbsp oil to grease the sides of a large bowl. Put the ball of dough in the bowl, turning to coat it with the oil. Set a dish cloth over the top of the bowl, and leave in a warm place (our kitchen is cold, so sometimes I preheat my oven briefly, then set the bowl on top) for at least two hours.
After two hours (or more), punch down the dough and remove from the bowl. Lightly oil a pie plate. Divide the dough into twelve equal parts. (I find this is easiest to do by dividing it in half. Take one of the halves; divide that in half. Then divide each of those smaller halves into three. Voila, twelfths!) Roll the twelfths into balls, and space them fairly equally in the pie plate. They won't touch; that's okay. Cover again with the dishcloth, leave to rise for at least another hour. Preheat the oven to 375.
Depending on how warm your kitchen is, after an hour the rolls might be touching. If not, don't worry; they rise more in the oven. Remove the dishcloth, then bake the rolls for 20-25 minutes. You'll know they're done because tops will be golden brown and will sound hollow if you tap on them.
Remove the rolls from the oven, and rub a tablespoon or two of butter over the tops of the rolls. It pools in the valleys between rolls--yum. Allow to cool for a couple minutes before pulling them apart (or bringing the pie plate to the table for others to pull apart).
These are best warm, but they're also good for breakfast the morning after, dipped in agave (or maple syrup) and cinnamon.
I've been wanting to do an "edible gift guide" post all December, but unfortunately, the people for whom I'll be making said edible gifts read my blog, so I've had to wait. This weekend I'll finally give people their presents, so expect an "edible gift guide" after that. And Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it!
11.04.2010
stew from melomeals, and a non-profit you should really know about
Two days ago, Melody over at melomeals posted a recipe for Creamy White Bean Stew with Collards. Not only did it sound delicious, but with pre-cooked beans, she claimed the recipe comes together in 30 minutes. I came home late-ish and starving on Tuesday night, so I put this claim to the test! Unlike most stews, which need a lot of cooking time to develop their flavors, this recipe really does come together in half an hour, and it is delicious, hearty, and warming (which is important, because we are in the middle of some boiler issues and won't have heat till tomorrow). I didn't have poultry seasoning, so I used a variety of herbs and spices--a pinch each of onion and garlic powders, sage, thyme, parsley. I also didn't have any "nutritional yeast base sauce" made up ahead of time (though that's a cool idea of Melody's, making a big batch of cheesy sauce to last you throughout the week. I suspect the boyfriend would eat it all in one go, though, since he's a sucker for cheesy sauces), so I added each of its parts to the stew individually. I put in 1/4 C nutritional yeast, a bit of mustard and garlic powder, and 1/2 C water when it says to add the nutritional yeast sauce. Toward the end of the cooking time I stirred a tablespoon or so of arrowroot powder into another 1/4 C water, and stirred that into the stew. It was so delicious!
I made the cornbread biscuits from Vegan Brunch to go along with it. I am a huge fan of all things that involve cornmeal, so I can't believe I'd never tried these! They are ridiculously easy to make, taking about 20 minutes from when you first get out the ingredients to when you pull them out of the oven.
The combination of the two was awesome.
As a sort of public service announcement, one of the things that makes me come home late-ish (and anxious for a quick-cooking meal like the afore-mentioned stew) each week is the volunteer work I do for a non-profit called RfBD, or Recording for the Blind and Dyslexic. It is an organization that records textbooks for students with disabilities--physical or learning-related--that prevent them from reading at the pace of their peers. RfBD offers students audio files of their textbooks, allowing them to navigate their texts by page, chapter, section, etc, just as if they were working with a book. Because there are hundreds of textbooks to record for students from elementary to graduate school levels, RfBD relies heavily on volunteers to record the content of the books.
Volunteering has always been important to me, and helping people with learning differences and visual impairments is another cause in which I'm personally invested. As a volunteer, I spend 2 hours a week in a sound-proof booth, reading aloud. I was a radio kid in college, and doing this soothes the part of me that misses having a radio show. The training was easy, and if you don't feel like recording, they have other tasks for volunteers to do. RfBD (which is about to change its name, since they cater to a much wider variety of people than only those who are blind or dyslexic) has been around since at least the 1960s (possibly the 50s?), and has over 20 locations in 14 states; they also have some satellite locations in other places. I've been volunteering for them for almost 3 years now, and I intend to do so for many more. If you're looking for a way to spend some of your time (or money; they take donations) helping other people, this is a great way to do it. (Plus, if you're moderately antisocial like I am, this allows you to help people without actually spending time with people--you're in a sound-proof booth!)
Tomorrow, and every Friday this November, I'm going to run a series of entries on how to replace nightshades, since, if you are allergic to nightshades, or just ever try to avoid them, you'll know that you need a little help sometimes. Or a lot of the time. Or every time you open a cookbook. Stay tuned!
I made the cornbread biscuits from Vegan Brunch to go along with it. I am a huge fan of all things that involve cornmeal, so I can't believe I'd never tried these! They are ridiculously easy to make, taking about 20 minutes from when you first get out the ingredients to when you pull them out of the oven.
The combination of the two was awesome.
As a sort of public service announcement, one of the things that makes me come home late-ish (and anxious for a quick-cooking meal like the afore-mentioned stew) each week is the volunteer work I do for a non-profit called RfBD, or Recording for the Blind and Dyslexic. It is an organization that records textbooks for students with disabilities--physical or learning-related--that prevent them from reading at the pace of their peers. RfBD offers students audio files of their textbooks, allowing them to navigate their texts by page, chapter, section, etc, just as if they were working with a book. Because there are hundreds of textbooks to record for students from elementary to graduate school levels, RfBD relies heavily on volunteers to record the content of the books.
Volunteering has always been important to me, and helping people with learning differences and visual impairments is another cause in which I'm personally invested. As a volunteer, I spend 2 hours a week in a sound-proof booth, reading aloud. I was a radio kid in college, and doing this soothes the part of me that misses having a radio show. The training was easy, and if you don't feel like recording, they have other tasks for volunteers to do. RfBD (which is about to change its name, since they cater to a much wider variety of people than only those who are blind or dyslexic) has been around since at least the 1960s (possibly the 50s?), and has over 20 locations in 14 states; they also have some satellite locations in other places. I've been volunteering for them for almost 3 years now, and I intend to do so for many more. If you're looking for a way to spend some of your time (or money; they take donations) helping other people, this is a great way to do it. (Plus, if you're moderately antisocial like I am, this allows you to help people without actually spending time with people--you're in a sound-proof booth!)Tomorrow, and every Friday this November, I'm going to run a series of entries on how to replace nightshades, since, if you are allergic to nightshades, or just ever try to avoid them, you'll know that you need a little help sometimes. Or a lot of the time. Or every time you open a cookbook. Stay tuned!
Labels:
cornbread,
philanthropy,
Stew,
vegan brunch,
VeganMoFo
10.25.2007
a stew by any other name...
For most of my life, I have hated soups, stews, and chilis. I hated their very soupiness, the fact that everything kinda tastes the same in them, the fact that they are neither entirely liquid (drink) or solid (food). But I love curries. And in some cookbook I read once, the author called curries "Indian stews." I realized I'm just stubborn, and it's all about the flavor of the soup/stew, not the name. So last year I started to try soups, and now I've tried my hand at stew... so I'm acclimating. Expect a (tomato-free!) chili sometime this winter.
I made up this stew last night, and I'm very happy with how it worked out. I'd never made stew before, but a few friends came over for an impromptu dinner and the only veggies I had were root veggies. There are no pictures because I forgot to take photos when I was setting up everyone's plate, and we ate it all! But it was GORGEOUS, all orange and brown and beige, with a nice stewy sauce that serves as a great gravy.
Out of the four of us eating last night, two had never known the wonder that is the rutabaga. In case you, too, are a stranger to the great Neep (scottish phrase), let me give you a brief description:

Rutabagas are like radishes, just less watery. They don't have the same spicy taste - they're more cabbage-y in flavor. They are, in fact, a cross between a cabbage and a turnip. Prepare them like a potato: wash well, cut off outer skin, cut. Bake or boil till tender. Very simple, very stew- or soup-friendly.
Autumn Root Stew
(serves 4 quite comfortably)
1-2 Tbsp olive oil
4-5 cloves of garlic, cut into quarters.
2 -3 large (or 4-5 small) parsnips, sliced
3 large carrots, sliced
1 large (2-3 medium) rutabaga, peeled and cut into 1/2-inch cubes
Water
1/2 tsp black pepper
1 Tbsp sage
1 Tbsp thyme
2 tsp parsley
pinch each oregano, rosemary (optional - or whatever spices you like)
1-2 Tbsp vinegar
1 Tbsp cornstarch
1 tsp miso
salt to taste
In a big pan, saute the garlic, carrot, and parsnips over medium heat until slightly soft and fragrant (5-10 minutes). Add the rutabaga, stir, then add enough water to reach the top layer of veggies - but not to cover. Raise heat to high. Add spices and vinegar. When the stew boils, turn the heat down to medium-high, cover, stir occasionally. Let stew (ha!) for 10-15 minutes. You can use this time to make sure your guests (or you) are comfortable and have enough to drink.
In a cup or small bowl, combine the cornstarch with about 1/4 cup water. Stir well, until all of the cornstarch is dissolved. Add to the pot, cook uncovered and stir often. Over the next 5-10 minutes, the cornstarch will help thicken up the sauce. Once the consistency gets to the thickness you want, dissolve the miso into about 1/4 cup water, then stir into your stew. Remove from heat; serve over millet (or bread or biscuits or... a grain) on a bed of spinach.
Note: An onion would be nice in this, too, but I made Mashed Millet from Christina Pirello's Cooking with Whole Foods, which is very oniony, so I decided against adding more onions to the meal. If you want to add onions, saute them in the beginning with the other veggies.
Fun note: in Scotland, people used to carve turnips instead of pumpkins for halloween. So if you find yourself with a leftover rutabaga, carve it up!
I made up this stew last night, and I'm very happy with how it worked out. I'd never made stew before, but a few friends came over for an impromptu dinner and the only veggies I had were root veggies. There are no pictures because I forgot to take photos when I was setting up everyone's plate, and we ate it all! But it was GORGEOUS, all orange and brown and beige, with a nice stewy sauce that serves as a great gravy.
Out of the four of us eating last night, two had never known the wonder that is the rutabaga. In case you, too, are a stranger to the great Neep (scottish phrase), let me give you a brief description:

Rutabagas are like radishes, just less watery. They don't have the same spicy taste - they're more cabbage-y in flavor. They are, in fact, a cross between a cabbage and a turnip. Prepare them like a potato: wash well, cut off outer skin, cut. Bake or boil till tender. Very simple, very stew- or soup-friendly.
Autumn Root Stew
(serves 4 quite comfortably)
1-2 Tbsp olive oil
4-5 cloves of garlic, cut into quarters.
2 -3 large (or 4-5 small) parsnips, sliced
3 large carrots, sliced
1 large (2-3 medium) rutabaga, peeled and cut into 1/2-inch cubes
Water
1/2 tsp black pepper
1 Tbsp sage
1 Tbsp thyme
2 tsp parsley
pinch each oregano, rosemary (optional - or whatever spices you like)
1-2 Tbsp vinegar
1 Tbsp cornstarch
1 tsp miso
salt to taste
In a big pan, saute the garlic, carrot, and parsnips over medium heat until slightly soft and fragrant (5-10 minutes). Add the rutabaga, stir, then add enough water to reach the top layer of veggies - but not to cover. Raise heat to high. Add spices and vinegar. When the stew boils, turn the heat down to medium-high, cover, stir occasionally. Let stew (ha!) for 10-15 minutes. You can use this time to make sure your guests (or you) are comfortable and have enough to drink.
In a cup or small bowl, combine the cornstarch with about 1/4 cup water. Stir well, until all of the cornstarch is dissolved. Add to the pot, cook uncovered and stir often. Over the next 5-10 minutes, the cornstarch will help thicken up the sauce. Once the consistency gets to the thickness you want, dissolve the miso into about 1/4 cup water, then stir into your stew. Remove from heat; serve over millet (or bread or biscuits or... a grain) on a bed of spinach.
Note: An onion would be nice in this, too, but I made Mashed Millet from Christina Pirello's Cooking with Whole Foods, which is very oniony, so I decided against adding more onions to the meal. If you want to add onions, saute them in the beginning with the other veggies.
Fun note: in Scotland, people used to carve turnips instead of pumpkins for halloween. So if you find yourself with a leftover rutabaga, carve it up!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
