Aprovechar

When I saw Heidi’s coconut macaroon pancakes, I knew I had to try them. When my friend Les saw them independently, she felt the same way. We integrated them in to our simplicity circle retreat meal plan. When the time arrived to make them, we altered them to be gluten-free and egg-free, and we hoped for the best.

And boy, were we rewarded. Yum. I have missed (normally eggy) macaroons, and these pancakes were so deliciously reminiscent of macaroons that I kept eating bits of broken pancakes (and, okay, a couple of whole ones) long before they made it to the table, long before we topped them with delicious Grade-B maple syrup. (’Grade A’ doesn’t always mean better–I discovered Grade B syrup when Dan and I wed in Vermont. It has a deeper, richer flavor that I almost always prefer.) To be honest, I’m not sure the pancakes even need the syrup. This weekend, when I make them again, I plan to top the pancakes with sliced bananas and toasted pecan pieces.

These pancakes are ‘pancakes’ in the sense that they are flat-ish and cooked on a griddle with a bit of oil. Think of the consistency of shredded potato pancakes, and replace the savory potato with sweet coconut. Or imagine a flattened macaroon with a bit more connective dough to it. Not your typical pancake, but delicious any way you perceive it. I’ll be making these again and again. . . .

Gluten-Free, Egg-Free, Soy-Free, Dairy-Free Coconut Macaroon Pancakes

(We doubled the original recipe to feed six adults a hearty breakfast; below is the doubled recipe, though of course you could halve it. We still had several pancakes left over when we were full, so the next day, we crumbled them and stirred them into banana bread dough. An excellent reuse! . . . If you want to put breakfast together quickly, I would encourage you to make the dough the night before and refrigerate it. And with this large a batch to cook, get two pans or a double-eye pan going if you can to speed up the pancake-cooking process.)

2 14-ounce cans of coconut milk
4 tablespoons honey/agave nectar
1/2 cup Bob’s Red Mill gluten-free pancake mix + 1 t. baking powder (or another gf flour mix of your choice + 4 t. baking powder)
4 cups unsweetened dried shredded coconut
scant teaspoon fine-grain sea salt
6 T flax meal mixed with 1 c. + 2 T. water (Whisk with a fork and let sit for two minutes before using)
1/4 cup organic brown sugar (Seriously, try the organic–it’s so much tastier.)

In a small saucepan heat the coconut milk and honey/agave, bringing it barely to a simmer.

In a separate large bowl, combine the flour, baking powder (using appropriate amount per flour you’re using), coconut, and salt. Stir the coconut milk into the flour mixture. Whisk in the egg replacer mix.

Heat your favorite non-stick (or very well-seasoned) skillet, pan, or griddle to medium-hot and brush it with a bit of ghee or other oil. Test for the right temperature. If a drop of water dropped onto the pan starts to dance, you are in the ballpark. Drop a heaping tablespoon into the skillet, and flatten it with a floured or dampened spatula. (Heidi says they’ll spread on their own, but ours did not.) Sprinkle the top of the cooking pancakes with a bit of brown sugar. Wait until the pancake bottom is deep golden in color, then flip with a spatula and cook the other side until golden and cooked through. Repeat with the remaining batter, adding more oil to the pan as needed.

(We kept the finished pancakes warm on an oven-proof plate in a 200-degree oven while the remainder cooked.)

A photo of me at around 215 pounds

A photo of me at 163

(To see more photos of my transition, click here.  As a side note, I’m a big proponent of the “embrace what God gave you” philosophy, so the above photo of me with straight hair is only the third time in my life I’ve let someone straighten it.  But what can I say–I was feeling a bit bored with myself that day!)

It’s been slow-going with my weight loss lately; I’ve spent a lot of time (as happens sometimes in weight loss) bouncing back and forth in a 2-pound range.  But this past week, my weight finally tipped down and stayed there (I weigh nearly daily) so that on Saturday, I weighed in at 163.6.  That brings me to exactly a 40-lb. loss from my Jan. 1, 2007 weight of 203.6 and a 60-plus-pound loss from my highest weight of around 225.

Ya think giving up all dairy starting last week might have had something to do with this downward nudge? I sure do.  Cheese—delicious, delicious cheese—averages about 100 calories and 6-9 grams of fat per ounce.  Do you realize how big an ounce of cheese is? Strictly speaking, it depends on the density of the cheese, but start with a single die for really dense cheese (cheddar, pecorino), and expand a little from that (2 dice) for cheeses that are less dense (mozzarella).  I knew this measurement—learned it many years ago in a bout of WW membership—and have utilized the knowledge to be careful about how much cheese I add to foods in the last year and a half.  However, the size of my cheese servings has crept up over time, I must admit.  And instead of utilizing a small amount of cheese as an occasional high-fat, high-calorie treat, I had started to indulge a bit too often purely based on calories/fat/cholesterol/etc., even if you discount the other dairy issues I have.  Obviously, that won’t be an issue now!

Everyone has to find what works for him/her, but if you want to read a bit more about dairy and how much of a role it should play in your diet/life, check these links.

As far as my general outlook on weight loss and myself at this point, I’m really in such a happy place with how I handle food.  My diet isn’t perfect (and I don’t aim for perfection these days), but I generally eat healthfully.  I have occasional indulgences and eat a small bit of dessert (an ounce of chocolate, a 2″ cookie—something like that) about every other day.  I pay attention to how I feel when I’m eating, and I usually stop when I feel the first nudge from my brain that says I’ve reached the satiety point, whether that means leaving half the food on my plate, leaving two bites on my plate, or finishing the whole meal (which only happens if I’m careful with portion sizes—even now, it’s easy to heap my plate too high!).  If I don’t stop when I hit that point, I regret it almost immediately when I grow stuffed and uncomfortable, and I keep that regret in mind when I am tempted to eat more than I actually want and need.   I still have to watch my relationship with food to make sure I don’t start relying on it to try to fill needs that are entirely unrelated to food (and which food can’t fill, anyway) while still enjoying—while thoroughly relishing, to be more exact—what I can have.  That involves making healthy food that’s fresh (almost always organic and often local), flavorful, and fun.  It involves moving my body on a regular basis.  It involves taking care of myself emotionally and physically to the best of my ability—of listening to myself.  I read an article a few months ago where the author, who had lost a chunk of weight, said that she knew that the more slowly it came off, the easier it would be to keep off.  That is aligned with my philosophy, as well; if I can’t live with how I’m eating forever, then losing weight utilizing it won’t help me in the long run.  And the skills and pleasures and growth related to this whole process have meant a lot more to me than just weight loss; they’ve meant becoming more of a self-actualized person.

My dairy-free month is going well so far—one might even say too well.  As in, it appears the sheep and goat dairy was contributing some, um, lower-GI upset to my life.  Will I be able to add a bit of it back in later—perhaps just some goat yogurt (since I can’t have soy, after all)? We’ll see.  In the meantime, it’s actually been a bit of a fun challenge to come up with dairy-free meals that keep me satisfied.  Here’s my meal plan for the week, which is, as always, gluten-free, egg-free, soy-free, and casein-free.  It also focuses on my locally available ingredients and fairly healthy dishes that are high in veggies and moderate in fat.

Monday, May 5th

Dinner: Tarragon tuna salad sandwiches (alas, no cheese this time) topped with Romaine lettuce and sliced tomatoes with a side of garlicky green beans; chocolate spice cookies

Tuesday, May 6th

Dinner: Easy Tamale Casserole (eliminating the meat, using flax meal egg replacer and a milk alternative mixed with lemon juice in lieu of buttermilk) with Amarinthia’s guacamole, and sauteed Southwestern mustard greens

Wednesday, May 7th

Dinner: Beth J.’s salmon with honey mustard/pecan/bread crumb topping and grilled artichokes and asparagus

Thursday, May 8th

To Do: Attend photography class from 8-10 p.m.

Dinner: 3R stir-fry

Friday, May 9th

Dinner: Go out to eat.

Saturday, May 10th

To Do: Work 9:30 a.m. to noon. Send Dan to the farmer’s market!

Lunch: Black bean taco salad with guac and lime vinaigrette

To Do: Make pancake batter for the next day!

Dinner: Take picnic to Shakespeare play with group of 10 friends (For those of you in the Atlanta area, it’ll be a donation-only showing of A Mid-Summer Night’s Dream recast into the early ’70’s!) Dan and I will take Thai-Style Lettuce Wraps with (egg-free!) coconut panna cotta (from Super Natural Foods) and a bottle of Riesling.

Sunday, May 11th

Brunch: Macaroon pancakes with bananas and pecans (recipe to be posted shortly!)

To Do: Make gluten-free ‘honey whole wheat’ bread

Snack: PB&J sandwich

Dinner: Grilled Thai chicken burgers on millet buns, sweet potato fries, and S’mores for dessert

Cooking Illustrated is hosting this week’s Gluten-Free Menu Swap; I’ll be submitting my menu plan to her momentarily!

This was the sequence of events:

One of the other simplicity members and I had both taken note of Heidi Swanson’s macaroon pancake recipe. We decided to make it on our retreat.

I took it upon myself to gush to the group about Heidi’s blog: the amazing photos, the natural ingredients, the quality recipes. Then I went on to tell the group that she has a new cookbook out, as well—and as I waxed poetic about the cookbook (which I have looked at repeatedly at book stores), I thought, You know, I should stop talking about it and just buy the damn thing.

So later in the weekend, when we stopped at the big independent bookstore in Asheville, I did just that. And tonight, I made a recipe out of the cookbook for the first time: Creamy Wild Rice Soup with Sweet Potato Croutons.

Yum. Rich, warm, flavorful, satisfying, and healthy, this vegan recipe is a real winner. Of course, I had to tweak it for my allergies and my taste—and I threw in some kale because we had it from our CSA and I wanted some green in there. Here’s my Sally-friendly version, with enormous credit to Heidi:

Creamy Wild Rice Soup with Sweet Potato Croutons
(Adapted from Heidi Swanson’s Super Natural Cooking)

3 T. coconut oil
2 t. red curry paste
2-3 cloves garlic, chopped
1 shallot, chopped
1 c. wild and brown rice mix, rinsed
5 c. water
1-2 orange sweet potatoes, peeled and cut into 1/4″ dice
fine grain sea salt
2-3 c. kale, rib removed, sliced into thin ribbons
1 T. turmeric
1 T. natural cane sugar
2 t. molasses
1 t. toasted sesame oil
1 t. sea salt
14-oz. can full-fat coconut milk
1 lime, sliced into wedges

Heat 1 T. of the coconut oil in a heavy soup pot on medium-high heat. When the oil is hot, add the curry paste, garlic, shallot, and onion and saute for 3-4 min., until the onion begins to soften. Stir the curry paste to disburse it well.

Stir in the wild rice and 3 c. of the water. Bring to a simmer, reduce the heat, and cover. Cook 40-50 minutes, or until the rice starts to soften and split. (Check by taste.)

Meanwhile, prepare the sweet potato croutons. Warm the remaining coconut oil in a skillet over med.-high heat. Add the cubed potatoes and a few pinches of salt. Toss to coat the potatoes. Cook 3-5 min. longer, until bottoms of the cubes begin to brown. Flip the sweet potatoes, and let another side brown lightly. Flip again. Continue until the potatoes are cooked through and mostly crispy on the outside. Turn off the burner.

When the wild rice is tender, stir in the remaining ingredients except for the lime juice. Let cook 5-10 minutes longer, until the kale is lightly cooked (still bright green) and the flavors have melded a bit. Ladle into bowls, being sure to dip the ladle in deeply to get the rice from the bottom. Squirt a bit of lime in each bowl. Sprinkle a generous helping of sweet potato croutons on each serving. Enjoy!

Because this dish is so rich in antioxidants, I’m submitting it to the Cooking to Combat Cancer event that Chris at Mele Cotte is holding.  If you want to submit a recipe for inclusion, Tuesday is the last day!

There are three elements complicating my meal plan this week:

1. My brother is in town visiting me and my husband.  My brother was once an extremely picky eater, but basic training in the Air Force cured him of that malady. (3 minutes to eat and you feel like you’re starving? Shovel in whatever’s in front of you and learn to like it.) However, even though he no longer literally turns his nose up at the sight of a vast array of foods, he would certainly generally pick more Standard American Diet foods than my husband and I generally eat. (I think Doritos and Mountain Dew might be his combination of choice.) Normally, I’d just be like, Great, he gets to experiment by experiencing what we usually eat. To be honest, I think I usually make some pretty damn good food, so other than people’s actual food restrictions or occasional extreme dislikes, I kinda serve whatever food I normally would and let the guests sort it out themselves.  But . . . my brother just got back from serving in Korea for several months, and while he was there, he ate all sorts of gross MREs.  (In general, he didn’t have a great experience; his time there included living with some insane stranger bunkmates and having the girlfriend he was planning to propose to break up with him.)  He’s home now and craving familiar foods, and I don’t want to entirely ignore that.  So I’m trying to make some comfort food for him without dissolving our regular routine.

2. This weekend, my simplicity circle (which has a post in draft form that I just need to finish up already!) took a retreat to the mountains of North Carolina.  We had some tasty food—and I did a lot of the meal planning, so I’m certainly not complaining—but the meals we had (plus desserts, plus drinks) tended toward the heavy side. If I eat one heavy meal in a day, the other is usually lighter.  So I came home craving some spa fare—quite the contrast from my expectations of what my brother desires.

3. I’ve been having some stomach upset, and after talking to Cheryl a bit and rechecking with my doctor, I’m going to try cutting out all kinds of dairy (including sheep, goat, etc.) on top of the cow dairy to see if every kind of dairy is contributing to my continuing illness.  From now until the end of May, that means no pecorino, no goat yogurt, etc.  (Of course, if I start feeling better, cutting out the dairy will be permanent.) It’s amazing (but natural) how quickly you come to rely on certain foods when you have to cut out others, and I’ve been no exception with my goat and sheep dairy consumption.  So this week’s meal planning took a bit more time than recent weeks, and I’m on the search for easy, relatively healthy, incredible-tasting, dairy-free meals that are also free of gluten, soy, and eggs to avoid my other allergens/intolerances. (Have one I should try? Please leave me a link or recipe in the comments!)

Here’s what I came up with for the week:

Monday

Dinner: Creamy Wild Rice Soup with Sweet Potato Croutons–from my latest cookbook purchase, Super Natural Cooking by Heidi Swanson (of 101 Cookbooks fame)

Tuesday

Dinner: Melissa’s Walnut Hummus (with honey in lieu of garlic–an experiment!) on Cabbage

Wednesday

To Do: Work late (7-ish)

Dinner: Dan makes Grilled Burgers topped with Avocado-Based Mayo Sub, Grilled Vidalia Spring Onions, and Grilled Yellow Peppers, and a side of roasted sweet potato fries

Thursday

To Do: First photography class!

Dinner: Carrie’s Belgian waffles (made egg-free) with Fresh Ginger-Strawberry Topping, Whipped Coconut Cream, and Organic Chicken Sausage

Friday

Dinner: Pizza & Movie Night: Homemade Vegan Thai Pizza with Peanut Sauce, Peanuts, Cilantro, Grated Carrots, Broccoli, Green Onions, and Sprouts

Saturday

To Do: First day of this year’s Piedmont Park Farmer’s Market!

Lunch: Muhammara-Slathered Kabobs (also from Super Natural Cooking) with chicken instead of tofu

Dinner: Go out to eat with peeps who want to see my brother

Sunday

Lunch: (Cheese-less) Cilantro-and-Brazil-Nut Pesto on Pasta with Chickpeas, Tomatoes, and Zucchini

Dinner: Ricki’s Nut Loaf with Roasted Red Potato Chunks and Garlicky Steamed Broccoli

As always, I’ll be adding my meal plan to the Gluten-Free Menu Swap.  Asparagus Thin is hosting this week’s Gluten-Free Menu Swap, so pop over to her site if you want to see other people’s meals!

When I was 22, I had my first major abdominal surgery. Prior to my surgery, I had been in a period of body loathing. Part of that loathing came from malfunctions in my body that were very frustrating (malfunctions probably related to the cancerous tumors I had removed along with one of my ovaries). I now know that what I was experiencing in terms of repeated infections, exhaustion, bloating, etc. were symptoms of what I had and my body trying to cope with that—but at the time, it was just enormously aggravating to not understand why things were going wrong. To put it in simple terms, I felt angry at my body for not taking care of me and working like it should. Additionally, various life events and internal events had led me to a stage where I wasn’t taking good care of myself in terms of eating, exercise, emotional health, sleep, etc. I was avoiding my body; I avoided touching it, looking at it, thinking about it, etc.

I had a long healing process from surgery. I don’t react well to incisions of any kind (that eyebrow piercing in college? bad idea), and despite my work to the contrary, my surgical incision—about 10 inches long across my abdomen, through skin, fat, and muscle—grew deeply infected. I won’t get into the details too deeply here (be grateful, unless you’re into gruesome things), but having to heal the infection in addition to healing the actual incision and muscles and my mind and spirit—well, it was a lot to cope with, especially as a senior in college. And I won’t lie to you and make it sound like the whole experience was a bouquet of daisies, because it certainly wasn’t. I lost many friends (people have a hard time with the c-word), I fell behind in classes, and I wondered what would become of me. Moreover, going through another surgery a year, for the same cancer regenerated, pushed me emotionally to the edge of collapse at one point. There were many times in those two years that I thought, I don’t know how much more of this I can do.

But.

As I told a friend who is going through some (partially self-inflicted) difficult times right now, we can either let the shitty things that happen to us just be shitty things, or we can let them be catalysts for our growth. There’s partly an active process to that (”How do I get meaning from this?”) and there’s partly a passive process (”How do I leave myself open to more than bitterness from this experience?”).

There were a variety of things I learned, over time, from my experience of having cancer and having those major surgeries. One thing I gained was an epiphany about my body: as fat/wonky/ungraceful/whatever as I saw myself, while I recovered from the surgery, I developed an appreciation of what my body could increasingly do. Emerging from a time when I could do very little, I appreciated what returned to me. I could laugh without pain! I could lift my arm without pain! I could walk the entire length of the hall without stopping from pain and exhaustion! I could carry a 10-pound box again! The simple became profound. I grew more aware of how all the muscles in my body are tied together. Instead of just feeling my depression and anxiety over what my body could not do at that time—fend off most illnesses, run a mile, fit in a size-10 dress—I instead grew impressed by how my body, and all bodies, function.

Of course, as happens with many epiphanies, I have struggled to retain the intensity of what I learned about myself in that time period. But I think of it sometimes—when I’m feeling negative about my body, when I am pushing myself while I’m running. I remember what it was like to need assistance sitting up. I remember when it was a struggle to walk down the hall. And I smile at what I regained and what I can do and how far I have come from those days. I remind myself–cerebrally and emotionally—how very much gratitude I have for the ability to move through life with relative ease.

Since January of 2007, I’ve been working to take better care of my body and my entire self. I started walking in January ‘07 and started learning to run in March ‘07 starting with running at 90 seconds at a time. A year later, I consider a 1- or 1.5-mi run a short run. For many athletic people, that would be considered hardly a work-out at all. But I run my short runs at a quicker pace than I run my longer runs, and I am still amazed and pleased that I have gotten to a point in my life where regular exercise is a happy, stress-relieving part of my routine instead of something I don’t do or something I dread doing.

And that exercise—the exercise and the other forms of self-care—enables me in other ways. I thought about that last Saturday when I spent my whole day on the first day of a local Habitat for Humanity build. Though I don’t write about my work on this blog, I work for a large Habitat affiliate. I work in an office; my work has to do with supporting people and engaging people in their own lives financially, spiritually, emotionally, and educationally (well, and it has to do with a whole lot of paperwork, of course). My work is typically white-collar social work; it is the type of cerebral and emotional work I would have always hoped and expected to have in my life. I didn’t grow up valuing the physical, and until last Saturday, I had never spent a whole day on a build site before. On the build site, I came with little knowledge but a willingness to serve: from 8-4:30, I was busy hammering nails, holding boards in place, helping lift walls into place, asking questions, and occasionally stopping to take photos of the day’s progress. I did work that, just a year or two ago, would have been very difficult for me to manage physically, at least for a whole day. I would have been worn out too quickly; I would have been too weak.  I would have gotten too hot. Now, I can do it. And I loved it—I loved being out there and being physically involved in the construction of the house. I loved how the physical exertion in the construction of the house regrounded me in the primary end result of my work efforts. I have, at this time in my life, the ability to provide support to this program with my body as well as my mind and heart. I don’t take that for granted: I treasure it. And I’ll do what I can to maintain it, which means taking good care of myself for the rest of my life.

(I took my builder friend Greg out on site with me. He’s explaining something about wood to me here. You can’t see, but we’re up on ladders at the top of the wall.)

What is this? Just a strawberry, right? Oh, no–no, my friend. This is one of the first strawberries of the season in Georgia.

Unlike many CSAs, my CSA provides subscribers (for an additional fee) the option of picking and choosing what we’ll receive from the local produce/products they currently have available. Two weeks ago, when I visited the CSA website to pick what I wanted, I clicked on the link for available fruits and nearly jumped out of my chair. The first Georgia strawberries had come in, and they were certified organic, too! Noting the high price, I ordered just a pint instead of the vast quantity I considered. When I arrived home, I bounced up and down gleefully as I told my husband that we were going to have strawberries coming in. “Okay,” he responded pleasantly but calmly, seeming a bit confused. I am certainly the more excitable of the two of us, but I’m also the meal planner. I realized I had a bit more explaining to do.

“Do you realize we haven’t had strawberries to eat since last summer?”

“Oh–have we really not?”

“No, they haven’t been in season since then. The only strawberries we’ve had since last summer have been in jam!”

And truthfully, we didn’t have many strawberries last year at all—a late-season Easter frost killed most of Georgia’s strawberry crop, among others. (This year, in the next two months, I plan to go out to a you-pick place so I can preserve strawberries to eat when the season ends.)

Now, I know that at any time in the last year, I could have gone to Wal-Mart, or Kroger, or Whole Foods, and I could have bought some strawberries from California or Chile or Peru. But strawberries taste best fresh, and buying strawberries from a far-flung location—even if the strawberries are organic, as nearly everything I buy is—would mean contributing a whole lot of calories of oil energy, its inherent pollution, and its contribution to climate change, for the sake of me eating something that was subpar, something I could eat in much finer form if I just waited a few months. I don’t eat everything in season, but I try as much as I can. And good strawberries are worth waiting for.

Do you ever get the feeling that there’s little on the planet that’s exciting anymore–that, having nearly everything available to us, right at our fingertips, it’s hard to feel all that thrilled by life? Do you ever feel like the choices we have are sometimes just overwhelming? Maybe even depressing? Choosing to eat seasonally is one way to take back a sense of appreciation, a way to utilize limitations to provide a sense of excitement and nourishment rather than deprivation. Rare things are precious, and learning to eat seasonally makes foods rotate from abundance to rarity (or non-existence) on a regular basis–it makes various foods precious, and exciting, as the year revolves. Choosing to eat seasonally is a way to learn to eat a variety of fresh, whole foods and naturally rotate foods over the course of a year. It’s a way to eat foods in their freshest state, which means when they are highest in their nutrients. It’s also a way to contribute your money directly to the local economy, and, as I mentioned, to decrease the impact your life’s consumption is having on the planet and its current and future in habitants. For me, eating seasonally—eating locally produced foods—provides a homey structure for what I choose to prepare for our meals. It is inspiring, and it is comforting.

After I placed my CSA order, I had 6 days to daydream about what to do with those sweet first-of-season strawberries. When they arrived, I savored a few straight-up as soon as I got the package home. Chewy, sweet, with the zing of the tiny seeds–delicious. I continued to ponder the strawberries for the next couple of days. Then I realized my second loaf of the fantastic gluten-free, vegan bread (see recipe in previous post) was going a bit stale. The inspiration appeared: I used the rest of the strawberries for a chocolate-strawberry bread pudding, where the strawberries baked up as a jammy contrast to the rich, smooth chocolate and chewy bread. And, of course, I had to share it with friends, and I had to freeze some to serve my husband when he arrived home from his trip. Precious things are often more fun when they’re enjoyed in community.

Chocolate-Strawberry Bread Pudding with (Optional) Rum Sauce
(Gluten-Free, Egg-Free, Soy-Free, Dairy-Free, Vegan)

5 T. unsweetened cocoa
1-2 T. hot water
2 c. milk alternative (I used vanilla almond milk)
Egg replacer equivalent of 2 eggs
1/2 c. sugar
dash of salt
2 t. vanilla extract
1 T. Kahlua (optional)
3-4 c. stale bread, cut or torn into small pieces
3/4 c. strawberries
1/2 c. chocolate chips or chunks

In a small bowl or ramekin, use a fork to whisk the cocoa with the hot water. (Start with 1 T and work up from there, if necessary.) In a large bowl, combine the cocoa mixture, milk alternative, egg replacer, sugar, salt, vanilla, and Kahlua. Add the bread, strawberries, and chocolate chunks, and mix well. Bake in 6-8 ramekins for ~25 minutes or in a casserole dish for ~1 hour–until the top mostly firms up.

Optional Rum Sauce
(I couldn’t decide whether I liked it better with or without)

1/2 c. margarine, ghee, or shortening
1/2 c. powdered sugar
1/4 c. dark rum
1 t. vanilla
1/4 t. ground nutmeg

In a mixing bowl, beat the margarine/ghee until fluffy. Add the powdered sugar, rum, vanilla, and nutmeg. Beat on high speed for two minutes. Spoon over the pudding. (Sauce will soften when spooned.)

It’s been nearly a year since I was diagnosed with serious food allergies, which was followed pretty closely by me being diagnosed with atypical celiac disease. (A set of food allergies often indicates a further gastrointestinal issue at the heart of the allergies.) For nearly a year, I’ve gone without really good bread–and for the most part, I’ve adjusted. Before my diagnoses, I had already cut back the number of starches I consume, limiting my starch preparation to one kind per meal in the process of taking care of myself. After all, I figured, do I really need bread and potatoes, or cornbread and rice, at the same meal? Unlikely–the calories usually stack up way past the nutrients when starches are doubled. After my diagnoses, for most of my meals, I’ve either used an alternate starch or just skipped the starch—and will continue to do so.

But there’s something about bread, right? And I’ve missed that something. So when I came across a gluten-free, soy-free, egg-free, dairy-free (vegan) bread recipe reputed to be great for sandwiches, I had to give it a try. My hopes were not too high, because I have altered and tried several well-reviewed gluten-free bread recipes that have not turned out so well. It’s hard to make good bread when you’re cutting out the soy, dairy, and eggs in addition to the gluten, because those other ingredients are often used to prop up what breads are lacking from the gluten. But this one I could make purely as it was written, and that excited me.

Mixing the various flours for the bread, I relished the experience. I thought, Even if the bread doesn’t come out right (and it probably won’t), this is fun. It was a bit like playing in the mud or in some rain puddles as a child. Some of the very starchy, light flours I was using puffed clouds into the air as I measured them out. As I continued to measure and combine flours, I looked down to realize I was covered in smears and streaks of the various flours. A friend arrived at my apartment, and she laughed at my powdery coating. “Why didn’t you wear an apron?” I just shrugged and grinned.

Once I had combined the flours, the bread came together very quickly in the mixer–but not without me managing to splatter my bluejeans with dough (I do not claim physical grace as one of my virtues). The bread rose on top of the warm oven and then baked inside it. Another friend, upon arrival, sighed in pleasure as the heavenly scent of baking bread reached her nose.

When I pulled the bread out of the oven, I frowned as I pulled off the aluminum foil: the color was not quite was I expecting–it was lighter–and there were mottled streaks in the bread. I thumped the top of one loaf, and it sounded right–just hollow enough on the interior. I held my breath as I sliced into it–crunchy outside, soft interior. But what would the taste be? I was torn between feeling dubious and hopeful. I took a bite and chewed. And closed my eyes. And felt a surge of pure joy. Then I opened my eyes and wondered, Do I think this is great purely based on my loss of the ability to remember gluten-y things correctly? I called a friend to the kitchen pass-through window. This friend was recently diagnosed with severe food allergies–it causes a chain reaction of diagnoses when people around you see your symptoms and healing and get tested themselves. Because she had only gone without gluten for three weeks at that point, I knew she’d be a better judge of the comparison to regular bread. “Taste this,” I said, holding out a piece of bread and offering no further information. She took a bite and closed her eyes. When she opened her eyes, they filled with tears. Her face flushed, and she looked a bit embarrassed. “It’s okay to cry,” I said. “It is that good.”

“It’s real bread,” she replied with a teary smile, and asked for another slice.

We sat down to dinner–two gluten-avoiders, two gluten-eaters–and together, we demolished a loaf over the course of the meal.

Mark Engelberg’s Gluten-Free, Vegan Bread

Recipe for 2 loaves

Note: You do need a mixer with a good engine–an inexpensive or old mixer’s engine could break from the thickness of the dough.

In a large mixing bowl combine:

1 1/2 cups millet flour
1/2 cup amaranth flour or 1/2 c. teff flour (I use teff–don’t like the smell of baked amaranth)
1 cup sorghum flour
1 cup cornstarch
1 cup potato starch (some people have doubled the potato starch and left out the cornstarch if they can’t have cornstarch)
1 cup tapioca flour
4 tsp xanthan gum
1 Tbsp salt
1/2 cup sugar
1/4 cup active dry yeast (not rapid rise)

Add:

4 tsp olive oil
3 1/4 cup warm water (not hot)

Mix with electric mixer–using paddle attachment, NOT regular beaters or bread hook–for two minutes.

Pour into two nonstick loaf pans, place on a warm surface (such as on top of the pre-heated oven), and cover with a towel. Allow to rise for 70 minutes (batter should take up about half the loaf pan before rising, and extend a bit over the top of the loaf pan after rising).

Bake at 400 minutes for 10 minutes. Remove loaf pans from oven and cover with aluminum foil. Return to oven and bake for an additional 45-50 minutes.

As with most breads, it is easiest to slice if you allow it to fully cool. (I usually let it cool for a little bit, and then remove the loaves from the pans and place on a cooling rack to cool the rest of the way.) The bread tastes delicious warm, dipped in olive oil and herbs or spread with honey and ghee. It also works well for sandwiches after it has cooled. If you won’t be eating it within 2 days, wrap it in a couple of layers of plastic wrap and refrigerate or freeze it after it’s cooled.

Another note: I would love to hear from a dietician (or other knowledgeable source) about how the nutritional value of the various ingredients comes together in this bread. I know the potato starch and cornstarch have little nutritional value; does the addition of millet and teff make it a stronger food nutritionally, or is this bread the gluten-free equivalent of Wonder Bread?

I successfully kept myself busy while my husband was gone (some might say overly busy), he’s come home from Europe safely, and he brought me gluten-free pasta from Italy! I hear it’s going to be fabulous, so I’m really excited about it.  Nonetheless, I’m holding off on using any this week because I’d already gotten my meal plan in place when he gave me my gifts.  It’s fun to have something to look forward to, anyway.

Below is my meal plan for this week.  In addition to this meal plan, now that my anemia has subsided, I am making an effort to engage myself in intentional physical activity each day.  Most days it has been walking or going on a long (for me) run, but I also count helping a friend move and doing some serious physical labor at work one recent day.  One of the first changes I made in my intentional self-care starting the beginning of last year was to move my body more–to do the cliched dieting things like parking my car further from the store, taking the stairs instead of an elevator, walking around at work more, etc.  And I still do all of that, but being a naturally silly person, I also like to throw in some extra motion for joy–skipping, hopping, jumping and clamping on to my husband for a piggy-back ride, etc.  Feeling lighter and more free to move really is glorious.

But back to my meal plan: as always, it’s gluten-free, cow casein-free (apparently I’ve been eating sheep and goat casein–more on this later), egg-free, and soy-free.  Due to the 3,000+ pollen count in Atlanta right now, it’s also tomato-free; my tomato allergy seems to cross-react and cause me worse problems in generally high-allergen periods.  My meal plan is generally healthy, low on processed foods, and pretty high on veggies.

Sunday

Lunch: Grilled pork chops with orange/ginger baste, roasted sweet potato fries, and steamed garlicky broccoli

To Do: Work 2 hours mid-day

Dinner: Make vegan, gluten-free bread for simplicity circle

Monday

Dinner: Dinner out at Food Studio

To Do: Go grocery shopping.

Tuesday

Dinner: Tuna melt (no tomato this time) and boxed veggie soup

To Do: Make breakfast foods, and freeze them.

Wednesday

Dinner: Beth’s honey dijon salmon, asparagus with double lemon and pecorino, and Seeger’s Vidalia onions

Thursday

Dinner: Sorta Thai Veggie Stir-Fry;

To Do: Shop for party.

Friday

Snack: Smoothie before party

Riesling Wine-Tasting Party: 5 kinds of Rieslings; Masaman or red Thai curry with rice and vegetables (keep warm in slow cooker); caramelized pineapple slices; plate of ham, sausages, Ibores, and Lumiere cheeses with TJ rice crisps; chocolate coconut truffles;

Saturday

Lunch: Take PB sandwich, chips, fruit, and water to Habitat build site;

Dinner: Pizza & Movie Night: Homemade rising crust pizza (with egg and dairy subs, made on on our new pizza stone!) topped with peanut sauce, shredded carrots, peanuts, green onions, cilantro and sprouts; a side of sliced mangoes;

Sunday

Lunch: Leftovers

Dinner: Wilted Cabbage & Brats

I’m submitting this meal plan to the Gluten-Free Menu Swap, which this week is being hosting by Karen at Gluten-Free Sox Fan (HA, Karen–I first typed Gluten-Free Sex Fan–but then, aren’t we all!)

. . . especially when one is eating alone and doesn’t commonly eat alone.

This was my lunch: organic spring greens, pickled beets, local organic chevre, and organic bacon with a champagne vinaigrette (champagne vinegar, a dash of smoked paprika, a dash of agave, olive oil).  Oh, and my staple glass of water, of course.

Prepared in less than 10 minutes, and very satisfying.