Simple. Perfect.

Another farm field trip this weekend introduced me to the beauty of fresh fava beans. I have sampled these buttery beauties a few times before, but only from a can or cooked from dried. Favas, sometimes referred to as broad beans, are now at their peak, and experiencing them fresh from the field is highly recommended.

Fava beans are in fact, members of the pea family. They are incredibly nutritious legumes, especially high in fiber, protein, iron, and folic acid. They are low in fat and sodium. Additionally, fava beans contain levodopa (L-dopa), a chemical the body uses to produce dopamine (the neurotransmitter associated with the brain's reward and motivation system). They can be eaten hot or cold, but they do not mash well, so making dips from them is not in your best interest. They work best as a filling for pitas and wraps, or in salads and stews.

Fava beans grow in pods, so they need to be shelled before consuming. Personally, I love the task of opening each perfect pod, revealing the pale green legumes inside. I marvel at each sheath as it miraculously holds every bean inside its velvety soft interior. It reminds me of how astounding nature is. Simple. Perfect. Yet I digress…


To prepare the fresh beans follow these instructions:
1. Remove beans from their pod.
2. Boil beans for 3-5 minutes until tender.
3. Remove beans from boiling water and immediately submerge them into an ice water bath to halt cooking.
4. Peel away the outer skin from beans.






Here is a recipe for the fava bean salad I made for dinner tonight. It is very easy to prepare and the simple ingredients highlight, instead of overwhelm, the delicate flavour of the fava beans.
This salad would also be nice mixed with quinoa, brown rice, and some crispy vegetables. A great side dish for any summer meal!
If you cannot find fresh fava beans, use canned or dried.


Simple Fava Bean Salad
Ingredients
1 cup fresh, cooked fava beans
2 Tbsp flat-leaf parsley, chopped
1 Tbsp olive oil
1 clove of garlic, minced
Squeeze of lemon juice
1/2 tsp. ground cumin (optional)
Sea salt to taste

Directions
1. Combine all ingredients.
2. Eat.
Simple. Perfect.

Italian Eggplant Recipe with Crumbled Beef, Tomatoes and Mint

Gluten-free eggplant recipe with crumbled beef, tomatoes and mint.

The classic Italian flavors are all here- eggplant, tomato, garlic, onion and oregano with a twist of fresh chopped mint nudging it over into Greek territory- but there's not a speck of gluten or dairy.

Mediterranean goodness on a plate.

This recipe is for those of us who miss eggplant Parmesan- a little something I threw together this week when my craving for a slab of eggplant Parm (as we called it back in Massachusetts) heated up to such a fever pitch that all I could think about was, How? How to translate a dish so fiercely reliant on a fried breadcrumb coating and slabs of melty Parmesan cheese? A dish so not gluten-free. Or dairy-free. Or lower glycemic friendly to this waist-whittling goddess.

Thin, weeped eggplant slices are brushed lightly with a little extra virgin olive oil and roasted in a hot oven- all by their lonesome. This makes for a delicate, slightly crispy eggplant slice, let me tell you. Topped with a homemade ragu of Italian tomatoes, browned ground organic beef with onions and garlic and herbs and a splash of balsamic vinegar- it's love, Mediterranean style. It is sustenance. It is flavor. And it's dairy-free.

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South Beach Diet Notes- Phase 1

Summer fresh organic yellow tomatoes topped with mint, thyme and scallions, then drizzled with extra virgin olive oil and balsamic vinegar. What more could you ask for? A low glycemic snack with my favorite Mediterranean flavors. And no b-word.

I'm deep into my first week on the South Beach Diet, whittling down my waist a half pound at a time. I am seeing a difference already. And what's really interesting- for this gluten-free pasta and muffin loving girl? After eating a lower glycemic index recipe I don't feel stuffed. Or heavy. Or that other word. The b-word. The word every celiac hates more than anything. Yup. You women out there know what I'm talking about it.

Bloated.

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The Best Way to Buy Groceries - Ever

Greetings everyone! I am back in Canada and what better way for me to slip back into my native country’s rhythms, than to visit the local farmer’s market? This weekend at my cottage, I went to my favourite stall at the modest market to buy the usual fruits and veggies that last me through the week. There were Mary and Chris, two organic farmers who I solely support, as they grow the most delicious, beautiful produce this side of the St. Lawrence. They are also incredibly friendly.

As I was putting a handful of basil in my basket, Mary inquired whether or not I was making pesto this year. I said that I wasn’t planning on it because of the cost – even at a farmer’s market, basil can run at prices too high to buy in the large quantities that pesto requires. She told me that she and Chris were selling “bulk basil” and asked me if I wanted to stop by the farm to snip my own? Mary doesn’t know me that well, so she didn’t realize that she had just offered me the golden ticket of happiness and opportunity. A farm field trip?! Nothing makes me happier. Except free, all-u-can-eat organic vegan buffets (still haven’t found one of those).

I traveled about eight kilometers out of town to their adorable little haven, situated on several acres of beautiful farmland and forest. They greeted me with warm smiles, eager to show me around the property and all the fruits of their labor. Chris proudly showed off his blackberry trellis, which he can angle according to the sun’s degree and time of year. Mary showed me her garden of lilies. They pulled fruits and vegetables off the bush and vine for me to taste, still warm from the late afternoon sun. “Now tell me that’s not the best cherry tomato (raspberry, blackberry, carrot…) you ever tasted!” Chris said excitedly. “That’s real, fresh food.” I couldn’t have agreed more.

As promised, Mary handed me a pair of scissors, a bag, and we both got to work harvesting basil for my future pesto sauce. What an experience, I thought. Here I am bent over a row of the most fragrant, delicious herbs with the woman who grew them organically from seed, who tended to them each and every day. She knew each plant intimately, cared for them as the living things that they are, and respected the land where they grew.

When we had harvested enough basil to sink a small ship, instead of waving me off so that they could get back to their incredibly busy schedule (the gardens don’t weed themselves!), Chris and Mary actually invited me into their home for tea. We sat for an hour discussing their journey into organic farming, the state of modern day food, and their plans for the future. It felt so good to meet like-minded people with such dedication to reducing their environmental footprint, and above all, a deep appreciation for real, fresh food.

On my way out, Mary went so far as to give me a hand-written recipe for her basil pesto, which is written below.

Basil Pesto
Ingredients:
2 oz. basil (about 5 lightly packed cups)
8 cloves of garlic
1 cup Parmesan (or better yet, hard sheep’s milk cheese such as Pecorino Romano)
2/3 cup pine nuts, toasted
3/4 cup organic, cold pressed, extra virgin olive oil
sea salt to taste

You can use nutritional yeast instead of cheese, but I would use less than 1 cup. Try making the pesto without cheese at all, which is what I did. Then add nutritional yeast to taste if you desire a more creamy consistency.

Directions:
1. In a food processor fitted with an S-blade mince garlic, cheese, nuts and salt.
2. Add clean, dry basil leaves and pulse until chopped.
3. With the machine running, add oil until it has reached the desired texture.

Tips: - The basil must be dry before you process it.
- Freeze pesto in ice cube trays. When frozen, transfer cubes to a freezer bag.
- You can also use a mortar and pestle for a more rustic-style pesto (pictured).


Getting to know where your food comes and the people who grow it, is empowering. Suddenly, you feel connected to your community, your environment, your food! You can appreciate what you eat on a totally different level, as you have a relationship with what is on your plate. Next time you’re at the farmer’s market, talk to the vendors, ask where they grow the food, how they grow it, why they grow it. And if you have the conviction to do so, ask if you can stop by some time. Many farms welcome visitors, even schools, clubs and interest groups.

You may be surprised at how fulfilling it can be to visit to a small-scale, family-run farm, as opposed to a big box grocery store filled with anonymous goods from far off places. Instead of fluorescent lights, you get long that, lazy afternoon sun that pours like butterscotch over each and every vegetable, lighting up heirloom tomatoes like glowing lanterns. Instead of miles of aisles of brightly coloured plastic packages, you find rows and rows of brightly coloured berries, squash, melons and herbs. And instead of the cashier who is too busy scanning bar codes to even look you in the eye, you leave with warm embraces and new friends. It is truly the best way to buy groceries – ever.

To learn more about what Chris and Mary are creating, please visit the link to Ironwood Gardens:
http://www.ironwoodgardens.ca/

Quinoa Salad with Lime + Fresh Mint

Cool and refreshing quinoa salad with lime and mint.

This is the post where I confess, Dear Reader, that I am now pear-shaped and lumpy and thick in the middle- obviously adept at gaining weight. I may even be considered gifted. This is not fun for me. But then, who promised fun during hip surgery recovery? Who said it would be easy? (Um, no one.) Throw menopausal hormone pandemonium into the sticky mix and you have a double roll nightmare.

I gained twenty damn pounds.

And who claimed that wedges of Green Chile Cornbread and Strawberry Chocolate Chip Scones and Peach Crisp were calorie-free, anyway? Certainly not moi. But geesh. How much can a girl give up in one lifetime?

Okay. So the rumors are true.

Your intrepid plucky gluten-free goddess is trying the South Beach Diet. Or as well as one can follow the famous low glycemic diet without the comfort of eggs and dairy foods (on my allergen verboten list). This should be interesting.

Lucky for me I have a Guru.

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Gluten-Free Maple Apple Breakfast Sausage- and things I lost in the fall

Truth is often messy. It's complicated. Hard to blog about. Because truth- the whole of it- doesn't always dovetail into a post about rhubarb or biscuit dough. It isn't shiny and pastel sprinkled or predigested for your consumption. What I'm feeling lately is raw and no doubt undercooked, and I'm not even sure I understand it. So, what, exactly, is it?

Things I lost in the fall.

Besides the ability to straddle, to jog up the patio steps, to dance to the Talking Heads while stirring onions, to heft groceries from the back seat, lug heavy Mexican chairs over into the sun, to reach the top edge of a five-foot canvas and lay down a swath of color, walk back, step forward, add more paint, back up, mix color (do this for hours). Or even just sit on the floor. Cross my legs. Curl up in a chair with a book.

To stand for more than ten minutes without assistance (read: cane).

But it's more than these things, even. More than the physical struggle back to a modified semblance of wholeness. It's the acidic sensation of sliding backwards in time, losing ground you worked so hard to get to, to claim as your own. The foothold that didn't come easy to a questioning hyper-vigilant child. A cultivated center of pure confidence. The belief in I am here. Entitlement.

The right to take up floorspace and wall space, to carve out time, spend money on materials. Make mistakes, explore, discover. Play. To start over somewhere new and unfamiliar. The right to disappoint someone else. To confuse them. To place someone else's needs next to your own- instead of in front of your own.

More was broken than a hip.

And ten months later, I am still mending. Not just knitting marrow and stretching fifty-year old muscles that knot and resist. There are invisibles I have lost.

And I am no longer bold enough, or naive enough, to simply assume I'll get them back.
 

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Vegan Peach Ice Scream

Refreshing peachy ice cream- and it's dairy-free.

Cool non-dairy peachy goodness. A vegan ice cream recipe for the dog days of summer. Wait. Is it August already? Good goddess, the summer is careening by. It's true what they say about the concept of time. It changes as you get, um, older. During your ritual morning walk your husband turns to you and mentions a moment from yesterday and the dirt road beneath you starts to swim (not that swimming surfaces are all that unusual out here in the shimmering desert heat).

You ask, Was that yesterday? 

And he thinks a minute. Wait, he says. Friday? 

You hear the brittle dryness of the desert wind. The roar of the loud cobalt sky. There are stones beneath your feet. The same stones as yesterday, last week, last year.

That was last week, you offer, shaking your head in a spin cycle of empathy and disbelief and astonishment. 

Dude, he says. 

Tell me about it, you sigh.

How about some peach ice cream for breakfast?

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