Tomato and basil pasta – easy, fast and fresh!

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Tomatopasta

Whatcha going to do with all those beautiful, rosy tomatoes in the garden?? This is one of my longstanding, favourite pasta dishes. Before I went vegan, I ate it with feta or parmesan cheese. Now, I sprinkle it with my vegan version of parmesan. The beauty of this dish is it’s ridiculously easy to make, super fast, and taste like summer time. Using fresh, good quality tomatoes and fresh basil is key.

Tomato basil pasta

2-3 ripe tomatoes chopped (use more or less depending on their size and how much you love tomatoes)

1 small jar or can of artichokes (about a cup). Cut roughly

2/3 cup fresh basil torn or cut

1/3 cup sliced olives (or more – I love olives)

1 Tbsp good olive oil

2-3 cloves garlic minced

9-10 ounces spaghetti or spaghettini

Cook the pasta according to directions. While it’s cooking, chop the tomatoes, artichokes and basil and put in a large bowl. Add the olives, olive oil, minced garlic and toss. When the pasta is done, drain and add to the bowl and toss well. Serve immediately.

My mother would actually eat this dish the next day cold as a salad and add cucumbers to it. You could give that a go too.

Serve with a good grind of fresh pepper and vegan parmesan.

Makes 3 huge or 4 generous servings.

Vegan parmesan

1 teaspoon sea salt

1/3 cup nutritional yeast

1/3 cup raw almonds (no skins)

1/3 cup toasted sesame seeds (I toast mine on a sheet of tin foil in the toaster oven at 400 degrees for 4 minutes)

Grind everything together in a blender or food processor and store in the fridge in a sealed container. It’ll keep for 2-3 weeks.

Linguini with spicy peanut sauce, kale and tempeh

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linguiniTempehKale

If you had told me even a year ago that I’d eat kale and tempeh and like it, I would have laughed at you. But this saucy number changed everything.

The original recipe is from The Thug Kitchen. This is my lazy-ass thug version.

I timed myself today making this dish: it took just 23 minutes from the moment I stepped in the kitchen to the time I sat down with a big bowl of tempting, spicy noodles!

Noodles with peanut sauce, kale and tempeh

10 oz linguine (or other pasta)

8 oz tempeh

1 bunch kale (about 6-8 cups once you’ve torn and washed it)

For the sauce

1/3 cup peanut butter (NOT the stuff with extra chemicals and sugar – just peanuts peanut butter)

1/3 cup vegetable broth

2 tsp chili paste (I used sambal oelek)

2 tsp chili powder

1 green onion sliced

2 cloves garlic minced

2 tsp grated ginger (or if you’re feeling super lazy, use ½ tsp ground ginger)

1/2 tsp ground cumin

1 ½ Tbsp dark sesame oil

Juice of ½ lime

1 ½ Tbsp rice vinegar

2 Tbsp soya sauce or tamari

Cook the linguini according to package instructions. Use a big pot because you’ll be adding the kale and tempeh.

Wash and tear the kale into bite-size pieces. Do not worry about drying the kale. It’s going in the pot.

Cut the tempeh into dice-sized cubes.

When the noodles are done, turn off the heat. Add the kale and tempeh. Doing this blanches the kale quickly and perfectly preps the tempeh, which can have a sour aftertaste if it’s not cooked/steamed.

As soon as you have everything in the pot, drain the water. Put it in a big bowl, awaiting sauce.

For the sauce – in a sauce pan, mix all the sauce ingredients over medium heat until they are blended. Pour over the noodles/kale/tempeh and toss together.

Enjoy!! Makes 4 delicious servings.

Black rice with coconut, fruit and pistachios – ooooh, mama this is good!

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blackrice

I spotted a bag of black rice at the Asian supermarket near me, not having a clue what it was or what to do with it…. Here’s what I’ve learned.

Black rice is glutinous or sticky so it’s great for pudding-y type dishes. It’s loaded with antioxidants and has the essential amino acid lysine and tryptophan and vitamin B1, vitamin B2, folate acid and is a good source of minerals including iron, zinc, calcium and phosphorus.(from Wikipedia).

It’s also called purple rice or forbidden rice, and frankly, if I were the despotic ruler of ancient China, I would forbid anyone from eating this rice but me. But I’m not. So here’s my recipe for black rice with coconut milk, fruit and pistachios. Prepare to lose your mind over the deliciousness!

1 cup black rice
2 cups water
4 cardamom pods (or about 1/2 teaspoon ground cardamom)
1 cinnamon stick (or about 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon)
Some sweetener – I used 1 Tbsp agave nectar, but you could use sugar and as much or little as you like.
A can coconut milk (optional)
1 mango peeled and diced
2 kiwis peeled and sliced
– Use any fruit you like, but I find the tropical fruits work nicely with the coconut… so would strawberry or raspberry though.
½ cup shelled pistachios

Rinse the rice then put it in a pot with the water. Add the spices and sweetener, stir and bring to a boil. Once boiling, reduce and simmer. Black rice takes a while – about 40 minutes. Patience – it’s worth it! Don’t keep lifting the lid on your rice pot… let it do its thing. The rice is done when the water is all absorbed… the rice will not be fluffy. It’ll be sticky when done. If you used cardamom pods and a cinnamon stick, fish them out and dispose.

When the rice has cooled, add a can of coconut milk. This is optional. The rice is good enough just as is, but the coconut milk adds delicious decadence that life requires, in my opinion.
Top with the diced mango and kiwi (I also added a few slices of cherry) and pistachio. Enjoy!!
The rice makes 4 servings.

Asian quinoa salad

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AsianQuinoa2

Here’s what I’m having for lunch today. My version is very closely based on the recipe from Two Peas and Their Pod. This salad is super delicious, satisfying and sustaining.

Funny, up until this year I hated quinoa. It was bitter. Then my lovely neighbor, Marion, who is also a retired a Home Ec teacher, told me to rinse it. Et voila! I love quinoa… though I do still think it looks like tiny rolled up condoms.

This salad would be great topped with a few crunchy chow mein noodles or some chopped cashews.
I’ve added comments in the recipe indicating what changes I made. Let me know if you make this dish and how you riff on it.

Asian quinoa salad
1 cup quinoa
2 cups water
1 cup chopped red cabbage (I used green because that’s what I had, though red cabbage would look prettier)
1 cup shelled and cooked edamame (get a bag in your freezer section, already shelled. Let thaw in your salad bowl)
1 red bell pepper, chopped
1/2 cup shredded carrots (about 1 medium carrot)
1 cup diced cucumber
For the dressing:
1/4 cup lite soy sauce or tamari sauce
1 tablespoon sesame oil
1 tablespoon rice wine vinegar
2 tablespoons chopped green onion (one very luscious green stalk plus the white part)
1/4 cup chopped cilantro (totally optional, I added, but found it did nothing for or against the dressing)
1 tablespoon sesame seeds (I toasted mine)
1/4 teaspoon grated ginger
1/8 teaspoon red pepper flakes (I used about ½ teaspoon chili paste)
Salt and black pepper, to taste (I didn’t bother, soy sauce is salty enough)
Directions:
1. Rinse your quinoa to remove the bitter coating. Add water and quinoa to a medium saucepan and bring to a boil over medium heat. Turn the heat to low and simmer for about 15 -20 minutes, or until water is absorbed. Remove from heat and fluff with a fork.
2. Place the quinoa in a large bowl and add the cabbage, edamame, red pepper, carrots, and cucumber. Set aside.
3. In a small bowl, whisk together the soy sauce, sesame oil, rice wine vinegar, green onions, cilantro, sesame seeds, ginger, red pepper flakes, salt, and pepper.
4. Pour the dressing over the quinoa salad and stir to combine.

Note-Make sure you use tamari for a gluten-free salad, not all soy sauce is gluten-free. This salad is good served at room temperature or chilled.

Permission from a pig

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EstherAnyone who knows me knows that I have fallen in love with Esther the Wonder Pig. This social media superstar is a real pig – who, just three years ago, as a tiny piglet, somehow escaped the horrific factory farm system and made her way to Steve and Derek, two men with hearts as wide open and big as the sky.

 
Steve and Derek quickly realized a couple things:
1) Esther was no family-pet-style mini-pig. She was a commercial pig, bred to grow quickly and become food.
2) Esther was not food. She was family, part of the brood of pets in Steven and Derek’s Toronto home.

 
Because she was not food, Steven and Derek questioned what else they had considered to be food.
They knew the dark side of the world’s industrialized factory farming, but had never really delved into it. Now they did. Within weeks of Esther joining their clan, Steve and Derek became vegan. Esther and all animal-based foods were literally no longer on the table.

 
And then Steven and Derek, affectionately called the Dads, did all manner of brave and outrageous things.

 
Esther became the “spokes pig” for their message of veganism and kindness to all creatures on earth. The Dads began to share photos of their giant house pig (Esther is now 700 pounds) along with witty, heartwarming and engaging comments on social media. Esther now has an ardent global following of almost half a million people and has inspired many people – me included – to adopt a vegan diet.

 
Keeping Esther in her Toronto home was a municipal violation. So the Dads decided to open an animal sanctuary called Happily Ever Esther. They crowdfunded the purchase of a farm and raised far more than the $400,000 they were asking for – all from strangers.

 
Esther and her dads have been in the news and on the news all over the world. Celebrities have come to visit her. People flock to see her, make donations and passionately share her story.

 
I’ve wondered often what has made Esther the Wonder Pig such an incredibly popular phenomena. After all, there are loads of cute animals on social media. There’s a ton of funny stuff too, and vegan recipes and calls to action against animal cruelty abound on the internet. So what is the magic of Esther and her Dads?

 
I believe it’s the permission they give us. The permission we rarely are given (or take!) to be ourselves.
To love openly.
To be vulnerable.
To ask for help.
To be kind and generous.
To care desperately.
To be authentic.
To be different.
To be brave.
To dream.
To challenge the status quo.
To embrace and welcome others.

 
It’s a marvelous gift. And when you receive it and open it up, you automatically pass it on to others.

 
So wave your freak flags, love and shine on!

Blueberry banana pancakes

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blueberrypancake

These pancakes are completely vegan and surprised me with their fluffy texture and utter deliciousness. Since I live in the heart of the world’s pretty tiny maple-syrup-production area, these babies are happily swimming in maple syrup. But they’d be great with jam, a dusting of sugar or just on their own.

You will need:
1 ripe banana mashed
1 cup flour
1 1/4 cup almond or other plant-based milk
1 Tbsp sweetener – I used maple syrup, but sugar or brown sugar or agave are all fine. If you use honey, well, then they’re not vegan anymore
2 tsp baking powder
2 Tbsp walnut pieces (optional)
½ – 2/3 cup blueberries
A pinch salt
½ teaspoon cinnamon
In a small bowl, mash the banana with ¼ cup milk and the sweetener.
In a larger bowl, sift the dry ingredients together. Stir well. Add the walnuts.

Add the banana mixture and remaining 1 cup milk to the dry ingredients. Mix until just blended. Then stir in the blueberries.

Make as per usual. The pancakes won’t bubble up as much as normal pancakes, but you will see the edges setting and a few bubbles forming. This recipe made 10 three-inch pancakes.

Miracles for all

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StormSept52014This is the full definition of miracle according to Merriam-Webster’s online dictionary.

  1. : an extraordinary event manifesting divine intervention in human affairs
  2. : an extremely outstanding or unusual event, thing, or accomplishment
  3. Christian Science: a divinely natural phenomenon experienced humanly as the fulfillment of spiritual law

This definition explains a traditional view of miracles as something supernatural and divinely generated, belonging only to the theists in the crowd. But what about people who don’t believe in a deity? Don’t they get to experience miracles too? I say they do.

Here is my full definition of a miracle.

  1. And explosion of awe (often accompanied by a feeling of joy) upon experiencing something beautiful, wonderful or inexplicable
  2. The awareness of the complexity of life and everything in it
  3. Deep gratitude for the privilege of being alive in this time and place knowing that you could have just as easily not been.
  4. Extending this sense of awe, joy, awareness and gratitude to everything and everyone you encounter

Miracles belong to everyone. You only need to be willing to recognize them.

Creating positive change (a/k/a how I quit smoking)

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SmokingTen years ago I stopped smoking. It was one of the hardest of things I’ve ever done. For three days I suffered every physical symptom and craving possible – anxiety, sweating, insomnia, dry mouth, headache, even constipation. Everyone around me suffered too! Mentally though, I was tough. In my mind, I had already moved on from being a smoker.

I wasn’t “giving up” smoking or even quitting. That thinking underlines an attitude of lack and deprivation. I was getting rid of a bad habit. I was shedding the shackles. I was moving on to something better for me – a healthier, cleaner, free-er way of living.  Because I wasn’t giving up anything, I certainly didn’t need nicotine replacement gums or patches or vapor cigarettes to fill the void left by cigarettes. There was no void.

With every craving that came and went – and they always went – I breathed, ate ice and said “I’m getting rid of a bad habit” then smiled and celebrated inwardly. I have never smoked since and can’t imagine ever smoking again.

Very often we only change when it’s more painful to not change. Even then, the old way is familiar and comfortable. It will whine, entice and manipulate you to try and keep you where you are.

And that’s when it helps to know, not what you’re running from, but what you’re running to.

Turn your back on what you’re leaving behind. Cut the cord on what was. Don’t be nostalgic and glamourize the past. Understand why you’re changing and what you want for your future and then look forward. See the new way of being and you in it, doing it, living it, reaping the rewards. And then just keep moving forward.

That last time

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When I was a little girl, my father moved to Germany. Before the Internet and cheap long distance calling, letter writingairmail was our chief way of keeping in touch. How I loved and dreaded seeing those familiar, thin, blue, air-mail envelopes with his spidery handwriting in our mailbox. Dreaded because he wrote increasingly morose or chiding messages as his own unhappiness and alcoholism consumed him. Loved because he was my father and I wanted to love him.

My father died in Germany more than 11 years ago. We never had a service for him and I don’t even know where his grave is.

For months after his death, I would go to my mailbox still hoping for a card or letter from him. As seasons and milestones passed with no message, the finality of his death sank in.

Last night I dreamed that I received a stack of letters from my father. The letters had somehow gone astray and were finally reaching me these many years after his death. My dream self shuffled the letters, hesitant to read what was in them. Then I said aloud:

Sometimes it’s best if you don’t know it’s the last time. It’s best if you don’t know it’s the last time you’ll see someone. Or the last time you’ll go to a favourite place. Or the last time you’ll do something you love. If you knew it was the last time, it would break your heart and you couldn’t enjoy that last time. If I read these letters, I know it will be the last time I ever read a letter from him.

I cannot remember the last letter I received from my father. I am glad I didn’t know then that it would be the last. It would have broken my heart.

One hand washes the other

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Twice in my life I’ve spent some time with one-armed men (and a one-legged man but he was dead and telling no tales). Both times the question that burned for me was “How does he wash his hands?” I even screwed up the nerve to ask one of the men. He looked at me stonily and answered “I manage.” That answer neither cleared up the mystery nor give me any confidence in his hand hygiene.

Meeting these men conjured the memory of my mother announcing “one hand washes the other” with cheery satisfaction as we completed a task together that was exponentially easier to do as a team than solo – think folding fitted bed sheets.

handwashingThat expression coupled with my mother’s contentment as she said it invariably induced a lucid visual of soapy hands sliding over each other, cleaning and being cleaned, engaged in a mutually rewarding exercise. Then I’d wonder, “Well, is there any other way to wash one’s hands?”

Apparently there is, but I don’t know the answer and the one-armed men are not telling.