Parsnip Rice BUT Why "Raw Versions" of Cooked Favorites will Never Catch On

The view from here... The beach is frozen, with ocean water freezing on top of snow. The sun is bright, blue-sky gorgeous, about ten degrees. It's been like this for a week since the big blizzard. Cold, but so beautiful.

I have a raw "parsnip rice" recipe to share today, but also some reflections on why raw versions of familiar cooked dishes will never catch on. Phil is teaching me a lot!

Why "Raw Versions" will Never Catch On

I'm weird, and I've never had "cravings" for traditional "comfort" cooked foods in the traditional sense. I remember my poor friend Stacy, one time when I was suggesting that she could create a raw substitute for a craving, trying to get it through my head that "raw pizza isn't pizza!"

Well, if a dedicated raw foodist felt that way, what about a person who has no interest in focusing on raw foods at all and thinks the whole idea is a crock, but is open to tasting the concoctions his odd partner creates?

Phil's reaction to the "parsnip pilau" recipe (shared below): "It's nice, but the texture's not my favorite. It's all chopped down, sort of like rice, and I prefer vegetable salads to have more texture." 

You see the problem?

It'll still be a vegetable salad, no matter how you dress it up, no matter what fancy name you give it. The fact that it was "like rice" was actually a negative for Phil, because to him, it was still a vegetable salad. The same held when I brought a raw lasagna to a gathering one time. Everyone adored it, and everyone referred to it as "a salad."

For me, this isn't a problem. For me, "a rose by any other name..."--I don't care what you call it so long as it tastes good. But for people who are used to eating "anything and everything," it seems things need to live up to the billing established over a lifetime of knowing, for example, what "carrot cake" is supposed to be like.

Yes, even the wonderful carrot cake didn't meet with Phil's discerning texture sensor. That nut milk pulp: it's fattier than regular flour, but maybe it's also more fibrous. He complained of a fibrousness in the texture, said it felt like "eating chaff!" More for me, I guess. But otherwise, raw desserts are the only exception, in that people do recognize them as desserts, as genuine "pies," etc. Although as you'll recall from my "Grover Pie" post, even the desserts are subject to misnomers...

For people who eat a diet centered around grains and meat and dairy, vegetable and nut-based concoctions are never going to fool them. 

My response is to be more careful with what I call something, and I'm also looking for ideas on how to make raw cakes less "pulpy" (when I can, I'll experiment with a food mixer and see if that helps).

Parnip Pilau
We all love parsnips here, and the last time I roasted some, I nibbled on the raw ends and thought it would be lovely to make a raw "rice." Organic parsnips don't exist here, but when I got some in my Full Circle box, I thought it would be a great opportunity to do it raw.

Of course, I couldn't resist including a carrot in there too!

Parsnip-Carrot "Pilau" (raw, vegan, light)

"The Rice"

2 medium parsnips

1 large carrot

Chop the veggies into large pieces, and process them in a food processor with the "S" blade until fine.

Put in a bowl and set aside.

"Curry Sauce"

1/2 cup nut milk

2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar

1 tablespoon flax seed meal

1 inch fresh ginger, grated

1 tablespoon curry powder

1 teaspoon miso

1 teaspoon turmeric

1/2 teaspoon cardamom

1 teaspoon melted coconut oil

1 tablespoon lecithin granules (or teaspoon liquid lecithin)

1 teaspoon maca (optional)

1 teaspoon cayenne (optional)

Blend everything together--the nice thing about this sauce recipe is that you can do it fine in an underpowered blender. I did it with my little immersion blender.

Pour over the veggies and stir well together. To make even more "pilau" like, consider adding raisins, pistachios, almonds, pine nuts... (I didn't, but it would be good that way too.)

I found this delicious combined with some homemade kim chee...

 And wrapped in a lettuce leaf. On top is just a smear of the eggplant dip I made a while back.

So, it's a "pilau," but I wrapped it up in a lettuce leaf like I do everything!

What do you think? Will "raw versions" ever catch on? What should we do about it if not? 

And any nut pulp/chaff suggestions welcome too!

You Don't Have to Braise the Braising Mix!

First of all, my sincere thanks for all the caring comments on my previous post. That wasn't an easy topic to write about, but I have some hope that talking about those kinds of issues might be helpful to someone out there. One thing I might clarify on the subject of "pills" is that I'm so grateful to work with holistically minded practitioners, and that we're using "elementals" rather than pharmaceuticals. If things deteriorate, pharmaceuticals are an option, or, more accurately, a threat--so let's see how well we can avoid that.

I am grateful to have had my first few opportunities to give homemade goodies to people. I don't consider myself good at presentation, but I've tried a few different ways. This one is four layers of different goodies, with a chocolate-coated pomegranate heart on top. Each layer is separated from the other with a little note about the ingredients/what it is.

 ...And there's quite the array of possibilities to go in the box--these are just a few!

But as the post title suggests, today's recipe is actually about greens. It's good to show dessert first, I guess.

In my box from Full Circle this week, as well as some gorgeous pomegranates, a purple cabbage and some beets, I got a bag of braising mix--beautiful baby kale leaves: dino kale, red and green curly kale; some chard. And I didn't braise any of it, delicious though braised greens and balsamic vinegar can be.

Instead, those leaves (augmented with the spinach in the box) were the basis for two delicious salads: a massaged balsamic salad, and a massaged salad with a creamy dressing.

The principle is very similar to the by now so popular "massaged kale salad:" you shred up the greens, massage them with oil and vinegar/lemon juice and maybe some salt, or massage them with a dressing, let them sit and soak and soak; then add tomatoes, avocado, what you will, and enjoy the delicious meld of tastes.

For the balsamic salad, I also put mushrooms in at the "sit post-massage" stage, so that they would marinade too.

Balsamic not-braised salad
3 cups mixed greens, torn
4 medium cremini mushrooms, thinly sliced
6-8 grape tomatoes, sliced
1/2 an avocado, sliced (or more, or less)
2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
1 tablespoon olive oil

Simply massage the oil and vinegar into the greens, then add in the mushrooms, and let all sit for 2-3 hours. When ready to serve, stir in the sliced tomatoes and avocado.
I happen to think that raw mushrooms, especially marinaded, go particularly well with tomatoes, (and avocado, of course), and that flavor combo was definitely a good feature here.

The creamy salad featured pomegranate kernels.

Creamy not-Braised Salad
3 cups mixed greens, torn
6-8 grape tomatoes, sliced
1/2 an avocado, sliced (or more, or less)
1/2 cup pomegranate kernels
fresh chopped parsley

Lemon-Black Pepper Dressing:
1/4 cup lemon juice
zest of one lemon
2 tablespoons flax meal
2 tablespoons macadamia nut butter
1 tablespoon maple syrup (or a date, or stevia to taste)
1/4 cup water
2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
1 clove garlic
1 teaspoon miso
1 teaspoon black pepper
Blend all the dressing ingredients together and pour over the torn greens; massage in by hand.

When ready to serve, stir in tomatoes, avocado, pomegranate kernels, and sprinkle with roughly chopped parsley.

I'm so grateful for all these zesty, fresh and hearty flavors. And of course, these recipes are "raw" and power-packed, hearty and light all at the same time.

Happy Hanukkah, everyone, and Happy Solstice! Are you looking forward to the light returning?

Massaged Chard and Horseradish Dressing; Overextended

the sea ice on Turnagain Arm looks like a lava flow!

One of the insights to come out of our rushed trip to Anchorage was that I'm overextended. We probably didn't need to be told that! There simply aren't enough hours in a day to do all that I consider essential. And there isn't a thing that I can cut out. At this point, I'm recognizing that preparing my online course is going to take a lot of work for the next month, and then teaching the course for the following five months will also be work. The more I can get done ahead of time, the less of a scramble it will be when the time comes, and the better a job I will do, which means less stress. I'm just trying to find ways to make sure that my levels of stress and busyness don't have a negative impact on Phil (as they sometimes do).

I am so grateful for the afternoons and evenings given up to writing groups here in town. Yes, it's not butt-in-chair, get-work-done prime time, but spending time with these people, giving and receiving feedback, is so validating. It assures that I'm not alone in my obsessions or my needs to honor my creative processes. My own ideas often spark against those of other people. And it reassures me that this is all so meaningful!

On other creative fronts, I'm bursting with ideas for one particular angle on nutrition, which I will share more of soon. When it comes to feeding myself, I'm finding myself wanting to be minimalist, fresh and water-rich. As is today's recipe.

When I wasn't refusing to eat brown guacamole, I had some pretty good food for our whirlwind Anchorage trip this week. Having all the veggies from Full Circle, I was conscious of not wanting to waste anything while being gone for a couple days. 

So I made this gorgeous massaged chard salad with a horseradish dressing...

...and lots of other veggies--and it fed me for the other three meals of our journey! I'm glad to share.

For the salad:
1 bunch red chard, destemmed and torn into pieces (save the stems for juicing or making veggie broth)
1 baby bok choy, torn into small pieces
1 cup purple cabbage
Sprinkle the leaves liberally with kelp powder (or you can just use salt), massage it in well, and set aside while you prepare everything else.

1 cup homemade kim chee
2 chopped tomatoes
4 chopped mushrooms
1/2 cup sprouted lentils
1/2 cup pomegranate seeds
Add these to the salad when you're ready to add the dressing.

This dressing is both simple and light, and was so easy and quick to make with the little hand-held blender. The horseradish and mustard give both pungency and a little sweetness, and the flax meal makes it thick without adding lots of extra oil. There are plenty of substitution options, so it should be easy to make with whatever's in your pantry and fridge!

Horseradish dressing
3 tablespoons lemon juice
1 tablespoon homemade macadamia nut butter (I'll talk about this soon)
1 tablespoon homemade coconut kefir (or just use 2 tbs nut milk)
1 tablespoon golden flax meal
1 tablespoon homemade horseradish (if you don't have horseradish, just use mustard--it'll be different, but still good)
1 teaspoon miso
pinch ground mustard
1/4 cup liquid (could be coconut kefir whey, nut milk, kim chee juice...)

Blend all together--a handheld blender works wonderfully, and probably even a manual whisk would do it.

Add the rest of the veggies to the greens and incorporate the dressing thoroughly. The chard will soften up the more you massage the dressing in--hands are good!
This salad included chard, bok choy and mushrooms from the Full Circle box.
I think the dressing would be wonderful on a 'slaw, and I have a beet from the Full Circle box and a cabbage ready to test it out on--pink beet cabbage slaw I see in the near future!

Poetry Reading at Bunnell Tonight; Figs and Cream

Where I'll be tonight: at the Bunnell St Gallery, to hear my friends and much-admired fellow-poets Erin Coughlin Hollowell and Linda Martin. See Erin's post for full details. Phil is coming too, and so are his nephew and his girlfriend. Any of you Homerites reading this, I urge you to go too.

Both Erin and Linda are graduates of the same MFA program on which I'm about to embark: the Rainier Writing Workshop at Pacific Lutheran University. Together with Mercedes Harness and Debi Poore, they are wonderful teachers and fellow-travelers for me. We are just starting to meet up as a group and critique each other's work, and discuss other books, and I am bottomlessly grateful for it. By undertaking a low-residency MFA, I'm missing out on the intense peer-to-peer interaction of being in school full-time. Getting to interact with these wonderful poets right in the place where I happen to live is more than compensation.

 Between guests, work, the garden, the approaching wedding and preparing for the MFA residency, I feel like I am being stretched on a rapidly moving wheel, each extremity pulled away from the other, like the skin of a drum. I pray to become more like that drum-skin, with a taut and definite center: at this point, my center is ill-defined and discombobulated. The ever-present subtext of trying to figure out how I fit with my surroundings, and how to incorporate my surroundings, specifically food, into my body, also continues to distract and puzzle me.

On the other hand, the sun has been shining for three days straight now and I feel my spirit rising to it. And when I stayed home to write while the rest of the gang went off on one of my favorite hikes, I realized that the sense of gladness that I felt over staying home to write was greater than my chagrin at missing out.

Last week, one of the markets here in town had fresh figs for the first time this year! When I saw them, I almost teared up from all the memories of harvesting my own in the California days. I ate one as soon as I'd paid for my basket, and it was just perfect.

We had a dinner gathering that night, so I made a cream from cashews, young coconut meat, irish moss gel, xylitol and lots of vanilla powder, and bathed the figs in it.

I love their expansive secrecy, their sweet fecundity.

When you miss out on an activity in order to do something more important to you, do you feel sad or glad?

Blogger Identity: It's All GOOD and Four Book Reviews

I know I promised to talk a load of rhubarb, and I will do so soon.

However, I want to take an interlude to reflect an important lesson I learned from my last post, and specifically, from a response to it by Mindy, and to share how that has helped me to tie up some questions with which I've been wrestling for some time regarding blogger identity. I also want to share some books I've been reading recently: four books, four different genres--novel, poetry, essays and raw food recipes.

First: the lesson. Mindy was baffled by my story about the triggering conversation with Phil, because I hadn't contextualized it as being a part of my eating disorder recovery/journey, and it seemed to her like I'd reacted to a compliment in a bizarre way.

To me, this was a wonderful lesson, both as a writer and touching the issue of blog identity. We should always be specific, give a context to the story and make explicit the purpose of telling the story. When we assume that our reader is smart and empathic, it behooves us to give her/him a framework within which to gather all the nuances and implications we're offering. As it was, I told the story from the side of my mouth, so to speak, because I'm still working out how to talk about that topic in a way that is interesting, potentially helpful to others and not triggering.

From here on, I intend to talk about sensitive things clearly and without fudging.

As for blogger identity, that discussion, together with this selection of books I want to review in a moment, cements my recent conclusion that it's all good! I can post several recipes per week and other food-related chat and still write a poetry blog. And vice versa. And body-image/recovery-related stuff, and nutritional research, and Alaskana, and gardening/homesteading: let's have it all on the table! Which means, I don't have to fudge anything and I don't have to think "Oh, I should be elliptical about this because my blog's not really supposed to be about that." This blog can be about anything that seems compelling and fascinating and worth sharing, and it may just so happen that words and food top the ratings most of the time.

OK? Good. Now to the books. The ground we're about to cover should amply illustrate this broader definition of 'blogger identity' I'm easing into.
First: a novel.

Two of the book clubs I'm a member of picked Abraham Verghese's Cutting for Stone for this month or next. Since it's a 600-pager, I know that the few of us who double-dip book clubs were glad that both clubs picked it!

I read it our first couple days in Oregon. I couldn't put it down (except when I really had to)! It's a fascinating epic grounded in Ethiopia but with tendrils in India, the Middle East and the USA (and, more distantly, Scotland), spanning a period of time from the 1940's to the 2000's. It has the slow pace and freight of a 'big novel,' with retellings of single events through the eyes of different characters. The characters are engaging, and the high population of unusual foibles in them somehow seems quite believable: I never felt that I had to suspend disbelief for the sake of the story.

The medical history and details were utterly fascinating to me, and since I'm lucky enough to be pretty familiar with quite a lot of Indian cultural stuff, seeing it framed in the exotic Ethiopian context was even richer. The turbulent history of Ethiopia through that time period provided a backdrop to the events of the book: together with specific medical problems of the area, this enriched, rather than hijacking, the plot.

There were a few infelicities of language dotted around here and there, but I know I'm super-picky about that kind of thing, and given the sheer mass of words, I forgave them (although I wish an editor had caught them!)

One last thing: Phil really enjoyed it too, and we have very different taste in books.

Moving on to Poetry...

Erin already posted a review of Nickole Brown's Sister a couple weeks back, warning that you wouldn't be able to put the book down. I concur: I read it at a sitting a couple days ago, and then started rereading immediately. Nickole was one of the faculty at the recent Writers' Conference here, and gave some wonderful advice, especially about style, revision and editing. I was lucky enough to get to talk with her some about my own work, and hope to continue a connection with her.

Aside from the meticulous visual presentation of each poem (an aspect of poem-revision that she really opened up to me: as I'm always saying, I'm not visual, and it's a revelation how manipulating the white space can do things for you)...aside from this, I was enthralled by the compelling onward drive of the narrative linking the poems together, yet mesmerized by the crystal, crucial lyricism that pervaded each one. I was also inspired by the courage the poems embodied. Peggy Shumaker gives the advice to "write what you think is taboo:" a squeamish injunction, and one Nickole fulfills in a tour du force of bluntness, provocation and mystery.

Essays next:

Our friend Lynn loaned me her copy of Lia Purpura's On Looking. Purpura is on the faculty at PLU and I'm planning to take a class with her at the Residency this August. She's a poet and translator as well as an essayist, so I'm particularly excited to connect with her.

These are meticulously detailed introspections and external observations, lyrical and fractured: gorgeous use of language and many unorthodox sentence structures. So many little things nagging at the corner of your eye: so many surprising disorientations she takes the time to evoke, beautifully, that I thought I was the only person who saw or thought about. It's one of those books that arouses a real feeling of kinship in me: that despite her different location, her different circumstances, many of which are made explicit during the essays, she is speaking for me. As me.

Finally, raw food recipes! I'm coming late to the game on this one...

...it was months ago, if not a year, that I recall many reviews of Ani's Raw Food Essentials on blogs I read, but when I found it on our library's "new books" shelf, I was glad to borrow it and take a look. It's been a while since I've had a big fat recipe book to leaf through.

I haven't tried any recipes yet--it's been barely a day, and I tend to read these books through like novels first. I love her attitude, energy and philosophy. I don't agree with everything that she says about different foods' merits and demerits, but that's probably no surprise. I do admire how the book is organized, with easy adaptations and morphs of one recipe into another, or 'accumulator' recipes, where several recipes are combined. Also, the emphasis on easy-to-source ingredients.

Here's my little complaint, though: why are raw food recipe books so often so poorly edited? It drives me nuts: per my 'blogger identity' conclusions above, readers--and writers--of raw food recipe books are just as smart, well-rounded, educated and deserving of well-edited books as anyone else! So why is this very well-written book by a very smart person made to look less professional because of shoddy editing? The most egregious example (so far): the top of p.31, the first page of a new chapter, contains a paragraph that begins in mid-sentence and has no relation to the facing page (a title/intro page) of any kind. There are other little typos too. In a recipe book, precision is reassuring.

If I had all the time to do all the good in the world that I wish I could do, and had not financial constraints, I would throw myself around a bit trying to put this right.

Do you have any major pet peeves that set you off like this? Any book recommendations, or 'must-try's from Ani's book?
Have a great Holiday Weekend!