Pie Love

Two weeks ago, I became very excited about and consequently purchased a pie book. I've made pies a few times previously, and although they have always been very good, I've never gotten to be quite so enamored with pies (as enamored as others are? as enamored as I could be?). For one, I've been making simpler, less fatty pie crusts (not knowing how the fattier, flakier crusts are quite the pay-off for the effort). And then, as I said, I'd never made that many pies. The book was almost a personal challenge to make more pies, and in the ten (or so) days that I've had it, I've made two pies. The first was a maple-blueberry pie, made with blueberries that my friend Alicia and I picked in the heat of summer last year. Because I used frozen berries, the pie was a little runny, but the flavor made up for the small failure.

On Sunday, I made the maple-pecan pie you see pictured above. I'm certain that I've only had pecan pie one other time in my life, and wasn't thrilled about it then. But now! Now, I am in love with pie. Alicia helped me make this pie, and upon tasting it told me that it is not as sweet as pecan pies usually are. It's sweet in the complex combination of good sugar, molasses, and maple syrup. The pecans are good quality. The crust is also exceptional, if I may say so.

I'm sure that in the next week I'll make another pie--there's no stopping me. I've made enough cookies and cupcakes and cakes to be a little bored with them. But pie, pie is new.  In the summer, I will be diligent about saving fruit for pies--it'll be a new addition to the routine. For now, I'll use what's at hand and extend the pie challenge to you; will you consider making a pie this year (or this month, or this week)?

Peachy Coffee Cake

The early peaches started coming in here in Tennessee at the end of June, and although there was a lull in varieties ripening last week, by mid-July (in just a few days) peaches should be in full-swing. Before I started canning, I only purchased a few peaches a year--beyond eating them fresh and baking with them, I didn't quite know what to do with them. I especially didn't know about the versatility of peaches--I never thought that they could be made into a salsa, or a barbeque sauce, or peach butter. I made all three (slightly different versions) last year, and kept being surprised by the ways in which peaches could be transformed by the different flavors and textures. So far (already this year), I've made a batch of barbeque sauce and taught a canning class on the peach salsa; both came out exceptionally well, and I've gotten a few incredibly enthusiastic reviews of the barbeque sauce (what can I say, I took it to a party where there was a hot grill and some corn, asparagus, and zucchini--of course they got slathered in the sauce and grilled!). But what I'm trying to say is--if it's just minutes away from being peach season again, the peaches that were canned last year need to be consumed as soon as possible.

Last year, I also canned peaches in light syrup, and we'd been enjoying them in our cereal and in fancy rum drinks; when I checked in the pantry, there was a lone jar of these very peaches still left, right next to a jar of peach butter. I took out the jars and carried them around with me for a little while before I remembered a fall-inspired coffee cake from Celine Steen's The Complete Guide to Vegan Food Substitutions. The original recipe uses ginger syrup, roasted apples, and apple sauce to add moisture and sweetness to the cake--and I have to say, the original recipe makes one of the most wonderful coffee cakes I've ever had. However, the peaches also work wonderfully well, and provided me with a good opportunity to use up those last few jars before I put up this year's harvest. 

Ingredients:

For the cake:                                                                            For the Streusel:
1 cup peach syrup (from canned peaches)                       1/2 cup pecan halves, coarsely chopped
1/2 cup peach butter                                                               1/4 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup vegetable or canola oil                                            1 teaspoon cinnamon
3/4 cup whole wheat flour                                                    2 teaspoons vegetable oil
1 cup all purpose flour                                                                                
2 teaspoons baking powder
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon ground cardamom
1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt
1 cup canned peach halves, diced

Process:
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees and grease a 9" round cake pan or an 8" square pan.

In a medium bowl, combine peach syrup, peach butter, and oil. In a large bowl, sift together flours, baking powder, salt, and spices. In a separate small bowl, combine the streusel ingredients and set aside.

Fold wet cake ingredients into dry, being careful not to overmix. Fold in the diced peaches.

Pour the batter into the greased pan and spread so the batter covers the pan evenly. Sprinkle streusel evenly on top.

Bake for 35-40 minutes, until the cake is golden brown and firm in the center. Transfer to a wire rack and cool before removing from the pan.
----------
The cake isn't overly sweet, and isn't overly peachy--it's everything I want in a coffee cake: slightly crumbly, moist, and flavorful. If you don't have the peachy ingredients available, now you have a good reason to put up peaches so you can make this coffee cake later in the year.

Dessert at a Moment's Notice

Canning has changed the way that I look at food in several ways: for one, I am more used to having food around. And even if what comes out of a jar isn't the centerpiece of a meal--the sauces, condiments, jams, and pickles have become indispensable in the every-day. Multiple times a day, I open jars--either something from the pantry or something in the fridge--to add to a meal. Canning has also made cooking easier, with some of the decisions about ingredients made months prior, at the moment of canning conception.

When I got a craving for dessert on Monday night at 9:15 PM, I knew that I could turn to the pantry to provide for me. I plucked a jar of apple-cranberry relish, and looked at it for a few seconds before declaring that it would be just right in a galette. In fact, The Millennium Cookbook has a recipe for something very similar to this. I used their recipe for a walnut pastry crust, plopped down some apple cranberry relish, and thirty minutes later, we had (an albeit late) dessert. If it's been a while since you've had a galette, I highly recommend it: it's easier than a pie, less messy than a cobbler, and still a great platform for the fruit filling.

Banana (Peach Butter) Bread

I am a person who was brought up to firmly believe in the importance of breakfast. My family would gather at the table promptly and sullenly, and eat breakfast no matter what--and no one ate breakfast alone, either. It wasn't an on-the-go affair--we all sat down and ate breakfast together, always.

Even before I got married to M., I would make muffins, or quick breads, and surprise him with the food for breakfast. At the very least, I'd make sure that we had some cereal. My favorite days are when we can have a leisurely breakfast of toast, scrambled tofu with vegetables, and hash browns from scratch (with a good bit of home-made hot sauce all over everything). But the leisurely breakfast only occurs a few times a month, which leaves many more mornings unaccounted for. And although we don't make as big a deal of it as my parents did, we have a good breakfast every day. Recently, I made some fantastic cocoa hazelnut granola, which we have been enjoying quite thoroughly--especially with some cherry soy yogurt (chocolate and cherries for breakfast? yes!). And as that is now running low, yesterday I made a banana bread that I adapted from several different recipes. I know that banana bread recipes are ubiquitous. I know. But this banana bread has several qualities that make it outstanding, in my opinion: it's both sturdy (sturdy enough to hold up to buttering, or Earth Balanc-ing), and delicate. It can incorporate a wide variety of flavors, too: I've tried making it with everything from apple sauce to jam, to peach butter. (Peach butter was a fantastic experiment from last summer, but it's something we haven't been eating fast enough for some reason. I can also imagine this banana bread with something like blueberry butter, too!) That, and it'd just delicious, and easy. And not too sweet. It's a recipe that I keep coming back to, over and over. I haven't gotten bored with it yet. Here it is:

• 3 very ripe bananas
• 2 tablespoons lemon juice
• 3/4 cup soy milk
• 1/3 cup peach butter (or applesauce, or...whatever)
• 2 tablespoons agave syrup
• 1/2 cup sugar
• 1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract

• 2 cups flour (I use white whole wheat, but a mix of that and all-purpose would work, too)
• 3/4 teaspoon baking soda
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1(+) teaspoon cinnamon
• dried fruits and nuts of your choice, up to 3/4 cup, combined (I used dried cranberries and walnuts in the most recent batch)

-Preheat oven to 350 degrees and grease an 8"x4" bread pan.

-In a medium bowl, mash up bananas with a fork or a potato masher. Add the liquid ingredients and sugar; stir to combine and allow to sit for 3 minutes to sour the soy milk.

-Combine the dry ingredients, except the fruit/nuts, in a large mixing bowl, and stir to distribute the spices and baking soda/powder.

-Stir the wet ingredients into the dry until everything is well-combined, and fold in the fruit/nuts.

-Pour batter into the prepared pan and bake for 50-60 minutes.

And that is all.

Blackberries

I realize that blackberries have been gone for a while, but as I was submitting pictures of a cake made with foraged blackberries to Urban Land Scouts, I fell into some great reminiscing. The cake that I made was a conglomeration of ideas: the actual cake part was the vanilla cake recipe from Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World, the icing was the lime "buttercream" from the same book, and the filling (as well as the coulis) was improvised by me, with Matt's help. Blackberries and lime seemed like a good combination, and I scraped a vanilla bean into the cake better for a more intense flavor. If you have never macerated berries, I highly recommend it. You can just let them sit in sugar for an hour or so, until they release their juices; or you can make the berries very happy by soaking them in booze (and also sugar). I soaked the blackberries in brandy, and used the resulting deliciousness as the filling for the cake. I also cooked down some berries with brandy and sugar for a coulis, which made me feel very fancy. Here are some pictures of the process. I'll go and quietly remember the blackberries and think of more season-appropriate posts. Until later.

Urban Land Scouts--Badges

Just a quick post tonight; I received my first Urban Land Scout badges today, and just had to share. They are the badges for the first two levels, and for the seventh level. I looked back over the list and think that I may have a few more coming my way in a few weeks. Here they are:

I have also had the fortune of the gift of vegetables from one of my co-workers: a whole bucket of green beans, several zucchinis and yellow squash, cucumbers, and hot peppers. One of the zucchinis was as big as my arm! So tonight we made double batches of both sweet and savory zucchini bread. I'm taking some to my co-worker (after all, he brought us the produce), and will be posting another short post soon about our canning adventures.

Full-Circle, or--A Year Later

A little over a year ago, Matt and I started this blog as we were moving into this house. Now we are quite settled in, married for almost a year, and I find myself recognizing the season more meaningfully as I search the area for edible native plants and cultivate our own little garden. I return to what I wrote about a year ago, believing more than ever that

"Eating is an action with consequences beyond a single individual, and it should be a conscious decision with awareness of implications, with every meal."

My present concern (as was last year) is with bread. Recently, we bought a little garlic loaf at the grocery store, and although it had better than average ingredients, I couldn't help but think about production and value of bread--where it comes from and who puts the effort into it?

I have been reading about making bread and going through the introduction of Peter Reinhart's The Bread Baker's Apprentice. Reinhart writes with such clarity and passion, it is difficult not to catch his enthusiasm for the craft. Many of his recipes, however, take several days to make, and I promised myself that I wouldn't start baking from his book until I finished the introduction. Thus, I revisited Dough, and made fougasse to go along with our dinner. I used half a batch of the "white dough" and hope to make breadsticks with the rest tomorrow. As I learn about fermentation and other parts of the bread-making process, I appreciate bread more; I am starting to visualize the process by which good bread comes to be--the release of the sugars, the resulting caramelization of the crust. I love bread!

Of course, as I'm expanding my knowledge of bread, I'm preparing for ten days of raw food. Soon, Matt will be away in Louisville for a week, and I thought that I would repeat last year's raw week. I've started making kale chips and flax crackers, and am experimenting with raw bars (dates, raw cacao, walnuts, and pumpkin seeds). This year will be more challenging, working full time, so I'm focusing more on things that can be more portable. I foresee myself making a few things on my days off (dressings, nut pates, etc.) and eating them for a few days. I'm glad that I'm over last year's unease over my love for bread--I realize that I can eat raw when I want (and when the produce is exceptional and in season), and I can cultivate my bread-making skills. The two aren't necessarily in conflict with each other, and there is a time and a place for both.

Cinnamon Buns and Working in a Non-Vegan Environment

Today, in my day off work, I am making cinnamon buns. I've been thinking about these buns for quite some time, but had not previously worked up the nerve to make them--after all, it's quite a bit of work for something that is not savory (and there's all the sugar! and EarthBalance!). However, having worked for a good few weeks at the little bakery and sandwich shop, I became a little envious of the customers who were coming in and eating enormous cinnamon buns with their morning coffee. Sweet Celebrations makes cinnamon buns that are approximately six to seven inches in diameter. These buns are enormous, but also, apparently, delicious. I started thinking about cinnamon buns, and realized that I hadn't had one in over thirteen years. I remember eating one at Cinnabon, before I became too self-conscious about my eating habits and cut out most fats and sugars out of my diet. When I became vegan, I embraced the fats and sugars (and vegetables!), but not in the form of a cinnamon bun. There was still the issue of the time and effort involved in making them; I knew that I could't exactly go out and buy one because where, pray tell me, am I supposed to get vegan cinnamon buns in Knoxville?!

The envy of the customers at my work, and pride in my baking skills finally took over, and so the dough is rising for the cinnamon buns. If they turn out exceptionally well, I just might take some in to work and show them off to my boss and co-workers.

This brings me to the topic of working in an environment that is not altogether hostile to vegans, but is definitely not vegan-friendly. Every sweet that we make at Sweet Celebrations has dairy butter and milk; with the exception of two items on the sandwich menu, every lunch item has meat--and some have several different kinds of it. We also have a large cooler of ice cream and gelato. The little shop is famous for its quiche and reuben sandwiches. Working there full-time means that I either have to bring my lunch or combine the few ingredients that are vegan to create meals: sometimes, I have a veggie wrap, and sometimes the portobello sandwich. Although I'm not bothered by the lack of options, I find myself sometimes covetous of the things that one of my co-workers brings from his other job in a gourmet kitchen; these are hand-made and long-cured salamis, hand-made chocolates, and other things. I don't necessarily regret not trying those things, but I want the interaction that surrounds them--I want the communal experience of sampling a delicacy and discussing it. I suppose that until this point, I have been quite sheltered from the omnivorish world, and able to make it a disgusting or risible realm--nothing of which I'd want to partake. As Matt and I would say, "Who eats better than we do?" And now, now that I am constantly around people who eat tasty food, sometimes it becomes a task to remind myself that their food comes with a heavy price. Is this a fault or flaw on my part, to momentarily waver? I don't think so.

There are things to be grateful for, too. The main chef at Sweet Celebrations used to be vegan and is sensitive to my desires. Whenever he's not too busy, he whips up lunch for me--things that are not available on the normal menu. I brought in Vegenaise and a few blocks of tofu at his request, and he told met hat he'll try to broaden the range of food that I am able to eat while at work. Yes, yes, yes.

The dough for the cinnamon buns has risen, so off to roll and cover it in Earth Balance and sugar and cinnamon.

Lemon Poppy Seed Cake

I haven't had lemon poppy seed cake in over two years. Incidentally, it was the very thing I was making the night that I first went over to Matt's place--I was making a butter and eggs version of it when I found out that he was vegan; it was then that I found out that veganism was indeed possible. Since then, I've been thinking about lemon poppy seed cake, but have just never gotten around to making it. Part of the reason why I haven't made it is that I just haven't found the perfect recipe: there's either egg replacer or cornstarch, or some other ingredient that makes it...I don't know--less than perfect. I also don't have any lemon extract around, either, and I wanted a recipe that would have good lemon flavor without it. Finally, after the Thanksgiving festivities, on the night before heading up to see my parents, I made a lemon poppy seed cake, and it's perfect. I am now sharing the recipe with you, and I hope that you like it.


Dry ingredients:

• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
  

Wet ingredients:

• 1 flax egg
• 1 cup soy yogurt (vanilla, plain, or lemon-flavored)
  
• 1 cup sugar
• 1/3 cup canola/vegetable oil
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• zest of two lemons
• juice of one lemon
• 2 tablespoons poppy seeds

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Mix the dry ingredients in a large bowl; mix wet ingredients in a separate bowl. Stir wet ingredients into dry. Pour batter into bundt cake pan or a 9" cake pan. Bake for 30-35 minutes, or until cake tester comes out clean. Wait for a few minutes for the cake to cool before turning it out onto serving plate. Dust with powdered sugar. Enjoy!