BitterSweet

Unassuming from afar, tempting upon closer inspection, and hauntingly delicious at first bite. All the signs would seem to say that these are your typically tasty peanut butter cookies; Full of nutty flavor, soft and chewy, yet still satisfyingly crisp. Certainly every aspect of this classification is accurate, although there is something slightly different about these that most people wouldn’t even venture to guess.

Before I give away the secret ingredient, allow me to preface expressing my disdain for the general reaction when you label something as “healthier.” The first thought that passes through the American mind is that something essential to the overall flavor has been removed, so it must therefore be not nearly as good tasting. Despite the fact that vegan baking and cooking still makes use of plenty of sugar, oil, and other items with less-than-stellar reputations, the uneducated public still see veganism as consisting only of sterile, bland health food, which is no where near the truth. Connecting these dots, I almost never divulge the fact that my baked goods are all vegan before handing them out to anyone. There’s nothing that makes vegan food any more or less inherently tasty than the alternative anyway - It all comes down to the same basic ingredients to contribute flavor, and it’s just a matter of how you choose utilize them. That’s why I will never accept the response that something is “good for vegan food;” Perfectionist that I am, I will continue working at a recipe until it is delicious in its own right.

That said, due to a growing demand for delicious food suitable for those with usually limited dietary constraints, the pressure to make more healthful treats was on, big time. Without suffering from any medical limitations other than lactose intolerance as a child, (Obviously, no longer an issue) I frantically read through stacks of articles and recipes, trying to gather more information about celiac’s disease. Although this is only my first attempt at fulfilling such a daunting task, I plan to delve further into this field should it be requested in the future.

So yes, these cookies are indeed not only vegan as per usual, but also gluten-free. In addition, if one were baking for a diabetic, I could imagine the sugar can even be replaced with Splenda or stevia, although I’m not sure the exact conversion from stevia to regular white sugar, as the former is much sweeter than the later.

Health food? I guess you could say that. Delicious? You could say that one again. In such a biased and prejudiced world out there, millions would write this one off because of its secret ingredients, which is why I’m not going to focus on that. See for yourself, but I don’t think they should be looked upon any differently than white flour or salt; Ingredients are just that, better or for worse, and even the most unexpected ingredients can be used the right way to create something amazing.

Gluten-Free Peanut Butter Cookies

Ingredients:

-1/2 Cup Red Lentils, Dry
-1/4 Cup Instant Mashed Potato Flakes
-1/2 Cup Soymilk
-1 Cup Crunchy Peanut Butter
-3/4 Cup Sugar
-1/4 Cup Cornstarch
-2 Teaspoons Cream of Tartar
-1 Teaspoon Baking Soda
-1 Teaspoon Vanilla
-1/4 Teaspoon Salt

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees.

Begin by grinding up your dry lentils in a food processor for a good 5 - 10 minutes, or until it is a fine powder. This step is crucial, as any remaining pieces of whole lentils will contribute a slightly off texture to the finished cookie. While that’s churning away, combine the soymilk and mashed potato flakes in a microwave-safe bowl and heat for one minute. Let it cool for a minute or two, and toss it into a stand mixer along with your lentil flour.

Mix in the peanut butter and sugar next. Sprinkle in your cornstarch while keeping the mixer at a low speed, bringing it up faster once it’s well combined and no longer threatens to send starch flying out. Make sure that it’s thoroughly mixed at this point, because lumps of cornstarch do not make nice prizes.

Add in the remaining ingredient, combine, and spoon out onto silpat-lined baking sheets.

Leave a good amount of room between cookies in case of spreading, but they shouldn’t go too far. Slide the dough lumps into the oven and cook for 10-12 minutes. Removing them from the hot box, allow them to sit on the hot tray for another 5 minutes before pull the silpat off onto a cooler surface, where they should come down to room temperature.

Depending on the size, you will end up with approximately two dozen cookies to enjoy and share with all.

January is hardly the time to seek out fresh strawberries, as growers reach deeper into their refrigerators to salvage the remnants of a crop long past. On optimistic days I might hope that perhaps the supply has somehow improved, based on the vibrant colors and unblemished skins presenting themselves through their plastic carton, taking a gamble and trying again. Looks are only skin-deep with every new batch, and the taste, if at all present, inevitably leaves one disappointed.

Does this mean that my strawberry craving will have to go unfulfilled until the arrival of spring? Well, for the most part I suppose so, but that doesn’t mean I can’t treat my eyes to the joy of this fragile and finicky fruit. The ruby red jewels for sale at the grocery store may as well be made of yarn for all their flavor! In fact, thinking this over as I held a deceptively succulent-looking container in my hand, that wasn’t such a bad idea in the first place.

Pulling an old favorite recipe out of my file, I whipped up a fresh strawberry shortcake, topping it with ornate designs in pure white frosting and all of the gorgeous berries that my heart desired. Lovely as it was, I would never dream of putting it in my mouth, which could be the moral of the story here. I do love to make food that is pleasing to the eye, but the most artfully prepared dish could just as well taste like… Well, acrylic yarn. At the same time, thousands of other meals are being written off just because they’ve got a bad case of the uglies.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll hunker down with a big bowl of sloppy lentils and wait for the seasons to turn before tempting fate attempting to buy berries again, all the while jealously eyeing my beautiful cake.

There are some dishes known as “comfort food” that satisfy not only the stomach, but also the soul, bringing warm memories from childhood along with delicious food. Unfortunately, “comfort food” has also become synonymous with dense, fattening, and over-all unhealthy food that can only be enjoyed once in a blue moon, always remaining an indulgence, never again to be consumed care-free as in the good old days before nutrition became relevant. Various polls all reel in greatly contrasting results, some declaring mashed potatoes to top the list of America’s overall comfort food, while arguments in the name of ice cream, pies, macaroni and cheese, and casseroles are still being made. I can’t say for sure how the top vegan comfort food might measure up, but when I was still an omnivorous, ignorant little cherub, my favorite was unquestionably cheese ravioli.

Needless to say, it ended up being a craving that dulled over the years, coming to an abrupt cessation upon my introduction to veganism. If you think that fake meats can be sometimes unappetizing, you have yet to try much of the vegan cheese available for consumption. Great strides are being made in the current selection these days, but in my early years of dumping dairy, the best I could do was keep my day-glow-orange “American” sliced soy cheese from burning under the broiler, because no matter what ingenuitive methods were employed, that unnaturally colored slab simply would not melt. And that says nothing about the taste. Without going further into detail, lets just say I would rather chew on crayons than buy that junk again.

Needless to say, ravioli seemed to be permanently off the menu. There were always a few ice-encrusted containers of pre-made ravioli-type incarnations whiling away the months at the back of health food stores’ freezer section, but I was never brave enough to try them after such a horrible experience with soy cheese. Research as I may, I never found any solid reviews of these products, so I finally decided that even if they did turn out to be more vile than the barnacles thriving under the town dock, I could atleast warn others before it was too late. Clearly, it was my duty as a good Samaritan to take the dive on this one.

Enter Soyboy, an upstanding company dedicated to the use of quality ingredients, obtained from responsible sources. Even the packaging itself is meant to take a lesser toll on the environment, proudly claiming on the back that it uses 45% less plastic than typical packaging of it’s sort, while still providing the required structure to prevent your dinner from ending up a smushed mess. Printed everywhere you look are seals guaranteeing that what they have to offer is completely vegan / organic / non-GMO ingredients. All very good things, indeed. From the health standpoint on comfort foods, they had tackled this obstacle head on, and seemed to have emerged the victor. Selecting the more interesting option in my opinion, I added a 10 oz package of their Ravioli Verde, but they also produce a Ravioli Rosa in addition to the Original. Still, second thoughts prevented me from moving beyond the attractive exterior for countless weeks, fearful of what my taste buds may meet.

Returning from school early after a grueling day of midterms, none of my standard fare would fit the bill to sooth the pain of the eminent failing grades. Recognizing the perfect opportunity to try an old comfort food revisited, I rescued the tofu-stuffed pastas from the depths of the freezer at last. Freeing them of their environment-friendly wrapping, I took note of their unusual appearance. While some people may be turned off by its flamboyant green color, I find this as encouraging evidence of what I hoped would be a complex and well rounded earthy flavor.

After completing their dip in a pot of boiling water for the suggested amount of time, the skins had faded to a more subdued green, but were still more colorful than you standard pale pasta. Cutting one pillow in half, I discovered a slightly off-putting orangey-reddish tinted tofu residing within. I suppose I was expecting a pure white filling, more indicative of the main ingredient in its natural state, so the consumption of this dish seemed to grow more ominous by the minute. I’m sure it wouldn’t have been so unsettling had I been expecting it, but I was simply caught of guard

Nonetheless, I popped this piece into my mouth… and was momentarily afraid I had read the package wrong. Really, this was tofu?! It tasted just like I remembered ravioli from my childhood, and all of the herbs made it seem like all the seasonings of a traditional marinara sauce were already included. I had planned to do a dry run to get the basic flavors of this product, adding on sauce after I had ascertained certain details, but it didn’t end up needing it! The chewy, substantial skin surrounding the creamy yet somewhat coarse filling was pure, unadulterated joy on a plate. The ratio of tofu to pasta was spot-on, leaving nothing to be desired. If a tofu ravioli could be more perfect, it may in fact be the food of the gods.

Initially having scoffed at the serving size of a mere 6 pieces, I was quite humbled to realize how filling this dish was. After polishing off my 6 pockets of soft tofu and herbs (and practically polishing the plate,) I felt content, my hunger completely satiated.

Never having anticipated such a positive result from this type of product, I urge you to try it for yourself. Having put my inner-child at peace once more, Soyboy ravioli will always have a place in my freezer, as well as my heart.

Breakfast is usually my favorite meal of the day, whether I have the luxury of a relaxed, carefully crafted entree on the weekend, or even if it’s a hurried slice of toast before facing a full day of school. Just about any breakfast food in existence is generally all-around wonderful, often finding its way into any odd meal or snack. I don’t know about you, but cereal happens to be a normal dinner item in my house these days. With this casual approach to what is considered “appropriate” items for particular eating opportunities, I thought nothing of cooking up a nice big batch of bacon during a dinner date with a new friend.

Setting the uncooked protein down on the counter, I immediately noticed a shift in my friend’s body language. Becoming as stiff as a board and perhaps trying not to move in order to avoid detection, a worried expression clouded his eyes, soon giving way to unbridled fear. The tension emitting from this scared little piglet was so thick, you could cut it with a mere fork!

It didn’t take any spoken words for me to figure out what was going through his panic-stricken mind. So obvious was this horror, I could practically see his racing thoughts…

Bacon! How could she! If I don’t look out, I may end up as her next meal too!

Thankfully, this awkward misunderstanding quickly blew over once I removed the discarded cardboard covering from the trash, explaining my seemingly cruel choice in that evening’s supper. I hate even having real meat purchased by my parents taking up residence in the fridge, so it should never be a concern of any guests that I might touch it, let alone consider serving it. Besides, I’ve found that this fake bacon by Light Life tastes eerily close to the real thing, but made entirely out of soy and other vegan ingredients, you don’t need to be a pig to appreciate it!

Always on the lookout for different products to review, I like to think that I’ve developed a fairly keen eye for new arrivals on the grocery store shelves. Trips to the store some times become games, seeing if I can pick out each change that has occurred to the consumable landscape since last I visited. Lest I lead you to think that I while away my daylight hours prowling the dusty aisles of canned goods, there is rarely enough time to wade through such a vast array of neatly stacked packages. In fact, most food shopping expeditions could be just as easily called grocery runs, as looming appointments and deadlines force me to sprint to the checkout line to create something like a meal that evening. I usually try not to literally run through the store, my cart plowing through the sluggish shoppers and senior citizens in my way, but I won’t say this never happens.

Just such a grocery run was completed not too long ago, having scoured the empty cabinets for a snack to no avail. Barreling through produce and processed junk, I chanced to look up as I stooped down, reaching blindly into the selections of milk alternatives. From the steep angle in which I observed, all I could discern from the scene was that there was something different on the top shelf. Nothing more, nothing less.

Without a second to spare, this thought was promptly lost amid the rush to get home and promptly discarded. Accomplishing the main objective of grabbing last minute supplies, nothing could have been further from my mind than writing up any new food reviews that day.

Upon my return at a less manic time, I slowed my pace and took notice of an unfamiliar label nestled in among my standard selection of soymilks. Suddenly remembering the alien object I had previously spotted as if in some forgotten dream, I knew it had to be one and the same.

With little more identification than the title of “soy milk” emblazoned on the front in a cheerful royal blue, I wasn’t sure what to make of this newcomer. Advertising itself only as heart-healthy, I doubted it had anything more to offer than the other cartons of milky soy-products already on the shelf. Finding the simplicity of the design aesthetically appealing nonetheless, my natural impulse was to take it home and give it a fair trial, regardless of its questionable content.

Extending an open hand to seize this find, I froze abruptly as my eyes focused in on the price marked directly below it. Compared to the generic store brands that I tend to favor, this plain-Jane container may as well have been filled with liquid gold! Without being able to predict its staying power in such a competitive market, I’ll just have to hope that it lasts long enough for me to try it at a later date, perhaps when the costs justify the risk of adventuring away from my tried and true soy.

At long last, winter has taken away the residual summer warmth from the air in time for rain clouds to blanket the sky, and our area finally saw its first snow of the year! Granted, nothing stuck for more than an hour, and the precipitation could be scarcely given a more serious label than “flurries.” Being so late in the season now, I’ll take whatever I can get at this point, so merely watching those fluffy wisps of ice crystals drifting gracefully down to Earth was enough to keep me enthralled throughout the whole day.

Dreaming up countless activities for what I hoped would be a school cancellation due to snow the next day, I went to bed with thoughts of snowmen and warm layers of hats and scarves teasing through the folds of my brain. Every time I voice my desire for a snow day, my audience of the moment always reminds me in a grave tone, “You know you’ll just have to make up that time in the summer, don’t you?” As far as I’m concerned, the oppressive heat and endless, indifferent days of the summer vacation don’t even hold a candle to the free time awarded thanks to the harsh conditions in which buses are liable to slide right off the streets in winter.

Yes, I could see it now: Snow falling in sheets, coating houses and trees in a thick layer of powder. So cold that even the animals would be dressed up in thermal coats, enjoying themselves in a winter wonderland just as I had craved all year long.

Of course, by the time I awoke, not a single flake was in the air, on the ground, or otherwise visible. All evidence of any precipitation from the previous night had vanished while the world slept, and the school buses continued to run on schedule, ambivalent toward their missed opportunity to take the day off along with the rest of us.

I remained hopeful regardless, and even though the typical work day went like clock-work after that particular shower, we awoke with snow on the ground once again this very morning, appearing quietly without anyone the least bit aware.  My mom turned on a light outside when I told her the news, only to announce it was a “light dusting,” but at this point, it looks like it could be 3 feet deep to me.  Having lacked snow for nearly the entire season, I’ll take what I can get.

Ah, lazy Sundays. In spite of a steadily growing to-do list, little ever gets accomplished for some reason on the last day of the weekend. Waking up bleary eyed, hours later than usual, the last thing I wanted to do was tackle the sprawling mess of fabric that was left unfinished on the sewing room floor. No, although I had promised myself I would diversify my crafting posts, looking back into old categories that have begun to accumulate dust from inactivity, the most I could do was drag myself down to the kitchen and start heating up the oven once again.

Still in a sloth-like daze, I hadn’t even prepared myself to write a new post, but I got such lovely pictures of my baked goods, I can’t not show them off. In addition, I feel so bad about not having any new recipes to share ever since purchasing Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World, so I finally have something of my own creation included. Obviously inspired by Isa’s Coconut Heaven frosting, I toyed with it to create a more sturdy “butter cream” and incorporate a contrasting flavor to add interest over all.

But before I got around to that, the best part of waking up is always chocolate, especially in cupcake form.

After the oven was already warm, I figured I might as well try out one of the few cupcake recipes from Vegan with a Vengeance, and Coconut Heaven cupcakes resulted.

Elegant, yet harsh. Beautiful to some, appalling to others. The corset has been around for centuries, fading and returning to the forefront of the current fashions. After all theses years, it has become little more than an element of design, far separated from its initial purpose. There are of course still steeply priced authentic corsets for sale, but if you mention this style to a member of the younger generation, the picture conjured up is more likely to involve a couple pieces of intertwined string that do nothing but hang on some side of a dress.

Some people still see the corset as been oppressive to females, which I can understand… If we were being forced into them by the hands of men. It may have been like that ages ago, but now that so much free choice is ours to do our will with, it’s almost like an affirmative action to tie oneself into these snug assemblies of fine fabrics. Personally, I find the tight grip around the waist anything but restrictive or uncomfortable - Instead, I think of it like a never ending hug, an additional morsel of affection for you to reach for when the daily stress starts to become corrosive. It’s that closeness that you can’t fake or escape that holds much of the lure for me. As with relationships, it may be awkward to wear at first, but soon it becomes a familiar feeling, and as long as you sit with it, it eventually acts as a comforting support through all the hours of the day.

Sadly, it’s difficult to find any “real” corsets on the market these days, and even if you were to get your hands on one, I doubt the price tag would be so agreeable to most anyone. Pondering this dilemma, I suddenly remembered my poor, neglected sewing machine that was slowly accumulating dust in the other room. With all of this yarn work, when had I last threaded a needle of any sort? It’s about time I go back to all the other crafts I find pleasure in, ease and accessibility be damned. In this new year, I’d love to make more of my own clothes, so hopefully I’ll have more to show for that declaration in future posts.

For this particular garment, I did start with a pattern… But we quickly had creative differences. Between fitting issues and aesthetic details, I soon found myself on my own again and simply made it up as I went along. Fairly pleased with the overall results, my only regret was the limited choice of material with which to lace up the front. I resigned myself to a rather shabby length of yarn due to its matching color, after searching long and hard for a more refined ribbon in a similar hue. A sacrifice to the final piece, but thankfully something that can be switched out if a nicer ribbon were to present itself later on.

Flipping to the opposite side, I covered the back panels with perhaps some of the most expensive lace I have ever seen. I only bought a foot of it to spare my aching wallet, but that still cost me more than a full skein of my standard yarn and just barely covered its intended area. Still, isn’t it just lovely? I’m sure you can understand why I couldn’t just walk away from the aisle of trimmings empty handed.

You may also notice the slightly hidden zipper nestled between those pricey pieces of lace. While this would certainly not be a function of an “accurate” corset, I personally hate the struggle of unlacing, re-lacing, tying, etc.. All that fuss to get dressed, especially as it tends to wear on the ribbon in no time at all. Therefore, zippers are a wonderful thing to have.

Not an authentic corset, I will admit, for it also lacks boning for additional structure, but I think it still does it’s job just beautifully. For those unfamiliar with this sort of item, my corset shown here is meant to go over another shirt, because it starts just below the bust, resting at the top of the hips.

History be damned, I think corsets made with love are quite cozy indeed.

Guess who got a new set of pastry tips and bags for their birthday?

As if you couldn’t see that coming.

A couple hundred years ago, I did in fact take a class on decorating cakes, but inadequate tools prevented me from practicing or retaining anything I learned. Now I’m re-teaching myself, trial and error, leaving a path of splattered frosting in my wake. I swear, one could have sold tickets to watch me simply trying to fill the pastry bag: A half hour long spectacle of the wrong way to even contemplate going about it! Needless to say, copious curses could be heard emanating from the kitchen as I fought to the death with that plastic cone. Thankfully, I ultimately emerged the victor.

Much of the difficulty lay in manipulating the frosting itself, because I had allowed the margarine to defrost on the counter all morning, and by the time I returned from school, I found the yellow sticks to be as soft as mashed potatoes. Barely capable of resisting even the most gentle prodding, I foolishly hoped for the best and tossed them into my stand mixer, worried about time constraints as I was. Yes, it worked out alright… But it was a beast to smooth over the double-decker cake. Not as cooperative in exiting my pastry bag as I had wanted either, but I recovered by switching up the border designs to slightly less complicated configurations.

It’s a little hard to tell from these shots, but this was also my first attempt at using a cake comb. So very excited, but I was ill prepared for such a venture. With no lazy suzan to turn the cake, I rotated it by hand, pressing the comb gently to the exterior, but the results were uneven and lumpy. Going back over it applying more pressure, I achieved something almost uniform in appearance, but in some places the comb dug in too deep and actually sheared off crumbs of the underlying layers. Ah well, can’t expect the first time to be perfect, and it was nothing that more frosting couldn’t fix anyway.

The cake unlucky enough to be subjected to my experiments was actually for my little cousin, who happens to be celebrating her 13th birthday this weekend. Wanting to appeal to her grown-up taste buds, I used the cappuccino cupcake recipe originally found in VCToTW, doubled, and baked in two 8” cake pans. The frosting is a basic chocolate vegan buttercream, with a dash of additional instant coffee powder for a slightly mocha flavor. Sandwiched between the two layers resides the same frosting, because I ran out of time to make a different filling, but I don’t think that anyone was too upset about this transgression.