Regardless, it seems that everyone is gossiping a gossiping about the atmospheric conditions lately. 50-degree days in late January, immediately followed by sleet, later to be washed away for another sunny afternoon? It’s the best sort of madness, removing the fangs from a brutal winter season while keeping things exciting. Scores of sunny days in a row make it seem like spring is just around the corner, and I can’t help but feel optimistic that we put the worst behind us way back in October. Unfortunately, the growing season is now lagging far behind my cravings for fresh produce.

Glistening red orbs of heirloom tomatoes taunt from pristine display towers, looking every bit as viable as the misshapen turnips and beets just down the aisle. Winter tomatoes, which sounds like the butt of a joke, tempt me like never before, and with the warmth of an unseasonably bright sun on my side, I can’t resist this time.

Condensing those savory fruits into a pure and fresh elixir seemed like the best approach, and nothing says “refreshing” quite like home-pressed juice. Inspired by the classic Bloody Mary, this virgin drink is not nearly so gruesome, and so much lighter and brighter than the original.

Bloodless Mary

4 Large, Ripe Tomatoes
1 Ounce Fresh Parsley
1 Very Small Clove Garlic (Optional)
2 Stalks Celery
1 Medium Cucumber or 4 – 6 Big Leaves Romaine
1/4 Lemon, Seeded
1/2 Inch Fresh Ginger
1 Teaspoon Coconut Aminos or Braggs Liquid Aminos
1/4 Teaspoon Cayenne Pepper
Freshly Ground Black Pepper, to Taste

If you have a juicer, simply run all of the veggies through skim off the foam. Stir in both aminos and pepper.

For those working with a blender, toss everything in, except for the lemon. Squeeze the juice from it first before discarding the rind. Turn it on high speed and process until completely smooth. Pass the liquid through a fine mesh strainer or nut milk bag and discard the solids.

Garnish with lemon slices, celery stalks, cucumber spears, or any sort of pickled veggies. Drink up!

For a Full-Blooded version, simply add 2 teaspoons light agave nectar and 1/4 cup (2 ounces) vodka.

Makes 2 Servings

Printable Recipe

Filling options are truly limitless, but I do have three suggestions to get you started.

Creamy chocolate mousse is a fool-proof pick for any crowd, possessing a richness and depth of flavor unexpected from such a simple preparation.   Pecan pie, that classy southern belle, meets with the decidedly northern delight of maple syrup.  Crunchy, nutty, sweet and salty, this study in contrasts comes together harmoniously in each bite.  Finally, the last filling is not one to share with the kids, but a treat for the adults to fight over instead.  Tender pieces of ripe pear are gently simmered in and infused with cider and red wine before being stuffed inside those flaky pastry cases.   Family-style pies can only dream of being this elegant and fun all at once.

A few months stand in the way of this fun holiday, so you still have plenty of time to dream and scheme up something new. Hit the links for the aforementioned recipes, and check out the Maple-Pecan filling below…

Maple-Pecan Filling:

1/4 Cup Grade B Maple Syrup
1/4 Cup Plain Non-Dairy Milk
Pinch Salt
1 Tablespoon Cornstarch
3/4 Cup Pecan Pieces
1/2 Teaspoon Vanilla Extract

In a medium saucepan over medium-low heat, vigorously whisk together the maple syrup, non-dairy milk, salt, and cornstarch, so that there are no lumps of starch remaining. Cook until the mixture comes up to a lively bubble, whisking constantly so that nothing sticks or burns. Once fully boiling and significantly thickened, turn off the heat and stir in the pecan pieces and vanilla. Cool completely before baking into pie pops.

Proceed as per the instructions in the pie crust recipe.

Printable Recipe

[Written for Joy of Kosher Magazine]

Seeking an elegant starter to whet my appetite, the Heirloom Tomato-Avocado Tartare (page 6) was a stunningly easy recipe to whip together. Not entirely dissimilar to chunky guacamole, minus the heat, fresh, bright, and clean flavors balanced in delicate harmony. The addition of oyster mushrooms struck me as particularly brilliant, lending a subtle savory undertone without disrupting the texture. Speaking of which, the combination of creamy avocado and the garnish of crunchy tortilla strips was spot-on, and although that finishing touch may appear minimal, do not feel tempted to leave them out! While the rest of the tartare is very clean and light, that fried topping brings a touch of decadence and whimsy back to the dish.

Moroccan-Spiced Chickpea Cakes (page 66) were a clear choice from the moment I cracked open the book’s binding. A more involved plate calling for three separate elements, it could certainly be simplified with a store-bought chutney or curry sauce, but you’d be missing out, because the real winner of this combination was the Red Bell Pepper-Curry Sauce (page 117.) I was scraping my plate clean with a spoon long after the chickpea cake was devoured, and have plans to make a new batch of sauce for pasta, veggies, and anything else I can throw together. Subtly sweet, mildly spiced but incredibly flavorful, this is an absolute winner. Even though I cheated a bit and used yellow peppers instead of red, I don’t think this dressing suffered in the least.

Let’s not forget the chickpea cake in the glory of the curry sauce, though! Striking me as the perfect sort of burger patty, I would make those again in a heart-beat come grilling season. Between two buns, this fine fare could blend right in to the everyday meal. Moist without being mushy inside, crisp on the outside (admittedly, after an extra 20 minutes of baking) and redolent of smoked paprika, I can’t imagine anyone not loving this.

Next time, I could do without the chutney, which was doomed from the start knowing my distaste for fruit in savories. To make a more seasonally appropriate offering, and because I couldn’t possibly find apricots in January, I converted the Apricot Chutney (page 125) to a green apple chutney. The ginger pairs beautifully with the tart apples, so I think it would be a hit… With someone who appreciates such a thing.

Seeking a quick fix for dinner one day, the Setian Wheatballs (page 94) stood out as an easy, hearty entree. Normally not the sort of recipe that draws me in, I was most enticed by the fact that we had all of the ingredients on hand, and the falling snow outside dissuaded me from a quick grocery trip. Though tender and tasty enough, they seemed a bit too delicate for a “meatball,” and very mild in flavor. They almost disappeared into the mild-mannered store bought sauce (yes, I cheated) and plain spaghetti. Overall, inoffensive but forgettable.

Finally, ending on a sweet note, the Sourdough French Toast (page 136) had me intrigued. Using a custard that seemed more like unbaked cheesecake batter, it was clear that this would be far richer than my typical approach. True to form, it was not quite like a “traditional” egg-based French toast according to my omnivorous dining companion, but different does not mean bad. Lightly spiced and plenty sweet without any additional syrup, I can’t say it’s my favorite rendition, but it’s a nice change of pace from the norm.

If you’ve made it this far through my exhaustive descriptions, your patience will be rewarded because you now have a chance at winning your own copy of the Candle 79 Cookbook! It took some string-pulling and help from the gracious, lovely, and ultra-talented Mimi Clark to secure a second book, but I really wanted to share this unique text. To enter, your question is this: What Candle 79 dish would you most like to try? It can be a recipe from the cookbook or anything on the menu, past or present. Leave me a comment with your name and email in the appropriate fields before Tuesday, January 31st at midnight EST to have your entry count. This one is open to residents of the US only, because it is a woefully heavy hardcover to ship.

For whatever reason, limes find their way into fewer of my recipes and daily eats than any other citrus, so it seemed only fair to reverse that trend. Perfect for our recent bout of snow, which is still sticking to the ground and discouraging me from driving out into the suburban wilderness, a yeasted, lime-enhanced cake was just what the doctor ordered. Warming the kitchen as they baked and lifting the spirits once eaten, the winter blues don’t stand a chance with these zesty pastries on hand.

Lime Baba Au Rhum

Baba Dough:

1 3/4 Cups All Purpose Flour
1/4 Cup Granulated Sugar
1 Package Active Dry Yeast
1/2 Teaspoon Salt
1/4 Cup Whole Flax Seeds, Ground
3/4 Cup Water
1/4 Cup Plain Non-Dairy Milk
1/4 Cup Lime Juice
2 Teaspoons Lime Zest
5 Tablespoons Non-Dairy Margarine, Melted
1/2 Cup Toasted and Chopped Walnuts

Rum Syrup:

1 Cup Granulated Sugar
1/2 Cup Dark Rum
1/2 Cup Water

Apricot Glaze:

1/2 Cup Apricot Preserves
1 Tablespoon Water

Rather than the typical proofing approach for making bread, these babas are assembled more like a cake. First, whisk together the flour, yeast, sugar, salt, and ground flax seeds in the bowl of your stand mixer (if using; otherwise a large bowl will do.) Once the dry goods are thoroughly combined, turn your attention to the liquids. Heat the water and non-dairy milk to about 120 – 130 degrees, but not to a boil, or else you’ll kill the yeast. This should feel hot to the touch but not burn your fingers.

Pour the liquid into the large bowl, and start mixing on low speed. Immediately follow that addition with the lime juice, zest, melted margarine, and walnuts. Continue mixing until the dough begins to come together, and then switch to the dough hook on your stand mixer. The dough will be very soft and sticky, so keep a close eye on it to make sure it doesn’t creep up on top of the hook or get stuck to the sides of the bowl. Use your spatula to guide it back as needed, and continue beating for about 5 minutes to develop the gluten. Once fairly smooth, leave the dough in the bowl and cover the whole thing with a piece of plastic wrap. Let rise in a warm place for 1 – 1 1/2 hours, until nearly doubled in size.

Lightly grease 6 popover tins or 10 – 12 standard muffin cups; set aside.

Gently punch down your risen yeast batter, and divide it equally between your greased tins. Let rise once more for about 30 minutes, or until the dough has expanded to fill the tins. Meanwhile, preheat your oven to 350 degrees. Once risen, bake for 20 – 25 minutes, until golden brown all over. Turn out the yeasted cakes onto wire racks and let cool.

Prepare the rum syrup by simply combining the sugar, rum, and water in a small saucepan over medium heat. Cook until the sugar has dissolved, and you’re ready to go.

Prick the babas all around the sides with a fork before dipping each in the syrup, to allow for better absorption. Dip each two or three times, and then return them to the cooling rack to rest, or serve immediately.

To serve, microwave the apricot jam and water together for just 30 – 60 seconds, to loosen up the jam and warm it through. Stir well, and apply liberally to the tops of your babas. Feel free to serve with an additional spoonful of the rum syrup over the top, too.

Makes 6 – 12 Babas

Printable Recipe

Out of the grocery bag back at home, it gingerly goes into the vegetable bin. A day later, heavier vegetables are moved around and get placed on top of the once firm stems, now quickly softening to imitate limp noodles. Another day passes, and surely I’ve forgotten I ever purchased such a thing; the tender green curls are crushed beneath a second load of re-sorted produce. Fast forward a week, and no doubt that same kale would still be there, beginning to yellow around the edges drooping like a neglected bouquet of flowers. Kale goes into the bin, and it’s time to go grocery shopping again. Oh, look at that kale, I should get some!

No more of this madness! I’ve had enough of throwing away perfectly good kale. My forgetfulness is inexplicable, but for some reason, kale just never seems to quite fit into what I’m making at the moment. Instead of repeating the same pattern yet again, I stopped the cycle halfway through, deciding that the only way out was to construct a new dish built around the greenery itself.

Typical kale pitfalls include: 1) Giant, uncut pieces that must be chewed for months to properly break down, 2) Overcooked, grey, and bitter leaves, and 3) Bland, boring and approaches simply too austere to genuinely enjoy. Shredding my raw kale finely and pairing it with bright, exciting flavors solved my last remaining scraps of hesitation with ease. Kelp noodles were sitting sadly at the bottom of the fridge, similarly forgotten, so I threw them in as well, but they turned out to be superfluous. With or without the noodles, I know this is one dish that will put the brakes on my poor kale-keeping habits.

A one-dish wonder that won’t weigh you down, this is a substantial salad that packs in edamame for protein, and plenty of good fats via avocado, pinenuts, and just a dab of olive oil. Above all else though, the invigorating lemon and ginger dressing makes it no chore to plow through a big bowlful of greens, no matter how remiss you’ve been on squeezing them into the daily diet before.

Crave-Worthy Kale Salad

Optional:
12 Ounce Package Kelp Noodles
2 Tablespoons Lemon Juice
Warm Water

1 Bunch Kale, Washed and Dried
3 Scallions
1 Cup Shelled Edamame
1 English Cucumber, Halved and Sliced
1 Ripe Avocado
2 Tablespoons Lemon Juice
1 Tablespoon Olive Oil
1 Tablespoon Mirin
1 Teaspoon Lemon Zest
1 Teaspoon Ground Ginger
Big Pinch Cayenne Pepper
Salt to Taste
1/4 Cup Toasted Pine Nuts or Sunflower Seeds

If using kelp noodles, place them in a small bowl and add warm water to cover. Mix in the lemon juice and stir to combine. Let sit and soften for at least 15 minutes while you prepare the rest of the salad. Rinse and drain thoroughly before using.

Remove the large, woody stems from the kale, and then stack up the leaves on top of each other for easier slicing. Chop them into thin ribbons, and add them to a large bowl. Thinly slice the scallions, and toss those in along with the edamame and cucumber.  Dice the avocado and toss it with the lemon juice before introducing it to into the same bowl, along with any leftover juice. Finally whisk together the oil, mirin, lemon zest, ginger, cayenne, and salt, and pour the dressing over the greens. Toss everything very well to combine, and as well as the kelp noodles if using. Top each serving with pine nuts or sunflower seeds before serving.

Serves 4 – 6

Printable Recipe

Appropriately anonymous and well-suited to cooking and baking, the unsweetened “milk” is good, but I would be hard pressed to come up with a rave about something that excels at tasting mild. However, the Vanilla is another story. Not particularly thick but far from the watery mess I had feared, this flax beverage is surprisingly smooth and creamy. Accentuated with a light sweetness, it’s highly drinkable, and practically begging for a rich chocolate cookie alongside as an accompaniment. A very impressive and respectable non-dairy milk indeed, I would happily purchase this one frequently for my everyday smoothies… if only I could find it!

Also new to the Good Karma line-up is their rice-based coffee creamer. Highly skeptical, to say the least, but undeniably intrigued, I simply had to try what is currently the only existing rice milk creamer on the market. Sure there’s plenty of soy and coconut options now, but rice could provide those with allergies and coconut-adverse tastes a whole new lease on lightened coffee life.

Just like the previous beverages, I was shocked at how good all three flavors (Original, Vanilla, and Hazelnut) were. Near flawless, in fact; I’d even venture to say that they’re better than the typical vegan creamers I had been using. Much thicker than the competition, like heavy cream, each bottle contained a luscious, silky-smooth liquid entirely richer and more satisfying that I could have anticipated. Fatty in the best way possible, it added volumes of depth to any average latte.

I generally prefer my coffee black though, so where this creamer really shined in my eyes was when it made it into the savory side of the kitchen. Using the unsweetened, original flavor in my Straight-Up Scramble brought this simple staple to life. I found myself making many more scrambles all month, right up until the bottle went dry. Don’t even get me started on the ice creams it churned out… It feels mean to tease about such decadent treats.

In a stunning coup, Good Karma has changed my mind on what rice, and flax, is capable of. If only they could get their products into more mainstream markets, they’d be an unstoppable force of non-dairy drinks!

Topping this list of “must order” items is edamame. Those young soy beans are one of the only green edibles that said vegetable-hater will actually consume, and even willingly most times! Trust me, that’s a big deal in our household. Thus, a big bowl of edamame always graces our table, to be shared communally.

Vegetable gyoza are another staple found on most menus, and what’s not to like about chewy wonton skin stretched around a savory filling? Steamed or fried, plump parcels or dainty half-moons, even bad gyoza are pretty darn good.

And of course, the main event, the sushi. There’s so much more than just the standard cucumber and avocado, but there’s nothing wrong with those reassuring staples either. Nigiri is usually off the menu for me, but hey, when it’s made of this much fiber, it’s got to be vegan!

Tiny sushi bar pattern by Anna Hrachovec

Birthdays of mine have been historically bad days in the past, taking into consideration both apocalyptic winter weather and borderline psychotic meltdowns, so this quieter, uneventful rendition was a merciful change of pace. Less a marker of having arrived at some milestone, I found the date reassuring, a small checkpoint within the greater journey. I’m still here, twenty three years later, and it’s beginning to look like I may just be here in another twenty three as well. Imagine that.

Corresponding with my laid back non-celebration, the cake at hand was simple, unfussy- Homely by some estimations. All I wanted was a dark, moist, spicy gingerbread cake, one that reminded me of The One That Got Away. Ten years ago, scouting out a location for my Bat Mitzvah, I chose the final restaurant based solely on the gingerbread cake served for dessert. Dripping with caramel and finished with a fluffy halo towering over the plate, it’s now all I remember about that meal. In my youth and excitement, it never occurred to me that the event would be catered, and I would never see that beauty of a cake again. In fact, the restaurant has since gone out of business, just to close that book entirely.

So I made it for myself, ten years later. (Ten years. 10. It bears repeating because it seems wildly impossible that so much time could have passed.) Even if there were no candles and no fanfare, it was the perfect ending to my non-celebration.

Gingerbread Blackout Cake

2 1/2 Cups All Purpose Flour
3 Tablespoons Black Cocoa Powder
1 Teaspoon Baking Powder
1/2 Teaspoon Baking Soda
6 – 7 Teaspoons (2 Heaping Tablespoons) Ground Ginger
2 Teaspoons Ground Cinnamon
1/2 Teaspoon Ground Cloves
1/4 Teaspoon Ground Nutmeg
1/8 Teaspoon Ground Black Pepper
1 Cup Brewed and Cooled Coffee
3/4 Cup Molasses
3/4 Cup No Sugar Added Pumpkin Butter or Apple Butter
1 1/2 Cups Granulated Sugar
3/4 Cup Canola Oil

Vegan Butterscotch Sauce (From Vegan À La Mode, coming soon!) or Caramel Sauce, and Whipped Creme

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees and lightly grease a 9 x 9-inch square baking pan; Set aside.

In a large bowl, sift together the flour, cocoa, baking powder and soda, and spices. Whisk well to distribute all of the dry goods throughout, and double-check that there are no clumps.

Separately, mix the coffee, molasses, pumpkin butter, sugar, and oil until smooth. Pour the wet ingredients into the bowl of dry, and stir with a wide spatula to bring the two together. Being careful not to over-mix, stir just until the batter is smooth and not a second longer. Transfer the batter into your prepared baking pan, smooth out the top, and pop it in the oven. Immediately turn down the heat to 325 degrees, even before you close the oven door.

Bake for 45 – 50 minutes, until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean- Perhaps with a few moist crumbs sticking to it but certainly not wet. Let cool completely before slicing and serving with butterscotch sauce and whipped creme.

If time allows, this cake does get better with age, so try to make it a day or two in advance for the flavor profile to become more nuanced and balanced.

Makes 16 – 20 Servings

Printable Recipe

Snowless, sunny, and merely brisk, these days have been ideal. Undoubtedly the lucky streak will end, leaving me scurrying for cover once again beneath layers of knitwear and blankets, but for now, 2012 has been a gracious visitor. Lest I find myself completely unprepared for those brutal days that certainly lay ahead, it doesn’t hurt to work on the repertoire of warming soups.

Inspired by an odd find while perusing a grocery store in Germany, this hearty bowlful of mushrooms and potatoes has an unusual secret ingredient: Sauerkraut juice. Sold not just as the liquid packed with pickled cabbage, it’s actually available as a wholly separate beverage, sold in bottles as if to be drank in place of the morning OJ. So intrigued by this novel concept, I couldn’t resist smuggling home an aseptic package to play with in the kitchen. Salty, tangy, a little bit odd- It sounded perfect for livening up the standard bowl of starchy soup.

A definite belly-warmer with a bit of German flare, it would still be highly tasty without the sauerkrauter saft. Additional mushroom broth or standard vegetable broth would both make for welcome, savory substitutions.

Sauerkraut Saft Suppe

3 Tbsp Olive Oil
1 Medium Red Onion, Chopped
1 Large Clove Garlic, Minced
10 Ounces Mixed Mushrooms, Lightly Chopped if Needed*
3 – 4 Cups Chopped Savoy Cabbage
2 – 3 Medium Yukon Gold Potatoes, Peeled and Diced
2 Tablespoons Tomato Paste
1 1/2 Cups Sauerkraut Juice
2 1/2 Cups Mushroom Broth
1 Bay Leaf
1/2 Teaspoon Fennel Seeds, Ground
1/2 Teaspoon Caraway Seeds, Ground
1/2 Teaspoon Celery Seeds, Ground
1 Teaspoon Smoked Paprika

3 Scallions, Sliced
1 Tablespoon Dried Parsley
1 Teaspoon Dried Dill
Freshly Ground Black Pepper, to taste

*I used a frozen mixture by Woodstock Farms that included shiitake, shimeiji, field mushrooms, and abalone mushrooms.

Heat the oil in a large stock pot over medium heat, and the onion and garlic together until softened and aromatic, but do not brown. Introduce the mushrooms, cabbage, and potatoes next, stirring lightly until the cabbage has wilted down a bit; 5 – 8 minutes. Mix the tomato paste into 1/2 cup of either the sauerkraut juice or broth to break it up into a smooth mixture before adding all of the liquids in. Add in the bay leaf, fennel, caraway, celery seeds, and paprika.

Bring the soup to a boil, and then reduce the heat to a simmer. Cook for 20 – 30 minutes, or until the potatoes are very tender. Turn off the heat and mix in the scallions, parsley, dill, and pepper to taste- But for the love of food, do not add salt! As one might imagine, the sauerkraut juice is intensely salty, and it doesn’t need any additional seasoning in that regard.

Makes 4 – 6 Servings

Printable Recipe

Skipping ahead to the “fall” section, I couldn’t resist the Carrot Cashew Miso Spread (page 90). A popular pick, this is a recipe I had been hearing raves about since before I owned a copy of the book. Combining a mere four ingredients, I had to see what all the hype could be about. Surprisingly sweet, owing to the natural sugars of the carrots, for lack of a better description, it has an undeniably “clean” flavor. Even more satisfying than the usual hummus, the cashews add heft that give it real staying power; an ideal snack for a demanding day. With an excellent hit of salt from the miso, this humble spread really does live up to expectations.

Flipping back a few pages to summer, the Cucumber Mint Salad (page 64) was calling my name. Despite feeling odd chopping up a big bowl of cucumbers mid-January, I can easily see how this would be the ideal dish at a warm, sunny picnic a few months down the road. Cool, light, and refreshing, it’s so simple that it’s more of an idea than a recipe, but that’s also the beauty of the dish. Allowing the cucumbers to shine, accented with complimentary dill and mint, this preparation would make for a fantastic pairing to any heavier main dish.

Returning to autumnal ideas, Ginger Shiitake Soup with Cabbage and Edamame Beans (page 98), hardly takes all of 15 minutes to pull together, but bursts with complex flavor in every spoonful. Admittedly, I reduced the amount of water significantly (down to 5 cups rather than 8) which would undoubtedly concentrate flavors, but I prefer a soup packed with goodies, and certainly nothing watery. Shiitake mushrooms take the stage, lending powerfully rich, savory undertones throughout. Every component is remarkably well balanced – A theme repeated throughout each recipe on trial. Move over “chicken” noodle soup: This newcomer might be the new go-to sick day soup around here.

Buttercup Squash with Quinoa, Apricot and Sage Stuffing (page 152) may be a mouthful of a title, but it’s hardly more complex than preheating on the oven while simultaneously bringing water to a boil. A celebratory dish if I ever saw one, one of these golden squashes would be right at home as part of any holiday spread. Though buttercup squashes evaded my grasp, acorn filled the void quite nicely, and next time I’ll have to take Terry’s suggestion of a delicata substitution. Working to reduce food prejudices, I embraced the addition of dried apricots in this savory application- Diced very, very finely, of course. Happily, the cheerful orange fruits melded in seamlessly, indiscernible from the rest of the stuffing. Tasting instantly like the holidays thanks to the sage, I only wish there was a bit more texture throughout. Almonds add delightful crunch on top, but it becomes a bit of a mushy drudge to eat through all of the center stuffing. An easy issue to remedy with nuts mixed into all of the quinoa instead, I would have no quibbles serving this at a festive gathering, or a quiet night at home.

Some of the “recipes” in Clean Start struck me more as just common sense, such concepts make this a perfectly approachable entry to the newbie cook, seeking healthy options. Lest that sounds like criticism, it bears repeating that every recipe I sampled reveled in that simplicity, carefully calibrated to keep all components in balance. In other words, don’t expect haute cuisine, innovative techniques, or unconventional flavor pairings to leap forth from these pages. Simplicity rules, especially for the home cook seeking painless recipes to add to their everyday repertoire.