Will the avocado prevail? Or the suggestive bite of an apple? Or perhaps the red onion that sees all and though it bares its every crimson layer remains a mystery?
If you haven’t guessed, this is an update to the vote for the food photo for me to send in to this: You can now either check out the “Feast your eyes” posts OR some contenders on Flickr.
Post your vote as a comment to this post. Thanks!
Here’s a recipe from Aiko, who mentioned this simple vegan delight when we had a little reunion in the New Paltz area. We really must have weddings back home more often!
Tofu Chocolate Pudding
Ingredients
-1 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips or a bar of dark chocolate
-1 package soft tofu
-Maple syrup or whatever kind of sweetener you go for
(I don’t have exact measurements because I don’t think you really need them. It’s the perfect recipe)
Method
-Blend the tofu in a blender or food processor until creamy
-Melt the chocolate. This is usually done by placing a bowl over a pot of boiling water and keeping an eye on it so that the chocolate doesn’t scorch
-Mix the chocolate with the tofu in the blender
-Add sweetener until you’ve reached your desired sweetness level
Presentation
Like any pudding, it’s best to pour into individual serving dishes and then cool in the refrigerator.
Alternatively, you can freeze it. I did this in an ice cube tray where the ice cubes were shaped like a heart. Once frozen they were easy to remove only becuase the ice tray was rubber and I could pop them out. With plastic ice cube trays you may need to oil the surface so they pop out (I don’t know what that will do to the taste) or maybe lay some wax paper inside before pouring. Anyway, frozen they are no different from fudgesicles. Delicious!!
… including this here Jew. I’m going to it!
This should be quite interesting. A chance to see the Isabella Freedman Jewish Retreat Center, be in the presence of a shechted goat, and see all sorts of creative foodie presenters.
Yet another great part of the Hazon Food Conference, I just learned, is a photo exhibit. I plan to submit some photos, and I thought it would be fun to have readers vote on which You are Delicious pix I should send. Please take a look at past entries or look at all the posts labeled “Feast your eyes” with photos taken by me. Then leave a comment and let me know which are worthy!
Yesterday I got it into my head to stop by the U Street Farmers’ Market early.
Just to put in a quick plug for farmers’ markets, they are a wise thing to frequent. They are green as can be because they bring the produce directly from the local farmer to you (fewer food miles and less carbon emissions!), and make that important connection between the eater and where/how the food is produced. Plus the food is always fresh and delicious!
Anyway, as I was about to take off at the outrageous hour of 8:30 on a Saturday morning, I suddenly was seized with doubt. Is this one of those markets that opens at 10? Is it still happening this far into the fall? I thought some research was in order before I headed out.
The first item in a Google search was a city development firm. Uh… no. There was a lovely review of the market here, but without specifics. DCist had the right dates but the wrong times. Logan Circle News had another listing for the hours (which turned out to be correct), but didn’t mention the date range. Even El WaPo seems to have overlooked it in 2006 and I didn’t see another listing for 2007.
I am here to tell you:
U Street Farmers’ Market
14th and U Street NW
9 a.m.-1 p.m on Saturdays*
For 2007, it runs June 2 until November 17
*I don’t recommend getting there early because the city keeps these wily farmers in line with a strict ordinance that says they can’t sell anything until the stroke of 9.
Pesticide-free produce, cider, homemade pasta and free-range meat, baked goods from the Bread Line, an opportunity to donate food you buy to Martha’s Table — it’s all there for another two weeks.
And do check out the WaPo’s list of farmers’ markets for more. Just plan your arrival wisely.
This week has been a fun one for food, so I think a few awards are in order.
1) Funnest Food Day for Kids, of course, goes to the inimitable Halloween. There is just no other time when you can go right up to strangers–in their own homes, no less–and instead of getting shooed away or kidnapped, be given sweet treats.
2) Most Mess Made with a Simple Cake Mix goes to me. I baked Halloween cupcakes for my office, topped with Milano halves to look like gravestones, and managed to make an astonishingly prodigious mess. This was a one-bowl operation, a simple mix-and-bake process, so it was already noteworthy when I managed to get chocolate batter smudged on the counter, the stove, and my elbow. Then I discovered a big blotch of it on my shirt, under my apron.
People actually pay me to cook, and I’m able to prepare several dishes from scratch in a single cooking session. Yet somehow I ended up with the simplest recipe possible all over myself and my kitchen. I have to give myself a hand.
Moving on…
3) Biggest and Tastiest Bowl of Soup goes to the curry laksa at Cafe Asia on I St. I think the restaurant keeps sturdy plastic to go containers in stock just for leftover noodle soup. The one I ordered is a sea of coconut milk broth with just the right amount of kick to make you sit up and notice but not keep you from eating. The veggie version (which I think still contains some fish sauce in the broth) is filled with thinly-sliced carrots and napa cabbage and your choice of noodles, then topped with fried tofu. The veggies are put in there raw and cook just a tad in the hot soup, staying crunchy up until the last bite. And I made another whole meal out of the leftovers from my sturdy plastic container. At $9 a pop, you have no excuse to not try one of these two-meal bowls of yumminess.
A word of warning about Cafe Asia, though: Don’t go to the one in Arlington. That will bring you only heartache and boring udon. Even omnivore friends, who had a much larger selection, haven’t been thrilled with the food.
Please congratulate our new winners! Tune in next Friday, when the tradition of prizes at the week’s end may or may not continue!
The light in the dining room was low that night, but we could see several dishes laid out on the table as the hostess bid us sit down. Centipedes thicker than my fingers perched atop the dish in front of me.”Brains,” explained the hostess. She added, apologetically, “I think I left them out a bit too long.”
A bowl of slimy eyeballs was passed around and I soon realized that the appetizers on another tray were encased in a kind of gooey ectoplasm.
“I think that’s jello,” I assured the person next to me.
After a little more chit-chat, I was convinced that the denizens of Mother Irving had put on another great haunted house. I was ready to smile and be grossed out a little more.
The hostess asked us to stay for the main dish, indicating a cake-sized platter in the middle of the table. I imagined a realistic plastic body part or candy worms wriggling through a potroast. She removed the cover, revealing…
A human head! And it was real–and alive!
“Get out! Get out!” It screamed. “Get out while you can!!”
We shrieked and ran. It was even better than I’d expected.
The email I received had urged attendees to “bring friends, many delicious friends.” Now I could see the reason.
The haunted house also featured a room set up for Japanese tea. A hunched figure in the corner slowly turned as we passed through, staring in a menacing and corpse-like way, saying nothing intelligible. At another point, we were shown into a kitchen where we were greeted by a knife-wielding skeleton chef looking for people on his “menu.” With the strobe light and “blood” flashing everywhere, he advanced toward us and before I knew it my hand shot out to protect me and push him away. A little sheepish at my own fear, I moved on.
The dining room was the highlight of the Mother Irving haunted house this year, I must say. But really everything in the food-themed adventure was awesome. Well done, Irvingites! You’ve done a foodie proud.
And readers: Happy Halloween!
Apple cider is simply delightful. I was reminded of that again this fall. A cup of mulled cider, I’d argue, is better than a glass of red wine at the end of the day or with dinner. And even though it tastes just like biting into an apple, it won’t get bruised or mealy while it’s sitting in your fridge.
I believe that the reasons for cider’s attraction can be broken into the chemical and the psychological.
The chemical part is easy. The beverage contains an ideal balance of concentrated fruit sugars and tart acids, combined with high levels of yumminess. These factors create a pleasing flavor on the tongue.
On the psychological side, cider hits the shelves in earnest right when the weather is turning cold. Personally, as soon as the weather requires sleeves of any length, I start looking for the nearest cozy cave. I think most of us crave something warm and comforting right about now, but the grocery stores haven’t yet stocked–and we don’t want to admit that we need–supplies for scalding tea and hearty stew. And the cool thing about cider is that it can follow the blips and burps of the season. Drink it cold if you have a freakish warm spell in October, then heat it up when you get a chilly night.
Even the process of preparing hot cider is just right. You can pour it into a pot and simmer it on the stove. The smell fills the house, filling the air that’s a little stuffier now since you’ve closed the windows against the cold. Cider is also something to you can offer to anyone–even a large group–and know that you won’t break the bank and everyone will like it. The hotel at Gallaudet offers free hot cider to anyone who comes any time of the day for the entire fall and most of the winter. Apple cider situates itself perfectly at the intersection of flavorful, available, likable, affordable, and heatable.
Although in most other places “cider” means the fermented alcoholic drink, in the U.S. we still make a distinction. I like that. That stuff is hard cider, while the tasty stuff you can give to hotel patrons, 20-somethings, grandparents, and trick-or-treaters alike is just plain apple cider …and it’s delish.
Here’s a quick mulled cider recipe:
Pour a few cups of apple cider into a saucepan and start to heat on medium-low. Throw in a few whole cloves, cardamom pods, sticks of cinnamon, and/or pieces of star anise. Simmer for 10-20 minutes. I like to add a little water partway through to keep it from boiling down and getting too sweet. Now strain and pour into a big mug that requires both hands to hold. Sip and smile.
de-frost-a-tion de-fra-‘sta-shun n. : The process by which a cook diminishes the foliage in her freezer by removing and thawing. Usually followed by cooking and a sense of satisfaction at eating local vegetation weeks after it has gone out of season.
If you’re like me, you think as much about what food to bring to the Halloween party as what to wear. Because of this presumed obsession with food, you have probably realized that Halloween fare can be so much more than brown and orange M&Ms. It can be sophisticated, scary, or delightfully gross. And, I shall argue, it doesn’t have to be loaded with sugar and artificial colors. Take that, Mars!
First of all, you should definitely check out this wealth of fun ideas. (One day I really want to try those eyeballs).
Here are a few slightly simpler ideas.
Polenta Fingers with Monstrous Marinara — Slice polenta to resemble disembodied fingers, fry, and serve with “bloody” marinara sauce. (Adding beet juice, or water that beets were simmered in, can achieve a more authentic blood hue)
Frightfully Good Cheesies – Start by making some wasabi mayo: thoroughly combine about 1/4 cup mayonnaise, 1/4 cup softened cream cheese, a few teaspoons wasabi powder, and salt to taste. Quarter the slices of one loaf of dark pumpernickel bread and slice 12 oz. orange cheddar cheese (don’t worry – it’s usually colored with totally natural annatto). Assemble by slathering a little mayo on each slice and topping with cheese.
Brains on Toast – Combine 8 oz. softened cream cheese, 1-2 Tbs. miso paste, 1-2 Tbs. finely chopped onion, and 2 tsp. vegetarian Worcestershire sauce. Spread on melba toast or toasted baguette. Top with strips of roasted red pepper “entrails” if desired.
Chocolate Graveyards– Get yourself some chocolate cake batter, frosting, and chocolate cookies (organic and/or local, of course) and bake up a cake or a bunch of cupcakes. Frost the top(s) and cover with crumbled cookies (“dirt”) to create a graveyard. Position candy tombstones, gummy worms, green apple cut to look like tufts of grass, etc. along the top.
… and if you’ve ever channeled the ghosts of MIT grads past, you might have success with a Robot Hand. (It really moves! Eat it before it eats you!)
Or try any of these healthy, yummy ideas. What cute jack-Os!
Have fun!
They show up in the salads of every diner you visit and are a mainstay of produce aisles, but radishes are not the kind of thing you go crazy over. I’ve never heard of any cookbooks dedicated to them or festivals celebrating them. They are more of an afterthought. But there they were in my CSA share, coming at a rate of six to eight a week, so I decided to make an effort to use them.
The other night, I happened to have a homemade seaweed salad hanging out in my fridge (not common for the average person, I know, but this is me we’re talking about) and a bell went off.
I realized that the soft texture of the ‘weed and the crunch of the radishes would go together beautifully, with the shallow spice of the radish complimenting the deep, subtly salty flavor of its companion. Not only that, but the dark green of the seaweed with the vibrant pink and bright white of the radishes would also look mighty fine together.
So I devised and test drove a recipe that I think came out quite well. I wrote it out here with instructions for making it all from scratch. I’m taking the liberty of assuming you won’t have reconstituted seaweed sitting around.
Radish and seaweed salad
Serves about 4
Ingredients:
1 handful dried wakame seaweed, or other stringy seaweed
1 small bunch radishes, sliced in half moons
3 Tbs. umeboshi plum vinegar, or other vinegar with a sprinkling of sugar and salt
2 tsp. toasted sesame oil
1-2 tsp. sesame seeds
Soy sauce (optional)
What to do:
Soak the seaweed in cold water for 10 minutes or until soft. Meanwhile, slice the radishes and let them soak in the vinegar.
Drain the seaweed and chop into bite-sized pieces. Remove the radish slices from their vinegar bath, reserving the vinegar. Combine and toss with sesame oil and sesame seeds. Add some vinegar or soy sauce if desired.
Eat!
You Are Delicious 
