- I nabbed a book called The Top 100 Traditional Remedies: 100 Home Remedies for Health and Well-Being from my library last week and spent a little bit of time flipping through it on Saturday. When I first started reading it, I got a bit geeked out, because it goes through vegetables, legumes, spices, fruits, etc. and explains how they are useful as home-remedies, and suggests a recipe along with each item. And as I was flipping through them, I noticed that most of the recipes were vegan, which of course got me excited to recommend the book to you all on this here blog. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that, curses, there were some recipes that called for some non-vegan items. But I thought, Well, hell--most of the folks that read this blog are brilliant vegan converters, so a few silly non-vegan ingredients won't stop them. But then I realized: there's a meat section in the book. A fricking meat section. Bad enough. But what bothered me even more about the meat section was that, you guessed it, it buys into all the bullshit myths about meat being good for your body. For example, under "Beef" it lists it out as a good remedy for anemia. To which I could feel my fingers curling into fists, my hair standing on end, and my urge to shout "OH NO YOU DIDN'T!" rising inside me. So yes. The book was interesting. Until I got to the meat part. And then I just found myself sadly disappointed that what *seemed* to be so holistic and health-oriented was just a farce wrapped in another farce wrapped in a big wad of lamb (which was also in there).
- I think I've mentioned before that I have a couple of groundhogs which live in my yard (which I find to be particularly charming because I live in the city, and there's two houses on my lot, which means not a lot of green-space). Anyways, I see them every once in a while, and I like to watch them. They scale trees suprisingly well for being so pudge, and I sometimes see leaves wafting down from high up in the tree, and I like to think it's the male groundhog sending little greeneries of love twisting down in the wind for his love to nibble on. Probably not the case, but I like to think it. Well, yesterday, I came to realize that there's another resident on my lot: a nice fat racoon. And not just your average racoon, but one that apparently likes to roam around on my neighbor's roof. Heh heh. Color me a dork, but I had a helluva fun time watching him bumble about up there. (But MAN does the little dude have some serious flea problems--every two steps it was all itch itch itch.) Where I was going with that story, I don't know. Except to say, rock on, animal-life in the city!
- Apparently, as of late, my food-standards have taken a serious decline. BEFORE YOU START WORRYING THAT THIS MEANS I'VE BEEN INFLICTING HORRIBLE RECIPES ON YOU FOR THE LAST COUPLE WEEKS, what I'm referring to isn't recipes, but moreso food-quality. I've always been a bit neurotic when it comes to food--I won't eat certain things just because they FREAK ME THE HELL OUT even if they *are* perfectly edible (like grapes with weird dark-purple spots on them, or mushy strawberries). But apparently, in my attempts to become more tolerant of perfectly good foods that I really *should* just eat, I've kind of snowballed into the whole, "Well why the hell *not* eat it--what doesn't kill you makes you stronger" vein of eating. I realized this was happening a couple months ago when I was talking to my fella on the phone and mentioned that I was eating leftovers that I had actually left sitting out in my car overnight, and he paused and then said, "Jesus. You're, like, turning into a *GUY*." My five-second rules have become "if you can blow the cat-hair and crumbs off of it, then it's still edible." And then yesterday, if you can believe it (which you probably can, but it's unusual for ME at least), I saw mold on my bagel, AND I ATE IT ANYWAYS. Granted, I trimmed most of it off, but I actually first contemplated eating it as is, calculating whether the heat of my toaster would destroy the mold anyways. But then I pictured myself kind of exploding with mold spores, like if someone bumped into me, I'd stumble, let out a belch and it would be like someone blew on a really large dandelion, and I thought--better do some trimming.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Just Some Things
Monday, August 27, 2007
Mock Tuna Salad
A couple weeks ago I saw this Mock Tuna Salad recipe recommended on someone's blog (whose blog it was now eludes me though), so I thought, Hey, Self, that'd be something yummy to make for lunches for the week, Self. So Self made a batch of "Tuna" Salad and was knocked off her feet by it. But then Self realized that she'd never actually tasted *real* tuna salad before (*gasps of shock and horror*) so she wasn't actually sure it *tasted* like real tuna salad, though it certainly did *smell* like it and reminded her of her mom and her family dog Lucy (whom she was convinced was half-cat since she had a fiendish love of tuna).
Anyways, Self tried to figure out how to get an accurate read on how tuna-esque the mock-tuna salad actually was, and it dawned on her she could save a wee bit for her fellow when he was in town for the weekend. This was a difficult task, as Self kept whittling down the quantity of "tuna" salad left, because it was *that* good. But thankfully there was enough left for him to try out Sunday morning, and lo and behold, despite him being skeptical of it tasting like *real* tuna salad, his eyes got big, and he said, "Well, I'll be damned--this actually *does* really taste like tuna salad" (or some equivalent of that where he didn't sound like an old guy in a fedora).
So yes: Self was correct. This is a damn good recipe. Enough so that Self has *seriously* been going through some serious mock-tuna-salad craving-waves this week, pretty much every meal starting off with the thought: "Damn, I wish I had me some of that Mock Tuna Salad."
Needless to say, Self heartily heartily HEARTILY recommends this recipe.
If you try out nothing else I've posted here in a while, Self recommends you at least try out this one.
INGREDIENTS:
- 1(15 oz.) can chick-peas, drained (or 1.5 c. cooked)
- 1/4 cup vegan mayonnaise (the original would call for in-excess of 1/4 c., but 1/4 c. is WAY more than enough--I think I even used only 1/4 c. on a double-batch of this, and it was *still* magnifique, so if you're looking for lower-fat and calories, just add a wee bit at a time)
- 1/3 cup minced celery
- 2.5 T. minced dill pickle (about 1 pickle-slice, give or take)
- 1/2 T. nutritional yeast
- 1 green onion, chopped
- 1 t. soy sauce
- 1/2 t. kelp powder (optional--i didn't use, b/c who the hell keeps kelp powder handy?)
- pepper, to taste
DIRECTIONS
In a medium bowl, mash the chick-peas coarsely with a fork. Mix in the remaining ingredients. Use on sandwiches or on a bed of salad greens.
(Original recipe from Compassionate Action for Animals)
Thursday, August 23, 2007
"A Little Sugar in My Bowl" Roasted Garlic & Shiraz Spaghetti Sauce
Also, a picture of Nina Simone--
she's way more gorgeous to stare at anyways...
When I realized I *still* had a fiendish desire for more pasta this weekend, I decided to whip a sauce together using just what I happened to have on hand. The end result is a very sweet pasta sauce, with a bit of rich and buxomy-type depth to it. I originally had 1 t. of sugar added to the onions while caramelizing them, but in all truth, I'd leave it out or most of you might find it a bit *too* sweet.
The end results tasted kind of like licking a dark cherry-wood grand piano in a wine-filled nightclub during the 1950s.
In fact, it's kind of like licking the silken skin of that throaty lounge singer who has her long legs draped like water across the top of that very same piano. Think Nina Simone and not John Malkovitch, and you've hit the nail on the head.
INGREDIENTS
- One 28-oz. can of crushed tomatoes
- 1 T. olive oil
- 1/3 c. diced onions
- 9 cloves of roasted garlic, mashed with a fork
- 1 t. italian seasonings
- 1 T. vegan Shiraz
- 1 T. balsamic vinegar
DIRECTIONS
Heat up 1 T. of olive oil in a saucepan until hot. Add your onions on medium-high heat and cook until brown and caramelized (directions on caramelizing HERE). Once thorougly cooked, add your crushed tomatoes, italian seasonings, garlic, shiraz, and vinegar. Cook on low for about 20 minutes.
Serve over pasta noodles of your choice. I also recommend serving some sauteed mushrooms on top as well--take a small container of whole mushrooms and slice them up thickly, heat 1 T. of olive oil in a pan and then add the mushrooms and just a little bit of season salt (don't add any sweet/garlicky seasonings since you'll have plenty already in your sauce--you'll want to keep the flavor simple since the flavor of the sauce is very full), fry until tender but not mushy (adding a fistful of water if they start to stick).
(I actually think this would taste better using a can of whole tomatoes and crushing them with a fork--the waterier and chunkier, the better. So if you happen to toy with it, let me know.)
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Endorsement of the Day (Also Intended to Distract You from All Previous Whining This Title is Long and Man Can You Make Them Long... Just Ran Out)
Now that my pity party is over (and I didn't get peed on), I'd like to post something that doesn't even ATTEMPT to disguise itself as food-related by including food pics at the end, and that is this:
I just bought shit through Cosmo's Vegan Shoppe which really kinda rocks (both the shit itself, and Cosmo's; and assuming that the stuff makes it to me and that they don't just drive to the edge of a ravine and toss my package off, laughing maniacally and rubbing their hands together like the evil masterminds they are).
Here's what I done bought:
I bought myself some vegan rubbers. So I can, um, slide them on my feet and squish around in the mud and go *glomp glomp glomp* and splash in large puddles. Not so I can have sex. No: Puddles. And glomping (which actually sort of SOUNDS like some sort of weird sex act now that I think about it).
I bought some mascara. Because even big ol' feminists sometimes like to pretty themselves up.
I bought some vegan donuts. Because they are vegan donuts.
And I bought a new bumper sticker for my car, since very unfortunately the Secret Society of Vegans won't mail out just one or two damn stickers (since it has to "weigh 1 lb"). F- one pound!
Now I just have to decide whether to plaster sticker #1 or sticker #2 on my car.
I suspect it won't take much to decide on #1, seeing as it has... *giggling* a cuss word in it! OH MY GOD SWEARS!
You should be cool like me and buy stuff from them. Then people might actually like you, instead of just pretending to.
I just bought shit through Cosmo's Vegan Shoppe which really kinda rocks (both the shit itself, and Cosmo's; and assuming that the stuff makes it to me and that they don't just drive to the edge of a ravine and toss my package off, laughing maniacally and rubbing their hands together like the evil masterminds they are).
Here's what I done bought:
I bought myself some vegan rubbers. So I can, um, slide them on my feet and squish around in the mud and go *glomp glomp glomp* and splash in large puddles. Not so I can have sex. No: Puddles. And glomping (which actually sort of SOUNDS like some sort of weird sex act now that I think about it).
I bought some mascara. Because even big ol' feminists sometimes like to pretty themselves up.
I bought some vegan donuts. Because they are vegan donuts.
And I bought a new bumper sticker for my car, since very unfortunately the Secret Society of Vegans won't mail out just one or two damn stickers (since it has to "weigh 1 lb"). F- one pound!
Now I just have to decide whether to plaster sticker #1 or sticker #2 on my car.
I suspect it won't take much to decide on #1, seeing as it has... *giggling* a cuss word in it! OH MY GOD SWEARS!
You should be cool like me and buy stuff from them. Then people might actually like you, instead of just pretending to.
At Least Mail Me Some Avocados, Peeps!
You ever have one of those weeks where you just feel like you're spiraling out of control on the crazy train (assuming trains can actually SPIRAL, which seems kind of difficult to me since they're usually long and not that flexible)?
This is one of those weeks.
I've had an added workload dumped on me at work, and I feel like I'm in this corporate state of hyper-consciousness (almost like meditation, but a bad evil kind) where I feel almost limnal and robotic and as though I am getting my shit done and in a trance-state or something. And it's motherf-ing lame. *Talking like a corporate robot--beep boop beep boop*
I also just bought a new car this week. And by "new car" I mean "a used car that isn't about to implode on itself." I hate hate hate cars. But unfortunately they are a necessary evil (leaning WAY more heavily towards the evil part of that description) when you live in a city without decent public transportation. And I despise focusing so much energy on something so materialistic, but when you've spent the last five years driving a car that you've been CONVINCED will be the cause of your death, it is impossible not to find yourself focusing on cars way more than you'd like.
My other car has been *the* biggest lemon I've ever come across, and it's been a source of stress for WAY too long now. You know it's bad when you spend the hour prior to having to drive somewhere all nervous and tense that your car won't make it and then spend your actual driving time praying under your breath that you won't die a horrible flamey death (which is even MORE ridiculous since you're an atheist)...
So, after the struts and gas gauge recently went on my heap of shit (the former causing my steering to slowly stop working on my way home on the freeway late one night), I bought a cute little yellow VW beetle for just the right price from a nice family nearby.
I've named her Butter (at least for the time being), and I can't decide if this is a GOOD name for the car of a vegan or the absolute wrong choice. But c'est la vie.
Unfortunately, the added stress of the moment is that one of the front tires makes loud cracky noises when I hit bumps. And given my track record (my tie rod went out on my other car WHILE I was on the freeway--you can read about all my joyous Purple Murple experiences HERE), for obvious reasons, I'm a bit concerned. I'm hoping it is just a wee bit of nothing. I feel like I *deserve* it to be a wee bit of nothing, given my horrendous track record with my previous car. Call it karma (though My Name is Earl has tainted that term), but I FRICKING DESERVE A CAR THAT I DON'T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT ALREADY, OH GREAT GODS AND GODDESSES! So for the moment, I'm a bit worrisome about *this*.
And then, on top of it, my landlord is selling our property, which makes me a tad bit nervous about potential increased rent when it comes under new ownership. But I'm not even worrying about that for the time being. What is stressing me out with regard to *this* is that they keep having to come show my apartment. Which would be fine if they'd do it on days that I'm home. But they don't. And I worry that (given the fact that they're a WEE bit worthy of riding the shortbus) they're gonna accidentally keep the doors open and the cats will escape. And above and beyond that, today it's supposed to be 88 here. Which means my apartment is gonna be the equivalent of the hot steamy bowels of hell, temperature-wise. Which means I've set the A/C up in the kitchen for the cats. But the problem is, whenever unidentifiable people come over, the cats run upstairs, into the hottest part of the house, and stay there for lengthy periods of time. So yet another worry is that they're gonna overheat. Needless to say, I hate expressing all these concerns to my apartment manager, because it is hard to miss the giant neon light that starts blinking over her head that says "Crazy cat lady" and has an arrow pointing straight at me.
Oh man.
Seriously.
I need someone to come over and just bake me lots of cookies and cook me the sexiest dinner possible and rub my feet and pee on me (ok, not that last part, weirdos) and pet my head and dance party with me in my living room and drinks lots of beer.
How 'bout it?
You game?
Fah. "But I live in the U.K., Lindy Loo!" As though that's a legitimate excuse.
I guess I'll just have to try to hypnotize myself with some cat pics and tasty food pics from Nature's Bin deli instead, and hopefully *that* will ease my stress a bit.
Ah, much better.
This is one of those weeks.
I've had an added workload dumped on me at work, and I feel like I'm in this corporate state of hyper-consciousness (almost like meditation, but a bad evil kind) where I feel almost limnal and robotic and as though I am getting my shit done and in a trance-state or something. And it's motherf-ing lame. *Talking like a corporate robot--beep boop beep boop*
I also just bought a new car this week. And by "new car" I mean "a used car that isn't about to implode on itself." I hate hate hate cars. But unfortunately they are a necessary evil (leaning WAY more heavily towards the evil part of that description) when you live in a city without decent public transportation. And I despise focusing so much energy on something so materialistic, but when you've spent the last five years driving a car that you've been CONVINCED will be the cause of your death, it is impossible not to find yourself focusing on cars way more than you'd like.
My other car has been *the* biggest lemon I've ever come across, and it's been a source of stress for WAY too long now. You know it's bad when you spend the hour prior to having to drive somewhere all nervous and tense that your car won't make it and then spend your actual driving time praying under your breath that you won't die a horrible flamey death (which is even MORE ridiculous since you're an atheist)...
So, after the struts and gas gauge recently went on my heap of shit (the former causing my steering to slowly stop working on my way home on the freeway late one night), I bought a cute little yellow VW beetle for just the right price from a nice family nearby.
I've named her Butter (at least for the time being), and I can't decide if this is a GOOD name for the car of a vegan or the absolute wrong choice. But c'est la vie.
Unfortunately, the added stress of the moment is that one of the front tires makes loud cracky noises when I hit bumps. And given my track record (my tie rod went out on my other car WHILE I was on the freeway--you can read about all my joyous Purple Murple experiences HERE), for obvious reasons, I'm a bit concerned. I'm hoping it is just a wee bit of nothing. I feel like I *deserve* it to be a wee bit of nothing, given my horrendous track record with my previous car. Call it karma (though My Name is Earl has tainted that term), but I FRICKING DESERVE A CAR THAT I DON'T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT ALREADY, OH GREAT GODS AND GODDESSES! So for the moment, I'm a bit worrisome about *this*.
And then, on top of it, my landlord is selling our property, which makes me a tad bit nervous about potential increased rent when it comes under new ownership. But I'm not even worrying about that for the time being. What is stressing me out with regard to *this* is that they keep having to come show my apartment. Which would be fine if they'd do it on days that I'm home. But they don't. And I worry that (given the fact that they're a WEE bit worthy of riding the shortbus) they're gonna accidentally keep the doors open and the cats will escape. And above and beyond that, today it's supposed to be 88 here. Which means my apartment is gonna be the equivalent of the hot steamy bowels of hell, temperature-wise. Which means I've set the A/C up in the kitchen for the cats. But the problem is, whenever unidentifiable people come over, the cats run upstairs, into the hottest part of the house, and stay there for lengthy periods of time. So yet another worry is that they're gonna overheat. Needless to say, I hate expressing all these concerns to my apartment manager, because it is hard to miss the giant neon light that starts blinking over her head that says "Crazy cat lady" and has an arrow pointing straight at me.
Oh man.
Seriously.
I need someone to come over and just bake me lots of cookies and cook me the sexiest dinner possible and rub my feet and pee on me (ok, not that last part, weirdos) and pet my head and dance party with me in my living room and drinks lots of beer.
How 'bout it?
You game?
Fah. "But I live in the U.K., Lindy Loo!" As though that's a legitimate excuse.
I guess I'll just have to try to hypnotize myself with some cat pics and tasty food pics from Nature's Bin deli instead, and hopefully *that* will ease my stress a bit.
Ah, much better.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
VeganYumYum's Cappellini in Fresh Tomato Cream Sauce
This weekend was pasta-gorging weekend. I just couldn't get enough it. I ate it for like 4 meals. I made some for the week. I bathed in some, rubbed some of it all over my hairy 'pits. I even formed some into the shape of a puppy and named it Rover and then took it for a walk. THAT'S the kind of pasta-y weekend it was.
One of the pasta dishes I made was VeganYumYum's Capellini in Fresh Tomato Cream Sauce which was *delectable*. I made a double-batch of it, and for some reason didn't have any of the clumping issues she mentioned. The sauce was nice and thin, the way I like my sauce (and my ladies--ok, not really; I like 'em big and brilliant). And it was really a cinch to whip up.
I ended up serving mine with a little bit of chopped tomato and voulez-voused basil on top. And motherf-ing-A did I enjoy it.
Make some this weekend, pack a bit of it into your panties (or boxers), and see if *you* don't find yourself in ecstasy as well...
INGREDIENTS:
- 8 Small Tomatoes, quartered
- 1 t. Salt
- 1 t. Italian Herbs of your choice
- 6 T. Tofutti Better Than Cream Cheese
- 2 T. Earth Balance
- 2 T. Nutritional Yeast
- 6 Cloves Garlic, optional
DIRECTIONS
Cook up your spaghetts, cappellini, angel hair, whatever noodle you choose. Drain, and set aside.
Whiz your tomatoes around in your blender until it becomes as smooth as it’s going to get. Add remaining ingredients and blend again until well combined. Add mixture to a skillet over medium heat. Once you start to see it bubble, you’re going to have to stir it fairly constantly so it doesn’t burn.
Cook it until the tomatoes lose their raw taste, which shouldn’t take too long, about 10 minutes.
Add pasta directly to the sauce, right in the skillet there on the stove. Mix well and serve immediately topped with lots of freshly cracked black pepper (or basil and diced tomatoes).
If this dish sits after the sauce is added, it’ll clump up a bit. It’ll still be tasty, but the noodles will stick together. It’s best if you time it so you can serve it immediately. That should be pretty easy to do since the pasta cooks so quickly–just have it be the last part of your meal that you prepare.
(Original recipe from VeganYumYum)
Monday, August 20, 2007
Strawberry Asparagus Salad
I cooked for my friend Mo this weekend, a fierce feast of asparagus and pasta.
This asparagus dish is based off of a recipe from this vegetarian fusiony cookbook I have at home (whose name is eluding me right now), and it's one that I've always drooled over (since it sounds so unusual) but never got around to making. However, since I have a fiendish hatred of buying ingredients that I'll never use again, which just seems so wasteful (in this case, strawberry vinegar), I made a few alterations to the original recipe.
The end result was surprisingly scrumptious. I suppose I shouldn't be shocked that strawberries and asparagus taste so good together, but I am. I AM!
INGREDIENTS:
- 1 lb. fresh asparagus
- 1 pint fresh strawberries
- 1 T. vegetable oil
- 6 T. apple cider vinegar
- 2 T. water
- Sugar
DIRECTIONS
Fill a smaller-size sauce pan with cold water, a pinch or two of sugar, and 5 T. apple cider vinegar. Bring to a boil. Add asparagus and cook until just tender.
Drain asparagus and place in a bowl. Drizzle 1 T. veggie oil, 1 T. apple cider vinegar, and 2 T. water over the asparagus and mix it up a bit. Let it sit in this marinade while you fiddle with your strawberries.
Take 7 of your not-quite-so-attractive strawberries and set them aside. Slice up your remaining strawberries into quarters. Place them in a bowl, and sprinkle a t. or so of sugar on them to draw out the juices.
Cut off the tops of your 7 strawberries and toss into a food processer. Blend until smooth.
After your asparagus has marinated for about 30 minutes or so, add your strawberries and mix around. Serve topped with some of your strawberry dressing.
Makes about 2 salads.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
In Loo...
In lieu of a recipe today, I present you with my list of
Weird Food Habits.
Enjoy.
Weird Food Habits.
Enjoy.
- I salt my ketchup. DO NOT EVEN YELL AT ME. I know ketchup is already packed with salt. But salting pre-salted condiments is weirdly fun and tasty.
- I use excessive condiments--when I use a condiment on anything, I tend to soak that item with the condiment. It is a bad habit since it masks the taste of the food, but I blame my father for being a ketchup nazi and only allowing us limited amounts of ketchup when we were little. I also blame Santa. Just because.
- I still get a bit grossed out when I'm eating something that has a giant, woody-type spice in it (like rosemary). It just feels like someone walked into the middle of your food and rudely interrupted it or something.
- I really like the juice of the orange (or grapefruit), but I cannot stand the sausage-like encasement that each orange/grapefruit chunk is wrapped in. Therefore, when I eat either, I mostly just suck out the juice and leave the saggy pulpy remnants.
- I still have a hard time just scooping into a jar of store-bought salsa because there are so many weird indefinable ingredients in there that it freaks me out.
- I don't mind squash or zucchini, but I would never go out of my way to eat either or prepare a dish just BECAUSE it has squash or zucchini in it. They both kind of remind me of chest hair--if it's there, cool, I'll deal and enjoy it. But if it ain't, no big loss. If it's patchy in the shape of Burt Reynold's face, however, THEN we might have to sit down and have a talk.
- I am not real enthusiastic about the apple, but I rarely admit this as it's gotten me into trouble in the past.
- I hate the pineapple.
- I find rice boring for the most part. Unless someone else cooks it for me. Then I'm cool with it.
- I prefer canned corn over frozen, even though that's the #1 thing people hate about me.
- If I have to cut up and gut a pumpkin, I have to wash my hands like every two minutes because the clingy pumpkin goop is so sticky (and yet sorta cool) that it grosses me out (and yet I find it sorta cool). I also hate the consistency of cooked pumpkin.
- I have a peanut butter addiction. I kicked the habit a while back and was doing good for a while. And then a dealer moved in next door, and I'd see people coming and going all the time with little jars of peanut butter stashed in their sock or their anus. And I just couldn't control myself.
- I really really enjoy eating cereal late at night with a very large spoon.
- I find it weirdly disgusting when I'm eating store-bought salsa or pasta sauce and come across a piece of tomato skin that is kinda rolled up and elongated so it looks like a splinter. I usually pick those out. After scrunching up my face with disgust. I know it's just a tomato-skin, but sweet jesus.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Metaphysical Quandary Green Bean Salad
I realized today that perhaps the existence of this green bean salad should send fear exploding through the hearts of humankind, since it is its own metaphysical quandary, containing both garlic and mint, and by doing so, stinking up **and** freshening one's breath *simultaneously* WHICH CAN LEAD TO NO GOOD AND WILL NO DOUBT CAUSE A RIP IN THE SPACE-TIME CONTINUUM WHICH MEANS WE WILL ALL DIE SO IN TRANSLATION: THE EXISTENCE OF THIS GREEN BEAN SALAD MEANS *DEATH*!
*ducking as the FBI come running into my office and conviscate it*
Enjoy.
(I made a half-batch of this, but I include the whole recipe. Just because. So neh.)
INGREDIENTS:
- 2 T. chopped walnuts
- 1 c. packed fresh mint leaves
- 1/2 c. packed fresh parsley leaves
- 1/3 c. olive oil
- 1 T. chopped fresh ginger
- 1 T. fresh lemon juice
- 1 clove garlic, minced (about 1 tsp.)
- 1/4 t. sugar
- 1/2 t. salt
- 1 1/4 lb. new potatoes, scrubbed and halved
- 1 lb. green beans, or 1/2 lb. green beans and 1/2 lb. wax beans, trimmed
DIRECTIONS
Toast walnuts in small skillet 4 to 5 minutes over medium heat, or until nuts are fragrant, shaking pan frequently. Cool.
Purée walnuts, mint, parsley, oil, ginger, lemon juice, garlic, sugar and salt in food processor or blender until smooth, stopping to scrape down sides of bowl once or twice. Transfer to bowl. Press plastic wrap onto surface of pesto to keep from turning brown, and let stand at room temperature for 1/2 hour, or up to 3 hours.
Bring large pot of salted water to a boil. Add potatoes and cook 8 minutes. Add beans, and simmer 4 to 5 minutes more, or until vegetables are tender. Drain.
Transfer vegetables to large bowl, and toss with pesto. Serve warm or at room temperature.
(Original recipe from the Vegetarian Times)
And for the dazzling non-penis-toting lady-lovahs that I shamefully overlooked yesterday, my A-list of bad-ass female hotties:
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
The Incredible Spreadable "Meat"loaf
So I made this meatloaf recipe like a month ago, and I keep avoiding posting it since the pictures I took of it are SO fricking hideous.
So in order to distract you from their hideousness, I post a couple f-ing hot pictures. *DISTRACT DISTRACT*
And here's one for all you penis-toters out there, because we wouldn't wanna forget about you!
Psych.
Anyways, this recipe is WICKED flavorful. The only problem is that it is also wicked crumbly. However, I will give it the benefit of the doubt and say that perhaps it is a) because my measurements were slightly off or something (You?!? With incorrect measurements, Lindy Loo?!?! I THINK NOT!) or b) because I used a silicon bread-pan.
Nonetheless, MAN ALIVE was this a yummy meatloaf. I ended up just sorta spreading it on shit (bread, oatmeal, Theresa's inner thigh--OH SNAP!!) and eating it that way, kind of like a meatloaf pate or something. So I *do* recommend, despite the hideous pictures...
*DISTRACTING YOU ONCE MORE*
(If I hear even *one* word about how The Strokes
are not hot at all--which I hear *all* the
fricking time--I shall promptly banish you
all from my blog! They are pretty, and if I
were into vegan cannibalism, I would eat them.)
INGREDIENTS:
- 1/4 c. walnuts
- 2 stalks celery, finely chopped (about 1 c.)
- 1/2 medium onion, finely chopped (about 3/4 c.)
- 2 green onions, thinly sliced (about 1/3 c.)
- 2 cloves garlic, minced (about 2 t.)
- 1 10-oz. pkg. firm tofu, drained
- 1 12-oz. pkg. soy crumbles
- 1 1/4 c. quick-cooking oats
- 3 T. low-sodium soy sauce (or regular if you like heart attacks)
- 2 T. ketchup, plus additional 2 T. for topping
- 1 T. Dijon mustard
- 2 t. dried parsley or 2 T. chopped fresh parsley
- 1 t. poultry seasoning
DIRECTIONS
Preheat oven to 350F. Grind walnuts to powder in food processor. Set aside. Coat medium skillet with cooking spray and place over medium heat. Add celery, onion, green onions and garlic, and sauté 4 to 5 minutes, or until vegetables are tender. Remove from heat, and cool.
Mash tofu in bowl. Stir in walnuts, vegetables, soy crumbles, oats, soy sauce, ketchup, mustard, parsley and poultry seasoning. Season with salt and pepper.
Coat 9x5-inch loaf pan with cooking spray and spoon mixture into pan, lightly packing in. Spread thin layer of ketchup over top of loaf, and bake 55 to 60 minutes, or until toothpick inserted in center comes out clean. Cool, then wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate until ready to slice for sandwiches.
(Recipe from the Vegetarian Times)
Monday, August 13, 2007
Backyard Barbecue Chili
I made chili yesterday (more specifically, the "Backyard Barbecue Chili" from the Vegan Planet cookbook. Because it was 89 degrees, and it is always best to have chili when it is hot and humid.
*FTTTTP*
Actually, I made it because I couldn't really think of anything else to make, and it boasted that it was a kind of "backyard barbecue-ish" chili, which reads "summer" in my book.
And barbecuesque it was--essentially it was a basic chili recipe that was spiced up by a 1/2 cup of barbecue sauce. I'm a big fan of chilis (which is funny because I absolutely HATED them when I was little--I'd cry whenever my mom made chili for dinner because I knew I'd be forced to sit at the kitchen table until I finished off all of the kidney beans). And I'm a big fan of fast-and-easy (giggle) chilis, like the Salsa Chili my friend Kristen introduced me to. What's so funny and cool about these two chilis is that all it takes is one minor alteration (a different choice of BBQ sauces or salsa) and you have a totally different chili. And that, my friends, is supah-fly.
For yesterday's version, I used the Bull's Eye Hickory Smoked BBQ sauce (which is apparently vegan)... It's not so much a spicy BBQ sauce (which the recipe called for), but it was the only brand I knew off the top of my head to be vegan. And the end result was a sweet and smoky chili, one that I ate yesterday in a couple burrito-shells, and one which would make for a delightfully good (albeit sloppy) sloppy joe sandwich.
However, since this recipe is from a cookbook, I shan't post it here.
Instead I will post a list of the similarities and differences between myself and the aforementioned chili, as represented by those circle-things that always show up on SATs and GREs.
Thursday, August 09, 2007
Barbie Strikes Back (Not Once, but Twice)
So last week I decided I was gonna try inventing a couscousy, grapefruity recipe. And early on, when I realized how delightfully (and obnoxiously) pink and cute and perky it was gonna end up being because of the grapefruit, I decided I would name it something having to do with Barbie. And then I decided I would spend time making fun of Barbie when I eventually ended up blogging about it. Like I'd talk about how my couscous dish and Barbie were similar in that neither of them a) have nipples, b) have labiatic lady-parts, c) have brains, d) have bendable extremities, and e) have body-proportions even REMOTELY akin to the average woman.
So needless to say, the dish ended up being ABSOLUTELY nasty. What was intended to be a recipe that included couscous, soy yogurt, almonds, carrots, grapefruit, and mint turned into a rather chilling disaster (think "Drunken Ken Driving the Wrong Way Down the Barbie Freeway and Hitting Skipper's Pink Corvette Head-on"). The couscous cooked up like mush for no apparent reason, and I finally came to the realization that I do *not* like O'Soy vanilla soy yogurt (but only after having mixed it in with the rest of the dish)--even just the smell makes me want to curl up under a kitchen sink and die. And when I started blogging about the nastiness of this recipe yesterday and then saved what I'd started, THE ENTRY PROMPTLY VANISHED NEVER TO BE SEEN AGAIN!
Apparently Barbie's fiendish mind-control abilities are an even MORE pervasive problem than I'd previously thought. I had assumed that her evil powers were only directed towards the brainwashing of young girls, when in reality, she is apparently a master food-saboteur and computer hacker as well.
Barbie, I underestimated you.
But do not think this is over. Oh no. I will destroy you.
But not before seducing Ken first.
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Late Summer Succotash
So to hell with E and maudlin moments of wistfulness and nostalgia... Back to food! ; )
Like the dirty blankie calling to comfort me, like that bottle of beer at the back of the fridge with my name on it, like that crack pipe hidden in a loose brick in my wall, who else could I turn to in my hour of need but the Vegetarian Times?
And what better recipe to use than one that just makes me quiver and tingle and shoot laser beams from my eyes all because the only reason it is not marked as vegan is... *seriously: hold on to your pooters and manjunk and any loose marbles in your pockets*... it has 1 T. of butter in the ingredient list. That's it.
Oh hell yes, VT--smack my ass and call me Sally, that's how infuriated I get with you sometimes. ONE TABLESPOON OF BUTTER, which of course can easily be substituted for non-hydrogenated vegan margarine with absolutely *no* decline in taste. *gasps of shock, horror, dismay, orgasm* In fact, I just left it out entirely (I tend to half the amount of oils/butters that VT calls for as a lot of their dishes are a bit oily for my taste). And as I'm sure you've probably already guessed, the dish was nonetheless absolutely delicious, despite the veganizing of the recipe.
And although the VT really deserves to get roughed up a bit, this may be one of my favorite recent VT recipes. It is so fast and easy that it will blow your mind ("That's what she said!"). And it has this *MIND-BLOWINGLY* delicate flavor to it that just makes you want to melt all over the seat you're sitting in. It is *absurdly* simplistic in its choice of herbs and dressing (just fresh basil and parsley with a bit of drizzled apple cider vinegar), but its simplicity brings out the powerful punch of all the veggies within. *AND* this recipe finally clarified what the hell "sauteeing" is to me. Make fun all you want, but I always just sort of thought "sauteeing" was just a fancy-people word for "cooking shit in a pan." BUT NO! Sauteeing means that you cook food in a skillet over medium-high to high heat WHILE KEEPING THE FOOD IN CONSTANT MOTION so that your veggies crisp up without sogging and also caramelize into those perfectly crisp, delicate little veggies that make your heartstrings purr.
That is the scientific definition of "sautee."
So yeah, check this recipe out. It'll seriously take you like 15 minutes to whip up, it's that simple. And it's *SO* good.
Oh, and the VT apparently thinks that this recipe makes enough for 6, but I'm thinking you'll be lucky if you get 3 servings out of it (if you're eating it for lunch and not as a side), so be forewarned.
INGREDIENTS:
- One 10-oz. pkg frozen baby lima beans, thawed
- 1 T. olive oil (or 1 T. vegan margarine + 1 t. olive oil)
- 1 small red onion, diced (1 c.)
- 1 clove garlic, minced
- 1 c. corn
- 1 c. cherry or grape tomatoes, halved
- 2 T. chopped fresh parsley
- 2 T. chopped fresh basil
- 1 T. apple cider vinegar (or white balsamic vinegar)
DIRECTIONS
Heat oil in large skillet over medium-high heat. Add onion, and sautee 5-7 minutes or until it begins to brown. Add garlic and cook one minute more.
Stir in lima beans and sautee 5 minutes. Add corn and tomatoes and sautee one minute more, or until heated through, but tomatoes have not released their juices. Remove from heat and stir in parsley, basil, and vinegar. Serve warm or chilled.
(adapted from p. 70 of the Sept. 2007 Vegetarian Times)
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
Belly-Shirts and Pushbuttons
So this weekend was E's big moving day.
The boy is wickedly brilliant, and he's off to get his PhD. Unfortunately he is doing so three hours a way from yours truly and smack dab in Middle-of-Nowhere, PA.
Which leads me to ask:
How do you know you're in the middle of rural Pennsylvania?
When a guy with the physique of Barney from The Simpsons is standing in line at Walmart in a crop-top Steelers shirt (which just BARELY covers his man-boobs) and a pair of flip-flops, and no one is batting an eyelash.
How else do you know you're in the middle of rural PA? When your apartment's stove actually has PUSH-buttons on it to control the burners. Tee hee. Like the kind of buttons you find on an old 1970s blender, or the radio of a 1957 chevy, those buttons that for some reason when you're 7 years old, you just LOVE to find reasons to press because they just feel so weird and cool against your fingertips.
[E's pushbutton stove]
And yes, I know all you chefly people out there are going, OH NO! ELECTRIC PUSH-BUTTON BURNERS GIVE YOU NO CONTROL OVER THE SUBTLE VARIATIONS IN HEAT! And no, they probably don't. But I must say, they sure as hell cooked up a perfectly-colored pancake--ones that were, in fact, better than those cooked on *my* stove. And WHO THE HELL CARES REALLY WHEN YOU GET TO PRESS BUTTONS THAT MAKE YOU FEEL LIKE YOU'RE TUNING AN OLD RADIO!
But anyways, what does all this have to do with food? Well, clearly the image of the sweet-ass crop-top Steelers guy was intended to get your mouth all salivating as you imagined squirting foofy vegan whipped-cream all over his body and then licking it off... Slowly... Ever so slowly. <---Food-related.
But more importantly, it's food-related because it marks the temporary absence of my food buddy, my E, my most favorite person in the world to cook for.
While we were whipping up a stirfry on Sunday night (and then when we found ourselves stuffed in his kitchen again, flipping pancakes Monday morning), it dawned on me that it was going to be one of the last times we'd be sharing a home-cooked meal with one another for a long time.
I mean, E and I have spent the last year or two taking turns cooking nearly every single weekend. I'm sure you've noticed many of his recipes scattered throughout my food-blog. And whenever I've made some *absolutely* fantastic random dish for lunches for the week, I'd inevitably pack up a bit into a container and bring it in to share with E for lunch. And occasionally when E whipped up a particularly fantastic stirfry for himself, he'd save a little nibblin' of it for me to try out for lunch as well.
So although I am *so* very happy for him, so very proud of him, and so very envious and excited for him to get to feed that voracious and brilliant brain of his...
I'm gonna miss him.
I'm gonna miss standing in my kitchen, dicing up vegetables while he watches Seinfeld in the other room. I'm gonna miss playing with Ms. Rubes (his cat) while he sets off the fire-alarm in his apartment with a stirfry he's grilling up. I'm gonna miss sitting down next to him and sharing a nice, warm, home-cooked meal.
So to him I say:
WAY TO SUCK, PHD-BOY! =)
Now please join me in getting back at him for moving 3 hours away, by repeating the following, in unison, after me:
"Now that you are three hours away from your girl..."
[Now that you are three hours away from your girl...]
"We are all driving up to the city..."
[We are all driving up to the city...]
"To shag her foxy-assed brains out..."
[To shag her foxy-assed brains out...]
"(One at a time, of course...)"
[(One at a time, of course...)]
"(Otherwise that might get a bit too cluttered...)"
[(Otherwise that might get a bit too cluttered...)]
"(And a little bit confusing...)"
[(And a little bit confusing...)]
"And there's *nothing you can do about it*..."
[And there's *nothing you can do about it*...]
"Except to make a three-hour trip to come kick our asses..."
[Except to make a three-hour trip to come kick our asses...]
"And since it'll be 300 against 1..."
[And since it'll be 300 against 1...]
"And you're one of those pansy-assed vegans..."
[And you're one of those pansy-assed vegans...]
"We wish you the best of luck with that."
[We wish you the best of luck with that.]
"Amen."
[Amen.]
The boy is wickedly brilliant, and he's off to get his PhD. Unfortunately he is doing so three hours a way from yours truly and smack dab in Middle-of-Nowhere, PA.
Which leads me to ask:
How do you know you're in the middle of rural Pennsylvania?
When a guy with the physique of Barney from The Simpsons is standing in line at Walmart in a crop-top Steelers shirt (which just BARELY covers his man-boobs) and a pair of flip-flops, and no one is batting an eyelash.
How else do you know you're in the middle of rural PA? When your apartment's stove actually has PUSH-buttons on it to control the burners. Tee hee. Like the kind of buttons you find on an old 1970s blender, or the radio of a 1957 chevy, those buttons that for some reason when you're 7 years old, you just LOVE to find reasons to press because they just feel so weird and cool against your fingertips.
And yes, I know all you chefly people out there are going, OH NO! ELECTRIC PUSH-BUTTON BURNERS GIVE YOU NO CONTROL OVER THE SUBTLE VARIATIONS IN HEAT! And no, they probably don't. But I must say, they sure as hell cooked up a perfectly-colored pancake--ones that were, in fact, better than those cooked on *my* stove. And WHO THE HELL CARES REALLY WHEN YOU GET TO PRESS BUTTONS THAT MAKE YOU FEEL LIKE YOU'RE TUNING AN OLD RADIO!
But anyways, what does all this have to do with food? Well, clearly the image of the sweet-ass crop-top Steelers guy was intended to get your mouth all salivating as you imagined squirting foofy vegan whipped-cream all over his body and then licking it off... Slowly... Ever so slowly. <---Food-related.
But more importantly, it's food-related because it marks the temporary absence of my food buddy, my E, my most favorite person in the world to cook for.
While we were whipping up a stirfry on Sunday night (and then when we found ourselves stuffed in his kitchen again, flipping pancakes Monday morning), it dawned on me that it was going to be one of the last times we'd be sharing a home-cooked meal with one another for a long time.
I mean, E and I have spent the last year or two taking turns cooking nearly every single weekend. I'm sure you've noticed many of his recipes scattered throughout my food-blog. And whenever I've made some *absolutely* fantastic random dish for lunches for the week, I'd inevitably pack up a bit into a container and bring it in to share with E for lunch. And occasionally when E whipped up a particularly fantastic stirfry for himself, he'd save a little nibblin' of it for me to try out for lunch as well.
So although I am *so* very happy for him, so very proud of him, and so very envious and excited for him to get to feed that voracious and brilliant brain of his...
I'm gonna miss him.
I'm gonna miss standing in my kitchen, dicing up vegetables while he watches Seinfeld in the other room. I'm gonna miss playing with Ms. Rubes (his cat) while he sets off the fire-alarm in his apartment with a stirfry he's grilling up. I'm gonna miss sitting down next to him and sharing a nice, warm, home-cooked meal.
So to him I say:
WAY TO SUCK, PHD-BOY! =)
Now please join me in getting back at him for moving 3 hours away, by repeating the following, in unison, after me:
"Now that you are three hours away from your girl..."
[Now that you are three hours away from your girl...]
"We are all driving up to the city..."
[We are all driving up to the city...]
"To shag her foxy-assed brains out..."
[To shag her foxy-assed brains out...]
"(One at a time, of course...)"
[(One at a time, of course...)]
"(Otherwise that might get a bit too cluttered...)"
[(Otherwise that might get a bit too cluttered...)]
"(And a little bit confusing...)"
[(And a little bit confusing...)]
"And there's *nothing you can do about it*..."
[And there's *nothing you can do about it*...]
"Except to make a three-hour trip to come kick our asses..."
[Except to make a three-hour trip to come kick our asses...]
"And since it'll be 300 against 1..."
[And since it'll be 300 against 1...]
"And you're one of those pansy-assed vegans..."
[And you're one of those pansy-assed vegans...]
"We wish you the best of luck with that."
[We wish you the best of luck with that.]
"Amen."
[Amen.]
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
This is the End...
(Such a hottie he was--*sigh*
I need to write me up a dead-people harem or something)
Though I am very pleased to have the increased traffic, I am sad to say that getting a spot on Blog of Note has effectively killed off future editions of "The Most Bizarre Google Searches By Which People Stumble Across This Blog."
*TEAR*
Let us hope that a few months from now, site-traffic will calm down some, and Google Searches will rise back up from the dead, kinda crusty and stank, lurching around with some fresh new "orange oily feces" searches, or maybe, just maybe, one for "onion taste nipple."
Until then, I bring to you...
THE FINAL EDITION OF
***THE MOST BIZARRE GOOGLE SEARCHES BY WHICH PEOPLE STUMBLE ACROSS THIS BLOG!***
*cuing soldiers in uniform playing taps*
- laurens shit
- veggie burger recipe sunflower seeds where money
[I like this one because it seems like the google search is being all nice and whistling and friendly and then suddenly whips out a gun and demands that I hand over all my cash] - orange looking greasy feces from taking alli
- shit cake picture
- vegetarian poo weird
- sweet potato queens cat shit cookies
- quinoa poo
- blue shit
- onion taste nipple
[YUM! *blorf*] - half assed vegan
- shit pads paper
- lovers of shit
- vegan freaks annoying
- nipple pinching pics
- potatoes sex
- what does bat feces smell like
[Lindy Loo's answer: like feces] - eat poo shit pics
- vegans smell
[except if we have anosmia, my friend--case in point, my buddy PTB--shout out to the PTB!] - olives in feces
- peppers shit yeah
[I appreciate your enthusiasm--I sure do like me some peppers too] - sexy black bean
- shit lovers
- picture of bear feces
- numblies
- bizarre eat shit
- carrots orange poop
- shit pasta
- shite an onions recepe
- gnocchi is sticky
- orange poo blog
[hee hee--be still my heart]