Health

I work from home. Sometimes this is a bad thing as it can lead to an inordinate number of days spent in general dishabille, aka slovenliness. Not to mention the pancake-ass that develops from endless sitting in my writing chair, sheepskin cover or no. But there's also the delight of taking my laptop to the couch, in front of a crackling fire; the joy of never having to speak to another human (UPS man notwithstanding); and the mixed blessing of being able to make myself lunch. Every. Single. Day. Even when I don't feel like cooking (because we all know that cooking for one can be a real bore), I just rustle around in the fridge and the cupboards, scouring for whatever strikes my fancy. Canned salmon? Maybe. Quesadilla? Occasionally. Soba noodles. OK. But most often—especially these veg-centric days—some configuration of lettuces and seeds and pickles that is entirely dependent on appetite, availability and inspiration. So this post is less a recipe than an invitation to paint with a palette of greens, as I did with the plate of arugula, spiced pumpkin seeds and ricotta salata (left over from this carrot salad), simply tossed with lemon juice and olive oil (pictured above).
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Vegetables are in the zeitgeist. Pro-vegetable articles are popping up all over, like this one and this one. It seems like some people—a vocal minority?—are really starting to embrace Michael Pollan's edict to "Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants." Actually, I'm not so sure about the "not too much" part. We Americans are all about plenty; a surfeit, even. But look, a ton o' vegetables is still a whole lot healthier than a ton o' beef. And I think I'll just take this opportunity to say once more, and probably not for the last time, I loathe the non-word "veggies." As if somehow you're going to make them what, more palatable? more cute? more friendly? Please. Just do me the great favor of honoring them with their lovely and true name: vegetable. Anyhoo. Eating lots of vegetables is always pretty easy during the warm months, when fresh tomatoes and corn and summer squash and lettuces and herbs are so plentiful, but what about now, as the farmers markets begin to dwindle down to a more paltry selection of onions, squash and the like? I feel a teensy bit smug knowing that my freezer is stocked with bags of local blackberries, freshly shucked corn and homemade tomato sauce. We can easily pop into the grocery store for hydroponic greens and grapes from Chile, but I urge you not to abandon seasonal eating quite so readily. Look again: local cabbage, celeriac, sweet potatoes, leeks, carrots, rutabagas, garlic, kale, collards, beets, turnips. And of course, there are always dried grains and legumes like lentils, chickpeas, barley, wild rice, buckwheat groats (kasha, to you Jews out there), farro, quinoa, brown rice, polenta and all manner of pasta. As well as a slew of nuts, seeds and dried fruits and spices to zhush it all up. The reality is, once you stop thinking of animal protein as the center of every meal, a whole gorgeous world of possibility crops (no pun intended) up.
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Ever since I ate the carrot-and-avocado salad at ABC Kitchen, Jean-Georges Vongerichten's new Manhattan bastion of "farm-to-table" cuisine, I've rekindled my passion for this most common root vegetable. Fear not, I will soon be posting my interpretation of this salad, which involves coating the carrots in a light film of cumin, chile and lemon juice before roasting them to tender perfection. It's truly extraordinary how they become almost meaty. But this is about another carrot salad. It's not wholly unlike the one you'll be presented with at virtually every meal in Morocco, though that tends to be sweeter, more cumin-intensive and full of raisins. This carrot salad is bright with mint and cilantro and spiked with harissa, a wonderfully complex North African spice paste you can find in specialty grocers or online. Or you can whip up a batch yourself; it keeps for ages in the fridge. Either way, the point it to make this salad soon as it will become a new favorite.
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On a blustery day in the city, I used to love to pop into the tiny bakery at Balthazar where fresh breads and piles of scones and canelés fogged up the windows. Passing up all the baked goods, I would come out with my frozen hands wrapped around a steaming cup of their housemade ginger-citrus tea. Often, it would be so acidic that my teeth would squeak against each other, but I loved the way its spicy sweetness warmed my blood. Now that I don't live near Balthazar—or anything resembling a bakery, or even a café for that matter—I have devised my own recipe and, being rather better balanced, I actually prefer it. That said, I was able to procure Balthazar's recipe and so also offer that to you here. Frankly, I've never tasted either cinnamon or mint in their version, and so did not include that in mine. Suffice it to say, either way this delectable brew is sure to help you ward off a chill and possibly even the flu as we head into winter's cold embrace.
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Although nori was originally a more generic word in Japanese, referring to a variety of seaweed types, it now refers only to the red alga Porphyra, sometimes known as laver. Nori is produced through a highly advanced form of agriculture, grown attached to nets suspended at the sea surface. It is processed in a method very similar to what was used for making paper in Japan, and the final product is a translucent, greenish-black dried sheet that's about 7"x8". As with most things Japanese, nori is available in several grades. At the high end is delicate shin-nori from the first of the year's several harvests, which can cost up to $50 per sheet. I buy the roasted yakishushi nori, which would be familiar to you from its use as a sushi wrap. It can also be toasted and flavored for use in other dishes or finely shredded and scattered on rice or stir fries. It is faintly saline with a distinctive marine flavor that is rich in umami. It toasts up quickly in the oven and, when brushed with a little sesame oil and sprinkled with sea salt and sesame seeds, it's crunchy and positively addictive. Oh, and virtually calorie-free.
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I woke up yesterday with an enormous zit on my chin. One of those under-the-skin whoppers that can really mess with your head—literally. Mine is practically tilted to one side. TMI? It was all because of a sudden influx of cheese into my life—starting with that truffled gratin at Eataly, followed by an aged gouda with cumin, then some extra sharp Sicilian pecorino and culminating with an unhealthy dose of cream cheese frosting while creating a birthday cake for the lovely Stephanie. Too much cheese—or dairy in general—inevitably leads to the dreaded blemish. It's my body's (humiliating and uncomfortable) way of letting me know it's had enough. I'm hoping that cutting out flour, sugar and dairy, while amping up the green juice and vegetables, will right my ship. Now, back to that cake. Stephanie has been losing weight by eating low-fat for the better part of a year, and weeks ago she put in her request for an appropriate carrot cake to be served at her birthday dinner. (The rest of the dinner featured this tasty bouillabaisse.) I was determined to bake something that lived up to my gold standard from the original Silver Palate cookbook, a divine confection made with corn oil, whole eggs, walnuts and coconut, and frosted with dreamy swirls of cream cheese-&-butter icing. Delicious, yes, but hardly low-fat. How then to replicate the rich texture and flavor without derailing my friend's diet?
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Woody Harrelson once traveled to the west coast on a hemp-oil-fueled biodiesel bus. It was the subject of a documentary, Go Further, that explores the idea of the individual as the key to large-scale transformational change. Also on the bus were a yoga teacher, a raw food chef and a hemp activist, among others. In case you didn’t know, these are Woody’s peeps. He has long been a vocal proponent of hemp, the soft, durable fiber that is cultivated from plants of a slightly different variety of cannabis than the one that gets you high. (He is also a proponent of that kind.) One of the earliest domesticated plants known, hemp is currently used for a great many commercial purposes, including paper, textiles, biodegradable plastics, food, fuel and medicine. I even use a hemp-based deodorant that is totally natural and quite effective.


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I met the impossibly dashing Albano through my friend Lisa when I visited her in Singapore several years ago. He's a dapper Australian designer of Italian extraction with impeccable taste in all things. Our friendship has been sustained mostly through Facebook, one of the very few reasons I can't be totally cynical about "social networking." He has been kind enough to share with me a couple of flawless recipes for what can best be described as tea cakes, those simple homey loaves you slice up and serve alongside a cup of something hot. Both of them allude ever-so-slightly to his Asian environs; one is made with kabocha squash, the other with Japanese sweet potato and seaweed. Toasted and buttered, with jam or just plain, a slice of these bread-like cakes hits the spot at breakfast, too.

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I'm definitely a food snob of sorts. I've been known to get all uppity about faux this and that, things masquerading as other things. Margarine. Tofurkey. Miracle Whip. Why bother? (In truth, I once loved Miracle Whip on a tomato sandwich.) But G's digestive issues have made me realize that substitutions are sometimes necessary. And while gluten-free bread may not be worth the bother, certain gluten-free foods are quite nice in their own right. Anyone who's had treats from Babycakes knows what I'm talking about. So it may not come as a total surprise when I tell you that this recipe for a decadent and velvety smooth chocolate mousse is—wait for it—vegan. That's right—no eggs and no cream. I was very skeptical the first time I made this. It's suspiciously easy, requiring absolutely no whipping at all. Various recipes for vegan chocolate mousse had been popping up online, some with avocado, others with coconut milk—I think I even remember one from Jean Georges! This is the one I arrived at after a bit of experimentation.
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I love pancakes on a Sunday morning. To me they mean long, lazy breakfasts with the paper in hand (maybe The Star) and many cups of tea (chai?), some great tunes playing in the background (Van Morrison). It's nice to improvise with what's around: bananas with walnuts; fresh blueberries; buckwheat and buttermilk. But always, always, warm maple syrup. It used to be I had to have melted butter, but now I often substitute virgin coconut oil. I love the subtle taste, and I'm always hoping that the lauric acid will be beneficial for G's digestive tract. (To read more about how coconut oil supports good health, go here.) Right now I have many different types of squash and pumpkin on hand, and I had cut up a big Cinderella pumpkin into quarters and roasted it so I could stock up on puree. I've now got a huge jar of the stuff in my fridge, and I see gnocchi and maybe soup and even a pumpkin cake in my future. But today it was pumpkin pancakes, light and fluffy, fragrant with ginger, cinnamon and nutmeg. The pumpkin adds a sweet richness and guarantees these will never be dry. With a crumble of buttery pecans mixed in and a drizzle of warm maple syrup, this is a breakfast of champions.
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