Last weekend, G & I drove down to Raleigh to watch some opera (Philip Glass’ Les Enfants Terribles), drink some drinks, and eat some fantastic food (more on that later). While there, we managed to swing by the North Carolina State Farmers Market–a 30,000 square foot farmers market run by the state of North Carolina. The compound, yes, I’ll call it that, was composed of several long warehouse buildings with open backs. For the winter, produce largely took up 3/4 of one of the buildings and another building was mostly full of more permanent vendors who sell cheeses, meats, anything that might need refrigeration or electricity. A seafood building stood on the far end of the area, but only one fisher was there with some shrimp and not much else. We were both simply amazed at the space and can’t wait to see it in its full summer glory.

Since it’s winter, the place wasn’t as hopping as it could be, but, to an outsider, it was mecca–rows upon rows of farmers selling greens and tomatoes and pecans and honey and eggs and pastured meats and even local wine. I had to seriously restrain myself from buying a little bit of everything in the place. While I do wish I’d bought a box or two of tomatoes to can, I stuck with buying things that I generally can’t find here during the winter: broccoli, cheap bags of spinach, bok choy, onions, strawberries. Yes, strawberries. Strawberries raised in a solar powered greenhouse. Amazing! (We’ll get back to those strawberries next week…)

The thing that I liked the most about the market, though, was that it wasn’t just a bunch of green hippies selling things–there were some, but the majority of farmers were older, family run farms. And I trusted the signs–”home grown,” “local,” even the couple of “organic” ones here and there. In Roanoke, some of the sellers at the downtown market just ship in produce from Florida and sell it under the guise of “local.” Here, you knew it was local, you knew it was fresh, and you knew it was well cared for. Honesty. Sometimes that’s all you need.

But what to cook with the loot? Since Monday, January 23, was Chinese New Years, and one of the Dark Days challenges was for a one pot meal, I figured I’d whip up some sort of Chinese-inspired stir fry. Not necessarily “one pot,” but pretty darn close (damn that rice needing its own pot). With the veggies I picked up at the market–broccoli, bok choy, scallions–and a sauce I concocted out of whatever I had available in the pantry, the finished dish was anything but authentic, but beautifully green and delicious. Sometimes there’s nothing like a simple stir fry to highlight fresh picked produce, and I think this one really shone given its simplicity: vegetables, sauce, rice. And what I’d give for something like the NC State Farmers Market near me–utter abundance even in the heart of winter!

Orange-ish Broccoli & Bok Choy Stir Fry

For the sauce:
2 tbsp Bragg’s Amino Acids
1/4 c orange marmalade
1/4 c orange juice
1/2 tsp Sriracha sauce (add more to taste)
1 tsp rice vinegar
1 tbsp Sherry
1 tsp sesame oil
2 tsp arrow root powder (or cornstarch)

For the stir fry:
2 tbsp coconut oil
4 heads bok choy, washed and leaves separated
2 heads broccoli, washed and chopped into florets
2-3 scallions, chopped into rounds
sesame seeds
2 c cooked rice

In a small mixing bowl, combine all sauce ingredients. Whisk to combine and adjust to taste (add more Sriracha for heat, orange juice for acidity, Bragg’s for salt and umami).

Meanwhile, in a wok over medium-high, add the melt the coconut oil. Add the bok choy and saute, stirring constantly, for 3-4 minutes until it begins to wilt. Add the broccoli and saute, stirring/flipping constantly, for 3-4 more minutes until both the broccoli and bok choy is cooked as desired.

Take 2 florets of the broccoli out of the wok and add them to the sauce in the bowl to warm the sauce. Once the sauce is warm, pour into the wok and cook 1 minute until thickened and thoroughly coating the vegetables.

Serve on top of rice and garnish with sesame seeds and chopped scallions.

Serves 4-6

The napa cabbage hails from a farm somewhere close by, but I can’t remember where. We picked it up at the natural foods co-op here where, surprisingly, local food is almost unheard of–plenty of organics, but not much local. The three or four cabbages in the produce department summed up the entirety of local offerings. A shame that there wasn’t more, but I was happy enough to get my mitts on one!

The recipe is ripped entirely from The Kitchn and, while I wasn’t up for starting the grill for one small cabbage, broiling the cabbage in a cast iron pan did the trick. For the vinaigrette, I used organic lime juice in the fridge and a bottle of vegetarian fish sauce (yup, they make it…and mostly out of leeks, apparently), as well as the other ingredients (sans cilantro–just can’t eat the stuff).

Once again, it’s summer in a dish–with the crispy edges of the leaves reminding me of BBQs and charred veggie dogs, the lime like jumping into a cold lake on a hot day. Between the spice and the citrus and the almost-grilled quality of the dish, it hit the spot. And made me wish that it were beach weather again. Or, well, anything but cold and rainy!

Broiled Cabbage with Lime Vinaigrette

From the Kitchn

For the cabbage:
1 head napa cabbage, rinsed & outer leaves removed
Canola or vegetable oil

For the vinaigrette
1/4 c lime juice
1/4 c olive oil
1 tsp vegetarian fish sauce (omit if you don’t have any)
1 tsp Bragg’s amino acids or soy sauce
2 cloves garlic
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp red pepper flakes
1 tsp turbinado sugar

Set the oven to broil.

Make the vinaigrette by combining all ingredients in a blender and blending until smooth. Adjust seasonings to taste. Set aside.

Chop the napa cabbage lengthwise, then into wedges. Arrange the wedges in a cast iron pan or on a baking sheet. Brush with canola/vegetable oil, and let broil for 5-7 minutes until the edges are browning and crisping. Flip over with a pair of tongs and repeat for another 5-7 minutes.

Remove the cabbage wedges from the oven and arrange on a platter. Drizzle with the vinaigrette.

Serve as a side dish.

This year I proposed a girls’ night out for me, my mother, and F, my sister-in-law. I mean, who doesn’t love a chance to dress up a little and hit the town? Unfortunately, I’d IKEAed it earlier in the day, and driving from the ‘burbs to IKEA, surviving the store, and driving back to the ‘burbs did me in. No intown Atlanta adventures awaited us. But, thankfully, right where my brother and F live is in the new Little Asia of sorts. So we decided to try out a Japanese restaurant rumored to have excellent ramen, and then hit the Super H Mart afterward to pick up some goodies.

There’s a back story to the restaurant choice, of course. As soon as I heard the McSweeney’s would be producing Lucky Peach, I subscribed. And the first issue coincided perfectly with our beach trip. Beach reading! The first issue ended up being dedicated entirely to the subject of ramen–all the complex yet simple noodley, soupy goodness that it is. Having never been able to even try a bowl of ramen in my lifetime, I became obsessed. And, since July, have consistently failed at getting a bowl of it. Thus, in the suburbs filled with Korean-Japanese-Vietnamese-etc. restaurants, I knew this was it: this was my chance to finally satisfy a six month old craving.

Haru Ichiban, tucked in a strip mall that I used to frequent for the jalapeno queso of El Torero in my middle school days, is a little slice of Japanese cuisine heaven. It’s been around for awhile and came recommended by Creative Loafing, so I knew it would hold some potential, but had no idea how much. We started with a few small dishes to share–pork gyoza, a vegetable roll, and vegetable tempura–and then each ordered a bowl of ramen–tonkotsu. And it was waaaay too much food, but isn’t that what nights out are for?

The vegetable tempura was nothing special in the preparation, but the array of vegetables really blew my mind. Pieces of potato, yellow squash, pumpkin (I think?), even broccoli were lightly fried in tempura batter and served with a dipping sauce (soy-based, I’d guess). Who knew tempura broccoli could be so good? The broccoli was steamed and then fried, giving it a definite crunch with the tempura, but then a soft, pillowy bite on the inside. Yes, pillowy broccoli. Seriously the best.

A favorite of my mom & F’s was the pork gyoza–dumplings filled with pork and seasoning, steamed and then fried and served with some sort of sauce. The dumplings were salty and savory and slightly oniony all in a good, soft & fried way. They weren’t anything special, but they were utterly delicious. I had to fight to get one of them from the other ladies!

And, since neither my mom nor F enjoy sushi, we compromised (since I’m addicted to it and love trying it in new places) and ordered a vegetable roll chock full of avocado, cucumber, carrots, and lettuce. The vegetables were so incredibly fresh and snappy that I think this might take the title of best vegetable sushi I’ve ever had. I would have loved to see what the sushi chefs could create with fish, but I’ll save it for some other time and have a smorgasbord.

But we weren’t there for the small plates–we were there for the ramen and, let me tell you, it delivered. All the prep reading of Lucky Peach prepared me for tonkotsu ramen to be milky, porky, and noddly, and it was. My heavens, it was. And the bowl was bigger than the size of my head. So we really could have almost just shared one between us all. The noodles were soft and slurpable, but still with enough solidity to make them satisfying, and the broth was unbelievably milky and just salty enough. I could have gone for more pork, but with the broth I can’t really complain, and the bowl, though only half eaten, was well worth the 7 hour drive to Atlanta from Roanoke.

I wasn’t sure if F & my mom would like or enjoy the meal, but they really seemed to, and I even talked them into sharing some cold sake (Gekkeikan Draft) with me! Points! What might have been a stretch ended up being a comfortable evening catching up with each other, sharing a ton of laughs, and enjoying dishes we’d never tried before. If you’re looking for a great Japanese restaurant with amazing ramen and reportedly delicious sushi, definitely check out Haru Ichiban. It’s well worth the drive from downtown (plus you can feel super superior to the overweight suburbanites waddling out of the Melting Pot–a kitschy fondue restaurant–next door. What more could you ask for?!).

Haru Ichiban
3646 Satellite Blvd
Duluth, GA 30096
770.622.4060

For this rather drab and dreary (weather-wise) Dark Days post, I’ve decided to throw us a little summertime–compliments of my favorite place up the mountain & a bit of preserving. A skip, hop, and a jump away (well, up) the mountain from Roanoke is Floyd, Virginia–the area that another Dark Days poster, Rebecca, hails from.

While Floyd itself is a great little town, my favorite part of it the hidden gem of Greens Garage. Greens Garage is owned/led by Tenley Weaver of Good Food, Good People. Tenley herself is a master farmer who grows some delicious food, but she’s also responsible for helping bring local food to the New River Valley through GFGP’s cooperative effort. GFGP rounds up the available fresh produce, eggs, cheese, and meat from farmers in Floyd and drives them down to the Grandin farmer’s market around the corner from us. Instead of each farmer having to put forth the hours and gas to drive up and down the mountain, Tenley does it all–in a highly organized fashion. She’s definitely one of the pillars of Roanoke local food and not just local food in Floyd.

Greens Garage is a part of the GFGP effort–it’s a farm store open to folks on the honor system. Inside you’ll find a bevy of local and organic foods, as well as crafts and books and such, and the idea behind is that you weigh off your food, mark it on the slip, and pay by your honor. It’s a magical place and it’s my favorite stop whenever I’m in the neighborhood. Just think–hydroponic tomatoes in the dead of winter! Fresh spinach! Potatoes! Apples! Etc.! It’s all there–and at highly affordable prices (GFGP’s food obviously costs more in Roanoke since gas & time go into the cost).

Thus, a bit of summer in the middle of winter–spaghetti squash saved from the autumn farmers market, pesto made up of basil from my garden and then frozen into cubes, oven roasted hydroponic cherry tomatoes from Yoder’s Hydroponics up near Floyd, and fresh spinach from either Tenley’s farm or another close by. This kind of produce is magical in the time of squash and sweet potatoes and kale.

The pesto is a little bit different than my usual with Brazil nut oil and Brazil nuts in addition to the usual basil. The Brazil nut oil was a birthday gift from my sister-in-law and I’d been holding onto it until I could think of a way to really emphasize such an unusual (to me) oil. Combined with actual Brazil nuts and then the basil, this pesto had a nice smooth nutty taste with a slight bitterness in the back. Savory in all the right ways. To save the pesto I froze it in ice cube trays overnight and then popped the pesto cubes out and stored them in freezer bags–voila, personal pesto!

To create the meal, I simply roasted the tomatoes, tossed a cooked spaghetti squash with the pesto, and sauteed some spinach with garlic. Simple, satisfying, and a breath of fresh air to all the heavy, wintery meals we’ve been having lately (see, no cabbage! hooray!)

Spaghetti Squash with Brazil Nut Pesto, Oven Roasted Tomatoes, & Spinach

To Make the Brazil Nut Basil Pesto:
2 c fresh basil
1/2 c Brazil nuts
2/3 c Brazil nut oil
2 cloves garlic
salt to taste

In a food processor, combine all ingredients and process until smooth. Add more nuts, basil, and oil as needed to achieve a nice, smooth consistency. Add salt in small pinches to taste.

To Make the Spaghetti Squash, Oven Roasted Tomatoes, & Spinach

1 2 lb spaghetti squash
1 pint cherry tomatoes
1 large bunch of spinach
1/4 c Brazil nut pesto
2 cloves garlic, minced
Salt
Pepper
Olive Oil

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

Slice the cherry tomatoes in half and arrange, sliced side up, on a nonstick baking tray. Bake for 20-25 minutes until slightly flatter and roasted (beginning to blacken around some of the edges). Remove from oven and let cool.

Meanwhile, cook the spaghetti squash. (I cheated and cooked it in the microwave. Obviously you could cook it in the oven at the same time, but I couldn’t due to timing.) To cook in the oven, spear the flesh several times with a fork. Place on a baking tray and bake 40-45 minutes until soft-ish to the touch (a fork should be able to pierce it easily). To cook in the microwave, spear several times with a fork, place in microwave and cook 7 minutes. Turn over and cook another 7 minutes. Cook longer if needed for it to be soft.

Cut the spaghetti squash in half lengthwise and scoop out the seeds. With a spoon, scoop out the “spaghetti” and place in a bowl. Mix with the pesto.

In a pan over medium heat, warm a teaspoon or two of olive oil. Add the minced garlic and cook until fragrant, one minute. Add the spinach and saute until soft, 3-4 minutes.

Serve the spaghetti squash with the oven roasted tomatoes and spinach.

After we found our way to a table, we found a lovely glass of Coreto Tinto 2008 Table Red wine waiting for us and, quickly thereafter, a plate of snacks arrived (anyone else find the term “hors d’oeuvres” presumptuous too?). I found the gesture of a bottle of wine quite comforting–it really set the tone for the meal: sit down, settle in, get comfy, and enjoy the food & company. As for the snacks, who can resist a little boudin blanc wrapped in pastry, two tiny flavor-packed spicy Tuscan sausage slices, a chunk of funky & earthy gaperon cheese, and two Rappahannock oysters to throw back? The boudin blanc in pastry was smooth and rich, the Tuscan sausage (wherever it was from) packing heat and spices into one nibble (I could have used a few more of those slices…). As for the gaperon & oysters–can we say vaginal (and I mean that as quite a compliment)? Both were seductive–the oysters with their pure ocean-ness, the gaperon with it’s heady taste of cows and grass.

A champagne toast before the start of courses, and into the first: Marinated Smoked Eel with Radicchio & Frisee. I love me some saltwater eel, so I was delighted to try freshwater eel for the first time (especially after reading so much about it–and writing so much about it in my thesis–in Roger Deakin’s Waterlog). The eel itself had the texture of the fleshiest pieces of smoked trout that I sold through Big Pine, with a slight salty marinated tang to the side of the palate. A little underwhelming in the portion size as relative to the raddichio and frisee, but exciting to finally try. Most of my radicchio & frisee went untouched as I found the bitterness to be overwhelming–maybe a smaller taste of the vegetables to the eel would have tempered the bitterness and let the eel shine.

Second course came paired with Foggy Ridge Cider’s Stayman and was the as gushed about before French Chestnut Soup with Shaved Black Truffle. I loved it last year and I loved it again–rich, creamy, smooth, and utterly nutty with the great earthy truffle back notes. And this time they gave us a definite serving of the soup instead of NYE’s paltry lick. Nothing new about it, but a good ol’ favorite of mine.

Third course was my favorite: Duck Galantine with Foie Gras. It was, for me, the spotlight of what Jeff and the rest of the crew at Lucky do so well: take old school French comfort food and elevate it just enough that it feels exotic and hits the mark for fine dining–yet is still craveable for every day eating. Not that I’d eat foie gras every day. But I can crave fantastically cooked duck, yes? A Galantine, according to Wikipedia, is “a French dish of de-boned stuffed meat, most commonly poultry or fish, that is poached and served cold, coated with aspic.” Thus, Jeff’s duck gallantine was a deboned duck stuffed with foie gras, poached, served to slightly less than room temp. To be frank, I don’t know my aspic-ed food well enough to know if he did that bit (I would guess that he did, given his traditional bend), but, served with an intense reduction of something (oh gosh, remember now…red wine?), the duck was by far my favorite–rich and tender, juicy with that slight gamey duck taste, I’m craving it now. That course was also served with a Jack Rose which, while a favorite cocktail of mine, not my favorite pairing given the tartness of it. It didn’t clash, just didn’t elevate the galantine.

Course four brought a classic Italian winter comfort dish: Cotechino served with Bollito Misto and Lentils. Jeff’s sous chef Josh Labrecque brought to the night. Cotechino is an Italian sausage served as part of the Bollito Misto, or boiled dinner. Bollito Misto is a traditional Italian meal featuring meats and vegetables cooked in broth and served with a sauce or two. Our Bollito Misto featured the Cotechnio, carrots, cabbage, potatoes, and the French or Beluga lentils (can’t remember now). A very tasty dish, but maybe a little too hearty for the evening–at $100 a head, I expected a tad more refinement than this. Not to downgrade the dish, but to say that it felt out of place for the progression of charcuterie to a salad to soup to duck gallantine. Everything was cooked beautifully and I’d definitely order it again some other cold winter night, but it fell a little flat for us.

Fifth course was dessert and, again, with Italian flair–Panettone & Turron, a nougat made of honey. Jeff apologized for the nougat, which is the liquidy part of the plate with hazelnuts in it–he hadn’t calculated the heat of the kitchen and his nougat melted before it could reach the guests. Never matter, it tasted of honey and hazelnuts and was quite delicious all on its own. The panettone was good as well, but, it not being a favorite of mine, I only tried a bite or two for posterity and then let G finish the rest. I would have liked to see more depth–something a little more dark and bitter (the cocoa dust on the plate definitely achieved that), but I found the plate too be a little too sweet and rich, needed something to cut it. Served with a small glass of Foggy Ridge Pippin Black, a dessert cider made of a blend of hard cider from Newtown Pippin and Arkansas Black apples and VA apple brandy, the course was solidly good if not the best dessert I’ve ever had. (And, remember, I’m hella picky with my desserts!)

After the meal, we traipsed next door to Kirk Avenue Music Hall for the My Radio EP Release show. All the guys sounded great and the turn-out was crazy–it was hard to find room near the stage and I definitely had to elbow my way up to get any shots of the band. (One day I’ll figure out how to take better band shots…) Everyone was dancing and singing along and the guys were having a lot of fun and it was great to actually hear the play for the first time after getting to know them at the restaurant over the past year. Roanoke couldn’t ask for a more talented group of individuals to call it home!

Over all, the dinner and show were a fantastic way to start the Holiday season and set the tone for the weeks to follow (those darn weeks that I really need to get posted up here before Spring hits!). I can’t believe how lucky (ha. Oh, that pun was not intended. Arg.) we are to have such a great restaurant in town guided by such a dedicated and talented head chef like Jeff Farmer. Between him and Josh, his Sous, Lucky’s in great culinary hands. And Hunter can always make me a drink. And etc., etc. (smile) To all the co-owners of Lucky, thanks for investing in Roanoke’s culinary future, I’m so grateful to have the restaurant here!

Lucky Restaurant
18 Kirk Avenue
Roanoke, VA, 24011
540.982.1249

While I may be a few days late on the jam, nothing rings in the new year like collard greens and cornbread–so why not combine the two? I obviously didn’t come up with the idea (I first saw the concept over on The Kitchn) and it feels like a cheater recipe since I just took two recipes already on here and combined them, but, hey, it was tasty and it went amazingly well with some black eyed peas. Health & wealth all around! The collards came from Franklin County and the corn meal was milled up the way, so it’s a fairly local dish for me, and one that’s easy to adapt to whatever greens you have on hand–kale, spinach, mustard, turnip, what have you. Win-win all around for sure!

Collard Greens Casserole

1 recipe Good Ol’ Southern Collard Greens
1/2 recipe Cornbread batter (not baked yet)

Preheat the oven to 375 F.

Pour your collards into a baking dish. Spread the cornbread batter on top.

Bake for 20-25 minutes, until the top is golden and an inserted knife/pick comes out clean.

Let cool for 10 minutes before serving.

Serves 8

A day late and a dollar short, Merry Christmas to everyone! G & I enjoyed a very relaxed holiday, with plenty of movie watching, couch lazing, and mixed drink making (Sazeracs are just ohsogood with Fee Brothers Bitters!) Dorian, while still not super interested in the Christmas tree, did decide to model in front of it before she wandered off to nap in a corner behind some boxes. If only I could have stuck a bow on her… (smile)

Somehow it’s Monday already and, since I haven’t done one in awhile, it’s high time for a Monday Archive–this time, Smoky Split Pea Soup. The split pea soup made its appearance as part of our Very Merry Slovak Christmas Eve meal (of which several more recipes are to come this week) and was a great addition to the very merry cabbage-ness of the night. Smoky and salty and chock full of split pea goodness, it’s hard to beat–just be sure not to add any salt until you’re ready to serve. I used a vegetable bouillon and added salt early on which made for a mad rush to calm the overly salted soup. (If it happens, peel and chop a potato to throw in the pot to soak up some of the salt–it really works!)

I hope you all enjoyed the long weekend holiday and are having a good time being with family, enjoying vacation, or getting back into the swing of things. I’m off to see family later on in the week, so look for some updates in Atlanta!

Smoky Split Pea Soup

Originally posted February 4, 2010

2 tbsp olive oil
1 large onion, diced
2 large carrots, peeled and diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 tsp ground thyme
1/2 tsp dried marjoram
1 tsp aleppo pepper (or 1/2 tsp chipotle pepper)
2 bay leaves
1/4 tsp hickory liquid smoke
salt to taste (add at the end of the cook time)
pepper to taste
2 c dried split peas
7 c vegetable broth

In a large pot, heat the olive oil over medium heat. Add the onions and carrots and saute until tender, 6-7 minutes. Add the garlic and spices and saute for 1 minute, until fragrant.

Add the split peas, vegetable broth, and liquid smoke and bring to a boil. Once boiling, lower to a simmer and cover.

Cook for 1-1 1/2 hours until the peas being to break down and thicken.

Serves 6

Tis the season to host parties–at least now that we have a house to host them in–and G & I hosted our first Casa G Christmas Party this past Saturday. For the fete, I whipped up a couple of batches of Christmas cookies from the family archive, as well as some savory hors d’oeuvres, and a honkin’ huge batch of locally-sourced eggnog (with a carton of Silk Nog on the side for those who wanted a dairy/egg-free version to lace with bourbon).

The eggnog, actually, didn’t take nearly as much work to whip up (literally) as I was afraid it would, and I used the New York Time’s 1958 recipe which called for a dozen eggs and 3 pints heavy whipping cream. I advertised it as low-fat, low-cholesterol. (hehe) I’m aware that it isn’t, and that it isn’t remotely vegan, but with local eggs and cream, it was over the top good, and, as the Times says it must be, thick enough to be eaten with a spoon. Plus, who can resist the amazing Pyrex Eggnog Bowl & cups I picked up at an antique store last summer for only $15? Le cute!

Hors d’oeuvre wise, I made the crowd favorite–vegan pigz in a blanket made with the oh-so-delicious Good Dogs, sliced up and wrapped in Kroger brand crescent rolls, and served with smokey and spicy BBQ sauce for dipping. I seriously love those things and I’m glad my friends do too.

Our friends brought tons of other cookies and eats and I meant to take pictures of the festivities, but totally forgot, so you’ve only got my bit to oogle. But trust me, the Christmas cheer was out in full force and, hey, did you know, if you mix Lick Yrself Clean with any song, it’s genius. Oh, and She & Him’s Christmas album totally jives with LCD Soundsystem. Try it out, it’s a racket (probably literally…)

Below, however, is a veganized version of some probably now deceased relative of mine’s recipe for “Sand Tarts”–little bite-sized shortbread cookies made with brandy and chocolate. It’s impossible to go wrong with those two things, actually. The cookies were always a favorite of mine growing up and, as recently as last year, I could be found sneaking them from the freezer to nibble on at my mom’s house in Mobile when I visited her for the holiday. They’re super simple to make and a perfect treat for taking to parties or just snacking on this week and next–I mean, who doesn’t need more buttery, chocolatey, boozy things in their life right now?

Sand Tarts

1 c Earth Balance
1 c turbinado sugar
1 En-r-G egg replacer egg
2 tbsp brandy
1 tsp vanilla
1/2 tsp salt
2 c all-purpose flour
6 oz chocolate chips

Pre-heat the oven to 350 F.

Pour the chocolate chips into a food processor. Process until the chocolate chips are a ground. Set aside.

In a large mixing bowl/bowl of a mixer, cream the Earth Balance and sugar. Add the egg substitute, brandy, vanilla, and salt. Beat until well combined.

Add the flour, beat till a dough forms. Add the ground chocolate chips, mix until just combined and the chocolate is thoroughly mixed in.

Shape into small, teaspoon sized balls and place on baking sheets. Slightly flatten with fingertips.

Bake for 7-8 minutes, until the tops are slightly firm when pressed on. If the sides are browning, remove instantly–you don’t want that to happen. The cookies will harden as they cool.

Makes 4 dozen.

The other night found me in the kitchen with a bigger loot of local produce than normal–cleaned up on greens at the market last week–but with a need to use up the last of my roasted pumpkin puree before it bit the dust. And, since I was feeling under the weather, I wanted an easy option, and an easy option, invariably, means soup. Hearty, simple soup. And what says winter better than a bowl of soup with some crusty bread?

The inspiration came from Sprouted Kitchen’s recent post on Balsamic Roasted Root Vegetables and, while I adore balsamic vinegar, I never use it enough, and the thought of it paired with roasted veggies sounds perfect! So why not roasted vegetable soup with balsamic vinegar? And what goes better with balsamic vinegar than roasted garlic? G, at first, was skeptical of the combo, but agreed that it turns out to be a very vibrant soup, and one with some interesting and surprising notes–sweet tang from the balsamic vinegar, deep and hearty notes of pumpkin and turnip, mellow richness from the roasted garlic. It all adds up somehow. Now it just needs a witty name. Anyone, anyone?

Local Loot:
Pumpkin: from Good Food Good People, Floyd Co.
Turnips: Guthrie Farms in Boones Mill, VA
Garlic: from Good Food Good People, Floyd Co.
Creasy Greens garnish: Guthrie Farms in Boones Mill, VA

Roasted Pumpkin, Turnip, & Garlic Soup with Balsamic Vinegar

3 c roasted pumpkin puree
1.5 lbs turnips, washed and chopped into even-sized chunks
1 head garlic
3 c vegetable broth
1 15 oz can coconut milk
1 tsp smoked paprika
1/2 tsp powdered sage
2-4 tbsp balsamic vinegar
olive oil
salt to taste

Pre-heat oven to 400 degrees F.

Chop the top bit off the head of garlic. Place in tin foil, pour olive oil over it, and cinch up to make a packet.

On a baking tray, place the turnip pieces and drizzle with olive oil. Toss to coat.

Place the turnips and the garlic in the oven and roast until the turnips are soft when poked with a fork and the garlic, when the foil is opened and the garlic is poked with a fork, soft. This takes 20-35 minutes, depending on the size, etc. Check every little while.

Remove the garlic and turnips and set aside to cool for 15 minutes.

In a food processor, place the turnips and pumpkin puree. Slice or squeeze each clove of garlic free from its paper and add to the processor. Process for 1 minute, until everything is beginning to blend. Add the coconut milk and vegetable broth. Process another 1-2 minutes until everything is smooth.

Transfer the soup to a pot on the stove, bring to a boil then lower to a simmer. Add the paprika and sage, as well as 1/2 tsp salt. Stir. Add 2 tbsp balsamic vinegar, stir to combine. Let simmer for 5 minutes; stir periodically. Taste the soup. Add more salt and balsamic vinegar to taste and continue to simmer at least another 10 minutes. The longer it simmers, the saltier it will become, so be sure not to over-salt.

Serve with crusty bread.

Serves 6

This past Sunday I hosted a lovely group of ladies (and one young gent) for a gingerbread house making party. It’s one of those things that sounds amazing on paper, but once you get elbow deep in Crisco and sugar, you realize it’s kind of a big deal. While I’ll never make the parts for 7 houses ever again, it was incredibly fun to decorate them and hang out with some awesome OCD women–seriously, you find out how anal you are when you decorate one of these things. I, for one, should never be allowed to build anything since I only think of aesthetics and not necessarily the physics of things (my roof completely slid off after I weighed it down with gum drops), but everyone else did a fantastic job of keeping their houses together and decorating them with amazing flair. While it might be 60 degrees outside these days, icing always makes a great wintery alternative to snow!

 Candy Spread w/ some “real” food in the back for balance–vegan pigs in a blanket, yes!

 Sangria! From this recipe.

 Gingerbread house expert

 Sugar/icing gets everywhere–my god we had to scrub the entire dining room afterwards

 My janky icing job

 Mine turned into an A-Frame w/ a big skylight after the roof fell down

 Check out those Hershey Kiss shingles! Mad skillz.

 I’d be cool with living in a house with a M&M roof…

 OCD Awareness Night

 Apparently she used to make 30 of these a year to sell for her Girl Scout troupe. This is why!

 When life hands you a busted roof, make a tightrope for a little gummi bear. Then give him a beret. All’s well then.

 Fini!