Christmas in July

I'm moving to France. They don't eat stuffing there. Or pumpkin pie (though they do eat a lot of savory pumpkin things. yum!). So in preparing myself mentally for this lack of holiday food, I realized the amazing opportunity I had. Stephen often likes direction/inspiration for Sunday dinners, and hell, I love themed parties. So glad we did it. I might make it a year and a half before I get my next helping of holiday food. I won't make it the same amount of time before re-watching Ernest's "Your World As I See It", which is how the night ended, dinner guests crowded around the tv. 


Le Menu


Stephen's Delicious Field-Roast Style Ham
Cornbread Stuffing
Pepper Gravy
Mac and Cheese Casserole
Pumpkin Pie

I dressed in my red sequin show choir dress, circa 2002, to honor...err be more festive. However, halfway through dinner I had to change. There was no room for food! 

Cornbread Stuffing

1 recipe vegan cornbread (Veganomicon)

4 cups veg broth

seasoning from a box of rice

prepared box of rice or packet of instant rice, heated

1/2 cup dried cranberries

1 acorn squash or sweet potato, roasted in the oven til tender

1/2 c chopped pecans

1 apple, cubed

2 stalks celery

1 onion, chopped

Mix together the cooked cornbread and the rest of the dry ingredients. Add salt and pepper. Mush with your hands or a wooden spoon to combine. Pour into 9x13 pan and pour veg broth over, making sure all is moist (more water or broth may be needed). Cover with foil and bake at 350 for several hours. 

Pepper Gravy

Margarine

Flour (could use Bob's Red Mill for GF)

Veggie Broth

salt and pepper

oregano

Over low heat, make a roux with the margarine and flour and add broth. Season at the end. People love gravy; make a lot!

Baked Mac and Cheese

(to fill a 9x13 pan, serves 8)

2 boxes GF pasta, prepared

2 packages Daiya Cheddar Cheese

1 red bell pepper, chopped

White Gravy*

Layer (twice) cooked pasta, then bell pepper, cheddar cheese and finally gravy. Cook, covered with foil until cheese is melted and gooey. Uncover and bake another 15 minutes. 350F

*White Gravy

Follow directions for pepper gravy but use white flour, non-dairy milk (look for very low sugar content), and margarine. Season with salt and pepper. 

Pumpkin Pie with Coconut Whip

recipe courtesy of Vegan Pie in the Sky, prepared according to instructions, though doubling (will have some filling left over. I made mini pies with it)

Sarah's thrifty find and 
a group decorating effort

More About Pasties

PJ, dear friend, your enthusiasm is simply incredible. And your dough folding abilities match.

Scientific Discovery Week

Several years ago, while I was reading the novel "Caramelo" by Sandra Cisneros, during a part of the novel where the main character is waxing about the differences between corn and flour tortillas, I developed a hypothesis that I could tell whether or not I would like someone based on the type of tortillas they preferred. Corn tortilla meant that I would enjoy and value their friendship, flour I wouldn't. But the first time I tried out this hypothesis, it was with two dear friends of mine, one Jeromy Maupin, one of my oldest and dearest and the other James Adams, a handsome lad who I've lost to bustling San Francisco, last I heard. Neither of them preferred corn, and in fact James claimed that corn made his nauseated, which I maintain that he was probably being dramatic. None the less, I actually wondered for a moment, so sure had I built up myself on my theory, that I wondered for a moment, if only a moment, whether or not I actually liked these dear, wonderful friends. I still feel terrible that I would have called into question. Back to the large tortilla collider in order to work on new theories.

That said, Rita showed up this week, after weeks of begging, to our Sunday dinner.

And she brought corn tortillas. I knew this kid was a good apple. She was working on a vegetarian option for a travelling pop-up restaurant that she participates in called MoFun. And Laura and I got to be the test subjects.

I realize that the photo is blurry, but all you need to know about this is that it was a schmorgisboard of delicious for veggi-tacos. When I remember to, at a later date, in the comments field I will post some details of Rita's feast because there were too many things in here that I had never heard of, which was exciting for me, but well, I should have written all of those things down. They say that not remembering things is a symptom if disinterest, but I will posit another hypothesis here, that forgetfulness is often a symptom of being so satiated. 

I made vegan-lemongrass infused-fried chicken. 

Layers of tofu skin are... well... layered with a seasoning brushed on in between, much like a croissant. Then folded. Then steamed. Here above, the lemongrass has been cut and separated in order to do the infusing, but also the lemongrass does the second duty of preventing the yuba packages from sticking to the steamer.

And here is one of the steamed yuba packages accompanied by sliced pieces, dusted with flour, awaiting the goopy mess of the batter.

This is Laura.

I like Laura, and I like Pie.

Pasties

We had some confusion about pasties. The long A pronunciation is one edible treat, and the short A is another. For some silly reason, I assumed people would understand that if I mentioned making pasties, I would be referring to the half-moon shaped pocket pies from England. I mean, I know this is the renaissance of DIY, but does anyone actually fashion homemade sex treats? Evidently its plausible to believe I do. So maybe I will... next week.

"Eat me already!"

Vegan Crust, c/o Cutie Pies

2 c flour
2 T sugar
1 t salt
2/3 c shortening
2 T soymilk
5 T ice water
5 T cold vodka

Makes one double crust. Blend dry ingredients; add shortening a chunk at a time using either two forks, a pastry blender or a mixer. Drizzle the soymilk in a bit at a time, then the water and vodka. Make sure all the dough comes together and is sticky, though not dripping wet. Its helpful to chill before use, but not imperative.

ready to bake

Curry Veggie Filling, c/o Cutie Pies

6-8 red potatoes, diced
2 T olive oil
1 onion, chopped
1/2 c raisins
1/2 c peanuts
1/3 c frozen peas and carrots
1 1/2 t salt
1 scant t ginger
1 T plus 2 t curry powder
1/4 t nutmeg
1/4 t cumin
1/4 t allspice

*Curry sauce or coconut milk, if desired, is good for saucier filling. Mix (to taste)with ingredients before filling in crust.

Roast potatoes, tossed with oil and some salt, in the oven at 375 til soft. Combine the rest of the ingredients and stir to mix the spices evenly.  Place a small pile in the center of the dough and fold over. Roll up the curved side to make a generous handle of crust. Pierce with a fork several times to vent and brush with soymilk. Bake 30-40 minutes.

Sarah and PJ working hard

"Not Just Yet"*

It wouldn't be a dinner party without a nice dessert. At least, not at my house.  Although I originally agreed to sous-chef these Sunday night suppers, the role didn't really fit me. I bake. And I like to treat people to something they won't often make for themselves.


So, as Stephen loves pie, and he goes ALL THE FREAK OUT in making great dinners, it seemed like a reasonable idea to put it on the menu. Plus with the abundance of delicious summer fruit, how could I resist? Pie is trendy these days, but its also one of those desserts I've put on the back burner for far too long, relegating the duty to my mom's expert hands every holiday season. No more, I said. Three good reasons are enough for me. 

Below you will find the latest pie, Cherry Peach Crumble Pie (vegan). It tastes like cobbler, but its prettier. This is an adapted recipe from Vegan Pie in the Sky.
   

Baked single pastry crust, fit into a 9 inch pie plate, edges crimped

Filling:

3 lbs fresh peaches, chopped
2-3 cups fresh cherries, pitted and chopped
2/3 cup sugar
2 tablespoons tapioca flour (= 1 tablespoon cornstarch)
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1/8 teaspoon salt
dash of vanilla or almond extract


Topping:

2 cup all-purpose flour
2/3 cup brown sugar
4 tablespoons white sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon
2/3 cup non-hydrogenated margarine, melted (or canola oil)



Preheat oven to 375. Roll and bake the pie crust, making sure to prick the bottom with a fork. 

Make the filling by combining all the ingredients the night before, or the day of (if made ahead of time, drain a bit of the juice before using). Fill the baked pie crust with the fruit. In a food processor or mixer, combine the topping ingredients (or use a pastry blender, or several forks). Crumble the topping on top of the fruit and bake at 375 until the filling bubbles up on the sides and has the shiny glean of jelly (at least 30 minutes, probably closer to 45). 

*My grandpa said if you are offered dessert at a dinner and answer "not just yet", there might not be any left when the plate comes around again. Better take advantage when you can. My favorite version of carpe diem.

A Step By Step, If Not Somewhat Imprecise, Method For Making Yuba Fish

Even when yuba (tofu skin) sheets are just resting in a bowl, they look like flesh, and when you buy them dried and soak them, sitting there in the slightly yellowed water, they look like they could be a display at the Mutter Museum. But this is the start of making a yuba fish. After soaking the dried sheets overnight, I've drained most of the water out of them.

Here the yuba sheets have been chopped into small flakes. How small? As small as I could get them with out being frustrated by how slippery the little devils are. My food processor was too small to do any thing with them as whole sheets, but I imagine that if I were to chop, then process, I could get a few busts in to make them smaller if I thought that smaller flakes was important enough. Put aside several whole sheets of yuba for the fish skin later.

Another option, as seen above, if you're soy intolerant, or avoiding soy for any number of reasons, is to make the yuba fish using mushrooms, purchased insanely cheaply from the local Korean market. Here we have oyster mushrooms and a black, crunchy-chewy thing that I've only heard called fungus. These I put through the food processor, several quick pulses and then put them into the bowl to season them. The seasonings are the same for the yuba sheets as they are for the mushroom alternative. They are:

6 Tbs cornstarch

3 Tbs mushroom bullion

1 1/2 Tbs sesame oil

1 Tbs of diced lemongrass might be nice, or ginger 

These are all mixed in a bowl together with the diced mushrooms or diced yuba sheets.

Here you can see a full sheet of yuba with one of two of the sheets of nori laid out on it. The nori is put together lengthwise, and the moisture from the yuba makes the nori malleable -- ready for rolling. With a brush, spread a mixture of one part water and one part cornstarch over the sheets of nori. Take two cups of the stuffing (the diced, seasoned mixture) and put in the center, then spread it out. 

The stuffing is rolled into the skin into log-like... well, um rolls. Above , you can see one of the logs cut into halves to fit into my rice cooker / steamer, where it is steamed for twenty minutes. The filling plumps up a bit, the outer layer of yuba becomes transluscent, and the end result resembles a real fish.

Here you can slice off pieces horizontally and fry them in oil until the surface is browned and the skin bubbles a bit. Add sauce and serve on a plate, or what I did for the week after Sunday dinner is wrap it in a tortilla with peanut sauce, kehl, red leaf lettuce and chard for a quick lunch or dinner.

This sauce was made throwing many of the fruits that were in my CSA. The fish can be a strong flavor, so I tried using sweet, tangy flavors to balance it out. In this skillet: 2 peaches, 1 red bell pepper, lime juice, lemongrass, water, 2 tablespoons of cornstarch. To finish, simmer until the fruit softens and then put through a food processor. Another options is making a gravy of onions, garlic, lime juice and some veggie broth thickened with a bit of flour and some cornstarch, or if you prefer just cornstarch. 

I can't promise pictures of Mount Rainier

These collard greens are what started the meal:

I don't know if there's an incorrect way to fix collards, and greens in general. In my home, they traditionally have gone into a cast iron skillet and prepared as suggested by an old edition of The Joy of Cooking, a copy of the book that I searched bookstores for over a year to find, in San Francisco and Seattle, but the fact of the matter is that everybody else who values their Joy of Cooking has an old edition too, and they also had to search bookstores for a year or more to find it -- knowing that the new, revised edition doesn't have a lot of the general information that makes it invaluable, so they hold onto it, and probably we have to wait for someone's sweet grandmother to pass before one shows up in the bookstore so that receiving one is a bit bittersweet, which is maybe why the collards recipe in there is so good. I alter the recipe from that original one in the book to what I have in the fridge at the time: often there's horseradish from my mother's neighbor's yard in there, put through a food processor and then soaked in brine and apple cider vinegar, but some other ingredients that often get into the skillet are onions, garlic, apples; they're all chopped up and then put into the cast iron with some olive oil until the sugars begin to brown, then I toss in the collards, which have been chopped into ribbons, and the lid put on until they cook down. The Joy of Cooking, if I remember correctly, suggests a dollop of sour cream served with it, which wouldn't be terrible at all, though I've never tried it in spite of the wonderful sour cream impostors that are made and sold in the supermarket.

But in the interest of trying, not a raw, but maybe a less cooked version of collards, I used these greens to make into wraps. There are raw suggestions collard wraps, but none of the wraps that I saw videos of hugged the stuffing as much as I wanted them to. I cut the blades from their midrib, if I'm using those terms correctly, and then blanched the leaves -- twenty seconds in boiling water, and then into a colander to cool while I mixed a bowl of the stuffing together: carrot greens, quinoa, beats, and I placed this mix next to mushrooms that I bought at the Korean market and sauteed in oil and lime juice, and some carrots that I cut lengthwise.

A peanut sauce I made from peanut butter, Veganaise, the water that had soaked some mushrooms, apple cider vinegar, dill, salt, pepper... there may have been a splash of soy sauce in there somewhere. I get to putting things into that glass jar to shake up, and I can't remember anything. The problem is that I'm not paying attention while I do it, brain 2,500 miles away deep in the blue of a lake moving like the electricity from a wave. Then I come back and my arms are slightly tired and the sauce jarringly mixed.

Anyway, who cares about a recipe. Surely, this is what made fast food eateries successful: the ability to make a million of the same thing, exactly the same -- but I was told once that dishwear and furniture with defects, places where a hand slipped or glassware that would make the glass-blowing master of Murano ashamed, I was told that these items had become sought after because they showed off that a human had made them, a human had touched them during the creation. And I realize that I'm poo-pooing recipes after I mentioned that I looked long and hard for a copy of The Joy of Cooking, but after I found that copy of the book, I may have followed the recipe once, just one time to learn how to cook the greens, then the book never opened to that page ever again, yet I've never had a bad bunch of greens from that skillet. And I'll admit that I've opened to the same page a few times in order to learn and relearn proportions for making pie, but... well, no but... I use that page every time I bake a pie. Though the fruit I'll often pair with other, nontraditional ingredients such as blueberries and ginger; that pie turned out wonderfully, and I have ideas about apple, basil and some cheesy-impostor-something.

The best part of eating dinner: the people whom you eat with.

Almost as good as the company: Resplendent Laura's the rhubarb pie. 

A distant third is the view of Mount Rainier, mother of the city of Seattle, from the back porch.

(pictured here is Exquisite Sarah looking at Mount Rainier)