Holiday Shortbread for a (Stop-Everything-and-Hibernate) Cold Christmas

We drove nearly two hours for gluten free perogies. Up past rows of newly built houses and across lights that flickered red to green and back again. We took the scenic route, turning left off the highway to stop suddenly at a small garage at the end of a vineyard. Inside, buckets lined the wall, along with grapes, apples, pears, and squash ($1.00 each!) that were all for sale. 

We fumbled around our pockets for change, hopping from one foot to another in equal excitement and desperation. Such delicious grapes those were, but we had to leave empty-handed, not a coin had found its way into our hands to be exchanged for the delicious produce laid out. 

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At the Cabin

It's a shock to feel as if I have been hit by the sudden fact that it isn't only me that's moving away, something I can control, can always know when I'll be visiting friends again, but also the people I have grown to accept as always being around, always being there, will too, move away, and find new adventures on greater, larger, and expanding coast lines. As this week goes on, more of my friends update their Facebook statuses and with their new location, or post photos of their new dorm room home.

It came when I saw one of my good friends on the island only last Friday, and I was so absorbed in running from errand to errand as well as finding time for a quick coffee with mum before heading to a friends, worried about seeing her before she left to university as well, that I didn't even think that just that evening, he would be flying across the country for a semester in university. And I'm sure he's not the only person I've missed while I've been so wrapped up in my own move. 

After last weekend, we packed a little more and filled an entire row of boxes to be kept, and to be given away, but I also took a few days off to spend a couple of nights at my friends cabin, a place I have visited with her family for years, and a place where it is easy to forget everything else, and just enjoy the sound of the waves on the beach, or the numerous trips in the rowboat in hope of pulling up a big crab from the trap out in the bay.  

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The "Good Cookie"

It's a good thing we have cookies.

They make just feel normal again. Oh darling, I know there are those days when we begin to feel estranged from all those wheat-eaters out there. With a slow shake of your head as you decline a plate of Oreos ("But they're vegan!"), or a slice of cake, to see their tilted head and apologetic smile, just remember that a gluten free cookie has all the same comfort, and all the more flavour. Now, that's better. The warmth and flavour melts in your mouth. Chew. Swallow. Repeat. And rejuvenate.

Friends, you, and yours, are often absorbed in their busyness and activities, and can sometimes pass a plate of wheat-filled treats without thinking. You sheepishly pass it to the next person and avoid anyone's gaze. It's not guilt which you feel for the foods you have chosen (or must) not eat. Sometimes, their questioning which happens so frequently,

"Oh! You can't eat this?"

Or cries of,

"I am so sorry!"

Are worse that just forgetting the plate was ever passed, and held in your hands for that quick moment. Justifying yourself is too exhausting each and every time, time and time again. Sometimes it's a challenge: it's even more a challenge outside the comfort of your own home; managing restaurant menus while dealing with a growing appetite is certainly a tyrant of a battle. Sitting down to a hot latte in the city with friends while they chow down on deliciously appetising sandwiches (I stole all her olives!) or fluffy muffins that leave your belly grumbling (Darling, shhh, I whisper... People only stare, but that's just fine - at least I don't have a wheat belly!)

Friends that must be kept close, tell you they'll hunt the streets for "some of that weird gluten free food," and you laugh. Suddenly it's not so bad. The dragon will be tamed; I'll get my cake - and eat it too.

Those friends also make an pizza just for you for girl's night at her house, an experiment of different flours and techniques so again you can enjoy the normalities of everything about spending time with friends. Even if there is nothing normal about that night. It's important to remember that no matter who you are, and what you choose to do, your friends are always there, will always stand by you.

There will also be that perfect gluten free cookie.

Both invaluable, neither replaceable. This is for you.

Chocolate Chip Oatmeal Cookies
Print me here!

These are the perfect blend of sweet and everything nice. Add 1/2 cup of oats to replace the coconut flour for more crunch, and both ways, enjoy with the soothing aroma from a cup of a maple ginger tea latte. Blending strong and sweet, and putting both your mind and body back into balance.

Yields approximately 18 cookies.

2 tablespoons butter, softened
1/2 cup brown sugar
1 egg
1/2 cup almond butter, crunchy
1/2 cup apple sauce
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon salt
3/4 teaspoon baking soda
3/4 teaspoon baking powder
1 1/2 cups oats
1/2 cup brown rice flour
1/2 cup coconut flour
1/2 - 3/4 cup gluten free chocolate chips

Preheat the oven to 350°F, and line two baking sheets with parchment paper, set aside.

In a large bowl, cream together butter and sugar. Add the egg, pour in the almond butter and apple sauce, and mix.

Now add the cinnamon, nutmeg, salt, baking soda and powder, and oat. Fold into the wet.

Add in brown rice and coconut flour as well as the chocolate chips. Mix until well blended. Form 1 1/2 inch - 2 inch diameter rounds and press lightly onto the parchment paper.

Bake for 12 - 16 minutes.

Make tea.

Eat.

Enjoy!

xx S.

It Actually Snowed, and I Made Mince Pies

We had the first snowfall of the year on Tuesday, but snowflakes began falling Monday night. It would be nice to have some photos of the little winter wonderland the white blanket created, but sadly, and as West Coast weather goes, it was quick to fade as a heavy cloud of rain brewed above and quickly washed away the beauty which everyone kept commenting on. And which also caused numerous problems as last year, as if snow is once again something so unknown and mysterious to each and everyone of us.

But it sure feels that way with the amount of excitement building, especially this close to Christmas and with everyone in such a good mood. It's the possibility of a White Christmas.

It was good timing for the island to be encompassed by the comforting, wintry, weather. My sister arrived last weekend, and with the entire family home, it was the perfect family picture. (However, none were taken as I battled the last week of school - and teachers trying to fit last minute projects in - while my sister and her boyfriend fit as many Vancouver activities into their week together here as they could.)

I had a sense of déjà vu as I started writing this post out in my head, almost as if I'd pictured writing each sentence, each comparison to my entranced state from falling white specks, a million times with every snowflake that fell each year. As if every snowfall was a new experience.

Each time, as I again imagine the whitened fields and snow tiered trees, I also picture the road to my best friends house awash in white. It's the postcard image of winter, a long road, which often isn't plowed after heavy snowfalls, with rows of evergreen trees weighed down heavily and lined neatly alongside the road. Her house, sitting amidst a large field, often has at least 1 foot of snow when my house has only 1 or 2 centimeters.

I remember one year, it must have been my first year if high school, when the snow fell just as the festivities for Christmas began: the Christmas Craft Fair. Usually we spent the entire day wandering the craft tables and helping out with or parents shopping by exclaiming,

"Ooh! Look at this!"

Or, "Can I get this...?"

However, this year as we entered the gymnasium lined with tables and ornamental figurines on display to sell, little snowflakes drifted slowly down. It then became our duty to check frequently on the levels of rising whiteness outside, until that memorable moment came. After forgetting our patrol outside for sometime, minds filled with laughter and excitement from the cake walk and other festive treats inside, we finally returned outside to find more than a foot of soft, powdery snow.

It was then that we headed for the small embankment off the side of the school, where we were usually forced to steered clear from in fear of angered school teachers who would exclaim the low level of safety we risked by stepping one foot on the muddy, steep, and above all, crumbling, hill. Despite a road, with a cement fence, built just on top of the hill.

In nothing more than sweaters, and some of us in light shoes suited for dryer weather, we slid down the hill on our backs and stomachs, delighting in the thrill as the run became icier and faster with each person's turn. We were un-deterred by the cold, and warmed by the happiness of tumbling down a fast track made of snow and ice, surrounded by determined snowflakes and an island awash in winter paradise, we were unscathed by bumps and bruises by the slide down, and instead remained entirely exhilarated whether we felt the wet and cold or not.

I made mince pies today, a Christmas family tradition which we make every year for our annual Christmas Eve party. However, as mum baked a batch of the regular mince pies, I was motivated to try my hands at gluten-free pastry, and these indulgent little sweets.

It was definitely more time consuming, the pastry had to be played with and encouraged into form, and peeling it from the wax paper after rolling was one of the hardest parts. I wanted those little little pies though, so I kept going, repeating the cutting and peeling and placing process until I had twelve uncooked pastry pies sitting in a muffin tin, and were ready to be baked.

Traditional Gluten-Free Mince Pies
Print recipe here.

The buttery pastry is almost melt in your mouth delicious, and with the sweet n' spicy flavours of the mincemeat these are truly a Christmas delicacy.

Makes approximately 16 mince pies.

Ingredients

400 g gluten-free flour mix (I don't recommend using coconut flour in this mix, as it will just soak up all the moisture and leave the pies dry and crumbly.)
1 tsp salt
200 g chilled butter

I recommend cubing the measured amount of butter needed and placing it in the freezer for 10 minutes or so, to make sure it is extra cold when added to the flour. The trick is cold ingredients!

approximately 16 tbsp mincemeat

milk for brushing

Directions

Preheat the oven to 415°F and start by greasing a muffin tin with butter, and sprinkling with a bit of gluten-free flour mix.

In a food processor, combine the flour mix and salt. Pulse once, quickly.

Add in the butter and blend until the dough begins to form together into a large ball. If this does not occur, it may be due to the conditions of the air in your kitchen, pour a tiny amount of water in and pulse again.

Using two pieces of parchment paper for this next part, remove the dough from the processor and divide into two halves. Place one half on one piece of the parchment and layer the other piece of parchment paper on top. Roll out the dough through the paper until its approximately 0.5 cm thick.

Remove the top layer of parchment paper and cut out enough large circles with a cookie cutter. You may need to repeat the process of rolling and cutting a few times to fill the muffin tray. The cut outs should come up the sides of the muffin cups.

It may be easier to use slightly wet hands to peel the dough from the parchment paper to avoid it sticking to your hands, but it should not be wet.

With a tablespoon, scoop mincemeat into each pie so that a small amount sits in the centre of the cut dough.

With the other half of the dough, roll it out again as before, however, use a smaller sized circular cookie cutter to shape the lid of the mince pies. Place the smaller pieces atop the mincemeat and bottom so that the edges reach the side of the muffin cup.

When all are filled, use a fork to score all the way around the sides of the pies, and score once in the centre.

Pour a small amount of milk into a bowl, and using a little cooking brush, paint the tops of the pies with milk.

Place in the centre of the oven and bake for 20 minutes. The tops of the pies should be golden brown from the milk coating.

"Pea-Nutter Butter Cookie"

I can't even remember the last I time I had a good, homemade cookie.

Not the crunchy, flaky, type but a real, soft cookie. With the first bite into its moist centre I immediately remember those days mum and I would bake together, me as a little toddler, and my eyes couldn't yet see over the edge of the counter. It was before I became caught up in life outside of the comfort of my home, and the warmth of the kitchen where we baked.

There's one photo from my childhood that a freshly baked cookie, still warm from the clutches of the oven, reminds me of. It's in one of three photo albums from before digital cameras changed the process of documenting life neatly into books, right at the back where other photos of me with chicken pox remain. I laugh now at the contrast of one photo of me painfully lying in the bath tub, covered in red spots and looking extremely unhappy. Next to it, it's of me sitting happily atop the counter with a cookie dough covered spoon in my mouth and round cheeks full of happiness. My little belly full of cookie dough bulges, and flour and other ingredients have spilt around where I am sitting.

I must have loved cooking even as a young child, as another photo rests in my album of me sitting beside a cupboard in the kitchen, a bag of flour spilt across my lap, and an eager smile still gleaming across my face. My pink tights are barely visible under the whiteness of the flour, and it cascades across the floor.

A cookie is packed with love, its not to be unrecognised - it holds so much more than it appears. I mean, you give cookies to new neighbours as welcoming and make lifelong friends, cookies make perfect gifts, and they're always there to comfort and make a good day great. I remember when my best friend and I would spend the afternoon baking together at her house, enjoying the sweet smells wafting from the oven as we sat excitedly waiting for the timer's ring, rocking our feet back and forth as we sat on the counter recounting the first time we met. Biting into a cookie and reading gluten-free cooking blogs this afternoon, as the day became darker with heavy rain, I came upon this perfect quote from Karina of Gluten Free Goddess:

"A good cookie can make you smile, even after a tiresome, irritating day.  Yes, I know it's food not love. But a cookie can be. Love I mean. A kind of culinary hug, when baked with affection.

A good cookie might even bring you a kiss. Or tender arms of appreciation wrapped around your neck. A good cookie might even make you a new friend... A good cookie can make you feel like you belong."

And I did, sitting around the table with mum and dad, our cookies on a small plate in the centre, and mugs of tea in our hands. I felt perfectly relaxed at home. The day had been dark and rainy from the moment we awoke, the pitter patter of raindrops became the soundtrack to the day, a melody for naps in the afternoon and a comforting beat to read lines in our books.

I set to making cookies fearing that I would forget a vital ingredient again, at the very least that they wouldn't rise, or the very worst, not cook at all. However, using My Nana's Gluten-Free Flour Recipe and with a little patience, they came out in perfectly round shapes, even holding the designs on top, and tasting like every girls dream cookie. Every child's favourite cookie, and especially dad's favourite cookie, who recommended peanut butter when I wondered about what to bake.

Never neglect a need for a good cookie, it makes everything so much better. I swear.

Gluten-Free Peanut Butter Cookies
Adapted from King Arthur Flour's Peanut Butter Cookie Recipe
Print Recipe.

If you want a smoother cookie, use smooth peanut butter, but I quite like the bits of peanuts in mine, they make for little crunchy bits. I'd like to try different types of butters for a different flavour next time too, maybe cashew, hazelnut, almond or a mix of two!

I used half butter and half shortening for this recipe, using all butter will cause the cookies to be crunchier and shortening will result in a much chewier and softer cookie. For a little in between, a soft interior with a bit of crunch, do as I have done below.

Makes between 20 and 24 cookies, depending on size.

Ingredients

40 mL shortening, I used vegan shortening for these cookies
1/4 c butter, or replacement
3/4 c brown sugar
1 egg
1 tsp vanilla extract
3/4 c raw peanut butter

175 g Gluten-Free Flour Mix
1 tsp baking soda

Directions

Preheat the oven to 350°F and line a large baking sheet with parchment paper

In a large bowl beat together shortening, butter, brown sugar, egg, vanilla and peanut butter until smooth and thoroughly combined. If the butter and shortening is firm, microwave for 20 seconds to soften before adding other ingredients.

Add the gluten-free flour and baking soda, stirring to cover flour and then beat.

Pinch of small pieces of the dough and roll it into a ball with your hands, pressing it onto the baking sheet. Continue with the rest of the dough. With the edge of a fork press down to create little ridges and flatten the cookies.

Bake the cookies for 12 - 16 minutes, they will begin to brown at the edges but the tops should not. Remove them from the oven, and cool on a rack for 5 minutes.