Wrapped Up Falafel and Pita Style

 

Last nights dinner, warm home made kale falafels on top of fresh greens and slices of tomatoes from the farm, with a bed of piping hot pita breads straight from the oven, was the perfect end to a hot day that suddenly turned when the fog set in the bay, and a breeze swept up any leaves that tittered around the front deck. Dancing feet outside our open doors were fluttered away in one strong gust, and just the squeals of an open door caught up in the wind could be heard. I set to baking early in the afternoon, and with my chin resting on my hands, staring at this bunch of fresh kale, there was a separate whirlwind of thoughts, recipes, and ideas for the luscious green vegetable. The fresh kale from a nearby farm was how falafels became something else, a whole new flavour was added, as well as intrigue, and falafels were taken up a notch.

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Winter is the Time for Soup

Mum and dad were up and out of the house before I'd even got out of bed, and the rain was drizzling heavily in streams down the windows. It was one of those lazy weekend days where the cat slept in her little basket by the fire, the rabbit huddled under the coffee table, the dog was sprawled out comfortably between the cat and the rabbit next to the hearth of the fire, and there wasn't much going on at all. That is, except for the busy movement coming from the kitchen and bursts of air shuffling through the rooms following my flurry of activity.

The dog just raised her eyes at me, sighed, and went back to sleep. Only lifting her head enough to peer at me over top the back of the chair.

I lazily woke up with plans of cooking and sipping hot tea when I waited for the oven. My pajamas were just too cozy, so I slipped on a pair of fuzzy slippers and began about making a toasty and warm winter breakfast: fibre-filled oatmeal sprinkled with a dash of cinnamon. I cooked on the stove, stirring in freshly ground cinnamon with water and oats, and as the pot came to a boil, stirred vigorously to mix. I topped my breakfast with some apple slices quickly baked in the oven, defrosted blueberries from the valley in the summer, and finally, a spoonful of vanilla Greek yogourt. It was creamy, flavourful and delicious - and extremely colourful, a mix of vibrant blueberry blue, and cherry-apple red. A perfect start to a day of cooking and playing in the kitchen.

If there's one flavour which I could love more than chocolate, it would be cinnamon. Nothing short of delightful, I love the warm aroma of the spice in baked goods, a top my breakfast cereal, or even sprinkled on slices of apple and cottage cheese for a snack.

My tangle with kitchen utensils and ingredients didn't stop there however, for a few hours later, I stepped back into the kitchen for a creation for lunch. From the vegetables leftover in the fridge I chopped and peeled, imagined and fantasized all the while, as I combined flavours together to make something edible, and delicious. It was just the day for a hearty bowl of soup. A little shrimp cocktail from the evening before's dinner - we go big on Valentine's Day: mum makes dinner and I do dessert, a Chocolate Hazelnut Cake in pots - so I had it on the side ready to go with a few crackers. As I lent over the steaming pot on the stove, steam rising and cascading into my face, I felt the refreshing and warming power of a bowl of soup.

Winter Vegetable Soup
Print recipe here.

Chard seems to be in season this time of year, so instead of using the popular leafy green kale, I've opted for a few leaves of this similar dark green vegetable, which I have no doubt has very similar health benefits, full of essential vitamins and nutrients.

As a super quick stove top recipes for those days when you're just craving a bowl of hearty soup to ease the brisk chill of winter, I guarantee that a bowl of this vegetable soup will warm you and your mood.

Serves 2

Ingredients:

1 garlic clove, chopped finely
1 tbsp grape seed oil

1 1/2 cup canned chopped tomatoes, with juice
1 1/2 cup water

2 chard leaves, chopped
1/2 cup cubed yam
1/2 cup cubed zucchini
1 tsp dried thyme
1/4 each salt and pepper

Directions:

In a medium sauce pan heat the oil, and add the garlic. Cook about 1 minutes, until the garlic becomes fragrant.

Pour in the canned tomatoes, with juice, and add the water.

Bring the pan to a boil before adding the vegetables. I put the yam in a small bowl in a little water and heated it up for two minutes in the microwave to reduce cooking time on the stove.

Add the thyme, salt, and pepper, and simmer for 5 to 10 minutes, or until the vegetables are soft.

Pour into bowls and serve with gluten free crackers or bread.

Enjoy! xx S.

Happy as a Yam

It was dark all day today; the clouds never parted and the rain only stopped for breaths of wind to channel down through the valley. In our pyjamas and morning sleepiness, we dallied into the afternoon as breakfast stretched into lunch, lunch into dinner.

It was a nice day, I can't deny that, but now as the light fades and the fire burns brightly, I feel winter is right there, standing on the doorstep prying to wash over us again, snow, frost, and all.

I'm coming. I'm coming.

It seems to whisper as if beckoning, enticing.

Good thing I've got my nice warm coat, my dashing red, woolly headband, and my thick Roots socks to keep me warm as I venture through the trees with my dog. Good thing for my hot bean bag at night as I curl into a deep sleep. And thank goodness for the kettle, fuelling me, pushing me through, with each cup of tea.

The first Christmas craft fair of the year was held today, just a short walk down from my house, and I could see the abundance of cars lined up in the parking lot outside the building, in neat rows like received Christmas cards will start to be; one will say

Happy Holidays!

Next to another that chimes Silent Night from a small box in the centre of the card. There will be no surfaces available again this year. No longer a perch for Saturday afternoon phone calls, the window sill becomes a home for the cards each winter, and the cat jealously eyes their beneficial location, her usual kaleidoscope to the world she no longer escapes to - her bed by the fire, for some reason, is much more enticing.

I couldn't bring myself to shop Christmas already, and the people exiting with baskets of goodies, soaps with names like Gingerbread and ornaments made from shells and driftwood, donned in their handmade knitted scarves, for once didn't make me envious. I wasn't ready for the sound of Christmas carols to be blasted from a speaker made in the seventies, causing the singer's voice to waver over high notes that couldn't be interpreted properly by such ageing technology. No, today I was still enjoying autumn, playing in the leaves and baking throughout the day; cookies in the morning - gluten-free chocolate chip - and blissful brownies in the afternoon.

My friend from Northern B.C. came down last weekend, for Remembrance holiday, and as we shopped downtown, milling about the shops and going for lunch at the gallery, I noticed the amounts of Christmas stock in store front windows, the gift packages in cosmetic and soap shops that lined the shelves and overflowed onto the floor, and the largest display, an ornamental Christmas tree in The Bay with decorations of yellow and gold throughout store aisles - tinsel, candy canes and baubles.

We even saw snow that weekend.

It was on our way into town that morning, and as both of us sat snuggled on the ferry, angling ourselves away from the slight draft coming from the door, my mum texted me with exclamation and excitement in her words,

"Look outside! It's snowing!"

We peered up from inside our scarves and could barely just make out the flittering of glimmering white specs across the sky, almost invisible against the white of the clouds and through the gleam of the windows. And it certainly felt cold enough today, as we headed out the door only to return for more layers, for a light dusting of snow on the ground, or even to be woken up in the brisk air as frost covers tomorrow's morning.

Sadly, it's forecasted to rain all week. My gumboots and umbrella will remain perched beside the front door, a dim reminder of the weather outside, even as I comfortably remain in the kitchen with the fire blazing and the oven baking something wonderful.

"Today doesn't look so good, maybe I'll just stay in, warm,"

I tell myself, until mum and dad drag me out of the house, earnestly stating how much I will enjoy getting out once I've had some air, as if I were the one on the leash, and not the dog. But I always feel so much better after, they're right, and especially after the heat and dryness of indoors for so long, that begins to make you feel cooped up, even if it does seem so cozy.

So finally, even after having this family favourite numerous times, we like it for lunch on the weekend, I have found the time when other recipes haven't bombarded me to post about them (who knew that could happen) and finally sat down to post about Yam Tuna Bakes. Tuna bakes have always been a delectable comfort food, although when I became gluten-free it was time to put a twist on the old bread base, and it also gave me an opportunity to find something tastier.

Oh the delight of finding pleasure in old comforts.

Even in the morning, yam tuna bake holds a high rank.
(A message received from my sister).

Yam Tuna Bake
Print Recipe.

For rainy days, for family picnics or gatherings, I'd whip up this old favourite any day. A comforting twist on a pantry staple, yam adds lots of healthy nutrients and enjoyable flavour. It can be made ahead of time by putting the yam in the oven at 450 F for about an hour, halved and scored, or for a faster method can be microwaved until tender for few minutes. Either way, the flavour will remain.

Don't be burdened by the ingredients in the recipe either, if you haven't got something, just incorporate the vegetables that you do have, and save a little time (and money) by skipping that extra dash to the grocery store. Besides, it'll probably be busy and just take too long anyway.

When choosing yams for this recipe, I usually go for the oddly shaped ones that end up neglected at the bottom of the baskets in grocery stores. For some reason, I just love their shapes and the interesting knobs in the skin, there isn't anything wrong with them, they're just different. And for that, should be loved like any other. 

Serves 2-3

Ingredients

1 large cooked yam, sectioned into equal parts

1 can albacore tuna
1-2 tbsp mayonnaise
1 spring onion, thinly sliced
1/2 red pepper, diced
1/2 tomato, diced
salt and pepper to taste

1/4 tsp cayenne pepper, optional for a spicier taste

1/2-3/4 c grated mozzarella

Directions

Set the oven to broil, or preheat to 500 F, and set the sections of yam on a baking sheet. Set aside.

In a medium sized bowl, combine the drained tuna, mayonnaise, vegetables, and season with salt and pepper. Add cayenne if desired. Stir to combine completely.

Spoon the tuna mixture in equal amounts onto the yam halves, and sprinkle with the grated cheese.

Place the baking tray under the broiler and cook for about 5 minutes, until cheese begins to bubble but not so much that it browns.

Remove, and cool before serving.

Pumped For Pumpkin

I just saw the page views from last week on my "Pea-Nutter Butter Cookies" Recipe and jumped up, extremely excited - Indonesia to the United States to Russia! It's amazing how many people, who I never imagined, have now seen my recipes. Thank you, to everyone!

Before starting, I was reluctant because I never thought I'd be able to post every week, and stay committed enough to cook every weekend whilst taking photos, but it's become so much more exciting each time, and I approach every post with anticipation for the process. This blog has opened my eyes to things around me that I would never have taken the time to notice before; the beauty of those little things in life, such as small moments that change the day for the better, are especially amazing to experience and ones that I've come to cherish. I've come to appreciate perseverance over procrastination, as the thrill of a popular post far outweighs the comfort of having nothing change, and never taking risks.

It reminds me of the time mum, dad and I looked up from lunch one Sunday to the swaying of a large tree out front of our house. It's one of the largest alders, but tiny branches grown just last spring splayed out from the expanding trunk. Among the branches, his charcoal black coat apparent against the drab brown and golden leaves of the tree, a big squirrel and its even larger tail jumped from branch to branch with vigor and speed, and not one of us knew of his intentions. He climbed higher and higher, to the teetering branches that bounced at the slightest wind, and careened over as the squirrel bounded down the length of it.

"What's he doing!?"

Dad exclaimed, as mum cried out,

"That's amazing!"

I laughed at their excitement, as well as the humor in their expressions, both standing at the window peering up to the trees. You can tell we don't have a TV.

"He's going to get picked off by an eagle..."

Said dad, and I wondered why such a small creature would venture up so high, with so much risk of falling. So much to lose.

"He can't get any food up there can he?"

I asked, "I mean there aren't any nuts or fruit growing on those trees."

"Look he's way at the top!"

Mum shouted excitedly, dashing back to find her camera from a large pile on the counter, an array of written out recipes, pens and schoolbooks.

"That would be a great photo, you can just see the outline of him up there!"

The branch that he was perched on bent precariously under his weight, bowing down ceremoniously. I gasped as he skittered forward, down, so near to losing everything, although so close to reaching the top of the tree.

Just at that moment, with his head tucked underneath the rest of his vertically positioned body, he sprung up and landed at the end of another branch and scurried furiously along it to the trunk of the tree.

A sigh of relief. It was even better than watching a movie.

And with that, after such difficulty and precision in steps, that big squirrel, who we all doubted from the moment the branch began to give way, had completed his journey to the top. Still, his purpose remained unknown, although it seems unlikely that he intended to get a better look at the mountains, or to seek the thrill of being up so high. However to us, he overcame something unattainable. Unbelievable. Extraordinary.

Just like overcoming something in our lives, with adrenaline pumping, we set to high gear. To go. Go. Go. But for some, after days of high heart rates and busy schedules, we rise to an early morning with dropping eyelids and a lagging drive to get up and out of the house.

In contrast to the squirrel, there's nothing behind us, like the fear of falling, to push us to the top, and propel us toward the day. So, for an added boost to my Sunday morning, I combined a bit of coffee, sugar and spice and definitely that something nice! Today, as fall envelopes my senses and imagination for cooking, I scraped the last of puréed pumpkin from the container.

I didn't quite have the energy to purée my own fresh pumpkin. Yet! However Halloween is still coming, and we have not yet carved our pumpkins - so soon!

Spiced Pumpkin Lattes
Print recipe.

A vision for fall:
Crisp air and the soft, gentle glow of the sun against brightly colored leaves. Bundled in warm mittens and scarves we bound through piles of maple leaves that float blissfully through the air as we walk the trails. As gatherings with friends slowly retreat indoors from the unused patio chairs, one treat remains a consistent favorite, and everyone enjoys the comfort of a perfect blend of spices - cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg and cloves - smooth, hot, and just enough sweet.

Serves 2

Ingredients

2/3 c brewed coffee
2/3 c almond milk
1 1/3 c water
2 tbsp honey

1/4 tsp vanilla extract
2 tsp powdered cinnamon
1/2 tsp ground ginger
1/2 tsp nutmeg
1/8 tsp ground cloves

3 tbsp puréed pumpkin

Directions

On the stove top, heat the coffee, almond milk, water and honey together
until it begins to boil.

Reduce to a simmer, and add the vanilla, spices and pumpkin.

Simmer for 5-10 minutes.

Pour through a strainer a couple of times to get ride of thickness, and pour into mugs.

Serve.