A Grove of Flavor

    Fat free sounds like quite a difficult task. Well, difficult in regards to flavor. For any of us who have tackled the world of dieting, eating healthy, counting calories, and/or exercising, we all know that a substantial sacrifice is involved - a sacrifice in flavor. It’s no coincidence that chips, candy, fried chicken, etc. is not only, where great flavor seems to lie, but it can also lie gently on our wallets and pocketbooks. Yet their delicious flavors tend to lie dormant in the fat cells in our body.  In order to counteract this, the world of "fat free" emerged.

There are websites, television shows, personal trainers, etc. advertising their alternatives for a healthy lifestyle. They offer everything from supplements to recipes, in an effort to promote a healthier us. I have realized that the world is filled with fat free options: some good, some bad, some expensive, some cheap, some lacking in flavor, and some encapsulating our taste buds.

We all want food that tastes good, whether we are eating healthy or are on a budget. The concept of fat free options is invigorating, should those options meet our needs. My goal is to provide some insight on these options, from an individual scouring the world to find them for her own "trying to be healthy" lifestyle. I'm no expert, by any stretch of the imagination. But I can say I love spices, flavor, and plenty of unhealthy food choices; so, finding fat free options that make me happy and most of all, make my taste buds smile, is a challenge all on its own.  

With that being said, for those salad lovers.....I want to recommend: Maple Grove Farms of Vermont – Raspberry Vinaigrette dressing. Its fat free and has great flavor. I reside in Denver Colorado and have found this at a grocery store chain, so I assume it is accessible for individuals, regardless of location. Its also gluten free, which is an added bonus for those who need to avoid gluten in their diet. They have a wide variety of dressing selections, to meet the needs of each taste bud.

Adding this dressing (or any of their flavors) to a salad or using as a marinade can be, not only a delightful treat, but also a step towards creating or maintaining a healthier you.

 

 

Reintroduce Yourself to Tea

A Reconnecting of Americans to High Tea

When one thinks of Tea or High Tea or anything dealing with tea, they may call to mind certain images of a tea pot or even Brits enjoying a nice cup during the day or maybe you think of the Tea Party(either the real one or this new political view).  But one thing that I, as an American, have found in all my years of enjoying tea is that we are not as blessed with the expertise in tea drinking as our European counterparts.

Has this lacking in High Tea affected us that greatly?

Well maybe in many ways it has.  Tea has been replaced with coffee in the states because people find it to be a good wakeup for the day and because of the many influences around us like coffeeshops.  But what we lose from our mid-day sit-downs with the accompaniment of a snack and some tea is the calm that it brings. During a double dip recession like this, we may find ourselves wanting for a break from Everything: the stress, the anxiety, the need for money, the jobless masses, the bickering between political parties.

I know that a cup of tea on the porch or on a park bench would be more than welcoming.  And High Tea is just the thought for that.  If you love tea, or want to love tea.  Then find yourself a grocery store, or a Teavana if you are lucky enough to have a store such as this, and purchase a variety because there is in fact a "zillion" types from fruity to more traditional.  And when it comes to moods, I know we can have a zillion of those too which makes tea one of the best things to have according to our endless moods.

So why not sit down and enjoy a nice warm/cold cup of tea.  It may sound pompous but let that idea not bog you down, for just those few minutes that you are able to enjoy a cup, you will forget the worries of the day and be able to breathe.  Isn't that all we are hoping for anymore, a chance to breathe and smile again?

Hot New Food Trend: Wood Pulp!

That's right, the hottest thing to hit the grocery store aisles, this year's break-out star, is cellulose. Better known as "wood pulp," this leftover of the timber industry is now being cleverly repurposed as a food ingredient. It's true!
Now granted, humans cannot digest cellulose. And sure, it's a tasteless filler that bulks out your processed food products without adding any value to the consumer. But hey, the FDA says it's harmless, so go nuts!
Got wood pulp?
The Street has a fascinating slide show illustrating which products actually contain wood pulp. Having eaten some of the listed products in the recent past, I have to say: I am not surprised. (Zing!)
I was surprised to see an industry spokesman waxing so poetic over the industry's enthusiastic adoption of wood pulp as a food ingredient. It will help you shed those extra pounds! Really fast! Because it's indigestible fiber! You like fiber, right? You guys buy stuff with fiber all the time! Why not skip a step, and just eat ground up paper meal instead?
We've secretly replaced these diners' food with wood pulp! Let's see if they notice!
Granted, that's what he gets paid for. But I was still pretty impressed to see someone extolling the virtues of something which is clearly virtue-less for the consumer. It's obviously quite virtuous for the producers, who get to sell you the same size food at the same price, but with a bunch of the actual food content replaced with cheap, cheap wood pulp.
Wood pulp: it's what's for dinner!
If you ask someone like Michael Pollan, I'm sure they would say that this is just the most obvious manifestation of a long-standing problem. Pollan's phrase "edible food-like substance" comes to mind. Except in this case, I'm not sure if you could call wood pulp "edible."
It reminds me of the "swill milk" scandals of the 1800s, when sub-par milk was artificially whitened using ingredients like chalk. I'm sure those guys had a pretty good explanation at hand, too. Chalk: it builds strong bones and healthy bodies!
You could argue that anyone who voluntarily eats (e.g.) Pillsbury Buffalo Chicken Crescent Pastry Puffs deserves their fate. But Weight Watchers ice cream bars? Really? And I just learned that the Betty Crocker SuperMoist yellow cake mix that I bought at the store (only $1.25 a box!) contains wood pulp, too. So I guess you can flatten my thorax and call me a termite, because I eat wood pulp, too.
Wait long enough and I'm willing to bet all our food will be heavy on the wood pulp!
 

Twinings Changes Earl Grey Formula

Twinings literally invented Earl Grey tea, for all intents and purposes. The origin story is a little bit muddled, but what's clear is that Twinings was the first to market the blend of black tea and oil of bergamot as "Earl Grey Tea," back in the 1830s. The formula has remained unchanged since then… until last April, when for reasons unknown, Twinings tweaked the formula and changed the name to "The Earl Grey."
It was what marketers called a "soft launch." Twinings just quietly began shipping "The Earl Grey" in place of their original Earl Grey tea. And believe you me, customers noticed. Many people tell anecdotes about assuming that their tea had gone off somehow, or that someone had accidentally given them a cup of the wrong thing.
When it came to light, thanks largely to the UK tabloid The Daily Mail, it exploded. One thing you can say for sure about the English: they take their Earl Grey tea - and their history - very seriously. You can't just go around messing with the formula for something that has remained unchanged and beloved since 1830! Not without expecting a lot of complaints. A LOT.
This new version of Earl Grey contains "citrus flavor." Which confuses me, because I thought that's what Lady Grey tea was: Earl Grey with citrus. I guess not, though, because they're still selling Lady Grey as a separate line.
As far as most people are concerned (myself included), if it isn't just black tea and bergamot, it isn't Earl Grey. It can be some other delicious tea, but you can't call it Earl Grey. You just can't. And the fact that Twinings does is nothing less than an affront to the very foundations of tea-dom.
Americans are still a little sore over the New Coke fiasco. In the late 1980s, Coke decided to change their formula, too. After a few years of rapidly declining sales and customer outrage, they finally phased out New Coke in favor of Coke Classic. Except for one change: now instead of sugar, it contained corn syrup. A lot of people (myself included) think that the whole thing was part of their plan to wean people off sugar and slip in the less expensive HFCS. (While keeping the soda the same price, of course!)
I can't see how Twinings might be planning something like that, but I wouldn't put it past them. Sorry, England: I guess now you have your own New Coke story to tell through the ages!
 

Pringles Vs. Lays STAX

Earlier this year I reviewed Lays STAX, a potato "crisp" which was, according to Wikipedia, intended to challenge the dominance of Pringles in the potato "crisp" market. I have tried STAX a few times since then (they keep going on sale right when I am at my weakest) and my impressions have remained the same: too mushy, too many broken chips, too flavorful.
Yes, "too flavorful" is a problem. Particularly in the snack aisle. How much Dorito powder do you need on your chip before you consider it adequately flavored? As an adult pushing 40, I have to say the answer is "less than they think, obviously."
Furthermore, the overabundance of flavoring discourages repeat snacking. When each chip tastes like a punch in the face, you're less inclined to eat the entire column. Is that really what they want? (I am reminded of something I read in a Malcolm Gladwell book, about how Pepsi designed their taste to be better in the first sip, thus winning taste tests. But Coke designed their taste to be better over the course of the entire can, thus winning market share.)
This time at the drug store Pringles were on sale, and I decided it was high time to return to the snack discussion at hand. The first thing I noticed, upon scrutinizing the Pringles tube, was their mascot. This oval-headed mustachioed fellow gazes up and to the right, his face a vision of hopefulness. He looks optimistic and idealistic and thoroughly adorable.
My memory served me well with regards to the chips. They are thinner, and have a better crunch than Lays STAX. Their flavor is also more mild, and better distributed throughout the chip (rather than just in a powder sitting atop the upper surface).
Revolting though these "scientifically engineered processed potato starch crisps" may be, they sure are delicious. A lot of food science technology and research goes into creating these things, which is kind of a scary thought if you stop to think about it. It brings to mind terms like "hyper-palatability." These crisps (legally they cannot be called "chips") are the kind of thing that makes Michael Pollan cry.
In fact, another phrase which occurred to me as I sampled them (Ranch flavor - and very delicious) was Pollan's "edible food-like substance." Pringles, developed by Scientists in the 1960s with the aid of supercomputers and many, many patents. In contrast to (e.g.) a potato, which has nutrients and is also a thing you can picture in your mind, unlike, say, "modified food starch."
Still better than Lays STAX, though.

Road Trip Granola

Homemade snacks for long car rides

 

It's been road trip season for me. I just completed a miniature sweep of the east coast, surveying mountains, oceans, and state-run liquor stores. Now I'm about to embark on a journey from the Windy City to the Twin Cities. I've a special fondness for long distance driving--even in inclement weather when I'm plowing through dual snowstorms acutely aware of the fact that I'm a jerk of the wheel away from veering into an embankment. Highways hold some splendid adventures and I'm always excited to explore more of this overgrown sprawl of a nation. So to Minnesota it is for the first time in my life, and about time, too. 

Of course, it wouldn't be a road trip proper if I didn't first equip myself with road snacks. Gas station snackage works in a pinch but tends to get pricey and/or repulsive, so I like to plan ahead with an evening of hurried baking prior to my departure. I just put an old staple of mine out to cool; by the time I get up, it'll be ready to cut and Ziploc away. I call it just 'granola' because despite my best efforts to mold it into bars, it likes to break up and flake off into awkward, shapeless chunks that hardly resemble rectangles even at their shapeliest. They've got the taste and texture of homemade granola bars down, but something about the bar format just doesn't sit right with these guys--at least not under my knife. I usually just end up breaking them apart by hand old-school style. Oh well. They're tasty, healthy, and easily scrounged for from behind the wheel, even if they do get your fingers unreasonably sticky. 

My granola masses are sort of a Frankensteined take on the Barefoot Contessa's. She uses crazy stuff like shredded coconut in hers, and not being a huge coconut guy myself (and never needing it for any other recipe, ever) I tend to skip out on that bit. I like to throw in a little chocolate in its stead, being an eternal 6th grader whose image of the perfect granola bar stems from the gooey, prepackaged junk that served as elementary school snack time way back in the day. Old habits die hard, but I find the way the chips melt and swirl into the glue of the bars to taste even better than anything Quaker Oats could cobble together. 

Here's what you're going to need:

  • 2 cups oatmeal (old-fashioned, not quick-cooking, although I suppose not all would be lost if you only had the finer stuff)
  • 1 cup sliced almonds (optional--I include them about half the time)
  • 1/2 cup toasted wheat germ
  • 2/3 cup honey
  • 1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
  • 1/4 salt
  • Whole buncha dried fruit (about 1 1/2 cups--I like cranberries, golden raisins, and chopped dates, but do what makes you feel good)
  • Smattering of dark chocolate chips (I prefer to use the tiny kind--melts easier, looks neat)

Heat up the oven to 350. On a big old cookie sheet (mine is not big enough for this task and so it takes longer than it should) toast the oats and almonds if you're using them. Stir them up every so often. This should take about 12 minutes, although I always let them get a little toastier than that. You should know by the smell when they're ready. Pour them into a big bowl, stir in the wheat germ, and reduce the oven heat to 300. Drip the honey over the dry mixture while it's still hot and stir until it's all glued together. Add in the fruit and the chocolate. Pour everything into a buttered, parchment papered baking disk (8x12 or so). Wet your fingers and slam that goo down until it's perfectly dense. Bake for 20-30 minutes (you can do 15 if you like em real chewy--30 will give you crunchy bars). Take out the pan and let it cool/coagulate for at least 2 hours before cutting (or sloppily breaking) the granola into pieces. Enjoy on all your travels. 

Kale Wontons

Sneaking superfoods into crispy goodness

One of my favorite games is hiding healthy superfoods inside ridiculously unhealthy packages. Then I eat the whole thing with reckless abandon all the while pretending that it's 100% good for me. This sort of self-delusion is pervasive and stubborn and applies to most things I like putting in my face. Blueberry pie? Healthy. Got blueberries in it. Banana bread? Healthy. Bananas. Potassium. Even the gooiest, most sugary chocolate cake has got eggs in it, and eggs are good for you, especially if you buy the Omega-3 enriched kind. It's not a diabetes bomb, it's an Omega-3 cake. Healthy. 

But some superfoods are tricky to sneak in to palatable menu items. The one I've been struggling with the longest is kale. I want to like it so badly. It's a dark, leafy green packed to the brim with nutrients and all sorts of things that keep me alive. It even looks cool, all bunched up in wrinkly clusters. It's the most structurally integral green, making spinach and chard look like weak, floppy has-beens. But that taste--that taste is so darn strong.

And not good-strong, like garlic or romaine. It's oddly bitter. As far as the greens family goes, kale is that awkward cousin that hangs around its more socially competent relatives but never quite gets their jokes. It can't compete with the delicate sweetness of bok-choy or the easy salad compatibility of baby spinach. I've tried cooking it, I've tried blending it into smoothies, I've tried making chips out of it. It never quite loses that hard, scraping bite that makes it stand out from all its surrounding flavors.

But I wanted to eat it somehow, if just to prove that I could. And so while scouring my nearly barren fridge after a week-long vacation, I came up with a plot not only to use up the odd items I had left over, but to make kale delicious. Thus a devious scheme arose: I was going to make kale wontons, dammit.

I was inspired in no small part by the abundance of wonton wrappers I had lying in the back of my fridge. There was a 2-for-1 special at Jewel when we were making salmon wontons and we got carried away. With possibly hundreds of leftover wrappers, I had to do something to ensure my bargain purchase did not go to waste. And so I embarked upon frying kale into something so crispy and delicious I would never even recognize it.

Not by itself, of course. Wontons filled purely with kale would be a little ick. What I did was this: I sauteed the green in a little oil to soften it, then shredded it to oblivion. No more stiff veiny architecture, just an oily green pulp. I then mashed it in a bowl with some room-temperature cream cheese--also leftover from our previous wonton adventures. In a perfect world, I probably would have used goat cheese, but I was in scrounge mode. I gave it a splash of lemon and a little salt and I had my filling. I spooned it into wrappers, folded them over, and pan-fried them in some olive oil (which in retrospect was too heavy for frying--I'd use coconut or soybean oil next time). The result? Not bad at all. Granted, I started with some fairly mild kale, but I do think even its typically obnoxious flavor would do nicely fried to a crisp alongside some chevre. I'd improve my ingredients if I were to redo the recipe for real and not just as a fridge emptying technique, but for a foray into undocumented recipe territory, I'd say it was pretty damn tasty. 

Ode to Caramelized Onions

Last weekend I accidentally solved a mystery and a problem which has been plaguing me for my whole life. Well, really for the last 10 years of it, when I started actually cooking food (as opposed to just preparing packaged and frozen food for every meal).
Ready for it? I learned that caramelized and sautéed onions are not the same thing.
I know, right? Everybody knows that, sheesh! Well, except for me. What can I say? I'm a slow learner when it comes to cooking.
All along I have been making sautéed onions, and wondering why they weren't as good as the caramelized onions I had eaten elsewhere. Like at my favorite diner, where they top a patty melt with pure deliciousness.
About five years ago, I learned how to sautee onions from a genuine chef. As in, someone who had both graduated from the CIA and been the head chef at a major urban restaurant. My previous attempts at sautéing onions had only resulted in a sloppy, pale mess. He showed me that the key to sautéing onions properly is:
  • High heat
  • Low oil

"High and dry" was the phrase that he used. The high heat is necessary, because otherwise the onions sweat out so much liquid that they end up drowning themselves. The same goes for using a minimum of oil - add too much, and you end up with a sloppy mess.
Sauteed onions, as delicious as they are, are not the same as caramelized onions. When you caramelize onions, you end up with a pile of onions so tender that they are practically creamy. The color is darker, too - ideally, somewhere around the color of milk chocolate. And they are sweet, with the onion's sugar having been, well, caramelized.
To get caramelized onions, the key is to cook them "low and slow." It should take at least half an hour for your onions to caramelize, so set your stove to whatever temperature will accomplish that. On mine it's medium-low, or halfway between 2 and 3.
For most of the cooking process, only turn the onions occasionally. Every five minutes, or even less often. You want them to brown nicely! Add some salt, and you can also add a pinch of sugar if you think they need it. (Some onions are a lot more harsh and less sweet than others.)
At the end, after the onions have nicely browned, deglaze the pan with some water, chicken stock, or white wine. Crank up the heat, pour in a bit of liquid, and let it bubble while you scrape the good stuff off the bottom of the pan.
Delicious!

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