Pancake Tuesday

It's my favorite Tuesday of February. It's Fat Tuesday. It's Pancake Tuesday. It's Morri-is-really-trying-to-be-on-here-more-so-bear-with-her-Tuesday.

Pancakes were the start of Meals with Morri, which is weird since I'm actually a waffle person. CK and I get into "arguments" about what is a pancake and what isn't, what is a regular sized pancake and what is ridiculous gargantuan Midwestern proportions.

It keeps us interesting, I suppose.

Aside from it being Pancake Day and sharing/eating a recipe, I wanted to find a way to share the fun with my two buns without them eating food that isn't particularly healthy for them (sadly, pancakes the way I like them is exactly that). February is Adopt a Rescued Rabbit month, and our three month since adoption is this coming Monday, so needless to say I'd like them to enjoy it too.

Fat Tuesday Salad for Rabbits

Handful of Greens: Romaine hearts, mixed greens, dandelion leaves (1 handful per rabbit)
Grated carrot (1 tbsp. per rabbit)
Chopped mango (1 tsp.)
Sliced blueberries (1tsp.)
1/4 - 1/3 tsp. rolled oats (as a treat)

Put together the ingredients as artfully as possible. 

Serve to your bunny overlords. 

Take photos of the cuteness.

Rabbits are interesting roommates, and if you feel you can hold up to a 10+ year commitment with one or two (or more) of these small creatures, go visit your local rescue. At my local HRS chapter, they usually suggest fostering first (although experience with rabbit care is mandatory), where they provide the cage, the food, and pay for additional medical expenses. Fostering means you've provided a safe place for them to grow and socialize and learn, and in return you see whether or not rabbits are right for you in the long term.

The term 'foster failure' is a thing for a reason.

I've always identified as a cat person, but there's something about the growing relationship you develop with your rabbits that really tugs at my heart. I have had to learn to not worry so much. I have had to get down on their level. I have had to self-reflect and be compassionate whenever they are feeling a certain way. I have had to be accountable and selfless and honor who they are now instead of what I want them to be.

It's kind of like having children... vegan children who poop outside their litter pans sometimes.

All rabbits are different, but I assure you that, in the right home, with the right family, with the right mindset, they make fantastic additions to the family. Adopt, don't shop, and eat pancakes... however you defined them.

Socca (recipe from Wikibooks)
150 g chickpea flour
250 ml water
1 tbsp. Olive oil
1/2 tsp. Sea salt
Black pepper, to taste (I did 1/4 tsp.)

Preheat oven to at least 480°F (around 300°C / 570°F is traditional, but whatever your oven can manage that gets close to this).

Option 1: If using a cast-iron pan, get it into the oven at the start so that it is hot when the batter goes into it.

Option 2: If using a ceramic baking dish (at least 9" in diameter), line it with olive oil and set aside (this is what I did).
Whisk the ingredients together well or put through the blender, ensuring there are no lumps. 

Option 1: Pour the batter into the HOT cast-iron pan and bake for 15 minutes (results are crispier). 

Option 2: Pour into the baking dish and place into the oven to back for 15 minutes (results are creamier center). 

Remove from the oven and cut into triangular wedges. 

Serve hot.

Makes 2 servings.

Eating Cake on the Rooftop

On at least three separate occasions I have been asked if I’m still doing Meals with Morri. The short answer is yes. The longer answer obviously has more to it than that. 

When I first started, I was cooking and posting and writing on the regular, and in doing so I learned how to cook and post and write. I met a lot of talented and amazing people along the way. Companies and publishers reached out to me to write reviews for their products and cookbook authors. I learned to be picky, and when to say no.

But with the evolution of Meals with Morri, particularly the person behind it (i.e., yours truly), I started to become very critical of my art. If it wasn’t something I thought people wouldn’t like, it wasn’t posted. If the photos I took were not good enough, the recipe itself would have to wait. This doesn’t particularly bother me, because I have really blossomed with the food I’ve made, and the stories I’ve written about them have refined. The problem I am facing now is the realization as to why I love to cook, and why Meals with Morri has been lacking in recipes per month recently.

My motivation in making food is just that: making food. Not for me, but to share with others. Eating the same food with other people is such an important ritual for me. It’s a sacred act of connecting with others at the table. I had experienced a similar revelation while I was in Malta. When I lived alone, I just made food. There was nothing more to it than insuring I was eating enough. But when CK and I visited each other or I made food for the office, suddenly the creative juices were flowing in overdrive. And perhaps the underlying reason is to validate my art, to see that Meals with Morri was doing something positive in person. But really, I’ve come to realize that, like my previous aspirations to be a chef, I really love it when people eat and enjoy the food I make for them. 

Living with my parents after over a year of not doing so has meant that what they eat and what I eat doesn’t mesh as often as it used to when it was my responsibility to make dinner for the family. There’s nothing wrong with this, of course, but not sharing food I make with other people has affected my motivation to create and share recipes online. I like there being a reason for my art, and I want to experience that shared moment in person, in real time. CK and our two dear friends H and J have risen to the challenge in helping me see that it's equally important for me to enjoy my art, and are more than willing to help give me ideas in what to make (thanks, guys).

Last night, I was invited to a friend’s birthday party, and although I wasn’t asked, I made a cake that I knew I’d be able to eat. It was a rooftop party, one that overlooked other Washington, D.C. apartments and offices, the Washington Monument blinking lazily far away. The already present cupcakes had been eaten, and to my surprise, my cake was used to sing to him “Happy Birthday” (which I unashamedly conspired with his girlfriend in making happen). The cake was said to be quite good, and only a few people knew that it was gluten free. 

Rooftop Carrot Cake with Honey Sweetened Cream Cheese Frosting

For the cake
120 g White rice flour*
1/2 tsp. Baking soda**
1 tsp. Cream of tartar**
1/4 tsp. sea salt
1 tsp. cinnamon
2 eggs
1 tsp. Vanilla extract
150 ml olive oil
200 g coconut sugar
5 Carrots, grated

Preheat the oven to 350°F, and grease (I used butter) and flour (I used the white rice flour) one 9-inch pan.
In a medium bowl, sift together the rice flour, baking soda, cream of tartar, sea salt and cinnamon.
In the bowl of a stand mixer (or a larger bowl with a hand mixer), combine the eggs, olive oil, coconut sugar, and vanilla, and beat on medium-low speed until the mixture is slightly frothy.
Reduce the speed to low, and add the flour mixture in small increments, making sure to scrape down the sides of the bowl with a rubber spatula each time.
Stir in the grated carrots, mixing until combined, and pour the batter into the prepared baking pan.
Bake for 40 - 50 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center of the cake comes out clean (for me, this was 50 minutes).
Let the cake cool in the pan for 10 minutes, and then turn out onto a parchment lined wire rack to cool completely.
Once cooled, decorate the cake with frosting and other toppings you may enjoy (such as unsweetened coconut shavings).

Makes 1 cake, or 12 slices.

For the frosting (courtesy of this recipe)
8 oz package or 240 g Cream cheese, softened
56 g Unsalted butter, softened
85 g Honey
Unsweetened coconut shavings, as topping (optional)

Whip the cream cheese in a standing mixer until soft, then add the butter and honey to blend.
Mix on medium speed until smooth and creamy.

Makes 12 – 18 servings.

* NOT to be confused with sweet rice flour. If you do, you’ll get a mochi-like consistency.

** The baking powder equivalent is 1 1/2 tsp.

Don't Crowd the Mushrooms, Among Other Things

Around the same time last year, I experienced something along the lines of depression and anxiety. I tend to not admit it. I tend to not use the “d” word at all. After all, what did I have to be depressed about? I was living abroad, making a name for myself. Or, rather, I was learning what it meant to do the job in front of me because it needed doing. In February of last year, I developed Secondary Traumatic Stress (a similar beast to Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, but one typically seen in those helping people who experienced trauma firsthand) in an effort to help out on a project the NGO I interned at managed.

It has been a growing year for me since then.

In March of this year, I had gotten sick with probably one of the longest running bugs I’ve had in a while. And that turned into a terrible sinus infection, which in turn lasted another two weeks with an on again, off again fever. All motivation to do the things I enjoyed went out the window. No Insanity with CK. No Meals with Morri posts (or celebration of its fourth birthday, for that matter). No art. No job applications. Nothing.

My weakened immune system brought me back to how I felt last year, and the lack of interest from potential employers made it worse.

I write about this because I think it’s important. Meals with Morri is, first and foremost, a site about living healthfully with food sensitivities. But it’s also a place where I write about other health issues, like hypothyroidism, disordered eating, and stress.

In Malta, I kept my emotional pain relatively quiet (with the exception of CK, my parents, certain friends, and my therapist). I was living alone and on my own for the first time. I was finishing up grad school. I was working in a country on issues that were highly contentious and subject to scorn. Outside of work, I didn’t have a social life because I found it hard to assimilate and integrate with the culture). It was a hard lesson in learning to be alone and honest with myself.

Fast forward to today. I’m in Rome for twelve more days, living with an amazing human being that I refer to as my Partner with a capital ‘p’. I’ve volunteered my time and expertise at his school to get out of the apartment. I’ve improved as an artist, a cook, and as a writer. I’ve applied for jobs everywhere.

Depression isn’t logical. I am aware of my privilege. I have supportive friends, and I’ve grown as a person because of my experiences. But there would be days where I go through job listing sites like Idealist.org or Indeed.com and come up with nothing. Until recently, the idea of sending an email to another potential employer only to be ignored would bring me to tears, staring at the computer screen with blurred vision as the anxiety and worthlessness feeling grew. If you are presently searching for employment or had a hard time finding a job, you’ll know how detrimental it can be when your inbox is empty, and no one seems interested in what you can offer both their mission and their office.

But as I’ve said, I’ve been able to volunteer my time at CK’s school in more ways than I could have ever hoped for. It has validated my self-worth in that, despite the empty inbox, what I can and do contribute to the world (even to one person's world) matters. 

Upcoming post: the importance of school gardens

This funk has made it that much harder for me to do things that I clearly love doing, including Meals with Morri posts. The turning point for me was realizing that it was affecting my physical health too.

I know gaining 1.6 pounds isn’t a lot in retrospect, especially since the body fluctuates that amount on any given day. Regardless, I had gained 1.6 pounds, and it bugged me. It had nothing to do with the number and everything to what it represented. To me, it represented my depression affecting me in a very real way with very real consequences. I love physical activity. I love working out. I love being creative. And seeing that number gave me two ways of dealing with it: I could either turn it inward and accept it, beating myself even further to feeling lower than low; or I could say “f*ck that” and take charge. I chose the latter, and with it I had to be prepared to hold myself accountable.

I can’t control whether or not an employer wants to hire me. It’s a vulnerable position to apply for jobs, and that can’t be helped. But what I can do is make my first impression, that is, my cover letter and résumé, a labor of love. I can send them in and be able to say, “I wrote these to the best of my ability, with sincerity and integrity, and that’s something to be proud of.” Sure, it may also mean being downcast when they don’t get back to me, but that just means the right job will.

I can also control how I manage my time. I can sit around and mope, or I can actively seek out someone to talk to. I can work on my art or read another Terry Pratchett (Gods, I miss this man) novel. I can do Insanity instead of napping away the day in an effort to avoid my anger, disappointment, and sadness. I can stop comparing myself to others and instead focus on the positive as well as the things I can control.

I can control how many jobs I apply to. I can control how much time I put into my art and physical health. I can control how often I post on Meals with Morri.

Never let depression ruin your progress. Never let it win. Experience it. Work through it. But in the end, you can and will triumph.

This recipe isn’t particularly relevant to what I’ve written, only that I’ve been meaning to post it for weeks now and wanted to take those first crucial steps in overcoming my funk. It is more of a technique than a recipe. But if you learn anything from today, learn this invaluable tip: Don’t crowd the mushrooms in the pan.

Flawlessly Pan-Fried Mushrooms

400 g Mushrooms of your choice
Olive oil, for the pan
Sea salt

As I said, this is more of a technique than a recipe, but it’s an easy way to dazzle dinner guests. I’ve done this technique with three types of mushrooms: oyster, white button, and a long stemmed, small hooded mushroom that came in clumps and various sizes (I’ll update the name when/if I can find it). All where prepared and cooked similarly, and I have to say I’ve come to appreciate mushrooms by themselves because of this technique.

When you take the mushrooms out of the package, the first thing you do is cut the bottom roots and clean off the remaining debris from its initial picking with a dry paper towel. This is important. If you do end up wetting the mushrooms (they soak up moisture like a sponge, leading to a soggy product, which we do not want), let them sit on the counter to dry out for fifteen minutes or so.

Now, you can keep the stems on or remove them depending on your preference, but it’s up to you. You can also slice them in any shape or simply leave them whole. How you prepare them will determine the cooking time, so be aware of that. What I typically do is, if possible, cut them into quarters to get ultimate browning and body with every bite.

Once the mushrooms are cut, place a large sauté pan on the burner on high heat. When the pan itself is hot, pour a decent amount of olive oil at the bottom of the pan, enough to coat the bottom evenly but not thickly. Toss the mushrooms in, lower the heat slightly (not by much, around medium-high), but be sure that each piece has room. This is extremely important for perfectly cooked browned mushroom: do not crowd the pan with them. This may mean cooking them in batches. And since the mushrooms won’t be crowded, the liquid they do give off will evaporate, leaving soft, browned deliciousness in the pan. 

Stir with a wooden spoon or spatula and shake the pan once in a while. You will know you are doing the recipe right if the pan starts to look dry and the mushrooms sound like they’re squeaking. If it looks like the mushrooms are smoking, DO NOT ADD WATER. Instead, turn on the exhaust fan and maybe add a little more oil.

Once evenly browned, pour onto a serving plate and sprinkle sea salt on top. Repeat if you have more batches to cook (add oil every time). Serve hot as a side dish or simply eat as is. Yes, they’re that good.

This makes two servings… if you’re willing to share, that is.

Ti Amo, Roma: Life Changing Pizza

There is something about Rome, about the Italian people, really, that truly opens your eyes. Every culture has contributed and continues to contribute positively to the world, and it feels like I never really understood the joy of eating until I came here.

I will be here until May, and during this time I’ve broken down my goals to certain days of the week. While CK is off teaching, I’m at home job searching, learning chemistry, practicing Italian and Irish, working on my drawing technique, light housework and, of course, cooking.

The way Italians think about food is contagious. They know how to eat and how to enjoy it with others. There is such pride in their food. It is fresh, wholesome, simple, and traceable (I mean, how would you not be able to visit the place of your favorite cheese if they didn’t). But the simplicity of their dishes brings out the complexity of flavor. You can taste and name every ingredient, and all the while feeling daring.

Having CK as a partner has encouraged me to try new things, mostly because his willingness to participate, and has been wonderfully supportive of me facing my fears about food. Over Valentine’s Day weekend, we made donuts. They were delicious flops, completely oil-filled and cakey, but for the first time in years I had a deep fried, sugary food.

Another weird thing about me is that I struggle with the idea of more than one carbohydrate being on a plate. That would mean no bread to soak up the remaining red sauce from a pasta dish at dinner (if I could), or have waffles and hash browns as part of the same breakfast, or rice and potatoes in the same stew. It wasn’t to the point of me squealing in disgust, but the concept just didn’t make sense to me. It was weird and oddly frightening.

In Italy there is a type of pizza called pizza patate: a white pizza with, you guessed it, potatoes on top. When CK first described the dish to me, I was appalled. Why on Earth would you do that? What was the appeal? Did it even taste good? To which CK replied yes, indeed it does.

I’ve experienced a lot of healing moments since 2014. Despite the hardship of living alone in Malta, I came to really feel connected to my body and honoring its needs for the first time. Food was no longer something to be afraid of, but embraced and shared. And I fully admit that Italian cheeses have ruined it for me: I’ve yet to taste better than my first Mozzarella di Bufala Compana ball, or the sacred moment of placing a melty forkful of smoked Scamorza straight from the hot oven and into my mouth.

Since having the donut, and seeing that the world did not, in fact, end, I wanted to see what else my fears of food deprived me off. And for over a year, CK and I would talk about pizza patate in passing, and for the first time since then, I wasn’t squicked by the idea, but rather intrigued.

Last weekend, as we were recovering from Week 1 of Shaun T’s Insanity workout (yep, we’re both doing it!), we wanted to celebrate with a thin pizza. Surprisingly, I think I said I wanted to see what pizza patate was all about, and so that is what we did.

We think we can improve the toppings a bit, but the crust… the crust was a game changer.

Both CK and I believe it is the best we’ve ever made, and most certainly the best that I’ve ever had. It held together beautifully, and the taste reminded me of a good, thin pizza crust. We do want to play around with the rise, perhaps using sparkling water instead of still (this trick is wonderful for bagels, by the way), but we’ll keep you updated. We also used this dough to make a huge, albiet bursting, calzona. 

Thin Pizza Crust (recipe ratio and technique adapted from this recipe)

1 package Active dry or fresh yeast
1 tsp. Honey (use coconut sugar for a vegan option)
240 ml warm water, 105-115°F (40-46°C)
120 g Teff flour
120 g Glutinous rice flour
120 g Chickpea flour
1 tsp. Sea salt
1 tbsp. Extra-virgin olive oil, plus additional for brushing

In a small bowl, dissolve the yeast and honey in 60 ml warm water.
In a large bowl, combine the flour and the salt, then add the oil, the yeast mixture, and the remaining 180 ml of water.
Mix until the entire mixture forms a ball.
Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface.
Knead by hand until the dough is smooth and firm.
Cover the dough with a clean, damp towel and let it rise in a cool spot for about 2 hours.
Divide the dough into 2 balls.
Work each ball by pulling down the sides and tucking under the bottom of the ball.
Repeat 4 or 5 times, and then on a smooth, clean surface (not floured), roll the ball under the palm of your hand until the top of the dough is smooth and firm.
Cover the dough with a damp towel and let rest 1 hour. (At this point, the balls can be wrapped in plastic and refrigerated for up to 2 days.)
Preheat oven to 500°F (260°C) or highest temp.
Lightly oil a medium-large cookie sheet with extra-virgin olive oil on parchment paper.
Roll out one of the dough ball, on a lightly floured surface (I typically use a roller for this part), to the shape of your cookie sheet.
Carefully transfer dough to cookie sheet, lightly press and stretch out to the edges of sheet.
Add your favorite sauce (not too much) and toppings (again, not too much).
Cook for 10 - 12 minutes or more depending on the thickness of crust due to size of pan you used.

Each pizza ball makes 1 pizza, or two servings.

Soup for Sick Days

As a kid, I was sick a lot. Migraines, struggling to keep anything down, fevers – this was just the typical thing I experienced year after year. It did get better after a time, but even now I know I am more susceptible to getting sick than most people. 

Luckily, whenever I get sick these days, it has more to do with crashing from exerting more energy than is healthy than migraines. I admit it: I tend to push myself hard, believing that I can do it all within a twenty-four-hour time limit. The result is much like a hangover without the fun, only it lasts for days.

CK has really been good about calling me on it when I show the signs (manic movements, voice at a breathless, higher pitch, unable to sit still, cycling over all the things I need to be doing, etc.), but I’ve also just improved with growing to honor and love my body and what it needs. I really excelled with this in Malta: being okay with being at home most weekends (eventually), and doing my own thing. I learned to actually rest and take care of myself.

But sometimes, you have deadlines. You have exams. You have work. In short, you have responsibilities that you have to deal with, and sometimes you end up paying for it.

The best way I’ve learned to combat that, when you are first able, is to focus on the responsibility of taking care of yourself. If possible, no energy is exerted on others, be it people or projects. Have a quiet day or, as Mama Dazz used to call them, a mental health day. If possible, spend the whole weekend recharging. For me, that’s essentially settling down to a good book or movie, cuddling with kitties (or CK, whichever is available), sleeping in and eating well.

Introducing the newest addition to our family, Clyde! He's got the right idea...

Even as a kid, soup was the go-to meal for when I was sick. That, and tea (lots of lemon and even more honey). But soup was comforting. I had specific mugs that I would use depending on the soup, and I tended to prefer blended soups, particularly tomato. Occasionally, I would have chicken noodle soup, or clam chowder if my stomach could manage, but it honestly depended on what was in the pantry.

"There better be a good reason why your camera is in my face, Morri..."

Since becoming flexitarian, I’ve looked at unmeatifying would be meaty favorites. I’ve made bean burgers that I loved, I've always been okay with a hearty bean chili, and I’m looking to make “clam” chowder with oyster mushrooms at some point. But what I really wanted to try out next was to make chicken noodle soup, just without the chicken.

This chickpea noodle soup recipe is fairly open-ended to what noodles you like and what spices you have on hand. Add whatever is soothing and comforting to you and what you need in it, including the amount of noodles you want per person. This is also a recipe for two, whether it’s for you for a couple of meals, a mental health day with your SO, or any veggie-inclined kid that just needs something warm to go with their cartoons.

Chickpea Noodle Soup

300 g Cooked chickpeas
2 Celery stalks, thinly sliced
2 Carrots, thinly sliced
1 Yellow onion, diced
2 – 4 Garlic cloves, coarsely chopped
1 Q. Vegetable stock (or water)
2 tbsp. Olive oil
1 Bay leaf
1 dash Tarragon
1 tbsp. Parsley
Sea salt, to taste
Cracked pepper, to taste
Hot sauce, optional*
150 g (or more) Dry GF spaghetti noodles**, cooked per instructions

Place a medium-sized cooking pot (enough to hold over a quart of liquid, the veggies, and chickpeas) on medium heat with the olive oil.
When fragrant, toss in the vegetables and let cook until the onions are translucent.
Pour remaining ingredients, excluding the noodles and the hot sauce, on medium-low heat for thirty minutes.
During that time, prepare a larger pot with water for the noodles and bring to a boil.
Cook them as instructed and pour the excess water through the colander, and place the desired amount of noodles at the bottoms of the bowls you are using.
Turn off the soup (the veggies should be soft but not falling apart), and pour the soup on top of the noodles.
Serve hot with hot sauce.***

Makes 2 servings.

* I mean, I guess it’s optional… Just kidding ;). I personally like a little kick with soups like this, but to each their own.

** You can easily use any type of noodle you’d like for this dish, but I decided to use spaghetti for the sake of nostalgia. 

*** This is also a good bread-on-the-side dipping soup.

A Review of Silvana's Gluten-free and Dairy-free Kitchen: Timeless Favorites Transformed

As a blogger, I have been fortunate to meet many people from all over the world. For a while, I participated in the Gluten Free Ratio Rally, along with quite a few well-known names and faces in the community. Many of us are only known through our websites and recipes, but some of us have become celebrated authors of cookbooks and public speakers. That is a dream for many: to contribute to this food movement that promotes safety, health, and most importantly, fun in the kitchen.

Today, I have the privilege to not only talk about one such individual, but to review her latest cookbook.

 See for yourself on Amazon.com today!

Of all the famous gluten free bloggers out there, Silvana Nardone of Silvana’s Kitchen is one of the most prominent, next to Shauna and Danny Ahern (Gluten Free Girl and the Chef), Elana of Elana’s Pantry (Paleo-oriented, but one of the first gluten-free blogs I started reading), Lexie of Lexie’s Kitchen, and Kelly of the Spunky Coconut. She is also one of the few that I reached out to early on in my blogging and, to my pleasant surprise, she responded. Her story is about family, and bringing delicious, wholesome food to the table.

The site Silvana’s Kitchen has been around since July 2010. Her eldest child, Isaiah (now seventeen), was diagnosed with a double whammy of intolerances to gluten and dairy at 10, and it had become the drive in which Silvana’s Kitchen transformed and her recipes were first shared with others.

In 2010, she also published her first cookbook Cooking For Isaiah. Since then, she has become a beacon for inspiration. She is published everywhere, and for good reason: she’s good at what she does. A foodie through and through, I knew she was a kindred spirit when she wrote this on her site:

"It’s this love of food and all that surrounds it that I want to give my family and to all of you. Eat to satisfy hunger, but more than anything, eat for fulfillment."

She wrote these recipes with her family in mind, her children Isaiah and Chiara evolving and growing up with a healthy relationship with food and a passion for cooking. Her compassion is infectious, and her writing is thought provoking and profound. 

In the late months of 2014, Silvana and HMH Trade Publishing’s Culinary Marketing Specialist J. Gilo reached out to me with an amazing opportunity: to review Silvana’s newest cookbook, Silvana’s Gluten-Free and Dairy-Free Kitchen: Timeless Favorites Transformed (2014)! Of course I was ecstatic, but I told her I was presently abroad until December, and shipping costs were a nightmare. Sure enough, along with an envelope containing my M.S. CAR diploma was another one with Silvana’s book waiting for me.

The book is broken down into the following categories: the Introduction (p.1) explaining that, no, your favorite foods are not a thing of the past now that you are gluten (and in this case, also dairy) free, and how to get started; The Breakfast Club (p.10), for breakfast and brunch favorites; Plenty of Dough (p.38), for breads and flatbreads; Let’s Get the Meals Started (p.66), for appetizers and salads; You’ll be Bowled Over (p.96), for soups, pasta and rice; Meal Makeovers (p.124), for “fake-out takeout”, TV dinners, and restaurant classics; Sweet Success (p.152), for dessert classics; Back to Basics, for her reinvented baking mixes (p.194) and dairy-free favorites (p.204), and a very important part of the book that is used in almost every recipe; and finally, the Acknowledgements (p.224) and Index (p.225).

What really stood out for me from the get-go was the prominence of creating a new culture in the family kitchen. When diagnosed with something, we tend for focus on the bad things of this realization, such as the lament that you can’t have your favorite breakfast pastry in the mornings anymore because it isn’t gluten free. The same can be said for those who have to eat a dairy-free lifestyle, when all they can think about is cheese and ice cream and milk in coffee. Silvana says that, to get started, you need to “reclaim the rights to your favorite foods now” (p.3), and that you can easily spoil you and your family rotten in new and amazing ways in the kitchen. Baking is a science, and it’s all about choosing the right ingredients for the flavor and texture you’re looking for, but it's also about trying and seeing what happens.

Before even getting started with the recipes, she provides a page of key ingredients that not only include the gluten free flours, but gluten-free dough enhancers, dairy-free enhancers, alternative sweeteners, and additional miscellaneous foods that make a gluten free diet so devilish (gluten free chickpea miso for the win)! While I’m not one to use xanthum gum, I was excited to learn of raw organic rice protein powder helping to create a beautiful rise in yeasted dough. That is something I am definitely going to look into for future yeasted bread.

She also provides a list of her favorite store-bought gluten-free and dairy-free products, some that I know of and have used, and others I did not. Alas, with my soy-free and cane sugar-free ways, I couldn’t eat a lot of what she listed. But that is something I think many gluten-free bloggers and authors should start doing: not necessarily advertising products for the sake of advertising, but sharing what they’ve purchased from the store and swear by for when certain things, like pasta or cooking oils, are rarely made from scratch these days.

As I said, her Back to Basics is a very important part of the cookbook, in that the majority of her recipes call for her flour mixes. She has quite a few, broken down to different baked goods that are similar in texture and technique. She also has a gluten free all-purpose flour mix, made with ingredients almost every gluten freer has seen before.

I will admit that I didn’t use her flour mixes, mostly because I tend to not use starches and gums (if ever). But I did test out one recipe that called for her mix with my own substitution of flours, and the result was extraordinary! Her recipes are well-tested and balanced, and I believe that if a recipe can be delicious using different flours than it calls for, then it’s one that is easy to use as long as you have the ratio of ingredients. It’s easier to do this by weight rather by volume, but it is possible.

I tried three recipes from the book: Apple and Granola Yogurt Parfaits (p.17), Bready Corn Tortillas (p.58), and Creamy Kale-Cannellini Soup with Garlic Chips (p.100). It was very hard to pick recipes to try, because the photos are just lovely. There were also a lot of cool dairy-free recipes in the Back to Basics section that I’d like to try out in the future, as I’d love to experiment with making dairy-free coconut yogurt.

The Apple and Granola Yogurt Parfaits (p.17) is an easy way to add some yum to your morning. My biggest complaint with many store-bought granola, particularly the gluten free kind, is that they are more often than not way to sweet. I actually started noticing sugar affecting me after cutting gluten out of my system through munching on gluten free granola, but I did miss it.

Silvana’s granola recipe is delicious. It is rolled oats based (certified gluten free, of course), but also includes sunflower seeds, pumpkin seeds, almonds, and flaxseed meal (likely to help with coating and binding). It is seasoned with what you’d usually expect with apple in a dish: cinnamon, ginger, and allspice. I played around with the spices, substituting nutmeg and clove for the ginger and allspice. She calls for almond butter, but I used peanut butter with the maple syrup, and since it was salty enough I abstained from adding more.

Toss, bake, done. A simple recipe that screams indulgence but wonderfully filling and wholesome. You can use this recipe for whatever calls for granola. It has a slightly sweet finish, but not so sweet as to calling your dentist for fear of cavities.

The Bready Corn Tortillas (p.58) required the most work of the three, which was minimal. Mama Dazz still had the wooden tortilla press we purchased a few years ago, and I was excited to give it a try. (This was the recipe I was talking about, about substituting her flour mix with my ratio of rice and chickpea flours.)

The dough, when mixed together, makes 12 smallish tortillas (a little smaller than the palm of my hand) at 50 g per ball. Instead of using shortening, I used softened butter, but I also think that room temperature coconut oil will work here too. The tortillas came out looking wonderful, but I think it was more of my error that they tasted a bit undercooked. That, and because of their size as well as the butter, they could only bend so far before they broke. So I did what any hungry person would do: I added salsa verde, beans, cheese, and other veggies, and baked that into a delicious concoction. Kind of like a layered enchilada, only without a lot of sauce.

Finally, the Creamy Kale-Cannellini Soup with Garlic Chips (p.100). I made this for a table of five other people, and they raved about how hearty and tasty it was! Silvana had this cool trick of mashing a partial amount of the beans with some of the broth and cooked veggies, making it thick but without the flour. The garlic chips were a huge hit, but I did have some trouble keeping them from sticking together or burning. I also added sliced shitake mushrooms to the mix, just because we had some on hand. I also used baby leaf kale instead of the heavy mature ones, so it didn’t take long for them to beautifully wilt yet remain a vibrant green. 

This book definitely achieved what it set out to do. It provides amazing ways to empower yourself in the kitchen, especially when it seemed like your favorite foods became your kryptonite. Each recipe is fantastically thought out and tested to ensure a fabulous turnout, and the diversity of the content will keep you turning the pages, devouring each photo and wanting to try another one.

One of the many positives of this cookbook I celebrated was that Silvana did not make dairy-free exclusive to meaning soy everywhere. In fact, the only things that call for soy is in her Asian-inspired recipes like Crispy Shrimp Pork Potstickers with Chili-Soy Dipping Sauce (p.76-77) or her Seven-Layer Tofu Tostadas (p.89, and can substitute the tofu with chicken). True, a lot of cooking sprays, vegetable shortening and spreads have soy or soy lecithin in them, but I think it’s a lot easier to avoid than not. You can also substitute gluten free tamari for coconut aminos without much of a difference in taste. For one thing, it’s not as salty, and has a smoky sweetness I absolutely adore.

The only thing I had to be careful of in Silvana’s recipes was the salt content. Personally, it felt too salty at times for my palate, but that just means adjusting the salt to what I prefer. I also think her Back to Basics portion would have done better after the Introduction rather than at the very end, simply because a lot of her recipes called for the various mixes and dairy-free delights and it would seem more appropriate to do so.

Another thing I noticed was that some of the ingredients listed felt a little vague at times when I read them over, mostly the question of which kind of shortening she used in a few of her recipes and the size (sometimes species) of particular fruits or veggies. But I think that mostly has to do with making recipes more accessible to those that, for example, do not write for a food blog, and also giving people the ability to experiment and create wonderful works of gastronomy.

Despite my having many cookbooks, Silvana’s is only one of the few I have that are specifically gluten free, and it is probably one of my favorites. This cookbook isn’t just about gluten free and dairy free cooking, but one woman’s achievements to the movement. It all started in her kitchen, making recipes for her family, recipes that seemed impossible not even a decade ago. She helped to make this lifestyle informative, delicious, and fun for the whole family, and I cannot tell you how honored I was to be considered to review it.

 Thank you for continuing to be an inspiration to many, Silvana! And I’m looking forward to utilizing this wonderful book for many many many recipes to come.

So, dear readers, would I buy this book? Definitely! And what about you? What did you think of Silvana's latest cookbook? Please comment below and share your thoughts.

Starting a Conversation on Wholesome Foods - Oh, and Veggie Burgers

Eating wholesomely and sustainably often comes with a more expensive receipt. To eat organic, local, Fair Trade, and other trigger words regarding food are, unfortunately, left to those with the privilege of an education and a salary you can actually support yourself on. Not everyone can afford to buy highly quality and ethically sound products in every aspect of their lives, which is a shame... because that should be the option each and every time.

I’ll admit that being gluten free can be expensive. The various non-wheat or gluten free flours can put a dent in your paycheck; and then there is a concern as to the carbon footprint of those flours’ transportation to your doorstep. What went into growing, milling, and packaging them? Was someone not paid a wage that can be lived on? Has it further broadened the gap of the have’s and the have-not’s?

Living in Malta is inexpensive in comparison to other places in the developed world, and the majority of my monthly budget goes to food. It opened my eyes to what it means to live locally as well as the implications of what it means to import goods from far away. The other reality is that sometimes local practices are, in fact, not sustainable, depending on what is grown and how. And sometimes, you have to make a decision: is something made locally but unsustainable and environmentally questionable better or worse than to buy something from far away that is by comparison?

The other issue I’ve picked up on healthy living blogs, including my own, is the use of ingredients that people may not be able to find, afford, or even know what they are (this point isn't so bad, only that once you know what they are, you may have to figure out shipping costs). I’ve used nutritional yeast, hemp seeds, chia seeds, quinoa, teff, gluten-free beer, and more without really understanding how I could potentially ostracize and isolate readers because of what I put into my recipes. On the plus side, aiming for wholesome nirvana has educated me in the ways of what is out there, the culture behind the meals, and my desire to share what I’ve found allows me to connect with others all over the world. (I’ve even started a YouTube Channel for that reason.) That includes ingredients I’ve discovered on my travels. That includes recipes that enhanced my experiences while traveling.

As I’ve progressively focused my flexitarianism on whole foods, I’ve begun to really honor making my own recipes for things that is typically bought, such as gluten-free breads, fermented drinks (mead and kombucha), and desserts. Another food that I’ve wanted to get into making are veggie burgers that are both gluten and soy free in a world where what is offered is one or the other, but rarely both. And yes, quite expensive. My goal is to empower people to focus on local and sustainable foods (whole grains and legumes, for example, as well as seasonal foods) that can be cheaply bought and to show you that you can make your favorite foods with them (if you are able to put the time and effort and willingness to experiment). 

This recipe is the start of a hopefully expanding veggie burger list of recipes. I made another veggie burger my first year blogging, and like that one I wish to emphasize that I am not trying to replicate the taste and texture of a meat burger. I would also recommend making small-ish patties by breaking down the mixture into eight pieces. I made them larger (four patties), and while they held together just fine, they were a bit soft and hard to flip because of their size. 

Lemon-Pepper Chickpea Burgers

200 g Dried chickpeas, soaked eight hours to overnight with filtered water and 1 – 2 tsp. baking soda*
1 Green onion, finely diced
1 Green bell pepper, finely diced
1 Garlic clove, finely diced
15 ml Lemon juice
1/2 tsp. Black pepper
1/2 tsp. Sea salt
15 g Flaxseed meal**
15 g Quinoa flour**

Prepare the chickpeas by draining the soaking water and rinsing them from the left over baking soda on the skins.
Add more filtered water into the pot, a pressure cooker if possible, and cook on medium-high heat until the beans are soft (pressure cooker-wise, it will take about 30 minutes).
Drain the water again, and pour the beans back into the pot.
Using a stirring utensil, begin to mash the beans enough that they start breaking down but not enough to turn it into a paste.
Add in the remaining ingredients with the chickpeas, and allow the mixture to sit for fifteen minutes.
Split the mixture into eight equal parts***, and roll them into balls.
On medium-high heat, heat up a sauté pan.
When hot enough, drizzle the bottom with olive oil.
Flatten the balls into patties, and at one or two at a time, cook the patties until brown on the outside and cooked all the way through.
Serve warm with your choice of sides and toppings, either as a burger or on top of a salad or anywhere else you would use a burger for.

Makes 8 patties, or 4 – 8 servings.

* Of the various types of the chickpea species, I used the smaller chickpea species that is extremely creamy and a thinner skin. It is a great chickpea for hummus. The baking soda isn’t mandatory: it breaks down certain aspects of the legume to make it softer when cooked.

** If you cannot come by flaxseed meal or quinoa flour, use what flours you have on hand with the same weight measurement. I happened to have both on hand, and wanted to use grain-free flours.

*** I used olive oil to coat my hands in a way to keep the patties from sticking.

Creamy Split Pea Soup (Vegan)

When I came back to Malta from my vacation in Rome, my first week back was a rough one. Each visit makes the distance that much harder. Each visit provides another incentive toward closing the distance and finding a sustainable career within a quarter time-frame.

Working full-time and finishing graduate school the first half of my time in Malta was a difficult one. For the first time in my life I struggled to assimilate into the culture, or make friends outside of work. I essentially became a recluse, struggling with living on my own and by myself, being hit hard with various life experiences and triggers, exhausted and emotionally fatigued. 

But it seemed like I came back to a new Malta, and all it took was a vacation and a shift in priorities.

Since returning from break, I strived to take care of myself, and to honor myself in every sense of the word. I focused on honoring what my body needed, especially with meals.

Throughout my time publishing recipes, I’ve internally lamented how I’ve ignored soups and stews, especially blended soups. I always have the tendency to overthink or overdo simple meals, and since my continuing research and activism in sustainability, I'm working to simplify my palate in the sense that every flavor becomes complex and satisfying. 

Creamy Split Pea Soup (Vegan)

250 g Split green peas, soaked overnight in water with apple cider vinegar
1 Celery stalk, coarsely chopped
1 Med. Carrot, coarsely chopped
1 Yellow onion, coarsely chopped
1 Garlic clove, coarsely chopped
2 tbsp. Olive oil
Water, hot*
1/2 tsp. Sea salt
1/4 tsp. Black pepper
1 Bay leaf

Place the split green peas in a pot and top with water and apple cider vinegar to soak eight hours or overnight.
Drain the water and set the peas aside.
In a medium to large pressure cooker, set the heat to medium-high and drizzle with olive oil.
Sweat the vegetables until translucent, and then add the peas, seasonings, and the 2 tbsp. of olive oil.
Pour the hot water into the pot until it is just covering.
Place the pressure cooker lid as instructed for your model, lower the heat to medium-low, and cook for at least 30 min.
Turn off the heat and let the pressure naturally subside.
Use a stick blender or regular blender** to blend until smooth.
Pour into bowls, and serve hot.

Makes 2 – 4 Servings.

Note: This recipe is perfect for leftovers (just add water!), and super easy to double depending on the amount of servings you want.

*There’s really no measurement for this, as it ultimately depends on how thick or thin you want the consistency to be. After adding the peas to the cooking vegetables, I poured the water (hot, from the electric kettle) until it just covered the peas.
** Be mindful that hot stuff in the blender tends to come up back at you if you aren’t too careful. I’d recommend adding a little at a time to be safe.

Graduated.

Almost two months since a post. A first on the Meals with Morri site.

I’ve completed the Conflict Analysis and Resolution MS Program. My last class technically finishes on Wednesday, but I turned in my assignment early so I would have the weekend devoted to catching up on sleep and spending time with CK. This will be our longest time spent together, and my first summer spent with a partner ever, so you can imagine my excitement.

A lot has happened in two months. I took six credits worth of highly intensive schoolwork (as in, two graduate-level classes in the half the time) alongside working part-time and full time at my internship. I wasn’t sleeping well. I stopped exercising. I was a nervous wreck. I struggled.

But I did it. I’m done. Now, halfway through my internship, I feel like I can enjoy Malta for the rest of my stay.

I’m a bit behind in recipes, and I’m still processing the post-Graduate inevitability (sound familiar?), so please bear with me. My goal is to resume regular posting in August. For now, I'll be editing the website and brainstorming ideas on how to refine the Meals with Morri focus as well as what in the gods' names I'll be doing as a career.

In the meantime, thank you for visiting my area of cyberspace, and feel free to email me suggestions on what recipes you'd like to see in the upcoming months.

Risotto is an Italian classic, and one of my favorite rice dishes out there. CK and I have made it over Skype and together, and it’s one of those dishes that is easy to make and easy create variations with little to no effort at all. Pea and mint is a fantastic combination, and recipes for this risotto variation can be found everywhere.

Sweet Pea and Mint Risotto

25 g salted butter (or olive oil for a dairy free and vegan risotto)
1 Red onion, finely diced
400 g Arborio rice
1 glass of white wine*
200 g Fozen peas
1 tsp. dried mint
1 L water, hot (preferably boiling)**
Sea salt and cracked peppercorns, to taste

Parmesan cheese, to top***

Finely chop the onion and “sweat” (known as soffrito in Italy) it very gently in the butter over medium heat in a large saute pan or pot.
Add the rice and cook until it has a transparent look (this shouldn't take long) followed by the mint, wine, and peas.
When the wine is more or less gone, add the water (or stock) a little bit at a time (never submerged).
Keep stirring it and keep adding more liquid as it cooks away, about 15 to 20 minutes.
Taste to see if the rice is done: the rice should be soft, but have enough bite to it to feel the individual grains of rice.
Serve immediately with Parmesan cheese*** on top.

Makes 4 – 8 servings.

*A traditional risotto usually calls for a dry to semi-dry. I had a bottle of Maltese white wine that was sweet but with a dry aftertaste. It gave the risotto a wonderful depth of flavor that harmonized well with the sweetness of the peas and the coolness of the mint.

** One easy way to maintain the heat is using an electric kettle.

*** For a dairy-free/vegan cheese replacement, I recommend nutritional yeast.

Gnocchi: Making Messes and Getting Creative

For the past couple of months, I have struggled with recipe rut. Either the recipes don’t turn out like I had hoped, or it just didn’t taste post-worthy. I am also dealing with wanting to do so much. Along with a full workweek at the NGO, I’m also doing six credits worth of work this semester for school. Hoping to make use of my free time more efficiently, I had this optimistic hope that I could cook, photograph, write, sew, draw, paint, exercise, sing, dance, and travel in my free time. I wanted to work on enhancing my skills in all of these simultaneously. I wanted to devote equal amount of time all of my creative outlets.

And then reality set in. I couldn’t do it all and still hold on to my sanity. In an effort to better myself to such extreme measures, without down time or people I cared about, I would be talented… but not a better person. I've had great advice from friends when I needed suggestions in making time for my passions: 

"Preferably mix the ones most compatible and develop them together (such as art and writing). If it can't be managed, stick with the one you love most and rotate the others."

"Combine them. Works the best for me. Although my hobbies are different, they mostly go hand in hand."

Worse still, I started to see the struggle CK goes through when he talks about making food as a chore. It isn’t as fun when you aren’t making it with or for other people. After the two Maltese dishes I made, I was left with tons of leftovers. It became monotonous and boring to eat the same thing day after day. Food really does taste better with other people to enjoy it with. The ambience and the company are equally important to eating as the food itself.

"Where love sets the table food tastes at its best."
- French Proverb

Making gnocchi, for example, just doesn't taste the same unless you're making a mess with another person.

When CK visited in December, we made gnocchi for the first time. Without a potato ricer, they turned out tasting like mashed potato pillows, but still good sautéed in butter with spinach and cheese. And when he visited again at the end of January, he surprised me with a potato ricer, and it made all the difference.

Trial 1: Delicious, but dense and mashed potatoey

And before you tsk tsk with the concept of getting a potato ricer because it is considered a single use kitchen appliance and will likely gather dust in your cabinet next to your fondue pot, think again! I've used it to make lump-free mashed sweet potato and squeezed excess water from shredded zucchini for nutrient-laden pancakes. I am also in the works to making gluten free spätzle and single serving apple sauce with it. (So there...)

Gnocchi is by far my favorite pasta to make from scratch. There is no expectation to have a perfect shape, although the smaller the pieces the firmer they are after boiling. While initially bland in flavor, they transform a dish to something filled with comfort and warmth. Making and preparing gnocchi takes longer (and creates such a satisfying mess) than it does to cook it. I find my favorite way of making a recipe with gnocchi is cooking them and then using them to make a casserole of sorts with bubbling sauce and cheese. If you ever need a dish that promotes a borderline meditative state in making and eating, gnocchi is for you.

I followed the instructions Heidi of 101 Cookbooks wrote in her post “How to Make Gnocchi like an Italian Grandmother recipe”, and I found that the Maltese Derby worked quite well. And even better, I used my favorite flour (garbanzo bean/chickpea/besan) and turned it into a grain-free delight!

This is a dish to make with your sweetie on any date night you have coming up. It is also a great way to get your family and friends in on the fun of making a true blue homemade meal. In the midst of counters to scrub and flour to wipe off every surface, it’s certainly worth the mess.

Grain-free Gnocchi (inspired by Heidi’s recipe)

2 lbs Potatoes*
1 Large (50 g) Egg
120 g Garbanzo bean flour
Sea salt
Dried spices, optional**

Place the potatoes (washed) in a large pot and pour the water so it covers at least a couple of inches above. (Note: depending on their size, it may be a good idea to cut them in half. Since the Maltese Derby is medium-sized to small, I didn’t need to.)
Salt the water (a teaspoon or two will do), and bring to a boil until potatoes are tender, roughly 45 minutes depending on the potatoes’ respective sizes.
Remove the potatoes from the water one at a time with a slotted spoon, but save the potato water.
Place each potato on a large cutting board and peel it as soon as possible before moving on to the next potato (without burning yourself, mind. I find keeping a small bowl of cold water works wonders. Heidi recommends using a paring knife).***
While hot, push the potatoes through the ricer to create very light fluffy potato piles. (I found the potato ricer really does help in making quality gnocchi. It’s worth the buy.)
Let the potatoes cool spread out across the cutting board for roughly fifteen minutes, or long enough so that the egg won't cook when it is incorporated into the potatoes.
When ready, pull the potatoes into a soft mound, drizzle with the beaten egg and sprinkle 3/4 of the flour across the top.
With a spatula, scrape underneath and fold, scrape and fold until the mixture is a light crumble and add the remaining flour (a little at a time) until the dough is moist but not tacky, almost billowy.
Cut it into 8 pieces, and gently roll each piece of dough into a snake-shaped log, roughly the thickness of your thumb.
Use a knife to cut pieces every 3/4-inch/2 cm.
Shape the gnocchi by holding a fork in one hand and placing a gnocchi piece against the tines of the fork, cut ends out.
Use your thumb and press in and down the length of the fork, and the gnocchi should curl into a slight "C" shape as their backs capture the impression of the tines as tiny ridges (great for sauce).
Set each piece of gnocchi aside until you are ready to boil them.
Reheat your potato water or start with a fresh pot (salted), and bring to a boil.
Cook the gnocchi in batches by dropping them into the boiling water roughly twenty at a time (I’ve been able to do up to thirty or forty, but was conscious of where I dropped them into the water. I also found it easier to do so if they went in one at a time).
Once they are done, they will pop back up to the top.
Fish them out of the water a few at a time with a slotted spoon ten seconds or so**** after they've surfaced.
Place them in another bowl, either with sauce to serve immediately or in a pile to be used for later (they’ve yet to stick when I just place them on top of each other as I prepare to put them in the oven).
Continue cooking in batches until all the gnocchi are done.
Serve hot with sauce, pesto, or cheese.

Makes 3 – 6 Servings, depending on meal size or appetite.

* Heidi recommended using Russet potatoes because of their starch content. I found that the MDP also worked well, despite it’s texture being waxy and wet.
** Gnocchi by itself can be a little bland, so adding some dried spices like basil, oregano, or thyme to the dough will enhance the flavor. I would love to add nutmeg next time.
*** CK wanted me to mention "that after boiling long enough, the skin should slough off with a bit of pressure. It let me peel the potatoes quickly."
**** Depending on the size of the pieces or the flour you are using, you may find that ten seconds just isn’t enough time. My rule of thumb is to wait twenty seconds AFTER the entire batch (1/8 of the dough) has plopped to the surface.

My Almost Vegetarian Moment in Making Stuffat Tal-Fenek (Rabbit Stew)

I still can’t get over the fact that I’m living on my own and by myself. No parents. No Significant Other. No cats. No plants. Every day I come home and it’s just me to look forward to.

For the last month, I have had to deal with a lot of things. While Skyping and connecting with people online or in person, I have struggled with learning to live with myself. It has been both exhilarating and painful, but I’m starting to see my value and honor who I am as a person. It’s sad that I had to move halfway across the world to finally get to this point, but there you have it.

But then you split them into three categories: emotional, mental, and physical. It’s the mental part of the struggles I wish to share a story with you.

Now, everyone who knows me personally is aware that I am fond of rabbits (see photo to your left for proof). As a child, I grew up with rabbit toys I could put into my pockets or cuddle up with at night. Even the live-in nanny I remember the most had a rabbit for a while. In high school, I had this doodle I made called Super Bunny whenever I wrote in yearbooks or drew in class. Besides having kitties as part of the family, I sincerely hope I get the chance to give a rabbit a loving home when I have the ability to do so.

But here’s the thing: I also enjoy rabbit as a protein source. Rabbit is practically all white meat and the industry of producing rabbit for eating isn’t as industrialized as the others (chicken, beef, pork, etc.). In Malta, it’s a very small farmer sort of deal. For one thing, there just isn’t the space to have a lot of animals on any given farm, and for another, rabbit seems to be only available by demand. You don’t have factory-like conditions for slaughter. You just have single families making ends meet.

For weeks after I came to the island, I was so excited to make stuffat tal-fenek, or the traditional rabbit stew of Malta. But every time I went to the store and inquired about getting a rabbit, they were always out. By chance I went to the Lidl by my work and found the butcher nearby to be open (I still haven’t perfected when stores are actually open… there really isn’t a specific time or day). I walked in to find two young boys and their father behind the counter. The man looks like the stereotypical local butcher: tall, big (like a bear or an ox), muscular, and very friendly. I briefly looked around and asked about rabbit, and he said he had some on hand. Ecstatic and not really observant, I purchased one, and he cut up the carcass while I played peek-a-boo with his little boys (two and four) who were giggling behind the counter.

The rabbit was put into the freezer and saved for a day when I wanted to make it. It wasn’t necessarily labor intensive, merely time consuming. I opened the bag and marinated the thawing rabbit in red wine, garlic, salt and pepper. Again, I didn’t really pay attention or think anything was amiss, and did other things while the meat soaked up the liquid.

After eight hours (I should have done longer like the recipe stated, as the meat was still a little dry for my taste), I cut up the veggies and heated up my large pan to brown the meat. I drooled at the lovely smells of searing meat with the tantalizing aromas of the wine and garlic as I placed them one by one in the pan. And that’s when I realized I should have paid more attention to what the butcher put into the bag instead of letting excitement blur my observations.

He gave me the head.

I stared at the pan for a brief moment in absolute horror, resisting the urge to have the infamously comical “Eek! A mouse/spider!” moment. I looked at the glazed look of the long dead eyes, the teeth with the little tongue lolling to the side, and feeling my stomach turn as I considered the possibility of the brain still intact. And I was still dealing with what I thought was the ears. 

(source)

Yup... definitely ears.

Maybe if I had paid more attention and was aware of the head being included as part of my purchase, I wouldn’t have freaked out or almost lost my appetite. But I wasn’t and I  pretty much did. I was suddenly faced with a borderline-vegetarian experience. That head put a face to the meat I was consuming. It wasn’t just a nameless protein source, but once a living thing with a cute twitching nose, floppy ears, and my one of my favorite animals on the planet. A complete being had been in my freezer for a couple of weeks and I hadn’t known.

This is probably the first time I experienced cognitive dissonance so powerfully. I couldn’t handle having a head browning on the pan and threw it away, its eyes looking up at me from the garbage like a horrible zombie nightmare. Then the idea of having a head in my trashcan was even worse, and so I put it out on the curb and went back inside to resume cooking my now faceless meat. As I put the now browned meat, veggies, and the rest of the marinade in a large pot (note: Maltese recipes tend to make copious amounts of anything), my appetite was practically gone. The tantalizing smells were now nauseating. I felt guilty for how easy it was to simply throw away what made me feel so uncomfortable.

Luckily, I had CK and our mutual friends were online and talking on our group conversation via Skype.

Me: So... I'm strongly strongly considering vegetarianism.
CK: Why?
Me: It's because of this stew I'm making. Rabbit stew. The butcher left the head and I didn't realize it. It... startled me.
CK: Eeew.
Me: Yeah... I don't know if it was due to putting cute fluffy thing and dead thing to eat together or that I was legitimately startled by it. I think I'm experiencing cognitive dissonance...
CK [forever the teacher]: Learning is going to happen!
Me: I actually feel the struggle of turning the rabbit into a faceless chunk of meat now…
CK: I'm sorry.
Me: … that I threw away its head because it made me uncomfortable. This is... so new.
CK: Still doing the stew?
Me: Yes. I'm just feeling reflective. And besides, that would be wasteful… and it smells yummy. But it still affected me in a way I've never felt before. I mean, I've seen meat with the faces. I have. In freezers, and when Uncle R roasts a whole pig. But for some reason, this time it affected me. I am more grateful.
CK: *nod*
JS: It may have rattled you because you weren't prepared for it, like you were with the pig roast. You knew that was coming.
Me: yeah...

Later, after much reflection:

Me: Am I a bad person for choosing to eat meat even though I had this realization?
CK: What do you think?
Me: No. I'm not a bad person. [Sudden realization] CK, the reason why I don't eat meat while we visit one another is because I don't -need- to eat it. I enjoy it from time to time, and I can go without it. It's like you and eating gluten free... it's real food regardless. But I'm starting to see that meat was once a living creature with a gender and a life.
CK: I've never thought ill of you for eating meat, Love.
Me: I know that. I'm just worried about thinking ill of myself, which I'm not.
CK: Just be sure that, whatever choice you make, you do it because it is what feels right to you.
Me: Of course, CK. I'd only make a decision like that -only- because it's for the betterment of how I live my life.

The truth is, at this moment I don’t feel the need to go vegetarian completely because it’s so rare for me to eat meat unless I have leftovers. After my experience, I still ate the leftover chicken I had in the fridge. I still heated up the stuffat tal-fenek after a chilly walk home to warm my core with. I still have milk with coffee. I still use eggs in my pancakes. I still add honey to my tea. When CK and I are together, we make vegetarian and gluten free delights because making the foods we love is a way to connect. When we go out to eat, sometimes the only thing I can eat has meat whereas his only option is gluten and/or soy. We don’t think less of each other for it, and it makes enjoying the foods we can eat together that much more special.

But I get it. I do. I understand that there are a number of studies that try to prove that their diet is The Right Diet. I understand why it’s important to know where your food comes from, whether it’s from an animal or from the ground. I also understand this awareness is starting to alter how we look and feel about what we’re eating. There was a passage I read from Jaclyn Bauer’s (2014) “Marshmallow Dilemma: A Vegetarian’s Argument for Realistic Expectations” that really helped me deal with it:

“In the end, I told her everything only mattered as much as she believed it to matter and cared to think that it did. It is of the utmost importance to establish within your own mind your ideologies and morals, but it is equally vital to be flexible to the extent that you don’t drive yourself crazy and make yourself miserable on account of some external thought, idea or action.

Hold on to who you are, but let yourself transform with the passage of time instead of hanging on desperately to one idea you once held on to.”

My concern with going vegan is turning it into a form of control of my diet, and further restricting nutrients and making it a form of disordered eating. With orthorexia just behind me, it has been a slow but steady process from removing ‘good’ and ‘bad’ as labels for food and simply honoring what my body needs. And I know there are many practices out there that are absolutely terrible in regards to raising, maintaining, and slaughtering animals for sustenance. I’ve seen the pamphlets. I’ve read Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle. But it doesn’t necessarily make me want to become 100% vegetarian/vegan, although I respect and honor those that do take that path. If anything, it wants me to help create a better environment for animals that happen to be used for food: less process, more compassion, and with human caretakers that treat them with dignity and respect. Those photos and videos simply show what cruelty humanity is capable of, and how important it is to create localized farming movements and dispatch factory farming practices. It makes me want to show the importance of quality farming practices, perhaps basing the sales by orders and need instead of killing in mass quantities to maintain uniformity and expected waste or loss. 

And it also depends on what you grew up with. Family pets in certain places are part of the cuisine in others. Some people see animals as part of the labor force or as nourishment, and some see animals with the same rights we have.

Perhaps it’s only typical in the United States, but I don’t think the average person thinks of the cow that became the hamburger, or the countless chickens used for spicy chicken wings. And to be fair, we don’t ask what goes into our fruits and veggies either. But something shifted in my awareness, because everything I’ll ever eat from this point on had a path before it ended up on my plate. It had roots. It had a face. It lived. It died.

And for what went into this dish, animal and plant alike, I am grateful for the sacrifice in nourishing me.

Stuffat Tal-Fenek (adapted from this recipe) 

1 rabbit, (approx 1.5kg, cut in small portions)*
Sea salt and freshly
500ml red wine
1 tsp. olive oil
4 garlic cloves, coarsely chopped
2 Red onions, finely chopped
1 790 g can/5 large tomatoes, finely diced
2 tsp. kunserva (tomato paste)
5 potatoes, cut into small (1 cm) cubes**
3 carrots, coarsely chopped
200 g peas, fresh or frozen
6 bay leaves
Pinch mixed herbs***
Marinate the rabbit eight hours to overnight in the red wine, garlic, salt and pepper in the fridge.****

In a large pot, heat the olive oil, and add the rabbit until slightly brown.
Add the onions, carrots, potatoes and the tomatoes, and pour half of the marinade on the ingredients.
Bring to boil on a high flame for about 15 minutes
Add the remaining wine, peas, bay leaves, kidney and liver and simmer on low heat for about 2 hours, stir occasionally and add some more wine if the sauce begins to dry up.
Serve hot with grated Parmesan cheese.

Makes 6 - 8 Servings.

* Mind the head and organs. While the head startled me, I was excited to have organ meat (such as the heart and liver) since they are so high in nutrients.
** Naturally Maltese Derbies. The original recipe called for peeled and quartered potatoes. While it depends on my mood how big I want the potatoes to be, I hardly ever peel potatoes (unless I’m making gnocchi). I’m of the personal opinion that the peel is the best part.
*** Mixed herbs: parsley, rosemary, thyme, mint, basil, oregano, marjoram, pepper husk
**** I would recommend marinating the meat for at least 12 hours or more. Since rabbit meat is so lean, it can be on the dry side.