Chuck Steak and Vegetable Stew

I have been busy. Wonderfully, fantastically, borderline overwhelmingly busy. It’s the kind of ‘busy’ that gives me breathing room, time to stretch out and do nothing, time to do a certain chore each day, time to work, time to meditate, time to play, time to climb. Within two weeks or so I’ve never felt so in tune with the current in which my life flows; and with school starting up again next week, not to mention possible career/volunteer opportunities to pursue, I will want as sturdy a foundation as I can.

Then there are the unexpected things that happen, the kind that don’t make themselves visible to you until someone else mentions them. The planner that I am and the Bisy Backson I tend to be, the recipes /adventures/product reviews in my posts are almost always preplanned with the intention to share on cyberspace.

This recipe was not a preplanned post. This post had no preconceived theme. In fact, I wasn’t intending on posting anything at all until tomorrow. But there was this rather insistent voice (i.e., Mama Dazz’s) to provide this recipe on Meals with Morri. And you would think by how persistent she was in my posting this it would be this elaborate meal with complicated directions to get it "just so". This could not be farther from the truth.

It’s the easiest thing you could make.

However, I do admit to using an ingredient that may bring a quizzical expression to your face (or at least a “Say what?” expression, although I have no idea what that would look like): black garlic.

Look at the difference!

I first heard about black garlic when I was watching an episode of the Food Network show Chopped. Almost a year later as I was visiting friends in Toledo after Thanksgiving, I saw bags of it at the store while shopping for dinner items and bought it on an impulse.

To say I was hooked on the sweet and savory, smoky almost teriyaki taste would be an understatement. And when I brought the rest home to share with the household, one bite and Mama Dazz ordered sixteen bulbs online. Apparently, someone loved the flavor more than I had.

Black garlic is that sort of ingredient to use sparingly, but is also that sort of ingredient you’re likely to put in everything. Gravies, soups, stews, curries, sauces, and marinades will be enhanced with such depth of flavor that it will be the ending note on the tip of your tongue that will have you wanting  second or third helpings.

Personally, soups and stews have (deliciously) never been the same in this house since.

Chuck Steak and Vegetable Stew

2 – 2.25 lb Chuck steak, cubed into manageable bite-sized pieces
1 Red onion, finely diced
2 Carrots, finely diced
2 Celery stalks, finely diced
142 g Baby bella mushrooms, finely diced
2 Garlic cloves, coarsely chopped
2 Black garlic cloves, coarsely chopped*
170 g Tomato paste
Sea salt, to taste
Cracked pepper, to taste
Water (Or stock, if you prefer)

Combine all the ingredients in a pressure cooker** and fill it with water until it almost submerges the meat and vegetables.
Place on medium-high heat until you can easily blend the tomato paste with the water, and then cover to cook on medium to medium-low heat for one hour.
Turn off the heat and allow the pressure to dwindle naturally.
Carefully remove the lid and stir the stew to check the consistency.
Adjust the taste with sea salt and pepper and pour into bowls.
Serve hot.

Makes 8 servings. 

*If you do not happen to have black garlic on hand (or simply do not prefer it), try using soy-free miso or coconut aminos instead. Click here to find it near you or order it online!

**This seems like the sort of recipe that would do well in a crock pot as well. So in case you don't have a pressure cooker, this may be an all-day make-the-house-smell-amazing sort of recipe. 

The New St. Paddy Tradition

The day of and following St. Paddy’s had greener than green flora and overcast skies. There was leftover corned beef and cabbage from Friday (we started early this year), and a trial run of gluten free soda bread sliced on the counter. There were good conversations and rock climbing. There was family and good food and laughter around the table. Oh, and naturally there was green everywhere.

Since I was a wee lass, St. Paddy’s Day was celebrated with corned beef and cabbage, talk of leprechauns, and wearing green. Sometimes leprechauns left little trinkets in my shoddy shoebox trap, in place of the potato I’d left beneath it. There was a year green Ken doll footprints were found all over the furniture in the classrooms of my school. This isn’t the religious holiday my Irish cousins observe overseas, but for one day out of the year the U.S. is enthusiastically Irish.

Contrary to popular belief, the corned beef tradition on St. Paddy's doesn’t come from Ireland, as beef was considered a luxury at the time. In the 19th century, with the potato famine sending many Irish families to the United States, many say it was because beef being more readily available and the close cultural interactions with Jewish butchers that made corned beef a staple in Irish American cuisine. Thus, the corned beef and cabbage, the beef replacing the bacon for the traditional dish, became associated with St. Patrick’s Day.

Corned beef and I have had our rocky years. At one point, I wasn’t all too fond of the dish, though I did enjoy corned beef hash (oh yes, the canned kind) immensely. Though I started to develop a taste for it, only to realize that the store-bought corned beef in brine wasn’t as Morri friendly as it could be. Sugar is the basis for many types of brine, and I was determined to have corned beef and cabbage this weekend.

The answer was to make it from scratch, homemade brine and all.

I should have let it marinate longer than five days (the bare minimum amount of time for a decent corned beef), but it was a wonderful experiment and I consider it a success regardless. Since we bought a rather large brisket and only used half (the other half was then halved again and frozen), I’m going to make it again when I have a craving for corned beef hash. Another difference is that I will use whole spices instead of ground, because it was all I had at the time and we just restocked from Penzeys this afternoon.

The recipe for the brine comes from The Caveman Bistro’s post “The Brining of the Beef – a Paleo Experiment”. Most, if not all the brines I looked at for inspiration were in fact gluten free. But refined sugar free was harder, and this paleo brine saved the day. 

Corned Beef Brisket Brine

2 qt. Water
30 ml Unrefined apple cider vinegar
8 Garlic cloves, crushed
1 tbsp. Sea salt
6 Dried whole bay leaves
1 tbsp. Whole peppercorns
1 tbsp. Mustard seed powder
1 tbsp. Allspice powder
1 tbsp. Ground cloves
5 -7 lbs. Beef brisket, trimmed of heavy fat (though some fat can be left on for flavor and texture)
   
In a large pot on the stovetop, combine water, vinegar, garlic, salt, bay, pepper, mustard, all spice and cloves and heat to a boil. 
Reduce heat and simmer for 10 minutes, and then remove from heat and allow to cool until room temperature. 
Place brisket in the large pot with the cooled brine mixture and push the brisket down so that it is completely submerged in the brine. 
Place pot in fridge and marinate for minimum 5-7 days and up to 3 weeks.
When ready, prepare as you would a commercially prepared corned beef brisket…

Now that you have a delicious corned beef recipe waiting to happen, let’s make it even more amazing with a few additional ingredients!

The following recipe was the inspiration of the cookbook Irish Pub Cooking (2009), something I picked up at the GMU bookstore two years ago.

Corned Beef and Cabbage

Corned beef, after the desired period of marinating
1 tsp. Sea salt
1 Large white onion, sliced
6 Carrots, cut into chunks
1 Turnip, thickly sliced
6 Red skinned potatoes, cut into chunks
1 Green cabbage, cored and cut into wedges
9 g Parsley (or 1 oz stemmed), coarsely chopped
Mustard, as garnish

… Drain the meat, discarding the soaking liquid, then rinse (I discarded the garlic cloves, but held onto the bay leaves and peppercorns).
Put the meat and spices (including the salt) back into the pot, and pour enough water to cover.
Bring to a boil and then reduce the heat to a simmer and cover the meat to cook for 1 hour and 45 minutes or longer (I recommend using the pressure cooker to cut the time).
At the one-hour mark, add the onion, carrots, turnip, and potatoes to the pot, re-cover, and simmer for the remaining 45 minutes.
Add the cabbage and parsley on top of the broth and let it cook for another 25 – 30 minutes, or until the meat is tender.
Remove the beef, cover with aluminum foil, and let stand for 10 minutes to firm up.
Strain the vegetables (but keep the broth!) and put them into a warmed serving dish, discarding the stray bay leaves.
Carve the meat into slices and serve immediately with the vegetables, accompanied by the mustard.

Makes 8 – 10 servings.

Cottage Pie

Do you ever have those moments where you ended up questioning something, even things in the past you didn’t have control over in the first place? Do you ever think you took the wrong path, whether it is for a career or a college major? My blogging activity waned for five excruciatingly long days, just as my motivation had for school. I kept cooking, and I kept going to school, but when it came time to study the weekly readings or blog my latest recipe, I couldn’t focus, my eyes glazed over, my mind went blank, and all I wanted to do was sleep and hide from the world.

Yesterday all I did was sleep, and I was still exhausted. My inability to sleep more than six hours without the compulsion to get up each night was starting to get to me (zombie-free, thank goodness). I look out from my bedroom window, gazing at the beauty of this clear autumn day, and I can’t help but feel so disconnected from the Cosmos. I don’t feel like I’m part of my own life.

So I’m looking back at my college career, and I think about Steve Jobs and Chris Botti. Both men are geniuses of their respective crafts, Jobs with computers and Botti with his trumpet. Neither one of them completed college (Jobs dropped out and then back “in” college, only taking the classes he found interesting and Botti dropped out to pursue the life of a musician), but look at the impact they’ve made in the world! I started thinking to myself, my minor classes in anthropology were the ones that kept my GPA under a 3.5, and suppose if I decided use those credits to take the classes I found interesting. Where would my GPA be? Where would I be as a person if I took a year off before going to school and traveled? A lot of recent opportunities have come up in the S/CAR program, opportunities that I can’t be part of because this is my last semester as an undergraduate. Maybe this is where it all started, when I found out that future S/CAR majors would have the ability to turn their senior year into their first year of the Masters program. That, and the fact that I still haven’t heard anything about my grades from Sweden transferring, that kept me from filling out my application and, in my mind, hindering my ability to being selected for the upcoming spring.

For the past few weeks I’ve been angry and frustrated and sullen. I was angry because I felt cheated, because I didn’t know what George Mason could have offered me if I hadn’t taken on the anthropology minor. I was frustrated because all the motivation and drive I had was quickly fading, and December was looming closer and closer. And I was sullen, because the only thing that was keeping me from the people that mattered most to me and inhibiting me from doing the things I loved and wanted to do was, well, me.

The nervous breakdown last night, in front of my family and friends, was my turning point. We all get together on a monthly basis to eat, love, meet new people, and discuss new ideas and philosophies. We started talking about the concepts of Wyrd and Ørlög, or fate and its path, as it is known in the Old Anglo-Saxon and Germanic cultures, and despite all my efforts to not break down, the tears fell and I excused myself for the rest of the discussion. It was at that moment I knew I didn’t feel connected to something I felt I should have been, and that my fate and destiny were secrets I wasn’t in on that they might as well not exist. What was I going to do with my life after graduation? What credentials could I possibly have that gave me a doorway to do something great for the world? What was the point of going through higher education when upon graduation I don’t feel prepared for life outside of academia? I am scared, so completely and utterly terrified, and more than once I’ve half-jokingly told people I’m going to become a Buddhist nun just to get away from everything. I began doubting my ability as being a conflict resolution practitioner. I began doubting my ability to cook. I began doubting the things I loved and the things I was good at. I wanted to put the covers over my head and wait until graduation, to not eat or move or talk.

I sat there, petting my uncle’s two dogs while I calmed down, and a couple of people came down to check on me. I told them why I was a blubbering mess with tears in my hair and a heavy heart, spilling out my fears and my reflections. Two of them, brothers and roommates, said they went through the exact same thing before and after they left the military. In fact, most if not all who talked with me said they’re still trying to figure it all out. “Your career doesn’t define you”, my uncle’s girlfriend said, “but that doesn’t mean you won’t end up where you’re supposed to.” I left the get-together in better spirits than I had arrived. I couldn’t have felt more loved or supported, and for that I am grateful for the amazing family I have.

If it hadn’t been for following Mama Dazz’s incentive and looking into conflict resolution as a discipline, I wouldn’t be the person I am today. I learned the art of communication, the power of empathy, and have met the unsung heroes of this wonderful world we have. If it hadn’t been for George Mason or the S/CAR program, I wouldn’t have met the people whom I cherish more than anything, including my colleagues in my classes or the love of my life one fateful Halloween party two years ago. And finally, if I hadn’t been part of this program, I wouldn’t have gone to the conference last year and hear Andy Shallal’s speech that inspired me more than he will ever know.

Thinking about this, now, as I write this post, further reiterates what I’ve always known. Everything is connected. There is no such thing as a coincidence. I’ve been disconnected from the Universe because I’d lost my belief in the process. And when you turn your back on that process and distrust it, you become lost and your way is uncertain. You begin to fear the process, and what it might bring. 

When I was first looking into making shepherd’s pie for the family, put into my single serving Pyrex® dishes, I searched for other people’s recipes before I sought to create my own. Maybe I wanted a point of departure so I wouldn’t mess up something I’ve never made before. Or maybe I wanted to walk down a path already traveled. But then, I noticed none of the recipes were what I was going for. I was afraid to pave my own path, even if it was a recipe for cottage pie (and before you say it, there is a difference between the two recipes).

So, despite my revelation (and a bangin’ original recipe), am I still terrified, frustrated, and sullen? A little. Graduation is still coming up. Midterms are still this week. Morri is still a stressed out, hormonal mess. But you can’t change what has already happened, and you shouldn’t worry about the things you can’t control. Sometimes what other people have done before you isn’t exactly what you want to do. And there may be a better way to do what you have in mind.

Everything happens for a reason. Trust in the process. Believe in your fate and that path your fate is taking. So here, have some cottage pie for your journey. I guarantee you’ll feel better.

Cottage Pie

1.5 lbs Lean beef stew meat, chopped into bite-sized chunks

2 carrots (about 5.5 oz), peeled, quartered, and finely chopped

1 White onion (medium), peeled and finely chopped

5.25 oz Petite peas, fresh or frozen

3 tbsp. Olive oil

2 Garlic cloves, coarsely chopped

20 oz Water

1 tsp. Unrefined apple cider vinegar

1 Bay leaf

1 tsp. Thyme

1/4 tsp. Rosemary powder

1/4 tsp. Sage powder

1 tsp. Sea salt

1/2 tsp. Cracked pepper

3 (heaping) tbsp. Potato starch

4 Russet potatoes (about 2.5 lbs), cut into small chunks

2 Garlic cloves, whole

1 oz Salted butter

3 oz Sour cream

1/4 tsp. Sea salt

1/4 tsp. Cracked pepper

In a pressure cooker or large pot, combine the beef, veggies, water, and spices (sans the potato starch, and cook for at least an hour.

Preheat the oven to 350ºF.

Cover the potato chunks and garlic cloves with cold water in a medium saucepan and bring to a boil on medium-high heat until tender.

Drain the water and add the butter, sour cream, salt, and pepper, and mash the potatoes until there is a smooth consistency.

When the pressure has subsided in the pressure cooker, create a slurry with the potato starch (about 2 oz water) and add in with the meat and veggies on medium-low heat.

Once the stew thickens, turn off the heat, remove the bay leaf, and pour it into an oven-safe casserole pan.

Top it with the potato mixture and evenly spread it out.

Bake for thirty minutes or more if you want the potato to brown.

Serves 4 – 6 people.

Beef Stroganoff

I have been very quiet since Friday, likely due to getting caught in one of autumn’s chilly nights without any notice and getting sick. Either I was wearing clothes reminiscent to summer (gym wear and flip flops) or someone who had it within my proximity passed it along to me. Regardless, I came down with some flu-cold combination and blogging was not my top priority. 

Luckily I was able to celebrate Mama Dazz’s birthday and hang out with friends that was long overdue. Saturday, the day I started feeling rather worn down and achy, was also my “experimenting in the kitchen success story” day. For her birthday I made her favorite pizza (with a yummy gluten free crust I made from scratch!) and a strawberry labneh cheesecake. Flamingos, sunflowers, and stargazer lilies were in abundance, and the house is slowly coming out of its clustered funk. 

Despite losing the desire to do much of anything (because sneezing and coughing and being delirious can do that to you), the creativity in my meals seemed to thrive. It was based on comfort, on the need to feel full and warm. I felt feverish and clammy, though my temperature varied from 96.7ºF and 98.4ºF. My digestion was even more temperamental than usual; actually, it was similar to the experience of being glutened. I was ravenous and extremely dehydrated throughout the day, eating to fill the emptiness in my stomach and drinking ease the dryness in my throat. I ate things that I remembered loving as a kid, meals served in a large mug or bowl, piping hot, sure to make any upset or sour stomach grateful for the nutrition.

And it all started with beef stroganoff.

Since becoming gluten free I had an issue with thickeners. It was similar to my issue with adding sugar to something naturally sweet already; why include something to make it a thicker consistency when it was delicious as is? Chili did just fine without that tablespoon or two of cornstarch, but for some reason beef stroganoff needed a slurry or roux to keep the sour cream from curdling when mixed with the broth. After recently making coq au vin, I realized the significance of the thickening process I once despised, and started incorporating it back into recipes that usually call for it.

This dish has its origins from 19th century Russia. Elena Molokhovets’ cookbook A Gift to Young Housewives (1861) was the first to provide the recipe in print, and the name is believed to derive from someone of importance within the Stroganov family. It has many variations around the world and is very popular in the United States, the UK, Scandinavia, Iran, Australia, Portugal, China, Japan, and Brazil. We used to eat it over egg noodles in the BGF days, but I found out it is just as delicious served over sprouted brown and wild rice.

Beef Stroganoff (Pressure Cooker version)

1 tbsp. Olive oil
10 oz Baby Bella mushrooms, thinly sliced
1 Sweet white onion, julienned and thinly chopped
1 Shallot, julienned and thinly chopped
3 Garlic cloves, coarsely chopped
1 tbsp. Chives, coarsely chopped
32 oz Water
1.5 lb Lean stew beef meat, cut into manageable chunks
1/2 tsp. Sea salt
1/4 tsp. Cracked pepper
1 tsp. Herb de Provence
1/2 tsp. Mustard Seed Powder
3 tbsp. Rice flour
9 oz Sour cream

Place the olive oil in the pressure cooker over medium-high heat and sauté the mushrooms, onion, shallot, garlic, and chives until softened and reduced.
Pour in the water and bring to a boil, then the meat and spices (sans the rice flour and sour cream).
Put the lid on the pressure cooker, and lower the heat to medium-low, cooking for at least half an hour.
Turn off the heat and let the pressure reduce on its own until the lid can be opened.
Take at least a cup of the broth and pour it into a small mixing bowl with the rice flour to make a slurry.
Turn the heat back on to medium-low, add in the slurry, and let the broth thicken for an additional 15 – 20 minutes.
After the broth has thickened, turn off the heat once more and fold in the sour cream until thoroughly combined.
Immediately serve over rice or your choice in pasta, garnished with fresh chives or spring onion.

Serves 4 – 6 people.

Honesty, Health, and Stew Beef Enchiladas

The beauty of the human condition is how broad personal experiences can be, especially when there is a willingness to share them with others. That is one of the reasons I started this blog in the first place; I want to share what I’ve learned and reflect the impact reading what others have experienced.

And I want to do it every time I post.

My next post: Spiraling Spirulina Oatmeal

There are two bloggers who’ve each posted an entry that really struck home for me. Shauna of Gluten-Free Girl and the Chef wrote about the dark side of blogging (titled "warm brown rice and grilled vegetable salad"), about how people choose to use the anonymity of the Internet to be cruel, and basically make themselves feel all-powerful by using hurtful words in attempt to belittle another.

No one has done this to me through my blog, but after the house fell through, one of the landlords’ kids (and once a friend of mine) sent me a message through Facebook saying how dare I disrespect my roommates and her home. Her last statement was this: “Good luck finding an apartment. I hope it takes you months.” It’s not like she was outlandishly malicious or anything, because she was angry and that’s how she felt. I responded with an “I’m sorry you feel that way…” sort of spiel and said I found a place that was just what I needed. As of now I am commuting to school from home, and as the consequence of living at home, I am slowly moving and unpacking all my things in the manner to my liking. The boyfriend is staying in the guest bedroom, and as mentioned in my last post, I am happier than I’ve been in months.

In a matter of days, however, new friends filled the void, and it just keeps getting better and better. Misery loves company, and it doesn’t like those who soar high overhead above it. Shauna embodies that tenfold. She has a life filled to the brim with joy and prosperity that some envy and possibly resent, so they nitpick the most ridiculous of things just to bring her down to their level. But she doesn’t go down, not even a centimeter; she simply flies even higher.

Yesterday, Iris of The Daily Dietribe wrote a post titled “Does She Really Have a Food Sensitivity or is it an Eating Disorder?” As I was reading, I couldn’t help but think how much it related to my experiences, particularly when people give me that “look” when I tell them I can’t eat something they made especially for me. It sucks when I go over to a house and know I can’t eat much or anything being offered, because that means I have to deny a very intimate connection that food seems to offer interpersonally. It sucks that I have to be so anal and paranoid when I go to a restaurant (if at all), sometimes even eating beforehand so my stomach won’t grumble as I watch people enjoy their orders. And yes, sometimes I do wonder if I have an eating sensitivity or if it is purely a psychological malfunction, an eating disorder that manifests discomfort every time I accidentally consume something on my “Red” list. Maybe it’s a bit of both, but all I know is I feel better not eating wheat, soy, refined sugars, artificial flavors and sweeteners, anything processed, and weird chemically things found in food I can’t pronounce.

So do I have a form of disordered eating? Maybe. Probably. I certainly used to be: excessively counting calories, limiting food intake, exercising a certain amount of calories at a time (also known as exercise bulimia), and had panic attacks when something not Morri-friendly entered in my system without my knowledge. I’m part of a cooking club at the University (Café GMU), and to make up for my inability to eat anything, even when gluten-free bread like Udi’s is being provided, I help in the kitchen and make people laugh. Do I wish I could taste the food? Of course I do. I always do. I never binged on food I restricted from my diet, but I dream about it often. Why, just last night I dreamed of pita bread rising in the oven, and the night before I dreamed of eating a muffin, a gluten-filled muffin. Sometimes in my dreams I wonder why I bother being gluten-free, and I take a bite and savor the taste with every chew until I swallow. Seconds later, I panic, and wake up wondering if I really did eat it because of the vividness of the act. It’s better than my reoccurring zombie nightmares, but still, it is always a very uncomfortable and upsetting thing to dream about.

I’m telling you this because these two amazing and strong women have been upfront and honest with what they go through, the good and the bad. As for me, the idea of being honest about the struggles behind the scenes seems, well, unnerving. I’ve talked about disordered eating and fanatically exercising before, but I didn’t talk about the things beneath the surface. I never talked about my hypothyroid condition in length, or how my bowels and digestion were delicate and fickle. And because I was afraid of people I knew thinking what I wrote to be a “too much information” sort of thing, I didn’t mention my hormones being topsy-turvy because my menstrual cycle was either obscenely light or non-existent.

Well, I’m being honest now.

Last year, from May to about February, I went nine months with only one period from that summer up to coming back to Mason from my semester in Sweden. That was before I was diagnosed with a hypothyroid, and it may have been that I was simply not eating enough for my body to believe I wasn’t starving. Regardless, I felt less of a woman, and it impacted my life more I than I realized. That’s what happened on Friday; after a four-month hiatus, Lady Red came to town. Something shifted, and immediately I realized my down-in-the-dumps attitude was because of an extended version of pre-menstrual symptoms (a better terminology for PMS), that made me fatigued, in a funk, not wanting to fix what I could fix, and wanting to hide under the covers until it was all over. Suddenly I felt connected to the world and The Way. The stress went away and those little things that affected me so negatively don’t even exist anymore. I am able to keep up with my classes and still make time for CARmunity as Director of Student Representatives and Diplomatic Affairs in S/CAR. I have the energy to go to the gym and was pleasantly surprised that I wasn’t as bad off as I thought I was. The current I fought so hard against is flowing to my pace, and I am beyond ecstatic and feel amazing. 

Stew Beef Enchilada

1.5 lbs. Lean stew beef meat, cut into manageable chunks
1 can (14.5 oz) Diced tomatoes
1 tsp. Chili powder
1 tsp. Chipotle powder
1 tsp. Paprika
1 tsp. Cumin
1 tsp. Trader Joe’s smoked sea salt (or whatever salt you have on hand)
1/4 tsp. Cracked pepper
1 tbsp. Unsweetened cocoa powder
3 tbsp. Olive oil
1 Shallot
3 Garlic cloves
8 oz Filtered water
8 oz Riesling
1 1/2 Green zucchini (medium-sized), finely grated
2 Carrots, finely grated
10 oz Ricotta
1 can (14 oz) Black beans, drained
12 Trader Joe’s Corn Tortillas
2.5 oz Pecorino Romano, finely grated

Preheat the oven to 375ºF.
With a pressure cooker or large pot, grease the bottom generously with olive oil and cook the meat on medium-high heat.
Put in the blender the tomatoes, spices, oil, shallot, garlic, and the water and blender until thoroughly pureed.
After the outside of the meat is cooked, though still raw in the middle, put half of the sauce including the Riesling in with the meat and cover the pressure cooker or pot with the lid, and cook of medium-low heat for at least half an hour.
Using a fork or a wooden spoon, tear apart the stew beef chunks into individual strands.
Grease a deep 9x9” pan and start the layering process, beginning with 4 tortillas on the bottom, then veggies, ricotta, meat, and beans, repeating once more with some of the sauce splashed throughout.
Top with the last 4 tortillas, the remaining sauce, and the Pecorino Romano.
Bake for 45 minutes to an hour until the cheese has browned and the sauce is bubbling.

Makes 6 – 8 servings.

Steak Kabobs & Savory Rice Muffins

Even two days after Sunday (as I publish this post… make that three), the day of baby showers, concerts, and blog events (oh my), I still am at a loss of words to poetically describe what is forever engraved in my mind. I mean, how can one illustrate the love and happiness I saw in that restaurant?  What fun to see children and adults alike as they attempted to trick others into mentioning anything baby-related to get one another’s clothes pins for the coveted prize. How can I efficiently write about the magnificence and the beauty of people from different backgrounds, cultures, and cycles of life, coming together to celebrate a new life coming into this world in August? The aroma of the food was heavy in the air, delicious and spicy and warm. There was rice, tandoori, kabobs, fritters, salad, fruit, rice pudding, and cake. 

Truthfully I only ate some of the rice, a few salad pieces, and a bit of the chicken, but I can happily say that I was not glutened… and it was good. So good, in fact, that Deshi Spice is definitely a restaurant I intend on trying again. Mama Dazz also wants me to dabble in the cuisine, so I’ll have to ask our neighbors how it’s done.

And then, there was the concert.  

The Indigo Girls were just as amazing performing live on stage as I remember Mama Dazz and I singing along to their CD on our many adventures. Their music was our soundtrack in Arizona, in North Carolina, at various beaches and for plenty of day trips. I grew up with their voices influencing how I perceived the world around me, making it a more vibrant and profound place to be in. Their words echoed everywhere I went that it seemed like all my experiences were all just one Indigo Girl’s song. I couldn’t tell you which of their songs are my favorite, because I don’t know them all. The majority of the songs they sang on Sunday were ones I’d never even heard before. But they still affected me like they always have. I stared down from my box seat on the upper level of the pavilion, much of their bodies saturated with the stage lights, very much in awe and entranced with the music that surrounded me. I was so overcome with emotion that my eyes filled with tears more than once, and even now I couldn’t tell you why. 

Amy Ray and Emily Saliers. The Indigo Girls. These women are supernatural, with voices singing loud and clear, whose spirits are even larger than Wolf Trap has a capacity to hold. 

 

Oh, and let us not forget the band that not only introduced them, but is part of their tour: the Shadowboxers.

Like the Indigo Girls, the Shadowboxers also hail from Atlanta. The members seemed to be around my age, as they mentioned having graduated from college in May (I mention this because life after graduation seemed so unreal to me, but seeing these post-graduates eased my mind regarding my own future… mainly because they were clearly doing something they loved). They have quite a unique sound that, much like the Indigo Girls a decade before, immediately had me spellbound. Their voices harmonized wonderfully, the instruments were very well played, and they had this New Band look to them that I hope they never lose. The fun they had simply being at Wolf Trap was apparent the minute they walked on stage. They jumped and they danced. They smiled and they sang. They were having a ball, and it was a pleasure to be part of it. 

And thank you, Dad, for sharing it with me. Happy (early) Father's Day.

I wish these talented individuals all the joy in the world. For those in the United States, be sure the look up where their tour is heading, because it is something that will stay with you forever. I promise you it is worth the travel.

Tonight’s – well, last night’s – dinner was inspired from the cuisine Mama Dazz and I enjoyed last weekend. Leftover rice and raw vegetables are very abundant in this household, and I wanted to find a way to make some room in the fridge but still make the meal interesting and different. Lisa from Lisa’s Kitchen specializes in healthy Indian cooking, and my adaptation of her rice muffins was the perfect accompaniment to the kabobs. 

Steak Kabobs and Savory Rice Muffins

For the Kabobs:
16 oz Tri-tip steak
1 Yellow bell pepper
1 Red onion
1 Roma tomato
8 Garlic cloves
Salt and pepper, to taste
Olive oil

4 Wooden skewers, soaked for six hours
Aluminum foil
Preheat the oven to 375°F.
Cut the steak, pepper, onion, and tomato into manageable pieces, leaving the garlic cloves whole.
Place the pieces onto the skewers, and put the kabobs on a baking sheet lightly greased with the olive oil (there will be leftover onion chunks that can be put around the pan).
Rotate the kabobs so the olive oil is evenly distributed (drizzle more if you prefer), then shake the desired amount of salt and pepper on top.
Cover the baking sheet with aluminum foil and put it in the oven for 35 – 40 minutes.

Makes 4 kabob skewers. Serves 4 people.

For the rice muffins:
5 oz Brown rice flour
2.5 oz Glutinous rice flour
2.5 oz Potato starch
8 oz Short grain brown rice
1 tsp. Baking soda
1 tsp. Italian seasoning
1/2 tsp. Sea salt
5 oz. Milk
2 oz. Water
2 oz. Butter, softened
3 lg. Eggs
3.5 oz Ricotta cheese

1 tbsp. Agave nectar

Preheat the oven to 350°F.
Combine the dry ingredients in a mixing bowl.
In another mixing bowl, stir in the wet ingredients with the rice.
Add the wet ingredients with the dry until a consistent batter it formed.
Place the batter in a greased muffin tin, filled to the rim.
Bake for 30 minutes or until a knife comes out clean.

Makes 12 muffins.

The Creative Mind & Philly Cheesesteak Stuffed Green Peppers

I’ve always believed a Creative Mind is a terrible thing to waste. A good friend of mine asked me, after recently sampling a few of my meals, how I was able to come up with my recipes. I was rather baffled by the question, because it never occurred to me that making up recipes as I cooked them was anything special. Sometimes, they turned out amazing. And sometimes… well, not so much.

The Creative Mind is a wondrous entity. It’s that little voice in your head that gives you an image, a word, a recipe, an equation, a feeling, or all of the above. For cooking, it may tell you that a combination of flavors or ingredients may or may not work, encouraging you to go out of your comfort zone. If it didn’t turn out as you expected and/or wanted, this voice will not criticize or yell. Rather, it may say what could be done differently the next time and to try it again. It turns flops into learning experiences. It turns the process of making a meal into an adventure. It turns the meal into a cornucopia of insight.

I find it interesting how my week of R & R was my Creative Mind’s time to producing one amazing recipe after another in my mind’s eye, resulting in meals I never considered until I made them. Most of the recipes I didn’t even take photos of, though I did write them down for future reference. My Creative Mind shined through this week, and more often than not I was in the kitchen, making a mess or two.

For a moment I feared that cooking was replacing my other artistic loves, partially because it has been years since I’ve written poetry on a regular basis or drew more than a sketch in a college notebook. The only thing I’ve really photographed lately has been food and/or blog-related, not like the plethora of photos of people, places, and my viewpoints of life as I’d done six months before. Now I realize I haven’t lost my artistic talents, but they have evolved into a specific focus as opposed to having many fingers in many cooking pots. Cookery is the art form that allows me to share my work with others in a way I’ve never been able to do with my other artistic talents.

To strengthen your Creative Mind in regards to cooking, I recommend looking for inspiration everywhere you can, whether it be from cookbooks, television shows, blogs, family members, and friends. I have a tendency to stray away from recipes, particularly because my Creative Mind likes to think it came up with the idea on its own (but I do give credit where it is due, and will always link to the original recipe or site my source).

When you have an idea, whether it be directed to a certain ingredient, cuisine, or food type, picture it in your Mind’s Eye using all the senses. Imagine what it will Look like, from start to finish. Visualize the Sounds that will come from making the dish. Envision the Smells wafting from the product. Think of how it [utensils, bakeware, and ingredients] would Feel in your hands, then in your mouth, as you Taste it. I like to balance meals, but at the same time use ingredients that many wouldn’t think of as compatible. When I’m unsure, I have a tendency to smell ingredients side by side, or taste the combination of flavors when I can. If it doesn’t smell or taste “right” to you and your Creative Mind, it may not turn out the way you’re expecting. One thing I stress, however, is that looks can be deceiving so try not to solely base a recipe on sight alone.

(source)

Sometimes, the best way you can enhance your Creative Mind is by taking a classic and putting your own twist to make it unique. To quote one of my favorite gastro-adventurers of all time, Bizarre Foods’ Andrew Zimmern, “If it looks good, eat it.” But I say unto you, “If you can think it, make it.”

The only person keeping you from making a fabulous meal is yourself.

 Philly Cheesesteak Stuffed Green Peppers

3 Green bell peppers, halved vertically
1 Medium white onion, halved vertically and sliced into thin shreds
3 Garlic cloves, finely diced
12 – 16 oz Shaved beefsteak, coarsely chopped into manageable, bite-sized pieces
10 shakes (1/2 tsp.) Red chili pepper flakes
1 tsp Salt
3 slices of Fontina cheese, cut into 6 pieces
3 thick slices Large tomato, cut into crescents

Preheat the oven to 350°F.
In a large steaming pot (or skillet filled up to an inch of water), steam the peppers on high heat until soft.
In a large greased skillet, cook the onions, garlic, salt, and pepper flakes until the onions are translucent and soft on medium heat.
Add the shaved beefsteak and stir until the steak is fully cooked and the ingredients thoroughly mixed.
On a greased baking sheet (or lined with parchment or aluminum), place the peppers facing up.
Using tongs, put the beefsteak-onion filling into the peppers.
Lay the cheese slices on top, and the tomato crescents on top of the cheese.
Sprinkle salt and pepper as garnish, and put them into the oven for 15 minutes. (You can also broil to slightly brown the tops for three minutes after the 15 minutes are up.)
Top with sour cream and serve with a side of rice.

Makes 6 stuffed pepper halves. Serves 3 as a main course, and 6 as a starter.

Combatting Stress with Saucy Spaghetti Q’s and More-Than-Meatballs

I should be studying for my final exam tomorrow. I should be studying for my final(s) next week. I should be packing up my things and slowly moving back home. I should be doing a lot of things, but am I doing them? 

Sadly, no.

Instead, I’m downing a steaming cup of espresso with steamed whole milk and thinking of what to write for today’s post, trying to keep my eyes open while I await the arrival of my late dinner guests. Today was the first day in such a long time that all was quiet and peaceful (save for waking up two hours earlier than I wanted to, in tears, from a nightmare). I got to extend my morning routine past noon, wearing my bloodthirsty bunny slippers with pride. I got to run five miles without having to be elsewhere immediately afterward. Sure, I was productive; I ran five miles after all, and I did a load of laundry while putting away dishes.

This week has been stressful, and most of it had little to do with academics. I said goodbye to old friends, of whom it may be quite some time until I see them again. The boyfriend is leaving on Saturday for his annual summer internship (this time in Texas), and I am trying to be strong about that. I’ve taken a break from “grains” for a bit, and have been trying out different types of breakfasts in the morning. And after the semester ends, when I’m officially moved out of campus housing and back into the parental units’ abode, I’m cleansing my system for a week.

I’m doing all I can to take care of myself, but sometimes I feel it isn’t enough.

Just for the record, I am compensating my lack of grain intake with other food and I’m sleeping a good number of hours a night. But when I look at the study guides and the take-home exam for my four classes, my eyes glaze over and I look for other things to do.

Also, tomorrow’s exam is probably the one I’m going to do the best on (besides the take-home final), simply because it’s my favorite class this semester taught by one of my favorite professors in S/CAR. But when you get right down the things you have to do in a day/week/month like I do, life tends to overwhelm you. No matter how well you hide it, the stress builds up and all you want to do is laze on a hammock and listen to music that comforts you (Carlos Santana, Tori Amos, Chris Botti, and the Indigo Girls come to mind). 

I think I have a hammock around here… somewhere.

On Monday I told Cheryl all the things that were simultaneously going on in my life, how the calorie counting and poor body image had returned, how simply being seemed simply impossible, how the future seemed hazy, how isolated I felt from the people that mattered most to me, how I wanted to try grain-free living for a week or so, then a cleanse after school let out.

She answered my frustrations, questions, and fears with a story:

(source)

Mara Comes for Tea - Retold from Thich Nhat Hanh's Heart of Understanding

One day the Buddha was sitting in meditation in his cave while his most trusted disciple, Ananda, was outside collecting food for their next mealtime. Ananda looked up from his chores when he saw, coming toward the cave, the Buddha's nemesis, Mara. Mara was a demon king who sought to prevent the Buddha from reaching enlightenment beneath the bodhi tree. Since then he had continued to be a perpetual thorn in the Buddha's side, so to speak, cultivating greed, desire and hatred in men. Ananda new this and was immediately enraged by his appearance at the Buddha's cave.

Ananda approached Mara: "Get out of here! The Buddha does not wish to have his cave invaded by demons!"

Mara replied: "Go and ask him for yourself. I simply wish to speak with your master."

Reluctantly and nervously Ananda did as the demon king asked and entered the Buddha's cave. "World Honored One, the demon king, Mara approaches your cave and seeks an audience with you. I have already instructed him to leave but he insisted I ask you myself."

The Buddha's eyes opened from his meditation and he smiled, widely. "Mara is here? Really? It has been so long since we have spoken. Yes, yes, ready some tea and invite him in and we'll talk."

Dumbfounded, Ananda did as the Buddha asked, putting a pot on the fire to boil and then going outside to tell Mara that he was welcome in the Buddha's cave. "As I knew I would be, little Ananda," said the demon king arrogantly, brushing past the Buddha's humble disciple.

When Mara entered the cave the Buddha rose to his feet, nearly leaping into the air with excitement. "Mara, my good friend, it has been so long since we have seen each other. Please sit, have some tea and tell me why you have come to visit."

Ananda was very nervous now and listened to the conversation between his master and the demon. Mara sipped his tea slowly and then spoke. "Buddha, things are not going well. I wish to be something else. Something other than Mara."

"But, Mara, you are so good at being Mara. Remember when you sent images of sense pleasures and warnings of how difficult it would be for me to fully reach enlightenment when I sat beneath the bodhi tree? That was a fantastic job of being Mara. I really had to struggle to get where I am now. I truly owe you a debt of gratitude."

Now Ananda was getting very fearful. He did not like the idea of Buddha having a debt of gratitude to Mara. This was very upsetting but he listened further.

"Well, I suppose you are right," said Mara, "but being Mara I always have to be sneaking around in the shadows, talking in riddles and half-truths. It is such hard work always trying to think of the best things to say and do. I just...I think it would be easier to be something else. And the worst part: my disciples are now talking of non-duality, peace, social justice, non-violence...it is so frustrating being Mara. I think it would be much better if you took my disciples. Maybe we could switch for a while? You could be Mara and I could try being Buddha?"

At this request Ananda's heart really began to pound. He knew that his master had just said he owed Mara a debt and he also knew how profound his master's compassion truly was. He had seen him give to others when he had almost nothing. He was terrified that he would now become the disciple of Mara and the Buddha would become a demon king. No worse thought was imaginable.

The Buddha thought. He sipped his tea. And then he spoke: "Mara, do you think it is just frustrating being Mara? Being the Buddha is equally...no, doubly frustrating, I guarantee. You think you have trouble with your disciples? Mine put words in my mouth and write them into "sutras" that I have never said. I teach them about non-attachment to material things and what do they do? They build stupas and erect shrines in my name! They even build enormous statues of me out of gold just to pray to even though I have told them time and time again that I am not a god. And they sell trinkets in temples with my words blazed upon them. It is an absolute pain. But I do not give up being Buddha because that is what I am."

Mara sighed and vanished into the shadows. Ananda felt slightly relieved but continued to worry that one day Mara would get what he ultimately wanted.

Mara is Sanskrit for delusion, for the things we fear most and things that block our way to personal enlightenment. Mara is the demons that keep us from seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, the monsters in the labyrinth, the fears that drive us to insomnia.

It is human nature to avert our minds from the things that frighten us or, in my case, stresses us out. For me, inviting Mara to tea is a frequent affair, but it is one I like to keep short. As a conflict resolution major, we are taught to know ourselves, what our triggers are, what we are feeling and why.

Does that mean that the men and women of this discipline are calm and collected every hour of the day? No, it doesn’t. Mara is just as scary and intimidating, but I believe we can name our personal Mara much easier. 

So, if I invited Mara to tea (and maybe offer it this recipe as well), what would it reflect back to me across the table? Mara would reflect doubt in my abilities, uncertainty in my future, isolation from friends and family, loneliness from busy life I lead, lack of motivation, the frustrations of my health, my hunger, the stress of being in college… I could go on.

Naming Mara is half the battle, but it is a crucial step to getting to where you want to be. Mara will come and go, but you are the constant variable in the equation. As long as I remember that, all the current fears, stresses, and frustrations will pass.

In the mean time, as I’m all about comfort these days, this recipe took me back to those days when I was home sick and Campbell’s canned SpaghettiO’s were always in the pantry where I could reach.

So for those dealing with finals and graduation and other stressful things, I wish you all the luck in the world. Just take it one step at a time and, before you know it, it will be one less thing to fret about. And as for this recipe, anything with meatballs is the quintessence of comfort in my book.

Saucy Spaghetti Q’s and More-Than-Meatballs

For the meatballs
1 lb. Ground beef
1 c. Frozen petite peas, thawed
1/2 White onion, finely diced
1 Large egg
1 tsp. Dijon mustard
1/2 tsp. Crushed garlic

1 tbsp. Olive oil, for the skillet
1/3 – 1/2 c. water, for the skillet

For the Sauce
1 15 oz can Tomato sauce
1/2 Red onion, coarsely chopped
7 Baby Bella mushrooms, thinly sliced
1 Zucchini, quartered and thinly slices
Salt and pepper, to taste
Red pepper flakes, optional

For the Spaghetti Q’s
1 c. or more of Quinoa, cooked in your method of choice (typically the water-quinoa ratio is 2:1, but check the box for instructions anyway)

Combine the ingredients for the More-Than-Meatballs (excluding the oil and water) in a large bowl until thoroughly combined.
Add the oil and water in a large pot or deep skillet over medium heat.
Make the meatballs into whatever size you wish (I wanted particularly small ones, so I used the 1/4 c. measuring cup and split that into two meatballs), and place them into the pot or skillet.
Let the meatballs cook for about five minutes, then add the ingredients for the sauce.
Cover and cook on medium to low heat for thirty minutes. (During this time, you can cook the quinoa if you haven’t done so already.)
Once all of the parts of the meal are ready, place in the desired helping of quinoa at the bottom of each bowl and top with meatballs and sauce.
Garnish with your choice of cheese and/or sour cream (I used ricotta and it was delicious!).

Serves 4.

Protein Packed BBQ (Beef, Bean, & Quinoa) Patties with Cornbread Rounds

Arr! Thar be photos ahead!

As the spring semester comes to a close, exams are just around the corner and student anxieties are on the rise. Last week alone I was going to bed late working on one thing or another, and then having to get up early to do something else. By Friday the family and I were doing the finishing touches for our weekend camping trip (some of the photos are posted), and it happened.  

 

(Various photos of the fam at the campsite)

I crashed. 

The maypole ceremony

My heart was beating so loud from my chest it felt like the bells of Notre Dame were tolling. I had a slight fever at 99°F, and simply standing took the breath out of me. Tears streamed from my eyes in panic, my mind racing from one thought to another. I didn’t have time for this; I had packing to do and things to help out with. Nausea resulted from the simultaneous pains from my head and stomach, and my limbs were shaking. Mama Dazz sent me back to bed to lie down. I ended up sleeping for two hours.

The Burt-man in thought

This is what happens when your body to tells you to slow down while on Armour Thyroid.

As mentioned previously, I was/am a Worrier. Once I become worried, it takes quite a lot of effort to calm me down. I used to have anxiety attacks quite often. I was so busy focusing on things I couldn’t control or the lists upon lists of things I had to do that I forgot how it affected me in the present. 

Things don’t bother me as much anymore. I’ve had a lot of training in this department: people, books, philosophies, and life in general. I discovered Taoism the summer between my freshman and sophomore years in college from The Tao of Pooh and The Te of Piglet by Benjamin Hoff. (Actually, I had the idea of Taoism in my head before I knew what Taoism was. It was a there’s-actually-a-discipline-to-my-personal-beliefs kind of thing.) The idea of simply "being" had such a phenomenal impact on my teenage brain that I spent that summer and the semester following feeling one with the Universe.

But here’s the reality: simply being is freaking hard. When there is more money leaving your wallet than there is coming into your bank account, classes to attend, drama to avoid, the whole “Oneness with the Universe” concept seems like a hard thing to accomplish, no matter how noble and desirous it is. There is one part of Taoism that has never failed me and saw me through the bumps in the road: trusting the Universe to sort itself out.

I learned that summer to get out of my own way, to trust in the precise workings of the Universe to smooth out the rough edges. Sometimes the end result may not be what you wanted or expected, but it almost always is what you needed. The lessons in our lives will continue repeating themselves until we get the message, until the lesson is learned. We are happy when we focus on the things we can control and miserable when we focus on uncontrollables.

This reminder was a hard one for me to grasp. 

 

(More fab fam photos)

Regardless of the Friday morning feeling useless, the rest of my weekend camping was a blast. My extended family and I packed multiple cars and headed to Stanardsville, Virginia, to celebrate the coming of May (also known as Beltaine). Groups that ranged from two to fifteen people were there with the overall census of fewer than two hundred pitched up tents and outside kitchens. Many were dressed in a Renaissance festival or gypsy garb, while others stuck to typical camping apparel. There were venders selling an assortment of wonders surrounding a large bonfire circle, next to the maypole where the May King and Queen were handfasted. There were train cars modified into living quarters, each with a bathroom, a kitchen, a common area, and a bedroom. Drumming and laughter could be heard throughout the night while various holistic arts were taught during the day.

 

 

I thought this was the coolest thing!

I was still rather lethargic from Friday morning’s episode, so I didn’t wander from camp often, except to see the maypole ceremony, to visit a family friend for lunch, and to use the facilities. Much of my time was spent taking pictures of the people I loved, the campground, the food, and reading Gaiman and Pratchett’s Good Omens.

(Photos of food... XD)

Gluten free chili

I have to admit I was a tad worried about what I would be eating on this trip. I anticipated not being able to eat much of what the others would be eating and packed accordingly: Granny Smith apples, So Delicious unsweetened coconut milk, raw vegetables, rolled oats, a can of beans, raisins, almond butter, almond slivers, two kinds of already cooked rice, potatoes, and canned salmon.

My family wasn’t having that. 

Half of the stuff I brought came back with us, simply because I was accommodated for the main meal. We had two types of chili, both Morri friendly (but one was made with my own spice blend), with quinoa on the side. The breakfasts were also Morri-friendly, but I tend towards hot cereals in the mornings.

And of course, there was coffee.

This weekend further proved how much I love my family, even adding a few more on the roster.

By Monday, I was having an off morning, and it may or may not have been because of the news that the whole world seemed to be watching. Things were not going according to plan. Half of me really wanted to just lie on the couch and watch cartoons all day, to forget how the real world can be a scary and unforgiving place. By my Tai Chi class, that changed completely.

I truly believe Tai Chi is Taoism in movement (which, incidentally enough, it actually is). For the majority of the classes I had been having a hard time memorizing the form, completely forgetting parts and simply frustrated with the right hand being dominant (I’m left-handed) with the sword. Except for slight mistakes that were easily fixable, I was able to do the entire form yesterday, with and without a group.

It was a small victory, but one such as this truly makes all the difference.

And then, there was dinner with the boyfriend. While I was out camping he went to Nashville, Tennessee, to participate in a half-marathon run with a mutual friend. He regaled me with his misadventures and achievements while I cooked up a new inspiration, showing off his new cowboy boots with the smug attitude of being taller (he and I are practically the same size, except he is a centimeter or so taller). In two weeks he will be gone until late August for an internship in Texas, so dinners (any meal, really) like this one will be happening as often as we can before he leaves.

Protein Packed BBQ (Beef, Bean, & Quinoa) Patties with Cornbread Rounds

For the patties
1 lb. Ground Beef
1 c. Refried Beans (I used Trader Joe’s refried black beans with jalapeños)
1 c. Cooked Quinoa
1/4 tsp. Sea salt (may be omitted, as the end result is rather salty)
2 tsp. Crushed garlic
Red chili pepper flakes (optional)

For the sauce
1 c. Trader Joe’s Garlic Chipotle Salsa
1 c. Water

Thoroughly combine the ingredients for the patties in a large mixing bowl.
Place a skillet (I recommend your biggest one) on medium heat with your choice of cooking oil coating the bottom.
Scoop up the mixture in 1/4 c. increments (or larger in you prefer) and form them into patties (give or take, 10 to 12) onto the skillet.
After a few minutes, add the water and salsa into the skillet, cover the pan, and allow to cook for ten minutes.
Flip over the patties, reduce the heat to medium-low, and let cook for another five minutes until done (the result will be softer than your typical burger patty, but it should still feel rather firm in the middle).

Makes 11 patties. Serve with cornbread rounds and a side of French-cut green beans.

* Even though I used 1 ounce less of fat than what Ruhlman calls for, the result still gave a greasy crumb, though it tasted wonderful and had a wonderful crust. (So, to my fellow gluten free bloggers of the GF Ratio Rally, any tips on how to fix this?)

Cornbread Rounds

3 oz Cornmeal
2 oz Arrowroot starch
2 oz Amaranth
1 oz Millet
0.5 oz Agave nectar
1/2 tsp. Sea Salt
2 tsp. Baking powder
8 oz. Whole milk
2 Large eggs
3 oz Coconut oil, room temperature)

Preheat oven to 350ºF.
Combine the flours, baking powder, and salt in a medium-sized bowl.
Using a blender, combine the milk, eggs, coconut oil, and agave nectar until it has a smooth consistency. (This is important for the coconut oil, as it hardened on contact with the milk.)
Pour the wet ingredients into the bowl, and mix the wet and dry ingredients using a whisk or hand-held blender until thoroughly combined.
Pour the batter into muffin tins (greased or wrapper-lined).
The muffins take about 50 minutes to bake, but check to make sure they are done with a toothpick or knife.

Makes 8 – 12 muffins.