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.

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.

Why Cooking Together is the Best Thing You Can Do as a Couple

Yesterday, CK and I celebrated his birthday. During the time when he is in Rome and I am in Malta, we have gotten really good at the whole long distance thing. I've had quite few people ask me how it is we're able to handle the distance, especially since it's been almost 1.5 years now. The truth is that the situation isn't always sunshine and rainbows. Sometimes, the distance gets to us. Sometimes, it feels like we'll be long distance forever. But the way we combat it is planning the future (be it trips or what it will take for us to be living together at the start of 2015) and using Skype during our time apart.

Skype has made long distance relationships so much easier to manage. We Skype daily and do things together that way: gaming, reading to each other, watching movies, doing our own thing while the other is working on something else, and cooking. Cacio e pepe was the first of much foodie fun we’ve done via Skype, and it’s brought me to the conclusion that cooking together provides a series of lessons in improving how you interact as a couple.

CK and I in Rome a couple weeks ago. (Yes, I've cut my hair...)

Photo's courtesy of CK's Mama Bear

CK is the first person that has consistently shown interest in cooking with me from start (prep) to finish (on the plate). Quality time is so important to me, and that it can be done in a tangible way that we can both enjoy has made our relationship so fulfilling. For years I made meals for my family, usually by myself (it was my responsibility at home when I wasn't at school or working), so imagine my surprise when someone insisted on being part of the process! 

I believe the reason why Meals with Morri has been so quiet lately has to do with the fact that I’m not cooking meals for others anymore. It takes out all the fun to make something when there isn't anyone to enjoy it with you or to say it's "blog worthy" (thanks, Mama Dazz). Since coming to Malta, I’ve cooked plenty, but the desire to make recipes and take photos just didn't seem so appealing anymore. But with overcoming homesickness and loneliness, I’ve started working with baker’s yeast again. I am healing from various fears that revolved around eating (like fried food and treating myself to dessert now and then), and I’m actually eating to thrive and not to simply eat enough. And finally, after months of being in a funk, making recipes with the aim to share it with the world seems like fun again.   

Cooking together is an amazing form of communication. I’ve struggled with being upfront with my emotions and what I needed, but you can’t be anything less than direct in the kitchen. You can’t say “Maybe I need you to crack some eggs” or “You don’t have to grate the cheese if you don’t want to even though I need it done and I'm currently sauteing the onions.” You can’t expect someone you’re making a dish with know that you wanted them to preheat the oven or get water boiling unless you let them know that’s what you want. A chef doesn’t expect their kitchen to be mind readers, and neither should you expect or be expected to read your partner’s mind. You also learn to honor your feelings without the need to justify them.

Another aspect of cooking together is honoring the support you give and receive, and understanding the balance of giving and taking. Sometimes that means there is a kitchen leader, where one of you calls the shots (gives directions), and the other follows and does what is needed as instructed. Having a gluten free blog doesn't automatically make me the leader all the time. In fact, when he makes me soup or takes over cooking when I'm stressed out or sick is the most amazing thing ever. From this balance of power I’ve learned it’s okay to be selfish and to say no once in a while, that you can and should make time for yourself when the need arises. Having the right to say no and not be sorry for it is a new commodity for me, and it also means giving you and your partner some slack to not having to be on all the time.

My motivation to posting also declined when a recipe wasn't just right...

I try to tell him how much I appreciate our time together in the kitchen as often as I can. I know he isn’t doing it because he thinks it will make me happy, and that is really important to the both of us. He doesn’t feel obliged, and it isn’t one-sided. He tells me how empowered he has become learning the art of gluten free (and vegetarian) cooking, making more things from scratch than he ever did before we met. And he’s transitioned from the stance that the ‘gluten-free’ aspect of the recipe has to taste like it isn’t. Like everyone new to gluten free cooking, we initially try to replace and substitute wheat/gluten in such a way that is has to look and taste and act like it isn’t gluten free, so now it isn’t ‘gluten free’ waffles or ‘gluten free’ muffins… just waffles or muffins. He doesn’t say “Hey! This is pretty good… for gluten free.” He says, “Oh my God, this is amazing” or “We should try it [this] way next time.” I cannot emphasize the importance of sincerity, and that is a very significant piece as to why our relationship works so well (both in and out of the kitchen, while we’re together and when we’re doing the long distance thing). Throughout the stress of finishing up grad school, living alone in Malta, and job searching for 2015, he helped bring back the spark in making amazing meals and enjoying good food. We have quite a list of foodstuff we want to make, and hopefully we can turn it into a webshow soon after I’ve gotten a grasp on filming and editing.  

One of CK’s favorite flavors in baked goods is lemon poppy, so we decided to make lemon poppy quick bread and drink margaritas over Skype. It was a combination of Ruhlman’s ratio for quick bread and this recipe. Neither of us had a zester, so we used lemon juice instead. He also used yogurt instead of milk, and he said that it worked really well. After singing him happy birthday and cheering as he blew out the tea light candle, we toasted with the margaritas and enjoyed our lemon poppy creations.

CK's photo of his Lemon Poppy Quick Bread

The moral of the story is that love doesn't just happen. True love isn't true because it's perfect: it takes work, communication, honesty, sincerity, and appreciation. If you want to improve any relationship, be it parent-child, partner-partner, sibling-sibling, friend-friend, or me-myself-and-I, try being in the kitchen more often and make something that you can enjoy together. 

Lemon Poppy Quick Bread / Muffins

120 g Brown rice flour
120 g Garbanzo bean flour
120 g Honey
1 tsp. Sea salt
1 tsp. Baking soda
240 ml Whole milk
2 Large eggs
120 g butter, melted (if salted, omit sea salt)
4 tbsp. or 80 ml Lemon juice
4 tbsp. or 28 g Poppy seeds

Preheat the oven to 350°F or 175°C, and grease the pan (a 12-cup muffin tin or a 9.5” pie pan) with your oil of choice.
In one medium-large bowl, combine the dry ingredients (flours, salt [unless omitted], baking soda, and poppy seeds and set aside.
In another bowl, combine the eggs, milk and honey, and add the mixture to the dry ingredients.
Add the rest of the ingredients to the batter, and pour it into the pan.
Bake for 50 minutes to one hour, or until the top is golden brown and the knife is clean when you check for doneness.

Makes 1 quick bread/12 muffins, or 8 – 12 servings.

When [He's] in Rome

Long distance relationships are hard. It takes a lot of effort to keep one going while separated, but it is doable. And with the right person, it’s worth it.

In our second stretch of time that we’ve been apart, we’ve really made the effort to show that the relationship is important to us. We Skype almost every day: talking about how our day went, complete with its triumphs and grievances. The important thing in any relationship is keeping the line of communication open, but it’s absolutely fascinating how many couples tend to forget that.

The other thing we do during our talks is watch Babylon 5 episodes at the same time together. He got me hooked on the series when he was visiting over the summer, and it is an activity that helps us feel connected despite his being 4500 miles away. We’ll watch one, at most three, and I’ll hear him giggle at my expressions.

(My Can't-Look-Away Expression)

(My Season Finale Expression)

Lately, he’s been having a lack of motivation where meals are concerned. He’s a lot like me in that regard; unless it’s a moment shared with people we care about, food is typically considered food and nothing more. Sure, we are creative with leftovers and think of new things of make, but the spark of cooking just isn’t there. So we came up with a plan to use Skype for more than witty banter and Babylon 5 marathons.

Now, we use it in the kitchen.

I don’t know who decided what the dish would be, but the point of this act of connecting was the following:

1. It would be the same dish.
2. It would be from the same recipe.
3. It would be prepared, cooked, and eaten simultaneously. (My lunchtime is his dinnertime, so it works out beautifully.)

Even 4500 miles away, we can still cook together.

The dish was a Roman classic: Spaghetti Cacio e Pepe. Any Roman will emphasize that it has three ingredients and only three ingredients. Always. No exceptions.

Cheese + Black pepper + Pasta = Delizioso. 

He got the recipe off of the Tales of Ambrosia site, and although I used gluten free pasta and the wrong cheese (It was a Pecorino Romano / Parmesan blend), it was absolutely divine.

I loved her trick of putting the serving bowl on top of the pot to heat it up with steam. The only differences were I made a fourth of the recipe (enough for one really hungry person or two just hungry enough persons) and I simply mixed the ingredients in the drained pot before putting it on the hot plate. Oh, and using a blend of cheeses. (I can already feel the Romans cringing from here…)

(image source)

I still stand by my statement in saying that Tinkyáda’s® Rice Pasta is the best I’ve encountered in my gluten-free journey thus far. We use many of their products in our noodle dishes, and their spaghetti pasta was perfect to use in this recipe. Did I mention it slurps like semolina-based pasta?

Now that's what I call quality.

My Boyfriend, The Vegetarian

His being vegetarian isn’t his only redeeming quality. He’s smart, funny, compassionate, handsome, and he believes in our relationship. He believes in making us work as much as I do. 

Air & Space Museum (see us?)

For the better part of 2013, he was my best-kept secret. Only a handful of people in my family and friendship circles even knew we were dating.  In fact, let me narrate the following conversation between my cousin and I:

Her: So Morri, I saw from Facebook that your relationship started in December of last year (we had made it Facebook official in August).

Me: (sheepish grin forming) Yeah, about that…

Her: So my question is… Why didn’t you tell me?

Or, better yet, I would mention him in passing and people would say, “Woah, woah! Hold the phone! Your boyfriend?!”

In truth, with my last relationship ending last year and being absolutely devastated by it, I was hesitant to bring this one under the Meals with Morri radar. In my logic, it was kind of like tattooing your sweetheart’s name onto your body, daring the Universe to do its worst. But the more and more we talked and spent time together (he was abroad for the majority of our relationship, teaching in Italy) over the summer, the more confident I felt that this was the person I wanted to be with as my partner. 

Our First Mead.

The ultimate lesson I am getting from this relationship is taking things in stride. Nothing is rushed. For the first time I didn’t feel like I had to be going one million miles a minute, and it was a glorious feeling to sleep in, watch Babylon 5, and make delicious food. 

Gluten Free Chicago-style Pizza

... Or at least delicious messes.

Pumpkin Uh-oh Waffles

That’s the other lesson I learned: cooking is extremely important to me when it comes to love. When he came to visit in December, he taught me to make cheese from scratch. It was the sort of moment, watching us cook together in perfect synchronization in an out-of-body sort way, that I realized I wanted this relationship to work with all my heart. I realized I was in love with him.

Koester Potatoes with fresh dill from my garden

I’ve also come to understand that there is no limitation to how much you love someone. I know this because I find ways to fall in love with him more and more each day. I find that even with hard conversations, I feel better for having them. We work to come up with solutions and not argue about who is right. We turn little things into traditions, like Waffle and Koester potatoes on Saturdays or reading to each other during long drives. We teach each other our passions, such as his love for chemistry, philosophy, and all things geektastic and my love for cooking, health, and conflict resolution.

Finally, besides "Communication! Communication! Communication!", cooking together has become my favorite pastime with him. It’s the thing I hope we never grow out of and continues bringing us together. 

Veggie Sushi with Adzuki Bean Miso and Onion Soup

So the secret is out: I have a partner. One who loves peanut butter as much as I do. One who loves being in the kitchen and wearing silly aprons. One whose family is as supportive of our being together as much as mine. One who showed me the fascinating world of DnD and vegetarian cuisine. One who wants to take me places. One who makes me nourishing food when I'm feeling less than awesome. One who is all for this adventure we call a relationship.

Us.

Now, I'm not sure if I will go full throttle vegetarian at this point, but at the moment my body is enjoying limiting meat from my diet in exchange for eggs, cheese, beans, and high protein gluten free grains. We'll see how it goes. 

One Year Closer

I did it. One year of grad school over, and another to follow. I don’t like to think about it very much, simply because the idea of leaving academia in search of a career scares the heck out of me. School was my only focus for months, and as a result my work at the community center suffered, as did my overall health and social life. I wrote my final papers and proposals in a haze of fatigue and tear-filled vision, my walls finally crashing down and hard. How long have I been like this, you ask. Too long, dear friends. Too long.

The Meals with Morri front page was up on the screen of my laptop on a daily basis yet untouched, a neglected hobby you once couldn’t tear me away from. At one point I had so many recipes and photos it took, I kid you not, weeks to get them all down. It’s been over three weeks, and not one recipe was recorded, with only one meal photographed. I didn't even celebrate my site's second anniversary back in April. Something was seriously wrong. 

Mother's Day Dinner: Grilled scallops & crispy polenta salad

I don’t take the idea of depression well. It’s a phenomenon that happens to other people, whereas all I experience is a funk that won't go away. All the stress and the obligations and the things I simply wasn’t doing were purposefully replaced with over-activity and worrying. I wasn’t eating enough, sleeping enough, or being enough… and people noticed. All I wanted to do was sleep and read, a red flag telling me to slow down if I ever saw one. But I didn’t slow down. I just kept going and going and going.

I know I said I wouldn’t use the “h-word” early on in my writing, but I’m using it now. I hated it. I hated that I couldn’t do it all. I hated that people and activities I loved with every essence of my being were left in the dust while I scrambled to make everything work. The past wouldn’t stay where it was, and the future was a mixture of uncertainty and terror. Never mind the present, I said to myself, because if I work my butt off now I will have everything in place for later. That’s the thing about time, though: it’s always the present.

So with summer school starting next week, I’ve decided to change my focus. I’m not working at camp this year, sadly, but I will have the energy to get through school and also spend these months being with friends and family, starting new hobbies, and going on adventures. 

After all, Life isn’t about how much you do but how much it means to you doing it.

The Magic of Making Food with Others

In the kitchen, it’s a sacred ritual for me to make food happen. For many years I have either made the meals or created the weekly menu for dinner. It became an individual almost meditative practice, feeling the heat from the burners or oven for the main meal, or the cool touch of washed vegetables as they are transformed into a salad. Water is poured and silverware is laid out. Dinner is served.

And I was okay with cooking alone and being in charge of the kitchen, until I realized how wonderful it is to share the process with another person. Since then I have craved cooking and eating with people. It is a way of connecting with others toward the same goal, that is, the making of a delicious meal. You prep the ingredients you are individually using, dancing around each other in the kitchen like it was rehearsed. The aromas of your share entwine with theirs, and when you bring it all together…

You feel so proud of what you put on the plate and feel even more connected with them than before.

I used to be Diva Chef incarnate once upon a time. People would sit on the couch watching me jump from counter to counter, keeping me company and even assisting in cutting up ingredients or stirring (when I'd let them). Perhaps it was a trust thing, more likely a control thing; but when you let the need of control go, you look outside the box to discover how wonderful a dish can be with collaborative effort.

I wholeheartedly and happily blame CK for wanting to cook with people more often. When he and JS came down to visit HL and I, he taught me how to make paneer from scratch, causing me to fall more in love with Indian food and recipes with multiple components in general. He reminded me of how food brings people together and how fun it is to make something with another person. HL is always fermenting something, and in a frilly apron taught me how she makes her sour beets. And then there was Mama Dazz, who helped make this recipe possible.

Whenever we’ve had a long week or Sunday turns out being a particularly lazy “chill out” day, we tend to look to put something on the dinner table that is neither on our typical menu roster (chili, huevos rancheros, baked chicken) nor prepared in the usual way (pressure cooker, on the stovetop, oven-baked). I had in mind to create a barbeque sauce from scratch, and Mama Dazz was craving ribs. Like clockwork she prepped the ribs with spices and placed them in the oven and I focused on the sauce and made the side dishes. When we sat down together for a Hallmark mother-daughter moment, we savored our efforts and bonded over dinner while I took the photos.

Barbeque sauce is hard to find that fits my dietary lifestyle, but is super easy to make from scratch. Perfect on meat and vegetable alike, it will suit any outdoor potluck you plan on going to.

Mesquite Barbeque Sauce

160 g Tomato paste
60 ml Unrefined apple cider vinegar
30 g Honey (or maple syrup for the herbivore crowd)
30 ml Olive oil
90 ml Filtered water
1/2 tsp. Sea salt
1/2 tsp. Mesquite powder
1/2 tsp. Cacao powder (regular cocoa powder is fine)
1/8 tsp. Chipotle powder
1/8 tsp. Spanish style smoked paprika
1/8 tsp. Garlic powder

In a small mixing bowl (able to contain at least 2 cups or 500 ml of liquid), start with the tomato paste and slowly integrate the ingredients one at a time in rapid stirring motions.
When it is thoroughly combined, use it for whatever recipe calling for barbeque sauce or put it in a closed container (preferably a glass jar) in the refrigerator until needed.
Use within 3 – 5 days of making.

Makes roughly 1 1/2 U.S. cups of sauce.

The Aftermath: Coming Together in Support for Sandy

Food brings people together. It is a statement so true that I have written about it over and over and over again. In most cases I say this for idyllic circumstances, where I’m surrounded by people I love, laughing over plates of delicious food, or philosophizing about something or other while sipping cider, tea, or mead. Food is a way of connecting with people as one of our most basic needs are met, physically warmed as it reaches our stomachs and emotionally warmed as we discover how extraordinary life is with those we love.

In the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy, there are those out there still picking up the pieces the storm had left in its wake. While the worst I experienced were flickering lights, empty water jugs artfully flung into the grass from the porch, and a toppled birdbath, my family was still safe and warm from Sandy’s screaming winds. For days some families were without power, or unable to leave their streets because of fallen trees and large debris. Thousands had to be evacuated from their homes, and additional thousands lost them entirely. And unfortunately, we lost a few sentient beings in the storm’s havoc.

Here I was, working on my own life, and as if reawakened I was suddenly aware what was going on around me. There are others out going through the same thing I am, and I no longer feel so alone in my experiences. In times like these people realize that they aren’t alone, that they’re cared about and their lives are meaningful. So whoever you are, wherever you are, whether I know you or not, I wish you well and hope you are safe.

When the lovely Jenn of Jenn Cuisine posted “Food Bloggers Support for Sandy”, I felt that this would be a great opportunity to reconnect with others in the world, creating a virtual buffet of warmth and delight of the senses for a shared cause. This isn’t about gluten-free eating; and to be honest, it really isn’t about Sandy (although it was the event that brought Jenn and Barbara [of Creative Culinary] to create this awareness). It’s about connecting with your neighbors: the ones living next door and the ones in the states Sandy hit the hardest. It’s about remembering that, regardless of political/national/ethnic orientation, we are still people who live, breathe, laugh, cry, suffer, love, and eat.

Perhaps you will donate to the various organizations Jenn listed towards disaster relief. Perhaps you will volunteer your time to providing food and other provisions yourself. Or maybe, just maybe, you will create a dish in the hopes to create awareness and reach out to whichever neighbor happens to need you most.

Regardless, I dedicate this meal to the people who volunteered, rescued, survived, and persevered during Hurricane Sandy.

Roasted Pork Loin and Vegetables

2 lb. Pork Loin
1 lb. Brussels sprouts
3 Sweet potatoes (a little larger than hand-sized), chopped into bite-sized pieces
2 Apples (I used small Fujis), coarsely chopped
4 Garlic cloves, coarsely chopped
1 Red onion, coarsely chopped
70 ml Rendered chicken fat*
120 ml Apple cider
1 tsp. Sea salt
1 tsp. Dried tarragon
1/2 tsp. Mignonette pepper**
1/4 tsp. Powdered rosemary

Preheat the oven to 450°F.
In a x” baking sheet lined with aluminum foil, set the whole pork loin in the center to bake uncovered for 35 minutes.
In a large mixing bowl, fold the remaining ingredients until completely integrated and well mixed.
Remove the pork from the oven, pour the vegetables around the meat, and cover with aluminum foil.
Place the pan back in the oven, reducing the heat to 375° to bake for an additional hour.
Take off the foil and cook for another 30 minutes, or until the center of the meat reaches 177° and the vegetables are soft and have browned slightly.
When done, slice the meat into thick cutlets, and serve each cut with a heaping spoonful of veggies (you could also make a quick gravy with the leftover juices).
Serve warm.

Makes 6 – 8 servings.

*I usually have a jar of the stuff after making my oven-baked chicken. But if you don't happen to have this on hand, you can substitute it with your preferred cooking oil/fat.

**This is Penzeys Spices's version of "coarsely cracked pepper", so whatever cracked peppercorns you have will work beautifully.

New Priorities

As I worked to finish my midterm by the deadline, another week between posts went by. The realization of no longer having a plan still lingers in the back of my mind, but a new realization has taken its place for introspection.

That is, I’m going through the process of deciding what my priorities are. 

Tell me, has your Mara come to Tea lately?

This can be an ever-consuming venture, as I’m the sort of person with a plethora of big dreams, seemingly bigger than my life can permit simultaneously. To an extent, my dreams are too large to manifest themselves at the same time in the here and now, but I still dream and want and need.

The Burt-man, being ever observant in my turbulent changes these last few months, provided me with his Pennsylvanian Dutch wisdom the best he could (Dad figures tend to do that). He told me that life was like a chessboard and I was chess piece on that board. As a singular chess piece, I only have a certain number of options of squares to which I can move to, and each piece on the board plays the game differently. You play the game with the options you have, and work with the strategies to move from square to square to ultimately assist in best playing the current game.

In where I ultimately plan to be, I cannot move through life thinking “if only I had so-and-so’s life” or “why is it easier for so-and-so to do this or be that.” They’re just a different chess piece in a different game.

I bring this up because I still struggle with wanting to do everything and do it right the first time. I want[ed] to be a full-time graduate student with a full-time job of my dreams (with benefits), live on my own, heal whatever is conflicting my body, become amazingly fit as I excel at rock climbing, weight lifting, running, and yoga, blog beautiful posts and recipes five times a week, have an active social life and time for a significant other, learn the cello, sing jazz, travel often, have daily enlightening meditations and philosophical realizations… 

And this all had to happen at the same time in the course of a year or I viewed myself a failure to all Morri-kind.

I still want to do and be all these things, and I am confident that at the right time and place I will. It’s a matter of priorities, of deciding what move on the chessboard you position yourself first.

Not surprisingly, the personal growth my blog has nourished has become a top priority. This isn’t about the site itself, but more what it had manifested: self-awareness, confidence, the evolution of my passions, and a focus of my creativity. And though I have a few of the things I want to do in life underway (part-time graduate school, part-time work, part-time social life, working to become awesomely fit and healing holistically), fueling and nurturing my creative outlet has taken center stage.

For one, that means taking photography seriously and actually understanding why I produce the photos I take, and how to make them more professional looking. It also means taking the recipes to a higher standard.

Here goes everything.

Pumpkin Chai Latte

480 ml Filtered water
2 Chai tea bags (or loose tea equivalent)*
120 g Pumpkin puree
1/4 tsp. Cinnamon
1/4 tsp. Nutmeg, plus a dash as garnish
1/4 tsp. Allspice
1/4 tsp. Coriander
1/2 – 1 tsp. Unrefined apple cider vinegar, optional **
Sweetener, to taste ***
120 ml Almond milk (or whatever “milk” you prefer)

In a medium saucepan, cook the water on high heat until it simmers, and add the tea bags to steep for three to five minutes.
Remove the tea bags and lower the heat to medium-low, and add the remaining ingredients save for the almond milk.
Pour the chai tea into two mugs and set aside.****
In a separate cup, froth the almond milk with an immersion blender, milk frother, or simply put in a lidded jar and shake rigorously.  
Pour the milk on top of the tea and garnish with nutmeg.
Serve hot.

Makes 2 servings.

*I used Trader Joe’s Rooibos Chai Tea
**When I was sick this time last year, the old boyfriend put apple cider vinegar in my rooibos tea and it tasted like a tangy hot apple cider. He had read somewhere that it helped with sore throats and the overall feelings of crumminess.
*** I used honey, about one tablespoon per serving. (I get such a sweet tooth for my tea as it gets colder.) But this can be easily made herbivore using maple syrup, stevia, coconut sugar, date sugar, or left unsweetened.
****The pumpkin puree has a tendency to separate and sink to the bottom. Simply stir until you add the almond milk.

Spiced Pumpkin Cornbread & Salted Raw Pepita Butter

I am one of the many people in the world that looks forward to fall for a number of reasons: the rainstorms that smell like snow; piping hot meals in the forms of porridges, stews, roasted meats and veggies, and cobblers; sipping on hot chocolate, chai tea, and apple cider; leggings, scarves, warm hats and mittens; the leaves changing; and finally, all things pumpkin.

While I have thoroughly enjoyed and embraced other foods synonymous with fall (apples, carrots, and kale in particular), pumpkin is one of those things I literally count down the days until cans of it are displayed on the shelves. I love everything about this winter squash: the flesh, the seeds, the growing, and the artwork. It is so versatile and so easy to incorporate in practically any recipe you can think of. What’s not to like?

Last year, you could say I went a little fanatic with putting pumpkin in everything I ate. And it looks like this year will follow the same route of pumpkin-ness (I mean, you’ve seen my header, right?), with the promise of non-pumpkin fall treats to balance it out.

This week I was hankering for some pumpkin pancakes, and thought of using special arepa flour (also called masa flour on this blog, i.e., corn flour treated with lime) as the base. Well, for those who use this flour regularly, you will know how dry your dough/batter can be, and thus add more liquid to make it manageable. As the result, my first pancake was impossible to flip and broke apart, and my desire for pumpkin corncakes went out the window. So I did what I thought was the most logical thing to do: I baked it in a loaf pan.

Pancakes? Sadly, no. But delicious warm quick bread? Yes, sir!

Spiced Pumpkin Cornbread

240 g Masa flour
360 g Unsweetened almond milk (whatever “milk” you have on hand will work too)  
200 g Pumpkin puree
5 g (1 tsp.) Whey
2 Large eggs
60 g Applesauce
1 tsp. Bourbon vanilla extract
1 tsp. Sea salt
1 tsp. Cinnamon
1 tsp. Ground ginger (freshly grated is okay)
1/2 tsp. Allspice
1/4 tsp. Nutmeg
1 tsp. Baking soda
5 g (1 tsp.) Unrefined apple cider vinegar
60 g Melted butter
120 g Thompson raisins, optional

Combine all of the ingredients as listed (except the baking soda, cider vinegar, butter, and raisins) in a medium-sized bowl and place in the fridge to sit covered over night.
Remove the chilled batter from the fridge and get it to room temperature before adding the remaining ingredients.
Preheat the oven to 350ºF.
In a greased single loaf pan, pour the batter and spread it evenly.
Bake for 1 hour and 15 minutes or longer, depending on the oven.
Remove from the oven and leave it to cool for half an hour before removing the loaf from the pan.
Slice to desired thickness and serve warm.

Makes 4 – 8 servings.

Naturally you need something pumpkin to put onto pumpkin bread, right? I made a batch raw pepita butter (salted) that definitely suited that need.

Salted Raw Pepita Butter

300 g Raw pepitas
1/2 tsp. Sea salt
Spices, optional*

Place the pepitas in the food processor and leave it to pulse for 10 minutes** (scraping the sides as needed).
Once it takes a “loose dough” consistency, add the salt and continue to process for 5 minutes or until liquefied.

Makes 10 servings.

*I added pumpkin-y spices such as cinnamon, nutmeg, and sage, and sweetened it with a little stevia.

**I was pleasantly surprised how easy it was to make raw pumpkin seed butter without additional oils or sweeteners. And really, I don’t think it even took the entire 10-ish minutes to be liquid pumpkin seed goodness.

Hearts and Tarts

  The Queen of Hearts

    She made some tarts,

        All on a summer's day;

    The Knave of Hearts

    He stole those tarts,

        And took them clean away.

    The King of Hearts

    Called for the tarts,

        And beat the knave full sore;

    The Knave of Hearts

    Brought back the tarts,

        And vowed he'd steal no more.

~ Anonymous (1782)

W. W. Denslow (1901)

With the exception of reading this poem in Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, I never considered the gastronomic pleasures of the tart. In some cases, the words “pie” and “tart” overlap and blur: if it is a baked dish consisting of a filling over a pastry with an open top, it can be either without people batting an eyelash.

Ah, the beauty of food terminology.

I’ve made a few pies to share on Meals with Morri, the majority of which could be equally considered a tart; though in my upbringing "pie" is the more common term in the United States. So when the Gluten Free Ratio Rally was challenged to make tarts knaves and kings alike would want with their afternoon tea, I felt it was high time to make the distinction.

 It’s all about the crust, really. Pie crust, at least on MWM, falls in the flaky category, the one Michael Ruhlman wrote about in Ratio and Alton Brown gave awesome tips and tricks in making on Good Eats. There are literally clumps and bumps of fat left whole to create this amazing crunchy yet tender texture that beautifully pairs with the filling it holds. The tart crust, as I have come to understand, is usually a shortcrust pastry, similar in taste and texture to the shortbread cookie (Coincidence? I think not!). The binders (fat and liquid, and sometimes egg) are brought to room temperature, and care is given to make sure each and every flour granule is coated with fat. The result is a light and crumbly crust.

The one I chose to make was the pâte à foncer, a shortcrust pastry that includes egg. I wanted a flat crust that took center stage with a savory filling that was moist but not too wet. What I got was a crust that may have just become my go-to pastry for future tarts and pies. It crumbled, yes, but it didn't fall apart... VICTORY!

The ratio is quite simple (and rounded up): 5 parts flour, 3.75 parts fat, 1 part liquid, 1 egg yoke, and a little sugar (honey, in this instance).

Grain-free Pâte à foncer (ratio from Michel Suas's Advanced Bread and Pastry: A Professional Approach as discovered on The Second Lunch)

195 g Coconut flour
100 g Garbanzo bean flour
100 g Quinoa flour
148 g Salted butter, room temperature
148 g Coconut oil, room temperature
79 g Milk (I used Goat milk), room temperature
1 (16 g) Large egg yoke
6 g Honey

Allow butter, coconut oil, milk, and egg yolks to come up to room temperature. (Butter should be almost mayonnaise consistency.)
Soften the butter and mix with the paddle attachment on the electric mixer's medium-high speed.
Add the honey, yolk, and milk, and then slowly incorporate the flour.
Mix until just incorporated, and refrigerate the dough for 30 minutes to an hour.*

And now... the tart part!

Savory Onion Tart Squares with Pâte à foncer crust

28 g Salted butter
1 Large yellow onion, thinly sliced
3 Garlic cloves, finely chopped
20 ml White wine, adding more as needed
6 g Dried parsley
1 tsp. Dried tarragon
1 tsp. Dried thyme
1/4 tsp. Sea salt
1/4 tsp. Cracked pepper
122 g Pumpkin puree
1 Egg, yoke and white separated
Filtered water, for the egg wash
Prepared Pâte à foncer

Preheat the oven to 350ºF.
In a large cast iron skillet on medium heat, melt the butter and stir in the wine.
When the mixture begins to brown slightly and become aromatic, add in the onion and garlic to cook for 25 – 30 minutes until caramelized (adding more white wine if it starts to stick at the bottom).
Stir in the spices and cook on low heat for another 5 minutes before turning off the heat and setting aside.
In a small bowl, combine the pumpkin puree and egg yoke and set aside.
On a large cookie sheet lined with parchment paper, roll out and flatten the dough into a rectangular shape with a thickness between 1/8 and 1/4 inches (remember: the thicker the crust, the wetter you will want a filling).**
Spread the pumpkin until it is about an inch from the edge of the crust, and then top it with the onion (at this point, if you want to add cheese such as Ricotta, Parmesan, Gruyere, or Swiss, go right ahead).
Combine the egg white and equal parts water for the egg wash and coat the edges using a pastry brush.
Bake for 25 – 30 minutes, or until the crust has browned slightly.
Remove from the oven and let it cool five minutes before cutting into squares.
Serve warm with a sauce accompaniment or as a side to a soup/stew.

Makes 9 – 16 servings.

*I found that chilling the dough over an hour made it difficult to spread out and rather dry. The next time I use this shortcrust recipe (and I will), I'm simply going to go from mixer to pan and see how it fares.
**I also want to use a wetter filling next time (maybe twice as much pumpkin or incorporate ricotta in this particular recipe). I do think this would be delicious with cooked apples with a caramel sauce, though.

Now, I wasn’t the only one who took on the challenge to make a gluten free tart. Charissa of the Zest Bakery was our marvelous host this month. As the name suggests, the Zest Bakery is "a passionate (and zesty!) bakery that strives to provide delicious, gluten-free foods and desserts in the Bay Area. To ensure there are no gluten-containing products present in the bakery or on our equipment, we built our bakery from scratch.”

That is devotion right there, with people who are sincere and passionate about the welfare of others. I now have a delicious reason to visit the Bay Area, if only to be inspired by what they do.

But really, the GFRR always inspires me. See for yourself why…

Charissa | Zest Bakery    Cheddar Apple Tart   
Karen | Cooking Gluten Free!    Plum Tart (dairy and egg free)   
Paula | Gapey's Grub    Sugar Free Pear Tart   
TR | No One Likes Crumbley Cookies    Pumpkin Tart   
Sihi | Wandering Ladle    Banana-Pomogranate in Gluten Free Vegan Chocolate Tart Shells   
Heather | Discovering the Extraordinary    No-Bake Mini Pumpkin Tarts (grain free)   
Pete and Kelli | No Gluten, No Problem    Spiced Cider-Poached Cinnamon Apple Tart   
Jonathan | The Canary Files    Vegan Cardamom Cashew Cream & Fig Tartlettes   
Mary Fran | FrannyCakes    Savory Sweet Potato tart  
Caneel | Mama Me Gluten Free    Pecan Tollhouse Tarts   
Morri (me!) | Meals with Morri    Savory Onion Tart Squares with Pâte à foncer crust (grain free) 
Jean Layton | Gluten Free Doctor    Nectarine Rose Tart (dairy-free crust)     

Claire Berman | This Gluten-Free Life    Fresh Summer Sweet Tomato Tart  

Playing with Paleo: A Delicious Birthday Experiment

The autumn storms have rolled in and brought with them that crisp air I love so much. Pumpkin and apples are in ample supply, and baking is becoming a coming occurrence in my household. With my Masters application officially submitted, I’ve exhaled this breath I had apparently been holding. Along with other hard lessons digesting from September, October is looking to be one creative and relaxed sort of month (save for midterms, of course).

The best part of fall is the flavor selection. We have foods that warm and fill us, sweet and savory ingredients that come together in a symphony of delights, and the oven always seems to be preheated and ready to go. To add to that, fall is the season I become very adventurous in my recipes.
 

Over the weekend I celebrated my two best friends’ birthdays. J and TJ, a ridiculously adorable couple, have been so supportive and loving as I pieced together what had been causing my recent stress, and visiting them (individually and together) always lightens my heart and brightens my day.

What was left of the piñata...

So when I was approached with the challenge to make a Paleo dessert for TJ, a lover of pumpkin and cheesecake, my Creative Mind’s gears starting turning.

In place of cream cheese and butter, because TJ is lactose intolerant, I looked for ways to make turn raw, dehydrated coconut flakes into “cheese” with a creamy nut butter consistency. (How did I do it? Read on for the link in the directions.) For the crust, almond meal and coconut oil was used to make it grain-free and dairy-free, and it had a marvelous crushed graham cracker taste and consistency.

 It was a delicious experiment, and one that will only get better over time. As for TJ and J?

They loved it.

Paleo Pumpkin Birthday "Cheese"cake

For the crust:
240 g Almond meal
64 g Honey
1/2 tsp. Cinnamon
120 g Coconut oil, melted

For the filling:
500 g Homemade coconut “butter”
425 g Pumpkin puree
3 Large eggs
400 g Honey
Juice of 1 Lemon
1 tsp. Bourbon vanilla extract
1/2 tsp. Cinnamon
1/4 tsp. Nutmeg
1/4 tsp. Ginger
Sea salt, to taste (optional)

Preheat the oven to 350ºF.
In a medium bowl, combine the almond meal, honey, cinnamon, and melted coconut oil. (If a little wet, add a little more almond meal until it is soft but stable to the touch.)
Press the mixture throughout a greased 9-inch pie pan until evenly covered, and then set aside.
If you do not have homemade coconut butter on hand, proceed to Chocolate Covered Katie’s blog to learn how to make your own, and then add it to the remaining ingredients for the filling in another medium bowl to mix.
Pour the filling in the center of the pie pan and spread it evenly.
Cover the crust with aluminum foil to prevent burning and bake at the center of the oven for one hour.
Remove from the oven and let it sit for 2 – 4 hours until room temperature and then let chill in the fridge for an additional 2 – 4 hours or overnight before serving.
Serve cold.

Makes 8 – 16 servings.