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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He gave me the head.

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

(source)

Yup... definitely ears.

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

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

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

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

Later, after much reflection:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stuffat Tal-Fenek (adapted from this recipe) 

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

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

Makes 6 - 8 Servings.

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

Self-Evolution with Primal Eating

In the two weeks I’ve experimented with Primal eating, my body shifted. It was a slow shift, mind you, but a shift it was. And with two more weeks to go, I wanted to share my experience.

It’s not as difficult as you think it is. The people who know of my eating habits (gluten, soy, and cane sugar free) were concerned with the additional “restrictions” I was putting upon my diet, particularly with my past disordered eating in the forms of orthorexia and anorexia.

“But you need legumes, Morri!” one lamented.

“What can you eat then?” asked many in exasperation.

 “A lot more than you think I can,” I replied.

For one thing, there is a difference between “Paleo” and “Primal” eating, though both lifestyles stem on similar evolutionary science. Mainly the difference lies with saturated fats, and how primal eating is all about enjoying grass-fed humanely raised meats and products (butter, eggs, full-fat milk and yogurt). Grains and sugars are limited (if not removed completely) as the consumption of vegetables and protein increases. Fruit is eaten in moderation, and dairy is promoted by some while discouraged by others. There’s also a fundamental difference in the two dietary lifestyles with the role of diet sodas and artificial sweeteners. But I agree with Mark (from Mark’s Daily Apple) when he says: “If you aren’t getting anything positive from the meal or drink, you shouldn’t be taking the risk of the artificial sweetener.” Finally, what drew me to going Primal instead of Paleo was treating it “as a broad, holistic approach to living and not simply a list for eating.” 

The list for eating is quite delicious, however... 

There will be some among both the Primal and Paleo community that do not eat what I eat and vice versa. For instance, I loved the food list on Mark’s site as well as the following food pyramid and decided to create a hybrid. I do use honey on occasion, and I eat quinoa, wild rice, and tuber vegetables throughout the week. I’m fairly successful at eating protein and vegetables at every meal, though I have noticed cravings for more servings of fruit. I don’t miss rice, nor any other gluten free grain. For the most part I’ve been dairy free also with the exception of some cheese or kefir, but after receiving raw milk (among other dairy delights), my body was so happy to have the nutrition.

(source)

Being Primal also means a different food/fitness culture for everyone. As my ancestry is almost exclusively from the British Isles, my body will respond better or worse to certain foods and exercise regimens than someone from the Amazon or Pakistan. Perhaps someone from China can eat more grains with some protein and vegetables and excels at martial arts while I can eat more protein and vegetables with some grains and excel at leg-oriented sports or climbing. Maybe fish calls to you over chicken, or fermented vegetables over stewed or roasted. Maybe you can eat fruit at every meal or none at all to feel your best. Maybe nuts and non-animal derived fats/oils keep hunger at bay when it makes someone else famished thirty minutes later. It’s all about what works for you, experimenting by adding and/or diminishing foods as you go. 

In the first week of going Primal, I was literally hungry all the time. As I, like many, used fiber in the sense to be *ahem* regular, there were days it felt like my IBS had reared its not too pretty head in the form of constipation, lethargy, tenderness, and irritability. By the second week, the hunger subsided and the symptoms lessoned. And now, entering to week three, regularity is still to be desired and I’m practically never hungry. I’m tired all morning, but I think that’s something else entirely.

Primal eating and food substitutions aren’t as daunting as I thought they’d be. Instead of spaghetti with meat sauce, try cooked spaghetti squash or sautéed julienned zucchini and carrots with meat sauce. Instead of fajitas, try making fajita bowls with your favorite meat and vegetable combinations. Substitute rice for quinoa or wild rice, or white potato for sweet potato or a winter squash. Eat humongous salads with whatever Primal foods you happen to have on hand in your pantry or fridge. If you are hankering for bread or something of that nature, there’s plenty of almond/coconut pancake, quick bread, dessert recipes out there for you to try. It’s all about substitutions, people, and you’ll feel like Primal gods once you get the hang of it.

We all know how much I love chili, right? There’s something about that delicious, meaty stewp (I still don’t know if chili is a soup, a stew, or a combination of the two) that I can’t get enough of. Highly adaptable with the potential of never being made the same twice, I wondered what happened if I went the Texan way. You know, without beans. Legumes are a no-no on the Primal eating list, so I thought of possible substitutions for it that would make sense. Potatoes? Nah. More meat? Nah. Vegetables? Sure, but which one?

The beauty of going Primal in November was the inspiration to use winter squash with my turkey chili. And let’s just say, it’s now a dinner table favorite.

Autumn Pumpkin Turkey Chili

1.25 lb Ground Turkey
560 g Butternut squash, cubed
410 g Diced tomatoes (from 1 can, or by hand)
425 g (1 can) Pumpkin puree
1 Red onion, coarsely chopped
1 Green bell pepper, coarsely chopped
200 g Kale, finely chopped (fresh or frozen)
3 Garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 tbsp. Chili powder
1 tsp. Sea salt
1 tsp. Ground ginger
1/4 tsp. Powdered sage
1/4 tsp. Cinnamon
1/8 tsp. Paprika (Spanish smoked)
1/8 tsp. Chipotle

Place a large pot or pressure cooker on medium to medium-high heat, grease the bottom with your preferred cooking oil (coconut oil or ghee is mine).
Once it has reached its smoking point, drop in the ground meat and, with a wooden spoon, stir and break apart the meat until completely cooked and separated.
Add the spices to the meat until thoroughly mixed, and then add the remaining ingredients.
Cover the pot and let sit over medium heat for at least an hour.*
Garnish each bowl with your choice of sour cream, cheese, diced onion, avocado, or all of the above.

Makes 6 – 8 servings.

*I like using the pressure cooker, as it cuts the time for chili in half. If you are cooking with a regular pot (or even a slow cooker), it will take longer for the smoky flavor to sink it. It will be good regardless.

God Jul & the Solstice Julbord

God Jul, my merry readers! I felt that this Swedish saying was rather appropriate for this post, because Sweden has truly inspired my household this holiday season. On the twenty-first, family and friends sat around the dining room table for a three-course feast similar to the one I had last year with Sofia’s family. It was my first Christmas away from home, though her family kept homesickness at bay. We played games and sang songs in between bites. We walked on the frozen lake and watched Donald Duck in various cartoons. The boyfriend and I were given presents of tomte sculptures and Swedish Jul music. 

This family showed us the true Swedish Christmas spirit, and I was determined to do the same in the United States.

After our Ikea outing a few weeks back, Mama Dazz and I came home with edible goodies, including pickled herring, fish paste, seaweed “caviar”, non-alcoholic glögg, cookies, and lingonberry nectar. From there we came up with a menu for our very own Julbord.

Now, for those who do not know about Scandinavian culture, the Julbord is a buffet-style meal with various courses served at the table. The Julbord is a form of the Smörgåsbord, Swedish for open-faced sandwich (smörgås) and table (bord). There are hot and cold dishes, and the meal usually starts with bread, butter, cheese (and lots of it), and pickled seafood. The second course is then served, with deli meats, cold veggies, and crisp breads with more cheese. The third course would be the warm dishes, with meatballs, sausages, carbohydrate-laden casseroles and cooked veggies. Depending on the family, there may or may not be dessert, but an after dinner fika is expected.

We had an amazing menu, and the people around the table were stuffed to the gills. So what did we have, you may ask? Well, I’ll tell you.

Drinks
Spiced wine*
Moscow Mule* (a mixed drink made with potato vodka, ginger beer, and lime)
Water
Hot tea
Coffee

First course
Pumpernickel bread
Cracker assortment
Cheese: Havarti with Dill, Holland sharp cheddar
Garlic-stuffed Olives
Pickles
Deli meat: Sliced pancetta, capiola
Pickled herring
Applegate beef hotdogs with Dijon mustard
Deviled eggs with real caviar
Yuletide sugarplums

 

Second course
Dairy free creamed spinach
Marinated ruby red salad
Sautéed Brussel sprout mash
Jansson’s temptation (eller Janssons frestelse), without the bread on top
Swedish meatballs (recipe in post)

Third Course
Coffee
Tea
Fresh berries, biscotti, and whipped cream

It was an amazing meal, with amazing people to share it with. I hope I did you proud, Sweden.

God Jul to all, and have a safe holiday (whichever one(s) you may celebrate).

Swedish Meatballs (adapted from The Joy of Cooking cookbook)

64 g (> 2.25 oz.) CGF rolled oats
100 g Whole milk
12 oz. (340 g) Ground beef
12 oz. (340 g) Ground pork
2 Eggs, beaten
1 tbsp. (14 g) Butter, melted
1/4 c. (30 g) Minced dried onion
3 tbsp. Dried parsley
1 scant tsp. Sea salt
1/4 tsp. Paprika, Spanish smoked
1/2 tsp. Grated lemon rind
1 tsp. Lemon juice
1/4 tsp. Nutmeg
1/8 tsp. Allspice
2 c. (16 oz./ 454 g) Chicken stock, for pan gravy

Coarsely grind the rolled oats through the food processor, and in a small mixing bowl, soak in the milk throughout the other prep processes on the counter, about thirty to fort-five minutes.
In a larger mixing bowl, mix together the ground meats with the eggs.
While both bowls are setting, sauté the minced onions in the olive oil until golden and allow cooling.
Add the onion in with the meat, as well as the remaining spices and the rolled oats, and mix (either by hand or a wooden spoon) until the ingredients are fully integrated.
In a large pot, put the chicken stock on medium heat.
Shape into balls (I was rather anal about this: the mixture equals 992 g, so to make 18 I measured each to be around 55 g), about 2 inches.
Drop into the bowling stock and cook until done, about fifteen minutes, and then proceed to make pan gravy.

Makes 18 meatballs. Serves 6 – 9 people.

Pan Gravy

2 c. (16 oz/ 454 g) boiling cooking liquid (in this case, the chicken stock)
2 tbsp. (20 g) Garbanzo bean flour
1/2 c. (90 g) Heavy whipping cream
1/4 tsp. Grated lemon rind
1/4 tsp. Dill

In a small bowl, mix the garbanzo bean flour in with a ladle of the hot liquid and stir until a thick slurry is formed.
Pour the slurry into the cooking liquid (with the meatballs still in the pot), and lower the heat to a steady simmer for five minutes.
Add in the lemon rind and nutmeg.
Turn the heat to the lowest setting, and slowly add the cream to cook for another minute or so.
Serve immediately.

*Alcoholic drinks: I want to remind my readers to please please please drink responsibly. Everyone at the Julbord was over the age of 21 (the legal drinking age of the United States), and waited a good number of hours before driving. I encourage the use of designated drivers, staying hydrated with water, and eating a ton of food when alcohol is present. I want you to have fun, and I want you to be safe.

Turkey Day Round-Up

Thanksgiving. A holiday focused on food, family, food, getting together, food, telling stories, food, and more food. I mentioned the food, right? 

My Leftovers Day Plate

Good.

I only had class on Monday this week, so much of my time was spent cleaning, cooking, and nervously awaiting the arrival of our other guests. We were eight around the table: Mama Dazz, the Burt-man, Grandpa B, Grandma D, Uncle Rich, myself, and the boyfriend’s father and brother. He came later in the evening, back from his five-day excursion in Mexico.  The energy at the table was enormous, and food was plentiful and beyond delicious. It wasn’t completely Morri friendly, and being grain-free and sweetener free made it slightly more difficult (I indulged with a sliver of pie), but the food that I could and did eat did not leave me wanting. Plus, it was my first Thanksgiving back from Sweden, so I was just tickled pink to be there.

First and foremost, the Turkey, a bird named after the country the English believed it originated (The Turks called it the Hindu, I think, though the bird comes from Northern America). We typically buy the all-natural Trader Joe’s turkey each year, which came with its own brine. Only, upon further inspection, I realized that the brine wasn’t Morri friendly because of the sugar, so we ended up getting the smaller and yes, more expensive Kosher bird. 

Regardless, it was totally worth the extra few bucks, because not only did it taste amazing but it occurred to us that maybe the bird was raised and fed differently due to its, uh, Kosher-ness. It wasn’t some hulking, too-big-for-its-own-legs, obese thing. It was smaller, with some of the feathers in the skin, and juicier than I remember turkey ever being. Next year, I’m going to look in buying a Morri friendly bird online and see where that goes.

As I was going grain-free, I decided not to make a gluten free stuffing which, until I got sick earlier this month, I was making it with a spoon bread base. Instead of putting it in the bird it was baked like a huge bread pudding and a whole onion was put in its place. The onion was my “stuffing”.

There were two kinds of greens, my Uncle Rich’s infamous collard greens, cooked with salted fatback, water, pepper flakes, and salt and pepper, and I made green beans with a delish twist, and whose recipe will be posted shortly.

Like many Thanksgiving dinners around the United States, our menu was rather heavy on the carbohydrates, but I think we did rather well in bringing color and balance to the table. Instead of mashed potatoes, we went with “small” sweet potatoes, baked at 400 ºF for 1.5 to 2 hours. The result is a caramelized and sticky exterior with a gooey middle that melts in your mouth. 

We had two sauces, turkey gravy and cranberry sauce, both homemade, grain-free, and definitely not out of a can. I'm doing my best not to brag too inanely, but our cranberry sauce was beyond amazing, and I wish I had written down the recipe (we used this one for inspiration). Mama Dazz started off with two bags of fresh cranberries, used two cups of orange juice instead of water to cook them, and finished it off with fresh orange pieces and walnuts. Before adding sugar to the whole thing she poured a bit into two ramekins, one for me and one for Grandma D, who has diabetes. I personally liked it unsweetened, but she used a sweetener for hers.

Except for the turkey and Uncle Rich’s collards, I was surprised that most of the things I put on my plate (and made) were vegan. Then again, since everything was mixed into a tasty jamboree of flavors, I guess it wasn’t so vegan after all. Oh well…

As for drinks, I made two kinds of ice tea, Irish Breakfast (caffeinated) and Green Rooibos (non-caffeinated), and poured them into wine bottles for a change of pace. We also had chilled white wines, a 2010 Da Vinci Chianti Big Sergey brought (along with pink roses), and sparkling apple cider. 

Mama Dazz's Apple-Quince Pie (Not GF)

Mama Dazz's Sorghum Pecan Pie (Not GF)

Dessert was a Thanksgiving feast in its own right, with four (count 'em, four) different pies, vanilla ice cream, homemade unsweetened whipped cream, and lots of coffee. Mama Dazz made Grandma D her own special single-serving berry pie as one, but she also made pecan pie and an apple-quince pie for the gluten eating crowd. I made a gluten-free pumpkin pie with a dairy free filling, using the second half of the pie crust recipe I made for last month’s Gluten Free Ratio Rally.

Grandma D's Three Berry Pie

My GF Pumpkin Pie!

It was weird having pie, with its not-so-much grain-free crust and honey sweetened filling, not to mention eating more than one fruit serving a day (the cranberry sauce was my second serving). After we picked him up from the airport, I ate a tiny sliver of my pie while he ate a reheated plate of amazing deliciousness. I felt loopy and slightly intoxicated after that, and my stomach didn’t know what to make of it. It wasn’t a bad feeling, though I did feel off. I think having a grain-free/sweetener free/limited fruit servings diet for a while may help, but it may end up becoming a long-term thing. FiveLac has been helpful; I just don’t want to take 3 – 6 packets every day for the rest of my life. And as long as I have garbanzo bean flour, I'm golden.

All in all, this Thanksgiving gave me a lot to be thankful for; you know, besides being thankful for the family I have. For my birthday I have this idea that, for every year after my birthday that’s the number of hours I give to doing community service (i.e., I’m twenty-two, so this year I do at minimum twenty-two hours). I am thankful that my lifestyle enables me to do that. I am thankful for the world I live in, for the people in it, and for the life I lead. I am thankful for every experience, every lesson, every mistake, and every success. I am thankful for my education, for my job, and for my bright today and the tomorrows that follow.

I am thankful for this year’s harvest, whatever that may be.

I end this post with a Happy Day After Thanksgiving to you all. May you have food in your cupboards and pantries all year long, a roof over your heads and a fireplace to keep you warm and dry, and finally, an open heart that grows with each passing day.

Dijon Green Beans with Almonds and Mushrooms (adapted from this recipe)

1 lb 8 oz French-cut green beans, preferably frozen
10 oz Baby Bella mushrooms, thinly sliced
1 oz Almond slivers
1 oz Coconut oil
5 Garlic cloves, left whole
1/2 tsp. Sea salt
1/2 tsp. Cracked pepper
Dash nutmeg
2 oz Dijon mustard

Put a large pot over medium heat and add the coconut oil.
Sautee the mushrooms, almond slivers, and the garlic cloves until thoroughly cooked and browned (careful, though, the almonds can burn if you are not watching).
Add in the green beans and stir until the ingredients are completely integrated.
Cover the pan with a lid and lower the heat to medium or medium-low for up to three minutes.
Pour in the spices and Dijon mustard in the final minutes of cooking (i.e. the green beans are still a vibrant green and lukewarm).
After it has cooked, let it sit for five minutes before serving.

Serves 8 – 10 people as a side dish, with a very likely chance of leftovers.

Celebrating Summer with Good Intentions Chili

I’ve been wanting to blog since Wednesday, when it was my first official day of summer. It seemed, however, the Universe had other plans. I spent Wednesday moving out of campus housing (which I thought I had until Thursday, but then the RAs came and said I was to have moved out four hours ago), thanks to a friend who’s working for the Burt-man, driving one of the company’s delivery vans. By Thursday, I had made a great meal, but was too tired to do anything but take a photo or two. On Friday, we were expecting a great family friend to stay with us for the weekend, so I had to haul all of my unpacked college life into my bedroom and clean as thoroughly as eight hours would allow.

Naturally, I had to cook something fantastic simultaneously, but the consequence of crashing was not how I envisioned my first days back home would be like.

For the majority of the past few days, I’ve been in the reality between the waking and dreaming worlds. My head ached, my stomach and digestive system were topsy-turvy and tender, and I found myself lying on my stomach just so I could sleep through the discomfort. I was sneezing, lethargic, and all I wanted to do was curl up with the cats and read a Neil Gaiman classic or cook. When I cook, I feel more than useful; I feel needed, a respected member of the household, contributing to those who come under our roof in search of comfort and love.

Cooking, as I’ve discussed, is more than science, but a combination of magic and art and time that can have a repeated outcome if done properly. Cooking is just as therapeutic to the one in the kitchen as it is to those eating the meal. The emotions and mindset you have while preparing a meal is just as important as the individual ingredients going into it. A meal made with good intentions, with love and happy thoughts, tastes significantly better than a meal made with someone who puts their bad day into their food.

Trust me, you can taste the difference.

The reason why I love soups and stews, specifically the chili I’ve known since I was a toddler, is because you can turn it into a meal filled with so much love that whomever eats it will feel a sense of belonging and ease. For each bay leaf or garlic clove or individual spices I use, I like to think of something that I feel the household wants and needs. As I drop ingredients into the pot, depending on the day I imagine with all my being whatever comes to mind: prosperity, a happy home, inspiration, and countless others. By the end of it, not only will the meal taste amazing, but also I feel so much better than I had when I started. 

Good Intentions Chili

16 oz Ground turkey (or whatever ground meat you have on hand around that weight)
1 tbsp. Olive oil
1 Red onion, coarsely chopped
15 oz (1 can) Black beans, drained
15 oz (1 can) Pinto beans, drained
28 oz (1 large can or two regular cans) Diced tomatoes
8 oz Filtered water
2 oz Cabernet Sauvignon (or any other dry red wine)
1 Red bell pepper, finely diced
1 Green bell pepper, finely diced
2 Medium carrots, peeled and sliced into small pieces

For the Spice combination:
1 tsp. Chipotle powder
1 tsp. Cumin powder
1 tsp. Paprika
A pinch of Saffron
1/4 tsp. Pepper
1/2 tsp. Sea salt
1/4 tsp. Sweet basil

Pour the olive oil (or whichever oil you prefer) into a large pot over medium-high heat.
Place in the ground meat and, with a wooden spoon, stir and break apart the meat until completely cooked and separated.
Add the spices to the meat until thoroughly mixed, and then add the remaining ingredients.
Cover the pot and let sit over medium heat for at least an hour (I like the smokiness of cooking it for a period of 3 – 5 hours).
Garnish each bowl with your choice of sour cream, cheese, diced onion, avocado, or all of the above.

Serves 4 – 6 people.

"Love Incarnate" White Bean and Kielbasa Stew

To celebrate the one-month anniversary of this blog, I want to take a moment, step back, and really reflect what Meals with Morri has done for me. As Finals (with a capital “F”) are mere days away, other stresses have come at me in waves to the point that I’m questioning my place in this beautiful world of ours. For one brief moment I wondered if this blog was worth it, and the calorie counting and poor body image reared their obnoxious heads. I know people visit this site, and for that I am honored, but it suddenly occurred to me why I was doing this.

I’m not posting recipes and taking pictures of food for recognition or popularity. I’m not competing with other bloggers to see how many times my blog is visited for the rush of being heard. I have no ulterior motive other than sharing my experiences, insights, and recipes with the rest of the world.

This blog has been in the making for a little over a year. I would have started posting sooner, only I had been in Sweden and simply surviving abroad took up plenty of my time. Then, I dropped my point-and-shoot digital camera, so I waited until I had enough money to buy a digital SLR camera. In the meantime, I adjusted to life back at Mason, purchased a Bento box and food scale. I met up with old friends, making new ones along the way. And after my beautiful camera finally came… well, the rest is history.

On Thursday I witnessed something that upset me greatly. As I was walking to class there was a ring of students around an individual, laughing and calling out things I couldn't hear. The individual was a man who he and others like him go to colleges around the country to “Preach the Good Word”, essentially harassing the students with verbal abuse until one cracks and takes a swing. I kid you not, people use a good idea to sue universities.

It wasn’t the response from the students that angered me, but the fact they gave him the attention he wanted. This man was shouting out words of intolerance, so filled with the h-word and not at all what that philosophy was originally about. When the three-hour class let out for break, he was still there, shouting at the top of his lungs. The students laughed, and I was near tears.

Part of me wanted to buy the man some water (because all that screaming must be hard on the vocal cords). That same part of me wanted to get in the middle of the circle with the man, and do what he was not. I wanted to spread love and shout it to the heavens, to tell every single person (even the h-word driven man) that they are loved and cherished. Images of me spreading compassion and acceptance with encouraging messages tied to flowers came to mind.

I just may do that.

Please don’t misunderstand me, however; a “Good Word” of any idea, religion, or discipline that preaches togetherness and love for the world is wonderful. And I have no problem with people doing that on campus, be they Christian, Agnostic, Muslim, Buddhist, Jewish, Hindu, Pagan, etc. But this man was doing no such thing. He was preaching his agenda where the love should’ve been. What I saw was h-word in action.

You may have noticed that I am using "h-word" instead of spelling out the word that rhymes with plate. This unwelcoming and counterproductive word has no place on this blog (except for here, and it was to quote Charles M. Schultz). This blog is about what happens in my life revolving around health, food, fitness, and healing. That is why I don’t use bad language or discuss politics or religion in detail. Yes, I’m a spiritual person. Yes, I have personal opinions regarding my existence and the world around me. But my answer to that is: “Hey, who doesn’t?”

I want people from all over the world to visit this blog, regardless of age, ethnicity, religion, and political views, for the recipes and a brief moment or two knowing what it is like to be me. Nothing more, wonderful readers, and nothing less. Should I stray away from this promise, if I use the blasted h-word (other than to quote someone), send me an email and I will correct it.

After Thursday’s class let out, you can bet your bottom dollar I was bummed. It was dinner with the folks for the week, and the boyfriend was due to come by. I wanted to make something that was comforting and filling the void where the man’s words had dug into my being. There was so much change happening in my life, and I wanted the open arms only loved ones can give.

I wanted the warmth of a kitchen, and this recipe was exactly what a Down-in-the-dumps Morri needed.

Above all else, lovely readers, thank you for making this month such an enlightening experience, with plenty more months to come.

"Love Incarnate" White Bean and Kielbasa Stew

32 oz Veggie stock
8 oz Dry white wine (I used Pinot Grigio)
1 tbsp. Olive oil
30 oz (2 cans) White kidney beans
16 oz (1 bag) Frozen petite peas
14.5 oz (1 can) Roasted tomatoes with green chiles
3 Garlic cloves, coarsely chopped
1 – 2 oz Frozen chopped spinach
1 Medium white onion, diced
8 Frozen colossal wild shrimp, raw
12 oz Kielbasa, chopped into bite sized pieces
1/2 tsp. Sea salt
1/4 tsp. Pepper 
3 Bay leaves   
1/4 tsp. Sage
1/2 tsp. Italian seasoning
Pinch of Tarragon

Place the ingredients (excluding the shrimp and kielbasa) in a large cooking pot or pressure cooker on medium heat.
When the liquid comes to a boil, add in the shrimp.
Once the shrimp are fully cooked, take them out and set aside.
Place the kielbasa in with the rest of the ingredients and let the stew cook up to an hour.
After an hour (more or less), the beans will have thickened the broth, and will be ready to eat.
Serve with the shrimp and a dollop of sour cream on top (I heartily recommend eating it with gluten-free rice Pad Thai noodles, but it is delicious without).

Serves 4 with a definite chance of leftovers.