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. 

All Work and No Play

The Burt-man recently asked me if I have enough fun. It’s the sort of question that hits you in the face like cold water in the mornings. It wakes you up. It makes you think.

I go to school full time. In grad school terms, that’s nine credits or higher. That’s nine hours in the classroom, six of them being in the late evening. I then devote three days to studying, one for each class, and studying (as well as paper writing and presentation making) can take up to fifteen hours in total. I also work part-time; nothing fancy, just twelve hours three days a week. It takes my mind off school and it’s one of the best jobs I’ve ever had, but it’s still a job. It still takes a lot of energy to be present for the kids as well as my co-workers.

If we add it all together, plus the time it takes to commute, school and work equal to a full-time job. (Mad respect for grad school students who are parents and/or with full-time careers. You guys are the kings and queens of time management.)

Due to the change in my schedule this semester, this meant I had to stop rock climbing for a while. (I just about cried when I told SportRock I needed to freeze my account.) I couldn’t make the time to go in the evenings, because by that point I was exhausted and all I wanted to do was read another novel from Terry Pratchett’s Discworld series. My mornings have been devoted to sleeping eight hours, and simply just chilling out or working on projects. I barely had the energy to do Insanity, let alone to go out and see people and go on adventures. I’ve never been so appreciative of my bed before this semester, or sleeping in general.

I'm so jealous that my cats can literally sleep whenever they want.

It’s the final stretch towards obtaining my Masters Degree, and it has me hyperfocusing so narrowly that I literally have to schedule fun and force myself out the door to have it. Don’t get me wrong; I love my classes and my job. I enjoy the readings, the discussions, and being in the classroom. I cherish the time I have with the kids and my friends at work. But the Burt-man’s question irked me, because it’s true. I’ve forgotten how to have spontaneous fun without the fear of procrastination and motivation looming over my head.

Fun became an expense. I couldn't afford it anymore.

I also have been preparing for my internship in 2014. Yes, I got an internship. In Malta. For a year. I have never been so excited and so terrified for anything before. I will be leaving in early December to settle into this new chapter of my life. So along with the typical week I mentioned, I also have a year of being abroad to consider: what to pack, what paperwork is needed, where I’ll be living, how I will need to budget, etc. I considered doing distance-learning classes along with the internship and my school’s requirements for internship credit in the spring, but decided against it. Why? Because I’m going to be in Malta, that’s why! Because my internship is a forty-hour workweek, and because I want to do my best and still have fun while I’m there.

So with papers and projects coming up (or in one class’s case, a midterm due tomorrow), I am getting myself in the writing groove by writing this post and talking about emotional health.  Guys, everyone needs fun for themselves, even when your schoolwork and your job are things you look forward to every day. You need time (or a day) to yourself to do things for you. That’s why I’m getting myself out of this motivation rut and will set aside time to myself every day to make fun and be creative. If you focus on all the things that have to get done, nothing ever will. Recipes won't happen. Grades will start slipping. Depression and illness will settle in. Work will seem like a chore. 

So I'm having fun this fall. I'm making time and I'm making meals again.

Autumn is my favorite season. I love the crisp in the air, the color changing in the leaves, and the seasonal crops on the shelves and in the farmers markets. Virginia is bursting with apples, squash, and dark leafy greens, and I wanted to honor that with a dish. It’s a casserole that will keep you warm on those rainy days and chilly evenings. I call it the Three Sisters Casserole because it has corn, squash, and legumes in it, but you can most certainly taste the autumn in every bite.

Three Sisters Casserole

Pumpkin Cornbread batter*
227 g Cooked black beans
1 Medium Zucchini, thinly sliced
200 g Kale, coarsely chopped
3 (240 g) Chicken Thighs, cooked and coarsely chopped**
1 Yellow onion, halved and cut into thin crescents
3 Garlic cloves, coarsely chopped
1/2 tsp. Sea salt
Dash of Sage
50 g Parmesan cheese

Preheat the oven to 425°F.
In a medium sized bowl, combined the dry ingredients and then the wet ingredients of the pumpkin cornbread batter and set aside.
In a large pot (or stainless steel wok) on medium heat, pour a tablespoon of your cooking oil of choice.
Upon smoking temperature, sauté the onion, garlic, zucchini, and kale and cook until soft.
Add the beans and chicken and continue cooking on medium-low heat for five minutes and add the sea salt and the sage.
Turn off the heat and sprinkle the Parmesan cheese on top.
Pour the batter over top and bake for 25 – 30 minutes, or until the crust is golden brown and it is cooked all the way through.

Serves 4 – 6.

*Pumpkin Cornbread
90 g Sorghum flour
1 tsp. Baking soda
1 tsp. Unrefined Apple Cider Vinegar
21 g Honey
3/4 tsp. Sea salt
150 g Masa flour
2 Large eggs
15 g Ghee (or melted butter)
250 ml Whole Milk
250 ml Water
200 g Pumpkin puree

Prepare as you would your typical cornbread recipe, which can be found here.

**Vegetarian, you say? No problem! Simply replace the chicken with another 240 g of cooked beans. You can also substitute it with mushrooms, butternut squash, more cheese, or additional veggies.

Growing a Green Thumb

If there is one thing I’ve learned this year that has forever changed my outlook of things, it is this: Green Thumbs are planted.

Up until Meals with Morri transformed my perception of health and food, I never really sought to answer the question, “Where does our food come from?” We go to the supermarkets and farmers markets, many of us not realizing the time and effort it takes for such things to get onto our plates. Sure, perhaps I had this inkling when I visited Hollin Farms and saw the pumpkins on the vines and the various root vegetables in the ground. But there was this disconnect of understanding the concept of gardening for me, believing farmers (both in the rural and urban sense) and people who could grow herbs on their porch to have this niche I just didn’t inherit. Most of my caring for flora had turned dry and brown and… well, dead. So at an early age, I thought I was a serial killer for all of green-kind.

That changed in college. I kept a couple of plants sporadically throughout my undergraduate studies, mostly the seasonal potted plants from Trader Joe’s. I was able to keep a clover plant alivelonger than I had expected, and it then transitioned to a series of succulents, a spider plant, and then a lavender plant. Except for the clover plant, the first of my Green Thumb experiments, the rest are alive and well based on this crucial secret: the amount of sun, water, and soil type a happy plant makes.

 The year 2012 was a crucial point in my Green Thumb Development. Although I was adamant about having a garden, I didn’t feel confident enough to try; instead, I began reading all I could about the where’s, how’s, why’s, and when’s of food production and gardening. “Sustainable development” was the term I fell in love with and desire to understand all I could to combine certain aspects of food and the conflict resolution discipline. I studied urban farming, vertical gardening, the controversy of GMO politics, food security, hunger, and the “local movement”.

By 2013, Grad School was in full swing and Meals with Morri was put on the back burner in the worst way. For someone to go at it full-time, sacrifices are made on how many hours you work, how often you see friends and family, when you can travel and for how long, and downtime. (And blogging? Forgetaboutit.) I was an emotional wreck during the spring semester, and I was so burnt out by the summer that I didn’t have the energy to do anything. Frustration and anger simmered beneath the surface, with the feeling of hopelessness and total lack of control constantly looking me in the mirror. I began doubting everything, especially my ability and readiness for what awaits me after graduation: Do I have the knowledge to be part of a collaborative process in food security and policy? Will I have a career that I believe in?

At the end of May, what with finals finishing and summer school starting, I took up gardening and the Insanity Workout challenge to deal with the depression that began to form. I meant to talk about both months ago (including said depression), but the more I fell in love with both concepts and the more the situational depression darkened my disposition, the more quiet I became about it. In truth, I was afraid that if I wrote about the processes and failed en route, there would be a documented reminder of those failures for the entire world to see, and thus creating one more reason to be upset. My friends and family knew about both exploits, but I wanted to post the finished products (in other words, the triumphs) on the site.

But I saw both experiments through, and I am extremely proud of myself for that. I finished Insanity after ten weeks (still doing it from time to time, although not as religiously as the 6x weekly schedule), and I started that garden I always wanted. “There are worse things to do during Grad School,” Mama Dazz had said a joke, because when I am set to do something, I do it (and this can be positive and negative, depending on the context).
 
That being said, it all started with dirt.

Correction: It all started with one thousand pounds of dirt.

Mama Dazz gifted me with ten tree planter containers, in the logic that container gardening was easier to manage and you could control the type of soil you worked with. I initially started with small plants ready for transfer (nothing fancy… just Home Depot purchases): two tomato plants, three pepper plants, two garlic cloves (from the store), one cucumber plant, one okra plant, seven sweet potato plants, and a series of herbs that I thought would be good for beginners. I also transplanted my elderberry bush into one, and after it finally assimilated to the outdoors, it began to thrive beautifully.

I used two cinderblocks to plant flowers from packets I bought from MOM’s Organic Market, and a plastic container to grow bell peppers from seeds we got at Trader Joe’s. I also simply planted a whole pumpkin into the ground last fall to see if it would be as successful as the accidental garden I had the year before…  you know, just for giggles.

To reiterate, I didn’t do this to eat what I grew, but to go through the process of tending to different kinds of plants and learning what helps them grow or causes them to fail. Both the cucumber and pumpkin plants didn’t turn out so well. I got one cucumber from the plant early in the summer, but after that the little cucumbers that could were consistently shriveling up. The pumpkin created beautiful leafs and flowers until the white spots formed and the flowers were falling off. The vine showed signs of rot, and thus I gave it (along with my cucumber plant) a proper burial in my compost pile.

The nightshades were the most successful and the easiest to grow. So successful, in fact, that both tomato plants are heavy with fruit and the peppers popular among the pests. 

 

The sweet potatoes were my instant gratification harvest; even though the tubers were relatively small, I still enjoyed pulling them up from the soil and seeing what ninety days in the soil did for their growth.

Gardening gives me a sense of responsibility and control while dealing with stress. It’s a meditation of sorts to go outside in the morning and/or in the late afternoon, turn on the hose and do my rounds (starting with the quince tree I got Mama Dazz, refilling the birdbath, and then watering my garden). I feel empowered that I can work with plants and learn how they succeed and how they perish.

I feel my Green Thumb rooting itself in my consciousness for the future, and that future is currently looking into beets, winter greens, carrots, and radishes for a December harvest.

Keeping it Simple

The year 2013 has had a rocky start. We’ve survived the 2012 “End of the World”, not to mention healing from natural disasters, human tragedies, and individual paradigm shifts. Everyone seems to have removed themselves from their normal routines, lives spinning sporadically away from old patterns. 

The GFRR has been around since the start of 2011. The movement brought together a group of innovative bloggers to show how working with the ratio of a recipe makes being gluten-free a whole lot easier. Every first Wednesday of the month I was inspired by the recipes they came up with: the flours they used, additional ingredients and flavors they incorporated, and the stories they told with their recipes. The participants are found all over the world, and their posts are viewed all over the world. For the first time, I felt camaraderie and acceptance in my trials for a healthier life, and I learned so much from the bloggers who have been part of the healthy eating movement years before Meals with Morri was created.

But life happens and people happily or grudgingly move on wherever life takes them. Be it school, work, children, a crisis, or all of the above, many people within the GFRR have been dealing with a lot lately. Less and less of us have been able to post our recipes, simply because other things have taken priority. I know, because school and my health have been of utmost importance to me since graduate school started. Meals with Morri is still a passion of mine, but at the moment it sits on the back burner, simmering and waiting for its time to shine.

I admit that I don’t post as much as I like, because I’ve started monitoring the relevance of my posting. I’d really like to talk more about health (not just concerning the thyroid), how rock climbing is bringing positive change to my outlooks on life, on food security/justice and how it drives my ultimate goal in becoming a conflict resolution practitioner, and traveling around to show the world the newest innovations of sustainable development and environmental change. It has nothing to do with the gluten free movement as such, but it has everything to do with a healthier outlook for the world and healing.

There are days I’ll look back at old posts and shake my head, asking myself “why in the world did I post this recipe?” The photos were crap. The concept of the recipe was complicated and overtly complex. I didn’t know much about healing, and changed on a dime to new possibilities of wellness. In short, the majority of my blogging has been one huge trial and error phenomenon. And I have loved every minute of it.

I’m not the only one, though. The food bloggers I’ve come to know on my adventures have lives to lead and are dealing with the exact same things I am. We’re transforming how we perceive wellness and our place in the movement, and it usually means being away from the computer to do other things and be with the people who matter most to us. We’ve started picking and choosing what to focus on right now, and what can be dropped or worked on later. Sadly, and although I completely understand and have done the same thing, it appears the GFRR has currently been put on hold.

People are simplifying their lives, blogging less or going another direction entirely in their blogging. And I’ve noticed that, since starting my new healing regimen, I want to simplify my life… starting with the recipes I post.

February’s challenge was all about waffles, and I was the host. I had a late start to getting the challenge out there, but in the end, my recipe and the other participant (Heather of Discovering the Extraordinary) have two recipes for your enjoyment.

Whenever the GFRR rolled around, I thought how I could make my recipe stand out and be different, mostly before I even grasped the concept of the basic ratio. I desired to be creative and different, to use ingredients not commonly used. But I started to think about how some people may not have access to certain ingredients, or becoming overwhelmed with all the different components I used. I want Meals with Morri recipes to be more user-friendly, and I felt waffles would be the perfect place to start.

For one, I’ve noticed there are numerous ways to make a waffle. There are different recipes and waffle irons from all around the globe. In the U.S. the most prevalent waffle types are:

The American Waffle: recipes “vary significantly, but are often made from a batter leavened with baking powder and may be round, square, or rectangular in shape. They are usually served as a sweet breakfast food, topped with butter and maple syrup, bacon, and other fruit syrups, honey, or powdered sugar.” (source)

The Belgian Waffle: “a type of waffle popular in North America identified by its larger size, lighter batter and higher grid pattern which forms deep pockets and has larger squares than the standard American waffle… It is somewhat similar to the Brussels waffle, but Brussels waffles are hard and crispy on the outside. As opposed to a traditional North American waffle, the Belgian waffle traditionally uses yeast instead of baking powder, although contemporary Belgian waffles are often made with baking powder. In North America, they are often eaten as a breakfast food; toppings vary from whipped cream, confectioners sugar, soft fruit, chocolate spread, to syrup and butter or margarine. Alternatively, they are served with vanilla ice cream and fresh fruit (such as strawberries) as a dessert.” (source)

As a kid, I didn’t have waffles or pancakes on a regular basis. I just wasn’t a fan of some breaded thing drowning in syrup as this huge soggy mass of sweetness. So I ate what other kids did when they wanted waffles: the frozen, toastable kind.

The waffle iron wasn’t used often, mostly because I felt it wasn’t my iron of choice. It didn’t have a crunchy exterior to pocket the toppings in the little squares. It was simply a pancake in waffle form. But then I was gifted with a Belgian waffle iron; and with this new-found desire to keep things simple and uncomplicated, I haven’t looked back since.

Blueberry Waffles

96 g Buckwheat flour
84 g Quinoa flour
60 g Brown rice flour
420 ml Whole milk
14 g Unsweetened applesauce
2 Large eggs, separated
60 ml Melted butter (unsalted)
1/2 tsp. Baking soda
1/2 tsp. Unrefined apple cider vinegar
1/8 tsp. Sea salt
300 g Fresh blueberries*

In a large mixing bowl, combine the flours, milk, and applesauce to sit on the counter overnight.
Preheat the waffle iron according to the manufacturer’s instructions.
Add the egg yolks, leavening agents, sea salt, and blueberries to the batter and set aside.
Either with a hand mixer or by hand, beat the egg whites until soft peaks form and fold them into the batter.
When the waffle iron is hot pour enough batter for one waffle (roughly 1 U.S. cup for mine) evenly over the grid, easing it toward, but not into, the corners and edges with a wooden spoon or silicone spatula.
Close the waffle iron and cook until it opens easily (or as the manufacturer’s instructions suggests), which is usually about four minutes or until the waffles are a golden brown color.
Keep warm (a preheated oven on 200°F will do nicely) while you repeat with the remaining batter, greasing the iron as needed.
When all the waffles are cooked, serve warm.

Makes 6 waffles.

*Fresh blueberries in a Belgian waffle iron may not be the best idea (it tended to stick), so I'd recommend using dried fruit if desired. They were still delicious, though...

The Truth is Somewhere in the Middle

Warning: may contain less than pleasant descriptions of bodily functions and words of ranting, needing advice, and strong-ish language.

Ever have those moments where you perceive that everything is happening at once and time is moving faster than you can handle and run-on sentences suddenly make sense and your body is exhausted and your mind keeps going and then… BAM! You hit a wall.

Yeah, I absolutely “adore” those moments too.

As mentioned in my last post (an astonishing two weeks ago), I’ve had tummy troubles. This term is an understatement, but I try to keep the content of this blog as family friendly as possible. I was so terrified of my symptoms and the pain that I scheduled two ASAP appointments with a gastroenterologist and an urologist. Add the fear of the unknown with emotional/hormonal upset in the form of body image obsession… My two weeks MIA from MWM have not been all rainbows and free hugs. But goodness, I wish it had been.

For a week it seemed like I was balancing a number of plates in the air with spectators looking on, ready for a good laugh. I wanted to do so much, be so much, in a short time frame. And instead, when everything was expected to crash down, porcelain shards littering the floor, some spectators were kind enough to join the act in assisting. Some plates were added and others removed, but little by little I could balance the aspects of my life. And while I was overwhelmed by it all, it isn’t as bad as it was.

If I could list all the plates I have been balancing based on their importance and priority and my focus of them, it would be thus: Health (includes all aspects), Grad school, Future, Miscellaneous obligations, Work, Family and Friends, Meals with Morri, and so on. The overall feeling of crappiness health-wise bled onto the other plates, and I was so exhausted and so stressed out and internally so toxic it started to physically manifest in the form of bloating and red bumps around my eyes, hands, and elbows.

I waited and waited and waited until I couldn’t take it anymore. The pain was terrible, the Google searches foretold impending doom, and the inner dialogue was scattered and anxious. Doctors’ offices were called and appointments were made. And if there is one moral in this story, people, it is the following:

“The truth is somewhere in the middle.”

The gastroenterologist I met with is an esteemed practitioner in his field of practice. Mama Dazz even visited him back when she was in her early twenties and recommended his expertise. With appointments like this I tend to be nervous. I lose all sorts of control and power when presented to doctors in general, so it was nice to have her come with me. I walk into his office and the usual questions are asked: Why are you seeing me today? How long have you experienced these symptoms? What have you done thus far in regards to treatment, management, etc.? What additional medications are you taking? What does your diet look like…?

The last two questions resulted in him essentially going into a tirade about how as far as he could see, a healthy young woman did not need hypothyroid medication and most certainly should not be on a gluten/soy/refined sugar free diet. From this conversation I was shaken to the core. This person did not know my history and had only one doctor-patient meeting to go on. He did not know how much better I felt eating the foods I ate, or how the Armour Thyroid did indeed affect my life positively. I felt so small leaving his office. I began to cry when the discussion turned to possibly having to incorporate gluten and soy based foods in my diet for tangible analysis in future blood work, to stop taking my hypothyroid medicine, and to think about a colonoscopy in the next couple of weeks (his recommendation, but not something I plan on doing right now).

Upon reflection, I realized I was given a broader image of what ethics and values the health industry contained. The majority of my health providers (such as Hurlock and Harris) are holistically based. They tend to focus on the intangible evidence and have a more qualitative outlook on healing. The gastroenterologist, however, as I perceived him is a man of numbers and facts, needing tangible evidence to satisfy his quantitative logic. My other grievance was, along with his strong opinions about my life, he didn’t really provide me with any answers, only diagnosing me with terms I’ve had been labeled with all my life. He mentioned ASD (anxiety stress disorder) and IBS, but I knew that already. What I didn't know was how I could fix a lifetime of adrenal fatigue and self-imposed stress and how my symptoms tied into it.

The urologist, another esteemed practitioner (who reminded me of the stereotypical grandfather image giving advice while on a fishing trip) was a little softer in his quantitative logic and needs for tangible evidence. Instead he listened and pondered and asked questions when appropriate. His practice was in no way what I’d consider an alternative practice, by his demeanor was. I felt no judgment as we talked about possible reasons as to why the UTI and other symptoms were happening now, and if his options matched my values and ethics. I was reserved at the thought of being on low dose antibiotics and very powerful antispasmodics for the next three months, but I do feel the difference after a week of treatment. 

The truth is somewhere in the middle, and for me that means joining the two logics and needs for evidence to see the bigger picture regarding my health. I can’t help the world sick. It’s as simple as that.

I end this long and non-recipe based post with a request. I am currently looking into other ways of stress management and anxiety diminishers. If anyone has had any experience similar to what I’ve gone through, from mindfulness exercises to probiotic recipes to balancing the antibiotic’s side effects, I’d love to hear from you.

Going with my Gut

Grad school started this week. That’s nine credits closer to getting my Masters. That’s three classes to take and three days of studying to focus on. I’ve started 2013 strong, and I am enjoying the little changes that have occurred since New Years. 

The only hindrance that has kept me from complete happiness has to do with the return of my IBS. Experimenting with Primal eating gave my digestion a run for its money, and as a result my body tried to remove the toxicity through my skin (acne), my emotions (depression and severe criticism on my body), my attitude (irritability and constantly thinking about going to the bathroom), the return of my sleep maintenance insomnia, slight but painful UTIs, and physically in general (bloating, water retention, and fatigue).

I do want to comment that Primal eating was not the direct cause of my IBS. In fact, it had to do with my lack of good stomach flora that was mediocre at best from years of disordered eating, getting sick, and not feeding the flora with probiotic foods. For a while I believed I simply had a candida overgrowth, but I don’t think that anymore.

I am now under the impression that my stomach doesn’t have much flora at all, the good kind or the candida kind.

Partially I was taking too much of a good thing. For the majority of December I was getting over a terrible sick spell. There were days I had a fever over 101°F, and walking down to the kitchen left me breathless and exhausted. So I took as much zinc and iodine as possible to get over it, and sure enough the fever subsided and I could go to work and rock climb a week later. However, with everyone else getting sick, I continued to take iodine to protect myself, an antibiotic and serial gut flora killer (good and bad).

For a month I was beside myself, because I had no idea what I was doing wrong. I was craving honey like no tomorrow, and regardless how much I rock climbed or ran around with the kids, my body was not toning as I expected it to. My face had broken out as it had back when I was a pre-teen, and my hormones were part of one manic roller coaster ride. By this time I was desperate to try anything, and it was an “aha!” moment that changed everything.

Before anything else in regards to my health, I needed to fix my gut first.

I first showed improvement by increasing my daily intake of probiotic foods: kombucha, goat kefir, raw unrefined apple cider vinegar, and raw cacao nibs. The first two were easy to put into my daily routine in the form of smoothies, and I always put apple cider vinegar on my salads. The cacao nibs have become a new after dinner dessert, but I enjoy the indulgence. I went food shopping at MOM’s one day to purchase one or two more probiotic yumminess when I stumbled upon miso… soy-free miso. 

Since reading Katz’s Wild Fermentation, I’ve wanted to make soy free miso and tempeh. And here it was in MOM’s refrigerated section next to the bulk items, singing  “try me, try me”.

I just want to say this: I’m in love with azuki bean miso. And what’s not to like about the salty and sweet flavor combination, with over one million enzymes of probiotic goodness in every teaspoon? It’s ridiculously versatile and delicious and amazing for you too. 

Soy-free Mushroom & Onion Miso Soup

1 Q. Water
25 g Dried mushrooms*
4 Large onions, thinly sliced
64 g (4 tbsp.) South River Azuki Bean Miso**
10 g Dried sliced brown seaweed

In a medium saucepan put the mushrooms in with the water to soak for fifteen minutes until plump.
Plan on medium-high heat and add the onions and cook until translucent and the mushrooms are soft.
Turn off the heat and add the seaweed and miso, and stir to make sure the miso has thoroughly integrated with the broth.
Ladle into four small bowls and serve hot.

Makes 4 servings.

*Using dry provides a more meaty texture to the mushrooms. However, I’m sure fresh will do nicely (about 125 g).

**Or whichever miso you like/have at home.

Reminiscing the Old and Planning the New

I am a planner. I like to plan things out, lay it out in manageable stages of logic of where I’ve started and how it will end. Starting things and ending things have always been a relatively easy task for me. The middle part on the other hand… not so much.

December passed by in a blur of anxiety, accomplishment, illness, sorrow, and people. There was a week following my final papers that consisted of a 101°F fever, coughing and sneezing and fairly vulnerable. All the plans I had for December, all those recipes, climbing problems, and yoga practices, didn’t happen. And for once, my plans to have everything done on time, precise and accurate, were tossed to the wind to make way of a much-needed break from it all. I slept. I wept. I ate. I loved.

I feel so grateful for this “shift or be shifted” year, with months of “aha” moments and triumphs and changes:

January was all about trying new ways to be physically active and making the perfect cornbread recipe.

February was a month of adventure, learning about various eating lifestyles, and the start to taking photography seriously as an art form/science.

 
March was the month of honoring my progression and loving myself, regardless of the bumps along the way.

April celebrated my one-year blogversary with what I learned and what I planned to learn before April 2013 rolled around.

May was the start of understanding how diet and exercise helped in healing a hypothyroid condition. Oh, and let’s not forget Graduation, which inspired me to continue my academic career in the graduate program in the School for Conflict Analysis and Resolution.

June was an honest month, and finally realizing how important taking care of myself really is.

July was the start of experimenting with pareve bento box snapshots, heartbreak on multiple levels, becoming adamant in weekend farmers markets, and supporting local food sources with a social justice twist.

August brought with it a movement of fermentation and homemade nut butters, personal growth and graduate school classes.

September gave me my first product review and coming face-to-face with hidden depths of life's grievances and growing pains.

October brought series of hard lessons, new priorities, a deeper relationship to family that will always be there no matter what, and loving all things simple.

 
November was my month of experimenting with Primal Blueprint eating, playing with gluten free beer, and twenty-three things I learned by my twenty-third birthday.

 
And December finished the year on a sweeter note than I could have ever hoped for.

With the last day before the New Year, I thought to share a recipe I was quite proud of. Even with many of December’s plans (there’s that word again) left undone, I have had plenty of time to get ready with January’s plans, more so intentions than they are resolutions. 

Happy New Year, everyone. Have fun and be safe!

 

Winter Gingerbread Cut-out Cookies (inspired by this recipe)

150 g Garbanzo bean flour
75 g Flaxseed meal
75 g Coconut flour
50 g Mesquite powder
1 tsp. Baking soda
2 tsp. Ground ginger
1 tsp. Cinnamon
1 tsp. Raw cacao powder (regular cocoa powder is fine)
1/4 tsp. Sea salt
1/4 tsp. Cracked pepper
125 g Unsalted butter, chilled and cut into small cubes
175 g Honey
1 Large egg

Measure out the flours, baking soda, and spices and pour into the bowl of the food processor to mix (a few pulses should do for mixing just fine).
Add the butter and blend until the mix looks like breadcrumbs, and then add the honey and egg until a sticky ball of dough forms.
Remove the dough from the food processor and mold into a thick disk to wrap in with parchment paper or saran wrap.
Place it in the fridge for 15 minutes to set.
Preheat the oven to 350°F, and line two baking trays with parchment paper.
Roll the dough out to a 1/4-inch thickness on a lightly floured surface (I used additional garbanzo bean flour).
Using your choice of cutters (I used my Ikea animal shapes, plus a few people, hearts, trees, and moons), cut out the shapes and place on the baking tray, leaving a gap between them.
Bake for 12-15 minutes (my oven’s baking time was between 13 and 14 minutes), or until lightly golden-brown.
Leave on the tray for 10 minutes and then move to a wire rack to finish cooling.
Continue cutting out the dough and baking until all of it has been used.*
When cooled decorate with the writing icing and cake decorations of your choice, but they are delicious as is and perfect for dunking into hot drinks.

Makes (roughly) three dozen cookies.

*Be sure the baking trays have cooled down completely before adding another batch!

Not Quite the Caveman

My experiment with going Primal for "Good Nutrition Month" ended after three weeks. I couldn’t tell you when exactly it went awry, but I could tell you something was wrong before my birthday, and probably as early as a week into the dietary lifestyle change. All I know is I am honoring "Good Nutrition Month" by switching back to my old routine, though I still feel a little guilty not keeping it up for another week. 

When I said going Primal isn’t as difficult as you think it is, I truly meant it. For one, three weeks of no legumes, grains, no coffee, and limited fruit/sweetener intake was a challenge and an interesting way of evaluating my past and present dietary lifestyle. I was disappointed that my body reacted the way it did, as I was so excited to be part of the modern caveman experience, to positively figure out what my body needed in order to do what I wanted. I gawked at many of the people who ate this lifestyle, the majority who were “strictly” Paleo/Primal while others used a creative license (but nonetheless have a less-processed ethical-omnivore way of looking at food), and I was inspired to do the same. They were the epitome of "healthy" in my eyes, absolutely and marvelously in shape and beautiful in every way possible.

So I took out legumes and grains and incorporated raw and cultured dairy products. I went through the first week craving fruits and eating a ton of almond butter, followed by my appetite beginning to finally subside and mellow. The removal of coffee and the addition of progesterone to my hormonal therapy followed. Throughout October and part of November did I realize I was back to using food and exercise as a means of controlling my body to balance the uncontrollable situations coming at me in waves. With that came terrible IBS upset, intense intestinal distress, and shifting from one emotion to another in a matter of seconds.

I do not believe going Primal caused this imbalance; rather, I think doing too many good things at once finally caught up with me and turned sour. I do believe going from legume lover and grain glutton to “Me, Caveman. Four-leg, Dinner” overnight is not particularly smart for someone whose body stresses with immediate change. I do believe this experiment was worth it, and encourage people to try new ways of eating (safely and for the right reasons). And above all else, I do believe in honoring what my body tells me. When it says "enough", I listen. 

I loved making Primal meals, and I look forward to making them again. Perhaps two of the three main meals and all snacks throughout the day will have Primal tendencies. Perhaps four days out of the week will hold true to Mark’s Daily Apple “Primal Blueprint” movement while I enjoy huevos rancheros, overnight oats, socca, and legumes on the other three. I give what my body needs, and for the moment it needs gluten free grains and peanut butter. 

Twenty-three Things

It was a glorious birthday weekend. I rock climbed and made primal-friendly brownies. I had a 1920s/Prohibition themed birthday party with mead making, classy friends, and laughter. I walked around with Daddy-O after a light lunch and returned with a Belgian waffle maker in tow. And now, with primal eating and my body in a love-not love relationship at the moment, I am taking it easy by writing this post, my birthday spirit still intact.

On Friday the 16th I turned twenty-three. I’ve heard people give up on the birthday magic after a certain age (most notably in the U.S., becoming legal to drink alcohol on your twenty-first), but not me. Turning twenty-three was awesome, because I feel my age in the most positive of aspects. I may not know what life has in store for me this year, but I have learned a lot thus far.

1. Living safely is not the same as living smartly.
2. I stopped aiming for perfection, and started living for progression.
3. Community is not only something you find; it’s something you make.
4. It’s okay to not be everything at once, and it’s okay to not be everything at once at twenty-three.
5. It is never too late to learn something, and it is never too late to start something new.
6. When asked “What is the point of life?”, this was my response: “I think there really is no one single answer to this question. My meaning is not your meaning, and your meaning isn't mine. Some people spend their entire lives looking for it, while others run into it one random November day. It may take seconds, minutes, days, weeks, months, years, decades, and lifetimes to figure it out, but you won't know unless you put yourself out there for the Universe to show you what it offers. Sometimes dreams and goals take time, even grunt work and sh*t work that you may not like. Ask yourself ‘Is it worth it?’ for each and every dream and goal you have. If the answer is ‘no’, then move on to something that is.”
7. Observe without judgment; behind every action is a need.
8. There is no such thing as one perfect body, fitness regimen, or dietary lifestyle. (More on the this after Thanksgiving.)
9. The language your body speaks to you with is possibly one of the hardest and easiest languages you could learn.
10. How do you start to become great at something? By deciding you’re great at it.
11. When in doubt, make belief.
12.  I’m like a chess piece playing the best game I can with the squares I have accessible to the rules of the board.
13. You don’t have to be “on” all the time to be productive.
14. Being genuine has gotten me further than being nice.
15. I strive for community service that is for more than just humanity.
16. My progress is my progress, and it is still progression regardless of the time it takes.
17. Bettering yourself (looks, diet, fitness, education, work, life, etc…) just to prove to someone else what your are worth will never give you the satisfaction you think you’ll get from it.
18. If you treat your body like it’s something to control and fix, it will always be in constant rebellion.
19. Comparing myself to others is a disservice to both parties.
20. I am not my condition.
21. Living in optimism does not mean living with unrealistic expectations.
22. What climbing and yoga have taught me is to reach even with the fear of falling, to be flexible and self-aware, to breathe with purpose, to accept the not-today’s and celebrate the little wins, and to always keep trying.
23. Life is the biggest science experiment there is.

Primal Birthday Brownies (inspired by this recipe)

180 g Coconut oil, solid and at room temperature
125 g Cocoa powder
240 ml Whole milk
100 g Honey
3 Large eggs
240 g Almond meal
1/2 tsp. Sea salt
1/2 tsp. Bourbon vanilla extract

Preheat the oven to 325°F.
Place the coconut oil and cocoa powder in a bowl and mix well.
Add the coconut milk, honey, eggs, almond meal, and spices and blend until combined.
Pour the brownie mixture into a greased 8x8” pan* and smooth the surface of the mixture.
Bake for 30 minutes, then remove and allow it to cool before cutting into individual servings.

Makes 20 servings.

*I was able to make two batches with this recipe, though I do believe the thicker the brownie layer, the gooier and less cake-like it will be.

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.