Sweet Potato and Zucchini Frittata

I’m counting down the days until I leave for Malta. It’s strange, almost like a dream, to be planning for a year abroad. The semester is half over, and there is so much to consider: medication, budgeting, schoolwork along with a 40-hour workweek. It’s all so surreal, but it’s typical of me. I never do things at half-mast. If I’m going to experience change, it’s going to be a ton of changes all at once, like a Band-Aid being pulled off quickly to avoid the prolonged suffering.

Thirty-eight days. I have just over a month and a week until I fly to Europe. Thirty-eight days to see as many people as I can, to make as many memories as I can, and to get as much schoolwork and paperwork done as possible before I board that plane. What books do I bring? What clothes do I pack? Would I be able to pack the large teddy bear that CK (the boyfriend, that is) gave me for Christmas last year? Could I pack my hobbies and paint, sew, rock climb, and photograph while I was away? What about the Insanity workout and yoga? What about gardening?

Volunteering as a Photographer for MD's Halloween Bloc Party

It’s all so daunting in an exciting, holy crap sort of way. I’ve never been to a place that didn’t have leaves change or snow fall during months that usually do in my neck of the woods before. Actually, I’ve never been to the Mediterranean before either, but I’ve heard wonderful things from CK (you can get to know him here). For one thing, the cheese and the wine are famous for reasons taste buds can accredit; for another, local food sources year-round would be in abundance. These things excite me almost as much as the internship and being in the same time zone as CK do. There’s an entire culture I get to be part of, with recipes to make to further understand the country I’ll be living in.

But what about the autumn weather I so enjoy here on the east coast? What about the fall flavors of root vegetables and warm spices to fill you up and ground you: will it be the same over in Malta? Will baked apples, squash, and other slow-cooked foods provide the same satisfaction in Mediterranean weather as it does around this time of year back home?

I have no idea, but I’m excited to find out. Until then, I have a series of recipes that are perfect for the autumn season: warm, filling, nutritious, and (as always) gluten-free.

Sweet Potato and Zucchini Frittata

1 tbsp. Ghee*
1 tbsp. Olive oil
600 g / 3 small Sweet potatoes, shredded
1 Green zucchini, shredded
1 Yellow onion, halved and sliced into thin crescents
4 Garlic cloves
100 g Fresh kale, coarsely chopped
9 Large eggs, blended
Sea Salt, to taste
Herbs, to taste**
3 Small tomatoes, sliced thinly

Preheat the oven to 350°F.
In a large, deep skillet (or stainless steel wok) on medium heat, pour the oils and spread along the bottom of the pan.
At smoking point, add the onions and sauté for a minute or so, and then the sweet potato, zucchini, and garlic.
Cover and let soften for five to ten minutes, stirring periodically to make sure it cooks thoroughly but doesn’t burn.
Once softened, turn off the heat and toss in the salt and herbs, followed by the eggs (you may need to turn the mixture in the pan to ensure even coating).
Place the tomatoes on top in a design of your choosing.
Cover the pan with foil and baked in the oven for 30 minutes.
Take the foil of the top and allow the frittata to bake for another 20 - 30 minutes or until done.
Remove from the oven and let it sit for a couple minutes.
Slice into wedges and serve hot.

Makes 4 Servings.

*If you don't have ghee, you can substitute with regular butter. If you want this to be completely dairy free, you can just use 2 tbsp. olive oil instead.

**You could do just about anything with this dish regarding herbs. I mean, I considered allspice and cinnamon. But I ended up with a couple dashes each of tarragon, basil, and Parisian Bonnes Herbes.

The Aftermath: Coming Together in Support for Sandy

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

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

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

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

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

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

Roasted Pork Loin and Vegetables

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

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

Makes 6 – 8 servings.

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

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

The Fickleness of Spring and Healing

Spring is possibly the most capricious of all the seasons. It was a mere two days ago that the campus had clear blue skies and the sun warming our faces. There were more people outside than there were in classes. Runners breezed by fashionably clad students, enjoying the heat on their shirtless backs while listening to goodness-knows-what on their iPods.

Wednesday was a good day, a crepe-based day.

I enjoyed Thursday’s cooler weather, the winds playing tricks on girls with short skirts and long hair. Environmental awareness booths sprang up to celebrate Earth Week, talking with students and faculty alike about sustainable energy and growing produce on campus. Since I had my camera with me, I decided to record the liveliness of campus on my way to my interpersonal conflict resolution class at 1:30 p.m.

And again, on my way to the car.

I spend my Thursday evenings at home with the folks. I get to cook dinner, drink tea and watch a movie with Mama Dazz, and maybe talk shop with the Burt-man if he hasn’t gone out to play tennis or D&D. I usually fall asleep with a cat or two on my legs, sleepy and content underneath the warmth of my Jersey knit t-shirt sheets.

Then, I wake up to today. It’s Friday, my day free of class and the start of the weekend. I sleep in anywhere between 8:30 and 9:00 a.m., make myself a mug of Joe and plop myself on the sofa to watch cartoons and eat some breakfast. Today’s breakfast was my second attempt of the rice breakfast bake, only I used the entire egg, a tablespoon buckwheat flour instead of amaranth flour, and 1/4 teaspoon of vanilla. I also put it in a small iron skillet so the bake would cook all the way through, though I think I didn’t keep it in the oven long enough.

The result was similar to yesterday’s, but I’m getting better. Actually, I have a really cool concept for tomorrow’s breakfast bake. It will be Edible Perspective worthy, I assure you.

As for the weather, it was the polar opposite to the warmth and sunshine celebrated on Wednesday. I woke up to a cloudy morning, cold and wet. That’s not to say I don’t enjoy this type of weather, because I do. I lived in Växjö, Sweden’s version of Portland, for the fall and winter months last year. Weeks went by where thick clouds blanketed the town and the sun was absent from view. I enjoy rainy days and cool weather, but today was different.

Today, I felt off. Not like the hustle and bustle on campus yesterday and the day before.

Originally I planned on going to the gym after going to the bank, do an hour of running and half an hour of weight lifting. But as I neared the campus, heading to my dorm to pick up my work out gear, I decided against it. Clearly my body was telling me it didn’t want strenuous activity today. And if my sessions with Cheryl have taught me anything, it’s to trust what my body is saying and to listen.

Still I wondered why I was feeling so peculiar. Could it be that I needed a chill-pill after the vigorous week I had? Could it be that my body was responding to the weather changing to such a low temperature overnight? It has been three days since I changed my Armour Thyroid dosage from 30-30 to 60-30. Is my body reacting to that?

When I was first prescribed Armour Thyroid, my body was acting like it was New Orleans celebrating Mardi Gras. Everything about anything was amazing those first few days. I felt productive, attractive, and energetic. My mood wasn’t a crazy roller coaster ride, linked to my hunger or quick to change. True, I still see the metamorphosis, but it’s quieter, calmer, and not as noticeable.

For some reason my calorie counting has come back, though it isn’t as bad or as obsessive like it was before. I have to remind myself of the lessons I learned reading “Eating in the Light of the Moon” by Anita A. Johnston PhD. and her take on labyrinths.  Though it may seem you are going backwards, you are really moving closer to the center. I may have made it to the center, but now it’s about taking path back out. I am taking the same journey I took before only in a different way, so naturally the things I overcame will still frequent the grounds.

The kicker is how I am the second time around.

This journey is turning out harder than I thought. If I were to be completely honest, I was expecting a complete turnaround in a matter of two weeks, a month at most. Almost all the changes I’m experiencing are internal, generally emotional and mental, sometimes physiological. But my preconceived notions of what I was expecting the Armour Thyroid was going to do for me has been significantly different than to what I am undergoing as of late.

As of now, my hands and feet are warm, my body temperature has risen to a normal range. I am not hungry unless I am physically hungry, and only eat at those times. My mind is alert, my heart is open, my words are honest without fear, my demeanor is calm and, as mentioned previously, my mood isn’t all over the place.

So, with all of these awesome things, what was I still hoping for?

I wanted physical change, an instantaneous cure overnight despite knowing that healing doesn’t work that way. I thought the Armour Thyroid would increase my metabolism, help my body rid itself of the unnecessary water weight I carried, becoming a whole new me. These two things have happened, but I was sort of expecting something more apparent. I’ll be frank here; I wanted rapid weight loss. With all those years of frustration, of the inability to lose weight and the faulty wiring that linked my head to my stomach, I thought it would be the Ugly Duckling story incarnate. I thought I would shed off the old Morri and the new Morri, Morri 2.0, the Goddess of health and happiness, would come forward. And I see her, a blurred reflection in the mirror. She’s almost here; I just have to wait.

I keep telling myself I chose to walk down the labyrinth, that the old Morri’s troubles are still within its walls. They come at me as I walk back to the opening of the maze, but they are not as tangible as they once were, their attacks not as effective, their images slowly fading out of existence.

I am learning and relearning the differences between healing and curing. These terms are not synonymous, though they tend to mingle and sometimes work alongside the other. Healing is a process that never quite ends, one that requires constant evaluation and adjusting. But curing is different. Curing is a quick fix, a process that can happen over night. Really, I wanted a bit of both, instant fixes that only got better and better. Sometimes I think my healing efforts are going backwards, especially when my hands are cold or my throat has that “choked-up” sensation.

But now I realize why cooking has such a mystical affect on me. As you begin the process of making a meal, you combine ingredients, adding one at time and tasting as you go, and sometimes the end result isn’t what you expect, though sometimes it is. Then you make it a second time, a third time, maybe even a seventh time.

Then, you get it right. And it’s the best feeling in the world.