Coconut matcha pudding

Confession: I'm kind of obsessed with chia seeds. And matcha. That's what happens when you work at a natural foods co-op for too long, I suppose. Here's a fix for your sweet tooth that's pretty legitimately good for you.  Because I love you.  

 Coconut matcha pudding 

3 cups coconut milk beverage (not the can, but the carton)

2/3 c chia seed

2 T agave syrup

2 t matcha powder

1 t vanilla extract

In a saucepan, heat the coconut milk until steaming.  Whisk in the matcha, agave, and vanilla.  

Pour into a large glass jar and add the chia seeds.  

Shake well.    

After about four hours, the chia seeds will have absorbed most of the liquid.  

Serve cold.

Makes about six servings.  

Foraged wild violets

 

Pesto zucchini noodles with tiny tomatoes

Welcome back!  Here we are, day two of the Eat Local Challenge, and we've already run into a major road block.

PASTA.

Mine is  boy who cannot live with a bowl of pasta. (Truth be told, neither can I.) And so to keep it local, we had to move a little outside of the boxed semolina.

I've been reading about zucchini pasta in books and on blogs for ages, but I've never attempted it for a few reasons.
One:  I really don't like zucchini.  (true fact, but keep reading. There's hope.)
Two: It seemed really complicated to make.  Annoyingly complicated. Time-suckingly complicated.
Three: Why on earth would I trade delicious pasta for a lackluster & annoyingly nutritious alternative?

Why, to keep it local, of course!

Well. I was, as you might imagine, totally wrong about zucchini pasta.  It takes only slightly more time than boiling water/noodles and you can feel absolutely righteous to have found a way to convince people like me that zucchini is, in fact, not a depressing waste of growing space. It's also a perfect way to use those mutant zucchinis that grow as big as your arm.

Here's what you need to do.

Zucchini Noodles

Wash and pare your zucchini.  I suppose if you have a lot of spare time you can peel it too, but I rather like the green edges. Slice thinly lengthwise, and then stack the slices to cut lengthwise again. The thinner you get it, the more deceptively pasta-like it will be.

(A mandoline will be helpful if you're as much of a perfectionist as I am. I really wanted my pasta to LOOK like pasta.)

I used a zucchini as big as my forearm (I'm a petite lady, but not quite a dwarf) and it produced enough to feed two hungry people.

Bring a pot of water to a boil, and salt well.  Drop your strands into the rapidly boiling water and stir.  After a minute, quickly drain and rinse in cold water to stop them from cooking further.

I decided (based on the strengths of my own garden this year, and the ridiculous ninety degree weather) to  whip up a simple cold pesto (with great handfuls of home grown basil, several tiny cloves of garlic, sunflower oil and local cheese, thank you!) and toss the noodles with the juiciest tiny tomatoes I could find.

It was  Herby. Acidic.  Refreshing. Green. and far more delicious than I could have anticipated.

Jack was skeptical at first, but easily won over by the slickly tender green noodles and brightly tart tomatoes.

And I hate to admit I was wrong, but I can really see myself going out of my way to surround myself with zucchinis in my future. I'm dreaming of creamy ricotta, chard, garlic and spices sandwiched between lasagna-like layers. Manicotti-like bundles of oozing cheeses and spicy sausages. Whispers of angel hair tossed with wine, shrimp and a handful of fresh herbs.  Ok, Zucchini.  You win this time.

Speaking of winning, every ingredient used today was sourced either directly from my garden or within fifty miles of my home. I hate to brag, but I'm feeling pretty confident about the challenge!

xoxo,
Mary Catherine

Milwaukee & Detroit, sitting in a tree...

Good Gracious!

Here we are, already in the throes of August. Well.  I've been busy, of course, but never too busy for a little cooking (and guest-blogging) with friends!  Especially smart, funny friends like the lovely Amy (of Night Train fame) who's finishing up her first book! Applaud for Amy, please.

Make sure to hop a Night Train to Detroit to see what I had to say about Milwaukee and German potato salad and don't forget to congratulate dear Amy!

xoxo, 

Mary Catherine

Quinoa and Kale salad!

(Watching in amazement as I pour a cup of white wine into the skillet)
Jack: Mama, what are you doing? 

Mama: I'm deglazing the pan. 

Jack: Deglazing? 

Mama: Mmhmm, it's what makes the sauce so delicious. 

Jack: Oh. (pause) Can you deglaze that thing then? Please?
(Gestures disdainfully at the quinoa & kale salad.) 
*
Not my best work, apparently. 
Everyone has an off day, even mama. 
xoxo,

Mary Catherine

Summer Vegetable Tart [Vegan]

Happy Monday, dearies!

One of my favorite things about summer (now that my sweetheart readers have demonstrated their utter excellence I can go back to loving summer...from the popsicle perfection of my lovely air conditioned home) is all of the PARTIES. If your social calendar is anything like mine, every single weekend is jammed with barbecues, impromptu dinners, pool parties, backyard luaus and potlucks. The heat wilts my social anxiety just enough for functionality's sake and wherever I turn, there's an icy mint julep with my name on it.  Ah, summer.

Today I'm going to tell you what you're going to bring the next time your favorite vegan friend has a potluck on her porch.

Here's a little secret about me and parties.  I like to look like a lady.  I like things that you can eat without looking ridiculous.  I like food that doesn't require a plate. Consequently, I like tarts.  They're self-contained, elegant, smart and a little uppity. People who don't make tarts will be impressed with you.  People who do make tarts will want to hang out with you.  It's really a win/win situation. But let's mix it up.  Bring a vegetable tart to the party.  Now you're popular and innovative!  Marry me.  

It's July and tomatoes are starting to taste how tomatoes are supposed to taste.  A warm, ripe, perfect tomato is one of the simplest and deepest pleasures in the world.  I do not understand people who don't like tomatoes.  (Frankly, I don't really care to understand them.) In addition to perfect tomatoes, the farmer's market in my neighborhood has been offering up the tiniest zucchini and the sweetest onions. And you really can't take a step in any self-respecting garden (like mine) without tripping over a tangle of herbs.   

All of those things in a flaky, rich, pastry shell?  You'll be bringing the party. Be modest.  

Summer Vegetable Tart [Vegan]

Preheat your oven to 400°

For the crust: 

1 1/2 c flour

1/2 t salt

8 T vegan margarine cut into small pieces (I am crazy about Earth Balance brand Buttery Sticks)

ice water (approximately 4-5T)

Blend the flour and salt. With a pastry cutter or knives, cut the margarine in until it resembles coarse crumbs.  Stir in enough water until the dough comes together in a nice clump. (You can totally use a food processor to do that. It takes about four seconds.) Gather it together, give it a knead or two and wrap it in plastic to chill for an hour.  

For the vegetables:

3 large sweet onions

3-5 tomatoes

zucchini

garlic

olive oil

fresh herbs

To caramelize the onions:  Slice them.  Stop crying.  Heat two tablespoons of oil in a nice, heavy saucepan over medium heat. Add the onions and stir to coat with oil.  Now cook them for-ever.  I'm kind of not kidding.  Here's the thing. Caramelized onions are amazing.  They are sweet, complex and delicious. They are worth the time it takes to make them. (Want to hear my rant about the importance of slow food? No?  Oh, okay.)  AND if you keep the heat relatively low, you can absolutely do other things while they cook.  Stir them when you think about it, and add a tiny bit of oil if they start to stick. It probably will take about an hour total.  Do it because you love someone.  Or because you have something to prove. Or because you love delicious things.  Either way.  Do it.  

Slice your tomatoes and zucchini.  I like them sliced thin to keep things from getting soggy and to ensure even cooking.  

Now let's prepare a little sauce.  We're making a pistou, which is basically a pesto without cheese or nuts. In a mortar and pestle (or food processor) throw a few cloves of garlic, a handful of your favorite herbs (I used thyme, oregano, basil, and chives) and a generous amount of olive oil.  Smash it all together until you have a beautiful emerald green paste. (I thinned mine with additional olive oil so as to brush it over the tart.) Taste it, and season with salt and pepper.  

To assemble:

Take the pastry out and unwrap it.  On a floured board, roll it out to slightly larger than your tart pan.  Mine was a rectangle, but this quantity would work for a nine inch diameter circle as well. Fit it into the pan, and prick the bottom with a fork.  Because you're going to pre-bake the crust, you should weight it. You can either waste your money on official "pie weights" at a cooking store like a dope, or be like me, and buy about two pounds of cheap beans. (Mine are navy beans.) Designate them "Pie Weights"  and don't ever eat them (because you're going to bake them over and over.)  Put a piece of parchment down on your pastry, and pour your pie weights on top.  These will keep your crust flat and perfect.  

Bake for twenty minutes.  Let cool.  (Save those pie weights for next time!)

Reduce the oven temperature to 375°

In your cooled, baked tart shell spread the caramelized onions. 

 Layer with thinly sliced tomatoes 

and brush with pistou.  

I wove the zucchini slices like a lattice over the tomatoes. You don't have to, but it sure does impress a crowd.  I think it would be pretty to alternate tomato slices with thinly sliced zucchini rounds. 

Bake for twenty minutes, until the zucchini is golden and the tomatoes are bubbling.  

It's perfect served at room temperature to a bunch of people you really like.  

What do you bring to a potluck?  

xoxo,

Mary Catherine

Some days are better than others.

Six months from now, I'll read this and scoff at my own dramatics, but good GRACIOUS, was it hot today.  (Do you know how revoltingly, repulsively, ridiculously hot Milwaukee can get in the summer?)

I am not a sunny summery kind of person.  I am a cardigan and knee socks kind of person.  A crisp breeze on a bicycle kind of person.  A cool, foggy, petrichor kind of person.  This is who I am.  I am ok with it.  Milwaukee in July is apparently NOT ok with it.  Rude.

It was too hot to do anything, except wilt miserably on the balcony with popsicles and ice water.   We skipped the market, our nap, (uh-oh) and our weekly romp in the woods. We even skipped having a nice day, let me tell you.  Mine is not a boychild who can skip a nap.

It was really too hot to be hungry, which is lucky because it was certainly too hot to even THINK about the stove.  

So I cut up what we had on hand and put it on plates.

And called it dinner. 

Five things we always have on hand. Bread (baguette), cheese (that Sartori parmesan I can't stop talking about), fruit (mission figs), green things (pea shoots), and onion things (shallots.)  (Fun fact: I will eat a sliced raw onion the way you would eat a sliced cucumber. No. Big. Deal.)

Someday my kid might talk to his therapist about dinners like this.  Fingers crossed it's because he can't find a girl (or guy) to live up to his incredible, inventive, and innovative mama. And not because he ate weird rabbit salads all summer long.

All week is going to be like this.  Hot and heavy.  (Isn't that supposed to be a good thing?) Sigh.

(Here's the part where I use subtle mind control to convince you all to gift your favorite blogger with a dang air conditioner.) 

Not really. 

(Really.)

Awkward silence. 

(Is she kidding?  She must be kidding.)

Happy Sunday, darlings. What did YOU have for dinner?

xoxo,

Mary Catherine

P.S. I also ate four squares of fake fudge in five minutes.  Because I have poor impulse control.  And because it is AMAZING.