1 + 1 = MAGIC

I have come upon a spectacular and wondrous thing. With practically zero effort, you can make these cookies and change your life forever! If you have any kind of food allergy or intolerance or issue, you can eat these cookies. If all you have is 20 minutes, you can have these cookies. If you need a quick breakfast or lovely dessert with your bag lunch, then please go make these cookies. If you don't believe that something amazing can be made with a mere TWO INGREDIENTS, then, well, you need to change your way of thinking right away! Please examine the following:

Miracle Cookies

2 ripe bananas, mashed

1 C oats (regular or quick)

Mix bananas and oats. 

At this point, you can either keep the dough this way (delicious) or add things* (even more delicious). 

Scoop and place on parchment-lined cookie sheet. (Can be placed close to each other -- they don't expand.)

Bake at 350 degrees for 15 minutes or until you see whisps of golden brown on the surface.

___________________ THAT'S ALL!!! ___________________

*For my first-ever batch, I added a handful of walnuts, a sprinkling of dark chocolate chips, some shredded coconut, and some sunflower seeds. Anything that you'd add to a regular bowl of oatmeal will be perfect. Think cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, candied ginger, dried cranberries or any dried fruit, apple bits, any sort of nut, maple syrup...you get it.

Also, see that note about parchment? Oatmeal is like glue, so use parchment or a well-oiled pan unless you want to see your cookie sheet into the garbage can when you're done with this project!

You can also use pumpkin puree in place of the banana, which is amazing, but I prefer the pumpkin ones with chocolate or coconut thrown in, since it's not nearly as naturally sweet as the banana is.

These are the very best right out of the oven, but they are also very nice several days later. I keep mine in the fridge, but I'd imagine they could exist on the counter, too.

I would like to thank the dear and lovely folks over at The Burlap Bag in Austin, Texas for this recipe.  They are the true geniuses. Thanks, guys.

Hunting Season And More

Reader-friends, I hope you've all had an amazingly satisfying Thanksgiving weekend, full of deer capturing and wildlife taming. As we shift, groaning no doubt, into a new work week, wishing for a vacation from our vacation and grasping wildly for any kind of food that does not resemble a turkey or a pumpkin, I wish you the very best of luck. We're going to need it! I've got a few ideas about how to make the following holiday food-food-food weeks bearable in a safely indulgent way, so stay tuned. Great things are coming down the line. I have so many things I am very much excited to share with you as soon as humanly possible.

And now, acknowledgements, credits, and thanks:

My dad, whose photograph you see above, taken in Suttons Bay, Michigan. All credit goes to you. Perfect find, Dad. (Mom, thanks for being with him when he took this picture. You have always been really good at getting people to places in one piece.)

My family, by blood and by not-blood. You told really great stories at all three of the Thanksgiving dinners I attended, and I love good stories. Topics included, but were not limited to: how big turkeys get, zoo babies, our "real" lives, sporting events whose rules I don't understand, idiots, where penguins live, the point of cities, "the real" Sasquatch, a 30-pack of Miller Lite + blacking out on an airplane, childhood vacations, Glamour Shots, home robbery involving nudity, corn, Communism, and what happens when a house cat goes into a rhinoceros exhibit.

My kitchen. You got me through yet another Thanksgiving preparation. Good job refrigerator, stovetop, oven, dishwasher, pots, pans, utensils, and red table. You did it!

Thanks to you, readers. You are my reason! I would write to you all day, every day if I could.

Full-bellied Thanksgiving warriors, let's all be appreciative of all we have learned and all we have gained this year. And, most importantly, let's honor all that we have lost this year. Our losses shape us more than anything else ever could.


Hurrah for our food and for our everything!

We're Getting Closer

I had this terrific plan of helping you out so much with your Thanksgiving menu, and I'm just not pulling my weight around here!

For today's installment, I offer you a side dish that will blow your guests' minds: Cauliflower-Parsnip Gratin. It's this perfect bridge between vegetables and cheese, and sort of an amazing substitute for macaroni and cheese (if, for example, you've got some gluten-cautious folks coming to Thanksgiving*). But you can also eat it and pretend like you are eating nutritious vegetables! And, because it's Thanksgiving, you can serve this AND macaroni and cheese. And a bubbling cauldron of melty cheese. And a cheese-covered turkey. And cheese-covered cheese. Goodness gracious, it's a Thanksgiving miracle!

Cauliflower-Parsnip Gratin

1 smallish head cauliflower, cut into bite-sized florets
3 medium parsnips (more or less if you'd like)
4 T unsalted butter, divided
3 T all-purpose flour
2 C hot milk
1/4 t grated nutmeg
1/2 C gruyere, cheddar, or gouda (or a combo!)
1/2 C grated asiago cheese
1/2 C grated parmesan cheese
1/3 C fresh breadcrumbs
salt and pepper

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.

Cook the cauliflower florets and parsnips in a large pot of boiling salted water for 4 minutes, until tender but still firm. Drain. (You can also steam the cauliflower in the microwave!)

Meanwhile, melt 2 tablespoons of the butter in a medium saucepan over low heat. Add the flour, whisking constantly for 2 minutes.

Pour the hot milk into the butter-flour mixture and whisk until it comes to a boil. Boil, whisking constantly, for 1 minute, or until thickened.

Off the heat, add 1 teaspoon of salt, some pepper, nutmeg, the gruyere/cheddar/gouda, and the parmesan.

Pour 1/3 of the sauce on the bottom of an 9" x 13" baking dish.

Place the drained cauliflower and parsnips on top and then spread the rest of the sauce evenly on top.

Combine the bread crumbs with the asiago and sprinkle on top. Melt the remaining 2 tablespoons of butter and drizzle over the gratin.

Bake for 25 to 30 minutes, or until the top is browned.

*This entire dish is not completely gluten-free. Obviously. Just wanted to clarify. 

For What Ails You

I've been under the weather this week, sniffling and snuffling through the days, my nose needing assistance every single second, my head foggy, and my malaise reaching sky high levels. You know how this goes. 

Mothers know best, of course, and mine tells me to rest and sleep and hydrate my pants off. And I do. But, dear GOD, do I get sick of tea. I love tea, I do. But I reach a breaking point. I know there are other drink choices out there, but here's the thing. I'm an obsessive water drinker when I'm not sick, but the very thought of plain water when I am sick makes me queasy. And juice? For someone as sugar-obsessed as I am, you'd think I'd love the stuff. But no. It's too cloying, too sweet, too much. (Unless it's combined with liquor. Which is a different, more satisfying story altogether.) And soda? Forget it! The too-sweet law applies here as well. This leaves us with very few options, I realize. Which is why, when you are sick, you are to visit the grocery store, where you will purchase some knobs of fresh ginger root and some seltzer water. You will come home, limp your ailing body into the kitchen, slice up that ginger, make yourself a simple syrup with it, and add it to seltzer in any amount you can dream of. Yes! Everyone is happy! Suddenly, you're not quite so sick anymore. It's magic.

This really is a miracle beverage, and I'm predicting that it will be a very large part of my winter beverage collection this year. (Can someone in an important food magazine please pay me to use that horribly pretentious phrase I just made up? My winter beverage collection. Ha! Beautiful.) First of all, store-bought ginger ale is really not my thing, so if it is also not your thing, withhold judgement if you would, and make this homemade ginger ale anyway. It's entirely different, entirely better. Second, everything is better with seltzer water. Bubbles, you know. Bubbles! Third, well, you will soon understand that this ginger ale will be right at home in a cocktail. Andy and I are plotting our Thanksgiving cocktail for this year, and so far, we know this: The Turkey Tail! Featuring ginger ale and liquor! (I'm thinking bourbon with the ginger ale, and perhaps a little bit of mint and orange?) So, family, get yourselves ready for that!

It's incredibly useful to be able to control the amount of sweetness in a soda-type beverage, and that's what you can do with this ginger ale. I've been using a tablespoon or two per pint of seltzer, and it's good, although sometimes just a splash of the simple syrup makes me happy. Oh, and did we mention that ginger is the thing that makes bellies so freaking happy? It's a miracle, this root and this ale. I'm really excited to share it with you. Now, for crying out loud, go get sick so that you can really appreciate the wonder of your very own ginger ale!

Homemade Ginger Ale

1/2 C sugar

1/2 C peeled, sliced ginger root

1/2 C water

Combine all ingredients in a saucepan and simmer gently, stirring occasionally, for about 15 minutes. Cool. Pull out ginger pieces, place in a glass jar, and strain simple syrup into the jar. 

Notes:

You can also just pour the whole panful into the jar for storage -- it's up to you. It will look a little more rustic if you don't strain it, but it's fine for everyday use. I'd suggest straining it if you will be sharing it with guests or using it in cocktails. 

This makes enough for either a full pitcher of ginger ale, or 6-8 glasses of the stuff. After I made my first batch of this size, I opted for a much larger amount the second time around. Just double, triple, or quadruple to your heart's content. I also like to add a piece of the ginger to each glass of the ginger ale, but I've also found that you can recycle your old ginger pieces by using them in your new batch of simple syrup. 

You can also use honey in place of the sugar, if you'd like. And, while I did sort of bash hot tea earlier, I must say that this simple syrup is killer in a mug of green tea. Or in iced tea. Or in any drink at all, really. Or in a dirty old shoe. Or slurped from an upside-down Lego. (And, ahem, you wonder how I got sick in the first place.) Anyway, bottom line is, you can't go wrong. It's magic.

We're Getting Ready

So, you know how Thanksgiving is coming up?

And, if you're one of the -- ahem -- lucky ducks out there who gets the privilege of cooking an excessively large meal for everyone you love, then you might have started making a list or two. You might be building a menu and a grocery list and now you're just waiting patiently for me to suggest the perfect thing to have as a hors d'oeuvre. If that is the case, then you are in luck! Here you go. You're welcome! (And even if you aren't even lifting a finger on Thanksgiving except to pop the tabs on a dozen PBRs, then you've now got access to the most seasonal dip on the block. You know, you could really impress the cook if you brought this along to Thanksgiving. I'm just saying.)

Bottom line, pumpkin hummus is here, my November friends. It's brilliant, really. The pumpkin's smoothness translates so well to hummus, since silkiness is, in my opinion, the most important feature of a really great hummus. The true magic, though? It's so incredibly easy you could do it in your sleep. So, you know, just get out these ingredients, close your eyes, and turn on the sharpest blade in the kitchen. Because, like deep-frying our turkeys indoors with little to no ventilation, that's how we do the holidays around here. On the edge, and with a very deep sense of delicious adventure. This is America, after all.

Pumpkin Hummus

1 can pumpkin
2 or 3 T tahini
1-2 t ground cumin
1/8 C olive oil
3 garlic cloves, chopped
juice from 1/2 lemon
salt and pepper to taste
cayenne pepper to taste
nutmeg, cinnamon, allspice (optional)
pumpkin seeds (pepitas)

Combine all ingredients in a food processor. Taste and adjust accordingly!

Notes:
If it's too thick, add a bit more olive oil. If you want it spicier, add more cayenne or red pepper flakes. Also, different folks have different limitations on tahini and cumin, so use the amounts that taste best to you. I love this hummus without the nutmeg, cinnamon, and allspice, so try it without those things first to see what you think. Add pepitas to the top for serving.

This hummus is so versatile, just like regular old hummus. Apply to sandwiches, or just use with vegetables, apples, crackers, or chips. Vrooooom! Thanksgiving is here!

The Antidote

You're over-sugared. I know it. 

A month of pre-Halloween treats, a week of super-intense pre-Halloween treats, and then Halloween itself. Oh, sugar day! I think the rule is: if it's not at least 90% sugar, then you are not allowed to eat it on Halloween. But now today is here, and it is November, and candy is just not as cool as it was yesterday. We're finally allowed to eat things that are NOT made out of sugar, and I am feeling pretty relieved. Vegetables, hang on! I'm coming for you!

For months, I've been meaning to talk to you about how dreadfully sick I've gotten of hearing about kale. Kale this! Kale that! It's so good for you! Eat it every day and you'll never die! Put it in everything! Eat it for every meal! Eat kale or you'll just start rotting away into a nutrition-deprived death-state! I've gotten so tired of being told to eat kale. I was so frustrated, in fact, that I gave up on it. I determined that I really wasn't thrilled with any sort of cooked kale, and I'm now kind of out on the whole kale-chip craze, and, well, I refuse to disguise kale as something else. That said, I do love kale. A lot. Obsessively. I shall now explain!

If you can possibly believe it, the way I learned to love kale was by eating it raw. This sounds a little backwards, I suppose, since kale is at its toughest and least friendly when it's raw, but somehow the rough texture and bitter, grassy flavor really does it for me. Plus, I feel like a dinosaur, chomping on the coarse, wild greens I have just foraged. And we all need to feel a little more like the dinosaurs. (Side note: one of my students today, age 3, explained that he had been a dinosaur for Halloween. Oh, I say, Cool! What kind of dinosaur? He had no idea and was relieved to say YES when I asked, Were you just a regular dinosaur? He then gushed forth about his love for dinosaurs, tripping over his tongue with excitement. I just, I just, I just, I just LOVE dinosaurs! I just love them so much. I love them, I love them, I love them A HUNDRED.)

So, all of this is appropriate considering that the very best kind of kale to use in a salad is lacinato kale, commonly referred to as dinosaur kale, due to its bumpy dark greenness. Curly kale works, but it's just not my favorite for salad. Either way, I feel like lettuce and spinach just need to take seat and relax for awhile, because I just don't need them right now. Get out, other green stuff! I have kale!

Before you embark, I would like to outline what I believe to be the five tenets of kale usage in salad:

1. Wash and dry really well. Use a salad spinner!

2. Remove ribs and any super-thick veins (eww, this is starting to sound gross).

3. Cut leaves in half lengthwise and then into half-inch wide strips.

4. Always toss with the dressing. Never serve it on the side or you will choke from leaf stiffness.

5. Don't toss the salad with utensils! Use your hands to work the dressing into the leaves.

Now then. Let's see about these recipes. 

In order to get ready, I would recommend getting yourself some nice red wine, a rotisserie chicken, some good bread, and perhaps some soft, lovely cheese, like a brie or such. This will be the meal that accompanies the kale salad, and you will be so happy. Both recipes serve two, so feel free to double or triple or quadruple for a crowd. Once you get more accustomed to these recipes, you may want to add some other ingredients. You'll see carrots, chicken, and croutons in my photograph above -- that was a lunch salad that ended up having the chicken in it, rather than accompanying it. Add some extra things if you want, but try not to overdo it! The simple flavors of these two salads are perfect as is, so no need to gild the lily. Or gild the kale, as it were.

Also, may I say this in reference to your squirms when you see the word "anchovies" in this first recipe? Once upon a time I thought that I didn't like anchovies, either! Well, it turns out that I was wrong. They've been given a bad name, I'm afraid, and it's just silly. Tiny fish are so important! Anchovies are amazing, and they will give this salad an incredible flavor that you can't get from anything else. Buy the anchovies. Use the anchovies. You will not be sorry.

Kale Salad #1

1 small bunch lacinato kale, ribs removed

3 anchovies, bashed into a pulp by way of mortar and pestle (or chopped and smashed using any other kitchen tool you'd like)

2-3 cloves garlic, minced

8-10 Medjool dates, finely chopped (get the pitted kind)

1/4 C olive oil

1/2 T red wine vinegar

salt and pepper

pumpkin seeds for serving

Cut kale into strips as described above. Whisk to combine anchovy pulp, garlic, dates, olive oil, vinegar, and a dash of salt and pepper. Toss kale and dressing together in a big bowl, taking time to make sure all the leaves are coated and saturated with the dressing. Top with pumpkin seeds.

Kale Salad #2

1 small bunch lacinato kale, ribs removed

juice of one lemon

1/2 C grated pecorino

2-3 cloves garlic, minced

red pepper flakes

3-5 T olive oil

salt and pepper

toasted breadcrumbs for serving

Cut kale into strips as described above. Whisk to combine lemon juice, pecorino, garlic, and olive oil,  adding salt, pepper, and red pepper flakes to taste. Toss kale with dressing in a big bowl, taking time to make sure all the leaves are coated and saturated with the dressing. Top with breadcrumbs.

Kale + you = best friends forever