Standing tall and pert in rows a dozen deep, forests of asparagus cover the tables at farmers markets as far as the eye can see. Classic harbingers of spring, their appearance signals a definitive end to winter, as though the slender green stalks had slain the seasonal demon themselves. Deep green, royal purple, ghostly white; all colors were represented on this early April day, each bundling growing more enticing, glowing more vibrantly in the rising morning sun than the last. With a heavy bag straining under the weight of this spring plunder, it would be easy to call it a day, feeling quite content with a delicious, albeit rather predictable haul. Don’t make that mistake. Delve further into the booths, interrogate the farmers if you need to, and seek out rarer treasures. For a window of about three to four weeks, green almonds may be hiding in plain sight at your local markets, amassed in humble little piles or collected in small baskets, just behind the more popular fare. Off-putting fuzzy exteriors belie a firm, crunchy texture, wholly edible and entirely delicious from the outside shell to kernel. Their short window of availability is dictated by the maturation of the almond, transforming the fresh fruit into the crunchy nut we all know and love. Leading with a pleasantly bitter taste, the overriding flavor is that of lemons and cucumbers, sometimes with a hint of tart grape in the background. Juicy yet crisp, they’re impossibly addictive when eaten with just a light pinch of salt. Sure, you could chop them up and add them to salads, use them for garnishes on chilled soups, or otherwise toss them into any raw or cooked preparation you see fit, but they’re best when allowed to shine solo. At most, go ahead and cure them in a lightly sweet and sour brine, and you’ll have the stuff of pickle plate dreams. One would never mistake them for the roasted almonds they may one day become, which is part of the appeal. You may think you know the common nuts, but catch them on the unripe side and you’ll have a whole new snacking sensation in store.
While tech geniuses and high-powered CEOs across the city shell out $9.99 per pound for limp romaine and iceberg, a veritable open bar of salad greens sits mere blocks away, completely free for the taking. I’m talking about the wild foods growing in just about every corner of San Francisco, although most people would regard them as merely weeds or even invasive pests. Foraging may sound like an implausible venture in the middle of San Francisco, and yet right there on just the outskirts of Golden Gate Park, scores of not only edible but wholly delicious plants are thriving, hidden in plain sight. Furthermore, these greens are packed with more nutrition than their pale, cultivated brethren could dream of.
I’m far from an expert and was grateful for a bit of guidance myself, so if you’re new to the concept, definitely enlist an a more seasoned forager to help identify your discoveries. It needs to be said that foraging for wild foods is not without its pitfalls, of course. Before diving deep into the urban wilds, bear in mind:
1. It’s illegal, at least in California and most parts of the US, to take anything from public property. Whether or not this is enforced is an entirely different matter, and your mileage may vary.
2. It’s poisonous, at least in some cases, due to polluted soil. The best places to find wild edibles are typically in disturbed patches of earth, which often means near highways or construction sites, which can mean that there are some unsavory things being absorbed by the plants. In parks, they may be sprayed with herbicides, so be very aware of how the areas that you forage are maintained.
3. It’s poisonous– Really. There are some cruel look-like weeds that may seem benign and taste quite delicious, but are genuinely harmful or even deadly. Know what you’re picking up before you think about touching it.
Now, don’t you all want to run out there and go foraging with me? In case I haven’t scared everyone off, just take a gander at the plunder one can take away from a mere 100-yard stroll through the outskirts of grand Golden Gate Park.
Common mallow, one of the most abundant edible weeds where I began my search and a favorite new discovery of the day, they possess thickening powers similar to okra when cooked but are incredibly delicious eaten raw as well. The immature seed pods, also known as “green cheese wheels,” are the best parts. Crunchy and refreshing, just pluck them off the stem and enjoy. The whole plant, from stem to leaf, is edible and delicious.
Cleavers have Velcro-like hairs lining their leaves which gives them a slightly prickly texture, but that is minimized when crushed, chopped, or blended. Also quite tasty both raw and cooked it’s an especially good addition in green smoothies. They’re also fun to throw at your friends because they’ll stick to your clothing.
Black nightshade sounds like something you should avoid at all costs, but is actually related to the potato. In this case, the ripe fruit is the only part that should be eaten. The leaves contain solanine, a toxin that, in great enough quantity, can cause some serious gastrointestinal distress.
Oxalis has a sour, tart flavor, which has given it the nickname of “sourgrass.” Both the flowers and leaves are edible and highly nutritious. It contains an impressive amount of vitamin c, but should be used in small amounts due to its strong taste.
Miner’s lettuce is a prime salad green, juicy and with a flavor incredibly similar to good old spinach. To preserve the patch and allow it to grow back, be careful to simply pinch or snip off the leaves, rather than pulling out the roots. For anyone new to foraging, I would highly recommend you sample these leafy greens first, as the flavor is one of the most universally agreeable of all the common edible weeds.
Chickweed is another one that you’ve likely already heard about, since the leaves are very good raw in salads and are often paired with miner’s lettuce for variety. The stalk is stringy though so it’s best saved for cooking.
Wild radishes are quite different from cultivated radishes, as the root is tough and stringy. It’s the buds and flowers that you want in this case, which contain a pungent mustard flavor. The flowers come in all colors of the rainbow, and you’ll often find many different colors altogether in the same patch.
Yarrow is more of a medicinal herb rather than a purely edible one, as it’s incredibly bitter when eaten straight. I do not recommend this at all! The flowers are more potent than the leaves but all parts can be used to brew a calming, mildly sedative tincture. It also reacts strongly with yeast and can help bread rise if you’re an avid baker. Only a little bit is needed to make a big impact.
Wild plums are likely the most abundant wild fruit growing in the bay area. These pictured above are still unripe, as they’ll be in season come mid- to late-June.
Trust me, this is just the beginning of a wild food odyssey, and absolutely anyone could harvest exactly the same haul for themselves with very little effort. I didn’t spend more than hour looking or walk beyond the well-trod trail to find all of these goodies. It pays to do your research and pick very carefully, because the culinary reward is priceless.
Before embarking on a cheese-tasting journey, one must will themselves to forget everything previously assumed about the essential experience of vegan cheese. Erase those early memories of eating yellow-colored wax back in the early 90’s, concocting funky wallpaper paste in home kitchens during fits of DIY determination, and even the reasonably melted shreds smothering dairy-free pizzas today. Even as a cheese-lover in a previous life, the flavors contained in these small, simple packages are a step up from anything I had enjoyed as a child. With or without that frame of reference, I’ll spoil the suspense right here; anyone with taste buds would be impressed by these offerings.
As mentioned briefly in part one, the whole line of Miyoko’s Kitchen cheeses are cashew-based, seasoned, inoculated, and aged in different ways to create a whole rainbow of flavors. Most wheels are firm, sliceable numbers ideal for fancy cheese platters (or midnight snacking, if your late night cravings are so decadent,) while a solid handful of spreadable options round out the savory portfolio.
Kicking this cheese party off right, I went straight for the High Aged English Sharp Farmhouse first. Posed as Miyoko’s take on the ubiquitous cheddar cheese, this is a lightly tanned, dense, and firm round of cashew goodness. Although there are certain bites that are reminiscent of nutritional yeast, the overall impact is distinctly cheddar-like, landing very close to the promised target. Pleasantly sharp indeed, a subtle vinegary, acidic aftertaste follows each taste, rounding out this nutty study in umami.
The High Sierra Rustic Alpine proved to be a more mild cheese, leading with the salty twang of white miso. Very agreeable and easily paired with just about anything, its neutral base makes it particularly nice with sweeter, fruity accompaniments. If there was ever a “dessert cheese,” this attractive option would fit the bill perfectly. When all was said and done, I came back to this flavor to find that it was the simple, basic, and straight-forward option of the full lineup.
Thoroughly encrusted in herbs, not a spare millimeter of naked rind can be seen peering out from the Country Style Herbes De Provence. Redolent of rosemary and thyme and rounded out with notes of sage, oregano, and lavender, this is one heady bouquet of earthy flavors. Every bite is slightly different thanks to the random distribution of seasonings, but each one guarantees an incredibly well-balanced blend of herbaceous, subtly floral tastes. A very sophisticated offering that speaks for itself, it may very well be best paired with nothing more than a glass of dry red wine.
One of my personal top picks and something of a sleeper hit, Fresh Loire Valley in a Fig Leaf certainly made for a stunning presentation. Wrapped in a tender fresh fig leaf, it’s sure to steal the spotlight at any party. Featuring a very fruity, floral aroma, the complex interplay between the savory, creamy cheese and fresh fig leaf is amazing, elevating vegan cheese to a whole new level. If you could only pick one option to show off to all your friends, this is the wheel that I’d pull out to impress eaters of all stripes, omnivorous or not.
Aged English Smoked Farmhouse is described as a substitute for smoked cheddar, but to my palate, it was a dead ringer for smoked Gouda, a beloved cheesy snack from my childhood. The rich, smoked aroma is the real deal; nothing like the shallow flavor of liquid smoke, the pungent savory perfume is seriously strong without being overpowering. Salty, punchy, and bold, I found it impossible to resist as simple, unadorned slices. Shamefully, I must admit that I horded this delicious umami bomb all to myself, unwilling to share even a sliver.
The Mt. Vesuvius Black Ash is a truly unique, innovative wheel that has no equal. A distinctive inky black rind, dark as night, gives way to a creamy beige interior. The taste of ash is surprisingly subtle, considering its striking appearance, lending a faintly bitter and smoky edge to this miso-flavored cheese. Definitely a conversation starter and impressive centerpiece, it’s also one of the harder slicing options to add some textural variety to a well-rounded cheese board.
Turning my attention temporarily to the softer, spreadable options, the pale reddish-orange color gives away the flavor concealed within the Double Cream Sundried Tomato Garlic at first glance. Smoky tomato flavor leaps forth immediately; assertive, with a bold acidic piquancy and subtle peppery notes, even though no pepper is listed in the ingredients. Strong enough to hold its own as a solo topping or sauce, Miyoko’s suggestion of tossing it with pasta is right on point. It needs only a vehicle for enjoyment, nothing else.
Double Cream Chive boasts a strong onion flavor, sharp and assertive, that will play second fiddle to no one. Slather a wedge onto anything, be it a cracker or a rubber tire, and it will dominate the palate. Its flavors blossom on your tongue, becoming more pungent as it warms and melts, revealing buttery, grassy notes almost as an afterthought. A soft, rich wheel with real character, it’s best paired with simple crackers to allow those distinctive flavors to to shine without competition.
Faced with such an embarrassment of riches, the only reasonable thing I could think to do with my treasure was to take it into the kitchen, creating a seriously indulgent and perfectly cheesy dish for the holidays. Brussels sprouts, already enjoying a renaissance in the food world, are made even more irresistible with the addition of Miyoko’s dangerously delicious French Style Winter Truffle Cheese. Very soft, super funky, earthy, and slightly grassy, the buttery notes make it ideal for recipe enhancement. Almost too rich to eat by itself, the truffle essence still shines after light cooking, adding that addictively savory taste to everything it touches.
Shatteringly crisp fried leeks, peppery almonds, and the sweet and sour syrup of balsamic glaze truly gild the lily here, each one used sparingly to allow the creamy gratins to shine. A dish designed for special occasions, the essence of black truffle truly takes it over the top. That said, the basic preparation is so simple that it could easily be paired down as an everyday side. I can imagine that your garden-variety vegan cream cheese could suffice in a pinch… But don’t expect the same deeply satisfying, almost overwhelmingly umami impact as the original.
SPECIAL OFFER! For a limited time, Miyoko is offering BitterSweet readers a rare discount on her unique, cheesy wares. Enter the code “Hannah2015” at checkout for $5 off your order, only until April 1st. Trust me, this deal is no joke, and you’d be crazy not to take advantage of it.
Truffled Brussels Sprouts Gratins
1/2 Cup (4 Ounces) Plain Mashed Potatoes
2 Ounces (About 1/3 of a Wheel) Miyoko’s Kitchen French Style Winter Truffle Cheese
3/4 Pound Brussels Sprouts, Blanched and Halved
1 Tablespoon Olive Oil
2 Scallions, Thinly Sliced
1 – 2 Tablespoons Fresh Parsley, Roughly Chopped
1 Tablespoon White Miso Paste
1 Tablespoon Arrowroot Powder
1 Cup Unsweetened Non-Dairy Milk
1/4 Teaspoon Freshly Ground Grains of Paradise or Black Pepper
Toppings, To Serve (Optional):
Preheat your oven to 350 degrees and lightly grease 6 small ramekins; set aside.
While still warm, mash the potatoes with the truffle cheese, mixing well so that the cheese melts in smoothly, but not so well that you create wallpaper paste (it will become progressively stickier as you stir, so take it easy!) Fold in the blanched brussels sprouts, followed by the oil, scallions, parsley, miso, and arrowroot, making sure that all of the ingredients are thoroughly incorporated. Slowly pour in the non-dairy milk while continuing to stir, and finally season to taste with grains of paradise or black pepper.
Equally distribute the mixture between your prepared ramekins and bake for 35 – 45 minutes, until lightly browned on top. They should still jiggle slightly when tapped, much like a cheesecake, as they will continue to set as they cool. Let rest for at least 15 minutes before topping with leeks, almonds, and balsamic glaze as desired and serving hot. The gratins can be made ahead of time and will keep nicely in the fridge, tightly covered and unadorned, for up to 4 days.
Makes 6 Servings
Pushed to the back of my recipe archives, this one has been a long time coming. Despite the fact that the results were well-received, immediately devoured with glee and appreciation, it didn’t seem worthy of sharing on this public platform. Why withhold this treat from others, designed for the four-legged friends among us, who truly don’t receive their fair share of culinary attention in the first place?
I was disappointed with the photos. Such a silly, shallow, and misconstrued excuse.
Now I treasure these images. There’s no “action shot” as I had envisioned, but who can argue with that trail of crumbs, the sign of a satisfied customer? That kind of approval is all I could ever hope for.
This post is dedicated to Isis.
Carrot Custard Pup Pies
No-Fuss Whole Wheat Crust:
1 Cup Whole Wheat Pastry Flour
2 Tablespoons Wheat Germ
1/4 Cup Oil
1 Teaspoon Apple Cider Vinegar
1/2 Cup 100% Carrot Juice
1/4 Cup Unsweetened Applesauce
2 Tablespoons Unsweetened Non-Dairy Milk
1 1/2 Tablespoons Powdered Kudzu Starch
Preheat your oven to 350 degrees and lightly grease a dozen mini muffin tins.
Combine the flour and wheat germ in a medium bowl before slowly drizzling in both the oil and vinegar. Mix until the dough comes together without any pockets of dry ingredients remaining. Pinch off walnut-sized balls and press them into the bottom and up the sides of your prepared muffin tins. A wooden tart tamper would be especially helpful for this task, but lightly moistened fingers will certainly get the job done all the same.
Bake the tiny crusts for 12 – 14 minutes, until dry and lightly golden brown all over. Let cool and begin to prepare the filling.
Whisk together all of the components for the carrot custard in a medium saucepan over moderate heat. Stir vigorously to break up any lumps of starch. Continue to whisk every couple of minutes, until the mixture comes to a boil. Cook for about a minute longer, until fully thickened, and turn off the heat. Divide the filling equally between the baked mini crusts and let cool completely before moving them into the fridge to set. Store in an air-tight container in the fridge for up to two weeks.
Please note: As written, these pies are intended for canine consumption only, which means there is no sugar added and they are not actually sweet. If you’d like to share them with your furry friends, add 2 – 3 tablespoons of maple syrup, to taste, in the filling.
Makes 12 Mini Pies
Soup season is in full swing, no matter what sort of winter has arrived to greet these early days of March. Whether the elements chose to blow in a gentle yet chilly breeze in the evenings or pound the earth, day and night, with torrents of frozen rain, a bowl of something warm and soothing is guaranteed to hit the spot. Even in the heat of summer, a generous ladleful of steamy, brothy sustenance is not an unwelcome sight, but that’s a tale for another time. Right now, let’s focus on the often overlooked, undervalued side kick to these endless rounds of piping hot stew: The oyster cracker. When dining out, does a single diner give those sterile, single-serving packages a second thought? Or even a third, or fourth? Much more commonly found ground into a fine gravel of crumbs at the bottom of one’s purse than happily floating atop of pool of sumptuous soup, it’s about time they were given their due.
Granted, while I hate to say it, the traditional oyster cracker simply doesn’t have much going for it. It’s the filler that takes the place of more exciting flavors, contributing only a fleeting crunch at best. The only fix for this cracker conundrum is to take matters into our own hands and start from scratch, with a sturdy foundation of spice to build from.
Inspired by everyone’s favorite Japanese junk food, wasabi peas, this wheat-based reincarnation incorporates a buttery bite into every tiny morsel, ideal for adding a bit of depth to the otherwise merely hot sensation. Besides getting a considerable boost in the flavor department, that alluring green hue can be attributed the power of frozen spinach, lending more nutritional value than mere white flour could ever hope to contain.
If it seems like a serious ordeal to go through just for some silly little oyster crackers, consider expanding your snack horizons and cutting your crackers larger. Flavorful enough to stand on their own or pair beautifully with creamy dips, the only limitations come from your cookie cutters. My tiny flowers struck me as more charming than the standard hexagon shape, but anything goes, as long as you keep an eye on them in the oven. Baking times do vary based on the desired sizes, so stay close by while they cook.
Wasabi Oyster Crackers
1 Cup Frozen Spinach, Thawed
1/3 Cup Rice Bran, Avocado, or Olive Oil
2 Tablespoons Prepared Wasabi Paste*
1 Teaspoon Nutritional Yeast
2 1/2 Cups White Whole Wheat Flour
1 Teaspoon Baking Powder
1/2 Teaspoon Salt
2 – 4 Tablespoons Water
*Beware of unwelcome ingredients! 9.5 times out of 10, you’ll find horseradish in those tubes rather than actual wasabi root, but that’s nothing to be alarmed about. What you should keep an eye out for, however, are sweeteners and animal products. Strange but true, many brands incorporate milk derivatives to extend the spicy flavor, so be vigilant!
Preheat your oven to 375 degrees and line two sheet pans with silpats or parchment paper.
Pull out your food processor and puree the thawed spinach, oil, wasabi, and nutritional yeast, blending until completely smooth. You may need to pause and scrape down the sides of the bowl with your spatula to ensure that all of the greenery is fully incorporated. Sift together the flour, baking powder, and salt before adding the dry mixture into the food processor as well. Pulse a few times to begin incorporating the flour, again scraping down the sides of the bowl as needed. Slowly drizzle in just enough water to bring everything together into a pebbly sort of dough that sticks together when pressed. Be careful not to overdo it and add too much liquid, or else it will be next to impossible to handle.
Knead the resulting dough lightly, just until it forms a fairly smooth ball. Flatten it into a disk and roll it out on a well-floured surface. Try to get it out thin as possible, much like pasta dough, for the crunchiest, crispiest crackers.
Use cookie cutters of your choice to punch out the crackers, or simply use a pizza cutter or sharp knife to slice out squares or rectangles. Aim to make them no larger than an inch, or plan to lower the temperature considerably and bake for a longer time if you’d prefer larger pieces. Transfer the shapes to your prepared baking sheets and prick them once or twice with a fork to allow the steam to vent while they bake.
For crackers about an inch wide, bake for 15 – 20 minutes, although your mileage may vary. Thinner crackers and those closer to the edge of your baking sheets will cook faster. Pull crackers out once golden, and return any to the oven that are still soft. Crackers will crisp a bit more during cooling, but should be dry when removed.
Let cool completely and store in an air-tight container.
Oh sure, easy for you to say.
In lieu of a television, the quiet hum of online weather reports has begun to serve as a neutral white noise at times, filling the void of late nights when no other voices are available to keep me company. Focused on the east coast’s snowy predicament more often than not, it seems that the whole country would be talking about my hometown even if the radio’s dial had been set on frequencies emanating from thousands of miles in any direction. Most of the information goes straight through my consciousness, filtered out as just comforting, human sounds, but every now and then particular words stick in my consciousness.
Blizzards… Black ice… Power failures…
So isn’t it easy for me to implore the folks suffering out there to just “shake it off,” offering up a tropical smoothie with an insensitive veneer of enthusiasm? How could I, the traitor who skipped bail and fled my sentencing for a winter in balmy California, have anything constructive to add to this seasonal tale of misery and woe?
And yet, I can’t keep my mouth shut, or more accurately, my fingers still as they glide across the beguiling keyboard. As much as the native New Englander in me would love to grouse about the terrible and relentless snow storms with the rest of my family, I’m much more grateful that those crushing winter phenomenon are no longer a part of my personal experience. Instead, I have sunshine, relative warmth, and yes, an incredible bounty of local produce that manages to grow even now in mid February; an unheard of miracle for someone who would expect two feet of sludge to line the garden beds right about now.
What a luxury it is to have a nearby farmers market boasting an ample selection of my very favorite food in the entire world: Cherimoya. Most people scratch their heads when the fruit is mentioned, and I hesitate to bring it more attention for fear of limiting my own selfish hoard of the fruits. A pricy treat to be sure, it’s hard to justify doing anything with the creamy, custard-like flesh other than dig in with a spoon once it’s ripe. Every now and then, however, one might venture into the land of overripe, at which point the only the one can do is blend it up and drink it down instead. That’s where the idea to create a tropical shake came from, playing off the classic umbrella drink, the lava flow.
Fiery red rivulets of strawberry “lava” flow throughout the classic coconut-pineapple rendition of this refreshing island staple, finished with a kiss of light rum. The sweet, creamy richness of cherimoya transforms the drink into an exotic new experience, which is just as luscious with or without the booze.
So this is how I’m shaking off winter. I’m well aware that not everyone is, or can, but for those with the ability to greet winter under brighter skies, I would implore you to relish every last sip of it.
Cherimoya Lava Flow
Strawberry Lava Sauce:
1 Cup Strawberries, Fresh or Frozen and Thawed
2 Tablespoons Coconut Sugar or Light Brown Sugar, Firmly Packed
2 Tablespoons Lime Juice
Creamy Cherimoya Cocktail:
1 Medium Cherimoya*
1 Cup Diced Fresh Pineapple
1 Cup Full-Fat Coconut Milk
1/4 – 1/2 Cup Light Rum**
*In lieu of fresh cherimoya, substitute either 1 medium banana or approximately 2/3 cup of young coconut meat for a different yet still delicious taste.
**For a non-alcoholic version, substitute an equal amount of pineapple juice.
Prepare the strawberry sauce first by combining the strawberries, sugar, and lime juice in a small saucepan over low heat. Cook gently for about 10 minutes, just until the berries have softened and the sugar dissolved. Transfer to your blender and thoroughly puree so that no chunks of fruit remain. Strain out the seeds if desired and set aside.
Rinse and dry your blender before returning it to its base. Slice the cherimoya in half and use a spoon to scoop out the soft white flesh, discarding the black seeds as you encounter them. Pop the cherimoya fruit into your blender, along with the pineapple, coconut milk, and 1/4 cup of rum. Blend on high speed until completely smooth. Add more rum to taste, depending on your preference.
Divide the cocktail base between two glasses and drizzle the strawberry “lava” into each one, aiming for the sides of the glass to create the greatest visual impact. Serve with a tall straw and an additional wedge of fresh pineapple for extra flare.
Makes 2 Servings
A hallowed date with many names, there is all but one antiquated nickname that I can fully endorse, even as a nonsecular participant. Sorry, but the title of “Fat Tuesday” no longer fits the bill for modern times, especially when the moniker of “Pancake Tuesday” can be readily swapped in for a far more appealing and accurate label. Born of religious traditions that involve gorging oneself before the leaner days of lent, the celebratory aspect is the only piece I’m interested in, quite frankly. That’s to say nothing of how the so-called fat pancakes of yore bear little resemblance to the eggless, dairy-free flapjacks that grace my skillet today, which could run circles around those early butter-laden diet bombs. It’s no wonder that revelers would feel compelled to repent after such a gut-busting day of indulgence.
It’s time to leave those feelings of guilt and regret in the past. Pancakes are the star of the day and deserve to shine with fresh flavors, just like this punchy little short stack right here. Fluffy, lightly sweetened pillows that are no pushovers, equal parts flour and cornmeal contribute a heartier texture in addition to a subtly savory cornbread flavor. Juicy raspberries and crisp jalapenos dot the surface of each disk, making every bite both sweet and spicy. Although you could certainly cut one or the other out of the picture to simplify, especially if catering to a strong sweet tooth or salt tooth, the combination is positively invigorating, no matter what time of day you prefer to celebrate your pancakes.
Raspberry-Jalapeno Cornbread Pancakes
2/3 Cup All-Purpose Flour
2/3 Cup Finely Ground Yellow Cornmeal
1/4 Cup Granulated Sugar
1 Teaspoon Baking Powder
1 Teaspoon Baking Soda
1/4 Teaspoon Salt
3 Tablespoons Olive Oil
2/3 Cup Plain Non-Dairy Milk
1/2 Teaspoon Apple Cider Vinegar
1/2 Cup Fresh or Frozen and Thawed* Raspberries
1 Fresh Jalapeno, Seeded and Finely Diced
Additional Fresh Raspberries and Maple Syrup to Serve (Optional)
*If using frozen and thawed raspberries, just bear in mind that your pancakes will take on more of a pink hue overall, due to the excess juices. Try to drain the berries as best you can to mitigate the effects.
In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, cornmeal, sugar, baking powder and soda, and salt, mixing thoroughly to both aerate and combine the ingredients. Separately, mix the oil, non-dairy milk, and vinegar before adding all of the liquids into the bowl of dry goods. Introduce the berries and jalapeno at the same time, stirring with a wide spatula to incorporate everything into the batter. It’s perfectly fine to leave a few lumps remaining, as it’s much better than running the risk of over-mixing and creating tough pancakes.
Heat a large non-stick skillet over medium heat and very lightly grease the bottom. When hot, spoon about 1/4 cup of batter into the pan for each pancake, leaving a good amount of space in between so that there’s ample room for flipping. Lightly smooth out the tops to further round the shapes and even out any central peaks. Cook until bubbles appear all over the surface and the underside is golden brown. Flip with a spatula, and cook until equally browned on the other side.
Serve hot, topped with fresh berries and/or syrup if desired.
Makes About 4 Servings