Get A Cobb On

Salads shouldn’t just be a side dish or an after thought. Down with wilted iceberg lettuce and stale croutons! I’m all about those hefty, fully loaded meal salads that have tons of color, texture, and flavor going on. The classic Cobb is a good example of that, traditionally piled high with meats, cheese, and eggs. On top of my obvious vegan conversions, I wanted to take a more seasonal approach for a new, novel Autumn Cobb Salad.

Vegan Innovations

To start with the vegan adaptations, we can replace traditional proteins with plant-based alternatives that not only complement the dish but enhance it. Instead of crispy bacon, consider using pecans seasoned with a smoky flavor to provide that quintessential crunch. Hard-boiled eggs can be swapped out for hearty, diced potatoes, seasoned with sulfurous kala namak, which lend a satisfying creaminess without sacrificing substance. For the chicken, chickpeas are an excellent choice, adding protein and a nutty flavor that ties the salad together.

Seasonal Swaps

Seasonality is the secret ingredient that can transform an ordinary salad into something truly special. In this fall feature, pomegranate arils take the place of conventional tomatoes, infusing each bite with a burst of sweetness and vibrant color. Instead of the typical scallions or chives, opt for pickled onions. Their tangy crunch elevates the flavor profile and adds depth.

When it comes to greens, we’re turning to shredded collard greens instead of the usual lettuce. This hearty green not only provides a more robust texture but also aligns perfectly with the season’s bounty. Finally, rather than dressing the salad with traditional ranch, a maple-balsamic vinaigrette introduces a balance of sweetness and acidity, capturing the essence of fall in every drop.

Timeless Staples

Even amidst these changes, there are certain staples that remain unassailable. Creamy avocado adds richness to the dish, while a sprinkle of vegan blue cheese, store-bought or homemade, provides that unmistakable funk, rounding out the flavor experience perfectly.

Salad Days Are Here Again

Salads can be so much more than an afterthought. With a little creativity and a focus on seasonal ingredients, they can take center stage as a nourishing, satisfying meal. Say goodbye to the wilted greens of the past and hello to a vibrant, fully loaded salad that you’ll want to dig into all autumn long.

Continue reading “Get A Cobb On”

Terribly Toothsome

Sitting at the dinner table, surrounded by the familiar chatter of family, it’s the start of another ordinary meal. Your plate, piled high with a vibrant green salad, glistens under the soft tungsten light. As you reach for a forkful of crisp lettuce, a sudden jolt of panic shoots through you. Your teeth feel loose, wobbling precariously inside your mouth, as the urge to clench your jaw intensifies. With a sickening crunch, like a bolt out of the blue, your front tooth snaps off, leaving a gaping hole in your fading smile.

Horror washes over you as you examine the broken tooth, its white enamel glistening on the ceramic plate. Your heart races as you realize the nightmare has only just begun. One by one, tooth after tooth tumbles down, leaving a mouthful of jagged stumps in their wake. The once-inviting salad now seems like a grotesque mockery, its vibrant colors marred with the shrapnel of ruined molars and canines.

Desperation grips you as you try to salvage the meal, but every bite is a painful reminder of your crumbling reality. The lettuce sticks to your toothless gums, the dressing drips down your chin, and the once-familiar taste of food is now a bitter, metallic sensation.

The room around you fades into darkness, replaced by a cacophony of screams and the echoing sound of your own teeth clattering to the ground. You are alone in this nightmare, trapped in a world where even the simplest act of eating is a terrifying ordeal.

For anyone wishing to recreate this delightful nightmare for their friends, these “teeth” are easily made using your favorite vegan mozzarella or provolone recipe, set in a realistic human teeth mold. Go forth and terrify.

Be Still My Bleeding Heart

Given that there are over 70 organs in the human body, each playing a vital role in health and wellness, a strikingly disproportionate amount of attention is paid to the heart. I could easily name 50 songs about hearts off the top of my head but only one about the pancreas. Don’t even get me started about the number of idioms and common heartfelt sayings.

I’ve personally been told that I have a good heart, a kind heart, and a big heart, but I can assure you, it’s completely unremarkable, no different than anyone else’s. Here, let me show you.

Eat Your Heart Out

They say that vegans can’t be cannibals but it’s all about consent for me. I’d happily offer my heart on a platter to the right person, and that’s certainly not cruel. Perhaps I show my love differently than most? At least I make my affection obvious.

Grand gestures aside, my heart really is delicious, if I do say so myself. Velvety braised red cabbage, shallot, and apple intertwine in a sweet and savory gel, firm and sliceable, perfect for serving atop a leafy salad. Whole fennel and coriander seeds add a bright, aromatic kick, of course, but also a delightfully unsettling crunch every now and then.

Bloody Good

Beets are great for reducing blood pressure, don’t you know? Perhaps that explains this blood red beet velouté running through my veins. Buttery, silky smooth, with ample umami and a surprising kick of spice, it’s rich enough to spoon up like soup. In fact, a double batch of blood with diced heart would make for a delightful hot stew.

Eat To Your Heart’s Content

Perhaps the heart looms large in our imaginations because it’s actually this delicious, and we’re all just afraid to find out. Well, here’s your chance: Indulge your darkest desires and serve yourself a hearty portion. I promise you’ll love it.

Continue reading “Be Still My Bleeding Heart”

Breaking The Mold

Would you like some moldy bean cake? It’s been fermenting in my pantry for two days! Wait, where are you going?!

Chickpea Tempeh

Tempeh, the ancient Indonesian invention that sustained countless generations, seems to fly in the face of modern food safety. Most foods enshrouded in a layer of white fuzz should go straight to the trash, but a block of tempeh sporting a similar fur coat, on the other hand, is destined for the dinner table. Though it’s been a plant-based staple long before we ever had meatless beef, this prime protein failed to take off on the mainstream market with the same enthusiasm. Whether it’s the cause or result, there remains a significant gap in widespread awareness and acceptance.

Air Fried Edamame Tempeh

Cast In The Same Mold

Mold is a type of fungi, just like mushrooms. Microscopic, multicellular, and often misunderstood, mold can be a very good thing indeed. Rhizopus oligosporus (R. oligosporus) is the beneficial fungi responsible for transforming a pile of beans into fully fermented tempeh, encasing the proteins in fluffy white mycelium. Tempeh that’s been wrapped tightly, either in banana leaves or punctured plastic bags, will have a smoother, more compressed layer of mycelium, whereas one given more open space will look genuinely furry and soft. Both are

Inoculated Chickpeas

DIY, Don’t Buy

Homemade tempeh is leaps and bounds better than anything store bought, not that there’s an abundance of choice in most grocery stores. Soybeans are the most common base, traditionally and commercially, but starting from scratch means you can use any bean you like, and beyond. I’ve had wonderful success with chickpeas and edamame especially, and I’m just getting started. All you need are tempeh cultures, dry beans, and vinegar. Cook the beans, toss with vinegar, let stand until the surface is dry to the touch, toss with cultures, and pack into plastic bags. Puncture the bags with a toothpick so the tempeh can breathe, and let it rest in a warm place (70 – 90 degrees) for up to 48 hours. That’s all it takes!

Chickpea Tempeh Noodle Bowl

Seeking Mycelium, Not Mycotoxins

Fresh, properly fermented tempeh should smell nutty, mushroom-y, earthy, and just subtly funky. It should NOT smell like ammonia, alcohol, or rotting garbage. It’s perfectly fine if there are some dark spots, but not if they’re slimy, sticky, or crumbling apart. There IS the danger that bad bacteria might find this inviting guest room you’ve carefully curated and decide to move in. Always use common sense; when in doubt, throw it out. Since tempeh is quick and cheap to make, you’re better off starting again.

Edamame Tempeh

New Tempehtations

For anyone even remotely interested in learning more about tempeh, I implore you to delve into The Book of Tempeh by William Shurtleff and Akiko Aoyagi. First published in 1979, it’s still the most complete, definitive text on the history, science, nutrition, and recipes for both creating and using tempeh. There’s so much more to it than I could ever hope to cover in a blog post, nor would I try. I’m simply hooked on the satisfaction of growing my very own mold, intentionally, to make a staple food I thought was impossible to make at home. The war against mold is over, if you want it.