Tag: vegan

Forget The Recipe

As a person who’s passionate about cooking, one of the hardest truths to accept is that not every recipe will be a clear winner. Everyone has their share of abject failures, big and small, that will obviously never be held up to the harsh, probing light of social media. If your souffle blows up in the oven, coating every surface like a layer of fresh paint, it may be funny and appropriately humbling to share, but I doubt you’d endorse that formula as if that was the desired result.

Why, then, is it so difficult to discard the merely subpar? You wouldn’t want to share the disappointment with anyone you care about, or who cares about you. Still, there’s always that nagging temptation to salvage it, to convince yourself it’s “good enough,” or that with enough caveats and qualifiers, someone else might appreciate it more than you did. Maybe it’s the sunk cost of all that time, effort, and expensive ingredients. Even though, at the end of the day, it’s just food, it still feels like a loss.

In a more concrete way, I’m talking about this spinach pesto fettuccine, with handmade pasta, no less, made and photographed over five years ago and quickly buried in the archives. I know I made it. I know I liked it well enough. Beyond that? I couldn’t tell you what made it different from any other pesto pasta I’ve thrown together over the years. I don’t have a recipe because I either lost it or never bothered to write it down in the first place. That alone says volumes. The photos aren’t much help, either. They’re perfectly serviceable, but they don’t make a compelling case for revisiting the dish. Looking back through them now, I can’t help but wonder what I thought I was trying to preserve.

Twenty years into blogging, I’m still learning to let go. Not every meal has to become a recipe, just as not every recipe has to become a favorite. Sometimes cooking is simply an excuse to spend an afternoon making pasta by hand, to use up a bunch of spinach before it wilts, or to satisfy a craving as random and urgent as the inspiration to do something about it. Some meals are meant only for the moment they’re served.

Hannah (BitterSweet)2 Comments

Shoot for the Moon

Mooncakes have long been an enigma to me. Ornate little pastries that gleam as if lit from within, their attraction is undeniable and magnetic, even for someone who didn’t grow up celebrating the Mid-Autumn Festival. Heavy with meaning and dense fillings alike, they’re the centerpiece of the whole event, one of the most important holidays celebrated throughout China and in many other East and Southeast Asian communities.

Traditionalism Meets Veganism

As a vegan, though, they seemed destined to remain behind glass. The biggest barrier to entry is that most traditional mooncakes aren’t even vegetarian. Depending on the style, the pastry may be made with lard or butter, and the most iconic varieties conceal salted egg yolks at their center, luminous as miniature harvest moons. For years, that meant I was relegated to admiring them from afar rather than partaking. Happily, compassionate bakers have made it possible to buy plant-based mooncakes direct, or create your own from scratch.

The Many Phases of a Mooncake

The lack of firsthand experience only deepened my curiosity. By the time I finally got a taste, crafted by a friend talented, patient, and generous to share such a gift, I was beside myself with wonder. Far from a single, codified pastry, mooncakes are more like an entire family of desserts, each region putting its own stamp on centuries of tradition.

  • Cantonese mooncakes are the style most familiar outside of Asia, and likely the image that springs to mind when most people hear the word. Their glossy, amber-brown crust is remarkably thin, yielding to dense, velvety fillings like lotus seed paste, red beans, black sesame, or mixed nuts.
  • Suzhou mooncakes are defined by dozens of delicate, flaky layers that shatter with each bite. Sweet and savory versions coexist happily here, with fillings ranging from adzuki bean paste to spiced pork, making them feel more like a laminated pastry.
  • Teochew mooncakes are instantly recognizable by their mesmerizing spiral crusts, created by folding alternating layers of dough until they resemble edible pinwheels. Slice one in half and the intricate pattern is almost as captivating as the filling, which often features yams, mung beans, or black sesame.
  • Beijing mooncakes are a little more rustic, with a thicker, drier pastry surrounding comparatively modest fillings. Less sugary than their southern counterparts, they’re often flavored with nuts, dried fruits, or sesame seeds.
  • Then there are snow skin mooncakes, the rebels of the bunch. Introduced in Hong Kong in the late twentieth century, they’re never baked at all. Instead, a soft, chewy shell made from glutinous rice flour encases chilled fillings, much like mochi, opening the door to flavors like mango, matcha, pandan, taro, durian, chocolate, and coffee; some are even stuffed with ice cream.

That’s only scratching the surface. Nearly every region, city, and individual bakery has its own interpretation, with family recipes passed down alongside the molds that imprint each pastry’s intricate designs. Asking someone to define the mooncake is a little like asking an American to define the pie. You’ll get a clear answer, but the answer will change depending on who you ask.

A Slice of Life

What I love most about mooncakes, aside from their flavor, is that they were never meant to be eaten alone. Mooncakes were designed to be a communal experience from the beginning. Their richness would be overwhelming for a single person, turning what should be a celebration into an exercise in excess. Instead, they’re always shared, cut into small wedges and passed around the table alongside cups of tea, as families and friends linger beneath the harvest moon. After centuries of evolving recipes, regional styles, and artistic flourishes, that’s the tradition that has endured. The pastry itself may change, but it’s that thread connecting the past, present, and future that matters most.

Hannah (BitterSweet)2 Comments

Soft Wheat Wins Hard Hearts

Of all the ancient grains I’ve written about thus far, common wheat may seem like the most pedestrian, if not altogether unfit for consideration. The thing is, there are so many different types of wheat, which is part of the reason why it’s so omnipresent, and also why its so misunderstood. Modern wheat varieties, bred after the 1960s, are a shadow of their former kernels, diminished in flavor and nutrition alike.

Now more than ever, heirloom wheat needs champions, preserving the very qualities that made it so popular in the first place. My fervor started with a bag of soft white wheat berries from Grand Teton Ancient Grains, which challenged everything I thought I knew about America’s most essential yet overlooked staple.

Separating the Wheat from the Chaff: A VERY Short History of Wheat

Wheat’s story begins roughly 10,000 years ago in the Fertile Crescent, a broad swath of land stretching through parts of modern-day Iraq, Syria, Turkey, and neighboring regions. There, early farmers gradually domesticated wild grasses into dependable crops, laying the foundation for settled agriculture and, in many ways, civilization itself. The impact of wheat on humanity as we know it cannot be overstated. Over thousands of years, wheat spread along trade routes and across continents, adapting to new climates and cultures.

Why, Where, What, Which, Wheat?

Wheat comes in many distinct forms. In the United States, six primary market classes are grown, each defined by its hardness, color, and planting season.

  • Hard Red Winter: The everyday bread wheat, used for sandwich loaves and rolls.
  • Hard Red Spring: Higher in protein, favored for artisan breads and flour blends.
  • Soft Red Winter: Lower protein wheat for cookies, crackers, pastries, and cakes.
  • Soft White: Mild, pale, low-protein wheat for pastries, cakes, and pie crusts.
  • Hard White: Higher protein wheat with a milder flavor than red wheats, often used for whole wheat breads and tortillas.
  • Durum: The hardest wheat, milled into semolina for pasta and couscous.

Let Them Eat Cake

When it comes to soft white wheat, low protein content is an asset. Protein comes in the form of gluten, which is what contributes to stretchy doughs in bread, but a tougher crumb in more delicate baked goods. Thus, soft white wheat is one of the ideal starting points for creating cake flour. Unlike the cake flour you’ll find packaged in stores, which is usually sifted to remove much of the bran and germ before being chlorinated, very finely milled soft white wheat can achieve a similarly tender texture.

To make the best DIY cake flour from soft white wheat, remove one tablespoon from every cup and replace it with one tablespoon of cornstarch. Sift several times to evenly distribute the starch.

White Wheat, Whole Nutrition

Despite the connotations that come with “white” flour, these white wheat berries are the unrefined whole grain. Thus, when milled, you create the seemingly idiosyncratic white whole wheat flour. It has the light, buoyant texture and mild flavor prized in processed, bleached flours while keeping all the nutrition of the bran and germ intact.

That nutritional difference is significant. A 100-gram serving of whole grain white wheat flour provides roughly 13 grams of protein, 11 grams of fiber, and a wide range of essential minerals, including iron, magnesium, phosphorus, zinc, and manganese. The bran layer contributes much of the fiber and antioxidant compounds, while the germ provides vitamin E, B vitamins, healthy fats, and more.

Cooking Whole Soft White Wheat Berries

Before you grind all your soft white wheat berries down into flour, you should really cook them to enjoy as is. Pleasantly chewy and subtly sweet, they’re an ideal introduction to wheat berries for the uninitiated. Unlike harder wheat varieties, which can take longer to soften, soft white wheat cooks relatively quickly and yields tender, almost creamy grains that work beautifully in both sweet and savory dishes.

  • Stovetop Method: Rinse one cup of soft white wheat berries under cool water, then drain. For the best texture, soak the berries overnight in plenty of water, though this step can be skipped if needed. Add the drained wheat berries to a pot with three cups of fresh water and a generous pinch of salt. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer, covered, for 45 – 60 minutes, until the grains are tender and pleasantly chewy. Drain any remaining liquid and let rest for a few minutes before serving.
  • Pressure Cooker Method: Rinse one cup of soft white wheat berries and combine with three cups of water and a pinch of salt in an electric pressure cooker. Cook on high pressure for 30 minutes, then quick release the pressure before opening the lid. Drain any excess liquid if needed. For a softer, more porridge-like texture, increase the cooking time to 35 – 40 minutes.

Cooked wheat berries can be refrigerated for up to five days or frozen for longer storage, making them an easy whole grain to prepare ahead of time and always keep on hand.

Milling and Baking with Soft White Wheat Flour

Grand Teton Ancient Grains recommends milling only what you need for the best results, and it’s advice I wholeheartedly agree with. Freshly milled soft white wheat flour offers a completely different experience from flour that has spent months sitting on a grocery store shelf. Once ground, the natural oils in the germ begin to oxidize, slowly diminishing flavor and nutrition, so milling only what you need delivers the fullest expression of the grain. A home grain mill can transform whole berries into a fine, fragrant flour in seconds, releasing aromas of sweet grass, nuts, and warm cereal.

Because soft white wheat is naturally low in protein, it excels in applications where tenderness is the goal. Use the finest grind to ensure the lightest, most tender baked goods. Freshly milled soft white wheat flour can generally be used in any recipe calling for all-purpose flour in equal amounts. When substituting for conventional flour, it may absorb liquid differently due to the presence of the bran and germ, so recipes may require slight adjustments.

Traditional Uses for Soft White Wheat

While soft white wheat has historically been valued not for making the strongest doughs, its greatest strength is in creating foods with exceptional tenderness, subtle flavor, and a delicate crumb. Whether used whole or milled into flour, this versatile grain has found its way into a wide range of traditional foods.

As Whole Wheat Berries:

  • Grain salads and pilafs: Cooked wheat berries add a pleasantly chewy texture and mild, nutty flavor, much like farro or other ancient grains.
  • Soups and stews: Whole wheat berries have long been simmered into hearty dishes, adding body, texture, and nourishment.
  • Porridge and gruel: Cooked wheat berries can be simmered with non-dairy milk, fruit, spices, and your favorite sweetener for a warming, cozy breakfast. Although the word “gruel” may conjure up bleak images of meager meals, the reality is far more comforting. The savory approach can be thought of as a whole grain soup, with wheat berries simmered alongside vegetables, herbs, legumes, and spices for a deeply satisfying bowl.
  • Rolled wheat flakes: Similar to rolled oats, wheat berries can be steamed and flattened into flakes for quick-cooking hot cereals, granola, muesli, and baked goods.
  • Puffed wheat: Through a process of heat and pressure, whole wheat kernels transform into airy, crisp grains used in breakfast cereals, snack mixes, and traditional sweets.
  • Sprouted grains: Fresh wheat berries can be sprouted and eaten raw in salads, sandwiches, wraps, stir fries, and more. They have a very mild flavor and soft texture, making them a great choice for sprout newbies.
  • Beer and brewing: Wheat has been used in brewing traditions for centuries. While barley remains the dominant brewing grain, wheat contributes body, softness, haze, and a distinctive grain character to styles such as wheat beers, including hefeweizen and witbier. Soft white wheat can be used by brewers seeking a lighter-colored wheat addition with a mild flavor profile.

As Flour:

  • Biscuits and scones: Soft white wheat’s low protein content creates the tender, flaky texture these baked goods depend on.
  • Cakes and pastries: Its fine texture and mild flavor make it ideal for delicate cakes, cookies, pie crusts, and other desserts.
  • Crackers: Soft wheat flour creates crisp, light crackers without the toughness that can develop from stronger bread flours.
  • Pancakes and waffles: Minimal gluten development ensures a lighter, softer texture.

Soft Spot for Soft Wheat

The qualities that make soft white wheat exceptional are the very ones that make Japanese soufflé pancakes so captivating. For years, I’ve dreamed of making my own lofty stack of these cloud-like confections, watching from afar as the impossibly tall rounds wobble with every movement of the plate. Although traditional Japanese soufflé pancakes are typically made with cake flour, finely milled soft white wheat proved to be the missing ingredient I needed all along. That, and English muffin rings.

Unlike the flat, compact silver dollar pancakes of my youth, Japanese soufflé pancakes are what you get when you cook a classic whipped French custard on a griddle. Their signature height comes from whipped aquafaba folded into the batter, creating an impossibly airy structure that can be measured in inches. Magnificent, show-stopping, and a damned near heroic labor of love, there’s a reason why vegan versions are incredibly rare. They are not quick and easy. They are not beginner pancakes.

Tips for Success

Do not pass go, do not collect $200, do NOT miss a single detail! Please read through the recipe carefully or you’re asking for disaster. Absolutely critical details that even I would probably overlook include:

  1. Sift your flour. Even if you’re using a commercially milled flour, it’s important to keep it light and free of clumps. For home milled flour, there will be more irregularities and large particles that need to be removed.
  2. Cook low and slow. Do not rush the process. There’s a lot of batter to cook and only a single source of heat at a time to cook it all the way though.
  3. Do not flip. I know, it’s heresy to not flip a pan cake! But in this case, they will flop. They’re too delicate to move until they’re done.

Bumper Crop of Inspiration

Soft white wheat flies under the radar, in conversations about ancient grains, eclipsed by the superfood du jour, despite being responsible for many of our most beloved pastries and desserts. Thanks to growers like Grand Teton Ancient Grains, this distinctive class of America’s favorite grain continues to thrive, preserving flavors, traditions, and agricultural diversity that might otherwise have been lost. For a grain that’s spent millennia feeding civilizations, I’d say it’s long overdue for a comeback.

Continue reading “Soft Wheat Wins Hard Hearts” →

Hannah (BitterSweet)7 Comments

Wordless Wednesday: Fried and Fancy Free

Bodhi Viet Vegans – Fried Wonton Cake
Bodhi Viet Vegans – Broccoli Nuggets
Yoshiko – Vegetable Tempura
The Dead Rabbit – Chips
Nori – Vegetable Tempura
Nori – Eggplant Katsu Curry
Mom’s Special Cooking – Tempura Vegetables and Shan Tofu
Community Kitchen – The Summit (fried oyster mushrooms, macaroni & cheeze, collards, seasoned fries, and cornbread)
Community Kitchen – Golden Chick’n Sliders Trio

Hannah (BitterSweet)4 Comments

Greens of Resistance

Texas is not the place to grow tender salad greens. Sure, the seeds will sprout, propelled through the soil at the barest hint of moisture and warmth, and that’s where they’ll wish they stopped. No amount of water or shade will protect the defenseless little leaves from the ambient heat, bearing down mercilessly and indiscriminately on all those below. The sun does not negotiate. It does not care how carefully the beds were prepared or how faithfully the gardener tends them. It simply arrives each morning with renewed intensity, turning cool-season dreams into compost.

Yet there are still plants that meet this punishment as a kind of blessing. Where delicate baby spinach would wilt in seconds, Malabar spinach thrives. The same heat that sends tender greens into panic coaxes this tropical vine into exuberance. Unfurling thick, succulent leaves on thick red or green stems, they would survive under the most dire conditions.

Granted, despite its name, Malabar spinach, also known as alugbati, Ceylon spinach, Indian spinach, and vine spinach, is not a true spinach at all. It belongs to an entirely different plant family and bears little resemblance to its cool-weather namesake beyond its culinary use. Native to the tropical regions of South Asia, particularly the Malabar Coast of southwestern India, the vine evolved in climates where extreme heat and humidity are par for the course. For centuries, it’s been a vital, dependable source of greens when more temperamental vegetables falter.

Thick and glossy, almost waxy to the touch, I would describe the leaves as being distinctly juicy. The flavor is mild, and while they can be eaten raw, most people prefer to cook them due to their subtly slimy texture, similar to okra. It’s exactly the inspiration, and addition, I needed to make a quick and satisfying soup, as boldly green as the whole garden, condensed into one bowl. Surrendering only to the heat of the stove, those succulent leaves blend into a velvety mixture, brightened with jalapeño, cilantro, and lemon, with a touch of cashew butter for richness. Now, this is what summer tastes like to me.

I’m not a skilled gardener and the climate is less than accommodating. Malabar spinach is one of the very few plants I can trust will feed me well, no matter what. A single plant can transform from a modest seedling into a sprawling curtain of foliage within a matter of weeks. Hope you like spinach, because there’s more where this came from.

Continue reading “Greens of Resistance” →

Hannah (BitterSweet)8 Comments