This is my second time participating in Food Network Friday (FNF), a cookalong event where participants veganise a chosen Food Network recipe. This month I got to choose the recipe (responsibility, OMG!), a stuffed shells dish by Emeril Lagasse, and it did not disappoint. Hint: this is a good dish to trick eggplant haters into consuming what’s actually one of the best vegetables on the planet (fact-don’t argue). If, however, you’re one of those people who in spite of all reason opposes aubergine, I’m pretty confident you could use courgette (zucchini) or pumpkin/squash in its place.

Believe it or not I escaped the entire preparation unscathed. I wasn’t even wearing an apron and I walked away in moderate tidyness. I didn’t get a single drop of the lemon juice in my eye (which, odd as it may sound, might be a first as citrus appears to have an extreme affinity for my eyes).

Recipe Notes

I halved the recipe and took note of my changes and replacements this FNF, so I’m happy to provide my notes. If you have access to such a thing, use a crumbly sausage substitute. Otherwise dice the sausage up into tiny pieces so you don’t later fight to mash it all into the shells.

I roasted my eggplant first (ridiculously hot oven, stab the aubergine a few times, pop it in for 20-30 minutes, cool, remove flesh, chop), so that aspect of the filling was more of a mash. I toyed with adding some liquid smoke (it goes so well with eggplant), but decided in the end to follow the recipe more accurately.

Last but not least, I cut the cream down immensely. The original recipe called for three cups, but I couldn’t bring myself to add that much (even having halved the recipe), and it worked fine with just the 1/3 cup I opted for. Besides, tomatoes are in season here right now and don’t need any help boosting their awesomeness!

I’m going to share two very important facts relating to Britain: Latin ingredients aren’t always easy to find (and only in recent years have I found semi reliable sources), and the locals begin to empathise with residents of Siberia when there’s a fraction of a millimetre of snow on the ground. At least they think they can.

But this time we actually got more than that- a good 12-16 inches I’d say (of snow, that is). You’d think this would mean public mayhem given my previous analogy, but it’s in fact the opposite; everything comes to a quite literal standstill. Cars remain stationary, trains stop running, planes don’t fly, and people just stare quietly and eerily out of their windows (whilst I apparently stare inappropriately in).

In a way it’s nice to have something that forces us to stop already, chill out, be forced to just sit down and do diddly, but more than that it’s the sort of event that evokes a determined craving for hot comfort stews. More to the point, it’s an excuse to binge on big pots of yum. And dumplings! Who the heck makes a stew without dumplings?

Recipe Notes

Traditional flour dumplings would work fine here, but there’s something about black beans that screams latina! That and I found a big ol’ bag of masa and I don’t want to cause Paul to OD on tortillas. Plus he’s quite possibly the biggest fan of dumplings ever (imagine, upon their mention, glazed over look in eyes, goofy smile, memories of yesteryear).

Naturally I made a huge mistake, that being such a small quantity of dumplings, so feel free to double that part of the recipe. If you use a sauté pan or good enough sized frying pan, you’ll fit them all in there no problem!

Also consider, as mentioned in the recipe below, how moist and gooey you want your dumplings. I like mine to be fairly dry, but if you like a slightly more mushy dumpling then increase the fat and/or liquid content a little bit. Keep in mind, however, that masa dumplings won’t ever have exactly the same spongy texture as their all flour equivalent.

I was last in Vietnam three years ago, but every time I’ve visited this wonderful country the tofu is something that stands out above almost all else (the incessant “madam? madam! madam?!” beating it by a fine margin).

It was only after that last Vietnamese jaunt that I investigated some of the local dishes I loved (ahem) and, more than anything, that makes me realise how recent my interest in food as a serious hobby is. My love affair with South-east Asian cuisine has only grown in intensity since, and as I’m sticking to the theme for MoFo, I thought this would be another recipe worth sharing.

Recipe Notes

This recipe is a fusion of Vietnamese tofu with tomato sauce and another tofu dish (found on most in-country menus) that consists of chili and lemongrass stuffed deep fried bean curd. I think it’s a delightful combination with bold, rich flavours, but mostly I just like to play with string.

Oh, about the string. In case you haven’t noticed (did you see the title of my blog? The messy part didn’t come out of nowhere), I have a kitchen neatness deficiency; keeping things tidy, in order, together, not haphazardly occuring, you get the picture. Well apparently that’s just not my thing. It doesn’t matter if it’s in a pan, because it’s just as likely to end up on the wall behind me (quite probably the one in the next room). Binding the tofu keeps the stuffing in order, mainly the sauce and the tofu as two seperate but partnered items in a dish.

I encourage even the anti chili-ites among you to try adding at least just a tiny bit of red chili to the sauce here. It’s very complementary to the flavours (as in most SE Asian cooking, moreso than in any other in my opinion), and is a good place to start in building up a tolerance.

Last, but not least, substitute brown sugar if you don’t have palm. But I admonish you to add this, the diamond of sugars, to your cupboard stores. It’s better for you than regular sugar and the taste just can’t be beat.

My partner hates tomatoes, despite my argument that they’re different in the summer. I go on about it a lot, I know, but I always hated them too. I mean hated them with a passion unless they were boiled and blended into a smooth sauce. It was Britain that changed my attitude. While I still don’t love them raw as much as I’d love to love a raw tomato, one of the greatest culinary treats to me has become lightly roasted baby plum toms.

Crap, I had a point to all of this.

I was never a fan of broad beans until recent years. Known as fava beans in the US, I don’t remember ever knowingly consuming one (though I can’t quite believe I’d never had them before). Anyhow, I’d certainly never consumed a fresh broad bean. Here in the UK they’re all over the greengrocers’ shelves right now, and I’m learning to enjoy them in a multitude of ways: fried, boiled, and only ever with mild flavours to accompany this bean.

Oh, the point: my partner the tomato hater thoroughly enjoyed this pasta salad so, you know, you should give a try too if you self-label as anti-tomato.

Recipe Notes

As with many of my recipes, there’s room here for more or less of most ingredients. Love the tomatoes? Throw some more in the oven! Can’t get enough of the sweet basil taste? Chuck in another tablespoon. I’m sure this would also be good with some lightly roasted nuts (like cashews or smoked almonds)!

I mentioned in the directions you could pound the garlic, oil, and lemon juice with a pestle and mortar for a more raw garlic taste, but I’d be weary of serving this to any guests you don’t know well unless you leave it overnight to chill in strength a bit. Raw garlic can be quite overpowering!

There is nothing better than a British tomato in season. That is, until I consume the next batch of national seasonal illustriousness, in which case that will likely be the best thing ever. What can I say? I’m fickle.

Have I mentioned 10,001 times yet how much I love this time of year for seasonal produce?

But there’s one unfortunate aspect of life in the UK (and I mean aside from that harebrained pile of nonsense that is the study guide to becoming a UK citizen), and that’s the distinct lack of one of my other favourite provisions: the velvety avocado. Oh you can get them here, sure, but to find the perfectly ripened fruit is rare. I’ll stand in the produce aisles poking and prodding each specimen of each variety, closely inspecting the stem, often leaving empty handed. Every once in awhile, however, I’ll find a gem.

A sweet and tangy tomato pairs well with the lovely avocado, so give this puff pastry tart a try! It’s certainly the right time of year to be enjoying this sort of thing, even if the weather has been crap. Just throw a salad alongside and call it summer. That’ll make it so, right?

Nothing beats the nutty, creamy taste of a ripe avocado, and this oven baked avocado recipe really shows off the characteristics of the decadent fruit. The avocado is baked lightly and served warm with a tangy tomato sauce and sweet cashew coulis, the entire stack resting on a bed of lightly fried vegetables.

This baked avocado recipe was inspired by one served at London’s 222 Veggie Vegan restaurant. Similar but not quite the same, I promise this avocado recipe won’t disappoint.

If you’re a bit weary of baking avocado, just go ahead and give it a try. It sounds odd, but the only difference is the fruit is a) warmer and b) creamier. The former adjective, I realise, would appear to be a given seeing as this is a baked avocado recipe, but sometimes common sense comes at a premium. I may be talking about myself.

Layering the avostack

Avostack. What an excellent word.

Look, you’re not going to screw up how it tastes so long as you have the four basic components: the tomato sauce, the baked avocado slices, the fried vegetables, and the cream sauce. Still, think of it in terms of two basic chunks of layering. First the fried julienned vegetables go down with a bit of yoghurt sauce and basil.

After that you simply want to layer the avocado slices with tomato sauce and top with a bit of both sauces and the remaining basil. Really, I promise, this baked avocado recipe looks a whole lot fancier than it actually is to put together.

Some days I wake up, look out the window, and know before I even set foot out of the bedroom it’s going to be one of those kind of days. Those kind. You know exactly what I mean.

What inevitably follows is a morning of attempted work, one which can be more appropriately summarised as moping. By the time lunch rolls around I give up; all the desire in the world won’t make this British winter metamorphose into a Thai autumn. The best I can do at this point is scoff something warming, something comforting. From then on in my day I can look forward to an afternoon which will, at the very least, progress from the aforementioned mope-fest into slightly more upbeat brooding.

Sike. I’m a happy bunny after I eat awesomeness.

Recipe Notes

What can I say about this? It’s ridiculous easy and tantalisingly good (well I think so anyway). If you’re making this in the summer and are using succulent in-season tomatoes, you could perhaps get away with losing the sugar (especially if using a Roma-esque variety).

This is perfect with or without pasta. Without pasta it’s a nice snack; with it’s a filling meal.

Chili is just one of those foods which is, you know, well it’s just one of those foods. It’s always there, in the back of my mind, waiting for the weather to change or for leftovers to need using. It’s a meal I don’t exactly crave, yet it needs to be had on a somewhat regular basis during the cooler months. Everyone has their own recipe and no one (save my mother in law) is opposed to a steaming bowl of chili. It’s delicious fresh and only gets better over time.

So it’s my turn to share my own version, my own secret ingredients to make the perfect chili to soothe you on those cold winter nights.

It helps that it’s also ridiculously easy to make.

Recipe Notes

Regarding my use of espresso and chocolate, note that the measurements are vague. You could add up to a tablespoon of espresso and up to the same of cocoa, though I would advise not getting too liberal. Also know that when I say espresso I mean a finely ground dark roast coffee, so anything from a Turkish to espresso grind will be appropriate.

If you’re using fresh tomatoes, something I rarely use in chili because tomatoes aren’t in season during the months in which I enjoy this dish, you could might get away with omitting the sugar.

Chili is a dish which, no matter who’s cooking it, how many times they’ve made it, and how confident a cook they are, should be tasted constantly throughout the cooking process. This opinion stems from more than an excuse to snack before dinner hits the table; a good chili holds a bold and robust flavour and a pinch of chili or a dash more salt can make or break a good turn out. That’s what I think anyway. Experiment until you find your own perfect spice blend!

I went crazy at Wing Yip a few weeks ago, and completely forgot until now that I’d picked up a packet of abura age, a Japanese method of deep frying tofu to create puffy pouches of yumminess. In my recent vegan attempts, I’ve also gone a bit crazy purchasing mock cheese products, and as a result have quite possibly paid the wages of the entire Cheezly company in the weeks since.

Recipe Notes

Age is not particularly difficult to make, and I have done so in the past (it’s been years), but it’s very cheap and easy to obtain at an Oriental-Asian supermarket. Look for it in rectangular form for this recipe. If you want to make your own, then search the Googlenets and you’ll find plenty of advice on the subject.

The sauce combination is one I’ve played around with as a base for curry sauces. The combination of garlic, chili, coriander, turmeric, salt, sugar, and tomato has a lovely summer vibe and a refreshing flavour which isn’t too far beyond that of your standard quality tomato-based sauce. My choice for using it over another sauce in this recipe is because I wanted it to be the prominent flavour, with the cheese as an undertone. You can then guess I didn’t add a great deal of the latter, but that was my choice; feel free to stuff these suckers full to bursting point with your own favourite sauce and vegan cheese!

I’ve tried this with a selection of different Cheezly cheeses, with my preference being the Greek Style chunks sliced up.

The portion I made is tiny, a snack sized portion, but could easily be expanded to make an excellent addition to any hors d’oeuvre platter. These would also make awesome vegan picnic treats!

Oh, and what you see in the picture alongside are mild wasabi cashews.

Quinoa is seriously under-valued by so many, and it’s a real shame because it’s a truly divine grain. Fortunately it’s seen for its value in its land of origin, the South American Andes region, where it has been cultivated for some 6,000 years.

Technically a seed rather than a grain, this star food is one of the most complete proteins out there, containing all the amino acids about which those uneducated doctors-cum-[wannabe] nutritionists chide veggies (I’ve been vegetarian for 17 years and I’m still waiting to be hospitalised for malnutrition, as promised by so many).

Recipe Notes

In my pictures you’ll notice I used this recipe as a stuffing for baked peppers. While this was good I suggest using this as a side dish instead. The reason lies with the dill, a mild herb with a flavour easily lost with too much heat. If you intend to oven-bake this quinoa recipe then I suggest serving it with some fresh dill after the baking process is complete.

Why Arabic inspired? The Arabic world’s contribution to the food fusion scene is one which has offered uncomplicated yet inspired results. One reason I adore this region’s food is because its cuisine uses simplicity and general know-how to engineer heaven on a plate. Combine this with a little creativity and your imagination can stretch the basics for miles and miles. For instance pine nuts, dill, and Middle Eastern spices combined with a seed of the gods, an Incan grain fit for kings.

As with many (most?) of my recipes, the ingredient quantities can take some guesswork in measurements, and most certainly have room for experimentation.

Perfect to serve with some new potatoes doused in olive oil or butter, this quinoa is also filling on its own (though you may want to increase the recipe a bit).

I know my last recipe was also soup, so apologies for the repetition. I cannot hide my love for this simple yet filling and wholesome method of eating veggies. There are so many possibilities, and crafting soup recipes is an all star method for learning herb and spice pairings. Plus home made soups are a great way to be made aware of how crazily salty commercial and even some restaurant preparations can be.

I am an avid fan of dill, a herb that I think is quite under-rated in that it seems almost exclusively paired with fish in the eyes of many. An old-fashioned idea at best I think, for dill is quite versatile if you are willing to experiment (try it in a dish heavily influenced by ginger).

Recipe Notes

People argue about the inclusion of sugar in tomato-based sauces and dishes, many claiming it’s a useless waste and others swearing by its ability to enhance the tomato flavour. Me? I’m somewhere in the middle and I believe the use of sugar (or in this case agave nectar) has to be considered with each tomato. If they are overly acidic from a tin, the sugar really helps to balance the flavour, and a pinch goes a long way to enhance what should already be a naturally sweet fruit. Finding the perfect balance of salt and sugar will make for a glorious sauce.

I used beer in the recipe because I like the deep yeasty flavour (my excuse for “it was right next to the hob so I figured I’d bung it in”), but a white wine or a low-salt vegetable stock would also suffice.

The use of herbs is something, in my opinion, with which a cook can always play around. I’ve used basil, oregano, and marjoram in the recipe, but any mix of italian herbs would I’m sure produce an acceptable end result.

Note in the recipe I added the dill both in the blending process and before serving. This is because the flavour of dill has a habit of being quickly lost in heat (unless used in larger quantities), so it’s important to add it close to the end so the flavour remains present.

The cream I used was Alpro single cream, but any will do. This isn’t a necessary ingredient, but makes for a smoother soup on the table.

Aubergine is an incredibly under-rated vegetable. Ridiculously so, in my opinion! I have mentioned before how it took time for me to love it beyond its use one or two well known dishes, but now I proudly call it one of my favourite vegetables.

This is a suprisingly versatile vegetable once you develop a positive relationship with it, but I had not yet used it in soup. Why not?! Exactly. Why not? No better time than the present to try, right?

A thick and rich soup, deep in flavour, this aubergine based soup is sure to convert a few people to the purple side. Give it a try because it’s nothing like what you’d expect! The subtle smoked flavour combined with juicy acidic tomatoes and tangy pomegranate molasses is a combination to make my mouth water simply thinking about it.

Recipe Notes

First and foremost, quantity is really just a suggestion with this recipe. If you have a little less aubergine/eggplant, that’s okay too. No yogurt? It doesn’t have to have that. The pomegranate molasses, however, is a worthwhile purchase; you will find yourself using it frequently after you try it once!

Fresh tomatoes are of course an option, but in the off season I opt for something in a tin. Fresh tomatoes which aren’t local, full of in-season juicy goodness, well they’re just crap. Most stuff in the UK right now is imported from Holland and can be likened to a crusty sponge with a mild tomato flavour. If, however, you find yourself with some tomato gems I’ll bet roasting them before adding to the soup would create a divine result…

If you have a flame thrower (okay, a gas stove or Crème Brûlée torch) you can roast your aubergine by charring them with flame. Alternatively they can be charred under a hot grill (for a really smoky flavour). David Lebovitz uses a combination of methods in his baba ganoush recipe, one which sounds like it would provide a great taste. If the oven is your only method and the end result isn’t smoky enough, consider adding a few drops of liquid smoke to the soup during the blending process.

Ratatouille, aside from being a pain in the arse to type, is one of my favourite comfort foods. I have a series of different methods for cooking this French inspired dish, depending on how I’m feeling and what flavours I’m craving. Regardless of the method, this dish includes some of my favourite vegetables… and since I’m a fan of roasted tomatoes, a roasted version is particularly appealing.

A stew of sorts, generally containing aubergine (eggplant), courgette (zuchinni), peppers, onion, and garlic, the “proper” method of ratatouille preparation is often debated. My view? Cook stuff and make it taste good. Who cares how you reach the end result, so long as the end result doesn’t burn holes through your intestinal tract?

Anyway, that’s why you have someone else taste your experiments first.

Recipe Notes

This particular incarnation of my oven roasted version of ratatouille failed to include garlic. More to the point, garlic failed to appear in my kitchen in order to be included. It is a rare event indeed when the garlic is out. Alas, I managed to found a single clove and cooked it in some oil to put on the pasta before serving with the veggies. Normally I would roast a whole head or two with this.

Speaking of which, a good way to serve this is with pasta, but it can of course be eaten on its own as well. Keep in mind this is enough for a couple of very hungry individuals if you also include pasta.

I roasted this at a fairly low temperature for a fairly long time. Feel free to experiment with those times. Perhaps turn up the heat and reduce the time. Maybe you prefer some burnt aspects to your veg (hey, don’t laugh- I love burnt aubergine). If you reduce the time, it might be an idea to also reduce the size of your vegetable pieces before popping in the oven.

I have no excuse for how long it’s been since I’ve posted a new recipe. I have no excuse for how long it’s been since I’ve developed many new goodies. Okay, I have a little excuse and that’s to do with a combination of the election and Christmas. As some of you know, despite living in the UK, I am an American ex-pat and the election is/was important to me on a number of levels. Primarily I wanted to see my guy win for all sorts of reasons, but I also deal with a lot of election-related merchandise and my energy just had to be focused on that all month. The story with Christmas is similar; as with anything in retail December is a very important month so I needed to be prepared. Unfortunately this site has been neglected as a result of those factors.

I can assure you I will have plenty of other excuses later on, like how miserable and depressing it is that the sun starts going down at 3:30pm and how terrible the light is for photography once the natural light has dipped away. And that I haven’t seen a proper summer in Britain for nearly three years. On the plus side I am hoping to buy a better camera soon! The bottom line is I need some inspiration right now and good tools always help (and would have been handy shooting the roasted tomatoes – my current camera sucks fruitcake).

On to the hummus

Back to business, I have to say I have always claimed to hate tomatoes. This doesn’t count for the cooked variety but rather for anything that’s less than pulverised and heated beyond the consistency and flavour of the original raw thing. This is a viewpoint that changed marginally when I discovered roasted tomatoes, and I highly suggest to anyone who hates tomatoes to give this method a go because it will give you a whole new perspective (at least it did for me).

My local supermarket had about 76,152 kilos of tomatoes discounted one evening so I of course purchased them all. Part of them went into this recipe (because I also had 82,137 chickpeas). The rest just went straight into my belly.

The flavour, in my opinion, is best within just a few hours of preparation, but it will last for quite awhile in the fridge. It’s awesome on sandwiches with a little basil added and of course makes a fabulous dip for pitta bread.

Hey Brits, it really is summertime. That’s code for salad season!

Despite what you may think when you look out the window, or when you go out for a stroll in your mac, it is technically the summer. The weather, at least in the Southeast of England, has been so humid and muggy that the last thing I’ve wanted was a hot meal. As a result a lot of cooler soups and grains have been set on my dining table in recent weeks. I think for my husband that has not been easy because despite him feeling the same about the weather, he’s got that British thing going on where it can be tricky to bend expectations of how a dish should be. Soup should be hot, for instance (nevermind the fact that this statement is simply not true)!

But we are all creatures of habit and that has to be respected (and by “respected” I mean I don’t expect you to change your views, but I will still make fun of you for a long time). I compromised with a meal that was half cold and half hot. If you serve your veggies straight-from-the-oven and are worried about wilting the greens, simply serve next to instead of on the leaves.

The hubby is not a salad person unless “it is covered in dressing.” I always mean to ask him about this because, so far as I’m aware, salad is generally eaten with a dressing of some form. Perhaps he is referring to the sad and lone clumps of wilted lettuce often placed on the side of pub meal dishes? At any rate he ate this salad (and I would even go as far as guessing he enjoyed it, though he may claim otherwise).

Seriously, don’t make cool recipe ideas suck!

The idea for this came from a thought tucked away in the back of my limited grey bits for a few months. I visited a restaurant in Maryland that served a roasted vegetable salad that was mediocre at best, the sort of dish that made me say “but this has so much potential! Why did you make it suck!?” I knew I could do better and, to be honest, I did.

The salad dressing recipe provided is a very tangy and tart one, so if that’s a little much for you then by all means sweeten the dressing a little more. By all means, use your own dressing (I highly recommend a vinaigrette of some sort for this dish). The choice of veggies also isn’t set in stone; I bet some butternut squash or sweet potato would be a yummy addition! Experiment with your favourites and let me know how it goes. Be sure to try the roasted tomatoes though, even if you’re not a fan of tomatoes. I personally despise raw tomatoes, but the taste and texture when roasted is mouthwateringly good. Try throwing a teaspoon of sugar in with the roast tomato mix if you feel so inclined! It turns what is already a treat into a caramelised heaven. Spread it on bread, use it as the base for a dip, throw in a risotto… once you try roasted tomatoes you’ll want to use them in every dish you cook.

This is another dish from Southeast Asia that I recently learned often contains that fantasic Southeast Asian vegetarian-pisser-offer: fish sauce. It was after my second trip to Vietnam that I realised this dish (which I ordered every day) most likely contained fish sauce. It’s something to which I hadn’t given any thought, but there’s no point in worrying about the past. Rather, I had my own go at something basic and simple, and this was the result.

Recipe Notes

This super-easy vegetarian recipe only takes ten or 15 minutes, if that, and makes a healthy and yummy snack or main meal accompaniment. You could serve it as a main meal, but it would be suggested to increase the quantities a bit, naturally.

When my youngest step-son requested a Mexican meal for his birthday dinner, I decided to experiment with some old favourites. I urge everyone to understand that “Mexican” to an average American pretty much entails any recipe involving cheese and a tortilla, so I hardly consider my style to be authentic in any way. Like I tell the boys: were I cooking true Mexican food for them, they wouldn’t be able to cope with the heat. Hence I’ll just stick with the good fall back of “Southwestern style” cooking, as I think that’s probably a more appropriate title for the type of food I would generally categorise as “Mexican.”

Along with enchiladas (“my favourite thing you do,” as said by my eldest step-son), I decided to make some accompanying sides. Rather than the mild, flavourless store-bought salsas, I decided to experiment with my own tomato-based goodness. I made this the day before, so it had a good 24 hours to sit and let the flavours infuse. On the day it was a hit, and I’ll certainly be making it to accompany future “Mexican” meals.

We really liked this recipe, but my husband was a little concerned that the flavours perhaps clashed a little. I thought the mild sweetness (I added perhaps a bit too much chestnut puree in my original recipe, which I cut down here) of the polenta went well with the tart taste of the tomatoes and vinegar.

I am fast developing an obsession for roasted tomatoes and probably eat them a few times a week at this point in time. I guess I’m making up for all the years of not eating tomatoes (I hate them raw, and never thought to eat them this way).