This has to be one of my most favorite recipes.

It’s rich, delectable and creamy….. I could go on and on. It would be equally welcome, that wealth of rich Boursin cheese sauce, when mixed with silky braised kale or chard too. Or! Or! Take an entire rainbow of vegetables and roast them, dress them to the nines with this coat of luscious sauce, topped with the toasted Panko crumbs and then a few minutes under a broiler to sputtering browned perfection and you’ve got a side dish worthy of any celebration. Or, just an ordinary dinner at home.

Believe me, there is nothing boring about this dish. Nothing run-of-the-mill, or plain or anything. This is one of those weapons in your recipe arsenal that you pull out for the good friends who grace your table, the ones who kick off their shoes without being asked, who bring wine while wearing faded blue jeans because you just don’t need to be fancy with your closest companions. And when they lift the first fork to their mouths, tasting the herbs, the seasoning of the succulent Boursin cheese, you know that smile that forms on their face tells it all. It’s impressive, yes. But simple and quick and anyone can make it. And it leaves you looking like a superstar, because it’s just that good.

Boursin Spinach Gratin

1 bunch fresh spinach, destemmed, washed well and spun very dry ( sub in kale or chard too)
1 t. unsalted butter
1 small shallot, minced
3 T. AP flour
1-1/2 c. whole milk (alternately, use soymilk- it works perfectly!- or equivalent of 2%, or 1 c. skim & 1/2 c. heavy cream)
1 container Boursin Herb and Garlic cheese,  5.2oz
3 T. fresh shredded parmesan, or other hard cheese of choice
1 t. each fresh squeezed lemon juice and fresh grated lemon zest
2/3 c. panko bread crumbs
1 T. melted butter
Salt and pepper to taste

Heat oven to 425°

In a medium oven proof skillet, melt butter and add shallot, cooking and stirring until soft, about 5 minutes. Stir in flour to coat and then slowly begin whisking in milk until fully incorporated. Stirring constantly, bring sauce to a gentle simmer to thicken slightly, then add in Boursin cheese, a small amount at a time, until all of it is blended into the sauce.

Drop a handful of spinach leaves into sauce and stir to coat. Add more, a handful at a time, until all spinach is mixed well with the sauce. Bring to a simmer, cover and simmer for about 5 minutes. Mix panko, salt and pepper and melted butter, sprinkle over top of spinach and place pan, uncovered, into oven. Bake for 10 minutes, until bubbly and crumbs are browned. Remove from oven, allow to cool slightly (remember that pan handle is HOT!) and serve immediately, sprinkled with parmesan cheese.

Alternately, mixture can be divided among smaller ovenproof ramekins to be baked. Divide spinach into ramekins before topping with bread crumbs. Baking time will be shorter.

 

What’s on YOUR plate this month??

Summer ends when the season ends, some time in the midst of every September. The 22nd? 21st? The sun crosses a time line and the word ‘summer’ is an afterthought, yet for most people, Labor Day signals the official end of the best season Minnesota has to offer. I’m more optimistic. I like to step outside the box, and while others are saying ‘Fall’ when school buses roll down the streets again, I’m still crowing ‘Summer’. I will gracefully extend my white flag of surrender to that mentality, that a season can be marked by milestones instead of days on a calendar, while I straddle the seasons, try to push summer to extend just a bit farther.

It’s not hard to do when a plate of this Roasted Ratatouille is staring back at you, loaded with late summer tomatoes softened to a deeply flavorful mass, chunks of hearty zucchini and eggplants so perfectly round and unblemished that they look false and plastic, yet yield to a tender flesh so delicious it makes your eyes roll back. I can have my face in Summer, my cheeks enjoying the warmth of the days, while my head and heart charge towards Fall, cool air, a warm humming oven and a comforting meal when the air chills and sweatshirts come out.

This dish, once again as is the case with so many in my adult years, was not something I’ve loved forever, and maybe that’s part of it’s appeal. My Mom used to make Ratatouille when I was young, and my sisters ate it but it always turned me off completely. That which held ruby red tomato and a vegetable with the word ‘egg’ in it just sounded like it would be horrible. I was a picky child mostly due to texture issues, as I have learned; foods like mushrooms, tomato, squashes of all kinds and especially eggplant (an egg? a plant?) are now foods that sweep themselves across my plate on a regular basis, bursting with flavor when once they would make me shudder. I’m so glad to have grown up to learn of their wonder.

Roasting vegetables is quite possibly my most favorite way to eat them, except for right off the vine. With an enormous bounty of fresh from the Farmers Market zucchini and onions, and the aforementioned eggplants, along with the fattest and juiciest Black Krim heirloom tomatoes to come out of my tiny postage stamp garden, this dish was so loaded with flavor that it made my eyes water in joy. Tomato flavor intensified from the heat of the oven, while the eggplant and zucchini became tender-crisp and then just to make it more interesting, I mix everything together and let it sit overnight in the fridge, just to tease a bit more flavor out, a deeper marriage of September’s taste of the vine. The bowl needed nothing else; no salt or pepper, no added oil or seasoning. Topped with the amazing find of crisp strips of chive thrown on top of the vegetables on a whim, it was a dish that slowly spread a Cheshire grin over my face with each bite.

What a personality too. There’s no stodginess involved here, no set way to consume such a meal; we ate this mixed with pearl couscous (because I am, truly, having a love affair with those tiny grains of pasta) and we ate it atop heady and aromatic polenta studded with corn kernels and flecks of fresh herbs. It would be just at home too, stuffed inside a crisp and warm baguette, layered with provolone cheese for an incredible, messy delicious sandwich. Serve it on rice, or with a simple risotto. Warm it slightly and place it on garlicky crostini for a hearty appetizer or light meal. Or toss it, chilled, with greens and a shower of fresh grated asiago cheese for a salad unlike any other. Mix it with pasta, please; make sure you add a good turn of hard cheese. And if you find yourself late at night, in the kitchen with a fork in hand, a few dips in to the bowl while no one is watching is ok too.

And are you like every other gardener in the state- a pile of chives growing in your garden that you don’t know what to do with? I foolishly planted chives many years ago, which went to seed without me doing anything about it (big, BIG mistake)  and now, well now I am fighting off chives with a blowtorch practically, and did you know that if you pluck them they just grow faster? Neither did I, but I’m learning that the hard way. Another thing I learned about chives is that you can blast them to kingdom come with Round-Up, but the little buggers just come back, shiny green and taunting. I’ve learned to hate chives, but a handful of them tossed atop these roasting vegetables made for a crispy and delicious garnish that just might make me a bit softer towards this evil relentless herb. Surprise awaits in the strangest places, doesn’t it?

Roasted Ratatouille with Crispy Chives

2-3 medium tomatoes
1 large eggplant
3-4 small zucchini or yellow squash (2 if they’re larger)
1 large red onion
3 garlic cloves
A generous handful of fresh chives
Olive oil, sea salt and fresh ground pepper

Preheat your oven to 400°. Slice the tomatoes into quarters and place on a baking sheet. Drizzle with about a tablespoon of good olive oil, sprinkle with a bit of salt and a few grinds of fresh pepper. Place pan in hot oven and roast, watching carefully, until the tomatoes begin to soften and the skins wrinkle. You want them to retain much of their shape, but release some of their luscious juices. I don’t roast them for more than 10-15 minutes at that temp. Remove the pan and allow them to cool, then slip the skins off.

Dice the zucchini and eggplant, slice the onion and crush the garlic, placing all of these on two baking sheets. Drizzle with a bit of olive oil, add salt and pepper and roast until the vegetables begin to soften, about 15 minutes. Stir carefully, then return pan to oven for about 10 more minutes. Scatter chives over the top of the vegetables, then roast about 10 minutes more, or until the chives are crisp and toasty, but not black and charred. Remove pans and allow vegetables to cool.

In a large bowl, combine tomato (with any juice from the roasting pan), eggplant, zucchini, onion, garlic and about a third of the crispy chives, reserving the rest for garnish. Gently mix together (I like to use my hands to avoid breaking everything down), taste and season with more salt and pepper if desired. The ratatouille can be eaten as is, warm or at room temp. For deeper flavor, chill the mixture overnight, and allow to warm to room temp the next day before serving.

One night last month, amidst the gorgeous August that made it’s way in to Minnesota and on a night that seemed as supple as velvet, I was home by myself, bored and restless. Feeling the urge to experiment with some of the food laying about the refrigerator, I poked through the stuffed bags from the Farmers Market, eyeing the three overflowing bags of chard.

I’ve been crazy for chard. Really crazy. Thankfully, this is a good thing. It’s not like an addiction that’s harmful, unless you can OD on vitamins. My blood won’t be anemic any time soon. And after this particular evenings playtime with my food, I was excited to share my findings so I propped up the computer on the island and found my voice to tell you this story.

    
    

      
      
    
    
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This is the second time making an amazing Panzanella salad that I’ve groaned in disappointment when downloading the photos.

I struggle with photographing ‘busy’ dishes; ones where a wide array of ingredients take center stage. I look down at it, my breath catching because it’s so lush and lovely, then after the fact, when the memory card is emptied, I curse it under my breath. There just doesn’t seem to be a way to capture the ‘Too Much’ principle of what’s happening in the bowl.

This one came as close as I could…..

….but even this doesn’t tell you how beautiful this salad turned out.

It’s September, a glorious intro to the month has occurred with incredible weather; warm sunny days and cool nights that hint lightly of the coming Fall. The markets are staggering under the weight of the season’s bounty, and it just boggles my mind what farmers are bringing with them each week. I am so easily overwhelmed by the loaded tables as I wander up and down the rows at my favorite location, checking out quality and price, eyeing the vendors, wondering how much they’ll haggle with me. Three baskets of zucchini for the price of two? How much is left in your truck? If I buy 4 sweet gypsy peppers, can I get a few small, tiny ones thrown in for good measure? After many visits, and lots of questions, you know who’s willing to negotiate with you. You know their faces, worn and tired and overwhelmed themselves; you know who just wants to move the bounty and who isn’t willing to budge. And it never hurts to ask. The worst they do is shake their heads and tell you ‘No’ and then you move to the next table, to the farmer watching you closely, who possibly heard your request and is more than willing to compromise. In fact, she’s already reaching for what you want, naming her price. In the last 15 minutes of the market time, you just never know what you can get away with, and it’s always fun to ask.

I’m always on the lookout for something different each week I wander those open air aisles. I gravitate towards that which looks odd or different. While others may grasp basket after basket of beefsteak tomato, I’m the one reaching for the Carolina Gold- a bright orange variety that’s less acidic than it’s red brethren. I look for cherry tomatoes in a rainbow of colors- orange, yellow, white, black- and am drawn to those tables. I don’t want convention. I don’t want the norm. I want something that will dance on my tongue and stretch my imagination, colors that cross the entire spectrum, foods that wake me up. I’ll bypass the standard cuke in favor of an heirloom Lemon Cucumber, round and crisp as an apple. Sweet Yam Leaves? They taste like mild spinach, says the farmer, and she laughs as she warns me ‘Be careful if you buy them; they’re going to become your favorite green!’ and she’s right. I go back, time and again to her table, buying two enormous bunches at a time until she’s past the prime of these sweet, tender and delicious greens, shrugging her shoulders at my request. ‘Next year’ she assures me, and my mouth grimaces. That seems so far away already.

The variety in this Panzanella salad isn’t much out of the ordinary, unless you look below the surface. It’s still tomato, and dried bread, but in this case, it’s a loaf of sesame semolina bread that I made without adding the salt, rendering it just out of the palate’s acceptance. The remainder of it was doused with a heady olive oil, redolent of fresh herbs and crushed garlic, then slowly baked in a moderate oven until the cubes were solidly dried out. A basket of the aforementioned colorful cherry tomato went in to the bowl, to soak in to the bread alongside grilled zucchini and eggplant. A shower of fresh green herbs and an hour on the counter top and whether or not it was a beauty that I captured with my camera or not, when it entered my mouth it was perfect.

Perfect because it’s September and it tasted like sunshine. Perfect because I did little to it besides grill a few vegetables and make sure the seasoning was right. It doesn’t need much, if anything, and when pointing the camera at it, a bowl full of the bounty of a season, it was almost too much to capture, like the very season itself. I couldn’t take just one photo to explain September, as much as one taste of this dish could never justify it’s contents. The season is like one long explosion of sight, smell and flavor that refuses to be held down, caught on film or chronicled on paper. It can only be experienced, like an open air market, like a fresh tomato off the vine, still warm from the sun and bursting through its skin. It bucks explanation, and convention. But it never disappoints.

Does one really need a recipe for Panzanella? Good croutons, whether from scratch or store bought is the key, along with perfectly ripe, juicy tomato. Beyond that, it’s up to your imagination. Use good sea salt and fresh cracked pepper, add a few splashes of a good olive oil and use a gentle turn of a rubber spatula so you don’t break everything up too much. Serve it over greens, if you wish, or add more chopped vegetables to make it heartier, like my version, and that of my friend Laurie, who has an amazing and colorful Panzanella on her site as well. Indulge in the bounty of September, and there will be no disappointment.

If you’re in need of a true recipe, with proper proportions and everything, my inspiration for this Panzanella came from The Kitchn, and their recipe for Panzanella with Roasted Squash and Tomatoes

For more inspiration and recipes utilizing Summer produce, check out my friend Jen’s blog too. Her post on Easy ‘Summer’ Meals has a lot of options.

I came away from a long visit to the Minnesota State Fair this year with two prominent thoughts:

#1- The absolute BEST way to attend such a gastronomic event, where most everything is deep fried, with enormous portions, not so very healthy and most always made with meat is to go with a big group of like-minded friends so you can share all the gustatory delights and not leave feeling bloated and ill.

#2- I went to the Fair, knowing all the above regarding the food offerings and I ate everything that I felt like eating- including meat- sort of as a means to remind myself why I prefer to fill my belly with healthy and nutritious foods instead of the crap that often constitutes the American diet.

And that night, after sharing in the consumption of fried cheese curds, an Asian style pork burrito, fried pickles, cajun french fries, honey sunflower ice cream, sweet corn ice cream (FOUR portions shared between six of us- wow, so darn good), falafel, gyros and a strange but satisfying vegetarian dish that included lentils, rice, pasta and fried onions, I went to bed with aching legs from the 7 hours of walking, and woke in the night with a fully expected belly-ache. And I mean a raging hurricane of complaints from the tummy, saying over and over and over again “What did you DO to me!!!???”

I mean, four months is not a lot when compared to a lifetime in terms of good eating. But four months IS a lifetime though, because really, it took me only two days at the start of those four months to realize that changing the eating game for me was really beneficial. And it doesn’t take but one day of eating lousy to send my body back into a whirlwind of pain and suffering. It’s that easy, and your body is pretty good at reminding you of what happens when you feed it junk. My poor belly whirled and twisted, like an angry toddler with flailing fists as if it just couldn’t believe what I’d done to it.

The harder part however, was fighting off the urge to continue eating more junk, despite the protesting belly. It was like a switch was flipped in my head, a switch that said ‘GIMME!!‘ with red-hot intensity, to grease and fat. One day of eating poorly and I suddenly was flooded with urges for food I hadn’t regularly eaten in years. Mike made oatmeal for breakfast and I couldn’t eat it. With my tummy still doing cartwheels over the previous days intake, a bowl of something warm and healthy was the last thing it wanted, but really what I was craving was a huge carb and fat feast the likes of which I haven’t consumed for a long time. I drank a protein shake instead and that sort of helped, but I still fought off intense cravings for junk all day long. By late afternoon, I gave in and devoured a partial bag of chips that was in the cupboard, then by dinnertime my stomach was pleading with me to give it something green and chock full of vitamins. I can’t recall ever feeling so desperate for something healthy. Ever. With my mind and body at war over the onslaught, I was disoriented and restless, feeling depressed and scattered. It was eye-opening and somewhat scary how quickly all that junk food took over my mind and belly and fought for domination.

But I am nothing short of stubborn.

And my belly and mind can try and fight for domination over my heart and common sense but it won’t work. I knew what I needed and thankfully, it was all right there in the kitchen. A bag of chard, the remains of a container of cherry tomatoes and a can of great northern beans and soon I was happily consuming something green, sending my belly the message that those cries for help had been heard.

I even included the colorful and crunchy chard stems in my meal.

Tossed with a bit of oil and dusted with salt and pepper, I roasted this batch of stems until they were tender and nicely chewy, giving a pleasant added texture to the soft earthy chard. The stems are a really nice touch to any medley of roasted vegetables, especially tiny red potatoes and fresh carrots and they are rich with chard’s lush, dark flavor. This dish is quick to come together, making it a cinch to readily step up and cure what ails you, whether it’s a gastronomic overload of wanton delights or just a stressful, busy day.

Simple Chard Sauté

1 bunch chard, stems removed
1 15-oz can Great Northern beans, rinsed well
1 small leek, split, washed and sliced thin
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 pint cherry tomatoes

Wash the chard leaves thoroughly and spin them dry. To make them easier to cook and eat, rough chop them into manageable pieces. Wash the stems, trim the ragged edges and chop them in to bite sized pieces.

In a medium skillet with a lid, heat a small amount of oil and add the leek and chard stems. Season with a bit of sea salt and cook, stirring occasionally, until the chard stems are tender and the leek is browned slightly, maybe 10-15 minutes. Add the garlic and cook, stirring, for a few minutes, until the mixture is very fragrant.

Add the chard leaves by the handful, stirring the leaves to begin wilting them. Continue adding leaves and stirring until they cook down to a manageable size. Add about 1/3 cup of water to the skillet, stir in the beans and tomato and then cover the skillet. Allow to steam over medium-low heat for about 10 minutes undisturbed. Remove the cover, season with sea salt and fresh cracked pepper.

What’s that saying? ‘Necessity is the mother of invention?’

Many amazing recipes occur when the frantic need for something to add to dinner comes up and I wildly glance in the pantry to see what I’ve got. What odds and ends are laying about in the fridge? What needs to get used up? What tastes good together?

I fling a lot of ingredients in a pan, or a bowl and I cross my fingers a lot when I cook. Whether it’s out of ‘necessity’ like the quote, or just curiosity, it’s not often that I follow a recipe. More likely, I am making something up as I go. Thankfully, more often than not the results are pretty tasty.

The worst part of it all is that if I don’t write down what I did, I rarely remember it to be able to recreate the dish.

This one, however, did not get away from me.

Side dishes have always been a favorite of mine, and lately I’ve been on this kick of filling my plate with nothing but ‘side’ dishes. The nice thing about removing the focus of meat from our meals is that just about everything we do now can either be termed a ‘main’ dish, or a ‘side’ dish. And sometimes, all of what is being served at our table, technically, are sides.

Griffin was making fish for dinner recently (yes, we eat fish) and we both really wanted something unique on the side. I keep a lot of rice and grains handy, but we were short on time and didn’t want to wait for brown rice, or wild rice to cook. He was digging through our pantry and pulled out a jar of pearl couscous, asking me ‘What’s this?’ And as with necessity, and invention was born.

Pearl couscous, mostly recognized as Israeli couscous, is the thicker version of the tiny semolina grains that most people know best. Couscous isn’t really a ‘grain’ like farro, or quinoa; it’s pasta in minutiae form. The instant version of couscous cooks in a flash by adding the tiny beads to boiling broth. The larger form takes a bit longer, but still is quick enough to make for an easy dinner. We used chicken broth, some frozen corn and a generous handful of fresh herbs from the garden and the result was surprising to all of us. It’s light and flavorful and wondrously versatile, but not heavy like larger pasta shapes. I think some form of this will be making regular appearances on our dinner table. With enough fresh vegetables added to it, the dish becomes a meal in itself, or you can serve it over a garden fresh tomato for a perfect salad option. It actually tastes wonderful cold too.

Did you notice the new print button feature??? Pretty cool, huh??

Pearl Couscous Pilaf

1 c. pearl couscous
1-1/4 c. well seasoned broth (can use vegetable, mushroom, chicken….)
1 medium leek, or 2 small ones, sliced and washed well (can sub a finely diced onion)
2 cloves garlic, crushed
1/2 c. vegetable of choice (we used corn; try diced zucchini or other fresh seasonal vegetables)
1/4 c. fresh herbs, finely chopped (we used thyme, oregano and basil, then parsley to finish)

In a deep skillet with a cover, heat a few tablespoons of oil. Add the leek and cook, stirring regularly, until softened and beginning to brown in some places. Add in the garlic and cook, stirring for about a minute. Add the corn (or whatever vegetable you are using) and stir to coat with the oil mixture, then add the couscous and cook, stirring, for about 5 minutes. Pour in the broth, stir to combine and bring to a boil. Then reduce the heat so it simmers, cover the pan and allow to cook, undisturbed, until the couscous absorbs all the broth. It should take about 10 minutes. Allow it to sit for about 5 more minutes, off heat. Before serving, toss the fresh herbs in and stir to combine,  seasoning with salt and fresh pepper. Top with parsley as a garnish.

Not even five minutes into my Sunday morning hike and already my shoes are soaked from the dew. I have to make a split second decision as I feel cool, wet water seeping through my socks; turn back or keep going. There might be blisters at the end, surely some chafing from my hiking shoes, but it’s a glorious August morning and the sun is glaring down on me. I can’t go back. Ignoring my wet feet, I move on.

I’m in Otter Lake Regional Park and this is my glory place, my church of the great outdoors. Plopped in the middle of White Bear Township, it’s a tiny little park, with a very nice nature center and hiking trails that make you feel like you’re miles from the outer world. It’s where I cross country ski in the winter time, and for the other three seasons, I roam it’s trails and discover more and more every day to love about it. On this particularly beautiful morning, in the high season of summer, I take to the trails, dew and all to seek out something I can’t find among the concrete.

My favorite path is cut short by standing water; it’s unusually low in that area, and during the Spring thaw, the trail is often impassable, but it always dries out. But this summer, with it’s abundant rainfall, it’s a no-mans land. I keep on the path that leads me around the back of the newly constructed natural classroom and head in to the swamp. This trail will lead me to the northwest section of the park where the hardest challenge of my hike lies. In there, the path cuts through a sanctuary of birch and towering oak trees, dipping down sharply, then rising just as fast to offer a heart-pounding, blood racing interval that I love. I can’t even consider going on this trail in the wintertime, on my skis. It’s challenging enough on foot, but I can’t stay away. The majestic oak trees line the path, like sentries that silently watch me pass, breathing deep, as the smaller of the two lakes in the park wink it’s shimmer of blue through the tree line. I try to challenge myself to run hard up a few of these  short but steep hills. I’m ignoring my damp shoes.

Coming out on the other end, I’ve broken a sweat and wish I had my water bottle. The sun has rose high enough now to pound on my skin, and the wind swirls around me. It’s not strong enough to keep the flies at bay, and I impatiently swat away at them, mentally reminding myself to bring bug spray the next time I come here. This section of the path, through the heart of the park is high and open. No trees hide the sun out here and as I push on, beads of sweat slip down my temples.

The best part of being out here isn’t the nature. It isn’t hearing the hum of the highway along the western edge of the park, or the sound of the trains in the distance, blasting their whistles as they through the crossing. It isn’t the flash of deer, startled from their morning graze, leaping through the trees with white tails whipping, nor the fox, visible only by it’s bright red bushy tail twisting as it runs. It isn’t the small brown snake that lifts it’s head as I approach, watching me closely. “I’m no threat.” I murmur, slowing down to gaze at it’s tiny eyes. It doesn’t even flinch as I carefully step over it, and turning back as I move on, I see it’s watching me.

It isn’t any of these things, nor the rustle of the grass, or the continual droning hum of the insects. It isn’t the fluttering butterflies that skip along the path ahead of me, all shapes, sizes and colors. It’s isn’t any of it, and it’s all of it. Because out here, with the open skies and clean air, coupled with my footsteps and steady, hard breathing, it’s all of it at once that tames the voices inside, the swirl of life in my head that becomes a cadence of regular disruption. I come out here and it all disappears. My head clears, while the constant motion in it stops and I can breathe, relax, feel my blood pound and just let go. I am in sync with myself on this path, instead of at war with trying to figure out what’s next.

Then the trail dips down to the larger lake, and winds around to the north. It’s really uneven here, and now I am fully aware of my hiking shoe rubbing on my right ankle. The arthritis in my feet is apparent, but it will never stop me; it’s just more noticeable where the path is the least stable. The grass is tall and it tickles my legs. I swat the flies, wipe the sweat and keep going because soon, there will be the boardwalk leading me around the side of the lake, and at the other end is the thickest, densest trees and a hard packed dirt path that will take me back to the place I began. I’m on the last leg and those woods, with the tall maples and cool shadows will feel really, really good after the heat and sunshine. I feel the temperature drop as I enter here, and the slight chill rejuvenates me. Sunlight is dripping through the high tree canopy. And it’s glorious with bird song.

But the mosquitos in here are terrible. I can’t stop, or even slow down. I want to grab a few photographs to chronicle this morning, but I am swarmed with nibblers if I try to catch my breath. My feet feel better, but the rubbing on my ankle is a chronic annoyance. Because it’s cool in here though, the sweat slows down and I don’t have to wipe my face so much. My heart and lungs are on full power now; I’ve been hiking hard for 45 minutes by the time this trail leads me back out to the blacktop path that I started on. The nature center is in sight, and the parking lot, where my car and my water bottle await, is beyond that. My head feels soothed and I take a deep breath, once again. I’m back to the car, stripping off my soaking wet shoes and socks, wiping down my feet with the wipes I keep in my car and toweling off the sweat. My water bottle is half empty already. I stretch out the tension, drop in to a few yoga positions to re-focus and eventually climb in to my car to head home. In less than an hour I hiked nearly 4 miles.

And I’m so hungry now.

At home is waiting the simplest of simple summer salads, perfect for these heady days of heat and sun. The farmers markets are absolutely bursting with a mind-boggling bounty of fresh food and I am crazy in love with sweet corn, fresh tomato, zucchini for the grill, tiny purple eggplants and dark, dark greens. Every meal tastes like sunshine, each bite bursts with flavor. I snip handfuls of herbs from the garden to crush and sprinkle over everything and even after washing my hands I can still smell the thyme, the parsley and basil, the volunteer oregano that sprung up from last years plants.

And this salad…. this salad awaits my gnawing stomach, the hunger driven out of a vigorous hike, deep gulps of clean morning air and the need to still my mind. It’s simple, quick and so delightful; the snap of fresh tomato, fresh zucchini chunks, crunchy corn kernels that still taste like a farm field and lots and lots of tiny thyme leaves. A few scattered pieces of lemony goat cheese makes it complete.

My shoes are drying in the hot sun, outside on the patio and I need a shower. My ankle didn’t blister, thank goodness, and while my body is energized from it’s workout, my mind is at rest. This is a good place to be. Like August, with it’s wellspring of fresh vegetables.

What’s on your summer table these days??

(Notice anything new down below here?? There’s a print button for my recipes now!!)

Herbed Sweet Corn and Tomato Salad

4 ears sweet corn, shucked, cooked and stripped of kernels
4 medium tomatoes, or 1 pint fresh cherry tomatoes, as ripe as you can find
2 small zucchini, diced
1/2 c. fresh chopped herbs, such as basil, thyme, parsley and oregano (use rosemary if you like it)
2 T. good quality olive oil
Fresh ground black pepper and sea salt

Combine all ingredients in a medium bowl and drizzle with olive oil. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Allow to stand for 5-10 minutes to combine flavors. Serve topped with goat cheese, if desired.

My Notes: I used half a pint of purple cherry tomato, and one good sized orange heirloom tomato for my version of this dish. I also diced up a fresh heirloom pepper that I had on hand. I think one of the best parts about this dish is how colorful it can be with the variations available now. As the salad stands, it will release plentiful juices which are delicious if you dip fresh toasted bread into them, then sprinkle a bit of sea salt over before eating.

So…. what DO you EAT?!

Good golly, I’ve encountered this question a lot since sharing with people that I’ve given up eating meat. And upon hearing this, I want to shake my head. Or maybe, shake the person asking me. Really? What do I eat? As if meat is the Be-All to End-All of every single thing we put in our mouths? Someone even asked Mike ‘So, how’s it going on the “Eat Nothing” diet?’

The ignorance, I’m sorry, really really annoys me. I mean…..REALLY annoys me. We, as a nation and people, are much smarter than this.

I could get in to discussing the health benefits of a eating plant based meals; I could go on and on about the sheer prevalence of heart disease, diabetes, sky-high cholesterol and the problems associated with that. I could talk about the national epidemic of obesity in our country, how we’ve become the fattest, most unhealthy nation on Earth, how our food policy is screwed up, how Big Ag has taken control of our food system and plunged our country in to this crisis as a neatly controlled and highly selective means to push their own agenda and pad their pockets. I could discuss the effects of meat consumption, and really, I could get into the whole tired meat debate about factory farming (yawn) and blah blah blah……

But that’s just a dragged out and relentless argument. We KNOW the facts. We KNOW that the huge portions, high fat, processed foods, food additives and preservatives, junk food, fast food, soda, and a million other bits of garbage that crush the aisles of our grocery stores are bad, bad BAD for our bodies. But for being a country of intelligent, highly educated people with the highest standard of living on Earth, we sure know how to turn a gold mine of knowledge into a cesspool of ignorance.

And really, I’m just tired of hearing the public consensus of ‘Gosh, I know this is bad for me!’ as they shove garbage in their gullet. I’m tired of hearing people whine about the crap their kids eat (that THEY BUY for them…. GAH!) and I’m just sick to death of the hand-wringing sense that ‘Oh dear! What can we DO about it!!’ because everyone has within them the means to change everything about their situation. Everything. Every bite they eat, every sip they take, every item of food tossed carelessly into a grocery cart and right down to where and how they shop for groceries. We each have the capability to change any situation in the palm of our hand if only we have the willingness to put down the bad stuff we consume and pick up something better.

Because I did just that. I changed everything about my food, my life and my health. And if you want to see the Readers Digest Condensed Version, please go to my friend Nicole’s blog, and read all about it. But be warned; it took me a long time to get to where I am; the timeline in my story covers twelve years. Twelve! Years!!  I did not make these changes overnight. And they won’t happen overnight if YOU take on the challenge to change what you don’t like about your health and well-being. But they also won’t happen if YOU do nothing about it, and then the whining gets kind of annoying to those around you. My deepest apologies for sounding harsh. Deepest, deepest apologies. Because I do get the inertia that comes when faced with making such powerful changes. It’s hard. I know. Been there.

But there is nothing about eating plant-based foods that smacks of deprivation, so I thought I would make note of some my meals lately, and let everyone know what you really can consume on a meat-free eating plan. Because, you may think I’m really just wasting away, gnawing on a block of bland boring tofu and a plateful of plain ordinary brown rice, hungrily dreaming about a juicy steak.

Heh. Not.

I’ve been enjoying braised kale and poached eggs for breakfast quite often, and tried it with chard too. Loved it. The energy and ability to focus after having this as a start to my day simply amazes me. Eggs cross my plate a lot. I love those little orbs.

Mike and I shared a delicious ciabatta loaf  for dinner one night, stuffed with grilled asparagus, portabella mushrooms and eggplant, then topped with fresh spring greens and sliced tomato. We both had our hands full of this amazing sandwich, and even before I’d joyfully swallowed the final bite I was already dreaming of the next time we’d eat this. It was divine.

I made a pretty good veggie burger, with black beans, mushrooms and bulgur. Even Griffin ate it and declared it to be OK. I plan to experiment more with veggie burger options as I do like the ones I’ve tried so far.

Quinoa makes for a terrific base for just about anything. Add in grilled red peppers, mushrooms, baby bok choy (yes, grilled) zucchini, beets (yes, grilled), more asparagus and chopped radish and you’ve got an incredibly satisfying meal. Griffin will happily eat this without one raised eyebrow. That makes me ecstatic.

I’ve made two amazing tarts with puff pastry as the base. One had asparagus, the other had caramelized onion and roasted radishes on it. Fancy pants stuff, those tarts.

Griffin made pizza for us one night. Ours had grilled zucchini, red and orange peppers. Plus a ton of fresh chopped tomato. It was like a slice of summer in my hand.

More grilled vegetables, plus some canned black beans made for terrific grilled veggie quesadillas. I did these at home for a friend who came to hang out with us, and I made them for a meal at our lake home. They were enthusiastically received both times. My friend was halfway through his second quesadilla before realizing there wasn’t any meat in them. He ate a third, and took home a few too.

Salads. Folks, we’ve had some sticky hot days here in MN. On a scorching and humid day, there is nothing like a big bowl of salad greens and a wide array of crunchy cool vegetables and fruit like carrots, radish, cucumber, apple, nuts, grapes….. you name it. Toss it all in a bowl with a drizzle of good olive oil and it’s a meal worthy of some serious mastication.

These Lemony Garlic White Beans are on a continual rotation in my kitchen. And some version of these Better Black Beans from wayyyyyy back in 2008 get dished up just about weekly, served over rice or eaten as Nachos.

There was a giant container of Peanut Sesame Noodles that lasted for days. I used a commercial peanut satay sauce that I found on sale, added shredded carrot, sliced cucumber, bean sprouts and fresh mint. It was heavenly. And perfect for hot summer days.

I’ve become utterly besotted with balsamic glazed grilled mushrooms and look for just about any excuse to make them. Serving them over Fresh Herb and Corn Polenta is stunning both for the eye and the tongue.

And of course, every recipe I’ve posted since the beginning of May, such as……

Chard and White Beans with Fresh Herbs. Nothing delicious and healthy about that, is there?

Fettucine with Braised Kale. Rich but light and flavorful. Pasta, people! Pasta!

Kale with Quinoa and Toasted Pecans. Crunchy, earthy, cheap and easy.

Toasted Farro with Greens and Tahini What a unique flavor, and so filling in such a good way.

The best snack ever: Roasted Chickpeas. Like popcorn. Killer addiction. If you dry roast them there is zero fat calories.

Here’s that Roasted Radish Tart, if you’re interested

Oh, and a Charred Cherry Tomato Pizza with Balsamic Mushrooms. Yeah, one means of eating those amazing mushrooms. Hoo boy…. wildly good, and some of the best pizza I’ve ever eaten.

And this Ratatouille Gratin? Desperately lacking…… nothing. Nada. Zip.

So there it is. We eat better now than we did before, what with all the glorious color, variety and options available. I’m always satisfied at meal time, and the best part is that I can eat a lot and be full without that painfully stuffed feeling I used to get when I ate meat. My belly is healthier and my menopausal symptoms have dwindled to almost non-existent. If I can achieve that simply by modifying my diet, then I know I’m on the right track.

There is absolutely nothing lacking in plant-based eating. Nothing at all.

And this plan works for us, but it may not be your thing and that’s OK. We all need to find our own means to the ends we seek, and we need to dialogue and discuss instead of point, question and ridicule. Most of all, we need to support, encourage and praise every victory, every step in the right direction.

So what steps do you take to improve your health? Have you seen any decrease in problematic symptoms with dietary changes? I’d LOVE to hear what’s worked for you and your means to achieve optimum health.

People, I’ve madly fallen in love with radishes.

(photo courtesy of Really Natural)  

I do remember not particularly liking them as a kid. But then again, I didn’t care for much then anyway, being raised on a typically 1970′s diet, I was your typically picky little thing. Fresh foods weren’t that present in our home so my exposure was lacking and my palate not particularly advanced; it’s no shock I wasn’t at all enamored with the radish’s peppery bite, a sting to the tongue that I found unpleasant. My sister Karen loved them, dragging them through a plate of table salt before popping them in her mouth. Even that typical dressing did nothing to take the edge off the flavor. So for the most part, I’d ignored them.

Then something happened a few years back. On a trip to the Farmers Market, I spied a large bunch of red, white and pink radishes- it was an enormous amount- and was only a dollar. I picked them up, passed a buck to the farmer and placed them in my bag. Once home, I stared at them and thought ‘Great. Now what?’ I ate one, and it was divine. Fresh, snappy, crisp and tart, but not harsh and sour like I recalled. Still, I didn’t leap headfirst into devouring them. I remained rather skeptical. And they languished in my fridge until I was forced to do something, anything, with them.

So I pickled them. On a whim. And went tuckus over teakettle for the crisp little discs, eating them on sandwiches, with my fingers and finally with a fork to grab the last little slices from the dredges of their vinegary brine. And it was soon after that when I first dragged a cold fresh radish through a slab of creamy butter to discover one of the best, and most surprising treats I’ve ever tasted. My eyes were now opened to the radish. Once again. Adulthood is a wonder around every corner, especially when discovering the foods from your childhood that once caused you to turn up your nose are now part of your regular gustatory delight.

So they’ve happily made a comeback; the inexpensive little things can be had sometimes on a 2-fer deal with any farmer willing to move their bounty. I scrub them down and place them in a baggie where they happily keep for days on end, willing that they last that long in my fridge. I eat them for breakfast a lot, sliced thick on good toasted bread with slices of butter, or most recently, this delicious sandwich creation that I’m thoroughly ga-ga over.

A cooked egg, nice and firm is placed a top a bed of greens on nicely toasted bread, and covered with several shredded radishes. The key is to shred the radish directly over the egg. Something about the fresh spray of liquid released makes for a much better flavor. I like spinach with this, but I’ve used spring greens, garden lettuce and romaine as well. This is a summery breakfast, if I’ve ever dreamed of one.

I took my radish love one step further too, recently, when I roasted an entire batch of them.

Roasting radishes takes the sharp flavor away, and replaces it with a mellow soft rendition that is palatable to anyone, even the most avowed radish hater. One would hope, anyway. I could have eaten these like candy, but instead, I caramelized a big pan of vidalia onions and made the two of them into a delicious tart atop a flaky puff pastry crust.

This was a sweet, tender and amazing hand held meal, soft like summer nights, fresh as the season and when topped with just a little Gouda cheese, a bit of savory tang that balanced the vegetables perfectly. Eating a slice of it, on my patio, with a lovely glass of Rosé wine and a perfect summer night surrounding me, I felt a million miles away from my life, but in the simplest way possible. I love how a good meal, with gentle ease can transform an ordinary day into something surreal and dreamy. That’s the magic in a plate of really, really good food.

So…. do you like radishes? What do you like to do with them?

Roasted Radish & Caramelize Onion Tart

Scrub one bunch of radishes well, removing tops and roots. Cut into halves or quarters and toss with a bit of seasoned oil of choice. Roast at 400° until tender. It won’t take too long, maybe 10 minutes.

Slice two Vidalia onions and place in a hot skillet. Cook onions over medium heat, turning frequently, until browned and tender, about 15 minutes. Reduce heat to low, add a few tablespoons of brown sugar (or a drizzle of good honey) a tablespoon of kosher salt and a dash or two of balsamic vinegar. This is my favorite way to caramelize onions, but you may have your own method. Continue cooking the onions for about 20-30 more minutes, or until they are very soft and richly browned. Stir them on occasion, and be careful not to let them burn.

Thaw one sheet of puff pastry. Roll out sheet to desired thickness on parchment paper, then transfer to baking sheet. Poke holes in pastry with a fork and place in 400° oven, baking until lightly browned, about 10-15 minutes. Remove from oven, spread caramelized onion over the crust then top with roasted radish and a small amount of a good sharp aged cheese of your choice. I used Gouda because I had a some on hand. Fontina and Gruyere would be good options too. Place back in oven and bake for about 15 more minutes, until edges of pastry are crisp and brown and toppings are hot. Allow to cool slightly, then serve. Can also be served at room temperature.

I’m always on the look-out for quick and easy meal options, ideas for those nights that the guys take over dinner prep and want some good food to appear without a great amount of fuss. Long winded recipes don’t cut it with them, but these really easy Black Bean Tostadas make for a perfect summer dinner.

Based on this idea for a Black Bean and Corn Pizza, I took it one step more towards simple and used corn tortillas for the base, making a crispy shell that went from our toaster oven to my plate in about 10 minutes. The most time I spent was opening a can of black beans and shaking them under running water.

If you’ve got a toaster oven you’ve got the means to make this in a snap but are limited to only two at a time. Using a regular oven makes for more crowd appeal. Increase the amount of all ingredients as needed for the number of people you’re serving. I would imagine that adults could easily eat two or three of these. I myself managed to shotgun four without a blink of remorse.

But I was stuffed. Happy. But stuffed. Delicious as a main meal, this would also be perfect for a nice appetizer, and could easily be done on a grill with tantalizingly smoky results. The black beans make for a hearty and filling addition and no one will miss any meat in this. Fresh tomato gave it a summery flavor, and a crumble of queso fresco would be a nice addition just prior to eating them.

Black Bean Tostadas

1 15-oz can black beans, drained and rinsed
2-3 t. chipotle en adobo
1-2 t. each ground cumin and chili powder
1 medium tomato, diced
1 c. frozen corn (no need to thaw)
1 avocado, diced
Corn tortillas
Pepper Jack, or Co-Jack cheese for topping
Lime wedges

Heat oven to 400°.

Place drained black beans in a small saucepan and add 1/3 cup of water, the chipotle en adobo, cumin and chili powder. Stir to combine and heat until simmering. Remove pan and mash beans coarsely with a sturdy wooden spoon. Add more water if needed to make beans spreadable, but not runny. You want them to be thick.

On a baking sheet, arrange corn tortillas and place in oven, turning once until tortillas are slightly firm. Remove pan from oven and carefully spread a few tablespoons of black bean mixture on them, then top with tomato, corn and diced avocado. Sprinkle a little cheese over them and return the pan to the oven. Bake until cheese is melted and tortillas are crispy around the edges, maybe 5 minutes. Squirt fresh lime juice over the tortillas before serving.

NOTE: Instead of using avocado chunks on the tostadas, mash the avocado with a little lime juice, salt and pepper and use either as a topping for the tostada when it comes out of the oven, or spread a thin layer atop the black beans before adding the other toppings and baking them. Either way you use it, it’s delicious.