Vegan Banana Bread: Breakfast Ready with Chocolate and Espresso in the Mix! (And Knitting the "Vogue Eyelet Raglan Cardigan" in Pretty Pale Blue for My New Gray Hair!)

I came home with a ginormous bag of bananas from Costco last week and this is what I ended up with: banana bread. Sometimes buying in bulk is necessary. I usually scoff at the purchase of a trunk load of bananas--a buck forty or not, and think, When will we ever eat all of those? Instead, I'll usually bring home a maximum of four bananas a week from the "regular" store because I like to have a half banana before bed (sometimes DH does, too)--and that about does it for us for a week's supply. Well, I had six bananas left in my bag still--and the "spotting" had started. I really wasn't in the mood to bake at all. (Yes, I have non-baking moments.) And yet. The bananas. They mocked me. I hate waste. I could have frozen them for smoothies, I realize. But I've not been in the smoothie mood. So this. So. Glad. I. Baked. Jump to the recipe here.

Gluten Free Sweet Potato Chocolate Chip Banana Muffins (My Midlife Baking Healthier, Eating Happier--with Less Sugar AND Less Gluten Shift)

I've been experimenting with gluten free baking for the past year now. Honestly, who hasn't? I have had some terrific results. I've also had some sad disasters. A health concern recently triggered a demand for me to cut back on foods on the upper register of the glycemic index. More on this in a moment. Meantime, desperate for a little sweet, a little "bread" with my morning GF oatmeal, I came up with these gems. Sweet potatoes are a favorite of mine. I haven't met a woman who doesn't love them. Trying to get my husband to eat one is like pulling teeth. He's, to be polite, not a fan. However, carefully disguised in food stuffs, they pass. I have read the sweet potato is a sort of "wonder food" for women who are losing their minds. . . I mean estrogen levels. More sweet potatoes for me please! I wanted a moist muffin that could hold up to my ritual of slightly re-heating and then dabbing with a bit of Earth Balance margarine. And then, of course, I needed chocolate. The list of ingredients is fairly long for these, but don't be put off buy this--they are worth it. Easy to whip up though. Plus, in the end, my blood sugar thanked me. These were completely worth the trial and error it took to get here. 

Beautiful Lives of Silent Sleepers (. . . And Reading Maya Angelou's, "Mom & Me & Mom")

This happens every Mother's Day weekend. I count. Sixteen years. I will always count. For some reason this year feels as if it were just yesterday. I don't know why. It could have something to do with the fact that I am this much closer to her age when she left. 

Vegan Buffalo Chicken Melts (I've put my hormones on "notice". . . and pass me more hot sauce, please!)

If anyone ever tells you menopause is "easy", turn around and smack them. I am on the door step of fifty. The. Door. Step. I am not ever going to state exactly when this milestone hits. That little blog section of mine entitled Almost Fifty will quietly be switched to something like On Death's Door. It will be quiet and uneventful. You might notice it one day and be shocked to see such a dramatic "label" within my search box. But it will appear and the day will have passed and all will roll on as it has: Sporadic postings of food and life ramblings. The usual. But with a tad more urgency perhaps. 

The whole idea for the Vegan Buffalo Chicken thing came about because I was a ravenous, menopausal mess. I wanted really BAD food, but in a good, vegan way. (We all know being vegan is not a panacea for all of life's ills, but just knowing we're at least trying by sticking to the whole "only plants" theme does ease the mind a bit, especially when you're talking about one of my past life loves: buffalo spice anything!) 

"So For My Next Act, I'll Limit Women's Rights"

Really? So went the general direction of the narrative from one side during last night's debate. So much so, I lost sleep over it. Did I just step off of 2012 and step into the 1950s? Pre Roe v. Wade days were dark for women. Very dark. I remember the first "talk" I had with my mother on the subject of my responsibilities and rights as a woman. And it went something like this: Be careful. Be vigilant. And above all else, do not EVER walk into this house unmarried and pregnant. Period. And the story of her being left in an orphanage followed. One may assume given this history lesson, I might have different thoughts on the matter of birth control. One would be wrong to make such an assumption. And my mother would have been the first to tell you why.

Spinach Artichoke Rigatoni: No Cheese, No Problem (And. . . More Fall Hikes)

We've been having a swell time playing catch up with our outdoor activities. (And I've been playing catch up with blogging--as evidenced by my "oopsie" in somehow hitting the "publish" button prior to adding my verbiage to this post! Hey, it's Monday. . . I'm almost fifty, etc.)

 So we spent the better part of the weekend "outside". It was gorgeous here. When we got home yesterday afternoon, I wanted a really homey, yummy pasta dish. Lucky for me, the Pioneer Woman posted her lovely spinach artichoke pasta dish--complete with gobs of cheese and real milk. It looked divine and I HAD to have some. NOW. 

Vegan Lemon Cornmeal Pound Cake (This is How 102 Feels, Almost Fifty and . . . On Going Gray)

Well, I suppose I should start with this lovely cake. This insufferable summer has caused my cake cravings to be put on hold. (Of course now we are in the middle of Hurricane Isaac weather--so far I've personally measured a rainfall amount of an inch and a half. Much needed rain.) I was worried about my sweet tooth issue. Nights would pass and not a single crumb of dessert could be found. I jumped in with a few batches of chocolate chip cookies--keeping the dough in the freezer for an occasional nibble, but other than that, nothing. I was confounded by this. My thoughts tended toward the "dark" side. (Or the hormonal.) Where had my sweet tooth gone?

Blackberry Lavender Double-Crust Pie (Moon Gardening)

I spent the weekend eating pie. It was a good weekend. In between my pie lust, I planted all of my "above ground" vegetables. That's a moon-planting rule of thumb: plant above ground crops when the moon is waxing, that is--during the phase of the New Moon up to the Full Moon. (Insert song here: Fifth Dimension, Age of Acquarius.)

It's been a busy past two weeks. What with my library presentations, gardening, general lawn maintenance (then periods of "recovery" afterward), a plant sale here, a visit to a lavender farm there, all the other time in between: cooking, playing scrabble, knitting, guitar practicing, cookbook buying. . . time has simply gotten away from me.

Vegan Suzy-Q Mini Chocolate Cakes with Fluffy Cream Filling (On My 399th Blog Post: How'd This Happen?)

This is my three hundred and ninety-ninth post. Seems pretty remarkable to me. There were moments when I thought, Well, that's all I have to say; I've cooked just about everything I can think of. Or this: I've shared just about enough drama. It's over, no more sharing. Then . . . this incredible pull toward the blog happens and I once again begin typing, opening that iconic window, "New Post". The blog has taken on a life of its own. Short of giving it a seat at the dinner table, it's here to stay. I reflect on this a bit at the end of this post. But let's get to the chocolate first. 

This was our Valentine's Day: flowers and chocolate. When Dr. Thyme came home, he had flowers for me. So sweet. (Good thing that "Roses" guy in the van at the bottom of the hill hadn't closed shop!) I had these chocolate hearts I'd baked for him. Could we have been any more cliche'?

Vegan Chicken Noodle Soup with Homemade Noodles (More Selfish Knitting Chronicles)

If I saw one more photo of chicken noodle soup, I was going to scream. What's a vegan girl gotta do to get some chicken noodle soup respect around here? Well, make her own of course. It's the stress of life at Almost Fifty that forced me into this. I tend to be really healthy most of the time. If I get struck down by something, it's a good indication I've been living on the cusp of coming undone. It doesn't take much, let me tell you. If I were to list all of the things of life that have forced me into this chicken soup mentality of late, you'd be reading my version of War and Peace. I'll spare you.

Green Tomato Salsa (Canning Is NOT For The Faint of Heart Nor For Those Prone to Carpal Tunnel)

Let's say you're at home and decide to take on a couple of "projects" you thought you HAD to finish before husband returns from his business trip. Let's say hubby left you with twenty pounds of green tomatoes he'd strongly suggested might make a wonderful salsa. Godforbid should you disappoint. Godforbid even more that you should NOT take on such a seemingly easy-peesy project. But let's say because you are suffering daily bouts of hormonal upheaval so daunting, you decide to cram as much as you can into the course of your fourteen hour wake cycle to keep the wolves "at bay", you end up conquering not only THE WORLD, but everything in your home with lightening speed--amazing yourself at the surrealness of the female body heading into it's second stage of life: this amped-up hot flashing engine you drive is nothing short of a miracle. (Why aren't more Almost Fifty women willing to speak of this?!) To top it off, you have enough energy at the end of the night to begin yet another knitting project.

Vegan Mushroom Lasagna in Velvety Bechamel Sauce (Learning to Knit Lace Again: A Black Shawl State of Mind)

This is one of the many nights I hadn't a clue as to what we'd be having for dinner--with about an hour to spare before Dr. Thyme came home, I was sort of in a pinch. I was in no mood to run to the store either. To be honest I was having one of my "shut-in" periods: times when being amongst the masses of other three o'clock grocery store scavangers sounded about as appealing as having my eyelashes removed one at a time by a trained monkey. No thanks. I had a limited amount of energy in my reserves and figured, whatever it was I made for dinner would most certainly have to last at least two nights. I was in a non-cooking frame of mind. It happens. I'm Almost Fifty. Hormonal. What can I say.

Precious Sister Time (This Is Us Making Up for Lost Time And Visiting Our Mother's Ghost)

I could have titled this post, "What I did on my summer vacation". Because really, the best moments of the summer were squeezed together in the shrinking daylight hours of this past week with my sister. That old adage time flies when you're having fun--it certainly does. Trust me. Before we knew it, I was taking her to the airport for her flight home. We have so much lost time to make up--every moment we have together is truly precious. We call it: Making new memories. We have years lost. Dr. Thyme is patient and kind while she is here. Giving us the "girl space" we need. Also, jumping in to be Photo Studio Man (because he really does take some of the best pictures we have in our collection--especially now that his eyes are fixed).