Vegan Feel-Good Chili with Everything (cooking to help heal--isn't that what all cooking is anyway?)

I needed to spend the entire afternoon in the kitchen. It began like all chili making endeavors: a glug of oil, spoonfuls of cumin, coriander, some mustard seeds, cumin seeds, turmeric, salt and the pile of veggies I had carefully spent the last half hour chopping and mincing. I literally just kept pulling out veggies from the crisper and methodically went through them with the knife: zucchini, onion, carrot, garlic, green pepper, celery. Then poured in a can of black beans and a can of kidney beans, then two cans of tomatoes--one sauce, one diced. And finally, added a bag of my favorite vegan crumbles (Beyond Beef). With the aroma of cumin and my heavy-handed scoops of some favorite chili blends (okay, it's Penzey's), my kitchen began to heal my soul. 

Low and slow--the way all chili should be cooked, the way all souls should heal. 

Quickly, while one eye was on the pot of chili, I whipped up a batch of brownies, too. 

My Mother's Stuffing Recipe: Gratitude Entry Number 328

Today, I went for a run while DH hiked. We each had a dog in hand. 

Nary a soul on the trail. 

It was heaven. 

Solitude. 

Cool day, crisp breeze off the Mississippi River. 

I logged three and a half miles. Frankie lead the whole way. 

She's now sixteen months old. 

Such a big girl. 

Vegan Potato Kale Cauliflower Soup with Bernard Clayton's Dinner Rolls (let me catch you up on what's happened. . .)

It's soup season. I could eat it year round, but soup's appeal really begins to nestle in my bones around late October and runs all the way through til April. I blame this soup on my sister. She visited last week, and during one of our many "excursions" around town--(and there were many), we stopped in at Foundation Grounds Coffee in Maplewood, Missouri. They have vegan options on their menu! Yay! I had a bowl of their potato kale soup--a very restorative and nourishing break, with a cup of their hot chocolate. So. Good. I couldn't get the soup out of my mind and my food memory backlash wouldn't let go. So here I was yesterday afternoon trying my hand at the same soup, only this time, going into our garden for fresh kale, tossing in some cauliflower we had on hand and aromatics of onion and garlic for good measure. In total this soup has six ingredients give or take. The hands on time is minimal for such a ridiculously good soup. So simple. I needed simple as I am experiencing my first full-on cold. Or maybe it's a light case of flu. Whatever I have, it's rendered me light headed and low-energy. So soup making was something I could handle. Well, and then I craved bread. 

 Never one to ever, ever serve a bowl of soup without crusty rolls or a loaf of bread, I opted for one of my old time favorites: I whipped up a batch of Dinner Rolls from Bernard Clayton's Complete Book of Small Breads. Love this cookbook. 

When I bake these, I modify the recipe quite a bit to my vegan/whole grain style of baking.  

If you'd like to make these rolls with less "hands-on" time, place all the ingredients in a bread machine. It's much quicker. I make these at least once a week.

They bake up superbly, crusty and are pure heaven. Freeze the left over rolls for the next night.

 (*My god it's taken me an hour to write this first paragraph, cough, cough, sniffle, sniffle.) 

Vegan Whole Grain Chocolate Chip Rosemary Pecan Cookies (September flew by. . .Milestones and Knitting Markers)

I bake a batch of these rosemary cookies at least once a month--when I remember to trim my rosemary. The cookies are delicious, aromatic and, of course, filled with chocolate. Lately it's been all I can do to keep up with my garden. The late summer heat wreaked havoc on everything from the tomatoes, to the lawn to even the oregano--which tolerates everything. While I was doing some container plant housekeeping I discovered hidden underneath some erstwhile yellow pear tomato plants a little bush of rosemary I had tucked into a container as companion plant with thyme and lemon balm. After trimming back the vines, here was this gorgeous, full rosemary plant flourishing. I pinched off a stem and inhaled the piney aroma. I had to bake something with this now. 

Vegan Summer "Berry Good" Pie According to Fannie Farmer (A Tale of Two Cities for Me This Summer)

Pies don't last long in this house. It's a tradition for me to bake at least three or four pies during the summer. But given we've had some really steamy, icky-raining, crappy summer days here in St. Louis this year so far, this is my first pie. But oh, what a pie! It's a three berry pie: blueberries, blackberries and raspberries all done according to the Fannie Farmer Baking Book by Marion Cunningham. (One of my most treasured cookbooks--and is to be saved first should, godforbid, anything happen to this house.) 

As pies go, if you don't attempt to learn anything else in baking, learning a pie dough recipe by heart will add years to your life and the life of your loved ones. Abiding by the directions from Fannie Farmer, "Pie dough should be made by hand in order to achieve the greatest flakiness. Other methods, using the food processor or blender, overblend the fat and flour and end up making a good, crumbly tart pastry instead of a flake pie crust." Truer words were never said. So here is the memorized pie dough recipe I have used:

2 1/4 cups unbleached all-purpose flour

1/2 teaspoon table salt

3/4 cup vegan shortening

6-7 tablespoons ice cold water

Add flour and salt to medium bowl, then add shortening in pieces, mix together with your hands until a fine crumb forms. And in this case, the mixture should look like what Fannie Farmer says: bread crumbs. Then, add the ice cold water one tablespoon at a time until you can pinch the mixture together and it holds. Split the dough in half, shape into a flat disc, wrap in plastic and chill in fridge for about 30 minutes. (Fannie Farmer says the chilling part is not necessary, and it really isn't despite what you've read. I just like the way the dough handles after a brief chill--my rolling pin experience involves less cursing as well.)

And for the filling, keep it simple: 

5 cups of whatever fruit you'd like

3/4 cup sugar

4 tablespoons all-purpose flour or cornstarch

juice of half a lemon

1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon ground ginger

1/2 teaspoon salt

2 tablespoons vegan butter

Toss this all together and pour into your pie shell.

Bake at 425 for 30 minutes, then turn oven down to 350, bake 25 minutes more. Cool the pie.

Ta-da: Pie!

Vegan Chicken Noodle Soup with Extra Noodles: Hold the Chicken (Windy City for Windy Sisters and. . . Calling Major Tom)

I was fortunate to have not gotten ill on my short trip back home to visit my sister. At least I have that to be thankful for. Who knew you could get the flu AND have the flu shot, too? Why go through the trouble fear and doubt of getting the damn shot if a month and a half later, you're so sick you can barely muster enough strength to roll yourself over in bed. Why?! I'll take my chances! 

So Sunday afternoon, after calling my doc in the morning and demanding asking for some antibiotics, something--anything!, I took every bit of my zapped energy and got the ingredients on the counter, and into the soup pot, simmering. (Because who else is going to cook for us: Frankie?! as DH and I were both feeling the effects of this 'flu-creep" beginning to take its toll.)

My veganized Chicken Noodle Soup sort of came together based upon what I could reach without falling over. So there's a little bit of everything in here. But without it all: the seasonings, garlic, onions, cabbage, mushrooms and barley, I don't think you'd have much of a soup. And when you think about it, the "old school" chicken noodle soup I remember didn't really have too much in it other than LOTS of noodles and a wee-bit of chicken. So. Here's where the beans came in. Then the barley. Then the turmeric added a beautiful, earthy and almost curry-ish-ness to the soup without it turning into curry. The turmeric color added to the soup made it even more delicious in appearance. It's a keeper in terms of soups. We both loved it and better yet, this recipe makes enough for the next night, too. Because seriously, I wasn't cooking much in this condition.

We're Expecting A New Member of The Family Soon So I'll Share Something Happy for A Change (and a reflection: My St. Louis, Missouri Today . . . My Gary, Indiana circa 1970s)

Well, we're preparing for the arrival of our newest member of the family in three weeks. My heart is melting over this. As you all know, Dr. Thyme and I have suffered several losses of our most cherished pets. And with each loss, we felt an emptiness that was difficult to overcome. Very. Difficult. Lots of tears. The last loss, Merlin, was perhaps the tipping point. The point at which we both looked at each other and said, Gee, it'd be great to have a dog for its entire life: from puppyhood to adulthood. Because truth be told, the time we have to share a life with a dog is never long enough.

Kelp Noodle Salad with Spicy Peanut Dressing (Um, I may have a yarn "problem" plus we go hither and yon)

It was only a matter of time before "kelp" entered this blog. Last month, DH and I were searching for a vegan eatery in St. Louis. Finding a vegan restaurant in STL is very simple--there are only a handful. I overwhelm easily, so it's a win-win for me in deciding. We were near Forest Park, PuraVegan was ohsoclose. So that settled it for us. This isn't a restaurant review post, but if it were, major kudos would be handed out. I decided to have a kelp noodle salad. Dr. Thyme had the vegan burger. (No surprise there.) What happened next changed my eating for about two weeks. Kelp was all I could think about. Kelp was all I wanted. 

Vegan Blueberry Hemp Cinnamon Crunch Muffins (. . . an after ten mile run pick-me-up, me and sis visiting the flowers, mammograms and "more" of life at fifty)

Although the blog's been quiet, the life has been anything but that. Let's catch up a bit, then I'll talk about these amazing hemp muffins I created. (Hemp. Seed. My new best friend.) As I mentioned earlier, I signed up to run the GO! St. Louis Half Marathon . . . in two weeks. (Blog flashback moment: I broke my ankle on November 11th.) Yesterday I accomplished my biggest challenge in my training for the half to date: I ran a ten mile training run in just over two hours. Can you say "Happy"? (Which is my favorite running song, thank you Pharrell Williams.) No ankle pain! 

The "Things in Threes" Rule (Going Back: Sweet Home Chicago)

Things are better now. I went "away". It was necessary. I called my sister and within three days, I was standing in her apartment. A sense of calm creeping back in. There were three things. Just like there always is: a family cancer scare, an intervention and right before I was to leave town, the sudden death of my best friend's mother. (A woman who's known me since I was fifteen). All in a matter of ten days. I kept count of each incident. I said aloud to DH, "Okay, this is one." Then I'd say, "Now this is two." And just when I'd righted myself to go away and spend time back home, I received news of a sudden death. Well. That's three. 

Vegan Red Velvet Cookies (My Best Friend: Thirty-Five Years And Counting And Why I'll Drop Everything To Be There)

The story of this cookie began last week when I received a phone call from my best friend. Sometimes you think life couldn't possibly hand you one more thing. And then it does. The time of the call (early) told me all I needed to know. Something terrible had happened. I'd barely said 'hello', was going down the list: Are the kids okay? Are you okay? Is your mom okay? Dad? Do you have the "C" word. . . what happened?! As it turned out, something horrible had happened. It involved her mother. Which in turn, involved me. Gayle would then travel a thousand miles in one afternoon. I'd see her in six hours. Then we'd travel another two hours to her mom.

This post will be about a bit more than this cookie. It has to. I was drawn to it by way of a tragedy. Like most things involving food and memories, I had to share more than just the food part in telling you about it. Jump to the recipe below if you are so inclined. But I have a story to tell.  

During the crisis, Gayle and I were able to steal brief moments away for "nourishment". Which, given the town we were in did not include Whole Foods. I'll refrain from naming said town. Let me just say it is quite southern in nature. Quite. (At least for this girl's Yankee roots.) But I love the drawl and at times can be heard carrying one on myself. It just creeps in.

 Were you able to raise her? Translation: Did she answer the phone?

I found myself back where I'd gone to high school. Back in the town where my mother drug my sister and I kicking and screaming. Back to where our mother would take her last breath. Just back. But it was here in this town I met my best friend, some thirty-five years ago.  

We settled on The Bread Company (that's what we call it here in St. Louis--because even though the chain has gone "national"--locally, it will always be known as TBC) for lunch during breaks from the hospital. Gayle spotted them first. These cookies. These glorious little packages of red joy. They were the size of dinner plates! I thought I couldn't possibly eat one by myself. Certainly not something under normal circumstances one would eat by oneself. But these were not normal circumstances. We were in major stress mode. Gayle ordered two. Then I ordered mine. There was no sharing. We devoured them.

I cared not whether they were vegan. I was ravenous. We both were. (We both love to bake. Both love to cook.) I said, "I have to veganize these . . . as soon as I get home." On my trip back, I stopped by the store to pick up another cookie to go--one for Dr. Thyme, and for taste testing--just to be sure the food memory stayed with me. He loved them, too. And then I began telling him of all that had happened. The tragedy. The tears. The utter disbelief of it all. Of how fragile and swift life can be. How in one moment, all can be changed. Forever. And it has. 

Apparently red velvet is making a come back. I couldn't be happier. One of my all time favorite red treats were Hostess Zingers (RIP Hostess). Red cake and coconut and creamy filling. What's not to love? So my partiality to red foods goes waaay back. And if you tsk-tsk the use of red food coloring for your eating pleasure, that's a shame. Because to my mind, it's the red food coloring that gives this cookie--and its cake namesake--an unmistakable yum factor. As for amounts--this cookie does not require a full bottle of red coloring. (The cake does.) I was able to to eek by with only 2 teaspoons. 

Heavenly. 

This is my best friend Gayle. We are in the parking lot of the hospital this past weekend. Both of us wanted a picture of the two of us for our phones. We acknowledged that given the stress, crying and "our age", sunglasses were in order. A moment of laughing was good for us. I sent a copy of it to my sister who said, "You guys look exactly like you always do. . . I've seen this picture a hundred times." And it's true. 

She and I met at a horse barn where her father and my mother both stabled their horses. I was new to town, as was mom and my sister (who is a bit younger than I). Mom came home one day asking if I'd ever met Gayle. The only people I'd "met" were the neighbors, and kids in my classes (junior high--oh the horror)--and briefly at that because I was still super bitter over being uprooted at such a vulnerable age. (This was to be our mother's third husband. Yes. third. And not her last.) Basically, I hadn't branched out "socially" yet in our new home town. Apparently our mother had. More mentions of Gayle and her dad. Then one day, mom brought me to the stables (I grew up riding horses because our mother had an affinity for them). I finally met Gayle. We agreed to catch up some time at school. And that was all she wrote. 

I'm not going to tell you we were attached at the hip. But we were. And as you might imagine in all these years, there have been ups and there have been downs. Moments of sheer joy. Moments of pure hell. Shared celebrations. Shared sorrow. Spans of time without one another. We are both women after all.

When my mom was in the hospital during her last few months, Gayle's mom was, too. I could barely stand watching my mom going through all her "stuff". My sister and I were taking turns nursing to her when we could. My mom adored Gayle. (They shared a kinship of sorts, Gayle was an only child, so was our mother.) When Gayle couldn't stand watching the poking and prodding her mother went through and I couldn't stand my mother's tests (and pain affiliated with them)--we'd switch. I'd go sit with her mom and stand along side for the tests and whatnot, and Gayle went to be with my mom and hang out with my sister. They were in different hospitals. . . at the same exact time. Ultimately, her mother got to leave the hospital. Ours did not. 

But that was one of the many too-many-to-count memories. There is her father's role in my life as well.  After her parents divorced, he would call for Gayle to visit him--she'd always drag me along. (Okay "drag" may be too strong a word-especially for that trip to Denver.) Then on and on life went with both her mother, her father, her aunts, uncles and usually at some point were Gayle and me. In and out of each other's lives so many times.

She called me once and asked if I wanted to go on a vacation together. . . again. I was never much for "traveling" vacations--my jobs in the past required me to be on the road entirely too much. I can't stand hotels to this day. But this time she wanted to do Memphis: Graceland. We did the whole nine yards. Bought the CDs. Bought the Elvis t-shirts. Wept at the grave site. The. Whole. Nine. Yards.

We stayed at the Peabody. Yes. We watched the ducks, too.

On a much earlier vacation--with her mother and her two children (now grown, both in college and amazing)--we all spent eight days on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. She took this picture of me. We both laughed about how Kennebunkport this looked. We called it "The Postcard from Dahling" shot. (And yes, I had to go brunette at least once in my life. I wanted people to take me more seriously. It was the only time in my life gentlemen stopped holding doors open for me. So I said "screw this" and went back to being a blonde.) 

She has always had something of an affinity for bikes and things that go varoom-varoom. (She gets that from her father. That's who took this photo.) She owns her own Harley. She will never get me on that damn bike. Okay?

I got home this weekend completely exhausted. I slept for thirteen hours straight. Then woke up and took a nap. I'm still emotionally spent. We all are. There is much to be done. More for Gayle and her family to manage through. I am praying for them all, and I am especially praying for her mom. 

I told her over the phone last night that I'd come home determined to make that damn cookie vegan. Baking was a great salve. DH said he couldn't believe I'd even had the energy to bake. But I did. It somehow righted me. I can't wait for Gayle to try them. And my sister--who will be here in a few short weeks! Dr. Thyme gave them a big thumbs up. Gayle told me she went back for more cookies, took one up to the hospital yesterday and gave it to her mom. The nurses busted her. Hard to hide a giant red cookie in the sterile white backdrop of a hospital! But her mom loved them. 

Vegan Red Velvet Cookies

*Adapted from Great Cookies by Carole Walter

makes appx. 24 cookies

6 tablespoons unsalted vegetable margarine (at room temperature)

6 tablespoons vegetable shortening (at room temperature)

3/4 cup sugar

1/4 cup molasses

2 teaspoons red food coloring

1 1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour (*use the scoop and sweep method of measuring the flours)

3/4 cup white whole wheat flour

2 tablespoons baking cocoa (*I used Ghiradelli)  

1 teaspoon baking soda

1/4 teaspoon salt

1 1/2 teaspoon Ener-G Egg Replacer mixed with 3 tablespoons water

1/3 cup chopped pecans

1/3 cup white chocolate chips

extra granulated sugar for rolling cookies

extra powdered sugar for rolling cookies

Preheat oven to 350. Line two cookies sheets with parchment paper. Place about 1/4 granulated sugar in a small bowl, and next to it, 1/4 cup powdered sugar. Set aside. In the bowl of a stand mixer, cream together the butter and sugar until smooth. Add the molasses, egg replacer and then red food coloring. Mix until well blended. In a separate bowl, whisk together the flours, baking soda, salt and chocolate baking cocoa. Slowly add the dry ingredients to the wet (in thirds)--mixing just until the dough begins to form clumps. Fold in the pecans and white chocolate chips. If the dough won't form a solid dough ball, add a teaspoon more water. Take a tablespoon of dough and roll it in the palm of your hands to form a small ball. Roll the ball in the granulated sugar first, then the powdered sugar. Place on cookie sheets spaced about 2 inches apart. Bake for 13 minutes. Remove from oven and allow to cool on trays for about three minutes, then remove to cookie rack to cool completely. Store in freezer for about two weeks. Or store in an airtight container for a week. 

Vegan Caramel Cake (Looking Back . . . )

Nearly 2012. I am completely through with 2011. Through. I had decided I'd wanted to take a break from all that is and live "off grid" for a bit. And so I have. It's been pure and utter delight. I won't say that I didn't peek into the world of the internet here and there, but when I did stop by, it was brief and I quickly set about doing whatever it was my mind was consumed with two minutes before.

Vegan Lemon Almond Tea Cake with Lemon Glaze (And Snowflakes on The Side for Some Much Needed Crochet-for-Me Time)

I had to take a break from cookie baking. Plus, it felt like I was being unfair to the cake. In keeping with the "only happy things" posting theme for December, I am sharing this amazingly delicious lemony slice of heaven with you. If you are stuck for a gift idea for special foodies in your life, might I strongly suggest you give this recipe a try. Seriously. I'm on my "almost" third piece this morning already. The addition of ground almonds to the batter took this bread to a new level in my opinion. There is this sweet, crunchy-almond-y, lemon-y pizazz you get when you bite into this. The browning of the crust occurred after I baked mine in an old metal loaf pan once belonging to my mother. Mmm. I will promptly be hitting the treadmill this afternoon.

I have a trip coming up here shortly. I'm heading back "home". Indiana. I have not been home in sixteen years. My last visit was for my mom's funeral. (I wouldn't really call that a visit as much as a mandatory march.) She wasn't from here either.

Vegan Linzer Cookie (This Vintage Holiday Baking Moment Is Brought to You by My Mother's Recipe Box)

Well, we finally had snow. A dusting. But just enough of a dusting to ignite a bit of that holiday thing everyone else on god's green planet seems to have. I headed back to my favorite home store for Christmas lights, deciding this year, it's LED lights outside for us. (Especially since the makers of these lights got smart and realized NEON white is not really appealing to the average Christmas light home decorator, and that the warmer glow is much preferable.) Purchasing these new LEDs nearly required me to take out a small loan. I let out a gasp when I signed my receipt, but we'll still be able to put food on the table. Besides, as I explained to Dr. Thyme (after telling him of our new "holiday decoration investment")--they'll last 25,000 hours and use eighty percent less power! We'll just need to be sure to put in our will who is to inherit them when we're gone. Besides, I refuse to "celebrate" and be all festive while our local utility company is "laughing all the way. . . to the bank". I simply cannot live in the dark during the bleakest time of the year.

It's the little things.

Like Christmas lights.

And these amazing cookies.