littledebbieharry

[littledebbieharry]

On Camp Food

All the campfire cooking; s’mores of course, banana boats, and peanut butter, marshmallows and mini chocolate chips wrapped in tortillas wrapped in tin foil and thrown into the fire to turn melted and charred. There were these cast iron contraptions we acquired on “cookout days”. Long thin handles and two halves of a rectangle that hooked together on top. In it we put slices of white bread drenched with beaten egg. On top, chopped onions and peppers, mounds of cheese. A savory french toast sandwich, steaming, gooey, hot. We were not a hundred feet from the mess hall, the craft area, the lifeguards, but beyond that were trees, forests extending out like a loosely knit web or cocoon.

I never liked making the fire- it wasn’t until that summer, when I was 18, that I lit a match for the first time. The other counselor was happy to gather the logs and twigs, placed crumpled newspaper around the mound of splintered wood. For my part, I had the campers cut peppers and onion, shred cheese, as I layered it all between canned tomato sauce and long lasagna noodles. Being as big as a lasagna normally is, we were all hungry and impatient when it emerged from the fire. It like a lasagna and a campfire had a baby. But perhaps there is something more satisfying about using an open flame to turn raw ingredients into their sum than an oven. Perhaps that was enough.

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Breakfast of Champions, Eli Durst (because)

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I remember my first year of college, my first month, and we were in the woods or “The Canyon,” what the on-campus trees and the paths and the streams were called. We passed a boy that Bella knew. We were all smoking of course and feeling extra hazy, unworried about pretense, or, at least, I was less worried Bella always smiles at strangers, she met an Older Boy during orientation just by exclaiming about the moon loudly enough at a party. I don’t think she was being dramatic. It was a good moon that night. 

I remember the boy she knew from before, Jesse, half-streaked by shadows so the bits of him we did see come back in my memory as glowing. He was roommates with the guy Bella and our other companion, Stephen, known not-so-simply by has surname, “Chiboucas,” had bought their weed from. I don’t recall if this supplier was with Jesse or what the walk across campus was like but we all ended up back in Bella’s. 

Even now I marvel at her ability to make a room feel contoured to human living in a way that felt intuitive, or, at the very least, not known to me. When I don’t think too hard, I tend to drift to a more no-frills approach to interior design; a paper garland covering half the length of a wall; a single Ikea pillow on my bay window. I seem to remember Bella’s room, on the other hand, as being covered with posters, photos, any bit of paper she with which she could attach meaning. Her linoleum floor was covered with a rug made of large, slightly rough loops of yarn. Even her clothing and jewelry, spilling out of her closet, and her skis propped in the corner served as decoration, indications of a person fully living within a space

This went further. Whereas I thought our student meal plan would satisfy our hungers, Bella brought with her a mini fridge and, no, she did not fill it with beer. She would make runs to Trader Joe’s or bike to the near-ish farmer’s market for fresh-made tortillas, fruits, and weird snacks.

So, on that night, once back in her room, Bella made us sundaes. She used the cherry-chocolate soy ice cream that she, as a new vegan, had been raving about. I, having been recently converted to a plant-based diet, was game for her dairy-free concoction. But when placed the finished plates on our laps, I was confused at first, or at least taken off guard.  Lacking classic ice cream toppings, she had strewn almond butter, jelly and Puffins, the proto-health food cereal of my youth, across the melty, pinkish mounds. Skeptical but not one to turn down a well-made dessert, I took a bite. What did I have to worry about, really? It was delicious, of course, the sweet-tart shock of the jam mingling with the creamy curves of the melting ice cream. The crunch of the cereal hitting against the fat of the peanut butter. I love that I’ve never had a sundae like that since, that it’s so tied to a certain time and supply and circumstance. I love that it was made by Bella, that the food can exist safely within my mind, untasted all these years, and still bring an intensity forward, sweet, startling, true.

[littledebbieharry]

Recipe Round-up: ****Bean Edition****

Some of my favorite legume-y, lenticular dishes to showcase the beauty and tastiness of the diverse family or plant-based protein sources

-Chana Masala: everyone’s favorite Indian take-out dish, but homemade! It tomatoey and full of spices and downright homey. Perfect comfort food. I don’t like soap in my food so I omit the cilantro. 

- Herby chickpeas: If you want your chickpeas ASAP, may I suggest dousing them in lemon juice and olive oil and tossing with an obscene amount of herbs? A perfect portable lunch, especially with this insane olive grain salad. 

- Mujadarra: This lentil-rice dish is timeless, basically, but i first discovered it on the blog of Lagusta Yearwood, life-long vegan and creator of the hashtag #beansarequeens. And while humble, the combination of caramelized onions, a hint of paprika and not much else had me eat it right out of the pot on many a spring break in college. I think it’s a lovely lesson in the tastiness of restraint. 

- Dosas: I had my first Dosa at an unassuming restaurant in Jersey City that looked like it used to be a McDonalds. It was mindblowing, obviously. Basically crepe batter made of basmati rice and urad dal (a white bean used in Indian cooking), it is spread really thin, wrapped around some sort of filling and served with coconut chutney and sambar, a tomatoey soup. My housemate in college would make it using whatever bean and grain we had lying around the house- millet, red lentils, brown rice, etc- and eat them with salsa as a snack. It didn’t take long for it to become my favorite as well. You can start off making them the traditional way or try a more makeshift, casual style. Either way, the fermentation stage is crucial for the best flavor. 

- Zahav’s Hummus: I love good hummus and now, thanks to Michael Solmonov, it’s possible to make the smoothest, creamiest hummus at home! Add pita and veggies or whatever else and you’ve got a meal. 

[littledebbieharry]

“I can’t believe there was a time I didn’t know what to do with a lentil.” I said, incredulously and not without hauteur, to my friend Jade, stirring a boiling pot of them in her kitchen. I said it again a few weeks later to my friend Harris, cooking yet another pot of those little protein disks (uh, sorry for that, maybe??). And though I have had plenty of time to hone my relationship to all legumes- dals and peas and beans alike- it is not too hard to remember when they were mere mysteries, both in their preparation and their purpose. My first exposure to them may help explain this confusion. My parents had this cabinet at the edge of their kitchen that holds their mostly untouched but still extensive liquor collection, stale holiday-themed sprinkles, half-used bags of powdered sugar and flour, batteries, for some reason, and a bunch of floppy bags of legumes, untouched for who knows how long. When I saw my first bag of pinkish lentils in that cabinet, I remember wondering “what the hell do you do with a lentil?”.

I can now say my fluency now extends to legumes of all sorts and, now that I know them better, I would even say that their affordability, versatility, and impressive nutrition specs make them among the best of foods.

It is the taste aspect, however, that may prevent beans from entering your mind when asked, “What should we eat tonight?” In the weird, meat-centric, confused food culture in America, lacking the ingrained culinary history that defines most other nations’ cuisines, beans can seem weird, inconsequential. When introduced from other culinary traditions to our palate, beans may seem like accompaniments, side-kicks at best- the refried bean to the carne arrovadas, the dal to the chicken tikka masala, the hoppin john to the ribs, etc. Or, they may be left out altogether, replaced by something more familiar or conventionally tasty.

But I know the role of the bean does not have to be like this.

That’s one of the cool things I discovered after adopting a vegan diet five years ago; our tastes are dictated not so much by some inherent deliciousness in some foods over others, but, rather, the flavor and meals with which we grew up, for which we had a cultural context, what we were told by our parents, friends, advertisers, tastemakers, were good. And, more importantly, when you break down our favorite foods into their matrix of flavors and textures, you can open up a whole range of possibilities for your palate. A craving for mac n’ cheese, points less to one platonic Idea of macaroni and cheese; from the boxed kind, to the baked casseroles with breadcrumbs and broccoli, to the stovetop bechamels, we all know that this one dish has all sorts of iterations. But beyond the name, what connects these dishes is the combination of sharpness, creaminess, carbiness and softness.  And why can’t other dishes like. say, pasta covered with a nutritional yeast and nut-based sauce or even a Thai coconut milk curry over a pile of jasmine rice, satisfy that craving as well? I’m no trying to say any of these dishes are all the same and the one can always replace the other, but that our tastes are much more fluid than we think.

It’s funny, all these years later, I actually have to exert some mental effort to conceptualize that some people, most people, actually, truly, genuinely enjoy and get excited over a rare piece of steak or a whole chicken, or like, pork shoulder? I don’t know! Having decided to eschew meat, my palate began to shift, and my cravings followed. I love nothing more than brothy beans and wilty greens doused in olive oil, or a thick, tomatoey bowl of chana masala to get my protein fill.

And sure, meat is chewy and marbley and comes with built-in fat, just waiting to be rendered out of it and I think that’s cool. But oil exists, as does all sorts of aromatics, texturizers, seasonings, add-ons, finishers, etc. That may be what excites me about legumes. They’re the blankest of slates for you to elevate or fuck up at your leisure. Cooking with meat, to me, is like bowling with bumpers; it’s easier to reach your goal, but you have so much help already! Beans on the other hand, are akin to taking away the handicaps; while gutterballs are more likely, you will find your skills refining, your results more honest.

All of this is to say, it’s ok that lentils are weird, scary, or just plain boring. But just know, it doesn’t have to be that way.

[littledebbieharry]

Matchy matchy, Kelsey McClellan and Michelle Maguire

[littledebbieharry]

why shouldn’t something I have always known be the very best there is. I love you from my childhood, starting back there when one day was just like the rest, random growth and breezes, constant love, a sand- wich in the middle of day, a tiny step in the vastly conventional path of the Sun.

Eileen Myles

[littledebbieharry]

filed under: suburbs, teen wastelands, weird bits of freedom, curly fries

[littledebbieharry]

I remember the nights we would drive to Van Dyk’s, sometimes it would already be dark out though the light of summer was long. I would be nervous to enter the shop’s fluorescence, filled with pony-tailed teenagers laughing, flirting, living out some cinematic fantasy, I was sure. The regular flavors were on a small lined board, the kind with removable plastic letters, spelling: vanilla, chocolate chip, peppermint stick. Their rotating specials were listed on white cardboard circles decorated with magic marker like elementary school art project and just as sweet. The first flavor I ever tasted there was called vanilla caramel and I could rarely pass it up after that First Time. When I took a chance on cheesecake or cookie dough flavors, I could only wonder, no matter how good the flavor lazing around my tongue, if vanilla caramel would have treated me better. But regardless of flavor, I always got my cone dunked in the complimentary sprinkles, because I could lick a sprinkled cone without skipping a beat, each softening lick sliding down my throat with the least insistence as my family perched on the low brick wall because there were no benches or chair, only rows of cars under the orange dusting of the street lights.

[littledebbieharry]

Breakfast of Champions, Denise Stewart-Sanabria (because)

[littledebbieharry]

Brunch Menu (Winter)*

Baked chickpea “shakshuka” (like this but with chickpeas instead of eggs)

Orange-avocado salad with red onions  (this or this will do)

Granola clusters (?!? or ????!- the old standby)

Yogurt as accompaniment

Imagining this as a Mother’s Day brunch, my grandma, aunt and cousins over- all of us sprawled all over the house from the night before- on futons and couches and pull-out beds, vaguely assembling throughout the morning. Mormor would probably be up first, drinking tea and doing the crossword in her nightgown. My mom and I would be next, chopping grapefruit and avocado, simmering the chickpeas and my aunt would be around, too, helping us do dishes. The light would stream in from the sun room and we would marvel how bright it gets, and how early. Lauren and Steven would be up by now, drifting in and out of the kitchen, asking questions, drinking coffee that my mom brewed. And finally, when the table is set, the yogurt slumped into a bowl, the salad artfully arranged, we would rouse Christina, the late sleeper, from her slumber and we would all sit down and eat.

*but, really, eat it at any time of the year

[littledebbieharry]

I made all this shit, 3.31.18

And a copy of the menu, calligraphy courtesy of Jade :)

[littledebbieharry]

Dream Menu

Hand tossed salad with homemade mustard, nounou*, sauerkraut

Alison Roman’s tomatoey lentils with lime and peanuts

Wild rice stuffing/salad combo (think)

Dates over greek yogurt, drizzled with tahini, flaky salt.

*assorted seeds, i.e. sesame, poppy, nigella, cumin, flax, etc

[littledebbieharry]

hehe

[littledebbieharry]

Everyone’s gotta eat

[littledebbieharry]

The beginning of my spring roll bender started with midnight conversation and a jolt of inspiration. I was laying in bed next to my mother and we were listlessly talking what to cook. For his spring break, she and my brother had come to Portland to visit and, a few weeks before, in another late-night visit from the muses, I feverishly texted her that, in place of taking my friends out to eat, we could make the food. Having grown up making dinner, holding barbeques, hosting countless Christmas Eves right next to her, the idea was not a hard sell.

But it was the night before the party, I had just texted my friends the invite and we still had no menu. So there we lay in the twin bed in our Air BnB, half-expecting to fall asleep before any decision was reached, but still letting our ideas float out while we were still awake.

“How about stew?” my mother asked, and I must have audibly scoffed.

“We are not just making stew”. And, then as if out of nowhere, the idea was birthed.

“Oh my God, mom. I know what we should make.” And though the idea did seem to spring, unbidden, from some hidden source, it did not truly come for nowhere. I had been stuffing veggies, tofu, avocado into rice paper since college and my parents, after eating at a particularly memorable Vietnamese restaurant, had been them for dinner at least once a week, complete with a plastic semicircle whose sole function is to hold water for the moistening of rice paper.

So the next day, even with a mere hour before guests were to arrive, we quickly assembled this dish we knew by heart. We chopped herbs, carrots, cucumbers, gave tofu a soy sauce-sesame oil bath, sliced avocado. My brother dutifully made the salty, tangy peanut sauce my mom had found years ago by typing “vietnamese peanut sauce” into google and clicking the first link. And when my friends had arrived, the Rosé had been drunk, and most of a vegan cheese wheel had been demolished, we all sat and waited for my mom, always the delegator, to pass out the moist, softened wrappers while plates of crunchy carrots, wisps of mint and parsley, and warmed squares of salty, chewy tofu were handed around the table. The resulting rolls were nothing if not messy, overstuffed, having to be corralled into mouths.

But, really, that disheveledness was what part of the dish’s appeal. I spent the day leading up to it with a bit of nervousness in my belly. I was inviting disparate groups of friends over to spend time with my family and I wanted everyone to like each other, or at least have an evening that went beyond hors d'oeuvres and questions about the weather. If there is a joy greater than having people you love in your life it’s having the people you love love one other too. Having to fill and wrap these spring rolls without a carrot spear or a messy folding job tearing the whole thing apart, while a little tipsy would, hopefully, engender this unguarded familiarity that I felt with all of these people already.

Despite my worries, though, the party went splendid.  Jade and Lizzie connected Reiki and Shawn listened to my brother earnestly, intently. I can’t say if the spring roll making contributed at all to the conviviality nor can I say if that’s what led me to eat them again for lunch and dinner for a good three days afterwards, but I can say they were fucking delicious. So even without the ice-breaking effect and enjoyment of making the spring rolls,  I encourage you to consider them for your next dinner party, girls’ boys’ humans’ night, book club and, yes, three-day craving, on their taste alone. All of the components come forward to create a winning combination of chewy, soft, salty, sweet, crunchy, light and savory; they hit all the marks. They do well to substitutions for modification- cilantro in place of mint, or basil, and any sort of crunchy vegetable would be welcome in here- celery, bell pepper, carrot, cucumber, jicama, etc. I also know that kimchi is a stellar team player. The only real nonnegotiable for me is the peanut sauce. And avocado. And tofu. Just promise me you’ll try my way before you change things around, ok? Just once?

Ideal Dinner Party Menu

DIY Spring Rolls

-rice paper wrappers (find in “Asian foods” section of most grocery stores)

- tofu, cut into strips marinated with ~¼ c. soy sauce and 1 tbsp sesame oil per block, baked at 400 until crisp and chewy (15 minutes?)

- sliced avocado, cucumber, carrot, jalepeño 

       •any other crunchy veggie works here; bell pepper, bean sprout, sugar snap peas, probably??

- fresh herbs- parsley, mint, cilantro, basil

-shredded cabbage

- peanut sauce (my mom uses the first hit listed when you search “Vietnamese peanut sauce)

wet the wrappers in a plate of water until just pliable (make sure you can still see and have guests  fill and wrap their own. Keeps the meal lively and engaging. Fun to make your roll to your own tastes and inevitably someone overstuff their wrapper and has to hold the mishmash of ingredients in their hand for fear of it falling apart. Food is messy and sometimes embarrassing and it’s okay to revel in it with good friends! Or future friends. 

For dessert:

- coconut “sticky” rice

We couldn’t find Thai sticky rice at the supermarket, so I just added regular white sushi rice to a pot of simmering coconut milk (1 full-fat can mixed with ~3 tbsp of coconut sugar, but you can use any sweetener and any amount that suits you. Ours was on the less sweetened size). Cook the rice on medium low and keep adding water until the rice is cooked all the way through, about twenty minutes. Stir and watch the pot to make sure none of it burns and the liquid supply is adequate .

Serve with:

- toasted coconut flakes (shreds will do but the taste of the fat guys really hit the spot and counterpoint the mushy chewiness of the rice)

- big hunks of mango; any will do but the ataulfo/champagne ones (they’re smaller with marigold yellow skins) are especially delicious

[littledebbieharry]

Recipe Round-up

Some stuff I’ve been cooking, been wanting to cook, have loved for a long time

-As a love of the crunchy disc that forms at the bottom of a pot of grains, this crispy rice is a game changer; no parboiling or weird rice-piling techniques, just a little bit of salt and oil, some strategic heating and letting the rice be for a little. (The first time i made it I was so obsessed with not burning the rice that the area where i kept checking the bottom of the pot was devoid of a golden crust. The parts that did have it- oh boy. As long as you keep it on low for the last thirty minutes, you can leave it be, I promise. 

- It’s been a long time since I’ve had smoothies on the regular, but this strawberry one was a welcome return. I didn’t have any milk but it tasted just fine with water to thin it out. I added a bunch of romaine too for extra nutrients and I couldn’t taste it at all (a good thing). I often have problems with smoothies keeping me full, but the addition of oats made it just fine for dinner and then breakfast again the next day. Also really want to make her snack cookie recipe soon. 

- I’m always on the lookout for new banana bread recipes and Stella’s tips look to have the potential to step up my game. Love the addition of coconut oil and while I’ve never heard of someone specifying just-ripe bananas over the black, mushy ones, I trust her enough to give it a try. I also don’t have to wait so darn long for the bananas that way. 

-Harris made an awesome black-eyed pea curry last night with coconut milk, ginger, turmeric, fenugreek, cardamom pods, cherry tomatoes. I don’t have the recipe since he improvised the whole thing, but he let the stew simmer for over two hours on low heat, which really did wonders to the melding of flavors. More time= more flavor. 

-This looks great. Usually not a huge soup fan, but they really sell it. Would replace meat sausage with the Field Roast kind, or just not use it at all. Reminds me of my nonna’s cooking- beans, escarole, garlic, ah.