a thousand words

Here I am in grad school. I am still eating. I am still in love with vegetables.

This autumn I specifically fell in love with romanesco broccoli and chanterelle mushrooms, from the farmer's market and self-foraged respectively.

I am working very part time at KBCS, the local community radio station. Every time I turn around, I reel over a new voice. Some of my favorites this year were

Raphael Saadiq,

Pieta Brown,

Zoe Muth and The Lost High Rollers,

and
Edward Sharpe and The Magnetic Zeros.

I go to school every day and talk about oppression and racism and sexism and privilege and politics and poverty and homophobia and able-ism and wealth and equity and love and ethics. It's overwhelming, but a great luxury all the same. Sometimes it feels hard to come up for a breath out of it all. But I promise I'm still eating.

Crostini with roasted garlic and carmelized onion white bean dip,
basil, and cherry tomatoes, kalamata olives, and roasted red pepper.

subsistence

Autumn has officially arrived, but I'm still scrambling to the farmer's markets for the final berries of the season. Though berries should be relished in their naked, sweet beauty, they also go awfully well in baked goods. And because this blog has seemingly defaulted into very occasional showcases for sweets, I give you...fruit...on cupcakes.


I happened upon this, my favorite cupcake, last year in an attempt to perk up some birthday fare with spare blueberries. I arrived at the perfect concoction of spicy gingerbread, creamy vanilla bean frosting, and fresh, bursting blueberries. I can't express how much I love these things. I am a staunch advocate of leaving most of the baking for the blustery winter months when a hot oven is a welcome addition to a chilly apartment. But because fresh fruit is a summertime indulgence, the oven is turned on in reverence for the seasonal window when I can adorn cakes with the perfect garnish.


Cherries are not berries, of course, but they are a fruit which I do my darnedest to fill up on before they've disappeared for another year. These chocolate cherry creme cupcakes were the finale in the four dozen donated to an auction winner for Northwest Network. Dark chocolate cupcakes filled with saucy cherries and vanilla buttercream. Shamefully, I didn't log two batches of cupcakes: I also made another round of Fauxstess cupcakes and followed those with chocolate cupcakes filled with peanut butter buttercream. Auction winners like their chocolate, I suppose.

Needless to say, I've fallen awfully behind in these blogging endeavors. Other things have been keeping my attention.

cupcakes for a cause, season 2

45 minutes spent cracking hazelnuts.

For the second year, I donated four dozen vegan cupcakes to an auction for the Northwest Network of Bi, Trans, Lesbian, and Gay Survivors of Abuse. Last years cupcakes raised $120. I was just pleased to break a hundred. This year, I busted out the big spoons and, as evidenced above, spent a Saturday morning putting blood and sweat into a damn fine dozen of cupcakes.

Hazelnut Cupcakes with Hazelnut Mocha Mousse,
Ganache, and Toasted Hazelnuts

And it paid off; this years cupcakes brought $175 in the live auction. And apparently, another mysterious baker donated a matching set, although I'm not exactly sure how that worked. At any rate, it's still a screaming deal. Each cupcake comes to just above $3.60, hand delivered with aplomb. The hazelnut troops I baked for the auction were amazing (thanks to the reigning queen of vegandom.) So much so, that I had to make a second batch a week later. And I'd like to think that the flavor bursting from these little bombs was thanks to their made-from-scratch attitude. Not only were the hazelnuts cracked out of their shells instead of poured from a stale plastic bag, but they were toasted and then pulsed into meal for the cake (also, I'm frugal and didn't want to spend 10 dollars on a bag of hazelnut meal of which I needed only a fraction.) So, indeed they were worth every penny that went to the Northwest Network.

tides turning

Cake.

I'm in love with food. I could spend hours scrutinizing over the details of a menu. There is nothing I would rather spend my money on. There is nothing that I find so satisfying as feeding my friends and family.

I've felt more interested and involved in my food than ever. But as I'm buying raspberries out of season and spending $30 on a bottle of balsamic vinegar, there is a food crisis going on. While I'm baking a yellow cake, frosting it with vanilla buttercream, and feeding those untimely berries to my friends at a birthday party, others are eating cakes made from dirt and oil in hopes of evading the pangs of starvation while the price of rice skyrockets around the world. At my job, I talk to people who need to know which food banks are open, how to apply for food stamps, or where to go for a hot meal. And even when they can manage to receive public assistance, they can't stretch those food stamps far enough.

Access is everything. And because I have it, I want to help others to get it. I want to bake cakes; I want to plant a garden; I want to buy the freshest vegetables I can get my hands on. I want to stomp on the rules that keep everyone from having this access. Changing public policy around food security issues; changing the face of agriculture to re-harness power for small farmers; providing nutrition outreach to low-income communities where convenience stores are more prevalent than supermarkets with fresh foods.

There is much to be done.

All of this is to say that my relationship to food is evolving. I can't sit still in my own kitchen, my own garden, my own co-op. There is an incredible imbalance going on in the world and I won't feel right if I'm not trying to change that.

the autumn that was eaten by time

I suppose I owe an update. I started a new job in late August at Seattle's Crisis Clinic. I like my job, especially the folks I work with, but it has me plastered to a computer and telephone most days. As such, I'm not much for coming home and spending my free time in front of a screen. Rest assured, I have been cooking and baking and, yes, I have been eating. The holidays rushed by and we made batches and batches of cookies, cake, and appetizers. Of course, I have no pictures to show, save one. But while I may not have documented just what we made, ate, and gave away, I'd still like to touch on a few events that stood out for me in the last few months of 2007 (naturally, all food related.)

the greatest cookbook of all time

Isa Chandra Moskowitz and Terry Hope Romero made this world a better place with the unveiling of Veganomicon. It's as if Vegan With a Vengeance and the Better Homes and Garden Cookbook had a beautiful, fuss-free baby. Thus far, I can highly recommend the Caesar Salad with Roasted Garlic Croutons, the Black Bean Burgers (even better after a spell in the freezer--how many recipes can you say that about?!), Roasted Eggplant and Spinach Muffuletta Sandwich, Black Bean Vegetable Soup, Spicy Tempeh and Broccoli Rabe with Rotelle, and the Pumpkin Crumb Cake. Absolutely amazing. So far, I've also given away two copies as gifts. If you knew what was good for you, you'd get yourself this book too.

I don't have pictures because I was too damn busy cooking, but Thanksgiving was, to put it lightly, an event. My parents in their first holiday season as vegans, were slated to cook Thanksgiving Dinner for 35 people. Chris and I were put to work. We were like a well-oiled machine. A very messy, flustered well-oiled machine with 35 guests milling around us while we put the finishing touches on a huge feast. It wasn't, unfortunately, entirely vegan or even vegetarian. There was a turkey or two and a few potluck dishes here and there that made their way to the buffet. Some of my aunts and uncles pitched in with herbivore dishes, but mostly we banged out a pretty, pretty, pretty good selection of dishes: 2 sorts of stuffing--one with Gimme Lean and the usual mix of veggies, one with herbed croutons, dried cranberries, dried blueberries and pistachios, pumpkin seed crusted tempeh, fresh cranberry relish, roasted garlic mashed potatoes, mushroom gravy, homemade rolls, green bean casserole, cheesecake with raspberry sauce, pumpkin pie with candied pecans, and peanut butter silk pie. And probably some other things that I'm forgetting. It was a helluva lot of food and people. But by now, feeding a crowd is second nature to us (almost.)

The day after Thanksgiving, my grandma, Corriene, turned 85. She is partially responsible for the onslaught of relatives that my holidays become--she has six children and countless grandchildren (and, for that matter, 12 stepchildren and more countless grandchildren.) She is an incredible lady whom I've mentioned once or twice before. She raised lots of kids, fed them well, made their clothing, and taught them to be stand-up people. But that's what you can expect from my grandmother.

Here's my dad blowing out the candles on a cake that my grandma undoubtedly made for his birthday. Like most large families, food was always a focal point at gatherings. Her 85th was no disappointment; we converged after having eaten our guts out the day before and rose to the challenge of doing it one more time, just for grandma. My dad put together a slide show of old pictures (like the one above) and it ran in the background while everyone ate, drank, and sat a little too close together.

Here are her first five children all lined up for a holiday snapshot. I didn't make it home for Christmas this year, spending it instead with the in-laws. A small, quiet day for the most part--a nice change of pace from dozens of relatives, though I did miss being at home with my folks. Chris and I, as is the norm, baked up a crazy mess of treats to shuttle around to our friends, mail to other states, and take piles in to our respective jobs. We made chocolate chip cookies, pistachio baklava, soft molasses cookies, oatmeal jam thumbprints, fig bars, and sugar cookies. We ate more than our share of sweets and still had leftovers!

You may be thinking this is all heresy. Flimsy claims to have made all this food with no photos to back them up. Well, then. I was able to snap a photo of a dessert made for some lovely friends' "Boozy After-Holiday Extravaganza." We were subjected to lots of delicious vegan desserts, lots of, you guessed it, booze, and lots of friends. It was a fine evening. My contribution was a tiramisu, procured from the pages of the Candle Cafe cookbook and tweaked to suit my own tastes.


Layers of sponge cake drenched in coffee and rum, vegan mascarpone, cocoa powder and chocolate curls for good measure. And it sat perfectly on a lovely tray that was a gift from my bestest gal.

Now, don't expect much from this small gesture of a post--moving apartments is in the works for the next few days and being in transit doesn't make for very elaborate dinners or desserts. We'll only be moving a few blocks away and one of the most exciting bits of our new apartment: a full-size oven. Take that, tiny little stove! Unfortunately, this will be my first apartment without a bit of space on a deck where I can grow some greenery. In homage to my garden and in commemoration of the oncoming shorter days and (bit by bit) warmer weather, I'll give you one more photo of my last little heirloom tomatoes (two of just a few that made it out alive) from this summer.


(For a couple 2007 recaps that are a little more thought out than the previous, see Democracy Now! and Feministing. Happy 2008!)

the baby of cakes

Clearly this blog has fallen by the wayside. I've a new job that's keeping me busy and our oven is not working which has put us on baking hiatus. But one event that did happen this month ,which I was able to bang out a cake for, was my niece's first birthday.

It's not often that I have an excuse to make a giant cake. (This was the equivalent of 48 cupcakes.) Four layers of vanilla cake, vanilla buttercream, blackberry preserves, and colored sprinkles! An abundance of pink, yes. Aside from upholding gender paradigms (gotta start em early, right?), I wanted to make the quintessential big birthday cake. And in the cartoons, they're always white with pink frosting. They're also usually two or three tiers, but I didn't figure a one-year old needed that much cake.

Especially since she was really only interested in the frosting.

looking for something

In beginning to document my food, I've learned I do things in seasons. When it is cold, wet, blustery outside, I make the indoors cozy with the scent of cookies or soup. I can spend an evening on a cake or cooking food for a party. I'll labor in the kitchen because there is no other place I'd rather be. That is, unless the sun is shining and my time is open and my head is aching from the city. Then I'll take green green green as far as the eye can see. I will point to this weekend as a perfect example. Best friends with their backpacks stuffed into a small car driving into the woods is better than pie. Hiking miles into the wilderness on a dusty trail is better than cupcakes. And just about anything you can cook on a whisperlite stove tastes better by the campfire.

Red Onion, Green Pepper, Avocado, & Tomato

I'll take the woods over concrete buildings any day you ask. And if I'm living in the woods (even just for a night) out of the back of a car, I won't complain. Backpacking, though, has a special charm. It makes one feel resourceful and tough. You have to think more, make lists, pack sparingly because you must carry it all on your back, on your own two legs. This is true especially of the food you take. Whereas packing in a car, you can add bags of chips, boxes of cookies, and bottles (and bottles) of wine, the food you take in your backpack must be more closely calculated. On this trip, a one-night stay near Greenwater, Washington, on the Pacific Crest Trail, we took a small supply of trail mix, Primal Strips, apples, crackers, hummus, and the fixings for burritos.

We "roasted" a green pepper and red onion. In this, I mean we laid them on the rocks around our campfire until we could stand our growling stomachs no longer. They were just beginning to blacken at the edges. We warmed our tortillas in a similar fashion and boiled water to add to instant black beans. With a small can of salsa to round out the burritos, it was some of the best damn camping food I've had. Everyone ate their fill and it was a perfect meal to top off a three-mile hike.

Just because we were backpacking, does not mean we should go without a sweet trifle after dinner. One chocolate bar split four ways and a few sips of coffee went well with the trance of flames.

Cream & Peebs, sans backpacks

The next day, after eating the last bits of our food and packing our bags, we trekked the three miles back to the car and drove East for some sightseeing. We hiked a few more trails in search of a view of the mountain and, though it felt especially nice to walk without thirty pound packs, our short jaunt yielded little, but more trees and a beautiful blue sky. So back in the car and, after a minute or so of driving, we hit the jackpot:

Mt. Rainier

We couldn't have asked for better weather and it was all around a perfect trip. After the first full week at a brand new job that can, at times, make my head spin, this was a badly needed detour from Seattle. And hopefully illustrates to you an agreeable alternative to things like baking and blogging.

cupcakes for a cause: the final dozen

Mint Chocolate Chunk Cupcakes
with Vanilla Mint Buttercream

Long overdue, here's a photo of the last batch of cupcakes I made for the Summer of Cupcakes Auction Winner to benefit the Northwest Network of Bi, Trans, Lesbian, and Gay Survivors of Abuse. Dark chocolate cupcakes with mint extract and roughly chopped bars of Endangered Species Dark Chocolate with Deep Forest Mint, topped with minted buttercream and another wedge of chocolate for good measure.

With all the auction cupcakes ferried away I have to bake for selfish reasons now. Like my own stomach. Thankfully, I'm armed with a circle of friends, sweet tooths all of them.

sweet valley high

One weekend last month, we went on an adventure with two dear friends; our goal was simple--find wine and drink it. Chris and I drove to the oasis of Olympia where we were treated to a fine, heaping barbecued dinner straight off the grill and a huge bottle of wine. With the question of where exactly we wanted to look for wine looming before us, it only made sense to sip the stuff while we pondered our next day's journey.

In the last decade, Washington wineries have been sprouting up in every nook and cranny of the state. From Olympia, we could toss a rock in any direction and it might hit a bottle (granted, we'd have to be able to toss really far.) After considering going south to Oregon, north to Skagit Valley, and various Eastward routes, we settled on one destination: the Yakima valley.

Although we set out to make a weekend of wining, it seemed to me that we spent more time deliberating over food. As a vegan (or even vegetarian), eating anywhere to the east of the Cascade Mountain Range, can prove difficult. After searching downtown and eschewing a ritzy, inauthentic Mexican joint, we fell upon this gem: Tequila's. Located in two old train cars with a big wooden deck surrounding the restaurant, we ate our fill of chips with salsa and pico de gallo. What's more, the vegetarian section of the menu offered more than just the requisite burrito: i.e. the elusive veggie chimichanga.

And now, food aside, let me tell you about our bittersweet trips to the wineries. Our first destination was Sagelands Vineyard. Everything we tasted was great, the woman who helped us was terribly friendly (so friendly that she was telling us about her laser arm pit hair removal!), and the showroom was devoid of the cheap kitsch that some wineries tend toward.

I could really get behind this place if not for one little detail that got under my skin. It seemed wonderful at first--they were offering snacks in return for a donation to the Humane Society of Central Washington. I was pleased as punch until I began to inspect the snacks. The food that really bothered me was set out on a plate next to the register closest to the donation can--mini hotdogs. Offering dead animals as a means to secure donations for other animals is such a backwards, disconnected practice of hypocrisy.

I didn't say anything and Chris still bought two bottles of their wine--Merlot and a blended Red Table Wine. But, suffice it to say, we probably won't be going back there.

Merlot from Sagelands Vineyard
with Poppies and Persian Violets from our garden

The second winery we visited, Windy Point, had a beautiful view of the valley. And that's about the nicest thing I can say about it. I would've liked their wine, would've even bought a bottle or two, but we were snubbed for a bachelorette party in summery, spaghetti-strap dresses. I guess our tattoos and jeans weren't up to their expectations.

But thankfully, a good time is not made in purchases. On our way home, we stopped at fruit stands for peaches, berries and corn and took a detour to make a scenic trek up through a pitch-black cave in the Wenatchee National Forest. And then, finally back in Olympia, we bookended the trip with one last barbecue. In spite of the snooty winery and nasty hot dogs, it was a lovely weekend all in all.

one more garden shot: Persian Violets (or Love in a Mist)

cupcakes for a cause: part 3

Fauxstess Cream Filled Cupcakes

The third installment of vegan-cupcakes-as-auction-prize for Northwest Network. This week: the final dozen (mint chocolate chunk.)

If you have a moment, read Emilie's post on (200+ amazing) cupcakes for a cause and her thoughts on veganism and animal testing.

After a busy month of leaving town nearly every weekend and spending as many afternoons in the sun as time would allow, I've finally got some spare moments. The weather is cooling today and the ripe bananas on my table tell me some bread is in the works. Perhaps you'll be seeing a bit more of me. Or rather, a bit more of my food.

like a year without summer

Summertime meals beckon to be eaten outside and I find myself preferring portable dinners in weather that just can't be wasted at the dinner table. While pasta is nothing extraordinary and not quite fit for a beach picnic, it is portable insofar as my back porch is concerned. This was the perfect meal for a July evening. Linguine with tomato sauce (the simplest I've made in a long time and perhaps one of the best--canned tomatoes and paste with sauteed onion and garlic, salt and pepper, a dash of brown sugar, and garden fresh herbs--rosemary, thyme, oregano and basil) and mixed greens with balsamic vinaigrette. The key here to a perfect dinner, if one so desires and against what MFK Fisher advises, is a quiet back porch, two or three chairs (two at least for you and a loved one to settle into, an optional third as a table or cat perch) and a good glass of wine to sip after you've cleaned your plate. Preferably, wine will be taken with a green view of your garden, though a patch of grass or a blooming window box will do as well. No TV blaring, no lawnmowers growling, and no talk of work. Just food and wine and air.

salad, salud

Produce from our Full Circle Farm CSA box: baby bunch carrots, celery, broccoli, green beans, sunburst squash, roma tomatoes, purple onions, cauliflower, red beets, romaine lettuce, garnet yams, limes, and cherries.

It's my mum's birthday today (first as a vegan!) and, though there are no cupcakes to show for it, here's a brightly colored salad. That's festive, right? If you squint your eyes it sort of looks like confetti. Confetti with beans... Happy birthday, Mom.

Fresh Corn Pico de Gallo
(dressed up here as a salad
with pinto beans, lettuce, and avocado)

I could eat this every damn day. It's certainly a summer dish, one that should be thrown together when you can find corn on the cob in season (or in your garden!) You can mix black or pinto beans into it for a little added protein.

Fresh Corn Pico de Gallo
makes 6-8 cups

2 ears yellow corn on the cob, husked
4 tomatoes, diced
1 sweet onion, diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 bell pepper (orange, red, or green: you pick!)
2 cups finely shredded green cabbage
4 oz. pickled jalepenos, diced (reserve juice)
juice of 2 limes
salt and freshly ground pepper
large bunch cilantro, chopped

Bring salted water to a rolling boil. Cook corn for 8 min; remove and let cool until easily handled. Using a sharp knife, shave kernels from cob. Add fresh corn to large bowl with remaining ingredients. Salt and pepper to taste (though I recommend heavy on the pepper.) Let chill 4 hours or overnight. Tastes best next day. Serve with tortilla chips.

you would find them smiling

Summer months are not so conducive to bloggery. More so, the hot months are best used out of doors, in parks or on porches, drinking iced beverages and eating picnics. And growing green things. None of which call for a computer, as evidenced by my lack of posts. Further evidence:

Exhibit A: Nasturtiums.

Edible petals that I have, thus far, preferred to look upon in their red and green backyard patch. Rather than eat them, that is.

Exhibit B: Strawberries.

Less sweet than their supermarket brethren, the flavor in these small berries is richer and redder off the vine than out of plastic.

Exhibit C: Picnic Food.

Tempeh Bacon Pocket Sandwiches
with Romaine Lettuce, Tomato, & Avocado
Spring Potato Salad

(pictured on the table, but taken
with some evening sun on the porch.)

Spring Potato Salad

8 medium red potatoes, cooked and cubed
1 bunch radishes, roughly chopped or quartered
2 stalks celery, trimmed and chopped
2 dill pickles, chopped
12 oz. firm tofu, crumbled
3/4 cup tofu mayo (Vegenaise!)
3 tablespoons yellow mustard
1 teaspoon celery seed
1 teaspoon dried dill
1/2 teaspoon paprika
small handful fresh parsley, chopped
salt & pepper

Mix the Vegenaise, mustard, celery seed, dill, paprika, parsley, and salt and pepper to taste. Mix in the tofu and then toss with the remaining ingredients. Chill a few hours or overnight.

cupcakes for a cause: part 2

I lied. I said no more sweets and what do I do? I make cupcakes. I swear I've been eating real food; it just hasn't been very noteworthy. Cupcakes are always noteworthy. These are especially so as they were the second dozen in an auctioned-off set to benefit Northwest Network of Bi, Trans, Lesbian and Gay Survivors of Abuse.

This is one of a dozen lavender-infused chocolate cupcakes with vegan cream cheese frosting. The granulated sugar in the cupcakes and the powdered sugar in the frosting sat for a couple days mingling with dried lavender flowers. I'd never used lavender as a culinary ingredient and I was pleasantly surprised with the effect it had, though it was almost too subtle in the chocolate to even detect its presence. The cream cheese frosting showed it off nicely however (inspired by lovely cupcakes elsewhere.)

But really, next post won't be cupcakes. Or cake in any form. It won't even contain any damn sugar! Promise.

(On a side note, though it clearly wasn't for the occasion, this cupcake is vicariously dedicated to my dad who had his first birthday as a vegan yesterday. He celebrated with tofu and veggies, like any good herbivore. Next up for a vegan birthday: my mum...)

eat yr greens

Our first CSA box in a month of being out of town far too much: bunched carrots, red radishes, Ataulfa Mango, yellow spring onions, baby bok choy, black plums, pears, garnet yams, celery, red beets, snap peas, romaine lettuce, and spinach.

cake or death

One would think that I subsist on cake and cake alone.

Rasberry Coconut Layer Cake
with Coconut Buttercream

Sometimes cake is needed for no reason at all. Case in point: some homemade raspberry preserves that had sat in my cupboard for too long, begging to be baked into something sweet. The cake was coconut milk-based with whole raspberries and shredded coconut folded in and then filled with preserves.

Grandma's Texas Sheet Cake
(gratuitous full sheet shot)

This was another go at sheet cake (not that the first wasn't good to the last crumb.) Although this one gets an honorable mention because it was served with good tea to my grandmother, from whence the original recipe came.

Sugar Soldiers:
Apple Spice Cupcakes with Cream Cheese Frosting
Lemon Cupcakes with Lemon Buttercream

And though these aren't anything new, especially in the spreading cupcake-craze, I still think nothing beats the cupcake for a small package with punch. They're hand-held, boast a perfectly proportioned frosting to cake ratio, and damn cute to boot.

We're getting a box of veggies tomorrow, so perhaps I'll have something besides sweets to show for it.

all green

the first peas

There's something infinitely comforting about tending to a garden. Pulling sucker leaves off a tomato plant or weeding a parsley patch. There are not a great many things that will make me forget that I live in a city of half a million people. Reminders abound in the traffic on the street, the views of cramped buildings, the overcrowded lines at the market. My backyard, though, is a respite from the constant bombardment of people people people. Focusing on something as minuscule as a violet's first sprouting leaves is my salve. And finding the first sweet peas of the summer is more intoxicating than drowning in the beer and buzz of any swarming city bar.

all the greatest things are simple

Texas Sheet Cake

This may not look like much. Sure, it lacks swirls of frosting, layers upon layers of delicate cake, and sparkling garnishes. And though I'm sentimental about it, as it was another of my grandmother's tried and true recipes--the requisite Fourth of July Barbeque dessert, it really is the perfect down-home, fork-free cake. This is what you eat sitting in the grass, your fingers smeared with chocolate, and the sun burning your nose. Chocolate cake, plain and simple. Take it to a picnic, barbeque, or horde the entire 18 x 13 inch cake for your own grubby little hands. Oh, and lest I forget to mention, pictured with the cake is a scoop of unbelievably amazing vegan cookie dough ice cream.


Texas Sheet Cake
serves a whole buncha people

1/2 cup soy margarine (Earth Balance)
1 cup water
4 tablespoons cocoa powder
1/3 cup canola oil
1 1/2 cups unrefined sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 pkg silken tofu (Mori Nu), blended well
1 teaspoon baking soda
2 cups all purpose flour

Lightly grease a 18" x 13" jelly roll pan. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.

In a medium saucepan, combine margarine, water, and cocoa powder. Bring just to a boil and remove from heat. Let cool slightly and carefully pour into a large bowl (that won't melt. Don't use plastic.) In a small bowl, whisk oil, sugar, blended tofu and salt together. Whisk into cocoa/water mixture until well combined. Using a whisk or fork, stir baking soda into flour and then fold this into the wet ingredients until just combined. Pour out into greased pan and spread evenly with a spatula. Bake in center of oven for 20 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean. Prepare icing while cake cools on rack.

Texas Icing

1/2 cup soy margarine (Earth Balance)
4 tablespoons cocoa powder
4 tablespoons soy milk
1/2 lb powdered sugar, sifted
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 cup chopped walnuts

Heat margarine, cocoa powder, and soy milk in heavy saucepan over medium. Whisk until melted; remove from heat. Stir in sugar, one cup at a time until combined. Stir in 1/2 cup walnuts. Pour over warm cake and spread carefully with a spatula. Sprinkle on the remaining nuts.

(For the sake of posterity, I will mention that the original recipe uses sour cream and scads of butter. I've also made this cake using vegan versions and exact measurements of "sour cream", margarine, and egg replacer. I've found that using tofu in lieu of sour cream and eggs works wonderfully, as well as replacing a bit of the butter with oil, so that the use of processed goods is toned down just a touch.)

slave to the kitchen

Potato Samosas with
Three Seed Braised Cauliflower and Wild Rice

I did not make any of these recipes up. The samosas are from Vegan With a Vengeance, as is the cauliflower, sort of. I decided not to add tomatoes to it and referred to the recipe a bit while making it up as I went. I also made a tamarind chutney to go with the samosas. All in all, nothing terribly creative on my part. However, I felt the need to post a picture because this meal somehow took me three effing hours to make. So, you know. Just a little something to show for my troubles.

plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches

Carrots, cauliflower, green bell pepper, sweet onions, Gala apples, red potatoes, salad greens, snow peas, celery, yellow peaches, Abate Fetel pears, purple garlic, and mango. Nearly the end of May and we're coming into true CSA season. Go find one near you.

It's also the season for Farmer's Markets. Seattle has several and on Sunday we went to the Broadway Market. It was a drizzly morning (thankfully, only a rainy punctuation in a long row of sunny days) so we didn't spend too much time there. I was pleased to find that the market was clearly focused on food and not overpriced hippy artistry (all well and good in its own place, but not necessarily something I want to navigate while I'm gazing at local foods.) We bought a jar of spicy pickles from an older couple giving out samples of their jams, jellies, and pickled treats. And we couldn't pass up some beautiful heirloom tomatoes from a farm in Ellensburg.

The signal that summer produce is about to come pouring in. Pictured is a Black Krim, Green Zebra, and...I don't remember which particular yellow tomato this is. We have some starts growing for Brandywine, Costoluto, Persimmon, and Black Krim varietals in the back yard. But that's a drop in the ocean of heirlooms. If you can find heirloom tomatoes, eat them as simply as possible to taste the delicate flavors. We cut them up and tossed them fresh with pasta and tempeh sausage. Eaten on the porch with a glass of wine in the cooling evening and reading a book for dessert is just about the nicest meal I can think of.