"The Best Twenty-five of twenty-five," part IV

16. The best book

No new additions were made in the last year to my list of all-time favorite books. I read some good stuff, just nothing that wowed me to an exceptional extent. Still, of all the books I read for the first time this year, I enjoyed A Moveable Feast, by Ernest Hemingway, the most. What caused it to stand out was a combination of the excellent narrative style and the insightful reflections on the process of writing and observing life in Paris in the 1920's. The fact that I was in Paris while I was reading it didn't hurt, either.

17. The best beat

If it weren't for the new song, "Maracas," by Mates of State, available to listen to on their website as a preview to their upcoming new album, I might have had to have gone with final track on Sufjan Stevens' latest LP, released in October. But now I'm giddy with anticipation of the other new tunes that Mates of State has created. Mates of State is just so good.

18. The best beet

This one:

Dad's "proud" face.

19. The best tomato

The verdict is unanimous: of the six varieties of heirloom tomatoes I grew in the garden this year, the Yellow Brandywine's seeds are the ones most worth saving. A bountiful producer, this monster of a plant outgrew its tomato cage while its neighbor plants were still reaching only about a foot high. The fruit is proportionately gargantuan, attractive in shape and color, and delicious.

20. The best baked goods

I frequently dabble, with mixed results, in creating my own recipes. This year, my greatest triumph was my recipe for strawberry-lavender muffins (muffins aux fraises et lavande), which I made several times throughout the hight of the strawberry season with consistently superb results. I am confident that these muffins will become a late-spring/early-summer staple in years to come.

"The Best Twenty-five of twenty-five," part III

After another late night at work, I'm grateful for this opportunity to assertively focus my attention on positive thoughts, specifically, the most positive things that have happened to me this year.

11. The best decision (possibly ever)

Going to France.

12. Best vacation spot

The South of France.

Is it logical that a place could make me want to have children, just so that I could bring them there and share it with them? In any case, I fully intend to return to the South of France, and the affordable, easy-to-use transit system, vibrant countryside, and warm-spirited people ensure me that, even if I have a family in tow, it would be an ideal travel destination.

13. The best language

French.

14. The best new addition to my culinary repertoire

For some reason, I always assumed that quiche was exceptionally complicated and the method of preparation elusive to my present food-preparatory capabilities. After witnessing it made a few times in the kitchen of the family whose farm I was WWOOFing on, however, I was happy to learn that, with the help of a few eggs, some cream, some good cheese and chopped veggies, and a fresh pie crust, I could whip up the delectable dish and have it out of the oven in less than an hour. If it weren't for the sky-high calorie content, I'd make quiches nearly every day.

15. The best online community

I had heard from several friends who had tried it in the past that CouchSurfing was great, but I never got around to looking into it for myself until right before leaving for France. Though I was, admittedly, a bit concerned over the prospect of staying with complete strangers in their homes--generally, worried more about awkwardness than safety issues--I had nothing but positive experiences with my French hosts. And, since returning to San Diego, each opportunity I've had to welcome CSers into my and my parents' home has been fun, inspiring, and educational. I will never stay in another youth hostel again, if I can help it.

Recent CouchSurfers from Barcelona, Spain

Writer for Hire (?)

Nothing makes me happier than food. Few activities bring me more satisfaction than an hour or two spent in the kitchen, preparing something good to eat. And yet, the idea of cooking on a professional level strikes me a wholly unappealing. I fully suspect that, were I do do it for money rather than sheer pleasure and for strangers rather than friends, family, and myself, the joy I now receive from preparing meals and other tasty treats would rapidly be snatched away. It pertains largely to the removal of the element of independence; I don't want customers telling me what to cook.

I feel a similar way about writing. I've been very resistant to the idea of pandering out my writing skills for cash, taking orders from a boss or client who needs some text on a subject that may or may not be at all interesting. I worry that, were I to spend a significant part of the day writing something that someone else wants me to write, I would have no energy left to spend on writing something I want to write. But desperate times call for desperate measures. As it turns out, a part-time job earning minimum wage is not sufficient to pay the bills. I've had to all but forget about moving out of my parents' place any time soon. So I've created a profile on Elance.com, a website where a friend of mine has formerly been able to find freelance writing jobs. I'm not absolutely confident I'll be able to secure clients there, but, if I do, I'll be more than grateful for the opportunity to supplement my pathetically minuscule bookseller income. In the meantime, I've added the "food / bev / hosp" category to the types of job listings I regularly check on craigslist. As I said, desperate times.

Cooking is the Cure

Though I may come home exhausted, feet and back aching, grumbling about how I hate my job and feeling anxious over the lack of sleep I've been getting these last few days, an hour in the kitchen and the happy discovery that a mixture of pureed prunes, applesauce, and nut butter does indeed make a suitable "wet" base for granola bars brings a whistle to my lips and enough spring in my step for me to leap into bed with the confidence that, when I arise, I will have the strength that I need to face a new day.

Granola Bars

Slowly but steadily, I am eliminating processed foods from my diet. It seemed only natural that the next step would be for me to ween myself off CLIF and start making my own granola bars.

There are some excellent, ethically run, organically focused granola-bar producers out there. CLIF and LUNA Bars are my favorites. What hinders my enjoyment of these products is the waste inevitably incurred through the commercial production, shipping, and packaging process. However, granola bars have become a convenient and reliable option when I need a little extra energy before a trip to the gym or if I simply don't have the time to sit down to a full-course meal; I'm reluctant to find a replacement for them in my diet. Hence, my interest in the more economical and eco-friendly option of making my own.

Last night I tried a granola bar recipe that had received several rave reviews. Indeed, the results were tasty, but that was because the "granola bars" were really more like cookies, very high in fat and sugar and certainly not suitable as an emergency meal replacer if I wasn't looking for a sugar high and subsequent crash. I searched on.

Tonight I experimented with a recipe that takes a much different approach to sweeteners. The natural sugar from mashed bananas makes the granola bars sweet--but not too sweet--without the need for added sugars or sweeteners of any kind. I adjusted the recipe slightly, using a total of one cup's worth of dried blueberries, cranberries, and chopped apricots, about half a cup of chopped almonds, a tablespoon or so of ground flax seeds, and some shredded coconut in addition to the cup of oats and the wet ingredients originally suggested. The results were, I'm happy to report, chewy, yummy, and more than satisfactory.

I wish I could conclude that the second recipe is one I can now add to my repertoire and revisit often; but I can't. Ever since reading Barbara Kingsolver's persuasive argument in Animal, Vegetable, Miracle against buying bananas, I hesitate to purchase fresh fruits or vegetables that I know have traveled tens of thousands of miles before appearing at my local grocery store. I was happy to put to use the browning bananas that my dad purchased over a week ago and were sitting in the fruit bowl, about to go bad. But I don't think I'm going to be buying bananas on a regular basis in order to make my granola bars. No matter how delicious they may be.

My search for the "perfect" granola bar recipe persists. Meanwhile, all this experimenting has given me a bit of a tummy ache.

P.Y.T.

Pie

My mother's favorite treat is boysenberry pie. Every year, around this time, the vines in my parents' back yard overflow with tart, juicy berries. Some of the boysenberries get eaten fresh off the vine. Some get put into plastic bags and stored in the freezer. And some get put into a pie. Today, all three happened. When I was younger, we used to can dozens of jars' worth of preserves, slap them with the label "Janssenberry Jam," and give them away as Christmas gifts. I still sort of think of boysenberries as our berries.

Yoga

My gym recently hired a yoga instructor and I attended one of her classes for the first time today. The class wasn't very good. I spent the time thinking about the last yoga class I went to, during my first weekend in Paris. The girl whose couch I was surfing invited me to come with her. As it turned out, the instructor was Polish, and the class was conducted in English. The instructor was very dainty, had knobby feet, and pretty hair.

Tomatoes

Micah gave me some heirloom tomato seedlings that he didn't have the space to plant. I put them in the ground and they started to grow. I love them. The healthy green color of the leaves is thrilling to me. They haven't yet started to produce fruit, but I'm already bursting with pride over them.

...Donuts...?

I took a nap instead of going for a hike this afternoon and I woke up craving donuts. Which is weird because I'm not a donut person. At all. I think I am drawn to the idea of a donut--the unique shape, the delicate glaze, the zazzy sprinkles--but the gross, greasy, bloated feeling that they invariably leave me with post-consumption has always been enough cause for me to take the unwavering stance that I don't like donuts. But, then again, maybe I still haven't given donuts a fair chance. For instance, I've never had fresh homemade donuts before.

I found this recipe on food gawker (a current obsession) and it appeals to me on account of its being vegan (yay!) and baked (rather than deep fried...does that mean it's still technically a donut?). I expected my parents to scoff at the idea of homemade donuts, as they occasionally do when they find me putting a lot of time and effort into making something that I could just drive down to a corner shop and buy for less than the cost of ingredients; but, to my pleasant surprise, they both commented nostalgically on how their respective mothers used to make donuts for breakfast on occasion and how those donuts were "so good!" Though I worry a bit about my first attempt at donuts being compared to the adept creations of my either of my culinarily masterful grandmothers, I am excited to feel just a little bit more connected to these two matriarchs.

But the process of getting the dough ready for tomorrow morning was a bit involved, and it's quite late. The dough balls are in the fridge now, resting until breakfast time, and I think I ought to follow suit (minus the fridge part; just some rest would be fine).

Chocolate Cake. Period.

Remember the scene from the movie Matilda, based on the children's classic by Roald Dahl? The one where the evil headmistress, Miss Trunchbull, punishes a kid by forcing him to eat an enormous chocolate cake in one sitting? If you ever saw this film as a kid, I'm sure you're rolling your eyes right now and muttering, "Duh. Of course I remember."


Now, remember--despite the fact that the scene was supposed to be gross--how delicious that cake looked? As a child, I didn't even like cake. But when I saw that colossal confection, my mouth watered.

Today I am pleased to share with you a recipe that was inspired by that iconic depiction of decadent deliciousness. Apparently, there is a Roald Dahl cookbook where you can find a more official recipe for "Bruce Bogtrotter's Cake," but my version, which I formulated several years ago, just happens to be vegan. It is also rich, moist, and basically everything the perfect chocolate cake is meant to be.

The Perfect Chocolate Cake (which just happens to be vegan)

Ingredients

• 2 cups sugar
• 1-3/4 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 cup cocoa powder
  
• 1-1/2 tsp baking powder
• 1-1/2 tsp baking soda
• 1 tsp salt
• 1 (6 oz.) container plain soy yogurt, plain or vanilla (I use Whole Soy & Co.)
• 1 cup soy milk or rice milk
• 1/2 cup vegetable oil
• 2 tsp vanilla extract
  
• 1 cup hot water
• chocolate frosting (recipe below)

Method

1. Lightly grease two 9-inch round spring-form cake pans. Preheat oven to 350° F.

2. Sift all dry ingredients into a large bowl. In a separate bowl, mix the soy yogurt, soy milk, oil, and vanilla. Add the wet ingredients to the dry and whisk vigorously until there are no clumps and the batter is smooth.

3. Boil some water. Measure out 1 cup and slowly pour it into the batter as you stir. The batter will be thin.

4. Pour equal amounts into the two cake pans and bake for 30-35 minutes, until a knife inserted into the center comes out clean.

5. Allow the cakes to cool completely before frosting.


Vegan Chocolate Frosting

Ingredients

• 1/2 cup (1 stick) vegan margarine
• 3/4 cup cocoa powder, sifted
  
• 1/3 cup soy milk
• 3 cups powdered sugar
• 1 tsp vanilla extract

Method

1. Melt margarine in a saucepan over low heat. Add cocoa powder and whisk until completely blended.

2. Remove from heat. Alternately add powdered sugar and soy milk, until completely incorporated. Mix in vanilla extract.

3. If a creamier frosting is desired, add a teensy bit more soy milk.

4. Frost cake and enjoy immediately. Fresh frosting is the best frosting.

Friends, enjoy! And pour yourself a tall glass of soy milk: you're gonna need it.

Nabe Flop

According to the cookbook, Japanese Cooking: Contemporary & Traditional, by Miyoko Nishimoto Schinner (from which I derive most of my Japanese recipes), nabemono (hot pot) dishes "are designed for communal eating" (120). Indeed, in light of my experiences eating nabe in Japan, it never would have occurred to me to think of it as a dish that could possibly be enjoyed without a group. Everything about the way it is prepared and served indicates that it is meant to be partaken of communally. So, to me, the very thought of eating it by oneself is laughable.

Yesterday, as it drew near dinnertime and the hour for my family members to begin returning from their respective jobs, I enthusiastically began to chop vegetables and tofu in preparation for a dish I was sure would truly impress. Nabe is the perfect autumn meal; the entire process of preparing and enjoying it warms the body and the spirit. Typically, all the ingredients are cooked together in a large earthenware pot over a portable burner that sits in the center of the table and continues to warm the soup throughout the meal. Generally, this meal lasts a couple of hours.

I don't own a nabe pot, nor do I have a portable burner that can be used indoors. But I figured--no bother--I would simply prepare the soup in a ceramic pot over the stove and bring that to the table. My family and I could keep a lid on it to retain warmth and even reheat it on the stove intermittently, if necessary.

However, much to my dismay, each member of my family, upon returning home, informed me that he or she had a prior engagement that that evening and could not stay for dinner. And so I was left to eat my nabe by myself. Nobody in my family could understand why this should make me laugh and shake my head so much. They, never having partaken of an authentic nabe experience, could not possibly grasp the absurdity of the present situation.

I ate my nabe alone. Kimchee nabe: The best kind. It tasted good, yet everything about it was...wrong.

I need some San Diego friends.

The Best Hummus Recipe Yet

After years of trial and error, at last: a hummus recipe worth sharing. I've yet to perform a side-by-side taste taste to gauge whether it's as good as my favorite store-bought brand, but if you were to throw a few toppings on there--say, some pine nuts, roasted red peppers, and chopped parsley--it would likely surpass the competition.

The main problem with a lot of hummus recipes that I've experimented with in the past is that they call for crushed raw garlic--an ingredient that gives the finished product a flavor that I personally find too intense and spicy. And if I, a devout garlic lover, feel that way, imagine how a picky eater like my mom would respond to it. I've tried substituting fresh garlic with powdered, or using garlic salt instead of regular table salt, but it seems the end result lacks a certain dimension in freshness and texture.

Roasted garlic to the rescue! Yes, roasting the garlic beforehand requires additional time and preparation, but the outcome, I believe, is well worth the effort. This recipe is excellent as is, but it also works well as a canvas for additional flavors and mix-ins.

Triumphant Roasted Garlic Hummus

Ingredients:
• 4-6 cloves freshly roasted garlic
• 1 can chickpeas or 2 cups cooked chickpeas
• 1/2 cup liquid reserved from can or cooking pot
• 2 tbsp tahini
• 2 tbsp olive oil
• juice of 1 lemon
• salt and pepper to taste
• paprika and additional olive oil for garnish

Method:
Allow roasted garlic to cool before proceeding so that you don't burn your fingers. Combine all ingredients through salt and pepper in a blender or food processor and pulse until smooth. Transfer to a bowl and garnish with paprika, olive oil, parsley, pine nuts, roasted red peppers, jalapeños, or what have you.

Enjoy immediately, with some nice crunchy carrot sticks. Or, cover and place in the refrigerator for a few hours. I don't know if this is really a thing; but, in my head, this allows the flavors to "set."

We're going to slice a face on his belly!

The grass is always greener on the other side. Unless, of course, you live in San Diego and the grass is insipidly lush all year round. But in Japan right now, I know that the leaves on the ginko trees are turning a stunning yellow. And that knowledge, paired with the gloomy-rainy weather we've been having in Southern California the last few days, puts me in a happy, autumny mood.

It was in such spirits that I took a paring knife in hand this evening and went to work on a lovely sized pumpkin with a perfectly gnarled stem. Lindsay sat beside me at the kitchen table, working magic on her own bulbous gourd. The results were two gnomish visages, appropriately reflective of Lindsay and my respective styles. Dad was able to guess whose is whose right away. Can you? (*answer below)


And now I sit, enjoying handfuls of freshly roasted pumpkin seeds, the delightful aroma of which has filled the kitchen and living room. The only thing missing from this picture is a mug of steaming mulled wine, an omission which is scheduled to be remedied tomorrow evening.

Happy autumn, all!

*Jack-o-lanterns: the aghast one on the left is mine; the inanely pleased one on the right is Lindsay's.

Check

Today I accomplished one of my life goals.

It is on this day, September the eighth, two-thousand-and-ten, that I, Meghan Elizabeth Janssen, have, for the first time in my very own kitchen, made cheese.



Yes! I made cheese! The procedure basically followed the instructions outlined on the website, Food Wishes, with the small exception that I used goat's milk instead of cow's milk and plain yogurt instead of buttermilk. Pretty good, eh?

The recipe and method for making this type of cheese is relatively quick and simple. Still, after having heard laments of disaster and disappointment from friends who had dabbled extemporaneously in fabrication du fromage, I was prepared for my first attempt to end in utter failure. And yet, miraculously, as I stood above the pot observing, the curds separated from the whey and formed a soft, mild, very fresh and yummy cheese (yes, I am gloating a little)!

Perhaps the next step is to mailorder some rennet or live cultures or something and try my hand a something slightly trickier. Maybe I will try to find a home cheesemaking class to attend. Either way, today marks a momentous baby-step toward another one of my (tentative) life goals: owning goats.

Vegan Raspberry Chocolate Muffins

Once upon a time I imagined that I was some sort of superior cook. This was mostly just because I tended to spend a lot of time cooking. Then I come back to America and suddenly it seems that all of my friends have been spending a lot of time cooking, too. And they all seem to be pretty good at it. So, oh well, there's one more reason why I'm not all that special, but I made these vegan raspberry chocolate muffins tonight and they were delightful.

So delightful, in fact, that I didn't even think to take a picture until after I'd already eaten two of them.