"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.

Today's the Day

This morning I woke up and it felt like Christmas. “Tonight’s the night!” I told myself before opening my eyes. For months now, it seems, I have been anticipating this day. The day the Harry Potter saga ends.

In keeping with tradition, I will be attending a midnight showing of the final Harry Potter film in the company of my sister, Lindsay, and her longtime friend, Melissa. But, before we hurry off to the cinema to stand in line for hours and then sit in the theater for another hour waiting for the show to start, I think this would be an appropriate occasion to help ourselves to a sweet, decadent (and vegan!) slice of...

Butterbeer-Flavored Golden Snitch Cake

***Warning!!!*** Before starting this recipe, please see the update at the end of this post!

Tools:

One round cake pan for the snitch one non-round cake pan for its wings. I used a heart-shaped pan, but I envision good result ensuing from the use of a rectangular pan.

Ingredients:

for the cake
•1/2 cup soymilk
•2 tsp apple cider vinegar
•2 cups flour
•1 1/2 tsp baking powder
•1/2 tsp baking soda
•1/4 tsp salt
•1/2 cup (1 stick) non-hydrogenated vegan margarine, softened
•1/2 granulated sugar
•1/2 brown sugar, packed
•3/4 cup plain soy yogurt (I use WholeSoy & Co.)
•1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
•1 tsp butter flavoring
•1/2 cup cream soda

for the butterscotch sauce
•4 tbsp (1/2 stick) non-hydrogenated vegan margarine
•1 cup brown sugar, packed
•1/3 cup plain soy yogurt
•1/3 cup soymilk
•1 tsp vanilla extract
•1 to 1 1/2 tsp salt

for the frosting
•1/2 cup (1 stick) non-hydrogenated vegan margarine, softened
•1/3 cup butterscotch sauce (see recipe above)
•1 tsp vanilla extract
•1 1/2 tsp butter flavoring
•1/4 tsp salt
•3 cups powdered sugar
•2 to 3 tbsp plain soy yogurt


Method:

Grease and lightly flour two cake pans. Preheat oven to 350° F.

In a small bowl, combine ½ cup soy milk and apple cider vinegar. Whisk together and then set aside to curdle.

In a medium-sized bowl, combine dry ingredients, from the flour through the salt.

In a large bowl, whip the margarine—by hand or by electric mixer—until light and fluffy. Add sugars and mix well. Stir in yogurt, vanilla, butter flavoring. Add soymilk mixture, cream soda, and dry ingredients. Stir until smooth. Pour into prepared cake pans and bake in preheated oven 24-28 minutes, until a knife inserted into the center comes out clean.

While the cake is baking, prepare the butterscotch sauce:

In a heavy-bottomed sauce pan over medium-low heat, melt the margarine until just melted. Add sugar and stir constantly with a wooden spoon until the mixture is somewhat smooth and not grainy. Add the soymilk and soy yogurt all at once, lower the heat slightly, and combine thoroughly with a whisk. Let the mixture simmer for 10 minutes, whisking regularly. After ten minutes, remove from heat and place in a heat-safe bowl. Mix in vanilla and salt, to taste.

Allow the cakes to cool completely. Then, transfer to a large flat surface, such as a big cutting board. Cut the non-circular-shaped cake in half to form into two wings. Do your best to arrange the pieces so that they most closely resemble your idea of what a golden snitch should look like.

Now it's time to make the frosting. In a large bowl, whip margarine (again, by hand or by electric mixer; whichever you fancy) until light. Mix in butterscotch sauce, vanilla extract, butter flavoring, and salt. Whisk until well combined. Sift in the powdered sugar, one cup at a time, adding the soy yogurt intermittently as well, little by little, until desired consistency is achieved.

Frost the cake and decorate with remaining butterscotch sauce. If you're lucky, you'll have better quality cake-decorating tools than I've got and, if you decide to write any words on your snitch (say, for instance, "I open at the close"), they will be a bit more legible than mine were.

Serve alongside a cold glass of fresh pumpkin juice.

Tuck in!

***Update! 07/15/2011***

Though this cake was certainly very tasty, I do not, after all, recommend that you make this recipe as directed unless you have an exceptionally high tolerance for sugar! As it turns out, I and every one else who had a slice of cake last night had a yucky sort of tummy ache this morning. Too bad.

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.

Butterbeer Trial Number One

Last week, I voiced an interest in experimenting with some Harry-Potter-themed recipes, specifically an intriguing formula for Butterbeer based on an actual Tudor recipe.

Tonight I decided to go for it, halving the recipe in proportion to my level of confidence that I would actually enjoy partaking warm, spiced, sweet, buttery beer.

The result: not horrible. But not wonderful, either. At the first sip, I'm enticed by the smooth, satisfying fat of the butter and the subtle zing of the cloves and ginger, but my initial response of pleasure is quickly counteracted by the realization that the butter does not seem to be properly incorporated into the rest of the beverage. There are beads of oil on the surface and the flavors of the beer and the butter just don't really...go. Still, I'm not repulsed; I've got the glass sitting next to me, nearly empty, and I fully intend to finish it off.

The verdict: this is not exactly the beverage I have in mind when I picture Harry, Ron, and Hermione sitting around a table in the Three Broomsticks. The Butterbeer I imagine is spicier and fuller bodied and, though it has a nominal alcohol content, probably does not taste like beer. But, as the above recipe was based not on Rowling's novels but on an authentic sixteenth-century recipe, I do not feel as though the experiment was a complete loss. Tonight, I've had a little taste of history, and that's rather exciting in itself.

This is my Brain on Harry Potter

I'm not sure if the fact that I hold a degree in English Literature should make me feel more or less apologetic about my love of the Harry Potter books. I've always attempted to justify myself by categorizing them as a "guilty pleasure." However, for the sake of getting through this post, I'm setting the guilt aspect aside and focusing, at least for tonight, on the pleasure.

I'm as excited for the July 15 as any Harry Potter lover. Despite the fact that the last two films have been, in my opinion, unsatisfying, the hype surrounding the end of the film saga and my sentimental allegiance to the story itself are enough to make me completely overlook any shortcomings in the film adaptations. It doesn't matter how much they botch up essential plot elements in favor of gratuitous make-out scenes or how wince-inducing the acting may be at times; I still love it, and I'll still pay whatever they charge to attend one of the midnight screenings.

Here is a picture of my sister, Lindsay, and me, getting ready to leave the house on the evening of November 18, 2010:

In preparation for July 15, I've been rereading the series. I'm in the middle of book four, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, right now. Since the plot no longer holds any mysteries for me as it did the first time around, I'm more than ever drawn into J. K. Rowling's magical world. I'm enchanted and inspired. I want to bring a little bit of the wizarding world to my own mundane life, and I've been thinking up a few ways to make that happen.

For instance, the Weasley family's clock, mentioned the first time in book four, sounds like it could translate very nicely into a fun craft project. But I figured that I wasn't the first person to have that notion, so I did a quick Google search and, sure enough, someone devised a real-life family "clock" that would update the whereabouts of his family members according to his Twitter updates.



Wow. I'm not going to do anything that involved (like I even could), but I may still try a hand at my own interpretation. My version would probably focus more on appearance than functionality (although the one above obviously does an excellent job on both counts).

And, of course, there are a countless number of recipes on the Web aimed at imitating magical food items mentioned in one or more of the books. Certainly not the least appealing of these are the recipes for butterbeer. The standout recipe that I've come across so far has been this one, mostly because it's a real Tudor butterbeer recipe that actually contains both butter AND beer. Judging from the list of ingredients, I'd say there's about an equal chance of it being either surprisingly yummy or downright gross. But I guess we'll just have to try it out and see.

Well, there you have it. I'll continue to contemplate ways to translate inspiring items from the wizarding world into real-life fun and keep you posted if my contemplations lead to anything interesting. And, if this confession of my love of Harry Potter has in fact caused you to lose some respect for me, then...

Obliviate!

Donuts for Dad's Day

The donuts that I started last night turned out okay. I was a little skeptical about the instructions to "use your finger to poke a hole in the middle of each of the mounds to give them a donut-like center," and rightfully so: once the dough had risen, the holes all but disappeared. Still, the consistency and flavor of the end product were pretty good. Not quite as light and delicate as I would have preferred but, still, pretty good. I think I've eaten about eight of them today. Baked donuts, though certainly a little less tasty than their fried counterparts, nevertheless successfully satisfy that donut craving, minus the yucky stomach-achey after affects.

The donuts came out of the oven just in time for a late Father's Day breakfast. My dad grabbed a few and took them out into the back yard with him, so he could munch and work in the garden at the same time.

I have a great dad. I don't think I demonstrate often enough just how grateful I am for all he does. He's such a hard worker, generous, thoughtful, and a good friend. Both my parents have been absolutely amazing these past months, while I've been forgoing searing for a job in order to travel the world or just sit around the house reading a book. They never pressured me or tried to make me feel guilty about taking some time off just for me. They never tutted or made me feel ridiculous after all the times I've changed my mind about what I want to do next with my life. They've given me space. They've let me live in their house. Whether I was thinking I wanted to go to seminary or start a second bachelor's degree, stay in San Diego or backpack around Europe, they've been nothing but supportive. And I appreciate it. Deeply.

Right now I can hear them in the living room, watching 30 Rock on Netflix. I'm also grateful that I'm able to share common tastes with my folks, like our tastes in sitcoms and in donuts. I think I'll close my laptop now and go join them in a little of both.

Fruity-herby muffiny goodness

I rubbed my fingers against a head of lavender and then brought them up to my nostrils. A sweet, elegant aroma. In a stroke of genius, I said to myself, "Imma gonna make a muffin out of that."

Just in time for late spring, with the garden overflowing with fresh lavender and the farmer's market abounding in bright red sugary strawberries, I've formulated a recipe that brings these two things together in the form of a vegan breakfast pastry. These muffins have a sweet but delicate flavor and seem to beg to be consumed alongside a soy latte (which I haven't tried yet but I'm sure they would go together amazingly).

Muffins aux fraises et lavande 

(Yeah, I'm kinda into giving things French names now; deal with it.)

Ingredients:

• 3-4 heads fresh lavender, rinsed and dried (I dried mine in the toaster oven for 30 minutes at 150°F, but air drying is fine, too.)
• 1/2 cup sugar
• 1/4 cup sucanat (or brown sugar, or white sugar)
• 1 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
• 1/2 cup whole wheat flour
• 1 tbsp baking powder
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 1/4 cup vegan margarine
• 1/2 cup unsweetened applesauce
• 3/4 cup soy milk
• 2 tsp vanilla
• 3/4 cup chopped fresh strawberries

Method:

1. Preheat oven to 375°F. Lightly grease at 12-cup muffin tin.

2. Remove lavender blossoms from the stem and place in a food processor with sugar. Mix until the lavender seems to be broken up and the sugar takes on a purplish-greenish tint. Add sucanat (if using), flour, baking powder, and salt and pulse to combine. Cut in the margarine in pieces and pulse until well-combined. Empty the mixture into a large bowl.

3. In a separate bowl, combine the applesauce, soy milk, and vanilla. Mix well. Add wet ingredients to the flour mixture and mix just enough to combine. Fold in strawberries.

4. Fill muffin cups almost to the top. Bake for 30-35 minutes. Allow to cool at least 10 minutes before consuming.

I've been tweeted!

This evening, while checking my page's stats, I was perplexed to find that a great number of the pageviews I'd received over the past few days had been referred through Twitter. Upon further investigation, I found that my very own chocolate cake recipe had received a mention on Whole Soy & Co.'s Twitter page. I'm deeply honored. My cake is practically famous now!

Grounds for Consideration

Due to the burgeoning accessibility of coffee houses that we enjoy here in the United States, I have no shortage of kitschy puns at my disposal with which to colorize the word "grounds." However, in order to spare my readers the burdensome obligation of rolling their eyes repeatedly as they scan the following article, I'm limiting my punning to the title of this post.

Yesterday, Ashley alerted my attention to a recent post from Grace at Design*Sponge. The article details a few creative ways to put old food scraps to creative use.

I was pleased that Ashley thought to share this article with me. For one thing, the fact that she thought of me when she read it indicates that she is a friend who knows me well and who understands that I derive great pleasure from that which is frugal, that which is natural, that which is resourceful. It feels good to be known.

The article was also met with enthusiasm on my part due to its highlighting of one of the potential re-uses of coffee grounds: as an odor absorber in the fridge. I was already aware that coffee grounds could be used as a nitrogen fertilizer in the garden, or as a skin exfoliant, and a quick Google search revealed a plethora of creative methods of repurposing the coffee grounds we might otherwise simply be tossing in the waste bin every morning.

Inspired, I got to the kitchen and quickly whipped up a batch of homemade body scrub. The ingredients:

about half a cup of used coffee grounds, cooled to room temperature
about one tablespoon of brown sugar
a tablespoon or so each of coconut oil and olive oil
a teeny tiny dash of vanilla extract

I took the mixture to the bathroom with me and added a dash of castor oil and a couple drops of lavender essential oil for good measure. At this point, the mixture smelled fantastic. I took it into the shower with me and rubbed it all over my body, focusing on my legs. Reportedly, coffee grounds have potentially beneficial effects on cellulite and varicose veins--two areas I'm not apposed to accepting a little help in.

Naturally, the process was incredibly messy (oh well: I needed to clean my shower anyway); but, me-oh-my, it left my skin looking and feeling awesome (a word I don't just throw around lightly, folks). The amounts I described above left me with roughly enough body scrub for three showers. The oil acts as a preservative, so you don't have to worry about the coffee grounds starting to mold.

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.

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."