Have you ever sighed silently when someone told you they were a vegetarian, assuming they were a dogmatic, tofu-eating hippie? If so, read this essay by Taylor Clark on Slate, debunking various anti-vegetarian myths. No, vegetarians are not (necessarily) dull-palated, content to eat mushy vegetables and Gardenburgers. No, most vegetarians aren't interested in lecturing you about your steak (unless they're just jerks), so feel free to invite them to your barbecue. No, they're not silently judging you.
So don't lecture them about how being a vegetarian is silly, bad for your health, or against God's will. And no, just because they're wearing leather shoes doesn't make them total hypocrites - "I'd still say that doing something beats doing nothing," he writes. "It's kind of like driving a hybrid: not a solution to the global-warming dilemma but a decent start."
Mom made you eat your veggies for years, so return the love with vegetarian-friendly gifts this Mother's Day. Whether her diet is strictly vegetarian or just veggie-inclined, check out these lovely presents that will surely brighten her kitchen and her day!
Subscription to Vegetarian Times magazine -- Great recipes and fun eating ideas from a magazine that your mom will love all year long.
Mother's Day petit fours from Figis -- Who am I kidding? These are for any mom -- vegetarian, meat-loving, herbivorous, sweet-toothed... Olive and Rosemary Topiary Trees from Stonewall Kitchen -- A beautiful way to present a practical gift. These will look great anywhere, and come in handy when cooking with fresh herbs.
Bamboo steamer from WokShop -- Great for veggies, and anything else.
Mark Bittman's How to Cook Everything Vegetarian from Amazon -- My favorite cookbook. Soon to be your mom's. Bittman offers easy recipes and plenty of suggestions for a well-balanced vegetarian diet.
Soy candles from Welcome-home Candles -- These yummy candles come in great scents, and since they aren't made from beeswax, they'll please even the most conscious vegan. Vegan baking mixes from Goodbaker -- Chocolate cake, oatmeal cookies, fudge frosting, multi-grain muffins...
Anyone have more ideas for the vegetarian Mom? Feel free to share!
Globe artichokes are in season, their spiky green heads peeking out of produce bins, their petals vaguely purple-tinged. Artichokes have long been one of my favorite foods, the special thing my mother would make when I came home from summer camp or on my birthday. But for years, the reason I really loved the artichoke was for its capacity as spoon for melted butter - when else can you publicly scoop tablespoons of hot, salty fat into your mouth, without anyone blinking an eye?
These days I appreciate the artichoke in a variety of preparations, sometimes even swapping the melted butter for vinaigrette or aioli. Perusing the Internet for new recipes, I stumbled upon a treasure trove of ideas at The Gutsy Gourmet, and thought I'd share. There are recipes for Italian stuffed artichokes, Roman fried artichokes, artichoke and crab dip, prosciutto and artichoke sandwiches with rosemary mayonnaise (I am considering having a picnic this week, just for an excuse to make these), and more. Any favorite artichoke recipes from you guys?
The Jerusalem artichoke (Helianthus tuberosus L.) is not from Jerusalem, nor is it an artichoke. The tuber also known as the sunchoke is the root of a type of sunflower native to North America, and was a staple food for early European immigrants. It may have gotten its name from these pilgrims, who considered America the "New Jerusalem," or it may be a bastardization of the Italian word girasole, meaning sunflower. Once considered a "poor man's food," the Jerusalem artichoke is experiencing a bit of a renaissance as of late.
The veggie resembles a finger of ginger root, with a nutty, starchy taste, somewhere between potato and artichoke. They can be found in the produce section of some supermarkets (I've seen them lots of times, I just never knew what they were!). The Jerusalem artichoke can be used like other root vegetables such sweet potatoes, carrots and parsnips, diced and tossed in stew, roasted with herbs, or pan-fried with butter. Check out this Epicurious recipe for Jerusalem artichoke with sage butter.
I'd just gotten into my winter vegetable routine - roasting acorn squash halves with mustard and maple syrup, braising cabbage with caraway seeds and a dash of apple cider vinegar, grating endless bags of carrots for sweet-and-sour carrot and raisin salads. And now, here we are, spring again. Lamb's lettuce, tentative chives, delicate asparagus. So why not take advantage of the season with a simple, springtime vegetable recipe?
Here's a recipe for marinated early spring vegetables, adapted from chef Phil West of Range in San Francisco. Lightly cooked asparagus, turnips, artichokes, beets, and carrots are tumbled in a shallot, green garlic, and champagne vinegar vinaigrette. I'd have this for lunch with a hunk of bread and butter, or serve it before a main course of salmon or a simple lamb chop.
Speaking of asparagus...Most often, asparagus makes its springtime appearance in The Delicious household simply steamed with a little bit of salt and occasionally, in an omelet or frittata.
However, I will never go back to simple steaming of asparagus, nor to hiding them inside a mask of eggs after having them wrapped in slices of prosciutto and roasted. I realize, of course, that this is not a wildly innovative technique, but it is the first time I've done it and tasted it.
Now different recipes call for slightly different methods -- blanching the asparagus first, tossing them with olive oil, etc. -- but there is no need. Just trim the woody ends, wrap 3-4 stems in prosciutto, and roast in a 400 degree oven for about 15 minutes. There's no need for oil since the prosciutto's fat will render onto the baking tray, and the salty meat is enough with the asparagus.
We get our daily dose of food porn with Marisa's Food Porn Daily, but still I have to point out the photography of Rick Lee, a photographer out of Charleston, West Virginia. Rick has a blog where he showcases his photography, and because every Thursday is grocery night, there's an entire section dedicated to produce. When Rick goes, he takes incredible photos around the produce section, making basic things like corn and cabbage look positively sex-ay.
Who knew a picture of an onion could make you almost cry?
1- 7 to 9 lb. Smoked Pork Shoulder 1 Cabbage 1 Rutabaga (Sometimes called Yellow Turnip or Horse Turnip) 1-2 lbs. of Carrots 2-3 lbs. of Potatoes (Plain White, Yukon Gold, Fingerlings, Peruvian Purple- whatever you like.) 4-6 Sweet Onions 1-2 lbs. of any Root Vegetables of your choice (Parsnips, Turnips, Celery Root, Sweet Potato or Yam, Sunchokes, Radish or Daikon, Beets, etc.- Beets need to be cooked separately) 4-6 Garlic cloves 1/2 tbs. of Black Peppercorns 2-3 Bay Leaves 1 tbs. pickling or other cooking spices (Allspice, Cloves, Mustard Seed, Coriander, Ginger, Cinnamon, Nutmeg, etc.) 1-3 Bottles of Dark Beer
Total cooking time is 3-4 hours. (apx. 25-30 minutes per pound)
Writing in The Root, Slate's online magazine covering African-American topics, Bryant Terry makes the argument that soul food has gotten a bad rap. Soul food is portrayed in popular culture as salty, fatty, sugar-laden comfort dishes like mac n' cheese, greens with ham hocks, fried chicken and lard biscuits. But half a century ago soul food meant the simple dishes Southern African-Americans ate for dinner, with plenty of fresh local ingredients - sauteed okra, stone ground grit cakes, homemade peach chutney. Sure there was fried chicken and cobbler, but that was hardly the whole picture, Terry says.
Terry, a Bay Area cookbook author originally from Memphis, hopes that bringing back locally focused, veggie-heavy soul food can help lower rates of obesity and diabetes in African-American communities. The article includes recipes for grit cakes and citrus collards with raisins. Yum.
Broccoli forests sprouting from powdered cumin soil. A cauliflower coral reef. A pea pod boat drifting on a sunset sea of pink salmon.
London photographer Carl Warner constructs elaborate landscapes made completely of food, from mozzarella clouds to an entire village sculpted from chunks of Parmesan. There's a photo gallery of his work up on the BBC website. It looks look ultra-time consuming and amazingly cool.
We clearly have a deep-seated fascination with edible landscapes - think about the candy testing room in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, with its lollipop plants and chocolate river, or the lunch pail trees in Return to Oz. Or remember the town of Chewandswallow, where it rained juice and snowed mashed potatoes in Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, a seminal text for the (4-year old) budding foodie?
Anyway, check out the photos. They'll have you gnawing on the nearest tree limb.
We're taught that in general, color is more desirable than white in food. This hasn't necessarily been the case for cauliflower, which belies its white color with a nutrition profile similar to its cruciferous siblings, broccoli and cabbage. Cauliflower is high in vitamin C and cancer-fighting antioxidants.
However, thanks to selective breeding (not genetic engineering), cauliflower in different colors are available. They taste the same as white cauliflower, but are just, well, more fun on the plate. Scientists are also claiming that they might be healthier for you than white cauliflower because of the benefits from the compounds that give the vegetables the color.
Healthier than white or not, if its being colorful makes you and your family eat it, that's all the better!
I shied away from brussels sprouts until I found Ina Garten's (the Barefoot Contessa) recipe, and then I never looked back. I make 'em every few weeks, and I'm pleased every time.
They're deceptively simple and unbelievably delicious.
Roasted Brussels Sprouts
A cup of brussels sprouts, washed with the ends chopped off 2 tsp. olive oil kosher salt for seasoning
Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Spread the sprouts on an oiled pan and sprinkle with olive oil and salt. Bake for about 12 minutes, turn, and bake for another 12-15.
The sprouts come out perfectly, with sweet, crinkled caramelized skins and tender, flavorful insides. They're on the firmer side, but plenty easy to eat.
I know the words genetic and engineering in the same sentence are very frightening to some. Until recently I was opposed to it myself, and I still have some reservations. But in light of all the benefits we've gained from tinkering with vegetable genes, I think we should give it a chance. Lets start with super carrots.
Scientists working at the Baylor College of Medicine in Houston, Texas have developed a carrot that will deliver 41% more calcium than a regular carrot. To do it, they altered a gene which lets the vegetables calcium flow more easily through its membranes. This modification alone wouldn't get you 100% of the recommended daily calcium, but any little bit helps; especially if you are allergic to dairy.
There is a lot more testing to be done before the super carrots are ready for mass consumption. But as scientists find more health hazards in high fat diets, this may be one of the best ways to get the calcium you need while avoiding high fat dairy products. In the future, the slogan for osteoporosis prevention may be "Eat Your Carrots!"
When my sister came to visit last week, the first thing she asked me after hoping into my car at the train station was, "Do you have any brussel sprouts?" This might sound like a weird question, but the last two times she's stopped in Philly I just happened to have roasted brussel sprouts in the fridge. Sadly, this time around I didn't have any (although I had thought briefly about stopping to get some just the day before she arrived) and while we ate well while she was here (she makes a mean roasted sweet potato) I had started to develop a mean yen for some roasted brussel sprouts.
Last Thursday I finally slaked my thirst, as it were, with a pound of sprouts from my local produce market. I trimmed the ends off, sliced them in half and tossed them in a roasting pan with half a chopped onion, crushed garlic, salt, pepper and olive oil. They went into the oven at 375 degrees for about half an hour, until they were browned and tender. I finished them with a little squeeze of lemon and some chopped, toasted walnuts. Truly one of the best things ever.
By now we've learned the drill: organic is best. However, not everyone has the budget required to switch totally to organic foods. Thankfully Dr. Andrew Weill has put together a list of 11 fruits and vegetables that are OK to buy in their conventionally grown form. In alphabetical order, the list is as follows: Asparagus, Avocados, Bananas, Broccoli, Cabbage, Corn, Kiwi, Mangos, Onions, Pineapples and Peas.
I'm guessing that most of these items are on the list because they have fairly burly skins or peels that protect them from absorbing too much in the way of pesticides. I'm a little stunned that broccoli is on the list as I would have thought that its many little flowers would happily soak up problematic chemicals.
But, on the flip side, you might be wondering exactly what produce is best to buy organic? The Environmental Working Group has created a guide that can be printed out in handy wallet guide form. Check out our gallery of these 12 foods that really are the best organic investment.
Gallery: Produce Best Bought Organic
So there it is. Consider yourself slightly better informed about buying organic than you were five minutes ago.
Have you ever stashed a Coke in the freezer, hoping to chill it quickly, then forgotten all about it, only to have it explode all over your frozen peas?
Have you ever sighed silently when someone told you they were a vegetarian, assuming they were a dogmatic, tofu-eating hippie? If so, read this essay by Taylor Clark on Slate, debunking various anti-vegetarian myths. No, vegetarians are not (necessarily) dull-palated, content to eat mushy vegetables and Gardenburgers. No, most vegetarians aren't interested in lecturing you about your steak (unless they're just jerks), so feel free to invite them to your barbecue. No, they're not silently judging you. 
The Jerusalem artichoke (Helianthus tuberosus L.) is not from Jerusalem, nor is it an artichoke. The tuber also known as the sunchoke is the root of a type of sunflower native to North America, and was a staple food for early European immigrants. It may have gotten its name from these pilgrims, who considered America the "New Jerusalem," or it may be a bastardization of the Italian word girasole, meaning sunflower. Once considered a "poor man's food," the Jerusalem artichoke is experiencing a bit of a renaissance as of late. 
I'd just gotten into my winter vegetable routine - roasting acorn squash halves with mustard and maple syrup, braising cabbage with caraway seeds and a dash of apple cider vinegar, grating endless bags of carrots for sweet-and-sour carrot and raisin salads. And now, here we are, spring again. Lamb's lettuce, tentative chives, delicate asparagus. So why not take advantage of the season with a simple, springtime vegetable recipe?
Writing in 
I know the words genetic and engineering in the same sentence are very frightening to some. Until recently I was opposed to it myself, and I still have some reservations. But in light of all the benefits we've gained from tinkering with vegetable genes, I think we should give it a chance. Lets start with super
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A fraking amazing Battlestar Galactica cake
Iced Tea 101
Pierogies + cheese + onions + kraut = Parmageddon!
