Growing up, I went through phases when it came to breakfast. As a small child, it was my favorite meal of the day. My usual dinner requests were for scrambled eggs, sausage, pancakes, waffles, or French toast — never all at the same time, obviously — and my mother was only ever happy to oblige, as breakfast is probably the easiest meal of the day to cook. I can still remember with great sadness the first time my father took me to a McDonald’s for lunch and the oil-slicked teenager who apathetically informed us we were too late for breakfast.

There were many such incidents in my life. Luckily, growing up in New Jersey means there’s a plethora of diners within driving distance from any place you might be, and most diners serve at least some breakfast foods 24/7.

It was sometime in my early, precocious pre-teen years that my love of breakfast began to wane, and by the time I was in high school, I’d forgotten the meal all together. I usually slept well past the point of breakfast or brunch on weekends, and at some point, I’d decided that all cooked eggs smell rotten, all pancakes are fattening. The entire point of breakfast was lost, until my senior year of high school when my best friend and I would arrive at school half an hour early for cream cheese and bagels washed down with a bottle of Surge.

Still, without Nanette’s presence to share in chewy, bagel goodness, I usually declined breakfast — or slept right through it.

My sophomore year of college, I again began to explore the idea of breakfast as the perfect compliment to a night of boozing; eating eggs after a particularly drunken evening is still a ritual I carry to this day, and I will — without exception — always wake up craving eggs after a particularly rough night. But it really wasn’t until this past year that I began to look forward to the weekend as a time when I could begin cooking breakfast for my husband and myself, looking forward to the same eggs, chicken sausage, pancakes, waffles, and French toast I loved as a child.

Which brings me to the subject of pancakes.

As far back as I can remember, pancakes came from a box. My grandmother actually started this tradition; completely and utterly impressed by the awesome, newfangled contraption that is a microwave, my first pancakes came out of a little red box from the freezer. They were always perfectly round and uniformly colored golden brown, thus setting an impossible standard for all subsequent pancakes to follow in the most purely superficial way. This being the 1980s, however, microwave meals weren’t exactly at the height of quality — often, the pancakes came out completely uneven with tough rubbery edges and a center that still contained ice crystals.

When my mother quit full-time employment and rescued me from my grandmother’s obsession with microwave foods, I didn’t fare much better. My mother’s first response to pancakes — or anything requiring a flour base — was “Is there a Bisquick recipe for it?” From shortcakes to coffee cake, pancakes to waffles, if that horrible yellow box said it could be done, it would be done. For years, in my mind, most bread and cake-like products had the distinctive baking powder taste of Bisquick.

Then, in the late eighties and early nineties, there was a new invention — shelf-stabilized liquid pancake batter. All my mother had to do was go into a supermarket and grab a yellow bottle marked “Pancake Batter” and she could squeeze out perfectly round (though not perfectly cooked) pancakes for me whenever I wanted them.

It was around this time, I’m sure by pure coincidence, that I stopped eating breakfast.

For the longest time, once I began to rediscover the joys of eating in the morning, I too fell into the trap of the instant pancake batter — especially Wegman’s store brand, which was as simple as adding water and cooking. I could get up, pour a cup of water into two cups of box batter, and have more pancakes than you could ever dream of within ten minutes or so. Sure, they weren’t as good as diner pancakes, but they weren’t has horribly powdery as Bisquick, and by adding water to a powder mix, it sure felt like actual, geniuine cooking.

But then, one day, there was no pancake mix — we’d used it all and hadn’t had a chance to buy any more. I stared at some eggs in the fridge, wondering if those would help me make pancakes, completely unsure of what ingredients were required in pancake making, and whether or not homemade pancakes could be created that were fluffy, golden, and wonderful without any kind of batter.

I closed the refrigerator door and cracked open my copy of New Cook Book (Better Homes and Gardens Test Kitchen) and was dismayed. The recipe only called for one egg (which was a relief, since I only had two in the fridge,) but it also required an entire cup of milk — which I had, but that would leave me without milk for my coffee.

Frustrated, I turned to the only other source I could think of in such desperate times: Vegan with a Vengeance

This, kids, is why you should have at least one vegan cookbook in your home — and if you only get one, please make it this one! Even if you’re not into sustainable eating, even if you’re a meat-and-potatoes kind of household, there will come a day when you need to make pancakes or cupcakes or just a side dish to go with the steak and potatoes you’re doing, and you won’t have an egg in the house. Or you’ll be out of milk. Or whatever. Only a vegan cookbook will save your ass now.

There are several things I learned from Vegan with a Vengeance about pancakes in general, thanks to Isa’s one and a half pages within the book dedicated to making perfect pancakes. The key, of course, is the gluten in the flour — when you add moisture and mix, the gluten binds together — over mix, and the gluten will become elastic (like when you kneed dough) and give you tough pancakes. If you don’t let the gluten rest and “relax” after mixing, it stays tightly bound together and doesn’t give you the lift you know and love in your pancakes. After reading the entire section a few times, I couldn’t wait to give these pancakes a try.

Were they good? Oh hell yes, they were good. While the cinnamon in the recipe is optional, I added it anyway and can’t imagine pancakes without it.

Pancakes

Ingredients
• 1 1/4 c. flour
• 2 tsp baking powder
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 1 tsp ground cinnamon (optional)
• 2 tbsp canola oil
• 1/3 c. water
• 1 to 1 1/4 c. plain rice or soy milk
• 1 tsp vanilla
• 2 tbsp maple syrup

Instructions
1. Oil a large skillet and preheat over medium-high heat about two minutes
2. Sift together flour, baking powder, salt, and cinnamon, if using. In a separate bowl, combine all other ingredients. Adding wet ingredients to dry mix, mix until just combined. Do not overmix.
3. Unofficial 3rd step I’ve added: Let mixture rest ten minutes — during this step, I preheat my skillet.
4. Cook pancakes until browned on the bottom and bubbles form on top, about 4 minutes. Turn the pancakes over and cook until the bottoms are browned and the pancakes are barely firm to the touch. Transfer to individual plates. Repeat with remaining batter, adding more oil to the pan as needed

Note: I usually transfer the pancakes to an oven-safe plate and keep them in a just-warm oven until I’ve finished cooking all the batter and am ready to serve.

Another tip from me to you: use an ice cream scoop to scoop out perfectly round pancakes. Just like the ones from the box!

Since the Worldwide Vegan Bake Sale is this week — and not one of the four sites I contacted in the Princeton area would give me space to set up a table — I decided to post a brand new, never before seen, Elizabeth-original recipe in honor of the WWVBS. Of course, the question was, “Do I make a new recipe from scratch or do I veganize an old favorite?”

One of the most consistently popular, linked to, and visited pages on this site is my page about “Amish” Friendship Bread, which I pretty much pointed out is not actually Amish and the “friendship” part is debatable. With several cups of milk and three eggs in the mix, it’s pretty animal unfriendly, to start. And then there’s the issue of human friendships. I mean, imagine being saddled with a bag of goop you have to pay attention to for ten days, implored by instructions not to throw it out, freeze it, waste it, or use it as a top hat. I’m not necessarily sure I’m going to be your friend any more after you abandon your “Amish” baby on my stoop, kiddo — especially not one that results in a several-hundred-calorie-per-slice diet killer. Then, assuming I don’t bin the starter, I have to pass it off onto my friends — and how friendly they’ll be after I dump it (metaphorically speaking) in their laps is a question for the ages. Hell, the only thing friendly about this bread is the starter itself, which will take your neglect and abuse with gentle good humor and still produce that fattening cinnamon pound cake that’s about as Amish as an electric fireplace.

But what if, and I know this is just crazy talk but, what if I told you I figured out a way to make a version of this that was friendly to your co-workers, animals, and your waistline. What then?

Wonder no more, my dears, as I present to you Friendly Vegan Bread. It’s Amish Friendship Bread with all the usual substitutions — and reduced in size to make exactly one loaf plus a cup of starter!

“Devil magic!” I hear you cry, but worry not, there is nothing devilish about this bread!

There were, obviously, some considerable obstacles. The first, in my mind at least because it’s where my mind naturally goes first, was the pudding. I usually use Jell-O brand vanilla instant pudding (in fact, some versions of the recipe even specify the Jell-o brand) but is that vegan? I googled, but my google-fu failed me, turning up only a PETA website that listed Jell-O instant pudding in vanilla and pistachio as animal-friendly. However, several other items on their grossly out of date (read Web 1.0…or earlier. Nearly BBS-era!) site have since changed their formulas to use whey, gelatin, or other fun products whose origins you really don’t want to know.

Next, I decided to put that awesome tool Twitter to some use and send a tweet to the only person I could think of who’d know the answer. Except she didn’t.

So I bought the pudding anyway. And checked each ingredient in Wikipedia. It was solid.

I debated for a while about the virtues of almond milk for baking verses the virtuous nature of light soy milk as my milk substitute — a decision that was otherwise pretty straight forward — and went with the almond milk mostly for the taste and texture. I did start a soy starter as well, but it immediately separated into a clear, oil-like fluid and a dense, pudding layer, so I decided to stick with the almond milk.

There was also some silent, mental debate about how to pull three eggs out of a recipe without totally fucking it up, especially since I was already having the oil and throwing in applesauce, which ruled out my first instinct: turn this thing into banana bread! After some serious rumination on the subject and toying with the idea of either buying scary-as-hell Ener-G powdered egg substitute or maybe forgoing the whole “waist-friendly” angle and using ground flax seeds, I settled on soy yogurt, and that was that. I imagine some canned pumpkin, along with a bit of ground nutmeg and ginger, could nicely substitute for the egg and turn this into a very nice fall-themed dessert, but I was worried about the density. As the final recipe stands, it comes out about the same texture and density as a pound cake — anything heavier might upset the balance into brick territory.

I also, for health’s sake, pondered taking out the final sugar addition and subbing agave nectar — which I love and cannot live without — but knew that’d necessitate a reduction in the already halved oil — great for the waistline, but I wasn’t so sure about the texture and density. For next time, to be sure.

One thing I will say for the final recipe: the flavor was exactly the way I remember it being, and the texture was very nice indeed — moister than the original, I’d say.

Now, this recipe is a work in progress — I might tweak it a bit to help reduce the cooking time (which was substantially increased) — without decreasing the temperature, which I had to do, as my first experiment came out good, but burnt. Also, most milk substitutes are a bit denser than cow’s milk, so I’m going to propose light soy milk rather than the full-fat almond milk, though I did notice a distinctive soy milk taste when I used plain soy instead of vanilla almond milk. If you find a tweak to the recipe that makes it even better, please let me know!

As with the usual Amish Friendship Bread, if you want to pass this along — start a baking chain letter of vegan-friendly bread would be kind of revolutionary and in the spirit of the Worldwide Vegan Bake Sale — add a cup each of almond milk, sugar, and flour on Day 4, Day 7, and Day 10. If you’re selfish (or considerate of your non-baking friends), just follow the single recipe below, which makes enough for one loaf and a single one-cup starter for your next loaf. In ten days.

Friendly Vegan Bread

For the Starter
• 1 c. flour
• 1 c. sugar
• 1 c. almond milk (or your favorite non-dairy milk
• 1/4 oz (2 1/2 tsp) active yeast (not rapid-rise).

Day One: Mix ingredients together in a plastic bowl or baggie until just moistened (do not over mix). Cover.

Day Two: Burp the bowl/bag. Mix. Re-cover.

Day Three: Burp the bowl/bag. Mix. Re-cover.

Day Four: Burp the bowl/bag. Mix. Re-cover.

Day Five: Add to the bowl/bag:

• 1/4 c. flour
• 1/4 c. sugar
• 1/4 c. almond milk

Mix until moist and re-cover.

Day Six: Burp the bowl/bag. Mix. Re-cover.

Day Seven: Burp the bowl/bag. Mix. Re-cover.

Day Eight: Burp the bowl/bag. Mix. Re-cover.

Day Nine: Burp the bowl/bag. Mix. Re-cover.

Day Ten: BAKING DAY!

Bread Ingredients
• 1/2 c. canola oil
• 1/2 c. applesauce (natural, no-sugar added)
• 1 c. sugar
• 1 tsp vanilla
• 6oz. Silk Vanilla Soy Yogurt (or your favorite vanilla vegan-friendly yogurt)
• 1 1/2 tsp baking powder
• 1 tsp salt
• 2 c. flour
• 1/2 c. milk
• 1/2 tsp baking soda
• 1 large box of instant vanilla pudding (Yes, Jell-O is vegan. I checked.)
• 2 tsp cinnamon

Baking Instructions
1. Preheat the oven to 325 degrees F.
2. Spray a loaf pan with non-stick cooking spray.
3. Remove one cup of batter from your bag/bowl and set aside. Pour remaining starter into a large mixing bowl. Return the reserved cup to the bowl/bag. You can either begin the ten day cycle again or just freeze this for another time or use.
4. To the starter, add the flour, sugar, and milk. Mix well, then allow to rest about ten minutes.
5. Add remaining ingredients to the batter, mixing well.
6. Pour batter into pan. Bake at 325 degrees for one to one-and-a-half hours, or until a cake tester comes out clean

It was a cold, rainy Saturday two weeks ago when I received three packages from Amazon.com in the mail: Green Day’s new album 21st Century Breakdown, Chuck Palahniuk’s novel Pygmy, and Isa Chandra Moskowitz’s new book Vegan Brunch: Homestyle Recipes Worth Waking Up For-From Asparagus Omelets to Pumpkin Pancakes. Guess which book I picked up and read through cover to cover almost immediately?

Now, honestly, I’m a kinda chubby girl who has an insatiable sweet tooth, one that calls my name softly in the middle of the night with dreams of cakes, cookies, and all sorts of very sugary things. Even breakfast cannot escape – I’m a huge fan of a giant stack of pancakes dripping with syrup on Saturday morning and a muffin, danish, or pastry when grabbing a weekday breakfast on the go. Naturally, I looked to Isa’s new book and immediately was captivated lovely food items in the sweet section of the book, and especially Banana Rabanada, which is parenthetically noted as “Brazillian French Toast”.

Now, I’ll be honest — I was that Girl Scout who always threw a tantrum about making French toast on our camping trips. The scout masters would bring with us eggs and milk and cinnamon, and I’d be the little girl pouting and crying to Mrs. Butterworth, the only person who loved me. There was something just dreadful about milk and eggs whipped up and bread soaked in that mixture and then thrown onto a hot skillet. There was always some little trail of egg that seeped out of the bread and onto the surface, leaving a yellow crust that tasted of fried egg and sour milk. Ick.

But this was different. For one, it’s vegan so there’s no fear of eggy-in-a-basket-ness to it, and second, the name! It’s called Banana Rabanada! Who could resist making something called “banana rabanada”? I know, I couldn’t. The name just calls to me, teases me, tells me “You know how much fun it’ll be to just say “banana rabanada” all day? A lot!”

Of course, because I’m never satisfied doing a recipe the right way, I made a minor modification. In Step 2, instead of putting my bread on a baking sheet, I put my slices in a casserole dish and poured the mixture over that, which completely covered all slices on both sides. I let my pieces sit for a total of 20 minutes per the instructions but didn’t need to flip. Since the slices soaked up most of the custard by the end of the twenty minutes, I’m guessing that 10 minutes total would have been sufficient; the extra time lead to a breakdown in the fibers of the bread, leading to a more bread pudding-like texture, which I LOVED. I’m sure the right way is fine too, though.

Banana Rabanada

From Vegan Brunch: Homestyle Recipes Worth Waking Up For-From Asparagus Omelets to Pumpkin Pancakes by Isa Chandra Moskowitz

INGREDIENTS
• 2 very ripe bananas
• 1 1/2 c. almond milk (I used soy)
• 2 tbsp cornstarch
• 1 tsp pure vanilla extract
• 1 tbsp unsweetened cocoa powder
• 1 tsp ground cinnamon
• 1 stale baguette, sliced diagonally in 1″ pieces (the book has very good instructions on how to do this for greater surface area)
• sliced strawberries and bananas for garnish

INSTRUCTIONS
1. Blend bananas, milk, cornstarch, and vanilla in a blender or food processor until smooth.
2. Spread out baguette slices in a single layer on a baking pan. Pour banana mixture onto the bread and flip slices to coat. Let sit for ten minutes, then flip over and let soak for 10 minutes more.
3. Prehead a large, nonstick skillet (cast ironed preferred) over medium heat. Spray with cooking spray and cook bread for 5 to 7 minutes on one side and about 3 on the other. When ready, the toast should be golden to medium brown and flecked with darker spots.

Carrots? Check.

Nuts? Check.

Healthy? Not so much, but when there’s healthy protein and veggies in a cake, it’s kinda hard not to pretend it’s health — or at least rationalize that if you weren’t eating this, then you’d be eating some kind of Death By Chocolate Chocolate cake, and that’d kill you, so this is definitely healthier and therefore better, so why not have a second slice, hmm?

I have to say that I’ve always hated carrot cake. It’s the raisins, you see — I absolutely hate dried fruit, and raisins are up there with prunes in the “Most Evil Dried Fruit from a Delicious Fruit Ever” category. In fact, in my mind, they duke it out regularly, vying for this most prestigious title, while somewhere else in the world, okra realizes that no one else is competing against it for “Most Evil Vegetable Ever!” this year. Or any year. Ever.

I digress.

The directions are for a cake — either a round layer or a rectangular sheet cake. I’ve also had success many times in the past making these into delicious little cupcakes that the ladies at my office adore. Just line a cupcake/muffin tin with 12 liners, fill till 3/4 full, then bake for about 20-25 minutes.

And that, kids, is why I love Isa’s recipes — they’re substitute-friendly and nearly idiot-proof.

Ginger-Macadamia-Coconut-Carrot cake

• 2 1/3 c. flour
• 1 tbsp baking powder
• 1 tsp baking soda
• 3/4 tsp salt
• 2 tsp ground cinnamon
• 1/2 tsp ground nutmeg
• 1 c pinapple juice
• 1/2 c canola oil
• 3/4 c sugar
• 1/2 c pure maple syrup
• 2 tsp vanilla extract
• 1 c macadamia nuts (I substituted walnuts because they’re WAY cheaper and still taste good.)
• 1/4 crystallized ginger, chopped.
• 1 c. unsweetened coconut
• 2 c. carrots, grated.

1. Preheat oven to 350 F. Have ready two 8″ round springform cake pans, lightly greased. (I used a 9×13 pan and made a single layer cake, because I felt a bit lazy.)
2. In a large mixing bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and spices.
3. In a separate large mixing bowl, mix together the pineapple, oil, sugar, maple syrup, and vanilla. Add the dry ingredients to the wet in batches, and combine well with a hand mixer or strong fork. Fold in the nuts, ginger, coconut, and carrots.
4. Divide the batter evenly between the two round cake pans, or spread in the retangular pan, and bake for 40-45 minutes. Let cool in pans. Remove from pans and put a layer of coconut icing between the layers and another layer of icing on top; I like to leave the sides free of frosting because it looks pretty.

(Ed. Note: if you’re like me and something of a sugar junkie, I strongly recommend making a double batch of the icing and doing the sides with what’s leftover after you glop it on really thick to the top and middle. Trust me, you’ll want all that sugar!)

Coconut Frosting:
• 1/4 c. non-hydrogenated margarine at room temperature.
• 1/4 c coconut milk (Ed. note: if you’re a little short, soy works fine but doesn’t taste as coconutty.)
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• 2 c confectioner’s sugar, sifted.
• 1 c. unsweetened coconut.

1. Cream margarine until light and fluffy.
2. Add the coconut milk and vanilla and combine.
3. Add the sifted confectioner’s sugar and mix until smooth (use an electric mixer; otherwise it might take a good 5 minutes to mix.)
4. Add the unsweetened coconut and combine. Refrigerate until ready to use (Ed. note: trying to frost the cake while it’s still warm is a REALLY bad idea. Really.)

Does anyone else remember the old Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup ads from the early 90s, where two people — one holding a bar of chocolate, the other holding a jar of peanut butter — bump into each other, causing the chocolate bar to drop into the peanut butter jar?

“You got chocolate in my peanut butter!” one exclaims.

“You got peanut butter on my chocolate!”

The new ads for Reese’s special holiday Peanut Butter eggs — where a chocolate Easter bunny finds itself inexplicably attracted to a jar of Reese’s peanut butter — also explores the mystery of how someone thought to put chocolate and peanut butter together to make one absolutely fantastic snack food that changed America forever. (Hershey, the chocolate company that makes Reese’s cups, does not say how Mr. Reese — the dairy man who invented the confection — came up with the idea for peanut butter-covered chocolate, but I think it had something to do with beer or drugs. Most good inventions do.)

All of this digression brings me back to the point at hand: making something chocolate peanut buttery at home. If you’ve picked up the book Top Secret Recipes like I did when I was a kid, you know that the recipe for a “clone” of the iconic Reese’s cups exists (a picture of it is right on the cover!) though it’s really not the same and didn’t satisfy the same sweet spot that the real Reese’s cups always did.

That, however, has changed.

This, my friends, is all you need to make your own chocolate-peanut butter deliciousness in your very own kitchen, in cookie form. The recipe is from the forth-coming Isa Moskowitz book Vegan Cookies Invade Your Cookie Jar: 100 Dairy-Free Recipes for Everyone’s Favorite Treats. The book’s available for pre-order now, though I do not believe it has a release date coming any time soon, as Isa’s brunch book, Vegan Brunch: Homestyle Recipes Worth Waking Up For-From Asparagus Omelets to Pumpkin Pancakes, is coming out in May.

Thing is, I don’t need another cookbook. Honestly, I just don’t. My tiny kitchen’s cabinets are already buckling under the weight of 10 cookbooks plus several years worth of Cook and Bon Apetite magazines. And, while I have all of Isa’s cookbooks to date in there, I really don’t need another one considering I haven’t cooked everything within the pages of the first three books she wrote.

Still, those peanut butter cups did look tempting. And take another look at the ingredients picture up there. Unlike some of Isa’s other recipes, this one uses no special ingredients — everything I need, I already had ready in the cupboard. That was pretty special in and of itself. And then there was the awesomeness factor of making a recipe from a cookbook that doesn’t even have a cover uploaded yet, and the ability to review the recipe before other people. (Please ignore the fact that the recipe has been online for several weeks now.)

These little pillows of peanut butter and chocolate heaven live up to their name — the exterior chocolate cookie is very lightweight, with a dense inside of peanut butter that is gooey and delicious fresh out of the oven. David and I ended up eating so many, we barely ate our dinner an hour later — even though the cookies were supposed to be dessert — because we couldn’t stop popping the little delights into our mouths.

It should be noted that they are a bit more labor-intensive than your usual drop cookie. The peanut butter dough requires natural peanut butter, which means a good five or so minutes of very slowly mixing the separated oil and peanut butter layers if you’re opening a new jar. Using a mixer made mixing up the doughs easier, but then there was the process of making the peanut butter balls (not so hard) and making the chocolate outer layer, which is not hard, but just time consuming to do 24 times, all the while making sure that the peanut butter is completely encased in the chocolate.

But the time it takes to get it right is totally made up for in the perfection of these cookies. Please keep in mind that these are NOT as sweet or dense as a Reese’s PBC. They’re not meant to be. But, they totally satisfy that part of me that loves PBCs, and both my stomach and my wallet look forward to carrying these little gems to work every day rather than going to the vending machine to shell out $1 for two HFCS-filled candies just to get my chocolate and peanut butter fix.

Peanut Butter Chocolate Pillows

From the upcoming book Vegan Cookies Invade Your Cookie Jar: 100 Dairy-Free Recipes for Everyone’s Favorite Treats

INGREDIENTS

Chocolate dough:
• 1/2 cup canola oil
• 1 cup sugar
• 1/4 cup pure maple syrup
• 3 tablespoons non-dairy milk
• 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1/3 cup unsweetened dutch processed cocoa powder (Ed. Note: I used Hershey’s unsweetened cocoa powder)
• 2 tablespoons black unsweetened cocoa or more dutch processed unsweetened cocoa powder
• 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/4 teaspoon salt


Filling:

• 3/4 cup natural salted peanut butter, crunchy or creamy style
• 2/3 cup confectioner’s sugar
• 2 to 3 tablespoons soy creamer or non-dairy milk
• 1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract

INSTRUCTIONS

1. In a large mixing bowl combine oil, sugar, maple syrup, non-dairy milk and vanilla extract and mix until smooth. Sift in flour, cocoa powder, black cocoa if using, baking soda and salt. Mix to form a moist dough.
2. Make the filling. In another mixing bowl beat together peanut butter, confectioner’s sugar, 2 tablespoons of soy creamer and vanilla extract to form a moist but firm dough. If peanut butter dough is too dry (as different natural peanut butters have different moisture content), stir in remaining tablespoon of non-dairy milk. If dough is too wet knead in a little extra powdered sugar.
3. Preheat oven to 350°F. Line baking sheet with parchment paper.
4. Shape the cookies. Create the centers of the cookies by rolling the peanut butter dough into 24 balls. Scoop a generous tablespoon of chocolate dough, flatten into a disc and place a peanut butter ball in the center. Fold the sides of the chocolate dough up and around the peanut butter center and roll the chocolate ball into an smooth ball between your palms. Place on a sheet of waxed paper and repeat with remaining doughs. If desired gently flatten cookies a little, but this is not necessary.
5. Place dough balls on lined baking sheets about 2 inches apart and bake for 10 minutes. Remove sheet from oven and let cookies for 5 minutes before moving to a wire rack to complete cooling. Store cookies in tightly covered container. If desired warm cookies in a microwave for 10 to 12 seconds before serving.
Share and Enjoy:

]]> http://www.nom-able.com/2009/04/test-kitchen-peanut-butter-chocolate-pillows/feed/ 0 http://www.nom-able.com/2009/02/46-days-of-vegetarianism-green-thai-curry/ http://www.nom-able.com/2009/02/46-days-of-vegetarianism-green-thai-curry/#comments Sat, 28 Feb 2009 03:48:33 +0000 Elizabeth Williams http://www.nom-able.com/?p=176

Hello, my name is Elizabeth, and I’m a curry addict.

I had been sober 30+ days, until fate intervened. When David and I got our income tax rebate from the IRS, the very first thing we did was go to an Indian restaurant called Palace of Asia for curry. (In the spirit of my Lent sacrifice, I had panir masala instead of my usual choice, which was just as nice. ) Before then, however, I’d managed to quit curry cold turkey — no at home curry messes, no Red Thai Curry microwave entrees from Lean Cuisine, no “curry chicken” from the Chinese place (accurately named “No. 1 Chinese Restaurant”) down the street. Oh no, I was not going to continue to live in the grip of this addiction.

Oh hell, of course I was.



My addiction began as benign as any other crutch upon which we learn to rely. I was 25, a stranger in the strange land of England, and drunk off my face. My new friends at my temporary job had gone out drinking and invited me along — as the kind of heavy girl that never gets these invites back in the US, I eagerly accepted. On the way out of the bar, my new best friend Clare and I stumbled into a fried chicken place (not KFC) to try the chicken before getting on the bus out of the city, back to the suburbs.

Somewhere along the way, I mentioned that fried foods were, without a doubt, the perfect food to go with large amounts of alcohol. But she shook her head. In England, after a night of heavy drinking, you do not go to McDonald’s; you go out “for an Indian” — preferably curry, though kebabs often fill in at late or short notice.

Several hours later, I was dragging my sober and slightly confused boyfriend back down the main street to a curry place where Clare believed one of our co-workers moonlighted. Naturally, as it was a Friday night, he was there, tending a rather packed bar. At our table, I stared at the menu, completely unsure of what any of the words meant (even though there was a description, in English, of what each item was) and what I’d actually like. Clare offered to order for me, and chose what would soon become crack for me: Chicken Tikka Masala.

Between the curry, the rice pilaf, the popodoms, and the naan, I was hooked. I’m sure the copious amounts of wine helped.

Now, I am a curry addict, and no lack of meat will leave me without my dearest, post beloved meal. Instead, I turned to that tried and true cookbook of mine, Vegan with a Vengeance : Over 150 Delicious, Cheap, Animal-Free Recipes That Rock and looked for a meat-free alternative.



Thai curry is naturally different than it’s Indian counterpart in several ways — it’s sweeter, for a start, and while it uses similar herbs and spices, it relies much more on corriander and it’s leafy plant-form, cilantro, for flavor. It also isn’t as thick or creamy, and plating the dish instead of serving it in a big bowl was much easier, as it relies more on the contents of the curry itself (in this case, veg and fried tofu) than the sauce to carry the flavor.

Still, it filled a warm little spot in my soul, to tide me over until the next time I feel the urge rising.

Green Thai Curry

Adapted from Vegan with a Vengeance : Over 150 Delicious, Cheap, Animal-Free Recipes That Rock

GREEN THAI CURRY PASTE

• 2 small Thai green peppers (I used serrano chiles), seeded and chopped
• 2 jalapeno peppers, seeded and chopped.
• 1/2 c boiling water
• 2 tbsp crushed coriander seeds
• 1 tsp cumin seeds
• 5 white peppercorns
• 1 tbsp fresh chopped lemon grass
• 1 tbsp fresh chopped ginger (I used a tube of ginger paste — which is pureed ginger. I keep this on hand at almost all times.)
• 3 cloves garlic
• 1 c. lightly packed fresh cilantro
• 2 tsp lime zest
• 1 c. shallots, chopped

CURRY (THE “MEAT” OF THE RECIPE, IF YOU WILL)

• 5 tbsp peanut oil
• 1 block of tofu, pressed and cut into triangles (the book provides detailed instructions for this earlier on)
• 1 red bell pepper, seeded and thinly sliced
• 1 medium red onion, sliced into thin half moons
• 1 (15 oz) can coconut milk
• 1 + 1/2 tbsp real maple syrup
• Juice of 1 lime (about 3 tbsps)
• 1/2 lightly packed fresh basil (the book recommends thai, but regular works as well)

INSTRUCTIONS

(if you aren’t feeling too adventurous, I’ve heard anecdotal evidence suggesting you can skip steps 1-3 and use canned/store-bought green thai chile paste. But if I didn’t, why would you?)

1. Place the chili peppers in a bowl, cover with boiling water, and let sit for 15 minutes.
2. Because I used dried spices, I just threw the coriander, cumin, and peppercorns into a food processor. If you use whole, you should toast them first. See the book for more details.
3. Add the remaining ingredients to the food processor along with the chiles in water and grind to a paste. Cover and set aside until ready to use.
4. Heat 2 tbsp of peanut oil in a large, nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add the tofu and fry on each side until golden brown. (Takes about 10 minutes per batch of tofu for me.) Tranfser to a large plate and cover with foil to keep warm.
5. In the same skillet, saute the red pepper and onions, adding more oil as necessary, for about 3 minutes.
6. Preheat a heavy-bottomed, medium-size sauce pan (In the interest of using fewer dishes, I did the above steps in a 10″, deep-sided cast iron skillet, transferred the peppers and onions to the tofu plate, and continued using the same skillet.) over medium heat.
7. Add the chile paste and cook for 2 minutes, stirring constantly.
8. Add the coconut milk and turn up the heat a bit. Mix together until the past is incorporated; bring to a low boil.
9. Add the maple syrup and lime juice, taste for sweetness, then add more syrup if necessary.
10. Place the tofu, peppers, and onions in the sauce and cover; cook for 5 minutes.
11. Add the basil and turn off the heat. Let sit for 5 minutes or so before serving with fresh cilantro for garnish.
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]]> http://www.nom-able.com/2009/02/46-days-of-vegetarianism-green-thai-curry/feed/ 0 http://www.nom-able.com/2009/02/46-days-of-vegetarianism-bbq-pomegranate-tofu/ http://www.nom-able.com/2009/02/46-days-of-vegetarianism-bbq-pomegranate-tofu/#comments Thu, 26 Feb 2009 01:10:37 +0000 Elizabeth Williams http://www.nom-able.com/?p=153

As an experiment of sorts, one of my 101 things to do in 1001 days (goals I set and began to work on this year instead of a resolution – with a due date of September 2011) was, in one year, to celebrate the major religious holidays of the world’s three main religions: Christianity, Judaism, and Islam. First up was Lent, and the tradition of giving up something you really like for 40 days (46, technically –- the Catholics who’ve counted the days between Ash Wednesday and Easter Sunday realize there are more than 40 days in lent and believe Sundays do not count. Others haven’t counted.) There was even a terrible movie that many people may or may not remember, 40 Days and 40 Nights, starring Josh Hartnet about a guy who gives up sex for that period of time.

What did I give up for Lent?

Meat.

Mostly as an excuse to plow through the recipes in Vegan with a Vengeance, but also because I thought that perhaps giving up meat would help with my weight loss. Because honestly, between you and me, I’m a kinda chubby girl, mostly due to eating a lot of crap — especially sweets. Writing this blog is half to keep up with recipes so I don’t lose them, but half is also to force me to give up the student’s diet of pizza, ramen, pizza, microwave meals that I’ve been following. If I have to blog my cooking, then I have to actually cook, and if I actually have to cook — and show a large audience what I’m cooking — I’m less likely to just throw a frozen bag meal in a pan for 30 minutes.

I mean, I COULD do that, but who’d want to read a blog about that. So I cook, but usually it’s still semi-homemade using recipes out of the Wegman’s quarterly magazine. Something had to give–and since food-based resolutions the hallmark of my family’s annual lent celebration, it made the most sense to try to give up something that’d force me to cook more complex and healthier dishes.

So, from now until 4/12/09 — it’s all vegetarian, all the time.



I’ve always been intimidated by tofu. Even after the success of the Brooklyn Pad Thai (which I remade recently just to verify its awesomeness) I’m still a bit leery of the spongey white stuff. I’ve wanted to do something with tofu that didn’t involve frying it — you know, that whole healthier thing — but was so scared of what would happen when I tried just broiling or grilling.  I mean, look at the photo on the cover of the book. Do those triangles of criss-crossed grill marks make you go “Oooh! NOM!” Because that’s tofu.

I was so wrong about not frying it first and will never make that mistake again. Even after two hours of pressing, that extra-spongy texture, like you’re eating cubes of mozzarella cheese? Yup, baked tofu has that; fried tofu does not. It was like eating the cheese cubes in palak panir or panir masala — and without appropriate curry, that’s not so good. So, going forward, it’s always thin slices fried to a crispy finish.

But was the sauce good? Oh YES! And the coconut rice? Delish! And it was just as good when microwaved for lunch the next day.



BBQ Pomegranate Tofu

From Vegan with a Vengeance : Over 150 Delicious, Cheap, Animal-Free Recipes That Rock by Isa Chandra Moskowitz

FOR THE TOFU

• 1 lb tofu, drained, pressed, and sliced into eigths
• 2 tbsps peanut oil
• 1 tbsp tamari

FOR THE BBQ SAUCE

• 1 tbsp peanut oil
• 1 cup shallots, minced
• 2 cloves minced garlic
• 1/2 tsp. Chinese fice-spice powder
• 2 c. vegetable broth
• A few dashes of black pepper
• 1 6-oz can of tomato paste
• 2 tbsp all-natural peanut butter (creamy)
• 2 tbsp pomegranate molasses
• 2 tbsp tamari
• 1/2 c. pure maple syrup
• 1 tsp hot sauce
• 1 tsp liquid smoke
• 1 c. pomegranate seeds

Preheat oven to 350. In a 9×13″ baking pan, turn the gofu in the peanut oil and tamari to coat on both sides. Bake for 15 minutes, then flip the slices and bake for 15 minutes more. Meanwhile, prepare for the sauce.

In a saucepan over medium heat, saute the shallots in the peanut oil for about 5 minutes, add the garlic and five-spice powder, and saute 1 minute more. Add the broth and bring to a simmer. Add the rest of the ingredients (except for the pomegranate seeds) and bring to a boil. Lower heat and simmer for 15 to 20 minutes, stirring frequently.

At this point, your tofu should be done baking. Smother the tofu with the BBQ sauce, return to the oven, and bake 15 minutes more. Remove from oven. Serve with Coconut Rice and garnish with the pomegranate seeds

.

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]]> http://www.nom-able.com/2009/02/46-days-of-vegetarianism-bbq-pomegranate-tofu/feed/ 0 http://www.nom-able.com/2009/01/best-ever-pumpkin-muffins/ http://www.nom-able.com/2009/01/best-ever-pumpkin-muffins/#comments Mon, 19 Jan 2009 20:19:20 +0000 Elizabeth Williams http://www.nom-able.com/?p=21

Until recently, if you asked me for a pumpkin muffin recipe, mine would be one handed down from a friend at my old job who got it from her friend who attends Weight Watchers meetings: mix one yellow cake mix with one can (15 oz) of pumpkin puree (not pie filling) and mix until blended. Bake according to package directions. Sometimes, to feel healthier, I’d add one or two tablespoons of my favorite ingredient, ground flax seeds, to the mix, but otherwise, it was pretty much the same. And the result was pretty much the same — uniform cake-like muffins of a neon orange color and smooth (except for the flax seeds) consistency.

Then, a funny thing happened on the way to the kitchen. One Sunday, I returned from taking David to work and found my parents (who we newlyweds were living with at the time) sitting up, waiting for me. As exchange for the free room and board, we did the grocery shopping and some light cleaning for them, and today, they wanted to talk to us about the list.

It turns out that when their radio alarm had gone off to wake them for church, a “doctor” had been on, talking about the health benefits of going vegan. For a diabetic with a heart condition, such as my father, veganism was the absolute answer to his weight gain and high cholesterol and blood sugar. Veganism would cure my mother’s thinning hair and weakening teeth. It was a miracle, to only be eclipsed by Jesus himself!



Having always been a meat and potatoes kind of Irish family, I was not only shocked but at a loss. What, exactly, would I  — or could they — cook? Other than salad and veggie burgers on vegan rolls (and let me tell you how hard it is to find a bread product commercially available that doesn’t include honey, whey, or some other animal product!) I couldn’t think of a thing for them to eat. So, I went to my local bookstore looking for a vegan cookbook for my pentioner parents.

The only vegan book in stock? Vegan with a Vengeance : Over 150 Delicious, Cheap, Animal-Free Recipes That Rock

The veganism thing lasted for five weeks, from the day after Easter until sometime in the summer, at which point the lure of Hebrew National hot dogs called them back to the meat-eaters. Not that they were particularly good vegans, mind you. Every now and then, my mom would sneak Morningstar Farms burgers instead of  the vegan Gardenburgers I’d bring home; my dad would get veggie burgers at Burger King. They’d both put honey in their tea and (when they learned they had to give up dairy) were buying Egg Beaters and Horizon organic cheese as “alternatives” — ignoring that both use egg and milk, respectively.

And all that time, there sat the little cookbook I found, waiting to be cracked open even once. For my parents, vegan meant prepackaged everything, leaving me (the grocery shopper) to read the labels and make sure what they were eating was vegan — an issue I quickly remedied by buying mostly Wegmans brand products, which are labeled on the front with a green V for vegan. One day, curious, I cracked open the book and the pages fell almost immediately to the Best Pumpkin Muffins.

Best? Oh really?

Yes, really.



The Best Pumpkin Muffins

Adapted from Vegan with a Vengeance : Over 150 Delicious, Cheap, Animal-Free Recipes That Rock by Isa Chandra Moskowitz

Ingredients

• 1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 1/4 cups sugar
• 1 tablespoon baking powder
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1/2 teaspoon ground or freshly grated nutmeg
• 1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
• 1/4 teaspoon ground allspice
• 1/8 teaspoon ground cloves
• 1 cup pureed pumpkin (Fresh or from a can; do not use pumpkin pie mix)
• 1/2 cup soy milk
• 1/2 cup vegetable oil
• 2 tablespoons molasses

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 400°F. Lightly grease a twelve-muffin tin.
2. Sift together flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, and spices. (Ed. Note: I added 2 tbsp of ground flax seed to the dry mix for extra nutrition.)
   
3. In a separate bowl, whisk together pumpkin, soy milk, oil, and molasses. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry and mix.
4. Fill the muffin cups two-thirds full. Bake for 18 to 20 minutes, until a toothpick or knife inserted in the center comes out clean.
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]]> http://www.nom-able.com/2009/01/best-ever-pumpkin-muffins/feed/ 0 http://www.nom-able.com/2009/01/brooklyn-pad-thai-this-is-how-i-fu/ http://www.nom-able.com/2009/01/brooklyn-pad-thai-this-is-how-i-fu/#comments Sun, 04 Jan 2009 13:51:30 +0000 Elizabeth Williams http://www.nom-able.com/?p=41

If you could define my relationship with vegan foods and vegan cooking, it would come down to this–I hate tofu. On several occassions, I’ve tried eating the stuff–as steaks cooked in sweet and sour sauce, as cubes in an Amy’s teriyaki bowl, as filling in a vegan lasagna–and the result is always the same: nausea. I’ve known people who swear by the stuff, whose unwaivering love of this pale brick soy bean curd has lead them to name their cat “Tofu”, but tofu has never been right with me.

It’s the texture, the spongey icky evil of a smelly, slick white block of chewy nothing, that makes me so offended. Not that tofu should feel bad. I also refuse, unequivically, to eat okra because of the way raw okra turns to unswallowable slime in your mouth once you’ve chewed it. I also won’t eat certain fish because the texture is too tofu-like. So it needn’t feel particularly unloved.

That was, until Friday night.



Isa Chandra Moskowitz, however, is a consummate cook, and her recipe for “Brooklyn Pad Thai” from Vegan with a Vengeance : Over 150 Delicious, Cheap, Animal-Free Recipes That Rock does, in fact, rock. It rocks hard core. It made both David and myself, in fact, like tofu. And when I say like, I mean when I went to put the leftovers in the fridge, there wasn’t a piece of fried tofu left to be seen.

The secret, for us, is pressing and frying. Yes, tofu takes on the flavor of whatever you cook it in, but flavor isn’t enough for texture junkies like us who buy high-thread-count bedsheets when we’re broke and are particular about the fibers our clothes are made from because tactile sensation is the most important thing in the world. Sure, I wouldn’t eat a slice of ham no matter how awesome the texture was, but I will turn up my nose at the best flavor cake — and I’m a sugar junkie — if it’s too dry and the crumb isn’t exactly so.

The last time I complained about tofu–after a failed attempt at a vegan lasagna that tasted of tomato sauce and nothing due to the ‘fu cheeses that did not, in fact, melt as promised–a friend said that the secret was pressing. You press the tofu, press again, and then when you think you’ve drained its little guts out, you press some more. Taking this to heart, David wrapped the tofu in a towel when he got home from work, and stacked three hardback cookbooks on top. An hour later, I got home from work, we sat around for a bit while I fought with Amazon.com over some Christmas gifts that still haven’t arrived, and then we went grocery shopping. We returned, unpacked the groceries, and only after I’d made the pad thai sauce did I un press and unwrap the tofu.

The plate was damp with moisture our absorbent kitchen towel could not soak up.

But extreme pressing alone was not the only trick. Thinly slicing the tofu and frying it until it had a brown crust on both sides created the best tofu I’ve ever eaten. Nom-able tofu is no longer the stuff of urban legand.



The recipe calls for rice noodles; however rice noodles are quite pricey at our local grocery store, and much like the tamarind paste I know I had once upon a time, our former housemates (my parents) seem to have helped themselves to quite a few of our ingredients we boxed up. One thing they didn’t touch, however, was the ten packets of TopRamen I brought home when I moved back in after college.

Ah ramen, is there anything you can’t do?



Other substitutions because of this situation followed. Our peanut oil disappeared; we used a half-bottle of seasame instead. No tamarind paste? Well, Isa says we can use lime instead! Bean sprouts? I hate those, so those were out. And if there’s no peanut oil, it’s silly to put peanuts in, right?

So, I guess really mine was more of a Jersey Girl Pad Thai.



Then came the lemongrass. Because we’re trying to eat on a budget, we’d planned for this meal (based on what we had in our food box according to our packing list — not according to what was in their after my mother “helped” repack) and bought a bundle of two piece of lemongrass. I didn’t think much of it–the recipe will have directions on what to do with this, right?

“1 tablespoon of lemongrass, minced”

What the hell? What do I mince? I mean, this is like grass, right? What’s the edible bit?

I stood there, staring at this long, stiff plant, contemplating its existence, when I finally thought to just look it up on Wikipedia:

Lemon grass is native to India. It is widely used as a herb in Asian cuisine. It has a citrus flavour and can be dried and powdered, or used fresh.

Lemon grass is commonly used in teas, soups, and curries. It is also suitable for poultry, fish, and seafood. It is often used as a tea in African and Latino-American countries (e.g., Togo, Mexico, DR Congo).

Well, that was helpful. Thanks so much.

In the end, I started from the bottom and began mincing like an idiot. A few minute later, we had a tablespoon of the stuff, with much more to spare. I wonder how long lemongrass keeps?



Brooklyn Pad Thai

Adapted from Vegan with a Vengeance : Over 150 Delicious, Cheap, Animal-Free Recipes That Rock

Ingredients

1 lb rice noodles

FOR THE SAUCE

• 6 tbsp tamari
• 6 tbsp sugar
• 2 tbsp tomato paste
• 2 tbsp Asian hot chile sauce or hot sauce (we used tobasco. It’s what we had)
• 1/4 c. rice wine vinegar
• 3 tbsp tamarind concentrate or lime juice (we used lime juice – fresh)

FOR THE PAD THAI

• 6 tbsp peanut oil (we used sesame – making it kind of pan-asian pad thai)
• 1 lb tofu, drained and pressed and cut into small triangles
• 1 medium size red onion, cut in half and thinly sliced
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 tbsp finely minced lemongrass
• 2 cups bean sprouts (I hate these and did not use them)
• 8 scallions (green onion) sliced into 1 1/2″ lengths
• 2 small dried red chiles, crumbled
• 1/2 c. chopped roasted peanuts
• 1/4 c. chopped fresh cilantro
• Lime wedges for serving

Instructions

1. Prepare rice noodles according to package directions.
2. Mix together the ingredients for the sauce.
3. Preheat a large nonstick skillet or wok over moderate-high heat. Pour 2 tablespoons of the peanut oil into the pan and heat, then quickly add the tofu. Stir-fy for 4-5 minutes, until the tofu is crisp on the outside. Remove from pan and set aside. (This step took me 5 minutes per side, though I was using a seasoned cast-iron skillet instead of non-stick and different oil.)
4. Pour two tablespoons more of the peanut oil into the pan. Add half of the red onion and stir-fry for 30 seconds. Add half the garlic and half the lemongrass, and stir-fry for 30 seconds more. Add half of the sauce and, when it starts to bubble (should bubble within a few seconds), add half the noodles. Cook for 2 minutes, stirring constantly, then add half the tofu, bean sprouts, scallions, chiles, and peanuts. Stir for 30 more seconds. Transfer to two serving plates and garnish with cilantro and lime wedges. Repeat with remaining ingredients.
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