Wednesday Food Blogging

Black Bean and Chipotle Dip

 

Black Bean and Chipotle Dip

I wanted to bring something spooky to a Halloween party we were invited to. Although I have plenty of cobwebs hanging around Chez Flake, I decided to go with something more edible. A can of black beans seemed an appropriate starting point. After all, black is the traditional Halloween color, right? 

I dug up my recipe from the cauldron—err, hard drive, but decided it needed more kick. Fortunately, I had a can of chipotle peppers I was saving for a rainy day. Just the thing to add smoky—if not spooky—pizzazz. 

This recipe is flexible. I actually added another half can of beans, and adjusted the spiced accordingly. You or your guests may not be heat tolerant, in which case you'd want to hold down the number of peppers. (I used two whole peppers, each equivalent to about a tablespoon.) 

I whizzed this up in my food processor (which is what we modern witches use these days) and scooped it into a pepper-shaped dish. Since I was already wearing my costume (yes, I went as a modern witch, in jeans and black turtleneck) I grabbed a bag of blue corn tortilla chips, and nipped over to the party on my broom—err, Mercedes. 

May your Halloween be as trouble free. 

Farinata with Red Onion and Spinach Yogurt Sauce

See? Gram flour isn't just for Indian food. 

If you thought all Italian food had to be veganized in order to fit your vegan diet, think again. Many Italian dishes are naturally vegan, but that's not the Italian food that's sold in your corner Italian restaurant—unless you're in Italy. Different regions of Italy have special ways of cooking their lovely vegetables and legumes. In Liguria in northern Italy, chickpea flour, called gram flour, is made into an egg-less batter, baked into a flat cake, and served as an appetizer or part of a main dish. 

I served mine with a bowl of thick ribollita soup, and a side dollop of spinach yogurt. You could omit the yogurt (I made mine with soy yogurt) or try another condiment. But do remember to start well in advance of serving: the mixture needs to sit for a couple of hours, then spend 20 minutes in a hot oven, plus another 15 minutes to cool enough to slice.

Since chickpea flour is high in protein (try to ignore the f-word) you could think of it as the protein portion of your meal. And when you're asked for the zillionth time "where do vegans get their protein?" you could just say "From farinata."*

That should shut them up, since they won't want to admit they haven't a clue what farinata is. They'll just imagine you eating some sort of vegan flank steak and quit worrying about where you get your lovely protein.

•Not to be confused with focaccia, of course.

Here's how: 

My Meatless Monday

I'm starting something new here, at least until I forget. Every Monday I'll tell you what I ate for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. 

The concept of Meatless Monday has been gaining steam, even becoming cool. It occurred to me that many people still have no idea of what an entire day of meatless meals looks like.

I wish my meals today were more cool, but this is a reality program...err, blog. 

For breakfast, I had wheat chex with banana and soymilk. (Get used to this folks; I rarely deviate from cereal/soymilk breakfast.)

For lunch, I warmed up leftovers: linguine noodles with mushroom stroganoff, made with soy cream. (This is a deviation—I almost always have a PB&J sandwich and chips/crisps. But Ocado smushed my bread.)

For dinner, leftovers again: Butterbeans (cooked yesterday from dry) topped with minced garlic and basil, drizzled with olive oil and a squirt of lemon juice; kale drizzled with cider vinegar and Tabasco; brown rice and leftover cornbread. (The addition of fresh garlic and drizzled olive oil was inspired by this, about Ikaria, a Blue Zone where people regularly live past 90.)

And two glasses of red wine.

Next Monday I'll try to plan something more exciting, less drizzly. I'll also try to take photos. 

Feel free to add your own day's worth of meals in Comments.

Onion Bhajis

The free-form shape of the Onion Bhajis allows more Tamarind Chutney to cling to their edges.

I could almost file this one under "Desserts", it's that yummy. Especially when served with Date & Tamarind chutney, Onion Bhajis are morsels of sweet, crisp, deep-fried deliciousness. 

But, you know, the onions—not a dessert ingredient. So we'll file them under "Appetizers" for now. But taste them, and tell me they're not good enough to eat for dessert. Or breakfast. Or anytime you desire a delicious snack. 

They're easy to make, too. I know, you can buy bhajis pre-made here in England, but why bother? Slice up a couple of onions, loosely mix the batter, and let the mixture sit while you heat the oil. I don't actually deep-fry them, by the way. I merely fry them in about half an inch (or a centimeter) of canola (rapeseed) oil. Which I promise is (sorta) good for you. 

And do try to find Date and Tamarind Chutney. (Link provided below.) Otherwise, use plain tamarind chutney. These bhajis melt in your mouth when accompanied by sweet tamarind chutney.

Here's how: