Category Archives: storytelling

November 28, 2011 · 11:15 pm

Thanksgiving Memories and Leftovers: Turkey Burritos!

     Thanksgiving is one of those holidays where bits and pieces of memories from years past weave their way through my mind creating a rich Thanksgiving tapestry of sorts.  So many stories come to mind and whole scenes from different eras in my life and lessons learned.
     When I was a young kid, Thanksgiving was not an extended family affair. This was because my parents were both European, and not only was our extended family too far away, they also didn’t celebrate Thanksgiving.  My parents, who became US citizens of their own right, were dedicated to all American Holidays, however, and to make the occasion grand they always arranged for a traditional Thanksgiving feast and for us to share the day with family friends.
     Thus, even though I am of European descent, my memories of Thanksgiving as a kid include the sound of American football playing on the TV in the background, a bowl of whole nuts next to a roaring fire, and a very traditional feast with Turkey, cornbread, stuffing, rolls, some decadent vegetables/cream/cheese casserole, yams or sweet potatoes and of course mashed potatoes and gravy.  My favorite dish was the stuffing – specifically my mom’s version – which she must have had to figure out on her own without the benefit of family tradition . . . the torch got passed, however, and when I first got married and realized we wouldn’t be able to make it home for Thanksgiving, I called my mom to get her recipe.  (Below is the well-loved index card where I recorded her recipe.)
     The morning was always dedicated to cooking, the afternoon to eating and the balance of the evening to playing games. Pie and a walk generally happened at some point during the evening festivities.  In those days, the ultimate goal was to stay up long enough to have a turkey sandwich at midnight!
     Beyond the basics of the day, my memories of Thanksgiving also come with thoughts of gratitude and grace.  There have been many Thanksgivings where one or another person held us spellbound as they recited their version of grace, or where they shared their grandmother’s favorite grace, or made up their own, or where we all contributed and reflected on what we were thankful for.
     But I remember one Thanksgiving learning about another kind of grace too.  On this Thanksgiving we had been invited to my Auntie Jeanie’s house (she was a beloved adopted “auntie”). . . and now just thinking of her immediately makes me recall the moment, while she was in the process of dying, that she asked me to speak her eulogy, and me in reflecting on her beautiful life and it’s undeniable impact on me and those around her, summed her life up in two words: “dignity and grace.” Auntie Jeannie was lovely and charming  through and through.
     On this particular Thanksgiving, as we all sat down to dinner, we became aware that a Thanksgiving Day travesty had occurred:  the turkey was burned to an absolute crisp.  Auntie Jeannie, however, did not fret for even a second.  She never apologized.  She never worried about her cooking or what we all might be thinking or what we were going to do without a turkey.  She simply put the charcoal black turkey on a beautiful serving platter in the middle of the table and said simply “Oh, it looks bit black”.  Not a single additional word was said.  And, with that leadership, we all took heed and turned the focus back to each other and the conversation to more interesting topics.  There was plenty of other food and we feasted gloriously, turkey or not.
     To me this simple act captured the essence of grace.  She knew instinctively what was important that day–and the fact that she had burned the turkey was not the most important thing, not even worthy of further comment really.  We were, after all, ultimately most grateful to be spending the day together and enjoying each other’s company.
—
     Now so many years later, our Thanksgiving feast has had to change to accommodate wheat free, meat free, sugar free dietary constraints.  Thus many of the stalwart favorites that seem to be the cornerstones of a Thanksgiving feast are not options–is this a travesty?  Not a chance–no matter what ultimately ends up on the table, we get to spend the day together cooking and conversing – what could be better?
     Below is our menu from this year’s Thanksgiving feast:
·      One small turkey breast (for the non-vegetarians)
·      One Quorn Turk’y Roast (a meat-free, non soy product)
·      Gluten Free Vegetarian stuffing (see below)
·      Mashed Potatoes
·      Vegetarian Gravy (Allrecipes.com)
·      Red Onion, Orange and Grapefruit salad
·      Green Beans with shallots and onions (WholeFoodsmarket.com)
·      Sweet Potato and Pistachio Quinoa (Food.com)
·      Stevia Sweetened Pumpkin Pie in a nut crust
     I don’t plan to write out all the recipes–just the gluten free vegetarian stuffing, (But, if you are interested, feel free to contact me for any of the recipes above) It was a fabulous feast!  Old stories were told and new ones were born . . . .
Gluten Free Vegetarian Stuffing:
Mom’s recipe                                                Udi’s                                                Mine
1 lb loose pork sausage – spiced with salt, pepper, nutmeg, sage, poultry seasoning
Omit –see seasonings added below
Prepared spiced bread crumbs (Pepperidge Farms)
1 loaf Udi’s Whole Grain Gluten Free Bread; 1 loaf Udi’s White Sandwich Gluten Free Bread
1 loaf Schar Classic White gluten free bread; ½ loaf gluten free rye bread
2 -3 onions chopped
2 onions chopped
2 onions chopped
Chopped celery (lots)
½ cup chopped celery
1+ cups chopped celery
Homemade chicken broth
1 cup low sodium chicken broth
1 cup vegetable broth
1 egg optional
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
2 eggs, lightly beaten
chopped parsley
½ cup heavy cream
½ cup heavy cream
¼ cup chopped flat parsley
1 Tbl chopped flat parsley
3 Tbl chopped fresh sage
3 Tbl chopped fresh sage
½ cup chopped fennel
1 Tbl ground fennel seed
Some of mom’s seasonings added to taste:  nutmeg, rosemary, thyme
Salt and pepper to taste
Salt and pepper to taste
Salt and pepper to tasteMom’s version:  Fry pork then sauté onions in pork fat
··    Mom’s version:  Fry pork then sauté onions in pork fat
·      Gluten Free version – make bread cubes:
o   toast bread and cut into cubes, put in a bowl with parsley sage, salt and pepper
·      Vegetarian version:  sauté onion in olive oil
·      To onion mixture add fennel, celery
·      Combine onion mixture with bread crumbs  and add eggs, stock, cream and gently toss
·      Add any extra seasoning to taste
·      Transfer to a buttered shallow baking dish and bake covered for 30 minutes at 325 degrees; to brown cook uncovered for an additional 20 minutes
——-
So Thanksgiving, 2011 has come and gone, but I will leave you with one final postscript and my favorite recipe using Thanksgiving leftovers, which I picked up from my mother-in-law and which has become a tradition in our house too:
Turkey Burritos!
These turkey burritos are no ordinary burritos —no these infamous burritos include all the thanksgiving dinner leftovers:
·      mashed potatoes
·      turkey (cut into cubes) or Quorn
·      stuffing
·      green beans or other vegetable casserole
·      gravy
·      sweet potatoes
·      cranberry sauce
·      everything! – all mixed up in one big skillet.
     After heating and mixing all the leftovers in one big skillet, you wrap it all up in a tortilla (corn or flour) and add a little homemade salsa (tomatoes, onions, and jalapeno) and voila! Yum!!! – McCandless Family Turkey Burrito leftovers — perfect peasant cooking food.
     So, take a look in your fridge – are there still Thanksgiving Day leftovers?  Forget about Turkey soup – make Turkey Burritos.  You will love them.

And last but not least my mom’s stuffing recipe, faithfully recorded and, as I mentioned, showing much love from Thanksgivings past . . .

 

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November 19, 2011 · 7:43 pm

Lummi Island Holiday, Howard, and Hot and Sour Soup

     What would Thanksgiving be without Hot and Sour Soup?  Such is the tradition in our family . . . 
     It’s funny how traditions get started and then how they get maintained.  As a family grows, you come to develop your own rituals and quirks.  We celebrate birthdays in the morning, for instance, by waking the birthday person up early singing and bearing tea, breakfast in bed and presents.  True – it is slightly tormenting – but sweet!  Over the years, when the kids were young and we were all living in the same state, we figured out how and where to celebrate different holidays, delegating Thanksgiving to Lummi Island at my in laws up on Lummi Island and Easter to Whidbey Island at my parents.  (Were we spoiled or what?!!) Both developed into unique and festive extended family occasions with certain ritual traditions.  Hot and Sour Soup on Thanksgiving Eve became one of those cherished traditions. 
     It was started many years ago by my father-in-law, Howard.  Howard had an interesting life, growing up one of 14 kids on a farm in Pennsylvania and ending up on six acres of forest on a tiny island, Lummi Island, in the Pacific Northwest.  He made his way on the island as handy man and house remodeler, and was plenty busy taking care of his customers, but he always a few other interests going as well, such as building his own home from the ground up, and he wasn’t afraid to start learning something new.  Well into his middle age he took up saxophone, for instance, and for a while studied and grew bonsai trees.  Then there was his stint as a volunteer fireman and his hobby for fixing up old cars, which ultimately led to converting an old shed to a complete paint shop and resulted in a gorgeous poppy orange fully converted 1965 mustang. 
     But the hobby I want to talk about, is the time he decided to learn how cook Chinese food and, in particular, his interest in perfecting Hot and Sour Soup.  It all culminated around Thanksgiving one year.  This particular year when we arrived on Lummi the evening before as we were inclined to do to prolong the holiday, we were greeted with a steaming bowl of homemade Hot and Sour Soup – oh my was that delicious after our longish drive with young kids!!–peppery hot, in a rich broth with soft bits and crunchy bits and all sorts of new and interesting flavors.  It was an instant hit.  “How did you make this?” we cried out – “it’s wonderful!”.  “Oh it’s no big deal,” he said, pleased that we appreciated it. “You just throw a bunch of ingredients into the pot.”  (yum, just my kind of meal!)
    And so it came to be that each year as we approached Thanksgiving, we’d beg Howard  “Please make Hot and Sour Soup again!!!!  We have to have it!!”  For truthfully, even though we would always also have a gorgeous traditional Thanksgiving feast – it was our secret favorite part.  Thanksgiving Eve had to start with Hot and Sour Soup and then after all the gorging was over, the perfect night cap was a little bowl of Hot and Sour Soup to end it all too.
     Howard passed away in August several years ago now (although he still visits me in my dreams from time to time), and I remember as we were approaching Thanksgiving that year, it suddenly dawned on me that he wouldn’t be there to make the Hot and Sour Soup! – a small thing, I know, but somehow important.  I realized that this had become a beloved tradition in our family and the baton had to be passed along.  If we waited too long, his recipe might be lost.
     I called Sandy on the spot and asked her did she know where Howard kept his recipe for Hot and Sour Soup because I wanted to carry on the tradition and make it.  She thought she did and hunted through the kitchen announcing she had it along with his notes from his different trials and errors.  She started reading and I realized I didn’t even have a paper and pen handy.  I grabbed the nearest thing I could find – a bank deposit envelope – and furiously began scribbling as Sandy looked through his books and notes.  I ran out of space and had to open the envelope up and keep writing on the other side.  Sandy and I cried as we interpreted and copied his notes, but it was a good cry . . .
     That year, and every year since, I’ve made Howard’s Hot and Sour Soup–adding a couple touches of my own and now making a vegetarian version too.  I keep thinking I should transcribe the notes I took that day – but I can never do it.  I love that tear water and food stained bank envelope.  It captures perfectly that moment of realizing we had to continue Howard’s tradition and invites me to intentionally pause to remember all the little things about him and about that era when the whole extended family got together – before we got relocated across the country, before the kids grew up and went away to college, before Howard died.
     So, as a prelude to some recipes from the rest of our equally unusual Thanksgiving Feast– which this year will be Meat Free, Wheat Free, and Sugar Free . . . I share with you my favorite part of the annual feast:
Howard’s Hot and Sour Thanksgiving Eve Soup 
(serves 6 as is – but we usually triple it)
 
    Howard’s version                                                My vegetarian adaptations and notes:
6 cups chicken broth
6 cups vegetable broth
2 – 3” squares of firm tofu (1 package)
Note:  cut these in matchsticks
½ lb pork – cut in 1/8” wide strips
Omit
Tofu/Pork marinade:
        1 tsp soy sauce
I use wheat free tamari
        1 tsp rice wine vinegar
        ½ tsp cornstarch
        ¼ tsp dark sesame oil
6 dried Chinese black mushrooms or shiitake 
Note:  soak these for 15 – 30 minutes in very hot water , drain and shred 
10 wood ears
Note:  soak these in a different bowl in very hot water, cut off hard edges and shred 
8 Tiger Lily buds ( I add these)
2/3 small can bamboo shoots
Note: drained and slivered
One small can water chestnuts
Note:  drained and sliced
Combine:
   3 ½ Tbl cornstarch and 7 Tbl water
Combine:
   3 Tbl soy sauce
I use wheat free tamari
   3 Tbl rice wine vinegar
   3 Tbl minced ginger
   2 Tbl minced scallions
   2 tsp sesame oil
   1 tsp pepper (or to taste)
Note:  sometimes I use white pepper too
2 large eggs beaten lightly
1 tsp each salt and sugar
(I don’t worry about this much sugar)
2 Tbl rice wine vinegar
Green onions minced for garnish
     A note about the ingredients in this recipe.  There are really only 3 unusual ingredients in this recipe:  chinese black mushrooms or shiitake, wood ears (another mushroom) and Tiger Lily buds all of which you can find at an asian grocery.  Tiger Lily’s are the only ingredient that you probably have to go to an oriental grocery store for.  Usually you can find the dried black mushrooms or shiitake and the wood ears at a store like Whole Foods.  You can make this without the Tiger Lily buds.
 
     You will need several bowls for combining different portions of this recipe.
In bowl #1 combine:
  • 1 tsp soy sauce (tamari)
  • 1 tsp rice wine/vinegar
  • ½ tsp cornstarch
  • ¼ tsp sesame oil
  • pork slices. 
  • Set aside for 25 minutes
Note:  I don’t use pork so I marinade my tofu in this mixture – adding more in the proper ratio if needed
In bowl #2 soak:
  • 6 dried Chinese black mushrooms in very hot water for about 15 minutes, then drain and shred
In bowl #3 soak:
  • 10 wood ear in very hot water – cut off hard edges and shred
In bowl #4 combine:
  • 3 Tbl soy sauce (tamari)
  • 3 Tbl rice wine vinegar
  • 3 Tbl minced ginger
  • 2 Tbl minced scallions
  • 2 tsp sesame oil
  • 1 tsp pepper (you may add more later to taste)
In a large pot bring the following to a boil:
  • 6 cups of broth (you may choose to add more later)
  • 1 tsp each sugar and salt
  • 2 Tbl rice wine vinegar (or a little less)

Add:

  •      Pork mixture
  •      Tofu (cut into matchsticks)
  •      Black Mushrooms, Wood Ear and Tiger Lily buds
  •      Bamboo shoots
  •      Water chestnuts

Bring back to boil then skim off froth and add: 

  • Cornstarch mixture (3 ½ Tbl cornstarch + 7 Tbl water) to large pot

Cook 1 minute to thicken, then remove from heat and add:

  • 2 large beaten eggs by stirring them into the big pot with a chopstick
  • Soy sauce (tamari) mixture from bowl #4
Taste and determine if more rice vinegar or pepper is needed
—–
     And here, capturing my own wabi sabi method for preserving recipes, the bank envelope on which I furiously scribbled Howard’s recipe:
 
 

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November 16, 2011 · 7:52 am

Mexican Adventures, Coming Home and Tortilla Soup

     The signature recipe at our house has become “Tortilla Soup” and for me it signifies coming home. Just the words alone immediately bring to mind the joy of being surrounded by family and friends.  Tortilla Soup has become the recipe we fix every time the kids come home from college, the recipe we choose to greet travelers after a long flight, the one we choose when we want a new friend to feel relaxed and comfortable at our house. It captures, for me, the quintessential essence of peasant cooking at its best–not exactly stone soup, but a kind of “condiment” soup (with all sorts of extras that can be added according to the tastes and desires of the tastee)–and of course there is always the fact that it comes with a Mexican flair!  
     Mexico comes with somewhat of a bad rap these days, but for not for me. Mexico is near and dear to my heart.  I’ve been to Mexico over 20 times and many of them have been wild and wonderful adventures. Making Tortilla Soup for me is an opportunity to choose from a collection of memories (sort of thought condiments) to flavor my day–which ones do I want to taste and smell and remember today?
     If I am very relaxed I might remember the summer I met my husband and we drove down to San Carlos and camped on the beach.  I learned to spear fish and caught my one and only fish on the first try–mostly to prove I could do it–after that I always seemed to subtly jerk my hand at the last moment and miss . . . I remember that while driving back home on that trip my car broke down in Tijuana and in the space of an instant, I completely panicked, convinced we would never make it back home – we’d become destitute living on the streets of Tijuana – we’d end up in a Tijuana jail (you know how the mind gets going sometimes. . .) Jay said he’d never let that happen; he would make sure we found our way home even if he had to push the car all the way back over the border.  I believed him 100% and probably fell in love that day. 
     I might remember another time, like when we drove from Washington State to the Yucatan Peninsula in an old Toyota truck with an orange wooden canopy – the thing required us to change the spark plugs about every 100 miles and looked so bad even the Mexicans felt sorry for us . . . but we had treasures hidden beneath the scruffy exterior (kind of like we all do) including scuba gear, an air compressor, an inflatable boat and engine.  We made our way across the country to “La Playa Mas Bonita Del Mundo” – the most beautiful beach in the world — where we built a hut on the beach from driftwood and palm fronds, and spent days scuba diving and living off our catch.  It was paradise . . . until I got barracuda poisoning . . .
     In later years, we found ourselves smack dab in the middle of a mid-life crisis and decided to escape what we saw as the rut and rat race of suburban living and move with our four and seven year old girls to a remote fishing village in Mexico, called Yelapa.  I always thought living in Yelapa was something like life as described in the Little House on the Prairie books.  There were no cars, no phones, no electricity . . . we walked everywhere and our days were divided between walking to the big beach for fun and entertainment – a twenty minute walk away one way– homeschooling, and walking to one of the three tiny little grocery stores to pick up food for that day’s meal – oh and checking for scorpions  . . . I could write a book about our experiences living in a Palapa in Yelapa . . . but suffice it to say, it was there we came to fully appreciate Mexican cooking: handmade tortillas picked up fresh from a local woman, young coconuts for drinking pulled right off the tree, papaya sprinkled with lime juice, mangoes, black beans, cheese, cilantro, rice, tomatoes, jalapenos, fresh caught seafood . . . oh Yum!
     My Tortilla Soup condiment thoughts can just as easily transport me to the quiet space of a meditation retreat, for we traveled many times to partake in one that took place in an enchanting old hacienda hundreds of years old set in the hills above Taxco.  It was essentially a mini village with cobblestone roads, its own church, a swimming pool, multiple impressive stone edifices, mysterious ruins up vine covered trails, and abundant loquat trees–it was pretty much like being on a Harry Potter set–so magical and the people so wonderful and the ashrama so still.  Our teacher used to say that the Mexican people were the closest to God and Mexico was the heart of the World.
     That is certainly true for me, for it was in Mexico–on a women’s journey led by a toltec shaman and a Mayan priestess and with women from all over the world, that the veil–the one that keeps us from fully experiencing the astonishing sacredness of life–lifted, and I found my way home to my own heart . . .
     It was immediately after this sacred journey to the heart in Mexico that we were moved across the country to Chapel Hill, North Carolina and it was there that I learned to make Tortilla Soup.  Luckily for me, the heart of Chapel Hill was Whole Foods, which was located a convenient 6 minutes from my house.  Whole Foods became the source from which I would try to re-establish a feeling of home for our relocated family, who were all missing the companionship and comfort of extended family and friends. 
     During this time, I would wander through the aisles of Whole Foods in bliss–all the beautiful vibrant produce seemed to be glowing–and all our food sensitivities were easily accommodated with healthy and interesting options! I loved going to Whole Foods.  It became the center of my day.  It wasn’t long before I purchased the Whole Foods Cookbook and discovered their recipe for Tortilla Soup. I have copied below the page from the original Whole Foods Cookbook I bought nine years ago.  You can see it is a well-loved page.  I’ve added a few of my own touches, but not too many.  Tortilla Soup has become our family’s comfort food, a symbol of being home, and to this day it regularly graces our table.
—
     Well, it seems like it is time to let loose the memories and get on with joy of cooking itself . . . We have an old friend visiting, one that co-incidentally also visited us when we lived in Yelapa.  He is a vegan and this recipe is very easy to make vegan.
     Today is a Tortilla Soup kind of day . . . (but my daughter warns me another one better be just around the corner because she is coming home next week . . . .)
Tortilla Soup (adapted from the Whole Foods Market Cookbook)
Original Spicy Chicken version:                      Vegetarian/Vegan substitutes and
other alternatives I use:
 1/8 cup canola oil
(I usually use olive oil)
1 medium red pepper, seeded and chopped
Note:  I use whatever color peppers I have and often add orange and yellow peppers because it looks pretty
1 medium green pepper, seeded and chopped
1 medium red onion, chopped
Note:  I usually use a sweet white onion instead
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 tsp dried oregano or 1/8 cup fresh
1 tsp cumin
Note:  I always hand grind my whole cumin and add a little extra
¾ tsp chili powder
Note:  different chili powders taste different, so experiment to see what you like – I use the one Costco sells
1 jalapeno, chopped and seeded
Leave some seeds in for extra heat
1 can diced canned tomatoes with juice
I use organic canned tomatoes or fresh
4 cups water or chicken broth
4 cups vegetable broth
(Note:  I always make it with broth and like the organic Pacific brand for both vegetable and Free Range Chicken)
1 -2 organic free range chicken breasts
(I cut these up into bite size pieces before putting it in the soup – Note:  this is easy to do with frozen breasts)
Omit for vegetarian option
1 (15 ounce) can black beans, drained and rinsed
I use either organic Eden or Goya
2 cups fresh or frozen corn kernels
I use organic frozen usually
½ cup minced cilantro
I serve mine on the side
Salt to taste
The Condiments:
Minced cilantro
Diced ripe avocado
Grated pepper or Monterey jack cheese
Vegan soy or other imitation cheese
Extra jalapenos chopped
Handmade tortillas strips (recipe below)
I buy a stack of the inexpensive Mexican brand sold at local grocery stores
Yoghurt or sour cream
·       Heat the oil in a deep dutch oven over medium high heat
·       Saute the peppers, onion, garlic, oregano, cumin and chili powder for 3 minute, until the onion is translucent, stirring often. 
·       Add the jalapeno and tomatoes; continue stirring for one minute
·       Add the broth and the chicken pieces
·       Bring to a boil, reduce heat and simmer uncovered for 20 minutes
·       Add the black beans and corn and return the soup to a boil, then reduce to low simmer and season with salt.
·       Prepare the cilantro, avocado, cheese, jalapeno and yoghurt condiments and place in separate serving bowls for each guest to add to their own soup
·       Prepare the handmade tortillas strips (hint– it is key to make your own):
o   Take a stack of tortillas about 1 -2 inches high and cut in half; then stack both halves on top of each other and make 1/8 inch wide slices through all layers to make strips
o   Cover the bottom of a frying pan with oil; 
o   Heat the oil over medium heat
o   Sprinkle the hand cut strips over the oil; season generously with salt
o   Stir and turn the strips until they brown and get little crunchy
o   Serve these separately for guests to add to their soup.
—–
     And here it is – the well loved page from my Whole Foods Market Cookbook:
 

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November 11, 2011 · 1:11 am

Peasant Cooking, Storytelling, and Swiss Potato Soup

     I think of myself as a “peasant cook” –not really sure how I came up with the term, it just feels right.  I have learned since that there is an entire Facebook page dedicated to “peasant cooking”.  Well, for me, the term  captures the essence of using what is available, substituting liberally, usually ending up with a “one pot” meal (and a particular propensity for soups.) I think of peasant cooking as earthy, magical,  and messy rather than beautiful, refined,  and gourmet.   For me it is a hands on sensual art that reverts to simple tools, rather than technology. I think of my kitchen as my hearth – a place where people gather for warmth and comfort, for good nourishing food, and to swap stories – and I like that it contains the word “heart”  within it, because ultimately that is what cooking (and story telling) is for me–an expression and extension of love.
     Cooking wasn’t always this way for me.  When my children were younger I had begun to think of cooking as a chore–something that had to be done, rather than something I wanted to do.  Various members of my family had allergies, so it became necessary for our meals to be gluten free, sugar free and eventually vegetarian or at least optionally vegetarian.  At the time there was very little prepared food that met these criteria so I had to cook everything from scratch.  I realized one day that I had adopted an attitude that all the work involved in cooking was not appreciated (not that that was true . . . just what I thought . . .)
     I decided to offer myself encouragement–since it was obvious the need for cooking was not going to go away.  Every day that I set dinner down on the table I made a little proclamation “Oh my goodness, can you believe it!  I did it again – I actually made dinner and got it to the table!!”  This caused some giggling from the half pints and as I continued day after day to make these proclamations at dinner, the whole idea caught on.  Pretty soon, the kids were the ones who would say “Look Mom – you did it again!  You fixed us a yummy dinner!!”  That was the start.  Then I discovered that all the allergies I had to contend with were a huge blessing in disguise for it led me down avenues I never would have considered and forced me to research, to get involved.  I started investigating ethnic recipes – Mexican, Thai, Japanese, Ethiopian, Korean, Chinese, Latin American, German, Swedish, Dutch, Swiss — that focused on rice or corn or potatoes instead of wheat and bread; I wandered down health food aisles looking for alternatives to sugar, such as barley malt, fructose, cane juice and found also interesting grains like millet and quinoa, and vegetarian alternatives such as Quorn, tofu, tempeh.
     I began to look forward to cooking and started entering into the act of cooking with more intention and awareness.  At some point during the day I would peruse recipes to get ideas.  Then at 4 pm I would put on music, enter my kitchen and clean it – before I started cooking —  I would announce to myself (or others if they were around) that I had to prepare my temple.  What I found was that preparing myself and my kitchen this way helped me relax and really enjoy the task at hand. I noticed a gentle contemplative or musing (as opposed to frenetic) quality to my thinking; memories  mixed with imagination brewed harmlessly in the background just as the ingredients of my latest version of stone soup simmered.
     I learned things about myself, too. I discovered that I would much rather hand mince garlic than use a garlic press – and that I would rather individually chop my vegetables than use a food processor.  I liked the feel of the food in my hands.  I began to pay attention to the different spices called for in recipes and learned the joy of releasing the fragrance of fresh spices in a mortar and pestle (my favorite kitchen implement to this day). I noticed the colors in food and would create with attention to color as well as taste and smell.  In short, I began to feel like a kitchen goddess.
     So, without further ado . . . let’s begin.
——————–
     Today we are having Swiss Potato Soup.
     Just saying those words, brings a whole era to my mind and I think fondly of the many times I have pulled this recipe out.  I have included it here below in its original form, which I wrote 28 years ago, because the mottled, torn, well loved, imperfect, handwritten index card tells something all by itself.
     And as I sit here now, ready to explain more and recreate it in a more legible form, I remember the woman who gave me the recipe. . .
     She was my Greek and Latin tutor and at the time, I thought she was the coolest person I knew.  (I was 22 at the time;  she was about my age now)  She was super hip with short red hair, a dynamite figure and a flair for style. She was warm and engaging, and absolutely dynamic.  I wanted to be just like her when I grew up.  She taught me Greek and Latin in the evening at her house down the street from UCLA.  When I started taking her classes, she had just moved to a gorgeous little house on Westwood Blvd in Los Angeles. She gave me a little tour of her house and I remember being totally impressed that her four poster bed sat on hardwood floors in the dead middle of a sparsely decorated room that had a high ceiling.  Behind and to the side of the bed were giant tropical plants of all shapes.  The effect was like sleeping in the jungle.   I remember too that she told me how her first husband had died suddenly from melanoma.  The room was quiet and still when she shared that.  And in that singular moment, she taught me about reverance.
     She taught me about cooking too.  She sort of instinctively knew that I was struggling, living in my first little tiny house with my fiancé, on a budget and having to come up with dinners.  She announced to me that along with Latin and Greek lessons, she was going to share a recipe with me each week.  She said I should start with the basics, something simple and brought me into her kitchen and had me write down (on the index card you see below) her recipe for Swiss Potato Soup.
     So you see, whenever I decide to cook Swiss Potato Soup, as I do about 4 or 5 times a year it comes with the loveliest of baggage.  I can’t help but smile.  The memories of being a college student, of just starting life out, of the warmth and caring of others, they all come rushing back and I can’t help but think the soup is filled up with that too.
Swiss Potato Soup  (aka Potato Leek Soup):
Original recipe                                                            Substitutions
6 slices bacon         
Tempeh or chicken sausages (3)
3 (cooked) potatoes
2 large leeks (chopped)
1 turnip
I omit this, if I don’thave one
6 cups chicken broth         (free range organic—I like to think of happy, healthy  chickens)
Vegetable broth
2 cups minced onions
1 cup sour cream
1 cup nonfat greek yoghurt
Pepper, salt
Parsley
Often omit because I don’t have it
  • Fry Bacon or chicken sausage and set aside; retain grease.  (For tempeh, see recipe below)
  • Add leeks and onions and sauté in hot grease or olive oil (I add a little salt to the olive oil, if I don’t use hot grease)
  • Add to a dutch oven the leeks, onions, cooked potatoes (cut into pieces), turnips and broth.
  • Bring to a boil then simmer for 15 minutes
  • Puree mixture in a blender. (Careful!  I had this explode in my face once . . . but that’s another story . . .)
  • Return pureed mixture to Dutch Oven; heat back to boiling briefly
  • Stir in sour cream or yoghurt and bits of sausage, bacon or tempeh.
  • Salt and Pepper to taste – it will take quite a bit of salt
  • Use parsley, if you like, for garnish
Serve with bread.  I like to make a special loaf of Bob’s Red Mill Hearty Whole Grain (Gluten Free) Bread.  It is sooo yummy and goes well with the soup!
 ——
Tempeh (that tastes like bacon):
One package tempeh (I buy organic garden veggie tempeh from Lightlife)
Garlic
Wheat free Tamari (or soy sauce)
Olive oil – about 2 Tbls
  • Slice the tempeh into about 1/8th inch pieces
  • Fry in about 2 Tbls oil with 1 -2 cloves of minced garlic
  • Turn each piece over to brown each side
  • When brown sprinkle the tamari over the tempeh
  • Crumble the tempeh pieces up and add it to the top of the soup

Note this is a very handy recipe on its own–try making a BLT with it.  It’s amazing; it tastes just like bacon!  I learned with trick from a macrobiotic cook who lived with us for a while.  It’s one of those recipes we come back to again and again.

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