Foodie Tuesday: Chia Pets, Kitty Dishes, and Sunshine in a Bowl

Though the novelty wore off at some point, the silly popular terracotta animal figurines Chia Pets have continued to live on in myriad beastly iterations, including of the human animal, whenever anyone wanted a bit of lighthearted fun wasting edible chia seed sprouts for sculptural entertainment by growing them as hair or fur on the pottery. That, of course, was before the rediscovery of chia seeds as actual food. In recent times, not only has their tiny tastiness as green sprouts been restored to its rightful place among the many yummy sprouts now being revered as micro-mini greens, their magical gelling abilities have been discovered to make a miraculously delicious thickener for tapioca-like (but chia is more nutritious than tapioca) sauces and puddings. Merely soaking the seeds in liquid does the job, the kitchen equivalent of snapping one’s fingers and making genie surprises appear out of thin air, so I can’t think of many ingredients more all-purpose admirable.
Photo: Chia's Charms

Meanwhile, back in my dad’s childhood (even earlier than the inception of the Chia Pet, as difficult as that might be for you to believe), there was another kind of treat that made desserts desirable to him: the Kitty Dish. The ingredients of the meal were irrelevant, as long as the proper bowl contained the food meant to tempt the tot. The enticement lay not so much in the comestibles as in eating his way to the bottom of the dish to uncover the picture of the kitty in the middle of the bowl. It’s a boon to parenthood to find a container so special that it will inspire a recalcitrant child to work his way to the bottom of the serving, and when the little fellow in question was old enough to have little kids of his own, he made certain that we, too, knew of the beauties of his fabled kitty dish. So when I found a charming little dish with a kitty on it (albeit decorating the outside), I knew that I must have one of my own.
Photo: Kitty Dish #3

As it’s a very kawaii little item of Asian porcelain, in addition to being a lucky cat, I thought it a highly suitable vehicle for something delicate and cute in the way of a dessert or snack. Or (you know me), breakfast. In this case, it was just the right size for a scoop full of citrus pudding dotted and thickened with chia seeds, a bright, light, fanciful, froth of a dish. It was fun and yummy in equal parts. Kind of the way I imagine a little boy might have once felt about his eating when spooning up the last bites of dinner to get to the kitty picture at the bottom of the bowl.
Photo: Citrus Chia Joy

Citrus Chia Cream

This was an oddly conglomerate dish that turned out to be less crazy and more just plain crazy-good than I expected. It happened in four phases. The first was to take 1 cup heavy cream and whip it until very thick, then fold it together with 1/2 cup lime curd (I used a good quality ready-made kind—the dish was already fussier to make than its simple taste and appearance would admit). Next, make a saucy custard of 1 cup pureed (fruit juice-) canned mandarin orange segments, a good shot of elderflower cordial or liqueur, and three eggs, blended, cooked to thicken, and cooled. The third step: combine the lime-cream, the mandarin custard, and 1 cup plain whole milk yogurt with a small pinch of salt. Lastly, stir all three creamy components together with quite a lot of chia seeds; they don’t swell hugely, so adding nearly as much as is desired in the finished pudding is fine. Chill the treat thoroughly before serving it.

I can’t guarantee you’ll like it, but I thought it was the cat’s meow.

Foodie Tuesday: Creamy & Dreamy

Given my love for dairy, eggs, sauces and the like, it can come as no surprise to anyone that I’m an incorrigible fanatic about puddings, custards, soufflés and their numerous smooth, fluffy, and plush cousins. They are not by any means created equal, of course, and my desired version changes with the weather, the occasion and a whole lot of other variables, so I’m very happy to sample the dish-of-the-day any time I can. Still, I’m very glad to have the best of the best, whatever the treat: great ice cream beats good ice cream, don’t you know. I was reminded of how much impact the slightest differences can have, even when I’m enjoying something I like very well, when I had a cone of soft-serve ice cream the other day and it turned out to be surprisingly thin and lacking the usual dense and creamy mouth-feel of the best stuff. Didn’t stop me from eating an ice cream cone, mind you, only it wasn’t close to the best I’ve slurped.

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Ice milk isn’t my idea of true soft serve, but it can at least cool me and fill me up with a bit of good vanilla flavor . . .

Certain of those creamy, dreamy treats that tickle my fancy are pretty reliable even in the strictly mass-produced and store-bought kinds, once I find the brand or sort I fall most in love with eating. A nice, thick and lightly tart Greek style whole milk yogurt is hard to beat, particularly when I blend in some good cinnamon and strong local honey or perhaps a tot of dark maple syrup and a sprinkle of cardamom. Pure, smooth happiness. It’s a good facsimile, when sweetened a bit, for another grand favorite, pudding or custard that’s softer, not set up quite like the also-lovable flans and baked custards and burnt-creams.

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If yogurt’s made into a low-fat version by adding thickeners, it has neither the same texture *nor* the same lusciousness. Go fat or go home, that’s my motto!

Frankly, that’s where a good mousse, fool, whipped cream or smoothie might wiggle its way into my heart as well. I’ve heard for some time that coconut milk makes a reasonable facsimile for whipped cream when chilled and whipped, so I decided to give it a go today, though I didn’t exactly follow the protocols I’ve seen online either–another unsurprising bit of my kitchen personality if you’ve read any of my other Tuesday posts! To make my own version of Coconut Cardamom Pudding, I mixed about 1 cup of chilled coconut milk, a half cup or so of cream, a tablespoon of plain gelatin (could easily use agar for setting the custard, if you’re vegetarian) that I bloomed on top of the liquids, plus a teaspoon of vanilla, a pinch of salt, a couple of tablespoons of honey and a teaspoon of ground cardamom, and beat them all until creamy, poured the custard into little ramekins, and popped them into the fridge for testing tomorrow after supper. I can’t speak for the texture until then, but as for the taste, it’s quite mild and subtle but a friendly grouping of flavors that I think will be just as tasty even if it doesn’t quite set up to flan texture by dinnertime. Never know until I try, anyway! Which, as you well know, is a pretty fair summary of my attitude toward most things edible.

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Tomorrow will tell whether the coconut pudding experiment ‘stands firm’ custard style or gets altered one way or another next time, but it’s a spoon-able dainty today . . .

Drizzling just a bit more honey on top is rarely the wrong thing to do with a cloud-like dessert (here, garnished with a pinch of pink peppercorns to bump up the floral spice of the cardamom in the pudding). But I think I’d better stop talking about it now or I might not wait until tomorrow to see if the texture changes. The thought of any kind of yummy, airy, smooth and creamy dessert tends to have that sort of effect on me.

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Update: after refrigeration, the coconut concoction set up as a very light, very fluffy mousse. Just enough heft to sit on the spoon for as long as it took to take a quick photo! The texture remains faintly grainy with the coconut base, but overall mouth-feel is smooth, feather-light and slightly buttery [grins shamelessly], and the flavor is very delicate. So I ate two servings. [Grinning again.]

Foodie Tuesday: Birthday Dessert (and Boy, Wouldn’t This Taste Great with Some Chocolate Ice Cream!)

He’s a wacky fella, my dad. One of his finest features has always been his excellent and distinctive sense of humor, and there was never any question that having a father who’s delightfully silly is one of the finest advantages a kid could have in her upbringing. No surprise that, with Mom being the sort of hospitality genius that everyone loves and Dad providing much of the comic relief in that hospitable package, our household was always a popular place among the friends and classmates of all of their children. Both were also compassionate and reasonable and practical parents, and I don’t have to tell you what a rarity that is in general, so our home was a kind of hangout-central among the school-kid cognoscenti.

Since today is the anniversary of the birth of that Hardest Working Dad in Showbiz, I am drawn to reminisce on the many years of service that my father has given as the resident chief goofus in our family.photoThat in itself is gift enough, but his life of service has always been so much broader and deeper than mere lightheartedness. As a pastor, as Chairman of the Board of Regents for a university, as bishop, and as president of a hospital board, among many other roles he’s filled in his life’s work, Dad has never taken his labors lightly, even when the best tool he had for doing any or all of these jobs may have most often been the humor he brought to the table. He’s just never been one for sitting around and letting the world rush on around him.

photoI wish I could say that I inherited a tenth of his sense of humor, let alone a hundredth of his ambition and work ethic. Instead, I guess I should thank him once again on his birthday for not only being a dandy dad but also helping to fill the requirements of the universe in these services where I may have left some gaping gaps. So thanks, Dad, from the bottom of my full heart, and may you have not only a very happy birthday but all the warmth and laughter that can be wrung out of many more years. Oh, and cake. And, since you clearly are your father’s son when it comes to all of the characteristics noted above and we all know Grandpa would have felt the cake was best completed with some, have your cake with a couple of sizable scoops of chocolate ice cream.

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Okay, this one’s not ice cream, but it’s chocolate dessert and it’s homemade. And it tastes pretty great, if you ask me. (1 ripe avocado, 1 ripe banana, 1 heaping tablespoon of cocoa, 1 teaspoon of vanilla, a pinch of salt, and honey to taste, all blended together until the pudding is smooth.)

Foodie Tuesday: Good Housekeeper Cooking, or One Man’s Baking Disaster is Another’s Ice Cream Starter

Every cook of any skill or talent level knows–or should–that one of the best inspirations for the next dish or meal is found in cleaning and tidying the kitchen. It doesn’t mean I have to completely reorganize and sanitize every square centimeter of the place constantly, though undoubtedly I could stand to do both a little more often. But even the most cursory, quick cleanup of fridge, pantry or cupboards can remind me that I’ve stashed away a number of tasty items that ought to be used before they become lost in the mists of time. Petrified vegetables and mossy fruits, sandy-bleached spices and unrecognizable bogs-in-jars are all interesting science projects in their way, I suppose, but rarely likely to serve the purpose of good taste or nutrition for which they were initially acquired.

So I’m setting out on a mission, albeit at a sauntering pace, to see if I can’t catch up with some of my longtime plots and plans in the culinary realm and get a neater and more easy to clean workspace in the bargain. Today’s inspiration came from a fellow blogger who offered a recipe that sounded like a wonderfully easy mash-up of a traditional German chocolate cake’s glaze (with the broiled coconut topping) and a raisin spice cake. Mostly, it made me want to bake a gooey cake, something I’ve simply not done in forever. In my typical style, it was not that there was the remotest chance of my following the inspirational recipe even to a mild degree of accuracy, but the initial concept that thus urged me on was greatly appreciated all the same. In honor of the inspiration I went through my stores of dry goods like a little tornado and came up with a few ingredients that I thought would suit the occasion pretty well. I give you:

Texas Tornado Cakephoto

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees Fahrenheit. Grease a 9×13 baking pan.

Blend together the following ingredients. I did so by pulsing it all together in the food processor until it was a coarse flour-like consistency, but you could certainly hand shred, chop and mince the ingredients and then blend them.

1 cup of raw cane sugar

1/2 cup dried apricots

1 cup shredded raw carrots

2 Tablespoons of candied orange peel

2 Tablespoons of candied ginger

1/2 teaspoon ground cloves

1 teaspoon of more of ground cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon grated nutmeg

In a saucepan, bring to a boil 1/2 cup of butter and 1 cup of water, adding the prepared coarse meal of previously blended ingredients and cooking briefly to blend. In a separate large bowl, blend together 1-1/2 cups of mesquite pod flour, 1/2 cup of coarse almond meal, and 1 teaspoon of baking soda. When the wet ingredients have come to a boil, pour them into this dry mix and blend quickly. Pour the batter into the greased baking dish and level it as needed, and pop it into the oven for about 15 minutes.

While that’s baking, mix together the sticky topping ingredients. I just squished it all together quickly with my hands.

1/2 cup butter

1-1/2 cups brown sugar

1/2 cup almond meal

1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

1/4 teaspoon crunchy flake salt (I used Maldon sea salt)

When the cake comes out of the oven, crumble the topping mix over it fairly evenly, and pop it under the broiler just until it caramelizes. Cool, cut, eat. A little ice cream or whipped cream would not, of course, be amiss with this, but it can be eaten like a brownie or blondie just fine, too.photo

The problem is this: the stuff is too darned tender to even hold the shape of a small bar or square of cake. Needs better structure. Flavor? Oh, yeah–I mean, after all, look at all of the butter and spices and the mesquite flour and apricot and orange nuances. But it’s as crumbly as heck. What are gooey cake crumbs good for? Yes, that’s right folks: ice cream add-ins. So now I give you Texas Tornado 2.0:

Texas Tornado Ice Creamphoto

Yes, it looks mighty mish-mashy, like it’s right in the middle of the tornado. But by golly, it’s a lot pleasanter than being pelted with flying cars. In fact, it tastes pretty danged delicious. All it took was to crumble the whole pan of erstwhile cake up into chunky crumbs and stir them into unsweetened vanilla whipped cream. Yes, unsweetened–you saw how much sugar went into that cake, y’all. 1 pint of heavy cream, whipped up with a generous 1 teaspoon splash of good vanilla; fold in all of the delicious ‘dirt’ you made of the cake, put it in a sealed container, and freeze it. If you can wait that long. It really makes a pretty tasty pudding without ever freezing it, if your sweet tooth is aching already. So I’ve heard.photoThe surprisingly spiced-mocha scent of the mesquite flour is quite strong when the cake bakes. So much so, that I almost forgot it wasn’t actual brownies or chocolate cake in the oven. Which in turn may mean that I have some chocolate baking to do soon too. Something that holds up structurally, I should think. But I’m not sure I care. There’s always an alternate use for good food-parts. These things happen when I start rummaging around in the kitchen stores, don’t you know.

Foodie Tuesday: I Think in Food

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Some of these things are not Food like the others . . . (sing along with me, now) . . .

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Don't cry, Darling, it's only an onion . . .

I think in food.

The synesthesiac is infinitely more poetic,

dreaming every waking thought into links

of lovely chain bridging the senses

in one graceful catenary arch of a deep synaptic sigh:

lemons taste triangular; music glows first purple,

then exquisite blue: radiant, gradient skies of blue.photo

I could change it all to solid gold, yet I? I Sigh.

Yes, I too, am given to magical flights, and yet

they all lead, every thought, each sense,

each memory and every moment of experience

is all, forever,

food.photoToday’s episode of Foodie Tuesday is brought to you by my new chia pet:

Mocha Chia “Tapioca

And yes, the quotes are intentional and not Air Quotes, because there’s no actual tapioca involved but this dish tastes remarkably like it, which in my book is an excellent thing, despite having more nutrients and fiber than its textural cousin. I started my recipe, of course, by stealing from a number of similar magazine and online recipes and monkeying around with it to the degree that I think I can safely say it’s all mine by now.

All I did was mix 2-1/2 cups of almond milk (store-bought), 1/2 cup of chia seeds, a pinch of salt and a couple of tablespoons of Splenda sweetened (“sugar-free”) vanilla syrup of the kind sold for coffee and soda sweeteners. I stirred it all together and put it in the refrigerator to soak overnight, stirring a couple of times to break up the clumping and keep the chia seeds suspended in the liquid so they could all get their nice little fattening-up chances. Before the final stirring, I heated up another 2 tablespoons of vanilla syrup in the microwave until good and hot and then melted about a tablespoon of instant coffee crystals (decaf–what I have on hand just for flavoring baking, really), plus four sections of a Hershey’s Special Dark chocolate bar (about two big chomps’ worth, if you’re like me!) into it, stirring until it was smooth. Lastly, that mocha soup got stirred into the Tapi-Chia, if I may coin a word, and dished up for serving. As you can see, it got a bit of candied orange peel and a sprinkling of freshly zipped orange zest to finish, and I must say those went down a treat with the mocha-licious chia pudding. Will I do this one again, you ask? Oh, yes I will. Too easy to both prepare and eat not to consider it a keeper.photo