Entries tagged "recipes"

Shifting your dietary framework is psychologically stressful. Food has such powerful cultural and personal contextual association. We eat when we're around family, and what we eat with family helps us define our culture. We eat when we're celebrating, when we mourn, and when we come together after a long absence. The foods we eat create a sense of home and a sense of identity. They make us feel safe.

So naturally, adopting Paleo (or vegetarianism, veganism, kashrut, or any other diertary framework) means more than shopping for different foods in the grocery store. It means confronting fears about whether we can have stuffing and mashed potatoes at Thanksgiving, whether we can eat some of our own wedding cake, whether we can break bread on the sabbath, and even whether we feel like we belong when we share meals with family and friends.

Admittedly, I had less of a struggle with this. I had previously been vegetarian for years. I had limited my meat consumption to Certified Humane meats that I have good-faith reason to believe lived a happy life and faced a dignified death. My family and friends are used to my diet shifting, and they've been amazingly accommodating. My Grandmère saw making matzoh ball soup with humanely raised chicken as a way to show her love, and at pot luck suppers in my circles of friends people include a little sign next to their dishes to make sure people know it's "gluten-free, soy-based, non-dairy, contains nuts." I'm not the norm.

My girlfriend is Cuban. That means rice and black bean soup - neither of which are Paleo. In her mother's house, that also meant Campbell's Chicken with Stars or ramen noodle soup any time she felt ill - she still craves those comfort foods even though she's moved out. Since we've both gone Paleo (and her brother too), her mom has been amazing at making sure there's always "dinosaur diet" compatible food around. But still the transition was more psychologically stressful for her than for me.

So usually when considering a dietary framework, the first thing people see are the things you can't have - the things you're giving up. "I have to give up bread? But I have a bagel every morning!" "I can't drink my coffee black - I need cream and sugar!" "But we go out for sushi every Sunday night - now you're saying I can't have rice?" Within that mindset, we approach new diets in ways that emphasize our dissatisfaction. When I was vegetarian, I looked for meat substitutes, and certainly there's a whole sector of the food industry that's spawned veggie burgers, veggie dogs, veggie sausage, veggie bacon and more. I've generally found the more we try to live with these substitutes, trying to cram our new dietary framework into our old recipe book, the more dissatisfied we are with the change. Veggie bacon just can't compete.

Cooking is one of my arts - not to say I'm any good, but it's certainly something I explore with passion. I love the kitchen, and I love how food has this incredible potential to be a medium of love. Every time I craft a dish and arrange the food delicately on the plate in a crudely amateurish attempt at skillful presentation, it's my way of saying to my family I love them. And seeing them plow through a meal I've made because it's so delicious to them floods me with a sense of fulfillment and purpose.

The way to see yourself to happiness in a new dietary framework is to learn how to cook all over again - not the mechanics of it, but the approach to creating flavor combinations. A traditional western kitchen has in its flavor arsenal sweet, creamy, savory, and salty as its mainstays. Mix any two of them together and you've got a crowd pleaser - a pork loin in an apple honey glaze, tequila lime shrimp in sour cream, candied bacon. In Paleo, you can't rely on sweet or creamy the same way. My first week cooking strictly Paleo involved a lot of savory and a lot of salty. It got boring really fast.

So I had to start over. I had to reapproach flavors, relook at different cultural traditions for inspiration, and come up with a new set of flavor families I could rely upon - ones that aren't used as regularly in more mainstream kitchens. So this series is my way of sharing some flavors and ingredients I've discovered (and rediscovered) that keep my cooking interesting and my family sending clean plates to the dishwasher. You can track this series by the tag paleokitchen.

Vinegar and the Joy of Acidity

Most vinegar comes from over-fermenting a sugary liquid. The sugar is fermented to ethanol, then the ethanol is fermented into acetic acid. Paleo is agnostic on vinegar - obviously the sweeter the vinegar the more problematic is becomes nutritionally. Balsamic vinegar is made from fortified wine, and the less they let the sugar acidify, the sweeter the vinegar but the less Paleo it is. But vinegar doesn't have to be sweet to be delicious. Vinegar's acidity helps us explore the tart spectrum of our flavor palate. It can be used in marinades to tenderize meats, in salads as part of a dressing, or on vegetables as part of the core flavor mixture.

Asparagus and Mushroom Tapas

Tapas provide a safe haven for both Paleo cooks and diners. Most dishes are prepared in olive oil, rich in monounsaturated fats. Garlic is used liberally, and most plates can be composed entirely from meats, vegetables, and spices. While portions may be small, the flavors are always rich and varied. In this vegetarian tapas dish, the dill weed brings out the flavor of the asparagus while the mushrooms soak up the olive oil and vinegar, complementing the otherwise mild vegetable with an accent of tart acidity.

The recipe:

• 1 bunch of asparagus, trimmed and quartered
• 1 pint of cremini mushrooms, quartered
• 1 tsp of fresh dill weed, chopped
• 2 cloves of garlic, sliced thinly
• 1/8 cup of olive oil
• 1/8 cup of white wine or champagne vinegar
• sea salt and pepper to taste

Heat the olive oil in a skillet on medium-high heat. Add mushroom quarters and sauté until they begin to brown, about 2 minutes. Add asparagus and garlic, and continue to sauté until cooked tender, about 2 minutes. Toss dill weed into the mix, then drizzle vinegar onto vegetables while turning them to coat evenly. Simmer for about a minute. Once most of the excess liquid has been absorbed or evaporated, pull the skillet off the heat and serve immediately.

Relearning to cook Paleo gives us the tremendous opportunity to engage our other senses in food preparation. Relying on aromatic smells and vibrant colors before we even taste our food heightens our sense of anticipation, and our food will automatically taste better. The best way to do this is to selectively include fresh herbs and spices into recipes.

The key word here is fresh. Your spice rack does not qualify. Dehydrated basil, oregano, dill, cilantro, and thyme are no match for the fresh, living herbs, and pre-ground pepper, cumin, or mustard seed lacks the punch of freshly cracked varieties. I used to only include fresh herbs and spices on special occasions when I made grocery store trips to shop specifically for a meal and a recipe. Now I barely touch my spice rack.

If you're relying on your grocery store's produce section for your fresh herbs, you're doing it wrong - not that those herbs aren't fresh, but they're obscenely overpriced and particularly so for the little plastic clamshell encased varieties. Far more cost-effective is to get your herbs from your local garden nursery. Keeping an herb garden gives you a plentiful supply of the freshest herbs possible, and it also fills your home with their fragrance. If you must buy your herbs from the grocery store, hunt among the leafy produce for bunch herbs - it's a far better value than the clamshell containers. Once you get home get a full-sheet dry paper towel, wrap your herbs, and seal them in a ziploc bag for freshness. I recommend keeping a supply of basil, oregano, thyme, dill weed, cilantro, parsley, and mint around at all times.

For spices, a set of grinders or a mortar & pestle is key. Grinding whole seed spices ensures you get the sharpest flavors and most aromatic smells. Try buying whole cumin seed, pan roast it with a little olive oil for several minutes, and then crush it with your mortar. Compare to pre-ground cumin from the spice aisle. You'll be amazed at how much more potent and pleasant the fresh varieties are.

Once you have your herbs and spices, figuring out how to use them comes next. My best recommendation is to experiment. Herbs and spices have such synergetic influences on food it's difficult to imagine how the final result will turn out until you've tasted them. Try making adding some fresh spearmint leaves to your salads, particularly if there are tomatoes and/or cucumbers involved. My morning eggs usually get spiced with dill weed or with cilantro & ground cumin. Fresh basil and oregano together automatically make for an Italian accent to a dish. Try roasting your pork with some fresh apple slices and thyme sprigs.

Beyond the flavor and aromatic sensations, fresh herbs have nutrients and phytochemicals that are antioxidant and anti-inflammatory. Recent research has even shown herbs to be one of the best natural sources of anti-angiogenic chemicals which that research suggests can prevent cancer growth.

Lime Cilantro Flank Steak with Herb Chimichurri

Chimichurri is a sauce made from finely chopped fresh herbs and vinegar, originally from the steppes of Patagonia. When I make this recipe I tend to make extra sauce, just because it's so good - you can spoon it on eggs, other meats, or even vegetables long after you've eaten the flank steak. We particularly love to bring along a couple of these flank steaks to outdoor grilling parties with some chimichurri made in advance. Cooking the steak over charcoal and then serving it with the vibrantly glowing green herb sauce comes as a welcome shock to people expecting ordinary hot dogs and frozen burger patties. And there's nothing quite like the smell of the chimichurri right after you finish puréeing it.

For the steak

• 2lb of flank steak
• 4 cloves of garlic
• 3 limes
• 1/4 cup olive oil
• 1 tbsp chopped cilantro
• sea salt and pepper to taste

For the chimichurri

• 2 tbsp chopped cilantro
• 2 tbsp chopped parsley
• 1 tbsp chopped basil
• 1 tbsp chopped oregano
• 1/2 small vidalia onion, chopped
• 2 cloves of garlic
• 1/2 tsp freshly ground cumin
• 1/8 cup olive oil
• 1/8 cup red wine vinegar
• sea salt and pepper to taste
• Optional: a few splashes of your favorite hot sauce

Pound the flank steak with a meat tenderizer (or the back of a skillet) to soften it a bit. Put it in a gallon ziploc bag with crushed garlic, squeezed limes, olive oil, salt and pepper and seal tightly. Shake and massage the bag to mix the ingredients and spread them around the flank steak. Marinate for as long as you can, up to 24 hours, turning and massaging occasionally.

Heat the broiler to full heat with the broiling pan inside for 5 minutes. Pull the pan while hot and put the steak flat onto the broiling pan. Broil about 6 minutes each side, turning once. Slice the flank steak perpendicular to the grains of the meat.

Combine the ingredients for the chimichurri into a food processor and purée to a bright green sauce. Pour a moderate amount over each strip of the flank steak and enjoy.