Skip to content

The purpose of a challenge

Challenges make a thing use its greatest capacity to complete a task or, even, to fulfill its purpose. Lacking a challenge, the thing might change its function or go away entirely, leading me to suspect that challenge is crucial to purpose.

Humans’ inclination to displace life’s challenges off of the body and onto a tool has shaped us from the beginning- most especially when it came to the challenge of eating.

Primatologist Richard Wrangham explains that the transition to cooking our food fundamentally shaped our bodies into what we are working with today, e.g. smaller mouths, smaller guts, punier teeth than apes. We have come to rely heavily on food processing (cooking, fermentation etc) for digestion.

So for better or for worse the human form was shaped in large part by processing our food, making digestion easier and leaving extra energy for thousands of years of other inventions, which are continuing to shape us in ways we don’t yet know. Which brings us to…the appendix!

The irony of the appendix is that it turns out to be much more functional to us than we thought, but may well be on its way out after all.

Scientists are continuing to find evidence that reveals the appendix as a useful organ, and not, as Charles Darwin assumed, just a remnant from past preference of plants. Studies from the last few years has show the appendix to be an evolved organ that houses good bacteria waiting to repopulate the gut after the system is flushed due to the presence of harmful microbes.

This use has been hidden from us since increased use of sterilization, clean drinking water and non-threatening foodstuffs has meant that survival in an industrialized world may be possible without an appendix. In fact the presence of the appendix seems to do more harm than good in clean conditions as they are finding a relationship between the inflammation of the appendix, which leads to its removal, and the fact that it is under-used.

As explained by researcher William Parker, Ph.D. (more from him here)

“Several decades ago, scientists suggested that people in industrialized societies might have such a high rate of appendicitis because of the so-called “hygiene hypothesis,”…This hypothesis posits that people in “hygienic” societies have higher rates of allergy and perhaps autoimmune disease because they — and hence their immune systems — have not been as challenged during everyday life by the host of parasites or other disease-causing organisms commonly found in the environment. So when these immune systems are challenged, they can over-react….

This over-reactive immune system may lead to the inflammation associated with appendicitis and could lead to the obstruction of the intestines that causes acute appendicitis…Thus, our modern health care and sanitation practices may account not only for the lack of a need for an appendix in our society, but also for much of the problems caused by the appendix in our society.”

So, what should we do with our vermiform organ? Use it or lose it?  “The function of the appendix could be rendered obsolete by cultural changes…” says Parker. “[Such changes have] left our immune systems with too little work and too much time their hands – a recipe for trouble.”

Cooking our food fundamentally changed the human body, and increased sanitation of food and drink seems to be on the way to do the same. But to just accept the obsolescence of this functional organ as a part of our ongoing evolution seems flawed. We can’t guarantee current conditions (not to mention that most of the world doesn’t experience such conditions) and we still are just discovering the power of the microbes in our gut as fighters of all sorts of disease; it seems hasty to just discount the thing entirely, though we often do since the appendectomy is the most commonly performed emergency operation in the world.

So, we should put it to use right?  Parker  posits that we should start challenging our appendix and the immune system generally with the tasks they are supposed to tackle. A completely great idea! However, I think he is looking to the problem for the solution…”If modern medicine could figure out a way to do that,” Parker says “we would see far fewer cases of allergies, autoimmune disease, and appendicitis.”

I think this dilemma provides a lovely analogy to the situation currently faced by the whole human body. We have these perfectly useful systems, well-adapted to deal with challenges of daily life for the last 499,950 years, give or take. Modern society has taken it upon itself to relieve us of these challenges, only to find out that they are entirely necessary!

In the case of the gut, we might try trusting our microbes to deal with the challenges they are capable of facing. Instead, we should rely on modern medicine to bottle up and feed us those very challenges it helped us/told us to avoid?

I say, start with what we have and use it as its meant to be used. Drink raw milk, dig in the dirt, eat fermented food, even get sick! Resist the obsolescence of the human body and challenge it to its fullest extent.

In that spirit, after the challenge of a long trek on foot (and embarking on the challenge of marriage) and a long break from the blog, I look forward to recounting the adventures and the lessons, along with continued thoughts from home kitchen. No longer the itinerant one below (for now anyway).

Taking the world by foot…

For the last five days I have been traveling up the California coast with my partner, soon to be hubby, mostly by foot. We have met some wonderfully friendly people who helped us out when they didn’t need to. The air has been fresh and we are getting stronger everyday. The trip has made me think a lot about the purpose of home and work and the place in our lives for adventure and making the time to walk through the area we live. Today we are in Fort Bragg, and though in a car it feels like a small town, walking through it we know it as huge!

I haven’t the technology to share the photos yet, especially of our road meals. The night of day two we had a grand meal at a friends farm with fresh caught crab, home made sourdough bread, abundant greens with eggs from roaming chickens. For breakfast we had oats with fresh goats milk. This meal was probably the best we will have on the trip and reminded me how much better food from a home kitchen is. We haven’t even been able to soak oats, although we are still carrying our soaked/dried nuts, so we get some whole foods with some careful preparation. Even our food made on our feather-light alcohol stove is better than what we find in cafes around. Lots of sardines to and almonds dipped in honey!

Time to write and update is limited, and will be more fun with pictures, so hold tight until the last week of July.

Until then happy home-cooking, simple living, and enjoying the power of your feet to get you to beautiful places.

A Feast for One

I have spent only a limited time of my life living alone. I moved from the family house to communal housing then to life as part of a couple. Occasional travel or other changes have required me to be by myself for extended periods. The last three weeks was one such occasion and I realized what a challenge it is to eat well alone.

Getting groceries from the market and cooking a nice meal singlehandedly wasn’t really the issue, these are things I often take on. The challenge was really coming up with a reason to make a delicious meal when I was just going to eat it by myself. For me the dinner table is a great time to share in enjoyment of good food and to let other interesting topics entertain us while we eat.

The part of cooking for myself that I don’t love is that you make the effort (mess) of cooking and then have to clean up after yourself as well. This is a strong motivator to make something that you can eat for a couple of meals. I don’t mind the work of meals but there is a point where if you cooked and cleaned every night, the dinner out of a frozen box would get more and more appealing and that just doesn’t seem worth it to me.

For the first few days on my own, the evening meal became more of a chore of just filling me up with whatever I could piece together. Then, after days of so so dinners, I decided to just go all out and make a dinner I would be proud to share, and just enjoy it alone.

The roast has a lot going for it: It is easy to do well, comes from affordable cuts of meat (or a whole small bird), is pretty much hands-off, lasts for leftovers, and, best of all, makes gravy!

My first solo-roast was actually a beautiful little chicken from Soul Food Farm. I made a gravy from the drippings and proceeded to eat that with the best chicken bits with my hands, standing at the counter. It must have been the messy fingers that kept me from taking a picture to share. The meat from the breasts went into curry and chicken soup. The carcass made the best, richest broth I’ve ever had. It was a $10 four pound bird, but it made itself very useful.

Not all my meals from my time alone have been such undertakings. One of my favorite things has been how long leftover rice lasts. One of my jobs currently is selling rice at the farmer’s markets and I often get customers who don’t want to buy a 2lbs bag because they are on their own. I often make 2 cups (about half that bag) and eat it as instant meals throughout the week. A filling and quick standby is something I learned from a friend (and future sister in-law): A layer of cooked brown rice in a cast-iron skillet over medium-low heat. Crack an egg per person (just one in this case, and I used my tiny six inch skillet for a single serving) over the rice and cover with a lid. Cook until just before the egg is set to the firmness you like and grate some nice cheese on top. I use a raw Monterey Jack. The rice gets nice and crispy on the bottom and the whole mess is very satisfyingly simple.

I have a new favorite dish of baked beets marinaded in red wine vinegar and olive oil. It isn’t the most popular dish for others, so it made sense to make it more while alone. Beets and their greens are exceptionally nutritious, full of valuable vits and mins and very good to eat together. I chose to put the greens in the fritatta rather than mixing with the beets themselves, but the sweet and bitter of roots and tops do set eachother off well if you choose to combine.

(this fritatta was actually terrible, as I didn’t rinse the greens enough and ended up with crunchy eggs…yuck.)

My other strategy for eating alone was to keep flowers on the table. It helped in a funny way.

My solo eating adventures can now come to an end, as well as my lack of attention to Mind to Mouth. I have two weeks before I leave for the Great Walk North and even through that I plan to discuss eating and living well…just on the road and on foot. So apologies for the canvernous gap in posts and thanks for the fact that it mattered to many!

Clarified Stock

I have various stashes of jarred food-stuffs (a term my grandad uses and I adore it, reminds me of a Oregon Trail trading post or something) that every once in a while I have to take some time to replenish. These are things I use throughout the week and have come to need in my cooking. The most important of these is my frozen jars of stock. So far I have only made chicken stock as I find that to be the most versatile (and you’ve seen my freezer, which necessitates some restrictions), but making a fish or beef broth is an eventual plan.

I use the stock mainly for a soup base or to cook rice. Homemade stock is one of those things where the time you put to make it yourself saves a lot of money and the quality is unsurpassed by any store-bought option (even those wastefully-packaged boxes). I used to use stock for extra flavor and now I understand that it is adding much more to my food. Broth brings out minerals in the meat, bones, and veggies in a form that is very easy for our bodies to absorb. The gelatin that forms from the simmer is essential to digestion and overall health. It may be a cheesy metaphor now but stocks heal. There are much more specifics about this to be found here: Broth is Beautiful

So, I bring this up to clarify a description in a previous post on Turkey Soup. This is a pre-Nourishing Traditions post (that is pre me actually owning the book, as are most from before the New Year) and described the solidified state of the cooled soup as being indicative of fat. I should have realized that the gelatinous quality was, well, gelatin. As I was making my batch of stock last week and skimming the hardend fat off the top of the cooled and jiggly broth, I realized that fat doesn’t gel up, it rises to the top. The longer you simmer the stock the more jello-y it will become when cooled and that is only making the stock even better for you. It is rich, which is what I noticed about the turkey broth. While fats are good and important, that isn’t what makes an excellent or a rich broth, so give your stock time for a long simmer and drink up!

Chicken Soup with Rice (rather than white wheat noodles), makes for a texture that is just as comforting and much more nourishing. P.S. This made one chicken breast make four meals.

Chicken Soup with Rice (rather than white wheat noodles), makes for a texture that is just as comforting and much more nourishing. P.S. This made one chicken breast make four meals.

More on bread and starter

I’ve now made my third multi-grain sourdough bread, from here. For those adventurous souls who plan to embark on this three-day bread I have some thoughts. My amateur advice may not be worth much, but something I always find frustrating about recipes is that they don’t tell you about the mistakes. ( Though Breadtopia has a good deal of comment-discussion about things that go wrong for others, so that is worth a perusal.) The thing about this bread is that there are a lot of opportunities for things to go wrong, when you have multiple days each step is a little nerve-racking. But the encouraging thing is that its a pretty resilient bread and all my mistakes have resulted in something different, rather than disastrous.

Notes on the first step: getting the starter working. Depending on its level of activity, or the last time you fed it, it can take a couple days to get going. Start with just a scant 1/4 of a cup, because you don’t need much for the bread. You will add an 1/8 cup of water and an 1/8 cup of (white) flour. You will then have a total of a 1/2 cup and your next feeding will continue this ratio of equal parts water to flour, doubling the amount of starter. So you can see how much you can make very quickly. If your starter is particularly dormant then you will need to feed it for longer, thus making more starter. You can dump some out and keep the level down…but! If you don’t want to do this you can plan a very delicious waffle breakfast after starting your bread. See this post for recipes. Using the starter means the phytic acid in the wheat is neutralized so its not blocking the nutrients in the other good stuff on the waffle. I used all white just to go full on pastry texture, but you could mix in whole wheat or other the night before.

whole milk Nancys yogurt, Almond Butter, Grade B Maple Syrup, raw butter, and late spring Strawberries

Whole Milk Nancy's yogurt (which is pretty much like ice cream), Almond Butter, Grade B Maple Syrup, Raw Butter, and Late Spring Strawberries

Okay, back to the bread. So the first step is basically making a bowl of whole wheat starter and letting it sit, covered (plastic bag works well) for 12 hours. Breadtopia suggests this be the “evening of day one” but my schedule is weird and time to make bread varies so sometimes I use different 12hr periods, depending.

12 hrs from mixing together the starter and WW flour, you add the rest of the flours (spelt, rye, white, more WW) more water and salt. As much attention as the no-knead bread has gotten, I think that the kneading step is not just fun for the sake of bread making, but useful for getting a good sense of how the dough is doing. I once made the no-knead and couldn’t tell that is hadn’t risen (too long a proof and not very strong starter) until it was out of the oven, because you aren’t touching it and seeing how it feels. So this step of kneading for ten minutes is useful, and good exercise. I look at the clock to make sure I do a full ten (otherwise I’m too lazy).

The kneaded dough then goes in a bowl, covered with the same plastic bag, in the refrigerator to 24 hrs. This stage is where you can be more flexible about the timing. The first time I made the the end of the 24hrs ended up being at 8am, which was before work, but! it needs to sit and get warm and comfy for another 5hrs before going in the oven. I ended up coming home during lunch and baking it. This is a totally avoidable situation. If you find that the timing doesn’t line up for taking it out of the fridge and then baking 5hrs later, you can punch down the dough in the fridge before its fully rise (that is before the first 24hrs) and let it go another 24 or so. Ex: First step at 8pm Monday, second (mixing dough, kneading) at 8 am Tuesday, 24hrs later is 8am Wednesday but I don’t have time to deal with it then- so at 5pm on Tuesday I punch it down. Now, I am set to take it out at 5pm Wednesday and bake at 10pm (which works for me).

This is a lot for bread, I realize. And I think in the last post on this I admitted that it is probably too much and gives a good argument for specialization. But its interesting and delicious, very nourishing and getting easier. Plus, it turns out well even when not perfect.

Last loaf: I took it out of the fridge at 5pm and let it sit covered with plastic in the bowl until 10 (at 9:30 I pre-heated the oven, with the dutch oven inside). But, that isn’t whats supposed to happen. For some reason I completely forgot the step of taking it out of the bowl, forming a “boule” and putting it in on a floured towel, and then back in the bowl (covered, not with plastic, but more floured towel). I realized this as the action to put it in the smoking hot dutch oven felt different then before. But it was too late at that point and I just waited a half hour to see what happened.

Maybe not bakery-goods, but it was no fail.

I even think the crumb (the quality of holes in the interior, usually indicating moist, chewyness) turned out better than the last. The texture of the crust is different, but I woulnd’t even call it weird. That’s the thing with baking, often the variation is just that- not a mistake but a new way, a new texture, a new flavor. Punching down the dough and letting proof longer makes a more sour dough and really works the fermentation, that was a surprise and a delight (to avoid this acutally use more starter). Again, I don’t really know how useful it is for us all to be making our own bread, but I like to eat something and to know just how it got to be the way it is.

Raising the food

One big rolling hill feeds woolly-but shedding- goats, cows, and pigs all at once. Chickens run about picking at dung and laying eggs in a house under the shadow of a giant oak. The breeds of all the animals are old (less domesticated) enough so that the cows (females) still have horns and the wild boar and cattle still wear a full coat, which protects them from weather hot and cold. A stream seeps through the little valley of the hills, through the drying late spring grass, making the ground muddy enough for wallowing boar. It is an amazingly efficient system: sun/water to grass to animal to meat, milk, and eggs.

This small farm teems with life, and though death is a part of why they are all here, the focus is on the needs of the moment. Ted doesn’t like to discuss too much about slaughter for a couple of reasons: He raises his animals to give them a good life, to connect with them, and to give people a source of healthy and sustainable food. The death is always hard- there is no easy way around it, and it is also the smallest part. As we walk up the steep slope, Ted mumbles something about people needing to eat less meat. There, in the animals’ space this is a clear conclusion. If we are going to eat animals, they should live like this- If they are going to be able to live like this, there will have to be a lot less of them (but, a lot more farmers!). Ted could have more animals but too large a scale compromises his relationship with them.

It is clear that Ted wrestles every day with the difficulty of his task of raising friends for others’ food. He seems to reconcile this with the fact (Ted and I share the view that this fact is not really arguable) that humans are omnivores and if he doesn’t raise animals for food in this way, more animals will be raised in ways deprive them of a good life, one in which they can live out their days using their full instinct and potential.

I didn’t have a chance to really get into a full conversation with Ted about these ideas on this visit, so I don’t want to go further and risk putting words in his mouth. But I know he has a lot more to say and I hope to visit again and share more. Ted is the farmer from whom I buy meat the most often (what little I buy) and I often see him weekly. He is a very thoughtful man and I appreciate how much love he gives to my meals.

It is an emotional thing, seeing the animals you will eat. So forgive me if this post is a little heavier. But I think its important to acknowledge that eating meat isn’t a simple act, nor should it ever really be easy. It isn’t the act of eating per se but the ease we have created that has really made meat consumption a problem. An easy thing in terms of production and an easy thing in terms of what little we experience, and how far we are from the creature living out a life. (That life demands some death is a fact that makes this idea of test-tube meat all the more disturbing and so reductionist, as if we could be nourished on something that didn’t eat, that didn’t live at all)

As with many dilemmas about food, I again come to the conclusion that it is really important to spend more money on food, especially on those products from animals. When weighing price options, consider what corners were cut to provide whatever you might be saving.  It isn’t an easy choice, but I think 1) it is important to be honest that for most of us, spending on food is about choices, and 2) that it is only fair for us to make some sacrifices in return. Ted’s meat is just about the most expensive I could get. Ground beef is $7/lb. So I can’t buy very much, and I think Ted agrees that’s probably for the best.

In Print

This year was big for me in that I had a piece of writing published in print for the first time. Because so much of what I write about here on this blog concerns letting go of a lot of the consumer culture around food, I haven’t been super comfortable with putting up ads, which might support the time I spend writing. Thus, it was very exciting to receive a check for a piece, especially one that really addresses the issues I go on about here. In fact it was probably the most satisfying check I have ever received.

I have begun working on other print projects since this piece was published, but it is now online and available to share. So share I will. The article is based on an interview with my granddad who grew up in the East Bay (where I currently live) in the Great Depression. We talked about eating, buying food, labor issues, family, and all those issues that come up when you talk about what we eat. Read on in the current issue of Edible East Bay

Fourteen Dishes; reliable experimentation

Last week I found myself in a strange rut of trying new things. That is I couldn’t be satisfied with an easy dinner standby and over and over kept trying new dishes that ended up not working out very well and taking a ton of time. I tried a slow roasted salmon which I don’t know how I messed up, but the “slow” seemed geologic. This fish was on the same night I attempted brown rice risotto…which took almost an hour of stirring, eventually ending up in the oven to finish. Another night involved a potato and turnip gratin that again took over an hour, only to end up with a thin sauce that had no flavor. We often joke that with lots of butter and salt how can you go wrong…but it happens.

Experimentation is how you learn to cook, but it can also be a frustrating exercise and I wonder if we really need as much variety as the inexhaustible amount of cookbooks would have us believe. Dr. Daphne Miller, who wrote the newest discussion of the benefits of traditional diets (a la Dr. Price but without the examinations), explained in an interview (which I wrote about here) that the best home cooks have about fourteen meals that they really know well. This gives you a different dinner every night for two weeks. That seems like plenty, especially knowing that some of our busy night dinners aren’t more than quesadillas and a salad with lot of late night buttery toast. (In fact, I wonder if I could count this on my fourteen?).

I think we underestimate the versatility of the old-standby. And these stand-bys are of course dependent on the individual cook and what meals interest them enough to make enough times to really make it second nature. According to Dr. Miller many cooks have these fourteen meals (give or take) and adapt them as needed to what they have on hand and what is in season. That is, if one of your favorite things to make requires fresh tomatoes, think about how to use vegetables that are available in other parts of the year. Also, economically, it is good to first think about what you need to use in the fridge before going to the store for the one ingredient you must have to make your intended dish.

So, in some ways keeping with stand-by dishes and making them work on a whim or in every season requires some experimenting. But I think there is a softer learning curve when you already have a sense of what you are doing. Dr. Miller uses this idea of fourteen dishes to encourage new cooks in their attempt to take control of their diet by making their own meals from scratch. With so many ideas out there overwhelming our sense of what we should be able to accomplish in the kitchen, this number seems doable. I think it is also important encouragement not to worry about making the same dish multiple times close together. I used to put off preparing a meal too many times, which is necessary to really get the hang of it, for fear of boring us at the table. But I am over that now, on the grounds of making it better and for saving time not having to learn something new when really I just want to eat!

My number one favorite standby is roasted veggies. Endless combinations, always really delectable.

Current early Spring favorite:

I also am sold on a very special California Brown Rice, Massa Organics (I actually work for them, but I was eating this rice before getting paid to talk about how great it is, and it is perfect). It has become the staple of many dinners.

This rice and beans is simple but by no means bland. These beans are cooked with a bit of fresh lard from the farmer’s market and loaded with spices. The rice is cooked with a homemade chicken stock and lots of cilantro. That is creme fraiche on top with hot sauce and avo.

So here is my current fourteen that are working well

1. Vegetable soup (often with beans, meat, rice and/or noodles)

2. Stir-fry

3. Spaghetti (with sprouted whole grain noodles, homemade noodles)

4. fritatta

5. tacos

6. miso soup (with veggies and an egg)

7. fish (Pan-fried, either battered or not- if not, make a quick sauce from the pan when finished)

8. Roasted Veggies, sauteed veggies

9. Chili (I learned to put yams in mine, and I keep it vegetarian like I learned it from my mom)

10. Pizza (but now I am been conflicted on how to make the dough, best with sprouted flour?)

11. Grown-up salad, with nuts and cheeses and various sauteed things like shallots and mushrooms, all depending on what we have and what sounds good. Always homemade dressing

12. Quick dinner with egg, either on bread, beans, leftover rice, in broth…

13. Sauce on rice; creamy stroganoff, coconut curry

14. Maybe this is the one I leave for a new thing, making time for experimentation and being ready for disappointment OR success!

These are all pretty flexible in terms of what goes in them, making them adaptable, but also consistent enough that I know what I like to have on hand. Someday I hope to be able to make these without too much thought at all, but hopefully always with inspiration and variation.

Fermented Breads

I’ve gotten my starter up and working again. This is the same starter I received in the Spring of last year. (It came from a very sprightly 80 year old, so that’s encouraging). I used it briefly but for most of the year it has sat neglected in the fridge. Now its clear that its fermenting powers have become crucial for more nourishing baking, so I brought it out with more commitment to keep it healthy. I wasn’t sure I could revive it, but it turned out to be very resilient. A few days of feeding every twelve hours and it was bubbling and working hard.

IMG_2970

Baking with sourdough really is the best example of how much time it takes to make the best food. In fact its really a lot to ask; to keep something in your fridge that is essentially another mouth to feed, to keep track of one more thing, and to use it in a bread that takes over a whole day, often three to make. The cost of the flour alone makes me wonder if its worth it just to buy the beautiful $8 levain breads from the farmer’s market or the notable local Acme bakery. So maybe its just for novelty that I keep making this three-day bread.

The last time I went through the process, with the concern that after the second day it wouldn’t rise and it would all be ruined; the ten-minute kneading; the planning (once having to come home from work to bake my bread so it wouldn’t proof for too long), I thought that maybe specialization is a good thing when it come to baking. I pictured the adept bakers with their hundreds of proofing loaves, their active starters that are fed every day, and thought when is it that consumer culture hinders healthy food and when does it help it? I think everyone should make most of their own meals, working with other people, using their minds, hands, and fresh, real food- but does everyone need to make their own bread all the time?  Well clearly no, even in my Utopian real-food world, where people don’t work too long for so many things they don’t really need, -things that make them neither happy nor healthy- and where they put time and care into food, there would still be specialization of some kind. There is a benefit to becoming an expert at something and sharing your products and having a clear purpose. The problem with our current approach is that in giving over most of our food preparation to specialized producers we have lost skills that keep our minds and bodies active and the the quality of our food has suffered.

So, until my real-food utopia I am going to keep developing these disappearing skills, if only for the fun of it.

The recipe for this one come from my stand-by Breadtopia, with the cheery and informative videos. What I really wish he had though, and what I am finding impossible to find, are other types of baked goods and breads (like muffins, scones, banana bread etc) that use sourdough for proofing and fermenting, not just for flavor.  I am going to try this pizza dough recipe with a longer, overnight, rise and see how it goes.

The other option for quick breads is to buy sprouted flour (okay, the real other option is to sprout the grains yourself, dry them, and grind them into your own flour). Nourishing Traditions’ recipes for quick breads call for freshly ground flour (not sprouted); this is because pre-ground flour (sprouted included) is often more rancid than we realize. And apparently bread from freshly ground flour is beyond in flavor. Grinding your own flour isn’t as laborious as it sounds, since its really a process of pushing a button on an electric grain grinder. After grinding the flour NS has you soak it in buttermilk, kefir, or yogurt overnight (or for 12 hours). This addition of acidity does that neutralizing work to the nutrient blocking acids in grains (read more about that here. While the recipes say you can also use whey or lemon juice, its pretty clear that the outcome is not as tasty with this alternative.

So, I have to admit, I haven’t yet tried this technique. This is primarily because of the extra expense of cups of high quality dairy. I came up with an alternative I will try and then share; Bob’s Red Mill makes a buttermilk powder, just dehydrated, so I can make the amount I need store the rest. The whole package  makes six quarts for ten dollars.

I have some muffins and biscuits planned using this strategy, so stay tuned.

Also! Not that there is a lot of eating out going on these days, but we did go for Ethiopian food recently and I was very pleased to realize that the bread, Injera, which makes up the bulk of the meal, is made with fermented teff grain flour. So you can eat out and still get with real, live food- this chance is of course higher when you seek out restaurants serving traditional foods.

Sourdough Breakfast:

No compromise cookies

Life with more nourishing food so far has been really delicious and satisfying, it has even had plenty of variety and plenty of sweets. But it isn’t without some sacrifices, particularly in the realm of special treats. The other night my dreams were all about being at a bakery and eating sticky sugary white flour treats, and it seemed like I should give myself something to fulfill this craving rather than let my subconsciousness obsess over it. I give in sometimes, I do; but it would be really great if I didn’t have to. I would really like to go to the grocery store and find a cookie that fits my sense of a food worth eating; worth it in terms of taste, and the soul-satisfying experience of a yummy treat, and not needing my body to deplete its hard earned resources to help the food go through.

Nourishing Traditions has plenty of treats and snacks that are all delicious. I am getting the hang of a lot of the techniques, but one practice has got me stuck and stopped a lot of my baking. To really meet the nourishing standard, any quick breads are made with flour that has been soaked over night. It’s easy to just write this practice off as too much time to ask for muffins. What actually gets me is the expense of the soaking (cups of buttermilk each time) and I plain forget or don’t give myself the time (as I think the desire to bake a treat is often an in-the-moment kind of thing).

Luckily, at a particular treat-craving moment, I had all the right stuff to make totally nourishing and absolutely delicious cookies.

From the creation of our camping trail mix (see below) we had many cups of soaked-and-dried nuts (What Ms. Fallon calls “crispy nuts”). These nuts have had the enzyme inhibitor (the natural preservative that you don’t want to be eating) soaked out of it, and the crispy put back in through a long time in a warm oven; enough to make them crunchy but not to kill all of those good nutrients the soaking released. The pumpkin seeds were outrageously good as were the almonds. The peanuts just didn’t really get eaten as the flavor wasn’t great on their own. So I ground them up and used them for the base of these flourless peanut cookies.

They are made by blending all the ingredients in a food processor until you get a nice mealy dough that you will form into walnut sized rounds.

This is a cookie I have don’t think I would be able to find pre-made. The approach of nourishing traditions exists in this area between organic foodie eats and vegan/raw fare. The vegans have made cookies with the right kind of sweetener and often some kind of alternative flour that is more easily digested, but they use vegetable-based oils that are not great like soy or canola (why they don’t use coconut at least I don’t know…). Raw food teats often leaves out the flour for something like the ground up nut base, but I can’t ensure that they have actually soaked the nuts, which is sort of the whole point, otherwise you might as well use flour. The organic foodies have the eggs and milk and butter but they use white sugar and flour (organic is fine, but I want to go beyond).

The ingredient list on this cookie’s package would read like so:

Soaked and dried organic peanuts, organic cultured butter, arrowroot powder, dehydrated cane sugar (unrefined), organic fair-trade vanilla, sea salt.

Tell me if you’ve ever bought a cookie like that…

P.S. You have to let them sit to set, then they are as chewy and tasty as any other.