Tag Archive: Gluten Free

1. For Sarah, For All of Us

   April 14, 2013 8:06 pm 64 Comments

   

   Dear Sarah,

   I saw your comment come through last week on my lunch break and I haven’t stopped thinking about you since. When asked, you  shared that you intend stand in your truth this year by holding fast to the understanding that you don’t need to have your whole life after college completely planned out, that you can just take it step by step. Oh Sarah, I wish I could stand sideline giving high-fives and waving my pom-pom’s about to cheer you on through this phase and in this truth. A year ago I stood in some version of your shoes, looking ahead to the future with confidence and eagerness and a whole lot of WHOA, WHAT NOW swirling in my belly. As you begin to close this big chapter of your life, here is what I want you to know… you’re not alone. This month and every month henceforth there will be women graduating college, giving birth to their first children, changing jobs, moving to different countries, suffering great loss, celebrating small victories, and will be, in sum, simultaneously in the process of discovering the person they are meant to become, the work they are here to do on this planet, and what in the heck it’s all going to look like.

   The truth is, plan or not, the next year of your life, and life after college at large, will look nothing and everything like you could possibly imagine. I had trouble sleeping the night before we started our trek in Patagonia last month so I got out of bed before dawn and sat on the floor in the powder-blue tiled bathroom of Maria’s Hostel, cutting my nails, counting and reflecting upon the memories and mistakes of the past year. I leaned against the door and stared at the fluorescent light overhead and wondered what God was thinking in that moment. Silence. Taped next to the sink a printed sign “no lave la ropa – do not wash the clothes.” I had to laugh. If someone would have told me a year ago that I would be sitting on the floor of a bathroom in Chile in the kind of mental, physical, spiritual state I found myself experiencing, I would have thought they were out of their freaking mind. This is to say, the next year will be more outrageously beautiful and thrilling and fulfilling than you could hope. It will also challenge you to dig in to the deepest, most sacred parts of your soul to stay true to who you are and to fight through all sorts of exhaustion, loneliness, and missed turns.

   You will meet many teachers. Some of them will come to you carrying the light. They are the universe’s way of telling you that you are powerful and beautiful and full of so much potential. They will hold you up like buoys when you get tired during the big swim. They will usher and encourage you to see and take paths that will help you stretch and grow and develop into the woman you’re meant to become. Some teachers will come into your life throwing big punches, they are, what an old friend used to call “the darkies.” They will make you wrestle with your idea of right and wrong and good and bad and test you, persistently, to hold on to yourself. You will duck and miss the blows most days but sometimes you’ll forget about the hook shot and you’ll be on your back seeing stars. It’s okay. This is all part of it. The toughest teachers will be the ones that look like they’re carrying the light, but are carrying something else. They will present you with some pretty sweet sounding opportunities and lifestyles. There will be a split-second lightning bolt feeling you’ll get in your chest when you first meet these teachers that sets you at dis-ease. Latch on to that! Remember this feeling. It is your intuition whispering to stay centered, stay true. Dig into those deep reserves of strength and surround yourself with those who love you unconditionally. They’ll remind you to not take the bait.

   

   Try new things. Put yourself in environments and situations that push on the tender spots of your heart. Look hard. Listen hard. Watch the way people live and love. Be an observer of everything around you and all that you feel. When you are paying attention, the right paths and the “plan” for which you were put here to charge will be revealed to you. Try to block out the noise of “shoulds” that society or your tribe has prescribed for you. It’s your journey. Write it in YOUR pretty colors. As for a career, you very well may find yourself graduating with a degree in International Politics or Advanced Mathematics and taking a job at a grocery store stuffing tortellini in plastic cups for ten bucks an hour. It’s okay. That phase will be part of your becoming. In those places you will learn the dignity of hard work, the true meaning of community, and expand the breadth of your compassion for all people and all things.

   You will laugh a lot. There will be days when all it takes for the wind to blow across your face a certain way and you will be moved to tears with gratitude for all that is. You will cry a lot. There will be nights where the questions and the confusion and the unknown will completely swallow you whole. You will make great choices, you will make really shitty choices. They all matter. When you find yourself in situations or relationships or places that in your gut you know to be pulling you away from who you are, find the courage to leave them. When you find yourself in situations or relationships or places that you know in your gut to be right and whole, find the courage to stay. Even if you’re scared to death. Joan Didion says, “we have to choose the places we don’t walk away from.” Sometimes it will be easier to run than it is to stay. It’s up to you.

   

   If you want to see the world, do it. Nothing is stopping you. Go out and hear the bells ring on steps of Spanish Cathedrals, meditate in a Shinto temple, offer flowers and your secrets to the River Ganges, ride a bike in the rain through the farms of central Vietnam. If you feel called to go then go. You must. Remember too, though, that you don’t need to fling yourself across the globe to shift your perspective. A new place doesn’t change your life. You change your life. You will, at every moment of the next year, have the extraordinary gift of choice to redirect your sails. I will not look back on the past year and see our pilgrimage to Patagonia as the catalyst for closing chapters and starting new ones. I will see a girl sitting in the shower, weeks before mountains and rivers and glaciars with no tears left to cry, letting the water rush over her shoulders and taking the responsibility, FINALLY holding herself accountable, and deciding that she wanted things to be different in her life. Once I truly believed myself capable, a million answers to the million questions I had asked for months on end seemed to appear on the tub ledge, mine for the taking and making. Patagonia didn’t give me that. I gave me that. And you can, and will, too.

   

   I quit my grocery store gig when I got back from Chile, almost a year after leaving San Diego and playing my first hand. I am grateful for what was, but time that I set intentions in my heart and to the people I love to be a better partner, better friend, and to set free alllll the lessons and teachers and triumphs and setbacks to make space for new ones. My truth, today, is different than it was last year and I know it will be different in six months, a year, and every year for the rest of my life but like you, I know that I can take it all step by step. Today if I meet someone at a coffee shop or the lobby of the DMV and they ask me what I “do” I will say I am a writer. I have no idea what that means, really, at least in the tangible sense, but I know just saying it out loud will help manifest my truth. I know that when you are brave and you are honoring of yourself and others, the world gets all sneaky and wonderful on you, wrapping you up in it’s arms to celebrate and support you to keep on. Hold on to those moments. Lap them up. Roll around in them and know that YOUR plan, and the kind of earnestness and passion it will take to discover, is perfect.

   Go get ‘em Sarah. You’re right, you don’t need your life planned out after college. Stand in your truth and know that I am here, we are ALL here, doing cartwheels for you and the journey ahead.

   

   Roasted Spring Vegetable Quinoa Salad

   Serves 4-6

   • 1 ½ cups quinoa (dry)
   • 6 small beets
   • 6 radish bulbs
   • 1 large head fennel, fronds reserved
   • 1 bunch parsley, roughly chopped
   • 1 small red onion, diced
   • ¼ cup minced chives
   • 4-6 cloves garlic, minced
   • 3 plump lemons
   • ½ cup + 3 tbsp olive oil
   • salt & pepper to taste

    

   Bring 3 cups and a few extra tablespoons of water to a boil. Cook quinoa over medium heat for 15-18 minutes or until water is absorbed and the seed has germinated. Set aside to cool.

   Preheat the oven to 400.’ Rigorously wash the beets and radishes, as you will not be peeling them before roasting. Remove grimy tops and cut beets and radishes into fourths, then sixths or 8ths. You want large-ish, yet bit sized wedges. Cut fennel bulb in a similar fashion, top to bottom. Toss wedges of radish, beets, and fennel together with olive oil and salt in a parchment lined sheet pan. Roast in the oven for 20-30 minutes, turning veggies over to brown and soften on all sides.

   In a large mixing bowl, combine chopped parsley, chives, diced red onion with cooled quinoa. In a small jar prepare the dressing by combining ½ cup olive oil, juice of 3 whole lemons, salt, pepper, and minced garlic cloves. Shake to combine.

   Add roasted vegetables to the quinoa mixture. Stir in dressing to coat. Garnish with sprinkling of fennel fronds to finish.

   

   To my complete amazement, Happyolks has been selected this year as a finalist in Saveur Magazine’s Food Blog Awards in the Best Cooking Blog category. It is humbling, thrilling, and outrageously affirming to stand next to friends and mentors in this. Truly. If you like an underdog story, head over and cast your vote for us by Friday, April 19.

2. Let’s Be Warriors

   November 19, 2012 1:01 am 44 Comments

   

   “What are you doing here?” He asked.

   “I was waiting for you,” she replied.

   He noticed that despite the passing years the woman looked the same; the veil hiding her hair had not faded with time.

   She handed him a blue notebook full of blank pages.

   “Write: A Warrior of the Light values a child’s eyes because they are able to look at the world without bitterness. When he wants to find out if the person beside him is worthy of his trust, he tries to see him as a child would.”

   “What is a Warrior of the Light?”

   “You already know that,” she replied with a smile. “He is someone capable of understanding the miracle of life, of fighting to the last for something he believes in – and of hearing the bells that the waves set ringing on the seabed.”

   He had never thought of himself as a Warrior of the Light.

   The woman seemed to read his thoughts. “Everyone is capable of these things. And, though no one thinks himself as a Warrior of the Light, we all are.”

   He looked at the blank pages in the notebook. The woman smiled again.

   “Write about the Warrior,” she said.

   Paulo Coelho Warrior of the Light, A Manual

   

   Shaved Brussels Sprouts, Lentils, Bacon, and Pear Salad 

   Inspired by the Brussels Sprouts Chapter in Nigel Slater’s Tender

   • 2 lbs. brussels sprouts
   • 2 Comice Pears
   • 1/2 cup hazelnuts
   • 1/2 cup cooked bacon
   • 1 cup De Puy Lentils
   • 1/2 cup olive oil
   • 2 heaping tbsp  dijon mustard
   • 1 tbsp honey
   • 2 tbsp of red wine vinegar
   • salt/pepper to taste

    

   Bring two pots of water to a boil. One for the lentils, one for blanching the brussel sprouts. Cook lentils for 20-30 minutes or until tender. Meanwhile, shred brussel sprouts by hand or in a food processer. Set aside. Cook bacon to a crisp and lay to rest on a paper towel until cooled. Chop and set aside.

   Roughly chop hazelnuts and toast in a dry pan for 5 minutes until browned but not burned. Set aside. In a small bowl, combine olive oil, dijon, honey, red wine vinegar, and salt/pepper. Set aside. When all accessory ingredients have been prepped, toss shaved brussels sprouts into the boiling water and blanch for no more than 1 minute. Pour into a colander and rinse with cold water immediately. Dry with a salad spinner-dude or with towels. In a large bowl combine sprouts, cooked lentils, chopped bacon, and toasted hazelnuts. Cut in the slightest slivers of pear over the salad. Toss lightly with your hands before mixing in the dressing. Taste test for extra salt or dijon.

   

   Hey, did you notice we got a facelift!? Thanks to the wonderful Megan Gilger and Aaron Wade for their savvy, kindness, and patience. Pardon the dust as I tidy up new bits and pieces of the site. Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours.

3. Full

   September 10, 2012 8:01 am 41 Comments

   

   We’re scraping together some semblances of rhythm and routine around these parts. Week to week, there is almost nothing that resembles our old life in San Diego let alone the day we cut a check for the new lease. I just rolled the dice in June and haven’t stopped throwing them up to the sky since. There have been a few Sunday mornings reading the Times, cutting out articles that inspire over a hearty breakfast and a few cups of coffee, but haven’t exactly found that same sort of grounding consistency of days past that puts our souls at ease. No complaints, none at all. Just an observation. All summer long we’ve bounced around the country and this new place rounding up jobs and memories. Not busy, just full. I might be maxing out on stimulation here, the months of activity and new-ness since our move is starting to catch up with me I think. I feel it in my knees. I see it under my eyes. I anticipate (I hope) that when Autumn arrives at the end of the month we will have found or created some balance for our weeks.

   There was time for a bit of cake this weekend. Oh, and a glacier. That was nice.

   And so were your comments from the last post. Boy, just floating on all that love and good energy. Thanks guys.

   
   Almond Bundt

   • 2 cups Gluten Free or AP Flour
   • 1 cup Almond Meal
   • 3 tsp baking powder
   • 1 tsp cinnamon
   • pinch of salt
   • 6 eggs
   • 1 1/2 cups sucunat sugar
   • 1 cup melted, lukewarm coconut oil
   • 1 tsp vanilla extract
   • 1/2 tsp almond extract
   • 1 cup canned light coconut milk
   • 2 baskets green figs

   Frosting(s) 

   • 2 cups cream cheese
   • 1 cup powdered sugar
   • 1 tsp vanilla
   • juice of 2-3 lemons

   dairy free option 

   • 2 cups soaked cashews
   • 1/2 + cup coconut milk
   • 1 tsp vanilla
   • 1 drop almond extract
   • 1/2 cup brown rice syrup or Grade B maple syrup
   • juice of one lemon

   

   Directions

   Preheat oven to 350′ F. In a medium bowl combine flour, almond meal, baking powder, cinnamon, a salt. Set aside. In a large bowl, lightly beat 6 eggs until just broken up. Add sugar, coconut oil, vanilla, almond extract, and coconut milk one item at a time, mixing lightly between each addition, until combined. Fold in flour mixture to liquid one cup at a time, stirring lightly until just blended. Grease bundt pan with coconut oil or butter, dusting with flour to coat and prevent sticking. Pour in batter slowly and distribute evenly. Bake for 45-55 minutes until it passes the toothpick test. Let the cake cool for 30 minutes before trying to remove. TRUST.

   Cut fresh figs in quarters or halves, toss with sugar. Set aside.

   For the cream cheese frosting, beat blocks of cream cheese in a stand mixer for 2-3 minutes. As it begins to smooth out, add powdered sugar (I make my own in my blender using turbinado sugar), vanilla, and lemon juice. Beat together. Taste. Does it need more lemon? More sugar? Adjust to taste. If you’d like to achieve the drippy look on the bundt cake, add a bit of coconut milk or water to thin.

   Cashew frosting: use this technique, but add vanilla, almond extract, maple syrup while blending or after straining.

   Pour frosting into a piping bag, or, as I did, into a large ziploc bag with a hole cut in the corner. Drizzle generously over the bundt. Top with sugared figs.

   

4. Banana Hemp Granola

   August 2, 2012 6:26 pm 44 Comments

   

   Dear Universe,

   I am in constant awe of your timing and how you always seem to bring people into (and out of) my life with such explicit purpose. I feel moved and changed and inspired by so many souls in ways that I cannot yet put into words. Thank you. 

   That’s all for now.

   Kelsey

   

   Banana Hemp Granola 

   • 3-4 ish cups thick-cut, old-fashioned oats
   • 1 cup hemp seeds
   • 2 ripe bananas
   • 1/2 cup coconut oil
   • 1/3 cup grade b maple syrup
   • 1/2 tsp vanilla
   • 1/2 tsp cinnamon
   • pinch of sea salt

   Here’s a quick and dirty way to make ultra-clumpy granola: stand mixer. I discovered the technique on a rushed morning while juggling fifteen balls before for a camping trip to the mountains. Mix together all wet ingredients and bananas until you get a thick, chunky liquid. Add oats and let the machine run on medium-high for a few minutes before adding the hemp seeds. Scrape the sides as needed until everything is well-coated and clumping.

   Turn out and spread granola onto a parchment-lined baking sheet and bake for 25-30 minutes at 400′ F. Check at around 20 minutes and turn over with a spatula or wooden spoon to evenly brown everything up. Let cool for 30 minutes before storing. We enjoyed it camping fireside with greek yogurt the next day.

   

5. Feel It Coming

   May 18, 2012 9:45 pm 56 Comments

   

   There were fleas. Millions, it seemed. They loved my ankles. I suppose the outbreak was the last farewell from the foster dogs of winter and spring who nestled under our bed on the blankets from Morocco. We dragged every single modality of fabric from our house to the industrial washers up the road and watched the pesks drown in the suds while eating pizza by-the-slice and studying French verb conjugations on the linoleum. A grizzly looking man in worn denim took laps around the dryers selling yellow squash and strawberries from a wagon. Nancy Grace blared from a mounted television in the corner. Where had the time gone? A few years ago we spent every weekend at this laundromat playing out the same routine (sans fleas), dumping out the stink and work of our week and sorting it with the rest of the neighborhood. We felt like real “grown-ups” with our own washer and dryer when we moved to this place a year ago, the one we will say goodbye to in 10 days. Ten. In ten days I will have packed the car, thrown the tasseled cap, and baked through the last of the flour in the freezer. We’ll hand over the keys and take I-5 North for the last time, waving goodbye with big, big smiles to the coast that has truly held me together in more ways I could possibly repay it for. We’ll come back again, one day, but not soon. Not like this.

   Folding the sheets, I hmmmm’d at Shaun… ”I think we need to do one more post before we leave.” Oatmeal seemed like a strange note to end on here. Of course, the saint that he is, agreed to whatever, whenever. Between the last exams, last bike rides, last get-togethers, last trips to goodwill… I wanted there to be tacos. Yellow squash seemed appropriate. And I wanted there to be music. I made you a mix to listen to while you make these. Songs from my story, our story, songs that maybe can become a part of yours. Sometimes I think a few minutes of lyric and instrument can say more about the swells of emotion that rise and fall during times like these better than I possibly could.

   This is it folks. This is where the good stuff is. Swimming it all right now, arms stretched wide, lapping up the last bits of sweetness from this bowl of lessons. I feel it coming. Newness. So, so Happy. Ready.

   

   Soft Shell Squash Tacos

   Inspired by Suzie’s Farm

   • 4-6 yellow crookneck squash
   • 1 cup of fresh dill, minced
   • 1 red onion, minced
   • 1 shallot, minced
   • 1/2 cup crumbled feta
   • 1 tsp olive oil
   • 1 tsp red wine vinegar
   • 1 tsp dijon mustard
   • salt/pepper
   • (optional:) chopped spinach or other green mix

   • 2 cups masa harina
   • 1 + cup hot water
   • 1 tsp salt

   For the tortillas, dissolve salt into the measured glass of warm water. Pour over the bowl of masa harnia slowly, stirring as you go. Mix until combined; smooth but not sticky. Knead/press into a ball. Cover, and let rest for as long as you can wait 30 min-2hrs.

   In the meantime, cut squash into small diced bits. Combine with minced red onion and shallot over medium heat with the olive oil and vinegar. Coat and stir until you get a bit of steam going, about 3-4 minutes, tops. Remove from heat, mix in dill, mustard, and salt and pepper. Set aside.

   Back to the tortillas. Layout a few (2-3) sheets of parchment paper and fetch a flat plate or dish to help you press out the dough. Pinch off a golf-ball sized chunk of dough and roll into a smooth ball. Set between two pieces of parchment and start to flatten a bit with your hand. Continue with hands, or for even edges, grab a heavy bowl and put your weight into it over the sheets of parchment and the ball. Remove, peel back parchment, viola. Cook for two minutes on each side in an non-greased frying pan. Set aside and begin to stack ‘em up.

   Before you’re ready to eat, mix feta into the squash mixture and toss with a bit more salt and pepper. I like these with 40 percent greens, 60 percent squash, but feel free to experiment.