Is that [plastic] fig vegan?

When the urge to freshen up our spare bathroom came over me a few months ago, the decorating theme ended up being "figs".  This wasn't a huge job as it only involved a coat of fresh paint, new towels, and a few new accessories. I've always loved figs (fig jam being  my absolute favorite), and since we have several trees in our garden, the whole fig thing seemed like a good fit.
However, it wasn't a couple of days since the paint had dried that I noticed that the two fake figs I'd carefully positioned in a basket around the sink had been sampled. Seeing the obvious tooth marks in the figs didn't exactly come as a surprise.  It took me two seconds to figure out that bimba  was the culprit, but I've got to wonder, when she bit into the first fig and realized it was plastic, what exactly was her logic for biting into the second one? 

Candied orange peel, does it still count as fruit?

I was researching vegan panettone recipes the other day, and got the idea of making my own candied orange peel.  Come to find out it's not only an integral part of panettone, it's also to die for when dipped in chocolate - need I say more?



The recipe makes a lot, but it keeps forever



Homemade orange peel - so much better than store-bought!

The recipe I chose was Tiffany's at the Bread Without Butter blog. It turned out to be super easy -- I love two-ingredient recipes :)  It didn't take that long to make either.
 

Candied Orange Peel

Yields approximately 2 cups

4 organic navel oranges, rinsed well (to rid the fruit of wax coating)

2 1/4 c evaporated cane juice or granulated sugar, divided

1 1/2 c water

Candy thermometer

Remove the peel from the oranges and cut it into 1/4" strips.  Save the flesh for other use.

Place the peels in a pot and add just enough water to cover, bring it to a boil, then drain. Repeat the process twice, drain the peels, and set aside.

In a large pot, combine 2 cups of the evaporated cane juice with the water, stirring to dissolve the sugar.  Heat the sugar-water mixture over medium flame until the temperature reaches approximately 230 degrees Fahrenheit ("thread stage").  Add the peels, reduce the heat to low, and simmer for 35 to 40 minutes, until the peels are translucent.  Remove from heat and carefully arrange the peels on a wire rack to dry for several hours or overnight.  While still tacky, roll the peels (a handful at a time) in the remaining 1/4 cup of sugar, gently shaking off excess crystals.  Return the peels to the wire rack to dry completely.  Enjoy!

So I'm still prepping for the panettone, namely waiting on the sourdough starter to do its thing.  Who knew you needed a starter to make panettone?  Well, I didn't. Even though I should have because I'd been reading all about starters on VeganDad's blog.  Last week I finally made it official and bought the bread making book that inspires Vegan Dad so much, The Bread Baker's Apprentice: Mastering the Art of Extraordinary Bread. 

It really is a phenomenal book, filled with recipes (obviously), but also cool anecdotes about the history of bread and its evolution over time. You could totally get lost in it, and the pictures bring me back to my childhood in Italy, and the yeasty smell seeping out of the panetteria in the mountain village where I grew up. 

The only downside to the book is that you can't be in a hurry.  Getting from A to Z with your starter alone takes a week, and only THEN do you get to the main part of the recipes, which also have to rise and rest multiple times to develop flavor and texture. 
I know, I know, once you do get a useable starter, things do go quicker.  If you feed the starter correctly, you'll always have some on hand etc., but I wanted to bake panettone in time for the holidays, and by holidays I mean Christmas, not Easter!

Oh well, I guess I'll just have help myself to a few candied oranges while I wait for the sourdough to erupt out of its measuring cup (God willing!).

Vegan Challah recipe from an unlikely source.

 

Vegan Challah. And yes, I only own one Hanukkah table cloth,
which I use over and over again!

My mother-in-law's Hanukkah present threw me for a loop this year. Like most upper middle East Coast jewish women, she has impeccable taste, high standards, and a superhuman talent for surrounding herself with beautiful and expensive things.  So for the past fifteen years as MHH's slightly eccentric but personable wife, I've enjoyed the pleasure of her generous and tasteful gifts. Mostly hip clothes and custom jewelry. 

This year though, MIL branched out.  The present I opened last night was a book, and not just any book.  It was a cookbook.  What's so weird about that, you ask?  Well, let me answer by saying that the "V" word usually falls under the heading of "don't ask don't tell".  Vegan isn't tabu per se, but it leads to the kind of conversation that goes nowhere and is usually avoided altogether whenever we get together. 

But back to the weird cookbook.  It's called Quiches, Kugels, and Couscous: My Search for Jewish Cooking in France by Joan Nathan.

My first thought on opening the present was "What was MIL thinking?" I mean, I can handle a bit of veganizing here and there when it comes to recipes, but quiche, really? It's got to be just about the hardest thing to veganize -- basically all cheese and eggs, right? Pleeze.

So I came really close to dismissing the book entirely, but luckily decided to give it a chance, if nothing more because the author travels right near where I live in Provence, barging in on Jewish families as she goes from one end of France to the next.  I was really glad I kept an open mind (isn't that always the case?) because I uncovered a really good challah recipe.  Easy to veganize and pretty. 

Rabbi's Wife's Challah

Ingredients

1 tablespoon active dry yeast

1 cup of lukewarm water

1 tablespoon sugar

3/4 teaspoon egg replacer

1 1/2 tablespoon water

1/6 cup vegetable oil

3 1/2 to 4 cups of flour 

1/2 teaspoon salt

Method: Dissolve the yeast and sugar in the lukewarm water in the bowl of a countertop mixer equipped with a dough hook. Set aside to rest for ten minutes, until the yeast starts to bubble. Meanwhile, mix the egg replacer and water together until smooth, then add to the yeast mixture along with the oil.  With the mixer on low speed, start adding the flour and salt, one cup at a time. You should obtain a smooth dough that is tacky but not sticky.  Let the dough rise for 45 minutes in an oiled bowl covered with a towel.

 

When the dough has doubled in size, punch it down, then divide into three equal pieces.  Roll each piece into a rope, about 15-18 inches long, then braid.  Bend the braid into a circle and connect both ends, forming a pretty wreath-shaped bread. Place on a baking sheet covered with parchment paper and paint dough with non-dairy milk. Allow the dough to rise again for 45 minutes, covered, then paint again with non-dairy milk.  Put the challah in the oven and turn temperature to 400 degrees.  Cook for 30 minutes, or until the top is a golden brown and the crust sounds hollow when tapped.  Let cool before slicing. Et voilà!





Vegan Challah - and yes, I only own one Hanukkah table cloth, 
which is why you see it all my holiday photos :)

 

 

   

Vegan Oreo cookies with a Hanukkah twist.




Three fillings: white, peanut butter, and chocolate ganache

 
Well, Hanukkah starts tonight. Feels like we just got the Thanksgiving mess cleared up and here we go again firing up the stove!


To get myself in the mood for more serious cooking in the afternoon (latkes, jelly donuts and onion rings are on the menu), the morning was spent making cookies.  How else does one celebrate a holiday (any holiday) but by whipping up something delicious and decadent?  But what would be both "day before Hanukkah"-worthy AND appeal to the bimbi?   They were still reeling from my last batch of cookies, where we all found out that kids don't like fresh ground cardamone in their cookies... anyway, today Isa Chandra Moskowitz and Terry Hope Romero came to the rescue with their vegan oreos recipe (found in Vegan Cookies Invade your Cookie Jar).  Come to think of it, the oreos are giving Isa Chandra and Terry a chance to redeem themselves, since the cardamone cookie recipe that bombed with the bimbi last week was also theirs, albeit came from the Wholesome Cookies section of the book - should have known to stay away... :)


Vegan oreos are some of of my faves - I make them often because you just can't mess these up, and also because you can make them in two steps - first the baking, then the sandwitching later.  Best part is that in winter my kitchen is always cold, so I get to skip the part where the dough has to sit in the fridge.



Festive Hanukkah-inspired cookies, just out of the oven



Thanks to my trusted Hanukkah-shaped cookie cutters in hand, all four oven trays were soon loaded with bake-ready cookies, and twelve minutes later, voilà! -   Just remember when making sandwitch cookies of different shapes, that you have to cut out even numbers of each shape, so that when it's time to assemble them, each side will have a match. Happy Hanukkah everyone!




The mother of all tofu presses.



My giant press, or as I like to call it, "my medieval tofu tower"!

 When my family eats tofu, we eat tofu.  As a result, the internet-bought tofu press I'd ordered from England just wasn't cutting it.  Don't get me wrong, the tofu tasted fine, but there just wasn't enough of it for four bean curd enthusiasts.  In comes MHH (My Hot Husband), my resident McGiver.  After a thorough explanation of the problem ('honey - if you want tofu, you gotta build a contraption to press the stuff that comes out of the soymilk maker') MHH got to work in the shed.  Wonderful things had come out of the shed before, so I had every reason to believe that this time would be no different. And sure enough, with the help of four wood planks, a couple of nails and an electric drill, MHH's creative talents gave birth to a new, family-size (okay, giant), tofu press!




The tofu press that drarfs all others

 If you peruse the internet for tofu press making instructions, you'll notice that one can get very fancy (notice I didn't say anal, but I could have), but I assure you that, aesthetics aside, my rustic-looking barely-sanded-down suitcase sized press works like a charm.  In the photo, I made a rather small hunk of tofu, using only 4liters of homemade soymilk, but I have in the past made twice the amount in one go.  The end result is so delicious, I can leave the tofu out on a plate with a salt shaker and a knife nearby, and my five year old bimba who normally pecks at food like birds do, will walk by and help herself to a big chunck. You know you're doing something right when your kid chooses tofu over cookies :)

Thanksgiving, Hanukkah, and bimba's birthday !

Who said French TV sucks?  Well, it actually does blow 99% of the time, but tonight after flipping channels for about an hour I stumbled on an interview (in English, to boot) of cutie pie Adam Levine.  For those of you who don't know Adam (yes, we're on a first name basis) he's lead signer of Maroon 5.  There's something addictive about this guy and it's not, I swear, his jewish-ness. I guess I have a thing for tall, self-deprecating, five o'clock-shadowed pop stars. And listening to him talk on the TV as I write this, the boy actually has some depth - can I have an order of brains with that sexy swagger?


On another note, the day kind of got away from me today, especially in the afternoon when MHH and I resolved to go to the local toy store looking for Hanukkah presents for the kids.   Whether it was the toxic paint fumes emanating from the discount section or my brain going into overdrive on its own I'll never know, but within twenty minutes of perusing the shelves, I started feeling seriously overwhelmed by the bright colors, flashing lights, and belligerent parents aggressively trying to grab the last bag of banz (les banz, as they call them here).  Luckily this was one of those days where the shopping stars aligned - the right toys almost chose themselves and landed in the cart, and in the end we picked some good stuff ... a guitar, Lego, and rollerblades for bimbo and a princess keyboard and assorted stuffed animals for bimba. She lives for anything fuzzy.  We also got them walkie-talkies, but come to think of it I wonder if they'll get much use. 


So tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and I've decided to make an attempt at celebrating it.  It'll be the first time since moving to Provence.  The past couple of years the idea of cooking a whole bunch of food for just the four of us (and bimba eats like a bird, so she almost doesn't count) was too daunting.  Plus with Whole Foods gone there also went the Tofurkey.  And if that wasn't enough, I am an very disciplined eater these days (more on that on a subsequent post), so I'd be essentially cooking for MHH and bimbo, the two men in my life. 


Truth be told, Thanksgiving did not make the top of my favorite holiday list even when we lived in Florida.  We mostly celebrated it because MHH's elderly aunt lived nearby and would be lonely if we didn't have her over.  For me, the highlight was reading 'T Was the Night Before Thanksgiving to the kids, and oohing and aahing over the photos of the turkeys we adopted that year from the Farm Sanctuary. 


This year the vibe is different.  Come to think of it, I think I've changed.  I've become compulsively addicted to reading vegan food blogs online, and marking off dozens of inspiring recipes.  So now I have long list of recipes I want to try, and a good number of them are Thanksgiving favorites.  I'm not sure the kids will like sweet potato pie (can't find canned pumpkin here anywhere, so that pie's out), but I'll keep you posted.  For dessert I'm branching out (when in Rome...) and will be trying out this mille feuilles from an amazing new French site I found, Ma Cuisine Vegetalienne.


Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

What did this smoothie ever do to you?

Hi everyone!  This is the first entry on my new blog, and I figured I should write something - anything - to ease into it.  I'm calling this blog Vegan Voilà because once you go vegan, there you are - voilà! I could also tell you that choosing to be vegan (almost  ten years ago) nourishes my sense of connection with my surroundings, my universe, and my soul, but although that's true, it's too a tad too deep for a casual blog about a vegan chick who recently moved to Provence and wants to tell you about her trials and tribulations!
 
Speaking of challenges, my five year-old bimba comes downstairs for breakfast this morning, and although her mood had been fine up until that point, takes a sip of MHH's banana-date-homemade-almond-milk smoothie (the same one he makes EVERY day), and says : "yuck! this is disgusting!".  When MHH points out that this is the same smoothie she happily drinks every morning , all hell breaks loose.  Next thing we know she's screaming, thumping her foot, fists clenched.  She just won't have it.  Her exact words were "I CAN'T HANDLE IT!" 


At this point, both MHH and I felt we should let the proverbial door hit her in the --s, but who wants to start the day like this?  So the next twenty minutes are spent trying to convince bimba that yes, she has to drink her smoothie and yes, she has to go to school today and no, she can't have a lollypop at eight o'clock in the morning.  Isn't she too young to behave like she going into hormone-induced self-combustion? Isn't that MY hard-earned right?! 


Of course, guilt sets it the moment she left my sight, pulling her giant backpack up the stairs at the local village school she attends here in Provence, where we've lived for two years now.  All thoughts of smoothie-bashing dissipate as I drive off, overcome by a sense of pride for this little girl who is now in first grade in a regular French school, where two years ago she'd never even heard of a country named France.  I think back to two years ago, to the first day we dropped her and bimbo off at their new pre-school, the only school in the tiny countryside village of Provence where we'd just moved. They could not've stood out more if they'd tried.  American, Jewish, Vegan, Nudist children.  Oh, and did I mention they didn't speak a word of French?


A big part of me seriously wondered if they'd come out of the experience alive, and the doubts kept building up in the days to follow.  As the novelty gradually wore off, the reality of their situation became clear.  Their old friends from Florida were gone and would be hard to replace, the weather was shitty and cold, the teachers might as well have been speaking Chinese.  We went through a tough six weeks.  The kids would cry miserably at drop off every day, and I would cry in the car on the way home.  And then one day, bimbo made a friend.  Samuel was the only other jewish kid in the entire school, so it was doubly cook that they should connect.


Fast forward six months (how long is that in "kid years"?), and they're both speaking French.  Not fluently yet, but damn! They're holding their own at recess, no longer bullied and traumatized and come home with new words every day.  Finally, light at the end of the tunnel. What a relief that was!


So my reminiscing this morning really helped put things in perspective.  Bimba's been moody lately, and often downright rude, and although I shouldn't condone it, I also realize that we all need to blow off steam once in a while.  I know in my heart that my job as a parent is to respond with kindness and love.  The journey is always, always more important than the destination, and it feels like the decision to trade our fast-paced career-oriented life for one where on any given afternoon you can find bimba, le chien, and I wondering around the provencal country side gathering pine cones and kindling for the fire was in alignment with everything that I've come to believe.  The quality of the attention we give the present moment as it unfolds is the very best way we have as human beings to carve a balanced and peaceful future.  Even if it means that smoothies are out.