Can anyone tell me how to leave comments? Even though it's my own blog, I cannot figure it out. The downside of being a Babyboomer, I guess. So here is a reply to N's desire to know more about making tamales:
First, the directions on the Maseca bag call for using baking powder. This makes the tamale dough less dense, but gives it a funny mouth-feel. I leave it out, and make the tamales fluffier by beating the shortening very well.
Regarding shortening, don't use conventional lard. If you don't have a source for clean lard, or would like to make them vegetarian, I suggest using coconut oil or palm oil; they're solid at room temperature and don't contain transfats. which are evil at room temperature. If you are afraid of solid fats, don't make tamales. (Although if you have a good recipe for fat-free tamales, by all means post it!)
When you make the dough for bento tamales, make sure it is not too stiff, since you don't want the tamales to be hard at room temperature. Use enough water that the dough spreads easily but is not too soft.
My very favorite filling is a stick of cheese, a few leaves of cilantro, and a spoonful of green tomatillo sauce. Serve with more tomatillo sauce on the side. Mmmmmm.....
If you don't have a friend to show you, YouTube is your next-best resource for learning how to make any kind of food. Happy rolling!
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
One Hot Tamale
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Tamale, pickles ramps, calamata olives, extra sauce for tamale, rice and salsa. |
Tamales are quite easy to make, and they're a good way to use up odds and ends. Traditionally you would roll them in corn husks or banana leaves, but a square of parchment or foil tied with kitchen string works, too; some ladies use the food-service waxed paper or foil squares that are pre-cut and come in a box like Kleenex. Most grocery stores sell Maseca, which is dried masa, and it has instructions on the bag. Instructions for rolling are beyond my scope, but there are probably numerous YouTube videos. Let me just say that, if you have a helper to tie them and a pressure cooker to speed the steaming, you can make a dozen tamales in short order. We ate half for dinner and saved the other half for lunch.
For fillings I tend to use leftovers, especially ones that are skimpy or visually unappealing, like all the scraps of meat you picked off the carcass when you made stock, or the leftover pulled pork that's not quite enough for everyone. (Or that delicious beef tongue you should have disguised better before serving it the first time.) These were made with chicken shreds, black olives and enchilada sauce. A nice vegetarian filling would be cilantro and cheese, or a filling of beans, corn and olives. Tamales are very good travel food--easy to eat, not messy, come in their own container--and as such should be added to anyone's bento repertoire.
Pickled Ramps
1 cup white balsamic
1 cup water
2 Tbsp sugar
1 tsp salt
ramps
Clean the ramps and cut off most of the leaves (use them in soup or stir fry). If you are using a pint jar, just cut them about an inch shorter than the jar. Pack as many into the jar as you can without bruising them. Warm the brine to dissolve the sugar and salt. Let it cool, then pour over the ramps. Screw on the lid and put them in the fridge. They'll be ready in a couple days. Mmmmmmmm.
Faux Enchilada Sauce
This is my lovely sister-in-law Jenny's no fuss, no recipe way to make enchilada sauce when you live two miles north of Podunk in The Land Mexicans Forgot. This is not authentic, just easy and tasty. And gluten-free, which the canned ones are not.
tomato (sauce, diced, puree, paste, whatever)
canned chipotles in adobo, to taste
olive oil
garlic
onion
chili powder (or paprika, cumin and oregano)
salt
tiny pinch of cinnamon
Put everything into the food processor. You may sautee the onions and garlic first if you like. If using tomato paste, add water. Blend and taste. Use.
For example, when I made this last week, I used a 28oz can of diced tomatoes, 1/3 of a small can of chipotles, a glug of olive oil, one onion diced and sauteed, one garlic clove, a tablespoon-ish of paprika, about 2 tsp of cumin, and no oregano cause I'm out--I might have subbed a shake of poultry seasoning. It made some fine enchiladas last week, and worked great in the tamales, too.
Friday, May 6, 2011
Wholesome Leftovers, Artfully Arranged
When your child is on a special diet--and frankly, any diet that contains no processed foods is a special diet in most public schools--it is important to get into the right mind set. We first began this journey in response to the children's digestive and behavioral issues: At ages two and four, one used to rock herself for hours, while the other went all glassy-eyed and banged her head on the floor. In desperation I tried an elimination diet, and as soon as I removed wheat, things improved markedly. Removing wheat took away one layer of interference, making it easier to identify the next thing, which was corn. It took a couple years to get it right, and we made plenty of mistakes. The biggest mistake was to feel sorry for ourselves.
After about a year of diet modification, the kids began to have a "poor me" attitude about food, and the food other kids had looked desirable. It was compounded by the fact that other people also felt sorry for them, like they were being deprived. That is when I began a campaign to turn our mindset around.
The very first thing was to help the kids understand what we were doing. I tried to make it clear that I was giving them the very best materials they would need while they were growing their bodies. We talked about their great-grandmother who grew up on a farm eating nutrient-dense foods; now she eats mostly processed food, but because she grew up eating well, it gave her good health for most of her life. I also pointed out how many children have families that do not know how to cook, and who never get to eat food made with love. We made a point to frequent small mom-and-pop eateries where food was made from scratch, and went to lots of potlucks with others who liked to cook. In this way, the children got the idea that home-cooked food equals love. I also taught them to cook simple dishes so that they had power over food. Eventually, they came to see that, rather than being denied something, they were being given an incredible gift. Their "special" diet truly was special!
Their first school experience was the Friends Western School in Pasadena where they learned to get along with others, and were exposed to different, but mostly wholesome, lunches. Still, it was a struggle keeping the kids from eating wheat or corn from other people's lunches. That's when we got our first bentos, and that's where I came up with the next part of my "special lunch" philosophy: Not only should your child want to eat it, but other children at the table should want to eat it, too. Psychologically, that puts your child at a huge advantage. They get less hassle about what they're eating and are more able to deal with the questions and the inevitable amount of teasing. When other kids admire or even want to sample their lunch, they are empowered, instead of victimized, by their special diet. There is a huge difference between "I can't eat that" and "I get to eat this."
Now the kids are older, and we have moved to a small town. We have had to take the bento up a notch: I pack more food, and it has to look better, because peer pressure is a very real thing in third grade and beyond. Not only that, but in our small town the food my children eat seems even more strange. In Southern California, no one would look twice at jicama, but during La Segunda's first month of school here, a child asked her, "What's that in your lunch?" It was an orange cut into quarters. The child had only ever eaten canned oranges. So be sure to pack enough to share. (It's not allowed at our school, but the kids do it anyway.) That helps pave the way for the notion that food can be made from scratch.
Sometimes after watching a movie like "Supersize Me" or "Food Inc," the children will come home and make fun of the fact that so-and-so was eating Lunchables, or had nothing but candy and cookies in their lunch. I realize that, to some extent, it is to help themselves feel better about being "different." But it's important to point out that the other kids or their parents just don't know about food, that across the USA there are children whose parents and even grandparents grew up eating packaged food and do not know how to cook. I observe how lucky we were to have had food issues that led us to cook everything ourselves, and mention that their schoolmates probably know about lots of things that we are ignorant about. At this point we talk about what other kids or their parents are good at. Eventually that degenerates into "who is the best at belching sentences," but the point is well taken.
On the positive side, my children are ambassadors of good food. They have displayed and even sampled out such heretofore unknown comestibles as turnips, nori, Jerusalem artichokes, and mango. Many children do admire their lunches, and some lunch monitors make a point of checking it out. Their friends have been known to go home and ask their parents if they can have broccoli or cherry tomatoes in their lunch, too. Children are often amazed at the marvels that can be made by a brilliant chef such as myself. Just last week, I heard that I am known as a genius because I can make gelatin from scratch. Seriously. In a world where oranges are unrecognizable and gelatin is beyond the skill of mere mortals, it does not take much to impress. Yes, they still get teased, and they still sometimes bring lunch home uneaten, but with the right PR behind you, wholesome leftovers artfully arranged in a box can improve many lives for the better.
After about a year of diet modification, the kids began to have a "poor me" attitude about food, and the food other kids had looked desirable. It was compounded by the fact that other people also felt sorry for them, like they were being deprived. That is when I began a campaign to turn our mindset around.
The very first thing was to help the kids understand what we were doing. I tried to make it clear that I was giving them the very best materials they would need while they were growing their bodies. We talked about their great-grandmother who grew up on a farm eating nutrient-dense foods; now she eats mostly processed food, but because she grew up eating well, it gave her good health for most of her life. I also pointed out how many children have families that do not know how to cook, and who never get to eat food made with love. We made a point to frequent small mom-and-pop eateries where food was made from scratch, and went to lots of potlucks with others who liked to cook. In this way, the children got the idea that home-cooked food equals love. I also taught them to cook simple dishes so that they had power over food. Eventually, they came to see that, rather than being denied something, they were being given an incredible gift. Their "special" diet truly was special!
Their first school experience was the Friends Western School in Pasadena where they learned to get along with others, and were exposed to different, but mostly wholesome, lunches. Still, it was a struggle keeping the kids from eating wheat or corn from other people's lunches. That's when we got our first bentos, and that's where I came up with the next part of my "special lunch" philosophy: Not only should your child want to eat it, but other children at the table should want to eat it, too. Psychologically, that puts your child at a huge advantage. They get less hassle about what they're eating and are more able to deal with the questions and the inevitable amount of teasing. When other kids admire or even want to sample their lunch, they are empowered, instead of victimized, by their special diet. There is a huge difference between "I can't eat that" and "I get to eat this."
Now the kids are older, and we have moved to a small town. We have had to take the bento up a notch: I pack more food, and it has to look better, because peer pressure is a very real thing in third grade and beyond. Not only that, but in our small town the food my children eat seems even more strange. In Southern California, no one would look twice at jicama, but during La Segunda's first month of school here, a child asked her, "What's that in your lunch?" It was an orange cut into quarters. The child had only ever eaten canned oranges. So be sure to pack enough to share. (It's not allowed at our school, but the kids do it anyway.) That helps pave the way for the notion that food can be made from scratch.
Sometimes after watching a movie like "Supersize Me" or "Food Inc," the children will come home and make fun of the fact that so-and-so was eating Lunchables, or had nothing but candy and cookies in their lunch. I realize that, to some extent, it is to help themselves feel better about being "different." But it's important to point out that the other kids or their parents just don't know about food, that across the USA there are children whose parents and even grandparents grew up eating packaged food and do not know how to cook. I observe how lucky we were to have had food issues that led us to cook everything ourselves, and mention that their schoolmates probably know about lots of things that we are ignorant about. At this point we talk about what other kids or their parents are good at. Eventually that degenerates into "who is the best at belching sentences," but the point is well taken.
On the positive side, my children are ambassadors of good food. They have displayed and even sampled out such heretofore unknown comestibles as turnips, nori, Jerusalem artichokes, and mango. Many children do admire their lunches, and some lunch monitors make a point of checking it out. Their friends have been known to go home and ask their parents if they can have broccoli or cherry tomatoes in their lunch, too. Children are often amazed at the marvels that can be made by a brilliant chef such as myself. Just last week, I heard that I am known as a genius because I can make gelatin from scratch. Seriously. In a world where oranges are unrecognizable and gelatin is beyond the skill of mere mortals, it does not take much to impress. Yes, they still get teased, and they still sometimes bring lunch home uneaten, but with the right PR behind you, wholesome leftovers artfully arranged in a box can improve many lives for the better.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Garnish, Garnish, Garnish!
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Rice with sesame and nori sprinkles, deviled eggs, steamed broccoli drizzled with olive oil. |
Make a habit of keeping something green and something orange/red in the fridge, and you will always have a visual contrast. This morning's lunch was party leftovers: Leftover cheese made into quesadillas, with a leftover chunk of pate in a blue silicone cup. The contrast was a dab of yellow mustard on the pate, toasted nori in a small pink silicone cup, and a few cucumber slices tucked into the last corner. The colorful silicone cups are a bit of a cheat--you'd like your kids to actually eat the colors of the rainbow--but on a morning when the cupboard is bare they can provide the visual pop that helps make the lunch visually appealing.
Natalie from Minnesota asks if silicone liners can be reused, and the answer is yes! Eventually they might tear, but they usually get lost first. Meanwhile, they provide years of service. Moms who bake can use the muffin-sized ones to make tiny casseroles, quiches, apple crisps, and other diminutive lunchbox treats.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Cheese Dillys
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Quesadillas made with organic brown rice tortillas, shredded lettuce, bean dip&salsa, carrot sticks |
The quesadillas are best made in the morning, but it takes just a minute. We keep the tortillas in the freezer and just remove what we need; they thaw quickly in the hot skillet. I put only cheese inside, but depending on your diner, you could add cilantro or chilies, or a bit of leftover cooked meat or tofu. My friend Katherine uses Daiya brand vegan cheese, which is quite good. Don't add too much stuff unless you want it to be a burrito. The brown rice tortillas tend to get soggy faster than wheat ones, so don't add salsa.
The bean dip and salsa are on the side, in a lidded container that fits in the bento. The dip is just refried beans with salsa stirred into it, and topped with another blob of salsa. This is in accordance with rule #3, Never Pack Anything That Looks Like Poop. The red salsa on top disguises the murky bean dip beneath. I filled the box with whatever colorful vegetables I happened to have at hand: In this case, baby carrots and shredded lettuce fit the bill. Other good choices would be red pepper slices, lightly steamed broccoli, cherry tomatoes, snap peas, or anything colorful to contrast with the beige tortillas.
If you can't get brown rice tortillas, use corn tortillas. You could even use crepes. If your family eats wheat, you could buy green spinach tortillas and red tomato tortillas: Make one of each color, cut them up, and alternate colors in the bento. Little kids particularly like finger food, and they like choices, even if it's just to choose between a red one or a green one.
Speaking of choices, it is an important aspect of Special Diet Bento: All kids like choices, and for those who have to follow a prescribed diet, it gives them a measure of control. For instance, traditional bag lunch contains a whole apple, but in bento the apple is cut up. The box above is meant to hold one sandwich--that's not much of a choice unless your child dismantles it, which is messy for the lunch monitor. With sliced apple and quesadilla, they can choose which slice to eat first, which slice to share, whether to dip into the sauce all at once or between bites, whether to put the lettuce on top, whether to use the carrots to do a walrus imitation. They can count all the components and make up little games. Interactive is attractive, and it takes very little extra effort on the part of the lunch packer. The more engaging their lunch is to themselves and the children around them, the more lucky they will feel to have a special diet.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
What's in a Name?
People seem to categorize foods according to labels like "protein" and "carbohydrate" without recognizing that most foods, particularly vegetables, fall into multiple categories. For instance, seaweeds have tons of protein. Mushrooms have lots of carbohydrates, as do apples. Most vegetables contain about the same amount of protein as human breast milk, not to mention being loaded with carbs, fiber, vitamins and minerals. Many people would not consider apples and peanut butter to be a meal, but between them they have plenty of protein, fiber, carbs, fat and nutrients, not to mention calories. Apples and hummus is even better!
Labels can be deceiving. It is easy to say that a bologna sandwich on white bread is a lunch and apples and peanut butter is not, because the former is perceived as "lunch food" and the latter isn't. But which one is more nutrient dense? Which makes a better breakfast, homemade soup or Cap'n Crunch with conventional milk? Schools don't question the idea of serving sugary processed cereal to kids in the cafeteria because it is cheap, available and "accepted." But is it doing them any good?
Often people ask why processed sugar is bad. Isn't it just another food? Think about it like this: Whatever you put into your body has to be digested; that is, nutrients are extracted and the trash is removed. We tend to think in terms of calories, but it takes a wide range of our body's resources to break down the food we eat: vitamins, minerals and enzymes are also used up in the process. So every time we eat a food that has empty calories--that is, it provides calories but has no other nutritional value--our bodies operate at a deficit. It's like taking more money out of the bank than you put in the bank; eventually, you'll be broke. This argument can be made of any heavily processed "food": It is nothing more than ash with calories and flavor, and your body has to pay to get rid of it. (My husband often refers to items in the Dollar Store as "cheap plastic from China manufactured for American landfills." It's the plastic equivalent of processed food.)
High calorie, low nutrient foods can lead to obesity, because they allow a person to eat a high volume of food without providing enough nutrition. That's how you can eat a lot and still crave more--there's something missing that your body needs. The "cure" is to eat nutrient-dense foods as much as possible and ignore the calories. Michael Pollen can tell you all about it, but the easy answer is to load your diet with vegetables and fruit, about half of them raw, and the occasional splurge will sort itself out. Diet isn't about what you eat occasionally, but what you eat habitually.
The best reason to pack a lunch: to give your diner tasty, nutrient-dense foods that are body building, not body depleting. Lunchables may look like food, and may fit the description of what people perceive to be "lunch," but it's a sham. Any lunch you make at home from quality, mostly organic ingredients would be more nutritious, even if it is a tangerine, a dill pickle and three homemade peanut butter cookies. Let go of the labels, focus on what your child wants and needs, and a new world of dining will open up for you.
Labels can be deceiving. It is easy to say that a bologna sandwich on white bread is a lunch and apples and peanut butter is not, because the former is perceived as "lunch food" and the latter isn't. But which one is more nutrient dense? Which makes a better breakfast, homemade soup or Cap'n Crunch with conventional milk? Schools don't question the idea of serving sugary processed cereal to kids in the cafeteria because it is cheap, available and "accepted." But is it doing them any good?
Often people ask why processed sugar is bad. Isn't it just another food? Think about it like this: Whatever you put into your body has to be digested; that is, nutrients are extracted and the trash is removed. We tend to think in terms of calories, but it takes a wide range of our body's resources to break down the food we eat: vitamins, minerals and enzymes are also used up in the process. So every time we eat a food that has empty calories--that is, it provides calories but has no other nutritional value--our bodies operate at a deficit. It's like taking more money out of the bank than you put in the bank; eventually, you'll be broke. This argument can be made of any heavily processed "food": It is nothing more than ash with calories and flavor, and your body has to pay to get rid of it. (My husband often refers to items in the Dollar Store as "cheap plastic from China manufactured for American landfills." It's the plastic equivalent of processed food.)
High calorie, low nutrient foods can lead to obesity, because they allow a person to eat a high volume of food without providing enough nutrition. That's how you can eat a lot and still crave more--there's something missing that your body needs. The "cure" is to eat nutrient-dense foods as much as possible and ignore the calories. Michael Pollen can tell you all about it, but the easy answer is to load your diet with vegetables and fruit, about half of them raw, and the occasional splurge will sort itself out. Diet isn't about what you eat occasionally, but what you eat habitually.
The best reason to pack a lunch: to give your diner tasty, nutrient-dense foods that are body building, not body depleting. Lunchables may look like food, and may fit the description of what people perceive to be "lunch," but it's a sham. Any lunch you make at home from quality, mostly organic ingredients would be more nutritious, even if it is a tangerine, a dill pickle and three homemade peanut butter cookies. Let go of the labels, focus on what your child wants and needs, and a new world of dining will open up for you.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Cold Tofu Bento
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