I also made seitan, using Bittman’s recipe from How to Cook Everything Vegetarian. The nibble I had to test done-ness was tasty, but it’ll be better when I actually do something with it.

For reference, here is what I put in the simmering water (6 cups):

• huge heaping tablespoon of brown miso
• generous glug, glug from the tamari bottle
• two cloves garlic, peeled and cut in half
• 2 star anise
• 4 cloves
• 2 bay leaves
• generous amount of alder-smoked sea salt

Into fall and winter… the time for smoky salt and smoky tea…

I fortuitously stumbled upon this treat when I included too much cooking liquid in the chickpeas when I squished them. The texture was more like soup than hummus.

I grabbed some cashews and threw them in the blender with a clove of garlic and 1/4 tsp curry powder.

I have no real clue as to the proportions. I think it was about 3:1 chickpeas to cashews.

Anyway, I will be making this mistake again on purpose, because the result was delicious. Super nutty, a little sweet, and very garlicky and spicy.

I made some wraps on orphan tortillas from the last time I had soft tacos. I spread the hummus on lacinato kale leaves laying on the tortillas, rolled them up, cut into thirds (to fit in Mr. Bento), and skewered with toothpicks.

The rest, I just slathered on fresh raw local lacinato kale leaves, rib and all. Nom nom nom.

I had dinner with my friend TJ last night. We talked a lot about the body and being present in it. I just realized that something I said in our conversation has some pretty big implications for my relationship with food and eating.

Background info point 1: The association of feeling empty and/or hungry with feeling clean and good is a disturbing vestigial emotional/thought process that lingers long after the eating disorder diagnosis is lifted.

Background info point 2: Until fairly recently I had formidable anxiety about being mindful of and fully present in my body.

What I said last night: As I settle into my body more and more and pay attention to the subtle feelings within, I’m learning that some foods just feel clean and good inside, while others make me feel kind of gross and grimy.

What I just realized this means: Clean/good food-related sensations do not require emptiness and hunger. They just require paying attention. A door has appeared, allowing escape from a bad habit.

What we ate: Salad of field greens, red onion, red bell pepper, tons of avocado, Parmigiano-Reggiano, tomato so ripe it almost looked like a bruise, and toasted walnuts. I made a simple red wine vinaigrette. On the side we had some chips and tomatillo salsa, and a bit of my new creation: Fire Salad.

Fire Salad is so named because it includes only fire-colored ingredients. And because I think it is funny to put “fire” in the name of a raw dish.

Fire Salad
Put the following into a large bowl:

• 1 sweet potato, raw, unpeeled, well-scrubbed, grated
• 1 beet, raw, unpeeled, well-scrubbed, grated
• 3 carrots, raw, unpeeled, well-scrubbed, grated
• pint of grape tomatoes, halved

Add to taste:

• salt
• pepper
• lemon juice
• 1 clove garlic, peeled, minced

Mix well.

It is better after it sits in the fridge for a few hours at least. The salt extracts some of the vegetables’ water, which blends with the simple seasonings to create a light dressing. The acids in the lemon juice work gently on the structure of the vegetable flesh, slightly softening its texture and taste.

Until I ate Fire Salad, I did not know that something could taste like earth and water and light.

I sing the praises of chickpeas. How I love them.

Tonight was a simple dinner that doesn’t qualify as a mush, but feels much the same. It goes together easily in one pot, feels comforting to eat out of a bowl, and makes lots of servings.

I pre-soak beans of all sorts, drain them, and then freeze them in bags. Then I can pop them out of the freezer, bring them to a boil on the stovetop, and them pop them into the over @ 250°F for 40 minutes or so. This isn’t actually quick, but it requires next to no effort. And I’m now spoiled on home cooked beans and canned ones don’t seem as good.

Drain the chickpeas.
Into the now empty chickpea pot, put olive oil.
Heat oil and then add chopped onion and garlic, sauteeing until softened and starting to become translucent.
Dump in .5 lb of frozen okra. Cook until it mostly thaws out.
Add the chickpeas and a big can of diced tomatoes.
Bring to a simmer.
Crumble in a generous amount of feta.
Eat.

This is a terrible photo that I continue to intend to replace. Alas.

I created this recipe after having the black bean and pepper cheese soup at Bridgetown Grill. Mine’s not as spicy, though you can add as many jalapenos as you like to up the spiciness. We generally eat this with a loaf of crusty bread from the farmer’s market, and a green salad.

• 2 medium onions, chopped
• 6 cloves garlic, peeled & coarsely chopped
• 1 jalapeno pepper, seeded & finely diced
• 2 15 oz cans black beans
• 2 15 oz cans great northern beans
• 1 15 oz can sweet golden corn
• 1 can vegetable broth
• 2 cups sharp cheddar cheese, grated
• green onion, chopped for garnish

• In a large heavy bottomed soup pot, sauté the onions, garlic, and jalapeño in a bit of vegetable oil until very soft.
• Purée the cooked mixture in a blender with some of the veggie broth added in to facilitate blending. Return puréed mixture to soup pot.
• Purée each can of beans and corn one at a time. Do not drain the beans and corn. Add veggie broth to the blender if extra liquid is needed. Add the puréed beans and corn to the soup pot.
• Heat the soup through. When the soup is hot stir in the cheese. Stir until the cheese is melted and blended in with the soup.
• Garnish individual bowls of soup with chopped green onions.
• To make this soup extra snazzy for entertaining, heat the black bean purée separately while preparing the rest of the soup as above. You’ll have a “black” mixture and a “white” mixture. Fill each serving bowl 2/3 full with the white mixture. Carefully spoon several spoonfuls of the black mixture into the center of each bowl. You’ll fill the bowl while creating a black spot in the center of the bowl. Garnish with green onions.

This is one of my ultimate comfort foods. This recipe is for one serving. Make as many servings as you want at once in the same pot.

• 1 package ramen noodles (discard the “flavor pouch”)
• 2 cups water
• 1 tablespoon tamari (could also use soy sauce)
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 2 tablespoons (rounded or heaping) brown miso (soy or rice miso is fine as long as it’s brown. I just don’t think the white kind tastes as good.)
• 2 tablespoons nutritional yeast

• Put the water in a pot. Add the tamari and minced garlic. Bring to a boil.
• Put the ramen noodles in the water. Boil for 3 minutes. Remove pot from heat.
• Put miso in the bottom of a small bowl. Ladle some of the hot liquid from the pot into the bowl. Mush the miso and water together until it makes a thinnish-sludge. Add this back to the pot.
• Add the nutritional yeast to the pot. Stir together well.
• Serve in a big homey bowl and enjoy. Pick the noodles out with a fork and slurp the broth from the side of the bowl. Yummm…