Hazelnut Flourless Cake

Posted on July 2, 2014

My love affair with bean-baking continues, but this one was born of a mistake. It all began when I went to make hazelnut butter in the Vita-Mix last night. It turns peanuts into peanut butter in a matter of seconds, so this had to work like a charm, right? Wrong. A cup of aromatic hazelnuts were turned into little more than went sand after more than a minute of grinding. It looked hopeless. Chef Bill suggested that I add a bit of oil for viscosity. I considered it briefly then put the grainy mixture aside for the night.

Ingredients for a chickpea-based dessert were already assembled. The original plan to bake an almond cake segued into a foray into my first flourless and sugarfree hazelnut dessert. It may not sound exciting, but a long ago decided it was in my best interest to curb the sugar and flour – even gluten-free flour. My usage of it had gotten out of hand and a few pounds had crept back on when I wasn’t looking (the nerve of those pounds!). The past 15 months of baking sugarfree have taught me something valuable: If flavor is not to be extracted from a small mountain of white sugar, then extract it from something else, such as almonds or hazelnuts, unsweetened coconut, and generous splashes of vanilla.

The latest cake to be added to my flourless, bean-based repertoire is the perfect example. It looks bland and boring, but its flavors are both rich and subtle…that’s the power of the spectacular hazelnut, I suppose. A few pieces of this went on the road with me today for moments in which I either experienced hunger or watched others downing sweet desserts. Is it the same as having an apple fritter from the donut stand? Of course not. But eating apple fritters on a regular basis simply isn’t good for my relationship with size 8 jeans. And that’s one thing that’s worth keeping on an even keel.

Hazelnut Flourless Cake

1 can garbanzo beans, drained

1 cup ground hazelnuts (get them as sandy as possible, they shouldn’t look like chopped nuts)

3 eggs, room temperature if possible

1/4 cup sunflower or light olive oil

1 tablespoon vanilla

30 drops of stevia or 1/2 cup coconut palm sugar or coconut palm nectar

1/4 teaspoon salt

Almond or coconut milk, for thinning the batter

Coconut oil for greasing the pan

In a food processor, blend the garbanzo beans until a chunky paste. Add 1 egg and continue blending until smooth. Add ground hazelnuts and the two remaining eggs and blend for 30 seconds. Scrape sides and add the oil, vanilla, salt and sweetener, blending until smooth. If the batter is too thick, add almond or coconut milk until it becomes the consistency of pourable cake batter.

Preheat oven to 350. Put two tablespoons of coconut oil into a round cake pan and grease liberally. Pour batter into pan and bake at 350 for 20 minutes. Turn heat back to 330 and bake another 10 minutes. Turn off oven and let cake sit for another 10 minutes. Serve warm if desired.

Nutella-esque in flavor, minus the crapola

Nutella-esque in flavor, minus the crapola

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Planning Makes Perfect (Sense)

Posted on June 25, 2014

As I often do when in possession of luscious avocados at their perfect peak of ripeness, I refer to two of my favorite dessert recipes from Clean Comfort. You’d think someone who eats avocados daily would be a major guac fan. Not me. 80% of the time, I alchemize the creamy, rich greenness into a pudding or mousse. On the remaining 20% of the occasions, I simply slice them into wedges, sprinkle with sea salt, and dive in!

As even a casual avocado-lover knows, timing is crucial. When ripeness has arrived, you can’t wait a day or two (as is possible with say, apples or oranges). I’ve learned the hard way that deferring with ripe avocados often ends in spoiled, unusable waste. It was apparent from their darkening skin color and slight give to the touch that the two avocados on the shelf were letting me know it was showtime. I’d bought them five days prior when they were florescent green and rock hard. Now, they seemed to be screaming a quiet but unmistakable telepathic message my way: “Take us, we’re perfect!” It was tempting to wait another day; the evening hour was nigh, I was weary, and had a half-finished to-do list hanging over my conscience. But my love of Pistachio Avocado Pudding and Chocolate Avocado Mousse won out in the end. Using my trusty food processor, I whipped up a batch of each and stored it in the refrigerator to be enjoyed over the next few days. Surprisingly, avocado pudding keeps well in the refrigerator for a few days. There may be a bit of oxidization of the top layer, but don’t let the off color alarm you, it’ll taste fine.

I weave you this culinary tale as yet another illustration of what it takes to eat clean. No major drama, but certainly, an investment of time and energy. I explained to a coaching client yesterday, it’s imperative I have treats, snacks, and other food options at the ready for when I need them. I can’t just run out to the store and buy a tub of Avocado Pistachio Pudding. And maybe that’s a good thing. Food made at home is hands-down healthier, more whole, and less expensive. Maybe there’ll come a day when lentil-based chocolate cakes are dispensed as easily as Little Debbie’s, and even then, I probably won’t make it a regular option. Long ago I accepted that eating clean, attuning myself to my feelings so I won’t have to use food as an escape, and making DDPYOGA a regular part of my life is just plain gonna take more time out of my life. But oh what a fair trade it is: I’m down 180 pounds, have infinitely more energy, and possess the gift of physical and emotional freedom. The puddings below took less than 30 minutes to concoct. Not a shabby deal, eh?

Creamy, dreamy, and completely nutritious Pistachio Pudding from "Clean Comfort" www.staceymorriscleancomfort.com

Creamy, dreamy, and completely nutritious Pistachio Pudding from “Clean Comfort” www.staceymorriscleancomfort.com

Chocolate Avocado Mousse, about to be sealed away in Tupperware for a future treat

Chocolate Avocado Mousse, about to be sealed away in Tupperware for a future treat

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The Sweet Memories of Strawberry Shortcake

Posted on June 24, 2014

I get a little wistful when June rolls around because it’s a month that marks both my dad’s birthday and Father’s Day. It’s during the sixth month of the year that I remember my father more than I usually do: the outdoor birthday parties we’d have on my parents’ deck, the way he wore Naval binoculars slung around his neck while watching sailboats race on Lake George, and the fact that, like the rest of the world, he wasn’t all that into chocolate cake. But dad was wild about strawberry shortcake. Like a lot of Americans with roots in the south, biscuits were a cherished carb of choice. And who doesn’t adore whipped cream? The strawberries in our region are usually reaching a juicy, red crescendo as his birthday arrives, so it must have been a confluence of coincidence and logic that cemented this as his all-time favorite dessert.

When I went gluten and cow-dairy-free five years ago, I unconsciously sequestered Strawberry Shortcake to the underground recesses of my memory. No point in dwelling on it since two of the three ingredients involve white flour and heavy cream. Since writing a cookbook on clean eating, I’ve become much more creative in my endeavors to enjoy comfort food while remaining clean. A few weeks ago I realized I could indeed eat Strawberry Shortcake again. The procedure would be the same as with any other recipe I’ve made over: tastes and textures are mimicked and approximated, ingredients are swapped, and because I want to maintain a 180-pound weight loss more than I want the taste of X,Y, or Z, I agree to eat something that is hardly an exact replica of the original, but is close enough. If that’s my cross to bear in life, I got off easy.

The biscuits in this recipe are made from garbanzo beans; the whipped cream from coconut milk; the strawberries are the real and original deal. No need to alter anything there. And why would I? They’re ruby-red, sweet, and straight off the fields at Buhrmaster Farms on Route 50 in Scotia.

Sure, I could make a pan of biscuits out of gluten-free flour. I’m simply determined to squeeze as much nutrition out of food as I can. And beans have a lower glycemic index than flour, they’re ounce-for-ounce less expensive than flour, and lentils are a fiber magnet so there’s no contest for me.

My Dad: On the deck where we had his birthday parties.

My Dad: On the deck where we had his birthday parties.

For the first time ever, I was able to remember my dad through his favorite dessert on Father’s Day. It was delicious. It brought back sweet memories of him. And if he were here, he’d be elated that I invented such a nourishing version of his favorite dessert.

Clean Strawberry Shortcake

Serves four

2-3 cups fresh strawberries, washed and hulled

For the biscuits:

1 can Garbanzo beans, drained

2 eggs, room temperature

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon vanilla

1/4 cup sugar or 20 drops of Stevia

2 tablespoons coconut oil

1/3 cup shredded unsweetened coconut

Almond milk or coconut milk as needed for thinning

For whipped cream:

1 can coconut milk, chilled in the refrigerator several hours or overnight

Instructions:

With a fork or potato masher, mascerate the strawberries until they’re chunky and a little liquidy. Set aside

Preheat oven to 350

Combine all biscuit ingredients in a food processor or Vita-Mix and blend until smooth. The consistency should be slightly thinner than cake batter, so add almond milk if needed. Spray a square brownie pan with cooking spray and pour batter into pan. Bake 25 minutes and do a toothpick test in the center. If it comes out clean, remove from oven. Otherwise bake another five to 10 minutes.

While biscuits are cooling, open coconut milk. The fat will have risen to the top. Scoop it out into a small mixing bowl and set water aside. Whip with an electric beater until fluffy (about 2 minutes). Cut biscuits into squares and top with strawberries and cream.

Bon Appetit!

Pure Delight - No Damage!

Pure Delight – No Damage!

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The Head and The Stomach: The Inexorable Connection

Posted on June 5, 2014

File this under further explanation of How I Did It:

I’m still sticking by my original story: I dropped 180 pounds without dieting. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t have a plan of some sort. I just chose to keep mine loose and non-rigid because my personality type dislikes too much rigidity. I need boundaries and structure, they’re essential to progress, but too many absolutes and too few personal choices infringe on my dignity, and assume that I have no personal power or intelligence where food is concerned. I once believed, vis-a-vis certain self-help philosophies that I was powerless, utterly impotent where eating was concerned, and that food was a towering, fire-breathing, roaring version of Godzilla that would level me with a single swag of its tail.

In time and with patience (read: lotsa trial and error) I learned I DO have the final say. Which lead me to the magical discovery of the importance of portion control. Boy, I’d resisted this one tooth and nail! NO one was gonna tell me how much to eat, NO ONE! For decades I’d not only bristle, I’d become enraged at the idea of eating till I was satisfied but not stuffed. It’s also important to note that I was in emotional crisis: toxic job, unhappy relationship, imprisoned by 180 lbs. of extra fat. I’d gotten myself into quite the mess and the food was actually NEEDED for me to survive and get through where I was at the time. That’s just where I was in 1995 from an evolutionary standpoint.

The '90s...Stuffed in more ways than one....

The ’90s…Stuffed in more ways than one….

Intellectually I knew food wasn’t the answer, but I was in too deep to simply “Just Say No” to the Little Debbie’s or the Cheetos. This next part is vitally important to nail, or else you’re probably going to continue to fix your problem with a food plan or calorie counting: Start working on what you CAN fix. If every fiber of you wants to comfort yourself with food, let it be. I’m telling you from experience that’s too big a monster to tame in quickie women’s-magazine-fashion. You’d have better luck getting Godzilla to heel using a poodle’s leash. Work instead on your innards: How are you speaking to yourself? Are you kind and patient, or are you vicious and demanding? What’s getting under your skin…or who? Is there anyone you need to stand up to or set a limit with? That’s scary stuff…and it sent me running to the chip aisle of the nearest supermarket or gas station. Are there people you’re lashing out at or mistreating because of your own state of unhappiness? It may be time to face it and own up to behavior that is harming others, and ultimately, yourself.

These were all things I tackled, one at a time, with courage (because a lot of the time I was shaking with fear as I took the leap), and always with support. You have support here, on the wonderful Team DDPYOGA, and hopefully in your immediate circle of friends and family. I tackled them because 1) They needed my attention and could no longer be ignored and 2) I wasn’t ready to tackle my relationship with food. I didn’t have the inner strength. That took time and practice. And when I’d built up enough, then and only then could I think about eating till I was satisfied but not stuffed. No more lying down after a meal (or a binge) to ease the burden on my distended stomach. I’d eased my emotional and psychological burdens sufficiently to no longer need food as an urgent anesthesia.

Emotional distress comes and goes now. I deal with it as it arises and it’s kind of like drop kicking a tiny gargoyle out of the house. Tiny gargoyle’s are SO much easier to boot out of one’s life than Godzilla 😉

And on those occasions, like this past Sunday, when a bountiful plate of food is put in front of me, I’m able, without a lot of hemming and hawing, to do the following:

Eat a little more than half of a gorgeous, delicious, three-egg omelet stuffed with sausage, caramelized onions, and melted Manchego. The rest went into a storage container until today when I enjoyed it once again for lunch.

The Omelet is Overstuffed...Not I

The Omelet is Overstuffed…Not I

I didn’t continue to eat past full, which meant no probability of fat storage, which also meant I had a free pass of a no-cook meal for later in the week. If that’s not a win-win, what is?

There's always Hope...

There’s always Hope…

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