Tag Archives: food

Blueberry Memories

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I grew up on the coast of Maine in a sleepy little fishing village half way up the coast. My parent’s property looked over St John’s Bay, tucked down through the woods at the end of a dirt driveway. Behind our house were more blackberry and raspberry bushes than we could count. On lazy summer days I would wrap myself in blankets and make my way through the tangled berry thorns to the center on the patch where I would lay my blankets out and soak in the sunshine. It was my little slice of heaven, tucked away among the bramble.

At the height of summer, I would abandon my sanctuary and venture to the very edge of the front yard where the grass met the rocky Maine coastline. It was there the sweetest of all the berries grew. Tiny berries no bigger than the round end of a thumb tack, peeked through think, low lying bushes. If you blinked, you would miss them, Maine blueberries.

Further down east (north and to the east for those from away) there were miles of fields of these tiny berries where workers with rakes that resembled hair picks would spend their days raking in these sweet treats. For 14 years, Maine blueberries were all I knew. I didn’t know until I went away to boarding school that blueberries the size of my thumbnail existed. Yes, I lived in a shelter little bubble. Heck, I didn’t even know white eggs were an actual thing until I was 21, but that’s a story for another time.

Despite this new and mind blowing discovery, I remained loyal to my tiny little Maine blueberries until I was well into my 30s…right about the time we moved to New Hampshire. Now I find myself visiting the coast of Maine less and less. Instead, I find myself staying closer to home, creating new memories separate from those cherished childhood ones I’ve held so close for so long.

It is here, in New Hampshire, that children are forming memories of gigantic blueberries where only 10 fit in your hand at once. With a local blueberry field practically in our backyard, we’ve been creating moments at sunset as we pick these sweet treats to bring home for pies, jellies, and snacks.

They say home is where you hang your hat, but in summer, I would argue that home is where you pick your blueberries.

French Fucking Fries For The Win!

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Oh, french fries. Delicious little fried potato slices dripping with grease and covered in salt. So bad for you, but SO yummy! Now a days we can zip through the drive through when we crave them, or we can buy them in the freezer isle at the grocery store to bring home and pop into the Fry Daddy. They are everywhere and that makes us, as a society, very happy. So what do we do when we want to get healthy, but we still want our fry fix? We make “fries” out of everything! EVERYTHING! *evil laugh and cackle*

In my quest to get healthy I have learned to make a lot of things out of other things that don’t usually make those things. Are you following me? For example, my vegan alfredo from last week, I made cauliflower into a cream sauce. Boom! Just like that! I’m a mother fucking magician, yo! Now that the kids were happy with creaminess on their pasta, I decided to make myself happy with french fries. We had done the sweet potato fries already, yawn, but who hasn’t? Yay, you can bake sweet potatoes and make them into fries, whoop-dee-doo! *eye roll* I wanted to find something…well…different. AH ha! I’ve got it!

I’ve been buying carrots like crazy from the local farm stand. Not to eat the carrots, but to use the carrot tops. I will get into that in a later blog because pesto. That’s all I’ll say about that. So what have I been doing with the actual carrots? Not much. Half of them have been eaten raw, a quarter into homemade vegetable stock, and the final quarter into the trash. *ducks to avoid flying objects* To keep this weeks carrots from going into the trash, I decided to make them into french fries. Once again I sifted through my one and only vegan cookbook, nothing. Then I looked online, meh. Then I used what little part of my brain is left after raising children. Get ready for some carroty goodness!

Ingredients:

Carrots (duh), about one pound cut into thin strips. You know, french fry size.

Extra virgin olive oil, or EVOO in the cooking world (totes posh), about 2 TBS

1/4 almond flour

Salt to taste

How to get ‘r’ done:

Fire up your oven to 450 degrees. While it’s warming up, toss your carrots in the olive oil to coat them. I use my hands in a bowl because I’m a heathen, but you can toss them whatever way blows your dress up. Once the carrots sticks are coated with oil, throw in the almond flour and toss them some more. By now your fingers should be coated a little less than the carrots. Cover a baking sheet with parchment paper, and lay the carrots sticks all over it. Sprinkle with salt, and pop those suckers into the oven for about 12 minutes, or until crispy. When they are done, start feeding them to the masses while still hot! French fucking fries for the win!

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I don’t like cooked carrots, neither do my kids, but these were a hit! They were crisp on the outside, and soft on the inside. Just like a french fry should be. Not to mention the added flavor the almond flour brought to the table. They even re-heated nicely the next day when I brought them to work for lunch. I’m totally winning at this cooking thing! *does the running man* So, if you’re wondering what to have for dinner tonight, go to your local farm stand, farmer’s market, or grocery store and get some carrots! Your bellies will thank you. I’ll just say, “You’re welcome.”

And A Bottle Saying “Drink Me” In The Other

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I have somehow found myself falling deep into the rabbit hole of the Paleo world. I know, I know, welcome to the club, mother fucker. When I first started on this little journey, I wasn’t quite prepared for what was in store for me. There’s so much preparation and attention to detail that goes into strange and bizarre ingredients. Give me some chicken, bread crumbs, bacon, and spinach and I’ll whip up something tasty for you. Now I’m faced with things like fennel, miso paste, and more almond products than I ever thought possible. If you’re allergic to nuts, run the fuck away from anything Paleo because you’ll probably die. I’m serious, the Paleo world is pure nuts. Along with this venture because I’m a gluten for punishment I decided to get a lot of my recipes from vegan cookbooks. I figured if Paleo means no dairy or wheat, than vegan should go along nicely.

For some reason my kids have decided they want to jump down this rabbit hole with me. So here we all are, in Wonderland, wondering what exactly the caterpillar is trying to tell us as we hold up a bit of mushroom in one hand, and a bottle saying “drink me” in the other. Because I was a little worried what the other playground moms would think hesitant to let my kids do the whole Paleo thing, I started them off slow. I first doubled their fruit and vegetable intake, my daughter now clogs the toilet at least once a week, and then I added almond milk. The small boy now pours himself glasses of almond milk, just because. I really tried to keep the recipes as close to what they were used to as possible. Grilled chicken and veggies, steak and veggies…protein and veggies… protein… protein… veggie… veggie… veggie. Fruit, fruit, FRUIT! No more wheat, no more dairy (which didn’t last long because well…cheese.) But for the most part, we were pretty much kicking ass and taking names while we shit up a storm!!!

The other night I decided to take off the kid gloves and pack a Paleo punch at dinner time! I had a two pound head of cauliflower sitting in my fridge for one purpose, and one purpose alone…to make vegan mac and cheese After staring at the cauliflower for a few days while debating on packing the punch, I decided to go for it. I was going to make the vegan mac and cheese! My mother had made it for my father (Mr. Steak and Beer) once, and he liked it or he lied to my mother to make her feel better. So I figured, if my father would eat it, I could get my kids as well. The only problem? I didn’t have my mother’s recipe. Dumb ass. So I flipped through my vegan cookbook. I didn’t have all the ingredients. Then I Googled it. I still didn’t have all the ingredients. Time for plan C, wing it and hope the kids don’t rebel.

Anyone who has ever even attempted to so much as “try” vegan cooking knows that “winging it” is not something you necessarily do when first starting out. Unless you’re one of those reality TV cooking competition people. Fuck those people. When you’re trying to re-create something using ingredients that have nothing to do with the “real thing” it can get a bit hairy. However, I live for hairy. Unless it’s on my body, that shit can go. Regardless, I poured myself a glass of wine and ventured further into Wonderland. Let me just say, although this recipe came out more like an “Alfredo” as apposed to a “mac and cheese”, I KILLED IT!!! Mommy made a delicious vegan recipe the kids INHALED!!! *chest bump**pours another glass of wine* *maybe two or three* After posting it all over social media as I tend to do people wanted to know how it turned out, and to share the recipe. So here goes nothing, peeps! Bon appetit!

Ingredients:

1 pound fresh cauliflower florets. Not frozen, don’t be a slacker.

1 cup original almond milk

2 cloves fresh garlic

Salt and pepper to taste

1 handful (1/4 cup) raw cashews. Maybe throw in a few more just because…nuts. You might want to whip out your good ol’ slap chop and bust your nuts before adding them into the recipe. I did. *wink wink*

Cut a lemon in half, and SQUEEZE all the juice out.

What to do:

Boil the florets until they are tender, not soft, tender. Drain the water out, and dump them into your blender or food processor. Add the rest of the ingredients, and hit “liquefy”. Don’t have a liquefy option? Puree that bitch until she’s nice and smoooooth. Once you’ve added enough salt and pepper maybe even more garlic and the texture is to your liking, slather your noodles in the creamy goodness you just created. Toss them around a bit, scoop into bowls, and feed that hungry family of yours!

I highly recommend NOT calling this mac and cheese. If you do, your family may rebel, tie you up, and throw you in the river. I mean, do what you want to do, but you really should call this Alfredo. Welcome to Wonderland.

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