Chocolate collard green pie

My next post is taking longer to write than I anticipated, so in the interim, here is something to read:

Chef Harry Eastwood has created Red Velvet and Chocolate Heartache, a book of baking recipes that hide vegetables in cakes, pies and cookies and apparently taste great. This article in the The Globe and Mail is a tad misleading, suggesting that Eastwood's recipes are healthy because they replace butter and sugar for veggies. While there are lots of specific starchy vegetables (not a kale cake in sight, I'm sure) in each recipe, they are also loaded with nuts to replace the butter, and they still contain sugar. Perhaps readers, sensing that "Muscavado" sugar must be exotic and therefore healthier than the plain old, are the same people who also think "evaporated cane juice" is somehow not sugar either. Regardless, almond flour baked goods are always a treat, so it's nice to have a new recipe.

O Mighty Taco, Harbinger of spring!

I’m home from my vacation. Toronto has greeted me with below-zero temperatures and a light dusting of snow. Charming. I’ve been miserable all day and wishing I could be back in vacationland, a.k.a. Scottsdale, AZ, to soak up more sunshine and smell the glorious, jasmine scented air. I’m sure I’ve been a delight to be around since I’ve returned. Poor B, excited to see me, has been heroic while I regale him with remarks of how great Arizona is and how much I hate being back in the Great White North (except for seeing him, I reassure).

It’s amazing how much weather influences how and what we eat. While in Arizona, I craved the tastes of the southwest: corn, refried beans and jalapeños. I bought bunches of cilantro put it on everything. I devoured the grapefruits I could pick off the neighbourhood trees. But mostly, I wanted fish tacos. I both made my own, and sought them on the menu at restaurants. I think I ate one a day.

Here in Canada, we are generally deprived of quality Mexican cuisine. Until a few years ago, my understanding of tacos was that they were those hard shell disasters filled with greasy ground beef, soggy iceberg lettuce and pale tomatoes that would fall apart at first bite. Having gotten the stomach flu after one taco night when I was 10 aided to cement my belief that Mexican food was for people who also liked Cheez Whiz, balogna and ranch dressing. In other words, it was for people who were unaware that it was possible to eat something better.

A couple of years ago, while visiting relatives in Chicago, my cousins took us to their local taqueria. I was delighted to discover that I could purchase a taco in a soft, handmade corn tortilla filled with meats such as pulled pork and roast chicken, and even spicy white fish. These tacos stayed intact while I ate them. They tasted fantastic. I was hooked.

In Toronto, we don’t have 10 varieties of soft corn tortillas in every supermarket. (In Chicago, they sell fresh soft tortilla shells in pharmacies and convenience stores!) Last summer, after another taco-filled Chicago visit, I bought a tortilla press and some masa harina to make my own. This is surprisingly simple to do so long as you have the proper equipment (make sure to line the tortilla press with plastic wrap). I think I will make some this weekend, filled with the leftover chicken I am roasting this afternoon. I’ll pick up some jalapeños and cilantro on my walk. Perhaps I can entice spring to arrive a little early.

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Incidentally, for those who despise the taste of cilantro (also called coriander), the perfect omnivore directive applies to training oneself to enjoy this strong and fragrant herb. I don’t know of anything that tastes more green, but it is surely an acquired taste. I urge you to commit yourself to learning to love this distinctive herb. (Remember, it only takes 8-10 tries.) Once you do, you will be glad as there is nothing that tastes like it. It belongs in Mexican salsas as well as east Indian curries and big bowls of Vietnamese pho.

Whey more to eat

Aren't these pickles beautiful? I packed them yesterday and am patiently waiting for them to ferment so I can have a taste. They are pickled with salt, water and whey extracted from the yoghurt I have been making, a pickling process called lacto-fermentation. Right now, the jar is sitting at room temperature in a kitchen cupboard, pickling away. I get to taste them tomorrow evening.

I got my recipes for pickling from a cookbook called Nourishing Traditions. It's a political cookbook, designed to “challenge politically correct nutrition and the diet dictocrats.” The author, Sally Fallon, argues in favour of a diet high in animal fats, gelatin-rich broths, raw meat and lacto-fermented foods such as pickles and yoghurts to support good health. She explains herself in just under 700 pages, providing not just recipes but loads of references and justification for her version of the ideal diet. Regardless of whether or not she's right, I'm grateful to have found a philosophy of eating that is based on how my ancestors ate. It tastes right.

I have been enjoying eating two other foods lately:

1. Yoghurt cheese
I have been making yoghurt for several months now with my yoghurt maker, a very simple process that yields fabulous fresh yoghurt with no added thickeners or gelatins. Yoghurt cheese (or Greek yoghurt, or labaneh) is simply strained plain yoghurt. I put 500mL of plain yoghurt into a sieve lined with paper towels and let it stand over a bowl on the counter for several hours. The liquid that drips out of the yoghurt is whey, which is high in lactic acid and bacterial cultures and can be used for pickling, so keep it if you're interested (you can also drink it: it's very nutritious). The resulting yoghurt cheese will be thick like cream cheese and can be spread on bread, muffins and pancakes, added to dips and dressings or enjoyed on its own with honey (this is how the Greeks eat it). Two cups of yoghurt strained yields one cup of yoghurt cheese.

2. Chick pea soup
I've been making this recipe weekly for over a month and we don't get tired of it. It's filling and hearty: just the soup for cold fall days. Use vegetable stock or bouillon cubes if you prefer to chicken stock. The resulting soup will lack the animal protein but will be just as tasty.

CHICK PEA AND TOMATO SOUP
Serves 4

1 Tbsp olive oil
1 large garlic clove, peeled and smashed
1 28-oz can chick peas, drained and rinsed
1/2 28-oz can whole tomatoes
1 L chicken stock
1/2 tsp each dried rosemary and thyme
1/4 c extra virgin olive oil
1/4 c chopped fresh parsley
salt and pepper to taste

In a large pot over medium heat, warm the oil and add the garlic. When the garlic starts to sizzle, add the chick peas, tomatoes, stock and herbs. Turn the heat to high and bring to a boil then simmer, lid on, for 20 minutes.

Remove from the heat and add the oil and parsley and season with salt and pepper.

Fake baked beans

I have already admitted my love affair with beans. When it comes to baked beans, however, I am particularly nostalgic.

I have two childhood memories of baked beans. My mother used to make the real deal, the true baked beans soaked overnight and then slow cooked in the oven all day. She would use the same white Corning casserole dish for the beans that would scorch on the rim as the liquid reduced in the oven. The smoky sweet smell of bacon and maple syrup would fill the house all afternoon, and I would wait in anticipation for dinnertime. Back then, I was impressed by foods that were the result of hours of preparation. To my young mind, the caché of baked beans was only surpassed by pierogies, made from scratch only by my grandmother on her indulgent yet infrequent visits.

My second memory of baked beans is of the canned variety, which I also adored. This instant version, accompanied by steamed weiners and buttered toast, was often served for lunch at my then best friend's house by her English nanny. These lunches, along with others such as Kraft Dinner, Alphaghetti and instant chicken noodle soup, were my interpretation of high class food. Somehow I was aware and impressed by the expense of purchasing prepared food at a higher price. Strange though how at age eight, fine dining to me was either the result of hours of preparation or none at all.

And so, my beans. Until recently, I have satisfied my baked bean cravings by cracking a can of Heinz: Cravings are rarely met by cooking food that requires 24 hours of preparation. I have now created a recipe for fake baked beans, cooked on the stove in 20 minutes rather than in the oven for 8 hours. They taste better than canned, though probably not as good as the real thing. Slow cooked food, no matter how hard I try, can never be replaced.

FAKE BAKED BEANS
Serves 3-4

1 Tbsp oil
1 small onion, diced
1 19-oz can navy beans, drained and rinsed
1 cup water
1 Tbsp blackstrap molasses
1 Tbsp tomato paste
1 tsp Dijon mustard
Salt and pepper to taste
1 Tbsp pure maple syrup (optional)

In a medium-sized pot over medium heat, cook the onion in the oil until soft and translucent. Add the beans, water, molasses, tomato paste and mustard. Bring to a boil and stir until all ingredients are incorporated. Reduce heat and simmer 15-20 minutes with the lid off until the liquid has reduced by half. Season with salt and pepper. If using, stir in maple syrup.

NOTE: If you want to add bacon, dice two strips and fry in the oil before adding the onion. Continue with the rest of the recipe as described above.

Photo: Fake baked beans.

Fast food for one right now

As much as I love to cook, most of the time I don't have the energy to create new culinary masterpieces: I just want to fill my belly. As I invariably get swept away in whatever I'm up to in my life, my meal planning skills lie dormant somewhere, forgotten, unused. I inevitably find myself in the kitchen, shaking with hunger, realizing I've already eaten all the leftover Indian takeout and having to make something or starve. I haven't done the grocery shopping yet, so all that's left in the fridge are a few pieces of whatever vegetable I've committed myself to that week and my essentials.

Ah, the essentials. Every cookbook that considers itself a tome devotes a chapter to staple items no kitchen should ever be without. I recently purchased Alice Water's The Art of Simple Food to judge her take on the subject. Her list is quite extensive, divided into two categories (pantry staples and perishable staples). Clearly her list is to serve cooking in general rather than simply fast food. And, apparently she doesn't own a freezer, or doesn't condone using one, because freezer staples are absent from her list. Still, her direction is simple: “If your pantry and refrigerator are stocked with these ingredients, you can be secure in the knowledge that no matter what time it is, and no matter who shows up hungry on your doorstep, there will always be something to eat.” Here, here.

When it comes to fast food there are mitigating factors. One cannot wait for rice to cook, let alone overnight to soak beans, or several hours to defrost a whole pack of chicken breasts when you only want one. Sometimes, I can't bear waiting the 45 minutes it takes for the Indian food to arrive.

And so, here are my essential items, listed in no particular order. With these things, I have the keys to the kingdom, as the saying goes.

1. Tuna packed in olive oil, single serving size. This, to my mind, is the miracle food. Pop open the can (no can opener required), squeeze with lemon juice, and eat with a fork. It's the perfect protein to add to bean salads, toss with cooked pasta, mixed with egg and leftover cooked potato and fried into fish cakes. I find it in most supermarkets, usually up high or down low on the shelves. Look for Rio Mare in the salmon pink tins or Callipo in bright red. They're both made in Italy.
   
   
2. Canned beans. Soup or salad, done in ten minutes. Hearty and filling. Beans are peasant food for a reason. They are cheap and sustaining. As for the purists out there that think that beans cooked from soaked dried are better than canned, I have this to say: They taste different, not necessarily better, and when you're hungry, who cares? Search for the canned varieties and brands that you like for their texture, taste and price, and buy them in bulk.
   
   
3. Frozen single servings of meat. If you really want to conquer fast food, buy selection of resealable bags in various sizes and freeze everything in single servings. When you bring home meat from the market, take a few minutes to divide some or all into single portions. Even if you're cooking for more than just yourself, you'll appreciate the time it takes to defrost several individually-bagged chicken breasts by throwing them in a sink full of warm water for 15 minutes, versus the alternative: waging war with the defrost setting on your microwave, then prying apart half-frozen, half-cooked meat from the butcher tray. Buy a variety so you always have selection: chicken breasts, boneless chicken thighs, sausages, fish filets, chicken livers, even bacon. I began to use bacon so much more when I froze it in two strip packages. It adds instant flavour to any fast-food dish.
   
   
4. Frozen peas. This can really mean frozen vegetables, but I like peas the best. It is a myth that frozen vegetables are less nutritious than fresh, as vegetables from the freezer are usually processed right after harvest. Peas are sweet and cheerful, make instant soup with water and bouillon and add colour to any dish.
   
   
5. Frozen cooked brown rice. This may sound crazy, like a granny who freezes birthday cake bought on sale three months before the party, but it is such a time saver. Brown rice takes 40 minutes to cook, but its flavour and nutritional value far surpass white rice that it is worth the trouble. I have recently discovered that I can cook vast quantities of brown rice at one time and freeze it in small packages without any affect to taste or texture. I have also included my method for cooking brown rice, which is never clumpy or mushy, below.
   
   
6. Lemons. I feel incomplete and unprepared if I don't have lemons in the house. Hot water and lemon is my tonic of choice. Add the zest and juice to a chicken breast fried in butter you have a quick, flavourful favourite. Lemon is indispensable when cooking with beans or fish.
   
   
7. Flat-leaf Italian parsley. My husband and I have an ongoing disagreement that has become a joke. He argues that parsley has no flavour, whereas I think it's hugely fragrant and is my indispensible herb. The joke now goes like this. Me: Do you like your food? He: I don't know if I can taste this (insert main ingredient). It's so overwhelmed by the parsley. Ignore him. Parsley not only adds flavour, it adds colour, which is important for food to feel complete.
   
   
8. Eggs. I hope everybody knows this. Omelet or scrambled eggs is the fastest meal in the west. Take 5 minutes to heat the pan over medium-high heat, then add a nob of butter then the two beaten eggs and swish it around. In about 15 seconds, your eggs are ready. Season and serve.
   
   
9. Dried red lentils. This makes my husband's favourite soup, prepared in under 20 minutes. Bring 2 cups water to a boil in a saucepan, add 1/2 cup dried lentils and a chicken bouillon cube and simmer 15 minutes until the lentils have fallen apart. Finish with lemon juice and garlic- and/or chili-scented oil and serve.
   
   
10. Garlic- and/or chili-scented oils. Really, you don't need to worry about garlic, peeling, chopping, storing, if you finish or start your dish with garlic-scented oil. And if you feel like adding zing to your meal, sprinkle over some chili oil. Both are easy to make (see my instructions at bottom of this post) and keep on hand.
    
    
11. Chicken bouillon cubes. Find your favourite brand and keep them on hand. I like the one by McCormick in the dark green and white box. It's all-vegetable, MSG- and gluten-free, and it's tasty.
    
    
12. Butter. Salted for eating with baking and unsalted for cooking.
    
    
13. Oil and vinegar. Extra virgin olive oil for finishing and dressings, light olive oil for scented oils and sweet dressings, coconut oil for frying, white wine vinegar for full-bodied dressings and rice vinegar for sweet ones.
    
    
14. Tomato paste in a tube. This is another amazing Italian invention. Who wants even a small can of tomato paste when you only ever really use a tablespoon at a time? You can keep the tube in the fridge almost indefinitely and impart any dish with the sweetness of tomato without slopping in the real thing, canned or fresh. Again, you have to search in the tomato section, but this item is available in most supermarkets.
    
    
15. Dijon mustard. Emulsifies any dressing, making it creamy, smooth and full of flavour. Instant salad dressing: 1/4 cup oil, 1 Tbsp vinegar and a squirt of Dijon, salt and pepper. Combine ingredients in a glass jar, put on the lid, and shake.
    
    
16. Salt and pepper
    

Everyone has their own list. What's yours?


MAKING FROZEN BROWN RICE
I soak my rice for several hours before cooking because apparently it produces rice that is more nutritious and easily digested (though it's been a while since I've verified this claim). Nutrition aside, it also reduces the cooking time by half.

3 cups long grain brown rice
water

Fill a large pot with cold water and add rice. Soak the rice at least 1 hour or overnight in the fridge. Once soaked, drain and refill the pot with fresh water. Bring to a boil and then simmer for 20 minutes or until the grains are tender. Drain and rinse. Allow to cool before putting in bags and freezing.

Thanksgiving redux

My favourite holiday. We have one holiday on our calendar that is entirely devoted to worshiping food. And thank goodness, not just for nature's generous bounty but also for our wherewithal to recognize the miracle of a successful growing season.

Our meal was divine. We served turkey and the works to our immediate family plus one cousin, 11 of us in all. We ate and drank, remembered those who are no longer with us, and reminded ourselves why families matter.

The meal preparation, extending over three days, went far from smoothly, but resulted in incredible fare. At the advice of my new butchers, I followed their directions for preparing a turkey, which included brining it overnight and rubbing an herb butter between the skin and the breast meat before roasting. The addition of these extra steps increased my workload, but the effort rewarded a remarkable bird. And despite my mashed potato stuffing expanding in the oven, rupturing the neck cavity and spilling all over the bottom element, then having the turkey sit in a room temperature oven for over an hour until I realized I had turned the oven off when I cleaned up the potatoes, thus delaying our meal by about 90 minutes, the roasting process was remarkably stress-free. It was the best turkey I have ever tasted.

My mashed potato stuffing was also incredibly tasty, though next time I won't pack the cavity so tightly. I made Nigella Lawson's potato-stuffed goose last Christmas and thought that I would create a potato-stuffed turkey as well, hoping no one would miss traditional stuffing too much. The addition of the lemon zest and herbs create potatoes that are so good they could easily be enjoyed without the benefit of being roasted inside a bird.

Here was our menu:

• Healthy Butcher organic free-range roast turkey
• golden mashed potato stuffing
• gravy
• baked yam casserole with marshmallow topping
  
• brussel sprouts with nutmeg and lemon
• spinach and apple salad with an orange ginger dressing
• orange cranberry relish

A fine meal. Truth be told, I think I've finally outgrown the marshmallow yams. They are cloyingly sweet, and I found myself following my dad's example of scraping off the white fluff and leaving it on the side of my plate. However, tradition is what it is, and my sister insists the marshmallow yams are an integral part of her holiday meal.

The directions for the turkey are available on the Healthy Butcher website, a fine purveyor of organic meats raised in southern Ontario.

GOLDEN MASHED POTATO STUFFING
Serves 10

4 lbs. yellow potatoes (Yukon Gold or similar variety)
1 Tbsp butter
1 Tbsp vegetable oil
1 onion, diced
1 large rib celery, diced
2 shallots, diced
1 Tbsp each fresh parsley and sage, finely chopped
1 tsp fresh thyme, finely chopped
zest of two lemons
1 tsp ground black pepper
4 Tbsp (1/2 stick) unsalted butter

Peel and quarter potatoes and put in a large pot of salted water. Bring to a boil and simmer 15-20 minutes or until potatoes are easily pierced with a fork or knife. Drain.

While potatoes are cooking, in a skillet heat the butter and oil. Add the onion, celery and shallot and cook until translucent, about 10 minutes. Turn off the heat. Add the herbs, lemon zest and pepper.

Add the onion mixture and butter to the drained potatoes and mash with a potato masher. Stuff inside the turkey, or serve. NOTE: This stuffing will expand significantly inside the turkey, so do not pack it into the cavity. Leave room for expansion, then if there is remainder, heat in the oven in a separate casserole before serving.

Cheese biscuits on a rainy day

I’ve been making these cheese biscuits whenever I want a pick-me-up in the afternoon. I also served them for brunch a couple weekends ago with scrambled eggs and steamed greens and they were a big hit.

I have been tweaking this recipe over the last month or so since buying the Grain-free Gourmet cookbooks. Their recipe for plain biscuits is wonderful. Their cheese biscuit recipe, included in Everyday Grain-free Gourmet, is also good, but I wanted a cheese biscuit that was less sweet and with fewer ingredients. I use pecorino cheese in mine: a mild, slightly nutty sheep-milk cheese that complements the sourness of the yoghurt. Cheddar, though higher in fat, would also be good. The resulting biscuits are moist and soft and taste great on their own, with butter or jam. You can also use them like English muffins for eggs benedict (I haven't tried, but can you imagine? Yum!).

GRAIN-FREE BISCUITS WITH PECORINO AND GREEN ONION
Makes 8 biscuits

220g almond flour
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
80g shredded pecorino
2 green onions, finely chopped
2 eggs
1/2 c plain yoghurt

Preheat the oven to 160C/325F.

In a bowl, mix the almond flour, baking soda and salt. Mix in the cheese and onions. In a separate bowl, beat the eggs and yoghurt until mixed. Add the egg mixture to the dry ingredients, stirring with brisk strokes to incorporate. The batter will be thick.

Using a soup spoon, drop biscuit batter onto a parchment paper lined baking sheet forming eight equally sized biscuits. They will spread a bit in the oven, so leave about 1 inch of space between.

Bake 22-25 minutes until golden.

Have your pie filling and eat it too

I love pumpkin pie. Or rather, I love pumpkin pie filling. Since I don’t eat wheat flour, I eat my pumpkin pie with a twinge of guilt, scooping out the filling with my fork and leaving the empty pie shell behind.

I look forward to eating pumpkin pie every Thanksgiving, which will happen here in a few weeks. But, I’m getting impatient. The pumpkins are now in the store (another of my favourite orange vegetables). They beckon me.

Several weeks back, I had an idea to create a pumpkin cake with almond flour. I imagined the cake would taste like pumpkin pie filling: moist, spiced and mildly sweet.

I was inspired by a cake I make every Christmas: Nigella Lawson’s clementine cake (How to Eat), a dense flourless cake made with almond meal and egg, as well as whole clementine oranges. I thought pumpkin could easily replace the oranges, and brown sugar could replace the white sugar, add some spices, and voilà! Pie filling that can stand on its own.

The result, which I baked today, was a grand success. It tastes like pie filling with its eggy, almost custardy richness. It is moist yet firm, sweet and spiced. If you love pumpkin pie, you must try this cake. And, because it’s made with almond flour and eggs, it’s high in protein and fibre. I am so proud of this cake.

PUMPKIN CAKE

6 eggs
zest and juice of 1/2 orange
225g dark brown sugar
250g almond flour
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp each ground nutmeg, allspice and ginger
375g cooked pureed pumpkin

Preheat the oven to 375F/190C. Prepare a springform cake pan (8-10 in. dia.) by greasing the inside with butter and lining with parchment paper.

Beat the eggs with a wire whisk or electric beaters. Stir in the zest, juice, sugar, flour, baking powder, and spices. Add the pumpkin and mix well. The batter will be quite liquid.

Pour the batter into the prepared cake pan and place in the middle rack of the oven. Bake for 50-60 minutes or until a skewer inserted into the centre of the cake comes out clean. If after 40 minutes or so the top begins to burn, lay a piece of aluminum foil over the pan and continue to bake until done.

When baked though, remove the cake from the oven. Leave the cake in the pan on a rack to cool. When cool, remove from the springform tin.

Serve either plain or with whipped cream or crème fraiche.

NOTES:

On the pumpkin: Cooked pureed pumpkin is available in cans at the supermarket, however I cooked mine from scratch. If you are cooking your own pumpkin, DO NOT buy a Jack-o-lantern pumpkin. Make sure you get your pumpkin from the produce department. It will be labelled as a “pie” or “cooking” pumpkin. To cook, cut pumpkin in half, remove the seeds and place each half cut-side down in a large casserole dish. Add water to the dish (about 1/2 in.) and place in a 400F/200C oven for 45 min or until the flesh is easily pierced with a fork. Scoop out the cooked flesh and puree in a food processor or with an immersion blender.

On the measurements: I got a kitchen scale a year or so ago and will never go back to measuring with cups when baking. If you are a fan of British cookbooks, you will already know that their recipes only give measurements for dry ingredients by weight, not volume. It's more accurate, and quite frankly way easier than leveling off measuring cups. You can get a good kitchen scale for under $30. Here's one at Canadian Tire.

Photo: Pumpkin cake.

Baking feeds the soul

One of my inspirations for starting this blog came by way of an old friend and her fabulous cookbook.

About eight years ago, tired of chronic daily allergies and colds every 6-8 weeks, I visited a nutritionist who told me to stop eating wheat (as well as any other glutinous grain: rye, spelt, kamut, titricale, semolina, oat, and barley). I complied, desperate to rid myself of waking up every morning with sneezes and a runny nose. Within several months, my allergies disappeared completely, but I was left with a huge, gaping chasm of loss: no baking.

I dealt with the absence of baked goods in my life as best I could. I bought gluten-free cookbooks to replace traditional baking, but found rice flour unpalatable and the reliance on gluten-replacement substances like guar gum unsettling. I would sometimes fall off the wagon, indulging in croissants and cookies, only to regret my actions when my body revolted. I would finger through my favourite cookbooks with sadness, longing for the satisfaction the writers felt with the simple baking and eating of a coffee cake. Eventually, I resigned myself to accept life without cookies, scones, breads, muffins. I would be okay.

A few weeks ago, I did a Google-search of "grain-free" and found a familiar name. Jenny Lass, my classmate from senior kindergarten through grade 8, is now a diagnosed celiac and co-author of the Grain-free Gourmet cookbooks. I ran out and bought her books and, with trepidation, began testing the recipes. The baked goods rely on almond flour for their substance, which, to my surprise, is readily available and tastes great. The introductions to each book are simple and informative, imparting the science and philosophy of the specific carbohydrate diet as well as the personal journeys of the co-authors. I'm looking forward to reconnecting with Jenny tomorrow afternoon after more than 20 years.

Yesterday, I made Basic Biscuits from the second cookbook, Everyday Grain-free Gourmet. I realized through this process that baking is not a result. It's a complete experience, from feeling the craving for something warm and comforting to eat, through preparing the dough, preheating the oven, and watching the baking rise and turn golden brown. I remember now being eight years old and waiting with anticipation, watching my cakes and cookies rise through the plexiglas window of my Easy Bake Oven, swelling under the heat of a 60 watt bulb. The completion of the baking experience is extracting the goods from the oven and eating them, warm and fresh. They are tiny miracles: the product of intention and patience.

I ate my biscuits with butter, yoghurt cheese, jam and a cup of tea. They were warm and soft and tasted exactly as I remember. Thank you, Jenny.

NOTE: The best way to buy almond flour is in bulk. It is available for as low as $6 per pound through jkgourmet.com and can be frozen to maintain its freshness indefinitely. Almond flour is also available in small quantities at health food stores, though is much pricier. I have also found almond flour in the health food section of my local supermarket.