Mark Bittman cut a deal with his doctor some six years ago, who advised him to give up meat. He'd turn vegan, he said, but every night at six (when the moon was just right) he'd transform into a carnivorous beast, sating his appetite with whatever flesh he chose to pounce upon that night.
Apparently, the diet worked, and he has a new book coming out about it, which I might well want to get at some point. But the point of this rambling post is to note that I made the same bargain a couple of years ago. While not vegan, I have been solidly vegetarian until 6 pm every day without fail. Of course, I exclude from this the occasional breakfast meat or egg (once every few weekends) and the once every two months or so pilgrimage to farmburger for lunch. (Speaking of which, I am overdue...) But day in and day out, my lunches consist of a mass of fruits and vegetables.
Such a diet is not always comfortable. Raw vegetables don't sit well with me, and as such I tend to avoid them--especially raw onions, broccoli, and cauliflower. When the tomatoes are ripe in the summer, I make endless tomato pita pockets, dressed with Spectrum's omega-3 mayonnaise and clover/alfalfa/broccoli sprouts. In fact, I eat so many tomatoes in the summer that I'm fairly certain some rare blood disease solely attributable to massive tomato consumption is my future. For this, I blame
4th & Swift, the restaurant that introduced me to Cherokee Purple tomatoes (and still probably the best tomato salad preparation I have ever had). But come October, the last of the tomatoes are off the vine and come November the last of them are ripening. Even green tomatoes at this point end up somewhat mealy in texture and grumpy in flavor. Finding another lunch staple has been, to say the least, difficult.
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| lunchy salads |
But no longer. A trip to
Empire State South changed this when I discovered the grain salad. I have always avoided grains on the idea that they were sugar and thus to be avoided. But now that I have turned away from most super-refined sugars, grains have proved a great way to fill the void. Lunch is now a farro and arugula salad, usually with sliced green olives and Parmesan cheese, dressed with a red wine vinaigrette. I add an apple and a banana, or sometimes blueberries, or any measure of the three in order to make it a proper lunch.
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| Farro, Steel Cut Oats, and Quinoa |
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| Making oatmeal. Only this one had quinoa in it. Not to be repeated |
Breakfast, which I once skipped on a regular basis, is now almost always steel cut oats loaded with fresh blueberries or strawberries (if I can find any), walnuts, raisins, and/or dried apricots. The grain cereal eaten at 6:45 holds me until 11 or 12, depending on when I eat lunch. And on the weekends, I use the oatmeal to make pancakes for Maia. That makes the pancakes *almost* justifiable.
My typical oat preparation is simple and rewarding. First, I start the kettle. Then I toast one cup of dry oats in a tablespoon of butter. Once they are fragrant, but before they burn, I add three and a half cups of hot water and bring to a boil. This usually takes not time at all. Then I cover the oats and remove them from heat and let them sit overnight. By morning, they are ready to go. This preparation has never failed me.
Not all of my experiences have been good. A tantalizing article in Bon Apetit asked the question "did you think Quinoa was just for savory salads?" Why yes, I thought, I did. But the article recommended an ambitious hot cereal recipe calling for half oats and half quinoa, as well as raisins and cinnamon and cardamom in the pot. As above, the recipe recommended letting the porridge sit overnight after bringing to a boil. For serving, it recommended any number of nuts and fruits and--and this should have given me pause--a drizzle of maple syrup.
By the end, the article had answered its own question: "Yes, Quinoa is just for savory salads." Never again.
