Summer in Santa Monica- and a recipe round-up

Farmers' market beauty in Santa Monica.

The first notes from our 

Santa Monica summer sublet:

After living in the brittle high dessert of Northern New Mexico for three years, I am drunk on oxygen. I walk Ocean Avenue cradled in moisture, intoxicated, breathing deep. And although we sleep seventeen blocks from the Pacific, I smell the ocean in the sheets. I wake with the sensation, the awareness of the sea. It infuses the day with an unnameable pleasure I can almost taste. If I could live on air I would eat the on-shore breeze with a spoon.

Steve has found his own source of bliss at Caffe Luxxe on Montana Avenue. Rich, caramel Italian espresso with the perfect artful brush of creamy foam. If further persuasion is needed to lure him into staying here, I only need to whisper, “Una bella tazza” and he'll be putty in my hands.

Things are looking up.

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Gluten-Free Strawberry Cobbler Cake

Dear Gluten-Free Goddess,

Not another strawberry recipe. Please. And a cake recipe at that? Pfffft. I've had it with all your so called strawberry deliciousness. Will you just get over it already? (What do you think this is, strawberry season?) I'm totally bored with the whole strawberry thing. Good Gracious Lord In Heaven.

Where the bleep are the broccolini recipes? The watercress and sardine tarts? The marinated scapes, head cheese, and tripe? Where's your squid ink linguini recipe? And croissants! I can't find them anywhere.

And must I beg you for boutique bean recipes? You of all people- living in your precious New Mexico desert. Or have you moved to Hollyweird now (that figures). I need boutique heirloom bean recipes. I need my daily local vegan fiber, if you get my drift.

Hmm? None of the above? 

Figures.

But I forgive you, I guess. You're only human. You're not an actual living breathing goddess as I'm all too sure you're aware. Right?

So I say this with love--- and I'm your biggest fan, by the way. I've even won a recipe contest or two using your recipes. How cool is THAT?

I have a question for you--- since you are such a know-it-all maven.

Hope you don't mind helping me out here. I know you're probably super busy and all, but. I guess I feel I'm entitled. Because I'm such a fan. Here goes.

Why does gluten-free vegan baking suck rocks?

I mean, just in a general kind of way. It really, truly sucks!  I'm not exaggerating or indulging in hyperboloid or whatever you call it.

I'm having some trouble lately. I followed your directions. Well, mostly. I did change a few ingredients. Because you use WAY TOO much sugar and fat.  So I took out the sugar. And most of the fat. I used prune puree and mashed black beans. And I switched the starch to teff flour to increase the protein ratio. I threw in boiled flax gel. But still.

It turned out well, just icky.

Maybe it's the whole weird flour thing. The kids (spoiled brats) won't eat that quinoa stuff. And my husband can't stand the smell of buckwheat flour. And don't even mention tapioca. Not in this house.

And while we're at it? Some friendly advice.

Can you just skip the unbearable intros? You're so self-satisfied. Could you be any more full of yourself? And keep your political insinuations to yourself too, wouldja please? Not everyone is a bleeding heart rainbow diversity blah blah tree hugger believing in HOPE and peace and equal rights and affordable health care like you.

Some of us actually uphold the family unit as God intended. We honor the sacrament of marriage. Well, the 45% of us who don't end up in divorce court do, anyway. After all, this is a FOOD BLOG. Isn't the RECIPE the point? A sincere piece of advice--- just post the recipe. Nix the philosophical stuff. I don't really get it anyway, what you write. And I'm sure I'm not alone in this. Your writing is a little weird and I'm almost certain it's subversive in some sorta artsy feminist manifesto way.

Oh, and one last request. Aside from the whole vegan batter looking like snot thing. What the hell is xanthan gum, anyway? And which store in my town carries it?

Looking forward to hearing from you ASAP!

Buggy Nudnik

PS: By the way, I decided last night to start my own gluten-free vegan baking business. My goal is either to start up a bakery or be a personal gluten-free vegan chef. I figure I'm getting to be such an expert on this gluten-free baking thing, I might as well get PAID for it. So thanks for all your recipes. I'll be using them. Thought you be honored.

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Fifty Five Things I've Learned in 55 Years

Last December, my blogging amiga Kalyn posted a list for her birthday: Sixty Things I've Learned in Sixty Years. Like so many readers, friends and fellow food bloggers, I was inspired by her post. So as birthday number fifty-five (fifty-five? how is that possible?) sat on the horizon as opaque and huge as June Gloom in Los Angeles, I was inspired to write my own list of hard won wisdom. Just to cheer myself up. And shake some cobwebs loose. Fifty-five just scares the pants off me, I gotta confess.

Fifty Five Things I've Learned
in 55 Years

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Gluten-Free Millet Buckwheat Wraps

Make a Gluten-Free Wrap

What's keeping us fortified during our transition from the wild desert of northern New Mexico to the cool big blue of the Pacific? In a word, wraps. We're munching Lime Quinoa Salads, leftover Veggie Garden Loaf, stir-fry veggies and quinoa, and sandwich fillings in these handy, tasty beauties. They sustained us as we whittled down our food supply, making both lunch and dinner easy as pie. I froze a dozen for the road, thinking that in a pinch, I could always buy a salad to stuff inside.

They're completely fabulous hot off the tortilla griddle. The best. I could scarf them down bare, without adornment. In fact, I started with a basic crepe recipe when I was developing this wrap recipe. Which is why they're pliable, tender and delicious. Unfortunately, they're also fragile after day one- a problem I am working on. But if you freeze them right away, snugging rounds of wax paper in between each wrap, they thaw easily and remain fresh enough- though slightly less flexible.

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Vegan Celery Soup with Ryeless Rye Croutons

A creamy celery soup that is dairy-free and gluten-free? Indeed.

By the time you read this new soup recipe, we'll be well on our way to Southern California. It will Monday, you see (it is Monday, right?). It will be bright and early. And we'll be waving our coffee fueled good-byes to piney Flagstaff, Arizona, the infamous gateway to the Grand Canyon (inspiration for Steve's movie) where we stayed overnight. We'll be up with the chickens, Honda packed with gluten-free treats, hitting Route 40 West for the second leg of the trip.

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A Vegan Basil Mint Parsley "Pesto"

Clean. Raw. Pesto!

We're getting so close to our departure now I can taste it. The house is swept and cleaned, boxes and bags are packed. Anticipation is hanging in the desert air. You can almost hold it in your cupped open hands. The hardest part will be trying to sleep Saturday night. I told Steve, If it's 3 AM and we're lying side by side in the dark listening to the whir of the ceiling fan, just waiting, can we get up and go? 

Why not? he responded.

This earned him some extra bonus points.

Not that he needs any. His bonus point status is pretty high to begin with these days. We've had an exciting week. I'm so proud of him. His first script sale, an independent movie titled The Canyon just released its first trailer. If you'd like to catch a sneak peek at the movie, see The Canyon trailer here. You'll see why I fell in love with Yvonne Strahovski and Will Patton when we visited the set.

So what does all this California dreamin' taste like? I decided it tastes like basil and mint with a bite of parsley. 

Green. Earthy. Alive.

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Roasted Sicilian Potatoes

Roasted potato love- Italian style.

Here's an easy, vegan summer side dish recipe you can bake or grill in foil packets. It's an intuitive toss-together combo of potatoes, onion, garlic, tomatoes, olives and raisins--- with some hot pepper flakes thrown in to kick it up Sicilian style. I don't even know where the inspiration came from.

It all started with cleaning out the pantry.

We're leaving on our long pined-for road trip next Sunday (can you say, Stoked, Babycakes?). I've been trying to use up the remaining lonely bits of our fresh ingredients and whittle down our stash of friendly staples. I'm determined to scour the cupboards bare. One way or another. I'm leaving no can of fire roasted tomatoes behind. Or bags of organic popcorn. Whatever is left standing next Saturday night? It's all coming with me. Because deep in the cockles of my private tiny girl heart, I am not coming back. Nope. Not even to say good-bye.

So if you spy a black Honda Fit humming its little heart out, streaking across the Southwestern desert on its journey to Los Angeles stuffed with homebaked vegan goodies (translation: Strawberry Rhubarb Muffins, Gluten-Free Ryeless Rye Bread, Chocolate Pecan Brownies, Lime Quinoa Salad with Mint, Two Potato Salad) and gluten-free comestibles (translation: several pounds of rice pasta, three boxes of quinoa, two sacks each of millet flour, sorghum flour, and tapioca starch, five jars of sugar-free organic preserves, one unopened bottle of Annie's ketchup, a shoebox packed with a baker's dozen bottles of dried herbs, sea salt, cumin and sesame seeds), well.

That would be, me.

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