the best guacamole

I’m a guacamole snob.

Too many avocados. Recipe calls for two.

And maybe it’s a bit pretentious to claim that I am in possession of the recipe for the best guacamole, but I really think it’s true. It’s actually a recipe I learned from my mother, unlike most on here. Unlike a lot of people who cook, I don’t have many recipes I can say were handed down to me by my mother. I can’t pretend that I learned to cook from a tender young age, attending my homemaking mother in the kitchen and soaking in her culinary wisdom. Nope. I hated cooking until just a few years ago. And Mom is very much a follow-the-recipe-and-use-measuring-cups kind of cook. She’s not all that into improvisation, I’d say. So, other than basic life skill type cooking – eggs, pancakes, french toast, et cetera – and her blessed tendency to cook with whole foods, I haven’t inherited many actual recipes from her.

But this one I did. I learned to make guacamole from my mother. And before I went about measuring the ingredients and writing it down, I only knew how to make it by taste. No recipe.

So why is it the best? Well, mainly because it has the right ingredients. Other guacamoles tend to leave out crucial ingredients or add in distracting ones. For example, my dear but sadly misinformed best friend and her family make the guacamole without tomatoes. That’s the usual offense. Guacamole absolutely must include tomatoes. They also make theirs with cumin. No. Just don’t. It distracts from the avocado flavor. Same with peppers and leafy herbs of any kinds. Those are for salsa; keep those far away from guacamole, too. Do, on the other hand, be sure to include garlic. That’s tantamount. Guacamole tastes unexciting and blah without it.

Also, texture is important. Finely chopping the onions and garlic allows the flavors to blend together better in the guacamole. That way, you don’t get an overwhelming taste of onion in one bit and none at all in the next. The tomatoes can be whatever size, since their flavor is more mild. But they need to be small enough to fit in one bite with everything else and large enough to not disappear or turn to mush. The avocado itself should not be too smooth or creamy, unlike the final product of this batch, which I stirred too much as I tried to get the ingredient measurements right. Mash the avocado with a fork. Don’t blend it. Don’t use a potato masher. Just a fork, so there is still little chunks of avocado rather than total creaminess. It should look like it does after I first mashed it [above].

And salt. Don’t forget the salt.

The Best Guacamole

• 2 perfectly ripe avocados
• 2 cloves garlic (~ 2 teaspoons when minced)
• 2 tablespoons onion
• 1 small roma tomato ( ~ 1/2 cup)
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 2 teaspoons lemon (or lime) juice

Smash the avocados roughly with a fork. Mince the garlic and finely chop the onion. Cut the tomato into small chunks. Gently fold all the ingredients in with the avocado, using 3/4 of the salt or so. Taste it. Adjust the salt as necessary. Add a bit more of any of the other ingredients if you think  you should, but salt (and sometimes garlic) is the only ingredient that ever really needs addition. Enjoy with chips or crackers or with steak for breakfast!

pineapple salsa with cilantro

I’m back! I’m back, I’m back, I’m baaack! I didn’t go anywhere. I just didn’t blog for forever. Life has been busy and lots has happened, but of course I’ve still managed to squeeze some cooking in along the edges – like pineapple salsa with cilantro from the wildly overgrown space in our yard where the garden should be.

Conveniently, I happened upon a perfectly ripe pineapple in the grocery store while shopping for food for Mom’s birthday breakfast and supper. I served half of it for breakfast the day before her birthday and used the other half for the salsa.

The scraggly cilantro I found bolting up between the pink clover cover crop in the garden tasted delicious despite its nonstandard appearance. Actually, no. Delicious is too strong of a word for my opinion on cilantro. I read once that most everyone has a strong feelings about cilantro – they either love it or hate it. Those who hate it say it tastes like soap. The other people like that, apparently. In any case, I guess I’m an anomaly, because I can take or leave the stuff. But in the case of this salsa, I think it added nicely to the flavor of the whole thing.

Of course to eat salsa with or without cilantro – one needs a vehicle. Normally, I would make some of my flax and corn cracker-chips, but I’m doing the Whole30, which means no corn or soy. So, I whipped out a crumpled bag of pricey Bob’s Red Mill almond flour from the depths of the fridge and made the easiest, most delicious rosemary almond crackers ever. I didn’t have quite enough almond flour, so I added a bit of flax meal to make up the difference and left the rosemary out of some of them so it wouldn’t interfere with the salsa flavor.

I’d been doing this Whole30 thing for about a week – since May 2nd – at this point, and I had really been craving crunchy things like popcorn, crackers, and granola. The rosemary crackers were just the thing, and man, were they good. They’re a repeat favorite for me. I served them at a party once when some of my Celiac friends were around, and the cracker were positively devoured. Numerous people asked for the recipe. Anywho, this grain-starved girl thought they went great with the sweet and spicy salsa, though her mother didn’t agree. I was just happy to eat something crunchy.

Pineapple Salsa with Cilantro

• 2 cups chopped fresh pineapple (~1/2  of a very ripe pineapple)
• 3/4 cup chopped red onion (~1/2 an onion)
• 1/4 cup jalapeño, minced (~1 large jalapeño)
• 1 tablespoon lime juice
• 1 + 1/2 tablespoons chopped cilantro (~1 bunch)
• 1/8 teaspoon salt

Instructions for the jalapeño: if you just want the flavor of the jalapeño itself, remove all of the inner white stuff and seeds. If you want the perfect amount of heat, leave 1/4 of the white stuff and seeds; chop it up and mix it in with everything else. If you’re crazy about spicy food, don’t even bother cleaning any seeds out.

Combine all the ingredients and adjust to taste. Enjoy with crackers or chips or by the spoonful!

maple pecan granola with dates

This is my favorite granola. Without a doubt. Hands down. No questions asked. End of story. (I’m out of cliché phrases for indubitably.)

Here are some reasons why I love this granola:

1. Pecans are my favorite nuts. They make everything taste good. 
2. Maple is a delicious flavor.
3. Pecans + maple is a stellar combination.
4. Dates are incredibly naturally sweet.
5. I have five or six sweet teeth – not just one sweet tooth, like most people.
6. This granola is sweet.
7. This granola is like dessert for breakfast, only healthy and filling.
8. I love food.
9. I love breakfast.
   

As with most things, this granola is a combination of things that taste good with each other. It goes like this: Maple and pecans is a good combination. Pecans and dates taste good together. Dates and maple couldn’t be a bad combination. So, dates and maple and pecans would certainly be delicious. Ahhh, logic. It applies even to food.

I first made this exactly a year ago in April of 2012. I based it off of one of my first ever granola recipes, Spiced Cashews and Date Granola, which I’d come up with in September of 2011, right before leaving for Peru. That recipe included puffed wheat cereal as well as oats, which made for a unique texture combination. I was pleased with hint of warm spices along with the soft sweetness of the dates and the buttery crunch of the cashews. Swapping cashews for the even more flavorful pecans and adding maple syrup was the obvious next link in the chain of granola evolution.

Since last April every time I’ve made granola, I’ve made this Maple Pecan with Dates one, along with my other recipes. After tweaking it here and there, I think I have the amount of liquid and dry ingredients as well as the spices just about right, at least for my taste. It’s sweet. It’s crunchy. It’s oil-free, just like all of my granola. And it’s pretty healthy, as carbolicious breakfasts go. I love it.

You know what else I love? Having four days of classes left in the school year! YIPEE! Happily for me, my two exams fall on the first two exam days, so I get to leave on May 1st. Now if I can just make it through these three papers this week… I’ll be snacking on a lot of granola to get me through.

Maple Pecan Granola with Dates

• 4 cups oats
• 1/4 cup flax meal
• 1 cup pecans, chopped
• 1 + 1/2 cups dates, chopped
• 1/3 cup maple syrup
• 1/3 cup unsweetened applesauce
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
• 1/4 teaspoon allspice
• 1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
• 1/4 teaspoon vanilla

Preheat your oven to 300°F.

Toss all the ingredients – except for the dates -into a big bowl and mix well, until everything is evenly distributed. Spread on a baking sheet or two. Bake for 45 to 60 minutes, until lightly golden, stirring every 15 minutes or so. Mix in the chopped dates after the granola is finished baking. Enjoy by the spoonful, the handfull, the bowlfull!

banana & peanut butter granola clusters

I’m back with another granola recipe. Of course.

This granola could be expressed as a logical syllogism:

All granola recipes need a sweetener.

Some bananas are (very) sweet.

∴ Some bananas can be granola sweeteners.

That’s how my thinking regarding this granola went. I’m occasionally alarmed – though usually I don’t let it bother me – at the vast quantities of agave syrup, brown rice syrup, maple syrup, and honey that are consumed by the batches and batches of granola I make. So, in an attempt to escape from the cauldron of semi-processed liquid sweetener into which I had fallen, I decided to experiment with just using fruit as a sweetener.

Mid-way through last semester I conducted my first experiments with granola sweetened with blueberry and strawberry purees, respectively. They were an utter failure. I could neither taste the blueberry or strawberry flavor nor detect any sweetness. In the end I was forced to add brown sugar to my already baked granola, and during the rest of the semester I made it palatable by mixing it in with my other, far more tasty granola varieties.

Over spring break I tried again, this time with bananas. Success! Lightly sweetened granola sans liquid sweetener! Granted, the actual banana flavor is mostly masked by the peanut butter and nutmeg, but that’s because I like peanut butter. If you want more banana flavor, I’d say reduce the peanut butter and cut out some of the nutmeg, which may or may not work. Regardless, using the ripest, sweetest bananas it tantamount. Got bananas covered in black spots? Use those. Mostly blackened bananas you stuck in the freezer to save for banana bread? Those ones.

Riper bananas are sweeter bananas.

Sweeter bananas make sweeter granola.

Sweeter granola is better granola.

∴ The riper the bananas, the sweeter the granola.

This granola is marvelously crunchy and full of big clusters. It is just a good a snack as it is a breakfast cereal. Believe me, I know. In a fit of snackishness, I went through a good fourth (third?) of a batch in one evening. That was a delicious mistake. Now I’m stranded here at school, carefully rationing out my granola and raiding the dining hall for pumpkin seeds and peanuts to use as filler to bolster my stock. If I’m careful, I think I may just make it through the last three weeks of classes. Maybe.

Banana & Peanut Butter Granola Clusters

• 4 cups oats
• 1/4 cup flax meal (optional)
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 1 teaspoon nutmeg
• 2 very ripe bananas (should be ~1 cup pureed)
• 1/4 cup natural peanut butter
• 1/2 teaspoon vanilla
• 1 cup roasted peanuts
• 3/4 cup golden raisins

Preheat oven to 300°F.

Toss the bananas, peanut butter, and vanilla into a food processor and blend until smooth.  In a large bowl stir together the oats, flax, salt, and nutmeg. Add the banana puree and stir until all of the oats are evenly coated.

Spread the granola on a cookie sheet or two and bake for 60 to 75 minutes at 300°F, until crunchy and slightly golden. Add the roasted peanuts and golden raisins. Enjoy with milk, on yogurt, or by the handful!

el poder hablar español | the power of speaking Spanish

Escribí una composición para una clase de español. Tuve que explicar como el poder hablar español afecta mi vida. De verdad siento un poco de orgullo de ella, pues voy a compartirla con ustedes:

El poder español

El poder hablar español afecta mi vida de varias maneras. Lo que observo mayormente es que la habilidad de hablar español me da un sentido de seguridad cuando viajo a otros países, especialmente, por supuesto, donde se habla el español. No tengo miedo de perderme en una ciudad y no poder pedir ayuda. También cuando viajo, aumenta la posibilidad de comunicarme con cualquier persona. Si no podemos hablar en inglés, puedo tratar de hacerlo en español. Es otra red de seguridad para mis viajes. Además, siento una especie de orgullo de ser alguien que puede romper el estereotipo del estadounidense que solamente habla inglés y no intenta comunicarse con los demás en otros idiomas. Pero al mismo tiempo me da un poco de miedo hablar en español en público. No es un idioma con el que me siento cómoda. Me siento cohibida por la tosquedad de mi pronunciación, la lentitud de mi dicción y la deficiencia de mi vocabulario.

Aunque soy consciente de mis inhibiciones, el poder hablar español a veces me da esperanza, porque yo sé que he aprendido el español de la nada. Me acuerdo de lo tiempo en que no hablaba español, y esto me inspira porque aunque el proceso ha tardado muchos años, antes no podía hablar y ahora puedo. Veo el progreso, y puedo anticiparlo en mi aprendizaje del alemán y otros idiomas que aprenderé en el futuro. Pero el poder hablar el español tal como puedo también me muestra cuánto no puedo hablarlo, cuanto no sé, cuanto tengo que aprender todavía. Al saber la pequeña parte del idioma que sé, me doy cuenta de todo lo que no sé. No puedo conversar de todo. Cuando intento explicar mis opiniones o mis pensamientos – todo lo que hace que yo sea como soy – no las puedo decir en español.

Pero, a pesar de que en español no puedo expresar mis sentimientos profundos, a veces es como una lengua privada para mí misma. Ninguna otra persona de mi familia inmediata puede comprender el español. Pues, a veces me murmuro a mí misma pequeñas cosas o frases como si el español fuera un idioma ficticio como los que intentaba inventar cuando era niña. Pero ahora es real. A veces me imagino que tengo una superpotencia – que puedo entender algo que la mayoría de mis amigos y mi familia no puede. Es como un boleto a otro mundo, a veces a un mundo privado aparte de los demás. Por ejemplo, mis tías latinoamericanas les hablan a mis primos en español cuando quieren regañarlos o decirles algo que quieren que el resto de la familia no oiga. Con mi conocimiento del español, entro por casualidad en sus conversaciones privadas. También, mi superpotencia me permite ayudar en las conversaciones y comunicaciones entre grupos que normalmente no se interrelacionarían en mi comunidad. He traducido pequeños letreros para organizar un partido de fútbol en un vecindario cerca de mi iglesia donde viven muchas personas hispanohablantes. Siento un poco de orgullo por tener la habilidad de contribuir a una conexión entre vecinos para construir la amistad. Espero que el poder hablar español continúe ayudándome en el futuro.

For one of my Spanish classes I wrote a short paper about how being able to speak Spanish affects my life. To be quite honest, I was rather proud of this little paper. So, I’m sharing it with you guys. Maybe it’ll give you a glimpse into the strange world of being partially bilingual. The original was in Spanish, so if this translation sounds a bit awkward in places, that’s why.

The Power of Speaking Spanish

The ability to speak Spanish affects my life in various ways. What I notice most is that it gives me a sense of security when I travel to other countries, especially, of course, where Spanish is spoken. I’m not afraid of getting lost in a city and being unable to ask for help. Also, when I travel it increases the possibility that I will be able to communicate with anyone I come across  If the other person can’t speak English, I can try Spanish. It is a second safety net for my travels. Furthermore, I am a bit proud to be someone who can break the stereotype of the typical American who can only speak English and doesn’t try to communicate with other people in different languages  But at the same time, I’m a bit afraid to speak Spanish in public. It’s not a language with which I feel comfortable. I’m inhibited by the roughness of my pronunciation, the slowness of my diction, and the deficiency of my vocabulary.

Though I’m conscious of my inhibitions, the ability to speak Spanish gives me hope sometimes, because I know that I have learned Spanish from the beginning, from nothing, from zero. I can remember a time when I couldn’t speak Spanish at all, and this inspires me even – though the process has taken years and years - because before I couldn’t speak Spanish, and now I can. I see my progress, and I can anticipate it in my learning of German now and other languages I’ll learn in the future. But being able to speak Spanish as I can now also shows me how much I can’t speak it – how much I don’t know; how much I have still to learn. Knowing the little portion of the language that I do, makes me notice how much I don’t know. I can’t talk about everything I want to in Spanish. When I try to explain my opinions or my thoughts – everything that makes me who I am – I can’t put them into words in Spanish.

However, even though I can’t express my most complicated thoughts, Spanish is like a private language for me sometimes. No one else in my immediate family can really understand it. So, sometimes I murmur little phrases to myself in Spanish, as if it was a made-up language, like those my brother and I invented when we were younger. But now it is for real. Sometimes I imagine that I have a superpower – I can understand something that the better part of my family and friends can’t. It’s like a ticket to another world, sometimes to the private world of other people. For example, my Latin-American aunts sometimes talk to my cousins in Spanish when they want to chide them or tell them something they don’t want everyone to hear. With my knowledge of Spanish  I end up accidentally overhearing and understanding their conversations. Also, my superpower allows me to aid in conversation and communication between groups of people that normally wouldn’t interact in my local community. I had the opportunity to translate a little flyer to organize a soccer game in a neighborhood near my church where lots of Spanish-speaking people live. I felt a bit proud to be able to contribute to a connection between neighbors for the purpose of building friendship. I hope that in the future Spanish will continue to be useful to me as it has been so far.

sundried tomato hummus

People find our yard attractive. By that I don’t mean that it’s particularly gorgeous – though it does have a certain verdant, pastoral appeal in late summer or early fall – but rather that people enjoy the novelty of what we have done our little swath of earth. I don’t particularly understand it, but I suppose we do have a bit of a menagerie. And people like that. It’s different from what they’re used to.

So, they come. We feed them burgers and various odd salads for which we have become known. They pet the goats, chase the chickens, queue up for the zipline, comment on the size of the garden, and inquire after our unoccupied beehives. It’s entertaining for everyone: for us, because it’s always fun to suddenly find the objects of our everyday life suddenly of interest to anyone; for them, because they get to wander a big, grassy yard or sit by a proper bonfire and actually see the stars; and for our dog, because she gets all the scraps.

Tonight was one of those nights. Some of our friends came over and enjoyed the gloriously warm and breezy afternoon and crisp evening with us. We ate goat burgers. We had a bonfire. We made s’mores. The chickens were chased, the goats were petted, the zipline was ridden, and the dog’s ceaseless begging was more or less ignored. It was nice.

As Mom was arranging vegetables for snacking a half an hour before everyone was due to arrive, I asked if she wanted me to make hummus. She was planning to just use ranch, but I had no intention of letting a hummus-making opportunity pass by. Hummus is just too easy and too tasty.

I grabbed the last few dehydrated roma tomatoes from last summer’s garden from a bag in the freezer, opened a can of chick peas, and snagged some garlic and tahini paste from the fridge. My hand oscillated for an indecisive second between lemon juice and lime juice, but I decided on the latter. A few minutes in the Vitamix – and more than one exasperated growl from me about its lack of a pulse function – later: hummus! Too easy.

Sundried Tomato Hummus

Ingredients:

• 1 can (15 oz) chickpeas
• 2 cloves garlic
• 1/2 cup sundried tomatoes
• 2 tablespoons lime juice
• 3 tablespoons tahini paste
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 7 – 9 tablespoons chickpea canning liquid (or water)

Drain chickpeas, but reserve canning liquid. Toss everything (start with 7 tablespoons of chickpea canning liquid; add more to your preference) in a food processor and blend until smooth. Adjust salt to taste. Enjoy with veggies or chips or on sandwiches or however!

the definition of spring break

 

The view from one side of our little apartment/hotel in Frisco, CO.

 

I realize there has been a severe lack of posts on here in the last week or so. That, my friends, is due entirely to that much-anticipated, stupendous event of the semester called Spring Break. Of course, I discovered that some of my professors need to reassess their understanding of the term break, since they do not seem to understand its meaning. Just in case some professor somewhere reads this, let me enlighten you:

²break

noun

(1): an abrupt, significant, or noteworthy change or interruption in a continuous process, trend, or surface (2): a respite from work, school, or duty <coffee break> <spring break> (3): relief from annoyance —often used to express exasperation or irritation in phrases like give me a break(4): a planned interruption in a radio or television program <abreak for the commercial>

- Merriam Webster

To make it abundantly clear: no homework of any kind should ever be assigned over break, nor should any tests be scheduled for the week afterwards. Take note, professors of the world.

We had Biscoff cookies on the plane!

While I certainly adhered to the true meaning of the term Spring Break by doing no school work beyond making German flashcards, my linguistics professor assigned a 15-page group paper. How on earth were we supposed to work in a group over break? No one accomplished anything, naturally. It’s due on Wednesday and is now consuming my life.

What it looked like when we landed in Colorado.

Despite the residual stress from the aforementioned paper, two tests, and spare bits of reading homework, I thoroughly enjoyed my break.

Dad getting ready to conquer a slope at Arapahoe Basin.

We went skiing in Colorado, which was quite excellent. Having never skied out west before, I was duly impressed by the length and variety of the ski runs and the sheer volume of snow.

Cramming out skis into the back of our Jeep.

Over three days of skiing we visited Copper Mountain, Breckenridge, Arapahoe Basin, and Keystone.

The view from the back window of our apartment/hotel/thingy/place.

 

Of those four, I liked Keystone best. Its blue runs were generally wide, rolling hills, and its black diamonds included the best stretches of perfectly spaced moguls we came across all week. Breckenridge was similar, but its four peaks and numerous ski lifts were a bit overwhelming. And the moguls weren’t as good. Copper Mountain was like Keystone and Breckenridge but with less quality slopes, and Arapahoe Basin was the odd slope out. It was highest in elevation, I think, and was the only place that had the majority of its runs above the tree line. Though the views were beautiful, it was a bit desolate and steep up there on top of the world. Skiing Keystone right after A-Basin was marvelous.

Carrots and yellow beets. Recipe coming someday.

I will get back to posting recipes eventually here. Once we returned from skiing, I managed to fit in a bit of cooking in between social engagements and such. But for now I have to finish this linguistics paper.

Dawn in Frisco, CO.

So long, Spring Break.

Relaxing after a day of skiing.