Coconut Milk Rice Pudding with Fresh Mango – I Don’t Like Rice Pudding, But I Love This!

I’m not a big fan of rice pudding, but curiosity got the best of me, and I needed to find out how much better/different a version would be that used Arborio rice, and the same basic technique as a savory risotto. 

In addition to trying out a new cooking method, I also wanted to sneak in some coconut milk for a little tropical twist, and I’m happy to report great success on both fronts. The Arborio produced a wonderfully creamy texture, and unlike tradition long-grain rice pudding, the grains of rice maintained a certain textural integrity, instead of just disappearing into one big, starchy mass.

The coconut milk gave the pudding another layer of subtle sweetness, and also inspired the fresh mango garnish, which really elevated these bowls of comforting goodness. Of course the mango is optional, and you’re welcome to take your chances with raisins, preferably golden ones. If desired, those can be added at the same time as the sugar and salt.

Speaking of bowls, I generally don’t make dessert for three (except this one time, at band camp…), but I had some new porcelain ones I wanted to use, and didn’t bother to check the volume before ladling in the sweet porridge.

Despite my “odd” yield, you should get four nicely sized portions from the amounts below. And yes, if you can’t find coconut milk (which you can), simply use all milk. I hope you give this coconut milk rice pudding a try soon. Enjoy!

Ingredients for 4 portions:

1 tbsp butter

1/3 cup Arborio rice (Note: I haven’t tested this recipe using regular rice, so no idea if that will work here. My instincts tell me, not nearly as well)

1 cup coconut milk

2 3/4 to 3 cups milk, or as needed

1/4 cup white sugar

1/8 tsp vanilla

salt to taste

1 egg yolk, beaten with 2 tbsp milk

For the garnish:

1/4 cup finely diced mango

pinch of Chinese 5-Spice

View the complete recipe

I’m not a big fan of rice pudding, but curiosity got the best of me, and I needed to find out how much better/different a version would be that used Arborio rice, and the same basic technique as a savory risotto. 

In addition to trying out a new cooking method, I also wanted to sneak in some coconut milk for a little tropical twist, and I’m happy to report great success on both fronts. The Arborio produced a wonderfully creamy texture, and unlike tradition long-grain rice pudding, the grains of rice maintained a certain textural integrity, instead of just disappearing into one big, starchy mass.

The coconut milk gave the pudding another layer of subtle sweetness, and also inspired the fresh mango garnish, which really elevated these bowls of comforting goodness. Of course the mango is optional, and you’re welcome to take your chances with raisins, preferably golden ones. If desired, those can be added at the same time as the sugar and salt.

Speaking of bowls, I generally don’t make dessert for three (except this one time, at band camp…), but I had some new porcelain ones I wanted to use, and didn’t bother to check the volume before ladling in the sweet porridge.

Despite my “odd” yield, you should get four nicely sized portions from the amounts below. And yes, if you can’t find coconut milk (which you can), simply use all milk. I hope you give this coconut milk rice pudding a try soon. Enjoy!

Ingredients for 4 portions:

1 tbsp butter

1/3 cup Arborio rice (Note: I haven’t tested this recipe using regular rice, so no idea if that will work here. My instincts tell me, not nearly as well)

1 cup coconut milk

2 3/4 to 3 cups milk, or as needed

1/4 cup white sugar

1/8 tsp vanilla

salt to taste

1 egg yolk, beaten with 2 tbsp milk

For the garnish:

1/4 cup finely diced mango

pinch of Chinese 5-Spice

View the complete recipe

reade more... Résuméabuiyad

Spicy Orange Zest Beef – It Is What It Is

As I mentioned in the intro, this orange zest beef recipe is not supposed to be Chinese food, or even Americanized Chinese take-out food. Of course, since it’s obviously inspired by those day-glow orange, deep-fried beef nuggets (which may or may not be actual beef), comparisons are inevitable.

While I have no delusions that those crunchy bits would be preferable to most people, especially ones that just stumbled out of a Phish concert, this much-lower-fat alternative is still a quick, easy and perfectly delicious meal.

You’ll want to use a tender beef for this, since the cooking time is only 4-5 minutes. Cheaper cuts like chuck are going to be too tough, unless, of course, you pound it paper-thin, or use some kind of tenderizer. I used sirloin, which worked fine, but ideally you’ll find yourself some beef tenderloin trimmings.

Here’s another instance where you are much better off going to talk to a butcher, rather than a clerk at the supermarket. A real butcher will sell you the scraps produced when a whole tenderloin is trimmed. The meat is cut from something called the “chain” (be sure to use that word to impress the butcher), which is super-tender, and probably half the price.

One last tip: Be sure the beef is VERY well drained before it hits the hot pan. If your meat is wet, it will just boil and steam, and won’t work as well. Of course, if beef isn’t your thing, this will also work with chicken, pork, and…[gulp]…textured vegetable protein. I hope you give this a try soon. Enjoy!

Ingredients:

1 lb tender beef, ideally trimmed tenderloin scraps

vegetable oil spray, as needed

1/4 cup orange juice

1/4 cup rice vinegar

2 tbsp soy sauce

1 tbsp Sambal hot chili sauce

2 cloves minced garlic

1 tbsp brown sugar, or to taste

2 tbsp orange zest

1 bunch green onions

1/4 cup water

1 tsp corn starch

salt and pepper to taste, optional

white rice as needed

View the complete recipe

As I mentioned in the intro, this orange zest beef recipe is not supposed to be Chinese food, or even Americanized Chinese take-out food. Of course, since it’s obviously inspired by those day-glow orange, deep-fried beef nuggets (which may or may not be actual beef), comparisons are inevitable.

While I have no delusions that those crunchy bits would be preferable to most people, especially ones that just stumbled out of a Phish concert, this much-lower-fat alternative is still a quick, easy and perfectly delicious meal.

You’ll want to use a tender beef for this, since the cooking time is only 4-5 minutes. Cheaper cuts like chuck are going to be too tough, unless, of course, you pound it paper-thin, or use some kind of tenderizer. I used sirloin, which worked fine, but ideally you’ll find yourself some beef tenderloin trimmings.

Here’s another instance where you are much better off going to talk to a butcher, rather than a clerk at the supermarket. A real butcher will sell you the scraps produced when a whole tenderloin is trimmed. The meat is cut from something called the “chain” (be sure to use that word to impress the butcher), which is super-tender, and probably half the price.

One last tip: Be sure the beef is VERY well drained before it hits the hot pan. If your meat is wet, it will just boil and steam, and won’t work as well. Of course, if beef isn’t your thing, this will also work with chicken, pork, and…[gulp]…textured vegetable protein. I hope you give this a try soon. Enjoy!

Ingredients:

1 lb tender beef, ideally trimmed tenderloin scraps

vegetable oil spray, as needed

1/4 cup orange juice

1/4 cup rice vinegar

2 tbsp soy sauce

1 tbsp Sambal hot chili sauce

2 cloves minced garlic

1 tbsp brown sugar, or to taste

2 tbsp orange zest

1 bunch green onions

1/4 cup water

1 tsp corn starch

salt and pepper to taste, optional

white rice as needed

View the complete recipe

reade more... Résuméabuiyad

Gluten-Free Pineapple Coconut Muffins

Tender pineapple muffins with toasted coconut.

I thought I'd reprise this important post (and fabulous muffin recipe) from a year ago- when the gluten-free community was buzzing from insults on every side. Consider this my UNapology for living gluten-free.

April Fools Day looms. But you won't find any tricks up my sleeve. Unlike the greater, broader world beyond my kitchen that apparently harbors a few individuals contemptuous of living gluten-free. This was a tough week to be a celiac. Assaults ranged from the merely mean-spirited to the stunningly ill informed. There was the alleged chef in Colorado (I say alleged, because it turns out this nudnik may have actually been a waiter) ridiculing gluten-free diners (the term he favored was "idiots") and crowing on Facebook that he passes off regular pasta as gluten-free (join the lively discussion here). There was the Dr. Oz show calling gluten-free a "fad diet", asking is it "just a myth?" (in full disclosure, I believe he meant as a weight loss tool, as a certain gluten-free celebrity has been claiming in her g-free book- ironically, featured on Dr. Oz last year). And finally, there was a famous food blogger-turned-author whose foodie envied blog-to-movie deal has apparently not cultivated much compassion for those of us stricken with gluten sensitivity. She barked on Facebook, "If I have to read one more thing about going gluten free I'm going to stomp on someone's face." And more than one person agreed with her. One of her fans (a food blogger) added, it's "too precious".

Strap on your helmets, Campers. There's not a lot of love out there.

I know this. You know this. Some of you have even shared stories about not only eye-rolling waiters and could-care-less food preparers, but family members sneaking gluten into what they feed you, just to "see what happens". Just to test you.

Let me repeat that.

Family. Feeding you gluten. On purpose.

No wonder strangers feel they can openly spout contempt. If we are not respected within the bosom of our own clan, our flesh and blood, how can we expect random strangers to care?

The truth is, they don't.

Until their child gets anemic for no apparent reason. Or their young wife breaks a hip. Or their mother shrinks to skin and bones before their very eyes. Then it becomes interesting. Then the mystery becomes worthy of their attention. And they start asking questions. What is that disease called, you know the one where you can't eat bread?

Celiac disease is sadly under diagnosed. Millions have it and don't know it. And that translates to an epidemic of silent suffering- a lot of mysterious malnourishment, anemia, and osteoporosis. A lot of migraines, depression, infertility, and blistery skin rashes in unmentionable locations. A lot of bloating and Pepto Bismol chugging. But hey.

We know you don't want to hear about it.

So forgive us, please.

Forgive us for living with a autoimmune disease whose only cure is a gluten-free diet. Forgive us for focusing so much on food- our only medicine. Our breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Our daily bread. Forgive us for asking questions in restaurants. Forgive us for feeling awkward at social events where food is ubiquitous, and family parties, where your disbelief and denial can make us sick for three days.

Forgive us for getting excited when a new recipe works, and our daughter can eat a chocolate chip cookie that isn't going to make her ill. Forgive us for sending our son to school with gluten-free vegan cupcakes for the class. Forgive us for wanting our children to feel like they belong and contribute.

Forgive us our passion for gluten-free food that fills our bellies and lightens our souls. Just a little.

Because to those of us who must live gluten-free- every day of our life- food is no small thing.

Food is precious.



Read more + get the recipe >>

Tender pineapple muffins with toasted coconut.

I thought I'd reprise this important post (and fabulous muffin recipe) from a year ago- when the gluten-free community was buzzing from insults on every side. Consider this my UNapology for living gluten-free.

April Fools Day looms. But you won't find any tricks up my sleeve. Unlike the greater, broader world beyond my kitchen that apparently harbors a few individuals contemptuous of living gluten-free. This was a tough week to be a celiac. Assaults ranged from the merely mean-spirited to the stunningly ill informed. There was the alleged chef in Colorado (I say alleged, because it turns out this nudnik may have actually been a waiter) ridiculing gluten-free diners (the term he favored was "idiots") and crowing on Facebook that he passes off regular pasta as gluten-free (join the lively discussion here). There was the Dr. Oz show calling gluten-free a "fad diet", asking is it "just a myth?" (in full disclosure, I believe he meant as a weight loss tool, as a certain gluten-free celebrity has been claiming in her g-free book- ironically, featured on Dr. Oz last year). And finally, there was a famous food blogger-turned-author whose foodie envied blog-to-movie deal has apparently not cultivated much compassion for those of us stricken with gluten sensitivity. She barked on Facebook, "If I have to read one more thing about going gluten free I'm going to stomp on someone's face." And more than one person agreed with her. One of her fans (a food blogger) added, it's "too precious".

Strap on your helmets, Campers. There's not a lot of love out there.

I know this. You know this. Some of you have even shared stories about not only eye-rolling waiters and could-care-less food preparers, but family members sneaking gluten into what they feed you, just to "see what happens". Just to test you.

Let me repeat that.

Family. Feeding you gluten. On purpose.

No wonder strangers feel they can openly spout contempt. If we are not respected within the bosom of our own clan, our flesh and blood, how can we expect random strangers to care?

The truth is, they don't.

Until their child gets anemic for no apparent reason. Or their young wife breaks a hip. Or their mother shrinks to skin and bones before their very eyes. Then it becomes interesting. Then the mystery becomes worthy of their attention. And they start asking questions. What is that disease called, you know the one where you can't eat bread?

Celiac disease is sadly under diagnosed. Millions have it and don't know it. And that translates to an epidemic of silent suffering- a lot of mysterious malnourishment, anemia, and osteoporosis. A lot of migraines, depression, infertility, and blistery skin rashes in unmentionable locations. A lot of bloating and Pepto Bismol chugging. But hey.

We know you don't want to hear about it.

So forgive us, please.

Forgive us for living with a autoimmune disease whose only cure is a gluten-free diet. Forgive us for focusing so much on food- our only medicine. Our breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Our daily bread. Forgive us for asking questions in restaurants. Forgive us for feeling awkward at social events where food is ubiquitous, and family parties, where your disbelief and denial can make us sick for three days.

Forgive us for getting excited when a new recipe works, and our daughter can eat a chocolate chip cookie that isn't going to make her ill. Forgive us for sending our son to school with gluten-free vegan cupcakes for the class. Forgive us for wanting our children to feel like they belong and contribute.

Forgive us our passion for gluten-free food that fills our bellies and lightens our souls. Just a little.

Because to those of us who must live gluten-free- every day of our life- food is no small thing.

Food is precious.



Read more + get the recipe >>

reade more... Résuméabuiyad

Easy Homemade Chocolate Sauce – I Really Wanted To Call This Hot Fudge

I would have gotten more search engine juice had I named this, “Hot Fudge Sauce,” but it wouldn’t have been technically correct, and you know what a stickler I am for using precise terminology (if you’re new to the blog, that was an attempt at self-effacing humor). 

So, while it’s true I generally play fast and loose with recipe titles, when they really do mean different things, I try to come correct.

What makes this a chocolate sauce, and not hot fudge, is the fact that it doesn’t firm up when it hits the ice cream. True hot fudge sauce is actually melted, liquefied fudge, and by the time it finishes its slow slalom down the side of your sundae, it will resemble its namesake.

Hot fudge requires the sauce to be cooked to a specific temperature, for a certain time, and is generally a trickier operation than the simple sauce you see here. Like I said in the video, I’m sure we will eventually do a hot fudge video, but in the meantime, this ultra easy chocolate sauce should work fine.

Unlike hot fudge, chocolate sauce (aka chocolate syrup) will stay in liquid form even after it hits the cold, creamy stuff. Of course it gets a bit thicker as it cools, but it will not harden into actual fudge. If you are looking for comparisons, this may remind you of a thicker version of a certain canned chocolate syrup from Pennsylvania.

Anyway, if you are a regular buyer of store-bought chocolate sauce, and didn’t realize how easy it is to make your own at home, then I hope you give this recipe a try. Enjoy!

Makes about 1 1/2 cups of Chocolate Sauce

3/4 cup sugar

1 1/2 tablespoons flour

1/2 cup high-quality, unsweetened cocoa powder

1 1/4 cups milk

2 tablespoons butter

1/2 teaspoon vanilla, or to taste

tiny pinch of salt

View the complete recipe

I would have gotten more search engine juice had I named this, “Hot Fudge Sauce,” but it wouldn’t have been technically correct, and you know what a stickler I am for using precise terminology (if you’re new to the blog, that was an attempt at self-effacing humor). 

So, while it’s true I generally play fast and loose with recipe titles, when they really do mean different things, I try to come correct.

What makes this a chocolate sauce, and not hot fudge, is the fact that it doesn’t firm up when it hits the ice cream. True hot fudge sauce is actually melted, liquefied fudge, and by the time it finishes its slow slalom down the side of your sundae, it will resemble its namesake.

Hot fudge requires the sauce to be cooked to a specific temperature, for a certain time, and is generally a trickier operation than the simple sauce you see here. Like I said in the video, I’m sure we will eventually do a hot fudge video, but in the meantime, this ultra easy chocolate sauce should work fine.

Unlike hot fudge, chocolate sauce (aka chocolate syrup) will stay in liquid form even after it hits the cold, creamy stuff. Of course it gets a bit thicker as it cools, but it will not harden into actual fudge. If you are looking for comparisons, this may remind you of a thicker version of a certain canned chocolate syrup from Pennsylvania.

Anyway, if you are a regular buyer of store-bought chocolate sauce, and didn’t realize how easy it is to make your own at home, then I hope you give this recipe a try. Enjoy!

Makes about 1 1/2 cups of Chocolate Sauce

3/4 cup sugar

1 1/2 tablespoons flour

1/2 cup high-quality, unsweetened cocoa powder

1 1/4 cups milk

2 tablespoons butter

1/2 teaspoon vanilla, or to taste

tiny pinch of salt

View the complete recipe

reade more... Résuméabuiyad

Gluten-Free Vanilla Cornbread Recipe

A wedge of vanilla cornbread. Gluten-free yum.

This is not your average weeknight cornbread. You know, the one you toss together from a gluten-free mix to serve with a bowl of white chicken chili as you catch up with Mad Men season four. Nope. This tender cake-like cornbread is a pinch more elegant. A gently sweet treat you might serve at high tea with a gaggle of girlfriends (or low tea, depending upon the company you keep). Picture fresh cut flowers on the table, stemmed glasses filled with dewy fresh berries, a pot of Earl Grey tea or organic chamomile buds steeping beneath a cozy.

This is the sort of cornbread that begs to be served with style. That longs to be gussied up. The kind of cornbread you eat with a fork.

A cornbread that secretly dreams of being cake.

Read more + get the recipe >>

A wedge of vanilla cornbread. Gluten-free yum.

This is not your average weeknight cornbread. You know, the one you toss together from a gluten-free mix to serve with a bowl of white chicken chili as you catch up with Mad Men season four. Nope. This tender cake-like cornbread is a pinch more elegant. A gently sweet treat you might serve at high tea with a gaggle of girlfriends (or low tea, depending upon the company you keep). Picture fresh cut flowers on the table, stemmed glasses filled with dewy fresh berries, a pot of Earl Grey tea or organic chamomile buds steeping beneath a cozy.

This is the sort of cornbread that begs to be served with style. That longs to be gussied up. The kind of cornbread you eat with a fork.

A cornbread that secretly dreams of being cake.

Read more + get the recipe >>

reade more... Résuméabuiyad

Savory Bacon & Crab Bread Pudding Eggs Benedict – Sometimes the Best Recipes Are the Ones You Don’t Make

This incredibly delicious bacon and crab bread pudding Benedict almost never happened. The original request was for crab cake eggs Benedict, but since we’d already done crab cakes, poached eggs, and hollandaise videos, I decided to go in another direction, while still somewhat honoring the aforementioned food wish.

It’s one of the best decisions I’ve ever made, and that includes growing the mustache. Not only do I think this is far superior to crab cake eggs Benedict, it’s way easier, and you get a lot more mileage out of the same amount of crab.

I only used four-ounces of crab, which would have made just two small crab cakes. Here it was enough for two large ramekins that seemed to be loaded with crab. Instead of just sitting on top of the English muffin, the crab flavor permeated the bread cubes during the baking time, and the results were spectacular.

This would certainly make any brunch special, especially a Mother’s Day brunch, which will be here before you know it. So, whether you’re desperately trying to finally gain your mother’s approval, or just want something awesome for breakfast, I hope you give this a try soon. Enjoy!

Ingredients for 2 portions (I used 10 oz ramekins):

3 cups small dry bread cubes or plain croutons

1 tsp vegetable oil

1 strip bacon, sliced

1/4 cup minced onion

1/4 cup minced red bell pepper

1/3 cup chicken broth or water (more as needed)

1/3 cup cream

1 tsp fresh lemon zest

juice of 1/2 lemon

1 tbsp fresh chopped tarragon
1 large egg 
4 oz fresh crab meat

salt and pepper to taste

cayenne to taste

2 or 4 poached eggs

1/4 cup hollandaise sauce

View the complete recipe

This incredibly delicious bacon and crab bread pudding Benedict almost never happened. The original request was for crab cake eggs Benedict, but since we’d already done crab cakes, poached eggs, and hollandaise videos, I decided to go in another direction, while still somewhat honoring the aforementioned food wish.

It’s one of the best decisions I’ve ever made, and that includes growing the mustache. Not only do I think this is far superior to crab cake eggs Benedict, it’s way easier, and you get a lot more mileage out of the same amount of crab.

I only used four-ounces of crab, which would have made just two small crab cakes. Here it was enough for two large ramekins that seemed to be loaded with crab. Instead of just sitting on top of the English muffin, the crab flavor permeated the bread cubes during the baking time, and the results were spectacular.

This would certainly make any brunch special, especially a Mother’s Day brunch, which will be here before you know it. So, whether you’re desperately trying to finally gain your mother’s approval, or just want something awesome for breakfast, I hope you give this a try soon. Enjoy!

Ingredients for 2 portions (I used 10 oz ramekins):

3 cups small dry bread cubes or plain croutons

1 tsp vegetable oil

1 strip bacon, sliced

1/4 cup minced onion

1/4 cup minced red bell pepper

1/3 cup chicken broth or water (more as needed)

1/3 cup cream

1 tsp fresh lemon zest

juice of 1/2 lemon

1 tbsp fresh chopped tarragon
1 large egg 
4 oz fresh crab meat

salt and pepper to taste

cayenne to taste

2 or 4 poached eggs

1/4 cup hollandaise sauce

View the complete recipe

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Quinoa with Roasted Brussels Sprouts, Leeks and Slivered Almonds

Gluten-free quinoa with Brussels sprouts, leeks and almonds.

If you've been hanging with me for awhile here on Gluten-Free Goddess, you already know how much I dig quinoa. It's one of my favorite gluten-free grains. I've grown to love- even crave- quinoa's distinct smoky-nutty flavor. More assertive than rice or oatmeal, the taste of quinoa gives gluten-free baked goods and grainy side dishes a certain je ne sais quoi that feels nourishing, healthy, and satisfying all at once. In a very understated, happy blue skies kind of way, I mean.

Not in a pious eat-this-it's-good-for-you kind of way.

Though I'm sure there are plenty of quinoa converts that proselytize its admirable qualities in the nutrition arena (and why not? Its protein profile is a vegan's wet dream) I prefer to love my quinoa on its own unassuming terms. Even though folks have dubbed her Queen of Grains and Mother of all Vegan Goodness in the Bunny Scampering Universe, I love her just because. Without projection. Without expectation. Or assumption.

I meet quinoa where she stands. I accept her for who she is. In all her cute as a button faux grain glory. After all, her botanical name is Goosefoot. Not a very glamorous moniker. Imagine being saddled with that one.

Hey, you! Goosefoot. That's right. I'm talking to you.

Sweet Mother Mary. Can you imagine? No wonder she chose to change her name. Keen-wa is so much sexier.

So Quinoa, honey. What are you doing tonight? Wanna come over? I've got some Adele.

You can even stay for breakfast.

Read more + get the recipe >>

Gluten-free quinoa with Brussels sprouts, leeks and almonds.

If you've been hanging with me for awhile here on Gluten-Free Goddess, you already know how much I dig quinoa. It's one of my favorite gluten-free grains. I've grown to love- even crave- quinoa's distinct smoky-nutty flavor. More assertive than rice or oatmeal, the taste of quinoa gives gluten-free baked goods and grainy side dishes a certain je ne sais quoi that feels nourishing, healthy, and satisfying all at once. In a very understated, happy blue skies kind of way, I mean.

Not in a pious eat-this-it's-good-for-you kind of way.

Though I'm sure there are plenty of quinoa converts that proselytize its admirable qualities in the nutrition arena (and why not? Its protein profile is a vegan's wet dream) I prefer to love my quinoa on its own unassuming terms. Even though folks have dubbed her Queen of Grains and Mother of all Vegan Goodness in the Bunny Scampering Universe, I love her just because. Without projection. Without expectation. Or assumption.

I meet quinoa where she stands. I accept her for who she is. In all her cute as a button faux grain glory. After all, her botanical name is Goosefoot. Not a very glamorous moniker. Imagine being saddled with that one.

Hey, you! Goosefoot. That's right. I'm talking to you.

Sweet Mother Mary. Can you imagine? No wonder she chose to change her name. Keen-wa is so much sexier.

So Quinoa, honey. What are you doing tonight? Wanna come over? I've got some Adele.

You can even stay for breakfast.

Read more + get the recipe >>

reade more... Résuméabuiyad