I do my best creating on the fly. You know, when I have people coming over in an hour and I haven't planned anything let alone know if there is even anything in my cupboards. Oh, and the house needed tidying and dinner had to be made still. Or when my husband tells me at 10 o'clock at night that tomorrow is a potluck at work. Or my favorite, when my husband calls and says that he is bringing over four coworkers, who will be hungry and to whip together some dessert or snacky stuff and I'm still in my pajamas and there is dirt three weeks thick everywhere. Yeah... that kind of fly.
Thankfully that is usually when I rise to the occasion. A skill I have gained from watching my sister in the kitchen. She can make something out of nothing taste like it's off a five star restaurant menu. That girl has mad skills.
Last night was one of those times that I needed to fly... or at least create something on the fly. We had friends coming over in an hour and we had been out shopping all day - with THREE KIDS! Dessert was a must, and I had no idea what to make. That's when I stumbled on this recipe that I had printed off ages ago, and went to work. Of course it wasn't going to work for me the way it was. I didn't have the quick oats required, I'm allergic to dairy, I didn't have time to make the blueberries and well, I'm a sucker for coconut.
Thankfully I did have my trusty all time favorite substitute: coconut oil (yep, I love coconut), a jar of organic raspberry preserves and some regular oats, so I went to work. I had also remembered that last time I made a similar style bar, there was not enough topping, so I tweaked the ratios as well. Yea, I can't leave anything alone.
And yes, the pressure was on too. Right after I popped these in the oven, my husband took the chicken out of the fridge to prepare it for the grill, only to find that our entire package of organic chicken had gone bad. WAY BAD! Yeah for the sausages I happened to throw in the cart even though they weren't on my list. We still had dinner, but I really wanted these bars to turn out to resurrect the whole thing.
And oh did they. They are my new favorite!!! Chewy, soft, crumbly, sweet, slightly tart, coconut amazingness all wrapped up in a nice square. And did I mention that they are refined sugar free, dairy free, and made with whole grains?
Raspberry Coconut Squares
Makes as many as you want out of a 9x13 pan.
3 cups Oats
1 1/2 Whole Wheat Pastry Flour
3/4 cup plus 1/4 cup Unsweetened shredded coconut
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp Baking Soda
1 cup Sugar (I used 3/4 cup coconut sugar and 1/4 cup turbinado)
1/2 cup coconut oil
1/2 cup coconut cream
3/4 cup-1 cup Raspberry preserves
Directions:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees and grease a 9x13 pan (I used coconut oil). Place oats in a blender or food processor and process till coarsely chopped but not fine as flour. Pour into large bowl and combine with flour, salt, baking soda, sugar and 3/4 cup coconut. Cut in coconut oil and cream until it resembles a fine crumb (feel free to add more coconut cream if needed or desired to get a nice crumb). Press 2/3 of crumb mixture into the pan and press down. Pour preserves over the top and spread evenly (use more preserves if you want a thicker raspberry layer and less if you want to keep it lighter). Then crumble remaining crumb mixture over the top and sprinkle with 1/4 cup of coconut. Bake for approximately 40 minutes and let cool before cutting and serving.
I hope you enjoy these as much as I did, am and will. Yes, I am eating one as I type this. I've earned it, I'm working hard.
28 August, 2013
25 April, 2013
The Loved Adulteress
I was asked to give my testimony this week, and after struggling to put into words my love story with my savior, this is what finally came out.
The
Loved Adulteress
At
the age of three I was marked
For
His kingdom- the daughter of the king
In
my heart, the Spirit sparked
And
I responded to His call with bended knee
Within
He placed a heart for song
And
the desire to praise my King
Life
was hard yet still I clung
To
the One who had set me free
But
one day the pain went deep
And
fear through my heart did seep
And
although His praises were on my tongue
In
my heart to other’s I sung
I
was looking for value and love
In
those around – in man
You
see I am the adulterous woman
When
even though she had loves embrace
Chose
to look into another’s face
Yet
He stood by, faithful and true
Waiting
for me to see His gentle clue
That
my value is in Him alone
And
no matter where I looked
I
was left feeling empty and alone
Despite
ever growing fear,
He
gently whispered in my ear
“Come
my daughter, I am right here”
So
I responded again to His call
As
deep calls to deep, my spirit lives
And
in Him I know there is truth
That
He is mine and I am His
The
struggles have not left me yet
Still
I get confused and my eyes fall
But
when I quiet my soul
There
is His gentle voice, calling me
Our
story is of love so deep and true
That
it has withstood the test
Of
one who is unfaithful at best
But
it is not over by far
Because
it is by His grace I am here at all.
31 August, 2012
180 Degrees: New Perspective New Life
Since I can remember, I have been one of those people that likes to have my hardships acknowledged. I have the need for people to recognize my struggles. It isn't excuses; it is the need to have someone praise my effort more than the result. I know why, too. Praise was rarely given in my home. Instead of a sincere gratitude for the effort that was put in, my attempts at all life was rewarded with the same response: "Look at what you could have done if you had applied yourself better." I called it the white glove syndrome. I could spend hours cleaning something with a tooth brush, and the one small spot that was missed would be noticed. And yes, I have specific instances that are seared in my mind. The result: paralysis. The mode: fear. FEAR is what began to rule every area of my life.
The question is begging to be asked. How can something as simple as not receiving enough affirmation result in fear paralyzing your entire life? It is in the bleed. Like the corner of a napkin on a punch spill, a parched soul soaks up what ever it is watered by. My soul was watered by fear.
So much of life is about effort. We are fallen beings in a fallen world. We do not have hope of ever accomplishing anything of our own effort because our best is as "dirty rags" (Isaiah 64:6 and Romans 3:23). So our natural response, or at least mine, is to search for recognition for our effort. Since we can't accomplish perfection, at least we can be recognized for trying. And so my psyche was formed. As a young child my response to lack of praise was that I would try my hardest. But even that was not enough. I was parched; I was starving. And then the fear that was already prevalent in my life from other circumstances began to bleed in. Why try? It won't be enough anyway. I was afraid to fail. But worse than failing was my fear of succeeding. Because with success came a new standard I would be held to and even more would be expected from me; a much scarier possibility.
So how does one respond to such an overwhelming fear? Excuses, of course. My rationale goes like this: If they knew my hardships, my adversities, all that I've worked through to get this far then they can forgive my imperfections. If people only knew the effort I have put into this, then they would love me, accept me, praise me; then my thirsty soul would finally drink.
And so I have lived, balancing the need for acknowledgment with a fear of failing. Balancing between a fear that paralyzes and the need to accomplish perfection. The result: running in place - going nowhere. And so I thirst, grabbing onto every drop of praise or anything like it I can find. Clinging on for dear life. Praying for rain, but looking for it from the smog instead of the clouds.
You see the reality looks very different on the outside. My thirst and longing for praise resulted in explanation and excuses - a soul begging for water from my perspective. But the actual observer interprets it as complaining and pride. The usual response to my thirst: criticism or disdain? No, worse: rejection - salt on a thirsty, dry, wounded soul. And so as the salt was poured on, the search for water grew more intense. The route for search did not change though and thus the cycle of my thirsty soul sits. Yes, the watering has been there. Otherwise, I would be dead. But the rainfall, the wellspring, life, I thirstily long for and wait for. Search for.
And then, after years of dehydration, I stumbled on the answer. In a book about gratitude. A book I have been trying to read through for the past year. On a night when I am supposed to be "working". I read it:
I believe that when I get rid of fear and focus on the blessings that he gives I will be free to recieve the praise, love and acceptance that I have been offered. Since fear paralyzes trust, then I will be free to trust what He says when He says "I LOVE YOU".
And what does He say to me tonight:
If you are interested in the book by Anne Voskamp please visit her website. Although I have only gotten to page 151, I have to say that her thoughts challenge at the core of who you are and your view of life and Christianity in all the right ways. http://www.aholyexperience.com
The question is begging to be asked. How can something as simple as not receiving enough affirmation result in fear paralyzing your entire life? It is in the bleed. Like the corner of a napkin on a punch spill, a parched soul soaks up what ever it is watered by. My soul was watered by fear.
So much of life is about effort. We are fallen beings in a fallen world. We do not have hope of ever accomplishing anything of our own effort because our best is as "dirty rags" (Isaiah 64:6 and Romans 3:23). So our natural response, or at least mine, is to search for recognition for our effort. Since we can't accomplish perfection, at least we can be recognized for trying. And so my psyche was formed. As a young child my response to lack of praise was that I would try my hardest. But even that was not enough. I was parched; I was starving. And then the fear that was already prevalent in my life from other circumstances began to bleed in. Why try? It won't be enough anyway. I was afraid to fail. But worse than failing was my fear of succeeding. Because with success came a new standard I would be held to and even more would be expected from me; a much scarier possibility.
So how does one respond to such an overwhelming fear? Excuses, of course. My rationale goes like this: If they knew my hardships, my adversities, all that I've worked through to get this far then they can forgive my imperfections. If people only knew the effort I have put into this, then they would love me, accept me, praise me; then my thirsty soul would finally drink.
And so I have lived, balancing the need for acknowledgment with a fear of failing. Balancing between a fear that paralyzes and the need to accomplish perfection. The result: running in place - going nowhere. And so I thirst, grabbing onto every drop of praise or anything like it I can find. Clinging on for dear life. Praying for rain, but looking for it from the smog instead of the clouds.
You see the reality looks very different on the outside. My thirst and longing for praise resulted in explanation and excuses - a soul begging for water from my perspective. But the actual observer interprets it as complaining and pride. The usual response to my thirst: criticism or disdain? No, worse: rejection - salt on a thirsty, dry, wounded soul. And so as the salt was poured on, the search for water grew more intense. The route for search did not change though and thus the cycle of my thirsty soul sits. Yes, the watering has been there. Otherwise, I would be dead. But the rainfall, the wellspring, life, I thirstily long for and wait for. Search for.
And then, after years of dehydration, I stumbled on the answer. In a book about gratitude. A book I have been trying to read through for the past year. On a night when I am supposed to be "working". I read it:
A lifestyle of intentional gratitude became an unintentional test in the trustworthiness of God - and in counting blessings I stumbled upon the way out of fear.
Anne VoskampThere it was on page 151 in One Thousand Gifts. By counting my struggles I was actually complaining and by complaining I was telling God he was untrustworthy. My fear had resulted in complaining, and the only way to overcome the fear, to free myself from the paralyzation and thirst was to do the opposite. To count my blessings. To say thanks. To acknowledge that it isn't me, that I can't do it myself and my effort isn't enough and that that is OK. When I take my eyes off of what I "have suffered", off my struggle and look at what He has done, what He has suffered and say THANK YOU, I am suddenly free.
I believe that when I get rid of fear and focus on the blessings that he gives I will be free to recieve the praise, love and acceptance that I have been offered. Since fear paralyzes trust, then I will be free to trust what He says when He says "I LOVE YOU".
And what does He say to me tonight:
Restrain your voice from weeping and your eyes from tears; For your work will be rewarded..." Jeremiah 31:16The verse I just happened to open to tonight. And so 180 degrees later, I say thank you, for my blessings are many. My daily struggles are no longer laundry to be aired, they are the chance for me to look at my blessings and see the good He has done. And from there I will be free from the need for your or anyone else's praise or acceptance. Oh, may my soul quench its thirst in the only true water that is (John 4:14)
If you are interested in the book by Anne Voskamp please visit her website. Although I have only gotten to page 151, I have to say that her thoughts challenge at the core of who you are and your view of life and Christianity in all the right ways. http://www.aholyexperience.com
01 June, 2012
Same Story. Same Pain... Different Outcome. Stronger Repellant.
Today I saw some pictures that reminded me of family favoritism. It amazes me that even today, I'm thirty and my husband is 33, I see the same dynamics in our families as we experienced growing up. The strange part is that now the favoritism is bleeding into our children. As much as it hurts to see, from years of pain, I have come to the point where I can say "C'est la vie... their loss."
It is hard to explain favoritism to someone unless they have been on the unfavored side. I have found very few people who truly understand the dynamic. I can't tell you how relieving it is when I am around someone who not only understands, but actually sees it without me having to explain (those friends are very close indeed). I have also found that the favored one's blame it all on perspective. Having not received the "unfavor," their eyes don't even pick up the subtleness of favoritism. I used to be angry at them for not seeing it. Now I count them blessed.
Thankfully, I married someone who knows well the "joys" of the unfavored side and can support me. Sadly, it also means that I walked from one family of pain and rejection into another. The wounds, just healing from years of my own walk on the outside, have been violently gashed open, then subtly picked at and salted.
But as the wounds scab over and the healing process continues I watch as the same people who have favored our siblings over us inadvertently favor their kids over ours. It is small things, ones I pray our children never pick up. I pray that their eyes are blind to these subtle behaviors because they have not been opened by my own favoritism. As I parent, I am ever aware of my heart, my frustrations and behaviors. I do not seek to be fair or even, but instead to love each one whole heartedly for who they are. To take joy in their differences, embrace their unique gifts and gently mold their quirky weaknesses. Are there days where I am closer to one than the others? Yes, but I take it in stride knowing that by tomorrow, that same difficult child will be the one helping me as I grin and bear the quirks of another. My heart's desire is that they are oblivious to favoritism because they are so secure in my husband's and my love for them, that the nuances of the moment are just that... momentary - not something that affects their core.
So, as I see those subtle behaviors, I take a deep breath. I look at my children. And I remember, that I am here. I get to be with them. I get to watch their differences, I get to experience their unique gifts and I am bound to deal with their quirky weaknesses at all moments. In ending the cycle, I find healing from my wounds. In healing, I find strength. And in strength, I am less easily wounded. Ending the cycle gives hope, and hope is my repellant.
25 May, 2012
A Thousands Words - Otherwise Known as My Therapy Session
It started soon after the birth of my firstborn. After he fell asleep, I would steal into the office, slump into the uncomfortable chair a watch the screen saver - pictures of our little baby. My husband would walk in minutes later and find himself mesmerized as well. Sometimes we would sit there for 20 or more minutes. And as we sat there, the weight of the day would begin to melt away, our hearts would begin to mend, and we would remember what was important and actually kind of like our little boy.
See, in the craziness of they day, between the loads of laundry, dishes, feedings, changings, bills, yard work, projects, crying and whatever else went on, it was easy to loose sight of what mattered. It didn't help that I was averaging 4 hours of sleep total, usually in 30 minute intervals, a day, breastfeeding on average 9 hours a day and dealing with a kid that wouldn't sleep. Let's just say I wasn't to thrilled with my bundle of joy by the time I was ready for bed.
But some how, looking at the pictures was like salve on my wounds. And afterwords, I was ready to face another sleepless night. Five years, and two kids later, and it still works. The tasks have only increased, but somehow, the effect is the same. Seeing their smiles, their scrunchy noses or the playful poses reminds me of how unique, precious and amazing they are. And most important, that they are worth every bit of stress, exhaustion, and frustration.
So, I thought I would share some of my therapy with you... in a thousand words...
See, in the craziness of they day, between the loads of laundry, dishes, feedings, changings, bills, yard work, projects, crying and whatever else went on, it was easy to loose sight of what mattered. It didn't help that I was averaging 4 hours of sleep total, usually in 30 minute intervals, a day, breastfeeding on average 9 hours a day and dealing with a kid that wouldn't sleep. Let's just say I wasn't to thrilled with my bundle of joy by the time I was ready for bed.
But some how, looking at the pictures was like salve on my wounds. And afterwords, I was ready to face another sleepless night. Five years, and two kids later, and it still works. The tasks have only increased, but somehow, the effect is the same. Seeing their smiles, their scrunchy noses or the playful poses reminds me of how unique, precious and amazing they are. And most important, that they are worth every bit of stress, exhaustion, and frustration.
So, I thought I would share some of my therapy with you... in a thousand words...
21 March, 2012
Life is Real- Chocolate Chip Cookies Make it Better
My kitchen floor is covered in brown spots, I have a mat in the laundry because a child pooped on it, the kitchen sink has dishes from breakfast and last night, and I have a laundry list of things to do, so when I ask my daughter what she wants to do today and she says, "make cookies," of course that is exactly what we did. We baked cookies.
You see life never stops. I have spent too much time looking around the bend, saying next week will be easier, next month won't be so busy or next year I'll be able to do that, and well it hasn't happened. Life just seems to fill up quicker than I can... well fill up. Finding time to eat is almost impossible. Finding moment's of rest or time to recharge are few and far between. So, there are time's that I need that quick pick me up. Something that feels good, that cheers up my spirit and fuels me to go on. What could possibly be better than a chocolate chip cookie to do just that?
"Ooh, ooh, pick me. Pick me! I know!" How about cookies that taste like heaven and are actually healthy. It is not possible they say. I say it is!
You see I am a snob... a food snob. When I make things, I usually have a long lists of must and must nots that every recipe is scrutinized by before I will even consider making it. For instance, with cookies, I want them to be low sugar, low fat, whole grain, soft and chewy and well... I still want them to taste good. As if the list wasn't hard enough to accomplish, now that we reduced our intake of eggs and dairy, I am even more limited. To my absolute surprise... and I really mean absolute surprise, because I usually end up giving up or just making it up as I go, I actually found a recipe that met most of those. Ok, so I'm not perfect. I still totally tweaked it to make it fit our needs. But the concept is still there. And in my opinion the result is even better. Cookies that you can drop everything to bake, because when are doing all the stuff you should have been doing, grabbing one of these baby's to help you get through it all will be worth it. And yes, after trying to bake cookies with a one year old and a three year old, that is exactly what I needed. A little pick me up as I swept the floor for the third time and watched my daughter eat spoonfuls of baking soda. Good times - real life.
Chocolate Chip Oatmeal Cookies
1/4 cup coconut oil, melted
1/4 + 3 Table spoons apple sauce
1/3 cup honey
1 Tbs Vanilla Extract
1 cup whole wheat flour ( I like white whole wheat)
2 Tbs ground flax seeds
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 tsp baking soda
1 cup rolled oats
1/3 cup chocolate chips
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Combine wet ingredients in a bowl. Add flour, flax, cinnamon, salt, and soda and stir just until combined. Fold in oats and chocolate chips. Drop by rounded tablespoon onto a cookie sheet (I bake mine on a baking mat) and press down slightly. Bake for approximately 12 minutes or until they look firm and the edges begin to brown. Cool on a wire rack.
You see life never stops. I have spent too much time looking around the bend, saying next week will be easier, next month won't be so busy or next year I'll be able to do that, and well it hasn't happened. Life just seems to fill up quicker than I can... well fill up. Finding time to eat is almost impossible. Finding moment's of rest or time to recharge are few and far between. So, there are time's that I need that quick pick me up. Something that feels good, that cheers up my spirit and fuels me to go on. What could possibly be better than a chocolate chip cookie to do just that?
"Ooh, ooh, pick me. Pick me! I know!" How about cookies that taste like heaven and are actually healthy. It is not possible they say. I say it is!
You see I am a snob... a food snob. When I make things, I usually have a long lists of must and must nots that every recipe is scrutinized by before I will even consider making it. For instance, with cookies, I want them to be low sugar, low fat, whole grain, soft and chewy and well... I still want them to taste good. As if the list wasn't hard enough to accomplish, now that we reduced our intake of eggs and dairy, I am even more limited. To my absolute surprise... and I really mean absolute surprise, because I usually end up giving up or just making it up as I go, I actually found a recipe that met most of those. Ok, so I'm not perfect. I still totally tweaked it to make it fit our needs. But the concept is still there. And in my opinion the result is even better. Cookies that you can drop everything to bake, because when are doing all the stuff you should have been doing, grabbing one of these baby's to help you get through it all will be worth it. And yes, after trying to bake cookies with a one year old and a three year old, that is exactly what I needed. A little pick me up as I swept the floor for the third time and watched my daughter eat spoonfuls of baking soda. Good times - real life.
But the smiles she gave while eating them... even better than the cookies.
Oh, and by the way. Family secret- double the batch and throw half in the freezer. Then you will have tasty pick me ups even when you can't drop it all and bake these cookies. |
| My Helper |
Chocolate Chip Oatmeal Cookies
1/4 cup coconut oil, melted
1/4 + 3 Table spoons apple sauce
1/3 cup honey
1 Tbs Vanilla Extract
1 cup whole wheat flour ( I like white whole wheat)
2 Tbs ground flax seeds
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 tsp baking soda
1 cup rolled oats
1/3 cup chocolate chips
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Combine wet ingredients in a bowl. Add flour, flax, cinnamon, salt, and soda and stir just until combined. Fold in oats and chocolate chips. Drop by rounded tablespoon onto a cookie sheet (I bake mine on a baking mat) and press down slightly. Bake for approximately 12 minutes or until they look firm and the edges begin to brown. Cool on a wire rack.
07 March, 2012
Comfort food without the guilt
Have you ever noticed that all comfort food is really... really... REALLY bad for you! Let's just name a few: macaroni and cheese, baked potato soup, fried chicken, meatloaf, mashed potatoes, apple pie and one of my favorites, broccoli soup. Every one of these is loaded with either sugar, fat or processed flours. Thus the reason we so often feel heavy with calories and guilt after eating them.
The funny thing, is that a lot of the comfort foods start out with healthy ingredients. So why is it that pasta with a sprinkle of cheese, grilled chicken, lean beef, baked potatoes, an apple, or steamed broccoli aren't comforting? Is is possible that at the true comfort foods are sugar, fat and processed food? I don't know many people that would feel comforted if I set a cube of fat and sugar on their plate when they were blue and would think "yeah for me".
So now the question that has to be asked, is how do we put the "food" back into comfort food. I've been struggling with this lately as I have been craving broccoli soup.
I used to not like broccoli, till I learned how good it was for you, and forced myself to like it. Now I have learned to actually enjoy it, in certain contexts. My favorite is broccoli soup. I used to think that I did a pretty good job of making it too... with lower fat milk and well ok... I put a cup of cheese in it. There isn't any way that it was good for me. But it was sooo good, and as I ate it, it made me happy. It truly was comforting.
But now, as we have tried to change our food choices to less animal proteins I look at my once favorite soup as a trap. How was I to fulfill my craving for creamy goodness with something that actually had goodness in it?
My first attempt was so terrible that I actually sent it home with my in-laws (God bless them, they will eat anything). I had tried to recreate the soup's creaminess with pureed cashews and the result felt nutty, chalky and heavy. So it was back to the drawing board.
Actually, I had put the whole thing on the back burner, and stumbled across my broccoli soup fulfillment on complete accident. After buying a beautiful cauliflower, some broccoli and leeks at my local farmer's market I realized that I had no idea how I was going to use them. At first I planned on a casserole, but when I realized that I would need the oven to bake my bread, a soup was the next best thing. So, with a fridge full of vegetables and a stiff upper lip (I haven't been the most successful lately so I had to put on my brave face), I began to create.
Oh, so glad I did. The soup was amazing. Comforting and creamy, full of broccoli flavor but without the weighed down feeling... Oh, maybe that's because there isn't a single thing in it that could remotely cause guilt. YES, I did it. I made comfort food that made me feel light as a feather, yet surprisingly grounded at the same time. Ha... sounds like I am talking about a recreational drug not soup. But then again. Comfort food is just that- recreational drugs we use to lift our spirits and ground us at the same time. And if by chance you become addicted to this soup, don't feel guilty. It's good for you.
Broccoli Leek Soup
1 Large Leek, thinly sliced (onions would work if you don't have any leeks)
4 cloves garlic, chopped
1 small head broccoli, chopped
1/2 a small cauliflower, chopped
5 small potatoes, cut in bite size pieces
3 stalks celery, thinly sliced
2 tsp vegetable bullion
1 tsp oil
Water
Salt and pepper to taste
In a large pot, sauté leeks and celery until tender. Add garlic cook till fragrant. Toss in broccoli, cauliflower, and potatoes. Fill the pan with water until vegetables are just covered. Cook until the broccoli and cauliflower begin to fall apart when stirred. Add vegetable bullion and stir. Place 1/3 of soup in a blender and blend till smooth, then return to pot. Stir together and add fresh ground black pepper and salt to taste.
The funny thing, is that a lot of the comfort foods start out with healthy ingredients. So why is it that pasta with a sprinkle of cheese, grilled chicken, lean beef, baked potatoes, an apple, or steamed broccoli aren't comforting? Is is possible that at the true comfort foods are sugar, fat and processed food? I don't know many people that would feel comforted if I set a cube of fat and sugar on their plate when they were blue and would think "yeah for me".
So now the question that has to be asked, is how do we put the "food" back into comfort food. I've been struggling with this lately as I have been craving broccoli soup.
I used to not like broccoli, till I learned how good it was for you, and forced myself to like it. Now I have learned to actually enjoy it, in certain contexts. My favorite is broccoli soup. I used to think that I did a pretty good job of making it too... with lower fat milk and well ok... I put a cup of cheese in it. There isn't any way that it was good for me. But it was sooo good, and as I ate it, it made me happy. It truly was comforting.
But now, as we have tried to change our food choices to less animal proteins I look at my once favorite soup as a trap. How was I to fulfill my craving for creamy goodness with something that actually had goodness in it?
My first attempt was so terrible that I actually sent it home with my in-laws (God bless them, they will eat anything). I had tried to recreate the soup's creaminess with pureed cashews and the result felt nutty, chalky and heavy. So it was back to the drawing board.
Actually, I had put the whole thing on the back burner, and stumbled across my broccoli soup fulfillment on complete accident. After buying a beautiful cauliflower, some broccoli and leeks at my local farmer's market I realized that I had no idea how I was going to use them. At first I planned on a casserole, but when I realized that I would need the oven to bake my bread, a soup was the next best thing. So, with a fridge full of vegetables and a stiff upper lip (I haven't been the most successful lately so I had to put on my brave face), I began to create.
Oh, so glad I did. The soup was amazing. Comforting and creamy, full of broccoli flavor but without the weighed down feeling... Oh, maybe that's because there isn't a single thing in it that could remotely cause guilt. YES, I did it. I made comfort food that made me feel light as a feather, yet surprisingly grounded at the same time. Ha... sounds like I am talking about a recreational drug not soup. But then again. Comfort food is just that- recreational drugs we use to lift our spirits and ground us at the same time. And if by chance you become addicted to this soup, don't feel guilty. It's good for you.
Broccoli Leek Soup
1 Large Leek, thinly sliced (onions would work if you don't have any leeks)
4 cloves garlic, chopped
1 small head broccoli, chopped
1/2 a small cauliflower, chopped
5 small potatoes, cut in bite size pieces
3 stalks celery, thinly sliced
2 tsp vegetable bullion
1 tsp oil
Water
Salt and pepper to taste
In a large pot, sauté leeks and celery until tender. Add garlic cook till fragrant. Toss in broccoli, cauliflower, and potatoes. Fill the pan with water until vegetables are just covered. Cook until the broccoli and cauliflower begin to fall apart when stirred. Add vegetable bullion and stir. Place 1/3 of soup in a blender and blend till smooth, then return to pot. Stir together and add fresh ground black pepper and salt to taste.
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