Vegetarian Meatballs

100_3355 copy“Why do we call them meatballs when there’s no meat in them?”

A fair question, from my daughter one day as I stood in the kitchen making one of the family’s favourite meals—spaghetti with meatballs.

Of course, as vegetarians, our meatballs contain no animal muscle tissue whatsoever. Their effect on the gustatory pleasure centres is comparable to a good traditional meatball, though, so the name sticks.

When I was breast feeding my son (13 years ago!), there were very few foods I could eat without causing him colic. It took eight weeks of round-the-clock screaming for me to work this out, and when I finally got him to stop howling by reducing my diet to nothing but carrots, rice and potatoes for a week, I was loath to add anything back in, lest the crying (his and mine) resume. I needed a source of protein, though, and eventually found that tofu was ‘safe’. The problem was that I wasn’t terribly fond of tofu. I knew it could be delicious, because I’d eaten some incredible tofu dishes made by a friend. I rang her up and begged her to send some recipes. One of the recipes she sent was for tofu meatballs.

Those meatballs (minus about half their ingredients) kept me alive for that year of breast feeding. When I was through nursing and was able to add back into the recipe the onions, mustard, and peppers that would have caused my son grief, they stayed on the menu. They are one of those foods that induces overeating. My husband admits that he refrains from using tofu for stir fries or other dishes in the hope that I’ll make meatballs.

I don’t know where this recipe originally came from, and I would love to cite the source. If you recognise it and can enlighten me, please do so!

 

Mix together in a large bowl:

500g firm tofu, crumbled

1 grated carrot

1 onion, finely chopped (I sauté the onion first—we prefer the flavour that way)

1 green pepper, finely chopped

¼ cup fresh parsley, chopped

¾ cup finely ground walnuts

1 c bread crumbs

2 eggs

3 Tbsp soy sauce

2 tsp Dijon mustard

1 ½ Tbsp sesame oil

1 tsp ground fennel

1 ½ tsp dried basil

1 tsp dried oregano

ground black pepper to taste

Form into small balls and place on an oiled baking sheet. Bake at 190°C for about 30 minutes, or until beginning to brown. Serve with a simple tomato sauce over pasta.

Banish the winter blues!

100_3345 copyIt’s a drizzly, dark day. The whole family slept in this morning (well, apart from me), and they still all rose before sunrise. It was a day to either stay in bed or do something to banish the winter blues. So I made lemon cupcakes iced with bright yellow flowers—my kitchen is sunny, even if the sky is grey!

The original plan was to teach my daughter some cake decorating techniques, but we discovered we were out of confectioner’s sugar, so I made a buttercream frosting instead of a quick frosting. That took a lot longer than a quick frosting, and by the time the frosting was ready, a friend had arrived to play. Since all the cake decorating equipment was already out, I figured I’d have some fun, even without my daughter. (She did manage to stop playing long enough to eat a cupcake).

Cupcakes

carrotcupcakes1 smThe whole family loves cake, and I much prefer cake over cookies or bars, but cake has some important drawbacks. It can be difficult to pack in lunches—icing gets everywhere and the cake crumbles. It’s also not something the kids can grab and go with, like cookies are.

So lately I’ve been turning many of my cakes into cupcakes. They travel well, are easy to snag on the go, and…well…they’re cake!

It’s still nice to have icing on cake, but with cupcakes, I can ice some and leave others plain for lunchboxes. These beautifully iced carrot cupcakes were divine, but the plain ones were just as good!

chocchipcupcakes1 smThere are also some lovely cupcakes that don’t need icing at all, like these chocolate chip cupcakes with cheesecake centres.

So far, I haven’t met a cake that didn’t do just as well as a cupcake. Just make sure you pull them out as soon as they’re done—they’ll bake faster than a cake and dry out easily.

 

Birthday Cakes Past

DSC_0005 smFor Throwback Thursday, I thought I’d post some photos of a few past birthday cakes, just for fun.

2010: One of a long series of “flower” cakes requested by my daughter.

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2010: The Earth was my son’s request.

 

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2011: My daughter’s colourful paintbrush cake.

rabbitcakesm2012: The girl requested a surprise animal. This was my first attempt at using leaves as chocolate moulds (for the ears).

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2013: A dual birthday party cake–the spice cake owl was for my son, the chocolate log, for my daughter. I had always wanted to make meringue mushrooms…

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2014: After the 2012 success with chocolate painted leaves, I used the same technique for flight feathers on the LOTR eagle. Unfortunately, it was a blazingly hot day, and the wing tips melted and sagged within an hour.

DSC_0041 crop2014: The swan used more chocolate painted leaves—white chocolate this time, which managed the heat a little bit better than the dark chocolate (though the icing holding the wing to the body did not). It was also my first, not so attractive, foray into marzipan (for the beak).

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2014: My marzipan, cake, and candy triumph—Smaug was the joint birthday party cake. Tail, neck, head, and legs sculpted from marzipan, clear candy wings and jewels studding the treasure pile.

Girl

100_2230 smGirl.

She walks tall,

Plans,

Creates,

Loves,

Laughs.

 

Considers,

Debates,

Decides.

 

Imagines,

Does.

 

Is.

 

In the space given to her–

The space too small

To hold all that is

Girl,

The space with limits,

Rules,

Expectations that do not meet hers.

Expectations too low:

Strength,

Independence,

Endurance,

Brains.

Expectations too high:

Beauty,

Popularity,

Helplessness.

 

Make way.

Make space for her.

Space for steely resolve.

Space for sweat.

Space for skinned knees and

Dogged determination.

 

Because Girl

She walks tall.

She

Is.

Teenage angst

What do you mean I'm too young?

What do you mean I’m too young?

I was in my office, trying to focus on work when her insistent voice broke into my consciousness. Estrella, one of the goat kids, was whining loudly and incessantly. I stepped outside to see what was wrong with the normally quiet girl.

She was standing in the middle of the paddock. Her head wasn’t caught in the fence. Her sister and her mum were nearby. She hadn’t injured herself in the three hours since I was last in the paddock.

Ariana came bounding to her rescue, and her little tail gave a vigorous wag.

I sighed.

Estrella is in season. She’s the last of the three kids to start cycling. The other two have had their days over the past few weeks. Each cycle is heralded by vociferous maaa-ing.

At eight months old, the kids are too young to breed—though they’d happily get in kid, their bodies still aren’t fully developed, and it would cause them trouble. My old girl, Artemis, is now retired from breeding, though to hear her talk, she’d gladly visit the buck, too. Only one of the five goats in the paddock is at breeding age. She’s just come back from three weeks with the neighbour’s bucks, so I’m hopeful she is in kid.

But with four unmated goats in the paddock, and a cycle of three weeks between seasons, there’s going to be a lot of whining in the paddock this winter.

With two children in the house on the cusp of puberty, the whining indoors is almost as bad. I am surrounded by hormonal animals, all wanting something they don’t quite understand and cannot have.

It’s enough to make me dream of olive trees. They would look nice in the paddock. I love olives. And they don’t whine.

Guest Post–Figs

FigsToday’s post is a guest post written by my 11 year-old daughter about the figs she picked and processed today:

Last week I ate a fig for the first time ever. We have one fig tree. It started looking the most decimated of all the small fruit trees, but now it’s the only one that has given us fruit.

I noticed the figs were being eaten by birds so decided to pick one and try it. It tasted sweet and somewhat like Neptune’s necklace (a seaweed), but unlike Neptune’s necklace, it was quite tasty.

Today we picked the rest of the figs because the tree was getting frosted. We then boiled them and put them in a syrup. They are meant to be let sit for three weeks, but now they taste like somewhere between a fig and a sweet gherkin.

Best compliments ever

My bread can't compare to these beauties of Ian's.

My bread can’t compare to these beauties of Ian’s.

“Ugh! Their house smells like wet dog!” commented a friend’s sassy teenage daughter about a mutual acquaintance.

“I don’t want to know what you think my house smells like,” I teased.

“Oh! Your house smells wonderful! Like fresh bread and cinnamon!”

____________

“Is this homemade, too?!” asked Son’s Friend #1 in astonishment.

Everything here is homemade!” answered Son’s Friend #2 with glee.

Favourite Kitchen Tools: wooden spoons

Lia's spoonsmWe have a good half dozen wooden spoons sitting in the crock on the kitchen counter. They are some of the most heavily used tools in the kitchen, and the first thing I reach for whether I’m stirring pasta, potato soup, or sizzling onions.

The very best spoon is the one my daughter carved for me. Its smooth finish, beautifully rounded bowl, and attractive handle speak to her perseverance and attention to detail. It is a lovely, functional piece of art, and it makes me smile every time I use it. Can’t ask more of a spoon!

Welcome to the feast

100_3248 copyMy daughter wanted me to blog about Lego today.

“It’s gotta fit the 365 Days of Food theme,” I said. “Make a Lego feast, and I’ll blog about Lego.”

The result was a creative combination of preformed Lego food and her imagination, and reflects some of our favourite foods.

Bread, of course, is a central part of the feast. Sliced, in this case, with a sword, because Lego does not provide bread knives.

Flat round plates serve as pancakes, one of our common Sunday breakfast foods.

A Lego turkey, complete with dagger as carving knife, is a response to the fact the kids have several Lego turkeys. My daughter has, in fact, never eaten turkey.

Lego carrots are common, so naturally there is a bowl of carrots on the table.

A bowl of small red bricks represents balsamic glazed tomatoes—a lovely part of any feast.

There’s plenty to eat. Come join us at the Lego feast!