I served this dish with simply sauteed squash but I think it would be a great accompaniment for salmon, or any fish really, or chicken.  Or beans.  Or anything.  Or nothing.  Just alone.  Yum.

Green Rice (adapted from The Natural Cookbook)

And then we started living together and working full time and running in parallel circles that only infrequently overlapped and I made the executive decision that I would no longer like a baby.

And when one person doesn’t want a baby, the other can’t exactly force one upon her.  And luckily, my husband heard me out, and we made the decision that WE would not like a baby.  Sure, we like your baby.  We love your baby.  We’ll babysit your baby.  But we don’t want a baby.

I want to sleep and wake on my terms.
I want to go on vacation with ease.
I want to go on vacations of my choosing, not the baby’s.
I’m too selfish.
I want to drop everything and go get ice cream.

We enjoyed our life with our two aging dogs and two horses.  And the cat.  Sometimes his cries sound like a baby but he’s no baby.

Sometimes we’d look at each other, while we doing barn chores like scooping poop and medicating horses, and mention, “Man.  If we had a baby, this would SUCK.”  I mean, either someone would be in the house, alone, with the baby while the other did the dreaded chores, or all three of us (me, him, the baby) would be out in the barn doing the chores.  Now that’s certainly not sanitary.

So we may or may not have elevated the 9 year old pooches to baby status.  I think we can all agree that they didn’t mind.

They became known as the ‘granddogs’ to my parents and the family felt complete.

But sometimes you can’t predict where life takes you.  And you might end up with a baby despite your precautions preventing it.

Meet Vinny: our baby.  Oh, you thought I was talking about a human baby?  No.  I was talking about a puppy.  They are serious business – a business I never wanted to be a part of.  But like I said earlier, sometimes you don’t have a choice.  And we welcome this baby into our family with open arms.

We began teaching our old dogs about the concept of a baby and being gentle to the baby.  The family began getting up in the middle of the night to take care of the baby.  We all began running out of the door when we heard the trademark piddle of the baby indoors.  We began taking the baby to the barn, just like we always said we wouldn’t, and snatching horse poop out of the baby’s mouth.  But somehow, we loved the baby.  Despite all the trouble.  We loved this baby.

And having this baby means that dinner time preparation just got cut even shorter.  This recipe for Asian beef bowls is certainly baby friendly – quick to whip up!

The Omnivore commented that the flavors were subtle and I found that to be true and untrue at the same time.  The thin ribbons of carrots were sweet and flavorful.  The bites of cilantro were bright.  The beef was tangy and tender.  It was healthy and cheap – using only about 3/4 pound of beef for 4 servings and cups and cups of vegetables.

Asian beef bowl (adapted from a recipe seen on Adventures in Home Cooking)

He was thinking Domino’s.  I was thinking…vegan.

When I mentioned that we’d be having split pea soup with our pizza he knew something was up.

I strongly considered reducing the split pea soup down to a thicker consistency and using it as a sauce on my pizza.  Someone talked me out of that, though.  I did end up dipping my pizza into the soup, however.

Anyway.  You could use this crust as a pizza crust if you’re serving gluten free people.  In fact, my husband prefers this crust to my whole wheat pizza crust.  He hates having whole wheat things and would rather just have a crust that’s totally different (his words, not mine).

A note about this crust: I have made it using two different types of chickpea flours: roasted and unroasted.  The following measurements are for the ROASTED chickpea flour variety.  Unroasted flour will require more flour that indicated in the recipe below to achieve an acceptable consistency.

GF Chickpea Crust (seen on Cara’s Cravings, recipe from A Cambridge Story)

Since we both are particularly chatty types, there were lots of stories exchanged.  After many of my comments, Bec would say, “Oh, to be a fly on the wall in your house to hear the conversations you have.”  I took it as a compliment.  Maybe it wasn’t??

So, Bec, this one’s for you!

I was out on a long run this morning.  I had a goal of reaching a certain stop sign that I knew was 6.55 miles away from my house, making it the perfect half marathon distance.  I started thinking about breaking the run up into a series of shorter milestones so that it was easier to handle mentally.

So I thought, I’ll just run halfway to the stop sign.  When I get to that point, I’ll just run half the distance remaining.  And when I get to that point, I’ll just run half the distance remaining again.

And, all of the sudden, I had this vision in my head:

You know it.  I know it.  It is our friend, the asymptote.  The curve gets closer and closer and closer to this boundary (the asymptote) but it never touches it.  Just imagine taking the distance from the curve to the boundary and halving it, and halving it, and halving it.  It gets infinitely close to the line but never touches it.

And I was thinking about me getting infinitely closer to my goal stop sign.  And thinking about how frustrating it is.  I’m going to keep going and keep going, and just like the curve, I’ll never reach the goal.

And then I passed the stop sign.  And my brain exploded.

Well, not really, but seriously.  It sounds so accurate in theory.  I can never truly reach the stop sign just like the curve never truly reaches the asymptote.  But I did.  So when theory says I can’t make it work, I do.  Quite empowering, no?

And then as quickly as I entered into the great beyond of analytical geometry and realms of infinity, I was back to reality and thinking, “God help me if I ever have so many horses as to need this much hay.”

I’ve got no connection between this story and the recipe I’m sharing.  The truth is, I didn’t want to share the recipe for gluten free cornbread.  I  quickly snapped a photograph before I served it along side chili to my best friends and my husband as we sat around our campfire carving pumpkins.

The picture isn’t so good.  But my friend has recently eliminated gluten from her life and was craving bread.  Obviously, I’m up to the challenge of making gluten free anything.  Or anything difficult.

As you can tell from the photo, the cornbread is more crumbly than a normal recipe.  But the flavor was great.  And I told my friend that I wasn’t sure I could share the recipe without a decent photo.  She gave me a hug and said, “Branny.  People like me need to know about this recipe.”  So, here it is: Gluten Free Cornbread.  And a picture of our pumpkins.

Gluten Free Cornbread (from Gluten Free Mommy)

So I ordered the duck.  It was a good choice.

But here’s the thing.  Making risotto at home is easier said the done: the Omnivore hates it.  He’s given it the old college try.  And he won’t say much if it appears on his plate.  Silence = loud and clear.  He hates risotto.

The night I made this, I challenged myself to wing it without a recipe.  I did a very good job (but not good enough to win over my husband).  And while I didn’t mind eating all 4 servings of spinach risotto myself over the span of two days, I think I may just need to settle for ordering it in restaurants in the future.

One Year Ago: Lentil Salad with Roasted Peppers
Two Years Ago: Lasagna Pie

Spinach Risotto

I made this meal one later afternoon when my husband was driving in from out of town.  I knew he’d be passing by tempting fast food restaurants.

I knew he’d want to stop at Arby’s, and I knew he’d equally not want to stop at Arby’s.  So I sent him text messages, telling him to hurry home because I had his favorite lunch ready for him.

Neither of us knew he had a favorite lunch, but I had him on the hook.

“Yes!” he said as he sat down, “this is my favorite lunch.”

One Year Ago: Buttermilk Avocado Soup
Two Years Ago: Melon Salad with Chili and Lime

Bulgur Salad with Tuna and Tomatoes (adapted from The BH&G Healthy Family Cookbook)

But as the Omnivore was quick to comment after dinner, the egg really makes the meal.  Be careful not to overcook the egg (unless you are so averse to runny yolk you can’t stand it) because the glory of the drippy yolk over the rice is amazing.  In fact, this meal is worthy of breakfast OR dinner, however you want to spin it.

One Year Ago: Pasta with Uncooked Tomato Sauce
Two Years Ago: Basil Kofta

Rice and Beans with Eggs (adapted from FineCooking)

Enter whine.  It went something like this: “I don’t like lentils and rice.  We live on a farm now and I work hard.  During the time we lived apart I fed myself so well.  I want something like meat for dinner.  I hate lentils.”

Wow.  Moving back in together is going to take quite a dietary adjustment, I see.

I was feeling particularly generous so I said, “Ok.  How about some sausage and pasta.”

He felt triumphant.

I found a frozen tube of Jimmy Dean sage flavored sausage in the freezer and threw it in the sink to thaw.  Meanwhile, I began chopping the ingredients for my meal.  Out came 6 cloves of garlic, an onion, and a handful of parsley.

Suddenly, a little voice from the side of the kitchen squeaked, “Is it too late to have what you’re having?  I take that whole meat thing back.”

Yeah.  I thought so.  Back in the fridge that sausage went and a I quickly doubled the recipe for my red lentils and cous cous so that I could share with the Omnivore.  And boy was he happy I was so generous!

One Year Ago: Cucumber and Quinoa Salad
Two Years Ago: The Evolution of Wheatmeat

Red Lentils with Garlic and Onions (adapted from wholefoods)

In addition to the birthday cake for my best friend’s party, I was in charge of a side dish.  The main course consisted of chicken and pineapple kabobs and shrimp kabobs.

The aroma that filled the kitchen when I plated this coconut rice was intoxicating in the best way.  The scents of cinnamon and coconut milk caused most everyone to turn their heads.  This dish was so simple to crank out but so impressive.

Coconut Rice (from Epicurious.com)

Basmati Rice made with cinnamon and coconut milk

He said it in the nicest possible way.

“Oh.  It is beets!  Okay then.  I love beets.”

I think that was an apology.

So, you’re not rightly going to be able to serve this dish to self-proclaimed beet haters.  There’s just no hiding the star player here.  And why should we hide beets?  They are such an under-appreciated vegetable.  They come in bunches.  They come attached to pretty, edible greens.  And they make things a shockingly red color.  And red is pretty.  And pretty food tastes better.

One Year Ago: Spicy Black Beans with Spinach & Masa Dumplings
Two Years Ago: Mediterranean Pasta with Limas and Olives

Orange Scented Beet Risotto (adapted from Martha Stewart)
2 teaspoons olive oil
1 cup Arborio rice
1/2 cup dry white wine
3 cups reduced-sodium chicken or vegetable broth, heated
2 beets
zest of one orange, plus wedges of orange for serving
1 tablespoon butter
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese, divided
Coarse salt and ground pepper

In an oven heated to 425*, roast beets until tender when pierced with a knife, about 30 minutes.  Allow to cook; then peel and dice into 1/2″ chunks.  This step can be done in advance – simply refrigerate cooked and chopped beets until ready to use.

Heat olive oil in a medium stockpot over medium-high.  Add rice and stir to coat.  Cook 3-4 minutes.  Add wine and cook, stirring occasionally, until 1/2 the liquid is absorbed.  Stir in orange zest.  Add 3 cups broth in 1/2 cup intervals.  Add 1/2 cup broth, stir occasionally until liquid is mostly absorbed and repeat until no broth remains.  This process should take about 30 minutes.  Just before serving stir in butter and half the Parmesan cheese.  Add salt and pepper to taste.

Serve each portion with 1 T Parmesan cheese on top.  Offer orange slices to squeeze atop risotto before serving.