The Occasional (Very Lazy) Vegan: Carrot Spice Muffins

You may call it cheating that I've discovered muffins are an easy way to sneak in my self-imposed need for vegan cooking, but I call it smart breakfast eating (seriously these muffins have just 135 calories and 1 g of fat each, or so the site I got the recipe from claims). This carrot cake-like morning coffee companion seemed like the perfect healthy option to balance out my pistachio ice cream sandwiches and complete my Sunday of baking.

Vegan Carrot Spice Muffins
Adapted from FatFree Vegan Kitchen
Servings: 24 muffins
Time: 30 minutes (plus however fast you can shred carrots)

3 1/2 cups whole wheat flour
1/2 cup granulated sugar
2 tbsp flax meal or ground flax seed
2 tsp baking powder
2 tsp baking soda
2 tsp cinnamon
1 1/2 tsp ginger
1/4 tsp cloves
1/4 tsp salt
2/3 cup agave nectar
2/3 cup unsweetened apple sauce
1 cup soy yogurt
1/4 cup water
1 tbsp vanilla
2 1/2 cups shredded carrots
2/3-1 cup golden raisins

Yeah, that batter doesn't look like baby food gone wrong at all. 

1. Preheat the oven to 400 F.
2. Whisk the flour, granulated sugar, flax meal, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, ginger, cloves and salt together in a large bowl.
3. Mix the agave nectar, apple sauce, soy yogurt, water and vanilla together in a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment at medium speed.
4. Add in the dry ingredients and mix at low speed until just incorporated. 
5. Stir in the shredded carrots and golden raisins with a rubber spatula.
6. Fill up lined muffin tins 2/3 of the way with batter.
7. Bake for 15-20 minutes. Let cool on wire racks.

My army of loyal muffin minions are ready to take over the world (or at least breakfast).

These were a welcome addition to my ever-growing muffin stable. For something so healthy (and proper muffin looking) these tasted great. An abundance of raisins (I upped the amount considerably) mixing with all those fresh carrots highlighted these muffins and helped me forget all about carrot cakes usually being smothered in cream cheese. They probably could have used a little more spices for added kick and perhaps soy milk in the place of water to reach greater levels of tasty veganity. Minor quibbles aside, these were still a delightful way to start off your morning. 

The Pistachio Ice Cream Sandwich

It's practically telling you to eat it.

My attempts to beat the summer heat joined forces with the ultimate in childhood comfort desserts (and my mild arrested development) this past week in the form of an ice cream sandwich. After some subpar pistachio cake during restaurant week, I was in desperate need of a dessert deserving of the magically flavorful and addictive green nuts. Would my hands and mind survive the endless shelling and chopping, or would dessert be derailed faster than the sun could melt these ice cream sandwiches?

Pistachio Ice Cream Sandwich
Adapted from Food.com
Servings: 12 sandwiches or 24 cookies
Time: 90 minutes (60 of which are just refrigeration)

I'll find any excuse to buy Ben & Jerry's.

1 cup butter, softened
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup light brown sugar, firmly packed
1 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp ground nutmeg
1 egg
1 tbsp vanilla
2/3-1 tsp almond extract
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup pistachio nuts, coarsely chopped
1 pint Ben & Jerry's Pistachio Pistachio Ice cream

For once, I had figured out the proper distance between cookies.

I now hate them after all the chopping & shelling.

1. Cream the butter and sugar together until light and fluffy using a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment at medium speed.
2. Drop in the baking powder and nutmeg and mix well.
3. Add the egg, vanilla and almond extract until full incorporated.
4. Mix in the flour until just combined.
5. Fold in the pistachios using a rubber spatula.
6. Refrigerate your dough covered for an hour.
7. Preheat the oven to 350 F.
8. Drop 1 inch balls onto baking sheets lined with parchment paper and flatten slightly with the back of a spoon. Leave about 2 inches of room between cookies.
9. Bake for 10-12 minutes or until the cookies start to brown.
10. Let the bottoms crisp up on the cookie sheets for 3 minutes then transfer on to wire racks to cool.
11. Once cooled, scoop ice cream between two cookies and enjoy.

A proper pistachio to cookie ratio was reached.

Originally, I wanted to make a more traditional Italian pistachio cookie, but I could not get a hold of the required almond meal. Instead, I compromised and made a fairly standard cookie and loaded it with almond extract to make up for it. The resulting cookie had just the right level of crispness and was only very subtly sweet allowing the lightly roasted pistachios to really come through in each bite. These delectable little pistachio stuffed morsels also managed to set a new record for fastest devouring when I brought the leftovers to work the next day (the ones who sadly didn't find their other cookie soul mate in eternal ice cream sandwich love).

While these cookies shined on their own, they really made an impression when bookending ice cream. I don't know that there is any store bought dessert better than a pint of Ben & Jerry's (as my brother-in-law Bryan and I discovered while starting out the blog and serving as private amateur chef. At least now, I've learned to not eat the entire pint. Take that arrested development!). The Pistachio Pistachio helped up the sweetness to more sinful levels and pumped in additional almond-like flavor (it's seriously almost like they managed to make petit four ice cream). In the end, I was left with a fantastic slightly more adult take on the ice cream sandwich that thoroughly satisfied my pistachio needs (and another bag of pistachios to shell and eat in obscene quantities).

Don't let the picture fool you, these were tiny bite-sized (or four bites) snacks that strayed from my usual human head-sized baking tendencies.

The Uruguay Chivito Steak and Fried Egg Sandwich

No picture can do justice to how unbelievably tasty this sandwich with the long name was.

My love of Susan Feniger has been well documented (see Kaya Toast, Amaretto Flan and my constant desire to fly back to Los Angeles for dinner at Street), so when I heard she was coming out with a street food cookbook I immediately began to salivate at the many delicious possibilities it was going to add to my life (and cursed the fact that it was a pre-order forcing me to wait several more months). Finally, one glorious day in July, a box from Amazon appeared on my doorstep, and Nancy and I set about making a Sunday dinner of the world's messiest yet most delicious sandwich: The elusive Uruguay Chivito Steak and Fried Egg Sandwich. Now, we must sadly live in a world where all other (clearly inferior sandwiches) have been forever ruined.

The Uruguay Chivito Steak and Fried Egg Sandwich
Adapted from Susan Feniger's Street Food
Servings: 8 sandwiches (It's that good. You're going to want at least 8.)
Time: 60 minutes

Sammich
3 lbs skirt steak, cut into 1/2-1/4 inch strips
1 bunch fresh cilantro, chopped
6 tbsp Worcestershire sauce
4 tbsp whole-grain mustard
3 tsp sea salt
Olive Oil
2 red onions, thinly sliced
2 red bell peppers, cut into thin strips
8 large eggs
8 French rolls
16 slices provolone cheese
8 slices prosciutto

Golf Salsa
1/2 cup ketchup
1/2 cup mayonnaise
Juice of 1 lime

And now the moment when I finally prove to myself I can cook steak without the aid of grillmaster Kevin. Not being grossed out when handling all the raw meat is still a work in progress...

Finally a pink weapon for my culinary arsenal!

1. Preheat the oven to 400 F.
2. Marinade the steak strips in the Worcestershire sauce and mustard with the cilantro and salt. Let sit for half an hour.
3. Sauté the onions and bell pepper in olive oil over medium heat. Cook until the onions caramelize and the bell pepper becomes tender.
4. In a separate pan, sear the steak with olive oil for 3-4 minutes until browned. Try to get as much of the marinade out as possible before putting the steak into the pan.
5. Fry the eggs in olive oil or butter so that the yolks are still runny. I recommend cooking them over medium heat and covering the frying pan.
6. Slice the French rolls in half and place them cut side up on baking sheets. Place a slice of cheese on each half and bake for about 5 minutes or until the cheese melts and the rolls crisp up.
7. Whisk the ketchup, mayonnaise and lime juice together for a fun pink condiment.
8. Prep the sandwich by spreading salsa on each half of the roll, piling on steak, onions, and bell pepper. Top with a fried egg and slice of prosciutto.
9. Load up on napkins and bite into the gloriousness.

Sous chef Nancy earned herself a commemorative plaque for her part in making the world's most delicious and messy sandwich.

The sandwich in its stable, pre-bite state. Soon that plate would be mostly yellow.

I find it hard to properly describe the levels of awesomitude reached by this sandwich (mostly because every time I start thinking back to it, my brain shuts down, and I just start drooling). The results were some ingenious cross between a cheese steak and a Vietnamese banh mi. The steak was incredibly tender and had a nice kick from the Worcestershire and mustard (which led to everyone picking at the bowl of meat once they were done with their sandwiches). The caramelized onions and bell peppers added a light sweetness to the sandwich, while the Golf salsa provided a creaminess and hint of lime to liven things up. The true highlight of the sandwich, though, has to be that fried egg. Nothing beats biting into a fresh baked crispy roll and smothering a sandwich (and your hand because, hey, that's how gravity works) with a popped egg yolk. This sandwich was a huge hit with everyone as evidenced by the total silence aside from the sound of "mmm" while we were eating. Sadly, all the bread was consumed during the initial sandwich fest, so we had to be creative and make worthy taco substitutes instead to make sure the leftovers didn't go to waste (which would be considered a crime against humanity).

When you run out of bread, the leftovers make for an awesome taco (don't be put off by the seemingly out of place pink sauce). 

Sandwich connoisseur Jaime attempts to fit the entire sandwich in his mouth. His jaw is still recovering.

I really can't recommend buying Street Food enough. It's a culinary trip around the world with everything from spice mixes to desserts and drinks that will force you to expand your food horizons with plenty of specialty ingredients you never would have thought to use before.

We lost a lot of good napkins that day.

We finished off the meal with a salted lhassi with cumin and mint, but you're going to have to buy the cookbook to find out that recipe.

The Occasional (Very Lazy) Vegan: Lemon Blueberry Muffins

Several weeks ago I had the shocking discovery that the glorious baking pans I make so many tasty cupcakes in are actually called "muffin tins". How did the muffin earn such notoriety that it could displace the world's most perfect dessert from its rightful place in culinary equipment nomenclature? Intrigued, I set about making the healthier cousin of my beloved cupcakes and discovered the many joys of a week's worth of fresh, non-super processed breakfasts. My affair with muffins (or breakfast cupcakes) continued with a vegan take on the classic lemon blueberry muffin that became an essential part of my daily routine.

Vegan Lemon Blueberry Muffins
Adapted from Eggless Cooking
Servings: 24+ muffins
Time: 45 minutes

4 cups all-purpose flour
1 tbsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
Zest of 6 small lemons
2 cups sugar
2 cups soy milk
2/3 cup canola oil
2 tbsp apple cider vinegar
3 cups fresh blueberries

1. Preheat the oven to 375 F.
2. Whisk the flour, baking soda, salt and lemon zest together in a large bowl. Set aside.
3. Mix the sugar, soy milk, oil and vinegar together well in a stand mixer.
4. Add in the dry ingredients in several increments at low speed until just combined.
5. Fold the blueberries into the batter with a rubber spatula.
6. Grease muffin tins well and fill each 2/3 of the way with batter.
7. Bake for 16-22 minutes or until the toothpick test comes back clean.
8. Let cool in the muffin tins for 5 minutes then move to wire racks.

The poor one in the middle is the equivalent of a bald muffin. He was teased mercilessly by the other muffins but managed to find a good, loving home in my stomach.

The muffin itself was incredibly moist and fluffy, but the abundance of fresh blueberries and lemon flavor truly stole the show. The tart blueberries and sour lemon somehow balance each other out (as previously seen in the Blueberry Lemon Crepe) to complete a light yet fulfilling breakfast. If you desire a slightly more crunchy breakfast experience, sprinkling some brown sugar on top prior to baking could enhance your muffin top quite nicely (much like cupcakes enhance your natural muffin top).

The proper blueberry to muffin ratio expertly hand-modeled by Nancy.

The Oatmeal Cookie of Destiny

You make me want to be a better baker.

Every now and then I reach a moment of complete and total clarity while baking (this is likely just a minor diabetic seizure, but we'll treat it as an epiphany) when I know I've made something addictive that propels my desire to one day actually open up Terry's Crafty Confectionery Crafts. This devilish oatmeal cookie supersaturated with cherries, white chocolate, pecans and Heath bar bits is deserving of its own illegal street corner trading. No longer will the oatmeal cookie be relegated to banishment in the corner as that kind of healthy looking cookie with the weird texture! It's ready for the big time.

The Oatmeal Cookie of Destiny

Adapted from Cookie Madness

Servings: 24+ cookies

Time: 30 minutes

1 cup unsalted butter, softened

1/2 cup granulated sugar

1 cup brown sugar, packed

2 large eggs

2 tsp pure vanilla extract

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

2 cups quick cooking oats

1 tsp baking soda

1/2 tsp salt

1 cup cherries, quartered and pitted

1 cup white chocolate chips

1 cup Heath bar bits

1/2 cup honey toasted pecans, chopped

1. Preheat the oven to 350 F.
2. Whisk the flour, oats, baking soda and salt together in a large bowl. Set aside.
3. Cream the butter and sugars together using a stand mixer at medium speed until light and fluffy.
4. Add the vanilla and eggs one at a time until fully incorporated. 
5. Stir in the flour mixture at low speed until just combined.
6. Incorporate the remaining ingredients with a rubber spatula until evenly distributed.
7. Scoop the dough in 2-3 tsp sized chunks onto baking sheets lined with parchment paper. Leave ~2 inches between cookies.
8. Bake for 10-13 minutes or until browned.
9. Let cool on the baking sheets for 3 minutes to crisp up the bottoms then move to wire racks.
10. Pair with stout-like beer.

I tend to get overzealous when it comes to proper cookie dough proportions and spacing.

This cookie has so much going on. The truly ridiculous conglomeration of cookie fillings could stand as a memorable cookie with one or two ingredients removed, but when properly assembled this cookie becomes a force of nature (or some horrible post apocalyptic nature in a world where the only remaining resource is sugar). The cherries were my personal favorite as they had a freshness and natural sweetness to counterbalance the other slightly more decadent aspects. The pecans supplied a nice crunch, while the white chocolate further emphasized the richness and the Heath bar bits added a nice caramel finish.

Who needs cookies and milk? Surprise and delight your kids with these oatmeal cookies paired with an imperial stout or brown ale (because, really, is there anything more hilarious and adorable than drunk children?). 

These cookies helped appease a packed townhouse since Nancy was over helping cooking dinner and Jaime and Jess were escaping their air-condition deprived home (It was only 92 inside their place. I think they just wanted an excuse to see me.). Thankfully, all these people were present to prevent me from eating the entire batch and then knowing shame. More importantly, Jaime brought along appropriate stouts and brown ales to pair with the cookies.

Refugee Jess enjoys a cookie to forget her air-conditioner woes. 

Recipes Revisited: Kaya Toast and Tofu Bun

Plenty of fresh ingredients to finish off a nice summer night

Fortunately for my fellow chem nerds, I did not base an entire day of cooking around the disaster known as Molecular Gastronomy, which managed to draw the ire of a five year old and caused my parents to question where all that money for my college degree went. To round out our mini-reunion, I picked two fresh and fun dishes to help convince my former classmates that I wasn't just plagiarizing all these blog posts: Kaya Toast and Tofu Bun. My once powerful ego had taken a mighty blow, so if this was going to work, I was going to need all the help I could get out of sous chefs Amanda, Phillip and Dr. Hennessy. 

Kaya Toast

Link to Original Post with Recipe

By the beard of Zeus this is glorious!

Nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing beats warm Kaya Toast like that which culinary genius Susan Feniger serves up daily at Street. Also, nothing beats this quizzical look that forms on people's faces when you try to convince them they should partake in a dish consisting of toast with coconut custard dipped in a soy sauce glazed fried egg. No one who musters the courage to brave the weird and unknown ever leaves disappointed. Plus, there's the extra added bonus that the coconut custard doubles as a delightful dessert (even new mega-nemesis Joseph agreed). 

Dr. Hennessy invokes her inner scientific skepticism.

Amanda has a much more cheerful approach to the Kaya Toast. Really, she's just waiting for us all to leave so she can eat the coconut custard for breakfast.

Tofu Bun (or that dish that makes me wish I knew how to type those special accent mark characters)

Original Post with Meat-Filled Recipe

There is one undeniable truth about summer in Houston; it is absurdly hot and disgustingly humid. Life is almost a constant battle to counteract this unfortunate climate, and our main course would be no exception. Bun is simply a Vietnamese vermicelli bowl filled with veggies and meat or tofu. The freshness and crispness of the veggies and vermicelli combined with the fact that they work quite well cold are the perfect refuge from the heat. Top it all off with some lightly fried tofu and fish sauce for a perfect level of saltiness for a complete meal that really only requires you to chop things (making it a clear winner after a long, hard day of cooking). 

Sous chef Phillip shows off the quality domesticated man he has become.

Thanks to a little help from my friends, my culinary career was resurrected from the ashes (or probably some kind of weird foam thing since it was destroyed by molecular gastronomy). Aside from a delicious meal, there were two major achievements that evening: we managed not to blow anything up and Amanda's kitchen was used more than it had been since she bought her house (it may now return to its native dormant state). For our next mini-reunion, I'll play it safe and stick to baking.

Jake surveys the kitchen looking for fallen food and reminding me that I need to get a dog.

Molecular Gastronomy or That Time I Failed at Being a Chemist

I call this one the alien bug fail.

This may be hard to believe, faithful readers, but there once was a time that I was a chemistry nerd (Kicking (CH3)2CO and taking names!). It's ok; it was in college (that's what they meant by a time of experimentation, right? RIGHT?!?!). Despite being back in Houston for nearly ten months now, I had yet to have a joyful reunion with my former cool lab dwellers. This past weekend, I sought to fix that and assembled the rag tag group of chem geniuses Amanda, Phillip and Dr. Hennessy (I still feel weird calling her by her first name even though it's been 5 years since graduation.). I had recently received a molecular gastronomy kit for my birthday, so it only seemed fitting to share in the nerdy cooking with the people who helped make sure I never accidentally blew up the chem lab (I'm the best at science.). Surely, this would be an easy endeavor with several advanced degrees and a previously successfully attempt at the sweet food science with Mint Juleps and Mint Caviar. But, as is seemingly always the case, cockiness led to oh so much fail.

Mint caviar was so easy. A little too easy...

I decided I would start off the get together with a fancy cheese course. I would top some scrumptious brie with honey "caviar". Unfortunately, the culinary world had other plans.

Honey Caviar

From Cuisine R-Evolution

Time: 35 minutes

Servings: However many people want to eat a blob of honey stuck in oil

2 g agar-agar

1/3 cup water

1/2 cup honey

Vegetable oil

Water for rinse

1. Chill the oil in the fridge for 30 minutes.
2. Mix the water, honey and agar-agar together in a saucepan then bring to a boil.
3. Pour the mixture into a bowl and fill up a syringe with it.
4. Slowly drop the honey into the chilled vegetable oil. Collect the pearls with a slotted spoon and place in your water rinse bowl.
5. Nervously laugh when that last part doesn't actually come to fruition.

It looked like it was working. Then it became one giant honey blob.

Everything seemed to be going quite swimmingly. Then it came time to remove the honey spheres from the oil. Either they had all come together or they would immediately break when they hit the air-oil interface. Things were not off to a good start, but it didn't make sense. The science was so in my favor. Think of agar-agar as super gelatin. We activated it by boiling and then were supposed to cause it to quickly thicken by introducing it to the cold oil. The only excuse for this failure had to be a temperature issue, but several different attempts kept producing the same disappointing results. Our brie would just have to be eaten sans fancy honey. 

Since I was oh so very confident in my fairly unproven molecular gastronomy skills, I decided to make a two-part dessert. It would feature a chocolate "wind" base complimented by raspberry "ravioli" spherifications.

Chocolate Wind

From Cuisine R-Evolution

2 g soy lecithin

85 g dark chocolate

1 cup water

Well, I guess I'm not the world's worst molecular gastronomer.

1. Mix the chocolate and water together and bring to a boil. Refrigerate for 10 minutes.
2. Use a hand blender to dissolve the soy lecithin in the chocolate mixture and create foam.
3. Collect the foam and freeze it for at least an hour.

My confidence began to grow as the chocolate "wind" started to form. This was actually fairly easy. Just make sure the bowl you are blending in has a good foam producing shape (think tall glass). While this may have been the only true success of the evening as far as looks go, it wasn't the biggest winner in taste. Just look at it. It's chocolate and water, so, in what should come as a surprise to no one, it tastes like watered down chocolate.

Science successfully at work! The soy lecithin is an emulsifier that helps promote the formation of foams or air/water emulsions when agitated. 

Raspberry Ravioli

From Cuisine R-Evolution

2 g sodium alginate

2 cups water

1 3/4 cups raspberries

1 tbsp sugar

1/2 tsp calcium lactate

Water for rinsing

The ensuing horror was foretold.

1. Dissolve the sodium alginate in water using a hand blender. Refrigerate for 15 minutes.
2. Puree the raspberries, sugar and calcium lactate together in a blender.
3. Carefully drop the puree into the alginate bath using a measuring spoon. Let form for 3 minutes. Be careful not to let the ravioli touch one another or they will aggregate.
4. Grab your ravioli with a slotted spoon and rinse in water.
5. Close your eyes and enjoy.

Because you want your dessert to look kind of like a fetus...

The raspberry ravioli was technically a success, just not a very pretty one. The raspberries turned into proper spherifications in the alginate solution. Unfortunately, my delicate dropping skills need some work, and they weren't spheres so much as horror movie props (I'm fairly certain I saw these in the Basket Case series). Make sure that the entire raspberry gets its time in the solution or else it'll easily break (mine had a tendency to float to the top). They were bursting with delicious raspberry flavor for what we'll call a 2/3 win.

In case you're wondering how this works, the calcium rich raspberry puree has plenty of calcium ions with a +2 charge that can bond with two negatively charged alginate ions to form a dense gel network.

This is what happened after I said "Ok, this is gonna be the pretty one!"

Once we combined the structurally suspect raspberry ravioli with the rapidly melting chocolate wind, we were ready for dessert. Aside from the minor watery taste, it was a fairly refreshing and light way to end our night. Unfortunately, Dr. Hennessy's five-year-old son Joseph didn't agree as he gave the scathing review "I call it not very good!" And with that, I had a new nemesis.

Would they still love me after a lackluster molecular gastronomy showing? Hopefully all those late night problem sets and world's longest columns had forever entrenched me in their hearts. (Not Pictured: the world's harshest food critic).

Molecular Gastronomy II: The Reckoning!

That's a little more like it.

Like any good scientist, I was not going to let these minor setbacks deter me from total culinary domination. While writing this post (and drawing immense inspiration from watching Cupcake Wars), I set about conquering the honey caviar (plus, I was really jonesing for some brie). Failure was not an option, so I set about making sure all this was a well temperature controlled experiment by using a candy thermometer. Once the honey mixture started boiling (and was well above the 80 C required for agar-agar activation), I immediately transferred it to a bowl and started dropping it into my cold oil. I also noticed that the slotted spoon provided in the kit had holes that were a little too large to catch some of the smaller spheres, so I put the mixture into a strainer and rinsed it with water for a delicious success. I guess I'm not the world's worst chemist. Take that, Kurt Alder and your stupid reactions!

Pay no attention to the fact I didn't yield enough to cover the entire wheel. This was a total win. 

Sure it tastes exactly like mixing honey with brie, but it's infinitely cooler.