Scarlet Roasted Vegetables

The first day of September is just a few days away, so I'm starting to feel like summer is ending. I'm looking forward to the fruits and vegetables that will be locally available in the fall - like squash, apples, and more greens. But I definitely have not experienced a dearth of different ways to prepare the familiar lineup of vegetables I've been eating the last two months. This dinner idea began with noticing that the bottom drawer of the refrigerator had a plentiful amount of beets. I turned to my two vegan cookbooks on loan from the library and was happy to find this recipe that uses beets as a main ingredient: Scarlet Roasted Vegetables, from Alicia Silverstone's "The Kind Diet" book.

This book has lots of recipes, categorized into two "intensities" of vegan-ness: Vegan and Superhero. It also has lots of great food pictures to go with the recipes, as well as a number of informative chapters on meat, dairy, processed foods, and nutrition.
A fair amount of recipes involve using ingredients I'd imagine most people are unfamiliar with (mochi, umeboshi vinegar) or aren't able to buy at common grocery stores (hemp seeds, brown rice syrup). Although, I do prefer the challenge of finding new foods in a grocery store over searching for new shoes. In addition, many recipes can be altered or simplified, and a bunch use pretty common ingredients. The "Scarlet Roasted Vegetables" recipe is one that I definitely quirked, found very simple to do, and I'm sure tasted just as great as its by-the-book inspiration.

My dad gave me some help by cutting up carrots and yellow beans...

... as well as boiling the beets (to make the skins fall off and save time with peeling). I cut up some zucchini and yellow squash to add to the party bowl. Then I gathered the different spices and flavors that would amalgamate and awaken all the vegetables into its delicious scarlet beauty.

Lemon zest (grated from the peels of two lemons), the juice of one lemon, soy sauce, a few bay leaves, parsley, sliced almonds, leeks and halved dried apricots.

It's fun to add something hardy and crunchy (almonds) and something sweet and chewy (dried apricots) to the vegetable medley. I tossed all those ingredients in a big bowl with all the vegetables, along with some olive oil, and combined it well. (The beets were peeled, cubed and added after I took this picture.)

Then I spread out the whole lot over two lightly oiled baking pans.

It does take some time to cut up all these vegetables and flavorings, and then another 40 minutes while it bakes in the oven, but the result is unbeatable.

With some fresh lemon juice squeezed on top of each warm helping, every bite was juicy and robust. With tasty meals like this, it's easy to want to skimp on the chewing and quickly feed yourself forkful after forkful. But since I only let the veggies roast to a nice tenderness that's far from mushiness, the process of eating them provides a nice opportunity to chew on your thoughts while your mouth is closed for extended periods of time. Better chewing makes happier digestion!

The beets did indeed bleed enough to create some fun color swapping. A sugary surprise appeared in every few bites from the dried apricots. Careful crunching of almonds intensified the need to chew thoroughly. All the vegetables contributed to flavor variety. And all loved ones were happy and satiated on the dinnertime home front.

Here's the recipe from the book. (I used a larger quantity of vegetables than called for, so I upped the quantity of almonds, leeks, parsley, dried apricots, bay leaves and soy sauce.)

4-6 shallots, peeled and halved lengthwise (I used leeks)
3 large beets, cut into 1" chunks
2 parsnips, quartered lengthwise (I heard these have a sweet taste, which would have gone great with this recipe; but I used the carrots I had on hand instead)
1 large fennel bulb, halved, cored, and thickly sliced (I don't even know what a fennel bulb is, so I left it out)
1-2 cups kabocha squash, cut into big chunks (peel only if not organic) (I used the zucchini, yellow squash and yellow beans I had on hand instead)
3-4 celery stalks, cut in 1" pieces (I didn't have any celery either, so I left it out)
3-4 dried bay leaves
1/2 cup pecan halves (I used some almonds I had in the cupboard instead)
6-8 dried apricots, coarsely chopped
1-2 tsp shoyu (that's the Japanese name for "soy sauce")
Grated zest of two lemons
2-3 Tbs olive oil
Juice of 1 lemon
2 Tbs fresh parsley

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Lightly oil one or more large baking sheets.
Combine all ingredients in a large bowl. Mix to coat the vegetables well.
Spread out vegetables evenly on baking sheets.
Cover with aluminum foil and roast for 40 minutes, or until vegetables are soft when pierced.
Remove foil and roast for another 15 minutes to let the vegetables brown a little. (I only did about 5-10 minutes without the foil because we were huuungry!)
Remove from oven, toss with lemon juice, and garnish with parsley. (I mixed the parsley in with the vegetables and had it all cook together instead.)

Now get out there and create something colorful to decorate your plates and feed your tummies!

Breakfast For Lunch

(Please pardon the swiped-from-the-internet and low-quality-taken-with-iPod pics until I get a replacement battery for my camera.)
Scrambled eggs and black beans was one of my favorite breakfasts back when I was an omnivore. The first time I encountered this food combination was in 2001, when I spent a summer at an orphanage in Guatemala. At the time, I was a bit of a bean-aphobe. But because black beans were a part of most of the meals I was eating there, I was attempting to develop an appreciation for them. I started off eating two or three beans during each meal (and that's not an exaggeration). I worked up to a spoonful per meal. Then one day I was invited to eat dinner with a family I knew, and black beans and scrambled eggs were what was being served. In addition to being afraid of beans, I also was fairly afraid of offending anyone in my new home culture. I thought, "well, I've been working up to this, and maybe I'll just eat mainly eggs with a few bites of black beans and no one will notice." Not even close.  I watched as the mother placed one heaping spoonful of black beans onto my plate. I started to get nervous. But then before she handed me my plate, she delivered another huge spoonful to my plate. I was slightly petrified.

I watched as the three kids in the house began to eat - each bite was a quickly arranged combination of black and yellow. I tried doing what they were doing, attempting to fool my brain into thinking this was familiar food that I enjoyed. As I chewed, I noticed that there was a certain balance of textures and flavors. It was warm and hardy. A rich salty flavor. Would you believe, I ate the whole entire plate?? Something in my brain changed gears, and I found myself liking those black oval-shaped legumes! Since then, I've told myself that if you try a new or never-liked food 7 times with a good attitude, you will learn to like it.

I can't remember the boy's name but his sisters names' were Sefora and Abigail. Really nice kids, and I had an extra soft spot in my heart for Abigail (pronounced "Ah-bee-ga-eel" in Spanish), a precious 6-year old with the cutest short haircut. She would point to herself and say "Ah-bee-ga-eel," and then point to me and say "Ah-bee-ga-eel." It was almost as if finding another person who shared her name (who would play and talk with her) also affirmed not only her name, but her as a valuable person.

In addition to memories from that summer that haven't faded, my love of black beans has remained strong. At some point I learned how to make my own black beans that rivaled the bowlfuls I ate in Guatemala: sautee onions and garlic in a frying pan, add a can of beans with its liquid, add about 1/4 cup additional water, and let it boil/simmer for about 10 minutes. The beans come out soft and flavorful, and just saucy enough for eating on top of scrambled eggs.

Now that I've traveled and lived in a couple different countries, I find black beans to be a food that I will crave once in awhile, no matter how good the local cuisine is. In South Korea, I used to buy cans of black beans at the foreign food mart in Itaewon, Seoul. In Thailand, I treat myself every once in awhile to a meal at a Mexican restaurant that has a nice-sized helping of black beans. Here in Pennsylvania, I can easily buy a can of black beans, and I'm even getting accustomed to using the very inexpensive dried black beans which require some planning ahead and soaking.

Today I wanted to use up some tofu in the fridge, so I decided to try recreating "scrambled eggs" for the first time - for lunch (breakfast was my staple favorite oatmeal with fruit and nuts). I found this recipe on the Post Punk Kitchen website. It's more elaborate than I would have come up with off the top of my head. It's got garlic and mushrooms in there, along with a nice spice blend of tumeric (which gives the white tofu a nice yellowish-eggy color), thyme, cumin and paprika. The recipe called for 1/4 cup of nutritional yeast, which I had bought recently because I keep hearing about it on vegan blogs. Today I finally looked it up to see if people use it for more reasons than "to add a cheesy texture or flavor sprinkled on top of pasta or soup." The answer is YES! It's a source of protein and vitamins, especially the B Complex. Ah, Vitamin B12 - the one vitamin that's no longer easy to get from non-meat food sources (it comes from the ground and is found on vegetable skins but often gets scrubbed off nowadays). I sprinkled some on my pasta the other day... and wasn't so crazy about it. It doesn't taste like cheese in my opinion. It's kinda bitter and sour, and is really just flaky, not chewy or crunchy or anything like that. So for my scrambled tofu, I just added less than a tablespoon.

I cooked the black beans in a separate frying pan in the manner I described above, and each had about 10 minutes to cook and absorb their flavors. Then I served them up like so, complete with a glass of "morning" orange juice.

Like the star pattern? That just happened by chance, but I'll give myself a gold star for presentation and taste anyway. ;) If you're expecting typical egg flavor, you'll get more than you bargained for. Those spices I added were really nice. Not over the top at all. It was a nice warm homey flavor that had me shoveling in half-black-half-yellow spoonful after spoonful, just like those kids in Guatemala who first inspired me to eat and enjoy my black beans.

Sweet & Salty - Take 3

One day I made some black bean hummus in the morning using a one-pound package of dried black beans. I couldn't believe how much soaking and boiling it took to soften up those babies. So when I decided to make a last-minute pot of chili for an event later in the day (which I didn't end up going to!), I had no time for soaking. I ran to the grocery store and bought 3 cans of beans and a can of diced tomatoes. (I know I posted about chili the other day, but wait for it, the chili is just half of the pair....)

Leeks and a whole head (there were a lot of beans!) of garlic to start with, simmering in olive oil.

Then I added the can of tomatoes, which took awhile to break down. Next time I make chili, I'll use crushed tomatoes, or just finely chop up some fresh ones.

While that was steaming away, I picked out some spices to add. No measuring here, I basically just guess, and so far, I haven't had a chili turn out not delicious. My method of estimation is to picture how much of each I would add if it were just one can of beans, and then multiply by however many cans I'm using. This may go against conventional cooking wisdom, but I usually err on the side of adding too much flavor!

Black pepper, smoked paprika, basil, cumin, celery seeds, chili powder, parsley.  Fortunately the spice shelf is racked here - no time to harvest from the herbs on the deck today! After the tomatoes looked pretty well cooked down, I added all the beans and let it cook for over an hour.

After smelling the chili cook on the stove all that time, my appetite for savory/salty/spicy was pretty much full! So I gave the chili to the fam and pressed onward over the stove for something else I was craving...  I'll give you a hint: it went perfectly with this jar of natural sweetness:

Here's what it looked like while cooking:

No, not a mouth-less pimpled doll face. Banana Walnut Vegan Pancakes!

I honestly can't remember the last time I had pancakes... and they probably weren't vegan.  So this dairy-free egg-free batch was my dinner that night. I ate two big slightly-fluffy pancakes laden with melting bananas and chunks of walnuts, dressed with 100% sweet Pennsylvania maple syrup!

Needless to say, I didn't need any dessert after this dinner.  But, an hour later, while watching some Dog Whisperer on TV, I heated up some corn tortillas...

.. and sprinkled them with lime and salt!

Whether it's salty followed by sweet, or sweet followed by salty, this duo delivers on satisfaction.

For the pancakes, I used an incredibly easy recipe from this website. Only six ingredients; no need to have eggs on hand!

5-Minute Vegan Pancakes

1 cup flour

1 Tbsp sugar (I actually used 3/4 Tbsp agave instead*)

2 Tbsp baking powder (you can use less if you want)

1/8 tsp salt

1 cup soy milk *

2 Tbsp vegetable oil

Mix up the dry ingredients. Add agave (in my case), vegetable oil and soy milk; mix.

Drop spoonfuls of the batter onto an oiled griddle or frying pan. Add your choice of fruit, nuts, or other fillings. Flip over when you see bubbles forming in the middle of the pancake, or when the edges start to get stiffened.

*The general rule when substituting agave for sugar is to use 2/3 to 3/4 of the amount called for in sugar, and to reduce the liquid in the recipe by 1/4 to 1/3. So I started with 3/4 cup of soy milk in the batter, but it was too thick, so I ended up adding almost 1/4 of soy milk, just about bringing it back to amount called for.  I guess ctually didn't reduce the amount of soy milk I used in the recipe. 3/4 Tbsp of agave is really not a significant amount of liquid to add to pancake batter.

Of course, you can add any special flavors to your pancakes that you want: cinnamon and apple pieces, blueberries or other fruits, chocolate chips, shredded coconut, pecans.... The batter is your canvas!

Sweet & Salty - Take 2

Inspired from the previous night's success with dried beans (chili), I bought a one-pound bag of green lentils. I wanted to try out a Curried Lentils with Carrots and Peas recipe from a book I got at the library called "Vegan Planet," by Robin Robertson.

The initial setup and gathering of ingredients took a bit of time, but it did make me feel like I was really creating the flavors, rather than just using a pre-made curry paste or curry powder mixture.

Color palette components: curry powder, cardamom, cinnamon, dry mustard, chili powder, allspice and turmeric.

Garlic, leeks and ginger on their way into the food processor.  I cooked them in olive oil for about 5 minutes, and then added all the spices.  It took just 30 seconds to get it all combined, and it became this pat of aromatic goodness that looked just like what you would buy in a jar of "curry paste" - I was quite impressed with myself.  I wish I had a picture, but once it got to that point, I had to add the water right away so it wouldn't burn. Then I added the lentils.  After ten minutes, I added the carrot moon slices.

 

I let all that simmer for about 30 minutes (patience!!), and then I added the thawed peas, salt, pepper, and coconut milk.

It looked great, smelled pretty great, and was quite photogenic.  It tasted good.  Yes, I wouldn't say great.  It was actually not flavorful enough!  But the other eaters thought it tasted great.  So maybe I was experiencing the phenomenon of dulled senses.  Sometimes when I spend so much time over a dish, smelling all the ingredients as they go in and as they brew, my taste buds are so acclimated to the aroma that it no longer hits me once I sit down and eat it.  It's almost like my appetite gets satiated by the smells and little taste tests.  But I do have to say, I used "light" coconut milk, which definitely does not have as rich of a flavor.  And I could have added more salt.  So, next time?  Add more sweet (real coconut milk) and add more salt (we do need some salt in our diets!)  And, stay out of the kitchen during the 30 minutes of cooking!

Here's the recipe, copied straight from the book:
1 large yellow onion, cut into pieces (I used leeks because my dad doesn't like chewy onions)
2 garlic cloves, peeled
1 tsp peeled and chopped fresh ginger
2 Tbsp olive oil
1 Tbsp curry powder
1/2 tsp ground cardamom
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp dry mustard
1/4 tsp cayenne (I didn't have any so used chili powder)
1/4 tsp ground allspice
1/4 tsp turmeric
3 cups water
1 1/4 cups dried brow lentils, picked over and rinsed
2 medium-size carrots, halved lengthwise and cut into thin half-moons
3/4 cup frozen green peas, thawed
1 cup unsweetened coconut milk
Salt and freshly ground black pepper

1. In a food processor, puree the onion, garlic and ginger.
2. Heat the olive oil in large saucepan over low heat. Add the onion puree, cover, and cook to mellow the flavor, about 5 minutes, stirring a few times. Stir in the spices and cook, stirring, for 30 seconds. Add water and bring to a simmer. Add lentils, cover, and cook until tender, 30 to 40 minutes.  After 10 minutes, add carrots.
3. When lentils and carrots are tender, add peas, coconut milk, and salt and pepper to taste. Simmer, uncovered, to incorporate the flavors, about 10 minutes. Serve hot.

We ate this served over basmati rice, and ended up drizzling the rest of the can of coconut milk directly on top, for extra flavor. If you've never cooked Indian food or any kind of coconut curry, this recipe is a great place to start. It does involved a lot of different spices, but it's very easy and you can follow it directly, or trying adding extra coconut milk or spices to liven it up. Just follow your gut instinct for a balance of salt/spices and sweet coconut milk that works for you!

Sweet & Salty - Take 1

There are many things in life that make a great pair: peanut butter and jelly, orange and blue, Christmas morning and kids, the desire to travel and money, yoga and meditation, calm and assertive...  I could go on and on.  But for the purpose of this post, I want to share my recent indulgence in just one pair: sweet and salty.

I've been on a bit of a cooking binge lately.  I actually made chili twice in the last week!  The first time, I used dried beans from a one pound "bean medly" packet ($1.19 at Giant Eagle).  I put them in a crock pot with a bunch of water and let them soak overnight (no heat, just soaking).

The next day, I dumped out the water, rinsed off the beans, and put them back in the crock pot with fresh water.  And then added lots of herbs and spices: garlic, leeks, salt, pepper, olive oil, chili powder, cumin, smoked paprika, and honestly, I can't remember what else.  And a few big fresh tomatoes.  The smoked paprika was a new spice for me to add to anything.  It not only added a hint of nice woodsy flavor, but it made the chili turn bright orangeish-red!

I let it all brew in the crock pot for over four hours, simmering and flavorizing itself while I went about my day.  When it was dinner time, I served it up with some corn tortillas, squeezed lime juice on top, and paired it with a spinach-strawberry-walnut-zucchini salad.  I even squeezed some lime juice on the salad.  That's right, sweet, salty AND sour all together!

What's this?  Dunking?  Yes, Oreos are an accidental vegan snack!  I followed Dad's directions from childhood (after letting him give me another lesson just to make sure I had it down pat), submersing the cookie and until it stopped bubbling and then popping it into my mouth.  Soggy enough, but not falling apart.  Just watch for the air bubbles to stop rising.  You knew that, right?  :)  Not that the chili had very much salt in it, but these sweet cookies dipped in cold milk were the perfect dessert to top it off!

How do you pronounce "seitan?"

I didn't learn how to pronounced "seitan" until after I cooked with it.  According to some online sources, it's "SAY-tawn" (rhymes with "ray dawn" I suppose).  But what is it exactly? Fresh out of the refrigerated box in its vacuum-sealed packaging, I thought it looked a bit like mashed up chicken parts...

Wikipedia files seitan under its common name "wheat gluten," which gives you a clue that it's made out of wheat.  It's also called wheat meat, mock duck, gluten meat and just plain gluten.  "Gluten" is the protein composite in grains like wheat, barley and rye.  It literally means "glue," in Latin, which is why it gives elasticity to dough and helps bread to rise, keep its shape and have a chewy texture.  Wiki defines wheat gluten as "a food made from the gluten of wheat.  It is made by washing wheat flour dough with water until all the starch dissolves, leaving insoluble gluten as an elastic mass which is then cooked before being eaten.  It is an alternative to soybean-based meat substitutes such as tofu."  It definitely looks like meat, and you can tell it has undergone some processing or mashing to get into its current form.

Dictionary.com defines it as "a chewy neutral-flavored protein-rich food made of wheat gluten, used as a meat substitute in vegetarian dishes."

Longmans' definition adds a little twist: "Japanese food made from wheat, containing a lot of protein and usually eaten instead of meat."

Bear with me for one more definition; there's a point to this defining moment.  Mirrian Webster: "flavored wheat gluten often used as a meat analogue."

Did you notice anything those definitions all have in common?  Other than the fact that they are defining the same food?  Ok, so I bolded what I wanted to point out.  Seitan seems to be "not-something" as opposed to being what it is.  ...  Following me?  Seitan is an alternative, a substitute an analogue, an "instead."
Conversely, tempeh (which I cooked with and blogged about here) is defined for what it is, not for what it isn't.
Wiki: "a traditional soy product originally from Indonesia... made by natural culturing and controlled fermentation process that binds soybeans into a cake form."
Dictionary.com: "a fermented soybean cake."
Longmans: (not in their dictionary)
Mirrian Webster: "an Asian food prepared by fermenting soybeans with a rhizopus."

So I know tempeh was created to be what it is, but was wheat gluten really created by someone who wanted to eat something that reminded them of meat but wasn't meat?  This I do not have the answer to.

Anyway.... here's how I actually cooked the seitan:

Wellll, here's everything being cooked before the seitan.  Since seitan is already cooked, I had to get all the other components ready first. All four burners were going at the same time! Some whole wheat pasta, tomato sauce with a bunch of spices, steamed cauliflower, and the vegetables that went with the seitan.  Once the green beans, carrots and broccoli were almost done cooking, I added the seitan.

Then I poured in the pasta sauce and let it all cook together for a few minutes.

Here it is all served together, with some fresh lemon and ground pepper on top of the cauliflower.

It wasn't until a few years ago that I tried adding big chunks of vegetables to my pasta sauce.  In the past, I would have only put small chopped up pieces of mushrooms or peppers.  It kind of happened by accident one day, when I made pasta with tomato sauce and had steamed broccoli on the side.  But I wanted to eat in front of the TV or something with just one dish... so it all got combined, and I liked it!  So, there ya go.  Pasta sauce with lots of fresh veggies, on top of pasta.

So, the seitan tastes like... wheat.  It's meaty, but it's wheaty.  When you first bite into as part of the whole dish, it's just chewy and tastes like the rest of the dish.  But after a second or two, once the inside flavor comes out (it didn't absorb the vegetable and sauce flavor too deeply), you definitely taste the wheat.  I can imagine some people would describe the taste as something like wet cardboard... but I had no problem with it.  It is a different flavor.  It's something new.  I've never eaten something so wet and wheaty and chewy.  But I like it.  It adds another texture to the overall vegetable-sauce mixture.  And, obviously, it's not made from any animal parts and doesn't have the fat and cholesterol of animal meat.

I enjoyed some leftovers a day or two later for lunch out on the deck.  Notice the freshly stained decking?  ;)  

If you're curious, the package of seitan I bought was from Whole Foods Market, found in the refrigerated section near the tempeh and tofu.  This 8 oz package was $3.50.  And it was the last one they had in stock at the end of the day, so buying "cubed" was my only option.  It's also sold in strips and all ground up (like ground beef).  Next time I make something like this, I'd probably use the ground up version. It would also work perfectly in chili. Future grocery store trip to Whole Foods - hopefully coming up soon!

Parsley Sage Rosemary & Thyme

Truth be told, these two men were the inspiration for the most delicious meal I've cooked in possibly my whole life.  When I was about 14 years old, I listened to their "Bridge Over Troubled Water" 25 times in a row.  When I was 21, I danced through a grassy field singing "I'm on my way, but I don't know WHERE I'm goin', but I'm on my way.  Takin' my time but I don't know where...."  My mom introduced me to their music the day I bought "Concert in Central Park" - the last time they had sung together, and the month I was born (September 1981).  I thought I would never see them together in my lifetime; I had been born too late.  But I did.  Twice.  During their reunion tour.

I was about as ecstatic as I had ever been in my life.  Not because they were teenage heartthrobs, but because I had fallen in love with their melodies, harmonies, lyrics and cadences.  And while "Parsley, Sage, Rosemary & Thyme" was not my absolute favorite song of theirs (but definitely high on the list), it does have the ability to supersede recipe-following and taste-tasting.

The meal idea began to churn when my step-mom and I bought some "baby zucchini," which I had never seen before.  I started imagining how to cook them, and I thought of baking them instead of stir-frying (which is how I tend to cook a lot of vegetables).  Then I imagined a baking sheet full of all colors and shapes of vegetables, sprinkled with great herbs....

A trip to Verona's Thursday farmer's market provided an imagination's worth of vegetables to go along with the baby zucchini...

So I went to work cutting up all these amazing vegetables into the perfect sizes and shapes.  I filled up two baking sheets with the baby zucchini, carrots, little red potatoes (also very cute!), yellow squash, eggplant and cauliflower.  (The corn on the cob was cooked separately.)

And then I went to work creating my dream herb combination: parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme!!!

Ok, so there was no thyme growing in a pot on the deck!  But it was on hand (dried) in my parents' goldmine of a kitchen, and the other three were as fresh and local as humanly possible.  I was stoked!  I don't think I had ever cooked (or eaten?) anything with thyme, and I certainly had never had these four lyrical herbs together in one dish!  Did I need a recipe to verify their flavor meldability?  No, not when they were sung together with perfect harmony in Simon & Garfunkel's famous song.  Even though the song sings of impossibilites, I knew this herbal fusion would more than remedy my desire for a delicious dinner.

So I mixed up those herbs with some olive oil, salt, pepper, chives and garlic and smeared it all around on the veggies.  I thought about squeezing some lime juice in with the mixture, because it's one of my favorite flavors, but I thought it might be weird once it got heated up and cooked.... so I let it go.  Trust S&G.

I covered the sheets with aluminum foil to help them cook a little faster (and perhaps keep them from drying out?).  They still took a little while to bake, probably 45 minutes at 350 degrees F.  Also, I had boiled the carrots in water for about 10-15 minutes while I was cutting up all the other vegetables, because I thought they might not bake as quickly as the other.  It all worked out juuuuust right.

Every single one of those vegetables tasted amaaaaazing!  The baby zucchini were not only sophisticated and intriguing, but sweet and flavorful as well.  The eggplant had that great eggplant taste that doesn't exist when they're raw, you know what I mean?  Carrots, potatoes, squash - great.  And would you believe that the cauliflower may actually have been my favorite?  That simple white brassica is like a snowy cloud that melts in your mouth!

Don't let this small serving on the plate fool you - I'm sure each of us at the table had THREE servings of this size.  But there's more....

Did you forget there was un-husked corn in the picture of goodies from the farmer's market?  In the past I would have thought a dinner with a main dish of "vegetables" with a second dish of "a vegetable" would be... weird or unsatisfying or overkill.  In this case, the vegetables were taking so long to bake that we had the corn as an appetizer of sorts.  My preferred toppings for corn on the cob: lime and salt.  If you've never tried it, I would highly recommend it!  So, by time the veggies were done, our plates were empty - save for lime juice and salt.  So we spooned the baked veggies on top of that accidental concoction and I got to add my beloved lime juice flavor to the vegetable heap after all!  And THAT, my friend, was a very fortunate accident!  The steaming parsley-sage-rosemary-thyme-vegetable conglomeration was perfectly accented by the tangy and cold lime juice.  We even squeezed EXTRA juice on top of the veggies.  It was dee-lish.


Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme
Remember me to one who lives there
She once was a true love of mine


Tell her to make me a cambric shirt
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme
Without no seams nor needlework
Then she'll be a true love of mine


Tell her to find me an acre of land
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme
Between the salt water and the sea strand
Then she'll be a true love of mine


Tell her to reap it in a sickle of leather
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme
And to gather it all in a bunch of heather
Then she'll be a true love of mine


Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme
Remember me to one who lives there
She once was a true love of mine

I've never been able to figure out what the song means.  Is it "this is impossible" ?   Or is it "nothing is impossible" ?  Is it a hopeful song?  A song of lament?  A song of acceptance?  Just a reflection that isn't meant to portray any meaning beyond the simple fact that emotion is inevitably evoked in its hearing?  I'm not sure.  But one thing I know, this meal is a true love of mine.