wheat-free zucchini spice muffins

My garden continues to vomit zucchini at an alarming rate.

As my dear paternal grandmother would say -- I'm rich in zucchini.

And so it was time to make some of my favourite muffins. These puppies are wheat-free, low in fat, lightly sweet, mildly spiced, and tasty as all-get-out. They're not dense but they're definitely muffins. Breakfast fare. If you like your muffins cakey, go to Tim Horton's or Starbucks, cuz you sure won't get any of that from my kitchen.


wheat-free zucchini spice muffins

what you need ...

1 Tbsp. flax meal
3 Tbsp. warm water
1 c. unsweetened almond milk
1 1/2 tsp. apple cider vinegar
3 Tbsp. blackstrap molasses
3 Tbsp. unsweetened applesauce
1 Tbsp. canola oil
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1 c. finely grated zucchini (packed), excess moisture squeezed out

2 1/4 c. whole grain spelt flour (spooned and leveled, of course)
1 tsp. baking soda
1/4 tsp. salt
3/4 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp. grated nutmeg
1/8 tsp. ground allspice
1/3 c. unrefined sugar
1 c. jumbo flame raisins (or regular thompsons will do ...)

what you do ...

Preheat oven to 400°F and lightly grease 12 muffin cups.

In a medium-sized bowl, whisk together flax meal and water and set aside to get gloopy.

Combine almond milk and cider vinegar in a measuring cup or glass and set aside to sour.

While the milk's souring and the flax is getting down with its badself, get out a big bowl and mix together flour, salt, soda, and spices with a fork. Add sugar and stir well.

Now pour your soured almond milk into the bowl with the flax and whisk together. Add the rest of the second set of ingredients (except raisins) and mix well.

Now pour wet into dry, and mix just until it's all moistened. Don't overmix. You all know what happens to muffins when you overmix, yes? Yes. We don't want that.

Stir in raisins with as few strokes as possible.

Spoon batter into prepared muffin tins. Bake for 23-28 minutes, until a tester inserted in the middle of a muffin comes out clean.

Remove from tins immediately and let cool on a wire rack.

proud mother moment ...

The first of my yellow pear tomatoes was ripe and waiting for me when I got home from the office today! Infanticide has never been tastier.

yellow pear tomato, with stumpy lebanese sausage-hand for size reference ...

Real post this weekend. Promise.

I love it when mother nature cooperates ...

Yesterday I got home from work and, as usual, immediately de-bloused and headed out to the garden to weed and water and talk smack with my babies. For my troubles, I was rewarded with a few handfuls of yellow beans, about 2 kilos of gorgeous zucchini, bunch upon bunch of fresh basil and oregano and parsley, a couple pints worth of beautiful cherry tomatoes, and some lovely mixed greens and chicory.

My brain started churning over possibilities for the zucchini. I’ve been eating kawaj koosa (Lebanese stewed zucchini and tomatoes) pretty much weekly since the Great Zucchini Flood of ’08 first got underway, as well as raw zucchini spirals with home made marinara, zucchini salads, and zucchini stiryfrys. What I was really in the mood for was some roasted zucchini. But in this weather?

I decided to chance it.

After puttering around in my kitchen for a bit, I realized I had about 200 g. of purple shallots hanging out in my onion crock that wouldn’t be so happy in a couple days, and the deal was sealed. I threw veggies and herbs and seasonings in a massive Tupperware, sealed her up and threw her in the fridge to get all friendly-like over night. Then I crossed my fingers and hoped to hell it would be cool enough to turn on the oven when I got home the next night.

Well hot damn if mother nature didn’t decide to smile on me for once. That’s not to say I didn’t earn it – I spent all of today sitting in the university library scrolling through newspapers on microfiche for a work project, while the young woman at the machine next to me hummed along with her ipod and picked her nose. So, I like to think I took one for the team and the team noticed.

All that to present you with an entirely unattractive meal. Bet you’re happy you checked in today, aren’t you? The fact of cooking, as I’m sure you’re all well aware, is that even the tastiest stuff isn’t always all that photogenic. Hell, it doesn’t even necessarily look good in person. This is one of those dishes that looks good through tequila-goggles and quickly runs for the exit when the bartender screams last call and turns on the ugly lights. It’s the baby whose mother thinks she’s just the sweetest thing, but everyone else can only muster a she’s got character. I promise my next baby will be more of a looker.

I feel silly even giving a recipe for this, but really – it’s tasty and simple, and if you’ve got a ridiculous amount of zucchini at your back door it’s one of a million great ways to use it up…

white balsamic, agave, and fresh herb roasted garden veggies

what you need …

200 g. (ish) shallots, peeled, larger bulbs halved, small left whole
20 cloves garlic, peeled and left whole
2 c. yellow beans, chopped
4 medium zucchini, halved lengthwise and thickly sliced
a couple handfuls large cherry tomatoes
1 c. fresh basil, en chiffonade (loosely packed)
2 Tbsp. fresh parsley, chopped
1 Tbsp. fresh oregano
2 tsp. agave nectar (I like amber agave)
3 – 4 Tbsp. white balsamic vinegar *
½ tsp. sea salt
freshly ground black pepper (to taste)
lightly toasted pine nuts, flax oil (optional)

what you do …

Combine veggies in a large Tupperware container, mix with herbs, then toss with agave, balsamic, salt, and pepper. Seal and stick in the fridge to marinate over night (shake it a couple times if you think of it).

The next day, turn your broiler on at 400°F, throw the veggies in a large roasting pan, and set them on a rack in the upper-third of your oven. That’s it. Check ’em and mix ’em up occasionally while they’re roasting.

Serve tossed with lightly toasted pine nuts and a drizzle of flax oil (for those healthy, tasty omegas).

* you can of course use regular balsamic vinegar, but (caveat lector) it will colour the veggies.

garlic scape and coriander chutney

I was first introduced to garlic scapes (and ramps, and lambs’ quarters, and so many other fabulous forage-ables this country has to offer) about 14 years ago while doing my counselor’s training at Au Grand Bois - a vegan not-for-profit summer camp in Québec. The camp was an amazing place, run by back-to-the-land draft-dodgers from the States, which has sadly since closed its doors. The focus was on sustainable living, with solar -powered and –heated everything, where campers and staff were encouraged to learn about organic agriculture by working in one of the many gardens.

I’ve been a garlic lover all my life, having been force-fed it since birth both as a food and a medicine by my grandmother, who rubbed it on our bee stings to ease the pain, made poultices with it to reduce swelling, and swore that a raw clove of garlic every morning was far better than an apple a day [everyone, myself included, thought she was crazy. Lo, years later, it is considered a nutritional wonder-food, with emerging research touting its cardiovascular, antibacterial, anti-viral, anti-inflammatory, and anti-carcinogenic benefits. Once again proving that my grandmother is a genius. All the kids in my grade school who called me a stinky Leb can suck it.] I thought I knew everything there was to know about this pungent gift from the gods (being a teenager and knowing everything about everything, period, probably didn't hurt) from my grandmother's teachings, however she had never once mentioned that not only were the green garlic shoots edible, but tasty to boot.

So you can imagine my surprise when one of the farmers at Au Grand Bois snapped off a tall, green, curly shoot from the garlic patch and told me to munch away. But I did. And if I could remember his name I’d send him a case of rye every summer when the first scapes show up at the market (if anyone knows a middle-aged blonde hippie who lives out of a VW Westfalia and has a kid named Merlin, give him a high-five for me).

With scapes making their brief and long-awaited appearance at the organics stall of the farmer’s market, and coriander threatening to take over my garden, it was the perfect time to make one of my all-time favourite condiments – garlic scape and coriander chutney. If you’re finding yourself facing the same wonderful predicament, give it a shot. If you like things that are spicy and flavourful and look like radioactive toxic waste but taste like heaven, then you shouldn’t be disappointed.

garlic scape and coriander chutney

what you need …

2 c. (packed) fresh coriander, leaves and tender stems, coarsely chopped
1 c. garlic scapes, topped and chopped
2 medium fresh green chilis, seeded and chopped
2 inches fresh ginger, peeled and finely sliced
1/2 a small white onion, chopped (about ½ cup)
1 lime, juiced
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. ground cumin
a few turns freshly ground black pepper

what you do …

Heat a dry skillet over medium-high and roast the cumin until fragrant, watching closely to ensure it doesn’t burn. Remove from skillet and set aside.

Combine all ingredients in a food processor and blend until puréed, stopping frequently to scrape down the sides of the bowl.

Store in a glass jar in the refrigerator. Use as you would any other spicy chutney, or eat it with a spoon. Should last about a week.

* This chutney, as most others, is best if made at least a few hours, and preferably a day, before you plan to eat it to allow the flavours a chance to get all friendly.

This is my first cooking related / recipe post, and it just happens to be herb friendly, so in the spirit of "if-you're-gonna-do-it-overdo-it" I'm submitting it to the Weekend Herb Blogging event, which this week is being hosted by Archana's Kitchen.


Oh, and --- I picked the first cherry tomatoes of the season in my garden today. I'm geeking out hard.

how does your garden grow?

Organically, for starters. And well, thank you for asking. Very, very well, if I may be such a braggart.

Some people are born with silver spoons tucked into their arsenal for surviving the world. Some with horseshoes up their asses. Others are born with an artist’s eye.

Me, I was born with a green thumb. Two of ’em. And fingers, too, I suspect. The horticultural equivalent of the Midas Touch, if you will, minus all the curse-related nonsense and cautionary tales (I may rethink this if my giant zucchini plants ever start walking menacingly towards me).

I’m the girl always foraging in the market stalls for the most depressed, decrepit plants to take home. My apartments have always looked like rooming houses for misfit flora. People have always brought me their sad, dead vegetation and asked me to work my zombie magic, which I’m more than happy to do. But there’s not a chance in hell I’d ever return the abused specimen to their bloodied hands after I’ve nursed it back to health.

cherry tomatoes

first raspberries of the season

Growing up, I’d helped my paternal grandmother with her veggie patch. Immediately upon moving from Lebanon to Canada some 50 years ago she had started shoveling manure in order to grow anything and everything she possibly could that couldn’t be found at the time in her new country (like garlic, the lack of which is for me unimaginable). She turned her backyard in downtown Ottawa into an organic mini-farm, filled with wild grapes (both for the fruit and leaves), Lebanese cucumbers and zucchini, flat beans, tomatoes, peas, onions, garlic, lettuce, parsley, chickpeas, chard, mint, spinach, and even a peach tree. The garden’s still there, although now it’s tended by my aunts as my grandmother’s mobility is limited (but don’t think that stops her from sitting on the porch and directing operations).

Armenian cucumbers

baby green zebra tomatoes

incredibly phallic-looking zucchini

When I was planning my move out here at the end of last summer, one of my biggest requirements was finding an apartment with enough outdoor space that I could have a small vegetable garden, even if only a container garden. While phone-interviewing from Ottawa with my future landlord/neighbour, I asked if she’d mind me filling my porch to overflowing with vegetables. Mind? She told me that she and her husband had been wanting to put in an organic vegetable garden in their massive yard ever since they’d bought their house, but had no idea how to go about doing it.

mixed baby heirloom lettuces

coriander

The rest, as they say, is tasty tasty history …

I sourced out local and online organic and heirloom seed suppliers, and started my seeds indoors in late winter to be ready for the short growing season in our zone. In the spring we built three raised beds using non-pressure-treated cedar posts, figuring that would be a good start to expand on in coming years, and filled them with organic topsoil and organic composted sheep manure.

parsley

Genovese basil

yellow wax bush beans

For my first garden in this new climate, I decided to stick with what I knew. My planting list included 5 types of heirloom tomatoes ("tumbler" cherry tomatoes, green zebra, yellow pear, crimean red, and beefsteak), red peppers, 3 zucchinis (black king heirlooms), 2 Armenian cucumbers (sadly, I couldn't find organic Lebanese cucumbers this year), yellow wax beans (again, sadly, couldn't find organic Lebanese loubieh, also known as roma bush beans, in time), eggplant, 5 curly parsley (to feed my tabouleh addiction), green onions, carrots, mixed chicory, mixed heirloom baby greens, and various herbs (Genovese basil, oregano, coriander, mint, chives) to complement the garden's already established rhubarb and raspberry patches.

Next year, if I'm still around, we plan to expand and add garlic, red onions, sweet and red potatoes, Lebanese cucumbers and zucchini, loubieh, pear and cherry trees, spinach, romaine, and rainbow chard to the mix.

red peppers, still green

I brushed up on companion planting, get down and dirty with weeding and maintenance daily after work, and everything seems to be happy and thriving in the pesticide-free set-up. Also doesn't hurt to have a little helper --- the landlords'/neighbours' little girl gets a kick out of helping with the watering.

At this point, I'm harvesting zucchinis and raspberries, and cherry tomatoes will start being ready this week. All the herbs and greens/chicory I've had to harvest pretty much every other day for the last month, and I've been getting upwards of 2 pounds of parsley weekly (my iron levels, I'm sure, have never been higher).

So ... after all that --- how does your garden grow?