'Billie Shakespeare's Healthy Garden Smoothie

"Our bodies are our gardens-- our will  are our gardeners." William Shakespeare (or, as I affectionately refer to him: "Billy Shakers")  

It's the new year! Again! I'm pretty sure the last time I posted in this blog consistently it was "the new year" which, of course, is now last year. Ah, the best laid plans...

At any rate, although I try to believe that every day is a fresh start, the idea of a brand new year can be very inspiring. It's a chance to put all the bull shit of last year behind us, start fresh and make changes.
That said, I didn't make any resolutions this year. Not because I don't believe in resolutions, but because I think we should train ourselves to make resolutions and changes throughout the year, not just at the beginning of it. Still, I was feeling pretty 'resolutioney' the last couple days, when all of a sudden two things hit me:
1. I love smoothies
2. I have a brand new Ninja 1200.
oh and also 3. I love vegetables (especially in smoothies)
Okay, it was more than two things. It was a pretty inspired revelation, but I didn't say it made me good at counting.

So yea, I decided to start making (and consuming) "green" smoothies.

If you aren't familiar, a green smoothie is a smoothie with lots of vegetables, that usually winds up looking very questionable, but tasting delicious. The idea is that when you mix up lots of raw vegetables with raw fruit, it masks the taste. But I find, the vegetables themselves taste good. Once you get used to it.
I used to make smoothies all the time, but with yogurt. But for this smoothie, I wanted to "super fucking healthy" approach, which means: no sugar, no yogurt, no anything except raw veggies and fruits.

...
But, I told myself I would probably cave and add sugar, just so I wasn't dissapointed later on. Au contra ire silly mind of self. This smoothie is completely delish, and like, the healthiest thing you will ever eat. I promise. Make it, and that Shakespeare guy? He was pretty smart. Our bodies really kind of are our gardens. If we take care of them, they take care of us.

Here's to a healthy and inspired 2013.

Good Food for Better Times Stew

Someday, perhaps I will develop a little bit of follow-through.
My inability to finish things I start is a huge downfall. Anyway, I suppose I should just keep trying, so here we are again.

My life has changed so much since I was last on this little blog, that I can't even really believe it. I live in St. Louis now, which is a huge foodie city, and completely awesome, and, although I cook more, I like it less, because it's such a necessity now that I live on my own and am flat broke. That's no excuse though! So, as I prepare to ring in the new year, I will also try to update this more. No resolutions, just an honest attempt.

Now that winter is finally starting to show it's ugly face, I want to cook more and more. My crock pot is my best friend, and I buy so many potatoes it should probably be illegal.

Beef stew is the ultimate peasant food: warm, cheap, versatile and a little goes a long ways. So, although I feel ridiculous typing up a recipe for it, I did, because Beef Stew is one of those things that makes you feel like everything is probably going to be alright. The ultimate comfort food.
Lately it seems like everybody is so worried about money, and jobs, and success, and happiness. Sometimes its good to remind yourself that things can be simple, and still be wonderful.
As good 'ol Thoreau said:
"However mean your life is, meet it and live it: do not shun it and call it hard names. Cultivate poverty like a garden herb, like sage. Do not trouble yourself much to get new things, whether clothes or friends. Things to do not change, we change. Sell your clothes and keep your thoughts."
To paraphrase: don't trouble yourself about expensive food, make some delicious stew. Stew doesn't change, we change.

Sometimes, you just have to make bread twice in a week.

I was going to cook chicken gizzards. Correction: I AM going to cook chicken gizzards (which I love so so soooo much. Seriously, if you haven't had a good fried gizzard, you haven't lived), but then, I was reading-- books always ruin my plans-- and found this: 


“When the girl returned, some hours later, she carried a tray, with a cup of fragrant tea steaming on it; and a plate piled up with very hot buttered toast, cut thick, very brown on both sides, with the butter running through the holes in it in great golden drops, like honey from the honeycomb. The smell of that buttered toast simply talked to Toad, and with no uncertain voice; talked of warm kitchens, of breakfasts on bright frosty mornings, of cosy parlour firesides on winter evenings, when one’s ramble was over and slippered feet were propped on the fender, of the purring of contented cats, and the twitter of sleepy canaries.”
- Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows

Now, I have never been a huge Wind in the Willows  fan. And by that, I mostly mean I never really read it as a kid. I developed this mental block that I would occasionally get for some books, most of which I wound up loving later. Key examples of this are; James and the Giant Peach and A Wrinkle in Time. 
So I was surprised, but probably shouldn't have been, by how much I love the little bit I read of this book. I added it to my Goodreads 2012 book list, and then felt the undeniable urge to make toast for Toad. But, as you may know, toast generally starts with bread. So I made bread... again. Seriously, I never bake this much bread. I'm on a DIET for crying out loud. But clearly, Toad is forcing my hand here.
This bread turned out to be slightly sweet and dense but not 'chewy.' Absolutely perfect toasted, with a little honey, lots of butter and a cup of tea. As I ate it, I realized that there is very little that a well executed meal (or I guess, 'snack') can't fix.

So here is Wind and the Willows molasses and honey, soft wheat toasting bread. 

Thoroughly Thoreau

The inspiration for this bread came from this quote by Thoreau :

"he who distinguishes the true savor of his food can never be a glutton; he who does not can never be otherwise."
Our culture has become so removed from our food that I think many of us have lost the ability to truly 'savor' it. How can you really enjoy a piece of processed turkey on a store bought loaf of preservative laden bread? Just my thought of the day.
Anyway, that prompted me to make my own bread, which was generally successful. Although a little dense. Next time I'll reduce the oats a bit.

As I was baking, it occured to me that it's not entirely 'normal' that my recipe inspiration is -more often than not- literary. I like to think that it's the natural progression of an English major turned foodie; the perfect culmination of the mental craft of great writing, and the physical craft of great cooking.

Either way, it's been going on too long to chang it now. Until the authors start talking to me, I think I'm safe.
Here's the recipe:

Hemingway is a slippery bastard, when it comes to cupcakes.

Let's talk about Hemingway.

For years (okay, a year), everytime I look at a cupcake I think, "If Hemingway were a dessert, what kind would he be?" Kind of strange, yes, but I prefer to not delve too deep into the inner workings of my mind.
The Hemingway Cupcake (or cookie, I haven't decided yet) spurred a lot of other literary dishes (for example, the "Walt Whitman's America" turnover) and I started thinking 'hey genius, maybe you should stop writing these on post it notes and sticking them on the living room table, where -ineveitably- they get eaten or peed on by one of the five cats, and start keeping track of them somewhere. Oh hey, what about that internet thing? Maybe you should use it.'
So now I have this blog where I can post my culinary masterpieces and (ouch) failures. And probably some other stuff as well.
Hopefully, if I keep at it, soon I'll be able to pin good ol' Ernie down and force him to tell me what kind of liquor (let's be honest, there has to be liquor) I should use to make his namesake.