So of course I called my dentist and ran it by him, and he confirmed that it would be too harsh for daily use, but once a week would be fine… and so the search continued.

Then I came across this article, and had my “AHA” moment. I followed up on some of the links and references and found it pretty helpful. So here’s the recipe for our new toothwash—a much gentler version of the pastes and powders, but retaining the cleansing and antimicrobial properties, etc.

Tooth Wash

• 1 cup water
• 1 tsp. baking soda
• 1 tsp. sea salt
• 2 or 3 drops of tea tree oil

Put all ingredients in a bottle, shake well to combine thoroughly. Add a couple drops of spearmint or peppermint oil if you like for flavor—I actually like it straight up just fine, but that’s me. Before brushing, pour a bit of the toothwash on the bristles of your toothbrush and gently brush-a brush-a brush-a! After brushing, swish the solution thoroughly around your mouth before spitting. Admire you gleaming chompers.

So for the bulk sausage, we’ve tried and enjoyed hot sausage as well as sage sausage, both of which we buy from local farms—pork or lamb sausage. If you’re vegetarian, this would work fine with a marinated tempeh. Also, if fennel is hard to come by, you might try it with celery or even coarsely chopped cabbage—just be sure to let me know how it is!

Gluten Free Pasta with Fennel and Sausage

• 0.75 to 1 pound bulk spicy sausage (or sage)
• 1 large bulb of fennel, sliced
• 1 large onion, sliced in half circles
• 3 or 4 carrots, sliced on an angle
• 2 Tbsp safflower (or other high heat) oil
• Sea salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste
• 10 to 12 oz (2 to 3 cups) quinoa pasta elbows (0r other GF pasta)
• 1/4 cup fresh parsley, chopped
• Parmesan, optional garnish

Preheat oven to 425. Combine first 6 ingredients (through salt and pepper) in a 9 x12 casserole, tossing to combine, being sure to break the bulk sausage up into bite-sized pieces. Cook 30 minutes or till the carrots and fennel are tender.

Meanwhile, cook pasta in salted water. Drain, shock with cold water, and set aside.

When sausage mixture is done baking, toss with the pasta and parsley. Serve hot, with a light sprinkling of parmesan or other hard cheese.

I am what I call “undiagnosed Celiac.” Translated, that means that we pretty much know that’s what made me sick for a decade before I stopped eating gluten. On top of Carol’s laundry list of delightful symptoms, when I first began to develop Celiac at age 18 or 19 (long before we knew what it was), I was a freshman in college, eating meals at the cafeteria, which meant all food was served on bread, in bread, topped with croutons, or over pasta. When the symptoms began to hit, they hit like a wrecking ball, and my body’s reaction? I stopped eating. I became anorexic—not anorexia nervosa, in which a person is trying to lose weight, but anorexia, in which I just couldn’t eat. I averaged a bowl of oatmeal in my dorm room each day. Just walking by the cafeteria, the smell of the food would make me nauseous.

Well, I at least made the connection then that cafeteria eating was not the way to go. I starting cooking more foods for myself, or buying premade health foods at the natural foods store. It got better-ish, but I never got well. I got used to running at extreme highs and lows of energy, having awful bouts of diarrhea, I experienced many times the mad dash for the bathroom. I also remember the weird rashes, headaches, horrible mood swings, joint pain. I got used to being ill. For ten years.

Then I met a lovely woman who happened to have Celiac. We became friends, and one night, over a bottle of wine and some lovely gluten free homecooking in her kitchen, I told her about my experience, starting with the anorexia and depression, straight on through a recent experience of falling apart in the middle of Lowes after eating a couple pancakes for breakfast. This wonderful person made the connection, thanks be to the PTB, and said, “Hmmm. That sounds a lot like what I went through before I was diagnosed. Maybe you should try being gluten free?”

I set a date—May 1, 2007—to start my gluten free regimen, giving myself a couple weeks to replace pantry items and educate myself. And then I jumped in with both feet. Luckily I had a guide who helped me find the best products, and then I re-taught myself how to cook. May 1, 2007, was the first day of my life as a well person.

After a few months, I talked to my dad the doctor about how to get an official diagnosis. He asked, “How do you feel now?” I said, well, I don’t feel sick (insert laundry list of complaints here). He said, “Well, if you really want to confirm that you have Celiac, you just have to start eating gluten again, get sick again, and run a test that your insurance won’t cover. Or you could just keep doing what you’re doing.” I love my dad. He’s pragmatic.

So that’s what I did. I got used to being well, and after being well for a while, my body started to talk to me again, started to trust me again. It started to tell me what felt good, what it craved, what it wanted to avoid. My mind and body reunited, became this power-house team, helping each other, talking to each other, partnered to learn how to live/cook/eat/exercise as well as we could. It’s thrilling to not see your body as the enemy.

There are still times when I get sick with the flu or eat a bad meal or push myself too hard at the gym, and I will begin to gripe at my body, but it doesn’t last long—I quickly remember what my body went through for so long, that now it talks to me, that now it’s unusual to be sick, it stands out rather as the exception rather than the norm or just  “worse than usual.” My body is my long lost friend, found again.

Slainte.

I fully admit that I’m a woman given to superlatives, but there it is: these are the best Brussels sprouts I’ve ever eaten. Anywhere. Happy accidents are, well, happy. And tangy, and sweet, and just a little spicy.

It all started with a trip to the grocery store. Damon and I have been planning our annual vegetable gardens for the year, and he has been seriously excited about growing Brussels sprouts for the first time ever. Have you seen how they grow? They look like one of those wacky lollipop displays where all the lollipops are sticking out of the display column, only green, and instead of lollipops it’s little tiny cabbages, and at the top there’s this unruly bunch of leaves that make the whole thing look sorta Fraggle-ish. Anyhoo. I saw in the market that they had Brussels sprouts for sale on the stalk!!! I thought for half a second about the look on Damon’s face and had to get them. And I was right—he lit up :)

Enter part two, wherein we try to figure out what the heck to do with the sprouts. Having a grapefruit on hand that was getting a bit soft, here’s what we came up with. And we both agreed, these are the best Brussels sprouts we’ve had, ever, anywhere.

So without further ado…

Best Ever Brussels Sprouts with Grapefruit

• 24 oz. Brussels sprouts, cut in half
• Safflower oil (or other high heat oil)
• 1 or 2 cloves of garlic, minced
• 1/2 tsp crushed red pepper
• 1 Tbsp agave nectar
• Juice of one ripe grapefruit
• Sea salt to taste
• 1/2 c. pecans, barely toasted and coarsely chopped

Pour a glug or so of safflower oil into a broad-bottomed skillet, enough to coat the bottom. With the pan still cold, add in the garlic and crushed red pepper, stirring it in the oil. Heat the pan over Medium-high just until the garlic starts to cook and become aromatic.

Add the Brussels sprouts, stirring once to coat them in the oil, sprinkle with a little salt, then let them rest in the pan without stirring for 5 to 10 minutes, to get a nice browning on them.

Add grapefruit juice and agave syrup, and cook 5 minutes more or until tender  but still bright green, stirring occasionally. Remove from heat. Add salt to taste, if necessary, and toss with pecans. Serve hot.

Serves 4 to 6.

I love risotto, and beyond the obvious loving to eat risotto, I love to make risotto. Let me be clear: making risotto is not hard, but it takes a long time. It is a labor of love. If you cringe at the idea of standing in front of a stove for an hour or so, this recipe is not for you.

If you’re like me, however, and the thought of sauteing mushrooms, stirring slowly in mindful meditation, sipping on a glass of red wine, breathing in the rich scent of slow-cooked butter and the forest floor, this is for you. Put on some good music (we played Sigur Ros this time, and I’ve enjoyed Over the Rhine in the past, but any warm mellow music will work), prep all your ingredients, pour yourself a glass, and get cooking.

Making risotto is not a chore that we have to do sometimes. Making risotto is something we get to do, when we have the time, when we have the right mindset. It’s a little mini-vacation in the kitchen. A labor of love.

NOTES: Homemade broth is best (vegetable, chicken, lamb—oh lamb would be great!). I make my broth in big batches and then freeze it for future use. If you’re doing this, be sure to thaw it and bring it to room temperature before using, and I find it helpful to have my stock close by in a quart jar for easy measuring. Also, yes, butter is necessary—accept no substitutions. And finally, most risotto recipes call for arborio rice. I personally love using brown rice, have also made it with red rice, a wild rice blend, and quinoa. You might want to follow the recipe straight the first time till you get the hang of it, but after that, feel free to experiment! Plus then you can play with the name—quinotto, milletto, etc. (I haven’t tried this yet with millet, but I would love to! I also wonder if oat groats might hold up to it… if you try it, let me know how it goes!)

Mushroom Risotto

• 6 Tbsp butter, divided
• 14 oz. fresh crimini mushrooms (or your favorite fungus), sliced
• 2 4-inch sprigs of fresh rosemary
• 1 small onion or half a large onion, diced
• 1 1/2 c. long grain brown rice
• 1/2 c. red wine (see, some of it even makes it into the food!)
• 4 c. good-quality stock  (I use chicken)
• 1/2 c. parmesan
• salt and pepper to taste

Prep all ingredients in advance—you will thank yourself later while you placidly stir, humming along with your music of choice. If you don’t prep, you will not enjoy the process quite as much :)

Heat a broad-bottomed deep skillet over medium. When it is hot, add 4 Tbsp of the butter and melt. Add the mushrooms, stirring constantly, about 8 minutes. At first they’ll soak up all the liquid, but then as they cook the juices will come out and become nice and brown and bubbly and smells oh-so-good… Use a slotted spoon to remove the mushrooms from the pan, leaving the juice. Set mushrooms aside.

Add to the skillet the remaining 2 Tbsp butter, then the garlic, onion, and rosemary. Saute for 3 to 4 minutes till the onion is softened and starting to turn translucent. Add the rice and stir, coating it with the butter, for 2 or 3 minutes—the rice will become shiny and semi-translucent. Add the mushrooms back in, and add the wine. Stir to combine.

Add 1/2 cup of broth at a time, each time waiting until the prior addition has been mostly absorbed before added more. Stir constantly. This will take a while. Settle in, relax, enjoy it. Continue adding and stirring until the rice is just softened but still has a touch of firmness to it  (Snoopy said, “It ain’t over till Al says ‘Dente!’”). This was at exactly four cups of stock for me, but if it takes less, it takes less. If you need more liquid, add more water from a teapot or wine or stock if you have it on hand. You get the picture.

Once the risotto is just about done, remove the rosemary sprigs, then stir in the parmesan. Adjust seasoning with salt and pepper (I don’t think I’ve ever had to add salt, but fresh ground pepper is great). Garnish with grated parm and maybe some fresh parsley.

Serves 4 as a main course, 6 to 8 as a side dish.

What’s your favorite risotto combination? brainstorms? favorite moody cooking music?

So here’s my favorite non-cookie holiday dessert recipe of the year. My friend Sue found the original version in the Southern Living Christmas Cookbook, and being a lovely and thoughtful person, borrowed a half-cup GF flour from me so I could eat it,too. She also cut the sugar in half.

I love the tartness of cranberries contrasted with the sweet buttery crunch of the topping, so I decided to make my own version, using lower glycemic sweeteners palm sugar and agave nectar. Also, i used an all-purpose flour mix based on Gluten-Free Girl’s recipe, but feel free to use the same weight in your favorite flour/blend, and let us know how it worked! Pictured is the pie partially assembled, before adding coconut and the top “crust.”

Gluten Free Cranberry Surprise Pie

• 3 c. fresh cranberries
• 3/4 c. frozen blueberries, thawed
• 1/3 c. chopped raw pecans
• 1/3 c. unsweetened shredded coconut
• 1/3 c. plus 2 Tbsp agave nectar
• 1/2 c. palm sugar
• 1 large egg
• 90 grams gluten free all-purpose flour mix
• 6 Tbsp butter or coconut oil, melted

Preheat oven to 325 F.

Combine cranberries and blueberries and place in a lightly-greased 9-inch pie plate. Sprinkle pecans and coconut evenly over the berries, then pour the agave nectar evenly over it all.

In a small bowl, whisk together the egg and palm sugar till smooth. Add flour and melted butter and mix well. Pour the batter evenly over the pie filling

Bake for one hour or until the crust is firm and golden in the center. Cool on a wire rack. Serves 6.

We are looking forward to so much this coming year: Damon and I are getting married in May, my brother and his wife are due to have their first child any moment now (!!), and there are so many exciting projects and opportunities on the horizon. But this past week brought us some bittersweet-ness as we said goodbye to 2010. See, we recently lost a beloved canine member of the household, Bane, Damon’s companion of nearly 15 years, and several family members are having health concerns… suffice to say I felt compelled to make some comfort food.

This dish is an adaptation of one I had at a friend’s house several years ago—the meal that served as my gateway-dish to mushroom appreciation (I previously had not been a fan, but I have realized now the error of my ways). So simple and warm and satisfying, this dish breathes love.

Goat Cheese Stuffed Portobellos

• 4 large portobello mushrooms, stems and gills removed
• 1/8 c. dried tomatoes
• 4 Tbsp safflower oil
• 1/4 c. red wine
• 8 oz. goat cheese
• 1 Tbsp fresh herb, chopped (I used marjoram)
• 2 Tbsp parsley, chopped
• Freshly ground black pepper
• salad greens

Put dried tomatoes in a small ramekin and cover with boiling water. Set aside to soften. If using sundried tomatoes in oil, you can skip this step.

Place portobello caps upside down in a baking pan or casserole with a rim (to catch any drippings). Pour a Tbsp safflower oil into each of the caps, followed by a quarter of the wine into each (1/16 cup into each). Marinate for 30 minutes.

Preheat oven to 400 F. Bake mushrooms for 5 to 8 minutes. Remove from oven and allow to cool slightly.

In a small bowl, combine goat cheese, herbs, and pepper. Add in the now-softened tomatoes (chop if necessary) and some of the liquid from the tomatoes, just until combined and slightly creamy.

Fill each portobello with a quarter of the cheese mixture. Return the mushrooms to the oven and bake for another 2 or 3 minutes.

Garnish with herbs, parmesan, and/or a drizzle of good quality olive oil. Serve over a salad of fresh greens.

Serves 4.

I’m so impressed with my fiancé. Really, he’s just… there’s not a sufficient adjective really. Not only is he fun and goofy and kindhearted, not only does he patiently put up with my sometimes mercurial temperament, but he’s upped the ante on kitchen antics—big time.

So I got home from work last week to discover that Snoopy (aka Damon) had made gluten free pasta from scratch, something I myself had not yet attempted. We whipped up some spicy pumpkin tomato sauce and feasted. It was full of yay. The pasta recipe is below, and don’t be afraid: it’s not hard! No special equipment, in fact we don’t own a rolling pin, so Snoopy (who is not gluten free except by association) ended up using a large beer bottle to roll out the dough, as pictured below.

So then I got to thinking, hmmm, lasagna… mmmm…. See, we were going to my pal Samson’s for dinner and a movie, and not only is Samson a ridiculously talented musician/composer/conductor/arranger (check out his tunes on cdbaby!), but he’s also no slouch in the kitchen. Lasagna with homemade pasta might just fit the bill. And seeing as Samson went back for seconds and thirds, Snoopy and I feel pretty good about sharing this recipe with you.

We’ll start with the pasta recipe, which Damon has kindly written up. Following that is the lasagna recipe. Hooboy, enjoy!

Gluten Free Brown Rice Pasta

Credit to Bob’s Red Mill for recipe inspiration. Flour and starches used in our batch were all Bob’s products as well. This recipe has rolled out multiple times for us to be cut as thin noodles (pictured above) as well as the larger lasagna sheets.

• 1/2 cup brown rice flour
• 1/4 cup corn starch
• 1/4 cup potato starch
• 1 tsp xantham gum
• 1/2 tsp sea salt
• 1 large egg
• 1 tsp olive oil
• 4-5 tsp water (or more)

Sift dry ingredients ingredients into a bowl. Beat egg and oil together, then mix into the bowl with dry ingredients. Mix well using a fork or your hands, adding 1 tsp of water at a time until you can pull all the dough up into a ball. We’ve found if all you have are small eggs adding additional teaspoons of water brings it to the right consistency nicely. Just add water until the dough is firm and dry, not sticky.

Place dough on a counter dusted with extra brown rice flour and knead by hand for 5 minutes. Place back in bowl, cover, and let the dough rest for 30 minutes.

After 30 minutes,  place the dough on a lightly floured board and start rolling it out. Even if it’s still a little crumbly, the dough will roll out pretty flat. I had to keep cutting it and rolling it back in, mostly to keep it fitting on the dinky cutting board I was rolling on. When at your desired thickness (the thinner, the better), set the pasta sheets aside to dry on wax paper for another 30 minutes before cooking. If you’re making cut pasta, slice it before letting it dry. Any pasta not used in the dish can be kept in the fridge for a few days.

Sausage, Spinach, & Mushroom Lasagna

• 1 recipe of the above pasta, rolled out in sheets (uncut and uncooked)
• 0.75  lb. bulk sausage of choice (we used a local sage sausage—deelish—Italian would also be good)
• 1 tsp. fennel seed
• 10 oz. crimini mushrooms, sliced
• 1/8 c. white balsamic vinegar
• 1/8 c. water
• 1 lb. frozen spinach, thawed and drained
• 28 oz. crushed tomatoes
• 1/4 c. fresh chopped herbs of choice
• 1/2 t. cinnamon
• 16 oz. ricotta
• 8 oz. mozzarella

In a large deep skillet over medium to medium-high heat, cook sausage until browned, adding the fennel seed halfway through. Remove the sausage with a slotted spoon and set aside. Add to the drippings in the pan the mushrooms, saute a minute or two, then add the vinegar and water, and continue to cook, stirring often, until mushrooms are soft. Remove pan from heat and add back in the sausage as well as the spinach. Stir well and set aside.

In a bowl, combine the tomatoes, herbs and cinnamon. Set aside.

Preheat oven to 350. Use butter to grease a 9″x13″ casserole dish. Layer in the lasagna ingredients in the following order:

1. Tomato mixture – just enough to coat the bottom of the dish
2. Pasta (mix and match it to form a solid layer)
3. Half the ricotta
4. Half the sausage mixture
5. Tomato mixture
6. A third of the mozzarella
7. Pasta
8. Remaining ricotta
9. Remaining sausage mixture
10. Tomato mixture
11. A third of the mozzarella
12. Pasta
13. Remaining tomato mixture
14. Remaining mozzarella

Once the lasagna has been assembled, cover the casserole tightly with foil. Bake for about an hour, removing the foil for the last five minutes. Serve and enjoy!

Makes 8 – 10 servings, depending on the size of your appetite.

Snoopy (Snoopy is Damon’s nickname) proved himself my urban gardening hero once again last night. Arriving home from a busy and stressful day, he brought it to my sometimes-clueless attention that with the spate of cold weather and frosts we’ve gotten this week, it’s probably a good time to harvest what we can from the fall garden. Good thinking, Snoopy. I’m glad one of us doesn’t his head up one’s proverbial bum :)

So while my better half brought in broccoli heads, cabbages, a few straggling turnips, and the less cold-hardy variety of kale, I was on KP. The curly kale and collards we left in the garden—they seem to be the rockstars of the winter—and we left the roots of the harvested plants intact and well mulched with straw, in hopes that they’ll give us a head start in the spring. The cabbage will be made into sauerkraut, the extra broccoli and greens will get blanched and frozen. Yum.

Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, I was faced with a gorgeous 2+ pound cabbage and a hungry tummy. Based on a recipe from MarthaStewart.com, this is one meal that I couldn’t not share (sorry for the shabby picture). It’s simple, so perfect for the season, and was a cinch to adapt as gluten free. Ohhhh, you’re going to love it, guaranteed. It’s got the Snoopy seal of approval.

Cabbage and Sausage Spaghetti

• 1 lb bulk sausage—I used a sage sausage from local Keenbell Farm
• One 2+ lb head of cabbage, sliced thinly
• One large yellow onion, sliced thinly
• 8 oz gluten free spaghetti (I like Tinkyada)
• Sea salt and black pepper
• 2 Tbsp water
• 1 1/2 Tbsp white wine vinegar
• Fresh-ground black pepper and Parmesan for garnish (optional)

Cook and drain pasta.

While the pasta cooks, heat a deep skillet or stock pot over Medium-High. Cook sausage, breaking it up as it browns, once cooked, remove from the pan with a slotted spoon, leaving the drippings in the pan.

Add to the hot pan drippings 2 Tbsp water, the onion, and about half the cabbage. Add a sprinkle of salt and a liberal amount of pepper. Stir, then cover, stirring occasionally. Once the cabbage has started to soften, add the rest of the cabbage and continue to cook it, covered, stirring occasionally, until the onions and cabbage is soft. Remove from heat.

Add the cooked sausage and spaghetti to the cabbage mixture. Add vinegar and salt to taste and mix well. Serve hot, garnished with a bit of parmesan and a generous amount of black pepper.

Serves 6

As Snoopy (Damon) said, the word of the day (or rather the weekend) is “apples.” I picked up a bushel of apples this week from a local farm, and I’ve been in the kitchen all day today and yesterday preserving the bounty, and as an added bonus, filling the house with warmth and apple-scented goodness!

Already completed are 17 pints of apple sauce, 14 8-ounce jars of chutney, and the apple butter is still bubbling along as I write this, getting thicker and richer with every passing moment.

And how easy is all this? First off, canning itself is not hard, but you need to know how to do it properly. For general canning instructions (and recipes, resources, etc.), click here. For those of you who have already canned in the past, for the apple sauce, peel and chop your apples to fill a big pot, cook over medium low till the apples are mushy (technical term, there). Use a potato masher or immersion blender to make the sauce smooth, then process in a water bath canner for 20 minutes (for pint jars).

For the apple butter, I filled my slow cooker with apple sauce, added a cinnamon stick, and am currently cooking the heck out of it, until it is rich and dark. Process in water bath canner 5 – 10 minutes. Nope, no sugar. Nope, no pectin. I’m actually surprised at how many apple canning recipes call for pectin—especially since apples naturally contain a large amount of pectin. Huh.

But the real jewel in the crown of this year’s preserving festivities was the chutney. Oh so good, so simple, so richly flavored… so many future variations already seeding themselves in my brain. We enjoyed this last night on veggie burgers, but I think this is going to be a constant condiment on our table—sweet, savory, spicy, tangy, and deeeeelish.

Future variations? I could have done with this being a little hotter, so I might add more hot pepper or red pepper flakes next time. Different sorts of dried fruit: apricot, mango, etc. Some diced sweet bell pepper might be nice. Alternative vinegars? You get the idea.

Curried Apple Chutney

• 4 to 4 1/2 pounds apples, peeled and diced
• 3 1/2 c. apple cider vinegar
• 10 oz. (1 1/4 pound) raisins
• 3 c. brown sugar
• 2 to 3 inch knob of ginger, peeled and minced
• 2 large cloves garlic, peeled and minced
• 2 t. sea salt
• 1/2 large onion, diced
• 2 small hot red peppers, finely chopped
• 4 t. sweet curry powder (good quality, like Penzeys)
• 2 T. dijon mustard

Set slow cooker to high. Place all ingredients in slow cooker—this may need to be strategic, as it just filled to overflowing my 4-quart crockpot, and it took some pushing, stirring, and cooking-down for me to get all of it in there :)

Cook covered for 3 hours or so, till apples and all are well softened. Once they are soft, use a potato masher to start breaking up the chunks and giving you that chutney consistency. How chunky you leave it is entirely a matter of taste—I like some chunks in mine, as you can see in the pictures.

Once your chutney is the consistency and flavor you desire, process in 8-ounce jars in a water bath canner for 10 minutes. Make sure the lids all pop down (showing a good seal) and label and date your jars. And… enjoy.

Yield: about 14 cups.