Raspberry Lassi

It has finally started to feel like summer in Seattle.  The sky is clear enough that I can reap the benefits of a third floor, west-facing balcony - sunsets over the Olympic Mountains, a slivered moon hanging low above the peaks. The city is also noticeably more active.  Folks are out and about, lounging on porches, sporting in parks, rightfully wearing sundresses and sandals.  It's about time.

In honor of this shift in season and temperature (hellooo box fans), I whipped up a tasty yogurt drink.  The typical lassi, in the U.S. anyway, is flavored with mango pulp and can be found on the menu of just about any Indian restaurant.  It's sort of like a fruity milkshake made with yogurt instead of cream.  They are amazing.

I wanted to make my lassi a bit more local than the mango variety would allow, so I picked up a pint of fresh raspberries at the farmer's market.  Another sure sign that summer is here... plump, ripe, succulent raspberries. 

This is such an easy beverage to make.  Dump a few ingredients into the blender, a couple of minutes on high, and blam! Fruity, yogurty lassi ready for your taste buds.  Here's the recipe I came up with after looking over a dozen or so on the web.

Raspberry Lassi
makes 2 servings

1 C. plain yogurt
1/2 C. milk
2 large ice cubes
1 C. raspberries (give or take)
4 tsp. sugar (to taste)
pinch of sea salt

• Place all ingredients in your blender
• Turn that baby on high
• Blend until smooth, a couple of minutes
• Pour into two glasses and drink right away

Try adding different types of fruit to this recipe for variation. Some of the recipes I saw called for a pinch of cardamom or cinnamon.  Oh, the possibilities.  Enjoy!

Strawberry Crisp

Since I've already waxed poetic on the whole strawberry picking adventure and the tastiness of the fresh, plump, juicy fruits of my labor, this post is going to be dedicated to my new view of the world. What view is that, you might be asking? Well, I've recently been forced to see things, specifically my dinner plate, through the eyes of one who is gluten intolerant. I haven't discussed it here, but I gave up gluten a couple of months ago as an experiment after dealing with a surge of unexplained headaches and severe exhaustion. Well, the headaches ceased almost instantly, my skin cleared up significantly, and my energy levels have jumped up a notch or two. So now, much to my bread-loving dismay, gluten and I can no longer be friends.

We had a good run, gluten and I. We grew up together in the kitchen and meals of my family, although I am definitely guilty of under-appreciating this old chum of mine. In my adult life we've spent many an hour working together in the kitchen to conceive of delectable baked goods like this one, and this one. It's true what they say - it's so easy to take your gluten for granted until you just can't digest it anymore (that is something they say, isn't it?).

So now I'm beginning to dip my big toe into the waters of gluten-free baking. It's intimidating, what with those long lists of unfamiliar ingredients. Tapioca starch? Xanthan gum? Those bear a striking resemblance to the sorts of ingredients that I've been avoiding for years. If I don't know what it is or if I can't pronounce it then it shouldn't be going into my body, right? I guess I need to tweak that ideal a bit. Xanthan gum, here I come.

My first official gluten-free baking attempt happened two nights ago. I'm sure you're already aware of the form it took from the inconspicuous title of this post and the giant, crumb-covered dessert pictured above. I am proud to report that the recipe was a resounding success, even by the standards of two gluten-tolerant guys, one of whom doesn't even eat desserts. A little pat on the back for moi.

I started out with a crisp because they're fairly easy to make. There's no rising that needs to occur as with bread or cake, and they are the perfect place to put berries, of any flavor.

So here you go. One delicious, gluten-free strawberry crisp recipe. Enjoy!

Gluten-Free Strawberry Crisp

makes 6 servings

1 C. gluten-free rolled oats (not quick oats)
1 C. all-purpose gluten-free flour blend (I used Bob's Red Mill)
1 tsp. xanthan gum
3/4 C. brown sugar
7 T. butter, diced
1/4 C. sugar
3 C. strawberries, sliced

Preheat your oven to 350 F.

Mix together the first four ingredients in a medium bowl. Cut in the butter (I use my fingers to rub it in - it's the most effective way I've found) until mixture is crumbly.

In another bowl, mix the sliced berries and sugar together.

Grease an 8-inch square baking dish, and spread half of oat/four mixture on bottom. Lightly press the mixture down to form a bottom crust for the crisp. Don't worry if there are holes or cracks, it doesn't matter if it's not perfect.

Cover the bottom crust with the berries and spread evenly.

Crumble the remaining oat/flour mixture over the berries. Pop it into the oven and bake 35-40 minutes, or until the top is golden brown and the berries bubbly.

Serve warm or cold. Vanilla ice cream is optional but highly recommended.

Strawberry Picking

This past Friday we finally had a break in the clouds here in Western Washington, so some friends and I decided to take advantage of the sun and the season to go and pick strawberries. I'm not a total stranger to farm life. I spent several months living and working on organic farms in Hawaii a few years ago, so I have eaten all sorts of tropical fruits straight from the tree or vine. Fruits that I had never heard of before spending time on the islands. Egg fruit? Durian? Sapote? They became common place. But strawberries. I don't know if I've ever picked more than one or two at a time from a small garden plot.

Picking strawberries is like a treasure hunt. Searching for rubies in a sea of leafy green, hunched over on your hands and knees. They shade themselves from view, so you must be diligent until you spot that blazing red nestled underneath the emerald foliage. They hide themselves, but once found, these fruits just beg to be plucked from the vine. And popped into your mouth. The four of us filled our baskets with sixteen pounds of strawberries that afternoon.

We visited a farm called "Garden Treasures" for our little picking party (goes well with my previous analogy). The green houses and fields were set against a backdrop of snow-capped mountain peaks. It was incredibly peaceful and a much needed break from the urban chaos that is my day-to-day. Not only did this farm/nursery have berries for our eager, little hands to pick, but they also had rows and rows of green things to harvest. Cabbages, broccoli, romaine and butterhead lettuces, chard, kale and a dense thicket of pea vines. Two of my ambitious friends must have picked ten pounds of sugar snaps.

Now that my berry loot is washed and waiting in the fridge to be eaten, there are decisions to be made. I'm busy thinking up ways to best savor them. Jam? A crisp or cobbler, perhaps? Both are on my mind, although, this morning I decided to keep it simple and just toss a few whole berries on my yogurt with some walnuts and a drizzle of honey.

Breakfast was a resounding success. Hopefully strawberry season will hold on long enough for another trip to the fields. I could use fresh berries in my yogurt everyday.

Berry Stash

A couple of weeks ago, when Seattle's landscape was under a constant barrage of spring-time rainfall, I got a craving for berries. Plump, juicy jewels of summer... The idea seemed so far fetched. Yeah, I know that it's possible to hit up the grocery store for berries all year long, but it's just not the same. Those supermarket fruits are like impostors; gritty, tasteless lumps donning the costume of freshness and flavor so naturally employed by the authentic berries of summer. I wanted that purity. I wanted to eat berries that would shout out their prefixes as they hit my hungry palate... Ras! Blue! Straw!... amongst my own squeals of delight.

I did a very smart thing last year. I froze berries. Somehow I knew that winter would stretch on and on and I would yearn for the sweetness. Luckily a couple of weeks ago I still had a pint or two stashed way in the back of my freezer. After confirming that both strawberries and blueberries did in fact exist in the depths of that frosty compartment, I took just a moment to consider my plan. It didn't take long to figure out that waffles with berry sauce was the answer to all of my longing.

Berry Sauce

1/2 pint each blueberries & strawberries (fresh or frozen)

2 T. honey

If using frozen berries, thaw. Cut larger strawberries in half.

Combine the berries and honey in a small saucepan over medium heat. Stir and allow the mixture to come to a simmer. As the berries release their juices, smash them with a fork or other utensil to make a chunky liquid. Taste and add more honey if you see fit. I don't like my sauce to be too sweet, though.

Continue to cook the berries for another 5-10 minutes, turn off the heat, and you're ready to bliss out!

I used a mix that I really enjoy to make these waffles. It's called The Cravings Place: All Purpose Pancake and Waffle Mix. This mix makes fantastic waffles (the pancakes I've made with it were only so-so).

Spoon the warm berry sauce over the crispy waffles and transport yourself to late July. So amazing. If you're fortunate enough to have leftovers, this sauce is also magnificent over a bowl of vanilla ice cream. Indulge... Enjoy...

Brambles and Berries

It's that time of year again. No, not the start of football season. Now is the time when Washington's most beloved weeds are finally giving up what makes them, in my mind anyway, the edible equivalent of pure gold, waiting to be discovered along roadsides, in parks, engulfing yards and pretty much any other outdoor venue imaginable... blackberries. My eyes have been peeled for the first signs of color amongst the thorny tangles that are part of my day-to-day scenery. Ripened fruits have been spotted.

While my take on the blackberry bush is that we should enjoy it's purple pleasures while we can and just ignore it again until next year, the authorities on Washington's botanical situation have decided that blackberries are to be looked upon with scorn and be dubbed with this title of degradation... Class C Noxious Weed (cue thunder and scary music). Noxious. It sounds so horrifying, so deadly. The truth is, though, that if left unchecked, blackberries could easily take over the entire city of Seattle. In defense, the city has fences erected, bushes cut back and ripped up from the ground. It's a losing battle. Spiky brambles start to push their way through fence gaps; a year after being pulled, new growth will find it's way to the soil's surface and begin to spread again. It can't be stopped. Oh, delicious onslaught.


Last week I picked for the first time this season. About a quart's worth made it back to the apartment with me (some were sacrificed on the spot). Picking blackberries can be dangerous business, indeed. The thorns that coat their branches are like little talons that grab onto clothing and tear through flesh. My hands are definitely a little worse for wear, but blood and broken skin won't stop me from plucking, pulling, picking away. Purple-stained finger tips make me smile.

What to do with this year's haul? I've got some good ideas that I'll be sharing soon. Eat berries, be happy!

Blended Fruit

A.k.a. smoothies. Simple to make, hard not to enjoy. I realized this morning that my blender has been severely underworked this summer. With such an incredible diversity of fruit ripening before my eyes, I feel as though every breakfast should be pureed and slurped before the first frosts steal it all away. There are several things that I love about smoothies:

1. It's difficult to come up with a bad combination of flavors.
   
2. Experimentation pretty much always leads to success.
3. Pretty colors.
4. They are quick, and they are easy.

Today, when I opened the fridge, I was greeted by a half pint of blueberries received in my CSA share yesterday and a peach that was given to me by another farmer earlier this week (fruit gifts are the greatest). Together they were destined to become a sweet liquid to satisfy my morning hunger.


I like to keep it simple, folks. No powders, no syrups. Just fruit and juice or rice milk. Simply delightful. Happy summer.