Okay last and final pie. This little beauty I first made last week as a ‘prop’ for some pics my friend Missy shot in my kitchen. I then decided to give it another go, bake it in a cute pan, donate it for the silent auction
I don’t know who the lucky winner was, but I have been on a sunbutter run lately! I will soon be posting some sunbutter cookies maybe.
- 1/2 cup sunbutter
- 1 tbsp apple cider vinegar
- 4 eggs
- 1 tbsp vanilla
- 1 1/2 cup coconut sugar
- 3 tbsp tapioca flour
- 1 tsp cinnamon
- 1/2 cup melted coconut oil
- 1 unbaked Paleo Pie Crust
Sometimes I feel like a food snob. I own. I tell people straight up. I am weird when it comes to food. Really I don’t want to go into a whole Paleo eating rant. I eat lots of veggies. Lots of meats. To me, my diet has lots of variety, but when I try to explain to people what I try to avoid it seems extensive: no grains, potatoes, sugars, most vegetable oils, beans, rice, processed foods, and raw tomatoes (just because I don’t do the texture).
The other day at work our poor sous chef Davey was proudly trying to get me to try some of the Leek soup he made. What’s in it? That is my initial question. Leeks, fennel, potatoes…..You lost me at potatoes. Of course our chef Zac made fun of me. Most people would be tripped up by leeks and fennel and you turn your nose up at potatoes? What can I say, I am anything but conventional.
Saturday at the market I went over to visit and shop at my friend Jason’s booth. As I’m waiting on him to calculate my peppers, the leeks are staring me in the face. My arm reaches out to grab them, devoid of actually realizing what I was doing. They were in my basket and home before I began to think of what I was actually going to do with them.
Hmm…..maybe I should make soup too? Soups are kind of sparse on my website. When I did some recipe updating on my page the other day I felt a pang of sadness when I saw the sad compilation of soups I had. Determined after this revelation, I set out to make a bomb-ass leek soup. One devoid of potato assistance, but equally as tasty. I had an apple to spare from the pie I have to make this week. Why not throw that in for good measure? It is starting to look good.
Leek and Apple Soup Continue reading
What up!?! Happy Tuesday I have yet another pie recipe for you! I did make 6 for our Farm-to-Fork and I am a big fan of sharing, so lucky you.
This second pie of the week is one of the vegan options. A chocolate avocado. And because Cathy and I both have spicy personalities, this pie has a hint of cayenne. Check it out!
Again I cannot give the granola recipe because it is Cathy’s, but I will provide a link to some really good Paleo granola. Eat up!!
Vegan Chocolate Avocado Pie
- 1 1/2 cup Paleo Granola (click the link, replace honey with maple or agave)
- 1/4 cup melted coconut oil
- 1/3 cup maple
Filling Continue reading
So I have been working diligently the last month with this beautiful human being, Cathy. She is a fellow baker at our Terre Haute Farmer’s Market. She sells granola. I sell Paleo-Gluten-Free-Dairy-Free and some Vegan baked goods. We have been collaborating on making some vegan and/or gluten-free options for our Farm-to-Fork dinner. I’ve posted some of the recipes already. Click these link for —–>>>Carrot Cake Pie and ——–>>>>Granola Apple Pie. This week I will bring you my Fig Pistchio and Goat Cheese Pie (what you are currently reading), Chocolate Avocado Pie, and Sunbutter PIe. Plus I will give you my explicit inside scoop on attending the dinner.
On arrival I ran into one of my market friends Kelly. I told her my nerves were in overdrive. I can bake for days. But their is something different about my own creations. About watching people eat them in front of me. Plus there is the artist in me. While I am baking, I am consumed. Consumed in a flurry of creating. I have passion tunnel vision. I am so in the process. By the time I finish I am so wrapped up in what I’ve made that I need a little separation before my brain goes into overdrive of what I want to change. What I would do differently. Rethinking my pan options. Regret of not pulling a pie just 2 minutes earlier. All these thoughts start to circle my brain. Doubt creeps in. I have to go to a quiet meditation space and get back my confidence. I always say I am a recovering perfection, but it rears it heads most often when I am creating. So expressing this to Kelly, she reassured me that my pies were good. She’d had a little piece of this goat cheese pie when they were cutting it. It’s good Whew, that at least put me in ease. The crust wasn’t a little over-done? This pie was the one I was crust concerned (well this and the apple and how they were going to get the carrot cake out of a tart pan. What was I thinking). She put me at ease. No the crust was perfect.
This was conceptually my favorite pie. My boyfriend had called me a few weeks ago. He was shopping for me (shocker). For some reason I had the impulse to ask if they had some dried figs. When Cathy and I were brain-storming, they came back to me. Hmm….wouldn’t these be good with pistachios? I frequently do pie crusts out of nuts. Hmm…while I’m at it, why not tweak the goat cheese filling I’d done on my blueberry tart (click this now, it is one of my favorite all-time recipes). I liked it. Continue reading
I am a fan of local. Duh, I write it all the time. I sell at our farmer’s market. I am also a believer in doing as much for yourself as possible. Growing up we always had our own gardens. We hunted for our own food. Self-reliance was high on my father’s character-building. I am thankful for it.
A few years ago I found an article saying Seattle was going to build a forage market. So not just a place where you go buy beautifully staged rows of fruits and vegetables, but a scene of plants. Ready and bulging to be picked. You are in control. What’s ripe? Which ones are the best? It would provide not only more education on picking ou your own fruits and veggies, but it would provide a sense of pride. Pride in selecting and picking your food with your own two hands. RAD.
This year there is a new vendor in town. They are called the Pickery and I am in LOVE with them. I am in incandescent, stupid love. In love with their organic produce. In love with what they represent. In love with their idea. In love with their rows and rows laid out in front of me, bursting with produce. Waiting on me. Saying pick me, pick me. So many options. Continue reading
Maybe it’s because I like oddities. Maybe it’s because I am a colorful character. Whatever the reasoning, I have fallen in love with colored carrots. They seemed kind of a chupacabra to me. I’d seen them in books and on t.v. I’ve read about them. They were like a make-believe fairy tale. A character I never thought I’d come across in little old (not-so-progressive) Terre Haute, Indiana. I had never seen them in person. Elusive I believe is the word.
Imagine my shock and slightly embarrassing giddiness when I was wondering the market a few weeks ago, just assuming I popped into the Pickery booth to grab some cucumbers, and I came face-to-face with colored carrots. As I mentioned, it was embarrassing, my reaction was a little overzealous and exuberant to say the least. You’d have thought it was Christmas or that I’d found money. Or any other plethora of justifiable celebration. No. To me, Brittany, it only takes colored carrots to send me into astronomical happiness. I guess I am pretty easy, but as I’ve said it’s the little things in life.
Last week I went into the cooler at work to find a box full of colored carrots. Hmm….. I was excited once again to see such beauties resting in front of me. I wondered where they got them? I knew, but I had to check. The Pickery is quickly winning me over heart-and-soul (tomorrow I will expand on this). Continue reading
Blissful. Food (and bag from Anne) from farmers and people I know. To each item there is a name. A face. A smile. A conversation and interaction. A memory. There is a connection. Things that matter to me in my striving to be more mindful.
This is most definitely the pic and words I posted after our farmer’s market on Saturday. I am about to give a whole page of why to shop at your local farmer’s market, but this is the summary of what comes straight from my heart.
I have always loved going to markets. Maybe it’s because I grew up in the Midwest. Because I’m used to drives in the country. To watching breathtaking sunsets over never-ending cornfields. Maybe it’s because my parents efforts to teach self-reliance, meant my brother and I grew up working for our cash. We spent our summers tending to the cornfields we planted, sitting at our little humble roadside stand, selling sweet corn to avid Hoosier lovers of the stuff. Continue reading