Savory "Lamb" Stew (Scouse) For IAVW: British

My taste in music, much like my taste in food, is a result of the various influences in my life: what's contemporary, what's timeless, where I have lived, my friends and my family.

At a very young age, I was lucky to be exposed to a variety of music. The songs of Indian movies-- some of them excellent-- were all around us and it was what my peers were mostly into. But my father had a deep and eclectic love for the music of other lands which ranged from Western classical to the soundtracks of old movies. Among his most favorites were the haunting, evocative tunes of old Westerns like For A Few Dollars More and The Good and the Bad and the Ugly, and the lilting, romantic strains of Dr. Zhivago. He had a huge collection of records and each evening, after dinner, he would light up a cigarette, put a record on, relax--eyes closed--in his favorite chair, and listen.

My brother was more adventurous about everything, including music. His taste ranged from youthfully bizarre to stunningly mature. He couldn't stop listening to the Hindustani classical music of Bade Ghulam Ali Khan one day, the pop songs of some obscure Pakistani singer the next, and then he'd be deeply in love for yet another day with the BeeGees.

Me, I was a reader first and foremost and I spent almost every waking moment I could spare with a book. I loved music, but in those days I was happy enough to listen to anything that was on.

It was my brother who first introduced me to the Fab Four. He brought home a tape he'd borrowed from a friend and a poster of four young men with oddly similar haircuts that he put up on the wall. The music and the crystal lyrics were strange in the beginning, but impossible not to love or tap a foot to. Soon enough, like most of the world, I was a Beatles fan.

Over the years, I have found more reasons to admire the members of this amazing group who are often credited with changing the world. John Lennon, for his commitment to peace and a world without borders and for the simplest, most straightforward and yet most evocative song ever written: Imagine. Paul McCartney, for his commitment to animal rights and vegetarianism.

In Desi, I found another Beatles fan-- he was reading a book on the Beatles when I first met him :). We have different favorite Beatles though: he loves Paul McCartney (especially Yesterday) while Lennon's definitely my favorite.

So why the Beatles? Well, the stew I am sharing today for It's A Vegan World: British is inspired by Scouse, a stew from Liverpool, the home of the Beatles. You can read more about it here.

I looked at a lot of Scouse recipes before making this stew, and the most original ones are very basic, which maybe is what makes it so special: just meat, potatoes, Worcestershire sauce, perhaps, and some salt and pepper. But since my version is vegan, I needed to add more flavor. The meat substitute I used, textured vegetable protein or TVP, does a great job emulating the texture of the meat but is, of course, flavorless.

I coat the TVP with flour and herbs and saute it beforehand just as one would the meat, because although there are no juices to be sealed in the TVP, this extra step gives the nuggets a nice crust and the flour creates a roux which helps thicken the stew. I've tried using TVP directly in the past and trust me, this is much better.

So here we go, with the recipe. There are still a couple more days left for you to send on your recipes, so get cooking, guys!



Savory Lamb Stew

1 1/2 cups TVP chunks

3 tbsp all-purpose flour

2 tsp mixed, dried herbs (I used basil, rosemary and oregano. Thyme and sage would also be great in here)

Salt and pepper to taste

Mix all ingredients in a bowl. Heat 1 tbsp canola or other vegetable oil in a skillet. Brown the TVP chunks in batches until they develop a nice brown crust.

Remove the TVP chunks to a plate. In the same skillet, adding more oil if necessary, saute:

1 medium onion, chopped

3 carrots, cut into rings

2 potatoes, diced

2 celery sticks, chopped

4 cloves garlic, minced

Saute until the vegetables soften a little and the onions are translucent.

Return the TVP chunks to the pan along with 2 tsp more of the mixed dried herbs.

Season with some salt and pepper.

Add to the pan:

1 can beer (thank goodness alcohol is vegan!) This really helps build the flavor

2 tbsp tomato paste (use ketchup in a pinch)

2 cups water

Bring the stew to a boil, lower the heat, then simmer for 45 minutes so the flavors meld together. Add more salt, pepper or herbs if needed.

Immediately after turning off heat, add 1-2 tbsp vegan butter which helps round out the flavors and adds a great smoothness to the stew.

Garnish, if desired, with some parsley or sage.

Serve hot. I like this with plain boiled white rice or a crusty bread.

Any stew, including this one, always tastes better the next day when the ingredients have had time to sit together, so make this a day ahead if you can-- and keep your hands off it!

French Bread: An Easy But Delicious Recipe

A quick post today on one of the easiest but also one of the best French breads you'll ever have.

There are just four ingredients in this bread, if you don't count the water: flour, yeast, salt and sugar. I don't make this bread whole-grain because that would interfere with the deliciously soft texture which makes it a real treat. If you want a great whole-wheat French bread, try this recipe that I posted a while ago. It's also delicious and you've got the additional nutrition punch. Or try this foolproof whole-wheat French bread recipe with step-by-step pictures-- you can't miss.

But for a busy weekend day when I want great, fresh bread for dinner, the one I'm posting today's an absolute winner.

Gotta go now, but a quick nudge to send in your recipes for It's A Vegan World: British. The deadline is July 31. I know it's a bit of a challenge, but hey-- which true cook can resist a challenge? I've already got some great entries, but I really, really would love some more, so hurry please!

French Bread

(Makes 2 loaves)

2 1/2 tsp active dry yeast

1/2 cup warm water

1/2 tsp sugar (this feeds the yeast and helps it grow faster)

Mix the yeast, sugar and the water in a large bowl or in the bowl of a stand mixer and let stand five minutes until the yeast flowers or begins to froth.

Add to the bowl:

3 1/2 cups bread flour (can use all-purpose)

1 cup water

1 1/2 tsp salt

Mix well and then knead by hand or on low speed five minutes until you have a slightly sticky dough.

Place in an oiled bowl, turn once to coat, and let it rise, covered, at room temperature 2 hours.

Punch down the dough and divide into two. If the dough is too sticky, sprinkle a little flour to make it easier to work with.

Using the palms of your hand, roll each half into a long rope, about 10-12 inches in length.

Lightly grease a large baking sheet and scatter 1-2 tsp of cornmeal on it (to keep the bread from sticking)

Place the two ropes side by side, with at least 5 inches between them, on the sheet.

Cover loosely with a kitchen towel and let rise at room temperature for 1 1/2 hours.

Sprinkle some flour on the top of the loaves (this is decorative and therefore optional). With a very sharp blade, make 4-5 diagonal gashes along the length of each loaf.

About half an hour before the loaves are fully risen, preheat the oven to 450 degrees. Place a baking stone (or unglazed ceramic tiles) on a rack in the middle of the oven.

Just before you place the bread in the pan, spray the inside of the oven with water.

Place the baking sheet on the baking stone or tiles. Close the oven. Spray the sides of the oven again with water five minutes later. (The water ensures a crusty loaf)

Bake for a total of 25 minutes or until the loaves are golden-brown.

Cool on a rack before cutting.

Enjoy!

Peach Upside-Down Cake

It must look like I am OD'ing on sugar right now because this is my third sweet and baked recipe in a row, but what can I say? I had these perfectly ripe peaches sitting in my pantry, and I needed to do something about them before they started to spoil. Since I'm not a big fan of eating fruit on its own, I just had to bake them into something delicous AND pretty: like a Peach Upside-Down Cake, a classic from America's south.

This cake is really, really simple to make and although it does have a fair amount of sugar, it's fairly low in fat. Plus all that fruit (it also has applesauce in it) makes it, I daresay, not unhealthy.

One of the great joys of eating this cake are the contrasting textures created by the gooey caramel at the bottom of the pan, the smooth, silky peaches, and the tender cake. Like a lot of dishes originating from the south, this one screams classic comfort food. At the same time it's beautiful enough to show off with.

Upside-down cakes are traditionally made in cast-iron skillets, so if you have a 9-inch skillet, use it. If not, use an 8- or 9-inch cake pan.

I need to run, but not before I give you the recipe. It's Thursday already, and the weekend's in sight! Hooray!

Peach Upside-Down Cake

4-5 peaches, halved, pitted, then each half cut into four slices

2 tbsp vegan butter

1/2 cup sugar

Melt the butter in a 9-inch cast-iron skillet. If using a cake pan, place the vegan butter in the pan and place it inside a preheated 350-degree oven until the butter melts.

Tilt the skillet or pan so that the butter coats the sides.

Sprinkle the sugar to evenly cover the bottom of the pan.

Arrange the peaches in a decorative pattern at the bottom of the skillet or pan. If you're not a patient person or like a more freestyle look, you can just scatter them around in an even, single layer.

Set aside.

Measure out 1/2 cup of soymilk, add 1 tsp balsamic vinegar to it, and set aside to curdle, at least 5 minutes.

Whisk together to mix and aerate:

1 cup all purpose flour

1 tsp cinnamon powder

3/4 cup sugar

3/4 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp baking soda

1/4 tsp salt

In a smaller bowl, mix together:

2 tbsp canola oil

4 tbsp applesauce

1 tsp vanilla extract

2 tbsp of the curdled soymilk

Add this to the flour mixture, mixing until just blended with a hand-held electric mixer or a whisk.

Add 1/2 cup of applesauce to the remaining curdled soymilk, mix, and then add to the batter in three batches, mixing well after each addition and scraping the sides and bottom of the bowl.

Pour the batter evenly to cover the peach slices.

Place in the preheated 350-degree oven and bake 40 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the middle comes out clean.

Remove the skillet or pan and tilt it on all sides to loosen the cake. Be sure to use oven mitts because the skillet is screaming hot!

Cool for 2-3 minutes before unmolding.

To unmold, place a serving platter, face-down, on the skillet or pan. Make sure you have your oven mitts on and check again by tilting the pan that the cake has loosened from the sides of the skillet. If not, run a knife along the edge.

Now turn the skillet upside-down in a quick motion and tap slighly if needed to loosen the cake. Carefully lift up the skillet.

Voila!

Spoon any of the gooey, caramel-y juices remaining in the skillet on top of the cake, and enjoy warm or at room temperature.

For another fruity, pretty dessert, cook up my Tarte Tatin.

Mango Cheesecake

When I first started writing Holy Cow! almost 20 months ago, I was thinking of it as a recipe log for myself. I was always creating dishes and even if I loved something, I'd soon enough forget how I'd made it. Sometimes friends with whom I'd shared a recipe at some time or the other would serve it to me down the road and I'd go incredulously, "That's my recipe? Really? Can I have it please?"

So finally, tired of my own forgetfulness, I decided to start this, a food blog, where I could log all of my recipes as I created them. Because my blog began not long after I had become a vegan, it also turned into a diary of my views on animal rights and the world in general. I wasn't sure anyone else would be interested in what I wrote, but it was an extraordinarily liberating feeling to write anything I wanted to and put it out there for anyone who cared to see. Not least because as a journalist, I've always had an editor, often ones who don't know what they're doing, telling me what's acceptable and what's not. But here I can say anything I please without worrying about pleasing anyone.

But what I came to love even more over time was that there are people out there who were interested in what I wrote, and in my recipes. Folks who shared my views on a kinder, gentler world where every living creature can co-exist. Although I haven't met most of you in person, I can honestly say I am more comfortable chatting with you than I sometimes am with people I've known for a long time.

So in appreciation of the joy you bring to me, I wanted to share with you this-- one of my most prized recipes ever and one I am prouder of than almost anything else I've ever created. My Mango Cheesecake.

I've always been a cheesecake fan, and the availability of vegan cream cheese and sour cream like the Tofutti brand(I even find it in my local Giant supermarket) makes it really, really easy to have my vegan cheesecake and eat it too.

I use mango pulp that I buy in cans from the Indian grocery store. If you live in an urban area, you are almost certain to have an Indian grocery store somewhere near you where you can find mango pulp. It's important to use this because the sweetness and flavor of the Indian mango is vastly different from the flavor of the mangoes you find here in the United States and it makes all the difference.

I use only one spice in this cheesecake and it is a perfect match for mango: cardamom. Mango and cardamom are, like rosemary and potatoes or basil and tomatoes, a match made in tastebud heaven. Together, they take this cheesecake from simply delicious to absolutely sublime.

You can leave out the vegan sour cream topping, but I think it adds that final wow! to an already amazing cake.

I made this cheesecake for friends who came over for dinner this past weekend and didn't have a chance to take a picture before we cut in, so I don't have any pictures of the full cake.

Desi, who's quite likely my worst critic when it comes to my cooking, is not a cheesecake fan despite his sweet tooth. But even he can't have enough of this cheesecake, and says it's the best he's ever tasted.

Good enough for me!

Mango Cheesecake

For the nut crust:

2 cups walnuts (can use pecans)

2 tbsp vegan "butter" like Earth Balance

2 tbsp canola or other vegetable oil

3 tbsp sugar

A pinch of salt

In a food processor, process the nuts until they resemble crumbs. Add the "butter", oil, sugar and salt and process briefly until the mixture comes together.

Pat the crust into the bottom of a 9- or 10-inch springform pan.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees and bake the crust for 10 minutes until it starts to brown and becomes quite firm. Set aside to cool completely. It will be soft to the touch when you pull it out of the oven but will firm up as it cools.

For the mango filling:

In a large bowl, beat until just smooth:

16 ounces vegan "cream cheese" (I used Tofutti's Better-than-cream-cheese)

Scrape the sides of the bowl and the beaters. Add:

2/3 cup sugar

1 tsp cardamom powder

Beat until everything's well-blended.

Whip in a food processor or blender 12 ounces of silken firm tofu (I used MoriNu) and 3 tsp of egg replacer powder (this is important because the mango puree is quite liquidy, and you need this to help it firm up).

Add the tofu to the cream cheese in three portions, beating well after each addition.

Add and mix until just mixed:

1 cup canned mango puree (I used the Kesar brand)

Pour the filling into the crust.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Place a loaf pan or any other pan filled with water in the oven.

Slide the springform pan on a baking sheet and place in the oven.

Bake the cheesecake for 30 minutes.

Turn the heat down to 325 degrees and continue baking for another 30 minutes.

When the cheesecake is done, the sides will be set and puffy but the center will still jiggle when tapped.

For the topping:

1 cup vegan sour cream (again, I used Tofutti)

1/4 cup sugar

1/2 tsp cardamom powder

Whip the ingredients together until just blended.

Pour on the cheesecake as soon as it comes out of the oven, and tilt the pan slightly to make sure it coats the top of the cake evenly.

Place the cheesecake back in the oven and bake another 15 minutes.

Remove the cheesecake to a rack and cool completely. Unmold by running a knife around the edge, and then release the springform top.

Chill the cheesecake thoroughly before serving.

Scottish Shortbread for IAVW: British

Imagine a cookie that dissolves on your tongue with ravishing yet subtle sweetness. That's Scottish Shortbread for you, and it is, of course, a classic for all times.

Making shortbread vegan poses a challenge because butter is one of the most important ingredients here. Unlike some recipes where butter usually provides mostly the fat and just a little of the flavor, in shortbread -- which is made with just a handful of ingredients-- it provides ALL of the flavor.

In my cardamom-pistachio shortbread, my almond shortbread cookies or my lemony shortbread, I usually use oil and shortening because the nuts and lemon provide enough deliciousness so the butter won't be missed. But for just plain old Scottish Shortbread, which I adapted from the Joy of Cooking, I use vegan butter sticks.

Because these butter substitutes which are easily available now in supermarkets do such a great job of mimicking the flavor and texture of the real thing, no one would be able to tell that this shortbread is vegan-- yes, made absolutely without harming an animal.

I also used 2 tbsp of shortening because I find it gives shortbread the perfect texture: flaky, crumbly, melt-in-the-mouth and simply delicious.

Enjoy, all!

This one goes, of course, to It's A Vegan World: British. We still have a good 10 days to go before the deadline, so hurry on all you fabulous cooks out there, and let me see how wonderfully creative you can get. I'm waiting!


Scottish Shortbread

(Makes 16 2-inch-square bars)

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

8 tbsp vegan butter, like Earth Balance

2 tbsp trans fat-free vegetable shortening

1 1/4 cup confectioners sugar (powdered sugar)

2 tbsp sugar

1/4 tsp salt

Beat sugar, salt, vegan butter and shortening on medium speed until light and fluffy, about 1-2 minutes.

Sift in the flour gradually into the butter-shortening mixture, mixing with a spatula. Stir together with the spatula until the dough comes together. If needed, sprinkle a few drops of ice-cold water so the dough holds together.

Grease an 8 X 8-inch baking dish.

Put the shortbread dough in it and press with your fingers into a smooth, even layer.

Using a fork, pierce holes into the shortbread dough in a decorative pattern.

Bake in a 300-degree oven for 45-50 minutes until the shortbread is pale golden in color and slightly dark at the edges.

Remove to a rack and let cool until it's slightly warm. With a sharp knife, cut almost all the way through to form squares. At this point you can sprinkle the shortbread with 1-2 tsp sugar.

When completely cooled, break into bars and devour!

Curried Karela (Bitter Gourd)

The other day, I watched with a mixture of unbridled delight and sheer horror as Paula Deen took a slice of cheesecake, covered it with a generous handful of chocolate chips, wrapped it all in an egg-roll wrapper, and then deep-fried it.

Next, she put it on a plate, cut it in half, and sprinkled it with powdered sugar.

And then, just as I was telling myself there was nothing more she could possibly do to this delicious monstrosity, she smothered it with chocolate sauce and crowned it all with a dollop of whipped cream.

Although I would've loved a piece of that (so long as the cheesecake was vegan), I probably gained two pounds just watching Deen make that dessert, so I don't think I'll be trying out that recipe any time soon :).

The recipe I am about the share with you today is nowhere near as indulgent as Deen's, but this one is also delicious and could actually help you lose weight (if any food can possibly do that!)

In India's sweltering summers, bitter foods are especially prized because of their naturally cooling properties. In my parents' house, leafy greens like spinach and fenugreek (methi) and bitter gourd or melon (karela) were often served in the summer.

While leafies are easy enough to like, most people either love the bitter gourd or hate it. With its brash, unapologetic bitterness, this ugly green vegetable with blunt, thorny spikes is neither a pretty sight nor, at the beginning, a pleasant taste.

But the bitter gourd is something of a super-food. It is especially invaluable to those with diabetes, because it is said to lower blood sugar levels. It is also supposed to improve blood circulation and has laxative properties which promote weight loss.

Besides, for any food-lover who has developed a taste for it, there's nothing like it.

Cooked into curries, as a subzi or deep-fried, the karela's deliciousness is difficult to match. Desi loves it so much, I make it a point to pick it up each time I find it at the Asian grocery store here. In fact, he makes sure that I don't forget by standing next to the bin and pointing at it like a kid at a candy machine :).

This recipe tones down the raging bitterness of the karela with the sour tang of tamarind and the mellowing sweetness of jaggery (an unrefined Indian sugar) and coconut milk. It is delicious both with some plain boiled rice or some rotis or chapatis.

Here's the recipe. Enjoy, all!

Curried Karela (Bitter Gourd)

Ingredients:

4 medium bitter gourds. Choose ones that feel firm to the touch, do not have spots or blemishes on them, and are a clear, brilliant green.

1 onion, sliced thinly

1 large tomato, pureed

1/2 cup coconut milk

1 tbsp oil.

2 tbsp grated jaggery

1 tsp tamarind pulp

4 garlic cloves, minced or pureed

1-inch piece of ginger, minced or pureed

1/4 cup chopped coriander leaves for garnish

Roast until golden brown and then powder:

3 red chillies

1 tsp sesame seeds

1 tsp cumin seeds

1 tbsp coriander seeds

Slice the karela lengthwise, remove the hard seeds, then slice further into thin strips. Cover the karela with salted water and set aside for at least 15 minutes. This helps remove some of the bitterness.

Heat the oil in a skillet. Drain the karela, squeeze all the water you possibly can out of it, and add it to the oil.

Stir fry the karela until it begins to brown. Now add the onions and continue to stir fry for another 5 minutes on medium heat.

Add the ginger and garlic pastes and saute for a minute. Now add the pureed tomato. Cook until the color deepens, about 5 minutes.

Add the powdered spices, the jaggery and the tamarind. Add salt and 3/4 cup of water.

Bring the curry to a boil, cover, and cook over medium-low heat until the vegetables are tender, about 5-10 minutes.

Add the coconut milk, stir to mix, and turn off the heat.

Garnish with coriander leaves and serve hot.

India, Compassion, and Going Local

India's tradition of vegetarianism is so strong it is not unusual for people here to sometimes presume that I do not eat meat simply because I am from India. Imagine what a tragedy it is, then, that increasingly Indians today are beginning to discard this glorious legacy of compassion.

The reasons are many: chains like McDonald's and KFC have made inroads into the country over the last few years, associating meat-eating with being modern, hip and glamorous.

Then there's the false belief that eating meat makes one stronger, when modern studies repeatedly show that a vegetarian or vegan diet is much healthier than a meat-based one.

Desi has this amusing story: as a child, his parents -- who were pure vegetarians -- decided that he should eat an egg each day because it would be good for him. Each morning, he would be dispatched to the grocery store to buy an egg. He would then take it to the back porch (his mother would never allow an egg into her kitchen), mix the raw egg into a glass of hot milk and sugar, and gulp it down.

Like Desi's parents, many well-intentioned vegetarians -- including a number of them in my extended family-- have started encouraging their young to eat meat. This, of course, does not mean that everyone in India is now eating meat: many Indian vegetarians wouldn't dream of it. But it is also true that more people than ever before are.

Here in the United States, the trend is moving in the opposite direction. Animal activists have been crying themselves hoarse for decades now, creating ever-growing awareness about a vegan or vegetarian lifestyle. It is estimated that 5 percent of the population of the United States is now vegetarian and almost 1 percent describe themselves as vegan-- a trend reflected by restaurants which seem to be increasingly offering vegetarian and sometimes even vegan options. What's wonderful is that young adults, teens and children are the fastest-growing demographic among American vegetarians, raising the hope for a future where animals are seen only as sentient creatures we share this earth with and not as dinner.

The growing awareness has spurred the U.S. government into passing some laws protecting animals, especially those farmed for food, although most animal-rights aficionados would agree that these are far from enough. But they are a beginning.

Undercover videos from groups like the Humane Society of the United States and PETA show unspeakable atrocities that are committed every day in factory farms against captive, voiceless creatures who, we all know, feel pain just as surely as we do but have no way to defend themselves: cows who are crowded so tightly into enclosures and pumped so heavily with hormones, they break their legs and injure themselves terribly while waiting to become meat or be milked. Bulls who are castrated without being sedated or given any kind of pain-killers. Pigs who are kept in pens so small, they cannot sit or move for life (just imagine that!). Chicken whose beaks are lopped off when they are just babies, and then crowded into cages where they will live the rest of their lives without spreading a wing or seeing the open sky. When it's time for these chicken to turn into nuggets and burgers, these undercover videos show, they are killed mercilessly, sometimes by being flung against a wall.

In India, too, there is a small but growing movement among animal-rights activists to draw attention to the cruel practices of the animal-food industry. One group that I recently came across, and wanted to give a shout out to, is Sharan, which calls itself a "sanctuary for health and reconnection to animals and nature."

Their Web site is a great resource for Indians interested in leading a compassionate, healthy lifestyle. They even have a newsletter with great information on holistic health issues and animal-rights abuses in India.

On a similar note, I have been reading how big-box retailers like Walmart and Tesco have started setting up shop in India. Sooner rather than later, they will no doubt drive out of business small, locally-owned stores in the areas where they set up, much as they do here in the United States.

Which is why I also wanted to mention the 3/50 Project, which was brought to my attention by new blogger Jaya of Jayaspace.

The project offers a clever strategy for people to boost local economies by patronizing independently owned businesses. Buying and eating locally is always a win-win situation because you are not just doing your community a good turn, you are also saving the environment by not depending on stuff that has to be transported cross-country. Best of all, it is easy enough to practice this anywhere in the world.

Do take a moment to read Jaya's description of the 3/50 project here.

Enjoy your Thursday, all!

The Perfect Sandwich Bread

A good, hearty sandwich bread is almost like a basic tool in every serious cook's toolbox. Yes, it's easy enough to find good wholegrain bread in the supermarket or a bakery, but in my opinion, it comes nowhere close to the perfection of a freshly baked loaf of homemade bread.

Before I post the recipe, I wanted to give some of you who might be new to baking a few tips on getting started. Bread-baking can sometimes seem daunting to both newbie as well as veteran bakers, not least because you are at the mercy of the yeast and even, to some extent, the weather, because it's the temperature that determines rise times. And even if you take a great deal of care, there's every chance that a loaf might not rise at all, or it might come out too dense or too brittle.

I have had many bread-baking boo-boos. The first time I baked a loaf of bread, it turned out looking like a dense mass of cooked, lumpy dough. It certainly didn't look anything like bread.

But I loved the idea of homemade bread too much to give up so I kept at it, and eventually I caught on.

The most important beginning to the perfect bread is, of course, the yeast. I buy active dry yeast in a big packet from Costco, and although I bake almost every weekend, I don't use it fast enough, so I store it in an airtight jar in the freezer. It is extremely important to ensure before you start that your yeast is fresh and active. The way most bread recipes do this is by telling you to "flower" the yeast, or, in more straightforward terms, to check if the yeast is alive, by adding warm water and allowing it to sit for a few minutes. If the yeast starts to froth -- you can actually see it move-- in about five minutes, it is alive and well. If not, you need to throw it away and get fresh yeast because otherwise your bread's pretty much a non-starter. Also, be sure to add warm, not hot, water to the yeast because while the yeast needs some warmth to grow and multiply, too much heat can kill it.

There's one more thing I cannot stress enough to new bakers: follow the recipe instructions carefully. You've probably heard this cliche before, but like any cliche it's quite truthful: baking is a science, as opposed to cooking which is more of an art. A little substitution here and there can cause everything to go off-kilter.

Next comes the flour. Many home cooks have a tendency to substitute all-purpose or bread flour with whole-wheat, with the good intention of making the bread healthy. But each type of flour has a different gluten content, which makes it act differently in a bread recipe. Breads made entirely with whole wheat or rye flour, for instance, would be too dense to be edible. You can remedy this in some cases by adding vital wheat gluten to the bread which helps make wholegrain breads fluffier, but again, if you're new at bread-making, make sure you follow a good recipe that tells you how to do this.

Be sure to accurately follow rise times. For instance, when the recipe asks you to let the dough rise for two hours, don't let it rise for four, because it can seriously damage the structure of your bread. In some cases the rise time is less important, in which case the recipe will tell you so. But usually it does matter.

Because room temperature is vital in rise times, and because the weather here in the United States varies drastically during the various seasons, I usually bung the dough into a cold oven with the light on, which creates the perfect temperature for a dough to rise.

Lastly, follow baking directions precisely, and resist the temptation to open the oven during at least the first half hour of baking because the unexpected rush of cold air can cause your bread to act in ways you don't want it to.

Hope that information is helpful to some of you out there. Now it's time to share my sandwich bread which is part whole-wheat and which I make almost every weekend because we never can have enough of it around for a snack. It also makes great toast.

This bread is really soft and delicious the day it's baked, and it firms up just a little bit the next day, which makes it great for a sandwich. It remains fresh in the fridge for at least a week, and -- best of all-- unlike most store-bought bread, it has no preservatives.

The sandwich, as most know, is named after England's John Montagu, the Fourth Earl of Sandwich, who apparently liked to eat meat tucked between slices of bread. So this bread goes to It's A Vegan World: British, going on right this month at Holy Cow! This healthy bread also goes to Madhuram's Wholegrain baking event.

Enjoy, all!

Sandwich Bread

(Makes two loaves)

Mix in a large bowl and set aside for five minutes until it begins to froth:

4 tsp active dry yeast

1/4 cup warm water

Mix in another bowl:

1 cup warm soymilk

1 cup warm water

2 tbsp shortening like Crisco's transfat-free shortening

2 tbsp sugar

1 tbsp salt

Add the soymilk mixture to the yeast. Add to it:

1 cup bread flour

1 cup whole-wheat flour

Mix in a stand mixer on low speed or by hand. Then add:

1/2 cup whole wheat flour

Knead on low speed or by hand, gradually adding until the dough is no longer sticky:

1 to 1 1/2 cups of bread flour (add more flour if the dough's still sticky).

Continue kneading for another 10 minutes.

Transfer the dough to an oiled bowl, turning once so the top of the dough is coated with oil.

Cover with a kitchen towel and allow it to rise in a warm place for 1 to 1 1/2 hours, until doubled in volume.

Now punch down the dough, and put it back in the bowl to rise for another hour.

Grease two standard (6-cup) loaf pans. Now punch the dough down again and divide it into half. Shape each half into an oval, tucking the seams underneath.

Place each oval into a loaf pan, cover loosely with oiled plastic wrap, and set it aside to rise for about 1 hour until the dough rises above the pan, forming a nice dome.

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees. Bake the loaves for 10 minutes, then turn the oven temperature down to 350 degrees and continue baking for another 30 minutes or until the bottom sounds hollow when tapped.

Cool on a rack for about 10 minutes, then remove the loaves from the pan and continue cooling.

For more great vegan bread recipes, try my Whole-wheat Challah or my Saltless Tuscan Loaf, both huge favorites in my home.

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Before I leave you alone, Lavi at Home Cook's Recipes has posted her roundup of It's A Vegan World: Moroccan. Do head on there for a look at some of the most finger-licking, lip-smacking collection of vegan Moroccan dishes you're ever likely to see. Hats off to Lavi for a great job, and hats off too to all you amazing cooks who sent in your recipes.

Peach and Berry Cobbler

This might sound strange to many, but much as I love my veggies, I am not a huge fan of eating fruit. At least by itself.

Of course, there are exceptions. I can eat Indian mangoes for breakfast, lunch, dinner, dessert and any time in between. As a child, a chocolate-brown fruit, chikoo, which is not available here in the United States but which has the most deliciously sweet flavor, used to be one of my favorite snacks. And there's nothing more satisfying than an orange after lunch.

But when it comes to apples, bananas and even some berries...I usually try to get the uncomplaining Desi to go through everything I buy because I could very easily leave them alone.

With fruit-based desserts, though, that's another story altogether. I love pies, fruit-based muffins and breads, tarts and what have you. So this past week, when I found my refrigerator packed with more fruit than Desi could handle, I decided to cook up a cobbler.

A cobbler is not unlike a pie, except that it doesn't have a bottom crust and is, in some ways, a much simpler dessert to bake. You don't need the perfection of pie here-- all you do is mix up the fruit with some sugar, slap on the crust, and let everything bake to perfection.

Although I call this a dessert, you could very well have this cobbler for breakfast-- all that fruit makes it healthy enough, and the sweetness makes it indulgent enough.

I made the crust more decorative than usual by cutting it up into discs with a biscuit cutter and then shingling them on top of the fruit. If you'd like to avoid the trouble, feel free to just roll out the crust, lay it on top of the fruit, and make a few slits in it.

Enjoy, all!

Peach and Berry Cobbler

For the crust:

2 cups all-purpose flour

1 tsp baking powder

4 tbsp trans-fat-free vegetable shortening like Crisco

1/4 tsp salt

3 tbsp sugar

Combine all the ingredients in a bowl. Cut in the shortening with a pastry-cutter or fork until it breaks down into pea-sized pieces.

Drizzle in ice-cold water (1/2 to 3/4 cup), rapidly stirring with a fork, until the dough comes together. Roll into a ball, flatten to a disc, wrap tightly in plastic wrap, and refrigerate at least half an hour.

For the filling:

5 medium peaches, halved, pitted, and then each half cut into five slices

2 cups blueberries

1 cup strawberries, quartered

3/4 cup sugar (use more or less depending on how sweet or tart your fruit is)

3 tbsp cornstarch or tapioca starch

Zest of one lemon

Mix together all the ingredients and pour into an 8 X 8 glass baking dish.

Roll out the crust to about 1/8th of an inch in thickness. With a biscuit cutter, cut out round discs. You can roll up the remaining dough and cut more discs until all the dough is used up.

Now shingle the biscuits on top of the fruit in a decorative pattern.

Brush the tops with some soymilk.

Bake in a 350-degree oven for 45-50 minutes or until the top is golden-brown.

Let stand on a rack at least 15 minutes before serving.

Cucumber Sandwiches

If you've been on this blog before, you probably know that I am a big believer in the simple life and conscious living.

It wasn't always like this. When I first moved to the United States, I went through wide-eyed-at-the-mall days that afflict most immigrants in this consumer's paradise.

Although I've never been one to splurge on 100-dollar jeans and 400-dollar shoes, I did love having a good and extensive wardrobe. I enjoyed collecting gadgets (like a 400-dollar pocket PC I bought one day on a whim and almost never used -- something Desi never fails to remind me of when I accuse him now of wasteful spending). I wanted a car, a house...in other words, I wanted the American Dream.

They say age makes you wiser, and in my case it must have. I don't think there was a lightbulb moment when I went a-ha, but over the years I began to tire of all the "stuff." Because buying and then looking after all this stuff, I realized, took away more time, not to mention money, that I might be using to really enjoy life.

What's more, stuff comes not just at a monetary price to us, it comes at a heavy price to the environment and to the rest of the world.

The more I wizened up, the more I began to get sick of shopping. Far from wanting to step into a store, I now hate stepping into one and rarely do, except on the very rare occasion.

I mostly shop for clothes at thrift stores, and what I have and can't use, I like donating to thrift stores so someone else can use it.

Over the years, as I've grown more aware of the environment and coexisting with the rest of the world, I've found out there is no shame in paring down. Anyone can whip out their wallets and swipe a credit card. But living consciously and reducing waste-- that takes courage and determination.

I don't claim to be there 100 percent. There's a lot of waste in my life that I can still cut down on, and yes, I still live in a home that, although certainly not a McMansion, could be downsized. Although we have a large family of animals-- three dogs and two cats as many of you already know-- we find that when we're at home, we essentially use only three rooms: the bedroom, the den and the kitchen. The animals hang out around us most of the time: in fact, they sleep in our bedroom at night and gather with us in the den when we're relaxing. If I'm in the kitchen, they hover around my feet, waiting to see if I might send something their way.

I still have my car, although I long for the day I'll replace it entirely with my bicycle and my feet. I long to live among like-minded friends and neighbors where I can let my dogs run off-leash and enjoy the outdoors without us getting slapped with a lawsuit because they barked at someone. Where my cats can weave in and outdoors without me worrying they'll get run over by a car. Where I can plant all kinds of fruits and vegetables and flowers and smile when I wake up one morning to find the deer ate them up.

It's only a dream now, but this dream, at least to me, is a more substantial one and far richer than the dream I had when I first moved here.

I was thinking of simplicity today when I made this cucumber sandwich for It's A Vegan World: British, the event where we celebrate British food but with a vegan twist. A cucumber sandwich is as simple as great food can get. It's just two slices of bread slathered with butter, wrapped around paper-thin slices of cucumber.

In India, cucumber sandwiches are made by smearing the bread with an herb chutney instead of butter, and that's another level of deliciousness.

I used part-whole-wheat sandwich bread, which I make myself almost each weekend (I'll be posting that recipe too this week), instead of white bread for the sandwich, and I did not peel the cucumber which one might typically do to make these sandwiches extra-dainty. I wanted to keep things as healthy as possible, and of course, the sandwiches were still delicious. I also used vegan butter instead of regular.

Enjoy this simple snack, everyone!

Cucumber Sandwiches

Ingredients:

12 slices of white or part-whole-wheat bread

1 medium cucumber, cut crosswise into slices as thin as you can possibly cut them.

Vegan butter like Earth Balance, softened to room temperature

Slather butter on one side of each slice of bread.

On the buttered side of six slices, place the cucumber slices in a single or slightly overlapping layers.

Sprinkle some salt on the cucumber, if desired.

Place another slice, buttered side down, on top of the cucumbers.

With a sharp knife, trim out the crust of the bread.

Cut once more diagonally, if desired, to create two triangles.

Serve with tea.

Whole-Wheat Blueberry Muffins for IAVW: British

It's British month here at Holy Cow! with It's A Vegan World: British, and what can be more British than a muffin fresh out of the oven?

I remember the time I had my first muffin. It was the early '90s and a British ship that had morphed from a military ship into a floating library that sailed around the world had docked into Bombay Harbor. I went on board to do a story. As someone who loves books with a passion, and because I get seasick, being in a ship lined wall-to-wall with books and not worrying about it sailing away was an extra-special treat, as you might well imagine.

On board was also a little cafetaria that sold some very traditional British sweets and treats. Everything looked amazing, but I pounced at a muffin.

I don't remember exactly how it tasted or what kind of muffin it was, but I remember this: it was delicious, and I was hooked.

I bake up muffins all the time now in my kitchen, and I love them for quick pre-breakfast treats, or as healthy tea-time snacks. I usually make them with fruit, like these applesauce mini muffins or these banana nut muffins. This time, with blueberries overwhelming the market, I decided to make blueberry muffins.

These are not what are typically referred to as English muffins in my part of the world, which are flat, yeasted breads that are not sweet and are usually served for breakfast. I have never developed a taste for those, but these I can eat any time!

I gotta rush off now, but before I go, I also want to send these to Madhuram's wonderfully healthy whole-grain and eggless baking event. These muffins use mostly whole-wheat flour, but they're so delicious, you'd never guess they were deliciously healthy too!

Enjoy!



Whole-Wheat Blueberry Muffins

(Makes 11 muffins)

1 1/2 cups whole wheat flour

1/2 cup all-purpose flour

3/4 cup sugar

1 tsp baking soda

2 tsp baking powder

1/4 tsp salt

Mix all the dry ingredients together and set aside.

In a large bowl, whisk together until mixed:

1/2 cup canola or other vegetable oil

1/4 cup lemon or lime juice (I used lime)

3/4 cup soymilk

Add the mixture to the dry ingredients and mix just until everything's blended.

Add 1 cup blueberries and mix in.

Divide the batter equally into 11 cups of a standard baking pan, greased.

Bake in a 350-degree oven for 22-25 minutes or until a toothpick inserted into the center of a muffin comes out clean.

Cool for 5 minutes on a rack and then slide out using a thin knife.

These muffins are delicate, which gives them a lovely, cakey texture, but that also makes them a little difficult to unmold, so be gentle.

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Quick nudge to all of you amazing cooks out there-- go on, I'm waiting for your entries and to see what you can cook up for IAVW that's vegan AND British. It's not as challenging as it sounds, and I know you're up to it!

Zucchini Flower Bhujias

If there is one word I hate in the English dictionary, it has got to be the word "normal."

Normal is the word that's tacitly bandied around in front of us all day, every day, from the moment we're born. Act normal. Think normal. Be normal so everyone will like and accept you.

But normal is boring. Normal is what makes us a world where we all want to be like someone else, so we all end up being the same. And where's the fun in that?

Instead, give me unusual any day. Or extraordinary, odd, eccentric, weird even-- anything other than normal, so long as it doesn't cross over into evil or harmful. After all, it is those unusual, eccentric, odd people who make me wonder, make me curious, make me want to know what ticks in their heads.

Over time, they are also the ones we remember once time and space has washed away most memories of those who were, well, normal.

I have been lucky enough to come across my share of ordinary people who were anything but normal.

Like David, a homeless wanderer who sometimes sauntered into our neighborhood every once in a while when my brother and I were little children. The adults whispered David was "mad," meaning he didn't think like them, I guess, but we kids loved him and looked forward to his visits with all the curiosity we had in us. The minute someone spotted David, the word would spread fast and all the kids in the neighborhood would gather round him. He would regale us with fantastic stories and play air guitar and have us laughing harder than any other adult ever could or did.

There was Kohinoor, a fellow journalist I met at a newspaper I worked at in Bombay, the Independent. She was quite unlike any person I'd known, because she was so at peace with herself. She didn't try to look like the other journalists, she didn't act like them, and she spoke only when she had something to say. But she was smart and she wrote beautifully, and when she left to get married and move to another city, I remember, I missed her more than I've missed friends I've known much longer.

Or Dennis, a close friend of Desi's and later mine, who is perhaps one of the most unusual people I've ever met. He was loyal and generous to those he cared about, but he didn't think he had to live by the rules. He would give you every last penny he had if you needed it, but he wouldn't stand for someone telling him how to live his life. He was as different from Kohinoor as one can possibly imagine, but he was-- in a strange way-- not unlike her, in that he didn't seem to spend any time worrying about being liked and accepted by the rest of the world. There were a lot of people who thought he was crazy and often said so, and perhaps he was, but he also is one of the most memorable people I've ever known.

I thought about the word "normal" because these past few days, since Michael Jackson died, it's been used so often by the media. He was a great artist, they all say, but if only he'd been normal... Well, I, for one, am glad he didn't fit into a word as restrictive as normal, or he perhaps wouldn't be the genius he was.

So here's to not being straitjacketed into "normal." To being ourselves, and to looking for those things in life that make us truly happy, regardless of how we appear to the rest of the world, so long as our actions don't hurt others.

We deserve it.

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Today's recipe for Zucchini Flower Bhujias or Pakoras is something I thought of making after watching all those beautiful bright-yellow blossoms on my zucchini plants dying unsung, even as I waited for the zucchini fruit to arrive. I had heard you could eat the flowers but had never cooked them before. I looked up some recipes online and came across a few southern-style recipes for zucchini fritters dipped in batter, then deep-fried.

Since pakoras or bhujias are nothing but Indian-style fritters, I thought I'd use a pakora batter for my zucchini flowers.

I love anything deep-fried, but these pakoras were a joyful surprise. They cooked up light, fluffy and simply delicious-- a perfect teatime snack for a Sunday afternoon.

I served these with a chutney similar to this one.

Enjoy, all!

Zucchini Flower Bhujias (Pakoras)

Ingredients:

10 zucchini flowers

3/4 cup chickpea or garbanzo bean flour (besan)

1/2 tsp cumin seeds + 1/2 tsp ajwain seeds (coarsely powdered)

1/2 tsp red chilli powder

1/2 tsp turmeric powder

1/4 tsp baking soda

Salt to taste

Mix all ingredients except the flowers in a bowl. Add just enough water to make a thick paste.

Heat 2 inches of oil in a skillet to between 350 and 375 degrees.

Dip each zucchini flower in the batter to coat evenly, then drop in the hot oil. You can deep-fry several at a time, but make sure you don't crowd the skillet.

Fry on each side until golden brown and puffy.

Serve hot.

Zunka Bhakar

I once spent a magical year in Pune, a then-sleepy city three hours southeast of Bombay's concrete jungle, and nestled in the emerald-green valley of India's Western ghats.

To a young woman from a fast-stepping city like Bombay, Pune in those years seemed a little like the backwaters, at least in the beginning. The pace of life was so slow, at times you'd think the city had forgotten to wake up well into daylight.

I was a student at Pune University's journalism school. Classes were held at Ranade Institute, a one-story building with a terracotta-tiled roof on Fergusson College Road. The building actually looked more like an old, sprawling house which was a surprise, used as I was to the flat, cement-faced college buildings of Bombay. It was surrounded by trees and quite picturesque with an ageless, almost-rural charm.

Pune has traditionally been known as a center of learning, and the area around Ranade was home to a number of old and new colleges. There were a couple of restaurants down the street, one named Vaishali (you can see why I didn't forget the name) and the other Rupali, I think, both popular hangouts for all the students in the area. Often, when attending classes got too tiresome, about half a dozen of us would escape to one of these restaurants and order two or three cups of tea that we'd share along with plenty of conversation.

Sometimes my friend Suchitra and I -- we were both new to the city-- would take off after classes to explore Pune. Getting anywhere was a tiny adventure on the red-and-yellow public transport buses which was all we could afford as broke students. The dust-smothered buses were unfailingly late, had a tendency to break down in the oddest of places, and heaven forbid you were waiting in line around lunchtime because that was when every bus driver in the city took at least two hours off. All you could do was sweat under the sweltering sun and curse under your breath.

The apartment we had rented was in a new development near the city's outskirts. The only grocery store for at least a mile around was run by a young, bearded man named Kulkarni who lived in a room behind the store with his wife and newborn child.

Kulkarni had a way with disappointing you frequently, but with an innocent smile. You'd be dying for a cup of tea and you'd discover you were out, so you'd run to the store to get it, and of course-- he'd just run out of it too. But, he'd promise with a smile, he'd have some more tomorrow.

Each afternoon, Kulkarni would lock the store and retreat into his home for lunch and a nap. The store would remain closed for at least four hours, and if you needed something, well, tough luck.

In the beginning, I'd get mad. With my Bombay blood all a-bubble, I'd wonder why everyone was so accepting about all this sloppiness. To which one of our new friends, Keskar aunty (every earlier-generation acquaintance and friend is an "aunty" or "uncle" in India), would say with a calm smile and in Marathi, the language spoken in Pune: "My dear girl, that's how we are. Punekars are as patient as cows."

It was impossible to argue with such cool acceptance. They know it, I remember thinking incredulously, and they don't want to do anything about it?

But over time, Pune began to get to me. I began to fall in love with the deliberately leisurely pace, the "things will take care of themselves" attitude. I even learned to laugh about Kulkarni and his grocery store, and to wait at the bus stop without busting a gut.

Pune had charms I had never found in Bombay. Everyone seemed to care about everyone else. Everyone was family. It was a safe enough city, but when I once insisted on walking home alone after dark, my father's friend-- whose family I'd been visiting-- sent his son to follow me, at a distance, so they would be sure I got home all right. When I found myself alone at home one night because my father and brother were traveling, a neighbor, without being asked, insisted that her daughter stay over so I wouldn't be lonely or afraid at night.

Strangers kindly offered you a ride on their two-wheelers (and you didn't feel afraid about accepting). New friends opened up their homes and hearts to you. And the city itself had a crumbling, ageless beauty that was easy to love.

One of those crumbling, beautiful places was Sinhagad, a fortress atop a hill a few miles outside Pune. It was once the site of an historic battle and is now a popular picnic site. Getting to the fortress required, at least at the time, climbing up the stony hillside, making it quite an adventure.

Once you were up there, and had your fill of the beautiful landscape and other-century relics, there was the food. In Pune, the locals would rave, there's no Zunka-Bhakar such as the one found at Sinhagad.

This rustic Maharashtrian dish is typically eaten by farmers, although it's easy enough to find it in fast-food stands in the cities now. And it was indeed true that after the rough climb to Sinhagad, the zunka-bhakar, cooked and sold by women whose families lived in huts around the fort, tasted extra delicious.

I go back to Pune now each time I visit India, because one of Desi's brothers lives there. I always look forward to it, although the city has changed into a pollution-clogged, fast-moving clone of Bombay. Last year we got into a nasty spat with a goon-like guard at the jazzed-up Dagdu Sheth Ganesha temple because he insisted we couldn't take pictures of the temple from the street. Our argument quickly drew a crowd of people who butted in to insist that the guard must be right. At the time I wondered, had Pune's accepting attitude gone too far?

Maybe, but I will always have my memories of a wonderful place where I first found out that not rushing through life at a blind clip can be, by itself, deeply satisfying.

I found myself thinking of Pune last week when I cooked up this zunka bhakar. Zunka is made by stir-frying vegetables like green peppers, spring onions or even cabbage with chickpea or garbanzo bean flour and spices. It is simplicity itself, yet incredibly delicious.

Bhakar is a rustic bread made with jowar (sorghum) or bajra (millet) flour, which are easy enough to find in Indian grocery stores. You'd eat the zunka by scooping it up with a piece of bhakar. Both are typically accompanied by a spicy, fiery powder made primarily of red chillies and raw onions.

All together, they are exactly the stuff great comfort food is made of.

Enjoy, all!


Zunka

Ingredients:

3/4 cup chickpea flour (garbanzo bean flour or besan)

1 green pepper, finely diced

1 onion, finely diced

1 bunch scallions or spring onions (about 6), both green and white parts finely diced

1 tsp red chilli powder

1/2 tsp turmeric powder

1 tsp mustard seeds

A generous pinch of asafetida (hing)

Salt to taste

1/4 cup chopped garlic greens or chopped coriander

Roast the chickpea flour lightly, stirring, until it smells fragrant, about 5 minutes on medium-low heat.

Spray oil in a skillet. Add asafetida and sustard seeds. When the seeds sputter, add the onions. Saute until the onions turn translucent but before they start to color.

Add the chilli powder, turmeric, spring onions and chopped green peppers. Saute for a few minutes until the vegetables start to soften.

Add the chickpea flour and salt and stir in. Add 1 cup of water.

Stir well, cover, and cook on medium-low heat about 7-8 minutes, stirring occasionally, until all the water has been absorbed.

Turn off heat. Garnish with the garlic greens or coriander leaves. Serve hot with bhakri (recipe follows).

Bhakri

2 cups millet or bajra flour

1 tsp salt

Water to knead.

Mix the flour and salt in a bowl. Add water, a little at a time, kneading the flour until the dough comes together in a ball.

Pull off a lemon-size piece of the dough. Sprinkle the rolling surface liberally with all-purpose or wheat flour and roll out the bhakri carefully into a circle about 4-5 inches in diameter.

These bhakris are extremely difficult to roll, so it might take some time to get it right. I sometimes substitute half the millet flour with regular whole-wheat flour which makes them easier to roll.

Heat a cast-iron or other griddle. Place the bhakri on it and leave alone until the surface starts to turn opaque. Flip over. Smear a little oil over the bhakri. Cook both sides until golden-brown spots appear.

Serve hot with the zunka, and some raw, chopped onions.

It's A Vegan World: British (And Blueberry Jam)

I know, I know, you're looking at that headline and wondering, British food? British vegan food? Is she off her rocker?

It's true that British food has long suffered the bad reputation of being, well, boring. But let's not be quick to judge. After all, who gave the world sandwiches, scones, jams, pies and muffins? And potato chips, which are just about my favorite food in the world.

The Brits, of course.

What's more, modern British cooks like Jamie Oliver and Nigella Lawson, to name just two, have breathed delicious new life into the food of the land. And the sizeable populations of immigrant communities in Britain -- led by Indians-- have contributed their own rich flavors to the local cuisine. In fact, former foreign secretary Robin Cook once declared Chicken Tikka Masala Britain's national dish! :)

Of course, chicken tikka masala or anything chicken or animal-related is not allowed into this event, as you well know. But feel free to come up with vegan versions of any meat-containing dish, or just any vegan dish as we explore the cuisine of yet another country.

Lavi of Home Cook's Recipes just concluded It's A Vegan World: Moroccan, and the roundup should be up shortly on her blog.

Meanwhile, here are the guidelines for IAVW: British--

-The deadline is July 31, 2009.

-These foods are no-nos in vegan cooking, so please leave them out: honey, butter, eggs, cheese, ghee, milk, yogurt (basically no milk-based products), gelatin, and, of course, no meats or fish. Vegan meat or cheese substitutes are fine.

-The recipe should be cooked for this event. You can cook any recipe that would either be traditionally British, or have roots in typical British cuisine (including Scottish, Irish and Welsh), or classified as, say, British-Indian or British-any-other-country. But while the dish could have originated from these other countries, it should now be considered uniquely British. For instance, see this recipe for Golden Zucchini Balti. Balti is a type of Indian curry that's distinctly and uniquely British.

-Link back to this announcement, and feel free to use the logo below.

-Non-bloggers are also very welcome. Just send me your recipe and a picture.

-As for bloggers, send me an email with your post to myveganworld[at]gmail.com. Include these details:

Your name

Blog name

Post url

Photograph (any size)***

To go with my announcement for It's A Vegan World: British, I thought I'd whip up some Blueberry Jam to slather over those scones and muffins.

This is one of the easiest jams you can make. There's no need for thickeners like pectin. All you need is blueberries, sugar, and some lemon or lime juice.

Have a great Fourth of July weekend everyone!
Blueberry Jam

Ingredients:

1 pint blueberries, washed and dried

1/4 to 1/2 cup sugar (vary based on how sweet your berries are)

1 tbsp lemon juice

Zest of 1 lemon

Combine the blueberries and sugar in a heavy saucepan over medium-low heat. (Slice or crush the blueberries first if you want a finer-textured jam. I like mine chunky and textured, so I use them whole).

When the sugar melts and the juices of the blueberries start to flow and bubble, add the lemon and zest.

Crush the blueberries carefully with a potato masher or the back of a ladle.

Continue to cook for another 20-30 minutes until the juices have thickened.

Allow the jam to cool and transfer to an airtight jar. Store in the refrigerator.

Enjoy!

Spicy Urad Dal

In India's multifarious regional cuisines, each ingredient chosen plays an important and intricate role in creating the complexity of any given dish.

Take dal, for instance. There are thousands and more ways to make a dal, and the diversity of flavor in each dal recipe begins, at the most basic level, with the choice of lentils used.

Most Indian cooks have a half a dozen or so lentils in their pantry, give or take a couple, each with a distinct flavor. But the ones you'll find featured most commonly in dal recipes are chana dal, tuvar dal, masoor dal, udad dal and moong dal.

Each traditional dal recipe is associated with a specific lentil. For instance, dal makhani is made with udad dal while a Maharashtrian varan is made with yellow split peas or tuvar dal. Some South Indian kootus and masials use moong dal while some Bengali dals use chana dal as a base.

You could, of course, substitute other lentils in these recipes, and the results could be perfectly edible, but they wouldn't be dal makhani or varan. Get it?

Each dal recipe, no matter what it's called, usually starts with boiling the lentils to tenderness (I do this in a pressure cooker and sometimes in a microwave), and ends with a tadka, which is a process of heating oil and adding a few spices to it, like mustard or cumin seeds or garlic or curry leaves. The tempered oil is then added to the dal to give it a crowning dash of flavor.

I usually use tuvar dal, masoor dal or moong dal to make most of my dals. But the recipe I am about to share today is made with udad dal, a tiny white lentil with a black skin.

Udad dal has a mildly bitter flavor and a slightly slippery-sticky texture which makes it great as a binding agent in dishes like idlis, steamed rice cakes, and dosas, lentil and rice crepes that are popular in South Indian cuisine and restaurants around the world.

In this dish, the udad is combined with a number of spices, and their fire is toned down at the tail end with the addition of a dollop or two of vegan butter that also adds a smooth creaminess.

Here goes the recipe. Enjoy!

Spicy Urad Dal

Ingredients:

1 cup urad dal (black gram dal)

3 tomatoes, pureed (I used fresh tomatoes because they're abundantly available in the market right now, but you can use 1 1/2 cup of canned tomatoes)

10 cloves of garlic, minced or grated

1-inch piece of ginger, grated

1 tsp garam masala

1 tsp red chilli powder

1/2 tsp turmeric

2 tbsp vegan "butter," like Earth Balance

1 tbsp canola or other vegetable oil

Cook or pressure-cook the dal along with the ginger, red chilli powder, turmeric and some salt until tender and mushy.

Heat the oil in a skillet or saucepan.

Add the garlic and stir quickly for about a minute. Add the tomatoes and cook until they express the oil.

Add the cooked urad dal and garam masala powder and stir together. Check for salt and add more if needed.

If the dal is too thick, add some water.

Simmer for about 15 minutes on medium-low heat.

At the very end, add the 2 tbsp of vegan butter. Stir in. Turn off heat.

Garnish with chopped coriander leaves.

Serve hot with rice or rotis.