My version of white chili. With lime.

Easy Chicken Chili Time


New Year's Day looms. Ah, the annual parades. The glut of bowl games. The feast of football. Pigskin is king. Tight ends are tightening. Quarterbacks are quarterbacking. And kickers are praying to the football gods they won't be called in for a chip-shot, with 6 seconds to spare in the final quarter. Do I sound like I know what I am talking about? I don't. I just overheard some manly sporty banter over gluten-free tuna melts. To which I smiled politely.

And reached for a pickle.

Even after watching every episode of Friday Night Lights, I still don't understand a down. Football is a mystery. Back fields in motion. Penalties! Off sides. Snap. Blitz. Gotta love the lingo. It's a language alluringly foreign to me. Like math.

Or for some, perhaps it's akin to say... abstract expressionism.

Visual chaos executed in angles and arcs and bursts of focus, drive and energy.

Thing is, I get the practiced dance of propulsion. Designing motion from multiple points of view. I get it. In my bones. This is my territory. You're talkin' my language. Value verses tone. Light bumping up against dark. Sharp contrast dissolving into blur. I appreciate the power of practice and intention. Negative space divided by a perfect spiral.

Think of the interplay of icing thick paint and oceanic viscosity.  The quickening beauty of a layered surface, vibrating with complementary colors. Transparency and opacity. Cool against warm. Unprimed and primed. Lost and found edges. The seduction of action's evidence. The painter's hand. Rugged tooth and clean, smooth paper.

Though it's not all yin yang, a wrestle of opposites.

As in football- and life- painting is a focus of expression, sometimes true and authentic, and sometimes disappointingly off the mark.

Like a short field goal.

We try. We sometimes miss. But what matters is- we make the effort. And that is all we can do. We kick the ball. We brush wet paint. We string words into a lyric. We stitch a quilt. We photograph a child's curiosity. We make chili.

And sometimes?

We get a winner.

And if not?

Tomorrow is another day.


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Photo of gluten free cranberry bread

Holiday Perfect: Cranberry Tea Bread 


Christmas and cranberries. The two go together like Beatles and Sunday. Brad and Angie. Milk and cookies. I was imagining a tea bread that might work for gluten-free French toast, you see. The sort of breakfast you'd like to wake up to on Christmas morning. Something warm with melting butter and cozy cinnamon. Something festive. Special. Not your average grab-on-the-go with coffee nosh. A gluten-free bread worthy of a holiday.

That's how it all started.

When it dawned me. Cranberry bread. Why not? It's simple. And not too sweet. It flirts magically with maple syrup. So I started daydreaming about the tart little berry that is a bog's ruby jewel.

And a gluten-free cranberry bread recipe was born.


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Award winning enchiladas- my sweet potato and black bean combo.



Karina's Sweet Potato Black Bean Enchiladas


With Thanksgiving fast approaching, sweet potatoes are the talk of the town in Foodieville. The debate typically constellates around the mini marshmallow issue. Or orange juice vs cider issue. But for yours truly in Gluten-Free Land, sweet potatoes are best served spicy. Tucked into enchiladas with tender black beans and a roasted green chile sauce.

This budget-friendly vegetarian enchilada recipe is one of those happy accidents that spring from a burst of creative inspiration. I was craving the soft and spicy comfort of enchiladas one windy spring night back in 2003, and I had none of the usual suspects on hand (no chicken, or beef, no pinto beans).

But I had one lovely mother of a sweet potato.

I had a can of organic black beans in the pantry.

Some roasted green chiles.

One lonely lime.

And your intrepid Mamacita at large thought, Hmmm. Why not?

Deliciousness ensued.

These wrapped little gems are soft and creamy and a little bit spicy- just like a certain cook, my point-scoring husband wisecracks. It's the yams, I tell him. Er, sweet potato. I can never tell the difference. In the end, it doesn't matter.

What matters is how it tastes.

And Babycakes, these are so very mucho scrumptious. Seriously. I kid you not. Make a batch for a girls' night in, or a laid back Sunday brunch.

Or dazzle a vegetarian on Thanksgiving day.


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Cider roasted veggies for Thanksgiving- vegan and gluten-free
Cider roasted vegetables- pair with polenta, rice or quinoa.

For those of you celebrating Thanksgiving without the bird, here's a quick round-up of my favorite gluten-free vegetarian holiday recipes to inspire you.

Most of these recipes are actually vegan- a dairy-free plus for those of us gluten-free and casein-free. The few recipes garnished with cheese can be easily converted to dairy-free status by using your favorite vegan cheese.

In my kitchen, that's the way the cornbread crumbles.


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quinoa salad recipe with pears, chick peas and baby spinach
Quinoa salad with pears, chick peas and baby spinach.

Vegan Gluten-Free Bliss


If you're looking for a fresh idea to liven up your ho-hum salad plate, Babycakes, have I got a recipe for you. Light, vegan, and packed with protein, this is no ordinary bunny food. It's got teeth- er, I mean, quinoa. Studded with nutty, buttery chick peas and crunchy toasted pecans and succulent jewels of ripe, juicy pears. And did I mention, in a bowl licking maple vinaigrette?

In fact, this is a salad even salad haters would eat. You know, those stalwart gotta have my meat and potatoes aficionados who eschew anything leafy. Who snicker at fiber. And mock carrot sticks. The sort of individual who gets misty eyed for melted butter and bacon martinis. To said individuals, salad could never be anything but rabbit chow. But this lovely mélange of flavors just might pique their interest. The sheer luxurious deliciousness of these autumnal flavors might coax them into flirting with bunny food goodness. Just this once. Then- who knows what could happen? They might settle in, fork poised, all dubious and dreaming of rib eye. They might take a bite. And then another. And another. And before you can say blueberry pancakes on a stick- they might actually smack their lips and grin and hold out their empty plate for more.

And you.

You could smile back, sly and slow, as you reach for the serving spoon to comply with their new found desire.

And feed their craving.


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Gluten-free pumpkin muffins
These wheat-free pumpkin muffins feature coconut flour and almond flour.

Favorite Companion


We found canned organic pumpkin on the store shelves this week. So be prepared for pumpkin recipes. I, for one, Darling, can't get enough. Pumpkin is my favorite fall ingredient. Maybe because it cozies up to gluten-free flours so well. It adds moisture and depth to g-free baked goods. It flirts with cinnamon and ginger like the sexiest, inscrutable movie star. You know what I'm talking about. It's not overt. Or blatant. It's not over the top. It is subtle. Secure.

Pumpkin doesn't demand to be admired.

Because it doesn't have to prove itself.

It's not a bully flavor that crushes gentler flavors in its wake. It doesn't bark and claw to be Top Dog 24/7. It doesn't have a deep seated need to own the room, to dominate, to control the ingredients it shares a bowl with.

Pumpkin goes with the flow.

It likes vanilla.

And it likes chocolate.

You could say, it's bi-flavorful.

Which happens to be a quality I admire. Even embody and embrace. Because life is brimming with diversity. Life is rich and complicated, sticky and glorious. And for every preference I may think I cherish, there are sure to be a dazzling array of alternative preferences twinkling beyond my peripheral vision like so many bokeh jewels.


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Delicious gluten-free pumpkin pancakes with maple syrup and apricot jam
Pumpkin pancakes with apricot jam and pepitas.

I haven't made gluten-free pancakes in a long time. I am- typically- not a big breakfast person. A solo slice of golden gluten-free toast glistening with melting cashew butter and a big mug of hot coconut milk chai usually does it for me.

So what possessed me to change my routine? Why did I suddenly have a deep growling desire for pancakes?

In a word: pumpkin.

My favorite cucurbit.

I could wax ridiculously poetic about this humble gourd and what it brings to the grit littered landscape of gluten-free land. I could draw you a map of flavor that curves through a forest of cinnamon and nutmeg. I could don a teacher's cardigan and chart the impact of pumpkin's inherent cellular moisture on milled non-gluten grains. I could sport an orange baseball cap and pitch you a three act plot line where pumpkin is the hero rescuing the wan, deprived princess in the Kingdom of Celiac.

But instead? I'll just share the recipe.


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Gluten-Free Apple Cake Muffins - light and sweet
A tender and light apple cake muffin. Gluten and dairy free.

Apple Cake Inspired


Before we get to muffins, I have a game for you. Created spontaneously one night, after some dizzying Facebook scrolling (when did Facebook become one endless stream of bumper stickers?). Pardon my yawning.

I think I'll call this amusement... The Dating Game. Here's how it hatched over crudities and hummus.

"I wish I knew you in high school," I tell my husband. This is not news to him, by the way. It's a popular topic lately, now that I am in my second adolescence, eighteen years past mid-life.

I sketch for him a vivid narrative of study hall humiliations and spikes of burning shame, waving a carrot stick in his direction, just for emphasis. I search for words to depict how it feels when a snickering quarterback punches your clutch of school books with his fists, sending you to your knees in a crowded hallway to rescue the sprawl of English homework, algebra and biology books that emit the faint smell of ink and gum.

He sighs audibly. He hates to hear these stories.

"I would have played you my Tommy album," I say. "I would have cooked you brown rice and tamari. We would have talked about books. Siddhartha. On the Road. Women in Love."

He smiles and adds, "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas."

We toast Hunter Thompson with our mineral water.

"You wouldn't have liked me in high school," he says.

This isn't the first time I have heard this. It always puzzles me. Though he tells me this with less conviction now that he's been married to me for seventeen and a half years. I picture him in Levi's and an un-tucked flannel shirt. Beefy, brainy, sarcastic.

"I was angry," he mentions.

"Me too," I say, "but on the inside. A classic geek. They called me Four-Eyes."

"That's original," he says, popping an olive.

"And Sandwich," I add.

He raises an eyebrow. "Sandwich?"

"Yeah," I sigh. "Because of my hair. Straight. Thin. Parted down the middle. Like this." I place the edges of my palms on either side of my face. "Sandwich."

"Bullies," he says, and shakes his head in disgust.

Suddenly I feel inspired.

"Let's date in high school! Let's watch the movies we loved. Share music. Talk about books."

He laughs but I can tell he is visualizing it.

"For our first date," I tell him, "let's see Easy Rider. It rocked my fifteen-year-old world. Peter Fonda. Captain America. It launched me into orbit."

I sit back, sip mineral water, and glance at him sideways. I conjure my best rendition of my fifteen-year-old self.

"Hey. Wanna see Easy Rider?" I ask.

"It's rated R," he tells me. "We'll have to sneak you in. Or get you a fake ID."


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Gluten-Free Vegan Potato Salad - Simplicity
Gluten-Free Vegan Potato Salad - Simplicity

I am thinking of you. As I pack. Folding linens into squares (next to impossible with fitted sheets). Wrestling with rebellious hangers. Cradling white soup plates in sheets of recycled paper. Boxing and taping and labeling our material life once again. Our seven year journey westward now migrating east. Back to the Cape.

Cape Cod, Massachusetts.


Where we first touched, shaking hands goodbye at the end of a six week painting class (it would take you two and a half years to call me and invite me for coffee).

Where I raked up a post-hurricane marriage and as I sorted through tree limbs and debris saw the biggest rainbow curve high above the destruction.

Where I set up my freedom cottage as a single mother, living in 350 square feet by wits and faith.

Where I learned to trust my instincts. And snip free the soft lies agreed upon.

Where you finally did call.

Where we began our marriage. Our life as parents. Best friends. Lovers. Painters.

Where I most feel at home. By the New England sea.

Returning. With sand in my shoes that I never shook free.



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Gluten-Free Goddess Orange Creme Cupcakes - Vegan + Dairy-Free #glutenfree

Sunny Sweetness with a Twist

On my To-Do List for nearly forever has been creating a gluten-free vegan recipe for my favorite birthday treat- a fresh and fragrant orange cake with orange creme frosting. Since it isn't my birthday until June (and it's just the two of us living out here in the Connecticut hills) I decided to experiment with making cupcakes instead of a layer cake. 

Orange cupcakes just sounded refreshing.

Sunny and sweet.

I had such a good time in the kitchen this week making these sweet little gems. In fact, I'll be working on more recipes for vegan cupcakes in the near future, including basic vanilla cupcakes, chocolate cupcakes, carrot, perhaps, and a few other tasty flavor combos.

Now that I know how easy it is to bake delicious gluten-free vegan cupcakes, the sky's the limit.

Off to pack. 

Did I mention we're moving again?



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Gluten-Free Goddess does zucchini brownies
Zucchini adds moisture to these fudgy gluten-free brownies.

Baking Therapy


In the thick of joy and the slow drain of heartache, I bake. I've mentioned this before. Baking is my way. I tie on my apron and rustle up my inner domestic goddess and cope with the world. Because joy tastes sweeter shared with those you love, gathered around a clatter of plates and clinking glasses and spoons licked clean. And heartache...

Well, heartache may not be soothed or tamed by a cookie or slice of cake.

But it doesn't hurt to try.

As for me, I've been reading several (new to me) books this summer. And I suppose, if you were to analyze the connecting themes, you might discern a search not only for meaning in a sticky, complicated post 9/11 world, but also for release. Release from the grip of societal expectations, collective assumptions, and the yoke of consumerism (I am, after all, post estrogen dependence; priorities do not include miracle-push-up bras, nail polish decals, waxed nether regions or upper lip injections).

I am more interested in keeping my mind agile than my thighs firm.

Hence the books I'm reading. Newest (to me) is Buddha's Brain. I'm learning about the amazing plasticity of the mind, and the neuro-scientific practice of creating new "wiring" (especially as we age) by gently training our mind to release ancient, habitual (so often, negative and critical) thought patterns (what the PhDs call neural pathways but what I like to refer to as my teeth-grinding mental squirrel in a cage wearing my grandmother's wig) and cultivate more self compassion. Which in turn makes everyone happier, apparently.

I guess if you're feeling at peace with the energy ebb and sometimes tumultuous flow of your days and nights, and baking brownies with those surplus zucchinis, and watching the magical late afternoon sunlight dappling the backs of a pair of wild turkeys guiding their brood of nine into the blackberries below the kitchen window, you can feel pretty blissed out.

Or maybe it's the chocolate talking.


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A new gluten free cobbler recipe made with juicy ripe peaches
Warm from the oven. My gluten-free peach cobbler recipe.


Cobbler Redux


Is Mercury in retrograde? And if so, Darling, do I believe it can wreak havoc with recipes? I started out with a different approach to this peach cobbler recipe, you see. I thought I'd try out the new Betty Crocker Gluten-Free Bisquick mix I bought this week. I imagined a golden topped biscuity crust you could sink your teeth into, a melt-in-your-mouth forkful of shortcake, dripping with warm and sticky-sweet juice.

But what I got was a bone white mound of anemic dough (scarily reminiscent of Play Dough baked into what can only be described as yesterday's mashed potatoes. It didn't even try to turn golden. And it didn't melt in your mouth like a biscuit.

It just sat there on your tongue.

Flavorless.

Bored.

Expecting to be admired without effort.

Like those fame junkies who are famous for simply being famous. They haven't actually accomplished anything to garner their celebrity status. They just nurture a deeper narcissistic ambition than your average high school beauty queen. They expect adulation because they exist.

Like an awful lot of the gluten-free foods churned out by corporate entities.

They expect we'll fall to our knees with gratitude just because it sports two little words on its label. As if the virtue of being gluten-free is enough. Enough to get us to shell out almost seven hard earned dollars for two and a half cups of cheap refined starch and the privilege of convenience.

And don't get me wrong. I get the allure. I do.

I mean, you're standing there in the supermarket. It's late. You're hungry. And it's right there in front of you. Right next to the 40 acres of shiny wheat laden stuff you can't have. Ever. And those magic words: Gluten-Free! They sparkle. Someone up there in the land of corporate giants has heard of us! They validate you and your odd little disease.

We exist!

And hence, we may consume.

They are recognizing us now, Sweetpea, because we constitute a billion dollar windfall. The food industry has awakened to the perky reality TV version of celiac disease. And sure, I know. The argument is, It's all good. Any awareness is positive (even though the gluten-free diet may be in danger of losing street cred because of its faddish status with actresses who subscribe to its hyped promise of weight loss).

Can the drive for GF profit lead to better eating, though?

I'm not so sure. If the tepid taste of Betty Crocker's Bisquick is any indication, we have not come a long way, baby. Big companies use the cheapest ingredients they can to conjure stuff for the growing gluten-free demand. That means there's an awful lot of "old school gluten-free" going on (based on Bette Hagman's twenty-year old white rice flour and starch blend, perhaps?). G-free mixes and packaged foods use predominately refined white rice flour and inexpensive starches. A glut of empty calories.

Like @AutumnMakes tweeted yesterday, "...funny how it seems the big corps are years behind the everyday gluten-free bakers..."

Indeed. We humble home cooks have discovered the soft, lovely crumb of sorghum and almond flour. Gluten-free cornmeal and buckwheat. Our baking isn't dull or crumbly, dry, or without pizazz. Our flour choices reflect a preference for taste, texture and higher nutrition. And I think we're smarter than the average consumer.

So for now I'm going to continue to eschew the walk down the center food aisles (as Michael Pollan advises). I'll focus on my own gluten-free flour blends and eating whole foods daily.

And in a pinch, when some wild craving hits and I'm too tired to deal with three separate flour bags, I'll use a GF pancake mix (both small family companies who have been in our celiac corner from the beginning).

And I'll create my own cobbler topping, thank you.



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Quinoa breakfast bars with blueberries are gluten free
Quinoa flakes make a delicious gluten-free breakfast bar.

For gluten-free folks who prefer to avoid rolled oats (even certified gluten-free oats and oatmeal), I have good news. Quinoa hot cereal flakes are enough like rolled oats that I use them in all kinds of baking recipes. From classic fruit crisps and crumbles, to chewy cookies and cinnamon laced carrot raisin cake, quinoa flakes are a tasty, nutritious alternative to gluten-free oats. 

I love the nutty, complex taste quinoa flakes bring to a gluten-free recipe. 

I hope you do, too.

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Low FODMAP Zucchini Bread Recipe from Karina, Gluten-Free Goddess
Gluten-Free Goddess Zucchini Bread - low FODMAPs.

FODMAPs-- What?


Time to discuss a rather- ahem- delicate matter. I am risking this flight of indelicacy on a food and recipe blog for the sake and comfort of those of you who happen to find yourselves in the same irksome boat, paddling (frustratingly!) upstream to symptom-free.

Despite going gluten-free- and six years later, dairy-free- certain individuals (that would be... moi) still endured unexplained bouts of bloating (we're talking epic, pregnant belly style bloating, Babycakes) and IBS-D (take this as a euphemism for spending untold hours reading last year's IKEA catalog perched on gleaming porcelain). Beyond annoying. All this unpredictable, stabbing pain and general, all-around unpleasantness- despite being scrupulously gluten-free and dairy-free, shunning such risk-taking activities as eating out with friends, or trying a new gluten-free product labeled "processed in a facility that also processes wheat, dairy and nut products" (this is easier than it seems- truth is, I am never really tempted, thanks to my tendency toward humbling, capricious IBS-D*).

Then... I discovered The Culprit.

An unholy cluster of indigestible sugars called FODMAPs. Aka Fermentable Oligo-Di-Monosaccharides and Polyols. Yep.

Glancing down the list of foods high in FODMAPs, I saw my triggers confirmed, listed one by one in all their nemesis glory. Wheat. Lactose. Onions. Sorbitol. BEANS. (See below recipes for a basic FODMAPs list.)

Sound familiar? Ring any bells?

Not every FODMAP rich food is a trigger for everyone- we each seem to have our own FODMAP Top Ten List. (I am lucky enough to be able to handle a modest amount of avocado now, or a quarter cup of roasted broccoli, for instance. But if an onion sneaks its way into guac, or pasta sauce, or soup, I am one expanding, hurtin' unit.)

Start a food diary to help identify your triggers and keep track of your symptoms. Be vigilant with knowing your ingredients. Avoiding FODMAPs might be the missing puzzle piece. Like me, you just might find your life (and tortured gut) transformed.

I decided to gather all my gluten-free dairy-free FODMAP friendly recipes in an index- for your consideration and convenience- just in case your tummy has trouble with these sneaky little indigestible sugars, like mine. Some of these recipes may contain a trigger ingredient for you- so read recipes carefully, choose wisely, omit an ingredient, as necessary.

*Side note: If you are not taking a good probiotic Darling, get thee to a natural market/drugstore STAT. I cannot stress enough how important it is for gluten-free folks to be on a probiotic (specifically lactobacillus acidophilus which targets the small intestine). Celiac disease- and its treatment (a gluten-free diet)- instigates/encourages bacterial imbalance in the small intestine. And key lime yogurt isn't gonna do it. We're way beyond what Jamie Lee likes. Get yourself some proper probiotics with lactobacillus acidophilus-- and no inulin (see why below)Probiotics help IBS-D and IBS-C- immensely. 



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Quinoa salad with blueberries, strawberries and mint.
A summer quinoa salad studded with fresh, ripe fruit.

Summer Simplicity


I cook sparingly in the heat of summer. And only if I absolutely have to. It's one of the perks of being a grown up- and post empty nest. We cook if we feel like it. And if we don't? We grab some baby spinach and chard, frisee and herbs and make a salad. We like to keep things simple.

That's no surprise to you, I'm sure.

I don't exactly do elaborate. We don't go for complicated around here. And goddess knows, we don't do formal. If we can toss together a bowl of fresh salad greens and herbs, and add some quickly cooked protein to make a meal of it, we're content. We might add strips of organic free-range chicken grilled with lemon and black pepper. Or a piece of wild salmon broiled with a touch of agave and lime. Perhaps an organic boiled egg. Or two. If we're lucky, some leftover cooked quinoa.

Dinner in a flash.

Quintessential summer.

So today's post (and recipe) is a nod to the natural marriage of summer and simplicity. Get out of the house. Step away from the screen.

Disconnect.

Reconnect.


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Gluten-Free Goddess Peach Crisp
Fabulous and peachy. Gluten-free peach crisp with oats.
 

Peachy Goodness.


Your plucky gluten-free goddess at large has been conjuring egg-free disasters- one after another- in her tiny blue-tiled cocina. And tossing said disasters (affectionately known as drek) into the trash bin left and right, developing quite an aim despite her gloomy disposition.

She shoots- she scores!

In fact, the greenbacks spent on the alternative flours, gluten-free casein-free mixes, tiny allergen-free chocolate chips and organic bananas could have bought said Gluten-Free Goddess a lovely bottle of Lavanila Summer. The big bottle, not the purse size. 

And by the way, don't believe what they tell you about subbing eggs with bananas in a chocolate recipe, Babycakes, unless you have a taste for tacky, gummy brownies that have a faint but distinct Eau de Baby Food top note.

But in every third act... there's a moment.

You know, that pregnant pause, where our bruised but glistening heroine turns- damp and tendrilled, emotionally raw, soy-free chocolate smears artfully adorning her noble apron- and tucks an errant wisp of hair behind her left ear as she squints into the radiating oven, inhales a whiff of cinnamon-laced peachy heaven and senses deep in her fragile loyal heart she's got a winner. 

Cue music.

Darling, this summery vegan treat is so luscious your gluten-eating wiener-chomping friends will scrape their plates shiny clean and beg for more. They will. Promise.

So you may as well make two. One for them.

And one for you.



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The richest, creamiest vegan ice cream I've ever made.

Peanut Butter Ice Cream, Baby.


It is hot and steamy here in New England. And I am not cooking. I am not even boiling water for my habitual ritual of afternoon tea. I am sitting in front of a petite blue desk-top fan. Eating ice cream. Homemade ice cream, to be exact. With nary a trace of dairy or gluten. And apparently, it is the best homemade ice cream I have ever made (so says my ever willing, taste-testing husband).

The inspiration came via one of our favorite Los Angeles restaurants- Akasha, in Culver City. At Akasha you can always find a lovely gluten-free choice on the menu- as well as something vegan, which by default, is dairy-free. A sigh-of-relief option for those of us saddled not only with celiac disease, but a dairy intolerance as well. (As a side note, I have found it harder to dine out dairy-free than gluten-free-- chefs love their butter, cream, and cheese. And because they pre-prepare so many items on the menu, it is often impossible to find a dairy-free choice.) One of the gluten-free dessert choices at Akasha is vegan peanut butter ice cream. It. Is. Simply. Divine. So I decided to try my hand at re-creating it.

Here's what I came up with.


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Fresh organic cherries- vegan and gluten-free- naturally.
Fresh organic cherries. Mother Nature's ruby gems.

Cherry Baby

Summer is heating up. And so is yours truly in all her hot flashing glory. (We'll get to the cherry almond crisp recipe in a moment- but first I have to get something off my chest.)

Last night my husband was scanning channels on cable. I sat down next to him, (quickie dinner plate perched on my knee) and crunched romaine lettuce, almonds and dried cherries as he watched the end of the Shawshank Redemption. One of his favorite movies. An affection shared by many a cinephile. This is a beloved film.

Then I heard it.

A line that stung and burned so deep and hot I stopped chewing. I stopped breathing. I sat as still as the fork on my uneaten plate of salad.

The despicable, murdering bully of a prison guard is being led away by police. We hear the voice of God Morgan Freeman purr with quiet authority that rumor has it this cruel and abusive man was led away "crying like a little girl".

The ultimate put down. Not only did he cry. He cried like a girl.

Because, really, who would ever want to be caught crying like a girl? It's the ultimate in weakness. The worst thing you could say about a man. It's dependent. It's needy. It's unmanly. Inadequate. Irrational. Disgusting.

Worthy of contempt.

A flood of sneers and mocking imagery ran through my head. All the put-downs of childhood endured and encoded in the hippocampus, stashed away for safe keeping.

You throw like a girl. You run like a girl. You cry like a girl.

Bullies. Belittling. Because girls are less worthy. Less capable. Less whole.

It's a message our culture delivers every day, via media of all kinds. From raunchy punchlines about yeast infections to commercials for thigh cream, from political pundits calling single women sluts, to the latest (oops!) leaked sex tape, from a misogynist song lyric that rhymes with witch to the impossibly high platform heels women teeter in, hobbled for fashion's sake, shoes designed for prey.

I think about this and our nation's Cult of Youth as I walk and sigh at twilight, wearing Converse sneakers and photographing violet shadows with my iPhone.

How often are girls and women celebrated for something other than appearance- a pretty object to penetrate, to own, or rate on a scale of one to ten.

And after a certain age- it only gets worse.

Just look at Botox sales stats. Women fear aging with a depth of disgust unfathomable. We are buoyed on an ocean of revulsion toward aging. Why else would we fail- collectively- to tell the honest truth about plastic surgery and the freakish waxy desperation it exudes? There isn't an actress over the age of 30 who can express worry or surprise with her forehead muscles any more (well that's an exaggeration. There are, maybe... three?).

Ask yourself- how often do we get to see ourselves depicted honestly, as complicated, brave, strong, authentically sexual- never mind brilliant, sassy, dimensional - and not be reduced to mere object or caricature?

Or worse, invisible.

This keeps me up at night. This girl stuff. This aging stuff. This what-do-I-do-next stuff. My hip starts to ache and I lie in the dark and feel no closer to solving my dilemma than I did yesterday. Or the day before.

And tonight?

I am sorry to say, I am no closer to an answer.

But at least I've told something true.



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Olive tapenade spread on a slice of gluten free baguette
Vegan olive spread on a slice of gluten-free French bread.

A Beautiful Taste


Summer is officially here. The longest day of the year has paused on her axis for one delightful exhale. The big fat Strawberry Moon will be illuminating the sky tonight. Mother Nature's biggest full moon show of 2013. It is a perfect moment to stop. And put down your various electronic devices (seductive and addictive and shiny as they are).

Turn your gaze skyward. To something bigger than yourself. To something mythic and eternal. Timeless and rooted in dreams.

Celebrate the kind happiness of a warm summer night.

And whip up this simple tapenade.

Perfect for topping slices of a fresh baked baguette (my easy gluten-free baguette recipe using Pamela's wheat-free bread mix is here).

This salty, tangy olive spread is also a lovely no-cook pasta sauce.



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Ripe strawberries make delicious non-dairy sherbet

The Gems of June

Now is the perfect time for a sherbet recipe. Why? Because June is lush and abundant in strawberries. And how do I love these sweet ruby gems? Any way I can get 'em. Popped into my mouth straight from the colander. Rolled in brown sugar and nibbled. Baked into scones (have you tried my Strawberry Chocolate Chip Scones recipe?) and Strawberry Chocolate Chip Muffins. Nestled into Strawberry Rhubarb Crisp.

And this week- transformed into a bliss inducing non-dairy frozen confection.

Sherbet- berry pink and creamy and just sweet enough. Studded with vegan dark chocolate chips (darling you know I love strawberries and chocolate together, and I commingle the two every chance I get).

So I hope you dig it.

And dig in.

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Gluten free muffins recipe with strawberries and rhubarb with a crumble topping
Strawberry rhubarb muffins with streusel- gluten-free and vegan.

Strawberry Rhubarb Love


Can't get enough of the classic spring pairing of strawberries and rhubarb? Me neither. So I baked a batch of muffins, dressed up to party with cinnamon streusel topping. These easy to toss together treats are tender pull-apart bites of grainy buckwheat sweetness studded with bits of tart rhubarb. A recipe perfect for brunch or afternoon tea.


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Karina's Gluten-Free Blueberry Crumble-Crisp Recipe with Quinoa Flakes
Kick-off your gluten-free summer with a blueberry crumble-crisp.


Blueberry Love


Summer is not officially here until the eve of June 20th- the longest day of the calendar year. But why wait to share one of my quintessential Midsummer recipes? The kindest season is far too brief. As the Bard of Avon once penned, summer's lease hath all too short a date.

So who am I to hold back and play hard-to-get, to deny you even one day of partaking in this (rather modest) indulgence?

I believe in the here and now more than the promise of ever-after.

Not that ever-after does not hold its enduring charms. The swath we name eternity is threaded through and through with everyday blinks as brief as a silk worm's life. Which, as it turns out, is perilously close to a single, fleeting summer.

In my view, if I am honest with myself and paying attention, eternity can be found inside a June. Within a child's hand clasp. Echoed in a tea cup. All that I long for, wish for, dream of, has already happened, this I know.

In some far off starlit part of me that remains forever untouchable and true, eternity is happening now, and breathes within the tiny beating bud of even my fears and pain. It knows no boundaries, or Gregorian demarcation. It is patient. And full of music.

I see it flicker in my sons' eyes.

This gift of time.

And the moment I spot it, it is already gone, light years away, clean and immaculate.


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Gorgeous gluten-free quinoa with grilled vegetables- perfect summer fare.
The jewels of summer- grilled vegetables- make a gorgeous quinoa salad.


Everyone loves a good old fashioned barbecue. The easy conviviality of a family backyard picnic. The smoky summer scent of charred goodies grilling. Lemonade chilling. Badminton birdies sailing. The crack of croquet balls. The last pink of June daylight. Punching lids on firefly jars. It's the stuff of a midsummer night's dream.

But if you need to be on a gluten-free diet- or if you happen to be vegan- or allergic to wheat- barbecues can be a tad less than convivial. Those mysterious grilling sauces and marinades (so often containing wheat-laced soy sauce). Those gluten-rich fluffy hot dog buns. All those meaty manly burgers and boiled egg dotted salads.

What's a gluten-free vegan to do?

Munch on lettuce?

Don't worry, Babycakes. I've got your back.

How about a light and summery quinoa salad with grilled corn, fresh parsley, lemon, and chopped mint topped with smoky grilled veggies- velvety red onion, sliced zucchini, charred bell peppers, portobello mushrooms, tender-crisp asparagus and butter soft eggplant?

A veritable vegan feast.

Gluten-free.

Fabulous.

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Gluten-Free Goddess Zucchini Quinoa Breakfast Cake
Karina's Gluten-Free Zucchini Quinoa Breakfast Cake

Packing. Let's Eat Cake.


From the L.A. archives- a personal favorite you may have missed... Remember those maple sweetened almond zucchini mini-muffins? I do. They've become one of our favorite grab-and-go gluten-free treats. I tuck a bag of them- fresh out of the freezer- into my bulging purse knapsack beach bag tote whenever we venture far afield. Like. The Valley. Because, well. You never know. It can get crazy. In L.A. you might end up jammed on the 405. Stuck as in four lanes = a parking lot stuck. Stuck as in, Dude that's my hunger growling louder than Kurt Cobain's rasp on the rattling radio speaker pleading, What else could I be? All apologies.

I know this from experience. I learned the hard way (the way I learn most things in life). Driving in L.A. can lead to stop-n-go squatting in the baking sun. And a where is my nail file and why did I leave the apartment without food and water and ice in a cooler panic. Because the thirty-three minutes it took yesterday to get to Studio City is seventy-five minutes today.

That's when I started imagining a zucchini cake.

For breakfast.

On the 405.

Heading north (allegedly). To sign a lease. On a new apartment with an ample well planned kitchen and an open living room with a fireplace. And two balconies- one sunny for growing herbs, one shady in the afternoon, facing a quiet leafy green street lined with lavender gardens and rose bushes and honeysuckle and song birds.

We'll be moving in two weeks.

Your intrepid Gluten-Free Goddess has some packing to do.

Good thing we baked a zucchini quinoa cake.


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Gluten-Free Raspberry Coconut-Almond Bars
Gluten-free almond raspberry bars with coconut are sweet temptation.

Let's Party

Let's be honest. I am here today to tempt you. To coax you. To seduce you with a (gluten-free vegan!) dessert worthy of every single luscious calorie. In full transparency, I am admitting up front these are not fat-free. Or sugar-free. These aren't diet food. They're not proper for breakfast (unless you serve them with Champagne).

And you won't be able to sigh ever-so-wistfully at parties and mention, off hand, how hard it is to eat gluten-free at family gatherings and parties. Because, Darling Reader, you'll score zero sympathy points once people sink their teeth into the luscious raspberry jam filling nestled between buttery toasted coconut-almond crunch topping and tender hazelnut cookie crust. Nope.

In fact, these decadent raspberry coconut-almond bars should come with a warning:  


{Be careful who you share these with.
Because they are sure to fall madly in love with you.}


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Easy and beautiful grilled vegetables for gluten-free pasta salad.
Easy, easy! Grilled veggies for gluten-free pasta salad.

Despite the rain and chill (here in northwest Connecticut) the summer kick-off weekend is here Darling. Let the picnics and grilling begin. June is nigh. 'Tis the season for dining alfresco. From a casual backyard family get-together to post-graduation parties, it's time to celebrate. And time for a little romance- a picnic in the park, a sunset dinner at the beach, feeding each other beneath the stars.

So air out those picnic blankets, blow the winter dust off your beach chairs and wire brush that grill. I've got some fabulous Gluten-Free Goddess® recipes for you. My best top ten eleven gluten-free dairy-free picnic recipes, in fact (and nine of them just so happen to be vegan).

May you enjoy a meaningful Memorial Day, defined by love, gratitude, and the support of family and friends.


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Gluten-Free Blueberry Scones
Tender gluten-free dairy-free scones baked with whole grains.

Mother's Day Blues


Blueberries and Mother's Day. I cannot imagine one without the other. It is virtually impossible. Beyond my control. The same way a certain scent, caught unexpectedly in passing, can- in a single heartbeat- transport you to another time and place.

Scents and tastes and memories link and embed themselves deep in the mushy hardware of our brain, micro-threading bits of life experience into electrical impulses that spark and conjure images and emotions that rival the blinking hot concept of time travel. Sun warmed wild mint, for instance, jolts me into my six year old body faster than you can wish for blueberry pancakes, tugging me into a swirl of loneliness and boredom I can almost taste, the heat and dust of a summer afternoon prowling a parking lot, looking for a tiny piece of shade apart from the bees.

In a perfect world I would have been blueberry picking, roused from innocent rumpled sleep before first light by a beloved grandmother or a tender hearted aunt, and given a small metal pail to fill, tasting every other silvery blue berry I picked, listening to my steady companion hum Dylan's Chimes of Freedom.
But I have no blueberry stories of childhood.

My picking days came later. As a young mother bending and reaching under a cobalt Cape Cod sky, plucking berries into buckets. Back then summer was forever woven with the fate of blueberries. Scattered on clean white scoops of yogurt in an antique bowl, baked into tender blueberry breads drizzled with lemon glaze (the cherished, hand written recipe given to me by an old friend, Cape Cod Kitty- it was her mother's famous blueberry cake), or bursting out of muffin tops glittering with sugar, and scented with cinnamon.

But the truth is I cannot rewrite my childhood. Nor change what is beyond my control to change. And I do not believe in destiny. I am not a fatalist. I do not believe in a master plan. I wrestle with mystery and meaning every single day, with nary a satisfactory answer in sight. It seems to me that nothing happens for a reason. And everything happens for a reason.

Because life is for learning.

And each day breaks with a fresh beginning.

So darling. What will you choose today?

Make it good.

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About celiac disease -  facts, realities and hope
May is celiac disease awareness month.

Living Without Our Daily Bread

by Karina Allrich


Since the birth of agriculture- when our ancestors began to cultivate and harvest grains- human beings have cherished bread. It was a minor miracle, this almost magical transformation of grain into dough. Bread became the staff of life, a daily source of nourishment, symbolic of spiritual renewal.

But what if bread was suddenly poison? What if wheat was toxic, and every bite of a toasted bagel, slice of pizza or forkful of penne inflicted damage to your body?

This scenario is a daily reality for those carrying the gene of an autoimmune disorder known as celiac disease.

Little did I know as I wrote my second cookbook, happily creating recipes for lemon infused pasta primavera and olive-rosemary focaccia, that a hidden twist in my own eclectic heritage would soon disrupt my life. After years of subtle symptoms, an acute phase produced a twenty pound weight loss, joint pain, skin rash, and malabsorption. By December, 2001, I knew I had celiac disease.

According to the Mayo Clinic, celiac disease (also known as celiac sprue or gluten sensitive enteropathy) is on the rise, and more common than previously believed, affecting 1 in 100 Americans.

Triggered by the protein gliadin found in wheat, barley and rye, celiac disease causes the body to attack the villi, those hairy little nutrient grabbers that line the small intestine. Eventually, those intolerant to gluten become malnourished, unable to digest foods and absorb nourishment.

And new evidence suggests that an even broader spectrum of gluten intolerance- dubbed non-celiac gluten sensitivity- may affect an ever widening swath of the U.S. population. Those wrestling with weight gain, pre-diabetes, allergies, and thyroid issues might do well to ask a medical professional about the deepening evidence of gluten sensitivity.

Once known as ‘wasting disease’ or ‘failure to thrive’ in infants and children, adult onset celiac is frequently misdiagnosed, most often mistaken for lactose intolerance, irritable bowel syndrome (IBS), anorexia, and colitis. Unexplained anemia, osteoporosis, blistery skin rashes, migraines, neuropathy, or vitamin B deficiencies are often the tip-off to this disease known as The Great Masquerader. Left to its own destructive bent, undiagnosed celiac disease can lead to severe nutritional deficiencies, brain lesions, ataxia, and non-Hodgkins lymphoma. Prolonged exposure to gluten may also trigger additional autoimmune diseases (AI’s like company).

The cure? A gluten-free diet for life.

That’s the good news.


cherries by karina allrich






As soon as gluten is removed from the diet, the body begins to heal. In children, this healing process can be dramatic, often within six months. In adults, the healing takes time. According to the Celiac Sprue Association, celiacs may require up to a year to heal, sometimes two, depending on the severity of the damage.

BECOMING GLUTEN-FREE


After the initial shock and adjustment to the daily reality of gluten-free living, the celiac’s ongoing challenge lies in searching hidden gluten in ingredients and recognizing its myriad sources. English muffins and frosted donuts are obvious no-no’s. But gluten may hide in such unlikely places as soy sauce, veggie burgers and herbal tea. It is a common additive in broth, bouillon, spice blends and prepared soups. It may also lurk in vitamins, medications and wheat germ laden lip balm.

Those of us with celiac disease must become vigilant, reading every label like a true detective.

Kitchens must be scoured for sticky gluten residue lingering on cutting boards and non-stick cookware. Toasters full of crumbs and old wooden spoons can become a source of gluten contamination. Old baking sheets and sponges can hide invisible gluten.

Sharing butter or grape jelly with greasy crumbs from your teenager’s toasted bagel is suddenly scary (we kept two jars of Vegenaise, jam, almond butter, etc in our refrigerator- mine sported Mom’s GF on the lids). When we kept a mixed kitchen, we had a designated gluten cupboard for non-GF breakfast cereals, snacks and sandwich bread. The rest of the pantry was labeled The Gluten-Free Zone.

It took a good 12 weeks for me to truly eradicate every trace of gluten from my diet. Overcoming each setback from unintended exposure took all the determination I could muster. How much gluten is safe for a celiac? Zero was the answer given by the Celiac Sprue Association of America back when I was first diagnosed. I continue to agree.

Even a speck of gluten the size of a crumb is enough to trigger the body’s immune system to attack itself. Which means eating out is very, very risky- a topic worthy of its own post.



WHEAT ALTERNATIVES


There is, indeed, life after rice cakes- the first food turned to by newly minted celiacs. Naturally gluten-free alternatives to wheat such as quinoa, polenta, rice, Thai rice noodles and Mexican white corn tortillas have become favorite staples in our pantry. Potatoes are thankfully gluten-free. Brown rice, corn and quinoa pastas offer nutritious alternatives to standard semolina spaghetti, cous cous and macaroni.

Local markets often carry a variety of gluten-free flours, from classic alternatives such as potato starch and brown rice flour to lovely new choices in baking such as almond flour, sorghum flour, coconut flour, teff and millet flour, and flaxseed meal.

Boxed GF mixes make gluten-free baking a breeze for the beginner, and are increasingly available in most grocery stores. Being the intuitive cook that I am, however, I ended up experimenting, sifting together my own mixtures of gluten-free flours (I prefer a more whole grain, flavorful blend than most commercial mixes offer; most GF mixes feature cheap white rice flour and starches, or occasionally, bean flour- which is difficult to digest).

Baking with gluten-free flours is an art that requires an open, 'beginner’s mind' and a sense of humor.

I made many a brick door stop back in the old days, and winged more than my share of inedible hockey pucks into the trash bin. Gluten-free flours do not behave in the same manner as wheat flour, and the old rules do not apply. For instance, gluten-free bread dough and pizza dough are not kneaded. Dough is simply beaten like muffin batter and scooped into a pan. I’m still not used to it.

As the champions say, however, practice, practice, practice.

I am happy to report that deliciousness does ensue. We celiacs do not suffer a bland life. Take a gander at my Dark Chocolate Brownies, Coconut Layer Cake, Gluten-Free Pizza Crust, Gluten-Free Whole Grain Olive Bread, and Quinoa Chocolate Chip Cookies, if you don’t believe me.


An earlier version of this article appeared in the Cape Cod Times Food Section, June 12, 2002. Author Karri Allrich retains the rights to this article ©2013. All rights reserved in all media.

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