Mocha Chip Smoothie

This past Christmas, my coffee game got a serious upgrade.

Despite having a name that conjures up images of a "special move" (or a triceps exercise) this most ingenious device is actually the hands down, no holds barred, best way to brew a cup of coffee. It is, in other words, a French press.

Complicated looking (wire loops, plungers, shiny metal and glass abound) but extraordinarily straightforward in it's function, a French press only requires hot water, coffee, and time to operate. In fact, it takes no more time than a regular drip-style percolator. (Don't even get me started on those damn Keurig "K-cups". Ok, I'm started, they are a marketing gimmick! All they do is trick you into buying an expensive coffee maker and THEN trick you into buying expensive "coffee" from them...for the rest of your life!)

In simplest terms, you operate a French press by steeping the coffee grounds in hot water just like you would loose tea. Then, you "press" by pushing a wire filter through the liquid. The filter is precisely the same diameter as the accompanying glass pitcher, which insures that all the grounds are retained at the very bottom of the container. What you are left with is a pure ebony liquid that defies expectation.

My first taste of French pressed coffee was a revelation. This beverage that I thought so familiar and predictable, had transformed. This was not the same morning pick-me-up that needed cream (or coconut milk) in order to be palatable. It was black and smooth and rich and wonderful. Gone was the bitterness, the signature "Char-bucks" flavor, replaced instead with the smokey sweet essence of pure roasted coffee beans.

However, there was an unforeseen consequence to having the motivation, and the means, to make great coffee. I made too much, drank too much, and went into a caffeine induced mania of epic proportions.

Hesitant to repeat "The Great Caffeinating", I began a search for ways to utilize leftover coffee. The Mocha Chip Smoothie is the result of this search (and my search for the ultimate chocolate experience).

Ingredients:

1 cup brewed coffee (cold)
1 cup almond milk
1/2 banana (frozen)
1-2 medjool dates (pitted)
2-3 drops real vanilla extract
2 tsp cocoa powder
2 tbsp hazelnuts or walnuts
1 scoop 100% whey protein (plain or vanilla flavored)
5-6 ice cubes
1 tsp cacao nibs (for topping)

Directions:

Combine all ingredients (except cacao nibs) in a blender and mix until smooth.  Add more or less almond milk to reach desired consistency.  The amount of dates that you use can also be adjusted to increase or decrease the sugar content.

Top with cacao nibs and enjoy the buzz!


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Paleo "Cookie Dough"

As kid, making home-made chocolate chip cookies with mom was always a treat.

During the process it was inevitable that flour would puff and billow out, scenting the air with the dry aroma of wheat. Eggs would be cracked and their gloppy contents, along with velvety softened butter, potent vanilla extract, and grainy sugar crystals, would go into the mix. Chocolate chips would be also be added, although a few always met a premature end, and the disparate substances, initially resistant to the idea of combining, would ultimately yield to "elbow grease", or the tines of an electric mixer.

From their union, cookie dough would be born, and while the alchemical magic of turning liquid dough into solid cookies was intriguing, the real excitement was always reserved for the "cleanup". I'd be handed the mixing bowl and spoon and would quickly go to work on the sweet, raw, gooey goodness. Since eschewing wheat, however, I've given up making cookies, which severely hinders the possibility of enjoying a spoonful of childhood memories now and again.

So I did something about it. It's not perfect, and it is definitely not cookie dough, but it is close, and it hits some of the same buttons without copious amounts of raw egg, sugar, and wheat flour.

Ingredients:

1 tbsp cacao nibs (see "Cacao Cacao" for the backstory on these)
1 tbsp chopped walnuts
2 tbsp almond butter
1 tbsp coconut oil
1-2 drops real vanilla
Pinch sea salt
Pinch cinnamon

Directions:

In a small bowl, combine "wet" ingredients (coconut oil, almond butter, and vanilla).  Add "dry" ingredients next (nibs, walnuts, sea salt and cinnamon) and mix well.

Eat with a spoon (or off of a mixer attachment if feeling particularly nostalgic.)

Cacao! Cacao!

"What is chocolate, really?"

"Do bars grow on trees?"

"Is there more to chocolate than meets the palate?"

Facing such existential questions, I decided to embark upon a quest to find the ultimate chocolate experience.

Carried atop the whirling gyres of my tubular steel steed, I wound through city streets filled with strip-malls, fast food restaurants, and belligerent automobile drivers. Sparse weeds grew determinedly through cracked concrete yet my conviction and my parched mouth pined. In midst of this dietary wasteland there seemed to be no hope for salivation, no redemption for my chocolate cravings.

Desperately, my eyes scanned the horizon, searching for a sign.  That was when I saw it.  Thinking it must be a mirage, I blinked and rubbed my eyes.  Expecting the telltale shimmer of heat to reveal that it had all been a lie. I looked again, hoping that my cacao-deprived brain would aim true.

But it was still there and as I drew ever closer the image became clearer. In the hinterlands between me and my destination marched a great menagerie of hipsters, cougars, and vegans. The vast congregation making their way to pay homage at the gates of yon oasis.

A paper bag hopped and skittered towards me and as it cartwheeled past my feet, I could see the telltale "recycle" symbol and the words "Whole Foods" printed upon it.

Of course! Whole Foods!  The bourgeois bastion of healthy comestibles was my destiny from the start. Where else would I find the culinary equivalent of dreadlocks and nag champa in the heart of Urbana?

A cool blast of air raised my hackles as hot flesh instantly ran cold. A cursory check of the candy aisle confirmed my suspicions that nothing novel would be found there.  Chocolate bars full of goji berries and other "superfoods" was not what I sought.  Continuing to circle the perimeter of the store, I came upon the gourmet foods; the stinky cheeses, the wines, and charcuterie.  Again, it was the usual suspects.  Blocks of Belgian chocolate, drops of fondue-ready morsels, but nothing for my heart's longing.

Yet again I found myself plunged into chocolate-free abyss, curled up under a self-serve cart of olives and rolled grape leaves, I surrendered to the despair.  But from the darkness came a light.  A dove, or at least what my delirious mind contrived to be a dove, rose up and spoke to me.  It told me to continue my journey, that I woulf find the chocolatey grail if I only went to the center.

The center?  The center of my soul?  My being?  The molten core of the earth itself?  "No stupid," the ephemeral dove said in a language that surely spoke without words, "The center of the store!"

Crawling past carts, dodging swinging, and reusable, shopping bags, I plunged into the inner sanctum with newfound vigor.  Pushing past Ja-Chad, and ignoring his derisory affect, I checked each aisle with a fevered intensity.  And then, I was there.

At the epicenter of the baked goods aisle, it stood haloed in an supernatural light.  A single word, "Theo", was scrawled into its surface.  I recognized it immediately as a reference to the true name of chocolate, theobroma cacao.

I quickly grabbed my bounty, thrust a wad of crumpled bills towards the nearest bespectacled cashier as a sacrifice to the corporatocracy and emerged, like a Fury, onto the crumbling city streets.

The journey home was a blur, in the crazed heat of activity, it was over in moments.  Fumbling with my keys I stumbled inside and found myself safely nestled in my kitchen.  I next turned to the canister of brown gold.

Prying it open, I was immediately struck by the heady perfume of chocolate.  Upending the container into my waiting maw, I took the jagged contents into my mouth and began masticating them with relish.  Resistant at first, the nibs quickly yielded with a satisfying crunch.

My eyes closed tightly, entranced by the symphony of flavors.  Smoky charcoal quickly gave way to sweet coffee and bitter hops.  The experience lingered for a few more seconds and then faded into a satisfied buzz.

I had found it, this was my manna and it was good.

Caveman Cuisine: Spicy Tuna Breakfast Patty

It's been a long week. You've been hooked up to the work-eat-sleep hamster wheel for days. The cupboard has officially run dry.

But wait, what is this?  Behind the stack of soup that you are saving till the apocalypse is a can of tuna!  Scouring the fridge yields a couple eggs, and, while technically "spoiled milk", there is even a dollop of sour cream and some shreds of cheese that seem game.

The fresh veggies, however, have left the building.  So what about something green?  You head out to the back yard to think about your predicament.  From the corner of your eye you notice a familiar sight.  A single puffball atop a long slender stem.  The lowly dandelion to most, but nutritious roughage to your vegetation deprived eyes.

In another neglected corner of your yard, a small orange orb stands out in stark contrast to the dry weeds.  The last two habaneros of summer have managed to hang on until this moment.  Plucked from their stems with a satisfying pop, they join the dandelion greens as you head back to the kitchen.

While this situation might seem oddly specific for a recipe, this is EXACTLY what happened to me just a few days ago, the result being the Spicy Tuna Breakfast Patty.

Ingredients:

1 can tuna fish (Drained, I used chunk light but just use whatever works for you)
2 eggs
2 tbsp shredded cheddar cheese
1 tbsp sour cream
2 habanero peppers (or just one finely minced if you don't need the extra for decoration)
1-2 cups fresh dandelion leaves (washed and dried)
2 tsp ghee (or coconut oil or tallow or any other good fat)
Fresh ground black pepper

Directions:

In a small bowl, combine tuna, eggs, black pepper, minced habanero and cheese.  Once you finish this, bring a small frying pan up to medium heat.  Add fat and, once it melts, add dandelion greens.  When the greens have wilted (about 1-2 minutes) add the tuna-egg mixture to the pan. Turn the heat down to medium-low and cover.

After about 5 minutes or so, the eggs should have completely set (if not, you can simply let them cook a little while longer as I recommend against turning up the heat).  Use a spatula to scrape across the sides and bottom of the pan, ensuring that the entire contents are free.

To serve, flip the Spicy Tuna Breakfast Patty over (this will reveal the nice caramelized greens on the bottom) and top with sour cream.

Serves Uno

Caveman Cuisine: Spicy Pig and Plantain Soup

Making soup seems simple enough. Toss some leftover meat and vegetables in a pot and boil right? Well...there is soup and there is OMFGTIDG (Oh My F'king God This Is Damn Good) soup. The trick to making the later, rather than the former, is to follow the oft repeated and equally oft ignored advice to "layer flavors".

Layering flavors doesn't mean adding a lot of different flavors or over-seasoning. (This generally resulting in a dish that tastes confused or like just took a bath in the dead sea.) It does mean, however, coaxing every bit of goodness out of the flavors you do use, bringing them, soaring, to the ecstatic heights of gastronomic nirvana.

Returning to our discussion of soup, the way that we would go about layering flavors for this particular type of dish is to start with either a mirepoix, włoszczyzna, or a sofrito (depending on whether your predilection is for French, Polish, or Spanish cuisine respectively). Regardless of what you call it, it is essentially a combination of finely minced aromatic vegetables (onions, garlic, shallot, celery, carrot, etc) slowly sauteed in either butter or olive oil. The combination of heat and fat releases, softens, and massages the flavors of the aromatics.

Next, we are most definitely NOT going to use water (or more accurately, just water) to form the base of our soup.  For a lip-smacking, full bodied bite, we need broth, and not just any broth.  For our second layer of flavor we want lots of gooey, gelatinous connective tissue to go into our solution.  The best way to do this is to boil up some pig, cow, or chicken feet, but you can also recycle the cooking liquid from recipes such a pork shoulder submerged in coconut water and slow cooked for eight hours.  This was what I did and you could have stood a spoon in the stuff.

The last stop on the flavor train is as essential as it is obvious.  Taste as you go.  Why wait till you serve your food to find out that it needed some pepper, a touch of salt, or some other essential seasoning?  Good cooks don't like surprises and you want to know that your dish is just right before it hits the plate.  A little spoonful from time to time is all you need to inform your taste-buds and save you, and your guests, from bland food.

In making this particular recipe, I employed all of the above techniques and the result was OMFGTIDG.  I encourage you do do the same.

Ingredients:

Leftover pork and roasted plantains from the "Pulled Pig and Mashed Plantains" recipe
~3 cups of broth from an Epic Pig
1 tbsp each of coconut and red palm oil
Sofrito (diced carrot, onion, celery, and garlic)
~3 cups pure water
Sea salt and fresh ground pepper
1/2 avocado (diced for topping)
Hot sauce (optional but not really)

Directions:

In a large pot, melt coconut and palm oil over medium-low heat.  Add your sofrito, stirring frequently while it cooks.  When the aromatics have cooked down and are nice and soft, add your broth, water, plantains and meat.

Bring the soup up to a boil and skim off any foam (failing to do this may result in an "off" taste for some complex scientific reason).

Reduce the heat to a simmer, and allow the soup to cook partially covered ~30 minute.

Season to taste and serve with sliced avocado and hot sauce on top (I'm particularly fond of sauces made from scotch bonnets but Cholula or Sriracha would pass muster as well.)

Caveman Cuisine: Veni-Naghetti

I have always found making a "semi-homemade" spaghetti sauce from canned crushed tomatoes, tomato paste, and fresh herbs to be an easy and delicious way to get my pasta sauce fix.  I suppose it should really be called "squash sauce", but I digress.  Recently, however, I have begun to wonder if, in addition to "easy and delicious", this is also less healthful that some pre-made options.

While I despise the fact that most ready made pasta sauces contain a large amount of added sugar (sometimes as much as 15gms of high fructose corn syrup per serving, speaking of which, Newman's Own and Emeril should be ashamed), industrial seed oils (like canola and soy oil), and so-called "natural" flavors, making your own from canned tomatoes might be just as bad of an idea.

In a Prevention.com article titled "7 Foods That Should Never Cross Your Lips", Univeristy of Missouri endocrinologist Fredrick Vom Saal, made the following comment:

"You can get 50 mcg of BPA per liter out of a tomato can, and that's a level that is going to impact people, particularly the young...I won't go near canned tomatoes."

Here I thought I was being healthful with my food choices and yet I was inadvertently exposing myself to high levels of a toxic chemical that has been strongly linked to "developmental problems as well as a variety of adult health concerns, including erectile dysfunction, breast cancer, heart disease, and diabetes"?!

Feeling the PR heat, companies like General Mills (producer of "Muir Glen" organic tomato products) have resolved to eliminate BPA from their cans, but another option, and one I am personally in favor of, is to avoid canned foods entirely (barring a zombie apocalypse or some other such end-of-days scenario of course).

Lacking any fresh tomatoes, I went with a quality jarred option that was free of HFCS and other such nasty ingredients for this venison "naghetti" ("not spaghetti") recipe.  The result was an easy, delicious, AND healthful meal!

Ingredients:

1/2 jar quality tomato sauce (glass jar, no HFCS, industrial oil, etc.)
1lb ground venison (grass-fed beef would work as well)
2 tbsp Parmesan or Romano cheese (freshly grated)
1 medium spaghetti squash (halved with seeds removed).
Butter or some other animal fat (for the roasting the spaghetti squash)
"Italian Seasoning" (dried oregano, basil, and parsley)
Sea salt and fresh ground black pepper

Directions:

Begin by roasting the spaghetti squash (directions here).  While the spaghetti squash roasts, bring a saucepan up to medium heat and add venison.  When the meat is cooked through, add the tomato sauce (you can add more than 1/2 a jar, but I like my sauce X-tra meaty) and heat through.  Season with salt and pepper to taste, adding additional Italian seasoning if necessary.

When the squash is ready, remove the flesh with a fork and plate.  Top with meat sauce and freshly grated cheese.

Serves 2-3

Caveman Cuisine: Pulled Pig over Mashed Plantains

Plantains, or "green bananas" are a staple food in many parts of the world but in much of the United States, they are a culinary enigma. When green (unripe) plantains are starchy and possessing of a neutral flavor reminiscent of a potato. When yellow (ripe) and black (very ripe!) they are sweet and can be eaten raw like a regular banana.

Bananas and plantains are in fact the same species, but just different varieties bred for different purposes. Bananas are almost always eaten ripe and raw, while plantains are typically cooked (fried, baked, grilled, roasted, or boiled) while still unripe. Like bananas, however, plantains are a good source of potassium and other micronutrients.

Luckily for me, I live in an area where plantains are readily and cheaply available. At any of the many Hispanic or Asian grocers around town, I can pick up enough for several meals for about $1.00.   If I want to save a trip to the store, there is always the option of embarking upon a little urban foraging.

Ultimately, the inspiration for this dish was the result of watching the documentary film Pururambo.  In it, the film makers sought to explore the depths of Papua New Guinea and to visit isolated tribes who had never before been in contact with Europeans.  Watching the film, I was interested in gleaning some insight into the diet of these hunter gatherers and was happy to see foods that I recognized.

The indigenous peoples raised pigs, and would occasionally slaughter one to supplement their regular diet of rhinoceros beetle grubs, birds, and lizards.  Another staple food was, yup, green bananas, roasted over a fire.

Thus, Pulled Pig over Mashed Plantains was born.

Ingredients:

4-5 plantains (slit lengthwise)
3-4lb pork shoulder
Dry rub (equal parts sea salt, black pepper, paprika, and a few pinches of garlic and onion powders)
1 can (~16oz) coconut water
Optional: Coconut oil or Red Palm Oil

Directions:

Start the pulled pig the day before by rubbing it with generously with dry rub, covering, and refrigerating overnight.

The next day, put the pork shoulder into a crock pot or slow-cooker and add the coconut water.  Set the heat to low and allow the pork to cook all day (~8hrs).  About an hour before the pork is ready, preheat your oven to 350 degrees.  Place the plantains on a baking sheet (I like to cover mine with foil to make cleanup easier) and bake for 60min.  When the plantains are done, they should have the consistency of a firm baked potato.

Remove the peels and cut the plantains into 1-2" chunks.  Using a potato masher or a large spoon, mash the plantains, adding a coconut oil or red palm oil if desired.

To serve, pile some mashed plantains on a dish and spoon some of the cooking liquid over them.  Add a generous heap of pulled pork and dig in.

Feasts 4