Easy Chicken Chili with Sweet Potato + Lime

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.


READ MORE and get the recipe ...

Gluten-Free Cranberry Bread Recipe

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.


READ MORE and get the recipe ...

Gluten-Free Vegetarian Thanksgiving Recipes

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.


READ MORE and get the recipe ...

Quinoa Salad with Pears, 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.


READ MORE and get the recipe ...

Best 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.


READ MORE and get the recipe ...

Gluten-Free Pumpkin Pancakes

Pumpkin pancakes with apricot jam and pepitas.

Pumpkin Pancakes, Yes.

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.


READ MORE and get the recipe ...

Best Gluten-Free Apple Cake Muffins

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."


READ MORE and get the recipe ...