Gluten-Free Pecan Crackers Recipe

How to make your own gluten-free crackers- with pecan meal.

Crunchy, nutty, salty crackers. 


I have a confession to make. It begins with crackers. Crunchy, nutty, salty crackers. And the doom of shortening days. The curse of narrow daylight. The long slow creep of SAD and carb cravings has begun. The Fall Equinox is right around the corner. After-dinner walks will soon be pre-dinner walks. The wind that weaves through the cottonwoods down by the Chama riverbed will have a chilly edge to it that hints of winter skies and stirs the urge for goin'. I get that every year. The urge. The longing to clear out, let go and move on.

I feel the gypsy spirit in my bones--- screws and all.

And if I am stuck, as I now am stuck, back in this ancient rural desert where I feel--- screws and all- I don't belong, this urge goes underground. This urge- and it is a she- attempts a guise of humming patience and a veil of vague distraction knowing all the while that this ruse of hers is thin and she will soon be gnawing away at my futile attempts to remain buoyant and calm and satisfied with crudities and lettuce wraps. I will be rifling the cupboard for crackers and tortilla chips and baking starchy potatoes to smother with roasted vegetables and rustling up plates of steaming spaghetti and meatballs.

All to satiate The Need. The carb need. The Fix.

The serotonin impostor.

For those of you blessed with a friendly chemistry, those of you already anticipating the fall and winter holidays with their frosty allure of goodies and gaity, the ice skating and skiing, and the boisterous camaraderie of football- I salute you.

As for me?

I am preoccupied with conjuring lower carb crackers. And tossing up prayers to the wise and (one can only hope) merciful Real Estate Goddess. Maybe she'll take pity on me. If the house does not sell by November, we'll invent Plan B.

Gluten-free pecan crackers.

Gluten-Free Pecan Cracker Recipe

By Karina Allrich

These crackers taste a bit like rye crackers, due to the caraway and cocoa powder. If you're not a fan of rye bread or rye crackers, leave out the caraway.

Whisk together the dry ingredients:

1/2 cup millet flour or sorghum flour, more as needed*
1/4 cup potato starch (not potato flour!)
1/2 cup GF buckwheat flour
1/4 cup nutritional yeast
2 teaspoons organic cocoa powder
1 teaspoon sea salt
1 teaspoon dried minced onion
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 to 1 teaspoon caraway, to taste
1 teaspoon dried thyme or dried crushed rosemary

Stir in:

1 1/2 cups pecan meal
Ener-G Egg Replacer for 1 egg mixed with warm water
1/4 cup good olive oil
1/2 cup warm water or non-dairy milk, to start
1 teaspoon raw organic agave or brown sugar

Stir the ingredients until a stiff dough forms- you'll need to press the dough out into a thin layer, so if it appears too dry, or it falls apart, add a tablespoon of warm water at a time until the dough is malleable but not too sticky. My dough used almost 2/3 cup liquid- but this will vary according to flours and humidity.

Note*

The second time I made these crackers I needed three extra tablespoons of millet flour to get the dough sturdy and glossy. As always- dough and batters vary slightly with humidity.

Instructions:

When dough is mixed, divide in half.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Line two baking sheets with parchment or a reusable Exopat.

Using oiled hands flatten and spread half the dough on the prepared baking sheet. Make as thin a layer as possible. Use the edge of a rubber spatula to straighten outside edges, if you like. The thinner the cracker is, the crisper it will be.

Prick the dough with a fork- or not- it's your choice.

Score the flattened dough into cracker sized pieces. I used a pizza cutter to do this.

To bake:

Sprinkle with sea salt or kosher salt, if desired.

Bake in the center of a preheated oven for 15 to 20 minutes till firm and slightly crisp (they will crisp up more as they cool). I use an Exopat, so the crackers baked a little longer- and were done at 24 minutes. Keep an eye on them.

Remove and allow the crackers to cool on a rack.

Store in an air-tight container. Or freeze. If they soften from humidity, reheat them on a baking sheet for a few minutes before serving.

Makes 36 crackers.

Recipe Source: glutenfreegoddess.blogspot.com

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For substitutions, please see my guide to baking with substitutions here.

Gluten-Free Turkey Meatloaf with Pecan Crust

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A Turn Toward the New

The morning was cool and bright. It was going to be one of those quintessential Cape Cod autumn days. A day tourists swoon over. Worthy of a post card with The weather is sublime- wish you were here scrawled in black gel cursive between sips of a Hot Chocolate Sparrow latte. The sky was a cake bowl of cobalt blue with that particular pink edge to it that only painters notice, the blush that softened the tree line at the north end of the West Barnstable marsh gentling the heavy greens of the pines and oaks into a bluish, almost violet gray.

She brushed her teeth with fennel toothpaste and spit into the low slung sink, pausing to breathe. A long inhale to slow her heart. The cottage was pin drop quiet. The boys had climbed the rubber lined steps into the school bus hours ago, peanut butter and honey sandwiches bagged, milk money in their pockets. She had waved from the street and watched them navigate the bus aisle in shadow, avoiding her maternal gaze, not turning to wave back. Too risky, she understood.

The walk back up the curve of road to the rental she had found last spring felt different this morning. Not because of the air and its September clarity that sharpened the asters and the Queen Anne's Lace with impossible precision- though she felt a kinship with the acute focus the turning of the seasons always brings. That sense of realignment, a perennial return to purpose. Ironically, she always felt as if fall was the season of new beginnings. Not spring.

Fall was the season she woke up, as if from a dream.

Today was the first day of a plein air painting workshop. A post-divorce return to premarital roots, when she painted for the love of it- not the pragmatic bill-paying need of it. Painting for an income (however necessary it may be) is dangerous business. Courting the marketplace changes your work. A self consciousness slithers in and infiltrates your choices. The observer becomes observed. Judged. Rewarded for meeting expectations.

She had always been more than willing to please. To notice the cues and needs of others. It was more than habit. It was ingrained in her bones. She had an uncanny knack for it. And she hated it about herself. She hated her automatic willingness to anticipate and acquiesce. Sometimes she would hear her own words hang in the air and for a quantum, split second wonder who had just spoken. There were entire days lost to living outside herself, hovering above her left shoulder, just beyond reach.

Stepping into the tiny sunlit kitchen she stood still for a moment, tempted by the cluttered breakfast table. The sticky bowls and spoons. The allure of distraction. The comfort of routine. But it didn't take. She snatched her car keys off a hook and grabbed a canvas bag of painting gear by the door, turned the knob with her free hand and opened it wide. Three minutes later she made a right at the empty bus stop, and accelerated east down Old King's Highway.

To be continued...


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