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.


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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.


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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.


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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.


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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.


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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.


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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."


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5 Gluten-Free Potato Salad Recipes

Gluten-Free Vegan Potato Salad - Simplicity

Potato Salad Love

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 met.

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 Chocolate Chip 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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Gluten-Free Peach Cobbler

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

Quinoa flakes make a delicious gluten-free breakfast bar.

Blueberry Quinoa Bars

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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FODMAPs Friendly Recipes

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.

What is a FODMAP?

Short-chain carbohydrates such as fructose- certain fruits (apple, peaches, watermelon), agave, honey, high fructose corn syrup (aka evil HFCS)

Lactose- milk sugar

Fructans and inulin- wheat, onion, garlic, chicory, etc

Galactans- beans, lentils, legumes such as soy, etc

Polyols- alternative sweeteners sorbitol, mannitol, xylitol, maltitol, and stone fruits such as avocado, apricots, cherries, nectarines, peaches, plums, etc

Read more about FODMAPs and IBS here.

Get the Stanford Hospital Print-Out on FODMAPs here.

More on short-chain carbohydrates here.

(Find my FODMAP friendly recipes on the next page.)

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Gluten-Free Peach Crisp Recipe

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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Gluten-Free Cherry Almond Crisp

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 Recipe

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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Vegan Strawberry Chocolate Chip Sherbet

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 Strawberry Rhubarb Streusel Muffins

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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Gluten-Free Blueberry Crumble-Crisp Recipe

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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Grilled Veggie Quinoa Salad

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 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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Gluten-Free Picnic Recipes - Karina's Faves

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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Gluten-Free Banana Nut Bread Recipe

Warm from the oven gluten-free banana nut bread. Just a fad?

Gluten-Free Believer

As Celiac Awareness Month dawns I thought I might celebrate with a banana bread recipe. This is a banana bread so tasty, tender and fragrant, you won't care it is gluten-free. And you might even tempt the naysayers. And the unbelievers.

You know who I'm talking about.

Out there in the cold cruel world, Darling, some folks apparently (still) view our gluten-free lifestyle through a jaded foodie lens, believing, first of all, that gluten-free anything is never going to taste anything but awful, and second, that this whole gluten-free trend (their word not mine) is a fad not worthy of serious consideration and compassion. Apart from the standard (and always brief) lip service that non-afflicted food writers, non-GF bloggers and journalists pay to celiac disease, adhering to the medical treatment that is a gluten-free diet is degraded- for that sexy topical hook- to a "bandwagon". An eating disorder.

A diet by choice.

They dub it a controversy.

As my twelfth year of living gluten-free marches on, I find myself reflecting not upon the decade plus years living gluten-free, but upon the ten long years prior to shunning gluten- the decade it took me (no thanks to the medical profession) to determine that gluten was the culprit behind my early onset autoimmune cataracts, mysterious low ferritin levels, skin rashes, migraines, fat malabsorption and impressive marathon stints in the loo- I feel the slow, sad burn of anger those of us who are dismissed experience.

Two bloggers referenced the gluten-free diet on a social networking site recently, bragging about their "iron stomachs" and their ability to chow down on everything (this implies that those of us unable to ingest gluten merely have "sensitive" digestion). I was reminded of a previous post I wrote in response to a blogger's remark that gluten-free is "too precious".

Ignorance is bliss, indeed.

Here's the thing. It's not a sensitive vs iron stomach issue. It's not an I-can-eat-anything-so-bring-on-the-butter-and-bacon-and-haggis issue. It's not about macho appetite. Or virtue. Or squeamishness.

It's not philosophical.

It's not emotional.

It's not about preciousness.

Or garnering attention.

Or skinny jeans.

It's about a cruel quirk in genetics.

If you won the luck of the draw in the genetic lottery and escaped- by no effort of your own- inheriting HLA-DQ2 or HLA-DQ8, the two genetic haplotypes that predispose you to an autoimmune disease that triggers your body's defense system to attack itself, destroying the nutrient-grabbing lining of your small intestine, be humble. Be thankful. Your body works. You do not have to be vigilant about every crumb that goes into your mouth. In your world gluten does not increase your risk for Non-Hodgkin's lymphoma. A bagel is not dangerous. You can eat what you crave when you are hungry. You can wing it when you travel, feeling carefree and adventurous. You can sample new cuisine on a whim- without asking about the ingredients. Food for you is fun. Romantic. Perhaps, even a passion.

Thank your small intestine.

And while you're at it, thank your pancreas, too.

Because those with Type 1 diabetes (another genetic autoimmune disease, one that destroys the insulin-producing islet cells in the pancreas) must also be vigilant about their diet. Along with injecting insulin, Type 1 diabetics must also limit (if not shun) certain foods to protect their health, making careful, low glycemic choices day after day.

But maybe that's a fad, too. Maybe their pancreases are just sensitive. Maybe a diabetic child is merely craving attention, just like her celiac cousin. Maybe a mother learning how to cook a meal with low glucose is coddling her child, too. Maybe all autoimmune diseases are just a silly trend. 

The Fad Du Jour.

I hear celiacs and diabetics are wicked sexy.

Well, that part may be true.

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My Top Three Asparagus Recipes

Spring asparagus at the farmers' market

Asparagus. The Queen. 

Elegant, fresh- and addictive. For many of us, the primavera arrival of asparagus is big news. Huge. Exciting. We simply can't get enough. You see, there is something magical about asparagus. Maybe it's the sexy reputation. Isabelle Allende describes asparagus as phallic in her memoir, Aphrodite, describing gardens lush with it, and stalks thick as trees. She throws in a few maidens with obvious oral fixations and well. You can guess the rest.

To be honest, the whole thick as a tree trunk thing, though, is a bit much.

Big stalks? Not gonna impress me. I tend to gravitate to the slender young asparagus, myself. The slimmer the better, in my gluten-free part of the world. Why? I barely cook them. It's more like a coaxing. A gentle flash in the pan with some fruity olive oil and a kiss of balsamic vinegar. A pinch of sea salt. Nothing fancy. Keeping them tender-crisp is the key to maximum enjoyment-- for me. But I know some folks prefer long, slow roasting. 

And that's what makes the world go 'round, darling. 

We can all love asparagus in our own way. And you don't have to be a vegan or a vegetarian to fall madly in love with this divine little vegetable. I've witnessed many a devoted omnivore fall prey to its tender charms. In fact, asparagus brings people together who might otherwise deride and mock each other. Pork belly munchers and veg-heads alike can set aside their divisive passions  and unite in true asparagus bliss. In fact, unabashed asparagus love could be the key to world peace.

So today, to celebrate this humble vegetable in all its gluten-free vegan glory, I am sharing my three favorite asparagus recipes. Swoon worthy, all.

Asparagus with Maple Tahini Dressing and Sea Salt

This easy vegan recipe is a lovely appetizer or side dish. Serve warm stalks as finger food and use the dressing as dip. How sexy is that?

Asparagus Leek Risotto

Lucky for us, risotto is gluten-free. And you can serve it to company without apologies. It's elegant. It's creamy. Super good. Those Italian goddesses who cooked up the first batch of risotto knew a thing or two.

Sexy Spring Pasta with Roasted Asparagus

One of my favorite spring meals- beautiful quinoa linguine topped with roasted asparagus, mushrooms, and tomatoes. Sometimes I add leeks or red onion. Always garlic- and chopped basil and mint. Heavenly.

More asparagus recipes from food bloggers:

Andrea Meyers: Roasted Asparagus with Orange Ginger Glaze
Kalyn's Kitchen: Pan-Fried Asparagus Tips with Lemon Juice
Simply Recipes: Roasted Asparagus
Perfect Pantry: Risotto with Shrimp and Asparagus 
101 Cookbooks: Asparagus Salad
Go Dairy-Free: Asparagus Soup
Food Blogga: How to Select, Store and Cook with Asparagus
Daily Diatribe: Mediterranean Halibut + Asparagus
Foods for Long Life: Vegan and Gluten-Free Asparagus Shiitaki Mushroom Stir Fry

Gluten-Free Peanut Butter Cookies

Dunk worthy gluten-free peanut butter cookies with quinoa flakes.

Quinoa Flakes + Cookies = Perfect Match

You know how I feel about cookies (I've confessed my love before in my Ode to Cookies love fest, Gluten-Free Chocolate Chip Cookies).

Because a good cookie is no small thing.

Especially if you must live gluten-free. Double that if you must live dairy-free. And triple that if you live egg-free.

Holy Mother of Muffins, it ain't easy. 

The gluten-free wheat-free vegan lifestyle is a hefty, sometimes tortuous challenge. But the ugly truth is more and more of us are discovering we are not only blessed with celiac disease (yes, I use the word blessed ironically; you do remember irony, don't you, it got you through grade school) but we have the incredible fortune (more irony) to develop additional food sensitivities due to the insidious damage celiac disease wreaks on our innocent little villi, those dutiful nutrient grabbers who not only keep us well fed through proper absorption, they appear to be the first line of defense against the dreaded leaky gut syndrome that allows food proteins to invade intimate territory and cause serious mayhem with our immune system.

To read more about celiac disease and its new found dangers, I urge you to read this article by Dr. Mark Hyman on Huffington Post: Gluten: What You Don't Know Might Kill You. Yes, I know, serious bummer of a title, but Babycakes, do read it, because celiac disease is dead serious stuff. And it is vastly under diagnosed.

Millions are suffering various nagging (and often awkward) symptoms. Needlessly.

That, Dearheart, is scary.

Good thing we have cookies.

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