Photo taken from our kitchen! (What can I say, we're food people, not camera people. . . )
This holiday recipe is a little variation on the traditional pumpkin pie. For one, it’s made with sweet potatoes (well, officially they’re yams but many stores mistakenly label them as sweet potatoes and most of us think of them as such). For another, we’ve made this with a nut crust, rather than your typical pie crust. This solves the gluten problem and also makes the recipe a synch to make. It’s also got far less sugar than your average pie, and we’ve used maple syrup as our sweetener.
Give it a try and let us know what you think!
Ingredients
- 2 cups raw almonds (even better, soak and dehydrate them first)
- 2 cups raw pecans (again, even better: soak and dehydrate them first)
- 1 tablespoon plus ½ teaspoon butter
- 3 dates, pitted
- 1 ½ teaspoon vanilla extract
- 3 cups pre-cooked and peeled sweet potatoes/yams (we bake them in an oven at 375° for 30-35 minutes – this is something you can do a few days before while you’re making another meal that uses the oven)
- 1 egg
- 3 tablespoons grade B or C maple syrup
- 2 teaspoons cinnamon
- ¼ teaspoon allspice
- ¼ teaspoon nutmeg
- 1/8 teaspoon sea salt
Directions
1. Preheat oven to 350°
Nut Pie Crust
2. Combine almonds, pecans, 1 tablespoon of the butter, dates, and ½ teaspoon vanilla extract in the food processor. Pulse several times until well combined.
3. Rub remaining ½ teaspoon of butter onto the pie pan to grease well. Spoon the dough into the pie pan (it will be crumbly – this is very different from working with your normal pie dough) and press into the bottom and sides of the pan using your hands. Cover the pan evenly with dough, keeping the thickness as even as possible. Wetting your fingers makes this much easier.
4. Combine the sweet potato, egg, maple syrup, remaining vanilla, cinnamon, allspice, nutmeg and sea salt into the food processor. Pulse until well blended. You may need to pause and scrape down the sides occasionally.
5. When nicely blended, spoon the sweet potato mixture into the pie crust, smoothing out the top with a spatula. Bake in the oven at 350° for 30 minutes. Remove from oven and let cool. Refrigerate until ready to serve.
It’s absolutely delicious served with some real whipped cream made from raw cream.
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Written by Margaret Floyd on 22/11/11 am30 08:00 AM
Last week I wrote about my switch from vegetarianism to finding peace with being an omnivore, a process that was slow and difficult on me emotionally. Last year I was turned on to a mind-expanding booked called The Vegetarian Myth, which is an excellent read for anyone who eats – whether you’re a vegetarian, an omnivore, or any shade in between. My colleague Debra Meadow wrote a great review of this book, excerpts from which we’ve included here to give you a taste of what it’s all about. Enjoy! ~Margaret
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I just finished reading The Vegetarian Myth, by Lierre Keith (Flashpoint Press, 2009) and I can tell you it was not an easy book to read, forcing me to face some pretty grim facts about the direction civilization has been traveling since the dawn of agriculture, about 12,000 years ago. Having said that, I highly recommend it to anyone serious about understanding the depth and breadth of the challenges agriculture has posed on the global, national, community, individual and gut (yes, I mean “tummy”) levels.
Lierre Keith was a vegan for 20 years. At 16 she ached, like so many conscientious young people, to save the world, so she stopped eating animal products and lived, or barely survived as it turns out, on vegetables, grains and the vegetarian diet staple, soy and its many byproducts. She almost died.
Keith chronicles the story of her descent into depression, emaciation, chronic pain and compromised fertility as she systematically disassembles the three major platforms from which vegetarians and vegans decry the killing of animals: moral, political and nutritional vegetarianism.
Says Keith:
The moral vegetarians believe – and they believe it with all their hearts and with all their good reasons – that the question is life or death. But that is not the choice that nature offers any of us. We are all – apple trees and coho salmon, earthworms and black terns – predators, and then prey. Life or death? is not the question that will save us.
But this could be: What grows where you live?…What grows where you live becomes Why are there so many of us? This leads to the question of who controls women’s bodies…
It appears at first glance that Keith is making some giant leaps – from the taking of the life of a worm to overpopulation to the subjugation of women – but she does it thoughtfully and it makes sense.
Addressing political vegetarianism is a little more complicated, at least to me who struggles with the labyrinth that is politics (although I can take you through the labyrinth of the human digestive system with aplomb, so maybe it’s just a question of aptitude.) Keith writes:
Refraining from factory farm animal products is a righteous act, for animals and the earth, but it will not feed a single hungry person. The hungry don’t have money to buy North American grain; getting the money means further dependence on the masters of globalization; and cheap commodities from afar only further destroy local food production, the only real food security that can exist. This is why there are no international aid agencies that suggest vegetarianism as a solution to world hunger: it isn’t one. I understand how the desperate longing for a just and fed world can lead us to cling to simple answers, especially answers that are easy to institute in our personal lives. But buying a soy burger is an emotional quick fix that does not address the tenacious and terrible roots of power and inequality.
Most importantly:
Check the label: you’re probably giving money to the very corporations that are creating the problem.
Can you say “Monsanto?” “Archer Daniels Midland?” “Cargill?”
It is when Keith addresses nutritional vegetarianism that she strikes the loudest chord with me. She and I have great respect for those whose moral, ethical and political convictions lead them to wrestle with these issues, but I think the majority of people will be swayed mostly by the personal. We have to save our own health before we can save the world. If you only read the chapter entitled “Nutritional Vegetarians” it will be an education in itself.
Keith shows us the archeological evidence that we are an omnivorous animal evolved to eat “meat, fowl, fish and leaves, roots and fruits of many plants.” Today:
We are eating foods that didn’t even exist until a few thousand years ago: domesticated annuals, especially grains, and even more their industrial endpoint of refined flours, sugars, and oils…Our own bodies, with their degenerative diseases and overgrowth of cells, are all the evidence we need that this diet is unnatural.
She leads the reader through a short course on the human digestive system and metabolism, including the story of insulin, one of the major culprits in the crime that is the USDA food pyramid (now My Plate) and its recommendation that we eat a diet that is 60% carbohydrate.
Your body will turn that carbohydrate into almost two cups of glucose, and each and every molecule has to be reckoned with.
It’s insulin that does the reckoning – and the wrecking. An overabundance of this essential hormone leads to fat accumulation, high blood pressure, heart disease, arteriosclerosis, oxidation of LDL cholesterol, diabetes and more, much more.
Don’t just consider reading this book if you are a vegetarian, or know one. Even for those of us committed to supporting locally grown, grass-fed and pastured animals and their products for our own health and the health of the environment, there is much here to be gained. I challenge you to read this book and not look differently at food in the fields and pastures and forests, food on your plate, and what it takes to get it from one to the other while still leaving a world for your grandchildren.
Debra Meadow is a Certified Nutritional Therapist in Portland, Oregon. She helps clients get healthy and stay healthy using a nutritionally dense, whole food diet. Her passion for cooking and eating real food comes through in individual consultations, group classes and one-on-one cooking and shopping tutorials. Debra blogs at Blue Raven Wellness and you can find her on Facebook.
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Written by Margaret Floyd on 14/11/11 pm30 08:53 PM
One of the first questions I’m asked when someone finds out I’m in the nutrition field is “So, you’re a vegetarian?” It’s a loaded question, whether they realize it or not.
The prevailing belief when it comes to our food and health is that the fewer animal products we eat, the better. It’s perceived to be the healthier, the more ethical, the more environmental option.
I was a vegetarian of some shade or another for the better part of 12 years. I started in University for the politics of it, loving how radical it felt, and continued on and off until, ironically, I studied nutrition. I’ll confess right up front that for much of this time I wasn’t particularly good at it – I was the classic junk food vegetarian. I didn’t eat meat, but what I was eating wasn’t all that fabulous. I was more of a carbivore than anything – pasta, bread, cereals – mostly because I could never fill myself up.
During my years as a vegetarian, I had loads of digestive issues and was constantly hungry. Several times I figured this was because I wasn’t being “pure” or radical enough, so I tried my hand at a strictly vegan diet (no eggs, dairy, or anything that came from an animal). All the issues got worse, not better. The “healthier” I ate, the worse I felt. Occasionally I’d cheat and eat a little meat. To my great dismay, I would feel much better: my digestive issues resolved and I was completely satiated after even a small meal. What a predicament.
I see clients in my practice all the time in this same quandary: well-intentioned, following what they’ve been taught is a healthy, plant-based diet, trying to live their values of environmental sustainability and animal welfare through their food choices, and yet their body rebelling. What a horrible choice: feel good in your body but guilty about the impacts of your choices; or feel good ethically and miserable physically.
When I started studying nutrition, one of the concepts that compelled me the most was bio-individuality. Basically it means that what works for you might not work for me, and vice versa. One man’s food is another man’s poison. Bio-individuality is based on everything from physiology, family background, geography, ethnicity, season, blood type, stress levels, personal preferences… it’s a veritable jigsaw puzzle of factors that determine how our body will react to something.
This means that there’s no one diet that works for everyone. In fact, the diet that works for you today might be completely inappropriate five or ten years down the road. This concept of bio-individuality explains why some people thrive on a vegetarian diet while others, like me, really struggle with it.
But explaining why I did well with meat didn’t make me feel better about eating it. In fact, initially it made me feel worse. My biological wiring wasn’t making it easy to live according to the values I set for myself.
With a little more investigation, I learned that there was indeed a way to eat meat and feel good about it on an environmental and ethical level. Perhaps my innate instincts were turning me on to an important lesson in broadening my understanding of the issues at stake.
I, like many people, lumped “animal foods” into one big category. I’d seen the horrifying images from inside feedlots. I’d seen the stomach-turning videos of abusive treatment to animals. I was well aware of the major contribution ruminants make to water pollution and climate change, not to mention the energy intensity of raising them. What I wasn’t aware of was a whole other source of meat, eggs, and dairy, grown by a small but growing group of independent farmers.
Farmer Joe Salatin of Polyface Farms and his grass-fed herd
These farmers are using traditional farming techniques that not only preserve but enhance their environments by increasing biomass and using minimal, if any, external inputs. They treat the animals humanely, allowing them to engage in their natural behaviors and eat the food they’re biologically designed to eat. One such farmer, Joel Salatin, has become quite famous for the methods he uses on his farm Polyface Farm. Many others are working with similar models throughout the country. Now this is meat you can feel good about!
As a wonderful bonus, not only is this an environmentally responsible choice and makes the health and welfare of its animals a top priority, it also provides meat, dairy and eggs that are far more nutritious. As one example: beef that comes from grass-fed versus feedlot cows is higher in the all-important Omega 3s, lower in fat overall, and contains CLA (conjugated linoleic acid) that promotes healthy weight, lowers triglycerides, and has been linked to cancer prevention. You’ll find similar differences in the nutritional profiles of wild versus farmed fish, eggs from pastured chickens versus those raised conventionally in battery cages, and so on.
I immediately became very selective about what meat we bring into our home. You won’t find standard supermarket fare in our house. Yes, it’s more expensive, so we eat less of it to compensate.
The great news is that when I’m eating this way, I feel fabulous. My energy levels even out, my digestion ticks along like a well-oiled machine, and I feel lean and strong.
And then, every once in a while, hearing the vegetarian model aggressively promoted yet again, I start to question myself. I start weaning out the meat, I eat a few more grains (whole grains now – I’ve moved away from my junk food days) and a few more beans; I increase the veggie content even more than normal (50-70% of all my meals are vegetables regardless), and whaddaya know… the digestive complaints come back, I’m overstuffed but still not satiated after meals, and I start to bloat. Turns out that a plant-based diet really doesn’t work for me after all.
Digestive issues and constant hunger aside, I kind of miss the simplicity of my vegetarian days. It was so easy to just label anything that came from an animal as “bad” and end the conversation there. Unfortunately, the reality is a lot more complicated, and not nearly so black and white. Ultimately it depends on your individual biology and it depends on the source of your meat.
Here are three ways your body could be telling you it needs animal protein:
1) After a plant-based meal you experience great digestive distress.
2) After a plant-based meal you feel excessively full but still hungry and not satiated.
3) You experience powerful sugar cravings in the afternoons and evenings.
What’s your body telling you?
If you’re body is like mine and does better on an omnivorous diet, here’s a starting point for finding quality, pastured meat, dairy and eggs: www.eatwild.com
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Written by Margaret Floyd on 08/11/11 am30 08:00 AM
This month, October, is the long-awaited month of my honeymoon. Hubby Chef James and I are in Europe enjoying the food, the wine, and a little downtime after a rather intense year.
Two days into said honeymoon, the toenail on my left foot had an unfortunate and extremely painful encounter with a restaurant door (I’ll save you the gory details). This little incident ultimately landed me in the ER, in a whole lot of pain, and on crutches. What a way to start a honeymoon.
I like to think of myself as someone who handles life’s ups and downs with grace and poise. That image was shattered as I bitched, moaned, and threw one too many hissy fits. All because of a toenail. Sigh.
Hidden in my despair, however, were some very important lessons:
- A renewed appreciation of the little things. Aside from the occasional pedicure, toenails aren’t something I think about much. What a surprise to learn that such a little thing can quite literally stop me in my tracks. Never again will I take my toenails, for granted, and my bedtime ritual body sweep has been transformed into a million thank you’s for all the seemingly insignificant parts of me that are working properly.
- A newfound respect for those operating with physical constraints. It’s such a cliché how we take our ease of movement and physicality for granted. You don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone, right? Up until this point, as much as I tried to imagine life with physical challenges, I’ve never been able to empathize. I now have a small window of insight into that experience and my respect for the strength, tenacity, and endurance of those living immobilized and in pain has skyrocketed.
- The humility required to ask for and receive help. As someone who prides herself on her independence in all realms, physical and otherwise, I found this one the hardest to learn. What a complicated emotional exercise. The different layers of guilt, frustration, unworthiness, and fear of being perceived as weak were so thick and intertwined, I still haven’t untangled them all. Did I learn this fine art of receiving help? Not really. I tried, but mostly I learned how difficult it is.
- You get what you ask for, like it or not. I tend to move through life at lightning speed, with barely a moment to digest my present before dashing off to the next experience. I had declared this holiday a time to slow down, sleep, and spend endless hours reading and taking in the world. Of course our first two days into it had none of this quality as we rushed around Florence, trying to absorb the city over our brief three-day visit. It was this toe accident that brought us to a grinding halt, forcing me to sit for hours on end and to move at the slowest of paces. At first I fought it, mourning the long runs we’d planned for exploring the Tuscan countryside and the sexy Italian footwear I’d been wanting. But eventually I relaxed into it and have settled into a much, much slower pace. Despite myself, all thanks to my toe.
And so the biggest lessons were found in the littlest of things. What little things have taught you the most?
An aside: during a short visit to the Museum of Torture in San Gimignano I learned that the removal of nails is one of the fastest ways to extract a confession and a preferred form of torture still used to this day. Perhaps my whining wasn’t all undue.
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Written by Margaret Floyd on 25/10/11 am31 08:00 AM
It’s 3:45pm and I find myself standing at the fridge, door open, wondering what I can munch on. I’m craving something creamy and fatty. Cheese? Yogurt? Avocado? Butter? And then I notice my stomach still feels full from lunch. Why am I standing here about to eat more?
Cravings. The word alone elicits feelings of guilt, powerlessness, and uncontrolled urges that need to be mastered.
But what are cravings? Could our bodies actually be telling us something?
If you’ve read my book, you’ll know that I have a tortured (and no longer secret) love affair with a very un-naked food: boxed macaroni and cheese. Yes, the stuff with white pasta and fluorescent orange dye. Sometimes I don’t think about it at all. At other times, I can hardly stand it I crave it so badly. What’s up with that?
Our bodies are communicating with us all the time. Trouble is, most of the time we’re not listening. Or if we hear it, we ignore it or try to shut it up.
Cravings are our bodies speaking to us, loudly. Perhaps we’ve missed some subtler cues, so we get an uncontrollable urge. Uncontrollable gets our attention. Uncontrollable is hard to ignore.
When your body craves something, instead of trying to muscle through it or just giving in immediately, take a few moments to listen to the craving. What’s it telling you? What’s it asking for really?
Maybe your body’s asking for something that’s got nothing to do with food. Love, distraction, comfort, ritual, acceptance. These are all vitally important things, and if these needs aren’t being satisfied, food is one way to fill the void.
Maybe your body’s asking for a nutrient. Craving chocolate? Your body could be low in magnesium. Craving fat? This is a typical sign of essential fatty acid deficiency. Craving sugar? Maybe you need more protein or fat in your diet.
Maybe your body’s asking for a change of pace. If you’ve been too strict with yourself, maybe you need to chill out a little. If you’ve been excessively debaucherous, maybe it’s time to settle down and find your healthy groove again.
But here’s the thing: you’ll never know what your body’s asking for until you take the time to listen.
Here are some of my favorite tools for listening:
- Glass of water – if you find yourself craving something, instead of just automatically indulging, stop and have a glass of water first. Take the time of drinking the water to check in with yourself. At the very least you’ll have snuck in an extra glass of water, and often we mistake thirst for hunger.
- Journaling – If you have the time, take out your journal and write “What are you really wanting?” at the top. Take a few deep breaths, don’t overthink, and just write what comes to you. This is a great tool for allowing your body’s inner wisdom to come through.
- Compassion – Most of all, you want to be compassionate with yourself. Judgment clouds our listening and confuses the message. Be easy with it. Remember, this isn’t about willpower. This is about listening and learning.
Next time you crave something, take a moment to look underneath it. What’s your body really asking for?
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Written by Margaret Floyd on 11/10/11 am31 08:00 AM
