Ginger Tablet

The Blood and Vegetables Commandments

Well, I lied. I said I would post every day for two weeks and then I really didn't. My reasons were complicated. First of all the executive committee of Ginger Tablet took one look at me and decided I needed to get out of the house more. They prescribed a weekend of parties, field trips and excessive drinking. I complied. Once I had met their requirements and demonstrated correct dancing techniques to artist populations in Glasgow and Dundee, I returned home to commence the blog once more.

That's when an important component in my computer decided to die. More specifically, the "power tip" for my ancient Dell. I had to order a new one and wait patiently for it to arrive, consoling myself in the cool glow of J's deluxe and powerful Mac.

Plus, after I gave blood last Thursday I died a slow and miserable death and that really got in the way of my life goals. Oh boy, am I joking. I don't mean to proselytize like a rabid new convert, but giving blood is exactly like what they say on the guilt-tripping commercials: easy+fast+painless+feel good smugness+COOKIE. Honestly. I know the trust is broken, but I'm not lying now. A few years back, some "doctor", some pimple on the ass of the otherwise majestic city of Montreal, misdiagnosed me with cancer. During that time I had a lot of blood taken for tests. Other than the thought of dying and having my lymph nodes constantly probed (they reside in delicate places), extruding blood was the thing I hated most. I was pretty worried it was going to feel the same, but it actually hurt less. And even though they were taking far more, it only took about 10 minutes. I've also fainted around needles twice in the past, but I didn't even feel funny standing up after the bloodletting. Plus, not only did I get a cookie, it was a Tunnock's tea cake! I'm doing this again, as soon as possible.

I know a lot of people have very genuine reasons for not doing this, but if you're not among them, just do it. Sermon over.

Another one beginning:

I strongly suggest that you make some mushroom pate (and that you forgive my lack of accents). Are you tired of your normal sandwich fillings? Is that acrid store-bought hummus making you sad? Is that unsettling flop of luncheon meat turning your stomach? Mushroom pate, my friends, that is the answer.

Admittedly, this doesn't sound like a sexy proposal. It sounds a little vegan in fact. A little like a "substitute" for something that actually tastes nice. But I'm pretty sure I had a dream about this spread last night, and I couldn't wait to unsnap the lid of my lunch box today.

Happiness can be yours. Just buy some regular mushrooms. That's what I did; one of the massive supermarkets was selling a 2lbs box of mushrooms for 1.50 and I couldn't pass up that bargain. So to deal with this very large quantity, I cut up an onion and some garlic and added a bit more butter than I normally would into a pot (a couple of tablespoons). I sauteed them and then began slicing my mushrooms and throwing them in there, too. At first I wasn't going to add the lot, but the smell of them cooking weakened my will. I sliced all of them and sent J out for a bottle of white wine. While he was gone, I added some rosemary and thyme, and just kept on stirring them now and again. At this point they were dark and slippy and small and amazingly delicious. Especially with a bit of salt thrown in. When the wine arrived, one glug was added and after a couple of minutes the heat was turned off. I made one piece of toast. I put half of the mushrooms and the crumbled piece of toast into the blender. Blitzing occurred, my love was instant.

With a texture like raw silk and a flavour that seemed impossibly deep given the basic ingredients, I only managed to dislodge the spoon from my hand with the thought that the pate would (crazy as it seemed) be better tomorrow after a night in the fridge. AND IT WAS. The method I used was a simple one, but you can added in loads of other things like shallots, different booze, cheeses like parmesan, cream and maybe mascarpone, different herbs; your choice. You could make it properly vegan and use olive oil instead of butter. This is also perfect for sensitive geniuses who want a vegetarian spread but find beans difficult.

With the rest of the lovely mushrooms we made a risotto. That was easy too as the mushrooms had already been cooked and flavoured. I just put in a bit of oil, added the rice and a dribble of wine. Then the stock, stock, stock and it was done and it was perfect.

To review, that was two delicious things made from one pot of sauteed mushrooms. It makes me think that sauteed mushrooms could in fact be a staple of the kitchen that I should always have on hand. Not only so I can eat pate for the rest of my days, but also for their skills with eggs, dark meat and pasta. Buying two pounds at once is starting to seem like a paltry amount. But then again, I've just roasted seven peppers and baked a couple dozen banana muffins. As I've been temporarily taken over by a squirrel preparing for winter, my voluminous leanings should perhaps be avoided.

Smug Bread, Happy Gut

Making homemade bread is a fragrant and delicious way to feel superior to those around you, but according to this article, it also could be a lot easier to digest than the commercial stuff. Sensitive Geniuses take note.

Soda Bread with Rosemary and Pistachios - A Recipe for Jess

Here are some reasons to make this bread:

1) You are smart and talented enough to do it.

Have you ever made soda bread before? A goat could do it. Honestly. And it's so good that you would still want to eat it even if it was decorated in hoof prints. What's it involve? You mix flour, water, salt and baking powder together in a ball, throw it in the oven and bake it until it's bread. That's right. It's that easy, but miraculously doesn't turn into inedible paste. This bread will form a more satisfying loaf than cornbread and has a far less finicky dough than biscuits or scones and this makes it a trooper and a saint amongst quick breads.

2) This is perhaps the ultimate variation of the humble soda bread.

You don't have to add anything to the original recipe. It's good as it is. But the dough can be made with a multitude of different flours and its solid crumb could host any number of flavours. This is a bread that will warmly wrap new ideas into its doughy folds and incorporate them thoroughly. I started out using a recipe from Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall for a honey and walnut soda bread loaf. It was tasty, but quite sweet and this made it an awkward partner for dinners. So I took some ideas from that recipe (mainly the ground walnuts) and perused a number of others and came up with a recipe that contained yogurt for a moist texture (and because it apparently activates the baking soda futher - more traditionally, one could use a soured milk), crushed walnuts for body and whole pistachios for taste and good looks, and some rosemary for absolute seduction.   

3) It's speedy enough to be made by the lazy after work.

Even my souped up version can be made in the small window between my arrival home and the commencement of Hollyoaks (leave Warren, Louise). It bakes during the episode and leaves you enough time to turn off the tv (in fact it was never on in the first place...I'm not an addict) and start chopping for dinner. If your dining companion is then 15 minutes late, you will be pulling out the loaf just as he arrives and give the impression that a lot of hard work has taken place, when actually you were mostly watching your stories. Theoretically.

4) Oh my god it's still winter and we still have to eat winter food.

Why won't it end? It's not cold here, but it's still very dark and very wet. A brief reprieve this past week only makes the coming days of gloom even harder to bear. And we still have to eat winter food long after that was a new and sexy idea. No one wants more stew or soup or braises and no one wants to wear their jumpers/sweaters anymore. And yet it persists. Oh well. You won't think about this bread in the summer, but it will make you feel a little bit better now.

5) Because we all need some flexibility in our lives.

I tried to balance the flavours in this loaf so it could make a smooth transition from evening companion to breakfast pal. When we ate the first few warm slices they were covered with wilted spinach cooked with bacon and shallots topped with a garlic fried egg and served with some garlic and cumin yogurt. Nice. This combination is pretty sure of a place in our standard rotation from now on.

The next morning I had one slice with crowdie, a very ancient and soft cheese of the Highlands, and plum jam. I then had a slice with butter and honey. I was not hungry at all for almost five hours after that. It's a filling wee bread.

6) I could not have made this any better for you.

I wish I could figure out the nutrient content of this baby! Do you see how much fiber and protein and sources of vitamins and omega 3 there are? But despite all of that, it still taste delicious. Honestly. It doesn't taste delicious the way that carob is supposed to taste delicious. Just because only really nice things went into it in the first place.

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This recipe is dedicated to Jess -- not because she has the baking expertise of a goat, in fact she is a lady at one with dough -- but because I hope it's a bread she'll be able to eat. And because I miss her most of the days of the week.

 

A note for people with Sensitive Geniuses: This bread would be good for you! Does it sound like it has too much fiber for your genius? You can make it with some white flour instead, maybe with some oats thrown in. The dinner I ate last night would be pretty safe too. Just take out anything tricky like the bacon or the shallots (I know it's very, very depressing). Put some lemon in the spinach instead. Use probiotic yogurt if you can do dairy. For breakfast, skip the crowdie in favour of jam, honey, avocado or even some old, hard cheese (the lactose breaks down over time making it easier to digest for some).

P.S. I first categorized this under British Food Recipes. Can you imagine? Dan would have murdered me in my sleep. This is clearly a recipe for Irish Soda Bread and it now has its own category even if nothing else ever comes to join it.

The Sensitive Genius Within

Deep in the recesses of my guts, I have a Sensitive Genius.

Did you know that the digestive system has as many neurons as the brain? When we are tiny, tiny little blobs of pre-baby, our brain cells and our digestive cells start out connected and only later on drift away from each other. Our digestive system almost operates like a second brain; the neurons are able to control our digestion independently of the no.1 brain in our heads (this is called the enteric nervous system). In my case that bright little bundle of neurons that went on to create my dazzling intellect seems to have parted from an equally active and imaginative little bundle that went on to create my guts. And that second brain, the Genius Within, did not want to go unnoticed.

He's all screwed up, the Genius. He's absolutely paranoid for one thing. He totally misinterprets it when my head brain tells him there is something to be nervous or stressed about. Instead of taking a deep breath and getting some perspective, or unleashing a herd of butterflies in my stomach in the case of something really scary, he unleashes excruciating cramps that leave me unable to walk. Sometimes over things that are really trivial. Things that my head brain knows will work out just fine.

He's moody and sensitive, too. Our guts are regulated by the hormone serotonin (the stuff that makes the head brain happy); it makes our intestines move smoothly. Except mine can't keep his dosage regular. There's a problem with the receptors of the cells in my guts. There's too much serotonin some days, nothing the next; the Genius is all over the place. And that effects how everything works. It also affects how everything feels. The fluctuations of the Sensitive Genius makes me way more sensitive to pain than people with 'normal' guts. Every other part of me is super tough, but whacked out hormones just make the Genius feel way more. And do you know where half of all of our nerve endings live? Yup. In our guts. Once again, excruciating.

This is a real condition that people know really very little about. The research into how hormones affect the enteric system seems to be the most promising, so that's the version I'm sticking with. But really, the experts don't know how people get it or really how to help them. I'm going to keep on being euphemistic, but if you need to know, or if you have something similar, here's a link. It's estimated that between 10-20 percent of the population may be living with this and most of them will be undiagnosed.

I've known about this for a long time now, and I've done a lot to calm down the Sensitive Genius. By trial and a whole lot of error, working with a dietitian and a therapist and by learning a lot about food and digestion, I'm able to keep The Genius pretty stable. Most of the time he feels like he's in a good place; he's had a book published, he found a part-time lecturing job, he has a small group of peers that find him interesting and maybe even wins the odd grant. But now and then he feels like I'm forgetting about him. That I'm not taking his brilliance seriously. Maybe even that I'm too concerned with my own career to notice his. And then he gets into a violent rage and then I can't move for a few days. Sometimes the event that sets him off is obvious (I was pretty sick right around the end of both of my degrees), but other times, like this past weekend, it's very hard for me to say.

To calm him down, I go back to the basic diet that my deititian first put me on four or five years ago. It's pretty boring and features things that are really easy to digest only. This excludes a lot of foods that are very healthy (most whole grains, many vegetables) and a lot of foods that are very fun (chocolate, tea, alcohol). So once the Genius is calm again (I'll read his latest manuscript and tell him of its lucid poetry so unexpected in a biography of Elizabeth Hurley) I'll start introducing the other foods; the good stuff.  I always keep the basic diet in mind, and I'm careful not to add in too many difficult foods, but sometimes I get the balance wrong and the Genius gets indignant.

This blog isn't going to turn into a tale of my struggles with the Genius. This is firstly because the condition is gross and I find it embarrassing and it's pretty much the last thing that anyone wants to think about when imagining adventures with food. But secondly because it really doesn't bother me that much. 97% of the time I'm completely fine and the Genius is happy, just working away. But from now on, if I post a recipe that's easy to digest and could be pretty safely consumed by other people with their own Sensitive Geniuses, then I'll label it as such. And if you ever have any questions about this condition, treatments, foods to eat safely, fiber, etc. send me an email (gingertablet (at) googlemail (dot) com) and we can talk about it.

I wish I could post some good links for forums and websites, but I haven't found anything that I could back. If you have a problem like this, or if you think you might but haven't been diagnosed, I would go to your doctor. I would also find a dietitian who specialized in GI difficulties. The Genius used to be out of control and I was in a lot of pain every day. Now he's pretty happy and most days we both just get on with being brilliant and leave each other alone. 

Since I've been restricted to the land of joyless eating, wine gums (only a few...) and pretzel sticks have been my best friends this week. I've also been eating a lot of oats, bananas, avocados, tuna and pretty plain pasta.

Next week I promise to put the powerpoint away, get the camera out and talk about some nice food. By then the Genuis will probably be back at work on his new ballet. He tells me that it will concern the ill-fated love of Mary J Blige and Chekhov. I just wish he would shut up already.