Well, we're midway into the third year of our dual-degree program, and my cohort and I have just started to get underway with our studies of classical Chinese medicine. I'd say there's a smattering of excitement and a generous amount of awe of the medicine. As a group, my classmates and I are adorably awkward and humble as we try to practice some of the wildly un-Western concepts. So far, one thing is for sure: it's a ridiculously beautiful medicine. Let's indulge in a little of it's beauty, shall we?

For a recent assignment, I was asked to prepare a classical Chinese medicinal formula. You know, a recipe from a 1800 year old book. No big.

I got to choose the formula that I would prepare, but given how little I know about classical formulas, selecting my recipe was a lot like throwing darts, especially with my aim. I ended up working with a charming interplay of herbs found to "govern" in cases of, as my instructor put it, "stomach qi rebellion", a charming way of implying conditions where stuff moves upward from the stomach, as far as I can tell, like hiccups, belching and (what are the kids saying these days?) Ralphing?

Despite its ancientness, my recipe included some familiar herbs: tangerine peel, licorice, ginger and a few others, including bamboo! Bamboo, the familiar, yet super hip, boringly zen member of the grass family. Famous in certain thai curries, as an eco-friendly building material, and sometimes, as a most stubborn and aggressive garden weed. How fun to get to know it as a medicine too.

Our instructions for the assignment were to make the medicine exactly according to the original recipe. This one is a decoction, meaning the herbs are boiled for a particular amount of time. Here it is boiling away. Forty-five minutes of this, yielded a dark, slightly sweet, slightly smoky, very concentrated ...elixir, shall we say?

Behold, friends, an entire post dedicated to the magic that is cinnamon. See, me and cinnamon went way, way back. I thought I knew knew the herb--good ol' cinnamon, you know: tasty with apples, fun in a smoothie, a secret ingredient in a handful of savory dishes, even.

Then came the day I threw a few cinnamon sticks (also called quills) in my herb grinder. That's when we really met, and I learned that cinnamon is less like a flavor of boxed cereal and much more like a small fire that burns sweet, a gentle sun ray spiked with electricity, or a languid kitten that dreamily pricks you with its tiny claws. Oh, cinnamon.

This transformation of the herb from familiar to delightfully powerful and somewhat exotic, is the effect of experiencing the plant in a more complete way. Grinding the herb right before using it eliminates the time that the ground herb sits around, all the while dissipating it's precious constituents directly into the air, or allowing light to break down the herb's natural chemicals. So, maybe cinnamon can serve as an example of how alive these fresh ground spices can be.

A couple years ago, I bit the bullet and bought myself a coffee grinder and dedicated it solely to herbs and spices (no coffee allowed!). The payoff has been all these super sexy new relationships with herbs I used to think were mundane. Mustard seed! Cumin! Black pepper, for crying out loud! Who knew black pepper had floral notes??

Grinding herbs at home isn't too complicated as long as you have a spice grinder (or coffee grinder, same thing) that you're willing to keep free of coffee beans. Just throw in your spice and press the only button on the machine!

In the case of cinnamon, it's helpful to break up the quills into pieces. Sometimes wedging a table knife into the slits of the quills is the easiest way to break up a tough one.

If I'm being meticulous, I'll wash the grinder between each spice (to avoid contamination of herbs with each other). I've also heard of grinding rice between herbs as a way of "cleaning" the grinder. Do you have any good spice grinder tips?

Ok, kids. I've caved. I've become one of those food bloggers who features bacon prominently and probably unnecessarily. It's a bit of a savvy blogging tactic, I think--a little pandering for clicks, perhaps. It's just that bacon is so sexy.

Really though, the meat of this recipe is the fact that it's super low carb, comes in a cozy little package and is very adaptable. As for the bacon, you can take it or leave it.

Variations on this recipe that I've tried include:

• Roasted Roots with Spicy Italian Chicken Sausage
• Winter Veggies with Sharp Cheddar and Pecorino Romano

Obviously, this can easily be adapted to fit your diet/lifestyle needs. I've included the pictured recipe, as well as a generic recipe below.

Big thanks to my colleague, Desta Golden, for supplying me with this brilliant low-carbohydrate idea via our Diabetes Management class. Watch out Virginia, Mrs. Golden is headed your way in a couple years!

Serving Size: 2 muffins
Carbohydrates: 7g
Fiber: 1g

Bacon, Feta and Butternut Squash Omlette Muffins (GF, low lactose, low GL)

3 bacon strips, uncooked, chopped
1 small onion
5 eggs, beaten
2 tablespoons plain whole milk yogurt
black pepper
nutmeg
3/4 cup butternut squash, cubed and roasted with salt
1/4 cup feta cheese, some reserved for topping (I used goat milk feta)
2 tablespoons pumpkin seeds

Preheat the oven to 350˚F. Fry the bacon and onions together until the bacon is fully cooked and the onions are clear or slightly browned. While they are cooking, combine the eggs, yogurt, black pepper and nutmeg and whisk together until completely incorporated. Fold in the squash and feta and set aside. Grease 6 muffin cups with butter or coconut oil, then spoon the cooked onions and bacon, pour the egg mixture over this until the liquid almost fills each muffin cup. Top with the reserved feta and the pumpkin seeds and pop this pretty mess into the oven. Bake until the tops are golden and the center is springy, about 20-30 minutes.


Omlette Muffins: Choose-Your-Own-Adventure Style (GF, possibly: vegetarian, low GL, lactose free)

5 eggs, beaten
2 tablespoons plain whole milk yogurt
black pepper
nutmeg
1 cup cooked veggies (pick your faves!)
1/4 cup cheese, some reserved for topping (completely optional)
2 tablespoons chopped nuts or seeds for garnish (optional, but why not?)

Preheat the oven to 350˚F. Combine the eggs, yogurt, black pepper and nutmeg and whisk together until completely incorporated. Fold in the veggies and/or cheese and set aside. Grease 6 muffin cups with butter or coconut oil, and fill them 7/8ths full with the egg mixture. Top with the reserved cheese, seeds or nuts and pop this pretty mess into the oven. Bake until the tops are golden and the center is springy, about 20-30 minutes.

Let's ruminate on fake meats for a moment. Depending on the brand, they're either outlandishly pointless or, actually, kind of tasty. Aside from picking out the right package from the freezer section, the other tricky part about fake meats is that they are very processed, forcing vegetarians, vegans and a few fake meat lovers into a quagmire of gums and modified starches if they just want some good salty spice and a decent mouthfeel. Despite these potential pitfalls, sometimes a girl just wants some non-meat chorizo, am I right?

Well, here’s a sweet DIY vegan and gluten free nutmeat that's full of protein and flavor, made only from real, down-to-earth ingredients--in two traditional sausage flavors: chorizo and finocchiona. The fun and challenge of this cooking project is that it requires some elbow grease. Soaked nuts and simmered mushrooms are muddled to get the right meat grinder texture. But it's ok, the exercise and the ensuing protein-packed meal will put you on track for some bangin' triceps.

Deli-style Nutmeats (Vegan, Gluten Free, Low Glycemic Load)

6 cups water
1 cup almonds
1 cup cashews
3 tablespoons salt
1 lb mushrooms (any kind)
Spice mix (choose one from below)
3 tablespoons apple cider vinegar

Start this recipe at least 6 hours ahead of time by soaking the almonds in the water and salt. After two hours, add the cashews and soak for a few more hours, (but no more than 6, or the cashews will get a little slimy). Slice the mushrooms finely and simmer until they are limp. Add the drained nuts to the simmering mushrooms and reduce until almost all the water evaporates.

Next, roll up your sleeves, get out your muddler, and muddle those bad boys until you get a sticky consistency that looks a little like ground meat. This step takes some dedication and it's ok to take a break. When you've muddled the whole batch, give yourself a high five, and incorporate the spice mixture and the apple cider vinegar into the muddled nuts.

Use these nutmeats anywhere you would use sausage--nacho topping, squash stuffing, taco building, frittata filling--you get the idea. They brown nicely in a frying pan, but won't hold together like a sausage patty.

To save for later, divide quarter cup portions of the nutmeat and wrap these little morsels in parchment paper. Sealed in a plastic bag, these nut sausages will last months in the freezer, and are super handy for  tasty last-minute meal ideas.

I packaged these up into pretty gifts that look fresh from the neighborhood deli, by using parchment paper, printer paper and some rad custom labels from a sweet Portland-based company called Evermine (which also happens to be the entrepreneurial pride and joy of my parents, Jeanne and David).

The snowy dreamland that was Portland this past week prompted some delightfully cozy activities, like bundling up for long crunchy walks, mulling wine, napping all day, and of course, hot cocoa.

Ever since I started eating a little healthier a few years ago, hot chocolate repeatedly proved itself a disappointment. The coziness it could instill was never worth how weird and gross I felt afterward, so I was really ok with the idea of giving up hot cocoa forever. I figured I had outgrown it, the way I outgrew other childhood activities like watching other people play video games, or playing the impressively uninventive two-person card game called War.

Recently, though, my sister gave me a small package of stone ground mexican-style dark chocolate and told me how to make it into hot cocoa. I liked it, and aside from a boost in coziness, I felt totally normal afterward. But, I didn't realize just how good it was until a few days ago when I served it to a friend who "mmm"-ed over it and said, "Oh my god, I love you. This is so good." So maybe it's worth sharing, yes?

I'm not one for cooking from packages, in general, or certainly not showcasing it on the internet, but in this case, I think it makes some sense. A couple pieces of the Mexican-style stone ground chocolate, made by TAZA Chocolate, provides the cocoa and sugar in a refreshingly not-too-sweet ratio (while helping to keep us from over-adding sugar to the mix). Add this to boiling water in single serving cup with cream and it's as quick as a package of the 'Miss, but way tastier. I like to add cream instead of milk because it's easier on folks who are sensitive to lactose, like me and many of my guests.

The cocoa pictured below contains a dollop of cream that had just barely turned to butter in the carton. Yum!

Serving Size: 1 recipe
Carbohydrates: 4.5 g
Fiber: 0 g

Cozy Cocoa (GF, low GL)

1/3 oz Mexican-style dark chocolate (that's 2 chunks if you're using TAZA)
8-10 oz water (to be boiled) plus hot tap water
2 tablespoons cream, coconut milk or alternative milk
vanilla, chipotle, cinnamon, ginger, cayenne or nutmeg (optional)

Put a pot or kettle of water on to boil. In the meantime, fill a mug with hot tap water and set aside. Once the water is boiling, empty the mug, place the chocolate into it, and pour boiling water over the chocolate. Stir with a warmed spoon until the chocolate has completely melted. Add the cream/milk and any other spices you'd like and enjoy!

I signed up to contribute pumpkin pie to two thanksgiving gatherings this year, so, perhaps predictably, I embarked on the challenge to make a stunningly delicious pie AND make it gluten free and dairy free. This means I've been eating a lot of trial pies, which has been super fun.

At this point, it really is no big deal to make a delicious dairy free pumpkin pie filling and a suitably delicious gluten free crust. Old news. But when making my first trial pie, I made a mistake by doubling the water in the pastry recipe--the dough was pasty and weird--but I forged ahead with the experiment. What came of it was a crust that walks the line between chewy and crunchy, along with, of course, the delicate saltiness and coconut undertones of the original GF DF pastry crust. My kitchen bystanders loved it, and I did too; I found myself at times mining a trial pie or or three just for the crust.

So, yes, the crust is something pretty stellar (as long as it's fully cooked, I've learned) but I mention it without meaning to detract from the filling, which is fabulous on its own: spicy, lightly sweet and very compact in flavor. I think it's best to think of this filling and pastry as a tart rather than a pie. Don't expect a flaky, buttery crust and a plethoric, custardy filling, which would be consistent with pie. Instead, ready yourself for a dainty few bites, consisting of a compact, spicy filling in a chewy cookie-like shell--a tart!

Here's how to do it at home:

Stunning Pumpkin Tart (Gluten Free, Dairy Free)

Filling:
3 tablespoons coconut oil
3 cups roasted squash
3 eggs
1 3/4 cups almond milk (or any kind of milk)
1/3 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon vanilla
3 teaspoons fresh ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon fresh ground nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon fresh ground cloves
1 teaspoon ground ginger

In a small heat-safe bowl or pan, gently heat the coconut oil. (I like to heat the oil in a stainless steel measuring cup in the oven, but I suppose a small pot on the stove over gentle heat would work too) While the oil is heating, combine the squash, eggs, milk, sugar, salt and vanilla in a big ol' mixing bowl. Into the warmed oil, add the spices and stir to make sure there are no air bubbles. Whisk the spice and oil mixture into the squash until fully incorporated.* Set this filling mixture aside while you prepare the pastry.

*Most likely, the coconut oil will harden when it comes in contact with the cool ingredients in the pumpkin mixture, so our goal is to have it harden in small droplets that are evenly distributed in the batter.

Pastry:
1 tablespoon ground flax seeds
1/2 cup water
1/2 cup white rice flour
1/2 cup tapioca flour
1/4 cup garbanzo bean flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup coconut oil

Start off by soaking the ground flax seeds in the water and set aside. Combine the flours and salt in a heavy mixing bowl, then cut in the solid (room temperature) coconut oil with a couple opposing knives or a pastry cutter. Press out the biggest chunks with a fork against the side of the bowl, so that the flour and oil mixture resembles a coarse cornmeal. Add the water and gently incorporate it into the flours until you draw the mess together into a ball of dough.

This is where you'll start to doubt your measuring, or my recipe--it may be very sticky, perhaps unlike any other pastry dough you've made. It's ok though; do your best to gently mix the dough into a uniform texture and then paint/spread it thinly onto the inside of tart tins or tart ceramics or, if you must, pie plates.

Fill the tarts until there is just 1/8 of an inch of exposed pastry, pop 'em in the oven and bake at 375 ˚F until the exposed pastry becomes golden, about 30-55 minutes, depending on the size, shape and material of your baking dish.

Well friends, I wouldn't have expected it, but its been over a year since my ode to hot sauces at my old blog, and it seems the sauces making their way out of my kitchen have come a long way. Last week I shared my long time favorite green salsa, Creamy Tomatillo Salsa, and this week, we're looking at a Halloween-y habañero.

 A friend introduced me to this bright orange habañero sauce and recipe, which he found nestled among other gems, I'm sure, at the self-respectingly self-deprecating, refreshingly unfrilly blog, foodpeoplewant.com. As long as you're into the heat, this sauce is the whole reason to keep eating whatever you put it on. Also, it was modeled after the ubiquitously loved habañero sauce by Portland's own Secret Aardvark, which is kind of saying a lot.

I adapted the recipe by dialing down the sugar in exchange for amping up the carrots and adding a yam. Also, less water means we can add less vinegar; and why bother with prepared mustard when we can go straight for some vibrant mustard seed powder? The end result is just as sultry, with a little more body, for folks who aren't shy of heat that you can slather on.

Scary Good Habañero Hot Sauce (GF, vegan)

1 can (14.5 oz) of diced tomatoes, including juice
1 cup apple cider vinegar
2 cups of peeled and grated carrots (packed into the measuring cup)
2 cups of finely diced white onion
2 tablespoons mustard seed powder
1 1/2 cups shredded Yam
9 habaneros, seeded
1/2 head garlic
2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon of black pepper
2 teaspoons curry powder
1/4 c honey (or sugar)
1 cup of water or just enough to cover

Throw all of the ingredients in a pot and simmer for 2-3 hours until all the veggies are soft and the flavors are well mixed. Unceremoniously, throw this thick soup into a blender and let 'er loose--blending to your liking. Jar it up and share with friends!

I haven't yet had the good fortune to have too many tomatillos, but I look forward to the day when it happens.  I'll delightedly rush out to buy some canning jars and savor the opportunity to use my sister-in-law's simple, brilliantly delicious and family-famous tomatillo salsa recipe. (My talented mother offered up the recipe to the collective consciousness at the blog of the charming, family-owned myownlabels website, if you're interested. What rad ladies, my mom and sis-in-law are, really.)

Happily though, I've always had just the right amount of tomatillos to make a certain amazing fresh tomatillo salsa, the recipe for which fortuitously accompanied my first handful of the sour green fruit. Thus, the arc of my relationship with tomatillos, is embedded firmly in this creamy, spicy sauce. While this is the only tomatillo salsa I've ever made, it's among the best I've ever tried, which is a testament really only to the recipe. Whenever I share this salsa, I'm always, always asked for the recipe and told this is someone's new favorite green salsa.

The real game-changer here is the avocado, which means that you'll have to eat it within a few days--not a difficult task. The sauce is flavorful, yet light, and tasty on pretty much anything, so it's never really around long enough to shift away from it's bright creaminess.

Creamy Tomatillo Salsa

1/2 dozen tomatillos, outer skins removed and washed
2-3 jalapeño or serrano peppers, whole, but with stems removed
1 small onion or 1/2 large onion, roughly diced
1 large avocado or two small avocados
juice of about 1 lime, to taste
1-2 teaspoons salt, to taste
1 bunch of cilantro, washed and roughly chopped

Combine the tomatillos and peppers in a pot and just barely cover with water.* Boil until the skins of the tomatillos burst open and allow to cool slightly while you prepare the onion, avocado, lime, and some salt, placing them all into a blender. Pour the tomatillos and peppers, along with the water they boiled in, into the blender and pureé until smooth, adding more salt or lime to taste. Once you've got the sour-salty-creamy balance is just right, add the cilantro and pulse until the dark green leaves are incorporated but not pulverized. Works best if used fresh (uncooked) to accompany just about anything; chips, rice & beans, enchiladas and chilaquiles are the first to spring to mind.

*Heat is so hard to control with fresh ingredients. If you're not the type to roll with the pepper punches, you can boil the peppers separately and add them a little at a time to the blender mixture until you get a heat that you're comfortable with.

Well, friends welcome back to the school year, and the start of another blog year!

It was a dinner party that Ryan and I hosted for his family last Sunday that expedited the return of Sweet Allium. Not one, but two (two!) family matriarchs asked for my quiche recipe, and when a matriarch asks for a recipe, there's only one thing to do: blog about it.

Quiches have been a staple of my school lunches for years now, for a handful of reasons. They,

• are full of healthy fat and protein to keep hungry students full for the day
• are a great way to hide greens in your food
• take roasted veggies really well, packing the fiber and phytonutrients into the diet
• taste great with anything you're into at the moment--any protein, any vegetable any cheese
• can take on any flavor profile, Thai, Indian, tex mex, Italian, herbs de provence, the flavors of your backyard, etc.
• won't spill and leak in your bike bag
• can be made deliciously dairy free, gluten free, or both...or neither

Because quiche is so delightfully adaptable, I'm including a generic recipe for a 10-incher, but below that is the quiche requested by the matriarchs.

Any Old Awesome Quiche (GF, dairy free, vegan, or not)

1/2 recipe of either of the pie crust recipes here at Sweet Allium (gluten free dairy free, or traditional) or a shell of your favorite pie crust
3/4 cup shredded cheese (optional)
2 cups cooked vegetables (or protein); fried, roasted, boiled, you know, whatever you and the veggies decide is best
1 cup uncooked greens
5 eggs
1 cup almond milk (or any kind of milk)
1/2 teaspoon salt
herbs and spices

Evenly distribute the cheese into the in the uncooked pie shell, followed by the cooked veggies, and lastly the uncooked greens. Whisk together the eggs, milk, salt, herbs/spices and slowly pour this mixture over the greens in the pie shell. Fill the shell so that the level of the egg is 1/4 to 1/2 inch below the inner rim of the pie shell. Bake at 350˚F until the center is dry to the touch, about 35-45 minutes.

Early Fall Chanterelle Quiche (GF, vegetarian)

1/2 recipe of gluten free dairy free pastry crust
3/4 cup shredded extra sharp cheddar
1/2 fried red onion
1/3 lb shredded and dry fried chanterelles
stems of 3 large beets chopped and fried
greens of 3 large beets chopped
5 eggs
1 cup almond milk
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon fresh ground pepper

Evenly distribute the cheese into the in the uncooked pie shell, followed by the chanterelles, then the onions, the beet stems, and lastly the uncooked greens. Whisk together the eggs, milk, salt, nutmeg and pepper and slowly pour this mixture over the greens in the pie shell. Fill the shell so that the level of the egg is 1/4 to 1/2 inch below the inner rim of the pie shell. Bake at 350˚F until the center is dry to the touch, about 35-45 minutes.

After bringing home this week's version of my beautiful weekly harvest from the Winter Green Farm CSA, I found myself in a slight panic. The produce was so beautiful, and barely fitting into the fridge. On top of that, our kitchen for two hadn't yet finished the harvest from the week before. We were on an unsustainable path, I'm sure a familiar one for many a CSA customer. Produce with more vibrance and promise than this city-dweller ever sees in a supermarket vegetable slowly waned in the fridge.

I am absolutely not complaining--this is an undeniably wonderful problem to have--but one that does send me straight into a frenzy to do right by the produce, semi-frantically stuffing vegetables into every nook and cranny of any given meal.

Thankfully I'm not alone in this huge task. My sweetie, Ryan, unwittingly inherited this blessing and responsibility when we moved in together two weeks ago, and so far has served as loyal cheerleader, reliable eater and occasional chef. I'm also pleased to have a captive audience in my sister's family, who just welcomed a new baby boy and seem to be up for any food-help they can get. Cha ching! More mouths for veggie eating!

I made this bake for everyone a couple days ago but didn't pay super close attention to the amounts of ingredients so you'll have to excuse my wishy washy recipe. Like a pizza it's cheesy, but unlike pizza, it's not too cheesy; like a quiche it's got lots of veggies, but without the requisite, cumbersome crust; like a scramble, it's eggy, but with a little less egg and without the "I'm a breakfast food" attitude. Also, as a huge bonus, it doesn't stick to the baking dish at all. Come to think of it, maybe I just described the glories of a fritatta. Anyway, it's delicious. Here's the recipe:

July Veggie Bake (GF, vegetarian, low lactose)

• Cups and cups of sliced summer squash and onions, salted and mixed with olive oil • A few handfuls of cashews
• Beet and chard stems, chopped and sautéed
• A half dozen eggs whipped with almond milk and salt
• A chunk of cheddar cheese, shredded; reserve some for topping
• A healthy bunch of chard and beet greens without stems, chopped

In a big baking dish, distribute the squash mix, cashews and chard stems. Into the egg mixture, combine some of the shredded cheese and all of the greens and pour over the veggies in the baking dish, spreading the greens evenly. Bake at 325 ˚F for the better part of an hour, checking on its progress periodically. Before the greens get too crusty, sprinkle the remaining shredded cheese on top and bake until your wily instincts tell you it's done, or until there is no liquid in the center.

As a side note, I also put up our outdoor lights this week and felt pretty dern accomplished afterward. An impromptu dusk photo shoot highlighted the dream we are living: my kombucha fermenting in oak, Ryan's vintage turntable (thanks Papa!) and our sweet outdoor patio.