roasted rhubarb parfaits with coconut yogurt and cacao nibs

A few days ago, while sitting around the table at my favorite Parisian restaurant with a group of talented creative types from around the globe, I was overcome with the urge to reach under the table and pinch myself. Nothing dramatic. Just a small gesture to ensure I wasn’t at home in my bed dreaming this whole scenario into reality. 

Lately, I find it hard to believe that my life is my life. I’m not saying I don’t have days where I gnash my teeth in frustration with the world. Or feel completely uninspired. Or disappointed with myself. Or angry at the flabbiness of my upper arms. (On my worst days, I feel all of these things simultaneously.)

But on this particular day, in this particular restaurant, in front of the most ethereal lemon tart I’ve ever tasted, I felt a rush of pleasure and satisfaction wash over me. Followed by a wave of incredulity that my life includes things like trips to Paris and creative collaborations with people whose work I admire and light-as-air lemon tarts.

Three years ago, when I decided to leave a business venture I’d poured myself into, I cried every day for a month. My business partner and I, to put it mildly, did not see eye to eye. After months of stress and conflict and feeling like I couldn’t be myself at work, it was time to bow out. 

When I wasn’t crying, I was filled with anger and resentment. And fear. How would I earn a living? What would I do next? Would I be able to re-invent myself or would I end up a crazy cat lady living with my mom until I was old and grey? To open that business had been my dream for years and it had utterly imploded. These were some dark days. 

But somewhere in the middle of the anger and hurt and sadness and fear, a tiny seed took root. A vision for the future and what sort of work I could find fulfilling began to take shape. I started teaching cooking classes again to regain a sense of connection with my community. I bought a camera and learned to use it. I started this blog. Finally, I worked up the courage to pursue another dream of mine--leading culinary tours abroad to share my favorite cities with others. Along the way, I’ve gotten married, bought a house in a vibrant neighborhood I love and forged new friendships. 

Sitting at that table in Paris, I couldn’t help thinking this was the sort of lemons-into-lemonade moment that makes life a wonderment. I wouldn’t have found myself at that table without the soul-bruising experience of leaving my last business. I’d likely still be working long days and trying to be someone I’m not, instead of traveling and discovering my love of photography and meeting inspiring humans all over the world. (I certainly wouldn’t be drinking nearly as much amazing French wine!)

In the spirit of turning lemons into lemonade, I give you this roasted rhubarb parfait. After a cake recipe I was working on turned out to be a total failure, I took the leftover roasted rhubarb and swirled it into some yogurt, then scattered cocoa nibs over the top for crunch. It was infinitely better than that cake.

This version also has coconut, vanilla and honey for depth of flavor. For those of you facing uncertainty, self-doubt or fear of what the future holds, I hope it serves as a little reminder that we never really know what lies ahead. And that often the lemons (or crappy cakes or career setbacks) life sends our way lead to something far more rewarding than we ever could have imagined.

---

Roasted Rhubarb Parfaits with Coconut Yogurt and Cacoa Nibs

• 1 vanilla bean
• 1 lb rhubarb (about 6 medium stalks), trimmed, halved lengthwise if thick, and sliced about ⅓-inch thick
• 8 oz (1 pint) strawberries, tops removed and diced about ⅓-inch thick
• 6 tablespoons honey, plus an additional to taste
• Pinch salt
• 2 cups plain greek yogurt (I used Ellenos yogurt)
• ½ cup coconut cream (I used one 5.4 fluid oz/160 mL can from Native Forest)
• 1 cup unsweetened flaked coconut
• 6 tablespoons cacao nibs (I like Theo cacao nibs best)

*Notes: For a vegan version, use plain greek style coconut yogurt. If using coconut yogurt, you can omit or cut back on the coconut cream.

- If you can’t find coconut cream, buy a can of coconut milk and place it in your fridge until cold. Open it, pour off the liquid (reserve for another use) and use the thick coconut cream that remains. 

- These parfaits can be made in advance and stored, covered, in the fridge for a couple days. When I did this, mine set up and had an almost cheesecake-like consistency, which was delicious! If you go this route, I recommend adding the top layer of coconut and cacao nibs just before serving to add a little extra crunch.

Split the vanilla bean in half lengthwise and scrape out the seeds with a paring knife. Place the seeds in a medium bowl along with the rhubarb, strawberries, 6 tablespoons of honey and a pinch of salt. Stir gently to combine and set aside for 20 minutes. While the fruit is macerating, preheat the oven to 400 F. 

Spread the rhubarb and strawberries out on a parchment-lined sheet pan along with their juices. Roast until some of the rhubarb is falling apart and the juices have thickened to a syrup-like consistency, about 25 minutes. Set aside to cool completely.

Place the yogurt in a medium bowl and add the coconut cream. Whisk to combine well. Whisk in honey to taste. (The amount will vary depending on how tangy your yogurt is--I used 2 tablespoons.) Place a couple tablespoons of the coconut yogurt in the bottom of 6 small (4- to 6-oz.) glasses. Spoon a tablespoon or so of the roasted rhubarb over the yogurt and top with some of the flaked coconut and cacao nibs. Repeat the layering process one more time, then serve.

Makes 6 servings.

shrimp and cauliflower grits with hot sauce butter

This week, I have a not-so-secret secret for you.

You might have noticed a fair number of gluten-free and/or low sugar recipes hanging out on the blog lately. This is because Beau and I have been undertaking some dietary self-experimentation over the last few months.

As someone who cooks and eats for a living and who doesn’t exactly have skinny genes coursing through my DNA (do genes course?), figuring out how to eat without gaining weight has been an ongoing struggle. Add all the pastry tasting during my culinary tours and you have a closet full of very tight clothes.

On a recent flight back from Paris, I ended up watching a documentary about the staggering amount of sugar in our food these days. Which led to me reading this book about why people in industrialized countries keep gaining more and more weight. 

I should pause to say that I am hugely skeptical about fad diets. But the more I read, the more the science seems to point to the crazy amount of sugar and carbohydrates in the modern diet. 

So Beau and I decided to cut the amount of sugar and carbs we eat way back. For the last four months we’ve eaten a lot of protein, a lot of (mostly green) vegetables and a good amount of fat. Let me be honest: I did not fully expect this to work. But we figured we’d give it a go and see what happened. 

To my surprise, we both feel much better eating this way. We have more even energy throughout the day (no more afternoon slump!), we don’t feel hungry all the time (no more afternoon grazing on sugary snacks!) and we’ve both lost weight.

Because what food you put in your body is a deeply personal choice and because I cannot abide proselytizing in any form, I would not dream of telling you how you should eat. But it was starting to get a little awkward eating one way at home and posting recipes that don’t represent that here on the blog.

Honestly, I feel a bit silly discussing the details of what I do and don't eat (the intricacies of one's diet being among the most boring topics known to man). But this is a food blog. And it’s a blog about trying to live a beautiful, balanced life. So it felt relevant. If anyone has fallen asleep in their soup (gluten-free or otherwise), please forgive me.

By no means will every recipe I post on here be gluten-free, low-sugar or low-carb. I still believe that no food should be 100% off-limits: If I want a slice of chocolate cake or toast with jam for breakfast, I’m going to have it. I’m just trying to make it more of an occasional treat than a daily occurrence!

So, with that out of the way, this week I invite you to try: Shrimp and Cauliflower Grits with Hot Sauce Butter. It's creamy, plenty spicy and just the sort of hearty breakfast (or lunch or dinner) chilly days require. It's the kind of comfort food we all crave from time to time. Happily, it's also quite adaptable. Feel free to leave out the bacon for a pescatarian dish. Up the mushrooms and ditch the meat if you're a vegetarian. Use good old-fashioned stone ground grits if you like. It's up to you. As ever, I want you to make this recipe your own.

Also, I'd love to hear back if any of you have tried out a low-carb or low-sugar diet. Love it? Hate it? Got any tips? Drop me a line in the comments below.

xo,

Olaiya

---

Shrimp and Cauliflower Grits with Hot Sauce Butter

• 1 large head cauliflower (about 2 lbs), trimmed, cored and cut into roughly 1-inch pieces
• 1 cup heavy cream
• 2 cups water
• 5 tablespoons unsalted butter (or olive oil), divided
• 1 teaspoon freshly-ground black pepper
• Sea salt, to taste
• 6 oz sharp cheddar cheese, or to taste
• 4 slices thick-cut bacon, diced
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 6 oz cremini mushrooms, thinly sliced
• 6 green onions, green part only, sliced into rounds
• 1 lb medium or large shrimp, peeled, tails removed and deveined if desired, and patted dry with paper towels
• 4 teaspoons hot sauce (such as Tobasco), or to taste
• Splash lemon juice, optional

First, make the cauliflower grits: Place the cauliflower in a food processor and pulse until it is about the size of couscous grains. Make sure not to over-process the cauliflower; you want to leave it a little course to replicate the texture of grits. If your food processor is on the smaller side, you might need to do this in batches. 

Spread the processed cauliflower out on a large plate or platter and microwave for 8 minutes, stirring once about halfway through. Alternately, you can cook it on the stovetop: bring an inch or so of water to a simmer in a deep pot large enough to hold a fine mesh sieve or a colander lined with cheesecloth. Transfer the cauliflower to the sieve or colander and set it over the simmering water. Cover and steam until the cauliflower has softened but still retains its texture, about 5-8 minutes.

Place the cooked cauliflower in a kitchen towel and wring as dry as possible. You want to remove as much water as possible from the cauliflower so it can soak up the cooking liquid and seasonings. Fluff the cauliflower with a fork to break up any clumps (you should have about 4 cups) and place it in a large saucepan or stockpot. Add the cream, water, 2 tablespoons of the butter, the pepper and a generous pinch of salt. Cook over medium heat until the butter has melted and the cauliflower has started to absorb some of the liquid. Reduce the heat to low and stir in the cheese. Continue to cook, stirring often, until the cheese has melted. Reduce the heat to low and cover the cauliflower grits while you prepare the shrimp.

To make the shrimp: Sauté the bacon in a large skillet over medium heat until just crisp. Remove the bacon from the pan with a slotted spoon and set aside. You want about 2 tablespoons of fat left in the pan. If you have excess, pour it off. If you don’t have enough, add a little butter or olive oil. Add the garlic and sauté until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Add the mushrooms and green onion along with a pinch of salt. Cook until the mushrooms are tender and starting to turn golden, about 4-5 minutes. Remove from the pan and set aside. 

Raise the heat to medium-high. Add the remaining 3 tablespoons butter to the pan. When it has melted, add the shrimp along with a pinch of salt and sauté until the shrimp are almost cooked through. The time will vary depending on the size of your shrimp. To check for doneness, remove a shrimp from the pan and cut it in half. You want the inside to be slightly translucent. The shrimp will continue to cook off the heat and be cooked through by the time you serve them.
 
Remove the pan from the heat and add the hot sauce. Stir to combine. Taste and adjust the seasonings. (You can add a splash of lemon juice if your hot sauce isn’t very vinegary.) 

Divide the cauliflower grits among serving bowls. (If they are thicker than you would like, add a little water to the pot to loosen them. if they are too loose, cook them a minute or two longer over medium-high heat, uncovered.) Top with mushrooms and shrimp. Sprinkle the bacon over the top. Serve immediately, passing additional hot sauce alongside.

Makes 4-5 servings.

gluten-free almond pancakes with honeyed oranges and pistachios

Here’s a fun fact about me: I’m a pathological perfectionist.

We’re talking self-flagellating, obsessive, crazy-town style perfectionist. Can’t-sleep-at-night, panic-attack, stomach-ulcer style perfectionist. Or at least I used to be until pretty recently.

I grew up in a household that, while it never felt poor to me, never felt quite abundant either. I always felt loved and cared for, but there was a lot of coupon-cutting and bargain hunting. There were big bricks of government cheese. We lived in a trailer park for a while. Add to that the fact of growing up bi-racial in a tiny, rural town in Illinois in the early 80s (mine was the only brown skin for miles and miles), and you’ll understand the intense fear of judgement I felt as a kid.

Being good at things, or rather, being PERFECT at EVERYTHING!!! became my mantra and my armor. It got me out of the sleepy midwestern town I grew up in. It made me the second person in my family (after my mom) to attend a 4-year college. Hell, it got me into Yale. 

It gave me the courage to move halfway around the world with $200 in my pocket and build a life in a foreign country. To be honest, that perfectionistic, never-good-enough, you-can-do-BETTER! drive served me in many ways.

But lately, perfectionism, with its attendant anxiety and insomnia and sense of insecurity have started to wear on me. I no longer want to forgo sleep in order to get a project I’m working on just right. I’m not interested in motivating myself out of fear. I’ve discovered that falling on your face can be a valuable form of instruction. 

Also, trying to be perfect (or even good) at everything is exhausting. It doesn’t leave enough time for laughing and snuggling and lazying around on Sunday afternoons.

Old habits die hard though. And despite my best efforts to chill the eff out, I can feel those old, hard-wired tendencies creeping in, triggered in part by the chaos of our recent move to a new house.

Which is why I have undertaken a new project. A sort of re-programming, if you will. (The irony of having an official project to work on being less perfectionistic is not lost on me, in case you were wondering!) Instead of rolling out of bed and into a day of doing, doing and more doing, I now do something nice for myself every morning. I take a bath. I read. I cuddle my cat, Loulou. I watch Crazy Ex-Girlfriend on Hulu. I make myself pancakes. 

I cook up a stack of these fluffy beauties, brew myself a latte and sit down at the kitchen table with no phone and no computer and enjoy the morning sun streaming in the window.

I don’t always want to take the time for this new ritual. But most days, I do it anyway. And I’m happy to report it’s working. I’m not going to say my perfectionism has gone into full remission. But there’s something in the act of pausing and taking a moment to be kind to myself rather than punishing or demanding that sets each day off on a better footing.

Who knew the path to self-acceptance would be paved in pancakes?

---

Gluten-Free Almond Pancakes with Honeyed Oranges and Pistachios

• 2 cups orange juice, preferably fresh-squeezed, strained
• 5 teaspoons mild-flavored honey, divided (optional)
• ½ teaspoon ground cardamom
• 4 medium oranges (I used cara caras)
• 1 cup heavy whipping cream
• 6 large eggs
• 6 oz cream cheese
• 2 cups almond meal
• ¼ cup plus 2 tablespoons whole milk or half and half
• ½ teaspoon almond extract
• ¼ teaspoon cinnamon
• ¼ teaspoon ground ginger
• 2 teaspoons baking powder
• Butter, ghee or high-heat oil for cooking pancakes
• ½ cup roughly chopped pistachios (roasted or raw)

*Notes: As you may have noticed, I'm trying to eat a lot less sugar and simple carbs. But I don't want to assume everyone else is, too. So the honey in this recipe is completely optional. If you're used to eating a relatively low-sugar diet, you can leave it out. If you're in the mood for a sweet treat, leave it in. You can even add a touch more if you like. :)

- If you can’t find almond meal, make your own. Place almonds in the bowl of a food processor or blender and process until they form a fine meal. You will be able to get a finer meal in the blender. Adding a tablespoon or two of sugar will help keep the almonds from turning to almond butter.

Place a sheet pan in the oven and preheat the oven to 200° F.

First, make the orange syrup. Place the orange juice, 2 teaspoons of the honey (if desired) and cardamom in a small saucepan. Bring to the boil over high heat, then lower heat and simmer until reduced to 1/2 cup (use a heatproof measuring cup to check). Set aside.

Slice the skin and pith from the whole oranges then cut them into rounds about ¼-inch thick. Place in a heatproof bowl and pour the slightly cooled syrup over the orange slices. Set aside.

Place the cream and one teaspoon of honey (if desired) in a large bowl. Whip the cream to soft peaks. Set aside in the fridge until you’re ready to serve the pancakes.

Make the pancakes: Place the eggs, cream cheese, almond meal, milk (or half and half), almond extract, cinnamon, ginger, baking powder and remaining 2 teaspoons honey (if desired) in a blender. Blend at high speed until the batter is smooth and homogenous, stopping occasionally to scrape down the sides of the bowl, about 1 minute. 

Heat a 6-inch nonstick skillet over medium heat. Add about 1/2 teaspoon butter (or ghee or oil). When the butter has melted, pour about ¼ cup of the batter into the center of the pan. I usually just pour straight from my blender. You want to pour enough batter for a roughly 5-inch pancake. Cook until the pancake puffs up and there are bubbles in the center, about 45 seconds. Flip and cook until the other side is golden brown, about 45 seconds longer. Transfer the cooked pancake to the sheet pan in the oven. Carefully wipe out the pan with a paper towel and repeat until all the batter is cooked.

Makes about 16 small or 8 large pancakes.