Gluten-Free Persimmon Waffles

I’m busy getting Dots stuck between my teeth while Gene Wilder cracks boob innuendos (“NICE. KNOCKERS.”) in Young Frankenstein so… I’ll scurry. Today’s appropriately orange fare is one lightly spiced persimmon waffle, made from almond and oat flours out of deference to my xGFx friends. A waffle for persimmon lovers and persimmon ambivalents. A waffle that, to quip my mom, “could use some nuts.”

Consider this a final YAWP from my corner of the internet for MoFo 2012. Thanks for reading or enjoying or commenting or considering any of the three. I admittedly puttered out toward the end (thanks new job), but I plan on continuing to waffle through November.

Halloween, make yours candy-happy!

Takes 20-30 minutes
Makes 3 Belgian waffles

3/4 persimmon puree from 3-4 Fuyu persimmons
3/4 cup almond flour (I used Trader Joe’s brand)
3/4 cup oat flour (I used Bob’s Red Mill brand)
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp nutmeg
1/2 tsp allspice
3/4 tsp salt
1 cup coconut milk (the drinking kind) or other non-dairy milk
1/4 cup oil
2 T evaporated cane juice or other vegan sugar
3 tsp Ener-G egg replacer*
4 T water*

2. Make your persimmon puree first. Take your roughly chopped persimmons and commence persimmon v. food processor war. You are beating these fruits to a pulp, you culinary bully, you. I pureed 4 persimmons for a good 10-15 minutes, scraping the sides dutifully, until I was left with this virtually chunk-less puree.

Use leftover persimmon puree in oatmeal, smoothies, and cookies; I’ve found it subs well for pumpkin in baked goods.

1. In a large mixing bowl, sift together the flours, spices, and salt thoroughly. In a smaller mixing bowl, whisk or vigorously “fork” together the coconut milk, canola oil, persimmon puree, and sugar. In an even smaller bowl, whisk together the Ener-G egg replacer with the water and mix into the other liquid ingredients. Add wet ingredients to the dry and combine gently.

2. Pour 3/4 to as much as 1 cup batter onto a pre-greased waffle iron. Cook according to your waffle iron’s instructions. I cooked mine a minute longer than my usual 5. Remove gently with a fork as these are ever so fragile! Serve with vegan butter, agave nectar, jam, or whatever you prefer to mingle with your waffles.

*Sub flax seed eggs for the 2 Ener-G eggs if it pleases you.

She Finally Posted Something! Sunday: Fresh Coriander Lentil Waffles with Avocado

Fresh coriander (cilantro), jalapenos, ginger and whole lentils headline this waffle matinee. While these were protein-erific (love them lentils!), the symphony of flavors fell flat with an anticlimactic thud. If this were the VMAs, the coriander would be Taylor Swift glancing sideways in expected glory and the jalapenos, thunder-stealing Kanye. Avocado, symbolic cape fluttering in the wind, saved the day as ever, complementary and cooling against the spice.

As for the recipe? Won’t share, wouldn’t dare. I do so ever fear the blogosphere kibitzing; also, coriander-haters.

Pear, Chocolate, & Cashew Cream Wafflewich

I fully endorse dessert as a meal replacement. With enthusiam, I eat my kale-a-day, attack my mixing bowl salads with B-12 flakelettes (nooch-addicted!), and gleefully wolf down my morning oatmeal. But sometimes you are in the mood for Foodstuffs Most Innutritious and when that sometimes becomes today times you might just try this wafflewich on for gluttony. Leftover VWAV Ginger Pear waffles*, ripe slices of Bartlett pear, agave-sweetened cashew cream, and semisweet chocolate chips to establish decadence. If I were to open my own vegan gourmet wafflewich-erie (à la Bruxie of my Orange days), I would first grin toothlessly until acrimonious onlookers threw rocks and, more saliently, this sandwich would headline the menu.

As this was my lunch, I followed it with carrot sticks with Siracha. Let’s attribute it as just one flounder in an ocean of vegan idiosyncrasies.

*Burnt, you query? Burnt ‘n tasty, I answer.

Pomegranate Waffles

I am about to bust open the seams of food blogging perfectionism: many recipes fail.

This morning, de-arilling pomegranates, magenta juices veining down my arm’s crevices, I imagine myself a Martha (from The Handmaid’s Tale) shucking peas; I am zen. A bubblegum pink froth gurgles in the food processor’s depths; a few moments later, strained and pulp-less. Nutty oat flour and pomegranate juice combine to create a lilac batter, tangy and semi-sweet when licked from a curious index finger. Once poured the batter expands spherically, as if by magic, hugging every labyrinthine crevice of the fast-descending waffle iron. Five minutes tick away on the piggy timer as steam jigs throughout the kitchen–yes, it is time. Opening the iron a half-inch, the waffle top refuses to retire from its iron (I make pun!) embrace. With a fork, I salvage the waffle’s disintegrating structures and look woefully upon the tattered result. Hole-ridden. Torn. A no good-dirty-rotten-pig-stealing-great-great-waffle-failure.

So here’s to the kitchen failures: unplanned, unphotogenic, underappreciated.

Still, not as injurious as when I cut a deep gash into the palm of my hand on my second night in Paris. At the corner pharmacie, I did a uncanny “tree falling” impression on a reading glass trolley when I fainted upon removal of my makeshift napkin bandage. The bulbous scar rubs my keyboard to this very post.

Any kitchen flops you’re keen to brag about? Me and my floppy waffles are all ears.

Battered Tofu & Waffles

Missing from the post title is some veganized bastardization of the word “chicken.”  As someone who sincerely believes that word choice affects culture, I wish more vegans would honestly christen entrees without compulsion to commit complimentary orthographic war. Any American who’s scanned the veg*n frozen food section knows to what I refer: “Chick’n,” “mylk,” “cheeze.” This is but a small sample of  the teeming world of vegan portmanteaus and winking quotation marks. For exclusive access to the blogger’s cut of this mini-rant, click on.

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Kale Garlic Waffles

Like all vegans I weekly stare into my vegetable crisper, willing limp tendrils of kale to cook themselves beyond a monotonous garlic and olive oil sauté. Kale waffles deftly solve such quotidian vegan-world problems.

I fear The Bitter so I only pureed a cup of kale to add nutrition and technicolor without evoking memories of grassy kale-grit smoothies. Know that these verdant pretties pack a garlic wallop: my mother haughtily turned on the fan to rid the kitchen of garlic stench after cleanup. Using one jalapeno I barely detected any spice, so others similarly capsaicin-addicted will want to add up to 3 jalapenos depending on your masochistic tolerance.

Ironically, I still have oodles of kale left. Ideas?

Takes 20-30 minutes
Makes 2 1/2 waffles

1 cup kale, very tightly packed and stems removed
3 cloves garlic
1-3 jalapenos, diced
1 1/2 cups almond milk
1 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
1 1/2 tsp ground cumin
2 T coconut oil

1. In a food processor or blender, puree the kale, garlic cloves, jalapeno(s), and 1 cup almond milk until no large chunks remain. A Vitamix or Magic Bullet is ideal to get a completely smooth end product, but I used an ancient food processor and it was still quite tasty.

2. Preheat waffle iron. In a large mixing bowl, sift together all-purpose flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and cumin. In a medium mixing bowl, mix the contents of the food processor (or blender) with the remaining 1/2 cup almond milk and coconut oil. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry and mix gently until combined.

3. Pour whole cups of batter onto the waffle iron and cook according to waffle iron’s instructions. Mine took 5 minutes. These pair well with (Veganomicon) cashew ricotta and sliced fresh tomatoes. Siracha and caramelized onions would also be excellent.