Flour Power: Not Your Usual Brownies, Plus Some Encouragement

True story: I've been working with alternatives to wheat flour for many years now. I do this to provide something a bit more nutritious for myself, as well as create options for friends and family who need to avoid grains, either out of desire or by necessity. I've made these coconut flour brownies in the past, and they're very good. And recently, I spotted this grain-free brownie recipe online, and definitely wanted to try it!

I already had almond flour on hand (you'll remember those grain-free/egg-free chocolate-chocolate chip cookies from last month), and just needed eggs and some chocolate hazelnut spread to pull the whole thing off. After all, with only three ingredients, how hard could it be??? Of course, when the day came and the time was right, I gathered my loot and reviewed the recipe, only to notice a few minor details:

* I had a little more than half the amount of chocolate hazelnut spread as called for, but no worries - I'd just make half a recipe in a smaller pan.
* I had, inexplicably, bought jumbo eggs.
* I remembered, also inexplicably, I had about a Tablespoon of coconut flour left rattling around in the pantry.

The first two anomalies gave me more liquid in proportion to the dry called for in the recipe, but the third gave me the ability to correct for it - not to mention, use it up without letting it go to waste! I was confident (and greedy) enough to proceed, and dumped my ingredients, plus a bit of salt for balance, into a bowl and began to stir:

The batter came together, I set it in the oven to bake, and you know what? It worked! Fudgy, gorgeous brownies - nutty, chocolatey, and divine. I was grateful I had some experience with these ingredients under my belt, and didn't need to scratch the project completely. So, even though I didn't really follow a recipe, or even develop a new one, I still wanted to encourage you with this thought: cooking and baking with alternate flours is like any other cooking and baking. Once you get to know the ingredients and how they behave, you will be able to adjust as needed if circumstances aren't going quite to plan. If being grain-free is something you'd like to explore for any reason, don't be afraid to do so. I've created a new tag here on the blog for "grain-free", so you can find those options quickly. As well, I wholeheartedly suggest browsing through some of my long-time favorite sites, including Elana's Pantry and Deliciously Organic - and, for more awesome treats like those brownies, The Big Man's World! Be open, be curious, and take full advantage of the resources available. Others have been generous in sharing their work so you can avoid disappointment in your own kitchen. And, most importantly, enjoy :-)

Notes: If you really want to make these exact brownies, here's what I did!

Grain-Free Brownies a la Oops

Ingredients:
13 oz. jar of chocolate hazelnut spread (you know the one, or an organic one!)
1/2 cup almond flour
1 Tablespoon coconut flour (alternately, increase the almond flour by two additional Tablespoons)
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
2 jumbo eggs (large or extra-large will still be fine)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Butter an 8x8-inch baking pan and set aside. In a medium bowl, stir together all the ingredients until fully combined, being sure to scrape the bottom frequently to catch and incorporate any dry bits. Let stand for a few minutes to allow the flours to absorb the liquid. Scrape the batter into your prepared pan and bake for 25-30 minutes, or until the edges are dry and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out with fudgy crumbs. Let cool for a while before trying to cut and serve (they will actually have more flavor the longer they are allowed to cool). Baked goods made with almond or coconut flour are more filling than their conventional counterparts - you may be pleasantly surprised by feeling satisfied after just one serving!

>o<

Fatal Attraction

This Summer, I've been fascinated by a thistle growing by my front porch - it's absolutely beautiful, but covered with so many needle-like thorns, it would fairly make a hedgehog jealous:

Thistles are edible, related to artichokes and cardoons, and have that same pleasing globe shape. The purple flowers are stunning, and have even attracted the local hummingbirds (not that I could get a shot of them):

But those thorns! Thistles have long been the emblem of Scotland, causing their enemy to cry out in pain, thus revealing their presence. I certainly would not want to tangle with them. Once the bloom fades, however, the resulting thistledown looks more like a shaggy dog's coat than anything else - talk about a bad hair day!

Eventually, I'm sure I will have to cut it down, and hope the majority of its seeds don't self-sow my home into a prickly fortress. But in the meantime, I get to enjoy its regal beauty, as its buds continue to bloom and attract pollinators of all kinds:

Anything lovely but dangerous growing in your yard, something that falls into the "look but don't touch" category?

>o<

Making the Cut

While it's not necessary to be cruel to be kind, sometimes your plants need you to make a number of decisive and judicious cuts throughout the season. Faced with just such a task the other week, I dreaded the process of pruning away some extremely dry blooms and scraggly stems that had needed my attention for a while. But now it really had to be done—the forecast was calling for even hotter weather than we'd had already, and I didn't want excess baggage drawing moisture and energy away from my plants. Thankfully, I realized I didn't need heavy equipment to get the job done. The old pair of scissors (relegated to the outdoor gardening basket long ago) and a ball of leftover cotton yarn would be enough for my needs:

And then I decided to make it more of an aesthetic project—the cuttings from the yarrow would make an outdoor bouquet, perfect in an all-weather tomato can. The yarn would be strong but gentle enough to help hold together the wayward stalks of some of the more tender herbs. I could even tie the yarn in a bow. In all, it was starting to be more of a jaunt than a chore, and I've had something lovely on my front porch ever since:

As is usually the case with things you dread doing, the whole project only took a short time. I targeted specific plants, cutting away just enough to ensure their health and keep their shape. Of course, there is plenty more that needs doing in the yard—tasks that genuinely deserve to be dreaded! But in the meantime, I can enjoy the tidy results of my trimming party, a reminder that a little effort can go a very long way:

>o<

Pro Bono

As I've mentioned before, there are always a number of things that volunteer themselves in my yard, as I'm sure they do in yours. They can threaten to overwhelm other plants at times, but mostly they are beautiful and useful in their own way. But last year, I noticed several other volunteers - plants that would usually need to be started from seed or bought as seedlings and planted on purpose, that instead had wonderfully decided to grow without my knowledge or consent. The trick was recognizing them for what they were, and letting them continue to grow and mature as needed. They have returned this year even stronger and more prolific, and all I had to do was leave them alone!

The most spectacular has been this columbine that decided to grow next to the mailbox. It was just a scraggly plant with a handful of buds and a few flowers last year, but now it's a dizzying array of blooms supported by a sturdy foundation of stems and leaves:

These classic little johnny jump ups have spread themselves out in front of the house, adding fantastic punches of color long before the other perennials in that area have had a chance to flower:

Although it hasn't started to blossom yet, this wonderful bellflower has produced several times more stems and buds this year, and I'm excited (and impatient) to see what it has to offer:

It's been a delight to watch these friendly interlopers, and I'm grateful they've chosen to grow and flourish in my yard. And if more decide to come and stay, that would be perfectly fine with me :-)

>o<

Every few months, I help a friend by volunteering as part of her "kitchen crew" to prepare a meal for families who have unexpectedly found themselves between homes. It's just a few hours of my time, doing something I already love, that hopefully provides a bit of relief and respite for those that need it. I always look forward to the next time I'm invited to participate, and disappointed whenever I can't make it! What are some of your favorite ways to volunteer your time and energy in your community?

Line Upon Line

As I realized the year was drawing rapidly to a close, I remembered there was one thing I had to make sure to do: write a fourth and final installment in a year of seasons on The High Line. Having started with Winter, then Spring and Summer, I made the trip in October to see my favorite reclaimed space in Fall. I took a LOT of photos - some good, some interesting, and some that were not so great! In truth, I was expecting lots of golds, yellows, and reds; but what I noticed as I reviewed the images was a consistent palette of greens, with many blooms in purples and whites. Asters were everywhere as one might expect at that time of year, like these lilac-colored twilight asters:

The striking blooms on this chocolate white snakeroot were like miniature pom-poms, and another example of the wonderful variety of plantings in the park:

Although not titled as such, the setting sun gave a lovely purple glow to this stand of pink muhly grass:

I thought the little white flowers of the wild spurge were charming on their delicate stems - even though the name sounds rather harsh!

I was delighted to discover the petals on this ironweed end in curlicues, and their color provided excellent contrast to the spent blooms around them:

One plant I looked for in particular was the wild quinine with their oddly rounded flowers, both interesting and unusual. And yes, the plant does contain quinine - gin and tonic, anyone?

There were many others, and many that I missed according to the monthly bloom list. But one I hadn't expected to see was the purple hyacinth bean, abundant with blooms and pods, carelessly twined around a railing:

I can't seem to get enough of this wonderfully unique place, and although this is the last post of the series, this is certainly not the last visit. There is always more to see, more to learn, and more to enjoy - both at home and abroad - and I look forward to continuing the adventure with you! So, until next time (and hopefully not too long from now), I wish you a peaceful, safe, and very Happy New Year!!!

>o<

In The Good Old Summertime

There is nothing like Summer, but it's a bit of a mixed blessing: on the one hand, it's SUMMER - the days are long, your spirit is free, and you're able to enjoy things you can only dream about doing the rest of the year. On the other hand, the weather can be so hot and humid, you may end up cowering in front of a fan or languishing in the cool embrace of your A/C, not daring to move at all.

The yard and garden experience this same conflict, and I'm struck by it every year. One minute, everything looks wonderful, but the next it's scorched and dry. Just a few weeks ago, the flowers in the edible garden were magnificent - the chamomile was sunny and bright, and made for a calming tea in the evenings:

The starry borage blossoms were striking on their tall, hairy stems:

And the nasturtiums were creamy and smooth, belying their peppery bite:

Then, somehow, things started to change, taking on a more barren and forlorn aspect. The echinacea in particular now looks like it was stuck in the oven too long. Even though it's painful to see, I won't cut them down until I'm sure the goldfinches have pecked every last seed out of those cones:

Conversely, weeds and other things seem to thrive and take over, like this luxurious pigweed by my deck. I can't help but admire how healthy it looks, and I almost (almost) hate to chop it down:

But there are some things that don't seem to care how hot it gets and, thankfully, they taste like sweet success. So I'm enjoying them while I can, because before I know it, these too will be just a delicious memory:

>o<

High Summer

This is the third in what will hopefully be a four-part series on The High Line. The first part can be found here, and the second part here.

Summer is definitely here and, a few weeks ago, I knew it was time to get back up on The High Line. I was a little anxious - it was going to be fairly hot and sunny, with the potential of being very uncomfortable, to say the least! Thankfully, the humidity was low and there was even a slight breeze, which was just about perfect for this trip. And, as usual, there were beautiful things to see right from the beginning, like this tangerine-hued butterfly milkweed:

Among numerous varieties of aster, this large specimen was playing host to a hungry butterfly of its own:

There were a number of echinaceas to enjoy as well, and they looked handsome planted together in large groups:

The foliage had definitely grown and filled in since Spring, and tracks that were easily seen before looked like a more jaunty and colorful rendition of when they were still abandoned:

As with previous visits, there were things I had never seen before, like the pointed and somewhat alarming buds on this compass plant, which bloom into quite innocent-looking yellow flowers:

And this rattlesnake master, with its milky blooms and open growth habit:

One of the best things bout The High Line is precisely its elevation. It gives even the most mundane objects a new perspective, like this skybridge calmly basking in the sunset:

It was a wonderful day, but I'll tell you a secret: I have a feeling that Fall might turn out to be my favorite time on The High Line, even though the other seasons have been tremendously enjoyable, too. I'm already planning my next visit - after all, it's just a few months away. And, as always, I hope I've convinced you to give it a go yourself, no matter what the season :-)

>o<

Flower Power

I have a number of plants and shrubs that flower throughout the Spring, Summer, and Fall. I enjoy them all, and they provide nectar for pollinators as well, which helps my garden. But there are a number of other "volunteers" that spread and grow throughout my yard, and they serve much the same purpose. So while some people may refer to them as weeds, and you do need to be careful lest they choke out other items you want to preserve, for the most part I give them free reign and let them do what they do best.

The first flowers I notice in the Spring are violets. Usually just one will open up to start, then the rest will follow within a few days. I find them everywhere, as they spread easily and persistently, but they are still beautiful:

Another favorite is this little flowering stem which, as of yet, I haven't been able to identify. But I love those delicate blooms and the dark indigo stripes at the base of each milky-white petal. They are so short, they usually escape the lawnmower completely:

I call these creepers bugleweed, which might not be correct, but the blossoms do have a bugle-like shape. Butterflies in particular seem to love those purple blooms, and while they tend to overrun things if they can, they are easy to pull back without having to remove them entirely:

And, of course, no lawn would be complete without "the yellow flower" :-)

>o<

Higher and Higher

This is the second in what will hopefully be a four-part series on The High Line. The first part can be found here.

As the days became increasingly warmer, and I could see the trees in my own yard start to bud and blossom, I knew it was time for my Spring visit to The High Line. Seizing an opportunity at the very end of last month, I set out to discover how things had changed since Winter:

Certainly there were the usual suspects to see - things like redbuds and other flowering trees, plus many varieties of crocus, daffodil, tulip, and other Spring harbingers. But in addition to this mix, there were some other things that were new to me, such as this serpent-like prairie smoke, both softly fuzzy and spiky at the same time:

One plant I'd read about, but never seen in person, was the strangely beautiful fothergilla, of which The High Line has several varieties:

The most intriguing little plant for me was this Indian rhubarb, which blooms in Spring from what looks like nothing more than a stick, and which will (I've read) eventually produce voluminous green leaves:

Because it was warmer, I was able to pay more attention to the non-plant installations featured on The High Line, such as this view-through design based on the Ghent Alterpiece, which creates a framework for looking out as well as looking in:

I also made sure the visit the Rail Yards, which I had missed the last time, with its dozens of train cars trailing into the distance:

There was a lot to see, and it was almost dizzying, but I'm still looking forward to my Summer excursion. I know there will be an abundance of things to enjoy. And so, with yet another promise of things to come:

>o<

Held in Reserve

As you've probably guessed, I'm a huge fan of public spaces that cater to human aesthetics while providing a habitat for plants and wildlife at the same time. Recent excursions have included Central Park and The High Line, both of which I loved immensely. Last month, I visited the Manasquan Reservoir, and it was just as inspiring:

This vast, open space was equal parts invigorating and calming - you can't look at all that water and be anything but relaxed! The thing that attracted me the most was how well human access was integrated into the natural setting. You can stay on the paverstone deck and walkway near the docks and boat launches, or you can continue around the entire perimeter along the rougher gravel trail.

In addition to its natural beauty and all the available activities, the reservoir does also function as a water supply for the surrounding area. However, it's so lovely, you'd never even know it:

Oh, and that wildlife I mentioned earlier? It's there, too :-)

>o<