Feliz Sans Yeast

Mint and Basil: Cool It Down

2009-09-03T22:20:00.000-07:00

It's been 90+ degrees every day for the last week in L.A. The Angeles National Forest is burning, covering the city in a veil of ash, which really isn't helping matters. Unfortunately, for yeast-free foodies such as myself, relief can't come in the form of gelato, an iced blended mocha, or a cold noodle salad. So, I've turned to my air conditioner -- power bills be damned -- and my favorite cooling herbs: mint and basil.

I love combining mint and basil into a pesto to eat with lamb, but this week I used the herbs in separate, complimentary dishes: basil-pesto-marinated turkey breasts along with a mouthful of a Greek dish, "kolokythakia me dyosmo," which basically means "baked zucchini with mint."

The pesto for the turkey breasts is yeast-free friendly. I use a load of fresh basil, sunflower seeds instead of pine nuts (which aren't OK until phase 3 of the diet), and good-quality olive oil. Marinating the turkey (or chicken, if you please) keeps it extra juicy and flavorful, and the sunflower seeds in the pesto give the breasts a nice sort of crust. The zucchini -- first fried and then baked -- are so luscious paired with fresh mint and crumbled goat cheese that I don't want to make the vegetable any other way now. Here I am grumbling about the heat of summer's last hurrah, but I'll feel downright wistful when the coolness of fall finally takes grip, and my squashes and herbs disappear from the farmers market.

Fresh Basil Pesto
adapted from From the Earth to the Table by John Ash
2 cups firmly packed fresh basil leaves
Two garlic cloves, peeled
3 tablespoons roasted (unsalted) sunflower seeds
1/3 cup olive oil (can substitute oil of choice)

Plunge the basil leaves into a pan of boiling water for 5 to 10 seconds. Immediately drain and plunge into a large bowl of ice water to stop the cooking and set the bright green color [Note: you'll be thankful you did this, really. Your leftover pesto won't turn brown by the next day.]. Drain and squeeze out excess water. In a food processor or blender, combine the basil, garlic, sunflower seeds, and oil, and puree.

Pesto-Marinated Turkey Breasts
4 boneless, skinless turkey breast tenderloins (about 1.5 lbs)
Fresh basil pesto

Marinate the turkey in the pesto 4-24 hours. Preheat oven to 375. Place the breasts in a baking dish and pour the extra marinade over them. Bake for 35-45 minutes, checking for doneness.

Kolokythakia me Dyosmo
Baked Zucchini with Mint
adapted from Nancy Gaifyllia for About.com

1.5 pounds zucchini
4 tablespoons fresh spearmint leaves, slivered into pieces
1/2 cup crumbled goat cheese
2 cloves of garlic, crushed (optional)

good quality olive oil (or other oil of choice)
sea salt

Preheat the oven to 375 (unless the oven is already hot for the pesto turkey). Trim the ends of the zucchini and cut in 1/4 inch thick slices top to bottom. In a small bowl, combine the goat cheese, garlic, and mint leaves, tossing gently with a fork. Saute the zucchini in the oil until soft, browning the edges slightly. Place in a shallow ungreased baking dish, one slice next to the other. Sprinkle with the cheese-garlic-mint mixture and bake 30 minutes.

Spinach and Carrot Butter Mash

2009-07-10T21:03:00.000-07:00

With the bounty of summer vegetables at the farmers market, like heirloom tomatoes, eggplant, and squash, it may be hard to get excited by carrots, a year-round standby, right now. But I've found summer carrots to be particularly sweet -- refreshing cold and raw on a hot July day, or satisfying as a summer-sunset-colored accompaniment to the main course when cooked.

Tonight I'm making spinach and carrot butter mash, the answer to yeast-free eaters' cravings for, say, creamed spinach. Most creamed spinach recipes call for lots o' cow's milk cream and flour to thicken the dish, no-nos for those suffering from yeast distress. In this dish, some organic butter and cooked, mashed carrots stand in for the creaminess. The sweetness of the carrots is a perfect balance to the earthy, wilted spinach. It's great as a side dish for steaks. It's also akin to an Indian vegetable curry and would be tasty alongside some spiced, grilled chicken.

Spinach and Carrot Butter Mash
from Easy Vegetarian (Ryland Peters & Small)

1 lb. carrots, peeled and chopped
6 tablespoons butter (you can reduce the butter to lighten the dish as desired)
8 oz. spinach, chopped if desired, about 2 cups
sea salt and freshly ground pepper

Cook the carrots in a saucepan of lightly salted boiling water for about 20 minutes, or until tender. Drain well.

Return the carrots to the pan and put over low heat. Steam off the excess water, stirring frequently, for 2 minutes.

Remove the pan from the heat, add the butter salt, and pepper, and and mash the carrots well. Return to heat. Add the spinach to the mash in batches, stirring until wilted. Serve immediately.

St. Patrick's Day, Minus the Guinness

2009-03-18T22:35:00.000-07:00

OK, so St. Patrick's Day isn't exactly a friendly holiday for those eschewing yeast. Let's face it: it's a beer-soaked bacchanal with no room for the yeast averse at the pub. Luckily, there's still room for us at the table. Irish cuisine is actually quite suited for those cleaving to meat and veggies. There's Shepherd's pie, bangers and mash, and of course the quintessential corned beef and cabbage. If you can pass up the temptation for Irish soda bread and a Guinness, you can still partake in the Irish pot of culinary gold. I celebrated last night with an uncured corned beef purchased at Trader Joe's. Preseasoned with peppercorns, bay leaves, and other spices, it only hits shelves around St. Patrick's Day. It's super easy to make: just put it in a pot, cover with water, bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and let it cook until fork tender (2 1/2-3 hours). I paired it with some of those gingered carrots and roasted asparagus for the requisite touch of green. Who knew boiled beef could be so tasty?

Ginger: Sweet Heat

2009-03-16T23:52:00.000-07:00

When you eat such a limited diet like this anti-candida regimen, flavor is the key to avoiding boredom and staying on the wagon. Sweet-spicy ginger is one of my favorites in my arsenal of herbs and spices. In the health realm, it has anti-candida properties and promotes healthy digestion (see my article on the health benefits of ginger on Gayot.com). In the taste realm, it ramps up the flavor of dishes and lets your taste buds travel to exotic locales including Asia and the Middle East.

Tonight, I grated up a good chunk of the knobby root and used it in two complementary recipes.

Yogurt-Marinated Grilled Chicken
(adapted from an LA Times recipe for chicken kebabs)
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1/2 cup Fage 2% (or other brand) Greek yogurt
1 tablespoon grated fresh ginger
2 cloves garlic, pressed
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1 tablespoons olive or canola oil
1 teaspoon salt
1-1.5 lbs pound boneless, skinless chicken breasts, pounded flat

In a large bowl, combine the lemon juice, yogurt, ginger, garlic, cumin, coriander, salt, and oil. Add the chicken to the bowl and coat well with the yogurt mixture. Cover and refrigerate 2-4 hours (or longer for even more flavor)! Cook on an outdoor grill or in a stovetop grill pan as desired.

Gingered Carrots
(adapted from Screen Doors and Sweet Tea by Martha Hall Foose)
1 bunch medium carrots (approximately 10), peeled and 1/8-inch thick sliced on the diagonal
4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) unsalted organic butter
1 teaspoon caraway seeds
1 tablespoon freshly grated ginger
1/2 teaspoon dry mustard
1/2 teaspoon salt

Bring a large saucepan of salted water to a boil. Add the carrots and cook until slightly tender, about 4 minutes. Drain well.

In a large skillet over medium heat, melt the butter. Add the carrots, caraway seeds, ginger, mustard, and salt. Cook and stir for 6-8 minutes, until the carrots are fully cooked and glistening.

Look Mom: Brussels Sprouts

2009-02-14T22:53:00.000-08:00

I'm still fighting off the strep throat tonight and hoping to vanquish it with vegetables. It's such a shame that fruits and juices are verboten in the initial phases of Dr. Trowbridge's diet, especially those of the citrus persuasion. When you're sick, all you want to do is reach for some orange juice. Alas, since I couldn't do that tonight, I turned to Vitamin C-rich Brussels sprouts.

As a child, and for a good portion of my adult life, I was alarmingly veggie averse. I'd eat artichokes and green beans, but that was largely the extent of my repertoire. Cabbage-y vegetables like Brussels sprouts and cauliflower hovered at the furthest reaches of my vegetable willingness. As my mom can attest, it was unthinkable in my younger years that I'd actually grow to tolerate these cruciferous creatures, let alone like them.

This whole yeast-free eating experience has radically altered my vegetable eating ways. Today, I enjoy just about any (permissible) vegetable under the sun (except maybe peppers -- they make me burp pepper taste for hours afterwards ) and couldn't survive without copious amounts of veggies each day. Cooked the right way, Brussels sprouts are now like candy to me.

I can credit Chef Neal Fraser at BLD with opening the Brussels sprouts door for me. I order them with the "Self Constructive" dinner (you can design your own combination of protein and vegetables). Roasted and caramelized, they're a heavenly accompaniment to the grilled organic Rocky Jr. half chicken (insert mouth watering here).

Tonight, I opted to combine the mini-cabbages with some cauliflower for a potent (and delicious) cruciferous punch to my infection. The result:

Roasted Brussels Sprouts and Cauliflower with Rosemary and Garlic

1 lb. Brussels sprouts
1/2 head of cauliflower
2 springs of rosemary
3 garlic cloves
3 tablespoons olive oil

Preheat oven to 450. Prepare the Brussels sprouts by removing the tough outer leaves (dark green) and slicing off the tough ends. Cut each sprout in half lengthwise. Cut the cauliflower into bite-sized florets, and thinly slice each garlic clove. Run your fingers down the sprig of rosemary to separate the leaves from the stalk; chop well. Put the sprouts, cauliflower, rosemary, and garlic in a bowl and toss with the olive oil. Spread on a baking sheet. Roast 20-30 minutes, stirring halfway through, until vegetables are nicely browned (be careful not to burn).

Leeks: Cold Weather Comfort

2009-02-13T22:06:00.000-08:00

A frigid night, at least by L.A. standards, and I'm home sick with strep throat. My food cravings have been weird all day. In spurts I'll feel feverish and completely averse to food, but then all of a sudden a rumbling, near paralyzing hunger will grip me. I guess it's just my body trying to fight the infection, needing fuel for the fire at turns. When hunger hits, though, I'm craving comfort food -- mac 'n cheese, a bowl of rice with butter, English muffin with jam. Basically, carbs that go down easy. On this diet, of course, there's no such thing.

So, tonight, I opted for my best approximation of cold-weather, coated-throat comfort: a leek tart. Leeks are strange creatures. They sure look like green onions on steroids, but their flavor is much more subtle. Beyond potato-leek soup, I never knew quite what to do with them until Molly Wizenberg in Bon Appetit offered up a recipe for what she calls "leek confit," basically sliced leeks made soft by a lot of butter and a little slow cooking. The result is divine -- the leeks have an earthy, peppery flavor with the consistency of buttered noodles (who needs mac 'n cheese?). Here's the recipe:

Leek Confit
(from Bon Appetit)
1/4 cup (1/2 stick) unsalted butter
4 large leeks (white and pale green parts only) halved lengthwise, cut crosswise into 1/4-inch-thick slices
2 tablespoons water
1/2 teaspoon salt

Melt butter in large pot over medium-low heat. Add leeks; stir to coat. Stir in water and salt. Cover pot; reduce heat to low. Cook until leeks are tender, stirring often, 20-25 minutes. Uncover and cook to evaporate excess water, 2-3 minutes.

The confit would be great as a side dish (Molly recommends serving it alongside salmon or scrambled eggs), but I wanted it to be the main attraction, so I folded it into a tart of my own devising. It's sort-of a crustless quiche of eggs, yogurt, and vegetables. I've made this before with spinach, but the leek filling is now my favorite. If you can tolerate cow's milk cheese, sprinkle some shaved or grated parmesan on top for a golden, bubbly finish. It pairs well with some mild sausage (I like Shelton's Italian Turkey Sausage links, which are studded with fennel seeds). Voila! Comfort food sans yeast! Now if only my throat would cooperate...

Leek Tart
2 large eggs
1 7 oz. container Fage 2% (or other brand) Greek yogurt
1 teaspoon coarse sea salt
Leek confit
1 tablespoon unsalted butter, softened
2.5 oz. grated parmesan (I like Trader Joe's Shaved Grana Padano Parmesan)

Preheat the oven to 375. Crack the eggs into a large bowl and beat with a wire whisk. Add in the Greek yogurt and whisk until smooth. Add the sea salt and the leek confit and stir with a spoon until blended. Grease the bottom of a pie pan with the butter and pour in the leek/egg mixture. Top with the grated parmesan. Bake until the eggs are set and the top is golden, 25-30 minutes. Let cool a bit. Slice and enjoy.

Welcome!

2008-11-02T20:42:00.000-08:00

Feliz Sans Yeast -- a quirky title for a quirky situation. Let me break this down a little bit. Feliz = "happy" in Spanish (pronounced Fe-LEES, almost rhymes with yeast) . Sans = "without" in French. Yeast = those little unicellular fungi responsible for making bread rise and fermenting grapes into wine (and for wreaking havoc on my poor little body -- more on that soon).

So, yes, in essence, the name of my blog is "Happy Without Yeast." But I think adding in the French and Spanish words makes it sound altogether more intriguing and vaguely gourmet. Plus, I'm tickled that I found a word to rhyme with yeast, even if it's a bit of a stretch.

In any case, now that that's behind us, you might be wondering "Why are you happy without yeast? And, why are you even thinking about unicellular fungi in the first place?" Let me tell you, I wish I didn't have to. It's and long and wending tale, but here's the compressed version.

I'm a writer who loves food. About four years ago, I decided to put these things together and launch a career as a food writer. But just as I was setting out, fate struck a cruel blow.

Somehow (most likely at my gym), I managed to pick up a skin infection called MRSA (which stands for methicillin-resistant staph aureus, if anyone cares). Basically, it's a nasty microbe that's resistant to pretty much all mainstream antibiotics.

So they loaded me up with some powerful stuff, a nuclear weapon of sorts called Zyvox. I was on it for only 10 days, but it has completely altered the course of my life. During those 10 fateful days, the drug turned my insides out -- I was running to the toilet five times a day. Antibiotics can often screw with your gut (I didn't know about probiotics back then), but usually everything settles back down to normal once your finish the course of medication.

Not with Zyvox. I never returned to normal. It induced a fairly miserable state of irritable bowel syndrome that I spent the next three years trying to control. I went to uber-specialists at Cedars-Sinai Hospital in Los Angeles. I spent thousands of dollars on diagnostic tests. No one could find anything "wrong" with me or do anything to ease my symptoms. I was told to reduce my stress level and eat lots of fiber. Um, not the most helpful.

I had all but given up hope when I stumbled upon a book called The Yeast Syndrome by John Parks Trowbridge, M.D. His theory was the first one that made sense of everything I'd been through. Antibiotics, as he explained, kill off bad bacteria in your gut. But they also kill off good bacteria. In the absence of these good critters, yeast -- which normally reside in the gut in small numbers -- proliferate and take over. Ladies, if you've ever had a vaginal yeast infection after a course of antibiotics, you know what I mean.

Yeast (otherwise known as candida) can do lots of nasty things if they grow in your body unchecked. They can induce irritable bowel symptoms. They can cross out of the gut and into the blood, resulting in chronic fatigue. Some even believe that candida are responsible for diseases like MS and autism.

When I started Dr. Trowbridge's "Yeast Control Diet" -- which eliminates all dietary sources of yeast and sugars that nourish yeast -- I felt like a normal human being for the first time in years. I also began taking probiotics and "candida cleanse" supplements to help purge the invaders from my body. As long as I stick with this regimen, life is pretty good.

But here's the catch: the yeast control diet is like a death knell for a food writer. I can't eat any foods that contain yeast, so bread, pasta, cakes, and pastries are all verboten. And I can't drink wine, or any alcohol for that matter, since yeast is the catalyst in fermentation (this eliminates vinegar, too). To make matters worse, pretty much all carbohydrates -- sugar, potatoes, grains, and fruits -- are fuel for yeast, so I can't have any of that good stuff either. Cheese and milk from cows are also pretty much off the list. And soy. And coffee and chocolate. And sushi (can't risk the parasites). Are you feeling sorry for me yet?

What else is left? Protein and vegetables. I'm living "la vida" hunter-gatherer. I can eat most any protein -- chicken, beef, turkey, pork, fish, eggs -- and most any veggie. Herbs, spices, and teas are all allowed. Goat cheese is permitted. And I have copious amounts of yogurt because it contains all that good bacteria like L. acidophilus that battles the yeast. And that's all, folks! It's a low-carb, sugar-free, (basically) dairy-free, wheat-free, gluten-free life for me.

The good news: I lost a boatload of weight and have never felt healthier. The bad news: it's really put a crimp in my food writing career.

I remain a devoted foodie who continues to write restaurant and cookbook reviews, but there's now a glass ceiling on how far I can go in mainstream food writing. A writer who eschews bread, wine, fruit, cheese, and chocolate has no place among the elite of culinary scribes.

But I'm also a home chef who has refused to let my limitations curtail my gourmand aspirations. I've learned to create within the restrictions, and I daresay I've stumbled upon some amazing dishes. I've started this blog because I don't believe "gourmet" and "yeast-free" need to be mutually exclusive entities. I want to share my recipes and experiences for others dealing with such dietary restrictions. Plus, with all my food writing experience, I know a thing or two about the best restaurants in Los Angeles to feed your yeast-free wanderlust. Most of all, I want to celebrate the arts of writing and cooking.

Am I truly "feliz sans yeast" (happy without it)? For the most part. Sometimes I get a little bitter (okay a lot bitter) about having to forgo so many of life's culinary goodies and having to deal with the inconveniences of keeping this diet. But I'm just so grateful for my health and the pleasures of what I CAN eat. So, Bon Appetit Sans Yeast!