Nothing like a cookie recipe to take the edge off the election tension this week. And this one is delicious, autumnal, and clean. Inspired by Short Girl Tall Order vegan blog, I morphed the recipe into a grain-free and lower-glycemic version.
This recipe has some steps to it, but homemade is always worth the extra time and effort.
Since I love cookies fresh out of the oven, I make a few at a time and keep the dough in the back of the refrigerator, which, tightly covered, keeps for several weeks.
Hope you try – this little cookie project is a great alternative to watching the news!
Ingredients 1/2 cup melted coconut oil, melted. (I made these with unrefined coconut oil and the coconut flavor was overpowering, and I’m a huge coconut fan! You’re better off using unsalted butter or refined coconut oil) ½ cup pumpkin puree ¾ cup coconut palm sugar (similar in flavor to brown sugar, only better!) 1/4 cup monkfruit sweetener (all-natural and measures like white sugar) 1 3/4 cups almond flour 1 teapsoon salt 1/2 teaspoon baking soda 1 bag chocolate chips (I prefer Hershey’s sugar-free)
Instructions: Add melted coconut oil or butter, pumpkin puree, and sugars in a mixing bowl and whisk until smooth. Add 1 cup of almond flour and whisk until smooth. Add remaining ¾ cup of almond flour, salt, and baking soda. At this point, the dough will be sticky and thick so it’s best to switch to a wooden spoon or sturdy spatula the rest of the blending.
Fold in the chocolate chips until evenly distributed. Cover cookie dough with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 1 hour or overnight.
Preheat oven to 325 and cover a baking sheet with parchment paper. Place tablespoon-sized mounds of cookie dough on the sheet, leaving at least three inches of space in between. Flatten each mound with a spoon so it’s no longer dome-like. Bake for 13-15 minutes, or until edges begin to brown. Let cool for at least 10 minutes before removing with spatula.
As one who has been on the metaphoric battlefield for most of my life, I harbor a significant amount of scars, and I’m not referring to the stretch marks which were embedded at age 11. I’m talking about the intangible remnants in the wake of school bullies, disapproving and disappointed parents, food scarcity from forced dieting, emotional demons, and the ensuing result of all of the above: excess weight. This physical symptom of my emotionally turbulent life has caused much scorn to be heaped upon my body. From me, those close to me, total strangers, and the ever-looming, constantly leering dieting industry with its amoral empty promises and a litany of insidious ways to practice self-hatred.
Many of you know my weight-release journey began from within. There are plenty of past blog posts, as well as my books which attest to this. I dropped a significant amount of weight more than 11 years ago, the end result of healing my inner wounds. It was an exhilarating time of freedom and discovery. What I didn’t know until recently was, there’s more to be healed. Significantly more. But that’s life and I’m not upset by this news. On the contrary, if there are more layers of the healing onion to be stripped away, let ’em rip. Still, I was shocked when I got the revelation – straight from the source: my body, who it turns out, knows more than I ever imagined. It is ever attendant to what is, and ever the receptacle for what has been, including trauma. Including every unkind word and thought I’ve sent it: Thoughts of the self-loathing variety which, culturally, were not only accepted 20+ years ago but encouraged. Growing up, I routinely heard adult women berate themselves for enjoying food, or for not having a body that fit the standards of acceptability. If you couldn’t be a good girl and look the part, you could at least redeem yourself with regular self-flagellation. Sound familiar? If it is, my deep sympathies to you and your amazing body. As one who had no fear of self-inquiry, I was well aware of the toxic dynamic women and young girls are subjected to. But I thought I’d eradicated the damage with years of positive affirmations, self-help books, and therapy. I made progress, to be sure, but discovered there’s more road to hoe. And the thing about our own personal onion is, we have no knowledge there’s another layer to be peeled until the moment it reveals itself.
My latest revelation came after some unignorable messages from my body in the form of pain, fatigue, weight gain, and low-energy. Eventually, blood tests revealed autoimmune irregularities. I’m treating the physical symptoms with medication and nutrition, but in my gut, I knew more needed to be done. So I underwent four hypnosis sessions to dig deeper. The answers, as always, lay in the underappreciated splendor of the body. It wasn’t just trying to get my attention, it was screaming for it and it was time, I finally realized, to give it the time and respect it deserved. Sitting down with pen and paper, I asked for answers, promising to both listen and follow through with whatever might be requested of me. What had my body been wanting to convey to me with the symptoms of pain and fatigue? There’s always an emotional corollary to disease and I wanted to uncover mine. The answers flowed, as if my body had been waiting eagerly for the dialog. I’m sharing the exchange because I encourage you to undergo a similar dialog with your best friend and closest ally. And even if you’re not on great terms now, making the time to really listen, followed by a resolve to make reparations is a fantastic beginning. Here’s to diving in, making amends, and knowing you are not alone.
What follows if my body’s response to me:
“I cannot carry it anymore. The pain of betrayal. You have betrayed me so many times, and I am here to serve your existence in this reality. I am your host, you are my guest. You have not been a gracious guest. You have hurt and ignored me in so many ways.
Acknowledging that you were influenced by the collective and had horrible messages from the start, it still hurt me. The decision you made, the beliefs you adopted about me, about us, they wounded me deeply and I have never done anything but serve you and work for you and love you and make you comfortable here.
You, in turn, turned on me. Be grateful my woundedness and discontent are only manifesting as pain. There are far worse outcomes as you know – you have seen some of them. At a certain point, we break, we are only able to tolerate so much disrespect and mistreatment. Then it is time to close the shop.
I am equipped with a strong will to perpetuate your life, but if you don’t do your part, it’s ultimately a losing battle. I can’t do it anymore the way things have been going. Like the USA, reparations and acknowledgements need to be made. You did what you needed to do to survive a horrendous childhood where you were not loved adequately, respected, and affirmed, but the fact is, I suffered greatly from your neglect, from your toxic thoughts and beliefs, from the hatred from you and others.
I need for this to finally be heard. I need to be truthful with you. The way you treated me hurt me deeply. We have made progress, but I don’t trust you fully. Trust is everything in a relationship. Everything. Then respect. But there can be no respect if there isn’t trust. Every unkind thought, every bout of food scarcity, everytime you hissed at me in disapproval hurt me so much.
I came to you as a precious creation of Divine Intelligence. We were best friends for the first few years, then, the war began. I know you were under cultural influences, but the sad part is, I am your authority and guiding light – not TV, magazines, parents, or classmates. I Am the one who can guide you to wholeness and happiness. But you must have the courage and willingness to step out of the cultural trance and see the lies and manipulation. So you have gained weight – so what? Are you going to let a sick and unwhole culture influence and degrade you? Perhaps the weight is a teacher. There is gold to be mined in this new phase, but only if you align with me and NOT outside influences who conspire to keep you weak through shame and preoccupation with perfection.
But first, before we can fully align, I need you to acknowledge my sorrow at your betrayal. At listening to others before me. Please sit with this, not as punishment – I never punish – but as a healing process.
Please, please, please listen to me. That is all I ask. Hear me. Trust me. Honor me. I don’t have it in me to let you down, but I will eventually break down from lack of love, from a severed connection. Please wake up to the Truth and return to me.”
Taken utterly aback, the first thing I did was apologize. I was and am truly remorseful for jumping on the hate band wagon and being so unkind to my body. Secondly, I am agreeing to dialog regularly, appreciate often, and listen intently to my body’s needs, whether it’s for food, movement, or rest. No request it too frivelous. There’s a lot of making up to do and I must say, it feels very right.
Post-Script – a few insights I got, post-writing:
Instead of the automatic response of ‘something’s wrong with my body,’ switch to ‘Something needs tending, or Love.’
I blamed you (body) when the appropriate thing to do is Thank my body.
I abused my body because I was scared and abused.
I chose to look at you as the source of all my misery. You are the source of my connection to life.
And further revelation from my body: Hear me, don’t steer me.
Who’s hungry? I almost forgot today is National Mac & Cheese Day! In its honor, I give you a clean and worthy version, one that won’t cause bloating, cramping, emotional fog and all the other attendant vagaries that can occur on a post-gluten and dairy adventure.Back in the old days, the descending of a cloying and debilitating fog is precisely what I was after. Food was a salve, escape, and distraction from all that I refused to acknowledge. I actually am quite grateful for all those cans of Franco American macaroni and cheese I hastily zapped to an acceptable state of warmth in the microwave. I’d become adept at zeroing in on the perfect number of seconds required. Too soon and it would still be cold. Too long on the timer and the noodles were too hot to touch, and THAT did not fly for someone whose wellbeing hinged on instant gratification.Overeating to cope is a multilayered problem with multi-layered solutions. Sure, clean eating and exercise went a long way, but on their own, those two techniques would have been unsustainable without a prolonged focus on inner-healing and a commitment to keep that garden tended for a lifetime. For more on that, I recommend my book, “The Untended Soul,” because if you don’t pay your soul first, life just won’t work the way God intended.In the meantime, feed yourself kind thoughts and good food. Hope you enjoy Chef Bill’s re-imaginging of one of my favorite comfort foods!
…and I promise they taste good! Actually, there’s one-more accolade to add to the description – these cookie bars are also egg-free as well. It’s been a minute since I’ve gotten back to my test kitchen and concocted a new dessert recipe. A combination of boredom and a craving for something soft and sweet prompted the quest.
For years now, I’ve loved subbing white gluten-free flours with grain-free alternatives. My top two favorites: almond flour, and in this case, chickpeas! They’re wonderfully moist and their neutral flavor make it a blank canvas for alchemizing into a sweet or savory treat. I often make mock-bread with them, especially during pesto season. Sometimes, the garbanzos get transformed into a delicious, low-glycemic dessert, like my Strawberry Shortcake recipe. Most recently, I turned three cups of cooked chickpeas (also known as garbanzo beans) into a delicious dessert.
These bars bear a strong resemblance to my Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip Cookie Bars from 2015, but with a few differences. These have no eggs, a decision I made based on advice from health experts due to autoimmune issues. I still love eggs and will never give them up completely, but when I can, I find ways around using them. Another difference: cashew butter. I ADORE it and its silky texture is ideal for baking. As always, I choose a variety that’s unsweetened and non-hydrogenated. There’s enough natural oil in cashew butter to not need any additional fats. I was skeptical as to how they’d turn out minus eggs. Turns out, they’re not needed for this one, and the textural results are soft, dense cookie bars with a slight bent toward cookie dough. If that doesn’t appeal to you, bake them for an additional ten minutes.
These bars are lovely to look at and even lovlier to eat. And they won’t spike your blood sugar and you’ll actually have done something nice for your body.
When Chef Bill saw this recipe prepared on the PBS cooking show, Milk Street, he was instantly inspired to reinvent it a bit into a healthier version that uses coconut palm sugar instead of brown sugar, lean beef instead of pork, and brown rice instead of white.
He’s a lifelong fan of Asian cuisine and knew the recipe would be a knock-out. He was right. This dish is an edible kaleidoscope of flavor profiles, an aromatic treat that’s as delicious as it is easy to prepare.
This isn’t a quickie, 15-minute meal. There’s prep time involved. But I’ve learned to befriend the process because when I’m doing the prepping and not a factory, it always bodes well for my body.