hearty salads


Philly’s “pay what you can” restaurant offers new solution to food insecurity

  • 22% of all Philadelphians are food insecure. 
  • Enter EAT (Everyone At the Table) Café, a nonprofit, pay-what-you-wish cafe that opened in West Philadelphia in late October.
  • On the menu: three courses, including soup or salad, a hearty entree with a side and dessert, as well as a hot or cold beverage. 
  • Guests can pay the suggested price of the check, less, more (as a donation) or nothing at all. Read more

Rosie had heard all of the stories about old mister Bilbo coming home with boxes and barrels of treasure. He had been gone so long everyone had assumed he was dead, but then he had ridden into town with gold in his pony’s saddlebags.

She dreamed about Sam coming home, a feather in his cap, gold tucked into the sensible pockets on his sensible pants. She dreamed about Sam coming home. They made jokes in the Green Dragon about young mad Mr. Baggins, just like his uncle old mad Mr. Baggins, who had run off with three gullible youngsters and gotten eaten by wolves.

Rosie watched her mother during the occupation, the ways she counted curly heads, the way she canned vegetables and fruits, salted meats, then bound them up in cloth and tucked them under each child’s bed, in the hollow in the tree down the road, buried out by Miller’s Pond. Rosie watched her father walk the edges of the property, like he was stomping his ownership into it. He kept his pitchfork sharp. He was preparing to fight for his home and her mother was giving them a way out.

Pippin and Merry came back taller; they would bump their foreheads on low doorways all their lives. Frodo came back wiser; he would feel lost on the wind until the day he stepped onto a creaking deck and let it sweep him away. Sam came back; he had grown, for all miles and hunger had worn him down to the quick.

When Sam came home, there was a feather in Pippin’s cap, a horn on Merry’s hip. All Sam had was a box of dirt with one large, smooth seed tucked inside. Even in Mordor, Sam had only been fighting for the Shire. He spent the rest of his life helping things grow.  

Let’s talk about Sam crying over rabbit stew, because a brace of coneys had been a spot of luck, once; because even then, even when he still had his pots and his pans, when Frodo had not yet snarled at him and told him to go– Mr. Frodo had still been gone too far by then to ever come back again.

Rosie, who did not cry easy, chopped onions so he would not be the only one with wet cheeks to scrub off. She asked him about herbs and spices, about stirring and cooking times, about what loaf would go best with it all. Sam said, “Rosemary, tarragon.” Part of him still rang against the greening metal of a copper pot dropped down a chasm and left somewhere on the edges of Mordor, but she saw him breathe deep and reach for thyme.  

When they brought Frodo a bowl in the little study that had once been Bilbo’s, Frodo warmed his hands in the steam and chuckled when he recognized the smell. Sam pressed his cheek into Rosie’s curls and remembered that not everything was lost.

Sam came back different, but Rosie had not stayed the same either.

Some nights Sam couldn’t sleep on the bed. He laid out with a blanket on the floor and apologized for it. She checked the locks three times, and didn’t trust them anyway. If men came to the door in the night, smashed through the window, set the house on fire– she knew three ways out. She knew the path she’d take through the forests and little hills, two good places to cross the water and three mediocre ones, how to gather and set snares and never have to come back.

She also knew that she would come back. Sam had gone out and met the world, but Rosie had stayed here and staked her claim.

Between helping with the reconstruction, clearing out abused hobbit holes, planting new trees, raising her children, and managing Bag End, Rosie took tea into Mr. Frodo’s little study and let him tell her about his story. 

Some days he sat up, waved his hands, talked about Moria like it was Mr. Bilbo telling hobbitlings about the three trolls. On others he muttered about language and conjugation, dialects of Elvish, and Rosie learned words for things she had never seen. One of her sons would be named for Frodo, and one of her daughters Elanor, for a flower that grew on the floor of a forest no hobbits but four had ever seen. 

He told her about Faramir and Boromir–their adventures, and their family trees to seven generations back. Rosie scattered her younger children over his study floor on those long afternoons, where they got cookie crumbs and sloppy paint all over the sheet she’d lain over his soft carpet. 

It was a late night, the kids abed, when he told her about Mordor, about Gollum and the eagles, and how Sam had not given up, even at the very end. She had come down to turn over some marinade in the pantry and found the study light on, Frodo bent over his desk and scribbling. “I have to get it all down,” he said, and smiled at her unhappily. “Too tired right now to be scared of it all.“ 

So she got some cocoa and a heavy quilt for each of them, and stayed to listen to him mutter and scratch out lines. “Frodo Nine-Fingered and Samwise the Brave,” he told her. “We talked about how we were going to be stories, one day.“ 

When Sam came down the hall in the morning, his wife’s curls were pooled on the desk beside Mr. Frodo’s, inked pages scattered under their cheeks and curled palms. Sam had watched Frodo earn each and every white hair on his head, and he was learning the stories still behind each tired crease and laugh line on Rosie’s face. Sam leaned against the door frame and watched them breathe, in and out, until the kids came shrieking down the hallway and woke them. 

The day Frodo gave him the Red Book and left, Sam cried on the shores of the sea and watched him go. Frodo had sat Rosie down that morning, over a breakfast of two eggs, thick bacon, hearty toast, a little salad– he had told Rosie he was leaving and Rosie had already known. 

There were still burned scars on the soft fertile ground of the Shire. Some of them would never grow over, no matter how many seeds they scattered and watered. Rosie still had emergency kits buried in the yard, tucked in hollow trees down the road, kept under her children’s beds. 

But there were strawberries growing in her window boxes, even if on the worst days she wasn’t sure if they’d be there to harvest them in springtime. On those days, Rosie padded down to the pantry and got out little glass jars of strawberry preserves. So many springs had come and gone, and so many would come again. There were some things you could carry with you. 

Drop your pots, drop your pans–lose weight, faith, a finger–forget the taste of strawberries. There were little white blossoms waiting in the window boxes of Bag End to turn into blushing red fruit. Sam had carried Frodo to the end of his journey, and Frodo had given her this home. The spring would come. 

Sam came back with salt crystallized on his hems and the edge of his jaw. He came back with a red book under one arm–no gold in his pockets, no gems, just his two hands tucked and curled in the warmth of them. 

Their children would read Frodo’s book as they grew (Bilbo’s book, too, and those few words that were their father’s). They would not understand, not all of it, not at first. They would eat strawberries in spring and dream of Fangorn, dare each other to brave the Old Forest on the edge of the Shire. They would climb all over Merry and Pippin’s tall frames and beg to go with them when they went to visit the kings of Gondor and Rohan. 

Rosie would eat strawberries in the spring. She would make jars and jars of jam to keep for long winters. She would keep kits of supplies, for emergencies, for invasions, for the children of hers who had wanderlust in their bare, woolly feet. 

On nights when she could not sleep–too cold, too stuffy, too old–she would pad out to Frodo’s old study and sit among the books and things. She would read about places she’d never seen, languages she’d never heard. She would write her own notes down about the Scouring– the first little resistances, and the final front lines. She would trace her fingers over loving maps of the Shire, tracing the ways out, the places to hide, the ways back. 

When she woke in the morning, her cheek on the old wood desk, a blanket would be draped around her shoulders and Sam would be asleep in an armchair, just close enough to reach out and touch. 

© Christina Liva

Healthy Monday: This hearty salad of lentils, spinach, beets, avocado is the perfect storm of brain food goodness to keep you both sharp and satiated throughout the day. Flavor is amped up by cooking the lentils in broth and topping the bowl with a smooth and sweet walnut dressing and (best part) a coconut-fried egg.

Recipe: Brain Food Bowl with a Coconut-Fried Egg

Grilled Salmon with a Farmers’ Market Salad
For a hearty, summer salad that’s bursting with fresh, seasonal finds from your local farmers’ market, this healthy dish is about to be your go-to dinner. Topped with an simple grilled fillet of salmon and tossed in a light, citrus vinaigrette, this salad allows the fresh flavors of the produce to shine through. Substitute or add different produce items based on what’s in season and what you like. If you don’t have a grill, a grill pan can be easily substituted.

Serves 2


3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
1 tablespoon honey
1 teaspoon kosher salt
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 (6-oz.) salmon fillets
2 cups arugula
1 cup cooked farro
1 cup chopped watermelon
1 medium peach, chopped
½ cup chopped tomatoes (heirloom or beefsteak)
¼ cup crumbled feta cheese

Serrano Ham, Tomato and Cucumber Pasta Salad

Another warm day, another salad recipe! This Serrano Ham, Tomato and Cucumber Pasta Salad is hearty, refreshing and fragrant with flavors. Bon appetit!

Ingredients (serves 4):

  • 3 cups whole-wheat pasta
  • 1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
  • 1 cup mesclun
  • ½ cup cucumber, thinly sliced
  • 2 ounces Feta cheese
  • 2 slices Serrano ham (or other cured ham)
  • 6 large fresh basil leaves + more for garnish (optional)
  • 2 tablespoon olive oil
  • 1 ½ tablespoon Date Balsamic Vinegar

In a pot of salted boiling water, cook whole-wheat pasta according to package’s directions, generally 9 minutes until al dente

Meanwhile, in a large bowl, combine cherry tomatoes and mesclun. Halve cucumber slices and add to the bowl. Crumble in Feta cheese. Roughly chop Serrano Ham and basil and stir in as well. Set aside.

Once cooked, drain pasta and rinse under cold water to cool. Drain thoroughly again,  and stir into the bowl. Drizzle with olive oil and Date Balsamic Vinegar, and gently toss well to combine.

Serve Serrano Ham, Tomato and Cucumber Pasta Salad immediately, garnished with basil leaves, if desired, or chill in the refrigerator until serving time.

anonymous asked:

What are your favorite meals for bfast lunch and din?

Oh boy… hard to narrow down but breakfast I’d say chia seed pudding or gluten free pancakes w maple syrup. Lunch: I like to make tofu scramble burrito bowls w rice and beans, avo, salsa. I like making hearty salads with some type of grain, either quinoa or rice, lettuce of some sort and a bunch of chopped raw veggies. Dinner: Jona and I make a rad gluten free/vegan spaghetti bolognese using gardein’s ground veggie meat, daiya “mozzarella cheese” and a lot of vegan parm :)


Keeping up with the sugar snap peas

Some of the pea plants are now seven feet tall and we’re constantly eating peas, trying to keep up with the pounds that are of a harvestable size every day. Easily half of them are consumed outside, straight off the vine. I pick the rest of them daily and pack them in lunches and work them into our meals. This has been the annual routine for decades.

I found this beautiful recipe from a magazine called “Simply Schnucks” while we were visiting the Midwest last month. We bought so many groceries one day at a Schnucks grocery store, they threw the magazine in for free. I loved the vibrant colors in this salad, and was excited that it included radishes, carrots, and peas – all fresh in the garden right now.

This is a delicious, healthy salad. The only change I made was to substitute hearts of romaine for the kale. You could easily add some diced chicken to give it a bit more protein. It made for a hearty lunch yesterday.

Rainbow barley salad, a recipe a modified slightly from the Summer 2016 Simply Schnucks publication. It makes 4 main dishes, or 8 sides.


  • 1 cup uncooked quick barley (I couldn’t find “quick” barley, so I cooked ¾ cup pearl barley, per the package directions)
  • 2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
  • 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
  • 1 tablespoon whole grain mustard
  • 1 garlic clove, minced fine
  • 1 teaspoon honey
  • ¾ teaspoon kosher salt
  • ¼ teaspoon fresh ground pepper
  • 8 ounces (about 3-½ cups) sugar snap peas, ends trimmed and cut in half (I blanched mine first)
  • 2 cups shredded kale (I substituted shredded romaine lettuce)
  • 2 large carrots, shredded
  • 6 radishes, quartered lengthwise
  • 1 (3 ounce) log chèvre cheese (goat cheese) crumbled


Cook barley per label instructions and rinse under cold water. Drain thoroughly and set aside.

In a large bowl, whisk together vinegar, oil, mustard, garlic, honey, salt, and pepper. Add peas, kale, carrots, radishes and barley. Toss until well combined. Serve with chèvre. Makes about 8 cups.


  • I cut this recipe in half and it worked perfectly
  • The chevre is pretty strong, so I used less than directed.
How to make an avocado, prawn and mango salad with sweet mango lime dressing

A hearty, main-course salad of ripe avocado, sweet mango and fresh meaty Honduran king prawns marinated with lime leaves. Cook the prawns in a pan on your hob or sizzle them on the barbecue for a bank holiday treat.

Ingredients (serves 2)

For the marinade

7 lime leaves, finely sliced

¼ teaspoon salt

1 tablespoon rapeseed oil

¼ teaspoon black pepper

¼ teaspoon red pepper flakes

For the salad

10 raw Honduran king prawns

Juice of 1 lime

1 large avocado

½ medium mango

½ medium cucumber

2 little gem lettuces, shredded

For the dressing

1 tablespoon crème fraiche

½ small red pepper, diced

1 tablespoon of your favourite sweetener, or to taste

1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar


To make the marinade, put the sliced lime leaves and salt into a mortar and pestle and grind to a fine paste, mix in the oil, black pepper and red pepper flakes. Put the prawns into a bowl, pour over the marinade and mix to coat, leave to one side.

Squeeze the lime juice into a small bowl. Halve the avocado and remove the stone. Using a melon baller, scoop out balls of avocado flesh and drop into the lime juice, swirl around to totally cover the surface of the balls, this will prevent them from discolouring.

Halve the mango and remove the stone. Using a smaller melon baller, scoop out balls from one half of the mango, scrape the remaining flesh from the skin and put into a small jug to use in the dressing. Mangoes are quite high in carbs so only using half for the whole recipe will cut down the total carb count. The remaining half of the mango can be skinned, diced and frozen for use another time.

Peel the cucumber and cut in half lengthways. Using a teaspoon scoop out the seeds then slice into half-moons.

Heat a small frying pan on a medium heat and pour in the prawns and their marinade. Cook very gently until they turn pink and are cooked through. Remove the prawns to a plate lined with kitchen paper to soak up any excess oil and leave the pan and remaining marinade to cool.

Mix the crème fraîche, red pepper, sweetener and apple cider vinegar with the mango scrapings. Put a sieve over the jug and pour in the avocado balls so that the juice drips into the jug. Put the avocado balls to one side. Add the cooled prawn marinade to the other dressing ingredients and blend with an immersion blender until smooth and creamy. Leave to one side.

To serve, divide the shredded lettuce between two plates. Scatter the prepared salad ingredients over the lettuce and drizzle over the sweet mango lime dressing. Sprinkle over a pinch of red pepper flakes and plenty of freshly ground black pepper.

A Humble Roasted Chickpea and Kale Salad

I underestimate the power of stupid-simple, delicious recipes. Iget carried away, trying to impress you with homemade gnocchi you will probably never make or fancy desserts which’s dough is composed of strange flours that, even though really good for you, are really hard to find unless you share my zip code. I love making these crazy concoctions because I love cooking; playing with food keeps me excited.

But, as much fun as it is to experiment with new ingredients, I typically rely on the same old handful of recipes. I know these won’t fail me when it’s 9 o'clock and my stomach is growling; when there is nobody but Day and myself to feed. Though easy to make, these recipes are the backbone to our livelihood: seasonally adaptable, easy to make, and most importantly tasty.

The classics include: (1) Buttery, cumin scented pasta; (2) Midweek pureed vegetable soup, (3) Grain salad, made with quinoa, or buckwheat, or rice, (4) Eggs, in the shape of shakshouka, frittata, or my favorite, olive oil fried, and finally, (5) the all-time-mighty, roasted vegetables and kale salad.

On the eve of the opening of the (amazing) project I’ve been working on for the past two and a half years, I present you, a humble variation of number 5.

Made with string green beans, chickpeas, kale, and avocado. I had some extra broccoli leaves (delicious!) and threw them in for entertainment’s sake, but feel free to omit if broccoli is not your thing. The spicy, roasted chickpeas are amazingly delicious with creamy avocado and crisp green beans. All of these lay above a bed of beautifully massaged kale, drenched in a tangy Dijon mustard and lemon vinaigrette.

All of these ingredients can be swapped out for your favorite type of white bean, crunchy vegetable (radishes, asparagus, carrots), and either hearty green you prefer, even though kale reigns supreme.

The best part, you will be savoring bites of this fresh, hearty salad within less than an hour, thankful it didn’t involve a trip to the special grocery store or break the bank.

Bon appetite.

Roasted Chickpeas

Cook time: 45-50 minutes

  • 1 ¼ cup cooked chickpeas, drained and rinsed
  • 1 tsp. cumin powder
  • 1 tsp. chili powder
  • 1 tbsp. olive oil
  • 1 pinch salt
  • 1 clove garlic

Preheat oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit. Place drained and rinsed chickpeas in a bowl with spices, salt, and olive oil. Mince garlic and add in. Mix everything together until all chickpeas are coated in spices and olive oil. Transfer onto a baking sheet and roast for 40-45 minutes, turning once halfway through.  Remove from oven and set aside until ready to use. 

Lemon-Mustard Dressing

  • Juice of a quarter to lemon
  • 1 tsp. Dijon mustard
  • 1 tbsp. olive oil

Whisk all ingredients together until evenly distributed. Set aside until ready to use.

Roasted Chickpea and Kale Salad

Serves 2-3

Assembly time: 5 minutes

  • 1 large bunch of lacinato kale
  • 1 tbsp. olive oil
  • 1 generous pinch of salt
  • Large handful French string beans
  • Avocado, feel free to either use a half or a whole avocado here
  • 3-4 broccoli greens leaves

Wash kale with cold water and pat dry. One leaf at a time, remove the green leafy part from the stem. With one hand hold the end of the stem, with the other hand pull the leaf towards the opposite end. This way you can remove the stem while keeping the leaf whole. Stack all the leaves together. Roll them into a tight tube, and slice thin (approximately ¼ inch slices). Place sliced kale in a bowl and add 1 tablespoon of olive oil and a pinch of salt. With clean hands massage the kale for 2-3 minutes, or until fragrant. Massaging the kale will break down the fibers and make more palatable. Set aside.

Place about a cup of water in a pot. Bring to a boil. Add a pinch of salt and string beans. Cook for three to five minutes. String beans should be bright, but crisp. Remove from pot and rinse under cold water.

Add roasted chickpeas, string beans, and sliced avocado to the bowl with the massaged kale. Pour dressing and serve immediately.

Recipe of the Day: Winter Layered Salad        
Winter’s finest vegetables come together in this hearty salad brimming with Brussels sprouts, pomegranate seeds, juicy grapefruit and chewy barley.


Skookum’s Human-Pleasing Hearty Salad:

A bed of arugula, chopped bell pepper, halved cherry tomatoes, cooked and cooled barley, and toasted almond slices.

Toss with olive oil, vinegar, salt, and pepper.

Optional: Add some protein, like sliced fresh mozzarella (top) or chopped, seasoned chicken breast (bottom) and you’re good to go!

This is a great one to prepare all the ingredients for then throw together several times in a week or bring for lunches :)

Thanks buddy!! 🍅


Winter Kale Salad with Warm Roasted Sunchokes and Butternut Squash

  • 5 oz baby kale
  • 7 medium sized sunchokes, makes about 1 cup once sliced
  • butternut squash, 1 cup cubed
  • 3 garlic cloves
  • 1 sprig of fresh rosemary
  • parmesan for garnish
  • extra virgin olive oil
  • salt and pepper 


  • 3 tablespoons o fresh lemon juice
  • ¼ cup of extra virgin olive oil
  • 2 tablespoons of red wine vinegar
  • 1 crushed garlic clove
  • ½ teaspoon of salt
  • ½ teaspoon of freshly crushed black pepper

I know it’s been a while since I’ve posted a recipe, but now that the holidays are over, and work is chilling out a bit/a lot, I have all the time to continue sharing my recipes with you fine folks. I thought I’d start the new year off with a salad…because lets face it, we all want to start eating healthier and working out once the new years begins. It may not be a resolution that lasts the whole year, but it’s nice to try it out any way.  I know I’m going to get to the gym one of these days…maybe.

What I think is important to eating healthy is that what you’re eating doesn’t have to be boring and bland. You can make a salad hearty, healthy, and packed with flavor. With this salad, you’ve got kale, which is a great source of iron, vitamins A and C, fiber, among several other benefits. For some unique flavor you’ve got roasted butternut squash and sunchokes. Basically, this salad is great and easy to make, it even impressed my salad hating boyfriend. Here’s a start to a healthy (with the occasional cream based recipe) happy, successful year. 

preheat oven to 400 degrees.

Scrub, clean, and dry the sunchokes. Cut each one in half length wise, and then slice about ½ inch thick slices. Set aside.

Cut the butternut squash into about ½ inch thick cubes. Lay the butternut squash and sunchokes out on a baking sheet. Throw in the rosemary sprig and 3 garlic cloves. Toss everything together with ¼ teaspoon of salt, ¼  teaspoon of pepper, and a drizzle of  about 1 tablespoon of extra virgin olive oil. Pop in the oven and roast for about 20-25 minutes, or until tender and golden. 

While the sunchokes and butternut squash are roasting, rinse and dry the baby kale. Set aside in a large salad bowl. 

Whisk together all the ingredients for the dressing in a small bowl, taste and adjust seasoning or add more lemon if necessary. 

Once the sunchokes and butternut squash are done, discard the rosemary and garlic cloves (save garlic cloves to spread on some bread, or eat them alone…immediately…like I did) add them to the salad bowl with the kale while they’re still warm. Toss the salad with half of the dressing. If you think you need more dressing, add more. If not, set the remaining dressing in the fridge to use another time.

Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary. Serve while the veggies are still warm, and garnish each serving with some parmesan cheese. Enjoy!

anonymous asked:

Maybe Hiccup's parents were famous wrestlers that Jack liked to watch, and he wins some contest where he gets to have dinner at their house or something and that's where he meets Hiccup?

I don’t watch wrestling, but I’ll try my best… this won’t be good…

Jack was sandwiched between two of his favorite wrestlers who had retired. Every night when he was little he would watch them tag team others and win every time. Stoick the Vast and Valka the Brave were his absolute heroes, so when he heard there was a contest to have dinner with them-in their own mansion mind you-he jumped at the chance and sent in as many entries as he could. 

He won of course.

Now he was enjoying a hearty steak and salad with his heroes… and their son. It was actually pretty funny that he was so tiny considering his parents were huge and took up most of the space at the table. They gobbled down their food while Hiccup-yes that was his actual name-ate in small bites, keeping his eyes turned down to the table. 

The older teen noticed he was kind of cute, brown hair, green eyes, an enormous amount of freckles splayed across his face. Yet he wouldn’t look Jack in the eye. He frowned and stabbed another piece of steak, popping it into his mouth.

“So Jack, you used to watch us when you were little?” Valka put down her wine glass. She looked a lot prettier than she did on stage with all the war makeup covering her. 

“Yeah,” Jack said through his blush. “My parents always hated it when I would sneak into the living room at night to turn on your later matches.” He shrugged and pushed his food around. 

Stoick laughed and patted his back roughly. “Maybe after dinner then we can show you all the awards we’ve won!” He smiled and Jack nodded eagerly. “Well then, let’s finish up and get to them!”

Hiccup stood up, taking his plate with him. “I’m done eating. I’m going up to my room.” He still kept his face down. The blue eyed teen stared. 

“Hiccup, you’ve barely touched your food,” Valka pointed out worriedly. 

“You’ll never get any muscle the way you eat!” Stoick crossed his arms and nudged Jack. “My son, never seems to want to become stronger.” Hiccup looked at them with his ears turning red and hurried out, shoulders hunched. “Ah, he’s just shy I suppose." 

Jack nodded silently and continued to eat, wondering if it was just his imagination or if he really did see the bulge of an erection from Hiccup’s pants.