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My mom and I spent the last week in a delightful, riverside cabin in the mountains of central Oregon. For our meals we brought with us just a few ingredients: polenta, chicken, fresh mozzarella (my saving grace in this new cheese-deprived life), sweet Italian sausage (fresh and nitrite free, so no risk of triggering a headache), greens, asparagus, eggs, onions, mushrooms and thyme. Okay, maybe that sounds like a lot, but I have a tendency to cook entirely different meals each day, so this was an interesting exercise.

Sauted onions and mushrooms with thyme

Our first meal was polenta, garlicky sauteed greens and baked chicken breast topped with onions and mushrooms sauteed with fresh thyme (if onion is a migraine trigger for you, substitute shallots). This is such an easy meal and, as you will see, it provides a plethora of leftover options. If polenta isn’t a regular part of your culinary repertoire, I recommend that you consider making it so. I love polenta because it’s delicious, the leftovers can be prepared in an entirely different ways than the original and it’s simple to cook (the idea that you have to arduously and continuously stir it is a myth; I actually recommend staying far away from it as it cooks because it vigorously ejects fiery hot polenta bombs as it bubbles away – I have the scar to prove it).

Polenta with chicken and greens

For breakfast later in the week, we fried up the polenta in butter and olive oil, and served it with asparagus, Italian sausage and a fried egg (obviously frying eggs is not my forte):

fried egg, polenta, sausage and asparagus

And a lunch one sunny afternoon: greens, fried polenta croutons, leftover chicken from our first night, fresh mozzarella and asparagus.

Chicken, mozzarella and asparagus on greens with polenta croutons

In a way it was liberating to cook with the same set of ingredients for several days. I can be a little tyrannical about variety, so I’ve been making an effort to actually develop a repertoire of go-to meals. Without that, as much as I love eating good food, cooking can become overly demanding.

Sea Beans from Foraged and Found Edibles

We picked up sea beans at the Foraged and Found Edibles stand last Sunday at the Ballard Farmer’s Market. I bought them mainly because the name makes me giggle. They are bright green, have a super satisfying crunch and look a little like stick bugs. They taste like crispy, crunchy ocean! The treasures from Foraged and Found have been a mainstay of our diet for the last few months. We are in love with pasta with mushroom and cream sauce and have been relying on Foraged and Found for our weekly fungi fix. This week we also got a tip: Paul Stamets, of Fungi Perfecti, is doing amazing things with mushrooms. Amazing things with mushrooms! I don’t even know what that means. But I’m intrigued.

Our pasta purveyor is Pasteria Lucchese. Their pastas are luscious; they truly make the dish. Every week we buy one or two varieties. I love the opportunity to say, “ciao!” and “grazie!” to the very friendly Mr. Lucchese. He treated us like old friends the first time we met. Note to other market vendors: this is a great way to inspire loyalty.

Pappardelle from Seattle\'s Pasteria Lucchese

This week we had both troffie and pappardelle. We used the mushroom cream sauce on the pappardelle. Every week our mushroom pasta is a variation on this recipe:

Saute half a sliced onion in olive oil and butter (2-3 T of each) until soft. To that add 1/2 cup or so of chopped morels (or whatever wild mushroom is available) and some fresh herbs (thyme or sage are good choices) and salt and pepper. Once the mushrooms have softened, add 1/2 cup of chicken broth. Then pour in ~1/4 cup of whole cream. Adjust seasonings. Sometimes I add a roux to this sauce if I’m in the mood for something a little thicker.

We had sea beans on the side. Blanched them for a moment, splashed on some olive oil, sprinkled with salt, pepper and toasted sesame seeds.

Pappardelle with with mushrooms (and sea beans)

potato kale \

The potato-kale gnocchi I made for dinner tonight was super yummy, but totally wrong. The recipe, from Jack Bishop’s fabulous The Complete Italian Vegetarian Cookbook, emphasized the need to squeeze every bit of water out of the kale, and warned of the perils of incorporating too much flour. Not too wet; not too dry. Somehow mine turned out too wet and too dry. It was obviously gummy, yet too dry to roll out into “dough ropes.” What happened? Did I squeeze the kale too much? I really did do a very good job of squeezing that kale. Maybe it was the moisture content of the potatoes. Or maybe it was my judgment. The book did say, “you will need to use some judgment here.” Aha! The forgotten ingredient.

The final product was gummy and lumpy. But delicious! Even Z loved it, and he thinks russet potatoes taste like bile. Each time he asked what I was making I would say, “kale gnocchi,” hoping he wouldn’t connect our dinner with the russets baking in the oven (he also has a fear of white sauces, so when I make homemade mayonnaise I am careful to call it “aioli”). Since the suggested accompaniments of gorgonzola sauce or pesto are not “migraine friendly” (pesto, with it’s nuts and aged cheese) I sauced it with browned butter and basil chiffonade. Butter is my new best friend, now that so many other tasty toppings are forbidden. Organic Valley has “pasture butter” available now. I haven’t found any local pastured butter; I hear no one makes it since the retail price would be prohibitively high. Foods from pastured cows, milk, butter, meat, contain high quantities of CLA (conjugated linoleic acid) which, research suggests, fights cancer and reduces abdominal fat. Bring on the butter!

my new best friend

A sandwich!

Yippee! A sandwich! I don’t eat sandwiches much anymore since deli meats are on the banned foods list. But yesterday I had leftover roast chicken (not too leftover, that’s also banned) and some day-old bread (fresh yeasted breads aren’t allowed, either). I’m following a migraine trigger-free diet on the advice of my neurologist. Or rather, I’m attempting to follow one (I did sneak a teeny bit of dijon onto that sandwich, and with it, a teeny, teeny bit of sulfites). I’m doing a hybrid of the National Headache Foundation’s “low tyramine diet” and the guidelines from David Buchholz’ book Heal Your Headache. Both are authorities in the migraine field, yet their dietary recommendations are slightly different. Buchholz’ is a little more restrictive, so I lean towards the NHF version.

As a lover of all things edible I find the diet heartbreaking. Buchholz points out that there are more things that you are allowed to eat than not allowed to eat. This is technically true, but beside the point. Here are some foods from the no-no list: aged cheeses, wine, cured or smoked meats and fish, nuts, fresh yeasted breads, vinegar (except clear distilled), lemons, onions. How do you cook without onions? Or bacon? Clear distilled vinegar? Isn’t that the kind you use to clean out the coffee maker? My maple-glazed pork tenderloin yearns for apple cider vinegar, not a household cleaning product. The butterhead sings out for champagne vinegar! And oh – lovely nuts. Goodbye almond butter on my toast. Goodbye pine nuts on sauteed spinach with browned butter. Goodbye endive with toasted walnuts and gorgonzola (oh, lovely gorgonzola).

Somehow, after several months, I am adapting to my restricted ingredients list. Fortunately I live in the Pacific Northwest, where we are blessed with an abundance of delectable foods year round. This softens the blow. For many reasons – ecological, economic, culinary, health – I try to eat foods that are local and seasonal. And I believe in eating “real food” as espoused by Nina Planck and Michael Pollan. This blog is a chronicle of the meals I make as I attempt to eat within boundaries: those imposed on me by the headache diet, and those that result from my preference for local and seasonal real foods.

So back to my sandwich. Roast chicken, arugula from the garden, a few leaves of basil from the starts I deadheaded earlier in the day, tomato and the cheaty bit, dijon mustard. Okay, the tomato was a cheaty bit, too. It wasn’t local or seasonal. But it also did not have salmonella, since it was “on the vine” and from BC. Thanks, BC, for not poisoning me. (Seriously, though, this whole tomato-salmonella things is one perfect example of why I’d rather buy food grown by someone I’ve met.) Here’s my sarny:

roast chicken and arugula sandwich

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