Raw Zucchini Pasta in a Vegan Curry Cream Sauce

Fresh, raw zucchini pasta- angel hair style.

I'm not usually one to focus a recipe around a cooking gadget. Though heaven knows, I love me my kitchen power tools as much as any scratch cook out there. A gluten-free goddess has gotta have some fun, after all. And sometimes, to change things up, you need to break out of your routine and try something completely new. 

Which, not surprisingly, brings me to pasta.

I love pasta. Especially gluten-free pasta. But I don't love cranking up the gas stove to boil bulky pots of salted water when the kitchen is already steamy with late summer heat and I'm faint and famished (and did I mention, hot flashing like some cussing heaving alligator from the swamps of wherever it is they film True Blood. I may idly dream of gleaming white porcelain bowls heaped with creamy mounds of angel hair spaghetti kissed by a delicate white sauce, but I'm not inclined to heat up my kitchen just to satisfy this culinary craving.

I get prickly and sticky just thinking about it.

So I started investigating raw pasta. Which led me to discover a modest little kitchen tool that makes magic happen. A spiral slicer that turns August's ubiquitous zukes into tender strands of pasta. And not like, puny three inch strands. 

I'm talking long, lovely, curvy strands of angel hair spaghetti.

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Gluten-Free Breakfast Bars

Gluten-free breakfast bars with quinoa flakes.

Tired of gnawing on gluten-free toast or slurping down a bowl of gluten-free cereal for breakfast? Me too. I'm in a rut. An almond butter on toast rut. And though I hate to complain (the simple truth is, I adore almond butter with the white hot passion of a thousand suns, so chowing down on it daily does not qualify as drudgery or sacrifice), I used to start my day a little sexier. I used to indulge in these rich and dense Quinoa Breakfast Bars or this orange infused Quinoa Breakfast Cake. Both are beyond delish.

But alas they contain sugar.


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Grilled Vegetable Pasta Salad

Fresh summer salad ingredients: basil, red and yellow tomatoes.

We have a wedding to go to. And not just any wedding. My first born son's wedding. I am mother of the groom. For the first time. Twenty-nine summers ago I cradled this soulful, musical being with new mother innocence and awe, lost in the ocean of this newborn's eyes, starting a journey called motherhood with few tools beyond my willing heart and a deep rooted conviction that I would create for him a childhood unlike my own.

And in many ways I did. I listened with curiosity. I valued his opinion. I gave him paper and paint and books and music. I gave him the time and space and respect to create. We hung together as true companions.

He was always good company.

And still is.

He inspires me daily. We connect through Instagram and iChat. He lives his life as an artist. Creatively. He improvises and honors his intuition. He composes music. Takes killer iphone photographs.

And he cooks.

In fact, he inspired this recipe.

Because he loves to grill vegetables.

His lovely bride is a vegetarian.

So the next time I cook for them- as husband and wife- I think I'll make this vegan pasta salad with smoky grilled vegetables.


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Gluten-Free Cherry Almond Muffins

Whole grain, gluten-free, dairy-free... and luscious.

It hit me today as I was walking my morning walk. I've been sugar-free for two months (I even looked it up, just be sure). Eight weeks without sugar. Eight! Ocho. Huit. Osiem. The first week was the toughest. Sugar detox is not for wimps, darling.

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Gluten-Free Frittata with Brown Rice Penne

Gluten-free pasta frittata made with brown rice penne.

Summer is officially upon us- allegedly. And by us I mean those of us calling the Northern hemisphere our home. See? I didn't forget you lovely readers from the topsy-turvy land Down Under, strapped to snowboards or skiing the snowy slopes of Victoria in need of steaming mugs of soup and plates of comfort food. I know it's winter for you. I get it. I do. I'm chilly, too. I've got Popsicle toes. And just so you know I'm not pulling your leg, Mate, I'll let you in on a little secret.

I'm not sporting a bikini these days, either.


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Friday Eye Candy: Farmers' Market, Strawberries, and a Peek at My Beach Path

Organic strawberries make gluten-free luscious and beautiful.

I have been sitting here in my chair, as bone quiet still as a nun in a pew at midnight, with nary a poetic turn of phrase in sight. I am trying to conjure words for strawberries. And summer. And the newly minted sensation of actually, finally, living by the sea. I keep thinking about breathing- because the ionized ocean air is so sexy gorgeous you could eat it with a spoon. And because for the first time in a long, long time I can feel myself uncoil a bit and allow a long, soft exhale to trail into the stream of salty wind that whistles through the crack of an open window above my bed as I blink awake to the whoop of a sunrise surfer ripping his way down a foamy curl. His joy is infectious. And I smile. And yawn.

The word gratitude comes to mind.

Not to mention, abundance. This week's farmers market was indeed abundant, tumbling wild with the jewels of summer. Boxes and boxes of fragrant strawberries. Buckets of cherries. Crates of plums. Potted herbs and June blooms- peonies and Japanese iris. So I offer you eye candy today. The gift of color. And ten gluten-free strawberry recipes to inspire your weekend and get you in the mood to whoop.

It's summer. Live a little. Get juicy.


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Gluten-Free Baked Donuts

Gluten-free cake donuts with powdered sugar and cinnamon.

Apparently it is National Donut Day. But don't be grumpy, my celiac lovelies. I've got a gluten-free donut recipe for you, from the friendly archives of Gluten-Free Goddess.

For those of us born and raised on the East Coast- specifically, near Boston, Massachusetts- a certain coffee BF with a hole in the center is spelled donut. Not doughnut. Why so not-snobby casual, you might wonder? Why switch the ough to o when Boston's rep is more of a Paul Revere and cobblestones conservative town than say, oh I don't know-- maybe, rainbow flag flying West Hollywood? Dunkin Donuts is the culprit, I suspect- that ubiquitous New England coffee and doughnut chain from Quincy, MA, infamous for the tag line, Time to make the donuts! muttered by Fred the Baker in television ads for a good fifteen years.

I have fond memories of the Double D, as we liked to call it. For two reasons. They made the best cup of dark roast coffee east of the Mississippi. No fancy skim foam or steamed soy milk offered. Just coffee. Strong and rich. I took mine with cream and sugar. And a donut. Usually a blueberry cake donut, or an old fashioned cake donut scented with nutmeg. The second reason? My first rendezvous with a certain individual sixteen years ago was a meet at the Double D. Yep. Coffee and donuts to go. We parked at the beach and sipped our Joe and talked with our mouths full, our laps dusted with sugar and crumbs, the car radio crooning Crowded House against the salty gusts of April wind.

Romantic? Hell yeah. My heart was pounding. And it's a good thing I was snug in a bucket seat. Because my knees were quivering Jello. You see, romantic doesn't need to be fancy. Or expensive. Not if you're with the right person. The person who makes you feel golden and voluptuous and awake. Who raises your game just by sitting there. Smiling at you. Who listens with their whole body- not to mention, their killer keen eyes. The person who feels slightly dangerous because your soul is at last being seen. And there is nowhere to hide.

So, Steve Baby?

This recipe's for you.


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