Skip to main content

MASH IT UP

Baby food is not just for babies. Anyone who loves mashed potatoes knows this. In fact, pureed foods can be easier to digest, since blenders do the work of your teeth and often do it better, but unfortunately pureed foods often come mixed with oils and fats and laden with salts and flavorings.

For dinner, try this:

3 sweet potatoes
2 tbsp. flaxseed
1 head of cauliflower
1 can black beans
1/2 avocado
1/4 cup nutritional yeast

Wash and dice the sweet potatoes in 1-inch cubes, leaving the skin on. Cut the cauliflower into florets. Bring 6 cups of water to a rapid boil. Add the potatoes and boil uncovered for 7 minutes. Then add the cauliflower and boil for an additional 7-10 minutes, depending on preferred softness. Then strain and add to a food processor or Vitamix with the flaxseeds, avocado, black beans, and nutritional yeast and blend until smooth. Season to taste. Top with fresh tomatoes and onions for added kick.

This variation on mashed potatoes makes four 350-calorie servings. It is loaded with fiber (22 grams per serving) and most major vitamins and minerals. You can use it as a dip with carrots or other raw veggies, load it into a lettuce leaf for a nifty wrap, or eat it directly from the bowl with a big spoon. The avocado and flax provide just the right amount of fat so you won't in the least bit miss the cream, butter, and oil.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

GRAY MATTERS

I was watching the TV show Naked and Afraid last night as I sometimes do. The show teams together two strangers, a man and a woman, who attempt to survive on their own for a period of 21 days in some remote and isolated region. Some of the locales featured include the Australian Outback, the Amazonian rainforest and the African Savanna. The man may have a military background, or be an adventurist or deep sea fisherman. Sometimes he's an ordinary dude who lives with mom. The woman is a park ranger or extreme fitness enthusiast or "just a mom" herself. Sometimes the couple quarrel, sometimes one or both "tap out" (quit) in a fit of anger or illness. It is satisfying to see them actually make it through the challenge and reach their extraction point. The victors are usually exhausted, emaciated, begrimed and bare ass naked. 

Even more satisfying, at least for me, is the occasional ass shot, snuck in at strategic intervals to boost viewership, of course. It's co…

EVERYTHING'S INTENTIONAL

There is no such thing as screw-ups.

Case in point. My excellent friend Deej comes over to help me beautify the garden. He immediately dives in, crouching down on his knees and weed whacking with his bare hands. Before I can say yay or nay, he proceeds to remove a huge clump of daisy greens from the oblong patch of Earth adjacent to the driveway. The area instantly looks bare. Like the back of Woody Allen's head. Smoothing out the soil and shaking his head Deej mutters to himself "I fucked it up!" over and over again. We try everything. Planting succulents in the daisy's place. Covering it with rocks. But still the area looks barren. And every time you water it the water trickles down onto the sidewalk in the absence of roots to hold it in place. It's getting dark so we go back inside. The next day I return to the spot with a clear perspective and remove all the other daisies, leaving only rose bushes and the succulents that DJ planted, and depositing 10 bags of m…

SOUL CYCLE

This is not a commentary on the latest fitness fad. Because if it were, the little I'd have to say on the subject would be largely derogatory. I simply cannot see see how crouching in a stuffy, dark, cramped room surrounded by sweat-drenched strangers while expending a lot of energy and going nowhere deserves to be called fun, though aficionados tell me it is (fun). I tell these aficionados that if no pain no gain is your thing, discomfort can be had for a lot cheaper than $50 an hour. Try plucking your nose hairs. What we don't do for the sake of beauty. This endurance heir to the Stairmaster and elliptical is all hype. There's a name for the type who likes to run (or otherwise move) in place. It's called a hamster. 

This reminds me of a joke my father likes to tell, about what living with a woman turns a guy into. You go from a wolf to a sheep to a hamster. After nearly 40 years of married life, my dad has added cockroach to the zoological lineage. Which I'm sure …