Moroccan Braised Kale over Wheatberries

MOROCCAN BRAISED KALE OVER WHEATBERRIES
(with a poached egg)

This summer, my coworker and I decided to keep a shared daily log of everything we ate and all the exercise we've done in order to feel a sense of accountability for a healthy lifestyle.  You've probably heard of this as a method of establishing better habits, but if you haven't tried it you absolutely should!  I also highly recommend pairing up with someone who is a gluten-free vegetarian...seeing that every meal on this log he's keeping is super healthy omelettes and salads.  I may return to school in August to find a rabbit sitting across from me in the office.

One of the benefits of this experiment has been a sort of mirroring effect.  Looking at PA's progress has been really impressive, and it has rubbed off.  So now, I find myself wanting to create more meals that are vegetarian, for example.  I've also found myself eating lots of eggs for protein, because that's his main protein source.  So, while this particular post includes wheatberries, the basic recipe for this braised kale is one I've been coming back to over and over again this summer.  It's a bit of a variation of both my Kale, Spinach, and Meatball Soup and Shakshouka, but without the meat.

I've found keeping the log is motivating enough to try and continue with it while I'm abroad for almost the remainder of the summer.  I know that sounds a bit crazy - and believe me I'll still allow myself a good lemon and sugar crepe in Paris, a waffle in Belgium, etc. - but I think it will be a good way to prevent a dietary nuclear meltdown.  Hopefully it also turns out to be a good way to document some great flavors I discover across the pond, and then bring them home and back to the blog when I return.  I know this is already only the second post of the summer, but surely I'll pick it up again with more regularity in August.
  

Vegan Ethiopian Trio with Quick Injera

VEGAN ETHIOPIAN TRIO w/ QUICK INJERA

Ethiopian has been on the kitchen to do list for a really long time now, and I committed to attempting it early last week.  I researched multiple variations of dishes, vegetarian and non-vegetarian, and compared dozens of different recipes for injera, trying to balance out authenticity and time efficiency.  Naturally, the first semi-conscious thought I had this morning in the waking minutes between denial and reality was "this is not the day to make Ethiopian."  I dozed for another few minutes settled on the thought that it would be much wiser to put this off until June, when time would cease to matter.  It would be crazy to commit to a cooking adventure that was really four recipes to tackle in a narrow window of time between the day's more pressing activities.

But since I only allow a window between 10am and noon for blogging, and by 9:30 no better ideas had occurred to me, off I went to the store to scrounge together a few ingredients I needed to pull off and Ethiopian feast.  Of course, there was no sign of teff flour (the traditional stuff for injera), and as I expected, no fenugreek or yellow split peas, so I had to make due with a few substitutions.    At this point Garrett wisely decided to head down the street to a coffee shop to get work done, and out of the way of any potential kitchen meltdowns. 

As it turns out, this whole process was so much easier than I anticipated.  The three separate dishes pretty much come together in the exact same process of layering flavors on top of an onion base, so as long as you have a food processor that can quickly mince onions and a stove top with four burners, you're set.  I expected that my first attempt at injera would surely end with a pile of burnt, ripped crepes that were impossible to remove from the pan.  But no, they cooked up quickly and slid right off the pan and on to the plate.  I even did the dishes while I cooked so the kitchen wasn't a complete disaster when all was said and done.  It was the zen of kitchen.

So, how did this compare to going out to an Ethiopian restaurant?  First, Garrett and I agreed that the end result was much better than either of us expected.  We assumed it would be tasty, but not all that reminiscent of the real deal.  We were wrong about that, too.  If anything, these versions are a bit less rich because they're vegan,  specifically because they swap the Ethiopian spiced butter (niter kebbeh) for oil as a flavor base.  As a positive trade-off, we didn't feel like total worthless crap the rest of the day after eating a large portion.  The slightly bigger difference was the taste and texture of the injera.  Despite the addition of vinegar and lemon juice, the crepe didn't have as much of the characteristic sourdough flavor of authentic injera (or as many bubbles).  Given that the real deal would have taken a whole day to ferment with yeast, I think this quick version is a completely acceptable compromise.  The final assessment was a resounding "exceeded expectations," if you're going for a healthier, faster Ethiopian meal.