Cooking Palooza: Wilted Greens and Egg-Stuffed Portabello Mushrooms On a Bed of Cauliflower Rice

It has been ages since I've done a full blown Cooking Palooza. And ~ dang it! ~ we were long overdue for one!

Folks who know me know that I am not a typical one to follow instructions (at least not until after I have nailed down the fundamentals). In this case, I not only did not follow instructions, I also took two recipes from Dr Will Cole's book ~ Ketotarian: The (Mostly) Plant-Based Plan to Burn Fat, Boost Your Energy, Crush Your Cravings, And Calm Inflammation ~ and combined them to create a new hybrid recipe. 

The two recipes that I've used for inspiration were the Greens Frittata and the Italian Egg-Stuffed Portobello Mushrooms. Mind you, each recipe called for a different cooking approach. But I wanted to play with the ingredients.

The very first thing I did, before I even set up my mise en place, was to take a container of grape tomatoes (plus some extras that I had left over), a chopped up red bell pepper, half a chopped up red onion, and a couple of cloves of minced garlic, and throw everything into a three-quart baking pan. I drizzled some extra virgin olive oil, and gave several cranks of the coarse pink Himalayan garlic seasoned salt and some Vietnamese black pepper.

 

Next, I threw that dish in a 425-degree preheated oven and let it roast for half an hour, so that it came out looking like this.

I let the dish cool while I chopped and prepped the rest of the ingredients.

What I did next was to chop up a head of cauliflower and give the florets a spin in the food processor so that the result was cauliflower rice.

Once the entire head of cauliflower was riced, I divided it up into six portions. (You see, this meal was going to serve as lunches for work, and I wanted to see how it would work to cook each meal portion in its own Pyrex bowl.)

Once the bed of cauliflower rice was laid down, the next step was to take each portobello mushroom cap, remove the stem, and clean out the gills. After that was done, I sat each cap on its own individual bed of cauliflower rice.

Now we're going to get to the wilted greens part. While I did use the vegetables that were listed on both recipes (for the most part, as I could not find any eggplant at H-E-B), I also added some ingredients. (This is also a great recipe for when you're cleaning out the fridge and need to use up ingredients.)

For my wilted greens mix, I used the following:

• a bunch of organic Lacinto kale
• a bunch of organic red Swiss chard
• a bunch of spinach
• a couple of baby bok choy

The chard was not in any of the original two recipes that I used for inspiration. However, I wanted to include it in order to add some bright red color to the mix.

Because this was a considerably large amount of greens, I had to pull out Big Bertha, my fifteen-inch cast iron skillet.

First I got Big Bertha all nice and hot on medium high heat. I threw in about half a cup of water, and then added the greens bit by bit, cooking them down until they were all wilted. Once all the greens were cooked, I threw them into a paper towel lined colander that was sitting in the sink.

I then wiped down Big Bertha, added some extra virgin olive oil, and let it heat up for the next assault, which consisted of the following:

• the other half of the red onion, chopped up
• four cloves of garlic
• a chopped up shallot
• a couple of leeks that I forgot I had sitting in the veggie bin in the fridge, sliced thin
• a couple of huge-ass jalapeño peppers, chopped up
• a bunch of fresh oregano, chopped up

 

I sautéed those suckers until they were soft.

Once the Allium cousins and jalapeños were all sautéed up, I transferred them into a large bowl, where I also added the drained wilted greens, and then mixed up everything thoroughly.

At this point, I set my oven to 350 degrees. Then I grabbed the greens mix and placed it inside (and around) the upturned giant mushroom caps like this.

I made an indented nest in each bowl, in which I had placed a cracked egg.

The whole kit and kaboodle went into the hot, which I checked every ten minutes or so. (The goal was to get the egg whites to congeal.)

While the bowls were in the oven, I took the contents from that pan of roasted grape tomatoes and red bell pepper, and placed them in a bowl, where I then proceeded to mash them with a potato masher.

After they were mashed, I added some chopped up Kalamata olives, along with some marinated artichoke hearts that were hiding in the nether reaches of the fridge. And I threw in some balsamic vinegar for good measure as well.

While twenty minutes of baking time would have been enough, I gave it come more time as I didn't want the yolks too runny while the dishes sat in the fridge for a week. (Had I been serving the dish right away, I would have opted to keep the runny yolks.)

After I pulled the pan with the bowls out of the oven, I ringed the egg yolks with that grape tomato and red bell pepper sauce, sprinkled the top of each dish with vegan shredded mozzarella cheese, and then topped everything with some cut fresh basil.

I wish I could taste this dish and let all y'all know what it tastes like, but at the present moment I am stuffed to the gills with a bowl of the wilted greens mix that was left over from the assembly line.

But in the meantime, I'm sure that I will like this dish. And if not, I have plenty of dogs who won't complain!

The Tale of Two Trails

My yearly pass at the Baytown Nature Center is about to expire ~ in another three days. As such, I decided to check out the Goose Creek Nature trail, which is free, to see if that would be a viable alternative for me to get my nature fix.

Things looked promising with that stately Spanish moss. However, the trail was this six-foot paved walkway, which was not what I was hoping for. And I certainly did not need my shit-kickers for this.

Maybe it was going to change to a more natural trail. And there was one way to find out.

A little ways off the concrete walkway was this platform and pretty view.

As I proceed with my walk, I had this nice water view vista to the right of me.

However, on the left I had this.

So I continued walking along, hoping that the trail would eventually change over to something more "natural."

In no time soon, I came across a sign that pointed to a little league park.

And then I came across this platform and boat ramp. (At least now I have a place from where I could launch a kayak, when I decide to get one.)

Here's a view from the boat ramp.

Guess the fish caught here aren't the healthiest or safest to eat.

Continuing a little ways more, I hoping that the trail would change. But from what I could tell, it remained the same. It continued up across an overpass on W Texas Avenue. 

I was debating whether or not proceed. And when I saw a man crossing the overpass, yelling very loudly into his cellphone, my mind was made up to turn around and head back.

That was it!

I came here looking for a new nature spot, not to partake of the drama that I witness every day while at work.

So I turned around and made my way back to my Xterra. And I took in that stately Spanish moss one more time.

However, before I made it to my car, I spied something nearby to my right.

It was a black vulture feasting away at squirrel carcass. (The smell of decomp was quite strong!)

And it wasn't just one vulture, but two! The other one stayed back a bit, letting its mate enjoy all that decomposing goodness!

It was time to say goodbye to the vultures and to the Goose Creek Trail. While it not what I was looking for, I also understood that it may be the perfect place for someone who's mobility-impaired to enjoy a bit of nature, as the paved walkway could easily accommodate a walker or wheelchair, and of course bicycles and strollers as well.

So I drove to the Baytown Nature Center, which wasn't too far away. Because I had already used up some time exploring the Goose Creek Trail, I wanted to keep my hike short so that I could get home by eleven o'clock.

The Chickadee Trail was one trail that I haven't done before.

Yes! This was much more like it!

This was the sort of trail that I was looking for ~ the kind that my shit kickers were meant for!

There were some swampy ponds underneath the tree canopy. And the mosquitoes were ferocious! 

Moving along, there was another swampy pond, with more hungry mosquitoes.

There were a couple of empty purple chickadee feeding stations along the trail.

This photo does not do this tree justice.

Looks like a mimosa leaf to me.

This has got to be the biggest and most huge-ass sago palm that I've seen! It's easily four to five times taller than the one that I have in front of my house!

Moving along, I've come out into some open space, for which I was very grateful, as there were no mosquitoes to feast on my flesh.

I could smell something marshy.

The trail was a former street, in a former subdivision in a tony section of Baytown. Walking through these trails is a quiet meditation on the reclamation of Nature. (You can read about how the Baytown Nature Center came to be here.)

I tried taking a closeup of one the puddles on this street/trail. It really doesn't look like much, does it?

Perhaps this photo gives a better idea of the puddle and what a living organism ~ a mini ecosystem ~ looks like.

I couldn't tell what this bird was. Possibly a heron perhaps?

I love how the sky reflects in the water!

There were clumps of these purple flowers throughout my hike.

I have yet to identify what kind of flower they are.

As I continued my hike, I spotted something scurrying through the grass. It was a peculiar creature, and I could not, for the life of me, figure out what it was. But when I got closer to it, I saw that it was a little crab ~ a land crab. I've never seen a land crab before. I tried to coax it onto my hand so that I could take a better pic, but the fellow was not being very cooperative.

Cattails always remind me of where I used to live in Massachusetts. Ever since I was a little kid, I always thought they were the coolest thing.

Here's another plant whose identity of which I had not a clue.

Honeysuckle!

This is the type of trail I was looking for when I first explored Goose Creek Trail, only to have it fall way short of my expectations. Look at that legendary Texas Big Sky!

Way in the distance, peeking over the tops of the trees, you can see the San Jacinto Monument that commemorates the battle for Texas Independence. 

The monument is across the bay in La Porte, Texas. It stands at 567.31 feet, making it 12.698 feet taller than the Washington Monument, as well as having it be the tallest masonry column on this planet. The star that sits on top of the monument is 34 feet tall and weighs 220 tons. Also, the star has nine points. This was a deliberate design feature in order to make the star appear to have five points, as in the Texas Lone Star, from whatever angle it was viewed.

This curious tangle of yellow is the dodder vine (genus Cuscuta). It is a parasitic plant that can grow and attach itself to multiple plants.

Having finished my short hike, I started making my way out of the nature center. Driving down the narrow road I spotted this egret. But then that's not surprising, as the Baytown Nature Center is an official stop on the Great Texas Coastal Birding Trail.

As brief as my hike was, it was a very welcome and much appreciated nature break. I am pretty certain I will be re-upping my yearly pass to the Baytown Nature Center.

The Art of the Present Moment

Living in the present moment has been on my mind a lot lately. According to many popular experts on the Law of Attraction and metaphysics, the present moment is the realm of infinite possibilities, the realm of miracles. Living in the present moment has many benefits, such as increased effectiveness, increased relaxation, increased awareness, greater ease in shedding outmoded belief systems that no longer serve one’s best interests. 

To live in the present is to go with the flow and to trust in the process, whatever that process may be. That hasn’t always been an easy thing for me. Even though I can intellectually grasp the principle, actually living it has been elusive. And it remained elusive, even after my daughter, whom I would have never suspected of something like this, embraced living in the present. According to her, she realized that everything she tried before wasn’t working, so she decided to try something completely different. And when she experienced the peace that came with living in the present, she was sold on the idea.

If my kid could do it, why couldn’t I? But the big question was “how?” How do I go from stopping worrying about what the future could bring, especially with my finances being in such a state that even a moderate unexpected expense could totally wipe me out, to going with the flow? I didn’t like living on the edge. But I had no idea on how to go with the flow and live in the present, in the realm of infinite possibilities.

It was Thursday morning — my “Monday” — and I woke up at 5:00 AM, one and a half hours before my alarm was set to go off. The first thing to cross my mind was that I still have that temporary power supply cable running from the transformer box in my yard to the neighbors’ house. A permanent cable was supposed to have already been laid down at the end of last month. My mind began to churn, wondering when this was going to happen. Would this happen while I was at work? I had already told my neighbors that I need at least 24 hours notice because I would need to make sure that the dogs were secured inside before leaving for work. And what sort of pet accidents and mischief would I come home to with the dogs having had no access to the outside for twelve and a half hours? Would my fence even be standing?

If I wasn’t worrying about dogs messing in the house and not being able to go to the bathroom outside because of work being done in my yard, I was worrying about the scary state of my finances. Believe me, they are really scary right now, and barring the advent of a major miracle, it will be at least nine more months before I could let go of my breath.

Frankly, having this sort of constant intrusion was getting to be a rather tiresome game, literally speaking, as I was not getting the proper rest I needed for work. Of course, that led to more worrying as to whether I was going to be rested enough to perform my job safely, or if I would have to make a choice between going to work and risking having something terrible happen or risk getting suspended for calling in sick for the third time in less than two months.

Something had to give. I could not go on living that way, because that would be a sure guarantee that things weren’t going to change for the better and I was going to remain stuck in this constant butt-busting mode. And how long would I be able to sustain my energy before my body decided that it had enough?

It was later that morning, while operating my train on its first trip that epiphany came like a lightning bolt. 

Getting possessed by the creative process is living in the present moment!

So yeah, living in the present was not as alien a concept as I thought it was. And this piece of artwork — my embroidered illustration that I’ve named “Saint Sally Exorcising the Furnace Demons” — was proof that I do indeed know how to live in the present.

When I first came up with the concept for this embroidered illustration, I had no idea how I was going to proceed. So I just took one small section at a time, first starting with Saint Sally’s (my mother’s) hair. It took me three nights to work that tiny patch of fabric as I was using only single strand embroidery floss in multiple colors, laying down each tiny stitch like a brushstroke. After I finished the hair, I had to decide on what else to work on. And I saw how easy it could be to become paralyzed with indecision and not knowing what direction to take. But something told me to just start working anywhere -- anywhere -- and that as I worked, the piece would start letting me know what needed to be done next. And that was exactly what happened.

I completely threw my trust into the creative process. And the creative process did not fail me. Every step along the way, my work in progress whispered to me. It guided me. It taught me. It gave me answers to questions I had, and even questions I did not know I had. Not only did it show me how to execute the piece I was working on, it taught me things about myself and about the world around me.

That’s not to say that the process was easy. In fact there were parts that were downright agonizing and frustrating, just like real life. There were times when I had to constantly rip out stitches, time and time again, because certain areas did not look right and that not correcting them would have thrown off the whole foundation of the piece.

And just like real life, there was a moment when I was thrown into a major panic when a rip in a weakened section of fabric threatened to undermine all of the several month's worth of effort I had already put in. When I say that I was in a panic, I was not kidding. I actually experienced an extremely strong sickening dread -- pretty much a similar dread when my finances are in a very precarious state.

But you know what?

My piece whispered to me. It told me what to do and how to repair the damaged area so that the fabric was properly reinforced. Not only that, the repaired area was not even visible!

It took me five years to complete this project, and that was mainly because it was a traveling project that was only worked on during family holidays, sitting in doctors' waiting rooms, and during the long interludes at jury duty. All that time this piece was a constant and faithful friend who was always there for me. There were times when it felt that I was not the one creating this piece -- that I was merely serving as a conduit through which a creative energy outside of me flowed through my body. It was as though I was channeling something from a Source much greater than myself.

So now the trick will be to take what I have experienced while possessed by the creative process and translate it into my everyday life. The creative process is not just intended for the creation of art. Rather it is intended for every facet and aspect of life, for living life in itself is an art.