Just for Fun - Orange Gogi Cacao Bliss and Mini Carrot Cakes

Most people are used to having what you call "weekends" - two consecutive days off from work, usually Saturday and Sunday. But in the hospitality biz, other people's weekends are our busiest work days. So we take our days off when we can get them. Last week an amazing thing occurred: I actually had two days off in a row! So what did I do with all this luscious free time?

I played in the kitchen, of course.

And when I say "played," that is exactly what I mean. I was like a child, making only cakes and candies and licking every bowl spotlessly clean.

I've been wanting to experiment with raw cacao butter for ages, and I finally gave it a try. This is the cold-pressed oil of the cacao bean, the same little miracle that gives us chocolate (and is also the basis of white chocolate). It is solid at room temperature, so the challenge is to melt it without heating it above 45 Celsius, and then work with it quickly enough to prevent it from hardening up again before you finish. This was a bit tricky for me in the cold Adelaide winter, but I managed. I probably won't try my hand at cacao again until it warms up here though.

I decided that while one can never have enough chocolate, I wanted to try some less traditional flavors with the cacao butter. So I used Sheryl Duruz's recipe for Orange Gogi Berry White Chocolate, which I found among the culinary delights of The Sunny Raw Kitchen. This dessert is a raw foodist's dream! Not only is it bursting with sweet gogi and orange flavors, creamy mouth-pleasing cacao and cashews, and a bit of cacao nib crunch, but most of the ingredients are energizing antioxidant superfoods.

Chocolate making is a fine art, and I've only just discovered the tip of the iceberg. My first attempt wasn't pretty, but it tasted out-of-this-world. I know I have a long way to go with my chocolate making. But hey, I'm happy to eat my way there.

Orange Gogi Berry White Chocolate
1 cup gogi berries, divided in half
1/2 cup cacao butter
1/2 cup raw cashews
1/2 cup agave nectar
1/2 cup cacao nibs
zest of 1 orange

Grind 1/2 cup of the gogi berries in a spice mill or coffee grinder to achieve a kind of sticky powder. Set aside.

Melt the cacao butter, either in a dehydrator or over a double boiler (place a metal bowl over pot 1/3 filled with water, bring water to rolling boil, and let cacao butter melt, stirring constantly to avoid it getting too hot).

In a food processor, process cacao butter, raw cashews, reserved gogi powder and agave nectar until you achieve a really smooth texture. It will probably have to run for several minutes. Remove mixture to a bowl, scraping out food processor thoroughly (don't forget to lick the bowl!).

Stir in the remaining 1/2 cup whole gogi berries, cacao nibs, and orange zest. Lightly rub a glass pie plate or dish with coconut oil, then spread the chocolate mixture evenly. Place in freezer until firm. When ready, cut into squares.

*Note: This doesn't completely harden, but rather has a slightly sticky, fudgy texture. I needed to use a metal spatula to remove it from the pie plate, and I stored it in the fridge in a container lined with parchment paper.


My other big cooking adventure of my "weekend" (it was a Thursday and a Friday, but it was a weekend to me) was the carob carrot tamarillo cake which I posted recently. While making it, I had some extra carrots, and decided to try the original carrot cake recipe posted by hannah.hunnicutt on goneraw.com. But instead of making a cake, I thought it would be fun to make little cupcakes. Well, wouldn't you know, I couldn't find my cupcake/muffin tray anywhere (where on earth could a tray disappear to?). But I did find an old friand tray, and I used that to mould little individual carrot cakes. So cute! And just the right size for a snack. The orange icing is a perfect complement, too.

Make sure you use good, juicy raisins. I used organic muscatels and walnuts (instead of pecans, in the original recipe) and they were so lovely. I also had to double the quantities originally given in order to fill a tray.

Honestly, these taste just like cooked carrot cake, but they're totally raw. And they don't have any sugar, flour, oil, butter or cream cheese. Once again, I have discovered a small raw miracle.

Mini Carrot Cakes
1 1/2 cups grated carrots, as much moisture squeezed out as possible
1/2 cup dates, pitted
2 Tbsp ground flax seeds
8 Tbsp dried shredded coconut
2 tsp vanilla
4 Tbsp agave nectar
4 Tbsp ground cashews or sunflower seeds
1/2 cups raisins
1/2 cup walnuts or pecans, coarsely chopped
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp nutmeg
1/4 tsp ground ginger
1/2 tsp salt

In a food processor, puree the dates to a smooth paste (this works best with soft California dates, if you're using drier dates you might want to soak them for an hour first). Add all of the remaining ingredients except for the raisins and nuts. Process until combined.

Stir in the raisins and nuts by hand. Rub a muffin or friand tray with a little coconut oil. Evenly distribute the cake batter to make 12 muffins or little cakes. Alternatively, you can mould the cakes by hand on parchment paper. Dehydrate for 4 hours. Remove from tray, flip over, and dehydrate 2 more hours with the other side facing up. Delicious plain or topped with:

Orange Icing
1 cup cashews, soaked 2-3 hours and drained
2 Tbsp agave nectar
2 Tbsp orange juice (from about 1/2 orange)
2 Tbsp coconut oil
1 tsp orange zest
pinch of salt

Place all of the ingredients in a food processor and let it run until you achieve a smooth texture. Spread over carrot cake using a rubber spatula.

The Giving Tree

One day, while strolling in the Adelaide Botanic Gardens, I happened upon a large tree heavy with golden fruit. No, this is not the beginning of a fable, but rather my introduction to the tangy tree tomato, or tamarillo. Being a curious and fearless raw foodist, I went ahead and plucked a ripe fruit for tasting. Beneath a slightly bitter skin lay a sweet, juicy interior with a pleasant hint of tartness - a flavor and texture like a cross between a passionfruit and a tomato. I simply couldn't let this bounty go ungathered, so I returned the next day with a sack and a lookout and picked myself enough tree tomatoes for hours of culinary experimentation. This was urban foraging at its finest.

While it has many traits in common with its vine-grown namesake, such as an abundance of seeds and classification as a fruit, the tree tomato is actually much sweeter and better suited to desserts and chutneys. Hence its 1967 rechristening with the much sexier name "tamarillo" by the New Zealand Tree Tomato Promotions Council. Though the fruit is native to the South American continent, it is cultivated commercially for export in New Zealand, and also widely grown in a dozen other countries scattered through the globe. The fruit's new name is actually more than a cosmetic image boost; it is an expression of the globalization of one humble foodstuff. It reflects its South American origins by incorporating the word "amarillo," meaning yellow, its significance in New Zealand with the word "tama," meaning leadership, and its similarity to the word "tomato."

A lot of my fruit gets eaten whole, as a snack, or mixed into smoothies. But I found the outer flesh of the tamarillo a bit too bitter to enjoy it by itself, and the occasional hard seeds unsuited to smoothies. So it was time for me to get creative.

First off, I took its South American origins as inspiration and created a salsa. Not a traditional vegetable salsa, but a tangy-sweet fruit salsa, that could be eaten as a condiment or a side salad. Pear was my choice as a subtly sweet counterpoint to the tamarillo's tartness, and I dressed the combination up simply with fresh flavors of coriander, red onion, and apple cider vinegar. This recipe is simple, versatile, and delicious. What more can you want?

Tamarillo and Pear Salsa
2 large red sensation pears, cut into 1/4 inch dice
8 tamarillos, cut into 1/4 inch dice, hard seeds carefully removed
1/2 bunch fresh coriander, minced
1/4 red onion, minced
1/2 tsp dried coriander
2 Tbsp apple cider vinegar
dash of Himalayan salt

Chop pears and tamarillos into 1/4 inch dice, being careful to remove the hard seeds from the tamarillo (located in the flesh along the sides). Mince coriander and red onion and toss with fruits. Add dried coriander, vinegar, and salt, and toss to coat. Serves 6-8 as condiment, 4 as a side dish (shown here with Mexican corn salad - a post for another day).


My next idea was to make a chutney, inspired by tomato-ginger chutneys I've enjoyed in the past alongside Indian food. This was made to accompany my caulibroc curry, and it served as a sweet flavor counterpoint to the spicy curry.



Tamarillo Chutney
1 cup tamarillos, finely chopped and hard seeds removed (approx. 6-8 tamarillos)
2 Tbsp minced or grated fresh ginger
1/2 bunch fresh coriander, minced
1 tsp fresh chili, minced
1/2 tsp cumin
1/4 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp clove
1/4 tsp dried coriander
1 tsp honey
1/2 tsp apple cider vinegar
1 tsp oil (olive, safflower, sunflower, or other mild oil)

Finely chop tamarillos. Add minced ginger, coriander, chili and spices. Mix thoroughly. Whisk together honey, vinegar and oil. Toss with tamarillo mixture coat. Stir chutney until it becomes paste-like, and allow to rest for at least 1/2 hour before serving for flavors to develop. Serve with vegetable curry. *Variations: if your curry is very spicy you may wish to omit the chili in the chutney. The chutney can be made sweeter, to taste, by adding more honey. Or add one minced clove of garlic if you dare!


Happy with my salad and condiment experiments, I wanted to try using the tamarillo in a dessert to really highlight its sweet, gooey interior. This time I looked closer to home for my inspiration. Since the fruit grows so well in Australia and New Zealand, why not draw upon the world of Kiwi and Down Under desserts? And why not use the tamarillo seeds like passionfruit? My first thought was of the ubiquitous passionfruit-topped pavlova, but creating a raw version of the meringue-like cake baffled me. Scrapping the pavlova idea, I decided that carob would be a good flavor match for the tamarillos, if I could find the right platform. My next thought was to create something reminiscent of a self-saucing carob pudding, topped with tamarillos. Again, I just didn't know how to create a raw cake with a hard exterior and soft interior.

Finally, I saw this carrot cake recipe posted at goneraw.com. Eureka! The moistness and natural sweetness of a carrot cake was exactly what I was looking for. With a few changes and the addition of carob powder, I had my cake base. In between cake layers and for a beautifully tempting top, I added a simple cashew cream icing and lots of tamarillo seeds. This is a pretty special cake: very raw, very Australian, and very serendipitous.

Carob Carrot Tamarillo Cake

Cake
3 cups grated carrot
1 cup pitted dates, preferably California (if not the soft Cali kind, soak them in water for an hour to soften)
1/4 cup ground flax seeds
1 cup shredded dried coconut
4 tsp vanilla extract
1/4 cup agave nectar
1/2 cup ground cashews
6 Tbsp carob powder
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp nutmeg
1/2 tsp ground ginger
1 tsp salt

Topping
1 1/2 cups cashews, soaked in water to cover at least 2 hours and drained
2 Tbsp agave nectar
2 tsp lemon juice
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
water as needed
15 tamarillos

Grate or shred carrots (I use the grater attachment on my food processor for this - saves time and your knuckles compared to the old-fashioned hand grater). Place grated carrots in a fine mesh seive and press out as much liquid as possible. Pour the carrot juice into a glass and drink up (you need your energy while unbaking!). Alternatively, if you're a juicer, save the pulp from juicing carrots and use that instead.

Place dates in food processor and process into a paste. Add all of the remaining cake ingredients and process until well mixed. You will probably need to do this in 2 batches unless you have a really huge food processor.

Rub 2 springform cake pans with a little oil (I like coconut). Divide batter evenly between pans and spread smoothly using a rubber spatula. Dehydrate at 45 celsius/115 farenheit for 4 hours (this can be done in large tray dehydrator or oven, if your oven can be set at low temps). Remove sides of springform pans and invert cakes onto plates. One at a time, slide a large blunt knife or pie serving utensil along edges and under cakes to remove them from the bottom of springform pans. Place cakes, plate and all, back into dehydrator for another 2 hours.

Meanwhile, make your icing. Place soaked and drained cashews, agave, lemon juice and vanilla in food processor. Process until smooth and creamy, adding water as need to achieve a rich yet light consistency.

Cut the tamarillos in half lengthwise and scoop out the seeds, making sure to avoid the hard seeds in the fleshy lining. Place the seeds into a bowl and set aside.

Remove both cakes from the dehydrator. Spread 1/3 of the icing over one cake with a knife or spatula. Top with 1/2 of the tamarillo seeds. Carefully place the second cake over the first. Top with another 1/3 of the icing. Spread the remaining 1/3 of the icing around the sides of the cake. Top with cake with the other 1/2 of the tamarillo seeds. Cut as desired and serve!

Have a square, or three! I brought this cake to a raw potluck so we cut it into squares for easy sharing. Good thing I took a photo of it before I left home (in dismal nighttime lighting), because it was consumed quickly! Thank you, tamarillo tree.

Brrr...Chili!

Nothing says winter like a big, hearty bowl of chili. And since winter has wrapped it icy tenticles firmly about me, it's time to take the chili challenge. Now I know what you're thinking: a gurgling pot of beef, beans, and spices, perhaps topped with a dollop of sour cream and some shredded cheese. Delicious, yes. Warming, yes. Stodgy, yes. Raw? Most emphatically no.

But as my friend and fellow gastronome Leena of Leena Eats has proven with her chili cookoff, there is more than one way to cook a chili. According to Leena, a chili must contain chili peppers, liquid, veggies or meat, and may or may not contain beans. Her cookoff featured traditional three bean chili, Asian style super-hot chili, Aussie-fied chili (kangaroo, golden syrup and vegemite, anyone?), chocolate chili and white chicken chili, to name a few. The one thing all of these diverse chilis have in common, aside from the presence of spice? They are all cooked.

Leena's many chilis inspired me to take the chili challenge myself: a personal chili un-cookoff. I wanted to create a base that had the substantial texture of meat, and would also absorb the spices and flavors of the sauce. So I went with a one-two punch of eggplant and mushrooms - the "meats" of the veggie world. The key is to soften the base vegetables by marinating for several hours. A hit of fresh corn adds color and texture contrast, and sundried tomatoes provide a rich flavor for the spicy sauce.

All raw, all veggies, all satisfying. Truly a chili to warm my raw soul.

Winter Chili
1 eggplant, cut into 1cm (1/4 inch) dice
5 swiss brown mushrooms, cut into 1cm (1/4 inch) dice
1 ear sweetcorn, cut off of cob
5 cherry tomatoes, quartered
2 cloves garlic minced
1/4 red onion, minced
juice of 1/2 lemon
2 Tbsp olive oil
3 tsp Himalayan salt
1 cup sundried tomatoes, soaked in water to cover
6 cherry tomatoes, or one regular tomato, chopped
1/4 cup olive oil
1 clove garlic
1/2 tsp cumin powder
1/4 tsp cayenne pepper
1/4 tsp cinnamon powder
1/4 tsp coriander powder
2 tsp fresh oregano, or 1/2 tsp dried

In a large container with a lid, mix the diced eggplant, mushrooms, sweetcorn, cherry tomatoes, garlic and onion.

In a small bowl, whisk together the lemon juice, olive oil and salt. Pour over diced vegetables and toss to coat.

Let the vegetables marinate at room temperature for at least 6 hours (longer is okay).

Just before serving, combine the sundried tomatoes, half of the soaking liquid, the cherry tomatoes or chopped tomato, olive oil, garlic and spices in a food processor. Process until you achieve a thick sauce, adding more soaking liquid if necessary.

Toss the sauce with the marinated vegetables and serve.

*For really deep, dazzling flavor, make the chili the day before and let all the flavors mingle. You could then gently warm it in a pot, being careful not to let the temperature exceed 45/115.

Oreo Milkshake

Just in case my oreo pie recipe didn't clue you in, I'll let you in on a dirty little secret. I love oreos. In my pre-raw days, I used to indulge in a box of these seemingly innocent little biscuits more often than I'd like to admit. I say seemingly innocent because in advertisements, they are always being eaten by sweet little children, joyfully dunking their sandwich cookies in tall glasses of creamy milk.

Now I know that the biscuits are made of white flour and a dozen other nasty ingredients that I'm not keen to ingest, and I don't even want to contemplate how they make that cream. But the flavor and texture combination is just so good! Hence, my desire to recreate the oreo experience in a healthy, natural form. Or shall I say forms. Because an oreo pie is great for a special occasion, but it's not something I'm going to whip up for my inner child for an after school (or work) snack.

And so, the oreo milkshake was born. It can be made in under 15 minutes - perfect for an indulgent afternoon snack. The hardest part is opening the young coconut, but once you've done it a few times it will only take you a few minutes. If you want to try this recipe and it's your first coconut, I suggest reading up on how to open a young coconut.

Furthermore, this delicious milkshake is full of nutritional goodness and will leave you positively bursting with energy. Coconut water is among the most hydrating substances on earth, so it will really give your body a boost that you will feel instantly. Raw cacao is full of antioxidants, magnesium, and natural mood elevators (think dopamine, seratonin, anandamine, phenylethylamine, and MAO inhibitors). Yes, there's a reason human beings love eating chocolate: it makes us feel bliss and well-being. I eat it at least once a day, but in its natural, more potent and less adulterated form. The milkshake also contains vanilla bean, which is also associated with feelings of well-being, gogi berries which are high in antioxidants, agave nectar which contains many trace minerals and is a low-GI sweetener, and coconut oil, a great healing oil that is good for the skin and associated with weight loss. Talk about a super snack!

Oreo cookies and a glass of milk have nothing on this milkshake.

Oreo Milkshake
(serves 2)
1 young coconut
1/2 vanilla bean
2 Tbsp raw cacao powder
2 Tbsp gogi berries
1 Tbsp coconut oil
1 1/2 Tbsp agave nectar, or to taste

Open the coconut and pour the liquid into a powerful blender. Scrape the soft coconut flesh out with a spoon and add to the blender. Add the 1/2 vanilla bean, cacao powder, gogi berries, coconut oil and agave nectar. Blend on high until all the ingredients are fully combined.

Garnish with dried shredded coconut and cacao nibs, if desired. Drink, enjoy, and feel the energy!

Caulibroc: Nature's Love Child

Boys and girls, it's time for a little lesson about the birds and the bees. When a nice broccoli falls in love with a beautiful young cauliflower, they express their love in a special way, and we get...

Caulibroc!

Thanks to a brave Adelaide grower who took a chance (or an illicit love affair in the vegetable patch), my local organic was stocked up with these gorgeous babies. With big purple blooms atop pale green stalks, I think they look like a raw foodie's bridal bouquet - although this would be pretty hefty to carry down the aisle.

With a normal cauliflower, I'd give it a simple treatment: chopped up into small bits, drizzled with olive or flaxseed oil, and sprinkled with salt. I like to think of this crunchy concoction as my raw substitute for popcorn. But with the caulibroc, I wanted to make something a little bit special - to dress it up with colors and flavors. Aloo gobi, the spicy Indian curry featuring cauliflower and potatoes, came to mind, so I looked to the subcontinent for inspiration. To my humble yet exotic caulibroc I added some green peas for a color contrast, mushrooms for texture, and lots of spice to please the palate.

Here's my raw curry fix, a recipe almost as spicy as the vegetable romance that inspired it.

Caulibroc Curry
1 head caulibroc, cut into florets
½ cup fresh shelled peas
2 cups sliced mushrooms
1 bunch fresh coriander/cilantro, leaves and stems separated
¼ cup cold pressed oil (olive, flaxseed, safflower, etc.)
Himalayan salt
1 fresh chili
½ cup sundried tomatoes, soaked, liquid reserved
1 Tbsp fresh grated ginger
½ small onion, chopped
1 tsp cumin powder
2 tsp tumeric powder
1 tsp curry powder
½ tsp honey/agave

Combine caulibroc florets, shelled peas, and sliced mushrooms in a large bowl. Drizzle with half of the oil and sprinkle with sea salt. Let the vegetables soften while preparing the sauce.

In a powerful blender, combine the remaining oil, coriander stems, chili, sundried tomatoes, ginger, onion, cumin, tumeric, curry powder and honey or agave. Add half of the tomato soaking liquid and blend, adding more liquid as necessary to create a sauce of medium thickness.

Toss the curry sauce with the vegetables. Spread the vegetables over lined dehydrator sheets and dehydrate at 115 F/45 C for 2-3 hours to warm and soften the curry. Remove from dehydrator, top with chopped coriander leaves.

Shown here with tamarillo chutney, made from tamarillos that I sneakily picked from the Botanic Gardens. But that's a story for another day.

What is Raw Gastronomy?

Let's play a little game. What did you have for breakfast this morning? I'll go first. I had my favorite (at the moment) green smoothie: 2 bananas, a large handful of mint, 3 big spinach leaves, a teaspoon of maca, a teaspoon of chia seeds, and water, blended. Then I went to work, where I served lots of people their breakfasts. Some of them had scrambled eggs with asparagus and pancetta. Others had sourdough toast with raspberry jam and cream. Some just had coffee.

Why did you choose to eat what you did? I chose my breakfast because I think it tastes good, it gives me lots of energy, and I know, intellectually, that it's full of nutrition. Similarly, each customer in the restaurant read through the menu and made their breakfast choice based upon a set of ideas in their head - though their choices were shaped somewhat by what the chef decided to include on the menu (no green smoothies, unfortunately).

Basically, gastronomy is a discipline concerned with what you ate for breakfast. It also covers why you made that choice, the setting in which you consumed it, who you ate with, what you talked about, what sorts of dishes and utensils you used, who cooked it, who grew and processed the ingredients, the cookbook your recipe came from, the development of the dish, what nutrients your meal contained, and just about every other aspect of food and dining that you can think of. Etymologically, the word means "rules relating to the stomach, to eating and drinking," but the term as we use it today refers to something much more specific. Perhaps Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, the father of French gastronomy and original food writer, defined it best: "the reasoned understanding of everything that concerns us insofar as we sustain ourselves." Gastronomy is not the study of cookery, cuisine, or nutrition; it is the discourse on these topics.

So what does gastronomy have to do with raw foodism? The raw foods concept is one based upon a basic nutritional precept: the retention of life-giving enzymes. In their natural state, fresh foods contain enzymes that assist in the digestion and absorption of nutrients. Once heated above 116 F (45 C), the enzymes start to break down, hindering the body's ability to absorb the food's nutrients. Not only is the body forced to produce its own enzymes to digest the food, which is a strain on the system, but it also treats the cooked foods as toxins, releasing white blood cells to attack the invaders. In a nutshell, eating raw foods gives the body more nutrients in a much more efficient manner, leaving lots of energy for other tasks aside from digesting. The result: eating raw makes a person feel more energetic, alive, and happy, as well as promoting general health and even reversing chronic illnesses.

Being a raw foodist can be the simplest thing in the world. What's more simple than reaching for a bowl of fruit when you're hungry, or cracking some raw nuts, or making a big salad? In fact, most of my day-to-day meals are simply salads, smoothies, or fruit. But if you've read the rest of my blog, you've noticed that I include many ingredients beyond fresh fruits and vegetables. That's where gastronomy comes into play.

Long before I discovered raw, I loved to create in the kitchen. I love the interplay of flavor, texture, color. I love the sensuality of eating. I love the energy of putting a meal together and the joy in sharing my creations with others. For me, becoming a raw foodist does not mean the end of this passion; rather, I have redefined it. In raw food preparation, we do the same things as cooked-food cooks, we just use a different set of ingredients, techniques and equipment. Ultimately, a raw chef has the same imperative as a cooked chef: to create flavorful dishes with respect to the integrity of the ingredients.

From the perspective of gastronomy, I hold raw food preparation to be a cuisine of its own. Any cuisine has rules attached to it: rules of what is considered food and non-food, rules as to how particular ingredients are treated, rules as to how foods are combined, rules as to techniques and equipment used. A cuisine necessarily requires a group of people with a common understanding of these rules. Raw cuisine takes as the boundaries of food anything either in a natural state, or that has been processed without heating to a temperature leading the denaturing of enzymes. There are also a whole new set of ingredients found in raw cuisine, many of which provide flavors and nutrition not found in simple fruits and vegetables. Some of these are the superfoods, which will have to be a post of its own in the future! As for preparation, nothing is off limits as long as it keeps the enzymes in tact. Common preparations can be as simple as chopping and mixing, and as complex as dehydrating, blending, processing and freezing. The stove and oven are no longer necessary, with new equipment such as a dehydrator, spiralizer and blender taking their places. Unlike many traditional cuisines, the boundaries of the community of raw food cooks is not geographical but ideological, largely thanks to the ease of communication today using digital media.

Raw gastronomy, then, is simply the act of writing about raw foods from all angles. To me, this can't just be approached from a scientific/nutritional angle, or an intellectual angle, or a hedonistic angle, or an emotional angle. My love of food is many faceted. Therefore my writing about raw food should express all of the ways in which food nourishes me. Raw gastronomy is what my mind chews on long after my breakfast is over.

Red Cabbage Salad with Sweet Sesame Dressing

I have the winter blues. I miss hot sunshine on my shoulders, heating my body and warming my moods. I miss late lazy afternoons lingering into evenings. Most of all, I miss the sunny fruits of summer - mangoes, peaches, cherries, and my favorites, figs.

The good news is, Adelaide is still a very fertile place in winter. I may not be able to get my juicy summer yummies for a while, but I can get some other delicious fruits and vegetables. I have been going hard on the vanilla persimmons lately - sometimes I'll eat five or six of them for my lunch! My local organic has some great varieties of apples and pears that can't be found on any conventional market shelves. But best of all are the hearty greens and cabbages.

I bought my first head of red cabbage the other day, and I am in love. Crispy, juicy, sweet and spicy - an explosion of flavor and texture in my mouth. And the color - wow! Something so beautifully purple just has to be full of antioxidants and other goodies. I decided to dress this up simply, mixing in some other crunchy, colorful veggies and topping it with a sweet, tangy Asian dressing. The result was a crowd-pleaser among both the raw and non-raw folks at my house.

This salad will help keep the winter blues at bay.

Red Cabbage Salad with Sweet Sesame Dressing
1/2 head red cabbage
1 large or 2 small red capsicum/bell pepper
1/2 carrot
2 heads of bok choy
1/4 cup honey
1/4 cup apple cider vinegar
1 bunch coriander/cilantro
2 Tbsp tamari
2 Tbsp black sesame seeds
a few drops of sesame oil

Finely chop the cabbage and bok choy. Cut the capsicum into thin slices and julienne the carrot. Mix the vegetables in a large bowl and set aside.

In a blender or food processor, mix the honey, apple cider vinegar, coriander and tamari. Pour into a bowl and mix in the black sesame seeds and sesame oil. Pour dressing over salad and toss to coat.

Serves 4 as a main dish, more as a side.