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Any ideas, recipes for creating a vegetarian main dish using spatzle. I'm thinking, cheese, mushrooms, but am drawing a blank beyond that... Any ideas appreciated!

I'll be visiting the DC area this coming weekend with a vegetarian friend, and am looking for good veg/veg-friendly restaurant recommendations. Any ideas would be greatly appreciated. Thanks!

Italian Gratin Serves 6 as Main Dish. This is a lazyman's lasagna with more taste but less formality and eggplant. Quick and simple to make a large amount of decent food. This is a Moosewood receipe, I've really only altered some of the ingredient amounts compared to their original. 1 handful fresh basil 3 onions 3 c Tomatoes, or a 28 oz can 4 cloves garlic 3 c spinach leaves 4 c mushrooms 1 tsp salt 1 T olive oil 1 c bread crumbs 1 c dried pasta, some type of small shell 2 c freshly grated parmesan cheese Preheat your oven to 350 degrees. I used a 13" by 9" glass lasagna type dish that my mom left at my place to make this dish. Oil the dish. Mix together the onions, basil, salt, and tomatoes. Heat the oil in a small frypan over medium heat. I might try some butter next time instead of the oil. Throw in the garlic and the bread crumbs and cook for about 3 minutes, until the bread crumbs are lightly browned. Remove from the hot pan and set aside. Spread out half of your tomato mixture in the bottom of the oiled dish. Sprinkle the pasta for the next layer. Then a layer of spinach, then mushrooms, and then half of your cheese. Top it off with the rest of the tomato mixture then the browned bread crumbs. Cover with foil and and bake for about 25 minutes. Remove the foil and bake for another 20 minutes. Serve it up with a green salad following behind. Keywords: Main Dish, Dinner, Vegetarian, Italian ( RG770 )

Italian Gratin Serves 6 as Main Dish. This is a lazyman's lasagna with more taste but less formality and eggplant. Quick and simple to make a large amount of decent food. This is a Moosewood receipe, I've really only altered some of the ingredient amounts compared to their original. 1 handful fresh basil 3 onions 3 c Tomatoes, or a 28 oz can 4 cloves garlic 3 c spinach leaves 4 c mushrooms 1 tsp salt 1 T olive oil 1 c bread crumbs 1 c dried pasta, some type of small shell 2 c freshly grated parmesan cheese Preheat your oven to 350 degrees. I used a 13" by 9" glass lasagna type dish that my mom left at my place to make this dish. Oil the dish. Mix together the onions, basil, salt, and tomatoes. Heat the oil in a small frypan over medium heat. I might try some butter next time instead of the oil. Throw in the garlic and the bread crumbs and cook for about 3 minutes, until the bread crumbs are lightly browned. Remove from the hot pan and set aside. Spread out half of your tomato mixture in the bottom of the oiled dish. Sprinkle the pasta for the next layer. Then a layer of spinach, then mushrooms, and then half of your cheese. Top it off with the rest of the tomato mixture then the browned bread crumbs. Cover with foil and and bake for about 25 minutes. Remove the foil and bake for another 20 minutes. Serve it up with a green salad following behind. Keywords: Main Dish, Dinner, Vegetarian, Italian ( RG770 )

OK, I suspect that I'm setting myself up for some flack here, but I'm getting desperate. I have committed to coming up with a vegetarian entree at Thanksgiving to serve alongside my turkey. The challenge I have is that the requested dish needs to have some protein in it (I'm serving lots of sides already suitable for a vegetarian), the requesting vegetarian doesn't particularly care for eggs, lentils, or tofu. I'd like the dish to also match well with the rest of the main meal, which will be as follows: 1. pumpkin bread, cranberry bread, and biscuits 2. cranberry-apple-pear compote 3. mashed potatos (and gravy, of course - I'm making turkey gravy and a vegetarian one) 4. orange-pecan-sweet potato dish 5. sauteed lemon and sage haricots verts 6. turkey 7. possibly pumpkin soup 8. dessert, as yet undecided Does anyone out there have any suggestions?

To read all the parts of this series please click: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII Just a quick final report on my time in Beijing, for purposes of closure and sharing-of-photos . . . Checking into the creatively named Beijing Hotel was a delicious (no, really) luxury. By the time J and I had showered ("shower" doesn't do justice to the offerings at the Beijing Hotel: the entire Australian Olympic swim team could have trained in the enormous tub in the adjoining room, while watching Chinese soap operas and sipping the jasmine or green teas provided to every guest), and satisfied our instincts to wrap ourselves up in the plush robes and terry slippers in the closet, the trials and tribulations of Mongolia were already fading into a rosy light. Our first stop was the Forbidden City. En route, we walked past Tianamen Square but decided against starting any protests -- after all, J only had this one day, which didn't allow much play in the schedule for altercations with law enforcement officials. We wanted to spend the bulk of our time exploring Mao's legacy (or at least the pretty part of it). We decided to go with the audio tour. Pierce Brosnan was our audio guide. Oh, how very! He kept talking about history and such, and all I could think was "Bond, James Bond." We spent hours upon hours viewing the opulence that Mao had enjoyed -- and we also engaged in a healthy amount people watching. It was Saturday so there were many more Chinese tourists out and about than Westerners. Before we entered the Forbidden City, we lined up alongside the Chinese tourists to have our photo taken with the enormous picture of Chairman Mao that hangs from the outside of the City's wall. First I took J's picture, then she took mine. Then we wanted one of us together. (We were at this point fully embracing our inner tourists.) This is when things started to unfold as in a silent movie. J asked a family of Chinese tourists, by gesturing to herself and the camera, if they would take a picture of us. Hey, I understood it, but apparently the universal international sign-language for "please take a photo of us" hasn't made it to China yet. Before we knew it, the Chinese tourist-in-chief had, with military precision, rounded up his whole family and put them in a photograph with J. Then, he took several photos of his family with her, not for her. Further gesturing was successful, though: after we repeatedly pointed to ourselves, Chairman Mao, and our cameras, a light-bulb went off in the kind fellow's head and he took a picture of me and J together in front of the Chairman. Later in the week, I ascertained -- after seeing it happen a few times -- that Western tourists are considered an exotic-enough curiosity (and us, a blonde and a redhead no less) that the Chinese tourists have a widespread desire to have their photos taken with us. We stumbled upon a night market, although it was really a late-afternoon market because it got into full swing at about 4:00pm. The market consisted of a lineup of about forty booths selling all sorts of Chinese delights. While I hadn't burned out my camera battery at the Forbidden City (as most other tourists might do), I feared that this would be the end of my "juice" for the trip. The market was so fascinating. I couldn't take enough photos -- there must have been 500 different food-on-a-stick items on offer. After Mongolia, the selection made me drool almost uncontrollably -- even if it was over skewered starfish and scorpions. Here are just a few examples. If you know what's good for you, you'll skip very quickly over the last photo-on-a-stick here: My plan was to walk the entire length of the line of booths, see what looked good, and make my selections on the return. But J had no patience for my methodical plan and after we passed the fourth or fifth booth she thrust her camera at me and said "can you hold this?" and laid down her Yuan to get herself some steaming hot dumplings. I could hear her emitting little sounds of pleasure (grunts, squeals, etc. -- she was like something out of one of Ruth Reichl's restaurant reviews, the proverbial moaning lady at the next table; "I'll have what she's having," sorry to mix references . . .) as she scarfed down her dumplings. It was after 4:00pm and we had hardly had a bite to eat all day (J slept through the meal on our return flight to Beijing, and I can tell you from experience that she didn't miss much). Okay, dive right in. That's one way to do it. I walked on and next thing I knew, J was gesturing to the guy at a moo shoo pancake (or something similar) booth. I didn't even have time to snap a picture. Before I could react, the guy had pulled the crepe-sized pancake off the hot metal griddle and, in the blink of an eye, he ran a spatula of some kind of plum sauce derivative (it was wonderfully spicy) across the pancake and then scooped a selection of steaming sauteed julienne vegetables into the pancake's center. He wrapped it up and handed it off to her in a few quick movements. Too fast for me to take even a single picture of the process (luckily, more customers came along shortly). Now I could hear J grunting full-throttle and, with the sauce dripping down her hand, she gestured to me and said "you should try this -- this is a good one and it's all vegetables." (My multiple mutton encounters in Mongolia were pushing me dangerously close to a relapse into vegetarianism.) I tried to take a dainty bite but found that a thin line of sauce was dripping down my chin. Before I finished chewing, I gestured to the guy -- yeah, I'll take one of these too. J and I continued down the row and back up again to the beginning. I bought some melon-on-a-stick. This would be one of my mainstays over the course of the next week -- but I grossly overpaid at the market (the prices were posted) 5Y as opposed to the 1Y I later paid on street corners all over the city. I didn't know or care at the time, though. Ignorance was bliss and the cantaloupe-like melon was delicious. We had just enough time to hurry down the main shopping mall, past all of the McDonald's, KFC, and Starbuck's stores that were interspersed with the local Chinese shops and chains, and back to our hotel for another quick shower, a few laps in the tub, and cup of Jasmine tea before our big event of the day . . . J has a Chinese friend in Australia whose very best childhood friends live in Beijing. While Cunxin has not seen his "brothers" for many years, he urged J to contact them upon our arrival. The wife of "the Bandit" (as I understand it, Cunxin's best friend and blood brother from his youth) was the English speaker so she had made the arrangements with J to pick us up at our hotel and take us to the restaurant they had selected for dinner. Nothing about that evening could have been better. The company was delightful, the weather was perfect, we sat at a large table with a lazy susan in the middle, the windows opened onto the lake nearby. And then the food began to arrive. The table for eight that had seemed so large for the five of us now was inadequate to contain all of the plates that our gracious hosts had ordered. We ate Beijing duck (which they call Peking duck) in Beijing! Then we ate everything else on the menu. And the tea! The chrysanthemum tea was exquisite. Chinese-restaurant tea is, where I come from, the lowest form of tea -- lukewarm water flavored with old leaves from lord-knows-what plant. Here, I couldn't stop admiring the pot full of beautiful buds. We communicated around the table with hand gestures and the "Bandit's" wife busily translating to keep all of us in the loop. By all accounts it was a flawless evening and J and I were sorry to leave our new friends. But J had to be up at 5:00 the next morning to catch her return flight home and that severe case of bronchitis still wouldn't relinquish its hold on her. J and I settled in with a last cup of tea together. In the morning she would be gone and I'd be on my own to explore Beijing for almost a whole week. What was there to say? I wouldn't have wanted to make that trip with anyone else -- I'm sure I wouldn't have even considered it. Funny, I had only just met J two years before -- not long in the scheme of things -- and when we had set out to Nepal together that fateful September of 2001, I had only met her once. While I had thought we'd get along well enough, sharing a tent together with someone for weeks through pouring rain, a leaking tent, leeches, and constipation, I had no idea that she would quickly become one of my closest friends and my favorite traveling companion (with the exception of my top team: my husband and dog, Momo). So, what was there to say? J crawled into bed and I took another hot shower under the powerful stream of the massaging shower head. By the time I came out, she was sound asleep under the big, fluffy white comforter. I left her a note with a dollar for safe travels home and an explanation of its meaning (lest she think I'm a crazy cheapskate). It's a Jewish tradition to give money to travelers for charity to be donated at the end of their journey. The idea being that if the person is a messenger of a charitable donation, no harm will come to her on the voyage. I wished she would stay. Surely my week in Beijing wouldn't be the same without her but I had promised to take pictures for her as if she were right there with me. What a long, strange trip it's been. Thanks everybody for reading along. To read all the parts of this series please click: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII

French toast Serves 4 as Main Dish. This is a very simple and easy dish which is also very forgiving. My measurements are slightly rough and can always be adjusted to your own taste. 1 loaf Brioche (I use Whole Foods brioche-I estimate it weighs around 24 ounces) 4 X-lg. eggs (5 if you slice the bread thin) pinch salt 1 tsp. cinnamon 2 tablespoons brown sugar 1/4-1/2 c. milk 1 tbs. butter 1 tbs. canola oil Slice brioche into 1/2 inch slices (cautions: try to make slices as even & flat as possible; also, cutting slices too thin will cause them to break & cutting too thick will not allow egg batter to penetrate them sufficiently--try to find a happy medium). Whip eggs, milk, salt and half the cinnamon and half the brown sugar in mixing bowl. Soak each individual slice in batter briefly. Heat stovetop griddle to med.-high heat. Add a portion of the butter and oil. Lay slices onto griddle. While cooking, sprinkle remainder of brown sugar and cinnamon on top of cooking slices. Cook on each side around 2 minutes being careful not to burn (which can easily dry out & ruin the French toast). While cooking, pay attention to griddle flame adjusting if it's cooking too hot. Serve with either fresh fruit, jam and/or maple syrup. Keywords: Vegetarian, Easy, American, Breakfast ( RG748 )

French toast Serves 4 as Main Dish. This is a very simple and easy dish which is also very forgiving. My measurements are slightly rough and can always be adjusted to your own taste. 1 loaf Brioche (I use Whole Foods brioche-I estimate it weighs around 24 ounces) 4 X-lg. eggs (5 if you slice the bread thin) pinch salt 1 tsp. cinnamon 2 tablespoons brown sugar 1/4-1/2 c. milk 1 tbs. butter 1 tbs. canola oil Slice brioche into 1/2 inch slices (cautions: try to make slices as even & flat as possible; also, cutting slices too thin will cause them to break & cutting too thick will not allow egg batter to penetrate them sufficiently--try to find a happy medium). Whip eggs, milk, salt and half the cinnamon and half the brown sugar in mixing bowl. Soak each individual slice in batter briefly. Heat stovetop griddle to med.-high heat. Add a portion of the butter and oil. Lay slices onto griddle. While cooking, sprinkle remainder of brown sugar and cinnamon on top of cooking slices. Cook on each side around 2 minutes being careful not to burn (which can easily dry out & ruin the French toast). While cooking, pay attention to griddle flame adjusting if it's cooking too hot. Serve with either fresh fruit, jam and/or maple syrup. Keywords: Vegetarian, Easy, American, Breakfast ( RG748 )

What do you make out of vegetarianism? If you had been a vegetarian for many years and decided to start eating meat again, what meat would you start with and why?

I'm having a dinner party tonight, and decided to cook seasonally - hit the market, see what I could get, and come home and cook it. I ended up with two fresh grass fed Amish chickens (bought directly from some Amish folks) and some brussel sprouts, butternut squash and leeks. I'll be using the leeks to attempt to recreate Lady T's fabulous scallopped potatoes from the Heartland Gathering, but I'm looking for inspiration on the other two veggies. Anybody got any good ideas? All the side dishes need to be vegetarian. Thanks!

So I had some carrots the other day, and I was thinking, why is it that people don't eat carrot greens very often? Other root vegetables: beet greens, turnip greens... hell, celery even, is the greens of a root vegetable (so to speak, I'm painting with a broad brush here; I know about the different kinds of celeries and all). So I ate some raw. They were nice. Bitter, but fresh tasting, not carroty in the same way beet greens taste beety. Didn't make me sick or anything. I'm going to make them more often. A quick search on the web turned upmostly raw food, vegan, vegetarian, and other special-diet sites, but no "normal" ones. Therefore I would like to claim that if carrot greens become the next hip fad vegetable, you heard it here first.

Matzo Brei Serves 2 as Main Dish. My wife gave me the key to great matzo brei: run the matzo under hot water. Here's how I make it (for two) 1 T olive oil 1/2 T butter 5 pieces of matzo 3 extra-large eggs 2 T milk or cream pinch salt and pepper pinch tarragon and/or dill 1/2 onion, diced Run matzo under hot water, 5 seconds or so for each piece. Let pieces sit for 5 minutes to absorb water. Whisk eggs together with milk or cream. Add salt, pepper and herbs. Break matzo pieces 2-3 inches square and add to egg mixture. Let matzo sit in liquid ingredients for 10-15 minutes. Heat oil and butter in skillet. When hot, add diced onions and saute till they are translucent (but not burnt). Add matzo-egg mixture stirring lightly to mix onions and matzo together. Cook approx. 4 minutes on medium heat. When matzo mixture has firmed enough so that it can be flipped with spatula, do so. Be careful not to overcook. After flipping, let mixture cook another minute or two (lower heat if it is cooking too fast). When done, it should be moist, but firm. I do not like crisp, dry matzo brei though perhaps some do. Keywords: Breakfast, Easy, Vegetarian, Jewish, Passover ( RG741 )

Matzo Brei Serves 2 as Main Dish. My wife gave me the key to great matzo brei: run the matzo under hot water. Here's how I make it (for two) 1 T olive oil 1/2 T butter 5 pieces of matzo 3 extra-large eggs 2 T milk or cream pinch salt and pepper pinch tarragon and/or dill 1/2 onion, diced Run matzo under hot water, 5 seconds or so for each piece. Let pieces sit for 5 minutes to absorb water. Whisk eggs together with milk or cream. Add salt, pepper and herbs. Break matzo pieces 2-3 inches square and add to egg mixture. Let matzo sit in liquid ingredients for 10-15 minutes. Heat oil and butter in skillet. When hot, add diced onions and saute till they are translucent (but not burnt). Add matzo-egg mixture stirring lightly to mix onions and matzo together. Cook approx. 4 minutes on medium heat. When matzo mixture has firmed enough so that it can be flipped with spatula, do so. Be careful not to overcook. After flipping, let mixture cook another minute or two (lower heat if it is cooking too fast). When done, it should be moist, but firm. I do not like crisp, dry matzo brei though perhaps some do. Keywords: Breakfast, Easy, Vegetarian, Jewish, Passover ( RG741 )

Beet salad Serves 10 as Salad. I've made this for a couple of Heartland parties and everyone likes it. Feel free to substitute different kinds of vinegar, oil, or blue cheese. 3 lb baby beets 2 medium red onions, sliced 6 oz Maytag Blue cheese 2 T Dijon Mustard 3 T Sherry Vinegar 6 T Extra Virgin Olive Oil Salt and Pepper to taste Whisk together the mustard, sherry vinegar, salt and pepper. Slowly add the olive oil and continue to whisk to make a vinegrette. The vinegrette should be a little more acidic than normal. Add the sliced onion to vinegrette. Boil the beets until fork tender. Peel, cut them in half, and slice into half moons. Add the beets to the vinegrette and stir. Crumble the blue cheese and add 2/3 to the beets and store. Sprinkle the remaining blue cheese over the top of the salad. Keywords: Salad, Vegetarian, Vegetables ( RG734 )

Beet salad Serves 10 as Salad. I've made this for a couple of Heartland parties and everyone likes it. Feel free to substitute different kinds of vinegar, oil, or blue cheese. 3 lb baby beets 2 medium red onions, sliced 6 oz Maytag Blue cheese 2 T Dijon Mustard 3 T Sherry Vinegar 6 T Extra Virgin Olive Oil Salt and Pepper to taste Whisk together the mustard, sherry vinegar, salt and pepper. Slowly add the olive oil and continue to whisk to make a vinegrette. The vinegrette should be a little more acidic than normal. Add the sliced onion to vinegrette. Boil the beets until fork tender. Peel, cut them in half, and slice into half moons. Add the beets to the vinegrette and stir. Crumble the blue cheese and add 2/3 to the beets and store. Sprinkle the remaining blue cheese over the top of the salad. Keywords: Salad, Vegetarian, Vegetables ( RG734 )

To read all the parts of this series please click: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII You might suspect that the failure of Eagle Hunter's eagle to hunt -- on account of alleged obesity no less (I ask you, did Eagle Hunter's eagle look at all overweight?) -- was the last straw. But it was merely the penultimate straw. The last straw came shortly thereafter. Eagle Hunter, now designated in my internal dialog as Eagle Hunter with Obese Eagle, wanted to spend some more time communing with his eagle in the field prior to returning the eagle to the other field where it is kept chained to a rock. So he suggested we go on without him to the next stop on our Mongolian Kazakh dude ranch itinerary: the felt-making operation. Though I had never had the slightest interest in felt or its production, I had been on the receiving end of several days of propaganda regarding how fascinating the felt-making process really is. And, I was told, it is all the more fascinating when done entirely by hand in a ger. So I was actually getting pretty excited about the prospect of seeing the start-to-finish process of making wool felt. "How do they make felt after all?" I asked myself. But I was not to learn the answer at that time. Because after we walked for about half an hour through five-foot-high grasses and thorn bushes (advertised as "5 minute walk to ger next door") in order to get to the felt-making ger, and after milling about interminably until Aiyka was able to ascertain the hospitality readiness status of the inhabitants of said ger, I was informed, "Oh, they already made the felt for today. So sorry." Yes, the women of the ger had already made all of their wool felt that day despite the fact that they had been the ones to extend the invitation to come over and observe the felt-making process in the first place. Apparently the ordeal with Eagle Hunter with Obese Eagle and his too-fat-to-fly eagle had taken too long and we had missed our chance. That was the last straw. Although, the way I've portrayed it here, it sounds as though the straw snapped suddenly. In reality, it was a sluggish realization that so many things had gone wrong, and that this was yet another thing gone wrong, and that, dammit, I'm not going to take it anymore. So, yes, even though I know you might think less of me for it, I admit it: I had a bit of a nervous breakdown over the issue of felt. The breakdown went something like this: I charged off through the thorn bushes in the direction of Eagle Hunter with Obese Eagle's ger (despite my best efforts and numerous runs through the washer and dryer, I've still been unable to extract all of the thorns and pieces of grass from my shoes -- almost a month later I'm still finding them around my apartment). I grumbled under my breath and as I stomped through the herd of enormous yaks resting in the dirt, who hastily rose up in fear and gave me a wide berth. I started to recount the indignities: First I fly out to this god-forsaken part of the country where it's hot as Hades and dry as an oven, all based on the promise of seeing an Eagle Hunter hunt with his eagle. I wait patiently every day to meet said Eagle Hunter. Then I wait patiently to see the Eagle Hunter with his eagle. No, no eagle on the horseback riding trip. No, no eagle today. Then, on my last day, when I finally do see the eagle with the Eagle Hunter, I'm told there will be no hunting because it's summer (so, why exactly am I here?). But, there will be training (woo hoo). And we will be spending a great deal of time with Eagle Hunter and his eagle. And then the eagle won't fly. Because it's fat??? And then the indignity of the felt-making? Is anyone paying any attention here at all? Still muttering to myself under my breath like a deranged madwoman, I bounded across the river on Eagle Hunter with Obese Eagle's previously laid stones, fuelled by nothing more than frustration. I returned to the ger, collected my soap and tiny towel, and charged over to the river to wash my filthy hair. I don't know why; it just seemed like the thing to do. To say it was symbolic of the desire to cleanse myself of recent events would probably be reading too much into it. Off came my grassy, thorny shoes. Now what? I'm standing barefooted on the edge of a rocky river. There are children, goats, sheep and yaks with Texas-sized horns milling about (well, there weren't any yaks right there -- but they could wander over at any time) and my intention is to get at least some part of myself clean. It doesn't have to be all of me, mind you -- perhaps just the dirtiest patches of skin and my unruly hair would be good. Precariously perched on two uneven rocks, I bent over the furious river so that some of my hair fell into the water. I scooped the water onto my head and sucked in my breath -- cold, damn cold, probably around 45 degrees F -- and made sure that no strands escaped. After one too many dunks, the searing pain in my head became so intense that I teetered over on those stones. I put my hands out in front of me to catch myself before I toppled into the river. By this time a small group of curious children had gathered around to see what the hell I was doing. Of course it didn't make any sense, the civilized people in their homes, er, gers, fetched water from the river and heated it up like everyone else in the world does, but on the previous night when the women of the ger -- including my translator/guide -- were taking part in this ritual, no offer came forth for me to do the same and I didn't want to ask, lest I waste some of their precious fuel. Apparently, my translator/guide had no such concern. I paused and waited for the pain in my head to subside (think ice-cream brain-freeze times a hundred) before I could wet my hair further. I lathered my hair with shampoo, took my water bottle, filled it with river water, walked 100 yards away from the river and rinsed. I repeated this process until my hair was free of shampoo. It occurred to me that the river could easily be unsanitary, full of filth, excrement, or worse (vicious animals?). But I harbored the hope that I was being cynical (what else is new) and bitter and that it was actually a pristine river in the wilderness. I continued with my hair washing charade, knowing full well that before my hair could dry it would already be dirty again with the blowing dust. When you're firing on all cylinders from dawn 'til dusk for days on end, you don't have much time for reflection. But at this point, I did stop to ruminate on the subject of eagle hunting. Could this possibly be an effective means of hunting? Was there ever a time in history when a person could depend on an eagle to provide enough food to live on? Is it even possible for an eagle living mostly in captivity to capture more food than it needs to be fed? If eagles don't even hunt for a large part of the year, are they really good for anything more than sport, the lining for your hat, and the occasional freshly killed snack? Later, back at my computer, I did some searching online. There aren't a lot of journalists who have gone to western Mongolia to observe the Mongolian Kazakh eagle hunters. But there are a few. I found two articles. The first was by Sheryl Shapiro (no relation to me). Surely, I could vicariously experience an eagle hunt through Sheryl Shapiro's account: Then I found an article by one Alan Gates (no relation to Bill), a bona fide international falconry expert. What happened on Gates's hunt? In other words, three of us travel writers schlepped all the way to western Mongolia and none of us saw an eagle catch a single thing. No doubt, there are more efficient ways to get fur for your cap, catch the fox in sox or little bunny foo foo, and entertain yourself. Jan interrupted my reverie when she called and waved for me to come to lunch. Like a well trained dog past the point of challenging any order, I obediently trotted over, even though I knew what was on the menu -- and I knew I wanted no part of it. But I was rewarded. I got to sample the fresh white yogurt-milk cheese that we had made just a few hours ago. It was ready to eat and I tentatively tried a nibble. It was delicious. "Damde, damde!" I exclaimed. The cheese was sort of like ricotta salata. I devoured a small hunk and picked at the mutton component of the lunch (thank heavens for the communal plate). We were scheduled (all of a sudden, now that we had seen Eagle Hunter with Obese Eagle's eagle, our schedule resurfaced) to begin our journey back to Olgii after lunch, but first we were scheduled to go to one of the neighboring gers where, it was announced with great fanfare, I was to observe weaving. Weaving, apparently, is not the same as felt-making. Chica, conspicuously absent from Eagle Hunter with Obese Eagle's ger all morning, smiled up at me when we walked into the "ger next door." In the midst of a bunch of energized children, there sat Chica and two of the neighbor's older daughters on the floor, trading off weaving on the ancient loom with their home-spun and home-died yarn. As I clicked away on the camera the children vied to have their pictures taken. I took pictures of the twins, but one twin didn't smile when I clicked so I took another. Then the women of the ger wanted a picture of all of the children together. I arranged and rearranged them so they could all fit into the frame. Someone ducked down as I clicked, so I took the picture again. Then the women wanted to get in on the pictures too, so they joined the group. And Chica and her friends wanted to be photographed at the loom . . . it went on like this for awhile. To signal the end of the impromptu photo shoot, I broke my camera down and put the components away with great ceremony and exaggerated body movements. Our driver was at the ready and the jeep was packed. We were heading for Olgii, and ultimately for away from here. We waved farewell and, tucked into the jeep, we once again forged the river. This time as the front tires of our jeep hit dry ground everyone let out whoops of triumph. "Piece of cake!" I called out. But no one understood what the expression meant so I had to explain it, and that didn't work very well. We stopped again at Bayan Nuur By Lake Summer Village. Why, I'm still not exactly sure. Aiyka hopped out to talk to someone. A friend perhaps. We continued on our way and I asked if we would stop by the ger where they had offered to roast the whole sheep in my honor. Yes, that was on the schedule (again with the schedule). I nodded my assent. After bumping along the Mongolian superhighway, we pulled up in front of the ger. But wait, where was the man to whom I had given the vodka -- the one that had offered to roast a whole sheep in my honor? He was not in evidence. Not that I actually wanted a sheep to be killed on my behalf, and not that I wanted to eat anymore sheep ever in my life, but I was looking forward to my reunion with my old friends. But the women of this ger saved the day when they asked, "Would you like to see us make the wool felt?" It seems that not only had they gone through their entire felt making production for the day but in anticipation that we might return to visit them one day that week, they had set aside enough raw materials to give us a demonstration. From beginning to end I observed the process of making wool felt -- a product the family would use not only for patching the felt on their ger or constructing a new one, but also for bedding ("Kazakh mattresses"), carpets, and decoration. While the women were spreading the wool onto a straw mat the size of a carpet, watering it down, adding more wool, and rolling up the mat to flatten the wool, the man of the ger -- or so I thought -- made his appearance. He beamed as he welcomed us back. He pumped my hand up and down, sandwiching my hands in both of his. There was no evidence of a roasting sheep and I silently prayed to the spirit of Chinggis Khaan (again, this is the currently preferred spelling, as evidenced by the matching Chinggis Khaan wallet and key-case J purchased for Fat Guy) to spare me. On the way, I had been told that if they did cook the sheep in my honor, as they had suggested, I would be given, as the special guest, the sheep's head -- all for me! Please spirit of the great Khaan, please! I beg of you to show mercy on your unsuspecting subject -- please insure that they forgot about my sheep. There's been so much mutton, so much mutton fat and fur. I have shared in all of these meals, I have eaten fur and hair, I have eaten dirt, and grass. Please draw the line at the sheep's head; please show mercy for this innocent, unsuspecting recovering vegetarian! People began collecting in the ger and soon there was a crowd including women and children of all ages as well as a handful of older men. Then, out came the vodka. The man apparently in charge poured a healthy round of vodka and toasted my return. The translator/guide translated. We drank. I refilled the glasses (by now, I knew what to do) and it was my turn to reciprocate the toast. I thanked them for their warm hospitality and friendship. I wished them safe travels during the winter and good fortune and I thanked them for opening their home and their family to me with such kindness. Down the hatch. And, I told them, in my religion we have a toast and it means "to life" (the translator hurried to keep up and translate) "L'Chaim" and I held my glass up and waited for the lag in translation. "L'Chaim!" they all cheered -- and the vodka disappeared down our gullets. I started to feel woozy and hot -- two medium-sized glasses of vodka is a lot for me. But it was not time to go yet. Out came another bottle of vodka. And this is when I learned that the man who I thought was "the man of the ger" was actually a neighbor and while we had just enjoyed the neighbor's vodka, now the actual man of the ger (whom I had not met on my previous visit) wanted to bust out his own bottle of vodka to toast me. So, we did the whole thing again. He said pretty much the same things as the other guy -- the translator translated his toast, he lifted his glass, we all followed suit and "L'Chaim!" they all cheered. Down the hatch. I then poured what I hoped would be the final round. I made sure the bottle was empty by the time I finished refilling everyone's glass. Again everyone looked at me waiting for my toast. I had pretty much used up all of my material on the first one (not knowing that I'd have to make a second one) and struggled to say something equally nice yet not redundant. The translator/guide translated, everyone smiled, we raised our glasses and "L'Chaim!" glasses returned to the table empty. And so, having deposited this bit of Jewish culture in western Mongolia -- will they still be saying "L'Chaim" a hundred years from now? -- and having narrowly escaped the sheep-roast, we stumbled back to the jeep and attempted to depart. But first there were many photos, warm farewells, and perhaps even an attempted grope by one of the "fathers of the ger." Eventually, though, we were allowed to pile back into the trusty jeep for the drive towards Olgii. Not that there would have been any other cars to hit, but for the young people (and mothers) in the audience I'd like to add that our driver did not consume anywhere near the amount of alcohol the rest of us had. This, I had been sure to observe. Being so close to liberation, I wanted to get out alive. That turned out to be easier said than done, however. But we'll need a Part VII for that. Stay tuned for the final chapter. To read all the parts of this series please click: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII To read all the parts of this series please click: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII

Linguine with tomato, chili, olive and basil sauce Serves 4 as Appetizeror 2 as Main Dish. Sometimes, the desire to crash on the sofa with a glass or three of wine is much stronger than the desire to spend hours in the kitchen generating washing up for my long suffering wife. I'm therefore always on the look out for recipes that take less than an hour to prepare, but still deliver in the taste department. Here's a dish that I recently knocked up out of store cupboard ingredients and that I enjoyed eating enough to want to record and share with others. I make no great claims to authenticity (well, I've used ketchup, so how could I?) or particularly original thought, but it is a genuinely quick and easy plate of food to prepare and worth having in your repetoire for those occassions when the inner-chef is demanding an early night. Ingredients 1 T olive oil 1 medium onion, finely diced 1 fat clove of garlic, finely diced 1 red chili, halved, deseeded and sliced 400 g canned tomatoes or passata 1 T tomato ketchup 8 black olives, pitted and chopped 8 leaves basil, torn or sliced sea salt and black pepper to taste 320 g linguine Heat the oil in a pan and sweat the onion until soft, add the garlic and chili and fry gently for a moment. Pass the tomatoes through a mouli legume (omit this stage if using passata) and add to the vegetables. Cook for 15-20 minutes to allow the sauce to thicken, then add the ketchup (you may not need a tablespoon, you want just enough to add sweetness to balance the acidity of the tomatoes.) Stir in the olives and the basil at the last moment. Season with salt and pepper. Cook the linguine as per packet instructions, drain, toss with the sauce and serve immeadiately with grated parmesan, a splash of extra virgin olive oil and some more torn basil leaves if you wish. Keywords: Main Dish, Italian, Easy, Vegetarian, Pasta ( RG634 )

Hi folks, Before I delve into the details of this little-known cuisine, I'd like to introduce myself. I feel really lucky to have come across this wonderful forum where everyone is passionate about the same thing as me - Indian food. My name is Suman Varadaraj and I live in Dublin, Ireland. I used to be the Indian Food Guide at About.com - the best part of my job was helping all those who wrote in with their queries to discover the wonderful world of Indian food. I've lived in Ghaziabad in U.P. (Have you heard of it Suvir?), Bombay, Mangalore, Bangalore and Dubai. It might come as a big surprise , but I am, of course Konkani. We're a small community and yet it's amazing to see the variations in the cooking styles, depending on where we come from. - My parents are from Mangalore, which is a coastal town down south in the state of Karnataka, famous for its wonderful seafood. We love our fish and our food is 'bold' in the sense that it makes liberal use of garlic. - My husband comes from Bangalore and their food is more 'saathvik' - it leans towards the famous Udupi-style of cooking. They use very little garlic, if any and their food is purely vegetarian. They also tend to add a little jaggery to their side dishes. - My maternal grandma's family was amongst the many Konkani families in Northern Kerala, they have some distinctive dishes not known to other Konkanis. In general though Konkani food can be described as thus: Ghashis: Coconut, chillies and tamarind ground with or without any additional ingredient and made into a sauce for fish, beans or even chicken. The baghaar or tadka also differs. Sukke: Dry vegetable dish, again using coconut, chillies and tamarind with ingredients such as roasted or raw coriander, urad dal etc. Upkari: A stir-fry of vegetables - in Mangalore they generally prefer it with a baghaar of mustard and red chillies , in Bangalore it's usually mustard, green chillies, curry leaves and grated coconut Thalasani: Again, a stir -fry of vegetables, but with garlic and chillies. Thoy/Kholombo: The former being Konkani-style toor dal, the latter being our version of the sambhar. I could go on and on, but at the outset I hadn't even intended to write so much. I'd love to know if any of you have ever come across Konkani food or have tried to make it at home. Thanks for making me feel welcome on this forum. Suman

Pan-roasted corn Corn (Fresh of the raw cob is nice, but I usually use frozen organic supersweet corn from Wholefoods) Spanish sweet smoked paprika Cumin (less than the paprika) Dried Ground Chipotle (less than the cumin) Salt Cook it all over a hardwood charcoal fire in some butter, olive oil, or a combination. It's best when some of the corn starts to carmelize a bit. That's it. Simple, but good. Keywords: Side, Vegetarian, Easy, Vegetables ( RG615 )

Frugal Fresser's Fried Rice Here's a yummy recipe for fried rice--you can add chicken, beef or even tofu for the vegetarians out there. You'll need the following: Four carrots, diced four celery stalks, diced one large onion, minced four chicken legs & thighs four eggs Cayenne pepper sauce 1 1/2 cups of rice soy sauce to taste First, preheat your broiler for about five minutes. This way, the chicken will sear & sizzle when you place it on the broiler. Remove any excess fat from the chicken and reserve this fat to stir-fry the veggies. Sprinkle garlic & onion powder liberally under the skin on the chicken thighs and place them on the broiler. Listen to the pretty sizzling noises. While the chicken is broiling, dice the carrots and celery. Don't dice them so finely as to create a brunoise; the veggies should add color and some texture, but they shouldn't make the diner feel like he or she is crunching a celery stalk. Then, toss the carrots & celery into a preheated skillet or wok with the chicken fat. Stir-fry them for about five to ten minutes, then add the minced onion. The onions won't take as long to cook. If you like, you can baste the chicken thighs in cayenne pepper sauce as they broil. This will make for a nice crispy skin. Turn the chicken every few minutes so it doesn't burn. While the chicken is broiling, cook up 1 1/2 cups of white rice. When the chicken is done, de-bone it and dice it coarsely. You can remove the skin first for a nosh if you like. Now beat the four eggs in a bowl. Add pepper if you like. Just when the rice is done, let it cool for about a minute and then pour the egg mixture on top of the rice. This will coat the individual grains and add a nice color. Now find a humongous pot and add the egg/rice mixture, the diced chicken and the sauteed vegetables. Sprinkle some soy sauce over the top and toss over medium heat until the colors of the veggies are well-distributed. Serve to Jews craving good Chinese food. Keywords: Main Dish, Side, Kosher, Intermediate, Beef, Chicken, Rice, Lunch, Chinese ( RG614 )

Salad of semi-dried tomatoes, three flavours, tomato syrup Serves 6 as Appetizer. 14 ripe tomatoes mozzarela 3 garlic cloves 2 shallots olive oil 6 small basil leaves basil 25 cl balsamic vinegar Semi-dried tomato petals - Peel the tomates (dive them few seconds in boiling water and refresh them immediately). Cut them in 4 quarters. Separate the seeds and the inside from the meaty outside. You should have four 'petal' of tomato per tomato. Keep the waster, seeds and inside meat in a ball. - Place the 56 petals (you'll only need 54) on an oiled baking tray. Dry gently for 2 to 3 hours around 100°C. - With one garlic clove, prepare 6 garlic chips that you can cook gently in oil in the oven at the same time as the tomatoes. The chips should be crispy. Tomato sirup - Put the left over of the tomatoes (water, seeds, etc.) in a blender. Strain. Add a bit of sugar. Reduce down the liquid in a pot over low heat until slightly sirupy. Balsamic glaze - Reduce down the balsamic vinegar over low heat (it should not boil) until sirupy. Assembling 1/2 When the tomatoes have dried and cooled down. - Finely chop the rest of the garlic. - Prepare 6 small shallots rings. Chop the rest of the shallots. - Julienne de basil a thin as you can. - Cut the mozzarella in in small 18 rectagles (about 3 mm thick) and slightly smaller than a tomato petal. - Line up six tomato petals. Cover with julienne of basil. Cover with another tomato petal. Keep in air tight box in a fridge. Do the same with chopped garlic and chopped shallots. Allow to cool down for at least an hour. - Keep the other petals (you should have 20) in the fridge. Assembling 2/2 Before serving. - Line up 18 petal. Top with a rectangle of mozarella each. Top with the other flavoured petals. - Paint the plates with tomato sirup, balsamic vinegar glaze and olive oil. - Dispose one flavoured tomato petal pile of each flavour on each plate. So each plate has one with basil, one with shallots and one with garlic. Fleur de sel.Decorate each pile with a smal basil leave, a shallot ring and garlic chip accordingly. Keywords: Appetizer, Vegetarian, Easy ( RG610 )

Hi Suvir, Just wondering how long I'll have to wait ... Please, please, PLEASE make sure you include all the secrets that most other cookbooks neglect to tell you. I'm particularly waiting for Panditji's Paneer Koftas. And how about Bukhara's famous Dal Makhani? Will there be a UK edition (I find it so much more convenient to weigh rather than go by volumes) ? One of my favourite books on Indian cooking is 'The Art of Indian Vegetarian Cooking' by Yamuna Devi, because she, unlike most authors, explains in great detail the techniques, the temperatures etc. It's the next best thing to having a personal cooking coach. To think I only paid £3 for such a magnificent book! I'd have happily paid a lot more than that. Best wishes with your book, Suman

An article in Foodservice Industry News describes how a patron at a Vegetarian restaurant was asked to leave after trying to feed her 11 month old with a jar of baby food that contained chicken.

Hi everybody! Some time ago, during a trip in India I purchased some dry mango powder. I was told that it was intended for vegetable dishes, so I generally add it to my vegetarian curries, but was wondering whether it's correct or not as I don't know any recipe where it's mentioned. Since I do love the flavour, I would like to know how it can be used - in which type of dishes, before or after cooking and so on. I also would like to know how long can it last, kept into a glass jar. TIA! Pongi

Am I the only one who's curious that true vegetarian specialties in South-east Asian food are much rarer compared to their meaty companions? I'm starting a South-east Asian restaurant here in Bangalore, India. To cater for the larger percentage of vegetarians in this country, we need more veggie dishes than you might find in USA, for instance. While creating my menu, I wanted to showcase dishes that weren't just "tofu-ised" versions of meat-based dishes. That is, I wanted to avoid things like "Som Tam without fish sauce or dried shrimp" or "Sayur Lodeh without belachan" or "Mussaman curry with fried tofu". I was surprised by how comparitively difficult it was to find true-blue veggie dishes in the region (compared to say, Indian cuisine) You folks got any suggestions? What are your favourite veggie dishes from Indonesia, Malaysia/Singapore, or Thailand? (That means pure vegetarian.)