with Whipped Macadamia Cream
Fullness. Satiety. No matter the name, it’s one slippery rascal. A sneaky snake. Sometimes I am ravenous and it stands me up until I’ve polished off a whole jar of cashini butter. Other times… Well, I’m still ravenous (let’s be honest)… and it decides to grace me with its presence after seven measly bites. Fullness makes a foodie Goldilocks out of me, always leaving my tummy with too much or my greedy taste buds with too little. It’s the ultimate mean girl of brain signals, and as much as I’d rather not play Lindsay Lohan to its Rachel McAdams, there’s a certain holiday coming up that makes deflecting such manipulation impossible.
Thanksgiving. In case you were unaware, it’s all about Fullness. Getting full, being full, staying full. Stuffing oneself with – yes – stuffing. As a bona fide foodie, I know a thing or two when it comes to these matters.
Two years ago, my stuffing addiction got real serious, real quick. With Thanksgiving feast generously packed up to my esophagus, we paused only briefly before moving on to coffee, and later, dessert. While my mother filled hefty mugs with toasty, warming, caffeinated elixirs, I casually pilfered an unsuspecting cup and stole away to the stove top, where I filled said cup with – yes – more stuffing. Then, I nonchalantly wandered back into the dining room, cradling my mug as if I were cautious of spilling the nonexistent hot liquid and sat down. While everyone else sipped, I sipped too. I put the mug to my lips and tipped it just enough so that some stuffing would slide close enough to my mouth for me to suction it in. I was a giant squid. No chewing took place. That would have been a dead giveaway. Too risky.
This year, I won’t be having any stuffing.
I won’t be having any crispyscrumpdidliumptious Poppy’s potatoes either.
Or sweet potato casserole.
Or my mother’s pie crust.
In short, my Thanksgiving will be a deleted scene from Pan’s Labyrinth. Good. I will sit at the table, mountains of stuffing to my right, infinite pumpkin pies to my left, and the sun-starved mayor of Creepytown across from me, eyeballs ready to be plugged in at the slightest lift of my finger.
This is not by choice.
You guessed it: I am still slaying yeast like an anti-candida warrior. After eight months, you’d think the name “Desi” had become synonymous with “Doom” throughout the little yeast villages of My Gut. You’d think I would have resumed cultivating my intimate (cannibalistic) relationships with potatoes and rice and lentils and oatmeal and maple syrup and so many other dear friends who have long since moved out of my pantry. And stomach. That’s what you’d think.
But it’s never about what we think, is it? The Universe plays games with us the very same way that Fullness does. I don’t mind. In fact, I accept the fact that I won’t be so full this Thanksgiving that bending at the hips is out of the question for at least 24 hours. I’m okay with that. I won’t be having stuffing, Poppy’s potatoes, sweet potato casserole, or apple pie. I won’t be conning my family into believing I’m sipping a coffee-brimmed tea cup that is truthfully food-brimmed. My stomach won’t be filled to its full capacity.
But I will be full.
I can’t tell you what with. I don’t actually know. It’s this feeling both Scott and I get when we’re so happy that we could cry. And when one of us does begin to cry, the other gingerly asks to be sure the sudden transformation isn’t sadness, “Honey, are you full right now?” The question is immediately answered with a smile through the tears, “Yes. I feel so full.”
I now blush for not realizing this sooner… But could it be thanks-giving that we feel?
Well, whatever it may be, this I purposely and earnestly declare, blushing not included:
I have so very much to feel “full” for.
Roughly Raw Pumpkin Pie
Um, I will be having pie, too.
Enter Raw Pumpkin Pie. Well, roughly raw. Why? Because I like my pumpkin so baked, you’d suspect Libby has a stoner identity. I assure you, though: the rest is as raw as a T-Pain lyric.
1 cup pecans
1/4 cup raw coconut flour
3 Tbsp cashew butter (I use Artisana’s)
1/4 tsp himalayan pink salt
3/4 cup + 1 Tbsp Irish moss paste (These lovely ladies explain how to make it!)
2/3 cup cashews
1/4 cup pecans
1 1/2 cups puréed, cooked pumpkin (Canned or make your own! I made my own with Elana’s help. After baking it, I cooked it on the stovetop over low/med heat and reduced the liquid content by about half)
3 Tbsp xylitol (Or palm sugar, sucanat, more stevia to keep anti-candida, etc.)
1 Tbsp vanilla extract
1 Tbsp pumpkin pie spice (or 1 1/2 tsp cinnamon, 3/4 tsp ginger, 3/8 tsp nutmeg, 3/8 tsp cloves)
1/2 tsp himalayan pink salt
1/8 tsp liquid stevia (I can vouch for this brand only)
1) For the crust first, process the pecans in your food processor until they’re a fine flour. In a mixing bowl, combine pecan flour, coconut flour, cashew butter, and salt.
2) Press crust dough onto the bottom of a 7″ or 8″ springform pan and place in the freezer.
3) For the filling, process the cashews and pecans in your food processor until they’re smooth. Add remaining ingredients and blend well, stopping occasionally to scrape down the sides.
4) Once the filling is smooth, remove crust from freezer. Pour the filling on top of the crust, smooth over the top, decorate as you wish (with pecans or whatever your heart desires!), and return entire pie to the refrigerator.
5) Allow pie to set for at least 6 hours. The longer, the better.
Whipped Macadamia Cream:
adapted from pure2raw
1 1/2 cups raw macadamia nuts, soaked 6-8 hrs
3/4 cups water (a few table spoons more if you’d prefer more of a “cool whip” consistency)
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/4 tsp almond extract
1/2 tsp himalayan pink salt
3 Tbsp Irish Moss paste/cashew butter (Optional; Helps with fluffiness)
1) Blend macadamia nuts in food processor until very smooth.
2) Add remaining ingredients and blend until fluffy.
3) Place in refrigerator to set for a few hours. Use as needed and store in refrigerator until all gone!