Chocolate Caramel Corn

Allergy-Friendly Chocolate Caramel Corn Recipe

Step 1: Invite mother and father to visit for Christmas, involving plane tickets and a long drive. Mother will happen to bring a caramel corn recipe along with her.

Step 2: Ask husband to pop 6-8 quarts of Chloe-safe popcorn. Husband must do it because the power cord to Stir Crazy is broken and he is the only one who can pop popcorn without getting electrocuted.

Notes: a) Chloe safe, for us, means popcorn not processed on shared equipment. Orville Redenbacher fits the bill. b) If you are using a Stir Crazy popper you will need to make a full bowl twice.

Step 3: Melt 2 sticks of whey-free margarine (Fleischman's unsalted), 2 cups of brown sugar, and 1/2 cup of corn syrup in a pan over low heat. When it comes to a boil, stir constantly for a few minutes.

Step 4: Pour popcorn into a gigantic bowl (you may need to do this twice) and coat with melted sugary stuff. Stir to coat each piece of popcorn with delectable gooey sweetness.

Step 5: Put onto (large) cookie sheets and place in a 225 oven for 45 minutes. The temperature and timing of this step does not have to be precise, but it will save you from your two-year-old and four-year-old asking until you feel like tearing your hair out, "please may I have another one?" before supper.

Step 6: Remove leftover Chloe-safe chocolate frosting from freezer. If you do not have leftover frosting, make some according to this recipe: 1/4 cup (1/2 stick) whey-free margarine, 1/4 cup cocoa powder, up to 2 cups powdered sugar, 3 tbsp rice milk, and 1 tsp vanilla extract. This recipe makes enough for leftovers for next time.

Step 7: Separate caramel corn onto four cookie sheets or put half of it back into the big bowl. You'll need to spread it out more thinly. Heat the frosting to pourable consistency and then...

Step 8: Drizzle frosting with a spoon in Pollock-like gestures over the caramel corn.

Step 9: Invite 3 boys from other countries over, intersperse them with small children around the kitchen island, and observe the chocolate caramel corn disappear.

Step 10: Repeat steps 1-8, omitting step 9 because you won't have gotten any for yourself the first time around.

I'm not going to change the world

In this order, three things happened:

First, I got the online email edition of Food Allergy Magazine, which had an article about a city councilman in St. Paul with a three year old daughter severely allergic to peanuts. The councilman was trying to pass an ordinance to require all restaurants to post ingredients lists, which, rightfully so, the restaurant industry had a problem with.

Second, a relative complimented me on this blog. I sincerely appreciate compliments on my little corner of cyberspace which I use to process my journey as Chloe's mom and protector. Thank you so much!

Third, I recently became a facebook fan of a blog I already read and enjoy, Karina's Kitchen, Recipes from a Gluten-Free Goddess. She discovered a gluten intolerance as an adult and began developing recipes for herself. This activity led to publication of two cookbooks and the development of not just gluten-free recipes, but allergen-free ones as well. Her latest post featuring gluten-free vegan pumpkin spice cake caught my eye and the photograph was worth a thousand bites.

I started thinking about Karina, and how she turned a personal situation into a meaningful line of work which has the potential to benefit many lives. Her own medical condition prompted a vocation that has changed her life.

I have been thinking about the councilman in St. Paul, who turned a small slice of power into a power trip. (I'll post my letter to him, cc'd to the newspaper reporter writing the story about him along with various individuals from the food allergy community and the business and hospitality industry of St. Paul, as an addendum to this post.)

While I really really admire people who make a personal difficulty, sometimes even a tragedy, into a vocation like Karina, that's not really me. I don't necessarily admire the councilman's tactics, but I do agree with him that food allergy awareness is really critical to our growing numbers and I speak my piece whenever I feel the need.

It feels like this post is turning into a long rant about ME, but hear me out. I don't necessarily crusade; I am not a crusader type. But when it comes to knowing how to do something well, I am all over that. And I will not forget what Chloe's allergist said on our first visit: "keep doing what you're doing, and do it well."

I'm proud that the pages of this blog reflect that I have grown over the last year to become good at keeping Chloe safe from the allergens that will cause a life-threatening reaction. I have become good at speaking candidly and patiently with her caregivers, family, and friends about her food allergies and the risks and what to do in case of a reaction.

I know I'm good at it because when I made salsa and bean dip for a little fiesta with the kids tonight, I didn't even think consciously about making it Chloe-safe, I just did because I am so used to cooking without certain ingredients. (Ok, I did look at the oriental rice snacks, see that they were processed on shared equipment with nuts and wheat and did not set them out.)

I guess I just don't feel the need for a crusade. Protecting my daughter is enough, and the rewards from that are immeasurable. I have lots to do that I like to do, so I keep a balance. As much as I want her to have a gluten-free vegan chocolate cake for her birthday and have everyone taste it and savor it, I also want to knit her sweaters and teach music and go on trips.

I just really am not that interested in getting on the news about turning my daughter's food allergies into a thriving cookbook business or launching the newest food allergy awareness organization or using authority to promote a personal view.

I just want to keep my daughter safe and healthy and teach her how to handle herself in the world.

_________


Dear Mr. Carter,
I read about your attempts to mandate that restaurants list their ingredients for those with food allergies in the online edition of Food Allergy Magazine (September issue, a link from the Twin Cities Pioneer Press). My daughter has severe allergies to milk, eggs, wheat, and peanut, and many of us who have severely allergic children can relate to your situation.

However, I think it behooves those of us in the minority—those of us with food allergies or food-allergic children—to be reasonable. A recent blog post by a blogger that I enjoy (www.crazyauntpurl.com) about her office potluck in which the dishes had to contain peanuts prompted a firestorm of criticism from the food allergy community. I personally am ashamed by that kind of behavior, because it takes the wishes of a small minority and attempts to shove them down the throats of a majority—yes, even though I am an active member of that minority. I believe your actions to try to get every restaurant in your city to comply with your personal family situation (especially since you are now in a position of some power) is an example of unreasonableness.

I certainly understand the desire to protect one’s child and to live, move, and participate in a normal world comfortably, and frustration at being unable to do so. But the reality, is, those of us with severely allergic children must make some accommodations for the world that exists. Some restaurants will be accommodating, and some, naturally, will not, but that is their choice as a business establishment about which clients they cater to. I believe David Siegel has the right approach when he talks about awareness and training in his recent article in Finance & Commerce.

Mr. Carter, I will tell you my personal strategy when dining out with my family:

Where I live, our dining out choices are somewhat limited, but those restaurants we do enjoy going to my husband and I assess thoroughly. We read the menus, we talk to the chefs, and we ask the servers to talk to the chefs for us. Often we visit a restaurant on our own, looking critically at the choices and available options for our daughter before we take her there, and we certainly do assess the restaurant’s willingness to share information about their food. When we find a restaurant that can accommodate us, we do not hesitate first, to tell our friends and family that this particular establishment has gone out of their way to ensure our daughter’s safety; and second, to make sure we give our business to that restaurant again.

I think this sort of system is a much more positive one than mandating difficult and time-consuming regulations. This system gives restaurants an incentive to speak candidly about their food when requested and to welcome food-allergic families, who will then pass the information about their warm reception along to their fellow food-allergy sufferers, and, as our family does, patronize the restaurant again. Some local food allergy web sites may even want to post reviews of restaurants who have been helpful. Yes, doing this legwork is time-consuming, but that is our job as parents.

I have had many positive experiences from restaurants by calling ahead and asking about their ability to cater to my daughter’s particular needs—one restaurant was even willing to warm up rice noodles that we brought from home and put their marinara sauce on top.

I truly believe that if we are reasonable and give people—or eating establishments—a chance, they will rise to the occasion, making dining out a positive experience for everyone. I certainly have found this to be true where I live, and also in major cities my family has traveled to.

The reality is that for those of us with food-allergic children, we have to make choices to protect our children. Our children will then grow up learning how to successfully negotiate the realities of their environment, and our friends, family, and in your case, your constituents, will see the good example we model.
Sincerely,

Kate

Happy 2nd Birthday, Chloe!

We've come a long way since Chloe's first birthday when we didn't know the extent of her food allergies.

As a tribute to Chloe, her teachers, her babysitters, her dad, her siblings, and all of you who supported me during the year of the Cooking Paradigm Shift, here are some things I learned about food, food allergies, and celebrating the positive.

Food is life-sustaining, nurturing, and comforting, except when it isn't. For Chloe, some of the very things that we take for granted are her poison. Instead of lamenting the losses of MY favorite foods, I had to teach Chloe to love new foods that were safe for her. I had to create a new cuisine for her and for all of us in her family to share with her.

After her allergy testing in November last year, we knew, in the words of her physician, we had to keep doing what we were doing and do it well. I felt a great deal of relief just to know for sure what to avoid, and I started paying attention to posts, blogs, emails, recipes, recommendations from friends, and the opportunities around me.

We found that one of Chloe's favorite foods was tamales. Pork, masa (corn), and red chile sauce are the only ingredients, and frequently the mothers of my students make and sell them at my school. I learned which cooks made the best-tasting tamales that Chloe liked, and the cooks learned to approach me when they were making tamales because they know I'm always good for one or two dozen. I learned to individually wrap and freeze them, like Hot Pockets, as Chloe's personal convenience food.

I learned to change from cooking with butter to cooking solely with olive oil as a base for sauteeing. I learned to layer fresh cuts of meat with potatoes and vegetables in the crock pot for a meal everyone in our family would like. I learned to notice that many of the recipes published in popular women's magazines were easily modified to be Chloe-safe and started editing them and putting them in a notebook.

I learned to read ingredients lists on packaged food. I learned to read them upside down and backwards and with whiny, impatient children in the background. I learned to look on every packaged food item for the allergy warning, and I learned that sometimes it was the store brand that had an ingredient we needed to avoid, and sometimes it was the generic brand, and I learned to read the ingredients again when I got home from the store and throw things away if my gut told me it was unsafe. I learned to read ingredients lists and allergy warnings on things I didn't think I needed to, like jelly beans and rice krispies, and ketchup. I learned that soy sauce has wheat in it and Worcestershire sauce has anchovies in it.

I learned that food processed on shared equipment with allergens is not ok for Chloe, but that food processed in shared facilities is.

I learned to consciously think about filling Chloe's cup with rice drink. I learned to consciously say it for her, to distinguish those words from "milk," and she eventually learned to say "rice drink" instead of "milk" too.

I learned how to administer an epi-pen. I learned to keep epi-pens in my purse, at school, and in the kitchen. I learned to keep Benadryl in her room and in my purse and at school and in the kitchen.

I learned how to cry and to let go and then go on.

I learned how to keep one cutting board for bread and cheese and one cutting board "Chloe-safe." I keep Sharpies in the kitchen for labeling food "Chloe-safe." I wipe bread crumbs off the counter and I never let her "wash dishes" if the dishes have had unsafe food on them.

I learned to keep separate utensils and plates for her food when she had just turned one. I learned how to teach Andrew what foods she can have and what she can't. I learned how to enjoy the sight of Chloe eating cereal just like her brother, and how nice it was that each child could have their own cereal box to look at while they ate and therefore not fight. I learned to distinguish by sight one of Chloe's gluten, egg, dairy and nut-free "Whole-O's" from one of Andrew's "Honey Nut O's."

I learned how to say, "ella allergica a leche, trigo, huevos, y cacahuates."

I learned how to communicate with teachers and other parents about her food allergies. I learned how to insist politely that strangers not feed her and kids not share their snacks. I learned how to make Chloe-safe snacks for other kids to eat with her.

I learned how to cook Chloe-safe holiday meals that were not immediately recognizable as being completely free of Chloe's food allergens.

I learned how to cook healthy, whole-foods meals and appreciate the purity and bounty of freshly harvested food. I learned how to search for and clean up every last m&m, Cheerio, and drop of milk spilled in the house.

I learned how to find the gluten-free section in any grocery store, and to notice that gluten-free does not necessarily mean allergy-friendly, but that sometimes it does. I learned how to ask our local food co-op, of which I am now a member, to carry sunflower seed butter.

I learned how important it is to talk and communicate and talk again and then praise Chloe's caregivers for their vigilance. I learned how to tell others who have never heard of a child being allergic to anything about Chloe's food allergies.

I learned that it is an immune-response to certain proteins, and that it is incurable, and that someday, maybe, she might possibly outgrow her food allergies although the likelihood is remote and that we are in this for life.

I learned at last that I needed to bake for Chloe. I learned which flours were gluten-free and--by intensive trial and error (gluten free pie and pizza crust just isn't worth it) --which recipes to use to make items that are actually delicious--muffins, pancakes, cookies, and most importantly, Chloe's gluten-free, vegan chocolate birthday cake with chocolate frosting, and that it's totally ok to lick the spoon 'cause there's no eggs in it.

I learned that the list of delicious and wonderful food Chloe can enjoy is miles longer than the list of things she can't have, and that at long last an incredibly difficult task can become second nature, and after that a thing to celebrate.

Happy 2nd Birthday, Chloe, I love you!

Hit and miss with local restaurants

Here's our tally so far.

Hit: Calvillo's Mexican Buffet.
Calvillo's makes extremely yummy food, The best aspect is that it's a buffet, and we can pick and choose the safe foods for Chloe without too much guesswork. Another reason I like it is that the chef will custom-make any dish for you. Not that we need to, with so many great offerings that are already safe for Chloe such as beans, salads, fruit, tamales, and corn tortillas. It's a little on the pricy side to take the whole family on a casual outing, but definitely worth it for peace of mind and great personal service from the cook.

Hit: St. Ives Pub.
I was a little worried going into this one because pub food generally means cheesy foods, or foods covered in bread crumbs and deep fried (or both). However. What we did for Chloe is order a turkey bacon guacamole wrap without the cheese, the guacamole (I don't trust sauces and dips unless I make my own, they're obviously safe like salsa, or I've talked personally with the cook), and the wrap. We ended up with a plate of turkey, bacon and tomato slices, shredded lettuce, and plain potato chips. Slightly unorthodox but definitely safe. Bonus: she loved drinking iced water out of a cute cup with a straw.

Half a Hit: True Grit Steakhouse.
Again, a little worrisome, not because of the food itself but because of how it's prepared. Steakhouses love to smother everything in butter. We were out of luck on the vegetables, because they were apparently boiled to within an inch of their life and then completely done in with a boatload of butter. But, we were able to order a plain baked potato and then cut enough of the tender meat inside a large steak for Chloe to be reasonably certain she was not ingesting more than atom-sized amounts of the butter the steak was sauteed in. What made it not quite a full hit was the fact that we couldn't get anything fresh for her, but she dug right into the potato and meat. The fact that John Wayne movie posters plastered the walls somewhat made up for the excess of butter.

Miss: Subway.
We ordered a sandwich for Chloe with the meat and veggies wrapped in one paper and the bread and cheese wrapped in another paper. At the restaurant, all Chloe was interested in was the ham and the olives, so we fed her that with no problems. I put the tomatoes and pickles into a cup and sent it with her lunch at school the next day. Big problems. She broke out in hives just from touching the veggies--on her hand, arm, and mouth. Luckily she didn't ingest any. On the Subway web site, I researched carefully the ingredients lists and their allergy information to see if a preservative might have caused the reaction. Of course, tomatoes and pickles and such are inherently safe, as the web site proclaims and no odd preservatives were listed. But, tomatoes and pickles and such which have been handled by gloves that have touched bread and cheese previously...not so good. Subway is definitely out.

More on local and chain restaurants in a later post.

recognizable food

Years ago, when I first moved to the country, a friend sent me information on how to find hormone-free meats. I wasn't as country-rural-savvy as I am now, because now I know that most ranchers you can buy from only sell hormone-free meat. Of course I didn't have an allergic child then whose every sweet breath and unselfconscious smile I wanted to preserve with all my might, and whose condition prompted me to research the whole-foods movement.

It took a while, but we've finally done it. I've already mentioned the 1/2 cow we bought in October from a local rancher. Someone I know personally, in fact. Furthermore, in fact, the cow was raised by a former student on grass I've probably seen driving to school and back.

Now, finally, on Tuesday, we are going to get our first food box from the local...I'm not sure what you'd call it. It's a gas station/convenience store/organic potato outlet and, I've just learned, a distributor of organic produce, bread, and eggs. A gal I work with was chatting about it at lunch one day. You sign up for a plan, and every other week on Tuesday, a huge cooler box full of organic produce shows up on your front porch. You set out the old cooler and they take it and replace it with the new one full of fresh food.

Food that shows up on your doorstep??? That's organic? And fresh? Hello.

A word I used in one of my last posts has stuck with me for a few days, now. Recognizable. I want my food to be recognizable. "Oh," she said, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth, "how delicious this roasted eggplant with basil and sea salt is!" "Yes, and what a lovely beef roast," he replied as the carving knife glinted in his hand. Recognizable, like that.

For a long time, long before Chloe, I've watched in amazement as people loaded up their shopping carts with food that comes in boxes of various shapes and sizes, or crinkly packages. I mean, LOADED--boxes and packages mounded over the top of the cart. The shoppers are usually leaning over the front bent at the hips, strolling along as if they'd had to allot their entire day to meander the grocery store for boxes and packages and their feet hurt; bowed as if crushed under the weight of all that mystery.

The crazy thing is that there are pictures all over the boxes telling you what is inside, food elements broken down, chopped, burnt, stirred, processed and MESSED WITH until they are long past their original form. "This box has oval-shaped brown things inside, I think," she mused--and how many possibilities can you think of that fit that description?? Even with the pictures, you still can't tell what the food is really MADE of. And reading the ingredients doesn't help, either.

I saw, when we got the lists for Chloe's restricted diet, that I was going to have to learn some new words, "code words" that really meant "milk" or "eggs" or "wheat" or "peanuts" which equal life-threatening distress for my child.

I can't imagine the amount of time it would tack on to a shopping trip if you had to read the long lists on each box and package of processed foods of what the stuff is actually made of. Was it Michael Pollan who uses the term "food-like substances" in his new book? Ok, reluctant disclaimer: I admit to eating food-like substances such as Cheez-its occasionally because I'm dumb and human and sometimes stressed, but I would never serve that to my family for supper or pretend to consider it a logical source of nutrition.

I digress, I see that my original topic was "food boxes" so I'd better get back to it. Recognizable. When you go to the produce section of the grocery store, you see oblong orange things and you immediately know they are carrots. Raw, unprocessed, un-messed-with. You see a crinkly purple spherical object and you know it's red cabbage as naked as the day it was born. And so on. No guesswork, no reading ingredients lists. A red pepper is a red pepper is a red pepper.

I love looking at a dish simmering on the stove and be able to pick out each and every ingredient I used: chicken, check. Potatoes, check. Corn, check. Tomatoes, check. In the bowl on the table: baby spinach leaves, check.

It is a Good Thing to know what one is eating, and an Even Better Thing to know that what one is feeding one's small, innocent, trusting child will not damage or kill her.

How Much Better, then, to have a box full of Recognizable Food show up at your doorstep every other Tuesday? And earn airline miles to boot???

If I could make Chloe understand that organic mangoes (and about seventeen other things) will show up on our doorstep tomorrow afternoon, without any effort on my part at all (besides calling with the payment info and directions to the house [a mile east]), I'd be thrilled because I know she'd be thrilled.

Allergen-Free Easter

Prior to Easter--about two months prior--I started getting emails and newsletters about how to have a safe, allergen-free Easter. I've been so busy this spring that I just skimmed over them and tucked away some of the information for later.

That "later" was today. Our low-key, family-oriented Easter kind of came together at the last minute, but it was so lovely.

Our morning started with Chloe-safe pumpkin muffins and bacon. Andrew ate three muffins, Chloe ate two, and I had three, I think, I'm not sure, they were so good. More on baking in a later post.

For our Easter dinner, Daniel pulled out a roast from the freezer, from our 1/2 cow that we bought last October from a rancher in the area where I teach. Then he decided we should use up as many of our potatoes as we could herbing and roasting them. I emptied the vegetable drawer and cut up the veggies to roast--one eggplant, three green peppers, and four zucchini. All were drizzled in olive oil and seasoned with Italian herbs--nothing complicated.

Yesterday, I went to get Easter things. One of the suggestions for how to have an allergen-free Easter was to not get candy but to get eggs filled with small toys, which I did, and safe candy, which I did. Even though Chloe is too little to eat jelly beans because of the fact that she has exactly three molars, two on the bottom, and ones that are just cutting through on the top, I still made sure the jelly beans I got were not processed on shared equipment as milky, peanutty candies, or even in the same facility (Starburst jelly beans fit the bill). I did pick up several packages of peeps, which according to the newsletters are completely safe, being pure sugar. Chloe, who hardly ever gets candy, got a sugar high just from ingesting several bites, a glazed look in her big blue eyes. "Peet! Peet!" she said, pink sugar coating her grinning mouth.

I also played Easter bunny and got little things to put in Easter baskets: sweaters for my husband and nephew, a book for Andrew, and Aveeno lotion for Chloe.

I didn't really miss the chocolate, until now, as a matter of fact, since I brought it up. Darn it.

We did color a few hard-boiled eggs. My husband and Andrew did that while Chloe looked on, the eggs safely at a distance. She is still too little to want to do things others are doing but that are unsafe for her, or have things others are having that are not safe. As long as she's entertained and fed (maybe in reverse order there) she's happy. She played with the cardboard cutouts from the coloring kit box while the dying was going on.

After the egg-dying, I brought out two dishes of jello I'd made earlier, the peeps and the jelly beans, and said, we are going to make little scenes. Andrew was all over that. He covered the red jello with bunny peeps, while I arranged bird peeps with jelly bean eggs in the green jello, and surrounded them with julienned apple nests.

Over dinner and some Pinot Noir, I surveyed the table with satisfaction. I remember many such meals--roasted meat, potatoes, and veggies-- before Chloe was even a twinkle in her daddy's eyes, and here we were, repeating the meal years later, now with an underlying element of necessity. The lack of heavy chocolate, malted and nutted candies somehow made the feast lighter, more elegant. (Peeps are elegant, come on.)

I know I keep going on about completely allergen-free meals, which seem like overkill for a one-and-a-half-year-old. I'm sufficiently aware of Chloe's needs to know what she can and can't have, and I routinely put together three different suppers on nights the kids and I get home from school. But I have an innate sense of fairness, probably too strong, that tells me that everyone around our table is important, and that it is important to make sure the food is safe for everyone. I've blogged previously about the roasted suppers I love so much, and this was no exception, and so it makes me feel great to know we're creating delicious, balanced and safe meals without depriving anyone.

Ok, well, Andrew didn't get his jelly sandwich, and was forced to eat beef roast and herbed potatoes and apple, but he survived.

I know it would be completely possible for us all to be eating lasagna and to give Chloe some nitrate-free ham, peaches, and a muffin. But it really does offend my sense of fairness and equity for one person out of the family to have something different while the rest of us eat the "real" supper. I'd rather everyone be able to eat the same thing, especially at important occasions.

At our pre-supper prayer, with all of us holding hands (a routine when we are together, I might add) I acknowledged how lucky we are to have these blessings, all this lovely food. I hope, no matter what is in store for Chloe, and for all of us, we can always feel blessed with abundant, high-quality and delicious food.

Happy Easter, everyone.

Tagines

I was going through the pantry and noticed that we were out of a lot of different kinds of beans, but we had several cans of chick peas. I thought, what could I make with chick peas? (or garbanzo beans, whatever your nomenclature preference)

I thought about the chicken pieces in the freezer and thought, aha, a tagine! I was first introduced to tagines at a restaurant in Portland. I was on a very bad date, but that's another story. The food was good, and that's what I remember, and I specifically remember chicken and garbanzoes and some other stuff, and interesting spices.

The combination of foods I remember did not involve any of the ingredients Chloe can't eat, so it sounded perfect.

I skinned the chicken legs and browned them in vegetable oil. I added about 3 cups of water, 3 yams cubed to about 1 inch, two cans of drained and rinsed chick peas, and two handfuls of raisins. I seasoned lightly with pepper, sea salt, and allspice.

While we were at supper Daniel said to me that this reminded him of the kind of meals he ate in Tanzania--a bowl of brothy rice and beans with some chicken pieces. It started me thinking about all the possible variations.

The main elements of the theme: smallish meat pieces, and a variety of additional and complementary ingredients.

The results from googling "tagine" yielded information that the traditional Moroccan tagines are made with lamb, olives, and lemon, and that traditionally the dishes include citrus fruits and almonds. Many of the dishes are served with flatbread and olives, and of course, we couldn't serve flatbread to Chloe (or almonds), but we could serve the tagines with rice to soak up the broth, and fruit such as grapes to accompany it.

So we thought of all the Chloe-safe chicken variations we could:
potatoes, celery, carrots, Italian herbs
corn on the cob pieces, black beans, red pepper, southwest spices
lemon, rice, olives
potatoes, tomatoes, garbanzo beans, onion
peas, carrots, potatoes
white beans & sausage (kind of like a jambalaya without the shrimp)

There would probably be quite a few variations using lamb or other meats. I'm excited because the possibilities seem endless. This particular concoction, with the yams, chick peas and raisins, even pleased my husband's palate. He confessed to being "pleasantly surprised" by the taste and had two helpings.

What I like about cooking these is that for one, they're easy, just a little bit of prep and tossing everything in one pan to simmer. Secondly, the ingredients are natural and close to their original form--recognizable. Third, the finished dish is very pretty to look at with all the various colorful foods mixed together. If you had a traditional tagine dish with the cone-shaped lid, they would be lovely indeed.

Most importantly, it's all safe for Chloe.