Don't Tell On the Rise That I Have Their Recipes

Dear Turkey,

Once upon a time, before I had wrinkles, there was an awesome bakery called On the Rise. It  was a very-hip, woman-owned, collective, vegan, no-processed-anything, no-refined-sugar, gluten-free, fair-trade, organic, no-cruelty-to-animals, etc. type of place (or at least a couple of those things). But, eventually, the burden of being some or all of those things got to be too much even for them, and they closed. 

Fast-forward a few years: I have one or two wrinkles, but not as many as I have now, and an anonymous person gives me an unsolicited present: a photocopy of the entire On the Rise cookbook -- like the one that they actually used to make their righteous recipes (maybe they are so liberated that copyright infringement doesn't bother them; either way, I will keep my source secret).

You might think that the On the Rise recipes would have an unpleasant aftertaste of healthfulness, wholesomeness, and morality. Au contraire Turkeyman. It turns out that all of those good attributes, combined in the right proportions, can trick your mouth into thinking you're eating butter and sugar (not that there's anything wrong with that, either).

Yesterday I made barley shortcakes. They're kind of like what would happen if a scone ate a biscuit: brown crackly outside, smooth flaky inside. 

In a giant bowl, combine: 1/2c canola oil, 1/2c maple syrup that your friend made, 1c soymilk  or milk of your choice, 1/2T vanilla, 3c barley flour, 1/2c oat flour, 3/4c cornmeal, 1.5T baking powder, 3/4t salt. Do not overmix.

I made two batches and divided 24 shortcakes on two baking stones lined with parchment. I spooned a little jam over the shortcakes on one stone just for an experiment (success).

Bake at 400 degrees

for 14 minutes.

Enjoy right then

or arrange on a beautiful platter for your husband's viewing pleasure when he gets home.

While you're on a platter kick, slice one red onion, two tomatoes, one cucumber, some parsley, and  dress generously with the juice of one lemon and lots of salt, stand a few minutes before serving (we call this Ethiopian Salad because they used to serve it at one of our favorite Ethiopian restaurants [sadly, also closed -- now if I could only find their cookbook]).

Serve with everybody's new favorite bread, tomato jam,

and Finding Nemo Soup.

The next day, bring some shortcakes to work with you so you can eat them and re-live it all while you write your blog post. Just don't put a sentence like that in your blog if your boss is a subscriber.

I moss you,
Tofu