There was once a time when I slung sugar for a living.
As a professional baker, it was my job to bake 10 pies, three dozen muffins, and a couple of cheesecakes before most people had eaten breakfast. I sweated in tiny kitchens, hauled 50 pound bags of flour up rickety stairs, and stood on my feet from 5:00 a.m. until 3:00 p.m. Yet I recount the time fondly.
I loved baking so much I was even contemplating studying to become a pastry chef. Except for one thing — my body.
Midway through my career I checked a book out of the library about managing candida. Having experienced a list of horrendous candida symptoms for two years, I went on a strict protocol for four weeks of no sugar, grain, fruit, alcohol, or vinegar. After about 10 days, I broke down in a binge of fudge-covered brownies. I immediately sentenced myself to another six weeks of hard labor.
I made it through those six weeks not sampling my frosting nor tasting the consistency of a single cookie. I stood in the wafting scent of pies fresh from the oven and trusted this temporary constriction as guidance from something greater than my love of sugar.
When the candida symptoms cleared, I knew I needed a new line of work.
Untying the Apron Strings
I shifted my focus into a career built from my other passion — writing — and put away my apron for all but the specialist of occasions. I fell in love with wholesome food, more fresh than refined, more lean than juicy.
But certain memories haunted me.
The way my grandfather used to chuckle as he presented me with a Tupperware filled with overbaked peanut butter cookies on every visit until I was in my 20s.
The sound of my grandmother’s voice as she recited to me her most beloved recipes over the telephone. I still have the index cards filled with my bubbly adolescent printing.
The call I made to my mother – not a baker by skill or desire — my freshman year of college asking for a care package with homemade brownies, and the square cardboard things she sent me that no one could eat.
Yes, I had fallen in love with the healthy things, but I could not overlook the nurturance that comes from the first soft, sweet bite right out of the oven.
The Resurrection of Baked Goods
When faced with two choices, my nature follows the third way. So that’s what I created.
When Ayurveda came into my life, it inspired me to learn to bake on my terms. I experimented with using only whole ingredients and writing recipes that would digest well and taste good.
The first tries were a bit disastrous. Cakes without eggs crumbled. Cookies made from overworked whole wheat flour turned into rocks. But my philosophy in and out of the kitchen is that we must allow ourselves to screw up. It’s the only way to learn.
Giving myself this allowance is why, after a good six months of compost-quality desserts, I stumbled on some incredible standby formulas.
Like my Mylk and Cookies recipe below.
What to Do with the Almond Pulp from Almond Mylk
As I showed you last month, homemade almond mylk is incredible. And once you begin to make these cookies, you will never imagine throwing away perfectly good pulp from the soaked, ground, and strained almonds.
As with all my Ayurvedic (un)recipes, I encourage you to riff on the guideline I’ve provided. I know I do. I made this recipe with whole wheat flour for years, but recently started using fresh ground oat flour the last few times and found it far superior (my family agrees). I routinely change the spices from what I’ve listed below and sometimes include the lemon zest, sometimes not.
Playfully experiment – what would you do if there were no consequences? Because remember that when you are bold enough to ask yourself what you really like, you might just find out.
Mylk and Cookies Ayurvedic (un)Recipe
Makes about 12
1 cup organic oat flour (toss some steel cut or rolled oats into your blender for about 30 seconds) or whole wheat flour
1 cup almond pulp from almond mylk
½ tsp. Mineral or sea salt
1 – 2 tsp. organic lavender flowers or rose petals (or both!)
¾ tsp. cardamom
¼ cup maple syrup
¼ cup coconut or sunflower oil or ghee
½ tsp. lemon zest
Heat your oven to 325 F and prepare a baking sheet with parchment (baker’s tip: reduce waste and cost by reusing your parchment until it’s completely unusable).
Combine the flour, almond pulp, and salt in a large bowl. Break up the chunks of almond pulp with your clean hands until the mixture is coarse and well combined.
Place the lavender flowers in the palm of your non-dominant hand and break up the flowers by rubbing them in your dominant-hand fingertips. This releases their oils and makes them easier to chew. Add them to flour mixture and combine well with your hands.
Stir together the maple syrup, oil, and lemon zest in a separate bowl. Mix well, then add to the flour mixture. Using your hands (they’re the best tool), begin to draw the dough together. The dough should be soft enough to form into a moist ball.
Break off golf ball-sized chunks and roll them into balls into the centers of your palms. Press the cookies flat and place on the cookie sheet. (These cookies will not spread, so you can place them fairly close to one another.)
Bake 13-17 minutes or until they are firm but easily spring back in the center.
Enjoy with a cup of almond mylk and a new attitude about nourishment.
