Recipe Symbiosis: Fresh Almond Milk and Almond Meal Tabbouleh

Sometimes it just seems as if the world is going to fall apart at any second. Disheartened by more than a few tragic acts of violence in the news this week, I was comforted and inspired by my friend Hannah’s blog post this morning on fear, grieving and love. Though it’s certainly not a replacement for political activism, there is something we can do about the way violence makes us feel. It may not be an easy task but it requires zero travel or paperwork or research because it’s very close to home. In the words of Hannah, “You have to wake up every damn day and say yes to LOVE. It is a decision.” I think she really nailed it. Violence stems from fear, which leaves us feeling isolated. We live in a world so connected by technology, yet we are more alone than ever, in our homes, in our cars, in our minds. By being with others, grieving with others and showing love for one another in community, we are counteracting the fear and isolation that are at the root of terrorism. 

AND, at the root of love for others is self-love. We cannot truly and freely give love to others without also giving it to ourselves. As a chronic comparer-of-self-to-others, self-love is something I’ve really been trying to cultivate as an antidote. My new goal is to be as “Margot” as possible, as opposed to trying to be anyone or anything else. The following poem was just introduced to me in a yoga class, and having it read aloud to me while in a relaxed state was profound. It helped me understand what self-love is, what it feels like, and how to access it in myself. This is a good one to hang on the wall as a reminder or read aloud with your dearest friends.  

The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

— Derek Walcott

It’s probably not a coincidence that I am obsessed with recipes that create considerably little waste by using “by-products” of other recipes. It speaks to that same wholeness embodied in self-love. As an old roommate of mine used to say “there is no away.” So when we “throw something away” in the garbage, it is still there, on the earth creating toxicity, which we ignore. We can also easily turn away from our feelings, like feelings of grief, which are still there, and the longer we ignore them, the more they build up and become toxic to us. Facing yourself and what you feel may not be as scary as you think, but of course, we are trained in so many ways to think we should look the other way. This recipe symbiosis (and there will probably be more like it to come) is a dedication to “greeting yourself arriving at your own door.” Though almond milk and tabbouleh are not mirror images of each other, they certainly “smile at each other’s welcome.”  

Tabbouleh is the pinnacle of freshness when it comes to summer salads. Bright, mineral-dense and mildly bitter, parsley plays a major role, with cooling and pungent mint as its supporting side-kick. Juicy ripe tomatoes and crisp cucumbers give it substance, while chives and lemon tie it all together. The almond meal that results from making almond milk is a delightful replacement for the traditional bulgur wheat as the salad’s “grain”. It is soft, nutty, protein-rich, and of course gluten free. In fact, I’ve found myself making almond milk when I don’t need it, just to have this super nutritious salad, so saying it is a “by-product” of almond milk hardly counts. Instead, I like to think that these recipes feed each other. The meal and the milk are equally important in this symbiotic relationship of recipes. Fresh nut milks are a favorite in our house even though I love quality dairy products too. Really fresh almond milk tastes so clean and rich, there’s nothing quite like it. It’s also easy to digest (see my post on pre-soaking nuts and grains), making it “feel clean” going down. 

Fresh Almond Milk

  • 1 cup of almonds
  • 4 cups of water, plus more for soaking
  • pinch salt

Cover the almonds generously with water and soak overnight or at least 8 hours. You can soak them up to 24 hours. Drain and rinse the almonds and add them to a blender with 4 cups water and a pinch of salt. Blend on high for 30 seconds. Strain into a pot or bowl through a piece of muslin cloth or a mesh “nut milk bag” and use all your might to squeeze out every last drop (you want the meal to be pretty dry). Pour the milk into a quart-sized jar or bottle and refrigerate. Keeps about one week. Spread the meal into a thin layer so that it can further dry while you prep the tabbouleh.

Almond Meal Tabbouleh

makes 4-6 servings

  • Almond meal from one almond milk recipe (see above)
  • 1 1/2 cups chopped flat-leaf parsley
  • 1 cup  chopped cucumber 
  • 1 cup chopped ripe tomato, drained
  • 1/2 cup chopped mint
  • 1/2 cup chopped chives or scallions
  • zest of one lemon
  • 1/4 cup fresh lemon juice
  • 3 Tbsp. extra virgin olive oil
  • 1/2 tsp. fine sea salt
  • 1/4 tsp. freshly ground pepper

Toss the parsley, tomatoes, cucumbers, mint and chives together in a large bowl. Mix the zest, juice, oil, salt and pepper in a small dish or jar and pour over the salad. Toss again. If you have the time, let the salad sit for 20-30 minutes for the flavors to meld. If not, it’ll still be great! Mix the almond meal in at the last minute and serve. 

 

 

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