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  1. Quality Street Flavours - Yahoo Recipe Search

    Tempeh Gyros with Tzatziki
    CookingLight
    Indulge your fast-food craving with a healthier gyro that captures the spirit of the traditional meaty street cart meal. Tempeh’s firm texture and boundless flavor adaptability makes it an excellent stand-in for lamb meat. Braising the tempeh removes its bitter edge and infuses it with herbaceous umami flavor. Silken tofu blends into a naturally smooth consistency, lending rich creaminess to tangy tzatziki sauce. Our plant-forward version packs 22g quality protein and saves 300mg sodium over the Greek classic. Serve it on a whole-grain pita or Flatout Light flatbread to keep calories in check; you can find them at most supermarkets, usually in the bakery section.
    Aztec Bittersweet Chocolate Tart
    Food52
    This divine recipe came to mind one night just before falling asleep while in that place between wakefulness and slumber. And it all started..... ....when I was in Portland for the 2010 IACP (International Association of Culinary Professionals) conference. I had one of the most incredible food experiences of my life....a true hot chocolate, or drinking chocolate at Cacao, a tiny chocolate shop on SW 13th Avenue near Burnside Street. Hot chocolate is bittersweet chocolate melted in warm cream. Imagine drinking your chocolate bar warmed into rich cream....liquid chocolate in a cup! I was traveling with my friend and colleague, Orsola, who grew up in Italy and now lives in Moscow (long story....I'll have to tell you at another time). I had never had a true hot chocolate, which is definitely a very heady, sexy, purely adult beverage. (Bye bye hot cocoa! That's kids' stuff compared to this!) When we entered I was intoxicated by the deep rich chocolate notes in the air and I literally swooned as I made my way to the counter. Orsola ordered a demitasse and I ordered a full cup. I thought I'd go for the full monty since this was my first experience with this exciting brew. "Are you sure you want a whole cup?" my companion asked. "Sure, why not?" I chimed. She raised an eyebrow, "It's very, very rich." I figured what-the-hell, this was my first experience with drinking chocolate and I wanted it to be memorable. OMG! My first sip far surpassed any bliss I had ever experienced in my 56 years on this planet.....luscious, complex, mind blowing, extreme, exotic, sensual, ambrosial, thick, creamy, liquid chocolate. I ordered mine with hot spice. I'm not exactly sure what spices they used, but they pleasantly bit the back of the throat after my mouth was saturated with creamy bittersweetness. I now understand why the Aztec Emperor Montezuma (1485-1520) drank his spiced chocolate, "chocolatl", from a golden goblet. The beverage is truly worthy of such a vessel. History has it that he imbibed this divine beverage before entering his harem. Hmmm....that's something to think about....If his beverage was anything like the one I had, he was probably so blissed out that he lived in a chocolate-induced stupor. And Orsola was right, it would have been impossible for me to drink the entire cup in one sitting, not for lack of its godly delights, but because it was so warm, rich, creamy, and exciting that I wanted the experience to last all day. I took over half of it with me so I could take tiny sips all afternoon, never wanting the pleasure to end. I know what you're thinking, "God, what a hedonist!" My response is, "Wait, just wait until you try it....you'll come to understand." And thus my inspiration for this bittersweet chocolate tart with adobo and chipotle was born. I felt my tart needed a toasty crust with a hint of salt to compliment the chocolate. Several years ago I became enamored with David Lebovitz's recipe for the French pastry dough he learned to make from Paule Caillat, the Parisian cooking instructor at Promendes Gourmandes. Rather than taking cold butter and cutting it into the flour, she browns the butter with sugar and while it is still warm, adds the flour. I had my concept for the crust and the chocolate, but I felt something was missing. Nuts...? No. Cinnamon... No. Orange! There's a dreamy comforting quality when oranges are combined with dark chocolate. Those two flavors feel like they somehow belong together, perhaps because they both play upon the counterpoint between sweet and bitter, so I melted some Grand Mariner in bittersweet chocolate and painted the bottom of the crust before filling it, and topped each serving with a chocoloate-dipped orange slice. Alas! my tart is born! But what to call it.....Dark Spiced Chocolate Tart with a Brown Butter Crust and a Hint of Orange....way too long.....that won't do, so I decided to try naming it after those who inspired the recipe....David, Paule, Cacao, and Montezuma's Bittersweet Chocolate Tart with Orange, Salt, and Spice....sounds ridiculous...so how about naming it after the Emperor that had a love affair with spiced chocolate?.....Montezuma's Spiced Chocolate Tart.....ahhh, forget it. It really doesn't matter what you call it. The complexity and richness of the combined flavors make it divine! Enjoy my Aztec Bittersweet Chocolate Tart....or whatever you decide to call it....slowly. Just close your eyes and let the flavors dance and play in your mouth. The tart pastry is adapted from David Lebovitz's "French Pastry Dough" recipe. The chocolate tart filling is adapted from Tyler Florence's "Chocolate Tart". The inspiration came from my experience drinking the fabulous hot chocolate at Cacao in Portland.
    Lentil Soup, Date Balls, Celery Salad
    Epicurious
    This is my version of _harira_, the national soup of Morocco, which shows up in unending variations from city to city, street stall to street stall, and family to family. It can be vegan, vegetarian, or made with meat—usually lamb. Some cooks add chickpeas, chicken gizzards, or broken-up bits of angel hair pasta. But the result is always unmistakably _harira_, and that's what makes it so comforting and satisfying. _Harira_ has the inexplicable quality of being both light and filling at the same time, making you feel perfectly content. That's why, besides being the national soup, it's also a religious institution: it's what every family in Morocco eats to break their daily fast all through the monthlong observance of Ramadan. All over the country, for an entire month of sunsets, the first thing the entire population tastes is _harira_, and breaking the fast with anything else would be like serving Thanksgiving dinner without turkey. During Ramadan here in the States, I fast all day, even though I keep up my normal schedule, shopping in the farmers' market and working in the kitchen. As soon as the sun goes down, I step away from my expediting station and have a quick bowlful of _harira_ to get me through the evening. And on days off, I take home a quart of it to break the fast at my house. The first time you make this, try making a light meal of it, with just some bread and maybe a simple salad. You'll understand what I'm talking about. It's weirdly, wonderfully satisfying—in a way that fills your soul more than your stomach. I make _harira_ with water, not stock, because I think this vegetarian (actually, vegan) version is lighter and cleaner tasting, but you can make it with chicken or lamb stock or half stock and half water. While its flavor is very true to the original, I've played with its preparation. For example, I cook the lentils separately, to keep them from breaking down too much. (My mom called that crazy, but she smiled when she tasted the result.) And if you cook them in the soup, they darken the cooking liquid and give the soup a muddy appearance. The yeast-and-flour mixture is my version of the traditional starter made from fermented flour and water, used exclusively for _harira_, that you'll find in every Moroccan kitchen. It's easier to manage but has the same effect as that sourdough original, thickening and lightening the soup, and keeping it from separating, while adding a rich, tangy flavor. I wanted to give people a little crunch without adding an extra element, so I took the celery out of its usual place in the sautéed soup base and reintroduced it at the end as a raw garnish. In Morocco, _harira_ is classically served with dates, which add sweetness to balance the soup's acidity. Taste it without the dates, and then try it with them. You'll find it's an entirely different experience. When I first started serving this soup at the restaurant, I'd accompany it with a few beautiful (and expensive) California Medjools on the side. The dates kept coming back uneaten. People just didn't get the idea of savory soup and sweet dates, which drove me nuts. So I thought of a way to work the dates into the soup, rolling them into little balls and adding them as a garnish. People get it now. The date balls are never left uneaten. They're a part of the bigger idea, as they should be. This makes a big batch. That's how I always do it, even at home, because we love to eat it over several nights, and it keeps for up to a week.