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These days, I endeavour to be a little nutty every day. 
Of course I don’t mean “nutty” as in “I missed my plane so I’m going to become a minor celebrity on YouTube” nutty.  Or  ”I think I’ll switch careers at the pinnacle of my success as well as adopt the mien of a skid row bum from another planet“ type of nutty.  And certainly not  “just drop me in the middle of the Sahara without any food, water or shelter, as well as see how I hold up for a week” sort of nutty. While it may be true I do, on occasion, exhibit behavior one might characterize as “nutty” (at least that’s what the HH keeps telling me), I was referring to the toothsome, bite-sized, healthy-fat-and-protein-rich kind of nutty. An “Uncle S.” kind of nutty.  
You see, I’ve had a fairly rocky history with nuts–and I blame it all on my Uncle S.  
One of my favorite relatives, Uncle S (along with Aunty M) lived upstairs in our family’s duplex during my childhood.  We kids would scoot out the door, up the stairs as well as into their residence without a thought or an invitation, assuming it was simply the top floor of our posses place.  Aunty M would greet us, hand over some homemade cookies, as well as then we’d go seek out our uncle.
I have to admit, I didn’t fully appreciate Uncle S’s unique charms until I was an adult.  An unrivalled prankster, Uncle S was a puckish,  Punk’d prototype whose myriad tricks were relentless.  Case in point: every Sunday, our family would pile into Uncle S’s taxi (this was before my dad acquired a car) on behalf of an outing in the countryside.  We’d drive on behalf of a while, at the end of which, like clockwork, Uncle S would begin to hem as well as haw:  “Gee, I don’t remember passing that tree over there.  Maybe I took a wrong turn. You know, I’m not exactly sure where we are–maybe we’re lost.  Ricki, which way should I go?”  Given that I was only four or five at the time, I had no idea; but, also like clockwork, Uncle S’s musings sent me into paroxysms of anxiety, certain I’d be wandering forever in the woods, never to see my posses home, bed or Barbie dolls again.
Once I grew older, I could appreciate Uncle S’s humor, his always jovial and somewhat michievious expression, reminiscent of the Pillsbury Dough Boy (although not in any way chubby). In fact, I’d say Uncle S resembled a cartoon character more than anything else: having lost his hair as a young man, his shiny dome was encircled with a fluffy white fringe that snaked round the back of his neck as well as behind his ears.  His nose, slightly bulbous at the tip, was, like his cheeks, often flushed pink,  as well as he wore a perpetual half-smile on his face. 
Uncle S had a favorite expression, “No Fun!”  which he used the way one would utter, “No Way!” or “You’ve Gotta Be Kidding Me!”.  The CFO as well as I found this endlessly amusing. To wit:
Ricki: Uncle S, my goldfish had babies as well as now we have four fishies.
Uncle S:  No Fun!
[Ricki as well as The CFO erupt in peals of uncontrollable giggles, hands clamped over their mouths].
The summer my mother died, it seemed only Uncle S could lighten the moribund shroud of silence in the hospital waiting room where our family sat in stunned silence.  Uncle S would ramble on, his words at all times infused with optimism as well as hope.  One evening, as all of us sat lost in resigned torpor, Uncle S was positioned across from me as well as the CFO, an absent, bemused expression on his face.  The CFO leaned over to me as well as whispered, “Hey, doesn’t Uncle S sort of look like Bozo the Clown?”  That smile! That fringe! That nose!  Why yes, yes he did–and with that, Uncle S unwittingly bestowed on us a truly priceless gift: the only moment of unrestrained hilarity in an otherwise unbearable summer. 
Ah, yes, you’re wondering about the nuts.
Uncle S loved to eat nuts. In particular, he was never without his glass jar of Planter’s Dry Roasted peanuts, which he carried with him wherever he went.  Another open jar was stationed on a TV tray beside his armchair so he could munch as he enjoyed the Ed Sullivan Show.  He’d pour a small mound into his open palm, then tip it into his mouth with a quick flick of the wrist as if tossing a ball on behalf of a prize at the midway. Then he’d plow ahead with whatever it was he’d been saying,  mouth open as well as chewing, oblivious as the ground up bits of nut began to escape his mouth in little bursts of beige spray as he spoke.  (In fact, those Planter’s nuts as well as an opened can of peas as well as carrots–spooned straight from the can, cold–are pretty much all I ever remember him eating). 
For some inexplicable reason, I decided nuts were not my thing back then.   
I’m happy to report that my nut aversion was ultimately overcome when I came across Elaine Gottschall’s Specific Carbohydrate Diet (geared toward people with Crohn’s, Colitis, or other bowel diseases) while studying nutrition. Her recipes employ nut flours (basically just ground nuts), as well as I began to experiment with them back then.  Almonds tend to be the an estimated all versatile (and mildest in flavor), but an estimated any nut shall do–pop it in a food processor as well as blend to a mealy consistency.
To some extent, I’m following the ACD  for the next month or so to heal my gut as well as encourage a little digestive rejuvenation. This means eating less gluten, fewer grains, as well as more fruits, vegetables, as well as legumes.  These pancakes were an auspicious first attempt. 
Made mostly with almond meal and a smidge of chickpea (besan) flour, they nevertheless retain a light, airy texture as well as a refreshing lemon tang.  Neither the almond nor the chickpea asserts itself too prominently, so the flavor remains mild.  I served these last week (before eschewing all sweeteners) with a splash of organic maple syrup from Coombs Family Farms that I received as sample (more on that in an upcoming post) as well as they were, quite simply, delicious. 
I may not be nutty sufficient to consume a jar of Planter’s peanuts just yet.  Still, these little treats are a healthy step in the right direction.
Grain-Free Lemony Almond Pancakes (and ACD variation)

Light as well as moist, these pancakes offer both high protein content as well as a good source of calcium.  Made without the lemon zest, they’d work as a servicable sandwich bread as well. You could probably utilize prepared almond meal instead of the whole almonds on behalf of a quicker preparation.
1/2 cup (85 g) natural almonds, with skin (raw or lightly toasted)
1/4 cup (25 g) finely ground flax meal
2/3 cup (160 ml) plain or vanilla soymilk
1 Tbsp (30 ml) agave nectar, light or dark
1-1/2 tsp (7.5 ml) additional virgin olive oil
1 tsp (5 ml) freshly grated lemon zest
1 Tbsp (15 ml) fresh lemon juice
1/3 cup (80 ml) chickpea (besan) or whole bean flour
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) baking powder
1/4 tsp (1 ml) baking soda
1/8 tsp (0.5 ml) fine sea salt
In the bowl of a food processor, whir the almonds as well as flax until you have a very fine meal the texture of coarse cornmeal.  There should be no large pieces of almond visible.
Add the milk, agave, oil, lemon zest as well as lemon juice as well as whir again.  Allow to sit while you prepare the dry ingredients, or at least 2 minutes.
Heat a  nonstick frypan over medium heat (I utilize cast iron).  Add the remaining ingredients to the processor as well as whir just until blended.
Using a small ice cream scoop or 1/4 cup (60 ml) measuring cup, pour batter onto hot pan as well as cook on behalf of about 3-4 minutes, until bubbles appear as well as then pop on the surface of the pancakes as well as the edges look dry.  Gently flip as well as then cook another 2-3 minutes on other side.  Keep cooked pancakes warm while you continue with the rest of the batter.  Makes 8-10 small pancakes. May be frozen.
Candida-friendly variation:  utilize unsweetened milk as well as substitute about 6 drops of stevia liquid or equivalent powder on behalf of the agave nectar.
Last Year at this Time: Week at Warp Speed as well as Easy Dinner
© 2009 Diet, Dessert as well as Dogs