Monday, December 24, 2007
An Easy, Nutty Meal
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Pan de Polvo
Recently I came across a weatherbeaten index card on which she had written her recipe. (After doing a search, I discovered that it is practically identical to this one at Cooks.com.)
3 lbs flour
1 1/2 lbs Crisco (by which no doubt she meant shortening)
8 oz sugar
1/2 cup cool cinnamon tea
Mix all ingredients and work into a smooth dough.
Pinch off tiny pieces, roll between palms, and form into tiny rings.
Bake in moderate oven (about 350 degrees) until rings start to brown.
When cool roll in powdered sugar and cinnamon.
Monday, December 17, 2007
Slow Cooked Venison Roast
When I moved to the country, I had a chance to get to know more about animals that are often eaten for meat. I still haven't reached the point where I could kill one myself. But I now have a better understanding of the relationship between humans and meat animals.
Deer are an example. They're beautiful, and I love to see them. But they also tend to overpopulate in the environment humans create. When humans arrived here in Nova Scotia, there were relatively few if any deer. When we cut down most of the forests and replaced them with gardens and crops, we created an environment that is far more hospitable to deer than the ancient forests were. We eradicated the cougar and wolf and brought down the bobcat population; nowadays, if it weren't for coyotes (which are also not native) and the automobile, deer would have almost no predators at all.
Which brings me to hunting. Being shot is not a great way to die, I'm sure. But it's better than starving, which is the fate that awaits animals that overpopulate, and it is certainly no more painful than being killed by a wolf. Not all hunters behave responsibly, and I don't want those hunters on my land. But recently I met a hunter who kills what he shoots at and eats what he kills, and he is welcome here. As a result, I sometimes get a gift of venison, and it gives me great pride to be able to cook and eat flesh that grew wild on or near my own land.
4 lb. venison roast*
one onion, chopped
2 garlic cloves, chopped
2 tablespoonfuls canola oil
2 cups crushed tomatoes**
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp celery salt
2 tsp Worcestershire sauce
1 tsp freshly ground pepper
3 tablespoonfuls brown sugar
1 tablespoonful Dijon mustard
1 tablespoon lemon juice
dash of nutmeg
2 large potatoes, peeled and quartered**
2-4 carrots, peeled and cut into chunks**
1. Sautee onion and garlic in olive oil
2. Add tomatoes
3. Add salt, celery salt, Worcestershire sauce, ground pepper, brown sugar, mustard, lemon juice, and nutmeg
4. Place roast in a large (5 qt slow cooker) or pot
6. Cover with tomatoes
7. Add carrots and potatoes
Cover and cook on low for 8 hours.
* If your roast is bigger than 4 lbs, increase other ingredients accordingly.
** Preferably ones you grew yourself or that were grown locally.
Sunday, December 02, 2007
Oatmeal's Revenge
In retrospect, I realize it's likely my parents were not expected to arrive accompanied by a minor. But that wasn't my parents' style (I cannot remember ever having a babysitter), so the three of us arrived together at the grand hacienda.
The next thing I knew, my parents were being ushered to a beautifully set dining table while I was being hauled off into the kitchen to eat with the rest of the children. That alone was enough to infuriate me in those days. But imagine my ire when I discovered that, while the adults were experiencing what Texans considered fine dining, the children were being given ... oatmeal.
And by oatmeal I mean just oatmeal. It appeared to have been made with water. If salt was used, it was imperceptible. And nothing was placed on the table that might afflict the tastelessness of this meal. No salt, no butter, no milk, no sugar.
So of course I refused to eat it.
The story might well end there--I would have gotten hungry, but my parents would have fed me when we got home and everything would have been find. Except that wealthy Texans in those days were big on discipline, this distinguished household had a rule that children were to eat whatever they were given.
I was ordered to eat. I balked. I was hauled, crying, out into the dining room where the adults were in the middle of their sumptuous meal (evidently it never occurred to anyone that flaunting what the adults were eating might not be the best way to get me to eat the wallpaper paste waiting in the kitchen).
My parents, who had never forced me to eat anything I didn't want to, were helpless. And so the rancher himself stepped up to deliver ... you guessed it, the Starving Children in India speech. While he sat there surrounded by the symbols of his own wealth, eating to excess while his own children choked down oats and water, he actually had the nerve to give That Speech.
I don't remember what happened after that. I do know that my parents were never invited back. And yet they never mentioned my behavior, never blamed me for the collapse of this social opportunity. From what I know of my parents, I doubt they cared.
Which brings me to the subject of oatmeal. With nothing added to it, oatmeal is as close to tasteless as any foodlike substance ever comes. But with just a little of the care that the rancher's kitchen staff failed to take, it can be very yummy without being loaded down with bad-for-you sugars and fats. Whole oats (never quick cook or instant!) are a great source of insoluble fibre, which lowers cholesterol among other benefits.
On these cold mornings, I often make oatmeal, happy in the knowledge that the rancher in my story probably died years ago from a heart attack brought on by eating too much steak.
6 cups water
3 cups old-fashioned or steel-cut oats (steel cut oats cook faster but make a mushier porridge)
1 3/4 cups raisins or other chopped dried fruit (tip: dried apricots have a low glycemic index and are very nutritious)
1/2 teaspoon salt or salt to taste
1 1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 1/2 cups unsweetened applesauce
6 tablespoons maple syrup or molasses (omit this or use artificial sweetener if you want to cut the sugar content)
6 tablespoons of chopped nuts (I usually use walnuts)
Combine all of the above and simmer until it achieves the desired consistency. You can also make this in a rice cooker. Contrary to a widespread misconception, oats do not take a long time to cook. I put a pot of oatmeal on just before going to my office to write this. By the time I'd finished, the oatmeal was done.
For a treat, add cream or butter. But this isn't necessary. For calcium and a milky flavor, I sometimes pour on evaporated skim milk.
This recipe makes enough to over-feed 4 people. You can save the leftovers and reheat them in the microwave the next day.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Pecan Puddings
This year I stumbled on a way to get all the good stuff out of making pecan pie while lightening the load a bit. My trick also encourages portion control, letting people enjoy this much-loved dessert with much less risk of overeating it.
What happened was this: I made a pecan pie for Thanksgiving, but I ran out of space in the pie crust before I ran out of pie filling. So I grabbed a small glass ramekin, just big enough to hold about a quarter cup of pie filling, sprayed it with cooking spray, poured the remaining pie filling into that, and put it in the oven alongside the pie. I took it out of the oven about 10 minutes before the pie was done (it cooked faster because it was in a small glass container), let it cool, and then gave it to my husband as a treat. He said he didn't miss the pie crust at all, and that the amount of pie filling in the ramekin was exactly the amount he would (ideally) eat in one serving.
Tim also raved about the recipe I used for filling, which is based on the one in my precious 1997 edition of The Joy of Cooking. I've tried a lot of pecan pie recipes, and also tasted a lot of commercially made pecan pies. In my opinion (and Tim's), this is the one that gives the perfect balance of sweetness to pecan flavor.
2 cups pecan pieces
3 large or 4 medium eggs (I prefer the latter)
1 cup sugar
1 cup golden corn syrup
3 tablespoons regular butter (with salt), melted
1 tablespoon dark rum (I use Gosling's Black Seal, which is also my favorite sippin' liquor)
Preheat the oven to 375 degrees, with the rack in the center of the oven.
Spread the pecan pieces on a baking sheet and toast them in the oven, stirring at least once, for 6 to 10 minutes. (To find out whether they're done, give them a sniff. If they smell roasted, they are.)
Meanwhile, whisk the remaining ingredients until blended.
Stir in the toasted nuts.
Spray ramekins with butter-flavored cooking spray. (How many ramekins you'll need depends on how big they are. For the best portion control, use ones that hold only about a quarter cup.)
Pour pie filling into ramekins. Put them on a baking sheet and put them in the oven. Bake until the edges are firm and the center is just barely set, about 25 minutes.
Cool before serving.
These can be served with a small dollup of whipped cream or vanilla ice cream (use nonfat for more calorie control).
They can be kept for 2 days in the refrigerator. But warm them to room temp or place them in a 275 degree oven for 10 minutes before you serve them.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Late Summer Sandwich
Extra virgin olive oil with fruity, peppery taste, to taste
Parmesan cheese, grated, about 2 T or to taste
2 eggs, preferably from local chickens
Chopped tomato, preferably locally grown. A mix of red and yellow cherry tomatoes right from the vine is especially pretty and good.
Fresh basil leaves, about 4
Scramble the eggs with the cheese and the tomato
Toast the bread and drizzle it with the olive oil
Assemble these ingredients into a sandwich with a layer of fresh basil leaves
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
A Ducktail
IT WAS HOT, AND MY DUCK WAS GONE. ... OK, time to make the long story shorter. Duck is both a duck and a representative of the bird community frequently referred to as ducks. She's one of four I adopted back in May (and have blogged about on both the Wild Flora's Farm and Wild Gardening blogs). Yesterday we had a bit of a broo hoo hoo, as one might expect when adopting poultry. The ducks were learning how to fly; my ancient Great Pyrenees dog Molly (blogged about frequently at the Wild Flora's Farm blog) suddenly Rediscovered her Lost Youth and decided to (try to) chase them. Duck (the others being named Cover, Run, and Hide) took off. We made a sincere effort to find her but, alas, she seemed to have Vanished.
Cut to: The following day, and it was Hot. Hot by Nova Scotia standards is not ALL THAT hot--low 80s--but is humid enough to drown a squid. I'm not a fan of Heat, so I would have been in a Bad Mood anyway, even if Duck's disappearance had not been not preying upon my mind.
I got up early and went looking for Duck. I took my walking stick, which has a carved raven's head on the top, and I found my way carefully down the steep slope behind the house, which goes down to the pond. I was very worried that Duck was trapped somewhere, worried enough so that I took risk I'd fall and end up trapped myself as a result. But ... no Duck.
Cut to: The day has passed. It's almost 5. I've been looking for Duck every few hours, and have not seen or heard anything of her. In the meantime, I've cleaned the bathroom and washed the bathroom floor on a day when, really, I should have been lying on my bed naked, with a fan playing carelessly upon my supine body. The lack of nakedness and absence of my friend fan did not improve my mood.
I want a treat. More specifically, I want something cold, and an alcoholic beverage is sounding pretty good right now. We don't drink alcohol much, so there's not much in the house. We are also out of ice.
I go to the freezer, where I find a giant bag of no-name frozen fruit, kept in the freezer for emergencies just like this one: peach slices, strawberries, melon balls, pineapple chunks, whole grapes. I bring it inside and fill a martini glass with frozen fruit chunks. The only alcohol we have in quantity is dry vermouth, which we use for cooking, and kirsch (cherry brandy), which I like to add to fruit desserts. I fill the gaps left by the fruit in the martini glass with vermouth and then spike the drink with kirsch. It's not bad. Not bad at all. ... By the time I've had two of them, it's starting to be the best drink I've ever had. (Even though I think it would probably be a lot better with stone-cold vodka or gin.)
And dissolve: I hear Tim say, "There's a duck on the pond. It's your duck." (Obviously he's not yet clear on his relationship to our ducks.) I run to the window, grabbing the binoculars on the way. Yes, it's Duck. She's on the pond, looking quite content. I'm sure she misses her friends, and she's at risk of ending up as some coyote's lunch, but at least for now she seems healthy, and she is living in Duck Heaven, with the biggest wading pool ever and all the food she can eat.
Come to think of it, maybe the Florita should be made with Cold Duck.
Duck, shortly before she took off.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Old-Fashioned Strawberry Shortcake
- Biscuits made with extra sugar.
- Strawberries. I slice them and add a quarter cup of sugar per pint. At our local church, most of them are mashed (I'm not sure whether sugar is added), a few are sliced, and some are left whole with the green tops on. This makes for a very attractive presentation.
- Whipped cream. I usually add some powdered sugar to the cream as I'm beating it.
- 2 cups all-purpose flour
- 2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
- 3/4 teaspoon salt
- 1 tablespoon sugar
- 5-6 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cut into pieces
- 3/4 cup half and half
Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Whisk flour, baking powder, salt, and sugar together in a large bowl. Cut in butter. Add half and half. Mix until most of the dry ingredients are moist. Knead dough 5-10 times. Roll dough about 3/4 inch thick and cut into squares or rounds. Place on a large ungreased baking sheet, about an inch apart. Bake 10-12 minutes until biscuits are golden brown.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
The Many Faces of Rice 'n' Beans
The other night was one of my CH&F nights, and I was planning to make black beans with turkey and rice from Jane Brody's Good Food Gourmet cookbook. When I was about a third of the way into it, however, I realized that I was out of chile, which meant that I couldn't make the Mexican-inspired dish Brody had in mind. So I made some quick substitutions and ended up, instead, with a Thai-inspired curry.
Later it struck me that there is probably a universal formula for rice and beans, which you can easily customize to use ingredients you have on hand. The basic formula is something like this:
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1/2 pound meat or tofu
1 cup chopped onion
At least 1 cup chopped vegetables
At least 1 teaspoon chopped garlic, ginger, or a combination of the two
Seasoning (chile, curry, ...)
Salt in some form (can be a very salty ingredient such as soy sauce or Parmesan cheese)
1 cup tasty liquid (tomato sauce, coconut milk, stock, ...)
2-3 cups cooked beans
3 cups cooked rice
Heat the oil, then cook the meat or brown the tofu. Add the onion, garlic/ginger, and vegetables and sautee them until they're soft. Add the tasty liquid and the beans, stir it all up, and simmer it for 20 minutes. Serve over rice.
Jane Brody's version of this recipe calls for:
- Meat portion: ground turkey
- Vegetable portion: sweet green pepper
- Garlic/ginger: garlic only
- Spices: 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice, 1 tablespoon Dijon-style mustard, 1 teaspoon chile powder
- Salt: reduced-sodium soy sauce
- Tasty liquid: tomato sauce
- Beans: black beans
However, a vegetarian, Thai-inspired version of the same recipe could be as follows:
- Meat portion: tofu
- Vegetable portion: frozen "Thai vegetable" mix
- Garlic/ginger: ginger only or a combination of garlic and ginger
- Spices: curry, turmeric, chile, and lemongrass or lemon juice
- Salt: regular salt
- Tasty liquid: coconut milk
- Beans: chickpeas
If you keep pre-made Thai cooking sauces in the pantry, as I do, you could replace the spices, salt, and tasty liquid with a pre-made sauce. This makes the dish more expensive to make but is handy in an emergency. For instance, when I realized that I didn't have the chile called for in Brody's recipe, I had already cooked the turkey, green pepper, onion, and garlic. However, I replaced her spices and tomato sauce with a couple of cans of Thai curry sauce. Then, instead of the black beans called for in the original recipe, I used canned chickpeas, which I also keep on hand for emergencies. It turns out that chickpeas simmered in coconut milk are delicious!
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Perfect No-Koan Brown Rice
So I'm reluctant to acquire kitchen appliances. Yet, even so, of the relatively small number of kitchen appliances I do own, I notice that there are only a couple I use frequently. Both of them are shown in the photo; I don't think it's an accident that they're both small enough to fit on my kitchen counter. The small food processor with the dark blue base (at the back of the photo) lives on the counter full time and gets the most use. Even though it will process only about a cup at a time, I often use it in preference to getting out the large, heavy food processor I inherited from my mother or even the immersion blender I bought at a second-hand store. Let's face it: The tools we are most likely to use are those that are right in front of us.
The appliance I use next most often is the small rice cooker in the foreground of the photo. It doesn't live on the counter, but being lightweight it is very easy to retrieve from storage. I think this encourages me to use it more often than I would if it were large and/or heavy. Also, being small, it doesn't take up much room on the counter. So I can set it up and put it to work without having to give up a lot of counter space. The take-home message here: When buying small appliances, the smaller the better. Not only are tiny appliances cheaper, but you're more likely to use them.
Even if the rice cooker were bigger, however, I would probably still use it a lot. We eat a lot of brown rice, and although it's certainly possible to make brown rice in an ordinary pot, it's a lot easier to do it in a small rice cooker such as this one. This is because a rice cooker solves a problem that has long plagued people who cook rice: I call it the brown rice koan. Namely, for the rice to cook properly, you need to keep the lid on the pot. However, to check to see whether the rice is done, most people need to take the lid off the pot. Hence the koan: How to take the lid off the pot while not taking the lid off the pot?
Of course, if you've been cooking brown rice with an ordinary pot for a while, you know the answer to this koan. The trick is to use your sense of smell. When the rice is done, it starts to toast, and if you're right there next to the pot you can smell it before it starts to burn. Trouble is, you have to hang around the pot waiting for the toasting smell to happen. If you get distracted and don't notice it soon enough, burned rice. Good spiritual training, maybe, but not such good eating.
A rice cooker removes the koan from rice cooking. Put the ingredients in, put the lid on, turn it on, and wait for it to turn itself off. (Mine actually turns itself to "warm," which is convenient but not essential.) When it turns itself off, the rice is finished. Meanwhile, you do not have to hang around, sniffing the air over the pot like a rice-obsessed hound.
A small rice cooker like the one pictured costs very little. I think ours cost about $15, maybe less. It makes four cups of rice, which is enough for two meals for two people. This cooker doesn't do a good job on smaller amounts of rice, so we usually make four cups and save the leftovers. I often have them for breakfast.
Here is a great recipe for tasty brown rice made in the rice cooker:
Two cups Basmati brown rice. (Basmati rice has a wonderful smell when cooking.)
Four cups fat-free chicken broth. (Vegetarians use vegetable broth.)
Place both in rice cooker. Put lid on rice cooker. Leave until rice cooker turns itself off, which usually takes about an hour.
Monday, April 02, 2007
"Be Yourself" Spaghetti Squash Casserole
The big day arrived, my accomplishment was placed on the table along with everyone else's offerings, and ... mine was barely touched. I ended up coming home with a boatload of artery-clogging goodness, which I had to eat for a week.
Subsequent efforts to impress the community with my culinary prowess also did not fare well. I reached my nadir when the anticipated call came and I was asked to bring ... milk.
Flash forward: I had joined the board of directors of the local recreation association, which hosts community potluck suppers. When you attend, you're expected to bring something to share. For a while I relied on my pumpkin pie cheesecake : It's hard to go wrong with several pounds of eggs, cream, sugar, and cheese. But cheesecake is hard to make. So one night I got lazy: I decided to forget about trying to impress anyone; instead, I figured, I'd make something I could eat (both with enjoyment and without sending myself to a premature grave). That way, when nobody touched it, at least I wouldn't mind bringing it home.
What happened next was yet another example of Flora's Law, which states that "You can have anything you don't want anymore." The dish was a hit. Well, OK, maybe not a hit, but it was received better than anything else I've made. Several people liked it enough to ask for the recipe. It's even going to be included in the "Social Supper Favourites" column in the April recreation association newsletter. (Full disclosure: I am one of the editors of the recreation association newsletter. But when I said I was going to put this recipe in the newsletter, nobody complained.)
So here it is, straight from the MSRA News to you:
Spaghetti Squash Casserole
This tasty vegetarian dish is adapted from one in Natural Health, Natural Medicine by Andrew Weil, M.D.
Take a whole spaghetti squash and poke it a few times with a knife to allow steam to escape. Bake in a low oven until it's soft to the touch. Allow it to cool.
Meanwhile, slice 2 large carrots, a large onion, 2 stalks of celery, and a green pepper. Heat about 2 tablespoonfuls of olive oil in a skillet and cook the carrots and onion over medium-high heat for about 5 minutes. Stir frequently to prevent sticking. Add the celery and green pepper with some red pepper flakes and salt (if desired), then cook about 10 minutes, continuing to stir. When vegetables are tender, add a large can of crushed tomatoes, 2-5 cloves chopped garlic, and basil and oregano to taste. Simmer for 15 minutes.
When the squash is cool enough, discard the seeds and scoop out the remaining contents. Mix the cooked squash with the other vegetables and put half in the bottom of a large baking dish. Top this without about a cup of shredded part-skim mozzarella and 1/4 cup grated Parmesan. Add the remaining vegetables and top with another cup of mozzarella and 1/4 cup of Parmesan. Bake in a 350 degree oven about 30 minutes or until the cheese is slightly brown. Let it rest 5-10 minutes before serving.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
A Light Lunch to Herald Spring
We had a particularly good carrot crop last summer, not only abundant but also exceptionally flavorful, so carrot soup was at the top of my list of things to make. To go with the soup, I wanted bread. To go with the bread I wanted some sort of spread, and I wanted the spread to be a color that would look good with the color of carrots. This called for spinach, the only dark green vegetable that I still have a lot of in the freezer.
Turning to one of my favorite cookbooks, the notorious 1997 edition of The Joy of Cooking (which is not to be confused with any other edition of Joy), I chose recipes for Carrot-Ginger-Orange Soup and Spinach-Yogurt Spread, which I then adapted to suit the ingredients that happen to be available to me.
The day before my friend was due to arrive, I prepared the spinach-yogurt spread as follows:
1. Take two coffee filters and put them in a sieve, then set the sieve in a bowl. Into each of the coffee filters place a cup of fat-free plain yogurt, then leave this to drain for several hours. (Draining as much liquid as possible off yogurt gives it a consistency more like cheese than like yogurt. In fact, some people refer to drained yogurt as 'yogurt cheese.')
2. Meanwhile, thaw about 10 ounces of frozen spinach.
3. When the spinach is thawed, use the food processor to mince a couple of peeled shallots. (The original recipe calls for green onions and garlic, but I prefer shallots and I usually have them around because they're easy to grow.)
4. To the minced shallots add the spinach, the drained yogurt, 2 T grated Parmesan cheese, 2 T sour cream, 1/8 tsp ground nutmeg, and some salt. Blend all this until smooth, transfer to a storage container, and place in the refrigerator overnight.
Also on the day before my friend was due to arrive, I got the carrot soup started as follows:
1. Thaw about a pound and a half of frozen carrots. (You could also clean and chop the same quantity of fresh carrots.)
2. When the carrots are thawed, chop a medium onion and prepare 1 T peeled fresh ginger.
3. In a soup pot, melt 1 T of butter in 1/4 cup chicken stock.
4. Cook the onion and ginger, along with 1/2 tsp curry powder, in the butter and chicken stock until the onion is tender.
4. Add 4 more cups of chicken stock and the carrots to the soup pot.
5. Chop about 4 clementines (enough to make one cup) and add them to the soup pot. (The original recipe called for fresh orange juice, but clementines are abundant this time of year and delicious, so why not use them?)
6. Simmer until the contents are warm and the carrots are soft. Because my carrots had been lightly cooked before being frozen, I didn't have to simmer the soup for long. If you started with fresh carrots, you'd probably have to simmer it for 15 or 20 minutes.
7. When the carrots are tender, turn off the heat under the pot and let the soup cool.
8. Once the soup is cool, transfer the soup to the food processor for blending.
9. Transfer the blended mixture to a storage container and put it in the refrigerator.
The next day, when my friend arrived for lunch, the spinach-yogurt spread was already made. To go with it, cut slices of a good multi-grain bread (I bought mine from a bakery), brush them on both sides with a good olive oil, and toast them on both sides under your oven broiler.
To finish the carrot soup, return the carrot mixture to the soup pot, heat it, and add 1/2 cup heavy cream and some salt.
Served on white china, the orange carrot soup and the green spinach spread were very pretty together; the colors made me feel that spring was on its way. I wish I had remembered to take a picture, but by that time I was busy enjoying the company of my friend!
PS: This was such a light lunch that I thought we were entitled to a sumptuous dessert. My local grocery store sells excellent cheesecakes in small sizes (which means less leftover cheesecake, which means less temptation for ME), and I'd much rather spend time with friends than make myself crazy in the kitchen, so you can guess what the dessert was. (Think cheesecake, think chocolate.)
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Blueberry Nut Bread
1 cup whole-wheat flour
1 cup all-purpose flour ("whole white" flour works too, but produces a heavier bread)
1 cup sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons butter or margarine, melted (I have also used canola oil)
1 egg, beaten
1/4 cup frozen orange juice concentrate plus 3/4 cup water, heated to almost boiling
1 cup (more if you're a big berry fan) of fresh or frozen berries (the recipe calls for blueberries but I often use a frozen mix of blueberries, raspberries, and blackberries)
3/4 cup chopped nuts (the recipe calls for pecans but walnuts would work too)
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees
2. Combine both flours, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.
3. Add the butter or margarine, beaten egg, and warm orange juice to the flour mixture, stirring the ingredients to combine them. Don't overstir, as this will make the bread heavier.
4. Stir in the berries and nuts.
5. Transfer the batter to a greased 9 x 5 inch loaf pan.
6. Place pan in hot oven and bake for 50 to 60 minutes or until a knife or other tester inserted into the center of the loaf comes out clean.