Gluten-Free Goddess Recipes

Got Zukes Galore? Sharing a favorite summer recipe here on Gluten-Free Goddess-- a cinnamon laced tea bread made with garden fresh zucchini. You'll love it. And so will everyone else. I also jotted down some batter and baking tips for ya. See below. GFG Tips on gluten-free bread baking: Here's my all-time favorite baking pan for gluten-free breads. It's a lovely glazed ceramic pan that creates steady, even heating for gluten-free batters. In other words, it's as foolproof as you can get. Find it here at Amazon:  Good Cook 9-Inch Ceramic Loaf Pan . Make sure your batter isn't cold when you put it into the oven. If you keep your flours in the fridge, for instance, this will cool down your batter quite a bit. If you find your batter is cooler than room temperature, allow the batter to rest in the pan near the pre-heating stove and let it come to room temperature before you place the bread pan in the oven to bake (I also do this with cakes sometimes). The first time

Blueberry Muffin Mornings Blanched almond flour and blueberries make the perfect little gluten-free bite for a spring breakfast. Or, for that matter, brunch. Or afternoon tea. Or- you name it. For right now, though, I'm thinking a blueberry muffin morning might be the perfect start to my day. The recipe here is vegan- but if you prefer using eggs, darling, beaten eggs will work perfectly well in this favorite recipe (just use fresh free-range eggs in place of the egg replacer). Stay true blue this week, everyone- be safe out there. Karina xox

Light + Lemony Gluten-Free Pasta for Spring with Grilled Asparagus To speak about something as prosaic as pasta salad seems downright ho-hum. I mean. It's just a pasta salad. It's something I tossed together with stuff I had on hand. I hadn't planned on it. I didn't spend days contemplating the ins and outs and quirks of gluten-free penne. In fact, if I'm being unabashedly honest here I rarely think about food at all. Until I'm hungry. Until those familiar, nagging pangs begin gnawing their pesky little way into my consciousness, distracting me from my preferred, visual nomenclature- which rarely includes anything edible. I daydream about painting in the Rockies, the plight of bees, and walking low tide on Brewster Flats. I notice the temperature of light and the curve of negative space against a jar of old spoons. I think about expectations and illusions and perceptions. I ponder where my soul is taking me, tugging at me to pay attention to my life

Baking a batch of fresh blueberry muffins is one of my favorite simple pleasures.  I do it early, before the summer day turns sultry and my body slows to a liquid ballet of movement designed to conserve every last salty drop of intention and energy my creaky, vanilla lotioned body can muster. I rise and bake to the rosy morning sun, stirring my batter half asleep, sipping hot coffee. A northern mockingbird sings his deceit outside the kitchen window. He is remarkable in his uncanny repertoire, a gifted mimic, silhouetted high against a summer-blue sky, perched on the tallest utility pole. I've been reading this week. Finding books a provocative companion. Words that illuminate and poke. Shared stories that send shivers of recognition, trigger anger, or tug one's soul (kicking and whining) into that impossible place- that place where you don't want to go. The stuff that scares you. Because it might be true. Reading a book at twenty about mothers and daughte

I Got the Blueberry Blues It's no news to you, Darling, that summer is officially here (albeit Covid infused, chaotic, and unsettling), and the longest day of the calendar year has come and gone (Summer Solstice, we miss you already). June is now a memory.  And blueberries are making their final post solstice appearance in the northern states.  Blueberry season is far too brief.  As the Bard of Avon once penned, S ummer's lease hath all too short a date . So if you must skip to the recipe- do so now--  who am I to hold you back, to deny you even one more minute of partaking in this modest indulgence?  But I confess, I am in a waxing mood today. And feeling lost in my meanderings (aka Covid19 isolation month #5). Painfully, deeply aware of the World outside and Her massive, collective changes and pain.  Listening.  Learning.  Supporting.  Donating.  Wearing a mask in a daily walk around the neighborhood. Practicing civic duty by socially distancing- even from my family. Wh

Whole Grain Gluten-Free Muffins- with Love I've been thinking about muffins. And not just any ordinary, ho-hum, run-of-the-mill, starchy, gluten-free muffins. Nope. A tender, whole grain, lower sugar, vanilla scented muffin that bursts with fresh strawberry flavor. Warm from the oven, these pleasantly grainy breakfast treats are pull-apart soft with juicy bites of strawberry. Sweet- but not too sweet. I used pure maple syrup for the primary sweetener, and a mere two tablespoons of organic brown sugar. And now for the interesting part. I also experimented with no xanthan gum. I used to rely on xanthan gum to give my gluten-free batter and dough the stretchability factor- a trait removed when I booted gluten from my kitchen and wished it vaya con dios .  But here's the thing. Shunning gluten is a complicated issue. Gluten imparts a flexibility to batter and dough, and baking without it can lead you to crumbly, gritty ruin if you're not careful. You're giving up

Scones for a blueberry day. Blueberries and summer. I cannot imagine one without the other. It is virtually impossible. Beyond my control. The same way a certain scent, caught unexpectedly in passing, can- in a single heartbeat- transport you to another time and place. Scents and tastes and memories link and embed themselves deep in the mushy hardware of our brain, micro-threading bits of life experience into electrical impulses that spark and conjure images and emotions that rival the blinking hot concept of time travel. Sun warmed wild mint, for instance, jolts me into my six year old body faster than you can wish for blueberry pancakes, tugging me into a swirl of loneliness and boredom I can almost taste, the heat and dust of a summer afternoon prowling a parking lot, looking for a tiny piece of shade apart from the bees. In a perfect world I would have been blueberry picking, roused from innocent rumpled sleep before first light by a beloved grandmother or a tender hearted

Baking Without Xanthan Gum, I Am. When I first set foot on this lonely gluten-free road (it was 2001, remember, pre-gluten-free boon; there was nary a gluten-free bagel or wheat-free blueberry muffin in sight), I wrestled with converting my beloved tried and true wheat flour recipes, gamely baking and tossing too many gluten-free hockey pucks and brick loaves to count. Until I discovered xanthan gum- the weirdo secret ingredient that gave gluten-free batter and dough a hint of that elusive stretchy tenderness that gluten once gifted. Xanthan gum was a find. And it has been a nifty little problem solver for many years. Until it wasn't. After a decade or so of cooking, baking, and eating strictly gluten-free I began to feel- shall we say- less than wonderful after eating something with xanthan gum (or guar gum, or locust bean gum, or carrageenan). Ingredients my grandmother never heard of. Ingredients I never used to eat. Or bake with. I had a gluten-free shakabuk

A Summer Classic: Blueberry Crisp We had a sudden hankering. You know how it is. A craving hits that will not be denied. Insistent. Growling. Desire with an uppercase D. So I'm digging into the archives. June is here. And you start imagining fresh, juicy blueberries, nestled beneath a perfectly golden crumble of a crust, warm, the deepest purple, bubbling as you slide it- ever so gently- out of the oven and onto a cooling rack to rest and settle until you can't stand it a minute longer, breathing in the cinnamon laced aroma of a summer dessert classic. The forever glorious blueberry crisp. And this one's gluten-free. And dairy-free. No xanthan gum either- a bonus. So darling. Don't wait. Blueberry season is short and sweet. Peace + Love + Justice, Karina xox

Let. Us. Eat. Cake. M husband's latest birthday marked another spin around the wheel of time. And yes, I baked a cake. And as I stirred the batter and scooped it into cake pans, I thought about the other cakes I have baked for him. The chocolate cake in our first year of marriage. Children beneath our roof. Blue balloons and candles. The newness of each others' dreams. The shine of our ideas. The belief in what was possible. We've shared twenty-eight of his birthdays now. And the single constant through these twenty-eight years is change. Change has woven its intricate design deep inside our marriage, our thirteen different living spaces in seven different states, our evolving work as artists and writers, our sons' own ever-changing lives. There isn't a piece of our life together that has not been burnished by change. I asked my husband what he felt about this birthday, if anything. He said at first he didn't feel anything about it. That is was just a