With the heat wave in Europe, I’ve been struggling to stay cool. Eating a lot of salad and not using the stove during the day is one solution. Adapting recipes so they involve no cooking… More
Getting the veggie option in Chernobyl
Yes, you can get a vegetarian lunch on the Chernobyl tour. And yes, it might seem strange to be asking for a meat-free meal while you’re visiting a place that is well-known for its high radiation levels. Who has time to worry about health in a radiation zone? But it’s been more than 30 years since the nuclear reactor disaster there, and a few adventurous companies offer guided tours of the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone in Ukraine.
I went with chernobyl-tour.com, and if you’re looking for an English-speaking tour, I would highly recommend them. The guides were super knowledgeable and very nice. Despite there being about 50 people on the tour, it never felt too big, as the guides were very patient with explaining everything and answering questions. They didn’t have enough Geiger counters for everyone, but as we got closer to the reactor itself, I realized I didn’t mind not having one. Everyone else’s Geiger counters kept going off, like a weird version of a cell phone.
And yes, it’s safe. They screen people quite thoroughly leaving the area— there are three radiation checkpoints one has to pass on your way out. One unfortunate woman in our group had to leave her shoes behind after she set off the detector.
The entire area around the Chernobyl reactor, for a 30 kilometer radius, is called the Exclusion Zone. Within the Exclusion Zone is the 10-kilometer zone, which includes the remains of the reactor. However, in the outer zone are the remains of several small villages.
Our first stop is the village of Zalissya, just inside the Exclusion Zone. This was the beginning of the surreal: a deserted, overgrown village, but near a highway with cars driving by. While few people live in the Exclusion Zone, there were a few stubborn holdouts who refused to leave. Also, there are still people who work in the area, though they generally don’t live there. The village we went to is deserted, however, and very haunting. Here, you could clearly see the ordinary stuff that people left behind– clothes, books– that made the place seem very melancholy.
I hadn’t realized that the village of Chernobyl itself still had people living in it. It doesn’t look that bustling, but there’s still a few cars on the roads and a post office— one that has a sign giving the daily radiation reading. Honestly, though, there are more empty buildings than occupied ones, and for some reason, the village was exempt from the de-USSR’ing of the Ukraine. Unlike the rest of the country, which yanked down its Lenin statues, hammer and sickles and renamed all their streets back to Ukrainian names.
Next was the mostly-buried village of Kopachi. As most of the structures were made out of wood, and were radioactive, the village was mostly torn down— except for a kindergarten full of abandoned toys.
Next stop is this enormous, bizarre metal structure: the DUGA radar, a giant contraption built to track missiles and communicate. It was huge, and a little strange. Pictures don’t do this thing justice, as it’s too big to be photographed properly.
Before we went to Pripyat was a canteen style lunch– all food brought in from off-site, of course. The veggie option is pretty simple: potato and cabbage soup, rice and beans, shredded carrot and cabbage salad, with sliced apples and oranges for dessert. I would recommend the plain juice over the compote, as my compote tasted funny (and I noticed a few other people sniffing their glasses.)
Finally, we went to the town of Pripyat, which is where the now-iconic photos of abandoned buildings are taken. Home to almost 50,000 before the accident, it was evacuated shortly after and has not been lived in since.
It’s incredible, eerie, and more than a little haunting. Abandoned buildings are one thing— I’ve seen plenty of those in Detroit. Even the ghost towns of the southwest don’t quite compare to how recent this is. How abrupt. Clothes are left strewn on floors, writing in chalk not erased from the school chalkboards. A vending machine still has a glass cup, waiting for the next person to come along and order a drink.
The friend I was traveling with, who’s Polish, remembers being called out of class and given some sort of medicine that was supposed to help with radiation. I don’t have any concrete memories of Chernobyl— I was really young when it happened— but I do remember, vaguely, that the name evoked a sense of dread. Something bad was happening on the other side of the world. Also, the Chernobyl disaster and the Challenger explosion are inexplicably linked in my mind. I do remember being shown the Challanger launch— I must have been in preschool or kindergarten— and when the teachers realized what was happening, hurriedly switching the TV off.
I think that’s why so many people are fascinated by it: here is where we came very close to wiping ourselves out. With so many decades between the disaster and now, I think it’s easier to both realize how catastrophic it could have been, yet how distant it’s become in our memory. Time has become something like the concrete used to insulate the ruined reactor.
Tucked away in the back of our imaginations is the unused ferris wheel of Pripyat’s amusement park.
What was far more poignant about Pripyat was how familiar, yet how ruined and overgrown, it was. The main square was hopelessly overgrown with trees and some of the school buildings had collapsed. But underneath the desolation and faded, peeling paint was the remains of a once-normal town.
Interestingly, some people have snuck back into Chernobyl to dot it with modern graffiti. The wildlife, such as the deer and bears, seemed quite fitting.
The absolute final stop was the Sarcophagus and the newly-built “Arch” over the ruined reactor. Our guides told us we had to keep our distance, and honestly, she didn’t have to tell us twice.
Which is probably why it still haunts us: it’s not full of three-headed animals, or devoid of songbirds, or full of poisonous green gas. It’s just a town that was abandoned for the scariest of reasons.
Leaving the Exclusion Zone is a memorial statue to the firefighters and liquidators who gave their lives trying to secure the radioactive material.
Our guides showed us a video about the history of the disaster, and the first half we watched on the way in: the dramatic explosion, the radioactive cloud discovered drifting over Europe by Sweden, the frantic scrambling of Soviet politicians to both explain and cover up what had happened. The second half we watched was far more tragic, as it detailed the efforts to secure the reactor and stop the spread of radiation. There was a sad theme of older men, the few who had outlived their colleagues, explaining how they had helped stop the disaster: the firefighters, the miners tunnelling under the reactor, the countless engineers. They all repeated the same idea: that they’d be doing their duty, they had been doing what needed to be done.
Leaving the Exclusion Zone was an egg statue, Ovum II. It’s full of letters from around the world, it’s designed to outlast the reactor, and symbolizes how life will go on. As we went to Chernobyl on Easter, it seemed particularly fitting.
Pączki, vegan or gluten-free
Problem: it’s almost Pączki Day, but you have a dietary restriction. Solution: hit up one of the many vegan or gluten-free bakeries in the metro Detroit area.
For gluten-free: try Celiac Specialties in Rochester. The pączki come frozen, but warm up nicely.
For vegan, try MI Little Sweet Tooth in Clinton Township.
Happy Pączki Day! Did I miss a bakery that supplies vegan or gluten-free pączkis?
Golden beet soup with lemongrass
“Do you want anything from the store?” Such a simple question, but when asked this with a bit of jet lag, I have a hard time answering.
When I return to the U.S. from Poland, I’m always dazzled by the sheer size and variety of produce and products in American grocery stores. Particularly in high-end places, such as Plum Market, Whole Foods and Sprouts Market, the volume of choices is pretty overwhelming.
Which is why I was drawn to these cool-looking beets: they’re both at once exotic and comforting, as they remind me of barszcz and beetroot salad, both popular dishes in Wroclaw.
Golden beets are similar in flavor to red beets, but they’re not as earthy, and so have a slightly richer, smoother flavor. While their juice is really vibrant, it doesn’t stain everything pink— bonus! For seasoning, I decided against using apple cider or dill, and went with lemongrass.
Roasting the beets before adding them to the soup is the best way to go, in my opinion. Beets are dense, tough root veggies, and to get them soft enough to eat, you either need to boil them or roast them. Boiling makes them watery, while roasting them retains their flavor and consistency.
I think the next time, I would add carrots to this soup— they would pair well with the sweet, slightly earth, flavor of beets.
Ingredients
2-3 large golden beets, diced
1 medium onion, minced
5-6 cups of vegetable broth
1 tablespoon lemongrass seasoning
olive oil
salt and pepper, to taste
- Preheat the oven to 350 F (175 C.)
- While the oven is preheating, scrub the beets and then wrap then in tinfoil.
- Roast the beets for 45 minutes to an hour, until tender.
- Let the beets cool, then peel the beets.
- Saute the onion in olive oil.
- When the onion is translucent, add the vegetable broth and bring to a boil. Add the lemongrass as well.
- When the broth is boiling, add the diced beets, reduce the heat and simmer on low until the beets are soft.
- Add some salt and pepper, and serve.
Golden beet soup with Rumi’s gluten-free challah bread. Golden beet Soup
2-3 large golden beets, diced
1 medium onion, minced
5-6 cups of vegetable broth
1 tablespoon lemongrass seasoning
olive oil
salt and pepper, to taste
Preheat the oven to 350 F (175 C.) While the oven is preheating, scrub the beets and then wrap then in tinfoil. Roast the beets for 45 minutes to an hour, until tender. Let the beets cool, then peel the beets. Saute the onion in olive oil. When the onion is translucent, add the vegetable broth and bring to a boil. Add the lemongrass as well. When the broth is boiling, add the diced beets, reduce the heat and simmer on low until the beets are soft. Add some salt and pepper, and serve.
A view of the U.S., from overseas
It’s been a harrowing week in U.S. politics. My Facebook news feed is full of worried posts from my Muslim friends, angry posts from U.S. voters, and confused posts from my friends in Europe. And I know that by the time I write this, it’ll be out of date, a new Tweet or executive order or protest happening somewhere.
Food blogs usually aren’t political— we write about recipes and restaurants, not about farm subsidies, food stamps or breakfast programs in public schools. But I’m an immigrant here in Poland, and I’m all too aware of political issues, far-right politicians and racism. Heck, Poland’s current political party, Law and Justice, is conservative, nationalistic, and hostile to immigrants.
Of course, I don’t deal with the worst of racism in Poland. I can “pass.” I have vaguely European-ish features, and more to the point, I’m a short woman. My Indian friends have not been as lucky, and I’ve seen a number of drunks harassing Indian men. Also, I’ve had Syrian students, who talk, in hushed tones, about navigating in an often hostile society. And Poland has its own hate crimes— a molotov cocktail was thrown through the window of a pizza shop owned by an Egyptian recently. That pizza place is on the same block as my apartment.
Between Brexit and a number of other EU countries dealing with the rise of far-right parties— in France, in Austria, even in the Netherlands— I’m getting worried. With the far-right comes racism. Since I’ve worked in a few different countries, I can’t easily ignore how the United State’s policies affect the world. While I wasn’t a huge fan of either Obama or Clinton, I do consider myself liberal.
Which is part of the reason I organized a Women’s March in Krakow on January 21. As I couldn’t protest in Washington, this seemed like the next best thing.
The turnout was great— about 100 people, half Americans. And I was happy to give both Americans traveling and living in Poland a chance to make their voices heard.
While I still have mixed feelings on the impact of the march itself, it was really energizing to see so many people come together. It gave me hope to get through the next four years. Unfortunately, it’s hard to ignore the parallels to Trump’s policies on Muslim immigrants and Europe’s own history with anti-semitism.
Next week, I promise, I’ll just talk about food, sans politics!
Year in review: mushroom hunting, beet soup, and a trip to Ukraine
I get torn about New Year’s Resolutions. On one hand, it’s a convenient spot to stop and reflect on things, but on the other, there’s a lot of pressure to suddenly reform and change yourself for the better. While giving up bad habits is a positive thing, there’s no particular reason why you gotta do it in January. Our Gregorian calendar is an easy but arbitrary way to keep track of time. Why not have a fresh start in July, or in the middle of March? Which is why I feel more like reflecting on the past year— like that Tori Amos song, it’s been a pretty good year.
Despite 2016 being terrible for celebrity deaths, I feel like this past year was a great one for me, personally. I feel a lot more settled, both in terms of my job and to living in Poland. And my blog reflects this: Most of my blog posts are about Polish recipes, and a little bit of traveling (back to my home in Michigan, and to Ukraine.)
Without further adieu, these are my favorite posts from the past year:
Mushroom hunting in Poland
An annual autumn tradition, I was lucky to have a friend who showed me which mushrooms are delicious— and which ones to avoid. While I can always buy a bag of my favorite wild mushrooms in the market Hala Targowa in town, there’s nothing quite like spending a fall morning traipsing around in the woods.
Ukraine’s Lviv
An unexpectedly pretty city, this was my birthday present to myself. In addition to lovely museums and a famous cemetery, there was also a great vegetarian restaurant, Green, with an attentive staff and delicious food.
Baking: pumpkin pie
This was also the year I rediscovering American dishes. It started when my flatmate asked me if I could bake a pumpkin pie. I hadn’t before, but it turned out to be very easy. The tricky bit is cutting a pumpkin in half, particularly if it’s a burly one. Pumpkin spice may have spread to Europe, thanks to Starbucks, but few people here had tried real pumpkin pie before— and I was happy to be the one to introduce it to them!
Discovering the joys of beets
I’d never cooked with beets before, and I don’t know why I waited so long. Beets are delicious, nutritious, and a very pretty vegetable. Warning: you do have to be careful, as beet juice will dye everything: your hands, your cat, your kitchen rugs. Chłodnik and barszcz Ukrainski are great soups for summer and winter, respectively.
Here’s to a great New Year! Do you have any resolutions, or are you awesome enough already? 😉
Gluten-free pumpkin pie, from scratch
I didn’t start out to make from-scratch pumpkin pie— it was an accident of being unable to find canned pumpkin in Poland. However, as circumstances go, it’s one I’m happy to deal with. Interestingly, Polish doesn’t have a separate word for pumpkin (which is a type of squash.) When you buy pumpkins and squash, they’re all the price. Not surprising that Polish wouldn’t have a specific word for this orange veggie, as all gourds come from the Americas, and not Europe. There also isn’t a word for pumpkin pie, as pie doesn’t really have an exact equivalent. Cake is too full of flour; tort is too fancy. The best I could come up with is “ciasto dyniowe” which translates to “pumpkin cake.”
The most difficult part of making pumpkin pie from scratch is cutting the pumpkin in half. And by “cutting,” I mean “hacking slowly and carefully while muttering swear words under your breath.” Pumpkins aren’t known for being small, dainty vegetables. Your best best: use a small but sharp knife, and be careful. Carefully, stab the knife into the side of the pumpkin, and slowly work the knife around the circumference of the pumpkin. Think more of sawing and less of slicing.
Once you’ve cut the pumpkin in half, use a sturdy spoon to scoop out the seeds (save ’em if you want to roast them later.) Roast the pumpkin for about 45 minutes at 350 F/ 157 C. Exact roasting time will depend on how thick the pumpkin is.
Once the pumpkin is completely roasted and a fork goes in easily, let the pumpkin cool. The next step will be adding eggs, a splash of cream and, of course, your spices.
For simplicity’s sake, I’m going to explain how to make the filling, then the crust. Generally, I make the crust dough first, refrigerate it; then as the dough is in the fridge, I get the pumpkin filling ready.
One note about baking gluten-free: you can use a store-bought blend, or the one I have listed. But you want to be sure to use cold butter when making the dough, and not to mix the butter too much— you want little bits of butter in the flour. When the crust is baking, the water in those small pieces of butter will evaporate, leaving behind tiny air pockets and giving you flaky pie crust. This step is extra important when working with gluten-free flour, which can be difficult to bake with.
Ingredients
For the crust:
1/2 cup tapioca flour
3/4 cup millet flour
1/4 cup amaranth OR sorgrum flour
1/2 cup potato starch
1/2 cup rice flour
1 teaspoon of xanthum gum
110 grams / 1 stick of butter, cold
2 eggs
1/8 teaspoon salt (optional)
- Measure all the flours out and add to a mixing bowl. Add the xanthum gum and salt as well.
- Sift all the different flours together so they are completely mixed (you may need to use two mixing bowls and a funnel to do this properly.)
- Add the eggs and blend thoroughly.
- Now for the fun part: add the cold butter. I use a heavy wooden spoon to help mix things. Be careful not to blend the butter and flour too much— you still want to be able to see small bits of butter in your dough.
- Once the butter and flour have been combined, form into a ball and refrigerate for two hours.
- When you have the pie filling ready, slowly and carefully roll out the dough into a round, flat shape. To keep everything from sticking, I use a combination of sprinkles of rice flour and parchment paper. (The parchment paper makes it especially easy to transfer the rolled crust dough into the glass dish.)
- Once you’ve rolled out the dough to about 3/4 a centimeter thick, transfer it to the round baking dish. Pour in the pie filling, smooth out, and bake at 250 F / 120 C for 15 minutes, then turn down the heat and bake at 150 F / 70 C for 45 minutes or until done.
For the filling:
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
2 cups of pureed pumpkin
2 eggs
1/2 cup dark brown sugar
1/3 white sugar
tablespoon of cream
- Cut the pumpkin in half and scoop out the seeds.
- Bake the pumpkin for 45 minutes at 350 F/ 157 C.
- Let the pumpkin cool, then scoop out of the shell.
- Add the pumpkin, spices, sugar, eggs and cream and blend with hand blender until completely smooth and free from lumps or stringiness. (You may need to adjust the amount of cream you add.)
- When the pumpkin filling is ready, add to the crust and follow the directions above for baking.
Gluten-free pumpkin pie, from scratch
Ingredients
Ingredients
For the crust:
1/2 cup tapioca flour
3/4 cup millet flour
1/4 cup amaranth OR sorgrum flour
1/2 cup potato starch
1/2 cup rice flour
1 teaspoon of xanthum gum
110 grams / 1 stick of butter, cold
2 eggs
1/8 teaspoon salt (optional)
Directions
Measure all the flours out and add to a mixing bowl. Add the xanthum gum and salt as well.- Sift all the different flours together so they are completely mixed (you may need to use two mixing bowls and a funnel to do this properly.)
- Add the eggs and blend thoroughly.
- Now for the fun part: add the cold butter. I use a heavy wooden spoon to help mix things. Be careful not to blend the butter and flour too much— you still want to be able to see small bits of butter in your dough.
- Once the butter and flour have been combined, form into a ball and refrigerate for two hours.
- When you have the pie filling ready, slowly and carefully roll out the dough into a round, flat shape. To keep everything from sticking, I use a combination of sprinkles of rice flour and parchment paper. (The parchment paper makes it especially easy to transfer the rolled crust dough into the glass dish.)
- Once you’ve rolled out the dough to about 3/4 a centimeter thick, transfer it to the round baking dish. Pour in the pie filling, smooth out, and bake at 250 F / 120 C for 15 minutes, then turn down the heat and bake at 150 F / 70 C for 45 minutes or until done.
Ingredients
For the filling:
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
2 cups of pureed pumpkin
2 eggs
1/2 cup dark brown sugar
1/3 white sugar
tablespoon of cream
Directions
- Cut the pumpkin in half and scoop out the seeds.
- Bake the pumpkin for 45 minutes at 350 F/ 157 C.
- Let the pumpkin cool, then scoop out of the shell.
- Add the pumpkin, spices, sugar, eggs and cream and blend with hand blender until completely smooth and free from lumps or stringiness. (You may need to adjust the amount of cream you add.)
- When the pumpkin filling is ready, add to the crust and follow the directions above for baking.
Exploring Ukraine: Green in Lviv
As a birthday present to myself, I decided to go to Lviv in Ukraine. I’d never been, and what better present to oneself than a new stamp in the passport?
Lviv reminds me of Belgrade, as it’s a fantastic yet unappreciated city, with a rich history and culture to explore. Like Belgrade, Lviv has just one vegetarian restaurant— and like Radost in Belgrade, Green is a lovely gem, with an amazing atmosphere, friendly, helpful waiters and delicious, unique vegetarian and vegan food.
Discovering the restaurant Green was down the street from my hostel was a bonus. Just off the main market square, the menu is compact but delicious (and fortunately, they do have an English version, with lovely photos of everything.)
The Thai soup is spicy and savory, and I really liked their take on Salat Olivier, which I’ve written about before. This is a sweet version, with pears and pomegranate seeds, blended with creamy nut mayonnaise and balanced with the spicy bite of arugula and the crunch of cucumbers.
If you get there early enough for breakfast, try the sweet cheese pancakes. Lovely and sweet, a touch of orange peel bite, the sweetness is offset with a dollop of tangy yogurt sauce.
Make sure to check out the upstairs. No chairs, sitting on the floor with cushions, great place to write or hangout if you have an unexpected snowy afternoon. They also have a great tea selection (I recommend the winter blend.)
Here’s an interesting cultural thing: shoes. I’m used to taking off my shoes in Polish flats & houses, and being offered house slippers to walk around in. But I wasn’t prepared for a hostel to explain that slippers were the policy…. and certainly wasn’t ready for a museum to insist I wear slippers over my boots. (To protect the floor and save on sweeping?)
In addition to the numerous culture, history and art museums in the city, a must-see is the famous Lychakiv Cemetery. In sheer size and diversity of people interred there, it reminded me of the Père Lachaise in Paris. I saw names in Polish, German and Ukrainian, and a number of famous Poles are buried there.
The main square and castle hill (for the view) are also good places to check out. My explorations were cut bit short due to snow on Sunday, though.
If you visit, take note of language. English is spoken in few places. The hotel and airport are safe, but taxi cab drivers, tram and bus drivers and museum attendants likely won’t speak English. If you have the address to where you’ll be staying, make sure it’s written in Cyrillic. Be prepared to use hand gestures, or take a phrase or guidebook, as well as a smile and a sense of humor. I tried using my rudimentary Polish, as they’re both Slavic languages. However, while that made people more patient with me, as they thought I was a Polish tourist, it didn’t actually help much with communicating. As is often the case, younger people will likely know some English and older folks won’t. Waiters in restaurants knew basic English, but not much beyond the menu.
Which is my final suggestion for traveling in Lviv: self-cater. Near the opera, there was an outdoor market, which had plenty of fresh fruit and veggies. (Steer clear of the meat sellers, unless you have a strong stomach!) Also, Green does sell soy products— their own as well as Ukrainian brands.
In the spring, I’d love to go back— particularly with Lviv’s connection to Wroclaw. (Lviv was Polish before WWII, while Wroclaw was a German city.) I’ve seen traces of the city’s German past in Poland, and I’m curious to see more of the Polish influence in Ukraine.
Finding gluten-free pierogi in Poland
This has been an ongoing search for me: gluten-free pierogi in Poland. I love pierogi, but finding proper wheat-free ones has been difficult. So far, I’ve only found two restaurants that have them on their menus, sadly. However, I have found that Polish brand Bez Gluten makes a gluten-free version.
I’ll update this post if I find more places. In the meantime, here are the results of my searching.
A great place for dinner, this is a nice restaurant located near to the main square. They have a dedicated gluten-free kitchen, and also have lovely desserts. If you’re gluten-free, you gotta check this place out. Their pierogi ruskie are amazing and savory.
While Pod Baranem has white tablecloths, this is a airy cafe with a changing menu. Fair warning: while I lucked out on my visit, the menu seems to be always changing.
Full disclosure: while I live in Wroclaw, I haven’t checked this place out yet. However, their website says that if you call ahead, they can make gluten-free pierogi.
Another way to find gluten-free pierogi is to look for the Bez Gluten brand in health food stores. Organic Farma Zdrawia in the basement of Renoma, for example.
I talk about more gluten-free options in my post on Wroclaw Uncut.
Did I miss your favorite place? I’d love to know about a new place with gluten-free pierogi!
Mushroom hunting in Poland
An autumn walk in the forest turned into something unexpectedly delightful— my introduction to mushroom hunting in Poland, a tradition here. Occasionally, I’ll see folks on the tram with baskets or shopping bags heaped with mushrooms, the result of a great haul. Also, I completely understand now when my students ask me about different words for mushroom.
So, while some mushrooms are delicious, some are poisonous. Before you eat anything you pick in the forest, make sure you know what it is. Take a guidebook, a friend who’s gone mushroom hunting before, or there’s even apps for mushrooms. (My friend had the Mushroom Book app installed on his phone.) If all else fails, you can always take your crop of mushrooms to a fruit and veggie store and ask someone.
Black pasta roundup
What is delicious, healthy, and just looks really cool? Black pasta.
My morose inner goth girl is delighted by black noodles, all of varieties. There are two basic types of black pasta, two different ways to get lovely black noodles. One is black bean pasta, the other is black rice pasta, and both are gluten-free.
I’ve sung the praises of black bean pasta before, which are yummy, full of protein, and, unusual for pasta, low in carbs. The brand I’ve bought is Explore Asian Organic Black Bean Spaghetti, which cooks up easily, and unlike a lot of gluten-free noodles, doesn’t fall apart or get all mushy. The mild flavor pairs well with all veggies, and plus, they reheat well.
I’ve found it in lot of places: Meijer’s, Zerbo’s in Livonia, People’s Co op in Ann Arbor (which is also where I found the black rice noodles.)
Also tasty is the savory Forbidden Rice Ramen from Lotus Foods. While it not as protein-rich as black bean pasta, it’s still tasty and satisfies that craving for noodle-rich soup.
However, I was disappointed with the bean and quinoa pasta. I’ve had a lot of Ancient Harvest’s pasta before, but I wasn’t thrilled with this stuff. It had an odd, grainy aftertaste, and tended to fall apart.
Also, if you’re living in Poland, I’ve discovered black soybean pasta at the Delikatesy T&J in Wroclaw. (There’s on in the basement of Pasaz Grunwaldzki, as well as a few other places around the city.)
Did I miss a good black pasta? Let me know in the comments!
