Koers - Cook lively!: 100 easy plant-based recipes for high energy, glowing skin, and a vibrant life--using 10 ingredients or less

W elcome to the world of simple, satisfying plant-based eating! The easy, gluten-free, vegan, and mostly raw recipes in this book are practical and doable and use easy-to-find ingredients. If youre like me, you want to make a recipe at any time of year, no matter whats in season. My own cooking journey began on a remote rural island, where I didnt have the luxury of easily darting to my local farmers market in February. Some days wed be snowed in, but Id still be able to make delicious fresh dishes using basic ingredients I had on hand in my pantry.

But I wasnt always such a whiz in the kitchen. As a child growing up on an island off the west coast of Canada, I dreamt of becoming a writer. I assumed Id write a mystery novel one daynot a cookbook. And my parents, who divorced when I was five, had very different ideas about food!

A gypsy at heart, for my mother cooking was not a main event. My mom is a professional violinist and music historian who values family history, reading, kind words, creativity, and, of course, music. For her, eating was just a necessary grind in between lifes real adventures. We ate healthy, hippy-esque meals that leaned toward the vegetarian side, but food was not the focal point of our days. My health-conscious mom rarely brought sweet treats into the house, and I quickly learned that the easiest way to get cookies into our house was to bake them myself. At Moms, life was happy and healthy, but not centered around food.

Meanwhile, weekends were spent at my dads. At Dads, life happened in the kitchen, mostly thanks to my stepmother. She skillfully plated gourmet dinners for 19, the menu planned weeks in advance and the table set the night before. And Dad cooked toohis favorites were Dutch specialties: oliebollen on New Years and pannenkoeken with blackberry syrup and yogurt on Sunday mornings. In December, we ceremoniously stirred the Christmas cake batter in a heavy, vintage yellowware bowl and made wishes. Being the youngest, afterwards I got to lick the bowl. I can still conjure up the flavor of the batter: sweet and buttery with a hint of lemon, the rich dough dotted with jeweled squares in red, yellow, and green. My childhood memories of Dads place are all anchored around mouthwatering traditions.

Stirring the Christmas cake at Dads

My Mom, the violinist

Despite this, I hadnt cooked much for myself before moving out and into a home of my own. At 19, I moved with my vegetarian boyfriend into a tiny house next to a sheep farm. It was important to him that I become a vegetarian, and so I reluctantly agreed to give up red meat, poultry, and seafood. But that didnt mean that I knew how to cook! Instead, I unwrapped, I microwaved, I snacked, and I ordered in. I ate ice cream for dinner and reheated pizza for breakfast. Ramen noodles were in steady rotation, and an overflowing candy drawer saw me through university cram sessions and television commercial breaks. When grocery shopping, occasionally Id add a few token vegetables into my shopping cart, but, once home, I didnt know how to incorporate them into my regular routine or what to do to make them taste appealing. The vegetables inevitably wilted in the back of the fridge, and eventually I stopped buying vegetables and fruit altogether, because I really didnt see the point. I was a vegetarian, but I didnt know how to cook, and I was addicted to instant food.

Meanwhile, there was my body to contend with. Although I had been a tall and skinny kid, once I hit puberty I kept finding myself on the wrong side of the scale. And now I was getting even slower, even heavier, and even grumpier. Plus, although I was way past teenage-hood, my acne was getting worse, not better. It seemed that my fast-food diet was being reflected on my outside, and I did not like what I saw.

By 25, I was carrying an extra 25 pounds, eating terribly, and having a difficult time staying awake past 8 p.m. My energy was low and my skin was angry, but this had become my new normal. A few years later, I looked in the mirror and truly saw myself and how I had turned out. I realized that I was now an adult, and it was time to own my choices. If I was already overweight and sluggish,