Durham's Kathy Hester to be featured on January live Cook the Book cook-along event

Following the success of Saturday's debut online cook-along with Chapel Hill's Nancie McDermott, Cook the Book With Denise and Jenni  has scheduled its second event with another local talent: Kathy Hester of Durham. Hester, a prolific writer of vegan cookbooks recently featured in the INDY, will select a recipe from her new release, The Easy Vegan Cookbook.

"We're still working to confirm the date, but mostly likely it will be January 9 or 10," says Field, a Garner baker and recipe developer who blogs as Pastry Chef Online. "We're hoping that Kathy will have some big news to share by then, too."

Field presented Saturday's live, bi-coastal cooking program with colleague Denise Vivaldo, a  food stylist and instructor based in Southern California. McDermott cooked along with Field in her camera-filled kitchen, while Vivaldo surprised McDermott by having a guest present, too: Jill O'Connor, McDermott's longtime friend, who is thanked in the acknowledgements section for providing the good-humored encouragement to complete the new Southern Soups & Stews.

Saturday's participants cooked in real time with the four presenters, who prepared Sheri Castle's recipe for Watauga County Chicken Stew with Fluffy Dumplings; at least 157 participants from several continents were logged in at one point. Participants in Saturday's event who made the recipe were encouraged to post a photo of it on the Cook the Book Facebook page. Three personally autographed copies of McDermott's Southern Soups will be awarded today to randomly selected entrants.

Follow the page for additional details about the Kathy Hester cook-along, as well as events being organized in California by Denise Vivaldo. If you missed Saturday's broadcast, it can be viewed via blab.im.

This post first appeared in Indy Week.

Vegan/raw diet can be life changer

This post first appeared in Indy Week.

Louis Vitello was a chubby kid who grew into an obese adult. At age 25, he weighed 398 pounds and dismissed a doctor's warning that his health habit would send him to an early grave.

"He told me I had 10 years to live if I didn't change my life, so I figured I had time to deal with it," says Vitello, a New Jersey native who moved to Raleigh a few months ago. "I wasn't ready to give things up."
 
Just days after his diagnosis, however, two terrible things happened. First, an overweight friend suffered a devastating diabetic collapse. After he stayed with the family at the hospital, another friend persuaded him to take a day off to visit. Before Vitello could leave in the morning, the friend's wife called to say her husband had died of a massive heart attack.
 
"They were both big guys like me, who never thought about how their lifestyle was making them sick," says Vitello, now 31, who has lost and kept off more than 200 pounds by strict adherence to a vegan/raw diet. "I didn't want that to be me."
 
Tired of fad diets, Vitello developed his own weight-loss plan, first by eliminating processed foods and then focusing on vegetables. A former network engineer, he now works as a wellness and weight-loss coach and teaches classes in healthy food preparation at Whisk in Cary. He also maintains a website, VeganCarolina, which lists vegan restaurants across the state and serves to connect vegans through community-based groups.
 
"My love of raw foods started with juicing, but there's so much more to it," he says. "I love cooking now, and hope people look at me and see what a vegan/raw diet has helped me achieve."

Kiss and tell

This post was first published by the Independent Weekly on Nov. 28.

Nama Kiss Fudge (Photo by D.L. Anderson)

Ah, fudge. It's so decadent and seductive. Who can resist a meltingly creamy bite of magically transformed chocolate, with its rich whole milk (or canned condensed), slabs of butter, scoops of sugar and globs of corn syrup?

Well, what did you think was in it? The average 1-inch square of fudge packs nearly 150 empty calories, and that's not counting the nuts, marshmallows or other add-ins that make you drool outside the fudge shop window. Yes, we saw you.

For many of us, especially during this season, the splurge is worth it because, darn it, you're worth it. As you reach for another piece, and another, your mind pleasantly drifts to Yule logs and mistletoe. But soon enough, the feeling of warm nostalgia turns to one of sugary regret. Why does this happen every year? Why can't someone make healthy fudge?

"Fudge does not have to be bad for you," says Andi Wolfgang, a calm and culinarily centered soul who produces raw, vegan, organic fudge at Raleigh's Nama Kiss. The tempting nibbles weigh in at about 87 calories apiece and are soy- and gluten-free.

"Personally, I don't like traditional fudge. It's so sweet, I feel like I'm eating a bowl of sugar," Wolfgang says as she preps a batch of her "superfood" fudge, whose primary ingredient is dried reishi mushroom powder.

Reishi figures prominently in traditional Asian medicine, and increasingly its curative value is being acknowledged stateside as well. Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center's website notes that it is used as an immune stimulant by patients with HIV and cancer. It also may improve lower urinary tract symptoms in men and have mild anti-diabetic effects.

"Sometimes, when I tell people there is reishi in there, they wrinkle their nose. They are convinced they won't like it," Wolfgang says. "But I've never had anyone tell me they didn't like it because it had mushrooms."

A completely unscientific poll based on a scant nibble of reishi fudge tasted by a pair of male carnivores led to comments like "creamy but mushroomy," while two mostly vegetarian females found an entire square to be "mind-blowingly scrumptious." Nama Kiss claims its product contains natural aphrodisiacs and beneficial life-force energy, so perhaps you need the full dose to truly feel the love.

Wolfgang, who is more of a pescetarian these days, first embraced a raw vegan diet when she was living in Tokyo and studying Japanese. Her sister Angi joined her there, and their cooking became so popular that they starting teaching classes. An impressed client invested in a restaurant to feature their foods.

The sisters next experimented with making sweets, and another investor sniffed a marketing success. "That's how Nama Kiss started," says Wolfgang, noting the Tokyo branch now operates independently.

Angi married a Japanese man and continues to make her home in Tokyo. When Andi returned to the U.S., she followed her parents from Pennsylvania to Raleigh, where they bought a home. Their father, Larry Wolfgang, is amused that his girls have made international headlines for selling raw vegan fudge.

"Hey, I've even done the vegan cleanse," he says proudly. "I thought it was kind of crazy at first, but I've got to admit: I feel better. Eating healthy foods really makes a difference in your life."

That's the reaction Wolfgang wants to inspire in people who figured there'd never again be a place for fudge in their careful diet.

"Much like the boost you get from exercise, the raw ingredients and natural tryptophan gives you a high that doesn't crash," she explains as she pours a glossy stream of velvety fudge from a blender into a pan to set. "We probably tested at least 2,000 variations before we finally settled on this."

Nama Kiss currently offers reishi and dark-chocolate sea-salt fudge but also makes other varieties to order. Prices range from $7.50 for 1/8-pound (four pieces) to $28.50 for a half-pound. The price reflects the high cost of quality ingredients and the fact that every batch is hand crafted.

Because its only "stabilizer" is pure cocoa butter, Nama Kiss fudge is sold chilled but is best enjoyed at room temperature. It will hold a few days on the counter and at least three weeks in the refrigerator.

Except for hot summer months, it's safe for shipping to family and friends who seek treats that meet their dietary preferences. In fact, Nama Kiss is offering a 30 percent discount through the holidays to those who email their orders to andi@namakiss.com.