Stuffed Grapevine Leaves

This tail-end of the summer business really appeals to me. It’s this in-between summer and fall time when we seem to get the best of both worlds. Sweaters with shorts, jeans with t-shirts, less squinting while on the computer, fewer terrible runs, going to bed at 10pm without feeling nerdy (because it’s actually dark outside), I love it all. Equally great, the subtle shifts in food; soup is back, the tomatoes are still here, apples are crisp and juicy, warm breakfasts, and it’s no longer a sweat-based decision whether or not to turn your oven on.

Cozying right into ‘pre-fall’, my oven is back in action and I’m making one of my favourite things. Just like this special time of year, this dish reminds me of my Mom, and embraces both really good tomatoes and the (slightly) cooler weather.

My sisters and I grew up on a version of these stuffed grapevine leaves that were filled with lamb or beef and rice and spices. They were roughly Lebanese in origin, (although I’m not sure how classically) and baked in tomato sauce, as opposed to Greek dolmades, which are baked in lemon juice and chicken stock. What I do know for sure is when we saw the grape vine leaves on the counter (either picked from my Granny’s garden or soaking in a bowl of water), we knew we were in for a good time (and possibly some child labour).

If you have grapevine leaves growing in your yard, you are already ahead of the game (and please send me some!). If not, they are sold in a jar in brine, like capers, and are usually in the same area of the grocery store as olives, roast peppers and canned artichokes. If you are using the jarred version, make sure you soak and rinse them well to remove the majority of the salty brine.

In the interest of combining soul food with cancer-fighting food, I have replaced the meat with sprouted lentils and walnuts, and subbed in black Japonica rice for the white rice (enzymes, fiber and pigment-power!). Doesn’t excite you? I’m aware that on paper this sounds like an unequal, salad-y trade, but trust me, just go with it. It’s not meat but once it’s all cooked together, it is pretty close to the same overall feel.

Also in the mix - fresh garlic, red onion and green onion, all from the crushing cancer family -allium (family reunion). Turmeric is in there to lower inflammation, and cinnamon, which belongs in there flavour-wise, but also has a magical side effect of helping to lower blood sugar (bad news for cancer cells, good news for everyone else).

Fresh shitake mushrooms are in there too, adding their meaty, umame flavour, some immune-boosting powers and……. vitamin D(!) I learned last week, when I attended the Inspire Health (a not-for-profit integrative cancer center in BC) LIFE program, that fungi absorb vitamin D from the sun in a similar way that humans do. They are doing some fascinating research there on vitamin D levels and their effect on cancer. Sooo, I let them suntan naked for an hour on my balcony, gills-up, before using them to QUADRUPLE their vitamin D content. As the sun moves farther away from us, it’s good to know we have a pretty solid and attainable food source of vitamin D too. Apparently it works with any type of fungi. Totally exciting.

I used passata (pureed and strained tomatoes, usually found in glass jars), a decent fresh tomato sub, but if the fresh tomatoes are still good where you are, use 4 cups of pureed tomatoes (literally, fresh tomatoes blended up in your blender) and leave them unstrained for extra fiber and vit C.

The lemon aspect of this dish is essential, so pay close attention: thinly sliced lemons go on BEFORE cooking (they mellow and you can eat them whole once cooked), and the fresh lemon juice goes on AFTER it finishes cooking. This way you get the benefits (and flavour accents) of the whole lemon as well as the benefits sharpness of the raw juice.

Serve this with tabouli, or a simple cucumber salad with lemon, mint and parsley. These are filled with protein, vitamins, and warm, cozy feelings.