My relationship with matcha is complicated. Not as complicated as with booze. But still. I’m not a fan, to put it mildly. I bought a 200 g bag about six months back. For an idea I had for a glaze for Queen Elizabeth cake. And then I used it once for that matcha recipe. And this is the third time. But there’ll probably be more matcha recipes, because I’ve definitely got too much of the stuff in stock and it needs using up.
INGREDIENTS: 4 servings of coffee — cold brew made with one litre of water (see Notes)
1 tin (400 ml) coconut milk
100 g chickpeas, tinned or cooked
1 big tablespoon of Matcha (10 g)
optional sweetener (see Variations)
METHOD: Make the cold brew following this recipe. No orange juice!
Blend the chickpeas with half the coconut milk. They blend better that way than if you chucked the lot in together.
Add the rest of the ingredients, blend a good while longer until there’s a proper foam on top.
VARIATIONS: I like bitter coffee, bitter tea, I like bitter flavours, I like the bitterness in beer, so for me this version with nothing sweet added at all is brilliant. The coconut milk brings a bit of sweetness of its own. Cold brew is less bitter than normal coffee, with a sour note to it, and that works for me.
But of course the first thing you can add, optionally, is sugar. But you can also, like in the previous recipe, add orange juice. You can add bananas and more chickpeas and turn it into a smoothie.
And why are there chickpeas in here at all? Because chickpeas have protein in them, and it’s worth making sure there’s protein even in snacks like this.
NOTES: A serving is roughly what you put in for 250 ml of brew, in cold brew recipes I use one tablespoon of coffee as a serving (though my serving in my morning coffee is a fair bit bigger)
SERVING: Best in tall, thick glasses, if you ask me. And on top, a bit of cocoa or cinnamon, say. Or a drizzle of pomegranate syrup. A drop of sesame or peanut oil. That I’d suggest mainly for the sweet version.
Working as a cook is very, very good at breeding eating disorders. Eating disorders, alongside alcoholism and drug addiction, are common occupational diseases in gastro. When you work with food all day, touching it, smelling it, seeing it, serving it, tasting a bit now and then, then as far as your brain’s concerned, you’re eating. But the body isn’t getting the fuel it needs, and neither is the brain. This is something that never existed in the process of evolution. Evolutionarily we’re not adapted to a situation like this (same as we’re not adapted to the current abundance and availability of food in general) With me it runs along a few tracks
- something like classic food aversion (anorexia). I’m put off the moment I think about eating something. As you get during a do like this, I’ve got a fridge full of all sorts of food. I open it, have a look whether I’d eat any of it, and not a fucking chance
- The thought of having to cook something for myself puts me off so much that a permanent part of my diet is Alpro vegan chocolate protein desserts. 20 g of protein and a good, meaning low, price. Their protein drinks are excellent too but dear as fuck. Maybe I’ll tag them and they’ll send me some. Eh?
- Weird flavours. Sometimes it’s some shift in what I fancy taste-wise, or something like last week when I kept eating bread rolls. Anything, as long as it came with a roll.
- The best one. That’s why this recipe exists. I fancy eating something nice, something new, something special, I’m after some weird unusual flavour, something I’ve never eaten before. That’s how more than one of my recipes came about. Normally I never make myself Cold Brew I drink one coffee early in the morning, sometimes a second in the afternoon, but I’m running about all day, especially at work, on Yerba Mate With me there’s no doubt another factor in the eating disorders, which is that my depression gives me a kicking from that side as well. Together with kitchen work it makes a splendid example of a synergy effect, of harmonious cooperation and mutual reinforcement. Shame it’s only disorders. Innit?
The kitchen is my space for lifestyle medicine.
I'm not a dietitian or a doctor – I'm a chef, and a member of the Polish Society of Lifestyle Medicine. Nutrition is essential to a modern kitchen, and that's nothing new: working from Hippocratic dietetic principles was part of a cook's craft centuries ago. At Rude Kitchen I tie that tradition to modern science — and to lifestyle. Read more about how I bring cooking and lifestyle medicine together on the About page.