Carrot Souffle recipe for baby-led weaning

Here's a good one for the younger set-- nice and soft (perhaps a bit messy), but still pick-uppable and yummy. Don't be put off by the fact that it's called a souffle-- it isn't really, since it gets some of its puff from baking powder rather than egg whites. This recipe is a long-time favorite of my in-laws-- Mae's Grammy makes it whenever the family gets together. It's easy enough for a weeknight dinner, but fancy enough for special occasions, too.  She uses canned carrots, gives it all a whirl in the food processor, and pops it in the oven. It'd be good with other veggies, too-- parsnips, winter squash, and sweet potatoes come to mind (I have tried it with winter squash-- see the variation discussed below).  The original calls for a few tablespoons of brown sugar, but I didn't miss it in the little one she baked for Mae when we visited them last week. She baked it in a 1/2 (or possibly 3/4?) cup ramekin, and Mae polished it all off (along with some kugel, roast pork, and stewed plums and apples).

Carrot Souffle

1 lb carrots, cooked and mashed (or canned)
3-4 eggs
4 Tbs flour
4 Tbs melted butter
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp vanilla

If you're using canned carrots, drain them. Then pour everything into a food processor and give it a whirl until it's nice and smooth. Pour it into a greased baking dish-- give it some room to grow, it'll puff up marvelously-- and bake at 350 for 40-50 minutes.

Variation: Use pureed winter squash or pumpkin (I don't think canned pumpkin would be very good, but then, I'm obsessed with winter squash and a bit biased. More on that come October), and add 1/4 tsp nutmeg and 1/2 tsp cinnamon.  The souffle in the picture is winter squash (Hubbard, to be precise).

Messiness rating: 3 (3+ wipe clean-up)

Carrot ginger pancakes recipe for baby led weaning

I tend to go through brief fits of enthusiasm for certain types of food, and explore all the variations of it I can think of until the obsession wanes on its own. This usually happens with sweets (there was the marshmallow phase, a fudge phase, a pate de fruit phase, an herb-infused syrup phase...), but I've also had prolonged obsessions with waffles, granola, and jam (this one is ongoing, and as far as I can tell will end only when I run out of pantry space or Mae's dad asks me not to buy any more canning jars). Right now, my attention has shifted to pancakes, due to (1) the fact that I've been eating a lot of these pancakes in the mornings because there's usually already a batch in the freezer, and I've begun to crave variety, and (2) this thread on eGullet.  It was the description of the apple pancakes that got me thinking about vegetables grated into pancakes. Not in a sneaky way, but in a "hey, that is good!" sort of way. A carrot cake sort of way.

 And so the carrot pancakes were born, although I ended up going with a slightly more savory profile than carrot cake.  You could carrot-cakify them further by throwing in a pinch of cloves, nutmeg, and allspice, as well as some ground toasted walnuts. Or you could render them more savory by leaving out the cinnamon and including some cumin and coriander. And perhaps some scallion. But I think they're pretty good as-is. 

Carrot-ginger pancakes

1 egg
1/4 c. milk
2 Tbs oil
1/2 tsp. finely grated fresh gingerroot
1 c. coarsely grated carrot
1/2 c. all-purpose flour
1 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. ground ginger
1/2 tsp. cinnamon

In one bowl, whisk together the egg, milk, oil, and grated ginger.  In another bowl, toss together the remaining ingredients. Get your skillet heating up over medium-high heat and brush it with some oil. Pour the wet ingredients into the flour/carrot mixture, and stir until just combined. Spoon the batter out onto the hot griddle-- I made these a bit smaller than my usual pancakes, about 3 inches across. Flip them when the bubbles show in the middle, and cook until nice and brown on both sides.  If you want to add some salt to the adult ones, just make the pancakes for the baby first and then throw a pinch of salt into the remaining batter.