Chocolate Mousse, Primal Style with Coconut Milk

I’ve been buying coconut milk by the case from Amazon since the stores around here, including Trader Joe’s, only carry low-fat coconut milk. Yuck, right? The last case I ordered was Thai Kitchen Pure Coconut Milk, sold by Amazon. It was so thick it came out of the can in one solid chunk, very little liquid. In my newest order, the cans were labeled with more Marketingese: “Thai Kitchen Unsweetened Premium First Pressing Coconut Milk (95% Organic)” and the contents contained more liquid. This batch was also sold by Amazon.

The differences in textures and qualities of the various coconut milk brands and even within the brand makes it hard to get a consistent ingredient for recipes – so when you are trying to replicate a recipe that simply calls out “coconut milk” be aware that the kind of coconut milk the originator of the recipe used and the kind you buy can be quite different. I find the liquid that separates from the creamy part of coconut milk tends to have an off taste, tinny is how I would describe it, and the tinniness gets imparted into your recipe.

Anyway, enough consumer education, let’s get on with the recipe. I’ve made this a few times and I think last night’s was the best I’ve concocted so far.

Mr. PR had grabbed some fresh raspberries yesterday so as I was planning to cook dinner I thought, what could I do with those raspberries? Oh, doh! Chocolate! Chocolate mousse.

Okay, now I have to let you know before you get mad – I do not use recipes. I have lots of beautiful cookbooks I love to look at. But I don’t use recipes. I get ideas from recipes. I might follow a recipe in a kinda-sorta way. But I don’t measure out ingredients and use all the same ingredients.

Even my own concoctions are not really recipes – written-down, measured out recipes. Nope. I don’t do that. So I’m not going to give you any of those kinds of recipes here on my blog. So your results of my concoctions will vary.

Okay!  That caveat out of the way. Last night here is kinda-sorta what I did:

Open three cans of  coconut milk I described earlier. Drain out the water. I put the water aside for another use – probably something like a soup or smoothie. Put the creamy, buttery part in a mixing bowl.

Thai Kitchen Coconut Milk

Add the remainder of a container of pure, unsweetened cocoa powder.

cocoa powder

I didn’t have enough to give it that really chocolatey taste, so I added about an equal amount of Ghirardelli double chocolate cocoa powder, sweetened. I didn’t look at the ingredients. Honestly, why do that to myself? I know the stuff is sweetened. That’s all I need to know.

Using a silicone spatula, I mixed and mixed and mixed until all the cocoa powder was blended (lots of lumps – I had to change hands a couple of times from fatigue). After the mixture was lump-free I poured it into a glass container, covered it and put it in the refrigerator. Then I licked the spatula and cleaned the bowl with my finger – then licked my finger. Can’t let that chocolatey heavenliness go to waste.

I grilled some vegetables and some salmon for dinner.  Here is how I grill the salmon – I cover this grill basket thingie with foil, and put the salmon on it and cook it on the grill uncovered. I’ve tried it covered with foil but I like the flavor and consistency of the salmon done this way. Self-experimentation y’all, that’s what it’s all about.

salmon fillets

Use a little olive oil on the foil to prevent sticking

Then I grilled a bunch of tri-tip steaks for cutting into roast beef slices for lunches. Funny how the dog is always around when I turn on the grill. 

dog on deck

Don't mind me, I'm just looking at the view...

After dinner, when those tritips have cooled, I use a long, serrated knife and slice them up. Before I threw them on the grill I gave them a sprinkling of Montreal Steak Seasoning. That’s all. And I keep them quite rare because refrigerating will toughen a medium rare or medium well done beef. Tritips are pretty lean too, so to get the moist, flavorful roast beef slices, you’ll want to keep them rare. Then let them rest before slicing.

tritip steaks

Taking a rest

Alright, enough side-tracking. Back to the mousse. After dinner was eaten and cleared and the tritips were sliced and put away and the dog got fed and given some tritip pieces and juice as a doggy jackpot, I took out the cooled mousse. The mousse firmed up into a consistency between pudding and traditional mousse. This picture is meant to give you an idea of that consistency. Hope that works for ya.

chocolate coconut milk mousse

Chocolate Coconut Milk Mousse

I spooned some mousse into margarita/ice cream glasses, then loaded the glasses with the raspberries, which I had taken out of the fridge to take the edge off. (I don’t like cold fruit).

Raspberries and Chocolate Mousse

Shameless plug of my orchid-growing capabilities

Ohhhhhh! So creamy, so chocolatey! It was so rich. I mean a little too rich. I had to give some of mine to Mr. PR, my mouth just couldn’t take anymore. Next time I serve it out I’ll use less mousse and more fruit. It’s that rich. Very delicious. Very mousse-like. If someone served this to you in their home, you would not believe that this isn’t the traditional cream-and-egg mousse. It’s that good. And there’s no coconut taste at all. I’ve got to get some vanilla-flavored protein powder and try that next time to make a nice vanilla pudding. That would be awesome with fruit.

Lunch Mates

Well, that was fun! I posted a few unrelated articles then dropped this blog for over a year. My, my, I didn’t take myself for a procrastinator! What was I doing? Where has the time gone?

Stuff did happen.

33 Chilean Miners were rescued on television and the world was transfixed.

Oil spilled for 86 days in the Gulf of Mexico and the world was transfixed.

North Korea provoked South Korea again and the world was transfixed.

Me and Mr. PR went Primal (more on that soon).

Oh, and I had visitors.

I like when people want to come to my house and tell me to make sure to bring the dog to the airport. Or they ask me to come over and get all, “where’s the dog?” Thanks guys. I get it.

Lunching with Dog

Lunch Mates

We ate. A lot. I fell off the Primal wagon a few (cough) times. I had to buy rice for the house. I mean, my mom. My nephew. They need rice. They has to haz rice. And Korean food. And Korean sweets. And American pastries. And bread for sandwiches. And we went out to eat a bunch of times. I had a lot of doggy bags. Then there’s my mom. Her eyes are way bigger than her stomach. DoggyBag should be her middle name. Lots of boxes and bags in the fridge.

Buddies

Buddies

We went here and there. We ate all kinds of food. I had to go up a jeans size. Dang. It’s expensive to buy all new jeans. Even at the outlet mall. I ate a burger at the San Diego Zoo that was called an Angus burger but tasted like sawdust. Can you make hamburgers out of sawdust and call it Angus burger? Evidently you can.

Odo at Lunch

I ordered 40 minutes ago dangit - where's my crepe?!

After the visitors left I threw all the miscellaneous boxes and half-eaten Korean food into the trash. Ugh. Primal re-boot, and with a vengeance. I started boiling bone broth right away. Lifting heavy things. Getting sun. Reclaimed the guest room closet. (That part’s not necessarily Primal). Cleaned the house. Put on the country music.

The Ping Pong Chronicles, the Beginnings

Cripes am I tired.

Picture this: a middle-aged woman, Ms. Positively Radical, fit but not athletic by any standards, never played a ball sport, never played a sport period. Cheerleading doesn’t count, at least not what we called cheerleading back in the day. Disco dancing doesn’t count – although if I were doing that 3 times a week it would definitely be a sport and I’d have dancer’s legs – if this were 1980 and discos still existed. Walking the dog doesn’t count. It’s a weiner dog,  ’nuff said. Pilates doesn’t count. I’m sorry Pilates people. I took the classes, I bought a reformer, I still use it. It’s great for stretching and toning but it’s not a workout.  Walking really doesn’t count. I can get tired out and break a light sweat walking but it takes a looooong walk. I don’t have that kind of time. My feet don’t have that kind of time.

Ping pong. Table tennis. That’s where I get my workout. Don’t laugh, I ain’t lying.

ping pong

Regular ol' ping pong

Started as a social thing. A few friends have tables, we’d play after dinner or something. Play like you all imagine ping pong playing – just tapping a ball back and forth lightly, chasing the runaway balls and laughing. Maybe some drinking would be involved. Definitely eating. Eating and drinking. Hitting a few balls, having some yucks.

ping pong players

Ping Pong is Tres Chic, non?

Then a couple of the friends found a local club. A CLUB. A ping pong club. Yes, they do exist, can you imagine that? The friends were positively giddy (not Positively Radical, that would be me), and they promptly joined the club and let me know that my husband and I HAD to go check it out, because they had REAL players, who could beat all our asses, even my husband’s cuz he’s the best of all our friends.

Well that got my husband’s attention (from now on let’s call my husband Mr. Positively Radical, or Mr. PR for short). Anyway, Mr. PR was intrigued, so we visited the club the following weekend.

Oh. My. God. Y’all. Really. About 30 people were in this gymnasium pinging and ponging away like there was no tomorrow. And at a level theretofore unbeknownst to us. Like Olympic-type level. Seriously I was scared. There was grunting and sweating and fancy moves and these folks looked like they were hopped up on some kind of drug.

ping pong players

Are these men on drugs?

Before I knew what happened, I had purchased an expensive paddle and signed up for lessons. (To be continued — Dun! Dun! Dunnnn!!!)