Full Moon Fever: Raw Cacao + Coconut Cream Moon Cakes

Moon Cakes

Entertaining a cabal of discriminating raw vegan occultists this full moon? Perhaps you’ve a coven of rogue astronomers to impress, and don’t fancy making the same old edible space diorama out of cocktail weenies and day-glo jello planets. Or do you have a hankering to sequester yourself in your homestead for a Cosmos marathon this full moon weekend, and haven’t the foggiest notion what to serve amongst bong rips and tumblers of gypsy wine?! Fret not, kitchen witches! All of the full moon fabulousness you can stuff into one raw dessert is contained HEREIN:

Mooncakes

These moon cakes are marvels of opulent coconut cashew cream and diabolical chocolate enchantment. Surely to please raw foodists and opinionated omnivores alike, they can be served up as a mundane dessert OR consecrated for ritual, adding a sympathetic zing to your full moon sabbat. They freeze majestically if sealed in glass Tupperware and gingerly defrosted. For an elaborate rite, you can enchant each cookie phase with a particular intention that you wish to cultivate over the course of a moon cycle, and ingest each by each as she waxes and wanes in the sky. I always add bits and bobbles of mojo to my kitchen witchery, and sympathetic potions and herbs could easily be sprinkled in the cake batter. A brew of magically enchanted tea could even be used in lieu of the coconut water, if you don’t mind capricious results. Otherwise, stick faithfully to the following:

FULL MOON FROSTING

  • 2 Cups Cashews, raw and unsalted. You’ll want to soak them for a few hours in purified water until soft, discarding the soaking water before adding to the blender.

  • 1 Coconut, including ¼ cup of the coconut water and all of the meat scooped.

  • ¾ Cup Coconut Butter. We’re sweet on Artisana Raw Coconut Butter at our homestead, but any will do.

  • ½ Cup Agave Nectar or Raw Coconut Nectar

  • 1 Vanilla Bean, split and scraped like a boss.

Daintily pile your assemblage into a Vitamix, or suitable blender with Beast Mode settings (heads up- this will MURDER a regular blender). You’ll have to put in some austere elbow grease to get a smooth consistency, comprised of plunging and stirring on the regular. Be patient- it will come! Once you’ve finessed a felicitous blender of frosting, refrigerate to set until your cookies are ready to frost.

RAW CACAO MOON CAKES

  • 3 Cups Almond Flour

  • ½ Cup Coconut Oil

  • ½ Cup Agave Nectar or Coconut Nectar

  • ½ Cup Raw Cacao Powder

  • Dash of Sea Salt

Corral your cake constituents in a food professor, and pulse until dough-like. Roll out your dough on a sheath of wax paper, until you finesse an orb of chocolatey goodness from your fingers. Procure a rolling pin (or make one out of an empty beer bottle turned on its side), and roll out the dough until it is roughly ¼ inch thick. If you find the dough is sticking like crazy to the wax paper, you can grease a lil’ coconut oil over your surface and fingers. Cut out your moons carefully with a circular cookie cutter, shiv, or the mouth of a suitably shaped cup. Set for a spell in the fridge, and then frost your best gibbous’ and crescents using cumulus clouds of lush coconut cream. Serve immediately, or freeze in glass Tupperware to enjoy periodically along with the phases of the moon. ☾⚫☽

DIY Love Magic: Body-Cultured Raw Yogurt

Homemade Yogurt

Howsabout this for Valentine’s Day… culture a jar of homemade yogurt by the heat of your own body! Raw milk + yogurt starter + mason jar + snuggling + ecstatic love = romantical and delicious Valentine’s Day breakfast, or sublimely sexy gift for your darlin’!

Before Valentine’s Day was co-opted by squaresville Judeo-Christian materialists with a penchant for stale chocolate and ugly thongs, February 14th was part of Lupercalia, a carnal hootenanny of Ancient Roman proportions, harkening the Great God Pan with all sorts of lascivious melee. Lupercalia, the ‘Wolf Festival’, honored the She-Wolf who suckled the orphaned infants Romulus and Remus, the mythical founders of Rome. Like a regular afternoon in the Baroness Homestead, folks would run through the streets buck naked, whipping each other bawdily with improvised lashes, adorning themselves in goatskins, and petitioning the Gods and Goddesses for love & fertility. Bring a bit of this heathen witchery back to Valentine’s Day this year, and celebrate by making your own She-Wolf yogurt!

Magic Yogurt

METHOD

You will need the following: one quart raw milk, yogurt starter (easily procurable at your local health food store), thermometer, saucepan, clean mason jar with tight-fitting lid (at least one quart), snuggle buddy. For best results, perform the following in the nude, right before bed, on a sympathetic moon:

Gently heat your milk in a saucepan over a low flame until it reaches a balmy 180 degrees. Try your damnedest to maintain this temperature for about five minutes, making sure you DO NOT BOIL (this is important for keeping all of the lusciously lively beneficial bacteria alive & kicking). This would be an excellent time to stir your pot o’ milk, weaving incantations of mojo and magic into your love yogurt. Turn off the heat, and allow the milk to cool to about 108-112 degrees. Add the yogurt starter to your clean mason jar. My starter takes about 1-2 teaspoons per quart of milk, but as these are living beings with varying potency, yours may be a lil’ different. Follow the directions on your packet for best results. Languidly add a few tablespoons of milk, mixing lubriciously to make a smooth paste. Continue adding your milk in a slow stream until the jar is bursting with mirthful milky goodness, and cap tightly once you’ve sealed your intention into the jar. Sequester yourself in bed with your amorous accomplice, and incubate your yogurt overnight by the warmth of your steamy flesh. My Magic Man and I cradled ours between the sheets for a good eight hours, and as the sun crowned over our bedstead, we had a perfectly-cultured jar of ambrosial alchemy, cultured in our curves and imbued with the enchantment of our ecstatic love. Refrigerate as you would ho-hum store bought yogurt, and spoon feed when the mood strikes.

The Nectar of Nefertum: Egyptian Blue Lotus Wine

Blue Lotus in all her splendor

Blue Lotus in all her splendor

“I rise like Nefertum, who is the lotus at the nostrils of Ra when he comes forth from the horizon each day.”

-The Egyptian Book of the Dead

“Branches they bore of that enchanted stem, 
Laden with flower and fruit, whereof they gave 
To each, but whoso did receive of them, 
And taste, to him the gushing of the wave 
Far far away did seem to mourn and rave 
On alien shores; and if his fellow spake, 
His voice was thin, as voices from the grave; 
And deep-asleep he seem’d, yet all awake, 
And music in his ears his beating heart did make.”

-‘The Lotos-Eaters’, Lord Alfred Tennyson

Some newfangled Egyptologists (I’m looking at you, Jeremy Naydler! Here’s a high five while we’re at it!) are assailing the staunch anthropological old-guard with some pretty high-fallutin’ hypotheses. These rogue scholars pluckily postulate that the collective papyri forming the Egyptian Book of the Dead are not merely a funery handbook of spells and incantations for dead folks hankerin’ to make a graceful transition to greener pastures. Instead, they’ve laid claim that this ancient, cadaverous tome should be read as a manual for the art of ‘practicing dying’ by us lucky folks topside o’ the soil. I can, and do, emphatically believe the chutzpah of these incendiary eggheads, and not just because I practice dying most every day with desolate relish. Ancient Egypt stinks to high heaven of Shamanistic inclinations! Animal-headed deities, a shamanistic Priesthood highly esteemed within the stratified society, hieroglyphs & papyri a’plenty showing profound knowledge of plant lore and altered states of consciousness, psychoactive ritual cocktails that may (or may not, juries out) have included mandrakes and poppies, transmutation rites, guiding the souls of the dead hither and tither…must I go on?!

Like Naydler postulates in Shamanic Wisdom in the Pyramid Texts: The Mystical Tradition of Ancient Egypt, I’m high on believing the secret of the Egyptian Mysteries could very well lay in the concept of the body itself as a kind of tomb, enclosing godlike candy that has the potential to escape from the earthly realm entirely and dwell amongst the stars. Naydler writes:

“The akh is that part of our inner being that can be considered divine. It has the potential to escape entirely from earthly and even cosmic limitations, and it is through the akh that we can receive divine wisdom and insight. Only once the ba (what we would consider the soul, or consciousness) is seen to be independent of the body, then it is possible to come to know the akh, which was seen by the Egyptians as luminous and associated with the sun, and which, after death or through the ritual of the mysteries, found its place among the stars.“

If we’re in the business of discarding tombs both real and imagined (which I am), Nymphaea Caerulea, the Sacred Blue Water Lily of the Nile, would be an excellent ferry cross the river Styx. Carrying in its serpentine, cerulean DNA a shamanic cocktail of disintegration (apomorphine) and communion (nuciferine), she truly is Hermetic gnosis manifest- a vehicle for the ecstatic alchemical separation of body and spirit, a botanical simulacrum of simultaneous ‘solve et coagula’. Nuciferine serves to ‘strip off the garment’ of the lotus eater, while the euphoric tendrils of apomorphine liberate the akh, the luminous sun of our inner being.

As the sacred flower of the pharaohs, her plant manna was used ritualistically by the ancient Egyptian noblesse to produce shamanic ecstasy and hypnotic trance in magical rites, mostly involving the gruesome twosome of sex and death (9 out of 10 words in that last sentence make me exuberantly, erotically excited). Chinese botanists (my favorite kind, this side of Luther Burbank), were convinced the lotus had the ability to transcend the limitations of time, as they believed she flowered and bore fruit simultaneously. As a ritual libation, I’ve been ensconced in a wanton love affaire with Nymphaea Caerulea ever since ingesting a hydrosol distilled from her cerulean buds at a workshop with John Steele on Shamanism and Fragrance in Ancient Egypt.

All this epically erotic entheogenic Ethnobotany gets me terribly hot and bothered, but the REAL reason I fell in love with the lotus is because of how she’s pollinated. It’s truly the hottest piece of pornography this side of Georges Bataille. Sacred scarabs are lured into the dark waters by the lily at dusk, no match for its irresistibly miasmic pineapple musk. They intoxicatedly feast on the central petals, so engorged with lily liquor they fail to notice when the flower closes over them. The anthers then ripen and shed their pollen over the trapped beetles, whilst the flower descends back into the black waters of the Nile, for a night of Bacchanalian revelry in an underwater boudoir of velvet pollen, beating wings, nectar victuals and ecstatic sex. As Ra rises over the horizon, the enshrined altar re-emerges above the water, and the beetles are set free to do the walk of shame across the banks of the Nile.

The first time I heard this story, I had to pick my jaw up off the floor. I was simply bereft at being relegated to a lifetime of banal ‘human sex’ in church pews and Burger King bathrooms. Not content to suffer beyond this lifetime with the paltry constraints of human biology, I vow that my love and I will incarnate as bandit beetles next time we spin ‘round this rusty wheel. I promise to ensconce us in orgies of Saturnalian stamens and sub-aquatic romps in flowery coffers, of pollinated perversions and death rites in the ether.

In this lifetime, ritualistic victuals of lotus wine will have to suffice. You can make your own sacraments with a decent bottle of Rosé, a few ounces of Nymphaea Caerulea, and a few shakes of a lamb’s tail. Simply take 20 grams or so of lotus, crack open your bottle, skim a few chugs off the top, and soak your petals in the juices for three days to three weeks. You’ll want to re-cork your vessel and store it in the fridge until it’s time to commune. Like most lovely things, she’s a bitter pill, and her unguents may need to be cut with a little raw honey to sweeten the deal. I spent some time enchanting my brew for use in oracular ritual and tomb-discarding tumult. It’s always good to be on the same page as your elixirs. 

Like all noblesse flowers of the Philistines, Nymphaea has her very own God presiding over those bodacious blooms. Nefertum is the Egyptian god of the lotus and perfumery, an archetype of rejuvenation and anointment. As an avatar of Nefertum, ingesting the lotus into your temple (lotophagus, as the Greeks say, cause Ancient Greek makes me swoon) is akin to the ribald Dionysian rite of enthusiasmos, a state of being quite literally ‘filled by the gods.’ So make like Alan Watts and leave ‘your skin-encapsulated ego’ behind! Ra, Ra, shish boom Ra! 

Tonic Truffles

Botanarchy Tonic Truffles

In the midst of a tantrum of Henry Miller, Nina Simone and torrential downpour, I decided it would only be apt to indulge in some raw trufflery to match my dark and stormy mood. Herbal truffles taste like sleeping in a field of wild yarrow and waking up to a steaming mug of chocolate-laced morning dew. I taught these ecstatic orbs of chocolate bliss in a cooking class over the weekend with Sara Pettitt, L.Ac. They would be dashing nestled in a vintage tin and gussied up with ribbons for holiday gifts!

Combine the following equipage in a Cuisinart, process until well-mixed, then roll into little balls. Store in a sealed jar away from heat, or in the fridge if you’re so inclined.

1 cup coconut butter, warmed up to a sultry melt on the stove
¾ cup raw cacao powder
4 Tbsp raw agave or honey: If you’re a high roller-which I ain’t- Manuka Honey would be divine
1 vanilla bean, split lengthwise & scooped for its ambrosial, aromatic marrow

4 drops of medicinal-grade essential oil 

Tried & true favorites include Rose Geranium, Blood Orange, Bergamot Mint, Frankincense, Vanilla, Lavender, Coffee & Peppermint

The key to ‘medicinal grade’ oils is to know your source. Most commercial oils are not up to snuff, shoddily suspended in toxic carrier oils and distilled using commercial solvents. These are dandy for perfumery, but their molecules are inherently discordant- do not ingest! Medicinal grade oils are 100% pure plant manna. Distilling essential oils the old-fangled way liberates the soul of the plant matter, producing an exquisitely refined product to provoke nonpareil religious experience (I’m totally serious here). They are, in a word, transcendent. Bow graciously before their power. 

Most of my oils are from John Steele of Lifetree Aromatix. John is a humble, antiquated gentleman scholar who does his best to remain inconspicuous on the internet (hats off to you!). A true Renaissance gent, John’s an Archaeologist, Aromatherapist, shaman, mentor, comrade of Terence McKenna, and all around alchemist of the arcane who has the supremely enviable task of traversing the world for ethnobotanical treasures. To get your paws on his epic catalogue of personally-sourced plant manna from blessed bogs and sacred spaces, contact Lifetree Aromatix at (818) 986-0584. I also adore Floracopeia and Alchemica Botanica, should you be so inclined.

Remember to use only high quality essential oils, and do your research on safety- anything labeled ‘Absolute’ is for perfumery, not epicurianery! Not to be consumed whilst pregnant or breastfeeding, of course.

Enjoy chocolate with garlands of gusto in radiant health!

Debaucherous + Decadent Damiana Elixir

Damiana, Vanilla Bean, Saw Palmetto, Angelica Root

Damiana, Vanilla Bean, Saw Palmetto, Angelica Root

This tawdry tincture is a real Cassanova, and has quite an illustrious reputation as the delightfully lascivious libation of the Aztecs. Known for centuries as a potent sexual and nerve tonic, Damiana grows wild throughout the American Southwest, and has been used throughout indigenous cultures in Central America and Mexico. With his cohorts Saw Palmetto and Angelica by his side, and a heavy-handed dose of vodka and honey, this tranquilo tonic harmonizes the reproductive system and spreads the good vibrations. It is not to be used during pregnancy, though it surely may enhance the odds of having one.

This recipe is from herbalist Lori Herron. You will need the following accoutrements:

750 ml bottle of Organic Prairie Vodka (Non-gmo vodka distilled from corn, cooperatively grown in the heartland of Minnesota! Swoon!)

1 oz Damiana Leaves

2 Tbsp Saw Palmetto Berries

2 Tbsp Angelica Root

2 Vanilla Beans

1 Gallon Glass Jar

Distilled Water

1 cup local Honey

Measure out your herbs, adding them all to your gallon jar. Pour the whole bottle of Vodka over them, ala Nick Cage in Leaving Las Vegas. Seal your jar and put in a cool, dark place so it can do its sultry magic in private. Keep your empty Vodka bottle for later. After one week, strain the mixture through a coffee filter and save the liquid (this is where your empty Vodka bottle comes in handy). Re-soak the herbs in your gallon jar, this time adding 750 ml distilled water. Let this sit for another week, then strain yet again. Heat this mixture just enough to dissolve one cup of local honey, remembering to thank the bees for their beautiful bounty. Remove from the heat, allow to cool a bit, and then add your vodka infusion.

Don’t hit the sauce just yet- you must age the whole thing under the cloak of darkness for at least a month! Be mindful, and remember the wisdom of the wizened sage Axl Rose-all we need is just a little patience.

You can take a few ounces of this ambrosial elixir daily as a nice Yang Tonic, or add it to cocktails for a whole ‘nother kind of medicine (recipes pending). Word on the street is that a chalice of this balmy brew shared with your beau will induce euphoria and a heightened sense of communion. Hoist the chalice!