I’m thankful for Sundays. For a long day spent exactly as I please: making raw treats and experimenting in the kitchen with my friends. I love learning about food from friends and family. It’s a great joy in my life, getting to converse on the flavors and foods that we love. Not to be overdramatic, but food gives me hope that peace is possible — when we share in our visceral love for food, our common experiences of comfort and cravings, our stories of mamma in the kitchen stirring a pot of soup. It gives me hope that dialogue and connection is possible despite the innumerable cultural and religious differences to which we all hold.
When all else fails in our attempts to know each other we can stand together over a terrine of bubbling stew, spoons in hand, and share something unique to that moment. Coriander, fennel seed, a rich broth. Dipping ripped bits of bread directly into the pot. Nodding together over more salt and is that cinnamon?
There’s a reason we seduce and convince over lovingly prepared meals. When we eat well, we elevate: our moods, our minds, our relationships. It helps to confirm our shared humanity, experiences of pleasure. It’s why we all hold certain foods close to our hearts (cornbread and collards, for me; lasagna for logan). And why we take offense to others displeasure at the foods me love. It degrades our ability to relate to them. It makes them seem that much more foreign and unknowable.
Coconut is one of those foods that divides folks remarkably into two different sets: those who, like me, are coconut cheerleaders; and those who would rather suck on gravel than eat coconut. It’s a love/hate thing. I have a lot of positive memories regarding coconut — my dad always has a coconut cake for his birthday, being a lover of all tropical foods like me. Thus, in my mind coconut = party. So I have to apologize in advance to the coconut h8trs out there. This recipe is not for you, but sometime soon I’ll make a stew with cornbread and we’ll revel in the flavor connection together once more.
I’ve had at least two of my tuned in hippie chick babe friends tell me about how incredible coconut butter is. So I was stoked when my girl Annabeth came over to my house with a bag full of coconut flakes/enthusiasm, ready to make some rad blender coconut butter.
If you use a high powered blender like a Nutribullet your coconut flakes turn into paste within 5 minutes of blending. You can make a much smaller batch in an electric coffee grinder, as well (about 1/4 cup at a time). A milling blade is ideal — that’s a flat blade, as opposed to the multi-pronged blade of most blenders. If you’re extra impatient and don’t really care about keeping your coconut butter raw you can toast your coconut lightly in a pan before blending and the coconut butter will come together even faster and more fluidly. Just be careful not to over process or the oil will separate from the coconut fiber!
Favorite ideas for eating coconut butter on toast:
gf sourdough toast + coconut butter + maple syrup + hemp hearts
gf cinnamon raisin toast + coconut butter + wildflower honey + cacao nibs
gf seven grain toast + coconut butter mixed w/ matcha + agave + vanilla powder
gf seven grain toast + coconut butter + avocado + fried mushrooms + salt + sriracha
gf sourdough toast + coconut butter mixed w/ miso paste + spicy kimchi
How do you like to eat coconut butter? Let me know in the comments!
- 1 cup coconut flakes
- Add the coconut flakes to the bowl of a high powered blender fitted with a flat milling blade.
- Blend on high for 5 minutes, or until the coconut begins to come together as a paste. You may need to stop the blender every minute or so to scrape down the sides of the bowl to get all of the dry flakes milled into the butter.
- When it's done it will be a creamy dough.
- To serve, spread on toast or over fruit, mix into oatmeal or eat it straight up!
- To store: scoop the coconut butter out into a glass jar and store at room temperature.