The Best Gluten-Free Pizza Crust, Goddess Style

Gluten free pizza crust - my new recipe

PIZZA. YES.


For years I've missed pizza. Not because there isn't gluten-free pizza available. It's out there. You can find it if you look hard enough. Take a gander in the frozen food aisle of your favorite natural market. Snoop around in the dairy case, next to the gluten-free bagels. You might even hit pay dirt at your local pizza joint (if they understand the ins and outs of cross contamination). So yeah. There are some choices out there. Problem is, most gluten-free pizza sucks.

It's usually heavy on the chewy aspect. Or dry as dirt. With zero flavor. Yawningly bland. Certainly nothing to brag about. I mean, you wouldn't eat it if you didn't have to. You know what I'm sayin'? It's okay in a pinch. If you're famished on a Friday night. But it's not exactly inspiring.

So last week I started experimenting. I tweaked and baked. And lo and behold. A new gluten-free pizza crust was born.

And this one doesn't suck.

It might even deserve its own brand new clean and shiny pizza pan.


Homemade Gluten-Free Mac and Cheese

Gluten-free mac and cheese recipe from Gluten-Free Goddess- creamy, with real cheese.


Old School Comfort. Mac and cheese, Baby.

One of the first recipes I shared here on Gluten-Free Goddess was our old school, homemade, family style mac and cheese recipe. I won't mention how long ago that was, or how old the recipe actually is, darling. I first learned to make it in eighth grade Home Ec class (does Home Economics still exist? Do they even teach cooking in middle school any more?). Aside from these ponderings, and the unnerving sensation of years advancing, rolling, as Warren Zevon says, like a rockslide down a hill, I've been craving this simple mac and cheese like mad lately.

So I thought I'd post our latest version of it. Seems like old fashioned comfort food is the medicine I need lately.

Maybe you do, too?


Quinoa Stuffed Cabbage Rolls

Gluten free stuffed cabbage with quinoa and sweet potato stuffing
Quinoa stuffed cabbage. How's that for nontraditional?


It was a dark and stormy night... 

Wait. This is a recipe post. Let me start again. Got your cocoa? Are you settled?

Chapter 1.

The tight blue tiled kitchen glowed in the afternoon sun that slatted through the western facing junipers and spilled across the cupboards in a honeyed glaze so dazzling she had to lower her eyes to keep from squinting as she grabbed a frayed dish towel and cracked the oven door an inch. The scent of sweet potatoes, apples and onion laced with garlic, nutmeg and cinnamon filled the room. She tugged her worn wooden spoon from the mustard crock and stirred the tender jewels bathed in apple juice. For the first time in days she felt connected to something tangible.

Chapter 32.

How does a person know this? To peel a cooked cabbage leaf so gently and not tear it. To spoon a spiced and savory filling into its center, wrap and roll it, snugging it into the curve of a empty dish. A row of translucent bundles. Plump. Expectant. Longing for sauce. Which Sophie, Irina or Josefa first boiled a cabbage and thought to stuff a single leaf? What brilliance is this, what simple wisdom born of practicality - or whim? Is memory in the head or in the heart?

Perhaps it lingers in the hands.

Chapter 13 1/2.

When the outside world turns on its axis and flirts with the taste of hate and the ancient flame of violence is paraded as remedy, when the color of your skin or your eyes or your state divides you from your neighbor and you tread in the quicksand of suspicion and anger- let go, Brother. Just breathe, Sister.

Trust the faith you so fervently stoke. If your faith is true and clear will it fail you? Or  the harder, deeper question is, will it blind you?

Listen as a child, aware of the bigness, the intricate complexity that weaves a reality not always aligned to your expectations. Loosen your grip on your assumptions.  Think about the stars and how your very atoms are stuff of the universe.

Beware of darkness. Choose love.

Stuff a cabbage leaf.


Best Gluten-Free Pancakes


Gluten-Free Pancakes and Maple Syrup - for a gluten-free diet

Sunday Worthy Gluten-Free Pancakes.

When I was small and clueless I ate the world in tiny bites. I chewed apologetically, counting each deliberate grind in time to the spiral beats of a song in my head that only I could hear. A tune not unlike a mosaic of bird calls, and the powdery flutter of wings feeding on the garden lit by young Mozart's star.

Colors were a mysterious and spiritual language infused with deep logic and meaning. A lime green Jello box invited tunneling and confusion, but the sweet brush of balsam as I sought asylum beneath its rooted symmetry petted my pining fatherless heart.

Trust is green and hard to paint, but so is betrayal.

Not only the betrayal by others. The betrayal you participate in. The hammering of your spirit self into propriety. The brittle, safe shell you construct and will curl inside for the rest of your life. You inhabit it sullenly. Sometimes willingly. Because sometimes it works. Mostly to fool them. Fool them into thinking you are someone else. Someone uncomplicated they can love.

Someone like themselves.

In order to keep this armor snug you must give up on certain pieces of yourself. The ugly, muddy parts those in charge find distasteful or irritating or inscrutable. What no one tells you is, you end up missing these rejected quirks and knots. And spend the rest of your life searching for all those abandoned bits and wrinkles. The shining fragments of earlier music and jewels of petaled rain.

But if you are lucky you meet a painter.

A soul adept at conjuring a thicket within their non-judging arms. You learn about green and its secret origin. How to stir ivory black with cadmium yellow and a teaspoonful of cerulean. You dream of butterscotch pines and inhale and your spirit-body becomes too big for the worn out shell.

So you crack it.

Sideways at first. Sticking out fingers and elbows when no one is looking. Digging out fragments long forgotten. Rubbing off neglect and holding wobbly pale parts of yourself closer to the sunlight.

And you meet yourself for the first time in a long, long time.

In the rays escaping.


Gluten-Free Chocolate Cupcakes

Gluten free chocolate cupcake recipe with coffee flavored icing

Cupcakes for the In Crowd...


Gluten-free cupcakes are hot. Or should I say, HAWT. Tack on vegan status, too, and you've got a trend worthy of the most BoHo WeHo GoGo. So I'm reprising this chocolate cupcake recipe to tempt you into baking this weekend.

These little beauties remind me of Devil's Food Cake. Dark, moist and chocolatey.

So grab your inner Domestic Goddess by the hand and stir up some trouble.

But before we get to (what happens to be my favorite) chocolate cupcake recipe from the archives, I want to share something. Maybe it's the waxing moon, that cyclic siren pulling us toward wholeness, to embracing our shadow, urging us to let go, shed the outworn for the sake of authenticity. Or maybe it's the fresh start of a new year, possessing me with cravings for newly sharpened pencils and thick stacks of paper, clean as a cloud, conjuring flashes of new beginnings.

And yes, there will be baby pictures.



Gluten-Free Recipe Love- Be My Valentine




Celebrate love Gluten-Free Goddess style.



Be My Valentine, Sugar.


I've said it before. Chocolate is love. And any excuse to celebrate love (or chocolate) is high on my priority list. Here are some of my hand-picked favorite gluten-free chocolate recipes for Valentine's Day- or any day you feel like celebrating love.

Which, in my corner of the world, ought to be every day.


Cacao! conquers all.