Sunday Experiment - Dried Lentils
I’ve always been one for taking the easy road when it comes to cook - yes i get on people about cooking, and eating more than cereal for dinner, but when it comes down to it, most of the recipes are really easy and quick to make (because lets me honest people - i am up against 5 minute microwave dinners). So, when someone suggested that i try getting dried instead of canned lentils, i put off trying it for a while (they have been sitting in my cupboard almost a month now). To try and make my life a little easier in this task, i did, however, get “sprouted” lentils. Not sure of the extra health claims on sprouting legumes, but, i did like the “soak for half an hour” instead of hours and hours.
I spent today cleaning, so i figured it was a good day to give it a go. Around 4:30, i dumped some into a bowl and covered with water - took my dog for a walk and when i was back, they looked soaked (i guess, wasn’t sure, but the water changed colour, and they looked bigger than before). Next, i cooked them according to the instructions, which in this case was 20 minutes of boiling. After 20 minutes, i tested, and they were done (i was kinda surprised to be honest) and the taste - so much better than the canned stuff - honestly - really was amazed, they got this slight cheese flavour to them - were so good!
Now for the fun part! what did i make with them...Spiced Pork Chop with Lentils.
Who am I now?
I’ve watched the series finale of “Bones” more than once over the past week. It was a well-done end to a long running show, but that isn’t what made me want to watch it over and over again. The main character, Temperance Brennan (Bones) suffers a head injury during the first few minutes of the episode and what follows echoes so much of the last year and a half of my life that the words she spoke made me cry. Tears of understanding, tears of empathy, but most of all tears because the writers of the show were able to put into words what I’ve struggle with for so long – losing an ability that makes you you and the fear that it may never return.
I’ve had many times in my life when I’ve felt lost, like I wasn’t sure who I was or where I wanted to go next. Times when I struggled to find purpose and belonging, to feel as if the fight forward was too hard of a struggle. I’ve gone through pain, loss and utter despair. But until last year, I never realized what it is like to lose the person you were.
I won’t go into details, but I was in a car accident and hit my head. What went from people (doctors included) telling me that things should go back to normal within a couple weeks has now turned into more than a year and the phrase, “back to normal” being replaced by, “different than before, but still functional”. The fear that I will not return to myself is a real one.
I loved cooking. I loved coming up with new recipes and sharing them with you all. I loved being able to look through cookbooks and magazines to get ideas and knowing how to pare them down to single size servings. I miss being able to have two pots of the stove at once – stirring this while browning that. I miss being able to follow a recipe without having to check off steps. I miss knowing that what I am about to eat won’t taste disgusting because I added something twice. I miss cooking making sense.
Bones feels this same loss. While working with her team she says,
“I remember the day each of you was hired. I remember the name of every victim I’ve ever identified. I remember just how meaningful this work can be. But I don’t remember how to do it.”
That’s how I feel about cooking these days – I can remember cooking a recipe, I can even tell you the steps I need to follow, but I when I go to actually do it. It is a weird feeling to know that you are able to do something but just can’t figure out how to do it. There was a day when I actually boiled broccoli dry (and burned it badly) because I was struggling to thicken a really simple pan sauce. It was something that I never would have given a second thought to before – it all just came naturally – but now I was stuck with the smell of burning broccoli and a really runny sauce.
It’s hard to feel like you have lost who you are. My crazy good memory is gone. I can no longer close my eyes and recount almost word for word a conversation from years ago – instead I struggle to repeat a sentence back to you or remember a list of 5 words. Along with losing my cooking skills, I’ve lost so much more of what made me me. This is another thing that Bones struggles with in this episode, and she puts it very well when she says,
“So much of my life, my intelligence is all I’ve had. I may not have had a family, but I understood things that nobody else could. My brain, the way I think, is who I am. Who I was… I mean, if the thing that made me me is gone, who am I?”
I still struggle with that question, “who am I?” and trying to figure out how to take that person back into the world. How I defined myself is no longer the person that I am and I’m not sure how long it will take to figure out the person that I am now. I hold out hope that I will regain some (I understand it won’t be all) of what I’ve lost and I hope that one day I can return to cooking great meals and sharing them with people, but for now, I find grace in knowing that even if I can’t be who I was, I can be who I am now.
I’m the healthiest i’ve been in 10 years, but there was a but....
I had a physical a couple weeks back along with all the yearly blood work to make sure that things are ok - or in my case (and the case of many women with PCOS) making sure that things are not getting considerably worse.
I walked out of the doctor’s office upset. I had gained weight. Not a surprise since lately i’ve been feeling like my PCOS is getting worse - odd food cravings, hair issues and many other PCOS issues that I’m sure most of you don’t want to hear about. I left her office sure that my cholesterol was probably up again, that my blood sugar and A1C were probably not great...was sure I must be on my way to type two diabetes. I WAS SURE.
Weight is something that most people with PCOS struggle with - not our faults, we have so much acting against us. I’ve managed to keep my weight normal over the past 5-6 years (went from overweight to underweight and struggled to find the right balance). The weight gain bothered me a lot. I was sure it was telling me I wasn’t trying hard enough, was giving into the cravings too often, wasn’t careful to manage my carb vs protein intake. It was telling me I failed. I WAS SURE.
I waited for my doctor to make that call I’ve always dreaded - she was going to call and say she needed to discuss my results. She was going to tell me my LDL cholesterol was up, my HDL cholesterol was down, my triglycerides were horrible and that my fasting blood sugar was borderline. There was no doubt in my mind. I WAS SURE.
That call never happened. In fact, I heard nothing. I even knew a copy was faxed to my dietitian and I didn’t hear from her either. I grew suspicious. It must be bad..but I knew from my past that medications weren’t an option because of my liver not getting along with them....”my doctor and dietitian must have spoke about how to handle things....that’s it” I told myself. It’s so bad that they were coming up with a plan and my dietitian was going to talk to me when I saw her. I WAS SURE.
I gained weight - things must be bad. I WAS SURE.
I was scared to death to see my dietitian (and for the first time ever not because we were discussing coffee). I was scared she was going to think I lying on my food diaries. That I was secretly binging sugary carby things and not tell her. I was sure she was going to be questioning me on where I went wrong. I WAS SURE.
Then I had a shock. She told me how happy she was - how everything - EVERYTHING - was within normal range and some results were even picture-perfect-couldn’t-ask-for-more. I was confused. I had gained weight. I wasn’t sure...
I had to give this a lot of thought. I realized that being upset about gaining weight (my weight is still within normal range btw) had absolutely nothing to do with my health and that I had taken that one number, one factor that determines health and made it the only factor that mattered...and what made this worse. I know better. I know that my weight does not determine my health. I know that eating well, exercising and taking care of my body matters a whole lot more than a number on a scale.
I knew I had a choice to make. Do I want to fight to lose those couple pounds that really in the end don't matter? Do I want to push knowing that there is a good chance I’m not going to lose those extra pounds and still stay healthy?
There is a whole lot I fight daily with my PCOS, but I think I’m ready to say, “I choose healthy over skinny” and that I AM SURE.
Things are almost back to normal, and a huge thank you
If you read my previous entry a couple months back (ok more like 6 months back), you know that life took a detour for a while. Things are getting back to normal now, my nephew is home from the hospital and doing well and now that it is over, i am realizing that i have people in my life that are so amazingly kind, generous and thoughtful....even people i barely know.
Our of respect for privacy, i won’t name names, but i wanted to say thank you and tell the stories of simple things that mattered a whole lot to me during this time.
I mentioned in my last post how important food became - or more to the point, how important the easy ability to get food was. Every new mom knows how hard it is to make a meal....now image being in a hospital...how do you even grocery shop? cook? find time to even remember you are hungry. I cooked a lot for my sister, her husband, and another mom, but a couple times when i was sick (so banned from the hospital...stupid colds) there were people who stepped up. A friend i mostly know from twitter (and a once a year pickle swap) messaged me that she was going to be at the hospital and offered to bring my sister and her husband dinner. Such a simple act, but it meant so much. Another time, we were having a bad day - everyone was stressed - baby was fussy...then appeared a bowl of soup. Another mom who noticed how stressed we were brought us dinner - again, so simple but meant to much.
During this time, i also won the Royal Winter Fair pickle competition for the second year in a row (it’s a big deal). The spice company that i use for pretty much everything i make, Dion Herbs & Spices, sent me a wonderful congratulations gift of bunches and bunches of spices and herbs. The best part, given the situation and me cooking so much, they came in really handy and saved me many trips to the grocery store. They also helped me make amazing food that people raved over. Plus, i tried things i never would have bought on my own (winter tip...freeze dried herbs...just believe me on that one)
The number of people on twitter who reached out when they heard whispers about the situation still amazes me - the number of different churches who prayed for the little guy warms my heart - the people who i’ve never met face to face that i can truly call my friends and who stayed up for chat with me until the early morning....i can never explain how much that meant to me. I even had a friend send me the most wonderful care package (and it involved filling out customs paperwork to do so) that made me smile and know that people were there.
To all of you - what you did for me and my family - it mattered, it was appreciated and it shows how wonderful people can be to each other. Thank you.
Two months later: when abnormal becomes normal
My freezer is more full than normal - not with frozen veggies and meat that i frequently keep in there, but with ready made meals. And to help you understand why this is abnormal - not one of those meals are made for one person - typically, they are meals for 3-4 people.
Some of you will know the back story, for the rest, long story short, i’m an aunt now, and although in the long run my nephew will be a perfectly healthy kid, he’s had a rough start to life and has spent the first two months of his life in the hospital.
It’s been a stressful time for all of us full of many emotions, frequent worry and lots of praying. Especially for my sister and her husband, there isn’t time to cook. Life is now the hospital, then home to sleep. All of there energy is on caring for my nephew, not caring for themselves. I’ve realized that this is the life of parents with a child in hospital.
I cook because i can, i cook because i love them and most of all i cook because it’s necessary. i’ve come to realize that there is no better way to take care of someone than ensure that they have food.
So bear with me while i disappear for a while, and if you know someone who is spending a lot of time at a hospital lately, remember that there is no greater gift than food
A Tea to You
When i first moved into where i live now i found it really hard to get to know my neighbours. Most of them are seniors, and frankly, i would hear them talking about how a “young girl” like me “without a husband” could ever afford to live on her own (didn’t hold it against them, sign of their time i guess). But anyways, i didn’t want to be this strange girl that they barely said hi to in the elevator so when i hear that there was a knitting group on Tuesdays i thought it would be a great thing to join - i could knit and maybe that could be where we bonded (or they got to know me as me instead of the unmarried girl on the 15th floor).
They were a little slow to warm up to me, but eventually they started to like me - i mean, i could knit so i must be somewhat normal, right? There was this one older lady, Victoria, who i really got along well with. She loved football (her husband used to play for the Montreal Alouettes way back in the day...being an Argos fan i didn’t hold that against her) and there was this one time we were watch a game and i almost spit out me tea when she said, “ummm there is something about a man’s ass in football pants” not exactly something that i was expecting out of an 80 year old’s mouth (there were also comments about certain men who could “put their shoes” under her bed that caught me off guard). She was great and i really liked talking to her. Although her husband had passed away years before i met her, she still loved him in a way that i found unbelievable in a way - they were true soul mates. We shared secrets - she was one of the first people who knew i was sick, one of the first people i shared my past with and i wasn’t afraid to tell her things - i knew she wouldn’t judge or try to tell me what to do - she knew how to listen and just be there.
Another one of my neighbour called me one day while i was at work - Victoria had a heart attack, but she was going to be ok...i guess ok at 80 is a relative term - as in “not dead”. Her health was anything but after that...her kidney’s weren’t working well, she couldn’t cook for herself anymore and had a home care nurse coming in during the day to help out. I went up to her place every day after work and we would have a cup of tea. I Met her sons and they told me how much she talked about me and our evening chats....I came home one day and the security guard at the front desk stopped me...she was gone. The nurse had found her the next morning, sitting in her chair where i had left her after our tea the night before. It’s funny to lose a friend and it not be an accident - i was 26 - i lost friends to accidents, not to normal causes.
Her son’s knocked on my door about a week later with boxes and boxes of her knitting and crafting supplies. I’ll be honest that it took me a long time to go through those boxes, but as i did i realized i was set for life when it came to knitting, crochet, and sewing needles. I also knew i had buttons and snaps in every size and colour.
Last week that came in handy - i lost a button (seriously, lost, no clue where it is) on a pair of capris but i figured i must have one in Victoria’s stuff...it’s been 6 years since she passed away.
Going through the button container i found this little note - probably tucked in there as a cute saying, but after having a not so great week where i’ve felt very alone, it was a wonderful gift. So yes Victoria, as i drink this tea, i think of you.
it’s your choice, but i do not get to choose
this is a bit of a rant...ok more than a bit, but be forewarned, this is something that had me quite peeved this week. if you have read this blog before, you know i have allergies - big ones - own more than one epipen and am never without benedryl type allergies. there are things i cannot eat or there is a good chance i will die. plan. simple. fact. i will die.
so last week i was at the grocery store, and i was in the “special section” you know the one that has mostly organic and health food things - not because everything i eat is healthy or organic, but because it is a lot easier to read an ingredient list that has 4-5 items than one that has 10-15, plus very rarely is the wonderful most likely going to kill me ingredient of “natural flavour” or “food starch” listed. But anyways, i was there picking up some cereal (yes i know, ironic) and this guy beside me was looking at molasses. he put the molasses back and started ranting about how he couldn’t find one that didn’t say “may contain sulphites” me being slightly naive said, “oh you have a sulphite allergy?” but apparently that wasn’t true, apparently even the small chance that something could have a sulphite in it meant that the world was coming to an end and he didn’t care about his health. fine, he’s entitled to his opinion, and he can choose to go without something he really wants on the off chance that it may contain a trace of something he deems “bad”, but he didn’t stop there. instead he then starts to pick appart the cereal i had in my hand telling me that it has corn in it, and that corn is “bad” for me and if i cared about my health i would choose a product that had potato or tapioca in it instead. i politely told him i was allergic to both of those, but not corn so i would choose the corn product. he went off on me - literally turning red and getting all worked up, telling me that people like me buying “crap” in the health section was the reason that he had trouble finding products that weren’t going to “ruin” his health.
i was taken back, figured he didn’t understand, so i said “it’s not that i am making a choice, i don’t have a choice - tapioca and potato make me have anaphylaxis, i could die” and he actually said, “your choice if you don’t care about your health, but i would still eat the tapioca product”. i probably got a little more angry than i should have, and said “so do i use my epipen before, during or after i eat the product that will kill me? i guess i call the ambulance before, since i won’t be able to speak after, huh?”
he called me something i will not repeat here, and walked away.
i don’t get it. i really don’t. why be that uptight about eating something? i’m not saying that everything is something people should be eating - but really, if it literally isn’t going to kill you the second it hits your lips - why be that angry about it?
i hear this from my friends who have celiacs as well - people who choose not to eat gluten but really don’t have to. i’ve heard my celiac friends mention how if they could eat that really crusty piece of bread and not get super sick they would in a heart beat. but they, like i, know better and stay away, forever jealous of people who can eat without having to ask a million questions, get eyes rolled at them like they are a pain, and still hope and pray that what comes to the table doesn’t have a hidden danger in it.
we do not have a choice, most of you do, and fine, it’s your choice, but know next time you judge someone, know that not all of us have the luxury of that choice and will never understand your judgement of those of us who can not choose.
food for thought
ever since my life took an interesting turn 5 years ago, i’ve been a big believer in intuitive eating. you can google it if you want to learn more, but the premise is, pay attention to your body when you eat, if you listen you will know what and how much you should be eating. it is something that has helped me get past many many hard times - helped me stay healthy. it is eating without “food rules”, diets or other odd made up concepts that just don’t work. it is eating because you are hungry, because food is enjoyable, and stopping when you’ve had enough. the “eat like your grandparents diet”? it’s that - pay attention to how you feel and you will know what’s right.
this week i had an interesting conversation - one that has left me thinking a whole lot about the concept and brought up things that i’ve mentioned in this blog before - how hard it is to eat intuitively without rules when my allergies and health problems sometimes dictate rules. i’ve written about my allergies before and i’ve written about my struggles with eating on other blogs but i’ve never really written about the fact that i have PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome) and this is where the idea of eating without rules get confusing and complicated. there are many things that PCOS affect health wise, but the big one that most of us deal with is insulin resistance - it causes weight gain, weird blood sugar swings and really strong cravings for carbs - and i mean REALLY strong (crying because i want a cookie and don’t have access to one happens, a lot). there are times when even if i listen to my body, it tells me lies. it tells me that it wants sugar, large amounts of glorious sugar that will in turn make me sick when my blood sugar skyrockets then drops like a ton of bricks. we have arguments sometimes. i know i’ve eaten enough but it wants more. sometimes i win by trying to tell it that it’s just confused, and sometimes i lose when it decides to drop my blood sugar (and therefore dropping me onto the floor). it’s hard to tell when it is telling the truth and when it lies....and it’s frustrating. somedays i can eat almost exactly the same time, exercise the same amount and still one day i will be fine and the next day not. my body lies, my body plays games and sometimes, just sometimes, i am sure it hates me.
i’m struggling right now. it’s scary to know that you’ve worked so hard to become healthy again after being so ill for so long and know that there is a possibility that even if you try really really hard that sometimes it won’t matter. that even on days you are “perfect” it isn’t enough.
so many of us suffer silently...”female problems” are not something that is acceptable public conversation, but the truth is, i wish i could scream about it, scream about how someone making a comment and losing or gaining weight makes me want to go off the deep end. how someone questioning the fact that i eat 5 or 6 times a day and how if they “did that” they surely “would be fat” makes me feel as if i’m going to gain weight at any minute now ballooning up into just another “statistically confirmed risk group” i want to scream that i just want to eat like everyone else, i don’t want to watch my protein to carb ratio, i don’t want to have to check my blood sugar sometimes and i really don’t want to have to remember to bring candy with my when i go for a walk with my dog “just incase” my blood sugar drops.
i want my body and i to call a truce...
2013 - an interesting year
The year started off with a very interesting start. Late December 2012 after a stomach flu, i gave up coffee. Let me be a little more specific...i gave up a 20 cup a day i will cry if i don’t get some coffee addiction. No one (including me) thought that it would last, but it did. 2013, the year i didn’t drink coffee....i’m still in shock.
Yes i put post-it notes in my washroom to remind me i ate beets. Turns out people think this is funny, personally, i think it’s practical. People remember this more than my cooking for one recipes.
I lost two coworkers this year - two friends really. Both left far too soon and very tragically. The first happened in April. I was having a rough month to begin with - was feeling so very lost after a very horrible medical appointment. How does one deal with being told that something that affects so much of your life and causes so much pain is permanent, unchangeable, and that you are considered a success story? it was only a couple days after that the the first person passed...or maybe i should say “went missing” because that was the first part....probably the hardest part. Ever been around a bunch of people who know, but don’t talk about it? No one talked about it - even when she was found - no one really talked about it. Was a strange experience and one that i think changed how i look at many of my co-workers. Yes life goes on, but hurt doesn’t not exist just because it does.
The second co-worker passed away in the summer. A couple days before i had an argument with him over a map - a map that was bright pink. I think the colour of the map highlights how most argument are ridiculous and regrettable. It makes me think twice about how i talk to people, how i get frustrated, and how you really have to think that what you say to people really might be your last words. I hope he knows that i really did like him. His willingness to always help, the kind phone calls when he knew you were having a bad day, and i will always remember the time i was having a really hard time with some hotel staff during a conference and he said something in spanish (i still don’t know what he said) but the hotel staff were really nice to me after that (woohoo markers for flip charts that aren’t dried up!). I wasn’t at work when i found out he passed away. I actually was checking emails while on the subway and saw the company wide email. I now realize that people in the subway wearing sunglasses aren’t always “trying to be cool” sometimes they are there to hide tears.
My mother retired this year and my parents sold their house. I lost my garden, i lost the place that i would run to when life was scary, i lost the ability to just drop in on my way home after a stressful day. Life changes, but sometimes it is scary when you see what you are losing.
I almost lost a third coworker and friend. Waking up that morning, to the email i read made me sick, literally. I texted and begged and made him send me pictures to prove he was where he said he was. In the end, i wore shoes that hurt my feet (but will admit they were pretty) because i didn’t lose him and kept my word that he could pick out shoes for me. Mental illness hurts a lot of people. This is another thing that people don’t talk about and really should. I’ve lost a lot of people i know to it - one of the deaths mentioned above probably was that kind of loss. Don’t think you are alone, don’t stay silent - i much rather lose my job and people’s respect than lose another friend to suicide. It’s not an rare problem, it’s a not spoken about one. I refuse to stay silent.
I make pickles - and it turns out that i make really good pickles. I entered the Royal Winter Fair this year - first time, i wanted feedback really, never thought i would win my category, but you know what happened? I ended up winning Judge’s Choice! I’m still in shock.
The end of the year was an odd one, but one that i think made me realize a lot about who i am and who the people around me are. I don’t want to keep secrets just because the truth makes people uncomfortable. I need for 2014 to be more about me. It is something that i’ve never really been good at - saying what i need, not trying to please everyone else around me, and saying no - no i won’t keep my mouth shut, no i won’t keep quiet. My life is about me - it may have taken me a long time to realize that, but my life is mine and not there for the approval of others.
I’m not sure what’s in store for 2014 but i do know that there will be a lot of change.
Fall weekends with family
It was something we did every year when we were young - a trip to Cambridge to go apple picking and get a pumpkin. Times changed, we grew older, and as teenagers the idea of going out in a field to get apples and pumpkin when they were readily available at a store was lost on us. It’s probably been 20 years since as a family we did this, and i’ll admit, i truly did miss it.
Trees full with apples
Hands reaching in to pick, always surprises me that little twigs can hold up something so heavy
And piles of pumpkins of every shape and colour
And who knew old world country stores still existed (there may have been butter tart consumption shortly here after)
Then home for dinner (my aunt makes the best cheese sauce EVER)
And of course, fresh baked apple pie.
Dear Other Food Bloggers, I’m Jealous.
That is my epipen. It is always with me no matter where i go. I’ve used it more times than i am willing to admit, and trust it with my life. I have food allergies and it makes me jealous of most of you.
When i see the instagrams or twitpics of what you ate at a new restaurant, or i read your latest recipes, or i hear about how you tried something new, i feel a jealously that most of you may never understand. I’m not jealous because that particular night you ate it and i didn’t, i’m jealous because i’ll never get to eat it, try it, share in the excitement i read about.
It makes me mad, sad and sometimes down right angry. I love food, but there are foods that can kill me. It’s ironic that the thing i love can be the thing that can be the end of me, but that is what it comes down to.
Every time i’m invited out to dinner i look up the menu before i go - can i eat there? are they nice enough that if i ask them to change something they will? Am i going out with people who will be embarrassed by the questions i will need to ask the waitstaff? Will the waitstaff roll their eyes and think that i am being difficult?
I’ve told people that invite me over for dinner that i like them to much to put them through the pressure of feeding me, or offer to cook myself. When people at work are snacking on something, i turn it down if there isn’t ingredient lists...or worse, if there is the very dangerous “natural flavour” listed - that one has put me in the hospital more than once.
I’ve learned that even things i’ve eaten for years can change (see my potato in my mayo post) and that sometimes, they are things that i love (Skittles, i still have not forgiven you).
I want to be like the rest of you, i want to try new things, i want to eat something because it looks amazing, i don’t want to think, and read, and ask questions before i eat things. I want to try your recipes without having to change things, or omit things. I want to be normal, but most of all, i want to not be so jealous of most of you and just share in wonderful food.
Funeral Egg Salad
i haven’t written anything in a long time - i could make a bunch of excuses, but what it really came down to was that my head was spinning so much that i lost interest in almost anything that i used to enjoy. Those of you who know me or who follow me on twitter have probably noticed the lack of talking about food, tweeting pictures of the newest one-ified recipe that i’ve created, and generally, lack of communicating in any way.
it’s been an odd time for me since February - a lot of change happened, and while that’s ok, it does get to be a little overwhelming. there was something that happened at the end of April that really hit me though, and it was that unexpected tragedy that made me realize (although not right away) that even through complete messed up chaos that there are some things that are always there, remaining unchanged throughout it all - in this case, “funeral egg salad”.
you don’t expect to hear about someone you know on the news. you really do not expect to hear about them as a missing person. it was an odd situation and i am not sure i knew how to process what i heard. this person who i had worked with for years, who decided to quit just months before in a very odd way, was now missing....and the part that made absolutely no sense was that she was such a creature of habit that everyone knew this would not end well - there was no way that she had just gone missing. i was at work when i heard that they had found her body - no one knew how to react - i am pretty sure i watched 20 people go through all the stages of grief all within 20 minutes. people were angry, confused, thinking it was not true - everyone wanted details but the only news reports we had just said that her body had been found.
days passed before we had any answers, and even then, things don’t completely make sense to any of us. she was found in a river, it looks like she slipped, maybe hit her head, it was after a big storm so the water was rushing, and she would have been wearing a jacket...winter clothes are heavy when wet. it’s not something that happens to people you know - it happens to strangers on the news.
her funeral was hard but it was the reception afterwards that made me think about things that you can trust to always be there even nothing else is or makes sense. every funeral i have ever been to always has little egg salad sandwiches on white bread. always. i am not sure that it is a “thing”, they just always seem to be there. a comforting food, a standard, normal thing that is always there when the world is a scary, unreal, chaotic place.
my world is changing a lot right now - in the past the chaos of it all would have lead me to not eat, live off coffee, forget completely about self care and although i did find myself sipping into old habits, i realized that it’s like the funeral egg salad, food heals, food comforts, it is something that is always needed, no matter how messed up or crazy life becomes. a little thing that helps bring routine back. a simple sandwich that stands for so much.
loss is random, but enviable, the egg salad at funerals are an established constant. always there, always the same.
Coming Home Late
It happens to all of us, we plan on getting home at a certain, planned on a certain dinner, but it doesn’t work out. Tonight was such a night for me. There are two choices when that happens. The first being that you make whatever you planned and just eat it later (my choice tonight) and the second is to re-plan what you are making. The choice really should be based on what you planned in the first place - food that is spicy, greasy, or just generally rich are typically not your best bets after 8pm (trust me, you will feel gross and really regret it). So what choices do you have on those nights if you are trying to avoid the old standby of cereal? In recent months tuna has become my go to food. Not so much tuna salad sandwiches, but tuna as a protein source in something else. some of my favourites include things as simple as adding tuna to Kraft Dinner (not the healthiest of choices, but in a pinch, it works) or adding tuna to a can of kidney beans, add a little olive oil, lemon juice, and maybe a green onion, and you have a really nice summery salad that is really high in protein and fibre.
This type of day is also a great time to use up left overs that you threw in the freezer. Cooked chicken is a great staple to keep around - especially if you ever roast a whole chicken - just throw the meat into the freezer. So things to do with it? Have a rice cooker? Add the frozen chicken into the rice cooker, with the rice, some chicken broth, and some curry powder - yes you might have to wait 20 minutes (go get a shower - it’s not like you need to watch a rice cooker - and chances are if you are late getting in - you need to relax anyways). What about frozen veggies? Add frozen veggies and the chicken to a pan and make some sort of a stir fry (even chicken with green peas tastes good if you are tired).
So my point is, no matter how tired you are, there are things you can make easily to avoid the cereal trap.
Cuz Breaking up is Hard to do....
Those of you who follow me on Twitter, Facebook, or know me in real life have probably heard that news. Most of you have been in shock, disbelief, and even denial that it is true, but yes, the rumours are true, I have stopped drinking coffee.
Those of you who don’t know me or my tweets are probably thinking something along the lines of “what’s the big deal” but putting it in perspective, I have drank upwards of 10 cups (sometimes 20) per day for almost 15 years. This was a big step for me, one that i am sure every medical person who knows how much coffee i drink never thought would happen. I’ve sat face to face with doctors, dietitians, naturopaths and countless others and when told that i had cut down have outright said “no” (or on a few occasions something more along the lines of “i don’t want to! you can’t make me!”).
Yes there have been cut down attempts in the past, some a little more successful than others, but overall, they were futile attempts - i didn’t want to change, and i definitely did not want to give up my wonderfully comforting cup of coffee....it saved me, it was there for me, it held me up when i felt myself crashing down. We had been through so much together...and i wasn’t ready to give up that support yet.
Coffee kept me going, was there when i thought i couldn’t push myself any further, was there when i was sad, mad, angry, stressed, frustrated or overwhelmed. And something that i rarely admit to, at one point kept me alive.
It was never that didn’t agree with the medical type people - i knew drinking that much coffee was not good for me, i knew that i was pretty addicted to caffeine, i knew that i was using it for a lot more than just a morning pick me up, but still i couldn’t bring myself to stop, to let go, to move on. I was grasping at the one thing that had brought me comfort for all these years, the one thing that had always been there for me, i didn’t care that it was a destructive relationship, coffee was good to me.
But the time came in December, maybe it was the stomach bug, maybe it was just that a lot of change had been happening, but even after the stomach bug was gone, i made the decision to stay away.
I tell you this story not to brag about how well i’ve done, but as a way of reaching out to other people who struggle. It’s not just that coffee - it was what the coffee represented. It’s that thing that you hold onto when you know it’s not good for you. That thing that you know you need to do but are too scared to even try. It is trying to be in control, even when you know that you are very much out of control. It is that thing that brings you comfort no matter how much it really hurts. It was letting go of a crutch that i no longer needed and knowing that people would be there to catch me as i stumbled.
and...i’m glad i did it.
A very important step when cooking beets
It is a step that many people forget, and it is that very forgetfulness that makes it so necessary. I am talking about my use of stick notes to remind myself the next morning that i ate beets...and I know I am not the only one that forgets. You know you all have that moment of panic at 6am the next morning, pre-coffee, barely awake, then red...something is wrong, you must be dying, but really, it’s what dyed you that is causing the ummm “issue”.
So after multiple freak outs - and living alone not having someone who can scream, “calm down you ate beets at dinner”, I came up with the stick note - it works, and yes I have been laughed at, but ask any nurse that works in an ER and she/he will tell you that freaking out over forgotten beets happens.
Beets are one of those things that work well for single cooks - most grocery stores sell them in bulk, meaning you can buy just one. They also naturally single serving sized (for the most part). The only downside is that they do take some prep, so the are better left to a weekend meal.
One of my favourite beet recipes works as a great side dish, or starter salad (all depending on if you serve it cold or warm). You will need:
- 1 large beet (or two smaller ones)
- 1 tsp olive oil
- 1-2 tbsp goat cheese
Start by cooking the beets. This is the part that takes the longest. Cut off the top and bottom of the beet, and place into a pot with enough room to cover the beet by about an inch. Add a little salt and boil until you can stick a knife into the beet and it feels soft (this typically takes an hour).
Once the beet is cooked, drain and place in a big bowl of cold water - once it has cooled enough you can handle it, you need to peel it. This is MESSY so there are two things I do - first wear gloves (non-latex please, I rather not die) and I peel it in the big bowl of water (your fingers are pink, but not too badly pink). The skins should come off easily if you just rub, but if not, use a knife.
Once peeled, cut into wedges. Here’s where you need to decide if this will be hot or cold.
If cold, drizzle with the olive oil and then sprinkle the goat cheese on top. Add salt and/or pepper if you like.
If warm, add olive oil to a pan and heat to medium. Add beets and stir for about 2-3 minutes...just enough to heat. Remove from pan and top with the goat cheese.
Whether warm or cold, remember the most important step...put a sticky note in your washroom.
Why is there potato in my mayo? and other questions i frequently ask these days.
Those of you that follow me on twitter will know about the rant i had yesterday. i went home for lunch, in an honest attempt to eat food that was safe - food near work is hard to find that isn’t a cross contamination hazard, and i hadn’t packed lunch that day, but the problem was, the mayo i bought, that i have been eating for years without a problem now contains potato starch - something that i am fairly allergic to.
i realized that i had eaten something i was allergic to quickly (after a “wait a minute my mouth is burning and there is no hot peppers on this sandwich” realization) and luckily i am well stocked in allergy medications, and took the meds in time, but it bothered me a lot. here’s a product i ate for years, and although it’s been drilled into my head that if you have allergies like i do you need to read ingredients each time, every time, there are somethings that i take for granted - condiments are one of them.
But back to my question, why exactly is there potato in my mayo? heard the news about the soaring price of corn? in an attempt to keep food costs down, many products are using things other than corn starch as a thickener or stabilizer, and truthfully, it is making my life extremely rough right now - potato and tapioca seem to be the starches of choice - and i am allergic to both. In fact, tapioca in a microwavable pizza put me in hospital for two days a couple years back (and at the time, i remember asking “why is a type of pudding in my pizza??”). There is really nothing wrong with those two substitutions, and really this post isn’t about it being wrong, it is more that food is changing - things that have been made one way for years and years aren’t anymore. Corn is an expensive food now (but a cheap source of fuel..ironic, huh?). Don’t take for granted that something you have eaten for years is still safe or still the same as it was before, the food world is changing, and the itchy, tired, not feeling well me, doesn’t think it is for the better.
i am close to only wanting to eat food i make myself (i’ve already had very nice twitter friends send me instructions to make my own mayo). we will have to see, but it scared me yesterday that something that i always thought to be so safe is no longer safe.
Memories and losses
This week ended up being one of many losses. I lost a friend to cancer, and we lost the family cottage to a forest fire. As my mind has tried to make senses of losses, and the irony that life will never slow down enough to not make you dizzy, i’ve started to realize that so many memories that i’ve had during times of loss have to do with food.
My friend taught me two very important cooking lessons. The first being that brussels sprouts are best with bacon, something i had never tried before cooking with her, and secondly, that maple syrup is amazing with any root vegetable. Those of you who are like me and cook frequently will understand this - we use to cook together, and not bump into each other even though we would be sharing a sink, stove, and cutting surfaces. I’ll miss having help during holiday meals (or having help that i don’t need to kick out of the kitchen after narrowly missing an accidental spill or stabbing).
Oh the cottage, the memories of growing up, and so many firsts. I made my first jam there, i learned that pie crust isn’t the same if you don’t use lard, and i learned one of those life lessons that you can only learn in the woods - if you slowly smoke ribs for 8 hours, a bear will steal your bbq that night and drag it far far into the woods.
Although i sit trying to make sense of things and say good-bye to those things i realize that there are things that i will never lose, and never forget each time i stay in my kitchen and recreate things that i would have never learned had it not been for those people and places.
No one is perfect (and yes, that includes me)
This picture was taken during a particularly stressful day - a co-worker of mine, who saw my frustrations felt bad, so he did the one thing that he knew would make me happy (or in his words “less likely to snap and hurt someone”) - he went to buy me a coffee. What does this have to do with me not being perfect? Those of you who know me personally (or read my copious amounts of coffee tweets) know that i have a thing for coffee. It’s a comfort for me, the thing that i reach to when i am upset or stressed or angry (but funny enough, not tired), it has been there for me during the most difficult times of my life - was my morning comfort right before big exams, my drink of choice during hellish work days, and being completely honest, there was a time in my life that i am pretty sure it was all i consumed on some days. Coffee is my weakness - the thing that i turn to, even when i know it’s hurting me (think 3 pots, not 3 cups per day) but although i can logically admit that, stopping myself from drinking a ton of it when things get rough seems something just outside my reach.
People who personally know me, know that i am a perfectionist. I HATE being wrong, I HATE not succeeding at something, i HATE not being the absolute best that i can be (even if that is completely an unreasonable expectation). But the truth is, coffee will always be my turn to when i need comfort that i can’t find anywhere else.
Do what it takes to make things easier
My birthday was earlier this month. Every year i make a decision to get something that i have been putting off but really want/need (last year was new flooring). This year, i decided it was time to replace the dishwasher that broke over 3 years ago. I went back and forth on this decision for a long time, basically because, well, it’s only me, do i really NEED a dishwasher (i already know that it is not even close to being environmentally prudent of me). But the more i cook, the more i realize, i spend a lot of time doing dishes (i timed it, we are talking 4 hours per week) so i decided that i could justify the purchase.
What does this have to with more than cereal cooking for one? The number one excuse i hear from people, especially singles, is that they don’t have the time. So my challenge to that? what do you do that you can change so that you do have the time?
I have some tricks that i’ve found over the years that seem to help me, which ones will help you?
- make a list of meals and grocery shop only once per week
- have a cooking day to cook things that will take a lot of time to cook (beans, brown rice, meat)
- use frozen veggies or veggies from the salad bar (saves the time of peeling and chopping, plus you will end up with less waste)
- reuse ingredients when you can (a whole chicken can make 3-4 meals, and if you are really busy that week, store bought roasted chicken is fine)
- make something that you can use twice (tuna to put onto a salad at lunch, tuna melt for dinner)
What are some ideas that help you make the most of your time?
The best part of cooking with dried beans
I used to think that cooking with dried beans was something that only a “special” kind of person does - and i am sure that there are some people out there that are about to place me into that category (or already have me in that category because i take the time to cook for myself). But, the more that i’ve cooked with dried beans, the more that i am realizing that it really isn’t that hard and truly has some great benefits to it as well.
The best benefit has to be how many varieties you can get when you go un-canned - the beans above, cattle beans, their colouring actually looks like a holstein cow! and really, what food that looks fun doesn’t taste better just because it looks better? Next, there is the whole BPA issue - and going to be honest and say i only know that BPA is not good, how much gets into food from cans, honestly not sure, and there is a huge debate on how much it really matters - but because i rather error on the side of caution, if i can make something without BPA, i will. And last, when you cook from dry, you control the salt, again huge debate, blah blah blah but, if you have a choice, why not use it?
Dried beans do need to be soaked, i usually stick them in a bowl of water the night before (but i have done it the morning of as well) so that they are ready for dinner. When i get home from work that night, i stick them in a pot, bring to a boil, reduce the heat and wait until they are tender (ranges anywhere from an hour to two hours). Now that i can hear groaning about how long that is going to take, let me tell you another trick - beans freeze well once cooked - just put them on a cookie sheet single layer, then put them into a container to use later - that way you can make a whole bunch and have them right ready for when you need them later.
So tonight’s dish? very very simple if you have pre-cooked the beans.
- 2 pieces of bacon
- one zucchini sliced up
- one shallot (or 1/4 cup of onion)
- 1 1/2 cups of cattle beans (or other bean of your choice)
Brown the bacon, then simply add in everything else - stir frequently for about 5 minutes, add a little salt and pepper, and you have a very simple more than cereal dinner for one