"Preach not to others what they should eat, but eat as becomes you and be silent." -Epictetus, Greek philosopher.
There is so much trash talk about the way other people eat - the vegans cry out, "Meat is murder" and the meat eaters chant, "My food sh*ts on your food." If you enjoy what you eat, then please take a bite, and don't talk with your mouth full.
I am not a vegan, or a vegetarian. I am a Picky Eater. I eat meat. I hunt, and I am a good shot. If I didn't kill it, someone in my family did. It is lean and wild and organic and free range and local. When it was alive the animal never got branded, castrated, vaccinated or drugged to grow faster. It never ate chicken feet, brains, poop, antibiotics or government subsidized corn. It was good and dead when it was butchered, and whatever didn't go in the freezer got left for the scavengers. Exposure to fecal matter was minimal. I am willing to assume the responsibility for the life it costs to eat meat. I eat eggs - from the chickens in my back yard. I eat (and drink) milk, cheese and yogurt - not much, and from local organic sources. I eat all grains . I am very lucky not to have any food allergies. I don't eat fast food, and I don't eat or drink anything with high fructose corn syrup in it. I like broccoli. I don't like pineapple. I eat tomatoes, but only garden tomatoes. I like very few kinds of cake. I like gelato better than ice cream, and sorbetto best of all. Ever since i was a very little girl, I don't like my cake and my ice cream to touch. I don't like nuts in my brownies. I am a Picky Eater, and a spoiled one at that. AND, I am very, very grateful for the quality of food I enjoy, and enjoy it I do - it is a tragedy to eat without tasting. And while I have plenty of criticism for a lot of food and food production, I do not criticize people for their food choices. I have a lot of choices, not everyone does. I enjoy my food, and I enjoy my eating habits, even my bad habits. Sometimes I enjoy those the most. My grandmother had a little wooden plaque in her house. It read, "My house is clean enough to be healthy and dirty enough to be happy." There is so much peace and happiness and balance in that simple statement. May we all achieve this balance in our diet - indeed, in our lives.
August 25, 2010
August 3, 2009
Nothing New Under the Sun
I don't believe I have ever had an original thought. I might say something out loud that other people are also thinking at the time, but most of the time that just makes me the first to put my foot in my mouth. There are times, though, when I do feel validated, or even vindicated when a topic of recent rumination shows up somewhere really cool - say, The New York Times. Well this week it happened TWICE.
We here at Chez Crowsfeet are up to our eyebrows in salad greens this time of year. Salad purples, oranges, yellows and reds, too. The garden is in full production. I was very very close to making this just a salad blog; making a different salad every night, taking a photo, posting the photo with the list of ingredients (wait a sec, isn't that called a recipe?). I decided it was too seasonal and too limiting. I knew I'd want to talk about a lot more food than salads. (I happen to have some strong opinions about cookies, and intend to share them here at a later date.) No sooner had I abandoned the 'Salad Chronicles' idea than I came across 101 Simple Salads for the Season in the NYT. No photos, but a lot of great salad ideas. I was tuned in to the cosmic salad frequency, and I was not alone. Maybe I'll still make a lot of salads and post them here. I won't be eating alone.
So I name my blog, write my first post and then discover Michael Pollan's most recent article in the NYT, Out of the Kitchen, Onto the Couch. Great article, go read it - in a minute. But the very last bit is a quote from a food marketing researcher named Harry Balzer (! - 4th grade humor flashback right here, with all due apologies to Mr. Balzer) who said, "I have the diet for you. It’s short, and it’s simple. Here’s my diet plan: Cook it yourself. That’s it. Eat anything you want — just as long as you’re willing to cook it yourself." Knock me over with a feather.
Am I just unwittingly part of a new trend? Run over by the Zeitgeist bus and never saw it coming? There are other trends that we are a part of that we didn't realize were trends at the time. We've had a vegetable garden for as long as we've had this house - 10 years. We have chickens. One of our dogs is of a breed that was quite obscure for a long time, and now it seems like we see them everywhere. But none of this was prompted by a desire to be trendy, or even an awareness that a trend existed. I certainly don't intend to start any trends. Like I said, I remain certain that by the time I have thought of something a lot of other people have, too. Michael Pollan's article suggests that home preparation of our food may be a cultural ritual in irreversible decline. I hope not. When I realized how much I miss making food I was not thinking of any cultural rituals or foodie lit or diet plans or any of that; it is something I enjoy that I've let slip out of my routine. Pollan's article made me feel like I might have an idea that other people might enjoy, too.
The image of a good knife and a glass of wine is so concrete for me; I am always happy when I have these two things in the kitchen and I am making food. I can be alone or have company, I might be listening to music or just the sound of my knife on the cutting board, the mixer, onions in olive oil, a wire wisk against a pot or a bowl. I might be cooking for guests or just my immediate family. I think I enjoy the food more because I've had that much more time to enjoy it; the process and the product. The act and gesture of preparing food for other people, and the family and social rituals of sharing good food are old and dear and transcend trends and hype and food on the TV. I hope I am not the only one who thinks so.
We here at Chez Crowsfeet are up to our eyebrows in salad greens this time of year. Salad purples, oranges, yellows and reds, too. The garden is in full production. I was very very close to making this just a salad blog; making a different salad every night, taking a photo, posting the photo with the list of ingredients (wait a sec, isn't that called a recipe?). I decided it was too seasonal and too limiting. I knew I'd want to talk about a lot more food than salads. (I happen to have some strong opinions about cookies, and intend to share them here at a later date.) No sooner had I abandoned the 'Salad Chronicles' idea than I came across 101 Simple Salads for the Season in the NYT. No photos, but a lot of great salad ideas. I was tuned in to the cosmic salad frequency, and I was not alone. Maybe I'll still make a lot of salads and post them here. I won't be eating alone.
So I name my blog, write my first post and then discover Michael Pollan's most recent article in the NYT, Out of the Kitchen, Onto the Couch. Great article, go read it - in a minute. But the very last bit is a quote from a food marketing researcher named Harry Balzer (! - 4th grade humor flashback right here, with all due apologies to Mr. Balzer) who said, "I have the diet for you. It’s short, and it’s simple. Here’s my diet plan: Cook it yourself. That’s it. Eat anything you want — just as long as you’re willing to cook it yourself." Knock me over with a feather.
Am I just unwittingly part of a new trend? Run over by the Zeitgeist bus and never saw it coming? There are other trends that we are a part of that we didn't realize were trends at the time. We've had a vegetable garden for as long as we've had this house - 10 years. We have chickens. One of our dogs is of a breed that was quite obscure for a long time, and now it seems like we see them everywhere. But none of this was prompted by a desire to be trendy, or even an awareness that a trend existed. I certainly don't intend to start any trends. Like I said, I remain certain that by the time I have thought of something a lot of other people have, too. Michael Pollan's article suggests that home preparation of our food may be a cultural ritual in irreversible decline. I hope not. When I realized how much I miss making food I was not thinking of any cultural rituals or foodie lit or diet plans or any of that; it is something I enjoy that I've let slip out of my routine. Pollan's article made me feel like I might have an idea that other people might enjoy, too.
The image of a good knife and a glass of wine is so concrete for me; I am always happy when I have these two things in the kitchen and I am making food. I can be alone or have company, I might be listening to music or just the sound of my knife on the cutting board, the mixer, onions in olive oil, a wire wisk against a pot or a bowl. I might be cooking for guests or just my immediate family. I think I enjoy the food more because I've had that much more time to enjoy it; the process and the product. The act and gesture of preparing food for other people, and the family and social rituals of sharing good food are old and dear and transcend trends and hype and food on the TV. I hope I am not the only one who thinks so.
August 2, 2009
I'm being followed; it's big and flabby and looks like a butt and it is right behind me!
I started this project with two goals; 1. to lose 25 pounds, and 2. get back into the kitchen. Contradictory, you may say, but I don't think so. Much to my horror, I have gained a pound for every year I am past the age of 20. I gained these 25 pounds exactly the same way everyone else has; with amazing ease... I did it by consuming more calories than I burn - no fad diets, no pills, no expensive programs or spa visits. Really. I was never hungry and it was fun. But as my BMI increased, something else important in my life decreased; the time I spend making food. You thought I was going to say exercise, or maybe my metabolism. We'll get back to those.
My husband and I both love to cook, and we're both quite good at it. But we are a case where opposites attract, because we have totally different approaches; I am a clean-as-you-go type, my husband is a kitchen-trasher. I need a clean and orderly space before I begin, he can prepare dinner for 6 people on 1 square foot of flat surface, with total chaos lurking just past the tip of his knife blade. I make sure I have all the ingredients before I start, he'll look in the fridge, take out 3 things and make dinner with them. We do have a clear division of labor; when he makes dinner, I clean up (sometimes I clean up while he is cooking, just to hang out with him in the kitchen - if this drives him crazy he's never said anything...). There are things that he makes, and things that I make: I make pies, he makes the flourless chocolate cake. I make homemade pasta, he makes nori rolls. I make the best brownies ever, he makes Stollen that makes my eyes roll back in my head. I can count on one hand the number of times I have cooked meat since I've been married; I brined and roasted a divine Thanksgiving turkey several years ago, I threw some beef scraps in the crock pot to make dog food last weekend, and I'm sure there have not been 3 other occasions in the last 12 years when I prepared animal flesh for human consumption. We each have "our" recipes. And we each have our favorite knife. But when we cook together, we share a brain; he'll hand me something just before I know I need it, I in turn will answer the question he was just about to ask. But my husband makes dinner much more often than I do. We've just slipped into that routine.
So I find myself just enough out of practice to feel a bit tentative in the kitchen, and just chubby enough to have thousands of dollars worth of clothes that I can't wear. I feel like both happened so incrementally that I didn't notice until recently, and things have gotten way out of hand. The good part is I know exactly what to do to achieve my 2 goals. I just have to start.
I have successfully lost extra weight before. I know what works for me and what doesn't. Moderation works. Deprivation doesn't. Eating exactly what sounds most wonderful leaves me satisfied, therefore less likely to keep eating in search of that perfect bite. Eating whatever is easy and convenient is the worst thing I can do. Eating all the ingredients separately and preparing and eating a dish with those exact same ingredients are wildly different. I could eat a head of lettuce and a chunk of cheese and a handful of nuts and still be hungry, but if I shred the cheese, chop the nuts, make a salad, pour a glass of wine and sit down, put my napkin in my lap, and really eat a salad then I feel like I have eaten. And I can then stop eating.
I am certain part of my weight gain is a result of cooking less - my relationship with food has become neglected; so we need to start with a good knife and a glass of wine and spend more time together.
So, I said I'd come back to exercise and metabolism. Here's what I know. Exercise is a key ingredient. It is not only a key ingredient in weight loss, but of a whole and healthy life. If I get up early and take the dogs out for a walk the rest of the day goes better; Last year I struck a deal with my doctor to run at least 4 days a week for 3 months before going on antidepressants; I ran and I didn't need the prescription. The more I run, the more I can eat. I love that part, but more important than that, the more I run the happier I am. Metabolism is a very complex process, but it responds to exercise, or the lack of it, just like any muscle in your body. Use it or lose it. And the older you get the less neglect you can get away with before your lazy ass becomes your really big lazy ass.
So I am going for a run, and then I'm going to make dinner.
Cheers.
My husband and I both love to cook, and we're both quite good at it. But we are a case where opposites attract, because we have totally different approaches; I am a clean-as-you-go type, my husband is a kitchen-trasher. I need a clean and orderly space before I begin, he can prepare dinner for 6 people on 1 square foot of flat surface, with total chaos lurking just past the tip of his knife blade. I make sure I have all the ingredients before I start, he'll look in the fridge, take out 3 things and make dinner with them. We do have a clear division of labor; when he makes dinner, I clean up (sometimes I clean up while he is cooking, just to hang out with him in the kitchen - if this drives him crazy he's never said anything...). There are things that he makes, and things that I make: I make pies, he makes the flourless chocolate cake. I make homemade pasta, he makes nori rolls. I make the best brownies ever, he makes Stollen that makes my eyes roll back in my head. I can count on one hand the number of times I have cooked meat since I've been married; I brined and roasted a divine Thanksgiving turkey several years ago, I threw some beef scraps in the crock pot to make dog food last weekend, and I'm sure there have not been 3 other occasions in the last 12 years when I prepared animal flesh for human consumption. We each have "our" recipes. And we each have our favorite knife. But when we cook together, we share a brain; he'll hand me something just before I know I need it, I in turn will answer the question he was just about to ask. But my husband makes dinner much more often than I do. We've just slipped into that routine.
So I find myself just enough out of practice to feel a bit tentative in the kitchen, and just chubby enough to have thousands of dollars worth of clothes that I can't wear. I feel like both happened so incrementally that I didn't notice until recently, and things have gotten way out of hand. The good part is I know exactly what to do to achieve my 2 goals. I just have to start.
I have successfully lost extra weight before. I know what works for me and what doesn't. Moderation works. Deprivation doesn't. Eating exactly what sounds most wonderful leaves me satisfied, therefore less likely to keep eating in search of that perfect bite. Eating whatever is easy and convenient is the worst thing I can do. Eating all the ingredients separately and preparing and eating a dish with those exact same ingredients are wildly different. I could eat a head of lettuce and a chunk of cheese and a handful of nuts and still be hungry, but if I shred the cheese, chop the nuts, make a salad, pour a glass of wine and sit down, put my napkin in my lap, and really eat a salad then I feel like I have eaten. And I can then stop eating.
I am certain part of my weight gain is a result of cooking less - my relationship with food has become neglected; so we need to start with a good knife and a glass of wine and spend more time together.
So, I said I'd come back to exercise and metabolism. Here's what I know. Exercise is a key ingredient. It is not only a key ingredient in weight loss, but of a whole and healthy life. If I get up early and take the dogs out for a walk the rest of the day goes better; Last year I struck a deal with my doctor to run at least 4 days a week for 3 months before going on antidepressants; I ran and I didn't need the prescription. The more I run, the more I can eat. I love that part, but more important than that, the more I run the happier I am. Metabolism is a very complex process, but it responds to exercise, or the lack of it, just like any muscle in your body. Use it or lose it. And the older you get the less neglect you can get away with before your lazy ass becomes your really big lazy ass.
So I am going for a run, and then I'm going to make dinner.
Cheers.
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