Aprovechar

I worked last Saturday morning and thus sent my husband to the neighborhood farmer’s market (which is only held on Saturday mornings) to pick fresh, local vegetables for our week’s meals. He came home with several veggies, including a bag of lovely fresh, shelled peas. He had picked the peas rather at random, but peas are a harbinger of spring, so I was very happy to see them. Instead of just cooking them as a separate side dish or entirely smothering them in some casserole, I wanted to show off the peas. (If you’ve only had canned or frozen peas, you might hate them. I did. I love fresh peas, though.) I decided to utilize a risotto to show off the peas.

What goes with peas? Mint–something I happen to have growing quite profusely in a pot on my porch. What else means spring? Asparagus. (Though it’s not grown in Georgia terribly often, it seems, it does remind me of spring.) And hmmm . . . what else to add? Well, I knew I’d be eschewing dairy in the meal, and I wanted something rich, salty, and strongly flavored to replace the aspects that cheese usually provides. I’d picked up some Niman Ranch bacon not too long ago and stuck it in the freezer. That’ll work, I thought.

Tonight was the night. I got home from work a bit later than usual, due to a homeowner needing help and then traffic in the rain. (When it rains, many Atlantans panic. “It’s raining! RUN HOME!” . . . followed by speeding and driving erratically . . . and crashing into one another.) And I had my photography class tonight to get to in a few minutes, so I put on an apron right away and got to work on dinner as soon as I walked in the door.

In one sense, risotto is a difficult weeknight meal. It does require you to stand over it and stir it regularly. You can walk away from it for 2 or 3 minutes but not much longer than that—and while you’re making it, that standing and stirring may feel a bit tedious. But I think risotto is actually a great weeknight meal (or weekend meal, for that matter), because it takes about half an hour to create a creamy, marvelous, one-dish meal that tastes as if you slaved over it for multiple hours. If you can sustain yourself for the half-hour (or 40 minutes, if you add chopping time) it takes to cook risotto, you are rewarded with an excellent homemade meal (and one that can be fairly healthy, depending on what you throw into it).

We loved this particular risotto. It does show off the peas and asparagus, and the flecks of mint and rich, crisp bacon meld nicely with the veggies and rice. If you decide to make this vegetarian or vegan, I would add some finely chopped soy-sauce-soaked tempeh to give you some saltiness and a texture contrast. But for you omnivores, I do recommend you use bacon from sustainably raised pork. (Besides the reasons mentioned in that article, I recently learned that pesticides and hormones are concentrated in fat. So using bacon grease and bacon from factory-farmed pork would give you extra doses of things you really don’t want to be consuming.)

Risotto Primavera
Serves 4-7, depending on serving sizes

6 slices organic/local/sustainably produced bacon
1-2 c. fresh (and only fresh!), preferably local peas, shelled
1 Vidalia onion, chopped
1 1/4 c. arborio rice (more or less)
3-4 c. broth/stock (I used organic beef tonight; I’ve used chicken, veggie, and mushroom before)
1 c. white wine
1 bunch asparagus, cut on the bias into 1″ pieces
4-8 mint leaves, finely sliced

In a large, deep, wide pan/pot (you’ll use it for the whole meal), cook the bacon on medium heat until mostly crispy. While the bacon is cooking, prep and measure the remaining ingredients. Remove the bacon to a plate. Leave the residual bacon fat in the pan on medium and add the peas. (If you are going vegetarian, I’d use olive oil for this . . . or take a different route and maybe try a bit of sesame oil.) Stir the peas into the oil, and cook 3-4 minutes. (Peas will still be relatively firm unless they are really super-fresh.) Using a slotted spoon, remove the peas to a bowl. Pour the rice into the pot, and stir it well to get it coated in oil. About a minute after you’ve started stirring, add 1/2 c. of broth to the pot. Stir it into the rice. When the rice has absorbed most of that liquid, add another 1/2 of broth. And so on. (Don’t walk away from the pot too long, but also don’t stress too much over the timing; it’s not rocket science, and your dish will be lovely, I’m sure.) After about twenty minutes of this process, add the peas to the pot again, and stir them in. Continue adding broth and stirring it in until the risotto, when bitten, retains a bit of nuttiness but also feels creamy in your mouth. (There is a range of acceptable chewiness; find what you like.) Add the wine 1/2 c. at a time and keep stirring. Meanwhile, heat an inch of water in a steamer pot; when it is boiling, put in the steamer basket with the chopped asparagus in it. Steam the asparagus for 3 minutes; then immediately rinse the asparagus with cold water to stop the cooking (unless your risotto is ready—if it is, move on without the rinse). When the risotto is ready, stir the asparagus into it to bring it back to hot. Ladle onto plates or into bowls. Crumble the bacon slices on top.

Voila.

By the way, my husband and I take photos of nearly all our homemade meals, but I don’t always have the time and energy to blog them. I am going to start uploading all of our food photos to my Flickr food photography page, which you can visit by clicking the photo montage on the left.  You can leave me comments there if you like, and if there’s a particular recipe you want to see on here based on the photo, you can let me know.

I’m proud of this girl.  This girl is a runner.  Look at her at her very first 5k last fall.  Awwww. Running has made her feel like she has the possibility to be an athlete.  It’s there inside her.  Even more so now, it’s there in her strengthened thighs, strong calves, and crazy-hard obliques.  It’s there in the way she holds up her head when she exercises–no shame, no self-consciousness . . . music pushing her on, blaring through her white earbuds.  This girl may not be fast or streamlined, but she’s worked hard for those muscles, and she has pushed herself to grow in strength and stamina.  I’m proud of this girl.

But . . . my allergies are wearing me out, y’all.

Exhaustion, an itchy nose, a throbbing head, a sore throat, sore and itchy eyes, ragged breathing—it’s not fun.  I know some of you were amazed when Georgia got strawberries way earlier than you did, and I really appreciate that we have amazing year-round produce here. (Really! We’re spoiled!)  But pollen season comes early here, and stays late.  And ever since the traumatic event of my husband being hit by a car (the same event that triggered an upswing in my celiac symptoms, the reason I got diagnosed), my allergies are extreme–even the best allergy drugs and the best naturopathic treatments can only do so much.  When I pass fresh grass clippings or (God forbid, seriously) someone riding or pushing a lawnmower, I have to hold my breath for fear of overwhelming sudden illness.  (My grass allergy? Right below anaphylaxis level.)

To be honest with you, I haven’t run for two weeks now.  And it’s not for lack of will; it’s just that I can’t do it right now—I can’t be outside that long right now, much less outside that long exerting myself.  5 minutes out there, and the throbbing/itching/aching rolls right in and lasts all day or night.  But I miss running; I’m also itching for that stress-relieving exertion that only exercise provides.  There’s little like being physically worn out to keep an easily high-strung girl a bit more mellow.  I’ve come to appreciate highly the little buzz of relaxation—the chill—that comes after a good work-out.  I don’t exercise for the way I feel while I’m doing it–oh, no.  I exercise for how I feel afterward.

So I decided to ask myself, Okay, what’s next? I can’t be outside, but I don’t want to go without exercising so long that not exercising becomes the habit.  After a bit of research, I’ve decided to join the gym at Georgia Tech, where my husband is a Ph.D. student.  GT is a lot more mellow in the summer than the rest of the year, so I should be able to actually find parking near the gym now, as long as I keep a roll of meter-feeding quarters in the car.   I’ve also decided to take the plunge–into the pool (You know the ‘96 Olympics? That pool), where I’ll be taking an intermediate swimming class at night one day a week starting in June.  I know how to swim; I love to swim; I could tread water for half an hour. (Probably, just maybe, having big boobs for a flotation device helps.)  But I’ve never been able to grasp proper swimming form, and I wish I did know.  In the meantime, I’ll be starting (next week!) a general work-out class that I’ll be taking with my husband.  They’ll do a test (if we choose) at the beginning to get our body metrics, including body fat percentage (and while many of you may cringe at the idea, I’m really curious after this 40-pound loss how that has changed).

That class is 3 days a week—from 5:30 to 6:30 on MWF.  I should be able to pick my husband up from work 5-ish, drive over to the gym, and maybe get in a brief treadmill run before the official start of the class.  We’ll work out till 6:30 and head home–where we’ll still need to eat dinner, of course.  (And a snack at work 3-4-ish is going to be pretty imperative now.) We’ll need some quick, easy, healthy (soy-free, dairy-free, gluten-free, egg-free) dinners to pull together on those nights, so I’m gearing up my brain in that direction. We can do this!

There’s only so much energy to go around, right? So this is going to be my summer of physical health.  I’m going to put a lot of energy into these work-outs, into planning meals around these work-outs, into getting all I can out of these work-outs. Despite the allergies and the smog and the extreme Atlanta heat/humidity, I’m going to keep myself in good shape this summer, boosting my upper-body strength as I go.  That means, naturally, that other things will have to take a backseat more.  It’s crazy to think we can do it all, because we can’t, and I won’t try.  I probably won’t be able to take another photography class until fall, when the weather/season will allow me easy-access outdoor runs again.  My apartment will probably stay a bit messier than it would otherwise. (We do have a cleaning person come in once a week or every two weeks to clean thoroughly–it’s a concession we’ve made to my allergies.)  I won’t be able to be as social on weekdays as I have been lately.  And all that’s okay, because it is very important to me to maintain the level of physical capability I have gained, and I am willing to sacrifice to maintain that.

We all have priorities; we have to have priorities. And this is one of my top priorities this summer.

Life is just buzzing along–busy as usual!  Here’s my meal plan for the week, which is, as always, focused on locally grown/produced foods, high in veggies, low in processed foods, generally healthy, and free of gluten, soy, eggs, and dairy/casein.

By the way, it looks like this loss of sheep and goat dairy may be long-term, so if you have a brand of cheez or cheeze or whatever (vegan cheese) that you love and that is soy-free, gluten-free, and casein-free, please let me a note in the comments.  I have tried nutritional yeast before but didn’t love it (didn’t like it, honestly); perhaps I need to try various ways to use it? I have VeganRella cheese (cheeze) in the fridge now but haven’t had the occasion to slice into it yet.

Sunday, May 11th

Brunch: Macaroon pancakes with banana slices and toasted pecans

To Do: Make gluten-free ‘honey whole wheat’ bread

Snack: PB&J sandwich

Dinner: Grilled Thai-ish organic, cage-free turkey burgers topped with local Romaine and avocado-based sauce; roasted sweet potato fries; cucumber slices with honey mustard vinaigrette

Monday, May 12th

Dinner: Gluten-free oatmeal with peanut butter and sauteed agave-sweetened strawberries stirred into it

Tuesday, May 13th

To Do: Work late (8-ish)

Dinner: Potato-bacon hash (using 1/2 pckg. of organic bacon) with steamed garlicky local organic broccoli and organic applesauce

Wednesday, May 14th

Dinner: Margaret and Brett over for dinner: Grilled organic chicken breasts with grilled local organic squash and cheese-less pesto pasta salad with organic carrots and organic broccoli

To Do: Prepare for photography class.

Thursday, May 15th

Dinner:  Risotto with local organic peas, organic bacon (using other 1/2 pckg. of bacon), and organic asparagus

To Do: Photography Class 8-10 p.m.

Friday, May 16th

To Do: Take comp time to have the day off. Go to a local U-Pick farmer for strawberries. (If anyone wants to take Friday off and go with me, let me know! . . . Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to find an organic U-Pick place for strawberries, though.) Place CSA order for lamb for wine party.

Lunch: Leftovers

Dinner: Herbed pizza crust baked and then topped with local strawberries/greens/candied walnuts/balsamic vinaigrette salad

Saturday, May 17th

To Do: Shop at Piedmont Park Farmer’s Market. Make jam from strawberries.

Lunch: Leftovers

Dinner: 3R Meal

To Do: Defrost venison.

Sunday, May 18th

Breakfast: Acai Chocolate Smoothie (made with Acai or mixed frozen berries)

Brunch: Simplicity circle meal

To Do: Work from 12-3 p.m.

Dinner: Beth J. over for dinner: Grilled (wild) venison tenderloin wrapped in organic bacon with grilled organic asparagus, grilled organic Vidalia onions, and pesto pasta salad

I’ll be submitting this meal plan to the Gluten-Free Menu Swap, which is hosted this week by Terri at Faking It Gluten-Free Style.

When I saw Heidi’s coconut macaroon pancakes, I knew I had to try them. When my friend Les saw them independently, she felt the same way. We integrated them in to our simplicity circle retreat meal plan. When the time arrived to make them, we altered them to be gluten-free and egg-free, and we hoped for the best.

And boy, were we rewarded. Yum. I have missed (normally eggy) macaroons, and these pancakes were so deliciously reminiscent of macaroons that I kept eating bits of broken pancakes (and, okay, a couple of whole ones) long before they made it to the table, long before we topped them with delicious Grade-B maple syrup. (’Grade A’ doesn’t always mean better–I discovered Grade B syrup when Dan and I wed in Vermont. It has a deeper, richer flavor that I almost always prefer.) To be honest, I’m not sure the pancakes even need the syrup. This weekend, when I make them again, I plan to top the pancakes with sliced bananas and toasted pecan pieces.

These pancakes are ‘pancakes’ in the sense that they are flat-ish and cooked on a griddle with a bit of oil. Think of the consistency of shredded potato pancakes, and replace the savory potato with sweet coconut. Or imagine a flattened macaroon with a bit more connective dough to it. Not your typical pancake, but delicious any way you perceive it. I’ll be making these again and again. . . .

Gluten-Free, Egg-Free, Soy-Free, Dairy-Free Coconut Macaroon Pancakes

(We doubled the original recipe to feed six adults a hearty breakfast; below is the doubled recipe, though of course you could halve it. We still had several pancakes left over when we were full, so the next day, we crumbled them and stirred them into banana bread dough. An excellent reuse! . . . If you want to put breakfast together quickly, I would encourage you to make the dough the night before and refrigerate it. And with this large a batch to cook, get two pans or a double-eye pan going if you can to speed up the pancake-cooking process.)

2 14-ounce cans of coconut milk
4 tablespoons honey/agave nectar
1/2 cup Bob’s Red Mill gluten-free pancake mix + 1 t. baking powder (or another gf flour mix of your choice + 4 t. baking powder)
4 cups unsweetened dried shredded coconut
scant teaspoon fine-grain sea salt
6 T flax meal mixed with 1 c. + 2 T. water (Whisk with a fork and let sit for two minutes before using)
1/4 cup organic brown sugar (Seriously, try the organic–it’s so much tastier.)

In a small saucepan heat the coconut milk and honey/agave, bringing it barely to a simmer.

In a separate large bowl, combine the flour, baking powder (using appropriate amount per flour you’re using), coconut, and salt. Stir the coconut milk into the flour mixture. Whisk in the egg replacer mix.

Heat your favorite non-stick (or very well-seasoned) skillet, pan, or griddle to medium-hot and brush it with a bit of ghee or other oil. Test for the right temperature. If a drop of water dropped onto the pan starts to dance, you are in the ballpark. Drop a heaping tablespoon into the skillet, and flatten it with a floured or dampened spatula. (Heidi says they’ll spread on their own, but ours did not.) Sprinkle the top of the cooking pancakes with a bit of brown sugar. Wait until the pancake bottom is deep golden in color, then flip with a spatula and cook the other side until golden and cooked through. Repeat with the remaining batter, adding more oil to the pan as needed.

(We kept the finished pancakes warm on an oven-proof plate in a 200-degree oven while the remainder cooked.)

A photo of me at around 215 pounds

A photo of me at 163

(To see more photos of my transition, click here.  As a side note, I’m a big proponent of the “embrace what God gave you” philosophy, so the above photo of me with straight hair is only the third time in my life I’ve let someone straighten it.  But what can I say–I was feeling a bit bored with myself that day!)

It’s been slow-going with my weight loss lately; I’ve spent a lot of time (as happens sometimes in weight loss) bouncing back and forth in a 2-pound range.  But this past week, my weight finally tipped down and stayed there (I weigh nearly daily) so that on Saturday, I weighed in at 163.6.  That brings me to exactly a 40-lb. loss from my Jan. 1, 2007 weight of 203.6 and a 60-plus-pound loss from my highest weight of around 225.

Ya think giving up all dairy starting last week might have had something to do with this downward nudge? I sure do.  Cheese—delicious, delicious cheese—averages about 100 calories and 6-9 grams of fat per ounce.  Do you realize how big an ounce of cheese is? Strictly speaking, it depends on the density of the cheese, but start with a single die for really dense cheese (cheddar, pecorino), and expand a little from that (2 dice) for cheeses that are less dense (mozzarella).  I knew this measurement—learned it many years ago in a bout of WW membership—and have utilized the knowledge to be careful about how much cheese I add to foods in the last year and a half.  However, the size of my cheese servings has crept up over time, I must admit.  And instead of utilizing a small amount of cheese as an occasional high-fat, high-calorie treat, I had started to indulge a bit too often purely based on calories/fat/cholesterol/etc., even if you discount the other dairy issues I have.  Obviously, that won’t be an issue now!

Everyone has to find what works for him/her, but if you want to read a bit more about dairy and how much of a role it should play in your diet/life, check these links.

As far as my general outlook on weight loss and myself at this point, I’m really in such a happy place with how I handle food.  My diet isn’t perfect (and I don’t aim for perfection these days), but I generally eat healthfully.  I have occasional indulgences and eat a small bit of dessert (an ounce of chocolate, a 2″ cookie—something like that) about every other day.  I pay attention to how I feel when I’m eating, and I usually stop when I feel the first nudge from my brain that says I’ve reached the satiety point, whether that means leaving half the food on my plate, leaving two bites on my plate, or finishing the whole meal (which only happens if I’m careful with portion sizes—even now, it’s easy to heap my plate too high!).  If I don’t stop when I hit that point, I regret it almost immediately when I grow stuffed and uncomfortable, and I keep that regret in mind when I am tempted to eat more than I actually want and need.   I still have to watch my relationship with food to make sure I don’t start relying on it to try to fill needs that are entirely unrelated to food (and which food can’t fill, anyway) while still enjoying—while thoroughly relishing, to be more exact—what I can have.  That involves making healthy food that’s fresh (almost always organic and often local), flavorful, and fun.  It involves moving my body on a regular basis.  It involves taking care of myself emotionally and physically to the best of my ability—of listening to myself.  I read an article a few months ago where the author, who had lost a chunk of weight, said that she knew that the more slowly it came off, the easier it would be to keep off.  That is aligned with my philosophy, as well; if I can’t live with how I’m eating forever, then losing weight utilizing it won’t help me in the long run.  And the skills and pleasures and growth related to this whole process have meant a lot more to me than just weight loss; they’ve meant becoming more of a self-actualized person.

My dairy-free month is going well so far—one might even say too well.  As in, it appears the sheep and goat dairy was contributing some, um, lower-GI upset to my life.  Will I be able to add a bit of it back in later—perhaps just some goat yogurt (since I can’t have soy, after all)? We’ll see.  In the meantime, it’s actually been a bit of a fun challenge to come up with dairy-free meals that keep me satisfied.  Here’s my meal plan for the week, which is, as always, gluten-free, egg-free, soy-free, and casein-free.  It also focuses on my locally available ingredients and fairly healthy dishes that are high in veggies and moderate in fat.

Monday, May 5th

Dinner: Tarragon tuna salad sandwiches (alas, no cheese this time) topped with Romaine lettuce and sliced tomatoes with a side of garlicky green beans; chocolate spice cookies

Tuesday, May 6th

Dinner: Easy Tamale Casserole (eliminating the meat, using flax meal egg replacer and a milk alternative mixed with lemon juice in lieu of buttermilk) with Amarinthia’s guacamole, and sauteed Southwestern mustard greens

Wednesday, May 7th

Dinner: Beth J.’s salmon with honey mustard/pecan/bread crumb topping and grilled artichokes and asparagus

Thursday, May 8th

To Do: Attend photography class from 8-10 p.m.

Dinner: 3R stir-fry

Friday, May 9th

Dinner: Go out to eat.

Saturday, May 10th

To Do: Work 9:30 a.m. to noon. Send Dan to the farmer’s market!

Lunch: Black bean taco salad with guac and lime vinaigrette

To Do: Make pancake batter for the next day!

Dinner: Take picnic to Shakespeare play with group of 10 friends (For those of you in the Atlanta area, it’ll be a donation-only showing of A Mid-Summer Night’s Dream recast into the early ’70’s!) Dan and I will take Thai-Style Lettuce Wraps with (egg-free!) coconut panna cotta (from Super Natural Foods) and a bottle of Riesling.

Sunday, May 11th

Brunch: Macaroon pancakes with bananas and pecans (recipe to be posted shortly!)

To Do: Make gluten-free ‘honey whole wheat’ bread

Snack: PB&J sandwich

Dinner: Grilled Thai chicken burgers on millet buns, sweet potato fries, and S’mores for dessert

Cooking Illustrated is hosting this week’s Gluten-Free Menu Swap; I’ll be submitting my menu plan to her momentarily!

This was the sequence of events:

One of the other simplicity members and I had both taken note of Heidi Swanson’s macaroon pancake recipe. We decided to make it on our retreat.

I took it upon myself to gush to the group about Heidi’s blog: the amazing photos, the natural ingredients, the quality recipes. Then I went on to tell the group that she has a new cookbook out, as well—and as I waxed poetic about the cookbook (which I have looked at repeatedly at book stores), I thought, You know, I should stop talking about it and just buy the damn thing.

So later in the weekend, when we stopped at the big independent bookstore in Asheville, I did just that. And tonight, I made a recipe out of the cookbook for the first time: Creamy Wild Rice Soup with Sweet Potato Croutons.

Yum. Rich, warm, flavorful, satisfying, and healthy, this vegan recipe is a real winner. Of course, I had to tweak it for my allergies and my taste—and I threw in some kale because we had it from our CSA and I wanted some green in there. Here’s my Sally-friendly version, with enormous credit to Heidi:

Creamy Wild Rice Soup with Sweet Potato Croutons
(Adapted from Heidi Swanson’s Super Natural Cooking)

3 T. coconut oil
2 t. red curry paste
2-3 cloves garlic, chopped
1 shallot, chopped
1 c. wild and brown rice mix, rinsed
5 c. water
1-2 orange sweet potatoes, peeled and cut into 1/4″ dice
fine grain sea salt
2-3 c. kale, rib removed, sliced into thin ribbons
1 T. turmeric
1 T. natural cane sugar
2 t. molasses
1 t. toasted sesame oil
1 t. sea salt
14-oz. can full-fat coconut milk
1 lime, sliced into wedges

Heat 1 T. of the coconut oil in a heavy soup pot on medium-high heat. When the oil is hot, add the curry paste, garlic, shallot, and onion and saute for 3-4 min., until the onion begins to soften. Stir the curry paste to disburse it well.

Stir in the wild rice and 3 c. of the water. Bring to a simmer, reduce the heat, and cover. Cook 40-50 minutes, or until the rice starts to soften and split. (Check by taste.)

Meanwhile, prepare the sweet potato croutons. Warm the remaining coconut oil in a skillet over med.-high heat. Add the cubed potatoes and a few pinches of salt. Toss to coat the potatoes. Cook 3-5 min. longer, until bottoms of the cubes begin to brown. Flip the sweet potatoes, and let another side brown lightly. Flip again. Continue until the potatoes are cooked through and mostly crispy on the outside. Turn off the burner.

When the wild rice is tender, stir in the remaining ingredients except for the lime juice. Let cook 5-10 minutes longer, until the kale is lightly cooked (still bright green) and the flavors have melded a bit. Ladle into bowls, being sure to dip the ladle in deeply to get the rice from the bottom. Squirt a bit of lime in each bowl. Sprinkle a generous helping of sweet potato croutons on each serving. Enjoy!

Because this dish is so rich in antioxidants, I’m submitting it to the Cooking to Combat Cancer event that Chris at Mele Cotte is holding.  If you want to submit a recipe for inclusion, Tuesday is the last day!

There are three elements complicating my meal plan this week:

1. My brother is in town visiting me and my husband.  My brother was once an extremely picky eater, but basic training in the Air Force cured him of that malady. (3 minutes to eat and you feel like you’re starving? Shovel in whatever’s in front of you and learn to like it.) However, even though he no longer literally turns his nose up at the sight of a vast array of foods, he would certainly generally pick more Standard American Diet foods than my husband and I generally eat. (I think Doritos and Mountain Dew might be his combination of choice.) Normally, I’d just be like, Great, he gets to experiment by experiencing what we usually eat. To be honest, I think I usually make some pretty damn good food, so other than people’s actual food restrictions or occasional extreme dislikes, I kinda serve whatever food I normally would and let the guests sort it out themselves.  But . . . my brother just got back from serving in Korea for several months, and while he was there, he ate all sorts of gross MREs.  (In general, he didn’t have a great experience; his time there included living with some insane stranger bunkmates and having the girlfriend he was planning to propose to break up with him.)  He’s home now and craving familiar foods, and I don’t want to entirely ignore that.  So I’m trying to make some comfort food for him without dissolving our regular routine.

2. This weekend, my simplicity circle (which has a post in draft form that I just need to finish up already!) took a retreat to the mountains of North Carolina.  We had some tasty food—and I did a lot of the meal planning, so I’m certainly not complaining—but the meals we had (plus desserts, plus drinks) tended toward the heavy side. If I eat one heavy meal in a day, the other is usually lighter.  So I came home craving some spa fare—quite the contrast from my expectations of what my brother desires.

3. I’ve been having some stomach upset, and after talking to Cheryl a bit and rechecking with my doctor, I’m going to try cutting out all kinds of dairy (including sheep, goat, etc.) on top of the cow dairy to see if every kind of dairy is contributing to my continuing illness.  From now until the end of May, that means no pecorino, no goat yogurt, etc.  (Of course, if I start feeling better, cutting out the dairy will be permanent.) It’s amazing (but natural) how quickly you come to rely on certain foods when you have to cut out others, and I’ve been no exception with my goat and sheep dairy consumption.  So this week’s meal planning took a bit more time than recent weeks, and I’m on the search for easy, relatively healthy, incredible-tasting, dairy-free meals that are also free of gluten, soy, and eggs to avoid my other allergens/intolerances. (Have one I should try? Please leave me a link or recipe in the comments!)

Here’s what I came up with for the week:

Monday

Dinner: Creamy Wild Rice Soup with Sweet Potato Croutons–from my latest cookbook purchase, Super Natural Cooking by Heidi Swanson (of 101 Cookbooks fame)

Tuesday

Dinner: Melissa’s Walnut Hummus (with honey in lieu of garlic–an experiment!) on Cabbage

Wednesday

To Do: Work late (7-ish)

Dinner: Dan makes Grilled Burgers topped with Avocado-Based Mayo Sub, Grilled Vidalia Spring Onions, and Grilled Yellow Peppers, and a side of roasted sweet potato fries

Thursday

To Do: First photography class!

Dinner: Carrie’s Belgian waffles (made egg-free) with Fresh Ginger-Strawberry Topping, Whipped Coconut Cream, and Organic Chicken Sausage

Friday

Dinner: Pizza & Movie Night: Homemade Vegan Thai Pizza with Peanut Sauce, Peanuts, Cilantro, Grated Carrots, Broccoli, Green Onions, and Sprouts

Saturday

To Do: First day of this year’s Piedmont Park Farmer’s Market!

Lunch: Muhammara-Slathered Kabobs (also from Super Natural Cooking) with chicken instead of tofu

Dinner: Go out to eat with peeps who want to see my brother

Sunday

Lunch: (Cheese-less) Cilantro-and-Brazil-Nut Pesto on Pasta with Chickpeas, Tomatoes, and Zucchini

Dinner: Ricki’s Nut Loaf with Roasted Red Potato Chunks and Garlicky Steamed Broccoli

As always, I’ll be adding my meal plan to the Gluten-Free Menu Swap.  Asparagus Thin is hosting this week’s Gluten-Free Menu Swap, so pop over to her site if you want to see other people’s meals!

When I was 22, I had my first major abdominal surgery. Prior to my surgery, I had been in a period of body loathing. Part of that loathing came from malfunctions in my body that were very frustrating (malfunctions probably related to the cancerous tumors I had removed along with one of my ovaries). I now know that what I was experiencing in terms of repeated infections, exhaustion, bloating, etc. were symptoms of what I had and my body trying to cope with that—but at the time, it was just enormously aggravating to not understand why things were going wrong. To put it in simple terms, I felt angry at my body for not taking care of me and working like it should. Additionally, various life events and internal events had led me to a stage where I wasn’t taking good care of myself in terms of eating, exercise, emotional health, sleep, etc. I was avoiding my body; I avoided touching it, looking at it, thinking about it, etc.

I had a long healing process from surgery. I don’t react well to incisions of any kind (that eyebrow piercing in college? bad idea), and despite my work to the contrary, my surgical incision—about 10 inches long across my abdomen, through skin, fat, and muscle—grew deeply infected. I won’t get into the details too deeply here (be grateful, unless you’re into gruesome things), but having to heal the infection in addition to healing the actual incision and muscles and my mind and spirit—well, it was a lot to cope with, especially as a senior in college. And I won’t lie to you and make it sound like the whole experience was a bouquet of daisies, because it certainly wasn’t. I lost many friends (people have a hard time with the c-word), I fell behind in classes, and I wondered what would become of me. Moreover, going through another surgery a year, for the same cancer regenerated, pushed me emotionally to the edge of collapse at one point. There were many times in those two years that I thought, I don’t know how much more of this I can do.

But.

As I told a friend who is going through some (partially self-inflicted) difficult times right now, we can either let the shitty things that happen to us just be shitty things, or we can let them be catalysts for our growth. There’s partly an active process to that (”How do I get meaning from this?”) and there’s partly a passive process (”How do I leave myself open to more than bitterness from this experience?”).

There were a variety of things I learned, over time, from my experience of having cancer and having those major surgeries. One thing I gained was an epiphany about my body: as fat/wonky/ungraceful/whatever as I saw myself, while I recovered from the surgery, I developed an appreciation of what my body could increasingly do. Emerging from a time when I could do very little, I appreciated what returned to me. I could laugh without pain! I could lift my arm without pain! I could walk the entire length of the hall without stopping from pain and exhaustion! I could carry a 10-pound box again! The simple became profound. I grew more aware of how all the muscles in my body are tied together. Instead of just feeling my depression and anxiety over what my body could not do at that time—fend off most illnesses, run a mile, fit in a size-10 dress—I instead grew impressed by how my body, and all bodies, function.

Of course, as happens with many epiphanies, I have struggled to retain the intensity of what I learned about myself in that time period. But I think of it sometimes—when I’m feeling negative about my body, when I am pushing myself while I’m running. I remember what it was like to need assistance sitting up. I remember when it was a struggle to walk down the hall. And I smile at what I regained and what I can do and how far I have come from those days. I remind myself–cerebrally and emotionally—how very much gratitude I have for the ability to move through life with relative ease.

Since January of 2007, I’ve been working to take better care of my body and my entire self. I started walking in January ‘07 and started learning to run in March ‘07 starting with running at 90 seconds at a time. A year later, I consider a 1- or 1.5-mi run a short run. For many athletic people, that would be considered hardly a work-out at all. But I run my short runs at a quicker pace than I run my longer runs, and I am still amazed and pleased that I have gotten to a point in my life where regular exercise is a happy, stress-relieving part of my routine instead of something I don’t do or something I dread doing.

And that exercise—the exercise and the other forms of self-care—enables me in other ways. I thought about that last Saturday when I spent my whole day on the first day of a local Habitat for Humanity build. Though I don’t write about my work on this blog, I work for a large Habitat affiliate. I work in an office; my work has to do with supporting people and engaging people in their own lives financially, spiritually, emotionally, and educationally (well, and it has to do with a whole lot of paperwork, of course). My work is typically white-collar social work; it is the type of cerebral and emotional work I would have always hoped and expected to have in my life. I didn’t grow up valuing the physical, and until last Saturday, I had never spent a whole day on a build site before. On the build site, I came with little knowledge but a willingness to serve: from 8-4:30, I was busy hammering nails, holding boards in place, helping lift walls into place, asking questions, and occasionally stopping to take photos of the day’s progress. I did work that, just a year or two ago, would have been very difficult for me to manage physically, at least for a whole day. I would have been worn out too quickly; I would have been too weak.  I would have gotten too hot. Now, I can do it. And I loved it—I loved being out there and being physically involved in the construction of the house. I loved how the physical exertion in the construction of the house regrounded me in the primary end result of my work efforts. I have, at this time in my life, the ability to provide support to this program with my body as well as my mind and heart. I don’t take that for granted: I treasure it. And I’ll do what I can to maintain it, which means taking good care of myself for the rest of my life.

(I took my builder friend Greg out on site with me. He’s explaining something about wood to me here. You can’t see, but we’re up on ladders at the top of the wall.)

What is this? Just a strawberry, right? Oh, no–no, my friend. This is one of the first strawberries of the season in Georgia.

Unlike many CSAs, my CSA provides subscribers (for an additional fee) the option of picking and choosing what we’ll receive from the local produce/products they currently have available. Two weeks ago, when I visited the CSA website to pick what I wanted, I clicked on the link for available fruits and nearly jumped out of my chair. The first Georgia strawberries had come in, and they were certified organic, too! Noting the high price, I ordered just a pint instead of the vast quantity I considered. When I arrived home, I bounced up and down gleefully as I told my husband that we were going to have strawberries coming in. “Okay,” he responded pleasantly but calmly, seeming a bit confused. I am certainly the more excitable of the two of us, but I’m also the meal planner. I realized I had a bit more explaining to do.

“Do you realize we haven’t had strawberries to eat since last summer?”

“Oh–have we really not?”

“No, they haven’t been in season since then. The only strawberries we’ve had since last summer have been in jam!”

And truthfully, we didn’t have many strawberries last year at all—a late-season Easter frost killed most of Georgia’s strawberry crop, among others. (This year, in the next two months, I plan to go out to a you-pick place so I can preserve strawberries to eat when the season ends.)

Now, I know that at any time in the last year, I could have gone to Wal-Mart, or Kroger, or Whole Foods, and I could have bought some strawberries from California or Chile or Peru. But strawberries taste best fresh, and buying strawberries from a far-flung location—even if the strawberries are organic, as nearly everything I buy is—would mean contributing a whole lot of calories of oil energy, its inherent pollution, and its contribution to climate change, for the sake of me eating something that was subpar, something I could eat in much finer form if I just waited a few months. I don’t eat everything in season, but I try as much as I can. And good strawberries are worth waiting for.

Do you ever get the feeling that there’s little on the planet that’s exciting anymore–that, having nearly everything available to us, right at our fingertips, it’s hard to feel all that thrilled by life? Do you ever feel like the choices we have are sometimes just overwhelming? Maybe even depressing? Choosing to eat seasonally is one way to take back a sense of appreciation, a way to utilize limitations to provide a sense of excitement and nourishment rather than deprivation. Rare things are precious, and learning to eat seasonally makes foods rotate from abundance to rarity (or non-existence) on a regular basis–it makes various foods precious, and exciting, as the year revolves. Choosing to eat seasonally is a way to learn to eat a variety of fresh, whole foods and naturally rotate foods over the course of a year. It’s a way to eat foods in their freshest state, which means when they are highest in their nutrients. It’s also a way to contribute your money directly to the local economy, and, as I mentioned, to decrease the impact your life’s consumption is having on the planet and its current and future in habitants. For me, eating seasonally—eating locally produced foods—provides a homey structure for what I choose to prepare for our meals. It is inspiring, and it is comforting.

After I placed my CSA order, I had 6 days to daydream about what to do with those sweet first-of-season strawberries. When they arrived, I savored a few straight-up as soon as I got the package home. Chewy, sweet, with the zing of the tiny seeds–delicious. I continued to ponder the strawberries for the next couple of days. Then I realized my second loaf of the fantastic gluten-free, vegan bread (see recipe in previous post) was going a bit stale. The inspiration appeared: I used the rest of the strawberries for a chocolate-strawberry bread pudding, where the strawberries baked up as a jammy contrast to the rich, smooth chocolate and chewy bread. And, of course, I had to share it with friends, and I had to freeze some to serve my husband when he arrived home from his trip. Precious things are often more fun when they’re enjoyed in community.

Chocolate-Strawberry Bread Pudding with (Optional) Rum Sauce
(Gluten-Free, Egg-Free, Soy-Free, Dairy-Free, Vegan)

5 T. unsweetened cocoa
1-2 T. hot water
2 c. milk alternative (I used vanilla almond milk)
Egg replacer equivalent of 2 eggs
1/2 c. sugar
dash of salt
2 t. vanilla extract
1 T. Kahlua (optional)
3-4 c. stale bread, cut or torn into small pieces
3/4 c. strawberries
1/2 c. chocolate chips or chunks

In a small bowl or ramekin, use a fork to whisk the cocoa with the hot water. (Start with 1 T and work up from there, if necessary.) In a large bowl, combine the cocoa mixture, milk alternative, egg replacer, sugar, salt, vanilla, and Kahlua. Add the bread, strawberries, and chocolate chunks, and mix well. Bake in 6-8 ramekins for ~25 minutes or in a casserole dish for ~1 hour–until the top mostly firms up.

Optional Rum Sauce
(I couldn’t decide whether I liked it better with or without)

1/2 c. margarine, ghee, or shortening
1/2 c. powdered sugar
1/4 c. dark rum
1 t. vanilla
1/4 t. ground nutmeg

In a mixing bowl, beat the margarine/ghee until fluffy. Add the powdered sugar, rum, vanilla, and nutmeg. Beat on high speed for two minutes. Spoon over the pudding. (Sauce will soften when spooned.)