Reward

I have recently discovered this great new diet. First, all you have to do is get pregnant. Grow the child inside of your body for approximately 40 weeks (give or take). During this time eat whatever you want and watch as, not only your stomach, but your hips, thighs and ass expand at an extremely rapid rate. This is mainly caused by all the cookies you will need to consume and the fact that pretty much all physical activity becomes nearly impossible. (This is including but not limited to: jogging, walking, climbing stairs, standing, breathing, motion in general etc.) And try to retain a lot of water if you can. Bags of potato chips in a single sitting help with this. Then give birth. The weight loss is incredible!! Oh, and also you have the pesky responsibility of now raising a child but, whatever. Minor detail.

Anyway, I kid you not, with the regiment I just described coupled with breastfeeding day in and day out, I lost 37 pounds in 6 weeks. But all joking aside, I did not expect to drop that much, that quickly and I am very happy with this change. However, my starting weight when I found out I was pregnant was not what I would call ideal. That coupled with the fact that when I did find out I was expecting I was too scared to sneeze too hard for fear I might dislodge the little noodle in there, I gained a teensy bit more weight (cough) 45 lbs (cough) than I wanted too.

So, about two weeks ago, Grant and I did a 6 day metabolism boosting diet. In a nutshell, it consisted of a low carb, high protein diet with 3 meals a day, 2 snacks and lots of lean protein, veggies and the occasional fruit smoothie. It really is the easiest thing to do and a common sense approach to a diet but you get mighty tired of salad by the end, to say the least. But it worked and thanks to the diet and my daily walks with my son, I lost 8 additional lbs. Woot! And as hard as it was, honestly it felt really good to eat completely healthy for a week. I suppose these so called "nutritionists" may be onto something.

But tonight I decided we deserved to treat ourselves. And the fresh scallops at Farmer Joe's Market in Oakland were begging for me to buy them. I basically tweaked this risotto recipe. I opted for no fennel because I find it offensive and I added red onion and sauteed oyster mushrooms that also looked AMAZING that day at the market. I then topped it off with three beautiful seared scallops. It was well worth 6 days of salads and grilled chicken. But, the weight loss was also worth it and I plan on doing the diet again on a more regular basis in an effort to lose more, and cleanse my body a bit. Now, if I can only find a diet that will do something about this gelatinous tire where my abs once were. One of the many other gifts my beautiful son has left me with.


(Photo by Grant Shellen)

Carrot Soup

Two weeks ago, I did something amazing. I made carrot soup from scratch and without a recipe. That's right, I made it up right there on the spot. But wait, that is not even the amazing part yet. I did all of this with my 4-week-old son strapped to the front of me. Amazing, right?

Oh, I'm sorry, have I not mentioned that yet? Oh yeah, I had a kid.

Maybe I should back up a little bit. So roughly 9 months and 6 weeks ago I got pregnant. Overall, I had a fairly easy pregnancy with a few of the typical symptoms that come along with growing another human in your body scattered throughout. For me, the first trimester was really not all that bad in retrospect. Yes, there were days when I felt a little woozy and had a bit of a sour stomach but thankfully that wooziness never turned into full-fledged vomiting. But, what it did mean was that food and I had a very interesting relationship during those first few months. I don't know if I would say that I craved any foods but I did know what I DID NOT want. Garlic was first on that list.

This is an ingredient that is usually in nearly everything I cook but even the mere thought of it made me feel ill. But more than not wanting specific items, I did not want anything that required too much work to eat. Essentially, I didn't want to chew. This meant I ate a lot of hummus and cream cheese. One morning I remember that someone brought bagels and cream cheese to work and as I took a bite of my first one I had already forgiven myself for the second bagel that I was inevitably going to be making upon finishing the first. (Pregnancy makes you really hungry, or at least gives you an excuse to eat as much as you want.) Because of these new food issues, dinner consisted mainly of whatever mama wanted that day. I remember calling my husband one evening on my way home from work. I told him that all day I had been thinking about making white rice in the rice cooker and instead of water, I wanted to make it with chicken broth and when it was done I wanted to put butter and salt on it. He chuckled and said, "That's funny." So what are we having for dinner?"

"Um, did you hear what I said? You can have whatever you want, but I am having white rice, made with chicken broth and when it is done I am going to put butter and salt on it."

I don't remember what he ended up making for dinner that night, but I sure as hell know what I had.

The second trimester was basically "everything goes." I was no longer opposed to chewing, and aside from wanting to eat all the things I could not have due to safety concerns for the baby, (e.g. sushi, blue cheese and lunch meat) food and I were friends again. The best of friends, really. And often times it seemed that food was less about enjoyment and more about how fast I could shove something with nutritional value into the hole in the center of my face.

In my third trimester, I got hit with a food craving the size of a train. A giant, dairy-filled train. For whatever reason, I needed milk to be accessible to me at all times. I could drink it by the gallon. I have always enjoyed milk but I was not really my beverage of choice. This was more than just an enjoyment of milk: this was an extreme need for it. I feel like I can now relate to how that smoker must feel in the morning before their first cigarette. My "cigarette" just happened to be a tall, cold, glass of A & D fortified goodness.

I don't know if it was the milk or just my luck but I did something right because at 5 days overdue I gave birth to a 9 lbs 3 oz baby boy who we named Charlie with NO EPIDURAL. And no, I am not one of those women who thinks they are superior to any woman to uses pain medication during child birth because believe me, child birth hurts. A LOT. But I am one of those women who thinks she has now earned the right to use all caps when the words "no" and "epidural" appear in order and I am referencing birth of my son. Did I mention his head was 14 3/4 inches in circumference? Because it was. So like I said, NO EPIDURAL!!!

Anyway, where was I? Right, soup! After you have a baby, people love to bring you food. This is a fabulous benefit to having a baby because the last thing you will be doing is cooking with a newborn in the mix. It was a good day when I remembered to put on deodorant, let alone make a meal. But the foodie in me was dying to cook again and was just not satisfied by reheating things in the microwave, as appreciated as the meals were. So a few weeks ago, I strapped my son to me in the Moby wrap and I decided to make soup. I made it up on the fly so here is my best guess at what I did:

7-9 medium carrots, peeled and diced
1 medium onion, diced
3-4 cloves of garlic, minced
1 large can of chicken broth (more maybe needed depending on how you like the consistency of your soup)
1 tsp of grated, fresh ginger (more or less to taste)
zest of half an orange
salt and pepper to taste

Saute the diced onion and garlic for a few minutes until the onions become translucent and tender. Add the carrots and continue to cook for a few minutes more. Add the chicken broth, ginger and zest and bring to a boil. Once the soup is boiling reduce the heat to a simmer and cook until the carrots are fork tender. Ladle the soup in parts into a food processor or blender and process until smooth. This is when you may need to add more broth if the soup is too thick. You could also add water, or even cream for a richer soup.

As far as I know, Charlie liked the soup. While I was preparing it I was thinking about how much fun it will be for me to cook for Charlie when he can actually eat the food as opposed to getting the milk version of it a few hours later. I really do hope me son is not a picky eater and will enjoy this carrot soup and many of my other creations someday. And if he doesn't like something or tries to give me grief, I will just have to gently remind him that I gave birth to him with NO EPIDURAL!!!

This summer, I'll be eating fair food.

(This little nugget was originally posted here, courtesy of Plinky.com. Plinky is a fancy little company that my husband works for and my brother-in-law founded. I highly recommend trying is, almost as much as fair food.)

It is a simple equation really:

Summer+ The Fair + Corn Dogs = A very content Heather

I look forward to the fair and all it's deep fried goodness more than I look forward to Christmas. I honestly don't know what it is about the fair. Because really, it is kinda dirty and sad. But nothing makes me happier than the one day I justify eating an entire weeks worth of calories.

Glorious. Truly glorious.

But one must treat the fair with respect. It can turn on you faster than you can deep fry a Twinke. Try to do too much and you will end up, not with contentment, but regret and a food coma. So. Worth. It.

Mexico OR Where I Found Religion

By Joel C. Daniel

(It's seems that there is a running theme with most of Joel's stories that he so kindly allows me to share on this little bliggity-blog of mine. That theme? Bodily functions. But only Joel can tell a story with that kind of subject matter and still make me hungry for tacos. Enjoy.)

It is 3:30 a.m. PST. I am awake. My roommate’s bunk bed is squeaking in the room next door, and my neighbor across the street is wailing, “Louie,” over and over in a drunken slur¹. The last time I was awake at 3:30 am, I was in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico² listening to my girlfriend vomit. Montezuma laid his revenge upon her with conviction, and I was relegated to using the neighbor’s toilet any time I had to go. We were with her family; they think it was the food. I think it was Jesus. Baby Jesus to be exact, or a plastic doll being used as his stand-in. She kissed said Jesus, along with the rest of San Miguel de Allende, at midnight mass on Christmas Eve. I didn’t. It is pertinent to note, I think, that she is a Jew.

There was nothing wrong with the food. I could eat Mexican food every day. I could eat Mexican food in Mexico every meal of every day, and for five days I did. The food rocked. It rocked the way an elephant standing atop a very stiff and thin candle would rock. My girlfriend’s family insisted upon eating at “nice” restaurants³. Although the food was good, it never felt right passing a vendor making fresh tacos at a cart on the side of a cobblestone street – who probably had been doing the same every day all of his or her life – to eat something else. In Mexico, passing this by seemed preposterous and American.

Eating at a taco stand is not an experience you can get in the US. You can take your chances at a taco truck⁴, but it is not the same. The stands I visited were imperative to the city and its people, and I believe they were authentic connections to the roots of the city. The people I purchased my meals from were residents and sole proprietors making a living selling to mostly local residents and citizens. The food was delicious, and I felt closer to the culture, because I met the people of the city that keep it nourished.

I think my girlfriend’s family was looking for easy answers. She and I ate the same exact food while we were in Mexico. I did not throw up or discharge anything abnormally. Thus, it could not have been the food. It could have been the water, (although in this particular town the water is supposed to be okay for the gringos), as she had a few ice cubes in margaritas on our trip. I did not drink these, but I saw her father take a sip of at least one of hers. Therefore, I do not think it was the water, which leaves only Jesus. I am not a religious person, but I have also never seen fluids move forward and back through a human at the rate they moved through my girlfriend. Only a divine hand could explain this. Only in Mexico could I find religion. Good night.

__
1 He does this about twice a week.

2 An artist community and city founded in 1542 in the state of Guanajuato.

3 Usually Italian food.

4 Which is not to say there is no value in a taco truck. There is. However, a great part of its value is the result of our fast-paced lives and capitalism.

Why I bought a grapefruit spoon

Since I am one who has always prepared my grapefruits with a knife, I never saw the need for one of these specialty spoons. Conceptually I get it, and it saves you the prep work, but you still have to eat the grapefruit with this jagged edged thing. Unless you like tearing up your lips while eating acidy food.

However, a grapefruit spoon has become a necessary part of my kitchen for a super easy goat cheese stuffed zucchini dish.



Cut the zucchini in half long ways and dig out the seeds with your grapefruit spoon and salt and pepper them to taste.



Mix goat cheese, lemon zest, salt and pepper and a handful of your favorite fresh herb, chopped. This time I had flat leaf parsley in the fridge but I have used mint in the past and that was even better. Stuff the zucchini with the cheese mixture and top with toasted bread crumbs. Bake in a 350 degree oven for about 10-15 minutes or until the zucchini is tender.

You'll thank me. And the grapefruit spoon.

Flashback

The strangest thing happened in the grocery store the other day. I was browsing for my usual weekly staples and something just came over me. I had to have Macaroni & Cheese and it had to be Kraft (it is "the Cheesiest," you know). I stood there for a minute thinking to myself, why are you stooping to this level? I mean, I am no stranger to the fancy Mac and Cheese but today, I wanted nothing to do with the Irish Cheddar or the Nutty Gruyere. Tonight, it was powdered cheese in a a bag, or nothing else.

It is hard to explain how it made me feel knowing that I was about to go home and cook something that can only be explained as neon, cheese food. Disgusted? No. Embarrassed? No. Exhilarated? Yes.

My new challenge was to pair the main and second side dish with a pasta dish that was about to be coated in a sauce that has about 300% of my daily dose of sodium. I decided the best choice was to not jeopardize the integrity of the Mac and Cheese and stick to the basics. Fish sticks and green beans. Of course, I bought fresh cod and made a delicious oat and herb breading and the green beans were sauteed in butter and garlic. I have to bring a little bit of fancy to the plate, even when we eat like 6 year olds.

Vocabulary Lessons from Top Chef

Instead of weekly reviews which clearly I have failed to produce, I have decided to start working on my own "Top Chef" dictionary. Please read carefully. You will be tested on this material.

1. Brunoise: A brunoise is one of the most basic knife skills. Basically you are cutting your food into approximately 1/8th inch cubes. To preform a brunoise one mush first julienne the food, turn it 90 degrees and dice it again to make perfect little squares. Typical items that are brunoised are carrots or parsnips. On Top Chef the contestants brunoised apples. Some of them even started to brunoise their fingers. But not even the threat of stitches would stop them. The power of Tom Colicchio compels you!!

2. Amuse Bouche: This little delight is not an appetizer. In fact, it is not even ordered but rather brought to the table at no charge. One other difference that sets an amuse bouche apart from typical hors d'oeuvre is that it is usually only one bite. According to the Wikipeidia entry it is "literally translated to 'mouth amuser.'" And of course, they are not without a touch of fancy so the chef can showcase his creativity and skills. However, if that is the literal translation then I guess that means that to me, things like Cheetos and chocolate-covered pretzels are also "amuse bouches."

3. Robot Coupe: I added this one only because I always hear them talking about "the robot coupe" ("robot" pronounced "row-bow"). Every time they would say it I had no idea what they were talking about and all I could think of was "Robo Cop." I then couldn't help but wonder if there was some kind of secret kitchen robot that they used who couldn't be seen by the public or something. Turns out it is just a food processor. Lame.