O Should Know

I was wondering tonight when our country—which includes myself as a citizen—lost the ability to feed ourselves?  It’s so evident (by looking at our rear-ends) that that most of us have lost this part of our brain, which is labeled “commonsense” brain matter.  What the heck happened?  Feeding ourselves should be commonsense, but most of us can’t live without instruction these days.  People feeding instruction is a gazillion dollar business in this country.

Now, for many of you who are lost at this point—here’s a 101 update.  Ask yourself how many diets, diet products, diet experts, etc. fill-up part of our daily existence? Well, it’s a lot.  Sometime between the cavemen days and year 2010, some part of the majority of the population’s brain was zapped away.  We want to know what to eat, when to eat it, how much to eat and how fast to eat it.  Sheesh.

I suppose it’s not really hard to figure out.  Americans are just plain spoiled.  We aren’t like the people in third world countries who are just happy to have “something” to eat.  We expect choices.  I was baffled last week listening to a man that was in charge of a non-profit food bank in our community.  He was relating to a group of people (in which I was a part of) that their facility has started letting people “shop” for their food versus just giving then a pre-packaged mix of what was available.  At first this sounded like a reasonable concept, but later I wondered if people in Haiti right now were demanding to “shop” for their free food.  Of, course not.

And, that’s the problem.  Most of us feel entitled and have grown accustomed to choice.  And, the more choices Americans have been given over the past 100 years have made them fat (again, this includes myself).   It’s even trickling down to our children.  You can’t pick up a parenting magazine that does not feature a “how to feed a picky eater” article.

On the flip side – we do have a choice in this country.  And, along with everybody else—I personally need to make better choices.  We are lucky to have good choices.

I pledge today to not be a dope when it comes to feeding myself.  It does not take a college education to know that eating fresh fruits and vegetables, along with drinking more water might make me healthier.  It’s simple.  I’m no longer going to be the baby bird with the “feed me” sign hanging around my neck.  I can feed myself, thank you.  (And, I’ll be saying that 20 times each morning before I head down to the breakfast table for my first feeding of the day).

Dear Ann Landers: We have a number of Jesus pictures scattered around the house and my five-year has asked me at least 100 times if Jesus is a girl – because of that long hair. He just won’t take “no” for an answer. Instead of arguing with him again, I spent some time tonight scanning photos and “cropping” Jesus’ head. Am I going to “H E double toothpicks?”

Water.  I wish I were a fan.  Then, I wouldn’t be spending an inordinate amount of time wading (not literally) through America’s VERY VAST beverage options.  Going inside the local 7-11 these days makes me dizzy.  I bet there are 10,000 beverage options wedged inside a place not much bigger than P-Wee Herman’s Playhouse.  Random.

One of the things that I need to continue to change related to my new lifestyle is not drinking so many calories.  I did get off Pepsi for the most part, although I’ve slipped here and there due to lack of sleep some nights.  And, because coffee and/or crack aren’t pleasing to my palate—I’ve swigged down a few illegal Pepsi Colas when I’ve had to be peppy/pleasing/pantastic! (new word, people!) mostly related to work.  I’m supposed to be a leader (dag nab it) and a leader does whatever it takes to inspire, including artificial insemination (i.e. drinking more than 20 ounces of soda to implant pep).

Anyway. . .off topic again.

For the most part, I’ve been good.  I switched to the low-cal version of Gatorade (G2) and have forced down a lot more water compared to years past.   But, I am still drinking too many calories and have for almost all of my adult life.  What I’m trying to explore is how to drink smarter.   I have found it helpful to drink some of my fruit and veggie servings.  It makes those nine servings slide down much easier.  You just have to make sure you are measuring servings carefully and are drinking only 100% juice.  For example, I didn’t realize a serving of OJ was only ½ cup.  A big glass of OJ can equal 5-6 servings if you are not careful.  I also tried V8 for the first time in my life and have been pleasantly surprised, although it’s certainly not “pantastic.”  In fact, I like to heat it up a tad in the microwave and sprinkle it with some freshly ground pepper.  But, then I can’t decide if it’s gone from V-8 to tomato soup.  I suppose the benefits are the same, although don’t quote me as the expert on V-8 nutrition (or anything else for that matter – I’m an entertainer!).

I guess the point of today’s blog entry is to drink responsibly.  If it’s not water, it probably adds up.  And, if you are drinking pop—it’s bad for you.  I remember my mother proudly telling me that she was glad I was ONLY drinking pop.  It could be worse.  I could have been drinking booze, smoking pot or doing “stuff” with my boyfriend.  I think looking back, I’d be a lot thinner if I’d been more active in those other types of addictions.  But, we can’t be perfect. . .can we?

So, cheers people! Sip down a bowl of peppered V8 this week in the name of good health or just to be weird—like me.

PS. Gotta love the tanked cat.  Or, not.

Yes, we had a “Wok Out” this weekend.  The 18-year old, barely been used, wedding gifted Wok went up in smoke Saturday afternoon.  If I was a superstitious woman, I’d be worried about my marriage, but thankfully, my husband continues to remind me that we are not cheap, Chinese-made appliances.

So, what was a girl to do?  I turned to my womanly instinct that told me I was really hungry for lentil and sausage-based soup.  I’d make Italian Wedding Soup as symbol of my enduring marriage.  So, Italian Wedding Soup it was. . .recipe is below.

The other thing I did this weekend was marvel at how many great cooking and wellness blogs there are out there on the Internet.  Keep in mind, that most are not both.  But, that is OK.  I don’t always like to mix the two.  Tonight, I wanted to start sharing some of these blogs with you—and invite you to begin to share your favorite cooking and blog sites with the ever-increasing number of OShouldKnow readers.

Anyway, here is a couple to get you started:

Albertsonswellbeing.com

This is a great wellness blog populated by the supermarket retailer, Albertsons. This blog features a number of talented and diverse writers—everything from a dietitian to an adventurous single guy looking for excitement in the world of food and health.  You can subscribe to daily updates that make you feel healthier by just reading them.  And, there are good recipes to boot—a rare combo blog with a fun roster of “real-people” voices.

Orangette.blogspot.com

This, in my opinion, is the ultimate food lovers’ blog. The seductive powers of food writing are not to be underestimated.  The author, Molly Wizenberg, even used her food journey to find her a husband.   How can you top that?  Food and love.  My two favorite combinations in life.  Or, are they one and the same?  Hmmm.

Steph’s Italian Wedding Soup (adapted from three different recipes I found online):

* 1 lb pound bulk Italian sausage
* 1 large onion, chopped
* 1 large carrot, chopped
* 1 32-ounce carton of organic chicken broth
* 1 can (14-1/2 ounces) diced tomatoes, undrained
* 1 cup water
* 1 garlic clove, minced
* 1 teaspoon salt
* 1/2 teaspoon pepper
* 3/4 cup dried lentils, rinsed

Directions;
In a Dutch oven or soup kettle, cook sausage over medium heat until no longer pink; drain. Add the rest of the ingredients.  Bring to a boil. Add lentils. Reduce heat; cover and simmer for 60-70 minutes or until the lentils are tender. Yield: 6-8 servings

PS – I’m going to go the second-hand store the coming weekend and see if I can’t snag myself a “new” Wok.  So, stay tuned. . .

Dear Ann Landers: Oh, Lordy . . .it never ends. Today it was, “REALLY, mom? Name ONE person who died from sleeping in an unmade bed.”

Well, it’s midnight on Friday and guess what time it is?  Yip!  Time to figure out what produce-inspired masterpiece I’m going to whip up this weekend.  As I mentioned yesterday, the 18-year old WOK is calling my name.   I actually used the WOK a lot during the first couple of years of my marriage—you know, when I was into ensuring my husband was pleasured in every room in the house.  And, of course people—I’m talking about decorating and cooking.  Of course!

Now, almost two decades later, I am only worried about pleasuring myself with fruits and vegetables.  And, what better way to “sauté it up” in the kitchen than by “firing up” some hot oil and whipping around edible stuff—more commonly known in most cooking circles as “stir-fry.”

I visited a number of websites that featured only WOK and stir-fry recipes.  Wow!  There are millions and they range from three ingredients to a billion.   I have to admit I was a bit baffled by words like “fish paste” and “star anise.”  What the heck?  All these years I have been thinking I’m a great cook and then “WOK words” came along and I felt like I was on Mars reading the Martian version of Martha Stewart magazine.   I suppose the more likely issue is that I grew up in a teeny, tiny town in Iowa were ethnic food meant either “Taco Johns” or “Pizza Hut.”  So, Asian noodles, lemongrass and hot curry powder were not part of our regular vocabulary, let alone things that would ever hit our small-town, Midwest palettes during mealtime.

After much ado, I picked out a recipe—Chicken Stir Fry.  Geez, how creative and daring of me.  But, take a look.  It’s got spinach, a few other veggies and a hint of sweet (i.e. sugar)—of which I’m always a big fan of in food.

Here’s the recipe:

Chicken Stir-Fry
Prep: 15 min, Cook: 5 min.

* 3 Tbs. lite soy sauce, plus more for serving
* 1 Tbs. cornstarch
* 1 Tbs. dry sherry or Chinese rice wine (optional)
* 1 tsp. sugar
* 1-1/4 lbs. boneless skinless chicken breast halves, thinly sliced
* 1 tsp. peanut oil
* 1 tsp. Asian sesame oil
* 2 tsp. fresh ginger, minced
* 1 clove garlic, crushed
* 1 cup scallions, chopped
* 6 ounces mushrooms, sliced
* 6 ounces spinach, washed, tough stems discarded

Combine first 4 ingredients in a jar with a tight-fitting lid. Shake vigorously. Place sliced chicken in a mixing bowl. Pour soy sauce mixture over chicken and toss to coat. Heat peanut oil and sesame oil in a wok or heavy nonstick skillet over high heat. Stir-fry ginger and garlic 45 seconds. Add meat and marinade and stir-fry 2 minutes, or until chicken begins to brown. Add scallions and mushrooms and stir-fry 2 minutes or until scallions are softened. Add spinach and stir-fry another 45 seconds. Season with pepper to taste. Serve with additional soy sauce.

Per serving: calories 225, fat 4.5g, 18% calories from fat, cholesterol 82mg, protein 36.1g, carbohydrates 9.9g, fiber 2.7g, sugar 2.0g, sodium 527mg, diet points 4.8.

Recipe Source: www.mealsforyou.com

As usual, I’ll let you know how it goes.  I wanted to end this blog entry wishing you Bon Appetite in Chinese, but I could only find the words “Eat Slowly” in the translation guide. So, ??? !!!

The combination of being a huge fan of good food, pledging to eating massive amounts of fruits and veggies daily and general dinner time exhaustion can only mean one thing when you leave lip-licking lunch leftovers at work—weeping in the garage (so that only the dog sees how pitiful you are over a forgotten PF Chang’s chopped chicken salad).

For some people, this is all going to sound pretty stupid.  But, for others—you get it.  Those who get it know the sacrifice and patience that’s involved in harvesting lunch leftovers.

For starters, you have been SO GOOD and that is not always easy when it comes to food.  You really wanted to eat every last bite (and “tongue swish” the serving plate) of that yummy 2,000 calorie/10-serving salad, but you restrained yourself and ate less than half because it was “just the right thing to do.”

Once you’ve made it past that major hurdle—you find that you are still thinking of that salad about 3 pm when your blood sugar drops and you want to go and get it out of the mini-fridge and chow it down, even if it means eating it with your fingers because the restaurant didn’t stick a plastic fork in the doggie bag.   You even spend time fantasizing about licking your fingers until dinner because traces of salad dressing lingers.

And, finally, there is the glee you start to feel because you are not going to have to cook yourself dinner.  You are going to have something “restaurant yummy” for two meals in one day.    How often does that happen in the life of the average person, especially in this economy?

So, yes—a good weeping is appropriate if even one of these scenarios matches your thoughts and/or behaviors.  Your entire day has been ruined by sheer disappointment in yourself for not post-it-noting your entire office with reminders to take your lunch harvest home.

Anyway, that is what happened to me today.  In the end (this time), it worked out OK for me in terms of diet compliance.   I had built up the leftover salad so large in my mind, nothing else could live up to it.  I choked down the last couple of fruit and vegetable servings (carrots and peaches) and ended my food journey for the day.

I also started thinking about the weekend and the possibilities I could cook up in the kitchen.  That made me excited.  I decided I’m going to dust off the WOK my husband and I received as a wedding gift almost 18 years ago and saute away.  I’ve heard you can do wonders with veggies with the WOK.  No, it won’t be PF Chang’s.   But, I can make massive amounts of delicious WOK creations this weekend—and, then I’ll leave them at home on Monday so that I have nothing to eat for lunch. . .and, then I’ll weep in the supply closet for a while . .and, then I’ll run down the street to PF Chang’s and order another one of those salads.   But, this time. . .I’ll probably eat the entire thing–which, I wish I would have done today.  And, you might be wishing I’d done that too because then you wouldn’t be subjected to this blog entirely devoted to leftover lunch.

One of the biggest challenges for me and my eccentric (i.e. crappy) eating habits are my wife-mother-work schedule.  The ticker inside me is set to “15 minutes late,” so I’m constantly missing out on meals.  When I should be eating breakfast, I’m playing hide and seek with my son’s elusive tennis shoes.  When I should be eating lunch, I’m returning emails and trying to pick and eat the unburnt kernels out of a bag of microwave popcorn.  When I should be having a healthy snack, I’m digging through my purse for a lost Starlight mint.  And, when I should be eating dinner—I’m carpooling kids and huffing in the aroma of whatever I made them for dinner and praying like a pigeon that they drop a breadcrumb on the floor mat that I can snatch up at a stoplight.

With my new fruit and veggie challenge, I have had to do better or else continue to suffer the consequences between 8 pm and midnight.  If I wait until those hours to eat nine servings of foods that are primarily laced with fiber and water, I transform into to what I call a “blotation device” overnight.

So, today, I did something I’ve never before.  I stopped along the side of the road for a fruit break.  Of course, since fruit stands are not too plentiful in Idaho—I rolled into Albertsons to peruse their abundant produce section.   Normally, I’d stop at the Stinker Station (i.e. bizarrely named gas station based in Idaho) and graze their chip and candy section—and, then mosey over to the fizzy beverage section to pick up something to wash it all down (or eat it out of my gut like all good sugary acids do).  And, I’m not going to lie—I miss the sugary acid (a lot).  Luckily, when I am tempted, I kick into my 12-step recovery mode (or, if that does not work, I run into the Stinker bathroom, drop to my knees and pray to the Gods of abstinence).

But, today, I walked through Albertsons proud as a peacock. I walked right past the Pringles, the Valentine candy, the Pepsi, the Ruffles and those last little devils—the King Size Snicker bars at the checkout stand—and paid only for my pineapple, s bag of cherries and bottle of G2.

No breadcrumbs off the floorboards for me today, people!  I’m not a pigeon! I’m not a pigeon!!   (And, tonight I’m not bloatated!  I’m not bloatated!!)

Lame ending, I know. . .sure would be nice to have a Punchy Pepsi right now.  Hmmm.

Dear Ann Landers:  My 5 year-old has been asking me 4-5 times a day if I brushed my teeth.  I was really getting paranoid and started walking around popping expensive breath mints every five minutes.  Finally, I asked him why he was saying that to me all of time and he said, “Oh, mom.  I just like messing with you.”  I sort of wanted to kill him, but I remembered he was not an accident.  Geez.

I told you that I’d let you know if I swallowed or spat my “Very Veggie Strata” that I cooked up over the weekend.   Or, if you make a strata. . . should you say “baked up?”  Semantics I guess depending on your sophistication in the kitchen.

Anyway, I’m getting off track (as usual).  So, yes—I’d have to say the strata was absolutely spittable.  But, I ate it anyway because I don’t think I’ve ever eaten anything so absolutely dense and eggy that provided so many bitefulls of vegetables.  They actually overpowered the cream cheese, heavy cream, lots of melty cheese and bread chunks that shared space in the Pyrex baker—which, I would have thought might be impossible.

I did make a couple of changes to the recipe.  First, I decided to use mozzarella cheese because of course—I forgot the Swiss cheese at the grocery store.  It must been a Freudian cheese slip because I actually hate Swiss.  So, that worked out fine because I buy mozzarella cheese in 50 lb bags and had it on hand.  (It tasted it good, too.)

My second alteration was to use the flat 9 x 13 Pyrex baking vessel (i.e. casserole dish).  The recipe called for a springform pan, which every time I have used mine—the oven has started on fire.  I’m not good with recipes that have the potential to puff up over the top of the baking dish when cooking—even a cookie sheet underneath does not save me.   Like the rest of my life, I have a tendency to “overfill” things.

So, as I predicted. . .I was still eating the strata for dinner tonight.  Although, I scrambled up some hamburger spiced with a swat of cheap Iodized salt and black pepper—then threw it on top of the microwaved strata.  It was one of those days when you just need a little meat.  I chased it down with 5 servings (i.e. a giant glass of 100% orange juice) and called it a day.   It wasn’t pretty, but I made my fruit and veggie goal—and, some days. . .winning isn’t pretty, but you take the win anyway.   And, in my case—it all comes out the same at the end of the day.  Probably you, too.

And, with that. . .good night!

PS.  There are no less than four “words” that are not words in this blog entry.  Can you find then all?  It’s like a “word search,” but not.

PSS. That is an actual picture of my strata.  Cool, don’t you think?