Farewell to February BBQ

As Sweetie was walking around campus last week, he couldn't escape the scent of BBQs wafting from the houses on Greek row. Apparently, the fraternity guys went a little stir-crazy and couldn't wait to fire up the grill until all the snow had melted off the ground. Of course, the maleness was catching, so he couldn't resist calling up the family and suggesting we hold one of our own today.

I started the day with a bowl of bran flakes, followed by a three-mile walk/jog while I watched an episode of "Ultimate Cakes" on the TLC website. I just wanted to see the cakes, but apparently everybody else watches it for the drama, because there was a lot of it. I feel a little sorry for the fresh-outta-culinary-school ingenue who was force-fed lines like, "I think my competitors underestimate me because I have less experience" and, "I think he's intimidated because he could be beaten by someone half his age." Yeah, we get it, she's young...just let the girl roll her fondant. Though I have less sympathy for the self-designated "eccentric artist" who pouted like a teenager over her poured sugar ornaments while the rest of her team tacked onto someone with better leadership skills. Anywho, I'm either getting stronger or that show was aggravating enough to hold my attention for 45 minutes, but the workout flew by. I had a quick snack before washing up for the party:


Half a banana, frozen blackberries, spinach and soy milk. Numnumnum.

As anticipated, the smoothie temporarily soothed my growling stomach but didn't hold me over for long. I pounced as soon as AMIL (acting mother-in-law) brought in the steaming plates of chicken tenderloins and Angus burgers.


I chose the chicken because we had beef last night. AMIL had marinated them in a sauce of her own making, using the herbs she gathered and dried last fall. I'm not sure what all was in it, but it was delicious! I used three of them in an elaborate sandwich:


Sliced onions, ketchup and mustard, and baby spring greens went onto an enormous bun. I haven't had store-bought bread since the last time we visited Sweetie's father post-Christmas, and it was nice to not have to pick through a bag of buns to find the right size or slice my own loaf.


I managed to pile all the greens on top and secure them with the top bun. I brought some peach slices to contribute and grabbed three pretzel rods on the side. This lunch was filling. I wasn't hungry for my afternoon snack, and now at 4:40 I'm not just finding ways to distract myself until dinner.

After the meal we brushed the family's numerous cats (it's time to get them un-knotted for spring), chatted about this and that and had a bit of entertainment watching AMIL's husband fend of a visiting Jehova's Witness. Around 3 we packed up and came home to let AMIL get some rest--she had a horrendous cough and bright-red nose from tissue-friction. I wouldn't mind doing this once in a while when the weather gets better; we get free food and Sweetie gets to feel virtuous for being a good son who spends time with his parents :D

My Sordid Past

According to Sweetie, my post yesterday on "Why I'm a Food Blogger" was boring.

"You didn't address your eating disorder," he said.
"Yes I did," I said. "I just didn't say it in so many words."
"Yeah, but it wasn't dramatic."

No, I suppose it wasn't. Whenever the subject of my sordid past comes up, I do my best to put it in a calm, rational light, free of Goethe-like frills and thrills. But this isn't because I'm trying to gloss over that dire period or appear flawless. I avoid drama for several reasons:

(1) I'm over it. For the first few years after my anorexia/binging/emo phase, I wrote "my story" many times in various forms for various outlets (a personal website, school essays, even in a not-quite-finished book). I spent countless hours in self-reflection and self-absorption and by this point, the edge has completely worn away. I still remember the gory details, but I don't feel the need to rehash them anymore.

(2) I'm not particularly unique. I frequent forums for people who struggle with weight and body image issues. The "Success" thread up top, where everyone describes their experiences, contains hundreds of testimonials. But there are essentially only three plots.

-"I come from a family who eats McDonalds five times a week, so I've always been chubby. A few years ago I was diagnosed with diabetes/a bad back/heart irregularities, and I knew it was time for change. I cut out junk food and started walking and voila!"

-"I was always a skinny kid. I could eat whatever I wanted and still fit a size 2. But then I went to college/had kids/landed a desk job and the weight piled on. I wanted my old bikini body back so I cut out junk food and started walking and voila!"

-"As a teenager, I was convinced I was fat. Looking back at photos of myself, I have no idea how I could have thought that, but my friends were always talking about dieting and I believed I should too. I developed disordered eating and shrank down to 100 pounds. I thought I looked fantastic, but I was really scary thin. Eventually I binged the pounds back on plus some. Now I'm looking to do it the healthy way, making positive lifestyle changes instead of fixating on the number."

Obviously, I fall smack dab in the middle of the last category (with a bit of the first thrown in, because I actually was overweight. I just wasn't as overweight as I thought). I believe it's very rare to find a woman on the internet writing about food or fitness who hasn't struggled with unhealthy thoughts to some degree. Heck, it's probably difficult to find a woman on the planet who hasn't--heavy emphasis on the female figure is universal. We can't help it; reproduction is up top on the list of human instincts.

(3) Now we get to the touchy part of the matter. I don't dramatize my eating disorder because it could be perceived as glamorous. Languishing waifs have been "in" for the past couple of centuries. Novels with crazy starving protagonists fly from the bookstore shelves, and anyone who portrays an anorexic on screen is guaranteed an award nomination of some kind. But while a normal person will read those books or see those movies and say, "Oh my god, that's horrible!" a person with disordered eating will scrutinize their techniques and say, "Why didn't I think of that?"

To people who are intent on starving themselves, cautionary tales become "inspiration." That movie I referenced yesterday, For the Love of Nancy, was my trigger. I considered Nancy a role model; my goal was to be as thin and gaunt as her. To have so little fat that I would shiver in summer. I thought that Tracey Gold was portraying what I wanted to look like, but there was actually a more insidious force at work. I wanted to be Nancy because when she whittled away, the movie's world revolved around her. Her dorm mates gossiped that she was always exercising and tried to include her in pizza parties. Her siblings took her on shopping trips in attempt to restore normalcy. Her mother cried and begged her to stop killing herself. In essence, by making a martyr of herself, Nancy had all the attention and control she could desire. And, as a fifteen-year-old whose only prominence in the world was the jeers from classmates that, "She does nothing but study!" I craved attention and control, too.

If I write a lot about my "journey" here, I believe it could have that same effect on vulnerable internet surfers. They might want to be like the woman who snatches the attention of dozens by writing lurid accounts of her struggles. I'm being overly cautious, because I only get about 30 readers a day and most of them are just looking for homemade bagelful recipes, but it is something I think I should be conscious of.

These are the three rational reasons for avoiding "confessional" posts, but the overarching and most prominent one is that it just seems cheap. I didn't start this blog for fame, so harping about poor little me serves no purpose. I started writing as a tool to better myself. And the best way to do that is not to dwell on the past, but to focus on tangible ways to improve the present and future (through, of course, moderate exercise and yummy, healthy food).

Why I'm a Food Blogger

Someone asked me a question! I actually didn't expect any. Unfortunately, they asked something that deserves more than a short paragraph or two on Formspring:

Why are you a food blogger?

I'm sure the asker thought it an innocuous, easy question. But it's very difficult to answer honestly while preserving my pride.

I could give any of the common stock answers: "I love cooking and wanted to share and learn new dishes." "It keeps me accountable." "I was bored at work." All true to some extent, but giving such an answer is like saying, "I shot my husband because he forgot to order my Big Mac without pickles." Obviously, there's more to the story.

The real reason I started food blogging is the opposite of admirable. I write about food because I need to channel an unhealthy preoccupation with nutrition and my body weight into something positive. The amount of time I spend thinking about food is not normal. I've always been this way to a certain extent. When I was little I spent hours poring over the desserts in a dilapidated Betty Crocker cookbook. I never actually made them, but I liked to imagine the baking process step by step and the tastes that would result.

My preoccupation worsened, though, when I entered my teens and made an enemy of food. My recipe reading time quadrupled, as I voraciously consumed every diet and healthy cooking article on the internet. It became my mission to create the most low-calorie dishes possible that were still marginally edible. Have you seen For the Love of Nancy? In one scene, a gaunt Tracey Gold stands in the kitchen, slowly sorting every can and boxed meal in the house, oblivious to everything but the sight of foods she couldn't eat. I was a bit like that.

Obviously, by the time I moved in with Sweetie, graduated from college, landed my first "real" job and started this blog, I was not that crazy. But I still devoted too much energy to thinking about my figure and calorie consumption. Then I was introduced to a radical idea that circulated quickly through the women's health magazines: lose weight by not dieting. I read some articles about women who had dared to stop thinking about fats and carbohydrates and just eat what they wanted for a month. At first they would gorge on bagels, but the human body is a magnificent thing: when you eat nothing but cake and tacos, you get sick. Soon they learned to differentiate habit from real wants/needs. And when the next mini-meal wasn't constantly on their minds, their appetites steadied naturally.

I wanted to be like that, too. Worrying all the time is very tiring. So I started this blog to learn to appreciate food as food and not a series of multivitamins. I put effort into making my meals aesthetic. I take dozens of pictures and revel in descriptions. I acquire subject matter by exploring new sections of the grocery store. And I make sure everything I eat is darned tasty, because I wouldn't want to recommend anything bland or down-right bad to my readers.

So there you have it: an accurate explanation of why I'm a food blogger. You can still ask more questions of me here.

My First Bento

I pulled a bit of a bait and switch last week. I posted a number of different bento boxes, but actually bought a different pattern that I found the next day:


I liked the feminine flowers, though I wish they were a little more subdued. And I failed to notice the Playboy bunny in the corner--I thought it was just another blossom! Oh well. Sweetie's paying for it, since it was my early birthday present. And it's still mostly pretty.

The package arrived on Saturday, but I didn't have time to assemble a proper meal with it until today. Of course, the inaugural lunch needed to include onigiri:


As you can see, there was a bit of a squishing and nori-tearing incident. I've never had to portion my onigiri to fit in a particular space...obviously I need some practice!

The top tray came with little compartments "for pickled vegetables," according to the seller. Well, I just happened to have some pickled items in the form of olives, so I threw them in. Then I just hunted around my refrigerator to find things that would fit:


The fruit is the majority of a cut-up not-quite-ripe-enough peach. I would have preferred an apple, so I could stick that peach in a paper bag for a few more days, but I didn't have any lemon juice to preserve the apple slices (and ugly brown fruit would totally defeat the purpose of a pretty bento box). The second little compartment is filled with crushed pineapple, just because it's all I could find. I really need to get some more suitable options at Kroger this weekend.

Here's the bounty in full:


Okay, so it's not as impressive as Pikko's crazy concoctions, but she has tools and nimble fingers and I have very little patience. I think it looks nice. Not bad for my first attempt, eh?

Ma Po Tofu

When my family would visit our favorite Chinese restaurant in my teens, my parents would always order a particular dish that I would assiduously avoid. Ma Po Tofu--my tongue could barely handle the heat of hot & sour soup, never mind the fire bomb disguised as pork and bean curd. But after the Szechuan wraps I made on the weekend, I found myself craving another dose from that dragon-festooned bottle of sauce. As the one meat I happened to have thawed was lean ground beef, and as I have a habit of combining that beef with tofu whenever the opportunity arises (e.g. nikudofu, Rule Breaker, Taiwan Mushi...), Ma Po Tofu was the reasonable conclusion.

-1/4 pound lean ground beef (I use 90/10)
-fat-free chicken broth
-ginger powder
-Szechuan sauce (or hot Szechuan bean paste and peppercorns, if you want to go old school)
-1/4 a block of firm tofu, cubed
-udon or steamed rice

As these recipes usually go, I started by browning the beef. When it looked reasonably cooked I doused the saucepan (ahem, "wok") with about a 1/2 cup of chicken broth, a generous sprinkling of the ginger powder and as much Szechuan sauce as I could handle. I added the tofu and gave it a quick stir, then let it simmer as I turned my attention towards the boiling pot ready for udon.



Since I was using my tiny pot, there was a moment of worry here. But with a little coaxing those noodles were happy to submerge themselves.


I washed dishes for 10 minutes while the noodles cooked up...


...and the Ma Po Tofu cooked down.


When there were about 3 minutes left for the noodles, I added the magic to the tofu. I dissolved a teaspoon of cornstarch in a dash of cold water, then mixed it into the sauce. I left it to thicken while I drained the noodles and ladeled them into bowls. The noodles were topped with the meat mixture, then with a handful of bean sprouts for crunch and freshness.


No, you are not imagining the glaringly uneven distribution of tofu and beef. Sweetie makes sour faces when he sees tofu, so I put most of it in my bowl and gave him the majority of masculinity-assuring red meat.


This dish really hit the spot! The excess sauce made a lovely thick coating for the noodles. I liked the variety from the bean sprouts, though Sweetie could have done without (surprise, surprise). And aside from satisfying our tummies and taste buds, this dish also had the side effect of clearing our sinuses for the night ;D

Baked Fish Sticks with "The Poor Girl's Risotto"

First an announcement: I do have a Formspring page. I have answered a total of two questions so far, both automatically generated when I set up the account. They were pretty lame. If you have more thought-provoking questions about my life and opinions, feel free to poke and prod here. Or you could just email me or leave a comment like in that long ago age of 2009. Now moving on.

Sweetie used to love fish sticks. The kind in the bag with the bearded man in a raincoat. The kind I would bake for ten minutes and then spend another ten using an entire roll of paper towels to mop up the grease. So until last night, I fed him fish sticks no more.

But I have a stash of Tilapia fillets in the freezer who rarely see the light of day (fish and winter don't pair together), and it occurred to me when I saw someone else's post about breaded fish that I could make them myself. Why am I always so slow on the uptake? I should know by now that I can make anything that comes in colorful packaging with a little creativity. So.

Baked Fish Sticks
-two Tilapia fillets
-1 piece of stale bread
-1/2 cup panko
-salt and pepper to taste
-balsamic vinaigrette (or your favorite salad dressing)

I thawed the fish overnight, but they were just a tad icy when I took them out after work. That was okay, because it actually made them a little easier to work with (they weren't limp and flopping everywhere, but nice and firm). I cut them into strips like so:


I crumbled a piece of bread into a sandwich container. It didn't occur to me to take the crust off first, but I don't think it affected anything. I mixed the crumbs with the panko and salt and pepper.


I dipped each piece of fish in the salad dressing, then in the crumb mixture, piling a few crumbs on top to adjust for adherence difficulties. I laid the fish sticks out on an aluminum-covered baking pan.


The fish went into a 400° oven for 10 minutes before flipping and baking for another 5. In the mean time, I put together the "Poor Girl's Risotto."

-1 cup water
-3/4 cup fat-free chicken broth
-scant half cup orzo
-dried Italian herb mix (or personal use of parsley, oregano, etc.)
-handful of mushrooms, chopped

I combined the first four ingredients in a pot and brought it to a light boil. I turned the heat down and simmered for ten minutes, until the orzo had soaked in most of the water. I uncovered the pot, added the mushrooms and continued to cook it down until only a little excess liquid remained.


I served the two with a handful of olives on my plate and none on Sweetie's, because he fails to appreciate the beauty of the pickled fruit.


I was really surprised by how amazing the fish tasted! I preen for my genius idea of using salad dressing for the coating (actually, I did that so I wouldn't have to season the breading, but we'll call it genius instead). The orzo...eh. It looked like rice, smelled like risotto, but tasted like, well, rice-shaped pasta. Very smooth and bulbous with not much flavor to it--I think I'd actually prefer to just cook some wild rice next time.

Breakfast Burritos

I woke up alone yesterday. This was confusing and disorienting because, being a Sunday, Sweetie should have been conked out until 2pm. I found him on the couch in the living room, reading one of his textbooks.

"Why are you up so early?"
"My sleep gauge was full."

I asked if he had eaten breakfast; he said no. He asked what I would be making for myself, and he would piggy back.

"I'm not sure. Oatmeal maybe? Or pancakes? Maybe I should just have cereal today."
"Oh, so...breakfast foods."

Usually he wakes up late enough that I just feed him lunch, which he prefers. But hamburgers at 9am would be a bit of a stretch. My eyes snuck over to the tortillas I used for the Szechuan wraps the night before.

"Well, I could just make you a quesadilla or something."
"Quesadilla? English please?"

Indiana. I forgot that we were in Indiana.

Then he lit up. "Ooh! Breakfast burritos!"

I considered. I don't really like breakfast burritos--meat and cheese don't sit well with me in the morning. I opened the fridge for alternatives. Olives. Mushrooms. Hmm.

"Alright."

I sliced a little onion and sauted it with some mushrooms. I broke a handful of olives in half and added it to the mix.


I poured the veggies onto a tortilla and sprayed the pan again. Three beaten eggs went in over medium heat, along with a sprinkling of chili powder.


A quick scramble was sufficient before I removed them from heat--I relied from the heat remaining in the pan to finish setting up the eggs. I placed a griddle on the still-warm burner and placed a second tortilla on top. Two thirds of the eggs went on, along with some bacon strips and a sprinkling of cheddar cheese.


When the cheese had melted, I folded the tortilla over and slid it onto a plate for Sweetie. The other third of the eggs went onto my tortilla with its bed of vegetables.


We both had Berry V8 Splash with our "burritos," because Sweetie is trying to stave off further bouts of illness. I was genuinely surprised how tasty they were! I think the olives were the source of magic--their saltiness made the mushrooms and onions so much more appealing than they usually are on their own. I was still hungry afterwards, so I finished the meal with a juicy plum cold from the fridge.

Szechuan Chicken Wraps

The problem with working at a job that is 90% thumb-twiddling time is that I fill my hours with blogging and Food Network snippets. The problem with Food Network is that it is becoming increasingly diverse. Once the den of Emeril and Paula Dean showcasing variants of butter, sugar and spuds, the new "stars" introduce dishes I've never heard of before. And when I see dishes I've never heard of before, I want to try them. End result: my grocery bill at Kroger was significantly bulked this week.

First, a recipe sighting for pasta with Parmesan and olives pushed me to do something I've been intending to do for months: buy olives! I love olives, but the good ones can get pricey. Generic whole black ones were manageable, though. They were put to immediate use for lunch:


Yes, I just plopped them down on the pie without slicing. Sweetie thought it was freaky. I thought it was fun.

My next splurge wasn't caused directly by the FN--but the chef in "Big Daddy's House" sent me on a quest for daikon and I was scouring the produce section when my eyes alit on stone fruits.


That plum perched on top didn't survive long after the photo was taken.

I also picked up some new products that will appear one by one throughout the week, but now we will get to the meat of the matter. The dish of the day was dependent on these:


and this:


I had never used Szechuan sauce before, so I have no brand preferences. I picked this bottle solely for the big blue dragon.

After a late afternoon walk to work up an appetite, I got cooking.

Szechuan Chicken Wraps (inspired by Aaron McCargo, Jr. of "Big Daddy's House")
-6 oz. chicken breast
-1 carrot
-handful of bean sprouts
-Szechuan sauce
-two big leaves of romaine (or butter lettuce)
-two multigrain tortillas

Before I began, I steamed some rice for the side dish. I rubbed the chicken with salt and pepper and set them to fry over medium-high heat, turning when the bottoms browned.


I peeled and grated the carrot into a bowl and added the bean sprouts. I doused them with Szechuan sauce and set the mix aside.


I placed a tortilla on a dinner plate, and placed a leaf of lettuce in the center. I slathered half the vegetable mix over the leaf, then repeat with the second tortilla on another plate. The lettuce kept the sauce from making the tortillas soggy while the chicken finished cooking. When the chicken was ready, I arranged the pieces over the vegetables.


Beautiful! I rounded off the meal by dividing the rice into two bowls and topping one with vinegar (for me) and the other with soy sauce (for Sweetie).

The wraps were beyond tasty--if a tad messy. However, I was a little stupid. Since I had never used Szechuan sauce before, I had no idea how potent it was. When I got to the "dousing" stage I used a liberal hand. The first few bites of the wrap had a pleasant spice to them, but then I saw some sauce start to leak and slurped it up. That was a very, very bad move. Fortunately, the type of heat in the sauce is not the slow-burning kind, but the quick-to-dissipate kind. After a few minutes of picking at my rice, my taste buds returned to normal and I could continue (after letting the excess Szechuan drip off, of course). I definitely see repeats in my future, especially when my bento box arrives.

Banana-Almond Pancakes

Though it may be normally inconceivable, some days you just don't feel like oatmeal. Some days you will feel like cold cereal, but forgot to pick some up at the store last week. These are the days when the boxed mix comes down.

A couple weeks ago, I started reading JustJenn's recipe blog during the empty hours at work. A universally stupid move, because her photos leave me very hungry and with an unreasonably lengthened grocery list. One day she wrote about her idea for Nutella pancakes: regular pancakes "stuffed" with a glob of the chocolately hazlenut spread. I tried to do the same with peanut butter over the weekend (Bloomington, IN remember?) but the localized PB made for a too-intense center that I just ended up smearing around for flavor redistribution. But the idea of layering the yummy stuff inside a pancake before cooking stuck with me. On Thursday morning I countered the gloomy prospect of another early, icy drive to work by fixing a flavor-explosion variant: banana-almond pancakes.

-1/3 cup Hodgson Mill multigrain pancake mix
-1/3 cup light soy milk
-nutmeg and cinnamon to taste
-1/2 a banana, sliced
-2 tablespoons almonds, chopped

I combined the mix, soy milk, and spices and let them sit for five minutes while I chopped the almonds and did some dishes.


I heat a frying pan until the sprayed oil began to smoke, then poured half of the batter into a circular base. I arranged the banana slices and almonds to pretty effect.


Covered the stuffings with the rest of the batter...


...and prayed to Hestia that I could manage to flip it over without making a big sloppy mess. Well, Hestia's in a funk because her niece's down in Hades right now, so she let a couple of almonds and a banana slice fall out. I nudged them back underneathe and kept that side downward on the plate.


Numnumnum. I usually don't like cooked banana because of the strong scent, but these were mostly protected in their pancake shell. The crunchy nuts made me eat this ginormous pancake much slower than usual, which was good for my digestive system and hunger levels throughout the day but not so good for my reputation at work (I'm usually 15 minutes early, but I just eeked in on the hour that day). Methinks I see an encore in the near future.

A Turn For The Weird

I think all this blogging, blog-reading, and Food Network watching has corrupted me. In the early days of Amateur Nutritionist, my lunches were sane: PB&J. Grilled cheese. Turkey and swiss. Nice, normal American fare.

I think my downfall began that day I made that cursed pear melt. Since then, tradition has meant nothing to me. Now I'm down to the level of dinners like these:


(Tofu, steamed broccoli, mushrooms and rotini with vinaigrette--a go-to combination when the chips are down).

Or "burgers" like these:


(Last night's supper: baked mustard-slathered tofu with ketchup and romaine on a wheat roll)

Culminating in a lunch-time delight like this:


(Hard-boiled egg with roasted red pepper hummus and sprouts. Accompanied by an apple, naturally.)

And this is discounting the steamed dumplings, donburi, Green Monsters, chickpea blondies, and tuna-filled rice balls. I'm pretty certain that the average citizen would consider my weekly meal plans bizarre at best, and crazy at worst. However, I think I'm still on this side of "normal." When I start putting protein powder and chocolate chips into yogurt and calling it "dessert," you'll know I'm too far gone for salvation.

White Whole Wheat Nikuman

Last week, I couldn't resist picking up a bag of white whole wheat flour, the latest craze in the healthy baking world. White whole wheat isn't, as it sounds, bleached whole wheat, but instead made from a softer and lighter-colored species of grain than the traditional red spring wheat. It's nutritionally similar to whole wheat flour, but looks and acts like unbleached all-purpose.

Well, that was the theory. As I found out yesterday when I broke it open for manju, it's actually slightly different, which can be a good or bad thing depending on the dish. While forming the manju skins, I was surprised by how elastic the dough was. All-purpose dough is a little spongy and needs a firm hand, but this was very stretchy--which made my task easier.


The manju steamed up normally, but I had some difficulty removing them from the pan. "Stretchy" can be a bad thing when you're trying to separate fused dumplings; usually I can just tear them apart without much fuss.


This doesn't have anything to do with white whole wheat flour, but the green bean and mushroom miso soup I made for the side was just too pretty to escape my shutter-bug tendencies.


As you can see, the "white" whole wheat is actually significantly darker than all-purpose, but you would only notice if you've made a particular food several times and knew the sight well. We also noticed that these white whole wheat manju were mysteriously sweeter than usual. I thought it might have been an illusion, because for a while we've been eating vinegar-doused onigiri instead.

But when I made a new batch of rolls later, my suspicions were confirmed: they definitely smelled sweeter than my usual bread. It's a bizarre sweetness--not plain sugar, not molasses--more like the scent of wild grass in a humid summer. According to the nutrition panels, each cup of whole wheat flour has 0.5g of sugar, and a cup of all-purpose has 0.3g. On the other hand, a cup of white whole wheat flour has 4g--about the same as a teaspoon of granulated sugar. It's nothing to obsess over, but it's good to know we weren't hallucinating. It's also a little encouraging to know that our daily added sugar intake is low enough that we can detect such a difference.

Apple-Spice Muffins

I threatened yesterday to make a batch of apple-spice muffins from a recipe I found on a Glamour blog. Last night, faced with a kitchen completely devoid of baked goods (that sandwich roll yesterday was the last of my stash), I followed through with not so stellar results.

The original recipe had some pretty exotic ingredients that I didn't want to drive through the snow to acquire. I made a series of substitutions instead to come up with my own recipe:

Apple-Spice Muffins
-1 egg
-1/4 cup canola oil
-2 small apples, grated (I used Honey Crisp)
-1/4 cup granulated sugar
-1 cup whole wheat flour
-1/4 cup ground flax seed
-1/2 cup oats (originally oat bran)
-cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger to taste
-1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
-1 teaspoon baking soda

I beat the egg and oil together, then grated the apples straight into the bowl. I folded in the the dry ingredients until just mixed and placed them by the spoonful into muffin tins (I really should get liners some time--so much scrubbing!). After 15 minutes in 350°, I pulled out a softly scented crop of muffins


Straight out of the oven, I was pretty disappointed. The muffins are puny. The apple taste is extremely subtle, and the texture was dense. However, I fortuitously froze the batch, and the next day they were greatly improved.


Yes, I do feel the shame of eating them alongside soup from a can that boasts "The official soup/chili of the NFL." But beggers can't be choosers. After 12 hours, the muffins were tender and slightly sweet, and the aroma of cinnamon and nutmeg punched through. The oats gave them a pleasant chewiness as well. However, the "apple" aspect is still missing--possibly because I left out a 1/3 cup of applesauce in favor of an egg for binding.

I also don't like eating two at a time. Not for calorie considerations or anything, but the best part of a muffin is the fluffy insides and increasing the surface area is just a waste. According to the Glamour blog, each muffin is only 100-some calories, so I won't feel guilty in the slightest by doubling the recipe to make 12 decently sized muffins next time. I won't double the oil, though, and instead increase the number of apples to up the bulk and flavor.

Sprouts!

I really loved the sandwiches I made for lunch the week before last (before Mother Nature boxed me into the apartment, leading me to make sullen mid-day meals of pancakes and ramen). However, there was something maddeningly pedestrian about them, despite my attempts at sophistication via hummus. Lunch meat, processed cheese, and fast-wilting romaine--a tasty and filling combination, but it doesn't pop out in memory. A moment of weakness in the produce section at the grocery store remedied that for today's masterpiece:


Sprouts! I've always loved alfalfa sprouts, even as a kid generally inclined towards Velveeta shells and Oreo O's. Maybe my father's name for them, "rabbit food", made them especially appealing; studies have shown that kids will eat up to 50% more vegetables if they have "cool" names like X-ray Vision Carrots and Dinosaur Broccoli Trees. But even as an adult, there's something addictive about the grassy smell, soft crunchy texture, and the way they clump so conveniently together on a sandwich.

Now, as always, I will bring forth my issues: the first few bites of this sandwich were absolute torture. A couple weeks ago, I came to work feeling deathly ill. You all know about my tummy problems, but this was different--as if I had contracted the king of all stomach viruses. Even when I'm at my lowest, my acid reflux doesn't make me feel like throwing up, but on this day I was compelled to prop open the bathroom door with a trash can just in case. In desperation I came up with an idea: I forced myself to eat a hard-boiled egg. You can imagine how fun that was. But, as predicted, ten minutes later I was right as rain. The real culprit wasn't a virus, but low blood sugar.

Since then, I've experienced the same thing on and off, usually in the morning (and I know what that sounds like--no, I'm not pregnant). Today, despite a hearty breakfast of peanut butter and banana oatmeal at 8, by 11 I was forcing a smile to visitors and wretching at the smell of the strawberry air freshener in the restroom. I assembled the sandwich and took a few unappealing bites, then put it down for five minutes until I could stand the sight of it again. It didn't taste good until halfway through, which is a terrible waste!

Hypochondriac that I am, now I'm worrying that it's an early sign of hypoglycemia. But in all likelyhood I just need to eat more. Time to get back in the kitchen to make some handy snacks: I saw a recipe for apple-spice muffins that I'd like to try with my new white wheat flour tonight.

Bento Boxes

The beautiful arrangement you see above was my lunch for today. Yesterday I made this for dinner...

...and it was easy to make double the rice and squish the remainder around half a can of tuna with Miracle Whip. With an apple and a Dove dark chocolate heart, I am content.

I'm content with the food, that is. I am not happy with the presentation. The ugliness of that plastic sandwich box may be partially disguised by a cleverly placed leaf of romaine, but I had to squish my onigiri down to fit the warped transparent lid over the top. Though I'm not the best photographer in the blogosphere, you should get some sense that I like my meals to be pretty. I am not the sort to happily drink a smoothie that looks like cement or make anything with the word "mess" in the title (sorry, applesauce-yogurt-cereal-PB fans).

Mild detour: last night the weeks of snow and irregular scheduling epitomized in one of the identity crises essential to the life of any 21-year-old in the Western world. It wasn't a real crisis, because I have no problem with myself or my life direction--it was more like a severe case of Cabin Fever. And my position in life is the cabin. All the little miseries piled up: the holes in my shirts, the apathy of my boss towards her job (I'm an INTJ, so slackers in authority really bother me), and especially the financial limitations on my ability to buy nice things. I don't want leather couches or big-screen TVs, but I wish I could escape the wave of guilt that prevents me from buying eye liner or soy ice cream.

Sweetie (tried to) convince me that if there's some treat that would greatly impact my happiness, I shouldn't worry about the expense. He offered to accompany me to Macy's next weekend, but that's overkill. My retail therapy will be executed elsewhere: at Amazon. If there's one thing that's guaranteed to lift my spirits once a day, it's one of these bento boxes.


This one with owls was the first to catch my eye. It's subdued, but still fun. At $16, it seems to be mid-range for two-tiered bentos. The differently toned photos are confusing, but the lid is a deep red "burgundy" color.


The blue metallic rabbits are the cheapest option at $13. Though there is a bit of cute overload, this was infinitely better than the same one in pink. Trust me.


I adore this cat! But I don't know how I'd feel taking out a bright red lunch box at work everyday. The elastic band that comes with it is even gaudier--and it's on the more expensive end of the spectrum ($20). Big plus though: it's rectangular.

If I stay in keeping with my usual conservative fashion choices, I'll probably pick the most subdued option: this rabbit/moon pattern. I'm not very happy about the rabbit, though. Rabbits are mean, vicious creatures. And it's the wrong year. I'm a Dragon.

I could poke around for other options, but the ones I've found elsewhere were shaped like animals or have ridiculous phrases printed on them like "the leaves are trembling in the breeze" or, more incomprehensibly, "U Ra Ra".


What do you think?