Eric isn’t one of those milk and cereal guys. We tried it once to save money. He ate half a box and was still hungry. Nope. Not cheaper and he wasn’t happy with it. He only ended up with “milk tummy.” So, I’ve had to learn to conquer the hungry man breakfast and I’ve had to learn to conquer eggs. Now, I’m  not an egg girl. Actually, when I eat them I feel ill…unless of course they’ve been added to cakes, turned into a meringue or creme brulee. But, if just cooked up, I can’t do them. Weird. I know.

Back to breakfast battles…. Eric’s sandwich of choice is inspired by McDonalds and one should know just by source of inspiration that there is nothing remotely healthy about this sandwich. It’s a sausage, bacon, egg, and cheese bagel. It’s intense. Sure, we cut out a few calories with a bagel thin- but when you’ve got a quarter pound of sausage and bacon on something, cutting calories is like having a diet coke with your supersized big mac meal. It doesn’t work.

Now, having made Eric these glorious sandwiches and getting dubbed “spouse without papers” of the year, I decided that maybe we should try and offer him some healthier alternatives. Enter creativity.

Attempt 1:

1/2 sprouted wheat bagel

1 poached egg

1 slice Canadian Bacon

A few leaves of spinach

Sprinkled parmesan cheese.

Eric’s Review: I don’t like wheat bagels. (But at least he didn’t complain about the green stuff)

Attempt 2:

1 Slice Sourdough Bread

2 Scrambled Eggs

Ham

Eric’s Review: “I don’t like Sourdough Bread.” (I think you can see a pattern here)

Hakuna Matata Frittata (or not)

Attempt 3: Frittata (Yep, this one has a name)

4 eggs

3 basil leaves chopped

1 green bell pepper

1/2 red onion

Polish Kielbasa Beef Sausage

Salt and Pepper to taste

Eric’s Review: “I don’t like the texture of fluffy eggs.”

Sprouted wheat bagel with Beef Polish Kielbasa Sausage, Basil, Fried Egg, Cheddar and Parmesan

Attempt 4:

Sprouted Whole Wheat Bagel (cuz I don’t care if Eric doesn’t like it)

2 Fried Eggs

Beef Polish Kielbasa Sausage

Chopped Basil

Sprinkled Parmesan and Cheddar

Eric’s Review: You guessed it. “Other than the fact that I don’t like the bagel, all I could taste was basil.”

Attempt 5: Omelet

2 Egg Omelet with 1 Slice American Cheese

Topped with:

Beef Polish Kielbasa Sausage

Sauteed Bell Peppers

Eric’s Review: “This is awesome, baby.”

Yes, I finally did hit one out of the park. Was it the healthiest alternative? Nope. But it wasn’t the 950 calorie sandwich that I was making him before. I think you should be able to play and not be afraid of ingredients. Yeah, I don’t eat eggs, but I’m fortunate enough that Eric tells me when I get it right and when I don’t. It’s not personal, but it’s based on a personal palate. On that note, I encourage you to explore and try new things. Rock the boat and go for it!

When I first started dating Eric, he was eating canned or frozen something for every meal. His go-to can of choice? A can of Amy’s Chili. Now, I do give him props for at least choosing something natural and organic, but the can strips so many of the awesome nutrients that are vital to Eric’s health. And, let’s face it, I’m kind of hoping to keep the guy around for several more decades. I’ve grown quite fond of him. Sigh….

Each morning, I prepare lunch for Eric and try to pack as many vegetables in there as he won’t notice. Sometimes I can get in quite a few. Other times, I get the “honey, I appreciate that you were trying a new recipe but why all those vegetables?” It’s a fine line, but someone has got to walk it. So lately, I’ve been drawing inspiration from Eric’s former bad  habits. The man loves chili. However, I don’t have the time (or the crock pot) to really develop a nice, full flavored chili that would make New Mexico and Southern Colorado proud. Instead, I chop some vegetables. Eric is a fan of bell peppers, onions, corn, etc. I sautee those vegetables in olive oil to soften them up. I then add in some more meat. Sometimes it’s ground turkey. Sometimes it is smoked beef sausage. Other times its good ol’ hamburger. I cook up the meat and really extract the flavors of the vegetables. Then I add in a can of chili. The flavors of a can of chili aren’t terrible. They just need some doctoring. Eric tends to prefer more salt, pepper, and a little more heat (cayenne).

Anyway, it’s a quick, easy meal that packs a little more nutritional POW! than the traditional can of chili. Plus, Eric starts running around going “yummy, yummy, yummy, I got love in my tummy.” Yes. He’s that cute.

Have a great day!

Lately, Eric and I have been watching a lot of “Restaurant Impossible,” “Kitchen Nightmares” and “Worst Cooks in America.” Failing restaurants have their menus reduced to 8-10 dishes because you need to have a good foundation. Variety is nice, but not if it is crap variety. So, while I was driving home thinking about this, it occurred to me that I don’t necessarily have 8-10 dishes that are restaurant quality show stoppers. I might have one or two, but  certainly not 8-10. I realized that I don’t have a foundation and that perhaps (if I really loved myself and Eric) I might want to build one.

So, I looked back in how I developed my horsemanship. I started with a foundation and once I had a handle on the principles and techniques, then (and only then) could  I extrapolate and start creating more of an art to my horsemanship. I was no longer painting by number but painting freestyle yet with finesse. The game hasn’t changed, just the way and level that I play it at. This is how I will be approaching cooking.

On Friday evening, I made my first attempt at roasting a whole chicken. I wasn’t raised with roasted whole chicken, so it is certainly not part of my childhood foundation or comfort zone. I followed the recipe carefully with one notable exception- I made the assumption that I knew where the breast was. On “Worst Chef in America,” Chef Anne Burrell described identifying the chicken the same way you would find the breasts on the women. If it ain’t soft and tender, you aren’t touching the breast. Welp, I drowned my breasts…err…my chicken’s breasts. The rest of it was golden, crispy and great. I also found out that I have really hard to over season.

So, what was the point of this blog post? It’s all about the foundation. Whether it be knife skills or locating a chicken’s breast, you’ve got to have a good foundation. Yep, I’m working on my foundation. Cheers!

- excerpt from the poem I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

As I write this, I’m sick…as in sick sick. Eric has what he calls “Patterns sick” as his benchmark and I have what I call “Chicago sick” as mine. Chicago sick occurred in January 2010 during my first visit to Chicago. I got a cold, then a fever, then major sinus congestion and then Chicago decided to just make it all suck. I’m not quite Chicago Sick right now, but I still feel icky.

At any rate, my inner muse. 2011 is proving to be a challenging year to throw myself into the kitchen. I’m still working on my waistline and I have a habit for trending all things fattening (hence the title of this blog). Nevertheless, muses are still necessary and right now I’m drawing from a source of inspiration that has been near an dear to me since the 6th grade: Maya Angelou. I was introduce to Maya Angelou because I didn’t want to do my history project with my two BFF’s on Gallileo (they came up with a brilliant project by the way). I instead opted to portray a female pioneer. Yep, Maya Angelou played by me…a naive white girl who is still only learning the true meaning of those words in her novels over a decade later.

The words of Maya Angelou have been heard by Presidents, nations, and well most of us alike. She brings a level of poetry that speaks to the soul and brings us home to our own notion of being…like coming home to fried chicken and mashed potatoes and still being aware of the calorie count. You get a sense of the depth of life…the joy, the pain, the consequence, the ying and the yang. Yes, her poetry is beautiful.

And on that note, I’m tying back to cooking now. My muse Ms. Angelou has several cookbooks. She talks about cooking with intention and cooking with love. And since Eric and my major love language is food, I couldn’t really agree more. In The Welcome Table, Maya Angelou shares a lifetime of stories and recipes and food. Haven’t tried it, but I’m certainly planning on it.

By the title alone, I’m inspired. Yes. Welcome. Welcome to my table. Welcome to my life. Welcome to the love I have to give. Welcome to freedom!

So, back to the beets. Yes, its true and, while my Weiler man cannot necessarily join me on this assertion, I do in fact love beets. More specifically, I am in love with a beet soup recipe that I pulled out of Bon Appetit Magazine . Normally, I would talk about the texture, the flavor, the depth and I can’t really do that this time. I’m still discovering what my tastebuds want to say. The words that match their description have not quite formed. But there is a bit of a story to this.

Eric and I have signed up to receive a weekly box of locally grown, organic produce (Abundant Harvest Organics for those of you in the So Cal area). It’s like Iron Chef or Chopped in a box. Each week we get something different and it is all in season. Plus, it makes us work outside our comfort zone. We could spend a lifetime eating asparagus, broccoli, spinach, cauliflower, zucchini, green beans and spinach…or in Eric’s case just the asparagus. We could. But, we’d be missing out on a lot of what nature has to offer and on that important link back to the seasonality of the Earth. I’m sure that there is still a big debate as to whether or not seasonality has any effects on our digestion, but I for one believe in it.

A couple weeks ago we got beets in our box. I don’t exactly have experience with them other than eating them as a salad with goat cheese at a friends Christmas party. So I knew I didn’t hate them. I hadn’t made up my mind as to how much I like them. So I see the beets and I see a beet soup recipe in Bon Appetit and I decide that this is it. I’m going for it and stepping out of the comfort zone.

My first attempt didn’t go so well. Burned the beets. But, luckily a friend gifted me some beets and I got to go for it again. Didn’t quite have all the ingredients but (as Tim Gunn would say) I made it work. Maybe I overdid the fennel just a teensy weensy bit, but personally I loved it. Eric didn’t. Oh well.

Anyway, if any of you want to get into some beet action, check the recipe out below:

Beet and Fennel Soup with Kefir

Food styling tip

To make the heart-shape design in this soup spoon small drops of kefir onto the soup. Run the tip of a paring knife through the center of the round drop of kefir, creating a heart shape.

Preparation

• Heat olive oil in large saucepan over medium heat. Add chopped onion, chopped fennel, and fennel seeds. Sauté until vegetables soften, about 5 minutes. Add cubed beets and stir to coat. Add chicken broth and bring to boil. Cover; reduce heat to medium-low. Cook until beets are tender, 18 to 20 minutes. Puree soup in batches in blender. Return to same saucepan. Whisk in 1 cup unflavored kefir and season soup with salt and freshly ground black pepper. Rewarm soup.
• Ladle soup into bowls. Drizzle with additional unflavored kefir; garnish with fennel fronds

As I type this, I am working on completing what I would consider to be the holy trinity of my family’s Christmas: tree, christmas picture and fudge (yes, I got a food component in there). You see, I grew up with fairy tale Christmas seasons. We were taught to appreciate the reason for the season; we were taught to give to those less fortunate; we were taught that if we were naughty Santa wouldn’t deliver anything on Christmas morning. And my brother and I were good Santa’s naughty list fearing children. In my opinion, we were angels (with a hint of something else).

Anyway, Christmas is special to us and not just because it is Christ’s birth. Christmas is also the day of my grandmother’s birth and the one major time each year that we come together as a family and revel in our happiness. Back to the holy trinity, the absolute center piece of our Christmas is the tree and the tree has always been somewhat of an event. And by somewhat, I mean that we would usually go through 5 trees each year before my mom had “the tree” that was right for that year. Which tree was most memorable? The white fir. Arguably, it was the most gorgeous tree we ever had. At the same time, it smelled like cat piss as its nickname is also the piss fir. So step one is getting the tree. Step two is lighting the tree and we like our Christmas trees to be genuine fire hazards. A typical tree will have anywhere from 8-17 strands of lights on it and will take upwards of 12 hours to complete (and that is just the stringing of the lights). And then there is Step 3: hanging ornaments. We have a system. Sturdy, unbreakable ornaments go on the bottom. Sacred fragile ornaments go on the top. Seems straight forward. Then we have sections of the tree. We have Little Mexico, Bear Town, New Mexico Mission Town, Horseville, Germantown, and then the miscellaneous groups that bring it altogether. So a tree is a commitment in our household.

The second part of my family’s holy trinity is the Christmas card. My mother is a phenomenal, world class photographer who I feel is second to none (slight bias). Well, how do you think she got there? Yes, she’s got phenomenal talent. Yes, she’s got a distinct and artistic eye. Yes, she’s passionate about photography. The other component is that she’s had a lot of practice. While my brother and I can take absolutely no credit for the development of her photographic genius, we can say that we contributed to it through our wonderful patience in 18+ years of Christmas cards. So naturally, the Christmas card is beyond important to me. It’s the one time a year that I feel a closeness to my mother’s photographic history and while I do poke fun at the multiple hour sessions she “dragged” us through as kids, I’m beyond grateful. They’re beautiful and I will willingly put my (possible) future children through the same process because it was and is so completely worth it. And this year is extra special as Onion, Eric and I are having our first family portrait session together with none other than my momma, the fabulous Coco.

Finally, we have the third component of our holy trinity: Christmas fudge. This tradition comes from my great grandmother, Lilly May Pugh Ferguson. She was a firecracker. I’m thinking the fact that she eloped in her mid-eighties might illustrate that fact a bit more emphatically. So, my “Grammy”, the pistol that she was, was also a maker of fudge and not just any fudge: Pugh Family Peanut Butter Fudge. Now, I haven’t been able to locate her recipe and as I recall it had corn syrup in it and I will never willingly purchase corn syrup for this household . So, I had to locate a recipe that was close enough for jazz (as Eric would say) and….drum roll….I found it! Again it’s not quite it, but it’s pretty good. Here’s the recipe:

2 cups sugar

3/4 cup milk

1 cup peanut butter

1 cup marshmallow fluff (Julia Child rolls her eyes now)

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Basically, combine milk and sugar and bring to boil. You are going to add in the remaining ingredients once the sugar/milk mixture comes to the “soft ball stage”. Translation? Basically, you drop a little bit of the hot syrup mixture into a cold bowl of water. If it forms a ball and is still soft enough to squeeze together it has entered the soft ball stage. Mix ingredients together until fully combined. Remove from heat and pour into a baking sheet. Put in the fridge until solid. Then it’s done. Yeah, pretty easy.

So tonight, you can imagine me tangled in lights and covered in peanut butter fudge while planning ornament placement and a Christmas photo session. ‘Tis the holiday season alright! Hugs to all!

So as I sit here digesting what has proven to be a fairly decent meal, I’m focusing on a sense of renewal. I’ve renewed my commitment to my family. I’ve renewed my commitment to Eric and I’ve certainly renewed my commitment to myself and the practice and attitude of gratitude. Aside from that, I’ve learned a lot about Thanksgiving and how it is not necessarily what we’ve always thought.

For instance, Turkey was not served at the first Thanksgiving. While it was widely available, it didn’t make it to the table. Also, the natives coming to the Pilgrims feast was a complete surprise. And Thanksgiving was not given an actual date until President Abraham Lincoln. So Thanksgiving is not the grade school image that we’ve made it out to be. Experimentation is certainly up for grabs and tradition may be open to modernization.

So this year we’ve continued our tradition of making our pilgrimage to Scottsdale to see Eric’s family (something we both treasure). As for experimentation, I did play with the mashed potatoes. Irish butter is a staple, but heavy cream in place of milk can take mashed potatoes to a whole other stratosphere. And while russets are the gold standard, red potatoes bring a creaminess that is simply phenomenal.

Also, while many brine the bird, dry brining or a salt rub can do the trick as well. It boosts flavor and produces a beautiful crispy skin. We also learned that at 165 degrees, a turkey is technically done  and that if you don’t want to over cook the breast you can cook the butt and the breast separately (Food Network rocks).

I guess the point of this post is that Thanksgiving is a time for tradition and modernization. It’s a time when you can define your own tradition which may or may not involve a bird, pie, etc. The point is that the “what” is only important when you’re surrounded by the “who” that matters or the “who” that you choose to matter. Happy Thanksgiving everyone! From our hearts to you! Happy Thanksgiving!

You see, this past week I had to end a diet and I had to tell my mother why I ended the diet- I have an eating disorder. Does this mean that I am not eating? Nope. Does this mean that I am purging every time I eat. Nope. I’m catching something early on. I have come to believe that- like an addict- once you have an eating disorder you will always have one. It will be something that you struggle with daily until you finally address the issues that created it in the first place.

A friend said that there is nothing that feels better in the world than being skinny. I’d have to disagree. There is no better feeling than when you stop eating and lose 17 pounds in a week and you drop 40+ pounds in a month and a half. There is nothing better than the feeling of the control it requires to be able to do that. Basically, you’re skinny and in control. It’s addicting and it is flat out dangerous.

I first developed became anorexic and bulimic in college and I’d say it was one of convenience. It happened twice and both times were following break ups. It was a result of not being willing to face my emotions. I loved it. It felt great and I was completely in denial. Looking back,  it was my result of extreme emotional introversion. I attacked myself.

I am by no means an expert on eating disorders or even that well versed in them, but I do know that the binge and purge cycle is common. The purge for me is my introversion and my control. The binge is the extroversion and walking away from control. When my mother had her aneurysm, I walked away from controlling my life to feel like I had more of a say in hers. A lot of pant sizes later, I’ve been stuck with the consequences. And now, like being in debt, I’m working my way out slowly. It’s the slowly that is the challenge.

Why am I bringing this up? As a student of Parelli and life in general, I look for patterns. And the first step in the change process is identifying and acknowledging the pattern; then you interrupt the pattern. This is my attempt at the pattern acknowledgement and my first step towards a pattern interrupt. My binge and purge pattern doesn’t only apply to my eating. It applies to other areas as well. Again, symptoms not cause.

So in bringing this up, I want to encourage everyone to look at themselves in the mirror and by mirror I mean your body and your life. Where is the excess and where are you depriving yourself? The goal is balance…not too much…not too little. The Goldilocks of just right. Where can you create better balance? Emotional. Mental. Physical. Spiritual. Combination thereof. It’s all about finding your center, looking in the mirror, and accepting what you see as the present. We’re all a work in process teetering on the brink of everything and looking for our long lost balance.

Here’s to a new day.

Chinese Fuyu Persimmons

For those of you (like me) who grew up completely unaware of what persimmon is, here’s a little info. Derived from a Powhatan word meaning “dry fruit,” persimmons are a tomato looking fruit that are technically classified as a berry. Persimmons come in several varieties of which I’m familiar with the flat Chinese Fuyu variety and the heart shaped Japanese Hachiya variety. The Fuyu are the type that are best when eaten straight off the tree (like an apple) whereas the Hachiya are your standard cooking variety.

I was first introduced to persimmons while working at the American Horticultural Society in Alexandria, Virginia. Located on the beautiful and historic George Washington River Farm, the American Horticultural Society had several persimmon trees on its grounds. Members would love to come and pick persimmons from the trees for their baking each year. Unfortunately, every year over Thanksgiving someone would trespass and strip the trees of their fruit leaving none for the members or local community. So the one year I happened to work there, we beat them to the chase. We went out and picked all of the fruit giving as much as we could to the locals and then donating the rest to the Food Bank. It’s a nice story that brings back some of my DC nostalgia. Also, for those of you who have a passion for gardening and horticulture, you should certainly check out the American Horticultural Society. They are a tremendous resource and put out some great information.

Anyway, back to present day (somewhat). Last week, a friend asked if we would take her weekly box of organic produce that she receives from a local CSA. Being self proclaimed  food whores, we don’t say no to food. Low and behold there were three pounds of persimmons. What does one do with three pounds of persimmons? Bake.

The CSA box came with several persimmon recipes which I’ve enclosed below. I opted for the persimmon muffins and the boys (my brother and ye ol’ Eric) loved LOVED them. 25 muffins were consumed within 24 hours. Now I call that a home run!

Persimmon Raisin Cookies

Preheat oven 350 degrees F

2 Cups White Sugar

1 Cup Shortening

2 Eggs

4 Cups Flour

1 Tsp Salt

2 Tsp Baking Soda

2 Tsp Ground Cinnamon

2 Tsp Ground Nutmeg

2 Cups Persimmon Pulp

2 Cups Raisins

2 Cups Copped Walnuts

Lightly Grease two baking sheets. Cream the sugar and shortening together until light and fluffy. Beat in the eggs. Stir in the flour, salt, baking soda, cinnamon and nutmeg. Mix in the persimmon pulp, raisins and walnuts. Drop by spoonfuls on cookie sheets. Bake about 10-12 minutes.

Persimmon Bread

Despite the terrible picture, the persimmon muffins were quite delish!

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F

1 Cup Persimmon Pulp

2 Tsp Baking Soda

3 Cups Sugar

1 Cup Vegetable Oil or Applesauce

4 Eggs

1 1/2 Tsp Ground Cinnamon

1/2 Tsp Ground Nutmeg

1 1/2 Tsp Salt

2/3 Cup Water

3 Cups Flour

1 Cup Chopped Walnuts or Pecans

Lightly grease three 6×3 inch loaf pans. Stir together the persimmon pulp and baking soda. Let stand for 5 min to thicken the pulp. In a larger bowl mix together remaining ingredients. Fold in nuts and persimmon pulp. Divde into three pans. Bake for 1 hour or until toothpick inserted comes out clean. Cool before removing. Also can be put in muffin tins an baked for a lesser time period.

Also, as I type this I’m waiting on my latest batch which happens to be gluten free. From what I’ve tasted thus far, they turned out great. Just substitute gluten free baking flour for the wheat flour in the recipe. Happy baking (and happy holidays)!

Aarti Sequiera was this season’s winner of the “The Next Food Network Star.” While she did have a great on screen presence, she was the one star that had me wanting to try her recipes. Her “thing” is to infuse Indian Flavors with traditional American cuisine. And while I don’t love everything that she’s ever come up with, I like most of it. Case in point: the Ugly Duckling Salad (aka the salad that Eric actually ate).

The ugly duckling salad is simple and I really, REALLY like simple. Your main ingredients are spinach, Fuji apple and celeriac root. The dressing is a warm pistachio dressing and it is heavenly. I’m not a fan of salads, but I certainly love this salad.

It reminds me a bit of pesto- garlic, lemon, and a little nutiness. It’s simply brilliant.

In terms of my take on the salad, I’ve had a tough time sourcing celeriac root recently, so I’ve made it a bit more simple. I’ve taken out the apple and the celery root and have replaced it with Shrimp. And, though I haven’t tried it yet, I’m thinking that adding some parmesan in there would be most excellent.

As for Aarti, simplicity is what I love best. She has an air of sophistication in her recipes without tons of instructions, steps or hours of prep. Her show is every Sunday morning (we record it) and if you like the smell of cinnamon, cardamom, or garlic, you’ll like her show.

Cheers!