Pull Up A Chair, Grab A Fork And Enjoy or Ignore The Dishes

So I was having some people over for a meal, nothing formal although given the amount of preparation and planning on my part you’d think it was going to be more formal. I know that my friends weren’t coming over for a five-star meal (woe to any of them that suspected I could pull that off in the first place), but I still wanted to provide a variety of flavors and textures for people to enjoy.

I should point out that I’m not trained as a cook so this is all just crossing of my fingers, hoping and praying it turns out relatively decent.  So far this has worked for the most part, although there was the seafood stew disaster, but let’s not go there.

So I visited several different shops, pulled out a million pots and pans (okay not really that many) and cooked.  People came over and enjoyed themselves so ago od time was had by all.  And the mountain of dishes from all the cooking? They were behind a closed-door in the kitchen so they were easy to ignore while company was over.

After everyone left the dishes could be tackled, cleaned and put away until next time.  After I have recovered from this whirlwind of breaking bread with people who matter in my life.  Because what’s a few dishes between friends?

I’m Dreaming Of Food…Or Channeling My Inner Chipmunk

Today I’ve been dreaming about food.  Well dreaming is probably the wrong word, lusting is probably more accurate.  I have been lusting after food today.  No don’t misunderstand dear friends, I love good food and I love sharing it with people I enjoy so it’s not unusual for me to think about food.  I’ve been known to plan whole menus as a means of pleasantly passing time and I’ve no shame in this either.

However today I’ve been running on the see food, think food, desire food sort of cycle.  I blame my medications partially for this shift in my food relationship.  I also blame people sharing delicious ideas and placed with me all in a very short period of time.  This sharing lead me to feel like I need to try it all, right now.  Not that I’m complaining about people sharing these things with me; whether we break bread together or separately but shared experiences I think is a wonderful thing indeed.

The thing is, though, between my medication, my lupus flare and the insane hamster on the wheel that is my brain, I fee exhausted just trying to figure out what to do and try and when.  And of course this makes my health teeter totter a bit more.  Again I am not complaining for I am blessed, truly blessed to have wonderful people to share food with and more importantly to not having to worry about where the next meal comes from.  I just need to tame the lusting of said food into something more manageable so food isn’t falling off my plate!

Ready, Set, Nibble or What’s Your Favorite

This time of year there are all sorts of lovely breads being baked.  Buns are being made and marked with crosses.  Chocolate comes around in the shape of eggs and bunnies.  All sorts of lovely meals and feasts are planned for loved ones to join around the table.

And for some reason around this time of year I wonder why I always choose this time to try and lose weight.  Perhaps its spring cleaning of sorts, but around Easter I always feel I need to drop the weight.  The weight I gain from my medications.  The weight I have gained from all the time I haven’t been mobile enough to do the whole calorie deficit thing.

The problem is, while I feel a need to lose the weight I also find all sorts of delicious things to sample.  New food is brought forth that must be tried and frequently ends up being devoured rather than savoured.  Unless the food happens to be a chocolate Easter bunny.  Then everything is fine because for some reason I can’t eat them.  Not a nibble on the old ears or a sample of fun the tail.

As for chocolate eggs, I think those are better left for others to find because eating them isn’t my cup of tea either.  Some maybe I will give you all the bunnies and eggs for brad and buns and other delights!

The Blues Bring Me Home

The Laundromat Blues were playing, the candles were lit, the smell of biscuits and delta southern food was in the air and al was well.  Sometimes I just need to capture the delta in the house here.  Even if I can’t get the air in the house heavy enough to hold in my hand.  I suspect if I did find a magical way to bring that kind of heat and humidity into the house Beloved wouldn’t cross the door’s threshold.  He just doesn’t seem to appreciate it even if it has the power to pull the most stubborn of wrinkles straight out of your clothes.

He will eat the biscuits though, slathered in butter with honey or jam on them.  Provided the house isn’t too hot.  The rest of the food is a crapshoot with him.  Too spicy and he won’t eat it.  Too heavy and he won’t eat it.  Too salty and he won’t eat it.  Too “weird” and he won’t eat it.  He can’t fathom eating crawfish and sucking the juice out of their heads.  And catfish?  He won’t eat anything that feeds off the bottom of the water.

So biscuits were made, corn, beans with ham hocks, cooked greens and the closet I could get to what I wanted was chicken “fried” chicken complete with white gravy.  Beloved loves chicken “fried” chicken and can’t understand why people might want to do that to a steak.  And since it’s not really fried he will happily consume it, but not the greens or beans.    Which is fine with me because it just means there’s enough for multiple meals for me.

So when Beloved heard the music, smelled the food before he sat at the table he knew it was my way of bring a bit of me to here.  He also knew that home is captured in many different ways, tantalizing more than one of our senses.  And he knew that to say anything about wanting Thai or some other type of food would just lead to a different kind of blues for him.  And as much as Beloved loves to sing, he hates singing the blues!

Eating Greens Dog Style or Pass The Peas

Eat your greens lately?  Have some nice dark, leafy things?  If not my four-footed companion has some ideas for you.  Such as nibble on the African Violet in the pot you can reach.  Or maybe you want something more delicate like a fern leaf.  No?  How about some sweet blades of grass when they are in season?

I noticed some odd things happening to the green leaves on my African Violet the other day.  Jagged little bits here and there.  I couldn’t figure out what caused it.  Thankfully my four-footed one heard me considering this mystery and  decided to solve it for me.  By showing me.  She takes a bites out of the leaves and then spits them out on the floor.

After observing her in the wild of my house, I noticed she does the same with the fern too.  And I caught her early in the year doing the same with the grass.  She’s got her own version of picky.

And to prove she’s willing to try new things, she has sampled lettuce that has fallen on the floor as well as spinach.  She is not a fan of either of these items, but carrots are acceptable.  And watch your fingers if you drop some apple and try to reduce it.  You may loose your fingertips if you aren’t fast enough.

The four-footed one likes peas too.  Provided she isn’t expected to eat them.  Peas are more or less play things.  The name of the game is to roll peas all throughout my house and watch me go crazy trying to find them all.

But I guess she doesn’t mind her veggies and stuff provided she has it her way.

That’s Not A Gingerbread House

Hansel and Gretel left a trail of breadcrumbs to find their way back.  Of course they got a little sidetracked with a tasty looking gingerbread house in the middle of the forest.  And there was the whole witch issue to be dealt with. A witch with a taste for children.  A witch who ended up in an oven.  And the children, well they escaped and lived happily ever after.

If I were to leave behind a trail of breadcrumbs the birds would come along and eat them.  Or the wind would blow the crumbs away.  Or maybe the ants would steal them.  What I’m trying to say is that the crumbs wouldn’t be there for me to follow back.  And with my luck there wouldn’t be a delicious gingerbread house covered with delights like gum drops.  Okay so for the record I’m not really a gingerbread kind of girl.  I know… wrong especially this time of year, but there you have it.

No with my luck the not only would the crumbs be gone, but I’d be starved and presented with a liver house in the middle of the forest.  Because I’m not a liver lover.  And I’d probably be trapped for the rest of eternity or at least ever after in that house.

It’s probably a good thing I don’t go off into the enchanted forest any time.  And I’m always sure to find my way back.  Don’t ask me about how long ever after is because I have no clue.

Tricky Smooth Moves

Have a smoothie bowl they said.  It will make you feel fuller than if you just have a smoothie they assured me.  It’s the nuts and shredded coconut that will help fill you up, they explained.  They lied friends.  They lied while they smiled and told me these things.

The smoothie bowl came with the option of bran cereal added to it, which would fill you up.  Well until it helped empty you out that is. 😉  Apparently eating with a spoon helps make us feel fuller for a longer period of time.  As if that’s all it takes to help make you feel full and chase away the hunger pains.

Sure the spoon, in theory, slows down your eating thus allowing your tummy time to tell the brain at its full.  It is supposed to help you not over eat.  Also when you eat with a spoon (or fork when applicable) you some how trick your brain into thinking you are eating more than you really are.

Now maybe this theory works for you, but my brain doesn’t just assume eating with a spoon means I’m eating more food.  My brain looks at the amount of food to determine how much I’m consuming. And depending upon what I’m eating, I can get surprisingly full very quickly.  Such as with liver.  One bite and I’m full. I cannot eat another bite of it.  If it’s  cake,well heck you’d be surprised how much cake I can eat before I’m full.  It’s not picky eating so much as tricking the mind how it works.