Don't move more, stand more

If you don't have time to move more, stand more.  That's my new motto. 

Cuz I was thinking, you know how people say to park out in the outback of the parking lot, take the stairs, etc.?  Crap.  Total crap.  Check my math.  I don't have a Bodybugg, but the people using them say standing is twice the calories of sitting or sleeping.  So, I drive to the gym and park a 30 second longer walk than normal.  Big whoop.  Let's say 1 calorie per minute sitting on my rear.  2 standing.  4 walking?  So, 30 seconds extra walking vs sitting is 1.5 extra calories going into the gym and 1.5 extra coming out.  Sweet.  I'm thinner already. 

Elevator vs stairs is slightly more impressive, since you burn about 5 extra calories per minute.  Maybe.  How many minutes up are you going?

But, that's all work, walking and climbing stairs.  Standing isn't really work.  It's not going to make you sweat while you work.  You can do a webinar standing up as well as sitting down.  But, going up the stairs is going to have you huffing and puffing on your conference call, leaving the boss man wondering what's up. 

Get a stand up desk, use the kitchen counter, shower instead of taking a bubble bath, pee standing up, etc.  Don't move more, stand more.

Heading back home again

A week and a half away from home.  I'm ready to be back to normal, even though it was a good trip. 

Although my heart was not broken in the past few days, I still hope to come up with something interesting to write.  ...plus, a recipe.

I think someone needs to dump me to get this blog rolling again!  Volunteers?

Our Food Focused Lives

Historically (and prehistorically, I'll assume), we've gathered together to eat. Of course, we used to gather together just to stay alive, but we got over that.

Today's family gatherings are almost always focused around food. Friends meet over drinks or lunch, hit some dinner before the movie and parties are always about the birthday cake or the bowls of chips.

I wonder how much of Thanksgiving was really about the food. It's made out to be some sort of lifesaving food event, but I don't find lifesaving foods to be delicious and covered with mini-marshmallows. MREs are my idea of lifesaving foods.

But, Thanksgiving (or even Turkey Day, as some unfortunately call it) is one thing. What's the excuse for Easter and Christmas? Everyone has to eat, but we lose focus on the event while we focus on the meal (and the meal planning). But, that's not really where I'm heading here.

Why the focus on food? We all have to eat, but why don't we just eat when we're together. Why does it always have to be getting together to EAT?

Over at the JP Fitness forum, Leigh Peele said this the other day.

I for one agree that social mixings should not be only centered on food. One of the quickest ways you can find out how interesting someone is or isn't is to take away their food and their drink to see what is left.

That being said, you can enjoy the actual experiences of good food and drink with the company of the ones you love.

This is something that I've thought about a lot over the years. I love to cook, but I found that the long and complicated meals were overwhelming. By the time I ate, I was exhausted. Plus, I'd only spent time with the one or two people who really wanted to help cook. In the family setting, these are usually the ones you wish would go play with the kids, but don't.

What was a better solution? Pot lucks? Happy Thanksgiving! Enjoy the disjointed, mediocre meal made under questionable hygienic conditions then transported for hours on the floorboards of a car.

The last few years, the meals were simpler. The key was to take the holiday meals in a direction that was almost completely removed from the traditional. For me, Mexican or southwestern cooking was the key to my kitchen freedom. Beans (the best beans ever) and mole were made the day before. In a nod to tradition, I'd roast a turkey, make some green beans, sweet potatoes and squash, and no one was the wiser. You can't make your traditional meal simpler, no one will stand for it, and they'll wonder why there are no marshmallows in the yams and their aren't two kinds of stuffing, rolls, gravy, cranberry jelly and cranberry sauce. You get the idea. [/digression]

Long term, I think we can do ourselves some real good by taking the focus off of food for our gatherings. Have good food, but keep it focused on the people and the event. Did the people come to the house for Christmas because your prime rib was so good? It was overcooked and you used jarred horseradish, so no. They love you, despite the cooking. So put the focus back where it belongs.

Ok. People still like food. Let's have some ideas for parties and gatherings where the food can be good, but doesn't need to be the focus.

Pot lucks. I know I made fun. But, give it a theme and put out some rules. The people driving in bring the fruit salad, the raw veggies, the cookies, or a cooler of beer (on ice). Leave the hot foods to the people next door and down the street. It's your party. People don't know what to bring anyway. Tell them what they're bringing.

Fondue, hot pot, weenie roast, etc. It's not about the food, it's about making your own food. Simple food. Easy. People talk and laugh.

Chili. That's pretty much it. A big pot of chili and bowls of garnishes. Soup or stew if you're so inclined. Easy. Delicious.

Stone Soup. Hopefully, you know the story. Just in case...

"The Stone Soup Story".

There was a great famine. People were starving and jealously hoarded whatever food they could find, hiding it even from their friends and neighbours. One day a wandering minstrel happened to pass through the village and asked if he could stay for the night.

"There's nothing to eat here," he was told by the villagers. "You better keep moving."

"Oh, I have everything I need," he said. In fact I was thinking of making some stone soup to share with all of you." As the villagers looked on quizzically, he pulled an enormous cooking pot from his wagon, filled it with water, and built a fire underneath it. Then, with great ceremony, he drew and ordinary looking stone from a velvet bag and dropped it into the water.

By now, hearing the rumour of food, most of the villagers had come to the square or watched from their windows. As the stranger licked his lips in anticipation, hunger began to overcome the villagers' initial scepticism.

"Mmm," the minstrel said to himself loudly enough for the villagers to hear. "I do like tasty stone soup. Of course stone soup with cabbage, now that's hard to beat."

Soon a villager approached cautiously, holding a cabbage he'd retrieved from its hiding place, and added it to the pot. "Wonderful!" cried the minstrel. "You know I once had stone soup with cabbage and a bit of salt beef as well, and it was fit for a king."

The village butcher managed to find some salt beef, and so it went, through potatoes, carrots, onions, mushrooms and so on, until there was indeed a delicious meal for all. And from that time on, long after the famine was ended, they reminisced about the finest soup they'd ever had.

One year when I was 21 or 22, we all hated our parents and couldn't stomach another family holiday. We were all "poor" and I was the only one who knew how to cook. I told people to bring stuff. Raw ingredients. Anything. Nothing prepared and nothing in a box or package. We all pitched in and made a huge meal that was really, really good. Chicken and sausage stew, roasted veggies, salad, and fruit. No one missed the turkey and stuffing one bit.

Why is my blog so boring? An epic ramble...

Let's start with the fact that I'm hardly putting anything out here. Then, when I do, it's recipes. That's cool. I love to cook, and I write it all down anyway. Might as well post the good ones. But do people really read my blog for the recipes? I doubt it. At best, the recipes are a tide-you-over thing. Correct me if I'm wrong.

Waaaaay back when, when this spot wasn't boring, I was lonely. I put out a lot of little stories about my past love life and the love lives that were hit and miss. Mostly miss, with high points that stick with me to this day. Sprinkled around those stories were other parts of my life; my love of chick flicks, the whole "I'm shy" thing, food, the kids, religion, vacations, etc. Once things got rolling, the comments were pretty evenly doled out, but I'm pretty sure I know what people really liked to read about. To be honest, that's what I love to write about.

If you're not familiar with Blogger (which is the whole "web thing" that creates, manages, and displays the blog site you're reading right now), it's got a screen that displays and manages all your draft blog posts, so you can work on them as you see fit, then publish when ready. I've got 41 draft blog posts. Many are recipes that need formatting, there are a few fitness or nutrition related blogs that will probably never see the light of day, and then there are lots of little interesting blog starts that immediately stopped, probably never to be finished. They are too personal and too new. I don't want to hurt anybody and I don't want to have girls that I date signing release forms, either...

I'm going to have to come to terms with things and turn this blog around. I can write non-boring stuff! I promise. I really want to write again, and not just about cooking.

Forgive the weird phrasing of this next statement, but I'm about to say that I have passion. That's something that someone says about you, you don't usually say it about yourself. But, I'm alone here, with no one to egg on to say it for me.

I have passion. I have passion to put things down in writing. I feel passionate about many things; love, food, cooking, romance, chick flicks, sex, honor, scents, women, etc. There are huge overlaps here. There are ancillary topics that I could include, but by and large, they all come back to that short list. The list could be far shorter if you distill it waaaay down. Women. As the phrase goes, "All roads lead to Rome" (except for the ones that never got finished because some guy stopped to say hi to a woman). Women.

Does it all come down to that? No. But, mostly. For most guys. We all have other interests, of course. We're allowed. Science fiction's not going to attract a lot of chicks, but I read it and watch it. Some guys like the Stooges. There's math. Dungeons & Dragons. Should I continue?

But, the reality of things is that most guys live for women (or a woman (singular) if he's civilized). They are the driving force, subconsciously or consciously of a man's actions.

I'm not sure where I'm going with this... It's taking it's own path.

On Sunday, I met this woman at a Starbucks. She was from the other side of the country and leaving that very afternoon. We talked for over four hours, including a little walk next door for lunch (a girl's gotta eat) before she had to leave. Instant and intense connection. It was like Before Sunrise, but without the coolness of Paris. Instead of everyone around us in Paris seemingly ceasing to exist, leaving us alone with each other, we had the people at Pasta Bravo and Starbucks.

I like to like someone, and to be a huge pussy about it, I like the feeling that I've met someone wonderful. Someone who could be the perfect girl for me (as if there could be just one). Perfect girls are rare, but the ones I can't have are often really perfect. So perfect. I'm sure time would change that, but first date perfect and early relationship perfect is something to always remember and cherish.

When Sunday Girl and I said goodbye, we just basically said goodbye. We'd talked a lot and probably avoided all sorts of things that were irrelevant to our four hour relationship. Before she left, she told me that I was quietly and mysteriously confident, and the way I talked to my friends made her want to know me.

This was sort of a shocker to me, but in the last few months, I have been called similar things before. I've never felt confident before, but I suppose I'm there. This is pretty much the first time in my life. A far cry from how shy and self-conscious I've felt all my life.

I'm pretty much done. I want to be able to ramble again. Spill my guts. Tell my stories. I'm not sure what drove me over the edge to write this. There's been true heartache, lust, and love that I could write about before Sunday. In fact, Sunday didn't have any of those things. Maybe that's the key. I saw and felt potential, but we didn't hurt. There was melancholy that night and the next day, but everything is good. It will always be a fond memory. The word "fond" doesn't seem very intense. So much for the passion I'm claiming.

Plum Problems

First, happy Independence Day, everyone!

Second, I just had the best plum, ever.  The bin at the store said "black plums."  I'd pretty much given up on plums a few years ago.  I have fond memories of picking warm and juicy plums from my own plum tree when I was a little kid.  We lived in Westminister, California and had the best plum tree ever.  I'm not just saying that out of nostalgia. Those plums were amazing.  Almost black on the outside and deep, deep reddish-purple on the inside.

Over the years, I've randomly found that variety of plum, but it's inconsistent.  They are usually labeled "plums," and look just like the plums that have the yellow stuff inside.  I do not like those plums.  Not that they are bad, just not worth eating. 

My son loves plums, so I buy them for him.  Last week, I bought five black plums, he ate four, I watched him eating #4, it was the plum from my kidhood.  Damn.  I grabbed the last plum and took a bite.  Yellow.  Damn.

I immediately went to the store and bought five plums.  I ate one in the car (yellow...) and saved the rest.  All had yellow insides.  Fucking plums.  It was the grocery store, so they had little stickers.  All the plums had the same label.  Black Plum 4040 or Plum 4040.  The plums from before had the exact same labels.  Nice system.

Yesterday, I bought five more.  I made sure to get a variety of shapes and sizes from the bin.  I'm super analyzing them as I eat them. I feel like Kramer at the fruit market.  #1 was yellow.  My son ate #2, also yello.  #3 was dark, dark purple. It was mine and it was the one.  It was so juicy and sweet.  The kind of good that makes you cringe that the napkin is absorbing some of the juce!

There are two more.  I think they are yellow.  It's better to be surprised...

Grilled Mango with Ice Cream

This is barely a recipe.  It seems so basic, but when I made it, everyone was amazed, so here it is.  A good summer dessert.

You can use a grill pan or the outdoor kind.  Your choice.

Grilled Mango with Vanilla Ice Cream

4 servings

2 ripe mangos
4 scoops vanilla ice cream
1 tbsp butter

If you've never cut a mango before, realize that a mango has a very large, flat seed inside.  You can't just cut it in half.  If you look closely, you'll see the mango has is not round, but slightly flattened on two sides.  These sides are parallel to the seed.

You'll need a sharp knife. Lay the mango on a cutting board so that you can cut down along where you imagine the seed is.  You will cut all the way through, on either side of the seed, basically cutting off the two "cheeks" of each mango.  Set the seed and inner section of mango aside for later.  It's too valuable to waste! Repeat with mango #2.

Take one mango cheek and carefully cut a cross-hatch pattern through the mango fruit, right down to the inside of the skin. Careful not to cut through the skin. You want the skin to stay whole to hold your mango together, since the mango flesh will be just a bunch of squares or diamonds at this point. Repeat with the other three mango cheeks.

Butter the cut side of each mango, then place them, butter side down, on a hot grill or grill pan.  Resist the urge to turn them, but after a few minutes, gently lift them to see if they are getting some good grill marks.

You don't have to actually cook the mango, the grilling caramelizes them a bit, and adds some serious flavor.  When they have some good grill marks and look pretty hot on the cut side, remove them to a plate or bowl.

At this point, you have a choice.  You can turn each mango cheek inside out, and cut off the cubes of fruit, then top the scoop of ice cream with the caramelized mango OR leave them whole and lay them in a bowl or dessert plate next to the scoop of ice cream.  The latter way looks pretty, but it makes for some work for your guests, as they scoop the cubes from the mango and each with the ice cream.  That's my vote, but they're your guests...

Oh, what to do with the mango covered seeds?  I gently trim the strip of skin off with a paring knife and suck and chew them down to the seed, but in case you want something more dignified, you can also toss it in a big pitcher of ice tea or even a pitcher of water -- very refreshing.  Or put it in a mason jar, fill 'er up with vodka, put in the fridge for a week, then invite some chick over for a girly drink.  Like a mango mojito?  Maybe...

Circus Tricks & Little Fitness Wonders

I lead a little fitness and nutrition group every Wednesday morning.  It's been an eye opener for them, but also for me.  For most people reading this, you know stuff about fitness and nutrition.  You've read a book or two, participated in a fitness forum, or you're my friend and had to listen to me ramble about stuff.  Because you know stuff, you don't know that others don't know the basics.  It's a good lesson for me to keep in mind.

Little good things like fiber, fish oil, and protein are surprises to them.  They've never heard of the problems with soybean oil, corn oil, omega-6s, and processed foods, either.  The biggies are news to them and I was so happy to be the one to expose them to this stuff.

We're on week three, and today we delved into some exercises to combat the poor posture and habits that most of us have because of PCs, driving, sitting, television, etc.  After my speech and demonstration on how to "be tall" -- thanks Bill Hartman -- we did some minor stretching of the wrists, hands, neck, and torso. 

Toward the end, one guy asked about some serious stretching and lamented that he wished he could touch his toes.  I asked him to show me.  He was four inches from touching.

"Let's see the rest of you try."  They all tried.  No one was any better or worse.  None of them could touch their toes.

"You guys want to touch your toes?  Five minutes and you'll all do it." 

They seemed skeptical. "How much stretching?"

"No stretching," I told them.

We all lined up, our toes on a thick rug, so our heels were below the level of our toes.   I had them "be tall" AND reach high for the ceiling, sweep from the waist, staying tall and long as they went, reaching for the toes.  The best of them was two inches away. 

Repeat the drill.  One inch from the toes was the best.

We moved off the rug and to our feet flat again and tried once more.  Success for one, but the other two had stalled out.  Number one was happy, but the other two gave me the "see, I told you so" look.

I grabbed a plastic water pitcher and told one of the doubters to squeeze it between his quads and try once more.  He thought I was crazy, but did it.  He touched his toes on the first try.  While he was still amazed, I handed the pitcher to the last guy.  It took him two attempts, but he touched his toes, too.  Three for three.

I took a few minutes to explain the issues that each could work on, based on what method helped each one, and I firmly believe they wanted to rush home, right then, to show their wives their new skillz!  Yay for them!  I remember my first time? (Thanks Bill Hartman!  Yes, Bill again!)

I know it's just a trick, and they might have left thinking I'm some biomechanical genius or something.  I'll take it. 

Hopefully, my circus trick and my explanations made them a bit more confident that I know what I'm doing.  I wonder how much  of the training battle is inspiration of the client.  A big part, I think.

What it all comes down to