What you can eat at... Starbucks

As work gets crazy, I sometimes camp out at a local spot.  In a pinch, I gotta eat what they got to sell.  With dangerous menus, what's the health conscious person to scarf down?

Today, I'm at Starbucks.  Let's take a look at some of the choices...

First, I'm not one to tell you not to have that scone.  If you love it, can fit 450 calories worth of Cranberry Orange Scone into your diet (and be satisfied an hour later), more power to you.  Most people can work a treat in there, somewhere.  But, I have to have the scone AND food.  So that's not going to work for me.

Here are my options and recommendations:




Vivanno Nourishing Blends

Chocolate and banana or orange, mango, and banana shakes.  These are pretty good.  Not too shabby, nutrition-wise, either.

I have a friend behind the counter, so I got the inside scoop and tour, and was able to read all the labels of all the ingredients in these things.  Ingredients include bittersweet cocoa powder, 2% milk, whey protein w/fiber, real banana, real orange mango juice (Naked Juice), and option macha powder or espresso, depending on the flavor your choose.

To me, the only questionable ingredients are the juice and the macha powder.  Juice won't kill you, and I'll take Naked Juice's juice over most.  I just love mango.  A weakness on my part.

If you think you're getting the green tea benefits of the macha powder, don't.  It adds 40 calories of sugar and who knows how much green tea.  Not much, I'm thinking.  If it makes it taste good, figure in the calories and go for it.

Take a look at the blends and see for yourself.  I think the chocolate ones are a better nutritional deal, with 20-21g of protein, but the mango ones are sure tasty, even with merely 16g of P.

Banana Chocolate
270 calories, 5g Fat, 44g Carb, 6g Fiber, 21g Protein

Banana Chocolate w/espresso
260 calories, 4.5g Fat, 42g Carb, 5g Fiber, 20g Protein

Orange Mango Banana 
250 calories, 2g Fat, 47g Carb, 6g Fiber, 16g Protein

Orange Mango Banana w/Macha 
290 calories, 2g Fat, 57g Carb, 6g Fiber, 16g Protein

Perfect Oatmeal

It's oatmeal.  Just oatmeal.  It's fine.  You can get toppings.

Perfect Oatmeal
140 calories, 2.5 Fat, 25g Carb, 4g Fiber, 5g Protein

Nut Medley
100 calories, 9g Fat, 2g Carb, 1g Fiber, 2g Protein

Fruit Medley
100 calories, 0g Fat, 24g Carb, 2g Fiber, 1g Protein

Brown Sugar*
50 calories, 0g Fat, 13g Carb, 0g Fiber, 0g Protein

* fyi, brown sugar is just as healthy as white sugar, or HFCS.  It's still.  just. sugar.

Of course, you can also get Splenda, milk, half and half, etc. at the little bar area.  The cinnamon and chocolate shaker bottles have sugar in them, too.  So beware of the shakes your shake onto your oatmeal.

This oatmeal not a meal.  Not for me, anyway.  You need to add some protein.  They suggest a sugary protein enhanced latte, but if you're willing, you can ask them to dump in some whey from the Vivannos (it's extra).  You might get a blank stare or a "no."  It's a drink option for a food item, so they panic.  Which button do you press?  Crap!  "Uh, no sir. We don't have protein."  Just be patient and consider using the word "venti" to comfort them...  Talk them down and work through the problem together.


Reduced-Fat Turkey Bacon, Cholesterol-Free Egg, Reduced-Fat White Cheddar Breakfast Sandwich

The name is a mouthful, huh?  It's like an Egg McMuffin, but sort of healthier?  I'm not so sure, since an Egg McMuffin is right up there with the nutritional content.  But, were not at McDonald's, we're at Starbucks.

Reduced-Fat Turkey Bacon, Cholesterol-Free Egg, Reduced-Fat White Cheddar Breakfast Sandwich
350 calories, 11 Fat, 41g Carb, 3g Fiber, 20g Protein

I'm not really about reduced fat, but I don't like extra fat and I don't like fat calories when they aren't necessary.  This sandwich doesn't taste like it's reduced fat, so it's just good.  Oh, the english muffin only looks whole wheat, btw.  It's not.  Eat it anyway.


Spinach, Roasted Tomato, Feta & Egg Wrap


I really like these.  But, by the afternoon, they tend to be gone.

Yikes!  It's got a lot of freakin' ingredients, but most aren't that bad.

LAHVASH WRAP (WATER, FINE WHOLE WHEAT FLOUR, NATURAL FIBER FLATBREAD BASE [WHEAT GLUTEN CORN STARCH, OAT FIBER, ISOLATED SOY PROTEIN, SOY FLOUR, SOY OIL, SALT, SESAME FLOUR, CALCIUM SULFATE, DEXTROSE, WHOLE WHEAT FLOUR, MONOGLYCERIDES, FUMARIC ACID], WHEAT FLOUR, CANOLA OIL, HONEY, SUGAR, SALT, YEAST, CALCIUM PROPIONATE, L-CYSTEINE [DOUGH CONDITIONER]), SCRAMBLED EGG INSERTS (WHOLE EGGS, WATER, WHOLE MILK POWDER, SOYBEAN OIL, MODIFIED CORN STARCH, SALT, BUTTER FLAVOR [SOYBEAN OIL, BUTTER (CREAM), LIPOLYZED BUTTER FAT, NATURAL AND ARTIFICIAL FLAVORS], XANTHAN GUM, CITRIC ACID), SPINACH, FETA (CULTURED PASTEURIZED MILK, SALT, ENZYMES, POTATO STARCH ADDED TO PREVENT CAKING), SUNDRIED TOMATO, GARLIC AND SPICE SPREAD (WATER, PASTEURIZED MILK AND CREAM, TOMATO PASTE, WHEY PROTEIN CONCENTRATE, DEHYDRATED GARLIC, MODIFIED FOOD STARCH, SALT, SUN-DRIED TOMATOES (TOMATOES, SULFUR DIOXIDE [PRESERVATIVE]), SUGAR, CANOLA AND OLIVE OIL, SPICES, CHEESE CULTURE, CREAM, STABILIZERS (CAROB BEAN AND/OR XANTHAN GUM AND/OR GUAR GUMS), LACTIC ACID, POTASSIUM SORBATE (PRESERVATIVE), CRUSHED GARLIC, CITRIC ACID, CORN SYRUP SOLIDS, MALTODEXTRIN,  NATURAL FLAVORS, SODIUM CITRATE, SODIUM PHOSPHATE, ENZYMES), ROASTED TOMATOES (TOMATOES, CANOLA OIL, GARLIC, OREGANO, SALT).

IMO, the whole "preservative" thing is overblown, anyway.  "No preservatives" is for eating at home!  Not when you're fainting from hunger and need to knock out a proposal and head to the customer!

Spinach, Roasted Tomato, Feta and Egg Wrap, 
240 calories, 10 Fat, 29g Carb, 7g Fiber, 13g Protein

See look what Starbucks has to offer!  Just look past the bakery case and the sugary, fatty drinks, and eat something fairly healthy.

Butter Side Up

Yesterday was a hard day.  It was long and....  well, long.  Today, I'm up early for a 5am PST "net meeting" that's hosted on the East coast at their 8am, then I've got another full (read long) day.  So, I'm making some cinnamon toast.  I love me some cinnamon toast. 

There are only two slices of Ezekiel Bread's Cinnamon Raisin Bread left in the bag!  I pop them in the toaster.  I toss the bag on top of my super full trash can and then watch as the empty bag slowly slides onto the floor.  Of course...

I grab the tub of margarine from the fridge.  Toast pops, smear with margarine, put them on the paper towel and head to the counter to scarf. 

Of course, one slice decides to take a dive...  It slides right off the paper towel, and there's nothing I can do to stop it, since I've got a full cup of joe in hand #2...  crap.

Luckily, my laziness has paid off.  The slice lands right on the bread bag (so no five second rule required)!  And, as you could probably guess from the title, it's butter side up!  That never happens!  The physics (the grease must make the butter side aerodynamic?) and my typical luck make this a sure impossibility. 

Today will be a good day for me.  Hopefully for you, too.

In honor of our collective good day, go have some cinnamon toast.  Here's my favorite recipe...

Cinnamon Raisin Toast

2 slices Ezekiel Bread's Cinnamon Raisin Bread
2 tsp Canola Harvest Margarine

Nutrition: Calories 226, Fat 10g, Carbs 30g, Fiber 6g, Protein 8g


Here's my alternate recipe.  Use your own ingredients to find the calories, etc.

Cinnamon Toast

2 slices of high fiber, low cal, whole grain bread (Weight Watchers, Oroweat Light, "normal" Ezekiel Bread, etc.)
2 tsp butter or healthy margarine (e.g., no Smart Balance* or anything else with soybeen or vegetable oil on the label)
cinnamon
Splenda

* Read my rant on Smart Balance, here.

Caprese Omelet

It seems a bit strange for breakfast, but why do we have these weird rules about what foods are for what meals?  I've moved on from those rules, years ago.

I'll post this two ways.  The way I made it, and the way you could make it if you actually planned this.  Check them both out, then just wing it.  What could go wrong?

Caprese Omelet

3 large eggs
1 tbsp water
salt
cooking spray
1 package of string cheese
2 oz of cherry or grape tomatos
1/2 ice cube of thawed (e.g., gently nuked?) pesto*
salt
fresh ground pepper
3 tbsp balsamic vinegar


Roughly chop the tomatoes, put them in a bowl, and salt and pepper them to taste.  Slice the cheese into rounds and stir into the tomatoes.  Add the thawed pesto and stir well.  Salt and pepper to taste.

Heat your omelet pan over medium high heat.  Beat the eggs and water together in a bowl.  Salt to "taste."  Don't actually taste it.  Yuck.  Spritz the pan with the cooking spray, and pour in the egg mixture.  Swirl the eggs around the pan.  After they set up on the bottom a bit, lift the edges, and tilt the pan to allow the egg to run under the bottom.  Reduce heat and allow the eggs to gently set up.  When they are almost solid on the surface add the tomato mixture to half of the omelet.  Fold the empty half over the tomatoes.

If the omelet looks fully cooked at this point, plate it.  If it needs more time, you can gently turn the omelet once or twice so the inside cooks, but the outside doesn't overcook.  Um, gently turn it so the fold is always down on the pan, don't flip it or things will get ugly...

Once it's plated, increase the heat of the pan again.  Add the vinegar to the empty pan and reduce the vinegar to a slightly thick glaze.  Drizzle over the top of the omelet.  Eat.


The first version was leftovers.  This version is more standard, since a caprese salad is typically layered, not chopped.

Caprese Omelet, v2

3 large eggs
1 tbsp water
salt
cooking spray
1 oz of mozzarella cheese
2 oz of roma tomatoes
2 leaves of basil
salt
fresh ground pepper
3 tbsp balsamic vinegar


Slice the tomatoes into thin slices.  Slice the cheese into thin slices.  Chop the basil.

Heat your omelet pan over medium high heat.  Beat the eggs and water together in a bowl.  Salt to "taste."  Don't actually taste it.  Yuck.  Spritz the pan with the cooking spray, and pour in the egg mixture.  Swirl the eggs around the pan.  After they set up on the bottom a bit, lift the edges, and tilt the pan to allow the egg to run under the bottom.  Reduce heat and allow the eggs to gently set up.

When they are almost solid on the surface add the tomato tomato slices across half of the omelet.  Salt and pepper to taste.  Sprinkle with chopped basil.  Add the sliced cheese over the tomatoes.  Fold the empty half of the omelet over the tomatoes.

If the omelet looks fully cooked at this point, plate it.  If it needs more time, you can gently turn the omelet once or twice so the inside cooks, but the outside doesn't overcook.  Again, gently turn it so the fold is always down on the pan, don't flip it or things get ugly fast.

Once it's plated, increase the heat of the pan again.  Add the vinegar to the empty pan and reduce the vinegar to a slightly thick glaze.  Drizzle over the top of the omelet.  Eat.


* Pesto note.  I can't believe I haven't posted a simple pesto recipe, I make it all the time.  Here's the one from JP's site, though.  Basil Pesto with Almonds.  I make a ton and put it in icecube trays (2-4 tbsp per cube), freeze it into cubes, and keep them in a ziplock bag.

Face Your Manga

I'm not really hip on the manga thing, but if you are, go make yourself.  Or remake yourself, if that's needed.

faceyourmanga.com

You know what would be good?

A fried bologna sandwich.  The Oscar Mayer stuff.  Nothing fancy.  The bologna should be cut through the skin so they fry into Xs.  That way they don't curl up on you.  Mayo and white bread is essential.

Put Down the Bad Donut!

I ate an old fashioned donut today.  It was calling to me for an hour.  I calculated the calories and figured I'd fit it in.  The problem is that it was not very good and I ate it anyway.

I have this problem a lot.  It's not that the donut was bad, it just wasn't glazed.  Therefore, it just wasn't worth 200+ calories of my mere 1801 calories allowed today.  Why didn't I toss it?  Because it was sort of good.

I didn't even pay for the thing, so it's not the "wasting money" thing.  Besides, I'm a firm believer in leaving Disneyland if you're not having fun, having got your money's worth or not.  Staying and playing in misery doesn't make the spent money return, so cut your losses.

Food is another story.  Lack of willpower is the deal.  But, how to overcome this lack?  Ideas?  Success stories?  

Oh...  Why do plain old fashioned donuts even exist.  It's glazed or nothing, baby!

Mediterranean Sliders

Sliders have been popular lately.  Here's the gyro twist on them.

A healthy eating note, since "how are sliders supposed to be healthy?"  There's nothing in these sliders that's unhealthy. If you eat these and get fat (or stay fat), then you're eating too many of them OR eating them and something else that's pushing you over your limit.  That's the general problem in the world, too much food.  So, my suggestion is to have a salad, not fries, go light on the dressing and keep your calories under control.  Enjoy the sliders and make them work with you, not against you.

Even my kids will eat these, as long as they don't have to eat the tzatziki.  They are just burgers to them.

Oh, here's my tip on pressing burger patties, taken from years of my burger pressing experience at Farrell's Ice Cream Parlour and Restaurant.  First, press them into something, don't pat them into a patty between your hands.  You can't get them thin and firm enough like that.  Find and save some jar lids of various sizes.  The perfect burger patty typically starts off bigger than the bun it's going to be served on.  The lid from a two lb tub of protein powder might make a good lid to press a 1/4 lbs burger.  A mayo or large mouthed pasta sauce jar lid might work perfectly for these sliders.  I have a collection of sizes.

Once you have the lid, you need a plastic bag, piece of wax paper, foil, or plastic wrap for a liner.  Lay the liner on the empty lid, set the ball on the liner, then press.  Use the liner to remove the perfect patty.


Mediterranean Sliders

Serves 4 (8 sliders)

tzatziki (recipe below, go and make it now)
8 rolls (whole grain, whole wheat rolls.  parker house rolls, for instance)
8 slices of tomato
½ lbs lean ground beef
½ lbs lean ground lamb
1 clove garlic, minced or pressed
2 tbsp paprika
1 tbsp ground cumin
1 tsp dried oregano, rubbed between palms
1 tsp salt
fresh ground pepper
thinly sliced onion (optional)

Mix all ingredients from beef to ground pepper together in a large bowl.  Roll meat into 8 balls, then press them into thin patties. Cook the patties over medium high heat (or grill them) until done.

While the patties are cooking, warm the buns, if you like.  Spread each bun with some tzatziki, top with a patty, tomato, and onion (if desired).


Tzatziki
½ cucumber, shredded or finely chopped
1-5 cloves minced or pressed garlic (optional)
1 cup Greek yogurt
½ tbsp extra virgin olive oil
1½ tsp lemon juice
salt to taste

Sprinkle shredded or chopped cucumber liberally with salt and stir.  Put cucumber in a colander to drain for 10 minutes.  After 10 minutes, squeeze out excess water with your hands.

Stir yogurt, olive oil, and lemon juice together so that it's well combined.  Stir in cucumber and mix well.  Salt to taste.

Serendipity: What a Stupid Movie

Serendipity. Why do I keep watching it?

It reminds me of that joke about the priest...

God Will Save Me

A big storm approaches. The weatherman urges everyone to get out of town. The priest says, "I won't worry, God will save me".
The morning of the storm, the police go through the neighborhood with a sound truck telling everyone to evacuate. The priest says "I won't worry, God will save me".
The storm drains back up and there is an inch of water standing in the street. A fire truck comes by to pick up the priest. He tells them "Don't worry, God will save me."
The water rises another foot. A National Guard truck comes by to rescue the priest. He tells them "Don't worry, God will save me."
The water rises some more. The priest is forced up to his roof. A boat comes by to rescue the priest. He tells them "Don't worry, God will save me."
The water rises higher. The priest is forced up to the very top of his roof. A helicopter comes to rescue the priest. He shouts up at them "Don't worry, God will save me."
The water rises above his house, and the priest drowns.
When he gets up to heaven he says to God "I've been your faithful servant ever since I was born! Why didn't you save me?"
God replies "First I sent you a fire truck, then the national guard, then a boat, and then a helicopter. What more do you want from me!!??" 

Back to the movie...  If fate brings two people together, cool. If two people deliberately temp fate, then they are stupid and they are destined to be miserable.

Don't rely on a used bookstore or Craig's List.  Tip:  Take it from these two and at the very least, agree to meet somewhere specific in a certain date.

Despite that huge flaw in the movie, I watched it.  Kate Beckinsale.

Pretty Girl Question #147

If a girl's got a tag sticking out, is she still pretty?

Maybe I should change the title of these to "Petty Girl Question." As in "I'm shallow and petty and here's my question."

One more song. Fat Old Sun

Beautiful day out here in So Cal. I love this song. The video does nothing but change color, so hit play, minimize, and go about your browsing. Or, scroll down and read the flight attendant/black velvet ribbon story, below.

If it's a beautiful day where you are, log off and get outside.



I'm sometimes torn on which youtube version to post. This one is not quite interesting enough to watch. Who wants to watch guys frolic? Not me. Why not have girls playing around? That's just me, but even a gay friend once told me that even for himself, women were good to look at because they were "artistically complete," and that guys are just good to lust after. I think he's half right--girls are good to look at.

I don't know how girls feel, though. A big part of me thinks that even girls would rather watch girls playing around in wheat fields. Am I wrong?



Last one. Same song. Alternate version. I wish the quality was better, but it's all we've got.

I love alternate versions. Not live versions so much, but alternate studio versions, really put together acoustic versions of an electric songs, or the occasional live one that really nails it.

This one comes from some BBC archive. They've got everything that's cool, huh?



At this point, I stop. If you love this song by now, checkout youtube for some other live sets. There's even a David Gilmour live version from recently. It's a great version, and it fits really well with his latest solo work, which is a return to the mellow and more uplifting roots of early Pink Floyd, sans psychodelic drugs.

The Black Velvet Ribbon

I never speak to people on the plane.  I'm always between some guy who smells like feet and that lady who wants to talk about Stampin' Up! or Creative Memories.  But, this last time, I got Mr. Rock Star and a group of 30 year old moms on their first trip away since having kids.  Thank God they were all fun.

I noticed our flight attendant was wearing a thin black velvet ribbon around her neck.  She was tall and thin, with a graceful neck.  The ribbon stood out.

I chuckled without being able to help it.  Rock Star wanted to know what was so funny.  I pointed out the ribbon, and reminded him of a "horror story" from my youth.  He laughed, too.  30 Year Old Mom wanted to know what was up.  I told her, too.  She said I was mean.  But, she told her friends.  They all laughed and the peer pressure turned her to my side.  Excellent.

The flight attendant was headed our way.

"Fasten your seatbelts," she told us (well, me), "we can't pull away from the gate until everyone is ready."

Scolded, we settled into our seats and prepared for takeoff.  A few giggles continued from my new friends as our flight attendant continued back up the aisle.  I had to raise my voice a bit to make myself heard over the roar of the jet engines, but I continued to relate the story to the people around me...

She was beautiful in a strange, mysterious way. Her hair and her deep bottomless eyes were as black as the velvet ribbon around her neck. He planned to ask her for a cup of coffee after the "fasten seat belt" sign was once again turned off.  At 10,000 feet, the pilot allowed us to move around the cabin, which meant "beverage service" would soon begin... 

He watched her walked towards him up the long aisle. She was dressed in a white uniform blouse, black pants, and pushed a white cart of complementary snacks. Even her face was ivory white. But below it, around the ivory neck, was the black velvet ribbon. He remembered staring at that ribbon as he boarded the plane, struggling to look backward as he was ushered through the front of the plane, on his way to poor man's first class: the exit row aisle seat.

He was not the only one who's eyes were drawn to the black velvet ribbon.  He remembered the curious and shocked looks on the faces of the other passengers.  But then his eyes met hers, and he was drowning in their bottomless darkness.

He didn't think of the velvet ribbon during the rest of his flight. She provided wonderful service, and if people thought she was a bit strange, they kept that to themselves.  During the flight, she took several opportunities to chat; during one such chat, he learned that she had an overnight stay in my destination.  They agreed to meet for dinner, later that night.

That night, when she arrived, she was as mysteriously beautiful as before, elegantly dressed in deep blue and black, but with the ribbon still there, still circling her lovely neck.

"You look stunning, So different out of uniform.  I recognized you by that beautiful ribbon.  It's a good thing you didn't take it off.  Or, maybe you never take it off?" he asked, hoping his question was a needless one.

"You'll be sorry if I do," she answered coyly and with a slight smirk, "so I won't."

Her answer intrigued him, but he did not question her further. It was the first date, there was plenty of time for her to change her ways

Their life together fell into a pleasant pattern. They were happy, as most new couples are. He found her to be a perfect girlfriend... well, nearly perfect. Although she had a great number of outfits and wore a different one whenever was in town, she never changed the black velvet ribbon. This ribbon was her trademark.  But eventually it became the test of their relationship. When he looked at her, his eyes would always fall to her neck. When he kissed her, he could feel the ribbon tightening around his own throat.

"Won't you please take that ribbon from around your neck?" he asked her time and time again.

"You'll be sorry if I do, so I won't." This was always her answer. At first it teased him. Then it began to grate on his nerves. Now it was beginning to infuriate him.

"You'll be sorry if I do."

"You'll be sorry if I do."

One day he tried to pull the ribbon off after she had repeated her answer, like a mechanical doll. It wouldn't come loose from her neck. He realized then, for the first time, that the ribbon had no beginning and no end. It circled her neck like a band of steel. He had drawn back from her in disgust that day. Things weren't the same with them after that.  When he drove her to the airport, they rode in silence.  He sat at the white curb, staring silently into space, until airport security ushered him along.

Her first morning back, at the breakfast table, the black ribbon seemed to mock him as he drank his suddenly bitter coffee. In the afternoon, outside, the ribbon made a funeral out of the sunlight. But it was at night when it bothered him the most. He knew he could live with it no longer.

"Either take that ribbon off, or I will," he said one night to his girlfriend of only four weeks.

"You'll be sorry if I do, so I won't." She smiled at him, and then fell off to sleep.

But he did not sleep. He lay there, staring at the hated ribbon. He had meant what he said. If she would not take off the ribbon, he would.

As she lay sleeping and unsuspecting, he crept out of bed and over to the dresser drawer. He had seen a pair of scissors in there. It was small enough, he knew, to slip between the velvet ribbon and her soft neck. Gripping the scissors in his trembling hands, he walked softly back to the bed. He came up to where she lay and stood over her. Her head was thrown back on the pillow, and her throat with the black velvet ribbon around it rose ever so slightly with her breathing.

He bent down, and with one swift movement, he forced the thin blade of the scissors under the ribbon. Then with a quick, triumphant snip, he severed the ribbon that had come between them.

The black velvet ribbon fell away from her neck....her head rolled off the bed and landed on the floor with a thump. She was muttering, "You'll be sorry, you'll be sorry......."

Green is the Colour

Tune out the weird, digitized video and enjoy one of the more beautiful Pink Floyd songs.

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