5 posts tagged “food”
“What are you giving up for Lent?” has become about as meaningful as “What are your New Year’s Resolutions?” I have to be honest: I haven’t given anything up for Lent since I was a kid. I’m considering it, this year. What prompted this? I was repenting my gluttony (seriously - I’ve lost 43 lbs. and gained back 30 - that’s disgusting) and renewing my commitment to good nutrition and fitness (again) and looking for a SparkTeam that might help me figure out why I’d sabotaged myself after such significant success, when I ran across one called 40 Days and 40 Nights (for Lent). Not a member, yet?
What caught my eye was the mention of bread, and how giving it up had once led the team leader to lose a good chunk of weight.
And thinking back on when I first started losing weight, bread was one of the things I cut out cold turkey. I like bread. I especially like bread with butter on it. One piece leads to two. Two leads to a sandwich. With cheese. But I can eliminate bread and not feel too deprived; if I don’t taste it - don’t think about it - I can live without it just fine. I don’t feel particularly “deprived.” I think of it with longing; I’m tempted. But…life goes on. Maybe it would be good to give up bread again.
I remember the first time I “cheated” on the diet (I hate calling it a “diet” because it was really just eating healthy, making better choices, limiting portions) - I think it involved having a piece of pizza. And what is pizza? Yummy stuff - on bread. So pizza’s got to go, too. And fried foods. Popeyes. Because… well, because. Greasy food’s bad for ya.
Now, I realize that the giving up of pleasurable things is supposed to be penance for our sins - and maybe it is - but ultimately, I’m going to reap the rewards, in better health and weight loss. (I think there may be a deeper spiritual message in that, but I’m not sure I’m up to playing connect the dots. Suffice it to say that if penance were truly akin to punishment, I should be forcing myself to eat chocolate - or bread - until it comes out my nostrils…which, tempting as that sounds right now, after having had carrots and Lean Cuisine for lunch, ain’t gonna happen. I’m all out of low-fat chocolate, palm-kernel oil blobs, anyway.)
I like this notion of adding something for Lent. Some of the things I’m thinking of adding:
- Learn to make Simnel Cake and bring two or three to church on Mothering Sunday (not to be confused with Mother’s Day). (Here’s another recipe.)
- Exercise. Regularly. Or don’t eat the Simnel Cake!
- Be brave; get out there and “just do it.” Camping, book signings, volunteering, school visits (if they’ll have me)… Just do it.
So, what are you giving up for Lent? (Yes, you - feel free to add a comment. It’s not like a private golf course where you can’t step on the grass - c’mon in, chat a while.)
Well, frankly - the jury's divided.
This started out as a dare (kids, here's why you don't want to take dares - but if you do, cooking tripe is better than doing drugs or Ghost Ridin' the Whip or whatever other harebrained thing your friends can come up with - I think). I asked, on QnA Live, what I should put on my redesigned Web site. "Recipes for Tripe" was one suggestion. I thought "Me, trying to cook tripe" might be even better. I had trouble deciding which page - "Nutrition & Fitness" or "Humor"?
Holly's Cooking School - where the clueless meet the inept. Could be... either.
I just can't wait to see what this smells like while it's cooking.
A Night Out at Fogo
de Chão
(The following poem is meant to be humorous, awful, the sort of thing sane writers shove under the crumpled wads of worthier efforts stashed in the circular file - it is not intended to be great "litrahchure," so please do not feel obligated to point out to me that "it sucks.")
Raging,
ravenous need to tear
Great hunks of meat from proffered skewers
While sipping a mojito: rum, crushed mint, fresh lime.
Take
a picture of this:
Chewing, swallowing - need to breathe?
Flip the coaster, green to red, hold up a hand - STOP!
Not
a flattering photo.
A Brazilian steak house? No place
for pinch-faced vegetarians, Hindus, or members of PETA.
Non,
je regrette rien...
Except, maybe, the salad bar. Superfluous
It seems, now. Greens, rice, pickled things, quail eggs, soup...
Pre-filler
filler-upper.
Never say "diet" at Fogo
de Chão;
it has the word "die" in it. "Die" starts with
"d" and marks an end,
As
does "dessert."
Oh, Holy Mother of Pearl -
They serve dessert here, too?
Torshi-e Makhlut
(Recipe adapted from Food of Life, by Najmieh Batmanglij; commentary compliments of the chef. My copy of the cookbook is apparently the "old" Food of Life; I'm not sure if this recipe's in the "new" edition or not. I highly recommend any cookbook by this woman, though - the instructions are clear, the photos lovely, and your results are almost guaranteed to look like the pictures if you follow the recipes as written. Even if they don't, they'll taste great.)
2 large eggplants
2 green peppers
1 lb. carrots
½ lb. turnips
½ head cauliflower
1 lb. pearl onions
5 cloves garlic
½ c. chopped mint leaves
½ c. chopped parsley
½ c. chopped coriander (cilantro) leaves
½ c. chopped basil leaves
3-4 quarts wine vinegar
2 T. salt
½ tsp. freshly ground black pepper
2 T. gol-par (powdered angelica)
1 tsp. advieh (Iranian allspice; substitute allspice, if unavailable)
3 tsp. siah daneh (caraway seeds)
¼ tsp. cayenne pepper
1. Prick the eggplants with a fork to prevent bursting and bake on oven rack for 1 hour at 350ºF.
2. Wash green peppers and cut into small pieces. Scrape carrots, wash, and chop fine. Wash turnips and chop. Wash cauliflower and separate into small flowerets. Wash and chop celery. Clean and wash pearl onions. Peel and chop garlic cloves.
3. Wash herbs and drain. Dry thoroughly, then chop.
4. Place baked eggplant on wooden cutting board. Remove and discard skin; chop flesh into small pieces. Sprinkle with salt. Cover with a clean towel and let stand for about an hour.
5. Cook chopped eggplant in 2 c. vinegar over medium heat for about 10 minutes.
6. Place eggplant, 2 quarts vinegar, salt, pepper, gol-par, advieh (or allspice), siah daneh (caraway seeds), cayenne pepper, chopped herbs, garlic, and vegetables in a large bowl. Mix well. Add more vinegar if necessary.
7. Sterilize jars in boiling water. Dry thoroughly with a clean towel. Fill to within ½ inch of the top with the mixture. Sprinkle with salt and fill to the brim with vinegar. Seal the jars.
8. Store in a cool place for at least 10 days before using.
Notes:
It has been about 15 years since I last made this, because it's a pain in the ass to make. A food processor helps a lot, but it's easy to chop the vegetables too fine with it. That's not ideal.
When it comes to canning and putting up things in jars, I'm clueless; I do know that the lids should pop down in order to properly seal. As I recall, the mixture needs to be quite warm in order for the jars to seal properly; the cooling liquid sucks the lid down and forms a vacuum. As I recall, my sister-in-law and I got around he problem of jars that wouldn't seal on the first try by using a large stock pot for the "bowl" in step 6 and dumping the jars back into it if the seals failed to pop down after about 15 minutes. We heated the stuff up a bit, then tried again. Look, there's enough vinegar and salt in this stuff that no one's going to get sick.
My mother-in-law was convinced we were going to kill everyone in the family the first time we made this. She asked what kind of pot we were using. I said "anodized aluminum," as in that professional, semi-non-stick, fired-at-2000-degrees, indestructible shit that costs a fortune – not just some cheap-ass aluminum pot. She started spouting off nonsense about aluminum and vinegar combining to release deadly toxins. I yelled at my sister-in-law to open the windows, and then realized this was one of those old wives' tales that might have some basis in reality, but we weren't going to find out the truth of it first-hand any time soon. But use glass or anodized aluminum. Avoid cheap metal pots and Teflon-coated things, as the vinegar might damage them.
My mother-in-law wouldn't touch that batch of torshi for over a year. Maybe she got the last laugh, though. I hear the longer it sits, the better it tastes. I'm not sure how long is too long, though, so I suggest opening within 2-3 years (assuming the seal's intact) and using it within 6-12 months of opening it. Be sure to refrigerate after opening.
This is an incredible cookbook. I highly recommend it; not only are the instructions clear and easy-to-follow, but the pictures look good enough to eat and show you how the dish should look, when you're done. Amazingly, they actually do look that way, if you follow the recipes! I got this shortly after I was married, and my husband's family brags on what a good Persian cook I am. It's all thanks to these recipes.
As you can see in the picture, I must have measured wrong - get about double the jars you think you need, just in case. It was only supposed to make about half this much. Just as well, though; this is fun, but it isn't so much fun I need to do it more than once or twice a year!
