Moved

Yesterday we moved. What does this mean to my stomach? A whole new kitchen. A NEW KITCHEN. Of course, not really new.

My old kitchen was new. Brand new. It had a ceramic stove top and a giant self cleaning oven. A huge refrigerator that made ice cubes, a giant dishwasher. Stainless steel everything. Granite countertops. I hated it. It had no personality (well, maybe sort of stuck up) and no history and I was always worried I was going to break something. Not to mention my habit of burning/melting things on that sci-fi stove top. (Burned and/or melted: two spatulas, three cutting boards, silicon oven mitt, one cotton towel, 1/4 of my food processor, tea pot, and many, many dishes of food that I thought I had set on a cool burner but was actually not only hot, but still on). Well, live and learn: I need burners.

My new kitchen is not new. My stove is about a foot and half wide. It has coil burners (thank god). The burner heat is controlled by push buttons, like the kind on an old blender, and only has 5 settings. It says GE and it means it (think curly blue letters embossed on a silver background). The oven is also itty bitty and is definitely not self cleaning. The counters are pink. Well, maybe not pink but sort of rosy. And they have a bowling alley print on them. You know what I mean- think neon boomerangs. Needless to say, my new kitchen is bomb-ass awesome.

But I haven't told you the best part. The best part is- we have a table. A KITCHEN TABLE. Where I can sit and eat dinner and breakfast at a normal height. No more cowering over my coffee table trying to keep the cats tails out of my food. No more eating in front of the TV (even if it is off, it still seems wrong). And it also means I can really sit and enjoy a meal. I can take my time. I can appreciate the work I put into and the work others put into getting it to me. I can take a minute and just look at my food. I can eat the way eating is meant to be.

I love my new kitchen- I'm getting hungry just thinking about it.

really?: a realization

Ok, Bastyr cafeteria. It is SO ON! I moved half of my stuff and none of my food into my new apartment and you weren't there for me this morning when I was ACTUALLY CRAVING OATMEAL and had no option for food but you. So I had almonds for breakfast. I love almonds. But if I am going to have almonds for breakfast I need something else too. Like yogurt or a scone. OR OATMEAL. But today, of all days, you were closed. Until 11am. Really?

Which brings me to an interesting point in my "I'll let my stomach make all my food decisions" experiment. My stomach does not have a brain. It craves one thing and one thing only. But what happens when life intervenes? When the school I go to is building new dorms and shuts the water off for four unexpected hours on the one day I am actually craving something the cafeteria always has? Or when it's finals week and I don't have time to cook? Or I am moving and I only have 5 giant stock pots and plastic glasses to cook and eat with? Or when I'm just too tired to make what I am craving? What happens when my brain doesn't give my stomach what it wants?

I'll tell you what happens. I default. I default to comfort foods that I am not craving. Occasionally I default in ways that I am OK with: yogurt and granola, muesli, or nuts; raisin bran with almond milk, peanut butter and toast, the easy, relatively healthy classics. But more often than not I default to frozen pizza, bread and cheese, goldfish crackers, or macaroni. And while I am OK with any of these choices once in a while, when my brain is forcing them on my stomach they don't work. They don't sit well, they make me tired, I feel crappy and greasy and gross.

So, in a stark contrast to my original plan, today I have decided to give my brain control. Not for every food choice I will make. But for what it is good at: planning. So, later today, I am giving my brain a free trip to the grocery store. What will come of it? I guess we'll just have to wait and see... (but I'm guessing there will be a list)

Moving

I'm moving. Not far, but you know, you don't need to move far to have to pack up all of your things and clean out your cupboards. And cleaning out my cupboards is where I came across a realization. I have erratic eating tendencies. I will get SO EXCITED about something, something food related, and then be OVER IT. Immediately. Also, sometimes I make bad choices. So, in the graveyard that is my cupboard, a review of what I found:

-not one, not two, not three, but four half eaten Milton's crackers boxes
-two nearly full boxes of whole wheat pasta boxes (GROSS)
-seven tiny bags of grains (arborio rice, brown rice, buckwheat, toasted buckwheat, couscous, quinoa, and 10 grain cereal) (I try to hard)
-sesame seeds (seemingly normal, but I bought them when we moved in to our place a year ago, and they are still unopened... and I packed them to bring to our next place- hey, you never know)
-three bottles of rancid oil (one vegetable, one oil, one sesame)
-two dried packets of macaroni and cheese cheese- leftover from homemade macaroni and cheese night, for super macaroni and cheese, someday in the future
-cardamom- a seasoning we bought for reasons I can't remember
-Molly McButter- It's not mine, I swear! I brought it home as a joke for Joe, who actually loves it
-two two gallon ziplock baggies of beer bottle caps for a craft project to be determined in the distant future
-three free cat food samples, thanks Kelly!
-powdered miso soup packets, from before I discovered the real stuff
-a bag of the best tortilla chips ever- so good, in fact, that I didn't want to waste eating them without guacamole. Guacamole that I never made.
-two nearly empty bags of parmesan goldfish crackers. Why, oh why, didn't I eat the last seven crackers? Who saves seven goldfish crackers?
-two containers of baking soda AND two containers of baking powder

For tonight, a frozen pizza. Pre-sliced (an accident, actually, but great since I already packed all kitchen appliances).

It's hot

I'm not complaining. I'm not. It has beautiful and wonderful and warm for a week. It feels like summer and I never want it to stop. Ever. But when it is this hot I don't really feel like eating much. Yesterday at work I couldn't stop talking about how much I wanted to shower, and I was told I was talking about showers like I used to talk about cheese. That made me sad.


In fact, the only food craving of interest I have had this week has been cottage cheese. Which is weird because I always hated cottage cheese. But not very interesting.

So instead of telling you about the delicious nature of cottage cheese (the tiny curds of sweet cheese, the tangy... cottage?) I'm going to go outside and get some sun. Let's hope my stomach gets back on track...

Intestines

Intestines are a wonderful thing. I know they seem gross, and in war movies they are always popping out of people, and they make and hold poop, but regardless, intestines are a wonderful thing. Let's explore the delightful little coils.

There are two kinds of intestines: small and large. The small intestine is composed of three parts but, who cares? The small intestine takes all the crazy acidic broken down food from the stomach and breaks it down into tiny compounds that we can actually absorb. And use. Things like energy and vitamins and minerals. PRETTY IMPORTANT.

Of course, the large intestine plays a role too. The large intestine is, let me say, AWESOME. Not just for what it is, but also for what it holds. The large intestine is home to BILLIONS AND BILLIONS of bacteria. Not impressed? What if I told you those bacteria weighed MORE THAN TWO POUNDS!!! TWO POUNDS!!! And these bacteria do wild things. They digest food that the small intestine didn't. And not just that, they digest these waste products into THINGS WE CAN USE. And these things may protect against colon cancer. They also ward off the bad guys- they even secrete anti bacterial compounds that target "bad bacteria." Now that is just NUTS.

Then, when the intestines are done, poop is made. I love poop because it is funny and it also makes you think. Today I learned that the majority of poop is water and dead bacteria. WHAT??? That's wacky. And sweet.

Ok, it seems unlikely that you are still reading. But if you are, you probably understand why intestines are oh so great. And you probably also understand why I'm curious what my intestines want me to eat. I've been trying to tune in down there and find out what's going on. So far, no luck, so I think I'll just guess.

My intestines dream day:

Breakfast:
Yogurt (with millions of new bacteria friends)
Granola (to move my food through me at an optimal speed)
Lunch:
Chili with lots of beans (fiber, fiber, fiber. gives my intestines a good scrubin and makes sure everything is moving- but not too fast)
Salad (I really think that my intestines wish my stomach wanted more salads, just like may brain does)
Snack:
Aged cheese plate (more bacteria friends, plus I think my intestines probably like cheese as much as the rest of me) (and because I think my intestines really like to snack)
Dinner:
Roasted veggies including sunchokes (fiber, plus inulin which is food specifically for my bacterial friends)
Berries and more berries (we all like berries. All of me and and my bacteria friends)

Well, I hope you enjoyed this journey into my feelings on intestines and what life would be like if my intestines ruled the world. Or at least my plate.

I would also like to say that I'm sure some of you are thinking, "hey it's funny that Christie love's intestines so much, because her favorite foods are traditionally made from intestines, which is gross." I really don't have anything to say to that. As much as I love intestines, I do have a hard time wanting to eat them. But instead of dwelling on it, I have chosen to recognize the discrepancy, and move on.

voodoo magic

Today I practiced voodoo magic. Ok, not really. But when you go to a weird hippie school that practices some strange homeopathic remedies, people assume everything you do is voodoo. When really, only some of the things I do are voodoo, and not the ones you'd expect. Moving on...

This morning Joe was coughing and I thought, "this is it! my excuse!" For what you ask? To use the mystery powers of garlic to prevent sickness. Yes garlic! Last week on Tuesday we learned all about the mystical nature of garlic and how if you are getting sick, you have nothing to lose from eating a few cloves of garlic. The enchanted little globes let loose a barrage of newts eyes and salamander tails and they fight and fight and fight all of the evil beings in your body and you get well. Or something. Whatever it is, garlic something awesome. It is antibiotic, antioxidant, and anti-inflammatory. And hopefully, it will save me from the mild cough Joe had this morning.

My favorite part of this potion (garlic) is that to prepare it you use... THE MICROWAVE. So, to prepare this nectar of the gods simply peel the garlic, stab it with a fork and nuke it for 20 seconds. Then eat. I spread it on toasted homemade bread with a bit of butter. Just like the witches of yesteryear.

DATES?!?!

Despite a good 4 minute web search I can't find anything about date toxicity. Regardless, I hate dates. I'm sick of date bars, date balls, dates in bread, dates in scones, dates in breakfast cereal, you name it, I'm over it. Dates are the worst. EVER!

Dates are gross. They look gross, they smell gross, they taste gross.

Dates are a pain. They have a pit. A PIT!! Girl, please.

Dates are not sugar. Sugar is sugar. Honey is sugar. Dates are not sugar. You here that Bastyr? DATES ARE NOT SUGAR!

Dates are chewy. Not good chewy, like chewy granola bars. Bad chewy, like "what is this in the middle of my muffin?" chewy.

Dates have no vitamin C. Can you believe it?

I think my point is obvious. Eating dates is lame.

Here are some other uses of dates:

Date seeds can be used for animal feed (but do we really want to do that to animals?- this is questionable)

Date oil can be used for cosmetics (Date Face!)

Date branches can be made into brooms. Brooms!

Date leaves can be made into hats. Hats!

So I think it is clear that we should abandon eating dates. Instead, I'd really love to see more date hats.

(On a side note, my friend Kristie told me about dates stuffed with blue cheese and wrapped in bacon. This does sound delicious. But I would eat a chair stuffed with blue cheese and wrapped in bacon. Point made.)

Stress

I like to think of myself as a sort of even keeled person. Sometimes I get fake worked up to blow off steam, but usually I'm happy or at the very least indifferent. But, every once in a while everything hits at once and that is when the stress sets in. So, as I navigate finding a new apartment with midterms and a new job I have felt the pressure slowly move in. Into my gut. We know that the brain and the gut are connected, that they share signaling molecules and that they influence one another. And when stress hits I have no choice but to listen to my stomach.

My stomach of course knew I was stressed this week before I did. Slowly, an overwhelming sense of nausea set in. I wasn't really hungry, but I wasn't really full. I just felt icky. Yeah, that's right, icky. And so, all last week, I just ate, well bland crap. Certainly not worth discussing. And that is that.

Or is it? When I'm nauseas, a wonderful category of food presents itself to me. Wet food. Not, dog food soup, which is a weird phenomenon I'm just not hip enough to embrace. Smoothies, applesauce, yogurt, I love it all. But what I really wanted was milk!! MILK!! I love delicious milk. I am, after all, from Wisconsin. And I do love milky milk milk. Yeah, I sweet talk milk- so what?

Unfortunately, milk and I are not on the best of terms. When I was in high school and college (yes, in Wisconsin) I was nonstop sick. With some crazy cough. Ok, it wasn't that big of a deal, but I did whoop it up so much as to get not one, not two, but three anti smoking chats from coaches along the way. And I was diagnosed with milk asthma. Yes, MILD ASTHMA. Can you believe it?

And, when I moved to Oregon, it went away. At this time I was living with some people who turned out to be near VEGANS (eek!) who told me they would prefer it if I not keep milk in the fridge. So, milk made its way out of my life. But about a year ago, I moved up to Seattle and had a lot of alone time. Which always leads to interesting food jags. This time, it was cereal. With milk. Well, what do you know if my cold didn't come back. Of course, it took me about 6 more months (at nutrition school) to come to make the connection. And I switched to almond milk (almost as good).

But, every once in a while, during stressful periods in my life, I go back to milk and my mild asthma symptoms. Call me nostalgic.

Darn

It's not always easy to eat guilt free. I believe that my stomach makes choices that are good for me. For the most part, it steers me away from foods that make me sick and towards things that make me feel good. Since starting this "diet" (maybe way of life is more appropriate) I feel better than I have in the past and I have actually lost a little weight. I tend to eat a more balanced, albeit random, array of foods when I let my decisions be made without guilt. When I don't avoid a food I really want and then over do it with other foods as a reward. Plus, I get to eat what I want. I don't deprive myself and I eat really good food most of the time.

Well, despite all of this it really is NOT EASY to eat guilt free all of the time. Especially when you go to nutrition school. I mean, on Thursday we spent an entire class pinching each others fat.

Really? Do we need to do this? Really? My classmate/friend has to stick her finger into my belly button, reach over and pinch as much fat as her hand can handle. Really? You want me to hold a measuring tape to my nipple, then you reach towards my armpit and squeeze? For reals?! How is it that the thigh measurement, seemingly the most awkward is actually the least? Of seven measurements! And you think I'm going to show up to class in my sports bra and shorts? Come on!

You think this is accurate? You think that you can pinch my love handles and tell how much total body fat I have? You think your skinfold pinchers know more than I know about myself? Let's just say it like it is- fatfold pinchers. And why should I even care how much body fat I have? What if I just feel great for the first time in a long time?! Doesn't that count? DOESN'T IT??

Ok, reading this, it does sound awkward, but not really worth getting all up in arms about. I mean, I know that I may have to do this clients in the future, and so will my classmates. It was good practice. But at the same time it brought out in me my unhealthy relationship with food and my body. Even as our teacher was telling us that we get obsessed with numbers and that they are just an estimate I found myself getting obsessed with the numbers.

I recounted what I ate that morning, and why. I asked myself if I really needed that chocolate ice cream. I compared my body to the other bodies in my class and came up short. And wide. My friend and I jokingly (maybe) called the experience eating disorderific. As I spiraled back from whence I came I knew in my head that I am right. That I am making the right decisions for me. I know that I am not fat, that I am at a healthy weight for me and that I feel good about it. That I feel healthy and happy most of the time. And that eating without judgments of good and bad is working.

But I was shaken by this experience. I guess the good news is that fat grabbing parties are pretty rare and generally easy to avoid. And that the experience actually didn't change how I eat. And the following day, when I bit into a giant salami and gorgonzola cheese sandwich I knew that I was right. Even if fat accumulates in the space one to two centimeters below the inferior angle of my scapula.

Another look back...

April 27- french toast with strawberry rhubarb sauce, macaroni and cheese, zucchini and onion, apple, peanut butter, homemade bread with eggplant and zucchini

April 28- yogurt, hard boiled egg, banana, chocolate chip cookie, pizza, beer

April 29- hoppin' john, polenta, bananas, kiwis, strawberries, cashew cream, kale, wint-o-green lifesavers, chicken sausage pasta disaster (see below), chocolate peanut butter ice cream

April 30- yogurt, sesame seed bagel with butter, chocolate chip bagel, margaritas, cheese quesidilla

May 1- banana, yogurt, salumi sandwich (salami, gorgonzola, tapenade, onions), beer, pizza

May 2- macaroni and cheese, homemade pizza with salumi salami

May 3- homemade pizza with salumi salami, miso soup, baguette with homemade tapenade

Ok, I bought kale. That's right kale. Like the name of the blog. I'm sending messages to my stomach to eat MORE VEGETABLES. Really? What kind of a nutrition student's stomach are you?

Oops

The thing about talking on the phone is it makes it awfully hard to hear your stomach. Today I got a call from my wonderful friend Mary as I was leaving work. I talked to her on my way to the grocery store, while I picked out what I was going to have for dinner, on my way home from the grocery store, and while I made dinner. And I completely ignored both my stomach and common sense.

Ok, what to eat, what to eat.

Oh, you're thinking about going back to Portland?

Hmmm.., an apple sounds good.

No, not Americorps, again!? Really?

Ooh, tiny onions!

But is that arty enough for you?

SAUSAGE! It was so good in cooking class, I could use some more sausage.

Mary, should I get turkey sausage or chicken sausage? Oh, that's right, you don't eat meat.

Wine sauce. Good with clams = good with chicken sausage.

So you're sick of living with your parents after only a week?

Don't need wine, have plenty... should leave.

I totally remember that! You are the most awkward person I know!

Natural Soda? Yes please.

You would be the best museum curator ever.

I can't believe this was only 5 dollars!!

Oh, not curator? Manager? Samesies.

Ok, start by boiling water for pasta.

So, what's this boy's deal?

Yes, just like cooking class, simmer up some wine

Wait, you aren't awkward in Texas, just in Portland? I don't understand.

Chop chop chop. Granny Smith Apple, Onion, Garlic.

How many people live there?

Oh! Add pasta to pot.

Really? I did not know that still happened

Ok, apple sausage is something. And cooking sausage in wine is something. And boiling brats in beer and onions is something. So I'll just add these chopped green apples and onions and garlic to the wine, then throw in the sausage, cover it and walk away.

So what are you doing when you aren't hanging with the fam?

Herbs!! Yes, fresh herbs. I'll just pick some oregano, thyme and rosemary and throw it in.

So he was outside of the bar smoking a cigarette and you were outside the bar knitting?

Ok, time to take out the sausage and brown it and reduce the sauce. Should probably add some butter.

Well, I should probably get going, my dinner is almost ready. Talk to you soon!

Oh --- dear --- lord,

what have I done?

In case you're wondering it wasn't good. It was kind of like buttery white wine applesauce with onions and garlic and really pale mushy leaves in it served over not done noodles with crusty meat-like disks.

The moral of this story, kiddos, is to never neglect your stomach even for your dear friend Mary unless you are willing to have handfuls of dry raisin bran for dinner.

A look back...

Wondering what I've been eating? I am.

April 21- cranberry raspberry yogurt; apple; orange; banana; entire bag of goldfish crackers; burger with gorgonzola cheese; sunchokes

April 22- apple with peanut butter; chocolate chip pancakes with strawberry rhubarb sauce; scrambled eggs with kale; margherita pizza; dark chocolate covered nuts

April 23- crumb cake; variety of pureed foods (I don't want to talk about it); strawberry banana smoothie, fritos, salumi salami, gorgonzola cheese, mozzarella cheese, clam and zucchini pasta with white wine sauce; tiramisu

April 24- fritos; hot dog with cream cheese; salad; beer; half a hamburger; fries; mozzarella sticks; few handfuls of raisin bran

April 25- cheese bagel with cream cheese; chorizo and pepper pockets; beer; chocolate peanut butter ice cream

April 26- french toast with strawberry rhubarb sauce; cheddar cheese; margaritas; baguette and cheese

I think my stomach needs to crave more vegetables...

Breakfast

One thing my stomach always wants is breakfast. Some days, a yogurt will suffice. Some times I need more. Today, I needed a monster feast. I woke up STARVING. And when I thought about it, my stomach was right yet again. I really haven't eaten very much this weekend. I got caught up in other things, I had a different schedule, and I forgot to eat. And my stomach let me know this morning that it was NOT HAPPY with my choices.

I would say about once or twice a week I get a message like this from the gut. Basically, it just tells me to eat and eat and eat and eat. Until I get full. Now, you might think, hey, I thought you were letting your stomach make all the choices, so why don't you always eat until you are full. And I promise you, I do. But this is a different kind of full. This is a kind of full that can only be obtained when I am STARVING. I don't know how to describe it, other than saying it is painful, but exciting. I really enjoy eating and eating and eating.

Before, when I let my brain do the thinking, I would be STARVING and I would just eat a normal amount. Sometimes I even enjoyed the pain. It would, of all things, make me feel skinny. Which is just stupid. And later, after I enjoyed the pain, I would reward myself. With a cookie. And then, hey why not another cookie. And, you know, I did such a good job ignoring my hunger earlier that I could probably have some ice cream. And eventually I would fulfill my hunger. But in a way that made me feel gross. Now, I acknowledge and treat the hunger. And I try to make the most of it.

So, to appease the devil that is my stomach, I made a delicious spring breakfast today. I had orange french toast from a baguette and strawberry rhubarb sauce. I can't be too proud, because the sauce recipe was from my cooking class, and french toast is so easy to make, but I can still be a little proud. And I am. It was delicious.

If your curiouos, here is what I did. The strawberry rhubarb sauce is adapted from Cynthia Lair.

3 tablespoons water
1 tablespoon sugar
1 stick rhubarb, diced
3 eggs
3 tablespoons milk
1 tablespoon orange juice
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1 12" long baguette, sliced in 1" pieces
1 tablespoon butter
10 strawberries, halved with stems removed
Juice from half a lemon

Heat water in small saucepan over medium high heat. Add sugar and mix until dissolved. Add rhubarb and cover, simmering over medium heat for about 5 minutes. Add strawberries and lemon juice, reduce heat to low and simmer for 10 minutes, or until completely soft and easily mashable with a fork. Remove from heat and allow to cool slightly.

While the sauce is cooking, combine the egg, milk, orange juice and cinnamon. Mix thoroughly. Soak the baguette slices in the egg mixture, turning to make sure they are completely covered.

Heat a large skillet over medium high heat. Add butter. When butter is completely melted add slices of french toast to the skillet, filling but not over crowding. Flip the bread when bottom is slightly browned, about 2 minutes. Let the other side brown the same amount and remove from skillet. Repeat until all bread is gone.

Serve French toast with strawberry sauce on top.

Sunburn

Ok, so I've lived in the Pacific Northwest for long enough to know that it's not summer yet. But I also know when a teaser summer day presents itself, you take advantage. So today, after 6 hours in the sun, my stomach is happy but hungry. And craving summer food: hamburgers. Which means re-acquainting myself with my favorite appliance--the grill!!

Despite the fact that the day was set up for disasters: only a half hour of sun left, propane tank (yes, propane, whatever) not hooked up, really have to pee but there isn't enough time (wait, yes there is, there's always time for pee), handling a grill and a stove top that are 20 feet apart with a screen door and two cats in between, timing two meal parts to be done at the same time, and managing the pain of my sunburn. But, this time, everything went fine. My finesse on the grill came back to me, I can totally grill in the dark, my timing is awesome, the sunburn kept me warm when the sun went down. And, I ended up with an amazing burger- with fresh rosemary, thyme, and gorgonzola cheese. Needless to say- it was the perfect end to a perfect summer day.

Oh, were you looking for a rant? Well, you're in luck...

Why do people have to work out outside? I mean, OK, it's like the nicest day ever. But maybe there should be a special place for those special people who feel the need to work out. Yeah, like an enclosed space where the rest of us don't have to see them. Like a jail. With a concrete wall that is both vision and sound proof. I mean c'mon, who runs? Right? Whatever, running is good for you but so boring. And really hard. I walk. I WALK. That's right, I walk to the grocery store, I walk to the Boxcar, sometimes I even walk for fun. But who cares? Really, can't I just take care of myself without running or doing lunges and push-ups and jumping rope in public places? Ok, jumping rope is fun, especially since I double dutch like crazy. One time. But let me ask again, who runs? Except from bears, I just can't figure it out. And seriously, why do runners have to totally ruin my day by running. Oh you think you're so great? Well, check out this sunburn, bitch.

Oh, Bastyr students? Wondering what those potatoes are in the picture? Oh, they're not potatoes, they're those mysterious Jerusalem Artichokes. Prebiotics for my probiotics.

Uggh

An interesting thing about following your stomach is that sometimes you just don't feel good. When I started this experiment, a few months ago, I went through a number of phases like this. When I started eating cereal again (not just any cereal, Cinnamon Life cereal) I felt great and then terrible in a matter of a few days. Same thing with cheese crackers. I went through a lot of phases where my excitement to eat whatever I wanted would lead to me overdoing one particular food. And I wouldn't necessarily realize it right away. I would think, "I feel terrible. Tired, headaches, stomach aches, nausea." But it would take a few days for my stomach to say, "OK! Enough already. Let's try something else."

Lately, I had been thinking my stomach was getting better at this, but today I can solidly say not always. After a weekend of drinking beer, sitting in the sun, eating homemade bread, fruit, and whatever happy hours provided I feel terrible. And I have for three days now. I can distinctly remember feeling kinda crappy on Saturday, and then almost exactly repeating what I had done on Friday. Same thing on Sunday. In fact, it wasn't until last night that my stomach finally said, "Stop!". Pretty disappointing.

But, in every terrible stomach ache there is a lesson. And maybe this one came at exactly the right time, right before summer and the temptations to do nothing but drink yummy beer in the sun. So, hopefully next time a beautiful day presents me with nothing to do but relax, I will bring WATER and VEGETABLES and limit myself to just ONE BEER IN THE SUN. Got it?

Wisconsin!

I'm not even going to try to express my love. http://www.bratfest.com/

A look back...

Curious about what I've been eating? Me too. Let's look back...

April 10- marzipan croissant; cheeseburger with avocado; mozzarella sticks; homemade zucchini, onion, olive oil, and squash flat bread pizza and gorgonzola cheese and onion flat bread pizza; macaroni and cheese

April 11- strawberry orange french toast; homemade prosciutto and arugula pizza; beer

April 12- homemade bread with brie, raw honey, strawberries and blackberries; thinly sliced steak and butter sandwiches on homemade bread; asparagus with glazed pecans; wine; homemade bread with brie, raw honey, strawberries and blackberries (yes, again)

April 13- raisin bran with almond milk; homemade bread with raspberry jam; vegan chocolate raspberry cake; homemade bread with sliced cheese infused bratwurst and havarti cheese; grapes

April 14- raisin bran with almond milk; coconut and peach scone; double chocolate cookie; bread with butter; pizza with italian sausage, beer

April 15- raisin bran with almond milk; raspberry scone; curry with quinoa and cucumber sauce (cooking class); date and nut balls (cooking class); chocolate croissant; miso soup; orange; grapes

Ok, so that's a lot of pizza. But also I ate GOOD this week. That bread was maybe the best thing that ever happened to me. Also, I guess I really like raisin bran with almond milk. I should also say that I have felt wonderful this week- energetic, cheery, and even creative.

Brain vs. Beast

Please don't feel bad for my stomach. When I call her a beast, I promise you she likes it. In fact, she couldn't be happier since she has complete control of my life. She just loves to drive my brain crazy, especially when I try to overthink food. So, if I spend a few hours learning about the benefits of flavonoids, found in, you know, fruits and vegetables, SHE will probably want pizza. But today, I thought I had her. We learned about fats this morning. If there is one thing my stomach always wants its fats. And I'm cool with that. It turns out, my brain also loves fat (it's filling, it's delicious, and gosh darn it people like it). SO, imagine my surprise when I get done with work and my stomach wants fruit. Without cheese. And miso soup.

The one time I think I know what's coming BAM she goes and wants soup. SOUP! And fruit. For reals? Are you kidding me?? I'm over this. OVER THIS. Do you know what I would have done for fruit a few days ago? The peace of mind I could have had devouring my flavanoids and vitamins and minerals?? Well obviously she just doesn't care. I think that's pretty clear. And you know what? Maybe I don't care either... Except how could I not care?? I'm the one doing all the freaking work. I'm the one thinking my way through class ALL DAY. So whatever. WHATever. Fine. Have your soup.

Miso Soup.
From the recipe on my miso container, because, if you haven't already gotten it, whatever. However much mushrooms, onions, and garlic your little heart desires sauteed in oil (that's right, fat), probably toasted sesame oil. When they are soft, add stock until you have as much soup as you want. Add peanut butter (oh, do we only have chunky peanut butter, that's too bad)(also, more fat, so suck it). Simmer for a few minutes. Add a couple of spoonfuls of miso. Simmer for a while longer, I don't know, five more minutes? Add some kale (or whatever) and simmer until the kale is soft, maybe five more minutes. In the meantime I made some soba noodles because both she and I hate rice. Then I mixed them together. Also... it was actually good. And a nice spring meal. And the peanut butter was delicious. WHATEVER.

Completely giving into your stomach can be scary, and sometimes surprising. But I have to say, she usually knows best.

Bread

One thing my stomach always wants is bread. Not sandwich bread, or white bread, or even 100% whole wheat bread. What it really wants is bakery bread. Delicious, crusty on the outside soft on the inside bakery bread. The possibilities are endless: meatball sandwiches, eggplant sandwiches, with butter next to anything, to dip in soup, to put tapenade on, with peanut butter, with jam and goat cheese, just with jam, just with cheese, to soak anything left over on my plate, with spinach artichoke dip, BLT sandwiches, as French toast, and, eventually, to use as breadcrumbs.

This recipe has been haunting me for two years, first via the NY Times itself, then via emails, then via my intention to make it, then a few more emails, and most recently, just last week, a friend told me she did it. So, finally, 884 days after I first saw and was intrigued by this recipe, I went for it. And, for the first 20 hours, I totally rocked this recipe. But, sadly, I missed one key bit of information. A 6-8 quart pan, as it turns out, is fucking huge.

Since I'm dominating the crap out of this recipe, I might as well call my mom to wish her a Happy Easter and rub how awesome my bread is turning out in her face (it should be pointed out that my mom is the nicest lady in ever, and never needs things rubbed in her face). Wow, now she knows just how great I am. Oh! It's time to load my bread dough into a preheated pot. Let me just get this out of the oven and totally ignore the sirens coming from my stupid smoke detector since it is so f-ing sensitive and lift up the towel and HOLY CRAP. The dough has risen. Just like Jesus it has risen and I'm fucked. Because now it is about 5 times too big for any pot I have, let alone the one I preheated as per instructions. I check the recipe and it calls for a 6-8 quart pot. Who uses quarts?? Mine is only 2 quarts!! And it's the biggest pot I have!! What to do? What to do? Crap. I have to call my mom back. And apparently no, a stock pot is not an appropriate way to bake bread. And I loaned my car to Joe, that little mooch. Now I have to WALK in the rain to QFC to buy a new pot while my bread continues to rise. Why didn't I learn anything from Amelia Bedelia? Of course, the store takes forever and it's Easter and it smells like gross fake chocolate and I can't believe how many people I told that I was going to make this bread and now it's a huge failure. And of course, the store doesn't have the size pot I need so I'll just split the dough. Into three loaves, yes, three adorable little loaves. It'll be perfect. But how long should I cook it for? 1/3 of the time?? That's not enough. OK, I'll just stand by the oven the whole time. No big deal. Oh, OK, this is actually no big deal. Oh, it turned out totally fine. I guess I did totally rock this recipe after all. Suck it!

So, here is what my stomach wanted for breakfast today:


Curious? It's bread, brie, raw honey, strawberries and blackberries. Other things my stomach wanted today: asparagus and steak. (It always wants meat...)

Welcome to Bratwurst and Kale

Here's the deal...

In 2006 I graduated from college and left Wisconsin, where beer roams free and brats and cheese mate for life. Three years later here I am, attending Bastyr, a school specializing in natural medicine, to get another degree, this time in nutrition. Now, I find myself a bit stuck. Where does my love of cheese infused meats fit into my awareness of the health benefits of kale? Will delicious beer triumph over beets and kefir?

Some things you should know about my school: I should start out by saying, I love Bastyr. It is a great school, I learn TONS, and people there are truly committed to health equality and social justice. Programs include naturopathic medicine, acupuncture and traditional chinese medicine. When you go to a school like this, personal health and self care are at the center of everything you do. Needless to say, these people eat like total freaks. (I mean, can a girl get a cheesy brat?)

At first, I thought I might be converted:

Maybe I should be eating wheat grass smoothies with arugula and broccolini and maybe some peanut butter and I guess I should throw in some almond butter and maybe some hemp seeds, just to be safe. Or maybe I should do a cleanse, yeah, a cleanse. I won't eat anything but cayenne pepper for a week... no, a day. OK, just a couple of hours. Then I'll eat only raw food for a month. Or less. Can a fast last six hours and still be effective? OK, no more beer. For reals, beer is the worst. And meat? Meat shmeat. Oh, did I say I wasn't eating meat? I must have forgotten about that when I ate that hamburger. Whole grains! That's where it's at. Delicious brown rice. Sure, it's tough and chewy and has a weird flavor. And it takes fucking an hour to cook. But, no matter, health is my number one concern. What? I'm still hungry? Well, let me just binge on this box of *all natural* cheese crackers. Oh, and nothing goes better with salty crackers than chocolate, yeah chocolate. 78% cocoa. Of course, this isn't sweet enough. I'll just add some honey- a totally natural sweetener. Oh crap, but what about the bees? Fuck, the bees! Shit shit shit!

That didn't last long. It's not that I'm not concerned about my own health. I am. And I do think that eating healthy is a great way to take control of your health. But, I also think food should be enjoyable. And I don't think that guilt should have anything to do with the food choices we make.

So, for about four months now I have been letting my stomach make my food decisions, trusting that over time my body will learn to tell me what it needs, and that a truly healthy way of life does not include deprivation from cheese plates or brownies. Understanding that maybe a little bit of trans fat is actually better for me than blocking a food craving in the first place. There are a few limitations. Money matters. So, if I'm really craving Mexican food and someone offers me a free baked potato (seriously, this just happened) I'm going for the baked potato. Similarly, I don't have to go too far out of my way just because I'm craving something. So if I,m at home and all I have is peanut butter and a piece of naan, I may very well eat it, even if the naan is curry flavored (not good, if you were wondering).

But, for the most part, I listen to my gut. I've gone through some weird phases: bread and cheese for dinner every day for two weeks: salads (I have never liked salads before, or since, that one week in December); milk in massive quantities, with or without Life cereal; guacamole, guacamole, guacamole; butter on everything, peanut butter on everything; homemade Gorgonzola cheese and onion pizzas; Indian food (on a side note: never, ever buy Indian food from Trader Joe's- ever); salami, cheese and crackers; pasta with Alfredo sauce and toasted bread to dip in the Alfredo sauce; and, most recently, a return to my "native" food: brats.

Please, join me as I allow my stomach complete control of my life.