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)