Breaking the Fast
April 21st, 2011 § 8 Comments
Day 111
Forget the oatmeal and the green monsters. Forget the fancy smoothies and cereal and even having to turn on an appliance in the morning. Give me a banana and some almonds and I am set for 4-5 hours with no signs of hunger. I discovered this combination as a result of trying to rid my diet of as much processed foods as possible. It also helps that I am perpetually running late from the second I wake up, leaving me with no time to cook. I suppose it’s a combination of proteins, good fats and a lot of other dietary things I don’t understand, but this grab-and-go option is where it’s at.
What’s your first meal of the day look like?
Rainy Day Remembrance
March 23rd, 2011 § 5 Comments
Day Eighty-Two
There are so many things I love about this photo.
I love that it the forecast called for rain and Carrie packed her gorgeous umbrella with the wooden handle. I love that we only had to use it for the 10 minutes we walked to breakfast. I love that we feel New York enough to have “our” breakfast spot that we visit every morning each time we visit New York. I love the dull yellow from the wall behind it. I love the bright green. I love how you can’t really tell that it was raining in this photo, but that memory will tell me forever that it was. Most of all what I love about this photo is that it makes me feel warm and happy and loved. It takes me right to that spot in Chelsea, sitting in that wooden chair in the crowded French patisserie that envelopes me in appreciation and starts my day off right.
To me, this is what photography is all about.
Do you have a photo that does the same thing for you?
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Basil Makes Me Happy
March 4th, 2011 § 5 Comments
Day Sixty-Three
This morning I welcomed back an old favorite. I used to make this breakfast for Carrie and I all the time. I found the recipe in a Hungry Girl cookbook and beefed it up a little bit by using whole mozzarella instead of the low-fat string cheese. Call it adventurous. Hey, it’s Friday, right?
This is super quick and ridiculously delicious. All you need to do is smear some butter (or margarine if that’s your thing) on an English muffin, sprinkle on some garlic, layer on a slice of heaven cheese and some fresh basil. Basil makes this whole dish – trust me. Fork over the $2.34 or $4.34 or whatever it is and get some. I literally ran around the grocery store with the little package under my nose Wednesday night. I may have declared there is no sweeter smell than basil. Ahem. Moving on. Heat your oven to 325 degrees. While you’re waiting for things to get toasty, cut up a Roma tomato – yes it has to be a Roma, just trust me – and sear it in a frying pan. When it darkens to your liking, place atop the basil and pop in the oven for about five minutes. Try not to dance around your kitchen in anticipation.
If you get the melt just right, you’ll probably want to inhale it in one bite. It’s savory and light and filling all at once – you’ll know what I’m talking about when you take that first big bite and have juicy tomato running down your chin.
I know I stand pretty firmly on the “I don’t cook” end of the spectrum, but this one is worth dirtying the dishes for. Promise.
Where There’s Smoke
February 5th, 2011 § 3 Comments
Day Thirty-Six: Feb. 5, 2011
So, remember the several dozen times I’ve mentioned I don’t really cook?
This should serve as all the proof you’ll ever need.
For the record, that’s the remnants of one cup of milk I was boiling to make stupid, stupid oatmeal. I think the cold weather tripped something in my brain to make me think I wanted it for breakfast and like the kitchen genius that I am, I walked away and forgot all about it.
I really wish I could have snapped a better, more artfully taken photo, but I was literally running around a smoky house yelling, “Oh God, Oh God, Oh God!” I did grab my camera, though. (And that should tell you something – crazy?)
Straight back to the microwave and grits for this girl.
Disclaimer: I am a fabulous baker. And buyer. If you invite me over for dinner I will bake or buy whatever your little tummy desires. And then we can laugh about this.Breakfast Reloaded
October 12th, 2010 § 34 Comments
Long before I was a blogger – some may classify me as a healthy living one, I’ll let you be the judge after this – I was a reader of blogs. Although I can’t quite pinpoint it, I think I started lurking around these parts in 2007. You can imagine how many bowls of oatmeal my eyes have bore witness to since.
That’s why I believe I can officially say without much hesitation, that I think oatmeal sucks.
I have no idea who did that.
Now before you get your pjs all in a bunch, let me offer the disclaimer that in no way do I think you’re a bad person if you LURV oatmeal. In the name of all things breakfast, whatever pops your tart. It’s just not doing it for me.
I understand the health benefits of oatmeal. I understand it offers great sustenance. But people, it tastes like goo. I take that back, it tastes like pasty goo.
I’ve tried instant, steel-cut, warm and cold. No, no, no and NO. Adding fruit, nut butters (which are second in line of stuff I don’t see the hype over) and anything resembling the kitchen sink method doesn’t dissipate my mouth’s response of “this tastes like it just came off the slimy side of the geriatric buffet.”
You can put it in a jar, you can eat it in the car, you can get all Dr. Seuss with yourself and I’m still going to think it’s terrible.
Aside from the texture – and I know there’s some food you all hate because of the texture – my problem with oatmeal is this: it cannot stand alone. It can barely stand with one ingredient. How many times have you opened your Google Reader in the morning, and seen a “ZOMG OATMEAL!” recipe with just…oats? Yeah, I didn’t think so.
Now, I must provide proof to back up my “quick-and-easy-breakfast-that-packs-punch-and-has-flavor-without-seven-mix-ins.”
Look no further than grits.
I know. It’s a little scary. You might be thinking, “What is it?” Well, first of all, you’d be grammatically incorrect. Grits is plural, so I would first correct you. “No, it’s, ‘what are they?’”
In the most basic form, grits are simply coarsely ground corn.
I’ll let you recollect after reading the word “corn.” I know that is another scary word in the healthy living realm. Repeat after me: “Corn is okay. Corn will not kill me.”
Also, see that word coarsely? Yeah, grits has a nice texture to it, and it’s not of the paste variety. And guess what? With the simple addition of one ingredient you’ve got yourself deliciousness. Butter, cheese, syrup or jam all mix easily into grits. Or you can add all four. Live a little.
I’m the world’s laziest worst most pressed-for-time cook in the mornings, so my grits is of the instant variety.
I did a little side by side on the nutrition label – yes, oatmeal may have a few extra points on its team, but don’t we all love to cheer for the underdog? I mean, look at the Cleveland Browns. We still love Brady Quinn, right? (And not just because he’s pretty.)
Back to the grits. I’ve been enjoying mine with a little sprinkled cheese nearly every morning for two weeks.
Before you get all judgy-wudgy-was-a-bear on grits, remember I’ve seen what you eat and um, homegirl? It ain’t no Miss America, either, mmk?
It may not be the most ascetically pleasing dish out there, but let’s get real, there is far worse being photographed on the dinner table each night.
And unlike the oatmeal lovers of the world, I would never dream of taking 15 minutes to get the perfect shot of my beloved grits, even if it meant rearranging my dining room or experimenting with light at different points in the morning.
I mean, I just don’t have time for that sort of thing.
I realize with this admittance I may have just turned some people away. I can understand. I mean, if anyone started shit talkin’ on my grits, I’d start ruffling up my feathers and get angry, too. But that’s because grits is the perfect sustainable food that can stand alone or with one addition. It can be cooked in less than two minutes and doesn’t require a stove or a fancy presentation.
Also? I’m pretty sure when it’s my turn to hit up the slimy side of the geriatric buffet, you’ll find me first in line, gums flapping, yelling, “GWITSHHH!”
