bearing blog

bearing blog


bear – ing n 1  the manner in which one comports oneself;  2  the act, power, or time of bringing forth offspring or fruit; 3 a machine part in which another part turns [a journal ~];  4  pl comprehension of one’s position, environment, or situation;   5  the act of moving while supporting the weight of something [the ~ of the cross].

  • Beyond Benedict.

    Google search:

    "poached egg on" OR "poached eggs on" "a bed of" -toast -muffin

    Results:

    poached eggs on a bed of potatoes with creme fraiche and sorrel

    poached eggs on a bed of vegetables (tomato, greens, garlic, breadcrumbs…)

    poached egg on sauteed mushrooms and pea shoots

    poached eggs on a bed of lettuce

    poached eggs on a bed of steamed spinach with garlic and onion

    Frisee aux Lardons:  poached egg on a bed of salad with bacon

    two poached eggs on a bed of local mixed greens, chopped bacon, fresh herbs, and potato

    poached eggs on a bed of creamed corn, with sautéed tomatoes on the side

    "Eggs Florentine is poached eggs on a bed of spinach topped with white sauce and cheddar cheese."

    "Bacon lardons and poached egg on a bed of arugula and kale with our house-made vinaigrette."

    "Poached eggs on a bed of Salade Frisée, bacon, and croutons"

    "poached egg on a bed of chive-butter-dressed leaves"

    "deep fried pork, onion, and poached egg on a bed of rice"

    "exquisitely poached eggs on a bed of sauteed spinach and mushrooms with thinly sliced toasted baguette"

    "poached eggs on a bed of spinach polenta with fresh lemon sauce"

    "poached egg on a bed of braised onions with white truffles"

    "poached eggs on a bed of lump crabmeat topped with brandy-infused béchamel sauce"

    "poached eggs on a bed of shredded trout"

    "poached eggs on a bed of artichokes, sunchokes, and cardoons smothered in Piemontese Fondue and white Alva truffles"

    "two poached eggs on a bed of homemade corned beef hash, smothered with hollandaise sauce"

    "poached eggs on a bed of sautéed spinach on toasted brioche with Mornay sauce"

    "smoked haddock and poached egg on a bed of orange leeks"

    "poached egg on a bed of arugula topped with smoked salmon and drizzled with a mustard sauce"

    "individual poached eggs on a goat cheese and potato frittata nestled in a bed of ratatouille"

    "fried poached eggs on a bed of lentils"

    "poached eggs on a bed of spinach with basil tomato hollandaise"

    "escalope of pork topped with a poached egg on a bed of onion marmalade with roasted tomato and apple"

    "poached egg on a bed of tomatoes, peas, chorizo, and tomato sauce"

    …and about 1,000 other possibilities.

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  • Crisis.

    We were awakened last night, again, by screaming in the street.  It's not that unusual and we've called 911 a dozen times or more since we moved into our South Minneapolis neighborhood seven years ago.  A woman was moaning and crying hysterically, unintelligibly.  I heard Mark get up and I mumbled something to him and rolled over, assuming he was going to get his phone.  A couple minutes later I woke up more fully and put on my glasses and went to the window to assess the screamer — domestic violence?  Ordinary drunken argument?  Prostitute solicitation gone from bad to worse?   

    A weeping, incoherent woman, hunched over, was running frantically back and forth in the street and another woman was standing by.  I thought it might be one of our new neighbors.  Flashing lights came from one direction, and suddenly the white van from next door came screeching up and parked on the wrong side of the street, too far from the curb, and a third woman got out in a hurry and ran over just as the cop arrived.  Meanwhile the fire engine from a block and a half away was pulling up.

    I made out a snatch of a wail: I SLAPPED HER BACK, I SLAPPED HER BACK, and I thought — a fight?  But then I saw that the weeping woman had transferred something to the arms of the police officer, not a something but a someone, a tiny someone, a girl about three years old, limp and lifeless, and the police officer turned and carried her (head hanging — ankles hanging –) and was met by a ponytailed woman from the fire engine, and they put the baby down on the hood of our car parked in front of our house.  Hands moved swiftly, a flashlight raised, poised, moved, poised, held up high, and under it hands moving, tearing paper, too nimble for me to see.  

    I slapped her back transformed instantly in meaning — "The baby choked," I breathed out loud, to Mark who had come up and put his arm around my shoulders cold and bare in the breeze from the open window.  The word seizure? with a question mark came up on that breeze, and I felt my own breath coming in quick pants and Mark squeezed my shoulder.  My hands came up and covered my mouth and I watched in horror — across the little girl's motionless body, the weeping woman stood in the street silently, her hands covering her own mouth.  

    I could not even pray or think of any words to pray.  A completely incoherent and wordless thought entered my mind that only happy endings are allowed to happen on the hood of that car, because that's our car.

    Suddenly the little band of people huddled around the hood of our car exploded outward, and the ponytailed woman in the FIRE tee shirt was carrying the girl up the street where an ambulance had arrived silently.  If I had to guess from the equipment the woman carried, I would say she had just managed to intubate the little girl; if I had to guess from the pace the woman walked, the urgency was over, but whether it was for better or for worse I could not say.  The ambulance stayed there, flooding the street with pulses of red light, but quietly, even as the police went back to their cruiser and two of the three women walked slowly back to the house next door, the house we used to live in.  I thought I heard one policeman laughing softly as he spoke to his partner before the door slammed.  I hoped beyond hope that this meant the prognosis was good.  

    The ambulance drove away and left me feeling like the world was a fragile and terrifying place.  I went down for a drink of water and paced the floor in the dark, thinking how often when things are going very well for us in our little home — and they have been going very well for us — it is hard to see how deeply vulnerable we all are while we walk this earth, the valley of the shadow.  It was a long time before I could sleep, to the steady rhythm of my daughter's breathing.

    UPDATE.  Mark managed to communicate with the neighbors well enough to find out that the child is apparently okay.

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  • Lunch lo mein.

    We made Cathie B's Crockpot "Bul Go Gi" yesterday for dinner.  Perfect since I was spending the day at Hannah's with the children helping clean house, and T. O. M. was spending the day at our house helping Mark touch up the paint on our first floor.  Put it together with some rice and greens and some more meat and vegetables from our friends, it made a nice potluck offering with very little work.

    Although I must say, after I had the sirloin tip roast sliced thinly and mixed up with the marinade, I had second thoughts about not putting that stuff on the grill, the end result was tasty.  See her recipe here — I altered it slightly, doubling the marinade, using 2 lb 14 oz meat, and marinating it overnight in the crockpot insert in the fridge before dropping it into the appliance in the morning.  I think we cooked it a little overlong, 9 h on low, but it was still good.

    We had about 3 cups of leftover meat and sauce, which I turned into lo mein this morning, my favorite use for leftover Asian-flavored meat.  I boiled a 13.25-oz box of whole wheat spaghetti, drained it, and then in the pot stir-fried some odds and ends of vegetables:  half an onion slivered, three carrots and a quarter cabbage put through my Cuisinart shredding blade, a chopped stalk of celery, and some cold cooked green beans.  Added the noodles to the mix, and then the cold meat and sauce plus a little water; covered the pot to heat it up, and then topped it with a drizzle of sesame oil and sesame seeds.

    I always make extra vegetables — the three big carrots and the cabbage was more than necessary for most of my family.  But not for me!  I pulled about a cup and a half of the stir-fried vegetables out before I added the noodles, and added them to mine to make my lunch a little heavier on the vegetables and a little lighter on the noodles.

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  • My failure-free habit constellation: Last post.

    I began this series because for once I wanted to write about what I've observed working well, rather than my theories about what might work well, during my maintenance. I've put on a couple of pounds and lost them again several times now, and I finally feel confident that I can adjust, and that I can keep making decisions to delay indulgences.

    Brief summary:

    I introduced the series here. By failure-free I mean that this set of habits lacks self-sabotaging emotional content , in particular that I've internalized that departing from my plan in one instance doesn't mean I am destined to depart from my plan in the future.  Then I described seven well-established features of my new way of eating, ways that I simply live now, which form the backdrop.

    In this final post, I'll list the habits that I have seen that I do take up when I see I need to re-establish my commitment to maintain my weight.  I tend to add them only one or two at a time, and in roughly the order they appear here.

    Habit 1.  I begin the day with my "signal breakfast."  I define a signal meal as a sit-down plate that's appealing but that's designed to make me feel like I'm starting off the day just perfectly, and that's returned to again and again when the same signal needs to be sent.  It sends a message to myself that I'm already sticking to a plan.  And since I normally make the decision to re-commit myself first thing in the morning (right after stepping on the scale!) beginning right away with a breakfast that always makes me feel successful is a key part of my habit constellation.  I'm on the right track immediately, and at the end of the day (no matter what else happens) I will have had at least one success.  

    Habit 2.  I move to eating on schedule.  Meals regularly spaced, and snacks at 10:30 a.m. and 3:30 p.m., with nothing in between.

    Habit 3.  I control the size of the two snacks.  My old standby: up to an ounce of cheese, up to an ounce of nuts, and up to an ounce of fruit.

    Habit 4.  No seconds:  fill the plate once, and I'm done.  This one almost always takes several days to get well established, but after a while I remember my strategies:  brew coffee before sitting down so I can have a cup right away, enjoy a stick of gum or a piece of dark chocolate while I clear the table, and leave the serving dishes in the kitchen.

    Habit 5.  Control the plate.  at least half of the plate covered by plain vegetables, up to a quarter of the plate with something starchy or with a dressed vegetable, and up to a quarter of the plate with the entree.  (This one's pretty easy to re-introduce because to me that's what a "normal" plate looks like.)  I usually allow extra room for salad since it's so fluffy.

    If I get all of the above going pretty well and it still seems like I need a bit of an extra "kick," I add two more intensive habits.

    Habit 6.  Measure sources of "extra" calories.  These are high-calorie things like salad dressing, cheese, milk for my tea, butter, and jam.  I use what I need to enjoy my food, and leave the extra off.

    Habit 7.  Cut drastically back on bread, most grains, and all sweets (except dark chocolate).   I'll allow myself one serving of bread or grains at each meal, but none at snacks, and I'll carefully measure them.  

    One thing that's interesting about these habits is the order they come in.  Although I never attempt it till last,  I'm convinced that Habit 7 is the most directly effective at taking pounds off of me.  I know that most of my "extra" eating is from breads and grains.  I'd probably have an easier time of it if I could establish Habit 7 right away instead of last!  But the truth is that it's harder than all those other habits, and I think it takes several days working on my other habits to get me into the frame of mind where I can easily tackle the bread/grain problem.

    Usually, though, by the time I get this far, the extra couple of pounds is already off.  I suppose if I ever need to drop double-digit weight again, I'll return to these habits plus perhaps a few more… maybe even counting calories again.  For now, though, the seven backdrop features and the seven failure-free habits seem to do the trick for me, again and again.

    That concludes the weight loss writing… for a while!

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  • Semi turns across bike lane, kills commuter cyclist in Minneapolis.

    Mark rides this route every day, so his co-workers kept sticking their head into his office all morning to make sure it wasn't him:

    On Wednesday morning, just as Dumm took off from the bike lane at the intersection of Park Avenue and E. 14th Street, a semitrailer driver began to make a wide left turn, crossing in front of Dumm and hitting and killing the 31-year-old cyclist.


    The driver of the truck will not be cited in connection with the accident, said Minneapolis police spokesman Sgt. Bill Palmer. 


    At first I was infuriated that the driver wasn't even cited, because he wasn't following the law — but then I wondered, how on earth could a semi driver who has to make wide left turns follow the relevant statute?

     (g) Whenever it is necessary for the driver of a motor vehicle to cross a bicycle lane adjacent to the driver's lane of travel to make a turn, the driver shall drive the motor vehicle into the bicycle lane prior to making the turn, and shall make the turn, yielding the right-of-way to any vehicles approaching so close thereto as to constitute an immediate hazard.

     

    Okay, it makes sense that the drive is supposed to pull into the bicycle lane before turning, as it avoids the hazard of bicyclists getting sideswiped, but if a semi did that then it'd be up on the sidewalk.  Not sure what the semi driver was supposed to do differently that wouldn't be at least as hazardous.  Witnesses seem to think the cyclist didn't break any rules of the road either.  Sad to say, sometimes the rules don't prevent all possible accidents.

    Different traffic markings might help though.  The city of Portland, for example, has special markings called "bike boxes"  that create a visual space for cyclists who would otherwise be crossing a turn lane.  Something like that might have prevented the problem.

    Let's hope this tragedy increases awareness of the dangers of biking alongside big trucks.  

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  • Perhaps the perfect hot dinner for Family Gym Night: Rice cooker technology.

    Thanks to Jen at Conversion Diary for pointing it out — one of those ideas that's so brilliant you wonder why you didn't think of it yourself.

    The boys' swimming lessons were so timed this spring that our family had to leave for the Y at 5:35 p.m. and arrive home a little bit after 8 p.m.  We've been eating dinner late rather than early.  After exercising, we're all really tired and really hungry — almost any kind of food will do as long as it can be shoveled into our maws immediately.  But then we all want to go to bed.  So:  very little mess is allowed too.

    I tried "making sandwiches."  It takes too long.  This kid wants mustard, that kid wants plain cheese, the other kid pouts if the sandwich isn't on toast, I like lettuce … Sandwiches are too personalized to be a quick dinner. 

    Soup in the crock-pot, served with crackers, would seem to work pretty well, but somehow it fell flat.  I think that's because the sorts of soups that do well in the crock-pot just aren't my family's favorites.  We like a rich bone broth simmered in the crock-pot for 48-72 hours, but then we like it made into soup where the individual vegetables are still apparent, like minestrone.  Noodle soups don't do too well in the CP either.  I mean, they're good *enough,* just not … perfect.  The other thing is that most slow-cooked things have to be put together much earlier in the day.  Sometimes that works out for me and sometimes it doesn't.

    Cold salads of pasta or grains and legumes, made ahead, may become a staple in the summertime.  I can think of two off the top of my head:  a lovely salad of pasta with tomatoes, tuna, mint, and capers, dressed with lemon and olive oil; and a salad of lentils with red peppers and red onions in a balsamic vinaigrette.  The whole family loves both of those.   As of now we are still enjoying hot food for dinner.  

    I have occasionally left things baking in the oven while we're gone, when the baking time matched the expected time of being gone — cabbage rolls once, that worked pretty well.  But the truth is that this makes me nervous.

    I'd forgotten about the rice cooker!

    OK, I'm not promising this is really a gourmet selection, but here's how I adapted Jen's recipe (scroll down) for super-easy rice and beans:

    Make brown rice in the rice cooker, ahead of time (so that it will be done at least a few minutes before I have to leave).   I used 1 and 1/2 cups of short-grain brown rice, and filled the rice cooker up to the "3 cups" mark (my rule of thumb, in the rice cooker, is to use double the water for brown rice that I would for white rice).

    When the rice cooker clicks over from "Rice Cooking" to "Keep Warm," dump in the following (don't bother to drain):

                  1 can of Black Beans With Cumin and Chile Spices
                  1 can of prepared kidney beans (mine contained both sugar and salt)
                  1 can of Muir Glen Fire Roasted Diced Tomatoes.  

     Stir it up and close up the rice cooker, leaving it on "Keep Warm," and go away for a couple of hours.

    Serve  in bowls topped with shredded cheese.

    Nobody is going to mistake this for gourmet cooking, believe me.  It's kind of bland; you could use two cans of spicy beans, or a spicier variety of beans.  But.  For a healthful, meatless dish you can come home to,  and  for "my kids gobbled it up and asked for seconds," it is very hard to beat.  Obviously there is room for personal variation in seasoning.

     The next day, the leftovers make a nice side dish, or my personal favorite use for rice pilaf type dishes:  for breakfast, topped with a fried egg.

    The rice cooker may be my go-to implement for Family Gym Night, because it cooks things quickly and then keeps them warm for a couple of hours.  Compared to the slow cooker, it just seems… much more… nimble! 

    What else could you make in the rice cooker that might work?  You'll be wanting to avoid meat that needs actual cooking.  We could certainly have porridge for dinner — steel cut oats with brown sugar and raisins.   I would think that you could make a vegetable curry with a bag of frozen vegetables and some curry powder… especially if you made coconut rice to start!  Hannah told me of a recipe she used to make in college, involving rice, peas, onion, and tuna; I'm not sure the kids would like it, but it certainly sounded workable.

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  • The backdrop: My failure-free habit constellation, part four.

    It's time now for two posts about the habit constellation and its background.  Background first.

    The habits that make up my failure-free constellation are visible as things I have to do deliberately against a backdrop of habits I barely notice anymore.  Maybe some of these are your backdrop too.  Maybe some could be.  Maybe some would be part of your habit constellation.  Anyway, all of the following are my backdrop now.   

    Feature 1.  I drink mostly water, black coffee, and black tea.  I think of caloric beverages as "food" and am used to making allowances for them.  Milk in my tea means I've had a snack.  I think of an evening beer as part of my dinner, and automatically adjust my intake.

    Feature 2.  I buy, prepare and eat abnormally large portions of vegetables.  It's not unusual for me to eat a salad the size of the Kitchen-Aid mixer bowl, or 3/4 of a pound of brussels sprouts, as part of one meal.  I'm used to the bulk of my meals being vegetables:  50–75%.  The easiest way to add them, I am still convinced, is to buy frozen bags of vegetables and serve them simply steamed, perhaps with a bit of butter or soy sauce or something.  Whatever you were going to make anyway, then add one bag of frozen vegetables.  I know it's kind of boring, but it cuts down on the work.

    Feature 3.  I use small plates at home.   8 1/2" dinner plates at most meals.  

    Feature 4.  I am habitually wary of sugar, "white" carbohydrates, and even overlarge portions of whole grains.  I know I tend to eat too much of these things once I get started, and I have established a habit of saving these indulgences for things I really enjoy eating.  I have them, but I guess you could say I'm always sort of careful about them.

    Feature 5.  We buy only a very limited selection of prepared snack food.  We stick to the old standards and rarely try new ones.   One brand of tortilla chips, one brand of crackers, one brand of granola bars.  Nothing coated with flavored powder of any kind is in our house.  

    Feature 6.  I keep a healthful, macronutrient-balanced snack in my car at all times.  It never seems necessary to buy food when I'm out.  (I didn't say it never seems tempting, just that it never seems necessary.)  Probably several different things could have fit the bill; I went with the most convenient choice for me, a jar of almonds.

    Feature 7.  I step on the scale every morning.

    My point here:  These are the things I stick to every single day, without any effort.  I'd be lying if I told you I control my weight by regularly avoiding seconds, or not eating snacks, or measuring stuff, on a daily basis.  (And while it's true that I don't buy junk food, if you GAVE me a bag of Chee-tos I'd probably eat it.)

     Mostly I eat what I want, when I want, particularly if my weight has not been creeping up.  But these seven habits have stuck with me, are part of my daily routine, and (I think) set me apart from the average person and from my former self.  

    As I've said before, though, when I need to drop a couple of pounds, I have to add more habits, ones that aren't second nature and that I don't prefer to use ALL the time.   Those are in another post:  part five.

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  • Local Hmong cooking.

    One of the things that sets the Twin Cities apart is its large population of Hmong; there are many thousands living in Minnesota, and our metro area has one of the highest concentrations in the U. S. 

    Not to reduce a culture entirely to its cuisine — I don't know about you, but I don't feel that I understand people nearly as well if I don't know much about what they eat.  :-)  There are not, as far as I know, a plethora of Hmong restaurants around!  So I was glad to see this article in the local food blog Heavy Table about the Hmong home kitchen.  

    In a building at the back [of the International Market Place in St. Paul], vendors sell produce such as greens, herbs, lemongrass, lychees, and longans, year-round. This time of year, the outdoor produce vendors sell seedlings for Hmong herbs. “Hmong people do a lot of gardening,” says Kasouaher. “It’s ingrained to grow your own stuff. Use what you can, then give the rest to family.”


     Sweeping her hand over orderly rows of potted seedlings, $2 each, Hang says, ‘These are all chicken herbs,” referring to a recipe that I’d inquired about, “Fresh Chicken with Hmong Herbs (Soup for New Mothers)” in Scripter and Yang’s “Cooking from the Heart.” According to the book, “Hmong custom dictates that, for one month after a baby is born, a mother’s diet consist of only this chicken soup, freshly cooked rice, and the warm water drained from the second soaking of rice (kua ntxhai) or clear, warm water.” Kasouaher says that in Laos it could be a big sacrifice for a family to feed a new mother the chicken soup for a month. “It’s a great sign of respect for her daughter-in-law, for a mother-in-law to make the chicken soup for her,” she says. “It is a time for a husband to show how he cares for his wife by making the chicken soup, often reserving for her the best parts of the chicken.”


    Says Hang, “You don’t have to have a child to have the chicken.” You can eat the soup anytime. (We’ll include the “Fresh Chicken with Hmong Herbs (Soup for New Mothers)” recipe in Friday’s review of “Cooking from the Heart”).


    In the cookbook, the authors describe how many chicken herbs, which can’t be found in the typical American grocery store, ”originated from seeds and starts carefully brought to the United States from Laos in the handbags and pockets of Hmong women striving to preserve their healthy cooking traditions.”

    Some cool pictures at the link, including some gorgeous food photos.  Apparently there is a new cookbook out, to be reviewed at HT on Friday.

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  • Veiled.

    "The Mom" at Shoved To Them finds a box of her grandmother's lace mantillas and decides to try them out.

    I decided to wear one on Easter in honor of my grandmother, and offered one to my eldest. My sweet #1 readily accepted. She is no stranger to veiling, having a close friend who attends the Latin Mass regularly. She veils on those occasions when she sleeps over at their house, and to her it is simply a facet of Catholicism.

    Easter morning I stood in my pew with this triangle of lace draped over my head and worried that I looked ridiculous. Then it slipped off of my head. I replaced it and bowed my head in an effort to keep it in place, not looking at the pews across the way, but at the empty space in front of my shoes. It was a posture of complete humility and was foreign and uncomfortable. The lacy sides draped enough in my peripheral vision that I couldn't see any further down the pew than my own husband and children. It became, for me, my family alone with God. All that I was responsible for was all that I could see.


    Read the whole thing.

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  • Why unplanned eating doesn’t mean failure anymore: My habit constellation, part three.

    (Parts one and two)

    I spent the weekend with Kim (in IA) and her husband and children, and did most of the cooking since they are busy enjoying a brand new baby.   We arrived with Ohio-style sloppy joes and fruit salad; there was the coconut French toast  with Polish sausage; we had beef short ribs in a barbecue sauce, served over slow-cooked polenta, served with a simple green salad, and Never Fail Gingerbread.  I put chicken cacciatore in their crockpot before I left.

    With all that comfort food — and I know very well how to make comfort food that I like! — I ate a lot.  Even though I began the weekend still working on dropping a couple of pounds.  Which spurred some more reflection on my "failure-free" weight control plan.  Can it really be failure free?  If so, what about this weekend?  I didn't stick to my plan — isn't that a "failure?"

    It's instructive to compare my intentions now with my intentions in the past.  Over the years I've been moderately successful as a low-carb eater.   I'm still convinced that low-carb is a workable weight loss strategy for many people.  Of course, "low-carb" covers a wide range, from mild restriction of refined carbs and emphasis on whole grains, all the way to strict ketosis-inducing diets of under 20 grams carbohydrate per day.  I spent a lot of time inducing ketosis, not without success.

    But ketosis-inducing diets have one peculiarity that work on a special kind of craziness.  Simplified greatly, ketogenic diets — more than any other I know of — only work if they are adhered to meticulously.  It takes a few weeks of perfect very-low-carb eating to flip the biochemical switch to "burn body fat" mode.  It takes only a single meal or snack to flip it back to "conserve body fat" mode.

    In other words, several days of hard work can be undone in a single snack.  A slice of bread or two will knock you out of ketosis, and it might take you days or weeks to trudge back in.

    This messes with your head, if you're a certain sort of person.  You're focused on failure.  Episodes of unplanned eating, or even just nibbles, loom in importance; days and days of careful success fade into the background.  And then there's the recovering-bulimic thing.  You just ate something that will ruin the whole last week's effort!   Let's just say it creates a difficult-to-resist temptation to purge.

    This unforgiving nature of ketogenic diets makes them really ill-suited for some of us, including me (because of the recovering bulimic thing) and probably people who are inclined to depression and despair in general, as well as people with poor impulse control.   It's really easy to despair when every string of successes is followed by a failure which you believe (scientifically!) eclipses all the successes that came before.

    But that's in my past.  No more ketogenic diets.

    So having eaten a lot over the weekend, I was struck by how much I don't feel like a failure, and how intellectually certain I am that I haven't "failed."  I'm not glowing with success either — I'm in no denial, I know that I didn't eat the way I planned.  But it's not a step BACK.  More like I took a break for a couple of days, and I'll pick up where I left off.

    This thought helps me distinguish a little better what I mean by "failure" and why I say that I lose weight (when I need to) "failure free" now.  I don't mean I never eat food I planned not to eat:  unplanned eating happens.  What's the difference? 

    I think it's this:  I no longer believe that unplanned eating in the present or past has any power over my future behavior.   I never live in failure's shadow.

    Next post:  The backdrop.

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  • Coconut milk experiment.

    I'm off for the weekend, visiting some friends.  Their 5-year-old is my godson.  We always have a good time over here.

    That same 5yo is allergic to dairy.  And I had promised to make breakfast!  And I don't like soy milk.  😛

    So I brought along a couple of cans of coconut milk, and some coconut oil, and substituted it for milk and butter respectively to make French toast.

    Report:  French toast made with coconut milk and fried in coconut oil = very yummy.

    Especially when topped with blackberry preserves and fresh blackberries.  Not that the maple syrup was bad, but the blackberries were fabulous with it. 

    The texture was very creamy and, I don't know, fluffy.  I recommend it.

    (Batter = 1 cup coconut milk, 2 eggs, 1 Tbsp sugar, dash salt, 1/2 tsp vanilla.  I used store bought bread, Brownberry Health Nut, which contains nuts but no dairy.)

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  • Found an old photo.

    It didn't scan too well, but you get the drift.  This was taken by my MIL on a visit to our house, probably (to judge from the baby's size) in the fall of 2006.

    Photo 87

    I'm starting to get to the point where the person in those photos no longer feels like … "me."

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