Love the Lentils

Green Lentils

 

Favorite Middle Eastern Lentils

 

8 ounces of green lentils

½ white onion, minced

3 whole carrots, chopped

2 cloves garlic

1 tsp. cumin (and more to taste)

2 tsp. salt (and more to taste)

1 tbsp. pepper (and more to taste)

Plain yogurt

 

Rinse lentils, then add to large pot. Cover lentils with water and turn heat to high.  Add carrots, onion and garlic to pot. Then add cumin, salt and pepper. Once the water boils, turn down the heat to simmer. Simmer for 30 minutes or until the lentils and carrots are tender, stirring occasionally. Add more salt, pepper and cumin to taste.

 

If the lentils are not soft after 30 minutes, add more water and let it cook until soft.

 

Serve with yogurt.

 

 

We’ve stopped buying any kind of crunchy, salty snacks, also known as “cupboard crack” because neither of us has the self control to not eat an entire bag while watching Brian Williams. We also completely avoid the entire aisle that has sugary snacks at the store, to avoid being tempted by nutter butters and oatmeal pies. The lentil recipe above has become a staple in our weekly meal plan.

 

After eating healthier, avoiding going out to eat and really sticking to our eating plan, we’ve both been mocked on a daily basis by our bathroom scale. It literally taunts me by showing my goal weight, then showing an error, and once I step off and get back on, shows my actual weight. It’s quite bad for my mental health. I step on, my eyes light up as I see my goal, then my hopes are crashed as the evil little machine forged in the depths of hell laughs in my face and “Erroor”’s out on me.

 

It also doesn’t help when the person across from my desk at work brings in some kind of unhealthy food twice a week. Friday, it was a giant barrel full of cheese balls. Today, it was a Tupperware full of red velvet cupcakes. Normally, I don’t have a problem ignoring treats at work. But when you’ve got a trail of people popping over every half hour, talking about how good they are, and how they “Just need one more!” while licking cream cheese frosting off their fingers, it becomes a bit much to handle.

How do I combat this, you ask? Unhealthy amounts of sugar free mints. I’m quite confident I’m ingesting the same level of mints they used to test on monkeys who then starting having seizures. 

 

But I didn’t eat a cupcake. Mission accomplished.

The Office

For anyone who has ever watched "The Office" and laughed at the seemingly ridiculous scenarios, I would have to say that the office I work in could compete. With a wide range of characters and never ending ridiculousness, just sitting at my desk can turn into an entertaining episode on a daily basis.

Just yesterday, pink, red and white roses beautifully arranged in a vase were delivered to my manager. I've never seen flowers delivered to a man in a public place before, but it was everything I'd imagined. His flaring nostrils doubled in their circumference, his face turned red, and he quickly put the flowers under his desk on the floor and almost completely out of sight. He then opened the card and found an anonymous note, with some kind of message, which he wouldn't share with us.

To a woman, this would've been a wonderful treat. Gorgeous flowers to proudly display on her desk, enjoying every time someone would ask, "Who are those from?" and "What's the occasion?" with thinly veiled jealously.

But to a man, it was like being, well, sent flowers. At work. In front of a lot of people. I had to chuckle to myself as the story spread around the office, with everyone speculating who sent them, why the note was anonymous, blah, blah, blah.

As the afternoon went on, I walked by my manager's office on my way to the break room and noticed a ProFlowers box on the floor. Then, like a flashback in a movie, I remembered I had seen the woman in the next desk over from me looking at that web site yesterday, trying to hide her unlawful internet browsing with her empty potato ole's container and Big Gulp of Mountain Dew. But I was on to her now.

A few hours later, I see the secret flower sender carrying the flowers to her desk saying in a huff, "Well, if he doesn't want to put them on his desk, then I'll put them on mine." The ladies around her laughed, but I sat in my grey swivel chair with a knowing smile on my face.

Well, being that you're the one that bought them, I can see how you'd be wanting to see your $50 flower arrangement.

Then, she sat and turned to me and said, "Gosh. I wonder who would send those to him." 

"Yeah, me too..." I paused for emphasis. "And I wonder why someone would send those. It's kind of...weird."

She looked off into the distance and said, "Yeah, sure is."

Green Juice Goodness

Green Juice

1 Head Romaine Lettuce, washed

1 Lemon, peeled

4 Green apples, halved

Place in juicer, then add juice to glass with ice. Drink! The lemon gives it a bit of tartness, the apples give it sweetness and the lettuce makes it taste very fresh. Delicioso!

After last weekend, when I baked a huge pan of homemade cinnamon rolls and then proceeded to eat all of them with only the help of my husband (see "Cinnamon This" at right and my soon-to-be-written autobiography, titled: "I'm Married So I'm Letting It All Go"), we decided to become health freaks. So I broke out the juicer from the pantry, and we hit the store to buy four heads of Romaine lettuce, a big bag of green apples and a bag of lemons.

For someone who once wouldn't eat anything other than beef and potatoes covered in a layer of ketchup, my husband has come a long way. He now guzzles green juice and can't get enough of it. Sure, I had to coax him into drinking it the first time a few years ago (and who can blame him - the color resembles liquid that could be leaking out of a garbage bag on the curb, after all), but after one sip, he was hooked. He describes it as looking like it should be something leaking out of a car, but he still finishes his glass every time.

Now making the juice does require a decent amount of clean up afterwards. Cleaning out the machine usually accounts for my using it a few times, then putting it in the pantry until I forget how long it takes to clean it again (usually a few months). I'm hoping to do better this time - because it really doesn't take that long. Like 15 minutes. Apparently I have a short attention span.

Next green recipe to make: Banana and Romaine Lettuce Smoothie...

Cinnamon This

Homemade Tastiness

I haven't done much baking in my life. In fact, I can probably count on one hand how many homemade cakes or breads I've made. I wholly blame this on the discovery of magic refrigerated tubes full of biscuits, rolls and cookies. I got used to the speed and ease of unwrapping the goods, jumping from the "pop" (I know it's coming, but it gets me every time) and being done with the whole thing in twenty minutes flat. Easy schmeasy.

I decided to rebel against my addiction to convenience foods this weekend, and pulled out one of my fancy, hardcover cookbooks to work on my skills. After flipping through recipe after recipe trying to find a good starter recipe, I found the below recipe for cinnamon rolls. With only a few ingredients and not too difficult instructions, it looked like something I could handle. I was off to buy some yeast. 

After my quick trip to the store, I was ready to start cooking. The first few steps of the process weren't too difficult: mix, mix, mix. Check. Measure some milk into a measuring cup. Check. Mop up milk leaking out of said measuring cup, which apparently had no less than six holes in it. Check. Nothing hard earned is ever easy. I pressed on. 

The next step was to knead the dough. There's a first for everything! I plopped the dough onto the counter and began to push, then fold, then punch, then smash, then fold, until my husband sauntered up to the counter next to me.

He watched for a few seconds, then said, "Um, I'm not so sure you're doing that right."

"Yeah. I know." I've never been a perfectionist, and I don't intend to start now. Knead schmead.

After a few more minutes of assaulting the dough, I put it in a bowl. The book said to put it in a warm place in the house to rise, so where did I put it? In the bathroom. But don't worry, I made sure to tell the hubby that the bathroom was off limits due to bread baking. He fully understood.

An hour and a half later, I grabbed the bowl of dough out of the bathroom, and continued on with the rest of the recipe. Not being one to want to read too far ahead, I was just about ready to put it in the oven, when I realized it had to rise again. Sheesh!! This takes forever!! That's when I began to make threats. "This better be good!! This takes all freakin' day!!"

Finally, it was done rising for the second time, and I popped it in the oven. Thirty more minutes later, and I was pouring vanilla glaze all over the rolls while simultaneously batting my husband's fingers away from the pan. 

I took one big stab into a warm cinnamon roll with my fork and understood why it took me so long to make them. Pure perfection: gooey, sweet but not too sweet, and made from scratch. 

And I'll be sure to keep that in mind if I ever have time to devote a full day to making baked goods again. Takes. For-ev-er.

Homemade Cinnamon Rolls

Ingredients:

3 1/2 cups of all-purpose flour plus more for kneading and dusting

1/3 cup of sugar

2 packets of active dry yeast

1 tsp of salt

1 cup of milk

1/2 stick of butter, partially melted

1 egg

baking spray

For the filling:

2 tbs soft butter

1/2 cup of sugar

2 tsps of cinnamon

For the glaze:

2 cups of powdered sugar

2-4 tbs hot water

1 1/2 tsp vanilla

1/3 cup butter

Mix the flour, sugar, yeast and salt in a bowl. Heat the milk to very warm (120-130 degrees Fahrenheit). Add the milk, butter and egg and mix in the dry ingredients. Beat with a handheld mixer on low for a minute, scrape the sides and beat for another minute on medium speed. 

Place the dough on a floured surface and knead by hand for 5 minutes. Grease a large bowl with baking spray, add the dough and roll the dough around to cover all sides, then cover the bowl loosely with plastic wrap. Let rise for 1-1/2 hours.

In a small bowl, mix the 1/2 cup sugar and the cinnamon.

Take the dough and add it to a floured surface. Roll out the dough into a 15" x 10" rectangle. Spread the softened butter over the top, then sprinkle the cinnamon sugar over it evenly.

Roll the dough sideways into one long tube. Using a floured serrated knife, cut into 15 slices about 1 inch each.

Place the rolls into a 13 x 9 inch baking dish, leaving a little space between each. Then let it rise for another 30 minutes.

Preheat oven to 350. Bake cinnamon rolls for 30-35 minutes.

To make the glaze, melt the butter in a saucepan. Remove from the heat and stir in the powdered sugar and vanilla. Slowly add the hot water one tablespoon at a time until the frosting resembles thick syrup (2 tablespoons worked perfectly for me). Drizzle the glaze over the top. 

The Salon Show

The Hair - Thank You Stylist

In need of a hair color refresh, I trekked over to the hair salon this morning. After years of going to sub-par stylists, most of whom had two or three shades of purple in their scarily lopsided hairstyles, I finally found "the one" a few years ago. I only go to see her four or five times a year, but each time I go, the experience always proves to be entertaining.

The salon is modern looking, with tile floors and large black and white photos of models with sleekly styled hair on the walls. And though I can always count on my hairstylist to make my hair look great, I never know what to expect from the other clientele.

While sitting in the black swivel chair while my stylist slicked gobs of gooey brownish glop into my hair, I could hear a lady to my left chatting away on her cell. She was an average height and average looking middle-aged lady wearing a leopard top under her black cape, and she was sitting with her head under the half-globe dryer. 

Speaking loud enough for the entire salon to hear her, she said something like, "Mom, I will put a chip in you so I can find you! Yes, one of those little chips they put in dogs. You heard me!" My stylist and I made eye contact in the mirror and started to chuckle, trying to hold it under control, just in case the lady decided to check her peripheral vision. Judging from her conversation and her leopard top, I had a feeling she could release a whole lot of crazy if she wanted to. Best to stay under the radar. 

She went on, "I refuse to put you into an old folks' home!! I don't care if you don't want to live with me!!" 

At this point, the conversation must've taken another turn because she said, "He hates you because he loves you."

This conversation went on for another ten minutes. 

After she hung up the call, I decided to change the channel and focus in on the lady sitting across the aisle from me. A mid-thirties homely looking woman was getting her hair trimmed and blown out by a male stylist, who is fabulously gay. I noticed her smiling quite a bit at him, laughing and tossing her hair. She seemed to be enjoying her hair cut a bit too much. I couldn't help but ask my stylist for the details. 

This lady had been trying to seduce her gay stylist for the past few years, coming in every six weeks and making veiled references to men's "packages" and talking up her favorite hobby, roller skating. Not surprisingly, my stylist said, she wasn't getting very far in her seduction.

After a wash, trim and blow out, I put on my coat to head out the door. I couldn't help but smile to myself. 

There's a reason there are never televisions in salons. The show is always playing in house. 

Alaska: The Last Frontier

While flipping through the endless channels of cable the other night, my husband and I stumbled upon a fascinating show. Called "Alaska: The Last Frontier," it follows a family who lives on a homestead in Alaska, living off the land and doing crazy amounts of hard labor.

From chopping wood for two weeks straight to have enough for their wood-burning stoves to growing their own food in massive gardens, these people work their tails off. They had canned fruits and vegetables like mad, filling their cellars to the brim for the winter, and their freezers were packed with fresh salmon they had caught themselves.

I was instantly fascinated. I buy bagged lettuce for the sole reason that I don't have to wash it or chop it up, and here they are, growing and catching their food to survive the winter. And the closest I come to catching my own food is chasing after a rogue yogurt as it rolls across the floor in the grocery store. In both cases, though, I think the sense of accomplishment and victory is the same.

Now I have had a green thumb from time to time. Two years ago I bought a small clay pot and planted few little starter tomato plants in it. Was the pot ten times too small? Maybe. Did I only get about three cherry-sized tomatoes off of them? Yes. But those three tomatoes were delicious.  The overall cost of each tomato was about $5. But that's the price you pay for organic food.

I learned an important lesson after watching this show. There are two types of people in this world: those who throw away a pair of shoes because they stepped in some doodie and those who do not. 

Let's just say I need a new pair of shoes.

The Pilates Goddess

 

After a short hiatus from doing any physical activity at all (six or seven months, give or take-- I'm fuzzy on the particulars), I thought it was time to hop back on the fitness horse. My inactive lifestyle has come to rival the stars of the "Half Ton Woman" show on the OWN Network.  Add sixteen hot dogs and nine Big Macs a day to my diet, and I'm there. Time to make a change.

I did quite a few Pilates work outs during the pre-wedding prep period, so I figured I'd find a short video on Youtube today to put an end to the incessant laziness. 

The first Youtube Pilates video I could find is hosted by a gorgeous, blonde Australian woman. The first thing she says is, "I'm a Pilates instructor, fitness model and journalist."

Oh, really? Is that all?

I rolled out my blue Pilates mat, brushed off her intentional gloating, and got ready for the work out. Titled the "15 minutes Beach Body Pilates work out," I figured, 15 minutes? Phsaw, noooo problem.

About half way through the video, she starts doing what I have renamed "The Devil's Leg Stabber." I think she called it a dip or something....unimportant. This move consists of having your feet a little wider than shoulder width apart and then slowly bending your knees until your thigh muscles twitch with uncontrollable pain. Repeat. A million times. Then fall on the floor and watch her do way more than you can do. Then repeat again.

Needless to say, I made it to minute ten of fifteen then laid on the floor and watched the rest of the video. Breathless beach views. And it looked like some kid and his mom were playing on the beach. Quite peaceful. If Yappy McToned Legs would've shut her trap for a second, I might've been able to hear the water. The mute button was my only option.  

Soon enough the video ended and I stretched out on the mat, satisfied with my ten minutes of semi-effort in completing the moves halfheartedly. It felt good.

Now time for that glass of wine.

 

The Holiday Butterfest

 

After a wonderful holiday full of various cheeses, dips, crackers and breads, I’m feeling pretty chubby. Granted, after getting into great shape for our wedding and honeymoon in June, even the tiniest square of “carb-age”  (as my husband calls it) goes straight to the tummy region. In the midst of the pre-wedding glory days, we were going for daily walks outside, eating tons of protein, turning our noses up at the chips and crackers at the store, cutting way back on our Chinese food runs and barely drinking any alcohol. Knowing we were going to have rows of people staring at us from behind for a large chunk of time really helped with the motivation.  Wedding dresses with corsets are meant to squish, but there’s only so much magic they can do!

 

Now is quite another story. Our pantry consists of two food groups: snacks and dips to go with snacks. Our fridge, too, is long from the days of being full of hard-boiled eggs, baby carrots and thawing salmon. It’s now full of various beige colored casseroles, all of which the main ingredients are either a stick of butter and multiple cups of cheddar cheese or whip cream and Jello. You get the idea. But it’s the holidays, right? It wouldn’t be Christmas without the gritty feeling of sugar and butter constantly on the back of your front teeth.

 

But the holidays only come but once a year. And now it’s time to get back on track! Target luckily had frozen bags of salmon on sale yesterday, so my husband and I filled up the cart. We grabbed two bags, then after a lap around the grocery aisles, went back for more, because “They’re so cheap! We should get a couple more bags! Grab 2!"

 

We ended up buying 6 bags of salmon and 2 of tilapia (also on sale). We figured, we’ll just eat fish until we’re healthy again. It just makes sense! Then, when we get sick of it (which we inevitably will – since we now have 35 fish filets in our freezer) , we just will keep some in the freezer and wait to eat it again until we’re not sick of it anymore. Brilliant! Fool proof!

 

So far, we've eaten one meal of the salmon we bought. We sprinkled it with McCormick salmon rub, squeezed some lemon juice over it, topped it with salt and pepper, then baked it for about 15 minutes in the oven. It was delicious. 

 

And I think I'm good on salmon for a while. What else do we have to eat?!