The good and the bad of my week . . .
1. Diet=bad. So far, anyway. I know, I know, they say it takes “at least two weeks and more like three” to tell a difference, and I haven’t given up yet. But I’ve made it through ten whole days without cheating once (except for 2 teaspoons of salad dressing) and I feel pretty much lousy. For one thing, I can’t get warm. I wonder if this kind of diet is for people who have extra weight. I was already in the normal weight range (although I didn’t mind the thought of losing a little around the tummy and thighs) so maybe this wasn’t a good idea for me. I’m afraid I may have slowed my metabolism way down (meaning I’ll start gaining like crazy if and when I go back). Also, I’ve so far noticed no decrease in my original symptoms. I guess I’ll know more in the next week. Sum up: discouragement.
2. Dental visit=bad. I went to the dentist for the first time in a year and had a cavity. The dentist, a new one, put in the shot to numb me and I had a horrible reaction. After he got done injecting, I felt this horrible blood rush and nausea, with my heart pounding hard. He says there is epinephrin in the shot and maybe I was just sensitive to that. I’ve had dental injections (too many times) before and never had anything like that. I wanted to die. I’m wondering if it was because of this diet--? Maybe I was just in a weaker state than usual? I asked if that epinephrine was new, since it has been a few years since my last injection, but he says it’s the same stuff as always. Anyway, it was awful.
4. New Year’s Resolution=bad. I am frustrated with myself for not remembering, moment to moment, to be more positive with my kids. I am way too critical and stressed all the time. I am trying to use the atonement here—it’s a hard thing to break such an ingrained habit, and it’s extra hard when I feel so dang hungry and sickish all the time. But my years with them are numbered and I DON’T WANT THEM TO REMEMBER ME LIKE THIS. Pray for me, will you? This is hard.
5. Light=good! The days are getting longer! It has been so dramatic and heartening for me to notice the light that comes earlier in the day. I never, never take that for granted. Spring really will come . . .
6. Poetry=good. I’ve had two weeks of my poetry class so far and am really enjoying it. My teacher said my first poem was “really good!” and noticed lots of what I was doing in it. She’s pushing me (the sign of a good teacher, since she has so many different abilities in the class), and that’s what I need. Part of the reason I do these classes (besides the deadlines and assignments that get me going) is to learn how to TEACH a poetry workshop. One student brought in an entirely inaccessible poem of the ultra-modern variety (where sense is sacrificed to sound) and I watched to see how the teacher would critique it (how DO you critique something like that, which makes no sense?)—and here’s what she did: turned it over to the class. “Do you have any questions for her? Write them down. Anything you particularly like?” Hmmm. Cop out, but it worked . . .
7. Lunch with Kristi=good. It's so hard for me to go out to lunch with friends when I can't eat. Imagine eating at Olive Garden and not being able to have carbs! Not even the soup! But it was still worth it. I love Kristi and her view on life. She is an amazingly gifted writer—but she is so much more than that, and she’s making some hard choices that are good for her about how to live life as a mother, artist, and teacher. I always feel better about life in general after I spend time with her. I’m lucky to know her.
8. 18 years=fantastic. Yesterday was my 18th anniversary. I am such a satisfied customer. It’s hard (and you who are happily married know) to put into words how I feel about someone who is basically just a part of me now, but let me just say that I think he is a better catch than ever these days, and I feel sort of embarrassed about my good fortune, as if I’d won the lottery.
9. Noteworthy=very, very good! As you’ve noticed, if you’ve read this blog before, my family and I are passionate fans of BYU’s Noteworthy (female a cappella). On a whim, and thinking, “What have I got to lose?” I wrote to them and asked if there was any chance in the world they would like to sing at our trek kick-off fireside next week.
AND. THEY. SAID. YES.
I could hardly keep from peeing my pants. (Did I really just use the word pee on my blog? Did that move the rating to PG-13?) I am so utterly thrilled. What was just a trek fireside is now a WOW. It feels like a little hug from God, is what it feels like. I am so dang thrilled. The fireside is next week, and I’ll be glad to get it behind us so that we can settle down to the real work of planning. This trek thing just might come to pass. Maybe.
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Food
Well, I’m dieting again. This time—for the first time, really—I’m not doing it to lose weight. I am doing it for health.
In the last few months many ideas have come my way about what could be the cause of my illness and possible ways to live with it (or even fix it). From two different, unassociated people in my life came suggestions for supplements that have had obvious and undeniably miraculous benefits for acquaintances. From others, from doctors, and from my own research have come suggestions for radically altering my diet.
The problem has been that most of them contradict each other. For example, one doctor insists I have gastroparesis (although another thinks I don’t). For that, I actually DECREASE the amount of fiber I eat. Someone else thinks it might be a yeast/ph problem. For that, I change my diet to be mostly fruits and vegetables and low or no dairy and meat. A blood test says I have blood sugar issues, and the handbook I got tells me I can go on an extremely restrictive diet for two weeks that is designed to tell me whether I am hypoglycemic. It, however, is heavy on dairy and protein (at least compared to the ph/yeast book).
Yikes! What to do?
Well, I decided to start with one of the supplements, because I had seen the, again, obvious and undeniable results someone near to me got from it. (So incredible, in fact, that Roger has become a dealer for the stuff.) All these people were having miracles because of this stuff—and I really, truly believe them. So why not me?
But . . . not me.
So, then I thought, “Well the only thing we know for sure, because labs have shown it, is that there is a blood sugar issue of some kind.” So I’ve decided to do the incredibly restrictive hypoglycemia diet. It goes for two weeks, and then I can begin adding things back in. To give you an idea of what restrictive means, here is what I can eat:
fowl, fish, meats: all types except lunch meats, hot dogs or anything with fillers--but no breading OR sauces of any kind
eggs
cheese
veggies: ONLY asparagus, green and wax beans, green peppers, raw mung bean sprouts, beet greens, broccoli, cauliflower, mushroom, tomatoes, celery, cucumbers, lettuce, onions, radishes, spinach, watercress. (No carrots, for example.)
fruits: NONE
desserts: NONE
fats and oils: butter, vegetable oil
bread, bread products, crackers, CEREAL: NONE
beverages: water, broth
plain yogurt.
THAT’S IT. No flour or grain products of any kind.
I had a hard time deciding to do this, because it so obviously contradicts the Word of Wisdom. It sounds too much like the Atkins diet (which I think is evil). But I prayed about it, and felt OK about it since it’s temporary. The point is to sort of re-set the system, see how you feel with basically no sugar, eliminate any sugar addiction, then gradually add back in quality grains, paying attention to how your body (particularly blood sugar) reacts. I can do hard—if it’s temporary.
So. I’ve made it through three days so far. And last night was really, really hard because we went to the Elder’s Quorum social, where these amazing-looking subs were set out, with chips and GUACAMOLE and gooey brownies and all sorts of goodies were set out. Roger said, “The sandwiches weren’t that good,” which amazed me because I realized how often we fill ourselves with carbs that aren’t all that tasty just because they’re there. There was literally NOTHING there that I could eat—except maybe the lettuce and tomato on the sandwiches, but I was worried it would be wet with mayo.
Already I’ve noticed how psychologically addicted I am to carbs. When I feel empty inside, I find myself fantasizing about a big bowl of cheerios, for example. But I eat my cheese and cucumbers and feel fine again. It’s a mind game—I think I NEED oatmeal in the morning, but am surprised to find I do fine with the eggs.
The book says it takes a while to feel the benefits. I really hope that’s true, because I’ve had no improvement yet.
If nothing else, it is a demonstration of faith, I suppose. I can truly say I’ve tried everything.
Oh, and yes, as a side benefit, I have lost weight. 5 pounds already. (Of course, it’ll all come back when I add back in the grains, right?)
In the last few months many ideas have come my way about what could be the cause of my illness and possible ways to live with it (or even fix it). From two different, unassociated people in my life came suggestions for supplements that have had obvious and undeniably miraculous benefits for acquaintances. From others, from doctors, and from my own research have come suggestions for radically altering my diet.
The problem has been that most of them contradict each other. For example, one doctor insists I have gastroparesis (although another thinks I don’t). For that, I actually DECREASE the amount of fiber I eat. Someone else thinks it might be a yeast/ph problem. For that, I change my diet to be mostly fruits and vegetables and low or no dairy and meat. A blood test says I have blood sugar issues, and the handbook I got tells me I can go on an extremely restrictive diet for two weeks that is designed to tell me whether I am hypoglycemic. It, however, is heavy on dairy and protein (at least compared to the ph/yeast book).
Yikes! What to do?
Well, I decided to start with one of the supplements, because I had seen the, again, obvious and undeniable results someone near to me got from it. (So incredible, in fact, that Roger has become a dealer for the stuff.) All these people were having miracles because of this stuff—and I really, truly believe them. So why not me?
But . . . not me.
So, then I thought, “Well the only thing we know for sure, because labs have shown it, is that there is a blood sugar issue of some kind.” So I’ve decided to do the incredibly restrictive hypoglycemia diet. It goes for two weeks, and then I can begin adding things back in. To give you an idea of what restrictive means, here is what I can eat:
fowl, fish, meats: all types except lunch meats, hot dogs or anything with fillers--but no breading OR sauces of any kind
eggs
cheese
veggies: ONLY asparagus, green and wax beans, green peppers, raw mung bean sprouts, beet greens, broccoli, cauliflower, mushroom, tomatoes, celery, cucumbers, lettuce, onions, radishes, spinach, watercress. (No carrots, for example.)
fruits: NONE
desserts: NONE
fats and oils: butter, vegetable oil
bread, bread products, crackers, CEREAL: NONE
beverages: water, broth
plain yogurt.
THAT’S IT. No flour or grain products of any kind.
I had a hard time deciding to do this, because it so obviously contradicts the Word of Wisdom. It sounds too much like the Atkins diet (which I think is evil). But I prayed about it, and felt OK about it since it’s temporary. The point is to sort of re-set the system, see how you feel with basically no sugar, eliminate any sugar addiction, then gradually add back in quality grains, paying attention to how your body (particularly blood sugar) reacts. I can do hard—if it’s temporary.
So. I’ve made it through three days so far. And last night was really, really hard because we went to the Elder’s Quorum social, where these amazing-looking subs were set out, with chips and GUACAMOLE and gooey brownies and all sorts of goodies were set out. Roger said, “The sandwiches weren’t that good,” which amazed me because I realized how often we fill ourselves with carbs that aren’t all that tasty just because they’re there. There was literally NOTHING there that I could eat—except maybe the lettuce and tomato on the sandwiches, but I was worried it would be wet with mayo.
Already I’ve noticed how psychologically addicted I am to carbs. When I feel empty inside, I find myself fantasizing about a big bowl of cheerios, for example. But I eat my cheese and cucumbers and feel fine again. It’s a mind game—I think I NEED oatmeal in the morning, but am surprised to find I do fine with the eggs.
The book says it takes a while to feel the benefits. I really hope that’s true, because I’ve had no improvement yet.
If nothing else, it is a demonstration of faith, I suppose. I can truly say I’ve tried everything.
Oh, and yes, as a side benefit, I have lost weight. 5 pounds already. (Of course, it’ll all come back when I add back in the grains, right?)
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Kathy's Cake
Sometimes you make a friend and you say, "We should get together with our husbands," or "We should get our kids together." And then you try it and things just don't work out. The kids don't hit it off. The husbands don't hit it off. The kids hit it off too well and they are so hyper you don't want to do it again.
It's pretty rare that hubby and I find families that we both like that click well with our kids. I don't know why that is--are we especially difficult people to get along with? Maybe. It makes it harder because lots of the friends I make are writer people and R, although extremely supportive of my writing and of my socializing with them, and very cheerful about hanging with them, doesn't always see them as the most enjoyable social partners for him. So he'll go along willingly, but I know he's being a trooper, and I long for a different scene in which he is as eager as I and enjoying himself as much.
So--lucky us, we hit paydirt last night. Turns out my writer-friend Melinda happens to be married to a guy who went to Roger's same mission! Ka-ching! Also, they have the sweetest, out-reaching kids that my kids really, really liked. All this, and they have a family bluegrass band (I love bluegrass!) and they performed for us last night. (What a cool thing for my boys to see--kids having fun playing instruments!) Anyway, here's hoping that Melinda's family liked us at least a little bit . . .
The star of the evening, though, was Kathy's Cinnamon Bundt Cake recipe. I got this from Kathy C., a childhood friend of mine who also happens to be married to a guy my husband really likes and enjoys. So I guess it was appropriate refreshments for our evening last night. Here's the recipe:
1 yellow cake mix
1 small pkg vanilla pudding mix
3/4 c. veg. oil
3/4 c. water
4 eggs
2 t. vanilla
Cinnamon/sugar mixture for filling (sugar mixed with cinnamon to taste)
Mix cake and pudding mixes dry. Add oil and water, mix well. Add eggs one at a time, mixing after each. Add vanilla. Beat high 6-8 minutes (I never last that long--which explains why my rolls never turn out, eh, Melinda?).
Grease bundt pan. Then, instead of flouring it, coat with cinnamon/sugar mixture. Pour in 1/3 batter, then sprinkle liberally with cinn/sugar. Repeat twice.
Bake 40 minutes at 350. (I like it a tiny bit on the raw side.) Cool 8 minutes and remove from pan.
It's pretty rare that hubby and I find families that we both like that click well with our kids. I don't know why that is--are we especially difficult people to get along with? Maybe. It makes it harder because lots of the friends I make are writer people and R, although extremely supportive of my writing and of my socializing with them, and very cheerful about hanging with them, doesn't always see them as the most enjoyable social partners for him. So he'll go along willingly, but I know he's being a trooper, and I long for a different scene in which he is as eager as I and enjoying himself as much.
So--lucky us, we hit paydirt last night. Turns out my writer-friend Melinda happens to be married to a guy who went to Roger's same mission! Ka-ching! Also, they have the sweetest, out-reaching kids that my kids really, really liked. All this, and they have a family bluegrass band (I love bluegrass!) and they performed for us last night. (What a cool thing for my boys to see--kids having fun playing instruments!) Anyway, here's hoping that Melinda's family liked us at least a little bit . . .
The star of the evening, though, was Kathy's Cinnamon Bundt Cake recipe. I got this from Kathy C., a childhood friend of mine who also happens to be married to a guy my husband really likes and enjoys. So I guess it was appropriate refreshments for our evening last night. Here's the recipe:
1 yellow cake mix
1 small pkg vanilla pudding mix
3/4 c. veg. oil
3/4 c. water
4 eggs
2 t. vanilla
Cinnamon/sugar mixture for filling (sugar mixed with cinnamon to taste)
Mix cake and pudding mixes dry. Add oil and water, mix well. Add eggs one at a time, mixing after each. Add vanilla. Beat high 6-8 minutes (I never last that long--which explains why my rolls never turn out, eh, Melinda?).
Grease bundt pan. Then, instead of flouring it, coat with cinnamon/sugar mixture. Pour in 1/3 batter, then sprinkle liberally with cinn/sugar. Repeat twice.
Bake 40 minutes at 350. (I like it a tiny bit on the raw side.) Cool 8 minutes and remove from pan.
Friday, February 22, 2008
What I didn't write
I have a confession to make (brace yourself): I am a lousy cook.
It’s hard to admit this. Because I love food. I love thinking about food. I even love thinking about cooking food. I love to read recipes, food blogs, cookbooks. I fantasize about cooking.
But when it comes to actually doing it, I don’t really like to. And I’m terrible at it.
It’s tough for me, because I’d really like to think of myself as a good cook. Once, when we invited some friends over for dinner (which I had made carefully from other people’s recipes), they looked at the table and smiled and said, “I’m so glad you have a pepper grinder. We just knew you guys were the types to be good cooks.”
I just smiled. Because that pepper grinder was a wedding present. Actually, I don’t care for pepper. But I really, really liked this couple, and I really, really liked them thinking I was a good cook.
So I guess I’m the type of person that SHOULD be a good cook. Can that be good enough? Can you just try to think of me as “Darlene who could probably be a good cook, had she been born with the talent?”
And all this applies to the other thing I would like to think of myself as (but I’m not). And that is the author of Angela Hallstrom’s book, Bound on Earth. Now, Angela is my friend and knows that I mean her no malice. She also knows that I don’t mean to imply that I could or should have been the author, particularly IN HER PLACE. I don’t mean that at all. I’m truly, truly ecstatic for her. I’m just saying that I’d really like to be thought as someone who could have produced that book.
Because--well, obviously it’s because it’s a darn good book. Also because she and I could be twins in the kinds of stories we like, the kinds of situations we find interesting to write about. And also because the kind of people who are going to like her book are just the kind of people I want to like ME. I want them to think I’m the type of person who could have produced it.
And don’t even get me started on gardening. Alas to be poetess and actually have no interest in gardening. Sigh.
(Something about this reminds me of Lady Catherine in Pride and Prejudice, who declares something like, “I know I would have been a great pianist if I had taken the time to practice.”)
So. Well.
Anyway, if you don’t mind, please go on thinking of me as a good cook, a good and fascinating writer, and a tasteful and clever gardener. Oh—throw in interior decorator, too. I wouldn’t mind that.
However, I have no interest in being a scrapbooker. You can just skip right over me in your thoughts when it comes to that.
And after all this, I guess I won’t be able to convince you to come to dinner anytime soon, right? Well, come enjoy the hot tub, anyway. I do love to talk. That one I don’t have to fake.
It’s hard to admit this. Because I love food. I love thinking about food. I even love thinking about cooking food. I love to read recipes, food blogs, cookbooks. I fantasize about cooking.
But when it comes to actually doing it, I don’t really like to. And I’m terrible at it.
It’s tough for me, because I’d really like to think of myself as a good cook. Once, when we invited some friends over for dinner (which I had made carefully from other people’s recipes), they looked at the table and smiled and said, “I’m so glad you have a pepper grinder. We just knew you guys were the types to be good cooks.”
I just smiled. Because that pepper grinder was a wedding present. Actually, I don’t care for pepper. But I really, really liked this couple, and I really, really liked them thinking I was a good cook.
So I guess I’m the type of person that SHOULD be a good cook. Can that be good enough? Can you just try to think of me as “Darlene who could probably be a good cook, had she been born with the talent?”
And all this applies to the other thing I would like to think of myself as (but I’m not). And that is the author of Angela Hallstrom’s book, Bound on Earth. Now, Angela is my friend and knows that I mean her no malice. She also knows that I don’t mean to imply that I could or should have been the author, particularly IN HER PLACE. I don’t mean that at all. I’m truly, truly ecstatic for her. I’m just saying that I’d really like to be thought as someone who could have produced that book.
Because--well, obviously it’s because it’s a darn good book. Also because she and I could be twins in the kinds of stories we like, the kinds of situations we find interesting to write about. And also because the kind of people who are going to like her book are just the kind of people I want to like ME. I want them to think I’m the type of person who could have produced it.
And don’t even get me started on gardening. Alas to be poetess and actually have no interest in gardening. Sigh.
(Something about this reminds me of Lady Catherine in Pride and Prejudice, who declares something like, “I know I would have been a great pianist if I had taken the time to practice.”)
So. Well.
Anyway, if you don’t mind, please go on thinking of me as a good cook, a good and fascinating writer, and a tasteful and clever gardener. Oh—throw in interior decorator, too. I wouldn’t mind that.
However, I have no interest in being a scrapbooker. You can just skip right over me in your thoughts when it comes to that.
And after all this, I guess I won’t be able to convince you to come to dinner anytime soon, right? Well, come enjoy the hot tub, anyway. I do love to talk. That one I don’t have to fake.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
It breathes me.
A saying in yoga about how to imagine breath entering you from the universe: “It breathes me.” You are to picture the universe breathing you, instead of the other way around. Try it—it’s amazing.
Anyway, I feel the same way about fall: it breathes me.
Something about it makes me more open to moments of delight. Fall was breathing me while I watched 4-year-old dance to his new favorite tape. Which happens to be “I Wiggle My Torso” by Janeen Brady. Anyone else grow up on Brite music? I remember being so resentful of the evenings my mom spent away from home because she was selling Brite music in home parties like Tupperware. But I’d say all those nights without her were worth it for me to have the joy of watching this kid with his fuzzy headed buzz-cut “wiggling his torso” to the beat. ("I clap my hands; I stomp my feet; I wiggle my torso and then I repeat. My hands, my feet, my torso once more--jump up, turn 'round, then fall on the floor.")
And I ate heavenly homemade carrot soup for lunch. And homemade salsa with my chips. (Just some other examples of fall breathing me.)
Here’s the recipe:
Carrot Chowder
Brown 1 lb. hamburger. (I was thinking today that this could probably work really well with black beans instead of meat.) Drain fat, then add:
½ t. salt
½ t. garlic salt
½ t. pepper
1/3 c. chopped celery
½ c. diced green peppers
1/3 c. chopped onion.
Cover and simmer on low until veggies are tender (10 min.). Meanwhile, combine in a large saucepan and bring to a boil:
1 ½ c. water
4 c. tomato juice
2 cans cream of celery soup
2 ½ c. grated carrots
1/8 t. marjoram
1 t. sugar.
After it comes to a boil, add the meat mixture and simmer for 30 minutes. Serve with grated swiss cheese on top.
Tastes like fall in a bowl. Tastes like heaven.
Anyway, I feel the same way about fall: it breathes me.
Something about it makes me more open to moments of delight. Fall was breathing me while I watched 4-year-old dance to his new favorite tape. Which happens to be “I Wiggle My Torso” by Janeen Brady. Anyone else grow up on Brite music? I remember being so resentful of the evenings my mom spent away from home because she was selling Brite music in home parties like Tupperware. But I’d say all those nights without her were worth it for me to have the joy of watching this kid with his fuzzy headed buzz-cut “wiggling his torso” to the beat. ("I clap my hands; I stomp my feet; I wiggle my torso and then I repeat. My hands, my feet, my torso once more--jump up, turn 'round, then fall on the floor.")
And I ate heavenly homemade carrot soup for lunch. And homemade salsa with my chips. (Just some other examples of fall breathing me.)
Here’s the recipe:
Carrot Chowder
Brown 1 lb. hamburger. (I was thinking today that this could probably work really well with black beans instead of meat.) Drain fat, then add:
½ t. salt
½ t. garlic salt
½ t. pepper
1/3 c. chopped celery
½ c. diced green peppers
1/3 c. chopped onion.
Cover and simmer on low until veggies are tender (10 min.). Meanwhile, combine in a large saucepan and bring to a boil:
1 ½ c. water
4 c. tomato juice
2 cans cream of celery soup
2 ½ c. grated carrots
1/8 t. marjoram
1 t. sugar.
After it comes to a boil, add the meat mixture and simmer for 30 minutes. Serve with grated swiss cheese on top.
Tastes like fall in a bowl. Tastes like heaven.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
I never thought I’d be saying this . . .
. . . but I have a confession to make: I have made the leap. I no longer prefer milk chocolate to dark chocolate. I guess I’m a grown-up now.
(It was those Truffettes de France that did it.)
(It was those Truffettes de France that did it.)
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Autumn Time
I love fall. I adore fall. I wish fall were six months longer. I love the light, which is different somehow and I can’t figure out why. It must be slanting from a different angle. Or maybe it’s that, with the cooler weather, the light seems less yellow because it is not burning me up. It’s wider, fatter somehow. I love the leaves changing and the feeling of going back to school (wish I were). My husband, the eternal boy of summer, doesn’t share my love of fall. To him, it feels like impending doom. He never loved school, but always loved baseball season, so I guess his feelings are understandable. I won’t start feeling the impending doom feeling until after Christmas. Then I head into my three-month tunnel of gloom. But NOT THIS YEAR because I will be on a cruise in February! Yeah! And I hope to buy a sunlamp sometime as well.
But, anyway, back to fall. As I mentioned earlier, my garden runneth over and I just have to tell you about this fabulous lunch I had last week. I made homemade tomato soup (and the recipe is below). And then I made a grilled cheese sandwich with feta and parmesan and cheddar on sourdough bread. We are talking HEAVEN here, my friends. And if you’ll come over and visit me, I’ll make the same for you.
But, anyway, back to fall. As I mentioned earlier, my garden runneth over and I just have to tell you about this fabulous lunch I had last week. I made homemade tomato soup (and the recipe is below). And then I made a grilled cheese sandwich with feta and parmesan and cheddar on sourdough bread. We are talking HEAVEN here, my friends. And if you’ll come over and visit me, I’ll make the same for you.
Basil Tomato Soup ala Darlene
A whole bunch of fresh garden tomatoes pureed in your food processor
1 can chicken broth
15 fresh basil leaves, minced (thanks to my step-mother for planting basil in my garden!)
1 t. sugar
1 t. oregano
Onion pwdr to taste (or throw in some dehydrated onions)
A whole bunch of fresh garden tomatoes pureed in your food processor
1 can chicken broth
15 fresh basil leaves, minced (thanks to my step-mother for planting basil in my garden!)
1 t. sugar
1 t. oregano
Onion pwdr to taste (or throw in some dehydrated onions)
½ c. sour cream
½ c. half & half (which we always have on hand since it’s what my 6-yr-old DRINKS)
½ c. butter (yes, alas, a whole cube)
Bring tomatoes and broth to a boil, reduce heat and simmer for 10 minutes. Add basil and sugar and spices. Turn heat to low; stir in creams and butter. Cook until butter is melted.
½ c. half & half (which we always have on hand since it’s what my 6-yr-old DRINKS)
½ c. butter (yes, alas, a whole cube)
Bring tomatoes and broth to a boil, reduce heat and simmer for 10 minutes. Add basil and sugar and spices. Turn heat to low; stir in creams and butter. Cook until butter is melted.
Friday, July 27, 2007
By request . . .
Sharlee's Triple Chocolate Pudding Cake recipe:
1 pkg. Devil’s Food or Swiss Chocolate cake mix
1 pkg. instant chocolate pudding mix
1 cup vegetable oil
4 eggs
½ cup hot water
1 cup sour cream
2 teaspoons vanilla (Darlene's top secret modification: 1 t. vanilla and 1/2 t. almond flavoring)
1 pkg Hershey’s mini-Kisses (Sharlee says, "It has to be mini-Kisses; regular ole’ chocolate chips just won’t do." I've made it with chocolate chips and it was still yummy. But the mini Kisses are divine.)
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour 10-inch bundt pan. Combine cake mix, pudding, oil, eggs, water, sour cream, and vanilla. Beat until smooth. Stir in mini-Kisses. Pour batter into bundt pan. Bake 1 hour. Allow to cool before turning out onto plate. Dust with powdered sugar, if desired.
Let me tell you, my friends, this cake is to die for. If you bring it, you are always welcome at my house. (Well, you are anyway. But I'm just saying.) And by the way, the very best way to eat this cake is along with something salty (like popcorn) in the company of really cool women (like Segullah chics).
1 pkg. Devil’s Food or Swiss Chocolate cake mix
1 pkg. instant chocolate pudding mix
1 cup vegetable oil
4 eggs
½ cup hot water
1 cup sour cream
2 teaspoons vanilla (Darlene's top secret modification: 1 t. vanilla and 1/2 t. almond flavoring)
1 pkg Hershey’s mini-Kisses (Sharlee says, "It has to be mini-Kisses; regular ole’ chocolate chips just won’t do." I've made it with chocolate chips and it was still yummy. But the mini Kisses are divine.)
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour 10-inch bundt pan. Combine cake mix, pudding, oil, eggs, water, sour cream, and vanilla. Beat until smooth. Stir in mini-Kisses. Pour batter into bundt pan. Bake 1 hour. Allow to cool before turning out onto plate. Dust with powdered sugar, if desired.
Let me tell you, my friends, this cake is to die for. If you bring it, you are always welcome at my house. (Well, you are anyway. But I'm just saying.) And by the way, the very best way to eat this cake is along with something salty (like popcorn) in the company of really cool women (like Segullah chics).
Friday, December 15, 2006
More Favorite Things: Food
My father is an amazing cook. Besides being able to create delicious concoctions and make all my old favorites perfectly every time, he has two very special additional talents in the kitchen:
1.) He can make delicious meals when there is no food in the house. Really. You'll think there is nothing in your refrigerator worth eating and he will disappear into the kitchen and come out with entire meals that start your mouth watering with just the sight of them. ("Because, if it doesn't look good, it doesn't taste good!"= his famous saying.)
2.) He has this uncanny ability to nourish you emotionally while feeding you physically. I have vibrant memories of the times, particularly when I was a teenager, when I would come home, world-weary and depressed, and mope around the house, not feeling like eating because "nothing sounds good." He would disappear into the kitchen and then place before me food—a french dip sandwich, maybe, or terriyaki stir fry—something that somehow absolutely hit the spot. After eating, I always felt the world looked a lot better and much more worth living in.
Thanks, Dad!
Wish I had inherited his talent. Far, far from it, I'm afraid. But now that we're on the subject of food, let's share a few favorites.
1. Salads:
Olive Garden, with breadsticks.
Anita's Chinese chicken salad.
Jennilyn's Cafe Rio salad.
Allison's frito salad.
Bacon-spinach salad with poppy seed dressing and fresh parmesan.
2. Drinks:
Water is always my favorite. But here are a few others I love:
Mark Newman's homemade egg nog.
Marjorie's firecracker punch.
Steamed milk with a shot of hazlenut flavoring (I miss you, Berkeley).
Olive Garden's chocolate-almond ice cream drink (Chocolate Amore).
3. Breads:
Olive Garden's breadsticks, but only when they're VERY fresh.
Dipping bread at Johnny Carrino's.
Honey-wheat from Great Harvest or Winder Dairy.
My mother's homemade french bread.
Rhode's white rolls.
4. Desserts:
I could never list them all, but I have to mention Sharlee's chocolate cake, which I discovered this year. Heaven!
5. Cafe Rio:
(Of course it deserves its own category!)
Pinto bean and rice burrito, smothered enchilada-style with their green sauce.
I think I'd better stop there. It's lunch time and I'm starving.
What are some of your favorites?
1.) He can make delicious meals when there is no food in the house. Really. You'll think there is nothing in your refrigerator worth eating and he will disappear into the kitchen and come out with entire meals that start your mouth watering with just the sight of them. ("Because, if it doesn't look good, it doesn't taste good!"= his famous saying.)
2.) He has this uncanny ability to nourish you emotionally while feeding you physically. I have vibrant memories of the times, particularly when I was a teenager, when I would come home, world-weary and depressed, and mope around the house, not feeling like eating because "nothing sounds good." He would disappear into the kitchen and then place before me food—a french dip sandwich, maybe, or terriyaki stir fry—something that somehow absolutely hit the spot. After eating, I always felt the world looked a lot better and much more worth living in.
Thanks, Dad!
Wish I had inherited his talent. Far, far from it, I'm afraid. But now that we're on the subject of food, let's share a few favorites.
1. Salads:
Olive Garden, with breadsticks.
Anita's Chinese chicken salad.
Jennilyn's Cafe Rio salad.
Allison's frito salad.
Bacon-spinach salad with poppy seed dressing and fresh parmesan.
2. Drinks:
Water is always my favorite. But here are a few others I love:
Mark Newman's homemade egg nog.
Marjorie's firecracker punch.
Steamed milk with a shot of hazlenut flavoring (I miss you, Berkeley).
Olive Garden's chocolate-almond ice cream drink (Chocolate Amore).
3. Breads:
Olive Garden's breadsticks, but only when they're VERY fresh.
Dipping bread at Johnny Carrino's.
Honey-wheat from Great Harvest or Winder Dairy.
My mother's homemade french bread.
Rhode's white rolls.
4. Desserts:
I could never list them all, but I have to mention Sharlee's chocolate cake, which I discovered this year. Heaven!
5. Cafe Rio:
(Of course it deserves its own category!)
Pinto bean and rice burrito, smothered enchilada-style with their green sauce.
I think I'd better stop there. It's lunch time and I'm starving.
What are some of your favorites?
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