You guys! I’m like, speechless. I knew you were awesome, but wow. I didn’t expect such an outpouring of support and hugs and well wishes and rather mindblowing compliments. I’ve been reading them over and over – I was up until 1am last night, with my laptop propped on my lap, reading rather than typing. Thankyouthankyouthankyou. Each message a treat – and far better than a chocolate. And I say that as someone who hasn’t eaten chocolate for a full two and a half days.
(I did steal some Lindt 70% cocoa chocolate with sea salt from my Dad’s stash on the weekend. Divine. No, I’m not giving up chocolate. We just need to learn to be pals. And as with anything else that’s not entirely good for me, the less I get, the less I want. When it comes to things like dark chocolate, it’s the quantity that tends to be a problem…)
I want to ditch everything and just hang out here. I want to curl up and write a big long letter back to each of you. But I have to go teach a class in Red Deer tonight, which means shopping for and setting up for it, which means I won’t be here for dinner and likely not home until midnight. (She says sheepishly to those who think I take on too much… teaching classes I think will be the first to go. I’m practicing saying no. Maybe I’ll get a T-shirt.)
So I’ll leave you with some breakfast – a recipe I had seen eons ago but hadn’t yet made. I love oats in the morning, but it’s becoming clear that I have to lay off the homemade granola – while nutrient-dense, it’s also a little too calorie-dense, particularly in the quantities I’ve been consuming with (plain) yogurt. Just another shake of granola, just another spoonful of yogurt… it’s all good for me, right?
Tony and Penny own Highwood Crossing, out by Aldersyde. They grow oats and wheat and flax and are just incredibly awesome people. An enormous bag of their organic old-fashioned oats sits in our basement, and I refill a big glass jar once in awhile to keep up in the kitchen. W loves oatmeal – he’d have it for breakfast, lunch and dinner if he could. This morning alongside his plain oatmeal with raisins, I tried Penny and Tony’s recipe for oats simmered with chai spices. Brilliant. If you don’t have coriander, cardamom and turmeric, typical spices in a chai blend (chai refers to a blend of spices, like curry) I imagine simmering a chai tea bag (or any tea you like, for that matter) in the milk to infuse it before adding the oats would work as well.
Chai Oatmeal
From Highwood Crossing, with thanks.
1 1/2 cups milk
1/4 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp ground coriander
1/4 tsp cardamom
1/4 tsp ground turmeric
pinch salt
2 tsp honey
1/8 tsp vanilla
3/4 cup Highwood Crossing Rolled Oats
2 Tbsp. oat bran
Pour the milk into a medium sized saucepan. Add the spices and salt, and whisk to blend them into the milk. Place the pan over medium heat. Just before the milk comes to a boil, lower the heat, and let the milk simmer, about 5 minutes. Stir in the vanilla and honey, and whisk until the honey dissolves.
Sprinkle in the oats and oat bran, and stir once or twice. Cover the pan, and leave it over low heat for about eight minutes, stirring occasionally. When the oatmeal has thickened to your liking, serve it hot, with a topping of chopped dried fruit or nuts.
Serves 2.
May 03 2011 | breakfast | 31 Comments »
It’s 4:20 on Sunday morning. As is the case as many nights as not, W’s stirring snapped me awake, and my mind slipped quickly into a frenzy of worry. This time, it was triggered by the realization that it’s May. May!
The birds are starting to sing already, out there in the dark. I realize for most, this is a good thing.
Even as a kid, the arrival of spring triggered a feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. As soon as it began to warm up enough that you could roll the windows down in the car, I knew summer was coming, and bringing bathing suits with it. And strappy sandals, and shorts and tank tops I could never wear. The anticipation of summer vacation was trumped by the fear that I couldn’t get away with sweaters and oversized jackets for much longer.
(Sorry, no recipe today. Besides that roasted beet salad, I haven’t managed to make dinner once this week. I did make a banana bread yesterday, but you know that one already.)
This winter has been long, and although we did get tired of the snow and brown and went seeking something green and growing (and the beach, above) in Tofino in March, I have also been secretly relieved by it. The arrival of summer has been like another deadline in my mind, a big one that I haven’t been completely on top of, and unlike the others I can’t expect to scramble and catch up on the night before. I have been going to the gym – yes – but it’s not enough to turn this ship around. (Aside: I feel like one of the hippos from Fantasia doing the Maniac! scene from Flashdance.)
There has been stuff, of course – health stuff and family stuff and scary (especially in the middle of the night) stuff, and to be honest I’ve been a bit down, and not spending enough time with friends, and isn’t it about time for a midlife crisis? And through it all the hungry part of me has had ample opportunity to convince the rest that I shouldn’t worry so much about my weight when so many are going through far worse. That I should just get over myself and be happy with what and who I am.
Except that I’m not, really. I’m tired and awkward and uncomfortable. And there’s always stuff, isn’t there? There will always be stuff, and there will always be food, and it’s called life.
A few weeks ago I met someone who knew me only from here and the radio, and when she asked if I was Julie, and I said yes, she gave me the long slow up and down. And said – “So. That’s you, huh?”
It just made me flush, alone in the dark on my laptop, to type that. Even though I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it. And I crumbled into this apology for having surely let her down. Yes, this is me. Sorry. I know. I’m working on it.
Gah.
I know some (most?) of you are here for the food. As much as anything, I worry that this place could wind up overrun with rants, diminishing the food and laughs. And it shouldn’t be one or the other, really. I have a solution, I think. I’ll be up front about the food stuff, and if you want to read more about all this, I’ll add it after the jump (below, where it says continue reading. Also, this will act as a bit of a buffer, filtering all this personal stuff only to those who are actually interested. I have been procrastinating putting it out there. No takesies backsies once you hit publish, you know.)
And tomorrow, I’m making dinner.
continue reading »
May 02 2011 | leftovers | 146 Comments »
