I like to cook.
There are a lot of weeks that I try to create and stick to a meal plan, but sticking to it really never happens. I want to be a woman who creates a plan, a matching grocery list, and saves money and time that way, but I'm just not yet. (Maybe my new job will encourage me in that pursuit!) So we end up with a lot of creative dishes. This is fun and sometimes a disaster.
Because of my penchant for throwing things together, I like to critique my dishes. This allows me to look to cook better by doing. I actually like this approach, for the most part.
Last Monday, Tim and I threw together a basic pasta, marinara, chicken, and cheese dish. Afterwards, I had a hard time deciphering what I just did not like about the dish. Until I realized it was the chicken. Not the way it was cooked, cut, or seasoned. Just the fact that it was chicken. I think I tend to like meat a whole lot less when I am PMSing. Whoops.
So, on Tuesday, I ate no meat. On Wednesday, I ate no meat. I have actually not had meat for over a week now, and I feel pretty good. I'm enjoying putting together creative and balanced meat-free meals. And now I'm thinking about where I'm going to take this. Because I do ordinarily like meat and I'm not thinking about never eating it again. I don't really see a need to make a list of rules for myself or write myself a label.
But. I'm having a hard time justifying eating a whole lot of meat when I know there are a whole lot of people in this world who are starving because they are hungry. And United States cows, chickens, and pigs are eating up a whole lot of corn and other grains that could be used to feed people. This is not the first time this idea has occurred to me, but my excuse is that there are so many issues that I would like to pay attention to that I often forget some of them.
Also. I made a special trip to the grocery store after work today because I was craving tacos. I also picked up a few things for my lunches. It wasn't that I needed them. I wanted them. Which got me thinking. So. I'm going to see how many days I can go eating food that I already have at home, no trips to the grocery store. And then from there, I hope to becoming the meal-planning lady. And same some money. And send that money to World Vision.
It could get interesting.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Friday, March 13, 2009
My New Love
My latest food obsession is coconut. I've been craving it a lot.
So when I discovered the existence of coconut butter today, I was ecstatic. Thrilled.
And I've decided that for my birthday (which is not coming up soon, so I may just grant myself an early birthday present...to myself), I'm buying a jar of it. And some coconut cream pie Lara bars. YUM.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Just Like the Movies
It was just like the movies.
I spent the evening laughing a lot, talking with women who speak broken English.
Afterwards, I carried the coffee pot to the kitchen, doled out a dime for a sought-after snack, stopped to talk with a boy who promises he will be over soon to eat dinner. Then I sat down to watch my husband coach his basketball team.
Now let me just pause my story (yes, even in the introduction!) to say that I really, really enjoy watching Tim coach his team. It is such a refreshing contrast to the berating, frustrated, win-first behavior I have observed in a lot of coaches (and even parents). Tim loves the guys on his team, and it shows. He teaches (and expects) them to play well, but esteems them as individuals and as players. Just like great coaches in the movies.
After the game, the entry way was bustling with people. I brought out a tray of cookies, and they were gone in less than one minute. There were lots of smiles, high fives. A shiny red car full of kids pulled up as I headed outside. Lots of laughing, lots of smiling.
I left feeling elated, refreshed, stuffed with love, and in awe of how far I've traveled, and how far they've traveled in 6 months.
Last September, I made my debut at the community center. I manned the snack bar. I set up and tore down. I smiled a lot. I played with the little kids who wandered in, and I cautiously tip-toed up to personal hedges and announced my presense. I was uncomfortable most of the time; I would liken the feeling to a lesser degree of the culture shock I experienced when dropped in a foreign country for several months.
But I just wanted to get to know the kids there. I'm not really sure why, except for the fact that most of them didn't seem to have many (or any) people in their lives that just wanted to love and know them. This is a particular soft spot for me, so I kept going. Week after week. And after a month or two, I recognized that the kids didn't understand that I was genuinely interested in them because I only showed up during my scheduled time.
So I started showing up on Thursday nights. Tuesday nights. I brought in special treats, watched them play basketball, asked questions, and cooked some food. I don't know when or how it happened, but one day, I got a hug. Then I was asked how I was doing. Then I got a high five. And then those kids who I had been trying so hard to understand and know wormed their way into my heart. I don't know when it happened, but tonight, when I was hanging out at the community center, with those kids that I love, I felt like I was home.
I have always seen myself as a "girls' girl." When I am at youth group, I spend most of my time with the girls. I am drawn to them. I understand much of what they are going through. When I am at church, I spend most of my time with the women. I like to catch up on their lives, ask what they need, visit them. I love people, but I am usually on the women's side of things. That is where I'm most comfortable. That is where my heart is.
Most of the kids at the community center are boys. I don't easily gravitate toward them. I don't easily understand them. But they've pushed out the sides of my heart and made more room. And when I am with them, I am at home.
I spent the evening laughing a lot, talking with women who speak broken English.
Afterwards, I carried the coffee pot to the kitchen, doled out a dime for a sought-after snack, stopped to talk with a boy who promises he will be over soon to eat dinner. Then I sat down to watch my husband coach his basketball team.
Now let me just pause my story (yes, even in the introduction!) to say that I really, really enjoy watching Tim coach his team. It is such a refreshing contrast to the berating, frustrated, win-first behavior I have observed in a lot of coaches (and even parents). Tim loves the guys on his team, and it shows. He teaches (and expects) them to play well, but esteems them as individuals and as players. Just like great coaches in the movies.
After the game, the entry way was bustling with people. I brought out a tray of cookies, and they were gone in less than one minute. There were lots of smiles, high fives. A shiny red car full of kids pulled up as I headed outside. Lots of laughing, lots of smiling.
I left feeling elated, refreshed, stuffed with love, and in awe of how far I've traveled, and how far they've traveled in 6 months.
Last September, I made my debut at the community center. I manned the snack bar. I set up and tore down. I smiled a lot. I played with the little kids who wandered in, and I cautiously tip-toed up to personal hedges and announced my presense. I was uncomfortable most of the time; I would liken the feeling to a lesser degree of the culture shock I experienced when dropped in a foreign country for several months.
But I just wanted to get to know the kids there. I'm not really sure why, except for the fact that most of them didn't seem to have many (or any) people in their lives that just wanted to love and know them. This is a particular soft spot for me, so I kept going. Week after week. And after a month or two, I recognized that the kids didn't understand that I was genuinely interested in them because I only showed up during my scheduled time.
So I started showing up on Thursday nights. Tuesday nights. I brought in special treats, watched them play basketball, asked questions, and cooked some food. I don't know when or how it happened, but one day, I got a hug. Then I was asked how I was doing. Then I got a high five. And then those kids who I had been trying so hard to understand and know wormed their way into my heart. I don't know when it happened, but tonight, when I was hanging out at the community center, with those kids that I love, I felt like I was home.
I have always seen myself as a "girls' girl." When I am at youth group, I spend most of my time with the girls. I am drawn to them. I understand much of what they are going through. When I am at church, I spend most of my time with the women. I like to catch up on their lives, ask what they need, visit them. I love people, but I am usually on the women's side of things. That is where I'm most comfortable. That is where my heart is.
Most of the kids at the community center are boys. I don't easily gravitate toward them. I don't easily understand them. But they've pushed out the sides of my heart and made more room. And when I am with them, I am at home.
Monday, March 2, 2009
I love ice cream.
If given the choice, I will go for frozen yogurt, because I'm not a big fan of milk and I could use the calcium. But it's really all about the smooth, creamy texture, the sweet taste, and preferably, the chunks of brownie, cookie, cookie dough, or peanut butter.
I also am a big believer in the idea that any other dessert can be made better by the simple addition of ice cream. Pie and ice cream. Cake and ice cream. Brownie and ice cream. Cookie and ice cream. De-licious.
Sometimes I feel guilty about my affinity for ice cream and try to feed the craving something a little healthier instead. Which is noble, really, and maybe my body will thank me later. But what seems to happen nearly every single time I make this effort, when what I really wanted (not just, "oh, I could go for some" but "I want some, and nothing else will satisfy) was ice cream and I tried to subsitute something else, is that I am left unsatisfied. My belly is full, but I'm not satisfied. Sometimes I realize my mistake and try to fix it by eating the ice cream. I walk away overfull and a little uncomfortable. Sometimes I just walk away without the ice cream. Either way, I end up disappointed and fixated on something that could have been easily solved with a scoop of chocolate chip cookie dough frozen yogurt.
Ugh.
I am a girl who loves her ice cream. Most of the time I know to accept this, enjoy this, embrace this. But when I don't, when I let something or somebody tell me that this is not ok and I try in vain to sub in dried fruit or yogurt, it's just so disappointing every time. Frustrating even.
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