I love to spend time puttering in the kitchen, but have really got out of the practice of slow food lately.
I believe that most every food is good, in moderation. However, I noted an alarming tendency in my diet... too much sugar, too much coffee, too much booze. I was reacting to stress with unhealthy diet, and that it a vicious circle I want no part of... for me, I know that bad diet leads to poor self-image and depression, which leads to eating more sweets and drinking more... it needed to stop.
I have declared a one-week moratorium on sugar, coffee and alcohol, beginning last Thursday. I will extend as desired... frankly, after just four days, I feel ever so much better already. Except for the sugared vanilla syrup in my London Fog this morning (or, for the uninitiated, a non-fat vanilla Earl Grey tea Misto, if you're ordering at Starbucks), and a tiny bit of batter ingested when I, er, "accidentally" licked a wooden spoon (or three) this afternoon, I've been faithful. (Let's call that quality control, shall we?)
Yesterday just before dinner, I realized that if I wanted dessert, I'd have to whip one up. The gelato in the freezer, non-fat though it was, was out of bounds due to sugar content. Rescuing a handful of withery Mac apples, I whipped up an apple pie. I won't use shortening or excessive butter in my pie crusts, and have long become comfortable with the knowledge that my pie crusts will be... how shall I say it... robust. This was no exception. You don't need a plate to eat my pies on... they stand up for themselves. On the plus side, they're high in fiber, low in fat and good for the development of one's jaw muscles.
Today was destined to be a baking day, too. Mom Linda, who has spent her entire life hating fruitcake, loves mine. So we struck a bargain this year... when she came to visit, she'd bring apple pie (I am green with envy over her crusts, though I won't think of the high fat content requires to make them so perfectly flaky.) In exchange, I'd have a ready supply of fruitcake for her.
What with travel and all in the fall, I didn't get a chance to make my fruitcake. It seems a little odd to be doing it mid-February, but all the same, that's how I spent the afternoon. It will be perfectly marinated in brandy by the time mom arrives, a little more then a month from now.
Then, for tonight's dinner, I have a pot of Thai fish soup simmering fragrantly on the stove.
There's something supremely satisfying about healthy, delicious food, made by one's own hands. Despite the fact that I didn't spend the kind of time in the sewing room I had looked forward to, I cannot by any means call the weekend a loss.
I hope your weekend was as satisfying as mine was.
If you are lucky enough to have a long weekend, allow me to a) be green with envy, and b) live vicariously through you. Us Feds get stiffed out of Mr. McGuinty's grand new holiday. Thanks, whoever is responsible for that. Love ya.
(Family Day? When our kids are out of school but we're not off work? Call it "Babysitter's Day", 'cause that's what it is.)