Sunday, January 8, 2012

Bits and Bites

Making moussaka, late at night, in a quiet house. 
Life is a good place, full of lovely moments with memorable people, and punctuated by delicious scents and tastes that make it that much more enjoyable.  I thought I would upload some of the recent moments that made my tastebuds happy, and my heart sing. 

It didn't even matter that no one in my family
 liked the cinnamon laced dish, other than me.
I loved cooking it. 
I really love spending time in my kitchen. I love cooking for others, for myself, for big or small events. I love making food or baking to give away. I feel satisfied when something turns out as I had hoped it might. Sometimes it is as simple as the joy of using up the bananas to make banana muffins for the kids to eat right out of the oven. Or the more complex hours of making "smash cakes", cake pops, and a big fondant polka-dot covered cake for my little girl's (and little niece's) first birthday party.
The cake from my daughter and niece's joint 1st bday party.
I made it, and played with fondant for the first time.
We had a polka-dot party. How sweet!


I also love enjoying food with others. I relish the idea of sitting down to a meal with my husband and kids, savouring the flavours as we discuss the day. I thrill at the bigger get togethers with extended family, or with friends, when we linger and talk at the table for hours.  We hosted Christmas day this year, instead of Christmas Eve. Christmas Eve is the big gathering, and it's semi-potluck, which makes it easier on the host. The bonus of hosting Christmas Day for my family (there were 15 of us here), was that we got to cook what we wanted, since the big turkey dinner was the night before. Sharing beef tenderloin, slow grilled on cedar planks with a paste of crushed roasted garlic, dijon and rosemary, made me happy.
My husband's cooking is so good.
He marinated some shrimp and then slow-hickory-smoked them.
Two of these were such a burst of flavour, I think we should do
it again and serve them on baguette slices with some kind
of creamy base, as appetizers.

Focussing on that joy in sharing the moment, instead of wrapping my thoughts up so much in the food, is helping me. I'm truly enjoying every bite, but I seem to be happy to eat less.

I'm finally starting to get past the feelings of I might never get to eat this amazingness ever again so I had better eat it all right NOW. So instead of the hyperboleandahalf  monster that wants to do it all RIGHT NOW (which is my usual downfall), I'm pausing to reflect, and to recognize that there will be other chances to do, to say, to taste, or to experience. Maybe there won't exactly be, but maybe that's okay, too.

This was a smoked pork butt. Melt in my mouth.... sigh.
I ate too much of it, and reinforced once again that pork really
doesn't sit well. I need to eat it sparingly.
I love eating food that my husband cooks. I love knowing that someone has put the love and sacrifice into making something for me. My love language truly is time. You could make me a macaroni necklace, but if I know that took you time, I would accept it joyfully as your labour of love... and I would be thrilled.

My sister made Christmas gifts this year. My sister doesn't make things, not usually. Usually she buys things. Usually, she buys very pretty things, expensive and well thought out things. But the earring holder she made me made me beside myself with happiness. Why? Because she made it. She took the time to do something that wasn't easy or comfortable for her, and she was thoughtful and worked hard to find something I would love. And I DO! I love it so much more than a hundred dollar pashmina, though that would be lovely too... This is just better.

When J cooks for me, I feel like a queen. When I help him cook, I tell him non-verbally that I love him, and he tells me the same. It is joyful. The omelette he made me this morning was love on a plate. Sure, it was 4 eggs and too much cheese (YUM), and had way more butter than I'd use, but it was a gift from someone who could have been watching football or playing guitar (or myriad other things on his one day off!). And he made me my very own omelette.

My kiddos, admiring the Christmas tree.
I love these moments.
(Listening to all my crazy talk, you're probably getting a good idea of why I might be fat. I attach way too much sentiment to EVERYTHING. Or do I? Maybe it's not such a bad thing to feel life extra intensely.)
Tearing apart the gingerbread house, an annual tradition on
January 6th. I'm trying to implement healthy ideas about food
with my kids by having occasional free-for-alls, and not
restricting food with so much negativity as was common in
my childhood. We talk about making healthy choices, but the
annual blow-out-eat-all-the-gingerbread-you-want is so much fun.

It's probably kind of silly to post all of these pics here, on this post. Kind of random, really. I don't have a good reason to, other than the fact that I feel happy and content and want to share a bit of my world.

I've been faithfully getting on my treadmill every day, or going outside to walk or run. I've been running,  for real, every other day, and walking every single day. It feels so good to push myself past my lazy-assed comfort zone. Today, we went for a family walk in the gorgeous afternoon weather, just wearing hoodies and gloves. We trekked around the 30 acres we call home, pulling baby G in the wagon, and going up and down hills. (I pulled the wagon. She gets heavy after a while.) We checked out a few places we'd like to camp in the summer, inspected the jawbone of a misfortunate animal who apparently had bone cancer in life, we sniffed the air and touched the grasses... and had an all out family snowball fight, with Daisy going wild. It was so much fun to laugh and breathe and play.

All the working out is giving me more energy, so a late-night
Christmas-tree hacking spree isn't unheard of.
Today, I tidied up the last vestiges of Christmas - everything that didn't get done last night. 

Tonight's supper was a prime rib roast with mashed potatoes and gravy, and a blue cheese sauce for the meat. We had green beans from last summer's crop, and a salad. I ate way, way, way too much meat, as I am wont to do. I love beef. I'll talk more about that some other time. Sigh.

You know what? Even though I overdid it, and I know it, I don't feel that bad about it. I have been really responsible all week, and I don't think this is going to hurt my weigh in on Wednesday.

Oh, for the record, my first WI last Wednesday put me at 213. As you can see, I haven't really made much progress as far as the scale is concerned, since I fell off the wagon back last spring.

I have a long way to go, but my optimism is at an all time high.

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2 comments:

Born to Run said...

Beautiful post! You are a lovely writer!

TL said...

Than you so much! What a thoughtful comment. :)

My weight loss journey