Hungry For The Truth

Decadent Liver Pate

2012-02-21T20:09:00.000-08:00

So here it is...my favorite way to get more iron in my diet. Believe it or not chicken liver is one of my favorite things in the world but nowhere is it more enjoyable than in pate form. Pate, I've discovered, is a lot like meatloaf or chicken soup. It's one of those home-cooked classics that comes out a little different each time, depending on which spices are prevalent in the cupboard and what wine or sherry is on hand.

This pate was made with Madeira wine but it's also great with sherry, cognac, and red wine. I've also made it with butter but today's batch was sauteed with grapeseed oil, my frying oil of choice for its healthiness (throw your canola oil OUT, ok?) and high smoking point. Crowned with a glorious slathering of caramelized onions and served with a relish tray of baby sweet gherkins, grainy mustard, capers, fresh chopped red onions, and caramelized onions. To continue properly in the Jewish tradition, the pate would be spread on toasted rye bread slices or matzoh crackers, but for tonight's dinner, I went with rice cakes. And they actually handled all that decadent action pretty well. Liver pate is one of those loaded foods that'll hold you over for hours. Sometimes I have it in the morning instead of eggs, for lunch instead of chicken, or right after a hard DDPYOGA workout when I'm ravenous. Making your own is also inexpensive compared to the prepared varieties and its loaded with protein and iron.

Decadent Liver Pate

1 16-ounce tub of chicken livers
2 large onions, sliced or diced
6-10 cloves garlic, smashed
1/2 cup butter or oil
1/2 cup wine or sherry
1 tsp. celery or regular salt
2 tsp. Old Bay Seasoning
1 sprig fresh rosemary

Saute the onions and garlic in the oil or butter until slightly caramelized. Add the liver and mix thoroughly as it's sauteed over medium heat. After two minutes, add wine, salt, seasoning, and rosemary. Sautee for 15 minutes uncovered. Let cool until lukewarm or room temperature and process in a food processor until smooth. Transfer to an airtight container and refrigerate several hours or overnight before serving. Keeps refrigerated for about a week.

Bon Appetit!

Flavor Vs. Freedom: What's It Worth?

2012-02-18T08:56:00.000-08:00

There I was at the dinner table, ladeling Turkey Tetrazzini into white ceramic bowls - mine and theirs. I don't inflict my clean-eating ways on others, unless, of course, they choose to go willingly. And so, for this particular dinner, I made two versions of one of the most creamy and classic ways to enjoy leftover turkey. Theirs ('they' being my significant other and his teen-aged son): chopped turkey breast, minced pimentos, spices, and copious amounts of sour cream. The only difference in my version of the Tetrazzini was the sour cream was replaced by goat yogurt.

Both versions were tossed with al dente gluten-free rigatoni. That's because Significant Other & Son like g-free pasta, so we all cook with it. What they don't dig, however, is the pungent taste and comparatively runny texture of goat yogurt vs. sour cream.

As they both raved about the Tetrazzini and how flavorful and creamy it was, they asked me point blank if I really like the taste of goat yogurt and the honest answer is....Yes. But truthfully, I like sour cream better. There's nothing like the richness of it and I've yet to find an equal in the world of goat, sheep, or soy alternatives.

And that's just the way it is. It's the trade I've chosen to make when three years ago, I traded in 185 pounds of unwanted fat and trapped fluid. The price wasn't as high as you might imagine. There was no dieting, surgery, or drugs involved. But some fine-tuning of the food I consumed was in order, and I decided the best way to make the trade is by doing it honestly and not kidding myself.

We all know there's no shortage of weight loss philosophies and gurus out there who build their premise on deceit. The smoke-and-mirrors-trickery of "this bone-dry, oven-baked 'fried chicken' tastes just as good as the real thing." Or 'Try this alfredo sauce made with fat-free half and half...you'll never know the difference."

Uh, yeah I will. I've tried all the tricks. All the ways to keep some of my favorite binge foods in the equation while erasing the calories and ensuing physical damage. Doesn't work. Not by a long shot.

Three years ago, I stepped on the scale at my doctor's office and stood there in silent horror as the digits scrolled to 345. The time had finally come to reverse the tide. I was 44 and battered by a lifetime of yo-yo dieting, so let's just say I'd become an expert at what didn't work.

Dieting and severe deprivation were out of the question. So where was I go to? The middle road. At long last, after a lifetime of swinging like a deranged Tarazn between the extremes of gluttony and starvation, I realized that freedom and long-term success would involve the two extremes integrating into a way of life that spelled the end of drastic and unrealistic measures.

Pleasure was an immutable part of the equation. But the destruction had to go...and it couldn't be ejected forcibly. I'd tried and tried so many times to eliminate binge-eating by sheer will, by becoming a harsh drill sergeant and screaming 'STOP!' as if such a simple command could bring an addiction to its knees. Each attempt only got me further in the hole. Here's the other awakening I had three years ago: the binge-eating would only be eliminated when I faced the reasons I was knocking myself semi-unconscious with food in the first place. Admittedly easier said than done, but worth walking through the fire for.

So here's a rough outline of my relationship with food now. It stems from honoring my particular likes and dislikes. I'm realistic enough now to accept that I won't eat a food I'm not into, no matter how healthy Dr. Oz says it is. But it can't all be a pleasure ride or else how could I drop 185 pounds without dieting? I'm mindful that my body requires certain amounts of protein, fat, vegetables, and carbohydrates to function properly. So now I listen hard to my body...and NOT a magazine or diet that tells me what and how much to eat. I also want those combinations to be as interesting and enticing as possible. Sometimes on days I workout hard, I'll augment the protein intake with an egg-white protein drink (I actually love them now, especially when super-charged with a heaping spoonful of cocoa powder). And then there are the days when a Turkey Tetrazzini casserole, buttered gluten-free bagel, or a slice of flourless chocolate cake are the only things that'll fill the bill.

Thanks to the advice of the mentors who led me out of the woods, Diamond Dallas Page ( WWW.DDPYOGA.COM ) and Terri Lange, I was handed priceless advice on a silver platter: eliminate gluten and cow-dairy from my repertoire and watch what happens. I have tremendous respect for them both so I listened, even though I doubted I could live without cheese longterm. Guess what? After the initial month-long period of withdrawal, I felt better than I ever thought possible, so I kept running with it. And began to enjoy the undiscovered world of goat gouda, truffle-infused chevre, and peccorinio.

Sometimes, goat and sheep cheese is comparable or actually better than its cow counterparts and other times, as with sour cream, the substitute doesn't quite float my boat. When I began eating clean, I wanted to go about it honestly so I did the requesite mourning for the fat-injected flavor of cream cheese, the cottony texture of wonder bread squeezing a tuna sandwich together, but in a post 9-11 world, how can I really view such a loss as tragic? Even more so when I saw the amazing return on my investment: down 12 sizes, feelin' groovy, and able to do things I've never done before...like:

* Spring myself from a chaise lounge without back-up

* Shop for clothing anywhere but Lane Bryant

* Cross my legs

* Gracefully eject myself from '68 Corvette Coupe

* Navigate a crowded restaurant without knocking chairs over, Godzilla-style, with my hips

The short-list of freedoms may sound like small potatoes, but to anyone who's been in bondage for any reason or length of time, I don't have to spell out how valuable it is. There's nothing like it. The physical freedom is probably the most obvious to those who have known me for years. I love looking and feeling free. But what I love hearing most is when someone says to me my eyes have life in them again.

It's true...I've returned from the underground of a 20- year slumber. It's good to be back. And if sour cream has to take a back seat, do you think I really mind?

Lentil & Rice Soup: Warm Up and Fill Up

2012-01-06T21:19:00.000-08:00

One of the longstanding traditions in our family was pork and sauerkraut on New Year's Day. I'm not sure what the ritual was supposed to usher in, but in our house it was an unshakable cooking odor that seemed to seep into the molecular level of the carpeting and drapes and hover like a semi-hostile ghost for weeks.

Nowadays, my New Year's Day Tradition is a little cleaner...in more ways than one. I still have days when I'm nothing but carnivorous, but the frequency is less. I've discovered it's just a natural change that occured during the past three years as I've dropped 185 through clean eating (specifically no gluten or cow-dairy) and being physcially engaged (DDPYOGA, long distance walking, weight-lifting). Oh yeah, and feeling with awareness. What, did you think it was all about calories and exercise? No one gets to where I was on the scale without doing some serious sprinting away from feelings, and if you're looking for similar freedom from bondage, you'd better learn to make friends with feeling what you're avoiding most, or it's gong to be a long and bumpy ride through the valley of dieting snakeoil salesmen.

But back to the subject. I've still gotta eat. Heck, I still love it; I mean REALLY love it and always will, only now, I zero in on food that enhances everything: my mood, the way my vital organs function, and my metabolism. Firm rule of thumb: it's got to taste good or why bother. I spent too many years in purgatory pretending bone-dry 'oven fried' chicken was just as good as the real thing. No more of that. When I want fried chicken, I go to Hattie's. And when it's a cold, gloomy January day, I often want some version of lentil soup. There are endless varieties of them and not just because of the dozens of varieties of lentils out there. They adapt beautifully to any spice palate. Lentils are also astoundingly inexpensive, and loaded with nutrition. And when blended with a simple carb like rice or potatoes, equate to a complete protein...no meat or cheese necessary to round out the meal.

Here's a version I did on New Year's Day. To be honest, when I do soup, I just rummage through the spice cabinet and shake whatever strikes my fancy that day into the pot. For this batch it was something like paprika, onion salt, rosemary, and cayenne pepper. Soups are very forgiving and hard to screw up completely. If you're a novice, don't be afraid to play with flavors. You'll probably end up savoring the results.

New Year's Day Lentil Soup

1 bag lentils (for this I used split orange lentils)*
2 large to medium onions, sliced or diced**
1 head garlic, cloves smashed
Olive or grapeseed oil for sauteeing the vegetables
Two tablespoons of seasoning: whatever's in the cupboard. Paprika, garlic or onion powder, thyme, sage, rosemary. Whatever blend you choose should total about two tablespoons.
1/4 cup powdered chicken stock or 4 boullion cubes

Note:
* If using whole lentils, like pinto beans or black-eyed peas, you'll need to soak them in water overnight
**You can add chopped carrots, celery, leeks to the onions and garlic. No rules with this soup!

Pour split lentils into a large stock pot and add about a quart of purified drinking water. Let soak for two hours. Water will absorb into the lentils. After two hours of soaking, place lentils over medium heat and add more water until they're submerged by about 3 inches.

In a large frying pan, add chopped vegetables and enough oil to coat them well. Sautee over medium heat until at least soft and translucent. It's OK if some of them brown, it enhances the soup's flavor. Setcooked vegetables aside as lentils continue to cook. After about an hour, do a texture check to see if lentil are soft enough to eat. They should somewhere in between hard pellets and mush. A bit al dente, but with some give. Once they're cooked to desired texture, add the boullion, spices, and vegetables and simmer on low heat for aboutr 15 minutes.

As we all know, soup's better the next day, but you may want to dig into this immediately. I served this version with a sticky-wild rice blend, but you can go with potatoes or gluten-free pasta. A little Peccorino cheese (a sheep's milk cheese that's similar to Parmasean) sprinkled over each bowl makes it extra Divine.

Bon Appetit!

December Reflections Or: Yes, This Really IS My Life

2011-12-27T21:46:00.000-08:00

It’s the tail end of the year. The final grains of sand from December’s hourglass are cascading out of sight. This is when I tend to reflect. On how profoundly different my life is now than it was in December 2008.

Three years ago I was extinguishing my life force and any traces of vitality with lumberjack-sized portions of food. My body was in a state of functioning exhaustion for two reasons: it was continually digesting food, and the foods I sent down the hatch were off the charts in their caloric upper-cut of a punch. At the top of the list were copious amounts of potato chips. And not just any old, off-the-shelf variety. These little lethal weapons were cooked in lard and available only in a certain county of southern Pennsylvania. That meant I had to mail order them from the factory if I wanted my fix. The UPS delivery men and women became very familiar with me thanks to the frequency with which they hauled the cumbersome cardboard packages up the stairs to my second floor apartment. The deliveries were the shape and size of a mini cardboard coffin (interesting, huh?) and plastered with shiny red and white stickers that read ‘FRAGILE.’ Curious how those stickers accurately described the contents of the box as well as my then-state-of-mind. It didn’t take much to send me careening into the kitchen to blot out whatever it was I wanted to blot out. Sometimes, there was nothing really to run from. Eating in such a blind and destructive way had simply become a habit, and as I deliberately looked the other way, my weight crept to an all time high of 345 pounds.

Life at such a size had become profoundly difficult at worst, uncomfortable at best. There were obvious physical tasks that were demanding like climbing a single flight of stairs, getting up from the couch, and trying to negotiate a crowded restaurant without knocking over a few tables or chairs with my hips. Even sleeping, the thing that should have been a breeze, was frought with awkwardness. And then there was the wardrobe: black lycra or black lycra. It was my only choice and I wore it daily, even in crippling heatwaves (here’s something that may shock you: a 300 pound woman swathed in black is generally not good company when the mercury spikes above 65 degrees).

As unhappy as I was, I made peace with my life situation. Food was too insidious an addiction to come to grips with, and finally, after years of believing society’s bigotry, the revelation came down from above that my worth as a human being had zippo to do with what the scale said. So there I was at the end of 2008, in total acceptance of the fact that I’d live the rest of my life with an unshakable addiction and an irrevocable relationship with Lane Bryant.

Mystics and sages have said that it’s the moment we finally surrender that Life or Serendipity or The Great Mystery can finally step in and start to amend a seemingly hopeless situation. 2009 had barely begun when I realized the mystics and sages were correct. Two guiding lights, Diamond Dallas Page (http://www.ddpyoga.com/ ) and Terri Lange, materialized in my life to show me a way out of the woods. I was ready to listen to their advice, follow it, and mix it with my body’s innate wisdom to create a way of living that both strengthened and lightened me, on more than just a physical level.

Yes, the addiction was shakable afterall, but only after I came to terms with two things: 1) I wouldn’t delude myself that being at a lower weight would be a golden ticket to happiness, and 2) I would agree once and for all to face the demons that continually sent me careening into the kitchen.

It took years and I was determined not to rush the process. I wanted a house of bricks. And three years later, I have one. Becoming who I am today was and is an ongoing process that required getting to know and like foods that enhanced my energy level and health, paying attention to or more accurately, FEELING the emotions that are part of the human package, and being physically active on a regular basis. This may not sound like your idea of a good time but I swear, for the most part it’s all been pretty enjoyable…even the challenging days. As Terri Lange told me, marching IN the parade vs. being on the sidelines means taking the good with the bad. Sometimes it feels gloriously exhilarating to be in the middle of it. Other times I get rained on or limp along because of blisters. And just when I think I’ve signed up for a little more of life than I bargained for, I remind myself not only that blisters heal, but I’M IN THE FREAKIN’ PARADE.
Last week I opened my front door to find a cardboard box delivered by UPS waiting for me, adorned with 'FRAGILE' stickers. I felt a momentary and disturbing flashback to the days of hovering half-awake in a potato chip coma, then remembered that it was an order for Lucini organic extra virgin olive oils and balsamic vinegars. It would be accurate to say that three years later, I exercise a little more discretion when it comes to sending food down the hatch now. http://shop.lucini.com/Extra-Virgin-Olive-Oil/c/Lucini@OliveOil I tore the box open with delight, admired the gorgeous deep green of the oil, then made a goat cheese omelet with Lucini's lemon-infused olive oil.

So with only a few grains of sand remaining, I’ll close out December 2011 with a major expression of Gratitude to Dallas Page, Terri Lange, and so many amazing members of Team DDPYOGA (Jamie, Richard, Rez, Jay, Sparky, Doug, HD, Robert) who give of themselves and uplift others on their journey back to a fuller life.

Black Lycra: My Uniform Du Jour for 20 Years

I still wear black...but now it's a choice, not a mandate

Masala Farm: An Inspired Life

2011-12-14T12:20:00.000-08:00

A book-signing for Suvir Saran’s “Masala Farm: Stories and Recipes from an Uncommon Life in the Country” will take place from 4 to 8 p.m. Friday, Dec. 16, at Gardenworks, 1055 Route 30, in Salem, N.Y. For more information, call (518) 854-3250. For more information on Suvir Saran, visit www.suvir.com .

I always tell people there’s no one answer to how I got rid of 185 pounds (and the emotional baggage that’s a package deal). Pardon the pun, but it’s simply too big an issue to point neatly in a singular direction of a pat answer. The ‘How Did You Do It’ queries come both in-person and via e-mail. Usually I can tell when someone really wants to hear what I have to say or if they’re hoping to be sent packing with a quickie prescription of diminished calories and a drill sergeant’s rotation of sit-ups and squats.

I can only give them the truth: The solution is a glittering mosaic. From a distance it may look like a single object, but step towards the canvas for a closer look and you’ll see a composition of little pieces made of different colors, shapes, and textures. All are intrinsic in their importance because when a piece of the mosaic is missing, it’s not the same picture.

Yes, I exercise on a regular basis. Yes, I eat considerably less than I did three years ago. But there’s so much more to the living-in-balance equation. Somewhere along the journey, I knew it would be crucial to make peace with food. With my intense love of it, my well-documented misuse of it, and my sometimes unmitigated fear of it. I’d been heading in the direction of a more harmonious relationship with food for years. And then one day, out of the blue, came an invitation of sorts, to hop on board the peace train. It was May of 2008 when I visited Suvir Saran and Charlie Burd at their gorgeous farm, tucked into the far reaches of Washington County, N.Y., not far from the Vermont border.

I was there to interview Suvir for a newspaper feature on his career as a celebrity chef, cookbook author, lecturer, and owner of the Michelin-awarded Devi restaurant in Manhattan. Despite the sundrenched spring weather, I was attired in my uniform du jour: black spandex leggings and a billowy black top. Even the shoes and sunglasses were of the noir persuasion. Truly, I was shrouded in every sense of the word. But at a size 26, I had very few wardrobe options.

Suvir and Charlie, May 2008...and me in the background taking notes in my usual Johnny Cash ensemble...

Suvir ushered me into the kitchen to a stool at the granite counter overlooking his industrial-sized Viking stove. The stove is his favorite place in the 232-year old farm house because it’s where he loves holding court, whether entertaining out of town guests for the weekend, friends from farmhouses down the road, or in this case, a journalist. I knew I was in for an interview unlike any other when Suvir opened his refrigerator and pulled out a glass bowl filled with goose eggs.

“Do you like eggs?” he asked, smiling as I stared in wonder at what looked like a pile of mini-white footballs.

“They’re my favorite food in the world,” I murmured, sensing with anticipation that he had some serious plans for the eggs.

“Good,” he said quietly, lighting the flame under a cast iron skillet and drizzling it with olive oil.

There were four people to cook for (a photographer had accompanied me) but the enormousness of each egg meant frying only one at a time, which frazzled him not a bit. I can still see Suvir at the Viking, standing protectively over the emerging masterpiece, adorning it with a bit of sea salt and fresh pepper. The culmination came with a chunk of Parmigiano Reggiano cheese pushed back and forth across a grater until the sunny-side-up egg looked like a snow-capped volcano.

Suvir and "The Girls"

As Suvir went on to prepare the next goose egg, Charlie brewed foamy cups of espresso and stirred a pot of Sambhaar (a spicy vegetable and lentil stew) simmering on an adjacent burner while both talked about their most recent visit to Southeast Asia.

Suvir Saran's Sambhaar, a delightfully spicy vegetable-lentil stew from his "American Masala" cookbook

Then Suvir handed me a copy of his first cookbook, “Indian Home Cooking,” to look over and I found myself staring at a page near the beginning where he states the following philosophy: “When a guest comes into your house, God comes with him…we treat all our guests as if they were God because we believe God is in all of us.”

Suvir didn’t just stop with perfectly prepared goose eggs that day (with the warm liquid yolks oozing over the toasted bread like glorified, pearlescent lava). He pulled glass storage bowls from the refrigerator to reveal a tomato chutney salsa and a pale green coconut-mint chutney. Then he fired up an iron wok and began ladling a batter made of rice and chick pea flour to make Dosas, a savory pancake used for dipping. (Everything Suvir cooked that day, except the goose eggs, were from recipes in his excellent “American Masala” cookbook).

Heaven in a griddle: Suvir Saran's chick pea-flour-based Dosas

“I don’t know why I’m doing this,” he said, looking momentarily up from the sizzling Dosa “I’ve never made Dosas for a journalist before.” Somewhere in his core, he must have intuited a fellow food lover under the journalistic veneer. And perhaps at an unconscious level, he sensed I was trapped in a prison of a body and was searching for answers.

As Suvir will tell anyone who asks (and as a lecturer and consultant who travels the world on speaking engagements, he’s asked quite frequently), the answer to excess weight or any other health imbalance isn’t to enlist your inner drill sergeant of restriction. Don’t we all know by now that it always backfires? Why do we keep falling for it? Why did I keep falling for it all those years? Maybe because I thought it was the only answer, the singular way out of the tunnel.

Suvir maintains, as I ultimately realized, that food is a pleasure meant to be enjoyed. The eating experience is inherently nurturing if we allow it to be. Cliché as it may sound, food is glorious. And it can be both glorious and health-enhancing.

The goose egg was divinely creamy. The symphony of spices in the apricot-colored Sambhaar richocheted from my tongue to the back of my throat as I savored each spoonful. The crisp Dosa was the perfect vehicle to enjoy the thick chutneys, and both versions were fragrant and hypnotic.

If only every meal could have such a ratio of peacefulness and pleasure.

The renowned food critic Gael Greene describes Suvir’s prowess in the kitchen as a cross between George Balanchine and Leonard Bernstein because of his instinct for finding the perfect tension between an efficient flow of food and conversation and a relaxed, enjoyable pace. She has been known to go on for pages about Suvir’s cooking: “I’ve found myself seduced by his Indian riffs on American classics; the richer-than-Bill Gates mac and cheese, his remarkable corn bread, the classic American cakes he perfected, like his dense lemon cake, and upside-down pineapple,” Greene writes in her blog, www.insatiable-critic.com .

That day, we talked at length about the importance of the farm-to-table movement, the evils of the nation’s corporate ways that fills supermarket shelves with dirt-cheap cans of processed food floating in excess food coloring and sodium. But I gathered the most information simply by observing Suvir and Charlie’s ways in the kitchen, the relaxed and modulated pace of meal preparation, and the rapt attention they gave to me as a guest in their home as we sat around our plates and talked. No trance-inducing news footage from a television or even background music from a stereo to interfere with genuinely connecting.

I listened as Suvir explained his views on home kitchens being sacred territory and the central nerve center of the home.
“In the Indian home, the kitchen is where we create magical tastes that have the power to heal the mind, body, and soul. All cultures that are a happy people meet in the kitchen,” he said, scooping out a dollop of mint chutney with a Dosa. “I want to encourage people to go back to the kitchen and start nurturing. I want us to go back to a civilized culture, not one where we are isolated from one another. You are what you eat. And so my philosophy, and that of my parents and grandparents, is to cook, share, and eat with care and thought.”

Suvir had no way of knowing this at the time (though my 300-pound-plus frame may have given him an inkling),but my kitchen was quite the opposite environment. Over the years its main function had eroded into a pit stop to refuel for more potato chip and clam dip binges. Like Suvir and Charlie, I actually loved giving dinner parties and occasionally threw them, but as my eating to dull emotional pain escalated, so did a healthy perspective on food choices, quantity, and an overall sense of boundaries as to a time and a place for eating. For me it was anytime, anyplace, any reason. The original reasons for starting in the first place had long blurred out of focus…such clever grease that keeps the wheels of addiction spinning in perfect rhythm.

I left American Masala Farm that day with Suvir’s first two cookbooks, a cache of goose eggs, and an amazing sense of serenity that I parlayed into a mother’s day lunch on my apartment balcony later that week. I served the courses in the most leisurly fashion ever known to friends and family. The time spent together was a lot more than just a meal, it was an event that lasted for several hours before the last bite of dessert was gone. It would be nearly 9 months (interesting gestation period, no?) before the A-Ha! Moment came while watching Oprah in a potato chip-stupor, which set in motion an avalanche of change and ensuing weight transformation. But something had shifted in me during that encounter with Suvir and Charlie on their farm. It was real and profound and like a seed, took some time to manifest its fruit.

In a culture that desperately reveres instant gratification (especially where wanting to look a certain way is concerned) it’s important that I’m clear with people up front that my path to salvation wasn’t a speedy one. I don’t know if it ever can be.

It took years to put the mosaic together and frame it. Fervent journaling, group therapy, white-knuckle dieting, a few 12-step meetings thrown in for good measure, reading untold volumes of self-help books, an ongoing love affair with spirituality, and a beautiful, savory lesson at American Masala Farm on the transformational power of food all played a part. Up until May 2008, I’d always operated under the premise that food and isolation go hand in hand. Thanks to Suvir and Charlie,I realized it’s quite the opposite.

And it gets even better: The experience I had at their farm has been distilled into Suvir’s latest book, “Masala Farm: Stories and Recipes from an Uncommon Life in the Country.” It’s a cookbook/memoir of simple, pleasure-filled living that Suvir and Charlie wrote together. It showcases dozens of their favorite recipes and recipes from their circle of friends, including Glens Falls caterer Sally Longo, who spent weeks at the farm helping with recipe prep and photo shoots. I’ve been perusing the recipes and photos and it all looks divine. As someone who eats gluten-free, I’ll be making a beeline for the Farmhouse Crispy-Creamy Potatoes, Chai Cider, Chunky Eggplant Dip, Asparagus and Green Pea Risotto, and the Almost-Flourless Caramel-Lacquered Chocolate Peanut Torte.

And I’ll absolutely be marking the occasion with a dinner party. Do I have any takers?

A consummate giver: I'm over the moon because Suvir just gifted me with a pair of padukas from his family's home in India. I cherish them and use them everyday.

The Yellow Pants: How I Did It:

2011-08-16T23:44:00.000-07:00

For 20+ years I wore black, head to toe. On broiling summer days and on occasions like Easter and Valentine's Day when the rest of the world is immersed in pastels. Well, today my traditional wardrobe has turned on a dime. Often, I still wear black pants, both because black blends well with other colors and a simple force of habit. Eight months ago I bought a pair of yellow pants because they called to me. For some reason the lemon-yellow beckoned my name, even though I couldn't get them past my thighs.

I knew there'd come a day when I would indeed have them fully hoisted and the button fastened comfortably around my waist. The key: not forcing my intended result into a timetable of my making. The body, as I've been saying for so long, knows what it's doing, has its own intelligence and has things covered that I can't even begin to comprehend, like the automatic regulation of my heart rate, body temperature, blood pressure, and on and on. I realized it was futile and not very smart to try and boss it around. So I stopped. And now, when I have a goal, a particular finish line I want to cross, I set my sights on it and then step out of the way and leave the mico-managing to a higher and wiser force.

So it took eight months, big deal. They fly by when you're not obsessing and clock-watching anyway. I simply kept up the way I now live: being active through YRG, long-distance walking, and weight training; and being faithfully married to clean eating. Keeping gluten and cow dairy out of my system continues to enhance both my body and mind. I was also lucky enough to join a gym that had a trainer who was beyond helpful and enthusiastic. His guidance and formula (supersets) helped transform me and give me the extra push I needed at the tail end of my weight release when progress can sometimes slow down. Thanks to the discerning prescription dispensed by Paul Grassia, my progress actually accelerated, which accelerated me into those yellow pants. Yeah Baby!

I did the work, but no one does inner and outer transformation like this alone. So here's to my A-Team: Paul, DDP, Terri Lange, Team YRG, my Ayurvedic nutritionist Judy Joy Wyle, my spiritual avatar Sri Pranaji, Karina Allrich (the Gluten-Free Goddess), Inner Beauty Goddess Masha Penson, massage therapist and belly-dance teacher extraordinaire Mary Imbimbo Kuntz, Angel-Photographer Joan K. Lentini, role-model-for-creativity Serena Kovalosky, fellow-shadow-seeker Carrie Lee McClelland, and everyone else who have thrown me bouquets of support.

Thanks to you all, I'm Living Life. REALLY living it.

It's Called The Pleasure Principle: Look Into It! Or...There's No Place Like Hattie's

2011-07-10T20:48:00.000-07:00

* All photos by Joan K. Lentini of Forward Vision Photography

Anyone who's known me for two weeks or more knows the basic nuts and bolts of my bio. Details large and small like I'm:

A writer

Permanently fixated on the color pink

A former 345-pound woman maintaining a 180 pound weight-loss

A fanatic about weight-lifting (What can I say...I saw "Pumping Iron" an an influential age)

In love with fried chicken and always will be.

I’m also a recovering American. Lured at childhood into addictive cycles that involved fast and processed food, I've spent the majority of my life either over-indulging in food (the more caloric, the better) or trying fruitlessly to kill off once and for all, my love of it.

Fast food was gloriously perfect for an affliction that demanded both self-loathing and isolation. Thanks to a brilliant insight from my friend Esmond Lyons, I’ve realized that fast food is the pornography of the culinary world. It’s cheap, slapped together in a hurry, and satisfies only for a few seconds. And it’s usually partaken with at least a few grams of shame.

Immediately after earning my driver's license at age 17, I discovered the magic of drive-thrus because they upped the isolation ante. And they delivered the goods quicker: a bucket of chicken or a combination meal that centered around the largest cheeseburger on the menu shoved through my car window and I was in heaven. The second I found a free parking space I could turn the engine off and shoot up...with no one to watch me. Once I got a taste of the drive-thru lifestyle, actually entering a fast-food establishment through the front door was unthinkable. In my Heart I knew the reasons I was eating. And they had nothing to do with appreciation of the food. What I appreciated was the way it drugged me. How it hurled me instantly into the Twilight Zone of Numbness. Why would I want to do that in a crowded room full of strangers?

I get a lot of questions now from fellow recovering Americans seeking a similar path of transformation. They want the details of food groups, quantities and, what I’ve eliminated completely. I’m open about my current ways with food, even though I know and they know that a recitation of what I eat isn’t going to truly fix what’s ailing them. It’s a potential starting point though, and what always gets included in the schpiel is this: the only thing I’ve eliminated completely is self-loathing.

When Dallas Page (fitness guru and inventor of YRG) and Terri Lange (The Godmother of YRG) helped walk me through the early stages of withdrawals to the foods I was addicted to, I knew that in addition to taking guidance from them, I needed to tap into my own well of inner wisdom. It would be the only way to make this a long-term contract I could live with.

The art of self-acceptance has many facets to it and one thing I realized, after years of fighting it is, there are certain things about me that just are, like my ardor for fried chicken. As with the color of my eyes and the need to be carried out of the movie "Bambi" on a stretcher, it's not going anywhere.

Here's the main reason I stopped fighting the reality that fried chicken is a very important part of my life: It’s pleasure. Looking back over all my past ‘failures’ where weight-release and balance were concerned, the largest mistake I made was eliminating pleasure from my life. Who can live with that? I’m just not equipped to treat food as fuel, though I’m mindful that fuel is one of food’s intrinsic qualities. As I told a Team YRG member who recently sought my advice about eating, it’s not about eliminating pleasure, but managing my addiction to it. Seeking pleasure and avoiding pain is what we’re programmed to do…the trick for me is not letting it get out of hand. Fighting the fact that I sometimes desire to eat something purely for the pleasure of it only led to unnecessary conflict, self-recrimination, and more elaborate entrapment in the cycle.

Now, when I really want fried chicken, I have it. And I listen very very closely to make sure it’s not a call to fill an emotional hole. They can only be filled with liberal amounts of inwardly directed compassion.

Since I live near Saratoga Springs, N.Y., when I do hear the fried chicken siren going off, I have Hattie’s to fall back on. SO much better than fast food, for a number of reasons, like, visiting with owners Beth and Jasper Alexander face to face and knowing they actually care about the food they serve customers. Much of the vegetables (especially during summer) are locally sourced and many of the recipes (fried chicken, cucumber salad, pecan pie) are from Hattie Moseley Austin (the restaurant's late founder) herself.

With the always-vivacious Beth Alexander, and my secret weapon: a mug of hot water...

...and her genius husband, Jasper. Enjoying face-time, fried chicken, and Hattie's signature cucumber salad.

Hattie’s flagship restaurant in downtown Saratoga Springs has been in operation since 1938. Last year, the Alexander's opened a satellite restaurant outside of town, smack in the middle of a sea of chain restaurants and fast food joints.

Hattie's second location may be surrounded by drive-thru's, but there's only one way to get your hands on a box of their crispy, fragrant fried chicken: walk through the front door. Speeding away with the goods to eat in private isn’t on the radar anymore. And neither is the 'never again' mandate regarding foods I truly love. Think there's a connection?

Sometimes I pop into Hattie's with friends and enjoy a meal with conversation. If I'm doing errands on the fly, I go solo and have no trepidation about sitting at the counter on my own, moaning with joy as I eat (really...just ask the regulars). They key in all this, of course, is balance. I knew when I began this new way of living that I'd have to change some things, or I'd still be 345 pounds. My favorite chicken part by far: thighs. I usually have three. It's just simply what I require to make it worth my time. However, they're accompanied by a vegetable and not biscuits or fries, and I wash it all down with herbal tea or hot water (my secret weapon) and not a sweetened cold drink. It works. I leave the meal ecstatic and satisfied, and I continue to release weight.

If you've read this far, I hope there's no one still wondering why I don't just give the low fat oven-baked version of fried chicken a try. I've tried concocting every version of it in an effort to whittle my waistline and banish the real stuff for good. Every attempt resulted in uniform awfulness.

And I simply don't have time for uniform awfulness in my life anymore. Not when there's so much pleasure to enjoy.

www.hattiesrestaurant.com
www.yrgfitness.com

How To Travel and Eat Clean

2011-07-07T23:26:00.000-07:00

It can be done, Truth-Seekers. With a little planning and help from Mother Nature (Walnuts, Almonds, Almond Milk, Sunflower Seed Butter, Rice Cakes) it's a relative breeze, far more cost effective than fast food, and a priceless investment in your Health.

Recipe of The Week - Strawberry Protein Passion

2011-06-16T09:31:00.000-07:00

OK Truth-Seekers, I've got a lot on my plate this week and it's not just food, so this'll have to be a quickie. Some of you know I've come to love protein drinks with such intensity, I practically live on them. Have at least 2 a day when I'm weight-training and doing YRG.

Now that strawberries are in season, I'm experiencing the joys of enjoying them just-picked vs. the frozen bags I've been accustomed to. This recipe packs nutrition and flavor, and it's also a great aid to either satisfy a craving or prevent one. Bon Appetit!

Strawberry Protein Passion

1 scoop egg white protein powder
8-12 ounces almond or coconut milk
1 cup fresh strawberries

Place all ingredients in blender or in immersion blender cup and blend for about a minute until smooth. Try not to chug all at once...Enjoy!

Recipe of The Week: Gluten-Free Greek Pasta Salad

2011-06-09T21:09:00.000-07:00

This rainbow of flavors is perfect for hot weather - Enjoy - it's good for you too!

Greek Gluten-Free Pasta Salad

1 box gluten-free fettucine (elbows or shells can also be used)

3 tomatoes

1 8 ounce package sheep's milk feta (or two, depending on how much protein you want)

2 packages frozen spinach, defrosted

extra virgin olive oil

organic chicken or vegetable stock (quart box)

Cook pasta risotto style: bring broth to boil and add a bit of olive oil so it doesn't stick together. Should be enough broth to just or barely cover the pasta (if using fettucine, you may have to break pasta strands in half so it fits under the liquid). Stir at least once a minute so it doesn't clump. You may need to add more broth as it absorbs. Cook till al dente. Drain any remaining liquid. Toss with a little more oil, cover and set aside.

Sautee spinach in a bit of olive oil for about 5 minutes, till spinach gets warm. Remove from heat. Chop tomatoes and feta cheese and toss together with spinach. Add to pasta and toss thoroughly. Can be eaten at room temperature or chilled.

Bon Appetit!

Want a New Life? GO to New Life!

2011-06-03T19:19:00.000-07:00

Since releasing 180 pounds over the past couple of years, the focus of my life has changed in more ways than one. Surprising observation? No. But always noteworthy. So far none of the newness of my new life feels old. I still get a major kick out of wearing color. My head-to-toe black wardrobe is very past tense...and actually in someone else's hands thanks to a few carloads taken to the Salvation Army. Would you believe I now own and wear blue plaid pants? Never thought that would happen in this lifetime. Other things I love: climbing stairs or a simple hill without alarming bystanders by sounding like I'm crossing the threshold into cardiac arrest.

The focus of my professional life has changed as well. I still write for a living, but decided it was time to take myself off the gluttony beat I'd generously assigned myself to about a decade ago. Regular HFTT readers know I adore food and always will, but I love it in a different way now: It nurtures me instead of drugging me. And since I'm not sequestering myself in restaurants like I once did, I spend a lot more time at the stove, concocting recipes for HFTT, the Team YRG web site, and my Lotus Love clients. Another new thing: Writing about fitness, activity, motion, and wellness. The cool part is I actually get to do it now - and want to, now that I have the energy.

Case in point - a week-long visit to the New Life Hiking Spa in Vermont last spring. I've been to my share of spas (both during and after my dieting years) and some are OK, others are horrendous (as in too impersonal, lousy food, etc.), and others shine like the sun. The wellness immersion I experienced at New Life left me feeling revitalized, accomplished, stronger, and more serene. Another way to phrase my assessment: LOVED IT!

The spa operates out of The Inn of the Six Mountains in Killington, Vt. during summer months, when ski season in Vermont is a distant memory. It's run by Jimmy LeSage, who founded the spa 32 years ago, the result of his own lifelong quest for better health.

A self-described “hippie into health food and new-age philosophy,” LeSage combined his career as a restaurant chef with emerging trends he saw coming out of health food stores in the late 1970s. “I figured it out the way Nathan Pritikin figured it out,” he said. “I looked at recipes that were appealing and reworked them so they had less salt and fat.”

LeSage makes sure there are cooking demos, and that guests leave home with recipes and other nutritional tools to draw on for lasting change, but what really impressed me is how well he gets the crucial part of the mosaic that most spas overlook: addressing the psycho-spiritual hole that brought the weight in the first place.

“In terms of weight, I feel the real issue is emotional,” said LeSage, who has a counseling degree. “It’s important to address what someone is eating, and also the psychological issues behind it. This isn’t the place to deal with issues with your mom, but the seed is planted.”

And seed-planting is an integral part of New Life’s mission.

“It’s great that clients lose weight while they’re here, but we also give them tools to use when the leave,” he said. “Just the act of buying groceries requires education. We teach people to visit the grocery store as if it were a museum. Explore the choices so you can pick what’s real. Do you want peanut butter made with sugar or without? A whole-grain cracker or one made from white flour?”

As a self-described emotional eater, LeSage says he lives by the advice he gives to his guests. “If I stayed a chef, I’d be dead,” he says. “Now if I graze, I choose an Ak-Mak cracker instead of a Triscuit…or I’ll have an apple. I’ve always been a seeker, and I want people on the path of better health to be seekers, too.”

LeSage has been a certified yoga instructor since 1977, when he studied at the Sivananda Yoga Center in the Laurentian Mountains of Quebec. Yogic principals of stretching, breathing, and quieting the mind are woven throughout the rest of the spa’s fitness regimen.

There are pool classes, Pilates, strength training, dance classes, and cooking demonstrations, but the stretching, yoga, and meditation are a key focal point on New Life’s fitness menu. Mornings begin with stretching and Qi Gong followed by breakfast and a hike. After lunch comes a rotation of exercise classes followed by the pre-dinner ritual yoga and meditation.

“I just believe that when yoga is practiced regularly, very powerful things happen,” said LeSage. “It has changed my life tremendously. I’m a Type A kind of guy and regular yoga has helped me focus and achieve my goals in life. All the stretching and breathing really builds something up. It can’t be quantified, but it’s there.”

Actually, Jimmy, I couldn't agree more. There was something rather magical about the healing properties of doing early morning stretching and breathing at the foot of a majestic mountain, heading into the dining room for a healthy breakfast of fresh fruit and a vegetable omelet, and then embarking on the crown jewel of New Life's fitness philosophy: hiking the Green Mountains.

“Hiking is a great cardio workout in a beautiful setting,” he said. “The key is, we make it enjoyable…people eventually forget that they’re exercising and just drink in the experience.”

Forensic evidence that I hiked The Appalachian Trail!

I was a little intimidated by the prospect of scaling a sizeable mountain, but there are beginner, intermediate, and advanced level options. I started the week out with beginner hikes and ended with intermediate, deciding to save the advanced adventure for my next visit.

Karen Dalury, a yoga instructor at New Life, advises guests away from the ‘all or nothing’ philosophy that’s intrinsic to the dieting mentality.

“Some people come here and want fast results so they do every class; I tell them they’re not going to do all that at home,” she said. “In the long run it’s about finding balance. If someone drinks five cups of coffee a day and it’s going to make them sad to cut it out completely, why not cut back to three cups a day? We want you to be able to feel good and know what’s right for you, so you’re not dependent on diets or gimmicks. You want to be able to check in with yourself and see how you’re feeling right now, and know how much you want on your plate, or see if it’s time to take a walk or take a nap. That’s a skill that’s going to save you in the long run.”

Dalury said that it’s the practice of yoga and relaxation techniques that are just as crucial to the transformation process as cardio and clean eating.

"That's why I love yoga, because it lets you get in touch with yourself. Change isn't going to last if you don't peel away those coverings that keep you from feeling what's going on. Weight loss or a new hairdo is meaningless if you don't have peace of mind to go with it," she said.

Not that a little external pampering is out of place at New Life. What would a spa experience be without it? For every three nights a guest is at the spa, they receive a free service. Guests booked on the 11-night weight loss retreat receive three services, which range from hot-stone massage and reflexology to cranial sacral therapy.

I've been on the yogic path for more than a decade. When I arrived at New Life last June I had already released 150 pounds. I was well-versed in the ways of Health, Happiness, and Inner Balance, but I still learned from being there. There's always something to learn. And there are always more ways I can Love and Honor who I am. Spending a few days climbing over rocks, sweating, opening my hip sockets further than I thought possible, connecting with strangers who became friends, and relaxing into the bliss of someone else's healing touch was one of the best ways ever. Note to self: Gotta do this again.

At peace after afternoon yoga and a massage...and owning my Life!

“We’re not fancy-schmancy…you can’t get pedicures here, but during the 18 weeks we’re open, we’re the best, most affordable spa in the country,” said LeSage. “Back in the ‘80s I wasn’t ‘in’ because I wasn’t expensive. Now we get both types of clients; people who can afford the $7,000-a-week spa and those who are looking for something they can afford.”

www.newlifehikingspa.com

Happy Trails!

Recipe Of The Week: Vegetable Bisque

2011-05-25T09:10:00.000-07:00

OK fellow Truth Seekers...you asked for it and here it is:

Recipe Wednesday.

Recipe Wednesday is...

The perfect antidote for sailing through mid-week doldrums

The entree, side-dish, or dessert you just may devour for dinner this weekend

The beginning of realizing the eye-opening possibilities of eating gluten, wheat, and dairy free, deliciously.

Bon Appetit My Friends!

Stacey

Vegetable Bisque

This is one of the many answers I've come up with to make peace with my lukewarm attitude towards vegetables. Still have to remind myself to eat them after all these years! I'm just not a fan of the flavor and texture of a lot of them, especially the mealy cruciferous ones like broccoli and cauliflower. I recently made a vegetable bisque using a bag of frozen mixed vegetables (broccoli, cauliflower, and carrots). Any combination works. A velvety bisque is a great way to ingest them pleasurably. And because of the coconut milk, there's no dairy hangover.
For this and any bisque recipe you'll need a traditional or immersion blender. Immersions are my preferred method because you don't have to take the soup out of the pot to blend. You do, however, have to be super-careful about splattering. You could sautee onions or garlic on the side and add once vegetables have cooked but it's not necessary. I was in such a hurry when I made this I used onion powder and garlic salt. My spice cupboard is a HUGE time-saver on busy days.

1 bag frozen vegetables

1 TBS. powdered chicken stock or boullion

1 tsp. onion powder

1 tsp. garlic salt

1/2 tsp. cumin

1 can coconut milk (regular or light)

Place vegetables in stock pot and add enough water so that it's about an inch deep, no more. Add seasonings and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer, covered, until vegetables are fork-tender. Add coconut milk and then blend thoroughly until there are no solid vegetable pieces left.

This is great on its own or mixed with rice.

Today's Food Intake

2011-05-23T19:52:00.000-07:00

I guess it's not so odd that some people are curious. Ever since my first absorbing voyage through the pages of Cosmo (circa age 22) I've been fascinated with the food-intake habits of those I aspired to look like. I memorized breakfast irregularities, fluid-releasing tricks, fiber-overload, protein underload predilections of the models and movie stars. I never did master the art of mimicing the eating habits of Cindy Crawford and Vendela (remember her?), but then I realized it's best to just listen to my body, because its signals and cues were designed specifically for me and I'd spent inordinate amounts of energy ignoring them.

That said, HFTT readers know I've always been an open book about the journey that never ends. I'm down 180 pounds and 12 sizes through movement, clean eating and feeling with awareness, so naturally people want a few details on the mechanics. Occasionally I'll get a query from a reader in Toronto asking what I had for lunch today. So when I saw another e-mail from one of my favorite and most loyal fellow Truth Seekers, I felt a thunderbolt of inspiration: Make it a semi-regular blog post.

It'll be illuminating for all of us, including me. Because nothing puts what I've eaten for the day in a more unobjective light than writing it down...and then making it public.

Remember, I didn't get here by dieting or following to the letter what someone else did. I got great advice from my mentors, Dallas Page and Terri Lange, a nutritionist, various members of Team YRG, and my trainer at the gym. Ultimately I made it my own and that's what I encourage you to do.

I eat for both nutrition and pleasure. For years I tried to stomp the latter out of the equation, believing that it was somehow immoral and unnecessary. Oh, how wrong I was. So here's what my tastebuds experienced today...this evening both they and my body are pretty darn happy:

9 a.m.
Double espresso with 4 TBS. light cream and 3/4 TBS honey
Hot water and herbal tea (throughout the day)
2 duck eggs, Sunny
1/2 gluten-free roll, toasted with BUTTER

1 p.m.
1 cup raspberries - I usually eat fruit on its own, better for digestion

2 p.m.
Rhubarb tea (home-brewed...it's rhubarb season!)
1 gluten-free cupcake

5 p.m.
Protein drink made with 1 scoop egg white protein powder, 12 oz. unsweetened almond milk, and a few shakes of cinnamon and apple pie spice (had a craving for the aromatic red spices today)

8 p.m.
Kale Salad with tahini dressing

11 p.m. (as soon as I post this)
Protein drink made with 1 scoop egg white protein power, 12 ounces unsweetened almond milk, spoonful of unsweetened cocoa powder

There you have it. Some days there are three formal meals, some days five or six smaller ones, and on days like today, semi-organized grazing. Today was a little more carb-oriented because I lifted hard at the gym, followed by 35 minutes of treadmill, and later the YRG Fat Burner (a 25-minute quickie workout I do to keep limber and on top of the core strength). Being fluid with whatever my body's calling for works best for me. What works best for you? I know you'll have some delicious fun finding out.

XO
Stacey

Recipe of The Week

2011-05-18T13:43:00.000-07:00

OK fellow Truth Seekers...you asked for it and here it is:

The debut of Recipe Wednesday!

Recipe Wednesday is...

The perfect antidote for sailing through mid-week doldrums

The entree, side-dish, or dessert you just may devour for dinner this weekend

The beginning of realizing the eye-opening possibilities of eating gluten, wheat, and dairy free, deliciously.

Bon Appetit My Friends!

Stacey

Gluten and Dairy-Free Pizza

Did the title of this recipe just induce a major buzz kill? I admit, it would have cooled my jets a little too, had I not eaten this very dish last night for dinner. And might I say my Lotus Love clients were DAZZLED. Now I can't take all the credit, a major part of it goes to Namaste Foods, LLC. They make pizza, cake, cookie mixes and other delights in a dedicated allergen-free facility and everything they make is wheat, gluten, corn, dairy, soy, potato, peanut, and tree nut-free. Talk about purity! But I've heard through the food-allergy grapevine that their stuff is also outstanding and it has proved to be true. Not only was texture and flavor a winner, I was stunned that the only effort required was adding water to the mix and applying a little wire whisk action. No rolling, punching or kneading.

My advice is if you're gonna do it, do it right. I've tried other GF pizza crust mixes and let's just say the results were sandy, grainy, and crumbly-dry disappointments. Seek out Namaste pizza crust mix. If you can't find it at your local store, visit their site and place an order: www.namastefoods.com .

Below is the recipe I made last night...one based on ingredients in the freezer and cupboards. Pizza topping combinations can be as individual as the fingerprint, but whether you make it vegetable or meat-laden, USE A GOOD CRUST!

My other secret for great pizza - great sauce. That means healthy sauce, not one messed up with corn syrup or canola oil. Have cans of tomato sauce or crushed tomatoes on hand for just such an occasion. Add extra virgin olive oil, salt, sugar, or Agave according to your preferences.

1 bag Namaste Pizza Crust Mix
2 medium onions
Light olive oil for sauteeing
1 32 ounce can tomato sauce (no sugar or oil added)
4-6 ounces of Peccorino (a sheep's milk cheese similar to Romano and Parmasan)
4 large sausage links
salt
Agave nectar

Prepare pizza crust according to instructions and set aside in mixing bowl. Namaste has two servings per bag, I made a big Sicilian style pizza so used the whole bag.

Empty tomato sauce into medium sauce pan and add 1 TBS. Agave nectar and teaspoon of salt. Simmer uncovered on low heat (this allows some of the water in the sauce to reduce and makes a thicker, more flavorful sauce).

Preheat oven to 450

Spray a large square baking sheet (like a cookie sheet with a rim) with cooking spray and pour pizza batter into pan. Bake for 20 minutes.

In large skillet, heat enough olive oil to cover the bottom of the pan (medium heat). Slice onions in thin rings and sautee until carmelized. In a seperate skillet, cook sausage until done, about 15-20 minutes. Let sausage cool and cut into slices if links. You can also use ground sausage. Add sausage to the onions and mix well. Turn off heat.

When pizza crust has baked for 20 minutes, remove from oven. Spread tomato sauce over the crust, followed by sausage and onion mixture. Finish by grating Peccorino with a cheese grater over the pizza until it's well covered. When you get down to the last third of your cheese block, switch from finely grated to large shreds (amps up the cheese flavor and the presentation).

Place pizza back in oven and bake for another 15 minutes. Prepare to be dazzled!

Temptation Calling

2011-05-16T22:26:00.000-07:00

Anyone who says eating isn't a major part of the allure of traveling either has paralyzed tastebuds or isn't being truthful. Or they're simply the kind I've never been able to figure out: dispassionate about food in a take-it or leave-it sort of way.

Never have I been afflicted with that particular brand of apathy. I adore food and its varying temperatures, textures, colors, aromas, and flavors. Swan-dives into gluttony do me no favors, though. And my body knows the difference now. It doesn't enjoy being drugged anymore (actually, it never did, but it took a while for my mind and spirit to catch up). Also, I'm not a grateful wearer of denim, and we all know how little wiggle room there is where that iron-willed fabric is concerned.

At the same time, what's the point of travel and adventure if I eat exactly as I do at home? I love eating clean (no gluten or cow dairy) but when I'm on the Open Road, I tend to take in both the sights and the culinary wonders. Gluten, because of the way it bloats me and saps my energy, is avoided at all costs. Besides, even on the road there are rice, potato, and corn options in abundance. I make the occasional indulgence back into the realm of dairy, but it really has to be worth it (superior quality, imaginative presentation).

During the past month I've had back-to-back trips to Florida, Wisconsin, and Alabama. And I realized, as I had to tug a little harder to get my denim pants situated around my waistline the other day, that it was time to dial the indulgence back a few degrees.

In my quest for better health and living with more clarity, I've dropped 180 pounds along the way. And put a few rules in place from both ends of the spectrum: eating will be done for both pleasure and nutrition, and not to sledgehammer the living daylights out of unpleasant feelings. No food is off limits, but yes, Virginia, quantity does matter.

For example, last week at a seafood restaurant overlooking Mobile Bay, I knew before seeing the menu I'd be getting in one of my top ten favorites: fried seafood. But I ordered two vegetable sides with it and told the waitress to hold the fries. Anytime a menu has lentils (whether it's chick pea salad or black beans and rice) I order them for the fiber more than anything else. Salads as appetizers are a no-brainer. And my secret weapon? A steady stream of hot water or herbal tea throughout the meal. Anyone who has ever washed dishes by hand knows the mighty power steaming water has over a greasy plate.

These are all tricks I employ to make crossing over to the other side a little less impactful. During the past month I've moaned with pleasure over velvety crawfish bisque, a fluffy and decadent square of Tiramisu, Seafood Eggs Benedict (minus the English muffin), and Oysters Rockefeller. I enjoy it all with appreciation and awareness, don't eat until I'm shaking my head with regret, and always leave something behind on the plate...a small but significant gesture that I'm in charge of the food, not the other way around.

Always leaving something behind....

Inspite of the safeguards I put in place, it's easy, amazingly easy, to let things slide when traveling. Maybe it's the combination of the adrenaline of new territory, the stress-charged atmosphere at airports, and edible temptation everywhere that collude to deceive me. And speaking of airports (where I've spent a lot of time waiting lately), I realized I've been subtly operating under one delusion in particular: food eaten in airport terminals doesn't count. The calories exist in a hologram and don't really have a consequence. I'm in survival mode. I need a little extra comfort before the flight. The rationales are endless.

Last night on my way home from Mobile, Ala., I made a decision that meant my waiting time at the airport would quadruple: I volunteered to get bumped from my flight in exchange for an irresistible travel voucher that equals a free plane ticket. Instead of arriving home at 6:30 p.m., it would be 11:30 p.m. As I signed on the dotted line I felt the siren call of wanting comfort in the form of food beginning to wail. Then the ticket agent slid a meal voucher across the formica. All around me were fast food joints pushing burgers, tacos, sweet and sour pork, fried chicken, obscene cinnamon buns as mammoth as they were overly sweet, and ice cream (are you aware there are now cones made of cake?).

Believe it or not, with all the gorgeous fruits of my New Life, there are moments that I get frustrated and infuriated that I can't just dive back in...Sometimes I really do just want the sensation on my tongue....and the sedative effects of sugar and fat sliding through my body. Especially when I'm overly tired and missing home. Instead, I backed away from the food court, hopped on a moving floor and didn't look back till I got to my terminal. Which mercifully had a smoothie stand that sold packaged fresh fruit cup. Two containers of it were my dinner that night. I'd taken a stand against temptation and it felt glorious. Why fruit cup for dinner? I was virtually sedentary the entire day, and after a vegetable omelet and grits for breakfast, and nuts and dried fruit for lunch, I was hardly underfed.

There was more food I could have delved into in my back pack (my emergency supply of clean foods), but I knew it would have been mindless eating. So I pulled out another form of comfort I keep for such emergencies (the latest Town & Country) and dove in. My digestive track and denim pants both approved.

First Mini-Dress!

2011-05-07T11:25:00.000-07:00

All I wanted to do was buy a stove top espresso maker. That was the plan as I walked into the mall yesterday, smack in between the busy-ness of touching down at the airport after nearly two weeks away from home, and a three-hour drive to New Jersey for a Spiritual Retreat at the sanctuary of the one and only Masha Penson.

I get a little edgy if I don't have espresso in the morning, brewed to the specifications to which I've grown accustomed: the steaming contents of a size medium Bialetti pot, four tablespoons of light cream, and 3/4 tablespoon of honey. Pure Bliss. I'd been ten days without this morning elixir and could take no more, so in I popped to Colonie Center and the Coffee Beanery, where they sell great equipment and accessories.

Sorry, espresso always gets me off on a tangent. So yesterday afternoon, I'm sailing out of Colonie Center with my shiny steel espresso pot and making a beeline for the New York State Thruway when I was stopped cold in my tracks by an orange dress hanging in the entry way of an eyebrow-threading boutique adorably named Arch. They specialize in brow threading and Mehndi tattoos so it was surprising there was clothing at all, but the orange work of art with black embroidery literally shouted to me across the corridor, where ironically, I was bypassing one of my former passions: those hot and sticky cinnamon buns the size of doorstops. Or as I like to call them, the binge-eater's version of shooting up.

Even before pulling the dress off its silver hanger I could tell it was one of those above-the-knee varietals ...the blithe and airy dresses I'd only seen on other women. That's when the heart started racing. Was the world ready for this? Was I? Before I'd fully yanked the apricot-colored fabric all the way over my head, my inner-knowing kicked in, and I realized I'd be walking out onto public asphalt wearing the little orange dress. Good thing, because it fit perfectly...something I wasn't sure would actually happen after 10 days of semi-recreational eating (an occupational hazard of the travel writer).

I loved the way it looked and felt on me, but this was a MINI dress. The thought of walking out from behind the black velvet dressing room curtain terrified me. I first poked my head out, then the rest of me...eyes fixed on the boutique owner and the woman she was waiting on. Uncensored first-few-seconds-of-viewing reactions were what I was after. If they looked aghast or tried stifling a laugh, that would be my sign to 86 Operation First Mini Dress.

But there was no suppressed laughter, and I detected no flashes of disgust or pity. I realize it's wise to take a salewoman's oohing and aahhing with grain of salt, but Sarah either really loved the little orange dress on me or has missed her calling as an Academy Award caliber actor. Besides, every fiber in me was pulsating with joy. I loved everything about the dress, from the color and embroidery detail, to the price, and the way the lightness of the fabric danced across my skin.

Some of you regular readers know that an ongoing theme of my transformation has been that of visibility. Other ways of putting that include allowing myself to feel vulnerable, making frequent trips out of my comfort zone, and confronting fears for the sheer challenge of it (like skulling, parasailing, or letting a man get to know me).

For many years I was hidden. Literally and figuratively. Carrying the burden of nearly 200 pounds of excess weight plus the unquantifiable emotional pain that accompanies it has a tendency to wreak havoc on your Life force. I don't know if in my former state Life avoided me or I avoided Life. I do know now that Life responds to how I approach it. When I started paying attention to who I really am, stopped drugging myself with food, and started deconstruction on the wall of protection, Life responded with Amazing people and situations...some of whom seemed to be literally airlifted into my lap. Without me orchestrating it. That's the beauty of Life and its responsive nature.

So how could I not (grain of saleswoman salt and all) take this dress and love it? Yes, I was not entirely comfortable walking out the door wearing it. My breathing was guarded and shallow as I sensed wind and sun on my knees...I may have even looked nervously around the parking lot to see if there was a lurking cop. I felt like I'd just broken a major law of proper conduct. But I kept on walking. You know why? Beause I can't remember the last time I said no, turned back, and not taken a challenge by the hand. So why start now?

Year Three

2011-04-16T13:11:00.000-07:00

It was three years ago I made my annual pilgramage to Virginia to visit my sister and drink in the newness of another Spring as the earth awakened with pale yellow daffodils, cherry blossoms the color of cotton candy, and technicolor tulips, all amid the musical notes from the Robins as they prepped for impending parenthood.

There was something else awakening in April 2009. Me. I was four months into a life transition so profound, I knew that to attempt to put it into words would be a futile effort. So I said nothing to my sister as I arrived at her doorstep after a ten-hour car ride. But I didn't have to say anything. 'Wow' was the first syllable out of her mouth. Dory last saw me over the Christmas holiday, but even in that short time, the physical changes had dug their roots deep enough for them to be, in her words, 'dramatic!'

Like the nearly 200 pounds of excess weight I carried for 20 years, the 40 pounds I'd dropped since January was merely a symptom of the underlying cause. In this case it was a state of peace and balance that shifted me from the inside out, making binge-eating not nearly as necessary as it once was. I cleared away the emotional debris and demons that had tormented me for so long. The short list, in no particular order: a crippling reflex to people-please, a toxic job, and an unhappy and unfulfilling relationship with a man who was kind and good-hearted, but not right for me as a life partner.

What I'm trying to say, and what I ultimately discovered after years of chasing my tail in circles is, that attempting to solve such deep issues by focusing on calorie-counting, fat grams, food combining, and all the other dieting smoke and mirror diversions was one of the biggest time and energy wasters of my life. Because all that did was direct me away from the throbbing core of my real issues and into a safe-haven of a La-La Land where I could float obliviously above the turmoil and pretend that all I really needed to do was give Medifast another try. Problem solved. Right?

Well, I'll give you a hint. I've dieted since the age of 9. Regained 100 pounds back twice. And weighed in excess of 300 pounds for 20 years. Corralling food groups into a particular order, or heirarchy, numeric quantity, or timetable did nothing but keep me stuck.

In some Magical way, as only Life can, Life knew I was ready in January 2009. Because those 20 years of being a Big Girl weren't just spent eating. There was plenty of therapy, 12-step meetings, journaling, crying, and ultimately laughing, as I discovered my worth as a human being had nothing to do with the numbers on the scale. That was a major spiritual lesson I had to learn...and quite possibly the very reason I incarnated where and when I did and I wouldn't trade it for anything.

But Life stepped in that particular Jaunary (see the YouTube video on the previous blog for more details) by putting situations and people in my path to wake me up, make me see I could no longer live in a state of denial about the pain I was in, and last but not least, putting two Angels on either side of me to walk me through the withdrawls of trance-eating and the foods I'd been addicted to for so long.

Their names? Dallas Page and Terri Lange. Both of them I consider to be two of the most honest, kind-hearted, and physically fit people I've met. And believe me, in all my years of grasping at gurus, saviors, diets, and other straws, I encountered truckloads of charletans. Dallas and Terri walk the walk. Thanks to YRG and clean eating (no gluten or dairy) Dallas looks and moves better than he did in his 20's, and Terri has kept her weight off for ten years.

They helped me for sure, but the key ingredient was, I was READY. Ready to take a look at my life, ready to put a few healthy boundaries on my habits and food choices, and ready to listen to their advice. I didn't look at the road ahead. I didn't really care about the road ahead. I only knew I wanted my Life back. The life I never thought could be possible, but very secretly longed for. I didn't care how fast the weight came off, only that the changes that I made felt natural enough to live with longterm.

I told no one. In my mind that would have implied I was beginning another diet. And those for me have invariably had disastrous endings. But that spring day I arrived at my sister's doorstep, the transfomation was chugging, full and steady steam like a freight train. I felt it. She saw it. We rejoiced in it.

Three years later, I'm back for another visit at Dory's Virginia Shangri-la. The springs blossoms are exquisitely beautiful and so is my Life. Like my mentor, Dallas, I look and feel better than I did in my 20's and I'll be 47 this year. My intent is to walk a similar path as my other mentor, Terri, and keep in balance long-term. I know it's doable. I know obsessing on it is useless, and I know that remaining in a state that centers around self-love, gratitude, compassion for others, and feeling with awareness is the key.

I Thank God everyday for the Miracles of Spring...and of Life. Keep your eyes open for Miracles...they are not only everywhere...they're normal.

Hope Springs Eternal

2011-03-21T09:46:00.001-07:00

It's official: Spring has arrived, and more importantly, there is ALWAYS Hope:

Rising and Living

2011-03-15T23:15:00.000-07:00

Two friends and the e-mails they sent last week inspire this entry. My friend Joan (also an amazing photographer www.forwardvisionphotography.com) was digging through her archives and sent over this Mardi Gras photo which sent me back to 2003 when I was waist-deep (at least) in denial. And not just over my size…that was only the beginning. I put lots of energy into looking anywhere but in the direction of my present reality. Specifically, I didn’t want to look at or deal with in any way two things in my life which really needed immediate attention: a career that centered around a stressful, negative, and emotionally debilitating work environment, and a 15 year relationship that had dragged on for about 14 years too long.

My conscious mind was glib about the whole thing, playing its usual smoke and mirror tricks that I could go on living the way I was, life wasn’t all that bad, I wasn’t all that unhappy. But on a gut level I knew I was fooling myself. Not surprisingly, I often told my gut to shut the f*#@k up back then. And wow did I pay a price. Not just in pounds, but in sadness, frustration, and a large part of my life spent being nearly lifeless.

I may appear cheerful in this photo but it was my smile, not the green rhinestone mask that was the real disguise. Looking back, this position of passivity, of being overwhelmed by my personal life, was a big part of why I gave up and accepted that I’d be 300 pounds + for the rest of my life. I would need food to dull the pain. If the pain wasn’t going anywhere, then neither was the food. And I made sure I had elaborate supplies of it at all times, just in case the anesthesia started to suddenly wear off. It wasn’t the perfect plan, but it was the only plan I had for dealing with life and all its complexities.

And then Life (as it often, and mercifully does) pulled the rug out from underneath my carefully self-constructed comfort zone. The job got more and more toxic, which turned out to be manna from heaven in the long run because I finally gathered the courage to permanently evacuate and never look back. That was seven years ago and it was truly a turning point in my belief system, a declaration of what I did and didn’t deserve.

Now about the other half of that equation…I knew when I left the job at Misery Central I still had one more major stone to heave off of my chest, but I chose to marinate in denial for another five years, thinking that if I just looked the other way, I could get away with it. Life once again met me more than halfway, shifting the tectonic plates of my complacency and catapulting me into a face-to-face position with a mirror I could no longer look away from. And the realization: I was half alive at best, bound by the lies I was living.

The day after Joan sent me the photo of the ghost of Mardi Gras past, an e-mail from my friend Neal (an amazing writer) arrived that contained a reference to Lazarus being raised from the dead (John 11:44), and walking out of the tomb bound in grave clothes…even his eyes were wrapped in cloth. Neal and Joan had know way of knowing how amazingly their e-mails related to one another…but someone did.

In celebration of my own rising out of the grave that was once my habitat, I took some fresh Mardi Gras photos this year. The physical changes are the most obvious, but I’m different in so many ways that will never be tangible, but I feel them. In every moment of every day, I feel them.

Does YRG Really Work?

2011-03-01T09:46:00.000-08:00

Well....you tell me.

Below is me on my first plane ride as a non-seatbelt-extension-wearing citizen. It was late September 2009, 125 pounds lighter 9 months after beginning my YRG Journey. Truly a euphoric moment, and you can see the Joy radiating off of me, emanating from every pore. Sure it's great to look better, but the sense of physical and emotional freedom is priceless. And as my fitness guru, Diamond Dallas Page says, nothing tastes as good as Excellent HEALTH.

Fast forward to February 24, 2011, approximately two years after I started doing YRG, stopped drugging myself with food, and started paying attention to who I really Am. I'd flown several times since September 2009, but for the heck of it, whipped out my camera and asked my seat mate to snap a shot - I wanted forensic evidence of just how much leftover belt there is now - I'm still reeling. YRG for LIFE!

Not Your Average "Before" Photograph

2011-02-17T08:27:00.000-08:00

This Is Not Your Average ‘Before’ Photograph
Or
Get Up And Dance – No Matter Who’s Watching!

Note: This blog reads better with the following Cheryl Lynn groove playing

Many of you have seen this now-infamous ‘before’ shot of me at a 1996 wedding. It’s pretty clear from the angle and the billowing dress that I weigh in excess of 300 pounds. Because of that inescapable fact and other less obvious reasons, the spark of my life force is unmistakably muted in this photograph. Carrying that amount of excess baggage in the physical sense siphoned an enormous amount of energy from me. And then there was the impetus for the physical baggage in the first place: I had stopped paying attention to who I really am, what I really want, how I really want to live.

Quite simply: I believed Happiness was out of my reach. And since it was meant for others and not me, I ate to dull the emptiness and dissatisfaction. But it still thundered within me. That’s the thing about addiction; it doesn’t really take care of the problem. But eating was the only tool I had at the time, and as you can see, I went with it.

On the surface, this photograph of me looking lifeless at age 30 in a prototypical Mother of The Bride dress seems like the cautionary tale that most ‘before’ photographs are.

But this snapshot in time is far more than a warning. It’s a tribute to the possibility of conquering odds. Swimming upstream against the majority is where my transformation really began. Not in January 2009, when I began the process of releasing weight.

This upstream voyage was a crucial part of my learning on the path I walked of pain, so-called failures, and even Joy.

Believe it or not, there was Joy involved for me at the wedding reception of my friend Bill Richmond and his wife, Tracy. I may not have loved where I was physically, but I was in the middle of a very important life lesson and without it, I wouldn’t be writing this blog entry today at half my size.

I was speeding full-throttle into the unknown territory of Loving myself no mater what the scale said. Anyone who’s ever spent even a little time in the United States knows what a radical and courageous and outrageous move this was on my part. Look at me. By every standard measured against me by the society I was raised in, I should have been at home with the blinds down in a fetal position.

Believe me, for a long time, I bought into the delusion that people of size aren’t quite fully human. There was no major moment of epiphany…just gradual increments of awakening to the Truth. And when I began to see and more importantly, feel the Truth about the unchangeable nature of my worth, it became easier and easier to question the messages from outside ‘authorities.’

I began getting more and more comfortable with something: A flicker of hope at my core that would not die. Lit from a mysterious source, an unknown place, it remained intact, even after all the years spent trying to kill it. It emanated this clear message: ‘I Deserve.’

I was far from being in a state of happiness and balance, but I was on my way. That’s the magic message I want to give you today. Start right where you are. I did.

What this photograph doesn’t reveal is the rest of what unfolded in that ballroom of the Saratoga Springs Holiday Inn: The DJ let one of my favorite and most life-affirming disco songs of all time rip.

It’s pulsating bass called me as I sat there, safely anchored in my chair. It called me again as I hesitated. I didn’t love how I looked. I was way bigger than anyone in the room. How would me up there on the dance floor look? What would they think? And then I realized that getting out there and being in those few moments of joy while this amazing song played mattered more than the doubts. So I did it. In front of everyone.

I didn’t wait for the magic moment of looking a certain way. My transformation had already taken root and it got a major growth spurt that day on the dance floor as I took my place under the glitter ball, arms open wide to whatever lay ahead.

Just for you, I’ve included a long version of the song, hopefully you have it playing loud. And now you still have time to get up and dance. No matter who’s watching.

Photograph:

Joan Lentini

www.forwardvisionphotography.com

Dinner Tonight

2011-02-12T18:54:00.000-08:00

Thank God for Eggplant.

Its chameleon-like nature has rescued me on more than one occasion. (See the 2010 post for Eggplant Latkes)
http://staceymorris-hungryforthetruth.blogspot.com/2010/01/when-going-gets-toughthe-tough-make.html

Tonight, the urge for a salty bag of potato chips struck, as it does from time to time.

Here's what I did instead:

Meal rounded out with homemade vegetable broth and brown rice. And a few hours later, an egg white protein drink with raw cacao powder, 'cause I was cravin' chocolate.

Yeah, OK, it's winter, I've got the blues, and I'm going through some stuff. So in between sessions of feeling the feelings (ignore that one at your own risk), I eat well without taking a wrecking ball to my Health.

Bon Appetit and Love Yourself Well

♥

Hungry For Protection

2011-01-30T17:35:00.000-08:00

Hungry For Protection

Or...

Vulnerability Is Power

Inverse as it sounds, it’s true. Vulnerability is Power.

File this blog under the category of underlying reasons addictive behaviors spiral out of control, because it is feelings of vulnerability that have sent me there more often than anything else.

Vulnerability is not something I’m comfortable with. I’ve always considered it a weakness to be avoided. Actually, more accurately, I’ve spent much of my Energy hiding the reality that part of the human condition includes sometimes being in a state of unprotected openness.

I’m realizing with more and more clarity that running from this open-hearted way of being has done me no favors.

As Brene Brown says in the above lecture, vulnerability is probably the most feared and misunderstood of all emotional states in the spectrum of human experience. There tends to be deep shame associated with feeling it. But when I give vulnerability its rightful place at the table, I suddenly allow myself to experience life more fully, more whole-heartedly as Brown says, because it’s actually not possible to fully experience Joy, Creativity, Love, and Belonging without owning up to at least a flash or two of vulnerability.

Of all the above benefits that come from admitting vulnerability, the one that most grabbed at my core was Belonging. Having spent most of my life as an outcast, I convinced myself that I didn’t care about Belonging. Didn’t care if people accepted me or approved of me. I thought I came up with the perfect answer: act as if I don’t need others, avoid trust and emotional intimacy, and I’ve given myself the gift of instant protection.

Not letting my vulnerability see the light of day was all about keeping the perceived predators at bay. I was truly hungry for protection. Hungry to be kept from being hurt. If I can’t control the outcome of something that really matters to me, why bother? But I’m beginning to accept that living life fully and with my entire heart in the picture means taking risks.

So what’s my safety net now that I’ve agreed to drop the illusion of being protected? In some ways, admitting that there never really is a safety net is about as good as it gets in terms of protection. There’s also a growing knowing that I’m going to be OK no matter what Life has ahead for me, no matter what obstacle courses of experiential wonders Divine Design has laid out, unbeknownst to me. Ups, downs, and those unexciting plateau’s are unavoidable parts of it. I’d love to be able to wave a wand over my fears and have them disappear, but nobody ever really grows in fairy tales…ever notice that?

Those of you who read HFTT regularly know I’ve been very open about why I had the wall of weight around me for so many years. One of the main reasons was keeping men at a safe distance (and trust me, it works like nothing else). Only deep down, that’s not what I really wanted. Evolution and emotional onion layers being peeled away revealed something unmovable at my center: a desire to Love and be Loved. Even after decades of telling myself it doesn’t matter, there it was, still living and breathing, after all that time in lockdown.

As Brown points out, emotions can’t be numbed selectively. When I douse out vulnerability, anxiety, and fear, the Joy, Excitement, and Happiness get washed away with it. So what’s the worst that can happen? I don’t get Loved in return? The outcome differs from my expectations? That has to be survivable.

Who knows, if I stick with this new game plan, feeling vulnerable may one day feel natural…perhaps even powerful. Thank God. Because I’m discovering I like the feeling of Belonging.

Wide Open...At Long Last

Corn Meal Porridge

2011-01-26T08:04:00.000-08:00

Here’s what rocked my world a few mornings ago and I’m attributing the craving in part to the Bob Marley song I can’t stop listening to at the moment. The one where he sentimentally recalls cooking cornmeal porridge over an open fire in Kingston. That plus an unbelievably ripe banana tipped the scales of making it for breakfast recently.

So easy. And pure, unmitigated comfort.

In homage to Bob Marley, I made a tropical version:

Tropical Cornmeal Porridge

Cornmeal

Almond Milk

1 dark, gooey-ripe banana

1 wire whisk

Follow instructions on the label for 1 serving, making sure to whisk often so it stays smooth. When the cornmeal and milk are thickened, add the banana and keep whisking. No need to precut. If it's super ripe it will dissolve without much effort.

Bon Appetit!

Forget Resolutions - Set Some Goals!

2011-01-02T03:50:00.000-08:00

In the immortal words of my fitness guru, Diamond Dallas Page: Life is a fleeting moment. Forget about resolutions - set some goals instead!

He helped me do just that two years ago. The result? I'm down 175 pounds, in the best shape of my life, and wearing color again. Man it feels great to be going into a New Year at my 8th grade weight!

What You Didn't See On The News

2010-12-14T08:29:00.000-08:00

My city's NBC affiliate did a wonderful job in profiling my transformation from fat to fit, underscoring the importance of change needing to occur from the inside out. However, they left out a crucial element to my story: the name of the 'long-distance mentor' who helped me out of the hole. So here it is, officially:

DIAMOND DALLAS PAGE.

I've got a great story, there's no doubt. But in between this

and this

There was this:

No one makes it out of the hole of addiction and destructive behavior on their own. I tried various diets, gurus, self-help books, and over-the-counter bottles of speed on and off, for 20-plus years. My turning point was finding Diamond Dallas Page via a Carnie Wilson TV appearance in January 2009. He helped transform Carnie, and I knew in my gut whatever he did with her would work for me.

I don't mean to imply that all it takes is the magic guru or mentor to make everything all better. That's just more dieting-mentality-delusion. Dallas was very up front about it being a total lifestyle change from the inside out. He's a no-nonsense kind of guy but is there in spades with support if he knows you're owning the changes and taking them seriously.

I was ready to finally come clean about the reasons I drugged myself with food. And therefore ready to take his suggestions about eating clean and healthy and tailor them into something that felt natural enough to live with long-term. Giving up gluten and cow dairy have changed my body like nothing else. I was also ready to get off the chaise lounge and pop Dallas's YRG DVD's into the VCR. Even at 345 pounds I was able to modify the moves he created of mixed martial arts, resistance training, and cardio to align with my ability at the time. http://www.yrgfitness.com/

During that first year especially, he and Terri Lange (his first YRG pupil) guided me through the choppy waters of withdrawals from the foods I'd become addicted to over the years. Without their guidance, I would not have had the focus or the information to make it out of the woods.

Since that is the core thread of truth in my transformation story, I feel compelled to let the world know what got clipped in the editing room last week: There would be no dramatic 'woman loses 170-pounds' story without Diamond Dallas Page. Period. I brought willingness to the table, he provided the YRG to strengthen my body, a clean way of eating to heal my body, and the emotional rocket fuel to get me to believe it was indeed possible at a point in my life where I'd lost all hope.

You're the man DDP...and you always will be.

It Is Possible

2010-12-13T09:34:00.000-08:00

...or as I also like to say...
never, EVER, EVER
give up on yourself:

Hungry For The Truth: G-Free For The Holidays

2010-12-12T12:20:00.000-08:00

Hungry For The Truth: G-Free For The Holidays: "Just in time for Christmas party season, here it is, a little collection of recipes that prove you don't have to chuck the clean eating whil..."

G-Free For The Holidays

2010-12-09T18:09:00.000-08:00

Just in time for Christmas party season, here it is, a little collection of recipes that prove you don't have to chuck the clean eating whilst hopping the party circuit. As some of you know, I have fired 170 pounds from my life and going gluten-and cow-dairy-free is a big reason why it happened. When I gave up those two things, my life and body changed amazingly. But the best part is I did not have to compromise flavor and pleasure. It's totally possible. So here's to living it up and loving life.

Pavlova

I can't take credit for this masterpiece. This is how Pavlova is served at Balthazar in New York

http://www.balthazarny.com/

This elegant dessert made of baked egg whites (merengue) is light and divine. Traditional recipes call for it to be slathered in whipped cream. I either top with fresh fruit or use a vegan whipped cream.

3 egg whites

1 1/4 cups white sugar

2 tablespoons water

3 teaspoons cornstarch

1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 teaspoon distilled white vinegar

1/8 teaspoon salt

Preheat oven to 275. Grease a cookie sheet, line it with parchment paper and sprinkle a little water over paper.

In a large glass or metal mixing bowl, beat egg whites until foamy. Gradually add sugar, continuing to beat until stiff peaks form. Beat in water, then mix in cornstarch, vanilla, vinegar and salt.

Pour entire meringue mixture onto the center of the pan. Pavlova will spread as it bakes.

Bake in the preheated oven for 45 minutes. Turn oven off and leave Pavlova in the oven until cold. Turn upside-down onto plate and top with fresh fruit and whipped cream.

Chocolate-Covered Marshmallows

So pretty, I almost didn't want to dip 'em

Works in progress as the single-dipping dries...

et voila! Double-dipped chocolate-marshmallow bliss

Whenever I'm in New York, I stop by the Gourmet Garage to load up on sugar-free marshmallows from France. The fact that they're white and pastel-pink makes them even more alluring. Got the idea a few days ago to dunk them in a chocolate ganache. Perfect as a party favor when going out this season or to serve guests. The recipe below is for one...had a sweet-tooth craving today...what can I say? Enlarge recipe as needed. This one has no sugar or dairy - Enjoy!

1 square (1 oz.) bitter (baking) chocolate
3-4 TBS. almond or coconut milk
4 marshmallows (organic or sugar-free)

In small saucepan, heat chocolate and milk, whisking regularly to keep it from lumping. When chocolate is thoroughly blended with the milk, remove from heat and whisk again. Dunk and coat marshmallows one at a time and place on a plate. Refrigerate for 15 minutes. Remove from refrigerator and dunk again (also known in the candy-making biz as double-dipping). Place on plate and refrigerate or leave at room temperature. Chocolate will solidify on its own, one way or another.

Charlotte Berwind's Baked Brie

My friend Charlotte is like most caterer's I know: As big-hearted as she is talented. What is it about that profession attracting only stellar souls? Just saw Charlotte's baked brie recipe on her blog and I'm totally revamping this to fit my gluten- and dairy-free preferences. I know, you're wondering how baked brie could possibly be dairy-free? You can exhale...as far as I know there is no soy version of brie on the market...yet. When I say dairy-free I mean cow-dairy free and last year, dicovered a superb goat brie available in my hometown. In other words, if it's found in Glens Falls, N.Y. (land of the no Trader Joe's, Whole Foods, Costco, the list goes on) you can find it anywhere!

Diamond Dallas Page (the fitness guru who helped me fire 170 pounds) urged me to get off cow dairy and gluten and I'm eternally grateful. There were some roadbumps at first...afterall, I HAD become a little addicted. Now I don't even miss either. When I do occasionally eat cheddar or American, it tastes positively weird.

The goat brie I use is made by Woolwich Dairy. If you can find a goat brie at your farmers market, even better:
http://www.woolwichdairy.com/products.aspx?x=lwikHt29djFe7s8764t6fWk7Zrf%2F1MBI0aMDI11dZ2Y%3D

Now, follow the Divine Ms. Berwind's recipe below, substituting goat brie and g-free bread...and prepare for some gastronomic fireworks:

http://cbfinefoods.blogspot.com/2010/11/ahhhhh-finally-baked-brie-recipe.html

Thank You Charlotte!
♥

Stuffed Mushrooms

Photo: Joan K. Lentini

http://www.forwardvisionphotography.com/

This is an appetizer that traditionally calls for copious amounts of breadcrumbs. I don’t use them in this recipe, although I could, because there are g-free breadcrumbs on the market (or you can make your own). I wanted the flavor of the Peccorino (a sheep’s milk cheese that tastes very similar to Parmesan) to come through. Plus, fewer ingredients is always simpler…and who doesn’t want that this time of year?

1 large package of large mushrooms, suitable for stuffing (20-24), washed and stemmed
1 pound ground sweet sausage
½ cup pre-shredded Peccorino cheese
1 teaspoon dried sage
2 teaspoons dried oregano
Light (not extra virgin) olive oil or grape seed oil for frying

Roughly chop or dice the mushroom stems. In a medium skillet, cook sausage and chopped stems over medium heat, crumbling with a wooden spoon or spatula as it cooks. Drain thoroughly and put cooked meat mixture in a large mixing bowl.
Preheat oven to 325 degrees.

Using same skillet, place over medium heat and pour in enough oil to cover the bottom of the pan. Take washed mushroom caps and sauté them on both sides till lightly browned. You may have to do this in batches if all mushrooms don’t fit in the pan at once.
While mushrooms are browning, add the cheese and herbs to the sausage and mix thoroughly. When mushrooms are browned, place them in a rectangular baking pan that has been sprayed with non-stick cooking spray. Using a spoon, fill each mushroom with sausage mixture. If there’s leftover filling, refrigerate in airtight container. It’s great in omelets or tacos. Bake mushrooms at 325 for 20 minutes. Serve immediately. Note: there is no salt in this recipe because the Peccorino cheese is extremely pungent…adding salt would overdo it.

The following is one of my favorite dessert recipes that I’ve adapted to suit my personal taste - as in using less sugar that is called for. (I find most baking recipes are too heavy-handed with it). No matter who tries this chocolate-wonder dessert, they invariably end up clamoring for more…and for the recipe. I discovered this symphonic overture for Flourless Chocolate Cake on one of my favorite recipe sites of all time: http://glutenfreegoddess.blogspot.com/ . Karina Allrich truly is a Goddess and has made me one ecstatic gluten-free gastronome.

Here’s the link to Karina’s recipe:

http://glutenfreegoddess.blogspot.com/2007/01/flourless-chocolate-cake_11.html

© Gluten-Free Goddess
For my version of her recipe, I substituted baking (bitter) chocolate for regular dark (Belgian) chocolate. Bitter chocolate + light and dark sugar = ecstasy! So herewith is my version of Karina's recipe for:

Flourless Chocolate Cake

16 ounces baking (bitter) chocolate (two eight-ounce boxes)
1 cup organic brown sugar (light or dark)
½ cup organic sugar
1 cup hot espresso or very strong coffee
2 sticks room-temperature unsalted butter
2 tablespoons cocoa powder
8 large organic free-range eggs at room temperature, blended until smooth with a hand beater or immersion blender
1 tablespoon vanilla (bourbon vanilla if you have it)
Preheat oven to 350

I’ve mixed the ingredients two ways: Karina’s food processor method and stovetop method below:
In a large saucepan, melt butter and chocolate together over medium heat, whisking occasionally. When chocolate is mostly dissolved into the butter, gradually whisk in sugars, alternating with hot coffee. Turn heat off and keep whisking. At this point, the chocolate batter may get alarmingly dense and thick, don't panic! Just keep whisking as best you can. (The addition of the eggs will make everything OK) When mixture is completely smooth, add eggs and vanilla and whisk until smooth.
Spray a spring form (cheesecake) pan with olive oil cooking spray. Cover the bottom of the pan with foil to safeguard any leaks. Pour chocolate cake mixture into pan. Optional: place cake pan in a square baking dish filled with a few inches of water. Bake for 30-50 minutes. I’ve found the cake is done after about 30 minutes, baked on the bottom rack. Check after 30 minutes to assess if you need more time. Cake should be firm in the center and be slightly pulling away from the edges of the pan. Don’t over bake or the cake will be dry and chalky. A few cracks on the surface are OK. Baking in a water bath will help keep it moist.
Cool covered for 30 to 60 minutes before refrigerating. May be served chilled or at room temperature. Crown vegan whipped cream (based from soy, coconut milk, or cashews).

Chex Mix

Photo: Joan K. Lentini

http://www.forwardvisionphotography.com/

This perennial Christmas party favorite is inherently gluten-free (if you skip the Wheat Chex and Cheerios). If you really want to keep it real, there are g-free pretzels and g-free cereals out there that mimic Cheerios. Otherwise, this simple version works beautifully and no one realizes it’s a g-free delicacy. The recipe is deliberately gigantic. This can be refrigerated and brought out in batches for different occasions throughout the season.

1 box Rice Chex
1 box Corn Chex
1-½ cups chopped walnuts
2 sticks unsalted butter
1 teaspoon seasoned salt or Adobo
1 TBS. Sweet paprika
½ TBS. Sage
1 teaspoon white pepper

Preheat oven to 325 degrees

Melt butter in saucepan over medium low heat until melted and bubbly. Add salt, paprika, sage, and pepper and mix thoroughly. Turn heat off and leave on burner. Pour cereal into two separate large baking pans and spread out evenly. Divide the walnuts into two portions, sprinkling each portion into each tray of cereal. Using a small ladle, evenly drizzle melted butter over the cereal until it’s as evenly coated as possible. Lift trays and gently toss cereal to sift and distribute then place in oven and bake for 15-20 minutes. Remove from oven and cool completely before serving or storing in airtight containers.

Everyone Should Be This Lucky

2010-12-02T19:57:00.000-08:00

On the right hand column on this blog, you’ll notice three categories. I decided to break the contents of my ongoing journey down into three major aspects of the human experience…and to underscore that paying attention to only one usually results in imbalance.

The question I’m asked most frequently regarding dropping 170 pounds is ‘what do you eat?’ Sometimes people demand to know my food intake to the letter in hopes that the weight will melt off, and so will the problems. I’ve been at this a long time and have learned the solution is a multifaceted one: food choices, physical exertion, feeling the feelings, finding things other than French fries to center me and make me feel calm.

There’s no one answer and it’s truly a mosaic, and one of the most important jeweled elements of it are relationships. Specifically, choosing healthy ones. This has been a work in progress for 20+ years. Getting good at it has progressed in tandem with my rising self esteem.

Having a life in balance means having relationships that are affirming and nurturing. As author and motivational Marc Mero is fond of saying: 'Friends are like elevators...they either take you up or take you down"

I make it a point to surround myself with people who are respectful, supportive, honest, and who genuinely wish me well. I may not live in the country’s most affluent zip code, but where my personal (and business...they count just as much) relationships are concerned, I’m one Wealthy Woman.

Case in point: my friend Sally Longo. She has a heart of solid gold and also happens to be a caterer with formidable culinary skills. A major score for me is being invited to one of her parties, or just a simple girlfriends dinner. Sally knows I eat gluten-free and although I’m fine with bringing g-free options along for the ride when I'm invited to dinner, she doesn’t give it a second thought to create a sumptuous, g-free meal fit for a pair of food-loving Queens. Now how great a friend is that?

The dinner below that Sally created one winter evening had me fanning myself in delight. Every ingredient was sublime…from the crispy planks of bacon in the spinach salad and the velvety mashed rutabaga, to the meatloaf that oozed steaming rivulets of tamarind glaze (chef Suvir Saran’s gorgeous recipe http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/030734150X/smallfarms-20 ).

Sally is also a cookbook author and her fantastic collection of recipes from her 20 years as a caterer can be found at http://www.amazon.com/Aunt-Sallys-Adirondack-Kitchen-Cookbook/dp/1604028645 .

So here’s to beautifully set tables, food made with Love, and the thoughtfulness of friends!

One of Sally's salad's...fully loaded

Chef and cookbook author Suvir Saran's famous Tamarind-Glazed Meatloaf

www.suvir.com

How creative is this? Mashed rutabega - surprisingly delicious and slightly sweet

Dessert was g-free cake. At first it was frosting-free, then Sally had a lightbulb moment and returned from her basement warehouse with a giant jar of Nutella. It was the perfect, creamy touch.

The artist and her masterpieces...including the table setting

Sally and I sharing a laugh at a catered book signing with Kim Sunee, author of the best-selling memoir, "Trail of Crumbs." (www.kimsunee.com )

Thanksgiving: G-Free, Dairy-Free, and Pain-Free...I Swear

2010-11-21T18:29:00.000-08:00

A little double-entendre with the pain-free promise: The recipes below are good enough to serve to anyone. They contain texture, body, flavor, and yes, fat. And without the f-word, food has no flavor. Now who wants that at Thanksgiving? Thank GOD the fat-free revolution died a quiet death sometime in the 90's. What a disaster.

Maybe your holiday guests are on board with gluten and dairy-free dining. Maybe they're not at all. It's up to you if you want to reveal the secret: the menu below is clean as a whistle. So you can indulge, go back for more than one plate, pile it high. and you won't be horizontal when dinner's over. That was always my post-Thanksgiving position...and there was no choice involved. My poor, abused stomach. It wasn't just battered from quantity, but all the offensive substances it found so difficult to digest, namely gluten and milk products. I have a sympathetic memory as I write this, of the dull throb in my gut. It lasted for hours after a holiday meal. Hours. Not anymore. Last year was my first test. I made it a gluten-free and milkless celebration. And guess what? Afterwards, I felt like dancing all night. This year I probably will.

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone ♥

The first recipe is from the one and only Angella Cole, personal trainer, extraordinary baker and cook, nutrition consultant, and author of the forthcoming "My Picky Eaters" cookbook which will be packed with gluten- and dairy-free recipes for kids and adults. In the meantime, visit http://www.mypickyeaters.com/ .

ANGELLA COLE'S SPICED ORGANIC BUTTERNUT SQUASH SOUP

1 LARGE BUTTERNUT SQUASH, PEELED AND SEEDED
CHILI OIL ( OPTIONAL) SEASON TO TASTE
SALT & PEPPER
LEMON PEPPER
BASIL
ITALIAN SEASONINGS
1/2 FINELY SLICED RED OINON
2 PINTS VEGETABLE BROTH
1/2 CUP SILKEN TOFU
1/2 CUP WATER

PREHEAT OVEN to 400 DEGREES. CHOP AND PEEL SQUASH SQUASH, PLACE IN ROASTING TIN, DRIZZLE WITH CHILI OIL. THEN SEASON WITH SALT, PEPPER, & LEMON PEPPER.

WHILE SQUASH IS ROASTING FOR 1 HOUR, SAUTEE ONIONS IN A LITTLE OLIVE OIL. USE ANY OTHER SEASONINGS YOU LIKE. (I USE MORE LEMON PEPPER, BASIL, ITALIAN
SEASONINGS AND SALT & PEPPER TO TASTE).

WHEN SQUASH HAS COOKED, LET COOL A BIT BEFORE SCOOPING 'MEAT' OUT OF HTE SKIN AND INTO BLENDER. ADD VEGGIE BROTH AND SILKEN TOFU. BLEND UNTIL SMOOTH AND POUR INTO A MEDIUM SAUCEPAN TO REHEAT OVER MEDIUM HEAT, STIRRING OCCASIONALLY.
SEASON WELL AND ADD SAUTEED ONIONS ON TOP!

FOR A QUICKER VERSION U CAN PEEL AND STEAM SQUASH FOR 15-2O MINS ..DRAIN WATER AND PUT IN BLENDER AND PUREE WITH SILKEN TOFU AND FOLLOW REMAINING DIRECTIONS AND

SEASONINGS.. ( ADD A LITTLE CINNAMON OR NUTMEG OPTIONAL)
ENJOY!
ANG

Mashed Potatoes

Inherently g-free, you can make mashed potatoes dairy-free by using the following instead of milk: room-temperature chevre, chicken or vegetable stock, rice, almond, coconut, or soymilk.

1 five-pound bag of potatoes *
2 6 oz. logs of room temperature chevre (goat cheese) *
A cup or so of chicken or vegetable stock
Salt and pepper to taste
Earth Balance Margarine or Extra Virgin Olive oil

* I avoid boiling vegetables the traditional way because they turn to mush and the vitamins leech into the water. Instead, I either steam them by placing a bamboo steamer in the bottom of the stockpot or using a small amount of water. I also leave potatoes unpeeled – more fiber. Who can’t use a little of that on Thanksgiving?
* If you’re not using chevre (which makes the mashed potatoes wonderfully full-bodied and tangy), use 1-2 cups of heated stock or milk to thin the potatoes. Amount will vary depending on preferred consistency.

Wash potatoes and cut into chunks (quarter if potatoes are small). Add two inches of purified water to a large stockpot. Place bamboo steamer in the pan and add cut potatoes. If you don’t have a steamer, pour about 2 inches of purified water into the pot and then add potatoes. Bring water to a boil and then turn heat back to medium and steam for 15 minutes or until potatoes are fork-tender.
Remove from pot carefully (there will be lots of steam) and place in large mixing bowl or casserole dish. If there’s a little excess water, leave it in. Add first log of chevre and mash with electric hand beater or with a potato masher until blended. Then add second log. You may need to add warm stock or milk if it’s too thick. Add the salt, pepper, Earth Balance, or Olive Oil to taste and serve immediately or cover to keep warm.

Gluten-Free Gravy

2 cups chicken, turkey, or vegetable stock
½ cup pan drippings from the turkey
½ cup rice flour
Coconut or Almond Milk

Heat stock and drippings in a medium saucepan over medium high heat till bubbling. With wire whisk, beat vigorously while sprinkling flour in gradually. Don’t add all at once because you may not need it all. Continue to whisk as it thickens until it reaches desired consistency. Note: if you use pan drippings, you won’t need to add fat or salt. If no drippings are available or you want to keep it vegan, add Earth Balance or Olive Oil to give it more body.

Cranberry Sauce Without White Sugar

This is one of the easiest and healthiest ways I’ve ever known to make cranberry sauce. You’ll definitely get your Vitamin C allotment for the day with this recipe:

http://www.teamyrg.com/forum/topics/cranberry-sauce-a-healthy

Broccoli Puree

If you like your broccoli the traditional way, go right ahead. The texture of cruciferous vegetables has always turned me off, so I found a more appealing way to get it down the hatch:
1 bag frozen broccoli
½ cup vegetable or chicken stock
Earth Balance Margarine or Extra Virgin Olive Oil
Salt to taste

In a large saucepan, bring stock to a boil and add broccoli. Simmer covered over medium heat for 10 minutes, until fork-tender. Remove from heat; add margarine or olive oil and salt. Puree using an immersion blender or electric hand mixer. Transfer to a serving dish and serve immediately or cover and keep warm till ready to serve.

Cornbread

Another item that’s inherently gluten-free. Of course, there are recipes available on the cornmeal container, but here is one of my personal favorites. Love Karina Allrich’s version for its exotic touches of cinnamon, nutmeg, and bourbon vanilla.
http://glutenfreegoddess.blogspot.com/2010/05/vanilla-cornbread.html

Gluten-Free Stuffing

Yes Virginia, a really delicious gluten-free stuffing is absolutely do-able. Sure it costs significantly more, but it’s worth the price of a loaf of gluten-free bread. And I’m down 12 sizes, so...fair trade.

http://www.teamyrg.com/forum/topics/gfree-stuffing

Escalloped Corn

Found this recipe through the friend of a Facebook friend. Thank You Tiajuana Anderson Neel! I amended some ingredients to make it dairy-free….but it’s still appropriately decadent for Thanksgiving.

1 cup cornmeal
2 TBS. Sugar or Agave
½ tsp. salt
2 cans drained whole kernel corn or 16 oz. frozen corn
8 ounces of tofu sour cream or goat yogurt, room temperature
1 stick butter, or Earth Balance, softened to room temperature
2 eggs, room temperature

Preheat oven to 350
Place cornmeal, sugar, corn, sour cream, and butter in large mixing bowl. With a wooden spoon, mix vigorously until smooth. Crack eggs into small bowl and whip with a fork or whisk until very blended. Add to corn mixture. Spray a casserole dish with olive oil cooking spray and add corn mixture. Bake for 45 minutes to an hour or until set.

Tofu Chocolate Mousse
This is a lovely ending to a meal – particularly a heavy one. It’s the perfect hit of chocolate sweetness, minus the fat-laden heaviness of cake, pie, or traditional mousse.
http://www.teamyrg.com/forum/topics/holy-hit-of-chocolate-batman

Sesame Wafers

Another light option. You won’t have to force these light, crispy cookies down the hatch. Serve plain or with ice cream made of coconut or almond milk. This recipe was given to me by Lisa Hall of Bolton Landing, N.Y. They were a major hit at a lakeside reception at the Marcella Sembrich Opera Museum in June and I knew HFFT readers would appreciate their uniqueness.

2 cups brown sugar
¾ cup butter or Earth Balance, softened
1 egg, beaten
1 cup Sorghum or Rice Flour
½ tsp baking powder
¼ tsp salt
1 cup sesame seeds
1 tsp vanilla
Preheat oven to 325 degrees.

Toast sesame seeds in a cast iron skillet on the stovetop until golden brown. Cream the butter and sugar together, add beaten egg. Sift flour with salt and baking powder, stir into butter mixture. Add vanilla and sesame seeds. Drop by ½ teaspoon on a greased cookie sheet. Bake for approximately 8 minutes. Allow to cool for one minute before removing from sheet. Makes about 100.

(Lisa finds that the thin, cheap cookie sheets work the best for this recipe. The insulated type makes the wafers puff up.)

YRG Radio TONIGHT!

2010-11-18T13:35:00.000-08:00

I'm co-hosting YRG Radio tonight at 9 p.m. with the one and only Diamond Dallas Page, the fitness ninja who helped me drop-kick 170 pounds (and a lot of emotional baggage) out of my life. Call in or log online to listen - and ask questions! (347) 994-1216.

9 p.m. EST - see you there ♥

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/yrgradio

Requiem For A Premature Winter

2010-11-08T19:22:00.000-08:00

...well it's not really a requieum, but a last-minute dessert I whipped together today in an attempt to ward off the despair that mounted with the sleet as it clicked against my window. The dessert involved baked apples...more on that in a minute. I made the baked-apple-choice after grappling with the idea of downing a gluten-free cupcake (piled high with tufts of butter cream frosting, it's one of my favorite occasional indulgences). The problem was, I just had a gluten-free cupcake yesterday. Usually when I give in to the desire that's the end of it for a while, and weeks go by until another cupcake craving comes a knocking. I knew the 'just do it' voice in my head urging me to reach for another one in less than a 24-hour span was the perfect barometer that I was feeling a little off.

The thing about emotional eating is it's not always rooted in crisis or high drama. Today, feeling bummed about the lousy weather was enough of an impetus to have me contemplating relief via my tastebuds. And that's not always a bad thing...it's actually a healthy and human thing to do. I just know myself and my limits and could see things insideously creeping out of control if I didn't do a little negotiating. Yeah, I was hungry...and I wanted something sweet. But it was so freakin' cold and bleak out, I realized the overriding sensation I wanted to experience was warmth. So I preheated the oven to 325 and proceeded to assemble the following:

Two small apples, sliced and cored
Two tablespoons of homemade cranberry sauce (see previous blog for recipe)
A small handful of dried apricots

Layer in baking dish as follows: apricots (they will be so plump and juicy when it's over you won't believe it!); apples; cranberry sauce. Bake for 30 minutes.

One very important ingredient: a Cazuela. There's something magical about these baking dishes. The fact that they're lead and chemical free is a big plus. They're also made from clay harvested from riverbanks in the south of Spain. It all makes for a constitution that affords flawless baking. Mine looks like nothing more than a terra cotta plate...the kind that go underneath terra cotta planters to catch excess water. Its plainness is deceptive. It comes with no lid, yet everything I've ever baked in it is fork-tender and moist. Don't go looking for Cazuela's at Wal-Mart. Try import or specialty stores. Mine come from Hamada Egyptian Bazaar in Saratoga Springs. They come in varying sizes. Give the owner Mohamed a shout...he will hook you UP! http://www.hamadaegyptianbazaar.com/info.html .

If you decide to take up the art of Cazuela-baking, let me know how it goes. In the meantime, Bon Appetit! And please excuse the photo quality. Took them circa 5 p.m. today and daylight was long gone. Here's to baking away the winter blues...

The Joys of Honey

2010-11-03T09:54:00.000-07:00

Hmmmm...I don't know whether to Thank or Spank the fellow who turned me on to the pleasures of Truffle Honey this week. Its taste is both electric and indescribable. If you have a weak neck, be careful, because it will be snapping back in ecstasy...guaranteed.

I think there's no end to the ways Truffle Honey can be enjoyed, but it's definitely not gonna be wasted in a cup of tea. This morning's breakfast: Sheep's Milk Ricotta, two corn crackers, and a couple of heaping spoons of the most wondrous nectar I've ever tasted.

Truly, it's a complete part of a Sensual Breakfast.
Remind me to let the FDA know...

♥

Kale Salad with Tahini Dressing

2010-11-01T02:07:00.000-07:00

Saw this intriguing recipe on an online video from a raw chef. Now I forget the guy's name, but he was Australian, and had a gorgeous, spotless white kitchen with little boxes of herbs and wheat grass growing on the counters.

This recipe is an approximation and I added my own spin, like Bragg's Amino Acid instead of soy sauce or tamari. Also, I'm not of the 100% raw school of thought, but more of a part-time participant. My Ayurvedic constitution is Kapha, which means an intense preference for foods warm and cooked, but every now and then, my system seems to demand something green and rough. What better than kale to fit that bill?

Prepping kale is a little time-consuming, but worth it. After rinsing, you may find it hard to get all the water off its curly leaves. Liberal amounts of patting and squeezing with a towel are required because you don't want a water-logged salad. Unless you're having a crowd for dinner, a bunch of kale goes pretty far and will keep in the refrigerator up to a week...not having excess water weighing it down will help the preservation.

Kale Salad with Tahini Dressing
1 bunch of kale, washed, dried and torn or chopped into bite-sized pieces
1/2 cup tahini (sesame paste)
1/3 cup lemon juice
1 TBS. Bragg's Liquid Aminos
1/2 TBS. Agave

Place washed and chopped kale in a large mixing bowl. In small mixing bowl, whisk tahini, lemon juice, liquid aminos, and agave until smooth. Pour dressing over kale and mix thoroughly for a few minutes before serving. Kale is sturdy and can take being 'dressed' and stored for up to a week. Bon Appetit!

Ayurveda: Get Glowing!

2010-09-28T14:46:00.000-07:00

Ever since reading Deepak Chopra's "Perfect Weight" all those years ago, Ayurveda has been part of my healing. It's a book filled with sound wisdom instead of gimmicky promises, so it didn't sell well. Ayurveda is the antithesis of our culture's pharmaceutically obsessed belief that all we need are some little pills to make everything go away. Here's a list of some fascinating and pretty simple guidelines for better health and well being. I don't do them all, but give it my best shot. There...I just admitted to being a part-time food combiner. Check it out and see if any resonate with you.

♥

The following tips are from Vaishāli, author of "You Are What You Love®" and "Wisdom Rising" http://tinyurl.com/WisdomRising

Sometimes learning just a few simple tips for more conscious living can make the most useful and positive changes in our lives. To that end, listed below are a thirteen understated yet profound tips for improving the quality of one’s health as well as assisting in that perennial task of getting an edge up on anti-aging and weight management.

1. Walking after you eat
Walking is actually a very powerful digestive aid. The Eastern Indian system of self-healing called Ayurveda advocates for “the journey of a 1,000 steps” after consuming food. The walk doesn’t have to be long; it just needs to be embarked upon after mealtime. So if you have a dog, take your fur-covered friend for a once around the block. Your pet will be grateful, and it will serve as a post-digestive gift to yourself. If you can’t walk, massaging the feet relaxes the body and strengthens the digestive system. There are many reflexology points on the foot that connect with our internal organs, thus bringing immediate benefit and support.

2. Waking up at 6am and exercising gets you the best return for your workout investment
This is especially helpful if you are large framed and prone to gaining weight easily. In Ayurveda, different times of the day have different qualities of energy. For most corpulent people, getting up early in the morning is absolutely the hardest most unpleasant task of the day, because the energy influence of 6-10am has a heavy, sedentary quality. According to Ayurvedic philosophy, overweight people will actually gain more weight the longer they sleep in past 6am, as this is when their metabolism is the most sluggish and energy conserving. Getting up at 6 a.m. and working out counterbalances that natural slowing down, lethargic, weight gaining tendency. It puts one’s metabolism in fat burning mode rather than fat accumulation mode. If you are going to bite the bullet and work out routinely, getting up early and starting it first thing is the smartest way to maximize your benefits.

3. The body likes a temperature of 98.6 degrees, because the organs in the body function best at this temperature
As a matter of fact the body can even function well hotter than that, like when we get an infection and the body turns up the heat. But it does not like to get colder. Internalizing cold food and liquids stuns the organs by forcing them to run colder than they are designed to function. Think of the stomach as a pot that sits on your stove. You want there to be a consistent flame under that pot so that everything you put into it gets cooked thoroughly.
Refrigerators and ice machines are fairly new advents in the history of humankind. Our bodies have not historically evolved into ingesting cold foods and liquids. In addition to adverse effects on organ function, there are emotional repercussions from internalized lower temperatures as well. Ingesting cold cuisine shocks the stomach and spleen/pancreas, which in turn creates an emotional backlash of worry and anxiety. The habit of eating cold foods and drinking iced beverages may be behind your waking up at 4am worrying about various issues in your life. Another point to consider is that when the internal organs get colder, that will cause a slowing down of the digestive system and its calorie burning efficiency, thus increasing weight gain from whatever is consumed. Consuming cold food and beverages literally freezes weight in the body, stunts the digestive system and promotes the release of cold-related emotions such as stress and worry. Drinking warm liquids and avoiding cold foods will assist you in gaining less weight as well as processing and releasing toxic emotions. So, if you have to have that ice cream sundae or root beer float, make sure you have a hot beverage that you sip frequently, giving your body a chance to warm up and recover before overwhelming the internal organs by lowering their preferred inner temperature.

4. Food combining is a topic that gets very little attention
Most people will go out of their way to buy and prepare an organic and nutritious meal. But if the foods are combined incorrectly the internal results can be disastrously unhealthy. There are many food-combining rules that can be refined indefinitely and endlessly, making them too rigid and hard to follow. For the sake of simplicity we will focus on some elementary points.

Do not combine fruits with grains, meats or vegetables. Fruits are mostly water and take about an hour to digest. Grains, meats and vegetable matter takes about three times longer. So when fruits are combined with these slower digesting foods, they will putrefy within the digestive tract. This means that even if you eat organic cereal with organic milk, and throw on some organic fruit, the whole thing will become a toxic mess in the body.

Fruits have their own food-combining rules as well. Citrus fruits should not be combined with non-citrus fruits. Melons and strawberries should be eaten by themselves and never mixed with anything else. That means that strawberries and bananas may taste great together, but your body will not benefit from the combination. Melons and strawberries go in the “eat them alone, or leave them alone” category. Ayurveda calls mangoes the “Queen of fruits,” and mangoes are immune to the rule of fruit combining. According to Ayurveda the mango is the only fruit that can be combined with other foods and not become toxic. So enjoy that mango lassie with a guilt-free conscious. Ayurveda calls asparagus the “King of Vegetables,” and says if you are going to eat only one veggie, make it asparagus. It is a deeply detoxifying and nutrient enriched food. Asparagus is a pricy vegetable, but if you treat food as medicine, this is one dish well worth considering.

The bottom line when in doubt about food combining: eating a kosher diet will always ensure the healthiest dietary combinations. (A kosher diet follows Ayurveda food combining.)

5. Eating root vegetables heals, supports and sustains the root chakra
All root vegetables such as carrots, turnips, beets, radishes, etc. are medicine for the body’s root chakra energy system. The root chakra is an energy center located on the pelvic floor. It is all about supporting life and survival on the most basic of levels. Especially during times of extreme stress, when the body is under pressure, think of root vegetables as your first wave of medicine for the root chakra.

6. Laughing before eating relaxes and opens the gall bladder duct
Eating during a sales meeting, while emotionally upset or in the company of people you do not like or trust will cause the gall bladder duct to constrict and narrow. When stressed or emotionally compromised this tiny duct between the liver and the gall bladder can be the first part of the digestive system to contract and the last to relax. If you have a history of gall bladder challenges, laughing and lightening up can be your best digestive aid.

7. Better Posture
Everyone wants better posture, but forcing that result by tightening the back muscles is not the best way to achieve that goal. A more efficient way to achieve better posture is to lift up from the sternum, which expands the chest naturally, instead of tightening the back muscles. Then turn the thumbs outwards and back when you stand or walk. This will gently rotate the shoulders back and correct slouched posture without over correcting.

8. Ayurveda suggests that any organ that is exposed to the air needs oiling on a daily basis
Edgar Cayce also agrees with Ayurveda in suggested there is value in placing a few drops of organic castor oil in each eye just before going to bed. By the time you wake up the body will have completely absorbed the oil and your vision will be clear and refreshed. Beyond lubrication, another advantage to castor oil in the eyes is that it supports the liver. According to the Eastern systems of self-healing the eyes are connected to the liver. When the body is forming in the uterus the eyes and liver develop at the same time from similar tissue. When the liver is ill, such as with some forms of hepatitis, the eyes will become a discolored yellow. So whether or not the eyes are windows to the Soul, they are definitely a window to the health of the liver. When we stare into a computer or television screen for long periods of time or spend too much time in the sun, the eyes can overheat the liver energetically. Castor oil, when applied externally, is energetically cooling and will literally pull the excess heat out of the liver and the eyes. When castor oil is taken internally it is heating, that is why taking a spoonful or two of castor oil will inspire a bodily waste evacuation.
There is an Ayurvedic oil especially designed for the nose. It is called “Nasya” oil. This oil is to be used in the morning and evening. One lays on a bed or floor with the nostrils pointing upwards. Then 5-7 drops are placed in each nostril and inhaled deeply, driving the oil back up into the nasal cavity. In addition to lubricating the nasal passageways, inhaling this oil does wonders for clearing up allergies to animal fur and various forms of pollen. It also helps to ease shoulder and neck tension and stress.

There are several types of oil specifically for the hair, scalp and detoxifying the brain. Brahmi and Bhringaraj are the most popular. Ayurveda describes the head as actually having a type of energetic vent system. These oils enter the vents and lubricate not only the hair shaft and scalp but also the brain itself. These oils can be used individually or in a formula of half and half that can be mixed and combined to get the full spectrum of oilation benefits.
Ayurveda suggests that the movement of life itself is drying to the body. Since the skin is the body’s largest organ and has the most exposure to the elements, oiling the body head to toe before showering is recommended as one of the top three daily routines for a long and healthy life. Once in the shower do not soap the oil off. Allow the water to drive the oil deeper into the skin, and then towel dry as normal. The body is designed to clean itself from the inside out. Using the typical soap and water shower protocol will dry the top layer of the skin which compromises the body’s natural cleaning from the inside out. Oiling the skin supports the body in cleansing itself from the deeper tissues outwards. The type of oil that one would use would depend on the body type of the person in question and their proclivity for imbalance. Almond oil is one of the few oils that can be used by nearly every person, although for best results, one should consult an Ayurvedic practitioner for an exact determination.

9. Getting to bed between 9 and 9:30 p.m. will provide a better quality of sleep
Our bodies go through natural cycles daily and nightly. The body is designed to begin to slow down at night in preparation for sleep. This why it is best to stop eating after 7pm, as the digestive system is slowing down as well. When going to bed with enough time to drift off to sleep before 10pm the body will be primed for the best recuperative rest. After 10pm the fire in the mind will start to rise and become more active. If you are awake and doing things, you will most likely experience that second wind and find yourself possessed by the need to just get that perennial “one more thing” done. Needless to say, as most people have already noticed from personal experience, the more active the mind, the more difficult it is to fall asleep.

10. Menstruation wisdom
This tip is just for women. Avoid a strenuous workout the first 3 to 4 days of your menstrual cycle. The menstruation process is one of the more profound ways the female body detoxifies. Working out is all about building the body up; detoxing is about supporting the body in releasing. These are widely divergent activities. When you exercise during the menstrual cycle you are telling the body to both build up and let go. Energetically this is very confusing to the body’s natural intelligence. Also avoid bodywork such as deep tissue massage or Rolfing above the waist. The energy flow of the body changes during menstruation. Bleeding, from an Eastern perspective, is a fire event, and fire naturally rises. This upwards energy flow is not ideal during the menstrual cycle so the body naturally shifts the energy to flow downwards for this localized fire event. Endometriosis, from the Eastern perspective, is caused by the fire energy flowing back upwards, instead of flowing downwards during the menstrual cycle, thus taking the endometrial tissue with it. When a woman engages in any activity that brings the body’s energy attention upwards, it is in direct conflict with the body’s natural downward shift of energy flow during menstruation. This downward energy movement is designed to help purge the toxic blood down, out and away from the body. Women prone to endometriosis need to be especially carefully in preserving this natural downward energy flow and not confuse the body by directing energy upwards. This means even avoiding the upwardly inhaling the nasal oil in addition to any energy work done around the head. Foot reflexology and bodywork downwards along the legs is fine, since it will encourage a downward movement of energy.

11. A tongue scraper is a simple and low cost health feature
At night while we sleep one of the many things the body is doing involves detoxifying. All of the body’s internal organs are connected to the tongue. This is why Ayurvedic and Chinese Medicine practitioners ask to see the tongue. From examining the shape, color, pits, dents or other topical features, a good alternative health practitioner can discern a great deal of information about the overall health of the body.

In the morning after waking up the best way to start the day before eating and drinking is to use the tongue scraper. Start as far back as is comfortable and bring the tongue scraper forward. All the discolored material that is scraped off the tongue are toxins the body has taken the time during the night to bring up through the internal organs and push out through the tongue. Using a tongue scraper is also a very effective way to make changes in your diet, by seeing directly the next morning what your body is discarding on the tongue as toxic and non-useable. The tongue can be lightly scraped until the residue is no longer appearing on the scraper. Usually this is about 10 times. Then clean the tongue scraper as you would your toothbrush

12. Swishing sesame oil in the mouth for ten minutes will enhance dental hygiene
Statistically India is the country with the highest number of diagnosed cases of diabetes. Yet it has the lowest cases of dental decay. Swishing organic sesame oil in the mouth for ten minutes has been a time-honored way of improving oral health. This can be done while watching television, reading, washing dishes or any activity that does not also involve talking. This only needs to be done once a day, and is best to do before bed, as it will also help keep the mouth from drying out while sleeping. A dry mouth will encourage the growth of bacteria. The magic number is ten full minutes, and then spit the oil out. Do not swallow.

13. CCF tea is the ultimate beverage for a long and healthy life
Take equal amounts of organic cumin, coriander and fennel seeds. Boil for 3-5 minutes, then strain out the seeds. According to Ayurveda this tea formula has long been valued as the best tonic for what ails you. The combination of seeds is a great digestive aid as well as internally cleansing. There is a saying in Ayurveda that nothing bad can happen to you if drink enough CCF tea. Freshly sliced ginger can also be added and boiled with the seeds to add a fire balancing digestive quality. The tea by itself is slightly bland so honey and lemon can also be added to make the taste more interesting.

Summary: When making changes in your diet and lifestyle it is also best to start out with what is easy and simple. Making changes gradually is the best way to ensure that you can incorporate beneficial habits routinely as well as keep your life balanced by not overwhelming yourself with too many changes too quickly.
Also remember that food is your first wave of medicine. When you are grocery shopping for yourself and family, if what you are throwing into your shopping cart is not useful as medicine to the body, don’t buy it.

These tips are designed to be a simple, quick and easy way to bring some profound improvements to the quality of your life with the least amount of effort. Remember, radiant health and a balanced lifestyle start and build on itself with every conscious choice you make.

Vaishali is the author of Wisdom Rising http://tinyurl.com/WisdomRising and You Are What You Love http://tinyurl.com/Your-Are-Love . She is a columnist for the Huffington Post and an international health & wellness speaker who has appeared on The Dr. Oz Radio Show and Oprah.com. Vaishali learned to transform her life from the threat of two terminal disease diagnoses, domestic abuse and financial devastation. Completely recovered, she shares her wisdom @ www.purplev.com/mediakit or email press@purplev.com To see Vaishali live in-person click here: http://conta.cc/cHzvg0

http://www.thebusinessmuse.com/mediablog/?p=502

Back In White

2010-09-15T20:38:00.000-07:00

I hope you'll pardon the immodesty, but I consider this to be tantamount to humans landing on the moon.

Why? Because for more than 20 years I wore nothing but black, head to toe. It was my magic eraser...or so I thought. It was my tool for vanishing into the void and disappearing and pretending that I wasn't who I was physically.

Remember that immortal whack job Burt (played by the late, Brilliant Richard Mulligan) from the 70's sit-com Soap? Whenever Burt had a little too much reality for one day, he'd decide to become 'invisible' by suddenly snapping his fingers and declaring, "That's it, I'm not here!" Burt was so good at being delusional he convinced himself that simply snapping his fingers could vaporize his physicality. I relate. It's what I believed black would do for my size, which I spent a lot of time and energy ignoring. I got so good at being dishonest with myself, I almost had me fooled about adoring the color black...until last week when, for the first time since childhood, I donned a color of an entirely different vibration.

Yes, it felt etheric. Yes, I felt like a brand new person. And yes...it was worth all the effort. ♥

Oh, and for those new to the blog, here's basically how I did it. The short version is, I gave up the following:

1. Self-Loathing
2. Gluten
3. Cow Dairy

And I added:

1. Generous amounts of Self-Love
2. Liberal doses of movement (http://www.yrgfitness.com/)
3. A cache of supportive people in my inner circle (note: this may cause you to do a little long overdue house-cleaning, but you're worth it, so go for it)

...For more complete details, catch up on past posts

Getting Ready for The Ultimate Risk

2010-09-09T19:40:00.001-07:00

The unconscious mind never fails to amaze me with the breadth of its power. Its moves are far more rapid than a ninja's and its precision infinitely sharper than any laser. And I know, even without awareness, that its powerful stealth drives me. So I’m writing this more as an open letter to that vast, unseen, and ferociously powerful part of my being that drives the bus.

Unconscious, when you read this letter, perhaps we can make a little peace. Like the truce we’ve happily settled into where food is concerned. After years of negotiating, we no longer drug ourselves with it. Because of our collaboration, I’ve drop kicked lots of emotional baggage out of my life and the ensuing 170 pounds that went with it.

But like most complex situations in life, I find myself wielding the weight of a mighty sword with two distinct edges. What do I mean? The good news: I have my life back. The bad news: I have my life back. And now that the realm of food addiction is relatively smooth sailing, I feel the next challenge approaching in the distance…and one I’ve made every effort to avoid these past two decades: men. Actually that’s not entirely true. I didn’t avoid men completely; I did time in a 20-year relationship. What I really avoided was Love. Somewhere in that vast unseen mystery that is 90 percent of my mind, I equate it with pain.

I’ve only been in Love once in my life. There were lots of mini-infatuations along the way…and then, one deep and dizzying, hurling-through-a-distant-galaxy kind of Love where ticking watches and calendar time cease to exist.

Years before he and I met, a tea leaf reader predicted our liaison and its potentcy, reciting his first initial, describing his physical appearance, and announcing the time of year we would meet. She even saw that he’d be wearing a flowing wool muffler around his neck…all this from a clump of wet tea leaves. But sure enough, it came to pass one bitter cold night on a college campus in February.

I don’t have time or energy for the full script, but it was exhilarating, intense, and consumed every part of me. We both dove in full throttle. And I would have done pretty much anything he asked of me, including move to his country, learn his language, and adopt his religion. Only he never asked. Our liaison was also short, less than a year. And he ended it suddenly, with no real explanation. A few months later he transferred to a school on the west coast. To say I was devastated doesn’t come close.

Truly, I put all my eggs in a single basket with him…and he dropped it. And you can imagine what happened with the eggs. A real, ‘all the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put me back together again’ scenario. So I died. Went about killing the sexy identity I crafted via Weight Watchers and daily aerobics. I also offed the ivy-league student on the rise, and the traveling adventurer. I ate whatever I wanted with enough frequency that the weight came back and I didn’t have to feel a damn thing. I dropped out of the shiny, prestigious school, and moved back to the town where I grew up and never left.

Since I didn’t like being hurt, the unconscious swung dutifully into action. Did I mention that it operates in the most literal of senses? For example, Attractive=Incoming Men= Pain. The new operating instructions from below deck came loud and clear: Comforting Food=Numbed Feelings+Walls of Fat to Keep Men Away=Safety.

22 years after losing at Love, I rose out of the ashes in a way I never thought I would. There was the repetition of the glorious transformation of another triple-digit weight drop and all the ooohs and aaahs that come with it. No false modesty here, I Love being complimented. But it’s in perspective now and definitely not my daily bread. There were the joys of a shrinking waistline and burgeoning wardrobe…in a rainbow of colors I hadn’t worn since childhood. And eventually, men started looking again. That alone took some adjusting to. I knew I'd better get OK with it or risk another downslide. And since I really do like dressing in color, I've decided downsliding is not an option this time.

I realize there may come a time when a guy decides to do more than look. Everyone’s asking me if the D-word has started and if not when??? The truth is I don’t know when…I’ve got mixed feelings because I’ve never been adept at it, never did it in high school. It’s always struck me as a forced and painfully hollow ritual. I suppose I’ll know when something feels right. I’m in no hurry. I’ve learned from watching others try and skip the post-break-up grieving process by frantically seeking out a warm body and making huge messes in the interim. Then again, I didn’t work this hard to end up living a monastic existence either. The funny thing is, I’m learning that I don’t need the weight to keep men away. Perhaps the unconscious still senses danger and is emitting a silent but shrill ‘Get the F*ck Away From Me’ vibe I’m not even aware of….sneaky little unconscious….let’s agree to work on that, OK?

Spontaneous Moments of Joy

2010-09-02T22:35:00.000-07:00

...they come to me more frequently now than ever. And here's who and what I have to thank for it: Dallas Page and YRG (http://www.yrgfitness.com/), my role model Terri Lange, eliminating gluten and cow dairy, eating mindfully, feeling the feelings, long-distance walking, pumping iron a few times a week, and a good old-fashioned lightening bolt of Divine Intervention that got the ball rolling in the first place back in January 2009.

Today as I drove to belly dance class in my new and very compact car that I couldn’t have wedged myself into two years ago, I was struck by how amazing I felt. In a span of seconds came the awareness of the fortitude of my skeletal system, the fact that my abdomen is actually concave now, and of course…the elevated energy levels that come from physical activity and clean eating.

The fruits of my labor are my new normal now, but at 3:05 p.m. today I was really thunderstruck at how good balance feels. There is nothing that’s better than having the body, mind, and spirit aligned and humming.

It’s astounding what a generous a payback the YRG lifestyle yields. People who know my story (which includes regaining 100 pounds twice in my life) know I have a strict rule against being strict. My experience is that it’s a set up for a prison break, and prison breaks for me mean dividing my time between the potato chip aisle of the supermarket or the KFC drive thru.

I can’t say enough about the benefits of eliminating the poisons of gluten and cow dairy. In a month I’ll be 46…and I look and feel exponentially better than I did at age 20 or 18 or 16. I even look better than the two occasions in my 20’s when I lost 100 pounds. Must have had something to do with the fact that they were nothing more than white-knuckle episodes of excruciating and prolonged dieting. I was miserable and it showed, and not surprisingly, the unnatural state could not be sustained. I couldn’t wait for the arrival of the inevitable moment: a precision-executed swan dive off the wagon that would have made an Olympic diving coach proud.

And about that non-strictness policy…two nights ago I thoroughly enjoyed a fried chicken dinner (on the side was kale instead of butter-infused mashed potatoes and biscuits), the week before that when I was really feeling ready to enjoy it (this was not a moment of feeling-avoidance) I ate a g-free cupcake that was crowned with a thick, gorgeous butter cream frosting. The process of ingesting that cupcake was slow, deliberate, and liberating. These were things I used to binge eat in shame when I was ‘bad,’ or would declare banished forever when I was ‘good.’ And while I’ve made the choice to largely eliminate cow dairy, I start my day the way I have for the past 15 years: with a steaming double espresso splashed with light cream and a little honey. As I realized early on this time around: it’s not about eliminating pleasure, but managing my misuse of it.

I still get lots of pleasure from food. More, actually, than all my years of binge eating, because I’m actually paying attention when I eat now. Last night, I was up well past midnight making a triple-batch of gluten-free zucchini bread. It’s glorious. People who’ve tried it have no clue it’s gluten-free and absolutely swoon over it. I promise to post the recipe soon.

Tomorrow I’m heading due west to a family reunion near Buffalo. It’s a long drive, but I’m packing the bread for the legions of curious relatives who’ve been asking me via e-mail how I manage to survive not eating wheat.

It’s a small offering and only a tiny part of the puzzle, but I’m hoping that a moist slice of perfectly sweetened, homemade bread and the visual of my completely transformed body and spirit may be enough to convince them that change can and does happen – with minimal suffering.

2006

August 2010

Making It Stick

2010-08-21T11:09:00.000-07:00

Question I just received from a fellow-Truth-Seeker: how easy is it for me to eat gluten- and dairy-free? Answer: it gets easier with time.

There was no shortcut for me...I simply did it through good old-fashioned reinforcement through repetition until it became a way of life. Didn’t make all changes up front because it would have been too overwhelming. Introduced new foods and let go of destructive ones gradually in order of importance. First to go were my primary binge foods, then I pared back from there. There was a time when I considered cream cheese to be a food group unto itself. I subsisted on it...and basically wore the consequences. I still adore cheese, but nowadays, you can find me sinking my teeth into a pale yellow wedge of Manchester (www.considerbardwellfarm.com/cheese.html ) or a snowy white wheel of White Lily (www.sweetspringfarm.com/ourproducts.html).

I feel so amazing now that I'm gluten and dairy free I'm rarely tempted to re-enter those realms again. There are so many satisfying and viable alternatives for cheese, bread, cake, and flatbread that don't involve gluten or cow-dairy that I tell you truthfully there's no suffering involved. Yeah, there are little things that could be quibbled over, like the texture of most g-free bread is a little different, but I'm down 163 pounds. Call me annoyingly optimistic, but I deem that a fair trade.

I do eat cheese very occasionally. The trick I've learned is to make sure it's gorgeous and artistic and worth the deviation AND that I really want it, and I'm not using it to fill a hole or alleviate stress.

And then...I proceed to enjoy it without an ounce of recrimination.

Here's to eating with Joy & Awareness!

xoxo
Stacey

Jeffery Bowers, master cheese-maker at Sweet Spring Farm in Cossayuna, N.Y. putting the final touches on a new batch of White Lily, an outrageously good soft-ripened goat cheese.

Forensic evidence that cream cheese was never meant to be a primary protein source

Clean eating: The benefits are undeniable

An Early (Raspberry) Season

2010-08-18T11:36:00.000-07:00

Since Raspberry season has come early this year, I’m wasting no time. Picked three pounds on Sunday at Gardenworks Farm in Salem, N.Y. (http://www.gardenworksfarm.com/) . That’s only the beginning…anyone familiar with my love of raspberries knows I’m only in the embryonic stages of full seasonal exploitation.

Upon arrival home from Gardenworks, I let out an audible cry of despair after realizing the freezer was completely overloaded (mostly with g-free products I buy on sale and stash). Once raspberries are picked, it’s a pretty quick countdown to spoilage, so I got to work. My cousin, Alice, who picked with me, made jam. Since I've never ventured into jam-making territory, I chose to play to my strengths.

The following is one of my favorite dessert recipes that I’ve adapted to suit my personal taste (as in, using less sugar that is called for; I find most baking recipes are too heavy-handed with it). No matter who tries this chocolate wonder-dessert, they invariably end up clamoring for more…and for the recipe. And they’re usually moaning too loudly to hear me mention that it’s a dessert that falls in line with my gluten-free way of eating. I discovered this symphonic overture for Flourless Chocolate Cake on one of my favorite recipe sites of all time: http://glutenfreegoddess.blogspot.com/ . Karina Allrich truly is a Goddess and has made me one ecstatic gluten-free gastronome.

Here’s the link to Karina’s recipe…try it, by all means:
http://glutenfreegoddess.blogspot.com/2007/01/flourless-chocolate-cake_11.html
© Gluten-Free Goddess

For my version of her recipe, I substituted baking (bitter) chocolate for regular dark (Belgian) chocolate. Bitter chocolate + light and dark sugar = ecstasy! So herewith is Stacey's Version of Karina's Recipe For:

Flourless Chocolate Cake Crowned with Local Raspberries

16 ounces baking (bitter) chocolate (two eight-ounce boxes)

1 cup organic brown sugar (light or dark)

½ cup organic sugar

1 cup hot espresso or very strong coffee

2 sticks room-temperature unsalted butter

2 tablespoons cocoa powder

8 large organic free-range eggs at room temperature, blended until smooth with a hand beater or immersion blender

1 tablespoon vanilla (bourbon vanilla if you have it)

Preheat oven to 350

I’ve mixed the ingredients two ways: Karina’s food processor method and stovetop method below:

In a large saucepan, melt butter and chocolate together over medium heat, whisking occasionally. When chocolate is mostly dissolved into the butter, gradually whisk in sugars, alternating with hot coffee. Turn heat off and keep whisking. At this point, the chocolate batter may get alarmingly dense and thick, don't panic! Just keep whisking as best you can. (The addition of the eggs will make everything OK) When mixture is completely smooth, add eggs and vanilla and whisk until smooth.

Spray a spring form (cheesecake) pan with olive oil cooking spray. Cover the bottom of the pan with foil to safeguard any leaks. Pour chocolate cake mixture into pan. Optional: place cake pan in a square baking dish filled with a few inches of water. Bake for 30-50 minutes. I’ve found the cake is done after about 30 minutes, baked on the bottom rack. Check after 30 minutes to assess if you need more time. Cake should be firm in the center and be slightly pulling away from the edges of the pan. Don’t over bake or the cake will be dry and chalky. A few cracks on the surface are OK. Baking in a water bath will help keep it moister.
Cool covered for 30 to 60 minutes before refrigerating. May be served chilled or at room temperature. Top with fresh raspberries. The tartness of the berries is a nice contrast to the dense sweetness of the cake. Bon Appetit!

Fruits of my labor

My friend Mary, who's not g-free, but ADORES this cake!

The next raspberry recipe is much easier – no baking required. Just a blender:

Raspberry Smoothie

12 ounces almond milk

1 cup raspberries

1-2 scoops protein powder (my favorite: Jay Robb’s Vanilla Egg White Protein Powder http://www.jayrobb.com/cat_proteinEggVan_12.asp)

2 tsp. Agave syrup (raspberries can be a little tart)

1 tsp. vanilla

Blend and enjoy thoroughly.

The French Fry Alternative

2010-07-28T22:10:00.000-07:00

My salt tooth, though legendary, has been tamed in recent months. I still get the occasional craving for glistening, hot French fries showered in salt and if I'm at an exceptionally good restaurant, like Balthazar, I'll dig in. http://www.balthazarny.com/menus/brunch.pdf .

Sometimes when a salt craving hits, I'll channel it into something relatively tame like rice crackers with olive tapenade (recipe to be posted at a later date), or those amazing Rice Works creations. Made of brown rice, the Sea Salt is the closest thing I've ever gotten to Fritos while maintaining my equilibrium and the Sweet Chili are a dead ringer for Doritos http://www.riceworkssnacks.com/flavors_USA.html .

During squash blossom season, however, I shelve the above options, unearth my large cast iron skillet and have a ball. There's nothing quite like a fried squash blossom. It's flavor is delicate but distinctive. The nutritional content remains a mystery to me but I'm guessing their orange color has to mean there's some significant beta carotene involved...and maybe a little fiber. I've never had the patience to stuff them so I simply dunk the squash blossoms in gluten-free batter and lay each one down in a sizzling bath of hot grapeseed oil (best for frying because of its high smoking point). In no time they're crisp and ready to eat...but not before the requisite shower of salt. Hey, I have a salt tooth....what did you expect?

Fried Squash Blossoms

12 squash blossoms

Grapeseed or light olive oil (not extra virgin)

1 cup gluten-free flour (rice, tapioca, chick pea, etc.)

1/2 tsp. garlic or onion powder

1/2 tsp. salt

1/2 tsp. pepper

1 can seltzer

Heat oil on medium heat in skillet. In medium mixing bowl blend dry ingredients well. Add seltzer a little at a time, whisking thoroughly with wire whisk until flour turns to a pancake batter-like consistency...perhaps a little thinner. (Squash blossoms are very delicate and won't tolerate a heavy batter). Dip blossoms in batter one at a time and coat thoroughly before placing in pan (oil should be heated enough that they sizzle when placed in the pan). Fry for about 2-3 minutes on each side or until crisp. Set cooked blossoms aside on a plate or keep warm in a toaster oven until ready to serve.

Bon Appetit!

I think I channeled Scavullo on this shoot. They were so gorgeoous I couldn't stop clicking.

And does it need to be said? They're WAY better than French fries ♥

That Feeling of Fullness

2010-07-12T23:02:00.000-07:00

Fullness doesn't begin to describe the way I felt after ritually stuffing myself with something profoundly caloric, like Italian bread soaked in butter, salad mixing bowls filled with macaroni and cheese, and those super sized spreads where all I had to do was remain cloaked in the privacy of my car, reach my arm a little to the left, grab the paper bag and speed away in a cloud of dust. Quickly I wanted to forget the emptiness of my life...or sometimes the stress...or sometimes the desperation of the cycle of it all.

People ask me now if I had health problems from being 300 pounds + for 20 years. I didn't. Guess coming from healthy stock has its advantages. There was no knee or back pain, or even high blood pressure (much to the dismay of those who were waiting to pounce with their "you've got to think about your health" speeches.) What I did have were the shackles of fat which kept me away from a lot of life...which also kept the emptiness intact. Because when I was in the cycle, it unavoidably thwarted the life force that naturally longs to course through all of us. This meant innocuous but important things like relationships were compromised. Why? Because I was too knocked out to really connect with people. I thought I was giving it the old college try, but looking back, much of my time was spent either digesting a binge or planning the next one. Doesn't leave a lot of room for building relationships with others.

So when I recently visited one of my dearest friends on the planet, I was pretty amazed at the contrast - between the time spent with her last weekend vs. my visit three years ago. I've known Aunt Connie since before I could walk or talk. She was my mom's roommate at Lycoming College and they thankfully never lost touch. Aunt Connie and I are both Libra to the core, seeking out beauty and pleasure and harmony with a passionate determination. She has always had an innate sense of how to balance pleasure-seeking while I required a few decades of fine tuning. Aunt Connie's Heart is wide, pulsating, and ever-generous. Her passion lights up a room like a joyous lightening bolt. It used to exhaust me, now I delight in it. And she has this way of making guests feel like royalty. Little touches like new bottles of shampoo in the bathroom, lavender sachets on the turned down bed, and an elegant spread she assembles within minutes of my arrival as she describes the dance-yoga-pilates class she took yesterday followed by Aunt Connie's review of her latest favorite restaurant, Zero Otto Nove (which she drives me to later to prove her point).

The one and only Dr. Connie Vance, presiding in her kitchen

Perfect heatwave repast, both chilled: sliced green apple and a flawless potato soup (no dairy) recipe from Judith Jones' excellent "Cooking for One"

All around me were the gifts the past 15 months of transformation (from the inside out...I didn't go on a diet this time, that's why it worked). It was swelteringly hot and humid. I was a little uncomfortable but not irate and moaning. Three years ago, I was irate, moaning, and slumped on her couch fanning myself.

Three years ago, I would have packed some insurance in the form of potato chips or fast food and spent a significant part of my three-hour drive down I-87 eating. Instead, I pop a few walnuts and chug herbal tea (my constant road companion). I arrive at 1:30 p.m. only slightly hungry (heatwaves sometimes do that to me). She served me the elegant spread above and I savored, no I delighted in it all, from the faint hint of garlic in the potato soup to the mint leaves and the fragrant taste they left in the iced tea.

We talk about life: her book on mentoring that's just gone to the publisher, my latest travel writing assignment, the latest books she's reading (Aunt Connie usually has 3-4 in progress simultaneously). As usual, she has a verbal list of all the things she'd love us to experience during my visit...if only there were 48 hours in a day. So we settle for a handful of them that starts with what we both believe to be the best Little Italy in the world - Arthur Avenue in the North Bronx.

It was Aunt Connie who took me on my maiden voyage there during the winter of 2001 and the experience changed me on a neurobiochemical level. Truly the next best thing to actually being in Italia: there are signs written in Italian that announce the sale of hand-rolled pasta and fresh mozzarella, lyrical notes of spoken Italian ascend above the drone of English on the sidewalks and in cafes, and then there's the food. I don't have room here to give it the full scope of justice it deserves. I'll just summarize by saying it's all good.

Espresso at Palombo Pastry Shop

I can't help the giddiness. It happens every time I step onto the Terra Santa known as Arthur Avenue

Gilbert Teitel, Patriarch of Teitel Bros. Imports

http://www.teitelbros.com/

Reuniting with my hero after three interminable years. He supplies the world with Don Luigi, the best extra virgin olive oil on the planet (I've been known to tote little glass bottles of it to restaurants)

http://www.teitelbros.com/store/shopdisplayproducts.asp?ID=3&Go.x=13&Go.y=17

Dining at Zero Otto Nove, Roberto Pacciulo's charming trattoria named for the area code of his native Salerno

http://www.roberto089.com/

Arugula salad with Peccorino

Meatballs and polenta bathed in mind-blowingly good marinara

Broccoli Rabe - deep emerald, sturdy, and delicious

Eggplant Parm...Roberto-style

The appetizers were too appealing to narrow it down to two...

So we skipped entrees and stopped ourselves at four

No one says no to Roberto's Tiramisu

After dinner, we managed to squeeze in a wine-tasting in Pelham and a major Trader Joe's shopping spree in Scarsdale (that's actually the closet one to Lake George, so I stock up when I'm in Westchester County) before heading home to rest up for a 7 a.m. wake up call because...

A morning at Stone Barns awaited us...

But not before summoning the two non-neogtiables of my mornings: sunny side up eggs and espresso made a little less abrasive with cream. Even a quick breakfast is elegant at Aunt Connie's pied-à-terre.

http://www.stonebarnscenter.org/

It's at this Tarrytown paradise where we toured the greenhouses and fields (which always are in some magnificent stage of pre-harvest blossoming during summer months); took a food memoir writing workshop with the amazing Carol Durst, and later dined on corn soup, string bean salad, and just-picked cherries at the Blue Hill Cafe. Then we shopped the farmers market where I lavished Aunt Connie with blueberries, and she bought me a box of wildcrafted Roobios tea. We sat near some flowers and reminisced about the times she would visit me as when I was a kid growing up in Lake George. How even at age 8 I was fascinated with pink lipstick....and any other powdery smelling treasure I could pull from her quilted make up bag. It was Aunt Connie who taught me how to finely chop onions for the omelets she loved surprising my mother with. She also taught me my first few words in a foreign language (French) and whisked me around Paris on my unforgettable first visit. I guess you could say Aunt Connie has been a kaleidescope in human form...showing me uncountable wonders and ways to enjoy life - even just a drop more. The day was wearing on and she had to get home and grade college papers. I had to drive back to Lake George, my trunk packed with remnants of my travels through Arthur Avenue, Pelham, and Scarsdale. I left our time together feeling very full...and food was only a fraction of it.

Heatwave Sweeps My World: This Was Dinner

2010-07-05T21:19:00.000-07:00

...and the culmination of a day that started at 8 a.m. with a trip to the Farmers Market in Saratoga Springs. The peas were irresistable. (So was the White Lily soft-rind chevre from Sweet Spring Farm in Argyle and I dove into that at lunch). By the time I got home that day, the sun was nearly setting, it was sticky and hot, and in no way, shape or form did I want to turn on a stove. This is when the sushi department at Price Chopper is especially useful. Spicy Crab Rolls + Freshly Shelled Peas + Yogi Green Tea = Dinner ♥

If You Love Food Half As Much As I Do...

2010-06-18T22:16:00.000-07:00

...Here are a few things I've learned these past 15 months:

It's been just over 15 months I've been on the journey that began with watching Oprah confess she'd fallen off the wagon January 5, 2009. She snuck a via sattelite guest appearance by Carnie Wilson for a few brief moments, which alerted me to the existance of a man named Dallas who changed her Life. Dallas Page ended up changing mine too and naturally, I've learned a lot along the way. In the Spirit of paying forward, here are some of the things have gotten me to where I am today: 150 pounds lighter, unquantifiably freer emotionally, and immeasurably happier because I'm truly alive for the first time in my life. It's great to be lighter, but I spent the latter half of my 20's, entire 30's, and the first half of my 40's working on my self-esteem. Without it, life has no Magic...and all the skinny in the world won't help.
The biggest thing standing in the way of me making changes was food - and my overwhelming attraction to it. Easier said than done to simply eat less. For years I had no desire to give up the mass-quantities. No one was telling me what to do. In other words, there was no motivation. Thought motivation had left the building as far as I was concerned...and then I saw my genetic twin, Carnie Wilson looking breathtakingly happy and healthy and motivation was suddenly ringing my bell again. It's an essential element but it's also the wildcard. There's no explaining how or why it kicks in...or doesn't. Embarrassment, poor health, unhappiness weren't enough to get me motivated...for YEARS. But I kept working on self-acceptance and loving myself no matter what my size. I knew that was the key and one day, things came together. Doesn't make sense in today's world of dieting and quickie results. But that's my story and I'm sticking to it. If you're not in a place where you're motivated, trust me, you're well aware of it. All I can say is, ride it out with as much compassion as you can muster. Self-recrimination never got me anywhere.
I have decades of hardcore binge-eating under my belt. It's a tough tiger to tame...even when motivated, but absolutely possible. Here are a few suggestions if you feel like you want to end the cycle:

For the Love of God, don't make too many changes at once, it'll be overwhelming and you'll simply give up (who wouldn't?). I had an 'order of importance' list I adhered to when I started in January 2009. At the top were my most dangerous binge foods = the foods I had basically been existing on during the 6 months before I found YRG. Crossing them off was enough of a challenge. But I was ready to make the sacrifice. To get me through the withdrawls, I existed on lots of cheese (I needed the indulgence to get me through), but I made sure to ADD produce with it. Fruits and vegetables had not been a part of my food intake and I knew it was time to welcome them back into the fold.

At about month three is when I agreed to eliminate gluten and cow dairy. Dallas was adamant about it and I'm glad he was...probably wouldn't have done it without his strong-arming. The gluten wasn't really that hard because there are so many viable substitutes for bread, desserts, pasta, etc. The cow dairy hurt. Losing that emotional security blanket scared me. I thought it would be impossible since I was such a lifelong dairy-lover. But Dallas Page has this way of frightening people through the ethernet, and like I said, I was ready and willing, so I did it. Eliminating the dairy and gluten changed my body like nothing else I've done - and I'm a lifelong dieter who has tried just about everything.

And since I'm not dieting anymore, I don't play the 'never again' game. I have cheese when I really want it and I enjoy it and move on. When I use the word 'eliminate' I really mean, I don't exist on it like I once did. Cheese was doing me no favors...not even that longtime weight-loss tool cottage cheese. Just marketing malarkey. Cottage cheese really never helped me lose an ounce. Without cow dairy clogging my system, I feel SO much freer and more energetic. I noticed about 3 months into it my body actually felt like it was humming. And it probably was...with Gratitude.

If you're not ready to give something up, then ease back. Taper it a little...especially with the stuff you know is the most damaging. Try seltzer with lemon now and then instead of soda. Or gluten-free pasta instead of Chef Boyardee. You can even do macaroni and cheese with hard goat cheese and gluten-free pasta. Ditto for grilled cheese sandwiches. Check out Angella Cole's site www.mypickyeaters.com and www.glutenfreegoddess.blogspot.com for FANTASTIC gluten-free recipes. And if you're not a cook, there are plenty of gluten-free cookies and sweets on the market - most supermarkets have them in the health food section. In the beginning I wouldn't worry too much about eliminating sweets - if that's your crutch you may need it for a while. And from personal experience, sugar has not been harmful to me - in moderate amounts. When I get the urge, I have g-free cookies, cakes, cinnamon buns, etc. and they all have sugar. Gluten and it's unhealthy, inflammatory effects are what really pollutes the body. Same with mucous-producing cow dairy.

Bottom line is, unless it's a serious thyroid issue, those of us who have more than 50 pounds to get rid of are madly in LOVE food. I still adore food. It's no crime. It's quite a lovely thing to love food...but now I love it in a conscious state, not in a trance. There's something about knowing there's a beginning and end that makes eating far more pleasurable than it ever has been. And for this to be a long-term way of life, pleasure is definitely along for the ride. There are so many options: gluten-free stuffing at Thanksgiving, cream soups made with chevre or coconut milk, goat yogurt and g-free granola for breakfast, coconut milk ice cream bars, brown rice pudding, flourless chocolate cake. There are lots of options. It's absolutely possible to eat ENJOYABLY and be Healthy and Release excess fat. How else could I have dropped 150 pounds while retaining my sanity?

Photo Credit: Joan K. Lentini, Forward Vision Photography in Lake Luzerne, N.Y.

www.forwardvisionphotography.com

Eggs, Glorious (American Masala) Eggs

2010-06-01T22:31:00.000-07:00

This may be a tough one to believe, but chocolate really doesn’t do it for me. And neither does ice cream. To get to the core of my most hedonistic epicurean fantasies, all you have to do is crack an egg. And for God’s sake, don’t break the yolk. It’s creamy, cooked-just-till-warm egg yolks that send me into orbit every time. And preferably the deep-orange yolks of the elegant eggs laid at American Masala Farm in Washington County, N.Y.

http://www.suvir.com/farm.html

For reasons that revolve around the ethical treatment of animals and better health, I buy local eggs. It’s the only way to fly. And when I really want to go flying high, I drive 30 miles due east to American Masala Farm, where gentleman farmers Charlie Burd and Suvir Saran preside lovingly over their flock of Heritage chickens.

How lovingly?

Consider that Charlie decided years ago that run of the mill chicken feed was, in a word, inadequate. Instead, he offers his flock of Araucanas, Lakenvelders and New Hampshires homemade vegetarian broth brewed at his Viking stove. How’s that for going above and beyond?

“Charlie feeds them soups and stews that we eat ourselves…and so do our friends: Lebanese Lentil Soup, Lettuce and Tomato Soup, Spinach and Cauliflower Soup, Dhaansaak Stew and any other leftover soups from our kitchen,” explained Suvir. “We never add any animal based stock into our soups, and so they are great for the chickens. Charlie also feeds them all vegetarian scraps from the kitchen, both cooked and raw foods. If it is free of meat and eggs, they get it…and they LOVE it.

“These are not production layers; the girls lay eggs every two to four days…some better than others,” Suvir continued. “But when they do lay these eggs, it is totally worth the wait and the feed.”

While Suvir is often pulled away from farm life with duties that involve lecturing around the country, book-signings, and running Devi restaurant in Manhattan, Charlie sees that all runs smoothly at American Masala. If the arias of praise over the eggs are any indication, Charlie has found the perfect formula for feeding and loving the 120 chickens that supply lucky visitors and customers with unparalled delight.

How’s this for an endorsement:

“I've a cosmic hunch that the eggs from American Masala don't really come from chickens----that their yolks drip from the sun and their creamy, buttery texture flow from the cow that jumped over the moon. I eat a dozen a week."
-- Michael London of Mrs. London's Bakery & Cafe, Saratoga Springs, New York

And he’s not alone.

New York City resident Vicki Haupt counts the eggs as one of the highlights of a weekend visit to Suvir and Charlie’s farm. “Suvir and Charlie’s eggs are simply beautiful to behold - white, large, curvaceous,” says Haupt. “You know how eggs inspire and inform great art and symbolism? These are surely worthy of the finest visual and minds eye contemplation. Such a shame then to crack, but WOW, one alone is a veritable feast and, in Suvir's skillet, the best I have ever partaken of.”

Kim Sunee, author of the best-selling memoir “Trail of Crumbs: Hunger, Love, and The Search for Home” writes in her blog: “Rich, creamy and highly addictive, I would eat one of these gorgeous eggs every day if I lived here…”

Frank Vollkommer and his wife Jessica own The Chocolate Mill in Glens Falls, N.Y. Frank is a certified master pastry chef who grew up raising chickens in rural Saratoga County. When Charlie and Suvir introduced Jessica and Frank to the wonders of the American Masala egg, The Chocolate Mill’s menu was forever transformed.

“Each egg has a different colorful motif with shades of brown, green, white and speckled…the shells are thick and well developed as these birds lay only one egg a day without the pressured existence of commercially raised chickens,” said Frank. “The whites are rich in protein, stay intact when cooked and soufflé beautifully while the yolks are a rich deep yellow-orange with a velvet texture and incredible flavor.”

The Vollkommer’s have added the American Masala eggs to the a la carte menus as well as baking production. Frank was even inspired to create “The Charlie Burd Nest,” a mélange of scrambled American Masala eggs, fresh asparagus, red onion, and Nettle Meadow Goat Cheese in a house-made multi-grain bread nest, served with a roasted shallot-arugula salad. On a recent visit to The Chocolate Mill, I bypassed the pastries and ordered Eggs Boursin, a mound of scrambled American Masala Eggs topped with a velvety Boursin sauce and served with field greens. The kitchen staff was even sweet enough to toast the slice of gluten-free bread I brought with me. With their bright-gold color and sturdy texture, the Eggs Boursin were truly eggs the way they were meant to be enjoyed.

http://www.thechocolatemillcafe.com/

As much as I adore American Masala’s eggs, there’s something produced on the farm that gets my heart racing even faster: goose eggs. Every spring (tragically, this occurs only once a year) Suvir and Charlie’s snow white flock of geese lay white, voluptuous eggs the size of mini-footballs.

I thought I’d experienced every possible form of pleasure involving egg yolks. And then I made my first visit to the farm in 2007 to write a feature story on Suvir, and gasped as he fried me a goose egg. Even the sunny-side up version took nearly 15 minutes to complete and Suvir never broke his vigil over the cast iron skillet. I couldn’t take my eyes off the tangerine-sized yolk as the egg slowly sizzled in olive oil. Then he whipped out a microplane and block of Parmesan cheese and the giant egg was suddenly covered in a snowfall of pungent shavings. It’s no surprise that I report it to be the best egg of my life…leveraging the yolk alone into a single bite (that’s just how I roll with yolks) was worth the price of admission.

So when Goose Egg Season came this year, I called Charlie and Suvir and placed an order for a dozen American Masala Eggs, plus a few coveted goose eggs. True to their generous nature, they filled a Styrofoam box with as many goose eggs as would fit. Good thing. I was leaving for an out-of-state trip in three days and would need some seriously protective packaging.

First stop was a night at the Hotel Hershey in Pennsylvania where I shooed the bellhop away from the Styrofoam package, informing him that I would be the only one charged with the task of handling it. After a night in the confines of a hotel room refrigerator, the duck and goose eggs made their way south with me to Richmond, Va., where I regaled my sister Dory with the joys of superior eggs every morning of my visit.

A plate full of jewels from American Masala

Squash blossoms and sunny-side-up American Masala Eggs - No better way to start the day

A soft-boiled goose egg

...on gluten-free toast

Dory was delighted. Almost enough to consider enduring upstate winters once again…but not quite. She misses American Masala Eggs, but is glad for the experience of them…Doesn’t the look of bliss say it all?

How To Make A Salad

2010-05-28T21:27:00.000-07:00

If anyone has wondered why I've never posted a salad recipe it's because, well...salad and I are a love affair in progress. I eat them more occasionally than I'd like to admit. Now that summer and the farmers markets are here, I'm making a pledge to have at least one a month. Just kidding. But seriously, I'm always looking for ways to make them a little more appealing. And Viola! I came across the D-Man himself (Diamond Dallas Page) making a salad (via video) on the Team YRG website. It's a Food Network-worthy demonstration and worth a look. By the way, Diamond Dallas Page is the fitness guru who helped me kick 150 pounds out of my life. The crux of the equation was I listened to what he had to say. Sooo, looks like there will be many a chopped salad in my future:

Do you wanna know how to make a DDP Salad... Check THIS out! from Robert McLearren on Vimeo.

Buy Local!

2010-05-20T19:39:00.000-07:00

Dinner tonight: pork chops from Hidden Pasture Farm in North Pownal, Vt. baked in g-free bread crumbs, a sprinkling of Adobo and a finishing shower of Zataar. Side of sauteed green beans. Marvelous! This is part of the reason why I'm a part-time vegetarian...And for a change, I actually went out and met my meat. Fiona Harrar and Seth Hanauer treat every creature on their farm with TLC.

Tomorrow: Eggs from Mighty Food Farm:

http://www.mightyfoodfarm.com/

Bon Appetit!

♥

Ready For Lift-Off

2010-05-05T20:50:00.000-07:00

Israel 2006

Truth-Seekers, this is major: After a 21-year hiatus, I'm back in the 100's. It feels beyond good. Still amazed. Still contemplating how to properly celebrate. I could probably start by thanking Oprah Winfrey, Carnie Wilson, Dallas Page, Terri Lange, and the entire YRG Team. Now that I'm officially below the 200-pound mark, I can bungee jump legally. Only trouble is, the thought terrifies me to the core. Instead, I'm putting into motion my long-deferred dream of parasailing over Lake George this summer. Anyone want to come along?

Photo Credit:

Joan K. Lentini of Forward Vision Photography 2010

http://www.forwardvisionphotography.com/

Healing The Hurt Heart

2010-04-28T17:13:00.000-07:00

This isn’t my term; it’s from a “Hungry For The Truth” reader who sent me a beautiful letter today. She’s frustrated with herself because she hasn’t ‘gotten it’ yet. And she knows where I was three years ago – at a place that seemed like a million miles away from ‘getting it.’ I don’t even know if I’m comfortable with the term ‘getting it.’ I don’t want to put that much pressure or adulation on myself. The only thing I’m an expert in is my own f*&k-ups and victories. Just my own. It’s not easy trying to define an issue that’s too vast and nebulous to define. But here’s what I know, based on a quick outline of my life:

Childhood – The normal, happy kid had no idea when she stepped onto the school bus that her largeness was a crime against humanity punishable by emotional torture that was to be administered by secretly (but profoundly) insecure and unhappy boys and girls for the remainder of her years in the public school system. (By the by, I wasn’t fat. Larger and taller than most of the kids, yes. But I wasn’t fat. And there are pictures to prove it.)

Adolescence – After years of hearing the verbal reinforcements that I was fat (and ugly and stupid) I began to become that. Try focusing on math and social studies while putting your back into the construction and maintenance of a massive front that tells the world, ‘Oh everything’s just fine…” Pain…What’s that? But inside I was hurting. Significantly. And what do fat slobs do? They eat like pigs. May as well enjoy some food if people have already decided I’m fat. An added bonus: it dulled the pain and made me feel better.

20’s – Teen years of crash dieting and bingeing, sneaking food, and despising myself with a passion leave me burnt out and hopeless. Life intervenes with a hypnosis tape for weight loss given to me as a Christmas gift. I fall asleep to it every night for a year and drop 100 pounds. I’m delighted with the transformation because now it means I’m OK. As in, a valid human being worthy of respect and (at long last) admiration…and maybe a few bushels of rose petals showered before me wherever I walk. Ah, but there’s a snag. I haven’t changed on the inside. I still see myself as the fat, hideous creature that was singled out on the bus. The one my mother was ashamed of. The one who weighed more than most football players. And wait a minute…why are people being nice to me now? I’m the same person…and I’m not sure I like all these guys suddenly leering in my direction. See ‘ya.

30’s – After a second 100-pound-weight-loss-and gain-back, I’ve had enough. Doesn’t Life have more in mind for me than loving food more than everyone says I should, weighing more than everyone says I should, and hating myself exactly as everyone says I should? Haven’t millions of years of intelligent life evolving on planet earth led us further than this? I decide there’s got to be more to the human experience and give up dieting and the desire for other people’s approval for-EVER (interesting how these both had to be disposed of in tandem, isn’t it?). I create a new syllabus for my life. A course outline that includes radical self-acceptance which begins with getting to know who the heck I am without the labels and stereotypes put in place by the fat-phobic culture that’s uniquely American. And I realize that part of the flowering into acceptance includes eating. Without shame. Sans remorse. No self-recrimination allowed. I learned to eat out in the open. Even (GASP!) in public. Even in front of my mother. And about those knuckle-draggers who thought it was appropriate to verbalize their disapproval of my size during this era... Let’s just say I enlightened a few of them along the way. I may not have reversed their opinion, but they encountered me at a point where my rage was ready to come out and play. The scathing words I unleashed in their direction left them smarting enough to at least shut up. Some even scurried away like terrified dogs with their ears back. And I have no problem admitting I loved that part.

40’s – I mastered self-acceptance with flying colors. Easier said than done, I realize, but here’s a hint to get you started: You decide you’re tired of carrying the load around and put it down. By load I don’t mean what’s on your hips or stomach. I’m referring to the vitriolic load of crap put there by society, your family of origin, spouse, the Fashion Police on E!, and the most relentless chorus of all, your own inner critic. You may very well not be tired of bearing the load. I thought it was my duty for years, but everyone has their own timetable. I also enjoyed food fully during this era. And in a more healthy way than in my teens and 20’s. I no longer ate in hiding, but with friends and family in ways that were celebratory. I nurtured my love of cooking and travel and ended up a food writer. I was fortunate to be doing what I loved for a living but there was one problem – I’d eaten my way into a prison – one that made movement in general much more labored than it needed to be (no surprise there), as well as subtle things like sitting and sleeping. I wanted to be lighter and freer but had no clue how to do it – not by dieting – the mechanism that made me imbalanced from the get-go. So it was the classic case of the student being ready and the teacher appearing. Corny as it sounds, sometimes the most significant roads really do lead to Oprah. After seeing Carnie Wilson interviewed on Oprah in January 2009, I tracked down Dallas Page, the guy who helped her. Dallas Page and Terri Lange of YRG Fitness took me on as a project of sorts. They saw I meant business and gave me their guidance carte blanche. The ins and outs of the food choices and exercise is another topic, and I’ve blogged about it extensively. Today I want to address the importance of the inner work my reader refers to:

Dear Stacey –
I hope I can find what works for me soon. Personally, I think you are making such great progress because you have done the very hard internal work necessary to overcome that heart hurt that keeps us all from respecting and loving ourselves enough to really care for ourselves.

This spectacular lady hit it on the head. I have done the hard inner work. I had to. I had to be my own advocate in a world that said I wasn't deserving of dignity or respect because of my size. It was crucial that I feel and believe I’m a valid human being no matter what size I order from the Lane Bryant catalog. It’s amazing how life can shift when you summon the courage to question the status quo. I could have gone on believing society’s craziness. You know, pearls of time-honored wisdom such as a woman should be treated with scorn if she doesn’t look good in a bikini and stilettos, Kate Winslet’s chubby, and Marilyn Monroe is officially rotund. It took a considerable amount of unmitigated will and unflinching courage to swim upstream. I had a choice stay where I was and be miserable or kick my way out of it. If anyone’s crapping on you now, question it. I did, and it saved my life. I don’t know if I’d still be alive if I didn’t intervene on my behalf. It was that dire.

Now - Thanks to doing the inner, the outer was finally able to welcome the healing forces that led to a 140-pound weight drop. Being 12 sizes smaller hasn’t erased pre-existing problems from my life but GOD it feels great to be free physically. Losing the equivalent of three runway models (and having 20 inches disappear from my hips) doesn’t mean pain and problems don’t arise. C’mon, you know better than that. Just last week I had some painful stuff crop up out of nowhere and push my buttons like they haven’t been pounded in years. It’s not really suitable for public ink, but let’s just say I was deemed to be, well, not quite good enough because I’m not (and probably never will be) suitable for a starring role on “Bay Watch.”

Ah well, just another wake-up call about human nature. As hurt as I feel, I know it’s truly the other party’s issue. There will always be men who view life as a wet t-shirt contest just waiting for them to judge it. As for me, I couldn’t be more OK with who I am…inside and out.

Epilogue: In the spirit of loving myself no matter what the scale says, I’m posting an old picture from my 40th birthday. I’m well over 300 pounds…still in love with pink…and know without question my true worth.

What’s your Vitameatavegamin?

2010-03-15T06:12:00.000-07:00

Every now and then, I find myself missing Lucille Ball, and since “I Love Lucy” reruns aren’t on TV often enough, I get my needs met on Youtube, where I found one of my favorite scenes from her lexicon of physical comedy: The Vitameatavegamin episode. In it, Lucy realizes her longtime dream of being on TV and schemes behind Ricky’s back to be the spokes-model for a vitamin elixir. Problems arise when she has to ingest heaping spoonfuls of it on the air…and make a convincing case for being in love with the way it tastes. Yesterday, as I watched Lucy swallow, wince, and lie right through the twinkling smile she manufactured for the camera, I was struck with revelation: I’ve played a similar game for years, and it’s a big part of why I ate my way to 345 pounds.

Swallowing something I detest and pretending to like it is something I did so many times, it became knee-jerk. It became so automatic; I didn’t realize how blithely I tolerated backstabbing bosses and co-workers at a toxic job or an insulting remark from a ‘well-meaning’ friend.

But nowhere was this coping mechanism more pronounced than at the molten core of my personal life. Anyone who’s familiar with my writing career knows about the opinion essays for magazines, newspapers, and public radio. Many of them dug deep into personal topics that were sometimes painful to reveal publicly: my weight, love-hate affair with food, my father’s decline into Alzheimer’s, size bigotry. But the one topic I steered clear of was my relationship of nearly 20 years. That’s right, I said 20.
“You know,” a close friend pointed out one day after reading one of my revelation-filled essays. “You treat your relationship as if it doesn’t exist.”

An awakening thud to the gut seven years ago. And still, I did nothing about it. Why kick up the mud that I willed so hard to settle at the bottom of my psyche? I thought I’d devised a brilliant way to keep the waters muck-free: Ignore the things that my gut (always golden in its accuracy) was telling me. It’s not that I didn’t hear my gut when it sent distress signals to my brain. I always hear…but do I pay attention? For 20 years I convinced myself that sexual compatibility, intellectual chemistry, and standing on common moral ground were insignificant over the long haul. Can you imagine the energy this took? It may sound small potatoes but it turned out to be a lot of burden to live with.

This was my Vitameatavegamin: spending nearly half my life with a man I was never in love with. Trite as it sounds, the reasons why I stayed so long were, ahem, complicated. It wasn’t a horrible relationship. If he’d been abusive it would have been a no-brainer. There were the Christmas Eves we watched “The Little Drummer Boy” by the light of the tree, both of us crying at the end when the drummer boy’s lamb is healed at the manger. The strawberry birthday cakes I baked for him every June. And the 'Very Important Person' certificate he surprised me with in 1992 when I was unemployed and felt like a complete loser.

To this day he remains one of the sweetest people to have ever come into my life. And I’ll never stop being grateful for the way he was able to love me. During our two decades together he saw me gain an alarming amount of weight. He knew my history of emotional abuse and never once said an unkind word to me about my size. No one, and I mean no one (except my dogs) have given me that kind of unconditional love.

And about that triple-digit weight-gain: part of it I’m sure was me trying to prove that I was unlovable. If I got fat enough, even he would throw in the towel. I don’t think he ever would have. But that was only part of the eating equation. My other reasons were to smother the feelings of emptiness that came with being in a romantically loveless relationship. I thought a lot about the validity of simply going through life with a companion. It’s a gift that some never get, so why should I complain? Passion is intoxicating, but it fades, it’s childish, it’s an unnecessary prop. Besides, I wasn’t that unhappy. I simply liked food more than the average person. So l lived on Italian bread soaked in melted butter. No one’s perfect. It had to count for something that we cared about each other. It did count. But it wasn’t enough.

I became pretty good at lying to myself. But there’s some sort of gravitational law about truth. It can be sequestered, reconfigured, and smothered, but it has a way of winning in the end. It would pop up in front of my face when I least expected it, scaring me like a jack-in-the-box: Looking at photos of us doing our best to look the part of a happy couple, my escalating binge-eating, his attraction to gambling which had long ago spiraled out of control. Like a lot of couples in crisis, there was the phase where I took refuge in declaring him as the source of all my misery. But he wasn’t the problem. It was me and my choice to live a lie.

Then, a year ago, I did what I thought I’d never have the courage to do: I told him. It was hard, even a little painful. But not nearly as brutal as I thought it was going to be. He might not be a white-collar brainiac, but he happens to be a highly intuitive soul who knew I was telling a simple truth: I wasn’t happy. He also knew that I didn’t hate him and there was no other man standing by in the wings, waiting to pull me onto his stallion and whisk me away to a magically new life under the protective cover of his cape.

And because I was able to finally admit the truth, it left me able to appreciate him without the entanglement of pretense. He and I are friends now. Something I wasn’t sure would be possible. It’s not always easy. I was born with a uterus, which means sometimes my sense of duty and guilt can be exponential. He didn’t want our relationship to end and I know there’s a part of him that’s hurting because of it. Sometimes that weighs on me…And there’s not much I can do about that other than live with it.

I’m at peace now with releasing that burden I carried for so long. Not surprisingly, taking the big risk was followed by a torrent of weight melting off of me. And while it’s a major part of the puzzle, it’s only one. That’s what I’m learning through all of this: health and balance are multi-faceted. I can’t just focus on one area: food, feelings, exercise, relationships, desires, passion, calories, it’s all part of the picture. Knowing which area needs my immediate attention is a learning process.

Who knows, maybe I could have let it slide for another 20 years, but I don’t think so. January 2009 brought to my doorstep some profoundly life-changing moments and this was one of them. Something in me had reached the limit. I couldn’t do it anymore and the time had come to make a choice: Live for me or live for someone else.

Having this new physical and emotional freedom is gratifying beyond words. But the best part is hearing what people tell me over and over about my eyes: they have life in them again. Hallelujah. It’s about time.

Photo: Joan K. Lentini

Forward Vision Photography

Lake Luzerne, N.Y.

www.forwardvisionphotography.com

I Wanted Carrot Cake and A Few Bags of Lindt Truffles...Here's What I Did Instead

2010-02-24T17:53:00.000-08:00

Here’s a longstanding myth that needs to be busted: just because someone loses the equivalent of three Victoria’s Secret models in body weight does not mean the passionate, sometimes dysfunctional tango with food is over. It never ends. No matter how low the numbers get on the scale. If you remember nothing else, promise me you’ll start to ponder the fact that shrinking in size doesn’t vaporize any pre-existing problems from your life. Hey, I LOVE being down 12 sizes, but I’m still me. I still wrestle with moments of wanting to gallop to the nearest supermarket and have my way with the potato chip aisle. So there may be no magic formula for dropping weight, but I hope the following helps in some way: Mood swings can strike without warning, physiological hunger is a regularly occurring fact of life, and so is a desire for food (which feels remarkably similar to hunger) that’s rooted insidiously in psychological yearnings. I experience all of the above much more acutely during winter, when my serotonin levels plunge in tandem with the mercury.

If it were as cut and dry as diet and exercise, I’d simply hand the baton to Jenny Craig and blog about pink lipstick. Going the distance with a new way of life can sound exciting on paper, but the unglamorous reality involves slogging through the mud of resistance and negotiating the tightrope of temptation. Depending on how well stocked with options my pantry is, sometimes I’m lucky enough to walk the high wire with a net.

So this afternoon, after doing a heart-thumping session with the YRG Double Black Diamond DVD, a craving for sweets came a-knocking. My strategy for managing sudden desires like this centers around a "know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em" philosophy. In other words, I’ve realized there’s a time for molasses cookies, pavlova drizzled in chocolate sauce, or one of Angella Cole’s astoundingly delicious gluten-free cupcakes (her cookbook is in the works)…and there’s a time to take a pass on the decadence. I weigh the severity of the craving against questions like, how stressed am I? Is this about emotional turmoil (big or small) that I'm trying to ignore? What does the rest of my day look like in terms of food intake? Or, is it art? Sometimes because of superior ingredients, presentation, or both, food qualifies as art and sometimes for that reason alone I dive in and enjoy it. But today, an honest look at the checklist had me falling with relief into the safety net instead. Since I always make sure my pantry is packing protection, I was able to assemble a little spontaneous gratification out of homemade cranberry sauce*, a one-ounce bag of pistachios, and some unsweetened coconut. The combination may seem odd, but it had a magical effect on the sugar craving.

That’s the other thing I’ve learned. When I’m craving something sweet, it doesn’t necessarily mean I want a banana split or glazed donuts. Yes, Virginia…sometimes something much lower on the food chain actually does it for me.

* See blog post: Unbelievably Easy Cranberry Sauce...Sans Sugar

Unbelievably Easy Cranberry Sauce...Sans Suger

2010-02-24T17:43:00.000-08:00

Cosmopolitan magazine...circa 1988. It's the last place I ever thought I'd find a usable recipe. But I did. And it was so simple, I commmitted it to memory in the confines of that sweat bath of a studio apartment I rented on the upper west side that summer.

There's no sugar in this, which is amazing for a cranberry recipe. Use it any way you like: in yogurt, oatmeal, on ice cream, waffles. No rules. Except one: don't under any circumstances leave the stove while this is simmering. You haven't really cleaned until you've cleaned molten cranberry sauce off a burner.

I'm naming this concoction in honor of the woman who (on some level) must have given it the green light:

Cranberry Sauce A La Helen Gurley Brown

1 bag fresh cranberries
1 can frozen grape juice concentrate (100% juice)

Place both ingredients in a sauce pan on medium heat and cover. Cook about 5-10 minutes, or until it begins to simmer. Uncover and turn heat to medium-low. Let simmer for about 30 minutes, stirring occasionally. Let cool before serving or storing. Keeps for several weeks in the refrigerator. Months if frozen.

Bon Appetit!

Better Than Chef Boyardi

2010-02-10T12:12:00.000-08:00

A big part of the reason I've dropped 135 pounds in a year's time is the fact that I'm gluten-free...and I avoid cow dairy (notice I didn't commit to saying I never eat cheese?) This means I eat as though I'm celiac and lactose intolerant even though I'm neither. I adopted these changes at the urging of my fitness guru, Diamond Dallas Page (www.yrgfitness.com). There was some initial resistance on my part (especially where dairy was concerned). And yes, I still miss cheese sometimes. You know, little things like the way it oozes across my tongue when it's melted and warm. But the fact is, I'm down 12 sizes, so it's kind of a fair trade.

Spaghetti I crave occasionally, and when I do, I thank GOD for the creation of Rice Pasta, which is actually quite good if it's cooked properly. So when I get the urge for that canned semolina indulgence from childhood, I know exactly what to do. Did you know that unlike the fictitious Betty Crocker, there actually was a chef named for that line of cans filled with unspeakably mushy pasta? The guy's name was Ettore Boiardi. He emigrated from Italy at age 16 and immediately launched into a cooking career. According to his story, the spaghetti and sauce he served at his restaurants were legendary and demand eventually drove him into factory production (and the phonetic spelling of his name). And we all know how far south the quality went. I'm not saying the stuff didn't taste good. Man, some of my most memorable binges involved family sized cans of his ravioli, microwaved and blanketed with slices of American cheese and eaten in a semi-conscious state in front of a 'Bewitched' rerun. Those were the days.

But with the passage of time has come the evolution of my pallate. Which has resulted in a nouveau version of the stuff I grew up on.

Aside from using rice pasta, what makes this recipe different is cooking the pasta risotto-style. When you do this, the starch from the pasta doesn't leach out into the boiling water and eventually poured down the drain. Once you cook pasta this way you'll probably never want to go back to boiling. It's a little more time-consuming but worth it. I hope wherever Ettore Boiardi is now, he's proud:

Risotto-Style Rice Pasta with Marinara
1 pound rice spaghetti
1 large can of tomato juice
1 32-ounce can tomato sauce
2 TBS. extra virgin olive oil
Grated sheep's milk peccorino cheese

Pour the tomato juice into a large sauce pan and cover, heating on medium heat until bubbling. While juice is heating, break spaghetti into 3-4 inch sections. (Cooking pasta risotto-style requires pasta that's already small, ie, penne, or made small by breaking. Too much stirring involved). Add the oil to the juice and stir, followed by the broken spaghetti. Continue stirring until the pasta softens. Eventually, most of the liquid will absorb into the pasta. If you like a generous backdrop of sauce, add all or part of the can of tomato sauce. Continue stirring often or else the pasta will stick together (I find rice pasta to be gummier than semolina). When thoroughly heated, serve and sprinkle with peccorino.

Bon Apetit!

By the way, I still can't hear Elizabeth Montgomery's voice without getting a Chef BoyArDee craving. Thank God ravioli was as hardcore as it got for me.

Dead Dieter Walking

2010-01-08T21:13:00.000-08:00

I don’t recommend watching this entire clip, but it’s all I could find on YouTube. A 90-second glimpse is enough to paint the emotional picture of the dread that’s coming. In spades. A clear sense that someone’s life, in no uncertain terms, is on the verge of being brought to an end.

Uncountable times, I’ve lived this dread. Perhaps not quite to the excruciating extent that Sean Penn portrays so brilliantly, but I’m familiar with the soul-sucking rhythms of the ‘dead man walking’ ritual.

It’s the pre-dieting rite of passage that’s every bit as bitter as it is sweet. Card-carrying dieters...you know what I’m talking about: the last meal. Or, more accurately, the last good meal we’ll ever have…a passionate good-bye kiss to the foods we actually enjoy eating.

Because it’s all about extremes, isn’t it? What else is there? What is this thing known as the middle road? I couldn’t be trusted with food. So lockdown was imposed. The ironic thing about brute force is, it doesn’t work. It doesn’t reform prisoners and it doesn’t cure dieters of what truly ails them.

The groundwork for extremes was laid early for me – at age 10 when I was put on my first official diet, courtesy of our family doctor, whom I’ll refer to as Dr. No. My father loved Dr. No's philosophy because, in addition to a strict, nearly fatless diet, he prescribed a two-day binge to precede the part where we’re stripped of dignity and personal freedom. I lost track of how many times my father and I jumped on and off the Crazy-Wheel. But the bulging paper grocery bags we’d haul home after a visit to Dr. No's office were filled with the building blocks of our two-day farewell feast. Things we promised (more adamantly each time) we would never eat again: pork chops, potatoes with butter, creamy cascades of Stouffer’s chipped beef over toasted white bread, chocolate marshmallow ice cream, crowned with a fluffy head of Cool Whip.

48 hours later, the menu did a 180: dry string beans and a soft boiled egg for breakfast; tuna splashed with cider vinegar for lunch; and a dinner of poached chicken breasts and iceberg lettuce. Halfway through the day I was dazed with both hunger and depression.

Why hasn't anyone been more vocal about stating what's obvious? That diets are just plain mean?

I could recite a laundry list of why dieting hasn’t worked for me, but probably the biggest clue that they’re a monumental set-up for failure is the way they begin: with a ‘life is over’ implication that’s about as appealing as being led to the execution room.

Somewhere along the way, I realized that this method (that is still inexplicably embedded in our collective psyche as a viable answer) is really the definition of futility. If dieting could have killed the part of me that loves food, is drawn to it, wrings pleasure from it, dieting would have done it…the first time around. It wasn’t until after my second 100-pound gain-back that I decided I would not be going back for more. That was in 1990. Not knowing what else to do, I did what I always did when I wasn’t dieting. I ate. A lot. True, I got bigger each year, but not having the schizophrenic agony of the crazed ‘in and out/off and on’ cycles to contend with brought a welcome sense of peace.

So no one is more surprised than I am that this past year saw a torrent of personal transformation that included dropping 130 pounds. This time though, I did it through listening to the intelligence of my body. It's probably hard to believe, but I actually forgot that my body is intelligent. I also did a lot of listening to Diamond Dallas Page of YRG Fitness (www.yrgfitness.com), Terri Lange, an amazing woman who has kept her weight off for 8 years, and nutritionist Bernadette Saviano of Atlanta, Ga.

I get asked lots of questions now about how I did it. And last week someone wanted to know if I had a ‘last supper.’ When I began this new way of eating, this new relationship to food, that didn’t even occur to me. In my mind, it would have been too much of an implication that I was beginning a diet. So there was no burgeoning banquet table awash in ‘parting is such sweet sorrow’ sentiment.

That’s because the foods I love have all been invited along for the ride. Yes, I’ve relegated them to a different position in the pecking order...downgraded their ticket, if you will. But they’re still in the picture. It’s a full picture now that includes exercise, feeling the feelings, experimenting with new flavors and textures (mashed rutabaga is actually really goooood), and respecting who I am: someone who loves fried chicken. There I SAID it. Man, it feels good to be out of the closet.

When The Going Gets Tough...The Tough Make Eggplant Latkes

2010-01-03T19:45:00.000-08:00

I may be middle-aged, but I'm not anywhere near the home-bound stage. I live, however, in the Adirondacks which means this time of year, being home-bound is sometimes a reality. Yeah, I could have gone out, but when it's all of 11 degrees out, it's just not very enticing.

And not surprisingly, I could feel the mercury rising on my desire to eat. I wanted comfort from the frigid winds seeping through the windows, relief from the restlessness of not doing a six-mile walk, and a release from the frustration of not being where I'd rather be at this particular moment: soaking in 70-degree turquoise waters off the shores of Aruba.

Today was one of those days where, had I been in that state of permissiveness I used to live in constantly, I would have had it all. I would have eaten it all. Anything in my path, in my line of vision that looked appealing. Until I could no longer sit upright comfortably. And then, with the pleasure part of my trip over, I'd sink a little deeper into the couch as I realized those pre-existing emotions mentioned above hadn't been alleviated...they still jabbed at me, coupled with that dreadful feeling of chemical overload every overeater is familiar with.

So here's how I handled it instead: It was one of those times that comfort from food was in order. It's not that my encounters with food usually aren't pleasurable...that's why we eat, right? But there was an S.O.S. quality to this one. There was a part of me that wanted to make like a Hoover and drain the cupboards dry. So I took a good look out the window, shook my head at the dreary landscape and acknowledged (rather than shove underground) that I was feeling the winter blues in spades.

Then I reached for an eggplant. Salt and fat get me way more excited than sugar, and I knew the time for a batch of Eggplant Latkes had arrived. God they were good! Hit the spot, augmented lunch perfectly, and I didn't feel drugged, bloated, and dazed when it was over. Still not thrilled that it's only January 3 and winter has only just begun...but at least I didn't compound the problem.

Eggplant Latkes

Preheat oven to 300

1 large eggplant, cut in half lengthwise
2 TBS. Rice Flour (tapioca or chick pea works also)
3 tsp. Zataar
Salt to taste
Grapeseed oil (perfect for frying because of its high smoking point. If you don't have any, use light olive oil, not extra virgin)

Spray baking sheet with non-stick cooking spray and place eggplant face down. Bake at 300 for 30 minutes and turn oven off. Leave eggplant in an let cool for 15 minutes. When eggplant has become cool enough to touch, scoop out the eggplant's flesh with a fork into a mixing bowl. To get it all, use a knife to scrape at the end. Add flour and Zataar and mix thoroughly with a fork. Heat oil in a frying pan over medium to medium high heat. Use enough oil to cover bottom of pan. Drop eggplant mixture by the spoonful, making tiny pancakes (a bit bigger than a silver dollar). Fry for about 5-7 minutes on each side or until crisp. Flip and repeat. Transfer to plate, sprinkle with salt and serve immediately! Don't you feel better now?

This recipe evolved quite by accident last month when I realized (after the eggplant was out of the oven) I wasn't in the mood for Baba Ganooj.

Amazingly simple ingredients: mashed eggplant, rice flour, and Zataar

The Sweet Sound of Sizzle...

I do it a little differently: salt on the plate first...

...Then the latkes

Crispy perfection. Just salty and decadent enough to make me happy, but minus a hangover.

Bon Appetit!

Dinner Tonight

2009-12-30T17:28:00.000-08:00

I get asked quite often by the curious, by those who want to bring about some transformation, what I eat. In a nutshell, I avoid cow dairy and gluten. Not because I'm lactose intolerant or have Celiac Disease, but because my Guiding Lights, Dallas Page and Terri Lange, recommended it. Said it would be well worth the initial sacrifice. Several months later, I'm down 130 pounds...I think they were right.

I'm by no means suggesting that my problems were magically erased by eliminating these two things from my food intake. If only. The whole point of this blog is to underscore the reality that significant excess weight and being a little too in love with food is a complex issue. I required much more than a food plan to heal. Recovery and balance are rooted in the physical (eating and exercise), mental/emotional (riding out the feelings that I would normally douse with the chemical effects of fatty carbs), and spiritual (paying attention to that part of me which is incorporeal, if you will. The essence of who I am).

But bottom line is, I've gotta eat, right? When I started working with Dallas Page (www.yrgfitness.com) 10 months ago, I knew some serious fine-tuning of my eating habits was in order (must of had something to do with living on potato chips and clam dip). But I also knew I couldn't be too strict with myself because otherwise I'd just be looking at my watch counting down the minutes to a prison-break.

Dieting is a big part of what not only got me fat, but got me extremely out of balance on all three of the levels I mention above. Twice in my life I've shed 100 pounds and gained it back. The second gain-back turned me off of dieting for good. So I went to the other extreme and ate whatever and I mean whatEVER I wanted for 15 years. Hey, I had a lot of fun along the way. I'm not on a high horse here. Remember Whitney Houston telling Oprah she had some 'gooood times' during her drugging years? I totally relate. In some ways the 15 years of eating was a spiritual journey. The bigger I got the more determined I was to prove to the world and our country's fat-phobic society that I was still a worthy human being. And lemme tell you, if self-esteem can be nailed at 345 pounds, it's nailed. How I felt physically was another story. I guess in some ways my good genes worked against me: I had no health problems, blood pressure was normal, no family history of heart disease or cancer, cholesterol good, yada-yada. But airplane travel and movie theater seats became unthinkable. And I wore black everyday for 15 years which I didn't realize until a few months ago, I hated. There was no proverbial dire warning handed to me from my doctor, but I couldn't deny that my limited mobility was really not that fun to live with. Which is why I became willing to eat less and do the fine-tuning required with certain food choices.

My best advice when people ask me about food is that it ultimately has to be tailored to your preferences and dislikes. Who knows yourself better than you? And that's how I handled my transition from bingeing to balance. Don't have a sweet tooth but I love salt and fat. When I crave it I make eggplant latkes for dinner. (Don't knock it, they're AMAZING!). And when I'm having a bad day and want to swan dive back into a bowl of clam dip, I make a dairy-free version using tofu cream cheese and a can of minced clams (it may sound lame, and no, it's not as good as the kind I made with Philadelphia Cream Cheese, but I'm down 10 sizes. Fair trade). And vegetables? You could call it a love affair in progress. I've never been much of a fan. But my goal is balance, so I incorporate them as painlessly as I possibly can.

Since it's absolutely freeeeezzzzing where I live, I made a puree tonight that warmed my stomach and my heart. Here's the recipe if you want to try. Bon Appetit!

Cauliflower-Scallion Puree

1 bag frozen cauliflower florets
3 ounces sheep's milk feta, crumbled
1/3 cup tofu sour cream or goat's milk yogurt
1 bunch scallions, rinsed and chopped
Salt to taste

Place cauliflower in large sauce pan. Add enough water to just cover bottom of the pan (essentially you'll be steaming the vegetables). Sprinkle with salt. Add chopped scallions, sprinkle with a little more salt. Cook covered over medium-high heat until water reaches a boil, then turn heat back to medium and continue cooking for another 10 minutes, or until cauliflower is fork-tender. Turn heat off and add feta and yogurt. Cover and let the heat from the vegetables work through it for a few minutes. Then puree everything with an immersion blender or in a food processor.

This is JUST what I needed tonight!

...admittedly, not very exciting, which is why pureeing them is IMPERATIVE.

...lumpless perfection.

The sun set at 3:30 p.m. today, it's arctic outside, a tangible reminder of spring is in order.

There Will Always Be Sacrifice

2009-12-26T21:01:00.000-08:00

I'm not sure what was more important to me: food itself or the concept of avoiding sacrifice.

For so many years, I didn't want to sacrifice food, quanitity, or flavor. That was the most unthinkable and most unacceptable punishment I could think of. And it fit nicely with my mission at the time (1990-2009), which was to be militantly against society's standard of what women are supposed to look like. Oh yeah, and that women aren't supposed to admit they enjoy food. I must say, I took it pretty far, and actually ended up enlightening a few knuckle-draggers along the way.

But there's always a yin to every yang. So while every taste bud in my mouth wanted for nothing, there was some stuff going on below the neck that I didn't want to acknowledge. Exactely a year ago I stepped on the scale at my doctor's office and for once, left my eyes open (for years I'd either look away or shut my eyes whenever I had to get on a scale). I knew I'd be looking at an all-time high, and as the nurse said the numbers '345' aloud, a little voice somewhere inside said, 'Honey, the party's over.'

This sacrifice thing contains more than a little irony: When I wasn't sacrificing with food, I was sacrificing physical freedom and mobility. After finding YRG and being counseled by Dallas Page and Terri Lange, I started to accept that physical freedom would mean eating significantly less food, and I became willing to do it.

Gone were the torrid make-out sessions with Italian bread limp with cascades of melted butter, bags of potato chips, bowls of clam dip, glistening french fries buried in salt-showers. Oh I could go on! But I had to trade it in if I wanted the mobility, the freedom, the joys of not being in prison. Never thought it could be done. I loved food too much. But I'm living proof it can be done. (Note to anyone who adores food and/or has ridden with a lifetime gate pass the diet-binge roller coaster: by no means does this mean I gave up pleasureable eating. More on that in later posts. God I LOVE Food!)

Guess what I'm saying is, there will always be sacrifice. It's up to me what form it takes.

Sometimes...Daily Newspapers Contain Prophecy

2009-12-22T18:24:00.000-08:00

What a wild ride it's been. As these photos illustrate, I like food. Who doesn't? Did I like it more than the average kid? Who knows. It could have been a molotov cocktail of genetics and being born at a time when the fast food age was dawning. Unearthing the origins aren't as important as what happened: hardcore dieting by age 10. Followed by an infinity wheel of hell that spun me into vertigo. For the next 35 years it would be either deprivation and gluttony. Nothing in the middle.

And there was nothing out there powerful enough to make it stop.

You’d think the pain of being bullied at school would have been enough. Or having to sneak into the boy’s department of Sears to buy my clothes. Or gaining back 100 pounds after uncountable consecutive Weight Watcher meetings. Or stepping on the scale and buckling with shock as I look down and see the red arrow point to 305.

You would think one of these would sufficiently entice reformation.

But the truth is, there’s not enough motivation in the world, negative or positive, to change the behavioral blueprint of someone who targets food with the determination of a missile seeking the nearest heated object.

What do we do with that primal desire implanted in all of us to seek pleasure and avoid pain? Mother Nature’s most foolproof survival skill has become an Achilles heel in the age of instant gratification, whether it’s credit cards, cocaine, or crème de menthe brownies.

For most of my life I’ve been dancing with desire. On the surface, it appeared to be a desire for food, but food is only the mask my desire wears on the occasion that it wants the things I never new I was truly longing for: Love, a sense of belonging, self-acceptance, and balance. The core of my story is how seeking a high from food has run me ragged, or rather, how my desire to feel better than I did an hour ago, or 10 minutes ago runs me ragged, how I struggled with the cycle for decades, and lived with monumental weight gain, residual bigotry, and self-hatred, until I finally found a way out.

What sets my story apart from other Cinderella weight-loss transformations is mine occurred from the inside out. Though it runs counter to the logic of the (inherently corrupt) diet industry, showering myself with acceptance, empathy, and patience proved to be the Holy Grail of lasting peace and meaningful change.

That's the Truth. And that's what I'm committed to exploring. Wanna come?