The Delightfully Healthy Blog

Heirlooms and Toast

One of the many wonderful things about ChuckieT is that he likes to cook.  It works out very well, because I love having someone cook for me just as much as I love to cook myself.  And this is the perfect time of year to experiment in the kitchen, because there are so many wonderful, fresh ingredients to play with.  The fresher the ingredients, of course, the less you have to do with them.  In fact, the less you should do with them.  Just stand back and let them shine on their own.  And that's exactly what ChuckieT did this weekend with our heirloom tomatoes, fresh from the garden.  [ETA:  Mea culpa, mea culpa.  Our tomatoes are German Stripes, not Green Stripes.  Oops!]  He was gracious enough to share his recipe with me, and allow me to share it with you.  I hope you enjoy it as much as we did!  (Sorry there aren't any pictures - we were too hungry.)

Heirloom Bruschetta*

Ingredients

For topping:

• 2 medium heirloom tomatoes (he used Green German Stripes from our garden), chopped to 1/2 inch, de-seeded and drained
• 1/3 orange bell pepper, chopped to 1/2 inch
• 1/2 small cucumber (to equal 1/2 to 1/3 the amount of tomatoes) de-seeded and chopped to 1/2 inch
• 1 teaspoon or so of fresh medium hot pepper (NOT habanero) with NO seeds and minimal ribs(the white stuff where the heat is)
• 1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon of fresh mint, minced
• 1 clove of garlic, minced
• 1/4 teaspoon of dried tarragon
• Touch of garlic powder
• Sea salt and pepper to taste

For bruschetta:

• Whole wheat sour dough bread (or whatever you prefer), sliced
• Extra virgin olive oil (the best quality you can afford)
• Soft goat cheese (the best quality you can afford)

Directions

Mix topping ingredients together in a bowl and set aside.

Brush slices of bread thoroughly with olive oil .  Grill until crisp on both sides.  Spread with soft goat cheese and top with tomato mixture.  Serve and eat immediately.  Wipe large, contented smile off face (optional).

Thank you, ChuckieT!

* We originally called it Heirloom Crostini, but then I got to wondering about the difference between bruschetta and crostini, and so I looked it up.  Turns out, crostini are little toasts (usually baguette sized) which are most often baked and then topped with various things, while bruschetta is the toast itself, usually from a larger loaf, and brushed with oil and/or garlic and toasted and/or grilled.  So technically, what ChuckieT made was bruschetta with toppings.  Or you could just call it delicious and stop there.

Alias

I've been thinking about various things as I get more in to blogging.  Things like privacy, and how much information is too much information.  I'm a pretty private person who has nonetheless spent her life asking for attention; first with acting, then writing, teaching, counseling.  Now blogging.  I've always been a bundle of strange dichotomies.  Or just strange.  Anyway...

I've gotten tired of refering to my husband here as "my husband."  But, in the interest of protecting his privacy, I didn't want to use his real name.  So, the other day, I asked him what he wanted his blog name to be.  He took about a nanosecond to think about it, then said "ChuckieT." 

It fits.  And so it is.  Henceforth, my husband's name is ChuckieT.

Welcome, Babe!

Green and Gold

Yesterday was my first completely heartburn-free day since my reflux resurfaced.  Phew!  Thank you aloe vera, kombucha and eating lots of greens!  Today has also started out well.

I'm still working on the emotional/life part of the imbalance that caused the reflux, though.  I found a website today that I found pretty interesting:  torihartman.com.  Tori Hartman is a psychic and spiritual advisor, and she has created a deck of  cards to help people manifest the things they want in their lives.  Yes, yes, you say, you've heard it all before.  Next I'll be touting The Secret (which I have seen, by the way, and from which I did take away some valuable lessons, in amongst what looked to me like an awful lot of desire for Stuff.  Not least of which is the idea of focusing on what you want, rather than what is wrong, since the nature of energy is to follow whatever you pay attention to). 

Keep an open mind for a moment.

I clicked on an ad for Tori's site that offered a free reading.  I think things like that can be fun.  I've been known to read my horoscope for fun, too, although since I was born on a cusp I have two to choose from, so it can get a little confusing.  Anyway, so I clicked.  I was instructed to think of a question, and the question I thought of was "What is the next step I can take that will lead me to my true path?"  That is the question I've been struggling with lately, as I sit at a desk day after day to which I feel shackled by the Almighty Dollar.  You know the desk I'm talking about.  It's called The Desk of Security.  Also known as The Desk of the Steady Paycheck.  It's a desk that can look all innocent and even, sometimes, exciting.  Enticing.  Look at the shiny nameplate!  Ooh, free pens!  Then you sit down, and the clamps come out and you start thinking that you will never be able to leave now, because nowhere else will you be compensated in so abundant a manner.  If you leave, you will surely perish!  There is absolutely No Way you can make this kind of money doing anything remotely soul-satisfying, especially in This Economy, so just buy some drab-but-office-appropriate clothing and sit yourself down.  Would you like a cup of coffee?

Okay, rant  digression over. 

So I closed my eyes and mentally repeated my question, and then I clicked.  When I opened my eyes, the screen was green and showed pictures of plants with roots, and lots of grass.  I got a little shiver.  I like grass.  I like plants.  I like to fantasize about moving to the country.  Eating greens makes me feel good.  I was thinking about adding more wheatgrass to my diet just yesterday.  My hand may have trembled a little as I clicked on the box that would tell me what green meant in this context.  Here's what it said:  "Green is unconditional love.  The softness of grass is about personal commitment to what one's heart tells them.  It is about honoring your growth, and the growth of others."  Um, okay.  Yeah.  That fits.

Then I clicked on the Inspiration box:  "Grass says that the time is right for you to move on from anything holding you back from full self-expression... Be different.  Be unique...  [I]t is time to grow!"

So, all signs point to getting off my ass and getting on with doing the things that fulfill me and help me to grow.  Great!  Now I just have to figure out which of those things will support me in the manner to which I would like to become accustomed, so I can kick off those aforementioned shackles and leave The Desk behind.  But wait!  I'm a cautious type.  I am not about to go running off willy-nilly on Green's sayso.   I clicked on the 'free reading' button one more time, with the same question.  (Tori's instructions say that that's okay, although I will admit that I was being a mite skeptical.)  This time I came up with Gold.  Like, you know, money.  As in, fix your relationship to money and the rest will follow.  Oy.

Go ahead and try it yourself.  Let me know what you think.

Disclaimer:  No, I do not know Tori Hartman, nor am I any kind of spokesperson for her.  Today was the first time I'd heard of her. 

Language and Power

I write periodically about language and it's power, and as a writer I'm hyper-aware of word choice and what it can do to make meaning clear.  As I embark on my journaling adventure to help heal my acid reflux, I'm beginning to notice what the words I use say about how I'm feeling about where I am.  How powerful (or not) I feel.  How clear (or not) I am about what I want and where I want to go.  I'm listening more closely to my inner voice.  But what about the words I use in my daily life?  How am I expressing myself to others?

This article on Care2's site has given me a lot to think about.  It's about the difference between 'I'll try' and 'I will,' 'I want' and 'I have.'  It's about listening to myself, as well as listening to those around me.  I encourage you to read it.  It's not that long, and it's truly packed with food for thought.

This week I'm going to practice making stronger language choices.  I'll start with a baby step, of course.  I know me well enough by now not to bite off a whole mouthful before I've learned to chew properly.  I'll start by noticing what words I'm using now.

Here goes.  I can do this.  I will do this.  I have a clear path.

Hello Reflux, My Old Friend

It's ba-aaaaaaack!

My acid reflux has decided to make a return visit, with phantom pains in my chest, floating around and down to my belly.  If I didn't know better, I might have rushed to a cardiologist.  This has happened before, though, so I grabbed for an acid reducer instead.  In fact, it was so bad earlier this week that what I reached for was an over-the-counter acid blocker, because that was the easiest thing to get.  (Remind me to rant about that some other day.)  And it worked against the acute attack.  But now I'm ready to approach this situation in a more natural way.  I've learned in the past few years that my body is pretty darn smart.  And sometimes I even listen to it.  But I guess I've been a little out of touch with everything lately, including me.  So my belly resorted to shouting.

Well, I'm listening now!

The first thing I did to quiet things was buy a bottle of kombucha and sip it down.  In fact, I bought enough for a few days.  It seems to be the new designer drink amongst hip young urbanites at the moment, at least in Manhattan, which, fortunately, makes it easy to find.  But kombucha (pronounced comb-BOO-cha), has been around for a very long time.  There are conflicting reports about whether it came from Russia or Japan, although most sources say Russia.  But everyone seems to agree that it's good stuff.  Kombucha is a fermented drink made with tea, sugar, and a "mother" (much like sour dough starter).  The fermentation process, in which the starter eats the sugar, turns ordinary black tea into a powerhouse of a healthy drink.  People claim to have cured cancer with it.  It's packed with B vitamins, probiotics and digestive enzymes (the enzymes, by the way, occur naturally in all raw, fermented products, including sauerkraut, miso and tempeh - one reason they're so healthy.  Sorry, the health counselor in me just couldn't resist...).  For me, a few sips can stop my discomfort almost immediately by bringing ph balance back to my stomach.  It's definitely an acquired taste (think pickle juice), but boy does it do the job!  But beware - it's EXTREMELY fizzy.  My husband calls it violent juice...

The next thing I did was replenish my stock of aloe vera juice.  If I had had some with me to begin with, I probably would have skipped the OTC stuff altogether.  Aloe vera is a natural antibiotic, as well as highly alkaline (the opposite of acid), and is extremely soothing to the whole digestive tract.   Actually, I really can't say enough about the whole aloe plant.  My mother keeps one in her kitchen for first aid purposes.  If anyone gets a cut or a burn, she snips off a leaf and slathers on the fresh gel and poof!  The pain stops and the healing begins.  It's magical.

So that's the first part of the physical plan of attack.  But when my body is out of balance, so are other things in my life (and vice versa).  So I'm going to be journaling, too, to see if I can figure out what needs to be adjusted in other areas.  I have a few guesses, of course, but it always amazes me how much comes up when I put pen to paper and just write for a while. 

It all feels like a big job right now, but I'm a big girl.  I can do this.  It's time to wake up and take a few (baby) steps.  Wish me luck!

Wordless Wednesday: Summertime

What I'm Made Of

It was 4:30 a.m.  I was asleep.  Really, profoundly and deeply asleep.  Then it happened...

My pug dog was anxious.  He stood up on the end of the bed.  He whimpered a little.  I probably moved in my sleep.  Then he began that little tap dance that pugs do, when they're anxious or excited, that staccato prancing in place.  He whimpered some more.  I woke up.

Why is the bed shaking? I wondered.  Then, Oh!  Something's wrong with Inqy! 

Thinking like a loving but sleepy mother, I gathered him in my arms and lay back down, whispering a few soothing words, hoping desperately he didn't have to go outside.  It occurred to me to wonder, briefly and somewhat resentfully, why this hadn't awakened my husband.  Then I shut my eyes and hoped everything was now calm.  But of course it wasn't.

Inqy lay for a moment or two, then got up again and went to the end of the bed, whimpering and dancing a little more frantically.  He paced the edge of the bed, looking for his step so he could get down on the floor, but it was dark and he couldn't see it.  Grudgingly, I got up and lifted him down.  By now all my senses were alert.  I peered into the inch or so of space left by the mostly closed bedroom door.  I strained my ears.  No light.  No sounds I could hear over the hum of the air conditioner.  But dogs can hear much better than we can, can't they?  What if someone was out there?  If I just let him out of the bedroom, what would happen? Should I go charging out?  I didn't have anything to use as a weapon.  What if I closed the door?   I did the best possible thing you can do in a crisis situation:  I stood frozen in indecision.

Before I could make up my mind, someone walked down the hall.  In the barely perceptible light, I distinctly saw the outline of his legs.  There was someone in my apartment!  I was about to be killed!  Probably he had a gun!  What should I do?  What should I do?  Oh my god!

Here's what I did:  I yelled "Oh, sh*t!" before I could stop myself.  Then I ran to the bed to wake up my husband, because, you know, burglars are definitely his department.  Maybe he would know how to save us.  Or at the very least, he would know he was about to get shot.  I mean, you wouldn't want to sleep through that, would you?  Anyway, I reached over to shake him...and he wasn't there.  I was alone in the room with the two dogs.  One of whom was very upset, and one who had yet to fully wake up.*  I gathered my courage and what was left of my wits and I called out my husband's name.

"Yes?" came his answer, from the hallway.

I flung the door open.  Inqy ran to my husband.  I shouted over the pounding of my heart.

"Ohmygod!  Ohmygod!  You scared me to death!  I thought for sure you were in here with me!  I thought someone was in the apartment!  Holy sh*t!"

To which my husband replied by apologizing, then laughing, then apologizing for laughing.  Then he got into bed and went to sleep.  I was up for a while...

Yep.  I'd be the first one picked off in the horror flick.

* Okay, yes, the fact that my other dog was sound asleep, not perturbed in the least, should have been a clue...

More Avocados and Tomatoes

And cucumbers, too!

My friend Claudia is amazingly generous.  She has allowed my husband and I to use part of her garden for our tomatoes and cucumbers.  Well, really, she's turned the whole thing into a sort of co-op for all three of us.  We not only get the benefit of organic, home-grown veggies (how much more local can you get?), but we get to get our own hands in the dirt, let the dogs run around and have close encounters with her cats (endlessly entertaining!), and have many afternoons of outdoor fun, friendship and lots of laughter.

This week we also had lots (and lots and lots) of tomatoes, both grape and Black Prince, and some seriously delicious cucumbers.  [Post harvest pic here as soon as Claudia sends it to me, hint-hint.] 

ETA: voila*!

So last night, rather than re-make Sunday night's salad, as delectable as it was, I decided to do something a little different.  I made guacamole out of the remaining avocados, and then turned my attention tomato-ward.  My husband (always thinking, that man) had grabbed a fresh mozzarella at the grocery store.  So, we had tomatoes, we had mozz, we had fresh basil from the terrace.  And we had cucumbers.  What to do, what to do...

Jody's Made-Up Caprese-like Salad

Ingredients

2 medium cucumbers, skinned and diced
2 medium heirloom tomatoes, diced
1 handful grape tomatoes, sliced in half
several basil leaves, torn
As much cubed mozzarella as you want
1 small clove garlic, minced (or more, to taste)
Sea salt and fresh pepper to taste (as always)

Directions

Toss everything in a bowl, drizzle with Basil Oil (thanks again, Mr. Flay - that's just like it sounds, some extra virgin olive oil, some fresh basil: put it in a blender and voila*!) and serve.  The tomatoes and cucumbers let out enough juice to mix with the basil oil, salt, pepper and garlic to form an amazingly good dressing all on their own.  I was hoping for leftovers for lunch the next day but, um, no.  We ate it all.

* Incidentally, does anyone know how to get accents on letters in a web-editor?  Short of creating them in Word and cutting and pasting, I mean?  It annoys me no end not to have that l'accent grave on the final 'a.'

TV Dinner

It was one of those days.  The Sunday after a busy Saturday after a busy week.  Rain on the way.  I almost didn't make it off the couch.  But we had Bobby Flay on.   (Yes, I read Mr. Pollan's article.  He makes some interesting points, but I guess, once again, I'm not like most people.  I find cooking shows inspiring enough to actually get up and try what I see.)

I was knitting, not really paying close attention.  Then he made an avocado salad that sounded really, really good.  Unfortunately, it only caught my attention about half-way through, so I didn't get the whole recipe.  He used some kind of crumbled cheese - Mexican, I think.  And pine nuts.  I LOVE pine nuts.  (He also added red onion, my husband informs me.  I seem to have blocked it out, because I don't really like raw onion - red, white, or even vidalia.  Cooked, carmelized, bring it on!  But not raw.  It's too strong a taste, to me, plus they make my stomach hurt about half the time.)  There was fresh basil and tomatoes.  What's not to love?  It just so happens that we harvested a whole slew of tomatoes yesterday from Claudia's backyard.  Heirloom Black Princes.  Oh, so good!

Anyway, later this afternoon we found ourselves at the grocery store. 

Guess what we had for dinner? 

We wandered the aisles, with a vague idea in mind based on what we'd seen on television, and then adding to it as we found interesting ingredients.  It ended up being a great night in the kitchen, with my husband and I each making part of the dinner, which then became a really wonderful whole.  My favorite kind of night.

I had decided to do my take on the avocado salad, so I had to make up the recipe, based on what I remembered of what I saw.  But once I tasted it, I wanted to write it down as soon as possible, so I wouldn't forget what I did.  It was that good.  Thank you, Bobby!

Flay-Inspired Avocado Salad

Ingredients

For the salad:
2 ripe avocados, cut into chunks
2 medium heirloom tomatoes
1/4 cup pine nuts, toasted
6 or 7 basil leaves, hand-ripped
crumbled feta cheese (I couldn't find the stuff Bobby used - cojito, I think it was)
sea salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

For the dressing:
2-to-1 extra virgin olive oil to red wine vinegar (if I ever write a cookbook, I'm going to have to start measuring)
1/4 teaspoon or so ground coriander
1/4 teaspoon garlic, minced
1-1/2 teaspoons or so raw honey
sea salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

Directions

• Chop tomatoes and set aside in colander or fine-mesh strainer to drain.  This will help keep your salad from getting too watery (you may also want to consider removing the seeds and pulp, but I hated to waste any part of those beauties).
• Gather the rest of the salad ingredients together in a bowl.
• Add all dressing ingredients together and whisk until well combined.
• Add drained tomatoes to salad and toss with dressing.
• Refrigerate for at least 20 minutes before serving (okay, this only happened because my husband started making the shrimp when I finished the salad, but I think it really helped).
• Season with more salt and pepper right before serving.

This salad was de-li-cious!  The feta and avocado did start to mush up, creating more dressing, essentially, so the pine nuts really helped to keep a different texture in the salad.  Here's where onions would have helped, too.  For us no-raw-onion people, though, hmm...shallots maybe?  Anyone have any suggestions?

London: Elves in Kensington Gardens

I promised elves, and elves you shall have.  Behold, the Eflin Oak:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

These are only a few of the little folk that crawl all over this venerable tree.  (Which is actually a ten-foot high stump, and not a living tree anymore.  It wasn't harmed in the carving.)  When I was an undergrad, I spent a semester in London, living near this magical oak, in Paddington.  It was one of  my very favorite places.   It made me tremendously happy to be able to see it again.

Incidentally, when I asked a couple of young guys working at a coffee kiosk in Hyde Park where I could find the elves, they didn't know what I was talking about.  They were only about a quarter of a mile away, at most.  Weird.

ESB

A taxi passed while I was waiting to cross the street this morning.  It had a cab-top billboard on it that read "Take me to ESB."  It wasn't until I looked at the picture on the billboard that I realized that "ESB" meant Empire State Building.  It appears they are trying to make a 78-year-old building seem hip. 

I won't go into a rant about kids these days and how they're destroying communication with their texting-speak, or anything, but it makes me wonder, what are we losing?  Language is such a powerful thing.  Words contain images, thoughts, ideas.  Acronyms, hip as they may be, are just a series of letters, which take extra brain power to decode, leaving less time to think about the meaning of the words for which they stand.  (At least for middle-aged brains like mine.)  Like, what does it mean that New York is the Empire State?  Is empire-building bad or good?  And is a cheap clothing store like Strawberries made classier by being in a building with so much history (not to mention architectural interest)?  Will my flimsy tank top last longer? 

Are we really moving so fast as a society that we can no longer take the time to say Empire State Building, even while on vacation?  Even when that vacation's itinerary includes a trip to said building?  Can we take the time, then, to gaze from its heights in wonder?  Or do we just snap a bunch of photos and slap them up on FB (Facebook) under "Views from the ESB" and move on to EI (Ellis Island)?  Mark it all TBSTL (to be sorted through later)?  

What ever happened to experiencing your experience while you're experiencing it?  (And talking about it in full, thoughtful, even languid sentences?)

Phew.  All that from a taxi-topper. 

Message of the day:  slow down, people!  And, you know, think about stuff.

Cocoon

You may have noticed (or not), I haven't been around.  I even did that thing I hate, where I promised something in a next post, and then never posted it.  I hate over-promising and then under-delivering.  It makes me feel like a failure.  All self-sabotagey and stuff.

Anyway, here's what's up.  I've been unable to write.  Not physically.  I didn't break a finger or anything.  But mentally, emotionally, I haven't been able to sit down and put words together.  I've been reading like an insatiable banshee.  But putting my own thoughts together has been a no-go.

At the moment, however, things feel like they're changing.  Like I've been in some kind of stasis, frozen in amber or something, that's only now, really slowly, beginning to lift or melt or crack. 

In the meantime, there have been layoffs and re-shufflings and all kinds of OMG-we're-all-going-to-perish kinds of stuff going on.  Not to me, personally (except for the re-shufflings).  For which I am extremely grateful.  But part of me wishes the Universe would just kick me in the ass already, since I can't seem to do if for myself.  (And if I could, I could probably make a lot of money in the circus.)

But here I am, left to get my own self moving in a healthy and right direction.  Only my compass is still buried in the amber or molasses or whatever I've been stuck in.  So I'm not sure who I want to be when I grow up.  (That's the trick inherent in knowing exactly what you want to do with your life when you're a teenager, apparently - you end up going through adolescence all over again as an adult.  And sometimes over and over again.  And some of the things you decided were the Thing were great for getting you to the next thing, but some of them you know aren't really the Thing, and are just place-fillers while you get ready to making a living doing the Thing, and really aren't supposed to last very long or be how you identify yourself, and yet, six years later, here you still are.  Not quite able to let go.  All cozy-comfy in the security blanket of a regular income and Paid Time Off.  And then other people go out and get what you think it is you want, and you feel all bad and jealous and bad for feeling jealous.  And so you whip yourself into being all happy for them and inspired when you really just want to crawl in a corner and cry for while.  Or hit something.)

Anyway.

All this to say, the blog will be taking a new direction.  Not sure what that will be yet, but stay tuned, if you want.   It should be interesting.  (Notice the title of the post?  It's hopeful...)