rhiannonstone: (the real me)
Last night my coworkers took me to a place that had jalapeno popper cheeseburgers (with half a brick of deep-fried cream cheese on top) and key lime cheesecake milkshakes (with an actual chunk of cheesecake inside). Last weekend, we got hot dogs topped with grilled onions and cream cheese, and fried mac-and-cheese sticks on the side. Denver is very good at stoner food. (But today I think I will have a salad.)
rhiannonstone: (body)
Various virii have been knocking over my friends and loved ones left and right, so it was inevitable I'd eventually get hit, too. Monday night I was feeling a bit out of it, and I woke up Tuesday with full-blown ick. I thought it was just a head cold at first, but then the fever and achiness and chills soon joined forces with the sneezing, hacking, and snorfling to knock me flat. I've pretty much just been camped out on the couch for the past 3 days, half-watching Daria and Avengers prequels between naps and forcing myself to eat soup and drink juice. I don't have much of an appetite when I can't breathe well.

I started getting a little energy back today, so I got some groceries delivered (hooray for TaskRabbit!) and made a pot of chicken and stars with enough garlic to keep Sunnydale vamp-free for years. It was awesome. I ate three bowls, and then made some bittersweet chocolate ganache which I had over a huge bowl of ice cream. I guess I'm starting to get better.

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Making the ganache I thought, Man, if I'd known how easy this was as a kid I'd have gotten fat a lot earlier than I did. But thinking about it more, I'm not so sure. The poor eating habits that contributed to my weight gain in early adulthood can all be traced back to thoughtlessness--eating what was put in front of me because that's just what you do, eating out of boredom or sadness or social obligation, eating junky convenience foods because they were what was at hand--and I think being actively involved in the preparation of what I'm eating makes me more mindful about it, and therefore less likely to reflexively make poor choices. Not that I don't still make poor choices these days, but they're few and far between, and almost always involve grabbing something packaged or pre-made to quickly satisfy a craving. And when I feel the desire to eat because I'm sad or bored, if I cook rather than just grabbing a convenience food the cooking process itself is generally enough to make me less sad or bored because I enjoy the creativity and craft of it so much. I still enjoy the hell out of food for sure, but it's a deliberate and mindful enjoyment. Those three bowls of soup tonight were on purpose, whereas the increasingly rare occasion of suddenly finding myself at the bottom of a bag of chips or on my fourth soda of the day never is.

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Things that have been keeping me from going insane with boredom:
rhiannonstone: (Default)
When I lived alone I had a really hard time cooking for myself. Part of it was the atrocious state of the kitchen in the dilapidated Victorian I shared with a dozen other people, but mostly I just couldn't be bothered to go through the effort of shopping, prepping, cooking, and cleaning for just me. I still have this problem when Paul's out of town, though these days it's Indian takeout, baked potatoes, and fancy cheeses and olives rather than the pizza delivery, pudding cups, and frozen dinners I used to subsist on.

Paul's been out of town for a few days now, and yesterday I decided I was done with takeout and made a pot of butternut squash soup and a big salad for dinner, and a pumpkin stuffed with all the things for lunch for the next couple days. Much better than even the tastiest takeout, and a nice reminder that I am absolutely worth cooking great food for, even when it's just me. Plus it's enough food that I won't have to cook again until he's back, so it's the best of both worlds. ;)

Speaking of pumpkins, I've come to the very sad realization that I won't be able to carve one this year. I've been having some trouble with my right wrist for the past couple weeks, and while it's been getting steadily better, cutting the top off the tiny little sugar pie pumpkin I stuffed was almost too much for me. There's no way I could slice, scoop, and carve a larger pumpkin without setting back my healing time significantly. This is my sadface! If you're carving pumpkins for Halloween this year, please share photos so I can enjoy pretty pumpkins vicariously.

Also speaking of pumpkins, I was complaining to [personal profile] regyt last weekend that I can never seem to get roasted pumpkin seeds right, and don't know what I'm doing wrong. This most recent batch--from a friend's tried-and-true recipe--was pretty disappointing, and I think I've finally figured out the problem: I'm not doing anything wrong, I just don't like roasted pumpkin seeds very much.
rhiannonstone: (Default)
By happy conincidence, my evening plans last night took me to the Castro. The atmosphere got approximately 90% more celebratory as soon as I stepped off the Muni at Castro station, and it took me just a minute to realize why. There was a rally going on nearby that I never saw (and apparently one over at City Hall, too), but there were folks with signs and big happy grins, and lots of joyous shouting, and every 20 minutes or so someone in the bar I was at (which is apparently known as the gay Cheers?) called for a toast to marriage equality. It was a pretty great place to be at that moment in time.

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Some links for your hump day afternoon slacking pleasure:
rhiannonstone: (Default)
Happy Thanksgiving!

In past years I've posted detailed lists of all the things, big and small, that I have to be thankful for. I've got a lot to be thankful for this year, too--a steady job and good health and lots of little luxuries--but now more than ever I am most grateful for the abundance of love and friendship in my life. Without that, nothing else I have would matter.

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Still worried about getting the turkey just right? Tante Mary has the secret to save your Thanksgiving: just put the fucking turkey in the oven.


And more Thanksgiving food advice:
rhiannonstone: (foodporn2)
The last few lines of this poem popped into my head earlier this week after a delicious dinner, but then I got too distracted to share it. So here it is now:

Recipe for a Salad
by Sydney Smith

To make this condiment, your poet begs
The pounded yellow of two hard-boil'd eggs;
Two boiled potatoes, passed through kitchen sieve,
Smoothness and softness to the salad give.
Let onion atoms lurk within the bowl,
And, half-suspected, animate the whole.
Of mordant mustard add a single spoon,
Distrust the condiment that bites so soon;
But deem it not, thou man of herbs, a fault
To add a double quantity of salt;
Four times the spoon with oil of Lucca crown,
And twice with vinegar procur'd from town;
And lastly, o'er the flavour'd compound toss
A magic soup├žon of anchovy sauce.
Oh, green and glorious! Oh, herbaceous treat!
'Twould tempt the dying anchorite to eat:
Back to the world he'd turn his fleeting soul,
And plunge his fingers in the salad-bowl!
Serenely full, the epicure would say,
"Fate cannot harm me, I have dined today."

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