Sunday, September 20, 2009

No Excuses. Maybe.

Tia, Tia, Tia. Why do you torture me?

I woke up from a well-deserved stolen Sunday nap and asked my Facebook friends what I should write about. I should have a list of topics to choose from and even several blogs written up in advance but that, my friends, is not how I do business. Tia was thinking about how good dessert sounds and how about writing about my favorite kind?

It sure as heck isn’t the Chocolate Coconut Atkins bar I’m gnawing on. I try to avoid talking about the whole weight thing because I wrote about it once and after that I can see how it would become boring and distinctly unfunny. Who really wants to hear about how I threw down my iPhone this morning when Michael couldn’t zip up my skirt? The skirt I bought (and fit) just days after Sam was born.

(Yes, I THREW my iPhone. My PRECIOUS as Kenny calls it. I shouldn’t even be allowed to own one)

This on the day I’d already set aside to give The Incredible Shrinking Woman bit another try. Here I go talking about it. I said I wouldn’t talk about it . . . but yes, today was the day. I needed total amnesty for Sausage Fest but now its No Excuses time. Wasn’t that a brand of jeans once upon a time? Who cares, I probably couldn’t button those either.

So, favorite dessert. Let’s see. I adore burnt cream (crème brûlée) but it usually comes in portions that make me sad. Tiny ramekins half-emptied after my first swipe. I also love peach pie and have nothing disparaging to say on the subject. Oh and a moist chocolate cake with chocolate buttercream frosting. Sooo fantastic. Above all though, I would say my favorite dessert is my dad’s Bread Rice Pudding. He concocted it a while back when the kids asked if he’d make bread pudding. And rice pudding. They couldn’t decide which. It’s my favorite comfort food and it’s what derailed my last Down-With-The-Pounds effort. We were visiting this summer and there it sat. I wasn’t going to have any. Really. Honestly! And then Dad asked if I’d have some. I doubt he meant for me to come back for thirds but that’s how I operate and it’s how I got to this iPhone-pitching state of affairs.

I’ve been thinking about food and if, at this stage in the game, it would be possible for me to really think of food as anything but entertainment. I really want to care about where my food comes from and to think of food as fuel. But dear interweb friends, there is a massive disconnect in my brain. Wanting to care and caring are two very different things. I’m like the person puffing away at a cigarette despite seeing all the charred lungs. A woman I know from M.O.P.s started a blog recently that goes into a lot of different things you should incorporate into your diet for optimum health. I want to want to eat these things but just can’t wrap my brain around drinking fermented milk , making my own non-sugar sweetener, or steeping elderberries for tea.

I saw this show the other day. I forget if it was Dateline, 20/20, Primetime, 48 hours, whatever; they’re all the same. Oh, except John Stossel is on Dateline and he’s my favorite. Even with that amateur porn star mustache. But anyway, this episode was about where our food comes from. Mostly this sort of thing just grosses me out but this was different. There was an interview with the owner of Chipotle (a chain of Mexican restaurants) where they observe “naturally raised protocol”. I was immediately impressed with the big words. Well, actually I started laughing but anyway, they buy pork from this guy who raises pigs that live in the woods. According to Farmer Joel, “This fully respects the pigness of the pig”. I wonder how much this effects the taste? Because who are we kidding? That’s what it comes down to. Then there’s the question of eating animals in general (which I rarely allow myself to consider): Am I more comfortable eating an animal that’s had a good life that was cut short or a confinement pig whose life was a disaster anyway? But if I eat the confinement pig I’m encouraging more pig confining. Never mind. There are some philosophical questions I’m just too lazy to pursue.

Enough of that. Suffice it to say I’ve almost made it through Day 1 and you should just count yourself lucky that Tiff’s Secret Diet Journal is a private blog. Oh the humanity.

Dad’s Bread Rice Pudding

In a greased shallow baking dish, you load up, then place the dish in another filled with hot water and bake. 350 degrees for 1 hour, stick with a knife for test for doneness, looking for blade to come back clean. Directions call for 350 degrees for 1 1/2 hrs.

In your baking dish layer bread-raisins-cooked rice.

In a bowl mix 3 eggs, 1/2 cup sugar, 1/4 teaspoons salt, 1 teaspoons vanilla extract, 1/2 teaspoons grated lemon rind, and 3 1/2 cups milk (3 cups is good, too).

Pour it over your bread or whatever in baking dish and dust with nutmeg. Bake.

Have a good week,

Dad
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4 comments:

  1. I am growing a mustache! I will shave it when you get to your goal weight. Dateline here I come!

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  2. So, what do I think? I think I'm gonna have to make this bread/rice pudding recipe. That's what I think. :) I, too, should eat healthier...and work out...but I need a "carrot" dangling in front of me to keep me motivated. Maybe I need a bakini like that lady in the commercial has...or maybe a trip to look forward to...something...anything. I'm gonna start working out again this week AND am gonna try to stay away from desserts again but not until after I make your dad's recipe. :)

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  3. Fermented milk? Ugh, that's disgusting!

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  4. I am in the same fight as you - so far, I feel like I am winning the battle. I won't be weighing or measuring again until Friday, but I already am looking at food diferently and I am definatly feeling better. I made it through the whole weekend at fair without giving into any temptations - and there were lots of them!!!

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So, what do you think?