by mayberry on December 16, 2009
(aka: Captain Obvious cuts back on a Starbucks habit)
This year I started making my own chai lattes. Given the cash flow and the metabolism, I would get a grande nonfat chai from Starbucks every single day. But that is 1400 calories, 294 grams of sugar, and about $20 … every week. So, no. Here’s what I do instead:
Buy a box of chai tea bags (about $3 for 20, so 15 cents each).
Buy a carton of chai tea concentrate–the exact same stuff they use in Starbucks and other coffee shops (about $4, this lasts me at least 4 weeks, so let’s say 13 cents per serving).
Brew a cup of tea with the tea bag. Resist urge to make horrible joke about teabagging.
Add a splash of concentrate. I don’t know, maybe 1-2 tablespoons. There are 133 grams of sugar in the entire 32-oz. container, so if I get 30 servings/container that’s about 4.5 grams per serving (and about 21 calories, based on 630 calories in the whole container).
Add a splash of skim milk.
Enjoy! It doesn’t have the yummy foam of a storebought latte (although I could invest in a little countertop steamer/frother for about $25 … maybe I will!), and it’s not nearly as sweet. But I see that as a benefit. Total cost is under 50 cents and calories are probably between 40 and 50. The milk and the concentrate have similar calorie counts and I use about the same amount of each.
And that is the best tea of ’09!
by mayberry on December 1, 2009
When I lived in France, I often lunched with a family that included twin four-year-old girls. Their mother spent quite a lot of time during each meal issuing the reminder “Les deux cuisses sur le tambour!” (Both cheeks on your stool!)
Similarly, meals with Opie involve a lot of reinforcing, reminding, and pleas to use utensils and keep his butt in his chair. I figure this is par for the course for age four, and he is slowly learning decent-enough manners. We can take him to a restaurant and he can be trusted to sit fairly quietly and not make a huge mess or spectacle.
Still, he doesn’t have a great track record for Big Family Dinners of the Turkeyish Kind (or other special occasions). I think that he can sense his father’s nervousness (and, in my opinion, unreasonable expectations) about his behavior, and he also sometimes doesn’t like to be in the spotlight–this is why he refused to trick-or-treat, because he didn’t like people looking at him.
We were quite pleasantly shocked when on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, he sat at the table with nine other guests and politely, beautifully, neatly ate soup and salad. It was a thing of beauty–and this was after being in the car for nearly eight hours that day.
So is it any wonder that on Thanksgiving itself, he arrived at the table naked from the waist down, growling “i hate you i hate you i hate you” at anyone that glanced in his direction?
Eventually, I ate with him in the kitchen and then later he did reappear at the table and was perfectly charming. And the next day, we went to a football game at Grandma’s school with a bunch of VIPs and he voluntarily shook hands with strangers and said “Hello, Mr. Howard” politely and stayed until halftime without a single complaint.
Oh four. You are a mystery. A growly, adorable, ear-pinching mystery, and I am thankful for you every day.
by mayberry on September 27, 2009
We had tacos for dinner the other night and I flashed back to the many (many, many) times I ate them as a kid. Tacos, made with the Ortega mix, were one of those family meals I could prepare myself. My husband, by the way, was astonished to learn that I used to cook dinner for my entire family. I did, but the only dishes I can recall making are the ones that involve hamburger. Aside from the tacos, there were two specialties from the Minute Rice Cookbook which, even back in the day, seemed totally outdated and, well, gross. We still ate them all the time. (Also, I should note here that my mother is actually a really good cook.)
Number one: porcupine balls. I’m serious. These were not, you know, actual testicles. They were large meatballs studded (ha!) with grains of Minute Rice.
Number two: Cherokee casserole. Again, no actual Native Americans among the ingredients. Just hamburger, rice, and some kind of spices/flavorings, chief (HA!) among which was the whole bay leaf. It was, of course, a special treat to be the one who found the bay leaf in your portion. Here’s a recipe which reminds me that oh, god, I forgot about the cream of mushroom soup. Also that particular recipe has black olives, which: No.
by mayberry on August 17, 2009
I saw Julie & Julia last night. I wish I could have seen it with someone who blogs, but my local friend C. is something of a foodie, so that helped. And what can I say about a movie that combined blogging, droolicious food, Paris, Julia Child, and Meryl Streep? I loved it.
Afterward, my friend and I attempted to get a glass of wine and something to eat that involved either cheese or chocolate. Guess what: In Mayberry, on a Sunday night? NO CAN DO. Disappointing. Having a drink at home by myself didn’t really seem worth the calories.
Like everyone else, I wish I could think of some amazing blog-to-book-to-movie concept. Not even for the money. I just think it would be a cool challenge. But so far, I haven’t come up with anything that’s quite right. I’ve considered, then discarded the following:
- My One Houseplant: How Long Can I Keep It Alive?
- The 365-Day Shred
- Potty Training Tip of the Day
- Finding My Inner Martha Stewart
- One Mom’s Quest to Become a Champion Sturgeon Spearer
- Super-Size Mom: What Happens If I Eat a Dozen Doughnuts a Day?
- That’s Doctor Spiderwoman to You: Pursuing My PhD in Entomology
- Tattoo-a-Day Diary
- The Cathy/Katharine Project (I remake all of Hepburn’s movies, starring myself)
Any suggestions? I’m open. We could make it a group project.
by mayberry on July 20, 2009
The occasion: My birthday, and that of a friend.
The event: A dinner party in our honor, with four other friends as guests, and our two husbands as chefs/hosts.
The menu:
- Cold hors d’oeuvres — goat cheese balls with roasted walnuts, crostini with olive tapenade or artichokes and parmesan, fresh gazpacho
- Hot hors d’oeuvres — scallops with paprika, grilled shrimp, tortilla espanola, chorizo
- Roast turkey breast with truffle oil
- Grilled vegetables prepared in a citrus bath
- Green beans with orange zest and sesame
- Saffron rice
- Dessert — raspberry sorbet, mint ice cream, and ginger ice cream with berries and cookies
- Beverages — red sangria, white sangria, berry bellinis, fruit-infused water (strawberry/rhubarb and lemon/blueberry)
My friend K. and I hatched this plan a few weeks ago and boy did it ever succeed. We were talking about how all she wanted for her birthday was a really nice meal that she didn’t have to prepare herself. We moved into talking about how I would love to entertain more, but my husband gets super-anxious about having things just so when people come over. Somehow these two came together into an idea to have the two guys work together on a dinner party for us. I pretended I knew nothing about this while E. (K.’s husband) emailed my husband to propose such an event. And then it all came together in my backyard last night. I sat on a chair for about five straight hours eating and drinking and chatting and can you think of a better birthday present?!
Cherry on top: The kids stayed at E.’s house with K.’s parents and when I picked them up, K.’s mom said “These two children have some of the best manners I have ever seen!” I’m sure she was just being nice but I will take that compliment ANY TIME.
by mayberry on June 16, 2009
I.
Today I made a dessert that my grandmother used to make for me all the time. I would beg her for it and she would act like it was the such a big deal and a special treat. In fact, it’s like that commercial where the mom fakes slaving over a hot stove for hours to make Rice Krispie treats. Except even easier. Here are the instructions: 1. Open container of Cool Whip. 2. Open two containers of fruit-flavored yogurt. 3. Mix together. 4. Dump into graham cracker crust (pre-fab, of course). 5. Freeze.
My grandma was the best. Besides handing down that recipe to the next generation, she taught me how to play at least four different kinds of solitaire.
II.
Remember when I wrote about my dad going to a pre-funeral for his friend? An awake wake? Turns out the guy does not have a terminal disease after all. Misdiagnosis! He still had the party, and he played a trombone trio (an original piece composed for the event) with his son and granddaughter.
III.
Sale on Wooster St. Meat t-shirts! I got Jeff the prosciutto one for Christmas, because instead of a recipe for pie made out of non-food items, his ancestors actually taught him how to cure meat. His great-uncle was a butcher, and he always had meat, in various stages of curedness, hanging from nails in his basement. He explained the whole process to Jeff (surprise: there is a lot of salt involved). In New Jersey, we lived in a small condo building with a garage on the ground floor; each unit had a small storage room adjacent to its parking space. It was windowless and fairly cool so Jeff tried to make some prosciutto (the family actually called it lonza) in there.
That didn’t work out so well. It was a sad day when, a few months after Uncle Gene’s death, the last of the homemade meats ran out. Gene is pictured above with a baby Jo. Can you tell how immense his hands were? Long after he retired (he and his wife owned a small butcher shop/grocery), he still butchered deer for hunters and made his own sausage in his fully equipped basement kitchen, featuring the largest, thickest, heaviest-looking butcher’s block I have ever seen.
by mayberry on May 7, 2009
I loved this week’s creative challenges at Hot by BlogHer. I chose to do the diet challenge:
For this challenge, choose one day this week and photograph every bite you eat, then blog those photos. (Before you eat it, of course.) You’ll not only be hyperaware of food choices due to the accountability of blogging it, but you may be surprised when you see your entire day of food in front of you.
1 Nonfat chai latte; 2 apple slices left from kid’s breakfast; 3 oatmeal with blueberries, almonds, and a splash of chai concentrate; 4 stir fry with brown rice, tofu, broccoli, carrots, shiitake mushrooms, and bok choy, plus tea; 5 Annie’s peace pasta with parmesan, again with the kid leftovers; 6 sugar snap peas; 7 “club sandwich” wrap with steamed vegetables; 8 roasted cashews with cinnamon and sugar; 9 seltzer
I am amused by the roundness of all my containers. And surprised by the small amount of food (I only ate half of that ridiculously oversized wrap). This is a pretty normal day of eating for me, except we went out to dinner. But not at a decent restaurant, so that wrap was the best thing I could find on the menu. We saw a show and were unable to resist the intoxicating scent of the ($7!) cone of roasted crack cashews.
And as your reward for being interested enough in my daily food intake to read this whole post, here is a clip from the show we saw. Still just as funny as when we first saw it 6(?) years ago.
by mayberry on May 4, 2009
I have frequently noted here that I am no gourmet cook. I mean, the first time I roasted a chicken all by myself I bragged about it here like I had just earned three Michelin stars. But I have to feed myself and my children every day (my husband, the chef, is never home early enough to make dinner), and I try to make sure that what we eat is reasonably healthy and tasty.
So I am all about convenience foods. I buy bagged salads, Thai Kitchen stir-fry kits, jarred pasta sauce (these are good–no sugar or other junk), premade pizza crusts, and so on. Scrambled eggs, plain cheese quesadillas, and frozen ravioli are in regular rotation at our dinner table.
But there are some things I just don’t get. Break-and-bake cookies, for one. I can’t believe we need another level of simple below slice-and-bake. And also, Pizza Hut pasta delivery. Seriously? All you have to do to make pasta is boil water. If you have time to wait for the delivery, you have time to boil water and dump some cheese and sauce on top.
Of course, that is how my husband feels about bagged salads. He will pry the Fresh Express packages from my cold, scurvious hands because I’m not giving them up.
*
Also: Foods That Taste Nothing Like What They Are Supposed to Be, But Are Still Delicious*
- Pringles
- Chips Ahoy
- McDonald’s Hamburgers
*Although I can’t remember the last time I ate any of these.
by mayberry on March 25, 2009
by mayberry on February 13, 2009
People want to know how I am. How I really am. I appreciate the thought and I wish I could answer them.
I am happy not to be spending every waking moment with a painful, hormone-induced headache.
I am sad when I see my son’s face and wonder what his brother would have looked like.
I am relieved that the terribly stressful period when we didn’t know if our baby would live or die is over.
I am wondering how I will ever get through the month of June.
I am deeply touched by the supportive comments, emails, cards, flowers, plants, gifts, and food we’ve received.
I am thankful that I no longer have vicious nausea and heartburn 24/7.
I am discouraged that my body is flabby and lumpy with nothing to show for it.
Mostly, I just feel weird. I’ve never done this before and I don’t know how to do it. For three years I had resigned myself to the fact that I wouldn’t be having any more babies. I got pretty good at living that way.
Then I was pregnant, and that felt like an altered state, an alternative reality. So not being pregnant feels like a return to normalcy. But denying my son’s short life is most certainly not normal.
You see the dilemma.
I’ll steal borrow from Casey and tell you that you don’t have to tell me you are sorry. She said you could tell her about your favorite sandwich instead. If you want to tell me something, what’s your favorite flavor of ice cream? I was sorely tempted by a tub of Americone Dream the other day.
