It’s been a rough week. So I settled into Sunday morning with a long list of consumables to prepare for the week ahead. In my world, comfort sometimes comes from not only eating the fruits of my labour, but also in the stirring, chopping, and cleaning that results in a fridge well-stocked, and a tired couple well fed.
Sunday’s list included a silky vegetable and coconut Thai-style soup, a batch of nutty brown rice, a big pot of (freezable) curry sauce perfect for dousing the squeaky cauliflower I picked up on Saturday, a low-fat, if crumbly, banana bread and a summery quinoa salad with tomato, cucumber, raisins and large handfuls of Italian parsley. Mixed with other fresh vegetables, the soft pita breads, feta cheese, and the long Italian style rolls I also bought, we’ve got mid-day and after-work meals prepared.
Comfort also comes in sharing meals with comforting people. After the banana bread came out of the oven, we headed over to Paul’s mom and dads. Homemade wine (which only I and my parents-in-law seem to appreciate – the others having more sophisticated tastes), fresh baked ricotta and spinach cannelloni, Paul’s-Mom’s-Salad(TM), and a dessert of cupcakes and coffee...I know I felt better.
Monday, February 28, 2005
Thursday, February 17, 2005
Happy Birthday to The Boy
Happy Birthday Paul!
If today is your birthday (according to the Globe and Mail astrologist)..."there are two possible, and opposing, routes you can take this year. You can stick with what you know and trust, both in your personal life and at work, or you can risk everything on something new. Which route you take is up to you entirely but make sure it is one or the other. The worst possible decision is to make no decision at all."
Ooo -- that sounds rather foreboding.
If today is your birthday (according to the Globe and Mail astrologist)..."there are two possible, and opposing, routes you can take this year. You can stick with what you know and trust, both in your personal life and at work, or you can risk everything on something new. Which route you take is up to you entirely but make sure it is one or the other. The worst possible decision is to make no decision at all."
Ooo -- that sounds rather foreboding.
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
Chew, chew, chew, chew, chewboogie
I wonder if it's possible to be addicted to gum. Perhaps as part of some kind of psychotic oral fixation.
This morning, I bought two 12-piece packs of Trident's new "Very Berry" sugar-free gum. It's now six hours later and all but one piece has been chewed until it's devoid of flavour and then spit into my sticky garbage can. That's 23 pieces of gum. That's a piece every 15.7 minutes.
And this is a regular occurance too. Paul is not impressed.
My jaw hurts. Really, it aches.
But. I. Can't. Stop. Chewing.
Dammit, I just noticed that it's full of aspartame.
Problem solved. Apparently aspartame can be addictive. At least according to this guy. Now, he's likely just some Internet quack, but the following does make me pause:
ASPARTAME CAN UPSET BRAIN CHEMISTRY
Once you understand a bit about the chemistry of aspartame, you'll see why it can cause so many problems.
Aspartame is comprised of two amino acids, aspartic acid and phenylalanine. Aspartic acid acts as an "excitatory" neurotransmitter, or chemical messenger, in the brain, stimulating neurons to fire. Problems can arise when aspartic acid is out of balance with "inhibitory" amino acids that calm things down. Phenylalanine also easily enters the brain, where it is transformed into neurotransmitters that can further interfere with normal brain function.
This is a likely reason why aspartame lowers the threshold for seizures, mood disorders, and other nervous system problems. This altered brain chemistry may also be responsible for the addictive nature of aspartame. Some patients report that getting off diet soda takes more willpower than giving up cigarettes!
See!?! I have a PROBLEM!
This morning, I bought two 12-piece packs of Trident's new "Very Berry" sugar-free gum. It's now six hours later and all but one piece has been chewed until it's devoid of flavour and then spit into my sticky garbage can. That's 23 pieces of gum. That's a piece every 15.7 minutes.
And this is a regular occurance too. Paul is not impressed.
My jaw hurts. Really, it aches.
But. I. Can't. Stop. Chewing.
Dammit, I just noticed that it's full of aspartame.
Problem solved. Apparently aspartame can be addictive. At least according to this guy. Now, he's likely just some Internet quack, but the following does make me pause:
ASPARTAME CAN UPSET BRAIN CHEMISTRY
Once you understand a bit about the chemistry of aspartame, you'll see why it can cause so many problems.
Aspartame is comprised of two amino acids, aspartic acid and phenylalanine. Aspartic acid acts as an "excitatory" neurotransmitter, or chemical messenger, in the brain, stimulating neurons to fire. Problems can arise when aspartic acid is out of balance with "inhibitory" amino acids that calm things down. Phenylalanine also easily enters the brain, where it is transformed into neurotransmitters that can further interfere with normal brain function.
This is a likely reason why aspartame lowers the threshold for seizures, mood disorders, and other nervous system problems. This altered brain chemistry may also be responsible for the addictive nature of aspartame. Some patients report that getting off diet soda takes more willpower than giving up cigarettes!
See!?! I have a PROBLEM!
Sunday, February 13, 2005
We all know where the rainbow goes...
Why am I ashamed of dipping into the box of Pot of Gold chocolates?
Paul and I had my uncle, my cousin, his fiancée and her mother over for dinner last night. Being the ever-gracious host, I buried my vegetarian leanings and roasted a whole chicken for them. I paired it with the natural accompaniment of roasted mini potatoes, and served corn mixed with cherry tomatoes and edamame beans and cucumber salad on the side (my uncle has a fear of veggies, but consented to the corn).
Anyway -- they brought wine and a box of Pot of Gold to share. There's something so heart-warmingly cheesy about this quintessentially Canadian confection. I often say (loudly and irritatingly I'm sure) that I can't stand chocolate mixed with any other flavour (although I tolerate mint). I'm not a fan of the orange/chocolate combination, or the popular nut/chocolate or caramel/chocolate combinations. I prefer my chocolate unadulterated with a high ratio of cocoa solids, not to sweet, but not too dark either.
But I draw the line on my chocolate snobbishness with the chocolate-covered maraschino cherries in the Pot of Gold box. Tooth-achingly sweet, red-dye injected, and irresistible! Shhhhhh. There are only two to a box, so I made sure I was the first to dive in last night. And I breached chocolate box etiquette by rooting around in the second layer to find my treat's twin. Hee.
Oh the shame.
Paul and I had my uncle, my cousin, his fiancée and her mother over for dinner last night. Being the ever-gracious host, I buried my vegetarian leanings and roasted a whole chicken for them. I paired it with the natural accompaniment of roasted mini potatoes, and served corn mixed with cherry tomatoes and edamame beans and cucumber salad on the side (my uncle has a fear of veggies, but consented to the corn).
Anyway -- they brought wine and a box of Pot of Gold to share. There's something so heart-warmingly cheesy about this quintessentially Canadian confection. I often say (loudly and irritatingly I'm sure) that I can't stand chocolate mixed with any other flavour (although I tolerate mint). I'm not a fan of the orange/chocolate combination, or the popular nut/chocolate or caramel/chocolate combinations. I prefer my chocolate unadulterated with a high ratio of cocoa solids, not to sweet, but not too dark either.
But I draw the line on my chocolate snobbishness with the chocolate-covered maraschino cherries in the Pot of Gold box. Tooth-achingly sweet, red-dye injected, and irresistible! Shhhhhh. There are only two to a box, so I made sure I was the first to dive in last night. And I breached chocolate box etiquette by rooting around in the second layer to find my treat's twin. Hee.
Oh the shame.
Friday, February 11, 2005
Quantum Leap
I don't know how long this story from the Montreal Gazette will be available, but if you have the chance to read it, here's the link:
I saw this at work because of the link to counterfeiting, but I kept reading it because it's just so damn cool. Even if you have no real understanding of quantum physics (I sure don't), this story is good because it restores your faith in some people's utter brilliance.
I was fretting recently about some inane story about how there are these smart people out there who are set on destroying society as we know it for their own personal gain or beliefs or whatever, and my good friend Dave, with his usual calming insight, noted that for every smart revolutionary guy out there, there's an equally brilliant good guy working against them. Now that's a comforting thought, and it's very likely true.
This story about two scientists, one Canadian and the other American, who together came up with a way to prevent code breakers from cracking into computers with extremtly sensitive information by using quantum theory, illustrates this beautifully.
Sidenote: Wouldn't you love to be smart enough to sit in a cafe after a swim and talk about quantum mechanics with an equally smart dude and actually be enjoying yourself??
Anyway, very cool story. Very cool dudes.
I saw this at work because of the link to counterfeiting, but I kept reading it because it's just so damn cool. Even if you have no real understanding of quantum physics (I sure don't), this story is good because it restores your faith in some people's utter brilliance.
I was fretting recently about some inane story about how there are these smart people out there who are set on destroying society as we know it for their own personal gain or beliefs or whatever, and my good friend Dave, with his usual calming insight, noted that for every smart revolutionary guy out there, there's an equally brilliant good guy working against them. Now that's a comforting thought, and it's very likely true.
This story about two scientists, one Canadian and the other American, who together came up with a way to prevent code breakers from cracking into computers with extremtly sensitive information by using quantum theory, illustrates this beautifully.
Sidenote: Wouldn't you love to be smart enough to sit in a cafe after a swim and talk about quantum mechanics with an equally smart dude and actually be enjoying yourself??
Anyway, very cool story. Very cool dudes.
Tuesday, February 01, 2005
Beans, beans, good for your heart...
A couple of nights ago I had just started to drift off when I realized that I had no idea, really, where beans – things like chickpeas, kidney beans, black-eyed peas – came from. Have you ever seen a lentil plant? It’s strange what you think about before going to sleep. I mentioned it to The Boy and he told me just to Google it in the morning.
Why does it matter? Because we, generally, as a society, are becoming further and further removed from the foods we eat, i.e. where it comes from, how it’s produced, how it gets to us.
It’s pretty startling when you realize that you have no clue how those cans and cans of legumes (at least at my house) came to be on the shelf. Scary actually.
So I set out to learn more. As I suspected, beans DO come from plants. I’ve just never seen any. The beans we eat are the dried seeds of those plants. I learned from this site that legumes (including peanuts) are able to take large amounts of nitrogen from the air and convert it to protein in the seeds. They also return large amounts of nitrogen to the ground and because of this the green plants are sometimes ploughed under; as an organic fertilizer.
This site from an organic farm project in Muenster, Saskatchewan has some photos of lentil plants.
So now you know. And I can sleep.
Why does it matter? Because we, generally, as a society, are becoming further and further removed from the foods we eat, i.e. where it comes from, how it’s produced, how it gets to us.
It’s pretty startling when you realize that you have no clue how those cans and cans of legumes (at least at my house) came to be on the shelf. Scary actually.
So I set out to learn more. As I suspected, beans DO come from plants. I’ve just never seen any. The beans we eat are the dried seeds of those plants. I learned from this site that legumes (including peanuts) are able to take large amounts of nitrogen from the air and convert it to protein in the seeds. They also return large amounts of nitrogen to the ground and because of this the green plants are sometimes ploughed under; as an organic fertilizer.
This site from an organic farm project in Muenster, Saskatchewan has some photos of lentil plants.
So now you know. And I can sleep.
My morning constitutional
It’s too cold to walk outside when I get off the train in the morning. I’m cold-adverse.
I walk underground to get to my building and I can map out where I am on this 10-minute walk through my sense of smell. Union station is a mish-mash of the hot, oily odour of McDonalds french fries and the overpowering aroma of cinnamon and sugar from the nearby Cinnibon. Somehow it works.
There are wafts of burnt coffee as I pass the Second Cup and then a burst of cold air as I emerge outside for the 10 second jump into the BCE underground. Once inside I pass a bagel place that seems to be everyone’s favourite breakfast spot. The smell of eggs, ketchup and toast seems so homemade. Then I pass the Marche where they always seem to be frying cheese-covered chicken wings in a vat of oil. At least that’s what it smells like.
No wonder I’m hungry once I get to my desk.
I walk underground to get to my building and I can map out where I am on this 10-minute walk through my sense of smell. Union station is a mish-mash of the hot, oily odour of McDonalds french fries and the overpowering aroma of cinnamon and sugar from the nearby Cinnibon. Somehow it works.
There are wafts of burnt coffee as I pass the Second Cup and then a burst of cold air as I emerge outside for the 10 second jump into the BCE underground. Once inside I pass a bagel place that seems to be everyone’s favourite breakfast spot. The smell of eggs, ketchup and toast seems so homemade. Then I pass the Marche where they always seem to be frying cheese-covered chicken wings in a vat of oil. At least that’s what it smells like.
No wonder I’m hungry once I get to my desk.
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