The dieting's getting old and I'm sick of being hungry all the freakin time. I must stay strong though! Once we acquire some new running shoes I might be able to get past this plateau I've been stuck on. Yes, it's great that I fit into my clothes much better. And yes, it's great to see progress, but when it stops suddenly and you're still starving your butt off every day...
Well, it just really makes me want a cheeseburger from The Counter. Oh, and those parmesan truffle fries.
What??? Not like I'm gonna do it. Besides, they're closed.
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Monday, March 4, 2013
Saturday, February 2, 2013
dietary willpower
Mike and I are dieting...hard core.
It was time lol.
So no carbs, starches, sugars (okay, so we bend a little bit on sugars occasionally) and no soda. Butter is obviously limited or eliminated altogether in favor of olive oil. And once in a blue moon, I'll break down and have a teensy portion of potatoes with my two eggs and turkey bacon once a week. Leave me alone, I'm Irish and besides, I'm only human. For the most part it's strict city though.
I am accustomed to this severe of a diet, but he is not. He misses bread, but on his behalf, he never had to do this in the past. Kinda hard to be a fatty when you're in the Army. He could eat complete crap because of how much he exercised. You know, the total opposite of my lifelong lifestyle.
It was time lol.
So no carbs, starches, sugars (okay, so we bend a little bit on sugars occasionally) and no soda. Butter is obviously limited or eliminated altogether in favor of olive oil. And once in a blue moon, I'll break down and have a teensy portion of potatoes with my two eggs and turkey bacon once a week. Leave me alone, I'm Irish and besides, I'm only human. For the most part it's strict city though.
I am accustomed to this severe of a diet, but he is not. He misses bread, but on his behalf, he never had to do this in the past. Kinda hard to be a fatty when you're in the Army. He could eat complete crap because of how much he exercised. You know, the total opposite of my lifelong lifestyle.
Sunday, May 27, 2012
kickass new job
For some reason, I have been granted with Saturdays off for the last few months. I am not entirely sure whether this is a gift bestowed upon me from the restaurant gods that be (and that I also secretly hate) or if it's a test devised to determine whether or not I can amuse myself like a normal person for an entire day.
So tonight I got drunk, supposedly in celebration of my kickass new job. (Really, the best excuse for drunkenness since Mike's bday earlier this month.) And bought Indian food for dinner, which was pretty much the most delicious thing I've eaten for quite some time.
Huzzah!
So tonight I got drunk, supposedly in celebration of my kickass new job. (Really, the best excuse for drunkenness since Mike's bday earlier this month.) And bought Indian food for dinner, which was pretty much the most delicious thing I've eaten for quite some time.
Huzzah!
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
glassworts and such
Top Chef: All Stars has officially got me entirely too personally invested in a reality TV show. Dude, Dale got eliminated last week and it killed me! I mean, more than it should. Obviously I'm attached to some of the contestants already since they're all from previous seasons. I can't help be biased based on former performances, but some of my opinions have altered throughout the season. Still love Dale though! Even more so since he's got his anger at least somewhat under control, although he wouldn't be Dale unless he lost it once in a while.
So stunned by this weeks decision, even more than last week. No one got eliminated!!! We're all fucking going to the Bahamas! Colicchio does have a heart after all. How could they after absolutely raving about all five dishes? I mean, I was really racking my brains trying to figure it out, but there was not even a hint of negativity about anything that was served. You can't eliminate merely because your sentimental family recipe was only awesome instead of spectacular. So dick how they faked poor Richard out though. His face was ashen. It's all so life and death for him. I thought he was going to poop himself on national TV when Padma started telling him to pack his knives.
I think he hated her for a split second before it sunk in that he wasn't going home.
So stunned by this weeks decision, even more than last week. No one got eliminated!!! We're all fucking going to the Bahamas! Colicchio does have a heart after all. How could they after absolutely raving about all five dishes? I mean, I was really racking my brains trying to figure it out, but there was not even a hint of negativity about anything that was served. You can't eliminate merely because your sentimental family recipe was only awesome instead of spectacular. So dick how they faked poor Richard out though. His face was ashen. It's all so life and death for him. I thought he was going to poop himself on national TV when Padma started telling him to pack his knives.
I think he hated her for a split second before it sunk in that he wasn't going home.
Monday, February 28, 2011
yes you cayenne!
Damn you Food Network! Now I feel like this Queen City Cayenne ice cream is a must-try. Only I'm not going to pay almost $50 (plus shipping) to do so. After reading up, I realize it's gourmet ice cream, but come on. Not only that, but I'm not interested in ordering 4 or 9 pints.
Soooooooooooooo I guess I'll have to wait until I move back to Michigan. Then I can make a trek across the border.
Yes, ice cream is worth braving the shithole that is Ohio.
Soooooooooooooo I guess I'll have to wait until I move back to Michigan. Then I can make a trek across the border.
Yes, ice cream is worth braving the shithole that is Ohio.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
i am ze master of ze french cuisine
Cassoulet is an intimidating endeavor.
This recipe was advertised to me as a soup by my mother. A particular soup, in fact, that we all fondly remember my Dad making many moons ago. And while there are definite similarities, it is not a soup. Silly Mom.
Okay, so it's rather soup looking while in the process, but the picture is deceiving.
Here is the recipe:
Field Made Cassoulet
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1/4 cup flour
4 bone-in chicken thighs
2 andouille sausages (about 1 pound), cut into 1-inch pieces
1 carrot, sliced
1 onion, chopped
1 celery rib, chopped
3 garlic cloves, chopped fine
1/4 cup red wine
1 and 1/2 tsp. dried thyme
pepper
2 12 oz. cans cannellini beans
Heat olive oil in stew pot. Dredge the chicken in the flour and place in the pot and brown on all sides. Remove and set aside. Add sausages, carrot, onion, celery and garlic to the pot and saute until sausage is lightly browned and onion is translucent, about 10 to 12 minutes. Add wine, thyme, pepper, cannellini beans, and stir thoroughly. Lay the chicken atop the mixture and press down until almost covered. Cover the pot and set on low. Let simmer, checking occasionally for about an hour.
Okay, a few notes. Upon my Dad's recommendation, I added Cajun seasoning to my flour before dredging, just to add a little pizazz. As for the sausage, if you can't find andouille, find one with a similar flavor. I used chorizo. Now, cooking with wine is a new adventure for me. I asked my Dad what he used and he said cooking wine. However, neither of my parents are winos like me. If I wouldn't drink it, I'm not going to cook with it. So I used Menage a Trois. Oh, and when I added my chicken, I also added the crispy pieces of skin and other chicken drippings, adding more flavor. I let it cook for several hours instead of just one, theorizing that it would make the chicken more tender. Plus, I'm always paranoid when cooking chicken. But it did make it more tender.
The result?
More stew than soup, cassoulet is rustic and simple, while sounding delightfully French. It was deeeeelicious! Le magnifique!
This recipe was advertised to me as a soup by my mother. A particular soup, in fact, that we all fondly remember my Dad making many moons ago. And while there are definite similarities, it is not a soup. Silly Mom.
Okay, so it's rather soup looking while in the process, but the picture is deceiving.
Here is the recipe:
Field Made Cassoulet
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1/4 cup flour
4 bone-in chicken thighs
2 andouille sausages (about 1 pound), cut into 1-inch pieces
1 carrot, sliced
1 onion, chopped
1 celery rib, chopped
3 garlic cloves, chopped fine
1/4 cup red wine
1 and 1/2 tsp. dried thyme
pepper
2 12 oz. cans cannellini beans
Heat olive oil in stew pot. Dredge the chicken in the flour and place in the pot and brown on all sides. Remove and set aside. Add sausages, carrot, onion, celery and garlic to the pot and saute until sausage is lightly browned and onion is translucent, about 10 to 12 minutes. Add wine, thyme, pepper, cannellini beans, and stir thoroughly. Lay the chicken atop the mixture and press down until almost covered. Cover the pot and set on low. Let simmer, checking occasionally for about an hour.
Okay, a few notes. Upon my Dad's recommendation, I added Cajun seasoning to my flour before dredging, just to add a little pizazz. As for the sausage, if you can't find andouille, find one with a similar flavor. I used chorizo. Now, cooking with wine is a new adventure for me. I asked my Dad what he used and he said cooking wine. However, neither of my parents are winos like me. If I wouldn't drink it, I'm not going to cook with it. So I used Menage a Trois. Oh, and when I added my chicken, I also added the crispy pieces of skin and other chicken drippings, adding more flavor. I let it cook for several hours instead of just one, theorizing that it would make the chicken more tender. Plus, I'm always paranoid when cooking chicken. But it did make it more tender.
The result?
More stew than soup, cassoulet is rustic and simple, while sounding delightfully French. It was deeeeelicious! Le magnifique!
Sunday, January 18, 2009
a moment on the lips
I'm debating whether or not to go back on the South Beach Diet. In the last few weeks I have made an attempt to eat healthier. Groceries were purchased so that I could avoid the temptation to dine out. I find my portion sizes are more realistic if I'm making my own meals. I also made try to avoid artificial items (with the exception of a can of Wolfgang Puck's New England clam chowder...what can I say, I wanted some chowdah!).
Although this is progress, I still indulge occasionally. There are some local eateries that I frequent and until I summon the nerve to commit to South Beach (for it is not something to be entered lightly) for an entire month, I will continue to frequent these places. I just try to make healthier decisions when doing so.
Saturday, in an effort to avoid a massive crowd in queue for the Bus and the inevitable corresponding hour long trip, I left for work early. And I arrived to Ward Center in 20 minutes. Haha! I knew coffee was required to function in Buca di Hellhole, but instead of the habitual Starbucks run I opted for something different. Since leaving the land (in recent years it snuck it's way across the border) of the Canadian coffee haven Timmy Ho's, I miss a plain ole cup of decent coffee. Nothing flavored, foamed, or fancy...just good strong fresh-brewed coffee. Double cream, single sugar, if you please. Oh, and my sweet tooth was also acting up...again. So with a good book in hand, I stopped by Satura Cakes in hopes that I could spend an hour relaxing before heading in.
I was not disappointed.
In previous trips I have sampled many of their gourmet desserts and have yet to discover one I wouldn't order again.
Their coffee is strong, while still remaining enjoyable. And the delightful caramel crunch cream puff contained just enough sugar without causing me to go into diabetic shock. My only complaint is that they never leave enough room in your coffee for cream, nor do they ask. It happens every time and I'm always too distracted by the aromas to remind them, resulting in a puddle of cream diluted java in my saucer. I balance my various belongings in one arm, use my backside to open the door, and tread cautiously like a tightrope walker, hoping not to stain my shirt with the precious liquid.
My food travels also lead me back to Mac 24-7 last night. Oprah and I were not entirely impressed when we visited several months ago. Portions were adequate, but it still seemed overpriced. However, when it's 1am, your options are limited. I was hungry, but indecisive, which is usually the case with me. For some reason I decided on the cinnamon cluster pancakes. Whether or not the three pints of Newcastle I had influenced me in this decision, I don't know. But the two don't go well together. Surprise, surprise.
Yes, they are as big as they look. Over a foot in diameter and three stacks deep. I responded to the server by joking if I received a prize for finishing them. He replied that I wouldn't have to pay and he'd put a plaque up with my name on it. I smiled back in amusement until I realized he was serious. Really? Shouldn't I have been warned about this? I mean, I think it was pretty obvious I had not intended on participating in some kind of gluttonous competition upon entering. What's wrong with a girl just waiting some pancakes?
Alas, I barely made a dent. The kindly server wrapped the leftovers for me and sent me off into the night with a cake box full of pancakes that could feed a family of twelve.
Although this is progress, I still indulge occasionally. There are some local eateries that I frequent and until I summon the nerve to commit to South Beach (for it is not something to be entered lightly) for an entire month, I will continue to frequent these places. I just try to make healthier decisions when doing so.
Saturday, in an effort to avoid a massive crowd in queue for the Bus and the inevitable corresponding hour long trip, I left for work early. And I arrived to Ward Center in 20 minutes. Haha! I knew coffee was required to function in Buca di Hellhole, but instead of the habitual Starbucks run I opted for something different. Since leaving the land (in recent years it snuck it's way across the border) of the Canadian coffee haven Timmy Ho's, I miss a plain ole cup of decent coffee. Nothing flavored, foamed, or fancy...just good strong fresh-brewed coffee. Double cream, single sugar, if you please. Oh, and my sweet tooth was also acting up...again. So with a good book in hand, I stopped by Satura Cakes in hopes that I could spend an hour relaxing before heading in.
I was not disappointed.
In previous trips I have sampled many of their gourmet desserts and have yet to discover one I wouldn't order again.
Their coffee is strong, while still remaining enjoyable. And the delightful caramel crunch cream puff contained just enough sugar without causing me to go into diabetic shock. My only complaint is that they never leave enough room in your coffee for cream, nor do they ask. It happens every time and I'm always too distracted by the aromas to remind them, resulting in a puddle of cream diluted java in my saucer. I balance my various belongings in one arm, use my backside to open the door, and tread cautiously like a tightrope walker, hoping not to stain my shirt with the precious liquid.
My food travels also lead me back to Mac 24-7 last night. Oprah and I were not entirely impressed when we visited several months ago. Portions were adequate, but it still seemed overpriced. However, when it's 1am, your options are limited. I was hungry, but indecisive, which is usually the case with me. For some reason I decided on the cinnamon cluster pancakes. Whether or not the three pints of Newcastle I had influenced me in this decision, I don't know. But the two don't go well together. Surprise, surprise.
Yes, they are as big as they look. Over a foot in diameter and three stacks deep. I responded to the server by joking if I received a prize for finishing them. He replied that I wouldn't have to pay and he'd put a plaque up with my name on it. I smiled back in amusement until I realized he was serious. Really? Shouldn't I have been warned about this? I mean, I think it was pretty obvious I had not intended on participating in some kind of gluttonous competition upon entering. What's wrong with a girl just waiting some pancakes?
Alas, I barely made a dent. The kindly server wrapped the leftovers for me and sent me off into the night with a cake box full of pancakes that could feed a family of twelve.
Monday, December 22, 2008
ono kine grindz
I dined with my ramen concubine tonight. I am no longer embarrassed by my frequent trips to Yotteko-ya, a Kyoto-style ramen shop, but I do try to keep my visits to a minimum of once a week. This arrangement works out well for everyone.
Ah, Yotteko-ya, you serve me delicious paitan chashu ramen. (I order an extra side of chashu and have them put it on top.) You have, in my opinion, the best chashu on the island. It falls apart it's so tender. It melts in your mouth. It's heaven in the form of pork.
I splurged tonight and ordered a side of kim chee as well.
Although it's a Korean dish, most restaurants here with any Asian influence will have it on their menus. Mmm spicy pickled cabbage goodness.
Ah, Yotteko-ya, you serve me delicious paitan chashu ramen. (I order an extra side of chashu and have them put it on top.) You have, in my opinion, the best chashu on the island. It falls apart it's so tender. It melts in your mouth. It's heaven in the form of pork.
I splurged tonight and ordered a side of kim chee as well.
Although it's a Korean dish, most restaurants here with any Asian influence will have it on their menus. Mmm spicy pickled cabbage goodness.
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