Writing

I'm always blown away by those who can write. It's a daily struggle for me to express myself the way I want to. How many times do my friends and colleagues hear me ask "what's the word for ... you know, when you're ... " Are you doing a cross-word puzzle over there, D? Nope, I'm just writing a fucking email.

Shawna Wagman is one of my heroes -- boy can she write. And about FOOD too! Take this snippet she recently wrote for Ottawa Magazine:

"When Ottawa chef-icon John Taylor announced that he was
opening a casual, seasonally inspired gourmet wine bar in
a converted corner coffee shop in Old Ottawa South, foodies
rejoiced. We couldn’t help thinking of it as “Domus Lite.” But
when Genuine opened, the tenor soon turned heavy. There was
a time when fine dining meant a night away from the kids, but
the saga of the breastfeeding mother’s right to include her baby
in an evening reservation revealed tension about whether we’re
comfortable saying some places aren’t for everyone. For me, this
episode points to a less political issue as well. It highlights the
increased importance we’re placing on hospitality. And in spite
of its name, Genuine gets demerit points on that front — the service
and attitude in the room run rather cool." ....

I don't know how to describe it, but its that subtle, indirect way she has that conveys her opinion, but not in an overly judgy (I know judgy is not a word, I admit I can't write) way.

Will I ever learn by just reading? Or do I need more practice. This blog has really helped me get my ideas out, but I'm impatient and want to see leaps and bounds of improvement. Maybe a writing course?

Deprivation

Yesterday morning I turned down a glorious Cora's breakfast for the second time in three weeks and MAN, I still feel sorry for myself. I used to love eating out -- someone eles's cooking is always better than my own, and I'm not a bad cook! Of course that's because restaurants really pile on the fat and salt, which I can't bring myself to do at home. So who are all those skinny ppl dining out? Are they closet bulimics? Do they hit the gym for two hours afterwards? Surely they can't all be blessed with high metabolism?

I've *TRIED* to order from the healthy options -- Cora's does sell yogurt, fruit, plain toast after all. But COME ON! When everyone else around me is basking in buttery syrupy heaven, how can I stay strong? My Mom says that I have to accept that there are some foods I will never eat again. I remember a colleague who used to eat a tuna sandwich and orange for lunch, EVERY SINGLE DAY. She said that it was the only way she could stay thin -- she didn't have to worry about what was going to keep her lean, she had already figured it out and just stuck to the list. I know this will not work for me. I crave variety and bore easily.

Like the alcoholic who can't keep booze in the cupboard, I too cannot be near bad food. I polished off an entire large bag of decadent cc cookies last week. Initially bought for my partner and the kids, my partner didn't even realize they were in the house. When I tried to get him to eat them so that I wouldn't be able too, he said he "was full". WTF? "There's always room for dessert"is my motto.

Emotional eating is the culprit. I don't eat because I am hungry. I eat when I am stressed, sad, upset, depressed. Like right now -- so much change in my life and I am having a hard time coping. I also reward myself with dessert -- any excuse will do really.

If I want to conquer my eating problem, I'm going to have to dig deep to the source of my emotional pain, UGH... or at least find a different coping mechanism? K -- I did the impossible and changed my exercise habits, I can beat my poor eating habits too. Negative self talk will never help me achieve my goal. This demon is going down! BOOYEAH!!

Lunch!

Nothing says 'I love you' more than a packed lunch. In a few weeks, two out five of us are going to need packed lunches during the work week and I'm starting to have major anxiety about it. But rather than get all deflated, I know that if I work it into my routine and make sure I have the right ingredients on hand, I'll have enough time to turn out healthy, tasty, varied and litter-less lunches for my wee ones. I might even make lunch for myself, instead of shoving a tablespoon of peanut butter down my throat with a couple saltines (no, I don't even spread the PB, I am THAT lazy).

I love it when someone makes my lunch for me. It's such a treat! Doesn't have to be fancy -- PB&J will do. What an incredibly sweet gesture. Oh, and it tastes SO much better than when I make it. I feel guilty that I never appreciated how many lunches my Mom made for me -- right up until I was 22. I even complained about sandwiches. GAWD, I would give anything for a one of my Mom's lunches. In fact on the rare days that I have the car, I try to make some kind of excuse to end up at my parent's house for lunch. As soon as Mom hears me pull up, she's in the kitchen whipping up my lunch. Ahhhhh. Just thinking about it is making me really hungry.

Not that I am a Frugalista, I've got to get in the habit of making my own lunch. I used to pay a Lunch Lady to do this for me. They were TO DIE FOR -- salads, mains and homemade desserts made from vegetarian local fresh organic ingredients -- all packaged in the cutest bento boxes. Check it out. Well, I can't afford $12 for lunch these days, so I will have to go on my own. I won't set myself up for failure. This will require a bit of planning. I know myself -- I'm all gangbusters at the start, braggin' about my AWESOME lunches and then I get PMS or get into a fight with my spouse and it's off the wagon. I accept that this might happen. But I will keep trying. It's bound to stick. I have no choice but to feed my children, what's one extra bologna sandwich anyway?

Live to eat or eat to live?

I decided yesterday that I am done with gourmet cooking. A few years ago, I embarked on a culinary challenge -- to cook only exotic and tantalizing meals that were bursting with flavour. Mediocrity was no longer an option. And it was a success -- I've scoured recipe books and websites, watched hours and hours of Food TV and have cooked a wide assortment of meals any foodie would be proud of serving. But lately, I find the pressure to keep turning out new meals does not fit with our busy lives. More ingredients to shop for and prep, more time to marinate and braise and more fucking dishes. Who am I doing this for? The kids couldn't care less. In fact, it's always a battle trying to get them to try yet another new dish. I've proved that I can cook. I can improvise, cook for a crowd, and invent delicious recipes. Yes, I am a good cook.

I finally realize why my mother's cooking was so plain. Time. There are other things I want to be doing with my time right now. I'm not ditching my principals -- meals will still be healthy, cheap, and tasty. I'm just done with trying to strive for perfection. I broke the news to my partner last night and he was disappointed. But he agreed that there's a time and place for everything. Gourmet meals will now be the exception rather than the norm. We might even start appreciating them more. It's a lifestyle choice.

Comfort me with Cabernet

"As I raised the glass to my lips, I stopped. The aroma of the wine rushed out to meet me, and all the smells that I had ever known fell away. ... I moistened my lips with the wine and drank it slowly, letting it coat my tongue and slide from one side of my mouth to the other. The brunello trickled down my throat and out along a thousand fault lines through my body, dissolving them. My second glass tasted like a sigh at the end of a long day: a gathering in, and a letting go. I felt the fingers of alcoholic warmth relax the muscles at the back of my jaw and curl under my ears. The wine flushed warmth up into my cheeks, down through my shoulders and across my thighs." (Natalie MacLean).

OMG! I love words that move me. I must have had a lover in a previous life that was a writer -- a man who wooed me with his prose. I marvel at those who can really write. What an amazing ability to be able to express your passion and capture the hearts of others with simple words. I should start collecting passages like this in a separate blog so that I can get drunk on them. Speaking of drunk, the $7.95 Fusion that I'm drinking at the moment is no brunello, but I'm enjoying it's comfort after a full day. My brood is asleep now, my favourite time of day. The quiet darkness of a Saturday night sooths my soul. Alright, I'm not a writer :-). But I really appreciate the craft.