buying a slow cooker (lyn)

I need to leave the house.  The apartment where Silvia once lived is now empty.  My lovely, quiet next-door neighbor has been replaced by workmen with hammers and drills and other loud tools.  The renovation of Silvia’s apartment has begun, and will continue for months. 

I’m also hungry, and I’ve already accounted for all the food I plan to eat today. 

I decide to go to Bloomingdales and check out the slow cookers (or crockpots, as they used to be called until some marketer decided to re-brand them into something more contemporary-sounding).  At my last WW meeting, a few people there were espousing the benefits of this appliance, so I decide to check them out.  I figure that if I do this, by the time I get home it’ll be about time for dinner, and then I’m meeting Zelia to see Next to Normal, the Tony-winning musical about a woman who is bi-polar.  Nice and cheery for the holiday season. 

Before even leaving the house, I spend a considerable amount of time online researching the perfect slow cooker.  It’s absolutely amazing how many sites there are that have reviewed and ranked this appliance.  All-Clad seems to be the winner, but it’s 6.5 quarts, and would take up my entire counter.  I’d have to get rid of my Kerig coffee maker and toaster;  two items I wouldn’t dream of parting with.   So after considering aesthetics, features, and size, I settle on the Cuisinart PSC-400.

I arrive at Bloomingdales, and it appears that every tourist visiting New York is also there.   It is so crowded.  I make it to the appliance section and find the slow cookers, but they don’t have the one I want.  Not a problem, as I’ll buy it on Amazon. They have a similar model and I like that one so I’m sure I’ll like the one I order.  Really, I was just looking for a reason to leave the house and not eat.

I get home and order the slow cooker on Amazon;  it comes with a little cookbook.  I’m anxious to try out some new recipes, but first I’ll have to figure out where to keep this thing. 

I decide to clean out a rarely used cabinet to make room.  I live through previous eras as I discard: Instruction manuals for appliances I haven’t had in over ten years; old cookbooks, one a xmas gift from my sister in 1973;   and a couple of packages of “lightweight/micro headphone replacement pads” from a world before iPods.  

I’m now ready to welcome the new slow-cooker to our home.

i'm hungry and i can't fall asleep (m)

It's 12:22 a.m. on Friday morning.  I am trying to go to sleep, but my stomach is growling.  I took a hot bath, but that didn't help.  Tried reading a book, too, but got to a section where the main characters were eating dinner and that made things worse.

Went downstairs and looked in the cabinet:  what do you have when you have to fill the void, but it can't be heavy because you need to weigh in at 9:15 a.m.?

I chose a cup of All Bran cereal and skim milk.

I swear, if this makes me gain weight tomorrow I will be really angry.

Going to bed know.  I'd count sheep but I love rack of lamb.

nonno and lala (lyn)

It’s early December and it feels like spring.  Karen and I go walking this morning jacket-less.  We see runners in short sleeves and shorts. My legs are not good enough for shorts-in-winter.  I much prefer the cold.

By lunchtime it’s still nice, and restaurants with outdoor seating are full.  But by the time Jill and I leave our afternoon screening of a tedious movie based on an unproduced Tennessee Williams screenplay (we should have known better), winter is returning.  The wind has picked up and the temperature has dropped.  Much better, I think.

Tonight I am eating in alone. 

One night a week Alexander has dinner and sleeps at his grandparent’s home (Eric’s parents).  They also live in the city, albeit on the west side. Nonno (Alexander’s grandfather) is originally from Capri, and is the quintessential Italian… warm, expressive, charming, and a great cook.  When Alexander was just learning how to speak and couldn’t say his S’s, he would still express his love for nonno’s “pahta oop” (i.e. pasta soup).

Alexander’s grandmother is called lala (as her mother was called by Eric and his sister).   Lala is also a very good cook, but perhaps more importantly, she is health conscious.   Lala doesn’t need WW to know how many calories are in everything we eat, or what percentage is from fat, or what is bad for cholesterol levels; she just knows.  She probably also knows what country the food originates from and if there are any labor issues associated with getting the food from its host country to U.S. tables.

So when Alexander spends the night with his grandparents (as he is tonight), I know he is eating a well-cooked healthy meal, is in the hands of people who adore him, and will be going to bed before midnight, something he never does at home.

avocados (lyn)

I was 26 and living in Chicago when I married Tim.  We were nothing alike.   While I was dark haired and Jewish, he was light haired and Christian.  While I grew up in the Northeast, he hailed from the Midwest (Indiana to be exact).  He was six years older than I, handsome, smart, gentle, and forgiving.  He loved me unconditionally, but I was too immature to appreciate him.

In 1979 I wrote in my diary that one of the things that concerned me about Tim was his lack of drive.   A few years ago a mutual friend of ours called to tell me that Tim was on the cover of Worth Magazine.  And In 2007, Barrons ranked him fifth in its inaugural listing of the "Top 100 Independent Financial Advisors" in the U.S.

Tim is now wildly successful, and though I no longer keep in touch with him (he is married and lives in San Francisco), I sometimes think of him, and what my life would have been like had I decided not to leave him after less than two years of marriage.  But I have no regrets.  Had I stayed married, I would never have ended up on the east coast, meeting Eric, and having my glorious son. 

Tim taught me a lot about life.  He inspired me to go on to business school and get my MBA.  He encouraged tolerance, as Tim could and did appreciate so many different types of people.  He pushed me to expand my views, as his perspective was a global one.  And he introduced me to avocados.

I grew up in a home where my mom cooked dinner almost every night.  And though I remember her stuffed veal (which we still love), her secret stuffing recipe with frosted flakes, her meat loaves and chickens, and her salads with every meal, I never remember any avocados ever being in her kitchen.

Since 1976, when I first met Tim, I’ve probably eaten thousands of trees worth of avocados.  Until recently, I’d include them in every salad, on every sandwich, as a main course stuffed with lobster or tuna, on a hamburger, as a dip, or as a side by itself with a touch of oil and balsamic.  I never was without an avocado in my home.

Studies have shown that avocados are one of the world’s healthiest fruits.  They’ve been effective in lowering cholesterol and regulating blood pressure. 

But I just can’t get pass the fact that about 75% of an avocado’s calories comes from fat.  Maybe it would have been better if Tim had introduced me to kumquats.  Those were also never in my mother's kitchen.

addendum (m)

Got a lot of feedback regarding my Chairman Mao jacket.  Some wanted photos of the larger one and the smaller-sized one, side by side.  Others commented that they, too, had a favorite article of clothing that they've "worn into the ground".

My favorite comment came from my dear friend and college roommate, Abby, who suggested I "buy some decent clothes"; "celebrate the weight loss" and view this as a "retail opportunity".

Well, if you insist.....I guess I'll go shopping.

Does Land's End count?

by year end... (lyn)

Sometime during each meeting, Steve asks, “Who has any celebrations this week?”   One woman announces that she lost three pounds, and the man who doesn’t celebrate Thanksgiving lost five.  These are all impressive numbers.  And then Shira (one of my favorite people in the group) raises her hand and says, “I lost point two pounds this week, despite Thanksgiving, a family Bar Mitzvah, and several days out-of-town.”  Then she adds, “I know this doesn’t’ sound like much, especially compared to three and five pound weight-losses, but a friend of mine told me that even if you only lose point two pounds, you still have lost, and that's reason to celebrate.” 

Just as I am starting to feel a bit bad about my weekly result (I gained exactly what Shira lost), she adds, “ But on the other hand, if you gain point two pounds, well, then you are basically the same as the week before.   It’s called Weight Watchers math."   I love the way Shira thinks.

I find it helpful to set goals.  My first goal was to lose 20 pounds by Thanksgiving and I almost made it.  There are five more weeks in the year.  My goal now (which I think is conservative but factors in the holiday season and many more opportunities to eat out) is to lose 5.6 more pounds, for a total of 24 pounds for the year.

Stating the goal publicly makes it more real.  

say goodbye to "chairman mao" (m)

I have a article of clothing I have worn almost every day for 2 years.  It's from the J. Jill catalogue and it's a denim shirt/jacket with a tab color and knot buttons.  It looks like something the Chinese peasants wore during the revolution.  I named this shirt "Chairman Mao".  My boys and my husband hate it because it is so unflattering.  I won't tell you what else they say about it.

I wore this shirt throughout our trip to South Africa.  The travel guides said to dress unostentatiously and I thought this fit the spec perfectly.  I've worn it over my bathing suit in the summer.  I've worn it to shovel snow in the winter.  I've worn it over my nightgown at night and I've worn it shopping at the grocery store in my la-de-da town.

Oh, it's gotten faded and worn out in areas, but I thought that only enhanced its character. 

I had noticed that it has gotten to be very loose on me, but I was in denial.  Until today.  I put it on, looked in the mirror and saw that it not only looked faded, it looked way too big.  The shoulders slid off.  I had to face the fact that I had to say goodbye to my beloved shirt/companion.

Thankfully, I had the foresight two years ago to order it in the smaller size as well.

Say hello to Chairman Mao 2.