The 'Net is full of blogs of people who are making wholesome meals on a daily basis; and I like to think that I do the same. But I have gotten very lazy for a long time now -- probably more because I don't have a phase, like raw, to keep me in the game. There is only one truth that we don't want to accept -- and that is in order to eat healthy meals we need to make them. We can pretend that going out to restaurants is okay, but it's not. When the Sisco (Cysco?) truck drives away from a restaurant, it is leaving a bunch of crap in its wake. Crap that is prepared in the guise of food. I know this. And yet, let's face it, it is much easier to eat food you don't prepare yourself.
Where I live there are no healthy restaurants or stores that prepare healthy food to take home. When I am in a city where such a thing exists, I nearly begin to pant at the wonder of what life would be like if I had access to this on a daily basis. And when I go away, it is the first thing I take advantage of. When we were in Chicago in October, Hallie my mother and I brought home all sorts of prepared food for our dinner. It was heaven.
But that is not an option and really, the meals we feed ourselves and our families are a first line defense against getting sick. I can see a huge difference in Charlie's behavior after a few weeks of eating bad food in the form of cakes, cookies, candy and what have you that is around during the holiday season. It has always been a challenge for me to make sure he eats properly -- because it defines who he actually is. I would much rather have a sweet, considerate and happy child in the midst as opposed to a surly, growly, mean and nasty being.
Food matters. But why does it have to be such a pain?!!! In order for me to keep good, healthy food in the house I must travel. Our local Hannaford's is pathetic in terms of what it carries for organic food -- and the produce is dead. I know I have written about this time and again, but for some reason today I have come to the realization that it's too important to ignore. Last night Charlie was so hungry after I picked him up at school that we stopped at Subway. Not good.
Several blogs I am intrigued by are gluten free; and I wonder if one of the reasons I am so drawn to them is because I should be removing gluten from our diets? None of us have any particular symptoms per se, but why not remove something that clearly has impacted so many people?
http://glutenfreegoddess.blogspot.com/2010/04/turkey-meatballs-with-asian-noodles.html
The other thing I am itching to do is make bread. I love to knead dough, I find it very cathartic. I was all set to make this challah, but then realized it was a sourdough recipe and you need a sourdough starter. Bummer. Also, the problem with creating breads that are gluten free is that I run the very real risk of being the only person in the house who will eat it. And that sucks.
As I go through traditional bread recipes, I was quickly brought back to when I first began making bread as a teenager. Oh, the loaves I made that could kill people -- because they were as heavy as a brick! It has been so long since I've made bread, I wonder if I still have the touch! I became quite good at it, but stopped because everyone else in the family was eating store bought bread while I was wolfing through mine before it got stale. Hence, I was eating about five times the usual amount of bread than I normally did. Bread isn't lettuce. Oh no sirree!
A long time ago when I was a child, my father sold real estate. He had a partner and together they bought a house in the middle of nowhere in Bradford. His partner and family lived there, and we would visit them from time to time. When I say the middle of nowhere, I mean, really, the boonies. But I was fascinated by it -- and the wife made her own bread, and as I stood there in the farmhouse kitchen, she kneaded it out and then later, after we'd explored the barns and other outbuildings, she popped it in the oven. Then when it came out, she slathered the slices with butter and offered them to us -- holding them out in front of her, I stared at those hot pieces with big pats of butter melting on top and fell in love. Sheer and total love. (And then I began my own bread making adventures.)
I thought this family was the luckiest in the world! They had chickens running around outside and homemade bread and they lived in this really cool house in the middle of nowhere. Later, I would learn that they had very little money and were eating like that because they needed to. Also, the wife was quite miserable being out in the middle of nowhere as she had small children and no car. Well, she sure fooled me. But maybe she was positively blissful during those moments when she created the bread. I like to think so!
And so I am going to go make bread. It is actually not a good day for it, because the house is chilly, so it will have difficulty rising. But we shall rise above that!
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