Friday, July 23, 2010

Learning to Like the Yucky

We all have foods that we just can't stand, whether due to taste, texture, appearance, or some combination thereof, and it doesn't necessarily have to make sense. My husband will eat *sensitive stomach alert* raw hamburger meat and canned cream of mushroom soup straight out of the can, but rejects blueberries because "food isn't supposed to be blue." Early on in our marriage I realized that if I wanted to make something exotic (and I use the term loosely), it would be just for me. Though, in fairness to him, as long as I stay within some loose general guidelines (no fish, no casseroles, no blueberries), he usually eats what's put in front of him--or else it's potato chips for dinner.

For me, tomatoes were a childhood dislike, but years ago I learned to love them and now I can't imagine cooking or eating without them. With vegetables in particular, I go on occasional campaigns to learn to like the few that I don't; I'm not going to bother learning to love escargots or sweetbreads or rattlesnake meat, because there is no way that I will ever even taste any of those things. We all have our limits.

So, in honor of learning to like foods that you don't, I'm posting here my first recipe, for a roasted vegetable salad featuring eggplant, which I don't like much as a general rule but which I know is good for me. This salad was inspired by Ina Garten's Roasted Vegetable Salad with Orzo (very delicious), but is vegan (not that I am vegan, mind you, just pointing that out for anyone who might find that a selling point) and has no pasta. And it does have zucchini and tomatoes, which hers does not. And a totally different dressing--the dressing having been inspired in part by a slaw recipe by Crescent Dragonwagon in her "Dairy Hollow House Cookbook." So--here we go. The amount of vegetables you use is certainly flexible and you can use more or less of whatever you like to use up your vegetables. Servings--I don't know. For me, with this constituting the entire meal, this would be one serving. If you put it over pasta, then I'd say two servings. But maybe you're a lighter (or bigger) eater than me.

Roasted Vegetable Salad

1 Chinese eggplant, peeled, sliced and salted
1 zucchini, diced in 1" pieces
1/4 to 1/2 red onion, diced
1 or 2 small red and/or yellow bell peppers
1 handful cherry or grape tomatoes, halved
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 Tbls. olive oil
1 lime, juiced
1 Tbls. light sesame oil
1/2 jalapeno, minced, seeds and ribs removed to reduce the heat or leave them in if you want it hotter (optional)
Salt and pepper

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

Peel and slice the eggplant and place in a colander. Salt the slices and let sit for 20 minutes or so. Rinse them (DO NOT FORGET TO DO THIS! I forgot the first time I tried this and they were, of course, too salty) and pat them dry with a paper towel.

Line a baking sheet with foil. Toss the eggplant, zucchini, onion, and pepper with 1 Tbls. olive oil and salt and pepper to taste. Roast for 20 minutes. Remove the pan from the oven and turn the vegetables. Add the cherry tomatoes and garlic and roast for 10 more minutes, enough to soften the tomatoes.

Whisk together the sesame oil, lime juice and jalapeno. Salt and pepper to taste. Toss the vegetables in the dressing.

I think this recipe makes eggplant very easy to eat!

Recommended reading: Crescent Dragonwagon's "Dairy Hollow House Cookbook." I do not know if it is still in print, but if you can find it, check it out. My mother and I stayed once at the lovely namesake inn, though sadly, Ms. Dragonwagon no longer runs it and I do not know anyone bought it. Also sadly, her beloved husband Ned, with whom she ran the inn, was killed while riding his bicycle one day. But, it's still a treat to read her stories about the inn and her husband--she's an excellent writer, being also a children's book author--and many of the recipes have a nostalgic hippie slant.

Monday, July 12, 2010

Eating Less: The Multi-Purpose Solution

Like nearly every American woman, I'm intrigued every time I hear the promise that if I just eliminate "x" from and/or add "y" to my diet, any extra pounds will magically vanish. Every time my husband senses that I'm tempted to try a new Eating Plan for Life, he says, for the hundredth time (we've been married a long time, so we've heard everything each other has to say more than once), "Eat less, exercise more." And, every time, I have to acknowledge that that's the deep dark secret indeed, the one that we all wish wasn't true but all know is. I'm sure some people do have medical problems preventing them from losing weight no matter how carefully they exercise and watch what they eat, but I tend to feel they are in the minority. Most of us just shouldn't have eaten as much as we did.

So eating less should help eliminate extra weight, and it has the bonus of cutting down on the grocery bill. The three things that eating less food positively affects--vanity, health and money--are some of the most powerful forces in our lives. So how do we do it? Why is it so hard? Just stop eating when you're hungry, right?

Well, sometimes stopping when you're full works (when it's summer and 100 degrees outside), and sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes what you're eating is just really good and it's hard to keep your spoon out of the chocolate chip cookie dough (before you eat three cookies right out of the oven). Sometimes it's a social event ("buttered" popcorn at the movies, barbecue at the Fourth of July, second helpings of cornbread dressing at Thanksgiving). But not every day is a special occasion or a day when you are or should be unable to resist the siren call of mashed potatoes made with lots of butter and heavy cream, right?

For me, trying to eat less requires reshaping my thinking in a couple of ways. First of all, it seems to me, it helps to stop thinking of food as "snacks." "Snack" is such an innocent little word; why, it makes it seem like you're not really eating anything at all. What's the harm in a few peanut butter crackers here, or half a candy bar, or a slice of cheese? Well, nothing, individually, but when you start eating all those things in one day in addition to your meals, your calorie count and your grocery bill inevitably go in the wrong direction. I don't obsessively count calories, but recognizing that all calories count can go a long way. If I eat something in the afternoon, then I need to remember that at dinnertime and not take that second helping of whatever.

The other, and admittedly more depressing, thought to keep me on track is to remember how comparatively luxurious my pantry and refrigerator are. There are people all over the world who can't just go to the refrigerator at all--not having a refrigerator, or even electricity--let alone open it up and be tempted by sliced roast beef and Gruyere cheese and Ben & Jerry's oatmeal chocolate chip ice cream. Thinking of food as a precious commodity that I should not take for granted can help prevent mindless eating. And thinking of how scarce food is for some people helps make reasonable servings of plainly-cooked and inexpensive food seem like more of a blessing and less of an annoyance. Which in turn, is good for my weight and my checkbook.

Recommended reading: "The Healing Foods," by Patricia Hausman and Judith Benn Hurley. I can't guarantee that it is, as advertised on the cover, "The Ultimate Authority on the Curative Power of Nutrition," but it is a good place to look when you're wondering what the health benefits are of some commonly available fruits, vegetables, dairy products and meat. Its tips on what to look for when shopping for fruits and vegetables and how to store them are valuable too.