Diet, Dessert and Dogs

I know I said I’d relegate comments about my Total Health program to a coda each week, but last night’s class spurred such a barrage of ideas that I wanted to set them down (despite last week’s blathering about eating styles–we all know how well that one went over). So be warned:  this entry features no recipe, and it’s about dieting.  Please feel free to skip if that’s not of interest!

When I first started this blog back in late October (six months yesterday!!), I wrote quite frequently about my diet and (tenuous) attempts to lose weight.  I actually never intended it to morph into a food blog, but once I started reminiscing about different recipe origins, preparation methods, ingredient sources, etc., it seemed to move naturally in that direction (at least, most of the time). I preferred to write about the dishes themselves rather than my reactions to, or feelings about, them.

Well, one of our “assignments” last week in my Total Health course was to “eat without distractions.”  From what I gleaned from our instructions, this meant virtually the same thing as “eating mindfully.”  For any of you who’ve read Jon Kabat Zinn’s seminal book on mindful living, Full Catastrophe Living, this concept is familiar.  In the book, Zinn suggests eating a raisin with full attention to its shape, color, texture, smell, size, mouthfeel, taste, and effect on your emotional or psychological state.  Giving that wrinkled grape your full awareness while consuming it takes several minutes at the least, and you’d presumably experience every nuance, every physical reaction, every sensory impact of consuming that raisin.

I was a little hesitant to embrace this homework, as my schedule these days is beyond hectic and I feel I barely have time to heave a heavy sigh before the day is over.  But I did it.  Breakfast became a private communion between me and my oatmeal (or scone, or almond butter-topped apple, etc.) as I cleared the table and sat and ate. . . mindfully. 

And what did I discover?  That my mind didn’t have very much to contribute to the exercise.  That I didn’t like it. Not one bit.

For me, trying to focus exclusively on my food as I observed, smelled, tasted and then mused upon it was like “torture lite”–maybe not a figurative year in a Medieval prison, but more like recess trapped in the corner of the schoolyard with the class bully.  As with meditation, my mind kept wandering, I found myself scanning the rest of the room as if searching for a deus ex machina to release me from my penance, and I twitched and evaded and couldn’t wait for it to be over.

Me?  Wishing EATING would be over??  It’s unheard of!

In our class last evening, I raised the issue.  Was I the only one who’d had a hard time with it?  Apparently, yes.  For the rest of the class (to be fair, not everyone actually did the exercise, so I don’t know about those few who didn’t), eating with no distractions was like an oasis of peace and calm in an otherwise crazy welter of their days.  One woman even said that she’d come to rely on her breakfast ritual, in particular, as a way to start her morning on the right note, and felt unmoored without it. 

According to our instructor, sitting one-on-one with your food and forcing yourself to focus exclusively on it accomplishes a few things.  First, you are more aware of the quality of the food itself.  As she mentioned last week, it’s virtually impossible to plunk yourself down and devour a cannister of Pringles mindfully.  I found that to be true as well (not that I’ve eaten Pringles in the last decade or so):  once you know you must to sit and attend to every puff of popcorn, or every corn chip, or even every goji berry, one at a time, over and over, the idea of grabbing a quick snack between writing assignments doesn’t hold the same allure.  Similarly, if you’re eating food that is of poor quality, paying close attention to every sniff and bite will only highlight that fact, and you may find you’re not as inclined to scarf down that McDonald’s burger and fries quite so often.

In addition, eating mindfully slows down the process of how you select, bite, chew, and swallow the food, so bingeing is virtually eliminated.  When I succumb to a chocolate binge, I’m not paying very close attention to the quantity I ingest.  Basically, I eat as much as there is, until it’s gone (which is why I try not to keep it in the house).  With mindful eating, however, I realized very quickly that I didn’t need all that much to fill my belly.  After one apple (cut in segments and smeared with about a tablespoon of almond butter) for breakfast, I realized I’d had enough.  Maybe I wasn’t used to this bizarre new physical awareness, and it made me uncomfortable.

Finally, I realized that this exercise simply highlighted for me how much I’m overstuffing my schedule as well, and how I usually attempt to fit in too many items in a day; so many, in fact, that taking an extra hour or two to consume meals in isolation throws off the rest of the itinerary.  As I sat chewing my apple with awareness, I was also painfully cognizant of the newspaper draped across the opposite corner of the table, and that my solo meal meant I wouldn’t have another moment to read it that day (well, my teacher would say, you shouldn’t be reading the paper anyway–too much negative energy).

I’m going to try to stick with the practise, despite my discomfort.  For one thing, it’s helped me to determine whether or not I really want to eat something before I dig in; if it’s worth stopping my current activity to sit down and spend some alone time with a food, then I figure I must really feel like having it at that moment. Our instructor promises that the purpose of the exercise is to create a greater appreciation of what we eat, and, ultimately, a greater enjoyment of the food.  I’m waiting for that to happen.  In the meantime, I am glad for the decreased caloric intake.

This week’s homework:  incorporate greens into the diet once a day, along with cultured veggies.  Recipe coming up!

Nope, not one.  Not a single one.  Not even the tiniest smidgen of one. 

That’s right: for the first time ever in my adult life, I have not seen ONE of the movies nominated for Best Picture tomorrow night. (And YOU thought I was going to say “not one piece of chocolate!  Ha ha on you!! Well, I haven’t had a single smidge of that, either.)

And that is all I will be saying about the Oscars.

I’ve decided that I must have been a cacao overlord in a previous lifetime, and now as part of my atonement, I’m seeing chocolate, chocolate everywhere–just when I’m trying most to avoid the stuff (for those of you who just joined us in medias res, I’m attempting a detox to clear my body of the influence of the Devil Chocolate–and so, the Week of Chocolate Asceticism). 

As I mentioned before I began my week, I did whip up a few delectables before I started so that the blog wouldn’t be entirely bereft of the sweet stuff for the entire time.  Then, last night, I even dreamt of some new chocolate-based dessert I could make! 

And, of course, other bloggers are flinging chocolate this way and that, directly into my field of vision all this week: Eat Me, Delicious has just posted about a mouth-watering Chocolate Cookie Bark; The Good Eatah made a very rich, very creamy chocolate pudding;  Vegan Noodle of Walking the Vegan Line made some wicked-looking truffles; Hannah made her own–homemade!–white chocolate bar; that rascal, Michael Clayton, made nothing; Cate from Sweetnicks made Chocolate Pots de Creme (how did she find the time??) and Ivonne from Cream Puffs in Venice has even devoted an entire month to the stuff (please, somebody save me!)

And so, I decided I couldn’t escape it.  Although I am still determined not to let one mote, not one spec, not one shaving, not one MOLECULE of chocolate enter my mouth until I’ve given my system a decent break, I thought a little virtual indulgence wouldn’t do any harm.   

So here I’ll share some photos of chocolate-based recipes I’ve played with over the past few weeks, as well as some goodies I had to bake for customers.  

When I expressed some dismay that I wouldn’t be able to taste-test any of my catered goods, my friend’s very helpful teenaged daughter piped up:  “Well, you could just take a bite, chew it, and then spit it out.” Remember that episode of Sex and the City, where Miranda has dinner with an ex-boyfriend?  And they haven’t seen each other in years, and when they do, he’s lost a ton of weight?  And then they go out to eat at a swanky NYC restaurant, and he orders steak?  And then she catches him spitting a gnarly, saliva-soaked wad of chewed steak into his napkin?  Yep, that’s the one. And so you see why I couldn’t take the daughter’s advice. 

As it turns out, I’ve made most of these items several hundred times, so I didn’t have to break my WOCA and sample anything. 

The first item was a Double Chocolate Mint Explosion Cookie, part of the treats table at a birthday party.  These are fudgy on the inside, just slightly crispy on the outside–a definite winner with kids and adults alike. 

Then I revisited a recent experiment with vegan chocolate-covered caramels (to which I must devote an entire post, anon):

After that, the chocolate rush subsided a bit, leaving just the chips in a Chocolate-Chip Blondie, baked for a school event (yes, indeedy, that is a kitchen towel behind the plate):

 Next up, a Chocolate Satin Tart.  These were a holiday item last year, which I baked for a vegan meal-delivery service here in Toronto to give to their customers (I hear they’re thinking of expanding to Calgary, where the Canadian Music Awards–called the Junos–are taking place this year).  A shortbread-like crust is filled with chocolate ganache, then dusted with cocoa:

And I ended the virtual pig-out with a memory of a recent experiement, with sugar-free, gluten-free chocolate buttercream frosting:

After this heady daydream, I felt prepared to snack on my lovely carob pudding, or raw fig and cherry bars (recipe to follow eventually).  And while it’s true that this No-Chocolate Land is a tough place to be (and it’s no country for old men, either, believe me),  I do feel more energetic, a bit more in balance, and happy about my healthy eating ths week.

WOCA Update:  Big, massive, seismic cravings today. And just when I thought they’d all passed!  Serves me right for being so smug about it last post.  But I shall persevere. . . I shall battle the demon with all my wits and all my inner resources. . . and I shall overcome. . . the scourge. . . that is Chocolate! Watch out; it’s possible there will be blood. (Oooh. Do you think I could maybe get away with just one little, tiny, eensy-weensy piece?  Naw, didn’t think so.)

And to those of you who watch them, enjoy the Oscars tomorrow (and sorry about that Juno reference.  It was either that or mention the mythological daughter of Saturn.)

Both our dogs contain a generous sprinkling of Border Collie, a breed known for its patience. As a working breed, BCs were meant to guard sheep all day; and since sheep are not exactly what you’d call wild and crazy guys, the BCs must be willing to sit still for a very long time. Moreover, they exhibit what’s known as the ”Border Collie Stare”–that steely gaze that bores right through you  and makes even the most obstreperous mutton acquiesce to their wishes.

I’ve been the object of that stare, more times than I can tell you. You see, the house we live in is an ”open concept” design, so the living room opens on to the kitchen, which opens on to the rest of the house.  After many hours of sweat (mine) and a lot of practise (theirs), I’ve trained The Girls to ”stay out of the kitchen” on command.  Basically, this means they are not allowed to put paws to tile (but wood or carpet–the floor coverings of the living room–are acceptable) while I’m cooking.

Chaser learned fairly quickly by emulating Elsie that, if Mum’s cooking, it’s time to “take up the position.”  Situated at the border between living room and kitchen, they are willing to lie for hours–literally–until I finally finish my culinary experiments and reward them with a morsel of whatever I’m cooking, or a treat, depending on what’s in my pot or pan (no chocolate or onions, obviously, for them).  Now, that’s what I call patience.

And what has all this talk of breeds and patience to do with food? Well, when I started my Week of Chocolate Asceticism, I knew it would take no time before I craved something sweet and soothing.  And since I’ve also vowed to avoid added sweeteners–or pretty much anything baked or sweet–my options are severely limited.  But then I remembered:  Raw Pudding!  Cashews and carob and dates–oh, my!!  And for this recipe, despite its matchless simplicity (only 3 ingredients), patience is definitely required.  The Girls, however, never mind waiting for this one. (”Oooh, Mum, is this that date and carob thing you make?? We love that thing!! Can we have some?? When will it be ready?  Now?  WHEN???”)

Even though my One True Love will always be chocolate, I am a big fan of carob as well.  And I have nothing but admiration for fellow bloggers like Deb at Altered Plates and Veggie Girl, who regularly choose to bake with carob instead of chocolate. In fact, carob even made a chance appearance this week over at another blog, Have Cake, Will Travel.  So I felt it only fitting that I grace the blog with Raw Carob Cashew Pudding.  (”Oh, it IS that carob-date thing you make!  Is it ready yet, Mum?  Can we have some?  When??”). 

I was first introduced to carob years ago when I was a Teaching Assistant, at a university English Department party.  Another one of the TAs, a quintessential Child of the ’60s,  brought along two hippy-dippy dishes, quinoa salad and brownies made with carob.  She was one of those graceful, ethereal women who seems to glide effortlessly just above the ground as she moves, skirts undulating softly behind her (quite a feat, actually, since she was wearing a miniskirt, as I recall). 

Ms. Flower Child also spoke with the lilting, velvety voice of FM radio, the kind of voice that causes you to crane your neck and focus intently on her lips so you won’t have to repeat, ”Pardon?” after every sentence she utters. So when I asked about the recipe for the brownies, and what was in them, I never quite caught the entire answer.  All I knew was that they tasted good, and I liked this newfangled ingredient, and I’d be using it again.

I ate quite a bit of carob over a two-year span several years ago, when I followed an ultra-strict, sweetener and fruit-restricted diet. I discovered that carob is naturally sweet (it’s also low in fat and surprisingly high in calcium).  At a local organic grocery store, I happened upon whole, dried carob pods. Resembling brown pea pods, they conceal diamond-hard (inedible) carob seeds inside.  But if you gently warm the whole pods in the oven for about 5 minutes, they soften, become pliant and chewy, almost like fruit leather.  Delicious!

 So, back to the pudding (see, I told you you’d need patience for this recipe).  This is actually a variation on a simple cashew cream,  a vegan cream substitute that’s perfect over pies, cookies, fruit, or other sweets.  I’ve taken the concept just a step further, using raw cashews (which produce a creamier product) as well as dates for sweetness, carob, and optional vanilla.  Three main ingredients–four if you add the vanilla–and the result is so rich and creamy, you’d swear it took hours to make.  (Oh, wait.  It sort of does take hours to make–but only the soaking part).

Oh, and The Girls like it, too. (”Okay, so does that mean we can have some now?  Can we? How about now? MUM??”)

Raw Carob-Cashew Pudding or Mousse

The hardest part of this recipe is having enough patience to blend the mixture thoroughly, until it’s sufficiently smooth and creamy. When I’m feel that gnawing impulse for something sweet, I’m tempted to dig in early, but I’m always sorry if I do. So don’t skimp on the blender time with this recipe–you’ll be rewarded with a truly rich and celestial pudding. 

1 cup raw cashews, soaked in room-temperature water overnight (if soaking for more than 10 hours, place in the refrigerator)

12-14 dried dates, soaked in room temperature water overnight (if soaking for more than 10 hours, place in the refrigerator)

2 tsp. carob powder

water or soymilk, as needed

1 tsp. pure vanilla extract, optional

After the nuts and dates have soaked for at least 6 hours, drain the nuts but not the dates.  Pour the cashews, dates and soaking water, and carob into a blender.  Blend over low speed until combined.

If the mixture seems too thick to blend, you can either blend smaller batches or add more liquid, a small amount at a time, to encourage the mixture to whirl round.  Stop every few seconds and scrape down the sides, then blend again, continuing to blend at progressively higher speeds, until you have a perfectly smooth and creamy pudding. This may take 5-10 minutes.  Unfortunately, a food processor isn’t going to get the  mixture quite smooth enough, so you’re just going to have to wait. 

Once smooth, add vanilla if desired and whir just to blend.  Makes 2-4 servings, depending on your self restraint. Any leftovers can keep, refrigerated, up to 3 days (it will thicken more once kept in the fridge).

[The Girls, finally rewarded for their patience.]

WOCA Update: Well, it appears the crisis has passed, and I am happy to say that I haven’t succumbed to the chocolate cravings.  Despite my (attempt at a ) humorous spin on this issue, I’d like to clarify: I truly believe that chocolate addiction can be just as tenacious as addiction to cigarettes or heroin (actually, I once read that cigarettes are MORE addictive than heroin!–but that has nothing to do with chocolate).  So even though I joke about it, I really do consider this to be a very serious problem, and one that far too many people have trouble dealing with. 

That said, I want to send out a heartfelt THANK YOU to everyone who left words of support or encouragement here–it really does help!  And knowing that I’ll have to write about it on the blog (well, okay, technically I don’t HAVE to, but I would) if I slip has actually kept me on the WOCA straight and narrow these past few days.  Bloggers are awesome!

While taking some leisure time to browse through a few food blogs recently (read: two hours at my desk when I should have been working), I happened upon the blog event They Go Really Well Together, hosted by blog.khymos.org (”dedicated to molecular gastronomy”). The gist of the event is that two or more seemingly mis-matched flavors are paired according to their molecular compatibility (a la Fat Duck), said compatibility not always apparent to those deficient in the chef’s olfactory supremacy (such as moi).

Then I got to thinking, it’s true; some ostensibly odd couplings do actually work well together:  Sonny and Cher, purple and mustard yellow walls (but only for the previous tenant, not us), Elsie and Chaser, paisley and–hmmn.  Well, Sonny and Cher, anyway.

This pasta dish, a favorite in our house, is one of those weird couplings: rhyme off the ingredients one at a time and they sound not like a recipe but more like a grocery list jotted in haste on the back of an envelope, its disparate elements each appealing on its own, but not meant to share space in a simmering pot.  Yet, when tossed together haphazardly as we tend to do over here, the result is pure delight.

I must admit, I have a tendency to be remiss about planning meals even at the best of times (”Does that make you bad, Mum?  Bad Girl! Can we have your treats, then?”), but during times such as these, when I’m inundated with midterm assignments and hillocks of tests to mark, I’m lucky if I have a passing thought about dinner as I turn the key in the front door at 6:00 PM.  Okay, I’m exaggerating, just a little.  5:58 PM.

And so this pasta is our saviour many a busy night.  It comes together incredibly quickly, basically in the time it takes to boil and drain the noodles.  I’m sure I’ve seen variations of this combination floating about on the Internet, but since we were introduced to the recipe this way, we like to stick with it.

The dish combines soba noodles, the Japanese version of spaghetti, with the agreeable combination of ginger, soy sauce, and chard.  It’s also a great way to incorporate more greens into your cooking, as the chard shrinks down until it’s barely noticeable, never overtaking the toasted nuts.  The sprinkling of chili flakes provides a pleasant hint of spice that lingers on the palate.  And it’s enough, on its own, for a satisfying light dinner.

We got the original recipe from the newsletter we receive each week with our organic produce delivery.  We’ve tweaked it slightly, but not much.  And since it truly is a presto! pasta, I’m submitting this to the weekly Presto Pasta night event, hosted by Ruth at Once Upon a Feast. 

Soba Noodles with Ginger, Chard and Walnuts

This is a great recipe for a quick and easy dinner.  Nuts combined with the whole-grain noodles provide a complete protein in this meal, and the chard adds a bevy of minerals and vitamins.  [And isn't it cute how the pasta and the plate are all kind of the same colors?]

1 package (about 1 lb/500 g.) soba noodles (we use Sobaya, kamut-buckwheat)

3 Tbsp. extra virgin olive oil

4-5 cloves garlic, chopped

1 1″ (2.5 cm) piece ginger, peeled and minced

1/2 tsp. (or more, to taste) chili flakes

2-4 Tbsp. tamari or soy sauce, depending on your taste

1/4 cup water

1 large head chard, washed, ribs removed, and chopped into large pieces

1/2 cup toasted walnut pieces

nutritional yeast (or, for the omnivores, grated parmesan cheese)

Fill a large pot with water and set it boiling for the soba noodles.  When the water boils, add the noodles and cook according to package directions. Drain and set aside.

At the same time as the water heats, begin the sauce.  In a large pot or dutch oven, heat the oil and add the garlic and ginger.  Saute until the garlic begins to brown (don’t worry if the mixture sticks a bit to the bottom of the pot).  Add the chili flakes and stir for another 30 seconds or so.

Deglaze the pan by pouring the soysauce over the garlic and ginger mixture; the browned bits should come loose.  Add the water and chard, and stir to coat the chard and allow it to wilt a bit, 2-3 minutes. Toss in the walnuts, turn down the heat and cover the pot.

By now, your noodles should either be ready or just about ready.  As soon as the noodles are done, add them to the pot with the chard mixture, and toss to distribute the mixture and coat the noodles.  Serve immediately, sprinkled with nutritional yeast.  Makes 4 entree servings.

WOCA Update:  So.  Three days down.  But I’m hanging in there I want chocolate. It’s tough, but with effort, I’ll persevere Must. Have. Some.  Give me some. I knew before I started that I’d have a hard time giving up my favorite food Chocolate. NOWGivemeNOW. But I mustn’t capitulate, or all is lost! No; there will be no chocolate in the GimmesomeNOW. No, no chocolate!  Chocolate is verboten. Choco–NOW, I said. You know you want it.  Go on, just have some. . . NO!  Chocolate is my downfall, every time!  Absolutely no chocolate.  No–Eat it.  Eat it now. Yummy, creamy, sweet, deliciou–Back, stay BACK, you sweet satan!  Chocolate must be eradicated!  Chocolate is the devil! Chocolate is–Just take some.  So what if it’s fattening.  Who cares if it’s bad for you.  C’mon.  Just take one, just a little piece. . . I won’t tell if you don’t.  Okay, I’ll pay you.  You can have my comic book collection.  You can have my wedding band (the one from the first marriage).  You can have my–OUT, OUT, DAMNED CHOCOLATE!!  A POX ON YOU, I SAY! LEAVE ME! AVAUNT AND BE GONE! LEAVE ME IN PEACE!! leave me. . . . .leave. . . me. . . .

Ahem.  Well.  This may be just a tad more difficult than I anticipated.

Part I:  THE JUICE SEGMENT (feel free to skip to Part II)

We’re having some down time today at the DDD household, as today is the first-ever Family Day holiday in Ontario (I’ve always thought it only civilized to have a day off in February–the gap between New Year’s and Easter/Passover is just too long).  Everything government-related is closed, as are many retail establishments, so the streets are quiet and still.  Why, it’s the perfect atmosphere to reflect on my first entire day of WOCA (Week of Chocolate Asceticism)!

But since I know you’re likely more interested in the food than my self-imposed abstemiousness, I’ve decided not to dwell on my woe-is-me struggle to avoid chocolate during this time.  Instead, I’ll provide an update each day at the end of the post–following the main attraction (a new recipe!).  And one of the perfect ways to start off a shiny, new, ”clean” week of eating is a delicious, cleansing, freshly-squeezed vegetable juice.

What? Juice?? But where, you may ask, are all the desserts?  Where are the cookies, the muffins, the pies, the cakes?  Where are the yummy, creative vegan dishes?  Where is the–CHOCOLATE?

Ah, yes.  Now, now, let’s all take a deep breath, count to ten, and focus on the mantra  kiss and make up reload the chamber try to calm down.  No, no, we haven’t abandoned chocolate indefinitely!  That sweet sepia beauty shall return; all in good time.  In the meantime, however, I have a party to attend in less than 2 weeks, which means I need to get my ass in gear (no, I mean that literally–I have no gear big enough to fit my–well, you get the idea). 

Despite having a well established and famous juice-bar-turned-restaurant here in Toronto, I first tasted a freshly squeezed vegetable juice in Ithaca, New York, at the famed Moosewood restaurant.  The HH and I were on our way to visit my Boston cousins for a few days, and spent an evening exploring the university town.  After reading so much about the Moosewood over the years (and coveting the Moosewood cookbooks I owned), I couldn’t wait to try their food.  The juice was merely an afterthought–”Something to drink before your meal, Ma’am?”–so I ordered without really thinking about it (I was too fixated on having been called “Ma’am,” I guess). I had a carrot, beet, and ginger mix, and was immediately enamoured! The HH, not quite so infatuated, declined to even taste it (”I can smell the beets,” he pouted.  “It smells like dirt.”).

A few years later, I learned more about fresh juices in nutrition school, and was so inspired I promptly went out and bought myself a ridiculously overpriced single-gear juicer.  Freshly squeezed, juice is a detoxifyer, immune booster, and wealth of nutrition. (If you’re interested in learning more, there’s a quick and clear description of the power of raw juices in a book my friend PR Queen lent me, called Raw Food: Life Force Energy.)

As a result of that juicy inspiration, I peeled, chopped, pushed, propelled, squeezed, filtered and poured enthusiastically for the first year or so, before I grew weary of spending 15-20 minutes just to clean the mechanical monstrosity when it took me all of one minute to actually drink the beverage it prepared.  You see, juicers tend to generate an abundance of both juice AND pulp; and the pulp has a tendency to cling obstinately inside the filter (which turns out to be a good thing for the juice per se, as you really don’t want to be lapping up strings of celery fiber from your glass).  Nonetheless, juicing can be an onerous task.

 One of my favorite juice combinations in the morning is carrots, apple, celery, beets, ginger, parsley and dark, leafy greens (usually kale), with a clove of garlic thrown in for good measure (and the anti-microbial properties in confers).  Drink one of these concoctions first thing, and you’re basically buzzing until lunch (with complimentary protection against vampires included). 

I did convince the HH to try my juice, just once.  His response–emitted along with a fine spray of the green liquid itself–was: “Aaarrggghhhecchhh!! This tastes like A FIELD OF WET GRASS.”  (Now, don’t ask me how he knows what a field of wet grass tastes like; but anyway.)

And so, rather than impose the selfsame green terror on all of you this fine winter’s day (I’ll save that for another fine winter’s day), I thought I’d start off this week with something nourishing, something sweet and crunchy, something to suit breaking the fast in the morning:  homemade granola!  

Part II:  THE GRANOLA SEGMENT

Over the past few years (ever since I studied holistic nutrition) I’ve had colleagues and friends occasionally remark as I wax poetic about tofu or kale, “Now, don’t go all crunchy granola on me, Ric.”  But I’d never take offense at the comment; I could never comprehend why that phrase should be flung pejoratively. What is wrong with crunchy granola, anyway? 

 As far as breakfast cereals go, granola (a real, whole-foods kind, not sugar- and fat-laden varieties you find in wax-lined boxes) is one of the best.  A flavorful potpourri of whole grains with their generous mineral and fiber content, gem-like dried fruits with theIr chewy sweetness and tang (and even more of those necessary minerals), and the occasional flake of coconut or morsel of toasted nut (both providing healthy fats)–well, what’s not to love? 

Although I’m not a regular consumer of cold breakfast cereals (though I do love me some baked oatmeal once in a while), granola is one cold cereal I do fancy.  I love the mix of textures from crumbly to crunchy to chewy, all bathed in opaque milky sweetness (whichever type you choose).

This recipe is loosely based on the one in Becoming Vegetarian by Melina Vesanto, and I’ve adapted it liberally.  I’ve added more of the liquids to bind the granola into clusters, and adapted the fruits to suit my tastes (also adding a bit more than the original recipe suggests).  Here’s the mix of dried cranberries, unsweetened cherries, raisins, goji berries I used this time round. The array of dark reds and brilliant coral of the gojis nestled on top the grains creates quite a tantalizing mosaic of color.

Homemade Crunchy Granola

You won’t miss the usual wheat in this satisfying, healthy granola.  It is slightly less dense than store-bought, and contains less fat. This holds up well in milk and is equally good as a snack on its own. For a gluten-free version, simply use oats, buckwheat, or quinoa flakes.

4 cups old-fashioned oats (not instant)

1 cup rye, barley, or soy flakes, or a combination (I used buckwheat and barley flakes)

1 cup coarsely chopped nuts (I like almonds, cashews, and pecans)

1/3 cup dried coconut (unsweetened)

1 tsp. cinnamon

1/4 tsp. cardamom (optional)

1/2 cup sesame butter (tahini)

1/4 cup maple syrup or agave nectar, or a combination

1/4 cup water

1 tsp. pure vanilla extract

1 cup puffed brown rice cereal (I use Erewhon)

1/4 cup sunflower or pumpkin seeds (I used both)

1-1/2 cups dried fruit (I like raisins, chopped apricots, chopped dates, dried cherries, dried apple, dried cranberries, or a combination)

Preheat oven to 325F.  Spray a large roasting pan with nonstick coating. In a large bowl, mix the oats, rye (or other flakes), nuts, coconut, and cinnamon. (If using raw seeds, add these now as well).

In a smaller bowl, mix together the tahini, water, liquid sweetener and vanilla, blending well. Pour this over the dry ingredients and mix well to coat most of the flakes. 

Pour the granola into the prepared pan, spread evenly, and roast for 40-50 minutes , mixing every 20 minutes or so (be sure to move the mixture at the edges toward the centre to avoid burning, and move the mixture in the centre out to the edges).

Remove from oven and cool completely.  Then add the fruits, puffed rice cereal and pre-roasted seeds (if using) and mix well. Store in jars or airtight plastic containers.  Makes about 8 cups.

Since these foods combined contain both fruits and vegetables, I thought they’d make the perfect submission to Sweetnicks’ weekly ARF/5-A-Day event. You can check out all the entries on Tuesdays.

WOCA Update:  The first day of my chocolate abstinence was pretty much as I expected it would be–very difficult.  One thing I’ve learned in the past (like, the 75 or so other times I’ve gone through this cycle) is that, if I truly wish to avoid eating the sweet stuff, I should allow myself as much as I like of anything else that’s whole, healthy, or naturally sweetened (such as fresh fruits)–at least for the first few days.  So today I ate more nuts than I would have liked, and snacked on more leftovers from our V-Day dinner than I would have liked (though not the pie, evidemment), but I managed to go 24 hours without consuming anything chocolate or anything containing added sweeteners; one hurdle passed! 

(”We knew something was up, Mum, when you forgot to give us our Kongs this afternoon. . . hurry up and get over this, okay, Mum?”)

For the three of you who’ve been following this blog since the beginning, you may have noticed that my “diet” posts (ie, posts in which I talk about how my diet’s not working, posts in which I discuss how I’d like my diet to be working better, posts in which I examine how I might be able to make my diet work better, or, simply, posts in which I use the word “diet” a lot) have gone MIA.  Wherefore art thou, O Ricki’s Diet, and why has she forsaken you?

Well, I must apologize.  It’s not that I’ve forgotten about my diet (ha! AS IF), but more that I haven’t felt there was anything worth reporting or mulling over lately without sounding terribly repetitive. Given that the original intent of this blog was (at least, partly) to chronicle what I hoped would be a monumental (40-lb.) weight loss over the next year, and to share with you how I was going to go about doing that, I seem to have lost sight (but never taste, apparently, or I might have actually lost an ounce or two) of the goal. 

Honestly, it’s not because the ”diet” aspect of the blog is any less important.  It’s not because writing about food–desserts, especially–is any more fun (even though it is). It’s mostly that I haven’t been feeling very worthy of writing about dieting lately, given my recent eating patterns (which, suspiciously, resemble my pre-blog eating patterns).  How can I write with any authority about losing weight when I’m not doing so?  If you’ve looked at the progress tracker at all, you’ll see that the numbers have been going up, down, up, down, up, down, even more than the Paul McCartney-Heather Mills negotiations.  I’ve been so taken lately with all the appealing, interesting recipes and food in the world of blogging that I’ve neglected taking care of me and my health.

Well, that’s all about to change.  Now that Valentine’s Day is almost over (in our house, it’s taking place tomorrow), I’ve made a resolution.  True, most people make their resolutions on January 1st; but I’ve always been a later bloomer. 

Soooo. . . I’m going to declare the rest of February a “Chocolate-Free Zone.” 

You see, since I was a wee tot (who am I kidding?  I was never “wee”), chocolate has been the bane of my existence. Like an ex-boyfriend that you can’t quite let go of, like a Canadian winter, like the Oscars–I both love it and hate it.

The “love it” part is easy:  it’s a perfect base for dessert (which, after all, is my area of specialization); it’s creamy, smooth, sweet, delectable; it’s a booster of serotonin levels; it’s a portable bite for that 3:00 PM sugar crash; and it’s my very, very favorite, “I-can-eat-it-any-time-even-for-breakfast,” food.

The “hate it” part is less black and white (or milk and white, depending on your predilection): it’s a source of sometimes uncontrollable cravings; it’s the cause of weight gain (though not of acne, as once believed); it’s a pathetically poor substitute for a hug, a phone call with your best friend, or therapy; and it’s usually not as good as you thought it was going to be (sort of like that ex-boyfriend, again).

For me, the only way to avoid the inner turmoil around chocolate is the extreme move of cutting it out entirely.  Not forever (I couldn’t live with that), but for at least a week, until the urge passes. I’m embarking on a chocolate fast.  No chocolate.  No eating it, no baking with it, no buying it, no hiding it in the cupboard for a little nip when I’m feeling down. 

Instead, I’m going to try out a week (or, if I can make it, two) of eating in a way that’s worked for me in the past: a NAG-friendly , semi-detox diet of fresh fruits, vegetables, whole grains, nuts, seeds; minimal whole-grain flours; and only stevia as an added sweetener.  And NO CHOCOLATE.  (”How about cocoa, Mum?”) No, not even cocoa. (”How about carob, Mum?”)  Carob is acceptable. I’m also going to aim for over 50% raw foods each day. 

For me, this move is part desperation and part a yearning to regain to the experience of vibrant energy and health I enjoyed during my year studying natural nutrition.  At the time, one of my teachers there followed a 100% raw-foods (or living-foods, as it’s also called) diet. She also taught cooking classes, and I attended every one.  I was amazed at how fantastic the food was–colorful, delicious, a veritable feast for the senses.  I’m hoping to share some of her recipes, as well as others I’ve discovered over the years.

Hopefully, this new hard-line regime will help me ride out the chocolate-DTs, followed by a more moderate approach to eating (and, of course, chocolate)–and maybe even a little weight loss.

I do have a couple of desserts and one or two other dishes that I’ve recently prepared and will post as blog entries over the next two weeks, but for the most part, I’ll be sharing my healthier, detoxifying, health-conferring goodies with you.  And I’m hoping that declaring it this way on the blog will help me to actually follow through!

So I hope you’ll bear with me after the recent influx of indulgent baked goods.  Like some of you, I sometimes feel that a day without baking is a day devoid of some ineffable, necessary primal “something,” something that satisfies at the chromosomal level. 

No doubt, the baking will return.  Part of my goal when I started this blog was to lose 40 pounds before my next birthday, and unless I somehow get the chocolate habit under control, I know it won’t be a very happy one.  (And speaking of birthdays, another HUGE impetus for the chocolate ban is the upcoming birthday bash for Gemini I’s husband–a massive party in the works–on March 1st.  Two weeks away; need something nice, nothing fits, don’t want to have to buy something new. Think I could lose 10 pounds by then?  Me, either.)

And so, chocolate, adieu.  It’s only for a short while, but I’m hoping that absence, in this case, will not make the heart grow fonder.  No doubt I will miss you; I may even pine for you.  Still, one day, I hope to look at you with the same indifferent eye with which I gaze at Cream of Wheat, or paisley, or Josh Groban (sorry, Josh, not a big fan). After the week is over, let’s renegotiate our relationship in a more level-headed manner. In the meantime, I’ll attempt to forge ahead on my own, without you. But we’ll always have Paris (it is, after all, home of your finest specimens).

(”Oh, Mum, you’re so histrionic.  Really, get a grip. Who cares about chocolate?  It’s not a big deal.  But, um, you’re not thinking of changing your mind about carob now too, are you?  Because, you know, we’re allowed to eat carob, and we really love that carob-date thing you make.  So we can keep the carob, can’t we, Mum? Can’t we?  Mum???”)

I wouldn’t have believed it myself if it hadn’t happened to me personally (why, yes, you’re absolutely right, that does sound like the opening line of a letter to Penthouse Forum! But sorry, it’s not).

Two whole days, and I have consumed not one single sweet. No cookies.  No cake.  No muffins, even.  But best of all:  no chocolate! My small intestine is saying, “thank you.”  My gastric juices are whispering, “we appreciate the time off.”  My liver is chanting, “Bless you, my child.”  The scale is even winking at me in gratitude. The Girls–well, they’re not as thankful.  (”We really do miss getting the leftover bits of those oatbran banana muffins, Mum.“)

How did I accomplish such a feat, you ask? Well (like so much else in my life, unfortunately), it wasn’t a conscious choice.  I have discovered since our new semester began this week that it is just soooo much easier for me to eat healthfully when I have some distraction.  During the past two days, I’ve had distraction squared.  Exponential distraction.  To wit, dozens of students emailing with questions, numerous pieces of coursework to put into place, several meetings with colleagues, coordinators and Chairs (and chairs, too, actually), a cooking class to present in a major grocery store, a doctor’s appointment, and myriad other little errands and domestic tasks that I’ve left by the wayside for too long (hmmmm. .. why don’t we see just how long we can live without unpacking the second half of our kitchen, still in boxes from our recent move?)

On some level, I guess I know that my dietary habits are curbed by being busy, so I tend to overbook myself, sometimes to the point of exhaustion.  But hey, I like it that way; I get too stressed out when I’m not so busy that I’m stressed out.

It just seems that the ability to exert willpower over poor dietary choices is much more effective when I have many things to occupy my time and mind.  This fact tends to convince me that my eating is, indeed, emotional, as I am able to easily ignore even the most insistent rumbling of my stomach during times that I’m involved in what Mihály Csíkszentmihályi (I swear, that’s his real name) would call a “Flow” activity.

I guess I’ve always been someone who requires structure and consistency to be comfortable and stave off anxiety. As an undergraduate, I was exceedingly organized, so much so that I could work part time, go to school full-time, be a teaching assistant part-time, and still have a social life.  I was one of those annoying students who elicited the gag reflex in others by always having her course readings done (with notes) before class, and always finishing essays long before the due date (though I never actually handed them in before the due date, because I didn’t want my professors to think I hadn’t used the maximum time allotted, thereby designating me a slacker).

When it comes to my eating habits, however, I tenaciously resist the idea of structure.  Why? There have certainly been times in my life when I did diet according to “Diet Rules,” whatever fashion dictated they were at the time. 

Ah, nostalgia: I remember clearly when The Nurse first explained to me (a mere tyke at the time!) about the concept of calories. The rules were easy:  it didn’t matter where you got your calorie buzz as long as your sinful activity never exceeded a certain number per day (I think it was 1000 at that time).  You could eat anything you wanted, no matter how decadent, and you’d still lose 5 pounds a week as long as you followed the rules. But if you went too far, or enjoyed too much, you’d pay for breaking those rules by growing fatter and fatter, and your friends would ultimately reject you. So we went on a chocolate cake diet, eating one slice of it for breakfast, one for lunch, and one for dinner in order to lose weight. (Come to think of it, that was also about the time she explained the birds and the bees to me as well, so maybe I’m getting those two sets of rules mixed up.)

Later on was the “same thing for each meal” diet (not to be confused with the previous one, which is technically the “same thing for every meal” diet).  In its second incarnation, the diet prescribed a bowl of corn flakes with skim milk for breakfast, a salad and orange for lunch, and chicken and vegetables for dinner.  At that time, I was working lunch hours in the high school cafeteria, so I’d get my orange and salad for free (I know, I can get my entire lunch for free, and what do I pick?  Salad and an orange).  Back then, in my early teens, that diet also worked beautifully. I did lose weight, my first large weight loss.  Unfortunately, I also lost my period and felt pretty crappy most of the time.  (Oh, and losing the weight didn’t help me get a boyfriend, either. Bummer.)

I could go on (but I’ll spare you).  Suffice it to say that, over the years, I tried sundry and various ways to lose weight, always keeping it off for a short time (except my one big “lose,” after which I maintained my slim self for about a decade).  But eventually, I gained back the weight in the most cliched fashion, even surpassing the previous “high” weight.

Lack of success in the past may explain why I’m diet-shy at the moment and bristle at any mention of counting points, calories, carbs, fat grams, or anything else that would cause me to practise my rusty addition or subtraction skills before eating.  I am truly thankful that I haven’t felt the urge to consume anything unhealthy in the past two days, but I’m still not entirely sure why that’s been the case. 

What I’m aiming for, eventually, is to regain the power in that equation (there’s that darn math again!), allowing me to assume conscious control of whether or not I lean toward the slice of chocolate cake or the scrambled tofu for dinner.  And judging by the last couple of days, it would make sense to examine just what it is that distraction offers.  Because in the end, I think it’s far preferable to meander through your days, relaxed and aware, than to rush through a predetermined schedule just to avoid the temptation of unhealthy eating.

Well, I hope everyone out there had a Happy New Year.  Ours would have been very pleasant and laid back–after all, we were guests at my friend’s 8000 square foot “cottage” (you read that right–were we lucky, or what??), we were in a pastoral wonderland of snow, lake, birch trees, rare birds and other wildlife prancing past the picture windows between the stone and wood walls, and we spent the time with two of my very favorite people in the world, Gemini I and Gemini II, as well as their families.  Could it get any better?

In our pre-Chaser days, we used to go up there fairly frequently, and have spent many a lovely Thanksgiving or Christmas with the Gemini I family. This time, however, we discovered a tiny, heretofore unseen quirk in our (post-Chaser) Elsie Girl, something we’d never witnessed before:  she has a newfound propensity to lunge at and–if permitted–eat any of the other dogs up there (Chaser excluded).  What the–?? 

My beloved fur baby, the one I’ve adored since we got her from the pound back in 2002, the one who is consistently docile and sweet and gentle?  The one I refer to variously as Sweet Face, Sweet Girl, Honey Girl, My Darling Girl, My Little Love, and innumerable other nausea-inducing, endearing sobriquets?  The one who timorously permits Chaser to nibble endlessly on her ears like popcorn at the movies, who hangs her head in submission when I see her even walking toward the open garbage can, who lies at my feet silently here at the computer and reminds me, with a barely perceptible, feathery whisper of a touch with her nose, that it’s dinnertime? 

Yes, that one.  What on earth has gotten into her?

As a result of this sudden possession by the Dog Satan, we spent most of the time hovering over Elsie to ensure that she didn’t consume Gemini I’s new cat, or bundling up in our snow suits to accompany Elsie on the leash to do her “business” outside.  How I wish Cesar Millan lived in Canada. Sniff.

I also realized, as soon as we were on the road and past the point where it would be feasible to turn back, that I’d forgotten my camera up north.  Granted, it’s a cheap little unit (I must be the only blogger on the face of the planet who takes pictures with a camera she got for free using Air Miles), and also I have no photographic ability, but I am inordinately fond of the thing and it feels like traipsing around the house naked to post without photos of any kind. 

The final rather unpleasant discovery to greet me after the weekend (well, actually, the last two weeks) is that it appears I have gained a couple of pounds (really?  pigging out on baked goods and chocolate can do that to you?).  As a result of all these events, I’ve been feeling pretty disheartened since we got back.  Boo hoo.

Well, as Cesar himself would say, it’s the owner, not the dog, that needs training whenever there’s a problem.  Don’t I know it: time to listen to The Great Emperor of Dog Training and get my ass in gear, literally and figuratively.  Also, a perfect opportunity for some goal setting (notice I didn’t say, “resolutions”). 

Every year around this time–sometimes right on the first of the year, sometimes not until April–I sit down and write out a “Five-Year Plan,” a set of goals to reach within 5 years, 2 years, one year, and the next six months.  This is something I learned about from the original study at Harvard (I didn’t participate, just read about it) that confirmed how those people who actually write down their goals are more inclined to someday achieve them.  Some years it works better, some years worse, but it always seems to help keep me on track and steer me toward my goals, even when I immediately put the list back in its desk drawer and promptly forget about it till the next year. 

I’m also always amazed at the goals that eventually come to fruition even when I’ve literally forgotten about them in the interim.  To wit, a couple of years ago one of the goals I wrote was “Work with a business coach for free.”  Through a series of serendipitous events, I ended up with three full months of terrific coaching. Similarly, “guest appearance on TV morning show.”  Or, “Adopt second dog.”  At the time I wrote that, my HH’s response was a definite “no.” As the months rolled by, for some reason, he ultimately changed his mind, and eventually he succumbed.  Now, he’s Chaser’s greatest fan, and the two of them are almost inseparable.(”Thanks for changing your mind, Dad!  You’re so much fun to wrestle with. . .but wait a sec, Mum, if you’re not also my greatest fan, then whose fan are you–?“). 

So, to that end, I am going to list my goals.  I will say straight up that this isn’t the complete list, as there are still some things that I’ll keep private (goals related to relationship, family, etc.), but given the name of the blog, I think I should at least include all the food-related and health-related ones here. 

Of course, everyone and their cousin is making resolutions about now, and to that end, there was a humorous send up of these kinds of lists in the Arts and Life section of the National Post today.  Near the top of the list was this goal:

“Shed those unwanted pounds, or, if that’s too hard, spend some quality time with those pounds at a Wendy’s and make them feel wanted again.” 

In that same spirit, I shall not berate myself for those “unwanted” two pounds, or the fairly unstable wagon off of which I’ve fallen. Instead, I’m going to set about outlining some goals for the next while.

And So:

Five Years Hence:

• Post and Beam.  My lifelong (okay, adult-long) dream is to own a post and beam, slightly north of the city, with my two dogs and HH (and in it, I’ll still be writing this blog, of course).
• maintain normal, healthy weight and eating habits (continued since year one), following the plan I outlined, below, in the 6-month goal. 
• go swimming on a regular basis (something I used to love as a kid/teenager, and have been too embarrassed to do in public since the weight gain).
• Have meditation as a daily part of my life, yoga (or other easy-on-the-joints, meditative exercise) as a weekly part of my life.
• continue to have an easy, healthy relationship with dessert, able to enjoy with moderation without being thrown into binge mode, as outlined below in the one-year goal.
• have a healthy, effective method in place for dealing with stress (hey, may as well reach high once I’m setting goals, right?).

Two Years Hence:

• maintain normal, healthy lifestyle and eating habits since year one (as outlined below, in the 6 month section).
• maintain a healthy, normal relationship to dessert, as outlined below in the one year goal.
• have meditation as a daily part of my life, yoga or similar type of exercise as weekly.
• go swimming again–take lessons if necessary.
• have healthy, effective method for dealing with stress in place and almost perfected.

One Year Hence:

• reach normal, healthy weight (about 50 pounds from now) 
•  achieve a sense of control around desserts–that is, the ability to eat them within reason, without breaking into a binge because of one chocolate bar, or brownie, or piece of cake
• continue to create healthy, delicious desserts for fun and profit
• continue to eat a balanced, NAG-friendly diet.
• complete an intro to yoga course, and continue throughout the year.
• improve work on weights, to previous levels, working with trainer if necessary.
• continue with regular exercise at least 6 days a week, as outlined below.

Six Months Hence:

• down 25 pounds from now
• eat a balanced, NAG-friendly diet.  (I know from past experience that this will help me with the dessert goal, above, as I seem so much less inclined toward unhealthy foods when I regularly consume veggies, whole grains, and the like).
• exercise regularly:  weights/club at least 3x per week; treadmill at least 4x per week (I know this can be done, as I’ve done it before, for years at a time)
• take intro to yoga or similar exercise course; begin meditation, with the help of a course if necessary.

I think these are realistic goals, especially since I know I’ve mastered some of them in the past.  I’m also giving myself a fairly lengthy period to establish new habits (I’ve read that it takes about 6 weeks of repetition to establish a new habit, but have never found that to be true for me; even after 2 years of eating no sweeteners whatsoever, it didn’t take long to return to old habits once I allowed sugar back into my life).

Now, of course there are many other goals on the piece of paper written out here at home, such as those related to my writing career or travelling (basically, I’d like to do some).  But for now, if I can focus on the physical health and psychological wellness, I think I’d have a great head start toward everything else. 

(”You go for it, Mum!  My goal this year is to earn more treats.  Oh, and I suppose not to attempt ripping apart other dogs would be good, too.’)

I remember vividly my first day in English class as an undergraduate student, so many decades ago.  The professor was lecturing about Samuel Beckett, and remarked that Beckett was “an enigma.”  With that comment, I felt a little faint:  here I was, an upstart 17 year-old already in her second year of university (courtesy of advanced credits from having attended CEGEP in Quebec), and I had no idea what “enigma” meant.  I immediately scribbled the word down at the top of my notepage, and as soon as class was over, dashed home to look it up.  Thus started my lifelong practise of vocabulary-expanding via writing things down.  Needless to say, as soon as this new word was on my linguistic radar, I began to see it everywhere.

The same pattern persisted with basically all the new words I learned along the way (okay, maybe not with “hermeneutic”), but the one that stuck in my mind and won a singular place in my heart was oxymoron.  You know, the kind of paradox that contains the opposite of itself, yet is essentially true: to wit, George Carlin’s famous “jumbo shrimp” or the now-ancient (and no longer true, anyway) “Canadian literature.”  So when I say that I myself am an oxymoronic kind of eater, I say it with a modicum of affection.  But with a heavy stress on “moronic.”

Tofu and Twinkies, Collards and Caramels, Chard and Chocolate, Brewer’s Yeast and Brownies–take any of these diametrically opposed pairs of foodstuffs, and I love each individual part–and love them equally.  I can munch on millet with sauteed garlic, onion, tamari and walnuts, then an hour later, go out and chomp on some chocolate-covered raisins.  I can eat a delicious meal of raw kale salad with avocado, baked sweet potato wedges with sesame seeds and Thai Peanut Dipping Sauce (I must post that recipe–fab!), then later in the afternoon, suck back some Betty Crocker Cream Cheese “Flavor” Frosting, straight from the can.  And, just as with my Girls, I recognize that each one is totally different from the other, yet can adore each with the same degree of passion.    

I got to thinking about this paradox today after spending a lovely morning at the Whole Life Expo with my friend Michelle.  I’d previously enjoyed a great week of eating totally healthfully (yes, I’ve been indulging in my Mock-Chocolate Pudding, but hey, it’s tofu and agave nectar!) and looked forward to seeing a plethora of new health-foodie products at the show. 

 After a long drive downtown during which our chatter became so animated that I, the driver, nearly hit a streetcar at one point, we began our tour of the place.  Aisles and aisles of alternative-health products to gaze upon and sample.  It was like Disneyland for hippies!  As it turned out, we started our tour in the food section, and viewed some amazing products.  All with abundant free samples.  All delicious.  All good for me. Until the chocolate.

First up was goji berries, the latest berry to join the antioxidant roster. If you haven’t tasted gojis yet, I’d highly recommend it.  Higher in Vitamin C than oranges, higher in Beta Carotene than carrots, higher in protein than whole wheat, and higher in most other vitamins, minerals, and essential nutrients than pretty much any other berry, these little crimson gems are both tart and sweet, with a whif of bitterness as a nearly undetectable afterthought. One of my favorite alternative health gurus, Dr. Ben Kim, describes them as a cross between “sweet cherries and plums.” I’m a regular consumer of them, and so was highly intrigued by their latest incarnation, enrobed in pomegranate-flavored yogurt coating.  Yum!  After a couple of samples, I found myself dishing out $10 for one small bag.  

[The yogurt-covered variety]

We also saw (and sampled) a wide range of shakes, smoothies, greens powders, supplements, juicers, oils, all-natural soaps, and more before happening upon the Xocai healthy chocolate booth.  Now, I’m not even a fan of dark chocolate, but these nuggets contain both blueberries and acai berries for the ultimate in antioxidant benefits.  The perfect combination of decadence and desirability at the same time.  Of course, we just had to sample it.  Both flavors.  More than once.

What happened then was something that’s occurred probably thousands of times in my life: one bite of chocolate and all my previous willpower just dissolved–poof!–like that. Suddenly, I was overcome by the urge to eat every piece of chocolate, and anything else, in sight. (Unfortunately, that also included a spoonful of concentrated maca liquid, very nearly causing that chocolate to re-visit me on its way back up.) 

Shortly thereafter, we came upon yet another chocolate-touting booth and I bought not one, but two 100-gram bars.  Quite enjoyed the cappuccino one on the way home (though I did save some for C.).  Now, I feel quite confident that Michelle did not go home and do the same, considering her stable, and very slim, physique. 

By the time I arrived home, I’d eaten the other bar, too.  Reflecting on this behavior, I had somewhat of a revelation regarding my bingeing habit.  Seems I run on something very much like a binary code: my compulsion for sweets is either “on” or “off,” but there’s no in between.  (Ergo, I seem incapable of moderation in that area).  Eating that one initial piece of chocolate flicked the toggle switch to the “on” position, and I was off and running (toward chocolate). So I’m beginning to see that one of my strategies must be to simply not go therein the first place–no initial taste, so no overweening desire to eat the entire bar, cake, package, can, bag, jar, or whatever.

By dinnertime, I’d reverted to eating from the healthy side of the spectrum, a la Stacy Halprin’s advice (ie, just soldier on as if it never happened).  So I whipped up some of my very favorite vegan Mac and “Cheese” (or “Cheeze,” as the original recipe calls it) from the Fat Free Vegan’s blog (I used rice pasta, though).  Filled with the aforementioned brewer’s yeast and its cheesy goodness, miso, tahini, and a whack of delish herbs and spices, this is true comfort food that’s also incredibly nutrient-dense and good for you.  Given that I had only rice milk (albeit unflavored) in the house, I was afraid it would ruin the flavor, but it turned out just as delicious as usual. 

[Elsie polishing off the sauce, enjoying her share of B12 for the day]

And now, at least, I can feel as if I’ve eaten something that will nourish my body and help me recover from the chocolate overload today.  Not quite as bad as Tofu with Twinkies, but chocolate (and chocolate, and chocolate) with vegan mac and cheeze–still pretty contradictory.

This evening, remembering something Michelle said as we drove home (no near-fender bender that time), sparked another mini-epiphany for me.  Apparently, she used to be one of those “Type A” personalities, always rushing to fill her time as much as possible, to accomplish seventy tasks a day, running from one pre-planned event to another.  Now, having met her in her current incarnation, I can only say that imagining her behaving in that manner seems virtually impossible.

Once she started yoga, she said, she’d effortlessly lost five pounds and found that she had a new perspective, one which allowed her to relax, take things as they come, and enjoy the moments in her life.  It was a deliberate choice, she said, but now she makes a point of not letting the “little things” get to her, and trying to slow down and enjoy each day. 

I felt a little bit of squishy nostalgia for my own year at nutrition school (oh so far away, now), when I was able to focus on health in all its myriad aspects–physical, mental, emotional, spiritual.  During that time, I ate really, really well, and spent time preparing and appreciating the fantastic food I was learning about and cooking with; I took time to appreciate my dog and my honey (oops, yes, I think it was in that order, actually), enjoyed relaxing and meditating and reading and listening to music; enjoyed breathing in the sharp air in the autumn mornings, meandering walks along the trail with The Girls, an occasional glass of red with my honey over dinner–heck, I even enjoyed the plush feel of the carpet under me each morning as I struggled through my sit-ups. 

During that year, I enjoyed all the daily pleasures and even some of the more mundane tasks–all the things that were a regular part of my existence.  It really does make a difference, I realized, if you take even a few minutes to exhale away the stress and anxiety that can so easily accumulate. 

Thinking about it, I realized a paradox extends to the rest of my life, as well, not just my eating habits.  I have the credentials of a holistic practitioner (nutritionist), yet am regularly afflicted by the same pressures and unhealthy habits of so many other middle class, overworked white-collar workers.  I resolved, immediately, to meditate tonight. 

But I’d just better make it quick, because I only have ten minutes to de-stress before I have to get back to work. 

The snow here in the GTA this morning is relentless–curtains of white, ice pellets grazing your cheeks as you attempt, vainly, to walk the crunchy path to the local park to appease The Girls.  It was Chaser’s first experience with snow, and apparently (so my H.H. tells me), she loved it, bouncing and prancing and pawing at every crystallized chunk that scuttled her way along the road.  (“That stuff is awesome, Mum!  Can we go out again?  Can we? Huh? Huh?!”)

[If you look really hard, you can see snowflakes against the fence.]

On mornings like this, I wish I had a fireplace before which I could curl up and just read, my latest book club book (as-yet unchosen, since it will be my pick this time round), one of the fifty or so I have stacked up in my office, the entire newspaper, magazines, or food mags.  But, hey, wait a second!  I do have a fireplace (albeit gas–ugh), one of the nicer features of this house.  Unfortunately, it’s still surrounded by boxes and as-yet unassembled bookcases and other detritus that we haven’t found a place for yet. 

But something about the snow and the cold, as we all know, elicits a strong desire for comfort foods. As if I don’t have enough cravings for chocolate, anyway.

In order to satisfy the urge and eat something relatively healthy, I decided to mix up my favorite vegan chocolate pudding.  Now, admittedly, there are at least 7,482 such recipes floating on the Internet and in various vegan cookbooks, but I still think mine is best.  It’s an amalgam of recipes I’ve read over the years for similar puddings, from the McDougall’s original to the ubiquitous vegan chocolate mousse one finds everywhere. 

This one is ultra-rich tasting, creamy and has a certain globby texture that reminds me exactly of old-fashioned, cooked, chocolate pudding.  Only this one is made with relatively low-fat silken tofu (the kind in the aseptic boxes), cocoa powder (lower fat than actual chocolate), and agave nectar instead of any refined sugar.  Chocolate bliss, truly. 

One caveat:  my photos do not do justice to this extraordinary dessert.  (In fact, the H.H. thinks it looks sort of like poo.  “Poo?  Did you say, ‘Poo,’ Mum?  But I love to eat poo!”).  Seriously, you have to try it.  Even the highly carnivorous H.H. loves it (despite its scatological appearance).

Heavenly Chocolate Tofu Pudding

1 package (about 375 grams) aseptically-packaged extra-firm silken tofu (such as Mori-Nu)

1/2 cup dark cocoa powder (not Dutch process–dark has more flavonoids)

1/2-2/3 cup agave nectar (start with the higher amount if you’re not familiar with it)

2 tsp. pure vanilla extract (real vanilla is essential here)

Open the tofu and drain any excess liquid.  Break into large pieces in a food processor.  Process about 30 seconds to blend the tofu, scraping down sides of processor.

Measure the cocoa and agave nectar into a small pot (it’s not necessary to sift the cocoa, as any lumps will be broken down in the processor).  Heat over medium-low heat just until it begins to bubble around the edges of the pot, stirring frequently to prevent scorching.  (While this step adds work, it’s essential to prevent the cocoa from having a starchy, powdery taste).  Remove from heat and stir in the vanilla. 

Add the cocoa mixture to the processor and process until completely smooth and velvety, about 3 minutes, stopping occasionally to scrape down sides of bowl (you want to ensure that there are absolutely no little pieces of tofu visible).  The mixture will seem too thin for pudding; this is as it should be. 

Pour the mixture into one large or several small glass serving bowls and refrigerate at least four hours, preferably overnight.  It will firm up as it chills.  This would also be a great filling for a chocolate cream pie.  Store in refrigerator up to 4 days. Makes 4 normal servings, 2 servings in my house.