the joy of pickling.

Back in early January, my best friend and I supped at The Foundry in Somerville, Mass. It was one of those divine meals that you dream about months later.  Pickle-lovers from way back (her dad makes the most divine dills!), we just had to have the farmstand pickles. Oh, how we devoured them. 


Not too long ago, I was at Devil's Den with my roommate. I was going on and on about how much I love their housemade pickles- I had been at Devil's Den the day before, also raving about them- and he was gracious enough to ask the waiter for my very own dish of them. What a moment- my own little dish! 


Sensing a theme- pickles, in 2011, were bringing me an awful lot of food joy- I took on making my own pickles.


I started with reliable Deb's bread and butter pickles and her cider vinegar pickled carrots. The night I made the bread and butters, I served them with Brooklyn Bowl Fried Chicken. Four friends, sitting around the table, eating a whole jar of divine pickles-- does it get much better than that? The pickled carrots were milder, sweeter, and grew on me over time.

Next I tried Mark Bittman's dill pickles from my beloved Essential New York Times Cookbook. It took four or five days for the salt brine to go from salty to perfectly pickley. The dill is subtle, overpowered by intense buttery garlic flavor (so what if I didn't half the garlic when I halved the recipe!). They are concentrated little flavor bombs, packing powerful savory punch. The cucumbers stayed refreshingly crisp.

Needless to say, I am totally converted to home pickling. I've been doing about a pound of vegetables at a time, keeping the batches manageable and allowing us to rotate through them quickly since I haven't taken on any complex canning techniques. Pickling is the perfect break from studying. I can ready a batch in about twenty minutes. For the cost of a jar of grocery store pickles- squishy, soft, boring grocery store pickles- I can make three or four jars of homemade pickles. They would be the perfect 


So is it surprising that I am eagerly awaiting the shipment of a book called The Joy of Pickling? Hardly.

"a fusion of bread pudding, grilled cheese, and souffle'."

I haven't felt the urge to blog in weeks, but I have encountered a recipe too decadent and tempting not to share.


This past Christmas, Big Brother and Big Sister gave me a most amazing gift: The Essential New York Times Cookbook. Written by Amanda Hesser, author of the Grey Lady's beloved "Recipe Redux" column, It appeals to my many sensibilities.  For the historian, it is brimming with timelines and each chapter is chronologically organized.  For the writer, Hesser highlights changes in the ingredients, method, and fashion of American cuisine with engaging commentary and first-person anecdotes, such as my favorite quip, "With Humboldt Fog and Garratxa cheese now at our fingertips, it's hard to remember why we were all once so smitten with Brie." (285) For the foodie, there is a nice blend of recipes to challenge and conquer with those that magnify the importance of simplicity and quality (for Carmelized Bacon: "Go to a butcher and spend as much money as you have on very good bacon" (93)).  There are recipes from the finest American chefs, from the Times' adored minimalist Mark Bittman to the revered Alice Waters (with tons of vintage food columnists and notables in between).  And there is a delicious, but not overwhelming, bit of pretense.  This is not just a cookbook full of recipes; it is a cookbook to be read.


My family graciously tolerated my reading of the cookbook out loud.  One result of this exercise was my encounter with the recipe for Soupe A' L'Oignon Gratine'e (120).  Christmas was weeks ago, and indeed, I have been waiting, waiting, WAITING to get home for long enough to make this recipe.  After reading Hesser's commentary that it was "almost too strange and too delicious to describe: imagine a fusion of bread pudding, grilled cheese, and souffle'" I couldn't not make this dish.


The project consumed my afternoon-- at Hesser's recommendation that "it's worth tracking down Emmental cheese and a decent baguette" and to serve with red wine, I took to the Reading Terminal Market. I spent quite a while grating cheese and spilling tears over chopped onions.  I tempered the time commitment with cookies from Termini Brothers Bakery. I have no regrets.


Soupe A' L'Oignon Gratine'e
adapted from The Essential New York Times Cookbook


1 baguette, cut into 1/2 inch slices (25-30) (I got mine at Le Bus, it was divine)
9 tbsp unsalted butter, softened
9 oz Emmental cheese, finely grated (I used 12 because it's who I am) (about 2 1/4 cups) (I got my French Emmental cheese from Downtown Cheese)
8 medium yellow onions, thinly slices (about 12 cups)
1 tbsp kosher salt, plus more to taste
1 cup tomato puree (I bought the fresh pack brand Cento from New Jersey- so yummy that it can be eaten with a spoon right out of the can) (not that I did that)
6 cups water 

1. Toast the baguette slices and let them cool. Spread a generous layer of butter on each slice (you will need about 5 tablespoons), then lay the slices close together on a baking sheet and top with all but 1/2 cup of the cheese.

2. Melt the remaining butter in a large saucepan over medium heat. Add the onions, season with salt to taste, and saute', stirring occasionally, until very soft and golden, about 15 minutes. Revolve from the heat. (don't be a spaz like me and add the tablespoon of salt in this step- oops. I have a notoriously high salt tolerance and it was almost a little much)

3. Arrange a layer of bread slices butter side up (about 1/3 of them) in a 5 quart casserole (I wish I had buttered our Le Creuset-ish pan first). Spread one-third of the onions on top, followed by one-third of the tomato puree. Repeat for 3 more layers. Sprinkle with the remaining 1/2 cup cheese. (To prevent boiling over, the casserole must not be more than two-thirds full) (I squished mine down a bit)

4. Bring the water to a boil in a medium saucepan and add 1 tablespoon salt. Very slowly por the salted water into the casserole, near the edge, so that the liquid rises just to the top layer of cheese without covering it. (Depending on the size of your casserole, you may need more or less water) (I used around 4.5 cups and wished for a little more liquid when I ate it).


5. Put the casserole on the stove, bring to a simmer ON LOW HEAT  and simmer uncovered for 30 minutes (I for some reason kicked up the jam to medium-high heat and burned the bottom. Fortunately it didn't matter too much for me- I was lucky that the bread bottoms were very darkly carmelized but not smoky burnt when I realized my mistake). 


6. Heat the oven to 350 degrees. Transfer the pot to the oven and bake uncovered for about 1 hour. 'The soup is ready when the surface looks like a crusty, golden cake, and the inside is unctuous and so well blended that it is impossible to discern either cheese or onions' (Ali-Bab). Serve each person some of the baked crust and some of the inside, which should de thick but not completley without liquid.

It's ugly but I promise it's totally good.


And don't forget to serve it with wine.

we wondered if martha came up with the recipe in prison.

I interrupt this blog's regularly scheduled programming of Heavy Stuff and Bike Concerns to talk to you about an issue of great importance, an issue that touches us all.


I am here to talk to you today about pancake recipes.


Every semester brings with it different cravings. There was the semester I lived on ice cream, and who can forget last fall, when all I ate was arugula? It occurred to me recently that this semester has been a pancake semester. Unknowingly, I've been trying to make the perfect pancake, and I think I've actually done it.


Effort 1- Sour Cream Pancakes
these are good, but they are mostly sour cream. I have nothing against eating straight sour cream, but you don't really need all the effort of pancakes to do that.


Effort 2- Traditional Pancakes
these are what you make when you have a very limited range of ingredients on hand. dense. much too dense. you don't eat these pancakes- they eat you. put some jam on it as you head out into the mean streets, so heavy it would double as a weapon.


Effort 3- Buttermilk Pancakes
these are IT. post-Thanksgiving we had a lot of leftover buttermilk (thank you, ranch mashed potatoes). lacey and light, they are so perfect and dreamy. comfort food to the max, best drenched in warm Pennsylvania maple syrup.

We now return to our regularly scheduled programming. Up next: further embracing of life's magic and mysteries, Wald rear basket installation, and probably a youtube video. Maybe in reverse order.

it's ok if you cook the sandwich in bacon grease.

I was inspired recently by this post on Big Girls, Small Kitchen about grilled cheese and mushroom melts. I have been playing around with variations on the theme this week. I brought in elements from a favorite salad at Prohibition Bar-- namely frisee, which goes lovely with mushrooms, and of course, bacon. This is a fall sandwich of no regrets. You're burning off extra calories just by staying warm, so I promise there's no harm.

Cook bacon.

Take come of your bacon grease and saute' mushrooms in it, with a bit of garlic.

Place sliced havarti on wheat bread, and pile all elements together. 

Cook sandwich in bacon grease.

Top sandwich with frisee.

Eat with fork and knife.

individual portions.

I love cooking for myself. 


It's not that I don't mind cooking for others. I belong to a group of food-loving foodies who celebrate food, and we cook for each other often, celebrating the strengths of that potato salad and reveling in the fact that one pound of butter really went into that pound cake. Hauling side dishes on the back of my bike brings me great joy. Talking with people about food is a daily occurrence. So much of my food life is social.


But cooking for myself, that I really love.  In an empty house, with the tunes turned up. Nobody will know the excesses of butter and salt. With my mind clear I futz with the temperature, add a little more flour. In the calm of my head I make important decisions about how I will unthaw the spinach. My family and friends are all around me, in gifted butter dishes and mixers and rubber spatulas. Individual portions fill me with intense and quiet satisfaction. In solitude I worship at the feet of proteins, fats, and carbs.


My therapist recently labelled this kind of activity "deliberate self care." I know that this kind of recreation is important for my well-being. I know that the times and seasons of my life may someday make this pursuit a rare event. But for now, in the moment, beyond all the present meaning and possibilities of the future, I delight in cooking for one.

subletter salad.

My roommate went away to do research for the summer.  This has opened up a great culinary hole in my life, as there was nobody in my home doing interesting things with harissa or to share my delight in the creation of a stunning dessert tour de force.  His room was let to a sweet couple of visiting researchers.  They were the perfect room renters—gracious and tidy and quiet.  They really won me over when they shared this salad with me during a week that we had five days of 90 degree weather. As we have another week of that ahead, I think you'll find this salad it just the ticket.

I love it because you could serve it alone or over leafy greens, plain or dressed in a balsamic vinaigrette.  On more than one occasion, I've mixed it in with my standard caprese. This salad is fresh and light and even has a little bit of protein- completely perfect for days when it’s too hot for eating.

Subletter salad

Cucumber

Canned butter beans

Artichoke hearts

Corn (best cut off the cobb)

Red bell pepper

Craisins

summer lifestyle lessons from england, part 2.

Since all of the lessons from my last post involved going out, today's will involve staying in.  The nice part about vsiting people, especially when they are generous and gracious enough to let you stay for a long period of time, is that you can to try their routines on for size. Dearest Mommy and Don have picked up some nice habits on their expat journey that I think are examples of quality living.

4. If you're going to stay in for the evening, you should probably have something nice to drink.

After a long day of touring, or writing papers to finish incomplete classes so you can get your Masters degree, there is nothing more refreshing than a fancy drink.  Moscow Mules were a house favorite last summer.  Or how about a Dark 'n' Stormy made with Cuban Rum? (if only!)  Strawberry beer, sweet German wines, and of course classic Gin and Tonics all provide maximum summer refreshment.

If you want to go all out, have a Pimms! You can have your drink and eat it too.

5. Now you'll need something to eat. 


British cuisine is pretty straightforward. Grab some fish and chips. Snag some apple sausages from Trader Joe's (or, Philadelphians, get to Gracie Tavern stat).  I'm a big fan of the ploughman's lunch- typically bread, cheese, and pickle.

I made a modified ploughman's lunch recently with crackers (read: I've been eating them almost every day).  Apricot stilton is my life.  You should top off your meal with a nice dessert- maybe some molten chocolate cakes if you want to replicate the suffering from every episode of the BBC cooking show Master Chef (the major plot thread was that nobody could make a chocolate soufflé. But you can!)

6. Now, what to watch?  
A little googling and you can watch episodes of the working-class soap Eastenders and the medical drama Casualty 1909 (I am so behind on Eastenders it's not even funny!)  

Holkham Hall

If you're looking for movies that feature houses we visited, you can see Burghley House in the new Pride and Prejudice and Holkham Hall in The Duchess (the house outshines Kiera Knightly).

Of course, if you want to come over, we can just crank up the streaming of Star 107 Cambridge / Ely and watch my iPhoto slideshow (ha! I do that like, every day ;) ).

summer lifestyle lessons from england, part 1.

Last summer I went to visit my mom, stepdad, and pup siblings in England.  It was the trip of a lifetime- seven weeks in the English countryside with some very wonderful company.  We went to National Trust houses and beer festivals.  I presented at my first conference in Cambridge.  No piece of antique furniture could escape our loving gaze.  Sunday roasties and the pleasures of tea-time (clotted cream, where art thou?!)... lovely lunches and riverside walks... beautiful churches and lingering trips to Marks and Spencer (to emerge with canned cocktails for public consumption)...  Eastenders and the joys of the BBC... really, it as the most wonderful trip. (a handful of related blog posts here)


I've been thinking of the trip often lately.  As it stands, I am grounded in Philly for the summer; at present, I am beginning to gather materials and start reading in preparation for my comprehensive exams (one must have an occupation).  There have been summers in my life that escaped my memory (Summer 2008, I'm looking at you) so I've decided to apply some of the lessons of pleasured living from last summer to this one.  Realizing that there are so many lovely points to highlight, this is the first in a series of posts.  So what if I can't live in the now.


1.  Find somewhere nice to visit with friends.

Caerphilly Castle

Last summer I went on an excursion to Wales with a friend after hanging out at his place in Cambridge.  This summer I'm planning on making a couple of trips to Boston and New York with my buddies.  If it's close, you should go.  Grab some honey ale and some stilton and crackers lest you get lost and need to picnic.

2. Don't forget to visit the beach.

                                   

Hunstanton Cliffs

This is very important for health and well-being. This summer I'm bound for the Jersey Shore, and you can bet your sweet pippy when I get back to Washington, there will be some beach time as well.

3. Beer festivals are a top priority.

                                      

Three different kinds of cider at a beer festival we happened upon unexpectedly.

The Campaign for Real Ale has done much to promote and preserve English beer culture.  We took great pleasure in selecting a range of delicious local brews from an overwhelming number of casks at CAMRA festivals.  It expanded my palette and was just so dang pleasant.  This summer, I'm looking forward to Philly Beer Week. June 4-13  is going to be a very glorious time.  I've already got the June 9th Real Ale event at Johnny Brenda's scribbled onto my calendar.

(excuse the wonky formatting... ahem, Blogger...)

helpful tips: hauling a macaroni and cheese.

Summer is here! I'm braindead. But done with the first year of my PhD! (please start chanting, "Four more years! Four more years!") I needed a blog post just to help me get my act together for a recent barbeque-- one so special that I made some crack and cheese.  Planning on how to haul it by bike- with a potato salad, no less- was probably the most intellectually stimulating thing I'd done since I turned in my last paper four days before.  I say it was intellectually stimulating because I couldn't suppress the image of my beloved stoneware 9x13 pan careening through the street, sending a shattering exploding blast of golden fatty deliciousness into traffic.


So! For my own sake, I present some helpful tips on how to successfully haul a macaroni and cheese to a barbeque by bike.  I recommend you try it because, well, you want people to like you, don't you?

First you will need to gather your tools.  Here we have the usual suspects- 

a basket 

a free Filene's Basement reuseable tote- first for preserving your potato salad en route, this will come in handy when you decide you need to take yourself and your dirty pans into the Grace Tavern on the way home.

helmet

 a light- because you know you and your posse are going to overstay your welcome.

But wait! That's not everything!

You will also need: 

a bungee cord- for locking that shit down

some bangin' sunglasses-because hello! you are hauling a macaroni and cheese!! own your awesomeness.

Benefit Dr. Feelgood- honey, it's muggier than a swamp. Just bathe yourself in that biz before you leave.  

Sassy Wedges- do you even have to ask why? come on! you are owning it!! (and they will also make liftoff at stoplights easier when you are hauling a zillion pounds of cheesy density)

Ok. Now you will need some food to haul.

Like one sexysexysexy macaroni and cheese.  I topped mine with foil so it stayed warm.

Some light and glorious red potato salad with a barrier to keep potato salad lovin' critters out.

Here is the first most important part- make multiple trips. I took my bike downstairs while the mac was baking.  Then I took down all my gear, then the mac.  Again, we are trying to avoid disaster here.

Behold! Our secret weapon!! I tossed my pan into a roasting pan with handles.  It fit perfectly on the rack between my saddle and the bag prop on the rack.  The unsung hero of this whole experience, the bag prop kept everything secure when I forgot my bungee at the barbeque. The bungee was nice, but not having it was no big deal either.

Don't judge my missing skirt guard, ok? It went rogue on me a couple weeks ago and now there's just no getting that thing off of Fox News.

(because that's where rogues go, natch.)

As you see, the Old Dutch Treat is a natural macaroni and cheese (and potato salad!) hauling machine.  It was a slow ride to the barbeque, but I was hailed as a hero so it was like, no big deal. 

Here's to hauling many more beautiful sides this summer!

crack and cheese.

A while ago, things got pretty rough.  I decided what my friends and I needed was some good ole comfort food.

I did my homework and found that the recipe of recipes is

Martha Stewart's Macaroni and Cheese.

It made us all feel better.  

Word got around that this mac and cheese is to die for, and unsurprisingly, it was requested for a barbeque tomorrow.  Do you think I had to be asked twice?  

Since I was making in advance (there is potato salad to make, after all), I skimmed a little off the top and baked a single portion in a ramekin.  You see that little lacy bit of dribbled cheese on the side? Heaven on earth.

vodka vs. vinegar: pie crust battle a draw.

Last night when we were cutting into a the chocolate pudding pie I made, my roommate admitted he is solidly "Team Pie." Now I had always considered myself very much "Team Cake" but... I said, in complete seriousness, "Pie is a more satisfying creative outlet for me at this point in my life."  (aren't you glad I'm not saying that about, oh, liquor? heroin?)  It's cheesy but true.  Conquering pie crust and the limitless number of possible fillings is starting to look like a mildly consuming spring semester project that nobody will complain about supporting, ever.


Last night I made The Pioneer Woman's Pie Crust and Smitten Kitchen's Chocolate Pudding Pie.  PW's pie crust has a lot going for it: shortening and white vinegar are MUCH cheaper than butter and vodka.  The outcome was basically as good as she talked it up to be-- this is the flaky-ist crust I have ever made.  It just kind of dissolves in your mouth with its amazing texture.  For a pudding pie, that really works and honestly, I cannot stop eating this pie.  Seriously, get on it!  You need some homemade pudding in your life.  But anyways, the crust.  I was rushing it a bit and it still came out really flaky and amazing, so that's a win.  It also comes out of the pan with zero fight.  I have no recollection of ever having that experience with a crust I've made.

The problem with the vinegar/shortening pie crust recipe is that it has very little flavor.  For a fruit pie, I think I would definitely like something more buttery.  I think I may have to bite the bullet and make an all-butter crust in spite of the love I feel for the Cook's Illustrated vodka/shortening/butter version.  I thought this would be an either/or contest, but now I'm feeling like different pie crust recipes might suit different moods and I'm ok with that.  

now we're cooking with vodka.

I know it's time to blog when I feel the temptation to start blowing up my Twitter feed with statements like "This pie crust is a revelation, why have I never tried this recipe?" and "Every bite of this pie crust convinces me that I'm a good person, and also, a genius," and of course, "Why don't I make apple pie more often so I can have apple pie for breakfast more often?"  


That's where I'm at right now.


I hadn't been too happy with the outcome of my last pie crust-- everybody said it was good, but I was aware-- perhaps there's some latent Mormonness at work here-- that it wasn't living up to its eternal potential.  So since everybody always talks about the vodka pie crust recipe, and I actually had vodka in my freezer for once (it was fun while it lasted), I tracked down the recipe (who knew vodka was the key to anyone's eternal potential?).  With that effort came, unexpectedly, some very useful method tips (I know, as if a Cook's Illustrated recipe requires more method tips).  

The results were pretty good.  I still feel like it needs something- maybe some brown sugar in the goo, a touch of almond flavoring in the crust, some sliced almonds on the top crust, apples with actual flavor- but really, this is probably the best all around pie I've ever made.  You can find the filling recipe here, the pie crust recipe here, and a hefty dose of pie crust learnin' right here.  

If you actually let the pie rest like you're supposed to, you won't get pie soup, but around here we like our pie piping hot at 11pm served with a side of fresh whipped cream.  But just look at how light and flaky that crust is!  Wowsers.  My cup of baking vanity runneth over. 

chocolate truffle tart recipe.

I bake pretty regularly, but I can't say that I try out new recipes all that often.  Part of it is pragmatic- fancy desserts aren't as portable or long lasting as say, cookies- and the other part of it is the fear factor.  I get so nervous-  baking failures are just so public.  As a result, my baking vanity is largely tied to my ability to produce endless batches of sugar cookies, chocolate chip cookies, brownies, beer bread, Hershey's Perfectly Chocolate Cake, etc. etc. Nobody seems to mind.

This all changed the other night [drama!], when my roommate presented me with a major challenge- to produce something "French and decadent" that would compliment his Duck Casseulet.  I didn't know what exactly that was, but I was pretty sure I'd stumbled upon recipe gold while searching through one of my favorite food p*rn sites.

Using the Chocolate Truffle Tart recipe from the food blog Tartelette, I had one of the most pleasant baking experiences that I've had in a long time.  Maybe it was spending a quiet, lazy, unrushed, rainy Sunday morning in a clean kitchen- something I find infinitely sublime- but it had a lot to do the quality of the recipe. It calls for relatively few ingredients and offers some really useful method directions.  I have long been a hater of rolling out crusts, but this recipe had me transferring pie crust into the pan with zero cracks and no falling apart. I might have almost cried, crust has been that much of a burden to me.

I was scared of using unsalted butter and could only find unsweetened chocolate, but consensus was that the dessert was not too sweet, and sufficiently French and decadent.  It received rave reviews (and totally cleaned plates) from our dinner guests, and pairs nicely with red wine or coffee.

Chocolate Truffle Tarts [adapted from Tartellete according to how I made the recipe- which is not necessarily the most efficient way]

makes 1 mega tart- could probably serve twelve or more- perfect for crowds who just want a little sliver of dessert

For the chocolate crust: 
1 stick unsalted butter, at room temperature
1/2 cup  unsifted powdered sugar
3 egg yolks
pinch of salt
1 1/4 cup flour
1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder

For the chocolate truffle filling:
8 ounces bittersweet chocolate [or unsweetened chocolate + 1/2 cup of sugar]
12 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature
1/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup strong brewed coffee
4 large eggs

For the chocolate ganache:
4 ounces bittersweet chocolate [or unsweetened chocolate + 1/4 cup sugar]
1/3 cup heavy whipping cream
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature
pinch of salt

Prepare the crust:
In a mixer, whip together the butter and sugar together until light and fluffy. Add the egg yolks and pinch of salt and mix until incorporated. Add the flour and cocoa powder and mix briefly. Dump the whole mixture onto a lightly floured board and gather the dough into a smooth ball. Do not work the dough while in the mixer or it will toughen it up. Flatten the dough into a disk, wrap it in plastic wrap and refrigerate for an hour.
Preheat oven to 350F and position a rack in the center. Butter a springform pan [parchment would be a good idea here] and set aside.

When the dough is nice and cold, roll it out on a lightly floured board or in between two sheets of plastic [rolling the dough out underneath a sheet of cling film was a revolutionary concept for me]. If the dough tears while you roll or/and transfer into the rings, just patch it with your fingertips. Bake for 10 minutes. Keep the oven at 350F.

[I did these steps while my dough was chilling]:

Prepare the filling:
Place the chocolate in a medium bowl and set aside. In a medium saucepan set over medium heat, bring the butter, sugar, and coffee together to a boil over medium. Pour the mixture over the chocolate and leave it undisturbed for 2-3 minutes. Gently whisk until smooth [by hand is much better than mixer for these steps, believe me, Kitchen Aid addicts, I tried both]. Add the eggs, one at a time whisking quickly until the mixture is smooth. Pour on top of crust and bake for 10 minutes. It will look a little jiggly when you take it out, but it will set in the fridge later.
Let cool completely.

Prepare the chocolate ganache:
Place the chocolate in a medium bowl and set aside. In a medium saucepan set over medium heat, bring the heavy cream to a gentle boil. Pour it over the chocolate and let sit for 2-3 minutes. Whisk until smooth and incorporate the butter at the same time until the ganache is completely smooth. Resist temptation to store in refrigerator if you are waiting for your dough or the tart to bake.  

Left with about twenty extra minutes of dough chill time after preparing the truffle and ganache, I recommend mixing up the egg whites with some of the leftover heavy cream, scrambling them, and serving them with some of the leftover coffee you made.  Coffee with supplimentary heavy cream, that is.  COTGB is all about full fat dairy.

Spread ganache on top of tart and smooth out with an offset spatula. Refrigerate until ready to eat- be forewarned, it gets pretty solid in the fridge so you may want a substantial warm knife to help with the cutting.  We served ours with vanilla flavored unsweetened homemade whipped cream.  Delish.

slow and steady wins the race.

In conversations about the health benefits of moving to Philadelphia and bike commuting, I typically use the "fat summer" of 2008 as a point of reference.  I had moved to Utah, lost ten pounds from the stress, bought a bike, gained all the weight back, and then set upon a rather solitary, sedentary summer that included a lot of air-conditioned hours spent watching movies while consuming a steady intake of drinks, Pringles, Cheeze-Nips, Oreos, and the like.  It was a lonely time that was met with poor food choices. We've all been there.  There are basically no pictures of me from that time because I took special care to delete them along the way.  I had no energy, wore loose sundresses because my pants didn't fit, and was pretty squishy.  I didn't have a waist.  We don't have to talk exact numbers here, other than that I had a BMI of ~27- right in the middle of the overweight category.






Fast forward fifteen months.  There were some slow and steady changes made over time.  I started with not buying junk and drinking less.  I lost about 12 pounds doing that.  I moved to a city with a Trader Joe's where I do most of my shopping, making sure to toss a bag of spinach in with my groceries and skipping out on the treats (I bought sweets at TJ's for the first time in Philly this week... seriously).  The last 8 pounds came off as I embarked on a car-free lifestyle.*  This was unintentional.**  I should round out Fall Semester with 500 miles under my belt.  


I've mentioned the changes in posts along the way, but today was a big milestone.  I've lost 20 pounds since the "fat summer." My BMI is 23- right in the midst of the normal weight range.  I am decidedly less doughy. I've lost about four inches off my waist and now have an extensive collection of pants that are much too large.  Double chins in photographs are seldom a problem.  I weigh less than I did my senior year of high school in 2002 and any time since.


I'm not trying to brag-- but I really, truly believe in the power of lifestyle change.  There are lots of reasons to consider getting on a bike, and weight loss is a legitimate one.  Most days I ride between 2 and 6 miles, with the occasional 10 or 12 mile day.  So there you have it-- you don't have to run a marathon to see results!






*My comments about nutrition should be qualified to note, in earnest, that I consume lager and fried bar food with greater frequency nowadays.  That's slowed my weight loss but nonetheless, since selling my car, I have steadily lost weight without any gaining back. Eating everything I can- including glorious full fat dairy- has not stemmed the tide of weight loss.  So there's some logic there.


**No, really. My poor roommate can attest to the endless whining about being hungry all the time and how none of my clothes fit- and I couldn't even buy Gap Jeans any more because even the smaller sizes are cut too wide (I recommend J. Crew for bike-altered bodies) .  It was a very rough time for him. 

because it's snowing, i should be riding my bike.

Most things I do fall into two categories.  There are the things that I do that are a good idea, like eating a balanced diet, and things that I do because I can, like supplementing that diet with lager and whatever kind of bar food can be rustled up (lately: perogies from my beloved Oscar's and beer battered green beans from Prohibition).  The two categories aren't mutually exclusive (selling my car) and things can even migrate from one category to another (moving to Philly without a job).  

I tell you all this because today I rode my bike to the store in the snow. I did it just because I could. I am not quite sure if it was a good idea or not. 

I went back and forth on it all day- I was down to basically zero food, but the weather was crappy.  A girl has to eat, but I was making good progress on one of my papers. (approximately 6,000 words to go!).  Finally daylight was starting to dim, and it occurs to me that if it freezes there will be zero food tomorrow.  So I bundled up a little more than I do for just rain and headed out into the mess wearing all this:

On my feet- a pair of soccer socks, with a pair of wool socks over them, with a pair of rubber boots.

On my legs- (thermals tragically MIA) yoga pants, rain pants.

On my torso- shirt, North Face puffy coat (I like to sweat), rain jacket.

On my hands- water & wind resistant gloves

On my neck- a scarf that got very wet.

On my head- crocheted beanie and Nutcase helmet, sans pads.

So this was no small effort, but I'm thinking, riding in the snow? I've done this like a million times.  And I get outside, and it's kind of crappy.  And I get on my bike, and I'm like WHAT ARE THESE DAGGERS STABBING MY EYES?

Utah people, allow me to delude myself here, but the snow in Utah is as fluffy and dry as marshmallows, and getting hit in the eye by a flake is akin to, I don't know, an angel's wing brushing against your eyelashes.  When I saw the big flakes out my window, I was thinking of that. Not being stabbed in the eyeball.  I think it might've been sleeting, but that was really unpleasant.  It was also unpleasant that the only people doing dangerous shit on the road were from New Jersey.  If there's any prejudice I've learned to cultivate while living in Philadelphia, it's that people from New Jersey are the worst (try going to a decent bar on a Friday or Saturday... ugh). This did not help their case.

I interrupt this blog post for a Church of the Granny Bike Public Service Announcement:

If it's snowing, stay the hell out of my city, New Jerseyians!

Those people crossed the line.

proof that I went (after 11,000 pictures my camera struggles a little in bad weather)

Anyways, the grocery getting part wasn't so bad, because I inadvertently stumbled upon The Secret to managing Trader Joe's on a Saturday.  It's called "Forget To Turn Your Blinkee Light Off." No wonder people gave me so much space!  I am going to do that every time I go from now on.

I made it home intact, basically dry, but not really filled with the joy that I usually feel after grocery getting by bike.  A balaclava and some goggles probably would've made it better, but the visibility was a bitch.  While fortunately I'm off of grocery duty here for the next couple of weeks, I may have to get on board with public transportation for my shopping when it gets to be high winter.

really... poor strange little camera!

The up side to all of this is now that I have plenty of food to get me through whatever further inclement weather comes, and that food stash includes Candy Cane Joe Joes, one of the best foods of all time! In fact, now that I'm having a cookie, I think I will never question the value of riding in the snow again.