Just as I began my search in earnest for my love of all things food, my father is diagnosed with colon cancer. It was a devastating blow to all of us. There is the worry and concern for my father, and then the worry and resentment my mother is in no way able to take care of him. There was one day of complete worry about the future for him or if there would be one. Then he saw his surgeon and hope sprang eternal when he was informed he would have a less invasive surgery and basically resume a normal life.
My sister and I sat at the table with our parents, and we both pleaded the case for healthier eating. My father is the type to eat a dinner, a second helping then a bologna sandwich an hour later. Their cupboards are stocked with chips, sweet treats and enough carbs to fuel the Boston Marathon. Their freezer is overflowing with frozen food and ice cream. My sister and I insisted he needed to change his diet not only for this latest health set back, but also because of his twenty year battle with heart disease.
The first thing my mother did is angrily insist his diet does not need to change. Our relationship now is cold and distant, there is resentment and anger simmering between us like a volatile moltov cocktail waiting to explode at any moment. There have been several times I’ve pleaded with my mother to not bring boxes of Ho Ho’s and Twinkies into the house. She insists my father should have more willpower and be able to not eat the things he shouldn’t.
When I first returned to Kentucky, I began cooking healthy foods for my father. We attempted a strict heart healthy diet in hopes of helping him lose pounds quickly after yet another heart stint was necessary. My mother doubled her efforts to bring home his favorite fatty foods and by the time I moved out, the diet was long forgotten and he had returned to enjoying fried foods with mom again. My mother also refuses to smoke outside despite begin informed by a Cardiologist she should for my father’s health.
So, I thought about food again but this time as a way to nourish and heal the body. I’m making double steel cut oatmeal this morning and I wish I could convince my father how it’s not only healthy, but delicious. I believe the biggest obstacle to my father changing his eating habits, is indeed my mother. She likes the attention on her and her illnesses. Yesterday, when we sat at the table, she began crying and everyone there completely ignored her. Within seconds, her tears were dried and she stomped off to another room. My father’s health has now become the focus of our attention and she does not like it.
I’m now not thinking about my love of food, but what it does for my body. When I eat healthy, I feel healthy. With the gene pool I’ve been cursed with, it’s more important than ever that I am mindful of what I do put in my body. It’s not enough I’ve given up meat and maintain a vegetarian lifestyle. I’ve given up coffee and have replaced my tea with decaf. I’m insisting my daughter make healthier choices. Who knows maybe by example I can convince my father to replace his ice cream with Greek yogurt.
So, the age old answer to what do I really want to eat is bread, brie and that’s pretty much it. I ate French bread for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Oh, I did manage some vegetables and a broccoli soup in there.
But the most important thing here, and what I’m striving for, is learning to love food again. I really, really love French bread apparently. I’d probably even marry it, but first let’s get to those gays.
I’m too tired to wax poetic about anything but bread. Tomorrow is pitch in!
This morning I woke up craving an egg mcmuffin without any meat. I’m not known for getting these, but for some reason it sounded so good. Keeping with my vow not to go through drive thrus, I decided to make my own. So, one fried egg, a mini bagel smeared with butter and half a piece of american cheese, and it was, dare I say, better than anything I could have gotten in the car. I still have two light cappuccinos in my fridge, so I drank one today. A delicious hazelnut. Sometimes I really miss Starbucks.
It was pouring rain today and I was treated to a lightning storm out the window across from my desk. I stayed in for lunch, having brought mine and ate butternut squash tossed with greens and a salad. Again though, I cheated and had a Diet Mountain Dew. I’m blaming my soda consumption on my pure exhaustion. I haven’t been sleeping that well, woken up by the dog for middle of the night bush waterings and my own tossing and turning. I think I’ve been going to bed too early, so I’m trying to stay up until Midnight tonight. There has to be that perfect sleep number somewhere.
The farmer’s market was closed on my way home, so I went to the local grocery and settled on a loaf of French bread, with inferior brie and one of those steam in the bags of baby vegetables. Okay, so this isn’t very impressive and definitely not exactly what I had in mind. I have to find triple cream brie somewhere. The nearest gourmet food store is 40 minutes away, so I need to take a field trip this weekend.
Gearing up for Friday’s pitch-in. It’s a potluck at work where everyone brings a dish or two. I’m bringing a vegetable tray and salsa dip. The last two times I’ve made this intensely rich and decadent banana pudding. It just didn’t appeal to me this time.
So I need to widen my shopping range, really ask myself what I want and definitely go to Qdoba sometime this week. The mango salad looks delicious and now I want one. I also have to make it to the Mayan cafe and for freak’s sake, I’ve got to take more pictures.
Until tomorrow…have fun eating.
So I woke up feeling fruity so I made a smoothie with almond mild (so yummy) and frozen strawberries and mango. This time I didn’t include my usual two packets of Splenda. I had my usual coffee sans cream. For lunch, I had a salad with sunflower seeds and feta cheese. Dinner was leftover butternut squash and greens.
Let’s be honest. Nothing exciting about today’s food. But the smoothie was delicious and the salad was filling. Dinner was more of a throw together because I was exhausted by the time I got home. I really wanted a piece of caramel, but of course I want a piece of salted caramel, so decadent and delicious a Werther’s will not do.
I’m feuding with my parents again. It’s a culmination of all these years with a dash of how they treat my daughter sprinkled on top. But exploring food, brings me home again. It was always food that brought us together as a family, that was a catalyst for a visit or celebration. It was food my mother taught me was a balm for the blues. Having traveled and explored, I learned to differentiate between good food and mediocre. There really is no going back. Not with food, not with my family.
So I’ll look for that salted caramel this week and try to be a little more adventurous.
This morning I asked myself what I really wanted for breakfast. Instead of a cereal, I made hash browns with red pepper flakes, lots of pepper and one perfect over easy egg. Then I chopped it all up and ate slowly while I enjoyed an orange flavored coffee. It’s easy to cook on the weekends, but much harder during the week when I’m rushing out the door.
For lunch, I made a proper English cucumber sandwich with the crusts cut off fluffy white bread. I smeared the bread with horseradish sauce then layered on fresh cucumber. A side of salad with balsamic vinegar and olive oil to dress it. I sprinkled on feta cheese and sunflower seeds and it was delicious. I then ate a bowl of fresh cut cantaloupe. It was delicious and I was reminded I have not had it in a long time. I remember reading somewhere you should only eat fruit before lunch and I’m wondering how true that statement is.
Dinner was our now traditional Sunday dinner. I made a butternut squash and collard green stir fry and fresh ears of corn. For dessert we sat outside in the heat and ate dripping organic blueberry popsicles.
It’s easier to eat like this on the weekend. I wonder how I’m going to fare during the week.