One of those mornings when I wake up at 2 a.m. Happens quite often actually, so that for me, breakfast time is just a little after midnight. Lovely =P
Lo and behold my disappointment when, while in the process of making my "breakfast bread pudding," I discovered that I had allowed my sprouted wheat cinnamon-raisin bagels to go for too long...I threw out all of them except the very last, which didn't look as if the gross stuff had gotten to it yet. When I go stale, I really go stale, don't I?
Anyway, here's the recipe for my "ghetto-fab" bread pudding, cooked in the microwave: I break apart the bagel into pieces, then pour over it a whole shitload of orange-flower honey (that's all I have, I don't even have sugar at home!). In a separate bowl, I mix an egg and light vanilla soy milk (eyeballed, a la Rachael Ray), add a pinch of salt, and a sprinkling of cinnamon. I pour the "custard" over the bread, press down, and let sit for about 5 minutes. The whole thing is microwaved for about 6 minutes. How more ghetto can you get?? The first time I made this concoction was yesterday, after craving bread pudding, and it wasn't too bad. But now I have no more bagels =(
Even after this indulgence, I was still feeling empty, so I made myself an omelet with the three remaining eggs, eaten with a squirt of spicy red pepper sauce on the side. I'm hoping this HUMONGOUS breakfast will hold me over all day, as I plan to spend it at school studying for the evil exams coming up...stress makes me forever hungry! I'm afraid of letting go just a little bit though, because I don't think I'll be able to stop myself from falling back into the habit of overdoing. I'm going to let myself get a grande skinny cinnamon dolce latte from Starbucks today, and I'm hoping to get home too late for dinner (I'm sorry, this is horrible, I know). The truth of the matter is, I'm still working on my disordered eating. It has failed to leave me alone completely, and it's still a struggle I have to face. Bear with me please.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Stale Bread = Love
This is a love letter to bread pudding.
Random gluttony isn't what's motivating me in writing this, however. For me, bread pudding represents something much more important and satisfying: my mom.
My mom and I have always been very close. Almost insanely so. Of course, I don't tell her absolutely everything, and I know that there are things she won't understand about me. But I know that, even if I were to bone up and share every little thing about me, she would continue to accept me for who I am and love me as her own.
So where does bread pudding come in? My mom came to visit me for a few weeks (she lives on the other side of the country boo), and we decided to just take the car and drive south, along the coastline. We love to do that: no set itinerary, with just a list of a couple coffee shops we might hit up if we happen to pass by. This time, we took a pit stop at this local coffee shop in a small beach town, and while I concentrated on the drink menu (cappuccino? mocha? chai?), she suggested we order something to eat as well. My evil twin immediately repulsed at the idea - those lovely pastries in the glass case were mere facades for what they really symbolized: my weakness. And I could not give in. I've learned over the years to tame the voice that, just a few months ago even would have blurted forth with a resounding "No." I didn't say anything. But soon enough, I gave in. The bread pudding with our coffee please. Thank you.
I've never told my mom the extent of my disordered eating. Of course she's seen the external manifestations - my whittling down. She's seen me struggle with food at the dinner table. She may even be aware of my bingeing. (She's a mom - she has that censor, no?) To be able to sit there and share that luscious, massive hunk of honey-sweet bread pudding, studded with chocolate chips...I didn't think about how it would go to my hips, my thighs, my arms. Rather, I realized how happy I was to be sitting in that random coffee shop, my latte in front of me, cafe au lait in front of her. The glorious bread pudding in between us. Sharing a newspaper, and me...happy.
Random gluttony isn't what's motivating me in writing this, however. For me, bread pudding represents something much more important and satisfying: my mom.
My mom and I have always been very close. Almost insanely so. Of course, I don't tell her absolutely everything, and I know that there are things she won't understand about me. But I know that, even if I were to bone up and share every little thing about me, she would continue to accept me for who I am and love me as her own.
So where does bread pudding come in? My mom came to visit me for a few weeks (she lives on the other side of the country boo), and we decided to just take the car and drive south, along the coastline. We love to do that: no set itinerary, with just a list of a couple coffee shops we might hit up if we happen to pass by. This time, we took a pit stop at this local coffee shop in a small beach town, and while I concentrated on the drink menu (cappuccino? mocha? chai?), she suggested we order something to eat as well. My evil twin immediately repulsed at the idea - those lovely pastries in the glass case were mere facades for what they really symbolized: my weakness. And I could not give in. I've learned over the years to tame the voice that, just a few months ago even would have blurted forth with a resounding "No." I didn't say anything. But soon enough, I gave in. The bread pudding with our coffee please. Thank you.
I've never told my mom the extent of my disordered eating. Of course she's seen the external manifestations - my whittling down. She's seen me struggle with food at the dinner table. She may even be aware of my bingeing. (She's a mom - she has that censor, no?) To be able to sit there and share that luscious, massive hunk of honey-sweet bread pudding, studded with chocolate chips...I didn't think about how it would go to my hips, my thighs, my arms. Rather, I realized how happy I was to be sitting in that random coffee shop, my latte in front of me, cafe au lait in front of her. The glorious bread pudding in between us. Sharing a newspaper, and me...happy.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
The Prodigal Returns...?
Omg, it's been forever since I last looked at this thing. Not surprising, considering my track record as to blogs, but I'm really excited about keeping this latest one up to date. There are just too many things I want to share, and I truly do enjoy my daily dose(s) of everyone else's blogs.
The last few days I've been the proverbial "bottomless pit": I've literally been hungry 24/7, and snacking ridiculous amounts. Lest you be misled by what I mean by snacking in my world, here's a brief overview of my personal eating habits:
I've become a recent breakfast-aholic. After becoming reintroduced to oatmeal (in particular, the idea of eating it with peanut butter), I make sure to have a good, warming breakfast every day...usually at 3 a.m. I guess I have a problem with sleeping sometimes (is it because I eat my last meal of the day too early? Or am I just too wired?). It's been easier as of late, and I usually wake up around 5 a.m. I love the early mornings: it's not that I need a lot of time to get ready, but I just consider it my downtime, when I can watch cartoons, listen to music (and maybe dance around), and take my sweet time making myself presentable for the world. There's something very therapeutic about making a bowl of oatmeal (or my latest favorite, which I had today; see below!) and eating it while perusing everyone's blogs.
The bulk of my days are spent at school. When I get home, it is usually around 3 p.m., and I haven't eaten in the interim. Yes, I am breaking all the cardinal rules. I don't eat what would be lunch or a midday meal, I don't even snack (I used to buy protein bars like Lunas to snack on, but I don't anymore...they're too expensive and don't hold me over anyway). I sit through classes in pain sometimes - I still haven't figured out if it's because of my acid reflux or because my stomach is trying to eat itself, but I just can't get myself to eat. Sometimes I will accept a piece of candy (never chips or pizza or anything), and on that rare occasion, I'll get a Starbucks for sleepy days, but I just don't eat.
My second meal of the day will be lunch/dinner. I used to buy food from Whole Foods all the time, like the premade salads, with maybe a treat from the bulk bins or bakery. I realize now and regret how much money I spent, but I've been much better lately. The last few months I've gone without a working oven - I didn't have the gas turned on in my apartment because - please don't laugh! - I thought it would keep me from eating a lot. That was one of the reasons anyway. But then my mom discovered what I was doing and insisted that I have it turned on, so now it is. I'm so busy and tired when I get back from school that I don't do anything fancy, but I'm hoping that I'll be able to get back into the kitchen groove (I love cooking) this summer.
For now, I'm eating through a bunch of food that my mom left for me in the freezer when she visited a few weeks ago. I have on and off days: some days I'll be really disciplined and go with maybe a small bowl of pasta, or a bunch of roasted vegetables. Other days, I'll be ridiculous and eat like my weight in cheese as a snack.
That latter situation is what I mean by "snacking." I'm definately in a better place than I was in even last year (when I went through a whole box of Pop Tarts one day), but I'm definately still a disordered eater. I hate that I'm still so controlled by food - limiting myself, stuffing myself, not going out with friends when I think I've eaten too much, thinking about food WAY too often. If you were to look in my fridge on any given day, I would have NOTHING. Lots of water. I have a stash of tea, usually a jar of peanut butter, but the fridge is basically a facade. Like a mockery of domestic life haha. An empty shell. I'm afraid of having food in the house. Is this how it's going to be later in life? I don't even like the idea of having roommates because then I don't have as much control over what I have access to. Sooo fucked up. (NOTE: I have the mouth of a sailor. That's all!)
Super long post, and I still have so much to get off my chest. I'm usually that person who listens a lot more than she talks, and it's kind of a relief to be able to just get a little self-absorbed (in a good way) and shed a little of my armor. The next few posts will be primarily about me, my history with food, self-esteem and whatever else I get into my head. I'd really love to put up pictures, but I need to figure out what's going on with my camera. So please bear with me!
Breakfast: TWO (I was starving!!) bowls of Kashi Autumn Harvest cereal topped with cinnamon, green-tea soy (it's all I have), a tsp of honey - all microwaved for about 1 minute. I love mashing the cereal together into soggy mush. Soo good and comfort-foody! I also did eat my body weight in Brie (that was no mere hypothetical above, my friends). It's hard for me to admit this, but I'm thinking if I want to make some changes in my life I'm going to have to come clean about these types of things.
I'm waiting for it to become a reasonable hour so I can go to the gym and try to work off at least a cereal bowl's-worth of calories. I don't feel bloated (for once), but I'm worried that my morning mini-gorge will unhinge me for the rest of the weekend, which cannot happen.
Thanks for reading!
The last few days I've been the proverbial "bottomless pit": I've literally been hungry 24/7, and snacking ridiculous amounts. Lest you be misled by what I mean by snacking in my world, here's a brief overview of my personal eating habits:
I've become a recent breakfast-aholic. After becoming reintroduced to oatmeal (in particular, the idea of eating it with peanut butter), I make sure to have a good, warming breakfast every day...usually at 3 a.m. I guess I have a problem with sleeping sometimes (is it because I eat my last meal of the day too early? Or am I just too wired?). It's been easier as of late, and I usually wake up around 5 a.m. I love the early mornings: it's not that I need a lot of time to get ready, but I just consider it my downtime, when I can watch cartoons, listen to music (and maybe dance around), and take my sweet time making myself presentable for the world. There's something very therapeutic about making a bowl of oatmeal (or my latest favorite, which I had today; see below!) and eating it while perusing everyone's blogs.
The bulk of my days are spent at school. When I get home, it is usually around 3 p.m., and I haven't eaten in the interim. Yes, I am breaking all the cardinal rules. I don't eat what would be lunch or a midday meal, I don't even snack (I used to buy protein bars like Lunas to snack on, but I don't anymore...they're too expensive and don't hold me over anyway). I sit through classes in pain sometimes - I still haven't figured out if it's because of my acid reflux or because my stomach is trying to eat itself, but I just can't get myself to eat. Sometimes I will accept a piece of candy (never chips or pizza or anything), and on that rare occasion, I'll get a Starbucks for sleepy days, but I just don't eat.
My second meal of the day will be lunch/dinner. I used to buy food from Whole Foods all the time, like the premade salads, with maybe a treat from the bulk bins or bakery. I realize now and regret how much money I spent, but I've been much better lately. The last few months I've gone without a working oven - I didn't have the gas turned on in my apartment because - please don't laugh! - I thought it would keep me from eating a lot. That was one of the reasons anyway. But then my mom discovered what I was doing and insisted that I have it turned on, so now it is. I'm so busy and tired when I get back from school that I don't do anything fancy, but I'm hoping that I'll be able to get back into the kitchen groove (I love cooking) this summer.
For now, I'm eating through a bunch of food that my mom left for me in the freezer when she visited a few weeks ago. I have on and off days: some days I'll be really disciplined and go with maybe a small bowl of pasta, or a bunch of roasted vegetables. Other days, I'll be ridiculous and eat like my weight in cheese as a snack.
That latter situation is what I mean by "snacking." I'm definately in a better place than I was in even last year (when I went through a whole box of Pop Tarts one day), but I'm definately still a disordered eater. I hate that I'm still so controlled by food - limiting myself, stuffing myself, not going out with friends when I think I've eaten too much, thinking about food WAY too often. If you were to look in my fridge on any given day, I would have NOTHING. Lots of water. I have a stash of tea, usually a jar of peanut butter, but the fridge is basically a facade. Like a mockery of domestic life haha. An empty shell. I'm afraid of having food in the house. Is this how it's going to be later in life? I don't even like the idea of having roommates because then I don't have as much control over what I have access to. Sooo fucked up. (NOTE: I have the mouth of a sailor. That's all!)
Super long post, and I still have so much to get off my chest. I'm usually that person who listens a lot more than she talks, and it's kind of a relief to be able to just get a little self-absorbed (in a good way) and shed a little of my armor. The next few posts will be primarily about me, my history with food, self-esteem and whatever else I get into my head. I'd really love to put up pictures, but I need to figure out what's going on with my camera. So please bear with me!
Breakfast: TWO (I was starving!!) bowls of Kashi Autumn Harvest cereal topped with cinnamon, green-tea soy (it's all I have), a tsp of honey - all microwaved for about 1 minute. I love mashing the cereal together into soggy mush. Soo good and comfort-foody! I also did eat my body weight in Brie (that was no mere hypothetical above, my friends). It's hard for me to admit this, but I'm thinking if I want to make some changes in my life I'm going to have to come clean about these types of things.
I'm waiting for it to become a reasonable hour so I can go to the gym and try to work off at least a cereal bowl's-worth of calories. I don't feel bloated (for once), but I'm worried that my morning mini-gorge will unhinge me for the rest of the weekend, which cannot happen.
Thanks for reading!
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