I'm not a theologian, but i do like almond butter.

I love peanut butter. I mean, i have a soul, so obviously i love peanut butter. I went through a chunky phase in elementary/middle school, but somewhere around 7th or 8th grade, i switched to creamy and never looked back. Bizarrely, i don't like peanuts. Meaning i no longer enjoy chunky peanut butter at all, or Snickers bars, or a number of other peanutty treats. But peanut butter? Bring it on.

Lately, i've been making my own almond butter. This is weird for several reasons.

First of all, my tiny food processor isn't capable of turning almonds into the perfectly creamy butter that you find in a jar of Jif. It's pretty smooth and spreadable, but it's also sort of grainy. Not exactly like chunky peanut butter, more like grainy mustard. Now, i like almonds, so it's not really an issue per se, but it's definitely less delicious than i'd like it to be, which is why i haven't made peanut butter yet.

Second, i had never in my life tried almond butter until i made it. So it's not like i was buying up huge jars of the stuff and needed to save money. I honestly don't even remember why i decided to make it. I feel like i may have seen a recipe on one of the cooking blogs i read and thought, "I can do that!", but who even knows. Actually, the more i think about it the more certain i am that i just decided to make it. Welcome to my kitchen.

Third, i am now having so much fun making it that i'm trying to find more ways to eat it so i have an excuse to make more. I have eaten more almond butter in the past month than i have peanut butter in the past year. It's full of protein and light on sugar, salt, and preservatives, but it's also kind of fatty, especially since i add a tiny bit of coconut oil to help smooth it out (this also makes it infinitely more delicious). So i'm not sure if this new obsession is a good idea.

Fourth, despite the half jar of coconut honey almond butter and the full jar of cider spiced walnut/sunflower seed/pecan/almond butter currently in my fridge, i keep thinking of new combinations to try. Chocolate coconut walnut! Cinnamon pecan! Pumpkin spiced almond! I've even thought about savory ones, like coconut curry or roasted garlic with tahini. MAKE ALL THE FLAVORS! It's all i can do to rein in my enthusiasm. It helps that i recently got a roku player, so now i can watch Netflix IN MY BED. Suddenly, the idea of standing upright in the kitchen and watching Netflix on my laptop seems terrible. What is this, 2007? Next you're going to tell me i have to Google things on my laptop or tablet instead of my phone. No. If God wanted me to stand up and do things, or watch internet shows on a computer, He would not have invented roku. Which He clearly did, because it is very good. But my almond butter is very good, too. Like, spiritual gift-good. So i'm conflicted.

Who knew snack food could trigger a spiritual crisis? I'm going to have to meditate on this for a while. Excuse me while i eat home made chocolate ice cream and binge-watch The Office. Religiously.

"Me want FOOOOOOOOOOOOOD."

1. Articles like this are one reason i'm proud to identify as French. And as i once Tweeted, i never feel more French than when i snack.

"They found that of the four populations surveyed (the U.S., France, Flemish Belgium and Japan). Americans associated food with health the most and pleasure the least. Asked what comes to mind upon hearing the phrase "chocolate cake", Americans were more apt to say "guilt", while the French said "celebration"; "heavy cream" elicited "unhealthy" from Americans, "whipped" from the French. The researchers found that Americans worry more about food and derive less pleasure from eating than people in any other nation they surveyed.

"Compared with the French, we're much more likely to choose foods for reasons of health, and yet the French, more apt to chose on the basis of pleasure, are the healthier (and thinner) people."

2. Speaking of food, this is shameful.


3. Hey, look! More food guilt!

The funny thing about this piece (and food guilt in general) is that one of my old roommates is a nutritionist. And she used to advocate low calorie things, like cheesecake made with low-fat Neufchatel cheese and sugar-free sweeteners, or using skim milk and SmartBalance to make alfredo sauce. And we argued about it once. I said i'd rather make the full-fat version of something and then only eat a little, and she said that she'd rather make a low-fat version and eat more.

This is stupid.

Basically, you're saying that you'd rather eat a fuckton of something mediocre than a normal amount of something delicious. It's alfredo sauce! It's butter and cream and cheese! Just eat a small serving of pasta and a large serving of veggies! And don't eat it every night! Eat one serving of chicken fettuccine alfredo tonight, and tomorrow night eat grilled salmon with steamed broccoli. Eat one giant slice of cheesecake now and don't eat any later. Enjoy your food!

"I grew up a Christian, with a pastor for a dad to boot, but my mom is Jewish. And I don't know how well you might know the Jewish stereotypes, but we are a people that have a notorious love for eating and for worrying. So, you know, the little gatherings of my mom and her best friends (Jews, too, by the way) involved bagels, and cream cheese, and lox, or Danish pastries and coffee, or Chinese food, or whatever, but it's like, here are all these women, different sizes, different shapes -- and they're enjoying their food, but at the same time, they're worrying. They're like, punishing themselves for eating. Like, "this is great, but I shouldn't be eating it, I'm fat" or "I'll take JUST A SLIVER of that cheesecake" or eating two different kinds of cake while insisting on Sweet N Low and skim milk for their coffee -- not because they like it that way, but because they're "cutting calories."

4. I can't even pick one quote from this. Just read it. So lovely.

5. Reading this was akin to a holy experience. I wanted to say "amen" when i was done (and at several points along the way).

"Strong does not necessarily mean six pack abs. It doesn't mean defined triceps, a body-fat percentage in the single digits, or butt you can bounce quarters off of (is that really a thing?). Strong is the process. It’s the journey from self-consciousness to self-awareness. Strong is thinking about what you want out of life, and realizing that your body is the vessel that has to physically carry you there. It is figuring out how exercise and nutrition fit into the puzzle of wellness that keeps you healthy and happy and sane.

Sometimes wellness means skipping a workout to drink wine with people you care about, or to finish a book that you can’t bear to put down, or to invest a few hours in your career. Sometimes it means yoga and tennis because you’re craving the pursuit of sweat-drenched mindfulness but you also want to hit a ball as hard as you can and grunt in an unladylike manner. Strong is pushing yourself to try scary new things, like hiking to Machu Picchu or your first ever jazz square. In the attempt, you will find new depths of humility (I suck at jazz squares) and new pride in knowing that you have accomplished more than you thought you could.

*****

If you go digging, you will find insurgent movements celebrating the refrain, “Real Women Have Curves” and flaunting chubby tummies and thunder thighs. If, like me, you are the possessor of a tummy that isn't flat and thighs that are not lean, these sentiments may momentarily thrill you. Your people are speaking up! And they are beautiful, which means that you are beautiful too!

But this is a shortsighted solution to a longstanding problem. The endgame here is not to place a different shape, be it a curvy “real woman” or a taut-bodied fitspo model, on the top of the pyramid and declare a new world order. The endgame is to knock down the pyramid.

You are beautiful, but it’s not because your silhouette has suddenly been declared desirable. That edict can change in an instant, my friends, and someone always loses. Wellness does not have to be a zero sum game, so let’s not throw each other under the bus of passing fads. Take care of what you've got. Be well. Be strong."

musical fruit

I'm one week into my final month of employment, and i have yet to line up another job. Also if i don't get all of my test scores in by October 1, i'll have to put off student teaching yet again. Which will mean that i can work more hours this fall (assuming i get a job), but will also mean that i took this plunge for no real reason.

Well. There is a reason. It's time.

I feel like a baby bird getting nudged out of the nest, and there's going to be that initial elevator-drop-adrenaline-rush-stomach-in-my-throat sensation, and then i'll catch the air and soar away. And i know that i'll look back on this one day as a great adventure. Especially if i have kids, because as hard and scary as it is to contemplate supporting myself for the next however long on my savings account, there's no way i could do something like this if i had to support someone else as well. And what if i have a job in the future that i hate? What if i'm stuck in it, miserable every day, because i can't afford to leave it because of all these whiny gremlins demanding food? I FED YOU YESTERDAY. DON'T YOU KNOW HOW TO USE THE STOVE YET?

Yeah. I probably won't have kids.

Hey, speaking of feeding, i'm anticipating a lot less of that in the coming weeks. No more picking up an exotic vegetable or foreign spice just because i'm curious to find out what it tastes like. In fact, if i don't have a job by the end of August, there's a good chance i'll be living on rice and beans for a while. It's not so bad; i've done it before, and you'd be amazed how long it takes you to get tired of really well prepared rice and beans. And i'll try to supplement with some kinds of fruits and veggies daily, and maybe once a week i'll have eggs or a burger or something.

To be honest, it will be kind of great in some ways. It's a little like a cleanse, right? getting rid of all the preservatives and salt and sugar and artificial flavorings i've consumed lately, focusing on clean, whole foods with natural, simple ingredients with very little fat or carbs. And it will be something of a relief to not have to think about recipes for a while. Don't get me wrong: i love recipes. But sometimes, standing in front of a pile of tofu, endives, sweet potatoes, feta, and baby dill pickles (actual current contents of my fridge) and trying to figure out what to make for dinner is more exhausting than it's worth. I'm all for creativity, but i'm also all for calling the Chinese restaurant and shoveling MSG prepared by someone else into my face.

I won't be ordering take-out for a while, though. I won't be going out, either. I was heading home yesterday and it took all my willpower not to drive four blocks to Wendy's. All i could think about was French fries and a bacon cheeseburger. Instead, i made buffalo chicken macaroni at home. It made enough for leftovers, too, which Wendy's would not have, and the ingredients probably cost about the same as the Wendy's would have.

So. It's gonna be lots of rice and beans. Unless i get that job at Trader Joe's, in which case, HELLO EMPLOYEE DISCOUNT ON DELICIOUS FOOD!

So there's a thing that exists that is bad and scary. Well. There are a lot of those things, but only one that i'm talking about right now.

That thing is "pro ana" culture. "Ana" is short for "anorexic", and "pro" means exactly what you think it does.

There are people who believe that anorexia, bulimia, and other eating disorders, are perfectly fine and valid and healthy ways to live. In fact, at the very far end of the spectrum, there are people who speak directly to "Ana". You could say they worship her. They ask her for the strength of will and body to deny themselves food. They believe that they have been chosen for something special. And they look down on those who try to emulate them, calling them "wannarexics".

In middle school, and in high school, and in college, and this week, i am and have been a wannarexic.

I lack the willpower and physical strength to deny myself food entirely. If i skip a meal and do not snack, i am shaking and nauseous and dizzy and seeing spots by the time the next meal rolls around. One meal is all it takes, and i'm falling apart at the seams.

I used to be angry with myself for this. I used to be angry that i couldn't hold out for more than one meal a day, angry that i could rarely go more than a few days in a row before i stopped skipping meals and ate regularly, angry that i couldn't just stop. Stop everything. Stop being fat, stop being ugly, stop being awkward, stop feeling uncomfortable in my skin, stop feeling uncomfortable in my head, stop saying and doing embarrassing things, stop being lonely, stop being afraid, stop being sad, stop being numb, stop being.

When i got a little older and a little wiser and learned a little more about myself and nutrition and mental health, i developed a healthy fear of that anger. I figured out better, healthier habits that would actually result in weight loss without making me physically ill. I climbed mountains, i swam oceans, i lost the "freshman 15", i gained the sophomore/junior 20ish, i lost the senior year haven't-even-been-weighed-in-years-but-all-my-pants-keep-falling-down, put on the real job with an actual paycheck and car now-i-can-afford-food-and-don't-have-to-walk-two-miles-for-it. And none of it bothered me that much. I would like, even now, to jiggle a little less. I would like to feel healthier and happier in my skin. But i would also like to eat all of the chocolate cream pie right now please, thankyouverymuch, and then you can bring me the fresh bread with butter and the beer and the buffalo chicken waffle fries with extra cheese and then maybe a bowl of whipped cream. To dip my peanut butter cups in.

Anyway. I'm mostly in a much better place, and things were going well for a while, and then i lost my gym momentum and while the ten pounds i lost in the first quarter of the year have stayed off, none of their friends have joined them.

And lately i've been depressed and anxious, what with all the uncertainty about jobs and student loans and will i even be able to afford groceries this winter and oh my God what if something happens to my car and everyone in my family keeps getting rushed to the emergency room and my boyfriend and i keep having uncomfortable conversations and i can't sleep and i really wish my thighs were a little slimmer, a little firmer. I wish my stomach was flatter. I wish i didn't have the tiniest shadow of a double chin. Because somehow, if i could magically become super hot and fit overnight, that would obviously fix all of my terrifying life problems.

And then i start to feel out of control.

And then i start to wish that i was chosen. I start to be angry at myself for my lack of control, for eating more food when i really wasn't hungry (even though the "more food" was fresh veggies, or raw almonds with dried fruit, or chicken lettuce wraps). I'm angry about my lack of motivation to go to the gym. I'm angry at my apathy. I'm angry at my depression. I'm angry at my body. I'm angry at Ana.

This week, i have honestly and legitimately had a lot of work to do, and it's been hard to go home for lunch. And every day, there's been some fresh disaster on top of the huge piles of work that i didn't get a chance to finish the day before. And ordering out is, unfortunately, not in my budget right now. So i really don't have a lot of options.

But i could still leave my desk and go eat lunch. Nothing i do at my job is so urgent, so crucial, that delaying it for an hour would spell the downfall of Western civilization. It wouldn't even spell the downfall of my job. And i could still pack myself a lunch to eat at my desk, knowing how hard it will be to get away and go home. I don't have a lot of options, but "not a lot" is more than "none".

And yet.

I keep skipping lunch. I skip lunch and i eat a spoonful of peanut butter at my desk, and then i go home and eat a snack and get busy until it's too late to eat a full meal, so then i go to sleep hungry. And then i wake up hungry and don't have anything fast and easy, so i eat a spoonful of peanut butter at my desk, or some almonds and dried cherries, and i drink a lot of water and tea and pretend that the hunger pangs are dehydration.

I don't have anything clever to say about any of this. I don't have any hope to offer. I don't have a light at the end of the tunnel. But it is two o'clock now and i am heading home for lunch.

So i bought an ice cream maker.

I love ice cream a whole lot, but i don't really eat it that often. Buying those tiny Haagen Dazs or Ben and Jerry's pints is delicious, but SO pricey. I could buy a whole gallon of Edy's for the same price, and let's face it, Edy's ice cream is pretty fucking delicious, too.

Honestly, it costs about the same to make my own ice cream (depending on whether i'm making a plain vanilla or something with flavors and chunks and swirls). And it makes about two quarts, which is a nice compromise size-wise. I had to put up some money initially, of course, for the machine, but i think of it as an investment in deliciousness.

I found this recipe for a toasted marshmallow coconut milk ice cream that sounded STUPID tasty. I mean, coconut and toasted marshmallow? And the pictures looked amazing: the meltiest, fluffiest, creamiest ice cream i had ever seen. Absolute perfection.

Here's the problem: something went wrong with the recipe. I don't totally know what; i suspect i didn't freeze the ice cream canister for long enough. I followed the user manual, but the ice cream turned out hard and icy. It tastes great, it's just the wrong texture. Kind of like a toasted marshmallow coconut milk ice pop. Which, you know, still cold and flavorful, which is all i really care about on a hot July afternoon, but it looks like i have some tweaking to do before i have any real ice cream.

In the meantime, i'll be drooling over recipes online.

Ten points if you get that reference.

1. I also hate mayonnaise, and i can't wait to make this potato salad! (Side note: i have a bizarre desire to make my own mayonnaise some day. I don't understand why. Though i've been told that comparing homemade mayo to store bought is like comparing homemade chocolate chip cookies from scratch to stale sugar-free store-brand chocolate-flavored chip cookies.)

2. I waffle a little with Sarah Bessey. She has amazing stories to tell, and you can't deny her talent, her voice. But sometimes she's a little too sappy and feelings-y for me. Just personal taste.

Other times, however, that sappy feelings-y nonsense taps deep into something unexpected, and i find myself sitting at my desk, holding back tears. This is one of those.

"What is there to say? What can we do but huddle into rows of chairs, and clutch our hearts, and sob into our shredded balled-up tissues? What can we do but stand around and drink juice, red-eyed and hicupping? We'll sign up for a few meals when what we really want to do is lay out on the floor, beside you, and cry until we're empty because what else? There aren't old stories to tell, no laughter breaking through the sorrow. This is lamentation. I am fumbling for hope. Is there really comfort in the idea of a baby in the arms of Jesus when all we want is for that baby to be in the arms of his broken mama? . . .

God has asked too much of us."

3. So i've been on this whole get healthy kick this year, right? I want to be less jiggly, and have more energy, and generally feel happier and healthier in my skin, right? And then i read this article on Cracked, and i remember that terrible quote (i think from Kate Moss?): Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels. And i think, skinny can't possibly feel good enough to make any of that go down easily. Also, bacon. It's just not worth it.

4. I'm a white woman, so i can't really comment meaningfully on the Black Male Code, but i thought that this was a fascinating read. And, based on stories i've read and people i've talked to, this sounds like depressingly good advice.

"I thought my son would be much older before I had to tell him about the Black Male Code. He's only 12, still sleeping with stuffed animals, still afraid of the dark. But after the Trayvon Martin tragedy, I needed to explain to my child that soon people might be afraid of him.

I was far from alone in laying out these instructions. Across the country this week, parents were talking to their children, especially their black sons, about the Code. It's a talk the black community has passed down for generations, an evolving oral tradition from the days when an errant remark could easily cost black people their job, their freedom, or sometimes their life."

5. Patton Oswalt is freaking amazing. I've been thinking about this letter all weekend and will likely continue to ponder it for a long time.

6. Okay, seriously, Hayley Campbell? I love her.

"I think Pumping Iron -- and I don't think I'm alone here -- is one of the greatest films you can watch in nine parts on YouTube. For starters there's Arnold Schwarzenegger, all smiles and absurd accent, being genuinely charming but mostly weird in tiny underpants."

Humorous writing, just like all other forms of artistic expression, is partly art and partly science. The science part -- knowing how to set up a joke, knowing how to structure the punch line, knowing what should follow the punch line? Hayley has a Ph.D. in that science. She also has the raw talent to pull of the "art" part. And she apparently lives a life of absurdity and adventure (and normal, banal things like going to the gym) which is rife with material. I seriously love her. Hard.

Grrrr. Arrrrgh.

Guys. Let's talk about avocados for a minute.

Now, i am not one to turn up my nose at a perfectly ripe avocado. It is, after all, perfectly ripe. It is tender and buttery and rich and you half expect it to melt in your mouth. I like perfectly ripe avocados mashed into guacamole, or sliced on top of burgers, or simply dipped into sea salt and eaten alone. I even like avocado ice cream. Savory, sweet, or naked, a perfectly ripe avocado is pretty irresistible.

But sometimes, what i really want is a slightly under-ripe avocado. (DO NOT eat an over-ripe avocado. They taste like over-ripe bananas. Bad idea.) Slightly under-ripe avocados remind you they are, in fact, a fruit. They are tender yet firm, like a peach, and so sweet and mild in flavor. You can taste the richness ahead, but it's still soft and delicate.

Let's talk about how to eat that slightly under-ripe avocado. And let's do so while ignoring the mess on my bed. (Except for Volume Two of Buffy: Season Eight. Yeah, that's a yellow sale sticker you see on Faith's perfectly tousled hair. Six bucks, whatwhat?! Shout out to New England Comics!)

What you see here is a masterpiece of a meal. I bought this five-grain blend at Marshalls (quinoa, brown rice, red lentils, two other things, who cares), and cooked it slow and gentle, risotto-style, and then melted in some Parmesan. I did that a few days ago and had leftovers in the fridge, so a healthy serving of cold grains were the first thing in my bowl. Next was falafel. You can just see the yellow grittiness of it, above the blurry rainbow grains and below the brilliant scarlet mess of gazpacho. Yes, gazpacho. Homemade. Garlicky and vinegary and chock full of veggies. (Actually, side note: SO MANY of the things that i usually think of as vegetables are really fruits. Like avocados. And tomatoes. And peppers. So this dinner is really fruit soup with fruit slices and fruit patties and grain.)

So. Yes. Gazpacho. I've made this every summer for the past three years. My recipe is based on one from the "Quick and Easy Seven Dollar Meals" cookbook, but it's a little different every time i make it. I'm pretty happy with this batch, though. I'm especially happy with the way that it melts into the falafel and the grains and the whole thing makes a heavy, intensely flavorful stew. Thick enough to eat with a fork, and all sloppy and healthy and colorful, and topped off with those sweet, firm, buttery avocados.

Eat while watching Buffy: Season Three. And then follow immediately with an entire pint of Ben and Jerry's Coffee Heath Bar Crunch ice cream.

standards

There are a couple of quick meals that i eat at least once a week. For example, when i stay at my boyfriend's house (three or four nights a week), i pack a breakfast for the morning. It has to be something ready to eat so i don't have to do any cooking, and it has to be in one container so i don't have to carry too much back and forth. Enter: yogurt!

I start with a layer of frozen fruit. From a bag. Stop judging me. I use fresh when it's in season, and i roasted some fresh peaches recently (omg, peach pie for breakfast. sooooo gooooood). Anyway, this is mixed fruit: strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, and mango.

And then i drench them in raw honey. This was a Himalayan acacia honey.

And then there's that blanket of Greek yogurt. I like the Cabot Creek full fat kind: heavy, creamy, and smooth. One bite and you'll never buy fruit-on-the-bottom again.

On Mondays, i eat vegetarian. And obviously, i still need protein. And flavor. And a filling meal.

So i throw some kale or spinach into a skillet with tomatoes, garlic powder, and butter or olive oil, cover it, and let it steam and saute until it's all tender and flavorful.

Oh hey, leftover waffle with melty Brie. I see you there.

Veggies layered on bread and cheese. More melting happens.

And then some poached eggs and pepper. And then eating. Lots of eating.

Dinners are a lot more variable, because i have more time and have spent all day thinking about what i want to eat. And working, obviously. But these two meals show up pretty frequently during the week.

Stay tuned for more food!