>I’ve been Peeped

>You’ve heard of Peeping Toms? I have a Peeping Mark — a former boyfriend who has for the past 13 years come by the house and hung a bag full of boxed Peeps on the front door.

I was in the basement doing the laundry today when the Peep-and-run occurred. This year it’s a batch of traditional yellow Peeps. Very nice in their traditional Bartell bag. (Somehow, I don’t think this would work if they weren’t in a Bartell bag.)

I’ve been thinking quite a bit recently about the sentimental pull of food. Since very few of us were raised with treasured recipes for tofu and salad, these sentimental foods tend to be on the unhealthy side. This, then, introduces the question of how to avoid overindulging in Aunt Helen’s fudge, the five-pound box of chocolate from the candy store in your old home town, and the deep-fried goodies at your family’s favorite clam shack (forgive the East Coast reference).

My solution? Eat one meal of the goodies and then ask someone else to make the leftovers disappear. Face it, you will never be able to put even a tablespoonful of Cousin Guido’s lasagna down into the trash. Another approach is to tuck the items into the back of the fridge until they are no longer appealing. And yet a third approach is to let someone else in your house finish them off (unless, of course, this gets into the territory of “sabotage.”)

Not being a sweets person, I’m most likely to have these eat it/toss it interior dialogs in front of a bag of bagels and tub of cream cheese, or looking at a piece of fried chicken. So, fortunately, the Peeps are harmless. I’ll eat a package of them today and then put the rest in a basket for the Easter bunny. He’ll burn it off hopping around tomorrow.

>The "organic" label makes me roll my eyes

>A friend of mine is obsessed with New Age housecleaning products. When she sees my Cheer Free laundry detergent (the big, bad corporate version of perfume-free products) her shoulders tense up and her smile becomes fixed. At her urging, I purchased an alternative laundry detergent. I’m pretty sure it’s exactly the same as the Cheer Free, except that the PR department killed the bright label and replaced it with a soothing beige-and-green label bearing words like “eucalyptus.”

Think I’m being cynical?

Are you a fan of Boca Burgers, Naked Juice, Silk Soy, Gardenburger, Odwalla, Seeds of Change, Dagoba, and Arrowhead Mills? Let’s see…that would be: Kraft, Pepsi, Dean, Kellogg, Coca-Cola, M&M Mars, Hershey Foods and Heinz (which likes to call itself Hain when it’s feeling organic).

Really! Chart here. And thanks to The Diet Blog for pointing this out.

>Eating locally

>A friend turned me on to Mashiko in West Seattle last week. The meal — plates of sashimi composed for us by the chef as we sat at the sushi bar — was amazing. Toro. Monkfish liver. Scallops wrapped in proscuitto. Geoduck. Mashiko offers a sampler of three types of saki, and, that, too, was stellar; one type was redolent of cedar.

The next morning I woke up feeling so healthy and energized. I think it was the food!

>Walking weather

>I’m visiting family in Florida this week. It’s reminding me of what an important role the weather plays in fitness—at least for me.

The temperature here is in the 70s during the day, and, especially when it’s overcast, this is pleasant weather for walking or biking. No bundling up or raincoats required—I just put on comfortable walking sandals and head out the door. There are sidewalks everywhere, and there’s something very pleasant about chugging along while watching the egrets and various other birds in the palm trees.

No question, getting in a 45-minute walk every day is much easier in Florida than it is in still-wintery Seattle. That’s more than 14 miles a week—14 miles a week I haven’t been logging at home.

Hmm.

>In defense of carbs

>(cross-posted on The Mysterious Traveler)

Ten years ago, fat was the bane of dieters. Today, it’s carbs.

But there are carbs, and there are carbs.

One one hand, you have Minute Rice, Ritz crackers, instant oatmeal, and white bread. And on the other hand, you have brown rice, Rye Krisps, steel-cut oats, and breads like Ezekiel Bread and Dave’s Killer Bread.

The difference is whole grains and fiber. The high-fiber carbs are very filling and nutritious. Eaten with a little cheese or peanut butter, they’re a whole meal.

Somewhat to my amazement, I’ve come to love brown rice. I cook a big pot of it every Monday morning, and live off it for the rest of the week. (See the brown rice recipe, below.)

Brown rice heated up with a little cinnamon and brown sugar and chopped apples makes a quick breakfast. Leftover baked chicken or leftover vegetables (or curry) can be mixed with brown rice for lunch. And brown rice pudding with currents makes a very good dessert or evening snack.

My favorite brown rice dish is brown rice pancakes. I mix cooked brown rice with lots of browned onions, eggs, a little potato flour (or regular flour) and a pinch of baking soda. Then I drop the batter by 1/4 measures into a frying pan with oil to make something very similar to potato pancakes.

It turns out there are many types of brown rice. I’ve been using the plain, large-grain brown rice. Here’s the basic recipe:

Either:
• 2-1/3 cups of rice to 4 cups of water
• or 3 -1/2 cups of rice to 6 cups of water

Rinse the uncooked rice three times and drain well. Put the water on to boil in a separate saucepan. While waiting for the water to come to a boil, put two tablespoons of oil in the bottom of a heavy, tight-lidded sauce pan, then sauté the well-drained rice in the oil while you wait for the water to boil. Do this over fairly high heat. It has to be stirred constantly, otherwise it will scorch. This process coats the rice with the oil and evaporates the water from rinsing. The rice will begin to smell very nutty after a minute or two.

When the water in the other pan has come to a vigorous boil, pour it over the rice in the sauce pan. It is very important at this point not to stir the rice anymore, not even once. Let it come back up to a vigorous boil, put the lid on, turn it down as low as you can and cook for 45 minutes. During this time, do not lift the lid or do anything else to it. When 45 minutes is up, turn off the heat and let the rice sit undisturbed for at least 15-20 minutes before serving.

>Am I too sick to work out?

>I’ve had a cold in my chest for more than a week, but no fever. I get tired in the late afternoon, and start coughing when I’m tired. The first day this happened, I took a nap, but now I’m chugging along at pretty much my regular rate.

I’ve been doing yoga, but skipping the African dance aerobic cardio workouts.

Mulling over whether to get back on the track with the cardio class tonight, I did some online research. The best article I found quoted Mayo Clinic physicians advising against doing a major workout after a cold has settled in your chest.

So it’s yoga at home again tonight.

>Comfort food (and drink)

>There’s something about being sick that strips your life down to basics: Bathrobe, shearling slippers, bed, and food that doesn’t have to be cooked much, if at all.

I drink black tea (Yorkshire Gold) all the time, but when I have a cold it’s just Lipton, since I’m going to squeeze half a lemon into every cup anyway!
Clear soup works for me. We have some natural chicken soup base (paste in a jar that you refrigerate, not the powdered stuff) and spicy Thai Kitchen soup (canned). Zorg cooked me scrambled eggs for dinner — perfect.
My comfort-food favorites are extremely dry ginger ale and raspberry sorbet, neither of which we generally keep in stock. And, since I’m only slightly under the weather, I can’t justify wheedling for a special trip the grocery store to get those.
What are your favorite comfort foods?

>Who moved my workout?

>Suddenly none of my fitness classes seems to adhere to a schedule. The every-other-week extreme yoga class is now happening two weeks in a row, but not the next week, and then who knows?

The dance/yoga class is canceled for three weeks, then starting up again in March.

Power belly dancing was on hiatus while the instructor went to Hawaii; now it’s back for a while — until she goes to Egypt. The new start time is earlier than it used to be, so I spaced out and didn’t get to the class on Tuesday. Argh.

As you can probably tell, this is driving me nuts. I was so proud of myself for getting to three workouts a week, no excuses, but now I’m finding the schedule changes are making me crazy and cranky.

I considered trying out a yoga class at a new studio, and penciled two classes in on the calendar this week, but then I wimped out. I find breaking into a new class pretty stressful. I worry about things like will the teacher teach the whole hour using terms I’ve never heard before? Will the class be made up of model-thin 25-year-olds wearing strappy pastel yoga tops?

So I ended up in the dining room this afternoon, doing “trailer park yoga” on my own. I guess that’s the new schedule: If class is canceled, take that time slot and do 50 minutes of yoga in the dining room. While I have trouble pushing myself to do the fast aerobic vinyasa transitions, I can push myself to do the really long poses and long balancing moves, plus the weight lifting, so I’m definitely getting a good workout.

>Who’s in charge here, me — or the menu?

>There are people who enjoy making charts, counting calories, and weighing and measuring, and generally tracking everything they are going to eat.

It doesn’t work for me. It doesn’t work at potlucks, at other people’s houses, or in most restaurants. It doesn’t work because I don’t like a way of eating that makes a fuss or calls attention to me.

To my way of thinking, the American way of eating (out) is so far removed from what’s good or recommended that it feels almost ludicrous to count and measure and nickle-and-dime it (“Let’s see, I can have one-fourth of the bacon cheeseburger, with three french fries…”). So I’ve found that I need whole new strategies to deal with eating out.

Currently, I’m playing around with these three:

1. The 1-in-9 strategy. Eat eight healthy, low-fat, high-fiber, yada-yada, meals at home or at your desk and get one meal out in High-calorie Land. And enjoy it.

2. The half-of-what’s-on-the-plate strategy. This works particularly well with American breakfasts. Order the standard bacon-eggs-toast breakfast and eat half of it. This also works well with “one-dish” types of meals such as pasta dinners and sandwich lunches, where you can get a doggy bag and take the rest home. And it’s also a life-saver when you’re on vacation and none of the menus are within your control so the 1-in-9 strategy can’t be applied.

3. The two-appetizer dinner plan. This is for elaborate multi-course meals in special restaurants where everything looks delicious and, of course, you aren’t going to sit there and nibble the boring Caesar salad while everyone else vacuums up the trout meuniere or fettucine quattro formaggio. Quite often much of what appears on the dinner menu, surrounded by potatoes, rice, sauces, etc., is available in a smaller, less starchy, version as an appetizer. So when everyone else orders an appetizer and a main course, you can order two appetizers, having the second as your main course.

>Fashion: Computer bags get beyond "basic black"

>I’m mad for bags, and got to write about the laptop bags I saw at Macworld Expo for TidBITS, the Mac news site. Here’s the article, and a slideshow.

The photo at right shows me wearing my fave bag, the beta version of a sling bag due out in May from the highly regarded Brenthaven company.

It turned out I wasn’t the only one prowling the aisles at Macworld in search of the coolest bags. You’ll find more bag reviews at Geeksugar (Melissa Beth bags), ars technica, SlipperyBrick (Targus bags), Laptops Arena (Clark & Mayfield bags), and Techie Diva (Urban Junket). Some reviewers were all about fashion and others were all about function.

Ironically, while Crumpler blanketed the blogosphere with press releases about its new line of Squirrel briefcase bags, and won oohs and aahs for its creative booth (a castle) and swag (playing cards), the non-squirrel bags that make up much of the Crumpler line failed to impress me. Most are unconstructed, limp affairs that would look lumpy with a laptop in them, particularly if you tried to stow any odd-shaped accessories as well. Better save the Crumpler for when you’re packing just your iPod and a trendy sweater.