Gearing Up

So, this week, I will begin cooking from my new book, The Yoga Body Diet. I received the book in the mail last week and read it, cover to cover, in about three days. I took the assessment test and discovered, much to my own surprise, that my dosha, or personality(ish) type, is pitta. Pittas are associated with the element fire and the summer season. They are typical "Type A" personalities with a fair amount of drive and ambition. Now, I can't say that I fall completely into this category, especially because the test indicated that I am also fairly close to the kapha, or earth dosha, but a lot of the pitta characteristics seem to apply to me.

Why am I writing about this right now? Mainly because, as a pitta, I am supposed to (essentially) cook from summer's bounty and limit the amount of spices that I use in my cooking. I am good with the fresh fruits and vegetables that abound with this season - in fact, summer is really my very favorite time/season in which to cook. Summer produce is incredible and the flavors are made even more amazing by eating everything at the peak of ripeness. (Anyone who has ever been suckered into buying summer fruit -watermelons, strawberries, etc. - during the winter knows what an extreme disappointment they usually are. Trust me - been there and done that just because I have been jonesing for a bite of summer on a cold winter day.) I love the beautiful, ruby-red strawberries and the way their flavor brightens my entire mouth. I adore fat, fuzzy peaches and their sweet-tart juiciness that feels like a dose of sunshine itself. Summertime, homegrown tomatoes are to die for - plump, earthy, explosively warm tomato flavor in a riot of colors. All kinds of peppers are amazing - some scorching and some sweetly piquant - picked at the peak of ripeness, and can enliven just about any dish. I also love the cooking techniques (or lack thereof) the hot weather brings - cold and crisp dinner salads, savory meats grilled outdoors, fresh fruits and vegetables that need no further embellishment than a sprinkle of salt or a twist of black pepper. Ahhh......I can almost taste it all now.

I started by saying that I can deal with the pitta perspective of a diet based on fresh fruits and vegetables and that is, in fact, the truth. I think the only issue I might have is with limiting the spices, although I think my children will thank me for it (not big fans of spicy anything, unless it is a sausage of some sort). True to my predominantly pitta nature, I LOVE spicy foods and would pretty much eat them any day and any way. As a Central Texan, I adore Tex-Mex, but I don't limit myself to the cuisine of chips and salsa. Oh no, I am international in my spice consumption - Thai, Indian, Italian and so on, each hold at least one heavily spiced dish that is near and dear to my heart (and the subsequent burn). Ah well, much like the alcohol that I have overindulged in the past couple of weeks, it is not going to hurt me to give it up for the next few weeks. It should facilitate the re-balancing of my dosha and the deepening of my yoga practice (which is a surprisingly good workout - trust me, I am pretty hard core with my exercise and I was astounded by how difficult holding various poses actually is). I am menu planning this afternoon and should have more posts this week as I attempt to adhere to an Ayurvedic, pitta-specific diet. Wish me luck....or perhaps send me a "namaste".

A Couple of New Things

This one is gonna be short, folks. I thought, what with finishing school and getting through wedding season and all, that I was going to have mountains of time in which to write witty/inspiring/laugh out loud (I refuse to use text-speak)/delicious word pictures of the many foods that I try/buy/make/consume. Sadly, I was incorrect in the respect that I have lost all sense of discipline over the past week and a half, and I have found many other things (TV! Fictional novels! Sleep!) with which to occupy my time.

In any case, here are a few quick thoughts: first, after renting a margarita machine for my graduation party this past weekend, I have decided that I am officially tired of margaritas (or "margarinas", as my six-year-old was calling them). I currently have about 1/2 a gallon left in my freezer. (No way were we going to waste good booze by turning it back over to the margarita machine folks!) I am guessing that I am not officially tired of alcohol because I continue to consume all of the post-party goodies in my fridge as well - goodies as in beer mostly.

Second, just as soon as it gets here in the mail (or however it is being delivered to my house), I am planning to try a new diet called, "The Yoga Body Diet". (Wow, Mom! I can hear you rolling your eyes from here!) I am not doing it so much for the weight loss (although, hell, who I am kidding? That would be a nice side-effect), but more for the assessment tests and yoga moves to support health, weight loss and general relaxation. Despite my undisciplined post-culinary school state these days, I still feel kinda stressed, so I figured, ancient discipline based on centering yourself to achieve a calm relaxation? What could it hurt, right? Also, I am pretty excited about getting some new recipes (the book has about 75 of them) added to my already fairly extensive repertoire. I will definitely keep (all four of) you updated on how those recipes and the diet program itself stacks up.

That is about all I have for now and, really, based on my level of anti-productivity these days, that is pretty dang good, if I do say so myself. More to come soon....

Post Wedding Burgers

Meh. I said (or rather, typed - on Facebook) that I wasn't going to write today, but I changed my mind. I have been doing too much of nothing (or would that be too little of anything) lately. So, while my children are occupied by their hour of "screen time", i.e. the grand old dame of electronic babysitters, television, I shall quickly post something new.

In my last post, I mentioned what a crazy whirlwind my life has been the past couple of weeks and last weekend was kind of the pinnacle of wonderful chaos for me. I graduated from culinary school last Thursday and then my children acted as flower-girls in the wedding of a very dear friend of mine, so we had wedding-related activities Friday and Saturday as well. After the wedding ceremony itself on Saturday, we headed to downtown Austin for the reception at a fairly swanky hotel. We ate dinner, drank ourselves (read: mostly my husband) silly at the open bar and ended up, after cake and dancing, in the lobby bar around 10 pm. After having another round of drinks with which we toasted the bride and groom again, a group of us decided to hit the entertainment district in search of.....a hamburger. Yep, you read that right. In our defense, it was purported to be one of the city's best: a 3/4 pound hamburger with all the trimmings at an Austin bar called Casino El Camino.

So, there were six of us, three of which have been friends since we were children plus our respective spouses/significant others, and between us, we ordered five of these mammoth burgers. (Now, I say "mammoth", but it was a bar and it was REALLY dark, so I had to rely upon my sense of smell, taste and touch, rather than my eyesight in these circumstances. Really - the only light came from the street outside, the scattered neon on the walls and the TV over the bar which was unfortunately playing the last half of the movie, "Deliverance". Good times.) In any case and, hopefully, needless to say, I was not really hungry, especially since I had already eaten a full meal only a couple of hours before, but I decided I could handle the burger on my own. (One of my friends did the intelligent thing and split a burger with her husband.)

I have to say, right here and now, that I am no burger connoisseur, so if you are, please do not be offended by the next part of my post. The burger at Casino El Camino was good. It was good and it was huge, so if you are starving and in desperate need of a hamburger, this sucker is for you. It smelled amazing - full of grilled, ground beefy goodness, punctuated by the pungency of raw onions, the sweet earthy tomato slices and the toasted-yeasty scent of the bun. It tasted pretty good, too - hot, rich, juicy, savory meat with the light acid of the tomatoes, fresh crisp of the lettuce and sharp bite of the onions. I ate half of the hamburger completely naked - mostly because I couldn't make out more than a vague hamburger shaped blob sitting in a basket in front of me and also because our somewhat grouchy waitress didn't offer any condiments. The french fries were also fairly tasty - just hot and crisp enough and with only a light dusting of salt. I wanted to finish the second half. Honestly I did, but I figured that if I continued to cram food into my already full stomach, I would not be happy with the results. So, I offered the second half to my equally full husband who was more than pleased to help finish my meal. Like I said, I am no burger expert, but I was not completely blown away by the burger at Casino El Camino. It was good, but fell a little short of great. Blame it on my own slight intoxication, the late hour, the level of food fatigue I was already feeling - what have you - but I probably won't be making a trip back to Casino El Camino for the burger. Now the Bloody Mary, on the other hand.....well, we may just have to see about that.

Memories Overlaid

Based on the fact that I have started quite a number of my posts with an apology (more to myself than to anyone else), I am not going to do that today. I would indeed be remiss if I didn't at least say that I wish that more time had been available to me the past three weeks so that I could write about some of the many things that have been going on. It has been a whirlwind of cakes, baby showers, bridal showers, school work, bachelorette parties, moving assistance, kids, marriage, life - I have so many things to say about all of that, but today I wanted to write about a couple of other things. If you all will indulge me a little, just for today, I am not going to write about food directly. I know this is a food blog and all, but I wanted to write about a journey that I have been on for the past several years. Here goes and, I promise, next time it will be back to good food/cakes/products as per the usual around here.

I know I have mentioned before that I am a culinary student and I am proud to announce that today is my very last day of culinary school. In addition to being gifted the joy that is scrubbing the kitchen this afternoon, I also am attending my graduation ceremony tonight. (Man, do I wish I didn't have to pull a Clark Kent and change in the ladies room at school this afternoon. That is NOT fun.) Today is the culmination of three years of hard work, juggling school and home life, and I am pleased that those years have paid off for me in so many ways. I have learned so much about myself and I have made a lot of great friends, so despite my ecstatic exclamation that I AM GRADUATING, I will actually miss school and all that entails.

Now, many of you may not know this about me, but I am a numbers/dates freak. My family routinely makes fun of me for remembering random dates and happenings, but something about keeping track of my personal history and important days in my mind is soothing and logical to me. I love it when I can plan major life events around that personal history - somehow imbuing the new event with weight and meaning before it even occurs. For instance, our tenth wedding anniversary is next week. We chose that day, originally, to fall close to my grandfather's birthday and were really excited when we realized that my husband graduated college five years ago on that date, and I began working at the store where we would eventually meet on that exact date as well. Both events led to us meeting and, eventually, getting married. (Did I forget to mention that my husband is almost as bad as I am about this kind of stuff?) In any case, May 13th is yet another of those dates for me.

Six years ago, at almost this exact time, I was lying on an operating table having a craniotomy to remove a massive brain tumor. I was 25 years old, had an 8-month old daughter and was not sure if I would wake up to the knowledge that I had brain cancer, major neurological impairments, a massive change in personality or even at all following the surgery. Fortunately for me, my surgery was about as successful as neurosurgery can be. I was still the same person (albeit with a massive scar and a really wicked haircut), I was completely cancer free and, best of all, I was alive and healthy. Everything changed for me after May 13th, 2004 and my life would not be what it is today without having had that experience.

Fast forward about three years, another beautiful baby girl and lots of amazing life later, and I was facing down the first day of culinary school. Now, for those who don't know me, I am a worrier and I mean in the extreme sense. Although it was not unusual to see me running through the neighborhood on a daily basis, (and still is not), it was a little unusual that I had woken up well before the break of dawn that first day of culinary school and was so full of nervous energy that I had to channel it in a positive manner or run the risk of making myself completely sick. So, I ran. I ran as hard as I could, all the while thinking to myself, "you CAN do this. You CAN go back to school and you CAN learn to be a professional chef." I remember thinking these exact words, "you have survived BRAIN surgery. You can do THIS. Showing up for class is easy compared to that." I made it through the run and through the day, only to feel like I was going to hyperventilate the moment I stepped onto campus that evening, but I plunked myself down in a chair and, ultimately, kicked ass in that class (Viticulture and Enology - where my incredibly near-photographic memory allowed me to earn my first of all "A's" in culinary school).

So, tonight when I walk across the stage to accept my second college degree, an Associates of Applied Sciences in Culinary Arts, I will be thinking about not only how I survived brain surgery six years ago today, but also how I survived culinary school for the past three years. Like I said, I have learned so much about myself - my confidence is fairly unflappable and those little voices of self-doubt have long since quieted down. Here's the long and short of it: I learned, through brain surgery and through the gauntlet that is learning how to be in a professional kitchen, that I am a bit of a badass. I was once nervous about even walking into a commercial kitchen and now I know that I belong in one. I once didn't know how I was going to bake/transport/set up 200 cupcakes and now I create amazing custom cakes whose designs rival those of some pretty amazing pastry chefs. I used to take my health, my brain, my memory, my scholastic aptitude all for granted and now, I am in fantastic shape, graduating with a 4.0 GPA and am profoundly grateful for every day I am given. My children, my husband, my family and my friends should all share this accomplishment with me. You all were there when it was a matter of life or death and you were all there when it became a matter of following my dream. I would not have been able to accomplish any of this without your love, faith and support and for that, I am deeply, humbly grateful. Thanks to everyone out there for indulging me this post and look for new items regarding my food-life after culinary school very soon.

Still Here and Still Healthy

Ok - a full quart of the home-brewed kombucha is consumed and I am still kicking. Honestly, I feel pretty good and, whether psychosomatic or not, I kind of felt a spike in my energy level yesterday as well. That is truly saying something for me, especially on a Monday, because it is one of my longer days at school and well, it is Monday for crying out loud. I managed to not only blog, but also to finish about half of the week's worth of laundry, do a little school work and cook dinner for last night and for tonight as well. Really - that is a LOT more than I typically do on a Monday afternoon/evening. I am usually wiped out by my class and it is like pulling teeth just trying to get the bare minimum done for the day and to prepare for a very early morning on Tuesday.

I am still not digging on the lack of fizziness in my first batch here, but the flavor is definitely growing on me. It is nicely tart with just a little hint of sweetness and it really looks pretty in the glass. I get that sour, fermented smell off the liquid, but it is not as off-putting as some of the store-bought varieties that I have tried. (Please see the entry entitled, "Oh, the horror!" Geez - I just gagged a little reliving that experience.) Also, I am not sure if I did it right, but my kombucha is lacking the snotty strings of culture that typically float around in the store bought bottles. Maybe that is why it is not effervescent, but if so, I can live with that. Those cultures may be the key to bubbles and the most healthful benefit of kombucha, but I am not a fan of chewing my drinks, so, like I said, I can live with mine being less snotty than most.

Anyway, on with the experimentation (or the "snake-oil" as my mother is fond of saying these days). I have a little more time this morning to see if I can figure out how to carbonate my next batch because I have a new gallon of sweetened tea sitting on the stove, awaiting its "mothers". I think I am going to go tropical with this batch - maybe acai, tamarind or guanabana. We shall see what I feel like when I get to the store this afternoon or tomorrow. Here's to not poisoning myself and keep your fingers crossed for fizzy next week!! Til next time....

Addendum (posted 2 minutes later): I figured it out. I refrigerated my kombucha during the second fermentation process. I should have left it out on the counter because I think I made the culture go dormant by chilling it. Ok, well, it obviously didn't hurt ME and I know better for next time.

I Did It

That's right....I did it. I brewed my first batch of kombucha. I actually just finished drinking my first full glass of kombucha and, a full five minutes later, I am still sitting here at the desk, not retching my guts out. Again with the too much information, you say? Well, let's just say that the whole "accidentally poisoning myself" thing has been in the back of my mind the whole time this tasty little drink has been brewing. I am relatively pleased with the results of my first effort: the kombucha is an appealing maroon color and has a bright and tangy flavor which complements the blueberry and pomegranate flavors of the fruit juice used in the fermentation process. A couple of things that I am not so happy with: first, my kombucha is not effervescent and I am not exactly sure why. Second....well, mostly I am just peeved that the stuff didn't come out fizzy. Other than that, it tastes, smells, appears to be exactly like the stuff that I have bought at the grocery store. I guess I will have to research and try to figure out why the drink did not self-carbonate this time. "If at first you don't succeed, try, try again," right? Hell, as long as I don't make myself sick from this stuff, I think I will count this little experiment as a success. I think I will hang on to this first batch and ingest it by myself to see how it affects me. I had promised a couple of friends that they could try it, providing I avoided any type of medical follow-up after drinking it, but despite my early digestive prowess, I want to make sure it is safe before I go around handing out liquids inadvertently laden with food-borne illnesses. Maybe the next batch will be bubbly. I sure hope so because that is kind of why I decided to initiate this little adventure in the first place.

Oh, the horror!!

Well, first of all, I am embarrassed yet again. Mainly because I have been slacking and have not posted anything new for quite a while now. Truly, this was not because I did not have anything to say - anyone who knows me even a little will tell you that is NEVER the case. Mostly, it was because I have been so stressed out by school and by life that I just have not had the opportunity to sleep well, let alone write on my pretty little blog. I am still stressed, and will continue to be for at least the next 12 hours (BIG day for me at school - once this one is over, I can kick back a little), but I tried something yesterday that required at least a short entry.

Remember a couple of weeks ago, I was talking about my little kombucha obsession? Well, it continues today and my little brewing experiment is progressing nicely on my countertop even as I type. It should actually be ready by next Monday, so expect a blurb about my first home-brewed batch of pomegranate-blueberry kombucha first thing Tuesday morning. (Again, that presupposes that I will not need to visit the nearby hospital for a stomach pumping Monday evening. Fingers crossed!) Anyway, back to today's topic - yesterday my daughter and I were grocery shopping and, like I have been doing for a couple of weeks now, I stopped by the refrigerated section of the health foods aisle at my store to pick up a new flavor of kombucha. (I have tried quite a few at this point and they have all been tasty in their own way.) Based on the fact that I am currently fighting off the remnants of a cold and, yesterday, a minor hangover to boot (I said I was stressed - no judgement, people!), I decided to try the "green" kombucha, which listed a number of plant based ingredients, the most intriguing of which was blue algae. I am not sure why I thought that this was a good idea, but the color looked so dang pretty in the store. It was this beautiful, clear, kelly-green that looked fresh and just seemed to smack of healthful benefits. I was kind of excited to try it since it was the first non-fruit based version that I have picked up.

So, I get home, unload the groceries and whip out the emerald kombucha. I started to shake it, gently, to distribute the culture and because there seemed to be some green sediment at the bottom of the bottle. I was kind of fascinated by how quickly the oz-like liquid morphed into dirty, sludgey swamp water because, apparently that is what the sediment was. Then, because I shook the bottle a little too much, it started hissing at me, so I unscrewed the cap and spewed fizzy, algae laced kombucha everywhere. Seriously, the foam that now covered the bottle, my hands and filled most of the glass that I managed to get out had these filthy, scummy little specks in it. I thought it couldn't possibly smell or taste as bad as it looked, so I sniffed it cautiously and was smacked in the face with a rather rancid, soured spinach (and I guess algae) odor. It was like a glass full of the Bog of Eternal Stench (little game for you - guess the movie!)....ok, maybe not that bad, but god, it smelled foul. You might think that I wouldn't drink something that I thought looked and smelled disgusting. Well....you would be wrong. I thought it couldn't POSSIBLY taste as bad as it looked and as bad as it smelled. So, I held my breath and chugged.

Moral of the story here is: if it looks like a duck, walks like a duck and quacks like a duck...it is a duck. The green kombucha was nasty. It completely changed color upon mixing (red flag one); it looked putrid after mixing (red flag two); it smelled terrible (red flag three); and finally, it tasted worse than the aloe vera juice that I tried a couple of years ago, which earned its own "tart ass" moniker (red flag four). Lesson learned. By the way, the reason I chugged it, if you haven't guessed it already, is because I am cheap. I spent $3.19 on that stuff and, by God, I was going to down it if it killed me. I also kept it down, although, for about 30 minutes after, I kind of felt like I was going to puke. Little too much information? Maybe, but that's what I am here for, folks. My pain is your gain and here is the message of the day: DON'T DRINK THE GREEN KOMBUCHA (unless you like that sort of thing - more for you, really). Stay tuned.