I've decided to give myself a food challenge. And what better way to keep me accountable than to blog about it?
It's a five ingredients or less challenge, for six months I will not buy anything that has more than five ingredients in it. I've mentioned my plan to a few people and have gotten a wide range of responses. Some people thinks it's awesome. Some people think I should probably be committed. There is a method to my madness though. I have food allergies, and luckily for me high fructose corn syrup is one of my allergies. I'm sure that even if you haven't seen the commercials promoting high fructose corn syrup, you know that it is put in seemingly, everything from bread to jam, spaghetti sauce to juices it is everywhere.
I'm not always successful at avoiding it. Sometimes a product changes their ingredients and I don't realize it until after the fact. I do read labels, but naively, I tend to think manufactures will not change their formulas.
I chose to go with five ingredients, so that I can still fuel my hot sauce addiction. I cannot imagine life without Tabasco sauce. The five ingredients limit also gives me a little leeway in buying a few ready to eat foods... Not many, but a few. I'm excited at the prospect of making my own sauces and breads.
Six months is my starting goal. I know that when Sweet Husband returns home, he'll want to go visit all of his favorite eating places, and I would like to go with him. Hopefully by the time he returns I'll have mastered bread and he'll look in disdain at conventional bread.... Hey, a girl can dream!
Of course, there are a few limitations. When traveling the five ingredient limit does not stand. I try to take bring travel foods along when we travel, but I've had better success in theory rather than practice so far. Return trips are the worst.
So watch out 2012!
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Friday, December 23, 2011
Sunday, August 7, 2011
We're going to the garden and we're goin' get dirty!
Lately we’ve been on a food hunt. We’ve really enjoyed visiting pick-your-own farms in our area, and picking our own fresh fruits. We decided to venture a little further out and we found a peach orchard with the most amazing peaches. We came home with a bushel and a half, and probably ate half a bushel while picking.
Not having internet has spurned me into new depths of pioneer-dom. I’ve gone back to my roots and started canning. I won’t lie, I slightly puffed with pride at the idea that I have stocked our pantry with enough jam to give us plenty of PB&J choices for the next year… Or at least 6 months.
Bonus points to me, as most of them are sugar-free jams. We have:
Agave peach Jam
Agave Cherry Jam
Strawberry Rhubarb jam
Strawberry jam
Agave Cherry-peach jam
Peach jam
When I got bored with jam I ventured into pickles chutneys and syrups. Oh, and an enormous amount of pasta sauce. I can almost smell a self-challenge coming on.
I have to admit. I really surprised myself.
Not having internet has spurned me into new depths of pioneer-dom. I’ve gone back to my roots and started canning. I won’t lie, I slightly puffed with pride at the idea that I have stocked our pantry with enough jam to give us plenty of PB&J choices for the next year… Or at least 6 months.
Bonus points to me, as most of them are sugar-free jams. We have:
Agave peach Jam
Agave Cherry Jam
Strawberry Rhubarb jam
Strawberry jam
Agave Cherry-peach jam
Peach jam
When I got bored with jam I ventured into pickles chutneys and syrups. Oh, and an enormous amount of pasta sauce. I can almost smell a self-challenge coming on.
I have to admit. I really surprised myself.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Our area was blessed with a "freak snowstorm" in February. The light dusting of snow that graced our vehicles was enough to send some people into a frantic panicked state. Alex had been praying for snow for over a year, so my sweet husband bundled the boy up and took him outside to try and collect enough snow to make a snowball. I snuggled into the papasan chair with a still very new baby.
It wasn't until a few weeks later that we realized the true implications of our "freak snowstorm". For the first time ever, I had planted my garden according to the timeframe printed on the back of the seed envelopes. I had spent several hours on my hands and knees digging and planting and all that other crazy stuff, while heavily pregnant. I felt a little closer to June Cleaver. During our cold snap, my little garden, which had begun to sprout, held on for dear life. Three weeks after the snow dusting came, we knew it was over. One small radish plant was the sole survivor.
Unfortunately, our radish suffered from PTSD, and was prone to horrific flashbacks of that fateful day. No amount of therapy seemed help. The final straw was when rogue sweet potatoes from last year's garden, pushed their leafy green sprouts through the soil. The lone radish, overcome with the unfairness of these events gave up the ghost.
Our garden this year, now consists of a bell pepper plant, mint and a lot of sweet potato foliage. Of course this is the year Alex has delevoped a burning curiosity about where our food comes from and how it is grown. We took him strawberry picking at a small hydroponic farm in a neighboring town.
It was love at first bite.
For all of us. We ended up leaving the farm with strawberries, tomatoes and basil. Oh, and plans to go back again!
It wasn't until a few weeks later that we realized the true implications of our "freak snowstorm". For the first time ever, I had planted my garden according to the timeframe printed on the back of the seed envelopes. I had spent several hours on my hands and knees digging and planting and all that other crazy stuff, while heavily pregnant. I felt a little closer to June Cleaver. During our cold snap, my little garden, which had begun to sprout, held on for dear life. Three weeks after the snow dusting came, we knew it was over. One small radish plant was the sole survivor.
Unfortunately, our radish suffered from PTSD, and was prone to horrific flashbacks of that fateful day. No amount of therapy seemed help. The final straw was when rogue sweet potatoes from last year's garden, pushed their leafy green sprouts through the soil. The lone radish, overcome with the unfairness of these events gave up the ghost.
Our garden this year, now consists of a bell pepper plant, mint and a lot of sweet potato foliage. Of course this is the year Alex has delevoped a burning curiosity about where our food comes from and how it is grown. We took him strawberry picking at a small hydroponic farm in a neighboring town.
It was love at first bite.
For all of us. We ended up leaving the farm with strawberries, tomatoes and basil. Oh, and plans to go back again!
Monday, June 27, 2011
Public Humiliation
Alright people. Things are about to get real.
Statistics show that with the increase of our household, there are 3.497 non-morning people abiding together in our home.
Generally we’ve learned to adapt to this fact of life and work around the malady. Unfortunately for Sundays, we don’t have our act completely polished yet. As, our entire congregation had witness a few weeks ago.
We had woken up late, yet somehow managed to arrive at church TWO WHOLE MINUTES before Sunday school. I fleetingly wondered how we had managed to shave off so much time, as we hustled to our seats.
We got all the way through Sunday school, and through the song service, when my stomach became an angry bi-polar storm. My eyes flew open in horror as I realized the secret to our punctuality- We hadn’t eaten breakfast. On cue Alex poked me. “I’m hungry” he pantomimed. I passed Spain off to the sweet husband and started riffling through the diaper bag while praying Please let there be snacks in here! . A single serve tube of peanuts sparkled at me from the bottom of the diaper bag. It was beautiful. Normally I would have made him wait until after the service, but I FORGOT to feed the poor child. I wasn’t going to make him wait it out.
I ripped a corner off the bag and handed the peanuts to Alex, and settled back in my seat thanking the Lord for that divine bag of legumes. At this point I have to interject and really set the scene here. We decided to sit in the balcony this particular Sunday. Unlike the rest of the sanctuary, our balcony is uncarpeted. And a there is slight echo for every sound made.
My revelry was interrupted by the crashing sound of legumes exploding over the balcony. Alex had tried to widen the hole in the bag, and the entire tube split in half, sending peanuts shooting out from between his hands like confetti. Have you ever heard a bag of marbles being dropped on a floor? Fun Fact #19: peanuts scattered along wooden floors and benches, in an echo-friendly area, sounds quite similar.
Of course the balcony had a large crowd that week. Six heads simultaneously turned to Alex, who sat in his seat with an impish grin on his face, holding the incriminating, tattered remains of the peanut tube. All I have to say is: THANK YOU GOD peanuts are easy to clean off of a wood floor.
From now on we may be late to church, but Alex will be feasting on three-course breakfasts.
Statistics show that with the increase of our household, there are 3.497 non-morning people abiding together in our home.
Generally we’ve learned to adapt to this fact of life and work around the malady. Unfortunately for Sundays, we don’t have our act completely polished yet. As, our entire congregation had witness a few weeks ago.
We had woken up late, yet somehow managed to arrive at church TWO WHOLE MINUTES before Sunday school. I fleetingly wondered how we had managed to shave off so much time, as we hustled to our seats.
We got all the way through Sunday school, and through the song service, when my stomach became an angry bi-polar storm. My eyes flew open in horror as I realized the secret to our punctuality- We hadn’t eaten breakfast. On cue Alex poked me. “I’m hungry” he pantomimed. I passed Spain off to the sweet husband and started riffling through the diaper bag while praying Please let there be snacks in here! . A single serve tube of peanuts sparkled at me from the bottom of the diaper bag. It was beautiful. Normally I would have made him wait until after the service, but I FORGOT to feed the poor child. I wasn’t going to make him wait it out.
I ripped a corner off the bag and handed the peanuts to Alex, and settled back in my seat thanking the Lord for that divine bag of legumes. At this point I have to interject and really set the scene here. We decided to sit in the balcony this particular Sunday. Unlike the rest of the sanctuary, our balcony is uncarpeted. And a there is slight echo for every sound made.
My revelry was interrupted by the crashing sound of legumes exploding over the balcony. Alex had tried to widen the hole in the bag, and the entire tube split in half, sending peanuts shooting out from between his hands like confetti. Have you ever heard a bag of marbles being dropped on a floor? Fun Fact #19: peanuts scattered along wooden floors and benches, in an echo-friendly area, sounds quite similar.
Of course the balcony had a large crowd that week. Six heads simultaneously turned to Alex, who sat in his seat with an impish grin on his face, holding the incriminating, tattered remains of the peanut tube. All I have to say is: THANK YOU GOD peanuts are easy to clean off of a wood floor.
From now on we may be late to church, but Alex will be feasting on three-course breakfasts.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Just one of those days
Today I ran around the city searching for a plain white t-shirt for Alex to wear. It's his costume for his recital tomorrow. We found white tanks, colored t-shirts, and white t-shirts in every size except Alex's.
Finally, my nerves got to me. Alex was trying to channel his inner shopping cart daredevil and send me into early heart failure. Spain needed a diaper change and couldn't decide whether or not he wanted to eat. Our choices were the tshirts that showed Alex's belly button or the shirts that covered his knees. I grabbed the shirt that went to knees, threw it in the cart and sped to the checkout lane as fast as I could.
When we were back at home, I tenatively started dinner. I was waiting for the sweet husband to call when he needed to be picked up from the office "camping trip".
Guess what's flammable-
Garlic bread.
Yup.
I stuck it under the broiler and set the timer. My brother called, and the next thing I know the garlic bread was on fire. It was like a huge vampire hating candle.
How long have I been cooking?
Finally, my nerves got to me. Alex was trying to channel his inner shopping cart daredevil and send me into early heart failure. Spain needed a diaper change and couldn't decide whether or not he wanted to eat. Our choices were the tshirts that showed Alex's belly button or the shirts that covered his knees. I grabbed the shirt that went to knees, threw it in the cart and sped to the checkout lane as fast as I could.
When we were back at home, I tenatively started dinner. I was waiting for the sweet husband to call when he needed to be picked up from the office "camping trip".
Guess what's flammable-
Garlic bread.
Yup.
I stuck it under the broiler and set the timer. My brother called, and the next thing I know the garlic bread was on fire. It was like a huge vampire hating candle.
How long have I been cooking?
Monday, October 25, 2010
Breakfast of champions
I love pancakes! I love they are so versatile, you can alter them to fit whatever mood you're in! But alas! Even with a "Just add water" mix I have a knack for messing pancakes up. In fact, the unofficial rule in our house is that the first two pancakes must be thrown away.
While visiting my parents in August, my mom whipped the most incredible pancakes. Her's came out somewhere between traditional pancake and crepe. Even though I was still in the throes of morning sickness, I couldn't help but at least half a dozen everytime she made them.
Before we returned home, I made sure that I had a copy of the recipe safely tucked away in the memory card of my cell phone. Camera phones do have several advantages!
Two things make these pancakes so special. The first is that you use fluffed up egg whites. I was a little concerned that this step might be too time consuming, since we have a small window for breakfast between PT and formation in the mornings, but as long as you aren't whipping your egg whites by hand, you should be fine.
The second thing is yogurt. The style of yogurt you use directly affects the thickness and texture of the pancakes. My mom used a thinner yogurt and her pancakes came out thinner and almost sponge-like on the inside. I like my yogurt thick. The thicker the yogurt the taller fluffier the pancake.
Yogurt Pancakes
3 eggs, separated
1/4 cup sugar
2 cups yogurt
1/4 melted butter
1 1/2 cups flour
1 tsp soda
2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
Beat egg whites. Mix beaten yolks, sugar, butter and yogurt. Add dry ingredients and mix well. Fold egg whites in the batter. Cook on a hot greased griddle.
When reverse bubbles begin appearing on the batter, it's time to flip the pancake.
These are fabulous with blueberries inside of them, or as we discovered this morning, with a homemade strawberry syrup.
Strawberry Syrup
1 cup water
1 cup sugar
1 1/2 cups frozen strawberries
Bring to a boil in a small sauce pan. Once the strawberries are thawed, mash with a vengence.
For a thicker syrup in a small bowl combine 1 heaping teaspoon cornstarch with 1 scant teaspoon cold water. Add to the boiling syrup and stir well.
Oh and for the record, I have never had to throw out the first two pancakes, since I converted to yogurt pancakes!
While visiting my parents in August, my mom whipped the most incredible pancakes. Her's came out somewhere between traditional pancake and crepe. Even though I was still in the throes of morning sickness, I couldn't help but at least half a dozen everytime she made them.
Before we returned home, I made sure that I had a copy of the recipe safely tucked away in the memory card of my cell phone. Camera phones do have several advantages!
Two things make these pancakes so special. The first is that you use fluffed up egg whites. I was a little concerned that this step might be too time consuming, since we have a small window for breakfast between PT and formation in the mornings, but as long as you aren't whipping your egg whites by hand, you should be fine.
The second thing is yogurt. The style of yogurt you use directly affects the thickness and texture of the pancakes. My mom used a thinner yogurt and her pancakes came out thinner and almost sponge-like on the inside. I like my yogurt thick. The thicker the yogurt the taller fluffier the pancake.
Yogurt Pancakes
3 eggs, separated
1/4 cup sugar
2 cups yogurt
1/4 melted butter
1 1/2 cups flour
1 tsp soda
2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
Beat egg whites. Mix beaten yolks, sugar, butter and yogurt. Add dry ingredients and mix well. Fold egg whites in the batter. Cook on a hot greased griddle.
When reverse bubbles begin appearing on the batter, it's time to flip the pancake.
These are fabulous with blueberries inside of them, or as we discovered this morning, with a homemade strawberry syrup.
Strawberry Syrup
1 cup water
1 cup sugar
1 1/2 cups frozen strawberries
Bring to a boil in a small sauce pan. Once the strawberries are thawed, mash with a vengence.
For a thicker syrup in a small bowl combine 1 heaping teaspoon cornstarch with 1 scant teaspoon cold water. Add to the boiling syrup and stir well.
Oh and for the record, I have never had to throw out the first two pancakes, since I converted to yogurt pancakes!
Thursday, October 21, 2010
I also need a small break from the kitchen.
In a progressive move of "Clearing out the freezers 2010", I pulled a roasting chicken out of the freezer and threw it in the crockpot before bed. It cooked all night on low, and then when I woke up I threw in some sweet potatoes, celery and an onion, and left it alone for a few hours.
When I pulled the bird out and deboned it. The small pieces went back into the crock for chicken soup and the main body of the bird was sectioned into 4 oz pieces to make some free-carb freezer meals for that cute husband I am so fond of.
There was a full crock of chicken soup, and since I am not eating meat, I wanted to do something with it. So Alex and I made a chicken pot pie. The very first completely from scratch pot pie I have ever made. I made a second smaller veggie pot pie for myself, and I have to admit it did put the freezer pot pies to shame.
I realized later, while I did remove a chicken from the freezer, I replaced it with single servings of:
Chicken Florentine
Chicken Marinara
Enchilada'd Chicken
Smothered Chicken
So I guess it's one step forward one step backward for "Clearing out the freezer 2010".
In a progressive move of "Clearing out the freezers 2010", I pulled a roasting chicken out of the freezer and threw it in the crockpot before bed. It cooked all night on low, and then when I woke up I threw in some sweet potatoes, celery and an onion, and left it alone for a few hours.
When I pulled the bird out and deboned it. The small pieces went back into the crock for chicken soup and the main body of the bird was sectioned into 4 oz pieces to make some free-carb freezer meals for that cute husband I am so fond of.
There was a full crock of chicken soup, and since I am not eating meat, I wanted to do something with it. So Alex and I made a chicken pot pie. The very first completely from scratch pot pie I have ever made. I made a second smaller veggie pot pie for myself, and I have to admit it did put the freezer pot pies to shame.
I realized later, while I did remove a chicken from the freezer, I replaced it with single servings of:
Chicken Florentine
Chicken Marinara
Enchilada'd Chicken
Smothered Chicken
So I guess it's one step forward one step backward for "Clearing out the freezer 2010".
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Score 1 for the Papaya
My favorite section in the grocery store, is without a doubt the produce section. Thankfully our household is full of avid produce eaters. Occasionally we still have produce turn a little faster than we can eat it.
Like the papaya. I have never aquired a taste for papaya. Every couple years I buy one to make sure I'm still not a fan, and so far my tastes haven't changed.
My husband picked up a papaya at the grocery store on Sunday, and it's been sitting on the counter taunting me. Everytime I walk into the kitchen I'm confronted by the huge oblong shape of a papaya just waiting to meet it's destiny.
Today I finally gathered my moxy, and chopped that tropical fruit into small pieces, I threw half of it into the blender with a couple pears, a banana, a peach and a handful of frozen strawberries. A little fake milk to help it blend and voila! I made a smoothie. A smoothie that I had every intention of feeding to small children so I didn't have to drink it.
Except my conscience started bothering me. Apparently I had to try some to get Jiminy Cricket of my back.
Would you believe it, I really enjoyed the smoothie!
I think I drank half it!
So apparently all I needed was a lot of other flavors to help mask the taste, and I'm good to go.
Who knew?
Like the papaya. I have never aquired a taste for papaya. Every couple years I buy one to make sure I'm still not a fan, and so far my tastes haven't changed.
My husband picked up a papaya at the grocery store on Sunday, and it's been sitting on the counter taunting me. Everytime I walk into the kitchen I'm confronted by the huge oblong shape of a papaya just waiting to meet it's destiny.
Today I finally gathered my moxy, and chopped that tropical fruit into small pieces, I threw half of it into the blender with a couple pears, a banana, a peach and a handful of frozen strawberries. A little fake milk to help it blend and voila! I made a smoothie. A smoothie that I had every intention of feeding to small children so I didn't have to drink it.
Except my conscience started bothering me. Apparently I had to try some to get Jiminy Cricket of my back.
Would you believe it, I really enjoyed the smoothie!
I think I drank half it!
So apparently all I needed was a lot of other flavors to help mask the taste, and I'm good to go.
Who knew?