A Year of Cooking Genealogically, Round Steak with Onions

And we're back at it, this time with our original cookbook author, Kate (as determined by her distinctive handwriting).  This recipe seemed fairly straightforward and I felt it was time to plunge into an entree.

Ingredients
3 lbs. round steak
6 onions, sliced thing
1 tbs dripping*
1 " flour
2 " vinegar
3 springs parsley** & a bay leaf
1 pint boiling water - salt and pepper

Directions
Beat steak with a potato masher*** - Put dripping in a deep fy pan and when hot, add onions.  Put in steak dredged with flour, salt and pepper.  Cover closely, simmer on a hot fire for a minute, then turn steak.  Add other seasonings, lower fire and simmer gently for two hours. Very good and very cheap.

*I used bacon fat drippings
**No fresh parsley, but I did have tarragon and used that instead.
***haven't had a potato masher in years.  I used a meat mallet instead.  While it might have felt I was solving world problems whacking that steak, I mostly got a good workout.

I ended up with top round steak.  Other than the shape, what exactly is round steak?  Wikipedia tells us that "a round steak is a beef steak from the "round"(duh), the rear leg of the cow. The round is divided into cuts including the eye (of) round, bottom round, and top round, with or without the "round" bone (femur), and may include the knuckle (sirloin tip), depending on how the round is separated from the loin. This is a lean cut and it is moderately tough. Round steak is commonly prepared with slow moist-heat methods including braising, to tenderize the meat and maintain moisture."  [Side note: For all you baby boomers like me, 'cube steak' from our childhood is pre-tenderized round steak.]  So far it looks like Kate is spot on her cooking method with this cut of meat.  But as to the 'very cheap' comment, well, Kate, beef might have been cheap in your day but at today's prices, 3 pounds of round steak runs close to 20 bucks. I'm reluctant to just waste that kind of money for a blog that maybe 5 people are reading, so I went slightly against my own rules and used homemade beef stock instead of boiling water to create the roux. Before I added the beef stock, I sweated (sweat? any grammar experts out there?) the onions in bacon grease (honestly, Pam Spray has nothing on bacon grease in the flavor department), plopped the beaten, seasoned and dredged steak on top of the onions, tossed in the tarragon and bay leaf, poured in the stock, on went the lid, and the timer was set for two hours.  Pretty easy, minimal prep, but truly, all I could think was how much faster this recipe would be done in my instant pot.

After a day spent watching the world's perfect grandson, with whom I took turns whacking the steak, I invited favorite daughter and SIL to dinner.  I did tell them they'd be guinea pigs for this recipe - but I didn't tell them what the recipe actually was in the invite (bwahaha).  It only took five minutes after picky eater favorite daughter hit the door to ask what I was cooking.  And surprise, surprise! It turns out round steak with onions is rather tasty, and she actually ate it (I owe you one, SIL - marriage has been good for her pickiness).  For my palate, the recipe definitely needs more seasoning - garlic, perhaps.  The final product reminds me of Swiss Steak, but the addition of vinegar was the real wild card, and added a nice zingy-ness. The finished dish was fork tender and made into sandwiches on crusty french bread.  You can't beat that.

So, verdict?  Everyone thought it was good except the perfect grandchild who refused to eat anything.  I would make it again but probably in the instant pot, and I would definitely amp up the seasoning.

Next week?  Back to baking...Dun Dun Dun!

A Year of Cooking Genealogically, Beet Relish

Hello again!  After back to back trips to Florida and California, with Cincinnati Beerfest squeezed in between, I'm back at it sporting the head cold from hell, courtesy of all those planes, trains, and automobiles.  It's the usual Cincinnati weather, gray skies, gray clouds, with a dash of gray to color it all, so what better time to tackle another recipe, while listening to the hammering of our new siding going up?  Side note: with my failing hearing and the added hurdle of a head cold, I'm constantly thinking someone is knocking at the door, so I'm trying to ignore it.  If you're really here and I don't answer, sorry, just keep pounding.

On to the next recipe, beet relish.  I personally love beets, pickled beets in particular.  My mother made her own pickled beets and would add peeled hard boiled eggs to the pickling juice.  The eggs would turn a beautiful purple color and were great additions to a salad.  But I digress.  I've eaten a lot of relishes, but I can say that I never had this version.  

Ingredients

1 qt cooked beets, chopped fine

1 qt raw cabbage, "

1 scant cup horseradish chopped or ground

1 tsp black pepper

1 sweet green pepper, chopped

2 or 3 heads of celery*

1 heaping tblsp salt

2 cups white vinegar

Directions

Cover with cold cider vinegar

And that's it.  Pretty simple, right? I made a couple of executive decisions.  I used canned beets, 3 drained cans worth, and green cabbage, as the heads were smaller at Kroger - the red would be prettier, but the heads were gargantuan.  I was a little stumped by three heads of celery, I mean 3 heads of celery is a damned lot of celery - so I made the executive decision to use just 3 stalks.  Finally, it calls for white vinegar but then mentions cider vinegar.  I used white because it was what I had on hand.  Lastly, about all that chopping...yeah.  I debated the authenticity angle and then thought, screw it, and pulled out my food processor.  I used the shredder attachment for everything except the celery, for which I used the slicer.  I did chop the pepper by hand.  And that was quite enough, thank you.  

So, this is the finished product.  It is quite tart, a bit salty, somewhat inexpensive for the large quantity made, and something of a question mark. What exactly do you do with this quantity of relish except perhaps as an offering at a picnic, especially when DH reminds you that he doesn't like beets ?  And is it my imagination or does the handwriting look different for this recipe than the others?  More on that in a minute.  As to the relish, I was initially torn.  I'm reluctant to pitch the whole thing, but the "balance" of the recipe doesn't taste right.  On scouring the Google, I have found similar archival recipes, and they almost all call for a certain amount of sweetness (such as sugar). Considering the recipe in it's current state was practically inedible, hot and vinegary, I added a cup and 1/2 of sugar, and let it sit for a day.  I then remembered that while DH doesn't like beets, SIL LOVES them. He pronounced it delicious, one of the best he'd had - and being Polish by birth, he's had a lot of beet relishes.  He took the entire bowl, ostensibly to share with his brother - but I doubt it will last that long.  Talk about your fiber!

I'm guessing that if you're a canner, this would be a great recipe to hot pack - heat the vinegar, pepper and sugar, pour over the veggies and pack into sterilized jars, much like a sauerkraut.  The Big Blue Book of Ball canning does have a beet relish recipe, but it calls for cooking and processing, which would degrade the freshness of the veggies, I think.  Would I make this again?  Depends on how much the SIL begs for it - but considering he's pretty handy in the kitchen, I'm thinking he can manage it himself.

Verdict: Interesting, but needed additions to make it palatable.  For me, I don't think this will be a repeat recipe.  

As to the handwriting, I realized that this belongs to my Uncle Ray Cunningham.  I believe that he and possibly his mother Ruth added their own favorite recipes to the book.  I'll do a bit of research and see if I can attribute specific recipes to their respective writers.  Stay tuned...

Next week - an entree!  Some of these are real doozys...stay tuned!

A Year of Cooking Genealogically, Brown Bread (Belle) OR "When is a Pound no longer a Pound?"

Good morning!  I decided to go to the front of the book to make my progression easier.  Having said that though, I will choose to cook seasonally if the recipe ingredients are more readily available at different times of the year.  This is the first recipe in the journal, and I began prepping for it 6 days ago.  You might be wondering what recipe with only 10 ingredients would require such a long prep time?  Well, as usual, one ingredient, "Graham Flour" isn't available in my area.  Even Jungle Jim's International Market, a foodie paradise with 180,000 items (that's HUNDRED THOUSAND, folks) doesn't carry it, and honestly, I thought they had everything.  Once again though, Amazon Prime rides to the rescue!

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Side note:  Graham Flour is not made from ground up graham crackers or the flour used in making graham crackers (and yes, I did wonder if that was it's composition).  According to Wikipedia, Graham flour is a type of flour named after Sylvester Graham (1794–1851), an early advocate for dietary reform. Graham despised the discarding of nutrients such as germ and bran when making flour for white bread and believed that using all of the grain in the milling of flour and baking of bread was a remedy for the poor health of his fellow Americans during changes in diet brought on by the Industrial Revolution. Graham flour is similar to whole wheat flour in that both are made from the whole grain; however, graham flour is not sifted during milling (i.e. unbolted) and is ground more coarsely. Turns out Sylvester was a health nut ahead of his time.

Ingredients:
2 cups white flour sifted with 1/2 teaspoon salt & 2 teaspoons soda*

*Henceforth, going forward "Soda" will be forevermore baking soda

2nd
2 cups graham flour (see above)
1 cup sugar
1 cup raisins

1/2 cup molasses
2 eggs
2 cups sour milk***
2 tablespoons melted lard

***To make 1 cup (250 mL) sour milk for baking, use 1 tbsp (15 mL) vinegar or lemon juice and enough milk to equal 1 cup (250 mL). Stir and let stand for 5 minutes before using.  I am using 2% milk, though my guess is that this recipe used whole milk.  Spoiled milk is unsafe to use (duh).  

Once the ingredient list was managed, the real drama started.

Instructions:
Beat together (Executive decision assumes this means the 3rd set of ingredients).  Add 1st mixture and beat well.  Add 2nd mixture when well mixed divide in 3 coffee tins.  Bake at 350 degrees (hooray, a temperature!  But no time, boo).

But wait - coffee tins?  Do manufacturers even sell coffee in cans anymore?  (short answer, yes - Chock Full O' Nuts.  Most are cardboard or plastic.) Not that the idea of cooking in a coffee can is foreign to me; my mother used to steam her Christmas puddings in Folgers one pound coffee cans.  But this instruction has really slowed me down, not only for the scarcity of the can, but the lack of original size, too.  Anyone who has shopped in the last century knows that packaging is decreasing while prices are increasing.  The Boston Globe has a great article on this very (touchy) subject - read it here.

Case in point - I scored these big coffee cans by beg, borrowing and stealing from friends.  The red Folger can is 3 pounds, even.  The middle Maxwell House can is 2 lbs, 7 oz, and the right Maxwell House is 2 lbs, 1 oz, a full 15 ounces less (and it's plastic to boot).  And damn, does that print get smaller and smaller, too, and it isn't just the bifocals needed, folks!  Even the small seemingly 1 pound Master Blend can (pictured right and I'm guessing the size I'm seeking) is actually only 13 ounces, down to 11.5 currently.

So you might be asking why this matters.  Well, for anyone who has ever dusted off an older relatives recipe, the 'can' or 'bag' or 'package' or even cooking container called for is in all certainty not going to be the same proportion and probably a much smaller amount than is required.  And baking is just darned finicky enough to require correct proportions to turn out right.  Finally, I'd like my attempts to replicate these recipes to be as authentic as possible.

After weighing many options I decided to use the smaller coffee can (for authenticity sake) and just two glass loaf pans for the remainder of the batter.  I generously sprayed them with Pam Spray, as the batter has the consistency of cake rather than a traditional bread (even though greasing is not called for).  I placed all three in a 350 oven for 30 minutes (no time was given), and began testing for done-ness.  It became apparent that the cook time would be more along an hour, though in retrospect the glass pans appeared to set more quickly than the coffee tin - surprising, given the thinness of the metal.  The coffee tin bread set very well, staying moist.  The exposed loaf pan loaves are denser and probably a bit overbaked.  Sorry for the um, suggestive loaf shot above, but I was trying to show the rings around the tin loaf, supposedly a hallmark of authentic brown bread.

While the bread was baking, I was off to question The Google. According to Wikipedia,

New England or Boston brown bread is a type of dark, slightly sweet steamed bread (usually a quick bread) popular in New England. It is cooked by steam in a can, or cylindrical pan.  Boston brown bread's color comes from a mixture of flours, usually a mix of several of the following: cornmeal, rye, whole wheat, graham flour, and from the addition of sweeteners like molasses and maple syrup. Leavening most often comes from baking soda (sodium bicarbonate) though a few recipes use yeast. Raisins are often added. The batter is poured into a can and steamed in a kettle. Brown bread is somewhat seasonal, being served mostly in fall and winter, and is frequently served with baked beans. (Baked beans and raisins?  Really?  Hmmmm.....)

As for my little journal, I have yet to figure out who Belle is, genealogically, or why a New England staple would feature in this book, as we have no ancestral connection to the area.  I will say that brown bread was a hallmark of a poor family (despite the better nutritional impact of the flour), and my family along that thread of family tree were farmers, so the recipe fits from that aspect.  Most importantly, the bread is freaking delicious and I would definitely make it again, this time steaming it instead.  And because DH LOVES them, I'll probably serve it with baked beans, too.

A Year of Cooking Genealogically, Matrimonial Cake

I have to admit I was as much intrigued by the name and description of the cake as the recipe itself.  The text reads "Probably you have this already but if not it's worth making.  I think it must owe its name to the fact that any beau to who it's served keeps coming back for more".  Admittedly my first inclination was to run for the Google and look up the history of Matrimonial Cake.  But I held off, and decided to give this recipe a whirl.  Please note, this is not the first entry in the book, but I did have all the ingredients on hand, so it gets first billing.

On to the recipe:

1 1/2 cups rolled oats*
1 1/2 cups white flour
1/2 cup butter**
1 cup brown sugar
 1 teaspoon soda***

*Doesn't specify quick or long cooking; I used quick as I had it on hand
**Salted stick sweet cream butter
**Executive decision decided that soda is Baking Soda

Instructions read "Mix these thoroly (don't think that milk has been accidentally omitted - it's a dry mixture)"

1 pkg dates, stoned & cut*
1 cup white sugar
1/2 cup water

*Executive decision meant using an 8 ounce packaged of dates that I chopped into a small dice

Instructions read "Boil until thick"

Final instructions read "Put half the dry mixture in a pan & spread with date mixture - cover with the other half and bake till a nut brown".

So, artistic cooking license was required here in several places.  There is no reference to the size of the pan, so I used an 8 x 12 ceramic baking dish.  There is no recommendation for buttering the dish, but I did take the modern route and sprayed it with cooking spray.  Finally, there is no recommendation about oven temperature or baking time.  I decided to go with 325 convection for 30 minutes. 

I could tell after assembling the dual ingredients that this was 'cake' in name only, and more resembled a date cookie bar.  In the future I will do more to document the steps of baking for your faithful reading reference, but the final product looks like this. A chewy bar type cookie that is not too sweet and really freakin delicious.  I think, given the ingredient proportions that I might have gone with a smaller 9 x 9 baking pan.  While tasty, the topping was a bit dry.  But my guesses on the baking time were correct, and it was completely necessary to butter or spray the dish.  I would probably increase the amount of dates to a pound to increase the filling to topping ratio.

I was intrigued by the name Matrimonial Cake, so once I was finished baking, I checked Google for the history.  Wikipedia defines it as "A date square (that) is a Canadian dessert or coffee cake made of cooked dates and with an oatmeal crumb topping. In Western Canada it is known as Matrimonial Cake. It is often found in coffee shops as a sweet snack food. There can be nuts added to the base layer or crumb topping. There can be candied peel added to the date stuffing for a contrasting texture."  The two blogs below give their guesses on the background on the cake's meaning, though there isn't a definitive answer.

http://www.theoldfoodie.com/2008/07/matrimonial-cake.html 
http://www.littlegraybird.ca/littlegraybird/2011/4/18/matrimonial-cake.html

My theory as to why it appears in my little book is noted in the The Old Foodie blog, stating that the recipe appeared in the 1933's in Ohio.  Given the fact that my relatives are from Northeastern and Middle Ohio, this guess fits as well as any.  Kate's description works for my beau; DH proclaimed them delicious and would definitely 'come back for more'!

A Year of Cooking Genalogically, Intro

I find it hard to believe, but 10 years ago this January 2018, my one-hell-of-a mother passed away after just 79 short years of gracing this earth with her wit and wisdom.  Just 5 months later in May, her beloved cousin Ray died, too.  In the twisted roots that make up my family tree, Ray was my mothers mother's cousin - but to my mom and my sisters and I, Ray was much like a brother and uncle.  Ray was a single man, never married, and both he and my mother were only children, so two family deaths in such close calendar proximity meant that the disposal of two household worth of lives well lived fell to my sisters and me; actually mostly to my middle sister Claudia.  As with most families not named "Hilton" or "Kennedy", items left behind were comprised of the expected and loved (pictures and family heirlooms, such as china and furniture), and the not so expected and problematic, of which I'll spare you the details.

As can often happen in these situations, decisions are made pretty much on the spot.  Keep this, discard that, donate a lot, and dispose of a lot more.  In retrospect, there is always a tinge of regret in what is kept and what is not, and only time can sharpen that distinction.  But occasionally you find a diamond in the rough, so to speak.  A piece of time that might be tossed in a box and stuck away for later (and in this case) much later disposition.

I discovered one such item when going through a box of old papers, tucked in the crawlspace of our basement, a subterranean wonderland that has accumulated 27 years of toys, furniture, papers, pictures, spiders and dust bunnies of gargantuan proportions.  This pocket sized journal was included in items from Ray's home.  After some searching through the fragile pages, I found this dedication page.  The text reads: "Ruth, I've put in only recipes that I use every day and know are good.  I hope that at least a few of them are new to you and that you find them useful. Kate"

Immediately, my curiosity was piqued.  Ruth is Ray's mother, Ruth Ramsire, born 1900, died 1991.  But I have no idea who Kate is - in all my family research, it isn't a name that is familiar.  She might not even be a relative, though she does know Leslie Coe Butler, my great-great uncle, referring to him in one of the recipes in the book.  Beyond that page, there is no other reference as to who this cookbook author might be.  The pages are fragile and the book binding is beginning to come apart.  Upon the advice of DH Rob, I've decided to scan the pages of the book that are written on.  And just for the absolute fun of it, I've decided to cook the recipes contained within.

Now you might be thinking to yourself, big deal.  Recipes abound on the internet.  And you'd be right.  But what makes these recipes unique, besides the family connection are their instructions.  Or lack thereof.  As you'll see going forward, many of the recipes come with 'sparse' details.  There are no oven temperatures, though occasionally Kate calls for a moderate oven.  Of course, there are no pictures included, so the outcome can be left to the imagination.  Some ingredients will require ordering from Amazon.  Some recipes lack for specific measurements, and in those cases I will just use a best judgement going forward.  And while some recipes sound delicious, others leave me wondering what the outcome will be.  Prune Whip, I'm looking at you.

To make this exercise as authentic as I can, I've set some ground rules going forward.

1. I will use the ingredients listed unless they're no longer available on the commercial market.  
2. I will do my best to decipher the ingredients listed, but may have to take poetic license with spelling and printing.  
3. I might scale down the size of some recipes though, as I'm not sure if I want to tackle a 'peck' of cucumbers. 
4. I will not google recipes ahead of time, as I suspect many similar versions can be found online. 
5. Instead I will document decisions I make in the execution of the recipes, especially when instructions are lacking.  
6. I will dutifully document the success and failures of what I make.  

Finally, I will share whatever information I discover through genealogy research of Kate and her recipes.  Ride through the past with me to see what some of my ancestors enjoyed eating.

An Engineer's Expression of Love

So.  I once heard an acquaintance relate the following story after Valentine’s Day.

          

She: “HE (meaning her husband) won’t EVER buy me an appliance for any holiday ever again after our little “chat” last week!”, she said, smirking as she lifted her wrist to show new diamond tennis bracelet.  Chorus of other women present, heads nodding:  “You go, girl!  Right on! Amen, sister!”

And I remember thinking - Wow! If I said that to hubby, I wouldn't get nuthin at all, and I’d most likely make him cry.

Yes.  I married an Engineer.

Engineers are like the 3rd round draft pick in the gene pool.  Solid.  Dependable.  Not too flashy.  Great fathers.  Good providers.  Engineers are the mid-sized sedan, or a minivan with power windows, but not heated seats.  They’re like the Schnauzers – cute, but not too cute; fiercely loyal and independent.  Their haircuts mean they don’t shed (the engineers, I mean).  And oh, can they fix stuff; like a broken knife sharpener purchased for under $10 dollars 23 years ago; because hey, who would want to buy a new one when, with a little duct tape and some paper clips, the fixed one will last at least another week or so?!

Well, maybe I am being a bit harsh.  I’ve received flowers and chocolates on Balentimes Day before.  Just, you know, not every year, or maybe decade.  And jewelry to an engineer is ‘so cliche, so expected’...or so I’m told.  On the other hand, hubby always finds the perfect greeting card and is good for a beer and some appetizers at the local bar.  And a reminder that he did just install the new garbage disposal in the kitchen, just sayin'.  A true expression of an engineers' love.  Especially when he doesn't mention the fork that was jammed in the old one.

He insists that because he doesn't lavish me with romantic gifts every year, it makes the times he does just that more special.  I’m pretty sure that this statement is also Newton’s Third Principle of Diminishing Returns or some other engineering credo.  An engineer’s pocket protector might come out of an engineer’s shirt each night, but the mindset goes with him permanently.

Okay, true confessions time.  Do I secretly long for a jeweled surprise in a velvet box? Sigh, maybe.  Alright, hell yes.  I know I would enjoy an arm full of yellow roses, too many to count, or maybe just the petals sprinkled around the house, candles lit, and to be served an amazing dinner accompanied by a seriously excellent martini.  Can I hope that maybe that he’ll whisk me away on a weekend trip that he planned?  Well, this year he’s taking me for an overnight to Toledo in order to celebrate brat #3’s birthday – does that count?  (In an engineer's world, the answer is yes.)

In reality, will I like my new vacuum and use it often?  Sigh.  Of course, I will.

So to all you ladies whose Valentine’s Day gifts will come in boxes stamped “Rival”, “Kitchen Aid” and “Presto”; who’s hubby can fix, repair, and replace faster that the speed of light, and who's idea of 'let's go shopping' is a trip to the hardware store; to all those whose lifetime loves are solid and dependable vs. impetuous and ‘romantical’; whose Valentine’s Day cards will have words that rhyme with ‘beer’ and ‘remote’; I offer this classic expression of love, better than Hallmark, and etched on an engineer’s heart and in his actions (but would never pass his lips because it’s you know, poetry):

How Do I Love Thee?

by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

I love thee to the level of every day’s

Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.

I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;

I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.

I love thee with the passion put to use

In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints,--I love thee with the breath,

Smiles, tears, of all my life!--and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death.

Sugar is sweet

Saying the word “diet” in January has become so commonplace, it borders on cliché (props to Leonard’s mom on the Big Bang Theory for such a great line).  Post January 1^st, friends flout their weight loss journeys on social media, the fat free/sugar free/mostly bags of puffed air aisles of the grocery store are empty, gym memberships soar, and everyone you know is engaged in the battle of the bulge. Collectively, all us fluffy people unite in an “I’m gonna DO this” mantra at the start of each year that sadly and usually wilts under the oily glare of a deep fried Super Bowl snack wonderland.   And, well, I’m no exception.  To quote the late, great writer Erma Bombeck, “I’vebeen on a constant diet for the last two decades.  I’ve lost a total of 789 pounds.  By all accounts, I should be hanging from acharm bracelet.”  

Amen, sister.

Of course hubby is a genetic freak who has never weighed more than 6.3 pounds over or below what he weighed in college.  Every so often, he will weigh himself, step from the scale, place his hands on his waist (he has no hips or ass to speak of), shake his head and mutter that he needs to lose ‘a few pounds’.  His ritual of losing weight involves looking very serious, closing his eyes for a few minutes, flexing all his muscles real hard, at which point 5 pounds drops from some unseen part of his body, where it lays quivering on the floor for a few seconds.  And then, like the crab creature in the movie “Alien”, it scuttles across the floor and attaches itself to my thigh, where it refuses to let go. 

Okay, this January, as I stared back at the chaos of 2014 – weddings – showers – graduations – funerals – as well as periods of just feeling like crud - I simply couldn't bring myself to pick from one of the A (Atkins) to W (Weight Watcher) diet programs that line my book shelf.  You could say I’m a diet program connoisseur – I’ve probably sampled them all.  But not this year.  So, the food scale sits dusty.  The Points book/Calorie Counter is still tucked away.  My gym membership key card is in pristine, underused condition.  And the great pantry conversion of chips and cookies to carrot and celery just didn’t happen.

Well, if you’re a woman over a certain age, say 50, extra weight messes with you in ways you didn’t expect.  Aches and pains settle in and refuse to leave, despite Advil and red wine.  Flexibility becomes non-existent – ‘Wait, you want me to TOUCH my toes?  How about I just glance in their general direction?’  Your fasting blood work resembles the Wall Street ticker after a crash – values that are supposed to be low are high, values that are supposed to be high are low, and you’re in a coffee-less, cruller-less stupor from the required fasting that takes hours to recover from.  You find yourself marking “X”s on the calendar, counting down the few years left until you’re exempt from the Lenten fasting requirements.  And lastly, courtesy of MENopause, fat takes on that stubborn, bitchy, lack of sleep attitude you have after “sweating because you’re oldies hot flashes” night after night.  Extra chubbiness now just sort of looks back at you with an insolent “What? Leave? Make me.” cheekiness when you pick the ‘fat burning’ program on the Exercycle. 

But when during that glorious, painful, yearly checkup known as the physical the doctor begins to look at your chart, look up at you, look down at your chart, and back up at you, while muttering increasingly concerned “hmmms”, you realize he isn't worried about making his tee time and you slowly understand the hammer is coming.  Despite your best efforts to distract your doc - "Look, a wart!" - its that awkward time to talk about your weight. Blech.

So, while at the GI doc’s office, I spotted an article on sugar, processed food, and obesity.   Nutritionists tell you that the average American consumes 20 added, unseen teaspoons of sugar in their diet every day.  Ever wonder what 20 teaspoons looks like?  (I didn't either, but here you go anyway)

Hidden sugar?  It’s in everything.  Don’t believe me?  Check your pantry and labels.  What the…what fun is it if you can’t actually enjoy the sugar you’re eating?  To quote my kids, ‘that’s not fair!’  The American Heart Association recommends women eat no more than 6 added teaspoons of sugar every day.  Big difference.

And so I started some simple steps to begin carving extra sugar out of my diet.  Notice I did not say I stopped consuming any piece of sugar anywhere.  We all know how well cold turkey works…it simply doesn't.  And it turns out that real food contains sugar – fruits, vegetables, dairy products and dairy replacements, eggs, alcohol and nuts contain a certain level of sugars.  No fruits or veggies?  No wine?!? Um, no.  But me, like probably everyone else in the Western Hemisphere, has become conditioned to the taste of over sweetened food.  Splenda is 300 times sweeter than sugar. 

Well – light bulb time.  Maybe I should just eat real food and drink real water.  And exercise more.  OK, maybe more isn't the right word in describing exercise; maybe ‘start’ is more truthful.  Sounds easy, right?  Simple math.

           

            Healthy Eating + Regular Exercise = Healthy Weight

Except I suck at math – and added sugars, particularly in processed food is in every part of my diet – pretty much like every American’s diet.  Maybe this ain't gonna be so easy, after all.

But, the doctor’s look at my last physical spurs me onward (fear can be such a motivator), so I started with a simple rule: don’t drink calories or more specifically, don’t drink ‘empty calories/empty sugars’.  Farewell fruit juice, so long Diet Coke and Crystal Light.  Wait, Diet Coke…Crystal Light - they’re sugar free, right?  Yes, they are.  But there are recent studies that show large consumption of artificial sweeteners MAY induce a glucose intolerance response by messing with gut bacteria in certain people.  And it would just go figure that I could be possibly be one of those certain people. 

So honestly, it was time to reintroduce my taste buds to the taste of same old, plain old water.  DAY-UM.  No lie, this has been hard.  It turns out that while I was drinking a lot of fluid, very little of it was just water.  And let’s not kid ourselves, peeps – association eating is everything.  You know what I mean – a slice of pizza, even a healthy slice of homemade pizza SCREAMS for a fizzy soda product to wash it down.  I had also been conditioning myself to think water has to have flavor, hence the craving for Crystal Light.  Sometimes breaking through those mental connections can be the hardest part of any diet.  And yes, peeps, I’m owning the word diet.  Everyone is on a diet – some healthy, some not.  But no more shying away from the word.

OK, it’s February now.  The hoopla surrounding January/resolution/diet craze has faded.  It’s even past Groundhog Day, for which the movie of the same name could sort of describe my past failed weight loss attempts – reliving the same diet, again and again.  But it’s been 4 weeks, and I’ve made and maintained some changes.  Have I lost 50 pounds?  I wish.  Am I alternating high impact aerobics with a spinning class and some YOGA tossed in?  Not hardly.  But I AM thinking more about what I’m eating, and I’m even thinking more about exercise.  And I’m thinking – hoping – planning that this time, and maybe only this time, simple math might just be the answer. Can't believe I said math was the answer...