Food Porn

Exactly three months ago today, I was sitting in the OR having my guts rearranged like some freaky science experiment. I have been doing a lot of thinking about that today – first because I had to go and give my 17 vials of blood for post-op testing (have to be sure I’m getting enough nutrients) and also because as a historian I just can’t miss an opportunity to ponder the past. It has been an interesting ride since the surgery, to say the very least. Eating is now a daily chore, a source of fuel but rarely of enjoyment – which, I guess, is a good thing considering how much I relied on food as comfort and love pre-surgery.

One of the most interesting things that I have learned on my new journey towards becoming thin and healthy is that the bariatric surgery community is its own unique subculture, full of people who can openly share experiences that others won’t understand. The community even has its own distinct language. Vocabulary words like “pouch” (the new stomach formation) and “nut” (short for nutritionist) and “sliders” (foods that go down too easily and can cause overeating or lapses into old food habits) are just some of the new lexicon.

One of my favorite new phrases is “food porn.” I think this one actually should take off in the world at large, since every person I know has one or two food items that they would enjoy seeing made in a television show or a recipe online.  It goes beyond a lukewarm “hey, I really like that _____ (fill in the food name here)” into a lustful, passionate, “oh my god I must have that NOW” sort of feeling.  It’s the food that causes you to want to lick the television screen if you see a commercial for it.

Interestingly, I was very concerned before my surgery that this kind of food porn (especially with sweets – pies, cakes, cookies, etc.) would drive me absolutely insane. In the first few weeks after my surgery, during my recovery period at home when, at first I couldn’t drive (drugs were too good) and then later when there were few non-food events that I wanted to attend, food commercials and cooking shows DID drive me towards distraction – but NOT for the sweets. I could have cared less for all the wonderful Halloween candy commercials or Thanksgiving dessert shows. It was the protein sources that were and are the biggest cause of stress for. Outback Steakhouse commercials, for example, are especially painful. Sure, the other ‘junk’ I used to eat (donuts, pizza, mozzarella sticks) occasionally appear before me like the evil temptors that they are – but its the images of chicken, beef, and pork that haunt my days and nights.

In my usual contrary way, though, the Food Porn is what has kept me sane through the last 3 months. Nowadays, when I am feeling especially low, I will turn on a cooking show or desperately search the internet for a recipe. I don’t know if this is so I can pretend that I live a normal life again or if its simply some for of masochistic torture for my stomach. Whatever the psychology behind it, looking at food pictures and recipes fills some sort of need and keeps me from being one super-cranky bitch. So all of you who have to deal with me on a daily basis should really thank your lucky stars for the Food Network and those recipe websites!

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Christmas 2011 – Roast Beef, Yorkshire Pudding, Mashed Potatoes, Green Peas, Red Jell-o….

This is NOT the menu from some fancy restaurant – this is the menu for my family’s traditional Christmas Eve dinner. It has not changed one iota since in the last 31 years and I truly don’t expect it to now. And even though my eating habits have massively changed in the last 2 months, I still plan to sample most of this traditional meal – in honor of the family heritage and the family tradition.

I think it started with my grandmother Hallings, who was British by family lineage. For those of you uninformed about the joys of a Yorkshire pudding, it is a dish similar to a popover made with the drippings from a standing rib roast of beef. Very thrifty folks, those Brits, using every drop of goodness.

The Jell-o, of course, is a relatively modern addition to the menu. And, yes, I admit, I take an odd pride in my hometown connection to Jell-o – and it’s just a darn tasty addition to the traditional fare 😉

My mother, one of the great ladies of the world, busts her hump every year to produce this dinner in addition to Christmas Day breakfast, church commitments, and last-minute wrapping. This year will be even more of a challenge for her as she worries about my new eating habits and whether I can enjoy as I always have.  I admire my mom for always working so tirelessly to produce a wonderful Christmas tradition for her children!

So why is this menu so special to me? Why would I be heartbroken should my mother ever decide to switch to a turkey or a ham? Because family tradition is the most important thing I have! Friends and spouses may leave, years may pass, and I may get older – but I know that one dinner a year is going to remain a constant fixture in my life.

So here is my tribute to my traditions, my mom, and to that blessed Yorkshire pudding…

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Christmas 2011 – Cookies

Anyone who has known me for any period of time knows that food is tremendously important to me. Not only does food provide me with a part-time living (many thanks to The Pampered Chef), but it gives me a sense of purpose and order. Nothing thrills me more than finding a new recipe to try or a new flavor to test.

The holidays provide me with the happiest and most tradition-laden foods in my repertoire. I get such joy from pulling out the family recipes and trying to recreate those happy childhood moments by visiting the flavors of my mother’s, aunts’, and grandmothers’ kitchens. Many blissful moments were had at my mother’s side crafting the annual cornucopia of butter, sugar, flour, and love.

And what better representation of holiday cooking than the ever-loved Christmas Cookies? George Strait even wrote a song about the scent of cookies baking and sneaking tastes of the broken cookies. Not only do those smells fill the house with a warm and homey scent, they fill our hearts with fond memories of our childhoods and setting plates out for Santa.

Seven-layer bars, spritz cookies, multi-color shortbreads, sugar cutouts, gingerbread men, Italian wedding cookies, buckeyes, buried treasures, snickerdoodles, thumbprint cookies – whatever your family traditions are, don’t you remember the scent of those Christmas creations as they baked?

Even now, as soon as I hit the back door of my parents’ house, my mouth waters for the cookies that Mom has stashed away for us. When Thanksgiving rolls past, I dig for my mother’s recipes and long for a simpler time when I learned at her elbow the secrets of making her favorites. I flip through mental snapshots of shared holiday moments with friends and families over the sweet crumbles of cookie goodness.

Even now, after my surgery, when I can’t enjoy these wonderful holiday delicacies like I used to, Christmas cookies will always represent for me the joy of family, my friends, and many happy holiday times! Those simple confections will serve as sweet reminders of the truly important things in life – love, peace, friendship, and family.

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Who Knew I Could Love An Eggface?

Odd title, important discovery! In my new adventure towards becoming fit and healthy after my surgery, I have been scouring the internet looking for recipes of foods that I can eat – when I can *actually* ingest anything of substance again. And I discovered this wonderful little corner of the digital cosmos called The World According to Eggface.

This amazing and inspirational woman named Shelly runs this website, having herself gone through bariatric surgery about 5 years ago and understanding what goes into that process. Shelly (and another neat lady named Nik who runs Bariatric Foodie – more about her later) have helped keep me sane as I have gone through that immediate post-op phase. When I’ve gotten depressed or scared or nervous about this major change I’ve made, I go to their blogs and find out that a) I am not alone b) these feelings are totally normal and c) I will get to ‘play with my food’ soon.

Right now the Eggface is running a wonderful contest in which you can win the ingredients for Shelly’s Pumpkin Pie Protein Shake! Now, for those of you non-bariatrically concerned folks, the protein part of this recipe won’t mean anything (more to come on the challenge of finding enough protein when you’re in our boat) but it still is a healthy and yummy substitution for anyone that can’t afford the extra load of calories in a real slice of pumpkin pie. Thank goodness because Thanksgiving is coming and I was afraid I wasn’t going to be able to eat anything traditional!

The best part about most of her recipes is that they are designed and portioned to be friendly to anyone that is trying to lose a little weight or eat healthier, not just those of us that are involved with bariatric surgeries. She has a family to feed and her recipes help bring them all together over a healthy meal. A neat lady, truly. Check her out.

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Choosing Off the Menu

It’s funny how much of my life can be related to food – so stereotypical of a fat girl to say, I know. As I draw nearer and nearer to the date on which I give up my old food habits, I can’t help but see food in everything I do, see, say, love, and enjoy. I will expand more upon the eating changes at some later point, as I find the courage to deal with the issue publicly. But for right now, suffice it to say that I am reevaluating my relationship with food and making some major changes.

One of the biggest realizations I have come to is that I need to put people back to the top of the things that I love in this world. I have found myself drawing further and further into solitude as a way of dealing with the hurts and stress of the past 2 years.  I have been retreating further and further from people in a way to avoid stress, hurt, rejection, and pain. This ‘diet’ cannot be healthy for me – and certainly must be hurtful to the people around me.

So I am putting my relationships with my friends and family, the truly important people in my world, back to the top of my menu! I am once again going to feast at the table of the world around me. People are, in my theory, like a giant restaurant – sometimes a buffet, sometimes a fancy steakhouse, sometimes a fast food joint, sometimes an exotic foreign eatery. There are millions of different types of people out there and sometimes you have to be brave and try something new. Sometimes you’ll find that people are bitter or rotten but more often, I would like to think, people are sweet and unique and full of their own unique ‘flavors.’ But remember that the menu isn’t a la carte – people aren’t side dishes.  You can’t pick and choose what qualities they have and don’t have – you have to accept them and enjoy them for all of their ‘flavors’!

As I redefine my relationship with food, I am also going to redefine my relationship with the human race. I am no longer as trusting and naive as I once was – but that’s ok. I’ve tried a few really bad dishes in the past 2 years – I am now ready for a new menu!

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My Contribution to the Planet

One of my favorite movies of all times is a little-known Will Farrell film called Stranger Than Fiction. Now, I know that most Will Farrell movies are either dumb (Talladega Nights, anyone?) or an acquired taste (for those of you that loved Anchorman). But Stranger Than Fiction is a totally different breed of movie. It follows a tax accountant, Harold, who lives a quiet, routine, and boring life – who suddenly wakes up one morning with an unknown voice narrating his life and controlling his movements. He struggles, every single moment, with a suddenly-changed life and the new concept that someone else is making the decisions to control his life. See where I’m going with this? Do you understand why I can identify with Harold? I too am now wandering a path laid by someone else – and am struggling a bit with it. I do have to admit, though, that I envy Harold – he has Kay (his narrator) to help guide him. I often feel that I am on my path alone, that I am standing alone in a room screaming for help and no one is there to guide me.

But one of my favorite parts of the movie is when Harold discovers what contributions can be made to this world, how the little things around us can save us from drowning.

Kay Eiffel: As Harold took a bite of Bavarian sugar cookie, he finally felt as if everything was going to be ok. Sometimes, when we lose ourselves in fear and despair, in routine and constancy, in hopelessness and tragedy, we can thank God for Bavarian sugar cookies. And, fortunately, when there aren’t any cookies, we can still find reassurance in a familiar hand on our skin, or a kind and loving gesture, or subtle encouragement, or a loving embrace, or an offer of comfort, not to mention hospital gurneys and nose plugs, an uneaten Danish, soft-spoken secrets, and Fender Stratocasters, and maybe the occasional piece of fiction. And we must remember that all these things, the nuances, the anomalies, the subtleties, which we assume only accessorize our days, are effective for a much larger and nobler cause. They are here to save our lives. I know the idea seems strange, but I also know that it just so happens to be true. And, so it was, a wristwatch saved Harold Crick.

This little concept has really made me think, made me ponder what contributions I am making to the world around me, what small things I can offer to the human beings around me to help make their journeys easier. What small gifts can I give to the world to help make someone else’s life better?

There are so many things that I want to do and to be, so many dreams yet to be lived and so many goals yet to be met. It’s almost overwhelming to me sometimes. But I do know that I have decided one important thing: if I’m going to make the world a brighter place, I’m going to do it with cookies…

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Truly Blessed

I know that I have used this forum to do a whole lot of bitchin’ about various different subjects. Someday, I’m sure, the karma fairy will bite me in the ass for it. My mommy taught me that it’s not nice to talk about people and I’m sure she would be appalled that I have been saying not nice things about people where the ENTIRE world could view it! I comfort myself, though, with the knowledge that the people I’ve been talking smack about are not nice themselves – therefore, it must be ok, right?

But, in between my hateful thoughts and stressed ramblings, I have come to realize how truly blessed I am. And here’s who and why my life is so rich:

• my family – they may be a long way away, but they have my back and care about me – my mom, dad, brother, aunts, uncle, and cousins have made me who I am today and I cannot thank them enough for the love and support every step of the way
• my extended circle of friends – because of my fire department/EMS affiliation and my various jobs, I have an extensive circle of people that I know I could call in a heartbeat to help me – this group of men and women are true friends and heroes in every sense of the word
• my “sisters” – the most wonderful group of close girlfriends who support me, let me lean on them, and have shared their lives, their families, and their hearts with me – this group has shared with me laughter and tears, happy memories and stressful times, support and neediness, hugs and secrets – I can’t tell you what they all mean to me, near and far!
• my education – I am blessed to have a mind of my own and a very valuable liberal arts education received at one of the best small schools in the northeast – I  have a love of learning and a desire to better myself through education and the college experience molded me into a free thinker, an open-minded human being, and an educated citizen
• my animals – throughout my life, I have encountered some pretty fantastic four-legged friends who have taught me a lot about life and about kindness, unconditional love, and nurturing – my dogs, cats, and horses have been good friends to me over the years
• a roof over my head – (up until now) I have never had to stress over where I would live or how I would stay warm in the winter – I had parents who worked very hard to make sure we grew up comfortably and I moved out on my own into a snug apartment – even my house, which I am losing due to a divorce and a royal jackass, has been a haven to me and a wonderful adventure in homeownership and home maintenance
• a backbone – I lost it (along with my brain) when I fell in love with the wrong man but I have, bit by bit, been reclaiming it. I no longer cower in fear when people are cross towards me – primarily because I just don’t have anything left to lose. But, no matter how unpleasant the reason is, I am so glad to be getting my spirit and my independence back.
• my faith – I was raised in a church and have always had a singularly special relationship with my Heavenly Father. I am sorry to say that I turned away from him for too many years and especially since last May. I was hurt and angry that my Father could let some of these bad things happen to me. But, with the support and guidance of my friend Drew, I have returned to Him and am healing my relationship.
• dreams – I have so many things that I want to do, that I believe can happen for me. I have places to travel, foods to eat, experiences to try, people to meet, and hurts to forgive. I have dreams about my future and the wonderful, rich place that it will be. And I have a dream that I won’t be all alone as I travel the rest of my journey. I have dreams and NO ONE can take those from me!

I am truly blessed and I do know it. Despite the anger and the hurt, I have so much more. I have a wealth beyond measure, riches beyond counting. Thank you, Lord.

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The M&M Dilemma

When you are a fat girl, you spend a lot of time thinking about food. Either you’re planning your next meal or you’re feeling guilty because of something you just ate. You enjoy a great meal – and then you hate yourself for eating it.

I can’t even go to the grocery store without feeling self-conscious. I constantly am worried that people are looking in my cart and judging the nutritional value of its contents. Yes, I do realize how self-centered that is – most people are busy in their own lives and own concerns. Yes, I do realize that the world does not revolve around ME. But it doesn’t stop the fear that people are judging you for that carton of ice cream or bag of chips.

Why do we overeat? What is it that compels us to eat those foods we know we shouldn’t? I am calling it the M&M Dilemma. Those damn little pieces of chocolatey goodness beckon us and, once we dip into the bowl once, we go back again and again. I guess it’s the same as the male relationships in my life – I know they’re bad for me but I can’t help but want more. Ha, maybe it’s just a character flaw in ME – but I expect not. I suspect that many women out there will understand what I am saying with this.

The M&M Dilemma effects people of all sizes – fat, thin, skinny, chunky, plump, stick-like. We are all effected by the lure of yummy, fattening foods. We just can’t help eating those foods we know we shouldn’t – and then beat ourselves up for having caved. It’s definitely a vicious cycle. And it’s even worse when you are struggling with a weight problem. You go on a cycle of diets and binges, sneaking food and then feeling awful about it. You just can’t seem to stay away from the things you know you should.

And I don’t think the M&M Dilemma is limited to just food, either. Some of us struggle with alcohol problems or toxic relationships or gambling addictions. We keep going back to things or people that we KNOW we should just avoid.

So, am I alone in suffering from the M&M Dilemma? Am I the only one who is struggling with my weight, my eating, my self-image? Am I the only one who just can’t walk away? I hope not, as awfully mean as that sounds. It’s not that I want other people to be unhappy – I just don’t want to be alone in the struggle….

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Tomato Soup for the Soul

Food is a comfort to all of us at some point in our lives. When we are sick, we want the foods our mom used to make us. When we are sad, we can tear through a bag of M&M’s in an hour. When we are angry, we go out to dinner with our girlfriends and drink margaritas and eat fattening food. When we are stressed, we drink coffee and snarf donuts. And when we are depressed, we simply want foods that will make us feel better – for some of us it’s cakes and cookies, some prefer pasta and steaks, and yet others hit the good old-fashioned comfort foods – the mac and cheese, the chicken noodle (or, in my case, tomato) soup, the rice pudding, the ice cream, the doritos.

What is it about food that helps us to fill the holes in our hearts? As only a fat girl can, I have long pondered why we (especially as women) turn to food in times of crisis. I have several theories on this topic but most importantly I think that food connects us to ourselves and to other people.

Certain foods help reconnect us to moments from our past in ways that a photograph or a memory could never do – the tastebuds recreate those happy times. Those recipes remind us of people we’ve known and places we’ve been, like virtual scrapbooks. We can recreate those recipes (albeit imperfectly) in our own kitchens to remind us of our journeys and our histories. Maybe the food brings back, if only in memory, a certain person  that you loved. Maybe it reminds you of an important event. Maybe it was discovered on a vacation or trip to somewhere exciting.

Food is also the universal connector from person to person. It’s how we can establish a bond with someone in a non-verbal, non-partisan, non-judgemental way. Food, regardless of ethnicity, community, or religion, can create a connection between people and tells them that we care about them.

Have you noticed that all of our life moments are marked by food?  What happens when someone passes away? Casseroles. What happens when someone is sick? Soup. What happens if someone graduates? Cakes. Gets married? Also cake. Has a baby? More casseroles. Someone’s depressed? Take them out to dinner. Birthdays? Yet more cake. Celebrating summer? Picnics and BBQs. Holidays? Easter hams, Thanksgiving turkeys, Valentine’s chocolates, St. Patty’s green beer, etc.

Food, I think, is a grounding mechanism – it keeps us bound to each other and to our heritages, histories, and happy times. Like the lightning bolt that attracts the electricity, food draws us in and keeps us tied to the important events, people, and moments that make us who we are.

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I’m not negative…I’m just right

One of the things that my husband always told me that drove him most crazy was my negative outlook on life. I admit to always waiting for the other shoe to drop, the bad stuff to arrive on the heels of the good stuff. I wish, oh do I wish, that I didn’t always anticipate the worst! But, dammit, I wish people could stop proving my pessimistic little self right!

To the men in my life who can’t grow up: stop acting like total douchebags about relationships, commitment, honesty, and loyalty.

To the females in my life who want to create drama: stop proving the worst female stereotypes about cattiness, bitchiness, and pettiness! 

To the ‘friends’ I thought who have now abandoned me because of my divorce: I guess I was wrong in believing that you were decent human beings that wouldn’t choose sides!

To the whiny boys in the firehouse: stop bitching about every little thing and remember that the EVFD motto is “service for others” and is not “What are you going to do for ME”!

To the truly mean-spirited people who are rejoicing in kicking me while I’m down, making up lies, and gossiping about me: there is nothing to be gained by smearing my name or dragging me through the mud – it only makes YOU look bad!

To the women who had an affair with my husband: I hope that someday karma pays you back and he cheats on YOU!

And to my soon-to-be-ex-husband and the Rebound Relationships: one day you’ll realize what you missed out on – I’m a good, honest, loyal, giving and caring woman who can cook and enjoys sex – too bad you weren’t smart enough to keep me!

However, in my continuing effort to become a better person, I am going to counteract the negativity with just a small bit of optimism: I’m bouncing back. I have a wonderful circle of TRUE friends who have circled the wagons, pledging their homes if I need them, giving me their ears to fill, and proclaiming their (probably  misguided) confidence that I am a good person. Those same friends are making me remember who I was before all of this nightmare, who I can be again.

I went out the other night to a bar for the first time in twenty forevers and had drinks with my girls and laughed and made fun of boys. I felt confident and secure in who I was and could just sit back and enjoy. I could eat dinner and have obscenely decadent cocktails without mentally counting calories or fearing that I would be judged for being fat. I could spend time with people that my husband wouldn’t approve of and didn’t fear his wrath. I could laugh and cut up without wondering if people were laughing AT me. I could have a few beers and dance and chat with strangers. It was a shadow of who I used to be. Things are looking up!

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