My neighbor just signed up for Weight Watchers and she is excited the same way she always is when she finds help on her never-ending weight loss journey. “I was a chubby child, an overweight adult and now I am an overweight older Grandma,” she says and then she tells me about her heavy bones, and how she was doomed to be overweight her whole life. “It’s genetic!”
Living a rather healthy lifestyle these days, I was still searching for the perfect beverage. My beloved glass of red wine in the evening is long history and is only remembered when I look at my collection of wine glasses I once thought I could not live without.
Cooking tasteful, heart-healthy meals containing less sodium has been quite a challenge. My husband, who now after his bypass surgery is considered a heart patient for life, has not been very helpful. The times of juicy burgers and fried foods are over. Sodium loaded soups, chili’s, stews, and gravies have been banned from my kitchen.
How easy and cheap it can be to decorate an Easter table.
Just open half of the raw eggs in a carton carefully with a spoon or knife -just on top of the egg- the next time you make breakfast. Wash the empty eggshells carefully, let them dry and paint the outside in a shiny metallic color. Gold, pink, blue -whatever you prefer.
My husband is a picky eater. He searches for fat around the meat and pushes food, which he thinks might not please him, to the side. “I cannot stand the texture of fat,” he says, and I can see the disgust on his face when he looks at my marbled ribeye.
Like so many of us, I love to plan meals, and I love to cook. Spoiling my husband and friends is part of who I am. Cooking is my way out after a long workday; I leave my frustrations on the cutting board when I chop off heads of carrots and other willing victims.
Most of us are very fortunate. We can afford to go overboard, and we do it every year around Thanksgiving. We cook for an army of people, even though there will only be a handful at the dinner table. Instead of one side dish, we have four or five.
Last night I watched “Masterchef” a show I had never watched before, and somehow I streamed into an episode where the poor cooks had to serve scrambled eggs. You wouldn’t believe how much drama there was. Scared faces left and right.
A few years ago I realized, that even though I tried to stay away from processed food as much I could, there was one thing I always needed and always bought. Beef, chicken and vegetable bouillon cubes -one of the essentials in so many recipes.
I was raised right between Italy and Austria. “So, where did you go to school,” people often asked me and my answer confused them even more. I went to school in the South of Germany, three hours away from the small village that I called home. Like life wasn’t complicated enough the way it was.