30 Day Mediterranean Lifestyle Challenge
Kathleen Halverson is a production editor on our publications team. She also teaches yoga. She had me laughing with her Mediterranean challenge stories, so I asked her share with all of you.
I have always been convinced that I am a disaster in the kitchen. And that I can’t cook. But my recent transition to the Mediterranean Lifestyle is proving me wrong.
I certainly don’t like to cook (or, didn’t used to) and in
the past have staunchly refused to do so. My husband has done all the cooking
and shopping for our family, and all of us like it that way.
Who knew that, just a few
days into this challenge, I would be able to not only identify a fennel but
whip up a frittata? It is Day 2, and I am cooking savory, taste-bud-stimulating
meals that are exciting and fun to eat. Although still tentative (mainly with
my own self-discipline) about whether I can do this, I have to admit: This
cooking thing is more fun and a tiny little bit easier than I thought it would
be.
Yup, you are talking to
someone who has gone stark raving mad for Med. At least, so far.
For example, this morning, I
made the most delicious vegetable frittata for breakfast. I think it’s my
favorite recipe so far. And, last night, I tried my hand at “whipping up” a
quinoa, chicken, cucumber, and dill salad (I’m about to dive into it now for
lunch). I say “whipping up” because, for me, that means 3 hours. Yes. Twice the
time it says that preparation and cooking take. But, hey, I’m a newbie to all
of this. If I am not spending my time a bit green (OK: clueless) in the
kitchen, peppering my husband (who’s trying to read) with questions and singing
along to the music on my iPod while making meals that, in the end, truly make
me amaze myself and my family, then where would I be and what different thing
would I be doing? I’d be on the couch watching TV or reading a book, slogging
down sparkling water, my mood as grumbly as my gut, which is still most
definitely adjusting to Sonoma style living. I’m not hesitant to admit that!!!
The food is yummy and filling, but let’s be frank about it: This transition
takes some—no, a LOT—of getting used to if you haven’t been eating and living
this way all along—which, let’s face it, most of us haven’t, or we wouldn’t
have signed up for this challenge: Right?
This is Day 2 of my
transition to Sonoma-style living—and Week 2 of reading and learning all about
Mediterranean Lifestyle eating, and the ins and outs of the New Sonoma Plan. I
am finding myself smack in the middle of an exciting discovery: Not only can I cook when I put my mind to it, but
the food I make tastes pretty darn fabulous!
Now, the question is, “Can I
make this last? Can I truly shift from thinking of this as a ‘short-term thing
to get through’ to embodying it as a lifelong habit that will bring me endless
health and body benefits?” It remains to be seen, but I am hopeful—more hopeful
than I was last week, fretting about what I wouldn’t
be eating. Now, already, I am excited about what I am eating! After all, how can you fret about a frittata?
Making The Case for Cooking
 |
| Kathleen post pantry cleanout (center); Minestrone soup, breakfast, lunch creation, frittata cooking, Matthew eating salad he requested, the elusive fennel, quinoa (clockwise from top left) |
The Mediterranean Lifestyle
is one that requires some (if not a lot of) cooking and planning—neither of
which I am particularly interested in or skilled at. Well, I haven’t been until
now. But I knew that, in accepting this latest ASHA challenge, I had to finally
cave in and reluctantly embrace some
embodiment of the culinary, even if it was making the most basic of recipes (or
so I told myself—I never would have considered a frittata anywhere near “basic”
but I did it). I’ve tried so many different ways of losing weight over the years,
all with the caveat of “I will NOT cook. I will not change who I am. I will
find a way around this eating plan so that I still do not have to cook.” Years
ago, I thought that Weight Watchers’ quick-cook (or no-cook) packaged foods
worked for me. Clearly, they didn’t, because as soon as I went off the plan,
the pounds came right back on). And I thought, “I can eat out as long as I eat
‘healthy’!” (How easy it was to snub that
credo once dinner was actually on the table in front of me.)
I think what I am learning
the most (and it may sound like a no-brainer to those who cook, but it’s quite
enlightening to me) is that cooking is essential to successful, long-term
weight loss and increased overall wellness. And not just cooking, but the
cooking of delicious, savory, tasty, exciting, fresh, locally grown, whole
foods. They just make you feel better. When you cook, you have so much more
control over exactly what you are putting into your meals, which, if you cook
with fresh, whole foods, translates to a trimmer waistline among other
benefits.
I seriously hate admitting
that, let me tell ya. I will never stop loving me a nice slice of pizza (or
several), but it clearly hasn’t served me well over the years.
The nonconformist
kitchen-hater who has lived inside of me for the past 20 years is still
somewhat stomping her feet, crossing her arms, and pouting, saying, “You caved.
You let them change you!” But the reality is, the scale (and my declining
energy levels and overall lousy feeling) has shown that the very stubbornness I
used to eschew all things culinary is the very thing that, over time, changed
me for the worse. The thin, energetic , happier, healthier person I was 20
years ago is saying, “Finally. You are finally
going to let me out and show me to the world again. It’s been a long time. Now,
let’s do this thing.”
Are You Kidding Me? Learning to “Like” to Cook?
My personal challenge in this
overall ASHA Challenge was to learn to like
to cook—and to do so, I need to EXACTLY follow recipes. As in, have them
spelled out for me, one step at a time, the obvious being explicitly stated
rather than implied, right down to the last detail (e.g., my latest question to
my poor husband: “You mean the pasta goes into the minestrone soup UNCOOKED? Ohhhhh!!”). So, I am doing my
best to stringently follow the exact meal plans laid out for me in Week 1,
rather than trying to cobble it together on my own. I am swapping out, say,
lunch on Day 2 and eating it on Day 4 instead, for example, but so far, it
seems to be working. Following exact meal plans (or exact meals) just makes it
easier. It’s less for me think about and plan.
In line with this personal
challenge, I have found that, mostly, Sonoma gives me what I need to
successfully make yummy meals. The only thing that would be better, for me, in
using the New Sonoma recipes is having pictures of what these strange new foods
look like. Such as my lovely new friend the fennel (more on the fennel a few
paragraphs down). However, being in the publishing field, I realize that
photos, especially color ones, would double or triple the production costs of
the book, which would then get passed along to us. I can live without the
photos (thanks to my other friend, Produce Dude; see Fennel section for more
details [trust me, this Fennel discussion is worth the buildup]).
In learning to like to cook,
first I had to get myself to a grocery store (OK, now my inner nonconformist
was REALLY raging). For produce and a few other specialty items, I chose My
Organic Market (MOM) in Rockville. Why MOM’s? OK, coming clean here: I had a
$50 gift card to use toward my purchase of all that delectable but not cheap produce.
And I knew I’d have a greater chance of finding the more elusive foods on my
list (such as those tasty Wasa crackers that I like to crumble up and use as
“croutons” in my salad).
Sunday, and the Case of the Clueless Mom
So let’s talk about what
Sunday looked like. Do you remember Sunday, March 10, in the greater
Washington/Baltimore area? It was a stunning, surprisingly balmy day. The sun
was shining, people were out and about, radios were blasting, spirits were high
all around town. Spring was in the air.
Sunday also was, according to
New Sonoma, “Day Zero” for me. A day of purging and reorganizing the kitchen. A
day of shopping and learning. A day of preparing for Day 1 and an exciting new
beginning. Blech, I’d rather be riding my bike.
As much as I wanted to be
outside that day, Sunday was one of the most interesting days I’ve had in a
long time. (The story I’m about to share is actually the crux of what led to
this blog post. It involves the elusive fennel.)
My Friend the Fennel
Let me switch to present
tense for a moment. It enhances your
sense of being present with me and my friend the fennel.
It’s a beautiful sunny Sunday
afternoon. I could be at the playground with my 4-year-old son, or taking the
dog for a walk, or taking myself for a walk (such sacrifices for this Sonoma
Explorer). It’s true: I really have gone stark raving mad for Med because, instead
of spending time outside, off I go to MOM’s. I enter the MOM produce section
(which, by the way, is beautiful and brimming with not only amazing-looking
produce but tons of positive energy), park my cart to the side, and unfold my
shopping list. I look around, and my inner nonconformist starts freaking out (I’m the only one with a darn list. How do
these people do it? They are so zippy and easy and comfortable in this new land
of bright colors and blissful fresh foods. And they keep trying to kill me with
their carts. All I’m trying to do is stand here and THINK for a minute. If I
get one more “Excuse me,” I’m gonna scream. Where can I park this cart and just
be left alone with my list for a moment?!?!)
Finally, after organizing how
I’m going to go about tackling this new and unfamiliar territory, I manage to
start finding my items. I find the bell peppers, the onions (which ones? ah, yellow, I guess), the
carrots, the parsley (which one? Flat
leaf? Sure, throw it in the cart, that’ll do), the potatoes (whoops! no dice! admire them and step away
from the white potatoes), and the list goes on.
Then, I get to the next item
on the list. It says “fennel.”
I freeze.
Don’t get me wrong: I’ve
certainly heard of fennel. But I’m
not sure I ever knew what it was. I drink fennel tea sometimes. I have always
been vaguely aware of fennel’s existence. But now, I have to actually find it
on a produce shelf, and buy it, and figure out what to do with it when I got
home. Whole different story.
Keep in mind, while I’m doing
all of this, I’m trying to look all hip and organic and cool, as if “Hey, I
spend a LOT of time here! Let me, just, you know, duck in here and get some
things.” (I suppose the list gave me away very quickly, huh?)
Anyway, so now I’m internally
freaking out, my panicked glances at the labels atop the lettuce section
totally giving me away. The conversation in my head goes something like this:
Culinary
Explorer Kathleen: What the heck does fennel look like? I have to find it! Is
it leafy, like lettuce? Or rooty, like a potato? But, I drink fennel tea, so it
must be more like an herb. Let’s check there.
Kitchen-Hating
Nonconformist Kathleen: See? Told you.
You can’t do this. You suck at grocery shopping and at cooking. You don’t even
know what a freaking fennel looks like. Who in the cooking world can’t identify
a simple fennel?
And back and forth we go.
Finally, Culinary Explorer
Girl wins. Humbleness and humor find me. I realize how ridiculous I am being. (Am I really going to leave the store not
having bought fennel simply because I didn’t know what it looks like? REALLY,
Kathleen? Who cares what the produce dude thinks, or what the tight-lipped
woman expertly racing around the tomato aisle giving me dirty looks thinks?).
I decide rather than being embarrassed about asking, why not treat this as the
adventure it is proving to be? I spot the produce dude; he is sporting the
ever-popular “urban grunge” look, so it’s hard to call him “the produce man.”
He seriously looks like the kind of guy who probably spends his free time
barefoot in blue jeans drinking green tea and strumming an acoustic guitar,
singing songs that, of course, he wrote. I smilingly approach him, my wrinkled
and marked up list in hand, and say, “Can you please tell me what a [glance down at paper, squint a bit] ‘fennel’
looks like?”
“Oh, sure. It’s right here.” He
smiles easily and picks up the fennel and hands it to me. Simple as that.
The funniest thing of all is
that the fennel was an ingredient for last night’s planned dinner. Which my
husband and I decided to not make.
Let me explain (there are
logistics involved here): It required too much time—more than we bargained for.
We were both exhausted, and we had a very hungry 4-year-old on our hands who
was not about to wait for an entire chicken to roast (only after being rubbed down and surrounded with vegetables). Patience,
friends, we are still navigating the logistics of incorporating Sonoma-style
living and being into our family life. We resorted to a still-Sonoma-friendly
meal but one that required much less time to prepare.
As for the fennel, it still sits
there, patiently waiting for me to prepare and cook it. I’m sure there’s
another recipe I can use it in this week. I won’t let that little guy go
bad—not after all my work in acquiring him! J
I Hear (and Taste) a Symphony
Now let’s talk about my
cooking skills themselves. I am learning that all is not lost.
My first attempt (and a
successful one at that) was the Mediterranean Soup. The soup is DELICIOUS and
because it makes 8 cups (although, this Explorer somehow ended up with 12 cups),
I froze half of it. I actually took a picture of it, it looked so colorful in
the skillet!
It was kind of comical had
you been a fly on the wall late last night while I was making said soup. (You’ve
already heard about how overwhelmed I was in that big building known as a
“grocery store,” bumbling around like the newbie I am.) Ask Kelly, fellow
Sonoma Explorer with a life very similar life to my own—namely, defined as a
balancing act involving a full-time job, toddlers, and time management, among
other things. We ran into each other at the very end of my hours-long excursion
to transition my family and myself into Mediterranean gods and goddesses. She
saw me at Safeway (stop #2 after MOM’s) at the
very end of my rope: I was trying to find what MOM’s didn’t have (and,
honestly, things that I could more easily afford without sacrificing quality).
Fast-forward to later that
evening, after my son was in bed and I could focus on (gasp) cooking at long
last.
The recipe said it would take
1 hour and 15 minutes to make this soup. I managed to double that time. But I discovered something critical to my future as a cook of all
things fresh and flavorful, something that I had never tried before: Listening
to music while cooking. It TOTALLY helped me and actually made me enjoy the
process. And because I was spending so much time wrangling with all the
chopping and sautéing and slicing and simmering, I wasn’t sitting in front of
the TV all night, wondering what I could eat (and whining b/c I was fasting for
the biometric screening on Monday morning).
Some comments I kept making
to my husband while cooking the soup included the following:
“How do you ‘slice’ garlic,
for God’s sake?” [I still don’t know the answer to that one. I ended up just
chopping up the cloves. I think a glass jar of minced garlic might be in order.]
“You mean I have to put the
pasta into the soup uncooked?”
“Shit! I forgot to buy chile
flakes [whatever they are]. Oh,
well.” [I ad libbed and shook some crushed red pepper and chili powder into the
soup instead; it turned out OK, considering I like spicy food.]
“OK, OK, I’ll stop talking
now.” [in response to him looking up at
me and sighing, as he was interrupted from his reading for the 19th
time…]
And then there’s this
priceless conversation that I simply must recap here. We were discussing the
roasted chicken that we were planning to cook the next night (yes, the one with
fennel in it, the same one that ended up not getting made).
Me: “You mean they sell a whole raw chicken in the grocery store?”
Jeff: “Yes; they’re actually
a lot cheaper than buying boneless breast.”
Me: “[insert wrinkly face] Ewww, that’s gross. I hate touching raw meat. Can
you be the one to prepare the chicken? I’ll take on the fennel.”
So, fellow explorers and blog
followers, for me it all comes down to frittatas and fennel. Being fearless and
asking questions. Having fun. Embracing
a new way of living and being.
I really am stark raving mad
for Med.
No comments:
Post a Comment