Calorie-Free Cake -- just kidding

Consider yourself warned: I'm climbing on my soapbox for a little rant. 

When I began considering baking a cake per week until 2018, I pitched the idea to my ever-wise Facebook crew. And they were generally supportive - because, cake! - but were also, surprisingly, full of health advice - because, cake? - but it got me to thinking and actually aggravated me. Problem #1 with crowd-sourcing your dreams. 

There were suggestions about ways to share the cakes to keep from eating it all, tips on how to save calories/fats, and suggestions for healthier recipes. And I get it, 10 weeks of cake is a lot of cake, but my first thought when someone suggests a challenge like that is "ooh, how do I get on board" or "here's my recipe for at-home Baker's Joy" or my husband's initial reaction, "how can you afford that much butter and vanilla?" 

So, I'm kinda pissed that these suggestions about health, diet, and calorie counting clogged up my fun query and dampened my excitement. 

First, food is important. We need it to survive but in a privileged society where we aren't solely focused on nourishment, we also have the opportunity to really enjoy it. I have the great fortune to be able to spend money at grocery stores, to spend time cooking for myself and the ones I love, and to go out and enjoy the gift of other people's professional cooking. So why shouldn't I take the next two months to not only enjoy the fruits of my baking and the results of new experimental recipes, but also to reconnect with my love of cooking? 

Which makes me think this: is it because I proposed the challenge?

I recently watched a (ridiculous) Refinery 29 video about an employee who ate nothing but pizza (or the closest approximations thereof) four times a day for five days. 

Homegirl had breakfast pizza, homemade gluten-free pizza, fruit + Nutella pizza, classic $1 NYC slices etc. and she lived happily ever after, save for one stomachache. However, a Facebook comment stood out to me: how would this comment thread be different if she wasn't a cute, thin, white girl? 

What would your gut (no pun, intended) reaction be to seeing slovenly Kevin from accounting eating 10 slices of pizza a day for a week? Or that big girl at the gym who only lasts 5 minutes on the treadmill? "We" - the collective group of people with opinions and wifi - would not stand for it. Why? It's five days out of someone's life! They could be healthy. They could regularly exercise. They could be  are just damn fine without our concern for their well-being. 

I'm not skinny, but aside from some Smaug-worthy heartburn and allergies from hell, I'm pretty healthy. This barely muscular, doughy, and perfectly imperfect body gets through the day without too many complaints. It nourished and brought a wonderfully healthy baby boy into the world and it only gained 12 pounds to do so (7 of which were exclusively baby) and so far, it's nursed him for 15+ months while losing the baby weight + an additional 30 pounds. So I've had to ask myself a la Carrie Bradshaw: would a cake-a-week be a big deal if I looked like, say, Carrie Bradshaw? 

Now, these particular people who offered suggestions on Facebook and those who I've explained my cake calendar to since, aren't jerks dropping passive aggressive hints about my weight, sugar intake, or chins. These are all women whom I genuinely respect and who care about me. But that shows you how ingrained discussions of weight, calories and fat are in our culture. We're willing to tell the people we love, whose ideas we fully support, that they should be thinking about their diet...constantly and that they don't deserve to indulge. It's subtle and well-intended conversation, but it's coming from a place, deep within all of us that is paralyzed at the thought of being unattractive. This self-consciousness is such a part of who we are that we can't be held accountable for our own behavior. It's like a compulsion to share and defend ourselves at the same time; "I care about my health. I'm bettering myself! See? Now, you should too!" 

All that being said, I appreciate another element of the culture of my she-tribe, that we look out for each other. We only want the best for each other and I'm sure they'd be alarmed if I expressed an interest in anything dangerous or truly, immediately unhealthy. But I just hate how this observation speaks to all of our fears and panic. I want to take the time to be more thoughtful in my conversations with others, especially with other women, about their plans/dreams/challenges and not be dismissive. I need to reprogram my subconscious to ask more personal, positive questions and offer real, helpful thoughts instead of jumping to negativity. 

I need to be asking myself: is this something I would say if they were talking about or doing something "traditional" or "healthy" or "generous"? Can't their excitement over baking ten cakes warrant the same excitement I'd give someone trying a kale-of-the-month club? Shouldn't I be as proud of them taking up disc golf as I would be of their interest in Soul Cycle? Why am I not praising their decision to go out on a date without the kids as much as I do their macaroni art projects with the two toddlers? 

Rant of the Day: Fussy Eaters

With over one hundred Endlessly Delicious Life posts and a similar amount of topic “labels,” you can tell that I’m not a picky eater.

I’m not opposed to shopping at discount grocery stores or squeamish with expiration dates (“best buy…” means you can still eat it, right?). I have no problem experimenting with new recipes and ingredients, and I get downright giddy at the prospect of trying a new restaurant.

I never really had a chance to be too choosey.

My parents raised me with a firm foodie hand where I ate what they ate – or I was foraging for my own meals in our pantry (read: soup bean & cornbread nights). I remember an attempt at a Lenten sacrifice where I wanted to be a 40-day vegetarian and Dad said “Well, enjoy cooking your own meals, kid.”

We always had a big garden and canned our own produce, jams, jellies, pickles, and meats; fresh, homegrown food covered our table. The food you grow and cook yourself always tastes better; who would turn that away?

Baby Amanda making eggs with Dad

And for one reason or another we didn’t take expensive vacations together; but could swing a dinner at the new joint in town or drive to Asheville for exotic grub.

I recently read comments from acclaimed chef Curtis Stone that picky eaters aren’t born, they’re made by parents who assume young taste buds only respond to fries and Cheetos, and it got me to thinking about the true meaning of being “picky.”

J and I haven’t yet been blessed with our own little mess-maker(s?), but we have both dealt with our fair share of adult picky eaters and let’s be real, they’re infuriating.

J gets the brunt of this at the restaurant with orders like “I want a Philly cheese steak but with no cheese, no onions, no peppers and turkey instead of steak” or “Can you remove all of the pickle relish from the egg salad?” Um…no. #AintNobodyGotNoTimeForThat

Fiercegifts.tumblr.com

But I get equally aggravated by friends who must pick a restaurant that serves items from their three American food groups: pepperoni pizza, fried chicken items (nuggets, tenders),  and cheddar cheese products (macaroni, grilled cheese). Which automatically nixes 75% of the places I enjoy eating.  

These aren’t people with a biological disposition to be sensitive to various textures, colors or flavors (many people on the autism spectrum have very specific preferences to food) and they aren’t folks who have just realized they don’t appreciate x dish or enjoy the flavor of y, or get heartburn/headaches etc. from z.

These are the jerks whose parents only handed them the kids’ menu and from the crowning of their first tooth imprinted on them their own preferences or scared them away from adventure – “No, you won’t like this; it’s for grownups.”

Nothing makes my eyes twitch quite hearing this familiar discussion:

"Do you want some (Fill in the blank - calamari? sushi? osso buco? salsa verde? imported beer?

"EWWWWW NO! I HATE that!"

" Have you ever tried it?"

"No, but I hate it."

I’m pretty sure an angel loses its wings every time someone does that.

And there lies the reality of being a picky eater versus living the life of an independent thinker and diner. Picky eaters were never given a chance to try new things and didn’t take it upon themselves to explore later in life.

My dad doesn’t eat lemon desserts – pudding, pie, bars, gelatin (well, Jell-o in general) – for whatever reason. And growing up, we never had lemon desserts in the house and if we went out to eat he’d pick over those items on the menu. I decided I didn’t like lemon desserts either, (except for lemon poppyseed muffins). It wasn’t until recently that I actually put thought into why I won’t eat lemon bars, and I tried one… I loved it.

I adopted a similar hatred of blueberries because my mom wouldn’t eat them. Mom likes their flavor, but they discolor the veneer of her front teeth. I don’t have any veneers, caps or false teeth but I turned my nose up at blueberries (except for muffins, again) because I “didn’t like them.” I didn’t even knew the flavor of a blueberry until I was 20. Turns out, they’re pretty good. Now I don’t eat them because they’re so darn expensive.

But that’s just it. I had no idea what these things tasted like, but assumed – either on my own or from mimicking my parents – that they would be awful. The point is that I was (eventually) willing to try and then decide for myself.

You’re not picky if you’ve experienced different ingredients, dishes and flavors and decided you don’t like them. And part of that is probably a personality trait – a willingness to experiment, to try new things and to persevere and try them a few times. For example: If I had only tried mom’s meatloaf, I’d say I don’t like meatloaf; but if I try several recipes, I would find that I love meatloaf! (Sorry, mom.).

Having a list of things you’d rather never eat again doesn’t make you a chicken-nugget-fool, but rather someone with a discerning palate. Even the best, most famous chefs have things they hate. Did you ever see Scott Conant’s infamous rant on Chopped about raw red onions? That actually cost someone $10,000.

In all fairness, and to not belabor our poor choosy eaters, I’ll share my list of things I HATE to eat:

• Licorice and its natural counterparts fennel and star anise: So, so gross. I would say 90% of the world eschews black jellybeans and come to find out it’s not a sad flavor made in a laboratory, but a legit vegetable and spice. Ick.
• Dark beer: I think it’s the bitterness, I just can’t handle it. Wine cooler, please.
• Raw tomato slices: This is totally a texture thing; if you’ll scoop the “guts” out, I’ll gladly add it to my burger, taco or salad.
• Processed cherries (maraschino cherries, cherry pie filling): I love fresh cherries but hate how sickly sweet they get in processed forms.
• Artificial grape/purple flavoring: It all tastes like cough syrup to me. J is the same way with cherry/red flavoring, so we swap Skittles. The only exception has been a Japanese gummy from Skoshbox that tasted just like a real muscadine.
• Fresh mangoes: I think they taste furry (random, I know) and they are a pain in the butt to slice, anyway.
• (not sweet) Pickles: One of my shining moments as a toddler is screaming “NO PICK PICKS!!” as I threw my Happy Meal burger into my mom’s windshield as she was driving. I’m working on this one. I had some amazing pickles at Cedric’s Tavern at the Biltmore Estate and I now enjoy pickled things (green tomatoes, beans and squash).
• Raw red and yellow apples: Again, a texture thing. Red and yellow varieties are much more prone to mealy-ness than green species. I can’t overcome the soft and grainy mouthfeel to enjoy them.

And thus comes my challenge to you: try something new this week. It could be a new recipe, restaurant (let your friends pick!), ingredient or menu item. Just give it a go and decide for yourself it it’s something you like.

Don’t let other folks’ opinions or your own hang-ups (“Ew! Oysters look like snot!”) get in the way of experiencing something new, and potentially wonderful. I read an article about a guy who copied the order of the person in front of him (at fast-food) or to the right of him (sit-down dining). A surprise every time! And many times it turned him on to something he would have never considered but really enjoyed. Sure, sometimes you’ll get a dud, like my Uncle Buddha’s peanut butter & bologna sandwich, but regardless, you’ll never know what you like until you try!

Lionsgate

Tasty Tomes: Favorite "Food Books"

We are a reading family. J and I are both voracious readers independently, but enjoy books so much, and with such varied tastes, that we share them with each other by reading our personal favorites out loud to the other.

There's just something about summer that intensifies my desire to read. It may be that it's too hot to exert yourself more than turning a page, that it's easier to escape to other worlds in the whimsy of "summer vacation" despite being tied down with full-time jobs, or that one of our culture's last vestiges of enjoying reading is the "Beach Reads" checklist at bookshops. Regardless, I've had an insatiable appetite for books as the weather has warmed up.

J enjoys science fiction and fantasy books - from The Gunslinger to the Wheel of Time Series to Michael Chrichton's books - he enjoys the fantastical, magical worlds. And I have enjoyed him opening my eyes to these books that I would have hardly noticed on my own, but have come to enjoy.

I have a much less exciting, and almost haphazard, taste in books. As an English major, I'm willing to (attempt to) appreciate any effort at writing an entire book, regardless of the subject. I'll pick up just about anything at a used bookstore that sounds halfway decent or has really nice cover art; but mostly I like stories about the everyday. I know that's vague, but what I mean is stories like The Great Gatsby, that aren't about magic of technology or space or other dimensions, so much as the pieces of regular peoples' lives falling into place. The books that are good stories above all, but that could happen to anyone, that describe the most common of occurrences but in such a way that you can relate and empathize.

And in this somewhat reckless collection of books that I've read, I've come across some great works about food. A few are non-fiction, and biographies, even; but most are works of fiction where food is a main character in the drama. A lot of the books are able to portray, far better than I could ever imagine doing, how important a meal can be between friends, how special memories are of late-night snacks, how your emotions are portrayed through the foods you serve, and more.

If you're a reader, hungering for something to sink your intellectual teeth into, consider giving these books a shot. I've enjoyed each of them and hope you will, too.

Each title includes a link to the Goodreads.com book review page which includes a brief synopsis, reader reviews and more. If you read a lot, I highly recommend setting up a Goodreads account; it keeps me straight on what I've read (and if I liked it) and what I want to read next. I'd be lost in a bookstore without it.

Dearie: The Remarkable Life of Julia Child  - This bio of the late, great, Julia Child offers so many insights about her personal life that I'd never known. For example, in her 80s she loved picking up young men in bars; her and her husband had the most wonderful romance; and despite being the pre-Martha Stewart of perfection, she had an incredibly dysfunctional family.

The Very Hungry Caterpillar - An Eric Carle classic that taught us all the basics of counting, colors and binge eating. I have snack cravings just like this little guy all the time.

Like Water for Chocolate - I just finished this book (in a day!) and loved it. It has an incredibly unique format of monthly installments including recipes for traditional Mexican dishes. As they describe how to make the meals, they describe why, when and by whom they're cooked. This book describes my exact feelings about food - that it can bring memories to the forefront, embody all the chef's emotions, and be the most powerful connection to our loved ones. (It's also been made into a movie, if you want to cheat and watch it instead. It's available on Netflix streaming).

Chocolat - Another romantic, chocolate-filled book. The story wraps more around the politics of a French village and its strange characters, but the descriptions of the sweets are exciting and completely cravable. (And the movie version casts a very lovely Johnny Depp).

Julie & Julia: 365 Days, 524 Recipes, 1 Tiny Apartment Kitchen: How One Girl Risked Her Marriage, Her Job, and Her Sanity to Master the Art of Living - I will say the movie for this book is just as delightful as the book, and so, I will endorse you skipping the book for Amy Adams and Meryl Streep. This covers a young woman stuck in a crappy job, in a teeny apartment who works out all of her disappointments by cooking every dish in Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child. It features vignettes about Child's real adventure writing Cooking and Julie's attempt. If you've ever felt daunted by cooking, this book (or movie) will put you at ease and encourage you to give it a shot.

Service Included: Four-Star Secrets of an Eavesdropping Waiter - I mentioned this on my "Recipe Resources" post and it's a little-known winner. I found this book at a library overstock sale for 50 cents.It covers the adventures of working in Thomas Keller's uber-fancy Per Se restaurant. I learned a lot about working in kitchens, and how I should act as a diner. I highly recommend it to anyone with an interest in food and especially those who want to live their Michelin star dreams vicariously through an insider.

Freedom on the Menu: The Greensboro Sit-Ins - Technically, food is a minor character in this book, but if you have young children, this book is a must-have. It is about the infamous lunch counter sit-ins started by NC A&T students, from a local girl's perspective. All she wants is to eat milkshakes with her family at the shiny Woolworth counter and doesn't understand the implications of the changing world around her.

Eat, Pray, Love - I feel like this has become a cliche title for any woman undergoing a melodramatic crisis, but it really is an influential book. I read this book right after graduating college and being unable to find a job, moving back in with my parents and seemingly taking five steps backward. To me, it was exciting to see a woman dropping everything and figuring her life out one plate at a time.

If You Give a Mouse a Cookie - Another children's classic. I always loved this series recounting the snowballing effects of snacking with animals, and Mouse was the original installment. I'll defend it as a necessary text because it teaching kids about making solid decisions and dealing with consequences...or something.

Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe - I grew up watching this movie and can actually quote it almost line-by-line, and I'll admit Mary Stuart Masterson's portrayal can't be put back on paper. If you haven't seen this movie about the importance of chosen family, read the book first! Fannie Flagg does a great job, but you can't top the screen version. And I know it's English Major sin to offer that suggestion. Lord, help me.

Gourmet Goals and Cooking Confessions

Too often, chefs and even homecooking food bloggers portray an image of being perfect gourmets who can improvise with ease, conquer any recipe and are experts in all cuisines. I don't want to do that here. I intend to show you that no one is without fault and everyone has big goals, even in the kitchen!

So I have a few personal cooking confessions, palate prejudice and gourmet goals to share with you.

Cooking Confessions

• I struggle with multitasking. Too often, I get too ambitious and get overwhelmed cooking. This is one of the reasons I love make-ahead entrees or Crock Pot dishes that take care of themselves so that I can focus on other elements. 
• I can be really shortsighted with cooking. I'm not really creative when left to my own devices but I do feel really confident in my ability to follow a recipe - probably too confident. I think that everything will be much more simple than it is. 
• I can be recipe gullible. I know what makes for good flavor combinations but I often assume that all recipes that get air time must be good. This is dangerous and is the impetus for J's "one Pinterest recipe per meal" rule...
• I'm forgetful with ingredients. This is probably why my skills of improvisation are improving - because I think we have 2 cups of mozzarella but we actually only have 1, so I have to add Parmesan, cheddar and feta to meet my needs. 
• I make assumptions about local grocery stores. I assume that most ingredients are readily available and hopefully in appropriate packaging and price points or I don't fully understand my ingredients - that's what caused the Canned Salmon meltdown of 2012 (who knew it had skin and bones in it?!?!). Another moment to be a better improvisational cook!

For some common cooking mistakes, look here at Real Simple's suggestions to fix food flubs. 

Palate Prejudice 

Here are a few of the ingredients/flavors I despise and try to avoid as often as possible when cooking or eating:

• Fennel/ star anise/ licorice - just why?
• Cilantro - in large quantities, I think it tastes just like soapy dishwater
• Strong liquor flavors - I'm not far enough away from my college drinking (read: vomiting) days to be able to appreciate strong booze again
• Raw, seed-filled tomatoes - I love tomato products and tomatoes without "guts" but I can't stand that slimy stuff!

Gourmet Goals

I've been cooking since I was a kid and have tried a number of types of cuisine and methods of preparation but I still have some goals for dishes and techniques that I want to master. 

• The Art of French Cooking - I've made her Bouef Bourguignon, but I want to try more of Julia Child's French recipes (minus the aspics)
• Savory and sweet souffles - I made one in a rush on Valentine's Day and it was so-so. This dramatic dish needs to be perfect
• Southern staples - most notably fried chicken, biscuits and cornbread
• Perfect knife cuts - if you asked J, he'd probably say my knife skills are irregular at best, insanely dangerous at their worst
• Homemade pie crust and pasta - two of my most favorite carbs!
• A signature cocktail - I know I said I don't like strong liquor flavors earlier, but I do think having a good knowledge of what to order at a dinner or what to shake up at a party is an important grown up skill. And rumor has it, some drinks don't taste just like nail polish remover - if you make the right, you might just enjoy them! 
• Knowledge of meat cuts - I get the poultry ones and some basic red meat cuts but I have no idea what the difference is between various roasts in terms of texture, flavor and cooking needs but also where they are located.
• Food photography for this blog - I know that's petty and probably has a lot to do with both the lighting in our house and my sub-par phone camera but to convey the best food to you, I need to work on my pictures and art direction. J's the artistic one and takes better food photos but I'm trying! 

I shared these tidbits with you as encouragement. Everyone - chef or not -is a work in progress in and out of the kitchen and we have to keep that in perspective. We all have things we like and don't like, no matter how flexible a palate we have; things we want to accomplish and faults to work on. I hope our blog gives you encouragement and shows you that the thing that drives good meals is a passion for food and sharing with folks you love.