Health

I've been feasting on blood oranges lately, ever since I ordered 20 pounds of gorgeous Taroccos from here. Many consider this small, thin-skinned variety the best because of its beautifully balanced sweetness and copious juice. It is seedless and incredibly high in vitamin C, with a gorgeous burgundy interior that develops its color when temperatures drop at night. That's why winter is the time for this fruit, so take advantage now. It's among the season's finest treats. Wondering what our little family of two was doing with 20 pounds? Read on.
Read More...

Last week's visit to my nutritionist was extremely edifying. Sally is such a font of wisdom and information, I always come away feeling energized, newly motivated and armed with a plan. I brought a food log that chronicled every morsel I had ingested for the week prior and we discussed my ongoing uphill battle with my weight, as well as with a general malaise that I could describe only as "a loss of faith." Sally advised me on food, supplements, exercise and meditation, and then she practiced iridology. This is similar to reflexology, in which the feet are held to contain a blueprint of the body, except for the blueprint is in the irises. It's truly amazing what can be discerned through this ancient practice. Sally also uses kinesiology to gauge food sensitivities and supplement doses. If you have no idea what I am talking about or think this all sounds nuts, I recommend you check out Sally's book, Vibrant Living, and her series of DVDs, which fully explain her holistic approach to health and wellness.
Read More...

I have an appointment with my nutritionist this week and in preparation have been keeping a food log. It's made me more aware than usual of precisely what I eat and, though I want to present a realistic scenario, I've been on good behavior (most of the time). We had friends over for dinner this weekend and things got a little out of hand, yet still I wanted a treat while watching the Oscars last night. Something creamy and rich but without dairy or eggs, something to lick leisurely off my spoon as I cackled to G about this one's dress and that one's cosmetic enhancements. Hollywood on display is a golden opportunity for the ultimate bitch-fest and it requires either gin or ice cream. In the absence of both, try this delightful pudding made with chia seeds. Yes, those of Chia Pet fame. They are intriguingly delicious. It's a kinder and gentler alternative, though I was neither.
Read More...

I'm really struggling with my weight these days. A doctor friend told me it's my body's stubborn attempt to hold onto whatever little estrogen is left. My diet is ultra clean. Dessert is a rare treat and, despite my love of cocktails, I'm limiting myself to just one a week. I don't get as much exercise as I should—no snow has meant no snowshoeing, for one thing—but I'm hoping that warmer weather will make it easier to get outside and to use our makeshift gym in the (unheated) barn. My biggest challenge is to not loathe my body, which has outgrown much of my cherished wardrobe, but I am trying to practice compassion. I often consult Christiane Northrup's invaluable book, The Widsom of Menopause, so I know many women go through similar changes, and that they are not irreversible. On the plus side, I now have cleavage. Unfortunately, it's often in places it shouldn't be.
Read More...

My sister-in-law, who lives in the 'burbs, mentioned to me the other week that she had ventured into a local Middle Eastern market and been thrilled with what she discovered. Most towns have at least one ethnic market—Korean, Mexican, Greek—serving not only its immigrant community but anyone smart enough to take advantage of its wares. They present a fantastic opportunity to do a little armchair traveling, and to expand your cooking repertoire in the process. When I lived in L.A., I found the most amazing Thai market and, with the help of this extraordinary book, entered a whole new world of fish sauce, palm sugar, wild lime, sticky rice and green papaya. Of course New York City is like one big ethnic market, but when I want Japanese ingredients, I love to take a trip to Mitsuwa. I've mentioned this enormous Japanese superstore before—its aisles of rice, sake and bonito flakes, ramen stalls and red bean confections—but thought I would show you some of my bounty from a recent visit. The store is located in Edgewater, New Jersey, and well worth your time even if all you come away with is an automated rice cooker.
Read More...

Those were the days. Sometimes I yearn for the suppleness of youth, its insouciance and capacity for indulgence. But it's a fleeting moment of fantasy because I belong irrevocably to this moment. I inhabit this skin with a sense of purpose and without regret. There are times for looking back and times for looking ahead, but there's no time like the present. As Joni Mitchell sings, in her seminal song "Down To You," Everything comes and goes, marked by lovers and styles of clothes. Things that you held high and told yourself were true, lost or changing as the days come down to you.The salad days that matter now are on your plate. Channel your creativity and your quest for health into this ageless combination of the raw and the cooked. Interrupt the dreary weeks of winter with refreshing concoctions crisp with cabbage, celery, apple and bitter greens, and punctuated with sweet bursts of citrus and pomegranate. By all means toss in some protein—a grated hard-cooked egg; some oily tuna or smoked mackerel; a crumbly goat cheese or sharp pecorino. You're looking to create that perfect balance of flavors and textures: crunchy and creamy, sweet and tart, salty and spicy. As in all things, experience enhances your ability and wisdom makes a superb seasoning.
Read More...

One of the great things about starting this blog has been connecting to kindred spirits near and far, some of them with blogs of their own. Distances collapse in the virtual landscape, rendering us all just a keyboard away. But true connections inevitably materialize in 3-D—as recipients of my caramels discovered—and on occasion this means little packages of pure joy winging their way to me from Julia (quince & sour cherry preserves; grape, fig & walnut conserve); from Rob & David (birch syrup and homemade herbes de Provence); and from Janet (wild lime catsup and Buddha's hand preserves). This last creature is an old pal from 20 years ago. We had long gone our separate ways only to chance upon one another and discover how our paths had neatly converged. Janet is an artist (married to an artist), mother and writer living on a farm. Her newish blog, A Raisin & A Porpoise, is full of her hilariously wry wit, but also poignant insights and recipes for nourishing dishes that I actually want to cook right away, like this divine dip and these gingerbread muffins. And the spicy fruit leather, above, which she kindly presents to you here, in her own words.

 

Read More...

The other day, when trawling the aisles of a favorite ethnic market in my quest for inspiring ingredients, I came across a package of brined grape leaves in the refrigerator section. It has long been my intention to try my hand at stuffing these, part of the tradition of dolma, the stuffed vegetable dishes prevalent in the cuisines of the former Ottoman Empire and surrounding regions such as Russia, the Middle East, the Caucasus, and Central and South Asia. In addition to grape leaves, onion, zucchini, eggplant, tomato and peppers are also stuffed with either a meat filling (lamb, beef or pork) or a rice- or grain-based mixture that often includes dried fruit and/or nuts. This summer I plucked handfuls of grape leaves off the vines at River Brook Farm, carefully blanched, rolled and tied them, then placed them in the freezer chest in our basement where they now languish, buried somewhere beneath the bags of golden raspberries, jars of shrimp stock and legs of goat. So I was quite pleased to find the ready-packaged alternative.
Read More...

Valentine's Day is less than a week away. And? you say. Surely you don't buy into such a trumped-up, commercialized holiday! Ah, but love. Love. How can you resist a day set aside especially for the celebration of Love? Consider dispensing with the chocolate and fancy reservations and wrapped presents, but do compose a poem or arrange a fragrant nosegay. Draw a hot bath, or proffer a massage. And by all means, cook something indulgent for your beloved. Rather than the rich, heavy foods that seem to be the norm—how sad that short ribs have been rendered cliché—you may want to consider something a bit lighter. Fondue or a Japanese hot pot, perhaps, to underscore the shared nature of the meal. Is there anything more intimate than two forks clinking together in the same bowl? Serve a dry martini or a delicious fruity wine to set the mood. Whip up a sweet finish that lingers in the mouth as you sing each other's praises. If you are not in love at the moment, it's also wonderful to be with close friends, and celebrate another kind of love. There are so many. Take it wherever you can find it. It's healing, energizing, essential. It's everywhere. All you need is love. (And this wonderful recipe from Dan Barber, chef/owner of Blue Hill.)
Read More...

You go along in life, understanding the course of things, but never really imagining that what you see others endure will befall you. That might be the definition of youth. Because, inevitably, it happens to you. To paraphrase Mia Farrow, life is a series of losses and it's all about the grace and resilience with which you respond. My former mother-in-law once looked at a photo of Liv Ullman on the cover of the New York Times Magazine and said, "Ugh, she's really let herself go." Never mind that the Swedish actress was being lauded for directing a film, what mattered to this woman was that a former beauty now looked like the 62-year-old she was. And I remember feeling disgusted by that, and vowing to forever construe "letting oneself go" as something quite liberating and wonderful.I let my grey hair come in over the past 2 years and there was a certain loss that needed to be mourned there; quietly, mind you. I went from a tousled brunette to an elegant silver without more than a whimper. But now that I am finding it difficult to fit into any of my clothes, now that my skin is becoming slacker and my muscle tone less defined—all those clichés of middle age—I begin to feel a bit of that desperation that sends women under the scalpel. I'm not going to start in with the whole I'm invisible routine. Unless you're Elle Macpherson, that pretty much sets in after age 40. And I'm lucky enough to have a husband who tells me I'm beautiful all the time. But, pathetic as it may be, I am newly committed to holding on to what I have for as long as possible. That entails lots of exercise and watching what I eat. Because, to me, being a glutton is all about expanding your palate not your waistline. It's being greedy for the things that are good and good for you. It means that lunch is about salad.
Read More...