How Safe Is Your Heart From Attack? (Part III)

The food came and I dug into my cheesy, yummy nachos.

Chris ignored his cedar plank salmon steak and immediately went for the stuff arranged around the edges of his plate.

“What are you doing?” I asked, between gooey mouthfuls.

“Eating the vegetables before they get cold,” he said, scooping up piles of green and red stuff and putting them into his mouth.

My own mouth fell open. “Are you kidding me?! I always thought that stuff was just for decoration!”

True story.

That was a scene from one of my first dates with Chris, and a perfect example of how different we were as far as food choices went. It amazed me that anyone would willingly eat their veggies without a threat from mom about no dessert, or privileges being revoked.

Fast forward a quarter of a century. As I previously posted, the situation with our friend Noah inspired Chris and me to begin following the heart-smart South Beach Diet (SBD). It’s basically a low glycemic-index diet, which is a fancy way of saying “low sugar.”

The diet is organized into three phases. PHASE 1 lasts two weeks and has the greatest number of restrictions because it’s in that phase that your body learns to eliminate sugar cravings. PHASE 2 allows you to slowly add fruits and whole grains back into your diet (while still losing weight if you need to lose it). And PHASE 3 is never ending. But the author claims by that final phase it will be no big deal, and you’ll have simply adapted to the new way of eating.

As a self-confessed Sugar Monster, I was doubtful that this diet would really alter my life-long love affair with sugar. I mean, I love pastries, cakes, cookies, chocolate, you name it. I literally had a sweet treat every single day!

In PHASE 1, my biggest hurdle to overcome was my treasured morning Caramel Macchiato (twenty-two grams of sugar). I’m talking SUH-WEEEET, people!

In my attempts to create a replacement, I came up with some pretty horrid combinations of cocoa powder, fat-free cream, stevia, low-fat milk, unsweetened vanilla soy milk, powdered creamer, vanilla extract, almond extract, raspberry extract, …Aaarrrghh!

Nothing made me happy until I discovered this cool website: simplystevia.com. They sell all kinds of flavored stevia in liquid form. I finally engineered an adequate alternative combining flavored coffee beans, sugar-free vanilla caramel Coffee-Mate® and multiple drops of vanilla and toffee stevia. Yum!

Well, Chris and I have now completed 90 days of the SBD and the results are in. I have to say, I’m impressed!

First of all, Chris dropped about 25 pounds. And for me, it’s the weirdest thing! I look at sweet treats I normally crave, like the box of Belgian chocolates hubby bought for me on a recent trip to Europe, and…I …don’t…care. It’s so hard to even write that! I look at all that stuff and feel like I should want it, desire it, crave it. But those old lovin’ feelings just aren’t there. It’s not even particularly painful to pass the stuff up when I’m confronted with it.

Now, this doesn’t mean I’ll never eat those goodies again. Because, I mean, c’mon. God made desserts for a reason, right? And Dr. Agatston even acknowledges it’s fine to cheat on occasion. But for now, I’ll stay the path.

Other changes I’ve noticed are that I have more energy, and honestly, I feel like my brain function has even improved--less of that brain fog feeling. Chris just had a regular doc appointment, and although his cholesterol, blood sugar and blood pressure have always been in the normal range (just like Noah’s were!), his numbers are even better now. This is so encouraging since we’re both at risk for heart disease due to heredity factors. By being proactive this way, we’re hopefully altering our heart-health futures in a positive way.

I realized how much this diet had changed me when we went out to dinner the other night and our food arrived.

As we both dug into our side orders of fresh veggies, I said, “Who would’ve ever believed I’d be ordering steamed broccoli. On purpose!”

Chris just grinned at me and kept eating his own veggies before they got cold.

Would you try a diet if it promised to eliminate your cravings for sweets?

Image by: Mostafa Zamani

How Safe Is Your Heart From Attack? (Part II)

After the shock of what happened with our friend Noah, Chris and I took hard looks at our own genetic predispositions for heart disease. As I mentioned, both my parents have had bypass surgery, as well as Chris’s father. So we resolved to immediately begin eating in a more heart-healthy way.

Noah’s doctor recommended he read the The South BeachDiet by Arthur Agatston, M.D. I bought a copy and devoured it in only a couple of days (an amazing feat as I’m about the slowest reader on the planet). I found the information it contained really interesting!

I’d heard of the South Beach Diet (SBD) before, but since I’ve never been into what I perceived as “fad diets,” I hadn’t paid much attention to it. I figured it was some sort of body building trend for looking good on the beach. It seems I’m not the only one who had misconceptions about it. Many have mistakenly thought it was a low-carb, or low-fat, or even high-fat/high-protein diet.

None of these are accurate.

The diet’s creator, Dr. Agatston, is a cardiologist. He developed the diet back in 1995 specifically to help his cardiology patients improve their heart health. He lives in Southern Florida’s Miami Beach area (thus the diet’s name). After following his diet, his patients not only experienced, significant improvement in their blood chemistry and heart health, but they achieved phenomenal weight loss benefits as well. As a result, word quickly spread and the diet gained national attention.  

But bottom line, his diet started out all about the heart.

The SBD recalibrates the way your body responds to food, sugar in particular. You do this by going through the diet’s three phases, avoiding foods with a high glycemic index (high sugar!), and by:

1. Eating lean sources of protein (chicken, lean beef, fish, etc.)

2. Relying on “good” carbohydrates (vegetables, fruits and whole grains) and “good” fats (olive oil, canola oil and peanut oil)

3. Avoiding bad carbs and bad fats found in most processed foods like white bread and white rice, as well as pasta and potatoes.

Chris and I both wanted the heart health benefit, and he hoped to lose some weight, so we started the plan. For Chris, this diet wasn’t that much of a hardship. He’s a natural veggie lover. For me, on the other hand…well, I’m a sugar monster. I love dessert, donuts, pastries, chocolate. Oh mama, love me some chocolate! Ahem. Sorry, I digress. I figured if this diet actually removed my cravings for my beloved foods, well, that would be all right. I was doubtful, but decided to give it a try. I’ll post our progress periodically on the blog here.

In the meantime, through my SBD reading I discovered some unexpected foodie facts. I thought I’d share five of them with you today.

Five Heart Health Facts You Probably Never Heard Before

1. Starches such as white bread and white potatoes increase blood sugar levels faster than table sugar does. In fact eating a slice of white bread is worse for you than eating ice cream!

2. Immediately after eating a meal high in saturated fat, your arteries become predisposed to constriction and clotting. In essence, if the circumstances are right (or more accurately, wrong!) eating a high-saturated fat meal can actually trigger a heart attack.

3. Instant oatmeal is not a good choice! It’s too processed and thus has less fiber and more bad carbs. If you love oatmeal (Chris does, although I could never understand this), choose the slow-cooking kind and steel cut is the best.

4. Beer is not a good choice either! It’s made from maltose (maltodextrins), this sugar form increases blood sugar faster than any other type.

5. Most people who suffer heart attacks have average cholesterol levels! (It’s your ratio of LDL to HDL that plays a much more significant role.)

Have you ever tried the South Beach Diet? When thinking about your own health, how important do you think it is to pay attention to heredity?

Image by: Mostafa Zamani

How Safe Is Your Heart From Attack?

You may have noticed how much I whined about my hubby and I becoming dreaded Empty Nesters. Well, only two days after abandoning delivering Joshua to his new college dorm room, something happened which made our Empty Nester concerns pale in comparison.

Someone very dear us discovered he needed to have heart surgery, and his story impacted us in a profound way.

It all started a few months ago, when our friend Noah* began noticing his heart racing faster than normal when he ran, a short time later, he began having chest pain. He made an appointment with his regular doc, who did all his blood work and some standard tests.

He’s 49 years old. And his results for blood sugar, cholesterol levels, blood pressure, triglycerides, were all good. His thyroid was fine. He doesn’t smoke, and he’s not obese. His allergies had been flaring up, so the doc suggested that might be the cause and sent him to an allergist. More tests. More good results. But they gave him some allergy medicine and sent him home.

But he was still experiencing chest pain, so his original doc referred him to a cardiologist. This doc ran the standard battery of tests: EKG, stress test (Noah loved bragging about how he scored in the top 85% for his age group!). Again, all good. The cardiologist told him he was fine and sent him home.

NOBODY thought it was his heart.

Except Noah.

He refused to listen to the experts. On his own he "Googled" one of his area’s top local cardiologists and scheduled himself an appointment. When he met with this doctor, even he didn’t think it was Noah’s heart. But he scheduled him for a test called an Electron Beam Computed Tomography (EBCT). It’s a test where they take a three-dimensional, super fast--as in within one heartbeat-- picture of the entire heart and surrounding blood vessels.

It's an extremely accurate test, and it shows everything.

They discovered blockage.

Three days later Noah underwent surgery. (I refuse to call it a procedure! Have you noticed how everything is a “procedure” now? I say, if they’re cutting into your body, it’s surgery! But, I digress.)

The surgeon performed a catheterization which resulted in a stent being placed into one of Noah’s diagonal LAD arteries. Later, the surgeon told him that the vein they put the stent in was 99.9% blocked! He was so close to having a heart attack that it chills me!

I THANK GOD Noah refused to listen to all the experts, choosing to listen to his instincts instead.

Noah had none of the typical risk factors for heart disease, except one. His father had a heart attack in his early forties.

I am shocked at what a significant role heredity plays in our health as opposed to the traditional health issues science usually likes to blame. Both of my parents and my hubby’s father have had bypass surgeries. Noah’s experience was a wake-up call to us. Just because we aren’t experiencing any symptoms at the moment, doesn’t mean we have the slightest clue what is happening within our arteries at this very moment. I have now devoured a book on heart healthy eating habits which we will be practicing from this day forward. And I’ll be blogging about our journey over the some of my next posts.

*Pseudonym

If you had been in Noah’s shoes, would you have trusted the “experts,” or followed your instincts?

Image by: Seyed Mostafa Zamani

Ingenious Advertising!

My hubby received this in an email, and I literally laughed out loud when I saw it. I did a little web surfing and discovered the ad was a real one; it was covered in the July 17, 2012 edition of ADWEEK. Turns out it is a legitimate advertising campaign designed to sell Colgate dental floss. Ingenious and hilarious!

If you haven’t already seen this, check it out! I’ll wait while you take a leisurely scroll through the following three photos…

Now that you’ve had a chance to look them over…

In the first one you will now notice that the lady has an extra finger on her hand. In the second one we have an extra arm resting on the man’s shoulder, and in the last one the man is missing an ear!

So what do you think? Did the ad successfully prove that having food stuck in your teeth draws more attention than any physical defect?

Worked for me!

Link via: Ads of the World

Chocolate is GOOD for you!

Lately, I’ve been working on some health, fitness and nutrition pieces for a client, and what with it being Valentine’s Day and all, I thought I would share some recent discoveries I’ve stumbled upon. Chocolate-related discoveries. I present to you, seven, count ‘em, SEVEN health benefits you get from eating chocolate. (They’re from legit sources and everything!)

• Chocolate is heart healthy! Studies show cocoa may reduce risk of heart disease.

• Some research has linked chocolate consumption to reduced instances of diabetes, stroke and heart attack.

• It helps lower blood pressure and improves vascular function.

• Chocolate has been linked with improved cholesterol levels.

• Chocolate boosts your mood! Chocolate makes us feel good.(Like we needed research to support this one! Clearly if it reverses the effects of Dementors, it's got to be powerful stuff.)

• Chocolate makes you smarter. Seriously! A study published in the Journal of Nutrition says so. See, chocolate has flavonoids. And flavonoids have been linked to increased brain functioning.

• And this one is a real winner. Researchers from the University of California, San Diego, reported in the Archives of InternalMedicine, that people who eat chocolate regularly tend to be thinner than those who never or very rarely consume chocolate. Is this cool or what?!

You’re welcome. Happy Valentine’s Day.

Now go eat some chocolate!

Disclaimer #1: The majority of the good stuff is most prevalent in dark chocolate (65 percent cocoa content and higher), than either milk or white. But hey, it’s chocolate, right?

Disclaimer #2: Chocoholics should still try to control themselves. Doctors remind us that it's important to keep a balanced diet and that all this cool research doesn't necessarily mean people should start downing daily bars of chocolate. Yaddah, yaddah, yaddah.

Disclaimer #3: I’m not a nutrition expert! I merely play one on this blog, particularly when it comes to the subject of chocolate.

Indulge at your own risk.

Image by 1la

The Real Way to Handle Stress

I poked at the baked chicken and broccoli on my dinner plate and sighed. “I’m not really hungry.”

“Why not?” Josh forked in another mouthful, chewing industriously.

“Uh…I think I ate too much earlier,” I mumbled.

He arched a brow. “Moooom? Were you stress eating again?”

I arched a brow right back at him and getting up from the dinner table, walked over to his homework spot to point out the towering pile of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup wrappers.

“Yeah, well…” At least he had the grace to look sheepish.

My son and I were both under a lot of pressure last week. He had high school finals to contend with, and I had a writing project with a tight deadline. Unfortunately, even after years of careful parenting, I’ve managed to pass my terrible stress-eating habit onto my boy. We both chowed down on junk food with abandon.

The thing is, I know it’s not healthy. I think every stress eater knows it’s not healthy. So why do we do it? Why does our body crave stuff that’s not good for us whenever we’re under pressure?

I “Googled” the topic and discovered one reason may be because under stress, our body produces extra cortisol, a.k.a. “the stress hormone.” And cortisol causes cravings for sweet and salty food, a.k.a. “junk food.” In the olden days, cortisol served a purpose, helping people bulk up on food to sustain them through times of scarcity. However, here in the suburban Midwest, where food is rarely scarce, we simply bulk up. Period.

Another reason we may stress eat is simply nervous energy. Some people bite their nails or grind their teeth. And some people eschew the unopened bag of baked tortilla chips and instead munch on Cheetos, or endless strands of Twizzlers, or uh…stuff like that, maybe.

Then I Googled, “healthy ways to deal with stress,” and found a bunch of common sense advice from experts. After contemplating it all, I thought, Really? And came up with my own, more practical advice (at least I think it’s more practical):

EXPERT TIP #1: EXERCISE.

My advice: FUGGEDABOUT IT.
I actually enjoy exercising, but now isn’t the time! (Okay, maybe squeeze in a few daily stretches to stay loose.)

EXPERT TIP #2: AVOID CAFFEINE AND SUGAR; EAT HEALTHY, BALANCED MEALS.

My advice: NOT. HAPPENING!
My daughter’s away at college and my boy is 17 years old. They both know a healthy diet includes fresh fruits and vegetables, lean meats, and high-grain breads. I’ve done my job. So if I choose to eat three Snickers Bars for dinner one night, what’s the big deal? The key is, don’t force yourself to eat the healthy food on top of it. And voilá! Weight gain successfully avoided! But DO load up on vitamins! This helps counteract the effect of all the unhealthy eating. And as far as caffeine, I say drink up! This counteracts the sugar crash you’re sure to experience from ingesting all the junk food and keeps you going well into the wee hours.

EXPERT TIP #3: RELAX: GET PLENTY OF SLEEP, TAKE LONG BATHS WITH SCENTED CANDLES, GET A MASSAGE, CALL A FRIEND, OR CURL UP WITH A GOOD BOOK.

My advice: SERIOUSLY. NOT HAPPENING!
C’mon! One of the big reasons we’re stressed is because we don’t have enough time to do what needs to be done. So how are we supposed to fit in all this great stress-relieving stuff?! You can do all those things when the crisis is over. Think of them as rewards for a stressful situation well handled.

Disclaimer: I am NOT a medical expert, I’m only playing one on this blog. This advice is purely for entertainment purposes and any similarity to real advice is a bizarre coincidence.

So how do you handle stress? Any healthy tips?

Cooking Burnout

For some odd reason, I’m always drawn to cookbooks and recipe magazines. It doesn’t matter if I’m in a gift shop on vacation, or waiting in line at the grocery store. They pull me in like a kid to a candy counter. And I devour them. Tasting the ingredients on my tongue as I read and dream about those dishes. Hot, fragrant and fresh from the oven.

As long as I’m not the one cooking them, that is.

Does anybody remember Lisa’s “hot cakes” from the old television show, Green Acres? Okay, I’m not that bad, but my culinary skills definitely leave something to be desired. And unfortunately, I don’t have Zsa Zsa Gabor’s “hotness” factor to make up for my lack of technique in the kitchen.

To be honest, I didn’t realize I even had a cooking problem until recently. Maybe because this deficiency hasn’t always been the case. Over the years, my culinary talents have followed a sort of bell-shaped curve.

As a teen, I started out pretty lame. Never did much cooking while living at home with my parents, aside from acting as “sous-chef” on occasion. During my college days I survived on and bologna ‘n cheese sandwiches supplemented by Doritos, M&M’s, (and sneaking tidbits from my roommates’ home-cooked meals when they weren’t looking). And believe it or not, my hubby cooked dinner the first six years we were married!

Then along came our first child. I became a stay-at-home mom and somehow making family meals ended up on my plate. I was cautious. Started out slow, following simple recipes to the letter. Gradually, my skills improved and I could diverge from the written word a bit. I even figured out how to use the Crockpot we’d received as a wedding gift.

But I think my skills must have peaked about the time my youngest was in middle school because I’ve been on a steady downhill progression ever since.

The thing is, I’m not sure why. It’s not that I don’t like cooking. Cooking is creative and I’m a creative person. Maybe the problem is I try to get too creative. Bored with simply following the recipe, I attempt to add my own personal flair…and fail. Epic fail.

I know part of the issue is being born without that female gene that allows women to multitask. Whenever I am cooking, if I attempt even the tiniest conversation, or to answer the phone or— Heaven forbid—sit down at the computer for “just a sec,” well, forget it. Whatever lovely cuisine I had planned is history.

It’s gotten so bad my son actually photographs my failed dinner “experiments” and sends them to his sister at college with notes attached stating: “SHE EXPECTS ME TO EAT THIS!!!” My daughter in turn finds great humor in posting these photographs on the web within her own blog.

Yeah. Real funny.

I struggled with what to do about this issue, even considered pulling a trick I learned from an old college friend who once confessed he “made dinner” for his new girlfriend by ordering delicious Chinese food from a local restaurant, then raced home to dump it all into his own pots and pans before she arrived.

But that could get expensive.

Then I considered taking cooking lessons. But my youngest is now a junior in high school. In two years we’re empty nesters. What do I need great cooking skills for then? I don’t even have to pretend I’m eating my vegetables anymore if I don’t want to.

I finally concluded the real problem is: I’m burned out. Heck, after 20 years of cooking for my family, I’m ready to retire. So instead of cooking lessons, I think it’s time to pass the scorch—er, torch. Yessiree, maybe I’ll just kick back and let my beloved children do the cooking. How about that? My son can handle the school year, and my daughter can take care of the summers. Sure, they may not be happy about it at first. But I’m actually helping them develop a necessary life skill. It’s only good parenting, right? And for me, it’s a win-win. Nice dinners on the table every night (at least none worse than I’m serving now), and I don’t have to listen to any more jokes or view any more online pictures of my cooking fiascos.

And just for the record, I am a decent baker. I make great snickerdoodles and a mean batch of M & M/chocolate chip cookies. So I’ll still be able to pull off the successful cookie-baking grandma role someday. But for now…

Seriously. I think it’s a good plan.

It’s got potential.

Do I Love My Daughter Or Do I Love My Daughter?

(That’s a rhetorical question, in case you were wondering!)

Image by: Celticblade

 This post will be short, because I’m in the midst of co-hosting a Harry Potter Deathly Hallows – Part 2 Premiere Bash with my daughter. She and her friends will be attending the midnight showing tonight.

I’ve written posts in the past about my failed cake attempts, and I believe I’ve mentioned that both my daughter and son find great humor in taking cell phone pictures of my myriad cooking disasters to share with friends and the rest of cyberspace. But when my kids were little, a good friend of mine taught me some basic cake decorating techniques and I successfully made a variety of decorated cakes throughout their early years. It’s been about eight or nine years since I’d made one of them, however, and I’d forgotten how time intensive they can be.

I was up into the wee hours of the morning completing this cake for her party. So, a mere three hours and three exploding cake decorator bags later, here is the final result:

 Not bad, eh? I must say, no matter how this cakes tastes, I made it look pretty cool, right? I’m patting myself on the back right now. (Well, at least before anybody tries eating it!)

Writers Behaving Badly

I don't want to judge. But I'm going to.

Here it is: I am extremely annoyed with freelance writers who will do anything for a buck.

All right, at the moment I'm mostly ticked off at myself for falling for a scam facilitated by the skills of a freelance writer. But the scam got me thinking about some of the immoral freelance writing jobs I've encountered since deciding to earn my living this way.

First of all, THE SCAM:
It was around 10:30 p.m. a couple of weeks ago. I was on my laptop while hubs was watching T.V.

"Oh, hey," he said, looking over at me. "If you're online, can you order me that Super Amazing Diet Product (SADP) I was telling you about?"

"What was it again?" I asked absently.

He described the news article he'd read online about SADP. "The reporter included her journal entries for four weeks. She was really impressed by how effective it was at helping her lose weight and feel healthy."

I did a search for the article. Sure enough, a nice, little news story written by a "Channel 6 News" reporter, her picture was by the piece and everything.

"Free trial! Sure, I'll order it—there's nothing to lose… Nothing to lose, nothing to lose... (Can you hear the echo in here?)

So a few clicks and credit card numbers later and his free trial was on its way. In retrospect, I can't believe we fell for it. We are plenty old enough to know if something sounds too good to be true, it is. I'd like to blame my gullibility on the late hour. Blame it on my hubby. But alas, I can't. The next day, I mentioned it to my mother, my personal wise woman of all things nutrition related.

"Oh Holly, that's just a big scam," she said. "I tried the real stuff from the health food store and it didn't do anything. I think that article is a scam, too."

Uh-oh.

In the light of day, I found the article again. Unbelievable! I spotted something critical I'd missed the night before. In small print at the top of the page was the word "Advertorial." Barely noticeable with all the "Channel 6 News" logos and network television symbols decorating the page. (As was SADP's intent.)

NOTE: For my non-writer readers, an advertorial is essentially an advertisement in an article format. Advertorials are a common form of advertising and not intrinsically bad, but I feel this one was shady as it simulated an actual news story written by a reporter.

I buzzed back to SADP's website and read the fine print of the Terms and Conditions. The program is set up to begin charging unsuspecting free-trial users $80 a month, plus shipping and handling if they don't cancel within a specified time period (conveniently, often before they've even received the trial product.) The website had an "easy button" for cancelling online. Great, I clicked it. "For an additional $20 in stuff, you can cancel right away," it said. No. Flippin'. Way. I called customer service instead. The automated system disconnected me. Three times. In short, every way the company "offered" to let me cancel, didn't work. Even their contact address was an unclickable link!

I finally sent off a blistering e-mail announcing our official cancellation of their slimeball product and letting them know I'm monitoring daily and if they try to stick one measly penny on my credit card, I'm disputing it.

MY THOUGHTS

After spending two hours messing around with this ridiculousness, I fumed, thinking about the writer who'd been hired to compose that lying-pile-of-horse-hockey article.

How could he or she sleep at night?

I locate writing jobs, including legitimate advertorial projects, through a variety of reputable sources. Yet I've still come across some pretty pathetic stuff. One company I encountered hired writers to write high school and college students' term papers! I was horrified. I know seasoned professional writers are aware of this. But if you're a newbie, I'm telling you now, don't do it. It's not worth it. It's better to hold out for the legitimate jobs. They really are out there. And at least you'll be able to sleep at night.



Image by: _gee_

Happy Thanksgiving!

May you have a truly blessed time spent with loved ones.

(I was sent this video by a friend and I thought it was adorable. A most fitting reminder to have a gratitude attitude--especially for our food . ;o)

Class Project

I've always believed my kids should do their own school projects, even back when they were in elementary school and had their very first "projects": Write three sentences about snow and glue cotton balls into a snowman shape at the bottom of the page. (I mean, you could always tell which children's parents had made the snowmen for them.) Over the years, I've helped a little, but not loads. And with my kids now in high school you'd think I'd be pretty much out of the "helping with class projects" picture, wouldn't you?

Uh, no.

The other day, my son was assigned a project that was due in two days: Make a Central or South American dish for Spanish class, and it couldn't be something easy like guacamole or salsa.

I was in a hurry when he explained it. We Googled "easy Honduran recipes" in honor of his uncle, (my youngest brother was adopted from there) and pulled up a recipe for "buñelos," featuring ingredients I had on hand. Score!

Josh came home the next day with lots of homework: a math packet to complete, a science test to study for, 45 pages of a book to read, a Spanish worksheet to finish, and…buñelos to make. After dinner, I left him to mix the ingredients. After much clattering of the silverware drawer, other drawers and several dramatic sighs, I finally caved and helped.

I watched as he s-l-o-w-ly scooped flour into the measuring cup.

"How much flour do you need?"

"Six cups."

SIX CUPS! I looked dubiously at my flour container, then mentally added flour to my grocery list.

Over the next hour, he painstakingly measured in the remaining ingredients. "We're out of salt now," he said when I came back to check on him.

Add salt to the grocery list.

"Um, mom I still need to finish the rest of my homework." He looked worried; it was now 7:45 p.m.

"Okay," I sighed. "I'll help."

The dough was sticky and jammed my beaters. When I tried to clear them, dough spattered the walls, the countertop, the dog and me. Grrr! He'd doubled the recipe to make enough for every kid. So after cleaning the mess, I formed 40 round balls of dough.

Next step: let sit for 30 minutes. 30 MINUTES! It was already 8:45 p.m. Fabulous. So they sat. I stared at them while they sat. They didn't do anything interesting.

Sitting allows the buñelos to dry out so they don't absorb too much oil.

What do they mean, "too much of the oil"? I look at the recipe again.

Pour oil, 1" thick into the bottom of a pan and heat.

Oh. My. Gosh! This is DEEP FRYING!

"Josh, can you bring me the fire extinguisher?"

He carried it into the kitchen. "Mom, you know you can't use this on an oil fire, right?"

"Of course I know that!" How come my 15-year-old knows this and I don't?

"Okay," he says calmly, and leaves the kitchen to finish his homework.

I dumped the entire bottle of oil into the pan, (add oil to the shopping list) said a prayer, and heated it.

Roll each ball flat.

I do this. The end result is this thin, circle-shaped blob. I eased it into the hot oil, suddenly realizing I could only cook one of these babies at a time. I looked at the remaining 39 balls of dough.

"Yo Josh, how's that homework coming?"

"I've got another 30 pages."

Now it's my turn to sigh dramatically.

As it cooked, I noticed something else. "Hey, this is an Elephant Ear! Why didn't the bloomin' recipe say it was an Elephant Ear, maybe we'd have picked something else!" I grumbled.

As each Elephant—er, I mean buñelo came out of the pan I placed it on paper towels to drain, sprinkling both sides with cinnamon sugar.

At 10:15 p.m. Josh entered the kitchen, his eyes were drooping. "What should I do?"

As much as I wanted to, I couldn't make him do it. He was obviously exhausted.

"You have to cook at least one," the mom-making-her-kid-do-his-own-homework-in-me said.

"Okay." He did it with a yawn.

"Go to bed, buddy. I'll finish."

A little after midnight, the buñelos were cooled and packaged for school.

I yawned, and made a note to go grocery shopping.

All I have to say is, I'd better get an "A."

Devastating News

I just received some devastating news. My son informed me he is not going trick-or-treating this year! It was bad enough when my daughter stopped.

I’m having déjà vu. This reminds me of how I felt when my daughter was 2-1/2 years old and I learned that naptimes didn’t last forever. Ridiculously, it had never occurred to me that my child would actually grow older and not require that down time any more—regardless of the fact that mommy still needed it! This move away from trick-or-treating is affecting me the very same way, and it’s devastating on several counts.

First, I wanted my final season! I’d already anticipated this would be his last year for trick-or-treating because he’s 15 years old. And I personally think it’s weird when driver’s licensed teens sporting five o’clock shadow, park at the end of my driveway, ring my doorbell and mumble trick or treat in deep manly voices while expectantly holding out their candy-stuffed pillow case towards me.

Second, I’m sad because this signals the end of an era. I’ve already had to deal with the mental reality that both of my babies are in high school, now THIS! When did they change from giggling toddlers to mature, composed teens able to have intelligent conversations with me about art, authors, politics, and religion?

But worst of all, more devastating than my previous two points, is the fact that there won't be bags of candy for me to raid anymore! Wah! Just like naptimes, mommy still needs this; I look forward to it every year! The kids returning from their trick-or-treating excursions with their huge hauls. Dumping out their overloaded bags, ooohing and aaaahing over them late into Halloween night. The next day, they would each pack a few treats for their lunches, leaving their bags trustingly on the kitchen countertop. They headed off to school, completely unaware that I foraged through those bags on a daily basis—snarfing up their Take 5s, Baby Ruths, Whopper packets, and Butterfingers.

But no more. Sigh.

Well, fine! I guess I’ll just have to take this into consideration when I shop for the Halloween candy I pass out to our neighborhood kiddies. Sure my husband may be suspicious as to why there are SO MANY MORE bags of candy than usual waiting for disbursement. He may doubt me when I claim that I’ve noticed more kids running around the neighborhood lately. But hey, he’ll ultimately be grateful for my foresight because I’ve busted him foraging through the kids’ bags before too!

Yup, we’ve moved on from the Candy Zone, and we’re now entering the Par-TAY Zone. Instead of trick or treating, both kids will be attending Halloween parties this year. I must admit, we’ve hosted a couple of murder-mystery parties for my daughter’s friends and they’re a blast! (We’ve used this site for all our party materials; check it out if you’re interested: Dinner and a Murder Mystery Games.) My son will be attending a scary-movie-night party. Not my bag, but he’s really looking forward to it.

As always, there are positives and negatives to every stage in our children’s lives. I know they’ll have a lot of fun hanging out with their friends. I need to just get over it, I guess. Maybe I’ll drown my sorrows in some chocolate. Pass me a Kit Kat, will ya’?

Image by Rochelle et. al.

Teens & Drinking: What Would You Do?

My daughter and I have a pretty open relationship. She’s actually a really cool kid, way more level-headed and mature than I was at 17. But she presented me with a dilemma a few weeks ago, and I still haven’t decided what to do about it.

We were sitting around one afternoon, and she mentioned that one of her 16-year-old friends, whom I’ll refer to as TT (Teen Trouble!) had begun drinking alcohol. TT is not a close friend of my daughter’s, more of an acquaintance-type friend. TT told her that (s)he drank alcohol whenever visiting a certain friend’s house. TT explained the friend’s parents not only provided the alcohol, but played drinking games with TT along with their own child. The reason TT’s parents don’t know is because TT spends the night at the friend’s home whenever they drink. I was shocked; and had an immediate flashback to my own teen years.

When I was in high school, there were some parents who provided alcohol to their children and friends who came over. Their philosophy was that “hey, they’re going to do it anyway, may as well get wasted here in my house.” Of course, as a kid, I never thought much about it, except to be impressed at how “cool” so-and-so’s parents were. But now, looking through the eyes of a parent….

What the heck is wrong with these “adults”?! Is it really that important to be the “cool” parent? And news flash: it is so NOT cool!

So now comes the dilemma part. I sat down and wrote a letter to the parents of my daughter’s acquaintance. It is still sitting in my planner pocket. Unmailed. I hesitate for several reasons: I don’t know TT’s parents very well, and I certainly don’t know the parents who are providing the alcohol. I don’t want my daughter to feel she can’t share things with me anymore.

I’ve thought about sending the letter anonymously. The problem is I don’t know how many other people TT has told. Would there be repercussions against my daughter? But, if the situation were reversed, I would want to know!

I’m torn about how to handle this. What would you do?

Image by: Timsnell

How Far Would You Go to Eat Some Chocolate?

I just spent half an hour on the phone calling six different 1-800 numbers just so I could eat some chocolate.

Look, it’s that critical time of the month when I really need my chocolate, you know?

Now the reason I had to spend all that time and effort is due to the fact that my darling husband is a safety nut. A super safety nut, God bless ‘im, who read an article on Friday evening about how the Chinese melamine contamination of milk products had been extended to include chocolate. And he wasn’t clear on precisely which types of chocolate were affected so he banned us from eating any of it. Which was, of course, the right thing to do. Buuuuttt…

Our treat bowl just sat there all weekend, tempting us with its chocolatey-ness while we waited for the Hershey’s, Starbucks, Lindt and Mars offices to open on Monday morning so I could call and verify the safety of consuming their products. (Yeah, we kind of have a lot of chocolate sitting around here. Heh, heh.)

My sugar-monster son would sigh loudly as he searched fruitlessly through the cupboards for “something fun” to eat. We moaned together over our losses throughout Saturday and Sunday.

But fear not chocolate lovers everywhere!

Sacrificing precious writing time, I personally called Hershey’s, Mars, Lindt, and Starbucks today, and all their chocolate and flavored coffees are perfectly safe to eat. Thank goodness! I’m tellin’ ya’, you don’t want to see me when I haven’t had my chocolate. It ain’t pretty.

Image by: Digital Sextant

Patticake

BTW, if you love baking and are interested in the RIGHT way to bake a cake (among other things), then check out this blog of my good friend's niece, Patti. She's an entrepreneur who has established a catering business, and is currently applying to the dietetics program at the University of Michigan. She blogs about cooking with some great recipes included! Hmmm...come to think of it, maybe I'll hire her for Joshua's next birthday cake. :)

You Take the Cake

We celebrated my youngest son’s f-ff-fourteenth birthday a few days ago. ‘Scuse me. I have trouble getting that out. My baby is 14! Ahem. Anyway, I used to be really creative in decorating my children’s birthday cakes.

I’ve never been all that great at the actual cake-baking part. In fact, my initial attempts would turn out dry with big clumps of cake sticking to the bottom of the pan even though I’d greased and floured my heart out.

After a couple of failed cakes, a friend of mine introduced me to Betty Crocker cake mix and fun-shaped single layer cake pans. She’d taken a cake decorating class and gave me a private lesson on how to form beautiful icing creations. I was off and running, designing elaborate Barbie, Harry Potter, soccer field and beach scene cakes. Finally, I could mask my lack of cake baking ability with pretty frosting techniques!

The trouble now, is that my kids have outgrown these single-layer cakes in the shape of animals and cartoon characters. For the past two years, my son has requested a traditional layer cake. So my true skills have resurfaced, and it ain’t pretty.

I think part of the problem is that I don’t get much practice. My hubby always wants cherry pie for his “birthday cake,” my daughter requests a super easy Bundt cake recipe with no frosting involved, and I refuse to make a birthday cake for myself when it’s my birthday. So I only make a “real” birthday cake once a year for my son.

My first attempt last year was a bit crummy. Literally. I couldn’t figure out how to frost the darn thing without getting cake crumbs mixed in with it. I managed to camouflage this frosting faux pas by covering the cake with decorative sprinkles. (Can I think on my feet or what?!)

But this year, the jig is up. I finally hit rock bottom.

When the two layers came out of the oven, they looked particularly rounded on top. My engineering-minded husband suggested I needed to lop the rounded centers off to make them level with the top of the pan.

I scoffed at him, “Nobody does that!”
He arched a brow, “Professional bakers do.”
“They do not! That’s ridiculous!”
“Okaaaay,” he replied in that voice you use when you’re letting the person know they’re making a big mistake, but you’re going to just go ahead and let them make it.

After the layers had cooled, I frosted the rounded top of one layer. Flipping the second layer upside down, I slapped its rounded belly up against the bottom layer, so I had a nice, new cake-pan flat top to work with. There was a good three-inch gap all around the edges, but no worries. I figured I’d just fill it in with frosting and nobody would ever know.

With the top frosted, I proceeded to the sides. As I worked, I noticed the top layer would slip to one side or the other, gliding down the hill of the cake layer below it. Instead of working like glue as I’d hoped, holding the top layer in place, the frosting was acting more like oil, creating a slippery slope. I kept shoving the top layer back up as I hurried my way around the sides, hoping that once I frosted that baby all the way around it would be permanently stuck in position.

Finally finished, I looked at my creation. Huge air holes kept popping open along the sides because of the giant gaps that lay hidden beneath. I patched the air holes and quickly covered the entire lopsided mess with my cake cover.

Dinner time came along and we ate Joshua’s favorite dinner of pizza, red grapes, and pop. Then it was time for the great unveiling.

I removed the cake cover and my jaw fell open. The precariously balanced top layer had literally cracked open along several fault lines. It looked like an earthquake had hit it. The entire family looked at it. Looked at me. Looked back at it.

“Sorry, buddy.”
Josh patted my back, “That’s okay, mom. It’s still cake, right?” (Gotta love the sugar monster!)

We officially named it the “Happy Birthquake cake,” and ate it.

So are you ready for a picture? (If you have young children reading this blog with you, you may want to cover their eyes.)

Yikes! It is still cake, right? Right?

(Sigh.) Okay, I give up. I really do. I mean, I can admit that we all have special gifts and talents, and cake baking is absolutely NOT one of mine.

I wouldn’t want to deprive someone out there from using their special gifts and talents, would I? So look out bake shops, here I come!

Taming the Sugar Monster

I just lost my temper with my son.

Exercising my new grocery shopping habits (Let's Talk Turkey Blog), I purchased ten snack-size Three Musketeers candy bars for one dollar! I selected those candy bars especially because they are one of my daughter’s favorites. She’d had a particularly rough week, and I wanted to do something special for her.

After dinner I noticed her searching the cupboards for dessert and suggested she might like a Three Musketeers bar.

“There aren’t any Three Musketeers bars in here, mom.”
“Yeah, there are!” my son piped up. “I saw them.”
“Well, they’re not here now,” she replied.
I intervened. “What are you talking about, I just bought them this afternoon.”

Assuming she simply wasn’t looking hard enough, I began digging through the treat bowl we keep in the cupboard.

I dug deeper.

I dumped the entire contents of the bowl onto the kitchen counter.

No candy bars!

I looked at my son in astonishment. “You ate TEN candy bars!”

“No, I didn’t eat ten! No way did I eat ten!” He said, eyes wide.

But sure enough, he did. That boy came home from school and ate TEN Three Musketeers bars for his healthy after-school snack.

I exploded. What was he doing to his growing body! How could he choose garbage as his source of nutrition when he was feeling hungry after school! I ranted about how it wasn’t helping his muscles grow, how it wasn’t doing anything positive for his body at all. By the time I was done, he was in tears, and I was frustrated.

As he stormed off to be alone, I thought about the whole sugar issue. See, I think I got so angry because I know exactly where he got that Sugar Monster that lives inside of him. He got it from me. It’s hereditary. It’s in our genes.

The entire reason we even have a “treat bowl” is because of me and the way I grew up.

As a child, my parents were um…how shall I put this— health freaks, really. They made their own yogurt, we ate granola, and multi-grain bread that weighed as much as we did; and the only occasions we had candy in the house were Halloween and Easter.

When I went away to college, woo hoo! I lived on candy and junk food for about a year before I finally figured out I actually didn’t feel so good filling my body up with so much junk on a daily basis.

After I got married and we had children, I suggested to my husband, (who actually prefers a plate of vegetables to dessert—can you even believe that!) that perhaps we should have candy and cookies available for our children to eat in moderation. Then maybe it wouldn’t be such a big deal to them, and maybe they wouldn’t become as obsessed as I had been.

This worked well with our daughter. She can take it or leave it. But our son…well, yep. It was fine when they were little and I totally controlled the amount they ate. But as they’ve gotten older, and I’ve gotten busier, the treat bowl seems to disappear faster and faster.

You know, God didn’t have to make sugar. He didn’t have to make flavors at all. He could have made a bunch of mush for us to eat and we’d never have known the difference. But instead, he made such a wonderful variety of foods in different textures and flavors: sour to sweet, spicy to bland, buttery, juicy, fruity. All these amazing sensations for us to enjoy. He did it because he loves us, and wants us to be able to enjoy food as well as take nourishment from it.

But for my son (as it was for me), the key is self-control and learning to tame the Sugar Monster. He’s a good kid. I’m sure he’ll eventually succeed. But in the meantime, maybe I’ll stop filling the treat bowl quite so often. Start leaving sliced fruit, cheese and whole-grain crackers out for him to nibble on. (Oh my gosh, I sound like my MOTHER! :) Live and learn, right.

Anybody have some healthy EASY after-school snack suggestions?