mizducky's migrations: a weight management blog with attitude

In praise of watermelon

"The true Southern watermelon is a boon apart, and not to be mentioned with commoner things. It is chief of this world's luxuries, king by the grace of God over all the fruits of the earth. When one has tasted it, he knows what the angels eat. It was not a Southern watermelon that Eve took; we know it because she repented."

This Mark Twain quote just slays me. And I just had some watermelon deserving of such an epigram.

It was one of those baby seedless jobbies from Dulcinea Farms, and it was crisp-fleshed, super-sweet, intensely flavorful, and a beautiful ultra-watermelon-red. Just a few soft little white seeds, too. And it's also healthy as all-get out, naturally low in calories and the deep red color shows how loaded with lycopene it is.

I should have taken a photo of it, it was so pretty, but wanting to eat it kind of distracted me. There are leftovers; they're all cubed up and squirreled away in the fridge. Ice-cold watermelon on hot humid day--yum.

Random stuff that's been turning me on recently

Too hot to think of grand all-encompassing rant topics, so here instead are a few bits and pieces that have been making me smile:

• Blueberries: I was shopping in my local Food-4-Less yesterday, and spotted blueberries at $2.49 for a full-pound plastic clamshell box. Usually it's something like $2.49 for a tiny half-pint container, so of course I had to buy the cheapo berries. I quickly remembered how much I adore these little balls of beauty--some were tart, and some were meltingly sweet, and all of them were totally yummy (note the use of the past tense there--between last night and this morning, I've basically inhaled them all already). Blueberries are also low in calories and packed with anti-oxidants, but the main thing is that they taste so goooooood.
• Fixing my pressure cooker: my housemate innocently ran my pressure cooker, lid and all, through the dishwasher. My concerns about this were proved when I next went to use it, and the damn thing wouldn't hold its pressure at all. Now I had carefully saved the instruction manual, but of course I saved it in some really safe place that I can no longer remember. A bit of traipsing around the web, though, finally revealed that one of the safety interlock thingies in the lid of my Manttra pressure cooker is designed to give out under overly high temperatures--like when the pressure in the cooker goes too high ... or when subjected to the super-hot water in a dishwasher. But all's well that ends well--the replacement part cost maybe four bucks with shipping, and Manttra got the part to me in three days. There was a certain amount of expletives involved in taking the lid's pressure-interlock mechanism apart, fiddling with all the fiddly bits, and putting it back together again. But I tested the cooker out, and voila! it works again! Housemate is now on alert not to put the cooker lid in the dishwasher, and I feel absurdly pleased with myself for my little bit of detective and fixit work.
• More personal dance therapy: I went to hear one of my friend's bands play this past Thursday night, and once again enjoyed another spate of free-form dancersize. This time I managed not to damage myself so much that I was hobbling around like an old lady the next day. But I did note that I really need to get myself some better dancing shoes. All my current footwear has really fierce non-slip soles, mainly because with my crappy joints I became really paranoid about slipping and falling and banging myself up even more. However, non-slip soles are definitely *not* what you want when trying to boogie on a good hardwood dance floor. In fact, a shoe that grips the floor is the worst thing in the world for putting unpleasant amounts of torque on one's knee joint while attempting to shake one's booty. So I am now forced--forced, mind you!--to go buy more shoes. I'm so heartbroken about this (insert glyph of maniacal laughter here).
• Speaking of being forced to buy more stuff for myself ... I've now not only lost enough weight that I really desperately needed to buy some new smaller clothes, but now some of this new smaller clothing is starting to fall off me too. I am trying my best to shop the sales and discount joints as much as possible, but I also want to honor my newer, smaller bod by not clothing it in crap. So I'm treating myself to a few nice (but still bargain) things. All I can say is, my church's rummage sale organizers are really gonna love me come October!

More on "meaty" vegetables

I braised some collards this evening. Actually, true confessions time: due to the continuing hot weather, I did the desperation microwave braise again. Anyway ... many cookbooks advise you to just discard the stems of the collard leaves, but somehow, throwing out perfectly good veggie-parts just offends my tightwad sensibilities. Plus, I have discovered that I really like the collard stems. I slice them up thinly to equalize their cooking time with the leaves, and then toss 'em all in together.

I love the way the collard stems get when they're braised (even when desperation microwave braised). The insides get creamy-textured but still with a little bite. Almost gelatinous. Really analogous to the texture of certain high-collagen braised meats that I love so. Vegetables that, with the appropriate cooking techniques, capture that meaty texture are really great for mollifying my "meat tooth" despite my new low-meat ways. Vegetable stems seem to be especially given to this kind of texture when braised, like broccoli stems, and cauliflower stems and cores. Root vegetables produce a slightly different texture, but still a satisfying one. 

Braising isn't the only technique that can produce this texture in veggies. Roasting is especially good at bringing out their meatlike tendencies, even in relatively watery vegetables (the roasting drives out a lot of that moisture). The other night I sliced and roasted a couple of bulbs of fennel, and the section right around the root got wonderfully creamy, plus sweet in that way licorice does. I roasted them with chunks of onion and a liberal grinding of black pepper and they were terrific. 

With this continued heat, it's become really hard to persuade myself to do any kind of cooking at all, even desperation microwaving. But I will still try and sneak in a panful of roasted veggies in the cool hours of the morning, simply because the results in terms of texture are so rewarding.

That healthy Mediterranean cuisine thing

The white-coat brigades seem to still be arguing over whether the much-hyped "Mediterranean diet" is provably healthier than other diets, but nobody denies that it's a really appealing opportunity for healthy eating. I say opportunity because, well, of course if you go and tank on huge bowls of pasta at your local Olive Garden, that's not particularly healthy--or particularly Mediterranean, for that matter. But if you exercise some portion control and are treated to authentically light and fresh foods well-prepared in the true Mediterranean way, it is easy to enjoy a meal that is both terrifically yummy and terrifically healthy.

It was my great good fortune to be invited to such a meal this past Saturday, courtesy of a silent auction through the Unitarian Universalist church I belong to. Our hostess J.M. served us a lovely dinner in her garden, during which we made all the typical stops of a rustic Italian dinner: antipasti, salad, pasta course, meat course with vegetables, and dessert ... but in light little servings, spread out over a leisurely couple of hours of chatting and nibbling, so that the dinner was almost more like the many-small-meals pattern I have adopted for my regimen than the heavy experience we usually think of as a "formal dinner." And the foods we nibbled on all fit well within my regimen as well.

Our antipasti included mixed olives, salame, little squares of parmesan annointed with balsamic vinegar, and cubes of canteloupe wrapped in slivers of prosciutto--I stuck mainly with the canteloupe, which was lovely. Next came a refreshing salad of spinach and radicchio, with walnuts and a soft white cheese (I'll need to check with my hostess as to the type of cheese), and a simple olive oil dressing.

The pasta course was a neat little bowlful of bowtie pasta, dressed simply with fresh chopped tomatos and basil, and more olive oil. One of the things the skeptics criticize the Mediterranean diet for is the large amount of fat the diet includes, but when almost all of that is due to olive oil, you know that at least it's a heart-healthy fat. And if you don't succumb to the urge to mop up every last drop of that oil with large amounts of bread, it's one of the gentler indulgences you can allow yourself.

The "meat course" was actually poultry, specifically herbed chicken baked to perfect juiciness, accompanied by asparagus, yellow squash, and onions. I was mightily grateful for the beautiful vegetables--as you all know I have this thing about how veggies so often get short shrift on the standard American dinner plate. In fact, if you've been keeping track, you'll have seen a whole lot of produce go by in this meal, with modest amounts of protein and starch, making for a great balance.

Okay, so I've been really healthy so far. But I'm not completely immune to the joys of little treats--especially when they really are little. Like these nice slices of not-too-sweet lemon tart. Just a little wedge of this with an espresso made a perfect end to the meal, leaving no cravings for anything bigger or richer.

In fact, so much about this meal was majorly different from the idea of the "fancy meal" that I grew up with. Then, it was all about overwhelming the guests with mass quantities of the richest foods you could pile together, because overkill was how you demonstrated it was a special occasion. But here we spent a whole evening eating satisfying and flavorful little servings of gentle, refreshing foods, and I think we all left feeling satisfied, even pampered.

My thanks to my excellent hostess, J.M., and to my fellow guests, for a wonderful evening of great conversation to match the great food.