Laws on Ya.

Laws on Ya.

I thought I made lasagna a few weeks ago. I didn’t have lasagna noodles, but thought it would be okay to substitute layers of chickpea fusili that I had on hand (and in the cupboard). It had the layered effect, but my husband said it wasn’t lasagna. I think he was teasing. Sort of. He had no complaints regarding the taste, just the title of the recipe.

But sometimes people can’t tolerate regular lasagna noodles. When you’re celiac, the laws on ya are: no gluten. I’m not celiac, but I’m sensitive to processed grains (too close to sugar for this addict).

So this time when I wanted to make lasagna, I decided to try making the noodles. It was an idea I had leftover from making seed crackers but instead of seeds, I used canned chickpeas, flax meal, and a little water. “Water you doing?” you might want to ask, but I thought these three things were up for my task. I was using my noodle as far as I thought. Instead of finding out where they’d be bought.

The pictures at the bottom of this post are what I captured in my phone when I remembered to document what I was doing. As I was working on making my recipe (literally and figuratively), a friend called to see if I’d like to do yoga with her. We agreed to do it at my house and she agreed to test the lasagna for lunch! It was a win win plan for both of us. Especially since she enjoyed the lasagna. She said it wasn’t exactly like traditional lasagna, but it was a good substitute! That works for me. (It might have been more like regular lasagna had I used Italian sausage instead of chorizo.)

The true test will be at dinner this evening.  Lasagna, whether or not the laws on ya.

This recipe isn’t in my trial cookbook. Yet. But I think it will be once I tweak it a bit more (e’en).  If you’re interested in looking at my trial cookbook, leave me a message and I’ll get you a link to my Shutterfly site. The super special deal for purchasing a photobook with free extra pages and 40% off expires October 18, 2017. That’s today.

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Ready for first noodle bake.
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Ready to layer.
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Ready to bake
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I Spied Her.

I Spied Her.

This was hanging from the umbrella over my deck table last week. I’m not sure how big a spider’s eyes are, but I’m thinking I spied her before she spidered me. I didn’t walk into her web anyway.

We took pictures and my friend named her Georgianna Devouschez. The spelling probably isn’t correct on her last name, but since this isn’t her birth or death record, it probably won’t mess up any geneologists.

Georgianna Devouschez sounds like a convoluted French fry of the phrase “of your house”. I don’t know if you have any of these spiders at your house, but I don’t think female orb spiders are very dangerous except to little flies and the male orb spider. We saw a male spider making his way towards her in the afternoon one day, but the next morning he wasn’t to be found. Poor François. We think he met his match and flamed out.

I had to close the umbrella yesterday because of a tropical storm watch. I don’t think I harmed Georgianna, but her web is down. She was actually huddled on the underside of the umbrella before I closed it. For some strange reason, I was extra gentle when I put the cord around the furled fabric. Maybe it’s because I remember reading the Weekly Reader book, Be Nice to Spiders, as a child?

Anyway, the more important part of this experience is my thought of “spied her”. Closet eating is a major problem for sugar addicts. Even if actual sugar isn’t a problem for me, I know I’m in the clutches of addiction when I’m eating things between meals: out of sight, out of mind, into mouth. I did really well when I was on vacation in Wyoming and Colorado earlier this month. And I did really well for the first week back at home. And then I went Nutzo.

Really. I picked some up at Costco after having said I couldn’t buy it for my pantry again because it’s like crack. No sugar added, but there’s something about it that cries, “More!” E’en when I haven’t finished chewing and savoring the blend of seven nuts and seeds that are several flights above crunchy all natural peanut butter. I had bought some for my daughter and son in law in Wyoming. I thought it would be nice and safe to have it there mixed in with my Cream of the West cereal in the morning.

I don’t know if it really was the Nutzo that set me off, or if it was a combination of a few stressors that I didn’t handle in the optimal way. Or maybe putting together a cookbook in a few hours was too much. But, whatever. Living with sugar addiction is a part of my life and in coming across that spider, I wondered if I just could think “spied her” in moments of temptation I might stay aware and care enough to say a firm NO to the whining of the addiction.

It’s really important that I am aware and accept that I really do have a problem when I eat between meals whether it’s protein or not. (I think I convinced myself that Nutzo was okay because it was protein. But I’m now convinced that the circle of addiction can take advantage of any wedge and throw a pie in my face.) Part of my sugar addiction management is to have start and stop times to my eating. Because that works for me in The I’m Possible Journey.

The idea of in private or secret is a sham because my body is taking precise note of it all. It’s a shame when I just don’t want to acknowledge that. But now I have. (Body aches and pains and, for full disclosure, my clothes started dissing me.) Again. And it’s okay. There are ups and downs to many things and this is no exception.

I’m here with my eyes open. And I spied her. Things are looking up.

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Chicken Dinner Jerky.

Chicken Dinner Jerky.

I’m trying my hand at a cookbook.

It occurred to me that I could share a recipe here and find out if there’s interest in more (e’en cooking).

This recipe came about when I wanted to have a new emergency food supply stash option (no sugar added, no refrigeration needed, loaded with protein, easy to pack in a purse or a pocket).  I found the general idea in The Dehydrator Bible and changed it up to suit me. This has the taste of a chicken dinner complete with stuffing.

In food processor, puree 2 pounds boneless skinless chicken (all fat trimmed) with 1/2 c. onion, 1 teaspoon rosemary, 1/2 teaspoon dried sage, 1 clove peeled garlic, 1/2 tablespoon salt, 1/4 teaspoon black pepper, 1 cup seedless grapes, 1 cup diced dried apples. Put mixture in gallon sized ziplock freezer bag. Snip one corner (about 1/2 inch) and extrude meat mix in lines onto parchment lined baking sheet. Flatten lines to 1/4 inch. Bake at 400F for 20 minutes or until done. Remove from oven. Press each strip with paper towels to squeeze out fat. Return meat strips to cooling rack lined baking sheet and bake at 170F for 2 hours or until dry. Let cool. Store in airtight container. I think this would be good with 1/2 half cup dried cranberries instead of the grapes. (I didn’t have any that weren’t sweetened with sugar.)

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Snip corner of ziplock bag and extrude meat mixture to pan.
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Ready for the second baking.
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Chicken jerky. I think it looks like drumsticks.

What do you think?

Comfort. A Peace of my Mind. Better than Fat Her’s Day. 

Comfort. A Peace of my Mind. Better than Fat Her’s Day. 

This morning I did a search for a phrase in my blog collection. I was was wondering if I had ever written a piece about Fat Her’s Day.  For some reason, this post showed up.

Source: Comfort. A Peace of my Mind.

Feel free to click the link and read it. Or just keep reading here. I’m not really sure why that one matched, but I’m glad it did. It helped me recognize that I have been numbing with food for a few days. It’s not comfort. It’s numbing. Just masking discomfort. Continue reading “Comfort. A Peace of my Mind. Better than Fat Her’s Day. “

Whatcha June? Ate? (Written on 6/8/2017)

Whatcha June? Ate? (Written on 6/8/2017)

It’s one of those days. I was making my smoothie this morning. Fresh ginger. Fresh mint (picked from my back yard moments earlier). Frozen mango. Whey powder. Acacia Fiber. Chia (good chia). Baby spinach. Grapefruit seltzer. MCT oil (that’s Medium-chain triglyceride derived from coconut oil). As I poured the green goodness into my quart-sized canning jar, I thought it resembled a shamrock shake. Continue reading “Whatcha June? Ate? (Written on 6/8/2017)”

Stressed:dessertS

Stressed:dessertS

The solution to stressed is not desserts. it’s a backwards approach at best. Unless it is simply to back away without caving to the test. Turning to food like a numbing drug is not the answer I know. Give me a run or a paper and pun. ‘Tis a vent so I don’t have to blow. That imag’ry conjures the thought of a whale–the size I approached e’re I’m Possible tale. Ive used AAA to change my attire. From Michelin padded to thin as a wire*. With the Weight Watchers tools and some bright line rules. Awareness, Acceptance, Adapting. No fools.

Stress is a matter of fact part of life. It can’t be knocked out with a spoon fork or knife. Just dealt with: good choices for heart healthy life..

* poetic license. I’m not as thin as a wire, but I wear size small!

I wrote this post with a Weight Watchers prompt. It could seem like it’s all about prose. If you read with a beat, you might find it neat: an amateur poem’s how it goes.

I’m on my way to Denver and then to my daughter’s new home. Where she lives with her hubby, (neither is chubby) in the land where buffalo roam.

I’m leaving New England in winter clothes–landing in Laramie where it still snows.

I’m going to visit a week and a day. I hope to see deer and antelope play!

My plan is to eat three meals a day, drink lots of water, and see brand new hay. I’ll help paint some rooms, shovel some snow and look for spring’s blooms.

I’ll write and take pictures but don’t know if I’ll post. Wyoming’s cell service is scanter than most.

And now it’s time for airplane mode.  I have a 5 hour layover in Denver. Feel ftee to comment. I’ll respond!