Health for life

I dont really care for Valentines Day.

You know how it goes. The heavy pressure on that romantic aspect of our lives, that may or may not, live up to "Sense and Sensibility" expectations. The courting, the chocolates, the flowers, the glittery stuff. The "proposals" and declarations. Bah. Humbug. It was enough to make some of my dearest friends... joyfully declare their mood of choice for the holiday, by getting creative on Facebook...

(I have to admit, since I also dislike romance novels, I thoroughly enjoyed this little creation.)

So... though I do the usual, quiet penance at home with the husband, I cant say I focus very much on Valentines Day. I certainly dont think of walking away with any sort of "wordless Wednesday lessons," if you would. Whats to learn? Materialism? Impossible-to-live-to expectations? Yeah, so one would think. (I dont even have any kids, so I cant make this post about them! lol)

Often, though, life quietly speaks to us in its own way... especially when our hearts are open, and not just open to diamonds, or chocolates, and other distractions and materialisms, but open to whats TRULY being expressed... by fate? God? The universe? Your own inner self? Perhaps. But, maybe... Just maybe... Valentines Day needs to be a bit more "selfish" than it already is, you see. Valentines Day should be about the one love that actually matters more than almost any love out there: self love. Yes, not the kind of self love that goes around expecting what can I get from others... but the kind of self love that goes around expecting what can I get from MYSELF. 

The little image, above... the heart made of wholesome food. That was IT. That was all Valentines Day had to give me, yesterday. And it gave me a LOT; more than I could have imagined. A random posting of sorts, shared by a stranger, with entirely different intentions.

Food is love.

For me, food has always been love (even though I sort of dislike food). Just, perhaps, not the right kind of love.

Like any other person struggling with binge eating, and disordered eating, I tend to, unwittingly, look for love in food. I tend to want to FEEL things from the food I eat -- comfort, enjoyment, numbing of bad feelings, friendship, avoidance of issues, appeasing of bad memories, etc, etc. Often, Ive tried, again and again, to replace the love that others would not give me, or the missing attention from parents... with food, or bury whatever awful life traumas, underneath it.

Often, this is termed "When Food is Love."

Recently, though, Ive been quietly asking myself... what if I can just change that definition around? What if food can still be love, but, from a different angle?

The image above gave me the answer. It almost literally screamed it:

"You can do more than just THINK youre getting emotional support from food... you can actually LOVE YOURSELF with food. Good food. Quality food... HEALTHY FOOD. To show yourself love with proper nourishment is the purest form of self love... Be very selfish with it. Do not abuse it, and do not entrust it to just any food. Treasure it."

When we thoroughly manage our health and give ourselves quality foods that make us FEEL healthy, able bodied, and able minded, capable of taking on the world, of thinking, and making proper decisions... When we give ourselves foods that dont just fuel our bodies, but make our hearts sing because they are wholesome and tasty, and FULFILLING, and in more than just temporary emotions we might feel... But also in HEALTHY emotions we may anticipate because weve put effort into making such meals, and invested in ourselves, as we would in our children... We are literally, feeding ourselves love. We ARE our children. We ARE our loved ones.

Its not a diet, its not a "healthy lifestyle..." It is SELF LOVE. It is simply... Loving Yourself.  

Work on loving yourself, today. Youll be glad you did.

Every Saturday, we post a piece from the CHG archives. This one comes from March 2009. Enjoy!

Up until a few years ago, the list of foods I loathed was a long one. It included, but wasn’t limited to: spaghetti squash, broccoli, asparagus, red cabbage, ginger ale, cauliflower, radishes, lentils, beans, Brussels sprouts, fennel, eggplant, anise, scallops, figs, and of course, the dreaded mayonnaise. The list goes on (and on), but you get the idea: growing up, I wasn’t exactly a daring eater.

I still hate mayo. I will ALWAYS hate mayo. George Clooney could serve me mayo wrapped in chocolate bacon on a gold-plated re-issue of Who’s Next, and I would throw it back in his face. But my opinion’s changed on most of those other foods. These days, I’ll gladly scarf a floret of cauliflower. Brussels sprouts hold a special place on my dinner table. And eggplant? Well, eggplant is my favorite thing ever, aside from the panda song from Sifl and Olly. (In fact, you could say I’m drunk on eggplant mystery.)

Granted, part of it is just me aging. At 31-years-old, my palate’s matured a little, and my tastes now lean more toward savory than sweet. The other part, though, can be directly attributed to recent changes in my lifestyle.

See, a few years ago, I resolved to learn to cook, to eat healthier, and to better manage my money. As it turned out, vegetables and legumes were vital to making this work, since they’re exponentially cheaper than meat and much more nutritious than most starches. So, I had to confront my fears. I had to expand my produce repertoire beyond corn, carrots, corn, and carrots.

These strategies helped. I learned to tolerate, and even love, a lot of foods I had longstanding issues with. Try ‘em for yourself, and please add your own suggestions to the comment section.

Make it unrecognizable.
Case study: Eggplant
Seedy, mushy, and horrifically purple, eggplant appealed to me about as much as a drug-free colonoscopy. Then, in 1997, my friend H hid it in her homemade tomato sauce. And … revelation. Soon, I was on to eggplant dips, eggplant pastas, and finally, plain ol’ broiled eggplant. The trick was getting the image of the vegetable out of my head, and forcing me to associate it with otherwise good food. I suspect it would work beautifully with any vegetable that could be pureed or furtively included in a sauce (butternut squash, bell peppers, etc.).

Use it in a recipe with foods you love.
Case study: Brussels sprouts
As far as I was concerned, Brussels sprouts were tiny, bitter cabbages that masochists ate when they ran out of bigger bitter cabbages. Little did I know that slathering them in Parmesan would provide a delicious gateway into healthier, simpler preparations. See also: Red Cabbage (ew) with Honey (nice), Apples (yay!), and Bacon (king of cured meats). Its actually quite scrumptious.

Try it in an ethnic dish.
Case study: Broccoli
Broccoli: looks like trees, tastes like butt, right? Yeah, I used to think like that, too. But in high school, Ma ordered Chicken and Broccoli from our local Chinese joint, Da How. Suddenly, it was broccoli: looks like trees, tastes like HEAVEN (with garlic and brown sauce). Sometimes, a food is more appealing when its paired with flavors you’re not necessarily accustomed to. Like bean sprouts on top of Pad Thai. Or peas stuffed in a samosa. Or tomatillo sauce spread across an enchilada. Pick a cuisine and start experimenting.

Cook the best-reviewed recipe you can find featuring that food.
Case study: Cauliflower
Most aggregate recipe sites like Epicurious, Food Network, and All Recipes have sophisticated rating systems with which home cooks can evaluate any dish. If you’re feeling ambitious, plug an ingredient into one of their search engines. Then, prep the recipe with the best overall reviews. For example, Ina Garten has a Cauliflower Gratin that’s received an average of five stars from 132 people (which is outstanding). I’ve tried it myself, and without exaggeration, it changed the way I felt about cauliflower. I just … I just didn’t know it could taste that good. Now, stuff like Roasted Garlic Cauliflower and Curried Cauliflower Soup with Honey are making regular appearances in my mouth.

Understand you don’t have to eat it the way your Ma (or Pa) prepared it.
Case study: Spaghetti Squash
Across the country, millions of Irish-Americans loathe vegetables because growing up, produce was boiled beyond recognition and then forced by threat of death into their reluctant maws. But take heart, my freckled brethren! It doesn’t have to be this way. Did you know carrots can be roasted? And broccoli rabe, sauteed? And spaghetti squash, combined with red sauce, mozzarella, and pine nuts to create something COMPLETELY DELICIOUS? It’s true. So, love your Gaelic Ma. Embrace her. Call her often. Just … try to forget her cooking. It’ll make this whole process much easier.

Try a dish with a subtler incarnation of that food.
Case study: Tarragon
This one’s a little difficult to explain, so here’s an example: I despise anise. Even thinking about its black licorice flavor makes my tongue curl. Recently though, I discovered a White Bean and Tarragon Soup that I quite like. Tarragon, like fennel, possesses traits similar to anise, but it’s much, much subtler. In the soup, it was complemented so well by the other ingredients, I didn’t even taste the hate. Maybe Ill feel the same way about anise someday. Think of this principle like salsa: you start out mild, and work your way up to medium and hot varieties.

Give it just one more shot.
Case study: Beans
For some inexplicable reason, I always assumed I hated beans. As a kid, they looked funny to me. And in my six-year-old brain, funny-looking food = bad food. It wasn’t until I grew up, sacked up, ate one and didn’t throw up, that they became a regular part of my diet. (Okay, hummus helped.)

If you truly hate it, let it go.
Case studies: scallops, figs, radishes, mayo
Scallops will never be my thing, no matter how fresh they are, how well they’ve been prepared, and how many times I try them. Figs, radishes, mayonnaise – still disgusting, as well. (Which, did I mention I hate mayonnaise? I did? Oh, good.) Sometimes, a certain food just won’t do it for you. And it’s okay. Just move on to the next one.

And that’s it. Readers? Suggestions?

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If you like this article, you might also dig

• Picky, Picky: Frugal, Healthy Menu Ideas for a Fussy Crowd
• 10 Foods You Should Always Splurge On
• Touch of Class: 10 Thrifty, Healthy Ingredients to Improve the Quality of Your Meals

I don’t feel like I’m eating vegetables if I’m not eating leafy greens. Though corn will always be number one in my heart, greens are my favorite everyday vegetable. Depending on the variety, you’ll find vitamins A, C, E, and K, along with iron, calcium, magnesium, manganese, and folate in significant quantities per serving of leafy green. (If you’re concerned about calcium, forget the yogurt and make yourself a batch of collard greens.)

When it comes to the leafies, I’m not picky, though if you pin me down I’ll choose Swiss chard for its brightly colored stems and delicate flavor. The half-Southerner in me loves collards and turnip greens too; and I’ll always delight in a dish with kale or an arugula salad.

I was craving the hearty bite of kale when I picked up a bunch mustard greens last week at the market. The lighter green and less hefty leaves were stashed under the “kale” label. A few glances around the produce section indicated the store was out of kale and trying to trick me with mustard greens; so I went with it.

I sautéed my unintended take in my usual olive oil, onion, garlic way. The resulting side dish was far from a disaster, but it came out more bitter (bitterer) than I recall mustard greens being. They weren’t dandelion greens, people.

A few days later, I remembered Lidia Bastianich’s method for taking the edge off broccoli rabe, which is to let the veg simmer in water for a few minutes after a quick sauté. What if I applied this technique to mustard greens?

A miracle. With a smidge of smoked paprika (or liquid smoke) for that Southern flavor, mustard greens have never tasted better. CB and I had them with our Middle Eastern tapas plate and I’ve had them again with lunch for a few days. They just keep getting better.

This little adventure has inspired me to learn new (and proper?) ways of cooking vegetables, especially greens. I filled up my library hold list with vegetable-specific cookbooks this week in anticipation, so, look out for more straight-up veg from me in the coming months. And, if you have any tips for cooking greens, give me a shout in the comments. I’m always looking for new excuses to buy kale.

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If this recipe floats your boat, paddle on over to:

• Collard Greens and Black-eyed Peas
• Sweet Potato and Swiss Chard Soup
• Kale and Root Vegetable Salad

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Smokey Mustard Greens
Serves 4
Inspired by Lidia Bastianich’s Broccoli Rabe with Oil and Garlic


16 ounces mustard greens (about 8 cups), washed, woody stems removed, and torn
2 teaspoon olive oil
1 small onion
6 cloves garlic
1/8 to 1/4 cup water
1 teaspoons smoked paprika
1 teaspoons salt
1 tablespoon black pepper

1) In a large heavy bottomed skillet, like cast iron, sauté onion in oil for two minutes until soft. Add garlic, paprika, salt, and pepper. Stir and cook for one more minute.

2) Add mustard greens by the handful, stirring until they are coated with spices and begin to wilt.

3) Once all greens have been added to the pan, add water, cover, and simmer for about five minutes. Remove cover and cook one or two more minutes.

4) Serve alongside any entree, but don’t be surprised if the greens are the star of the meal.

Approximate Calories, Fat, Fiber, Protein, and Price per Serving
60 calories, 2.3g fat, 4g fiber, 4g protein, $.48

Calculations
16 ounces mustard greens: 112 calories, 0g fat, 16g fiber, 16g protein, $1.49
2 teaspoons olive oil: 79.2 calories, 9.24g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.05
1 small onion: 20 calories, 0.1g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.25
6 cloves garlic: 24 calories, 0g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, $0.07
1 teaspoons smoked paprika: negligible calories, fat, fiber, protein, $.02
1 teaspoons salt: negligible calories, fat, fiber, protein, $.02
1 tablespoon black pepper: negligible calories, fat, fiber, protein, $.02
TOTALS: 235 calories, 9.25g fat, 16g fiber, 16g protein, $1.92
PER SERVING (TOTALS/4): 60 calories, 2.3g fat, 4g fiber, 4g protein, $.48