Letter to a Nutritionist...But Not Mine

Dear Nutritionist,

When I canceled my appointment with you for next week, the receptionist asked if I wanted to reschedule. I’d rather tell you why I canceled in the first place.

Like countless other New Yorkers, I’m a smart, busy, reasonable person, who tries to make healthy food choices, exercises regularly, and works long hours in a stressful job. I live on a tight budget and don’t particularly enjoy cooking; nonetheless, I rarely order in and eat out only about once or twice a week with friends or family.

You met me once. In the time we were together, you took my body measurements and my weight. After an hour, I left with a second appointment that was further into the future than the two weeks you recommended. The upcoming High Holidays were certainly a factor, but your availability only during business hours on Tuesdays played a role as well.

I left, too, with these takeaways that you had plunked down in what felt like an inflexible, admonishing, and scolding way:
1. Eat organic.
2. Do not microwave vegetables; steam them.
3. Eat no carbs.
4. Eat very little dairy.
5. Keep a food diary.

As I said, I’m a reasonable person and since you have no idea how much or what type of dairy I eat (there’s a big difference between a pint of Haagen Dazs ice cream and a scoop of fat free Fage Greek yogurt), it’s not really practical for you to tell me in a first meeting to eat very little dairy.

The same is true of carbs, even though I am trying to lower my blood sugar. Nonetheless, as with the dairy, you have no idea about my intake of carbs or that I’ve worked hard during the last several months to cut back drastically on them. Even so, last week I wasn’t willing to skip a small piece of homemade round challah and a drizzle of honey to mark this season of new beginnings.

Ironically (or perhaps not), my meeting with you did absolutely nothing to inspire me to be my best(-eating) self in the New Year. Instead, it left me frustrated, angry, and overwhelmed – definitely not the person I want to be – and so it is that I won’t be scheduling another appointment to see you anytime soon.

Yes, I know it’s hard to lose weight. I’m willing to give it my best shot, but on my terms: continued smart choices and an “everything in moderation” outlook that is much more suitable for a real person in the real world.

Sincerely yours,
 ~ JanetheWriter.

How a Single High Holiday Tweet May Lead Me to a New Bagel Shop

Last week, unlike most others, was a multi-bagel week for me.

The first was my usual Shabbos bagel, enjoyed, as it is each week, during Torah study.

The second was my annual break-the-fast bagel. Layered with cream cheese, lox, and a slice of home-grown tomato, and washed down with the steaming coffee I'd been dreaming about all day, it marked the perfect end to a long, exhausting, and spiritually fulfilling day.

And then there were the bagel tweets.

Fish Tacos: It's Complicated

Tonight, while many of my friends were out shpieling and noshing hamantaschen, I attempted to tally the results of this week's wholly unofficial fish taco survey. 

And the survey says…it’s complicated.

A total of 15 people commented on the post in one way or another—some on Facebook and two (thanks, Donnie and Debbi) by leaving comments directly on this blog.

In the “Yea” camp are six readers who liked the post.  Whether that affirmation extends to fish tacos themselves isn’t entirely clear.  Three others unequivocally affirmed their love of fish tacos:

"Yea. fish tacos."

"Making them for dinner tonight!"

"Love fish tacos. Great healthy food place here [in Arizona] with fish tacos."

In the “Nay” camp are these who say feh—literally--to fish tacos:

"Fish good. Tacos good. Fish tacos feh."

"Nay. Feh."

"Never had them, but can't say as they sound very appealing...."

And then there are those who had to qualify their answers in some way—complicating the results:

"Not a fan, although there was a place in LA that had really good mahi mahi burritos!"

"It's complicated. You can find some good ones. I eat way too much fish now to be looking for fish tacos."

"It goes without saying they have to be good fish tacos to be good. But I guess I am just a Cali boy at heart."

"Fish tacos can be yummy, but I still prefer my fish as sushi.".

From these results, I can reasonably conclude that not only are my readers particular about the foods they’ll eat, but also that fish tacos aren’t high on their lists of “must have” culinary delights.

Good to know, my friends.  Good to know.

Fish Tacos: Yea or Nay?

Photo courtesy of Infrogmation

Over the weekend, my friend, Robin, posted this status on Facebook:

Fish tacos in Rhinebeck. Yum! — at Terrapin Restaurant & Catering.

One person “liked” the post, which doesn’t necessarily mean, however, that he “likes” fish tacos.

And, in fact, the general consensus based on the conversation that ensued was anything but “like” when it comes to fish tacos.

“I’ve never understood the appeal of fish tacos,” I commented to my friend.  “Can we talk about this next week?” I asked.

“I will be happy to opine about fish tacos and any other subject of your choice,” she replied, adding, “Oh, how I love to opine.”

“You’re on,” I quipped back, before adding this:  “In the meantime, enjoy the fish tacos.  Blech!”

A while later, Robin’s friend Richard chimed in with this:  “I always thought fish tacos sounded nasty until I tried one. It was good. But, I won't go out of my way for another one! Your friend Jane should at least try one. (Or maybe she already has?!)”

No, Richard, I haven’t yet tried one.  They just sound oh-so nasty to me…

And apparently Arlene agrees.  She wrote, “Fish tacos just don’t excite me.  Yuck!”

As an afterthought, she added this:  “Will stick with cream cheese and lox.  Yes, much better.”

I quickly added a “like” to this comment.

So, what say ye, my friends?   

Fish tacos: yea or nay? 

Leave a comment and let me know.  Upon reaching critical mass, the results of JanetheWriter's official unofficial fish taco poll will be published in a subsequent post.

Stay tuned...

#BlogExodus: Time to Spring into Action on the Passover Cooking

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima's #BlogExodus initiative, this is one in an occasional series of posts loosely tied to Passover.

Growing up, Passover was always a big deal in our house…my mother’s favorite holiday.  Two years ago on 14 Nisan, with the table set and all the cooking done, she went into the hospital.  She entered hospice on 6 Sivan (Shavuot) and died on 17 Sivan.  Needless to say, Passover has never been the same.

This year, my sister and I (with help from our Aunt Claire, our mother’s older sister) are making a seder for the first time.  The division of labor looks something like this:

Amy:  Hosting the event, cooking chicken with plums, desserts

Aunt Claire:  Soup, matzah balls, gefilte fish, horseradish (and the shankbone and egg for the seder plate)

(I will #ShowUsYourMatzahBalls via Instagram directly from the seder!)

JanetheWriter:  Brisket, charoset, matzah farfel stuffing (and the seder plate itself—a wedding gift, that until now has remained unused in the box—as well as the orange that will sit atop it, squished between two of the other items)

Although I’m no Tina Wasserman, I hope that I watched my mother enough to do all the cooking “right.”

Here’s my plan:

Tuesday night:  Crock pot brisket, the recipe for which you can find in this post

Wednesday night:  Matzah farfel stuffing, which goes something like this:

Saute a lot of chopped onions (and chopped celery) on low flame until golden (I plan to use three large onions and a few stalks of celery)
Mix together with a one-pound box of matzah farfel stuffing and enough chicken broth to moisten
Add salt and pepper to taste
Spread in a baking dish and sprinkle generously with Hungarian paprika
Bake at 350 for 20-30 minutes until heated through
Serve with gravy from brisket

Friday morning:  Charoset, which goes like this:

Finely chop 3 to 4 apples (I bought Galas)

Add chopped almonds and raisins (I bought the yellow ones)

Moisten with grape juice

Season to taste with cinnamon and a dash of nutmeg

Mix and refrigerate to allow the flavors to blend

If I’m going to do all the cooking I’ve just detailed, I’d better go do the reading for Thursday night’s class right now.

See you in the kitchen…

Chametz Cravings: Another in the #BlogExodus Series

Thanks to Vicky Farhi for baking the inspirations for today's #BlogExodus post.

Despite the presence of these goodies just down the hall from my office, I am trying not to indulge.

Oh, how we will be craving these yummy treats in just a few short weeks.

ChallahCrumbs.com Needs Your Vote

In addition to keeping Rabbi David Saperstein organized, on track and moving in the right direction each and every day, my friend Daphne Price is the food editor of ChallahCrumbs.com, which recently was nominated as a “Best Kosher Food Blog.” 

Nominations and voting end on January 11, 2012 and in a shameless appeal to garner votes for Daphne’s blog, I urge you to:

1. Visit joyofkosher.com
2. Scroll down to ChallahCrumbs.com/Daphne Price (it’s the 11^th entry on the list)
3. Click on the vote button
4. Pass the word (it’s one vote per IP address, so encourage your friends to visit and vote, too!)

Winners will be announced on February 1 and I, for one, am rooting for ChallahCrumbs.com.  Go, Daphne!

Executive "Sweet"

After lunch today, my sweet tooth started calling my name.  I don’t generally hear from it, so when I do, I usually listen.  I wandered over to a colleague’s office and was disappointed to find that the bowl located there that's often filled with M&Ms was empty.

Returning to my own office, I posted this status update on Facebook:

Me (Writer to the President):  JanetheWriter is very disappointed that the M&Ms bowl is empty.

Over the next few minutes, this conversation ensued among a few of my colleagues:

Data Management Director:  Go to MUM. They usually have a good supply in the bubble gum dispenser :)

Writer to the President:  Yeah, but Elliott usually has peanut M&Ms. I ate a clementine instead...a better choice all around.

Data Management Director:  OOOh PEANUT M&Ms!!!!! How was the darling-clementine??

Writer to the President:  Not nearly as darling as peanut M&Ms!!!

At this point, I was interrupted by the Executive Assistant to the President, who asked if I wanted to know where the “stash” was.  When I answered in the affirmative, she showed me, and then used it to refill the bowl, sending the jangling sound of M&Ms through the executive suite.

And then, the Facebook conversation resumed:

Executive Assistant to the Chairman of the Board:  Thank you, @Executive Assistant to the President for refilling!!!!!!

Executive Assistant to the President:  All is right with the world.  The bowl has been replenished.

Web Editor:  If it’s empty, don’t look at me.  I am swearing off them!

OK, everybody, now that we’ve had our afternoon break--with or without peanut M&Ms--let’s get back to work!

Nesting Nellie

Last night I started to nest.

According to Merriam-Webster’s online dictionary, the definition of nesting is “to build or occupy a nest, to settle in or as if in a nest.” 

And, although I’m certainly not pregnant, the description of nesting from Mama’s Health seems especially apt:  “Nesting is the term used to refer to an expectant mother’s instinct which gives her a surge of energy which prompts her to clean and do various chores around her home. Nesting usually arises as the mother nears her due date.”

It all started with the Fresh Direct delivery that arrived a little bit before 7 p.m.  Totaling nearly $200 (which is more than double the cost of most of my orders), it included, among other things, eight rolls of paper towels, a dozen rolls of toilet paper, a box of powdered laundry detergent, two dozen bottles of Gatorade, Jell-O, chocolate pudding, peanut butter, a box of Clementine oranges, olive oil, mint chocolate chip ice cream, bagels, apple juice, diet Coke, ginger ale, yogurt, salsa and chips, hummus, potatoes, onions, pasta, rice, beans, corn, diced tomatoes, and enough meat for more than one crock pot brisket.

Opening the freezer to put the frozen foods away, I found a jumble of unidentifiable packages and containers that were, as my mother always used to say, “from the year gimel.” Although they had never bothered me before, all of a sudden, they had to go.  And they had to go now.  So I started tossing:  ice-encrusted turkey bacon, a foil wrapped, plastic-bagged something or other, leftover lentil chili from last January, a started bag of frozen pineapple from Trader Joe’s (I don’t remember the last time I was in Trader Joe’s), hot dog buns that I may have moved here from my last apartment (I’ve been in this one for two and a half years), and a box of frozen veggies that were most likely picked when the Green Giant was still a little sprout.  With all that "stuff" out of there, there was plenty of room to neatly stack the new groceries among the freshly made containers of homemade soup, veggie lasagna and baked goodies that friends have thoughtfully and lovingly prepared for me in the last several weeks.

The same thing happened in the pantry cabinet.  Out went stale nuts, a box of Parmalat milk with a 2008 pull date, a box of matzo that the Israelites probably baked, a partially used bag of rock-hard dried cranberries, and a few potatoes with very big eyes.  After that round of tossing, I rearranged the canned goods, grouping them together by type, aligned the various boxes of rice, mac and cheese, cereal and pasta based on box size, and repackaged some opened bags of dried beans and pearl couscous in uniform, stackable plastic containers.  Martha Stewart would be proud.

But wait, there’s more…

My to-do list on Sunday includes:

1. Paying all bills through January 15
2. Making a batch of chili and freezing it in portion size containers
3. Cooking a brisket in the crock pot
4. Packing and shipping the stack of textbooks on the dining room table that are being “bought back” by Abebooks.com (using the one box from Fresh Direct that wasn’t flattened and put out for recycling)

My tasks on Monday include:

1. Washing:  clothes, sheets, towels, blankets, and mattress pad
2. Dusting:  the heavy duty kind, where you actually lift up the tsotchkes instead of just dusting around them
3. Vacuuming:  including the couch cushions and the POÄNG chair from Ikea
4. Scrubbing the bathroom until it shines like the top of the Chrysler Building:  tub, sink and toilet, as well as sweeping the hairballs out of the corners and swabbing down the floor

After that, Tuesday should be a breeze.  Fueled only by the calories consumed in clear liquids, I’ll run down to the library at Baruch (it’s closed until then) to print something out, returning home (to a sparkling clean apartment!) in time to await two separate phone calls from the hospital—one to review the events of the next day and one to let me know what time to arrive.  A Hibiclens shower—and hopefully some sleep—will round out the day.

Whew…after all that, I’ll really need those six weeks of R&R that are coming my way!

Plan B Saturday: Food, Family, Friends and Fun

For reasons that are not entirely clear to me, my weekend plans fizzled at the end of last week. Lucky for me, I was able to salvage my Saturday and ended up having a great day filled with food, family, friends and fun.

First up on the agenda was tagging along on a gallery talk my sister was slated to give at the Metropolitan Museum of Art at 11:15 a.m. Only after I met up with my father in the Great Hall of the Met, however, did we learn from her that, unbeknownst even to her until a few minutes earlier, the tour had been canceled. Undaunted, she guided us deftly through the galleries, pointing out the 19th century paintings she’d prepared for the tour, as well as a few others that sparked our interest. We started with Edouard Manet’s Young Lady in 1866 and then compared it with Gustave Courbet’s Woman with a Parrot before moving on to admire the handiwork of Henri Fantin-Latour's floral paintings. A few galleries away, we compared this Madame Cezanne with this one, in which she seems to be saying, “Oy, Paul, another portrait?!…Enough already.” On our way out, we checked out a few Rembrandts (Did you know that Rembrandt was his first name and that his full name was Rembrandt van Rijn? I didn’t…) and Renoirs, including this one, all expertly explained by my sister.

Having absorbed enough culture for one day, we headed downtown on the bus to Koreatown, where we enjoyed lunch at Pho 32 & Shabu, grateful for warm, hearty soup on a cold day. Here's my dad enjoying his:
From there, we each headed home—my sister to Union Square, my father to New Jersey via Penn Station and me across town to Kips Bay.

A bit of reading for school, a welcome Shabbos nap, a quick change of clothes and I was off again, this time to meet some friends for an early dinner and perhaps a movie. Our tacos and fixin's at Cascabel Taqueria proved to be as yummy as my pho lunch, and The Blind Side was the perfect feel-good movie to round out out a really nice, feel-good kind of day.

So, although these weren’t my original plans, my Plan B Saturday was quite satisfying nonetheless—and maybe even better than what might have been.

Hmmm…who knows what next week will bring…

Guests with Issues...Biennial Style

“I have had enough with people who want to have it their way, and I am done catering to the quirks of food-obsessed numskulls,” says Susan Goldberg in a City Room piece in today’s New York Times.

Man, oh Manischewitz, can I ever relate to that statement. Two weeks ago, I hosted an intimate Shabbat dinner for 2800+ guests in Toronto. (OK, I didn’t exactly “host” the meal, but like Susan, it was my job to deal with those she aptly calls “food-obsessed numskulls,” and in a crowd that size, believe me, there are plenty.)

According to the medical journal American Family Physician, as many as 80 percent of Ashkenazi Jews are lactose intolerant. Luckily, my Shabbat dinner was kosher style and chicken was among the entrée choices (fish and vegetarian were the others) so no dairy was served, which neatly dispensed with that issue. However that still left me (and the chef) to deal with the diabetics, the low-fat, low-carb, high protein, low sodium dieters and those who have allergies or aversions to nuts, gluten, garlic, onions, peppers, strawberries, cinnamon, melons, pineapple, sage, black beans, cheese, mushrooms, asparagus, tomatoes, eggplant, avocado, rice and seafood. Did I forget anyone?

Like Susan’s guests, many of mine “presented me with a detailed list of their food requirements.” Among them were these:

Attendee #1 asked for plain grilled or roasted breast of chicken, plain sautéed vegetables and no stuffing or sauce. Fine, but beyond that, please leave the specific preparation to the chef. If, as you suggest, the chicken can be marinated in olive oil, lemon and red wine vinegar and seasoned with salt, pepper and herbs, it's not, strictly speaking, "plain."

Attendee #2 requested “No wheat, yeast, corn, rice, nightshades or vinegar.” Good thing Attendee #2 didn’t end up with Attendee #1’s vinegar marinated chicken breast, which was a real possibility when you consider that my Shabbat guests ate in 16 different dining rooms. And, in case you’re wondering (I know I was), according to The World's Healthiest Foods, “potatoes, tomatoes, sweet and hot peppers, eggplant, tomatillos, tamarios, pepinos, pimentos, paprika, cayenne, and Tabasco sauce are classified as nightshade foods…A particular group of substances in these foods, called alkaloids, can impact nerve-muscle function and digestive function in animals and humans, and may also be able to compromise joint function.” Who knew?!?...

Attendee #3 indicated that he doesn’t eat red meat. Good thing he selected chicken from among the choices. Did I mention that they were chicken, fish or vegetarian?

Attendee #4 also doesn’t eat red meat. She selected fish for Shabbat dinner. Wait, don’t tell me…the choices were chicken, fish or vegetarian, right?

Attendee #5 is a vegetarian. Fortunately, she selected the vegetarian option.

One more: Attendee #6 chose chicken for Shabbat dinner provided that it was seasoned only with salt and pepper and that the sauce contained neither mushrooms nor cheese. Hmmm…did I mention that my dinner was kosher style and thus no dairy would be served?

Thankfully, in his sermon the next morning, my boss eloquently reminded me of the spiritual side of Jewish eating with these words:

First, we know – as all Jews know – that meals are profoundly important in creating and sustaining purposeful community. When we eat alone, we are sorely tempted to focus on ourselves; we distance ourselves from the world, from the needs of others, and—most often—from the presence of God. And eating in loneliness, we drift away from the Jewish people.

But when we join together for a se’udah – a Jewish communal meal – we open our minds and our hearts to the concerns of others, and we draw God in, as a partner, to our sacred community.

For most of us, the Seder, the Yom Kippur break fast, and the Shabbat meal – each an experience of togetherness and solidarity – are among our most significant Jewish memories. For 3,000 years, the message of the Jewish tradition has been: invite others to join you in your festive meals and celebrations.

Unfortunately I wasn’t actually in the hall to hear him speak these words. I was preparing to serve Shabbat lunch to 2100+ guests.

Sunday Dinner

We Hermans are an old-fashioned family. After more than four decades, we still enjoy being together and we do it as often as possible. These days, it’s often over Sunday dinner – although not every week – at my sister’s apartment.

Here are some photos from our afternoon together today:

In addition to a scrumptious homemade meal prepared by Amy (spinach salad, lasagna, apple brown Betty with lowfat frozen vanilla yogurt and coffee perked in a 1956 copper percolator that was a second anniversary gift to my parents from my grandparents), today’s activities – as they often do – included tossing the football with six-year-old Ian, listening to his corny knock-knock jokes and playing a game. (Fast forward about 70 years from the Great Depression, subtract a few kids and grandkids and it’s the Waltons ala 21st century, with me playing the role of John-Boy, the chronicler of family tales.)

Bananagrams was today’s game and it was a hit with everyone, even Ian, who paired up with his mommy to play. It appears that we all were evenly matched, and each person won at least one round. Here’s my winning hand:

Like I said, we Hermans are an old-fashioned family, and today was an old-fashioned kind of day. And, although I’m not ready to go cold turkey on the email or totally forgo the iPod, there is definitely something to be said for simple, family time.

The Dating Buffet

Dating is sort of like a Sunday brunch buffet. You get in line with an empty plate, peruse the many choices and make a few selections. Fresh fruit, yogurt, cereal, scrambled eggs, potatoes, toast, bagels, sausage, bacon, blintzes, lox and so on… A few steps away are the chef-manned stations: made-to-order omelettes, waffles, and the carving board – roast beef, turkey, and ham.

Sometimes you’re lucky and the choices you make are appealing and you can’t wait to go back for seconds (and sometimes even thirds) on one particular item. Other times, not so much. From time to time, the offerings are not to your liking at all and when you get to your seat you find the eggs too runny, the lox too salty and the sausages cold. After a few bites you aimlessly push the food around until the plate (thankfully!) gets cleared from in front of you.

My personal favorite brunch item is a made-to-order omelette filled with cheddar and bacon, cooked until the eggs are brown and almost crunchy around the edges. A side of crispy breakfast potatoes and a steamy mug of decaf with lots of milk are the perfect accompaniments. Unfortunately, in last night’s buffet I ended up with a runny omelette filled with Swiss, two kinds of mushrooms, green pepper and tomatoes. Cherry blintzes on the side and a cold cup of black coffee rounded out the meal. Oh well…