Skip to content

Posts tagged ‘snack/meal’

Apr 29

2 Comments

Muffin Monday: Attracting seedy attention

I just got back from a work trip to exotic Fresno where I was harassed so severely by two men at my hotel that I actually complained and got them kicked out of their rooms.  Their behavior, which included asking to take my picture and following me in a parking lot, was beyond the level of good taste.  While what happened was unquestionably inappropriate, got me to thinking about times where this kind of behavior is tempered and the disconnect between what men think is okay and what women do not want to experience.  So menfolk we need to have a little chat.

This doesn’t pertain to all of you, or even most of you, directly but I think you all need to be made aware of this so you can understand women and stop this behavior when you see it.  Now I will make small talk when I’m in a good mood with my cashier or the cab driver.  I know that it breaks up the monotony of the day in the service industry to have someone friendly engage you for even a few minutes.  I’ve been there.  I had my high school stint as a worker bee at Mervyn’s.  But if there is a woman you are ringing up, or helping, or in a car with who is clearly having a bad day–leave her the frak alone.  Seriously.  Don’t make it your job to cheer her up because if she’s anything like me she really, really doesn’t want you to.  In fact having a strange male approach me when I’m in that mood doesn’t help me feel better–it puts me on edge.

Often I will be walking down the street after having a bad day, and I wear my heart on my sleeve I admit it, and a man will tell me to smile.  “Smile!  You’ll be so much prettier if you smile.”  – “Would you smile for me?” — “Cheer up!  Smile!”  This does not make me feel good.  This does not make me feel safe.  What’s more you don’t have any right to demand that I be “prettier” or happy all the time.  I do not know of a single woman who has ever done this to a complete strange man as he passes her by on the street.  You know why?  It’s not our place to tell you how to feel or express those feelings.  It is also not my job or duty to be pretty for you.

You have no right to demand that the women all around you in the world always be happy and smiling.  Even if your intention is to cheer us up, a great intention I’ll admit, you have no right.  I get to be upset or tired or sad or angry if I want to.  I’m human damn it and I have a right to the range of emotions that don’t make me some shiny, plastic flower in your garden.  So let me be.  Especially if you are someone I don’t know stopping me on the street.  If I’m having a bad day and I’m feeling out of sorts, I’m going to engage in a fight or flight panic when you do this.  I’m going to immediately have to question your intentions and get ready to protect myself.  So even if you aren’t in any way threatening, you are eliciting the exact opposite response from me that you intend to.  Because sometimes I do have to get ready to protect myself like last night.

I pulled into the hotel and it was late.  I was tired.  I don’t particularly enjoy driving for more than an hour at a time.  I get antsy.  I like to move.  I don’t like being cramped in a car having to worry about drivers cutting across 4 lines sending me swerving to avoid both them and the wall–yes this happened too.  It was dark and I was in a strange place.  I just wanted to get into bed and sleep.  Two men on a golf cart start in on me.  “Aww honey smile!”  I ignore them and continue to get my bags out of the car.  They stop.  “Hey can you do us a favor?”  Exasperated I say “No.”  The men turn to each other and roll their eyes.  “Come on you’ll be so much prettier if you smile.  Smile.  Let me take your picture, it’ll cheer you up.  Don’t worry it will be tasteful.”  I am inflamed.  This is beyond just “cheering” me up.  Maybe they were drunk.  Maybe they were professional photographers for Vogue.  It doesn’t matter.  It was uncalled for.  I shuffled away, satisfied they weren’t following me and went directly to my room, to my phone and called the front desk.  I was called back 15 minutes later and told these guests had been removed from the property and that I didn’t need to worry about the duration of my stay.

Even ignoring this situation guys, please try to remember that women are not under an obligation to be pretty or happy for you.  No one demands that men always be happy, smiling and walking around with muscles and perfect hair.  You do not have the right to demand this of me or to try to impose it upon me.  When you try it does not make me feel special or happy.  It makes me angrier and makes my day worse.  Not all women are sure to feel this way.  I can’t speak for all of womankind but I’d wager that there are more of us than not.  It just comes across as seedy.

And speaking of seeds how about some gluten free sesame seed muffins?  I’ve broken out of my vegan week–huzzah!  It was an interesting experiment but definitely not the way I think I’ll be living my life 24/7.  Worthwhile to make the effort though and so you might see some “Meatless Mondays” breaking up the muffin monotony.  Not today though.  Today I have this recipe which I was inspired to make during my vegan stint.  It seems that gluten free baking became much easier for me to fathom when I was cutting out eggs and buttermilk as well.  These muffins are very strange at first but I was inspired to make them after craving some chocolate covered sunflower seeds.  Savory and sweet.  These seem to improve the next day if you keep them airtight. I might cut back on the mini-chocolate chips though.  I think a third of a cup would suffice.

Gluten Free Sunflower Seed Muffins

an Olivia Original Read more

Apr 16

Think Thin Tuesday: Getting Moussed on the Elkohol!

Girls like pretty things.  Guys stop asking me why girls like silly, pretty things.  Sometimes a rose is just a rose – and seeing something innocent, simple and beautiful can incredibly life affirming.  There are things girls love to think about and do purely because of the beauty of it.  I know you guys understand these fantasies more than you want to let on.  Barney Stinson and the popularity of Mad Men have proven that to me.  True your desires are a bit…smarmier than ours but regardless you are romanticizing those fantasies.  Why else would two of the most iconic womanizers of the decade be brandy swirling, suit wearing debonair dudes?  Admit it you kind of like getting dressed up once in a while too.

With summer finally starting to peek its head around the corner it’s time to start thinking about planning those wonderful summer cocktail parties.  Or at least in my imaginative world where I’m a Manhatten socialite I’m planning those parties.  You know the kind.  Music.  Women in summer dresses.  Men in linen suits.  China twinkling.  The sort of Audrey Hepburn fairytale life that a lot of silly girls like to daydream about.  I swear I never was one to imagine the details of my wedding but boy did I ever day dream about my ideal apartment and social gatherings in some upper-east side version of paradise.

I’d really love to have a place to host some sort of garden top party this summer.  It would just feel like the ultimate bucket list item.  OF course the problem is that I need money.  I need friends.  I need a life.  All of these things are kind of essential to this desire of mine.  I think if I were planning on for LA it would be easier since I know more people there who might enjoy an exercise in dressing up and getting all pretty just for the hell of it.

Only problem is that I don’t live in LA and I certainly wouldn’t be able to cater the affair which is half the fun of it for me.  Making appetizers and hors d’oeuvres is a lot of fun.  I love recipes like this one.  They are dainty, delicious and unfortunately oftentimes quite fattening too.  That’s why you have such little portions.  Hey we’ve gotta be able to fit in those fancy clothes we wear!  If the buttons are popping off and clothes exploding open it quickly becomes a different kind of party no?  And those little bites are pretty easy to start gulping down as the evening goes on…especially if you get the “drunchies” aka the drunken munchies. Since we all know the best garden party is a champagne fueled brunch at 11AM on a sunny Sunday…drunchies are sure to abound.

So if you are thinking of hosting any sort of party this summer—a wedding, a brunch for friends, a fundraiser with all your wealthy single bachelors for puppies (and hey invite me would you?) this is a great light recipe to whisk around on those serving platters or serve up as a dessert after a lavish dinner party.  Go ahead and “gazelle” it down because this recipe is deliciously, drunkenly de-lite-ful.  I have made this mousse several times over the last few summers and I don’t even really like melon all that much.  It’s sweet, it’s light and refreshing and hands down one of my FAVORITE drunken recipes.  The mousse itself is totally gluten free as well so if you have any celiac intolerant folks in the group you can just serve it in cups instead of pastry shells.  They will LOVE this…and then they’ll eat enough that they will “like oh my god you guys, you are the most awesome people ever and I really, really fucking love you.  Okay?  Let’s make this moment last forever okay?”  You know what I’m talking about.

Musk Melon Mousse Bites

Adapted from “The Boozy Baker”

  • ½ cup Muscat Wine
  • 3 envelopes unflavored gelatin
  • 1 honeydew melon, sliced into chunks
  • ½ cup sugar, divided
  • ¼ cup lemon juice, divided
  • 2/3 cup fat free plain yogurt
  • 24 phyllo pastry shells
  • Sliced strawberries for topping

Pour the Muscat Sec into a small saucepan and sprinkle the gelatin on top.  Let it soften for about 2 minutes and then cook over low heat, stirring constantly until the gelatin is dissolved.  Remove from the heat and allow to cool.

In a blend puree half the melon with ¼ cup of the sugar and 2 Tbsp of lemon juice.  With the blender running, slowly pour in half of the Muscat mixture.  Transfer the melon mixture to a large metal bowl set in a pan of ice water.  Repeat with the remaining melon, sugar, lemon juice and Muscat mixture and then add the second half of the melon mixture to the metal bowl.

Stir the melon mixture for 3 to 5 minutes, or until it begins to thicken slightly (its texture should be similar to that of maple syrup or raw egg whites.)  Remove the bowl from the ice water and stir in the yogurt.

Pour the mousse into a large glass bowl and refrigerate for at least 4 hours.  Serve scoop spoonfuls into your pastry shells and top with some sliced strawberries.

Nutrition info per pastry shell: 66 calories | 14g carbohydrates (9g sugar) | 1 g fat | 2g protein

1 serving of 3 shells is still less than 200 calories.  Not a bad dessert.

Apr 8

Muffin Monday: Bran-ding Mango Fett

I missed my scifriday post last week.  I just got too busy and didn’t manage to get it together but I do have some geeky thoughts on my mind and they are invading my muffin zone!

Once again I find myself at a crossroads where I am both always staunchly defending geek culture to outsiders (the “normies”) and yet also often highly dissatisfied and critical of those within my adopted realm.  It is a strange experience to both be loudly defending and critiquing the world I’m a part of.  It is also strange that I feel totally locked into my role as a geek by non-geeks and yet constantly feel pressure to defend/demonstrate my worthiness of the moniker to my peers.  It’s a not easy to navigate this contradiction of my very existence.

The internal struggle within geek culture to demonstrate how geeky you really are….  Well it’s been on my mind a lot lately for so many reasons.  I was deciding how to decorate my bathroom and trying desperately to find some way to reconcile my desire for a “girly” space with my geekier interests.  I was spending way too much energy obsessing over which shower curtain to buy based on how it could accessorize with geekier objects in the room.  Eventually I sat back and asked myself what the hell I was doing.  I really didn’t want to spend more than $15 dollars on a shower curtain—I’m not actually decorating a home where I plan on living for the next ten years and my lease is month to month.  I could be gone at any moment.  It’s not a situation where I’m looking to nail art to the walls.  I don’t need to spend 75 dollars buying this one shower curtain because it manages to both fit into the more “feminine” styling I want but color coordinates well with lab equipment.  Why do I feel like I have to put my geek on display in a room which is really only used to “shit, shower and shave”?

Then I was spending International Table Top day with my family.  Mom busted out her Star Trek Monopoly game she got for Christmas and had been desperate to play.  Monopoly is a painful exercise to begin with—let’s be real.  It’s wheeling and dealing and any family that doesn’t end the game with someone upturning the board is ahead in my book.  We actually haven’t done that to date but you get the idea.  Anyway add in the Star Trek element and there were moments were I was literally grinding my teeth.  Mom picking on Dad for not getting references proclaiming “see he’s not really a geek” only a few minutes later to turn around and discover that there were cards she didn’t recognize either.  AHA!  See you don’t really know anything either.

When did Star Trek monopoly become about proving who knows more about phaser settings and Theremins?  Shouldn’t we be fighting over the gold pressed latinum and whether or not it’s ego-centric that the Federation be equivalent to Park Place.  We all were whining that the creators of “Continuum edition” were so lazy they couldn’t even rename the Jail to be the Brig.  Seriously guys the Contiuum edition of Star Trek Monopoly blows.  Don’t buy it.  Worst. Monopoly Adaptation. Ever.

But back to my point.  IT was painful at times to have this feeling of “one-uping” over geek cred.  I’ve bemoaned this problem largely as a female in a world predominantly male but it occurs even when you remove the gender part of the equation.  Not as much and not as nastily, but it’s there nonetheless.  Why is this?  Well the pop-culture nerd-splosion in the hipster community is largely to blame I guess.  Lots of 20-somethings walking around sporting Han Solo back packs with absolutely no understanding what the phrase “Han Shot First” actually means. The problem is that now if you don’t know EVERYTHING about EVERYTHING in geek culture you are immediately suspected of being a phony.

Which leads back to my bathroom conundrum and my realization that lately I’ve been on a quest to absorb literally everything geeky to avoid this.  Frankly it’s exhausting.  Look I admit it; I didn’t know that Boba Fett was such an icon until late in High School when someone I knew started rambling on about the character.  And Jango Fett?  I didn’t know bantha shit about this character until the abomination of the new films.  I was more into Star Trek and while I’d read a number of Star Trek books, I’d never touched one for the Star Wars universe.  I’d seen, loved and worshipped the films but my fandom ended there.  Why?  There’s just not enough time to do it all.  It’s not fair to expect any of us to.  It’s also not fair to limit ourselves to only engaging in geeky pursuits out of a pressure to constantly demonstrate our involvement in the culture.

If I want a Barbie Bathroom then by Joss, I should be allowed to have a Barbie Bathroom and not have my passion for space aliens called into question.  Actually it’s got more of a floral vibe right now than anything else but you get my point.  It’s just exhausting otherwise and all we do is wind up alienating one another—and that’s not the kind of alien-nation we like.

Mango Bran Muffins

An Olivia Original Read more

Apr 2

1 Comment

Think Thin Tuesday: Angelicized Eggs

And so our Virtual Seder comes to a close on this last day of Pesach.  I hope you’ve learned a lot.  We talked about the 4 questions traditionally asked to guide each seder—after the last question there is an additional blessing of the matzah, the eating of the bitter herbs and then finally the move to the meal itself.  But wait…there’s one last item on the Seder plate before the meal!  I think this is officially the LONGEST seder I’ve ever attended and even with all this I still haven’t really explained all the proper procedures.  I didn’t realize how involved this holiday was until I started writing all this out for non-Jews.  No wonder you must get so confused about it.  Anyway on to the final piece of the traditional* seder plate: The final piece of the plate is….a hard-boiled egg – also known as the Beitzah.

Yup.  It’s not just an easter thing though I’m guessing some of you have leftover pastel colored eggs that you’ve got to use up dontcha?  Well let’s talk a wee bit about the significance of the egg in Judaism and then I’ll share with you a great skinny recipe for deviled eggs—half the calories!—that embraces all the delicious flavors of a good Jewish Deli.

After the story of Passover is told, hands are washed again, the Matzo is blessed, the Maror is eaten dipped in salt water and then in the Charoset only to finally be placed between two pieces of Matzo and eaten as a sandwich.  Then the hard-boiled egg is eaten and the meal can begin.  So what’s the significance of the Beitzah?  The egg in Judaism is a symbol of mourning—served at funerals.  I think this is because the egg is kind of the symbol of the opposite of death—new life and new beginning.  It is a reminder to be resilient and that life continues even in the face of the inevitable cold grasp of mortality.  Judaism is a very life affirming religion.  You might be familiar with “L’Chaim!” as the traditional toast offered up by your Hebrew friends.  This translates literally as “To Life!”  Life, and the protection of it, is the most sacred thing in Judaism—even if to defend it means to defy G-d.  That’s how important it is.

For Passover the egg as symbol of mourning ties back to the grief of loss of the Holy Temple.  The egg is also dipped in the salt water to mimic tears.  Such a happy holiday.  Anyway with this last piece we move onto the actual meal which is concluded with additional prayers, two more glasses of wine and the eating of the Afikomen—that last piece of Matza that gets hidden for the kidlets to find.  Between

the Matzo hunt, the paschal lamb and the eggs the holiday isn’t too far off from Easter after all is it?

My last piece to offer up is that the traditional seder plate contains all the items we discussed here but in recent years reform Jews have added a last element to the plate: an orange.    The orange symbolizes women, as well as homosexuals, in the Jewish faith and their fruitfulness.   Some families choose to incorporate this addition.  Others don’t—either because they are more Orthodox or just more traditional about their practices.  I’m not going to judge either way…at least not publicly.  Though I may have an orange Passover friendly recipe to toss up here this week just to be fair—almond cupcakes with orange cream cheese frosting anyone?  Just depends on how much time I have and if I figure out something to do for SciFriday this week.  But enough public pontificating.  Mazel Tov!  You made it through our Virtual Seder.  Now use up those hardboiled eggs and join me for some pizza and beer when the sun goes down because DAMN I could use a beer.

Now onto the Deviled, or maybe in this case I should call them Heavenly Eggs because with a little thought and effort I managed to reduce the typical caloric content of one single serving by half.  I don’t know about you but I can never eat just ONE deviled egg and after four or five you’ve basically consumed an entire meal.  Not really the best nutrition option for something that’s traditionally an appetizer or Hors d’oeuvre right?

Pesach Heavenly Eggs

An Olivia Original

Makes 24 deviled egg halves from 1 dozen eggs Read more

Mar 25

L’Chaim Muffin Monday: I’ll bake to that!

Passover begins tonight.  For the goyim readers out there Passover is a Jewish Holiday, one of the more important ones really, but it’s relatively glossed over during Easter time in the stores.  Don’t worry I’m not about to rant about how most Americans only know Hanukah (a far less important holiday) or how a very Catholic girl I knew once said “Yeah they always show the Moses story for Easter but I don’t know why.”

Oy.

You might have noticed this holiday in the past though.  Maybe a Jewish friend starts whining about not being able to eat pizza or shows up to work hungover after something called “First Say-dur?” and you’re a little curious just what this Passover thing is all about.  Okay so let me explain.  No wait, there is too much, let me sum up.  This is how I explain the point of most Jewish holidays to my coworkers or semi-interested friends: someone tried to kill us, we survived, and now we celebrate surviving yet another attempted genocide by eating weird foods and getting drunk.  Sound about right?

Okay so that’s something of an oversimplified explanation but Passover can be a little hard to explain in detail to the totally unaware.  And again I’m not going to whine about how no one knows anything about Jewish holidays or how far too many people who claim to be Christian and know their bibles have no clue about a key part of the Old Testament.  I’m not.  Really.  Because you know what?  I don’t know shit really about Islamic or Hindu holidays.  I know more than the average Uh-MARE-ican.  Enough that I know what the point of Ramadan is and not to eat in front of my Islamic friends those long days.  I know that I would love to someday see and participating in celebrating Diwali and Holi because from what little I know, these Hindu holy days that utilize light and color sound beautiful.  I’m actually really intrigued by Hinduism.  There’s a lot to it from what little I’ve researched (or in other words spent hours on Wikipedia procrastinating) that appeals to me.

I guess my point is I’m at least aware of the existence of some non-mainstream Christian holidays which is all I ask of most people for Passover too.  I try not to be haughty when people don’t know the deal with that weird flat bread (Matzo) or get annoyed when people reduce it to a week of the Atkins diet.  I’ll be patient when I explain why I’m cooking up a storm for Seder dinner aka the Jewish Thanksgiving (except not really because we have a lot of those, it’s called Shabbat or every Friday night.)  ?  Oh wait, what’s a seder?  The first night, and second, nights of Passover (which lasts for 8 days) feature a large feast with prayers, songs, wine and a lavish ritual meal.  This is called a “seder” and is a very big deal for the holiday.  The point of the meal is also to teach the youngest members of the family about the meaning of the holiday through a series of questions asked every year designed to retell the story.  There’s also the “Seder Plate” which contains 7 foods present at every Seder to help with the telling of the story.  Thus I had a thought: I’m not going to get to have a proper Seder with my friends this year.  Most of them are scattered across the land anyway in faraway places like LA, New York and I shudder to think of it—Montana.  How about a virtual seder through my blog?  You’re all invited to attend.  Starting tomorrow for each day of Passover I want to feature a food inspired by one of the Seder plate offerings and give you a little insight into the holiday.

In the meantime I’m getting in my last bit of chametz (bread) with these Masala Chai Tea Muffins.  Wait—Chai?  Olivia you’re mixing up your cultures!  Chai, pronounced with a soft ch like chimichanga, is a term for flavored black tea from India.  Chai, with a hard chhhhh phlegmy sound, is the symbol for life in Judaism.  You’d be most likely familiar with the term as a toast offered by Jewish friends with wine— “L’Chaim!” which means “To Life!”  These muffins are tasty enough that you might get a little culturally flustered too.  I prefer to think of it as a melding of worlds in tasty, pastry form.  Just sit back, enjoy the ride and take your last few bites of bread until April 3 rolls around.  I promise they are a tasty way to toast to the holiday.

Masala L’Chaim Muffins!

An Olivia Original Read more

Feb 12

1 Comment

Think Thin Tuesday: Horny as a Goat Tacos

It’s coming up on Valentine’s Day and that means two things: flowers and chocolate.  Past that it usually means an elaborate meal out with your honey that costs tons of money and usually leaves you full to the point of bursting.  Valentine’s day is the ultimate post-New Year’s diet trap for anyone trying to stay on track, or maybe get back on track, with a diet resolution.  Some of you might be ready to splurge on a nice fancy dinner after working hard the last 6 weeks since turning the corner on the fatty food trilogy that is Halloween-Thanksgiving-Christmas.  Some of you though, maybe haven’t been keeping it together so well and for you the thought of Valentine’s Day is “oh god here comes another holiday where I ‘m going to stuff my face and there’s going to be chocolate EVERYWHERE for days.”

That’s a big part of the problem with these holidays isn’t it?  If it were simply a single day out of  a month to celebrate that would be one thing.   Instead, in the wake of our consumerist culture and social obligations, these events really seem to stretch on for a week—at least!  There are office parties, friends parties, festivals, special events, shows, shopping deals and last but certainly not the last—the post-holiday clearance sale.   Halloween and Valentine’s Day definitely see weeks of lingering chocolates marked down 50% or more in drugstore bins nationwide and it can be so hard to resist a discount chocolate santa.  Soon enough this single holiday to reward yourself has turned into a smorgasbord that has undone the last month of hellish sacrifice and those five pounds just waddled back with their smiling, adiposian faces.

For someone like say, my mom, it’s always been a struggle.  My step-dad took a few years to learn that she really, truly does NOT want him to buy her chocolates on Valentine ’s Day.  Now what she means by this isn’t so much literally “I don’t want chocolates” but a general “I don’t want to be tempted by sweets or decadent meals, I’m trying to be good and stay on my diet and maintain willpower this year.”  I will always remember the infamous fortune cookie incident that I think finally hit home the request she makes year after year.  See my mom has unfortunately always struggled with her weight.  I have seen her on a perpetual diet since the day I was birthed into the world.  This is in part because she’s always had to work with a long commute and when she was a single mom forget it.  There was no time to exercise.  She also struggles with a metabolism problem that makes it harder for her to maintain a healthy figure and while many people I’ve known use that as an excuse, she legitimately does eat well and gain weight.  Carbs are not her friend even in the best of times.  So my mom routinely asks that for Valentine’s Day we avoid buying her chocolates.  My stepdad interpreted this after several years of buying chocolates anyway by buying my mom a GIGANTIC FORTUNE COOKIE that had been dipped in a candy shell.  We’re talking the size of a human head gigantic.  The rationale?  Well it wasn’t chocolate.  Cue the drama.  Anyway they laugh about it now, at least I hope they do, and in the years since he only buys my mom sugar free chocolates and only when she asks.  Not only does this help her manage her weight, but it demonstrates that he supports her efforts which makes her happy.

So if your honey is trying to stay good this year, but you want to still have a romantic meal, do yourself a favor and stay home.  Cook.  It’s easy and gives you complete control over the nutritional content of your food.  Plus it means so much when a meal is made for you by someone who loves you and men—if you are the one planning the menu get ready to be the talk of the town.  Every lady loves to brag when her man cooks for her and does it well.  So stay home and try this recipe that is high on flavor and low on guilt.  It’s got everything you could want: tortillas, cheese, red meat and pure deliciousness.  Oh and never fear, if you are looking for something completely sinful, I’ll be sharing several of those recipes in the days to come.

Goat meat is extremely lean, to the point that when it’s prepared improperly it can be gamey and unpleasant but when prepared correctly it has a very sweet and tender flavor.  That sweetness will get a boost from the citrus marinade and the meat will be perfectly cooked when you slice it thin and pan sear it just to barely cook.  The best part is that goat’s meat is lower in both fat and cholesterol than beef—in fact it’s lower in fat and cholesterol than chicken.  Meanwhile it’s almost double the iron content so you’re getting all the benefits of eating meat and reducing the bad.  Concerned about growth hormones?  Goat meat isn’t approved for hormone use so you don’t even have to worry about reading the package.  Not only will you steal your honey’s heart, you’ll be protecting it so that you can celebrate this holiday together 50 years down the road and feel just as young as you do today.

Foodies will be happy and delighted by the exotic element of this dish.  If your valentine is red-meating loving American he/she will love it too.  Buy some whole-wheat, low carb and high fiber wraps and you can be happy knowing that you are getting healthsome whole grains.  Finally a dollop of salted crème fraiche will add decadence and tang.  Why are these called horny as a goat tacos?  Well I don’t know about you but there are certain other things I associate with Valentine’s day.  Personally I can’t get very ardent about amorous activity when my stomach is weighing me down.  Plus, yes I’m being a girl here, but I don’t feel sexy after a super fat-laden meal.  Pair these with a nice salad, some strawberries and cinnamon spiced cream and a good Spanish wine and you will have a Latin meal that seduces through the stomach without weighing it down thus leaving room for *ahem* dessert.

Horny Goat Tacos

An Olivia Original Read more

Dec 17

2 Comments

Muffin Monday: Eggnog-ledging our Classroom Heroes

eggnog muffins (2)

This post is dedicated to all the teachers who helped me along my way in this crazy messed up world. My third grade teacher who pushed for my admission into gifted and talented.  My fourth grade teacher who handed me a copy of Anne of Green Gables—who nurtured and fostered a shy little girl in a way no one ever has since.  My fifth grade teacher who helped me when my world went to hell.  My seventh grade Science teacher who took me aside and told me the only reason she didn’t quit our school that year was because she wanted to see me through what was the worst year of my life.  My eighth grade English teacher for all of one month who pushed for my advancement to high school early.  My then ninth grade English teacher who helped me with the subsequent torture of being an oddity for skipping.  My tenth and twelfth grade Science teacher who gave me refuge, counsel and a pseudo father to look to—who introduced me to biotechnology and opened the door to my career path today.  To my 11th grade English teacher who let me sleep during first period when I had mono.  To the 12th grade Art History teacher who brought joy and culture in my life.  To the lit professors who kept me sane when I felt like I couldn’t do anything right in college and to the Plant Pathology professor who kept me from dropping out when I felt like no one would give someone with my health problems a break.

I’ve been blessed to have a lot of good, amazing teachers in my life.  I know we so often joke that those who can-do and those who can’t-teach.  It’s true and I’ve probably had significantly more bad teachers than good (especially when you account for the myriad of asshole college scientists forced to be “professors”) but the good far outweigh the bad in those misty water colored memories of my youth.  I will never, ever, ever forget them.  I can trace back so many things important and central to the person I am today to these individuals who spend their time in a thankless and undervalued profession.

This is probably why this weekend, when I finally broke down and read some stories about the shooting, I turned into a ridiculous sobbing mess in my living room.  I also desperately needed a good cry.  I know that sounds silly but for me crying can be a huge emotional relief.  Just like there are other forms of physical relief, tears and a few deeply rooted emotional sobs can help me release tension and process emotions I don’t even know I’m carrying.  I haven’t really had a breakdown like this in months…not since July or so at least.  I’ve been numb to it.  I’ve had plenty of moments where I could cry, where I wanted to, where the emotions were there and I probably even said that I had cried—but the truth is I’ve been so numb and so tired, anytime I got to that point I couldn’t actually do it.

eggnog muffins (6)(1)

The photo of that young teacher Victoria Soto finally triggered it.  The story of this young woman, who looks like she must be around my age, protecting her students so fiercely really hit me.  I also had just read words NOT actually from Morgan Freeman but widely accredited to him (incorrectly) about the shootings:

 ”It’s because of the way the media reports it.  Flip on the news and watch how we treat the Batman theater shooter and the Oregon mall shooter like celebrities.

eggnog muffins (3)Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris are household names, but do you know the name of a single *victim* of Columbine? Disturbed people who would otherwise just off themselves in their basements see the news and want to top it by doing something worse, and going out in a memorable way.

“Why a grade school? Why children? Because he’ll be remembered as a horrible monster, instead of a sad nobody.

CNN’s article says that if the body count “holds up”, this will rank as the second deadliest shooting behind Virginia Tech, as if statistics somehow make one shooting worse than another. Then they post a video interview of third-graders for all the details of what they saw and heard while the shootings were happening. Fox News has plastered the killer’s face on all their reports for hours.

“Any articles or news stories yet that focus on the victims and ignore the killer’s identity? None that I’ve seen yet. Because they don’t sell. So congratulations, sensationalist media, you’ve just lit the fire for someone to top this and knock off a day care center or a maternity ward next.

“You can help by forgetting you ever read this man’s name, and remembering the name of at least one victim. You can help by donating to mental health research instead of pointing to gun control as the problem. You can help by turning off the news.”

I know it turns out this was a random post by someone on a message board and not Morgan Freeman.  It doesn’t make it any less true and it’s certainly the most accurate and poignant thoughts I’ve seen on the situation amidst the 2nd amendment squabbling taking over social media.

eggnog muffins (4)

I still don’t actually know the name of the shooter from this latest tragedy and I’m making it a point not to know.  I will remember Victoria Soto though, along with all the other teachers who touched my life, in defiance of this madness.  I will be looking into getting involved in mental health charities as one of my new years resolutions not just because of this tragedy, but because my own life and my own family, has been directly affected by this problem.  Most importantly I will remind you all that it shouldn’t take a massacre and the sacrifice of their lives to remind us all what heroes our teachers are this holiday season.  They do so much for us to begin with and putting their lives on the line?  That’s not in the job description yet time and again we see them do that for children that often, never give them half the respect they deserve.

 

Eggnog Muffins

an Olivia Original Read more

Sep 18

1 Comment

Think Think Tuesday: Tzimmes Down Now!

Oh my gosh! Wrapping things up at work is keeping me so busy. Everyone wants to get in those last minute requests before the transitions fully take place and before I walk out of these halls, making that final walk against the wind tunnel never to return again…. Okay overly dramatic. I’m going to be down the street and half the people I work with have my personal number. It’s not like I’m never going to be around those buildings again and hopefully I’ll still see a lot of these folks in the evenings on occasion. In the meantime there’s a lot to get through and I find myself just needing a chance to “tzimmes down now” especially as this is supposed to be a time of the year for me to reflect and work on changing those pesky flaws of character of mine.

Rosh Hashanah is almost over, for those of you who didn’t know it’s a two-day new year celebration of the Jewish religion. Most reform Jews really only actively observe the first day but it ends at sundown tonight. As such I decided that I would bring you not one but two recipes celebrating this year. No one at home was up for a big brisket and shebang this year, but in the spirit of needing to simma down and get myself steadied this weekend, I’m bringing you this recipe I’ve developed for a delicious tzimmes.

What is Tzimmes? Good question. Tzimmes is a traditional Jewish dish for the new year of sweetened, stewed carrots with honey. The honey again symbolizes the wish for a sweet new year and good blessings. The carrots are usually cut into round circles to mimic the look of gold coins. Hold the Jew Gold jokes please, the coin imagery is about wishing a prosperous year ahead but that doesn’t have to translate entirely literally. Of course a little extra cash wouldn’t hurt right?

Typically this dish is beefed up with additional root vegetables, orange juice and prunes–and the result is usually mushy and sickly sweet. Most recipes I’ve seen call for a great deal of sugar, honey, orange juice and dried fruit. 4 big sources of sugar plus carrots which are a sweeter vegetable. I loved this stuff as a kid and no wonder, but as an adult I started to find most tzimmes a little cloying. Last year I cooked my brisket with it and that helped a bit–the meat added some fat and rich flavors to balance out all the sweet but it really didn’t make the meal any healthier.

This year I balanced out the sweet a bit by using a larger ratio of cranberries to prunes (I love prunes but the cranberries add a tart bite), cutting back on the amount of honey/sugar/orange juice and rounded out the loss of liquid with extra vegetable broth. This is a vegetarian option recipe so you can amp up the flavor a bit by using a chicken or beef broth instead. I also made sure to use as much of a variety of root vegetables as possible, I just love parsnips, and even added in a little rhubarb. Rhubarb typically is spring produce but we have these weird Indian Summers in northern california so I occasionally still find some at the Farmer’s Markets. I debated using some radishes but decided I didn’t want quite that level of peppery bit in the mix. It should still be a sweet dish for the holiday. Finally there’s the matter of whether or not to peel the vegetables.

This is what 1 serving looks like.

The word tzimmes comes from an amalgamation of yiddish words that translates into “for” – “eating” but the word is also synonymous with the idea of “making a fuss” about something. The etymology for this connotation is thought to derive from the fussy nature of preparation for the dish. While cooking it takes very active effort, beforehand you typically would peel and finely chop and dice all the various root veggies. If you want to save yourself some time and get a little bit more in the way of good for you minerals, I say skip this step. For a lot of root vegetables the greatest source of nutrition lies in their outer skins so if you really want to get the best out of your meal for your body this is a great excuse to say buh-bye to tradition and cut 10 minutes off prep time.

What you wind up with using this recipe is a delicious stewed blend of veggies that pair really nicely with some roasted chicken drumettes. That’s how I’m eating dinner tonight to wrap up the holiday. Again this is still a very sweet recipe and I could easily see giving it the thanksgiving treatment and turning it into dessert with just a few marshmallows on top. I bet even the pickiest of vegetable eaters will be happy with this one. As a bonus a single cup serving is about 170 calories which makes it a reasonable side dish or when doubled a great main course.

New Year Resolution Tzimmes

Olivia Original – 6 servings – 170 calories a cup Read more

Sep 3

1 Comment

Muffin Monday: Do you know the Muffin Doctor?

Knock Knock

Who’s there?

Doctor

Doctor…Who?

He’s back!  He’s back!  Ah life is sweet again now that my favorite mad man with a blue box will be gracing television every week.  Doctor Who really is such a magical show for us Whovian geeks.

What is the allure of it?  Why has a low-budget sci-fi series, with a villainous race wielding toilet plungers, captured the hearts and minds of millions?

It could be the line of doctors, all with their own sexy appeal ranging from dark and dangerous to dashing and debonair.  The Brits gave us James Bond and The Doctor.  Both have sweet rides, amazing gadgets and a line of ladies.  Wonder which of the two men would most aspire to be.  After all James Bond might get to seduce Pussy Galore but who is she compared to Madame de Pompadour?  Tell me in the comments below: Bond or the Doctor?  Sexy or …Dr. Sexy.  Okay so yes we’ve established that the doctor is very, very sexy.  So too is Tardis as last season informed us when she named herself as such.  Sex sells but it sells a lot of things.  That can’t be all there is to the show.  What is it?  What is the thing that keeps the avid viewer coming back?

It’s the escape.

Escape from linear existence.  Escape from boring drudgery.  Escape to travel, see new worlds, to meet new people, to live a life of adventure and danger and a total surrender to the majesty of the universe.  Somehow total control over the realm of time and space simultaneously also allows you to surrender control completely to entropy of it.  As the doctor says:

It’s not the urge to jump, it’s deeper than that. It’s the urge to fall!

It’s a total abandon of our lives into the ultimate fantasy adventure and so even the most ridiculous elements of it are magical and delightful.  WHO can resist that?

Will there ever be a day I don’t wake up with a small part of me wishing to hear that whirring sound and discover that a police box has landed on my front lawn?  Okay so the allure is about escapism.  Why do so many of us want to escape?  Escape from what?  I don’t know what it is I want so desperately to escape from but I know that sci-fi in general, and its sister genre fantasy, is so much about houdining out of your life into a realm of wonder.  I want adventure in the great wide somewhere.  I want it more than I can tell.  I want to experience and explore everything so much.  Right now I’m actually feeling kind of antsy writing this post.  I want something BIG to happen.  Once I hit publish I might need to go for a run or something to work this feeling out of my system so  I can focus on all the little tasks I need to do.  Today at least, I know I want to escape the dreariness of daily chores and life.  I think that’s what’s drawn me to set work lately.  Acting/Film is a way to explore so many facets of life and about as close to an actual holodeck as I can get.  Oh my god . That’s it.  That’s why I like being on set.  I want to be on a holodeck or, better yet, in my own Tardis.

Of course there’s also the extra allure of the show in that it’s just so very British. Bloody brilliant that.  There are a number of things I love about England though typically their food isn’t noted as one of the highlights by most.  Aside from fried fish, potatoes and scones the food is typically considered flavorless, colorless and boring.  I say bollocks!  There must be good English food.  After all what is American food really but fried meats, corn and sugary sweets?  Not too far off in how we view it.  I was mulling over what kind of muffins to make for breakfast this week and realize I was craving something a little more yeasty than usual and a little less sweet.  Hmmmmm.  Of course!  English muffins.

The English muffin was certainly developed in England but so were a number of other dishes.  I’m not sure why the nationality of origin stuck on this particular food.  It certainly comes in handy to distinguish them from what Americans consider muffins.

Did you know: English muffins are the subject of the popular nursery rhy “Do you know the muffin man?”  In the rhyme the muffin man peddles baked goods prepared with yeast and cooked on a skillet.  American muffins, or just plain old muffins, are quick breads made without yeast and which leaven using baking powder/soda and are baked.  The downside to making this English variety?  It takes a lot more time.  There are several leavening steps and so it’s more involved than mixing the wet stuff into the dry stuff, shoving it in a hole and heating it for 30 minutes.

If only a certain doctor could make a house call…I could skip over those boring parts and jump right to the freshly baked deliciousness.

English Muffins

From “The Bread baker’s apprentice” by Peter Reinhart Read more

Aug 27

2 Comments

Muffin Mondays: Whole Wheat Crackberry Muffins

I have a dirty confession to make: I use my phone in the bathroom.  Then again so do 3 out of 4 of you readers.  So this is your confession too.

No-mo-phobia.  Ever heard of it?  It’s short for “No Mobile Phobia” and is now considered the number 1 phobia in the US/UK affecting over 60% of the population. The exact definition is “an irrational fear of being without access to one’s cell phone.”  Warning signs include:

  • An inability to turn off your phone
  • Obsessively checking your phone for calls/emails/text messages
  • Worrying about battery life / constantly seeking to “refuel”
  • Taking your phone with you everywhere…including the bathroom.

Oh days of past before iPhones and Androids and Blackberries…how did we survive?  How did I manage to navigate life without a smart phone in my pocket buzzing away?   It seems my pockets reverberate every minute with twitter feed updates and text messages, the almost rhythmic vibrations that keep me feeling connected to the world.  I have come to rely on its presence; so much so in fact that without it I begin to get anxious and flustered.  I’ll find my hand grazing the pocket just to assure myself that the phone is there and not left forgotten on a counter or in my car.  I’ll stop in the middle of the street, holding up traffic, just to rummage through my purse because I have a split second where I think I may have forgotten it.

Call it a curse of my youth.  The Strawberry Generation are most afflicted (17-25 year old age group) with a whopping 77% self-reporting a need to constantly check their phones.  The 25-35 year old age range follows shortly after at 68%.  This is all information gathered by a UK group called SecurEnvoy and is entirely self-reported information so keep the statistics in mind with grain of salt.  It may be that some members of the older generation just partake in surveys less frequently but it’s not hard to believe that these numbers are accurate or even under reporting our addiction to keeping the entire world in our pockets.

It always strikes me when I will say, leave a yoga class only to see 7 adults all veering straight to their cubbies and what do they do first?  Towel off?  Get some water?  Do a post-class stretch?  Nope they reach for the phones and the room is full of bent down necks peering at tiny screens with ardent supplication to technology.

In an entirely separate survey conducted in the states it was found that 40% of young adults would rather give up brushing their teeth for a week than cellphones.  Gross but not entirely that surprising to me as I honestly don’t think I could say otherwise and that is terrifying.  Is this really a phobia or an addiction…?  I know I am far too likely to fall to pieces when I think I’ve lost my phone.  The longer I go on thinking I’ve misplaced it, the more I feel an intense anxiety that leads to hyperventilation and severely increased hear rate.  I haven’t ever actually lost my phone and I’ve always managed to locate it before I burst into tears or do anything drastic but I always feel a damn fool after the fact.  It’s just a phone.  It’s just a thing and it’s a thing designed with incredible backup systems now making it entirely possible to replace most of the content on it.

Once upon a time it was just the “crackberry” users who had this kind of heavy reliance upon their mobiles.  I made fun of them for missing out on the world and but I got sucked in the second it became possible to access the internet from anywhere I stood.  I know for me at least the addiction comes from being able to access knowledge at any moment when I need it.  I’m a knowledge addict.  I want to know the answers to everything and I want to know them now.  It’s not fair really.  Shouldn’t we have to work for it?  Won’t I be more likely to remember, more apt to appreciate what went into securing it, if it takes more than a few keystrokes to look up the capital of Kentucky?

But it’s just so damn useful!  I don’t know.  What do you think?  Maybe there are some good editorial articles I can pull up on this.  Where’s my phone, I need to run a search….

In the spirit of our crack-blackberries I’ve got an equally addictive muffin recipe for you.  No joke, I brought these into work and had two people come back for seconds within the hour.  That almost never happens.  Primarily because stuff gets eaten up too soon for anyone to return in time to grab another round.

Whole Wheat Blackberry Muffins
Modified from “Little Cakes: from the Whimsical Bakehouse”
Read more

« Older Entries
Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 813 other followers