I woke up hungry and wondered – will I forever wake up hungry now? What’s all this talk about “stomach shrinkage”? When will I feel less hungry? I also thought about the amount of food I’ve been eating lately because I’ve stopped using my regular plates (because it was far too depressing to see those scattered veggies, playing card size meat and ALL that plate) and now am using dessert plates. The bowl I used to have oatmeal in has been abandoned for a cup. The soup I ate today? I ate in a measuring cup because I wanted the bowl to look at least decently full, and a “1 cup serving” does not fill any bowl in my house. I have an old quote stuck in my mind about how life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving in a well-preserved body, but to skid in broadside with chocolate in one hand and a bottle of red in the other, totally worn out and exclaiming, “wow, what a ride”. Why do I have these myths of bounty? So, day 4 – filled with wondering: is this what my life is going to be like? Eating out of a measuring cup?
I did a workout through the day (that I also started on Monday) and the trainer is telling the audience that it’s probably Thursday (hey, yes it is!), I probably began on Monday (right again!), and I’m probably feeling like I don’t want to do it. The weekend is coming, it’s novelty has worn off, I’m feeling more tired. (She’s like a mind-reader.) The statistic that she quotes, that I have no way of verifying, is that only 2% of the population will continue on and make the long-term lifestyle change. You’ve got to decide to be the 2%, and in order to do that: pick up those weights and pump them then eat your soup from the measuring cup and quit complaining. This is an EXERCISE IN TOUGH LOVE! “You think you deserve that chocolate, you deserve that glass of wine. Well, you don’t”
Well…well…well. I’m no good with that kind of reasoning, so I’m going to try to excise tough love today. I will look at my cup of soup and consider: right now, this is a lot more than I’ll probably be eating later. It’s bountiful! In order to get into the bountiful mindset, I decided on a buffet dinner and proclaimed it “Skewer Night”. My parents were staying with us after arriving from Vancouver so I had to make food for 6 and I wanted to give a lot of options. The Dollar Store has these really short bamboo skewers (in honour of making everything minature) that I really liked, so I picked up a bag and made a tray of roasted veggie skewers. Then I cut up different kinds of protein and put 2oz of meat on each skewer so that I knew I could have 2.
It really did give the “appearance” of bounty. You could choose from quinoa or a brown/wild rice blend, take as many veggies as you like and choose from salmon, shrimp, scallop or greek marinated skewers. We fed six comfortably and had enough leftovers for two full protein salads the next day.
Turned out in the end that tough love wasn’t so tough today.
1 slice rye toast
1/2 beefsteak tomato sliced
1/4 cup frozen peaches
1 cup milk
1 cup split pea soup
2 whole wheat crackers
tabasco for both
1/3 cup quinoa
grilled red onion, zucchini, tomato, yellow pepper
2 oz scallops
2 oz grilled chicken
I really liked the size of the supper meal – making it buffet style with a lot of choices felt good, but the best meal of the day was the split pea soup, which I made last week and froze in part for this week. Spring has been lazy in coming to Toronto, so having soup on a rainy/snowy April afternoon is just right and…this recipe is a winner in that department.
Split Pea Soup (Serves 8-10)
Combine the following in a Dutch oven bring everything to a boil them simmer and medium-low heat until the split peas get deliciously mushy. (Around an hour and a half)
- 1 package (16 ounces) dried split peas
- 8 cups vegetable or chicken stock
- 2 large onions, chopped
- 2 medium carrots, chopped
- 2 cups cubed cooked ham
- 1/2 cup chopped celery
- 1 teaspoon marjoram
- 1 teaspoon sage
- 1/2 to 1 teaspoon white pepper
- 1/2 teaspoon dried basil
- 1/2 teaspoon salt, optional
Best served in a small bowl with a dash of tabasco.