TheSnackHound

Well, dear readers, the party’s over for me.  No matter how much glucosimine and antioxidants I pack my meals with, my legs aren’t getting any better. 

Recently, my brother came for a much anticipated visit, as we hadn’t seen eachother in two years!  He is in the physical therapy/sports medicine field so I thought he would be an authority to declare me “falling apart at the seams at a young age.”   What the root of the problem was not a dislocated hip from a car accident years ago like I thought, but an impacted hip brought about by sitting on my rear!  You heard it here first.  You can actually do more damage to yourself by NOT exercising.  Yes, I literally broke my butt! What’s the glory in having an interesting injury like that?  What tale would I tell? 

It wouldn’t be: “Oh, the limp’s nothing.  I got it running the Boston Marathon.  They told me not to enter that morning, as I had just saved a small town from a rabid bear the night before.  I got a medal for my injuries anyway.”  It would have to be:  “You see that mean hunk of Walnut?  That’s Old Dan, the meanest library chair this side of the Mason Dixon.    You see that hairline crack in the wood?  Old Dan is lucky after I had my tangle with him. I may limp, but normal people don’t get out of that alive”

The remedy he gave me was to – you guessed it – exercise. Daily eating habits are, of course, critical in this whole equation, but you can only eat yourself so thin and so healthy unless you actually get off your rear.   I started out with very light ankle weights the first couple weeks, and some simple stretches, but I am getting a bit bored with it and am moving on to the next level. 

Since I am a Apple-Cran-Grape Juice and Neopolitan ice cream indecisive kind of gal, I think XFLOWSION would be perfect for me to try.   It is not just martial arts, its not just yoga, and its not just a dance class…it is everything at the same time.    At first I thought it was for people like my mother-in-law who bakes a cake at twice the temperature in half the time because she doesn’t have the time to wait around.  On the contrary, it is not about cramming more of your day into as little time as possible.   The change in intensity and movement actually gets you beyond that “plateau.”     When you have gotten in better shape, but have hit a wall, it helps you break through and gain muscle town, or lose those last five pounds, depending on your goal.

Eric Paskel is not just an everyday gym guy.  He is an athlete, of course, but he also has a background in psychology, and really has worked out a system that keeps people motivated.   I may just be his biggest challenge, as my brain is always multi-tasking and on to the next thing while I am supposed to be doing something. 

Secretly, what motivates me to do it more is because Shape magazine called it the “Strangest Workout You’ll Ever Love.”  I don’t usually do what the magazines tell me to do, but if its “Strange?”  I’m in!  As you know from reading this blog, I am far from cookie cutter.

I am really excited to start as soon as I get the tapes. 

(At left “It’s Just Little Old Me” who baked this cake!)

Before my aunt and uncle**  were married, my uncle announced that he was going to bake her a cake for her birthday.  The family was pleasantly surpised that this young man thought so much of my aunt that he would do something very out of the ordinary and go so out of his way.   The birthday came, and he brought the cake to the party.  It was beautifully frosted.   It was hard to believe that the quality of the job came from a mere spatula!

My aunt began to cut the cake, and as she pressed the knife in, she remarked:

“Wow, this cake is so light!  Is it angel food?”

She cut all the way in and then the mystery was revealed!  It was a sponge cake.  Literally.  My uncle had frosted a large sponge as a joke.  Luckily, the whole family thought it was the best joke ever.  He also brought a real, edible cake that wasn’t as light and airy.  To this day, the family still talks about that cake from over 35 years ago. 

Do you have any good family “baking” stories like that?

(** Not the same uncle of the “chocolate chips in a cup” fame)

Many of my friends all volunteer for one cause or another, many in animal rescue, or in missionary work.  Often, they wish they could do more, but their employment and family responsibilities on top of it make it hard for them to do as much as they feel called to do.  I am in a unique situation, being a part time freelancer, but one of my friends is not.  She remarks often that she has too many volunteer commitments to find a new job!

The problem with finding a job that allows one to flex around volunteer work and family usually involves your rear end greatly expanding while you sit in a call center, your rear end greatly expanding as you stand around serving unhealthy food that you, of course, are tempted to eat because it is there in mass quantities. Those seem like the most popular options. 

I have long considered different job ideas for someone who needs to be mentally stimulate more than “mother’s hours” at the card shop.  I remember my mom saying that between getting us off to school, volunteering, and helping with homework, a true “mother’s hours” job would be from 1:30 P.M. to 2:37 P.M.  That is all she would be able to commit to.  I thought that was kind of funny.

Ever since my brother went to massage school to become a therapist, I thought about another flexible profession: Personal Trainer.  CareerBuilder.com recently highlighted fitness training as the #9 part-time job of 2008. Of course, you need a desire to help others and to get your fitness certification That would run you around $600. Don’t worry about not looking like a fitness model.  Most personal trainers have regular bodies, they just strive to make the best of what they were born with.   In fact, I think a client would be intimidated to walk in and see a Lady Wrestler or Mr. America standing there. People that have battled the bulge or worked through a car accident or post baby weight are people they can relate to.

The bonus, of course, is getting yourself into the best health that you can while you are on the job so you can be around for those helpless offspring creatures for many years to come.

I used to love getting the tableside “Caesar Salad” making service.   At some upscale restaurants, usually Bananas Foster is another dish that is made tableside.    You might not expect someone to come to your table and make drinks, however.

When we were kids, there were occasions that much of the whole family would go out to a restaurant.  It may be after a funeral, on the way home from the fair, or whatever the case may be.   Somehow, the parents allowed myself and a few of my cousins to sit at a table together against their better judgement.   We were not bad children (so we say).  We didn’t run around.  We were the kids who were more likely to be “a little too quiet.”   Inevitably, though, there would be culinary creations emanating from our table.  Yes, even at a Big Boy’s restaurant there was enough to work with.  All of those tantalizing caddies of additives and jellies awaited us.

My brother always ordered a glass of water with lemon, and then would confiscate the lemons from everyone else, not proud to ask at the “grown up” tables as well.  He would take the sugar packets lined in their little caddy, too.   With sugar granuals liberally littering the table, he squeezed and mixed his own lemonade.   Usually, it took half a glass of tasting to get the ratio of sugar, water, and squeezed lemon wedges just right.  He would then declare his creation a masterpiece and pedal his wares to the several tables our extended family took up.

Oddly enough, he got few special orders.

Here is how hand squeezed lemonade is supposed to go:

1 cup sugar (white.  No fancy schmancy stuff or your lemonade is going to be awfully crunchy)
6 lemons
6 cups of water
6 cups cold water

Squeeze the lemons, pour the juice in a pitcher, add the sugar, and stir in 6 cups of cold water.   If you really rather prefer your water temperature not be dictated to you, and you like warmed over lemonage, go for an alternative temperature.   If you think that is not enough sugar, just go to town, but it will surely be to your taste and not mine.

Actually, since the ratio is 6 to 1 seems to be the golden mean of lemonade,  maybe my brother was actually not so far off. If he combined all the lemon slices and it added up to one whole lemon, I could imagine he could dump enough of those sugar packets to make approximately 1/6 of a cup of sugar.

On the way home, we crashed in the car due to not only the ratio but the sheer volume of sugar that was consumed through a straw througout the evening, even though our breath and hands and sleeves smelled as refreshing as lemon scented Pledge. Our parents didn’t need car air fresheners. When you are doing this level of experimenting, you drink your mistakes.

On each side of our family, there is a holiday dessert tradition.   For Christmas, my Grandmother bakes the secret family cookie recipe, and the aunts each take turns bringing the pretzel jello.  Grandma only makes the cookies once a year, and the pretzel jello had a brief hiatus from about 1991 to 1996, during a period of time my sister had ongoing health issues, and therefore did not want to see jello ever again.     On my husband’s side, everyone decides somehow to bring a dessert, and then we end up with a person to dessert ratio of 2 to 1, but at least 1 to 1.  (A “dessert” constitutes an ENTIRE pie, cake, or entire packaged of profiteroles.) It always happens accidentally.

The first Thanksgiving that we spent at our new home, we were not able to spend the holiday with our family. All of my family, and my husband’s extended family lived in two different states and we couldn’t afford a trip having had a major relocation. We sent a photo of our holiday table to friends and family, and they did the same to sort of share the day with eachother.   We talked about what we ate over the phone and who came, and were all sort of bummed out at what we missed.    The grass is always greener.

This gave me an idea!    Instead of the typical Photo Christmas Cards this year with my husband, myself, and the dogs, the theme is going to be “Ha Ha, Guess what you’re not eating!”
I would take a photo of our table with my famous giant chocolate pudding cake on it for the card and say “Merry Christmas. Wish You Were Here. Darn, look what you missed!” I would put a piece with a big bite out of it where my brother would usually sit to show that I already took a bite out of his slice.   Maybe, I would use the types of cards which required multiple photos, so I could walk around the cake and show it from different angles.

Oh, this is perfect. Doodlebugsdezigns.com has cards where you can get the back printed up also like this:

Of course, instead of someone’s kids that we don’t know, I could write up a little narrative on the back of the card. It is not really as mean as you think.  He can take it!   It probably would inspire a quick missive from a few recipients who would send a card with a photo of an empty tin with just crumbs, as they ate all of Grandma’s cookies.

Of course, I would first send a card proclaiming Glory to the Newborn King.  That of course, would be my first priority, but being a sister, I have a secondary duty in this world to be a pain in the butt in a grand, and well calculated way. Having received the initial card, he won’t suspect a second.

Years back on the Food Network, I used to watch Door Knock Dinners.  Gordon Elliot ran into people on the streets or parkings lots of America and would offer to make dinner for their family with whatever they happened to have in the house at that moment.  It would be a bonus if they had a well stocked spice rack, but sometimes, even so, you wondered what he was going to do with a package of hit dogs, a freezer burnt piece of fish and Wonder Bread.

I miss that show!

Half the fun was him looking for people to cook for.  Half the people didn’t know the show and just thought he was a crazy person.  Nowadays, if the show ran, it would be the equievelant of people roaming through New York to look for the “Cash Cab.”   Folks would be driving around slow to try to find Gordon Elliot chasing after people in parking lots.

I did an internet search for Mr. Elliot, and in none of his bios does it mention the show.   Wonder if his credits are just so vast, or was he sort of embarrassed of the show?  Who knows.  The only evidence on the net of the existence of the show was a clip of an “Iron Chef” version of the show, which you can check out on Youtube.

Okay, aspiring Gordon Elliots out there, here are the contents of my cupboards, pre-grocery trip.  What would you make of it?

- A pretty well stocked spice rack.  That is a bonus.
– A few cans of soup that have been sitting there since my husband’s been on a low sodium diet (chicken noodle)
– Canned Salmon that an Aunt bought us.   Like tuna fish…but salmon.  We have just never touched it.
– Frozen ocean perch.  I love lake perch and miss it.  Ocean perch I guess tastes different.   My husband won’t touch it.
– A Tastefully Simple Garlic! Garlic! mix presumablty to make dip.
– Chocolate Soy Milk
– Horseradish
– Pretzel Chips
– Flour

If you were also a fan of the show, let me know what you would do, besides just opening up the can of soup and calling it a meal.