Radio silence around here for a bit, but I've been busy gestating.

That's right. We're having a kid -- sometime on or around early June. And it's a ride all of its own.

I may be back here in the future. But for now, feel free to redirect your browsers to: oldfatknockedup.blogspot.com

Something's Got to Give

Roll your eyes, Miss Marilyn. It's that sort of post.

Barre class last night. A tough class -- and I'm playing catch-up thanks to my two-week exercise freeze. It's amazing how fast muscles regress. I'm certainly paying for this nugget of knowledge.

I managed to stay fairly upright on the physio ball. But then a lunge sequence started. And within two moves, I fell flat on the floor. Luckily in the back of the room (and -- more luckily -- only my ego was bruised), but that moment brought me as close to a physical meltdown as I've ever had in public.

(I come from a family of cryers -- for happy and sad things. Different from my kin, however, is my personal challenge of crying at frustrating/anger-inducing things. I've come to accept this personal weakness and have coping mechanisms to keep the tears in check when they're not appropriate. But let me tell you, anger tears are the worst -- and absolutely the most difficult to control.)

You see, sustaining a lunge when your lower stomach gets in the way of a full stretch and balance -- even though you could do it if the physical barrier wasn't there -- is beyond difficult. Forget about knee and joint issues; we're talking actual inability to reach around, brace on the floor, and hold position.

People think overweight folks don't exercise because they are lazy. And sure, there may be truth in that -- but no more so than the regular lazy population. What gets me is not that workouts are challenging or sweaty or gasp-inducing (they should be), but the sheer ignorance of what is physically possible by many people.

Imagine going to any given workout knowing there will be a moment where you outright fail. That's what I have to overcome mentally. Every. Single. Time.

I've had instructors stare blankly in my face when I've asked for props or modifications to work around my stomach (yet they'll always help a pregnant woman -- I'm at a loss on this one). I've suffered through rashes and broken skin in places you don't want to consider. I'm motivated to make this work because I am ridiculously stubborn. But there are times you want to give in because the mental stress of it all is just too much.

My new buddy Karen reached out to me in the silliness of the last couple weeks to share a few links and ideas of why my body refuses to let go, despite eating lower-carb (30-40g/day) AND low calorie (1600-1800/day). Pick your nutritional theory -- I'm doing it.

Some of the ideas -- such as sleeping in a totally dark room (we do...until the sun comes up and then it's HELLO, SUNSHINE!) and eliminating dairy for possible autoimmune/inflammation issues -- seem test-worthy. But then she sent me this:

"We've seen people eating an anti-inflammatory paleo diet for upwards of a year with little change in scale weight. They feel better, but weight is slow to budge. Then suddenly, 'something' changes and weight loss is rapid and easy." (boldface mine)

And really, you have to ask yourself: When do you say "enough is enough?" When do you stop believing that it's all going to come together? And -- personal irritation here -- why in HELL is it always people who have never had a weight problem (or alternatively men who lost 80+ pounds in a month -- don't get me started on that) who are telling us to just keep going, trust in the system, it'll all be fine. There are many days where it doesn't feel fine. There's a LOT more mental anguish and -- for the first time in my life -- sheer body hatred going on over here.

You should know I'm doing this not because of vanity or fashion or any of the usual self-involved reasons, but to avoid my family's diabetic and cancer-riddled fate. And, hopefully, in order to reduce my chances of a complicated pregnancy sometime in the next year. These are my goals. This is why the number on the scale -- and its refusal to change -- is so devastating to me.

I'm not giving up. I do feel more alert, less sluggish, and have far less cravings eating the way I do now than I did before. But I don't know that I can give any more. I'm being asked to have faith where science should provide. And, try as I might to find what I'm doing wrong, I know (and The Brit has assured me) that I'm not doing anything wrong. I've been failed -- by the system, by biology, by experts, by expectations.

When do you wave the white flag? Because I'll tell you -- I've got a pile full of Kleenex sitting here that, though soggy, can be waved at any time.

Feeding the Soul

The Mean Reds. Boy, did I ever have a case of them this week. And I assure you, my hair wasn't nearly as coiffed as Our Audrey is displaying here.

In case you haven't seen Breakfast at Tiffany's (which is a wrong that should be immediately corrected, by the way): "The Mean Reds are horrible. It's when you're afraid, and you don't know what you're afraid of."

It doesn't happen to me often -- thank goodness -- but each experience with the Mean Reds is different. This one manifested as an almost total personal paralysis. I managed to continue business as usual, but outside of my home office I was an intolerable mess. Non-communicative; desperate for sleep, yet reverting to a third shift schedule (never a good sign); completely unable to do more than the bare minimum. How I managed to stick to eating lower-carb is beyond me, but I did. Small victories.

Sometime Friday afternoon, after hours of copyediting for a client, I noticed a shift. As inexplicably as the Mean Reds hit, they left within an hour. I finished work, took a swim, listened to preseason football, and managed to get out the door for dinner with friends. A glass of wine and some olives later, it was as if this horrible, awful, no-good week never happened.

Yesterday, The Brit and I slept in, leisurely lunched, and did a little antique hunting. Happy hour with friends turned into many hours, a dissertation of the pros and cons of dating a sea captain, late supper, and merriment into the wee hours. Today, we headed north to the Musical Instrument Museum and barely scratched the surface of their amazing collection. And I realized something, somewhere around Mozambique...

Perhaps this new way of living -- this diet or lifestyle or what-have-you -- is more than simple numbers and calculations. Perhaps the bigger part of it is also evaluating what is critical to invigorating your life force and what is, literally and figuratively, dead weight. Good people and a sense of community are as essential to me as water and breathing. As is music, some of which can stir me at such a base, primal level that I (shockingly!) can't put the feeling into words. I just know it's right and incredibly vital to who I am.

This weekend reminded me what I crucially need. And suddenly, part of that need is to get back to dance classes and movement. I'm hopefully saying goodbye to the Mean Reds for quite some time now, but I'm grateful for what this bout taught me. And for the good sense to know that everything -- even mental states -- balance out in the end.

Good Eats: The Brit's Famous Chicken

Last year, a small portion (about 20 -- yes, that's small) of my family descended on Phoenix for cousins' graduations. Inevitably, I invited the whole bunch over for "an evening catered by Grill Master Steven."

Minutes later, The Brit ran into my office, panicking. "Grill Master Steven?!! We just got the grill! I barely know how to turn it on!!"

I assured him it would be fine. Just steaks and chicken. Maybe some grilled vegetables. And then I immediately skedaddled for a few work days in New York.

While I was gone, The Brit grilled "test steaks" every night (to my and many NYC friends' hooting delight as he sent photos and reviews). And fiddled with "some way to make chicken interesting."

We laughed then, but let me tell you: My Man Make Fire very, very well. In a year, he has indeed turned into a Grill Master -- everything from steaks to ribs to fruit and vegetables and back again.

But the chicken. The chicken has a reputation all its own. It's made ridiculously picky eaters and true gourmands swoon. And the funny thing is: it's so simple.

We use boneless, skinless chicken breasts because they're easy, but you can use any chicken part (or heck -- poultry or maybe even firm fish?) that you like. Consider doubling or tripling the recipe -- it's great the next day and makes an unbeatable chicken salad with just a little mayonnaise, mustard, and a chopped celery stalk and/or scallion. Or you can dice up leftovers and sprinkle on many different soups.

The Brit's Famous Chicken

Serves 2-4, depending on how hungry you are

2 chicken breasts

1 cup mix of chopped fresh herbs, particularly parsley, marjoram, basil, tarragon -- "but whatever's available is OK"

1 whole lemon's rind, grated

Juice of the same lemon -- "pulp is good for extra lemonyness"

Equal amount of olive oil to lemon juice

About 1 tbsp. of mustard -- "dijon works, but a mix of brown and English is better"

Pinch of kosher salt

A few good grinds of pepper

Place everything except the chicken into a snap-top container. Shake well to combine. Add chicken breasts "and stab them with a fork several times on both sides." Shake again. Allow to marinate for at least 30 minutes "but an hour is better." Preheat grill during last 15 minutes of marinating.

Grill on medium-high direct heat about 6-7 minutes per side or until meat registers 155-160 degrees F. Pour any remaining marinade over chicken before flipping to second side to keep it moist.

When done, remove to clean plate and allow chicken to rest 10 minutes before serving.

Try this with:

• Roasted cauliflower: break head into florets and scatter on baking sheet; toss with 2-3 tbsp. olive oil, salt, pepper, and 3 good dashes cumin; roast for 20-25 minutes at 400 degrees, stirring once midway through roasting
• Grilled zucchini, garnished with a little parmesan cheese
• A simple salad or sauteed kale

Over and Under and Through

Recalibrate. It's what I try to do when Things Aren't Working the Way They're Supposed To. In other words, my motto of over 20 years: "You can bitch, or you can do."

Weighing in this week showed I lost 1.2 pounds, almost back to where I was before the Great Disappointment of August 8th. Better news, sure, but not good enough. After a rant and wail, I did some thinking:

• Have I been totally in line with no sugar/no flour? Theoretically, yes...but there was my birthday dinner. And my aunt's birthday dinner. And my grandma's birthday dinner. No kidding -- I have six close family members (including me) with birthdays in a 2.5 week period. Not to mention about eight friends' birthdays during the same stretch of time. HELLO LEOS!
• Eating out. That salad dressing seemed a little sweet...and I forgot to ask for it on the side, so of course ended up with drenched lettuce. The gravy...only a spoonful, but surely it contained flour. Splitting just one sushi roll is OK, right? Wrong.
• Booze. Allowing for a glass of wine, no problem. But four on a Saturday night? Even spaced over the course of many hours? Adds up, perhaps?
• Portion sizes? Snacking? Getting better, but still an issue due to habit. Or boredom. Or both.

And so, I recalibrate. I hold myself accountable. And I move back into the tried-and-true:

• Dear Diary: Today I had...a half-pound of ground beef for breakfast?! Sure, hunger kicked in big time after all-morning blood draw fasting, but who truly needs that much at one sitting? (NB: This meal was an honest one-off, but illustrative of what happens when I don't pay attention.) Keeping a food log helps me remember where I am in a day and holds me to a place of honesty. For people like me who can't grasp "don't eat unless you're hungry," it's also a way to remind yourself of what's gone into your body in the last few hours. Often that is enough to curb thoughts of more.
• Doing the Grams: 30 grams of carbs (minus fiber). 60-80g of protein. These are my daily goals. Not difficult, if you keep a diary that calculates as you go -- and shows you where you could cut back and/or make wiser choices in future, if you make an honest mistake.
• Remember the Good: Is my face more defined? (Yes.) Are my jeans loose? (Hell, yeah -- and my belt is on the second-to-last notch for the first time in two years.) Do I feel better overall? (Absolutely.) Maybe I need to focus more on this than a silly, slow-moving number on a scale.

I can be logical and do all of this and hope for the best. The struggle is truly mental. Mind over matter, especially when your matter doesn't want to help in the slightest. And patience is not your virtue.

What do you do to recalibrate or re-up yourself for the challenges ahead? What works and what are simply platitudes? I'd love to know some of your tricks.

Everybody Eats When They Come to My House

At The Hacienda, the beginning of football season is cause for merriment. Particularly after the nonsense of the NFL lockout, we couldn't help but have a few friends over for the first preseason game on Friday evening.

Between somewhat watching the game and exploring our bizarre selection of digital aerial UHF channels (no cable at our house!), I received one of the nicest compliments I've ever heard:

"I always love coming to your house, Stacey, because I know I'll laugh a lot."

I managed a thank you, then caught back a tear by chomping into a chicken wing. That's the whole point of our house: good people, a little ridiculousness, and a whole lot of hilarity. Oh, and plenty of food:

Truer words were never sung at The Hacienda.

For this impromptu gathering, I put together (read: picked up) a spread that most anyone could enjoy:

• Buffalo wings
• Stuffed sausage mushrooms
• Guacamole
• Crudités with ranch dip
• Cheeses and crackers (traditional crackers for some; flax crackers for us no wheaties)

Wine or beer flowed for some; others grabbed sodas or sparkling water. Either way, a snacky dinner with friends provides more than mere physical nourishment. You leave feeling content and full -- not because of the food, but because of the folks who choose to spend time with you. And that's something I never take for granted.

Linky-Loo: Tiny Kitchens and Big People

Links! Get yer hot links here! Mmmm...hot links...

Appearing on the Internet this week:

• Obesity Counseling Should Focus on Neurobehavioral Processes, Not Personal Choice: In other words, willpower is not the answer. Nice to see these ideas -- also discussing environmental cues and our "toxic food environment" -- out of Rush University Chicago.
• Does It Really Cost More to Buy Healthy Food?: In two words -- yes, usually. Our friend Dr. Nestle has an intriguing solution: move some of the corn/wheat/soy subsidies (the main reason why processed foods are so cheap) toward produce farmers.
• Got A Tiny Kitchen? Five Tips to Get the Most Out of Your Space: Hat tip to Twitter pal Penelope for this link -- great ideas, no matter the size of your kitchen. Though I will say: my inner New Yorker thinks her kitchen is actually normal-sized. Heh.
• How One Woman's Weight-Loss Story Went Awry: Ahhhh, the crossroads between body acceptance, health, and personal comfort. And then everyone else's opinions about your responsibilities to yourself -- or is it to society at (*ahem*) large? And why is it any of our business anyway? (Official stance: Go Team Jess.)
• There Is No Single Cause of (or Treatment for) Obesity: If I had more personal distance from the subject, this is exactly what I wanted to say on Thursday's post. I mean, this chart alone. I need a wallet-size printout of it so I can slap it on the table next time someone says to me "just eat less and move more!" Thanks to Paleo Periodical for the heads up on this one.

Wow. Lots of serious grumbling "arrrrgh!" theory, eh? You see where my head is this week. I'm hoping the weekend will turn it back to livelier, gobblier pursuits. Here's hoping.

Good Eats: Shrimp Chowder Deluxe

Next to Things in Jars (yes, I have a teeny weeny condiments-and-pickles obsession), Foods in Bowls are my favorite kitchen treats. Ask The Brit -- if we can possibly eat it out of a bowl, we do. Or at least I do.

I don't know why I love bowls so much -- maybe it's the idea that you can hug your food that much closer to you? Or you have a neat and tidy excuse for getting every last drop at the end (guilty!)?

So you can imagine my deep love of soup. Hot, cold, lukewarm, and oh-so-delicious day after. Soup IS good food, as they say; however, there's rarely a reason to serve it up fresh from the can. It's just so easy to make your own -- and a great way to be more resourceful about what's in your fridge and wallet.

I do make allowance for boxes of store-bought chicken broth or stock. Much as I love making my own, it's rare I have enough bones on hand to make the effort worthwhile. And then there's the issue of freezer space. Unless you have a separate deep-freeze and access to multiple carcasses, I hereby give you permission to buy boxed stock. Except for the one little recipe about to follow...

Shrimp Chowder Deluxe is a great beginner "I made this TOTALLY from scratch!" soup. Why deluxe? Because it's completely luxurious and light, yet takes almost no effort. And the best part is: you'll end up with enough shrimp stock to freeze a couple cups for next time. People will think you're Madame/Monsieur Fancy Pants Vivant when you mention casually, "Oh yes, I believe I have some homemade shrimp stock in here somewhere..." then whip up a meal for royalty in less than 15 minutes. Et voilà!

Shrimp Chowder Deluxe

Serves 4, plus leftover stock for the next batch

For the stock:

Approx. 8-9 oz. (1/2 pound-ish) of shrimp and/or lobster shells*

5-6 cups water

A big handful of leftover stems from various green herbs (parsley and dill are my favorites, but use what you have)

2 bay leaves

5-6 peppercorns

2-3 big pinches of kosher salt

2 cups total of roughly chopped onion, celery and carrot** (or "mirepoix" -- you can also get this mix pre-chopped and [gasp!] frozen, if you need to shave off a whole extra minute of prep)

Place everything except the vegetables in a dutch oven (or big pot) over medium-high heat. Bring to just below a boil, then turn down to simmer. Add vegetables. Stir and allow to simmer for 15-20 minutes. If foam rises to the top, skim it off -- but you don't have to be obsessive about getting every last bit. Carefully strain out and discard all solids, leaving just the liquid.

Measure out 4 cups of stock if proceeding with shrimp chowder recipe. Allow remaining stock to cool completely, then freeze unless using in the next 24 hours.

For the chowder:

2 tbsp. butter

1 cup total of small diced onion, celery and carrot

2 cloves garlic, minced

4 cups shrimp stock***

1 tbsp. Mrs. Bragg's Liquid Aminos (or low-sodium soy sauce, as an OK sub)

3/4 lb. peeled and deveined medium-sized shrimp (fresh or frozen, see below)

1/4 C. cream, or to taste

Salt and pepper

1 tbsp. chopped fresh tarragon (semi-optional, but it throws it over the top -- you can experiment with other green leafy herbs, too)

Rinse your Dutch oven or pot, if necessary. Melt butter over medium heat and add vegetables. Saute until soft and fragrant, adding garlic for last 30-60 seconds of cooking. Pour in stock and Mrs. Bragg's. Bring to simmer, then add shrimp and simmer for 2-5 minutes, depending on if your shrimp are raw or pre-cooked, fresh or frozen (I prefer raw as I think they soak up more flavor).

Add cream and tarragon and simmer for two more minutes. Adjust salt and pepper to taste and serve.

Delicious with Cheesy Crispbread (1-2 slices high-fiber crispbread, topped with melted cheese) as a dipper.

Next Day Idea: Shrimp Chowder Deluxe will keep in the fridge for 2-3 days. It's also delicious ice-cold. Lovely on a hot summer day.

* = This is why you should buy shell-on shrimp! They're paying you for this bonus. Next time you make a shrimp dish, just pop all shells/tails into a baggie and keep them in the freezer. It's crazy how much flavor is trapped in a little flimsy shrimp shell. Re: lobster shells, you can try asking your local fishmonger if they have a fresh, free shell or two in the back...you'd be surprised.

** = NOT A CARROT!! I know -- it's on the no-no list; however, the traditional bit in stock is not going to dash your plan to pieces. I personally hate carrots most of the time, so this use doesn't bother me; however, you can easily sub a red bell pepper for the carrot if it concerns you.

*** = You can sub chicken or vegetable stock if you must. Boost it with a little miso paste or clam juice, if you like. It's tasty, but not even in the same area code as this soup when made with shrimp stock. Please, just try making shrimp stock once. Three minutes of chucking stuff in a pot and 15 minutes of idle time make all the difference in the world. Angelic choirs may sing...

The numbers don't lie -- or do they?

In a week full of bottoms dropping out, it gives me no pleasure to say that there's one bottom on the rise.

That would be mine. I was up 1.5 pounds on Monday.

Logically (and, as you can see, it's taken me 72 hours to even discuss it), I tell myself: It's my cycle. I always gain 2-3 pounds of water weight per month that promptly vanishes once this week is over. It's not my fault. The true test will be what registers after this weekend. Blah blah blah.

I won't get into the "fat is a feminist issue" discussion (though it absolutely is). I won't get into the utter ridiculousness of allowing a number to determine your feeling of self-worth, even for a moment or two. I will, however, rant on misconceptions.

Reading through obesity theory and discussion, it's clear to me that a vast majority of people think fat is always caused by a diet filled with fast food, sugary soda, chips, candy, etc. The blatant offenders. For some folks, this may indeed be the problem -- though again, the deeper problem for low-income families is often calorie value per dollar (I promise I'll get into this at some point in the future.).

But what if you DON'T eat fast food, processed food, candy, soda, chips, etc. -- and still gain weight? Then what? Because that's my predicament. Ask anyone who knows me and they'll say I'm a pretty healthy eater. I love vegetables. I eat lean meats, salads and soups in normal portions. I shop organic/wild/grass-fed, etc. as much as possible because I'm privileged enough to make that choice. Hell, I love health food stores and will try just about any weirdo seaweed, exotic seasoning, or vegetarian strangeness you can throw at me. I'm a vinegar and salt girl, not a sweet tooth. And so on.

What happens when people's assumptions about you as a lazy pig just don't hold? And how frustrated am I (and, I suspect, many like me) when other folks eat whatever they want, whenever they want it, with little or no consequence.

No matter what I do -- and this includes everything from liquid diets to eating lower-carb -- pounds have never melted off this body. If I'm lucky, they creep away ounce by painful ounce, often with no rhyme or reason as to what has happened food-wise that week. I now know it's my hormones. I know it's also my thyroid and a combination of other factors, 75% of which are simply not my fault.

Perhaps you can eat cakes and ice cream and pasta galore. I'm thrilled for you -- and extremely jealous. But some of us can't. Genetics are truly half the battle. I'm undoing years of bad dietary advice, coupled with wonky hormones, insulin resistance, and a broken metabolism. For many of us, it's not just "eat less, move more." If only it were that simple...

And if only that stupid scale would show progress in the right direction come Monday morning.

Everybody loves a chart!

"Hey -- what's this?!" That's usually the first comment I hear when people come to our house and see my two-week meal planner taped to an otherwise blank* fridge.

This is generally quickly followed by "Oh, YUM! Can I eat with you guys on Wednesday?" or similar.

Welcome to the joys of meal planning. I know it sounds completely dorky, TOTALLY suburban, and perhaps a wee bit control freaky. If nothing else, it kills spontaneity. Bad, right?

WRONG.

Since keeping my two-week meal planner, our lives, tummies and bank accounts are so much happier. We do a big grocery shop once every two weeks, then supplement on the "off" week by simply picking up fresh produce. In and out in 10 minutes.

This from an avowed Brooklynite who used to live off late-night delivery. Life is crazy and work/family demanding. I get it. Hang with me here.

Dinner is now a snap, because we know what we're having each night -- and get to look forward to it all day long. Planning allows us to try those recipes we keep finding, then losing, then forgetting. Not anymore. We always make enough food for four people, so we have plenty of leftovers for breakfast and lunch the next day.

We choose to dine out two nights a week. This gives us plenty of spontaneous "what are you in the mood for?" choice and time to go out with friends and family. Swapping nights within a week? Why not? Especially on those tough days when I need sashimi, but it's Tuesday night. No problem. We go out Tuesday and have that night's planned meal on Wednesday. Simple.

The other benefit of meal planning is knowing what's in your refrigerator, freezer and pantry at all times. As I plan and look at each recipe, I make my shopping list based off what I need vs. what's already in stock. I'm super-planny, so I also keep a running list of potential future recipes, what's been really good, and what's in the freezer.

By the end of two weeks, our fridge tends to look somewhat empty (barring my love of Things in Jars) -- and that's the point. Use what you need, use it all, and no more. Hardly any food ever goes to waste, which is very important to me.

For example, last night we had garlic shrimp, spaghetti squash lasagna, and green salad. We specifically buy shell-on, U.S. wild shrimp. Why? Because all of those shrimp shells and tails make ridiculously tasty and quick stock -- for free. We saved every bit and threw it in a freezer bag already containing a lobster shell. I cannot WAIT for next Tuesday's shrimp chowder.

(In retrospect, I realize we should have saved and roasted the squash seeds. Ah well. Next time. Now if only I could figure out another use for the squash shell...)

You can see the plan in action here. You'll note each night of the week has a general theme. This is a GENIUS idea I got from the adorably perky Food Nanny. Once you have themes in place, it automatically makes it easy to pick recipes, rather than staring at a cookbook's table of contents thinking "OK, now what?"

This simple devotion of 30 minutes, twice a month, will repay you in a multitude of ways. Try it and see! Then tell me if it works for you.

As for me, I'm off to make a wee drinkie and marinate a flank steak for tonight's Thai Beef Salad. Mmm mmm good.

* = Non-magnetic surface, you see. About the only sad discovery we made upon buying this house (well, that and the fact that our boat of a car won't fit in the garage -- oops). Otherwise, my travel collection of silly magnets would provide a bit of camouflage for this big white sheet of paper.

Hormonal hmmmmm...

A delightful birthday dinner last night -- the chef's tasting menu! We had:

• A seared scallop on rattlesnake beans and venison sausage
• Radish sprouts salad in a sesame vinaigrette with carrot crisps on house-pulled mozzarella
• Crispy halibut with shrimps and a smoky, creamy sauce over one lobster ravioli
• Glazed beef on polenta with wild mushrooms and onions
• Creme brulee (with a candle on top!) for me; pound cake with honey cream for The Brit

Oh, and two slices of bread with dips to start. A glass of champagne and a glass of red wine, too.

Delicious, definitely -- and an experimental treat.

We returned to home around 10:30pm. On the way, I told The Brit how sleepy I felt. Granted, it had been a crazy day involving lots of non-air conditioned car travel. You see, our car's A/C is broken. In Phoenix. In August. Painful to consider, right? But regardless of that, a wave of "I'm tired NOW" hit me very fast and out of the blue. Possibly general exhaustion, but I also get this feeling any time I eat anything high sugar/carb. I hadn't felt it in at least a month...

At 12:30pm, the PMS cramps hit. HARD. This after thinking "hey, I haven't had my usual 7-10 days of painful nonsense!" yesterday. I'm due for PMS to be over tomorrow or Saturday. This is all very strange.

I woke up at least four times last night, needing to walk around or sit upright in order for the cramps to pass. Over-the-counter painkillers do not help, but I took some anyway. No dice.

This all has me to wondering: Is it complete, cyclical coincidence? Or could it be the big shot of sugar I ingested last night after next-to-nothing for a month -- and subsequent insulin surge -- kicked my prostaglandins and other hormones into gear?

If there is one thing I know after my years of working with endocrinologists, it's this: The hormonal system is completely interlinked and beyond delicate. You mess with one, you mess with the others. But is one meal enough to cause such painful consequences?

I am very logy today, but that could be the fact that I didn't sleep well last night. It could be the sugar getting out of my body. Or both. The Brit tells me he feels really tired today as well, despite fairly normal sleep.

I am not one to jump to a conclusion, particularly when other valid factors are in play. But it causes me to wonder...so I crave research. I'll have to look into this. When I have more energy.

Linky-Loo: Musings from Across the Internets

Today's my birthday! And as a present to myself, I'm letting other people do the work.

Here are a few stories that crossed my transom this week -- all of them fascinating and food (heh) for thought. Do they stir opinions? Let me know!

• Where Did the 2000 Calorie Diet Idea Come From?: Intriguing insight into the FDA process to determine 2000 calories as the "optimal" daily range. To my mind, Marion Nestle is a hero among dieticians, even if new science is starting to debunk the "calories in/calories out" dogma. I look forward to her next book with earnest -- it's sure to be a hot topic. By the by, "What To Eat" should be compulsory reading for anyone trying to feed a family, even (especially?) a family of one. Please check it out.
• Primal Travel: My buddy Juliann is guest blogging on the always excellent Paleo Periodical this week and has lots to say about best ways to travel when following a paleo/primal diet. Paleo is very similar to lower-carb in many ways, so this is great insight into how to not only stay on track, but make your fellow passengers VERY jealous of your snack kit!
• Still Counting Calories? Your Weight-Loss Plan May Be Outdated: Jane Brody of the New York Times discusses the latest Harvard University/Nurses Health study, published in the June New England Journal of Medicine. After observing almost 121,000 healthy adults, it turns out some calories may be better than others. Who knew?! Also -- and this should raise a big YAHOO! from any red-blooded American -- moderation and extreme exercise may be overrated. I've yet to read the full study, but look forward to doing so.
• Gyros Crawl: Dominic is quite possibly one of the best food guys out here in Phoenix and always tempts me with his adventures. This one, in particular, is a marvelous show of how good food doesn't have to be foo-foo-la or expensive. Just ask for no pita and you're set! (Disclaimer: I was supposed to accompany him on this crawl, but had to cancel last minute. Still despondent over this turn of events...and craving Z's Greek!)
• Sustainable Food Is Really Expensive, Writer Reports: Coming out of the "duh" category, a reporter at The Atlantic looks into the positioning, pricing, and class issues of obtaining higher quality, organic food. We can read the original article together -- sounds like it might be a bit dramatic (Fabergé eggs?!), but raises a good point re: class issues and food. Something I'm sure to write extensively about in the future.

For my birthday, The Brit got me a cherry/olive pitter AND a copy of Julia and Jacques: Cooking At Home. Does he know me, or what?! I can't wait to dive in and menu plan.

To all the other Leos out there, happy birthday! And to those of you who love us, thanks for putting up with our regal shenanigans.

N.B.: I'm having a guilt-free, special dinner out with The Brit tonight. Old-fashioned dessert may be consumed. I hope it has a candle on top.

What We're Gobbling These Days

Among friends, I've been pretty hush-hush about my new approach to food. After all, talking diets in public is boring. I'd rather focus on the yummy things I get to eat, rather than dwell on what's been put to the side.

The guidelines are really very simple. Here's what's in:

• All vegetables, except roots and tubers.
• Whole meats -- including seafood, poultry, beef, pork, etc. Processed meats (e.g., sausage, bacon, deli meat) can be OK for variety, but labels have to be carefully scrutinized for added sugar/starch. You'd be surprised.
• Eggs -- the whole egg. Not just the whites.
• Full-fat dairy -- including cheeses (hooray!!), butter, cream, sour cream.
• Condiments, herbs, oils, spices, beverages that don't contain sugar. Lots of label reading required here. Beware.

Here's what I can have in small quantities:

• BOOZE. I could be fancy and say "wine or spirits," but let's be real here. A drink a day, if I want. Maybe two on special occasions. Nothing sweet or with sugar, of course.
• Tomatoes, avocados, coconut, lemons, limes -- yes, they're fruit, but have much lower sugar content. A bit here and there makes the world go 'round.
• High-fiber crispbreads (up to two a day) and 100% wheat bran.
• A few nuts -- I keep this to a palmful a day, or else I'd eat the whole jar.
• Dark chocolate -- the 75% or higher kind, up to about 1/4 of a bar a day.
• Sucralose (Splenda), stevia, and aspartame (Nutrasweet), in very small quantities when necessary. For all my "eat real food!" mantra, I am not a martyr. Sugar-free cherry Jell-O is a godsend. As is the occasional Diet Dr. Pepper.

Here's what's out:

• Sugar, in its many forms and disguises.
• Fruit (except those listed above) -- for now. I plan to move fruit up to the "small quantities" list eventually.
• Beans and legumes -- these should move up eventually, too.
• Flour and grains -- yes, even whole grains.
• Low-fat anything, especially dairy. Hallelujah!
• Sugar alcohols, especially maltodextrin, malitol, xylitol, sorbitol, etc.

The Brit has been very supportive and is eating a similar diet. Since he does not have serious weight to lose -- maybe five pounds or so of "Welcome to America!" tummy is all -- he has more flexibility in his day-to-day. He eats a piece of fruit most afternoons for a snack. He's a regular squirrel with all the nuts and peanut butter he puts away. He might have a spoonful of rice or potato when we go out to eat. And he has four or five crispbreads daily instead of his beloved toast (the British practically invented toast, don't you know).

Weight-loss aside,* we've both noticed we feel much more satisfied, with much less need or urge to snack. We don't walk away from the table bloated or stuffed -- we eat what we want, then put away the rest for breakfast or lunch the next day. We eat very, very well, with lots of variety. We look at regular recipes and sort out how we can naturally twist them to our own. Leaving out sugar is simple. And think about it: most starchy sides (pasta, potato, rice, breads) are simply carriers, anyway. To boot, we have dessert a few times a week.

There are other benefits, too. Such as:

• Sleeping more soundly;
• Smoother energy and alertness throughout the day -- no 4pm slump!
• Better digestion and less gas (I said it -- there you go);
• A flatter mid-section;
• What seems to be a drastic reduction in severe PMS cramping, bloating, and crankiness. I'm observing this for the next few months, but if eating lower-carb solves my PMS issues alone, it is worth it.

I'll be heading in for blood work within the next week. I can't wait to see the results.

But enough of this jibber-jabber! WHAT DO WE EAT?!

How about this:

Chicken Puttanesca and Raw Kale Salad -- so delicious!

Note the delightful wine (Fumé Blanc), too.

Yes, this is a Monday night dinner.

And this:

Coconut Popsicles -- heaven on a stick.

Not exactly deprivation. Not even close.

These recipes are also very simple. I love to cook, but I'm not good with too much fussing. With rare exception, there's no need to spend more than 30-ish minutes actively cooking, not including oven time, when you do nothing but wait.

The Raw Kale Salad recipe can be found here (leave out the bread crumbs -- you won't miss them). Read on for the rest...

Chicken Puttanesca (Serves 2)

2 boneless chicken breasts, butterflied (or 4 cutlets) -- skin is OK!

2 tbsp. olive oil, divided

Salt and pepper

1 28-oz can whole peeled tomatoes (check for added sugar -- you just want tomatoes and juice)

3 cloves garlic, minced

1/4-1/2 tsp. red pepper flakes (to taste -- more is spicier)

1/4 cup finely chopped onion (use regular Spanish, white or yellow onions -- not sweet onions, like Vidalia or Walla Walla)

2-3 inch squirt of anchovy paste**

2 tbsp. small capers

1/4 cup chopped olives (green are traditional, but use what you like or have)

A bit of grated Parmesan cheese or chopped parsley, for optional garnishes

In a skillet, heat 1 tbsp. of olive oil over medium-high heat. Season cutlets on one side with salt and pepper. Place in skillet, seasoned side down, then season facing-up side. Saute until cooked through and golden on both sides. Remove to a clean plate.

While chicken sautes, drain tomatoes (save the juice for another use). Using kitchen scissors, snip the tomatoes inside the can until somewhat diced. This does not (and should not) need to be perfect. Theoretically, you can use pre-diced tomatoes, but they will turn to mush. Don't do it. Always buy whole tomatoes -- they're tastier and, oddly, cheaper.

Add remaining oil to same pan. Turn heat down to medium. Saute onions and garlic for a minute or until fragrant. Add red pepper flakes and saute for 30-60 seconds more, until onions are soft. Add tomatoes, anchovy paste, capers, olives and a pinch of salt. Stir to combine, then allow to simmer for about 10 minutes. The sauce will reduce and thicken.

Right before serving, pour any chicken juices into the sauce (yum) and plate the chicken. Spoon enough sauce over the chicken to cover generously. You will probably have leftover sauce, which is fantastic the next day.

Sprinkle with Parmesan and/or parsley, if you like, and serve.

Next Day Idea: I had a fantastic, two-minute breakfast the next morning of leftover kale salad, topped with two scrambled eggs and a spoonful of cold puttanesca. SO GOOD.

~*~

Coconut Popsicles (Makes 6)

Each of these has 3g carbs and they couldn't be simpler. The hard part is waiting for them to freeze. Texture-wise, the resulting pops are halfway between a traditional popsicle and ice cream.

1 can regular coconut milk (NOT "lite" -- also check to make sure no extra sugar is in your coconut milk)

2 tsp. real vanilla extract

1 tbsp. Sugar Free Vanilla Syrup (Torani or DaVinci brands are good)

Shake up your can of coconut milk very well before opening. Pour into a bowl with extract and syrup. Stir to combine. Pour into popsicle molds and pop (ha!) into freezer.

If your molds have those snap-on sticks, great. Just wait about 3-4 hours until they're frozen solid and you're good to go. If you have an old-fashioned topless mold like I do, cover the molds with plastic wrap and wait 90 minutes before sticking your sticks into each semi-frozen pop, then allow to freeze completely.

Obviously, this recipe is open for all sorts of experimentation. Try different extracts, spices and herbs. I tried using Sugar Free Cherry Syrup, but it didn't do much for me. Maybe other syrups would. Chop up an ounce of dark chocolate or nuts and stir them in, but make sure to keep in mind the additional carbs per pop. Let me know what popsicle dreams you create!

* = Weigh-in update: I'm down 2.6 pounds this week. That's 10 pounds total, more than I've lost in the last three years combined, despite all efforts.

** = Anchovy paste is totally where it's at. Buy one tube (usually in the pasta aisle, near the tomato pastes), throw it in the fridge, and you'll never have a "now what the heck do I do with the rest of this tin of anchovies?!" moment again. Of course, you can use a regular anchovy or two in place of the paste. And please don't tell me you hate anchovies. Do you like Caesar salad? Then you like anchovy paste. It adds a depth of flavor (not fishiness!) to this dish that you can't replicate otherwise. Give it a try!

Greedy Gobbler Redux: Now with MORE MEAT!

Well, hello again. Fancy seeing you here. You're terribly patient, and for that: THANK YOU.

I'm not going to go into the hows or whys re: my non-existent posts, except to say: Lack of inspiration. But now, the urge has returned. One including focus, always a helpful muse.

For the last three weeks, the Brit and I have been toying with a lower-carb diet. The reasons behind this are a mishmash of doctor warnings, extensive research, eye-opening science, and a last resort for me with a body that will not let go of weight when I stay on the Standard American Diet, no matter how little I eat or how much I exercise.

So far, I'm down 5.6 pounds. Hopefully a bit more, which I'll find out tomorrow on my weigh-in day. Even if half of it is water weight, this is nothing short of a miracle. Let's just say: underactive thyroid AND the start of insulin resistance = frustration.

My current food choices circle around meats, vegetables, cheese, a glass of wine, and nibbles of 75-82% dark chocolate. An occasional high-fiber bran cracker. Coffee, of course, but with the teeniest splash of cream -- it doesn't take much to get to the New York "dark" style coffee that I like. And if I'm being honest, a little bit of sucralose here and there when I need something sweet. I'm not thrilled about artificial sweeteners of any kind (even in my very occasional can of diet soda), but it's a way to have a little sweet, as opposed to an all-out NO for the foreseeable future.

Never give me an all-out NO. My brain will rebel in ways that I cannot physically control.

The first 36 hours were difficult, but not horrendous. I allowed myself a bite of banana here and half an apple there the first two days to allow my sugar levels to decrease gradually. The rest of the first week was a breeze. I felt great. I actually went to dance classes. And I lost almost four pounds.

Then Week Two. I'm not going to lie: it was horrific. Crankiness. Mean reds. Exhaustion like nothing I've ever experienced. The Brit's concern levels hit an all-time high -- he even suggested I call the pharmacy to make sure I didn't get a bad batch of thyroid medicine. By the end of the week, we decided a change of scene may help and scooted up to my (very generous) aunt and uncle's weekend home in Flagstaff. I'm still not sure if my symptoms were delayed hormonal/blood sugar adjustment, or just simple cabin fever and weariness of constant 110+ degree temperatures here in Phoenix. Probably both.

Regardless, four days in Flagstaff set me to rights -- and more importantly, I didn't give up on the diet. I even managed to squeeze in daily workouts while in the cool pines. We're now back home, finishing Week Three. My energy levels seem to have stabilized. I had a dinner party on Thursday night and managed a mostly low-carb menu that went over phenomenally well. The slight exception: grilled peaches with mascarpone, mint and toasted almonds for dessert -- and let me tell you, that was the MOST DELICIOUS half-a-peach EVER.

Tomorrow, the scale will tell me if I'm still on track to lose 1-2 pounds a week. But already: my jawline has more definition; my neck is tapering; and my upper abs are less poofy. I am not looking to be a sample size -- just back to my pre-thyroid problems "comfortable in my skin" weight. Regardless of weight, I also have the chance to step back from my genetic destiny and the type 2 diabetes hovering in my future. No sugar/grains (except on very special occasions) vs. pills and insulin...and then no sugar/grains EVER? I'll take the former, happily.

So for now: 30-35 grams of carbs per day. This allows me a cascade of vegetables, as well as the little treats (cheese, dark chocolate, wine) I need to stay sane. I look forward to the day I can add a bit of fruit back in, but that's temporarily on hold. And I'm OK with that sacrifice.

Tonight, we're having Chicken Puttanesca and a Raw Kale Salad (hold the bread crumbs). Coconut Popsicles for dessert -- if they turn out (I have high hopes and will share the recipe tomorrow if they do). Not bad for "diet food," eh?

Am I still a Greedy Gobbler? Absolutely! And I always will be. My new mission is to show it can be done -- happily and healthfully -- using me as the test object. Wish me luck. A little due karma. And lots of creamy treats along the way.

N.B.: At some point, I'll get more in-depth into the science and reasoning behind this decision. If you're curious now, however -- and want to be completely gobsmacked by what real research tells us about our bodies, as opposed to standard U.S. nutrition dogma -- I cannot recommend this book enough. Keep in mind that I am a public health advocate, with 12+ years of healthcare public relations under my belt -- and a master's degree in library/information science to boot. In other words, I can cut through bullshit and critically research the hell out of anything (and often do, much to my loved ones' collective annoyance). The Brit is a multi-degreed biomechanical engineer and very suspicious son-of-a-surgeon. We would not be making this change lightly, or without some serious, multi-layered scientific backup to the claims. Insulin, folks. It's almost all about insulin. And may actually be the core answer to our nation's (quite literal) ills. Time will tell.

Sunday Night Thoughts

I have the thought that, when people start a blog in this day and age, they have some thematic concept. An idea of time involved per week (if not per day) and a dedication to keeping this virtual thing alive.

I know. I give folks FAR too much credit. Including myself. Bear with me here.

Keeping a blog going -- even with the most lacksidaisical idea of theme -- is hard work. It nips at your back mind constantly. Because you (or I, as it were) feel like it should be a priority, or at least a commitment. To what, I don't know. But it's an exercise in discipline, right?

Clearly, Discipline and I have an ongoing standoff. Particularly when my day-to-day work has involved much writing as of late.

I feel I should have substance. Something that is useful, amusing, or at least enjoyable to my dozen or so readers. It's not enough to simply say: "Hey! I had a great Sunday! I started by going to a soon-to-be-favorite dive bar for a fabulous $3.50 breakfast. Then I played dress-up-doll with my sample size husband on his annual shopping trip. We followed that by picking up a dress or two for me, then had FAR too much fun refreshing ourselves at The Phoenician. We came home and made a fabulous grilled steak and veg salad for dinner while listening to old Casey Kasem Top 40 countdowns on our patio. Awesome!"

But that's about it. Life is really fun, even in its small moments. Something I have to remind myself constantly when some small niggling THING of no long-term consequence is bugging me at the back of my brain.

I asked this on my Twitter feed, but I ask you too: What do you do when your brain won't stop whirring? And for those of you with blogs, do you feel pressure to update on a regular basis, even if you feel your life is fun but...well, not necesssarily extraordinary? Or is it the perspective and -- dare I say it -- spin that make the regular bits shine?

Quickie: A Sweet Farewell

The Last Hurrah of the Spring Sweet Peas

Photo courtesy of Andrew Knowles

1-2-3 Project: Lavender Oil

I love creative projects, but I'm also not very good with choosing one hobby and sticking to it. I also have very little patience for dramatic learning curves (one of two major reasons why I've never quite understood knitting, crochet or how to play musical instruments), nor the space for a dedicated craft room.

Sound familiar? Is impatience a barrier to your creativity? Should it be? I say: "HELL, no!" I've learned to work around this temperament with "1-2-3 Projects," inspired little adventures that generally take few materials and less than an hour of hands-on work time, for the clever gal (or guy -- ain't no judgments here) on the go.

Our garden is a mishmash of planning and letting nature take its course. When we viewed what would become our house last October, the bricked-in garden beds were one of our first attractions. The layout is such that some beds receive direct sun, some mostly shade. That plus built-in drip irrigation sealed the deal -- here we would plan the herb, flower and vegetable garden of our apartment-bound Brooklyn dreams, desert conditions be damned!

But Arizona gardening will turn your head, your instincts, and -- if you're not careful -- your pocketbook inside out. In Phoenix, there are two short growing seasons each year. Very little of it (except citrus season, which falls between the growing seasons -- stay with me here) makes ANY logical sense to those from temperate zones. Planting calendars and charts are very popular in this town -- and you'll still scratch your head from time to time when you're doing things like...oh...planting tomatoes in January.

Being the impatient folks we are, we paid a gardener to help us clear our old beds, trim some plants, and get a few things going in our herb garden. In November. Which we found out is generally not the time to do such things as frost, believe it or not, is still very much a concern during desert winters.

This past winter turned particularly chilly, with two very late and extended frosts that led to many locals complaining about the bitter temperatures (boo hoo -- we got down to the upper 30s/lower 40s at night...I know, I know) and killed many hibiscus, bougainvillea, and other beautiful flowering plants around town. We ended up hacking back six gorgeous hibiscus bushes and all of the bougainvillea, most of which have rebounded in astonishing ways. Mere stumps only three months ago (and I truly gave them up for totally dead), the hibiscus around our house are perfect examples of Mother Nature gettin' down and kickin' some serious booty.

Despite tucking in the garden at night with blankies, sheets and lullabies, we lost quite a few plants. But we also discovered what would rebound and what you couldn't kill with a nuclear strike. It turns out Mediterranean plants and herbs (except basils) are very hardy -- and lucky for us, perfectly suited to the desert if you happen to have drip irrigation.

This spring -- and by "spring" we mean "February through April" out here -- four impressive, frost-resistant Spanish lavender bushes joined the blossoming orange trees and filled our backyard with color, scent and bees as other herbs started their season. Now at the end of May, most of the lavender heads have gone a greenish-gray, still full of scent but clearly at the end of their cycle and in desperate need of a trim to prevent them from crowding out the leafy herbs and tomatoes that are now coming into peak season.

Therefore, today's 1-2-3 Project: Lavender Oil! This one's a two-parter -- about 15 minutes in the first part and 15 minutes for the second part, about a week later.

You will need:

• About a quart of plain, good-for-your-skin oil. I grabbed a big bottle of sweet almond oil at the health food store and combined it with two smaller bottles of plain jojoba and Vitamin E oils I had sitting in the back of my medicine cabinet. Use up and combine what you have, so long as it isn't rancid. By the way, mineral ("baby") oil or anything else petroleum-based is not your best bet here.
• A clean, quart-sized mason jar, with tight fitting lid. By the way, I think mason jars are it. You can get a dozen of them for practically nothing at the grocery store and use them for so many things, including bargain drinking glasses. People will think you're totally hip and down-home when you're really just cheap and desperate for something to hold a large amount of booze for your pals. How about that!
• Two huge handfuls of fresh-cut lavender. Don't have lavender? What do you have in your garden that smells delicious? Mint? Rosemary? Sweet peas? Take a second and follow your instinct. Don't have a garden? How about using up those $4-per-package herbs that are wilting in your fridge and the cut flowers on your table? Recycling is fun.
• A high-speed blender or food processor. Or a really sharp knife and cutting surface will do.
• A chopstick or long-handled spoon, for stirring.
• A wire-mesh strainer, cheesecloth, a bowl, and a funnel, for final bottling.

1. Rinse your lavender (or herbs -- it's your show, tonight!) and gently pat dry so you don't crush the leaves and waste all the natural oils.
2. Throw the lavender into the blender or food processor with about 2/3 of the oil you plan to use. Whirr away until it's a fairly fragrant if ugly slurry. Alternatively, chop up your lavender into small bits, throw it in the jar with the oil, and proceed (FYI, you may need to let your oil sit longer than a week if you use this method).
3. Pour into your clean mason jar and add the remaining oil, making sure to leave about 1/4 inch of air at the top. Carefully stir to combine and tightly screw on the lid.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

1. Let sit in a cool, dark place for about a week -- or until the oil is the strength you like. Give it a little shake every day or so. Not strong enough? Let it sit (or add more lavender). Too strong? Hang on.*
2. Line your strainer with two layers of cheesecloth and place it over a bowl. Carefully pour the lavender oil slurry into the strainer and gently press it down to separate the oil from the lavender bits. You can also gather up the cheesecloth and wring it to get even more oil out. N.B.: you may want to do this in two batches.
3. Funnel the oil back into the rinsed out and dried mason jar, clean decorative bottles, or even the original bottles that the base oils came in (you saved those, right?) -- you can easily wash off the original stickers and slap on groovy new labels in their place. The perfect gift! Store in a cool, dark place to keep the oil fresh.

* = If the oil is too strong, dilute it with more of your base oil -- but go slow and add a bit (say a 1/4 cup) at a time, then let it sit for a day or two before deciding if it needs more dilution.

How can you use your lavender oil? All of the traditional bath and moisturizing uses, of course, but try these ideas:

• Place a few drops on a Kleenex or small cloth and tuck it into your bag or a drawer.
• Decant a tablespoon or so into a small bottle and take it with you on your next trip for a little pre-arrival pick-me-up.
• Fill a spray bottle about 1/8 full with the oil and the rest with distilled water, shake, and you have a refreshing linen and/or facial mist (keep it in the fridge during the summer -- chilly divinity!). You can also add a drop or two of your favorite essential oils to create custom blends.

How else would you use homemade lavender oil? I'd love to hear your ideas, too.

The Nerdtastic Thrill of Meal Planning

Those who know me -- and for those who plan to stick around, it will soon become painfully obvious -- accept that beneath my street smarts and Midwestern charm lie a huge nerd who loves nothing more than to sort, scheme and plan. It explains my seemingly opposite career paths to date: communications and librarian.

As evidence: This past Sunday, I happily spent four entire hours planning two weeks of dinners for the Brit and me, making a shopping list, and finding what deals I could to bring the total cost to a bearable level. Once complete, I triumphantly showed The Plan to the Brit and he...well, he humored me and at least said it all sounded "tasty enough" before returning to his latest fix-it project.

This Thursday afternoon, I've excitedly set aside time to re-sort the freezer and refrigerator. Not so much clean them (I don't clean. Much.), but just put like with like; toss anything that's starting to evolve independently; and make more lists! of what we have in stock so we can use it up.

This ongoing project thrills me no end. Perhaps because the last few weeks of my life have been chaotic due to outside obligations, this return to order is the aloe vera to my burnt adrenal gland. It's a place where I can say things truly are in their place -- where there is a comforting predictability and a moment of zen in the kitchen most every night to simply create. If only for the two of us.

(Did I mention I don't clean? That's the Brit's job and I'm forever grateful that he washes up so I can bask in the glow of that day's project without worrying about pesky real-life details like scrubbing.)

Tonight, blessedly without the usual dash-about, make-a-freakin'-decision, "Crap! We're out of...let's see...chicken?!", we dined on crunchy herbed parmesan chicken with sauteed greens and two dipping sauces. A glass of rosé. Mini brownie sundaes, too. On our patio, underneath oversized fairy lights, during a surprisingly cool late spring Arizona evening. And life was everything it should be: content.

Wandering in the Desert

Spring has beyond sprung here in Arizona. I suppose we have a leg up on everyone else since it's been in the 70s/80s since early March, but it's hard to complain when this is what your garden looks like with minimal upkeep:

Our herbs are also out of control, and we're picking strawberries out of a big container almost every day. Tomatoes are starting, but lettuces have had their day now that we're hitting consistent highs in the 90s. The growing season should last another month or so, then Desert Winter begins, when the intense heat beats all attempts at water and shade, gardens go brown, and we finally give in to central air conditioning. We'll be burrowing inside for a few weeks, but I'd rather hide from the heat and sun than from freezing temperatures and feet of snow.

Eighteen months in the desert and I've turned into a thin-blooded, cold-averse wuss. Yes, I know. You should hear me when it hits 50 degrees out here. Brrrrrrrrr!!!

There are other delights in the desert these days. The week began with 15 friends at The Hacienda to celebrate Passover seder -- or, to be precise, Shiksa Seder.

Twelve years ago, I started to miss celebrating Passover seder with my family, not to mention the annual scramble to find somewhere -- anywhere -- to attend a seder. So I started my own, with true Chosen People -- my NYC friends. What started as a small gathering grew over the years into Shiksa Seder (so called because, most years, I was the only Jewish person in attendance!) and the necessity of drawing guest names out of a hat because my Brooklyn apartment could only squeeze in 12 guests. Even that involved people literally climbing over furniture to get to their seats, but it somehow always worked out.

This year, we held the 11th Annual Shiksa Seder, this time for our new family in Phoenix. Fifteen guests shared our table and our tradition:

I love my seder plate. I made it at Sunday School in first grade. Since it was a gift for my parents, my teacher yelled at me for writing my last name on it. I still think my rationale holds: "But what if it gets lost at the factory? This way, they'll know where to send it!" The whole overplanning for any potential outcome? Clearly, I come by it naturally:

Without knowing it, our youngest guest carried on a subtradition of creative Four Questions asking. In past years, we've had the Four Questions delivered in Swedish, Gaelic, Spanish, puppet show and other languages. This year, Chris had "real live Jews!" record the full chanted version on his iPhone and played it for us when his big moment arrived. A big hit and a delight for my ears, which hadn't heard the chant in decades.

After much more questioning (and eating!), my favorite part of Shiksa Seder took place: the Afikoman Hunt. Usually, it's the kids who search the house for a piece of matzah, returning it for a ransom to the seder leader. In our house, it's a pack of tipsy adults tearing apart our front rooms looking for "a damn cracker." Our visiting guest from Boston, my Cherylina, found it hidden in a dictionary -- under the definition for "matzah," of course.

I adore seder and how traditions can live on, no matter where they take place. I love that our friends declare Cultural Exchange Week and invite us into their family days later for Easter dinner. Phoenix now feels like a home, thanks to matzah crumbs, a wine stain on the ceiling (I'm not asking), and good people who see no shame in wearing purple beanies, plague masks, and bunny ears. Just as it should be.

Originally published on April 27, 2011.

11.