The Amazing Adventures of Dietgirl

The End of Summer

Have you seen the tomatoes? Do you want to see the tomatoes? Come closer! Let me show you the tomatoes!

I'm hoping that this tomato hysteria means I'll get all the excess exuberance out of my system now, so if I ever become a parent I won't bore folks to death by shoving dozens of blurry photos of my shriveled offspring in their faces. Here it is sleeping. And here it is screaming. And here it is screaming from another angle. Here it is screaming with snot streaming out its nose. Isn't it stunning?

Seriously, the tomatoes are ace. They've turned the greenhouse into the jungle.

I can't believe we grew enough stuff to fill a bowl. I wish you could smell how good this smelled. Also shown: a few kickarse little chillies.

Five months of labour has produced approximately two punnets of cherry tomatoes. It may not be time and cost effective but it's been excellent learning something completely new. And the mind-blowing taste made it all worthwhile. If you think I'm exaggerating just ask Gareth. I think I've mentioned before in the six years I've known him he has only ever used three different phrases to positively describe anything in life: food, holidays, hot chicks, concerts, books, thrilling sporting events, etc:

1. Pretty good!
2. Not bad!
3. Alright!

But when he ate a tomato straight from the vine on the weekend he actually paused in his tracks and said, "Whoa. That is amazing."

!!!

Now summer is most definitely over and things are happening on the farm behind Cow Poo Manor. Namely, the complete destruction of the Cow Poo Pile!

Sunday morning:

Sunday afternoon:

Indeed the mound was not just for decoration. They ploughed it all into the fields once the hay had been harvested. Now they've put in something else (gee I'm down with the farmer chat). I spent Tuesday evening watching seagulls chase the tractor.

Sloth and Superfood Salad

I'm home alone this week so I'm relishing the chance to be slovenly. My friends bitch about sloppy man companions but I have the opposite scenario. Dr G, typical engineer, thrives on order and tidiness. Like on Sunday when I sloshed my cup of tea and a tiny wee splash landed on the coaster, the poor fella tsk-tsked and dashed off to the kitchen to fetch a cloth, despite my howl of protest, It's a COASTER! Let it do its JOB! Because there is no way he could sit down and enjoy his cuppa with that disorderly droplet taunting him.

Usually when Dr G goes away I plonk my bag in the hallway when I walk in the door, shed clothes all over the house and take a casual approach to dishwashing and bedmaking then clean up in a frenzy an hour before he returns. I am trying to overcome a long history of sloth which I've written about before but can't find the link... during winter I'd iron just the collar and one sleeve of my school shirts then carefully hang them in the wardrobe, so when The Mothership opened the door for a spot check it'd look like I'd done my chores. You can imagine the pitch and boom of the famous schoolteacher voice when she finally rumbled that one!

Another thing I do when Dr G is away is eat lots of lazy salads. He likes healthy food but kind of gets a haunted Is This It look when it's only green things. Hehe. Last night included green lentils, feta and cherry tomatoes but I totally overdid the dijon mustard in the dressing. I couldn't stop snorting as I watched Scotland's Andy Murray go to five sets Wimbledon.

Tonight I made Leon's Superfood Salad which I'd had on my To Cook list for two years. The main ingredients: quinoa, broccoli, cucumber, alfalfa sprouts, mint, parsley, peas, sunflower seeds and avocado that I neglected to buy so substituted chives which is no substitute really but it was the right colour. Oh and our old friend feta. Then lemon and olive oil dressing to tie the room together. So bloody tasty! Even better than the one I ate at the Leon in Carnaby Street years ago, no doubt coz I was about 300% less stingy with the feta.

Serve with a glass of water
and an idiot-filled episode of Property Snakes And Ladders

Hoping to get back to some regular witterings; everything's been a little crazy and busy. Hope you guys are doing well out there?!

Freshly Baked

This weekend at Cow Poo Manor: a fresh delivery...

 

... accompanied by a strong breeze which wafted right through our kitchen window. It was just the ticket for a hangover.

(ETA: The Pile is about 300 metres from the house - this was the first time I'd ever caught a whiff!)

I read an interview with Matt Lucas of Little Britain fame where he said, "If I never drank alcohol again I wouldn’t be in the least bothered... You could be spending your money on crisps, couldn’t you?"

I feel exactly the same about booze. And yet I ended up quietly rat-arsed on vodka when I met the lovely former House of Sport colleagues on Friday night (if any of you are out there, HELLO! It was rockin to see you). I got home just as Gareth arrived back from a thrash metal gig. He said he was hungry so I said, "I KNOW, chips and curry sauce!"

Next thing it's 2AM and we're watching Twenty20 Cricket highlights and I'm waxing lyrical about how good chips and curry sauce and fried rice are together; how I was a fool to mock Gareth for the combination all those years ago; how the nubbly texture of the rice balanced the slop of the sauce; how it was oh so wrong but somehow right... this is why I don't drink very often; it always leads to trouble.

Then Saturday 1PM; finally functional enough to make some vegetarian sausage rolls...

Whoops, conjoined.

Tastes amazingly sausage-like but no animal parts here whatsoever... just nuts, oats, herbs, breadcrumbs, etc - recipe here at Green Gourmet Giraffe. Best sausage roll ever! Aside from Cornucopia Bakery in Braddon, Australian Capital Territory, OZ.

Next up: stumbling around garden, giddy at first sign of actual tomatoes.

Currently the size of your pinky fingernail!

Also a sudden glut of roses out front that we have no idea how to look after, in the most daggy coral colour that reminds me of old ladies I have known. 

 

Then we headed off to Carnoustie to see more good friends and their herd of children and dog. Went for a walk and got chased by frothing German Shepherds. Then curry - proper; not the drunken chip kind. Then almost falling asleep into a glass of wine.

Today, a kayaking party at the lake for two of the kids' birthday. I didn't partake because I cannot kayak for shit. I know you have to do it more than once to improve but I choose not to improve with ten eight-year-olds as witnesses!

Then we had a BBQ. Then the kidlets toasted marshmallows and when they ran out of marshmallows they just toasted anything they could find. So here we have a delightful fusion on a stick: strawberry, cherry tomato, cocktail pork sausage and a Terry's Chocolate Orange segment.

Now salad and leftover snag roll then BED. Hope you all had a good weekend!

Salad Days

Less than four weeks ago these little green whippernsnappers were floppy and uninspired. And planted really crookedly by some flaming amateur.

Despite their snug quarters and my long history of killing plants, they're actually doing pretty well now!

 

So are the herbs, despite repeated attacks.

The rocket plants were reduced to shreds by the same boofheaded creature but after a week in the greenhouse ICU, they were back from the brink!

NB: Rocket means arugula in the American language. Rocket is also a Scots word for a crazy person. Try it on your friends today, ya mad rockets!

The greenhouse also features a random pile o bubble wrap and this stunning portrait of Urquhart Castle.

This flower has nothing to do with our efforts, it just appeared on Friday. It's a biggun. Does anyone know what it is?

Today I finally chopped down some salad. That is once I'd removed the stray feathers and dodged the leaves anointed with pheasant crap. But there was plenty of goodness left. Oh YEAH... it was tasty! And the rocket was the most peppery and delicious I'd ever eaten. Much better than paying 99p for a withered bag of supermarket stuff. I go through about three bags of various salad leaves a week so this is GREEN GOLD, baby!

Six in Scotland

Six years ago today I left Australia for sunny Scotland!

Leading up to our depature I grumbled, "If one more person tells me how they gained so much weight while living overseas, I will punch them in the face. If I'm to believe what I'm told, it rains pure beer in Edinburgh and the streets are paved with lard."

Well I can now say with certainty that you can lose and gain weight on any side of the world you fancy; lard is not discriminating! I've stacked it on Scotland and taken it back off. I've lost weight in Oz then gained 6 kilos on my three week visit in 2005. You can do it anywhere if you put your mind to it!

Almond Butter Hunt

Does anyone know of good purveyors of almond butter in the UK?

I bought three jars of Trader Joe's Crunchy Unsalted back in my suitcase from NYC and I'm onto the second jar already! I'm rationing it carefully but dreading the day when it's gone.

I could grind my own again but the little food processor would probably explode from the strain. The UK brands I've tried (Meridian, Biona) have a grainy, uninspired texture but the Trader Joes has fantastic stabby chunks of almond in it. God bless America. Sniff sniff.

Scones, tea and AOL

Good morning AOL.com visitors - thank you for dropping by!

If you're not sure where to click first, you could peek inside my book The Amazing Adventures of Dietgirl right here, watch me yabbering on about my lard-busting efforts on CBS The Early Show or check out some of my alleged best entries.

I've been in London this weekend, visiting my sister for her birthday. She had a gift voucher for afternoon tea at the very posh Dorchester Hotel. Unlike the snotty lady at the table beside us, I did not sigh and say airily, "I really just don't get hungry in the afternoons" when presented with French pastries and fresh scones with jam and clotted cream.

Why spend £40 on AFTERNOON TEA if you don't like to bloody eat in the afternoon? Sure I should probably walk home to Scotland to burn off the calories but life is for living! Nothing wrong with a little of what you fancy. Mmmm, macaron.

Green News

1. I passed my Green Belt grading at kickboxing yesterday! It was hell! Sweet, punchy hell. It hurts to type now. I managed to screw up the bits that I'd been feeling confident about, and do well at the things I was worried about, which meant it all evened out nicely. Woohoo!
   
   Somehow in the sparring I managed to kick my opponent with my big toe, despite the gigantic padded Mickey Mouse shoes. It bent back very painfully. I still suck at sparring, but otherwise I'm on a total high and amazed at the power of the human brain to learn stuff. A few weeks ago I was chucking tantrums trying to do a spin kick but I managed six in a row yesterday. If only I could apply my kickboxing dedication to other aspects of my life I would be unstoppable. Limping and quite ineffectual in a dark alley... but otherwise unstoppable.
     
2. In other Green developments, last week I made The Best Broccoli Of Your Life, an Ina Garten recipe as seen on the Amateur Gourmet. People are so free and easy with superlatives these days... how many volumes of those Greatest Rock Album In The World... EVER! albums did they bring out in the 90s? But this easy recipe truly awesomizes broccoli - oven roasted with garlic then lashed with lemon zest and juice and a wee bit of Parmesan. The original calls for lots of olive oil but I only used a dribble and accidentally forgot the basil and pine nuts but it was still brilliant. Even Gareth who has just three adjectives to describe anything in this world (Not Bad, Pretty Good or Alright) went cuckoo. I cooked almost two pounds of broccoli and we guzzled the lot of it. Oh it was lick-the-bowl good. Let me know if you try it! Come join the broccoli cult!
   
   Warning: I know I said in the last entry that there's no need to worry; that your digestive system adjusts to a vegetarian diet. However, if you have never consumed a pound of broccoli in a oner before, you can expect the only thing you'll give your partner on Valentine's Day is the Gift of Fragrance.

How to eat less meat

There's been a glut of vegetarian questions lately...

(Edit: Well there WAS a glut of questions, back in freakin' May 2008 when I started writing this entry. Slackarse! I'm determined to finish today!)

... You've shacked up with one, you want to be one, you want to be a part-time one, or you just want to beat gas prices and find out if you can propel yourself to the office with your very own wind power.

Whatever your reasons for wanting to eat less/no meat - economical, ethical, environmental - your questions were about how to put that desire into practice:

• how do I change my diet?
• how do I make non-meat meals tasty and satisfying?
• what do I do with all those beans? 
• what about the FARTING?

As always I can only offer my own experiences and hope you might find something helpful there. Also, in the eons that have passed since I started this entry, I've noticed lots of bloggers talking about decreasing their meat consumption - so if anyone out there has some tips, feel free to join in!

I grew up on a farm where it was blasphemy not to eat meat every night. There was always half a cow in our freezer at least. I only knew one vegetarian, the lovely Carrie. We gave her a lot of hell about it at school. There was a range of vegetarian products in Australia that were all called Not-something. Not Burgers. Not Bacon. Not Dogs. Every time the poor girl grilled one up for lunch we'd all cackle, "How's your Not Burger?... NOT BAD?"

My meat consumption decreased sharply when I moved to Scotland, firstly for financial reasons. Then I hooked up with Vegetarian Gareth and when I moved in with him, he insisted I shouldn't change my diet on his account. But I found it more practical to cook one meal and enjoyed the culinary challenge. I also liked how vegetarian cooking usually resulted in less skanky pots to clean!

These days I treat meat and fish like I do chocolate  - they're Sometimes foods. I go for the best quality I can afford and try to be mindful of sustainability and origin and all that stuff.

So here's the step-by-step meat-reducing process I went through:

Crumbs

I can't wait to tell my sister Rhiannon that there's a chain of bakeries over here called Crumbs. Back when we were kids we used to play Barbies, as you do. The Barbies lived in a dinky dollhouse with doors that only came up to their waists.

But the fact that the Barbies had to crawl around their own house did not stop them pursuing their dreams. They didn't just lie in bed tangled up with Ken all day; these dames were entrepreneurs. They turned the kitchen into a restaurant and it was called Crumbs.

It was a fine establishment. It even had an elevator made out of string and an Avon perfume box. I lived vicariously through the whole operation - the Barbies could cook and eat whatever they wanted. If they whined about being hungry, nobody rolled their eyes and said, "Just have an apple!"

Rhi and I had big plans for Crumbs and the Barbies. They were going to expand overseas, Crumbs International. They would move from the tiny dollhouse to a swanky skyscraper. But that was 1985 and now some bastards have beat us to it!

I bought one of their red velvet cupcakes today. It wasn't a cup so much as a behemoth pint glass of a cake. I've gotta hand it to Crumbs - they may not have flowing blonde tresses and plastic legs up to their armpits, but they make a tasty cupcake!

It looked really pretty too, until I squashed it my bag.

Troutin' About

I fear we're going to have to abandon the house. Pack up our suitcases and just live in the car. Not because we're drowning in bills and mortgages, but because the place stinks to bloody high heaven.

I innocently pan-fried a trout fillet on Wednesday night and now you can barely breathe for the fish fug.

I scrubbed the pan clean. I took out the rubbish that contained the fish wrappings. I doused every room with air freshener and Febreeze whilst singing, Trout! Trout! Let it all out! But that just made it smell like fishy flowers. So we left the windows wide open all night long... yet the stench persisted, more evil than before.

I've been pseudo-vegetarian for a few years now - I usually reserve meat for when we dine out - so it's been yonks since I cooked fish. Have I forgotten some crucial information? Has fish always been this stinky? Is trout a particularly pungent specimen? Is it because I pan-fried it - would it have been less brutal had I given it a gentle grilling?

"Maybe the fish wasn't fresh," Gareth said as we lay awake and shivering in our oxygen masks last night.

"It was fresh! It was bloody tasty."

"Are you sure it wasn't bad? You haven't had the squits, have you?"

"THE SQUITS? I never want to hear you say that word again!"

"It's a great word! It's one of those words that sounds like its meaning."

"It's onomatopoeic."

"That's what I said."

When I left the house this morning the icy wind rattled through the hallway and I thought perhaps it was getting a little better. But I've just received a text from Gareth: I'm freezing here and it still smells like trout!

I was just trying to get in some Omega-3's, dammit. I'm sticking to sunflower seeds from now on.

Dinners with Bloggers

I did some quality blognobbing while in New York. Meeting bloggers always turns out to be the highlight of my travels. Aye, even better than the food!

When I started blogging in 2000 people would gasp in horror if you mentioned meeting Internet Folk. Axe murderers! Unwashed nerds! But now everyone spews their guts online so it's cool.

Gareth has come to enjoy tagging along, too. We rock up to our destination and he says with infinite patience, "Any appointments? What stranger are we dining with this evening?"

Seems Brooklyn is where the bloggers are at; we spent half our time over there. On our second night we met up with Pamela in Park Slope. We've been blog buddies for yonks and finally met at BlogHer last year, so I was dead chuffed to see her again.

We started off with a spot of neighbourhood window shopping. I fell in love with a robot sculpture in a hipster boutique - it had a ye olde box camera for a body and flash bulbs for eyes. But it was $600, dammit. We also rummaged through vintage clothing shops, in which I realised I'd need to drop at least another twenty pounds for vintage clothing to be really viable. Then I decided I couldn't be arsed and would just have to stick to H&M.

The Oldest Trick in the Book

Dear Makers of Twix,

I consider myself to be a smart consumer and not one to be sucked into your marketing japes but today you got me good.

It was 11AM and I was twitching with the need for chocolate. I went downstairs to the vending machine in search of a small hit.

The Twix was singing to me -  one because it's on my Totally Worth It list and two because the number on the label caught my eye - 142 calories. BARGAIN!

"Dudes! Did you know a Twix only has 142 calories?" I announced to my colleagues moments later through a spray of biscuity crumbs. "Rather economical for two fingers of chococaramel joy! Who woulda thought?"

NB: We're not saddo office cliches who sit around obsessing about diets and thighs and whatnot, but at least seventeen times a week you will hear the phrase, You know, I am totally gagging for a chocolate. So the news of the reasonable-caloried Twix was well received!

Later on I was filling in my online food journal thingo and looked up Twix and it said 284 calories. What the hell? Then I realised it was 142 calories per 28 grams... that is, 142 calories PER BLOODY FINGER.

I can't believe I fell for the oldest trick in the food packaging book: the Per Serve Nutritional Information. I'm known as the grizzled diet veteran with the nerdy blog but now I've made a dick of myself crowing to the comrades, EAT UP KIDS! Get your chocolate hit here!

I bet you have hidden cameras installed in the venue machine and you watch us from your sugar-scented headquarters, lipreading our delight, Wow only 142 calories! Then you pump your corporate fists and cackle as another sucker shoves in their 50p.

It's not that I give a rats how many calories are in your Twix; it was a tasty diversion. I'm boycotting your product purely because you reeled me in with your shiny wrapper and made me feel compelled to prattle on about it like a tit.

The boycott is going to last at least two days. So there!

Sincerely,
Dimwit of Dunfermline

Recipe Corner: Spinach & Feta Frittata

Depending which definition you choose, you could call this recipe a frittata, a tortilla or a Spanish omelette. After my mathematical debacle in the last entry I'm unwilling to commit to an answer. Hehehe.

In this household it has been known variously as:

• There's A Vegetarian At My Table WTF Should I Do
• I'm Too Lazy To Cook But Realistically This Is Quicker Than Getting A Takeaway
• Refrigerator Graveyard In A Pan

Reason for today's culinary diversion: I found this Leftover Recipe Competition on Weight Loss Resources. I raided the fridge for the most shriveled ingredients and got all geeked up to enter. But then realised that might be a bit dodgy, since they kindly pimped the heck out of my book. So I thought I'd share it here instead.

Like everything I cook this is stupidly easy and awfully vague. It's one many reasons my food blog venture failed a few years back - I felt silly adding half-arsed primary school recipes to the blogosphere while other folks did precision flambéed goat trotters and Peruvian gooseberry parfaits.

Step 1 - Take some Spuds of Yesteryear
... that is, some leftover cooked potatoes, or the skanky raw potatoes lurking in your cupboard with seventeen eyes each. I had about 500 grams/1lb of new potatoes, so I removed the eyes, sliced em up then microwaved until juuuust tender.

If you're a member of the Potatoes Are Evil OOGA BOOGA camp, chunks of other firm veggies work well, like sweet potato or butternut squash.

Step 2 - Get yer non-starchy veggies ready
First, something oniony - leeks, spring onions or even... ONIONS. In this case half an onion leftover from pita pizzas the night before.

Second, something colourful and worthy. Asparagus or artichoke hearts are dead tasty, but here we have two handfuls of near-death English spinach. Most of it had turned to pulp in the bottom of the Tupperware container but these leaves were salvagable.

Step 3 - Heat a tablespoon of olive oil in a nice round pan with a handle (ETA: I have the hotplate on the highest heat, but our stove is utterly rubbish. If you've got a decent one I'd probably go with a medium heat so you don't burn the eggs later on).

Sauté your onion, then add the tatties. Gently stir now and then so they get a nice golden colour but don't break up. This takes at least ten minutes on my shithouse stovetop but I hope you get a swifter response!

Step 4 - Meanwhile crack some eggs into a bowl. I used half a dozen - the amount of eggs of course depends on how many veggies you've got, how many mouths you're feeding, and/or how many eggs are left in the carton. Season with some dried chili flakes and black pepper then whisk to combine. You don't need any salt.

Step 5 - Once the spuds are done, add the spinach then carefully stir until it wilts. Again, you don't want to bust your spuds.

Step 6 - Make sure the veggie mixture is spaced out evenly over the pan, then pour over the egg mixture. Kinda smooth and poke at the whole thing with wooden spoon to make sure the egg gets between the gaps and you get a relatively even surface.

Let it cook for awhile you get preheat your grill. Is that a broiler to Americans? It's that thing with the heat that you slide things beneath in order to get them nice and toasty.

Step 7 - Once it's started to cook around the edges, I plop on about 150 grams/5oz feta cheese or similar strong and crumbly cheese. I used Wensleydale once and it was nae bad. You could be virtuous and skip the cheese altogether but... BORRRRRRING!

Step 8 - I don't know exactly how long you cook this on the stove before you whack it under the grill. Usually its about five minutes, til the edges are looking cooked and it doesn't move much when you shoogle the pan, but there's still eggy liquid around.

Anyway, whop it under the grill for about five minutes until the eggy bits look puffy and the feta looks lovely and golden.

Step 9 - Let it rest for at least ten minutes, otherwise it's too hot for you to truly appreciate the full flavour of the tasty, tasty feta.

Actually don't let it rest too long or you'll start picking off chunks of tasty, tasty feta and then you'll have to shame-facedly serve up it up to your friends with big feta dents in it.

Nice with a wee salad - here we have mixed leaves, cherry tomatoes, cucumber, red pepper and strawberries.

Also very tasty eaten cold the next day, but a little dull if you've picked off all the cheese!

For the nerds: Serves 4. 338 calories per serve. Click for details!

Astounding Feats of Arithmetic

The Scottish Government is running a campaign for a healthier nation called Take Life On. Billboard sayz: change your life by swapping plate of flaccid chips for plate of pasta.

Some folks will get all snobby about it and suggest refined white pasta with a token blob of tomato goo isn't particularly nutritious. Then there's the billboard with a beer on it, imploring you try one night per week without a pint. But the campaign is all about the value of small changes adding up to a healthier you and I'm all for that. You gotta start somewhere, says she who once Drove Thru four times a week.

Must say though, first time I walked past that billboard I thought, "Ooh. Quite fancy chips for my dinner." I've been living here too long!

. . .

100 PushUps Update

Good news: I can now do 12 consecutive proper push-ups! (started out at 3)

Slightly crappy news: I needed to do 16 in order to progress to Week 3. FAIL!

Now I have to repeat Week 2, which had already taken 3.5 weeks to complete. At this rate I will be the World's Oldest Blogger by the time I get to 100.  But my goal for six weeks was to get to 20, so I'm on my way to being able to respond if someone barks, "drop and give me twenty!"

Well... at this stage I'm only any good if conditions are perfect - properly hydrated, well rested, no kickboxing class the night before, not in a bad mood, etc. One day I'll work up to a Spontaneous Show-off level of pushup prowess and I'll drop to the floor in supermarket queues just because I can.

. . .

Any mathemagicians out there? Dr G and I have been having a heated debate about my push up statistics, namely by what percentage I have increased my ability. Could do 3, can now do 12. One of us says 300%, the other 400%. We'veve been sitting here scratching our heads for an embarrassingly long time!

Our excuse is that it's 1AM and we also had a very very late Friday night. Actually Gareth has that PhD so he really has no excuse at all. I am so brain dead that I just asked him, "Is magician spelled with a J?"

Shauna used to be able to do just 3 push-ups, but can now do 12.
By what % has her push-up ability increased?
300%
400%
I'm not going to dignify that with a response,
you pair of numpties!

Free web polls

Bubble and Squeak

Tonight I went to my pal V's house to practice kickboxing in her back yard. When she called up with the invitation I automatically said, I caaaan't. But then I remembered - no Moonwalking, no DIY... I'm free! I'm freeeeee! I dropped to my knees, Tim Robbins in Shawshank style.

We were joined by fellow kickboxing fiend H, and the three of us literally kicked each others arses in the fading light while Max the Dog growled at nothing in particular.

The love affair with kickboxing grows hotter every day. I'm clobbering people in my dreams. I've added in another class too, more advanced and full of intimidating fighter chicks. But it's like what Gareth says to me when I don't want to order in restaurants because I worry they won't understand my accent, "It's good for your development!"

. . .

Things that don't make much sense

#1 - How I can persuade myself to go for walks lasting up to eight consecutive hours, yet at the end of every working day I struggle to walk eight seconds to the kitchen to wash my revolting coffee mug.

#2 - How I have a website with my weight posted on it and a book with my weight written in it, yet I run away screaming when invited to a WiiFit Gathering because I don't want everyone seeing my BMI.

. . .

Dudes, we have CARPET! After bare chipboard for nine months, every step now feels like we're bouncing on the moon. It's added a pleasant dimension to the 100 PushUps Challenge; it smells fantastic when I collapse to the deck. Only downside is I have to re-learn how to be cautious with wine and beetroot.

We also have a COUCH! Although I kind of miss the fold-up camping chairs, the way they make you stink like an Arbroath Smokie.

. . .

I also unpacked the new scanner that we've had for three months, which means I've finally scanned my List of Dinners as some folks kindly requested. You'll see it's a total dog's breakfast but it's purely designed to jog my memory when doing the weekly meal planning, because I always forget what the options are.

Note: "Dr. G Soup" is a recipe that Gareth devised. I haven't chopped him up and turned him into soup.

. . .

Rhiannon and I were in the queue at H&M yesterday when a girl came over and asked politely, "Are you Shauna Reid?"

I tell you what, my heart hammered ninety to the dozen. Have I stolen something by mistake? Have I parked illegally? But I don't even have a car!

Then she said, "I read your blog!" My face burned and words deserted me and I think I might have said something really stupid. But I did manage ask the lovely lass her name. It was Sarah and she said she has a blog too.

HELLO Sarah, if you're out there! Thank you for saying hi! I'm sorry for being a gibbering fool. I was just a wee bit embarrassed because I knew when you came over I had truly slovenly posture and a surly I Am So Over This Shopping Trip expression. If I'd been more organised I would have been doing bicep curls with those 6-pack socks they always have at the checkouts, to be more inspirational blogger-like!

What I Eat

Recently my gurning ginger mug appeared in the Washington Post, along with Deborah of Drop The Fork and Gerry of Disease Proof. Gerry contacted us afterwards asked if we'd fancy tracking our food and exercise for a week, to show what three different weight loss maintainers put away.

I hesitated before accepting his invitation. "What do you eat on a typical day?" is one of my most frequent of FAQs but it's always made me feel a little uncomfortable, because I don't really have a typical day and I'd hate for anyone to think it was any sort of blueprint for health. It all depends on what's in the cupboard, cravings du jour, level of fatigue/crankiness, etc.

I also know what I used to be like - trawling blogs and old copies of Slimming magazine for What Successful Losers Eat, seeking patterns and clues; as if searching for the Da Vinci Menu Plan that would unlock all the diet secrets of the universe. I can imagine me analysing my journal:

ME OF 2001:   She ate all that food?! And salmon two nights in a row? Chinese takeaway!? White basmati rice?

ME OF 2008:  [defensive screech] We'd run out of brown rice! I was desperate! The takeaway was Gareth's idea!*

[Cat fight]

(* Last Thursday night after measuring a couch at Steve's house [long story]  Gareth said unto me, "You know how you wrote that blog entry about being tired and hungry and convincing each other to eat dodgy dinners?" then I said, "Chinese takeaway. Woohoo!")

I'd hoped to be healthy and holy all week long, especially knowing there's at least two nutritionists reading this blog. But the end result was more realistic, honest and typical of how I eat -- mostly because I kept forgetting I'd be broadcasting my food intake until  after I'd wedged the spring roll/carrot cake into my mouth.

(I also kept forgetting to photograph my meals until it was too late. My sole contribution was a plate of lentil and tomato goo. Sorry for letting the team down, Gerry!)

So what can you tell from a week's worth of food? It's a snapshot in time. You can't see that the day before we started journaling, I walked up a big hill then scoffed fish, chips and mushy peas afterwards. You can't see that the day after we finished, I was lazy and ate a dozen shriveled almonds for brekkie.

However, it's a reasonable picture of how eat so I can feel:

• satisfied
• not enslaved to the stove
• fueled for exercise
• confident that I'll keep fitting into my clothes
• Balanced and SANE!

Other highly scientific conclusions from this experiment:

• There is tea running through my veins instead of blood
• If not tea, then plain yogurt
• Some days I am a beacon of virtue, some days I'm the opposite
• I eat a helluva lot of beans and lentils
• I am not bothered by repetition in my diet
• I am not bothered by repetition in my diet
• I! Love! Chocolate!

You can check out all three food journals on Disease Proof.

Going Solo

Do you think it's easier to stick with healthy eating when you're on your own, or with a partner?

(or sibling, housemate, etc)

I have pondered this one many times, especially since shacking up with the Scotsman. There are advantages and disadvantages with both...

Group Effort
Pros

• Somebody to share the cooking and cleaning
  I tend to do most of the cooking and Dr G does the cleaning up. It works for us - he chops vegetables too slowly for my liking; I leave too many "bits" on the dishes for his liking.
• Not wanting to look like a greedy lard arse
  Gareth doesn't pass judgement on what I eat, but I still feel less inclined to scarf down a third chocolate biscuit if there's other people around.

Cons

• Persuasion
  Despite my diligent menu planning, if either of us is tired or grumpy it can take very little cajoling to ditch the Plan and have cheese on toast or a takeaway.
• I'll have what he's having
  Gareth likes a quiet beer and a bag of crisps some evenings, and even though I'm not a beer and crisp person, I feel compelled to eat something just because he is. So there.
  
• Man Portions
  I still struggle with a childish sense of, "But but but! His slice of cake is bigger than MINE!" My body simply does not need as much food as Gareth's, but I still resent the fact and find it difficult not to dish up the same portions for myself.

Solo Efforts

Pros

• Simplicity
  I eat very simply when I'm on my own. Poached egg on toast. Fish or veggie burger with salad. I'll make a pot of soup and eat it four nights in a row. Mostly because I'm too lazy to make a mess of the kitchen! But also when Dr G is in the house I feel like I should make the meal more exciting and less snacky, despite him being a lot less bothered about what we eat for dinner than I am.
• Easy routines
  Gareth has been working away for a few days and as usual I've slipped into healthy little robot mode - packing my lunch the night before, organising my breakfast, cooking dinners for later in the week, doing all my planned exercise. When he's here, I can easily use him as an excuse. I often go looking for distractions - yapping away when I get home from work, asking him does he want a cuppa instead of doing my weights DVD... next thing it's 8PM and we can't be arsed cooking dinner.

Cons

• No witnesses
  There are times when I still wrestle with the old "Quick! Eat while noone's looking" mentality. As I said earlier, Gareth doesn't give a rats' what I eat, but there is something about being home alone that makes me look at the Hillwalking Snickers bars in the fridge that I can normally ignore and the wheels start turning... How many were there the other day? Would he notice if I ate one? Would I have time to replace it?!

Hot Carb on Carb Action!

Not the best timing after a post about healthy food, but I have secured photographic proof of the wonder that is the great British chip butty for those of you who were curious.

(more hot greasy action over at WNP!)

I've also added a new page tentatively titled Useful Stuff. Basically I'm attempting to compile all the rockin' health and fitness websites and resources that have helped me over the years, so when people ask me about that sort of thing I can point to this page instead of drooling helplessly!

Make It Easy

The most excellent Kathryn Elliot at Limes & Lycopene confessed her hatred of stir-fries in an entry called, Do small impediments stop you from eating well?

"Don’t get me wrong stir-fries are a great meal and I love eating them. They’re quick, easy and healthy ... Plus we always have tofu and vegetables in the house, which are perfect stir-fry fodder. Our mid-week meals would be better and easier to prepare if I made more stir-fries.

Instead I hate and avoid cooking them.

There are lots of reasons for this.  I don’t think I cook them very well, we often run out of necessary condiments etc, etc.

But the real reason I don’t cook stir-fries is . . . I can’t stand cleaning the wok."

Rather than kidding herself that there would come a miraculous sunny day when wok cleaning suddenly appealed, she devised a different strategy - she steams her veg and grills her tofu then throws over a quick dressing.

I agree that it's often the small, seemingly trivial things that lead to less healthy choices. Kathryn gave examples like skipping brekkie because you didn't have milk in the house; raiding the vending machine because you forgot your afternoon snack.

Personally I've found eating well becomes easier if you're truly realistic. What fits into your life? What are your likes and dislikes? What can you manage without wanting to stab yourself with a fork? Some people wouldn't mind washing a wok but for others it could mean, Screw this! I'm dialling a pizza. (Not that Kathryn would do that, mind; being an ace nutritionist and all!)

I love food and I love cooking. In my fantasy life, I slave over complicated casseroles and ponce off to the farmers market to stroke the organic spinach. But in reality? I'm lazy, busy and irritable. And hungry. There's no point pretending otherwise; you just have to work around it.

So I have a list of about 20 easy meals in the back of my notebook. There's old Weight Watchers recipes, food blog recipes, soups, salads; things I swiped from Ready Steady Cook. Half of them aren't meals so much as assembling things. I use the list to plan our meals before doing the weekly online grocery shop. I take into account the Level of Busyness - what will I have time and energy to cook? What could I be arsed to peel or steam after work or kickboxing?

I chuck the notebook at Gareth and ask for his opinion. He says, I don't mind! You're in charge of Foods. I say, Just look at the damn LIST would you.

We debate for five minutes: Yep. Nope. Bored of that. Aye. Nope. Too hard. That one's good. Too much chopping. Too many utensils. Can't we just have CHIPS for dinner? No. Oh.

Right now, with the Kitchen of Chaos, it's about minimum effort. For example, in the past I've made falafels from scratch, blitzing chickpeas and herbs and whatnot. Currently the very thought of messy food processor and messy chickpea hands and messy frying pan makes me want to stick my head in the oven. So this week I bought ready-made, non-dodgy falafel that take ten minutes in the oven. Last night while they baked I slapped hummus, salad leaves, cucumber, cherry tomatoes and grated carrot on a wholemeal wrap. Then I plonked on the wee falafel... squeeze o' lemon... dinner in 15 minutes. Rock n roll.

In summary: Online shopping, a daggy old list and a strong sense of reality make it easier for me to do the healthy thing. It took a lot of time and effort to find my groove, and sometimes I still fall out of it. But when I screw I just return to the basic formula and soon enough we're rattling along again.

I realise this topic won't be particularly earth shattering for some, but I know from experience that eating healthy can feel like a royal palaver and totally overwhelming. Do you have any crafty strategies for eating well? Let's hear 'em!

UPDATE: Many people have requested a copy of The List - you can find it here.