Posts Tagged ‘craving chocolate

27
Jan
14

Sometimes only a chocolate cupcake with mocha icing will do …

Sometimes only a chocolate cupcake with mocha icing will do …

Chocolate Cupcake with Mocha Icing

Or sometimes two, along with a really good cup of coffee and the sense that whatever ails will pass.

I’m recuperating from the sneezing, running nose, sore throat, coughing and general malaise that goes with the territory of a winter cold.

The Tardis - Dr. WhoA box of tissues, a package of cherry-flavored sugar-free cough drops, countless draining with the netty pot and several episodes of Dr. Who later (finished series six and halfway through seven), I’m beginning to bounce back, albeit having missed two of my three gym days for the week, and what with the snow, no running.

I know, I know, cup cakes are the LAST thing I need having not worked out since last Monday, however, the calls to the soul of a perfectly formed chocolate cupcake (or two–GERD be damned) sometimes just overrules all possible objections.

And tomorrow is another day.

One thing good that came out of my Dr. Who binge (not to mention having watched The Expendables 2, Red Dawn (the remake), and Olympus Has Fallen — yep serious B-movie trashy, action-packed, shoot-em-ups), was the realization that I’d truly over done it, which prompted me to actually write last night. Well not exactly write, but edit and think through material I’d written a year ago (dare I say on the way towards a novel?) — along with an insight or two that gave me a new sense of the work as well as a few added paragraphs.

Olivetti Underwood TypewriterI guess it’s all a long way of saying that while not exactly a new project, I may well have tapped into a fresh perspective, that will see me “bend-it-like-Beckham” into something with a bit of wow for myself because it screams out into new territory layered on top of stuff I’ve written about off and on for years.

Not too sound mysterious, but in the scheme of things, writers tend to revisit the questions over and over (at least this writer does), and to find a new angle for those questions opens up all sorts of possibilities.

The coming weeks will tell as I begin to settle into some sort of writing schedule for the work — and also tease out how to better plan out the blog with days for pure reportage and other days for the general stream of freely written thoughts.

I’d also like to thank everyone for hanging in with me! It seems I’ve hit 400,246 all time views–an extraordinary feat in my estimation with all of you to thank for it, because let me tell you, when I started back in October 2010, I never thought I’d see a 1,000 visits!

It really has been an incredible honor to write about women’s boxing from every angle I can think of–and then to have folks stop by to read what I’ve been up to just adds to how joyous this all makes me feel.

So kudos to all of you for sharing in my daily something — even when I can’t make the daily part of it all!

04
Dec
12

Eating like a “boid” …

Eating like a “boid” …

Stuffed Cabbage, Credit: Big Oven.com

Many women I know (and a few men-truth be told) are perpetually on a diet. Sometimes its even to the point where their diets are on a diet and the kind of thing where one can discern the caloric and fat content of a Starbucks Morning Bun at fifty paces.

Way back in the day — say when I was fourteen and in my grandmother’s kitchen in Far Rockaway — She’d put a plate of food in front of me that could feed half of Queens and then, sitting next to me, patting my hand would say, “Eat, darling, eat.  You eat like a boid. Eat, darling eat.”

Now mind you I LOVED her stuffed cabbage, but, we are talking one at a time, not three, not to mention, the candied yams (at any time of year), stuffed derma (never one of my favorites) and a large breast of paprika chicken.

Matzah Ball Soup, Credit: Saveur.comThat was just lunch — not a holiday meal where a plate like that was the appetizer to be followed by Matzah Ball Soup (hmmm), gefilte fish (’cause there had to be a fish appetizer course), Turkey (if it was Thanksgiving), what my grandmother called “meat” which was pot roast, carrots and potatoes baked with tomatoes to the point where the meat was in strings, the aforementioned paprika chicken, and assorted vegetables such as beets, potatoes and peas and carrots.  And we can’t forget dessert, which was usually cake (macaroons on Passover) and pieces of candy or fruit from the endless supply of bowls filled with the stuff, plus coffee (instant), tea (Lipton), fights over sneaking real milk (not kosher) versus the dried milk substitute, oh and when my Uncle Bunny was over, shots of Slivowitz for the adults at the table.

The period from Thanksgiving through the New Year brings to mind my Grandmother’s bounteous table–or as I like to call it a heart-attack-on-a-plate. And even with her many admonitions about my avian-like behavior, which frankly I never really understood, because I always felt like I ate enough for a week!

Later in my twenties, I made the schlep to Far Rockaway to an older, svelter Grandma who in fighting off her high “sugar” count (aka Type II Diabetes) had dropped from a size 18 to an 8. Still, she’d put a humongous plate of food in front of me, as if I’d been out on the velt chasing lions or something before hopping the A train and with nary a thought to what it might do to my health.

More to the point, her sense of proportion reflected a feast-or-famine mentality honed I suppose from her experiences raising a family during the Depression and her own childhood in places like the Lower East Side and East Harlem where money was always tight.

A lot of years later, however, a portion of that size is an automatic five-pound weight gain (even thinking about it gives me at least a pound or two), not to mention a GERD attack (indigestion plus a throat on fire) and an instant case of narcolepsy.

While counting calories feels incredibly luxurious in a world where many people would still look on one of Grandma’s plates of food as something miraculous, Western types with jingle in their jeans and a ready source of fabulous foods face different challenges. And if you’re a woman of a certain age like me, “water weight” no longer cuts it as an excuse.

What is required is a mindfulness about food that takes into account the body’s carbohydrate, protein, fat and caloric needs, the state of one’s health, and a moment of reflection from time-to-time on where food comes from and how it gets to one’s table. After all, most of us do not go to the back forty to pick our own tomatoes, green beans and sweet peas (except maybe in summer at our country places), nor do we pluck our freshly killed chickens, milk cows or gather our eggs at 5:00 in the morning. What we do is wander through the aisles of a supermarket or Whole Foods or the local deli or maybe even make it to a Farmer’s Market to pick up fresh foods or more than likely prepared meals (frozen, boxed or fresh) or skip it all and eat out or better yet, order in Thai.

What we don’t necessarily do is take the time to reflect on what we are eating and how it got there or how its many nutrients pass through the miracle of the body to be stripped down into constituent parts to fuel our many activities.

Chocolate, Credit: Kitchen TalkWhether its eating too little or eating too much, what we owe ourselves is eating “right” especially as we enter that period where food abounds and whether through many temptations (hmmm, yes, chocolate), lots of holiday gatherings or just plain anxiety, how we eat seems to get laden down with a lot of extra baggage, plus a notch or too on our belts.

Whatever your persuasion during the next several weeks, be aware that issues around eating will definitely be on the table … so think twice and if you do have that yummy extra helping of freshly made potato latkes, what the heck, enjoy, after all, it is only once a year!

20
Mar
12

Early spring grumps …

Early spring grumps …

Okay, I admit it.  I have a case of early spring grumps.  We’re talking ridiculous, right?  There it was 70+ degrees when I walked out of work yesterday and was I happy?  No.  I was decidedly grumpy.

Okay, it wasn’t terminal grumpiness or its cousin irascibility and certainly hasn’t drifted to chronic grumpiness, at least not yet, although the cat might think differently after getting soaked with the water sprayer this morning after waking me up at 5:00 AM, yet again.  I know, I know, I should love the little kitty and say, how cute as she scratches at the dresser with her paws to say, “wakey, wakey!” … but really, 5:00 AM?

That little discomfort aside I do admit to craving chocolate cake and bags of potato chips: two seriously never, ever eat again foods in my lexicon of things to eat and things not to eat.

Saying it, however, doesn’t mean I have to like it. And while I “get” that in the immortal words of Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca, “… the problems of three little people don’t amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world,”  aka, my larynx, my esophagus and my stomach, I still want to complain.

And that’s the rub.  The complaint thing.  Sometimes I just want to complain!  You know, the old, “why me?” or a personal favorite around my house, “it’s your fault.”

So, meanwhile, back in the real world, the antidote is, as always, those sixteen hard pounding rounds at Gleason’s Gym where lately, the workout has come to mean that space where I can truly say my two favorite chestnuts:  “its good to hit things” and “work it out on the bag.”

In the scheme of things, my out-of-sorts mein will right itself (say by the end of this post?), but the space for working things out will remain and whether it’s in my own head, on a walk where I pause just long enough to recognize that 70+ degrees in the middle of March is truly great (while forgetting the climate change thing that could get me to spiral backwards again), eating a truly delicious stalk of asparagus (of the fresh spring farmer’s market variety) or pounding on the double-ended bag, life really is a miraculous experience — even when the grumps get you down.




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© Malissa Smith and Girlboxing, 2010-2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Malissa Smith and Girlboxing with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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