Step one: Do all things normally associated with getting pregnant.
Step two: Commit to a year-long insane plan of eating all whole foods.
Step three: Nope, there is no step 3. That's it.
It happened. I knew it would. I knew that the second I committed to this cockamamie plan that I'd instantly get pregnant. It's how things work with me. Life changes only come when I don't allow time for them. I wasn't too worried, I've been pregnant before and I didn't forsee any problems doing both at the same time. Boy, was I wrong.
Morning sickness hits me almost instantly. I'm not one of those people who gets a few weeks to digest and then has the sickness hit at about 6 weeks (normal). I usually have a pretty good idea that I'm pregnant when it's still too early to test. Unfortunately, at 6 weeks... the REAL morning sickness hit. Suddenly I was sick all the time. I couldn't stand to see food, eat food, think about food, cook food. I was completely useless (still am actually).
I force myself to eat because I know it will only get substantially worse otherwise. It's better to eat breakfast twice than to not eat breakfast at all, and unlike the stomach flu, you can't avoid puking by not eating. You can however, sometimes avoid puking if you DO eat.
Interestingly, I developed a food aversion to, well, everything homemade. Which gave me a difficult choice. Well, it wasn't that difficult. The baby needed food and if the only food I could keep down was pre-processed, I would eat it. Contrary to popular belief, I'm not actually crazy. I have been surviving on Cheerios, Saltines, fruit and granola bars. I can usually fit in other foods too... sometimes, but please don't ask me to cook it. Interestingly, I have discovered that I can eat a bowl of Cheerios right after throwing one up. Who knew!?
So, if you think that means I failed my Real Food Experiment, oh well. I suppose technically I did... but I'm hoping I'm just taking a brief hiatus and this gets better so I can continue on.
However, the true, secret, motive for my plan has been accomplished, so even if I can't do it anymore... I'm still pregnant.
BOOYAH!
Friday, October 22, 2010
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
eek.
I'd like to start a support group for those of us with over-active imaginations.
There is some marginal benefit to having a good imagination, especially if you can figure out a way to make money with it, but there is a dark downside.
Nothing is safe.
As soon as I had Girl into her own bed in her own room (a week or two after I had her) and starting using the baby monitor... my imagination reared it's ugly head. I would have these recurrin episodes of "It would be SO SCARY IF..." and then visions of watching the baby monitor as a calm, rough voice crackled through the speaker, alerting me that he "has my baby", and I can come up and get her if I want.
*SHUDDER*
I don't know why I do it to myself. Can't I just be like the rest of the world, to whom a baby monitor is nothing more than surveillance?
The scary thing is that this isn't even all. Perhaps I enjoy being scared and freaking myself out. I do really enjoy Criminal Minds after all. There is a fairly remote chance that the way I go out will be linked to a serial killer, but... you never know. I hope I'm not that person in the movie who runs from the house when everyone in the theatre is screaming not to, but rather the one who somehow, through sheer resiliancy, makes it out alive, scarred for life.
I need a support group.
There is some marginal benefit to having a good imagination, especially if you can figure out a way to make money with it, but there is a dark downside.
Nothing is safe.
As soon as I had Girl into her own bed in her own room (a week or two after I had her) and starting using the baby monitor... my imagination reared it's ugly head. I would have these recurrin episodes of "It would be SO SCARY IF..." and then visions of watching the baby monitor as a calm, rough voice crackled through the speaker, alerting me that he "has my baby", and I can come up and get her if I want.
*SHUDDER*
I don't know why I do it to myself. Can't I just be like the rest of the world, to whom a baby monitor is nothing more than surveillance?
The scary thing is that this isn't even all. Perhaps I enjoy being scared and freaking myself out. I do really enjoy Criminal Minds after all. There is a fairly remote chance that the way I go out will be linked to a serial killer, but... you never know. I hope I'm not that person in the movie who runs from the house when everyone in the theatre is screaming not to, but rather the one who somehow, through sheer resiliancy, makes it out alive, scarred for life.
I need a support group.
Monday, October 18, 2010
A Blind Eye.
I watched The Blind Side yesterday. I know it's been out for a good long while, but hey, I don't get to see many movies these days. It was quite enjoyable and I can understand why it got good reviews. I, however took something very different from the movie. I was able, in a few small places to see a glimpse of my Oma. Sandra Bullock's character reminded me so much of her. Not in the bleached and coiffed southern black walnut kind of way (tough nut to crack), but in the no-nonsense version of compassion. It's what I saw when I grew up. Whether it was the family of my Opa's health care worker who was stuggling and she went out and bought a pile of groceries, or the numerous "strays" that graced our family dinner tables over the years... there was always room.
Along the same lines, I saw an episode of Oprah recently that reminded me of the same thing. There was a women, a US veteran who had served in the Pentagon as well as in Iraq and Afghanistan, and now, for the last year, has lived in a car. Her pension pays the $10 a day car rental with about $3 a day to live on. It made me sad, not because she was homeless and it was a shame, but because I couldn't imagine letting anyone I knew live in a car. Does she have no family? No friends? She had housing, but she gave it up voluntarily to another female vet because that woman had children. Could they not have shared? It was just so far beyond my understanding that the people around her would let that happen.
I've been blessed, I have a house with room to spare. I have money to buy groceries and cook what I need and want. There is no reason at all that I can't share that. It might be uncomfortable, it might be difficult, but it's the right thing to do, and I hope that if given the opportunity, I will have the strength to do it.
Along the same lines, I saw an episode of Oprah recently that reminded me of the same thing. There was a women, a US veteran who had served in the Pentagon as well as in Iraq and Afghanistan, and now, for the last year, has lived in a car. Her pension pays the $10 a day car rental with about $3 a day to live on. It made me sad, not because she was homeless and it was a shame, but because I couldn't imagine letting anyone I knew live in a car. Does she have no family? No friends? She had housing, but she gave it up voluntarily to another female vet because that woman had children. Could they not have shared? It was just so far beyond my understanding that the people around her would let that happen.
I've been blessed, I have a house with room to spare. I have money to buy groceries and cook what I need and want. There is no reason at all that I can't share that. It might be uncomfortable, it might be difficult, but it's the right thing to do, and I hope that if given the opportunity, I will have the strength to do it.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
What's in a name?
I was talking to my pregnant cousin recently, and the topic of choosing baby names came up, as it invariably does when talking to pregnant people (they have such one-track minds).
To be completely honest and opinionated, I think this recent trend of annoyingly unique baby names has got to stop. As a mother, my job in life is to give my child a good start, and not cripple them for life. Girl has a name that is not really common (really, who names their child "Girl"?) but it's phonetic, and common enough that people will know how to spell it and pronounce it. We don't have an easy last name to start out with, but I have a lot of trouble with the fact that no matter what your name is these days, you HAVE to spell it outloud for everyone who needs it. There are too many variations of the exact same name that we might as well wear nametags to make life easier (with a phonetic spelling underneath of course)
I feel sorry for teachers. With a class list of Aymeighs and Maiyas and Khrises, how they struggle through roll call the first day is beyond me. They must get phonetic spellings. This doesn't even mention the names that aren't really names... like Pinstripe and Telephone and Orange. Are those boys or girls? I have no idea.
Remember in the 60's (heh, because you know I remember so well), there was a contingent of people who believed that naming their children Wind and Rain and Sunshine was a good idea. Why? No one knows, but those people have grown up now and are in their 40s, and stuck with a name that immediately dates them (and for some, may possibly embarass them).
I think the madness will stop someday. We will go back to more traditional names, (goodness, are there really not enough of them? The poor people writing baby-name books in the next 5 years...) if only because we run out of silent letters to add.
To be completely honest and opinionated, I think this recent trend of annoyingly unique baby names has got to stop. As a mother, my job in life is to give my child a good start, and not cripple them for life. Girl has a name that is not really common (really, who names their child "Girl"?) but it's phonetic, and common enough that people will know how to spell it and pronounce it. We don't have an easy last name to start out with, but I have a lot of trouble with the fact that no matter what your name is these days, you HAVE to spell it outloud for everyone who needs it. There are too many variations of the exact same name that we might as well wear nametags to make life easier (with a phonetic spelling underneath of course)
I feel sorry for teachers. With a class list of Aymeighs and Maiyas and Khrises, how they struggle through roll call the first day is beyond me. They must get phonetic spellings. This doesn't even mention the names that aren't really names... like Pinstripe and Telephone and Orange. Are those boys or girls? I have no idea.
Remember in the 60's (heh, because you know I remember so well), there was a contingent of people who believed that naming their children Wind and Rain and Sunshine was a good idea. Why? No one knows, but those people have grown up now and are in their 40s, and stuck with a name that immediately dates them (and for some, may possibly embarass them).
I think the madness will stop someday. We will go back to more traditional names, (goodness, are there really not enough of them? The poor people writing baby-name books in the next 5 years...) if only because we run out of silent letters to add.
Running
I hate running. Let's just get that out there. I know it's SUPPOSEDLY good for you (though I can recite a loing list of people for whom running has destroyed their joints... my joints in contrast are perfectly fine), but I can't really bring myself to do it.
Husband loves to run. He is weird. I'm proud of him though. Today, he finished his first half-marathon, beating his goal by 24 seconds. His time was 1:44:36. I was sleeping through most of it. It was also in a time zone an hour ahead of us, so don't be too appalled.
I just have trouble with running. I blame it on boobs mostly. That way Husband can't complain. You really gotta tie those babies down or you got serious problems. I have an expensive sports bra (stupid thing cost me $120 and looks like it's made out of a bad bridesmaid dress) which works pretty well, but really... some people are built to run, and I am not one of them. I also have short legs, so I can take the same number of steps as Husband and his natural stilts, and go half the distance. No thanks.
Part of me feels like I should run... because it's good for you, and all the really skinny people do it. I think it's easier for skinny people. Less wind resistance. That, and skinny people don't usually have big boobs.
See, I can come up with justification for anything.
Husband loves to run. He is weird. I'm proud of him though. Today, he finished his first half-marathon, beating his goal by 24 seconds. His time was 1:44:36. I was sleeping through most of it. It was also in a time zone an hour ahead of us, so don't be too appalled.
I just have trouble with running. I blame it on boobs mostly. That way Husband can't complain. You really gotta tie those babies down or you got serious problems. I have an expensive sports bra (stupid thing cost me $120 and looks like it's made out of a bad bridesmaid dress) which works pretty well, but really... some people are built to run, and I am not one of them. I also have short legs, so I can take the same number of steps as Husband and his natural stilts, and go half the distance. No thanks.
Part of me feels like I should run... because it's good for you, and all the really skinny people do it. I think it's easier for skinny people. Less wind resistance. That, and skinny people don't usually have big boobs.
See, I can come up with justification for anything.
Update
I was told today that I have to put up new blog entries otherwise people may believe I have spiralled into a deep depression. No depression thus far... just the plain old crazy life. I've been checking things of the list/pile that seems to be devouring me, and still so many of my dreams and goals are being left until I have more time. Good luck with that. I haven't written in months, though my book still swirls in my head at inopportune times (like when I should be sleeping). I really need to write it down.
The Real Food Experiment is really difficult in some ways. I find grocery shopping really hard. I think that's mainly because I am so used to buying what I see... being inspired by the store for what to make for dinner. I need to actually plan ahead now. It saves me money because ther is virtually no impulse purchasing, but it takes a bit more brain power (of which I am lacking these days). Lunches for Husband are especially hard. When deli meats are out (a staple of his former lunch), and anything other than homemade mayo, it takes a lot of advance planning to figure something out. Husband has gone to work with a container of hard-boiled eggs and fruit. Sorry hon.
There are definitely times when I feel like giving up. Times like now especially when I can't even find the time in life to blog about how I feel. What is the point of doing it if no one else can learn anything from the experiment?
Speaking of how I feel... not that different. I had thought (especially with all the talk of toxins and free-radicals and the evils of preservatives) that there would be some measurable change in our health. Not really, at least for me. Husband has lost weight (grumble), but that likely has more to do with the inability to snack on doughnuts at coffee break. I have lost about 10 pounds in the last while, but that's a story for another day.
We'll keep going. Maybe someday I'll feel different. I don't though. I think just getting on my elliptical would make more of a difference to my health than this diet is doing, but time will tell.
The Real Food Experiment is really difficult in some ways. I find grocery shopping really hard. I think that's mainly because I am so used to buying what I see... being inspired by the store for what to make for dinner. I need to actually plan ahead now. It saves me money because ther is virtually no impulse purchasing, but it takes a bit more brain power (of which I am lacking these days). Lunches for Husband are especially hard. When deli meats are out (a staple of his former lunch), and anything other than homemade mayo, it takes a lot of advance planning to figure something out. Husband has gone to work with a container of hard-boiled eggs and fruit. Sorry hon.
There are definitely times when I feel like giving up. Times like now especially when I can't even find the time in life to blog about how I feel. What is the point of doing it if no one else can learn anything from the experiment?
Speaking of how I feel... not that different. I had thought (especially with all the talk of toxins and free-radicals and the evils of preservatives) that there would be some measurable change in our health. Not really, at least for me. Husband has lost weight (grumble), but that likely has more to do with the inability to snack on doughnuts at coffee break. I have lost about 10 pounds in the last while, but that's a story for another day.
We'll keep going. Maybe someday I'll feel different. I don't though. I think just getting on my elliptical would make more of a difference to my health than this diet is doing, but time will tell.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Missing Pieces.
This weekend, while away with my mom, we ran into some friends... more hers than ours, but we grew up with their kids too, so close enough. They have no grandkids yet, and although Girl doesn't have an Opa of her own, she seems very familiar with the concept. She latched onto the man (who isn't much older than my dad would have been) and within minutes was calling him Opa and letting him tickle and play and roll in the grass with her.
For the briefest of moments, he was my dad.
There are times when I really miss him... less for me than for Girl. They never met, but I know they would have had a relationship that beat all. Dad loved kids... he would have been teaching her insanely big words and rolling around on the floor with her. He would have been an open lap, and open ear and always good for a laugh. It makes me really sad sometimes that he wasn't around to see his grandkids, and that Girl doesn't have a grandfather at all (they both went to meet their maker). No matter how I want it for Girl, I do also wish it for me. It would have been a relationship that made me smile... seeing my little girl and my dad share secrets and blanket forts.
It is not to be.
For the briefest of moments, he was my dad.
There are times when I really miss him... less for me than for Girl. They never met, but I know they would have had a relationship that beat all. Dad loved kids... he would have been teaching her insanely big words and rolling around on the floor with her. He would have been an open lap, and open ear and always good for a laugh. It makes me really sad sometimes that he wasn't around to see his grandkids, and that Girl doesn't have a grandfather at all (they both went to meet their maker). No matter how I want it for Girl, I do also wish it for me. It would have been a relationship that made me smile... seeing my little girl and my dad share secrets and blanket forts.
It is not to be.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
A Play.
Mom: "I'm going to make the turkey gravy for thanksgiving"
Suzie: "Why?" (looks confused. She thought she would be making it)
Mom: "Because then I can use contraband"
Suzie: (more confused) "What contraband?"
Mom: "Onion soup mix"
Suzie: (Still confused) "Since when do we put onion soup mix into turkey gravy"
Mom: "Trust me."
Suzie: "I have made turkey gravy 5-10 times and I have never once used onion soup mix."
Mom: "Trust me, it'll be better"
Suzie: (Stares at Mom is complete confusion)
Mom: "Or is that meatballs?"
Suzie: (laughs) "Yes mom, you use onion soup mix in meatballs"
END SCENE
Sorry mom, this story was just too good to share! So, no onion soup mix in the turkey gravy (which is good, since it is a beef-based soup). Mom is going to bring the meatballs instead.
Suzie: "Why?" (looks confused. She thought she would be making it)
Mom: "Because then I can use contraband"
Suzie: (more confused) "What contraband?"
Mom: "Onion soup mix"
Suzie: (Still confused) "Since when do we put onion soup mix into turkey gravy"
Mom: "Trust me."
Suzie: "I have made turkey gravy 5-10 times and I have never once used onion soup mix."
Mom: "Trust me, it'll be better"
Suzie: (Stares at Mom is complete confusion)
Mom: "Or is that meatballs?"
Suzie: (laughs) "Yes mom, you use onion soup mix in meatballs"
END SCENE
Sorry mom, this story was just too good to share! So, no onion soup mix in the turkey gravy (which is good, since it is a beef-based soup). Mom is going to bring the meatballs instead.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Second time's a charm?
It's no secret Husband and I are trying for baby #2. Lately I've been paying close attention to those around me who have gone through this "miracle" (I use quotations because I personally find it gross and weird) more than once. There is a definite difference between "first baby advice" and "second baby advice".
When I was pregnant with Girl, I didn't feel like I got much advice... I think the general consensus is "don't scare the newly pregnant person". Now that I've been through it once and people know we are not adverse to trying it again, the floodgates have opened. I find the difference between first and second babies to be very interesting. No matter what the first labour was like it seems as though every mom wants to do it differently. This is especially true in cases where there is a bad first labour experience. I don't really know what constitutes "bad" since it's not really a picnic no matter how you slice it.
I have heard a variety of changes "everyone" should make. They run the gamut, from pelvic exercises to midwifery, to home births to doulas. I didn't have a wonderful labour experience myself, but that was mostly because I was insanely late (15 days) and induced. Girl's head was borderline too big and she was wrapped up in her umbilical cord so tightly that they were getting odd heartbeats with each contraction. Therefore, I was induced, and trapped in a bed with heart monitors for a good 36 hours. It wasn't fun, but I really don't think there was anything that I could have done to change it. I tried every method known to man (or at least the internet) to get labour to start earlier on it's own... to no avail. I couldn't really control Girl's head size or the need for heart monitors. Personally I'm glad to have had surgeons around in case she really needed to come out quickly.
I often wonder about making changes. Is it really the new methods that make life easier? Or is it more the experience? I'm sure there is less anxiety the second time around, since you kind of know what you're getting yourself into, and can plan a bit better for what you need. I personally don't feel the need for a midwife or a doula, I don't need any emotional support that Husband can't provide for me (in fact, with my inappropriate sense of humor, I'd rather have people there who understand me... which not everyone does). I actually found that my OB-GYN was a little too "hand-hold-y" for my taste, and was glad that someone else I didn't know ended up delivering. Miraculously the nurse who was with us for 18 hours seemed to get us completely and I credit her constructive advice for Girl coming out without the need for a single stitch. If there was anything I could request, it would be her. If only I could remember her name. (The nurses I got for the last few hours were more cheerleaders than helpful, which annoyed me)
I think my plan thus far is to not change anything. I'll still hope to go into labour naturally, purely so I don't end up in the high-risk rooms again, but that's more because I prefer the idea of a private recovery room (granted, if I AM high risk, I'll pay the extra $80 for a private room anyway... I think the worst part of Girl's birth was living in a room with a crazy person for 2 days). So there you go. I have a plan.
I guess I'm kind of putting the cart before the horse, but when you have an idea for an opinionated blog entry, you just gotta go with it. Now "all we have to do" is get those first parts moving and we're off to the races.
When I was pregnant with Girl, I didn't feel like I got much advice... I think the general consensus is "don't scare the newly pregnant person". Now that I've been through it once and people know we are not adverse to trying it again, the floodgates have opened. I find the difference between first and second babies to be very interesting. No matter what the first labour was like it seems as though every mom wants to do it differently. This is especially true in cases where there is a bad first labour experience. I don't really know what constitutes "bad" since it's not really a picnic no matter how you slice it.
I have heard a variety of changes "everyone" should make. They run the gamut, from pelvic exercises to midwifery, to home births to doulas. I didn't have a wonderful labour experience myself, but that was mostly because I was insanely late (15 days) and induced. Girl's head was borderline too big and she was wrapped up in her umbilical cord so tightly that they were getting odd heartbeats with each contraction. Therefore, I was induced, and trapped in a bed with heart monitors for a good 36 hours. It wasn't fun, but I really don't think there was anything that I could have done to change it. I tried every method known to man (or at least the internet) to get labour to start earlier on it's own... to no avail. I couldn't really control Girl's head size or the need for heart monitors. Personally I'm glad to have had surgeons around in case she really needed to come out quickly.
I often wonder about making changes. Is it really the new methods that make life easier? Or is it more the experience? I'm sure there is less anxiety the second time around, since you kind of know what you're getting yourself into, and can plan a bit better for what you need. I personally don't feel the need for a midwife or a doula, I don't need any emotional support that Husband can't provide for me (in fact, with my inappropriate sense of humor, I'd rather have people there who understand me... which not everyone does). I actually found that my OB-GYN was a little too "hand-hold-y" for my taste, and was glad that someone else I didn't know ended up delivering. Miraculously the nurse who was with us for 18 hours seemed to get us completely and I credit her constructive advice for Girl coming out without the need for a single stitch. If there was anything I could request, it would be her. If only I could remember her name. (The nurses I got for the last few hours were more cheerleaders than helpful, which annoyed me)
I think my plan thus far is to not change anything. I'll still hope to go into labour naturally, purely so I don't end up in the high-risk rooms again, but that's more because I prefer the idea of a private recovery room (granted, if I AM high risk, I'll pay the extra $80 for a private room anyway... I think the worst part of Girl's birth was living in a room with a crazy person for 2 days). So there you go. I have a plan.
I guess I'm kind of putting the cart before the horse, but when you have an idea for an opinionated blog entry, you just gotta go with it. Now "all we have to do" is get those first parts moving and we're off to the races.
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Chicken Stock
What can I say... I was in a stock making mood. Actually, I just figured if I was going to have one stock simmering on the stove, I might as well have 2. Husband and I had a roasted chicken this week, and since I know Thanksgiving is around the corner (and I have a turkey to make) I knew I needed some stock. You see, I don't typically stuff my birds (they cook faster and stay juicier if they're empty, not to mention potential problems with too-low-internal-temperatures-sending-all-my-guests-to-the-hospital) so in order to get a nice moist and tasty stuffing without it being stuffed into the cavity of a roasting bird, I add some roasted chicken stock.
Strain, and stick into the fridge or freezer.
When you're making chicken noodle soup, I'd recommend starting with raw chicken pieces, the flavour tends to be better, but for stuffing, roasted chicken carcasses are fine (they also work if you're making a soup with lots of other flavours, vegetable soups, etc). Hey, waste-not-want-not right?
Take your decimated carcass and dump it (and any juices in the bottom of the pan) into a large pot with half a large onion (in chunks... and you don't even have to peel it if you don't want to), a good handful of carrots and some celery if you have. I didn't, so onions and carrots did just fine. Cover with water and simmer on ow for a few hours.
Strain, and stick into the fridge or freezer.
I got about 4-5 cups or so... soon I'll show you how to make the stuffing... but we need to wait until next week for that!
Beef Stock
Beef stock is one of the stocks I just about never make. The reason being... unlike chicken (or any kind of poultry) stock or pork stock, with beef stock, you need to start with roasted beef. The idea of making a roast (no matter how cheap the meat) purely to dump it into a pot with water kind of seems like a lot of effort. Unfortunately I haven't found a natural beef boullion base, or onion soup mix so if I ever want beef gravy, I'm going to need to do it.
So, I made my mom cry a little on the inside. After they ate their fill of roast beef, I chopped off the section with the bone and popped it into a pot with water to cover and about half a large onion (in wedges). Apparently the section with the bone is the absolute best part, but considering I was planning on using the leftovers for roast beef sandwiches, it didn't help me much. Getting gravy was a bit more important. Don't worry mom, next time I'll think ahead and get some beef stock in the freezer.
Simmer on low for a few hours and miraculously, you have beef stock! Strain out the chunks and stick it in the fridge or freezer. Give it a happy hug and imagine tasty gravy.
So, I made my mom cry a little on the inside. After they ate their fill of roast beef, I chopped off the section with the bone and popped it into a pot with water to cover and about half a large onion (in wedges). Apparently the section with the bone is the absolute best part, but considering I was planning on using the leftovers for roast beef sandwiches, it didn't help me much. Getting gravy was a bit more important. Don't worry mom, next time I'll think ahead and get some beef stock in the freezer.
Simmer on low for a few hours and miraculously, you have beef stock! Strain out the chunks and stick it in the fridge or freezer. Give it a happy hug and imagine tasty gravy.
Standing Rib Roast
Roast beef is one of the many things that I cook purely for husband. I can't stand the stuff myself, but I have a palate that would confuses the best of them. For me, to eat meat, it typically has to be ground up, spiced and squished back together. I'd take a hotdog over a steak any day. I'm ok with poultry if it's swimming in a healthy pile of hot sauce, but beef... unless I can make a hamburger out of it... no thanks.
You might think I have some kind of animal rights thing going on... I know some people don't like to eat meat that looks like what it was... (fish with eyes... whole chickens) that doesn't bother me, I simply don't like the flavour. I also don't like 99% of all alcohols, so I'm going to live forever.
My first tip for making a roast is to get good meat. A "standing rib roast" is one of the nicest cuts of beef you can get for a roast. I bought mine at a local grocery store. It was 5lbs and abou $20. I know, that's a lot, but when you calculate based on getting something the same at The Keg... Husband is getting a lot more meat, and enough leftovers to keep him in hot roast beef sandwiches for a week for less than a single meal. The ambiance may not be the same, but he'll survive.
First off, stud the beef with garlic. Hey, everything is better with garlic. Take a paring knife and stab the meat (close to veins of fat is the best, since the garlc will flavour better there)...
and shove hunks of garlic in as deep as you can. For this 5lb roast, I used about 6-7 average cloves of garlic, sliced in half. Stab them in from all directions so you get a somewhat even coverage.
Coat the outside liberally with seasoning salt and black pepper, and stick it in a roasting pan. (any kind will do). Get the oven to 350ºF and put the roast in. We calculated by 20-22 minutes per pound for medium rare, so this one took just under 2 hours. Get a meat thermometer if you're concerned and go with these internal temperatures
120°F to 125°F, (49°C to 52°C) for rare (Note: 120° is very rare).
130°F to 140°F (55°C to 60°C) for medium rare
145°F to 150°F (63°C to 66°C) for medium
155°F to 165°F (68°C to 74°C) for well done
Unfortunately, now that we're doing the Real Food Experiment, I'm not allowed to use onion soup mix, so the gravy was a little scarce (I also don't have beef stock readily available) I should probably remedy that for next time. This roast can easily feed 6-8 people. We had 2 1/2 eating it, and we have a LOT left over.
Husband was thrilled. I ate soup.
You might think I have some kind of animal rights thing going on... I know some people don't like to eat meat that looks like what it was... (fish with eyes... whole chickens) that doesn't bother me, I simply don't like the flavour. I also don't like 99% of all alcohols, so I'm going to live forever.
My first tip for making a roast is to get good meat. A "standing rib roast" is one of the nicest cuts of beef you can get for a roast. I bought mine at a local grocery store. It was 5lbs and abou $20. I know, that's a lot, but when you calculate based on getting something the same at The Keg... Husband is getting a lot more meat, and enough leftovers to keep him in hot roast beef sandwiches for a week for less than a single meal. The ambiance may not be the same, but he'll survive.
First off, stud the beef with garlic. Hey, everything is better with garlic. Take a paring knife and stab the meat (close to veins of fat is the best, since the garlc will flavour better there)...
and shove hunks of garlic in as deep as you can. For this 5lb roast, I used about 6-7 average cloves of garlic, sliced in half. Stab them in from all directions so you get a somewhat even coverage.
Coat the outside liberally with seasoning salt and black pepper, and stick it in a roasting pan. (any kind will do). Get the oven to 350ºF and put the roast in. We calculated by 20-22 minutes per pound for medium rare, so this one took just under 2 hours. Get a meat thermometer if you're concerned and go with these internal temperatures
120°F to 125°F, (49°C to 52°C) for rare (Note: 120° is very rare).
130°F to 140°F (55°C to 60°C) for medium rare
145°F to 150°F (63°C to 66°C) for medium
155°F to 165°F (68°C to 74°C) for well done
Unfortunately, now that we're doing the Real Food Experiment, I'm not allowed to use onion soup mix, so the gravy was a little scarce (I also don't have beef stock readily available) I should probably remedy that for next time. This roast can easily feed 6-8 people. We had 2 1/2 eating it, and we have a LOT left over.
Husband was thrilled. I ate soup.
Overwhelmed
I feel a little negligent... I've been slacking on my posts.
In the last week I've just felt very overwhelmed. I feel like I have so much to do that I don't have time for everything, so I just don't do any of it. There are things I need to do (edit photos from photo shoots I've done), things I should do, (laundry, bake bread, make granola) and things I want to do (work on my blog, make family photo albums and write the next great novel), but I can't seem to do anything.
Throw a rangy toddler in there, and suddenly everything I need to concentrate to do needs to be done during naptime.
I know, I'm whining. And that's ok. I'm allowed to sometimes.
I just really need a day or two to purely "ACCOMPLISH". If I can set my mind to doing things for just one day, I know I'll feel better about everything. I won't get the things I want to do done in that time, but I will get the things I NEED to do done, and then the balance will shift. Once laundry is the most important priority, I'll be feeling much better.
In the last week I've just felt very overwhelmed. I feel like I have so much to do that I don't have time for everything, so I just don't do any of it. There are things I need to do (edit photos from photo shoots I've done), things I should do, (laundry, bake bread, make granola) and things I want to do (work on my blog, make family photo albums and write the next great novel), but I can't seem to do anything.
Throw a rangy toddler in there, and suddenly everything I need to concentrate to do needs to be done during naptime.
I know, I'm whining. And that's ok. I'm allowed to sometimes.
I just really need a day or two to purely "ACCOMPLISH". If I can set my mind to doing things for just one day, I know I'll feel better about everything. I won't get the things I want to do done in that time, but I will get the things I NEED to do done, and then the balance will shift. Once laundry is the most important priority, I'll be feeling much better.
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