Indian Dinner, My Favorite American Snacks

 

Last night, hubby and I, after treating ourselves to see the adorable movie, Chef, went out to a lovely Indian restaurant a few towns away from where we live.  It was a treat and we ordered Samosas (I always get these mixed up with Samoas, Girl Scout Cookies that my kids love.)  We ordered the Samosas three

different ways. One was potato with peas and lentils, one was spinach and the other was filled with lamb and spices. They were delicious and filling and frankly my stomach could have stopped there but what’s the fun in that?

We then ordered Shrimp Saag, shrimp in a bed of spinach ( I thought there was a little cream in there, my husband said absolutely not) and an amazing sweet dish of chicken in a yellow cream sauce made of honey, cashews and apples. The consistency was smooth so all the ingredients except for the chicken were blended, creamy and rich. We also ordered one portion of Nan which resembles pita bread if you ironed it to barely nothing. After all, what good is all that creamy, sweet sauce without the proper bread to dunk it in?

I drank a sweet Lassi ( a yogurt drink made with ice, rosewater, sweet syrup and blended) see the easy recipe below, and my husband had some alcoholic drink with figs, rum, bourbon and too many other ingredients. I took a sip hoping I would like the taste. I made my usual disgusted face that my family is so fond of seeing, gasped and reached for my water-glass to clear my palate of that nasty alcohol taste. Next time:I’m ordering a double lassi, on the rocks.

We ate like four-year old children, having dinner at 5 o’ clock, (okay it was really 4:50pm) but that has never bothered us before so by the time we came home it was only 6:15 a time when most families are preparing dinner. Nope, not us. When we came

 *Easy Sweet Lassi

Ingredients:Servings:2-3Units: US | Metric

1 cup yoghurt
1/2 cup water
1/2 cup ice-cube
3 -5 teaspoons sugar
1 pinch salt

Put all ingredients in a blender until smooth.

Read more: food.com/easy recipe

home we had dessert (I deeply regretted not ordering the yogurt balls in honey…) so I had the gigantic molasses cookie I had purchased at the small grocery story in town. It was enough for  three people but I finished it with ease. Had too much sugar and no spice ( I expected ginger) but I’m not that fussy so I ate the entire thing.

Around 9 pm my husband and I roamed around the kitchen because at that point we were ready for a snack, I just needed SOMETHING.  I headed to one of my all-time favorite snack combinations and one of my dog Lexi’s favorite snacks too. A small packet of square pretzels, two slices of Kraft Individually Wrapped American cheese and a box of chocolate Yoo-Hoo to drink.

Now that, was a perfect snack. It is always the perfect snack for me and for my dog. I only gave her one pretzel and bite of cheese but she knows the sound of the pretzel bag and comes running when she first hears the bag rustle.

Basically, you can take me out to a fancy dinner anywhere but when I come home, I retreat to the food I really love. My snack: pretzels, Kraft American cheese slices and Yoo-Hoo, my childhood drink of choice.  I went to bed, happy.

 

Dedicated to PK Sr.

That Darn Fantasy Scone

English: They baked up into a wonderful tender and flaky scone! (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I finally found the scone that I had fantasized about last week,( see post ” Cranky Is As Cranky Does, I’m Hungry…”) in a Viennese Pattisserie, where I’ve been to once before. At that precious moment, I did not have any common sense. I mean after all, this was not a British Bakery.

They had delicious looking pastries, cakes, and bite size mini-desserts. Once they had a plate of samples out but we were not in luck this particular day.

I see scones and I literally squeal with joy. I asked the lovely woman who worked there what flavor the scones were (of course only the one with the baked sugar frosting) and she told me: apple. Done. I ordered it and for the rest of the evening I dreamed about having the scone to go along with my one large, white mug (out of my favorite, well-fitting mug, the right thickness for my lips) of very strong coffee in the morning.

Once out of the bakery, my husband, looked at me as if I were out of my mind. “You’re not eating that now?” he asked. I stared back at him (you know “THE LOOK” implying after 25 years of marriage don’t you know me by now?) Of course I wouldn’t eat it on the spot, I was “Saving It.” Yes, I am one of those people. It’s neither right or wrong, it’s a style. I would never say he was right or wrong (I am always right.)

Maybe it was too much anticipation but my first taste of the scone in the morning was so hard and barely “chewable”, I thought my jaw would pop out again. I tried to soften it up in the microwave which helped a little but frankly not that much.

The last time I had scones was in England with my parents when I was a child and that was the real deal, of course I remember the clotted cream, the afternoon tea, the scones and small sandwiches which were without the dreaded crusts and the fresh sweetness of the strawberry preserves.

Yes, leave it to me to associate place by food only. That’s my job (and passion.) I’m on the look out now for something “breakfasty” to either buy or make (easy only) that’s soft like a muffin but doesn’t have as many calories yet a TINY BIT firmer like a GOOD scone, raisins are a must. Vegetables are okay, but I don’t have a chopper thing, delicious factor desperately needed..Simple and easy, a must. My stomach thanks you.

Plinky Prompt: Eat to Live or Live to Eat?

Chateaubriand with Bearnaise @ Urola, San Sebastian. 16 April 2007. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

• Some people eat to live, while others live to eat. What about you? How far would you travel for the best meal of your life? See all answers

• Edit answer |
• August 23, 2013 by hibernationnow

• Live to eat: Where, When, NOW?

• How hard am I laughing? Can you peeps hear me chuckling, holding on to my sides with hysteria? Everyone who has ever known me or has read my blog (hibernationnow.wordpress.com) knows that I LOVE FOOD. I am not a gourmand, I eat pizza with jelly or a much-loved Twinkie when I am in the mood. Sure, I love a great piece of filet mignon or sautéed garlic shrimp, chicken francese with buttery lemon sauce over pasta, umm, Chateaubriand with béarnaise sauce. Always, I mean always, leave room for dessert. No matter how full you are, dessert goes into a special dessert compartment. I dream about the dessert menu, Sacher Torte, vanilla custards, flan, Lindzer Tortes, warm, large chocolate chip cookies, oatmeal raisin cookies, (with a glass of milk) truffles: the chocolate kind, milk and dark, vanilla layer cake, chocolate layer cake, coconut layer cake….I just can’t relate to the people who have to eat to live. I NEED to love my dinners, especially on Sunday nights, it’s a rule in our house: We Must Love Our Dinners On Sunday Nights. Basically, that means we go to a restaurant, nothing fancy.
  I would go to the ends of the world for the best dish known to man-kind. I admit I’m not very adventurous, not a big fan of sushi, many types of raw anything and strong-smelling fish. I’m trying though..For the best meal of my life? Tell me where and when…I’m on my way, with PLEASURE.

• 

  Dessert assortment (Photo credit: Nikchick)

Photographs courtesy of the photographers.

Plinky Prompt: Describe The Perfect Meal

• Describe the perfect meal.

• Edit answer |
• September 18, 2012 by hibernationnow

• A Foodie Begs
• Welcome To My Food Fantasy (Any Famous Chef Want To Make It Come True?)
• Beef Wellington You are talking to a foodie here so I take this question very SERIOUSLY. I’m not just going to say “chicken dumpling soup” or “steak and a potato.” Oh No, details count and while I can’t cook very well, I can eat and enjoy food in a restaurant with the greatest of pleasure……Let us begin.I would start with an appetizer of shrimp cocktail and lobster meat (fresh not canned) with cocktail sauce and of course a lemon wedge or two. Here’s the thing, I would eat practically anything BECAUSE of the cocktail sauce. As my brother-in-law, Ron would say, the shrimp/lobster is just THE VEHICLE, well said, Ron. There would be a basket of rolls (an assortment) on the table “Timmy approved” which means they would be warm. DO NOT SERVE US COLD ROLLS AND COLD BUTTER, EVER. After that, a light salad, with a sprinkle of goat cheese, currants and avocado. The greens would be watercress, endive and Boston Lettuce. The dressing, a citrus vinagrette with balsamic vinegar.The main course: Mmmmm… It would be hard to choose between filet mignon or Beef Wellington (which is an OLD classic but this is MY fantasy) served with a crunchy baked potato (baked in the oven and NOT in the microwave, and yes, I do eat the skin, with huge dollops of butter, sour cream and chives) and glazed carrots. (A refill on the bread basket? That would be lovely, thank you.)To the disappointment of my family I do not like any type of alcohol so I would have a Shirley Temple, extra cherries, please. Ok, I’m sorry.Dessert: I’M SO EXCITED!! That said, there is no way I could pick one dessert so because this is my fantasy I would have the dessert sampler platter which happens to include: a piece of a raspberry/currant exploding tart (I had this in Vienna with my dad, once!) the berries explode in your mouth with a sugar crumble pie top, a fudge brownie with walnuts (served with home-made vanilla bean ice cream), a piece of NY Cheesecake with Strawberry Sauce and one real strawberry and Creme Brulee.Since we are lingering at this fantasy meal, after this I would like a cheese platter consisting of St. André, (no blue cheese) Gouda, Edam and is Münster too common? (Oh, who cares, I love it.)On my way out, I would like to be handed a small box (just two pieces) of chocolate, to be exact, two champagne truffles.Wow, I’m full, but it has been delightful fantasizing. Thanks for dining with me. If anyone would like to make this dream come true, feel free to email me. My RSVP will be a definite “Yes.”

When Stress Takes My Hand And Leads Me To The Refrigerator

 

Image by kygp via Flickr

 

I could say that eating unabashedly after dinner is not my fault. I could say that my hormones take over and I just go blindly to the kitchen without thought or reason. That’s partially true. It’s 10:00pm, “do you know where your children are?” asks  Channel 5 (or what I refer to as the “murder channel.”) Yes, I know where my children are but do they know where I am? Probably. They hear my not-so-lightly-padded- feet in the kitchen, the sound of the refrigerator opening and closing, cabinets flung open and the sound of crackling from aluminum packages. When there is something stressful going on in my life I get extraordinarly hungry. No, not at meal times. Not for breakfast or lunch or dinner. I’m doing a days worth of snacking after dinner and while I know its wrong, I still do it. What leads me to the refrigerator at night, is pure and simple, stress. When I am anxious, I eat. I eat, therefore I am. Food comforts me and even thought it’s not a popular thing to say or an easy one to admit, it’s true.

While I grab and choose food there’s usually something that prompts me: a commercial on television, a friend’s description of her lunch or I just need sweet than salty, sweet than salty and  yes, sweet AND salty. Sigh. It’s a vicious circle and I can’t blame anyone except myself or my evil twin as I like to call her. An example of my choices: pretzels dipped in Boursin cheese, Yoo-Hoo, my beverage of choice, vanilla cake, Oreo cookies, Munster cheese spread with strawberry jam, left over pizza with salt, Yodels, rice with ketchup, chips with salsa and guacamole, 100 calorie packs (because they don’t count!), chocolate covered cherries and baked Lays potato chips (because I am watching my weight) GRIN.

Full disclosure: I have been known (infrequently) to have a sample of all of the above when I am not stressed (or don’t know I am stressed) and just hungry. I know it’s bad when I don’t think about what I want to eat, I just grab and stuff. If you ask me if I feel guilty about it, I would have to say, in all honesty, no. While I am eating I don’t think about it, the day after is another story. I am able to forgive myself quickly and at least try to eat healthy food the next  day. Luckily, this bingeing doesn’t last more than a few hours at a time. I don’t drink alcohol, I don’t do drugs, my vice, when stressed or just hungry is simple: food. I am a foodie and my idea of a lovely evening is going out with my husband or friends to a delicious meal. It’s gluttony, it’s enjoyment and it’s food. I take full responsibility for my actions, stressful or starving, I’m ready to order.

Food Fantasy

I want to eat fattening foods like chocolate cake and tons of frosting with a large glass of milk, egg rolls that are crisp and greasy and amazing. Thick vanilla milkshakes that I can barely sip through a straw. I want pupu platters served to me with a little bit of everything fried. Prawns and cocktail sauce, sweet and sour meatballs, pigs in blankets; it’s beginning to sound like I want my Bat Mitzvah at the age of 53… I also want potato pancakes crisp and brown, with applesauce that has a lot of added sugar in it.  I want surf and turf, a dish of melted butter for the lobster, Béarnaise sauce for the steak, Hollandaise sauce for the asparagus and I will add my own additional salt, thank you. And, I want the thick, steak cut French Fries that I saw yesterday when I was eating my meager salad, drinking ice water with lemon.  I want to sit down for a 6 course meal at a restaurant where I don’t have to get up and out of my chair every 5 minutes to get someone something they want from the refrigerator.  A napkin, soft drink, pasta, tomato sauce, knife, fork, jelly (ok,that’s for me) ketchup, steak sauce, spritzy red salad dressing and food for the dog with gravy from the turkey we roasted two days ago.

I want to not even have heard of the words calorie, carbs, obesity, camps for overweight kids (in the NY Times Magazine section) and plus sizes. And, I want that new company Pajama Jeans to buck up and make these for people larger than a size 0-2 or 10-12, same thing.  I don’t want to join a gym or power walk or use a treadmill, stair master, rowing machine, and do free weights. I want to obliterate the word weight and the doctors in this country that are so obsessed with it. Give me a very large internist and sign me up for my physical. Not the skinny cold bitch internist that I have now whose “if- I- can- go- the- gym -at -5am- and- have -Dr. hours -and- be- a- single- parent- than- you- can -do- it -too.” Shut up you condescending bitch, I hate you, with your petite figure and dyed hair and expensive ensembles and the bedside manner of a tray of over-frozen ice cubes with freezer burn.

I want to stop denying myself all the GOOD food and screw you Weight Watchers you know you can’t eat everything on your meal plan. You want vanilla, coconut cake? Sure, have a crumb of coconut, that’s all you are entitled to, that will be 537 points, but it’s okay, you can have it. Enjoy. Enjoy, my ass.

I also don’t want to worry about every little thing that comes into my brain, every which way.  I want to go to the Asian Fusion restaurant in my neighborhood for lunch with my friend that will last 3 hours and share jasmine tea that costs a small fortune. After that, I want dessert,  lots of different types of desserts that I can savor for as long as I want.  Strong, Starbucks coffee with a lot of steamed milk and Sweet N Low. This is my fantasy and that’s how I want it.

I will not walk off my meals nor will I exercise.  I will go home and take a 3 hour nap and then wake up and the two feet of snow that has come down in the last day will be over and I will not see it again until I want to. Which might be never because I am sick and tired of cold weather that makes my bones ache and my mind feel claustrophobic. I will burrow under a down blanket, worn with age, and two more blankets on top of it and not come up until Spring.