by Lisa Rosen on September 2, 2010
I keep coming across these interesting sneakers that claim to turn the simple act of walking into a total lower body workout. I’m absolutely fascinated by this. I sort of pride myself on not being easily sucked in by advertising claims (Lee would dispute this, but this is my blog, so we’re going with my image of me).
Anyway, as skeptical as I generally am of hot new trends, these shoes totally intrigue me. There are several brands, but they all seem to work on pretty much the same premise: the thick, curved soles of the shoes are constructed in such a way that when you wear them, you’re walking on a slightly unstable surface. Theoretically, this has all kinds of muscular/skeletal benefits.
I love the idea of toning my backside without spending any extra time in the weight room. I’d love to burn more calories just standing around. It all sounds too good to be true.
And that right there–it sounds to good to be true–is just about right, I think. This article, which I came across several weeks ago, reminded me: the only way to get the benefits of exercise is to, you know–exercise. I guess I’ll stick with plain old running . . .
by Lisa Rosen on September 1, 2010
I have come, now that I have achieved *cough* maturity, to understand and appreciate tapenade. I didn’t like olives at all when I was growing up, or even after I was grown. It’s only been in the last 4 or 5 years that I’ve started finding them delicious and interesting and addictive. I think it started with some tiny little Arbequina olives that I tasted in a Spanish restaurant, then some warm, citrusy Kalamatas that showed up at a sort of pseudo-Spanish meal . . . and I’ve been hooked ever since. I now hang out at the olive bars in various grocery stores, and can tell you which markets carry which varieties. I also know that no one around here has those Arbequinas, the ones that first converted me; but I’m not giving up the search.
In the interim, I’ve fallen hard for tapenade, that tangy, salty, earthy condiment that hails from Provence. On a sandwich, a wrap, folded into steaming pasta, smeared on a sweet tomato, or dolloped into a bowl of soup . . . it’s totally addictive. My absolute favorite summer lunch is a whole wheat tortilla, smeared with goat cheese and tapenade, covered with juicy ripe tomato slices (preferably something sweet, like a German Johnson), and rolled up. So I have to keep a small stash of tapenade in the fridge at all times. I usually get it from the Whole Foods in Raleigh, from their olive bar, but that requires driving right past the Whole Foods by my house, which only has it in jars, and that makes me feel stupid and wasteful.
So last weekend, I finally decided to figure out how to make the stuff myself.
It couldn’t be simpler. I’m still kicking myself for not trying it sooner. Not only is it stupidly easy to make–it’s stupidly easy to make just enough for lunch. Seriously–if you like olives at all, you have to try this.
Tapenade
makes enough for my lunch; your mileage may vary
8 fat, juicy Kalamata olives, pitted (The pitted part is really, really important. I can’t emphasize that enough.)
1 teaspoon capers, drained
a generous drizzle of stoneground mustard
Put all three ingredients into your (washable!) spice grinder. Whizz until it reaches an unctuous, paste-like consistency. Smear it on your sandwich. Be immensely proud of yourself.
Note: do be sure those olives are pitted. All of them. I can tell you from experience that while olive pits will indeed get fairly well crushed by the spice grinder, they will impart a distinctly gritty, unpleasant texture to your tapenade. And then there will be wailing and gnashing of teeth (and, if you are stubborn like me, many hours of picking said grit out of your teeth, because you were dumb enough to eat the stuff anyway). Much simpler to label your olives carefully.
by Lisa Rosen on August 31, 2010
This article in today’s New York Times describes the overhaul of the physical fitness training program for new military recruits. According to the article, kids joining the military today are more overweight and unfit than ever before, so the traditional elements of basic training are having to be redesigned to get them into combat-ready condition.
It’s a thought-provoking read, especially when you think about countries that require military service–I wonder if those kids are in that much better shape than ours?
It really does make you wonder what we’re doing wrong. Don’t you have an image in your head of basic training–drill sergeants and group runs and obstacle courses? Don’t you assume it’s the hot young tough-stuff studs who sign up for that? If they’re overweight and out of shape, at 18 or 19 or 20 years old, what will become of us, as a nation?
by Lisa Rosen on August 30, 2010
Well, I’ve taken the plunge–I’m back in marathon-training-mode. Last time I ran a marathon was in 2005; I was 38 then. Now I’m 43. That doesn’t sound like a huge difference, but it sure feels different–I’m a lot creakier than I used to be. It’s not the hardest thing in the world, though. Really, anyone can run a marathon. Those folks who say their marathon was harder than giving birth? They must’ve had really, really good drugs when they were in labor.
The training plan I’m using is in the book Run Less, Run Faster, by the folks at the Furman Institute of Running and Scientific Training. They are, in my opinion, geniuses. Their plans WORK. They work especially well for those of us who are getting a little older and need to pay attention to things like recovery. That 2005 marathon? The FIRST training plan helped me shave more than 30 minutes off my finish time. It’s hard, but it works.
The plan covers 16 weeks of training; this is officially week two. On tap for tomorrow: a 15 miler.
The race is on December 11th, in Kiawah, SC. Lee is going to do it, too, but he’s going to walk the 26.2 miles. Yes, you read that right, and yes, that’s going to take him all day. With any luck, I’ll be able to finish, shower, eat, and get back out on the course to cheer him to the finish.
Our race choice–Kiawah–is no accident. Kiawah is an island, and it’s flat. I’m all about flat. The fact that the race is in December is a factor, as well; I don’t love running in the heat. We’re only a few days from hitting the record here in NC for the hottest summer on record, and let me tell you–getting in decent enough shape to start this training plan has been a muggy, hot, sweaty nightmare.
Besides, the hotel at Kiawah is beautiful, with squishy-soft beds, and a fabulous restaurant. Isn’t that what everyone looks for in a marathon?
by Lisa Rosen on August 27, 2010
At the risk of losing all my locavore credibility, let me just say–Hatch chiles are here! Yippee!
I don’t know what kind of magic is in the air/soil/water in Hatch, New Mexico, but they grow some mighty fine chiles. Some are mild, some are hot, but they have this distinctive flavor, especially when roasted, that is completely addictive. I finished up my last-year’s stash several months ago, and I’ve been having some serious cravings. Finally–relief!
I buy them in bulk during the brief (usually about 2 weeks) time that I can get them around here, roast them on the grill (till they’re nice and charred), pick off the skins, and freeze them whole. Then I can have a little hit of Hatch-y goodness anytime I want.
Usually scrambled with 2 eggs, on a corn tortilla, and topped with a sprinkle of monterey jack.
That, my friends, is the lunch of happiness.
Check your local Whole Foods, but do it soon–they won’t last long. If you don’t live near a Whole Foods, you have my deepest sympathy. Perhaps you should consider moving . . .
(After they’re peeled, lay them out on a parchment-lined baking sheet, not touching each other, and put the sheet in the freezer. When they’re frozen solid, peel them off the parchment and put in a large ziploc. They’ll keep months that way–or until you eat them all.)
by Lisa Rosen on August 26, 2010
Back when I first started this blog–back in the dark ages (y’know–last year)–I wrote a post commemorating my love for my kitchen scale. I still have an undying passion for my kitchen scale, but that one that I wrote about before? Well, I’m sad to say we had to put it out to pasture. Its poor little buttons were cracking and peeling and sluggish. It just couldn’t stand up to the daily rigors of life in my kitchen.
So, fickle strumpet that I am, I REPLACED it. Adding insult to injury, I even got a fancy new model with more bells and whistles. This is my new lovely.
I love that the weighing surface is larger–big enough to hold a mixing bowl, or a handful of spinach linguine, without bits hanging over the edge (I worry that those bits aren’t getting weighed accurately; these are the things that worry me). I love that I don’t have to mash the tare button so hard my finger hurts in order to get the thing to reset. I love that it will translate volume for me.*
But mostly, I love that it measures down to the gram. 8 grams of yeast? 13 grams of salt? 267 grams of sugar? No problem.
We’ve had the thing for a couple of months now, and I still giggle every time I measure out some odd quantity like that.
You know how your third grade teacher insisted you had to know how to estimate? Guess what: she was wrong!
Accuracy is good.
*The volume function is cool. Say you need 3/4 cup of sugar. You get the code for sugar (the list of codes comes with the instructions, on a handy laminated card), put that code into the machine, and pour until the screen indicates that you’ve reached 3/4 cup. My days of jotting down weight translations in the margins of all my recipes are over!
