Mindful Meals – Page 10

An Apple a Day

Posted on May 26, 2009 by Lia Huber — No Comments ↓

I tend to have three types of encounters with fruit. One is the almost soundtrack-worthy experience of eating a ripe plum or peach straight from the tree as ambrosial juices dribble down my chin. Another is facing down bowls of shiny apples at a Starbucks thinking “I should eat this,” yet knowing that it’ll be like biting into Styrofoam. The third, when I’m at my local organic market, is akin to browsing the bins at a vintage music shop, feeling the pressure rise as I try to remember what, exactly, I like. Some people are naturals in those situations, I’m not.

Needless to say, fruit and I have a complicated relationship and, as a result, I don’t tend to reach for it when my stomach rumbles. But last week, help literally arrived on my doorstep in the form of a box from The FruitGuys. The FruitGuys source local (mostly), organic (when specified) fruit for weekly delivery to offices around the country. For me in California, that translated into a box brimming with oranges large and small, several shades of apples and pears, and even an avocado. And I’ve got to tell you, I’ve eaten a lot of fruit this past week. Happily.

Try these 4 steps to work more fruit into your meals>

I’m finding a lot of my new-found enjoyment has to do with seasonality and curiosity. When a fruit is grown locally, it’s picked at the peak of its flavor; its purpose in life is more about titillating your tastebuds than surviving a cross-continent trek and you can tell as soon as you bite into it. I also find that when I approach fruit from a place of curiosity, it’s not such a big deal if I don’t remember the details the next time around. Fruit is sort of like wine in that way; part of the pleasure comes from the trying and retrying itself.

But the best thing is . . . now I actually look forward to raiding the fruit drawer.

So following that “apple a day” advice is easy — when it’s a good apple.

This week, join me in eating at least one piece of fruit a day–preferably seasonal–whether in a salad, from the fruit drawer, or even plucked straight from the tree. And yes, the strawberries in the crostata count.

Take Your Time

Posted on May 26, 2009 by Lia Huber — No Comments ↓

When I have back-to-back trips, as I have the past few weeks, I start to feel like I’ve barely gotten one foot in the door before I have to pack up and head out again. It can leave me feeling hectic. It can make me feel perpetually rushed. I find that when I get into overdrive like that I need to be very deliberate about slowing down and re-calibrating, and mealtime is the perfect opportunity to do so.

It takes concentration to stop from whizzing through the meal at first. I think about each bite as I assemble it on my fork. Occasionally, I even put my fork down altogether to really listen to what my husband is saying across the table or, if I’m alone, watch the hummingbird hover outside the window or inhale the scent of my neighbors’ orange blossoms. At first, the individual actions can feel plodding and exaggerated. But as the days wear on, I begin to feel like my feet are touching earth again, like my breath is reaching my fingertips again. It feels so good I wonder how I could ever have let myself become otherwise.

This week, I challenge you to slow down and take twice as long to eat as you normally do. Start out with a baseline by timing how long it takes you to eat dinner tonight–from plates down to plates up. Then, for the rest of the week, set the kitchen timer for twice that amount at mealtime. At first, it may feel like an eternity. But notice the effect it has on you–what you eat, how you go about your meals, how you feel, and even what you choose to make for dinner–throughout the week. It’s a great chance to catch your breath before the rush of summer is upon us.

Have a Social Hour

Posted on May 26, 2009 by Lia Huber — 1 Comment ↓

All the way through early summer, peas and favas are at the market. Now some will look at those piles of pods, shake their heads and think “too much work,” and I’m the first to agree that frozen peas can be a saving grace on a busy weeknight. But there’s another way, too, to view the labor-intensive process of prepping spring produce–as a treat in and of itself to be relished rather than rushed. It’s a mindful eating practice in the form of sharing the prep work.

Maybe it’s the communal bowl set out to catch the fruits of your labor. Maybe it’s the tactile act of nudging peas out of their pods, popping favas out of their skins, whittling baby artichokes into edible wonders. Whatever it is, something clicks to allow conversation to unfurl at its own speed, to let strands of thought unspool silently in our minds without feeling the need to speak out loud.

Most people, I’ve found, have sepia-tinted memories of sitting on a sunny stoop with someone–a child, a grandparent–with a bowl between them. Just yesterday, my mom and I were shelling favas for our Easter meal when she shared a memory of shelling peas with her mother–a moment I’m sure I’ll recount to my own daughter a month, a year, a decade from now. It’s a timeless act that, amidst this busy world, people tend to tuck away and cherish deep in their hearts.

And I haven’t even mentioned the joy these little gems bring to the plate.

So for one meal this week have a few friends over, wrangle the kids together, invite your spouse to sit for a spell and prep some seasonal produce . . . all the better if you have a sunny day and a stoop.

Celebrate!

Posted on May 26, 2009 by Lia Huber — No Comments ↓

It all started with a box of salt cod I bought on a whim on Friday. I know it’s an odd ingredient, but salt cod reminds me of Greece. And I’d just finished the (hopefully final) edits on my novel (that alone is a good reason to celebrate), which is partially set in Greece. And thinking of salt cod and Greece made me think of the feasts we used to have there–tables groaning with food. So on Saturday, I began shredding the fish and my husband started making calls, and by 8:00 we had a festive crew nibbling on fried salt cod fritters with skordalia (kind of like super-garlicky mashed potatoes beaten with olive oil), vinegary beet salad, charred lamb chops and the pungent yogurt dip called tzatziki.

Now, nutritionists might thumb their noses at our feast and, divided up into grams of fat and sodium, they’d be right to do so. Lord knows, I’ve spent most of my life feeling guilty about living it up after decades of diet indoctrination. But I truly believe that there’s a place for meals like these. Rick Bayless, in his book Mexican Everyday, talks about how occasional celebrations are a natural balance to everyday moderation; “No one ever got fat on a weekly feast, but missing that feast can leave you with strong cravings (both physical and spiritual) all week long.”

I agree. Along wigh moderation, celebration is a foundation of a mindful eating practice. So I went into this weekend with eyes wide open, trusting that Sunday through Friday I would eat simply and wholesomely, that this celebration was yang to the more restrained weekday yin, and that I needed both to remain balanced. And I’ll tell you, what a world of difference it makes entering a Monday feeling fulfilled rather than remorseful.

So this week (or next if you’re not into spontaneity), I challenge you to have a feast. Make a roast, bake a cake, revel in the meal and the company. The one ingredient you’re not allowed to include? Guilt.

Take a Trip

Posted on May 26, 2009 by Lia Huber — No Comments ↓

Figuratively speaking, anyway. When my wanderlust wants to whisk me away but I don’t have the time (or budget) to climb on board I turn to my cookbooks for escape. Do I feel like going to India with a simple lentil dal or is it off to Thailand tonight? Am I craving a visit to my favorite Parisian bistro or would I rather the rambunctiousness of a Roman trattoria?

Food can take us places we’ve never been or bring us back to places rich with memories. So think about your meals this week not just in the context of what food you’ll be putting on your plate. Factor in whether you’re feeling adventurous or nostalgic–or even a little of both–and let your meals take you where you want to go.

Savor One Thing at Each Meal this Week

Posted on May 26, 2009 by Lia Huber — No Comments ↓

Here’s your mindful eating practice exercise for this week: At every meal, savor one thing. I mean really, truly tune in. It could be the sharp, lemony aroma of cilantro in a salsa. It might be the way a tannic red wine grips you at the back of the throat. It may be the way your daughter squishes her face up as she chews her broccoli. Whatever it is you choose to notice, I promise it will take zero extra time out of your day. Yet it will have a profound impact on how you feel walking away from that meal.

Jay Dixit writes in a Psychology Today article, “When subjects in a study took a few minutes each day to actively savor something they usually hurried through . . . they began experiencing more joy, happiness, and other positive emotions.” In my own life, I’ve found that locking on to a particular moment is like boring a well into my soul’s memory. Amidst a blur of activity, my thoughts become more and more concentrated until they hit the roomy, spacious place of connection. It is there that I feel wholly nourished. And while the moment itself may only last a few seconds, the experience–senses, emotions, thoughts–is engraved so deeply that I can dip into it and be replenished whenever I choose.

Savoring the moment is one of life’s great conundrums: it sounds so easy and yet takes such deliberate effort. I urge you to give it a try this week, though–with this arugula pesto if it tickles your fancy–and see how it nourishes you.

Eat Half of What You Normally Do

Posted on May 26, 2009 by Lia Huber — No Comments ↓

This sounds radical, I know. But the truth is, most of us eat too much, albeit unwittingly. At a recent conference I attended–with an audience full of food service providers–most people had no idea how many calories an average person needed in a day (the answer is 2,000). And when we don’t know how much we should be eating, we’ll often just eat what’s put in front of us . . . even if it’s more than we need.

So for the next week, if you usually eat a bagel in the morning, bag half for the next day. If you eat a tuna sandwich for lunch, split it with a friend instead. Note both your weight and how you feel throughout the week–both physically and emotionally. Note, too, what you tend to compensate with if you do get hungry . . . but remember, whether it’s a bag of chips or an apple, only eat half of what you normally do!

Try Something Totally New

Posted on May 26, 2009 by Lia Huber — No Comments ↓

Stand on one foot while tossing a salad, experiment with a new spice, try a new preparation of an old stand-by. Sometimes we get so–well, let’s call a spade a spade–bored with the same-old routine in the kitchen that we end up barreling mindlessly through a meal. No big deal, you say? Hardly. Studies show that we eat more when we’re not paying attention . . . and just as bad, if what’s at the end of our forks doesn’t even register on our radar, we’re probably not going to walk away from the table satisfied.

So this week’s “nibble to noodle” is all about bringing a renewed sense of wonder and whimsy to mealtime. To get you started, here’s a recipe that puts a new spin on the usual poultry . . . with a sweet-tart glaze that’s just in time for Valentine’s.

Plant Something

Posted on May 26, 2009 by Lia Huber — 1 Comment ↓

I was interviewed recently for Natural Solutions magazine on whether gardening affects the way I eat. My answer? You betcha. Sure, a garden gets you the freshest of vegetables and taste alone would be reason to start one–there’s nothing like an heirloom tomato still warm from the sun; even lettuce has a ridiculous amount of flavor when it goes from backyard bed into the bowl. But there are bonuses with gardening that go much, much deeper.

When you finally pick that heirloom tomato, you’re not just tasting the tomato. You’re experiencing the excitement you felt when the first flowers gave way to tiny green globes. You’re reliving the anticipation of inspecting it day after day wondering when it was going to be ripe enough to eat. You’re feeling that sense of joyful peace that comes from witnessing a miracle of nature. All this in a tomato.

It doesn’t take acres to reap the rewards of growing your own food; a sprig of thyme snipped from a pot on the windowsill will transform even the most humble of dishes. The simple truth is that when you grow an eggplant or a cucumber or a bunch of mint you are connected–literally and viscerally–to it, so that the phrase “eat more vegetables” is turned from drudgery into luxury.

This week, I challenge you to plant something to nibble on this summer. If you’re already an experienced gardener, expand your territory and try something new (I just planted lemon verbena for the first time). If you’re an apartment dweller, try some potted herbs on the windowsill or a cherry tomato in a rooftop container. As your project takes root, I look forward to hearing how it affects the way you eat.