A Serious Addiction

Hello. My name is, and I'm addicted to National Public Radio.

Approximately two months ago the CD player in my car broke. I truly was upset. I didn't really listen to music in the car, either on the radio or on my CDs. But because I have a long commute each day, I had started listening to audio books. The library was my best friend. I had finished one by an author I had never heard of, and found I really paid attention to the language and nuances of dialogue when listening to a book being read aloud. And I'd also almost finished Jodi Piccoult's entire library. Ear candy to be sure, but because she wrote her books in first person "parts," they lent themselves well to the medium. It was fun to escape into rich language, similes, and a wild story on my way to work.  A reason to be excited for the drive to, ugh, work.

So with the CD player broken and no method of real entertainment, I turned on the radio. Talk about disappointing. It's happened. I'm old. The station that my son listens to is hideous. Loud and obnoxious. If that is new, popular music these days, I'll stick to my three favorite artists and rotate through their CDs until I'm bored. The "oldies" station (meaning eighties) doesn't play Depeche Mode or Crowded House. It plays Twisted Sister and Metallica. Then there's country and the "easy listening" station, which I'm sad to say, is the station that most closely resembles my taste.  When did I become my mom?

So I don't listen to any of them. 

I had always known about and listened to npr, but more passively and on shorter drives.  Sometime in Novemeber that changed. I turned that dial to 90.1 FM, Colorado Public Radio, and it hasn't moved.  In the morning I catch the tail end of Morning Edition, followed by Fresh Air. On the way home I listen to All Things Considered.   Weekends? Well if there isn't a human interest story or news, I'm sure to catch "Prarie Home Companion" or "E Town," "Car Talk" or "Wait Wait Don't Tell Me"... or any number of amazing programs.

I knew my addiction had reached epic proportion when:

• I consistently knew all the stories on NBC Nightly News BEFORE Brian Willams reported them.
• I found almost all my conversation with my husband being punctuated with something like, "I know. I heard that on npr," or "Oh, on npr today..." or "Did you know that..."
• My husband saying, "You are only allowed to tell me one npr story today."
• The cross between a tender smile and annoyed smirk that hubby gave me when he told me, "The Cubs signed Kerry Wood," and I replied, "I know."
• When I asked if we were going to watch the State of the Union address, my husband said, "Why? I'm sure you will hear all about it tomorrow on npr."
• I had listened to stories on npr podcast and live stream only to find that they hadn't yet aired on our local npr station, thus I was hearing stories twice.

If you have not discovered npr, you must. Recently I listened to Trent Reznor talk about his Oscar for writing the score for "The Social Network" and the work he did on "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo." I listened to a program about the controversial new book on the Obamas directly from the author. I've listened to the creators of South Park on the musical "The Book of Mormon," heard interviews from members of national security organizations, and enjoyed quirky quips from Tina Fey. And so much more. I love the news. I love the way the news is reported. I love the human interest stories intermingled with the news. I love the arts and entertainament. It is wonderful to be connected to the world on a human, global level. Example? It is moving to hear about women making a difference in their villiages by using their natural resources to bottle and sell oil to tourists. What I listen to and learn is a  true example of learning  the "things I never knew I never knew."

Nevermind that my son told me that this made me a crypt keeper (ouch) since only old people listened to npr. I think what really makes me old is that I have no interest in commercial, teen radio. I believe npr makes me more inquisitive, more thoughtful, more interested and more interesting.  I am informed about our world, our nation, my state, and my town. I know about music and art regionally and globally. I know more about science and research, education, goverment, policy. I have an inside into books and movies, entertainment and the arts. And what's else, listening to npr is fun.

Listen to npr. Discover what you never knew you never knew.

Forgot to Add...

When  making the Blueberry Apple Bread, try tossing the apples with a little lemon juice and add a little lemon zest to the liquid ingredients. I did that tonight. Light and fresh. Yum.

Sugar, ah Honey Honey

Recent research has shown that our bodies do not distinguish among varying types of sugar. You may have heard this on a recent psa: Sugar is sugar. "Natural" or unprocessed sugars such as pure cane sugar, agave, or honey that companies tout as "better" for us (marketing anyone?) are metabolized and affect our bodies the exact same way that high fructose corn syrup and highly refined and processed sugars do/are. The same is true of the naturally occurring sugars in milk and fruit. Our bodies simply do not distinguish between naturally occurring sugars and processed sugars.
Our bodies and minds like sugar. Not only because we have sweet taste buds, but it makes us feel good. Through evolution we have been trained to be rewarded highly for finding and consuming sugar. It's no wonder we use terms of endearment like "honey," "sweetie," or "sugar." Because sugar is a carbohydrate, we are filled with that feeling of comfort, fullness, satisfaction. Think of Pooh and the honeypot. The universal symbol of comfort food, right? And we've all heard of how sugar releases endorphins, which is why chocolate makes us feel a tiny bit like we are in love.

Go sugar.
But here is something interesting. Some researchers claim that artificial sweeteners--the kind we get in Diet Coke, fat and sugar free yogurt, Crystal Light, or reduced sugar ice cream--can actual make us gain weight. In one study at Purdue one group of rats were fed yogurt with artificial sweetener while the other group were fed regular yogurt. The first group ate more and gained weight.  There is also some questions by some researchers with regards to sweeteners like Truvia, Stevia, Nutra Sweet, Equal, etc. Some state that these sweeteners are, in essence, no different than sugar. Just like there is no difference between how the body recognizes agave and table sugar, the body likewise views "fake" sugar in a similar way. Although there are no calories, the body shouts out "SUGAR!" to the brain, and it responds appropriately.

This is concerning to me.  To an absurd proportion, I am a Coke fiend. Not Dike Coke, but Coke. Like the 9 tsp. of sugar per can Coke. Ugh.

I HATE Diet Coke.  I really hate it. But I really need to find a substitute for the Coke dependency. Sure, it would be better for my overall health, but just from a vanity standpoint, I know I could probably get rid of my tiny tummy problem if I stopped with the Coke. And I am becoming increasingly concerned about my oral health. Diet Coke would be an excellent solution to these problems I think. But not if my body is not even going to acknowledge the sacrifice I'm making.

Oh well.  I guess I'll just have to drink water.

Had to Share

I know some of you have recipe blogs. Others of you have wildly delectable recipes committed to memory. No matter, I just happen to know that many of you are amazing cooks. As I post about favorite pasta, sandwiches, soups, whatnot, please feel free to share some of your "best of's" from your own personal treasures. Please do! Particularly if they are baked goods, desserts, or vegetarian. So in that spirit...

This is the most amazing bread. So moist, so delicious. I mean, it is wonderful. I was looking for something to do with the fresh blueberries in my fridge, but I didn't want a boring muffin or crumb-top coffee cake (no disrespect to crumb tops), and I didn't want to make something too sweet like a crumble, crisp, or pie. I found this recipe. It is my new favorite.

I recommend mixing all of the ingredients by hand so that the eggs are fluffy and nothing is over-mixed. Fold the fruits in gently. I really didn't change much of anything--just the amount of apple used (I used more) and the spices (again, I used a little more). If you want the original recipe and not the one here with my "revisions," let me know. 

And as for crumb toppings, this bread would be excellent with one.

Enjoy!

Blueberry Apple Bread
3 cup sifted flour

1 cup sugar
1 TBS. baking powder

1 tsp. salt

1/2 tsp. ground nutmeg
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
1/4 tsp. allspice

2 eggs, beaten

1 1/2 cup applesauce

1/4 cup melted butter

2 cup blueberries

1/4 cup flour

2 apples, peeled and chopped

Directions

Sift together 3 c.flour, sugar, baking powder, salt and spices.
Mix eggs, applesauce and melted butter.
Combine the two mixtures.
Toss blueberries with1/4 c. flour and fold into batter with apples.
Pour batter into two 8 1/6 x 4 1/2 x 2 1/2" loaf pans.
Bake in 350° oven 55 minutes or until done.
Cool for 10 minutes; then remove from pans.

Global Warming

On Thursday my husband pulled open the curtains, raised the blinds, and announced, "We're going for a hike." With only four days of winter vacation left, I was planning on enjoying the warmth of my down comforter and flannel pajamas round the clock.  The only good thing about winter is hibernation. Burrowing down in warm blankets in a warm bed in comfy warm clothes for a "long winter's nap." Waking up to eat something yummy or drink some hot chocolate or curl up with a movie or a book are about as active as it gets.

The forecast for Thursday, January 5, 2012 was sunny and a warm 57 degrees. In other words, it was March.

But hubby won, and we went for a "hike." Well, a walk.  I wasn't particularly interested in going into the state park and truly hiking in the mountains, so instead we just did a little jaunt around the Poudre River. Not very scenic, but it was a walk in the sun nonetheless.

Here's the thing: I am so out of shape it's disgusting. I mean, I knew that I had become pretty sedentary around Thanksgiving. I stopped working out and didn't do much of anything. Bare minimum to keep me going. I was sad because of the holidiays, I didn't really feel like going out for fun or for chores. I just kind of "tanked" if you will, and it's been sort of hard to get back in the swing of things. Well, not sort of hard. REALLY hard. But even armed with the knowledge that I needed to get back to the gym, move my butt off the couch and out of bed, I was not prepared for what happened after my walk. I had sore hamstrings and my knees were killing me.

Nothing screams "over forty and out of shape" like being taken down by a walk on a sunny day. And nothing is a bigger blow to the ego.

I wish I could say that that experience whipped me right into shape and I am a new person. Ha. Even now I am looking at the clock saying to myself, "Ah, it's too bad I'm missing that aerobics class," when I know darn well I am not a bit sorry about the aerobics class. I don't know what happened. I used to love working out and keeping my body healthy and in shape.  Now I have no motivation.  (BTW, if any of you gentle readers have ideas for getting and staying motivated, I'd love to hear them.)

The global warming trend continues, with today's high at about 48 degrees and increasing temps all weekend. I should go for a bike ride or seriously consider my husband's offer to go on a real hike. I mean, if summer is going to hit record highs I don't want to be in shirts where my lovely lunch-lady arms are apparent. Maybe that's my motivation.

Spoons

An idealist is one who, on noticing that a rose smells better than a cabbage, concludes that it will also make better soup."  H.L. Mencken 

I happen to like cabbage in my soup, and the best place to get soup on the quick is Spoons.

I've often said that I could live on a liquid (or semi-liquid) diet. I owe this largely to my love of Vitamin Water, smoothies, and soup.  Soup is the ultimate comfort food, and I associate it with friends and good memories.

Case in point: Recently I met a dear friend of mine at Spoons for lunch.  We went against the grain and ordered salads instead of soup; still delicious. In fact, it was a nice little break. And besides, where else can you get a salad and a drink for just over four bucks? But the point is we sat and took two hours to eat our salads while we caught up, laughed, cried, remembered why we are friends, and kicked ourselves for not getting together sooner--and more often.

Spoons is THE place to go for soup in FoCo. They mix up pretty good salads too, and even try their hands at sandwiches. But I don't go out of my way for their sandwiches. It's the soup.  Mac 'n' cheese soup. Vegetarian split pea. Harvest winter vegetable. Green chile cheddar with 90 Shilling.  Rosemary potato. And for you meat lovers, you can order up good old fashioned stews or mom's chicken noodle. It's wonderful to live in a college town and a green-friendly town.  You can always count on Spoons to have vegetarian, dairy free, and gluten free options. For about six bucks you can get a generous cup of soup, homemade foccacia bread, and a soda.

I don't know why it is, but soup is the ultimate comfort food. A long day, a case of the sniffles, dreadfully cold outside, nothing seems to soothe like a hot cup of soup. Maybe this is because we are taken back to our childhoods when mothers served us piping hot bowls of chicken noodle soup to comfort our aching heads and sore throats, or to warm us up after a day of snowman building. Soup represents caretaking at its best, and reminds us of our first, most wonderful experience of unconditional love.

Beethoven claimed that "Whoever tells a lie cannot be pure in heart--and only the pure in heart can make good soup." This is certainly true of mothers. Whether that noodle soup was Lipton, Campbells, or homemade, nothing was as good as a warm cup of soup.

I'm sure on some level these sort of memories are embedded in my brain,  in my soul, in my whole being, and that's why I love connecting with friends over warm soup and bread.  It  never fails that our conversations run the entire gauntlet of emotions, and eating takes almost three hours. And naturally when you part, you feel better than you did when you arrived.  That is comfort food.

Lotsa Pasta

Today my daughter called to ask for my help about adjusting a recipe. I loved it! After some discussion we decided it would be too much work (not to mention a trip to the grocery store) to modify the original, so I gave her a few pointers about cooking a quick alfredo with chicken sauteed in butter and pepper, and I "taught" her how to trim and cook an artichoke.

Then we talked for an hour. 

It was truly the highlight of my day. I love talking to my daughter, and now that she is married, working and a senior in college, it is really rare that we get an uninterrupted block of time to just chat. She is so fun and smart. I love hearing about her life and the goings-on of her days. I love her stories. Every time we talk I think, "We should do that more often," and then of course life gets in the way. I do miss her being close, and it is my secret (or not-so-secret???) wish that she will live closer when she and her husband finish grad school and start their family. I will be an AMAZING mimi.  (That tearm of endearment is just for you, S.) Really.  I will bake and bake and bake. I will babysit at the drop of a hat. I will take the little ones to places like the zoo or museums and movies and science centers. I will let them conduct science experiments in my house and finger paint with pudding. We will have sleep-overs and watch lots of Disney movies or whatever PBS cartoon is "in" at the moment. I will take them to the park or swimming in the summer and sledding in the winter. 

And I will let them throw spaghetti on the wall to test its done-ness. 

Right.  Back to the pasta.

For the perfect bowl of pasta you have to go to Enzio's. When we go I always get the same thing--Chicken Rosmarino, without the chicken.  Penne pasta with shallots, capers, artichoke hearts, rosemary, roma tomatoes, and a dijon gorgonzola cream sauce. They serve it to you in a huge bowl, like perhaps the size of one of your serving dishes at home. And it's so good you probably want to eat the whole thing at once.  Be prepared to be wheeled out of the restaurant.

Their Caprese is excellent, as is the Margherita Pizza. Oh, and their Tiramisu is amazing.  In fact, the last time we ate at Enzio's I intentionally boxed most of my pasta so I would have room for Tiramisu. A whole one. All by myself. 

But there is no denying that for me, the reason to go to Enzio's is the Rosmarino pasta. It is soooo good. And while I may try to throw some noodles and artichoke hearts together with some butter and cheese, nothing will ever taste as good as what they create there.