Dragging

My focus and energy have been dragging since about Sunday, not to mention my less-than-stellar mood.  I’m starting to wonder if it’s perhaps because my nutrition has taken a small dip this week– starting with a single piece of coffee cake at a cafe, and progressing into the replacement of my normal morning cereal with a very delicious, though nutritionally devoid, pecan coffee cake (Doc and) I made Sunday morning. That, of course, has snowballed into daily chai lattes and vegan chocolate chip cookies. Plus, I’ve neglected to take my vitamins this last week or so… oh, and did I mention that I ran out of decaf coffee last week, and so had a couple of cups of caffeine? I wonder if I’m suffering the fallout of that?

I’m cat-sitting for my advisor this week, and I never feel entirely comfortable in other peoples’ kitchens (including my mother’s kitchen). So, I haven’t been cooking as much, instead resorting to leftovers and more-convenient (though not “convenience”!) foods like crackers and cheese, and pitas and hummus. And coffee cake.

Ugh. Why do I let this happen? I know I’ll feel like crap if I eat like crap! Stupid stupid stupid lazy lazy lazy.

I need to find a way around this, actually.  Every time I go to the field, I end up either 1) gaining an obscene amount of weight (along the lines of 30 lbs), 2) losing an obscene amount of weight (along the lines of 20 lbs), or 3) suffering from general digestive discomfort (thanks to a near- complete lack of vegetables in my diet).  Or some combination of the above.  All of this in turn leads to and reinforces an already present depression or moodiness (hey! a structuring structure!).  Needless to say, not my most productive state.

The worst of it is, if I’m already homesick/ depressed, I really won’t give a sh*t about eating well.  And then it just forms a vicious cycle.

So, two questions: how do I avoid laziness at home, knowing full well that my mood and state of mind are closely tied to what I eat? and: how do I maintain a decent level of nutrition if I’m living with a family that subsists on tortillas, white rice, and beans (and noting that bringing my own food is absolutely not an option)?

Haybales

It was gorgeous out today, and I had the camera out. I totally should have snapped some pictures of the garden, and posted a little update. Perhaps tomorrow (even though it’s supposed to rain).

Instead, I took pictures of haybales. Round haybales, to be precise.

A normal person might ask me “why?” Why indeed.  Well, it’s a long story. Let me shorten it.

My mother asked for one thing for Christmas. A picture of a haybale, preferably black and white, to go above the fireplace.  The catch(es)? I had to take the picture, and it had to be a round haybale.  I’ll cut the drama and just tell you than I failed miserably.  My mother was not thrilled.

Tomorrow is her birthday.  51. I was not home for 50. I think I may have failed pretty miserably at whatever gift I gave her for 50. So I spent my afternoon searching out round haybales. I found them.  The results are below.

My question for you, then, dear readers (of which I think I can count on three. You know who you are.) is: Which photo should I get printed, all nice and professional-like at Foto-One, for my mother’s birthday? Keep in mind these things: 1) she will mat it and frame it so that it is square, 2) it will go above a stone fireplace mantel, 3) the frame will be wide and black (she and I have similar aesthetic senses when it comes to framing), and 4) she requested black and white (but i kinda like the tri-color one). Respond in the comments section, plz.

Oh, I’ve been digging the Flash-Animation Gallery builder on Lightroom lately, ever since I re-did my portfolio for a grant. Hence, the Flash-Animation gallery of the haybales.  When voting, plz use their number (i.e. 1/4, 2/4, 3/4, 4/4). Thx!!!

Also note: if you’re typing in the following URL, it’s case-sensitive.

http://www-personal.umich.edu/~kfultz/Haybales

Localism

My roommate came home from brunch two weeks ago looking decidedly troubled. She had gone to eat with her, um, Friend (also my friend, with a little ‘f’, to whom I introduced her) at a local/organic foods “breakfast club” held at an acquaintance’s house a few blocks away.

“It was like being at a cult meeting!” She had exclaimed to me.  “These people [pause for emphasis] are in a cult!”

We have had somewhat heated debates, sometimes tongue-in-cheek sparrings over what a certain sociologist actually means by “common sense knowledge” (yeah, we’re dorks), but lately we’ve been quabbling over localism in relation to our shared class on “Consumption.”

My roommate’s argument is that localism, like any other set of beliefs, is just that. It’s a system of values just like thrift, religion, or pacifism.  It happens to drive consumptive practices in certain spheres.  And yes, like in every value system, there are hypocrites.

I really don’t argue with her there. I’m totally aware of the constructed-ness of localism as a value system.  And yeah, it happens to be a value system that I ascribe to myself.  What I don’t understand, though, is why it bugs her so much and why, for example, religion does not.  I understand that she might feel like she’s at a cult meeting during brunch or at the Farmers’ Market, but I feel like I’m at a cult meeting during church services.  She says it’s the self-righteousness of locavores (those that eat local food).  Clearly she has not had a nice long discussion on morality and religion with my aunt.  Different strokes for different folks.

Maybe I took a big glug of the Koolaide, though. Or make that “locally roasted, fair-trade, organic coffee.”

So I dragged my Friend (in town for spring break) out of bed early on a Friday (okay, technically, he dragged me out of bed because I kept hitting snooze on the alarm, which is a pet peeve of his. tee hee hee.) to go with my friend (who is my roommate’s Friend… get it?) to this dude’s house to have brunch made by a guest-local chef.  My roommate stayed cozy in her bed.

This whole thing started about a month ago with a fundraiser for the Farmers’ Market and Slow Foods Huron Valley.  It was apparently so much fun, that this dude (I’m going to keep referring to him as that) decided to hold brunch every week.  He named it “Café Selma” and posts a sign out in his front yard on Friday mornings to let his neighbors and passers-by know to come on over.

The menu and chef change every week, and the staff is all volunteer.  This week, the chef was the owner of Arbor Teas (http://www.arborteas.com/), a locally-owned organic tea distributor.  The menu included an omelete made with eggs from chickens in the dude’s backyard, mushrooms, cheese, and my friend’s greens (www.brinesfarm.org); waffles and fruit; and homemade granola and yogurt.  I know that following my usual eating-out policy, I should have gotten the waffles (because I don’t have a waffle iron at home and so can’t make waffles). But the omelete looked really good, and we all know that I’ve been on an omelete kick lately.

I also (drumroll please) had a cup of regular coffee, because they didn’t have decaf. Make that two cups of coffee. I am now hallucinating and twitching.  No, I won’t resume that habit; it was a treat and helped to get me perked up for what will be a pretty solid day (1pm-10pm run run run).

The crowd was mostly late 30s, 40s, and early 50s… my Friend and I were definitely the youngest ones there (and my friend referred to some local roasters as “28-year-old kids”, which made me feel like a baby!).  The demographic was about what you’d expect for Ann Arbor.  White, highly educated, working in the creative or intellectual industries.  Able to take Friday morning off from work.

I chatted with the folks that sat at the table with us (most of the others were on the couch or at the counter in the dude’s gorgeous kitchen) about anthropology, and they asked me if I was working for the government.  Didn’t know quite how to reply to that… I got the feeling that “the goverment” were “good guys” for these folks.  Granted, they’re not “bad guys” for me, but they’re definitely not “good guys” either. Hm. Hard to know what to say when your political leanings don’t quite jive with mainstream democrats, but there’s no other way to describe them.

The food was quite tasty.  A real treat was the home-cured ham in the omelete; I almost never eat pork, but this was really delicious.  My Friend also happens to be a fan of pork, and we got the low-down on how the dude had cured the ham.  He has quite the set-up in his basement.  We also got to sample some of his proscuttio, which I (uncultured as I am) had never tried before. Quite tasty.

Payment was by “donation only,” which really meant that in order to not appear as a total jerk, you had to donate something.  We ended up paying about $10 each (which was “suggested”).

I’m still digesting (um, literally and figuratively) the whole experience in relation to my roommate’s critiques, and in relation to this class on Consumption I’m currently in.  The critiques in regards to class and values are on the mark and relevant, but I don’t know if that justifies passing judgement on localism as a value system.  Of course its flawed, but so is any other set of beliefs, and no one is value-free.  What to do?  I think I’ll go again next week.

Munchies

It’s been a looong week. Partially it’s just because it’s the week after spring break, and the week after any break is always tough.  The week after a really fun break spent with someone you don’t get to see very often, and wish you spent more time with, is even worse. (But that’s okay, because that someone is coming here for his break tomorrow!!!)

There’s also the stress of applying for summer funding, working on human-subjects ethics applications, and the usual weekly reading load. And its tax season.  Add to all that that one of my closest friends has abruptly stopped being… well… friendly towards me.  I don’t know what’s going on, but I wish they’d talk to me.

Anyway, I get to justify a little stress-eating.

My mom was visiting this weekend, and we made a delicious batch of homemade hummus.  Unfortunately, I polished off all of my crackers and still have more than half a container of hummus left. Oh, darn.  I swiped two pieces of roomie’s bread last night (shhh, don’t tell!), but felt guilty doing that again today.  And my food budget is done for the week.

So what did I do?

I made my own crackers! Seriously, these are the easiest things in the world.  I whipped them together after doing my taxes AND having a glass of wine, at 11 o’clock at night. Yes, those last three things are concurrent (taxes, wine, 11 pm).

I got this recipe from Bittman– there’s a reason he’s called the Minimalist! (From How to Cook Everything Vegetarian)

Basically: Preheat oven to 400 degrees.  Dump 1 cup flour (any kind– I used a mixture of whole wheat pastry and whole wheat) into the food processor. Sprinkle on a liberal pinch of salt. Add two tablespoons oil (any kind– I used grapeseed, but you could also use melted butter or olive or almond, etc etc etc). Process. Add 1/4 cup water. Process. Continue to add water until a soft ball has formed– not sticky, though.  If it gets sticky, add a bit more flour.  Roll out on a lightly-floured surface, to about 1/4 inch or thinner. I sprinkled sea salt on top and gently pressed it into the dough, just for added aesthetics.  Carefully transfer to a cookie sheet, pop in the oven for about 10 min, or until the sheet turns a golden brown.  Let cool a bit, and break into pieces.  I went for “rustic” shapes, but if you feel the need to eat absolutely square crackers, score the dough with a sharp knife before baking.

Oh look! I have pictures!

Okay, so, the colors (and lighting) aren’t so appetizing… but you get the idea.  I actually like the crispier edges the best… the thinner, the better when you roll them out.

And yes, I know hummus should really be served with soft flatbread, and that certain people will be annoyed/ appalled that I eat it with things like crackers and toast.

To that I say, Nom nom nom.

Pine Nuts: A Proposal

Abstract
This paper recognizes the inherent deliciousness and nutritiousness of pine nuts. Their deliciousness and nutritiousness is recognized both by the flavor they impart in dishes, and by their nutritional profile. Acknowledging these two qualities, I will seek to incorporate pine nuts into every feasible dish, until my supply runs out. I then propose to purchase more of them.

Background

When I visited my mom up north earlier this month (or at the end of January, to be more correct), we made scrumptious butternut squash, goat cheese, and sage ravioli (whole wheat pasta).  In my previously successful ravioli-making endeavors, I served such ravioli with a garlicy tomato sauce; I found the flavors of the tomatoes to be an interesting complement to the flavor of the squash.  My mother doubted this combination, however, and suggested we find another sauce to use.

Flipping through Mark Bittman’s How to Cook Everything Vegetarian, I came accross a recipe for a “rustic pine nut sauce.”  Pine nuts are mild in flavor, with a slight buttery texture.  I often toast them and put them with pasta or on top of pizza.  Nevertheless, I had yet to make a sauce out of them.

My variation on the sauce involved roughly chopping one cup of pine nuts, toasting them in olive oil and garlic with an equal portion of bread crumbs, adding spinach, a half a cup of dry white wine, and a touch of water. I then simmered all this until the liquid had been absorbed; finally, I sprinkled a very liberal amount of parmesan cheese over the top.

The sauce was delicious. It went nicely with the scrumptious ravioli, but in fact, we found that it was scrum-diddly-umptious all on its own.  I finished the leftovers.  I was lucky that the pine nut has such an impressive nutritional profile, through which I was able to glean an astounding number of vital nutrients, including Lucine.

Proposal

Following the success of my rustic pine nut sauce adaptation, I propose to add pine nuts to every feasible dish.  By the term “feasible dish” I mean including, but not limited to: pasta, pizza, omelets, ice cream, granola, soup, bread, cupcakes, cookies, sandwhiches, chili, casseroles, rice and beans, enchiladas, Trader Joe’s Frozen Burritos*, sautéed vegetables, dried fruit, GORP, oatmeal, crackers and cheese, tuna, roast chicken, pancakes, and french toast.  In short, anything edible.

I predict that, with the addition of pine nuts, the flavor and nutritional value of each of these dishes will be vastly improved.  The exceptions to this prediction, that will prove the rule, are Trader Joe’s Frozen Burritos (whose perfection cannot be improved upon) and french toast (commonly held by all to be the Best Breakfast in the Universe).  These dishes, however, already far surpass any other food in deliciousness and nutritiousness; thus, I find them to be the rare cases in which adding pine nuts would serve no benefit.

Methods

I will chop, grind, smush, and smash pine nuts in order to incorporate them into my proposed dishes.  I will toast them occasionally, and sometimes I will throw them in whole and raw.  By utilizing a range of methods I will provide dishes with a variety of textures and aesthetic qualities.  It is further predicted that the method might influence the overall appeal of the final dish; thus, I may find it necessary to adjust my methods as time progresses, based on cumulating results.

When my supply of pine nuts is diminished or eliminated, I will refresh them with new supplies purchased at the grocery store.

Conclusion

In conclusion, this proposal seeks to incorporate pine nuts into every feasible dish.  Their deliciousness and nutritiousness will improve the flavor and health quality of any dish to which they are an addition.  The exceptions here are dishes whose perfection cannot be improved upon; thus, pine nuts will not be added.  It is based on my history of delicious pine nut dishes that I make such predictions, and it is this background that makes me most suitable to continue such an experiment.

The End.

New Favorite Omelet

I am a big fan of eggs. They are super nutritious, über-versatile, and ultra tasty. However, I really only like them two ways: scrambled, or in an omelet. Basically, those are the same way, but in different forms (because you have to beat them first to get an omelet, ya know). In some contexts (for example, on a bun with avocado, onion, and a teeny bit of hot sauce– green, preferably) I like fried eggs, but I don’t like the yolks too runny. Once I had an egg over-easy (with bi bim bop), and it was pretty good, but I couldn’t think too hard about it. I OD’d on hard-boiled eggs as a kid (egg salad sandwiches, anyone?) and now absolutely cannot eat them. Except mushed into things. Ew.

Eggs are versatile, and will pair well with just about anything. When I say I have “eggs” in the morning, I don’t really mean just “eggs.” Usually I throw in some potatoes, onion, garlic, spinach, and whatever other veggies are in season. I brown all of those in some olive oil and then pour my beaten eggs on top. Scramble away.

Until exactly one day ago, my all-time favorite egg dish was a scramble (or frittata, basically just a baked scramble) with sweet potatoes, spinach, garlic, onion, and goat cheese. Dee-licious. See, I may like omelets, but I had yet to master the presentation.

Until now.

I don’t know what happened, but suddenly I am able to successfully turn and flip an omelet. Increased patience? Better spatula-skills? Sheer dumb luck?

So my new thing: a one-egg omelet (I get the local variety of big brown eggs… they’re big!) filled with onions, garlic, spinach, pine nuts, and parmesan cheese. It’s basically this pasta “sauce” that I made the other night, less the white wine and bread crumbs, wrapped in a blanket of egg-y goodness.

Sautée the onions, garlic, and pine nuts together until the onions are soft and the pine nuts are getting toasty. Salt. Pepper. Add the spinach and cook until wilted. Remove from pan. Add one well-beaten egg with just a splash of cream or milk to the pan. When the eggs lose their sheen on top, add the veg to one half. Sprinkle liberally with cheese. Gently fold the eggs in half, over the veg. Flip once, and serve. Mmm.

Cat on Books

Ginger Dragon

My roommate came home the other day raving about a drink at the “local”-ish coffee place (it’s only “local” because it’s about 500 yards from the anthropology building. It’s not locally-owned). It should be noted that this coffee place in fact serves absolutely disgusting coffee. It is not only weak, it is consistently burned. But, if you bring your own mug, it only costs $1.* So they get a good business (especially from predictably caffeine-addicted anthropologists). It gives me pleasure that they are no longer receiving my dollars now that I am not addicted to caffeine. But I digress.

The drink my roommate had tasted (yes, a mere sip warranted this kind of praise!) is called “Ginger Dragon” and consisted of lemons, ginger, and sugar. I decided I’d give it a try.

When I asked about it, the baristas (if you can call them that) insisted that I would feel “SO healthy” after drinking it. Uh, okay. Sure. I asked three times, three different ways, if there was any caffeine in it. No caffeine. Just health, pure and sparkling.

The drink was, in fact, delicious. It was tart and spicy and sweet, all at the same time. It warmed me from the inside out. I did, in fact, feel marginally healthier after drinking it. And… energized. At $2.50 a pop, however, I ran the risk of quickly finding myself bankrupted by this drink. Well, maybe not bankrupted, but significantly poorer.

So I stopped at the co-op on my way home and bought $3 worth of lemons and ginger. $3 got me three organic lemons and a solid chunk of root-matter. (I also had to buy some honey, because the “raw” stuff I had seems to be a little rancid— or fermented, or something, so that bumped the total up to $12).

After my delicious and nutritious dinner (and a complete protein, no less), I sliced one lemon and peeled and sliced about 2 inches of ginger. I stuck it in my saucepan (recently cleaned from my rice and beans) and filled it with water (about three inches over the lemon and ginger). I let it simmer gently until the lemons were falling apart, and then added 2 teaspoons of honey. To serve (and save) I strained it and poured it through a funnel into (first) a mason jar (to warm up during class tomorrow) and then my mug, which is sitting by my right hand this very moment.

Not bad! Not nearly as sweet as the coffee shop version (just how much sugar did they put *in* that?!), and perhaps a bit more gingery (I can feel the heat on my throat– sinuses are officially cleared!) but very perky and satisfying. And a heckuva lot cheaper than the original.

Yes, I realize that lemon-ginger infusions are really (REALLY) nothing new. I don’t care. This will help me through the 4-hour seminar marathon tomorrow night.

*People don’t realize that, just across the quad, is a locally-owned coffee shop that will fill your mug with *good* coffee for just $0.73. The guy who owns it was in my anthro senior seminar, and is applying to the PhD program this year, too.

Flake

Friday morning, I needed to run some errands. First, I had to go buy some cat food and lotion and tomato paste (they’re cheaper at the chi-chi store up the street than at the co-op). Well, actually, I’ve needed to buy cat food for about a week. Poor kitties have been eating the stuff they don’t like, that I had leftover from a while ago.

Anyway…

Then, I had to go rent snowshoes for the evening excursion with some friends out at Pinckney.

Since I was at the (fancier) store anyway, I decided to treat myself to some (decaf) coffee from their coffee bar. Then I grabbed a cart and went to get my items.

I became preoccupied by the lotion section. I set the coffee in my cart so I could better focus on the lotion bottles, and hold one in each hand for side-by-side comparison. Usually, I buy the “organic” stuff, except it’s about $10.50 and I didn’t want to spend that much. I took a second look at the ingredients, and realized that the only “organic” part of it was in fact the scent (lavender). And maybe the water? They put organic lavender in it, so they can call it organic. Sorry, not worth $10.

Looking at a few other brands, I tried to figure out if *any* of them did not use petroleum products. Then I realized that they were all in plastic bottles…

I compromised and bought the “natural” oatmeal lotion that also happened to be the cheapest. The ingredients on the back looked pretty typical, with the last half having names I could not pronounce. Oh, well.

Grabbed the cart and wandered over to the cat food.

I was caught off-guard by this guy standing at a little table in the middle of the aisle. “Ma’am, would you like to see our specials today? Lots of free stuff! Step right up!” He was really loud. And he called me “ma’am.” I veered around him and muttered a “no, thanks.” I didn’t think stores like this let those people set up shop in here…?

I found the tomato paste I was looking for (in a resealable tube!), but, when I went to place it in my cart, I realized something terrible had happened.

My coffee mug, neglected in the basket while I considered lotions, had turned on its side and spilled its contents. All over the cat food, and my reusable shopping bag. My mug was now half-full.

As I retraced my path with my eyes, I realized that it had in fact overturned some time ago. I had left a coffee-dribble-trail around half the store, forming puddles where I had paused.

I sheepishly ducked into the next aisle. No one had seen me.

I found the checkout counter with the shortest line. The cat food left a puddle of coffee on the conveyor belt. “I, uh, spilled some coffee over there…” I explained to the checkout guy. “Where?” He asked.

“Oh, um, in that aisle there,” I said, gesturing vaguely behind me.

Remembering my coupon for the cat food (another reason for coming to this store), I fumbled with my wallet. There was a handful of change caught up in the folded coupon, which I then proceeded to drop all over the conveyor belt. Nervous laugh.

I’m sure the checkout guy thought I was giggling because of him (he was about my age). I assure you, I was not. I was giggling like an idiot because I had just dribbled half the contents of my coffee mug around the store. The contents being my one cup of (decaf) coffee this week, and not the cheap variety either. I am a flake.

Aside from the aforementioned Coffee Incident, and then later losing one of my hubcaps at some point in my errand-running (damned $50-piece of plastic!), the day actually improved. How could it not?

Variations on a Theme

I was two dollars over my food budget this week (mostly because it was my turn to buy olive oil and dish soap for the house), and I couldn’t stop beating myself up for it. Oh well.

I managed to keep everything else pretty simple, though. The key ingredients this week were beans (pinto and red were leftover in my pantry, black and white that I bought) and canned tomatoes. I made both three-bean chili and marinara sauce, which ended up having almost exactly the same ingredients in each; the spices were what made them different. Amazingly, aside from the tomatoes and fresh veggies that went into these, I was able to use mostly pantry staples. Hooray! I love not having to buy a big bottle of [insert ingredient here] every time I go to the store– it’s nice to have commonly used non-perishables well-stocked.

Three Bean Chili (roughly based on the recipe from How to Cook Everything Vegetarian):
about a pound of mixed beans, soaked
one medium onion, chopped
three or four smallish carrots, chopped
three stalks of celery, chopped
three or four (or five) cloves of garlic, smushed
one 28 oz can of fire-roasted tomatoes, crushed
one 28 oz can of water (heh, a good way to get the last of the tomato out!)
chili powder to taste (I ground up three dried chiles de árbol)
three tablespoons of molasses
2 oz or so of chopped chocolate (60% dark or higher)
one cinnamon stick
salt and pepper to taste

1. Sautée the vegetables (less the tomatoes) until the onions are translucent and just starting to brown. Quite honestly, I just throw ‘em all in together, and they seem to come out fine (though cookbooks will tell you to *first* brown the onions, *then* add the garlic, *then* add the carrots and celery). Add the chili powder (you can always add more later), molasses, and chocolate.
2. Add can of tomatoes and another can-full of water. Add cinnamon stick. Bring to a boil; add beans and reduce to a simmer. Let simmer until the beans are soft (about 45 min- 1 hour or so, depending on how long you soaked them and how old they were to begin with).
3. Add salt and pepper to taste. Serve with shredded cheddar cheese (or not, if you’re vegan).

•••

Marinara sauce (which I served with polenta and white beans and chard. Mmm.):
about a pound of white beans, soaked
1 cup coarsely ground cornmeal
one bunch of chopped chard, kale, or collard greens

one medium onion, chopped
three or four smallish carrots, chopped
three stalks of celery, chopped
three or four (or five) cloves of garlic, smushed
one 28 oz can of tomatoes, crushed
1 tbs dried sweet basil
1/2 tbs dried thyme
1/2 tbs oregano
salt and pepper to taste

1. Boil water. Add beans. Cook until soft. (45 min.)
2. Sautée the vegetables (less the tomatoes) until the onions are translucent and just starting to brown. Quite honestly, I just throw ‘em all in together, and they seem to come out fine (though cookbooks will tell you to *first* brown the onions, *then* add the garlic, *then* add the carrots and celery) –> hmm, this looks familiar.
3. Add can of tomatoes, and maybe a tiny, tiny bit of water (depending on how thick you like your sauce) and the herbs. Simmer on super-duper low (barely even on) heat.
4. While the the previous two things are simmering, sautée up the chard with some olive oil. (5 min, tops).
5. Boil 2 cups of water and 1/4 cup of milk for every cup of polenta (cornmeal) you’re going to use. Add cornmeal to water/milk while stirring briskly with a wisk. Simmer gently until thick (5 min, tops).
6. To assemble: put a little of each (polenta, beans, chard, sauce) in a bowl. Shred lots of parmesan or asiago cheese over the top. Stir. Mmm.

Note: you can also use garbanzo bean flour instead of polenta, for a slightly creamier base. I just tried it– it’s pretty tasty.

•••

In other news:

I made some delicious granola bars. They’re a tad crumbly, though (I think I needed more coconut oil, molasses, and maple syrup. Next time).

Still no caffeine. Boo-ya.

If you want to follow my new (ahem) “training”, you can check out the motivational genius that is Dailymile, complete with colorful graphs!

There was something else I wanted to say, but now I forget.