In our house, the holidays were a mix of anticipation, sneaking, yelling, and a little bit of Mr. Clean. My brother and I, two years apart in age, discovered one year that the gifts our mom put under the tree weeks in advance could easily be snuck into without her knowledge. We got away with this for a few years, until we either bragged about it to our sister (who tattled), or mom discovered a slightly ripped corner or wrapping paper on one box. We were threatened with an end to all Christmas gifts (that we didn’t really believe), and we came to the conclusion that we really did like the surprise of the big morning, so we decided to knock it off. Besides, we always knew what we were getting each other- our dad would pick us up from school on the last day before holiday break, we’d go to Pizza Hut, then Wal Mart, armed with twenty bucks each. George and I would make a beeline for the music section, while Katie was escorted to the toys with our dad. We’d each pick out the cassette or cd we wanted, discuss, then go pick something for Katie.  And this was the truly fun part for me- my sister is seven years younger than me, so I would pick something we’d both like. She wound up with a nice selection of Polly Pockets this way.

The weeks of our break from school also involved our mom making us clean. She’ll deny it now (she swears we never did housework)  but I have the permanent dishpan hands to prove the contrary.  Once we moved to the house they currently live in, the cleaning became a mega event- my mom, tchotchke queen of the south, has more dust collectors than any one person should. We had to run the collectible dishes in the dishwasher, dust each little knick knack and tiny picture frame. This always seemed to take months, but it likely only took 12 hours. We’d shampoo carpet, move furniture, clean out nooks and crannies we didn’t know even existed, and at some point after dark, our mom would exclaim “well, I guess this is ok…this house @%$#^%$~^” It could never be clean enough. Of course, I think if she were in a white, padded, sterilized room all by herself, that wouldn’t be clean enough, either.  But the end of this day meant something we all enjoyed- putting up the tree.

Long ago (sometime in my third year I think), our parents decided that artificial was the way to go. So we always had a fake tree. And, sometime around my 16th or 17th year, our mom decided a 9 footer was the only one she’d want. Also, I decided to pack as many lights on it as I could, so I have been forever stuck with that task. This year, she’s getting a prelit tree, and I think those are the best invention since inventions were first invented. So we’d stay up, watching whichever holiday specials were on (I think the last one was the old “Frosty the Snowman” cartoon, one of my favorites), and we’d string lights, hook ornaments, and try not to pack the front of the tree with too many.

A couple of weeks would pass, we’d have our mom’s family’s party, usually around the 20th, and on the 23rd, my brother and I would find silly ways to celebrate our actual favorite holiday- Christmas Eve Eve. It mostly involved our hoping that the fireworks display at our Paw Paw’s would be even better than the year before’s, we’d walk around in the woods, and one year, it involved me and a few friends trying to climb a 20ft cement wall in a Bronco. Never again. I think the excitement of that day was that it meant Christmas Eve was still to come, and that the holiday season still held so much fun to be had. We could still watch our well worn VHS of Christmas cartoons that were only shown once during the 90’s, we could drink our fill of instant cocoa, and discuss what we thought we were getting.This day would pass, we’d spend Christmas Eve night at our grandparents’ (until 8 years ago, when our Paw Paw passed away, the holiday just isn’t the same without him around), and around 8 or 9, we’d go back home, and watch A Christmas Story, until our parents shooed us to bed.

Four a.m.  The footsteps began, creeping across the hall. My door opened, and a hissing “Chrisssty! Hey! Get up! It’s here!” Sometimes I’d bound out of bed, and we’d race down the hall. Others, I’d grumble about how early it was and roll over, which led to my covers being violently snatched away. Then I’d have to get up, and follow the bounding, Tigger-like brother to the living room, and watch as he inspected everything under the tree. One year, he thought the answer to his Christmas prayers had been answered- he wanted a four wheeler for as long as I can recall. And every year, he’d be so sure he was getting it, finally, and then, it never came. One year, our parents, holiday pranksters they are, decided to have fun with this. They typed a return label on the back of an index card, from the “Honda Corporation,” and taped it to a box the size of a small fruit crate. He saw this, and starting going “Honda?!? Honda!!!” Our dad, going unnoticed on the couch, ordered us back to bed. Around 6, he bounded back across the hall (as he also did every year), and we would each grab an afghan, and take our seats, me staring at the tree and lights, he salivating over “finally” getting his ATV. Sometime around 7, the rest of the family would wake, and we’d have to fix coffee for our mom, and then situate for the gift passing.

Now, as far as the four wheeler goes, Katie and I were in on the joke. We kept this secret for weeks, waiting for the day when we’d get to see his eyes bug out of his head, and then the confusion we all knew was coming. He was handed the box. He grinned, “These are my keys, right?” “Just open it,” our parents grinned back in unison, in a way that would give the Cheshire cat the creeps. He tore into it, careful not to rip the “Honda” address label. He took the lid off the box, and found inside…a pistol. No keys. Just  a Civil War-era powder pistol in a glass front case. “Where…where are my keys?!?” he wailed. “There are no keys! Hahahahahahaha!” We laughed at his disappointment, and he said “I can’t believe ya’ll would trick me!” He did like his gun though, so I guess it wasn’t a total loss.

I miss these unspoken traditions with my family. The shopping after school and pizza, the trouble to be had on Christmas Eve Eve, and being rudely awoken every December 25th around 4am. Having Christmas Eve ON Christmas Eve, instead of the week before. Maybe it’s the loss of traditions we are so used to growing up that causes sadness during this time. I know as a kid, I would feel so sad late on Christmas day, because it was over for another year,  the tree, the lights, the food, the anticipation. My brother would go back to being that lunk across the hall who hogged the tv and couldn’t manage to get up at 6 for school. Our house would go back to being a bland mess. There were no more fireworks. No more days off of school. No more hiding our mom’s Aaron Neville tape or cd. And maybe too, this is why it’s considered a child’s holiday. I think adults like seeing happy, sugar fueled children behaving for a few weeks, hoping for the perfect gift. Or threatening them with a call to Santa when they misbehave.  I also think my sadness comes from realizing that we’ll never have Christmases exactly like those we used to again. Maybe it’s another reason people have kids, to hold on to that in any way they can. Since I have only cats, I will tell my nephew about how George used to wake me up so early, how we’d sneak down the hall to inspect the goods, and be ordered back to bed for a couple more hours. I only hope he’s as excited on that morning as we always were, and that when his sister is old enough, he’ll bound across the hall at 4am, so they can race to the tree and help the day last that much longer. I think that’s a tradition worth keeping

We took a little trip this weekend to B&N after not having been for months. I was hoping to find one of the diet cookbooks on my Amazon wishlist- the Hungry Girl one (love that site, btw.) It was m.i.a. But there was one lonely copy of another cookbook on my list, Devin Alexander’s “The Most Decadent Diet Ever.” It’s worth noting that I do not like the word decadent. It’s like scrumptious. Let’s just agree to tasty and good and yummy, and leave those over the top adjectives where they belong, in 1890. That goes for you too, succulent. Go on…shoo. So I snatched it up, but not before all the cushy armchairs in the section were filled. Time to go.

I can’t ride and read well, so I had to wait until home to really dig in. But ever since, I have been glued. Yes, diet food conjures up images of bland bunny chow, cardboard and water. But this book might make you wonder why that ever was. Because let’s face it- Parmesan crusted fries and juicy barbecue burgers are not mainstays of most diet cookbooks. And it’s nice to see that those old standbys of crap eating can be remade into something a little (sometimes a lot) healthier. So I have been planning which recipe to start with all weekend. The Honey-Glazed Spiced Pork Tenderloin almost won, but Brian nixed it (we’re not pork fans, but that recipe looks soooo good. One day, we’re gonna have that for dinner, whether he likes it or not.) So I went with another honey recipe, the Honey-Lime Marinated London Broil. Only Brian couldn’t find a London Broil/top round, so eye of round it was. I don’t know a lot about cuts of meat, so I assume eye of round is fattier. And slightly cheaper. Anywhoo. The recipe is super easy, and the marinade and meat can all be put together the night before (marinade time is at least 6 hours.) I think they intend for you to eat it more the way you’d eat old fashioned roast beef, but we like to live a little. So fajitas it was. Try it now! It’s easy, tasty, and you have no excuse to not try out easy and tasty.

½ cup fresh lime juice

2 TBSP extra virgin olive oil

1 TBSP plus 1 tsp honey

2 TBSP fresh minced garlic

1 tsp salt

1¼ pounds trimmed London Broil (top round steak)

Whisk lime juice, olive oil and honey in small bowl. Stir in garlic and salt. Place steak in resealable plastic bag. Pour in marinade, seal bag and rotate it so that steak is covered with marinade. Place in refrigerator and marinade 6 hours or overnight, rotating occasionally, if possible.

Preheat grill to high.

Remove steak from marinade and place on grill (discard marinade.) Grill 4-6 minutes per side for medium rare, or to desired doneness. Place on plate or cutting board and cover with foil; let sit ten minutes before slicing. Slice immediately before serving, or refrigerate uncut steak and slice just before serving.

(I served mine on low carb whole wheat 8” flour tortillas with chopped tomato and black olive mix, lettuce and Monterey Jack. Would also be great on a salad.)

Something I have been looking for since about 2002 is this set of Pyrex (I assume Pyrex) mixing bowls with a little fruit design on one side. My aunt Nini got them one Easter, and I thought they were the cutest bowls ever. Just clear glass bowls with simple, vibrant fruits done in near Marimekko style.
They reminded me of these shirts I wore when I was younger, they were white with allover prints of tiny hearts or stars in primary colors. I think they came from Tarjay. Anywhoo, no one in my family seems to recall these bowls. And I couldn’t tell you if my aunt still has them, because she moves a lot, and they could frankly be anywhere. And, as I was about 10 when she bought them, I wouldn’t have thought to ask the pattern name. I thought you just bought based on the picture on the box, names were not any part of that. Live and learn, I suppose.

So, I’m on a mission to find them. When I moved out for about the third time, I told my mom I wanted to do my kitchen in fruits. She bought me some apple dishes that while cute, were more down on the farm and less modern-cartoony than I liked. I spent a good chunk of the afternoon googling every word and word combo that I thought would give me the results I desire. No luck so far. But I did fall upon a site and Flickr group that I’m sure will give me hours of enjoyment- and lead me down the rabbit hole of collection. Crazy Daisy is a pattern that I grew up with. My mom still has a few pieces if I’m not mistaken. It’s fun to see all the patterns through the years and find some that I could see in my kitchen, sharing counter space with a certain set of fruity mixing bowls. If only I could find the darn things. So check out the site http://www.pyrexlove.com/ and peruse all bowls and casseroles that your grandma might have made tuna surprise in. And be thankful that tuna surprise wasn’t one of your mom’s favorites. Yecch.

Since I have too much free time, I’ve decided to delve into some of the more pervasive commercials of this time. Issue one- the Glade lady. She started out innocently enough- throwing a gathering for a few girlfriends, it’s during the holidays, she has a gorgeous house, the perfect LBD, it’s the picture of early 90’s Chris Columbus perfection. But there’s something missing…maybe the dog rolled in mess outside and tracked it in. Maybe hubby is slacking on garbage duty, and they had flounder for last night’s dinner. Or maybe she’s a real estate stager, and is all out of cookie spray. Whatever. Enter Glade candles. But what lurks beneath the slightly quirky surface of our domestic doyenne is far more sinister than a love of over the fence gossip.

She lights the candle. The doorbell rings. This candle isn’t Diptyque! Hell, it isn’t even one of those White Barn Candle Co. candles from B&BW. It’s Glade…from the cleaning supplies aisle in Wall Banger’s. Its closest neighbors are those 98 cent jelly cones and Toilet Duck. This will not do, even though the scent makes everyone want pie. So, off goes the label, into the trash (or so we thought.) Door is answered, greetings all around, “is that pie?” No! It’s a candle…from France. What’s fancier than candles from France? Nothing, and don’t you forget it. Oh you mean Glahday?? Hens cackle, candle is described, candle lady finally admits that yes, the candle is Glade, end scene.

So. What can we tell about our heroine from this ad? And from all subsequent ads? That she’s got caviar taste and a catfish budget? That perhaps there is little to suburban fulfillment beyond having all the right things? Yeah, that’s what Glade wants you to think. What I think is that she’s got sociopathic tendencies and is a compulsive habitual liar. Why else would she lie about being at the spa while soaking in her own tub? Or lie about cleaning all day after a few spritzes of a new Febreze-like product? Because deep down, she is the new girl in 7^th grade, with a bad perm and buck teeth, and all the wrong clothes. And the only thing in this world that will keep the queen bees of this world off the gawky outsiders is flashing the “right” item before they hit. Thank you, Glade. Ok, so it’s not as serious as all that. Sometimes, a candle is just a candle. Unless it’s from France Please join me next week, when we discuss the deeper meaning of improv in a drive-in.

I am currently looking for new ways to do beans and rice. The dish from my childhood consisted of red beans, sausage, a box of Zatarain’s mix, and white rice. We had it often (and just a lot of rice in general, which is why I haven’t eaten rice in about 10 years. I got tired of it so I quit it ), and I never really cared for it, unless my mom made her from scratch cornbread. She doesn’t cook often, but she sure as hell puts her big toe into some corn bread and biscuits. Canned creamed corn she burns, but baked goods she can do. I had some chickpeas and saffron rice once when my aunt was married to my Uncle Ray (who is Dominican), and I really liked it. Sooo, I’m planning to redo old school red beans and rice by making a chickpea stew, and serving it over yellow rice. So far, my plan includes using a can of tomato basil soup, some balsamic vinegar and a few other spices (and a red bell pepper), and serving it over the rice. If I could make it like a paella, I think it would please me greatly. I’ve never had it, but it looks really good. So I will post my recipe for chickpea stew and saffron rice once I have made it

Also, I’m enjoying a couple of vegetarian/vegan cookbooks right now. One, “Vegan With a Vengeance” by Isa Chandra Moskowit, has a plethora of creative recipes with clever, punk-inspired titles (and I love the tips from the author’s cat.) The Fauxstess and lemon cupcakes will be given a spin in my kitchen fo sho. My favorite vegetarian cookbook ever of all time and forever is now officially “Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone” by Deborah Madison. I never knew that making a simple tomato sauce for pasta, from real live tomatoes, could be so easy. When she says it’s for everyone, she’s ain’t fibbing- the recipes are so simple, yet most of them have made my mouth water (the way she describes celery makes me want to snack on some, even though I detest it and always have.) It’s a big book, too, and it reads like a foodie novel. It’s awesome I think anyone, even die hard carnivores, would be hard pressed to not find something in that book that they would enjoy. And I’m not even into the desserts chapter yet!

So maybe I’m starting to view my original goal as less of a one month challenge to continuity, and more of a lifelong evolutionary process. So perhaps I haven’t really given up as much as I’ve just begun to fight

Friday:

• Cereal w/ organic 2% milk, orange
• Either veggie corndogs or more cereal (hey I’ve slept since then..)
• Homemade focaccia with pesto, sun dried tomatoes, black olives and a bit of mozzarella- little pizzas

Saturday:

• Cereal and 2%
• 2 oranges
• #6 Baja Chicken from Taco DingDong. Yup, back to that…
• ricotta

Sunday:

• 2 orders of cheese sticks from Sonic (I really like cheese, recall)
• Popcorn chicken meal from Sonic. I paid dearly for that later, with some wicked heartburn and acid reflux. I did not miss that.
• Bag of green seedless grapes

Monday:

• Orange
• Hebrew National hotdogs (2) and chili, cheese, yellow mustard, Sunchips, Neapolitan sundae

So I am not doing great, but I did at least try a few new things. And I am happy to report that that will continue- I’m still perusing, marking recipes for vegetarian meals and snacks. I’m just not in the best frame of mood to totally commit currently, but with more planning, I think that in a few months, I may try again. Or I may find some other way to tailor it to my specific needs and personality. I’m not ruling it out There are always options! And I’m glad I tried at least.

The rest of the day was still meat free, and I’m still not really craving any. Breakfast was some Kangaroo brand pita chips and two veggie corndogs (well, more brunch than breakfast.) I had some strawberries mid-afternoon, and instead of the planned dinner, I had leftover bean nachos. My friend, Diana, just told me to try eggplant in a restaurant, so maybe one day I will. But for now, my eggplant days are on hiatus.
I’m sending the leftovers to work with Brian, and he can ask if anyone there likes eggplant. I think I’ll be relieved if they say “it usually tastes much better than this!” (Brian actually liked it, so not sure what to expect really.) And if they like it, then it just means that I don’t, and it’s ok. At least I tried something new!

Day 11-

• Handful of cherry tomatoes and saltine crackers (we needed groceries)
• More saltine crackers for lunch (I think…)
• Taco Bell- 2 bean burritos and a triple layer nacho (meat free! and only 79 cents!)

Day 12-

• Bolthouse Farms berry smoothie, after some much needed grocery shopping
• Captain D’s- fish!!! I had to pick Brian up at lunch, and instead of being responsible and making lunch at home, we went out, and they were the least crowded (and I hate to say the lesser of all evils, but eh)
• Steamed broccoli teriyaki with water chestnuts, sesame seeds, Simply Asia brand sesame teriyaki noodles, and chow mein noodles. I made a sauce for the veggies, and Brian actually commented that he “really liked” the sauce, and I should definitely make it again He rarely says anything more than “it’s ok/alright” about most of my cooking, so that made me really happy. Plus, he’s not a huge fan of broccoli, so score.

Day 13-

• Lemon yogurt and an orange with a glass of pomegranate lemonade. Love the lemonade.
• Yakisoba brand stir fry noodles. It’s seriously ramen for grown-ups. So easy, so good. Next time I make stir fry, I will serve it atop a bed of these noodles. They are on my buy again list.
• Bean burritos/nachos with pico de gallo, black olives and nacho cheese. I just stirred it all together, baked it for 20 minutes, and served it with tortilla chips and whole wheat tortillas. I like the ww tortillas. They’re kinda sweet, so it adds an interesting flavor to the burritos.
• Sonic sundae with hot fudge, caramel and nuts. I needed ice cream.

I like that I can now see a Popeye’s commercial and not automatically go “mmmmm, chicken…” I feel it’s silly to say it’s getting easier (especially after having fish), but I am feeling so much better about the whole thing. On the menu for tomorrow (hopefully!)- eggplant parmesan subs and mini focaccia pizzas. They will make good little snacks for the next few days, because I still have some olives, and I found my favorite pesto (love) and some sun dried tomatoes. I just hope that I like the eggplant, and that I remember to take pictures. Oh, and I think I have lost 3 pounds. Our scale usually shows me fluctuating between one and seven pounds, but I weighed Monday and Tuesday, and the scale was showing roughly the same number. So yay for that!

Day 8

• Breakfast- don’t recall. I think it was probably soda
• Lunch- was actually dinner, because I get up really late. I was tempted to order an eggplant parm sub from Monjuni’s (in Ruston, La, and they have a few veggie-friendly dishes. I was just not in the mood for pasta.) Since I’m a weenie, I got the chicken parm sub. And breadsticks. And parmesan covered fries (those were sooo good.) I left the lettuce on my sandwich, something I never do, so woo for vegetables… I’m a riot.
• Dessert- Fried ice cream blast from Sonic. A regular sized one, so I don’t feel like a total pig. It was nice and cinnamon-y.

Day 9

• Brunch- Here’s where things went completely bust. I had a Sonic cheeseburger. For some reason, beef is a bigger no-no than chicken in my mind (like it’s not all dead animal?), so that has me feeling really guilty.
• Dinner- A number 6, Baja chicken from Taco Bell. I could have done so much better, but I figured I’d already slipped so far, that it didn’t matter. Yup, I am really terrible at this.

So, I have decided to finish my weekend of crap eating, and regroup, and do better. I’m even thinking of adding extra time to this, for the days I have screwed up. And, based on the advice of some of my fellow mark reps, I’m going to make my own eggplant parm. I can tell that meat makes me sluggish, even after not eating it for several days, then eating it again. I have to do better, and I will Time to make a grocery list!