For the Love of Food

As a graduate nutrition student, I sometimes feel pressure around my peers when it comes to cooking as well as cooking skills. I am going to throw it out there. I am not a cook. My knife skills are terrible, and I have to follow recipes. This doesn’t mean I am not a great nutrition student though. It’s just that many of my classmates went into nutrition because they grew up cooking, used to be a chef, or are natural “foodies”. Or even better: They are excellent chemistry students (good grief). I went into nutrition having grown up on velveeta, & bagels (not anymore of course, that’s all in the past). But I entered with a slightly different passion. It isn’t so much the smell of roasted garlic that makes me fall in love with nutrition (well, maybe a little). I went into nutrition in order to represent public health, and on an international level. At 22, (Ah yes, your 20s, filled with self discovery) I realized that I whole heartedly believe that every person no matter their age, sex, religion, or income bracket, have the natural born right to know what they are eating, decide what they are going to eat, and have access to whole, natural, affordable, healthy foods. This passion burned so much inside of me, that I soon after became a volunteer with the Food Bank of NYC where I taught nutrition to second graders in the Bronx who were on meal assistance programs at their school. That same year, I started applying to graduate schools. When I witness the disparities in food portions, ingredients, and nutrition education around the world, across our country, and even just in different parts of nyc; I become well, crazy. There is plenty I plan to do with my life (like travel, mostly) but I know I want to dedicate myself to this cause. What I hope the most for myself is that I am able to enter a career once I am complete with school where I can make a difference in this nutrition crisis and actually do the job for 40 years without getting tired of it. I tend to get tired of things frequently which is why I am cut out to live in the city, (never can be bored here) and since social security won’t exist by the time I am old enough to retire, I am thinking I better love my career right? This is what I want first. Way before a house with a fence, a dog, and 2.5 children, I want the opportunity to dive into my passion and never get lost in the “American Dream” mayhem that society makes us feel we should be keeping up with. You know the “American Dream”…it’s called the mortgage crisis.
So, back to my rookie kitchen skills: I may not be able to julienne carrots, but I enjoy buying them whole, organic, rinsing them in my sink and adding them to my whole wheat angel hair pasta for a dose of vitamin A in my dinner. I also love that my carrots do not come in a plastic bag with 13 ingredients listed on the back including “red lake 40 for color enhancement". My carrots have only one ingredient: “carrot”.
With yesterday being Sunday, and Sunday being a day I solely know as “for food, fun, & football”, I dedicated the entire rainy day to food. This is because to me food is fun, and football isn’t on yet. My childhood friend (since age 8) Kristen came to visit me Saturday night into Sunday. Kristen is a foodie. We were supposed to take yoga, but ended up sleeping past the alarm and waking up to a rain storm. Eh. Its Sunday, it’s raining; I can skip this week right? So I threw on a Sunday dress, grabbed an umbrella, and we instead walked to Le Pain on Madison Avenue & 84th street for what New Yorkers believe to be the trend known as…brunch. We were really just hungry, no trendiness necessary. Why I love Le Pain? They support organic sustainable farms. And I support restaurants that support organic sustainable farms. We entered the restaurant wet. My umbrella failed us on 90th and park as the wind blew it backwards and it tried to pull me down the street as opposed to doing its job and covering my head. As soon as we sat we rush ordered coffees (their coffee is SO delicious) and ate apple cinnamon and vegan blueberry muffins, finishing with a giant bowl of berries (raspberries, strawberries, blackberries, & blueberries).
Outside the restaurant window, the rain poured. Little Upper East Side toddlers holding their grandmothers hands splashed in the rain wearing rain boots with matching rain coats, looking like a pottery barn kids catalog come to life. We sat there and took our sweet time enjoying the sweet food, and with the heavy rain outside, what good would rushing do us anyway? I think food, friends, and conversation are becoming some of my greatest pleasures. We had coffee, we had time, and we had a lot to talk about. Le Pain hosted us well, and we eventually drifted out of the café with full tummies and smiles.
With a park day out of the question, & Kristen being a foodie, I knew she wouldn’t mind coming to wholefoods with me for the afternoon. What I love about this part, is that Kristen enjoys what I believe matters most as well, (food, wine, & loved ones), and she was thrilled at entering a gigantic wholefoods on 96th and Columbus with me. I was walking around this market like I had just struck the vegetable lottery. Which, at this place I may as well have. My rule for produce shopping, pick 2 items of each color of the rainbow. Example; “red” (apples, red peppers, check!) “Orange” (Oranges, peaches, check!) “yellow” (bananas, yellow potatoes) “Green” (kale, broccoli, spinach…three of these because they are the best) and so on. Fill that cart like a rainbow and without ever having to plug your meals into some online food journal, or calorie count, know that you are balanced and OK. I filled my cart with fruits, vegetables, whole grains, salads, nuts, veggie burgers, lentils, chips & salsa, and pasta. I don’t know which was more fun, the shopping or the unpacking of the food into my kitchen. I had spent my money for the week on food. I knew I wouldn’t need to take out another dollar for at least 10 days. The difference between eating out during your work week and cooking food at home is something that not only will better your wallet, but it will better how you feel. When you walk into a burrito joint lets say, you may at first feel empowered by choosing what to put into that burrito (“I chose brown rice, I chose black beans, I said no cheese”). But you have no idea where those beans came from. Were they in a can before they were prepared? If so, how much sodium may be in those beans? And how much do you pay for a burrito in NYC? Based on my 7 years here, I’d say anywhere from $8-$11 and that’s not including your beverage (which also probably racks you up another $2.25, and 80-220 calories depending what you choose). Eating Out= ok once in a while for a social scene and emergencies. However, Cooking > Eating Out, always. :)


For dinner on this night after returning from the food store, I cooked butternut squash risotto with roasted Brussels sprouts in garlic and olive oil. We opened a bottle of pinot noir, (because this is what Sundays are for) and we sat with our dinner, my friend and I. Eating nothing but whole foods (literally) this week, this is what I ate the following day, (all found at wholefoods market): My friends, I present to you a day in the life of my eating habits.
Breakfast: Kashi Go Lean Crunch in a bowl with Stoneyfield Vanilla organic yogurt, and sliced banana
Snack: “Back to Nature” cheddar crackers
Lunch: Saffron Rice with Kidney beans
Snack: Cascadian Farm Chocolate Almond Granola Bar
Dinner: (cooked at home) Vegetarian Chickn stuffed with goat cheese. Walnut and Cranberry cous cous, with sautéed Kale. (check recipe tab for instructions on kale). Giant glass of water.
Tonight, making every attempt to not write a 5,000 word blog entry, I wanted to share with you my passion for not just food, but food equality. I wanted to share my passion for cooking, despite the fact that I am a rookie at the stove. My passion for not just eating, but eating with loved ones and enjoying the time spent. And I wanted to bring to your attention briefly (or not so briefly) the world of food shopping, selecting actual food, & then cooking with it. Yes, sounds funny but there are plenty of “food store” items on the shelves that do not qualify as actual “food”. I am not ever going to be on the food network channel, and when I cut an onion there is a mess on the cutting board. But I am serious about eating foods that make you feel good, and I am serious about everyone having that chance. I have seen firsthand, the children I used to tutor in East Harlem eat their lunch and within the next 2 hours be unable to concentrate in class. “I don’t feel well Miss Jessica” and my response would be “what did you last eat darling?” Nutrition fuels your mind. How can we expect a future generation of successful students, employees, and citizens, if the highest potential for learning is never reached? And keep in mind that the highest potential for learning may never be reached, because meals high in fat and sugar do nothing but leave a child sleepy & with a stomach ache. Diets low in omega 3 has been linked to learning disorders such as Attention Deficit Disorder. The list goes on. These are the thoughts that run through my head everyday. As I continue my education in Nutrition and public health this fall, I will continue to write on these topics that remind me everyday why I am investing in my education in the first place.
Peace. Love. & Equality.

All Bodies Rise

(In January, I had the priviledge of being present at my friends engagement party. Her family is from Bombay, India and this was a religious Puja ceremony. This tradition involved blessing the couple, prayer, and offering food to the Gods. I ate, I drank, I wore a Sari. This picture was taken during preperation for the "arshibad" ceremony).

It’s a really great feeling to wake up on the weekend (on a day I do not have to work), have some breakfast, and walk out the door in comfortable clothing with no make up on. This is my routine when I go to yoga class on Saturday or Sunday mornings. I love waking up feeling refreshed, and not tired or stressed (You see, I never go out the night before taking class, because I know if I do I will not make it to class at all). So sometimes I watch Saturday Night Live and hit the pillow for 9 hours on Saturday night instead; and then I begin my Sunday morning on the mat with deep breaths, wrist curls, and shaking my head “yes” and “no”. As the instructor says, “wake up your body”. With my yoga pants, flip flops, white tank top, and my hair a wild mess, I headed down to St Marks place yesterday morning around 9am. My breakfast was Kashi cereal “autumn wheat” with skim milk and a banana. I hold on all coffee until after class since I don’t think it is wise to increase your heart rate with caffeine right before working out (where your heart rate will increase on its own). Also, it is an artificial way of waking up & yoga feels better in the end. I say that with all the love in the world for my coffee, but it’s the truth.
Class was tough this morning. It was a different instructor who I had never taken class with, and my body for some reason felt extra tight. I was surprised when I went into downward dog and my heels couldn’t touch the mat. I thought to myself “give yourself ten minutes and your body will warm up” but I was struggling for some reason. 20 minutes later I thought “maybe it was the 3 mile run last night, you didn’t really stretch well after and you may have tightened up during sleep”. 5 minutes later, as my hips screamed at me for making them go into warrior 2, I finally said, “this class is only an hour, so stop thinking, shut up, and do what you can,…. just don’t quit Jessica Marie”. (I use the "marie" here for that middle name extra "oomph". Remember when you were young and you knew you were really in trouble because your mom or dad called you by your first AND middle name? When I heard "Jessica Marie!" I knew to hide).
Then, just in the peak of class where your heart rate is really up, and sweat is starting to get into your eyes, the instructor tuned on Coldplays “Lovers in Japan/Reign of love”. A huge smile spread across my face, & I thought “amazing! I Love this song!” By the time I processed that thought, I realized I had made it into the bind position, which everyone else had already been holding for 3 minutes while I had been shaking with effort. Good lord! If any of you do not know what this is, google it. It’s not exactly…comfortable. That position makes me dizzy usually but I must have been feeling unstoppable because I just looked at the girl in front of me (who by the way, looked like she could do the dishes in that position with no problem) and copied her. Boom. Done. Jessica is in the bind. I credit the coldplay. After this mini miracle, I finally felt like I had accomplished something. Interestingly enough, the teacher starts going into a little lecture at this point. He starts saying (in his slow, calming yogi voice): “Just breathe. Dedicate this class to yourself, this is your time. We live in New York City, and living here means everything in your life probably revolves around competition. It is all ambition here. But this lifestyle….I am going to ask you to throw it out right now.” Huh…funny. He is so smart. If I hadn’t made it into the bind position at that point of class, and I finished the hour still struggling through everything (aka “if he hadn’t played the coldplay”), would I have felt like I failed in yoga this morning? Am I that New Yorker who competes with my own life? Now I understand though, that no matter how much I sweat or how many yoga positions I can or cannot do, the fact that I absorbed what this man said in that moment, about doing it for yourself… now I had truly reaped the benefits of class. That’s my hour. It doesn’t matter for 60 minutes what my sales are like at my job, if I am going to do well in my clinical nutrition class this fall, or if my electricity bill is due this week. I am going to for just an hour, stop competing with others and myself. I am going to try my best, breathe, and be grateful for the New York moment in which I actually slowed down. It doesn’t matter if the chick in front of me can stand on her head and write a check to time warner cable at the same time. My time was spent working on my flexibility, enjoying coldplay, & accomplishing the bind (yea!)
When class was over, as always, I walked out looking like I just fell in love. I stop at Think Coffee on 13th street on the way home and buy my well deserved cup of joe, hop on the subway and say “now….. what else will I do with this day?”
Peace. Love. Namaste.

• Lovers In Japan / Reign Of Love by Coldplay

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Hydrotherapy:

(Home on Long Island, at the docks in Northport)
This past weekend for me was an equal mix of relaxation, red wine, ocean beaches, & family time. And it all kicked off Thursday evening with one of my routine "me time" bubble baths. So, tonight I have decided to highlight this routine as I have brought it to your attention before. The bubble bath. When I was a full time nanny to those same three little darlings I’ve written about in the past (see April blog: “why does the pig eat tofu?”) I used to give them a bath every night after dinner. Yes. All 3 of them at the same time. There were lots of bubbles. You may be wondering how I managed to wash 3 children at the same time. Easy…. Funny Bones.
(What?)
Yep. Funny….Bones….
My hands would have the wash cloths wrapped around them, loaded with soap. I would reach for the ankles and scrub while singing “the ankle bone connects to the, knee bone! The knee bone connects to the hip bone!” Then: “them bones them bones them, funnnnnyyy bones!” (at the “funny bones” they would get tickled and splashed by me, making the washing process well, “funny” to them. They got the biggest kick out of this. If you don’t know the funny bones song, then I fear you may have missed out on something during your childhood. Their little laughs would make me laugh, and by the time the bath was over we were all equally covered in bubbles. The kids however, were clean. Mission accomplished.
But what does a bath mean to you when you are no longer 5, but rather 25?
At 5 I looked forward to baths because it meant I got to turn my barbies into mermaids and play in a giant tub of water until my fingers looked like raisins. This past Thursday evening, I finished a brutal workout at the gym, and I felt that if I did not take some time to soak in hot water, I may not have been able to get out of bed in the morning. :) Now there are other reasons for taking a bath as an adult besides a killer workout. Stress for one, is a horrible chain of reactions in our body which will age us, add weight, and affect our physical and mental health. If you feel stressed for whatever reason, I am going to suggest a bath. If you feel you have a lot on your mind, and need time to gather your thoughts and re evaluate some things; I am going to suggest a bath. And while I may have taken one this night because of the workout, I will confess…it was all of the above reasons that made my bath feel superior.
I believe it’s important to listen to your inner monologue, to listen to your heart, and to listen to your body. They are all always speaking to you, and it is this self awareness that I feel puts you 10 steps ahead of the game. For example, I usually know when I am getting sick days before it actually happens. I can feel when I am low on iron, and when I am dehydrated. Forget Tylenol, diet supplements, and talk shows on TV. You can figure everything out on your own, just listen. So listen I do (or at least try to most of the time, but no one is perfect). What I heard was …”lady, take a bath”. This time is beneficial since 1. Relaxing slows my heart rate down, and this makes excellent prep for sleep, 2. The steam opened my pores and allowed for workout wastes to escape way better than a cold shower would, and 3. Meditation & self awareness requires practice. Marjorie Jaffe, in her book, "The Bathtub Yoga & Relaxation Book" says "You forget how to take care of yourself, and [a bath] teaches you to take time, meditate and be mindful of your body" (David Fischer discusses this on his candles and soap blog).
It is amazing how when I turn off my bathroom light, & light 4 candles instead, how my bathroom (which is so boring and normal during the day) becomes an entirely different place. It is beautiful. With 4 candles at the front of the tub (2 on each side) and 2 candles that hang in holders on the wall, I can shut off the actual bright lights that are above my sink. I filled up the tub with hot water, and poured a dove soap mix against the running water. My final touch is the ipod perfectly placed next to the tub, and my playlist set to go. I tie my hair up in a “sloppy bun” & step right in. Hello, this is my world now. I am thinking about how being alone feels nice sometimes (despite how much I usually love being around people), and how I feel that this is better than any verbal therapy session anyone could ever offer me. Fortunately for me, I have the capability to close my eyes, listen to music, and completely meditate until I feel new again. I also make decisions during this time on issues that are peeving me for the moment. Sigh…ah clarity. There you are.
I will share my relaxation playlist: I couldn’t have been happier listening to this mix. You should try it. (it's mostly the same artists, but hey if the mood fits...)
Ingrid Michaelson: “The Chain”
Ingrid Michaelson/Sara Bareilles: “Winter Song”
The Cinematic Orchestra: “To build a home”
Ingrid Michaelson: “Morning Lullabies”
Yeah Yeah Yeahs: “Maps”
Yeah Yeah Yeahs: “Runaway”
Maxwell: “Womans work”
Ingrid Michaelson: "The way I am"
Ingrid Michaelson: “Keep Breathing”
So, my loved ones, do yourself a favor and step into the world of hot water, candles, and bubbles that smell like lavender. Because when this world gets confusing and complicated, it wont do you any good to stress. Stress will leave you with nothing but wrinkles, and I have a master plan to remain looking 25 well into my 40s. ;) (Also, just like when I was 5 years old, I stayed in this bath until my fingers looked like raisins as well).
I leave you with a quote I read this week (after my yoga class each week they always end with a quote, & I see myself starting to pick up the habit..)
“If you want something you’ve never had, you need to do something you’ve never done”
Enjoy your sanity (and a sample song from my bath playlist).
All my love <3

• The Way I Am by Ingrid Michaelson

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My Mini Blog:

(im sure the owner of this antique store in brooklyn didnt have this kind of photo shoot in mind when she put some of her products outside...but little did she know I was sharing some very important, top secret nutrition information with this woman statue).
I want to quickly update all (18) of you on an earlier post about an above average coffee man who makes small talk with me each day. This morning I walked out of my building as always with multiple bags on my shoulders; cell phone tucked into the right “butt pocket”, i pod in the left butt pocket with headphones stringing up along my clothing and into my ears, and my one available hand left struggling to unzip my wallet and reach for the dollar bill to pay the coffee man while my keys almost fall out of my pocketbook, and the morning paper is in my mouth (I curl my lips so that it is not actually in my mouth, but yes I know some of you may still find this disgusting). As I approach this gentleman like the human hurricane I appear to be, he smiles and greets me with “hello my friend”. This morning however, he changes it up with an “(deep sigh of relief…reaches down below the window, pops back up with large cup) I saved this last one for you!” Me: “Get out of town!” Him: “yes, I ran out of them (the cups) this morning and kept one to the side for you, because I know you need the large iced!” (smile). Me: “Oh. My. God. You. Are. An Angel”.
Now I don’t want to brag, but who are we kidding here? I have never felt this loved! The thing about me is that I am all about the little things. I think little things are better than big things. I think laying in central park under a tree is a joyous occasion. Sure, I tend to be ridiculous sometimes, but my dramatic personality also makes me very passionate, & it is that same passion which showed on my face, that made the coffee man feel like a King today when I told him 24 times that he made my day by simply putting a plastic cup to the side. He is such a kind person. I think I need to make him some of Lilias soup and bring it to the cart one day. Maybe I will do that though when it is not 100 degrees outside. This heat has been something to sweat over, and iced coffees will continue to make me smile every morning, until September comes that is, and along with the seasons changing; so will my coffee order. For now though I am wrapping up my summer with 18 days left of my seasonal job, making plans for the remaining days off, & trying to have as many beautiful moments as possible. While the fall is my absolute most favorite time of year, this summer has been sweet to me and I plan on soaking up the suns last rays before bidding adieu to it. Now this is a mini blog, meant for the purpose of updating. I have plenty more to say (as always) but will hold until it is all better edited. Until next time: I leave you with music...Peace. Love. & vegetarian meatballs

• Keep Breathing by Ingrid Michaelson

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One Sick Pup

I don’t know where that expression came from. “One sick pup”. I actually don’t know if it’s even considered an expression, or if it’s just another made up phrase that my parents used while I was growing up. They did make up a lot of expressions those two. What I do know, is that whenever I did something either crazy, gross, or both, my parents would follow with “boy you are one sick pup!” (Obviously, they weren’t referring to me being physically sick, but more so mentally).
A few weeks ago, however, that is exactly what I was.
I was out of commission for a week, one of those days finally giving in and calling out of work. Since I am not really great at taking days and doing “nothing”, I decided to take on an achievable apartment task. I decided I’d paint my living room, like I have wanted to do for months. Painting is so relaxing too. So I put on a nice Dave Matthews playlist, and painted my bedroom and one wall of the living room. What I should have realized was the 95 degree weather, stomach bug, open paint cans, & poor ventilation wasn’t about to mix well. An hour into the painting I felt so sick, that you can see the story unfold on my living room wall. You see where the effort was, and where I started going downhill (like how I painted right over the light switch, which I believe you are supposed to avoid doing). I actually don’t even remember the end of that paint job, as I quickly started fading. I practically crawled into my room as soon as I managed to finish and set myself up in bed in time for 4pm Oprah. My roommate comes home from work around 5pm to find me in bed holding my head and laying upside-down moaning in pain. There was head pressure, nose pressure, body aches, a not so attractive cough, and the feeling I was going to get sick which came in waves every 12 minutes or so. But this story wouldn’t be worth sharing if I was just going to tell you how sick I was. Nah. The story gets good now (at least I think) because I still managed to have a great evening.
Part of being sick on a Friday night includes canceling your Friday night plans. Mine for that night was supposed to involve my friend Lilia, and a pair of salsa dancing high heels on my feet in a bar/restaurant downtown to a live band. I was so. Bummed. I didn’t want to cancel, but there really was no way I was making it past my living room couch. After making the dreaded call to mi amiga, I was thrilled to hear she didn’t care about going out and was going to stop over and visit me instead! A few hours later, when she arrived at my apartment, there was a bag of goodies on her arm. There was Theraflu, Tylenol sinus, a giant yellow Gatorade (which is all I want to drink when I am sick. I don’t know why, childhood habit I suppose) and vegetables. Vegetables, because Lilia came over to make me homemade vegetable soup from scratch. How did I get so freaking lucky!? She said when she heard my voice on the phone; she knew I was in bad shape, and that there was no way I’d be dancing that night. So, there we were; two chicas, in a tiny kitchen, on a hot summer Friday night uptown. A can of vegetable broth, potatoes, carrots, & celery with a cup (or 2) of water simmered on the stove top as I ate crackers and drank the Gatorade. As always, the ipod provided the tunes and even though I was a sick pup, I was pretty happy. Lilia owned the kitchen, walking around finding spices and randomly pinching a little of this and a little of that into the pot. In the end, we added whole wheat angel hair pasta to it, with salt, pepper, & a lot of love of course. :) This soup took 35 minutes from start to finish & was made with no recipe on paper. Lilia is a talented lady, but we can definitely all do this soup! Also, I am crediting it as my cure to that horrible illness I had all week. The soup was a real life miracle. I felt relief as soon as I tasted it.
I love vegetables. I love music. & I love Lilia. I also love feeling better. And when I can remember the list of “stuff” she threw into that pot, I will compile it and post it on this blog so you can make at home for your best friend, or love when they are not feeling well. So check back for it under “recipes”. In the words of Jerry Springer, “take care of yourself. And each other”.

• Verme by Baby Ranks

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