Presenting Bullet Bill

Everyone, I got a new car! Well, new to me. It was finally time to retire my first car as she was looking a little rough and I was ready for some modern conveniences. I feel kind of like I'm cheating on her, but hey I need a radio and, you know...door handles and such. I'm not putting the old girl down of course - she was a great first car, it was just time to move on. At least she'll stay in the family.

I'd been eying the Yaris for awhile and opted to go with the 2010 they had at the dealership because I actually like the body style a bit better better than the new version. You can't tell from this crappy photo but the front is all round and cute, like a bug. The dealership experience was an all-day affair, but I knew what I wanted and ended up getting a great price. I was able to put a decent chunk down, so my payment is really low. Score!

Ain't she a beaut? Or rather, HE! I had thought up all sorts of cute names, like Jellybean and Space Egg, figuring I'd get a blue or silver one, but Greg threw out "Bullet Bill" (like in Mario!) and it stuck. Isn't it perfect? So he gets credit for the name and for keeping me from freaking out all day.

Not only is Bullet Bill stylish, but he's a lot of fun to drive! Well except for my white-knuckled drive home on the freeway in the dark from the dealership...it's time to brush up on my driving skills and this neato car is just the perfect motivation to do that. I've been driving it very gingerly but I think I'm starting to get used to it. I actually enjoyed my commute today. There's a lot of stress inherent in a big purchase, but I gotta say it feels good :)

Crockpot cooking, Mexican style

 Recently I cooked a huge pork tenderloin and the meals it yielded have been so good I just have to share. These aren't recipes per se, just me sharing some recent kitchen experiments. Another disclaimer - my food never photographs well. This is something I considered putting effort into before deciding I was too lazy and apathetic. There are a lot of wonderful food blogs out there and this isn't one of them, but if you're a friend and enjoy reading then that makes me happy!
 
Anyway, some people say that loin is too lean for the crockpot but I disagree. A shoulder would likely be more flavorful, but I've never had an issue with the loin drying out or becoming tough, and it's easy to find in the supermarket. Greg bought a giant one, about 5 pounds! In addition to the two meals below I gave some to my dad and brother and have another portion frozen for some quesadillas or another soup.

I prepared the loin Tex Mex style, with green chilis and tomatoes (Rotel guys, it was Rotel. Who am I kidding), chicken broth and some spices (chili powder, cumin, oregano). I threw all of it in the crockpot, making sure there was enough of the spicy broth to cover the pork and cooked it for about 8 hours before shredding it and tossing a bit more spice onto the shredded pork and mixing it up.

After portioning most of it for freezing, I got to work frying up some corn tortillas in preparation for some pork enchiladas verdes.

The reason I suggest frying the tortillas in oil is that last time I made enchiladas they were sadly a bit mushy. They still tasted great but they ended up more like a casserole...not exactly what I had in mind. I fried them up until they were a bit leathery and layered them in paper towels as I went to absorb excess grease.

I filled the tortillas with pork and cheese (I just used some jack but manchego would be FANTASTIC) and placed them in the pan. At this point I would usually add sauce and cheese to the top, but while researching a remedy for my mushy enchilada problem I came across a wonderful tip: to bake them first, then top them and broil for the last few minutes. That way they're not soaking in the sauce while they bake. After about 15 minutes at 350 the contents inside were all melty, so I pulled them out, dumped some salsa verde and sour cream on top and crumbled queso fresco all over. After a few minutes in the broiler, dinner was served. Don't forget to top with cilantro and a squeeze of fresh lime juice! If you want to get all fancy and make your own salsa verde you will earn some real cred. I need to someday but it's one of those things that should really be done the night before, and I was aiming for a quick weeknight dinner.

Next up, I made some posole!

I had saved and frozen the broth leftover from the crockpot when I initially made the pork and I'm so glad I did. After sauteing some onions and garlic in a pan, I added the broth and a diced poblano that I had just roasted in the oven. I didn't add any fresh green chilis as I was worried it would make it too spicy. I was right - the green chilis already in the broth were more than sufficient. I added the pork, a can of hominy (can't have posole without it), cilantro, lime juice and let it all cook until heated through. I topped with some avocado and crumbled queso freso after dishing it out. I just love cold avocado in a hot soup, and queso freso is ideal for soups since it doesn't really melt. Without bragging, just let me say that it was really, really delicious. The great thing about soup is that you can tweak it and taste it until you get it just right. I didn't follow a recipe and you don't need to either.

I love this kind of cooking and will certainly do more of it over the fall and winter. If you have any great crockpot recipes send them my way!

Weighty Issue

When I was young, I had a metabolism like you wouldn't believe. I simply couldn't gain weight - something that bothered me slightly in my awkward teen years but which I ultimately accepted. Hearing catchphrases like "real women have curves" or seeing women my size being compared to a 13 year old boy still stung quite a bit, but I did my best to not let that stuff affect me. And besides, I felt like I didn't have a right to complain. After all, being rather slim put me in a conventionally attractive category though I was actually technically underweight. I developed a few snappy comebacks for when insensitive people would ask me if I was anorexic, and for the most part didn't spend much time thinking about my weight - a good thing since I quickly learned that very few people will be sympathetic to thin people with body issues not of the eating-disorder variety. Even now I worry about how this blog will be received by people who truly struggle with their weight. I hope it will be taken for what it is, which is my personal experience with how weight is wrapped up with identity, and my attempts to figure out what it means to look and feel the healthiest I can.

Anyway, after about 18 or so I didn't think about my weight at all. I was skinny and assumed I always would be. But then I hit about 25 and something changed. I started to notice some curves I had never really had before and, feeling curious, I stepped on a scale for the first time in years. That's what I discovered I had gained 15 whole pounds without noticing. That's also when I realized it was a bit silly to have thought all my pants just shrank at once. I know, I know, but weight gain was just something I hadn't considered. It wasn't that I was out of touch with my body exactly, but I'd always had a bit of trouble telling how much space I took up. It's strange. If you'd have asked me if I was taller or shorter or bigger or smaller than someone I wouldn't have had a clear answer unless the difference was drastic. Now I was all too aware.

I'm far from overweight, but being stick-thin was part of my identity. It'd be like waking up one day and not being a redhead. I was thrown for a loop, and found myself thrust into a part of the female experience that was completely foreign to me. Discussing calories, and dress sizes and whatnot. I hated it (and still do) because it's so cliche and boring. All the comments - snarky or well-intentioned - about my skinny-ness stopped, and on a bad day it's easy for your brain to run away with what that means. I used to find those comments unwelcome but now I...missed them? I wonder if growing up with my size being an open topic of discussion for everyone helped to make me more sensitive to such matters in the long run.

In a way I'm happier with my looks nowadays. When I compare myself to old pictures I prefer the less wan and boney Jen (though I feel oddly protective of her when someone else says they think I look better now).  But in a way I'm not happier, because thinking about my weight at all is decidedly not the path to happiness for me. So even though I think I look better, I miss the carefree days of slipping into my size 1 jeans and not having to worry about a muffin top. Again, not because I looked better necessarily but because I didn't obsess about how my clothes fit. I didn't have to be aware of the space I filled. Dressing a whole different body was strange at first and not something I expected to be dealing with after puberty. But you know, you adapt. In addition to picking out different clothes, I had to actually start paying attention to what I ate and drank. After a life of ignorant, gluttonous bliss it was annoying but educational.

I put on a handful more pounds after that initial 15, the after-effects of quitting smoking, drinking more than my fair share of beer and getting on the pill, along with just getting older and filling out a bit. I'd learned to embrace those pounds...except for that last handful. Because while I am happy to be curvier, I refuse to accept that slow creep of weight gain as the decades pass and I know that as I head into my 30's it's not going to get any easier. As a result, I started focusing not on weight loss but on getting in shape. I've started exercising 5 days a week and cooking healthy meals at home. These changes were so immediately rewarding on a mental and emotional level that the physical aspect was almost secondary. But, slowly but surely, that handful of pounds I was unhappy with dropped off. Well, most of them at least.

A funny thing happened though when I saw that number on the scale drop. I felt elated. Ugh, how typical.  I keep telling myself that if that number goes up because I get more muscular then that is fine with me. I hope I mean it. It's such an easy thing to obsess over, a metric to measure yourself by. I'm glad to be approaching my 30's having once been made fun of for being too thin, and also having been a bit softer than I'd prefer, because hopefully those experiences will help me keep perspective and remember that how I feel is what really matters. I also know that I have my metabolism and genetics on my side, and that I have it far easier than others. The recent hoopla about Lady Gaga's 20 pound weight gain has strengthened my resolve to think about weight in a healthy, non-obsessive way. Is there really such a small margin between concern-trolling about someone being underweight and then calling them fat? I refuse to apply such harsh standards to others and I refuse to apply them to myself. My goal is simply to be in better shape health-wise in my 30's than in my 20's. I think I'm on my way!