Some thoughts on food
This is not a depressing post. It's not a poor-me post, or an illness post, or any of that. I just think about this a lot, and I have a lot of thoughts on the subject.
I have an eating disorder.
This means I think about food a lot. I think about what I will eat and when I will eat it. Although I am "recovered" -- I am a healthy weight and I eat three meals a day and snacks -- I still think about/stress over/cope with food. I still have to eat and I still have to wear clothes and look in the mirror and deal with my warped mind.
I also love to cook, bake, and eat.
This also means I think about food a lot. What I will make next, what I haven't tried. I like to try new things. The worst thing that can happen is that I don't like something and if it's really bad, I can spit it out. In food as in most things I make, my central philosophy is curiosity, as I've recently finally figured out (see Act 4). Once I find out how to make something or how something will turn out, my impetus for doing it is gone. I don't want to make the same thing over and over once I've done it well, sometimes to my friends' infinite sadness. (I'm thinking of a particular goat-cheese cheesecake with a cayenne/dark chocolate ganache and bourbon cherries. It was difficult, it was stressful, it came off better than I hoped, and it was well received. But I've done it, so when there are so many other things I want to bake, it's hard for me to do it again.) I wish I could still bake for a living and be able to have health insurance and make a living wage. I love making quality things that other people enjoy.
I am concerned about where my food comes from and how it is produced.
We have raised our own hens on organic feed in order to collect their eggs, which with their nearly-orange yolks and savory whites have spoiled me for anything else. Jen grows a garden that provides us with all the greens we can eat and then some, and a few extras here and there, radishes and carrots and cucumbers and tomatoes and herbs. We belong to a CSA (and try not to waste its bounty twice a month). We are beginning our rabbit-raising venture so that we can be responsible for our own meat, from animals we have known since birth, treated humanely, and killed ourselves. I'm learning how I can preserve the food we do produce; I've pickled and canned jam. I look forward to learning to cook with rabbit and one day learning to tan their hides.
Food is important to me. I am thankful every day that I have enough, and grateful that I've made a life that allows me to produce some of what I eat. I hope that each step we take with the Chance Ranch lets us produce a little more and eat a little better. One day, I'd like to be able to do more than that; I'd like to get involved with food advocacy, small farmers, and access to healthy food for more people. Everyone deserves a good diet of wholesome food, and I am thankful that I have the skills to cook for myself and my family.
I have an eating disorder.
This means I think about food a lot. I think about what I will eat and when I will eat it. Although I am "recovered" -- I am a healthy weight and I eat three meals a day and snacks -- I still think about/stress over/cope with food. I still have to eat and I still have to wear clothes and look in the mirror and deal with my warped mind.
I also love to cook, bake, and eat.
This also means I think about food a lot. What I will make next, what I haven't tried. I like to try new things. The worst thing that can happen is that I don't like something and if it's really bad, I can spit it out. In food as in most things I make, my central philosophy is curiosity, as I've recently finally figured out (see Act 4). Once I find out how to make something or how something will turn out, my impetus for doing it is gone. I don't want to make the same thing over and over once I've done it well, sometimes to my friends' infinite sadness. (I'm thinking of a particular goat-cheese cheesecake with a cayenne/dark chocolate ganache and bourbon cherries. It was difficult, it was stressful, it came off better than I hoped, and it was well received. But I've done it, so when there are so many other things I want to bake, it's hard for me to do it again.) I wish I could still bake for a living and be able to have health insurance and make a living wage. I love making quality things that other people enjoy.
I am concerned about where my food comes from and how it is produced.
We have raised our own hens on organic feed in order to collect their eggs, which with their nearly-orange yolks and savory whites have spoiled me for anything else. Jen grows a garden that provides us with all the greens we can eat and then some, and a few extras here and there, radishes and carrots and cucumbers and tomatoes and herbs. We belong to a CSA (and try not to waste its bounty twice a month). We are beginning our rabbit-raising venture so that we can be responsible for our own meat, from animals we have known since birth, treated humanely, and killed ourselves. I'm learning how I can preserve the food we do produce; I've pickled and canned jam. I look forward to learning to cook with rabbit and one day learning to tan their hides.
Food is important to me. I am thankful every day that I have enough, and grateful that I've made a life that allows me to produce some of what I eat. I hope that each step we take with the Chance Ranch lets us produce a little more and eat a little better. One day, I'd like to be able to do more than that; I'd like to get involved with food advocacy, small farmers, and access to healthy food for more people. Everyone deserves a good diet of wholesome food, and I am thankful that I have the skills to cook for myself and my family.