Chances are you live a stone’s throw away from a Thai restaurant in your neighborhood, and you’ve got a go-to local favorite for pad thai. These days I often find myself traveling north of Berkeley, where there’s quite a few wonderful Thai eateries clustered in Albany, El Cerrito and San Pablo locales.
Temporary, strong emotions, when we’re already feeling down, can significantly reduce our ability to perceive the fat in our food, researchers say. It’s the latest finding to show how strong emotions can confuse our sense of taste.
By “eat light,” I mean feed myself with as many (good) mood-enhancing ingredients as I can get my hands on. This Holiday Season, while I still plan on consuming my fair share of spiked eggnog and Christmas cookies, I’ll be self-medicating with more fruits and vegetables and less bourbon.
No longer will I over-complicate my feelings toward cherries. I will do my best not to think of them as symbols of transitory beauty, who in desperate need to retain their youth, turn to alcohol for support. Instead, I will eat them and enjoy them as they come. And when I dip into a brandied one or two come winter time, I will no longer view them as Helen Lawsons-in-a-jar.
This winter, one of my several drinks of choice is a nod of solidarity with my half-frozen Swedish brothers and sisters– glögg. It’s festive without trying too hard, it’s simple to make in large batches, it’s warm, it’s delicious, and, with the help of a little brandy, it really helps take the edge off the Holidays. And, of course, it’s just plain fun to say. If you’re not quite certain how to pronounce it, just sidle up to a Swede– they’re a friendly lot.
Food is wholesome and sustaining, but my relationship with it at the time kept it framed in an unhealthy light. Food was something that had once made me very happy. I was tired of surrendering it to an unpleasant fantasy realm, where my brain waged war against my body, and limited what it could enjoy. That pissed me off as much as anything about my predicament, and I finally decided to do something about it — with some counseling, a gym membership, and plenty of tacos. I wanted to spend my life eating, and in time, maybe make a living doing so.
Yes, I know. The word of the hour is recession but, frankly, I don’t know the difference. Nor do I much care, since I’ve never had much money to lose anyway. On Tuesday, my cousin Stephanie sent me an odd little collection of cookbooks from the 1930′s– all three of them product-related (Heinz 57, Royal […]