i present, a well grilled strip of grass-fed bison on a bed of steamed spinach with a sauté of caramelized red onions, golden raisins, granny smith apple and a splash of sherry vinegar. my version of a decadent dinner for the current ’09 regime…
because, here’s the deal. ’08 was quite the interesting and wonderful food odyssey. but when the year shook out, despite my paltry self-thwarted attempts at some kind of balance, i am somehow about 20+ lbs up. not 10. not 15. but 20+. and that is not pretty. not even a little. plus i feel both unhealthy and stupid. and i’d call that a rather pathetic combo.
oprah, how did we let this happen – again?
© Copyright 2006 Kevin Ebi/Living Wilderness.
i feel quite sure that faced with this animal in an uncompromising situation there’d be very little room for understanding or negotiation. bison are like the elephant men of 4 leggeds – WITH a punk hairdo, making them look even that much more disturbing. (and really, i think they’re pissed about it.) but despite the aesthetics of the beast, i am a fan. and if only a bison’s mother could love the face, then i am content with loving the rest of it’s body. and here’s why…
assuming these numbers were correct, i went ahead and signed up to the tune of 6 filets and 8 ny strips of the grass-fed persuasion. because dear readers, let me share this bit of news with you. the party is OVER. but i’d still like a steak on occasion, and this seems to be a viable way to go. now, is bison akin to a super prime lobel’s steak, dripping with beefy goodness? honestly no, but we both liked the flavor. cooked rare and in all its leanness, it scratched the red meat itch. and i can live with that quite happily, if not smugly.
i’ve been writing this post in my head for weeks now, trying to come up with a way for ceF to continue on while i lean down – without boring you to tears. and i think that really, all i can do is to :
stay within my guidelines
and talk about it
i will admit to you that i feel a bit desperate. i have an entire wardrobe – and it’s a damn fine one, currently unwearable – at least by me. i’ve been relegated to the "stretchy and baggy" section of my closet. quite frankly, i’m much more than a little embarrassed.
and because i’m now closer to 50 than 40, and because of my (in)activity level, it’s going to take super low calories to get me where i need to be. there are no special diets or pills. no rocket science. no secrets. it’s calories in vs. calories burned. and it’s getting as many nutrients into those calories as you can. which means sugar and fat grams have to stay lower then i like to entertain the thought of…
ok, so that’s where i am. i hope you’ll still stop by while i shift my focus to the leaner side of the food spectrum. obviously the fat epidemic is a national problem and those of us who are affected handle it in different ways. all i know to do is to take it a day at a time and cut back on my caloric intake, try to move more – and breathe deeply.
oh, and to buy a new car. because if i can’t eat pork belly, cheese and chocolate then in the interim i want to ride my fat ass around in some shiny german steel with serious horsepower.
because i am after all, merely a silly little human.