Heidi's

Busy but quiet weekend, kind of like jumbo shrimp.

We hosted our first dinner with friends on Saturday evening. It went really well. Had a great time and drank one too many PBRs. I made a spectacular minimalist potato salad, which I'm sure you can make from your pantry today. It's basic but so perfect. I have to share the recipe

* Coarse salt and ground pepper
* 3 pounds waxy potatoes (such as Yukon gold or new), scrubbed and cut into 3/4-inch cubes
* 1/3 cup white-wine vinegar
* 4 scallions, white part minced, green part thinly sliced
* 3/4 cup light mayonnaise (Hellmann's)

1. Set a steamer basket in a Dutch oven (or large pot with a lid), and add enough salted water to come just below basket; bring to a boil.

2. Place potatoes in basket, cover pot, and reduce heat to a gentle simmer. Steam potatoes, gently tossing occasionally, until tender, 15 to 25 minutes.

3. Meanwhile, in a large bowl, combine vinegar, scallion whites, 1 teaspoon coarse salt, and teaspoon pepper.

4. Add hot potatoes to vinegar mixture; toss to combine. Cool to room temperature, tossing occasionally, about 1 hour.

5. Add mayonnaise and scallion greens to cooled potatoes; mix gently to combine. Serve, or cover and refrigerate up to 2 days.

I think it's the steaming of the potatoes versus boiling that does it. All I know is that it was a hit. I'm not a huge fan of mayo stuff, but this was mighty fine.

In other news, Dan bought a new LCD TV and surround sound for our family room. Currently we have a 30-some inch LCD Sony and we decided on getting a 46" Sony Bravia LCD and moving the current TV down in to the basement, which is still empty waiting on some decorating and furniture love. I wanted to get plasma, but where the TV sits in the family room (across from windows), it doesn't make sense.

When it comes to buying electronics and gadgets and things of that sort, he'll always get clearance from the tower. Of course, he did want the 52" and I had to gently, but firmly veto that.

Food has always played a big role in my life, unfortunately. It's been my comfort and my enemy all in the same breath. Like right now, it's 7:00 am and I'm thinking about where I can score lunch, like a junkie. It really shouldn't be that important. I really get that concept. However, I turn to it celebrate and I turn to it to make pain go away. It usually does a pretty good job until after.

Food for me is a daily struggle, minute-by-minute. I'm sure a few of you can relate to what I'm talking about. No matter how hard I try, I'll never be one of those people who eats to live....I'm quite the opposite of that. I figure, though, if I have come to terms with that, and learn how to deal with it half the time, then I'm ahead in the game.

How do I answer the above question? I think the list of foods I can't stomach is way shorter. Sad, I know.

Foods this girl can't live without:

1. Steak, red meat. I was a vegetarian for over 10 years until one day I decided I needed a big, fat juicy steak. Oh I ordered me up a big one, ate it and promptly got sick. However, it was the end of my leaf-eating days.

2. Sushi. My favorites are the salmon and super white tuna. For a while, right after my surgery, about 8-9 years ago, sushi was the only thing I could stomach. I ate it twice a week. Now I'm seriously wondering about the mercury levels in my blood. That could explain the thermometer...never mind.

3. Pasta. Oh, momma didn't grow this butt from red beans and rice. I'm a good EyeTalian girl who was raised on Pastina with butter and cheese as a baby. To this day, pasta is my ultimate comfort food, even above chocolate. It reminds me of my little porn-loving nani who used to feed us so well. At Nani's house, if she asked if  you wanted seconds, you had to temper your response. If you said, "Yes Nani, " she'd load your plate up a second time just like the first and then some. If you said, "Just a little Nani," she'd give you half a plate, and if you said "No thanks, Nani. I'm full" (heaven forbid), she'd give you a couple spoonfuls just for good measure. (And you wonder why I have weight issues.)

4. Veggies. After my stomach surgery of 8-9 years ago, I can only eat so much protein and usually when I have a plate of food, I'll always eat the veggies first and go back for veggies before I even finish my meat or fish product. I guess I'm a conflicted vegetarian at heart.

5. Chocolate. Enuff said there, but only in small bits.

Foods I can't stomach. Keep in mind, though, that I have altered intestines and to this day, a lot things still don't set right with me.

1. Cream Sauces. Oh things like fettucini alfredo I can't even think about eating. Having anything with a cream sauce puts me on the night train to nausea. Double goes for mayo and cream dressings. *gag*

2.  Fried Foods. I know...read it again, please...I said fried foods. I can only eat them in moderation. If I ever order even a small-sized order of McDonald's french fries, I'm flirting with disaster. Just thinking about fried foods makes me a little green.

3. Ice Cream. Sorry, can't do it. Want to see Heidi vomit and then lay down and moan for days? Give her a big bowl of ice cream. Pity, isn't it?

4. Overabundance of Cheese. I bet you're thinking right about now, boy, she sure is taking the fun out of this. Don't get me wrong, I like cheese just like the next guy. Pile it deep and high in my deep-dish pizza. But cover my meat product with cheese ala cheeseburger and I'll say thanks, but no thanks.

When I first had my surgery, I was sad to lose my friends from the can't stomach list. Very sad if I recall correctly. But I've learned over the years to eat simpler, plainer, less dressed food and now I can't live without it.

Tell me why I'm not 120 pounds? Ohhhh, that's right, I remember now. I left a 5th item off the "foods I love list". SALTY/CRUNCHY SNACKS!

My grandfather was a baker. He owned a bakery on the northwest side of Chicago for close to 50 years. You can safely say I was raised as a baked goods snob. When other kids had Wonder bread in their school lunches, I was dining on fresh-baked, crusty white bread from grandpa. Of course, I didn't really realize how good I had it at the time and always coveted my schoolmate's Wonder bread. But to this day, I still remember just how good that fresh bread tasted, and not much compares.

Dan's dad was a farmer. He raised Angus and acres of corn. You can also say that Dan is not only a steak snob, but knows his corn as well. On a side note, Dan's dad is a "retired" farmer these days, but still has the Angus and the best steak I've ever tasted. Dan hardly ever orders steak when we're out to eat as he's usually disappointed. I don't understand it sometimes...what meat or corn tastes "off" to him, tastes fine to me. Again, a lot of it comes from what remember growing up.

Over the holiday weekend, I happened to hear Tyler Florence of the Food Network give out a recipe for the most foolproof method of cooking corn-on-the-cob. Tyler advised me to take the NON husked ears of corn, silk and all, straight from my grocery bag, on to a cookie sheet and in to a 350 degree oven for 30 minutes. He assured me that this method not only steamed it tender, but roasted it, locking in that corny flavor we all wait for.

I was skeptical. But last night, in a rush to get dinner on the table, I tried it. While the meat was grilling, I put the corn in the oven, husks and all. Yeah, so it was a bit of a challenge actually de-husking the corn once it came out of the hot oven. But it was nothing that quick work with a paper towel couldn't handle.

Now let me assure you, if I ever want to cook corn-on-the-cob, this is the way I'm going to do it from now on. (With the exception of sometimes actually roasting it on the grill sans husk to get those dark, roasty grill marks.)

Tyler was right. The corn turned out perfect. Corn is not yet in season here in Chicago, but the corn we had last night, probably from Georgia, was sweet and perfect using this method. Even Dan was impressed with the taste. It needed no butter and just a bit of salting. I can't wait for August when the corn around here is ready.

Give it a try.

So I was having a skinny day until the guys invited me out to the evil that is the Chinese buffet.

I think I'm going to go be sick now.

Edit to Add: And now I really don't even feel like going to the gym. I feel like just going home and embracing the start of the holiday weekend. But alas, my car will drive itself over to the gym because I'll be so ridden with guilt. **sighs**

There is a very small chain of restaurants in the Fox Valley area where I live called Colonial Cafe. They're specifically known for making their own ice cream, and what a fine ice cream it is.

Colonial has something called "The Kitchen Sink." It contains the following: 6 BIG scoops of ice cream, 2 bananas, hot fudge, and a mountain of whip cream, not to mention the cherry on top. It is appropriately served up in a kitchen sink. If a patron orders one, a bright red bumper sticker that reads "I ate a Colonial Kitchen Sink" is automatically bestowed upon them whether they finish it or not. (You wouldn't catch me dead with one on my car, or anywhere in my possession. It might as well read, "Yeah, I'm a gluttonous pig. So what?") Most people I know order one for the table to share, and no one ever wants to lay claim to the bumper sticker.

Colonial's latest gimmick promises dinner for two to whomever finishes a Kitchen Sink the quickest for the month dinner for two. Now, my 6'3, 210 pound boyfriend has always been a big eater. At least that's what he says. In the past 6 years, I've never truly seen him strap it on. He talks a big game about eating, but I think he's too conscientious about what goes in his mouth.

The other day he was at Colonial with his parents, and he told me about the challenge. He told me that the last record for April was finishing one in 14 minutes. So I said to him, "I don't think you could eat one all by yourself, let alone in a short amount of time." Well, being the competitive athlete that he was, he said he was up for the challenge. Off we went to Colonial for dinner last night.

Just out of sheer coincidence, a few tables behind us sat a kid about 18 or 19 who ordered one as well, just shortly before us. In the pictures below, you can see the manager in blue standing by the kid's table timing him. They brought the behemoth of a dish but we had to wait until the kid finished before Dan could start on his. The kid finished in 5:25. Dan had a time to beat.

Soon it was his turn and off he went, with me (and some other patrons) cheering him on. Polishing through the bananas first, I could easily see that he was pumped and not to be beaten. Chocolate sauce dripping, melting ice cream on his chin, I urged him on. "Come on, honey, you can do it. Quicker! Faster!"

I seriously didn't think he was going to beat 5:25, but victory was to be his. He finished in a new record of 4:30. He told me he could have finished 30 seconds earlier had he a bigger spoon.  Funny thing is that he felt the need to go shake the boy's hand and say "Nice try, kid."

I was embarrassingly proud of him.

Click for all images...

I read that the man who is responsible for at least some of my cellulite passed away just a day or so ago.

Herb Peterson, the inventor of the Egg McMuffin died at age 89.

When I read the headlines and subsequent obituary, I was certain he had passed of a heart attack. Nope, natural causes...

I am a little bit impressed and a little bit repulsed by the following fact.

Monday, I made meat loaf for dinner. I used almost three pounds of pork and beef to make a meat loaf roughtly the size of a football topped with bacon. I figured whatever we had for leftovers would be more than sufficient for a couple day's worth of lunches.

That night for dinner, I had a piece, one single piece, about an inch thick. I don't remember how many gigantico slices my growing boy Dan consumed, but I know I heard him grunting while he was eating, so it was all good.

Yesterday morning, going to make my lunch and giddy with the promise of a leftover meat loaf sandwhich, I rifled through the fridge (Dan is responsible for clean-up), and for the life of me, I couldn't figure out what happened to the container with the meat loaf.

"Dan?" I called out. "Where did you put the leftover meat loaf?" Silence. "Hon...?" I called again. "I'm trying to make my lunch now. What kind of container did you put it in." Again, nothing but silence.

Thinking he just didn't hear me, I made my way into the bathroom, where he was about to take a shower. There I encountered him, standing with a towel over his head. Guilt permeated the air. I asked, "Did you eat the rest of the meat loaf?" "Well..." he mumbled. "Guilty as framed. It was the dog, Ernie helped me eat it. Yeah, that's it..." Looking at him in disgust and surprise, I said, "You can get away blaming Ernie for your obnoxious gas, but I'm not falling for it on this."

Walking away, I thought, he had consumed over two pounds of meat in one single night. I was strangely impressed by the fact. Gross, yes, I admit it, but fascinating.