Comfortably Numb

Food is the most primitive form of comfort.
- Sheilah Graham

Rainy days require a special sort of planning and essentials to make it through. For me, it takes an amount of willpower and strength (and repeated “You are going to make us late, GET UP”-type comments) before I can even put one foot on the floor. The temptation to pull the covers over my head, sleep til noon, then spend a day on the couch with my grandmother’s quilt, watching crappy tv and eating equally crappy foods (think: potato soup followed by chips and queso followed by cupcakes followed by French fries) is far too strong.

But let’s say you do get out of bed. That leads to the shower that isn’t long enough, the tea that isn’t strong enough, and the clothes that aren’t comfy enough. Figuring out what to wear on a rainy blah day is tough. The pants can’t be too long or they’ll stay damp all day. The shoes have to be safe so you don’t slip and fall (and trust me on this, I don’t own any of said shoes). When all you want to do is curl up in a ball, comfort is key.

Comfort is also key when it comes to rainy day cuisine. I have found, after years of living in Nashville, the most exceptional collection of comfort foods that are best suited to gloomy days…be it due to weather, breakups, mood swings, or any combination of the three.

First we have Amerigo's, and the smoked chicken ravioli. It’s served with a cream sauce that has the perfect balance of depth and lightness, with tomatoes and scallions, accompanied by a flash fried artichoke.

Along that same vein, I urge that Demos' Steak & Spaghetti House is next on the list. They have two stuffed potatoes, one with seafood in a Newburg Sauce and diced tomatoes, onions, peppers, and mushrooms, and one with blackened chicken and a spicy Cajun cream sauce. Both are served with soup or salad, and are just the right amount.

On the days where it’s rainy, yet warm, I prefer a Fried Green Tomato BLT from
Jackson’s. They have a covered patio, perfect for protection from the rain and people watching. A glass of fruit tea or wine, and I forget whatever foul mood I’m in. Another great rainy day sandwich is found at The Yellow Porch, an intimate setting with exceptional food. I have never been there where I ordered anything other than the White Cheddar and Tomato Panini.

My husband wants nothing more on a rainy day than to go to Noshville and have Matzah ball soup. Regardless of the time of day, I’m hard pressed to steer from the French toast when we go there. It’s perfectly cooked and exactly what I search for in comfort food…warmth, texture, and above all else, filling.

On days where I don't want to get out of the house, I rely on beef stroganoff to get me through...this is one of my all-time favorite dishes and there's nothing better than tender beef and creamy tangy sauce to soothe what ails me.


Beef Stroganoff

Beef filets, cut into cubes
Fresh sliced mushrooms (optional)
Butter or margarine
½ small onion, finely chopped
Garlic
Flour
1 cup of beef broth, or 1 beef bullion cube
Worcestershire
1 16 oz container Sour Cream
Rice or egg noodles for serving
Salt & pepper to taste

Heat 2 tbsps. Butter or margarine in medium saucepan until melted but not brown. Add onion and sauté until tender and transparent, about 5 minutes. Add garlic, mushrooms, and cubed steak, and cook until mushrooms are tender and beef is browned throughout (about 5-7 minutes). Remove onion, garlic, and beef from the pan, reserving the liquid.

Add a tbsp of flour at a time to the liquid, until mixture becomes thick. Slowly add hot beef broth, a bit at a time, until fully absorbed. Once it has become slightly thick and creamy, add a dash or two of Worcestershire to the pan.

Return the cooked beef and onions to the pan, stirring into the sauce, until fully mixed. Add the sour cream and serve over cooked rice or egg noodles. Top with green onions if desired.

Resolutions & Revelations

There is a charm about the forbidden that makes it unspeakably desirable.
- Mark Twain

This is the time of year when diets are all the rage…when everywhere I go, everywhere I turn, I listen to friends, family, old coworkers, and strangers discussing their resolution to eat better. If I took the time to write it all down, only to go back to those same people 2 months from now, the number of people who fell off the diet wagon would surely be astonishing.

I’m not a believer in diets…nor am I a believer in resolutions. Maybe it’s because I know I can’t stick to them, and I refuse to believe in something that for me simply doesn’t exist. Maybe it’s because I’m too stubborn to deny myself the foods I want when I want them. Maybe it’s because so far, I’ve been fairly blessed in my ability to simply cut back, as opposed to cutting off. Chances are it’s a combination of the three. Regardless, I don’t do it.

It dawns on me every so often that I’ve taken things above and beyond…that I’ve eaten lunch out every day in a week, that I haven’t been to the grocery store in two weeks to buy fresh produce, that my dinner last night consisted of cashews and wine. When that happens, I turn it back a notch. I get a grip, put things in perspective, and slow down. It seems like an unhealthy cycle, but I appease myself by saying that it’s no crash diet, no harsh criticism, and no worries.
As I get older, I realize it won’t always be this easy. My metabolism is slowing, and the pounds will get more stubborn with age. I balance that with the knowledge that as I get older, I’ll get smarter. I’ll take notice of the increasing frequency of heartburn and sour bellies that I induce on myself by eating poorly….I’ll speak to myself with a voice louder and more insistent than the one I use now.

The fact that I'm rapidly gaining weight due to this ever-growing baby makes the food fight within me all the more frustrating. Every bit of food that passes my lips is met with guilt - less so when I'm following a nutrient-rich regimen for the benefit of the baby, more so when I'm indulging the new sweet tooth I've acquired since I became pregnant. It's easy to worry about how I'll take the weight off, and easy to get upset with myself for putting on too much weight as a result of poor willpower.

But for the time being, I’ll enjoy it. And if that means sitting down to this cheesecake inspired by one of my favorite desserts, Nutty Buddy ice cream cones, so be it.

Nutty Buddy Cheesecake Pie

12 sugar cones, crushed
1 stick butter, softened
1 8 oz. package cream cheese, softened
1 package Cool Whip
¼ cup sugar
½ cup chopped peanus
½ cup melted chocolate

- Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
- Combine crushed sugar cones and butter until just moistened and fully mixed. Spread mixture in bottom of greased springform pan and bake 5-7 minutes, or until crust is browned.
- Meanwhile, beat cream cheese, Cool Whip, and sugar in medium bowl until light and fluffy.
- Once crust has completely cooled, spread cream cheese mixture on top of crust. Drizzle with melted chocolate and chopped peanuts and freeze until firm (25 minutes).

Peeling the Appealing

And every day when I've been good, I get an orange after food.
- Robert Louis Stevenson




I’m never nearly as determined and specific as I am when eating citrus fruit. In every instance, I find myself meticulous in preparation and care. Tangerines become challenges in which the perfect peel is the ultimate goal, with tiny uniform sections delicate yet strong with juice that bursts forward. Softball sized grapefruits require focus on thick-skinned segments that must be handled and overcome. Even lemons and limes receive special attention, ensuring that slices are even and practically transparent.

Maintaining a balanced, loving relationship requires many of the same components. There are days when the stubborn nature of a loved one seems insurmountable at first glance, but with the proper handling, can unravel and break down into a manner worth every minute’s work. People are delicate at first glance, while proving themselves much stronger than even they could have guessed. By taking the time to delve beneath the skin that can be bitter, tough, virtually inedible, and finding there the sweetest, most vibrant sensation – we unearth the ultimate reward.

Can I Get You a Beer?

Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy.
- Benjamin Franklin

I'm not much of a beer drinker. (And before you get all indignant that I shouldn't be a beer drinker while pregnant, I'll clarify that I wasn't much of a beer drinker before I got pregnant.) I enjoy a glass or twelve of wine (again, not currently) but the love for beer solely belongs to my husband.

However, when we were driving home from eating breakfast at a new place in our neighborhood yesterday (more on that later), I noted the cold dry day and decided that it would be the perfect day for soup. A quick stop at the grocery store gave me all I needed to toss together a warm gooey beer cheese soup, and we spent a lazy afternoon watching football and playing Scrabble while it simmered away in the Crock Pot.

This recipe (and I use that term loosely) produces a good amount of soup, enough for leftovers the next day.

Beer Cheese Soup

Celery, onions, carrots, diced (about 2 cups total)
4 cups low sodium chicken stock
1 block 2% milk Velveeta, cubed
1 1/2 cups beer
Paprika, garlic powder, worcestershire, spicy mustard to taste

Combine all ingredients except beer in Crock Pot - I set mine to the "high, 6 hours" setting and then turned it down to low about 4 hours in. Once vegetables are tender and cheese has thoroughly melted, puree with immersion blender until smooth. Add beer and continue cooking on low until ready to serve.

I also had some whole wheat hamburger buns that were nearing the end of their shelf life, so I cubed them, tossed them with olive oil, garlic powder, salt & pepper and toasted them in a 200 degree oven for about 20 minutes. They were a great addition to the soup.

I may not be a beer drinker, but this I can get behind.

A Recipe for Success

People who like to cook like to talk about food....without one cook giving another cook a tip or two, human life might have died out a long time ago.


- Laurie Colwin
I still haven't been doing much in the way of cooking - and by "much", I mean virtually nothing. This is not to say we haven't had great meals - or that the notions of food and cooking have disappeared from my radar. I'm still obsessed with new recipes, meal planning, and consuming delicious dishes. It's simply that my obsessions have recreated themselves in a new manner of sorts.

I recently switched magazine subscriptions, so instead of my monthly Food & Wine, I now await the arrival of Real Simple and Everyday Food (not to mention the pass-along copies of Southern Living, Better Homes & Gardens, and Ladies Home Journal that my mom gives me once she has finished them). I have a system for reading magazines. The publications that are combinations of recipes, home tips, and stories are saved in the rack for a rainy day - but the ones dedicated to food and recipes receive a special sort of attention. I won't begin reading one until I know I have the time to enjoy it cover to cover. I dog-ear pages that I want to return to, add to my list of must-cook recipes, and make mental notes about which dishes I want to try first.

In addition to reading about food, I've taken to conducting a sort of cooking school in my kitchen. My husband loves to cook, and until recently has rarely been given the reins when it comes to preparing our meals. He is now in charge of dinner most nights, and breakfast and lunch on the weekends. This means I sit nearby, tossing out directions for the recipes he isn't as familiar with, and throwing suggestions his way that he probably doesn't need or want. The results have been incredible - biscuits & gravy from scratch, beef stroganoff, pan-seared salmon, pot roast hash with crispy roasted potatoes....the list goes on and on.

My odd cravings have also led us to many different restaurants around town - a late afternoon craving for sushi led us to one of our favorite spots, where I forlornly passed over the "real" sushi and settled for a cucumber roll. The need for smoked chicken ravioli took us to Amerigo's, the desire for a BLT and a spicy, salty pickle to a nearby deli.

Obviously, Thanksgiving weekend will provide plenty of additional food fodder - I'm responsible for macaroni & cheese and rolls at lunch with one set of family members, and pies for dinner with another. I've read many recipes, and assuming I can get my husband to help, I should be set.

A Change Will Do You Good

Life is always at some turning point.
- Irwin Edman



The past few months have consisted of many changes in our life and our routines. It obviously began when I quit my job, which affected us in many more ways than we could have anticipated - both good and bad. We went from riding to work together, working together, riding home from work together, and discussing work together, to seeing each other in the mornings and evenings and being able to discuss items outside of the other's realm.


The housework and errand system we'd set up was altered as well - since I was at home, I took care of it. Gone were the Saturday mornings trying to catch up on laundry, Saturday afternoons polishing the floors and sweeping the porch, the Sunday afternoons at the grocery store and Sunday evenings bathing the dogs. We now enjoy lazy weekends doing anything and everything we want, without guilt over what responsibilites may be falling by the wayside.


Without a doubt, the largest change we are experiencing is yet to come - but we are in the midst of preparing both mentally and emotionally for the increase in the size of our family. This not only means there are no more evenings spent enjoying a glass of wine with dinner (for me, anyway), but it now encompasses so much more.


The one thing that has been affected most by each of these changes is the way we eat. First and foremost, my being at home during the day has allowed for more home cooked meals, new recipes, and increased creativity in the kitchen. Breakfasts and lunches became more than a matter of convenience. I was able to delve into the piles of recipes in my "to cook" list.


Now, the way we eat has taken yet another turn. My queasy stomach, combined with the immense fatigue I've been experiencing, has removed me from the kitchen and put my husband in charge of meals- which has more often than not been little more than a can of soup and fruit (or whatever it may be that I can stomach at the time).


But finally - finally - I felt the desire to get into the kitchen on Friday. Our Friday evenings used to be spent decompressing from the week, relaxing and basking in the glow of knowing we could sleep in the next morning. This past Friday actually felt like that again - my husband brought home new records for us to play, we chatted about our week while we snacked on cheese, crackers, and smoked trout - all while a pot of roasted red pepper soup simmered on the stove. I got back in the kitchen, and it felt great...for a change.


Roasted Red Pepper Soup
1 stick butter
1/2 onion, chopped
1 tsp. minced garlic
2-12 oz. jars roasted red peppers
2 tomatoes, diced
14 oz. can tomato sauce
2 cups chicken stock
1 cup heavy cream
Basil, oregano, salt & pepper (to taste)


- Melt butter in skillet; add onion and garlic and saute until onions are tender

- Combine onions, red peppers, tomatoes, tomato sauce, and chicken stock in large pot; add seasonings to taste and simmer for about 25-30 minutes.

- Using an immersion blender, puree mixture until creamy

- Add heavy cream and let simmer another 5-10 minutes

The Newest Addition

The primary requisite for writing well about food is a good appetite.
- A. J. Liebling

I feel it coming back - the desire to get back into the kitchen. I have a grocery list written that does not contain ginger ale, crackers, or chicken broth - and this afternoon will be spent trying some new recipes that I'll be sure to share.

In the meantime, I have a new blog under my ever expanding belt - I'll be updating baby news there, while keeping Any Little Reason purely about food. The Littlest Reason is up and running, for anyone interested in hearing me ramble about something other than my culinary preferences.

To Eat, or Not To Eat

So where did these cravings come from? I concluded it's the baby ordering in. Prenatal takeout. Even without ever being in a restaurant, fetuses develop remarkably discerning palates, and they are not shy about demanding what they want. If they get a hankering, they just pick up the umbilical cord and call. 'You know what would taste good right now? A cheeseburger, large fries, and a vanilla shake. And if you could, hurry it up, because I'm supposed to grow a lung in a half hour.

- Paul Reiser, 'Babyhood'

At this point, I don't know what is stronger - the cravings or the aversions. The constant nausea (whoever coined the phrase "morning sickness" apparently never experienced midday sickness, late afternoon sickness, evening sickness, and in-the-dead-of-night sickness) is only eased by allowing food to pass my lips every two hours. It's the most bizarre sensation to use food to comfort a stomach on the verge - and yet, it's the only thing that works (resulting heartburn aside).

I'm snacking between meals on applesauce, crackers with peanut butter, fruit, cheese, and carrot sticks - the only things that sound appealing. As far as meals go, there is a short list of options - cereal, soup, waffles, grilled cheese - with the occasional wild card thrown in, such as tacos, beef stroganoff, german potato salad.

Enter the aversions - there are the foods that I've always loved, that have been my go-to meals in a pinch - that send me reeling at the mere mention or thought of them. Eggs, chicken, pizza, pasta...

The scariest and saddest thing for me at this point is my pure avoidance of the kitchen. I have no desire to cook, I extract no joy from planning meals and flipping through my favorite cookbooks, and I'm lacking both the energy and the capacity to stand in front of the stove while enduring the smells and sights before me.

Everything I've read and heard leads me to believe this will soon pass - and I'm encouraged that will be true.

The Days of our Lives

Ponder well on this point: the pleasant hours of our life are all connected by a more or less tangible link, with some memory of the table.

- Charles Pierre Monselet

We all have them - the days that we count as significant and meaningful, that we celebrate year after year. The most obvious of these are birthdays and anniversaries, but there are others that can be included in the history of who we are.

August 25th, 2005 is the day I'll always remember as the first time I saw the man that would become my husband, while October 27th of the same year holds a place as the first time we had a conversation and I realized he was the one.

By January of 2006, we were all but living together - and we signed the papers on the purchase of our first home six months later, on June 30th.

Almost a year later, on June 6, he asked me to be his wife - and on September 29th, 2007, we stood before friends and family to say our vows and begin our lives as a married couple.

Now, we have a new date to add to the list.

June 19, 2009 - the due date of our first child.

Turned Off

Once you get into the groove of things and in the mood you are usually fine; it is before the event that you get nervous and irritable.

- John Gallagher

I am uninspired. I am uncertain as to what's causing it, therefore unable to undo it. Lately, I can only summon the energy to eat out, order in, or throw together the simplest of meals. Breakfast is a bowl of cereal with fruit, or toast with apple butter. Gone are the biscuits and gravy made from scratch, the quiches, pancakes. Lunches have consisted of BLT's, grilled cheese sandwiches, cans of organic soup heated up and eaten standing over the sink. Midafternoon snacks have returned in the form of popcorn, peanut butter & crackers, fruit, and ice cream. Dinner is Chinese takeout, a taco bar thrown together just in time for Monday Night Football, or pot pies.

I open the fridge or freezer on a daily basis, and I see brisket, tilapia, filets, sweet potatoes and fresh produce light up with the prospect of being plucked from their perch. I then plunge them back into darkness as I reach only for a bottle of water.

I hope this passes soon - I long for the day that the urge to tie on an apron and spend hours in the kitchen overcomes me. I anticipate the late afternoon question of "What's for dinner" - and instead of the blank stares I emit currently, I am eager to be filled with inspiration and desire to create something new, or at the very least, an old favorite.