Weigh-In Tuesday and a Soapbox Rant

Today I'd like to share with you another 1.4 pound weight loss!!!

(Source)

Well, thank you, Mr. President. :0)


I'm still feeling really good about my progress. Yes, there are things I could be doing better (eating more veggies comes to mind) but I've made huge strides these last few weeks to improve my health, and I'm feeling stronger and leaner every day!

That's my "Popeye" face.

I'm battling a little with what I'm calling "The Biggest Loser Mentality." If you've ever seen the show, you know that any given contestant can lose up to 15 pounds or more in one week. Every Tuesday, when I step on that scale knowing how good I feel and how much better I look, I'm always expecting to see a major difference in my weight from the week before. And when the scale only moves a pound or two, I feel disappointed.


Logically I know that a steady 2 pounds per week weight loss is ideal--not just because it's healthier, but it's easier to maintain over time.


But emotionally---I want that "HOLY FREAKIN' COW DID I REALLY JUST LOSE 14 POUNDS?!?!?" moment.

(Source)

But usually, after I think about it for awhile, and receive a pep-talk (usually accompanied by graphs and/or charts) from "trainer" and BFF, Dana, I immediately start feeling better about my progress.


So, with today's 1.4 loss, that brings my total weight loss to 

5.3 pounds! Woohoo!!!

Yay me!


So, while we're on the subject of weight loss and general healthiness, I'd like to dust off my soapbox for a minute and share my two cents on a current news story you may have heard about--namely, the Paula Deen controversy.


For those who haven't heard, Deen recently made a statement that she had been diagnosed with Type 2 Diabetes. She'd known about it for awhile before coming out to the public, and now has made a lucrative deal with the company that creates the meds she's taking for the illness. She has been publicly crucified by health organizations, media outlets, and even her own peers, for continuing to serve the same southern comfort foods on her show and in her restaurant, despite her diagnosis.

(source)

Celebrity chef Anthony Bourdain has been one of Paula's biggest critics from the very beginning. When asked his opinion about Paula's recent news, he responded, "When your signature dish is hamburger in between a doughnut, and you've been cheerfully selling this stuff knowing all along that you've got Type 2 diabetes ... it's in bad taste if nothing else."


Let me say this: I've been a big Paula Deen Fan for many years. I own at least 4 of her cookbooks. I have met her and her husband, Michael. And I have dined in her restaurant. One of my favorite possessions is my Paula Deen apron, which reads "The Lady Can Cook."

However, that I am a bonafide Paula Deen fan has absolutely no bearings on how I felt when I first heard about this story. 

My first reaction was empathy for her family. Both of my parents also have Type 2 Diabetes, and I know the struggle that it is to completely overhaul your entire lifestyle in the name of health. It's difficult both emotionally and physically (especially when your Mom craves chocolate like mine does.)

After that initial wave of empathy, though, I was left feeling angry. Angry for Paula that she has become the media's poster child for "Fat Southern Woman with Diabetes." Angry that she's being touted as irresponsible because she hasn't changed the recipes featured on her show. 

Angry that she's being held responsible for an entire nation's eating habits.

If you've ever seen Paula's show, you know that she makes comfort food. There's no questioning the fact that she uses full fat ingredients, ranging from butter to sour cream, in practically every dish she serves. Do I have her cookbooks? Yes. Do I cook from them every single night? No. Why? Because I know that eating like that leads to weight gain, and that weight gain leads to other health problems. Like Type 2 Diabetes.

I know that chowing down on Paula's sinful Lemon Cake is an indulgence. Just like a big slice of pizza, an even bigger cheese burger, or a vat of ice cream. It's a "once in awhile" thing, not an every day thing. Everything in moderation--that's the key.

I liken it to blaming McDonald's for America's obesity problem. Here's the thing, people: McDonald's serves what sells. Fatty french fries, greasy burgers, "chicken" nuggets--that's what people want when they hit the drive-thru.

I use the word "chicken" lightly, because what you're really getting is breaded, deep fried pink goo:

(source)

How many boxes of chicken nuggets do you think McDonald's would sell if they had THAT picture on the box? 

How does this relate to the Paula Deen controversy? Simply this: if you've been remotely educated in the human body, you know that you can't eat rich, creamy, fattening foods every day of your life without suffering the consequences. Some people, including Paula (and myself up until about 3 weeks ago) choose to take their chances with those consequences. Punishing her by humiliating her publicly and using her as a scapegoat isn't going to end the obesity epidemic in our country. 

But education, honesty, and individual responsiblity might.

Paula continued with her show, and her restaurant, and her recipes, not because she wants to harm the public, but because it is her national identity. She became famous for her southern style of cooking. To expect her to immediately change her MO because of her own personal (private) health concerns would be like asking the CEO of McDonald's to take chicken nuggets off the menu because of the above picture that was leaked to the media.

As long as we're buying, they're playing, people. And as long as we continue to place the blame on others, rather than with ourselves, America is destined to be fat forever.

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

I wish Paula Deen nothing but the best in her battle against diabetes. I'm sure that, over the course of the next few years, we'll see a big change in how she conducts her show. I'll keep watching, enjoying her adorable on-screen personality, and saving that Stick to Your Teeth Chocolate cookie recipe for a special occasion.

As for the McDonald's reference, the same information could be given about most every fast food restaurant in the world. I just chose McDonald's for this blog because of the photo above, which came through my Facebook news feed a few days ago. It seemed relevant to this story, so I shared it. I like McDonald's french fries as much as the next guy, but I'm dedicated to spending my money where it best influences my new healthy lifestyle. And McDonald's ain't that place.

Today I Answer An Age-Old Question

Who would you invite to a dinner party? Dead or alive, famous or not, real or fictional---if you could have anyone over to your house for a meal, who would you choose?


I've heard so many answers to this question. Some names are synonymous with dinner party: Oprah, Abraham Lincoln, Jesus (especially if he does that water to wine trick), Marilyn Monroe, the President. I've heard others answer with their favorite celebrity crush, rock star, movie star, or person they'd most like to sleep with. 


My answers might surprise you. But I've put a lot of thought into the people I'd invite, and why. Here's what my ideal dinner party would look like:

Ah, yes. A motley crew. Let me explain my guest list.


Buffy the Vampire Slayer:
Not only is she funny, clever, quick-witted and adorable, she's downright mean with a knife. That takes care of the carving station. She'd also be handy to have around in case of a Zombie Attack. (What? Zombies like dinner parties, too.) I'd try desperately not to bore her with frequent comments of "You're so awesome, Buffy!" and "Can we be best pals?" But I might not be able to stop myself. Not to mention, if she comes to dinner, then the likelihood that Spike will stalk follow her and hide in the bushes outside increases tenfold. Which also increases the likelihood that I'll get to meet Spike. Score!


Howie Mandel:
I find him to be charming, funny, and a witty conversationalist. I'm sure if we swear not to touch him, and provide him with copious amounts of Purell, he might actually come and have a good time. If we're really lucky, we might be able to convince him to do some voices from his 80s cartoon, Bobby's World. Let's face it, every dinner party needs someone to be the comedian. Howie is my pick.


My best friend and college roommate, Jenna:
First and foremost, I'd invite her because I love her to bits and she's always fun to have around. But more importantly, if I invited Buffy, and didn't invite Jenna, it may be the end of our friendship. You see, we both have a major love affair for all-things-Buffy. And I'd hate to lose my best friend by failing to allow her the opportunity to dine with our favorite super hero. (And also, if Buffy comes, the likelihood that Angel might follow her and hide in the bushes outside increases tenfold. Which also increases the likelihood that Jenna would get to meet Angel. Score!)


Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore:
He is, hands down, my favorite fictional character of all time. I love everything about Professor Dumbledore--from his penchant for profound words of wisdom to his reverence for all things childish--and the idea of getting to sit beside him over a plate of fried chicken and pick his brain about all things magical sends tingles down my spine. It's the closest thing this Muggle could get to real magic, and I'd be 100% on board. Plus, if the zombies get out of hand and Buffy gets swamped, Dumbledore could help out with a few Bat Bogey Hexes. And as an extra bonus, I bet if we asked him real nice like, he'd bring us some goodies from the Harry Potter world---Bertie Bott's  Every Flavored Beans for dessert, anyone?


And finally, Paula Deen:
She's sweet, she's silly, she's a wiz in the kitchen, and everyone loves her. Plus, I wouldn't have to cook. But if I insisted on being in the kitchen, she'd be right there beside me, whipping up some of her famous hoe cakes and talking my ear off about her southern roots and sharing with me the secrets of truly fluffy buttermilk biscuits. I can't imagine a more wonderful way to spend an afternoon in the kitchen.


Unless maybe my Dad was there.


Shoot, now I have to invite my Dad...I'm gonna need a bigger table.

The Evolution of My Chef-Like Self

The year: 2001. The place: my first apartment. The occasion: my first "dinner party."

The telephone conversation went something like this:

Dad: "Hello?"

Abby: "Hi Daddy! Whatcha doin?"

Dad: "Oh, just sitting here watching the game. State's down by 8. What's my little girl doing today?"

Abby: "Well, I'm having some people over to see the apartment, and I'm going to fix them dinner."

Dad: Silence.

Abby: "What? I can totally do it."

Dad: Silence.

Abby: "Dad, c'mon. I'm a smart kid. I can do it. I just need your help."

Dad: "I don't think I can be there before your guests arrive."

Abby: "I don't want to you to come cook! I want you to answer some basic cooking questions for me."

Dad: "Ok, shoot."

Abby: "Ok. So, I'm making spaghetti. My first question is, how do I cook the noodles?"

I'm hoping that this conversation will illustrate to you, dear reader, just how inadequate I was in the kitchen. I could slap together a PBJ with the best of them. And I made a mean Pop-Tart. But other than that---no knowledge at ALL.

That first pot of spaghetti was probably horrible. I honestly don't remember. I was so proud of my accomplishment, of having my first dinner party, that it could've tasted horrible and I just wouldn't remember.

Fast forward a few months, when I started dating my husband. Now here was a man who was self-sufficient. Earlier in our friendship, when we were all still living in the dormitories at Appalachian State University, B had made an entire lasagna dinner for his friends. Lasagna--from scratch. Big tossed salad with fresh veggies. Garlic bread that was to-die-for. Shortly after we began courting, B started teaching me a thing or two in the kitchen. Methods of cooking, a few fail proof recipes, how to grill a steak. It was like a light switch went off in my head.

By the time we moved into together, my curiosity about cooking increased. We now had the Food Network, and I would watch Emeril, Rachael Ray, Paula Deen, and Bobby Flay for HOURS. I started buying cook books, and experimenting in the kitchen.

By the time we moved to Charleston, I had most of the basics down. I could follow a recipe easily enough, and most of the time, they would turn out how I expected. Certainly, there were mishaps (please don't ever ask about the peach pie incident, unless you want to make me cry), but I felt that I was making progress.

I got my first real chef's knife as a wedding gift in 2004. After that, the sky was the limit.

I can saute, grill, pan-sear and roast with the best of them. I can see a recipe that sounds sort of interesting and make it my own. I can wow the taste buds of my husband, my family, and my friends. I can bake cupcakes, birthday cakes, and the best damn Christmas cookies you ever put in your face.

Abby--Official Foodie and Apron-Wearer

And I honestly, truly love it. 

I spend every Sunday with my Mom and Dad. And it's my favorite day of the week. Dad and I start planning dinner while we're still eating breakfast. We shop together, carefully choosing the perfect ingredients, squeezing tomatoes and smelling basil and buying only the choicest fish. We chop together, season together, inhale the wonderful aromas together, taste sauces together. And revel in our success when the dish makes my Mom say, "Yum."

And I owe it all to my hubby, and my teachers at the Food Network. Because truly, I learned everything from knife skills to cooking techniques from that channel. It was like culinary school, from the comfort of my own home.

Thanks to the best teachers, ever.

My next step in taking over the world of food---growing my own garden. And making gazpacho from my own veggies. Move over, Barefoot Contessa, Abby's moving in.