Grilled Cheese, Microwaved Eggs, and Snow Days

Grilled Cheese, Microwaved Eggs, and Snow Days

Sigh.

Vegetables? Not much luck.

Healthy food. Pretty much ix-nay on that, either.

Scrambled eggs made in the microwave?? Yep.

I simply hate being cooped up and this damn weather is driving me nuts. Peanut M&M's bought for Valentine's Day in hopes of fun days ahead (ok, at least more pleasant days) eaten before lunch because I am so bored, do not a healthy diet make.

So far, my little jaunt to Chattanooga is really turning out not to be so fun. That darling little food truck with glorious grilled cheeses of all kinds that I found the other day? Definitely down for the count during this weather. A microwaved grilled cheese just isn't the same as one from here - 

Super William's awesome grilled cheese truck in downtown Chattavegas.

Forget the amazing frozen yogurt I got the other day, too. Too cold for it to even wander downtown to see if my favorite spot is open (guessing that would be a wild longshot, anyway).

I was back on the track of eating so healthily before I left home, and really can't put into words fit for print the misery that has been my edible options here. Sharing a fridge, too, is for the birds. It's not for this bird, at least.

I am writing this from the nearby Whole Foods - I braved the sunny but iced and snowed over and simply frigid weather to get to the closest WiFi - and, frankly, it's almost worse looking at all the healthy (hell, at this point the not-as-healthy options sound better since comfort food is all I am craving, honestly) things I can't cook (no stove or even toaster) when I stroll around one of my typical happy places when I have a real kitchen with which to work.

Do I sound really cranky yet? Indeed I am.

This is what I am dealing with, weather wise:

Yes, Atlantans, I feel your pain - except there are NO salt trucks here and Chattanoogans are worse than Atlantans when this kind of weather hits . . .

And this is the kind of stuff the cafe in my building serves on any given day:

Seriously? Not a chance this is passing these lips.

Which makes me feel hangry and like this:

Never thought I'd relate to South Park quite like this...

As I try not to throw a complete, juvenile (even if mostly warranted) tantrum, I ponder what kind of healthy soup I can concoct in my microwave . . .While dreaming of a meal like this:

Ahh, arugula salad with Parmesan and my lemon and olive oil vinaigrette . . .

Oh, the sweet thought- and many things  I could do - with a rotisserie chicken . . .

Alas.

Can I please go home now?

Sigh. I should sign this "Angry Carrie Neal." I will show some restraint - for now at least and say . . .

Yours,
Love (really) Bites,
Carrie Neal

Get Toasted

This time of year is perfect for true comfort food. Sure, fresh berries and light, flavorful salads are lovely in summer, but in winter, who (if they're honest) doesn't often want something a little . . .heartier, warmer, or otherwise heart pleasing?

My latest version of comfort food, breakfast addition, cold-weather fortification is something a good friend taught me about: salted, buttered toast. So simple yet so very delicious. Mine looks like this:

A piece of this yumminess with yogurt and a banana - perfect breakfast!

If you want to try this at home, here's how I do it (she uses a toaster but I like to use a pan on the stove): Heat the correct size pan (I use my smallest one for one piece and a larger for two) on medium; add butter and swirl to melt. Sprinkle a little salt (I've been using lite Morton's but sea salt or a flavored specialty salt would also be good!) then lay the bread on top. Let it "brown" to golden, a few minutes, add a little salt to the side that's up, then flip over and repeat with the other side. A few minutes more, and voila! Only takes a few minutes on each side to get a nice "toasted" look so leave it longer if you want it more done. And don't worry if you have to flip a couple of times- this won't bother it like when you flip a grilled cheese too much!

My tummy is always happy with this treat, and I feel good about the whole breakfast when I add yogurt, a banana, or maybe scrambled eggs to round it out.

Sometimes, especially on a cold rainy Saturday like today, this comfort is just what I need.

Yours,
Love Bites,
Carrie Neal

From NFO to NYE

Anyone know what "NFO" means? I'll fill you in: No Food Order. That's hospital lingo for "don't give the patient anything, even water." And those were the instructions given initially during my last stay at Piedmont (Christmas Eve and most of Christmas Day - fun!). 

Y'all. Shut the front door!

So I won't repeat (again) about past eating issues, and will say that I have been trying to both eat, and eat well, in recent weeks and months, especially since I left the restaurant world (schedule was too unpredictable to make "regular" eating feasible very consistently, and it also lent itself to getting so hungry I'd grab what I could and then not be pleased with my choices) and even more so since my first hospital stay in early December (which had been one of the reasons I quit restaurant work). I don't always get three meals in a day, or sometimes two and a snack or. . . but it's better and more consistent. So when I went to visit a dear friend on Christmas Eve, who'd just had her new baby the previous day, little did I expect to end up hospitalized - with an NFO!

I had been in a hurry to get out of the house and so hadn't eaten breakfast. My plan was to visit with A just a little - didn't want to swarm the new mommy too much as she warned me it was a bit of a circus in her room - then go get an early lunch and do some final Christmas shopping. Thank heavens I was walking into the lobby at Piedmont when I lost all motor control and nearly crashed. Fast forward through the ER, a lot of tests, and getting into my own room (I'll spare you details of what happened and all that), I finally, hours after I'd arrived, sat in my hospital bed and saw that acronym on the white board in front of me: basically, this woman who hasn't eaten since Mon night and is going on 24 hours without food or even water is not to be given anything. At all.

Finally, I talked them into some version of a liquid diet - even a cup of chicken broth and some water were welcome around 11pm that night - and once, finally, a few things were cleared up, I got on no restrictions orders. 

I was grateful to be able to order from the "Christmas Menu" (who wanted broth again for breakfast? I was still waiting on real food around noon on Christmas Day) and I picked this:

Lunch a la Piedmont Hospital: not the best food ever but very welcome! Merry Christmas!

Was the steak the best I've ever had? No way. The green beans were actually pretty yummy and the bites of red velvet cake I had weren't bad either. Regardless, while not what I usually eat, it was very welcome.

When I got home from the hospital, I slowly returned to eating and as healthfully as possible. I did pretty well.

By the week leading up to New Year's, I was nearly back on my feet with minimal internal debate over food. By NYE and my second date with a new boy, I was up to the good stuff again, such as:

Salmon and latkes, with arugula and the usual sour cream and apple sauce accompaniments, at The General Muir (go, go if you have not been!). His suggestion of a spot (impressive for a boy who lives in Montgomery!) - delicious and an adventurous choice for me!

That meal made me feel even more on the road to recovery than getting good sleep and lots of water!

Food is such a big part of our lives - in 2014, I plan to never be or need to be set on any sort of NFO, and celebrate lots of good meals, good health, and time with good people.

Here's to love and food in the new year!

Yours,
Love Bites,
Carrie Neal

The Orange, Pink, and Black

Well, hell, y'all.

Orange maybe the new black but pink is my favorite color and black still factors into my life . . .

Damn, Sam. As they say.

Let me break it down for you: here's the quickest recap this verbose girl can manage . . .

I just read the amazing memoir by Piper Kerman - 

Wanna know the story behind the Netlfix original series, "Orange is the New Black"? Here you go - 

Read the true story of a little blonde girl who goes to prison and learn a lot . . .

Outstanding. Such a brave and honest story. More notes on this later...

Maybe that's what made me put on my orange scarf, a sweet gift from J last Christmas, when home with the flu last night and today, freezing, and feeling - honestly? - totally bummed about the holidays . . . 

Which brings me to the fact that I dislike most things "orange." Pumpkin - eh. Oranges, deuces. A scarf gift or two - and tonight I actually did my own highlights for the first time ever, but they didn't turn out - ah, ok . . . 

But pink, pink, you always have me. And today when nothing was ok - between being alone for the holiday weekend, or having the flu, or . . . anything - well, throwing up on the bathroom floor/toilet is a little better when you can reach to someone via cell and it has a pink cover. Pink makes it better when you are home from the doctor and can put on a pink tee with your comfies, as one of my high school girl friends always called pj's.

And black? Black is love, in this form - who wouldn't feel better (or even when the patient dare to disturb THIS posed on your feet?) - 

Luke keeping me warm and safe.

I can't stand Thanksgiving - it has been my least favorite holidays for years: I hate most of the typical foods, I have too many anorexic and food-phobic memories tied to it (and I just can't fucking eat mashed potatoes!!!!!!!). 

And I wasn't invited to our family Thanksgiving this year. And it was decided, then I was told. So some Waldens will be doing this - 

Enjoying the view at Wild Dunes...

And I won't. Christmas details, to follow- I have been told I'm not included in that either. Y'all get ready for the dramatic details, but they shall follow. Oh, they will.

Here's what I know today, and on what I am trying to focus: I have a beautiful orange scarf with special meaning to me, a pink phone case I love that a sweet friend bought when he helped me get my new phone, and a precious black doggus who loves his mommy even when not many others do . . . and I am trying to focus on the good. And be grateful.

Yours,
Love Bites,
Carrie Neal

Little Mama and Big Sky Moments

I haven't been to Montana in years, y'all. But I'm baaaack!

Let me explain: I have a new job.

I now work for a company that is eco-friendly, bison-loving, and founded by two well-known men well-reputed in the great Peach State and beyond. I'll let you deduce what I now call "The Restaurant" really is.

Yes, I made a job and career move, and I've switched quesadillios for burgers.  (Yes, I did say quesadillios - it's like how I said "staple-or" for our staplers that never worked quite right at the old haunt - I like nicknames and shorthand...).

I got spirited away, right across the driveway!

And it's to a place whose food I love - see . . .

The beef/bison slider duo . . . delicious and a deal!

And I am thinking I will really like the culture. The Restaurant is run by, as the original founders (still very involved, btw) proudly proclaim themselves to be, mavericks. Maybe it's the 80s baby, "Top Gun" loving inner me, but I have always loved that word. I am digging what I am quickly learning about this company, and about more than just the meat. I get to wear jeans to work - something this girl always loves to wear, even if they are a slightly darker and less cool version of those she normally would wear - 

Mossimo at Target - $22.99. Not bad!

It also doesn't hurt when you get a new *handle* on your first night: if the head chef looks at you and says . . . "Little Mama! I know you! You're that little blonde girl from next door!" and the rest of the kitchen staff, then quickly the serving staff (ok, all the boys but that's most of both staffs, so . . .), picks up the new moniker . . . well, let's just say that I've worked in enough restaurants to know that when the heart of the house is on your side, life is good.

Of course, getting the guys fresh lemonade and running food doesn't hurt either.

Here's to new adventures, little-size jeans and many big sky moments to come . . . 

Yours,
Love Bites,
Carrie Neal

Oatmeal Cookie and A Dog

Who'd think of this combination? Moi!

Sir Luke has recently begun coming to the Top Floor with me, and yesterday on my typical Wednesday night off, we had lots of quality time together. After a nice walk and his dinner, I made mine and we went upstairs for a little movie marathon - and I brought a treat.

When I put pumpkin bread crumblings (my Mom's homemade, no less) on top of his dog food the other morning I realized I was on to something....so I decided to continue experimenting with what people food is ok - even good - for dogs. Oatmeal makes the list, of course used sparingly if in cookie form, as you don't want to give your baby a bunch of sugar, etc. But this - 

A nice treat. So as we settled into our first movie, and I started eating my cookie, how could I not share??

Halfway into the movie, he moved from my side to this other relaxed position - 

Happiest boy in town!

We had a good night. I will chalk it up to cookie love, and Mommy-Luke love (but cookies never hurt!).

Not recommended for every day or all meals - for pets or people! - but sometimes a little sweetness makes it all better.

Yours,
Love Bites,
Carrie Neal

The Devil's . . . Restaurant?

"Character is destiny." - Heraclitus

How does this relate to love, or food?

Let me explain.

Some of you know I am an avid reader - by that I mean four to five books a week, if not more (seriously) - and right now I am reading The Devil's Casino by Vicky Ward.

Well, STFD, y'all. It's extremely well-written and very detailed - I have had to re-read pages to make sure I "got" all the specifics as Ms. Ward goes into so many . . . aspects of the Lehman Brothers (and their subsequent names) beginning, rise and fall. And food enters into it when there are descriptions of all the Lehman perks during their hayday. Executive meals - not to mention the salons and other services proffered - were the norm . . .

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/111801149X/ref=s9_psimh_gw_p14_d0_i1?pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&pf_rd_s=center-2&pf_rd_r=0G9A1Z6TE1S078DM62ND&pf_rd_t=101&pf_rd_p=1630083502&pf_rd_i=507846

Love entered into my reading of this book, and knowledge of Lehman, when my Daddy told me today: Chris Pettit was a classmate of his at West Point, and that's why I found the book in his office. That put a whole new spin on the bread and butter, steak and martinis - whatever - that were served in that executive dining room in the 80s and 90s.

There is no man in this world whose opinion I respect about a person more than my father's. You know the saying "I'd want him in a foxhole with me?" That's my Dad's type of judge of character.

Is this . . .

Worth all that happened in their demise? That took people out - both inside and outside? Methinks not.

I haven't finished the book yet - let's just say I'm through the apps and cocktail round, but not yet to the entree, or - the bittersweet (I am being generous here) dessert.

Great people do great things; sometimes they have awful and accidental falls or deaths, Chris Pettit being one of them.

Today, I am grateful for the ability to read - to contemplate lunch before work - to have people in my life, my Dad included for sure, who appreciate my weird proclivity for fascinating real-life stories.

Food is temporary in the body - character will out in the heart.

As always, food for thought . . . 

Yours,
Love Bites,
Carrie Neal