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Posts Tagged ‘food’

Pescetarianism

I’m happier saying ‘yes’ to the occasional piece of fish or sushi than sitting around, staring at an empty plate, while others eat.  There’s no point in making someone who has cooked a fish dinner feel bad because I can’t eat it, when in all reality, it’s quite the healthy and delicious food.  This doesn’t mean I’m going to be shoving a fish steak onto my plate with every meal, and it most certainly doesn’t mean that I will be chowing down on fried cat fish with my family.  But if it means having a spoonful of fish because of a sushi tray or eating fish three times because I’m visiting my dad who has caught his own fish, then I am perfectly fine with that.  After all, I have absolutely no moral qualms with eating animals.  My qualms only lie in health, as usual.

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Day 1 of my Floridian adventures comprised of a relaxed day at the pool and later walking around the beach with my dad.  We cooked food, and I once again ate fish.  And, again, I’ll keep on eating it, even though it makes me feel sluggish and weighty.  Day 2 was filled with grocery shopping and a day at the beach to not just walk around but to swim and sit under our half tent.  Unfortunately, I’m slightly sunburned, hungry, and headache-y.  I’ll be pink for the next few days, and my freckles are getting darker by the minute, I swear.  But, that’s the price I paid and will continue to pay for being outside without sunscreen while being a redhead.  Luckily, there won’t be any blistering or skin damage at this point.  Just some irritation at myself when I look in the mirror (but hey, that’s not uncommon).  I jest.

Anyway, as I like to talk about food as much as possible, here are some of the great things I’ve been eating:

German style buttered bread with Swiss cheese.  It makes the best breakfast.

Sushi.  Yeah, I tried it and found that I’m a fan of the wasabi.

Fish with steamed vegetables, rice, and salad.  Speaking of salads, I’ve been making the best cucumber, avocado, tomato, onion salads.  Add some bleu cheese dressing, and it’s awesome (and that’s coming from the girl who usually doesn’t like to have dressing).  My dad also makes a great Greek salad from just cucumbers, tomatoes, and black olives mixed with this dressing that he makes from combining Greek dressing and Greek spices.  I could have said Greek more times in that sentence, but I didn’t feel like it.

Anyway, here are some photos from the beach as proof that I’m actually down here.  Meanwhile, it’s time to make some asparagus pesto and watch the rain fall down–even if I’m doing more watching than actual cooking.

Day 2 ended by me realising that I’m incredibly sunburned.  Day 3 began with me throwing up and rolling around in nightmares—probably because of the sunburn.  What a stupid, stupid idea to think that I could go out into the sun for four hours without any protection other than shade.  Stupid, stupid, stupid.  My shoulders, arms, chest, knees, and even feet are bright pink, and it hurts to even move.  Luckily, though, I bought some Sarna this afternoon (as recommended by my friend Jenn, who had supplied the stuff to my roommate for a sunburn this past spring) and kept mostly inside.  Then again, even staying outside wouldn’t have been too awful, as it’s been raining all day.

As always, I ate fairly well today.  We went to a fruit stand and bought some mango butter and orange-coconut marmalade and later went to Sweet Tomatoes—a fabulous salad and soup buffet.  I’d been once before in Saint Louis a few years back, and the second time was just as good.  I recommend the split pea soup and triple berry green tea while there.  Both are delicious.

The rest of day 3 was spent driving out to a bird sanctuary, only for it pour once we got there.  I still took some pictures and had a bird talk to me (see last post), but we spent an equal amount of time at a local fruit stand, buying the previously mentioned jam products and questioning what fruit was what.  The good of that came with me now knowing what a lychee is.  Yay.

Day 4 was rain.  Lots of rain.  And a very itchy sunburn on my shoulders and chest.  I spent a good deal of the day trying to relieve the pain and itch with Sarna, lotion, et cetera, none of which did the job as well as simply distracting myself—which came in the form of eating super hot peppers.  My dad was cooking up some ceviche when Olga and I heard a mighty WHELP come from the kitchen.  There stood my dad, flinging his hands and trying to get the pepper from his mouth.  Even a tiny sliver had turned his mouth on fire.  He gave me a piece the size of an ant (literally), and I didn’t think much of it.  So I ate a slice the size of two ants, in which my dad gave me an odd look.  Olga came and took a similar bite, which immediately found itself on the kitchen floor along with a slew of Russian in complaint.  So I ate an entire sliver.  Still nothing.  It was a little spicy, but about the same as any salsa.  I wondered what was broken with me since I felt practically nothing from the pepper but decided not to care because I had finally stopped itching.  I would try the same thing the next day by just taking a bite out of the pepper.  The pepper then immediately found itself not on the floor, but in the trash, along with the remnants that were in my mouth.  OH GOD!!  My mouth wasn’t just on fire.  It was the most painfully spicy thing I have ever felt in my life!  I immediately poured orange juice down my throat as it was closest.  Then tried to immediately stuff a banana along with it, then two cups of milk, then an ice cube, then tea, then anything else I could find to stop the burning.  And it still burned—for a half hour, actually.  My dad got home after fifteen minutes of my burning adventure and found me sucking on an ice cube on the couch, not even paying attention to Anthony Bourdain in the background.  He told me I should do it again and let me film him; it would be a hit on YouTube.  I declined the offer.

Much of day 4 was rain, though.  Heavy rain that ended our plans of seeing fireworks for Fourth of July.  We would have gone to the beach, two miles away, to see a wonderful display from the pier.  But, it rained, and we stayed at home, watching the telly and eating leftover asparagus pesto, mushrooms, and berries.

Day 5 was even more rain, but we didn’t know about it until we had reached the riverfront in Fort Lauderdale for fifteen minutes.  Then it poured.  Poured until you could barely see anything, and we were trapped under trees and awnings, shoes saturated, my pants and vest completely saturated, hair sticking to my face in wet tendrils.  Miserable weather, and I was still wet even after a full hour of lunch at a café (where I had marguerite pizza—so good).  As we were still wet, we braved the rain a little further with our umbrellas to see shops selling shirts for 300 dollars and ice cream for an equally ridiculous price.  Though, even with the price, it might have been worth it: think roasted coconut rolled in chocolate and then put into vanilla ice cream.  Absolutely freaking delicious.

Later in the afternoon and evening, my dad and I made some tea and chatted it up on the porch, watched Anthony Bourdain (as I only realised today that there has been a marathon because of the new season starting Monday), and ate ceviche.  I also tried stuffed tea leaves (interesting with a lot of vinegar and a very earthly flavour from all of the tea) and Mediterranean/Russian olives (so salty, that I had to run for some orange juice to wash my mouth out).

Any times in between have been spent lounging about with my computer: playing Sims or internetting or reading Great Expectations (surprisingly good) and my favourite fanfiction which I saved into a Word document (the only fanfiction I’ve ever enjoyed and a secret guilty pleasure).  I’ve been trying to update my wordpress for days, but I’ve only managed one little post from when I went to a bird sanctuary that we quickly left from because of the rain.  I certainly brought the rain with me; suppose I’ll have to go back up to Saint Charles to get rid of it.  And here I leave you.

Leave you with a picture of Anthony Bourdain–love of my life, right after Chris Thile.

“Missi is fucking awesome and has great taste in food.”

Really, Anthony?  Aw, love you, too.

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This morning started at 6.30 with getting all of my last minute preparations finished before setting out for Florida, and by 8.00, I was being dropped off in front of the airport with my bright red suitcase and leather carry-on bag.  And I’d like to say that I did all right, thank you very much.  Granted, I spent the first twenty five minutes waiting in the wrong line for Delta, and I was clueless as to where to pick up my ticket after finding a more correct line, but after an hour of lines and security, I was finally sitting in the correct terminal and waiting for my 10.05 flight to Atlanta.  The first leg of my journey was from Saint Louis to Atlanta and went quite well.  Window seat.  Hardly a cloud in the sky.  No turbulance.  Even with sitting right next the engine, I could still listen to my iPod at half level and be just fine (which, by the way, my Florida playlist is pretty kickin’: Vampire Weekend, Imogen Heap, Arcade Fire, Nickel Creek, and a plethora of just about everything.  No really, I even have some Backstreet Boys and Spice Girls on there.  Eat it!).  The Atlanta airport was the only thing I was worried about–mostly because my first flight had been delayed by an hour, which meant that I had missed my second flight to Fort Lauderdale.  On the bright side, the second leg of my journey had also been delayed, so I ended up at the correct terminal in plenty of time.  Definitely beats my similar experience two years ago.

And that was something that really struck me.  Exactly two years ago, to the day no less, I was in the Atlanta airport, running back and forth between terminals that didn’t even exist just to get to my aeroplane for Germany.  It had been a total mess, with my friend and I running between trains and construction to get to the right spot just in the knick of time.  So, it slightly amazed me that I should have almost the exact same experience today, only not.  It was the same connecting flight, the same terminals.  Everything the same except that I found where I was going quickly and easily.  Maybe it’s the lack of construction.  Maybe it’s the fact that now I’m an adult and could trek there on my own without having to be with a group.  I’ll never know, but if things are going to work this well, then I don’t care to figure it out.

The second leg of my trip was terribly bouncy, and I was stuck in an aisle seat next to a very bored five year-old.  Half way through, I pulled out a National Geographic and began to flip through the pages of wonderful photos, being sure to tilt the magazine so that Xavier (yes, I learned his name while on the flight) could see it.  Later, I nonchallantly flipped through photos on my laptop for him to see.  And I’m not sure if it completely was enthralling, but he did look over quite a bit.  So maybe I made his trip a little less monotonous.

Anyway, I finally reached Fort Lauderdale after a long day of travelling and delays and no food, and my dad was there waiting at the exit for me so that we could fetch my luggage.  We drove to his house in Pompano Beach, had salad with fish–

WAIT.  Fish?

Yes, I ate fish, and will eat fish over this holiday.  It’s hard to avoid, and I’m not picky enough or a bitch enough or even someone who cares enough to refuse.  So, yes, I had fish.

–sat around on the porch and chatted, et cetera.  He mentioned that I should blog about my trip as a start to my dream career of being on the Travel Chanel.  As ridiculous as it is, I thought I’d do that.  So, expect some blogs from me over these next two weeks.  Hopefully nothing daily; I wouldn’t want to read that, and I’m sure you wouldn’t want to, either.  And, who knows, maybe this will be the start to my fabulous life as a professional traveller.

Or maybe I’ll just share with you my adventures.  You know, same same, but different.

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To my friends and readers in the Saint Charles area, I’m thinking that we should go to the local farmers’ market over this summer.  It’s supposedly right by Lindenwood University, and I’d love to check it out.  Here is some information about it from the Missouri Farmers’ Market website.

St. Charles County

Town/City: St. Charles
Name: St. Charles Lions Club Farmers’ Market
Open Days: Saturdays, 7:00 a.m. – Noon
May 16 – October 31
Contact Person: Gerry Shatro
Mailing Address: 907 Lindenwood
St. Charles, MO 63301
Phone: 636-723-2412
Directions: Take Riverside Drive 1 block north of Frontier Park in downtown St. Charles, on the riverfront.

I’ve never heard anything about this market, but if it is really there, you can bet that I will be going each week this summer.  That way, I’ll actually be able to live while home from university.  Seeing as how more than half of my diet is only fresh fruits and vegetables while at school, going home is rough where everything is mixed with meat or the oranges have been in the fridge since I was last home (whaddup four month old oranges?).  My plans are to be able to buy tomatoes, fresh greens, and berries to help sustain me through the week.  Then I’ll supplement my diet with the usual fresh baked bread, humus, cheese, store-bought fruits (bananas, pears, oranges), home-made apple sauce, and lots of chickpeas and red kidney beans.

Ugh.  I overly enjoy healthy food.

So, if you are interested in coming with me this summer, let me know.  And if you have recommendations on other markets, things to try, recipes, et cetera, leave a comment.  I hope you guys can attend a local farmers’ market this summer.  It’s a sure way to get organic and local foods.

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After typing my 1200 plus word blog, I cleared my mind by eating lunch.  I wasn’t all that hungry, and maybe it’s because my mind was too busy, but I set out to eat something before the cafeteria shut down until dinner.

While there, I ate beef strogonof and an array of vegetables, and I have to admit that the beef was terrible.  Or, at least, it was in my opinion.  I really haven’t been eating much meat lately, and my friend is encouraging me to become vegetarian since I’m only eating about one or two pieces of meat per week anyway.  I’ve been putting thought into what he said lately, and I know that it really wouldn’t be that difficult to become a vegetarian.  Besides, I’ve stopped drinking milk for soy milk, I already refuse to wear leather, and I’m really not that big of a fan of meat anyway.

Plus, meat is really difficult for your body to digest, which can lead to intestinal problems (thank you Skinny Bitch for that information).  Not to mention there are a lot of antibiotics pumped into meats that mess with your immune system.  And while there’s the worry about pesticides in vegetables, you can buy organic at the local farmers market.  If you’re worried the label “organic” is false, buy from the Amish woman rather than the man wearing a ripped t-shirt.  It doesn’t work every time, but it makes me feel a little bit better about what I’m eating and who I’m funding.

Aside from that, the Amish woman was nicer and gave me five tomatoes for a dollar–not half bad.

Anyway, as I sat at an empty table, eating the beef as quickly as possible in order to get to the good parts of the meal (i.e. the noodles, peas, green beans, and onions), a girl asked if she could sit next to me.  Of course I said yes; I enjoy meeting new people since you never know what they’ll be like.  She was easy to talk to, and we ended up finding that we both loved Muse.  After a long conversation, I felt that I had made a new friend, which was fairly exciting.

And, the reason I bring this up is because I was surprised by it.  I’ve lived here for a month, and I’m still meeting new people.  With that, I’m still gaining new friends.  It just goes to prove that people you can appreciate can be around you all the time, but sometimes, you have to open your eyes to see them.  And, meeting someone new may seem trivial, but who’s to say that trivial encounter won’t yield a friendship or at least aquaintance?  Life is funny, and you never know how things are going to work out.  Just remember that, as much as life is a raft ride down a river, sometimes you have to take the initiative to get yourself into a new river if it looks better.  It may be as trivial as pushing your hand across a rock, but who’s to say that it won’t lead you to a greater ride?

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