How to be happy

Yesterday I picked my daughter up from school and I could tell straight away that she was not happy.

She moaned and snapped and generally abused me all the way home.

I tried asking her about what had happened at school.

I tried feeding her.

I tried shouting and forbidding TV.

I said: “Go to your room and read a book”

She said “In your dreams”

She’s nine.

I don’t know how it happened but somehow we both got to be standing next to each other in the kitchen, peeling the giant pumpkin she grew over the summer.

We cut and sliced with sharp knives. We passed each other boards, graters and peelers. We talked quietly.
We worked hard.  In the midst of growing piles of peel, pulp and neat pumpkin slices, we were smiling at each other.  Suddenly, I realized we were happy.

Funny that.  You think that you’ll be happy when you lose the weight, get the guy, make the money, change the job, go on holiday, go back home, win the Nobel Peace Prize, but instead you get happy when you are peeling pumpkins, washing dishes or sharpening pencils.

It’s hard to remember in the midst of a sliding funk, that the thing to do is not to analyse yourself, distract yourself, practise your chosen compulsion or compare yourself to others.

When you want to lie down, you have to get up. When you want to crawl under your duvet, you have to get back to work.  When you want to put your feet up, you have to put your trainers on.

And in a way, it doesn’t matter where you go or what you do.

Kohellet, one of my favourite books, says this: “Only this I have found is a real good: that one should eat and drink and get pleasure with all the gains that you make under the sun, during the numbered days of your life... Whatever it is in your power to do, do with all your might”

Yesterday it was in my power to peel a pumpkin and turn it into pumpkin fritters which are unbelievably delicious sprinkled with sugar and cinnamon.

Pumpkin fritters

Two cups of fresh, grated pumpkin

Half a cup of flour

One teaspoon baking powder

Half a teaspoon of salt

One teaspoon of sugar

One teaspoon of cinnamon

One egg beaten

Four tablespoons milk

Mix it all together. Fry spoonfuls slowly in vegetable oil (about half a finger-width in depth).  Turn them and pat them a bit flatter as you do.

When golden brown on both sides, drain on kitchen towel.

Serve with cinnamon and sugar mixed in an egg cup.

Enjoy.

The most useful thing I know - part 2

A while ago I wrote about the power of the out-breath. ( March 9 2010)

I wrote that it helped me go further when I ran.

I wrote that I didn't understand why it worked, but that it did.

I recently discovered a whole new dimension to its freaky power.

You can also use the out-breath to improve focus and self-control.

 I'm almost embarrassed to tell you this, but I have started meditating daily.

 For 15 minutes a day anywhere - on the train, on a sofa, in the park, I stop and separate myself from my thoughts, my feelings, my sensations, my worries, my plans and my dreams. 

For a little while, I see me underneath all the stuff.

 For some-one with as noisy a head as mine, it's a huge relief.

Most mysterious of all, it's also a huge pleasure.

This is how I do it:

I use a guide to Mindfulness that I downloaded from Amazon onto my iPod. Written by Dr Zylowska and Goldstein,  it shows me how to use my breath as the anchor for my attention and how to make the other stuff  take a number.

To balance out this slightly esoteric suggestion for better living, I offer you my killer mash potato recipe.

Peel potatoes, cut into threes, and place in pot with lid and about an inch and a half of water, boil till soft, purée with enough salt, crème fraiche and butter.  Serve with fried fish and a good salad.

The difference between Oprah Winfrey and me

Oprah Winfrey is the richest woman in America.  She is strong, powerful, driven, capable, intelligent and resourceful.  She’s truly helped thousands of people around the world.

I am a pleasure-seeker with no willpower what so ever. I can’t organise. I can’t prioritize. I am seriously useless with numbers, details and focus.  I can’t really figure out how to help anyone.

I will never be rich and famous.

Yet I can do something Oprah cannot.  I can stay in-shape.

This is why (I think):

I’m not as rich as Oprah so mostly I don’t let other people cook for me.  Most days, I don’t let chefs in restaurants cook for me, or men in deli’s prepare my sandwiches, or the food scientists in factories make my dinner.  I seldom get take-out.  It’s too expensive.

I am not nearly as clever as Oprah. I have a type of dyslexia that makes me number-blind. So I can’t weigh things or count points or calories. I need things very, very simple.

So I do portion control for idiots - for breakfast I have one of those tiny sachets of whole grain porridge oats. For lunch, I grab a little tin of tuna and a slice of bread and usually borrow someone’s mayo at work.

I don’t have Oprah’s willpower. I don’t even try.  So I make life easy for myself by not having dried mango or Ben and Jerry’s Fish Food or homemade fudge in the house.  (If it finds its way into my house, I do not rest until it is all eaten up.)

Because I am not building schools for girls in South Africa or TV networks in the US, I have more time on my hands. So I can go to the gym often or run or dance or cycle more or less, whenever I want (and not just at five in the morning because waking up that early doesn’t feel pleasant to me)

Sadly, I don’t have Oprah’s social life.  I am not invited to parties catered by celebrity chefs and I am not tempted by mojitos, red wine, sushi and tiny cakes.   I would go and go crazy day and night.

Lastly, I know when it comes to my weight, there is nothing I can delegate, nothing I can buy in and nothing I am entitled too.

My ambitions are small. I am content to tend my family, spend time with my friends and work a bit.

I know how lucky I am to have a roof that doesn’t leak, running water, flushing toilets, and all the vaccinations and medications available in the 21^st century.  I am grateful to live in the Digital Age and in a country not at war. I am grateful that the sky is blue today and for my time on our planet right now.  

I realize not everyone gets to be Oprah Winfrey. But no-one else gets to be me either.  

I made this for supper last night:

I baked cod fillets, with lots of butter, lemon juice and salt. I wrapped it in tinfoil smeared with butter and put it in the oven at 200 degrees for half an hour.

I chopped up and fried a carrot, an eggplant, three celery sticks and one zucchini in sunflower oil. Then I threw in loads of chopped parsley, sunflower seeds, Aromat and soy sauce.

I also served noodles. It was delicious.  It was enough.

The secret to being the shape you want to be

Some of the cleverest, strongest, most capable women I meet are not at ease with their bodies.

It makes me sad because it’s not rocket-science that allows people to be in-shape.  

There’s no magic out there.  There's no special metabolism.  Any one can be the shape they need to be.

It clicked for me when I realized this:

Only I decide what I put in my mouth.  No-one else has a say in the matter.  

I don’t listen to smug, over-weight, over-accessorized instructors from Weight-Watchers, or to any diet ever invented, or expensive private dieticians armed with scales, or beautifully designed weekly eating-plans, or Dr. Phil, or Jenny Craig, or the makers of Special K, or a hypnotist, or any of the hundreds of books written on the subject.

 Only I decide what’s going in. (and believe me, I put lots of yum yum delicious things in my mouth on many different occasions)

On the other hand, I know that because I need to be in-shape, I can’t feast every meal.

That’s the bottom–line.  

I hope you throw your scales away, that you never consult another expert or put your hopes in another diet.  I hope you trust yourself to act in your own best interests. I hope it clicks for you. I hope that you eat well and live well.  I hope you realize we are the lucky ones.

Artichokes and Hollandaise Sauce

Cut the top off the artichokes so that they will fit in the pot. Wash under tap. Put artichokes in pot of boiling water for 40 minutes.

Hollandaise

3 egg yolks

1 table spoon fresh lemon juice

Pinch salt

1 cup melted unsalted butter

Whisk egg yolks and lemon juice and salt till thick and creamy then place on very, very low heat until tracks form on the bottom of the pan.  Remove from heat and slowly oh so slowly whisk in the melted butter.

Sit around the table with loved ones and enjoy.

Willpower is bullshit

I was bothered about something my running partner said to me recently about her lack of willpower when faced with cakes. She blamed herself unkindly and unfairly, I thought.

Trying to stop over-eating with willpower is like trying to get a French waiter to understand you by speaking English louder.

It's never going to work because that's not where change comes from.

Being the shape you need to be is not about willpower.  It’s not about deprivation. It’s not about pain. It’s not about dieting.

It's about being kind to yourself and still and mindful and waiting for the seasons to change and knowing that when the time is right, you can make the changes you need to make.

I saw a lovely quote recently in Elisha Goldstein’s blog on Mindfulness

He quotes Victor Frankl who says:

“Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom”

Right now, my response is to make Ottolenghi’s aubergine cheesecake which is unbelievably delicious.

This is how you do it:

Ingredients:

2 small aubergines, sliced in 2cm discs

150 gm feta

150 g cream cheese

60 ml double cream

3 eggs

150 gm baby plum tomatoes cut in half

2 tablespoons oregano leaves, torn

Lots of olive oil

Method:

Grill aubergine slices with lots of olive oil on greaseproof paper in 190 C oven for 40 minutes.

Whizz together feta, cream cheese, eggs and cream.

Put aubergines, tomatoes, the creamy mix and the oregano in an oiled baking dish. Add salt and pepper.

Bake at 150 degrees for 30 to 40 minutes.

What we talk about when we run

I’ve had the same running partner for years now. We run together twice a week, up hills, through woods, on roads, on rainy days and sunny days.

 It's like running therapy really.

So this is the one conversation we’ve been having for two hours a week, for years and years and years:

She tells me about her diets.

And I tell her that diets don’t work
That she shouldn’t eat in the car
That she should cook good food properly and take pleasure in eating it with family and friends
That she should eat sitting down with a plate
That she shouldn’t miss meals
That she shouldn’t say mean things about her body


Yesterday, we ran past a pretty young woman who was walking her dog.  The dog was small and fluffy and the woman was very, very plump.
While panting up the hill, I asked my running partner how she thought the woman with the dog got to be so round.

 She told me she believes it’s because the woman eats the skin on her chicken, that she cooks with oil and that she doesn’t diet.

Now while I know for sure that dieting makes you fat, that cooking and eating normally is the only way to love your body, what I realize I don’t have the foggiest idea about is how to change a person’s mind.

On tomorrow’s run, it's my turn on the couch.
I’ll tell you how it works out.

Meantime, here’s the gazpacho I've been making

Blitz together some nice ripe tomatoes
One red pepper
Half a cucumber
And half a teaspoon of crushed garlic
Put it is a tall jug
And add three cups of tomato juice
¼ cup olive oil
¼ cup red wine vinegar
1 teaspoon paprika
Chill

Getting Lost

The other day my husband went on a very long cycle-ride during which his chain snapped. I went to fetch him and got very lost. I got so lost in fact, that I had to pull over to the side of the road and cry.

At times like that I always forget that this is a moment that will pass. I think the sky is falling on my head and I will be lost forever.  I forget that I am in a tunnel and that the tunnel has an end and that the light will shine.

I always forget that Summer comes back, that I will once again run by the brook, that the tide will wash up shells on the beach, that I will laugh with my sisters, that I will make new friends and that I will dance and sing with my children. I forget that I will once again hear Mozart and be amazed by a poem and eat an artichoke and be loved.

I know that I am going to get lost again some time soon but next time will be different, I swear. 

I am going to be still, breathe out and remember that this will pass.

 I will find my way again.

Beef and Broccoli stir fry

Ingredients

3 cups chopped broccoli – bite sized

1 onion chopped

1 tablespoon sunflower oil

4 garlic cloves –crushed

I teaspoon garlic

Bola steak- sliced bite size

1 teaspoon beef stock powder

½ cup water

3 tablespoons soy sauce

Method

Fry onion and broccoli in oil for 4 minutes. Add garlic, ginger and steak. Fry for 5 minutes.

Mix the beef stock powder, water and soy sauce in a bowl, then add to the meat and broccoli. Stir.

Serve with rice or angel-hair pasta to which you’ve added 3 tablespoons soy sauce, 2 tablespoons roasted sesame oil and 2 tablespoons of sugar.