Me at Hut's Hamburgers enjoying excellent 'rings
My love of food I come by honestly; my Mom is an excellent cook and she’s the one who had me helping out in the kitchen while I was growing up. She also learned early on the best way to get me to do something was by bribing me with food; the only way I’d tolerate water in my eyes while she washed my hair in the sink was with a promise of a cookie reward. She never forced me to eat my veggies, although more often than not those sprigs of broccoli were smothered with cheese sauce. I wasn’t shamed into finishing my plate with threats of starving children in Africa; Mom did such marvelous things in the kitchen that I ate everything she cooked, including the liver and onions that was a staple for us. (Psst – I did pair that liver with ketchup, but it still was pretty tasty!) The starving kids thing was Grandma’s trick and it worked because she was my favorite Grandma so I had to clean my plate or risk never being invited back to spend another day at their really nifty lakeside house. Sorry Gram, but you just weren’t as good a cook as Mom, even if she did learn a few things from you. ;)
Despite this bribery and cheese-makes-everything-taste-better upbringing, I was fortunate to avoid the chubby kid stage. Growing up in Minnesota, I was an active kid, so all the calories I consumed were burned up playing hockey or football or volleyball or sledding down the hill in the snow. Even living at home while attending university I stayed slim, but then, it’s no surprise that homemade meals have always been better for you, and by this time I actually liked eating the salads I’d been making over the years. It wasn’t until I graduated and moved into my first apartment and took my first real job in an office that things began to change. I was working long hours, and at one point working two jobs, so it was just so much easier to swing by the fast food joint on the corner instead of working up the energy to cook food for myself at home. I also discovered that my favorite foods made me feel better when I was sad and that celebrating with food is nothing but tasty, and an Emotional Eater was created. That chubby stage I’d missed as a kid was now upon me, and I knew I’d better do something about it if I didn’t want bigger problems down the road. So, it was time to take steps.
Me toasting with Guinness at the Dublin Hard Rock Cafe
Fortunately, it wasn’t long before I found a program that works for me and I shed over 70 pounds on that last trip down Diet Lane in May 2007. I even managed to keep the weight off for two years, and that includes the twelve day trip my Mom and I took to lovely Ireland in March 2010, where we had full Irish breakfasts, multiple course meals, and the best fish-and-chips in the world more than once (especially in that great little hole-in-the-wall place in Kilkenney – YUM). Unfortunately, one thing after another took a turn for the worse in the months after returning to Texas–including losing my beloved cat of 15 years, Tinker Belle, to the nastiness that is feline hyperthyroidism–and watching what I was eating so wasn’t a priority for me. It’s no surprise that a few of those pesky little pounds I’d lost suddenly found their way back to me and my waistline, and it’s “Hello, Program!” time once more. It’s slower going this time around; I’m not as strict or vigilant about the program because let’s be honest, I have always loved to eat and when things aren’t going well, sometimes only a plate of Chica Chica Boom-Boom enchiladas with rice and beans will do. But I’m not giving up on saying “A bientôt!” to those pounds, so stay tuned.
That’s the nice thing about the start of a new year, just about anything can happen. You never know what might inspire that change–in my case, it was that pretty food processor Santa left under the tree–or what that change might lead to, such as a new attitude toward food. So, with a new outlook, a new food plan, and a new cooking-at-home-and-blog-about-it experiment, let the cooking begin!
