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27 february 2001 new review! And this one's a whole meal. A really, really good one.
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got vitamins? I was introduced to someone a few weeks ago. Introducer said, This is Kim. She's as healthy as you and I want to be. Wha? Alright, I'll admit it. My friends and family get a good giggle from my eating habits. In my reviews here at the site, you see the dark side of my diet. We're talking about a couple of donuts monthly, rare indulgence in fried foods, and I never did touch that Jerky Chew. Don't get the idea that I don't pig out sometimes. Sometimes, I'm plumb shameful. You'd think I was Popeye or something. I crave spinach. Often. So I eat it--often. I wish that I could say that I ate it respectably all the time. Oh, sure, sometimes, I'll make a lovely bed of sesame spinach next to my beans and rice, or use it instead of meat for my lasagna. But most of the time, it's a matter of grabbing the little frozen box, throwing it in the microwave, and then dumping it into a bowl with a touch of soy sauce. Snack is served! Ugggh, ug ug ug ug ug. And then there are the milk cravings. I've had those all week. Most of the time, I don't care for cow milk, instead drinking fortified soy milk. But recently, I can't seem to get enough of the stuff. Moo, moo, moo! This is one of those cravings I wish I didn't have, because...well, let's just say that milk doesn't agree with me. I have a mild milk allergy, as evidenced by immediate asthma difficulties immediately after drinking a glass. I grab an inhaler and swig away. A gal's gotta live, right? You're sitting there thinking, man, what a dork. Kim doesn't crave junk food? Yeah, I get the occasional yen for Doritos or Pringles. But it's occasional enough to keep me in check. You can blame my snacking preferences on Mom. When Mom was pregnant with me, she craved V8 juice. Drank it by the gallon she did, which probably explains how 5'6" Mom ended up with two 5'11" daughters. When we were growing up, she was as conscientious as they come. There was no whining at the grocery store for us, no "shut up, already!" snacks for me or Kelli. Our idea of a good time was kicking back before bedtime with a peanut butter sandwich and sunflower seeds. But then that stopped when she realized that Toddler Kimmy was quickly becoming Tank Kimmy, all high-protein snack tub before bed. As adolescents, she continued her subtle vigilance. We rarely ate hot dogs, I don't know if I ever saw a Twinkie in the house, and processed foods were a rarity in our kitchen. She wasn't overtly obsessed with having things this way. That's just how it was. She was an Indiana farm girl, and raised us accordingly. We ate food that you could pronounce, not that you could create in a laboratory. That's how kids grow. So it strikes me as funny nowadays when I go to visit Mom, because sometimes she forgets how fine-tuned her methods were. When Kelli and I grew up and moved away, we continued to eat very well. I went mostly-vegetarian, and Kelli grew better muscle tone than most of those chicks on ESPN Fitness Fiesta Bounce-a-Thon. Mom, because she didn't have to cook for her growing minions anymore, was now free to indulge herself a bit. I figure she's entitled, job well done, so grab those chips, Mom! She giggles at me sometimes when we go out to eat. Don't you ever crave a steak? A burger? Ugh, I don't see how you do it. She wonders if Kelli and I are eating enough, pinching our bellies to see if she might snag a few fat cells. Are you sure you're eating right? Here, I'll make dinner! There will be spinach, right? |
