Enjoy You: Coconut Curry Soup

I wrote a whole post about sattvic eating and meditation and spring (or winter) cleaning.  In fact, I've written about ten posts over the past week, but I deleted them all because none of them said what I really wanted to say.

So I began again.

The other day my daughter and I had lunch with a former colleague.  It was both good and difficult to see him; good because I always enjoy conversation with him, and he is so full of joi d'vivre when we meet, and difficult because he reminded me yet again of everything I'd left behind when I left my job, reminded me of the things that were said to me that I still have difficulty forgiving.  But N. is good for distraction, and since I'd carefully selected a Mexican restaurant that had black beans and rice on the menu (separate, of course; N. doesn't do miscegenated foods), she enthusiastically finished almost everything on her plate.

We parted ways, I to walk in the cold and wind for a bit longer before putting N. in the car for her nap, he back to work for the afternoon.

There is a bakery in this town that I used to visit occasionally for cookies.  They have fabulous, fabulous cookies.  And since N. had done such a bang-up job of eating lunch, I thought that we'd make that our short walk destination.

Inside the shop, it was cozy, and it smelled of sugar and ginger and nutmeg, as it always does.  We spent a few minutes gazing through the old-fashioned glass at the cookies on the counter, and N. finally decided on a star, with sprinkles.  I settled on a triple ginger (grated fresh, candied, and powdered), telling myself that at least ginger improves digestion.

The young woman behind the counter smiled approvingly at our selections, and made small talk with N. as she packaged the cookies in a small white bag.  Handing the bag over to N., who insisted on carrying it, she told us to enjoy them.

"Enjoy you," replied N.

The young woman grinned.  "Enjoy me," she said, turning the phrase over on her tongue.  "That's the nicest thing anyone has said to me in a long time.  Enjoy me."  She paused.  "I will.  Thank you."

N. waved, and I carried her and the bag of cookies back to the car, where she enthusiastically dumped them onto her lap as I tried to buckle her car seat.

She fell asleep on the way home with a half-eaten cookie in her hand, forgetting everything, but the phrase stuck with me: "Enjoy you."

Last week I went to my endocrinologist, where I was weighed for the first time in over two years.  Fifteen pounds heavier than I used to be.  I spent days listening to the negative, self-deprecating monologue in my head, which had already been swirling for other reasons.  But as my yoga teacher says, sometimes a little gentleness is what is needed.  Scrubbing something with an abrasive cleanser makes it look shiny, but actually weakens it in the long run.

Enjoy you.

Enjoying you means being gentle.  Taking care of yourself.  Feeding yourself nourishing foods and thoughts.  Getting enough rest so that you can appreciate the marvelous manifestation of being that you are.

So that's what I'm trying to do these days.  It's good advice.

What do you do to enjoy you?

Coconut Curry Soup
This simple, filling soup is full of good things.  Like ginger.  Which is good for digestion.  ;)  Adapted from Cooking Light, September 2009

2 T. oil (preferably coconut)
2 t. minced garlic
1/4 c. red curry paste
1 t. agave nectar or coconut palm sugar
2 (13.5 oz) cans light coconut milk
2 c. vegetable broth
1/4 c. fresh lime juice
3 T. thinly sliced peeled fresh ginger
1 T. soy sauce
1 t. thai fish sauce 
2 c. thinly sliced carrot or cauliflower
1 1/2 c. green bean, 1" pieces
14 oz. firm tofu, drained and cut into 1" cubes
2/3 c. fresh cilantro, chopped
1/4 c. thai basil, chopped 

In a large pot, heat the oil over medium heat (melt if using coconut oil, and be careful because coconut milk has a lower smoke point than other oils) . Add the garlic and sauté 30 seconds or until fragrant.

Add curry paste; sauté 1 minute, stirring constantly. Add agave nectar or coconut palm sugar; cook 1 minute, stirring well.

Add 1 can of the coconut milk, broth, juice, ginger, fish sauce, and soy sauce. Reduce heat to low; cover and simmer gently for 1 hour.   Be careful not to boil hard, because the coconut milk will separate (it will separate some anyway). Add the other can of coconut milk and bring to a simmer.  Add carrot; cook for 6 minutes. Add beans; cook 4 minutes or until vegetables are just tender. Add tofu and basil to pot, and cook 2 minutes. Garnish with cilantro.

House Calls: Lentil-Chard Soup

Is it weird that my endocrinologist calls me at 11 p.m. to tell me that he's going to increase the dose of my medication, even when it's not an emergency?  Or calls me at 9 a.m. on a Sunday to tell me that he thinks I should start taking iron (that was months ago)?  Or answers his own phone when I call his office sometimes?  Or is there alone when I arrive for my 8:30 a.m. appointment?

Or is it just that he subscribes to the old-fashioned image of the medical professional, who still makes house calls?

I'm glad he does, though, even if it is a little weird.  Poorly treated (or untreated) hypothyroidism in pregnancy can cause miscarriage, stillbirth, preenclampsia, congestive heart failure, and anemia.  It's one reason I switched doctors; I just couldn't ignore the fact that my losses may have been linked to a poorly treated (though identified) medical condition I already knew I had.  It's also a reason that I still can't be completely confident about a safe delivery, even if the Bean is doing backflips in there somtimes.  There are still days, especially if I don't feel anything in there for a while, that I can only close my eyes and hope.  Four months is a long way to go.

Time does pass, though, and it's starting to feel more like fall, here, which means soup season.  I was feeling a little bad about slighting chard in my last post (though of course, I may not feel so bad once I get the email telling me what's in this week's CSA share).  I'd just rather eat spinach, in most cases.  This soup is an exception, though; something about the slight bitterness of the chard really complements the sweet of the lightly caramelized onion and the broth.  I suspect that cooking it first helps, too.

And of course it's full of protein and all sorts of things that are good for you, no matter what shape you're in right now.  And since doctors don't often make house calls these days, you have to take good care of yourself.


Lentil-Chard Soup

1 c. brown lentils, rinsed
4 c. water
4 c. stock or low-sodium broth
Salt
3 T. olive oil, plus more for serving (optional)
1 large onion, finely chopped
Pinch of crushed red pepper
4 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1/2 c. coarsely chopped cilantro
1 bunch green Swiss chard (1 1/4 pounds), ribs removed and reserved for another use, leaves coarsely chopped
1/3 c. fresh lemon juice
Freshly ground pepper

In a medium saucepan, combine the lentils with the water, stock and 1 1/2 teaspoons of salt and bring to a boil. Cover partially and cook over moderately low heat until the lentils are barely tender, about 25 minutes.

Meanwhile, heat the 3 tablespoons of olive oil in a large skillet. Add the onion, crushed pepper and a pinch of salt and cook over moderately high heat, stirring occasionally, until the onion is lightly browned, 7 to 8 minutes. Add the garlic and cilantro and cook for 1 minute. Gradually add the chard leaves and cook, stirring occasionally, until wilted, about 3 minutes.

Add the chard to the lentils, cover partially, and simmer until thickened, about 15 minutes. Stir in the lemon juice and season with salt and pepper. Ladle the soup into bowls, season with pepper and olive oil and serve.

Two Pink Lines

Why I am telling the blogging world about this when I won't even tell my own mother for at least another month or more, I don't know.

But late last week I found out that my BFN ... wasn't.

I almost don't know what to feel right now.  I want to feel excited.  But instead, it's like I'm waiting for it to go wrong, like it's only a matter of time before it goes wrong again.  Am I doing this to protect myself?

The timing couldn't have been more ironic: I'd barely started to adjust to the new medication, I'd just made the decision to start yoga teacher training in September, the due date will be at the beginning of the three busiest months of my work calendar (which means a leave that will be more working from home than actual leave time).

And yet, parenting is about learning to give up control, isn't it?  Maybe I didn't learn that lesson well enough the first time around ...

You are all hereby sworn to secrecy.  But I'm glad to have some people sending positive energy.  We have a long way to go, and there are very few people who know me in "real life" that I can trust with this right now.

A Gift to be Simple: Black Bean Burgers and Ojai Chocolates

Mother Nature isn't sure whether it's spring or summer, but we spent practically the entire day outside today anyway.  I love days like this: no frills, just being in the world, and being together.  Despite a high of nearly 90 degrees, we went geocaching in the morning along the South Branch of the Raritan River and discovered just how huge Echo Hill Reservation really is; and in the afternoon, we went to a wonderfully sane at-home birthday party for one of Ian's two "best" friends at school, where activities included collecting ladybugs, making tissue paper butterflies, playing with Chinese yo-yos and turning balloons into rocketships, playing "pass the present," and whacking a hand made pinata.  No outrageous entertainment, no ridiculously over-the-top venue.  Home made cupcakes and fresh fruit salad.  The kids had a fabulous time.

I love people who have a healthy appreciation for simplicity.  Life is complicated enough.

And even better, my doctor called me today with test results.  Turns out my T3 is a little low, which could account for some of the symptoms.  And my iron %saturation was low, too.  So I'm adding iron (being careful to take with raw sources of Vitamin C ... thanks, JeCaThRe) and a T3 supplement to see if it makes a difference.

To celebrate, I made veggie burgers (see below).  Well, OK.  I was going to make veggie burgers anyway.  But I also had some amazing raw chocolate.  Ojai Choclat is a small operation in Calfornia run by a woman named Mimi who does magical things with raw cacao, raw cocoa butter, nuts, maca, and a host of fresh local (to her) ingredients.  She's not a "raw foodist," but has lots of "raw foodist" friends, was presidposed to diabetes, and started making raw chocolates after her years of experience growing up on a farm where her mother grew organic foods, and coming to farmer's markets.  I ordered some on a whim a few weeks ago, and was amazed.  No, they don't taste like Hershey's or Lindt.  But they do taste like berry truffle, or nut butter, or chili.  They're sweet without being cloying.  And best of all ... no dairy, no sugar.  I'm not sure how much I believe about the health benefits of things like maca and the claims people make about raw, but I do know that it's nice to actually taste the chocolate.  Pure and simple.

(OK, commercial done.  No, she didn't pay me or send me any free samples.  Yes, I know that you're still eating chocolate.  Yes, I just think they're that good.)


Black Bean Bell Pepper Veggie Burgers

15 oz. can low sodium black beans
2/3 c. Italian bread crumbs
1 medium red bell pepper, finely chopped
1/2 c. mushrooms, finely chopped
1/2 c. shredded cheddar or Jack cheese
2 t. vegetable oil
2 eggs

Heat oven to broil.  Heat vegetable oil in a small skillet over medium heat; add pepper and mushrooms and saute until lightly browned.  Set aside and cool.  In a small bowl, beat the egg lightly with a fork.  Drain and rinse black beans.  Place beans in a large bowl and mash well with a fork.  Add bread crumbs, egg, pepper, mushrooms, and cheese.  Stir until evenly combined.  Form into 8 small patties and place on a baking sheet.  Place sheet 4-6 inches from the flame, and broil 5 minutes.  Flip and broil another 5 minutes.  Watch closely to prevent burning.  Serve in pita pockets.

On Iron: Gingered Chickpeas and Kale

Well, this has been a pretty unproductive ICLW for me.  I apologize to everyone who was stuck commenting on my single frittata post ... I've been absolutely swamped at work and at home, and I've been lucky to get the laundry done and lunches packed, never mind writing, photographing, and commenting.  I'm still hoping to get to "Project IF" later this week.  (The ICLW folk will appreciate the irony of a post about iron, below.)

But I finally had my long-awaited appointment with a new (regular) endocrinologist on Monday, and while there's no news yet, per se, at least I feel like he listened to me, which is more than I can say for the last two I've seen.  He took a thorough history, and talked with me like I was a person, not a file.  And he drew blood right there in his office, without sending me to three other places first, promising that he'd call me soon; in fact, he asked how late he could call, and whether it was OK to call past 9.  I left feeling hopeful, at least.

He said that while it was unlikely that my thyroid was the problem, given my previous test results, he would still check to see if I was one of those rare people who need T3 in addition to T4, and that if that wasn't it, that there were a few other things to consider.  Among them, he mentioned anemia, which I didn't think could be linked to IF, but which he thought might be contributing to the symptoms I've been experiencing.  I found myself defending what I realized is now a nearly-vegetarian diet: while I still do eat meat, I've been eating a lot less of it, and hardly any red meat at all.  "But I eat lots of vegetables containing high amounts of iron," I protested.  "You'd have to eat a truckload," he responded.

Now, with all due respect, I know plenty of vegans and vegetarians who seem to get all the iron they need from greens, lentils, and other legumes; no need for a burger.  I've been eating great big bowls of spinach salad for lunch recently, and I know I've mentioned my love affair with kale previously here.  Kale is, simply put, a superfood, packed with nutrients and compounds like beta-carotene, vitamin C, iron, manganese, calcium and potassium.  (On the down side, it so happens that kale contain goitrogen, a naturally-occurring substance which can interfere with the functioning of the thyroid gland, but let's leave that aside for a moment, since it's not like I'm subsisting solely on the stuff.)  It so happens that I cooked some this week, in a dish that even my three year old son gobbles down with gusto.  The original is here (I love Dana's blog for its fresh vegetarian ideas and beautiful photography), but I don't bother with the cilantro or basmati rice or yogurt sauce; we just use a dollop of plain Greek yogurt if we're feeling like we need contrast.  I do like to serve it with roasted cauliflower, but then again, I eat that all the time, too.

Here's hoping the plant-eaters I know aren't wrong.

The chickpeas:
1 large shallot, peeled and diced
2 large garlic cloves, minced
1 inch piece of fresh ginger, peeled and minced
Vegetable oil
Kosher salt
1 tsp. ground cumin
1 tsp. ground coriander
1/2 tsp. tumeric
2 14-ounce cans chickpeas, rinsed and drained
1 14-ounce can fire roasted crushed tomatoes
2 tbsp. tomato paste
1 small bunch kale, tough stems removed and cut into bite size pieces


Heat a medium pot over medium heat.  Add just enough oil to cover the bottom of the pot and add the shallot, garlic, and ginger.  Season generously with salt.  Stir until softened but not brown, about 2-3 minutes.  Sprinkle on the spices and stir until fragrant, about 1 minute.

Add the chickpeas and toss to coat with the spices, then add the crushed tomatoes and tomato paste.  Mix together well and bring to a simmer.  Add the kale and give it a good stir.  If the pot seems to dry at this point, add a little water – about a tablespoon at a time – to keep things moist.  You don’t want it soupy but you want enough liquid to cook the kale.  Adjust the heat to keep it at a simmer and cover the pot.  Continue to cook, stirring occasionally, until kale is very soft, adding water as necessary.

Abhyasa, Vairagya, Svadhyaha, Frittata.

(Welcome ICLW bloggers!)

My yoga teacher said on Monday that yoga practice is about three things: effort, letting go, and observation about how that balance is working, how we feel in the midst of that cycle (without trying to change the feeling--just noticing it, and accepting it).  If only I could learn how to do the second and third of those things as well as I do the first.

I have thrown myself into cooking again to drown out the cacophony of pregnancy announcements this week, three on a single day.  One from a neighbor down the block with a little boy Ian's age, who is now expecting her fourth child.  Another from a colleague who runs a mom's group at work, who has thoughtfully spaced her second child two years from her first, because isn't that what everyone does?  Another from one of the support staff members at work, whose daughter I worked with, and who is expecting her first.

I am happy for these women.  They are good people, and they deserve joy.  But every time I hear another announcement, I feel incomplete, flawed, empty all over again.  Hard as I try, I can't seem to quiet those voices in my head.  How long will it take for them to go away?

Next week, I have an appointment with a new endocrinologist.  Not an RE, not yet.  I'm anxious about it.  What if he says I'm fine, despite the constellation of symptoms that suggest I'm still not being treated for thyroid issues?  I fear trying again without a new treatment for an old diagnosis, both because I fear loss, and because I fear the disappointment of a non-event.  But I also fear the journey into reproductive endocrinology.  Can I just be happy with the beautiful little boy I have?  Is this the universe's way of telling me that I should spend more time paying attention to him before I am gifted with another child? 

Today is Earth Day, and I am celebrating by practicing letting go (not to be confused with "if you'd just relax, maybe it would happen, which the ICLW folks know works really well, right?!): balancing my effort with surrender to the new life that is everywhere around me.  Young asparagus, fragrant flowering trees, chives in the window box on our deck.  I made this frittata as a nod to spring and to this renewal.  It's another one of those recipes that is very flexible; you can substitute just about anything seasonal (preferably local), and change the cheese and seasoning to your taste.

Abhyasa.  Effort.
Vairagya.  Letting go.
Svadhyaya.  Self study and observation.

May we all seek a little better balance.

Leek and Asparagus Frittata

2 tablespoons olive oil
1 cup chopped leeks (white and pale green parts only)
1 12-ounce bunch thin asparagus, trimmed, cut on diagonal into 1-inch pieces (about 2 1/2 cups)
1 cup sliced mushrooms (shiitake, baby bella, or regular)
6 large eggs
2 egg whites
3/4 cup diced Fontina or jack cheese, divided
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese

Preheat broiler. Heat olive oil in heavy broilerproof 10-inch-diameter nonstick skillet over medium heat. Add leeks and sauté 4 minutes. Add asparagus and shiitake mushrooms, sprinkle lightly with salt, and sauté until tender, about 6 minutes. Whisk eggs, 2/3 cup Fontina cheese, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and 1/2 teaspoon pepper in medium bowl. Add egg mixture to skillet; fold gently to combine. Cook until almost set. Sprinkle remaining remaining Fontina cheese and Parmesan cheese over. Broil until frittata is puffed and cheese begins to turn golden, about 3 minutes. Cut into wedges and serve.