Tuesday, 31 December 2013

2013 - we hardly knew ye

Greetings, blog friends, from the Big Apple!  I write to you from a hotel room which contains little other than a very large television and a quite remarkably massive bed.  These Americans have got their priorities right.

Museum of Modern Art, NYC.  Plus, a hot dog vendor.
I had planned to do a carefully considered post about memories of 2013, top meals, top sandwiches, etc. but that's gone somewhat out of the window as I type this hurriedly before setting off to go and see the new World Trade Centre.  But I guess that you can tell from the location that the year is ending on a very different note to that on which it started and for that I am very thankful.

It turns out that my top meal of the year was taken in its very last few days.  Sorry, did I say top meal of the year?  I probably meant top meal of pretty much ever.  I'll tell you all about that when I get back.

I didn't post many recipes this year - possibly because I spent a lot of eating sandwiches.  I hope to do lots more next year and already have plenty of ideas for dishes that I want to, if not recreate, at least homage at home.  But I still have plenty of poundage to drop, despite finally getting my WW on in the last three months of the year, so I'll still be trying to make sure that things are relatively conducive to a calorie (or point) controlled eating plan.

So all the best to all of you for the New Year and can't wait to tell you about all of my adventures when I'm back in Blighty in 2014.

Sx

Thursday, 26 December 2013

A fairytale of...

Me: Happy Christmas random friendly type!  Did you have a good day?

RFT: Lovely thanks.

Me: Bodyweight in turkey, cheese and chocolate consumed?

RFT: Of course!  Got to be done at Christmas!  And you?

Me: Well, I certainly wasn't pro-pointing, that's for sure.  Although I did try to exercise a touch of restraint, especially in the face of some delicious Parmesan and thyme biscuits.  I only ate three!  Actually, that looks quite piggy written down. And only one portion of my beloved sausage meat stuffing (this year the mater went for a Tom Kerridge recipe with chestnuts and cranberries which was very tasty indeed).

RFT:  And did the family come up trumps vis a vis presents?

Me (nonchalantly): Not bad, not bad.  Chocolate enough to see me through until Easter.  Perfume.  A bit of sparkle, a soupcon of Jo Malone...oh, and a trip to New York.

RFT:  ??!?!?!?!?!????

Me:  Yep, flying out on Friday for a week in the Big Apple.  And, to celebrate my birthday on Saturday, we'll be having lunch in one of the best restaurants in not just the city but the entire world.

RFT:  Wow.  So WW is going to be taking a back seat until the new year.

Me:  I think it's fair to say that. 

Monday, 23 December 2013

What a difference a year makes

Although the blog entries for this time last year sound quite cheery, I wasn’t really a very happy camper. A bit like a Primark Christmas jumper, the appearance from a distance was festive but, up close, I was a bit sad and bobbly. And for all that I talked about “getting it together” in the New Year, and looking after myself properly, it didn’t really happen.

Being separated was one of the most painful, difficult things I have ever been through. I suppose it is a measure of my very privileged life that I can say that, but there it is. I love my husband very much and felt very bereft and lonely without him. More than that though, I felt like I had failed at being a wife, and, by extension, a woman. Yes, no doubt it looks and sounds melodramatic but, again, there it is.

I hope to do one final post on the CBT sessions I had earlier this year at some point as they came along at just the right time and helped me in a very meaningful way, which was unexpected. Such that, if (God forbid), such a thing were ever to happen again, I feel like I would be far better equipped to deal with it. I feel better equipped to deal with life in general. That has been 2013’s great gift to me – that, and the fact that I have been given a second chance to make my marriage work for which I am deeply and profoundly grateful.

The last couple of months have seen everything begin to come together with regards weight loss (and let’s not forget that is supposed to be the raison d’ĂȘtre of this particular blog) which is wonderful and I hope that success continues into the New Year. But I suspect it is an effect, rather than a cause, of my general sense of contentment and well being.

I certainly don’t think I have all the answers yet – I don’t suppose I ever will – and I think I have further work to do next year, especially with regards balancing all the disparate aspects of my life (journeys of self discovery are all very well, but if they lead to you losing a bit of focus at work then you end up spending the last couple of weeks before the Christmas holidays working very hard to ensure that you are on top of everything, and that eats in to mulled wine time). But, hey, that’s all part of the journey I suppose.

And speaking of journeys, thank you to all of you who have walked alongside me (in a virtual sense) this year for your company. It, you are always appreciated. In case I don’t get the chance to post again before the big day, can I just wish everyone who reads this blog a very, very, very merry Christmas and hope that 2014 brings you peace, joy and plenty of cake.

Thursday, 19 December 2013

Recipe corner: Corned beef hash

 

Goodness.  We used some of our home made corned beef for a hash this evening and it was ever so, ever so good.  It was the kind of good that makes me very sad for the people who will never get to eat it.  So my Christmas present to you, dearest reader, is the recipe.

The thing is, I say my recipe, it is very much akin to St Delia's recipe.  One of the big differences is that the meat in ours was the home made sort rather than the tinned sort which makes a distinct textural difference - and you'll notice from the method below that it allows, nay encourages, you to have two different textures of beef through the hash which is delicious.  We also went for poached eggs over Ms Smith's suggested fried which I think vastly preferable - the yolk runs into the hash and adds fabulous rich gooeyness.

D thinks that this portion is on the small side.  I agree, that one probably could eat more.  For the Weight Watcher who does not wish to scale up, I would say the addition of some green veg (steamed spinach, knob of butter?) would add volume with few additional points.  Sizewise though, it would be excellent for a multi course dinner party main, we think, with an elegantly positioned dollop of home made brown sauce and some finely chopped pickles. It is excellent, full stop.

Ingredients

150g corned beef - shred 50g and cut the rest into cubes
Tbsp Dijon mustard
2 tbsp Worcester sauce
Tsp dried thyme
Pinch dried chilli flakes
Salt, pepper

250g potatoes, cubed

25ml sunflower oil
Large onion, thinly sliced

2 medium eggs
Tbsp white wine vinegar

Serves 2, 13 pro points per portion

Combine the meat with the mustard, Worcester, herbs and spices.  You can do this in advance and leave it to sit for a while.  You may think that it appears too saucy at this stage, but don't worry.

Put the potatoes in a large pan and cover with water.  Salt well.  Bring to the boil and bubble away for three minutes.  Drain.  Combine with the saucy (oooo-er) beef.  Season - minimal salt, lots and lots of black pepper.

Heat the oil in a large pan - you want a decent surface area so don't skimp.  When the oil is hot, add the onion and cook until golden and beginning to brown. Add the meat and potato mixture and spread out as far as possible.  Leave to cook for a while - you want to get a decent crust.

While this is cooking, bring a pan of water to a brisk boil.  Do NOT add salt but DO add a capful of white wine vinegar.  Break the eggs into ramekins. 

Once your meat and potato is looking crusty and delicious, tip the eggs into the water and set a time for one and a half minutes.  While they cook, spoon out the hash (we used chef's rings because we are....middle class).  Top the hash with the eggs and season to taste before serving.

Wednesday, 18 December 2013

‘Twas the weigh in before Christmas

Weeks 1-11: -27 lbs
This week: -2lbs
Total loss: 29lbs


Two stone achieved plus a pound for luck – and the half case of fizz is mine! Mwah hah hah.

No more official WW weigh ins now until January 8th. If I am feeling particularly masochistic I will keep an eye on how the home scales are going. Although I did hop on them the other day to be greeted with the message “Lo”, which, while satisfyingly Biblical, is not particularly useful.

Actually, one of my aims for the next two weeks is to enjoy Christmas without going over the top but also without pangs of guilt. Back in days of yore when I succeeded in becoming something of a skinny Minnie it was only through exerting the sort of sheer bloody mindedness that turns some people into Olympic athletes. If only I could use my powers for good, eh? Seriously, you do need to be committed and focused to lose weight, but when committed and focused becomes obsessed and rigid then you have gone too far.

So if you’ll excuse me, I’m just off to investigate the tin of Roses that is lurking in the office kitchen. I may be some time…

Monday, 16 December 2013

How to make corned beef (and you really, really should)

Best corned beef sandwich EVER...
Corned beef and pickle sandwiches were an absolute staple in my household when I was growing up.  OK you risked bleeding to death every time you tried to open a can (or at least I did) and it looked kind of weird (a friend of mine once described it as "nipple meat" which put me off for a little while) but still, delicious.  I don't know why I stopped eating it but I certainly can't remember the last time I bought it.

D, for reasons best known to himself, had long cherished the notion of making some corned beef at home.  It's odd - it is not something that it would EVER  have occurred to me to cook, primarily because it is one of those things, liked baked beans, that only exists as a canned foodstuff in my head.  The idea of taking a piece of beef and....well, corning it seemed odd. 

And what does corning refer to, I hear you ask?  Well, thanks to my friend and yours, Wikipedia, I can tell you that it is a reference to the coarse, granular salt used to cure the beef.  There doesn't appear to be a particular difference between "salt beef" and "corned beef" although pastrami, another cured beef product, is apparently smoked rather than boiled to give it a particular flavour.  So there you go. 

Anyway, it turns out that corned beef is absolutely delicious.  It tastes like the canned stuff but somehow amplified...meatier, spicier...and far more tender.  It's so good that we just ate corned beef sandwiches for tea on Friday, Saturday and Sunday with nothing more than slices of meat, mustard and dill pickles, and I am rather sad that I won't be having them again tonight.  Later this week we intend to make corned beef hash - I'll report back if it is good. 

Incidentally, in terms of points, I've been reckoning on 7 pro points per 100g cooked weight based on nutritional information I've found online.  50g is more than enough for a decent sandwich filling which works out at 3pps. 

Ingredients

Pickling spices:
1 tbsp allspice berries
1 tbsp mustard seeds
1 tbsp coriander seeds
1 tbsp dried chilli flakes
1 tbsp whole cloves
1 tbsp whole black peppercorns
9 cardamom pods
6 dried bay leaves, crumbled
2 tsp ground ginger
1/2 stick cinnamon
1 1/2 star anise

Brine:
4.5 litres of water
2 handfuls of sea salt (we always buy Maldon)
5 tsp pink curing salt
3 tbsp pickling spices
110g brown sugar

Brisket:
3kg piece of brisket
1 tbsp pickling spices

Some notes first of all.

Yes, 3kg of brisket is a lot.  Ours cooked down to about 1.7kg. This is still a lot.  The beef will keep for a couple of weeks in the fridge or can be portioned up and frozen.  It is delicious, and brisket is not a terribly expensive cut so I recommend making a load but, of course, I would assume this recipe would work perfectly well scaled down.

The pink curing salt is available online.  We bought it here.  The original recipe does state that you can make the beef without - the main difference will be to the colour which will be less vividly pink.

You need a BIG container for such a big piece of meat.  We used a large cake carrier Lock and Lock which looked huge - but could only get about half of the specified amount of liquid in even so.  The beef still worked beautifully but D did turn it every day to ensure that it all sides were getting well brined.

So here's what you do:

Toast the allspice, mustard seeds, coriander seeds, chilli flakes, cloves, peppercorns and cardamom pods in a dry pan over a high heat until the mustard seeds start to pop and the spices are fragrant.  Transfer to a pestle and mortar and lightly crush.  Stir in the ginger and the bay.

Now add 3 tbsp of the spice mix plus the cinnamon and star anise to the water in a large pan along with the sugar and salt.  Bring to the boil then remove from the heat.  Allow the liquid to come to room temperature and then put it in the fridge to chill.

Place your beefy behemoth in your chosen container and pour over the brine.  Cover and keep somewhere cool - the fridge or, in this weather, the garage.  Brine for at least 5 days - ours was in their for 10.  Turn the meat regularly.

When you're ready to cook, remove the meat from the brine and rinse with cold water.  We cooked ours in a slow cooker which was perfect for this type of joint.  We added a small quantity of water to the pot with a tablespoon of the pickling spice and then sat in the meat and gave it 1 hour on high followed by 9 hours on low heat at which point it was falling apart and the house smelled like a deli. Wrap in foil and rest for at least an hour before serving.

Wednesday, 11 December 2013

Weigh in Wednesday: 11th December 2013

Weeks 1-10: -24.5lbs
This week: -2.5lbs
Total loss: 27lbs


D promised me half a case of fizz if I managed to lose two stone by Christmas. He is now slightly worried...

Tuesday, 10 December 2013

Behind the curtain

Yesterday I went into a changing room and tried on some items of clothing.

Pauses while majority of readers think "???!??" and "Er...well done?"

But this is something of a big deal. Let me explain - I haven't tried on an item of clothing in a changing room for at least a couple of years. I don't know who invented the changing room - all pale, watery lighting, always slightly over heated and under sized - but it was not someone who was interested in boosting the ego of women. And when you don't really like looking at yourself in a mirror anyway, the prospect of seeing yourself in several different, unflattering angles simultaneously is not one that warms the cockles.

In any case, I'm not someone who takes a lot of interest in clothes when I'm bigger. There are some amazing plus size style bloggers out there who carry off dressing for curves with aplomb but me, I'm more about camouflage. Although it's fundamentally impossible to camouflage the fact that you're shaped like a Weeble.

Anyway, yesterday I went into a changing room! And I tried on an utterly frivolous outfit - a frothy skirt and a jumper with sequin detail. I didn't buy it. But I looked at it from every dodgy angle, noted that a semblance of waist was emerging, hummed and hawed and ultimately decided that it wasn't right and put it back. Like a completely normal person.

Talk about your small victories, right? But me, I'll take them wherever I can.

Monday, 9 December 2013

Restaurant Story - tall tales of delicious food

Restaurant Story is, D informed me as we walk from London Bridge station, on the site of a former public convenience.  We debate using scatological humour in the title of the blog post.  We have had several drinks by the time this conversation takes place, and the puns become more and more lame the further along Tooley Street we get.

We managed to walk past Story once but, when we finally find it, wonder how we could have missed it.  It looks a bit like a house from a fairy tale, incongruous on the London street.  Inside it is warm and bright.  Books line the walls, making it feel curiously cosy considering the size and nature of the space and the fact that there is a glass walled, brightly lit kitchen set to one side of the dining area (a waiter later tells us that the main kitchen is downstairs so this may be chiefly for show and plating).


The menu is simple - six courses or ten courses.  We, of course, opt for ten, despite the fact we have advanced notice that the table is only ours for two hours.  As it turns out we are there for over three, and a good thing too, for while only ten courses are advertised, we tot up that we actually chomp our way through twenty two platefuls.  I've read reviews that suggest each dish is linked to the "story" theme but I think this conceit must have been dispensed with, or at least relaxed, by the time we go and while some have nods to memory and nostalgia, in general the food is best described as very modern, very respectful of its component parts and, occasionally, very challenging.  We loved it.


The meal kicks off with a few quick fire "snack" rounds.  It's difficult to identify a favourite.  The crispy cod skin is remarkable - like a very thin, fishy version of a pork scratching.  I adore the radishes filled with kelp butter and deeply savoury rabbit "cakes" while D is particularly taken with the whole prawns - head and tail roasted, body raw - that need to be popped in a single mouthful, and the oyster and rye on courgette flower. 


I was excited to try the "bread and dripping course", which I'd already read about online, although more for the novelty value than the actual taste.  This has to be the kitschiest presented course I have ever eaten anywhere - a candle is brought to the table and lit when you first sit down:


and after you've finished the snacks, warm bread and jellied veal tongue and pickles are brought along for you to (get this) dunk in the melted candle wax!  Which is actually beef dripping!  Beautiful novelty aside, it turns out that beef dripping smeared on slightly salty bread is a Very Good Thing indeed.  In fact, one of my biggest criticisms of Story is that they do not bring us more bread after we have demolished the first couple of rolls.  They probably want us to save room.

But, since we're on the subject - let's talk about the negatives for a moment.  Two of the dishes on the ten course menu I had issues with.  The pig, chicken and langoustine, which I expected to adore, was not nice - an overly set chicken mousse wrapped in squidgily gelatinous pigs' trotter that really suffered from a lack of textural contrast.  And the prune tea with lovage and milk - well, it turned out that the milk component was milk skin draped over the fruit. I found this deeply unpleasant.  I am a serial custard avoider because of the possibility of skin. Now, I accept that both of these quibbles are primarily down to personal preference as opposed to a lack of skill in the kitchen.  And the thing is, when you've got an exciting young chef experimenting with flavours and textures and techniques then you are going to get hits and misses - I remember vividly not enjoying at least one course when we went to both The Fat Duck and Noma and these are regarded as two of the finest restaurants in the world.  Tasting menus mean that you end up eating things that you would never normally order, and sometimes this means an absolute taste sensation and sometimes it means that it's not quite your cup of tea, but being open minded and accepting the challenge of the new is all part of the experience.

And the highs at Story were really very high indeed.  The venison with yeast and elderberry, oh, it was just fantastic:


Plus one of the unexpected real treats on the menu turned out to be one of the dishes that sounded the least flashy - potato, turnip and coal oil:


The potato was as whipped and smooth as it is possible for a potato to be, with peppery kicks from the raw turnip and deep savoury notes from the coal oil.  It was blissful.  Actually, the only thing that could possibly have improved either of these two courses would have been to serve a dollop of the potato on the side of the venison. 

Desserts, overall, were the least successful part of the meal to my mind.  There were some interesting flavour combinations - who would have thought that almond and dill work so well together in a sweet context:


And I loved the sherberty sourness of the sea buckthorne pre-dessert palate cleanser.  But we thought that the Scandinavian influence was very apparent in the puddings which is a little alien to the English palate - and seems a shame given this island's fantastic heritage of rib sticking puds.  Again, this may be more of a matter of personal taste, but I would have loved (especially given the Story USP) to see something along the lines of gingerbread houses and chocolate soldiers or some riffs on British dessert classics (like Simon Rogan's truly phenomenal stiffy tacky pudding).

The petits fours were fabulous though - yellow plum puree with buttermilk foam served in school milk bottles with stripy straws:


And Mr Tunnock would have been proud at the rose and raspberry flavoured take on a teacake.

Minor gripes aside, Restaurant Story is the kind of place that reminds me why I love modern food and clever, modern chefs.  I can't wait to go back.  Although next time I will be taking along some bread rolls in my handbag.... 

Sunday, 8 December 2013

Recipe corner - partridge with bacon, lentils and parsnip puree


Sigh.  Yet again food photography that makes perfectly decent meals look like....well, slightly nondescript plates full of goo.  Perhaps I need to hire Lesley to be my photographer on a permanent basis.  Or take more time and trouble over the whole endeavour.  The thing is, when I've got to this (indicates upwards) stage, I want to eat!  And Strictly is on pause and I need to find out whether this is finally the week that Abbey trips over her own feet.

Anyway, this was a highly delicious weekend dinner that I thoroughly recommend.  It requires several pans and a bit of time, but pretty much everything can be prepared in advance and then heated through while the meat cooks.  Talking of the meat, I managed to slightly overdo mine (partridge breasts are very small) so I've reduced the cooking time in the recipe below but keep an eye on it if you have a particularly enthusiastic oven.

Ingredients

4 small partridge breasts
2 rashers of streaky bacon
25g butter
Several sprigs of fresh thyme
Salt, pepper

75g dried Puy lentils
Rasher of streaky bacon
Stick of celery
2 cloves of garlic
Tsp olive oil
100ml red wine
500ml (ish) chicken or vegetable stock
2 tsp red wine vinegar
Tsp juniper berries
Bay leaf
Small bunch of thyme
Salt, pepper

3 medium parsnips
250ml skimmed milk
15g Parmesan cheese
Salt, pepper, fresh nutmeg

Serves 2, 21 pro points per portion

For the lentils: Warm the oil through in a large pan (the lentils will cook better if the pan has a big surface area).  Finely chop the celery, garlic and bacon.  When the oil is hot, tip in the bacon and vegetables and cook until the veg are soft and the bacon is golden.  Then add the lentils and stir well to coat in the bacon fat.

Pour in the red wine and bring up the heat to reduce it quickly and furiously.  Lightly crush the juniper berries with the blade of a knife or the back of a spoon.  Add to the pan along with the thyme and the bay leaves and then pour in the stock and the vinegar.  Ensure that the lentils are well covered with liquid - if not, then you can top up with more water.  Season very well and then reduce the heat and simmer for at least 35 minutes until the liquid has all but evaporated and the lentils are tender.  Lentils tend to be variable little creatures so be prepared for it to take longer, and, if the liquid looks to be boiling dry, add a splash more.

For the parsnips: Peel and slice and then put in a saucepan, covered with the milk.  Cook over a very gentle heat.  The milk should be at a bare simmer throughout - any higher and it will catch on the bottom of the pan leading to a nasty burned milk smell in the kitchen and a very long washing up job.  The parsnips need to be falling apart soft - this will take 20-30 minutes.  Transfer the lot to a blitzer along with the grated Parmesan cheese, seasoning and a hefty grating of nutmeg.  Whizz to a smooth puree.  You could then pass it through a sieve if you're feeling extra cheffy.

For the partridge: I would recommend roasting these in a little foil tray - it saves on washing up.  Whatever you use, make sure it is not completely flat or you are liable to end up with melted butter all over the bottom of your oven.

Bring the butter to room temperature and then season well and mash in the thyme leaves.  Smear the butter over the partridge breasts.  Reserving a dab to butter the roasting receptacle.

Cover the bacon rasher with cling film and using a rolling pin (or similar) give it a good bash.  Cut the rashers in half horizontally and drape over the buttered breasts.  Transfer to the roasting tray.  To roast, preheat the oven to 220 degrees and then cook for 25 minutes.  Allow to rest for 5 minutes before serving with the parsnip puree and lentils, drizzled with the melted butter.

Thursday, 5 December 2013

Playing fast and lose: WW versus 5:2

If I have to diet (and, sadly, I do) then I want to do so it a way that doesn't make me miserable.  Or, in a way that makes me as un-miserable as it is possible to be while restricting the delicious foodstuffs I can chuck down my neck.  I choose Weight Watchers because it allows me to have pretty much anything as long as I account for it.  Of course you can't do this without spending quite a large proportion of your time poring over trackers doing food maths.  This is one of the reasons that some people hate Weight Watchers.

The idea of 5:2 is seductive.  OK, for two days a week you have to do a bit of planning and counting to bring your food consumption down to the requisite calories (500 for a woman, 600 for a man) but the rest of the time you are freed from the shackles and you can eat anything!  Anything at all!  And you'll lose weight and live longer and be cleverer!  Hurrah!

D has been doing 5:2 recently.  We've been eating a lot of soup.  And, keen to maintain my run of good results on the scales, I have been tempted by the idea of doing some sort of WW / 5:2 hybrid.  Given that last weekend we were spending a couple of nights down in London, and on one of those nights we would be tucking away a ten course tasting menu, I decided to do an experiment.  I decided that I would do two fast days, two holi-days and then for the rest of the week would stick to my WW daily allowance, and see what the scales would say to that.

Fast day 1
Calories consumed: 497 (13 Pro Points)
Moments I have spent cursing my bright idea: most of them

Here's the thing.  500 calories is not many.  And WW gets one so used to the idea of "free" fruit and veg, relying on it to add volume to the plate and to take the edge off one's appetite, it felt like a complete and utter affront to have to account for a portion of raspberries, a side salad, a satsuma.  And these are all things that I enjoy.  But I find myself weighing up whether I was willing to "spend" the calories on them.

What is abundantly clear is that fasting does not improve my mood.  In fact it turns me into a complete and utter cow.  D insists on an early supper, hoping a bowl of soup would have a restorative effect.  But it was like chucking pennies into the Grand Canyon.  I am HUNGRY.  I don't want soup.  I resent the soup.  I resent D.  I resent the stupid diet.  And, what's more, I was full of steely resolve to eat until I could eat no more the following day. 

Morning after fast day 1
Calories consumed (at 8am): more than yesterday
Moments I have spent praising the utter delicousness of food: legion

I expected to wake up having consumed half my pillow in the night.  As it was, slightly more hunger pangs than usual (I don't generally do breakfast and seldom fancy solid food before at least ten o clock).  We are travelling down to London today so decided a decent breakfast was in order - D was despatched to the Sainsbury's Local for sausages and bread and sandwiches were inhaled.

Bliss. 

Today is the day of the ten course tasting menu, so hopefully will banish all the scary memories of yesterday.  Interestingly enough, despite yesterday's resolve, after I have eaten breakfast I am sated and eat little until dinner.  I do not notice being any hungrier than usual. 

Fast day 2
Calories consumed: 413 (11 Pro Points)
Moments spent awake: few

New approach to today.  I spend most of it asleep as a distraction.  I sleep late, I doze in the car travelling back to Leeds and when we get home I have a substantial afternoon nap.  When I wake up it is past four.  I feel physically quite weak (this could well be psychological - I doubt very much sixteen hours without food can have that much of an impact) and, although hungry, can't immediately be bothered to make myself food. I drink tea, and sit listlessly on the sofa like a Victorian consumptive.

WW day 1

35 pro points is such.  A.  Lot.  In fact, I catch myself hoarding them like a miser and then get to the end of the day with some left in the bank.  Still in fasting mentality it would seem.  I force myself to eat a Dairy Milk Snowman (5 pro points of sickly seasonal bliss).

And the scores on the doors...

Two and a half pounds off which is a sterling result given the weekend.  But, but, but.  The misery of fasting.  To all of you out there who do this week in, week out, I salute you.  It is not for me.  Still, it has given me a renewed appreciation for the luxury of my daily points allowance and, y'know, food.

Wednesday, 4 December 2013

Don't tell Titus (that it's Weigh In Wednesday)

Saltaire and a December sky
Weeks 1-9: -22lbs
This week: -2.5lbs
Total loss: 24.5lbs


I'm on a pre-holiday roll people!  Which is lovely, albeit slightly unnerving.  It was a potentially challenging week but the scales have remained kind.  Perhaps they're saving up for the mother of all gains over Christmas.

I celebrated by heading to Saltaire to start some Christmas shopping.  It's a beautiful place and a fantastic source of the kind of gewgaws (love that word) that everyone (me) wants to find in their stocking.  When last I wrote about it, Sarah H (hello!) recommended Don't Tell Titus as a venue for lunch.  And it was, indeed, very nice, serving up a mean fish finger sandwich.  More places should serve fish finger sandwiches in my humble opinion.  The world would be a happier place.