Friday miscellany

I'm due to do a monthly weigh in catch up this week but I've been avoiding it just like I *cough* avoided my weigh in on Wednesday evening.  Yes, I bunked off and yes, it was because I knew that I was likely to post a gain.  This is WW 101 - whatever happens you go to your weigh in.

At least I've kept myself vaguely accountable by reacquainting myself with my bathroom scales after a few days of avoiding eye contact.  So I know where I am.  And, as of this morning after a couple of good, solid days of tracking that is at a new low, so I have already reversed any damage.

However, lessons to be learned, as ever.  I did the classic thing - I let a bad day turn into a bad week.  We went out for a lovely meal on the Thursday night (review to follow shortly) and I never managed to get back on the wagon.  As always there are plenty of excuses masquerading as justifications but the bottom line was that I wanted to cheat.  There will be many more cheats and many more gains, but, in future, I will try and ensure that Thursday, the first day of the WW week, is on track in order to set myself up with the best possible start. 

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Tempting me back to the straight and narrow by making it too delicious to refuse, D made bangers and mash with a WW friendly twist this week. He took an entire head of garlic and slow roasted it for around an hour and a half until the cloves were soft and creamy. Simmered two drained tins of cannellini beans in a little vegetable stock until warm and soft and then blitzed them along with the garlic, a swig of lemon juice and plenty of seasoning. Voila, zero point mash.

Depending on how loose you want your texture, you could add a few splashes of water or stock. Or, if you’re feeling decadent you could whack in a knob of butter and/or a swig of olive oil. A brilliant mid week alternative to mashed potato if you’re trying to keep your points down. Although I would never advocate replacing them (spuds) altogether.

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I'm sure that I had something else to say and now I have completely forgotten what that was.  Anyway.  Hope everyone else out there in Blogland is well, and happy, and looking forward to the weekend.  D and I intend to climb Roseberry Topping on Sunday although he informs me that this is a walk rather than a climb to which I say - pshaw and, also, how many points do I earn if I cough up a lung?

Fit(bit)ness goals

I remember, it must have been a couple of years ago now, going on a walk with D and my parents out in the Dales. I was just coming to the end of some kind of chesty cold / cough type bug and feeling a little under the weather but nothing that some fresh air and sunshine wouldn’t fix. Well. I soon began to struggle. Any sort of gradient and my chest felt as if it was filling up with phlegm; I was coughing incessantly to try and shift it which not only wasn’t helping but was making breathing difficult. I started to get light headed and, at certain points, was struggling to summon the energy to both cough and put one foot in front of the other. It was horrible. Fortunately, there was a convenient point where the route of the walk intercepted a main road and my Mum and I settled down on picnic table for a hot drink while Dad and D finished and then came up in the car to collect us. So all’s well that ended well and a week or so later, the bug cleared itself up and I was absolutely fine.

But I mention this because I remember at the time thinking about how I have always taken the fact that I am not, particularly, physically restricted and that my distaste for exercise and attendant lack of fitness has never had a massive impact on my life. I have always been fit enough to do what I wanted or needed to do. I can go on walks, even ones with hills, tramp round cities and museums, go up and down stairs. I mean, yes, I’ll probably be redder and sweatier and slower than you, but I can do it. I have never, before or after that walk, actually had to say – you know what, I physically can’t manage this. And I am becoming acutely aware that this is an extraordinarily lucky state of affairs, and one that will not continue indefinitely unless I make some changes to my lifestyle.

I’ve always thought to myself – when I’m slimmer, that’s when I’ll start. I’ll start running. I’ll join a gym. I’ll do a Zumba class. But the weight loss needs to come first. What rubbish. Look at the amazing Lesley –she definitively proves that you don’t need to be pin thin to be incredibly fit and bursting with vitality. Just reading her blog makes me feel tired. But the results speak for themselves – she absolutely glows with health. I want that glow!

And, full disclaimer, I also want lots of Fit Points to shore up my daily and weekly Smart Points allowance. Yeah, come on people, this is always going to come back to the food, isn’t it? But I do think that Fit Points are one of the best things about the WW programme because seeing them build up is a great incentive for greedy cows like me. You have to earn a baseline of 4 points before you can start adding them to your bank (so, for example, if you earn 8 Fit Points in a day, 4 of them will be available for you to eat if you so wish). You don’t have to use them – and, indeed, since starting back on WW I haven’t needed them but the important thing is that they are there.

So I’ve clipped my Fitbit Zip to my bra and I have been making concerted efforts to up my steps. I have tried to incorporate little changes – getting off the bus to and from work a couple of stops earlier, for example, and popping out for a fifteen minute wander at lunchtime. The photos on this post were taken as D and I walked the seven mile Meanwood Valley Trail yesterday afternoon; the first time in a while that we’ve been out walking for walking’s sake. I’ve even dusted off my trainers and fired up the treadmill for a couple of Couch to 5k sessions which I’ve found HARD. But plodding along to an episode of “Queer Eye” or my rather eclectic Spotify “Running” playlist makes it bearable and a friend at work has started doing it as well, the end goal being we go for a run after work and then undo all our hard work with several stiff gins. Hey, whatever works to get me moving, I’ll take it.

Home and Away

Hurrah for the weekend!  Especially hurrah for this coming weekend which will see D and I head for the beautiful Lake District to celebrate our sixth wedding anniversary.

Six years!  Yes, I know, I'm surprised too.  Of course, a year of that we spent apart so perhaps it doesn't really count (although given that we were the least separated separated couple ever I think there's probably an argument to be had either way).  But still, it's a good run and very deserving of a bit of a bash.

We're actually going to be having dinner on the day at the Lake Road Kitchen and I can't wait to report back to you on that.  The reviews have been glowing, everything I've read or seen about the food there has got me salivating - I think that we are in for a real treat.

Not only that, but we are staying at The Drunken Duck which I'm sure that I have written about before.  It's a fabulous place and also happens to serve fabulous food so I'm going to be ensuring that I save room for an excellent breakfast.  We might need to get out and do some brisk walking to work up a bit of an appetite, but given the part of the world in which we will find ourselves, that will be no particular hardship.

Closer to home, we went for a meal at one of our local gems the other week.  Zucco serves kind of Italian tapas stuff - very much in the vein of Russell Norman's Polpo chain, and we are so lucky to have it on our doorstep.  The pictures are of two of our favourite dishes - a salt cod ravioli which came strewn with sage and glistening with buttery, winey juices and a whole baby Dover sole, cooked to perfection and drenched in a gorgeous caper butter.  It's not pushing any culinary boundaries but it is the kind of food that makes you grin broadly and use your finger to wipe the plate.

Have a gorgeous weekend, folks, and I look forward to providing a full account of our adventures next week.

Day 12: Mull - the art of scones

Hidden away in a forest, about 12 miles from the town of Tobermory, is a gorgeous little walk through a forest called (I think) "Art in Nature". Someone has gone to the trouble of installing some beautiful sculptures into the forest itself. And, at the end, you emerge onto a white-sanded beach called Calgary Bay. It's idyllic, well worth checking out if you ever find yourself on Mull.

What I especially like is that it begins (or ends, depending on preference) with a tearoom. All good walks should involve cups of strong tea and fruited scones slathered with butter and jam. The scones at Calgary were golden and crumbly and lightly scented with cinnamon which is a splendid idea that I intend to pilfer when next I bake scones, which I do not do nearly enough.

A Very Good Day.

Sloth

I have never been a big fan of exercise, being more akin to a sloth than any other creature in God's green Earth.  My nickname is not Sleepy Slouj for nothing.

Sloth.  Or me?  Image taken from https://gifts.worldwildlife.org

What I really want though (really, really, want) is to have a healthy, balanced approach to not just food but life in general, and exercise and fitness have to play a part in that, however much I would like to hide away from it (preferably in a pillow fort with my cat).

Recently, a friend of mine (well, I suppose officially she is a friend of D's but I am nicking her because she is the only person I know who gets as overexcited as me at the prospect of a Space NK discount code) tentatively suggested going to a class at the local fitness centre, on the strict proviso that we stand at the back.  The class in question was Clubbercise, which is basically just prancing around in the semi dark with disco lights and glow sticks.  It is waaaay more fun than doggedly stomping away on a treadmill.  And, subsequently, we have tried Aqua Aerobics (which I also love although have to spend most of the class attempting to stop my boobs making a break for freedom) and Kick Fit (great stress reliever).

I won't go so far as to say that I am a gym bunny, but I do find classes to be quite motivating and it is lovely to have someone to go with.  I have gone so far as to sign up for a monthly membership (the rolling kind which can be cancelled at any point - I know myself and the limits to my enthusiasm pretty well).  I'm very unfit at the moment, but I hope a few weeks of regular attendance will see a marked improvement.  Now that the weather is becoming distinctly more spring like, I'm hoping to get my walking boots on and if I could get up a hill without sounding like The Little Engine That Could, I would count that as a major achievement.

Classic Recipe Corner: Sage and onion stuffing

I’d love to preface this post with some beautiful shots of a freshly roasted chicken, perhaps some artfully strewn herb sprigs, a potato or two. But I can’t because, er, I forgot. Here, instead, is a view of Harewood House, taken while walking this Sunday. This was shortly before the start of the whingeing, the huffing up hills like The Little Engine That Could and the water bottle leaking all over my arse. It’s pretty though, bathed in the late autumn sunshine, and I love the fact that it is, literally, minutes outside of Leeds and yet almost convinces as a rural idyll.

Sheep!

Anyway...

It is to my great shame that up until a few years ago the only sort of sage and onion stuffing to ever grace my Sunday table was made by Mr Paxo. Paxo stuffing has a lot to recommend it, not least the fact that it is unquestionably a taste and smell of childhood. OK, it looks a little bit like the contents of a Hoover bag in its natural state, but I considered it as quintissentially Sundayish as The Archers.

I can’t remember why I decided to make a fresh stuffing, on a complete whim, for Christmas dinner a couple of years ago. Maybe I was feeling particularly Domestic Goddess-ey that day.
Edited to add: the idea originally came from my brother, D2 and sister in law who are roast dinner experts of the first order.

Anyway, make it I did from a completely traditional Mrs Beeton recipe and it was so glorious that it has appeared regularly on the table ever since, most recently this last Sunday, and yet never reared its head on the blog.

I love a roast dinner and it is possible to have a heaped plateful for a (relatively) reasonable number of points. Roast potatoes for example. I use just a tablespoon of oil for two people, cooling the parboiled potatoes and then tossing them in the (also cold) oil before putting them in the oven. It’s a contentious way of doing it, but I find it gives excellently crispy results and means you can control (and limit) the amount of fat you are adding. Meanwhile the volume on the plate which we all crave from a proper Sunday lunch can easily be created by piles of veg – carrot and ginger mash is a particular favourite of mine, zero points apart from a scant knob of butter tossed through at the end to add richness.

At 4pps, the stuffing is one of the pointier aspects but well worth it. Still, you could halve the portion and still have a dollop of lovely, herby deliciousness. Then, you could have the rest of it smeared all over your cold cut sandwich the next day.

Ingredients

100g sliced white bread, ideally slightly stale (crusts removed)
4 x onions, peeled and halved
10 (roughly) largeish sage leaves
40g butter
1 medium egg yolk
Salt, pepper

Serves 4, 4 pro points per portion

You will need a little blitzer, a large saucepan, a bowl, a slotted spoon and a spoon for mixing.

Fill the pan with cold water, place in the onion halves and a generous pinch of salt. Bring the pan to the boil and then simmer for five minutes. This will take the raw tang out of the onions and leave them sweetly flavoursome for the stuffing.

Meanwhile, place the bread in the blitzer and whizz into fine crumbs. Transfer to the waiting bowl.

When the onions have had their required bath, remove to the blitzer using a slotted spoon. Put the sage leaves in the still simmering water for around 30 seconds – again, just to take the raw taste off. Transfer these to the blitzer with the onions and whizz into a greenly speckled, savoury paste.

In the same pan, over a gentle heat, put the butter on to melt.

Remove the pan from the heat and tip in the breadcrumbs, the onion paste, the egg yolk and more seasoning than you think you need and stir briskly to combine.

Bake alongside the joint – I use disposable foil trays. The top will brown but the inside will remain much more yielding than packet stuffing. Serve alongside roast chicken and all the trimmings.

Sunshine? On a bank holiday weekend?

You must forgive me if I'm a little quiet over the next few weeks - I have an exam coming up which necessitates a lot of wandering around shaking my fist at myself for thinking having a job which involves passing exams is a sensible idea. 

We had a lovely time at the weekend though, so let's focus on that for now.  Saturday and Sunday were properly sunny days of a kind that seldom exhibit themselves on a British bank holiday.  The fact that they have subsequently been replaced by grey skies and drizzle doesn't really detract. 

D and I have been trying to have quality time together - actually doing things rather than behaving like any normal married couple and sitting around watching the telly.  So we strapped on our walking boots and, er, went for a walk.  After nine months of lying around on the sofa weeping into my wineglass, the five and a half miles proved something of a struggle.  I really must start swimming regularly to build up some fitness.

East Witton in bloom - note blue sky

The very best kinds of walk involve at least one stop off in a pub, and the circular route from Jervaux Abbey via East Witton (see here) does just that.  And what a pub as well!  The Blue Lion in East Witton is an absolutely fabulous foodie destination.  We only stopped off for a light lunch but the full menu almost had me leaving an unseemly trail of drool from the bar out to our table.


Lunchtime platter at the Blue Lion

D went for the platter: pie, cheese, pate, a scotch egg and some very lurid piccalilli while I opted for a roast beef sandwich with some excellent chips.  Were it not for the fact that there were miles to go to get back to the car, caution might very well have been thrown to the wind though - I think I might need to go back for dinner.

Now, if you'll excuse me I need to stop having fun and go and learn more about tax.  But I promise to be back later in the week with a recipe for cake.  Hurrah!

The Blue Lion
East Witton  
Leyburn,
North Yorkshire
DL8 4SN
01969 624273

I take my pedometer for a walk

Oh, how I wished that I was one of those lucky souls who enjoyed exercising. 

I think I've had phases of tolerating it to the extent that I got into the routine of going along to things that were not entirely loathsome and then quite enjoyed the positive effect that it had on my physical and mental wellbeing.  But it is far, far easier to fall out of a routine than it is to get into one. 

It's safe to say that I am not in any sort of routine at the moment.  There is a gym a mere hop, skip and a jump away with a lovely pool and a whole array of exciting classes and I am struggling to motivate myself to get there.  D keeps telling me that I should walk the half hour straight line between my house and my office rather than jumping on a bus.  He is right of course.  But walking along a main road is terribly dull.  And, also, have I ever mentioned before the terrible problems I have with general balance and rightfootedness?  Part of the issue is my weight distribution; I am essentially a Weeble - an almost perfectly spherical thing perched precariously on two little legs.  I have to actually concentrate to resist the pull of gravity which would have me toppling forward at any given moment in time.

And part of the issue is very simply this - I am terribly, terribly lazy.  I would, in all seriousness, list napping as one of my favourite pastimes - especially while being lulled by the dulcet tones of an audiobook or something soothing from Radio 4.  D tells me that sleep doesn't really count as a hobby.  I beg to disagree.  I thought that when I hit my thirties I would finally grow out of my rather teenagerish sleep patterns, the ability to sleep until noon if left undisturbed.  It has not happened yet and, the thing is, now that I live alone, I sometimes have very little motivation to rise from my rather comfortable bed.

The good folk at Weight Watchers obviously have encountered people of my ilk before as a part of the WW programme is a thing called Activity Points - essentially, if you exert yourself you earn bonus points which can, in turn, be scoffed.  I've noticed a lot of people on the message boards laugh in the face of such gluttony - why, they say, would I go to the trouble of earning these points to then eat them?  Why, say I, would you not?  And Weight Watchers have gone one step further by inventing a pedometer that not only counts your steps but beeps every time you have shuffled far enough to earn one of these precious, precious points.  I've been toying with the idea of buying one for ages but finally cracked on Friday and have been walking round with it clipped to me ever since - consulting it every so often to see how far I've walked.  As motivaters go, it's surprisingly effective.

On Saturday, D and I took the pedometer out for a walk.  There was a Gu chocolate ganache pot with my name on it in the fridge and, as I trotted, slightly sweaty and grim faced a few paces behind him, my ear was constantly cocked for the sound of the beep that would get me one step closer to guilt free pudding.

Oh, and there were some pretty spring flowers as well...

Although I must admit that sometimes I stop to take a photograph not so much because I am overcome by the beauty of nature but that I need to catch a breath or two...shhhhhhhh.