Elastic Waist

10 foods you should never skimp on at the grocery store

2008-07-24T22:00:00Z

I'm pretty ruthless while grocery shopping. In fact, I make an effort to get in and out of the store as quickly as possible. Hey, walking really fast while pushing a cart full of canned beans and a whole watermelon is resistance training, right? And sometimes this method fails me because I don't take the time to do the math and identify whether or not I'm making a good decision with my grocery dollar. I end up buying a lot of precut stuff, which is just wasteful because we all know it's cheaper if you do the chopping yourself. And we all know that many of the store brands are the exact same product as the one with the fancy label (and catchy commercial jingle) but in some cases, spending a little bit more can make a big difference in the quality of your groceries. Cheap Healthy Good breaks down some items where spending just a little bit more will pay off when it comes to taste, texture or general edibility (is that a word?) of your chow. Her list:

Coffee
Pickles
Premade pasta sauce and salad dressing
Lemon juice
Garlic
Pasta
Beer
Chocolate
Fish
Cheese

]]> Reading the post, however, I was stunned by what I consider automatics. For instance, we always have a jar of reconstituted lemon juice in the fridge for when you need an unexpected little acidity, but whenever I'm making something that requires lemon juice, I always buy fresh. I wouldn't even consider buying cheap cheese (although this might be a regional attitude, being from a state that prides itself on its artisanal cheeses). While we do buy some jarred pasta sauce, it's typically Newman's Own Five Cheese blend, because in a pinch, it's not only edible, it's absolutely delicious when tossed with hot pasta and Pecorino. And Esteban has threatened to send me back to the store if I come home with a pasta that isn't Creamette. Chocolate? Puhlease. In my mind, the only actual chocolate is the kind that doesn't taste like wax, and I get a much better high off of a single $2 bar of Lindt than I do from $10 worth of Hershey's. It's also just good nutritional sense to go with the bar that gets the job done with the least amount of fat and sugar.

However, we totally get jarred garlic all the time. But it's not a cost thing, it's a laziness thing. One thing not mentioned on the list, though, is peanut butter. I won't touch anything in the grocery store that costs less than Jif, but my favorite is Whole Foods' 365 brand of smooth all natural, and at $2 a jar, it's about twice the price as generic. The taste, though? A million times better. End of debate.

How about you? What are your must splurges at the grocery store? What wouldn't you even consider pinching for the sake of pennies? Which products do you buy that are store brand versions of higher priced items? Is Cool Whip the same as Kroger Whip? Do you do Cheerio's or Toastie-Ohs? What's going into your shopping cart?

naked: exercise can make you a narcissist. in a good way.

2008-07-24T21:30:00Z

I think most of us would say that we exercise for our health; for robust hearts and bellows-like lungs, big strong bones and big strong muscles that help us kick ass and take names. But I think a secret reason people exercise that we dislike talking about--because it makes us look vain, as if we don't care about our health, as if we are buying into the beauty ideal that we ought to be kicking to the curb--is that we exercise to look better. Especially naked. I submit this: there's not a thing in the world wrong with that.
]]> There's a problem, as with everything in the world, with taking it to an extreme. We're not talking about working out seven days a week for three hours at a time, but the idea of working out as a way to become the best versions of ourselves. The healthiest version we can get, whatever size and shape that turns out to be. The most fit, best cared-for, strongest version that we can get is arguably the greatest, in every sense of the word. It's the version who is proud of herself, and who feels good about herself, who knows that she's worth taking care of.

It's the version that will strip down naked without any shame or fear, and let herself be touched and admired and lusted after. It's the version that takes advantage of the fact that exercise ups your mood and blasts your libido into space. And that can take any form at all: walking around the block, or yoga three times a week. Training for a marathon or climbing on the Wii Fit. Whatever your body can do, and whatever makes you feel good, without a weight goal or a size goal or some unattainable body ideal as a goal. Abs so firm you can grate cheese on them? Feh. How about feeling so fine after a workout you want to make sweet, sweet love to that hot, sweaty chick in the mirror?

crave: cheery green headphones you won't trip over

2008-07-24T20:30:00Z

Do you know how many times, when I've been running on the treadmill, I've knocked my headphones out of my ears and sent my iPod crashing on the floor? Many times. A hundred thousand times, at the very least. And if I managed to not slap my player off of me, then the earbuds would start slipping out anyway, and go flapping around and neither of these things is, believe me, conducive to a productive workout that gets your heart rate up and keeps it there from healthy exercise. Though it is possible your heart rate may be elevated with rage.

That's why I'm eyeing the Sennheiser MX75 Twist-To-Fit In-Ear Stereo Sport Headphones. Not just because they have the best and longest name of any headphones ever, or come in a cheery green color that makes me happy and is totally fashion-forward, but because they're guaranteed to stay in your ears and the cords clip to your top, so that you don't get all tangled and feel very, very stupid when you have to stop the treadmill and go pick up your music player across the room. It all seems very revolutionary to me, but that might be the aftermath of the rage talking.

20 things you should eat even though they are so-called diet foods

2008-07-24T19:30:00Z

We all love lists of good foods (bonus: it's like someone wrote your grocery list for you) and the thing that struck me about Self's recent "20 superfoods for weight loss" is that the foods on them aren't just a good idea for dieters, they're a good idea for just about anyone.

Steak. Do you really need to be convinced to eat a big juicy steak? Vegetarians obvs get a pass, but order that tenderloin or New York strip...no guilt allowed.
Eggs. I find I'm much happier if I have an egg every morning, because I'm not cranky or chewing on a stack of Post-It notes during my daily 10:30 conference call. A super simple thing to do would be to boil up a dozen eggs and then grab one on the way out the door. And have you seen these adorable Bento supplies that allow you to make your hardboiled eggs into shapes, even into Hello Kitty? Squee!
Kale. Wendy McClure convinced me that I could actually eat this typical garnish and whaddya know, it's actually pretty good mixed with black beans and brown rice.
Oats. Anyone who has had to feed themselves off a college scholarship living allowance knows that you eat oatmeal and stay full for approximately two years. It's seriously impossible to eat too many calories of oatmeal, because it's coming out of your ears before you get to the 500 mark. But unlike other simple fillers, oatmeal stays with you even longer than eggs, which means that if you, like me, have a busy schedule, you can put off lunch until later in the day, which is just about when you needed a break from work anyway.
Lentils. I was always afraid of lentils, but then I kept staring at Heidi Swanson's amazing lentil soup with saffron yogurt and I hooked myself up. Dayam! You'll never go back to bean soup, folks, and apparently it's good for you too. Shhh...don't ruin my illusion that I'm eating high-end super-rich French food, mmmkay?
Goji Berries. Er, I'm sorry, Self, but these things are naaaaasty. I'd honestly rather eat a raw cranberry without any sugar. Next!

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Wild Salmon. Hooray for salmon! The best part about salmon is that it is honestly the fastest dinner I can make. All you need is to spritz a baking dish with some olive oil, toss in a slab of fish, sprinkle with some kind of spice (I really love Fox Point Seasoning from Penzeys), spritz with some more olive oil and then toss under the broiler for about 8-10 minutes. I usually steam some veggies or pull together a salad while I'm waiting for the fish. You can't even make it through the drive-through that fast!

Apples. I'm trying to watch my carbs, so I've been using apple slices as peanut and almond butter delivery devices, and every time I run out of apple slices, I'm sad. Oh so sad. Why do I always underestimate how many apple slices I can eat? Because I just don't give myself a chance to like fruit, that's why. I'm dumb.

Buckwheat Pasta. Who doesn't love Udon? Robots, that's who.

Blueberries. Diet, schmiet, how about a bazillion antioxidants that will keep you alive forever! Or you know, the normal amount of time, but make you look pretty and young while you're doing it.

Almond Butter. Esteban thinks I'm in a rut, with my 14 different types of peanut butter, so I've been branching out and trying almond instead. Tasty!

Pomegranates. I'm absolutely sure that it counts if you're getting your pomegranate goodness mixed with vodka.

Chiles. Hot, spicy, yummy, sexy...all food is made better with a little spice: chocolate, mashed potatoes, whipped cream (TRY IT)...everything.

Yogurt. Didn't Kim already convince you to eat this?

Quinoa. Protein! Iron! Magnesium! Quinoa is so good for you, it's practically Vitamin Q.

Sardines. I know, this is one of those things on that 11 best foods you're not eating, but I'm still having a hard time dealing with those little bodies, all lined up like...ugh, pass.

Tarragon. L'estragon est très français! L'estragon est délicieux ! L'estragon est sexy et incitera des personnes à vouloir dormir avec vous.

Parmesan. Ditch that green shaker that has been living in the back of your refrigerator for four years. Real parm should be grated as you need it, but is delicious on its own, in little wee cubes of nutty goodness. My favorite nosh fodder for parties is a lovely Stravecchio, drizzled with wildflower honey.

Avocado. You know that your heart will thank you, and bonus, smash it up and it's much more delicious than butter or mayo on a sandwich. And did you know that you can swap out avocado oil for olive oil just about anywhere? It's true.

Olive Oil. Oh, we are already all over this one, right? But did you know that you can do other things with olive oil that don't involve sticking it in your mouth? Make your own sugar scrub or use it to shave your legs too.

no boobs left behind

2008-07-24T18:30:00Z

There's a down side to weight loss. Boob loss. Look, I am not ashamed to declare I love my own boobs, they're the best! They're the only thing I've ever gotten for free that other people have had to pay for. Unfortunately, once my weight dips below 145, my full bosom starts to more closely resemble cow utters than the sexy-fun-time-appendages I enjoy so much. When I started shooting The Daily Special I weighed around 168. Now, after training for a stair climb, doing the SELF Challenge, and losing some old relationship weight I weigh about 136.

I should be doing cartwheels in the street, right? I mean that's a good 30 pounds lost mainly by living my life, yet my deflating boobage causes me some extreme sadness. I mean, I pay a lot for bras. When the nice woman at Victoria's Secret told me that I was a B-cup, I looked at her with a look of such harrowing sadness that she said, "Well, you could still wear a C...I mean it's a full B." Great, I've got saleswomen trying to make me feel better. Obviously a B-cup is nothing to be ashamed of, but having always been a C it was hard to see my girls go. I had to do something about this.
]]> That something is taking the birth control pill. Okay, yeah, not it's intended purpose, but for some reason one of the side effects of the pill for me has always been breast enlargement. Am I willing to chemically alter my hormones for the sake of perkage? Uh, yeah. I wish I could say "no," I wish I could just be cool with all the ebbs and flows of my body's changes, and for the most part I am. But seriously, Mother Nature, do not mess with my breasts.

We're all confident, sexy women, but we all have our insecurities too. Right? Or is it just me? What are you just not willing to accept as time takes it's toll on your body? How do you halt the effects of time and nature?

morning person

2008-07-24T17:30:00Z

It's 100 degrees right now, in Utah. But that's okay, because it is a dry heat, right? It's a heat that starts building up around 9:00 or 10:00, by noonish reaches its apex, and then, from noon until 4:00, it settles in, feels thick, implacable, unending. Those four hours are the longest and the heaviest of the day. When I'm home, I lie as motionless as possible in the coolest room of the house with all the blinds down, sprawled so that no skin is touching any other skin, breathing shallowly and letting the giant industrial fan blow hot air over me. The cat sprawls on the tiles in the hallway, which I have tried, but it is not good for my back.

I am looking forward to moving, this weekend, to my apartment with the central system that blows cool, forgiving air and lets me believe in life and the possibility of happiness again. But I am going to miss the best part of the day, when I am in my third-floor apartment. The early morning, around 7 a.m., before the sun has really started to work at it, and things have finally cooled off, overnight--it takes all night, for things to cool off. It is beautiful. It is cool and crisp, even a little chilly, and the slant of the light is luminous, and the crazy people who walk by at night are all still passed out in the back seats of their cars.
]]> It is my favorite time of day--me, the girl who has never been a morning person and never thought she would be--and it is over too soon. I get up and flatten my hair with both hands and go make myself a cup of coffee, if I am feeling ambitious, or pop open a can of Diet Pepsi. And then the cat realizes it is go time, and he is dogging my steps as I unlock the door. He shoots out between my ankles, as if I could change my mind at any moment, and I settle down on the stoop and ease into consciousness and thinking and being alive and in the day, when it is bright and cool and perfectly quiet.

Fang paces around the yard, bats the dead grass, gnaws the weeds, and then flops down in the dirt, where it is cool. We both watch the street, and the shadows shifting as the sun comes up far faster than it needs to, stupid sun, and then when I am done with my drink, I carry them both back inside, cup and cat, and wait for the apartment to heat back up. I'd wish that the morning coolness would have helpfully frozen my core, to keep my cool through the day, making me some kind of fancy swamp cooler, but then I wouldn't look forward to the morning so much, actually look forward to getting up out of bed. What we're going to do when we don't have a yard anymore, I am not sure.

dating coaches to the rescue!

2008-07-24T17:00:00Z

Ready to mingle? Join Kim as she gets some helpful pointers from dating coaches Jordan Harbinger and Johnny Dzubak on how to pick up and be picked up. Photos via Splash.

gastrosexuals bring the new sexy to your kitchen

2008-07-24T15:30:00Z

The first meal I ever cooked for Esteban was a re-creation of my mother's spaghetti sauce. It was, well, kind of a disaster, in a wacky hijinx kind of sitcom way. One of the first meals he ever made for me involved an enormous pot of overcooked spiral pasta, ground beef and so much Kitchen Bouquet that the entire thing tasted like industrial sludge.

Since then, we've gotten a lot better in the kitchen and Esteban has absolutely perfected several dishes, so I leave all manner of Italian or tomato-based dishes to him, because his ragu sauce is unbelievably amazing. Bonus: unlike me, he never ever messes up the angel hair pasta. He doesn't follow recipes, so each batch is a new discovery, a little unpredictable and sometimes widely varying, depending on what we have in the house. Sometimes he uses portobello mushrooms, sautéed in garlic, olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Sometimes he throws vodka or whiskey into the sauce, sometimes there's tofu instead of meat. Sometimes he cooks pepperoni until it has the consistency of crispy bacon and then crumbles it into the sauce for these little spicy flavor bombs that make my mouth happy. You never know what you're going to get, but sometimes, like last week, his 7-quart batch is so amazing that I eat nothing else until it is gone and then go to the store to buy more ground round and tomato sauce so that he can turn around and do it again.
]]> I have to admit, there's nothing sexier than coming home from a grueling day at the office to be met with a man holding a spoon, saying, "Here, try this. More garlic?" but a new breed of playah has been identified. In the way that the metrosexual uses his fine wardrobe and nice smell to alert and confuse potential mates of either gender, the gastrosexual uses his chiffonade skills to woo and seduce. Via our secret blog crushes at the superb Radar Online:

Says a spokesperson for food company PurAsia: "Male Gastrosexuals in particular are no longer content with what they can find at the back of the kitchen cupboard. They are looking for something much more satisfying in terms of taste, participation and effort." Yeah. Something like poon.

The Daily Mail gives the example of Jamie Oliver (okay, swoon!) but over the weekend at Blogher, a session actually ended 15 minutes early so that the attendees could all go put on lipstick before meeting Rocco DiSpirito. And later, when I bumped into him in the lobby of the St. Francis Westin, I may or may not have gotten a little giggly.

Do you know a gastrosexual? Does your guy make mincemeat of your knife skills? Have you ever been wooed by someone's goat cheese pizza or incredible bechamel sauce? The comments are drooling.

delicious: cheesecake you don't have to cook

2008-07-24T14:00:00Z

One of the reasons I love cheesecake is because it combines the two foods that are closest to my heart: cheese, and also cake. And then, it is bound with a graham cracker crust, which makes it somewhat pie-like, and that's just adding another layer of exactly how to win my eternal love. The only problem with cheesecake is that, despite the fact that I am a pretty decent baker, every time I bake one it cracks and crumbles and while it is tasty, its ugliness breaks my heart. A no-cook blueberry cheesecake bar recipe sounds like the thing to paste it back together again, and then fill my belly with deliciousness, and then all my organs are in good shape! And that is a good way to have your organs be. I also love that it's so easy to throw together and will impress your guests, but doesn't involve instant pudding and store-bought crusts. Take that, Sandra Lee.

does your neighborhood affect the size of your ass?

2008-07-23T22:00:00Z

Whenever I visit California, I always find myself thinking, "Man, I would lose SOOO much weight if I lived here." And I wholeheartedly believe that, because even with all of the vodka drinks and cha siu baau buns, I still find myself walking much more and opting for the vegetarian fare and delicious, perfectly ripe fruit over fatty and carby options. When I get home, my jeans are loose. But the simple fact is that in California, it's just much easier to find excruciatingly healthy food as you go through your day than it is if you're living in Wisconsin (particularly in the non-summer months), when the only place you're going to find edible vegetation is at one of the grocery stores in the suburbs.

A group of scientists at the California Center of Public Health Advocacy have quantified my own observation and put it into a measurable statistic. God, I love those folks in the white coats! Check it: they calculated the proportion of fast-food restaurants and convenience stores near each adult's home compared to grocery stores and produce vendors. From our bffs at Slashfood:

Based on their analysis of 40,000 people, the study's authors determined that the average California neighborhood has an RFEI of 4.5. According to their data, adults who live in an area with an RFEI of 5 or higher have a 23% higher chance of developing diabetes and a 20% higher chance of being obese than those who live in an area with an RFEI of 3 or less.

]]> Taco Bells and Sonics in your neighborhood, you're more likely to be overweight than if you are surrounded by farmer's markets and fruit carts. Although really, remember, correlation is not the same as causation: after all, these places are businesses. If everyone said "No way" to Big Macs, McDonald's would respond by changing their business strategy or they would go out of business. If the big money was in the fruit vending business, all the hot dog carts would start slinging bananas and carrots. It's easy to point fingers at the big baddie fast food guys, and we are clearly making the decisions, but there is something to be said about the fact that modern life can make it very difficult to eat healthy when you have ten minutes to run out and grab lunch and there are fast food joints as far as the eye can see.

crave: workout tanks that don't break the bank

2008-07-23T21:30:00Z

I was shopping for new tank tops to wear to the gym--just something simple, cotton, to throw over a sports bra. I kept browsing, and I kept choking on my tongue. Twenty-five bucks for something without sleeves. Thirty-five bucks. Forty-five bucks. Forty-five bucks for tanks without any space-aged materials, even! Even the single-serve undershirt-style tank tops were eight or nine bucks each, but after awhile, that sounded totally reasonable. On my way to check out, on a whim, I swung over to the men's section, and almost choked on my tongue again, when I found a pack of Hanes athletic tank tops for ten bucks. Ten dollars! For five generous-length, pre-shrunk, tagless, all-cotton tank-tops in a huge range of sizes that are perfect for layering over a sports bra. I've seen packs of gray and black, too, at my local Target and I may be starting a collection. And while I'm at it, a letter-writing campaign.

rest in peace, sophia petrillo

2008-07-23T21:00:00Z

You already know how much I love me some Golden Girls, and yesterday's passing of Estelle Getty is bittersweet. She was the youngest of the four, certainly ironic as she was playing Dorothy's mother, but in one of those Alannis Morissette ways, like the character she is remembered for, she has spent the last several years suffering from an age-related brain condition. Sundry recently tweeted that she was having a hard time feeling bad about Estelle's death and I have to say, I agree. I don't feel sad at all. Having gone through the pain of watching as my grandmother disappeared, bit by bit, over the process of a decade, Estelle has gone through enough confusion and misery. I would feel selfish to do anything but celebrate her life and the million times she made me laugh.

So let's take a minute and enjoy her comedic stylings once more and if you feel like applauding (or crying), you go right ahead.

elastic waist book club: women & money

2008-07-23T20:00:00Z

All I know about Suze Orman is that she has written a crapload of books about managing money, being wealthy, taking control of your wealth, sitting on top of your money and generally being well-off. She's got a television show I've never seen, five NYT bestsellers I haven't read, and she's apparently a buddy of Oprah's. I have never picked up any of her books, despite the fact that I am wretched with money, because part of the reason I'm wretched with money is that I am afraid of it. I'm afraid to look at what I actually have and what I've actually done, and see that I'm in far deeper shit than I have ever imagined. It's terrifying, and it's easier to skate along the surface and just assume everything is going to be alright, and then go buy shoes. Who needs a retirement fund?

Not being sure of the future, ten years from now or tomorrow, is no way to live. And when I was looking for books on budgeting, I ran across Women & Money, flipped to the jacket, and read, "If money is the difference between a future of security and comfort and a future of doubt and fear; if money is a major factor in your personal happiness; if money is a reflection of how you value and perceive yourself...why don't you take better care of your money?"

And that is a damn good question. Why do I let something so important go so completely to hell? It's a pretty big chunk of Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, the need for security--right above breathing, food, shelter. And I'm willing to be that it's a very big part of the reason I am not entirely a confident, secure person, and not living exactly the life I want to lead, not able to concentrate entirely on the things I want instead of the things I need.
]]> Money is an incredibly charged, incredibly emotional topic, and as I work through the introduction of the book, in which Orman discusses women's relationships with money, I am still surprised at how much I recognize myself in there, and I am frustrated, that I have let myself get to my advanced age being so naïve and careless with my finances. But that's what the book is supposed to do, right? Point out the problems, and then offer a raft of solutions.

On Friday, we'll talk about the introduction and the philosophy behind Orman's plan, and then next week, let's talk about the plan itself. And what we're going to do with all our new-found money.

jennifer hudson's album cover has a case of the flesh-eating virus

2008-07-23T19:00:00Z

When the hullaballoo over the new Jennifer Hudson album cover came out, I reserved judgment. After all, I don't know what's going on with J.Hud recently. Maybe she's been losing weight and succumbing to Hollywood pressure after all. I haven't actually looked at her or anything. Maybe she wasn't airbrushed out of oblivion on the one thing that was supposed to be celebrating who she is, without worrying about selling clothes or making magazine editors happy, nothing. An album intended for fans who already understand that the girl played Effie not Twiggy. Surely RCA Records wouldn't slap her head on someone else's body, would they? Would they?

Want to see a beautiful woman? Here she is, looking normal and casual and awesome. And it doesn't matter that she's got an Academy Award. It doesn't matter that she can sing like an angel. It just doesn't matter because she needs to keep her awesome rack but somehow have her waist whittled down until her ribs seem to no longer exist. That's what matters.

To quote the Wicked Witch of the West, oh what a world, what a world.

workshopping

2008-07-23T18:00:00Z

So I signed up for that writing workshop. And I regretted it, the day I was supposed to start. Regretted it hard, and spent a lot of time worrying. And now, it's two writing workshops down, with next week being the last one, and already I'm nostalgic, and sad, and don't want it to end. Which, you might have noticed, is a full 180 degrees away from panicked, and terrified, and wanting it to never start. That's always a nice surprise, when things don't blow up in my face exactly the way I expect them to. Someday it'll stop being a surprise, because things so infrequently turn out exactly as terrible as I think they will, and that is an object lesson--gormless fear takes up entirely too much energy, and wastes entirely too much time that could, instead, be spent clog dancing for cardiovascular fitness or thinking about cheese. Write that down, everyone! Don't worry so much that things are going to go wrong. Wait until they actually go wrong. And then figure it out from there.

It was an adult education class--people who are looking for a little stimulation, a little culture, a little comradeship, who are a little bored. And they were enthusiastic, this room full of writers who want to write more, and it was really, really nice. We talked about the basics, and I said useful things, I think, and I learned useful things from the useful things other people said, and I love the instructor and want to be her best friend. She is a sci-fi nerd, and funny and enthusiastic and fun, and really, we ought to get married. But everyone was cool, if a little weird--and that pretty much sums up a person who wants to write, I think.
]]> The class has got me thinking, again, about the actual process of writing, and figuring out stories and making them go. We freewrote, as I feared, and it wasn't anywhere near as terrifying as I feared it would be. Well, I stared at the blank page for a full minute, panicking, and then I put my pen down and wrote a scene and it turned out surprisingly well. Even surprisinglyer, it was fun. It was everything I had missed, and again I was reminded that I like to write, and left wondering why I never make time to do it, and wondering what I am so afraid of.

I wrote a scene that may end up being a story, maybe even sometime this week. I wrote a character sketch for the novel that's been hanging around in my head for two years now, and I'm excited to write the book. And I am working on not worrying, so much, any more, about every little thing, and just doing the things I love to do, and maybe learning to enjoy the things that terrify me.