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carbonelI suppose I should talk about the war, but I don't actually have anything useful to say. I hate the whole thing, and I hate Bush so much that even if we did belong in this war I couldn't support him.
So, bagels.
I've been dieting, which is something I seem to do every couple-few years. I'm pretty good at it, though I'm really lousy at maintaining a sane weight once I've lost it. I'd really like to fix that.
One new thing that I'm trying is eating breakfast. I've always been a non-breakfast eater at home, though I'm very fond of brunch, especially if someone else prepares it. I discovered that if I buy a dozen bagels and freeze them, they toast up just fine, and half a bagel with half a tablespoon of cream cheese fills me up enough that lunch is a pleasant interlude rather than a ravenous necessity.
I'm not dieting strictly by calorie count, but I did want to know how many calories my half-bagel was costing me. A number of places on the Web were quite clear: a bagel is 165 calories. Seemed reasonable. But I found a Bruegger's site that has specific calorie counts for these bagels, which are indeed Bruegger's brand, and it's almost twice that: 320 to 340 calories, depending on the variety of bagel. That's almost double! What kind of itty-bitty fake bagels are the people making the generic calorie lists using?
Since I've been losing weight nevertheless, I'm going to keep having a half-bagel in the morning, though I perhaps ought to consider whether a quarter-bagel will do the same amount of good.
The other thing I've been enjoying is the new flavor of Oregon Chai. I liked the usual stuff occasionally (from a coffeeshop), but it was always way too sweet. A couple of months ago I discovered that Lund's grocery was carrying a bunch of flavors of Oregon Chai, and there was one called "Slightly Sweet" that only had 21 calories per serving. I bought a box, and found that it was just right for my tastes. So I've been accompanying my bagel with a cup of chai -- half chai, half 1% milk, per the instructions (they don't specify type of milk, of course).
It feels quite decadent, which I approve of: any decadence one can virtuously inject into a diet should be encouraged.
I've also been eating whole grapefruits in the evening, peeling them like oranges. It can't be just a vitamin C shortage, because while oranges and minneolas taste just fine, it's the grapefruits I crave. Maybe it's the texture and ritual. A grapefruit takes quite a while to peel, if you don't like the white pulpy bits, and then more time to peel the skin off each individual segment. And it's a challenge to get the segment just right, but it's a sybaritic delight when I do. Those pre-peeled grapefruit segments that you can buy in jars just aren't the same. And of course you have to refrigerate those, whereas fresh grapefruit is best eaten at room temperature.
Alas, I ate my last grapefruit two days ago, and probably won't get to Lund's again until Saturday. But I have three perfectly good apples (at least, I hope they're perfectly good; the last one of that batch was mealy as Granny Smiths go) that have been peering out reproachfully from the refrigerator, so I shall Do Something about at least one of those.
I also have one of what Lund's was pleased to call a "cocktail grapefruit": a cross between pomelo and tangerine, if I recall correctly. Unfortunately, while at slightly larger than orange it was the perfect size (a whole grapefruit is a bit much, though I eat it all nevertheless), it wasn't the perfect flavor. If there were a generic citrus fruit, that would be it. Sour, without much flavor, loaded with seeds and skin, inferior pulp. Next time I went to Lund's, I asked the woman in the produce section her opinion of them, and she told me in no uncertain terms not to buy them and she didn't know why the store carried them. She offered me a refund, and I used it to buy minneolas, on her recommendation. Maybe I'll see if the lone remaining cocktail grapefruit will make a decent cup of juice; I feel guilty throwing out unspoiled fruit, even if I don't like it. Otherwise, there's the time-honored method of waiting until it's clearly no good, so I can throw it out with a clear conscience.
So, bagels.
I've been dieting, which is something I seem to do every couple-few years. I'm pretty good at it, though I'm really lousy at maintaining a sane weight once I've lost it. I'd really like to fix that.
One new thing that I'm trying is eating breakfast. I've always been a non-breakfast eater at home, though I'm very fond of brunch, especially if someone else prepares it. I discovered that if I buy a dozen bagels and freeze them, they toast up just fine, and half a bagel with half a tablespoon of cream cheese fills me up enough that lunch is a pleasant interlude rather than a ravenous necessity.
I'm not dieting strictly by calorie count, but I did want to know how many calories my half-bagel was costing me. A number of places on the Web were quite clear: a bagel is 165 calories. Seemed reasonable. But I found a Bruegger's site that has specific calorie counts for these bagels, which are indeed Bruegger's brand, and it's almost twice that: 320 to 340 calories, depending on the variety of bagel. That's almost double! What kind of itty-bitty fake bagels are the people making the generic calorie lists using?
Since I've been losing weight nevertheless, I'm going to keep having a half-bagel in the morning, though I perhaps ought to consider whether a quarter-bagel will do the same amount of good.
The other thing I've been enjoying is the new flavor of Oregon Chai. I liked the usual stuff occasionally (from a coffeeshop), but it was always way too sweet. A couple of months ago I discovered that Lund's grocery was carrying a bunch of flavors of Oregon Chai, and there was one called "Slightly Sweet" that only had 21 calories per serving. I bought a box, and found that it was just right for my tastes. So I've been accompanying my bagel with a cup of chai -- half chai, half 1% milk, per the instructions (they don't specify type of milk, of course).
It feels quite decadent, which I approve of: any decadence one can virtuously inject into a diet should be encouraged.
I've also been eating whole grapefruits in the evening, peeling them like oranges. It can't be just a vitamin C shortage, because while oranges and minneolas taste just fine, it's the grapefruits I crave. Maybe it's the texture and ritual. A grapefruit takes quite a while to peel, if you don't like the white pulpy bits, and then more time to peel the skin off each individual segment. And it's a challenge to get the segment just right, but it's a sybaritic delight when I do. Those pre-peeled grapefruit segments that you can buy in jars just aren't the same. And of course you have to refrigerate those, whereas fresh grapefruit is best eaten at room temperature.
Alas, I ate my last grapefruit two days ago, and probably won't get to Lund's again until Saturday. But I have three perfectly good apples (at least, I hope they're perfectly good; the last one of that batch was mealy as Granny Smiths go) that have been peering out reproachfully from the refrigerator, so I shall Do Something about at least one of those.
I also have one of what Lund's was pleased to call a "cocktail grapefruit": a cross between pomelo and tangerine, if I recall correctly. Unfortunately, while at slightly larger than orange it was the perfect size (a whole grapefruit is a bit much, though I eat it all nevertheless), it wasn't the perfect flavor. If there were a generic citrus fruit, that would be it. Sour, without much flavor, loaded with seeds and skin, inferior pulp. Next time I went to Lund's, I asked the woman in the produce section her opinion of them, and she told me in no uncertain terms not to buy them and she didn't know why the store carried them. She offered me a refund, and I used it to buy minneolas, on her recommendation. Maybe I'll see if the lone remaining cocktail grapefruit will make a decent cup of juice; I feel guilty throwing out unspoiled fruit, even if I don't like it. Otherwise, there's the time-honored method of waiting until it's clearly no good, so I can throw it out with a clear conscience.
