Thrifty Tasty Tuesday: Individual Zucchini Quiches

        For the past several years, we've had a vegetable garden in the summer. The most successful plant is always zucchini. I love picking them when they're small—still tender and slightly sweet. They're delicious sauteed with a little chopped onion or brushed with olive oil and grilled with a sprinkling of herbs. But zucchini plants are HUGE and every once in a while you end up with these giants that go unnoticed until they're the size of baseball bats.

         So I'm always on the lookout for recipes that use grated zucchini. This week I tinkered around with a recipe for individual quiches. These are just what my diet ordered—a make ahead breakfast or lunch with lots of protein and veggies that can be frozen and reheated in the microwave.

Individual Zucchini Quiches

makes 12

2 cups of grated zucchini

¼ teaspoon salt

6 eggs

¼ cup buttermilk

¼ cup feta cheese*

¼ cup shredded parmesan cheese*

¼ teaspoon thyme

dash pepper

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Spray a muffin tin with nonstick spray (or line with muffin papers).

Sprinkle grated zucchini with salt and set aside in a colander while you prepare the other ingredients.

Whisk together eggs and buttermilk thoroughly. Add cheeses, thyme and pepper.

Squeeze as much of the water out of the zucchini and fold into the egg mixture.

Pour into prepared muffin tin and bake for 20-25 minutes until puffy and slightly browned.

Allow to cool in tin for a few minutes before removing.

*You can use whatever cheese you have on hand. I chose feta and parmesan because you get a lot of flavor in a small quantity of cheese.

New Year, New Feature

             I have a confession to make. I made some New Year’s resolutions this year. I don't usually. I believe that if something needs to be changed in your life, change it. Don’t wait for a special day on the calendar. This year, the need to make a change has been building for months.

I won’t go over the laundry list of clues that my body has given me that it's time for a change. I will tell you that my chiropractic bills could fund a pretty nice vacation and my bathroom scale hasn’t been so cruel since I was sporting maternity clothes. It’s time to start treating myself better.

I’m not focusing on counting  every calorie or working out like a maniac. In the cold heart of winter that would be setting myself up for failure. I’m simply eating better and moving more. I’m walking to the bus stop and doing yoga when I can fit it in to my schedule. I’m planning my meals instead of suddenly realizing at 4:30 that we’re all hungry and there is nothing easy to throw together in the house. That’s a recipe for a trip to Little Caesar's or Wendy’s with a Zantac chaser.

This past weekend I was filling my grocery cart with food and reflecting on our first week of healthy eating. It had gone really well. While I haven’t lost much weight, I was feeling better than I had in months and my family enjoyed my meal choices. Another huge bonus: I was saving money.

There is a perception that eating well is expensive. It doesn’t have to be. I had the unique good fortune growing up learning lots of tricks for eating well without spending a lot of money. My mother was the department head of a large inner city Home Economics department. She has years of experience feeding people on the cheap and teaching people to eat well. She and I will be teaming up to bring you a  new feature on this blog, “Thrifty, Tasty Tuesdays: Feeding your Family for Less.” Each week we’ll bring you tools to help your family stay healthy on a budget. Sometimes it will be a recipe, other times it will be general tips go easy on your wallet and your waistline. I'll use ingredients that are widely available and I won't use any fancy equipment. Also, every recipe will have to pass the scrutiny of a couple of veggie-fearing, fried food-loving, sugar-craving judges:

Fast food? Us?

            So watch this space next Tuesday for our first installment of Thrifty, Tasty Tuesday. Start the new year with a healthy diet and a healthy bank account!

Lean and Mean

 

            Suzanne could feel the security guard watching her toned legs as she strutted past. Two months of sweating through Pilates and kickboxing had made her lean and fit.  She smiled at the slight ache of emptiness in her belly. Suzanne had replaced dozens of meals with high protein shakes. She could ignore the hunger until her afternoon snack of celery and a hard-cooked egg.

            “Suzanne, come in here. Dana baked a cake for Rob’s birthday,” Jonathan called from the staff lounge.

            If anyone else had invited her, Suzanne would have kept walking. But Jonathan was the manager so she had to sing Happy Birthday along with everyone else. Suzanne made an effort to not role her eyes at Dana playing the happy homemaker passing out slices of cake, a dollop of chocolate ganache on her frumpy paisley blouse.

            “Are you sure you don’t want a slice Suzanne?” Dana asked.

            “Oh, no. I’m still full from breakfast,” she lied. “I really ought to get back to my desk. Happy birthday Rob.”

            The intern smiled and waved, his mouth too stuffed with chocolate cake to speak.

            “Do you have a moment to talk?” Jonathan asked.

            She nodded and they walked to his office. He weighed his words before he spoke.

            “It’s the new client.”

            “What’s wrong? I thought they loved the campaign.”

            “They did—the artwork, the new slogan, all of it. But they’re a plus-size women’s catalog Suzanne. They feel you can’t relate to their customers.”

            “That’s absurd. Their customers are women who love clothes. I’m a woman who loves clothes. The only difference is a few pounds.”

            “They’ve requested Dana to be their account manager.”

            “Dana? You can’t be serious.”

            “You and she have different styles. They want Dana and that’s who they’ll get. Pass along your files to her today.”

            Suzanne handed off six months of brilliance to Dana’s assistant, before storming into the lounge for her snack. It had gotten pushed to the back of the refrigerator by the remains of Rob’s birthday cake. She brushed her sleeve against the shimmering frosting as she reached inside.

            “Damn,” she said wiping away the offending chocolate with her hand. Without thinking she licked her fingers. She felt a rush of euphoria as the rich flavor filled her mouth.

            “Oh my God,” she whispered, breaking off more cake. Her knees nearly buckled from the sweet tart surprise of the raspberry filling. Suzanne’s self-control shattered. She devoured the cake and licked the plate clean in seconds.

            Mortified, she washed the plate and laid it in the drainer just before the door opened. It was Dana.

            “Thanks for getting those files to me. I hope there are no hard feelings.”

            Suzanne shrugged, hoping to hide her guilty secret.

“It happens. The client is always right.”

            “I just came in to get my cake plate. It looks like someone washed it. How nice.”

            “Well, I should get going. Have a good weekend.”

            “You too. Suzanne?”

            “Yes?”

            “You have a little chocolate on your forehead.”

            This week’s Write on Edge prompt was “To flip freedom upside down and write about the forbidden or the taboo. The word limit was 450.” Speaking of taboos, I went a little over the word limit. Although I did manage to cut over 200 words from the first draft. This story may or may not have been influenced by the fact that I started a diet this week. 

A Good Way to Start the Day

 

            I woke up this morning absolutely determined to do some writing. I have been making a huge effort this week to get more exercise and even go on a (cringe) diet. I won’t bore you with the details of the diet. Suffice it to say that after a year of increasing my work hours followed by a vacation to Hershey, it had to be done. The only writing I’ve been doing this week is in my diet journal. I was determined today to do some real writing. I was not even going to check e-mail or Facebook. I was not going to read any blogs. I was going to get up and write!

They like us! They really like us!

            I dutifully recorded my weight into my log (down two pounds—yay me!), got a cup of coffee, and opened my laptop. I was ready to write. I was not going to get sucked into reading something else. I wasn’t… that is until I realized I had left the computer open to Facebook and I had a lot more notifications than usual. Curiosity got the better of me and I checked. This was one of those rare times I’m glad I got distracted.

            Several of those notifications were messages of congratulations. This past winter, I was in a production of The Odd Couple. It was the first time I had been on stage in over ten years. I must still know what I’m doing, because I was nominated for a DASH (Distinguished Award and Special Honor) for Best Specialty Ensemble along with Maureen, the brilliant woman who played my sister in The Odd Couple. DASH awards are given out by the Eastern Massachusetts Association of Community Theatres. There is a big gala at the end of the summer. It’s a good thing I’m on a diet, because I think I’m going to need a new dress.

Diet? What Diet?

            My regular readers might recall that back in January I did the very foolish thing. I publicly announced that I was going on a diet. My doctor had informed me that I packed on an extra fifteen (or so) pounds—and that was before Christmas. Despite my feeling that New Year’s resolutions are just plain silly and knowing that January is the worst possible time to start a diet. I went on and on about how I was going to stick to the diet prescribed in the book The 400 Calorie Fix. I ordered the book and then pretty much forgot about it. I mean seriously January is cold and dark. It’s the perfect season for baking and eating, watching old movies, even writing in your journal—but weight loss? Not so much.

            Dieting simply wasn’t going to happen in the darkest days of winter--especially while I was directing a show. By the time late March arrived, I was living on pizza, cheeseburgers, Guinness and black coffee. Here’s the weird part. I didn’t gain any more weight. I chalk it up to adrenaline and dumb luck. It certainly is not the path to health and well-being. 

            But now my show is over, and so are my excuses. I’m proud to say that I’ve finally gotten around to not only reading The 400 Calorie Fix but also implementing it into my life. The book recommends eating four four hundred calorie meals a day and is loaded with information about what 400 calories can be. It offers choices at fast food and chain restaurants, frozen dinners, and easy to prepare meals. There is also a cookbook section with some great recipes but the book is primarily about learning to identify a 400-calorie meal. There are many photos in the book to help you “see through a 400 calorie lens” as they say.

            The book also has a 1200-calorie a day “quick start” plan, which they recommend for doing no more than two weeks. I tried for the first few days. While it did work (I shed the first few pounds quicker than I anticipated), I felt much less likely to cheat when I was eating the 1600 calories a day. Besides, experience tells me that losing weight that quickly means it’s going to come back as soon as you go back to “normal”.

            So far, the strategy is working well for me. Years ago I tried the old 5 small meals a day and never succeeded. The meals were either so small I felt unsatisfied or too large to eat five times a day. Four hundred calories on the other hand is can be quite filling—as long as you plan well. Obviously if you eat 400 calories worth of potato chips you’re going to be hungry (and probably malnourished) soon.

            The thing I like most about this plan is the flexibility. You don’t cut out any one kind of food like with low-carb and low-fat diets. Plus, how and when you eat those 400 calories is up to you. So for those evenings that I have the night off and I want to watch a movie with my husband I can save a “meal” for that time. I’ll spend my fourth 400-calorie meal on a glass of wine and some cheese and crackers. On days when I’m really active with my kids, I usually need a snack to pick me up in the afternoon instead.

            I even made it through my family’s Easter brunch without going calorie crazy. I filled up my plate with fruit and steamed asparagus, then took very small portions of the roasted red potatoes and ham that my sister made and the pancetta and spinach quiche my mother made. Okay… I had to go back for seconds on the quiche—it was SO good. I also went easy on the scones and other baked goodies. And I didn’t steal any jellybeans or chocolate from the kids (although the remains of the Easter egg hunt continue to haunt me).

            I’m very pleased with the results so far. I’ve lost around six pounds in just over a week. More importantly I don’t feel as if I’m depriving myself of anything. While I promise not to turn this into a diet blog, I will keep you updated. The 400 Calorie Fix seems like a common sense and realistic approach to weight loss.

Eat, Drink and be Merry… for Tomorrow we Diet

            I’ve never been a big fan of New Year’s resolutions. If you want to change something in your life, just do it. Why wait for some special date on the calendar. Besides, most resolutions involve giving up some form of comfort—food, nicotine, sitting around on your butt. Who wants to do that during the darkest, coldest time of the year? One of my favorite bloggers (who happens to be my niece) once wrote, “I think January is a terrible time to resolve anything. January is cold. January is long. January is when you lie in bed and eat pie.” The only resolution I ever really enjoyed keeping was one I made before my children were born. I decided to stop buying boring underwear. That was a fun resolution—but I didn’t even keep that one for long. A few months later I was wearing maternity underwear.

This year, however, my physician has told me that I need to drop fifteen pounds. Normally, if given medical advice, I follow it immediately. It’s one thing when your favorite jeans are snug.  It’s another thing altogether when your weight raises your physician’s eyebrows. My dad had his first angioplasty when he was in his mid-fifties and his father never saw sixty-five. I take heart health very seriously. Since Dr. M’s orders came mid-way between Thanksgiving and Christmas, I went home and started making fudge instead of starting a diet. I don’t diet at Christmas. I enjoy myself. I eat prime rib and apple pie on Christmas Day and my Aunt Diane’s meatballs and my uncle Brad’s chicken cutlets on Christmas Eve and my husband’s rugelach whenever no one is looking. I wash it all down with red wine or bourbon. I. Love. Christmas.

            Now even the beef and barley soup made from the bones of the Christmas roast are gone. It’s time to follow doctor’s orders. Exercise won’t be a problem. I love putting in time at the gym. I love getting sweaty and really earning a long hot shower. I really like being able to do more push ups than some of the big scary looking muscle heads at the Y. Sadly, I can’t out-push-up the muscle heads these days. For a variety of excuses reasons I haven’t been my exercise fanatic self for the past few months. In addition to not being quite so svelte, I’m also not as strong as I was a year ago and that bothers me more than anything. I’m also not as fast. I ran a 5K on Thanksgiving and added eight minutes to my time since my last 5K two years ago. Eight minutes—plenty of people can run a mile in that time (not me of course—maybe if I were being chased by a gun-toting bear I could run that fast for a whole mile).

            My challenge is going to be food. You know how some people say their weakness is sugar or chips or fried foods. My weakness is… food. All of it. I can’t stand the idea of giving up a particular food group like carbs or fat. If I give myself too many rules, I’m going to break them. I think I’ve found my best bet. The editors of Prevention magazine have come up with a book called The 400 Calorie Fix. The idea is pretty simple. You get to eat four, 400-calorie meals a day or three 400-calorie meals plus two snacks that equal 400 calories. 1,600 calories a day is a long way from deprivation and still a big enough cut from the way I’ve been eating. Mixing that with a renewed commitment to working out should get me started. I’ll let you know how it goes. But I promise not to be one of those people who talk about nothing besides their diet. But I’ll tell you this, the minute I can do more push-ups than the guys at the gym, I’m telling everyone.

Run Vickie! Run!

            I’m a runner. That sounds weird to me. I didn’t start running until well into my thirties. I wasn’t a high school or college athlete. The last time I played a team sport was intramural basketball in the 5^th grade. Some of my former teammates read this blog. Maybe they can tell you about the only basket I ever made—into the wrong net. Who knew you changed sides at the half (everyone but me apparently)? If I hadn’t been the shortest girl in school my athletic skills still would have been lacking. One might even say hopeless. Even though sports were a mystery to me I was in pretty decent shape. I danced and did Jane Fonda’s workout daily during high school—sometimes twice a day. I guess that’s why I stayed under 100 pounds. I was a little obsessed. I didn’t even know I was thin. There is no skinny like teenaged skinny and there is no stupid like teenaged stupid (apologies to my nieces of that age who are a thousand times smarter than I was back then).

            This week I realized that the running shoes that I bought right after the kids went back to school in September were still looking really new. I think they had only been on my feet once or twice. Not coincidentally, I noticed that my church clothes were uncomfortably tight around the waist. I try to avoid stepping on scales—it makes me crazy, but I knew I had packed on a few pounds. The holidays are rapidly approaching and this is no time to diet. Who am I kidding? Diet—is there a good time to diet? It’s time to rev up the old metabolism. So on Wednesday, I strapped on those still-shiny Saucony running shoes and headed for the Y.

            I got a lot of “Gee we haven’t seen you in a while” sort of comments from the folks at the gym. I work out in the middle of the day so almost everyone else there is a retiree. They are a chatty bunch and they seem to like me. I think they think I’m funny—watching a tiny girl lift heavy things makes them laugh. Plus, I find it very motivational to see old people running and lifting weights. I figure, if they can get there I have no excuses. One day I ran into my uncle (great uncle actually) when I was on my way out of the Y. He said, “I come here every day and I’m 87 years old.” I said to him, “You’re 87 years old because you come here everyday.”

            So I picked my favorite treadmill—second one from the right and pressed manual. I set the incline on 0.5 and the speed at 3.5 to warm up. I popped in my ear buds and started walking.

            At 3.0 minutes I started getting bored. Was it time to up the speed? Surely I don’t need to warm up that much. But I kept walking until after Darius Rucker finished his first song.

            At 5.14 minutes I upped the speed and started jogging. “Wow,” I thought to myself. “It’s been a while.”

            At 6.14 minutes I thought, “Maybe I should have walked for longer.”

            At 7.32 minutes I thought, “Damn, my knees hurt. Maybe I should walk for a while.”

            At 9.02 minutes I thought, “Okay, I’m almost to ten minutes. When this song is over I’ll let myself walk.” But the next song was “Sin Wagon” by the Dixie Chicks. I can’t walk during that song—it’s a running song if ever there was one.

            At 15.17 minutes I thought, “Hmm… that wasn’t so bad. Too bad this sports bra was designed by someone who had never been the victim of gravity, aging or a nursing child. I think I can make it through one more song.”

            By minute 18 or so I reached that runners high people talk about. Those endorphins start pumping and you feel really good. The trick is to get there. Before I was a runner, other runners had told me the first mile was the hardest. It got easier after that. I didn’t believe them until I pushed myself beyond a mile. Once you get to that mile, you want to get to another one and another one. Something might hurt—but it doesn’t bother you enough to stop.

            So I ran that day for about 40 minutes. I talked myself into sticking with it, one song at a time. Each moment my body made some excuse for me to stop, but I talked myself into running for one more song until I didn’t want to make excuses anymore. I managed to run a little over three miles. It wasn’t my best time, but I did it and I felt great.

            A lot of things are like that in life: starting a new job, cleaning the attic, teaching a child to ride a bike, directing a play. It’s always the beginning that is difficult and scary. Once you make some progress and find your rhythm it all comes together. You just need to ignore those aches and pains (whether they are physical, psychological or emotional) and keep on running. You’ll get there.

My fantastic coach and husband with me at my first race. He graciously agreed to run at my beginners pace.