Often we complain about the skin or skin on the face of our bodies that look dull or old fast, which can be caused by the sun and lack of substance in our bodies. Below are some suggestions that can help you overcome the old problem skin quickly.
1. White drinking water at least 8 glasses a day
2. Eating a nutritious balanced food
3. Take advantage of cosmetics that contain antioxidants in oral antioksida clan.
Cosmetic / cream that can be used:
1. Night cream to rejuvenate skin
2. Bleach cream face,
3. Sunblock
Happy trying!
Kamis, 02 April 2009
Veggie Might: Tofu Veggie Scramble - Heaven Can Wait…but Breakfast Can’t
Penned by the effervescent Leigh, Veggie Might is a weekly Thursday column about the wide world of Vegetarianism.
Like many body-conscious teenagers/young adults, I went through a breakfast avoidance phase. I found Diet Coke (followed briefly by Diet Coke and cigarettes) to be sufficient sustenance to get me through until midday.
But the whole time, I was denying my better nature, not to mention my health. Deep down laid the truth: I want, need, and full-on love breakfast. Three out of three is pretty dang good, right Meatloaf?
Once I embraced breakfast I had more energy, was less grouchy, and to my surprise, I did not gain a jillion pounds. I’m not sure what I thought people ate for their morning meals. But unless you’re breaking fast at Waffle House every day, it’s easily a low-cal affair.
Now I have my little morning ritual, which on workdays involves a bowl of high-fiber cereal with soymilk, a cup of tea, and Pat Kiernan reading me the New York dailies through my television. (That’s right, non New Yorkers, a TV anchorman reads the newspaper headlines on air. It’s a brilliant bit of television. And Pat Kiernan is the perfect Canadian for the job.)
Weekends are another story. Pat is (presumably) home with his family, and I have time to cook. After feeding the dog and brewing a pot of tea, I take a looksee in the fridge. (I like to make myself something savory. Sweets are not my thing.)
This weekend the contents of my fridge told me to whip up a tofu scramble, inspired by the vegan classic found at the Post Punk Kitchen, with grits on the side. You can add whatever veggies you have on hand. I had broccoli and mushrooms; plus I threw in some celery.
The spice mixture in this recipe is largely about color. Turmeric makes the tofu yellow like scrambled eggs, but also a tad bitter. I cut the amount in half. The other spices, cumin, thyme, paprika, are pretty sassy, so I left well enough alone.
The zippy flavor comes from the nutritional yeast, those flakes of vitamin B-rich, umami wonder that vegheads can’t get enough of. I was a little late to the “nooch” party, but I’m starting to catch on. Nooch and veggies make this bowl of tofu a fiesta.
The tofu scramble delighted my weekend, and there was enough left over to start the week. It was so tasty, in fact, that I barely noticed when Pat lingered over Gisele on Monday’s New York Post cover.
Breakfast, for crying out loud, you know I love you.
Tofu Veggie Scramble
Adapted from Post-Punk Kitchen
Serves 4
14 oz extra firm tofu, drained and pressed
1 tablespoon canola oil
1/2 large chopped yellow onion (about a cup)
2 ribs celery, thinly sliced
2 cups white button mushrooms, thinly sliced
2 cups broccoli, chopped
2-3 cloves garlic, minced
1/4 cup nutritional yeast
juice of 1/2 a lime
2 teaspoons cumin
1 teaspoon thyme, crushed with your fingers
2 teaspoon paprika
1/4 teaspoon turmeric
1 teaspoon salt
1) In a large skillet, sauté onion over medium heat in oil until soft.
2) Add mushrooms and sauté for another five minutes or so.
3) Then add the garlic and celery. Sauté for another 2 minutes
4) Toss in the spices and stir for a few seconds.
5) Add 1/4 cup water to deglaze the pan. Scrap all the good stuff off the bottom.
6) Break tofu into large chunks and stir in. It will continue to crumble as you stir.
7) Mix in broccoli.
8) Cook for about 15 minutes stirring occasionally. Add a couple tablespoons of water here and there if it starts to stick. Lower the heat if you find it’s sticking too much.
9) Add lime juice and nutritional yeast. Give it a good stir.
10) Serve with grits and toast. Savor on a lazy Sunday.
Approximate Calories, Fat, and Price per Serving
139.21 calories, 6.5g fat, $1.17
Calculations
14 oz extra firm tofu: 238 calories, 12g fat, $1.50
1 tablespoon canola oil: 120 calories, 14g fat, $0.08
1/2 large chopped yellow onion: 40 calories, .2g fat, $.50
2-3 cloves garlic: 12.6 calories, 0g fat, $.04
2 ribs celery: 12 calories, 0g fat, $.15
2 cups white button mushrooms: 30 calories, 0g fat, $1.00
2 cups broccoli: 40 calories, 0g fat, $.75
1/4 cup nutritional yeast: 60 calories, 0g fat, $.54
juice of 1/2 a lime: 4.25 calories, 0g fat, $0.5
2 teaspoons cumin: negligible calories and fat, $.02
1 teaspoon thyme: negligible calories and fat, $.02
2 teaspoon paprika: negligible calories and fat, $.02
1/4 teaspoon turmeric: negligible calories and fat, $.02
1 teaspoon salt: negligible calories and fat, $.02
TOTAL: 556.85 calories, 26g fat, $4.66
PER SERVING (TOTAL/4): 139.21 calories, 6.5g fat, $1.17
Like many body-conscious teenagers/young adults, I went through a breakfast avoidance phase. I found Diet Coke (followed briefly by Diet Coke and cigarettes) to be sufficient sustenance to get me through until midday.
But the whole time, I was denying my better nature, not to mention my health. Deep down laid the truth: I want, need, and full-on love breakfast. Three out of three is pretty dang good, right Meatloaf?
Once I embraced breakfast I had more energy, was less grouchy, and to my surprise, I did not gain a jillion pounds. I’m not sure what I thought people ate for their morning meals. But unless you’re breaking fast at Waffle House every day, it’s easily a low-cal affair.
Now I have my little morning ritual, which on workdays involves a bowl of high-fiber cereal with soymilk, a cup of tea, and Pat Kiernan reading me the New York dailies through my television. (That’s right, non New Yorkers, a TV anchorman reads the newspaper headlines on air. It’s a brilliant bit of television. And Pat Kiernan is the perfect Canadian for the job.)
Weekends are another story. Pat is (presumably) home with his family, and I have time to cook. After feeding the dog and brewing a pot of tea, I take a looksee in the fridge. (I like to make myself something savory. Sweets are not my thing.)
This weekend the contents of my fridge told me to whip up a tofu scramble, inspired by the vegan classic found at the Post Punk Kitchen, with grits on the side. You can add whatever veggies you have on hand. I had broccoli and mushrooms; plus I threw in some celery.
The spice mixture in this recipe is largely about color. Turmeric makes the tofu yellow like scrambled eggs, but also a tad bitter. I cut the amount in half. The other spices, cumin, thyme, paprika, are pretty sassy, so I left well enough alone.
The zippy flavor comes from the nutritional yeast, those flakes of vitamin B-rich, umami wonder that vegheads can’t get enough of. I was a little late to the “nooch” party, but I’m starting to catch on. Nooch and veggies make this bowl of tofu a fiesta.
The tofu scramble delighted my weekend, and there was enough left over to start the week. It was so tasty, in fact, that I barely noticed when Pat lingered over Gisele on Monday’s New York Post cover.
Breakfast, for crying out loud, you know I love you.
Tofu Veggie Scramble
Adapted from Post-Punk Kitchen
Serves 4
14 oz extra firm tofu, drained and pressed1 tablespoon canola oil
1/2 large chopped yellow onion (about a cup)
2 ribs celery, thinly sliced
2 cups white button mushrooms, thinly sliced
2 cups broccoli, chopped
2-3 cloves garlic, minced
1/4 cup nutritional yeast
juice of 1/2 a lime
2 teaspoons cumin
1 teaspoon thyme, crushed with your fingers
2 teaspoon paprika
1/4 teaspoon turmeric
1 teaspoon salt
1) In a large skillet, sauté onion over medium heat in oil until soft.
2) Add mushrooms and sauté for another five minutes or so.
3) Then add the garlic and celery. Sauté for another 2 minutes
4) Toss in the spices and stir for a few seconds.
5) Add 1/4 cup water to deglaze the pan. Scrap all the good stuff off the bottom.
6) Break tofu into large chunks and stir in. It will continue to crumble as you stir.
7) Mix in broccoli.
8) Cook for about 15 minutes stirring occasionally. Add a couple tablespoons of water here and there if it starts to stick. Lower the heat if you find it’s sticking too much.
9) Add lime juice and nutritional yeast. Give it a good stir.
10) Serve with grits and toast. Savor on a lazy Sunday.
Approximate Calories, Fat, and Price per Serving
139.21 calories, 6.5g fat, $1.17
Calculations
14 oz extra firm tofu: 238 calories, 12g fat, $1.50
1 tablespoon canola oil: 120 calories, 14g fat, $0.08
1/2 large chopped yellow onion: 40 calories, .2g fat, $.50
2-3 cloves garlic: 12.6 calories, 0g fat, $.04
2 ribs celery: 12 calories, 0g fat, $.15
2 cups white button mushrooms: 30 calories, 0g fat, $1.00
2 cups broccoli: 40 calories, 0g fat, $.75
1/4 cup nutritional yeast: 60 calories, 0g fat, $.54
juice of 1/2 a lime: 4.25 calories, 0g fat, $0.5
2 teaspoons cumin: negligible calories and fat, $.02
1 teaspoon thyme: negligible calories and fat, $.02
2 teaspoon paprika: negligible calories and fat, $.02
1/4 teaspoon turmeric: negligible calories and fat, $.02
1 teaspoon salt: negligible calories and fat, $.02
TOTAL: 556.85 calories, 26g fat, $4.66
PER SERVING (TOTAL/4): 139.21 calories, 6.5g fat, $1.17
Rabu, 01 April 2009
Learning to Love Foods You Hate: A How-to Guide for Frugal Eaters
(Hi there, Chicago Sun-Times readers! We're super-happy to have you, and encourage y'all to take a look around. The About, Recipes, and Articles buttons in the bar are probably the best places to start.)
Up until a few years ago, the list of foods I loathed was a long one. It included, but wasn’t limited to: spaghetti squash, broccoli, asparagus, red cabbage, ginger ale, cauliflower, radishes, lentils, beans, Brussels sprouts, fennel, eggplant, anise, scallops, figs, and of course, the dreaded mayonnaise. The list goes on (and on), but you get the idea: growing up, I wasn’t exactly a daring eater.
I still hate mayo. I will ALWAYS hate mayo. George Clooney could serve me mayo wrapped in chocolate bacon on a gold-plated re-issue of Who’s Next, and I would throw it back in his face. But my opinion’s changed on most of those other foods. These days, I’ll gladly scarf a floret of cauliflower. Brussels sprouts hold a special place on my dinner table. And eggplant? Well, eggplant is my favorite thing ever, aside from the panda song from Sifl and Olly. (In fact, you could say I’m drunk on eggplant mystery.)
Granted, part of it is just me aging. At 31-years-old, my palate’s matured a little, and my tastes now lean more toward savory than sweet. The other part, though, can be directly attributed to recent changes in my lifestyle.
See, a few years ago, I resolved to learn to cook, to eat healthier, and to better manage my money. As it turned out, vegetables and legumes were vital to making this work, since they’re exponentially cheaper than meat and much more nutritious than most starches. So, I had to confront my fears. I had to expand my produce repertoire beyond corn, carrots, corn, and carrots.
These strategies helped. I learned to tolerate, and even love, a lot of foods I had longstanding issues with. Try ‘em for yourself, and please add your own suggestions to the comment section.
Make it unrecognizable.
Case study: Eggplant
Seedy, mushy, and horrifically purple, eggplant appealed to me about as much as a drug-free colonoscopy. Then, in 1997, my friend H hid it in her homemade tomato sauce. And … revelation. Soon, I was on to eggplant dips, eggplant pastas, and finally, plain ol’ broiled eggplant. The trick was getting the image of the vegetable out of my head, and forcing me to associate it with otherwise good food. I suspect it would work beautifully with any vegetable that could be pureed or furtively included in a sauce (butternut squash, bell peppers, etc.).
Use it in a recipe with foods you love.
Case study: Brussels sprouts
As far as I was concerned, Brussels sprouts were tiny, bitter cabbages that masochists ate when they ran out of bigger bitter cabbages. Little did I know that slathering them in Parmesan would provide a delicious gateway into healthier, simpler preparations. See also: Red Cabbage (ew) with Honey (nice), Apples (yay!), and Bacon (king of cured meats). It's actually quite scrumptious.
Try it in an ethnic dish.
Case study: Broccoli
Broccoli: looks like trees, tastes like butt, right? Yeah, I used to think like that, too. But in high school, Ma ordered Chicken and Broccoli from our local Chinese joint, Da How. Suddenly, it was broccoli: looks like trees, tastes like HEAVEN (with garlic and brown sauce). Sometimes, a food is more appealing when its paired with flavors you’re not necessarily accustomed to. Like bean sprouts on top of Pad Thai. Or peas stuffed in a samosa. Or tomatillo sauce spread across an enchilada. Pick a cuisine and start experimenting.
Cook the best-reviewed recipe you can find featuring that food.
Case study: Cauliflower
Most aggregate recipe sites like Epicurious, Food Network, and All Recipes have sophisticated rating systems with which home cooks can evaluate any dish. If you’re feeling ambitious, plug an ingredient into one of their search engines. Then, prep the recipe with the best overall reviews. For example, Ina Garten has a Cauliflower Gratin that’s received an average of five stars from 132 people (which is outstanding). I’ve tried it myself, and without exaggeration, it changed the way I felt about cauliflower. I just … I just didn’t know it could taste that good. Now, stuff like Roasted Garlic Cauliflower and Curried Cauliflower Soup with Honey are making regular appearances in my mouth.
Understand you don’t have to eat it the way your Ma (or Pa) prepared it.
Case study: Spaghetti Squash
Across the country, millions of Irish-Americans loathe vegetables because growing up, produce was boiled beyond recognition and then forced by threat of death into their reluctant maws. But take heart, my freckled brethren! It doesn’t have to be this way. Did you know carrots can be roasted? And broccoli rabe, sauteed? And spaghetti squash, combined with red sauce, mozzarella, and pine nuts to create something COMPLETELY DELICIOUS? It’s true. So, love your Gaelic Ma. Embrace her. Call her often. Just … try to forget her cooking. It’ll make this whole process much easier.
Try a dish with a subtler incarnation of that food.
Case study: Tarragon
This one’s a little difficult to explain, so here’s an example: I despise anise. Even thinking about its black licorice flavor makes my tongue curl. Recently though, I discovered a White Bean and Tarragon Soup that I quite like. Tarragon, like fennel, possesses traits similar to anise, but it’s much, much subtler. In the soup, it was complemented so well by the other ingredients, I didn’t even taste the hate. Maybe I'll feel the same way about anise someday. Think of this principle like salsa: you start out mild, and work your way up to medium and hot varieties.
Give it just one more shot.
Case study: Beans
For some inexplicable reason, I always assumed I hated beans. As a kid, they looked funny to me. And in my six-year-old brain, funny-looking food = bad food. It wasn’t until I grew up, sacked up, ate one and didn’t throw up, that they became a regular part of my diet. (Okay, hummus helped.)
If you truly hate it, let it go.
Case studies: scallops, figs, radishes, mayo
Scallops will never be my thing, no matter how fresh they are, how well they’ve been prepared, and how many times I try them. Figs, radishes, mayonnaise – still disgusting, as well. (Which, did I mention I hate mayonnaise? I did? Oh, good.) Sometimes, a certain food just won’t do it for you. And it’s okay. Just move on to the next one.
And that’s it. Readers? Suggestions?
~~~
If you like this article, you might also dig
Up until a few years ago, the list of foods I loathed was a long one. It included, but wasn’t limited to: spaghetti squash, broccoli, asparagus, red cabbage, ginger ale, cauliflower, radishes, lentils, beans, Brussels sprouts, fennel, eggplant, anise, scallops, figs, and of course, the dreaded mayonnaise. The list goes on (and on), but you get the idea: growing up, I wasn’t exactly a daring eater.
I still hate mayo. I will ALWAYS hate mayo. George Clooney could serve me mayo wrapped in chocolate bacon on a gold-plated re-issue of Who’s Next, and I would throw it back in his face. But my opinion’s changed on most of those other foods. These days, I’ll gladly scarf a floret of cauliflower. Brussels sprouts hold a special place on my dinner table. And eggplant? Well, eggplant is my favorite thing ever, aside from the panda song from Sifl and Olly. (In fact, you could say I’m drunk on eggplant mystery.)Granted, part of it is just me aging. At 31-years-old, my palate’s matured a little, and my tastes now lean more toward savory than sweet. The other part, though, can be directly attributed to recent changes in my lifestyle.
See, a few years ago, I resolved to learn to cook, to eat healthier, and to better manage my money. As it turned out, vegetables and legumes were vital to making this work, since they’re exponentially cheaper than meat and much more nutritious than most starches. So, I had to confront my fears. I had to expand my produce repertoire beyond corn, carrots, corn, and carrots.
These strategies helped. I learned to tolerate, and even love, a lot of foods I had longstanding issues with. Try ‘em for yourself, and please add your own suggestions to the comment section.
Make it unrecognizable.
Case study: Eggplant
Seedy, mushy, and horrifically purple, eggplant appealed to me about as much as a drug-free colonoscopy. Then, in 1997, my friend H hid it in her homemade tomato sauce. And … revelation. Soon, I was on to eggplant dips, eggplant pastas, and finally, plain ol’ broiled eggplant. The trick was getting the image of the vegetable out of my head, and forcing me to associate it with otherwise good food. I suspect it would work beautifully with any vegetable that could be pureed or furtively included in a sauce (butternut squash, bell peppers, etc.).
Use it in a recipe with foods you love.
Case study: Brussels sprouts
As far as I was concerned, Brussels sprouts were tiny, bitter cabbages that masochists ate when they ran out of bigger bitter cabbages. Little did I know that slathering them in Parmesan would provide a delicious gateway into healthier, simpler preparations. See also: Red Cabbage (ew) with Honey (nice), Apples (yay!), and Bacon (king of cured meats). It's actually quite scrumptious.
Try it in an ethnic dish.Case study: Broccoli
Broccoli: looks like trees, tastes like butt, right? Yeah, I used to think like that, too. But in high school, Ma ordered Chicken and Broccoli from our local Chinese joint, Da How. Suddenly, it was broccoli: looks like trees, tastes like HEAVEN (with garlic and brown sauce). Sometimes, a food is more appealing when its paired with flavors you’re not necessarily accustomed to. Like bean sprouts on top of Pad Thai. Or peas stuffed in a samosa. Or tomatillo sauce spread across an enchilada. Pick a cuisine and start experimenting.
Cook the best-reviewed recipe you can find featuring that food.
Case study: Cauliflower
Most aggregate recipe sites like Epicurious, Food Network, and All Recipes have sophisticated rating systems with which home cooks can evaluate any dish. If you’re feeling ambitious, plug an ingredient into one of their search engines. Then, prep the recipe with the best overall reviews. For example, Ina Garten has a Cauliflower Gratin that’s received an average of five stars from 132 people (which is outstanding). I’ve tried it myself, and without exaggeration, it changed the way I felt about cauliflower. I just … I just didn’t know it could taste that good. Now, stuff like Roasted Garlic Cauliflower and Curried Cauliflower Soup with Honey are making regular appearances in my mouth.
Understand you don’t have to eat it the way your Ma (or Pa) prepared it.
Case study: Spaghetti Squash
Across the country, millions of Irish-Americans loathe vegetables because growing up, produce was boiled beyond recognition and then forced by threat of death into their reluctant maws. But take heart, my freckled brethren! It doesn’t have to be this way. Did you know carrots can be roasted? And broccoli rabe, sauteed? And spaghetti squash, combined with red sauce, mozzarella, and pine nuts to create something COMPLETELY DELICIOUS? It’s true. So, love your Gaelic Ma. Embrace her. Call her often. Just … try to forget her cooking. It’ll make this whole process much easier.
Try a dish with a subtler incarnation of that food.
Case study: Tarragon
This one’s a little difficult to explain, so here’s an example: I despise anise. Even thinking about its black licorice flavor makes my tongue curl. Recently though, I discovered a White Bean and Tarragon Soup that I quite like. Tarragon, like fennel, possesses traits similar to anise, but it’s much, much subtler. In the soup, it was complemented so well by the other ingredients, I didn’t even taste the hate. Maybe I'll feel the same way about anise someday. Think of this principle like salsa: you start out mild, and work your way up to medium and hot varieties.
Give it just one more shot.Case study: Beans
For some inexplicable reason, I always assumed I hated beans. As a kid, they looked funny to me. And in my six-year-old brain, funny-looking food = bad food. It wasn’t until I grew up, sacked up, ate one and didn’t throw up, that they became a regular part of my diet. (Okay, hummus helped.)
If you truly hate it, let it go.
Case studies: scallops, figs, radishes, mayo
Scallops will never be my thing, no matter how fresh they are, how well they’ve been prepared, and how many times I try them. Figs, radishes, mayonnaise – still disgusting, as well. (Which, did I mention I hate mayonnaise? I did? Oh, good.) Sometimes, a certain food just won’t do it for you. And it’s okay. Just move on to the next one.
And that’s it. Readers? Suggestions?
~~~
If you like this article, you might also dig
- Picky, Picky: Frugal, Healthy Menu Ideas for a Fussy Crowd
- 10 Foods You Should Always Splurge On
- Touch of Class: 10 Thrifty, Healthy Ingredients to Improve the Quality of Your Meals
City Kitchen Chronicles: Beyond Thunderdome
City Kitchen Chronicles is a bi-weekly column about living frugally in Manhattan. It's penned by the lovely Jaime.
"With the economy in a dark, dark place, we thought it was pretty obvious where society is headed. So TBTL introduced The Thunderdome Beach Diet. Can you eat for $3 a day?”
That was the call to arms, or at least, the announcement, posted on the website of TBTL, one of my favorite podcasts. TBTL, or Too Beautiful To Live, is a radio show from Seattle. It’s funny, smart, random – sort of like a really fantastic blog, but in radio format – and in the last year I’ve come to have a lot of affection for it and its hosts.
And, for a little more background: Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome is the third movie in the Mad Max series (I had no idea there was more than one), about Mel Gibson … um, doing stuff … in post-apocalyptic … somewhere. Australia, maybe? I have never seen these movies.
Anyway, the point is, Thunderdome = a scarily near-future world where society’s fallen apart and things are a little more primal, a lot more dangerous, and, ha, isn’t that where things seem to be going with our economic crisis.
This sort of pop-culture-referencing, topical-yet-not-too-serious sensibility is part of what I love about TBTL. Their Preparing for Thunderdome series sounds like a fun way to acknowledge the economic crisis but have an excuse for adding some silly stuff to the show. (see: Week Two, Fighting in Thunderdome.)
But when I heard about the planned Thunderdome Beach Diet, I was … cautious. The plan: for four days, eat on $3/day. (This includes booze, a true test for my beloved TBTL hosts – they ended up just going sober.) It’s not the first eat-on-very-little project I’ve encountered – there’s the One Dollar Diet Project, 30 Bucks a Week, even Oregon Governor Ted Kulongoski. But I was mostly concerned because of how many people (hi, this is me) eat on a limited budget daily. Not as a project. Not as a whoa, this is crazy, can’t wait till it’s over and we get to go back to normal sort of thing.
Because I’m one of those people, the people who think about how much we’re spending on food all the time. Sometimes I splurge, but my bank account feels it. It’s never carefree, never just oh, whatever I want. It’s: well, if I buy this, then I can’t see a movie this weekend, or I have some soup in my freezer, so I guess I can go out for a drink. I didn’t want this project, and the way TBTL handled it, to be about emphasizing the distance between their lives and mine, and I was sure I couldn’t be the only listener feeling that.
I was also hearing a lot of talk about ramen, and if I’ve learned one thing from reading, and then writing for, this website, it’s that you can eat really cheaply and still get vegetables and protein and whole foods and general healthiness. Unless you’re in college, talking about ramen means this isn’t a real way to eat.
And so last week, the hosts of TBTL went on The Thunderdome Beach Diet, living on $12 for four days. Three people are on the show – host Luke, producer Jen, and engineer Sean. And each took a different approach.
Sean bought milk and cereal, and ingredients for a giant egg, cheese, and rice casserole that he ate for the week. Luke bought eggs, tortillas, beans, jalapenos, a bag of salad greens, and some cheap chicken thighs that turned out to be mostly bone. And Jen… well, Jen had surprise dental surgery in the middle of the week, but I think her plan was a lot of rice, eggs, and canned green beans.
Hearing those menus, first of all, made me seriously appreciate how much I’ve learned in the year or two I’ve made eating cheaply a priority. (Well, I’ve made paying off my damn credit cards a priority, and in order to do so, I eat cheap. And in order to be healthy-ish, I don’t live on ramen.) Some TBTL listeners did the diet along with the hosts, and the hosts were shocked at what people were eating for $3 a day – tasty sandwiches and hot chocolate and homemade popcorn. But when you know how to cook from scratch, from ingredients, you save so much money. Every time they described a meal of canned beans or milk and cold cereal, I thought of what you can save cooking with dried beans, or how much more filling and healthy a bowl of oatmeal can be (and cheaper, too, I think), or how you can buy flour and make your own tortillas.
But this is knowledge that we’re not born with, that we don’t pick up in school or even necessarily from our parents. Thank goodness for the internet, and its gift of sixty-cents-a-serving lentil soup, and bless the $1.50 bag of frozen spinach.
That was my main takeaway – gratitude and appreciation for the knowledge I’ve gained, the skills and awareness that’ve changed how I look at food – at what I eat, what I buy, the way I spend my time (cooking). But what did the TBTLers learn?
Wrap-up included a lot of “It’s amazing (and shocking) that people live like this all the time.” Luke said something at one point about how it made him realize that having money means not needing to be careful – if the chicken’s gross, he can go out to eat; if the eggs break, he can go buy more. But not in Thunderdome! As much as I can think he’s naïve or sheltered to have never realized that before (and he happens to have grown up without a lot of money), maybe I’m naïve to assume that everyone should have that sort of awareness, or that everyone should already know how to eat cheaply without resorting to ramen or fatiguing repetition.
Sean was pretty happy with his week of casserole, although he readily admitted he couldn’t eat like that forever, but Jen felt a strong emotional drag from her diet. Not to have choice, not to have indulgence, not to get the pleasure she was used to from her favorite wine or tasty cheese and crackers – it really brought her down. I wanted to be able to reach through the radio and say, “It doesn’t have to be that way! There is variety! There are vegetables!” But also: “Dude, I totally understand.”
But, of course, after Friday, the TBTLers went back to their previous ways – their bigger budgets and different concerns. And those of us living on a little less are still eating with what money we have. But The Thunderdome Beach Diet made me realize that what I know, what I know how to do, is, in a weird way, sort of special. Like I have this secret knowledge, the key to unlocking the grocery store or whatever, a magic spell that turns a beans-and-eggs budget into kale and delicious soup and chocolate. (I totally budget for good chocolate.) And as much as it’s most of the time a huge pain in the butt, it’s good to remember that it’s kind of awesome, too.
(Photos courtesy of Spartan Tailgate and Ning.)
That was the call to arms, or at least, the announcement, posted on the website of TBTL, one of my favorite podcasts. TBTL, or Too Beautiful To Live, is a radio show from Seattle. It’s funny, smart, random – sort of like a really fantastic blog, but in radio format – and in the last year I’ve come to have a lot of affection for it and its hosts.
And, for a little more background: Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome is the third movie in the Mad Max series (I had no idea there was more than one), about Mel Gibson … um, doing stuff … in post-apocalyptic … somewhere. Australia, maybe? I have never seen these movies.
Anyway, the point is, Thunderdome = a scarily near-future world where society’s fallen apart and things are a little more primal, a lot more dangerous, and, ha, isn’t that where things seem to be going with our economic crisis.
This sort of pop-culture-referencing, topical-yet-not-too-serious sensibility is part of what I love about TBTL. Their Preparing for Thunderdome series sounds like a fun way to acknowledge the economic crisis but have an excuse for adding some silly stuff to the show. (see: Week Two, Fighting in Thunderdome.)But when I heard about the planned Thunderdome Beach Diet, I was … cautious. The plan: for four days, eat on $3/day. (This includes booze, a true test for my beloved TBTL hosts – they ended up just going sober.) It’s not the first eat-on-very-little project I’ve encountered – there’s the One Dollar Diet Project, 30 Bucks a Week, even Oregon Governor Ted Kulongoski. But I was mostly concerned because of how many people (hi, this is me) eat on a limited budget daily. Not as a project. Not as a whoa, this is crazy, can’t wait till it’s over and we get to go back to normal sort of thing.
Because I’m one of those people, the people who think about how much we’re spending on food all the time. Sometimes I splurge, but my bank account feels it. It’s never carefree, never just oh, whatever I want. It’s: well, if I buy this, then I can’t see a movie this weekend, or I have some soup in my freezer, so I guess I can go out for a drink. I didn’t want this project, and the way TBTL handled it, to be about emphasizing the distance between their lives and mine, and I was sure I couldn’t be the only listener feeling that.
I was also hearing a lot of talk about ramen, and if I’ve learned one thing from reading, and then writing for, this website, it’s that you can eat really cheaply and still get vegetables and protein and whole foods and general healthiness. Unless you’re in college, talking about ramen means this isn’t a real way to eat.
And so last week, the hosts of TBTL went on The Thunderdome Beach Diet, living on $12 for four days. Three people are on the show – host Luke, producer Jen, and engineer Sean. And each took a different approach.
Sean bought milk and cereal, and ingredients for a giant egg, cheese, and rice casserole that he ate for the week. Luke bought eggs, tortillas, beans, jalapenos, a bag of salad greens, and some cheap chicken thighs that turned out to be mostly bone. And Jen… well, Jen had surprise dental surgery in the middle of the week, but I think her plan was a lot of rice, eggs, and canned green beans.
Hearing those menus, first of all, made me seriously appreciate how much I’ve learned in the year or two I’ve made eating cheaply a priority. (Well, I’ve made paying off my damn credit cards a priority, and in order to do so, I eat cheap. And in order to be healthy-ish, I don’t live on ramen.) Some TBTL listeners did the diet along with the hosts, and the hosts were shocked at what people were eating for $3 a day – tasty sandwiches and hot chocolate and homemade popcorn. But when you know how to cook from scratch, from ingredients, you save so much money. Every time they described a meal of canned beans or milk and cold cereal, I thought of what you can save cooking with dried beans, or how much more filling and healthy a bowl of oatmeal can be (and cheaper, too, I think), or how you can buy flour and make your own tortillas.
But this is knowledge that we’re not born with, that we don’t pick up in school or even necessarily from our parents. Thank goodness for the internet, and its gift of sixty-cents-a-serving lentil soup, and bless the $1.50 bag of frozen spinach.That was my main takeaway – gratitude and appreciation for the knowledge I’ve gained, the skills and awareness that’ve changed how I look at food – at what I eat, what I buy, the way I spend my time (cooking). But what did the TBTLers learn?
Wrap-up included a lot of “It’s amazing (and shocking) that people live like this all the time.” Luke said something at one point about how it made him realize that having money means not needing to be careful – if the chicken’s gross, he can go out to eat; if the eggs break, he can go buy more. But not in Thunderdome! As much as I can think he’s naïve or sheltered to have never realized that before (and he happens to have grown up without a lot of money), maybe I’m naïve to assume that everyone should have that sort of awareness, or that everyone should already know how to eat cheaply without resorting to ramen or fatiguing repetition.
Sean was pretty happy with his week of casserole, although he readily admitted he couldn’t eat like that forever, but Jen felt a strong emotional drag from her diet. Not to have choice, not to have indulgence, not to get the pleasure she was used to from her favorite wine or tasty cheese and crackers – it really brought her down. I wanted to be able to reach through the radio and say, “It doesn’t have to be that way! There is variety! There are vegetables!” But also: “Dude, I totally understand.”
But, of course, after Friday, the TBTLers went back to their previous ways – their bigger budgets and different concerns. And those of us living on a little less are still eating with what money we have. But The Thunderdome Beach Diet made me realize that what I know, what I know how to do, is, in a weird way, sort of special. Like I have this secret knowledge, the key to unlocking the grocery store or whatever, a magic spell that turns a beans-and-eggs budget into kale and delicious soup and chocolate. (I totally budget for good chocolate.) And as much as it’s most of the time a huge pain in the butt, it’s good to remember that it’s kind of awesome, too.
(Photos courtesy of Spartan Tailgate and Ning.)
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