Bliss Point: Leaving Restaurants, Coming Home

Bliss Point: Leaving Restaurants, Coming Home

K. Jacoby

.DEFINITION.
bliss [blis] –noun : 1. supreme happiness; utter joy or contentment
point [point] –noun : 19. a degree or stage(1)
bliss point: a degree of ultimate happiness or satisfaction, specifically related to the taste, enjoyment, and ingestion of food and the company that surrounds it. Also corresponds to one’s ability to eat in moderation and feel good about oneself when finished with a meal.

.FLASHBACK, 2006.
i.
waking sleep: morning
heavy with chocolate waft
mom in the kitchen.

ii.
white coating outside
the world is blissfully still.
I have tests to grade.

iii.
afternoon, one stack
to go: chili simmering
shovels scrape the ground.

iv.
finally: dinner.
spicy warmth and a movie.
finally: brownies.

v.
collection of time
memories overlapping
bliss point: mom’s kitchen.

.CONFESSION.
dear self,
remember when you fueled yourself with mom’s cooking? and both nanas’ on the weekends? remember how restaurants were a treat, not a habit? remember how you were healthy, normal (whatever that means today), safe? remember how you didn’t whisper “these pants are a little tight… wow, you’ve really packed on some weight, huh?” and how you didn’t feel that startling bolt of self-hatred in the morning? do you remember?
because i don’t.
maybe it was just too long ago.
help me remember.

.MISSING PIECES.
Two grandmothers. Two kitchens.
My loving stomach, my eager mouth.
Any season, mostly Sundays, until I turned 20: the slow delight of comfort food.
Chicken potpie. Meatloaf. Mashed potatoes. Roast beef with carrots that melt in your mouth. Three vegetables served with dinner. Pork and sauerkraut, an acquired taste. Marinated turkey tenderloin fresh off the grill. Chicken and asparagus casserole. Macaroni and cheese: a specialty of both grandmothers, neither the same, both undeniably coercing you into seconds, sometimes thirds.
Do not forget about dessert.
Pies: any. Apple, cherry, strawberry, blueberry, ice cream. Chocolate pudding, still warm. Raspberry truffle cake. Sticky buns. Handmade doughnuts. Blueberry buckle. That simple but delicious moist chocolate sheet cake with perfectly sweet vanilla butter cream icing. Warm pears topped with melting vanilla ice cream and Hershey’s chocolate syrup.
Home Cooking Bliss Point: the only alternative to restaurants. Portion control, check. Family connection, check. Self-satisfaction.

.TRUTH.
I crave home cooking; it was the base of my life until I finished student teaching and moved out of my parents’ house, into a home of my own.
By then, both grandmothers had stalled on their creation of elaborate family dinners.

.FACT.
I missed valuable kitchen-time with both of my grandmothers; I never learned the lessons I’d need in order to uphold their cooking. I appreciate every twirl of their spoons, every flip of their spatulas. They were the reason my parents supported home cooking, not restaurants.
But let’s be real: the grandmotherly comfort-cooking gene was not passed down to me. My kitchen-style is something I’d have to conjure up on my own… if I ever manage to tear myself away from my mom’s stellar cooking, that is.

.MISSING PIECE.
One mother, one kitchen.
One daughter, twenty-three-ish years at home.
An endless variety of Bliss Point, Mom-style.
Asparagus, six different ways. Garlic roasted broccoli and carrots. Cuban sandwiches. Spaghetti with homemade sauce and filet mignon meatballs. Chili, at least four different styles. Shepherd’s pie for winter nights. Mid-summer potato salad. Steak and bacon tornados. Braciole. Mushroom tarts. French toast and bacon for a lazy Saturday morning. Roast chicken, a Sunday special, with garlic mashed potatoes. Garden fresh mozzarella, basil, and tomato salad. Beef stew. Pasta fagioli. Tacos, of course the tacos. Her macaroni and cheese, a seamless blend of both grandmothers’ recipes.
And then: tiramisu. Blueberry pie. “A really good chocolate cake with fluffy icing,” so she says, “homemade, of course.” Pineapple upside down cake. Hot butterscotch pudding with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Angel food cake, pound cake. Lemon squares. Chocolate ganache and crème de menthe brownies.
Salivate, gawk, indulge. Appreciate.

.CHANGE, 2007.
STUDENT DEPARTS HOME AFTER OVERSTAYING HER WELCOME. QUESTIONABLY SURVIVES FIRST YEAR OF TEACHING TENTH GRADE ENGLISH. ENDURES SEVERAL SUBPAR RELATIONSHIPS. FAILS AT COOKING FOR HERSELF. FALLS IN LOVE, THE REAL THING. JUGGLES TEACHING FULL-TIME WITH GRAD SCHOOL & RELATIONSHIP. DOES NOT CULTIVATE COOKING SKILLS. HELLO, RESTAURANTS & MANUFACTURED BLISS POINT. HELLO, ENLARGING BUTTOCKS. HELLO, PANIC.

.EXCHANGE.
“Oh… oh my god. I AM SO FAT I CANNOT STAND MYSELF.”
“Shut up, you are not. You’re beautiful.”
“You’re blind. LOOK AT MY THIGHS. No, don’t, you’ll be scarred.”
“You are not fat. You work out every day after school.”
“Yes, and my ass just keeps getting bigger and bigger. Ughhh my stomach hurts.”
“Probably the cheese from your quesadilla…”
“Uh, no. I’m not lactose intolerant.”
“Then why does your stomach always hurt?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I FILL IT WITH SHITTY FOOD?”
“Or you’re lactose intolerant.”
“…whatever. I need a carrot.”

.IRRESISTIBLE.

Mexican. It has always been Mexican: my carnal food weakness. It’s likely the cheese… yes, those sultry, melted loops that string through the meat and tomatoes, soften the crunch of the salty shell against my teeth. Oh yeah, definitely the cheese.

But homemade Mexican just doesn’t cut it the way that restaurant Mexican does. While living in Orlando years ago, I found a tiny piece of Mexican-heaven: Tijuana Flats.

Pick your poison! The hot sauce bar at Tijuana Flats

 

There is no happier, tastier place than Tijuana Flats, and I have no doubt that it is responsible for the handful of pounds I gained while living in Florida. College called, though, and I soon had to leave my Tijuana behind. I mourned the loss of those delectable chimichangas and fresh house-made salsa, never mind the tantalizing hot sauce bar and delicious burritos. It was a sad, Mexican-lacking time for me until I stumbled over to Morton Street in Bethlehem and wandered into a new tiny slice of Mexican-heaven:
Tulum (also here). An avid burrito-lover cannot go wrong with anything ordered off of the chalkboard menu, but the guacamole & chips plus a veggie Mayan burrito may be the ultimate Mexican Food Bliss Point.

.PANIC! AT THE RESTAURANT.
While there is no shortage of smoking guns when investigators look at the rise in weight problems in this country, one key culprit is that we’re preparing fewer and fewer of our own meals.
One recent study found that people who reported frequently eating breakfast or dinner at restaurants approximately doubled their risk of being obese.
To maximize sales, the restaurant trade has zeroed in on the flavor and texture sensations humans crave: creamy, crispy, salty, sweet. Many eateries have cranked up the levels of fats, sugars, and sodium in everything they serve, while mega-sizing portions. Wash it all down with millions of servings of soft drinks, and you have a recipe for an obesity epidemic. (2)

.SUGGESTION.
K: By the way. Seriously on a (EXPLETIVE) diet now.
J: Me too. I want to get to a normal routine starting Monday. We will cook. No
eating out.
K: Please. I’m tired. Going to bed. I need your help with eating better.
J: Ok. We will do it.
J: Do you know if we’re eating at your mom’s tomorrow?
K: Please. Seriously. Don’t know about dinner tomorrow. Just no more restaurants.

.TEMPTATION.
I knew I’d never be able to give up Tulum in my quest to eat better, but I at least had to cut back on my visits. I didn’t want Tulum to slap an extra, unnecessary five pounds onto me just as Tijuana Flats had.
Of course, right in the midst of my eager plight to cook more and be cooked for less, my friend Kim came home for a visit from England.
Enter: KIM’S EVIL TEMPTATION via Twitter
@Kristin awww loved your message on fb…sorry I missed chatting…one ? though…can we have tulum ON THE WAY to tijuana flats?
10:05 PM Jul 5th via web in reply to Kristin
>> Oh, Kim. My Mexican-loving stomach and ever-expanding ass will never forgive you.

.WAIT A MINUTE.

Click image to enlarge -- then read!

 

Guilt free! GUILT FREE!

.HERE’S THE THING.
I know restaurants are not the way to fuel my body. This is nothing new to me, or likely to anyone else. One spin through the Food & Cooking section at Borders will hand you a selection of diet books that all say the same thing, just to different tunes: eat in more, out less. It’s strange that I should even have this problem, considering my Home Cooking Bliss Point history with my family’s cooking. However, my reliability on restaurants is not a unique problem: “If you’re like most people, you find yourself eating out at restaurants a lot: You get tired of cooking at home all the time, or you have work dinners.” But wait! There’s hope: “Fortunately, eating out doesn’t have to mean pigging out, as long as you know how to make good choices.” Those good choices are not so simple, especially when realizing that a basic plate of spaghetti and meatballs with meat sauce can cost an eater up to 2,430 calories. (3)And by the way, that plate doesn’t include the salad with fattening dressing, and it definitely does not include that tempting basket of hot, buttery garlic bread that is nearly impossible to ignore.
Instead of happily thoughtlessly inhaling upwards of 2,500 calories at that dangerous Italian restaurant, I could do this, by myself or with J, in the comfort of one of our homes, and the irreplaceable ability to serve only the amount of food our body truly needs:

Pasta Primavera for the Kitchen-Inept
•    You need: pasta (whole wheat is healthier), a variety of sliced vegetables that taste good when cooked, some seasonings (oregano, salt, pepper, you know, basic stuff that’ll give your meal a little kick of flavor), EVOO (consult Rachael Ray), garlic, basil.
•    You’ll need to: Preheat your oven to 450. Cover a baking sheet with aluminum foil.
•    Then: make your pasta. Keep it al dente if you’re fancy like I am.
•    Next: Toss your veggies with 2 tablespoons of EVOO, salt, pepper, and seasonings. Spread ‘em out on the baking sheet, then put ‘em in the oven for about 15 minutes.
•    The fancy part: Coat a skillet with olive oil, just enough to make your garlic sizzle and tenderize. Then add the cooked pasta and the basil until it’s heated through.
•    Let’s eat: toss your pasta concoction into a large bowl and add the roasted veggies. Stir it up, throw on some grated Parmesan cheese if you feel like it. Then, dig in – but make sure to eat just one serving, and don’t go back for more.

.AND ANOTHER THING.
[Food Politics]
What is the cause of the modern obesity epidemic?
: The modern obesity epidemic derives from both an increase in average caloric intake and a decrease in average muscular exertion.
In the United States between 1970 and 2003, average daily caloric intake increased 23 percent to a level of 2,757 calories, roughly 20 percent more than the World Health Organization recommends.
It is not unusual for an individual meal at a fast-food restaurant to contain more than 1,000 calories.
Is the food industry to blame for the way we eat?
: Yes, to some extent. The modern food industry does more than simply process, package, and deliver foods to consumers. It designs foods, often manipulating the ingredients, including the sugar, fat, and salt content, to make them more difficult for consumers to resist. … food companies are in part to blame for our overeating because they design foods for irresistibility, delivering tastes and textures that hit an intentionally addictive “bliss point.” (4)

…horrifying. If I wasn’t already set on divorcing restaurants, this certainly helped push me closer to my own, new, personally tailored Bliss Point.

.ATTEMPT.
J: Any chance you can at some point send me the recipe? Just need the ingredients so I can count [points for] Weight Watchers
I sent her the recipe. Even bought all the ingredients and arrived at her house, bearing them with a joyous smile.
But it was really, wickedly hot that night. Too hot to grill, and too hot to cook in an un-air-conditioned kitchen.
And so we sought out air conditioning and food we didn’t have to prepare. I opted for the house-made veggie burger instead of red meat.  The fresh, healthy ingredients sat over night, ready to be sliced, grilled, and inhaled the following night.

.EXCUSES.
Top 10 Reasons Why I Don’t Want To Cook Tonight
10. I’m tired. No, really tired. I spent six or so hours with hormone-riddled freshmen who don’t care about writing a complete sentence and then I had to go to a faculty meeting. Oh, and then the gym. I AM TIRED.
9. I’m not a good cook. Honestly, I can barely manage to not burn a chicken breast while making sure it cooks all the way through. Sometimes I even burn it, and it’s still a little raw in the center. See, not a good cook.
8. All I have in the freezer is a package of ground beef that’s almost a year old, and the fridge? Well, there are some carrots…
7. … yes, I could get off my ass and go to the grocery store, but didn’t you hear me when I said that I AM TIRED?
6. I have no idea what to make. With my limited skills, the options are also limited, so if you want to eat grilled cheese sandwiches for the third night in a row, fine, I’ll cook. But I won’t be happy about it.
5. It’s too hot. Yes, I know my house is air conditioned, but there’s no vent in the kitchen and the oven and the stove are, you know… hot. And I am not grilling in 90 degree weather, no way, nope, not happening.
4. I’m not hungry. No, I’m not lying. Yes, I ate lunch, and I had a snack when I got home from the gym. Yes, I’m sure; I’m not hungry.
3. I don’t have time! I have a stack of essays to grade, lessons to plan, plus a bunch of reading for my grad class. Oh, and a paper that’s due in a week. NO TIME FOR COOKING.
2. In all honesty, I just don’t feel like it. Can’t that be reason enough?
1. …besides, don’t you want to cook?

.INTERNALIZATION.
Stomach: Hmm… still a little unsteady from last night. Maybe we’ll–
Mouth: LOOK OUT BELOW!
Stomach: I… I don’t think I can handle this! What… what is it?!
Mouth: What do you care! It’s delicious! Food! Awesome!
Stomach: But I’m not hungry!
Mouth: Shut up! You’ve been empty since, like, noon!
Intestines: Uh, yeah, but we’re still a little… full down here.
Stomach: PANIC! PANIC!
Head: Ugh… there’s that clenching again. Oh, shooting pains, too.
Stomach: CANNOT. HANDLE. MORE. PROCESSED. FOOD.
Intestines: This is NOT lookin’ good!
Throat: Ouch! Hey! Keep it down!
Stomach: REFUSE. SHUTTING DOWN.

.PROFESSIONAL OPINION.
Constant stomach pain. Unfortunate side effects. Irritated mood. Lots, and lots, of stabbing pain. Doctor’s visit. Inconclusive. Blood work, the whole gamut. Result: Nothing is wrong.

.BUT.
Common sense rears its head. I was brought up on largely unprocessed, “whole” foods that were cooked with the loving care of my family. I suffered no health problems (and no self-image problems) during the years that I benefited from those meals.
It just doesn’t take a genius to realize that my reliance on other people mass-cooking processed food for me, and thousands of other people, had to be the root of my stomach’s rebellion. The calories were one problem; the pain was something entirely different.
And I was—finally—sick of it.

.SUCCESS.
Courtesy of Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, J and I succeeded in creating a meal together. It wasn’t impossible to create; turns out that chopping vegetables is actually a rather Zen experience. From the first slice of vegetable flesh to the final teasing waft from the oven, creating this dish sold me on the idea that we do not taste first with our eyes, but rather with our nose. (5) With the hands-on element plus the array of salivating scents, the Bliss Point factor ramps up with the satisfaction of working through the meal from beginning to fork-in-mouth end. Cooking together, sitting down together in J’s home: that is a Bliss Point I want to come back to again and again. I may not ever master my grandmothers’ or my mom’s masterful kitchen artistry, but the successful execution of this simple (and healthy) recipe taught me one simple thing: I don’t need the restaurants. I just need the time, the will, and the desire to do right by my body.
I present: Grilled Vegetable Panini. (Please note my Cheese Obsession continues, what with the tantalizing melt of mozzarella.) Home Cooking Bliss Point, Success.

 

 

 

 

 

 

__________________

1 : www.dictionary.com
2 : Harvey-Berino, Jean. The Eating Well Diet: 7 Steps to a Healthy, Trimmer You.  Charlotte, VT: Eating Well, Inc., 2008. 94-95. Print.
3 : Warner, Jackie. This is Why You’re Fat (And How to Get Thin Forever). New York: Hachette Book Group, 2010. 102-104. Print.
4 : Paarlberg, Robert. Food Politics: What Everyone Needs to Know. New York: Oxford UP, 2010. 84-88. Print.
5 : Wansink, Brian.  Mindless Eating: Why We Eat More Than We Think. New York: Bantam Dell, 2007. 110-111. Print.