National Eating Disorders Awareness Week: My Journey

A few years ago my cousin introduced me to Post Secret, a movement created by a very compassionate individual by the name of Frank Warren who created an outlet for people to anonymously mail secrets to him. The secrets can be funny, ridiculous, serious, sad, and anything in between. Every Sunday, he posts new secrets that millions of people read. Every Sunday, I am one of those millions of people that do. It’s a way, I think, for people to feel connected with others around the world. Sharing these secrets is a way to let go as well as bringing people together. It’s a relief know that there are others who are going through similar things or thinking the same thoughts.

Last Sunday’s secrets really hit home for me. They revolved around eating disorders. Here are a few examples:

(Probably the one that was the most personal and relevant for me.)

National Eating Disorders Awareness Week brings into light a very personal matter for a lot of people. It doesn’t just affect a certain weight, gender, age, or nationality. It affects a wide ranged of people for different reasons. It mostly is about a sense of control or the desire of being this ideal image or weight, but those aren't the only reasons.

I remember becoming extremely offended when this fight of what ‘real women’ look like started. Suddenly, naturally slender women were subjected to scorn in the media. I have friends of various height and weight combinations, and they are all exceptionally beautiful people. They have shown me that there is no one-size-fits-all aspect of beauty.

One of the things CK told me (and that I love him for) is that there is no such thing as the fairytale relationship. And so, this past weekend, he asked me a very hard question: “So then, why do you demand for the fairytale body?” This applied not only to my appearance, but also my health. It was one of those questions that not only broke down everything I tried to ignore, but once I let it out I couldn’t stop.

I don't refer to having had disordered eating as an eating disorder  because I believe the term 'eating disorder' places blame on the person suffering. Disordered eating is also more inclusive and, in my opinion, something you can rise from and have the power to change. Disordered eating has traveled with me like a codependent ally, needing me to need to control what I ate, when I ate, and how much. When I went to college, I lost a lot of weight. In total, my weight loss journey resulted in over 40 pounds. Most of it was due to changing my eating habits and preferring healthier options and exercising more. But when I became ‘thin’, I was deathly afraid of gaining it back. I’ve had panic attacks in the past because it was so terrifying to me to go back to that time when my body was a prison to the wonderful person underneath.

*Photos are from 1990 - 2012.

The evolution of my disordered eating habits became more about earning and deserving food than not eating. To be fair, I didn’t decide one day to be anorexic my sophomore year in high school. I just felt I didn’t have time to eat in the mornings and simply wasn’t hungry for lunch (and believe me, the food options in the cafeteria were not appetizing). So I would go almost twenty hours without eating, snack when I got home and then eat dinner. I drank hot tea in the mornings with lemon and sugar, but that was it. By the end of the first quarter, I was under 140 pounds, a first since I started puberty.

And then I got sick and began vomiting blood. The trip to the ER showed stomach ulcers from drinking tea (which is extremely acidic) on an empty stomach, and put a slight hole in my esophagus. I called this experience the time I was “accidentally anorexic”.

By college, I went gluten free (soy free and cane sugar free came about a year or two after). I started eating healthier and exercising and was rather happy with where I was at body image-wise. I changed my appearance often, even cutting my hair in a pixie cut. My exercising, however, became something I had to do and a way to cut calories. I would do the math and think: “Okay… I’ve burned a certain number of calories, enough to have burned off breakfast, and maybe that smoothie I want to have later.” (This is also known as exercise bulimia and a very common form of disordered eating.) I looked at my body more critically, wondering why I wasn’t getting the body I wanted. At one point I tried to survive on 1200 calories a day. I guesstimated my intake, so I’m sure I ate more than that. But it still stands that, while I was active and walking to class, I wasn’t eating enough. I think I even blacked out while driving at one point on my way back to campus housing for lunch.

When I started this blog, the first post began with me being hungry really early in the morning. The echoes of healing are apparent in many posts and recipes I’ve published in the last three years. Seeing a holistic nutritionist (Cheryl Harris of Harris Whole Health and Gluten Free Goodness) probably saved my life. She encouraged me to take small steps, read Johnston’s (2000) Eating in the Light of the Moon: How Women Can Transform Their Relationship with Food Through Myths, Metaphors, and Storytelling, and I slowly changed how I perceived eating and food. My self worth and image built itself up and, in increments, stopped focusing on calories and focused more on what my body needed and when.

Being diagnosed with hypothyroidism in 2011 also changed by body image and eating habits, and it really helped in knowing my struggles with weight weren’t entirely my fault. Yes, I could have eaten healthier and exercised more, but growing up with an underactive thyroid literally makes you the underdog. Not only does your metabolism suffer, everything does. How could I be healthy when I was sick all the time? How could I get better if it was my body that wasn’t working?

Since receiving treatment, I’ve noticed my body doesn’t get sick as often or as easily. And the slow change of feeling like I have to exercise to wanting to exercise as well as removing ‘good’ and ‘bad’  as labels for food (also called orthorexia, or a fixation of only eating what the person believes is healthy or ‘good’ food) really helped transform my mindset toward loving my body. I still have old paradigms rear their ugly heads when I’m stressed or feeling vulnerable, but I know where I am right now is a pretty awesome place to be.

The last thing that really changed everything for me was doing the Insanity Challenge. I went from 125 lbs to 142 lbs, eating up to 2500 calories to maintain efficiency. I started learning how to take cues from my body, and was absolutely fascinated how I became more solid, but didn’t get bigger. In horror, I realized just how much I denied my poor body nutrients in the name of fairytale beauty. I knew in theory that not eating enough will actually keep you from losing weight because your body is trying to keep you alive. But after completing the Insanity Workout, it finally resonated.

Even today, while I have moments (and they are fleeting, I’m happy to say) where I think I’m not pretty enough, smart enough, thin enough, whatever enough, I have a fantastic support system and I am dulling the words of that harsh Inner Critic we are all capable of having. I cook and eat because food nourishes my body and my soul. I exercise to see how my strength has improved physically and mentally. I have learned to treat myself with compassion and empathy, and am learning what situations open the door for negative thoughts (usually sleep deprivation, sickness, or getting stuck inside my own head for too long).

The one thing I really hope the world comes to realize is that people who suffer disordered eating do not do it for attention, and telling them about how there are people without food in other parts of the world do not help. And while it helps to receive reassurance (because I admit to needing reassurance from time to time), the only thing that will change their outlook on themselves and the need of control is their desire to change it. It may mean getting professional help (as I had), changing the environment that encourages this disorder, and taking as well as celebrating the little steps. And while I believe it is most certainly acceptable to change yourself to feel better health-wise, I have learned that seeking perfection is impossible, mostly because there is no such thing as the perfect person. It's okay to be any weight that makes you feel comfortable, so as long as you don't risk your health or happiness to get there. It's also okay to have a 'type', but just remember that the other types out there are equally awesome.

It also means looking at body shaming as it is: a form of violence and bullying. We need to stop focusing on beauty as a surface phenomenon and looking to create the word to mean something that is all-inclusive. Let's stop comparing ourselves to one another and looking for acceptance based on what the scale says or what the media tells us. We need to stop diminishing someone's worth based on their appearance, and STOP STOP STOP saying someone isn't beautiful in order to make someone else feel that they are. It is NOT okay. And the first step to achieving this is inward.

I am so grateful to my family, friends, and partner for changing my life. And thank you all who were so brave as to sharing their stories, with me personally, and on Post Secret. And for those who are still suffering, are recovering, and everywhere in between, I want to say this to you:

• You are beautiful in the present. At this very moment, you are the perfect you and you are on the path you need to take.
• You are the ideal you.
• You matter.
• You are loved, honored, and appreciated for being yourself.
• No one’s opinions of what you should look like or be like is important. The only thing that matters is how you feel.
• It does get better. I promise you.

I made this recipe as a way to honor those struggles, and to reach out to others. Following this recipe are some stories about disordered eating and body image. I cannot express to you how much I appreciated the bravery of these individuals to share their story. It will be updated throughout the week, but feel free to leave a comment also.

Mashed Potato Biscuit Hearts

420 g mashed potatoes*
75 g Garbanzo bean flour
100 g ground almonds (i.e., blanched almond flour)
65 g Brown rice flour
60 g Flaxseed meal
120 ml Whole milk
1 Large egg
1 tsp. Sea salt
3/4 tsp. Baking soda
3/4 tsp. Cream of Tartar

Preheat the oven to 375°F/190°C.
Mix together the wet ingredients (potatoes, milk, and egg) in a large bowl and add the dry (the dough will be a bit tacky).
Let the dough sit for five minutes.
On a floured surface, take a handful of dough** and flatten it to about an inch thick.
Using a heart-shaped cookie cutter (or any for that matter), press through the dough and place the cutouts onto a greased baking sheet (or parchment paper).
Continue to do so until all the dough has been formed, and bake for 30 minutes or until golden brown.
Remove from the oven and let them cool for about 10 minutes before eating.
Can be served hot or cold.

Makes 11 or more biscuits, depending on cutout size.

* I used the potato ricer to make the mashed potatoes and didn't add anything to them.

** I found it easier to take a handful of dough at a time than to just roll it out and cut.

Other's Stories (Coming Soon)

Story 1: The Legacy
The Influence of family: My first negative body image messages came from my own mother when I entered puberty. She made me self conscious about my weight gain. (Replaying the messages from her own mother about her struggles with weight gain. To lose weight that she gained during her own puberty, she ate only mayonnaise sandwiches for an entire summer. She did some severe dieting after each of her children to lose the baby weight, which affected her mood and energy levels.) I also remember my father making comments that 125 lbs was an ideal weight (for my mom) so that was a weight goal I strived to attain. No matter that I was actually 3 inches taller and actually looked ghastly at 125 lbs. As a result, I went through puberty and early adolescence (in the 1970’s)  “knowing” that I was “fat” and unattractive. As a result, I became anorexic in my mid-teens, something that was acerbated by a bout of mononucleosis.

The influence of media and product advertisements: Dress size, body weight, body image, attractiveness and perceived sexual desirability have always been interconnected. No matter that I actually felt my best when I weighed a certain amount. In order to fit into certain styles of clothing, I had to be a certain size. In order to accentuate my eyes and my cheekbones I needed to have a certain contour to my face (achieved only by dieting). The mirror: It lies. What I see is not what others see. As a result I have to use a tape measure; it doesn’t lie.

My regrets: I hate how I look. I have always hated how I look. Once in a while, when some time has passed and I see a picture of myself, I think, “Wow! I look really great in that picture.” But, if I think back to when the picture was taken and how I felt about my looks, I would say that I felt ugly or at least not attractive.

Legacy: I have watched helplessly as my own daughter has struggled with this amorphous monster, wondering what I could have done that I didn’t do; how I could have better protected her from the jaws of this gaping beast. I tried to offer unconditional love and support as she has struggled. I tried to keep my own self criticism and self esteem issues to myself. I tried to make every effort to not taint her with the family legacy of toxic messaging. I have tried to be her best cheer leader. But, as evidenced by her very public struggles with disordered eating, love isn’t enough. This dis-ease is insidious. It’s in our wiring, it’s in our cells…

Honesty

Honesty. Let us reflect upon the word together and discuss its meaning. The word is often overlooked or taken for granted as a virtue, because the truth can be a hard thing to face. But as they say, the truth will set you free, and I hope my being honest does the same.

Writing about hypothyroidism has been a fun learning experience, including the feedback I’ve received from people telling me their stories. I’ve written about my frustrations and my experimenting with food lifestyles and thyroid medicine doses. I did a little research on what foods may affect the thyroid in a negative way, and started looking into what forms of exercise can be beneficial to those with thyroid disease. But there was a symptom of hypothyroidism I kept close to my heart, something that I felt was slowly ruining my life and all I held dear.

Three little words, my dear readers: sleep maintenance insomnia (SMI).

A good cat nap is apparently hard to come by.

This post was originally going to portray a "Why me?!" diary entry, filled with ranting, less than positive language, and feeling sorry for myself. But after two days of fully slept nights, with the exception of getting up to use the bathroom and drink a glass of water by my bed, I hold my head high and wish to tell you this story honestly and completely.

There’s that word again. Honest.

 Now, I have told people of my less than awesome sleeping habits, about how not days, not weeks, but months passed by with my SMI waking me up between 2:30 and 4:00 most mornings on less than five hours of REM sleep.  I woke up starving, so I would fill my clawing hunger with an early breakfast and attempt to go back to sleep. But the damage was already done. Over six months of this terrible secret of mine kept me from being social after hours and rekindling my orthorexic tendencies and anorexic habits. I was so terrified that I was gaining weight I upped my workout habits to such a degree that it made matters worse.

Thus the vicious cycle repeated itself, day after day and night after night: lack of sleep leads to eating more leads to working out. I looked myself in the mirror and saw distortion. I found myself bringing out my worst inner critic, the one that screamed “Not Good Enough” and “How are you not losing weight? You must be doing it wrong.” I tried, dear readers, I really did. I did eat. I did exercise. And I did try certain remedies for a complete REM cycle: yoga, hot baths, a light snack right before bed, no caffeine after three in the afternoon…  

Herbal tea? Been there... done that.

But every morning I looked out to see streetlights glaring against the pitch black night, and felt my stomach growl like a predator that demands an easy meal.

I became so obsessed with controlling things like when and what I ate, how many times I exercised per week and for how long, because I felt that my life was spiraling out of control. No matter how busy I was or how many posts I published on Meals with Morri, my fatigue pushed me to work harder, to see more people, and to exercise more often.

And I could see the looks of disappointment in my friends’ faces when I couldn’t stay out long or not go out at all. It broke my heart that my lack of sleep only gave me certain hours of the day open to see people, and that was filled with exercise, work, and blogging. I could feel the concern and the confusion when I didn’t accept how they saw me: busy, in shape, and helping others. Finally, on Tuesday, it all came crashing down.

I was on my parents’ bed, my body heaving with uncontrollable sobbing. I was so tired it hurt, my mind restless and always thinking despite its exhaustion. I was frustrated that my fitness regimen wasn’t doing what I thought it would be by the end of May (i.e., firm tummy, toned arms, happy Morri…), and I was beyond angry how I looked at myself.

I just wanted eight hours of continuous sleep each night. Is that so much to ask?

Mama Dazz, who also has hypothyroidism (but in the form of Hashimoto’s), consoled me the best she could. From what came of the conversation, all my problems were the cause of my insomnia. It is improbable, highly unlikely, and extremely difficult to lead a healthy lifestyle while suffering from insomnia. As one of the symptoms of hypothyroidism, it is a leading cause to weight gain (or in my case, my body was always “on”, so it couldn’t keep up with my lifestyle and held onto my "plush" for dear life). I had restricted myself and controlled everything in my life to such an extent that, when I couldn’t complete a basic state of being, I felt so broken.

So there I was, curled up in a ball, crying my eyes out that shook my entire body, feeling like I was crazy, stupid, and the most useless sentient being in the world. If my SMI had gone on for another month, it is highly likely I would have been hospitalized until I was considered “normal” again. Between a rock and a hard place, I chose another option, one I wasn’t thrilled about but I did it anyway out of desperation.

I took medicine to sleep.

In the name of my holistic beliefs and philosophies, taking medication was something I’d refused for months. At the time, I felt like I would be a complete hypocrite to take over-the-counter pharmaceuticals. I’m personally not a fan of antidepressants, and as such I do not take them. I don’t take diets pills for weight loss, and instead eat healthily to the best of my ability and exercise when I can. I felt like taking medicine to sleep was, well, cheating. And if I was a hypocritical cheater, what made me think I could run Meals with Morri with a clear conscience?  

Bangin' bread on little sleep.

At the moment, sleeping well for two nights in a row is quite an achievement, and my body is following suit. It’s starting to understand how exhausted it truly is, and what it means to slow down and turn “off”. I’m not pushing myself to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed to prove how happy I am. I’m calmer and quieter, with a “sparkle” in my voice that I was told has been missing for quite some time.

There are quite a few theories why SMI has reared its grumpy head: too low a dose of thyroid medicine, boredom, restlessness, etc. And because the medicine to help me sleep seems to be working, I’m going to continue taking it for a few weeks and see how it goes. Mama Dazz has also put curtains in my bedroom to keep it dark and cool, which has also helped enormously. I’ve started seeing progress in my eating and not being ravenous all the time. Oh, and my climbing seemed to improve overnight, so I’m rather happy with that in particular .

My sincerest hope is that I’ll continue sleeping, and that we can continue to share our stories honestly with each other. I end this post with an interesting read I found on sleep:

“People say, 'I'm going to sleep now,' as if it were nothing. But it's really a bizarre activity. 'For the next several hours, while the sun is gone, I'm going to become unconscious, temporarily losing command over everything I know and understand. When the sun returns, I will resume my life.'

If you didn't know what sleep was, and you had only seen it in a science fiction movie, you would think it was weird and tell all your friends about the movie you'd seen.

They had these people, you know? And they would walk around all day and be OK? And then, once a day, usually after dark, they would lie down on these special platforms and become unconscious. They would stop functioning almost completely, except deep in their minds they would have adventures and experiences that were completely impossible in real life. As they lay there, completely vulnerable to their enemies, their only movements were to occasionally shift from one position to another; or, if one of the 'mind adventures' got too real, they would sit up and scream and be glad they weren't unconscious anymore. Then they would drink a lot of coffee.'

So, next time you see someone sleeping, make believe you're in a science fiction movie. And whisper, 'The creature is regenerating itself.”

(George Carlin, Brain Droppings)

Pleasant dreams, my dear readers. Here’s to finally sleeping in on a Saturday morning.

Fitness Week 1

Monday [completed]

Walk 10 minutes.

Next 6 minutes alternate running 1 minute and walking 1 minute.

Walk 4 minutes.

Stretch.

Notes: Time passed! Fun, and actually “ran.” I did stretch, but didn't do the ones they recommended. Will do so from now on.

Measurements 1 hr after 450-550 cal breakfast, and <8 oz cold water right before.

Body Photos [check.]

Weight: 124 lbs

BMI: 21.6

BMR: 1389.45

Measurements:

Forearms: L11 R11 in.

Waist: 26.75 in.

Hips: 36.75 in.

Thighs: L19 R19 in.

Total Inches: 123.5

Tuesday [sort of completed... see notes]

"Tone Zone" Strength Training Program.

Stretch.

Notes: I must have been doing work outs all wrong in the past. Thirty minutes + 10 - 15 minutes of the recommended stretching = beyond tired. On the other hand, I should have also watched the video(s) on each move, because I did: #1 wrong with a pair of 7.5 lb dumbbells, #2 too slowly (and thus, not well or at all), #3 straightforward and without the rotation, #4 with support and by bending my knee against the wall, #5 with 5 lb dumbbells and on bended knee when my right wrist started hurting again (that, and I didn't change arms every other time), #6 awkwardly and not changing direction to form a full circle, and #7 with 5 lb dumbbells and a lot of effort (but at least correctly).

For future reference, dear readers, if there is a video showing you a workout movement, click it before you hit the gym. I think I did the stretches correctly, though... except for #10 (didn't do sideways).

Wednesday [completed]

Walk 10 minutes.

Next 8 minutes alternate running 1 minute and walking 1 minute.

Walk 2 minutes.

Stretch.

Notes: Despite soreness from yesterday's workout, I ran beautifully. Did recommended stretches except for #5, #7, and #10 - 12 (I didn't have the equipment at home).

Thursday [not completed]

"Rock Solid Abs" Strength Training Program.

Stretch.

Notes: With an all-nighter, school, and then work, I didn't have time to go. That, and I didn't want to overexert myself. I moved Thursday's workout to Friday. Slept 12+ hours then that night, and felt significantly better.

Friday [completed Thursday's workout]

Walk 8 minutes.

Next 10 minutes alternate running 1 minute and walking 1 minute.

Walk 2 minutes.

"Rock Solid Abs" Strength Training Program.

Stretch.

Notes: The "Rock Solid Abs" Strength Training Program was really intense! It took me two tries to get the "Stability Ball Pelvic Tilt Crunch", but I'm glad I did it right. I'm still having issues with the plank exercises, such as "Walk the Plank and Rotate" and "Nose-to-Knee Crunch" and ended up not doing them. My muscles were still getting used to the new exercise plan, and I was quite awkward in my attempts. The rest of them, while difficult, were able to be completed successfully.

Saturday [Completed :)]

Rest Day.

My "cheat" day for gluten free grains, fruits, and sweeteners like honey or maple syrup.

Notes: I had a rolled oats breakfast bake with 2 eggs, 1/2 a banana, and peanut butter with spirulina for breakfast (including coffee). Went to Ikea (sigh... I miss Sweden), and had some of their coffee and half-&-half. For lunch had a teff "crepe", made with 2 eggs, and topped it with leftover turkey; side was goat chevre, tomatoes, and cucumber. I had an afternoon snack, a Granny Smith and a little honey. Dinner consisted of slices of New York strip, mushrooms and onions, and oven baked root veggies (rutabaga, garlic cloves, sweet potato, russet potato, and parsnip). 

Sunday [Completed]

Walk 6 minutes.

Next 12 minutes alternate running 2 minutes and walking 2 minutes.

Walk 2 minutes.

Stretch.

Notes: Not too bad, but I definitely ran slower. As I had run to far and extended the walk by an additional five minutes, I decided not to stretch as I have been doing after every exercise.

Becoming a Gluten Free Athlete with Socca Tuna Melt

Motivation comes in many forms. Some use the “I’m doing this so I don’t have to do it for the rest of my life” approach. Others use the “I’m doing this to make other people happy” approach. But I prefer the “I’m doing this for me” approach. I’m writing this blog for me, and hopefully to help others along the way.

I lost substantial weight my first semester in college. It was to prove to myself (and my ex-boyfriend at the time) that I was worth something, to feel better about myself, and to take my mind off the many changes coming my way. I went from weighing 140 lbs to about 118 lbs in a matter of a semester, a size 8 in pants to almost a size 0, and still I wasn’t happy. I think this is where my obsession with exercising and “healthy” eating truly began, and it’s taken the better part of four years of healing and patience and support to get where I am today.

My disordered eating wasn’t about food. It was about control. What I did or didn’t put into my mouth or how long and how often I exercised were the ways to make me feel like I ran my life. Change was always around the corner, but my body was for me to control and no one else could take that away from me. That was my logic, but really, what good came from it? If I felt it wasn’t okay for anyone else to go to bed hungry because they had no other choice, how was it okay for me to go to bed hungry when there was always a well-stocked kitchen downstairs? What was the point of eating healthy and working out every other day when it was never enough? Not only that, but when you limit your caloric intake and exercise, it’s not only illogical… it’s freaking dangerous.

I’m telling you this because of what happened this morning. IB and I went on a slow run this morning, less than half an hour and under two miles. When we finally came back, my face was a deep red; I was nauseous and had tunnel vision even after gulping down water. We decided it was best if I lay down, though after a few moments I started to shake convulsively. It went away, but he was still concerned. He’d been a runner for years and never experienced this before, so he started researching.

I’ve been working with Cheryl Harris for nutrition guidance and life enrichment since February this year. I can look back and happily say there is progress. I’m eating between 1500 and <1800 calories a day instead of having a panic attack if I eat more than 1200 (and yes, this included the days I exercised). I’m giving my body what it wants immediately when it asks for it. There are days when I’m still hungry after I’ve eaten dinner, typically when I have a late class and pack food for myself, and I no longer grudgingly feed myself until I’m no longer hungry.

I learned a new mantra, one that I can tell myself should insecurity rear its ugly head. “Food is the fuel that keeps me going, and not the anchor that weighs me down.” How's that for deep?

I'm NOT holding myself down anymore.

Maybe I felt that, since I wasn’t what I pictured to be an “Athlete,” I could eat normally and still work out like a gladiator. That is, one hour of aerobic exercise, about half an hour of weights and other gym machines, and I’m not even counting all the walking I do on campus. If I want to go to the gym three to five times a week, I need to make sure my body has the fuel to do it. That means sleeping a full eight hours a night, drinking water, getting the right vitamins, and yes, eating. Perhaps a year ago if the Burt-man asked me “Do you want to be strong and solid (implying the possibility of weight gain) or a ninety-eight-pound weakling?”, I would have had to think about it. If I was honest with myself, I would have likely preferred the latter because I felt I’d rather be thin (implying beauty) than muscled and "stocky". But I know better now.

Beauty is found in a happy self, a body that gets what it needs and never wants. I still have a long way to go, but I’m not the person I was four years ago trying to be something that others would like. The next time I speak to Cheryl, I will focus on the Gluten Free Athlete perspective, and what measures I need to take in order to embody this persona safely, effectively, and happily. Michelle and Lori of Pure2Raw seem to have this concept down to a science.

Oh! And I’ve discovered a new blog, The Gluten Free Athlete. Something tells me I’m going to be visiting it often. But for now, I have a socca recipe for you, one that I gobbled up gleefully post-run. High in healthy fats and carbohydrates, my body felt like new.

Socca Tuna Melt

1 Socca Recipe
1 slice Gouda cheese, quartered
1/4 c. Canned tuna in olive oil, drained of excess oil
1 heaping tbsp. Fresh salsa 
1/2 tsp. Dijon mustard

Prepare and cook the socca (like so) and place it under the broiler.
Thoroughly blend together the tuna, fresh salsa, and mustard.
Remove the socca from the oven, flip over, and lay out the cheese on one side.
Top the cheese with the tuna mixture and fold the other side on top (like you would an omelet).
Place it under the broiler once more until the cheese is melted.

Cut it in half and serve with sour cream, a small salad, and carrot juice.

Serves 1.

Mushroom Risotto & Garlic-Jalapeño Green Sauce

This is not the post I thought I'd be writing this morning. In fact, I was supposed to officially move in yesterday with five other friends in a house less than five miles away from George Mason University. And after that laborious ordeal, we were supposed to be celebrating the move in with an elaborate dinner and a gluten free and vegan baked donuts breakfast the following morning. Instead, my last semester as an undergraduate starts today, and I’m at home with my parents, a few recipes and posts behind schedule.

1st breakfast of the semester.

I’m not going to get into detail of what happened, because I think that would be in poor taste and, as they say, “the Internet is forever”. What I will say is the house didn’t work out, and standing up for what’s right for you can be the hardest and least popular thing you could do for yourself.

I don’t blame anyone, not really. There was a miscommunication of what was expected, both from the owners/landlords and by the individual tenants. And what have I to show for it? The family I was to be renting from were friends of mine, and I lost that friendship to business. It wasn’t supposed to be about me; rather, the fact of the matter was the house wasn’t ready to rent out. I couldn’t breathe when I was attempting to move in before the boyfriend got back from Texas. Even with the windows open, my lungs felt heavy. My throat is so swollen from all that has happened (additionally, I hurt my wrist in attempt to move a wooden couch frame down a flight of stairs by myself) that I have gotten spirulina powder, chlorella capsules, and a box of Omega3 Squeeze Chocolate Orange just to detox my body in time for the first week of the semester.

Experimenting with spirulina in my breakfast. A bit too green for me.

Many lessons were learned last week, lessons that were hard and heartbreaking. I learned why I used to exercise so obsessively, and that was to make sure I was strong enough to never be taken advantage of, whether it was physically, emotionally, mentally, or spiritually. I cried, along with multiple panic attacks, and I was left with the feeling of depth and quiet as opposed to numbness and cynicism.

I learned what true friendships looked like. There is the kind of friend that stops what they are doing to come with you to move all your stuff from the house in the middle of the night, and do this multiple times over the course of a weekend. There is the kind of friend that stands up for you and stands with you, no matter what arises. There is the kind of friend you find in your lovers and loved ones, who provide support and advice and encourage you to stick with your guns and hold strong onto what you believe in.

Most of all, I learned the difference between being independent and being dependent on yourself. Depending on yourself doesn’t necessarily mean you don’t depend on others, like it would be expected should you strive on true independence. It means that, despite everything that is going on in your life, you never give in to what you know in your heart to be wrong. Sometimes, it differs from person to person, and that is completely okay. As a conflict resolution major, I strived to keep the relationship before the business, and of course there are some things I wish were said and others that I wish there weren’t. But the house will have tenants that the landlords think it deserves, and I am happy for them. I wished it could’ve worked out, but in the end, I think it did.

With that, lovely readers, I have two recipes make up for my absence due to the drama and trauma of this last week. Both came together to make a lovely meal, and the balance of taste, texture, and heat was similar to the absolutely delish steak dinner Mama Dazz and I had in Cape Cod.

Mushroom Risotto

12 oz Arborio rice
32 oz Vegetable stock
1/2 tsp sea salt
Pinch of each, Cayenne & Paprika
1 tbsp. Olive oil
1 tbsp. Dehydrated minced onion
1/4 tsp. Italian seasoning
2 oz Parmesan cheese, freshly and finely grated

1 tbsp. Olive oil
3 tbsp. Pinot Grigio
10 oz Baby Bella mushrooms, thinly sliced
2 tsp. Coconut aminos (or gluten-free tamari sauce)

Place the rice, stock, oil, and spices into the rice cooker on “Brown Rice”  (i.e., slow cooking) or in a medium saucepan on low heat for up to an hour).
After the rice has absorbed all of the liquid, add in the Parmesan cheese and keep the rice cooker on “Warm” (or you can put a lid on the saucepan).
Put the oil, wine, mushrooms, and aminos in a skillet on medium-high heat and cook until the mushrooms are done.
You can add the mushrooms in the rice or simply put them on top.

Serves 6 – 8.

Garlic-Jalapeño Green Sauce

3 Jalapeño peppers, seeded, deveined, and coarsely chopped
3 Garlic cloves, coarsely chopped
Juice of 1 Lime
3 Basil leaves
3 tbsp. Olive oil
2 tbsp. Unrefined apple cider vinegar
1/4 tsp. Sea salt
1/4 tsp. Cracked pepper

Place all of the ingredients in a food processor and blend thoroughly.
The sauce is rather thick, similar to a runny puree, so add more oil and vinegar for a thinner sauce.
Keep refrigerated and use within a week of making.

Makes 2/3 c.

Curried Sweet Potato Oven Fries

After this week, I can happily say my summer funk has lifted. I spent the better part of two weeks in my pajamas, lethargic and bored out of my mind. As a Morri always on the go, I was saddened that my body didn’t want to exercise.

I felt like I wasn’t eating more than I usually did, but it was apparent my inactivity was physically and mentally taking a toll. For the majority of my journey in self-awareness I had only two speeds: stop and go. Everywhere I went I wholly put myself into the moment, then crashing as a result for days afterward. I learned to balance my highs and lows, to listen to my body when it was time to step back and give myself a break. But these days, with people coming by daily and my house is full of activity, I felt lazy by comparison. The only thing that kept me from watching cartoons all day was – you guessed it – cooking.

My two weeks of inaction was my time of self-reflection. In a few short weeks I’ll be at my internship, working with wonderful people at George Mason for a month. By August, I’ll be renting a house with the boyfriend and some friends, maybe with an animal or two. Finally, after this fall semester, I’ll have graduated, set out into the world with a degree and a dream. So I think I can safely tell you all that there are a lot of things going on in my near future.

Mama Dazz has been my go-to person to talk about these kinds of things (as mothers typically are) and she helped me put it into perspective. For one, I have learned to give myself some slack and to not punish myself for the things my body wants as a result. For another, I am an active person, and my way of relaxing is by being in motion.

Since I do not have access to the university’s gym this summer, I’m finding different ways to work out. When I was a little girl, the Burt-man tried to get me to play tennis, but I was never interested in the sport. But I was desperate. I needed to get outside, to feel the strain on my muscles and the sweat trickling down my face. I yearned to hear the playlist I made specifically for exercising.

Tennis has become my summer sport, to which a shocked Mama Dazz looks at me and says, “Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?”

She was right about one thing, though; giving your whole self a break is good for the soul. Truthfully, I was in a funk for most of it, but my creations in the kitchen have definitely been some of my best works yet.

I now have an outlet for my body, a way to keep myself balanced and mobile, but I am learning the art of doing nothing (i.e., relaxing) when there is nothing to do, to accept and trust that my body is resting for a reason, and to enjoy being still.

Even when I’m not in the mood to play, at least I have refuge in preparing meals for the people I love.

Curried Sweet Potato Oven Fries

3 medium Sweet potatoes, peeled, quartered, and slice (each potato can be made into 32 pieces)
2 tsp Garlic, finely grated
1/2 tsp. Sea salt
1/2 tsp. Garam Masala (or curry powder)
1 dash Cayenne
3 tbsp. Olive oil (or flaxseed oil)
1 tbsp. Orange juice

Preheat the oven to 400°F.
In a large plastic bag, add all of the ingredients and shake the bag until the sweet potato strips are equally coated.
On a greased baking pan, spread out the strips on a single layer.
Roast the fries for 45 minutes to an hour, turning them over at the 25-minute mark.

Makes 96 fries and can serve 3 to 6 people.