How to Survive Getting Glutened (again)

Let’s say, for whatever reason, you got glutened. Yes, insert the dramatic and ominous music. This may be the first time or the twentieth time (I sincerely hope not) since you've removed gluten from your system, but you do know that it’s going to suck. It’s essentially the five stages of grief and loss: you’re in denial that it happened, I mean, you’re always so careful; you’re angry, maybe feeling betrayed by the food in question, the people who gave it to you, or you for eating it; you try to bargain with your body, and quite possibly telling yourself that it wasn’t very much and so it can’t be that bad; then you get depressed, as you start feeling the tremors in the tummy and digestive tract, knowing that a lot of the fun things you were getting ready to do did not include this; and finally, acceptance, because it’s happening, so you may as well do whatever you can to alleviate the discomfort.

Maybe you’re so zen that you just shrug and go right to the taking care of yourself part. In that case, I salute you, glutened zen master.

How you take care of yourself is vital to a speedy recovery, but know that while there is physical damage that takes place (inflammation, tightness, constipation, headaches), it is a lot worse when you are panicking.

Panicking amplifies the pain, and it also keeps you from having a steady head when you have to deal with the result of being glutened. After realizing you’ve been glutened, the next step I usually take is keeping myself calm or taking something for the anxiety. Deep steady breaths and self-compassion will lower your chances of hyperventilating and freaking out. (Also, if you know you experience terrible symptoms to the point you need to go to the doctor’s or the ER, seek medical help immediately.)

As you’re calming down, if you haven’t discerned the culprit, take a moment to trace back what possibly happened, and how much you actually ingested. Was it contaminated cooking oil or a prep space? Was it a thickener? Was it a food, such as breadcrumbs or a grain?

Once you’ve figured out the dastardly gluteny villain, let a few people know, especially those you’re living with. For one thing, you’ll have support and help in taking care of you if need be. For another, it really just helps in knowing that someone has your back. It can feel very betraying to be glutened. You can feel untrusting of anyone else but you with your health, which is completely understandable. But even if you decide to take charge of your healing for the next few days, the people who understand what you’re going through will remind you to keep calm, drink plenty of fluids, eat easily digestible food, and take as much rest as you need.

For me, the amount of the gluten ingested dictates the amount of discomfort and healing time that follows. It’s not the same for others. Sometimes, one crumb of wheat bread can be just as bad as eating an entire loaf for some people. It really depends from person to person. When I was glutened with that green apple drink over three years ago, I was bed ridden for days. When I was glutened this weekend, it wasn’t as bad because I didn’t directly ingest it. But kitchens sometimes forget the cooking oils. Sometimes they forget how crucial it is to keep gluten free orders at separate prepping stations. So while the discomfort wasn’t fun, and I did experience the typical symptoms of being glutened, it was less so and only for about a day.

During that time water and probiotics are your two best friends and allies. I typically use FiveLac, but kefir, yogurt, kombucha, and miso are also good choices. Remove as much allergenic or inflammatory foods as possible from your system, and focus on the foods that are high in minerals and vitamins. I typically lose my appetite from the experience, but herbal teas with honey and thin, spice-laden broths (like turmeric and garlic) are fantastic. Congee, smoothies, and blended soups are my preference.

Since your tummy is going to feel like a battlefield, try to wear comfortable, loose clothing. Nothing constricting or skin-hugging to promote further discomfort. If you can get away with wearing pajamas all day, I say go for it. But for those having to go to work and look sharp, soft fabric and loose clothing (such as sweaters, wraps, drawstring or elastic waistband bottoms, or dresses that don’t hug the waist) will help raise your morale in knowing just how wonderful you are despite feeling like crap.

Finally, listen to your body in what it’s capable of doing activity-wise. Try to keep yourself mobile, but not at top speed. If you feel you can, do some light stretching or yoga. Meditate. Take a nice, long hot soak with Epsom salt. Do some housework. Work on a hobby. If you do need to nap, by all means nap. But I do know that I tend to spiral in the crappy feeling, so doing things I love helps promote a faster recovery simply because I’m not wallowing. That may mean hanging out with friends but not rock climbing, or cleaning my room instead of working on the whole house.

There are a lot of “What to do when you’ve been glutened” articles out there, but these are the ones that work for me. What about you? What really helps you on the road to recovery?

When [He's] in Rome

Long distance relationships are hard. It takes a lot of effort to keep one going while separated, but it is doable. And with the right person, it’s worth it.

In our second stretch of time that we’ve been apart, we’ve really made the effort to show that the relationship is important to us. We Skype almost every day: talking about how our day went, complete with its triumphs and grievances. The important thing in any relationship is keeping the line of communication open, but it’s absolutely fascinating how many couples tend to forget that.

The other thing we do during our talks is watch Babylon 5 episodes at the same time together. He got me hooked on the series when he was visiting over the summer, and it is an activity that helps us feel connected despite his being 4500 miles away. We’ll watch one, at most three, and I’ll hear him giggle at my expressions.

(My Can't-Look-Away Expression)

(My Season Finale Expression)

Lately, he’s been having a lack of motivation where meals are concerned. He’s a lot like me in that regard; unless it’s a moment shared with people we care about, food is typically considered food and nothing more. Sure, we are creative with leftovers and think of new things of make, but the spark of cooking just isn’t there. So we came up with a plan to use Skype for more than witty banter and Babylon 5 marathons.

Now, we use it in the kitchen.

I don’t know who decided what the dish would be, but the point of this act of connecting was the following:

1. It would be the same dish.
2. It would be from the same recipe.
3. It would be prepared, cooked, and eaten simultaneously. (My lunchtime is his dinnertime, so it works out beautifully.)

Even 4500 miles away, we can still cook together.

The dish was a Roman classic: Spaghetti Cacio e Pepe. Any Roman will emphasize that it has three ingredients and only three ingredients. Always. No exceptions.

Cheese + Black pepper + Pasta = Delizioso. 

He got the recipe off of the Tales of Ambrosia site, and although I used gluten free pasta and the wrong cheese (It was a Pecorino Romano / Parmesan blend), it was absolutely divine.

I loved her trick of putting the serving bowl on top of the pot to heat it up with steam. The only differences were I made a fourth of the recipe (enough for one really hungry person or two just hungry enough persons) and I simply mixed the ingredients in the drained pot before putting it on the hot plate. Oh, and using a blend of cheeses. (I can already feel the Romans cringing from here…)

(image source)

I still stand by my statement in saying that Tinkyáda’s® Rice Pasta is the best I’ve encountered in my gluten-free journey thus far. We use many of their products in our noodle dishes, and their spaghetti pasta was perfect to use in this recipe. Did I mention it slurps like semolina-based pasta?

Now that's what I call quality.

My Boyfriend, The Vegetarian

His being vegetarian isn’t his only redeeming quality. He’s smart, funny, compassionate, handsome, and he believes in our relationship. He believes in making us work as much as I do. 

Air & Space Museum (see us?)

For the better part of 2013, he was my best-kept secret. Only a handful of people in my family and friendship circles even knew we were dating.  In fact, let me narrate the following conversation between my cousin and I:

Her: So Morri, I saw from Facebook that your relationship started in December of last year (we had made it Facebook official in August).

Me: (sheepish grin forming) Yeah, about that…

Her: So my question is… Why didn’t you tell me?

Or, better yet, I would mention him in passing and people would say, “Woah, woah! Hold the phone! Your boyfriend?!”

In truth, with my last relationship ending last year and being absolutely devastated by it, I was hesitant to bring this one under the Meals with Morri radar. In my logic, it was kind of like tattooing your sweetheart’s name onto your body, daring the Universe to do its worst. But the more and more we talked and spent time together (he was abroad for the majority of our relationship, teaching in Italy) over the summer, the more confident I felt that this was the person I wanted to be with as my partner. 

Our First Mead.

The ultimate lesson I am getting from this relationship is taking things in stride. Nothing is rushed. For the first time I didn’t feel like I had to be going one million miles a minute, and it was a glorious feeling to sleep in, watch Babylon 5, and make delicious food. 

Gluten Free Chicago-style Pizza

... Or at least delicious messes.

Pumpkin Uh-oh Waffles

That’s the other lesson I learned: cooking is extremely important to me when it comes to love. When he came to visit in December, he taught me to make cheese from scratch. It was the sort of moment, watching us cook together in perfect synchronization in an out-of-body sort way, that I realized I wanted this relationship to work with all my heart. I realized I was in love with him.

Koester Potatoes with fresh dill from my garden

I’ve also come to understand that there is no limitation to how much you love someone. I know this because I find ways to fall in love with him more and more each day. I find that even with hard conversations, I feel better for having them. We work to come up with solutions and not argue about who is right. We turn little things into traditions, like Waffle and Koester potatoes on Saturdays or reading to each other during long drives. We teach each other our passions, such as his love for chemistry, philosophy, and all things geektastic and my love for cooking, health, and conflict resolution.

Finally, besides "Communication! Communication! Communication!", cooking together has become my favorite pastime with him. It’s the thing I hope we never grow out of and continues bringing us together. 

Veggie Sushi with Adzuki Bean Miso and Onion Soup

So the secret is out: I have a partner. One who loves peanut butter as much as I do. One who loves being in the kitchen and wearing silly aprons. One whose family is as supportive of our being together as much as mine. One who showed me the fascinating world of DnD and vegetarian cuisine. One who wants to take me places. One who makes me nourishing food when I'm feeling less than awesome. One who is all for this adventure we call a relationship.

Us.

Now, I'm not sure if I will go full throttle vegetarian at this point, but at the moment my body is enjoying limiting meat from my diet in exchange for eggs, cheese, beans, and high protein gluten free grains. We'll see how it goes. 

The Aftermath: Coming Together in Support for Sandy

Food brings people together. It is a statement so true that I have written about it over and over and over again. In most cases I say this for idyllic circumstances, where I’m surrounded by people I love, laughing over plates of delicious food, or philosophizing about something or other while sipping cider, tea, or mead. Food is a way of connecting with people as one of our most basic needs are met, physically warmed as it reaches our stomachs and emotionally warmed as we discover how extraordinary life is with those we love.

In the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy, there are those out there still picking up the pieces the storm had left in its wake. While the worst I experienced were flickering lights, empty water jugs artfully flung into the grass from the porch, and a toppled birdbath, my family was still safe and warm from Sandy’s screaming winds. For days some families were without power, or unable to leave their streets because of fallen trees and large debris. Thousands had to be evacuated from their homes, and additional thousands lost them entirely. And unfortunately, we lost a few sentient beings in the storm’s havoc.

Here I was, working on my own life, and as if reawakened I was suddenly aware what was going on around me. There are others out going through the same thing I am, and I no longer feel so alone in my experiences. In times like these people realize that they aren’t alone, that they’re cared about and their lives are meaningful. So whoever you are, wherever you are, whether I know you or not, I wish you well and hope you are safe.

When the lovely Jenn of Jenn Cuisine posted “Food Bloggers Support for Sandy”, I felt that this would be a great opportunity to reconnect with others in the world, creating a virtual buffet of warmth and delight of the senses for a shared cause. This isn’t about gluten-free eating; and to be honest, it really isn’t about Sandy (although it was the event that brought Jenn and Barbara [of Creative Culinary] to create this awareness). It’s about connecting with your neighbors: the ones living next door and the ones in the states Sandy hit the hardest. It’s about remembering that, regardless of political/national/ethnic orientation, we are still people who live, breathe, laugh, cry, suffer, love, and eat.

Perhaps you will donate to the various organizations Jenn listed towards disaster relief. Perhaps you will volunteer your time to providing food and other provisions yourself. Or maybe, just maybe, you will create a dish in the hopes to create awareness and reach out to whichever neighbor happens to need you most.

Regardless, I dedicate this meal to the people who volunteered, rescued, survived, and persevered during Hurricane Sandy.

Roasted Pork Loin and Vegetables

2 lb. Pork Loin
1 lb. Brussels sprouts
3 Sweet potatoes (a little larger than hand-sized), chopped into bite-sized pieces
2 Apples (I used small Fujis), coarsely chopped
4 Garlic cloves, coarsely chopped
1 Red onion, coarsely chopped
70 ml Rendered chicken fat*
120 ml Apple cider
1 tsp. Sea salt
1 tsp. Dried tarragon
1/2 tsp. Mignonette pepper**
1/4 tsp. Powdered rosemary

Preheat the oven to 450°F.
In a x” baking sheet lined with aluminum foil, set the whole pork loin in the center to bake uncovered for 35 minutes.
In a large mixing bowl, fold the remaining ingredients until completely integrated and well mixed.
Remove the pork from the oven, pour the vegetables around the meat, and cover with aluminum foil.
Place the pan back in the oven, reducing the heat to 375° to bake for an additional hour.
Take off the foil and cook for another 30 minutes, or until the center of the meat reaches 177° and the vegetables are soft and have browned slightly.
When done, slice the meat into thick cutlets, and serve each cut with a heaping spoonful of veggies (you could also make a quick gravy with the leftover juices).
Serve warm.

Makes 6 – 8 servings.

*I usually have a jar of the stuff after making my oven-baked chicken. But if you don't happen to have this on hand, you can substitute it with your preferred cooking oil/fat.

**This is Penzeys Spices's version of "coarsely cracked pepper", so whatever cracked peppercorns you have will work beautifully.

Self-Realization and Without a Plan

I have been wondering almost to an obsession why I have suddenly come to a standstill. Over a week had gone by and there wasn’t a recipe made, a photo taken, or a witty post written. I came back from my long weekend in Florida and discovered something daunting and rather terrifying: I lost my plan.

It didn’t occur to me until a few days ago what my breakup would mean in the long run. Here I was at twenty-two (a month shy of turning twenty-three), in a relationship with a man I thought was the forever kind, and poof! All the plans and dreams that involved "us" were gone, completely thrown out the window as if it never existed. I was feeling, for lack of better words, lost, because for 2.5 years I didn’t have a plan without him in it.

“We must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us.” (J. Campbell)

Flash forward to today, with hormones and emotions flaring up, and I have been looking into new plans, short and long-term goals for what I want to do in life. My friend in Florida and our mutual friend in Italy have shown me from their past heartbreaks that the heart does heal and the world will not implode in on itself while being single. By no longer having a plan that includes another person at this point in my life, I can focus on my studies, my health, my passions in conflict resolution/food justice/sustainable development, and learn the beauty of solitude and inner quiet.

 "By creating a strong body and emanating good health, we attract more of the same in our lives." (R. Mars)

The world seems so vast and new, raw and intimidating. I have started to see how much of ourselves we give to others, intentionally or not, and the positive and negative effects it can have on you as a whole. You start to question yourself: Did I make this decision for me or because it was expected? The scary part is wondering whether or not you would know the difference.

You think you know everything in your early twenties. You think you can handle whatever trials the world decides to throw at you, because it is what is expected. I can’t believe how much self-inflicted stress I endured because I felt I didn’t have the plan that suited the expectations of everyone else  (Rosenberg and Gandhi’s (2003) Nonviolent Communication has really helped in this department). Once my old plan literally fell to pieces, the one that consisted of pleasing everyone along with unrealistic goals and expectations I had put upon myself, self-realization and an inner calm overtook me.
 
In a lifetime of gasping for air, in asking for the right to breathe, I could feel my entire lungs utilized and I breathed deeply. I’m sleeping throughout the night and eating healthily. I’m finally acting my age and having fun doing it.

So what’s my plan? To keep doing what I’m doing, and learning all I can along the way. I’m going to continue being inspired by the people life puts on my path, love them and honor them for the lessons they bring. I’m going to give generously, receive fully, and pay it forward whenever I can.

And naturally, with an assortment of recipes coming your way. 

Hard Lessons of a Gluten-Free Undergrad

Picture this, if you would. There’s a gluten-free student living in a college dorm for five weeks. There is no kitchen to use, not even a fridge. The college isn’t particularly gluten-free or allergy friendly, but the student wants to be as nutritionally balanced as possible.

Until the end of July, this will be my reality.

I’ll be honest; I thought eating would be the most challenging part of this internship, but it isn’t. I miss my kitchen, and my family (no more than fifteen minutes away) misses my cooking, but I’ve made do with what I have in my dorm. Since last Wednesday, a coffee maker, a rice cooker, a water purifier, and a mini fridge are the only appliances I’ve brought with me. The closet, particularly the top and third drawer of my dresser, is my pantry for eating ware and foods that do not need refrigeration. The meals I’ve been making are basic, easy to put together, and similar day-to-day, but I anticipated that. With all my running around, basically working eighteen-hour days until today, I’ve resulted to eating three meals a day. I think I’ve lost a little weight, with all my walking and carrying things all over campus, but it’s nothing too severe or worrisome.

In fact, this is the first in a long time that I’ve felt like “me”. I was always the girl who was optimistic and energetic, the girl with a personality you couldn’t contain, and because of that I could relate to a wide spectrum of people. Maybe it was the trip to Sweden that changed me, a paradigm shift that made me more introverted and rarely reaching out to people. Maybe there was an evolution in my emotional intelligence or, maybe, that I’m finally being treated for my hypothyroid condition like I should have been all those years ago. Yet this internship, the fellows who came here and the colleagues I work with, have turned back the clock to the Morri I thought had disappeared.

For years I had worked on leveling out my extremes. I was either high on life, a ball of energy, or crashing for a few days after to recover. If I wasn’t smiling, there was the assumption that life was not kosher in the Land of Morri. I was either grounded and calm or fluttering in the breeze. There was no middleman. It was a crazy roller coaster ride.

Looking back on that part of my life that, strangely enough, was up until the end of my freshman year in college, I realize that there’s a significant difference to then and now. Those were manic extremes, true, but I believe a part of the old Morri has shined through because I have something to do that I wholeheartedly believe in. I have wanted to be a part of this program since last summer, and the fellows are such wonderful kids. I’ve learned how to say things in multiple languages. I’ve had deep, philosophical discussions with them randomly throughout the day. I’ve listened to a sad story of one, where I spent the majority of Sunday afternoon sobbing like I haven’t done in such a long time.

In less than a week, I’ve learned a series of hard lessons. Despite my being the youngest mentor of the Institute and, at most, only being a few years older than these kids, it was extremely difficult to realize that I wasn’t a fellow. I wasn’t one of them. No matter how much they like me (and I them) and regard me as their friend and confidant, I am still their mentor and have to walk the very fine line between authority figure and “buddy.” Not only that, but as mentioned before I had to listen to an extremely sad story, who was asking – no, pleading – me and the other young mentor that they wished to stay, their parents telling them to not come home because it was so dangerous... I felt so helpless. With blurred eyes I glanced across the table at the other young mentor did I realize he was just as horrified and felt just as vulnerable as I had.

I wasn’t prepared to hear the very real injustices and cruelty that existed in this world, and I briefly questioned if I was in the right field. As an undergraduate CAR student, I haven’t gone abroad and experienced conflict first-hand like my colleagues with their Masters and PhD's have. I’ve only sat in classrooms where documentaries showed how vicious people could be (and Sweden doesn’t compare to places in the Middle East or Africa), but that is significantly different to listening to someone you’ve grown to care for, someone you’ve taken under your wing and developed a connection with. I have become so attached to many of them that I wish I could tell them it will be okay. I wish I could scare the boogeyman that haunts us all, and keep them here where it is safe. But that isn’t fair to them; all I can do is be there and honor them by listening to their stories.

My biggest fear is developing such a thick skin that I become numb to these types of stories. It is a blessing to experience empathy and compassion with all your heart and being, no matter how upset you become. I am sure to hear many more stories, and I may hold them and cry, but while they’re here I can guarantee safety and love. While I’m here, I’ll never stop caring.

Self-Confidence and the Realities of Summer: Chicken Waldorf Salad

“At the center of your being you have the answer; you know who you are and you know what you want.” Lao Tzu said that over two millennia ago, but it has only resonated with me this summer. All the same, I say this every year: this is the summer that I am changing the most significantly. It was the summer before college that I said was the most significant in my life. It was the summer after my freshmen year that I said was the most crucial to how I perceived the world. The summers after my sophomore and junior years were the most important in defining family. And what about this summer, the summer before my last semester as an undergrad, the summer that is over one-thirds over?

This is the summer I grow into myself.

I would say that this is the summer I grow up. I would also say this is the summer I become an adult, but that just isn’t true. I have had adult grievances and responsibilities and joys for a while, situational or otherwise throughout my twenty-one odd years of life. Adulthood is just a metaphor, because I don’t think adults even know what it means to be one. But for some reason, children have childhood perfected, until someone comes along and tells them they aren’t doing it right. Then these children are forced to grow into themselves prematurely or a little late in the game into skins too large or too small, because these adults thought it was best, because they believe they are the only ones who know best. Maybe they do know what’s best the majority of the time, maybe all the time, but maybe I do too.

Then again, when everything is happening at once, you have to turn to those who’ve been doing this a lot longer than you. At the same time, you desire balance and compromise. You want to appear competent, responsible, and reliable in all the things you’ve set out to do. You want to be respected as the adult you’re growing into, trusted into doing it your way.

To quote my younger self whenever Mama Dazz asked me why I was crying: “I’m upset because I am not getting my way.” Ah, the honesty of toddlerhood. If only the “adult” me was so honest and insightful.

The universe is a precise and consistent entity. Ask and you shall receive. It doesn’t always give you what you want when you want it, but it can give you what you need when you need it… if you’re observant enough to recognize it and patient enough to wait for it.

I may want to do it all my way, but I also have to trust in others when they’ve had experiences similar to mine. At the same time, a little confidence in me wouldn’t hurt either.

Chicken Waldorf Salad

32 oz Cooked skinless chicken breast meat, cut into manageable chunks
2 Granny Smith apples, cored and finely chopped
30 g (1/4 c.) Raisins
40 g (1/4 c.) Almond slivers
3 Celery stalks, diced
1 Red onion, diced
3 Garlic cloves, diced
1 tbsp. Ginger, crushed or finely chopped
2 tsp. Black sesame seeds
6 oz Lassi (or Kefir)
1 tsp. Dijon mustard
1 Lemon, juiced
1/2 tsp. Sea salt
1/4 tsp. Pepper

If the chicken has not been cooked already, steam the meat until fully cooked, let it cool, then chop it up and put into a large mixing bowl.
Fold in the chopped apple, raisins, almond slivers, onion, garlic, ginger, and sesame seeds to the chicken until thoroughly combined.
In another bowl, blend together the lassi, Dijon mustard, lemon juice, the salt and pepper.
Pour the sauce over the dry ingredients and stir until coated.
Serve on top of lettuce.

Makes 6 – 8 servings.

The Bento Box Snapshot: Lox Sans a Bagel Spring Roll

This cloudy morning has brought me two things: a cancelled anthropology class and my blog’s first (official) supporter. Melanie of Mindful Food commented on my I-Can’t-Believe-It’s-Avocado and Carrot Muffins post with these kind words:

"Hi - I saw your post on Karina's FB page and came over to see what you are about. GF ratio rally! I don't remember seeing you in the big list last week. I also had a recipe in the rally…

Melanie's Gluten Free Ratio Rally entry... YUM!

I also am fairly new to food blogging but have surely caught the bug. I've signed up as your first follower!

I love the idea of using avocado as the fat in baked goods - I haven't tried it yet - but your recipe has inspired me!

Best of luck! I'll be back. Blessings, Melanie"

I did that? I inspired someone? She’ll be back?

Melanie, you truly made my day.

As for anthropology, does class being cancelled mean I’m going back to bed and laze the day away until 4:20 p.m. for my three-hour community conflict resolution class? Goodness gracious no! I’ve got awesome Morri things to do today.

Like this post, for example. And this recipe.

My first week of blogging has been such a delight. Family members and friends alike have been so supportive, commenting on my pancake post, suggesting recipes and trying out mine. Really, thank you for everything. I hope to hear more of your voices as this blog goes into full swing. Feel free to comment on the recipes, ask questions, make suggestions, and email me. It’s as much of a learning experience for me as it is for you.

And I am hungry for more.

Speaking of hunger, after my hypothyroid diagnosis and five days of being on the Armour Thyroid, she has gone from being a feral cat scratching and biting at my arms to a playful kitten pawing for attention. I’m not waking up at 4:30 a.m. or getting these intense headaches throughout the day. My body temperature has gone from 96.5ºF to 98.1ºF (thus, I am no longer a member of the lizard family). My hands and feet aren’t like ice, and they’ve lost their yellowish hue. My jaw line and neck is more pronounced. Pants that were tight fitting are looser. I have more energy and am hardly fatigued. And these are just the physical changes. Mentally I can retain the information I’m given, both in social and academic settings, more efficiently. The channel between what I’m thinking to what I’m saying isn’t blocked. I am vigilant and aware, with a winning attitude and a confident stride. I am not dwelling on things I can’t control in my life, and with the complete 180º of my mental/emotional/physical/spiritual focus, life (although a bangin’ adventure before my treatment) has never seemed so crisp and clear and beautiful.

The only downside I can think of is the menopausal-like hot flashes I’m getting 1 – 3 times a day. (To think, women deal with this for ten years or more.) But I like how my mom described it: “It’s like turning on the furnace after it has been off for an entire summer.” Eventually, the flushing will subside, but the fact I’m experiencing this at all means my body is working up to its full potential. And when you’re body is functioning properly, the first thing it tells you is that it’s hungry.

I admit I arrived late on the bring-your-lunch-to-school parade (a senior in college). But with my classes being at the times they are, it was necessary if I didn’t want to start getting my daily fiber intake by gnawing on my desk. It took me a week or so to get the hang of it, but pretty soon I was munching away while taking notes on Social Identity Theory and debating the differences between free will and determinism.

That’s where the idea of Bento comes in. Now, if you haven’t been to Just Bento, you really should. I became enamored with this site (and its sister, Just Hungry) while in Sweden, and looked forward to having a bento box of my very own. By February I got my wish. Sadly, my beautiful bento box is not insulated, so I bought a flat purple lunch box to keep the food at a safe eating temperature. Plus, I can add other little containers for snackage when my body needs it.

So what does a Morri put in her bento box, you ask? Why, a ton of things, a ton of things indeed. I am all about variety and trying out new things, but I strive for nutritional balance for every bento, with tons of veggies, plenty of protein, and maybe a grain (like rice) or a root vegetable (like sweet potato). 

This recipe was something of an experiment, but a successful one. You’ve heard of lox on a bagel, right? How about lox in a spring roll?

How to make a spring roll (source)

I think what is so amazing about the concept of a spring roll is how flexible they are when it comes to taste and preparation. They can be sweet or savory. They can be raw, fried, or baked. A cashier at my local Trader Joe’s suggested using rice paper to make wontons (definitely on my to-do list, by the way). And really, your average spring roll is, with practice, very easy to make but also an elegant dish others will gush over.

 

Lox Sans a Bagel Spring Roll 

8 Sheets of rice paper (check label to see if it's gluten free)

16 Fresh basil leaves

4 oz (one package, typically) Wild smoked salmon, separated into eight parts

4 oz Cream cheese (I used soft goat cheese), separated into eight parts

1 Small red onion, diced

Sesame seeds (optional)

Take one piece of rice paper at a time.

Dip it into warm (not hot!) water for 5 seconds.

Place it on a plate.

Add basil leaves, smoked salmon, cream cheese (or any soft cheese you like), and diced red onion on the rice paper.

Wrap it up into a roll.

Sprinkle sesame seeds on top for garnish.

Makes 8 spring rolls. Serves 2 as a light lunch or starter.