This just in from Obvious Central

A word of warning to the colonally-challenged who may not know otherwise*:

Despite whatever awesome medications/infusions/disease regulation you may be using, Lentils will slow the train way, way down. I am not lying.

In case you still want to brave some pulses, I recommend the Moosewood Cookbook's lentil soup. It's directly responsible for my temporary, er, stoppage. There's also a really good vegetarian split pea soup recipe in there.

The thing I like best about her soups (so far) is that you can make them with water instead of broth. This is the first cookbook I've owned that says that.** Hurrah! No more stock cubes. No more cans and cans or waxy boxes that sit in the back of the fridge till I have to throw them out. I say no more.



<sup>* Anyone? C'mon, really? Okay, fine. As usual, it's JUST ME.

** As you can probably tell, I don't own too many cookbooks.</sup>

Minimal gut rumblings

I made this the other night:

Quick zucchini sauté from Smitten Kitchen.

Nuts and vegetables! Vegetables not cooked to a tenderness closer to mushiness! It was a daring gamble, my friends, but I took it. I cooked the zucchini just a bit longer than called for, and I not only browned the hell out of those almonds, but I chewed them very thoroughly, too.* It was delicious, and my gut did not rebel too much. (There was a tiny bit of partially undigested zucchini action in the toilet the following evening, but TINY. Like, smaller than a Colazal capsule. Really.) I hesitate to recommend it, since I'm not flaring anymore and therefore I'm not as reliable to those of you who are, but if you can tolerate nuts, go for it. If you can tolerate a few nuts, add as many as you think you can take. If not, just make the zucchini and add the cheese. Much better than steamed/blanched zucchini.


^{*Sometimes thoughtful eating can be tedious. Best done with a book or a film, preferably a book because you don't have to turn it way up to hear the soundtrack over your crunchy mastication.}

Sweets to the Sweet, or, How to gain back that thigh weight after your flareup, just like your favorite size 0 actress readying for a serious role!

Caramel Sauce
1 cup butter or margarine
2 1/4 cups brown sugar
dash salt
1 tsp vanilla
1 cup light corn syrup (yep, 1 cup. Try not to die)
1 cup sweetened condensed milk (which you can make, see below)

Melt butter with sugar and let cook on low for a bit, stirring. Add everything else and stir until cooked and combined. Don't let it boil, but you should get all the grains of sugar dissolved. It can get thick. Pour over apple slices or banana slices or vanilla ice cream. Don't think about your arteries or pertinent organs. Think meat on bones and sugar and oh-god-the-goodness-it-is-disgusting.

To make the milk and really know how gross this recipe is: combine 1 cup powdered milk, 1/3 cup boiling water, 2/3 cups granulated sugar and 3 T butter in a blender. The Suzy Homemaker version beats Eagle Brand in the can every time.

Come on, it's GOOD when your thighs touch. It's sexy!

More flare food

The flare seems to be calming a bit. I can leave the house (i.e. the place with a reliable bathroom within sprinting distance) for more than an hour, I can make it to the bathroom at work without sprinting, I can even - dare I say it in a post largely concerning food and pictures of food? Oh yes - I can even fart again. You don't know what a pleasure that is until you lose it, folks. To fart without fear of pants-crapping is truly divine. Not exactly a G.I. Joe lesson, but one we IBD folks can carry throughout our lives and call on in time of need; like, say, someone does a aging Joe reunion movie sort of a la The Dark Knight Returns meets Bubba Ho-Tep meets To Riverdale and Back Again and in it Cobra Commander realizes he can finally achieve world dominance by stealing every last package of adult diapers and Imodium AD.

Anyway, I made more soup. These were a little harder on the gut than the chicken noodle, given they're comprised primarily of vegetables rather than broth, but the pureeing helped a lot. Also helpful: drinking a gallon of water or so with each bowl.

Both recipes are from The Art of Simple Food by Alice Waters, which I picked up at the library. If your library doesn't have it and you don't want to buy it, use Interlibrary Loan and get the most out of your local library. Ahem. To get back to the book, Waters has a lot of nice recipes, and a lot of good soup ones in particular. I made her Tomato Soup and her Leek and Potato Soup. I also made these after a regular eight-hour work day, if that helps. Although most of them are as it says on the can, simple, some of Water's recipes are more complex than others; but these two have really short ingredient lists and the chopping prep is the most time-consuming part.

A somewhat incomplete story told (mostly) in pictures:


Sautéing the leeks in butter.


Adding the bay leaf and thyme.


Adding the potatoes.

Unfortunately I got a little too hungry to waste time taking pictures, so that's all the documentation for the leek and potato soup. A. and I ate it over the week with toasted boule bread. Without further ado, here's the tomato.


I halved this recipe, so it only made two servings. Kind of a waste of time spent cooking, I suppose, but I'm not big on tomato soup and neither is A., so one meal is plenty.


Chopped onions and leeks.


Cooking with tomatoes, bay leaf and thyme.


Blending! I also ran it through a food mill after the food processor, to strain out the seeds and the peel. It was thicker than I would have liked; next time I'll add more water. A. and I ate this with grilled cheese sandwiches, milk, and another gallon of water.

The flare verdict for both of these was less than perfect. The leek and potato was easier on the gut than the tomato, but while I spent time on the toilet due to both them, I still felt more nourished than if I'd gone the chicken broth route.

Off to bake and cook the afternoon away. On the roster: ginger snaps, 60-minute rolls, and caramel sauce. I know, I know: why IS my flare lasting so long, you guys?