entrenched habitsWHAT WILL YOU DO?
Begin to say “Yes, and…” to real food
Explore your supermarket’s produce section
Build a better pantry
Keep a one- or two-day journal
WHAT WILL YOU DISCOVER?
How to be open to possibilities
Tips for shopping and discovering even more real food, including international foods
How to take stock and evaluate it
It started out as small irritations during cooking demonstrations.
“Let me show you how to stem that thyme.”
“Aren’t you done chopping that onion yet?”
Then it grew into a low-grade war. All because Bruce was afraid I was going to screw up on camera and I was insecure enough to think he was going to show me up.
On NBC’s Today show, I actually heard myself say, “He’s showing you the cheffy way to do it. I’ll show you the real way.”
Mind you, Bruce is a trained chef. He knows the real way. I, the writer, have a more homey technique.
Our insecurities were getting in the way, as they always do. They stop growth. Flow too. Even fun. Who can take the long view, head down in fear?
We decided to fix the problem. I went into therapy and Bruce enrolled in improvisational comedy classes. (We all have our ways of coping.)
Improv taught him to stay fluid, accepting what came at him while making something out of it. One of the games he learned was called Yes, And. As he built a scene, no matter what anyone said, he had to answer with “Yes, and…” Like this:
Person 1: “I believe politicians are honest.”
Person 2: “Yes, and I’ve always wondered what planet you live on.”
Person 1: “Yes, Jupiter. And my whole family is in politics.”
It didn’t take us long to figure out that Yes, And was the perfect attitude toward food. Presented with something new, many of us back up. Or even walk away—only to fall into ruts. Like the same dinner every night, the same snack every afternoon: this take-out, that candy bar. That’s mostly fear—of change, of difference, of alternatives, of effort. In any case, it’s a sure way to remain closed to pleasure.
We’re born with few proclivities besides a drive for the sweet stuff found in our mothers’ milk.1 We don’t come into the world disliking spinach. We learn to. Believe it or not. Our mothers are afraid we won’t like it, we read the reaction in their faces, and we back up, suddenly fearful.
But that’s actually the good news. We learn—and can grow. Not long after our Yes, And commitment to food, I watched a real change happen with Bruce. When I met him, he didn’t eat anything that lived in water. Me? I love seafood: fried fish, lobster salad—but mostly sushi. At Japanese restaurants in New York, I’d order my favorites while Bruce chomped the chicken yakitori, carefully studying my reactions. (Think of When Harry Met Sally.)
One evening, he asked if I’d order him one piece of tuna. “But on your plate, not mine,” he said.
I was shocked but quickly complied.
He didn’t wolf it down, a childish urge to get it out of his mouth. Instead, he slowed down, really trying to savor it. He was clearly shocked at the velvety creaminess.
The next time, he asked me to order him two pieces of tuna.
Then one day, I watched him order sea urchin on his own.
“Did you know you officially like seafood?” I asked.
He nodded and took another bite.
We adults are neither a blank slate nor a filled-up canvas. We have pleasurable memories of the foods we love and the ability to lay down new tracks. What we didn’t like as kids, we might well like now, particularly once we detox from the excessive salt-fat-sugar shellac and if we follow our basic tasting guidelines: finding flavor overtones, chewing well, relishing a range of textures, and imagining other foods similar to the one we are eating.
When faced with a new food, do what Bruce did: prime yourself for a Yes, And reaction. First, take a deep breath and relax your jaw so there’s no tension. Take a bite, put your hands down, and open your mind. (If you really want to go all out, open your hands, too.) Close your eyes. And breathe deeply. You’re on your way to laying down new memory tracks by accepting bits and pieces of the full world of real food: fruits, berries, vegetables, herbs, seeds, grains, nuts, fungi, fish, mollusks, bivalves, shellfish, pigs, cows, rabbits, birds, sugars, and fats.
We have a friend who always turned up her nose at leafy greens. Once when she spent the weekend with us, Bruce was testing pizza recipes for a new book. One of the pies included Swiss chard, cherry tomatoes, and blue cheese. The flavors were complex, but the greens offered a bit of savory earthiness under the acid pop of the tomatoes and the creamy cheese. Our friend looked askance at the slice. “Okay, I’ll trust you,” she said before she took a bite.
We could both see the reaction. “Hey,” she mumbled, her mouth full, “I think I like Swiss chard.”
And probably more greens, too. Because with real food’s flavor overtones and textural range, everything leads to something else. If you like coffee, soon enough you’ll like red wine or mushrooms or Chinese black bean sauce, all because you find a common, mellow earthiness among them. If you like vanilla, you may well like cantaloupe, celery root, and buttercup squash. After Bruce learned to like sushi, he also lost his aversion to mayonnaise, probably because of flavor and textural resonances.
Still, many of us lead with fear and are severely limited when it comes to what we eat because of:
entrenched habits
what we find on the supermarket shelves
and the overgrowth of a food media in which chefs cook the same meal over and over again: a big sweating hunk of protein, a puny side vegetables, and a gorgeous dessert
Admittedly, we can’t do much about the third problem, other than to acknowledge it. But we can change the first two. We’ll save the second one for later in this step. Let’s take on the first, entrenched habits, right now. We’ll start with a few small changes. We’ll take three favorite dishes and tweak them slightly to make them even more enjoyable, opening our palates to new tastes.
Remember the first time you had a chicken breast off a grill, rather than out of a skillet? The new taste was probably a revelation. Here, we’re going to alter a classic salad with a similar twist. The lettuces are grilled to add a little char and a slightly sweeter mellowness. One little shift and your perspective changes, your enjoyment deepens. To make this a main-course entrée, add some purchased, cooked cocktail shrimp or the skinned and boned meat off a rotisseried chicken from the supermarket.
1. Prepare a grill for high-heat cooking or heat a grill pan over medium-high heat.
2. Cut both Romaine heads and the radicchio head in half through the root ends. Rinse out the inner leaves to remove any grit, then shake them dry over the sink.
3. Drizzle the oil over the cut sides of the lettuces, then set them cut side down on the grate directly over the heat on a grill or on a grill pan. Grill until lightly browned and a little wilted, about 5 minutes. Do not turn.
4. Transfer to a cutting board and chop into bite-size bits, removing the tough core at the root end. Place the lettuce shreds in a large serving bowl.
5. Whisk the vinegar, mustard, garlic, pepper, and salt in a small bowl. Pour over the lettuce, add the cheese, and toss well.
MAKES 4 SERVINGS
Another way to practice Yes, And is to add a new ingredient to an old favorite. In this weeknight recipe, Bruce has added a surprise: radishes. When cooked, they turn sweet, creamy, and sophisticated.
1. Heat a large skillet over medium heat. Swirl in the oil. Slip the chicken breasts into the skillet. Sprinkle them with half the pepper, then cook until well browned, 5 or 6 minutes.
2. Turn the breasts, sprinkle with the remaining pepper, and continue cooking until well browned on the other side, until an instant-read meat thermometer inserted into the thickest part of one breast registers 165°F, about 5 more minutes. Transfer to four serving plates.
3. Add the radishes to the skillet. Cook, stirring often, for 2 minutes.
4. Pour in the wine or its substitutes; bring to a simmer, scraping up any browned bits on the skillet’s bottom. Continue cooking until the wine has reduced to about half its original volume, about 1 minute.
5. Whisk in the vinegar and butter until the butter melts and thickens the sauce a bit. Whisk in the salt and divide the sauce among the breasts.
Note: There’s one trick to making sure chicken breasts are never overcooked—but it does take a bit more time. Mix ¼ cup kosher salt with 8 cups cool water in a large bowl, then submerge the breasts in the solution. Refrigerate for 2 to 4 hours, then remove the breasts from the brine and rinse before using. If you use this tip, omit the salt from this (or any) recipe.
MAKES 4 SERVINGS
Another way to open up to new possibilities is to explore the variety of a single ingredient—like mushrooms. By mixing rarer varieties with more economical ones, you’ll experience new flavors in an old favorite.
1. Heat a large skillet over medium heat. Add the oil and butter; tilt the skillet over the heat until the butter melts.
2. Toss in the shallots. Cook, stirring often, until softened, about 2 minutes.
3. Pour in all three types of mushrooms. Cook, stirring occasionally, until they give off their liquid and it evaporates to a glaze, about 7 minutes.
4. Add the thyme, red pepper flakes, and garlic; stir over the heat until very aromatic, about 15 seconds. Then pour in the wine, vermouth, or broth. Bring to a simmer, scraping up any browned bits on the skillet’s bottom.
5. Continue simmering until the wine, or its substitutes, has reduced to about two-thirds of its original volume, maybe 1 or 2 minutes.
6. Plop the cooked pasta into the skillet. Add the cheese and salt. Remove from the heat and toss well until the pasta is thoroughly mixed into the mushrooms.
MAKES 4 SERVINGS
Years ago, I lived in Austin, Texas, a few blocks from a grocery store billed as a gourmet’s heaven: aisles of small-batch products and a sign that once read Forty-seven varieties of apples!
Forty-seven? I was undone. And not much of an apple eater. I mean, I grew up down south, hundreds of miles from most apple orchards.
That day, I bought one each of many varietals: prairie spy, northern spy, Cox’s orange pippin, golden pippin, Bramley’s seedling, and Brownlee’s russet. By the next day, I was a committed apple eater because I had practiced a Yes, And life and had gone out of my way to find more possibilities, exploring a supermarket with a wider range.
Make this your goal, too. Spend a few minutes this week finding a supermarket with a better produce section—perhaps through an Internet search or by a friend’s recommendation. Will it take an extra fifteen minutes to get there? Maybe. But you’ll find more to explore—and therefore to enjoy. It need not be an expensive, gourmet supermarket; you simply want one that foregrounds a big selection of fresh fruits and vegetables, maybe even with a commitment to local growers.
Take a spin around the produce section and see what’s there. An apple or pear you’ve never heard of? Pick it up, look at it, smell it, study it.
Walk over to the lettuces, probably part of a whole wall. Some are bagged; others, in full heads. How many have you tried? Mâche, radicchio, baby oak leaf? Which ones have a distinct smell? Those will taste bigger, bolder, maybe astringent, maybe sweeter. They’ll probably need bolder dressings: creamy, with some cheese in the mix.
Look at the herbs, then check out the citrus. How would you prepare the new things you’re finding? How would you find recipes? And how would you enjoy the dishes?
Somewhere nearby, there are bins of aromatics, the foundation of almost all the dishes we cook, all members of the lily family. These are the basic four in any grocery store:
1. Onions. Yellow are mild; red, sweet; and white, assertive. Supersweet onions like Vidalias are of little benefit in cooking and should be eaten raw on burgers or in salads.
2. Shallots. You’ve already seen them a lot in Bruce’s recipes. They’re like a cross between garlic and an onion. Many come with two cloves per head (although there are single-clove varieties on the market as well).
3. Leeks. These long, skinny vegetables add an incredible earthiness to many dishes. When cooking, use only the white and pale green parts. Remove the root threads, then slice this bottom section in half lengthwise to carefully wash its inner chambers of sand before slicing it up.
4. Scallions. These have a bright, heady taste, spring in every bite. They’re fully edible (with the possible exception of those stringy root threads dangling off the lobe).
One way to practice a Yes, And life is to switch out one aromatic for another in any recipe: a sweeter red onion for a more astringent white one; some garlicky shallots for a yellow onion; some mellow leeks instead of shallots; some bright scallions instead of a blander onion. Of course, volumes change; but you can eyeball the difference in any recipe.
Now that you’ve visited that produce section and explored the possibilities, make this pledge:
I will do my best to try one new fruit, vegetable, meat, fish, food preparation, or recipe every week.
Maybe it’s hake, tarragon, or a kumquat. Maybe it’s that bottle of blueberry ketchup on the store shelf, a new breed of plum you’ve never seen before, or simply an ingredient prepared in a new way. Maybe it’s a recipe from this book or another cookbook.
Look to the future, anticipating pleasure. What foods do you imagine you’ll try in the weeks ahead? Are there things you’ve always wanted to give a whirl?
Will you be able to try one new thing every week? Maybe not. Sometimes life gets in the way. But the point is the commitment.
In a few short weeks, you’ll have a new set of tastes, new memory tracks, an ever-expanding palate, and a life open to change. But don’t stop there. Keep finding more. Yes, and…
Here’s the real reason to make this Yes, And commitment: when we expand our range, we eat less because we’re satisfied more quickly. Boredom clearly leads to overeating.2 And boredom extends to what’s on our plates.
Say you eat a big plate of salad greens for lunch, maybe with some tomatoes and cucumbers in the mix, all dressed in a vinaigrette. Chances are, you’ll be hungry in a few hours. The variety was dull; the satisfaction, limited.
But if you eat a plate that has a third of that salad, along with some tabbouleh (see pages 47–48) and a heaping spoonful of guacamole, you’ll be less hungry all afternoon because you broadened the range with lots of textures and flavors that together overturn boredom and lead to greater satiety. With more food choices, you’re satisfied more quickly at the table and you stay sated longer. That’s a winning strategy!
Eating the same thing again and again is palliative, about like taking a palate tranquilizer. Sure, I love mac-and-cheese. But there would be little point in eating it once a week. It would soon become a way to soothe fears and calm down not only my taste buds but probably my life, too. That’s not the point of food! That’s the point of a bath, or a walk, or a favorite movie while snuggled down in the den.
Food must not anesthetize. It has to stimulate. So push the boundaries a bit with recipes like these, full of tastes and flavors you might not have experienced. Choose one or two; make it a goal to experience something beyond the usual repertoire.
Here’s a supper that looks fancy but really isn’t since duck breasts are available in almost every supermarket. Look for plump, firm pieces of meat. Serve them with some mashed potatoes or an easy salad of sliced cucumbers and red onions, tossed with a little rice vinegar and toasted sesame oil.
1. Position a rack in the center of the oven and preheat to 400°F. Use a sharp knife to score lines to make a crosshatch pattern in the creamy, beige fat of the duck breasts, cutting down through the fat but not into the meat.
2. Put the breasts fat side down in a cool, oven-safe skillet; set it over medium heat. Cook for 6 to 8 minutes, until the fat has rendered out and the remaining skin is lusciously crisp.
3. Turn the breasts over and set the skillet in the oven. Roast until an instant-read meat thermometer inserted into one of the breasts registers 140°F for rare or 150°F for medium, about 5 minutes. (The meat should still have a pinkish hue, even when cooked to medium.)
4. Be careful: the skillet’s hot. Set it on the stove and transfer the duck breasts to a large cutting board. Drain the fat from the skillet. (Not down the drain, unless you’re on very good terms with a plumber. Instead, pour it into a disposable jar, then seal and discard it.)
5. Set the skillet over medium heat and swirl in the butter. Add the shallots and cook, stirring often, until soft, about 2 minutes.
6. Add the honey and thyme. Cook for 30 seconds, then pour in the wine or its substitutes, and bring to a simmer. Continue simmering until it has reduced to half its original volume, about 2 minutes. Stir in the salt and pepper; set aside.
7. Position the breasts on a cutting board so their narrower ends are to your left and right. Slice them into thin bits from one narrow end to the other. Divide these among four serving plates. Spoon the sauce on top.
MAKES 4 SERVINGS
There are two types of persimmons: the orange fuyu that can be eaten right away and the darker, squishier hachiya, which must be ripened through a hard frost. Make sure you get the fuyus, now common from California and sort of like a squat tomato with a sweet fragrance.
1. Toss the arugula with the oil in a large bowl. Spread onto a serving platter.
2. Top with the sliced persimmons, onion rings, and nuts.
3. Drizzle with the vinegar; sprinkle with salt.
MAKES 4 SERVINGS
Escarole is a bitter green, prized in Italian cooking because it turns wonderfully sweet over the heat. The heads can be sandy, so make sure you separate the leaves from the root ball to rinse them individually before chopping them. And here’s a surprise: this soup includes a poached egg in every bowl. For the best taste, make sure the egg yolks are still a bit runny so they’ll melt into the individual servings when broken.
1. Preheat the oven to 400°F. Wrap the unpeeled garlic cloves in aluminum foil, then bake until softened and fragrant, about 25 minutes.
2. Heat a large saucepan or soup pot over medium heat. Swirl in the oil, add the bacon, and sauté until browned and sizzling at the edges, stirring frequently, about 2 minutes.
3. Add the onion and carrot. Cook until the onion is pale but fragrant, stirring often, about 2 minutes.
4. Add the escarole and cook just until the greens begin to wilt, tossing constantly, about 2 minutes.
5. Stir in the broth, sage, and lemon zest. Raise the heat to high and bring to a full simmer.
6. Reserve ½ cup of the beans in a small bowl; stir the remainder into the soup. Cover the saucepan, reduce the heat to low, and simmer for 20 minutes.
7. Meanwhile, squeeze the roasted garlic pulp from its hulls into the bowl with the reserved beans. Add the lemon juice and mash with a fork until smooth.
8. After the soup has cooked for 20 minutes, whisk a small amount of the soup broth into the bean puree; stir this combined mixture back into the soup. Stir in the cheese and pepper.
9. Turn off the heat. Crack the eggs one at a time into a small custard cup or other small bowl and slip them into the soup. Cover the pot and let the eggs steep until soft-set, 4 to 5 minutes, depending on how runny you like the yolks.
10. Use a large ladle to gather the eggs up one by one from the soup, placing them in individual serving bowls. You may have to go fishing for them, but do so very gently so as not to break the eggs. Then ladle the soup into the bowls around the eggs. Sprinkle each with a little salt.
Note: Roasted garlic cloves can sometimes be found on your supermarket’s salad bar. If desired, buy six of these (so long as they’re soft) and skip step 1 entirely.
MAKES 4 SERVINGS
A grocery store is the best place to practice our Yes, And life.
However, it can feel like a maze: stacks in aisles, bins everywhere, meat that’s refrigerated, meat that’s not, produce at every turn, fresh, canned, and frozen. I asked Marion Nestle for her take on the matter. “Supermarkets are very large, have lots of products, arrange them in complicated ways, and are not much fun to navigate,” she said. “If you’ve got a routine that gets you out of there in some reasonable amount of time, I can understand why you would want to stick with it. Stores do everything they can to get people to linger, so you are fighting those marketing strategies. This means that every store encounter is a conflict between desire to get what you want and to get out of there.”3
While taking a Yes, And attitude to the supermarket brings greater satisfaction to the table, getting out is still the goal. With that in mind, let’s lay down two guidelines for our new shopping experiences:
Go in with a plan (a.k.a. a list). This will direct you to real food, helping you avoid the acres of the fake that take up so much real estate.
Don’t shop hungry. You’re more likely to pick up processed and packaged food, a ready salve for a grumbling stomach. You’re also more likely to go off your list, turning an eye to whatever looks good. Instead, go grocery shopping after lunch—or after breakfast on the weekend.
To get in and out while still staying open to at least one new thing a week, here’s what to look for:
We’ve already taken a spin around this section, but as you go back for more, keep in mind that produce should be fresh, fragrant, and delectable. If it doesn’t smell like much, it probably won’t taste like much. No amount of snipped herbs and cold-pressed oils will make up for bendy carrots, squishy lettuce, or woody asparagus.
Look beyond gimmicky packaging. On a recent trip, we found premade, packaged guacamole in an over-the-top festive container hanging from a clip in the produce section. We both rolled our eyes—then checked the ingredient list. To our shock, there wasn’t a preservative in the batch, not even citric acid. It was real food all the way!
Yes, be on the lookout for sales; but buy only what you will use. A big bag of oranges for a couple bucks is a great deal—but only if you will honestly eat the whole lot before they mold or desiccate into hockey pucks.
And while we’re speaking of spoilage, keep in mind that preprepped vegetables will not last as long as their whole versions. A container of cubed butternut squash can go soggy in two or three days; whereas a whole butternut squash can last a couple weeks. Still, the payoff of prepared veggies for a busy life cannot be underestimated.
And here’s another tip for a busy life: make a trip to the supermarket’s or your corner bodega’s salad bar when you need small quantities of vegetables. Does a recipe call for some shredded carrots? What about one celery rib? If you don’t want to buy the whole bunch, they may well be included in the salad bar. While these cost more per pound, you may also save money by buying a smaller quantity. Fifty cents for those two celery ribs from the salad bar is cheaper than $1.49 for a whole head that will only go boggy in the fridge.
This counter can be a disaster area for real-food mavens. After all, we can’t read the ingredient list on that big deli ham without making the clerk haul the thing out and plop it on the counter while we try to see the greasy label on the underside.
How can we make good choices? Keep this guideline in mind:
No part of a turkey, chicken, or pig looks like a football.
Instead, look for the in-store roasted ham, beef, turkey, and chicken: meat shaped like what it is—a roasted turkey breast on a platter, for example. And ask a few questions: How fresh is it? When was it roasted? What’s in the marinade?
Follow similar advice:
Look for cheese either in cuts and wedges, or sold as full wheels, logs, or pyramids.
What should you avoid?
1. Anything labeled as cheese food. Chances are, it’s not real food.
2. The spreadable stuff. With the exception of cream cheese, soft goat cheese, and a few other cultured products, no cheese is spreadable without lots of processing. We spotted a package called spreadable feta the other day. Sure enough, it was stocked with gums, acids, and natural flavors.
3. Precrumbled cheeses. Many are lathered with cellulose to keep them from clumping and then doped with natamycin, an antifungal agent that may have a negative impact on bacteria necessary for good digestive health. That said, preshredded mozzarella may well be a great time-saver, provided there’s nothing chemical in the mix. You know the drill: read the labels. The more informed you are, the better fed you’ll be.
This bewildering variety probably stretches along a whole wall, not to mention a nearby specialty case with prime cuts. It can lure us into a rut, the same-old-same-old.
Fight back! Switch out cuts of meat in favorite recipes, based on the amount of time they need to cook. Sure, there are subtle differences, but if you make a distinction between quick cookers (in five to fifteen minutes) and things that need a longer braise (more than an hour), you can begin to play around with your favorite recipes, tweaking them to find new tastes and experiences.
To make sense of what’s there and how long you’ll need to cook it, here’s a reference chart:
QUICK-COOKING CUTS |
LONG-COOKING CUTS |
Beef: flank steak, sirloin, strip steaks, rib-eye steaks, T-bone steaks, porterhouse steaks, tenderloin steaks (a.k.a. filet mignon), London broil, liver |
Beef: brisket, chuck roast, blade steaks, bottom round, ox tails, eye round, stew meat, shanks, whole tenderloin roast, standing rib roast, tongue |
Chicken: boneless, skinless chicken breasts |
Chicken: all other cuts |
Duck: breasts |
Duck: legs, whole birds |
Lamb: loin chops, rib chops, loin, sirloin, rack of lamb |
Lamb: shoulder chops, legs, stew meat, breasts, shanks |
Pork: loin chops, rib chops, tenderloin, bacon, boneless center-cut chops |
Pork: whole pork loin, ham, shanks, shoulder, Boston butt, belly, rib roasts |
Turkey: scaloppine, turkey London broil |
Turkey: whole breasts, leg quarters, wings, whole birds |
Veal: scaloppini, rib chops, loin chops (a.k.a. veal porterhouse steaks or veal T-bone steaks) |
Veal: brisket, legs, breasts, rib roast, stew meat |
Beyond that, remember that a package of beef should include only beef; chicken, chicken; pork, pork. Steer clear of fillers, additives, flavorings, and other industrial mishmash. Also, forget premarinated or prestuffed entrées, mostly doped with corn syrup, preservatives, and even artificial flavors. Instead, look for high-quality, straightforward meats. Do any marinating and stuffing at home.
Don’t be afraid to talk to the butchers. Ask what they like. Ask what’s fresh, on sale, a good value. If you’re in doubt, ask for a package to be opened in front of you. You’ll be able to tell if the meat is fresh at the first whiff.
Finally, skip the preground meats in the case. Instead, pick out a sirloin, turkey breast, or boneless country-style pork ribs and ask the butcher to grind them for you. Better ground beef makes for better meals.
You can judge a supermarket by its fish counter. If the fillets look mushy, if the shrimp is flattened, and if the scallops are sitting in a milky backwash, go elsewhere.
Other than that, keep in mind that fresh fish should smell fresh. Don’t buy packaged, thawed fish, sealed under plastic wrap. How can you tell if it’s fresh? If you must, have someone open the package so you can take a whiff.
But also check out the fillets, scallops, and shrimp in the freezer case. Although that array on the counter’s ice may look fantastic, most of it was flash-frozen at catch. The shrimp has most likely been defrosted in the back. Better then to go buy the big bag of frozen shrimp and thaw it yourself, saving money all the while. There’s little reason to buy the already thawed stuff unless there’s a direct claim to its being never frozen or it’s 6:00 p.m. and you have no time to let something defrost before dinner. In this case, pay for convenience, not aesthetics.4
Is anything better than whole milk or yogurt? Besides the taste factor, there’s even a nutritional benefit to the full-fat stuff. Certain vitamins like A and D are fat soluble.
Full-fat dairy is so rich and pleasurable, it can bring satiety faster—if you slow down to feel the cues. However, dairy is often treated as food on the run: milk on cereal as you’re trying to get out the door in the morning or yogurt as a snack at your desk midafternoon. Even cheese can be an afterthought with little added taste, the way it was on our burgers by the mall.
There’s no doubt: dairy is real food. But for heart health and weight control, it may well be best to choose low-fat dairy offerings. Read those labels! Better to have more fat than a bunch of chemicals and a metallic tang on the tongue.
However, there are two, thick, fat-free yogurts that hit the spot:
Greek-style yogurt, prestrained of its whey to be thick and luscious
Skyr, an Icelandic fat-free yogurt cultured until it’s rich and decadent, sort of like very soft cream cheese
A supermarket is an apartment building; every producer rents shelf space. The guy who pays the most gets the prime position at eye level.
Are many of these products real food? Of course. But don’t miss what’s in less-prime real estate. The turbinado sugar is often on the bottom shelf; the nut oils, up top. To try one new thing a week, you have to look up and down.
You’ll also find an amazing number of international products. Back in the day (and we’re talking the mid-eighties), olive oil was exotic, hard to find in neighborhood supermarkets. Nowadays, almost all supermarkets have one if not several international aisles, stocked with the basics from around the world. This is good news for real-food lovers! You can expand your palate, press the boundaries further, and create new food experiences right from your neighborhood grocery store.
But remember the real-food rules: read those labels on international products to make sure that, say, the Chinese bean sauce you’re buying has no chemical preservatives or fake-out shenanigans. Then say, “Yes, and…” to the wider world of food by whipping up some international favorites right from your local supermarket. Here are six recipes to get you started:
This Egyptian spice-and-nut blend can be used as a dip for whole wheat pita bread or celery sticks. It’s a great condiment to serve on the side of a plate of salads and vegetables, a way to add more flavors and thus more pleasure to the meal.
1. Preheat the oven to 325°F. Spread the nuts on a large, lipped baking sheet, then set them in the oven and roast until fragrant, about 5 minutes, tossing occasionally so they don’t burn on any one side.
2. Transfer the walnuts or pecans to a large food processor fitted with the chopping blade. If you’re using hazelnuts, spread them on a clean kitchen towel and set aside for 5 minutes to cool—then ball up the towel with them inside and rub it together to remove most of their papery skins. Transfer to a large food processor, leaving the skins behind in the towel.
3. Place the coriander seeds, sesame seeds, cumin seeds, peppercorns, and fennel seeds in a large skillet set over medium heat. Toast, stirring often, until fragrant, about 3 minutes.
4. Pour the spices into the food processor. Lock on the lid and pulse a couple times. Add the oil and salt; process into a grainy paste. Scrape into a bowl and serve, or store in the fridge, covered, for a few days (but let it come back to room temperature before serving).
MAKES ABOUT 8 SERVINGS
There’s a cult following for these tacos across all of North America. You’ll need thick-fleshed fish fillets that can be sliced like steak. Look for tortillas either in the refrigerator case of your market or in the bread aisle, sometimes fresh from a local Latin American bakery.
1. Mix the cabbage, onion, cilantro, vinegar, jalapeño, honey, cumin, salt, and pepper in a large bowl. Set aside while you prepare the fish.
2. Heat a large skillet or grill pan over medium heat. Rub 1 teaspoon oil over one side of the fish, then coat it with half the chile powder. Repeat with the other side of the fish.
3. Swirl the remaining 3 teaspoons oil into the skillet or pan, then add the fish and cook until the meat inside is opaque, 7 to 9 minutes, turning once.
4. Clean and dry the skillet. Set it back over medium heat. Add the tortillas one by one, warming them up until pliable, about 30 seconds per side. Alternatively, heat the tortillas in a stack in a microwave on high for 30 seconds, then turn the stack over and heat on high for another 30 seconds. In any case, stack them on a plate, then slice the fish against the grain into long pieces. Serve all these things separately—the slaw, the tortillas, and the sliced fish—so everyone can build their own tacos at the table.
MAKES 4 SERVINGS
Here’s the dish Bruce was creating when I caught him in a state of flow (see pages 74–75). Don’t be put off by the number of ingredients (or the tofu): this aromatic, Sichuan braise is terrific comfort food. By cutting the vegetables into tiny bits, you can get several in each spoonful. Serve it over brown rice for a new comfort-food favorite.
1. Mix the ground meat with the soy sauce, Shaoxing or sherry, and sesame oil in a small bowl. Set aside.
2. Heat a large wok over medium-high heat. Add the peppercorns; toss and stir them over the heat for 1 minute.
3. Add the ground meat and all the liquid in the bowl. Stir-fry, tossing constantly over the heat with two wooden spoons, until the meat loses its raw, pink or red, color, about 2 minutes.
4. Add the scallions, carrot, celery, garlic, ginger, and hot bean paste. Stir-fry for 20 seconds.
5. Pour in the broth; stir over the heat until it comes to a full simmer. Cover, reduce the heat to low and simmer for 10 minutes.
6. Add the tofu and stir gently. Simmer for 1 minute.
7. Stir in the cornstarch mixture. Bring to a simmer, stirring gently, just until thickened, about 20 seconds. Turn off the heat, stir gently one more time, then let stand for a couple minutes to infuse the flavors.
Notes: There are three unusual ingredients in this dish.
First, Shaoxing wine is a low-alcohol rice wine, found in the Asian aisle of most supermarkets. In a pinch, substitute dry sherry or even dry vermouth—or reduced-sodium chicken broth. Once opened, Shaoxing can stay in a dark, cool pantry for several months.
Second, Sichuan peppercorns are the seeds from a citrus plant grown across Asia. A more esoteric ingredient, they can be found in Asian markets or from online sites. Store a bag of them in your freezer for up to two years. You can substitute fewer black peppercorns, but the taste will be less aromatic, sharper, and far less refined.
Finally, hot bean paste is a fairly traditional condiment, found in the Asian aisle of almost every supermarket. Once opened, store it covered in the fridge for up to six months.
MAKES 4 SERVINGS
Most stir-fries are finished with a range of condiments that provide the depth and heft that long-cooking gives to braises. Prep all the ingredients before you begin to work over the heat. Serve this stir-fry over wilted greens, such as spinach or kale—or over brown rice.
1. Whisk the soy sauce, hoisin sauce, vinegar, and honey in a small bowl until the honey dissolves. Set aside.
2. Heat a large wok or high-sided skillet over medium-high heat. Swirl in the oil, then add the scallions, ginger, garlic, and red pepper flakes. Toss and stir over the heat for a couple minutes, until the scallions have begun to soften a bit, about 2 minutes.
3. Add the broccoli florets. Stir-fry until crisp-tender, about 2 minutes. Stir in the bell peppers and shrimp. Keep tossing and stirring over the heat until the shrimp are pink and firm, about 3 minutes.
4. Pour in the soy sauce mixture; bring to a simmer. Cook, stirring constantly, a few seconds, until everything’s coated.
Note: In the Asian aisle of your supermarket, look for bottlings without emulsifiers, food starches, and thickeners.
MAKES 4 SERVINGS
This simplified version of a Persian classic should be served over couscous, a North African grain preparation. It’s found near the rice or dried beans in almost all supermarkets. Buy a plain, unflavored version. The pomegranate molasses is truly the secret here, binding all the flavors and brightening them considerably.
1. Heat a Dutch oven or a heavy French casserole over medium heat. Swirl in the oil, then add the chicken, in batches, if necessary, to prevent crowding. Brown on both sides, about 8 minutes per batch; then remove to a platter and continue browning more pieces.
2. Pour off all but about 1 tablespoon oil in the pot. Stir in the pearl onions and walnut pieces. Cook, stirring often, until the pearl onions begin to brown a bit, about 4 minutes.
3. Sprinkle the flour, marjoram, salt, and pepper over the ingredients in the pot. Stir well for about 20 seconds.
4. Pour in the broth in a very slow, steady stream, stirring all the while so the flour dissolves as the broth is added. Bring back to a simmer, stirring often.
5. Pour in the pomegranate molasses; add the squash cubes. Stir well, then nestle the chicken pieces into the pot. Pour in any juices from their platter.
6. Once the sauce is at a simmer, cover, reduce the heat to low, and simmer slowly until the chicken is cooked through and the squash is quite tender, about 1 hour 20 minutes.
Note: Pomegranate molasses is pomegranate juice reduced to a thick, sweet, sour syrup and used as a basic flavoring in many Middle Eastern dishes. Look for it in the international aisle of most supermarkets.
MAKES 6 SERVINGS
Although we think of this fiery stew as an Indian dish, vindaloo is actually Portuguese (vinho = wine vinegar, ahlos = garlic). It was introduced to the subcontinent through Goa, a trading port. Call it cultural payback: Indian cooks turned it into a fiery farrago too hot for those colonialists—except when it is pure bliss on a chilly evening. Yes, there are lots of dried spices here, but a well-stocked spice cabinet is a promise of better meals in the future. You’ll be on the lookout for other recipes that will give you a return on your investment! (Like our Vegetable Biryani, see pages 51–53, or our Dried Apricot and Chicken Tagine, see pages 53–54.)
1. Mix the salt, dry mustard, coriander, cumin, ginger, turmeric, cayenne, cinnamon, and cloves in a small bowl. Stir in the vinegar to create a paste.
2. Heat a large nonstick saucepan over medium heat; swirl in the oil.
3. Add the onion and cook, stirring often, until softened, about 3 minutes. Add the ginger and garlic; cook just until aromatic, no more than a few seconds.
4. Add the prepared spice paste; cook, stirring like crazy until aromatic, about 20 seconds. Stir in the broth and raisins. Bring to a full simmer; then reduce the heat to low, and simmer, uncovered, for 10 minutes.
5. Add the shrimp, raise the heat back to medium, and cook until the shrimp are pink and firm, stirring once or twice, about 3 minutes.
Note: For a great twist, serve this dish over cool cucumber noodles. To make these, take a vegetable peeler and peel a cucumber; discard these tough strips, then keep going, making long “noodles” from the vegetable as you run the vegetable peeler down its length, turning it as you go to get the flesh off every bit, right down to the seedy core. Throw this out, then start again with another cucumber. Toss the noodles with some rice vinegar and they can be a cooling bed for this fiery stew.
MAKES 4 SERVINGS
Since you’ve gotten into exploring your supermarket, it’s time to start building a better pantry. Over time, of course, and within economic reason. Why? Because:
You’re more likely to experiment with new ingredients at the supermarket if you’ve got a pantry of possibilities at home—to pick up some fish you’ve never heard of and get it on the table by sautéing it in a little pecan oil with some dried herbs, for example.
If you already have a well-stocked pantry, it won’t seem so onerous to cook real food on a regular basis.
A well-stocked pantry is a source of pride—and so will bring you even more pleasure through the dishes you’ll make.
Consider buying a pantry staple or two every week, building up a storehouse of possibilities. As always, read those labels and remember that once opened, many condiments should be refrigerated. Here’s a basic list to get you started—and keep you going!
|
BASICS |
LUXURIES |
Oils and fats |
Unsalted butter (refrigerate), a sturdy olive oil, a toasted nut oil (refrigerate), and an untoasted nut oil (refrigerate) |
A delicate, high-end olive oil, toasted sesame oil (refrigerate), and avocado oil (refrigerate) |
Vinegars |
Rice vinegar (not seasoned with added sugar), balsamic vinegar, white wine vinegar, apple cider vinegar |
Red wine vinegar, white balsamic vinegar, aged balsamic vinegar, and infused vinegars (beware of those with added sugars, corn syrup, or artificial flavorings) |
Sweeteners |
Varietal honeys, maple syrup (refrigerate), unrefined sugar |
Unsulfured molasses, muscovado sugar |
Whole grains |
Rolled oats, long-grain brown rice, wheat berries, quick-cooking bulgur |
Quinoa, wild rice, pearl barley, short-grain brown rice, medium-grain brown rice |
Whole wheat flour, unbleached all-purpose flour, yellow or white cornmeal |
Whole wheat pastry flour (for cakes and such), wheat bran, oat bran, wheat germ (refrigerate after opening) |
|
Dry goods and staples |
Dried beans, canned beans, dried lentils, whole wheat pasta, reduced-sodium canned tomatoes, fat-free reduced-sodium chicken and vegetable broths, reduced-sodium tomato paste, baking powder, baking soda, cocoa powder, vanilla extract, no-refrigeration-needed silken firm tofu, at least one variety of shelled nut (store in the freezer) |
Jarred roasted red peppers, jarred capers, rice noodles, canned low-fat coconut milk, semisweet chocolate, dried fruit (raisins, figs, and/or apricots, for example), dried chiles, dried bread crumbs |
Salt and spices |
Kosher salt, fine-grain sea salt, whole peppercorns (with a grinder), soy sauce, ground cinnamon, bay leaves, curry powder, dried basil, dried dill, dried oregano, dried rosemary, dried thyme, ground cumin, mild paprika, red pepper flakes, dried sage, cayenne, chile powder |
Green peppercorns, Sichuan peppercorns, Asian fish sauce, caraway seeds, cardamom pods, celery seeds, dried marjoram, cinnamon sticks, whole cloves, ground cloves, dry mustard, nutmeg (buy whole and grate on a microplane), ground allspice, ground ginger, smoked paprika, sesame seeds (store in the freezer), star anise pods, turmeric |
Condiments |
Dijon mustard, bottled hot pepper sauce |
Coarse-grained mustard, hoisin sauce, Worcestershire sauce, fruit chutney, pickled jalapeños |
Taking the long view involves not only laying down new memory tracks for future pleasure but also knowing where you are right now. Sure, you know what you’re eating: this peach, that fish fillet. And you may even remember it a few days later—if it was really good. But you’re most likely missing out on the big picture.
Get this: people who routinely take stock of what they eat on average weigh less than those who eat without forethought.5 To be aware is not to have less pleasure. Instead, being conscious is the way to greater pleasure—in every avenue of life!
So over the next day or two, even as you begin to open up to new foods and recipes, write down both what you eat and when you eat it. Be as precise as you can. Don’t just write a stir-fry. Rather, write a stir-fry with about 4 ounces of chicken, lots of broccoli, some red peppers, and a sweet/sour sauce. If you’re eating out, you may not know what went into the dish. Ask the waiter. If he or she doesn’t know, do the best you can.
But before you start, here are a few ground rules:
Dump any guilt or shame. Don’t worry if it’s not what you think it should be. Just get as complete a record as you can, taking the chart with you during the day.
Don’t change what you eat just because you’re writing it down.
Don’t get demoralized. You’re going to find patterns so you can improve them and enjoy food more.
Consider doing this with a cohort: your spouse, friend, sibling, whomever. That said, you don’t have to show each other your charts. This isn’t a confessional! Following is the chart. Copy it down. Don’t get obsessive, just accurate.
Bruce is sort of a nonstick guy; he avoids blame at all costs. So I sprang this journal on him one night when I casually said, “Tell me everything you ate today.”
Here are our combined results:
|
FOOD JOURNAL FOR WEDNESDAY, MARCH 25 |
||
WHEN WE ATE |
WHAT BRUCE ATE |
WHAT MARK ATE |
7:00 a.m. |
|
Breakfast at home: ½ cup homemade granola with ½ cup fat-free milk 1 large latte made with 3 shots half-caf espresso and 1/3 cup fat-free milk |
8:30 a.m. |
Breakfast at home: 3 pieces Whole Foods multi-grain walnut cranberry bread 2 tablespoons apricot jam 1 tablespoon natural-style peanut butter 1 large latte made with 2 shots half-caf espresso and 2/3 cup fat-free milk |
|
12:30 p.m. |
Lunch at home: 1½ cups homemade carrot ginger soup mixed with ¼ cup cooked wheat berries 4 ounces smoked pork loin, ¾ cup purchased sauerkraut, ½ medium red-skinned potato (leftovers from dinner the night before) One large glass of seltzer with ice |
Lunch at home: 1½ cups homemade carrot ginger soup mixed with 1/3 cup cooked wheat berries 3 ounces smoked pork loin, ½ cup purchased sauerkraut, and ½ medium red-skinned potato (leftovers from dinner the night before) One large glass of iced tea with lemon |
1:30 p.m. |
1 cup fresh-squeezed tangerine juice |
|
|
1 small pot black tea |
|
3:00 p.m. |
Snack: one ½-inch-thick slice homemade banana bread |
|
5:00 p.m. |
Snack: one cinnamon raisin bagel plus an iced coffee made with brewed decaf and ¼ cup fat-free milk |
Snack: two ½-inch-thick slices homemade banana bread with 2 teaspoons unsalted butter |
6:00 p.m. |
Snack at knitting group: 1/3 cup homemade Indonesian wheat berry and carrot salad |
|
8:30 p.m. |
Dinner out at an Italian restaurant: 3 gherkins 3 green olives 2 pepperoncini 2 wedges Italian bread One 12-inch pizza made with 2/3 cup broccoli, ½ cup boneless, skinless white meat chicken, caramelized onions in olive oil, crumbled bacon, and marinara sauce (no cheese) One 12-ounce bottle of beer |
Dinner out at an Italian restaurant: 3 green olives Pasta dish with penne, Italian sausage, roasted bell peppers, caramelized onions, mushrooms, garlic, olive oil, and grated Parmesan (about 2½ cups total volume) Two 5-ounce glasses of red wine 1 mint hard candy 1 cup espresso |
Just by writing it all down, we could see patterns. My caffeine intake was way up. True, I was under lots of deadlines. Still, I was downing too much coffee and tea.
And what was with the snacks? How many did we need in a day? We were eating constantly after lunch. Bruce didn’t even tell me about the bagel and coffee until I pressed him. He was reticent, a sign something was amiss.
For more answers, we did a very scary thing: we sent our chart to a nutritionist. And boy, were we ever surprised at what she had to say.
Joyce Hendley is everything a nutritionist should be: kind and caring, without judgment. Once the food editor for Weight Watchers publications, she’s a fellow contributing editor at Eating Well magazine.
Here were her remarks:6
1. She complimented us on eating together. “So important,” Joyce said, “for getting pleasure out of your meals (rather than just fueling up).”
2. She also complimented us on eating breakfast. She even encouraged Bruce’s jam habit. “Jam makes breakfast feel like a treat, not dieting,” she said. She also said I didn’t eat enough. I never thought I’d meet a nutritionist who would tell me to eat more! “Add a piece of fruit and you’ll probably be less hungry at lunch,” she said. “It might be better psychologically to eat a bigger volume of food [at breakfast]—for example, have some creamy yogurt with that granola. Or what about an egg?”
3. Joyce urged us to eat more dairy. She said that we, like most Americans, are using the milk in our coffee as the dominant source of calcium. She suggested yogurt as a snack. She said our bones would thank us, especially later in life.
4. She also urged us to look more closely at how many fruits and vegetables we were eating, then increase those and complement them with occasional treats: a glass or two of wine, for example. In fact, she asked us to see more of our food choices as treats: olives, wine, beer, bagels, banana bread. “Banana bread doesn’t count as fruit,” she said.
5. Most of her comments were saved for our lunch—which she found too large. “Are you working in the fields?” she asked. In fact, she said that our lunch’s heft accounted for snacking in the afternoon. “A big lunch is ultimately energy-draining—it takes a lot of energy to digest that food; so unless you plan for a siesta, your energy levels will likely fade. I sense that was happening as you both tried self-medicating (Mark with banana bread, Bruce with snacks and later coffee). Self-medicating with snacks, of course, doesn’t really solve the problem. Bruce was eating every two hours after lunch and mostly carb-rich foods.”
6. She also advocated planning ahead. If we knew we were going to eat at an Italian restaurant, we should have had lots of veggies and even low-fat dairy during the day to balance out all the carbs in the pizza and pasta dishes. In other words, pay attention!
Now you can spot some definite trends among your entries, using Joyce’s advice as a guide.
1. Pretend for a minute that the food journal isn’t yours. What dominant patterns emerge? When do you get hungry? What’s your schedule?
2. What about the breads and pasta? Are you having cereal for breakfast, a sandwich for lunch, and pasta for dinner? Remember: carbs are essentially sugars. When refined (cereal flakes, white bread, white pasta), they are pretty empty of any nutrition. Are there any whole grains in your mix? (We’ll come back to this in the next step.)
3. Look for the fruits and vegetables. Are you getting enough? Think of a small apple as one serving. How can you get in eight or nine of these a day? Maybe by having a plum with breakfast, a few carrots as a snack in the afternoon. Or plan on a peach for a midmorning snack, the veggie wrap for lunch, an extra side of veggies with dinner instead of having any bread, and a small, 4-ounce glass of freshly squeezed juice in the evening as your dessert.
4. Are you giving yourself a few treats during the day? A bit of jam with that toast? Some cheese for breakfast? Don’t just think sweets. Try savory pickles, olives, or a small bit of goat cheese midafternoon.
5. Watch the random eating. Notice when it’s happening. Then go back to the meal before. Was it too large and so led to snacking? Or was it too small, just a salad without any variety of textures and flavors—and thus nothing really satisfying in it? Hunger can be the response to both overeating and undereating.
6. And finally, how much of the food came from your own hand? How much of it did you prepare? And how much of it was truly pleasurable?
Here’s your taking-stock schedule for better health and more pleasure:
Once a month: keep a food journal for a day or two.
There’s no need to do this every day or even every week. Instead, keep the journal, get a good take-away (I need to eat more fruit, so I’m going to commit to a piece every afternoon as my snack), then drop the monitoring until the next time. Soon enough, you’ll find that you’re eating better because you’re more aware of what you’re eating without being overly vigilant.
And once a week: step on the bathroom scale.
It’s crucial to understanding where you are. Besides, people who weigh themselves at regular intervals statistically weigh less than those who don’t.7
Weighing yourself can be very scary, so keep a few tips in mind:
1. Weigh yourself only once a week. Yes, there may be some weeks when your weight will fluctuate because of water retention or illness. You’ll know the difference.
2. Do it at the same time every week: Thursday morning before breakfast, for example.
3. Wear similar clothing (or nothing at all!) every time.
4. Write down the number. I keep a small notebook in the bathroom with a pen nearby. Don’t rely on your memory; it can get cloudy for lots of reasons.
I did it. I stepped on the scale. I didn’t want to. Didn’t want to so badly that I neglected, in my late forties, having a physical for three years, all because I didn’t want to step on the scale at the doctor’s. I was endangering my health to save a little pain.
So I did it at home. Yes, it was bad. But you know what? Within two months, I had that physical. And had already lost 22 pounds.
All because I weighed myself? Of course not. Bruce and I had begun to make better, real-food choices. But keeping track was part of it. A food journal once a month, a weigh-in once a week—these are two things that can pay off big-time.
And also make up the long view, which includes both the future (new foods you’ll enjoy, new memory tracks as the basis of pleasure for future meals) and the present (where you are, what you’re doing).
But notice what we didn’t include: the past. Because today is the change and tomorrow is the satisfaction. Yes to all that is, and yes to all that can be. Yes, and…
