Tomatillos
Aug. 24th, 2007 09:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
I have to let people know, in case they like tomatillos as much as I do.
I made pollo verde tonight, as referenced earlier, and I have to say the tomatillos I picked up at Youngstock were some of the most pristine, lovely specimens I have ever seen. Well, apart from the ones I grew about ten years ago.
See, tomatillos are pretty inconsistent. They're sorta like little green tomatoes, but they grow this sticky substance on their skins and over that is a papery husk. The husk grows first, and the fruit grows and ripens inside. Needless to say, without peeling back that husk, there is no real way to tell the condition of the fruit within... except by feel, and that's a little chancy on its own. Many are the times I peeled a tomatillo to find the fruit underneath damaged by insects, fungus, or poor handling. So even though there were little flies buzzing around the tomatillo bin at Youngstock, I grabbed some anyway.
The flies, by the way, are attracted by the sticky film on the fruit.
Well, I have to say, they were all perfect, each and every one. The insides were bright white, unstained by rot, and they glistened like snow as the juice came to the surface of the cut edges. The skins were unblemished, glossy, and brilliantly green, not the sickly yellow-green one sometimes gets. So, if you like tomatillos, go to Youngstock. They're AMAZING.
While you're there, pick up some of the pee wee avacados, too. Just the perfect size!
In other news, I spent a while looking in the mirror, peering deeply, looking for even the smallest signs of weight loss. I could use the encouragement. I thought there might be a slight lessening of the fat in my face... the stuff that makes me look so babyish. I thought maybe I looked older... not as in aged, but maybe more refined. Not as much like a demented Cabbage Patch Kid.
I know it's too early. But I need a little something, something to tell me that I'm on the right track.
The traces that I thought I saw likely aren't even there. They're probably evidence of either optimism or wishful thinking. My upper arms are still like plastic bags full of pudding draped over my real arms. I can feel my real arms in there, muscled and lean, but still soft. The rigid bicep, still cloaked in almost an inch of fat that shouldn't be there, that isn't me. That's how I feel; as if all this extraneous flesh is some sort of alien intruder, subsuming my real body. As if I'm wearing a ridiculously realistic fat suit. I hate it. I hate it with a revulsion that I've only felt before in nightmares. It drives me to not eat... to feel virtuous and defiant hunger for days.
I resist that urge, but sometimes it's hard to make myself eat. That worries me.
I made pollo verde tonight, as referenced earlier, and I have to say the tomatillos I picked up at Youngstock were some of the most pristine, lovely specimens I have ever seen. Well, apart from the ones I grew about ten years ago.
See, tomatillos are pretty inconsistent. They're sorta like little green tomatoes, but they grow this sticky substance on their skins and over that is a papery husk. The husk grows first, and the fruit grows and ripens inside. Needless to say, without peeling back that husk, there is no real way to tell the condition of the fruit within... except by feel, and that's a little chancy on its own. Many are the times I peeled a tomatillo to find the fruit underneath damaged by insects, fungus, or poor handling. So even though there were little flies buzzing around the tomatillo bin at Youngstock, I grabbed some anyway.
The flies, by the way, are attracted by the sticky film on the fruit.
Well, I have to say, they were all perfect, each and every one. The insides were bright white, unstained by rot, and they glistened like snow as the juice came to the surface of the cut edges. The skins were unblemished, glossy, and brilliantly green, not the sickly yellow-green one sometimes gets. So, if you like tomatillos, go to Youngstock. They're AMAZING.
While you're there, pick up some of the pee wee avacados, too. Just the perfect size!
In other news, I spent a while looking in the mirror, peering deeply, looking for even the smallest signs of weight loss. I could use the encouragement. I thought there might be a slight lessening of the fat in my face... the stuff that makes me look so babyish. I thought maybe I looked older... not as in aged, but maybe more refined. Not as much like a demented Cabbage Patch Kid.
I know it's too early. But I need a little something, something to tell me that I'm on the right track.
The traces that I thought I saw likely aren't even there. They're probably evidence of either optimism or wishful thinking. My upper arms are still like plastic bags full of pudding draped over my real arms. I can feel my real arms in there, muscled and lean, but still soft. The rigid bicep, still cloaked in almost an inch of fat that shouldn't be there, that isn't me. That's how I feel; as if all this extraneous flesh is some sort of alien intruder, subsuming my real body. As if I'm wearing a ridiculously realistic fat suit. I hate it. I hate it with a revulsion that I've only felt before in nightmares. It drives me to not eat... to feel virtuous and defiant hunger for days.
I resist that urge, but sometimes it's hard to make myself eat. That worries me.
no subject
Date: 2007-08-25 05:30 am (UTC)I am really proud of you. This diet thing is immensely hard, and I am enjoying seeing you work through it!
Kudos!
no subject
Date: 2007-08-25 05:44 pm (UTC)The tomatillos sound heavenly. I have found (and here's me, off the wagon for about a week now) that substituting salsa for fattier things is really delicious. Believe it or not, I'm no longer tempted to put cheese on my mexican food. Unless, of course, that cheese is in quesadilla. Then I'm toast.
By the way, if you happen to go out to eat, my favorite thing to order (even when I'm not trying to watch my weight) is the veggie enchiladas at Mi Mexico. There is a small amount of queso fresco on it, but mostly it is delicious for the grilled veggies inside and the carrot based enchilada sauce. And also I'm kind of crazy about that cabbage salad on the side, but I think that comes with everything there. It's on the back of the menu with lunch specials, but they will serve it to you any time of day.
My suggestion to you is to start measuring your arms, waist, bust and thighs. I know you are walking a lot while you are dieting so it is likely that you are replacing fat with muscle, and just don't see it on the scale! Are your clothes fitting differently? That's another good marker.
You make me feel very inspired, Allie. Like I may just get back ON the wagon today. Keep it up!
no subject
Date: 2007-08-26 03:01 pm (UTC)it might be an unnecessary added expense, but one of those body fat scales could also be VERY handy. they might not be 100% correct, but they are consistent (if you weight at exactly the same time of day, and are similarly hydrated), so you can track your lean body mass too.
looking in the mirror and not smashing it and then me is one of the hardest things. every time i catch a glimpse, even dressed to the nines and feeling good, the ton of bricks that falls on me reminding me that: hey, still a big ole fattie! well, it brings a body down pretty low.