By far the most accessed article on this website is the post Eggplant Pros & Cons, written during a period when I was consuming an unpresidented amount of eggplant and began to be worried about toxicity.  As an article, it is boring, and I remember very little of the information contained therein.  Nevertheless it receives approximately 17 times more traffic than any other post.  I thought, if I were to give the Internet what it apparently wants, I would stock my site full of cost-benefit analyses of various foodstuffs, stick some clickbait ads on there, and wait for the magic to happen.  Except that this sounds like possibly the most tedious job in the world, and I could probably still make more money waiting tables.

Pros & Cons inspiration did not strike again until the day when I was buying a half-gallon of Silk unsweetened cashew milk for my lactose-intolerant husband, and the bearded stranger in front of me in the Co-op checkout line volunteered that he never eats cashews because of the toxicity.  A public service announcement, I guess.  Even while I felt scornful about his food-paranoia, his warning nagged at me.  I was trying to take care of my husband's health by reducing his obviously inflammatory milk consumption; what if, instead, I was slowly poisoning him with a concentrated brew of expressed cashew toxins?

Two or three months passed during which I continued to buy cashew milk for my husband, did no further research, and witnessed the sudden downfall of our democracy.

​This morning-- a Saturday morning in December, just before the electoral college ratifies the unthinkable-- I sat with my husband, eating a breakfast of bacon & eggs, toast and clementines, and drinking hot chocolate made with cashew milk.  Please be advised: hot chocolate is NOT as good with cashew milk, though I have made it with almond milk and that is fine.  For the first time, I thought to tell my husband of the bearded man's earnest warning.  My husband scoffed.  After all, he smokes, doesn't exercise, and has an unhealthy devotion to cheeseburgers.  Is it really likely that cashew milk will take him down?

I don't know.  So here goes:

​Cashew milk (the unsweetened kind), compared to cow's milk, is low in calories, fat and sugar, but also low in protein.  It also has a lot of Vitamin E.  Raw cashews are unsafe to eat due to a chemical called urushiol-- also found in poison ivy-- which can cause skin rashes and is toxic if ingested.  However, the cashews sold in stores as "raw" cashews are actually steamed, rendering them edible.  Silk cashew milk is made from cashews which are roasted before being ground and used to make "milk," so overdosing on urushiol is a non-issue.

Beyond personal health, however, the exposure to urushiol inherent in cashew harvest and processing means that excessive cashew consumption may have ethical repercussions, as described in The Telegraph:

So there's that.  I can't determine where Silk's cashews are sourced (notably absent from their FAQs, which provide this information re: soybeans and almonds).  I would normally just give up, but in this new age of activism it occurred to me that I could ask them, so I wrote to inquire.  Will let you know if they answer. [UPDATE: Silk says that their cashews come from "Africa, Brazil and Vietnam."]

Now that we have concluded that cashews are safe, if possibly unethical, to eat, I have a few words about another current American dietary trend, our toxic friend Donald J. Trump.

An asshat, yes, you say, but a dietary trend?  What do you mean?

Just what I say.  After the election, we spoke of five stages of grief.  But, as far as I can currently tell, there have been only two stages of eating.  1) 48 hours or so (your experience may vary) of total loss of appetite, during which we had to remind one another to drink water and nobody cared if they had a splitting headache or were subsisting on a couple of handfuls of Ritz crackers.  2) A sustained, not-yet-over period of frantic stress-eating, legitimized widely by Anne Lamott confessing the same on Facebook, but shared by many, characterized by a massive intake of carbs (and sometimes alcohol) and a sudden absence of regard for one's own health or even vanity.

At some point it occurred to me to drink some bourbon, and it was like the best thing I had ever tasted.

The "Trump 10" is apparently a real thing.

And it's not just quantity, it's quality too.  I don't feel like cooking.  While broccoli still tastes great when it magically appears on my plate, I have stopped bothering to serve a salad with my pasta.  Too much trouble, and who cares, really?  We've taken to eating frozen burritos, frozen vegetables, accidentally-vegan macaroni-and-"cheese" out of a box.  I buy candy, and chips, and donuts.  This cannot be good for me, or us, or the world.  Also, I don't want to become a drunk.  

This is true toxicity, this hopelessness and insecurity and downright fear and dread that we feel.  The unhealth of Trump's own food choices has somehow become contagious, even while all his other choices are ones we repudiate.  At this rate, on January 21, the date of the Women's March, a sea of bloated, sad faces will fill the streets of Washington D.C., and we will march uncomfortably in our tight pants.

I have no solution to this.  There are so few ways to make myself feel better these days, so few routes to pleasure-- which is different from happiness, now inaccessible.  Pizza is accessible.

Tonight my husband and I will go to the bad diner.  This is the one we choose when we're feeling low-energy, like after a long, horrible weekend day at work, or when we are sick or our cat has died.  The food is unreliable and the coffee weak, but there is absolutely no pressure there.  You can eat with your coat on if you're feeling chilled, or hunch over the table with eyes closed; the waitresses know us.  My husband can get a cheeseburger.  

Someday I hope we are well again.

​

FDA Warns Against Eating Cookie Dough, But Not Because of Eggs
This story is a bit old by now, but flour sits on our shelves for a long time.  Apparently E. coli contamination of raw flour is potentially widespread.  It had never occurred to me that this was even possible with dry goods.

Out Here, Up Here
Includes the best kitchen tip ever, from Nikki McClure via Orangette:  soften butter by wedging it in cleavage.
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​There's a Price to Pay for Not Eating America's Ugly Seafood
Americans are only comfortable with certain types of familiar seafood, many of which are imported and/or overfished.  Meanwhile, other local ocean food resources are wasted or sold overseas.  What would buying local look like when it comes to seafood?



Discomfort Food: Using Dinners to Talk About Race, Violence and America
Chef Tunde Wey organizes dinner parties with diverse (but predominantly black) guest lists, to discuss race, social justice, and personal experience. “There was some sort of obscenity to the whole thing, this foodie movement,” he said. “You eat at one of these new restaurants with small plates, and the food tastes good, but it’s not saying anything. What it’s saying is just, ‘Look at me.’ It’s self-referential. That’s where the obscenity comes from: when you can say nothing, surrounded by so much to say.”

 
Unsponsored opinion: these Fig & Olive Crackers are like one of the best things I've ever eaten in my life.  And I got them on sale at Whole Foods for $4.99!  (Which seemed like a lot, until I saw that Amazon is selling them for $11.59.)

​My kid is greatly amused at "men's" versions of everyday products, such as bath grenades or Bounce fabric softener for men, so when I saw Men's Pocky at the HMart, I had to buy some.

June 14
Breakfast: lemon water, coffee, smoothie made from limeade, ricotta cheese, hemp protein powder, blueberries, frozen peaches, frozen strawberries, and kale.  This tastes good when I first try it, but once it sits around a while the texture becomes lumpy.  I think the limeade curdled the ricotta.  Fortunately, I bought my husband some nice big stainless steel straws for our our anniversary ("silverware" being one of the traditional 5th anniversary gifts), and these make it easier to ignore the texture of our smoothies.

Mid-morning, I am in Silver Spring and have half an hour to kill before picking my kid up early from school, after a morning exam.  The most convenient spot to buy a coffee near my parked car is the Tastee Diner, so I do something I don't normally do these days: go in and take a table by myself.  For $3.98 (plus tip), I have a decaf coffee and "a biscuit" (but, when it arrives, it is two biscuits), with butter and jam.  Quite a deal.  I read a book.  It is fun.

We get home about 10:30.  A slow morning.  After finally showering, I have another cup of coffee around noon and get to writing.  Lunch after that: a leftover chicken leg, an attempt to reproduce the British "bacon roll" with soft white bakery toast, butter, and leftover cooked bacon from last night, and leftover asparagus.  This was a lot of heavy food and the whole "bacon roll" thing just didn't taste quite right.  It is no wonder that the scale says I have gained 5 lbs. since last Thursday.  While this seems physically impossible, there is no doubt that I have been doing my best.

Afternoon shopping (Co-op) [note that this trip is when I found the "Man of God" LED clip-on light]: raspberry lemonade, organic pear juice, can cat food, organic roasted cashews, 3 rolls toilet paper, bananas, strawberries, fresh sage, swiss chard, 2 local peaches, 2 avocados.  $38.  I feel vaguely queasy from my lunch.

​After shopping, I put the chickpeas on to cook for Madhur Jaffrey's Swiss Chard with Tomatoes and Chickpeas, and turn my attention to other matters until they are done, 2 and a half hours later.  At a more reasonable dinnertime, I prep the rest of the vegetables for this dish and stick a couple of red peppers in the oven to roast.  As Jaffrey suggests, we eat the chard dish with a crusty wheat bread, two kinds of Italian cheese (an aged piave and a fresh asiago), and roasted red peppers.  This is a pleasant meal; the bread-and-cheese board on the table is always popular when it appears at my house.  I don't do it that often because, in order to control portion size, I tend to plate my family's meals in the kitchen.  (This works well for us, except the part where kid tends to waste about 1/3 of the food on their plate.  However, they do this even when they have served themselves.)  I like the chard, especially the prep tip that suggests slicing the pretty red stems fairly small and cooking them along with the leaves.  It's striking how much this adds to the visual attractiveness of the dish.  I have also discovered, as I noted in a previous post, that I greatly prefer the texture of these long-cooked greens recipes when the pot is not covered.  It requires adding some extra water, but the final texture is much less gelatinous.

​Have I forgotten to mention that I've been drinking a glass of wine most nights with dinner, or after dinner, for the past week or so?  I have leftover bottles of both red and white wine open (as well as sherry.  How long does sherry keep?  Anecdotal answers range from one week to forever (I think the people who said "forever" might have been my parents).  Tonight I have white wine.
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Also, the last two mint chocolates.  And I am hungry again before bed, so have a little more bread and cheese.
 
June 15
A regular work day.  Breakfast: lemon water, coffee, smoothie made from raspberry lemonade, plain Greek yogurt, hemp protein powder, almond butter, blueberries, banana, and CSA lettuce.  I had another cup of decaf coffee (lightened with heavy cream of late, as I finish up the cream from the cheesecake) before work, and another one once I got to work.  I was hungry.

Lunch when I got home at 2:45 was regular coffee, the last leftover chicken leg from Friday night, and leftover asparagus.  Then I had to rush back out again in order to take my kid to a brief doctor's appointment.  Home again 4:45, more decaf coffee, reading, a very short nap, housework.

I started dinner about 6:30-- a use-up-what-you-have-in-the-house sort of affair.  We had an egg scramble with CSA kohlrabi and garlic scapes, cilantro and the last of the fresh asiago cheese; also fruit salad made with blueberries, strawberries, raspberries and the first good peaches of the year; and white bakery toast with cream cheese and the blackberry jam we bought at the beach.  Also I had a glass of red wine.

​June 16
No work today; my last day at home before my husband and I go on a three-day weekend trip to Shenandoah National Park.  We've been looking forward to it.  But I have lots to do today.  I have the usual breakfast, unusually early (husband woke up at 5:15 for some reason): lemon water, coffee, smoothie made from pear juice, hemp protein powder, avocado, banana, blueberries, strawberries, and CSA red lettuce.  This was a particularly pleasant one.  Nothing weird.

After showering and dressing, another cup of decaf while I get to work on my computer.  That's the last of the heavy cream; kind of a relief. 

By lunchtime, my kid is home from their last final exam (goodbye, 9th grade!) and I have a couple of errands to do in town, so we go out for lunch at our local Thai restaurant, eat outside at a table on the sidewalk.  Kid orders up a storm, and I have a garden roll (fresh veggies and rice noodles wrapped in rice paper, peanut dipping sauce), an eel-and-avocado sushi roll, and a pomegranate lemonade, of which I drink half (kid finishes it).  Somehow we manage to spend $46 on lunch.  And it wasn't because of me, just saying.

When we get home, I have coffee, and in the afternoon, there is another cup of decaf, of course.  I can't say what I was doing; husband and I are going away for a long weekend tomorrow, and this day is a blur in retrospect.  Always so much to do to get ready.

Shopping (Co-op): toothpaste, pantiliners, quart of Brown Cow plain fat-free yogurt, 4-pack of Q ginger ale, hair de-frizzer, quart of Brown Cow vanilla yogurt, Knudsen "Mega-Antioxidant" juice, bottle of Pinot Grigio, coconut water, organic fusilli pasta, goat cheese, 2 packages organic spaghetti, 2 individual cups lactose-free plain yogurt, baking soda, multigrain English muffins, coffee, 2 lemons, shredded parmesan.  $80.

For dinner, I fix some fusilli pasta with sauce made from things I need to get rid of: canned plum tomatoes, fresh sage, fresh tomatoes, garlic scapes, red wine.  We sprinkle some goat cheese on top, but this turns out to be a mistake, because the goat cheese tastes slightly rancid.  Goddamn co-op, which is terrible about keeping on top of product freshness.  I paid like $6.50 for that cheese.  Side salad of mixed lettuces, cilantro, strawberries, balsamic vinaigrette.  Glass of white wine.

All right, all right.  Who needs a recipe to make a smoothie?  Nobody, that's who.  By definition, a smoothie is just a bunch of stuff you throw in a blender.  Nevertheless, a year or so ago, I was staying with my parents; my mom was starting to go through chemo for a non-Hodgkins lymphoma (she's okay); and smoothies were recommended as a way for her to effortlessly take in some extra calories.  For my 80-something-year-old stepfather, for whom smoothies are not part of his daily experience, you would have thought the nurses had recommended he feed her on homemade Beef Wellington.  I gave demos.  My stepfather watched carefully, frowned.  They bought an immersion blender.  Still, it was rumored that , after I left, smoothies did not get made until my mom felt enough better to go back into the kitchen.

So maybe it IS rocket science, after all.  I will say: I work at a restaurant that sells a variety of fresh blended juices, fruit-and-yogurt drinks, and milkshakes.  Sometimes a customer comes in and asks for "a smoothie," and looks perturbed when asked to elaborate further.  What might they be looking for in their smoothie?  Do they just want fruit and ice and such?  Do they want yogurt and milk?  Do they want something with ice cream?  The weird part is, some of them don't know.  They are accustomed to ordering a "smoothie," and having not the faintest idea what they are putting into their mouths.

While smoothies can take an infinite variety of forms, the following basic formula is how I go about making a smoothie.  I generally make about 32 oz. of smoothie at once, which is enough for two tall glasses, one for me and one for my husband.  Also note that we treat these smoothies as a meal, not a beverage.  Therefore they have enough calories for a light meal, and always contain some fat and protein.  If you make a habit of drinking them as a beverage in addition to a meal, you will get fat.

Basic formula:

• 2 c. liquid, such as nut milk, soy milk, coconut water.  For a while I used juice, but my husband found that the sugar content was making him feel queasy.  Cow milk does not agree with us too well, so I rarely use that.
• About 2 t. protein powder.  I do not like the texture of protein powder, so I keep it minimal, but add a little for the nutritional boost.
• Fat.  This is necessary to make the smoothie filling.  An avocado, a couple tablespoons of nut butter, canned coconut milk,  or sour cream are all good candidates.
• Enough fruit and vegetables to fill the blender to the 4 c. mark.  The fruit can be anything you desire and/or want to use up: bananas, mangoes, berries, peaches, melon, kiwi, cherries, pineapple.  It is nice to use a little bit of frozen fruit, as it chills the smoothie.  A few leaves of leafy greens ( e.g., spinach, lettuce, kale) really give the smoothie depth of flavor as well as beneficial nutrients.  Remember to remove tough stems and ribs from leaves such as kale.
• Optional: yogurt, anything else you are looking to use up.

Here are some examples of smoothies that followed this basic formula, and ended up being exceptionally tasty:

Coconut-Lime smoothie:
1 3/4 cups coconut water
1/4 c.  limeade (or use all coconut water and a little lime juice if you want to cut the sugar)
1 whole avocado
1/4 c. plain Greek yogurt
2 t. protein powder
1/2 c. fresh blueberries
1 small mango, or 1/2 a large mango
about 3 leaves kale, large ribs removed
 
Fruity Pear smoothie:
2 c. pear juice
2 t. hemp protein powder
1 avocado
1/4 c. blueberries
1 banana
half dozen or so strawberries
a few leaves of red leaf lettuce
 
Classic Strawberry-Banana smoothie:
1/4 c. coconut water
1 3/4 c. cashew milk
1/2 c. vanilla yogurt
1 c. canned coconut milk
2 t. hemp protein powder
1 banana
half dozen strawberries
 
Peanut-butter-Banana smoothie
2 c. almond milk
2 t. hemp protein powder
3 T. peanut butter
1 banana
1 small mango (or 1/2 large mango)
1/4 c. blueberries
1/4 c. frozen peaches
a few small leaves of romaine lettuce, or 1-2 large leaves
 
 Super-Vanilla Fruit smoothie:
1 3/4 c.vanilla soy milk
1/4 c. vanilla almond milk
1/2 c. vanilla yogurt
2 T. peanut butter
1/2 large mango
1/2 c. frozen strawberries
1/2 c. blueberries
1/4. c. cantaloupe