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Every magazine and catalog, every ad on the telly, every outdoor banner and every storefront follows the same old script at this time of the year.
Embrace the Warmth. Seek The Comfort, Behold The Joy.
All I have to say is that it is that time of the year when I Suspend The Diet, Ignore The Exercise and start eating and drinking like a malnourished pig, promising myself to get back into the swing of things as soon as the last candied pecan disappears from my pantry.
Most years we join the 38 million individuals who traipse across this country braving traffic snarls, cancelled flights and cranky relatives to consume 5000 calories in one sitting. This year we decided to stay home and….you got it, Savor the Season.
As I write this, a big bird brines in the refrigerator. The Boy is buying out the local liquor store. I am finishing up a forgotten work assignment and have a sudden urge to eat an entire jar of fig preserves.
And with that dear reader, I give you my heartfelt thanks. And a recipe for a delightful Native Cranberry Chutney.
Traditional With A Twist.
Now given that I had taken this class exactly three times before, it shouldn’t have made a darned difference. But never one for passing up on opportunities, I picked up my car keys, ready to dash back home. Only I couldn’t get past the door.
For there she stood. Spiky, short, ash blond hair. Bright pink pants. Silver hoodie. And old enough to be my grandmother (ok, I exaggerate – perhaps an old auntie?). The All-New Zumba Queen. Mother.
I turned around nonchalantly, feeling pretty smug. She was one of Those Types. She would ask us to march in place for 30 minutes and gently sashay around for another 30. I could totally handle this.
Off came the hoodie. My heart sank. There was only lean muscle underneath that tank top. Thankfully the pants stayed.
The routine started. I had barely made it through the warm up when she cranked up the volume and started to bounce around like a vintage pogo stick. I slowly started to feel like a bunch of wilted spinach in an outdoor vegetable market on a hot summer day (yes, I always think of food).
As the hour drew to a close, I was praying for a tranquil cool down. As if she read my mind, she folded her hands in prayer.
Were we doing a quick yoga routine? Yay!
I recognized strains of the Oscar-winning Jai Ho! from the soundtrack of Slumdog Millionaire.
This was not yogi-music.
She began to grin. Not a “thanks for coming to my class” grin. But one that bordered on euphoric hysteria. Or was it hysterical euphoria?
This was not looking good.
She started doing squats to the riff. Moved on to a manic mambo. And then lunged across the room at the first Jai Ho!, still grinning and praying.
I made for the door. And once home, fell upon a plateful of paneer bhurji that I had the foresight to make earlier. This is also my entry for my very first blog event JFI – Paneer, hosted by Cardamom.
What next, salsa to Sonu?
We set off to spend Halloween at a friend’s, armed with a tray of spicy chicken wings and a stuffed tiger (a plush toy, lest you think I was experimenting with Asian twists for my upcoming Thanksgiving dinner.)
Nervous about the possibility of being stuck in Friday evening traffic for the next three days, The Boy insisted that we pick up a snack on our way out. The snack being a rather substantial order of Mesquite BBQ ribs. This was followed by a dinner that included a sumptuous shepherd’s pie with minced lamb and the aforementioned spicy chicken wings.
The following afternoon we ate gourmet beef burgers. More ribs. And sausage. In the evening it was a Cuban themed Halloween party at another friend’s place (read pork and more sausage).
And as if our arteries weren’t clogged enough, I made beef chili to round off the weekend, still reeling from the many Mojitos.
I am sure I have left out a species or two.
Needless to say by the middle of the week I was craving Simple. Vegetarian.
I chewed on asparagus spears. Drank a large bowl of tomato soup. Ate a garden salad. No dice.
And then as I surveyed my pantry in despair, I struck gold. Simply simple dal. I ate it with steamed rice, a dot of mango pickle and a bowl of yogurt.
A couple more meals like this and I will be ready for the Filet Mignon this weekend.
