Tuesday, January 13, 2015

Fasting Day 13 - And Then There Was Cake.

My whole life, since childhood, I've been measurably overweight to some degree. Say, roughly 10-15% more than I should weigh at any given time and, really, it has never given me much cause for concern. That’s just how I’m built: I've got a head that’s big enough to make hat-buying difficult, my legs fall asleep on me at the most inopportune moments and I’m a little overweight. On the flipside, I’ve made it to 36 without needing glasses, am probably never going bald and can do this neat party trick where I spit bubbles. Ya win some, ya lose some. I'm at peace with all of this. 

Still, perhaps with the onset of age, it has occurred to me that it will be easier to drag my ass about as I get older if I don’t weigh more than necessary.

It is for that reason that, 13 days on, I’m still doing this fast that started on New Year’s Day. Or rather, it is going on now – there was a hiccup of sorts over the weekend in the form of a 24 hour cheese and cake and booze binge – but still!

Unfortunately, those 24 hours made a fair chunk of my initial fasting stretch all for naught. In the first 9 days, I lost 11lbs. That’s a good but unsustainable clip. The problem with losing weight like this is that it usually involves triggering some kind of chemical reaction in your body in response to some shock to the system. I’d try to explain this, but I’d only be pretending to know about things I don’t truly understand. That may get me by in the office, but you guys deserve better. So, it should suffice to say that my body spazzed out and started dropping weight to the tune of just over a pound a day for a week and a half.

And then, Miss Meathead and I threw a “Christmas in Hawaii” party (16 days after Christmas, mind you) and it all went to hell. .

For munchies, I’d made this Queso dip – a dish that needs no introduction to my Texas readers but, for the rest of you- Queso –the Spanish word for cheese – is just that. A dish of melted, gooey, nacho type cheese, usually loaded with sautéed chilies and the like, scooped up with chips (british=crisps). It’s a perfect party food because it makes you thirsty which makes you want to drink more which makes you want to eat more, and so continues the virtuous cycle.

Is melted cheese Hawaiian? I dunno. Hawaiians eat cheese right? Close enough.

If that weren’t enough, Miss Meathead got her baking hat on (she doesn’t have an actual baking hat but really should) and made not one but 2 oven baked delights. One was a batch of these wicked coconut and lime buttercream cupcakes (yea baby), and the other was a spectacular banana nut bread cake thing that also had nuts, pineapples and cherries. She made two of those, one to share, and one which we wolfed down all day Sunday to the exclusion of all other foodstuffs.

Coconut/Lime/Butter Cream Cupcakes a la Miss Meathead

I wish I had taken some pictures of the Queso and the banana cake, but as it was a party I was too busy making an ass of myself. I've put the link to the recipes down below if you fancy having a go.

Anyway, after just 12 hours, I’d put on 4 POUNDS – seriously. That chemical reaction had some kind of internal nuclear meltdown and bam, 1/3rd of what I’d lost was right back in half a day. And you know what? It was worth it, fasting be damned. 

And anyway, I've come to realise that this whole fasting experience is about more than just losing weight. In fact, 3 genuine but unexpected benefits spring to mind thus far in the process:

1.       After an initial lull, I have more energy than I did before. I’m not sure what to tie that too – the loss in weight, reduction in carbs, being amped up on caffeine to get me through it all. I don’t know, but when my day at the office is coming to a close, I’m ready to do shit like paint walls and that was just not the case before.

2.       Reduction in appetite.  This took a while, and still some days are easier than others, but I’ve genuinely had less cravings on average than I do throughout the day. Doesn’t mean I love food less, but I think on the back of this I’d be a bit pickier about what I do eat. And don’t get it twisted: I don’t mean just eating carrot sticks and whatever the latest super-berries are and shit like that – I just mean that I wouldn’t necessarily jump at any ol crappy, WH Smith's tuna sandwich just because I hadn't eaten in a few hours. 

3.       An appreciation for what I'm lucky to haveThis is kinda tied in to the point above. Every day, at least once per day, I feel truly, desperately hungry. And even still, I know I’m not starving. More to the point, I know I can stop this whenever I want and walk down the road and buy whatever I want to eat and put this whole ordeal behind me.  But what of those who can’t do that? What of those who don’t eat every day and couldn’t even if they wanted to because they don’t have the means? Not because they’re lazy but because they had the dumb luck to be born in a place where food and water isn’t so readily available, or because they’re unable to afford it because there is no work for them and no social program to see after their health? Sometimes, I catch myself whining to Miss Meathead about wanting a taco or how the McRib had to come back while I’m doing this dumb fast and how unfair it all is – and I actually feel a little ashamed. Here I am, with more than I could ever need, and all I can think about is that I don't have a surplus. Meathead, you asshole.

I'm not sure how, but I'd like to build on this resolution and, somehow, some way, ease the hunger of my fellow man.

Riiiiight after I get that Mcrib.

Til then,

Peace to all, and eat well.

-Meathead.

Recipes:

Queso (by the way, this lady's blog is awesome for stuff like 
this): http://www.homesicktexan.com/2008/04/more-natural-chile-con-queso.html

Banana/Nut/Pineapple/Cherry Cake:  http://allrecipes.com/recipe/hawaiian-banana-nut-bread/

Coconut/Lime Cupcakes: http://www.goodtoknow.co.uk/recipes/529115/coconut-and-lime-cupcakes

Tuesday, January 6, 2015

Burger Brothers (Brighton, England) - Set Face to "Chomp"

If you weren't looking for it, you'd walk right by without noticing it was there. Burger Brothers lives within a tiny shop front whose bright lime green exterior blends sensibly in to the colour splashed Brighton cityscape. 

As it happens, I actually was looking for it, and with great anticipation at that. Being new to the area, I relied on the interwebz to guide me to the best eats in town, and more than one site spoke of this place as if it were the second coming of Burger Jesus.




In the spirit of full disclosure, I should you, loyal readers, that on my first trip there I was as pissed as a parrot ("drunk" to you good folks in the US). That said, I maintain everything I'll say from this moment forward as I've been back since to confirm my initial findings in a clearer state of mind.

On the windows of Burger Brothers are some stickers about being voted the UK's favourite burger. Now, I'm not one to be swayed by a simple sticker, but they had two of them. Two! Anyway, I put that aside with a healthy scepticism and walked in, where I was greeted by a guy named Pip. Pip and his buddy are the operators of Burger Brothers (I'm not sure if they're actually brothers and have never thought to ask). They're young fellas - Londoners (I think?) who've been doing their own food for a while and are as friendly as can be.

There was one dude in line, already at the counter, studying the menus  with a wrinkled brow. He finally looked up, only to ask "What would you recommend". Calmly, Pip says "I recommend you review your options and make an informed decision"....30 seconds in and I already knew I liked this guy.






Finally it was my turn. The chalkboard menu laid out my choices - and I zero'd in on the Classic Beef, which had beef (duh), cheddar, baby plum tomatos, mustard, relish mayo and caramelized onions. On top of that, I added Prosciutto (from their options of Serrano and Chorizo) and their home made Pepper Punch chili sauce.






In just a few minutes, my burger was boxed and ready to go, cheerfully handed over with a caution that a toothpick ran through the middle. Pip never fails to mention that toothpick, no matter how many times you go in there. But I understand. You just know some dumbass has bit into that toothpick before.

Off I went to try this burg out in the privacy of my apartment. The nights drink had caught up to me as I got there. I stumbled in, threw my clothes off and sat on the ground, ready for one of those sloppy, post-pub eating sessions which, lets face it, are just the best way to eat.

 Before I continue, let me tell you something about myself.  I have been studying hamburgers for as long as I've been eating. I'd eat them every single day if I wasn't afraid of having to eventually bathe myself with a rag on the end of a broomstick. I've travelled the world eating burgers - a Burgernaught, if you will. With that experience behind me, I can tell you without hyperbole that this burger was one of the best I have ever eaten, anywhere. I won't say THE best because I think that's like saying the best band. There is no 'best band', there are awesome bands and shitty bands and everything in between. Same with burg's, but man it is up there. Easily would need to be included in any Top 5 list I'd make for the UK and Top 10 worldwide. .




The bun is just what a burger bun should be: Soft, so that when you bite into it your mouth can't tell where the bun ended and the patty began. The prosciutto added this great subtle saltiness along with a a texture that just danced with the rest. The patty was cooked perfectly, not too thick, not too thin, medium rare. It was truly extraordinary.

I would recommend that Burger Brother virgin first timers start with this burger, if only because its the only one I can actually vouch for. I get the exact same burger every time and it has never failed me. With that said, try whatever ya want - I can't imagine it wouldn't be great, these guys really know their shit. Oh, and let me know if you go get one - I want one too.

Here, check'em out on Facebook:  Burger Brothers

Until next time,

Peace!

Meathead







Monday, January 5, 2015

Hot Damn, Empanadas in England.

It hasn't escaped me that in the 5 days since Meathead Eats has risen from the ashes, I actually haven't yet written about food.  I've been so caught up in this fast that I'm on, I've purposely ignored the food world because it was all too painful to think about.

And yet, think about it is all I can do. Honest to god, my  own mind is taunting me with an endless stream of food related memories, like an imaginary oasis in a desert of my own creation., I can almost taste the dishes, but fall short, face first into the dry and dusty reality. Did I take that desert analogy far enough? Okay then, lets move on.

Instead of ignoring these urges, I'm going to share them with you, faithful readers, as that's ultimately what I'm here to do, is share any and all bad ass food I find so that you can go try it too. I will spend these next last 5 days of fasting by highlighting my greatest temptations of the day and the things I will be eating as a priority once the fast is over. And, let me tell you, when it is over,  I am going to tear through town like Godzilla with a rabid case of the munchies - hitting up all the food I've loved before with a renewed sense of passion.

Not all at once, because that would mean this fast was for nothing and that would be dumb. But, when I do go, I'm going to savour every bite and think what it would be like if I couldn't eat it again. Come to think of it, maybe that sense of appreciation for the food we have - not a universal luxury - is an under-valued benefit of fasting.

So now, on to the grub!

Today, my minds eye was stuck on these things I stumbled upon by pure chance the other day in Brighton, in a place called "Wheat & Beans".  I just popped in needing a quick bite without a clue as to what kind of food they sold. The first thing I saw was something in their window called "Santiago Cake" and, friends, if that isn't the gentle nudge of destiny, I don't know what is.

Once in, I heard the familiar tongue of my family (Spanish) from behind the counter and on the counter I saw....drum roll please... Empanadas!!! That was worth all 3 exclamation points because empanadas are just something I didn't think I'd find in the UK. Though, having said that they are - for my non-hispanic readers - very close to Cornish pasties.

(In fact, there is a very real link between the Cornish pasty and the empanada, in that British miners who worked in mines in Mexico brought pasties with them, their hard rind perfect for miners because they can hold them with their coal dust covered hands and then throw away the rind without poisoning themselves. This mixed with local grub and each influenced each other)

THESE empanadas, however, seemed different than any I'd seen before. The shells (?) had these sweet, soft lustre to them:






The aroma coming off of these things was incredible. For fillings, I had the choice of shredded pork, mozzarella and a 3rd one which I forget. They were a good size, but I took 2 anyway, greedy pig that I am.

Had I known right then and there what they were going to taste like, I would have ordered 10.

These things just hit all the right buttons. The pork empanada was served with a wedge of lime which gave the pork a perfect tang and both were complimented by this sumptuously soft, buttery and perfectly chewy bread encasing.






And the mozzarella one. Oh, dudes..The mozzarella one was so good I wanted to regurgitate it and eat it again. It was like a calzone, but super soft and just pitch perfect in the balance of texture between cheese and sauce and bread.






It was some seriously top notch grub. If I could improve it all - and this is not a critique but just a suggestion - I'd have served it with a marinara dipping sauce to dunk it in. But maybe that's just me. I'm a dip dunking kinda guy.

They had other stuff there, including some pretty awesome looking pizza that is on the hit list for my next trip there

If you're in that area of Brighton (St James Street), I'd suggest a visit - let me know if you do go and what ya think of it. Oh, and if you tell them that Meathead sent you, they'll look at you like you're fucking nuts, so don't.

See ya tomorrow.

Peace!

Meathead.








Sunday, January 4, 2015

Fasting Day 4 - The True Test Awaits

I've coined a new term to describe this 10 day "fasting" I'm practising: The SortaFast. As I've mentioned already, it's not a proper, monk-on-a-mountain type fast, but rather a severe reduction in food intake - approx 390 calories per day, which is well shy of my preferred daily intake of 14,000 and change. Rather than explain this every day, I'm just calling it a SortaFast and you'll know what I mean. Cool? Cool. 

So, day 4 of the SortaFast was much like day 3: Not to bothered by hunger pains but felt light headed and weak for much of the day. According to Miss Meathead - the resident expert on the matter - this is onset of ketosis, which is the bodies way of both acknowledging the change in diet and punishing me at the same time. 

Other than that, the only real bother is that I have food on the brain constantly, far more than usual. The principle of wanting what you can't have is in hyperdrive. I've been craving things I don't even eat that much. For example, I was watching an episode of Friends this morning and Rachel/Monica were sat at their table. On this table was a plate of 4 (I counted) cookies. Chocolate chip if im not mistaken. The cookies had nothing to do with the plot line, they were just there as a prop, probably unnoticed by any of the billion people who have seen the episode and yet I locked in to it like a Patriot Missile. For the rest of the day, I had a feverish yearn for chocolate chip cookies, and I'm not even that big of a cookie guy. I mean, I like cookies as much as the next guy,  but I don't make it a point to throw some in the trolley when I'm at the shops, I'll put it that way.

Had my 3 MREs today as scheduled - same as the previous 3 days. If I had to pick a favourite (like picking your favourite vaccine shot), it would be the power bar I had for breakfast. As I wasn't sharing, I cut that thing into 17 pieces. I'd cut it into  more if I could [a la the scene from Goodfellas where Pauly is slicing garlic with a razor blade].



Today also marks the end of my 2 weeks off which means I'm off to Brighton tomorrow. This is going to be the most severe test of SortaFast to date.  See, Brighton is 4 hours away from my house so I'm in hotels til i come back in a few days. Brighton being Brighton, I will be no more than 200 metres from every heavenly delight you can think of: Burritos, sushi, burgers, American BBQ, Korean BBQ, hotdogs, delis. All of it. All of the stuff that has visited me in my dreams these last few days, and I'll have to forego all of it, in exchange for this:


I'll have to search the murky depths of my soul to find the will to walk by a place like Burger Brothers (phenomenal, but that's a post for another day) without caving in to my most primal instincts, knowing full well my only reward is a sippy cup worth of banana water.

Ah well. Mind over matter right? 

Right??

We shall see.

Til then,

Peace!

Meathead.


Saturday, January 3, 2015

Fasting Day 3: My Kingdom for a Taco

Of the 10 days covered by this (semi) fasting period, the two Saturdays are the ones I've dreaded the most. Saturday, you see, is breakfast day. Generally speaking, I don't 'do' breakfast and by any standard I'm a pretty poor cook but Saturdays - blessed Saturdays - are the exception to both rules.

On any given Saturday morning at Rancho Meathead, you'll hear the feverish tinkering of wooden spoons against pots and pans - as if some experimental jazz band was warming up in the kitchen, only instead of a hipster in a turtle-neck you'd find me in my underwear, wielding a stick of butter.

Through the years I have developed an ever expanding repertoire of breakfast dishes. Admittedly, they all involve the same principle ingredients: Eggs, Bacon, Cheese, Avocado, Baked Beans, Chorizo. All that varies between dishes is the quantity and balance of each and the vehicle in which they're delivered (crumpets, biscuits, tortillas etc.).

These are all influenced greatly by my background. Having grown up in South Texas, the breakfast taco is king. To this day, I cannot smell chorizo without sending my mind spinning back in time - harp music and all - to my mom's kitchen where she would be making chorizo & egg tacos while I waited eagerly at the table like a stray dog.

Today, sadly, tacos are not the menu. No tacos, no chorizo & beans, no bacon & egg muffins (or as Miss Meathead calls them - MikeMuffins - because my name is Mike and she is clever and they blow Mickey-Dees muffins to hell and back).

Instead, on Day 3 of this "fast", I had the option of a 'power bar' which is only slightly longer than a house key OR about a coffee mug worth of a strawberry flavoured drink, (powder mixed with water). Think Strawberry Quik, minus the milk and sugar and crack.

Miss Meathead and I decided to pick one each and share half with each other, thus giving the illusion of a multi-coursed breakfast. After a few days of this, I've realised that dealing with such a massive reduction in caloric intake (80%) is almost entirely psychological. Its enough food to keep you alive, but the mental anguish from just wanting something else is greater than the pangs of hunger. 

As a further example, we chopped this single power bar thing into tiny slices, 17 in total which were each the size of a cashew. 8.5 tiny chocolate flavoured nuggets for each person. I could have eaten the 17 in one mouthful with room for an additional Oreo, but to swallow it whole like that would give me one, 10 second bit of pseudo enjoyment. In splitting down into little pieces, I was able to chew on 8.5 separate things.



Breakfast, in all its muted glory.


And chew I did. I chewed every one of those little nuggets about 50 times. I didn't even have to swallow. They just turned into a paste which absorbed straight into my tongue. That, along with my half mug of strawberry water was breakfast for the day and, ya know, I was cool with that. Not nearly as hungry as I thought I'd be.

In fact, today as a whole was not as hard as anticipated - nothing like day 2 where I had a crushing headache and felt like a slug.

There are some tricks to this which I've quickly  learned and can offer to anyone thinking of doing something like it:

1. Drink LOTS of water. A gut full of water gives a quasi sense of fullness. It won't get you by all day, but it helps fill in the gap.

2. When tired of water, try tea. I've been drinking about 5-6 cups of peppermint tea per day. I could piss a candy cane right now.

3. When you're really hurting, try a black coffee. Not only is it an appetite suppressant, but it gives you a bit of a boost and if, like me, you don't drink coffee, it makes you downright wired. Like, Charlie Sheen on  pay-day wired. My poor parents - I called them on Skype right after a coffee today and talked AT them for 30 minutes, as if I'd just gotten back from the moon with stories to tell.

4. MOST IMPORTANT: Stay busy. You know that thing about "idle hands/tools of the devil". Well, its definitely true with an appetite, or at least one like mine. Miss Meathead and I decided to distract ourselves by painting our hallway - no shit. And it worked! Aaaand the hallway turned out nice, thanks for asking.

The rest of day was not too bad actually. I did not expect to have acclimatised by the 3rd day, but here I am. That said, there are 7 days to go and I'm really not sure what to expect. Calm before the storm? Dunno. I miss food terribly, but must admit that I'm now kinda curious to see where this goes.

Till tomorrow,

Peace,

Meathead.




Friday, January 2, 2015

Fasting - Spiritual Cleanse or Slow Death?

Earlier this week, Miss Meathead and I had this exchange:

Me: I'm hungry
Her: Are you hungry or do you just want to eat
Me: I don’t know the difference

And it’s true. I honestly don’t. Such is my love affair with food. Eat to live?? Balls to that. I live to eat. From the smells to the sizzles to biting into something so tasty it has a heathen like me saying grace – food is the ultimate sensory art and I its most eager student.

The idea of doing something like fast, then, seems as pleasant as a punch to the face.  And yet, that is exactly what I've agreed to do.

Why? 

3 main reasons:

1.       Miss Meathead is doing it and asked me to do it with her.

2.       Doing shit like this with your partner is just one of those things you have to do as part of the Universal Partner Agreement, along with carrying heavy things and buying tampons.

3.       Truly, I could do with a detox of sorts. I’d just like to place the blame squarely on her from the outset so that I can have someone to direct my bitter resentment towards later.

So, there are the 2 basic rules to the fast:

A.      It’s not really a fast in the purest sense of the word. I get 3 meals per day, but the meals are limited to these tiny packets of freeze-dried astronaut food, created with slow torture in mind. My dad used to tell me about how in the army they’d eat these things called “MRE’s” (Meals Ready to Eat). I can’t say for sure, but I reckon those were like a 5-stack with hash-browns at Denny’s compared to the pulverised food dust I’ll be having for the next 10 days. Anyway, I’ll call them MRE’s from here on out for lack of a better name. They are about 130 calories each, so just under 400 total calories a day, or less than 20% of my RDA and about 5% of my PFA (Preferred Food Amount).

B.      I can drink water, leaf tea or black coffee. Nothing else.

DAY 1

The first day was not so bad, and to that I can thank the Christmas period. I know the holidays are the time for indulgence but good god, I exceeded my own lofty standards. I remember one day feeling as though my intestines were so stuffed that they had turned into, ironically, a sausage of their own.
A day without proper food was in order, and it took those first 24 hours to stop feeling full anyway.

Day 2 (Today)

Woke up feeling okay. Starting the day knocking back a few glasses of water seems to help.
Today being the last with nice weather for a while, Miss Meathead and I decided to do some walking at a local wildlife reserve. Packed MRE # 1, which looked like a mini-power bar. By mid-day I'd had enough and had to eat. I nibbled on that power bar slowly,  like squirrel eating a frozen snickers, so that it would last longer (this, I can already tell, will be an important strategy throughout).

One thing I've realised early about this “fast” is that it doesn't mix well with exercise in that it burns calories and thus brings a hunger that you can’t do a lot about.

By 4pm, I was famished. I mean, proper fucking hungry. It was all I could do to not think about food. I don't do well as a person when I'm that hungry. In our normal lives, I ask Miss Meathead to carry a bag of peanuts that she can throw at me when I'm hungry and we're not near food. She ignores this request, and at her own peril.

I warded off the hunger with MRE # 2. It was a ‘vegetable soup’ packet, not unlike those cup-a-soups you can get from the store. It was about half a coffee mug worth, so I sipped it as slow as I could, again, to give the illusion of quantity.

It helped a little, but by 6pm I had a blistering headache. Miss Meathead says this is due to a state the body goes into called “Ketosis”. Something about carb withdrawal.

At this point, I know what you’re thinking: “Jesus dude, it has only been 2 days”. Try to understand, I’d normally get the same calories in a single, delicious bacon/egg/cheese/avocado/Cholula sandwich than I've gotten in the last 48 hours, dammit. <Wipes tears from eyes>.

I finally had my 3rd and final MRE of the day. It was “Chilli Beef”, or at least that what it said on the packet, only problem being it was absent of both Chilli and Beef. That said – and this may be the desperation talking – it wasn't half bad. It was also about half a coffee mug’s worth, and I literally licked the bowl at the end to get every last calorie I could get as there is no more food, god help me, for 18 hours.

Will check back in then.

Peace,


Meathead.

Thursday, January 1, 2015

Happy New Year, and all that Good Shit.

Well hello there. Hows everyone been??

I am not big on New Year’s resolutions, but have decided on one to stick to for 2015: A blog post a day, every day of 2015. Given that my last post was in January of last year, I think this qualifies as a “challenge”.
As I write this, I have under an hour until the end of the 1st of January and – if I don’t post this – the sad, swift and somewhat expected failure of this lone resolution.

All this to say that I have to hurry the hell up, so please excuse the brevity.

So, in no particular order, here are the top things that have happened since I last posted:

1.       Earth has made its way around our Sun 338 times. That’s a lot of effort on Earth’s part, and makes my absence from writing even a single post that much more inexcusable.

2.       I went back to work. After 8 months of a carefree utopian existence looking for my next gig, I took a role in Brighton, England of all places. It is a bitch of a commute but, as a town goes, its pretty cool. For my Texas readers, it is basically the UK’s version of Austin, Texas. Or rather, what imagine Austin was like without the traffic. Music, dudes drawing on sidewalks, great grub, a 1:1 citizen to panhandler ratio. It is truly Austin’s sister city. I’ll be telling more about that in the days to come.

3.       Mexican Food has arrived. Between Cardiff and Brighton, I now have no less than 5 places to get a taco fix (and then some), thus proving that prayer works.

4.       Cardiff Food Scene. One word: BOOM. Burger places, BBQ, Mexican, etc etc. I have no idea what’s going but foodies of Cardiff will look back on this as the Big Bang of Cardiff grub.

5.       Got Engaged. That’s right folks, coming to a theatre near you “Meathead Gets Hitched Part II. This Time, He’s Serious”….I kid, of course. Short story:  After having to put Miss Meathead on a plane by herself to Croatia because I forgot my passport, she greeted me in Dubrovnik with a kiss and a smile. This girl is a keeper.

See y’all tomorrow.


Meathead.

P.S Yes, I know its officially 4 minutes into January 2nd, but its still January 1st somewhere in the world so THERE.