40 Schmorty, I think.

I love being my age. 42 to be exact. As I have mentioned numerous times before, to me it’s only a number and each new year is frosting. I have known too many wonderful people who did not have the luxury of celebrating the addition of candles on their cakes. Therefore, bring it on I say.

BUT….once you hit 40, stuff happens. I have heard of this stuff before, but until you are in it, you don’t really believe it. Or have any clue what they are talking about.  As you can probably deduce from my posts, I am someone who likes to be active and eat healthily. I do enjoy my treats and desserts (mmmmm) but realize that they are somehow, someway best in some kind of moderation lest I turn into a much larger version of myself. And I don’t care to do that, thank you very much.

Somehow, though…carbs and sugar have become the devil. The absolute devil. We all have our “problem areas”, right? Well, these two things, C & S, seem to have developed the uncanny ability to now create “new problem areas” for me in the blink of an eye. Or thigh. Or waist. What the heck? I have had the same problem areas for the last 42 years. We have a relationship. I know what things will look like in the mirror of Lord and Taylor (worst-ever mirrors on the whole planet. I now buy things from there and try them on at home unless I’m having a REALLY good day) and how to handle it afterwards. I do not need a NEW problem area! This was not in the playbook for 42.

Used to be that if I wanted to drop a few pounds, I’d stop eating desserts and ka-pow! 5 pounds would melt off of me like a popsicle in a sweatlodge. Not any more. Now, losing a mere 5 pounds involves 5-day-a week loooooong walks, weights, yoga and a whole lot of praying and bargaining with the gods. Not to mention, teeny desserts (if any) and watching my food the way a wolf eyes a rabbit. It’s so much work now, it’s just pitiful. More than 10 pounds? You need a support system.  Again, not in the playbook for over-40.

Seeing as I want to play hardball with The Devil (aka carbs and sugar) I’ve been on a quest to find new, non (low)carb-y things to eat for breakfast. Yes, I know that some carbs are good for you and bodies do need them. It’s just a bit tricky finding those carbs for the meal of breakfast, when pancakes, waffles and cereal are beloved by the younger members of my family.

So, I tried something new today. Quinoa. For breakfast.

I’ve always had it alongside a dinner or even lunch, therefore it being a bit more on the savory side. I’ve never had it for the first meal of the day, though, and in a sweet capacity. Curious.

Seeing as I have stumbled on a fair amount of recipes, it seemed pretty easy AND I like quinoa, I decided to try a new grain for breakfast. Me and the Incas…having our supergrain.

I liked it. I’ll be honest and say that it did take a few bites to convince me. But, like any other thing, if you doctor it up enough, it’s wonderful. I might add, too, that since it’s a mega-protein, it did keep me full for a whole handful of hours and the ol’ bod felt good. You might like to try it. Since I’m trying to veer away from the pancakes and waffles, a girl can only take so much greek yogurt, eggs and steel-cut oatmeal. I need some new players in my cast!

Coconut Quinoa…several sources

1 cup uncooked quinoa
1 cup coconut milk
1 cup water
any toppings you love. ..cinnamon, raisins, dried apricots, fresh fruit, wheat germ, berries, nuts…go for it. (I used blueberries, shredded coconut and a drizzle of maple syrup today)

Combine the quinoa, coconut milk and water in a small saucepan. Heat over medium high heat and when it starts bubbling, cover, drop the heat to low-ish and cook until the quinoa unfurls those funny, little squiggles. They look weird but carry on. This might take about 20 minutes or so. Add additional coconut milk as it cooks to get it to the consistency that you like. I liked it a little soupier.

Ta-dah…ladle into bowl and top with your tantalizing toppings. Truly the breakfast of champions.

Gotcha, Devil!

6 thoughts on “40 Schmorty, I think.

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