Keep Calm and Eat Paczki

It’s Fat Tuesday, y’all. If you can’t be celebrating Mardi Gras with those crazy Creoles down south eating mud bugs and collecting beads, then make your way to Chicago. We have a little tradition here called Pączki Day, an annual culinary indulgence that makes Fat Tuesday live up to its name.

For one day a year, we stuff our faces with fist-sized fried yeasty donuts bursting with rich fillings like custard, cherry and strawberry and either glazed, iced or dusted with copious amounts of powdered sugar. We pronounce them “Pooch-key” or “Punch-key” or even “Poonch-key.” All of which will get you one of the richest donuts you have ever had.

Fried with lard and love, these Polish donuts were traditionally made to use up all those rich ingredients before the fasting period started with Lent. There are so many Polish immigrants in Chicago that pączki began a tradition here as well.

I love being of Polish decent living in Chicago. Although this city is a melting pot, Eastern Europeans are a stronghold here. Granted I am pretty far removed from the homeland, and my relatives made a stopover in the Ukraine before emigrating here, but in Chicago, I am a “ski,” and I am proud of that. For as much as I complain about finding good Southern food in Chicago, try finding gołąbki (cabbage rolls) or good pierogi in South Carolina!

Sweating Like a Sinner in Church…It’s Time I Do Darn Push-ups

I have three weeks—17 days actually—to accomplish something that may seem minor to some but will be a huge feat for me, something I never thought I could do. By February 26, I will do five real push-ups in a row and check off my next personal goal.

By the way, today I am not yet able to do any push-ups.

Patience has never been my finest virtue, and I am stubborn to a fault, but this is a goal I want to achieve really badly, and I will. If I can do push-ups, I feel like I can do anything.

By the way, I still hate talking about personal things, especially things that make me struggle. However, I got over my discomfort to share my progress with you, and I feel like I owe you a quick update.

I don’t know why push-ups became a goal for me. Perhaps it’s because they are the most challenging exercise for me. They are a compound exercise, so they require that I am strong enough in my arms, chest, shoulders, core and legs—my whole body, really—to lower my body weight and push myself back up. For me, it means I have worked out everything well enough to consider myself “in shape.”

My First Blizzard…Like A Well Digger’s Butt in Winter

Last night when I snuggled into bed, Chicago was experiencing its tenth largest snowfall. And this morning when I woke up, we had catapulted to our fifth largest snowfall. That’s right, folks…we got 19 inches of snow yesterday, and for a while, it fell at an inch an hour with wind upward of 45 mph.

Dear New York…That’s what a real blizzard looks like. And no sass from you Minnesota people.

To be fair, this is my first blizzard in Chicago, but it came and went with little fanfare because it’s February. In Chicago. We expect this. We prepare for this.

My car is under there somewhere!

Ok, well I wasn’t prepared. I had to have a shovel delivered, and my car was properly dug out for me…thank you.

Growing up, snow days were the best. Three to four inches of snow would get us off from school. We would dress in our warmest clothes (some hodge podge of sweatpants, sneakers and mismatched scarves and mittens) and head outside for shenanigans—snow ball fights, making snowmen and plopping in the snow to make angels.

I wouldn’t recommend snow angels in this snow. It’s better for burying dead bodies you don’t want found until April.

Busier Than a Church Fan in July: My 2015 Chicago Wish List

When I sat down to write this post, I thought of it as a Chicago Bucket List, but I realized this is more of my 2015 Wish List. Chicago is such a great city for hometown touristing, so I figured what the hey, let’s make a fun list.

Chicago has so much to offer, a city with a social scene in constant flux, so a bucket list would be irrelevant five minutes after I post it. Of course, there are a few Chicago things that go on my life list—seeing the Hawks win a cup and celebrating it with my city (I was in NYC last time), for example—but there are so many other things to experience while I wait.

After three and a half years in Chicago, I have made good progress experiencing the Second City, but I still feel I have only scratched the surface. Of course, I have hit the high points…attending Bulls, Cubs and Sox games, visiting our world-class museums (the Adler, Chicago History Museum, the Field, the Art Institute and Museum of Science and Industry), seeing the Bean and the Cultural Center’s Tiffany Dome, taking an architecture tour down the Chicago River, eating at Hot Doug’s (before it closed!) and spending time in Millennium Park. Oh, and I got to see the bridges lift on the Chicago River!

And I have lived here long enough to do what the locals do. I have been to the “beach,” visited the Butterfly House at the Nature Museum, walked through Zoo Lights, listened to the blues at Kingston Mines and eaten at Portillos. After reading Devil in the White City, I visited the Rookery and Graceland Cemetery. I have had great summer experiences at Ravinia, witnessed the fireworks at Navy Pier and attended several neighborhood festivals.

Oh, and I have suffered more than once through a true Chicago rite of passage, the mind-numbing atrocity called Malort, a wormwood liquor that tastes like rat excrement mixed with the sweat of a thousand marathon runners.

But there is so much more to do, so many things I haven’t done yet. So what does 2015 look like?

I Fell Off a Bit…Or How I Lost This Dang Weight

Talking or writing about personal things is difficult for me, but I was encouraged to share this, so here it is… how a girl from South Carolina lost 55 lbs in Chicago. A true Southern belle keeps her secrets, but I will share with you as much as I can comfortably.

A few things to start…I refuse to call this a weight-loss journey. That implies there is a destination. And this is not intended to elicit “atta girls” to boost my self-esteem. I’m in the best place physically, mentally and emotionally I have been in for a decade.

My starting point

In October 2013, I was 5’7 and 208 lbs, a size 16 on the bottom and an XL on top, with a 38” waist. I was pear-shaped with a waistline, a butt and a healthy bust line, but I was overweight, and I knew it. When I started having chest pains, shortness of breath and coughing, it was a wake-up call on a lot of levels.

Several doctor visits and tests on my heart, lungs and digestive system led me to a diagnosis of Gastrointestinal Reflux Disorder (GERD). It runs on both sides of my family, so there was no real surprise there, but it was the kick in the pants I needed.

Winter 2013/2014

Dec. 2013, Feb. 2014 and March 2014

I left the doctor’s office with the commitment to myself to change—I wanted to like myself again. I set a weight goal of 160 lbs, which seemed impossible. I started with changing my diet.

I searched for lists of reflux trigger foods, and I removed darn near all of them from my diet (coffee is my friend…couldn’t cut that). No garlic, onions, citrus, tomatoes, fried foods, soda, heavy foods, spicy foods, tea, chocolate… My diet was bland, but I played around with food to determine my triggers, and in some cases, I cut foods out altogether, like soda. I lost some weight (about 15 lbs), but it gave me the mental boost I needed.

It’s Colder Than a Witch’s Tit in a Brass Bra

So I have another confession. This one will make my Southern folks think I’m touched in the head and my Chicago friends question my sanity.

I actually like cold weather.

Of course that has a few caveats, but I figured today would be a perfect day to share that with you (especially since I received a complaint that I only write about food). It is currently -2 degrees in Chicago, and the wind chill is -22.

By the way, I think negative temperatures aren’t real numbers.

That is definitely not a real number!

Cold weather is all about being prepared, and you can always put on more clothes or add blankets to the bed. The same cannot be said in hot weather. I lived for 25 years in the heat equivalent of the Chicago cold. Let me know how you feel in Charleston in the middle of July after a rainstorm. They frown upon you walking nekkid down Market Street.

So back to the frozen tundra, at 6:30 this morning, I made my way to the gym. On top of my workout gear, I had on leg warmers, snow boots, a thermal shirt, gloves, a knit beanie, a scarf and my big sleeping bag jacket. I honestly didn’t even feel the cold. Walking outside was almost refreshing, especially after an hour at the gym.

Eatin’ High on the Hog: My Family’s New Year’s Food Traditions

Mixing the specken dicken batter on New Year’s Eve

I’m going to let the cat out of the bag…technically I’m Yankee-born, BUT I am Southern by the grace of God. Although, I spent 25 of my 31 years in South Carolina, I was born in New Jersey, and my parents—and much of my extended family–hail from Pennsylvania. So why am I sharing this with you? Well, this post is a little different. Instead of sharing a bit of the South or the Midwest, I wanted to share some of my family’s food traditions.

Every New Year’s my mom, step-dad and I join my extended family in Sinking Spring, PA. We come from Chicago (obviously!), South Carolina (double obvious!!), Massachusetts, Connecticut, Minnesota and Pennsylvania, and although we are one family, we bring with us different regional and familial traditions.

This year there were 18 of us mostly under one roof, ranging from 10 months to 83 years old. We watched college bowl games, celebrated the ball drop and exchanged Christmas gifts. There was even a fun side trip to the family-run Blair Vineyards for a wine tasting. However, when we are together, we spend much of our visit in the kitchen partaking in a tradition we call “grazing.”

Now, check out some of my family’s favorite New Year’s food traditions.

It’s Supper Time: Shrimp and Grits Recipe

My new Lodge skillet…perfectly seasoned for shrimp and grits

Shrimp and grits will make yer tongue slap yer brains out! The Lowcountry staple is one of my favorite Southern meals to cook, and when I got a new cast iron dutch oven for Christmas, I decided that shrimp and grits would make the perfect Christmas dinner.

The recipe originated in the coastal regions of South Carolina and Georgia and was originally a “fisherman’s breakfast.” It’s the epitome of Southern comfort food, and I dare you to not fall in love with the sweet shrimp, creamy grits, smoky meat and rich gravy that make this dish perfect for any meal or occasion.

There are a lot of variations on the recipe, but this is my tried and true favorite, and I have spent a lot of time in the kitchen trying to perfect it. There are some ingredients (bell peppers and tomatoes, for instance) that will show up in variations of shrimp and grits, but you should avoid them…they have no place in this simplistically delicious concoction.

There are four big steps to making shrimp and grits—the shrimp, the grits, the sauce and putting it all together. This recipe will serve 3-4 people (2 if you are really hungry!).

Goin’ Hog Wild for Boiled Peanuts (Recipe)

Y’all seem to love reading about food, so here’s a little post about one of the simplest and tastiest dishes from the South–boiled peanuts (pronounced “boyld peanuts”). If I had to guess, you just turned up your nose at the idea of boiled peanuts since you are used to the roasted variety, but trust me, these things are so tasty, you’ll wanna slap ya mama.

A boiled peanut roadside stand in South Carolina. Photo taken Dec. 21, 2014 (thanks for sharing, Dad).

Boiled peanuts, by the way, are boiled in salt water until they are soft, and the best way to eat them is hot right out of the pot. Where I come from, you get your boiled peanuts from a roadside stand. You’ll see a handwritten sign on the roadside with big letters “Boiled Peanuts” in front of a lean-to or the like. There will be a friend there (in the South, there are no strangers) selling boiled peanuts that were likely harvested in the past 24 hours. They will dish them up from a massive pot and hand you a brown paper sack, styrofoam cup or plastic bag with steaming hot goodness.

There is something so satisfying about popping that shell and sucking out the bit of salt water before digging out the tender peanuts. Do I have you salivating yet?

Fiddle-dee-dee: Celebrating Gone With the Wind

A few items from my Gone With the Wind collection.

Great balls of fire! Today is the 75th anniversary of Gone With the Wind’s premiere at the Loew’s Grand Theater in Atlanta, and I would be remiss if I didn’t take this perfect opportunity to share with you how the movie has impacted me. After 75 years, the film has stood the proverbial test of time, even with all its controversies about the story, the movie’s production, its portrayal of Southern stereotypes and its release.

I have loved Gone With the Wind since the first time I saw it when I was probably about five or six. At the time, TNT was a regional channel, and it showed the movie frequently because it was Ted Turner’s favorite movie. There were many Sundays lost to watching 222 minutes of Scarlett, Rhett and Mammy laying on my stomach in the middle of the living room floor.

When I was 13, I set out on the daunting task of reading Gone With the Wind, which my Aunt Karen had given me for Christmas. It took me six months to read, but it was a huge accomplishment for my 8th grade self! Margaret Mitchell was a bit long winded in her descriptions of the red clay of Georgia, but the copy of Gone With the Wind I received in 1994 is one of the few books I have dragged with me through all my moves.