Kate in the Kitchen

Food talk, delicious ramblings and the evocative fare of a passionate cook

Thursday, August 17, 2006

Time to move on......

I applaud those who make blogger.com work for them, but I have found WordPress to be more user friendly. Please visit my site there, for all the stuff you see here, and more!!! Still the same kitchen talk, foodie revelations and recipes to make you go "Mmmmmm"

www.cooknkate.wordpress.com

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Night time food fastasies

Now, now…..before you get all jazzed up over that word ‘fantasies’, I’m talkin’ about dreams! Dreams! The kind you have at night, all jacked out on Percocet and lying in one position for a long period of time.

Recovery is going as good as expected. I am sore over the entire area between my hip bones and unable to roll over or sleep on my side. So when I lay down at night, I am basically in that postion until morning, with some turning a little from one cheek to the other; turning my leg out instead of straight and trying to shift my shoulders. It’s not bad, but I can’t wait until I can curl up on my side, draped over my body pillow, snoring like a hog in the pen. (ok, well I don’t snore that loud!) The Percocet is reserved for night time use, as it makes me quite dizzy, loopy and takes control over my tongue so I say stupid and often maudlin things. It’s best to be under it’s influence while I am dead with sleep.

The last two nights I have had vivid and strong dreams about food. I am not much of a dreamer. I find I dream more when I am troubled, stressed, anxious or worried, and when I am fine with the world, my night times are more peaceful. So now, with my body on the mend and my activities severely limited for now, I am dreaming like mad. About food. Food I can’t eat, for the most part, because I simply can’t summon up the energy to make it. One night I dreamt about Quesadillas. I make fabulous quesadillas, made even more delicious by cooking them on the grill. They are truly a taste treat to devour, and a bit time consuming to make so they are out of the question right now. I am dreaming about pizza. I am craving pizza too, might have to make a request of the hubby to toss a few Boboli crusts together to get me over this urge. The dream about pizza was a pie-eater’s delight. A long table full of every kind of imagineable pizza, from pizzeria style stand-by’s to a gourmet feasters all-out extravaganza of any ingredient ever put on a crust. And wine to boot, bottle after bottle of oakey reds, spicy shiraz and pinot noirs. I was in dream heaven, eating slice after slice and sipping down more wine than I have had in ages. Then I awoke. I wanted to cry. More because I can hardly move without pretty deep pain right away in the morning, and also because the pizza and wine was a dream; a cruel, twisted dream. I also have dreamt of banquets of food, table upon table laden with all types of foods; appetizers galore, hot foods of every kind and ethnicity, breads to drive you mad, side dishes that made you swoon, desserts for rendering one comatose. It was wonderful, overwhelming and delicious looking. It was a dream. Another cruel, twisted dream where I could smell everything as if I was hovering over it all absolutely mad with hunger. I could see the textures, the meats and vegetables, the grains in the bread and the swirls on the desserts. I could smell spice, herb and nuttiness. Maybe I am nutty.

It is said that our dreams speak of the true desires of our hearts, or our deepest fears. I am thinkin’ that these are about the former, not the latter. *deep sigh* Someday soon enough I will be able to indulge again. And I can tell you something…..it’s gonna be GOOD!

Home again, home again

(((FYI.....I underwent major surgery on August 3rd....this is my first post surgical post)))


Ouch.

One word sums up the last 4 days. It really wasn’t as bad as I expected, but there were some moments it was all I had been terrified it would be. Getting outta bed, sitting down, getting up, trying to clear my throat, coughing…..(THE WORST!) and of course the host of bodily functions that you need to do in order to be sent home. I never figured I would meet so many grownups with advanced medical degrees who were so absorbed in how much you pee….go figure! I have so many vague memories, I wonder what I actually experienced and what I truly hallucinated. But everyone was wonderful, a great staff. Not that I want to ever go back, but if I do I hope I have the option of going there.

No good food experiences at all, of course, when I wanted to eat there was nothing note-worthy. When I was still doped up on the IV of Dilaudid I found oatmeal to be absolutely fascinating, incredible! The texture, the scent, the co-mingling of butter and brown sugar and the smooth and chewy kernels of oat! Wonderful!!! Hey, that’s the drugs talking!! But then, the next day when it was just me and the monster gas pains with the IV taken out, oatmeal once again became something pretty benign, especially since they forgot the brown sugar! As was toast, fruit, and anything else they tried to pass off as food. For their credit, they tried. It was probably better than most, but frankly, after the surgeon sliced a 6 inch gash through my belly, I would have turned up my nose at Prime Rib. Not really thinkin’ food here! My friends plied me with popcorn, licorice and chocolate, bless their hearts. Still, nothing. Not interested. There is a lot of food in my fridge from helpful family members, and when I eat it, no matter what it is, I taste love. The love of someone who took the time to make something just for us in our time of need. I don’t care what it is, it tastes like love and I eat it because I know I need it to get strong. Once I get around to feeling like my insides won’t fall out every time I stand up I think that food will hold it’s appeal to me again. Until then, I will wax on philosophic about life in recovery and what it’s like to be taken care of…..who knows, it could be the only time it happens! I need to enjoy it and take it for everything it’s worth.