“The only time to eat diet food is while you're waiting for the steak to cook.”
― Julia Child
The other day, while digging out the doughnut recipe I came across another tried and true favourite that reminded me of this story.
A decade or so back I launched a self imposed diet to try and rid myself of that lingering baby fat from giving birth to a twelve pounder, affectionately known as Shane. I'd packed on a lot of weight during the pregnancy and like unwanted relatives it wouldn't go away. I hadn't been overly concerned about those extra pounds, but after running into an old acquaintance who exclaimed excitedly with all sincerity, "Oh my Christine, when did you have your baby?" followed by my reply, "Twenty years ago!", I thought maybe I should work a bit harder to improve my maternity style outer image. Some people have a natural propensity to put their mouth in gear before their brain brake is engaged and although she didn't have a mean bone in her body, the truth hung in the air like a bad stench....I must have looked like I had a recent encounter with a stork.
So, full of gusto I entered into the world of dieting, blazing a trail with carrot sticks and butterless bread, no sauces, sensible and boring meals with lots of water. I made my husband promise, PROMISE, PROMISE not to give in to any demands of eating out or treats of any kind. I even made him raise his hand to swear he would be the gatekeeper of the fridge and unfortunately he took the job seriously. Funny how all the foods that taste the best, feel so good in your mouth, wrap you in comfort and fill your senses with unadulterated joy are all bad for you. And equally funny, the first three letters of the word diet are die........coincidence? I think not!
A decade or so back I launched a self imposed diet to try and rid myself of that lingering baby fat from giving birth to a twelve pounder, affectionately known as Shane. I'd packed on a lot of weight during the pregnancy and like unwanted relatives it wouldn't go away. I hadn't been overly concerned about those extra pounds, but after running into an old acquaintance who exclaimed excitedly with all sincerity, "Oh my Christine, when did you have your baby?" followed by my reply, "Twenty years ago!", I thought maybe I should work a bit harder to improve my maternity style outer image. Some people have a natural propensity to put their mouth in gear before their brain brake is engaged and although she didn't have a mean bone in her body, the truth hung in the air like a bad stench....I must have looked like I had a recent encounter with a stork.
So, full of gusto I entered into the world of dieting, blazing a trail with carrot sticks and butterless bread, no sauces, sensible and boring meals with lots of water. I made my husband promise, PROMISE, PROMISE not to give in to any demands of eating out or treats of any kind. I even made him raise his hand to swear he would be the gatekeeper of the fridge and unfortunately he took the job seriously. Funny how all the foods that taste the best, feel so good in your mouth, wrap you in comfort and fill your senses with unadulterated joy are all bad for you. And equally funny, the first three letters of the word diet are die........coincidence? I think not!
So after the first week of deprivation, I was desperately building a craving that grew like a tenacious weed, drawing all its strength from the root of the fattening fish and chips. Why I settled on this particular food I don't know, it wasn't like it was a regular part of my diet because we rarely ate deep fried food, but maybe I was weakening in the grey cell department, misfiring from a lack of sugar. All I know, I became obsessed with deep fried, English battered fish and its side kick, the golden French fry that I longed to smother under a blanket of ketchup.
I suppose I was relentless and more than a bit annoying because the look on hubby's face said I was bugging him more than a swarm of black flies. To his testimony, no matter how much I whined or begged he remained a rock, holding strong to the sworn oath I'd stupidly deputized him with, and used my own words against me, that his diligence was for my own good. I tried playing cute and using womanly wiles, but he saw the manipulation for what it was. A good lesson learned for future attempts at anything I might want to get myself out of, to keep the mouth shut and not drag him into the regime because he played by the rules.
So I'll admit, the nagging was relentless for several weeks but he remained vigilant and I failed to put a dent in his stubborn veneer. But, that only made the craving worse, by now I was dreaming about it and entertaining thoughts of going behind his back for a sneaky take-out to cram into my face on the way home from work. Funny how when you're denied something that forbidden fruit becomes a search for a holy grail, commandeering every thought in your life.
So after a month of torture for us both, the big weigh-in yielded the goal of a ten pound loss. Nothing to sneeze at and worthy of a reward and what I had in mind will be of no surprise, securing a date with hubby for Friday evening for the coveted deep fried haddock and fries. So that night in bed, feeling happy with my success and with visions of fried fish swimming around in my head, I sought a bit of affirmation that hubby was proud of me for staying this difficult course. I rolled over and said to the dear boy, "Now would be a good time to say those three little words that mean so much," this being my way of prompting an "I love you" considering he's a man and needs to be told when to do such things. He looked at me and without missing a beat he replied in an exasperated tone, "Fish and Chips?"
I sent a condensed version of this story to Reader's Digest and received a phone call and $200.00 for my effort. It was published under "Life's Like That" and I took the money and treated hubby to a meal out... you guessed it....fish and chips!
I worked at a take-out restaurant as a young girl; starting there at thirteen and worked my way up to night shift cook at fourteen. They made the best English batter from scratch, unlike what they have today, a powder that comes in a large pail that you add water to. The secret to a well made piece of deep fried fish is to pat the moisture away with paper towel before dipping it in the batter. This insures that the coating won't fly off when it hits the hot fat and will have a smooth surface and be puffed and plump.
Restaurants constantly disappoint when the fish arrives at the table with the batter barely covering the surface, or is too thin and hard, or is so thick it's like cake under the surface and you can hardly find the haddock. The flavour just isn't there with this premixed, laboratory designed base so I'm sharing this scratch recipe for those of you who like homemade and would like to take a trip back to the time when a piece of deep fried fish made love to your watering mouth, not turned you off and left you cold.
English Batter
1 Cup Flour
1 Cup Milk
1 Egg
1 Tsp Sugar
1 Tsp Salt
1 Tsp Baking Powder
Mix all ingredients together at one time. Hand beat until smooth.
Wash and pat fish dry with paper towel. Pick over for bones. Dip in batter and slowly put in hot fat, leaving on the fork until it floats and then release it. If you dump it in the fat too quickly, some of the batter will blow off and the fish will also sink and stick to the bottom of the pan.
Fry until golden brown on one side and then turn. Do this only once as flipping it back and forth will overcook and make the batter hard. This recipe is perfect for scallops or clams as well. Enjoy!
I suppose I was relentless and more than a bit annoying because the look on hubby's face said I was bugging him more than a swarm of black flies. To his testimony, no matter how much I whined or begged he remained a rock, holding strong to the sworn oath I'd stupidly deputized him with, and used my own words against me, that his diligence was for my own good. I tried playing cute and using womanly wiles, but he saw the manipulation for what it was. A good lesson learned for future attempts at anything I might want to get myself out of, to keep the mouth shut and not drag him into the regime because he played by the rules.
So I'll admit, the nagging was relentless for several weeks but he remained vigilant and I failed to put a dent in his stubborn veneer. But, that only made the craving worse, by now I was dreaming about it and entertaining thoughts of going behind his back for a sneaky take-out to cram into my face on the way home from work. Funny how when you're denied something that forbidden fruit becomes a search for a holy grail, commandeering every thought in your life.
So after a month of torture for us both, the big weigh-in yielded the goal of a ten pound loss. Nothing to sneeze at and worthy of a reward and what I had in mind will be of no surprise, securing a date with hubby for Friday evening for the coveted deep fried haddock and fries. So that night in bed, feeling happy with my success and with visions of fried fish swimming around in my head, I sought a bit of affirmation that hubby was proud of me for staying this difficult course. I rolled over and said to the dear boy, "Now would be a good time to say those three little words that mean so much," this being my way of prompting an "I love you" considering he's a man and needs to be told when to do such things. He looked at me and without missing a beat he replied in an exasperated tone, "Fish and Chips?"
I sent a condensed version of this story to Reader's Digest and received a phone call and $200.00 for my effort. It was published under "Life's Like That" and I took the money and treated hubby to a meal out... you guessed it....fish and chips!
I worked at a take-out restaurant as a young girl; starting there at thirteen and worked my way up to night shift cook at fourteen. They made the best English batter from scratch, unlike what they have today, a powder that comes in a large pail that you add water to. The secret to a well made piece of deep fried fish is to pat the moisture away with paper towel before dipping it in the batter. This insures that the coating won't fly off when it hits the hot fat and will have a smooth surface and be puffed and plump.
Restaurants constantly disappoint when the fish arrives at the table with the batter barely covering the surface, or is too thin and hard, or is so thick it's like cake under the surface and you can hardly find the haddock. The flavour just isn't there with this premixed, laboratory designed base so I'm sharing this scratch recipe for those of you who like homemade and would like to take a trip back to the time when a piece of deep fried fish made love to your watering mouth, not turned you off and left you cold.
English Batter
1 Cup Flour
1 Cup Milk
1 Egg
1 Tsp Sugar
1 Tsp Salt
1 Tsp Baking Powder
Mix all ingredients together at one time. Hand beat until smooth.
Wash and pat fish dry with paper towel. Pick over for bones. Dip in batter and slowly put in hot fat, leaving on the fork until it floats and then release it. If you dump it in the fat too quickly, some of the batter will blow off and the fish will also sink and stick to the bottom of the pan.
Fry until golden brown on one side and then turn. Do this only once as flipping it back and forth will overcook and make the batter hard. This recipe is perfect for scallops or clams as well. Enjoy!
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