Cheat-Meal: Jaipur

I'm not officially Homaha until we've eaten at my favorite restaurant in the world: The Jaipur.  I know this photo doesn't look that inviting, but let me tell you, nowhere else makes malai seekh kebab or vegetable samosas quite as delicious.

It's good to be home!

New York, New York

For those who were wondering when I started snoring in Evidence this morning: I returned last night from an amazing weekend with the girls in NYC.  (!!!) We shopped at Kleinfeld for my wedding dress (success!), toured Soho in sundresses on a gorgeous Saturday afternoon, drank to excess at a beer garden and then to greater excess on Drea and Margaret's rooftop deck, and of course, above all other things, ATE.

Followers of the blog, they were extremely gracious hosts, researching restaurants that would fit the plan.  Turns out, eating unprocessed is pretty easy in New York, where the fresh and local movement is the hip thing to do if you're a chef.

Waiting on Drea to get out of work on Friday afternoon, I dined solo at Cafe 50 West, where I had a big, fresh salad and approximately the most incredible macaroni and cheese (with white truffle oil!) in the history of the world:

Friday night, we hit Jean-Georges' new restaurant, ABC Kitchen.  Totally committed to fresh/local/organic cuisine, the menu lists its source farms on the back.  No need to fear that anything here ever encountered a factory or warehouse:

Margaret had a goat cheese ravioli:

Drea ordered a roasted carrot salad which it would never have occurred to me to get, but turned out to be the greatest thing I had ever tasted:

I got the spicy pork ragu bigoli:

And Melissa had a pizza with prosciutto and kale:

(Sorry these photos are so blurry ... the lighting was a little too romantic for great quality pictures.)

On Saturday, Drea and I took a break from strolling in Soho to dine at another Jean-Georges restaurant, (Mercer)Market.  She and I shared an appetizer of roasted beets with goat cheese before digging into a tuna spring roll and eggs benedict, respectively:

I really can't describe how lemony and wonderful that hollandaise was.  Definitely on my list to learn how to make (without contracting salmonella).

We met up with Margaret after lunch and came upon -- no joke -- an organic ice cream truck.

When you write a blog of this sort and then COME UPON AN ORGANIC ICE CREAM TRUCK there is really a sort of obligation to get an ice cream cone.

So I did:

We finished Saturday with several hours at the Loreley beer garden, during and after which I made the (wise) decision to keep my camera in my bag.

Sunday afternoon, we wrapped up my visit with a trip to Shake Shack.  For those who aren't familiar and don't live in NYC, I'm so sorry.  For those who aren't familiar and do live in NYC, GO.   Make sure to check the Shack Cam before you go, though, to avoid an hours-long line.

I didn't bring the camera on this venture either, but Drea let me snap a photo of my ShackBurger with her iPhone:

BEST. CHEATMEAL. EVER.

It's My Party and I'll Eat What I Want To

Every Wednesday morning, the University of Chicago Law School hosts an event called "Coffee Mess" in which Dunkin Donuts coffee, doughnuts, bagels, and an assortment of fruits and yogurts are provided for law students.

Wednesday mornings have been very difficult for me this year.

Yesterday was my birthday, and I'll be damned if I wasn't going to have a doughnut on my birthday.

Or two.

I'm going to be honest with you: they were very, very tasty.  Marsha Nagorsky, our Dean of Communications (shout out!) challenged me about eating them; what is the lesson of the experiment if, on the one day a year you really can and should eat whatever your heart desires, I choose to eat heavily processed foods?

She had a point.  And here's the answer:  the lesson is that after months of eating unprocessed foods with few exceptions, gorging on two huge frosted doughnuts on my birthday resulted in A) a silty feeling on the roof of my mouth that lasted all the way through two classes, until I eventually got home to brush my teeth and B) several hours of serious stomach upset.

When I say "serious stomach upset", you should read "major diarrhea."

It's all honesty on this blog.

AWESOME way to spend a birthday.

Thankfully, it wasn't all bad news.  My lovely friend Amy has a tradition of baking everyone cupcakes on their birthdays.  Usually that involves the birthday friend articulating their favorite Betty Crocker flavor, but for me, she insisted on making them from scratch.

She was most concerned about making home-made frosting, and settled on fresh-cut strawberries in a sugar sauce.  It had to be spooned in immediately precedent to eating:

Everyone was amused.  Especially when she pulled out a stove lighter to light my candle.

We won't discuss those balloons.

Happy birthday to me!  Thanks Amy -- and everyone else -- for making my day special.  That's kind of a feat, especially since it was a Wednesday in law school with six hours of classes, homework to finish, and things to work on for the clinic.

And diarrhea.

Buy Me Some Peanuts

This week, I took my exception meal on Sunday, using up my quota of processed foods for the week at the White Sox game:

God only knows what was in that hot dog.  But it was coated in grilled onion and pepper, ketchup and mustard, and tasted like heaven.

Also, we should discuss this:

Around the seventh inning, nachos sounded really appealing, and I wanted to make the most of my exception meal for the week.  I have to tell you, though, that these were not nearly so good as the hot dogs.  I'd forgotten that rubbery texture processed cheese has, and how it hardens ever so slightly as it cools, eerily reminiscent of the Gak I played with in my youth.

No, I'll take a quarter pound of ground pork stuffed in intestine lining and topped with sugary tomato paste instead...

Baby Shower in Des Moines

This weekend, Matt's mom hosted an Easter baby shower for Katie and Greg. (!!!)  I don't want to go too far into the details, but suffice it to say that most of the treats on offer were prooooobably not strictly in line with my dietary regime.

Several weeks ago, Matt threatened to start a shadow blog, "Things Juliet Doesn't Tell You," so in the interests of avoiding a post on there, I'd better be honest.

I had a cupcake.

In my defense, though, I shared it with Matt.  And he ate the sugary bunny on top.

The spread was kind of amazing ...

The numerous quiches were all homemade, and sported various assortments of vegetables and cheeses: zucchini, mushroom, spinach, red pepper, onion / asiago, parmesan, swiss, cheddar.  We helped make them before the party started, so though the crusts were packaged and frozen, I felt a little more legitimate cutting myself a huge slice.

There were fresh berries and fruit salad...

... and approximately every kind of ham and bacon you could imagine.  Katie only eats "happy meat," so I dove into one from a local Iowa farm which Ron, Matt's stepdad, called "The Ham that God Made."  (As distinguished from the Hormel variety, labelled "The Ham that Hormel Made."

Later, after presents had been unwrapped and we lay, exhausted, in front of the NCAA semi-finals, there was pizza.  But I'll let you read about that on Matt's blog...

Confessions: Airport Food

Returned late last night from an amazing weekend visiting friends and scouting a wedding location in South Dakota.  Our travel dates corresponded, amazingly enough, with the running of the 3rd Annual Nemo Outhouse Race, and as always with the SD*TFA crew, the fun was out of control.  I'd post photos, but A) most of them were inappropriate and B) none of them had much to do with eating whole foods.  


I DID take some photos of things I ate this weekend, and this post is going to be something of a confessional.


In my own apartment, with my own utensils, my nearby Whole Foods, and all the time in the world (read: fifteen minutes between classes) I can cook anything I want and eating unprocessed is easy. 

When dashing through the airport at 6:00 AM on an empty stomach, it's not so easy.  

Hence:

That would be a Caribou Coffee dark chocolate latte.  God knows what's in it.  But it tasted like HEAVENNNNNNNNN.

I like this photo that Matt took; it captures the voices of angels I heard while sipping on that. 

Over the weekend, we ate out a lot, but mostly at places whom I would trust to use largely fresh, local, whole ingredients.  For example, a bowl of granola and fruit at Bully Blends tea and coffee shop, accompanied by a pitcher of whole milk:   

In perfect honesty, though, I didn't alter my orders or ask the server about what went into the dishes I wanted this weekend.  I just ate.

And drank:

  

You can't tell me those sprinkles are whole, even if everything else in the mug was (which it decidedly wasn't).  

And the return journey was worse.  We woke at 5:00 AM to reach the airport by our early flight time, only to discover that the flight had been delayed, then delayed again, then delayed again.  We didn't reach our connection in Minneapolis until 6:00, and didn't get home to Chicago until almost 10:00.  All of which meant that we dined on airport food all day.

... for breakfast...

... for lunch ...

And for dinner: the camera was out of batteries by this point, but Matt got a Wolfgang Puck margherita pizza, and I took one of their cold Caesar salads.  Didn't have much of the dressing or croutons, because I was feeling so disgusting from all the junk.  All the same, I don't feel like I can quite count it on the unprocessed side of my weekend equation.  

Several people, when I've told them about my yearlong challenge, have asked how I feel: have I noticed a substantial change for the better in my body?  I've been saying "yes," not out of any real conviction that my eating has improved my body image or health, but rather because I've been generally feeling good and healthy, and may as well attribute it to the eating regime as to anything else.  Coming out of this weekend, though, I can tell a major difference.  I feel decidedly draggy, heavy, bloated, and lethargic.  It's really astounding how a couple days off the wagon can so seriously impact your body.  And it makes me more determined and eager than ever to stick to my challenge. 

Anyways, this is sum of my travel confessions.  I'm back home and more ready than ever to cook and eat the kinds of meals I've been cooking and eating.  

And no more Caribou for a long, long time.