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Food, Nutrition and Recipes

Mar20

Food Fight

Written by // HIVisHilarious Categories // Food, Nutrition and Recipes, Women, Lifestyle, Living with HIV, Population Specific , HIVisHilarious

HIVisHilarious with a not so hilarious tale of blueberry muffins, cancer, anger and true love – with true love, of course, triumphing in the end.

Food Fight

Coming to you live, and 5lbs lighter!!! It may even be more than that now...I haven't weighed myself in a couple of days but I keep getting compliments and my food baby seems to have miscarried.  Maybe it's all the wholesome nutrition and juicing, maybe it’s the fear the Conservative Right has instilled in the uterus of American Women everywhere....either way, I'm less puffy in the pooch.

We are knee deep in chemo and it is kicking my Husband's ass and mine.  Watching him go through this is I'm sure nowhere near as hard as going through it physically like he has to, but it sucks none the less.  He is completely exhausted and hairless and, while his blood counts are so stable it leaves his doctors shocked and smiling, we are still scared.  He has done so well in terms of tolerating the chemo that they've upped his doses each round.  This time it will be upped again and also injected into his spine for extra fun and good measure. It took him a long time to come back to some sense of normality after this last round of chemo.  He has been completely worn out, covered in shingles and running fevers that don't seem to escalate until I'm ready to fall asleep.  Yet, oddly enough, the days he feels his best are the days I force him to drink fresh juice, eat well, and down wheatgrass shots like it's his J.O.B.  I believe -and there has been significant research to support my beliefs - that sugar feeds cancer.  And so for as much as Western Medicine encourages those with cancer to "eat whatever" they want, in my house, sugar, processed foods, and red meat are THE DEVIL.

I love my Husband so much.  It's gross.  If I could hang on him everyday like a baby gorilla, well I would.  So the thought of losing him is incomprehensible.  And the idea that this cancer (which has a high chance of recurrence) will come back one day....well... it ain't happening.  I compromise as best I can.  If he's having an off day and the only thing tickling his fancy is a cheeseburger, well that's what he has.  I try to make healthier options of whatever he's in the mood for.  I lay out very clear boundaries of what is and isn't acceptable if I can't be there to physically show him.  I have made it very clear what the "cancer food rules" are. 

It is for this reason that the blueberry muffins I came to find in my kitchen on Sunday morning sent me into a rage the likes of which he had never seen.  He was feeling good, had a good night’s sleep and was energized and well rested.  I was rushing to get to a yoga class and he was helping me find some breakfast to-go.  "How about these? I got these yesterday" and held up a box of flour, mixed with sugar, mixed with fake blueberries, mixed with sugar.  I snatched them out of his hands, "Are you stupid!?" (the nicest thing to say to your husband with cancer? no. but I wasn't feeling 'nice' ) "No. Why? These aren't good? I thought these were OK."  I looked at him with so much contempt and disgust, I thought he would melt. 

"NO! THESE AREN'T OK!!!!!!!"  I hurled the muffins at his head! "What!?!" he yelled. I stormed out of our kitchen and into the bedroom.  It was time to pull out the big guns.  It was time to lose my shit.  It was time to tell the complete and total truth.

"You have cancer. YOU have a cancer that COMES BACK! I don't know if you're enjoying this....laying around bald and sick but I fucking hate it.  I don't know if you feel like having chemicals poured through your body from time to time but I don't feel like watching you.  If your "plan" is to go through this hell and go back to eating shit and using 99cent soap full of toxic chemicals and just living life like you were before...let me know, I'll start looking for apartments because I didn't sign up to watch you die once every 2 years. I'm just not in the mood.  You're a grown fucking man. Read a label.  I'm exhausted. I can't work, take care of you, read cancer books, write about HIV, go to support groups because you won't and cook vegan meals you won't eat. You've got to help too.  So if all I'm asking of you is that you read a book on eating properly with cancer while you lay in bed all day and you're not up to it, just tell me because I'll start packing."

Yup. That was how it went.  It was mean, it was Oscar Worthy, it was TRUE.  And there we were.  Me, angry and mean. And him. Bald, sick, and crying.  I didn't feel sorry for him.  I felt like maybe he would get it this time.  OK...maybe I felt a little sorry but not too bad.  I knew I had told him what he needed to hear.

We got dressed and brushed our teeth.  By now I had missed my class. I had errands to run and he came with me.  We were silent in the car.  I almost felt like an angry Mom driving her kid to school. We stopped at a local health food store and he came in with me and wandered the aisles.  Moments later he was beside me with a can of low-sodium, organic soup.  "Is this OK?" he held it out for me to inspect.  I put my arms around him and he cried, "I'm sorry. I know you're right. I'm sorry, I just don't think." my heart hurt.  "I'm sorry too. I don't mean to hurt you but it's just a few stupid things that can add up to a better, healthier picture." He nodded his head. There we stood surrounded by apple cider vinegar, and sea salts, hugging and crying.  Exhausted but stronger than ever in our love for one another.

The muffins went in the trash when we got home.  Those fucking muffins.

Mar18

Haute Poutine

Written by // Ken Monteith - Montreal Correspondent Categories // Food, Nutrition and Recipes, Lifestyle, Ken Monteith

PositiveLite.com asked our Montreal guy Ken Monteith to write about that Quebecois favourite Poutine. Here is the deep-fried report.

Haute Poutine

Well, since a certain "Pierre Poutine" has been in the news of late, I have finally decided it is time to give in to Bob's persistent exhortations to write about this gooey delight we know as poutine

I say "we know" rather loosely, because I suspect I am about to introduce you to some incarnations of poutine that do not resemble the dish you might love to "dis". Oh yes, there are many forms of poutine, and I suspect that the ones seen beyond the borders of Québec are but pale imitations of what they might be. This is a story of what might be.

Yes, every small greasy spoon and hamburger joint here has its version of poutine that follows a pretty basic recipe: fries, gravy and some kind of cheese (curd if you're going to be authentic, grated if you're not). But you have to step over to the specialists if you are to appreciate the variety that can be poutine.

One such specialist is La Banquise. A staple of the Plateau Mont-Royal (one of the coolest neighbourhoods on the planet, we are told), La Banquise offers no fewer than 28 versions of poutine on its menu, often drawing a crowd such that you will need to wait in line to get in. Believe me, it is worth the wait, as the poutine taquise (with guacamole, sour cream and fresh chopped tomatoes) will attest.

I recently discovered a new kid on the block, at least one that had recently opened a branch on a block more easily accessible to yours truly. Poutineville bills itself as "poutine reinvented" and you will see why when you visit their lovely website. My recent visit led me to bring out my creative side to make my own poutine from the checklist menu, while my companion chose from the pre-set selections. A little mix-up gave me the form of potatoes he had ordered, and vice-versa, but I have to say that I thoroughly enjoyed my creation of "patates écrasées" with chicken, brie and a lovely wine sauce. Oh yes, this experience took poutine up a notch.

Higher up the old cuisine chain would be the higher-end restaurants and their forays into poutine. Le Canard Libéré and Au Pied de Cochon serve classic-looking poutines, but the fries are cooked in duck fat, making them particularly special. There was even a rumour once of the chef of Toqué! having put together a lovely poutine featuring foie gras, but you won't find this on their regular menu. Not even the little sister of Toqué!, the Brasserie T! in a box on the sidewalk next to Place des Arts lists poutine, despite many dishes accompanied by fries.

Still further up the chain, an experiment by award-winning chef Martin Juneau of La Montée de lait. I haven't tried this and it looks like the restaurant may indeed be closed, but I have managed to capture a still photo of his "poutine jenga" and a link to a short video of him explaining his creation to Urbania magazine.  Even if you don't speak French, I dare you to watch his short video and then tell me you wouldn't want to have a taste of whatever he wants to dish out.

So the question, my friends, ends up being not "Is poutine worthy of my appetite?", but "Is my appetite worthy of poutine as it can be?"

Feb27

Waisting Away, My Ass

Written by // HIVisHilarious Categories // Food, Nutrition and Recipes, Women, Lifestyle, Living with HIV, Population Specific , HIVisHilarious

“I'll admit it was a little ridiculous how excited I was the day we started meds because the glee I felt had nothing to do with our Viral Loads dropping so much as my waist size.”

Waisting Away, My Ass

Firstly, I want to apologize for my lapse in HIV Hilarity.  As many of my 'tweeps' are aware, my Husband was recently diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma. So I'm balancing full-time job, writer, HIV, chemo and cancer caregiver.  Sometimes  I'm so busy making sure he is eating the right food, reading the right books, getting enough rest, I forget that I'm also sick.

Twice I've realized, late at night, that I've gone an entire day without taking my own meds. Needless to say, sometimes being funny is the last thing I want to be.  Which is all the more reason why I need to.  So, as I lay here beside my little Lympho-maniac, I wanted to fill you all in 

For me the 'silver lining' of my HIV diagnosis was supposed to be that I would finally be thin with big tits.  I have big tits.  But my weight is always somewhere between 1950's Curvaceous Pin Up, and Pleasantly Plump.  I was looking forward to this "waisting" I had heard so much about ever since the bad news.  Finally...with my collar bones exposed, would I no longer loathe dressing rooms and all of my girlfriends would hate me for eating whatever I want instead of the other way around - because my 'cocktail' would be keeping me alive and keeping the weight off.  I'll admit it was a little ridiculous how excited I was the day we started meds because the glee I felt had nothing to do with our viral loads dropping so much as my waist size. 

Yet, here I am, almost 4 months later and while my VL is undetectable, my thighs are as big as tree trunks.  And my belly pooch has fast-tracked from "food baby"  in to the realm of, "fatty mcfat fat".  I decided to weigh myself last night-because spending 11 hours in the emergency room with my Husband the night before wasn't torture enough- and it's bad, kids!  I'm fat. What's even more annoying is that I have plenty of reasons to take good care of myself and eat salads with a smile on my face; it's just that nothing seems  quite as satisfying.....or comforting, as chocolate cake.  Hot chocolate.  Pasta.   They make me feel safe, warm , and happy, even if it's just for a second.  It's times like these I wish I could get on board with intravenous drugs.  At least heroin would make me skinny.

At this moment in time I feel very much trapped by where my life has taken me.  I love my Husband more than anything but my days with him are covered in a blanket of fear.  Every cough, every move, I am wondering what they mean and what I can do to fix them.  Ever since our HIV diagnosis I've had a physical reaction to disruption of any kind.  My tongue feels like it turns to stone and my entire body feels cold and violently  shakes.  I'm starting to feel like maybe I'm going to live my life permanently in this manifestation of stress.  And that terrifies me.  So I go to McDonalds.

HIV sucks, but for the most part it seems pretty predictable.  Take the drugs, your numbers drop where they need to and go up where they should.  But Cancer is one unpredictable bitch.  I could handle chemo if you could promise, "his hair will fall out and sometimes his stomach may get upset".  But fevers, pulled muscles, the possibility of a mass....this is shit I can't deal with.  And how I wish my  method of coping was to starve myself rather than drown myself in a sea of processed sugar.  I wish I had the energy to walk into my kitchen right now and chop veggies to make juice and write positive affirmations.  Alas, I would much rather sip chocolate milk ,watch Whitney Houston's funeral  five more times, and write my suicide note.  I fantasize daily about just fainting in the middle of a mall so I can have a couple days to myself in the hospital.  I was in a car accident earlier this month and I thought it would buy me some time to relax....instead I felt guilty laying around my house  watching the cancer patient take care of me. 

I couldn't believe it when I spent $40 on diet pills a couple weeks ago.  Especially when the person who sold them to me told me they would make me jittery and I'd probably make my heart race.  I need that like a hole in the head.  But what’s worse, is I spent $40 and the damn pills just sit on my dresser.  I'm not even using them!!!!

At the end of the day I have a choice: I can keep going or I can stop, hop on a treadmill and knock this shit off.  I know sooner than later I'm going to make the right choice but I really don't feel like it and I'm not sure where the energy is going to come from, only that there's only so much my jeans can take.  And I know that it's hard to fill the voids in your soul with good things when you feel tied to your home, your husband, your life....it’s hard to leave and say, "I'm going to go to yoga".  But I guess I better do something.  So here I am....letting you guys know your girl is a fat-ass and I sure would love any advice or tips you have to share.  And I expect you to hold me to it...that in two weeks when I check back in, I'll be 5lbs lighter.  And hopefully not in rehab with Bobbi Kristina.

Jan18

Seville orange marmalade - the best ever!

Written by // John McCullagh - Publisher Categories // Contributors, Food, Nutrition and Recipes, Lifestyle, John McCullagh

Breakfast would not be breakfast for British-born John McCullagh without a slice of toast and home-made Seville orange marmalade.

Seville orange marmalade - the best ever!

 

Marmalade is jam made from citrus fruit. It’s common on the breakfast tables of my native Britain, less so in Canada and the U.S. While you can buy it in supermarkets, it’s never as tasty as home-made.

The classic and, to my mind, best marmalade is made from the intensely sharp and bitter Seville oranges that, when mixed with sugar, create a mouthwateringly bittersweet jam. Originally, these oranges were grown in southern Spain, where, interestingly, they are rarely consumed, being mostly exported to Britain. They are now cultivated across the Mediterranean region as well as in California. It’s from that state that the Seville oranges found in Canadian stores come from.

Seville oranges are available only in January and February each year so now’s the time to buy them. Unfortunately, they’re not always easy to find in North America, so you may have to hunt for them in high-end grocery and fruit and vegetable stores. In a pinch, you can substitute a mixture of regular oranges, lemons and grapefruit but it’s not the same as traditional Seville orange marmalade.

johnsev1

Marmalade is made much the same way as jam, except that the peel is included during the boiling. All citrus fruits are high in pectin. This is contained principally in the pith and the stones (or pips, as they’re called in the U.K.) and is most easily extracted by tying them into a muslin or gauze cloth which is then added to the fruit in the pan.

Before any sugar can be added, the fruit needs fairly prolonged cooking to soften the peel and reduce the flesh to a pulp. As a rule, one to one-and-a-half hours should be adequate for this softening-up process and to drive off the excess water. The boiling time after sugar is added should be no longer than 15 to 20 minutes for a good set. Unnecessary boiling over the specified time will result in a dark-looking and badly set marmalade.

You’ll need:

  •  1.5 kg (3 lb) Seville oranges
  • juice of 2 lemons
  • 3.5 litres (about 6½ U.S. cups) water
  • 2.75 kg (about 12 U.S. cups) granulated sugar

You’ll also need a preserving pan or a large saucepan, a 25 cm (9 in) square of muslin or gauze, a juicer or lemon squeezer, a funnel and ten 350 ml (1 lb) capacity Mason jars.

Wash the oranges then cut them in half. Squeeze out the juice and pour into the pan, reserving the stones. Tie the stones and any remaining pulp into a piece of muslin or gauze and add to the juice in the pan. Slice the orange peel without removing the pith into thick or thin shreds, according to your preference, then add to the pan.

Pour the water into the pan with the lemon juice and bring to the boil. Reduce the heat and simmer for one-and-a-half hours or until the peel is very soft and disintegrates when squeezed between the fingers. Remove the muslin or gauze bag, squeezing the juice back into the pan.

Add the sugar and stir continuously over a low heat until it’s dissolved. Then boil rapidly until the setting point is reached (see below). Skim the marmalade as soon as it reaches the setting point to remove the scum. Allow to cool slightly and then pour it into clean, dry and warm, but not hot, Mason jars with the aid of the funnel. Cover immediately, label and store in a cool, dark place.

This recipe should make about 4.5 kg (or 10 lb) of marmalade.

johnsev2a

There are several ways to check for the setting point. You can dip a wooden spoon into the boiling marmalade, allow it to cool slightly so that a thin skin forms, then pour it back into the pan. The setting point is reached when the drops of marmalade run off the tilted spoon in a large blob. Or you can use a thermometer in the centre of the jam but without letting it touch the bottom of the pan. The setting point is reached at a temperature of 104° celsius (or 220° fahrenheit), providing sufficient acid and pectin is present.

The easier way, however, is the saucer test. Chill several saucers in the refrigerator before you start to make the marmalade. When you think the marmalade is ready, put a teaspoon of it on one of the cold saucers and leave to cool slightly. Gently push your finger through the marmalade, the surface of which will crinkle if it’s at the setting point. If it’s not, continue to boil and give it the same test at ten-minute intervals until it does set.

Now you’re ready to make some toast and try your marmalade. Enjoy!

Source: Burrow, J. (1979). Home Preserves. London: Sundial Books.

Jan03

Best ever Stuffed Peppers

Written by // Bob Leahy - Contributing Editor Categories // Food, Nutrition and Recipes, Lifestyle, Bob Leahy

Bob Leahy In praise of comfort foods that have fallen out of favour, only to be revived in new clothes, like this super Mexican Stuffed Pepper recipe from Clean Eating.

Best ever Stuffed Peppers

Funny how there are fashions in food. Things go in and out of style without our hardly noticing, until we try to remember how long it’s been since we’ve seen some staples of days gone by.

How long has it been, for instance, since you’ve had Swiss steak? (Remember Swiss steak?) Or stuffed green peppers? Or goulash, or beef stroganoff, or chicken paprikash?  I miss them. Good comfort food all.

It’s good to see other dishes like this live on.- things like lasagna, which remains ubiquitous.  Also alive and well are common British favourites like shepherds pie and rice pudding . You can even find a steak and kidney pie  if you shop around. (The Brits love their comfort food, always have – and they are good at it too.)

Comfort food has, of course, undergone something of a revival.  I’ve noticed those little recipe books at the supermarket check-out counter often seem to feature comfort food these days. I read them while I’m waiting for check-out and sometimes even buy them if the photos are persuasive enough.  Same goes with the foodie magazines . They are often all about comfort food these days.

Wikipedia confirms it. Here is what they say: “Comfort food is food prepared traditionally that may have a nostalgic or sentimental appeal, or simply provide an easy-to-eat, easy-to-digest meal rich in calories, nutrients, or both. Comfort foods may be foods that have a nostalgic element either to an individual or a specific culture. One recent development .... is the advent of fine dining comfort food restaurants that feature more careful cooking and presentation, higher quality and fresh organic ingredients, along with consequently higher prices."

In other words, comfort food has become trendy, calories be damned.

bobrecipe2

But it can also be healthy.  Believe it or not, because most people know I am a fan of all things unhealthy, I subscribe to a magazine called “Clean Eating”. (Bonus, the subscription price is less than $4 an issue.) That “Clean Eating” title, of course, hardly describes my diet in general, infused as it is with more chocolate, pastries and fried things than most people would admit to - but I have no shame. No, my treasured "Clean Eating" magazines arrive in the mail, full of gorgeous pictures of sickenly healthy-looking food that I would aspire to live on if I was more virtuous.

Occasionally a Clean Eating recipe inspires me to put on the proverbial apron. I’m featuring one such recipe here today. Iit's a good one, old-fashioned comfort food with a twist, a spin on the stuffed peppers you probably haven’t had in two decades.. This recipe is for Mexican Stuffed Peppers, which if you care about these things, have a measly 290 calories per serving.

The recipe also uses a slow cooker, a utensil for which I have developed, if not full mastery, at least the ability to turn out surprisingly tasty fare. Slow cookers are au courant too, if the supermarket checkout counter reading fare is any indication, so this dish scores double points for being comfort food AND prepared  in the slow cooker. Triple points if you add in the nutrition factor.

My main criteria though is plain and simple; does it taste good?  And this one does, extremely so, in fact. These Mexican Stuffed Peppers get the PositiveLite.com seal of approval for taste, plus ease of preparation and (begrudgingly) nutrition. The recipe (it serves six) also scores if you like to make up a batch to  freeze what you don’t eat.  (You will only need one of these per person, per meal)

MEXICAN STUFFED PEPPERS

Ingredients

  • 1 large can chopped tomatoes
  • 1½ cups chopped yellow onion, divided (or any onion you have
  • 5  cloves of garlic (or minced equivalent) divided
  • 3 tsp chilli powder, divided
  • 3 tsp ground cumin, divided
  • 1 tsp dried oregano
  • ½ tsp salt, divided
  • ¼ cup whole plus ½ cup chopped fresh cilantro leaves divided
  • 1lb extra lean ground beef
  • 1/8 tsp fresh ground black pepper
  • 2 cups grated zucchini
  • 1 small jalapeno pepper, seeded and minced
  • ½ cup frozen corner
  • 1 can black beans
  • ¾ cup low-fat Mexican blend cheese, divided
  • 6 red green or yellow bell peppers, tops and seeds  removed and discarded

1.In a blender process tomatoes, ½ cup onion, 2 whole garlic cloves, 2 tsp chilli powder, 1 tsp cumin, oregano, 1/4 tsp salt, and 1/4 cup whole cilantro until smooth. Pour ½ cup mixture  in to 5-6 qt slow cooker and set remaining  mixture aside.

2, In a large bowl, add beef, remaining 1 tsp chilli powder, 2 tsp cumin, ¼ tsp salt, black pepper and zucchini. With your hands, mix thoroughly until well combined. Add minced garlic, remaining 1 cup onion, jalapeno, corn, chopped cilantro, beans and ½ cup cheese; mix until well combined.

3. Pack beef mixture tightly into peppers, dividing evenl . Arrange peppers, cut side up , in slow cooker. Pour remaining tomato mixture over top.  Cover and cook for six hours on low.  Sprinkle remaining ¼ cup cheese on peppers and cook for a few more minutes, until cheese melts.  Serve peppers with sauce, dividing evenly.

A final word: there are two other pluses about this dish. I don’t think I've ever had our house smell so good as when cooking this. Peppers have a distinctively pleasant smell while cooking. Secondly, the juice left over is extremely good – a soup made with similar ingredients, perhaps filled out with chicken broth, would I think be stunning.

Dec19

Food Glorious Food

Written by // Denis Robinson - London, UK Correspondent Categories // Food, Nutrition and Recipes, Lifestyle, Living with HIV, Denis Robinson

Raise your glasses for a toast to . . .TOAST! Our UK correspondent Denis Robinson sings its praises.

Food Glorious Food

So Bob Leahy asked me if I could write a column about food for my next instalment to PositivelIte.com, and I have to say this has challenged me hugely on more than one level. I bemoaned the fact that it’s not a topic that I enjoy therefore why should I write about it. But my best friend gave me a metaphorical slap by telling me I had been set an assignment and I had to do it. I bitched and moaned that I am not a writer but a hairdresser and why should I? But Simon was quick to point out that anyone reading my column views me as a writer so I should get it on with it.

Bob had to chase me up and ask for a submission like a teacher having to ask for homework to be done or a boss asking why I hadn’t reached my deadline on a project.  I made all sorts of excuses in my email to him but I set my alarm an hour and a half earlier than normal so I could write this.  So here goes

FOOD – It’s stuff you eat

You see, I’m not a foodie. It’s fuel to keep the fire burning. I can pretty much tell you what I am going to eat by the time of day and day of the week. I have only had one foodgasm in my life so I only have a little bit of an idea what everyone is talking about when they get over excited.

I was asked recently if I had to chose one meal to eat for the remainder of my days what would it be? I admit struggling with this, not because there are so many wonderful dishes to chose from but because I couldn’t decide between lightly pan fried Calamari and…………..TOAST. Sacrilege, huh? But I admit I LOVE toast.  I love all things bread, if I’m honest, but I also love calamari. So I wrestled with the question and made a decision. If I had to chose one meal to eat for the remainder of my days it would be ‘calamari on toast’ . You see what I did there?  Best of both worlds and whichever element I wasn’t in the mood for I would leave on my plate (odds are high it would be the squid)!

denistoast2

Now the anomaly here is, I am actually a great cook. Very imaginative and experimental. I enjoy nothing more than creating a meal for others. However when I dish up, I am happy to sit back with a nice glass of GOOD wine and watch others enjoy.

So it turns out I am a feeder more than an eater, as my ex-partner who gained six kilos within three months of us moving in together will attest. Even his family will rhapsodise over my skills in the kitchen. On the first Christmas we went to visit them in Venice, my gift to them was to cook them Christmas dinner. Mirko had been very unforthcoming as to what I could get his parents as a gift, Every time I asked him for ideas he said in the way only an Italian native can “don worry abad it”.

But I am a well-raised Irish boy and I did worry about it, and when I discovered that his parents were booking us into a restaurant for Christmas lunch the problem was solved. I would cook for them.

It started out as a meal for four but the guest list rapidly grew  as word got out. So on Christmas Day 2005 I found myself in stranger’s kitchen preparing a feast for 16 hungry Italians. I had emailed a shopping list to his mama and secreted ingredients that I could not do without in my luggage and at 5am that Christmas morn I set about feeding the masses.

And despite nerves on everyone’s part it was a success. Even his brother-in-law I had never met came back for seconds, Diego was apparently a very picky eater and his wife had pre prepared his favourite dish of beef and potatos and brought it with just in case.

When I heard this I laughed and said "are you sure he is not Irish? " But with a name like Diego of course, he couldn’t be, right? When he arrived he was a hulk of a man, 6ft4  and 18 stone of solid mass with the brightest orange hair you have ever seen. There is a small possibility that there is a dark brooding opera loving pasta eating heart throb running a farm in County Clare who is puzzled about why he doesn’t fit in but that’s a another story.

denistoast3

I guess I have always eaten well if a little boringly myself. My family were a, meat and two veg for most meals type, with the occasional treat thrown in (Fish and Chips). My father’s idea of a nutritious dinner was a slice of bread with jam (jelly) spread over it.

So my own needs are simple, having always eaten well if not adventurously I didn’t feel any need to look into changing my diet to improve my health after I was diagnosed HIV+

But since Bob asked me to write this column I will admit (begrudgingly) that I have been thinking a little more about what I eat and what’s on offer in this city I call home.

It’s not hard to eat well in London. Our reputation for stodgy food is one that is long overdue to leave these shores. Any area I spend time in has everything from great steak to wonderful sushi to home cooked comfort food available. And I will admit to laziness and I do eat out a lot.

But when at home it’s mostly ….Toast. But if I am in the mood for comfort food then you really will have a long way to go to beat my Grilled Cumberland Sausage  and Sweet Potato Mash with a dollop of home-made green Pesto.

Another little use for pesto by the way is Smoked Salmon, with Crème Fraiche,  Pesto (red or green) and some freshly squeezed lemon juice.

On Toast of course

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

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