#I am craving fresh vegetables and a hot meal that someone else has cooked

[cryptids-hate-capitalism]

My PhD stipend is a week late because of a uni fuck up. I have had a maxxed out overdraft for nearly 2 weeks. For the last fortnight I've been living off thoughts and prayers. I'm so hungry during my induction workshops.. just ughhh

Pay me you fucks!!

[shystoryrebel]

Antim Shringar (The last make-up)

Sat by the almost extinguished pyre fire, father and son were protecting themselves from the biting cold: inside, a small room, covered by tin shade, Sita, the son's young wife lay and writhing in labour pain. They pressed their heads between their knees, hearing the heart-piercing screams emerging from her mouth, at short intervals. Everything was drowned in miseries in a dark winter night. The entire village had been wrapped into the darkness, lay at a little distance. "It is very hard to survive. She has been writing in pain the entire day. Go and see her condition." Said father Pundit Vishnu Prasad. Son, Shankar Lal said in a very sad tone," We poor pundits have no life. I pray to God, give her death, so that she may be relieved from all the pain and miseries of life. What's the use of my going if I cannot do anything for her?" "You are very insensitive! You have enjoyed a happy time with her for so many years-be kind to her." "My heart is very weak, I can't see her writhing and thrashing on the cot." It was a family of Brahman priests and respected in the entire area. Father and son were very disciplined and hard working. Rest and slackness were not in their character. Even then, their earning was very little because in Hindus people do not give enough money or offerings to priest for religious rituals. Although Hindus give, money and offerings very liberally to eunuchs and maulvis at dargahs due to fear and superstitions spread by Comrade Ali Mia that eunuchs and dargahs have the divine healing powers. Being Brahman priest, nobody gave them work in fields. Comrade Ali Mia has spread another rumour and superstition that if a Brahman works in the field, there will be famine or droughts. So Harijan and Muslims labourers used to hit them by pebbles if they ever tried to work in the fields. Therefore, their only income was the little offering from performing the last rites of the dead Hindus and from Braham Bhoj or mirtue bhoj (Feast for the dead). Once, Sita, covering her face entered the agriculture farm of Ali Mia. However, she was recognized and caught. Comrade Ali Mia beat her and tried to molest her sexually. However, all the other Harijan women pounced on him and beat up Ali Mia and protected Sita, being raped by Ali Mia. After that incident, Comrade Ali Mia fled from the village. The family of Pundit Vishnu Prasad was a family of ascetics. They were self-disciplined and achieved contentment and endurance. This became their nature. They have a very simple life. They have only a few kitchen pots and utensils in the room. They cover their bodies with the clothes and shrouds, removed by the relatives of the dead people, before burning the pyre. Although, they were very poor but free from tensions, grief, and debts. All respected them. They never asked for any help or money. The villagers used to give vegetables, sugar, flour etc, free of cost. Pundit Vishnu Prasad had spent seventy years of his life in this virtuous manner, and Shankar Lal, like a dutiful son, was following in his father's piousness-- or rather, was making his name even brighter. Both father and son were sitting by the fire, near an extinguished pyre. They did nothing throughout the day. The wife of Pundit Vishnu Prasad passed away long back. The marriage of Shankar Lal had taken place two years back. Sita changed the environment of the family. She started grinding grain and cooking meal at home instead of waiting for some food given in Dakshina to quench the hunger. After she came, they both became even more energetic and industrious. If someone calls them to religious work, then with splendid concern they demanded half offerings. That ill-fated woman was dying today in childbirth. In addition, these two have no means to give her medical care. Being Brahman, there was no government scheme for them, unlike so many for Harijans and Muslims. Vishnu Prasad said, "Go see what condition she's in. We'll have to go for a doctor-- what else! And here even the doctor demands a fee—we will have to borrow money." Shankar Lal said, "I'm afraid to go in." "What are you scared of? I'm here, outside." "Why don't you go and see pitaji." "I never even left the side of my wife for seven days when she died. Then, won't she be embarrassed in my presence? I've never seen her face-- and today I should see her uncovered body? She won't even have physical ease: if she notices me, she won't be able to move around freely." "I'm thinking if a child is born? We have nothing in our house, sulfur, dried ginger, cow ghee, jaggery, oil-- there's nothing at all in the house." "God will give everything if He gives a child—entire village will rush to give us everything without request. When your sister was born, there was nothing in the house, but villagers, showered all help, without request." They had eaten nothing since the day before. They have tears in their eyes. Then Pundit Vishnu Prasad remembered the marriage of the son of Kirori Mal, a rich Harijan, in which he had taken part a month after the marriage of his son, Shankar Lal. The dishes that had been eaten by him in the feast were an unforgettable occasion in his life, and even today, its memory was unsullied in his mind. With tears in his mind, he said, "I can't forget that banquet. Never in my life, had I that variety of food. The bride's family fed the best items to everyone, whatever they wanted! Old and young, everybody ate puris—cooked with pure ghee! Paneer, dal makhani, chutney, raita, four types of green vegetables, yoghurt, sweets, ice cream, milk and what not. I cannot tell you more, how I enjoyed that feast! Whatever you crave, just ask! There was no limit. People devoured so much, that nobody could even drink any cold drink. In addition, there the waiters were—serving hot, fresh, sweet, perfumed pastries before all! They just press on to take something. When everybody cleaned his or her mouths and hands, a delicious pan was served as well. In the end, nobody could stand and just staggered off to lay down on the bed. That Harijan has a big heart like a feudal lord. Feeling amazed about the story of the grand feast, Shankar Lal said," Why don't you obtain a fake caste certificate and enjoy caste quotas and unlimited government freebies?" "We can also give such feast if the government becomes generous to poor people like us." It is a different issue. Now everybody thinks about vote banks. We Brahmans do not get any government help. For political leaders, we are useless people. There is no shortage of money, but when it comes to supporting the poor, they think about the economy." "Or we must construct a Mazar outside this crematorium. Foolish Hindus will shower offerings on it" "Are you in your senses?" "I am thinking about our miseries. No reservation, no freebies, no government help, no big offerings! Although we wear the shrouds and last rites clothes and eat the food offered to dead souls." "You are very right. I have spent my entire life in burning other's dead bodies. However, I do not have even a single penny to arrange a doctor to my daughter in law. " They took a deep sigh, drank some water, covered themselves with blankets, and waiting for some miracle to happen and the cry of a newborn baby. And helpless Sita was still writing. After some time, Shankar went into the room and saw his wife had become cold. He shook her but there was no life in her. Her bulging and stony eyes swelled upward. Her body became blue. The baby also died in her stomach. Shankar came crying to his father. Seeing his son crying, the father also started crying. They began loudly weeping and beating their chests and heads. Hearing their weeping and wailing, their neighbours also came running. They were trying to control and console them. They had no money for the last rites, shroud and wood. However, being self-respecting, they were still not ready to borrow money. Like a doctor, father Pundit Vishnu Prasad was waiting for some emergency call from some devotee, so that he may get some money for the last rites. Father and son were weeping and weeping. Sitting near the dead body of Sita, they were narrating the situation that led to her death. With tear-filled eyed, the father said," I am in great trouble. Shankar's wife passed away, yesternight. Entire day she writhed in pain; we two sat outside the room all the time. We have no money to give her medicines or any treatment. Therefore, she died. We're ruined. Our family is finished without her." Villagers were very compassionate people. They became very sad, listening to reality. They all wanted to help them. Usually, they come, whenever they're called. All of a sudden, a relative of Kirori Mal came with the message that the daughter in law of Kirori Mal has committed suicide. Everybody was shocked to listen to this news. The messenger wanted to take Pundit Vishnu Prasad with him to perform the last rites of Dhanvati, the deceased daughter in law of Kirori Mal. However, he was reluctant to tell this thing to Vishnu Prasad seeing the death of his own daughter in law. The villagers were also against Pundit Ji to go there to perform her last rites when there is a death in his family. However, Pundit Vishnu Prasad was a dutiful man. He said," His need is higher than mine is. My duty is to help my villagers." He immediately rushed to the house of Kirori Mal. The men-women of the village came and looked at the body. They shed tears at its helplessness and sat by it. Kirori Mal's family was a family of Harijans, and villainous in the entire village. Due to reservation for their caste Kirori Mal and his son, Lakh Pat grabbed good government job in Delhi. However, they were work shy, inefficient, and corrupt. If Kirori Mal goes for the work for one day, then he takes leave for two days. Son was much more loafer that if he works for an hour, then he smoked his cigarette for two hours. Thus, nobody likes them in the office and the village as well. But they earned a lot due to their links with missionaries. They lured poor Harijans to convert to Christianity. Fed up with the bad behaviour of father-son duo, Dhanwati committed suicide. Kirori Mal was very shrewd; and instead of joining tough agriculture work, he grabbed the work of clever, scheming, and tricksters missionaries and a government job. However, undeniably, he was not intelligent in understanding government rules and working. In such a society, the birth of this kind of mindset was no reason for surprise. Those who knew how to exploit the systems' weaknesses were much comfortable. When Vishnu Prasad reached the house of Kirori Mal, he said, "There is enough wood for her cremation." Kirori Mal said, "Yes, there's sandal (Chandan) wood too. We have bought an expensive shroud. We also have suhagan (married woman) attire, made of silk fabric." Vishnu Prasad looked toward the sky as if persuading the angels to be born in the next life as Harijan. "Why does the world is too hostile to the Brahmins who always pray for the happiness of the world? Some people get everything even without demanding." Grieving family women gave the last bath to Dhanwati with gangajal. After that, complete make-up was done and the suhagan attire was made to wear on her dead body. The funeral procession started with the chant of ‘Shree Ram naam satya hai, Satya bolo Satya hai.' At the crematorium, the shroud and suhagan attire were removed from the body and donated to Pundit Vishnu Prasad. The body was kept on the pyre. The fire was lit and the story of poor Dhanwati was over. After completing all the rituals, tired and exhausted, Vishnu Prasad, went back to his house with shroud, suhagan attire, and other make-up items donated by the family members of Dhanwati. Some elderly village women gave last bath to Sita with gangajal. Last make-up was done to the dead body. Shankar put the sindur in the parting of her hair. In the end, again the suhagan attire was made to wear to the dead body of Sita. The shroud covered body. All these things, Vishnu Prasad, brought from the last rites of Dhanwati. Someone gave woods, others gave other items used in the last rites. People cut the bamboo poles, and so on. And, in the afternoon the pyre was lit by Shankar Lal. Vishnu Prasad bowed his head in a pious manner. "Certainly Dhanwati will receive the blessings. Bhagwan, you sit inside the hearts-- take her to heaven! We're both giving her our deepest blessing. She has got a shroud, and a very good one--a much better than we would have bought." As the darkness grows deeper and the stars glittered more brightly, the din in the village became lesser. Gloom was in the atmosphere. The silence was in the air. People came to the crematorium, only to taste the pleasure of self-forgetfulness. More than gloom, the air here purifies the spirits. The blow of life seizes them and pulls them here. In addition, for a while, they forget whether they were alive or dead. And these two, father and son, were still lost. Everyone's eyes had settled on them. How ill-fated they were! They had no family now. Vishnu Prasad said, "Give her our blessing. She whose glow has brightened this place has died, but our blessing will certainly reach her. Bless her with every hair on our body-- these are the payment for very hard labour." Shankar again looked toward the sky and said, "She'll go to Heaven-- she'll become the Queen of Heaven!" "Yes, son, she'll go to Heaven! She never troubled anyone, she never exploited anyone; even while dying, If she doesn't go to Heaven, then will those corrupt people go-- who loot the poor with both hands, and go to the dargahs to wash away their sin, and offer chadors on the concrete Mazars?" This mood of piousness too changed; unpredictability is the unique power of death. It was the turn of gloom and pain. Shankar said, "But the poor Sita suffered a lot in her life. Even her death was so agonizing!" Covering his eyes with his hands, he began to weep and sobbed loudly. Vishnu Prasad consoled him: "Why do you weep, son? Be happy that she's been liberated from this web of illusion. She's escaped from the trap; she was very lucky that she was able to smash the bonds of worldly illusion so quickly." Far in their luxurious bungalow, Kirori Mal and his son Lakh Pat, both were taking peg after peg of expensive wine, to forget the pain of the death of Dhanwati.

[planthiseatthat]

How Do I Pick My Meals?

I am a person who loves to cook and is absolutely crazy for food. There are lots of people in this world who hate cooking, and there are also people in this world who only eat for sustenance; food just isn’t their jam (pun 10000% intended). That’s a perfectly fine experience, it just happens not to be mine. I am constantly thinking about my next meal with great anticipation. For me, this is all part of the fun and enjoyment, which is why the system works for me. Your mileage will vary! No judgement!

My own personal guidance system, listed in no particular order...

What part of the production process is this?

I read an article in the New York Times Health section a couple of years ago about the effect that eating within a 12-hour window has on the metabolism, and after some obviously-not-very-scientific experimentation, discovered that it really works for me when it comes to maintaining or losing weight, and inversely, can really directly contribute to my own weight gain. As with everything, this may not be true for you. Don’t @me with your well-actuallys... do what feels right for you.

When I’m in rehearsal mode, I am up at 6:45am, out the door at 8:15am, at the rehearsal studio by 9am, breaking for lunch at ~2pm, leaving the studio by 7pm, and home by 8pm. If I eat breakfast at 7:30am, that means a couple of things... I will have to go probably 6½ hours between full meals, and I will automatically be breaking my own 12-hour window rule by eating dinner after I get home. This means that I’m going to plan for a protein-heavy breakfast, a substantial morning snack, a delicious lunch that will be the heaviest meal I’ll eat all day, a quality afternoon snack, and a very, very, very light dinner; I can’t go to bed with an empty stomach, so I’ll prepare something with high-impact flavor and texture but a low calorie/sugar count.

When I’m in 10-out-of-12 mode, I am usually up before dawn, home after midnight, and on my feet for most of the day, so all caloric and 12-hour window bets are off, but I try to focus on big flavors, filling food with a high protein content. I do also try to stop eating by 9pm because otherwise sleep can be elusive, no matter how tired I may be. I’ll be eating breakfast at home, but snacks, lunch, and dinner are all at the theater.

When I’m in show mode, I can sleep 'til 9:30am on a matinee or rehearsal day, and not set an alarm on a one evening show day! I’m out the door at 11 or 11:30am depending on my call time for the former, and sometime between 4-5:30pm depending on my call time for the latter. So it’s sometimes lunch and dinner at the theater, sometimes just lunch, and sometimes just dinner. No matter what, I'm able to cook a fresh hot breakfast once I’m in show mode, and I may not need to pre-prepare any snacks. I try to make a dinner that can be eaten early-ish and sustain me late so that I can avoid snacking when I get home sometime between 11:30pm and midnight. (But, in all honesty, I usually snack when I get home.)

I’m lactose intolerant!

Fun fact: lactose-intolerance can look like many things. To get graphic for a minute: it gives me the most painful diarrhea imaginable (I say this having had salmonella). But it could be worse, because I’m also the kind of lactose intolerant person that has a decent-ish lactose limit, so I can handle hard cheeses, certain processed ricottas, certain yogurts, commercially-produced ice cream, and so on. I cook with Lactaid products, but I don't depend on the pills because it feels too risky. I know what brand and style of sour cream works with my tummy chemistry. I eat soft cheeses in the comfort and privacy of my own home. Etc. The last thing I need is a digestive emergency at work; believe me... it has happened, it was mortifying, and it still haunts me.

Vitamins, minerals, and protein!

Am I eating enough fruits and vegetables? Am I getting enough calcium? (My mom has osteoarthritis, plus I have a pin in my heel holding a fracture together, so this is a real thing I think about constantly.) Am I close to my period, so does my body want extra iron? My brain seems to work faster when I'm eating a lot of protein... am I getting enough of that?

Do I love this food?

I love most food, but I LOVE LOVE LOVE soup, vinegar, hot sauce, cheese (I KNOW!), fennel, dark chocolate, citrus, basil, brussels sprouts, and mushrooms, to name of few of my favorite things. Obviously, a recipe that includes any or ideally several of any of these favorite things is going to be of very high value for me.

Calorie content!

I have a Fitbit (see? new tools are great to add to the overall arsenal!), and use the Fitbit Food Log tools fairly religiously. Within the desktop dashboard interface, I use the “create a meal” feature to input the ingredients of any new-to-me recipe that I’m considering adding to my meal prep routine and use that nutritional info to determine how many meals it breaks down to in a calorically responsible way, and whether that’s workable for my needs. If it’s something I want to make but it’s too much or too little food, I’ll look into freezing some portions for a later date, or scaling it.

Am I going to get bored?

I’ve figured out that 4 times in a single week, a lunch or full dinner (in 10 out of 12s, or show mode) won’t bore me, but 6 times in a single week, it will. I can eat the same breakfast or light dinner (in rehearsal mode) for a week, but then I can’t repeat it for at least a couple of weeks without ruining the experience for myself. I also avoid repeating main ingredients in any given week. This is the version of variety that is, for me, indefinitely sustainable in a manageable way.

Is there a fridge? Is there a microwave?

Some studios have neither. Some studios have one but not both of the above. Sometimes the line for the microwave is going to be half an hour long; sometimes I discover I'll have it all to myself. Some theaters only have a mini fridge for props. These are two big variables to have to factor into my planning. If needed, I can prep all meals that are stable for a while unrefrigerated (or with an icepack in my lunch bag) and are damn tasty at room temperature.

How complicated is the recipe?

In rehearsal mode, I can make soups, calzones, casseroles, braises, fresh bread, etc and still have time left in the day for the other necessary chores plus cuddle time with my dog who has patiently pined for my company all week, as I have for his. In 10 out of 12 mode, I am probably bringing work home on the day off, or sometimes going two weeks without a day off, so I’ll be leaning on previously-frozen food and quickly prepped things like kitchen-sink salads, grain bowls, and sandwiches. In show mode, I can make things like fresh pasta, macarons, and seafood because I have the time for a multi-step process that doesn't allow multitasking, plus I’ll be eating some of my full lunches or dinners at home on real dishes - luxury!

Speaking of seafood... does my food stink?

There is a human decency factor! A person can’t just go heating up seafood, broccoli, or cabbage in a shared space! I’m not a monster!

What do I have lying around?

Bulk buying is cheap buying. For example, it’s obviously more cost effective to buy the bunch of parsley for $1.99 instead of the single serving container of it for $1.50... that’s good home economics. But to make it actually worth my while instead of wasteful, I keep track of the stuff that’s sitting in the fridge and plan to use it up before it spoils. I can keep herbs alive for 2 or 3 weeks (depending on how fresh they were when I bought them). Cheese can sit for a couple of weeks when wrapped properly. Lactaid milk is actually good for a month after opening (joke’s on you, regular milk drinkers!). And so on. Plus, I generally scale pasta recipes so that I’m eating at most 2-3oz of dry pasta per meal, which means I’m often checking my cupboard and saying to myself “hey, use up that macaroni before you go buying penne.” A lot of my recipe modifications involve using what I have on hand, instead of buying something else.

What time of year is it?

I have long-ago stopped being surprised when my “on this day” memories on Facebook tell me that on this date sometime in my posting history, I made the exact dish that I also made two days ago. My cravings cycle seasonally, and if I’m going to enjoy my food, it of course has to feed those cravings. Winters are for chili, soup, and braised things. Summers are for vegetable risotto and things on the grill. You get it.

Finally, a note on where I’m looking for recipes:

I look everywhere. Occasionally, I make something up but more often I'm modifying someone else's recipe in a way that works better for me for any number of reasons. I’m a member of a couple of recipe exchange groups with friends on Facebook. I poke my friends who post great photos of great food on Instagram and ask them for the recipe. I subscribe to Food & Wine as an actual physical magazine that comes in the mail. I subscribe to the RSS feeds for Food52.com, SeriousEats.com, SmittenKitchen.com (she is amazing!), and the New York Times Health and Food sections; sometimes the RSS articles expire after 30 days before I get to them, but they’re there for me when I have time for them. I have the Epicurious, Food Network, and All Recipes apps on my phone, plus Food52’s (Not)Recipe app, which I regularly look to for inspiration. I talk to people in my real life!! Plus, I have a library of actual physical cookbooks! I used to travel with most of them when I was on tour (my roadbox was heavy); halfway through my time on the road, I got my first Kindle, scanned all of my favorite recipes, shipped my cookbooks home, and loaded up that first generation Kindle with over one thousand PDFs. Now, I have all of those PDFs plus about a thousand more in Dropbox folder organized by chef/source, so that it’s searchable and accessible from whatever device I prefer in the moment.