High Carb Lifestyle

Here at High Carb Lifestyle headquarters (HCLHQ, obvs), we’re not that into “balance” or “moderation.” Who has time for that? But even we have our moments. And it’s not a bad thing to have a stable of actually tasty as well as better-for-you-than-24/7-croissants (which is what I’d really like to do) recipes.

In that spirit, the test kitchen team (me) at HCLHQ tried these tonight: https://amyshealthybaking.com/blog/2015/06/16/simple-quinoa-crackers/

Surprisingly, they’re pretty good! I used olive oil instead of coconut oil, which no doubt changes the texture a bit, and added garlic and rosemary. Couldn’t resist a small sprinkle of parm on top either because … parm. Once they cool and crisp up, they’re well worth eating and don’t leave you feeling like you’re missing out on anything. Then again, I’ve always liked odd crackers, so YMMV.

Two recipe notes:
1. She’s not kidding when she says the outside crackers burn before the inside ones cook. Even with a convection oven you’re going to want to reposition them.

2. While the end result is tasty, quinoa flour while cooking smells … um … distinctly biological. A particular kind of biological. You might want to distract yourself with other things — set off some firecrackers in the house or practice your Norwegian death metal while wearing a lavender-scented nose bag or something — while these are baking. Don’t say you weren’t warned. And maybe … don’t serve them with ranch.

So there’s that.

Recently, I went to a coffeehouse and ordered a bagel with cream cheese and a small coffee. I knew they sold bagels, because there was a bin of them right by the register, as well as visible cream cheese behind the counter. Nonetheless, this was apparently an unprecedented and hugely unsettling event for the unfortunate worker who received this request. Fulfilling my order was a major, multi-part undertaking, requiring three separate financial transactions, and fifteen minutes before all the parts of this complex procedure had been completed and I was able to snag the coveted corner table. As I sat and ate the offending bagel (and it was surprisingly good! I know it didn’t have new york baker sweat in it but it was still nicely done), I thought about how annoyed I’d been by this whole thing. I mean, I’m not really a type-A person. And I wasn’t fuming. But it had been a bit much in my book, especially when the worker started serving other people in the middle of my transaction because “it’s going to take so long I might as well make your latte.” Really?

It occurred to me though that if the person who had been serving me had had some kind of obvious challenge they were overcoming, involving visible physical or mental barriers to adroit bagel-bagging, I would have been completely patient. I probably, if I’m honest, would have congratulated myself for my magnanimous patience. And I would have thought, when it all finally came together, “Good for her! She’s really doing well.” Or something like that.

This is not flattering in the least. What we have here, in my hypothetical self, is someone who comes off as pretty damn patronizing to one set of people and, in my actual self, entirely intolerant of another set of people, based on my uninformed and conclusory determinations about whether they’re “legitimately” (ouch) disabled. (Pause to note here that I know that’s a loaded term but it’s the one that fits the internal narrative, for better or worse).

What the hell? Who am I to judge? But also … fifteen minutes for an untoasted bagel?

It’s not really permissible right now to admit that there are dumb people. But there kinda are. Or at least dumb in some things and at some times. Like when it’s time to retrieve a bagel, slice it, and put it in a small bag with a mini tub of cream cheese. Truly, this should not be too much for most working people. But for this one, it was. What does justice demand here? What does kindness? Why is it ok to be intolerant of incompetence when it stems from functional IQ near but not below an artificial line on a admittedly bogus test’s results?

This is where I wish that I was enlightened. That I could wait, solid stance and open heart, and simply be, instead of mentally screaming “just pick up the damn cheese bucket thing and hand it to me!!!”. Alas, I have not done the work and have not achieved anything like enlightenment. It’s so much easier to sit in the corner and gripe.

I don’t have an answer for this one. Get better at waiting is one obvious idea but that could take a while. Get kinder, really, is the thing. Because people don’t get better at their jobs or care more or move faster just because I want them to. In the meantime, I guess I’ll just try it this way:

https://www.kingarthurflour.com/recipes/bagels-recipe

There is enough virtue in the air right now to strangle anyone, and I need a little breathing room. Hence this space. Come on in. I’ve made donuts ….

Well actually I haven’t but wouldn’t that be grand? I hear that nothing much beats fresh-fried homemade cinnamon-sugar cake donuts. I have this on good authority. I don’t have the right friends or family to have ever experienced that particular delight myself but I can dream.

Here in America we’ve managed to get really afraid of food. We either limit it (paleo, my ass) or fetishize it in weird ways. We get all proud of ourselves for what we don’t eat. I know that food has been central to national or tribal (broadly speaking) identity since the proverbial Dawn Of Time℠. It seems like a bad idea to base your identity on what you don’t eat though. I mean, Leviticus did some of that of course but they also invented latkes. And prohibition in the absence of religion or belief seems just … empty.

I am carb-shamed at work. We can all go to a work lunch (ugh) but if you actually eat the food, particularly if that food is bread-based in any way, or has sugar, or you know … tastes good … then it’s a sure sign that you’re low class trash. This is not just women, mind you. It’s the whole gang. I don’t know how they manage to squeeze anything else into their schedules when they’re so busy judging my taste for pineapple fried rice.

The ostensible food lovers aren’t much better. I know someone who drives 4 hours in LA traffic to make a holy pilgrimage for just the right Korean BBQ. When he gets there, I’m not sure he enjoys it that much though. There’s all that instagramming to be done, and feeling superior to people who eat Korean BBQ located within their own area code. Maybe just like what you like and don’t get so exercised about it? She says, getting exercised about it …

I set this blog up (by proxy, thank you proxy!) to have a safe place (lawd: conservative trigger warning) for whatever. It won’t all be food, but I do legitimately love carbs and they figure prominently in my waking brain so there will be a lot of them. If i manage to stop thinking about pastry for a while, there will be other stuff. Probably. My life is pretty censored. So is yours, in all likelihood. It’s not here. Sit down. Have a donut. There’s plenty.