Soup
So, I've been making soup in a bid to ward off any further weight gain. No point bothering with the stuff in the canteen, our very passionate and appropriately rounded chef bungs cream, booze, salt and butter into very everything he can. There's a roast dinner on the menu every Thursday, giiiiant fish 'n' chips (with home-made mushy peas and tartar sauce) every Friday, they have mousse pots, chocolate bars, greek yoghurt with stuff in it... terrible.
There are healthy options, but it's WELL expensive in that canteen, and quite frankly, who the hell is going to fork out £3.75 for a plastic tub with a few chewy green leaves and some tasteless chicken in it when they could have roast pork, red cabbage, tatties, apple sauce and gravy for another 25p? Not me matey.
So, the canteen is totally to blame for my current physique, and therefore the reason for (a) the going faster (currently lapsed), and (b) the soup.
The soup was a brilliant idea I hit upon following laboured discussions with my sister the super-slimmer, who has gone from a size 16/18 to a toned 10 over a year. OK, so she had to have her gallstones removed thanks to over-zealous dieting, and is now utterly obsessed with calorie/fat counting and leaping about like an upstream salmon to Rosemary Connolly videos at stupid O'clock in the morning, but she's looking very hot. Bitch.
The one thing you can eat lots of, it seems, is vegetables (not potatoes of course though, oh no). And lots of lovely, fresh, organic vegetables are just super and great to put in your body. So, if you turn them into mouth-watering soup and take them to work, you can fill your tummy with wholesome goodness and there'll be no need to think about Rolos, not even once.
Thrilled at the prospect of my imminent transformation into svelte, thin-limbed earth-maiden, I rushed out to the farmers' market to scoop all of nature's bounty up into my soon-to-be skinny arms. Oh, alright, it was 24 hour Tescos at 10pm, but most of the veg was organic. Why so many chavs need to pile down to the Raynes Park turn-off to stock up on Tizer and oven chips at nearly midnight I'll never know.
Anyway, it was all going pretty well. I had my piles of raw ingredients, and had held a successful carrot & coriander and leek & potato run-through (cooked at the same time - check me out). I was planning to bubble up enough nutritious and delicious broth to last at least a week and a half.
The first mistake I made was I couldn't actually be arsed to cook. As the days went by and I shovelled more canteen grub into my fat face, the potatoes went green, the onions threatened to shrivel, the huge bundle of muddy leeks freezer-burned to the back of the fridge, and the carrots sat about, collecting condensation. Thank god for the indestructibility of crème fraîche. That stuff really is the b*llcoks.
The second mistake I made, once I'd got around to cooking, was 'tasting' the soup too much. By tasting, of course, I mean eating. By the time I'd 'checked' the carrot & coriander a few (hundred) times and had a bowl for dinner (and seconds - it was really nice), there were two rather polite portions left. Polite portions were not the point. Polite portions will not get between me and a large helping of goat's cheese wellington.
The third mistake I made was failing to bring the soup into work with me. It takes exactly 43 minutes for me to get ready, and I don't actually wake up until I'm getting off the overground at Waterloo. It's hard enough to remember keys-wallet-travelcard-diary-phone-umbrella-tissues-book-discman-make-up, shit, have I got my phone? without remembering something in the fridge as well.
The fourth mistake I made, having remembered the soup, was arriving at work and agreeing to go out for lunch. Leaving it on my desk, taking it to the pub for the evening and eating it the next day COULD have been a big mistake, but luckily I did not get food poisoning and die. Hurrah.
The fifth and final mistake was to jolly up my efforts with a hot, salty, buttered jacket potato and a Twister ice lolly. Did I mention I had a bacon sandwich for breakfast?
God I want a donut.
There are healthy options, but it's WELL expensive in that canteen, and quite frankly, who the hell is going to fork out £3.75 for a plastic tub with a few chewy green leaves and some tasteless chicken in it when they could have roast pork, red cabbage, tatties, apple sauce and gravy for another 25p? Not me matey.
So, the canteen is totally to blame for my current physique, and therefore the reason for (a) the going faster (currently lapsed), and (b) the soup.
The soup was a brilliant idea I hit upon following laboured discussions with my sister the super-slimmer, who has gone from a size 16/18 to a toned 10 over a year. OK, so she had to have her gallstones removed thanks to over-zealous dieting, and is now utterly obsessed with calorie/fat counting and leaping about like an upstream salmon to Rosemary Connolly videos at stupid O'clock in the morning, but she's looking very hot. Bitch.
The one thing you can eat lots of, it seems, is vegetables (not potatoes of course though, oh no). And lots of lovely, fresh, organic vegetables are just super and great to put in your body. So, if you turn them into mouth-watering soup and take them to work, you can fill your tummy with wholesome goodness and there'll be no need to think about Rolos, not even once.
Thrilled at the prospect of my imminent transformation into svelte, thin-limbed earth-maiden, I rushed out to the farmers' market to scoop all of nature's bounty up into my soon-to-be skinny arms. Oh, alright, it was 24 hour Tescos at 10pm, but most of the veg was organic. Why so many chavs need to pile down to the Raynes Park turn-off to stock up on Tizer and oven chips at nearly midnight I'll never know.
Anyway, it was all going pretty well. I had my piles of raw ingredients, and had held a successful carrot & coriander and leek & potato run-through (cooked at the same time - check me out). I was planning to bubble up enough nutritious and delicious broth to last at least a week and a half.
The first mistake I made was I couldn't actually be arsed to cook. As the days went by and I shovelled more canteen grub into my fat face, the potatoes went green, the onions threatened to shrivel, the huge bundle of muddy leeks freezer-burned to the back of the fridge, and the carrots sat about, collecting condensation. Thank god for the indestructibility of crème fraîche. That stuff really is the b*llcoks.
The second mistake I made, once I'd got around to cooking, was 'tasting' the soup too much. By tasting, of course, I mean eating. By the time I'd 'checked' the carrot & coriander a few (hundred) times and had a bowl for dinner (and seconds - it was really nice), there were two rather polite portions left. Polite portions were not the point. Polite portions will not get between me and a large helping of goat's cheese wellington.
The third mistake I made was failing to bring the soup into work with me. It takes exactly 43 minutes for me to get ready, and I don't actually wake up until I'm getting off the overground at Waterloo. It's hard enough to remember keys-wallet-travelcard-diary-phone-umbrella-tissues-book-discman-make-up, shit, have I got my phone? without remembering something in the fridge as well.
The fourth mistake I made, having remembered the soup, was arriving at work and agreeing to go out for lunch. Leaving it on my desk, taking it to the pub for the evening and eating it the next day COULD have been a big mistake, but luckily I did not get food poisoning and die. Hurrah.
The fifth and final mistake was to jolly up my efforts with a hot, salty, buttered jacket potato and a Twister ice lolly. Did I mention I had a bacon sandwich for breakfast?
God I want a donut.
posted by Elizabeth at 12:05 PM
4 Comments:
ROFL.
You could always get svelte by giving a riding crop to a large irritable friend and yelling "Bet you can't catch me!"
i too am on the "it's getting hotter and my stomach is somewhere round my knees" tone up. This week i have stopped eating bread in the vain hope that something, somewhere will look flatter. Went to body punishing class last night where a blonde hitler shouted in a ridiculously high vioce that i was to "SQEEEEEEEZE" my buttocks and keep my tummy tight - which is all fine and dandy if you look like arnold schwarzenegger with a ponytail, but i was just trying not to faint whilst blinking the sweat out of my eyes - NICE!! I then lost all control of my arms after a million pressups and had a bugger of a time trying to drive home. Oh well, at least some nice person has put a big bit of cake on my desk, i can feel a cup of tea coming on. Hope you have a nice day!!
Don't the heat just make you feel twice your normal size? I'm very impressed with any exercise attempts, I can't even begin to contemplate going jogging. I would just die on the floor.
the problem is that it's miserable not eating bread. i mean, how nice is bread? mmmmm...toast. mmmm...crusty roll.
i find it very hard to muster up the same enthusiam for vegetables. mmmm....celery doesn't have quite the same appeal (although your soup is delicious, elizabeth)
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