Ever since Katie tagged me the other day, I've been thinking a lot about which seven facts I wanted to share about myself. What would mean the most? What are the most essential things about me? Wait -- who am I?
Who I am is a big question, and it's not something I take lightly. The facts I've chosen to share are very important aspects of my life, and they're geared mostly towards the things I love, the people that make me happy, and the relationships that I feel define my person at this point in my life.
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1. I am technically the second oldest sibling out of five. I say technically because I have a twin sister who is older than me by two minutes. Did I mention that we're identical? And yes, I know, we don't look identical. But it really has more to do with this:
than it has to do with our appearance. Keep in mind, also, the wonderful technologies that provide my sister with a. her fake bake, b. her blonde hair, and c. her fashion sense.
I love my siblings and my family so much. They mean the world to me. Even after an eight hour shift, I would much rather scratch my little sister's back before she goes to bed than selfishly pass out asleep. It's those moments that I won't get back, or that won't even be plausible in years to come. My siblings bring me so much happiness, and I hope they know how much I love them. Yes, even you, Megan, in all your tanned and blonde-haired glory.
2. I have a wonderful boyfriend. His name is Jay, though I often refer to him as Bubbaloo. He has supported me, loved me, and cared for me throughout one of the most difficult times of my life.
He helps me grow stronger and become a better person every. single. day. When you open yourself up to someone and expose your vulnerabilities, or accept all faults regardless of what they may bring, you learn to love. I would've never made it through the months following inpatient without his support, without his warm, ever-present shoulder to lean on. He has given up too much for me, but he wouldn't have it any other way. And I hope he knows that my shoulder is always here, nevermind my impatience or often flighty responses. It is always here, I am always here. And no, I wouldn't have it any other way.
3. I am in recovery from an eating disorder. The diagnosis has changed and warped throughout the past 10 years, but what matters now is that I am recovering. It's taken me a long time to get where I am today. At the very least, my treatment has included three bouts of day treatment, three inpatient stays, and countless hours of therapy/outpatient programs.
I don't believe that I could've genuinely accepted recovery any sooner than I did. I believe that I had to get to a place of wanting for myself, and not for anyone else, better health, productivity, and happiness. I learned long ago that my eating disorder would only result in shame, pain, and frustration. But that knowledge wasn't cemented in my brain, or it simply didn't matter enough to me until last November, after I was hospitalized for low potassium. I had to seriously mature and grow to discover that this wasn't what I wanted:
Gross? Awful? Embarrassing? I remember being so terrified, and so out of my mind numb from all the abuse I'd put my body through. I honestly never could have imagined getting to where I am today, but I'm so happy that I have, and that my eating disorder isn't my life anymore.
4. My mother also suffers from an eating disorder. I watched her, from a young age, vomit into trash cans. I was also there when she had to get an iv for low potassium, several years before I'd even developed an eating disorder. She also suffers from borderline personality disorder and alcoholism, and these aspects of her, in addition to her eating disorder, have greatly severed our relationship. Up until last month, we hadn't been in contact for eight months. This was my choice, because in order to choose recovery and potentially succeed in my efforts, I knew I would have to break off our toxic relationship and relearn what is real, true, and right in terms of family. I love my mother dearly, and I hope that one day we can reach a point where there is less tension between us. But I now know that my sanity and my safety come first, and that I have to choose me -not her- from now on.
5. I love music, so much. When I was really into my eating disorder, I pretty much forgot about music, forgot about how wonderful it could be. With the help of Jay, and some itunes gift cards, however, I have rediscovered music and have also discovered some great bands. On my rotation you'll usually find The Everybodyfields, The Avett Brothers, The Tallest Man on Earth, Bon Iver, Brand New, and a slew of other artists. I also have a thing for Katy Perry. I don't know why, but "Firework" makes me cry. Every time I hear it.
I played piano for about four years. And I was actually really good. Again, my eating disorder took away all of my concentration/life, etc., and I haven't played for a long time now. The piano feels awkward beneath my fingers, and that in itself makes it unbearable for me try to play. To go from a Sonata to The Little Farmer? I just can't. Not right now, anyway.
6. I've been blogging for about five years, and I've been writing for about nine. I started off really geeky, writing Harry Potter fanfiction when I was eleven. I really enjoyed it, though, and it gave me an outlet to express myself. I soon moved on to myspace, and then livejournal, and then tumblr, and then blogger...you get the picture.
For some reason, it's always been very important for me to have an audience. I feel like I have more purpose when I know that someone is, or that someone could/might be reading. It's hard for me to write for myself, and I'm not sure why that is, because I get a lot of satisfaction out of writing and finishing a piece. My writing is something I definitely want to continue working on and improving. I am an English major, after all.
7. I really enjoy art and photography. I took a lot of art classes in high school and also some in college. I wanted to minor in art, but unfortunately the college that I transferred to doesn't have an art program! I was so disappointed when I found out. Even so, I hope it's something I can start working on outside of school. It does take a lot to motivate me sometimes, but when I get started on something, I really do enjoy it. Now if only I could find the proper space...
Film, 2009.
Charcoal, 2008.
And now that you know so much about me, I'll also let you know that I'm super nervous about starting school tomorrow! I have work right after my classes end, so I'll be going from 7 a.m. to 10 p.m. Nervous. Scared. Not really excited. Not yet, at least.
Summer, despite being boring, was so incredibly relaxing and I'm very thankful that I had that time to myself. I know that with school and work will come stress and more stress, and I'm afraid that I'll revert to unhealthy coping mechanisms. I know that I've been doing really good lately, and that I should take it one day at a time. I just need to keep reminding myself that I am in a much better place than I was this time last year, and that things will be different. A new school, a new job. Support in terms of Bubbaloo and my therapist. I have so much more than I had last year, so much more to look forward to. My life is in my hands now, and I need to keep it there.
This post is not about money, or jealousy. Today's highlights just happened to include green.
For lunch, I made a salad comprised of almost of entirely green vegetables; iceberg lettuce, cucumber, green bell pepper, and asparagus. I threw some cherry tomatoes in for good measure, and then threw them out upon tasting -- they were awful! They did not taste juicy and sweet like they should. They were bland and had a strange flavor that reminded me of chemicals, or manure. Or both. Their detriment was easily remedied, however, by the addition of some shredded Colby and Monetery-Jack Cheese, topped with homemade balsamic vinaigrette!
Major yum! Especially when paired with two anytime cookies, drizzled in peanut butter...
For the remainder of the afternoon, I organized my room and urged the kids to do their summer reading, and also to play outside. Both efforts lasted about 15 minutes. I read, however, and also fussed with the appearance of my blog for countless hours.
It's just never going to be perfect, is it?
Around 4:30, just as I was supposed to be preparing dinner, I dove into the project of updating my Dad's picture bulletin for his office. I scoured our house for up-to-date pictures, but instead discovered countless documented memories. So many smiling faces. Such adorableness. Remembering my siblings as they were is both wonderful and distressing. How did they grow up so fast? How did I miss that moment, that face, that butt?! Why didn't I squeeze it a few more times before he/she grew too old?
I saw a picture of myself in a bathing suit, at a time when I wasn't plagued by my eating disorder. I still looked shy, self-conscious. And as I peered at my 13 year old self, all I could think was how fat. My grandfather is smiling, gathered with me and other family members in the ocean only a few years before his death, and all I can focus on is my stomach. My arms. Oh my god, my cheeks. I cannot remember a time when I had cheeks.
I see myself then, and I know myself now. Which would I truly prefer? Were my years of turmoil really worth the less than 10 pound difference? Do I really look that different? Am I still that fat? Of course, I have over the years learned to dress myself better, and I've learned how to apply make up. But underneath those layers remain my face, my body, and very vividly, my thoughts about each aspect of my outward appearance. Was I really happy then? I can't remember. Those memories have been stripped by the negative thoughts and their all-consuming consequences. And I can't remember, I can't remember... Where was my mind during those hazy years? I can't get it back, that time. That time in my life was crucial, and it shaped me into who I am today. And I don't know if I'd want it back. I really don't. For better or for worse.
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Tangents and questions. Questions and tangents. Suffice it to say that I'm still working on the bulletin, and that I still really need to find some up-to-date pictures. I'm thinking of doing a mix between then and now, as I couldn't just set aside the pictures that made me smile so much, that will no doubt provoke warm and fuzzy recollections for my Dad as well.
I served dinner for me and the kids around 5:00, and by 8:00 I was craving something sweet. Something hot. Jay drove us to Burlap and Bean, my favorite local coffee shop, but they were unfortunately closed. So I had to settle on Starbucks -- not a problem! Except for the steep price that the switch from whole to soy milk provided. I ordered a soy caramel macchiato, and was delighted by both the taste and the fact that my nails matched my cup! I got my nails and eyebrows (strictly necessity) done yesterday, and chose Essie's Pretty Edgy. It was different. It was green. And it matched my coffee cup perfectly.
I was a pretty happy gem.
Over the weekend, Jay and I dined at Mad Mex, an Americanized Mexican joint that caters specifically to the college crowd. I could tell from the moment we walked in just how much influence UPenn had on this singular restaurant; a table of jocks, so to speak, sat outside wearing obnoxious purple jerseys; inside, a member of the Wharton business club blasted awful rap music from a boombox on her shoulder, as she alternated between giving passerby sour looks and taking massive gulps from her beer. Classy, classy.
And I know I'm considered to be part of their generation. I'm in my early twenties, and I'm in college...but I think the similarities end there. I was truly, truly embarrassed for the crowds of obnoxious students we passed. And embarrassed by them. I know it's a college-friendly restaurant, but really? Really? I'm just saying, it would be nice to enjoy some food without a frat party sitting two tables away.
Onto the service. I don't know if she was high. I don't know if she was drunk. All I know is that she was the slowest, and the WORST waitress I've ever had the misfortune of knowing. Jay and I seriously considered leaving without paying; it took her that long to address us. And to her further discredit, she only addressed us because her manager just so happened to notice that we were done and finished with our meals. He unfortunately also noticed that the balance book was filled with cash. My cash. And he promptly took it from the table.
I ordered their Namesake Burrito with chicken. It contained rice, beans, and chicken. In a soggy flour tortilla. And that's it. The burrito was really bland, boring, and I wouldn't order it ever again. I don't think it was me, really. I'm not much of a burrito person to begin with, but I was excited when the menus said that Lady Gaga traded in her meat dress for a string bikini made out of this burrito. If Lady Gaga wore it, it must taste good, right? Right?
Jay got the Pork Carnitas Burrito, which was served with blue cornbread. Except, the cornbread wasn't really blue. It was gray. Jay said his burrito was pretty good, so I'm glad that at least he got a good meal out of it. Maybe next time I should just get enchiladas, or something with vegetables. I don't know. My dad always says that Mexican food is the same basic ingredients just tossed together differently, and it's kind of true. I don't know if Mad Mex steps it up with their other entrees, but I'm not sure if I'm willing to find out when I can make a decent burrito bowl myself.
My bubbaloo had the best intentions. And I had the best time with him. Maybe I should give Mad Mex another shot? Maybe I shouldn't diss my boo's favorite restaurant? And maybe, but also probably, I should accept the experience for what it was, I should move on, and remember that sometimes, most of the times, going out with the ones you love should be about being with them. Going out to eat should be about having a good time with your company, not with your food. Food should be there only to heighten the experience, not to fulfill it, not to be the focus of it. Because with great company, great taste comes second; with the one you love most, great food isn't even necessary. It's just an added plus.
I am officially unofficially employed. For the remainder of the summer and throughout the fall/winter, I'll be babysitting my three younger siblings. This isn't as much babysitting as it is just hanging out with them and making sure they clean their rooms. I'm not complaining. Even getting six hours of sleep last night wasn't too bad...just kidding.
I was excited this morning because I woke up hungry! A good sign. My appetite has already returned in full force. I started the day with some warm water, combined with a few squeezes of fresh lemon juice. I hear this is good for digestion, and that it works as a sort of body cleanse. The drink reminded me of tea, though it was quite sour. I enjoyed it, though my teeth felt gritty afterwards.
For breakfast, I decided to employ my last English Muffin by making Ashley's Crispy French Muffin Toast! As usual, I had to make some adjustments.
Ingredients:
1 whole English Muffin (cut into halves)
1 tbs. ground flax meal + 3 tbs. warm water
2 tbs. unsweetened almond milk
1 tsp. cinnamon
1 tsp. vanilla
1 egg white (instead of banana)
1/2 tbs. butter, for pan (instead of coconut oil)\
Instructions:
1. First, whisk together flax and water. Set aside.
2. Crack an egg and separate, pouring the egg white into a small bowl.
3. Add cinnamon, vanilla, and almond milk to the egg white, and stir.
4. Add the egg white mixture to the flax mixture, and combine thoroughly.
(You may need some help from a professional :)
5. Heat a skillet, and add half the amount of butter.
6. Generously coat each English Muffin half (both sides) in the batter.
7. Place the first coated muffin half in the skillet, and cook until golden brown on each side. Plate when ready.
8. Add the rest of the butter to the skillet, and repeat step 7.
9. Coat with toppings of choice! I chose almond butter and maple syrup!
Enjoy!
Last night, I had a slip. The first in thirty-one days. I was in a different environment, uncomfortable, and I had an entirely processed pantry in front of me. Not an excuse, just a shot at understanding.
Just two days ago, I entertained the thought that I would never return to my symptoms, that I felt so comfortable being symptom-free, so proud, so healthy, that symptom-use wasn't even an option. It simply wouldn't happen. It's almost as if these thoughts occur only to be proven wrong. Feeling as if I'm on such safe, sturdy ground, to have that same flooring crumble and collapse beneath me. I will move on, today was better, but even after several fully digested meals, I still felt weak throughout my entire body, unable to complete physical tasks because of the sheer effort they required. Even after a month of no symptom-use, I would stand up and black out for several moments, unsettling me and reminding me of the havoc I've wreaked on my body. It's things like these I didn't seem to notice before, when 80% of my days were spent in bed, and the other 20% was spent in a numbing war.
I notice so much more now. The pale, beautiful ringlets in my sister's hair, orange-red sunsets with traces of violet. I have so much more now. Concentration, self-confidence, and even extreme happiness, at times. I wouldn't trade these things for the world, much less a sick feeling of comfort that ultimately resolves in feelings of guilt, shame, and anger. I know I am moving forward. I know this isn't the end of the road. It's just a speed bump. I am better today, and I have only stepped backwards once.
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Is there anything better than celebrating a day free from your eating disorder and your one-year-one-month anniversary all in the same day? How about with an amazing man? How about with delicious food? (That you don't have to cook yourself, obviously).
After sitting, reading, computing, and walking around in blankets all day, Jay and I defied the rain by driving into town and grabbing dinner at Iron Hill. Usually after a slip, I play it extremely safe, and often end up underfed. Today, though, I was feeling the need for something delicious and sinfully rich. I remembered the Cheesesteak Egg Rolls.
Forgive me, but this is not a vegan post.
I had them on my mind when we settled on Iron Hill, and they were delivered at just the right time, as in right before the gnawing off your arm stage.
Served with ketchup and horseradish sauce, they are the definition of ooey-gooey goodness. Wrapped with melty cheese and a crispy exterior, the thin slices of steak are well worth a breach of my mostly-vegetarian diet. I would only hope that the next time, the horseradish would be spicier!
Next came the entrees.
To counteract the greasy goodness, and because it's absolutely delicious anyway, I ordered the Mesclun Greens salad. Comprised of greens, Granny Smith slices, dried cranberries, pistachios and White Vermont Cheddar, and topped with an orange-vanilla vinaigrette, this salad is an item I frequently order at Iron Hill.
Jay couldn't walk away without a burger, as usual. He ordered the Brewski Burger, just as he did several entries ago. Except this time, it didn't look as pretty. I forgot to take pictures until we'd both already dug in! And they also changed their lovely deep green side salad to a mess of romaine and hastily diced tomato. What can you do?
The meal was quite enjoyable, and I loved even more spending the day with my favorite, Bubbaloo. Every day can't be perfect, but those rare moments seem to get pretty close.
Welcome to my first What I Ate Wednesday!
Today, I finished the last of my homemade almond butter. I literally scraped the sides of the container with a knife, spoon, and then a spatula. It is a sad day.
Breakfast was delicious, even so. There was just enough almond butter left to cover my Food for Life English Muffin. I used to be a hardcore loyalist of the Thomas Original Nooks & Crannies, but since trying this sprouted brand, there's no turning back. Nineteen grains and seeds, no added sugar, no flour, and a moist, nutty taste? I was sold at the first bite.
After breakfast, I meandered a bit, read blogs, made the kids lunch, and found the perfect recipe for my lunch. I wanted to use spinach, and eggs, and a scramble seemed just too obvious. So I searched "spinach" on Smitten Kitchen. The results included one of my favorite foods, quiche! I don't like the dry, microwaved kind that you'll oftentimes get at some coffee shops, though to be honest, I've never had homemade quiche; it was the perfect opportunity. We had frozen spinach, eggs, cheese, and a few random frozen puff pastries. Destiny beckoned me to follow the light.
You see, it's very rare that I find all the ingredients for a new recipe in our kitchen. By "our," I mean my family, which includes my Dad, Kelly (stepmom), and my siblings, Megan, Ryan, Madison, and Kara. There's quite a few of us. My parents are very busy with jobs and three young kids, ages 11, 9, and 5. This leaves little to no time for them to cook, and its rare that we have a sit down dinner anymore.
Cooking, in my family, usually means microwaved Easy-Mac, chicken nuggets, and sometimes microwaved peas for the three young ones, and some sort of sandwich for my parents. My twin sister Megan and I usually fend for ourselves. I don't mind this set up, as it gives me the freedom to choose what I want for dinner and include important food groups such as vegetables, but I would love to teach to my younger siblings the importance and downright deliciousness of unadulterated, whole foods.
Mashed potatoes shouldn't come as "dehydrated potato flakes" in a box, nor should calorie-free "butter spray" be used to replace the real thing. Sure, real butter contains fat and salt, but when used in moderation, it helps your body absorb certain nutrients and it tastes much better than that plastic stuff. I'm not telling you to dip your fingers into the jar of butter like I did when I was three. I'm just saying that in moderation, it can be good for you.
I would love to cook nutritious meals for my family. Fruit and vegetables would be plentiful, and instead of Easy-Mac, we'd be eating whole grains, lean means and beans (or tofu if my entire family didn't think it was disgusting). And I swear, it would taste good. I enjoy yummy, nutrient-dense food, and throughout the past six months, I have learned the value of cooking for yourself and others. (Thank you, bubbaloo, for allowing me to make you blueberry pancakes three weeks in a row). There is no replacement for handed-down recipes or the time it takes to cook a nutritious meal. There is so much more value in putting forth effort in how you cook and what you eat, than any boxed item can replicate.
My cousin Allison brought some friends to my Grandmother's house for dinner recently, and they couldn't believe that she made real mashed potatoes and homemade strawberry pie. It shouldn't be like this. We shouldn't constantly choose convenience over health. It isn't fair to future generations, and more importantly, it isn't fair to ourselves.
I am now stepping down from my soap box.
Back to the quiche. I followed a Martha Steward recipe, as listed on Smitten Kitchen. It didn't take long to make, and the results were divine. I'll have a recipe and more pictures up tomorrow. As I waited for the quiche to bake, I chopped up a carrot and mixed equal parts hummus and balsamic vinaigrette. I think that if I continue to eat carrots like I have been, I'm going to turn into one.
Delicious!
After lunch, I went for a walk to take a much needed break from the computer, and to clear my head. I find walks very relaxing and wholesome. I always feel like I'm doing something good for my mind, body, soul when I walk.
While I walked, I listened to The Avett Brothers, and they reminded me why I love music so much. I'd write more on that, but this post is getting long-winded already.
By the time I got home, it was around 4:15, and I made a quick run to Trader Joe's to pick up some ingredients for tonight's dinner; burrito bowls!
Of course, I couldn't just settle on guacamole...
Twenty-two dollars later, I rushed home to start prepping dinner, but I was ravenous. So I opened the guac, and paired it with some multigrain chips for a quick snack.
For dinner, I started with boiling the rice, and finished with the help of my wonderful Bubbaloo.
Lettuce, rice, and beans, topped with cheese, sauteed veggies, and Trader Joe's Spicy Pico de Gallo Guacamole, which was totally worth the splurge! (I realized, when I got to Trader Joe's, that the avocado I bought wouldn't be ripe in time for dinner :p)
The bowls were delicious, and surprisingly filling! Of course, Jay and my Dad both could've eaten another helping or two; I, on the other hand, struggled with feeling full for the next hour. Jay reminded me that it wasn't the end of the world, that eventually I would feel fine, and eventually...well, I did. During that hour though, I think my biggest fear was that I'd be full forever, that I'd let the discomfort and the urge to purge get the best of me, that I'd start the awful cycle again. Thirty days, yes, but with a lifetime to go. I wouldn't have made it this far without the support of friends, family, and my biggest support, Bubbaloo.
After making him sit through the latest episode of The Big C, at around 10p.m., he went home. Megan decided it was a good idea to watch most recent True Blood, and through the middle of the show, I was hungry again!
I chose a plain Chobani with a drizzle of honey and some dried cherries.
My first What I Ate Wednesday was quite a bit of work! I took over one-hundred pictures, and had to change my camera batteries! The results were worth it, though; a picturesque, thought-filled day in my life through food!
Today, I am 27 days symptom free from my eating disorder. This is a new record for me, and it falls just below the two symptom free months I enjoyed straight out of my third hospitalization. Since February, I allowed myself to be slightly drawn back into bulimia's clutches. I've been slowly regaining my footing. Three days, nine days, fourteen days...and now twenty-seven. My success is in no small part due to the unwavering support of my boyfriend, Jay. He has been there for me through the worst, from the fifty minute bathroom breaks to the potassium drip. He has endured my relentless self-deprecation, the constant chatter of my eating disorder that surfaces whenever I pass a mirror. He has held me through the fullness and the frustration, he has stayed with me despite the selfish wall my eating disorder has built around me. He has loved me so fully, without hesitation, and because of this, I am learning to love my self.
If you're reading this, I love you, bubbaloo.
Jay has taught me more than unconditional love; he's also helped me grow stronger, and he's allowed me to view food as something enjoyable. Several weeks ago, we went to Wildwood, where his parents own a beach house. We went to a restaurant called Beach Creek, and both ordered my favorite item on their menu -- the house salad.
Comprised of "tender mixed greens, goat cheese & cracked walnuts with a strawberry vinaigrette," it had both of our mouths watering for weeks to come, whenever the salad was mentioned. Today, we tried to recreate the salad for a picnic at the park, which we were unfortunately rained out of. However, it was cooler, and still very enjoyable to eat inside.
Though the salad from the restaurant definitely topped the one we made, our salad was very enjoyable, and I would definitely make it again. My pictures are rushed and don't do the salad justice, as we were ravenous after a run at the park.
Summertime Strawberry Salad Recipe.
It really is a delicious summer salad, and it's very easy to make. Jay and I both finished our bowls and sighed in contentment/fullness. It was a lovely, yummy day.
Last Friday, my lovely boyfriend and I went to Iron Hill Brewery. Iron Hill is regarded for it's beer, which is brewed on-sight, with the brewery visible to customers. The History section of their website states that Iron Hill formed "when two award-winning homebrewers, Kevin Finn and Mark Edelson teamed up with Kevin Davies, an experienced professional in restaurant operations." The result is definitely a success. There are now several Iron Hill Breweries throughout Delaware and Pennsylvania, and I'm lucky to live close to the one in Media, PA.
As I am still underage, I've yet to experience their beers. However, I have experienced their food enough to report in what is hopefully an appropriate manner. Bar food typically gets a bad rep, and for good reason. Grease is not very nutritious, and you usually can't order much beyond a burger and fries. Iron Hill, on the other hand, serves above par bar food. They update their menu on a regular basis, and everything I've ordered there, save for a vegetarian entree that has since been removed from the menu, has been excellent. I've dined at Iron Hill many times, and return because I've almost always had decent service, and an above-average meal.
My boyfriend Jay's first beer, an Irish Dry Stout.
Although I just stated that Iron Hill is better than a burger and fries, they do serve them. And for the first time ever, I ordered both, together. This is a big step, not only for my recovery, but also in broadening my horizons. Having been vegetarian for two plus years, meat has often been questionable to me. Sometimes it makes me feel incredibly full, to the extent that the aftereffects negate any enjoyment experienced during the meal. Even so, since reuniting with chicken and fish, I have realized the importance of protein in my life. And since then, I have also experienced hunger pangs that scream, MEAT PROTEIN! Although this is rare, it does occur. I am not a meat fanatic by any means, but when the craving strikes, I will satisfy it. And lately, that craving has been geared towards burgers. Not any burger, mind you, but an upscale, bacon cheeseburger. And I know you're wondering, "Does this girl really have an eating disorder?" But there is no reason, when you're feeling good, to limit yourself. Recovery has taught me to enjoy food, and I do, immensely. Although I still (even very recently) find eating and everything that comes with it to be challenging, I am at the point in my recovery where I am willing to take on these challenges. I am ready to meet my needs, and yes, indulge. So I did just that.
We sat in the bar area next to the window. I loved the view. However, the sound system was right over my head, and it was happy hour, so the music was pounding. Yelling isn't my ideal form of communication, but Jay and I dealt with it. Our waitress took our orders shortly, and I ordered what is probably any anorexic's worst nightmare; their Smoke House burger with their hand-cut sweet potato fries. I've tried their sweet potato fries before, and they are wonderful. Not too greasy, with just the right amount of crisp. As an appetizer, they're served with three dipping sauces; bourbon-vanilla cream, smoked paprika aioli, and habanero-lime. The combination of the sweet potato fries with the bourbon-vanilla cream sauce is absolutely delicious, so I asked for it on the side.
While we waited, I took note of the menu, which describes the brewing process step-by-step, with complimentary images. Jay explained to me the Mug Club, which exists for beer enthusiasts. You get a special mug and a card to go with it, which rewards you with points back for every beer you buy. More info here.
It wasn't long before our orders arrived.
The Smoke House 8 oz. Angus Beef Burger. It comes with smoked gouda, barbecued onions, and bacon. Also on the plate: sweet potato fries, vanilla-bourbon dipping sauce, coleslaw, and a pickle. Upon first glance, I was completely overwhelmed. Not only did my plate look like a heart-attack, but Jay's looked much prettier.
He ordered the Brewski Burger, which comes with lettuce, tomato, mushrooms, bacon, and your choice of cheese. He opted for salad on the side, and it added such vibrancy and color to the plate. For a moment, I felt insecure for picking the less "healthy" option, fries instead of salad, but I quickly cut my burger in half and made a mental note telling ED to shove off.
My Smoke House meal was pretty good. The burger itself was too big for my liking, but I guess that's what happens when you order an 8 oz burger, which equates to two plus servings of protein. I enjoyed the gouda, and I have quite the hankering for any type of cooked onions. The bacon, however, was thin and limp. I would have preferred it to be crispy and thick. If I'm going to eat bacon, which I rarely do, I want it to be bangin'. I decided to eat half of my burger, and save the rest of my appetite for the fries. And I must admit, they were probably my favorite part of the meal. You will never know until you experience it. The wholesome flavor of the sweet potato combined with the subtle richness of the vanilla-bourbon is a real treat. My boo polished off his burger with ease, and nixed the salad. Apparently, it was too bitter.
After we finished, Jay ordered another beer. This time it was an IPA (India Pale Ale). I was quite full at this point, but Jay kept me company and I got through it. Once he finished his beer, I got the rest of my burger and fries to go, and we headed home. Overall, it was a pleasant experience. I think my burger craving is satisfied for now, but I am glad I tried it. I'd never ordered a burger at restaurant before, let alone with fries. Still, I think it was something I needed to experience. After all, burgers are one of America's most beloved sandwiches. I had to find out why.
Recommendations: Mesculn salad, Salmon Spring Rolls, Cheesesteak Egg Rolls, Hand Cut Sweet Potato Fries, Moroccan Spiced Salmon, Mediterranean Wrap, and yes, any burger of your choice, if you're in the mood.
Skip: Onion and Ale au Gratin. It's not that bad, but there is so much cheese, I swear I nearly choked on it once.
Overall, a good meal. If you're ever near an Iron Hill, you should give it a try. For more information, click here.
My goal with this blog is to introduce greater comfort into my life, specifically regarding food. Food has been a struggle for me since age eleven. I am a recovering bulimic. I'd like to keep my mind geared towards recovery through the celebration of what keeps me going; nourishment. Whether it be an apple with peanut butter, a salad, or a greasy slice of pizza, food is to be celebrated and enjoyed. It should not be used as a form of self-punishment. Nor should it be used to disengage from feeling. I have learned, and am still learning how to accept this, how to accept taking care of myself. Though currently struggling, I hope this can become what I need to express and reinforce how essential it is that I treat myself with kindness, and accept food for what it is.
Header Credit goes to TowerGirl @ flickr.
