Stint of Death

Back by popular demand, I'm hear writing another blog post simply because a good friend of mine texted me last night and insisted I do so.

It has been quite a while since last I wrote on this blog, which is a sad thing when you stop and think about it. At the beginning of this whole project, I was gung-ho for writing every single day (even if I had nothing to write about) and exercising nearly every day, and constantly weighing myself. Now, some of those things have changed.

One thing has remained constant, though. And that is my diet. I am still sticking to the healthy, non-chemically altered foods and consuming things as naturally as they were meant to be consumed. Though I haven't exercised--and have entertained lots of people between the present day and the last day I posted, which means amazing food and amazing desserts--I've still lost weight. In thirteen days of not stressing about anything, I'm still down nearly a pound.

There is a detail I must confess. This whole "making my own food" thing has created a monster within me, mostly because I've found exquisite joy and satisfaction with creating my own... desserts! Lovely desserts made with heavy whipping cream, butter, and sugar. Just last week I made three curds and a custard in about 48 hours, and I made another curd yesterday. I'm obsessed.

But let me tell you about the berry abomination I made last week. I have a delicious recipe for lemon curd that requires lemon juice and zest, among other things. This, to me, as I was logically working out ingredients to substitute, meant juice, and some form of fruit flesh. I had a frozen berry medley in the freezer consisting of strawberries, raspberries, and blueberries, and so I thought if I thawed them and used them whole in the mix, it would somehow be the equivalent of juice and zest. After all, you end up pushing the whole curd through a fine sieve anyway, so any skins or seeds would be caught and discarded.

I stood there and whipped my berry curd in my makeshift double boiler for what seemed to be an eternity, and things were not improving. Have you ever dealt with blueberries before? Well, if you add whole blueberries to anything, not only do they stain your entire outfit and kitchen, but if left to sit, they make whatever they are in gradually firm up. Like custard yogurt. This property, mixed with heat and the mad mixing skills of my hand mixer, made the contents mount up to this sloppy foam of death that tasted great, but was definitely not a curd.

I strained it, added butter, and another 2 eggs and threw it back over the boiler. I'm sorry to say this really didn't help, and the additional egg yolks turned everything from soft purple to weird gray. Not the most appetizing color of a curd.

The soup still wasn't thickening up, so as a final resort, I took a deep breath, turned my head away in shame, and dumped in an entire packet of unflavored gelatin powder. And that crap did its job without a doubt; it transformed it into a berry marshmallow monster. I threw it all into a tupperware and into the fridge it went, where it is still lurking to this day.

But not to worry; since then I have had many wonderful successes, like a lemon curd, grapefruit curd, lime curd, and amazing chocolate pudding. So no worries from me.