October 14, 2013
Imagine you are a woman who has been in an unhappy marriage for many years. Early on in this marriage, you and your husband adopted a child from Africa and disagreed over how the child should be treated. (Okay, in the real version you kidnapped the kid, but I’m trying to modernize this analogy so bear with me.) Your husband didn’t think your adopted daughter deserved to get allowance for her chores like your other children, and he beat her whenever she did something he didn’t like. At one point during this disagreement, he threatened to divorce you but you wouldn’t allow it. Eventually you won the argument but he’s been bitter ever since. Now, years later, you are arguing again—this time over everything.
Your oldest son, who is now an adult, recently announced his engagement to his boyfriend of five years. Your husband will not allow your son to get married because he believes homosexuality is a crime against nature and claims that your son getting married to a man would ruin your oldest daughter’s heterosexual marriage.
Back when you and your husband were arguing about your adopted daughter’s rights, he built an extension on the house and insisted that she stay there because it’s separate (but equal). The extension happens to fall on the other side of the town line. The other town–the one your adopted daughter technically lives in–has a much inferior school. You’ve argued that this is unfair and she should either be allowed to move into another room and attend the school the rest of your children go to or that you should work towards improving her school. Your husband doesn’t see this is a problem and denies it is a result of his previous animosity towards her. He also votes down the school budget every year and argues with the board of education to get evolution and sex education taken out of the curriculum.
May 13, 2013
Most people crave things that are sugary or greasy or otherwise unhealthy. Chocolate cake, for example. Or French fries—did you know French fries are the First Lady’s guilty pleasure? I knew I liked her for reasons beyond her politics and dedication to tackling childhood obesity. Most people, including health conscious ones, crave junk food, or at least that’s what they are vocal about craving. I don’t generally crave junk food. Aside from French fries, which I want to eat about 90% of the time, my food cravings are a little on the unorthodox side.
For example, the other day I was driving home from work, sitting in traffic on what must be the worst freeway in LA and thinking about how incompetent my health insurance company is, when all of a sudden I felt this overpowering urge for a glass of grapefruit juice. The odd part is that I don’t ever drink grapefruit juice. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I smelled grapefruit. Now you could argue this was my body telling me I need vitamin C, but if that were the case wouldn’t I crave orange juice, which I used to drink every morning?
Some of my more frequent cravings include tomatoes, pasta with lentils and Swiss chard, dumplings, peach ice cream, and Trader Joe’s olive hummus. None of these foods are that high in sugar or dense in calories (ice cream aside, obviously), and they’re not engineered by the food industry to induce cravings. So why on earth do I wake up in the morning and immediately think about, for instance, roast chicken with tahini sauce? It’s like my body is in a perpetual state of hysterical pregnancy. Continue reading
April 12, 2013
I’m not a fan of taking a “lunch break” when I’m at work. I much prefer to eat while I’m working and then go for a walk to clear my head, get some (somewhat) fresh air—I live in LA after all—and recharge my battery for the afternoon. Because of this, I almost always bring lunch from home. In this new “Lunchbox” series of posts, I’ll share with you all the recipes and tips I’ve compiled for creating healthful and easy lunches that hold up well and are packed with flavor.
I have very strict requirements for my work lunches that I almost always follow (rules are meant to be broken, of course!). First, the lunches can’t be messy. Try eating BBQ chicken while going through your emails: this is not conducive to productivity or cleanliness. Second, they have to be some combination of low-fat, low-carb, vegan or vegetarian. I’d rather save my indulgent meals for the weekend when I can enjoy them. Third, most of the prep work has to be done on Monday when I do my cooking for the week.
Lastly, and most importantly, my work lunches have to be full of fiber. This is a trick I’ve discovered after years of experimentation. Grain- and/or protein-centric meals do not keep me full for the day. If I eat a turkey sandwich, I’ll be hungry an hour later. So instead, I generally eat salads. That may sound counterintuitive, but the right kind of salad can fill you up without making you feel groggy or adding on extra calories. Continue reading
December 10, 2012
Falling in love with a place is much like falling in love with a person. For a while, this place can do no wrong; its flaws all have silver linings; each street, shop, and tree possesses some sort of magic to hold your fascination. Inevitably, the novelty of its newness will fade. The place won’t just be a place anymore—it will be a part of you. It will frustrate you and humble you and excite you and teach you about yourself and humanity. And one day, if you leave, you will face the jarring realization that it will always be a part of you and you will always miss it, even if you never want to return.
The first time I had such a realization was in 2010 when I moved back to the US from Egypt. Standing in the back yard of my parent’s house in New York, looking at the forest and the fallen leaves and the patches of melting snow that were so poignantly not Egypt, I knew that wherever I was, I’d feel a longing for the place that I wasn’t. Even now I sometimes stumble into a vivid flashback of the vegetable market near my apartment in Giza or the filthy roach-infested dive bar that I loved for the diptych of the owner and Gamal Abdel Nasser at the entrance. Sometimes I want to be standing on a hill in al-Azhar Park at dusk listening to the hum of mosques as they slowly join the call to prayer.
Now that I live in California, I feel the same longing for New York—for a hike on the Appalachian Trail when the leaves are changing color; for a coffee in Riverside Park when the tulips are in bloom; for a cross-country ski with my dad through sparkling fresh snow and icicle trees. Southern California, I already know, will always be a part of me too, and one day, if I leave, I’ll miss its friendly, politically engaged atmosphere and its barren alien landscape.
Perhaps it’s time for me to stop moving before my self is a collection of fragments scattered around the globe! Continue reading
November 21, 2012
Since the holidays are upon us, I feel obliged to write about my favorite one. You may have assumed I’m referring to Thanksgiving, since that’s every food and cooking enthusiast’s favorite holiday. But Thanksgiving is not my favorite holiday; James Bond Day is.
One could argue that James Bond Day is not a real holiday. It’s not on any calendar I’ve ever seen and I’m fairly certain no one outside my immediate family celebrates it. But don’t be too quick to dismiss James Bond Day. First, take a look at this list of holidays in November from a website that my colleagues and I like to peruse when we’re hard up for ideas for our monthly all-staff meeting activities (and in need of a laugh).
November is not just the month of Thanksgiving. It’s also National Georgia Pecan Month (which sounds like code for some kind of drug-centric hippie celebration), National Banana Pudding Lovers Month, Historic Bridge Awareness Month (some of these are quite specific), and National Impotency Month, which makes one wonder why there is no “awareness” in the title—are we supposed to be celebrating impotency? Today, November 21st, is Use Less Stuff Day. Not to be confused with Useless Stuff Day. November also doubles as Movember, that month when men like to torture their girlfriends or wives with unsightly and scratchy facial hair. Continue reading