My 30th Encroaches and Philadelphia-Style Lemon Ice Cream (No Eggs Involved)
My 30th birthday is September 5th. All the profanities, with their odd word combination (shitballs being an example), are not fit to type (oops) so I just left
them most for my head only. But really, when did this happen? I remember my 21st (it was rather bad for a coming of drinking age, involved a Pizza Hut and watching two pals make-out on the futon while I watched tv in my dorm because Greg was on a band trip somewhere along with most of the gang) and then the 25th was a lovely, crazy fun night and…crap, I’m due to be 30.
I’ve both freaked out in the “I won’t be in my 20’s” way with all the notions that there’s no going back…I know there was never any going back and I’ve been thinking about it as if I could have a makeover (new hairstyle/clothes/whiter teeth…), a sigh of relief that the 30’s seem to be when you get more things together. The point where you feel more empowered, focused, wonderful things happen in your 30’s, right? Gulp, kids.
But why am I telling you this now? No, I didn’t decide to do the 30 Things Before I’m 30 although I am drawn to the bloggers that have. I’m telling you because I want to lose 15 lbs. before that point. Super exciting stuff. I also want to get a new ‘do and wear clothes that reflect who I feel I am. My everyday is a t-shirt, nasty jeans (all with stains and holes and arguably maybe who I am truly) since I’m sanding, putting wood filler on some piece of furniture, working in dirt/mud for the yard renovation we’re going through, painting/staining…basically a whole lotta messy stuff. When I do have an opportunity to put something nice on, I don’t like much of anything I’ve got. Fatty Magoo I tell my reflection and turn away in disgust. Not in a sad but in a joking way. Don’t cry for me, lovers of ice cream.
So I resort to a nicer tee and jeans. It’s pathetic and only a blip of the person I used to be. Not talking about everyday and nothing expensive. That’s not my style.
Meeting clients and persons in the same field makes me feel uneasy as they look spiffy, reflecting what they want, and I look schlumpy. It doesn’t help that our house is a work in progress and scary empty/decorated for a furniture dealer/redecorator. When people step in, I bet they want to run or grab their pepper spray.
More than that, I disappoint myself. I mean, gee, I like fashion, budget fashion, and putting things together the same way I try to put together our house and furniture pieces. It just hasn’t been displayed in a long time or is that evident. When we have cash, I put it towards making more money (i.e. gathering more pieces to refinish) and since we have another goal to pay off a few debts-so close- by September, it seems counterintuitive to the whole makeover idea.
But at least I can lose the weight (again). Or, since I’ve started back on my new used treadmill, would like to have more energy and maybe become a runner with parts of my body changing shape. Hubba hubba.
I keep a journal of calorie intake because I am someone that has to. I can’t just say oh, I feel like I did well today to see the scale go up. My body just doesn’t work that way. Nor can I omit certain foods-pasta, rice, bread, sugar, most dairy, some fruits and veg, etc.. Been there and I can’t help but have Verdi’s Requiem Dies Iraes play in my mind with the idea that I should leave those out for a period of time. Sometimes it invokes triumphant, vindictive, “I can tackle anything” feelings which it’s not meant to but when I think about telling myself I can’t have this or that again, it’s terrifying as the song should be taken. My eyes opener wider and a frightened look comes over my face. It’s pretty evident I like food and I like allowing myself a treat once in a while, some chocolate, cheese, wine.
And it seems that every 3 years I have to re-lose the weight I worked hard to take off. This way has to be different than those times. I resorted to extreme means to achieve loss in days of yore. I didn’t realize it then but I do today.
I treadmill. I’m not a runner though. My short, fat legs and enormous rump try hard. Seriously, my ass doesn’t get smaller, it’s either not so toned or toned. It doesn’t fluctuate in size, like my arms and thighs, those parts are either toned or
less toned flabby. When I lost a little more than 20 lbs. the previous two times, I didn’t go down a pant size. I was more of a short distance, speedy runner in my younger days but anything requiring endurance and I’m yelling “hey, guys, wait for me…(stop, place hands on shins, try to catch my breathe)…go ahead, just leave me (sit on the curb, go for ice cream).”
Don’t get me wrong, I love the way I feel when a workout schedule is in place and I can go a pace I feel comfortable with, challenging myself in the privacy of my home. I used to run outside but an unkind young man made comments about my tuchus flopping up and down and that was it for me. I ignored it for a short period but became more self-conscious. Greg loves my giant arse.
Today’s recipe is one you won’t be seeing much in the next few months-ice cream. It will still be around but I can’t be making a large container, deceiving myself that I will have only a little at a time. One bad day will come and that evening will be where I break down and wipe it out in one sitting. Portion control. And this one with its lemon flavor will be refreshing, just the thing I need occasionally on this weight loss path. You won’t be needing to make a custard base (no eggs here) with this Philadelphia-style ice cream. Score! While the original recipe called for churning in an ice cream maker, and while I have one, I didn’t and it turned out dandy. But if you have an ice cream maker and care to, churn it according to the manufacturer’s directions.
Philadelphia-Style Lemon Ice Cream adapted from Luscious Lemon Desserts Cookbook
Makes about 3 cups
2 cups heavy cream
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup + 2 tbsp fresh lemon juice
2 tbsp finely grated lemon zest
pinch of salt
Whisk all the ingredients in a bowl. Let stand for 20 minutes at room temperature, whisk every couple of minutes to help dissolve the sugar.
Freeze this mixture for a few hours. Mine was ready to go but if you have an ice cream maker, churn according to the manufacturer’s instructions and store. Keeps for a week.