I recently had to do the unspeakable. I shall post my confession here in the spirit of "keeping it real". I bought two pairs of size 14 jeans, after staying in size 12's for at least two years. My waistline had crept up a little before the holiday season even started, but my jeans were still fitting. Sort of. Anyone who has fought a weight problem all her life will understand this: As I gain a pound here and a pound there, I always notice that some of my less roomy jeans are a little tight, so I move them to the bottom of the drawer and proudly tell myself, "Well, you are still in a size 12. You can lose five pounds or so any time you please."
You know how it goes. I was still hunting out the most forgiving pairs of jeans I owned, as well as digging out the sweats to wear around the house, when I started thinking about my mother's fruit cake, which I haven't made in years because (duh) I love it and it is very fattening. I thought about my age and how quickly death is approaching and decided I did not want to go to my grave without tasting that fruitcake one more time.
You have enough of the details. I do, by the way, hereby promise that Cliff and I are going to get back on track by the first of the year. Feel free to ask me later how that worked out for me.
Isn't it funny how once you start letting things go like this, you think of every food you have been denying yourself for years? Last week I got out the waffle iron because from the time I was a kid, I have loved waffles and prefer them vastly over pancakes, but I deny myself for the cause. While I'm still on a roll, I determined to have waffles.
My waffle iron is Teflon, and supposed to be non-stick, but it was never non-stick even from the first time I used it. I learned to use Pam spray before every waffle session, but once in awhile I'd forget and end up scraping stuck waffle bits off that thing for an hour, at which time I would give up and soak the mess off in the sink.
Well, I haven't had Pam in the house for a long time, but it seemed to me that if I soaked a paper towel in Crisco and rubbed it around the hot waffle iron, that should do the trick.
It didn't work, and I ended up with the usual mess. Rather than waste the made-from-scratch batter, Cliff, Cora, and I had pancakes. I came THIS CLOSE to tossing the waffle iron in the trash, but decided to buy some Pam and give it another chance. We had waffles this morning, and they didn't even attempt to stick. Nice, crispy waffles. I am SO full.
The worst thing about making waffles is that even with only two people eating them, there is a long wait between servings before the next one is done. But good things are worth waiting for.
I love the old waffle recipe from the 1960 Better Homes and Garden cookbook (HERE). Beating the egg whites until they're stiff and gently folding them in makes for the lightest, crispiest waffles on the planet.
Yes friends, keep me honest after Christmas. I need help... Cliff needs even MORE help... and I do not want to keep getting larger britches each year for the rest of my life.