fluid, functional, flexible
Ever had that feeling you absolutely need cake? Maybe not cake – you can insert whatever guilt inducing snack you like – but it’s the only solution to whatever ails you. I had a really hardcore day on Sunday, and on Monday afternoon, I needed pie. Apple pie. Maybe it was my brother mentioning a cafe in Newport who make an apple pie milkshake, or maybe it was my long held belief sugar and fat cure everything. Either way, nothing was gonna stand in the way of me and pie!
At this point it’s probably smart to say for me, the eating of cake, or pie, or anything like that represents massive self sabotage. Usually when I’ve been training hard, eating really well, and lost weight. Throw in a bad day, and bam, everything comes undone. This situation ticked all those boxes – on Monday morning, I’d weighed myself (just for interests sake okay?) and had lost two kilos thanks to sensible training and eating. If I let myself slip when I feel down, everything goes out the window, but usually I’m only aware of this when I’m wondering why I’ve regained weight, and how come there are so many boxes of chicken nuggets in the recycling.
But this time, something was off about my usual behaviour because I took time to think about where I’d buy pie from. Normally, I’d have been out the door without a second thought. The easiest and cheapest option was the supermarket – but I knew it would leave me with three more pies than I needed (Sarah Lee don’t do single serves – and I’m not a big fan of leaving things uneaten), and the need to bake. An upmarket bakery meant parking in overcrowded Yarraville, and getting changed into something decent. It was suddenly a lot of trouble.
I found some apples in the kitchen, and scoured the cupboards for complimentary ingredients. We don’t buy sugar, but I had a jar of coconut syrup, a stick of butter and a whole boatload of cinnamon. And really, if you ignore the pastry, that’s a great pie right there.
I chopped apple, sprinkled cinnamon, threw in some butter and syrup, and because I’m all about instant gratification, put it in the microwave for two and a half minutes. Then back in for another minute thirty. Some organic yoghurt made it really awesome. And practically guilt free, which was my favorite part.
The moral of my story is when you’re about to eat something you might not be so happy about later, wait a little while. That pie (or whatever you’re thinking about) will still be there for you in half an hour, but you might not want it so much by then. Or you might have come up with a slightly less calorie laden option.
In case you felt like making it, my faux apple pie could be constructed with brown sugar instead of coconut syrup, leave the butter out if you wanted to (mine is grassfed, comes from Warrnambool and I love to put it on everything I can), add nutmeg to the cinnamon (I was too lazy to grate any), and have cream instead of yoghurt. Since I’ve made this a couple of times at the gym, at least two of my workmates have been converted.
Next time I’m thinking about coating the apple in cinnamon and frying it in butter until it’s caramelised. But maybe I have a little too much time on my hands …