There is one thing I will never flaunt, and that is my cooking skills. I am grateful if I enjoy what I made, because that’s not a given.
I’m about to declutter my kitchen and I think a number of spices will disappear when I do. I never use them. I don’t know how to use them. And no, I’m not interested in learning. I can’t learn.
The great national holiday in Norway, on May 17th, is a far more involved and formal event than the equivalent celebration in the US, on July 4th. There are also a lot of traditions and traditional food associated with the day. This year, I’m going to partake in a 17th of May breakfast in town.
Spaghetti was always my favorite food growing up. I had to give it up when I went low-carb. Last night I had it again, with buckwheat noodles. Tomato sauce, broccoli florets, chicken meatballs and lots of cheese. Yummy! This morning I did my 1-minute wake-up routine of doing steps on my ottoman while lifting with barbells. And I felt absolutely great doing it. Nothing hurt, nothing creaked, I didn’t have to keep catching my balance. I didn’t even get winded. Is there really more to comfort food or favorite foods than just taste or emotional balm? Hmmm…
As healthy and as long-lived as Norwegians are, they are plagued by one baffling disease: Osteoporosis. As a woman who has lived here for part of her childhood and all of her adulthood, this is something to be concerned about. Is it genetic? Is it dietary? We may have the answer, finally. Continue reading
Coughing so hard, I can hardly breathe. Coughing so hard, I start to feel twinges I shouldn’t. This is what I had in February, and for a while I thought I had the flu. I didn’t. Instead, my body has decided that some foods are not good for me. Continue reading
I’ve never eaten at McDonald’s as much I have in Norway. Ironically. You’d think I’d be a regular when I lived in California, but no. Meanwhile, in Norway, McDonald’s has been vote Best Employer for 2016. Continue reading
The thing about growing up with a Norwegian grandfather is that you assume everybody has a cheese slicer and egg cups. Turns out that one of the things American immigrants left behind in Europe were egg cups. Continue reading