Although I tried my hardest to make the best of the Christmas season this year (for some reason, listening to copious amounts of Christmas music of Classic FM was helping the Prednisolone induced mood swings), Christmas Day was less of a success food-wise.
My second appointment with the dietitian started with the question “What the hell am I going to do about Christmas?” “You’re the fifth patient to ask me that today”, she said. I explained that I was going to my boyfriend’s parents, so I wasn’t doing the cooking. She gave me lots of advice about what I could eat and what was on the “no-go” list. Turkey is fine, but cut it up into very small pieces before eating so you don’t risk undigested meat going into your sore guts. Eat only the insides of roast potatoes, as the outsides will be too tough and fatty and potentially still have skin, which is “no-go”. Only have one other serving of veg, and make sure that it’s well cooked and not sprouts/broccoli/cauliflower/cabbage (yuck, yuck, yuck and yuck). No sausage stuffing or bacon wrap. You can use gravy to soften the meat, but only if it’s the cheap bisto stuff as the real thing has too much fat. Traditional Christmas pudding is “no-go” because of the dried fruit and nuts (and is anyway, because I’m allergic to grapes, and it’s full of raisins and brandy). The big thing is not to load your plate, not to eat too much and just eat a small meal. Right, all armed and prepared. Sort of.
I realized getting to the table that there wasn’t really anything I could eat other than the turkey. It was awful, and I felt really guilty sitting there in front of the cook of the feast, slowly picking my food apart into little pieces and taking ages longer than everyone else to eat half as much. I tried to follow the dietitian’s advice, but realized halfway through that what I had put on my plate wasn’t going to work for my sore guts. Needing some kind of carbohydrate in the meal other than just the guts of roasted potatoes, I grabbed a Yorkshire pudding and remembered halfway through eating it that it was probably made with soya milk because the cook is lactose intolerant. A fatal error when you have a long standing soya intolerance. I paid the price, and by 4:00 was experiencing an angry tum and a Prednisolone induced mood crash, which resulted in me pretty much bursting into tears and going home early where I spent the rest of the night curled up in bed with a book and a heat pack. Happy fucking Christmas. Oh well, I tried.
On another front, I didn’t undertake my usual Christmas baking frenzy this year as I simply lacked the energy, but thought I would make a cake for the occasion, as I hoped it would at least be one thing I could eat. My lovely boyfriend’s mother made jelly as an alternative to the Christmas pudding (as the grandkids like it), but seriously, I’ve eaten so much jelly over the past few months that if I never see it again, I will be very happy. Unfortunately, she put fresh fruit in it, which made it “no-go”. She didn’t know. And that’s ultimately the problem at the moment. *I* don’t know what I can eat, so what the hell am I supposed to tell someone else who is trying to feed me?!!! Again, I just felt really awful, because I know that she was just trying to be accommodating.
Either way, I made gingerbread cake after consulting with the dietitian about the ingredients in this recipe. I actually originally found this recipe on the Splenda Canada website https://www.splenda.ca/recipes/gingerbread-cake/?search=gingerbread%20cake when cooking for a Type 1 diabetic used to be a regular part of my cooking life. Even though it is meant to be a more “healthy” cake because applesauce replaces most of the fat, it seriously is the nicest gingerbread cake I’ve ever had! It’s bloody moist thanks to the applesauce.
As I wasn’t cooking specifically for anyone diabetic this time, I adapted it and used sugar instead. I made the applesauce out of Bramley apples, and pulverised the hell out of it with the hand blender so it was pretty much puree. It was gorgeous. And it went down a treat, despite angry belly. Of course, my boyfriend and his family devoured the whole thing at tea time after I left, so I never got a second piece.
Gingerbread Cake
• 2 cups (500 ml) Unsweetened Applesauce
• 3/4 cup (175 ml) Treacle
• 1 1/3 cup (325 mk) Granulated Sugar
• 1/3 cup (75 ml) Sunflower Oil
• 3 Eggs
• 3 cups (750 ml) All-Purpose Flour
• 2 tsp (10 ml) Baking Soda
• 1 tsp (5 ml) Baking Powder
• 1/2 tsp (3 ml) Salt
• 2 tsp (10 ml) Ground Ginger
• 1 1/2 tsp (8 ml) Cinnamon
• 1/2 tsp (3 ml) Ground Cloves
Preheat oven to 180C. Grease and flour a bundt pan.
Pour applesauce, treacle, sugar and vegetable oil into a large
mixing bowl. Add eggs. Stir well.
Blend remaining dry ingredients in a separate bowl. Mix well.
Add dry ingredients to the applesauce mixture. Stir well.
Pour cake batter into prepared pan. Bake for 50 to 60 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the centre comes out clean. Remove from oven. Cool cake in pan on a wire rack approximately 20 minutes. Invert cake onto serving plate.
I decided to put a bit of a glaze on this one. For that, I used -
• ½ cup of Icing Sugar
• ½ tsp of Vanilla Extract
• About 1tbsp of Rice Milk
I mixed that together and drizzled it over the cake.
My Prednisolone munchies think I should make another one . . . .
My second appointment with the dietitian started with the question “What the hell am I going to do about Christmas?” “You’re the fifth patient to ask me that today”, she said. I explained that I was going to my boyfriend’s parents, so I wasn’t doing the cooking. She gave me lots of advice about what I could eat and what was on the “no-go” list. Turkey is fine, but cut it up into very small pieces before eating so you don’t risk undigested meat going into your sore guts. Eat only the insides of roast potatoes, as the outsides will be too tough and fatty and potentially still have skin, which is “no-go”. Only have one other serving of veg, and make sure that it’s well cooked and not sprouts/broccoli/cauliflower/cabbage (yuck, yuck, yuck and yuck). No sausage stuffing or bacon wrap. You can use gravy to soften the meat, but only if it’s the cheap bisto stuff as the real thing has too much fat. Traditional Christmas pudding is “no-go” because of the dried fruit and nuts (and is anyway, because I’m allergic to grapes, and it’s full of raisins and brandy). The big thing is not to load your plate, not to eat too much and just eat a small meal. Right, all armed and prepared. Sort of.
I realized getting to the table that there wasn’t really anything I could eat other than the turkey. It was awful, and I felt really guilty sitting there in front of the cook of the feast, slowly picking my food apart into little pieces and taking ages longer than everyone else to eat half as much. I tried to follow the dietitian’s advice, but realized halfway through that what I had put on my plate wasn’t going to work for my sore guts. Needing some kind of carbohydrate in the meal other than just the guts of roasted potatoes, I grabbed a Yorkshire pudding and remembered halfway through eating it that it was probably made with soya milk because the cook is lactose intolerant. A fatal error when you have a long standing soya intolerance. I paid the price, and by 4:00 was experiencing an angry tum and a Prednisolone induced mood crash, which resulted in me pretty much bursting into tears and going home early where I spent the rest of the night curled up in bed with a book and a heat pack. Happy fucking Christmas. Oh well, I tried.
On another front, I didn’t undertake my usual Christmas baking frenzy this year as I simply lacked the energy, but thought I would make a cake for the occasion, as I hoped it would at least be one thing I could eat. My lovely boyfriend’s mother made jelly as an alternative to the Christmas pudding (as the grandkids like it), but seriously, I’ve eaten so much jelly over the past few months that if I never see it again, I will be very happy. Unfortunately, she put fresh fruit in it, which made it “no-go”. She didn’t know. And that’s ultimately the problem at the moment. *I* don’t know what I can eat, so what the hell am I supposed to tell someone else who is trying to feed me?!!! Again, I just felt really awful, because I know that she was just trying to be accommodating.
Either way, I made gingerbread cake after consulting with the dietitian about the ingredients in this recipe. I actually originally found this recipe on the Splenda Canada website https://www.splenda.ca/recipes/gingerbread-cake/?search=gingerbread%20cake when cooking for a Type 1 diabetic used to be a regular part of my cooking life. Even though it is meant to be a more “healthy” cake because applesauce replaces most of the fat, it seriously is the nicest gingerbread cake I’ve ever had! It’s bloody moist thanks to the applesauce.
As I wasn’t cooking specifically for anyone diabetic this time, I adapted it and used sugar instead. I made the applesauce out of Bramley apples, and pulverised the hell out of it with the hand blender so it was pretty much puree. It was gorgeous. And it went down a treat, despite angry belly. Of course, my boyfriend and his family devoured the whole thing at tea time after I left, so I never got a second piece.
Gingerbread Cake
• 2 cups (500 ml) Unsweetened Applesauce
• 3/4 cup (175 ml) Treacle
• 1 1/3 cup (325 mk) Granulated Sugar
• 1/3 cup (75 ml) Sunflower Oil
• 3 Eggs
• 3 cups (750 ml) All-Purpose Flour
• 2 tsp (10 ml) Baking Soda
• 1 tsp (5 ml) Baking Powder
• 1/2 tsp (3 ml) Salt
• 2 tsp (10 ml) Ground Ginger
• 1 1/2 tsp (8 ml) Cinnamon
• 1/2 tsp (3 ml) Ground Cloves
Preheat oven to 180C. Grease and flour a bundt pan.
Pour applesauce, treacle, sugar and vegetable oil into a large
mixing bowl. Add eggs. Stir well.
Blend remaining dry ingredients in a separate bowl. Mix well.
Add dry ingredients to the applesauce mixture. Stir well.
Pour cake batter into prepared pan. Bake for 50 to 60 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the centre comes out clean. Remove from oven. Cool cake in pan on a wire rack approximately 20 minutes. Invert cake onto serving plate.
I decided to put a bit of a glaze on this one. For that, I used -
• ½ cup of Icing Sugar
• ½ tsp of Vanilla Extract
• About 1tbsp of Rice Milk
I mixed that together and drizzled it over the cake.
My Prednisolone munchies think I should make another one . . . .
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