The fabulous Sher over at What Did You Eat? inspired me to reach both inside my southern roots and outside my southern roots for this one in that when I saw her recipe for Herbed Brown Rice, Corn, and Edamame, it looked so clean and wonderfully fresh tasting, it reminded me of succotash and I realized that I could never remember eating succotash in my whole life. Maybe I have but I don't remember it. I've had all the ingredients separately but I don't remember growing up with mom combining them or having ever done so myself before. Then, after witnessing Sher's week long vegan experiment, which didn't look easy, but it did look noble and her food was beautiful, I decided that along with my new emphasis on cooking healthy around here that I'll be serving up more meatless meals from now on, starting with something similar to that recipe of Sher's. Actually, I could have made Sher's recipe but I would have had to go to the grocery and that would have required energy, something I didn't have at the time so instead I made up my own little concoction from what I did have on hand. Next time, I will try yours, Sher, because I'm sold on the concept and so was Gene. He loved it!
Okay, I have to step back and confess yet again. Partly, my motivation for more meatless meals is a genuine desire for stepping up our eating health now that I'm out of school and have the time to cook again. But partly, and this is the confession, Gene's paying a price for my weird taste vagaries. I go through periods where food repulses me slightly, specifically meat. It's really more of a texture thing than a philosophical vegetarian argument kind of thing. Some days I just don't like the way beef and poultry chew. I don't really understand why, I just know I don't like 'em in my mouth because of the texture. Go figure. Taste is fine so I have no problem with chicken or beef stock or animal protein in general as long as I can't feel it. Then usually, after a few weeks of that, I wake up one morning and think "Sure could tuck into a nice thick, juicy, pink steak." (I know. Pity Gene for having to live with the crazy woman.) Again, don't understand it but I've decided not to fight it anymore. Who cares why? I've decided I'm simply going to start listening to my body more and giving it what it think it needs in the moment, except when it holds me hostage for Krispy Kremes (there is no redeeming health value in Krispy Kremes, sorry to be the one to break it to you, folks) or maraschino cherries (I'll have to do a post about those someday. The amount of dye in each of them is a mini cancer bomb but I love them anyway.)