Avoiding diabetes for boards

Everyone has their own plan to survive boards. My friend Lauren seems to be the queen of this: she has pre-made healthy homemade meals (vegetable soups, butternut squash mac-and-cheese) in single servings in the freezer, a fashion theme for each day ("On Fridays we wear PINK!") to keep it interesting, and even a customized daily yoga plan from her yoga teacher. All tricks, of course, to get herself to study every day for five weeks. My role model.

My plan for boards is to not get diabetes. I love to snack, especially while studying, and I recently realized that the bowls of free bite-size candy around school could become a problem given the long days sitting in front of a computer. I also realized that I prefer savory snacks to sweet, but that sweet is what's usually easy and available.

So, for week one, I premade a couple of these kale salads from Smitten Kitchen, which are really good (or I wouldn't repost them). I substituted tomato for dried cranberries, skipped the cheese, and used olive oil and balsamic instead of making a salad dressing, but the real "secret ingredients" that make this salad are the lemon zest (not sour or bitter like lemon juice, but complements the kale) and chopped scallion (pretty subtle). Crunchy, refreshing, and yet hearty with the almonds and quinoa!

I also made these whole wheat English muffins from the NY Times Recipes for Health: not particularly healthy, as they had about half a stick of butter for six (large) muffins, but incredibly delicious. Easy to make, I would make them again in a heartbeat (next weekend?).

Finally, tonight I'm planning on filling veggie tacos with this savory/salty/crunchy-looking avocado-cabbage slaw.

Ever feel like you can't muster the energy to be creative? Board studying is leaving little room in my brain for anything else, including even the most minimal decisions... And this is when it's good to have some trusted recipes to turn to. (Or it would be grilled cheese every night...)

Grandmother's banana bread

Recognizing that it is Passover and that my grandmother would have cleaned her house of bread by now (a ritual I used to do with her), I wanted to post this recipe for my grandmother's banana bread because I made it last week and it made me think of her. Cooking is a powerful thing: it takes us back to the past not only through taste but through doing the exact same ritual, following the same steps as someone in the past.

I've been wanting to post for a while something brief about the deaths of my four grandparents, two of whom died this past year and the other two almost-a-decade and over-a-decade ago. What better time to post than 10 minutes into a placental pathology lecture?

With each of my grandparents's deaths, I felt a drastically different emotion. With my mother's mother (whose banana bread recipe this is), I became anxious, and remember clinging to my mother over the months that we visited New Jersey as my grandmother was dying. It was my first taste of dying and the parallels between my mother's mother and my mother were obvious to me. When my first grandfather died, I felt pure grief, which was a relief in a way because sadness has been sanctified as a normal emotion around death. My second grandmother's death made me sad in a quiet sort of way, as I felt that it was "her time," relatively speaking; I've written about her here and here. When my last grandparent died, I felt relief because he had been a difficult man whose relationships with others were equally difficult--and later I felt guilt at that relief. I haven't written about him at all.

All of this to reflect that some emotions around death are expected, others a surprise; some endorsed, others shameful. Our patients' family members may not feel as we expect them to feel--and certainly not all feel the same way--and it is up to us to observe, listen, and modify the comfort we offer. Perhaps that makes empathy more interesting?

Banana bread:

• 1 1/4 cups white sugar
• 1 stick butter
• 2 eggs
• 1 teaspoon vanilla
• 1 teaspoon baking soda 
• 1/4 cup sour cream or plain yogurt
• 1 1/2 cups flour (white or whole wheat)
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 1 cup mushy/smashed/rotten bananas (about 3-4 bananas)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees and grease a loaf pan. Cream butter, sugar, eggs, and vanilla. Separately, lightly beat the baking soda into the sour cream until dissolved; add to the mix and beat well. Stir in bananas, flour, and salt and mix well. Bake for 45-60 minutes until a knife inserted into the middle comes out clean; better undercooked than overcooked.

The original recipe is written out in my grandmother's handwriting on a water-stained index card in a tin at home. Smitten Kitchen has an interesting and amusing post about how many of our "grandmother's recipes" originated in the 50s; no promises that this banana bread goes back to the Old Country.

Mind. Blown.

Over the past 24 hours, I was following this recipe, adapted from Sullivan Street Bakery in NYC, which I know makes fantastic breads. Blindly following along (nearly exactly, except that I used two smaller pots instead of one large pot at the end), I had no idea that I would wind up with perfect baguette. The crust, chew, and flavor of this loaf are on par with the best baguette I've ever had. If not for the shape and the fact that it needs an ounce more salt, it would be indistinguishable from the best. I can't recommend the recipe highly enough!

And it takes next to no time, other than the time needed to wait for the bread to rise (18 hours), then rise again (two hours), then bake (30-60 minutes). No kneading. Perfect for a busy med student!

Not to be gross, but after seeing yeast infections all week, it's nice to know that something good can from from yeast as well.

The top crust

The bottom crust

First slices (now gone)

Vegetarian feast

In the summer, vegetables are plentiful, but I find that it's not always obvious how to get the most out of them. Two summers ago, when I had a CSA share and more vegetables than I knew what to do with, I found myself making some pretty inedible vegetable soups and longing for more substance. In previous years, I've been enamored with the same corn, tomatoes, and salad every night. Here in my small town in Guatemala, vegetables are fresh and abundant, meat is scarce, and staples such as rice, beans, and flour are cheap and easily available.

I think I've figured out what to do to: buy whatever looks good; cook most vegetables separately with onion or garlic plus one other spice; supplement with a simple starch or protein. Cooking separately keeps flavors fresher and makes for a more varied and interesting meal.

On Saturday night, I shared a vegetarian feast with some friends. Many people to chop and to share in the variety of dishes, all freshly made from scratch with a bit of local flavor:

• smoky eggplant dip
• guacamole (recipe below)
• sweet potato chips (recipe below)
• white bread
• cheese and butter for my German friends
• salad consisting of chopped tomatoes, carrots, and zucchini (the latter sauteed first with onion in a bit of butter and oil before tossing with the other raw veggies)

A feast!

Sweet potato chips and eggplant dip 

Freshly baked bread

Simple guacamole:

Mash together avocados, lime juice, one clove or less of chopped garlic, salt & pepper. Fewer ingredients brings out the flavor of the each.

Sweet potato chips:

Peel sweet (or regular) potatoes and slice 1/2 cm thin. Toss in olive oil, salt & pepper, and an herb (such as rosemary or thyme) then spread out on a baking dish so that pieces are not overlapping. Bake at high heat until pieces are crispy, turning each piece over to cook on both sides. Recipe courtesy of Nick Haas.