thursday, april 3rd, 2008

I think most restaurant cooks would back me up when I say that the life of a chef is not as glamorous as the glossy cooking shows on television would have their audiences believe. More often than not, the exhausting days fly by in an adrenaline fueled blur of dicing, braising, plating and lifting. At the end of the night, as the sweaty chef jacket is peeled away, mystery burns emerge and limbs, fingers and even toes ache from a day spent in dizzying perpetual motion.

As I make my way from the chaos of the kitchen to the streets of Manhattan that now seem utterly calm and peaceful in comparison, my head slows down and sets itself right again after hours of swimming in the searing, bubbling swirl of the day. It wants nothing more than to hit the pillow, close its heavy eyes and enter dreamland. Granted, dreams are often filled with the sous chef crying "Fire the dal! Where's my lamb sandwich! Redo on the skate!" and this is often enough to jar me awake in a twitching panic, but at least, while it lasted, it was blessed sleep.

While it may sound like a deplorable way to spend a working life, I think most chefs would also agree that as twisted and demented as it sounds, it's the only place they want to be (besides tucked away in a deep cozy bed or, and I hate to feed the stereotype but it's frequently true, bellied up to a bar). I was recently riding the adrenaline wave of exhilaration that only a restaurant kitchen can inspire until I hit a snag. A snag in my spine.

For the past month, I've been whining to anyone who would listen about the deplorable state of my back. I will spare readers the torn, bulging, slipping details but suffice it to say, for the past few weeks I have become way too familiar with cortisone, physical therapists and I now invite my spinal specialist over for Sunday dinners. Alright, no spinal specialist at Sunday dinner but suffice it to say, the recovery has been an annoying and painful one. But I remain optimistic, despite the fact that said specialist recently told me I have the back of an eighty year old woman and should expect a lifetime of spinal problems. Joy! I'm so glad I finally have something to look forward to in my life.

Sarcasm aside, I'm trying to remain positive and in the spirit of optimism, along with the magic of prescription wonder patches that essentially numb my back like a novocaine shot numbs a gum, I've started running again. I've been running for over a decade now. It's my Prozac and my Zoloft and whenever life feels overwhelming, it's what I turn to set myself right. Not being able to run for the past month is one of the reasons why I've felt so entirely stressed, scattered and frustrated by any little thing that I normally could have easily run out of my system. The runs started out small, three miles here, five miles there, but a half hour on the pavement never provides enough time to shake myself free of the pressures that pile up during the day. I promised myself longer runs and longer runs always lead me to think about marathons. I've run five so far but it's been a few years since my last agonizing, yet strangely invigorating, 26.2 mile adventure (or torture session, depending upon the mile).

As a way to prove to my spine that I have faith in it and in order to make the long runs that I plan to do count for something, I registered for the New York City marathon that takes place in November. I've run it twice before but sign up for it annually as every long distance runner on the planet wants to run this race and acceptance is therefore based on a lottery system with slim margins. The good news is that if you can tough out three years of rejection in a row, you're automatically accepted the fourth year, so while the odds are slim, there's always the year four carrot dangling in front of you. It's what convinces me to register year after year. Since I ran the marathon three years ago, I've only been rejected twice since but I'm optimistic that I'll get accepted this year as all the karma I've racked up with my pained back has got to count for something.

As my back up plan (pardon the pun in the context of this story), I've also registered for the Portland marathon in early October. Acceptance is a guarantee and while it might mean that I'll be running two marathons within a month of each other, at least I'll be all trained up by the time I hit the New York course and won't have to feel like quite such a degenerate as the world's most elite runners fly by me at speeds so fast it renders them zipping blurs of long, sinewy legs and spandex.  

Last week I went on my first training run for the marathon(s). I decided to go for 13 miles as a half marathon always feels like nothing in the context of a marathon. Granted, on a marathon course when you spot the mile thirteen marker and want to tell yourself, "Great job Jody, you just ran a half marathon," it can be quite depressing to then tell yourself, "Keep it up, you're half way there."

To fuel the run, I was going to go with my usual dull but satisfying bowl of Grape Nuts but since this first long run in several weeks seemed to symbolize something significant (recovery), I christened it with something special. Chewy homemade granola bars packed with bits of goodness, texture and complexity was just what I needed to start the run off right. They're easy to make and since each and every bite is packed with ingredients geared to fuel a long run, or even a long day without a run, a small portion goes a long way. They're easy to pull together and while the ingredient list is fairly long, I like a granola bar with dimension and character. It's fun to play around with this recipe. Therefore, omit, add or substitute ingredients to achieve your very own energy packed bar of preference. It alone might not get you through a thirteen mile run, or a twelve hour day in a restaurant kitchen, but it goes a long way in providing the fuel needed to get the feet to the pavement or to the kitchen and keep them there.

Chewy Granola Bars

1 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup unsalted butter, softened
2 tablespoons honey
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 egg
1 cup all purpose flour
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup oatmeal
1 cup cooked brown rice
1 cup crisp rice cereal
1 cup chopped almonds (or nuts of preference)
1/2 cup pepitos
1/2 cup dried cranberries (use raisins or other dried fruit if preferred)
3 tablespoons sesame seeds
1/2 cup wheat germ

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease a 9 x 13 inch pan

2. In a large bowl, beat together the brown sugar, white sugar and softened butter until it is fluffy and light. Add the honey, vanilla and egg and mix until fully incorporated. In a medium sized bowl, combine the flour, cinnamon, baking soda and salt and then add it to the butter mixture in stages, mixing well between each addition. Add the remaining eight ingredients to the mixture and stir by hand until fully incorporated and distributed evenly.

3. Press the batter firmly into the pan. Bake for twenty to twenty five minutes until the edges are toasty brown and the center is set and golden. Cool completely before cutting. Bars will keep in a covered container for up to a week and a half.

Yield: one 9 X13 inch pan of granola bars