Last Night's Dinner: 'Fiery' Tilapia with Cucumber-Snow Pea Salad

I put together last-night's dinner from several recipes, mainly Allrecipes.com's "Fiery Fish Tacos with Corn Salsa." I didn't want the calories from taco shells, so I just pan-fired the tilapia in Brian's grandmother's cast iron skillet with some olive oil. Yum.

I intended to mix the salsa with the white jasmine rice but left it separated, Brian's preference; for what it's worth, he ended up mixing them together, and it tasted great. It balanced the tilapia well. I was afraid the recipe's spice mix of cayenne, pepper and salt would be scathing hot, but it wasn't.

I chose the cucumber and snow pea salad because I wanted something green, cold and with lime, to match the salsa. I have Bill Granger's "Everyday" to thank for that recipe.

Tonight's dinner will feature many of the same vegetables, some leftover rice and chicken. We'll see what I come up with.

Girl & The Goat's Good!

I haven't told you about Girl & The Goat: It's good!

Earlier I wrote about being a little nervous that the restaurant would be "too much girl and not enough goat," my response to Stephanie Izard's face's being plastered all over the Web site -- clearly capitalizing on her "Top Chef" win. Would the highlight be the food, or the fact we're eating at a TV personality's (albeit a very likable one's) restaurant?

But I was wrong. Her seafood and vegetable dishes offer refreshing surprises; I'd compare her meat selections to that of other quality offal-loving chefs, such as Paul Kahan's at Publican.

Take this surprise as an example: light and fluffy chickpea fritters without a hint of grease, set atop cherry-size heirloom tomatoes and mozzarella -- what ended up being my favorite dish. A close second: the spicy, grilled baby octopus mixed with beans and a lemon-pistachio vinaigrette.

We also really liked the veal, goat and something-else sugo -- homemade thick pasta with meat that had a pulled-pork consistency -- and the pig face, which is like you'd guess, kinda like pork belly.

My least favorite dish ended up being a dessert Brian loved: a goat-cheese cheesecake with blueberries. I could barely swallow it; Brian nearly licked the tourine.

The atmosphere is sophisticated-casual as most gastropubs are these days, but unfortunately it's loud; get ready to yell your way through the meal. Still, we were seated promptly at our reservation time despite the full-house, and the service was great. When so many things are right, it's hard to pick a fight over the noise.

So Stephanie Izard's food really is as good as it looks on TV, and watching her expedite, she seems just as calm as she appeared. Good for her!

We'll be back.

The 'Hot Racing Mess' Who Finished

I present to you my divisional results (Women 30-34)  for the individual legs of the sprint distance Chicago Triathlon, which took place along the lakefront yesterday. Can you guess when I had the asthma attack?

Swim (1/2 mile): 17th of 219

Bike (13.7 miles): 22nd of 219

Run (3.1 miles): 215 of 219

I guess it was a sign I wasn't in tip-top shape when, right before we started the race, a spectator heard me coughing and joked to me that I should have laid off the cigarettes the morning of the race. 

As soon as I got in the water, I could tell I couldn't inhale to full lung capacity. That said, it's really easy for me to control my breathing in swimming, so I just plowed ahead and got on a roll! The water was 72 degrees, and I had fresh arms. It felt like last year: a perfect swim. 

I passed nearly everyone in my wave and started to take on the next; by 14 minutes, 33 seconds, I was out of the water (if you look up my time, it includes the 2? 3? block run to transition area, during which I saw a few people sprint past me -- still came in 17th though). 

After transition, I hopped on my bike and dealt with the same southwest headwind both directions --a pain in the ass on any day. A quarter of the way I could tell my lack of lung strength was starting to take a toll. I was also shivering, despite guzzling water all morning and an already-warm air temperature. 

The last half of the bike race I didn't feel like I was "racing" anymore, just getting through it -- and not because of muscle fatigue, which is typical: just my lungs and that shivering thing. I began to think of quitting, which felt like a brilliant idea -- until I imagined having to tell people I quit the race. Do I listen to my body? Or am I being too sensitive and not strong enough mentally? Will I get pneumonia again if I keep stressing my lungs?

By the time I got off the bike, I felt dizzy and sauntered to my transition spot to get my run gear on, coaching myself on breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth. Three minutes and something-seconds later (a long-ass transition time) I slowly walked to the start line of the run portion, feeling dazed. At this point, I was 98 percent of the way to giving up.

A woman saw me walking (still on the course), stepped in front of me and said, agitated, "Did you finish the race?" The look I gave her answered her question. By the time I saw Brian, maybe about a city block-length, I was taking off my race number.

The first thing I said to him was, "I don't feel good. I don't want to get pneumonia again." Then I started crying. And then I felt like a loser. 

Brian told me I could quit and he wanted me to be healthy, and getting that confirmation made me not want to quit. So, I put on a long-sleeve T-shirt he'd brought along to warm up and began walking the 3.1 miles.

Thing is, Brian wouldn't let me do it alone. He spent the next 3 miles at my side, walking or trotting with me with a backpack on, which isn't easy. He later told me it wasn't just for support but to make sure nothing happened to me, which was good, because the next 47 minutes featured me gasping for air, stopping, breathing in through my nose deeply and out through my mouth, coughing, then trying to run/trot once my breath was regulated, only to have to walk again -- a hot racing mess.

I didn't mention Brian has been fighting a cold too. What a guy... 

I picked up the pace toward the end when I saw the finish and actually had to stop short of the finish line to try to breathe. I crossed the finish line, went into full-blown attack mode, heard my dad call my name, waved to him, then was ushered by triathlon medical staff into the medic tent, where an awesome and very nice crew gave me an Albuterol treatment and oxygen.

I had an easy time -- someone finished the race and began having seizures. You can see the medic team that worked on me working on that person here.

I summarized the race in a Facebook update and got kudos from several friends, one even calling me inspirational. It's really touching, but honestly, I call it stupid more than anything. I'm glad I started the race, even if I wasn't in the greatest shape; I tried. But once the asthma kicked in full-force, I shouldn't have continued. It's not healthy! And if I grew worse, the chaos on the course could have messed up other people, too, or taken resources away from more serious cases. 

In case you're wondering, I didn't bring my inhaler because I didn't even think of it. I use inhalers temporarily when I'm fighting something like bronchitis or pneumonia, and although I should have taken one with me, just in case, I didn't even put two and two together that a chest cold from last week could trigger an asthma attack during a race. Again, stupid.

It's a race I'd rather forget; I finished almost a half hour after I normally do. Brian says he's more proud of me for finishing this race than any other. I'm trying hard to forget the time, even if I still managed to finish ahead of a lot of people who were perfectly healthy. 

There's always next year. :) 

A special shout out to:
* The medic team. So sharp and on the lookout, I have been taking their standby assistance for granted each race.
* Brian. Duh. Not only did he do a 5K with me spur-of-the-moment, but I thanked him by leaving in the medic tent his Oakley sunglasses he lent me. Sheesh. Yes, I probably could have crossed the finish line without him, but I would not have been as strong. He's there for every race I do.
* My parents, who not only came out to the race but had to watch their daughter gasping for air and disappear with doctors. They also waiting a long time while we collected my gear to drive me home.
* The random people who saw me struggling and called out my race number, cheering for me to "stay strong," "keep it up" and "walk through it." Admittedly, I was annoyed when, while coughing and heaving, some of 'em yelled, "You're lookin' good!" but that's my problem: they were trying to be nice and pry didn't even realize the irony of the cheer they chose to yell.  


And to the fellow racer who looked at me and Brian as she passed and said, VERY snarkily, as we walked, "You know you're in the middle of a triathlon, right?": 

I finished, bitch.

Race Day's Around the Corner ...

It's another gorgeous day and another opportunity to work out, but I'm holding back. I haven't worked out in a week because I've been sick. Now, I'm just about well, but considering I have the Chicago Triathlon Sunday, I can't afford a relapse and am trying to play it safe.

You generally taper yourself before a race, shortening your workouts' duration and intensity closer to the event. I'm dying to get a little something in -- I want to move! And it's stunning outside! -- but if I go harder than I should, I don't have enough time to recover before the big day.

At this point, my race -- .5 mile swim, 14 mile bike and 3.1 mile run -- will be my first workout in a week and a half. We'll see how this goes!

Perk: Two of my longest-time friends and recent triathlete converts will be racing too. I gotta show up!

Are You A Content Strategist?

Since I've been writing and talking about content strategy with my colleagues, I've gotten a surprising amount of feedback.

One feature-writer friend said, "Hey, I think I'm a content strategist!" Another journalist friend directed her journalist friend to my blogs because she suspected she found an alternate name for his newspaper job. Another non-journalist friend had no idea what content strategy was but found it fascinating.

So do you think you're a content strategist? Or do you care enough to click to learn more? Check out the presentation posted today at The Content Wrangler, a blog I check into once in a while. The slideshow's called "Why Every CMO Needs to Know About Content Strategy," but I say you should check it out because of the easy-to-follow overview it gives of content strategy and because, at the very least, you're a consumer and should know how and why businesses deliver information to you, specifically online.

Goal: Resume Control of Dinner Ingredients

I've had a bad cold this week, which means I've pretty much been rendered useless, and by choice; I need to get better, and considering I'm not working full-time, I'll take the rest that I can get! Consequently, I'm not cooking dinners in the evening, a role I've voluntarily and happily assumed three or four days of the week.

When I cook these days, it means I'm using as little packaged food as possible. I'm whipping up recipes impromptu in the store, and our meals are balanced because I want them to be. We've been eating well! And considering Brian and I lost more weight after we'd already established a workout routine, I'm happy to credit the non-processed food goal with that result.

But now I'm sick, which means Brian's in charge of dinner. Brian can whip up mouthwatering three- or four-course meals that require techniques and kitchen tools with foreign names. Middle of the week? Particularly after a really stressful day (typical when you're a trader)? He specializes in a walk to Subway, or like last night, grilling a pre-made bison burger. Not bad at all, but when you're on an anti-pre-made-food streak, it can be hard to stomach. 

Don't get me wrong: I totally appreciate his taking care of me when I'm sick and grilling me a burger. I didn't mention he offered to pick up whatever I needed, and when I refused, still bought me miso soup (my favorite sick food these days) and other treats to make me feel better. And he does indeed make really wonderful food during the week too when the mood strikes.

I just wish it were easier to keep the non-processed trend going.

The funny thing is, it's not like he's totally unhealthy! When we first met, I was shocked that a guy could buy so much organic food or request to order out or make "something healthy" so often. I would eat healthy, but in a low-fat kinda way. I can't say that I always approved of the money he'd drop at Whole Foods on one of his big, special dinners because I didn't see the value.

Now I'm the one encouraging us to spend my unemployment check on organic and fresh foods and, for the most part, resist the indulgences I was always happy to succumb to (specifically Skinny Cow ice cream). I'd rather make the banana bread homemade than buy the fake stuff.

But you can't do that sick.

So here's hoping I get better soon! The next four days entail a second-round interview, celebrating Brian's birthday at Girl & The Goat, being a guest at a wedding and a triathlon. And hopefully, I can resume control of dinner ingredients. :)

Content Strategy to the Rescue: A Look at OnlytheBestinChicago.com

The client I'm supposed to meet with right now just sent me a photo of himself sitting in a hospital bed, thankfully with a can-you-believe-this? smirk on his face and not looking dead.

I have no clue what's going on with poor Walter and assume he's at least somewhat OK given he's texting; hopefully he wasn't on the way to see me when whatever happened happened. Meanwhile, I'm selfishly bummed because I was pretty jacked up and ready to talk about his site, whose content I'll be spiffing up (I think I'll survive the wait).

If you need a host, bartender, coat-checker or anything of the sort for a party, Walter's your guy. But you wouldn't necessarily know that off the bat if you visit his Web site, OnlyTheBestInChicago.com.

Click to enlarge

Take a look at what he's got so far; he has a great start. The design is clean and sophisticated, which is important for his upper-class and corporate clientele; his information is grouped into easy-to-navigate and clearly labeled pages (Home, About Us, Services and Contact Us); and the site doesn't have the type of typos or grammatical errors that complicate his message and are typical in similar small-business copy.

Content Strategy to the Rescue
Yet if I stumbled upon his site, I wouldn't know what his business could do for me unless I had the time to browse the pages -- and you can't assume I do. A strategic changes to the content, however, can help, and he wouldn't even have to change the structure of his site.

Take the home page, for example. The main thing I get from it is that he believes in customer service, is excited to have me visit the site and is dedicated to helping me.

It's all very noble, and those sentiments can definitely have a place on a home page. But what services is he selling? Yes, it says hospitality at the top of the page, but there are a lot of types of hospitality. And where are these services available? If I find his site and am in New Jersey, can this business help me?

Not only are these missing keywords making it difficult for the user to understand what his business can do for him or her, the search engines are equally confused. SEO will definitely be a part of the prescription.

The services page is much more on target in terms of content; a visitor can quickly understand what Walter's business offers, and those keywords help search engines too. That said, I'd like to see a conversational but short introduction to the page reiterating quality and customer service; summarizing the services; and telling me where he can help me -- all in about a sentence or two.

I like the bullet approach but would want to keep the construction parallel. Also, when I talk to him I'm going to see what services fall under the "and much more" category. I'm still wondering how large or small these events can be and who his partners, if any, are. There are other little tidbits to fill in, and all that info --the gist of it, that is -- we can use to clarify the home page too.

When I spoke with Walter initially he mentioned wanting to play up his 15 years of industry experience, which is a great idea for the About Us section. I like this page and think reiterating the team's commitment to quality is important here. Although, off the top of my head though I wonder what those hours are about -- customer service contact hours I assume, because I know his party services do not end at 5 p.m. :)

And finally, I'd like to work on the Contact Us page. I'd want to know as a site visitor what that form is for. Is it to schedule an appointment? Get more information? It says "to be added to a customer list," but at this point, there's no impetus to join any customer list and frankly, it turns me off as a visitor. I want info, not to join your mailing list if I barely know you.

I'm curious about the coding for his site and all other things SEO, and of course I want to know about his goals. Sure I can help him with the copy and strategy as it exists, but we can brainstorm other Web site features and social media reach that might be useful for his business too.

They're some of the many reasons I can't wait to finally get to talk with him -- after he's recovered of course. Content strategy is awesome, but we want him well first.

Related: The Gospel of Content Strategy: The Word's Spreading?

Italy Highlights, Group 3 of 3: Chianti Countryside and Florence

The last of three groups of photo highlights from my Italy trip is ready for your viewing pleasure. There are fewer photos this time around, this time covering Chianti countryside and a few parting shots of Florence.

That might be me riding the boar.

It's been a pleasure sharing. Enjoy this last round.

Links to the other albums:
Group 1 Highlights: Florence and Venice
Group 2 Highlights: Cinque Terre, Lucca, Siena and more of Florence

I Quit A Race. Am I Un-American?

This morning was the Bangs Lake Multisport Festival, where I registered to do an aquabike --  a 1.5k swim and a 38k bike. I call it Sara's God's Gift to Racing because I don't train on the run well.

As I wrote yesterday, I was totally unprepared for the race but decided to go anyway. I even thought deeply about it, writing that I do races because of motivating factors such as my mother's health problems.

Well, that's deep 'n' shit, but I found out the real reason this morning: they're fun. I could get my health kicks doing myriad physical activities, but you don't get up at 4 a.m. and hit the water before 7 without some enjoyment in the competition and accomplishment.

Lest you get the impression I skipped through the race with a smile on my face and determination this morning, the truth is I chose to only do the swim and ... not finish the race.

GASP! I feel so un-American. Who quits a race? I should be writing about how visions of my mother in pain inspired me to grit through my own mental block and how I knew that I'd feel shitty with a big ol' DNF (did not finish) next to my name in the race results. I should tell you that the pep talks talking to my fellow-athlete friends this week worked.

To a degree they did -- after all, I did show up after weeks of doubt.

I think the decision was technically made for me before I went to Italy, when I realized how far off my training goals were and knew I'd never catch up. When I chose to order three courses at dinner for two weeks and walk around sampling gelato three times a day in lieu of swimming, biking and running (and no, my bike tour through Tuscan countryside -- a clever way of sampling wine and olive oil -- didn't count), I knew I wasn't setting myself up for success this season.

When I woke up this morning, the first thing I thought was, I don't want to do this -- not in a dreadful way, but in a I-don't-care kinda way. The only dreadful thing I could think of was trudging through a race I knew I was capable of doing better.

So why did I even show up? And why did I confirm my registration this week -- already in full-on doubt mode -- after a snafu showed I hadn't yet been charged for the race?

It's because I'm an optimist and have it engrained in me that you should never, ever quit unless it's absolutely necessary. Broken appendages. Malaria. A death in the family the day before. I can't say all the athletes I hang around are hard-core, but they fall into the give-it-your-all group. Heck, even when I say I do races for fun, part of that fun is knowing I've done what I can to put in a good showing, even if only for myself.

People who don't quit are celebrated. People who do quit? I'm guessing they generally don't talk about it unless they have one of aforementioned good excuses.

I'm actually proud of decision because I know this one race doesn't make or break me, just like this off-season of sorts doesn't ruin my chances at future success. But am I afraid a potential client or employer or athletic compadre will read this and think of me as a quitter, someone who can't get over a mental hurdle? Absolutely, even if I have a thousand reasons to defend my decision and character ("I was exhibiting signs of malaria." J/k).

On the shuttle bus to the race start, a cheerful woman sat next to me and asked, "So, are you ready?"

"Actually, no!" I replied. "I haven't really trained, so we'll see how this goes."

"Me too!" she said. "But after all, you do it for fun, right?"

Absolutely. And that's why I will NOT be hopping on that bike, I thought.

I had fun giving it my all at the end of the swim because I knew I didn't have to conserve energy or breath for the bike. I had fun looking down at my watch to see I shaved two and a half minutes off my time. And I had fun packing up my transition area knowing I didn't have to do that hilly ride!

See?  A good time was had by all.

Triathlons: Not Just Because I Want the Finisher's Medal

(No time to fix formatting ... but you can still read text below).


I'm signed up for this year's Chicago Triathlon and tomorrow's Bangs Lake Aquabike, and given this training season has gone to shit thanks to pneumonia, a crazy work schedule and yes (by my choosing), a jaunt to Europe, it's been hard to talk myself into showing up to the starting line for either.


This week's Chicago Triathlon e-newsletter update though forced me to spell out my answer. Event organizers asked for triathletes' special reasons for doing the race. Here's what I sent in:


It's easy to say I do them because they're fun or that I hold a special place in my heart for the post-race food tent (who doesn't love PB&J on white bread?). 

But what keeps me signing up and gets me to the start line -- especially during a year like this one, when I'm less than prepared -- is the thought of not having the ability to do one. 

My mom's disabled, and she couldn't do one if she wanted. There are people who don't have the money to sink into the registration or the gear, and they couldn't do one. 

I figure as long as I have the means and the basic health, I should make the most of it. After all, one day I might not have the ability, and how would I feel knowing I didn't take advantage of the opportunity when I could? 

So, contrary to the reasons I thought I was going to tough it out -- the feeling you get from crossing the finish line, knowing that I at least tried, not wasting the $$$ registration fee, the free swag, the finisher's medal (true to my Gen Y generation!) -- triathlons do have a deeper meaning for me. 

***

As for tomorrow's race, I'm going. The temperature will be in the low 90s (even in the morning), and I haven't been cycling with the necessary intensity to put in a good fight. But, this same race last year was my toughest yet most successful ever (I came in 15th of 60 overall) despite equally high temps, wind and hills I didn't expect. 

I figure if I don't finish I'll know I tried -- and hopefully, they'll let me have a PB&J sandwich too.

Baby Steps to Better Cooking, Courtesy Italy

Since I experienced Italian food, I have a completely new appreciation for ingredients and simple cooking -- and it's not just because I upped my wine consumption.

I've always been a fan of basic dishes -- I'm the person who couldn't follow a recipe if my life depended on it and hates cooking anything with more than five ingredients -- but the country inspired me to get more creative on my own and not stick to the basics I've mastered. This means I walk into the store, pick out a protein based on what looks good, and compose from there. Admittedly I pretend I'm walking around Florence's mercado centrale. And it works!

Last night's example: The catfish filets looked good, which reminded me we wanted to pan-fry fish using Brian's grandmother's skillet. Easy -- throw in little olive oil and garlic and we're done. At the store I decided to pair the fish with roasted vegetables, which I seasoned on-the-spot with garlic powder, onion salt, coriander and mustard powder. For a starch, I took jasmine rice and mixed it with black pepper, coriander, cumin, a little cinnamon and salt.

OK, so maybe it's not Italian, but it's something.

Other dishes since I've been back: homemade pesto with Tuscan bread; homemade bruschetta with Tuscan bread; Tuscan bread with pecorino romano cheese, arugula and truffle oil (mimicking a sandwich I had in Florence); and ... yeah, other things with Tuscan-style bread, and then some.

Last night I used lemon fettucine from the Cinque Terre co-op and tossed it with shrimp, olive oil and garlic I had sauteed. And it was wonderful. I felt Italian! I patted myself on the back.

None of this is original (except for the roasted vegetable seasoning combo) but it's original for me. And I probably wouldn't have gotten to this point if I didn't have as much free time or as flexible of a schedule as I do now. I know I sure don't have enough patience or creative juices left in me at the end of a long work day to walk into a store and let the ingredients guide me.

Until work picks up or I join a company full time, I'm going to try to stick to it. Hopefully food-on-a-whim will become habit. We shall see.

Italy Highlights: Group 2 of 3, Cinque Terre, Lucca, Siena and yes, more Florence

Ciao, ciao

I present to you the second of three groups of Italy highlights. Enjoy!

(See the first group here.)