Check out my lovely mug today on Faces of Beauty here.

Faces of Beauty is a great blog that was established as a celebration of the unique beauty of each an every person. You should all check it out and submit your own picture! I think it fits very well with my own Bikini Confidence Series about strengthening your relationship with yourself.

Do you know that you are beautiful just the way you are?

I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t function well in traffic congestion. Actually that’s an understatement. I find myself swearing uncontrollably at the top of my lungs like I have Tourette’s, telling every lousy driver (that’s every driver other than myself, of course) where to go and how to get there. I may insult their mothers too. Luckily, Windsor roads are usually free of traffic jams. I can’t imagine how people drive in places like Chicago or Los Angeles where traffic jams are standard; I’d turn into a monster.

In any case, I finally made it to the gym and the parking lot was emptier than it is late on Friday night (yes I go to the gym on Friday nights. I grant you permission to judge me). Perfect! I thought I love when the gym is quiet like this. …but it was too quiet. Eerily quiet.

I went inside and all the lights were out. Shit. Oh well, I can probably still weightlift right? I mean, it is bright enough in there with all the windows.

The girl at the front desk said to me Yeah, we’re closed. We don’t have any power.

I thought about saying to her: I have plenty of power right here while pointing at my flexed biceps. But I held back.

I left disappointed. I hate to miss a workout.

On the way home I hit 2 more blacked out traffic lights.

What a day.

At least the power came on in my house just in time for me to make dinner. Garden peppers stuffed with lemon rice.

(source)

The more I exercise, the more I realize that exercise won’t make me skinnier.

It’s true.

I’ve been weightlifting, and running consistently for 6 years (and going yoga even longer). Sometimes I push myself hard to make improvements and then sometimes I take time off from working out all together. My fitness levels may fluctuate with my workout patterns, but my weight never does.

When I train for endurance then my running improves. When I train for strength then my weightlifting improves.

(source)

But I can’t train for slim in the gym. Slim training starts in the kitchen.

Aside from a 20lb weight loss after initially joining the gym, now my weight doesn’t fluctuate by much at all. When it does, it’s entirely based on my eating patterns. If I eat crappy foods I feel crappy and look crappy. I can’t exercise it away.

I truly believe that you can’t exercise away a bad diet.

So, why bother right?

Well, I do it because I love it. It keeps me challenging myself. I get more excited about improvements in my running speed or my bench press than I do about improvements on the bathroom scale.

It’s a hobby that keeps me strong and healthy. Without exercise my energy levels wouldn’t be as high as they are, my resting heart rate wouldn’t be under 50bpm, and I wouldn’t be able to squat 200lbs.

I’m proud of my level of fitness regardless of my level of slimness.

P.S.  If you liked my Rosemary Sea Salt Bikini Bar Recipe guest posted on the Making Love in the Kitchen blog, then vote for my recipe at this link as your favourite summer recipe!

But instead you wind up eating French toast with peach jam. . .

. . .because your pancake dreams made you forget about the cinnamon raisin bread that you baked the night before for the BBA Challenge.

Sometimes you wake up on a Saturday morning and want to take off and start the day.

But then you end up crawling back to your room for a cozy breakfast in bed. . .

. . . and conserve your energy for 4 hours of rooftop yoga an pilates with your sister.

Sometimes you intend to spend a Sunday afternoon cleaning the house.

But then you end up at the beach enjoying the last of summer with your one and only. . .

. . . sharing even more homemade BBA Challenge bread (Potato Rosemary buns)

Sometimes you intend to just have an okay weekend.

But then it turns out to be fantastic.

]]> http://gamereviewwiki.com/bikinibirthday/2010/08/30/bread-weekend/feed/ 9 http://gamereviewwiki.com/bikinibirthday/2010/08/27/sprouted-quinoa-bread/ http://gamereviewwiki.com/bikinibirthday/2010/08/27/sprouted-quinoa-bread/#comments Fri, 27 Aug 2010 12:24:15 +0000 Samantha Angela http://gamereviewwiki.com/bikinibirthday/?p=1777 read on ..]]> I bake bread. A lot.

I probably bake one loaf a week, sometimes two. Bread can be quite complicated to perfect, but what I love about baking it is that even if I don’t get it just right, even if there is something I think I can improve on, my bread is always a hit. Always. Because, really, who doesn’t like homemade bread?

That’s what I thought.

I promise to show you all more pictures of the bread that I bake, because it is the ultimate in food porn. In the meantime, check out these recipes that I’ve already posted

• Sourdough Pretzels
• Sprouted Grain Hearth Bread
• Amish Friendship Hoagies
• Spiced Zucchini Quick Bread

and some other breads that I just photographed: Greek Celebration Bread, Anadama Bread, Ciabatta, and Sourdough.

And head over to Kenzie’s blog, A Healthy Purpose, to see my guest post recipe for deliciously protein-rich sprouted quinoa bread.

Hello to all Healthy Purpose readers! I’m Samantha and I blog over at Bikini Birthday. I’d like to thank Kenzie for letting me guest post about something that I can’t live without.

Bread. The textures of the crust and crumb, the variety of flavours, the delicious aroma, bread can be as sophisticated as fine wines when it comes to its complexity of flavours.

Read more…

There are lots of things I could have made with my zucchini.

I could have made a raw zucchini and carrot slaw with cashew dressing like I did when I was cleansing.

I could have made zucchini latkes like these ones that I saw on Smitten Kitchen:

Between the basket I bought at the farmer’s market and a bag full that my dad brought me on the weekend, I have more peaches than I could possibly eat.

No, that’s a lie. They’re sitting on my kitchen counter, tempting me with their fragrance. It’s almost too tempting. I know I could eat them all in one sitting, but to avoid a peach belly ache I struggle to refrain. I wish I could save the peaches for a rainy winter day. Oh wait, I CAN.

Let’s Jam.

This recipe for spiced peach jam is phenomenal

Bread is for suckers. I could eat this shit with a spoon. In fact, that’s how I prefer it (although Christina has other ideas: a crostata or a frangipane tart, perhaps? )

Spiced Peach Jam (adapted from Form V Artisan to make enough for the winter)

Sterilize Your Jars for Canning

Wash the jars and lids in hot, soapy water.

Place five 250mL canning jars in a boiling water canner (or large pot). Add enough water so that the jars are submerged 1/2″ deep. Boil for 10 minutes.

Remove the jars and reserve the water in the canner for processing the filled jars.

Ingredients

• 3lb whole fresh peaches, cut into 1/2″ chunks
• 18 oz granulated sugar
• 1/2 tsp cinnamon
• 1/2 tsp ground cardamom
• 1/4 tsp cloves
• 1/4 c. + 1 tsp fresh lemon juice

Directions

In a large saucepan stir together peaches and sugar. Let stand for 1 hour, stirring frequently, until sugar is mostly dissolved in the juices.

Add spices. Bring to a boil over medium heat and continue to boil for 10 minutes.

Add lemon juice and break down peaches with a potato masher. Cook another 10 minutes, stirring frequently, until the mixture reaches 220*F on a thermometer.

Canning

Add the jam to your sterilized canning jars while it’s still hot (if you’re not canning, then let the jam cool completely before refrigerating in glass jars or airtight containers).

Wipe the rims and the outside of the jars with a wet paper towel. Tighten the lids onto the tops of the jars.

Place the jars in boiling water in the canner for 5 minutes. Let cool on a rack or dish towel.

After the jars have cooled, remove the screw bands and test the seal by press the middle of the lid. If the lid springs up when you release your finger, the lid is unsealed. (Unsealed jars must be kept in the refrigerator and consumed within 2-3 weeks)

Properly sealed jars can be kept in a cool, dry place for up to a year and will last 2-3 weeks in the fridge once opened.

The next guest blogger is my favourite writer on the web right now, so you can imagine I was pretty elated when she agreed to do a guest post for the Bikini Confidence Series. (Seriously, I jump on her blog immediately every time new content pops up on my reader.) Kate blogs at Eat the Damn Cake where she evaluates the relationship between women and their appearance, remarks something that she loves about herself with her Un-roasts, and collects photos of women eating cake (like mine) in her cake gallery. Her bikini story reflects on how she reverted from insecurity about her body back to the positive self-image she held as a young girl.

A Brief History of My Relationship With Bikinis:

Samantha’s relationship with bikinis is inspiring. They should make a movie about her journey. And, as a result, more women should go out and buy the bikinis they feel like they shouldn’t wear.

The whole idea that only some people “can” wear something, and everyone else is not allowed to is really obnoxious. It’s pretty clear that a lot of clothing is designed for a single body type (you know the one. Tall, graceful, malnourished, possibly on the brink of death. Or at least tall and slender). And it’s also pretty clear that bodies look all different. And lastly, I think we can all agree that pretty much everyone is wearing skinny jeans anyway. So we’re breaking the rules constantly. Except for me, because I still can’t figure out how to get the jeans past my ankles. They’re way too skinny.

But bikinis, on the other hand, seemed at first to be made for my body. I got my first one when I was ten or so. It was black, and I thought it was really sexy. Until I saw my best friend Emily’s bikini, which was plaid, and even smaller. It looked much more grownup. We traded, in what I thought was the coup of the century. I cackled evilly to myself, hid the bikini in the bottom drawer of my dresser, and never wore it. It was too scandalous. I knew my mother wouldn’t approve. She might take it away. And the bikini was too precious to risk losing.

By the time I was fourteen, I was wearing bikinis, rather than hiding them, and I was sure every boy who saw me in one fell immediately in love. Or lust. Either one was fine. I had no breasts to speak of, and a long torso, and one-pieces didn’t really fit right, but bikinis made me feel free.

I looked forward to summer. Thinking back on it, it wasn’t that I’d determined that, objectively, I had the ideal body for a bikini, it was that I was just proud of my body, and a bikini showed much more of what I was proud of than regular clothes. There wasn’t anything about my body in particular that was exceptional—I just liked it a lot. And I liked knowing that I liked it, and knowing that I looked comfortable.

Because I was an unschooler, and didn’t spend a lot of time in a crowd of my peers, I didn’t have a lot of other female bodies my age to compare myself to, and I wasn’t exposed to the judgment of a bunch of boys. I didn’t know where I ranked, and it didn’t occur to me that I had to rank at all.

Now that attitude seems almost impossible to have maintained, and I’m a little shocked by my past self, for being both so unaware and so fantastically healthy.

During college, I realized that in order to wear a bikini, one had to be more than just thin and confident. There were a certain kind of breasts that were involved in the look. A certain kind of butt. A certain silhouette (mastered by that girl who posed for all the mud flaps). Legs with specific measurements. The list went on and on. At the beach, I was tugging self-consciously at the wet cloth, trying to cover more of myself. I grabbed a towel.

I bought shorts for the bottom half, and a padded top. I tried to keep my clothes on for as long as possible. My body wasn’t something to be shown off anymore. The only bodies for showing off were the perfect ones. My body needed a lot of work. It needed to be carefully defended and protected. If it was set free it might run around humiliating me.

And it only got worse. I gained weight. My stomach stuck out for the first time.

This past March my fiancé and I went on a vacation that included a beach. I had to dig up an old bikini for the occasion. I hadn’t worn it in ages. It was black. And tiny. And unpadded. It was a hand-me-down from a friend whose breasts it was unable to contain. I was not looking forward to wearing it. I was thinking about what I might wrap around myself, over the bikini.

And then there I was, in the ocean, naked except for a few shreds of black cloth, in all my awkwardness and imperfection. We were jumping over waves. It was a little like being ten again. And the boy beside me, obviously he had fallen madly in love (and lust) with me.

When we got out I didn’t pull the towel over myself right away. Instead, we went for a walk. I couldn’t undo the years of lessons I’d learned so well about the many ways in which I don’t look gorgeous, but I could begin to remember a different way of experiencing myself. I felt a familiar hint of pride at having this body, not because of any one thing about it, but because it was mine, and I liked myself. I liked the way I fit together. And it seemed a little absurd that I had ever begun to compare myself to every other woman. As though I could ever be anyone but myself! As though anyone could ever wear a bikini quite like me.

*  *  *  *

Un-roast: Today I love my long torso. It’s just asking for a bikini.

• Heather (HEAB)
• Nicole (Prevention, RD)
• Meghan Telpner (Making Love in the Kitchen)
• Kenzie (A Healthy Purpose)
• Jasmine (Eat, Move, Write)
• Gabriela (Une Vie Saine)
• Caitlin (Healthy Tipping Point)
• Super G (Me2Writes)

And, of course, my own Bikini Birthday post!

See this picture of me eating cake here over at Kate’s blog Eat the Damn Cake. Send over a picture of yourself eating cake and she’ll post it in her cake gallery. I really wanted to send in a picture of me eating my 25th birthday cake. Remember this beauty that my sister made for me?

The coconut birthday cake that was the best cake I’ve ever eaten in my life. And I’ve eaten A LOT of cake in my day, so that’s saying something.

Unfortunately (yet pleasurably) I devoured the whole thing before I remembered to take a picture for the cake gallery. When I woke up the morning after the beach party I jumped out of bed and into my gym clothes with the best intentions of an AM workout. When I opened the fridge to grab my water bottle, there was leftover cake staring me in the face. So I sat in the kitchen, in my gym clothes, eating birthday cake for breakfast. What a picture that would have made, eh?

Oh well, instead I sent in this beauty from my cousin’s first birthday:

Once you’ve thoroughly check out Kate’s blog, find me over a No More Dirty Looks sporting a No ‘Poo Do (I’m #59).

This was part of their No More Dirty Looks Summer Hair Challenge which involved sending in a picture of your natural hair with the following rules: shower, use only natural shampoo and conditioner (I used none), comb it, and let it dry.

The reason for the challenge, according to their website:  We all wage war with our hair on a semiregular basis, and we want to see what happens when we switch to nontoxic, nonstripping products, and then leave our manes alone. We already did the challenge—those are our pics up top—and we want you all with us. One day! Please?

Finally, check out my recipe for Rosemary Sea Salt Bikini Bars on Meghan Telpner’s blog, Making Love in the Kitchen. I posted this recipe here on Bikini Birthday and now it’s making it’s way across the blog world

If you’re not an avid reader of Meghan’s blog, you should be. You probably recall Meghan from her guest post here in the Bikini Confidence series. I’m so happy to have had the opportunity to guest post at Making Love in the Kitchen!

This picture is not of the tomatoes that I’ve been eating. Those actually came straight from Matt’s cousin’s garden. Those I actually devoured with sea salt faster than you can say heirloom.  I might have eaten 10 tomatoes in 3 days. . . but who’s counting?

The tomatoes in that picture were crying out to be photographed on Saturday morning at the Downtown Windsor Farmer’s Market. The market has been open since June but it’s the first time that I made it there this season (better late than never right?).

I had only one thing in mind when I headed there. Peaches. Why? Jam.

Sweet, delicious Ontario peaches.

I’ve been dying to make jam for a few weeks now, but when I saw a recipe for Spiced Peach Jam on Christina’s blog, my fate was sealed. Saturday afternoon I was confined to the kitchen with my morning market purchase for some jamming and some canning (but more on that later this week).

Of course, peaches weren’t the only thing I purchased. With so much fresh produce around I could hardly refrain from giving up my wallet to each vendor. I also bought some eggplant, potatoes, hot peppers, and yellow plums.

Another of my favourite Essex County summer crops is blueberries. A couple of weekends ago, my sister and I went  Klassen Blueberries in Colchester to pick our own. Every year I look forward to heading out to Colchester to sit around a blueberry bush and gossip like a teenager while picking a big bucket of delicious bloobs. I usually pick about 5lb of them and this year I actually managed to freeze some before I inhaled them all from the giant bowl I set out on my kitchen countertop.