That Time of Year

So before April decided to go all late February/early March on me (LAME, by the way, April), spring--real, live, authentic spring--was spreading its magic all over Bryn Mawr. And I mean magic in the purest sense of the word--this is a magic that gives me renewed faith in the world after winter, that most terrible of all seasons (sorry for all of you winter fans out there...we (winter and I) just don't get along). But last week there were cherry tree blossoms! And daffodils! And GREENERY! And SUNSHINE! In spite of this sudden cold snap, the cherry trees and daffodils are still blooming, bless 'em, but they're a lot less fun to ogle when you're in a heavy winter jacket and boots as opposed to a sun-dress and flip-flops.

Not that I actually wore a sun-dress last week, since, in addition to magic and happiness and sunshine and rainbows, spring also means: time to show more skin. AND GOOD GOD I am not ready for that. Sunshine? Yes. Flowers? Yes. The blessed end of this semester? Holy mother of pearl, YES. But shorts and short sleeves and tank-tops and anything that might possibly show a hint of my stomach? NO, no, one thousand times NO.

I'm at a perfectly normal weight, and I'm not even that out of shape...but that doesn't change the fact that when I put on a tight(ish) short sleeved shirt last week, I had a come to Buddha moment about my oblique muscles. And the fact that they are currently non-existent. My sole form of exercise since January has been running, which does great things for my heart and lungs and sanity, but ALAS promises of longevity and a healthy heart and a functioning brain do NOTHING for my vanity. And yes. I really am that vain. Additionally, I've eaten enough chocolate chips this winter to supply a small country. A small country that survives solely on chocolate chip cookies, and maybe uses them to build their homes. So yea. That might also have something to do with le belly.

Chocolate chips aside, I have had a delightful time hibernating in my apartment with red wine in hand, cooking thick stews, heavy pasta dishes, and dense breads. Really. It's been tons of fun. I mean really...Carbohydrates. What a marvelous invention. But now my windows are open (or, were open, before April's evil twin arrived), my heaviest belly-hiding sweaters are tucked back into storage, and sun-dresses and light skirts are splashing my closet with fresh bursts of color. I want to stretch my legs, square my shoulders, and wriggle right out of winter.

So for me, that means not only switching up my exercise routine by foregoing some runs to do Pilates and Yoga (which, for the record, are PAINFUL if you have done nary a crunch since Christmas), but also being more careful than usual about what I eat. I'm already pretty careful about what I eat, because I am Mary Frances, and I am anal. Also because I'm a WASP-y, overeducated twenty-something, and that seems to come with the territory (right?).

So over the weekend, I made tabbouleh to take for my lunches this week (to replace my typical soy-nut butter sandwiches). And if any of you are feeling like you need something fresh and bright to reenergize your senses and help your body shake off that last bit of winter lethargy, go make this immediately. And maybe I'm the last person in the world to realize that WOW tabbouleh is kind of ridiculously easy to make, in which case 1) Sorry for being repetitive, and 2) Typical.

This recipe is from my go-to cookbook, Ellie Krieger's The Food You Crave, and I think it's delicious, though I'd add more mint next time. I've also been adding a squirt of lemon juice to mine every morning, just to brighten it up. And I know it's not the season for tomatoes or cucumbers, but whatever, I cheated. AND SO SHOULD YOU! (Just kidding...you can wait until summer produce season to make this....if you must...) Enjoy!

1 cup bulgur wheat

1.5 cups boiling water

2 medium ripe tomatoes, seeded and diced (about 2 cups)

1 medium English cucumber, peeled, seeded, and diced (about 2 cups)

1/2 cup chopped red onion

2 cups finely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley

1/3 cup finely chopped fresh mint

3 tablespoons olive oil

1/4 cup fresh lemon juice

1 teaspoon finely grated lemon zest

1 teaspoon ground cumin

salt and pepper to taste

Place the bulgur in a large heatproof bowl. Pour the boiling water over it, stir, and cover tightly with plastic wrap. Let it sit for about 15 minutes, until the water is absorbed and the bulgur is tender. Drain any excess water from the bulgur (I did a pretty lame job at draining the bulgur, and mine turned out fine). Stir in the tomatoes, cucumber, onion, parsley, and mint.

In a small bowl, whisk together the oil, lemon juice and zest, cumin, salt, and pepper. Pour the dressing over the bulgur mixture and toss well to combine. Cover and place in the refrigerator for 1 hour or up to a day (or, if you're Mary Frances, up to six days) stored in an airtight container. Serve chilled.