RECIPE: Protein Pancakes À La Sian

Exposure to American culture as a young child can have a very powerful influence on a person. In particular: American cuisine. As a child growing up in Ireland, it's little wonder that towering, diner-esque sundaes (complete with cherry on top), bowls brimming with the fluoro-coloured marshmallow and toasted-oat combo of Lucky Charms - I was still too young to acknowledge the irritating Irish stereotype - and the like, enticed me more than the standard shpuds I was reared on. But it was always the typical, fluffy-as-clouds American pancakes that charmed me most of all.

The source of envy...

Irish pancakes are just not like that. Is it because of our European identity that the Irish are mad for the crêpes, as opposed to their fluffier counterparts? Of course, you could buy packaged versions but they were disappointing to say the least; the taste and texture not nearly as magical as you'd expect. I'd watch that scene in Matilda, relentlessly, where, despite being three years old, she whips up an immaculate batch of pancakes. Needless to say I'd be sickened with the envy - or was it just hunger?

My first excursion to America as a 5 year old was like receiving a golden ticket to Wonka's chocolate factory. My entire time there was spent with eyes, bulging like saucers; it was an entirely different world to the one that I knew. And that was when I met iHop and had my first, and only, legit American pancakes. I was besotted.

Now, my health snobbery would make me turn my nose up at the prospect of ever entering an iHop, let alone devouring a bowl of Lucky Charms, as my 5-year-old self would have liked. But that doesn't stop the longing. Isn't that just the way with things? If it looks good, or lures you in with how good it looks - it couldn't possibly be healthy. But life's too short to deprive yourself, as I've grown to learn. There's an alternative to everything.

Now, my health snobbery would make me turn my nose up at the prospect of ever entering an iHop, let alone devouring a bowl of Lucky Charms, as my 5-year-old self would have liked. But that doesn't stop the longing. Isn't that just the way with things? If it looks good, or lures you in with how good it looks - it couldn't possibly be healthy. But life's too short to deprive yourself, as I've grown to learn. There's an alternative to everything.

Blogilates Banana Pancakes

It all started with the über-easy banana pancakes by Casey Ho, of Blogilates; it's only one banana and two eggs, mashed together, and poured into a pan. They did for a while, but I needed something more substantial. They resembled the crêpe, that I abhor so much. They were good, but not right.  These are better suited before a run in the morning, but would leave your stomach growling ferociously after a trip to the gym.

So, after much experimentation,  and trial and (plenty of) error, I finally devised the perfect recipe, if I may be so bold. There's a longer ingredient list for these, but they are most definitely worth that extra bit of prep. 

Behold, my recipe for chocolate protein pancakes:

INGREDIENTS:

• 1/2 cup of multi seed oats.
• 1 scoop of chocolate whey - I use Optimum Nutrition Gold Standard whey.
• 1 tbsp of organic coconut flour.
• 1/2 tsp baking powder.
• 1 tsp cinnamon.
• 2 egg whites.
• 1 tbsp of organic low fat natural yoghurt.
• A drop of organic vanilla extract.
• 1/4 cup of almond milk.

DIRECTIONS:

• Combine dry and wet ingredients into a bowl; mix thoroughly.
• Scoop 1-2 tbsps onto non-stick frying pan for 2-3 minutes on med-low heat.
• Flip, and cook for additional 1 minute.

They should turn out decadently fluffy and, of course, delicious without the guilt. They're fine if left in the fridge overnight, too. Put some cling film over the bowl with the "batter" and put in the fridge. If the mixture is slightly thick (it usually will be), add a little bit of water or almond milk to soften it up.

Dat fluffiness

-

Sian

Review: Quest Bars

I'm going to be honest: I'm very circumspect when it comes to "healthy bars". The label "healthy" is strewn across items that, in fact, are as criminally calorific as something deep-fried or from McDonalds. Prime example: caesar salad. People see the word "salad" and pounce on it, purely because of that word. Unfortunately, what they don't realize is the repercussions of the croutons, that dressing, and all the other little frills and thrills that are hidden amongst the leaves.
Now, I'm not saying you should convert to Calorie Nazism (please don't - it's torture), but rather, be wary of what you're eating and, if possible, make healthier substitutions.

The misconception about caesar salads and items generally perceived to be "healthy" has left me petrified about the idea of eating healthy bars, such as Nakd, Clif, and, the most raved-about, Quest. How healthy can a bar be if it's loaded with nasty little chemicals, sweeteners, and words that I can't even pronounce? How can eating something that emulates the taste of an apple pie possibly help fuel me for exercise and, more importantly, contain protein?
These questions are vital (for me, anyway) before trying anything alien.

So, after months and months of researching, reading reviews, and salivating at the mouth at the mere though of one passing my lips, I finally gave Quest the green light. Let's break it down, shall we?

Quest Nutrition prides itself on being the only protein bar on the market with 20g of "high quality, bioavailable proteins", low non-fiber carbs (eg. sugars), uses natural ingredients (one ingredient that you may never have heard of is isomalto-Oligosaccharides, which are "100% natural, prebiotic fibres derived from plant sources") and are gluten-free, for all you Coeliacs out there.

They range from between 160-210 calories, which is very agreeable.

They are available in 14 flavours:

• Chocolate Brownie 
• Vanilla Almond Crunch
• Peanut Butter Supreme
• Apple Pie
• Mixed Berry Bliss
• PB & J
• Banana Nut Muffin
• Chocolate Peanut Butter
• Cinnamon Roll
• Coconut Cashew
• Strawberry Cheesecake
• Lemon Cream Pie
• Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough
• Peanut Butter Cups (yes, healthy version of Reese's)

Each box comes with 12 bars in total. I bought mine in UN Sports Nutrition (the only place I can find in Dublin that stocks them), half Coconut Cashew and half Vanilla Almond Crunch. I defy you to find a bar that tastes so sinful, yet with such amazing nutritional value. I had to keep checking the wrapper to ensure that I wasn't making a mortal mistake, and ruining my hard work. 

They are quite tough in texture, the VAC more so; I'd recommend heating them up in the microwave for a couple of seconds to soften them, and ensure you don't loose a tooth. That is, in my humble opinion, the sole flaw of the taste of Quest bars. They satisfy, but don't satiate - the perfect snack for before or after a workout. There's nothing worse than feeling sluggish before a trip to the gym; you want to feel energised but without the uncomfortable feeling of being full. 

The only negative aspect of Quest bars is their price: it is a teensy bit on the expensive side. A box of 12 costs €24.99. But then again, the price is justifiable, as you are paying for quality. Search high and low (go on, I implore you), and you will not find a bar of this standard.

Overall, I believe this bars are well worth the investment, particularly for those of you who are very active. The perfect snack for in between workouts.

Visit Quest's website if you have any other qualms/queries, or if I've left anything out.

-

Sian

Salutations

How do you compose an introductory blog post? For someone as viciously socially inept as myself, it should be a relief that I'm not presenting myself and my innermost thoughts to a group of people in real life. However, this is not the case.
It's almost as daunting trying to inaugurate an audience of people I don't know to something I can't predict. I know where I want to steer this vehicle, but am uncertain of the direction it will take, how it will look in a few months time (because believe me, that God-awful layout will be worked on), and the reception it will receive. All will determine this blog's fate.

Oh, well done, Sian, starting this off on a sombre tone - how typically miserable of you. And yes, while we're making awkward acquaintances with each other (is "How do you do?" accompanied by a dainty hand shake too formal?), it may be useful to inform you that I often stage conversations between myself and myself in my head. This manages to manifest itself into my writing, too.

So, aside from inevitable madness, what is it you can expect? This blog, without regurgitating my life's story so far, shall be a mere platform to document my escape from the clutches of Anorexia, my quest for fitness, happiness and health, whilst indulging in my greatest passion - writing. There's only so much you can write on an Instagram caption, but restriction is not the option for me anymore; writing is like a wild animal - keeping it in captivity extinguishes it. It needs to be allowed room to soar, develop and prosper.

Not a day goes by, since I've embarked on this journey, that I don't acknowledge the positive contrast in my life since abandoning the dictatorial rule of an eating disorder. With much confidence, I can say that it is the best decision I have ever made in my life. It's wonderful to be able to feel emotion, as opposed to being held prisoner behind a lens of bleak, grey despair; to be able to wake up each morning, excited to be part of the earth and to have life coursing through your veins. I only hope that I can use my experiences to prove to those who suffer, to an ineffable degree, that life without an eating disorder is exactly what being oppressed by one is not - LIFE.

And once again, I thank my lucky stars that I'm not stood vis-à-vis with some stranger, introducing myself and all of this. I can only think of the amount of stutters and "Em"s that would have punctuated my speech. I'm no public speaker, and I'm not exactly well-supplied in the confidence department; writing is my element, and I hope that I have managed to make you feel welcome, in a distinctively awkward way that only I can.
-
Sian.