The weekend said “Let there be candy”, and there was candy. This was one of my better Halloween years as far as not gorging myself with peanut butter cups. However, I did go kind of mental on a bag of these Dark Chocolate Honey Mints(Only three benign ingredients–they are a revelation)!
I’m totally not bragging or saying that I’m better than you for not eating Snickers bars trough-style out of a pumpkin-shaped vat. In fact, I am currently doing an autoimmune protocol to heal my gut… so, I’m probably worse than you. Also, there was that time that I ate like two pieces of this awesomefunfetti cake for breakfast. I understand what it feels like to have a stomach full of sugar and regret.
This morning my body was like “Let there be smoothies”. Okay, body. I get it. I’ll schlep my blender onto my counter top and make some green magic. Just you watch. I’ll put in a bunch of green things and liquefy them. It’s gonna feel real good. It might even give us an energy boost. I can always use one of those. I mean, Mondays are hard. Continue reading →
Unfortunately, I will not be serving up any kind of witch fingers with almond fingernails, or a jack’o’lantern that is vomiting guacamole. Today there will be no graham cracker cookies that have been turned into bloody band-aids (yes, this is a real thing I saw on Pinterest), and nothing that feels like an eyeball in your mouth. Call me the Grinch of Halloween, or simply call me someone who doesn’t like to eat things that resemble blood, vomit or eyeballs. It’s a personal preference. I think my childhood self is disappointed in this whole paragraph. I used to be really big on the whole “peeled grapes feel like eyeballs in the dark” thing. I guess I’ve gone soft.
My husband just informed me that the above paragraph makes me sound really grumpy. Apparently he’s on team guacamole vomit. Oh, well. At least we both agree that leftover peanut-butter cups need to be eaten swiftly, blamelessly, competition style– straight from the trick or treat bowl. Marriage is all about compromise. We do what we can. Continue reading →
My crock-pot has been seeing a lot of action this fall. We’ve made a WHOLE chicken smothered with hard cider gravy. We’ve made these Soy & Ginger Ribs. I showed you how to use your crock-pot to make your very own chicken broth from scratch. Heck, we’ve evencurry-ed in a hurrybefore. Needless to say, I consider this appliance my friend. Except for that one time that it overcooked a pot roast to the point of inedibility. That night it wasn’t my friend. But, like… every other time. We’re friendly. Like, if it was a person, we’d probably have matching outfits and stay up late braiding each other’s hair. Something like that. Continue reading →
Ever watched a film that gave you an insatiable need to marinate pork? No? Well, then perchance you’ve never seen Chef.
I might have watched this movie three times in one weekend, but I can’t say for sure. What I can say for sure, is that this film was GRADE A food porn. It felt like a breath of fresh air–a bacon-scented wind blowing against my food-loving-face. A visual symphony, singing me a melody of “marinate something—probably a pig”. So, that I did. We got piggy with it. Continue reading →
So, I haven’t eaten eggs, tomatoes, peppers, white potatoes, eggplant, grains, dairy or nuts in about twelve days.
I’m doing a bit of an elimination diet in order to detect some suspected food allergies. I’m not going to lie to you, it could be easier. In the past twelve days I’ve realized I feel slightly paralyzed without eggs and I put tomatoes in nearly everything. But, in the hopes of not freaking out and attempting to sell my kidney on the black market for a plate of runny-yolked gold, I’ve been trying my best to make satiating meals that aren’t lacking in flavor. However, I’d like to reiterate that taking away things like tomatoes and chili powder and paprika make me feel like I’m cooking with a couple of thoselobster claw oven mittson. A little clumsy. A little frustrated. A little confused as to why I have lobster claws instead of hands. I’m sure there were like a zillion better, more coherent similes that I could have used right there. But, of course, I went oven mitts. Oy. Continue reading →