Whole-Roasted Butter, Lemon & Rosemary Chicken With Garlic & Root Vegetables {Gluten-Free, Paleo}

Comfort food.

It doesn’t always have to be Mac & Cheese, Biscuits or Doughnuts (even though, #OMGYumGetInMyFace). To me, comfort food often means making Kalua Pork in my crock pot, or simmering Red Wine Braised Short Ribs on the stove. It’s therapeutic food that cooks slowly and fills up your house with the most delightful aromas, in this case BUTTER. It’s the kind of food your grandmother would make. The type of meal that you’d want to eat after coming home from work on a rainy day. You know, it’s comfortable. Comfy. Like sweats, but edible. (I should have quit while I was ahead with the descriptions…Oh, well.) […]

Crispy Chicken Thighs With Orange & Cranberry Coconut Greens

Things that I love:

Handwritten letters
Jazz
Jazz hands
Cold steak for breakfast
Laughing so hard it hurts
Polar bears
Husband
Crispy Chicken Skin
Cast iron skillets
Aerobics videos from the 80s

Okay… so maybe that’s a very short and slightly random list, but you get the point. Crispy chicken skin is on that list. If they sold warm bits of crispy chicken skin in a bag like potato chips, I’d probably buy it. If I could eat said crispy bits while listening to jazz and petting a polar bear? Game over. I mean, really.  […]

One-Pan Crispy Chicken Legs & Brussels Sprouts {Gluten-Free & Paleo}

Brussels sprouts, oh how I love thee. It’s taken us a long time to get here, but I’m so glad we did.
When I was a kid, I was fairly certain Brussels sprouts were evil. These were clearly tiny cabbages made of nightmares, sent here to earth by aliens  in order to slowly poison us humans (I’ve always has a slight flare for the dramatic). It’s not that my parents were forcing me to eat them. Quite the contrary. We never ate sprouts at home, ever. I think my parents were also skeptical that these lil’ veggies weren’t indeed just the devil neatly disguised in a tiny cabbage suit. If my mom (the Lima Bean Pusher) was skeptical of a vegetable, I was pretty sure it must be  heinous. The only time I had fully experienced the Brussels sprout was through a friend. I was staying the night at friends house, and her mother insisted I eat my vegetables before I left the table. I thought, sure. Fine. I love veggies. This should be no big deal. And, then it happened. A slotted spoon emerged from a pot of lightly stained green liquid. A mushy pile of lifeless sprouts made a sad little mountain on my plate. These sprouts were boiled to disaster. They were bitter and mushy. I had entered into my own nightmare, and the only way out was with hasty large bites and a lot of water. Awful.  […]