We’ve got a guest in the house today! It’s my lovely friend Sherrie from With Food + Love –blogger and health coach extraordinaire. She’s always doing things with veggies that make my heart go pitter-pat, so I invited her over here to hang out with us and share some of her delectable veggie love! Yay!
Hey guys – I’m Sherrie from With Food + Love and when Gina was all – “Heyyy you wanna come hang out and write a guest post for me?” I was all – “Yeah, totes def, that sounds amazing” and so there you have it. Here I am, honored and super pumped to be sharing my Roasted Carrots + Broccoli with Crispy Quinoa, Goat Cheese + Lemony Oregano Dressing, whoa that’s a mouthful, ha literally. I do have to say, this is one of the yummiest things I’ve made in a long time. It’s bursting with flavor on every level, so let’s get into it. Continue reading →
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. Continue reading →
Pump up those beets, pump them UP… while your feet are stompin’, and the beets are pumpin’. Look at here the crowd is jumpin’!!
It’s normal to change Technotronic lyrics to match your green juice recipes, right? Cool. I thought so. Can we remake this video too? Maybe the flashy background could be a bunch of psychedelic beets and we could wear hammer pants that are covered in veggies? Let’s keep all of their dance moves though. That choreography is solid. Bless the 90’s. They were good.
Did I lose some of you? Probably. Just watch the video. It will get your Wednesday movin’. Dare I say it might even pump it up? I said it. Can’t take it back now.
So, this morning I realized out of all of the juicing we have done here, we have never juiced beets together. What?! How is this possible? I love beet juice. We’ve made juice that tasted like a mojito. We’ve definitely juiced carrots. We’ve even juiced a watermelon. We’ve taken beets and blended them into one of the best smoothies of my life. Seriously, that smoothie is something special. I’ve even taken beets and made chocolate cake out of them. Whoa. Yet, I haven’t shared with you my go to beet juice recipe. This just seems wrong. Let’s fist pump and right this wrong together. I’ve got that Technotronic song in my brain so hard that my top half is typing these words to you, but my bottom half is dancing. Pump it up!! Can’t control myself.
This is a big deal. I live in California. It’s like a state requirement. At any moment the California police are probably going to walk into my house and take me away. I’ll be forced to explain to them that it’s not my fault that I am wearing shoes and socks in 90 degree heat. I will sell out the dog and explain that she has officially chewed up every pair of (expensive) flip flops that I own. They will arrest both of us. We will end up in the same Women’s Correctional Facility. Emma will make my life hell and I will be labeled a “snitch” for ratting her out. She will chew up all of my bath slippers and I will be forced to shower without flip flops. I hear that’s a no go in prison. I’ve clearly been watching too much Orange is the New Black. Like, whoa. Prison tangent. Normal for a Tuesday.
My point is (if there is one), it totally sucks to wake up on a Monday morning and discover that both your Reef sandals and your husbands Rainbow sandals have been reduced to leathery spit balls. At the rate we are going, I will be shoeless by August. I will be relegated to digging in my closet to find the one pair of forgotten shoes that I can strap onto my feet. Is it going to be my ugg-style cat boots (highly misguided fashion choice) or will it be the slightly furry Birkenstock clogs that I obtained for free by Christmas caroling at the Birkenstock factory in 2001? Both choices sound pretty solid. Help.
One day, in my teaching years, I found myself wearing the aforementioned Birkenstock clogs to class. I was informed by a six year old that it looked like I was wearing a couple of sea otters on my feet. I think I replied with a simple, “They are.” Gotta keep ‘em guessing. Continue reading →
If you come here and hang out with me often, you will know that when it comes to watermelon I find myself a bit powerless. The weather starts to heat up, and I can’t seem to help myself. It usually starts with just cutting myself a slice. Wow! That’s so refreshing! Then I decide to cut another slice. Magic! Pure, magic! Sooner or later I find myself alone, with sweet, sticky hands. I have pink juice running down my chin and I have a slosh-y affliction in my gut that can only be described as “Watermelon Belly”. Those of you watermelon fiends know what I’m talking about. Things happen to your body when you decide to take on an entire watermelon. So far this season, I have learned this lesson exactly twice. I might even (definitely will) learn it again. Continue reading →