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So, I hear the Super Bowl is going to be happening on Sunday. I’m going to be honest with you and let you know that I have no idea who is playing, and very little understanding of Football itself other than the obvious “CLEAR EYES, FULL HEARTS, CAN’T LOSE!”–You know, those Friday Night Lights feels. Texas Forever. Coach Taylor. Jason Street. Riggins. QB ONE! Ok, those aren’t really sentences, but rather just me blurting out names. Cool. Cool, cool. […]
I think I’ve been avoiding words.
For months I have been making eyes with a very shut computer, unable to crack the lid of my laptop and type. I’ve buried myself deep into distractions, watching the hours count down, watching the sun go down, waiting for inspiration, waiting to feel like I’ve something to say. Days slipped by as I felt unsettled and restless. Why can’t I write? I would move my body into the kitchen and go through the cupboards, trying to find some inspiration there. Just make something–a nudging whisper from my internal voice, barely audible. […]
We promised you a Christmas episode, but now that it’s March you’re just going to have to be cool with us talking to you about Valentines Day. Oh, wait. That was a month ago? Whoops. So, this podcast is coming to your ears a bit belated, but with all of our good intentions. Life got away from us. But, we’re ready to talk your ears off. By the way, Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, all the things. […]
Do you remember grade school fire drills? The alarm would sound. Momentary chaos ensued as the teacher tried to collect all thirty of us students — we were wiry, strong-willed things, with no intention of being collected or corralled or told what to do. Stern words would follow. Maybe a whistle would be blown. Eventually, we would all march out to the blacktop and line up in a line, facing the school, pretending to watch it burn down in horror. Yeah, we were dramatic. The moments after the drill were usually filled with a broken yet stern sort of disappointment from our teacher. We’d be reminded that the fire could have been real. We should take things more seriously. We’d be reminded that if we were ever to catch fire, God forbid, we were to STOP. DROP. AND ROLL. These words are very firmly implanted in my brain. For as much as I dislike being told what to do, and as much as I disliked the monotony of fire drills, I’m not opposed to keeping pertinent information in my brain that might save my life if I spontaneously burst into flame. I like having basic survival skills. […]
I might be having a bit of an existential crisis. I made an entire pan of eggplant parmesan without any actual cheese. And I liked it. A lot. In fact, not only did I not use actual cheese, I manufactured cheese out of nuts. Yup. Nut cheese. I’m still in the middle of a Whole30, which means no dairy for this girl. Enter the cashews.
There are several things I’ve been highly suspicious of in my life, and the culinary term “nut cheese” is definitely on that list. I mean, could it sound any less appetizing? It’s up there with bellybutton lint. Not something you want on top of your pasta. Or, anywhere near the kitchen for that matter. Just, no. But here I am, manufacturing cheese out of cashews. Nutting up a pan of eggplant parm, and trying to convince you that this recipe is so gosh darn good that I considered licking the pan. My husband, a fellow member of team “WHY WOULD THEY CALL IT NUT CHEESE?!” also couldn’t get enough of this stuff. So, in conclusion I think we can agree that the term “nut cheese” is totally gross, but we should put skepticism aside in order to make large pans of dairy-free comfort food. […]
Happy New Year, Friends!
You know how the presence of a new year has everybody feverishly whipped up in a resolution making tizzy? I get it. It feels like a fresh slate that needs to be marked with promises to oneself about how many vegetables we plan on cramming into our bodies. A sense of pressure builds towards midnight, until you find yourself on the couch blurting out random things you plan to do in 2016 to your husband. He looks on at your quizzically, as you shout things like “I’M GONNA MOVE MORE!” and “UKULELE LESSONS!!!”. […]
I’ve spent the last two years on a furious mission to heal from chronic illness. This has meant taking a look at the food I eat, the environment I’m in, the cleaning products I use, and all of the factors that could potentially be adding to the toxic load within my system. This also means taking another look at the beauty and skincare products I put on my face, since anything you put onto your skin is absorbed into your body with as much expediency as if you put it into your mouth and chewed it. It’s kind of gross to think about putting soap or face-wash into your mouth, and I’m not suggesting you should. This isn’t A Christmas Story, and I’m not Ralphie’s Mom. But, wouldn’t it be great if the products used on your face were so safe and non-toxic that you wouldn’t have to contact poison control if you accidentally took a bite out of the soap (yeah, but don’t–k, thanks)? Yes. The answer is yes. How great would it be to flip over your face wash or moisturizer and only find ingredients that you can pronounce, identify, and knew to be nourishing!? Really freakin’ great.
As luck would have it, I found Luminance Skincare a couple of months ago. Their products are gluten-free (because, yes…gluten totally hides in skincare and that sucks), vegan, and raw to boot! They sent me some samples, and from the first wash I was hooked. So, today we’re teaming up to chat about non-toxic skincare, the art of washing one’s face, as well as giving away a whole set of their beautifully-made skincare products (happy holidays to YOU!). […]
I spent eight years of my life in Los Angeles going to college, falling in love, and enacting all of the insecure “what do I want to do with my life?!” agony that a young twenty-something faces. After college I went to school for make-up artistry in Burbank, and spent lots of days in a hot room with other girls who liked lipstick. We learned how to do makeup for every occasion, and then we learned how to make realistic bullet holes and third degree burns. I worked as a photographer, taking head-shots of other insecure twenty-somethings trying to make it in Hollywood. I worked as a teacher. That was my favorite job. Kids are never boring. Ever. […]
Happy Monday, folks! My husband, Peter, is in the house today writing some words about salad. I really love this human, and I hope you do too. But, not too much. He’s mine. Alright, I’ll chill out. Here’s some words on vegetables…
I come from a family of salad skeptics. Sure, we’d have lettuce or vegetables as a side with dinner. Maybe it’d even include salad dressing with questionable expiration dates from my parent’s fridge. But the concept of a salad as a main course was a foreign one. The closest we got was a kale-mashed potato-sausage mash-up that I hated as a kid, however, older me is kicking younger me for missing out on that treasure. That diddy was of course made and served by my mom. My dad falls into the camp of “suspicious of anything green”. To this day, when it comes to vegetables, getting my father to eat his broccoli is a bib and a highchair away from my mother trying to airplane it into his mouth. So, salad as dinner? No. […]
This bowl of veggies speaks to my seasonal confusion. Warm brussies at the bottom, watermelon radishes chilling on the top with roots, macadamia nuts and toasted coconut. It’s some sort of a fall meets spring culinary mullet. Business on the bottom, party on the top. But, I’m not complaining. If I have to stare at a mullet of any kind, I choose this one. Or, one of my Dad’s headshots from the 80’s. He had a glorious and naturally curly mullet. The photo is in black and white, with a soft glow emanating off of his ringlets. It’s really something. So, I should change my statement and say that if I have to stare at a brightly colored metaphorical mullet, it would be this salad. You know, since my preferred black and white mullet slot is already taken. I like to clear these things up. They feel important.
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