How To Make An Awesome Cauliflower Crust Pizza!

There comes a time in every girls life where she finds an extra head of cauliflower in her fridge, converts that head of cauliflower into pizza, and then proceeds to nonchalantly shove that ENTIRE pizza down her pie hole. You know that whole “dance like nobody’s watching” saying we hear so frequently? This is the sneaky-awkward-alone with my feelings on a wednesday-food-blogging-girl equivalent. I ate this pizza like no one was watching (even though my dog watched the whole time–begging–judging–begging). Should we make some “Eat Like Nobody Is Watching” t-shirts? Maybe, yes. Sometimes you just have to let your hair down and go for it. Er… maybe in this case pile your hair into a messy bun on top of your head to avoid any sauce splatter that is headed straight for your coif. Don’t give me that look–like you’ve never gotten a big chunk o’ tomato sauce stuck in the ends of your ponytail. We’re friends. We can admit these things. This is a safe space. We’re in the trust tree. […]

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.  […]

Fig & Raspberry Quick Jam {Gluten Free & Paleo}

I am in a full on “HOW THE HECK IS SUMMER ALMOST OVER?!?!” meltdown.
Didn’t it just get here? I don’t even have tan lines yet. I haven’t gone swimming in a pool, and I definitely haven’t enjoyed as many Watermelon Margaritas as I would like. I’ve made exactly one trip to the beach, and it was totally fogged in that day. I was wearing a sweatshirt and drinking a tea. Sure, I’ve totally eaten my weight in peaches and berries, but I’m just not done. I don’t know if I’m ready for squash and apples and copious amounts of pumpkin on pumpkin all spiced up with cinnamon. Slow down. Pump them there breaks.
In one attempt to stave off fall, I have been overbuying things like raspberries and figs. I know that the figs will be around for a little while longer, but I have been hoarding produce. It’s a compulsion. I am not proud. Some people hoard cats. Some people hoard newspapers. I hoard seasonal produce. Just let me cope. I know that I will come around to fall. After all, there is Pumpkin Pie involved. Someone pass the whipped cream. Whoa… that wasn’t so difficult to get excited about. I really like pie. Still… I don’t think I’m quite ready. I hope the seasons can hold off until I have found an appropriate pair of really cute fall boots. You know, priorities.  […]

Easy Refrigerator Dill Pickles

Eleven years ago you could find me at a college theater party sharing a peach-flavored Arbor Mist with one of my best friends. Yes, directly out of the bottle. You might ask, what is the difference between a normal college party and a “college theater party”? Good question. I would have to say that since the people in attendance are theater students, can most likely cry on command, and have a flare for the dramatic, things can get intense. Also, there are usually two to five dudes that have ponytails (or if you’re lucky, a rat-tail)  un-ironically. Someone is drunkenly doing a monologue on the patio. Almost always someone is either wearing suspenders or a raccoon tail that is pinned onto the back of their pants. It’s a scene. I was there. It was confusing.

Ten years ago you could find me sobbing uncontrollably on the couch of my single-lady apartment. I was watching the last episode of Sex in the City and unashamedly splitting a whole rotisserie chicken with my cat. I wish I could say this is the only time that happened, but I would be lying to you. When you’re nineteen years old and live alone and have a lot of feelings, sometimes you just need someone to help you binge eat a whole chicken. You don’t discriminate if that someone has a lot of grey fur and two sets of paws. […]