I’ve been taking my time traveling down the paleo/primal/sugar-free route.  All in all, it has been nearly three years of denial, attempts to recreate foods I used to enjoy, resignation, and timid implementation.  Then, last month I read Mark Sisson’s “Primal Blueprint.”  One month in, and I’m doing well.  I feel good.  I thought I’d miraculously be able to fit into my senior year homecoming dress, but realised that was a super creepy aspiration.  Like, why would I try to recreate the body I had at the most awkward and sexless point of my life?

Anyway.

The General Guidelines:

1. Diet:  Meats, fats and vegetables.  I’m eating moderate amounts of lower-fructose fruits such as berries.  I’m avoiding potatoes, rice, grains, corn, and any other high starch foods.  No gluten or sugar.  The only oils I use are coconut, avocado, macadamia and olive.  I stay away from the rest.  I eat NUTS in moderation.  Mostly macadamia.  Any dairy I have is either super fatty or probiotic.  But, I think I might try to eliminate it for a time to punish myself.
2. Exercise:  Two weight sessions.  One intense 30 minute session, and a quick 10 minute, less taxing session.  I walk as much as I can, and aim for one two-hour hike a week.  One sprint workout.  Just 8 or 10, 15-30 second bursts as quickly as possible.
3. I”m trying channel my mealtimes into a 9am-6pm window.  It helps to pretend I’m a Gremlin.

That’s it.  And I occasionally have a couple glasses of  prosecco to convince people I’m still the drunk and slutty friend they can feel good about comparing themselves to.  Eating this way is  a big change that is not always easy or convenient, but for the first time, perhaps ever, I’m not constantly obsessed with food.  I don’t feel like my world is about to end if dinner takes an extra half-hour to get on the table. Actually, that’s a lie, but my moods are calmer and my thoughts are clearer.  I’m still a neurotic mess, but just a tiny bit less so.

I want to make it clear that this is working for me, but you need to do what feels right for you.  Just like some people give birth in their bathtubs, and some people give birth in hospitals; both groups are insufferable know-it-alls.  I’m a complete weirdo when it comes to food, but I believe there is no “right” to be a freak.  I just enjoy sharing my journey and hearing about yours.  Do what makes you feel great.

Chicken Zucchini Carbonara

This is a recipe I made up.  I’m not bragging.  I once made a huge batch of jerusalem artichoke soup that gave me terrible wind.  The problem was that I had put £12 pounds of seafood in there and felt obligated to eat it.  It was a harrowing four days.  So, I choose to celebrate my triumphs.  This gem is a win that almost makes up for smelling like a rhino for the better part of a week.

• 3-4 spiralised zucchini
• 1 TBS coconut oil or fat of your choice
• 4 slices of bacon
• A few mushrooms, chopped *optional
• 2 cloves garlic chopped
• 2 TBS very finely chopped red onion
• 2 cups leftover cooked chicken, chopped
• 2 egg yolks
• 1 TBS Gochujang *optional  (I make my own and will include a recipe next week.) I think it adds a nice savoury and spicy flavour.
• 1/2 cup heavy cream
• 1/2 cup grated parmesan cheese, plus extra for topping.
• salt and pepper to taste

1. Melt the coconut oil and fry the bacon until nice and crisp.  Drain the bacon on a paper towel.  Chop, and set aside for later.
2. Make the carbonara sauce by whisking he egg yolks, cream, and gochujang.  Stir in the parmesan cheese.  Add some salt and pepper.  I don’t know the exact amounts.  Do it your way, baby!
3. Keep the oil heated and cook the mushrooms down, if using.  Add the garlic and red onion and cook until nicely browned and softened, but not burnt.
4. Add the chicken, and heat through.
5. Add the zucchini noodles and cook for a few minutes, until any water released by the noodles is evaporated away, and the noodles are to your liking.
6. Lower the heat and add the cream sauce.  Cook for a minute or two.  Add half the bacon and give it a nice stir.
7. Dish out and top with bacon and extra cheese.  Add seasoning as you see fit.
8. Enjoy.  Win your day.

Garden works are underway at my home.  It is a messy business, but I can’t complain.  Two  young and handsome Australian men trek through my kitchen at least forty times a day.  It could be worse.

I’m Amishly new to any pornography outside of Judy Blume’s writing,  but the pervy possibilities of tradesmen in one’s home is a no-brainer.  Yet, rather than asking the tall, dark-haired one up to my bedroom to fix a perfectly intact closet shelf;  I realised all I wanted to do was make chicken liver pate on the hottest day of the year.

The blond, chatty one with the meaty legs, asked how I could stand be in front of the stove on such a warm day.   All I could say was, “I’m trying to incorporate more organ meats into my diet,”  It was the honest to goodness truth.

I can’t decide if my disinterest is wisdom and maturity, or culinary obsessiveness manifesting itself in sexual disfunction.  Either way, it is a win for any of you who like chicken liver pate.  This recipe is a delicious keeper.

Chicken Liver Pate

It is half-gone in this photo because I’m feral and eat spoonfuls of organ meat as a snack.

• 200 g/scant 1/2 lb chicken livers
• 1 shallot finely chopped
• 1 garlic clove finely chopped
• 1 bay leaf
• 1/4 tsp salt, and more to taste
• 1/2 cup water or broth
• 1/8 tsp allspice or nutmeg
• 6 TBS soft butter
• Pepper

1. Rinse and dry the chicken livers
2. Remove any connective tissue.  Gag.
3. In a frying pan, combine the chicken livers, shallot, garlic, bay leaf and salt. Add the water and bring to a simmer.
4. Cover and reduce the heat.  Allow to cook for 5-7 minutes.  Remove from heat and keep covered for 5 minutes.
5. Drain and remove the bay leaf.
6. Process the mixture in a food processor, and add the butter a tablespoon at a time, until completely smooth.
7. Taste and adjust the seasonings.
8. Spoon into a shallow bowl, or individual ramekins.
9. Smooth and cover.
10. Refrigerate for a few hours, and then enjoy.

I know this isn’t for everyone, but as a kid who grew up on liverwurst and mustard sandwiches…this is divine.  And, after the first time you make it, you can add seasonings as you like.  Next time I’ll simmer a little apple in for some sweetness.

*I hope this video can be seen, but if not, it’s Boyz II Men’s “I’ll Make Love To You.”  It makes me wish someone would hand-write Boyz II Men lyrics on parchment paper and leave them in a creepily voyeuristic and inaccessible part of my garden.

Please allow me to apologise to the person who reads this blog.  I went to China for a few weeks naively believing I would be able to post at will.  While I was able to watch all the frustratingly choppy porn I desired, the Communist party of China kept the world safe from another cauliflower recipe crafted by an annoying white woman.

In the past I’ve disparaged cauliflower rice as unappetising mouthfuls of fart, but I found a delicious recipe that has changed my world.  Or, I’ve unknowingly hit rock bottom and can’t even recognise when I’ve spent an hour preparing something that tastes like a poop gust.  If you’re adventurous and enjoy cauliflower, try it.  Let me know if it is pleasant, or if I’ve reached Gwyneth Paltrow levels of denial.

Cauliflower Fried “Rice”

This is a two part process, but it makes a big batch.  My brother felt it was too pea heavy and picked them out, so use your discretion.

*Just so you know, I made him eat all the peas he pushed aside once they got really cold.

Baked Cauliflower Rice

• 1 head cauliflower, chopped and pulsed into rice sized pieces
• 1 TBS cooking oil of your choice, I use coconut oil
• 1/4-1/2 tsp salt
• 1/4 tsp white pepper
• 1/4 tsp fish sauce

1. Preheat your oven to 425f/210c.
2. Mix the cauliflower, oil, salt, pepper, and fish sauce together.
3. Spread over a parchment lined baking sheet and bake for 15-20 minutes until lightly browned, mixing halfway through.
4. If you decide to stop here, you have a nice, base “rice”recipe.  If you’re a thrill seeker, keep going.

Fried “Rice”

sauce

• 1 1/2 TBS Tamari
• 1 tsp fish sauce
• 1/2 tsp mirin
• 1/4 tsp white pepper

1. Combine sauce ingredients and set aside.

the rest

• 2 TBS coconut oil
• 3 eggs beaten
• 1/2 small onion finely chopped
• 2 cloves of garlic minced
• a few handfuls cooked protein of your choice chopped into bite-sized pieces
• 2 carrots cut into small cubes
• 1/2 cup frozen peas, rinsed and drained
• 1 batch cauliflower rice
• chorizo, cut into small cubes and pan-fried until crisp and brown
• sea salt
• sesame oil (toasted)

1. Heat half the oil and scramble the eggs.  Set aside.
2. Add the rest of the oil to the pan until it shimmers.  Fry the onion and and garlic for around 20 seconds.
3. Add the protein and heat through for a minute or so.
4. Add the carrots and saute for 2-3 minutes.
5. Increase the heat and add the  cauliflower, peas, chorizo, and sauce, tossing.  Stir fry for a couple minutes before adding the eggs back in.
6. Taste and adjust seasonings.

I like to serve this rice with chicken skewers and faux peanut satay sauce.

*Will you pretty please, with sugar on top, watch this video?  It takes nine seconds for it to kick in, but it’s super wonderful.  I was having a moment where I wanted to smear red lipstick all over my face and start a grease fire, and this song saved me from myself.

Fundraising is awesome.  I stand by that.  Only a monster could have a beef with gathering capital for worthy causes.  As it turns out, I have a monster for a friend.  He said he’s tired of emails from old university chums and work colleagues asking for handouts so they can bungee jump in Costa Rica, or run marathons dressed as gorillas.  “These are all excitement or self-improvement based activities,” he explained, “if they really want my money they’ll do something degrading.”

Reluctantly, I will admit he has a point.  I briefly considered fundraising to enter the Boston Marathon, but realised it was mostly because there was no chance in hell I’d ever make the qualifying time on my own.  However, I must hold fast in my respect for marathons and ultras.  It is not easy work. I’m happy to give a fiver.  But, jumping off a bridge in Hawaii?  Eat me.

I would’t say I’m a bad person, but I can’t stop fantasising about the fundraising events I wish were commonplace:

1. Performing at an open-mic comedy night with no pre-prepared routine.
2. £2 per slice of uncooked pancetta consumed.
3. Allowing a three year old to design/select forearm tattoo.
4. Watching “Moonraker” every single day for a month.
5. Going door to door to sing Bel Biv Devoe’s “Poison”.

I don’t think these will happen any time soon, but I want to put it out there that I have a deep pocket for anyone willing to take it to the next level.

Or you can sell Girl Scout cookies.  I have a deep pocket for those too.

Girl Scout Cookies-Samoa Edition

Yesterday I received a letter in the post from my parents. I decided to open it on the bus, and felt a little giddy to see a St Patrick’s day card enclosed. I smiled at the sweet gesture, but felt eyes on the back of my head.  A glance over my shoulder revealed an older man staring at my card with puzzlement and disgust. It only had a leperchaun dancing across a rainbow, but the man’s face read as if it said, “sorry I raped your cat” across the top.  St Patrick’s day is not something celebrated here.

I miss it.  The family parties, homemade Baileys, rediscovering that corned beef is indeed delicious…abandoning my sister and her infant children at the side of the road during the parade to go get smashed in a sports bar.  Pure joy.

Anyway, it snuck up on me this year and I (surprise) feel a bit melancholy.  Most inspirational quotes I see imply that we make our own happiness.  That a positive mental attitude (PMA) and forging ahead with our own hopes and dreams drives satisfaction.  For most things, that absolutely has to be true.  However, there is no mindset that makes cooking two pounds of corned beef and drinking seven shots of Baileys on my own ever okay.  Imagine if I died and was found that way?  I’m sorry, but feck me, that’s grim.

If you are going to celebrate St Patrick’s day this year, I’m jealous.  I hate you a little, but please have a shot for me.  Send me a picture of your corned beef sandwich, your grandma passed out in the tub, or someone named Katie.

Mom’s Horseradish Sauce

Because I am in denial about a St Patrick’s day I don’t get to celebrate, I haven’t prepared a recipe.  But, I have a neat one from my mom’s cookbook.  I didn’t get her permission to post this, but I think she stopped reading this blog some time ago for obvious reasons, so it is unlikely she’ll find out.