Front porch swingin’.
Seriously. So much breakfast.
Sister’s puppy lovin’.
Aaaaaaaand that’s about it! Funemployment is great, isn’t it?by
Front porch swingin’.
Seriously. So much breakfast.
Sister’s puppy lovin’.
Aaaaaaaand that’s about it! Funemployment is great, isn’t it?by
Ever mixed red and white wine together? You know, just to see what would happen? Yeah, don’t. Just know I made that sacrifice for you. Moving on.
I just finished reading The Matchmaker last week—and yes, I cried (no, BAWLED) at the end…and for about three days after. Such a good book. I even made Ross help me plan a hypothetical trip to Nantucket, which would totally not have been hypothetical if we had disposable income at the moment. *Sigh*
If nothing else, people on Nantucket seem to eat fresh made gourmet food all day long. Every day. I can’t stop thinking about Box having a breakfast of cheddar scones over coffee every morning at the waterside B&B whilst courting Danbey. I have resolved to make cheddar scones and eat them on my front porch as soon as we move into the new place. Only a few more weeks…crashing with your parents not cool. And way less cool when you’re married and are, like, 30 years old.
We spent last week in Florida, though, with my in-laws. Still crashing with parents, but when you’re in Florida it’s easier to pretend you have a Bayside vacation home. So being a *vacation*, I made pancakes all week long. Obviously. The only exception being a couple of trips to Serendipity…their French Toast and Cornmeal Pancakes are beyond words.
Ever since my mom got me a jumbo bag of Namaste Foods Perfect Flour Blend from Costco, I’ve been using that. Remember that, when cooking with gluten free flours, no two are really the same so if you’re using another brand, the measurements may differ slightly. I’ve made pancakes using other brands of GF AP flour and some with my own blends with success as well, but the important thing is to add a little at a time to make sure the consistency is good.
Adapted from this recipe.
What with being unemployed and all and not exactly having a place to live until August 1, hubs and I are spending a few weeks with my parents. The older we all get, I’m starting to have more and more respect for how my folks have handled life after the last kid left home 8 years ago. Dad has been 100% retired for most of it and has steadily accumulated projects and community stuff to stay busy whenever he isn’t out on the motorcycle. Motorcycle rallies–the kind with checkpoints and landmarks to find within a 24-72 hour time limit over some region of the country–are pretty much his purpose in life. Mom still works as a nurse but has managed to keep the 3, 12-hour shifts a week for over a decade. I can only hope I’ll be so lucky. She’s been a gardener her whole life but when kids came along and life got busy we didn’t have much besides the flower beds and a few vegetable patches, but the garden beds have multiplied in the last few years to include everything from cucumbers and squashes, corn, beans, herbs, winter veggies, and, to my surprise when I came home last week, collards and kale (“everyone at work was talking about how much they love this stuff called ‘kale’ so I went and got a pack of seeds…). With my dad as a handy helper (he does the garden building and vegetable eating part) and a really commendable renewed devotion to personal health on their part, we can always count on fresh produce at home. So, obviously that brings me to today’s recipe. With the exception of the yogurt, everything here has been freshly grown and that’s pretty darn cool if you ask me.
Since summer is, you know, hot and all, I’ve been doing a *lot* of salads and cold veggies with dinner instead of the typical warm side dishes. Saves time, that’s for sure–one of my husband’s favorite things to toss on a plate next to the main event is a sliced heirloom tomato with salt and a drizzle of melted butter (speaking of which, grilled tomato and butter sandwiches are the bomb and I could probably eat them every day forever).
I got a little…fancy…with last night’s salad, as you can see. The dill was calling my name, I couldn’t resist. I’ve got fantasies of doing this again with some smoked salmon later this week. Please tell me I’m not the only one who’s dying just thinking about it….?
So I have an unnatural affection for bread and butter pickles. I happened to mention this to my mom a couple nights ago and I woke up to this the next morning.
Pickling at 7am. It’s clearly the only way.
Why, oh, why must the season of bikinis and shorts and crop tops (still can’t believe crop tops are a thing again…what is this, 1992!?) be the season of ice cold beer and ice cream and BBQ? The Universe is messing with me. We’re heading to Florida next week to see my in-laws, so between now and then I appointed my husband as my official health food Accountabilibuddy. So, like, lots of veggies. And manual labor. And grilling. And puppy play time.
Around here they own the joint. Her sister is actually the Swamp Thing. If you’ve never seen a white dog turn green…well…it’s nasty.
Alrighty, kiddos, we’re off to the Sunshine State for some…sunshine.by
When you and your spouse are both funemployed at the same time you get to do some really awesome stuff together. Like wake up late and sip coffee out on the deck on a Thursday. Like make breakfast side by side without bitching at each other because one or the other is already running late. Like just decide on a whim to go take a bike ride along the C&O. Like head over to the butcher afterwards and freak out the whole place when you ask for a beef heart and the guy says he’ll go see what they’ve got in the back and promptly slams what is most certainly the heart of a wooley mammoth–not a cow–onto the counter. What can I say? We’ve got fertile land.
“What is THAT??” asks the lady behind me.
“A beef heart!” my husband cheerfully replies. “They’re amazing. And cheap. And are, like, the beefiest beef you’ve ever had!” What we left unsaid was that by eating the cow’s heart we’d gain all of its strength and power.
Usually the easiest thing to do with a heart is to toss it in the slow cooker—they’ve got enough fat on them that they stay really moist and will flavor whatever accessory vegetables you put in alongside it. A “fancier” way to use it is to cut it into strips or chunks and just do your thing like you would with any other cut of beef. Being a holiday weekend and all, I figured now was the time to take a stab at grilling the thing.
Unlike other organ meats there really isn’t the need to disguise the flavor at all—the heart is a muscle, and tastes like any other muscle meat. If there’s anything distinctive it’s the almost “beefier” taste, if that makes any sense. I’m pretty confident that as long as you cut it right you could serve it to a crowd without anyone being the wiser. This is good because I’m not a huge fan of drowning something in sauce or marinade if I don’t have to…especially not when we’re lucky enough to have our herds raised on sweet, sweet valley grass.
We finally got all our stuff out of the Baltimore house yesterday—one thing I realized I miss from the Army was the fact that whenever you had to move, some moving company would just magically show up and four hours later, all your stuff was gone. Whether it would make it to where you needed to go was another story but considering we aren’t even taking possession of the new place for a month, I’m not thinking that far ahead. Either way. Moving yourself is awful. Righteously awful.
Fun fact…there is a Law of the Unviverse that states that no matter how hard you try, you will never—NEVER—fit all of your household goods inside your POD, despite more trips to Goodwill than I care to count and a pile of trash bags in the back alley I’m pretty sure could shield the place from a nuclear war. So, that was my weekend.
I know baking is probably the last thing anyone wants to do in the middle of the summer, except it’s the first thing I want to do every second of every day of the year so I’m posting this anyway. Y’all know I’ve been on my Vegan kick lately and I recently extended said Vegan kick into the realm of baked goods. I did try to make a Paleo/Vegan bread a while back (I’m still racking my brain for a way to make that happen) but for now I’m settling for this lovely creation.
It’s seriously delicious, not to mention versatile. Dudes, I made French Toast and sandwiches and toast with butter and jam and PBJ andandand they all held up. The pain with GF baked goods of any kind is that they can really be dry and crumbly, and doubly so when you have to eliminate eggs and dairy from the mix. I don’t know what it is about this specific combo of ingredients but it works beautifully. I had to experiment a little—it took me one miserable failure and two not-so-miserable-but-still-imperfect attempts to figure out the magic behind it and here is what I found/the ONE change I made…
I seriously heart this bread. I don’t care how hot it is. Get the recipe here!by
This is the first time ever that my husband and I have been (f)unemployed at the same time. I give major bonus points, too, since it’s over the summer and we’ve got a pretty sweet vacation schedule lined up. Seriously, not having a job and not having to worry about money doesn’t really happen. Ever. Except it’s happening right now. These are the moments where, you know, being smart and saving cash for the past decade helps you out. And when the GI Bill is as awesome as ever. Five deployments between the two of us almost seems not as craptastic as before. Almost.
What I like about having a year off from school, too, is that I can let the brain fog lift a little and catch up on normal people stuff. Less zig-zaggy chemical figures and renal fluid balance diagrams, more reading books in the sunshine. Books that make me laugh instead of cry. Books I can discuss with my husband over coffee. And by discuss I mean bitch about how pissed I get every time Judd suppresses his feelings while my own husband makes agreeable noises whilst reading the news or intermittently wondering aloud whether it would be better to upgrade some software on some device I totally don’t care about. If you missed the reference, I’m reading This is Where I Leave You—as soon as I saw that the movie was coming out and that Jane Fonda (love her) and the guys whose name I don’t know but who plays Adam on Girls (LOVE him) were in it I hadhadHAD to read the book. If nothing else, I love watching a movie based on a book and having read said book so I can complain about all the inconsistencies. Yes, I’m actually 80 years old.
Ya, so pork belly. Delicious, obviously. And since I have tome on my hands to do things like read a real book I have time to make pork belly in any way other than in a slow cooker. While it required my attention for longer than did the slow cooker method, I actually found this way to be easier. I hope that makes sense…if nothing else this is a great way to prep a slab for cooking later.
Basically, you braise the thing for a few hours, let it cool in the fridge for a while, cut it up into chunks (or probably even leave it whole) and pan sear it. Boom.
This is going to be a thing. I did see a thing on Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives the other day about pork belly on a stick. That’s going to need to happen soon, like, real soon.
So I dropped my “brand.” Seriously. New site, new name, but still all of my old posts. Aaaaaaaand that means what, exactly?
OK, here’s the deal. This last year was nuts. I got out of the Army, went back to school, got my pre-med certificate, and almost lost my mind along the way. Post-bac programs are wonderful in that they take non-traditional students like me who either haven’t been in school for a while or have non-science majors (me again, on both counts) and put them through all the pre-reqs and then the MCAT. In 12 months. It was insane and I can safely say I’ve never worked so hard in my life. And then there’s my dearest husband. Who also happens to be a prodigy–the man applied to two of the top business schools on the country a week before applications closed. On a whim. And then got in.
Long story short, we had a bunch of married-people-discussions and are now moving down to Charlottesville so he can start at B-school while I take a year off. So yeah, I am now a housewife. Next year, however, I will be a First Year in medical school–I had been accepted in the spring and the school was kind enough to grant a deferral.
What does this have to do with TGIPaleo, Paleo, or food in general? In all its craziness, I guess I just lost the energy to care as much as I did about all The Rules. This isn’t meant to be an “I Quit Paleo” post, because I’m not. Well, not quite.
I still think the Paleo framework is awesome and can change people’s lives for the better. I still think that good food fuels the mind, body, and soul and that the Standard American Diet is crap. I still think certain foods or, more specifically, certain ingredients should be avoided (i.e. sugar and gluten). I am going to be a doctor one day, and I want to be the best possible example of good health for my patients. Part of that “good health” is sound mental health.
Listen, Paleo has a lot of great points working in its favor. So do plenty of other ways of eating. I think you’ve all probably taken note of my recent foray into Vegan cooking lately. But you back yourself into a corner when you try to put labels on everything, including yourself. I love food. I love cooking. I like trying to be healthy most of the time. I do NOT like being obsessed with food to the point of insanity and that’s the problem I have with a lot of the mainstream Paleo movement. A trip into some popular forums is like a peek into an insane asylum full of people pulling their hair out wondering whether or not they “failed” their 30-Day Paleo challenge on Day 29 because someone put breadcrumbs in the meatloaf.
Avoiding processed and packaged food, making meals at home, paying attention to what makes you feel good and what doesn’t, eating the best quality food you can afford (lots of veggies, people!), and doing your honest best is good enough.
I thought I could at least convey this message on the blog and try to temper some of my admittedly more die-hard posts of the past. But at the end of the day, I was the proprietor of a “Paleo Blog” and was held to some invisible standard. As a Paleo brand, suddenly I was being scrutinized constantly–maybe because I posted pictures of non-Paleo food on Facebook or Instagram (GF cupcakes…oops) or because I posted recipes that skirted the definition of “Strict Paleo” (apparently rice makes people angry). I mean, seriously? I love how some people clearly have nothing better to do than to troll the internet for excuses to be asshats. Oh, and now there are sites out there whose sole purpose in life is–literally–to bash other people. So you know what? Screw it.
Hi. I’m Camilla and my diet has no label. I eat what I want, when I want, where I want. There is nothing else you need to know.
From now on, I’ll show you what I’m cooking and baking, maybe some clothes and makeup I like, too. I might talk about my latest ventures in housewifery. You know, things I care about and that make me happy. No labels.
Maybe you noticed, maybe you didn’t, but I’m telling you anyway. Not only is the sight slightly re-formatted (no surprises, I swear…I am definitely not that competent with computery stuffs) but I’ve dropped the TGIPaleo brand name and adopted a new one, The Not So Desperate Housewife.
More details to come–right now I’m going through and making some formatting tweaks for some stuff that didn’t make it through in one piece.
Otherwise, everything should be unchanged. All the old posts are there, all the old recipes intact, and if you search TGIPaleo, it will still direct you here.
We’ll talk soon, k?by
If you know me at all, you know I really don’t care about making sure my recipes are “light” or “healthy” or “skinny” or whatever. The Paleo/Primal way of eating, by definition, is a hell of a lot better than the Standard American Diet, and I’ve found that just avoiding crappy ingredients makes a world of difference–even when you’re making comfort food. Fish and Chips happens to be one of my all time favorite comfort foods, so I got some tilapia and some sweet potatoes, was all set to make up a nice batter and fry everything up in some coconut oil, and then…I just pooped out. I’m mid-move, you guys. I’m tired. I’m cranky. I just wanted dinner on the table when Ross came home and was NOT in the mood for anything requiring any cranial activity.
So, here’s what I did…I made sweet potato fries like I always do, except with some vinegar because that’s how they always give them to you when the whole mess is served out of a truck wrapped in newspaper. Then I took the fish, threw them on a baking sheet, and seasoned the heck out of them with all the flavors that you’d expect from the fried variety. Think lemon, thyme, a little oregano, garlic, and (obviously) salt. I know every recipe varies the batter a little bit but I really tried to capture what I would say (in my own experience) is the quintessential fish and chips experience. And it definitely did not disappoint. But I was tired, so maybe I’m just full of it. Either way, the whole thing took 30 minutes, most of it spent racked on the couch, so I’ll call that a win.
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