Sunday, February 9, 2014

Paleo Chicken Alfredo

The other night, I made a Whole30 compliant spin on Chicken Alfredo.

The morning prior to making the chicken alfredo, I had been volunteering with an organization and my task was to help groups of kids prepare their meal for lunch. To get off track here, I'll just say that was an awesome way to spend my morning. I'm a major proponent of feeding your body good, real food and so many kids today don't know what good, real food is. A group of us guided children in cutting up asparagus, butternut squash, onions, zucchini, and broccoli to roast. They helped make the pasta and homemade tomato sauce. And one woman shared her recipe for homemade alfredo sauce. It was sweet to see the kids take pride in the fact that they were the ones who prepared the food. It was especially neat to hear some of them say they would try the vegetables even though they didn't like vegetable. Goes to show you, that if you involve the kids in the process, they might make better choices when it comes to food.

Anyway, I stood in that kitchen for three separate sessions and watched them make the deliciously creamy and cheesy alfredo sauce. As soon as I got home, I started researching paleo versions of alfredo sauce. I used what I found as a guide to make my own version. I am beyond pleased with the result and it will be a go-to favorite from here on out. It's simple and we almost always have all ingredients needed on hand. One of the best parts... the sauce is made out of an entire head of cauliflower, so you don't need to feel bad about loading up on the creamy goodness.

Paleo Alfredo Sauce:

  • 1 large head of cauliflower, broken into florets
  • 1/4 cup ghee or clarified butter
  • 2 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 cup coconut milk
  • 2 Tbsp nutritious yeast (I got mine at whole foods, also available on amazon)
  • Pink himalayan salt
  • pepper
1. Put cauliflower florets into large pot and cover with water. Bring to a boil and cook until cauliflower is tender, approximately 15 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, transfer cauliflower to blender or food processor. Add 1/4 cup of cooking liquid. Blend until smooth.

2. Melt ghee in saucepan with garlic. Add coconut milk and stir until heated through. Mix in mashed cauliflower and yeast, stirring until heated through. Season with salt and pepper.

You can find the recipe for Roasted Spaghetti Squash here. I had this roasting while I prepared the sauce and cooked my chicken. You can cook your chicken however you prefer. I let mine marinate in olive oil and a mixture of spices, including red pepper, salt, garlic, onion powder, and parsley prior to cooking it. 

Thursday, January 23, 2014

On "The Bachelor"

I don't watch The Bachelor... and I never will. So I know my opinions are coming from an uneducated place (I'm okay with that). ::I have read the recaps of the shows here, because I enjoy her sarcastic tone and her judgment of everyone.:: But, it seems to me, that when you are going on dates that involve pulling out all the stops like private jets, personal catered meals, candlelit everything, serenades, etc. it would be super easy to get swept up in all of that and think you are in love. And then, no wonder, once the show is over, most of these "relationships" don't last... because guess what, when the show goes, so does all the money bankrolling these ridiculous dates and you actually have to be with this person without all those happy distractions.

What they should really do is go on real dates... you know, the ones where the guy takes you to a restaurant and he tells you to order the duck if you want (as a way to let you know money isn't a concern). But let's be honest, you don’t want the duck – who ever does??

After you’re done eating your not-duck, you can go on an awkward after-date to get ice cream and sit on a dirty bench in a poorly lit outside dining area doing the whole “getting to know you better” thing.

Obviously, at this point, things are going super. So the next step on your date would be to go back to his place, affectionately nicknamed “The Taint” (as if that weren't a blaring warning siren) where you will keep up the awkward shenanigans and make out with him on his couch. The couch that, by the way, god knows what has happened on. I mean… look at it.

Right before you think that a second date is on the table, it happens. The really realness of the date happens. And he suckles your chin. You think, oh, maybe this is an accident. My face might be slippery. He slipped. But no. More suckling. This is getting weird. How do you stop this? You feel bad, because he clearly thinks this is the ticket… this is his MOVE.

Finally the kissing and chin sucking come to an end. And you do the whole “it’s getting late… class tomorrow… gotta wash my face” bit. You get your uncomfortably silent ride back home and you both know after the polite “this was nice” you’ll only see each other in passing.

You don’t marry that guy. Because you weren't blinded by a spontaneous flight to Paris for lunch, followed by a private dinner for two in an oceanside bungalow. You probably would have forgiven the chin sucking (and the resulting mass of acne) with all those bells and whistles. But the realness of the date allowed you to move on to bigger and better things and find the person you really do want to marry (but not before you date the guy with cankles and the guy who still lives with his parents). 

Monday, November 18, 2013

10 Things: Random Facts About Me

10 things: Random facts about me

The Facebook posts going around where people get a number and then post that many random facts about themselves have inspired this post. I think I’m going to start a “10 things” series, and this is a good way to kick that off.

  1. I don’t share dairy. When I was little, I drank directly from the milk carton. My mother caught me and told me that that would ruin the milk because saliva clings to dairy and breaks it down. From that point on, I would refuse to share anything dairy because I can barely handle my own saliva without gagging…. Much less someone else’s transported into my mouth via an ice cream cone.
  2. I was a child “model.” I use that term lightly, b/c the word ‘model’ inspires visions of glamour and beauty. My 6-year-old self possessed neither of those qualities. I did, however, have the remnants of a perm and a self-induced bowl cut, along with a one-piece pantsuit in the same floral pattern covering my grandmother’s couch.
  3. I once actually peed my pants from laughing so hard. I don’t feel this needs further explanation. Are we still friends?
  4. I look like a boy in my Kindergarden school picture. In protest of my mother wanting to curl my hair for her wedding, I chopped it all off. She paid me back by dressing me in a white button down shirt and a black necktie for school picture day.
  5. I made up a fake boyfriend and got caught. In 6th grade, I was tragic. And in order to impress the new, totally cool, girl on my block, I told her I had a boyfriend. Unfortunately, I stupidly used the name of a real boy. In an awkward encounter at the mall with said cool girl and said fake boyfriend, I was totally called out on my lie.
  6. Up until recently, I went to the hospital at least once a year. From the time I was 2 years old, I would injure myself and/or get sick to the point that hospitalization was required at least once a year. Currently, on a two year no-hospital visit streak!
  7. I used to scream when I would toot. First of all, we all know girls don’t fart, so this is obviously a fictional fact. But for the post’s sake, let’s pretend I pass gas on occasion. For the entire year of our engagement and the first 2 years of marriage following, if I had to fart when I was around Bryan and there was no running out of the room as an option, I would scream to cover up the sound.
  8. I started out my college career majoring in Physics. I truly loved science and math, and was encouraged to pursue this field of study by my high school physics teacher. Once immersed in it, I realized I liked words better than vectors and changed my major to English Communications.
  9. I ran away from home when I was in 4th grade. To my other home, which was about 3 miles away. My dad told me that if I peeled the potatoes for dinner, I could go to the park. I fulfilled my end of the deal and he reneged on his, offering the backyard as a substitute. Pissed off, I waited until he walked away from the window and hightailed it the hell out of there. I sure showed him as I huffily walked down seedy streets, passed dead skunks, and crossed major traffic – gradually realizing the error of my ways the farther I got from his house. He finally found me about a ½ mile from my mom’s house, so relieved I was okay that he could just kill me. This was not the first time I ran away from home… but it would be the last.
  10. I went to a Coolio concert in 6th grade. I didn’t even like his music. I didn’t know the words to his songs. But it was the cool thing to do. I should have listened to my mother when she initially refused to buy me tickets to see a concert where all they do is tell you “to *eff* yo momma.” (ßher words, her exact words). I’m almost positive none of Coolio’s songs contained that phrase.