January 31: Pizza Bake That is NOT Pizza, At All

This is not pizza. It is not anything like pizza. It’s good, but it’s sure as shit not pizza.

I forgot to take a picture of what we had for dinner, so I’m posting this one off of someone else’s Web site. It seems like everyone in our Whole 30 Challenge is eating this and talking about how awesome it is, so, well, i hate to be left out, (not true, I more hate to be included,) so I made it. Sure, it was fine. Actually, it was fucking delicious, (I added Kalamata Olives and Sun Dried Tomatoes and tons of garlic and onions and…) but it was not anything like Pizza. Calling it “Pizza Pie” is absurd. “Pizza Bake” is what most people I know call it, and that’s kind of like calling a glass of milk “liquid ice cream.” It’s just NOT. And this would have tasted better had it just been sold as “squash casserole,” because that’s what it was. Instead, the whole time, I was just all like, “this is not pizza.” But it is good. It’s just not pizza.

January 29: Steak and truffle butter, with veggies

Gamey steak with dreamy truffles.

This would be “the usual,” if a friend of mine hadn’t just had a monstrous haul of white truffles from Oregon. I’ll be making a bunch of Truffle Butter, but tonight just grated one little one and mixed with some ghee for Whole 30 complaint “truffle butter.” Truffle Ghee…. It made a less-than-awesome steak downright decadent.

The steak was left from a cow that we bought, and, I dunno, it wasn’t aged long-enough, I think. Just a little gamey for my taste….  And honestly, I’m tired. And I want to finish writing an article about poop. And one about fun things to do with penises. So I’m gonna do that.

January 24: Vietnamesish Lettuce Cups

Whole 30 Vietnamesish Lettuce Cups, with Sriracha of LOVE.

Sometimes you build a meal around a condiment. Especially if it’s a condiment that is a mind-bogglingly good Whole 30 compliant version of Sriracha, that is made by one of the most awesome humans on the planet, without whom your life would simply not be complete. That is how we wound up eating these incredibly delicious Vietnamesish Lettuce Cups for dinner.

Super simple, if you do a little advance prep.

INGREDIENTS:

January 18: Porchetta That Fucking Wins Dinner, BOOM.

Pork wrapped around pork. It’s a pork Turducken. It’s a Moreporken.

Put down your forks, because I totally fucking won dinner tonight. I do not care that it was not a contest, I still win. And I won right after the Seahawks won, so there was a lot of winning in this town tonight. But only my win was delicious. The skin was sooooooo perfectly crunchy, melt in your mouth salty that if Richard Sherman himself had come in and asked for a pice of my skin, I’d say “NO WAY.” (I’d definitely try to get him to take a bite of my real skin, which would be totally awkward, seeing as I was eating dinner with my husband, his mothers, my ex husband, our daughter and my dad.)

January 17: Lamb Vindaloo (In a Pressure Cooker!)

I’d say it’s Vindaloo-esque. And my first thrilling date with a pressure cooker.

New mantra in the house: Pressure cookers are slow cookers for people with procrastination problems. I realized a little too late that we could have lamb tonight. Why? Because Brady is at the firestation, and he hates lamb, so I never get to make lamb. Luckily, I remembered that somewhere in the hoarder’s mausoleum that is our garage, there was a pressure cooker.

After horrifying my daughter by spending 30 minutes rearranging 14 years of accumulated crap in the garage – including the unearthing of tutus that she probably didn’t want to picture her step father in, and great clouds of dust from years of Burning Man – I found it. It was under the chair that was under the wire book-case that was under the paddle boards that were under the tents. It took both of us, but we got it. 

January 15: Paleo Burgers Mean Lettuce Buns

Paleo burgers mean a lettuce bun. And yes, cavemen totally ate baked turmeric yam fries.

Okay, Whole 30, day 9? I think. Here’s how I spent it: HUNGRY. I kept waiting to get hangry, but I didn’t. Just hungry. Uber was doing a big fundraiser in Seattle, during which they sent personal trainers out to anyone who paid $30 for a 15-minute session. I suspect that most people did it for the “free” stuff they got for their $30: A bunch of fresh squeezed juice, a stainless steel water bottle and one of those fitness tracker band thingies. But they also got me (or one of my cohorts) spending 15-minutes with them either giving them a solid workout (I’m a CrossFit trainer, 15 minutes is LONG for me) or working on goal-setting and general inspiration. The latter is what most people seemed to want from me.

January 14: Too Tired To Cook, Eggs & Bacon

Breakfast for dinner because I skipped breakfast, and I’m a grown-up so I can do whatever the fuck I want.

Today was, or I guess still is Wednesday, which means I was in the gym at 5:30 in the morning. Which, in case you are unclear, is really fucking early and nobody should be doing anything at this hour. I do not, for the life of me, “get it.” At least it wasn’t Tuesday or Thursday, which means class would START at 5:00, and I would have to be there are 4:30. I don’t coach those days. For a reason. 

January 14: Awesome Meatloaf Made By My Husbands

Meatloaf, butternut squash and salad makes me a very happy Alyssa.

Yes, my husbands, both of them, cooked dinner for the family. And that is exactly as awesome as it sounds. But I should probably clarify that I’ve only been married to one of them at a time. The one who is actually my ex-husband pre-made meatloaf on Sunday, and my husband assembled and cooked tonight, with some butternut squash. My ex then made salad. As a result, my daughter and I came home from a long night at the gym, and were immediately embraced by a warm home filled with the scents of all manner of yummy, savory things.

It totally did not suck, in any way.

Also, my life is not always this perfect, so although I’m savoring the shit out of it, I know better than to get attached. 

January 12: Leftovers and contemplation

Big bowl of pasta, paleo style. Recipe below, really.

I’m on Day 6 of a Whole 30. Typically, for me, this is not a hungry time. It’s a sleepy and kinda crabby time. I’m not that much of either, though I’m totally going to bed as soon as this absurd TV show is over. The Bachelor, who makes this shit? Who wants to do this shit? I mean, this is awful. I’ve never really watched it. I watched the final episode of the season that a friend of mine was on, and I was pretty appalled, but…… I dunno, we all spend time watching our friends to stupid shit, so I just pretended that it was run-of-the-mill stupid shit, like painting your face for a sportsball game or something.

Anyway, tonight is low-key, after a day of meetings and running around. I ate the same thing that I ate last night, which is a huge part of my strategy of eating right. Make lots of nutritious foods and eat it for days.

Another important part of my nutrition strategy is snacking. Not if I’m not hungry, I’m not a mindless snacker at all. But I do carry snacks with me. In my bag (yes, the same one that a few nights ago carried a steak) you’ll usually find baggies of nuts and dried fruit, a Happy Tot or two, and some Epic bars. These are my go-to snacks, and I always have them on me, just in case. Because when I get hungry, I get crabby, I can’t think right, and…..  and, if I get hungry enough, I’ll eat anything. Mostly donuts, but anything will do. So I avoid getting hungry.

Food is about nutrition. It’s about feeding my body so that it will keep doing awesome things with me (and for me.) And today was just a lot of grazing on nutritious foods between meetings….. and then a giant bowl of leftover paleo pasta action.

Anyway, if you missed yesterday’s here’s my recipe for the paleo pasta, which is always a huge hit, with everyone, even the kids.

January 11: Paleo Pasta

Big bowl of pasta, paleo style. Recipe below, really.

One of the biggest things that people freak out about not getting to eat when one “goes” “paleo” is pasta. Honestly, I haven’t been a big wheat eater for ages. I come from a family of people with Celiac, and I am wildly sensitive to grains in general…..  so, as much as I love pasta, I eat it very rarely. But I do love it. There’s something about a big, hot, steamy bowl of saucy goopy pasta that is undeniably comforting. And we eat A LOT of it. Sort of.

My daughter calls it “gagaboo.” I have no idea why. But really, it’s a pretty classic Bolognese. I just serve it over Spaghetti Squash instead of grain-based noodles. I make a giant pot of it, roast half a dozen squash, and we have it as leftovers for a week, which makes my life easier.