I am relieved to let you know that the "healthy eating habit" you have been so virtuously adhering to since January 1, 2013 is rapidly drawing to a close. The seemingly long hiatus between unhealthy eating seasons is, mercifully, almost over.
We had our warm up junk food fix with Halloween, small break, then the pure gluttony of Thanksgiving. Once Thanksgiving hits, it's pretty much fat, carbs, and sugar throughout the month of December, ending on New Year's Day with a groan and a horrified gasp from atop the bathroom scale. Three weeks have passed now, and I have to admit I've had some pretty amazing salads along with a meal of fantastically prepared fried rice (okay, there was bacon in it).
What season is upon us? You're seriously asking? Tsk tsk. Why, it's Girl Scout Cookie Season, of course. And, provided all of the boxes arrive safely home (they will be traveling dangerously close to a registered Tag Along addict), there will be Trefoils stacked to the ceiling. I am creating a map of hiding spots in the house complete with a decoder as soon as I've finished sharing my confusion with you.
Monday, January 21, 2013
Saturday, January 12, 2013
Vampires and Politicians
I am curious what images come to your mind when you hear the word "smugglers" enter into a conversation. Do you envision Captain Jack Sparrow stumbling toward you, asking why all the rum is gone? Or recall the last article you read on all of the drugs making their way past border patrol and into our country? Or if you're an Agatha Christie fan, maybe you remember wondering whether or not Valerie Hobhouse was indeed a part of that smuggling ring on Hickory Road...
I am fairly certain that I can tell you what image does NOT come to your mind. Garlic.
Yes, I mean the fundamental ingredient in many favorite recipes, including my favorite spread on baguettes (which, since the masked bandits have been rounded up, I have appropriately renamed Oven Roasted Garlic Smugglers).
Garlic, it seems, has been quite a hot ticket amid the European Union for the past few years, but as breaking news will tell you, the criminal masterminds are now safely behind bars. You can rest more easily now, I'm sure.
I am fairly certain that I can tell you what image does NOT come to your mind. Garlic.
Yes, I mean the fundamental ingredient in many favorite recipes, including my favorite spread on baguettes (which, since the masked bandits have been rounded up, I have appropriately renamed Oven Roasted Garlic Smugglers).
Garlic, it seems, has been quite a hot ticket amid the European Union for the past few years, but as breaking news will tell you, the criminal masterminds are now safely behind bars. You can rest more easily now, I'm sure.
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
The Light at the End of the Trail
Fortunately for me, my love for food is matched by my love for trail running. It somehow manages to balance things out, quite literally. Except during holiday season, when all running seems to halt and is replaced by cookie exchanges, extravagant meals, and intensely high levels of saturated fat.
This holiday season was extraordinary in many ways. The food was incredible. The time spent with family, unparalleled. The culminating event of the vacation...well, I can't clearly remember how that ended up to be a part of the schedule. And for a brief moment mid-way through, I questioned my sanity level.
January 5, we'd somehow decided, would be a fantastic opportunity to run a 25K trail race in the mountains of West Virginia. Somewhere between mouthfuls of End of the World Cheesecake and Christmas Dinner Beef Wellington, I heard my own little inner voice crying out desperately..."You're running 15 miles in 11 days!" I was sure to drown that silly little voice out with crab and artichoke stuffed mushrooms as quickly as possible.
This holiday season was extraordinary in many ways. The food was incredible. The time spent with family, unparalleled. The culminating event of the vacation...well, I can't clearly remember how that ended up to be a part of the schedule. And for a brief moment mid-way through, I questioned my sanity level.
January 5, we'd somehow decided, would be a fantastic opportunity to run a 25K trail race in the mountains of West Virginia. Somewhere between mouthfuls of End of the World Cheesecake and Christmas Dinner Beef Wellington, I heard my own little inner voice crying out desperately..."You're running 15 miles in 11 days!" I was sure to drown that silly little voice out with crab and artichoke stuffed mushrooms as quickly as possible.
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