So it turns out this whole food blogging this is pretty hard.
Not because of the writing, or even the cooking. But because of the dang PICTURES!
Because if you’re anything like me, you’re so starving by the time your food is sitting in front of you that you don’t want to waste any time between getting that first bite from your plate into your mouth. The last thing to run through my mind would be to pull out my phone, adjust the food just right, and snap a (pretty mediocre) photo.
This is a roundabout way of saying that I do not have many photos this week. BUT, I did make a couple really kickass recipes, including this Shaved Brussels Sprouts Salad with a Maple Vinaigrette from PreppyPaleo.com.
(LOOK MOM, I DIDN’T CUT MY HAND OFF ON THE MANDOLINE BLADE LIKE YOU SAID I WOULD!)
You can see the wine still made it in there—in my Vino2Go, no less. (Fun fact: these portable wine thermoses are perfect for sneaking into movies, or when you just want people to think you’re a raging alcoholic).
I’ve been struggling more and more to give up wine and other alcohol during the week, as I happen to have friends who are hilarious and awesome and find things like “The Golden Globes Drinking Game” where you drink every time they say Meryl Streep and I CAN’T HELP IT.
Also, the Bachelor. Wine is practically a requirement to watch it.
Another photo you will not see is one of my weekend meals, which was a big warm bowl of comfort itself: sausage gravy and biscuits. Honestly, it’s meals like these that make me feel bad for the cavemen. Because I really don’t think it’s possible to know joy unless you’re digging your fork into a buttery, fresh biscuit that’s been properly soaked in sausage-infused gravy.
But anyway, MODERATION MODERATION MODERATION. That’s been the word I’ve been repeating to myself most, and even though it sounds like I’m about to snap and chase my neighbor down with a hatchet it’s actually proven to be the most sane tactic I’ve tried thus far. I’m denying myself of things like cheese and bread during the week, but with the comforting reminder that I can enjoy them on the weekend. And this knowledge in itself has actually STOPPED me from shoving my face with bread and brie the second the clock hits 5 pm on a Friday, and has made me want to continue the good work I’ve done throughout the week.
Which is a pretty big deal considering I used to be able to down a pizza and a pint of Ben & Jerry’s (hi boyfriends!) without even blinking.
Overall, this post is kind of rambling, but end message: I fit back into a pair of jeans this weekend, so that’s got to be a sign that this cavewoman thing might not be so bad after all.
Even when I’m a bit of a degenerate on weekends.