Ding This.

Friday night is my favorite night to cook. Work is finished for the week. I can sleep in on Saturday. Don’t have to rush. Don’t have anything else that needs my attention. I can just pour a glass of wine, turn on some good music and unwind in the kitchen. 

I like to think of the kitchen as my happy place. But with the amount of swearing and cursing that comes out of there, The Husband would be quick to disagree. 

Back to Friday night’s dinner. 

I’ve got a great, easy-to-make recipe that is perfect for the weekend. With a few conditions:

You have a lot of time to dedicate to it. (I said it was easy, not quick. Big difference.) 

You aren’t cooking for someone you’ve just started dating and/or intend to make out with later. 

You have no plans to leave the house after dinner. 

You’ve got a Costco-sized bottle of mouthwash at the ready.

This recipe has a sh*t ton of garlic in it. 

Forty cloves of it, to be exact. 

That’s right. This is a recipe for 40-clove garlic chicken. And it’s one of my best. 

You can adapt this recipe in a few obvious ways if you’re on a specific diet, like Whole30. For starters, you can omit the wine. And you don’t have to use a fresh, crusty piece of bread to soak up the juice. 

But if you’re splurging, it’s not all that unhealthy of a meal otherwise.

Alright then, let’s get started. 

Step one: Pour yourself a glass of white wine. You’re going to need to open a bottle for this recipe anyway, and trust me, in a little bit you’re going to be glad you’re drinking wine. 

Step two: Count out 40 cloves of garlic. You’ll need roughly three heads or so to yield that many. Just count them out first; don’t worry about peeling them yet. Sorting 40 cloves of garlic is going to leave you with a giant mess. Toss all the layers of garlic peel so you’ve got a clean surface to work with to peel your garlic. 

Now, peel your garlic. This could take a while. 

I don’t know about you, but this is one of my least favorite culinary acts. I’ve tried all the tricks. Shaking them in a jar only kinda loosens them up. I use the side of my knife to smash them a little, and that seems to be the best method for me. 

I guess you could buy the bag of already peeled garlic they sell in the produce section. But trust me, it’s just not the same. 

Around 18 cloves into the peeling process, two things are going to happen: You will finish your glass of wine, and you will hate me for tricking you into making this dumb recipe. 

Wait for it. It pays off. Trust me.

Once you've got all you garlic peeled, leave them intact and put them aside in a bowl. Thinly chop four stalks of celery, and put them aside in a bowl as well. You'll also need a few sprigs of Italian parsley, olive oil, chicken broth and of course, your vino. 

I like to use a combo of chicken drumsticks and thighs for this recipe. Salt them generously, and arrange them in the bottom of a Dutch oven, or any other pot that is oven-safe. Oh yeah, turn on your oven. 375 is good. 

Toss in the garlic, then the celery. Grind some fresh pepper all over, and sprinkle about a teaspoon of nutmeg on top. Throw on your sprigs of Italian parsley. Drizzle about 2 tbsp. of olive oil all around. Add 1/3 cup of low-sodium chicken broth and 1/4 cup of dry white wine.

While you've got it out, you may as well top off your glass. 

Wrap a sheet of aluminum foil on top and then place the lid on over it. Pop that puppy in the oven for an hour or so. Go sit down, drink your wine and try not to eat the entire loaf of bread before dinner is ready. 

Check on it at the hour mark. You'll know it's done when you can press on a garlic clove and mash it easily with a fork. Like this: 

Serve it in a bowl with a hunk of bread, and be sure to include plenty of the brothy goodness at the bottom of the pot. That's the good stuff. 

Let’s talk for a minute about house hunting.

Specifically, how much it sucks.

We’ve been priced out of just about every neighborhood and house we’ve fallen in love with, and finally had to start thinking (with our brains, not our hearts) about finding the right place at the right price. We found a fixer-upper that is truly a FUMF (Fixer-Upper Mother F*cker) and finally had an offer accepted, only because we went over asking price.

A couple weeks ago, getting an offer accepted seemed like it would be the hardest part. After that it would be smooth sailing, right?

HAHAHAHAHAHA No.

Today we’ve got our inspection scheduled, which is where we find out what’s really wrong with this place and exactly how deep of a money pit it’s going to be. I’m so nervous about it I can hardly sit still. And all I can think about is stress-eating an entire bag of cheddar and sour cream Ruffles.

All this trying to buy a house has made me SO BUSY for the last two weeks. Honestly, didn’t I just finish Whole30 last week? It’s just flown by and I don’t know what I’ve done with all that time.

The funny thing about the process so far is that there isn’t much I’ve done, personally. I’ve Docu-signed my face off, and answered about a gazillion texts and emails from our lender and realtor. I’ve wrangled up all the paperwork they’ve asked for. So you know, last month’s pay stubs, bank statements, our cats’ birth certificates, the Scantron form I took my first algebra test on, declarations of what we’ll name our first-born child… All that stuff.

I think what it is, is that it’s a total energy-suck. I’m so exhausted and stressed out that by the end of the day, I just want to collapse in front of the TV and not think about anything. Including what I’m going to cook for dinner. I’ve meal prepped schmaybe twice in the last two weeks. We’ve eaten at so many restaurants (there may or may not have been an incident that involved French fries covered with cheddar cheese and bacon) and ordered so much take-out, because really, I literally can’t even.

Last night, I made it a point to cook. It was actually kind of a stress reliever to just focus on making a delicious home-cooked meal. Of course, the glass of wine I had while cooking might have helped ease my mind a bit.

We bought some awesome looking pork chops at the market on Sunday, and I wanted to try a pork chop recipe in the Whole30 book. I forgot, until I got started cooking, that they made an applesauce to serve with the chops. So the only seasoning the recipe called for was salt and pepper. I sure as sh*t didn’t have the time or energy to make applesauce from scratch (although it was probably pretty simple), and that preparation for the pork chops seemed boring and basic. I wanted a little something more.

So, I improvised.

And, it was delicious.

And, it was easy.

This is literally all I did. In small bowl, I combined salt, pepper, mustard powder, garlic powder and onion powder. In hindsight, I would have added some dried rosemary to brighten things up a bit. Stir it and mix it all up, and then sprinkle it all across the pork chops. Rub it in. Flip ‘em. Rinse and repeat.

I had a baking dish on standby and my oven heated to 350°. Meanwhile, on the stovetop I melted about a tablespoon of ghee into a non-stick skillet, and at a very high heat, I seared the chops on each side about 2-3 minutes. Basically, you just want it flash-browned before you finish cooking them in the oven.

Real quick side note: I still can’t say, read or type the word ghee without a little voice in my head going “gheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

Once the second side is browned, place the chops onto your baking dish and finish them off in the oven about 10 minutes, give or take depending on size. I did mine about 12 minutes and the smaller ones were a little overdone.

While your chops are in the oven, go back and look at the skillet. If you did it right, there is going to be a bunch of browned bits stuck to the bottom of the pan. DO NOT LET THIS GO TO WASTE. It’s the best part. Deglaze your pan with some apple cider or apple juice, and use a rubber spatula to scrape up those brown bits and mix it all up with the juices. You can either (a) use this to make a sauce to dunk your pork chops in, or (2) do what I did, and pan fry some Brussels Sprouts in it. It’s so flavorful already; you won’t need any additional seasoning. I salted mine a little, but that’s just cause I’m so salty.

You can round this out with a baked sweet potato or some cauliflower mash, if you have the time and energy. Which clearly, I don’t, because I ate this deliciously simple dinner and immediately zonked on the sofa. My dirty dishes are still in the sink, if anyone feels like coming over to do them.

Everyone I know is buzzing about the New York Times article that came out over the weekend discussing the “Biggest Loser” contestants and how they gain weight back after the competition is over. To be honest, it was about as shocking to me as Melisandre bringing Jon Snow back to life.

Ooops. Spoiler alert?

The contestants’ weight gain isn’t news, and shouldn’t be wowing everyone as much as it is. After season one of the show, I read a magazine article talking about the second-place runner up and what he went through to try to win the show. In the days leading up to the finale, he had done all the tricks that body builders and fighters do to cut weight. Dehydrate. Starve. Sweat. Guess what? The man gained back 35 pounds in the first week after the weigh-in. You know why?

Because he returned to a normal lifestyle, but his metabolism did not.

The real news of this article, and what ought to be the biggest takeaway, is the discovery that the drastic (and in my opinion, violent) weight loss that the contestants undergo during the six or seven months on the show plummets their resting metabolic rate and levels of leptin, the hormone that controls hunger. When the show was over, their RMR (the level of energy and calories your body would burn if you did nothing but rest all day err day) was burning hundreds of calories less than people their size ought to. And they were hungry all the freaking time.

Do you have any idea how much that sucks? That would be like, if you and your friends ordered a pizza to share, and everyone gets one slice and feels fine because they didn’t overeat, but then you’re over there unbuttoning your pants and digging in your purse for some Pepto.

That would be like, if you went to the gym with your bestie to hit the treadmills and she sets hers at incline level 2 and walks about 3 miles per hour, while you’ve got yours cranked all the way up to 15 and you’re running a solid 6 mph and sweating like a pig, and then after an hour she’s blasted 350 calories and you only burned 85.

That would be like, if you and your friends went out for drinks and everyone else orders another round except for you because you got wasted halfway through your light beer and now you’re passed out on the table and everyone’s drawing the word “lightweight” on your forehead and taking selfies with you while you drool.

That one might be a stretch, but you get the picture.

Simply put, it just plain sucks.

The show’s doctor, in the article, says he wasn’t surprised to see the RMRs drop, but acknowledged that he didn’t expect to see them drop as much as they did. What he says next is a real kick in the pants: “Maintaining weight loss is difficult … which is why he tells contestants that they should exercise at least nine hours a week and monitor their diets to keep the weight off.”

NINE HOURS A WEEK?

Who the f*ck has the kind of lifestyle that gives them the freedom to work out NINE HOURS each and every week?? I mean it. Really. I want to meet this person so I can find out where I went wrong in my life.

That is more than an hour each day of exercise. That’s more than 90 minutes a day if you’re even thinking about taking a rest day.

You might be thinking that doesn’t sound so bad. Let’s really take a minute to break that down. We’re not talking about 90 minutes a day running on a treadmill. We’re not talking about 90 minutes a day of Bikram yoga. We’re not talking about that Zumba class you take three nights a week. We’re talking 90 continuous minutes of high intensity cardio and strength training.

I go to a morning bootcamp about four to five times a week. The class time is from 5:30 a.m. to 6:15 a.m. We show up; there are stragglers; we do a short warm-up; then we receive instruction for each of the exercises in that day’s circuit. By the time we begin class, it’s 5:45 a.m. On our best days, we clock a solid 30 minutes of exercise.

Working out at a high level of intensity for a solid 90 minutes? Woof.

The average Joe or Jane isn’t going to have a lifestyle that provides them an opportunity to do this. We all work. Some of us have a commute. Some have kids. Some have two jobs. Pets. People to care for other than themselves. Houses to maintain. We need time to cook. Meal prep, dammit. So much meal prep.

What’s that? Time to relax? Have fun? HAHAHAHA shut up, stupid.

Unless you have a career that enables you to afford to pay for a chef, a nanny, a gardener, a housekeeper, a personal assistant, and likely, a personal trainer, exercising nine hours a week is a pretty unrealistic goal to maintain for a long period of time, let alone, forever.

It’s no wonder to me that the contestants on “Biggest Loser” struggle so much after the show is over. Their bodies freaked out trying to adapt to the demand of seven hours a day of exercise. That’s right – while on the show, they exercise SEVEN hours a day. F*ck that. Then, once their bodies get used to that abuse, it all stops! Their bodies are exhausted and trying to figure out what the hell is happening. Even worse is the mental state that’s got to go along with that.

This morning I heard one of the contestants interviewed on TV, and he was talking about the shame he felt gaining weight back. You know how ashamed you feel around your friends when you’ve gained weight? Try to think about how much shame you’d feel when the entire country is looking, he said.

Holy sh*t. Can we all group hug and tell this guy everything is going to be OK? 

Look. I get it. More than anyone might know. For a while there, a good five years or so ago, I got into pretty good shape. I didn’t have a whole lot going on in my life, so it was my priority. I had the time and the focus. I felt great. I wanted other people to feel just as great. So, I became a personal trainer. I got certified. I had clients. I made some good money on the side. I got more clients. But, I still had my day job. I started having less time to work out on my own. Less time for meal prep. Less time to have a life.

I gained the weight back. A lot of it. I wasn’t in good shape anymore. I had a hard time telling clients what to do when, obviously, I wasn’t doing it either. So, I quit.

The level of shame I felt – and still feel – is huge. I once was the trainer and now I’m the trainee. I once was close to having rock solid abs and now I’m fighting the spare tire.

Where I went right this weekend: 

Let’s just skip ahead to the next part, alright? 

Where I went wrong: 

Here’s a quick rundown of all the foods I’ve eaten since Whole30 ended last week. This may or may not be all-inclusive.

tortilla chips

tortillas 

margaritas

refried beans (with cheese)

bread (many varieties) 

red wine

so much bourbon

glazed donut (an attempt to ease the hangover cause by above)

pasta

peanut butter

french fries

grilled cheese sandwich

champagne

The idea of reintroducing food groups one at a time went out the window about 35 minutes after my first drink. Let’s just say that, this morning, I’m actually relieved it’s Monday so I can get back on program and give my stomach a recovery window.

Goals for this week: 

As I write this, I am chewing on the first piece of bread I’ve had in 30 days.

It’s a sourdough baguette from Panera. The bread is usually my favorite part of any meal. But today, my first day after doing Whole30, surprisingly, it just tastes “meh.”

Maybe I was expecting something better? Maybe I remember it wrong? Maybe my taste buds have changed? I can’t pin it down.

It’s not bad, not at all. It’s just not something I would crave eating that much anymore.

Over the years, I’ve been your stereotypical yo-yo who goes back and forth from being overweight, then getting in shape, and then falling back again. One thing that’s become clear to me is that “living a healthy lifestyle,” or “getting fit,” or “losing weight” – whatever name you assign to it --  doesn’t just happen like flipping a switch; it’s more like climbing a ladder. You can’t just jump from the ground up to the highest step. Those who opt for the most drastic measures, the most violent changes in their lifestyles, are apt to fall and break their asses. Those who climb the ladder one rung at a time will reach the top eventually.

For me, the bottom rung of my ladder had to be the first few years I spent working after college. I worked two jobs (because journalism don’t pay shit, but that’s another blog) from 6 a.m. until about 11 p.m., five days a week. I ate take-out at least twice a day: Breakfast at Starbucks (always a scone or pastry) and dinner at any given drive-thru close to work. My protein came from whatever was inside a tortilla or between hamburger buns. I’d snack between meals on candy bars or chips I bought from the vending machine at work. I drank giant diet sodas, coffee or Red Bull. They’ve all got water in it, right?

It took a lot of learning, and a lot of trial and error, to get me even halfway up that ladder. I’ve tried restricting calories, increasing exercise, cutting carbs, avoiding fat, and eating in moderation. Each time, two steps up the ladder, one step down.

This Whole30 program is the first time I’ve found a long-term solution. Not just because I lost a lot of weight (that number is coming…) but because of how I feel now, compared to how I felt 30 days ago. Remember that cookie in my desk drawer? It’s still there. Here’s proof:

If you recall, 30 days ago, I had to talk myself down from stuffing that cookie in my fat face. Nothing would have made me happier than eating the little pink sugar flowers. Today, when I opened up my Panera lunch (free lunch from work –woot!) the first thing I saw was a chocolate chip cookie. I didn’t think twice before handing it to my co-worker. “Here. Take this.”

When you end your Whole30, you’re supposed to reintroduce foods one at a time. The Husband and I have a date with a basket of tortilla chips tonight, so I knew a cookie (sugar, carbs, dairy, more sugar) was off limits. I did allow myself to have that beautiful, soft, doughy bread. And after the reaction I had to that first taste of bread, I’m glad I didn’t waste time with that cookie. I imagine my reaction would have been the same.

BTW, I did not finish the bread. Who the fuck am I?

There are many more steps above me on that ladder. I could climb them if I wanted to. I could replace meals with shakes, but I like chewing. I could give up coffee, but no one would like me uncaffeinated. I could go vegan, but it’s taken me years to learn to like Greek yogurt so why give up now. Plus, cheese.  

With Whole30, I’ve found a nice rung on my ladder that I’m comfortable with. This “diet” was rough, don’t get me wrong. But if I can find a happy middle ground where I can eat a healthy diet with delicious whole foods AND be able to enjoy a glass of wine with dinner every now and then, I could do this forever.

You know, as long as I get to splurge sometimes to eat a big dumb burrito and the occasional pizza.

My more intuitive friends are getting a picture of what this weekend is going to look like for me.

OK, enough fooling around. Let’s get down to numbers because I know that’s what everyone cares about.

During my Whole30, I dropped two dress sizes and lost about nine pounds. I haven’t noticed any dramatic change as far as being stuffy all the time (still am) or having dumb break-outs on my face (still do). But my biggest change has been my attitude toward food. I enjoy making all my meals at home. I’m not relying on potato chips or peppermint patties to make me feel happy. Food made without preservatives and added sugar tastes better to me now.  And seriously, go back and look at that cookie again, versus the cookie picture from 30 days ago.

IT LOOKS THE SAME. Any of the foods permitted under the Whole30 diet would shrivel up and get rotten if you left it in a desk drawer for 30 days. Think of what you’re putting into your body when you eat something that doesn’t go bad after 30 days in a desk.

The Husband had even more impressive numbers than I did. He moved down two notches in his belt and lost 16.5 pounds. He is incredible.

So over the next few days I’ll be enjoying some of the foods (read: all of the foods) I didn’t eat over the last 30 days. Expect some serious food porn on my Instagram feed. Next week, we’re getting back to it. I’ll have lots of new recipes and fun kitchen adventures, and maybe even a few healthy restaurant reviews.

One last thing. I really want to say a great big thank you to everyone who has supported me during my Whole30. I have wonderful friends who have checked in on me, offered encouragement, given me a few insider Whole30 tips and helped me avoid temptation. I have a few others who waived temptation right in my face, but even that helped me realize that I’m stronger than I was before. The food no longer controls me; I control the food.

The first time I ran the L.A. Marathon, while waiting in the hours before dawn at Dodger Stadium, I was gathered with my training group huddling and stretching until it was time to line up and run. One guy in our group, a veteran marathoner who had run every race from Boston to New York, could see how nervous I was.

“Just make it to Mile 24,” he told me. “If you make it to Mile 24, you’re going to finish.”

As anyone who has run a marathon will understand, there is a feeling that comes over you when you get to Mile 24. Everything hurts and you want to die. You’re tired, thirsty, and no matter what kind of shoes you’re wearing and how much you paid for them, your feet are killing you. And yet, your brain knows that you’re going to live to cross that finish line. That lone brainwave is the only thing keeping your feet moving forward.

Left foot: The finish line is just around the bend. Right foot: You can do it. Left foot: Keep moving. Right foot: You’re almost done.

When I woke up this morning, I felt like I was at Mile 24. I was hungry and low on energy. I allowed myself to watch Tasty videos on how to make adorable polar bear marshmallow hot chocolate drinks. I focused on trying not to drool on myself while doing so.

On Day 7, I wasn’t convinced I’d make it through 30 days without cheating. Doing a Whole10 sounded like a good enough amount of time to teach me a good lesson. I lost my mind on Day 25. But here I am, at Day 30. That finish line is in sight.

To wrap up my Whole30, I’m going to share another easy and budget-friendly dinner you can make in minutes. And I’m not even going to think about how much I would love to wrap it up in a tortilla.

Steak or chicken fajitas make a great weeknight meal.  If you have literally no time at all, most markets sell a pre-marinated mix of cut meat with chopped peppers and onions that, all you have to do is throw in a pan. It’s hard to trust what’s in that marinade, though. I feel like it’s a safer, not to mention, cheaper option to just buy the ingredients and DIY.

If you’re going the chicken route, buy the cheaper chicken tenders and slice them into strips before cooking. For red meat fans, you can buy skirt steak and slice it like you would the chicken. Or, you can usually find pre-sliced steak that is labeled for use in a stir fry. I like this option, not just because I’m lazy and don’t like cutting my own steak, but because it’s cheaper, too.

You can also find fajita veggies (onions and bell pepper) already sliced in your produce department, with the pre-cut fruit. That will run you only a couple bucks more than just buying the veggies as nature intended. I also don’t like that option because it doesn’t give you much bang for your buck. I usually have to buy a couple in order to have enough veggies. (Leftovers. You’ve got to remember to plan for leftovers.) So just save money, and buy the real deal.

I priced out this dinner at just about $12 total.  Stir fry beef was about $7 for over a pound and the onion was 99 cents. Green bell peppers are usually cheaper than the red, orange and yellow, but I found mine on sale for 99 cents each. I got three total. I like to add a chopped jalapeño and minced garlic clove, for extra flavor. I might not be a math whiz, but I think that comes out to dirt cheap per serving. Keep that in mind the next time you order fajitas at your favorite Mexican restaurant. Guarantee you it’s more than $12.

Now, I’ve got a secret ingredient I like to use to add a little extra kick to anything spicy I’m making. From the Temecula Olive Oil Company, I use Fresh Jalapeño olive oil in place of traditional EVOO. It’s a little pricey, but a little goes a long way in the heat department. Like, a loooong way.

OK, set your timers for 5 minutes. Because that’s all the prep time you’ll need.

Put the sliced steak into a mixing bowl. Salt. Pepper. Chili pepper. Jalapeño olive oil. Mix it up and let it set.  (Note: If you’re one of those people who, you know, have time and do things like plan ahead, go ahead and do this in the morning before work. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and set it in the fridge for when you get home.)

Slice lengthwise one onion and three bell peppers. Don’t forget to scoop out the seeds from the pepper and all that white fleshy stuff inside because it’s just gross.

Do a few circles’ worth of Jalapeño olive oil in a large nonstick pan (large being the operative word, here). When it’s hot, onions go in first. Watch that flame, though, because you don’t want them to burn. When the onions start to get that nice sweaty translucent look, add your peppers. Use a rubber spatula to mix all the pretty colors around.

Last, create room on one side of the pan for your meat, and dump it in. Please, for the love of God, please don’t overcook your steak (like I might have done). It will get tough and hard to chew (not that I’d know). And then you’ll actually have to use a knife and be civilized, and ain’t nobody got time for that. To avoid overcooking, turn that heat up on the pan again, and get it brown quickly. You’re looking for a quick sear on all sides, and this won’t take long.

Once all your steak is browned mix it up well with the veggies. Toss, toss and plate. Serve it with some pico de gallo or homemade guac. And pretend you’re wrapping it all up in a warm, soft flour tortilla.

Holy cow. This was one of those weekends when I need a weekend to recover from my weekend. Spent Saturday morning at an Earth Day event picking up trash out of the L.A. River, and then Sunday I helped my mom clean out her garage to prep for a yard sale next weekend. It all added up to a lot of manual labor followed by a lot of time recovering by binge-watching season 5 of Game of Thrones before the new season premiere last night.

Again, holy cow – if you saw it, you’ll know what I’m talking about.

Where I went right this weekend:

The Husband and I have a long-standing tradition of making a big celebratory dinner for the first Game of Thrones of the season. We try to make it something they would eat on the show. He was in charge of last night’s feast, and he outdid himself with a little dish he called “Fleabottom Bowl of Brown.” It was a Whole30 compliant beef stew he came up with on his own, and it hit the spot. The only this we were missing was our wine. Tyrion Lannister would have been truly disappointed.

Where I went wrong:

Despite all my activities this weekend, I still fell short of my step goal both days. I averaged around 7,000 steps per day. It probably wouldn’t have taken much to get those extra steps – a quick walk around my neighborhood would have done it.

We had our eyes on the prize this weekend, and stayed focused on Day 30 being around the corner. But, I felt like we dwelled a little too much on thinking about how everything would have been better with something NOT allowed by our diet. Example: After the river cleanup, we both were dying to go with our friends to Golden Road Brewery and just spend the rest of the day drinking beer and hanging out. Talking about it over and over made it so much harder to focus on the main event itself. And, after eating the beef stew, all I could think about was how it could have been even better with a big ol’ glass of merlot (don’t judge me) and some crusty bread to soak up the juices at the bottom of the bowl.

Goals for this week:

Make it to Wednesday. Come onnnnn, Wednesday.

No seriously, I’m looking forward to a little freedom after Whole30 is over. But, I’m also afraid of going nuts and undoing all the good I’ve accomplished. Seems to be the outcome of every diet I’ve ever done. Which is why we started thinking of this not as a diet, but how we’d like to eat from here on out. Just with a little more flexibility. I’ve realized I don’t miss sugar at all and I could eat like this quite happily as long as I could enjoy a glass of wine with dinner or a nice cocktail at the end of the week.

I’m wearing a pair of jeans today that 27 days ago wouldn’t fit over my ass, let alone zip up.

They aren’t one, but two sizes smaller than the size of my Mercy Jeans that I acquired just prior to starting Whole30.

Look, I know. I’ve bitched a lot. I’ve lost my mind a few times. I’ve complained more than I care to admit. And in four days from now, at 11:59 p.m., I’m gonna be poppin’ some bottles to celebrate being done with this.

But today, I’m wearing my skinny jeans. And they’re not uncomfortable. So was this past month worthwhile?

Ask me again on Wednesday.

In the meantime, I’ve got another yummy Whole30 dinner for you, along with another of my trademark valuable lessons learned.

I made meatballs again. And, in keeping with this week’s apparent theme, they didn’t come out as good as they did the first time. At least I was able to figure out why they didn’t.

Kids, when you make meatballs, you need to use ground meat with a little fat. I’m not saying the 80/20 bargain bin bullshit. But don’t use the 99% Fat Free I’m So Much Better Than You Because I’m Extra Lean Ground Turkey. If you do, they’re going to come out dry, like mine did. If you still insist on being a fat free ground meat snob, make sure you have some all natural nothing added snobby applesauce on hand to go with it, because that’s what saved my meatballs from joining my mayo in failure hell.

The other redeeming feature in this meal was my Whole30 compliant mashed potatoes – recipe invented by yours truly. I tackled the potatoes first, because a) they are easier to keep warm, and 2) making the meatballs is an action-packed process that requires a lot of attention. Just like me.

First thing you want to do is get a pot of water on the stove and get it to boiling. I hate forgetting to do this ahead of time -- then I’m halfway through with cooking and have to stop and wait for water to boil.

Peel your potatoes and cut them into halves or quarters, depending on size. They’ll cook more evenly and quickly this way. Plop them into the boiling water, and set your timer for 10 minutes. They might take longer. When you can stick a fork in ‘em easily, they’re done. Don’t cook them to the point that your fork breaks them apart. Then your mashed potatoes turn into mush potatoes, and nobody likes that.

While the potatoes are boiling, put all the meatball ingredients into a bowl. One pound of ground meat, one beaten egg, onion, S&P, oregano, and I like to use a little almond flour (about ¼ cup) to give them some oomph. Using your hands, mush everything up together. Here, it’s OK to mush. You can use those plastic cafeteria gloves if this step grosses you out. But just remember this makes you a weenie and everyone will laugh at you.

When the potatoes are ready, drain the water and get out your potato masher. Time to work out some of that stress. You’re going to add in, one at a time, some ghee or clarified butter, canned coconut milk, and chicken broth. Depending on how many potatoes you use, these amounts will differ. I used two giant potatoes, about 2 tablespoons of ghee, about ¼ cup of coconut milk, and 1/3 cup of broth. First add your ghee and let it melt while you mash it in with the potatoes. Then add the coconut milk, and mash again. Finally, add the broth a couple tablespoons at a time and mash mash mash away until it reaches the right consistency. You’ll know when it’s there.

I got fancy and added some chopped chives to mine.

Back to your meatballs. Heat some oil in a NONSTICK pan – that’s super important – and roll your mushy meat concoction into golf ball sized balls. And here, don’t be like me. Actually roll them. I just kinda picked up meat and shaped it, thus my meatballs look more like meatcubes. Put them in the pan, and rotate every minute or so to brown on each side. Have a baking sheet ready and lined with parchment paper. When the meatballs are browned, line them up on your baking sheet and finish them in the oven for about 6-7 minutes.

Et, voilà. Meatballs and mashed potatoes. Super good yummy comfort food to get you through your last week of Whole30.

Got a little bit of bad news yesterday. Both of the offers we submitted for houses last week were rejected. Seriously, who are these people making all-cash offers over asking price? How are we supposed to compete with that? Who has half a million dollars in cash just lying around anyway? And if you do, why the hell would you want to live in Reseda, of all places?

<<deep breath>>

As you might infer, I’m a little disappointed. But, I also was expecting it, so it wasn’t completely devastating. I took the news pretty well, and tried to muster up enthusiasm for going back to square one and checking out the latest on Redfin and Zillow. That lasted about 10 minutes before I was just over it.

I take solace in knowing that it’s not just us who find it difficult (read: impossible) to buy a home in this market. Still, it makes me feel pretty crummy. I’ve had some pretty sharp peaks and valleys when it comes to my self-worth and self-confidence over the years. I can honestly say that nothing has made me feel as much of a miserable failure in life as this home-buying process has.

When I finally left the office, I had one of those commutes where every asshole on the 5 freeway decided it was ok to cut me off. I hit every single red light. I had to stop at the store, and a shithead stole my parking space as I was about to pull in to it. Got in the shortest line behind the s-l-o-w-e-s-t old lady who, of course, paid in cash – with exact change.

You can imagine I’m reaching the end of my rope here.

The Husband said he would handle dinner for us. He was taking a stab at a salmon cakes recipe out of the Whole30 book. The note at the bottom of the page said it paired well with the tartar sauce recipe, made from their basic mayo.

For any newcomers, the Whole30 basic mayo was the first Whole30 recipe I made and it was a smash hit. I was so happy with it. Easy to make, tasted great, saved my lunches for the first 10 days. I haven’t made any since I ran out of my first batch, so while he made the salmon cakes, I took on the mayo so we’d have a nice little sauce on the side.

One egg, one-half teaspoon of mustard powder, one teaspoon of salt and a quarter of a cup of olive oil all went into the standing mixer. I flipped it on, and it started to combine.

And then, it just kinda did nothing.

I seemed to remember it looking a little less liquidy the first time. But oh well. Let’s just keep going.

Started to drizzle in my one cup of olive oil. Little bit at a time. Little bit. Little. Bit.

Only difference was MORE of the liquid. Not thickening. At all.

Do I stop? No! Persevere! Keep going! It will start to emulsify.

Have I mentioned it’s 7:45 p.m. at this point, the salmon cakes are just about ready, and we’re both starving?

Entire cup of olive oil is mixed in. It’s the same consistency. Much more yellow than I remember it looking the first time.

At this point, a person in their right mind might step back and think, “OK, clearly this isn’t working out. You’re hungry and tired and very stressed out. Just stop and enjoy the cakes by themselves.”

I wasn’t in my right mind.

I went back to the recipe and saw the direction that said your egg needed to be at room temperature in order for this to work. Forgot all about that. No wonder. A tip said that if you’re pressed for time (story of my life) you can put the egg in a bowl of hot water for five minutes and then it would work.

Second egg comes out of the fridge and goes into a bowl of hot water. I remove the first failed batch from the mixer and pour it into a mason jar. All I can think about at this point is that a bottle of olive oil costs $15 and I just wasted about $3 worth. I can’t throw this away. I can save this somehow.

I start the second batch. Egg is warmed to room temp, everything else is good to go. I’ve re-read the complete instructions for the recipe about four times. It’s now 8 p.m. and the salmon cakes are out of the oven. The Husband, the most patient man on the Earth, is waiting for me to get this mayo right.

I add the first ingredients. It looks slightly thicker this time. I’m hopeful.

I crank the mixer up to top speed and begin to slowly drizzle in the olive oil.

Same. Exact. Results.

Not thickening. Not getting lighter in color. Not working. Not happening.

And I start losing my mind.

There is ugly crying, and then there is what unfolded for me last night.

My face got hot, tears welled up in my eyes and streamed down my face. I’ve wasted $6 worth of olive oil, about 45 minutes, made my loving husband wait for mayo that never happened, ruined dinner by crying, and above all, I can’t buy a house.

At that point, realizing that my brain had long stopped working, The Husband literally handed me my plate of three salmon cakes, turned off all the lights in the kitchen and walked me over to sit down and fucking eat. And I cried the entire time.

I think it’s fair to say that our home offer rejections affected me more than I realized. I rode that bus way past Discouraged, past Disillusionment, straight into Crazy Town.

After we ate, I went back and poured the second failed batch into the jar with the first one. It’s in my fridge as we speak. I’m going to find a way to use it if it kills me.

P.S. The salmon cakes came out really good, in case anyone is wondering. And I married the greatest man on the planet.

Get your filthy mind out of the gutter. 

I’m talking about healthy lunches you can make in mere minutes. No more excuses for going out. Not that you can, because you’re on Whole30 and no restaurant is safe, apparently. 

My awesome parents felt my pain about how tired I was getting of cooking all the time. So they invited us over for dinner, and promised to cook everything per our guidelines. We had grilled yellowtail, roasted sweet potatoes and steamed veggies. All were seasoned only with olive oil and a little S&P. And it was delicious. I would have taken a picture, but I ate it too quickly. 

After dinner I realized the only downside of not cooking for myself was that I had no leftovers to pack for my lunch the next day. We didn’t have anything prepped at home, either. Crap. 

Decided to make my go-to tuna salad, but also realized that I didn’t have any Whole30 mayo already made. Double crap. Decided to make some, but then realized we were low on olive oil. Crappity crap crap crap. 

It just wasn’t my night. 

The Husband had a genius idea: substitute avocado for mayo with my tuna. 

So I did. And it is Y-U-M-M-Y. 

Five-Ingredient Tuna Salad

1 Can of Solid White Tuna in Water, drained  1 Avocado 1/4 c. chopped onion 2 stalks celery, chopped Juice of 1/2 lemon (and some pretty little lettuce pieces on the side, if you’re feeling fancy, but that makes it a six-ingredient dish and that just doesn’t sound as easy so I’m leaving it out)

Directions: Mix. 

I make mistakes on a regular basis. Like, it would be fair to say that I do something dumb pretty much every day.

Here’s some proof:

Yep. I forgot that I put a Tupperware on top of our oven and then turned it on. Whoops.

In the last week or so, I’ve burned my finger, gotten my leg caught in the chair at my hair stylist’s salon, packaged up leftovers but forgot to put them away in the fridge, melted that Tupperware lid, and about a dozen other really dumb things.

Here’s the take-away: I’m never going to not make mistakes. The important thing is to learn from them, and to learn how to recover and rebound when you do make them.

This time yesterday, I was about halfway through writing a blog post about how The Husband and I found a few restaurants we could order food from and still eat within the rules of Whole30. We’ve done this exactly three times in 23 days, which is a HUGE improvement from how often we were eating out prior to starting Whole30. The first of these three times, we got salads from Chipotle.

I had done a little research on Paleo diet-friendly restaurants, and what you could order at each one. No, Whole30 and Paleo are not the same thing, but they are the closest you can get when comparing most nutrition guidelines. Y’all don’t know how excited I was when I saw Chipotle on the list. Salad, no dressing, double chicken, pico and guac. Yes, please!

I told The Husband and he was as excited as I had been. We made big plans for a Friday night “date night” that included a little Chipotle action and binge-watching the last season of Game of Thrones before the new season starts. (HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS IT STARTS THIS SUNDAY. CAN. NOT. WAIT.)

We were standing in line for about 15 minutes, it seemed, and The Husband asked me if we could have the fajita veggies. I told him I didn’t think so, but I wasn’t positive. He got out his phone and looked it up. No dice – the fajita veggies are grilled using rice bran oil, a Whole30 no-no.

I have to take a quick second here to applaud Chipotle for the transparency of their website. You can find out every ingredient that goes in to every item on their menu. They have a whole page dedicated to allergen information. Their nutrition calculator allows you to basically build your meal and find out fat, sodium, carbs and protein info before stuffing a 1,600 calorie burrito in your face. I wish more chain restaurants took this website as their model.

Fast forward to yesterday, when I’m sitting here typing, retelling this same story. I couldn’t remember what kind of oil they used that made the veggies off-limits. So, I pulled up the Chipotle website … and discovered they use rice bran oil to cook their chicken, too.

WHAT.

THE.

HELL.

Alright. So, there goes that one. I deleted the entire post, said a few choice words, and beat myself up a little for not doing my homework beforehand.

I consulted my Whole30 book last night, to see what they recommend doing if you slip up. Was it deliberate? No. Is it a food that I would eat emotionally or for comfort? Absolutely not. (If I’m eating rice bran oil as my comfort food, I’ve got other problems.) And in my opinion, it wasn’t one of the major criminal offenses. It wasn’t sugar, dairy or alcohol.

So, the big question, am I going to start my Whole30 all over because I ate something cooked in rice bran oil?

Um, FUCK no.

If I was eating Chipotle chicken three or four times a week and getting double meat on each order, I might acknowledge the need to push reset. But honestly, if chicken (that they brag about being “responsibly raised”) is the worst thing I eat in 30 days, I’ll be just fine.

Last night, when The Husband got home from the gym, I told him about my discovery.

“Love, I have something I need to tell you.”

“Uh-oh.” Something you have to know about him: Not only does he have incredible willpower, but he is a rule-follower, to the letter. Two traits I find very appealing in a husband.

I broke it to him easy: “You remember when we had Chipotle last week? And how you looked up the fajita veggies and found out they were cooked in rice bran oil? Well, I don’t know how to tell you this … but … so is the chicken.”

“Yeah, I know.”

WHAT?? “You knew?? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“We were already in line.”

Yep.

I am officially at the point where I am dreaming about food. Cupcakes, specifically, that I baked myself and taste like heaven in the form of spongy chocolate cake and vanilla buttercream frosting.

Send help. Soon.

Less than 10 days to go, and I’m just barely hanging. I’d love to report that, hey, it’s gotten so much easier to say no to yummy things and not even think about all I’m missing out on. It’s actually just about the opposite.

The Husband and I are so over cooking. Every recipe just seems boring. Granted, we have a lot of side stress building as we are making offers on TWO houses this week (so much adulting happening over here!!!) and it is taking a toll on our energy levels.

Full disclosure: We’ve already planned our first meal out for Day 31. It involves wine.

Where I went right this weekend:

Found an awesome manager’s special on 99% fat free ground turkey at our local Sprouts Market. Picked up four packages, and froze one to have on hand. Each package weighed about a pound, and they were all less than $4 per package. Win!

Where I went wrong:

Aside from dreaming of cupcakes, the fruit cravings have been real. I’m eating a lot of dates and sliced pineapple, and usually after dinner at “dessert time.” Probably reinforcing some real bad habits there, but in light of everything, I figured I could give myself a pass on this one.

Goals for this week:

My sexy AF husband cooked dinner for us last night. So I got to take a day off from cooking. It was glorious. Better yet, he made the most deeelish pot of chili. See?

Since that leaves me with no new kitchen adventures to report on, I’m going to take this opportunity to address an issue that’s been on my mind for a while now. I hate to bring the mood down, but it’s time for some serious talk.

Serious trash talk.

OK, OK, maybe that’s too harsh. Just consider the following a Public Service Announcement. If you belong to a gym, or take fitness classes, or belong to a running group of some kind, you’re gonna feel me on this one.

There are a few people at the gym who you just don’t want to be. They are the ones who get side-eyed by everyone else who is giving 110 percent and putting every last drop of energy into it. Even trainers and coaches hate them. If you think you’re one of them, just stop and don’t.

First, and realllly the most annoying, is the Wooo Girl. There you are, not five minutes into your workout, sweating your ass off and hating life. And there she is, having the time of her goddam life. You’re grimacing. She’s smiling like she goin’ to Disneyland. You’re grunting. And every 30 seconds, she yells “WOOOOOOOO!”

If only it were legal to punch people straight in the face.

This isn’t a high school football game, and you’re not the quarterback’s cheerleader girlfriend, bitch. Quit being so peppy. Do you hear anyone around you cheering along? NO, ya don’t. Now STFU and work harder, because clearly you’re not pushing yourself hard enough. If you were, you’d be as miserable and quiet as the rest of us.

The male counterpart of the Wooo Girl is The Grunter. He’s sweating his balls off a foot away from you, and all you hear is a throaty grunt during every rep. Bicep curls: “Uhhh, uhhh, uhhh, uhhh.”

And he’s only using the 20 lb. weights.

Hey, buddy: If we wanted to know what you sound like when you’re having sex, we’d sleep with you. You’re at the gym. In public. There could be children around, for Christ’s sake. Knock it off.

Finally, we’ve got Up in Da Club Girl. You know the one. She’s easy to spot. It’s 5:30 am and she’s wearing a crop top and lip gloss. You deserve a medal for brushing your teeth before you left the house, and her hair looks like a Pinterest ponytail win.

Look, if you’re hitting up 24-Hour Fitness after work, then great. Do your thing. Wear them booty shorts. Hint: Bros love it when you ask them to help you with your form. Go get ’em.  But if you’re dragging your ass out of bed at the crack of dawn to work out next to women wearing sweatpants and T-shirts and active wear made from moisture-wicking material that serves a purpose, please please please PLEASE wear a shirt long enough to hide your underboob. I don’t care how good you look, and guess what: NOBODY ELSE DOES EITHER. We are all here to accomplish one task: To look as good as you do, you little hussy. And newsflash: Even if I did look as good as you, I wouldn’t wear that kind of thing to a 5:30 am bootcamp that has literally three dudes in it and they’re all married. Seeing you dressed like that is not motivating; it’s not giving us aspirations and hopes and dreams. It’s making 50 women old enough to be your mother (or much older sister) hate your guts.

Oh, man.

I can’t tell you guys how GREAT it feels to finally get that off my chest. PHEW! It’s like this massive weight has been lifted.

I might have mentioned once or twice that The Husband and I have started looking to buy a house. Anyone who has tried to do this in the last year or so will feel my pain. In Los Angeles, it is impossible to buy a move-in ready house unless you are independently wealthy. Impossible.

The fact that we began this process around the same time we decided to begin our Whole30 was both brilliant and disastrous. Brilliant, because if I was not limiting myself to what food I was eating, I probably would have gained about 10 pounds in the last two weeks from stress eating and drinking until I felt like less of a financial failure. Disastrous, because by the end of our second week, The Husband and I were on each other’s nerves like no one’s business and taking all our stress out on one another.

He worked all day Saturday, while I did some cleaning and food shopping. I had a vision of me cooking a wonderful dinner for him so that the house smelled yummy when he came home after a hard day’s work and then the two of us sitting at the table and enjoying every delicious bite.

What happened instead is that food shopping took me about two hours. That is a major downside of Whole30 -- having to read labels on everything. I chalk that up to being a newbie. I’m sure it gets better when you’re on Day 28 or doing it for a second or third time. (I don’t wanna!)

By the time I got home, he was already there and was playing his video games. I got annoyed because there was a sink full of dishes and I couldn’t cook because the kitchen was a mess and the table was covered with all kinds of junk so we wouldn’t be able to sit and eat until it was cleared.

OK, time for some serious truth talk here. Who sits and eats at their dinner table every night? Or, at least, often? Our “dining” table has become a collect-all for junk mail, miscellaneous paper goods that don’t fit on shelves, that Ikea shelf I have been meaning to put up for a few months now, cans of cat food I’m too lazy to put away in the cabinet, Monopoly game pieces from Vons (we’re so gonna win!), and just about anything else you can imagine. We’ve been eating dinner from our couch while watching Jeopardy, just about every night since our honeymoon. It had been literal months since we ate at our table. Is that not normal?

Back to Saturday. I snipped at him for some help, and he snipped at me, and we were all set up to fight and have the whole night ruined. But somehow things steered themselves back on track and he did the dishes and cleared the table and I made one of our best dinners yet. And we got to sit at our table and eat it together. And we enjoyed each other’s company. It’s the closest thing to a date we’ve had while on this dumb diet. 

The Whole30 cookbook has a recipe for an herb and walnut encrusted pork tenderloin with mashed cauliflower “potatoes.” It’s phenomenal. And, even better, it’s easy. And, better yet, it’s relatively inexpensive. All the ingredients were less than $20 (not including pantry staples) and we got six meals out of it.

So here’s where my lack of professional training comes into play. When I opened the package of pork tenderloin, I was expecting one hunk of meat in kind of the shape of a log. But, there were two long slabs of meat. After a little research (i.e. Google) I’m still not sure that pork tenderloin is supposed to be like this. It initially threw me for a loop, but I remembered I had cooking twine (don’t ask why) and just tied them together. 

Another instance in which following directions probably helps. I had prepped everything for the recipe in advance, which means I chopped the walnuts before I started assembling everything. The directions tell you to season the meat with a spice rub, then chop your nuts and roll your meat in them to coat it. This recipe yields a whole heckuva lot of spice rub. I applied it allllll over, and had a ton left over. So when I went to roll it in the chopped nuts, they didn’t really stick. I think if you do the spice rub in advance, and let it set for a while, the nuts will stick better. When all was said and done, I had a ton of unused nuts. So many nuts. 

I have a few friends who just snorted reading that. I threw it in purely for their entertainment.

While the finished product came out tasting incredible, I know what I’ll do differently the next time I make this. Assuming I get a similar cut of meat, with two slabs, I would apply the spice rub to each piece and let is set for about 30 minutes. I would sprinkle chopped nuts on top of one piece, stack the other on top and tie them together. Then more nuts on top, and any extra spice rub to make a really tasty crust on top.

I cooked it per directions, measuring its temperature after 25 minutes. It needed more time, so just another 5 minutes got me to exactly 145°, right where the book said it should be.

While it was in the oven, I made the recipe for mashed cauliflower “potatoes.” It looks just like mashed potatoes. Bonus: Texture aside, it tastes just like mashed potatoes. Maybe even better. They were light and fluffy and I could eat them all day without feeling bad.

One note before you try them at home: The recipe calls for chicken broth. It’s not easy to find Whole30 compliant chicken broth, and when you do, it’s expensive. Lucky for me, last week we got a (Whole30 compliant) rotisserie chicken that we cut up for chicken salad. I used the carcass to make chicken bone broth (using another recipe in the Whole30 book). So, I was able to make the mashed cauliflower with made-from-scratch chicken broth. WHO THE HELL HAVE I BECOME??!?

For the pork tenderloin topping:

About 1/3 cup chopped walnuts Mustard powder Garlic powder Paprika S&P

For the cauliflower mash: 

One head cauliflower, cut into florets 2-3 Cloves garlic Ghee, or clarified butter Coconut cream Chicken broth Chopped parsley

Before starting out on this ridiculous Whole30 journey, our dinner routine was the same old thing week after week: Food shopping on Sunday night with the best of intentions. Chicken and veggies on Monday night. Turkey Taco Tuesdays. Wednesday would be more chicken and veggies. By the time Thursday came around, we’d be sick of cooking, so we’d get a little cheapie take-out. Friday Funday calls for dinner out and drinks. Then Saturday breakfast on the go, followed by a weekend of “Where should we go for lunch?” and “Where do you want to eat dinner?”

It was a vicious cycle.

One upside of Whole30 has been that we’re forced to try some new recipes and think outside the chicken-and-veggies box. If you’ve been following along, you’ve seen some of our new fav’s. The turkey meatballs  and loaded sweet potatoes are right up there. I haven’t even told y’all about The Husband’s chili he made last week.

Trying new recipes each night can be a little exhausting though. This is when it pays to have a staple, like my basic chicken and veggies.

You know that one go-to dish you have in your repetiore that you can make in your sleep? This is one of mine. (The other, in case you were wondering, is my mom’s chocolate chip cookies. But I’m not going to think about those sweet, crispy-on-the-outside, warm-and-gooey-on-the-inside, melt-in-your-mouth, better-than-anything-on-the-planet cookies.)  

Chicken and veggies is cheap, quick and easy. Just like me.

This meal is perfect if you’re pressed for time. The total cost is going to range depending on the quality of meat you buy and whether you’re buying frozen or fresh veggies, and whether they’re in season. You can go dirt cheap and get a pound of chicken tenders for about $4 and a bag of frozen veggies for another $2. On the higher end, you can buy the larger vegetarian-fed, no antibiotics, raised without hormones, fancy pants chicken breasts that Whole30 encourages, and that will run you about $10 or more for a pound and a half.

If you already know how to make basic chicken and veggies, there is no need to read any further. Unless you like a good joke about large breasts. That’s going to happen. But, if you don’t know shit about dick when it comes to cooking, I invite you to read on.

Disclaimer: This is not a recipe. This is my own personal method. And I’m not professional trained to work in a kitchen. (Obviously.)

To make chicken and veggies, you only need about 30 minutes max. Turn on your oven to about 400° and get out one large nonstick pan and one oven-safe pan. You’re also going to want a good pair of tongs.

Start with prepping your veggies. This process is going to depend on what you’re working with, obviously. For this example, I’m using Brussels sprouts. You want to buy the tiny ones; they’re more tender. The large bulbous ones are a little rough to eat. I like to cut off the stem part as much as possible and then halve them. Get some kind of fat (either olive or coconut oil works best here) going in your nonstick pan and swirl that puppy around. Once it’s hot, place the sprout halves flat-side down in the pan. All of them. When there’s no more room left, just throw them all on top. Everybody in the pool.

A package of pre-cut butternut squash is a great compliment to Brussels sprouts and adds another level to a basic chicken and veggies dinner. They will get squishy fast, so don’t be in a rush to add these. In fact, if you want to redirect your attention to the chicken and then come back, that will work just fine.

You’re probably wondering about seasoning at this point. This is my only “trick” when it comes to chicken and veggies. I don’t even know that it’s a trick. More like a guideline. 

I used to date this guy whose mom told him he should never date a girl who didn’t wear panties that matched her bra. (We broke up.) Apply this rule to your chicken and veggies: Whatever seasoning you put on the bird, you put on the veggies.

This helps change your dish up. If you’re using peppers and onions, go for some chili powder, paprika and fresh garlic. If you’re using asparagus, lemon pepper and fresh lemon juice is perfect. For Brussels sprouts and butternut squash, I like something a little more savory, like dried rosemary and thyme. No matter your combo, you’re always going to start with kosher salt and black pepper. If you don’t have a pepper grinder, no bigs. If you do, mazel tov.  

So you’ve got your veggies in the pan and your chicken out on the board. Salt, all the way around. Pepper. Sprinkle that thyme all over. Take about a tablespoon of rosemary in the palm of your hand and use your fingers to grind them down, then you can throw that on top. I’ve learned to use rosemary conservatively. It’s lovely, but very powerful. Just like me.

Your seasoning is done, time to get that bird on the stove. Put your choice of fat or oil (remember, matchy matchy) in the oven-safe pan. When it’s hot, GENTLY lay down each breast so you don’t get oil splatter. This here is very important: Once you’ve put the chicken in the pan, DON’T TOUCH IT.

DON’T poke at it.

DON’T push it around.

DON’T try to lift it up.

What you’re trying to do is brown one side real good, then you’ll flip it and brown the other side real good. How do you know when it’s time to flip it? When you can use your tongs to pick up the breast and it lifts up without sticking. But you just told me not to try to lift it up…?   I know. Life’s a bitch, isn’t it?

Keep an eye on how long one side takes before you can flip it. However much time it took to cook the first side is a good measure for how long you should leave it on the other side, but I generally give it a minute or two less. You’re going to take the pan at this point and put it in the oven, so it will continue to brown on that side while it’s cooking.

The amount of time these stay in the oven depends on how large your breasts are (HEEYY-O!). If you’re using tenders, you are going to skip putting it in the oven entirely because they’re so small and pathetic they’ll cook on the stovetop and finish in no time. If you have large breasts, like me (winky winky), you’ll want to cook them between 20 and 25 minutes, including the time they spent stovetop. 

The tricky part is that chicken is one of those things you definitely don’t want to undercook, but you also reallllly don’t want to overcook. Dried chicken is awful. But so is food poisoning. This is why God invented meat thermometers. Use this to tell when your chicken is done. This being said, I will tell you that every time I’ve cooked chicken until it was ready by my meat thermometer’s standards, it came out drier than a Christmas tree in March.

Bobby Flay, if you’re reading this, I love you but please don’t read what I’m about to say. To make sure the chicken is done, I will usually take a knife and cut into one of the thickest parts of the breasts. If it’s pink, it’s not ready yet. No pink? Time to eat. You will lose some of the juice by doing this, but it’s better to be safe than vomiting.  So there you go. Chicken and veggies. It’s so easy, even I can do it. 

Holy shit, you guys.

I’m at the halfway point! FIFTEEN DAYS and I’m done with Whole30.

Last week was rough, I’m not gonna lie. There were a few moments between Thursday and Saturday where I just wanted to pop open a bottle and drink myself happy again. I wanted to run into Menchie’s and just bury my face in a giant cup of frozen yogurt. I wanted to grab the donut straight from my co-worker’s hand and shove it in my mouth.

You get the picture. I’m pretty sure The Husband was ready to file for divorce by Saturday morning. 

Where I went right this weekend:

A few things saved my life over the past day or so. I battled the craving to hit up a Mexican restaurant and eat all the chips and all the guac and drink all the margaritas by making my own guac at home, and buying and cutting a jicama to sub as chips to dip in the guac. It was surprisingly delicious and definitely hit the spot. Also, we treated ourselves to buying an 8-pack of La Croix sparkling water. It was a nice change from regular water, and it made it feel like I was treating myself to a fancy cocktail.

We also tried a few new Whole30 recipes that were ah-mah-zing. Details to come.

Where I went wrong:

In addition to not getting any workouts in this weekend, we made bacon for breakfast both Saturday and Sunday morning. It was Whole30 compliant bacon, but bacon nonetheless. I can’t help but feel a twinge guilty for over-indulging.

Goals for this week:

I felt so low on energy last week that I didn’t feel like I really pushed myself to accomplish much activity. I know I only made my Fitbit-mandated 10,000 steps once or twice. Goal for this week is to get more steps in, and make it to my morning bootcamp every day. I need to keep my activity up in order to really get more results from this.

Oh, restaurants.

How great are restaurants?? Not even fancy ones, but just plain ol’ restaurants.

It’s so comforting to know there is a place you can go at the end of a long day of work, where you can sit down and relax and tell someone what you want to eat. Then minutes later, they bring it to you and all you have to do is eat and enjoy. When you’re done, you just pay and get up and leave. No work. No dirty dishes. No risk of burning your food (or yourself) or making a disastrous mistake in your kitchen. Everything is taken care of for you.

God, I miss restaurants.

Nine days into our Whole30, The Husband and I are getting real sick of cooking. Honestly, I think the biggest challenge hasn’t been dealing with missing out on junk food, but rather having to cook every single meal. We’re running out of steam.

Million dollar idea for some Silverlake fitness hipster with time and money to spare: Open up a Whole30 restaurant. I’ll be there three times a week and I’ll hug you after every meal.

There is a restaurant close to our apartment that we both especially miss. It’s an upscale Argentinian place called Malbec. Their chimichurri sauce is the stuff a flank steak’s dreams are made of. I drive past it each morning on my commute to work, so I’ve been especially feeling it the last few days.

The other night, when it was time to play “What’s for dinner?” I was really craving some flavor. We had bought a package of sirloin strips at the market that was 30% off because its sell-by date was approaching. (Note: This is one of my favorite ways to eat healthy on a budget. If you know you’ll use it right away, get the discounted good meat at the market. Saves at least a few bucks each time.)

Flipping through our Whole 30 cookbook, I found a recipe for chimichurri steak kabobs and we had all the veggies needed. While I didn’t have the ingredients or the time to make the actual chimichurri sauce from the recipe, we bought a jar of it from a winery in Temecula a few weeks ago. Gods be good, it was Whole30 compliant.

We marinated the beef in about half the jar’s worth of sauce while we soaked the wooden skewers in water and cut up all the veggies. Assembling the kabobs took the longest time, but it was also really fun. I like playing with food.

In an ideal world, we would have grilled the kabobs out on the barbecue. However, we haven’t filled the propane tank yet for grilling season. I had to do my best using a grill pan over the stove, and it actually worked pretty well.

I personally like my beef on the rare side, so I just cooked the kabobs on a higher heat to get a nice char on the outside before finishing them on a baking sheet in the oven at about 375°. When they were done, I served them with a drizzle of the remaining chimichurri sauce. 

This would go really good with some rice or diced potatoes. Or a nice crusty bread to soak up all the sauce and juices.

Mmmmmmmbread.