I don’t know a lot about the paleo diet, nor am I following it – just trying to eat healthy – but all the paleo recipes I’ve found have knocked my socks off, along with a few pounds. I know that “paleo gluten free zucchini lasagna with ground turkey” sounds like a sick joke a mom would play on her macaroni-loving kiddos, but after building this dish from Betty Rocker layer by layer, I could not wait to get it out of the oven and into my belleh. Not as good as mac ‘n’ cheese, but way better than meatloaf and a teeny tiny 260 calories per serving.
Ingredients:
3-4 yellow + green zucchini (I used 5 small-ish green zucchinis)
3-4 cups assorted greens (baby spinach, arugula, kale – I used baby spinach and fresh basil leaves)
Get the step-by-step instructions from Betty Rocker. And maybe if you eat this you can have abs like hers?
Of note: when it came out it was a little soupy – zucchini has a ton of water in it. But. I put it in the fridge over night and the slices came out much cleaner the next day (sounds like real lasagna, does it not?). I’d also recommend adding more meat than the recipe calls for. Give it a try and let me know with you think!
Moms don’t get enough credit. I know mine doesn’t. So in honor of Mother’s Day this weekend, I’m going to give credit where credit is due.
I live on the opposite side of the state as my mother, so it’s not like we grab lunch together every week or go get pedicures when one of us has a bad day. We don’t even talk on the phone every week, and sometimes I get mad when she texts me (mostly because Siri is a terrible translator and my mom is a technology R-word). Sometimes I hang up on her when she burps into the phone. She sure knows how to push my buttons. But isn’t that what moms are for?
We may not see eye-to-eye on everything, and she may not be perfect, but that’s okay. Because we’re not supposed to and neither am I (I had you fooled, huh?). My mom is one amazing lady. When I sit back and think about it, her well-roundedness totally impresses me. She’s extremely bright, especially when it comes to real estate, finance, and politics; she’s the reason I’m a cake snob (read: excellent cook/baker/entertainer); Bohemian Rhapsody flows effortlessly from her fingers on the piano; she knows more about roses than Jackson & Perkins (read: former Master Gardener); her photographs from around the world are Nat Geo worthy; she swims like erry day (I can’t even get in one lap without almost drowning or suffocating); she can chug a beer faster than you (and my ex-boyfriend); and her nickname is Dancing Donna. Oh yeaaaaah.
Am I missing anything? Oh, right. She puts up with me. I’m a big brat. And she loves me in spite of it. So. Because I know she’s reading this… mom, I love you. Thank you for everything. Have a very happy Mother’s Day, and I’m so sorry I can’t be there. You are wonderful even though I don’t always make you feel that way. Smooches!
You’re going to think I’m crazy. But I made a pizza with cauliflower crust. It sounds gross, but it was actually crazy good and crazy good for you. And I would never lie about something this important. Yes, I said it. There is such a thing as healthy pizza. I’ll prove it to you innaminute.
So, I was craving pizza like whoa, but didn’t want to undo all the hard work I’ve been putting in at the gym. But I still really wanted pizza! Such a conundrum. I almost caved with a hot ‘n’ ready, but no. Google search: pizza alternatives (fingers and toes crossed something like this exists). Woo hoo! It does. In the form of a delicious, nutritious vegetable. And let me tell you, this cauliflower pizza crust recipe is almost too good to be true. My love of dough could never be replaced, but gluten intolerance be damned, if my stomach ever gets evicted from the bottom floor of the food pyramid, my life could go on because of this pizza recipe. You must try it. And then not feel guilty for eating a whole pizza pie. It’s amore!
One slice of this pizza (as prepared with low-fat mozzarella, canadian bacon, pineapple, and jalapeños) = 182 calories, 16g protein, 11g carbohydrates, 9g fat, and 3g sugar. Compare that to one slice of DiGiorno Supreme Pizza (what I usually eat) = 350 calories, 16g protein, 40g carbohydrates, 15g fat, and 6g sugar.
I have this terrible tendency of buying completely impractical dresses. It could have been any number of details that attracted me to this funky electro pop dress… the neon eyelash lace, the pleated tulle peplum, the cut-out back straps, or the flirty shape. All together they seem like they could be too much, but I don’t care. I’m perfectly okay with being impractical while wearing neon.
Do you ever have those weeks where you’re just flat out exhausted? Okay, good. Glad I’m not alone. That’s how this week has been for me. The word “fatigued” is an understatement. I’ve been in need of some serious mood boosters, and since I gave up dessert for the month of May, my go-to cupcake isn’t an option.
Here are five mood boosters I’ve tried this week (and you can, too). It’s amazing how a few little things can make such a big impact.
Pay a visit to your local humane society and pet some kittens. Better yet? Volunteer to walk a dog or adopt a new pet. I’m this close to getting Rory a furry little feline friend.
Sign up for a fitness class. I hate group fitness because I’m uncoordinated and would rather not subject others to my daily dose of jogger farts. But I signed up for an 8-week body transformation class with a few friends anyway (hopefully there’s no jogging). If you live in the Spokane area, check out White Room Fit.
Fall in love with a new TV character. Maybe love isn’t the right word, because Don Draper is hardly lovable, but digging into a new series like Mad Men can help clear your head and pave the way for divine couch-potatohood. Nothing like a Netflix marathon to help you unwind.
Pay it forward. Seems simple enough, but it’s tried and true. Foot the bill for the coffee customer behind you and you’ll feel instantly happy. I promise.
Eat a cupcake! Sorry, I had to say it. Or reward yourself with something. Buy a new dress or go get a pedicure. All three of these things are sure to send a few squirts of dopamine through your pretty little head. And everyone deserves a treat sometimes.
What do you do when you need a quick pick-me-up? And please don’t say you go running… it will hurt my feelings.
I hope your little piggies are ready to race because it is officially sandal season!
This summer’s sandal trends include rainbow bright hues, leather straps, embellishments, and lots of buckles. Just add a pretty polish and you’ll be ready to go to the market or wee, wee, wee all the way home. Below are 12 of my favorite summer sandal finds (I recommend eating roast beef in all of them).
Starting at the one o’clock position and moving clockwise…
Unless you’re somehow immune to viral videos, you’ve already seen Dove’s Real Beauty Sketches video, but you should probably watch it again just because:
When I first watched the Dove video, I was moved. Me, the cynical, insensitive one was touched – and saddened. Only 4% of women in the world consider themselves beautiful? I don’t care which orifice Dove pulled that statistic out of, that’s awful.
And you. What was your reaction? I’m asking because this video has ignited a controversy. Its authenticity and its motives are under fire. Didn’t the forensic artist’s knowledge of the desired outcome further distort his drawings? Doesn’t the experiment still emphasize the importance of outward beauty over intelligence, charisma, and kindness? Isn’t Dove a Unilever company seeking to sell product instead of inspire social change?
Unilever is the same company that tries to seduce women with chiseled male bodies doused in ass Axe body spray, after all. The Unilever website boasts, “Axe is now giving guys the edge in the mating game in more than 60 countries.” Uh, doubtful. But “mating game” implies we are some sort of sexual conquest, presumably and expectedly as gorgeous on the outside as the overly-deodorized Axe men. The mixed messaging makes you wonder…
As a skeptical female marketing professional, do I think Dove is using the Real Beauty Campaign to sell us face lotion and body wash? Absolutely. But who cares? They aren’t soliciting underfed teenage girls to guilt me into a pair of jeans I can’t afford and will never feel comfortable in. It’s a brilliant marketing a) ploy or b) strategy (you pick) designed to get attention and project one very loud message: you are more beautiful than you think.
You don’t tell your best friend she shouldn’t wear her hair up because she has a weird shaped head or that she should always wear pants because her skin is pale and her ankles almost start with the letter “C.” You don’t make those comments because they’re mean, and more importantly, they’re irrelevant. Your love for her isn’t based on the relationship her calves have with her ankles, but the serendipitous intersection of her path and yours and the way you can communicate without even speaking.
You wouldn’t say those harsh words to your best friend, so what makes you think it’s okay to say them to the person in the mirror? Behind those eyes is someone who deserves all the praise in the world, but changing the perception of yourself might be the most difficult thing in the world.
When I was younger, I always thought I’d grow out of my insecurities – that being content with the shape of my head or the thickness of my ankles would come with maturity. Looks like I’m still immature. Or am I? Only 4% of women in the world consider themselves beautiful! I’m obviously not the only one stuck in this teenage frame of mind. But now instead of being young and envious of all the older women who metamorphosed into beautiful, confident creatures, I covet the ignorance of that youth and the blindness toward the cellulite and fine lines that deepen over time.
So, do we ever get there? It may or may not be genuine, but the Real Beauty Campaign does beg the question of how to end this vicious cycle of self deprecation, how to love ourselves more wholly. I don’t really know where to start, but “you are more beautiful than you think” seems like a decent place to me.
