Reflecting back on this from the safety of having my site and cherished guacamole post-it photo restored, I’m not surprised that the thought of losing all those grainy oh-so-poorly focused photos was so upsetting. The blog was such a major part of my life for over SIX years–maybe the MOST major part of my life? But somewhere in graduate school, I lost that connection. This was partly due to moving to a new city and partly due to graduate school trying to end me. But also because it felt like food blogging had changed, like it had become mostly about achieving influencer status, and that is just not my scene. I just want my own little space on the internet to share the things that I’m excited about and have it be totally OK if me and my mom are the only ones who ever read them. I’m not sure what this means at the moment, but I hope it means I’ll find some inspiration to tap back into the creative parts of my brain (the ramblings posts were always my favorites). Feel the excitement of pounding out a blog post when an idea strikes. Maybe even dust of the old DSLR.

I remember being hungry a lot as a kid. Dang. I wrote and deleted that sentence four times, worried about my mom or dad reading it. But that’s the truth. I remember being hungry a lot as a kid. My family didn’t have a lot of money, and we had four kids who really liked to eat. Most of the stories I’ve kept in my brain are the funny ones. Like the time I smuggled a slice of bologna out of the kitchen by swiftly sliding it down my sweatpants. Sure it had blue fuzz on it when I devoured it from the safety of my bedroom, but I didn’t care. There’s also the countless times my sister and I walked next door to beg the neighbor for potato chips. (To be fair, the neighbor drove a Lay’s truck, so you know that had extra chips laying around.) Have you ever turned expired powdered milk and plain noodles into lunch? I have.

I remember laying on my bed, stomach growling, as I anxiously listened for sounds that dinner might be coming soon. When it was finally time, I’d plow through my plate in hopes that finishing first would secure my chance at claiming any leftovers. I remember hiding halloween candy all over my bedroom. Under my pillows, in old shoe boxes under the bed. I hid it so no one else would eat it. Then I’d ration it out, three pieces per day at first, then two pieces once the supply started to dwindle. I was very sad when it was gone. I remember visiting friends’ houses and binging on the seemingly endless Little Debbies and boxes of Kraft Mac and cheese. And whole dill pickles. I once ate eleven full-sized dills in a night, stopping only when I started burping up pickle chunks.

Looking back, I can see that I had very little self control around food. If there was food, I would eat until it was gone. And if there was A LOT of food around, I’d eat to the point of sickness. I guess because most days there wasn’t a ton of food around the overeating thing wasn’t really a problem. I was normal sized. My self-esteem wasn’t great, but I thought I was pretty ok. Further complicating my relationship with food, I had always been self conscious of my body shape. Well, really just my stomach. It stuck out further than my friend’s stomaches did, and my boyish (read: entirely uncurvy) shape did nothing to conceal it. I was ok with it for the most part, except when my high school friend routinely laughed and pointed at my pot belly. (Her words.)

Then my twenties happened. By then I had a real job and I bought all the groceries I wanted. Have you ever eaten an entire box of Honey Nut Cheerios in one sitting? I have. I went up a pant size and made peace with mom jeans. I loved food and I ate a lot of it. I remember a boyfriend asking me if I was “going to lose that” before our upcoming beach vacation. By that he meant my stomach. I know that’s what he meant because he poked it as he said it. Later, I remember getting dressed for a night out and getting very upset about how I looked in my clothes. One of my closest friends was with me and she said “if you just quit sticking your stomach out like that you’d look fine”. The thing is I wasn’t pushing my stomach out, I was just standing. It was just me.

I’m not sure when my self confidence starting hinging so heavily on my body weight, but it was certainly around this time. Sure, maybe I hadn’t loved my body before this point, but something changed, and I started focusing solely on the things that were wrong with it. Food became the culprit. Enter calorie counting. My newly-curated definition of “health” centered 100 percent on calories. As long as the calories fit into my daily goal, it didn’t matter what sort of junk I was eating. Glorious mathematics. I remember sitting at my desk at work, struggling to concentrate because I was in the process of starving myself thin. I’d tell myself “this is what skinny feels like”.

Since then, I’ve yo-yoed between excessive restriction and excessive binging, with plenty of time in between. But that restriction urge? It’s normally triggered at the tail end of winter, when I’ve packed on the annual 5-7 pounds and suddenly I’m back in that routine of staring at my stomach in the mirror every morning wondering why I’m so out of control. Wondering why I can’t just STOP eating so many snacks and why to all that is holy if peanut butter is supposed to be so friggin healthy does it have so many calories.

Over the years, my definition of “healthy” has (mostly) shifted away from calories to whole foods. I eat a disturbing amount of vegetables. I also eat a disturbing amount of peanut butter. You know how everyone is talking about how to be an intuitive eater these days? Right now, I’m basically the opposite of that. I’m like middle school Mary eating her eighth cookie at a birthday party, and I’m just trying to exercise some compassion and not judge myself for that. Relationships are complicated. That includes food.

I happened to have one local honey and one not-so-local store brand syrup in the cabinet for comparison. The contrast between the store bought syrup and the Republic of Vermont organic maple syrup was STARK. The store bought syrup tasted flat, and though the label didn’t list it, it had a faint hint of liquid smoke. I’d had this store-bought 100% maple syrup many times, but I didn’t pick up on these weird flavor points until I compared it to the Vermont syrup. The VT syrup was robust, with buttery smooth full-mouth flavor and just a hint of floral in the background. This syrup was leagues ahead of the store bought variety.

As for the honey tasting, since both the local option I had on hand and the Vermont raw honey were very high quality, the contrast was less severe, BUT what was very cool was the difference in flavor notes across the two. I struggled to come up with a proper adjective to describe the Republic of Vermont raw honey, and I am settling on ZIPPY. The flavor was very complex and bright and the honey itself was thick, like a crystalized paste.

If you google raw honey health properties, you’ll find all sorts of claims, from cures for indigestion to diabetes. I have no idea if any of this is true, but claims aside, I can get behind choosing minimally processed and organic goods wherever your budget allows.

Republic of Vermont is a family farm in (you guessed it) Vermont that specializes in organic maple syrup and chemical and treatment free raw honey. If you’re interested in stepping up your honey and maple syrup game, definitely check them out! Not only are the products incredibly high quality, but each comes in a beautiful glass bottle. Perfect for a gift (to yourself).

And if you were wondering…. those pancakes you’ve been eyeing were made using the BA’s Best Buttermilk Pancakes recipe.

Did you know if takes 40 gallons of sap to make 1 gallon of maple syrup? (I just learned that on the Republic of Vermont website, and I feel real smart.)

Republic of Vermont

https://www.republicofvermont.com/

IG: https://www.instagram.com/republicofvermont/

In my opinion, every person should have a kale salad recipe in their back pocket.  This is important.  File it under Mary’s life rules to live by.  Whether you’re the only vegetarian in your family or the only person in your circle who cares about hitting your daily green quota, kale is there for you my friend.  In the past year, I think I’ve brought a kale salad to every family dinner I’ve been invited to.  Sometimes I’m the only one who eats it, but I’m not complaining.  In fact, if I were a vegetable, I think it’s safe to say I’d be a kale salad.  And if you think that sounds boring as far as anthropomorphized vegetables are concerned, then you don’t even know kale salad.  It’s healthy, hearty, and surprising every time.  Just as I hope to be.  Don’t sleep on kale salad, y’all.

I’ve documented many times here on the blog that I prefer weeknight dinners that are fast and balanced. Ain’t nobody got time to make an apple and pear mostarda on a Tuesday night… I save that sort of cookery for the weekends.  Instead, I opt for fast proteins and even faster vegetables, like this delightful meal of kale salad and beer battered haddock from Hook Line and Savor.  Side note:  this beer battered haddock is dairy, egg, and gluten free, and is cooked from frozen in about 25 minutes.  Plenty of time to make yourself a nice kale salad.

I’m a bit obsessed with these catch codes on the Hook Line and Savor boxes.  I mean, how cool is it to know that this haddock I had for dinner was caught off the Canadian Atlantic Coast?

Let’s get back to the kale. My go-to kale salad recipe starts with Lacinato kale (also called dinosaur kale and Tuscan kale).  It’s the kind of kale that’s got long flattish rippled leaves (not the kind that’s all curly all the ends).  I think this is the best tasting kind of kale out there, and the texture is more amenable to the kale averse eater.  But good news:  if you can’t find Lacinato, any kind of kale will do.  I top the kale with a simple dressing of fresh lemon juice and zest, olive oil, and salt.  And then I add something fatty.  Something like a mountain of freshly grated parmesan cheese or a generous scoopful of roasted hazelnuts.  OR BOTH, which is how Harvest Pizzeria serves my favorite kale salad in Columbus.

This is a dinner I’ll be eating on repeat the next few weeks.

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Simple Kale Salad

A simple kale salad recipe that comes together quickly and is easily customizable.

Course Side Dish

Cuisine American

Keyword kale, salad

Prep Time 5 minutes minutes

Servings 4

Author Fervent Foodie

Ingredients

• 1 bunch kale, preferably Lacinato
• 1 large lemon
• 2-3 tbsp olive oil
• Salt
• black pepper

Optional:

• Parmesan cheese, grated
• roasted salted nuts, such as pecans, walnuts, slivered almonds, or pine nuts
• dried fruit, such as cranberries or golden raisins.

Instructions

• In a small bowl, combine the zest and the juice of one large lemon with 2 tbsp olive oil, a pinch of salt, and several cracks of black pepper. Whisk to combine. Taste, and add more olive oil or salt as you like. I generally shoot for a 50-50 ratio of olive oil to lemon, but this may be too tart for some.
• Destem the kale. Stack the destemmed kale up like a deck of cards, and slice into thin strips or bite-sized chunks, as you prefer. 
  
• Place kale in a large bowl with 2 tbsp of the dressing. Using your hands, gently massage the dressing into the kale. Let the kale marinate until you are ready to serve the salad. 
  
• To serve, garnish with cheese, roasted nuts, and/or dried fruit. Add additional dressing to taste.

When the word “hangry” became a thing I felt so very validated.  After years of me proclaiming that “bad things happen when I don’t eat” (sort of like a werewolf faced with a full moon or like the Hulk when he rips off his t-shirt right before he smashes things) the world had finally slapped a label on the condition.  Hungry + angry = HANGRY.  A complex concoction of physical and emotional unfulfillment.  A critical mass of dissatisfaction.  A state that once entered into left me incapable of making conversation, let alone decisions.  In fact, once hangry, just the thought of deciding what to make for dinner often left me curled up on the couch with that soft checkered blanket I’ve had since I was thirteen, sucking my thumb, and wishing my mom was my roommate so she could make me some dang meatloaf.  Hangry.  When that word became a thing, I realized (at least in this one respect) I wasn’t a weirdo.  

(This is an actual photo of me trying to decide what to make for dinner.)

Through years of dealing with my condition, I’ve developed several coping mechanisms, namely grilled cheese and peanut butter toast.  Two quick and carb-filled comforting cure-alls.  But you know the problem with grilled cheese for dinner?  It always leaves you wanting another grilled cheese.  Alas, I’d considered stocking the freezer chock full of microwave meals for times when life got crazy, but the problem is the ingredients lists on these sorts of pre-packaged foods are typically so out of control that I’d regret fueling my body with this sort of junk.  Oh and also, I don’t own a microwave.  

When life gets crazy, all I really want is a healthy mix of protein, fat, and carbs on my plate and into my mouth with next to zero effort.  In this vein, I recently tried a new line of frozen fish by Hook Line and Savor.  If the idea of frozen fish has you thinking about the questionable fish sticks of your youth, THINK AGAIN.  Hook Line and Savor is a new company focused on providing wild-caught, sustainably sourced, allergy-friendly fish to consumers.  The current line of lightly-prepared fish includes black bean crusted cod (my favorite), crispy beer battered haddock, and citrus ginger salmon.  All three varieties are gluten, dairy, and egg free and can be cooked from frozen in less than half an hour.  THAT’S RIGHT, you don’t even need to remember to defrost them.

Concerned about buying frozen prepared products?  Me too.  That’s why I was so impressed with the Catch Code printed on each box.  You can enter the code on the website to see where and how your particular fish was caught.  How cool!  The fish I purchased was caught and processed in the Atlantic Ocean in Iceland.  As an added incentive to try Hook Line and Savor, I wanted to note that 5% of profits are donated to SeaShare, the only nonprofit dedicated to increasing the amount of high-quality seafood available at food banks and feeding centers.

As previously foreshadowed, the black bean crusted cod is my favorite of the three varieties.  Even if you aren’t a regular fish eater, this one is worth a shot.  I love the contrast of the super crispy black bean crust and the soft, flaky fish.  After trying it the first time, I knew I wanted to pair the crunchy cod with something tangy and creamy.  This avocado salad with chimichurri dressing is the perfect match.  Not only does the dish come together in about 5 minutes, but the leftover chimichurri dressing also tastes great drizzled over a side of rice.

Tell me you wouldn’t like to have this for dinner tonight.

Hook Line and Savor products are currently available in select Kroger grocery stores in Ohio, Michigan, and West Virginia, with more stores coming soon!  Check out the full list here.

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Avocado Salad with Chimichurri Dressing

A simple avocado salad with chimichurri dressing.  Pairs wonderfully with rice and proteins.

Course Side Dish

Cuisine Argentinian

5 minutes minutes

Servings 4

Author Fervent Foodie

Ingredients

• 1 cup cilantro, packed
• 1/3 cup red onion, chopped
• 1/4 cup jalapeno, chopped
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 1/2 cup red wine vinegar
• 1/4 cup olive oil
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 2 avocados, cubed
• 1/2 cup tomatoes, diced

Instructions

• Combine all ingredients, except avocado and tomato, in a blender or food processor.  Pulse mixture until the onion and pepper pieces are very small.  In a medium bowl, toss the avocado and tomato with 1/2 cup of dressing.  Serve immediately.  Excess dressing pairs well with rice.