I took up cooking seriously when I got my first apartment. My inspiration and teacher was Rachael Ray. I remember vividly the epic Blackened Chicken Pizza fiasco of 2005. I set my tiny apartment kitchen.on.FIRE. No kidding. Smoke everywhere. Flames tangoing with the cabinets above the air-sucky thing. The frantic moment that I remembered my 8th grade home ec teacher's lesson: a grease fire won't be put out with an extinguisher. Um. Not so fun. Who knew it was a bad idea to add oil to a "screaming hot pan"? I do now!
Currently, I love Paula Deen. Surprisingly, with all of the frying and butter, I have managed to circum-cook my way around any more grease fires under her tutelage.
Houston, we have another problem.
I went to the local Supplement Superstore to find out what type of protein might be a better choice for my mix-with-coffee-and-drink weekday breakfast of champions. The kind I've been sippin' on as of late is NOT good.
Oh, the things that stop being simple when questions start getting asked.
It turns out, if I'd like to get rid of the cellulite that keeps glaring at me every time I do a downward dog, I've got to do more than run and squat and lunge. I've got to eat healthy and nutritionally. Which I do. Kinda. I mean ever since I brought Paula into my life, I've been able to comfortably fire my personal chefs (you know, the ones who are really employed at places with arches, kings, and bells but are willing to make anything I want whenever I want it) and grocery shop on a pretty strict little budget.
The suggestions by my fabulously fit, perky, and knowledgeable salesman:
No more is dairy a protein.
No more does fruit count as a vegetable (or sweet potatoes either).
No more ginormous unbalanced meals that leave me stuffed for hours.
Six small meals a day composed of a protein, carbohydrate, and veggie
A multi-vitamin, where the daily dose is two gel pills, taken half in the morning and half at night
A better protein powder (at least I got what I went in for)
And really, that little adjustment didn't seem so bad. But, you know, it was hard today to do it. I was hungrier in the morning than normal and finding quick and easy protein, now that dairy doesn't count, is almost impossible in my kitchen's current condition.
I guess all I can really do is take baby steps, one at a time. And I will. Because the cellulite brutally stares at me and my arm mockingly continues to wave long after my hand has stopped (no matter how hard I try to flex my muscles in the process). I will give it another go tomorrow, using what I have in the pantry and aiming to eat smaller portions when's Paula's helping with dinner.