traveling.

Posted on July 28, 2014 by ryan

Before moving to Iowa two years ago, I couldn’t remember the last time I was on a plane. In that very short time, I’ve done more air travel (and land travel, for that matter) than I have in the last decade combined. It occurred to me when I mentioned to my sister the other day that all I needed to do to get on a plane was move away from home. It seems like the last two summers have been jam packed with travel and it’s usually around July or August. I make my 2^ndAnnual Summer Pilgrimage home in about two weeks and I’ve already begun making requests for my mom’s home cooking.

I can’t wait to see this little face:

Avery-bear

I just got back from a whirlwind trip to San Francisco for work. I got to spend some time with my amazingly awesome friend Jen (who I haven’t seen in something like 10 years!!) and she gave me a great tour of her city. San Francisco is one of the places that I’ve dreamed of visiting since I started taking this foodie thing seriously. They have it all: breweries, ethnic food, wineries, TARTINE and pretty much everything else a gastronomique could want. I may have made up that word just now.

Here are a few shots from my short (but sweet) trip.

First stop: Tartine

Shotwell’s for some local Drake’s Chili Smoked Porter. This beer is amazing. A-mazing.

Bi-Rite Grocery – it’s where they keep all the ice cream in San Francisco.

The Ferry Building. This is where they keep all the fancy food in San Francisco. Also, I want to live in it.

Cellarmaker. The new brewery my cool friend Jen took me to.

No words.

Oh, hai Alcatraz.

Ohio. I’ll be seeing you soon.

giving myself credit

Posted on July 2, 2014 by ryan

I found this on the interwebs today. And let me just say: “Preach.”

The quote is what took my breath away. “Success isn’t how far you got, but the distance you traveled from where you started.” — Steven Prefontaine

Right now, as you know, I’m a pretty far distance from where I started. That’s speaking both physically and metaphorically. Like the article talks about, I think I’ve spent a lot of time being focused on a particular destination. The odd thing is that I’ve found my life being swept up in the lovely in-betweens to the destinations—more as an adult than ever before.

People told me that when I turn 30, all the questioning of my 20’s would go away. I can tell you guys, that much is true. However, in place of it, I find myself questioning the bigger things like marriage and babies and homeownership. I believe it takes special people to get married, stay married and then put that union through the trials of homeownership and children. I have nothing but respect for the people that make those choices every day.

I feel so conflicted sometimes because part of me keeps thinking I should be more concerned with the destinations; my pesky adventurous spirit has always kept me from acting on those feelings. I’m saving those joys for a time that’s precious to me. Some destinations are meant to be savored and fully realized. I have to keep it top of mind that my journey isn’t meant to be like anyone else’s—it’s only meant to be mine.

a modern question

Posted on June 21, 2014 by ryan

Guys. I’m going to ask you a question that isn’t original at all.

“Why is it so expensive to eat healthy?”

Let me start backward and work forward. When I was thinking about what to write this week, I actually considered writing about my struggle to determine if I should become a vegetarian again. But then I thought more big picture. You see, I was driving down the highway this week, like I do, and (I promise I’m not going to get all soap-boxy on you and I’m most certainly not going to get graphic) I passed a pickup truck pulling a trailer of pigs. These pigs looked pretty jammed in there and normally I like to play ignorant and look away from livestock trailers but I saw their little pig noses poking out, so I looked. This is something that I’m entirely too soft to handle—this “seeing” where my food comes from. In my own personal protest about the pigs (who I liked to imagine were going to a farm…) I pulled the sausage off my breakfast sandwich and threw it away. But that doesn’t mean there’s one less pig to sacrifice for my sausage. For this reason, I was a vegetarian for five years; I believe in animal rights. Not crazy PETA style but I don’t believe the way we get our meat isn’t the way we’re meant to get our meat. I bought from Whole Foods, my friends and family bought only farm-raised holiday meats and I bought local where I could when I was transitioning out of my vegetarianism. That became costly for everyone and eventually I just turned a blind eye and began consuming restaurant burgers and steaks. Flash forward to present day—I live in the midwest; the breadbasket of America; the Pork capital of the world; Omaha Steaks are my neighbor. If there’s anywhere I could be a locavore, it’s here.

That brings me to my bigger picture. While there’s an outstanding farmer’s market on Saturday, I can only buy so much produce to avoid it rotting on my counters. As much as I try to shame it, the convenience factor still gets me from time to time. I just don’t have the energy to make food for the week or even every night. And, as it turns out, eating pre-made stuff or take-out… not all that healthy. Unfortunately, the reality of this amazing world we live in is that it’s more cost effective to get a Quarter Pounder w/Cheese, french fries and a large Coke than it is to go out, buy fresh ingredients, and make a meal at home. I think Mark Bittman (disclosure: love him) said it best: just eat real food. I guess that means, for the everyman, more trips to the grocery, more planning ahead of time, more skipping of the convenience factor.

That’s probably the *only* thing keeping me off the vegetarian bandwagon. While I’m passionate about what happens to those sweet pigs, it’s crazy expensive right now to buy the meat I want to buy to ease my conscience. Simply removing it from my plate means more pasta and that’s no good for my waistline. Should I resign myself to the fact that even a simple diet of fruits and veggies are going to cost me?

I’m still working out this vegetarian thing and I’m still trying to do the best I can to eat healthy on a budget. That’ll probably be the case until I can afford to grow my own food or buy half a humanely-raised cow or pig. It’s all a work in progress, as am I, but it’s hard when society as a whole makes it easier to eat food with poor nutrition quality (I’m looking at you Hostess Fruit Pies for breakfast) vs. the healthy stuff (oatmeal, eggs) that keeps me going throughout the day. Finally, as Mark Bittman implores, I’ll do my best to “eat real food”.

ioway

Posted on June 2, 2014 by ryan

look at that sky – majesty

There are a lot of things that Ohio and Iowa have in common. For example: four seasons in both states, the landscape isn’t vastly different (vastly being the keyword), we’re both considered Midwestern states (which I didn’t know till I moved here); in a nutshell, it’s not a total culture shock to move from Ohio to Iowa.

Back in another blogging life, before I left my home state, I wrote a little homage to Ohio which some of you may remember. I wasn’t sure what to expect moving to Iowa but here I am. I am happy to confess that all my preconceived notions were totally wrong. Turns out there is more here than pigs and cows and corn; there is a great little music scene if you’re patient enough to wait for it to come; there are wonderful places to roam and big cities within driving distance. My job has blessed me immeasurably by indulging my traveling heart so I think I’m now qualified enough to write a post about the differences between Iowa and Ohio.

The first and most obvious difference is how kind people are here. It was a lesson I learned after one of my first trips to Hy-Vee. Everyone there said hello, made eye contact, smiled… it was really weird. I chalked it up to the liberation of being completely anonymous but it persisted everywhere I went: at the gas station, at Target, driving down the road (people wave a lot in rural Iowa)—Iowa kindness was rampant and it changed me. I became Iowa Ryan and Iowa Ryan is personable and will ask you about your 150 head of cattle, your dog, your sister’s dog, your daughter’s goats and I like that people are willing to share their stories with me.

There was also a learning curve with some minor things. Here, instead of asking “would you like a bag for that?” people ask “you want a sack?” Sack. At first I replied, “yeah, I’ll take a bag” but it wore off when I realized “sack” is much more fun. Plus, I blend in when I use the local lingo. Another word that was met with a quizzical brow was my usage of “expressway”. I don’t know if that’s a Ryan-thing or an Ohio-thing but in my house/family/network of peeps we always called all the highways “expressway” whether it was 76, 480, 71 or even 80 (“the turnpike” sometimes). Here, Iowans use the correct highway, “I was eastbound on I-235…”. Speaking of, people here use cardinal directions. It seems like everyone has an inner GPS and they know what’s the north side of the street or the east building so it forced me to learn pretty quickly that my former method of taking directions just wouldn’t suffice.

While there are still pretty much all the same landscape elements in Ohio and Iowa, there are far fewer trees here. I remember my old commute to the office when I lived in Ohio, both sides of the expressway were lined with forests of trees. Here, it’s fields as far as your eye can see. It’s almost like the sky touches the grass. There are rolling hills, more corn fields than you could ask for, farm animals and wind turbines for miles. The landscape here truly is something special. Last week I was lucky enough to find my version (so far) of heaven on Earth. It’s called Corning, Iowa. There was dirt road after dirt road where no one would pass by and when I watched some calves run and play along the banks of a pond I knew in my heart that being here has been so right. I never anticipated running away from home and ending up so far away but I am convinced that this is my kind of place.

Corning, Iowa

I’ve become a better person for being an Iowa transplant. The other day, my friend Kelly told me that I know Des Moines in my year and a half here better than she does having been here longer. I learned everything I know from a fella that loves his city and I honestly think that makes all the difference. I never gave Cleveland that same respect until I left. This place is just magic to me. I love and learn from the differences in my two homes. So when/if you come to Iowa, prepare to go back home just a little bit changed.

stolen idea

Posted on May 22, 2014 by ryan

I’m completely stealing this blog idea – because I love it and let me tell you why. I love the honesty of it and I’m continually looking for balance when it comes to my honesty here with you all and making sure that I’m not crossing into territory where I’m hurting someone’s feelings. I’m sure other bloggers can empathize that when you’re blogging about your life, it can sometimes get compartmentalized and complicated. I’m sure it’s much more freeing to blog about recipes and cooking or fitness. What’s going on in my life drives this blog – good and bad (probably the reason for some lengthy absences). I don’t want it to come off “Dear Diary” style but at the same time, it seems like when I’m writing from my heart, it’s less work to convey an idea and you all are more receptive. So in the spirit of honesty, I give you the 3 Things I’m Bad At.

#1 Paying “silly” bills on time

Okay… I wrestled over including this one cause it makes me sound *so* immature. But since we’re being truthful, I do have a few bills that I regularly don’t pay on time. I know it’s not a good thing, guys. Stuff like my cell bill, a store credit card (cringe), internet – those are bills that seem a little sillier than rent, car payment, CAR INSURANCE so I take a few liberties when getting those paid. I know all bills are to be taken seriously and I’m in the process of trying to scale back the spending and tighten up on the whole budget thing. The funny part about this is that I never feel more adult than I do when all my bills are paid.

#2 Openly correcting grammar

Okay, so I love proper spelling and grammar. I’m sure I’ve abused it a time or two in the past – who hasn’t?! I can tell you that I’ve gotten a lot better at knowing when to correct in mixed company (I used to be worse and way more annoying). Sorry, family, you’ll always be fair game. My eyes are trained to find the errors in PowerPoint presentations and in business situations I take people less seriously when something is misspelled. I love the English language and I will be the first person to butcher it intentionally, so I’m really sorry in advance when I mutter “well” under my breath when someone says “he did good”, or “supposedly” when I hear “supposebly” or “essspresso” when I hear someone order “expresso” because truthfully, I have no right to do that. Clearly, this is an ongoing area of opportunity for me.

#3 The follow-through

This one is probably the hardest and the most honest. I start a lot of things I don’t finish. I’m well aware through old adages and reading that this is an undesirable characteristic. My resume includes diets I start and don’t finish, gyms I start and don’t commit to, books that lose my interest and end up back on the shelf, starting and stopping running about five times, leaving the last dish in the sink unwashed after doing alllll the other dishes, and not calling my family/friends as often as I should. There’s also the ideas that pop into my head randomly throughout the day of things I think I’d like to do. Prime example: today I was thinking maybe I should make all the food I eat from scratch and eat nothing processed. Let’s be honest, guys. That’s a setup for immediate failure. I can spin this a plethora of different ways, both positive and negative. It doesn’t hinder my growth as a person but I really do this a lot. I think it probably frustrates me more than anyone else (right, family?).

I believe we all have things we’re bad at. And generally speaking, those are the things that cause us a bit of heartbreak, some bumps and bruises and leave us with some thicker skin. Yes, a good portion of the time we’re the better for having gone through hard times. That’s not always true, of course, but when I look back on times I thought were so hard they’d crush me I scratch my head wondering how I could have thought it was so bad. The point is, if we start owning those things we’re bad at it becomes easier to embrace the unique person we are. They don’t have to be defining characteristics… they can just be a smaller part of what makes up the whole.

family tradition

Posted on May 1, 2014 by ryan

In my family, if it’s a holiday, there’s cranberry salad. In fact, we don’t even call it “cranberry salad” anymore. It’s now known simply as “cranberry”. As in: my mom will ask “do you want to make the cranberry?”

If we’re being honest, when I was a kid I wasn’t all that crazy about it. Mostly cause there’s celery in it and I hate celery. As I’ve gotten older it’s become something I appreciate more and, now that I’ve started eating it instead of passing over it, I’ve found it’s pretty delicious.

I’m sure I’ve mentioned before that in lieu of tangible things, my family tradition is more about cooking together and breaking bread together. Part of the tradition of the cranberry is making it. When I asked my mom about the origins of the cranberry salad, she told me she remembers it back to my great aunt Catherine. She used to actually grind the cranberries by hand (akin to walking to school uphill both ways in the rain?) cause back then it wasn’t canned. My mom fondly remembers her mom making it for Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners only—grinding all the ingredients by hand. Then when my mom started entertaining in the 80’s, her mom showed her how to make it just as my mom has shown my sister and me. It’s legit passed down, guys.

In our little family, though, the cranberry isn’t just for Thanksgiving and Christmas—it makes an appearance at every holiday. This Easter, three girls crowded around my sister’s kitchen island—Rach, mom and me. We slivered celery, segmented oranges, drained canned pineapple, Rachel cut her hand and we assembled the most delicious (cause every year it gets more delicious) cranberry together. We talked and laughed—mostly about Rachel’s cranberry disaster of 2013 but that’s another story.

My sister and I have a photocopy of the recipe written in my Grammy’s hand, all cranberry stained from overuse. Quite simply, it’s us.

act your age

Posted on April 24, 2014 by ryan

I have to be candid here… I’m sorry for the break; I’ve had some heavier than usual stuff swirling around me lately (Chris Martin and Gwyneth Paltrow’s “conscious uncoupling” amongst other things) and serious things are the ones I struggle blogging about. It’s always a challenge to figure out how I feel and then to translate that to words… it makes my head hurt.

My younger sister turned 30 this past week. Our respective 30th Birthday celebrations were quite different (there may have been tears for mine—but who doesn’t cry on their birthday?!). It got me thinking about her first 30 years and how I’ve been a part of each year. That makes me feel old. I’d venture to say even more so than my own birthday. It also got me thinking about how I don’t feel my age at all. I started mentally compiling a list of reasons why I don’t feel 31 and I’ll keep the self-deprecation to a minimum.

Reasons I don’t feel my age

1. I leave the house at least 3 mornings a week with wet hair—for work.

2. I still struggle with exercise and eating right. Still. 10 years later.

3. I wear Chuck Taylors with shocking regularity.

4. I actually own nothing of value with the exception of two TVs and all my Apple products.

5. Money management?

6. I have way more teeshirts than dress shirts.

7. I own a very impractical two door stick-shift car.

When it comes to aging, I always think about an assignment we had to do in 5th grade health class—we had to make a timeline of the rest of our lives filled with important events and at what age they would happen. At first, I was filled with anxiety because even then I had no concept of what the next day would hold let alone 30 years of days. Once I overcame the seriousness of the task (they didn’t really expect us to know when we’d die, right?!) I think I slopped down that I’d graduate in 4 years of college, have some ambiguous corporate job, wake up at 7 every morning, be married by 25 and have kids by 30. Obvi, that timeline was rooted in the idealistic views of my 5th grade mind and I’ve managed to embrace the fact that my real-life timeline is very different from my imagined one. Sometimes I let that silly timeline get to me and I start thinking about all that I *haven’t* done. I can’t really say that I know how to combat it other than to let it in, let it have about 5 minutes and then get rid of it with thoughts of all that I have done and all that I do have.

I’m pretty blessed and I definitely know it. Thank you to all of you lovelies that keep me chasing creativity; the ones of you who challenge me to look at the world, who keep me running and cooking and striving to be the best me I can be. And not least, thank you to my amazing sister who makes 30 look sparkly and fabulous.

what i’m listening to

Posted on March 11, 2014 by ryan

Hey guys! I came to the conclusion that it’s going to be tough business for any blog post to follow Avery’s story. So while I’m cooking up something bigger about inspiration, let me tell you about the things I’ve been listening to that are currently inspiring me daily.

As you guys know, I’ve been loving on the podcasts lately. Below are the ones that I lost myself in—to the point I was holding my breath:

This American Life: Dead Men Tell No Tales

I had no idea about this story. I don’t even remember hearing it in the news. The research done for this story must have spanned months and, quite honestly, been pretty dangerous. Considering everything that happened to the “characters” in this true story, it left me feeling a little conflicted about the tactics used by the FBI when interviewing the suspects.

Snap Judgement: The Pact

The Angeli Symphony story is incredible. It’s a tragedy that turns into an unbelievable success. I’m so inspired by Stuart’s resolve… I don’t want to say too much lest I ruin it but if you want to feel inspired by a man convinced of his higher calling, give it a listen.

The Moth: Fog of Disbelief

This is the story of Carl, an American who was actually working at the nuclear reactor site during the earthquake at Fukushima three years ago this week. Listening to the raw emotion in his voice is gripping. It’s completely unfathomable what he must have gone through. I hear his words but I can’t imagine the fear, the disbelief, the magnitude of what he experienced. The part where he talks about the 23rd Psalm… there were tears in my eyes. For the power of the human spirit, listen.

Unfictional: Family Justice

This is quickly becoming one of my favorite podcasts. Unfictional is similar to The Moth and Snap Judgement in that it’s simply people telling stories. I don’t meant to say “simply” cause the stories are usually amazing stories but it’s people like you and me. The second story, from Ed and Melanie, is both hilarious and my worst nightmare. To lose a pet that’s essentially part of the family would be devastating to me. Ed and Melanie have a way of telling it with the suspense of a detective story and a healthy dose of hilarity.

And… I couldn’t compile a list without you guys knowing my favorite podcast episode ever. It’s a tie for number one and I’ve gone back to listen to these time and time again—they’re just that good.

Radiolab: Lost & Found

Emilie’s story (the last story), Finding Emilie, is a story that has stuck with me since I first heard it in 2011. I think about all the ‘what ifs’ when I listen to it… what if Emilie hadn’t been able to communicate with Alan? What if Alan hadn’t had the connection he did with her – to pull her through? At the heart of this story is love. I think this story will touch your heart too and if you’re like me, you’ll visit it time and again cause it just.sticks.with.you.

And co-number one…

Radiolab: Patient Zero

I have a bit of an obsession with disease. I think pathology would be a great backup plan for me. Patient Zero tells us the origin of AIDS and Typhoid—and it’s told exquisitely. I have recounted these stories to family and friends at least a dozen times but I can’t do it quite as well as Radiolab does.

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Inspiration has also been coming from great new music lately. I won’t gild the lily too much on these albums cause they stand on their own perfectly fine without my flourish. The first of which has already been receiving acclaim by people far more qualified than I to give it.

Beck – Morning Phase

Beck… I love you. I especially love when you’re contemplative, reflective, complicated, sad and the music is big and orchestral. I loved you in Sea Change and this is the perfect companion to its brilliance. I listen to this album from beginning to end and then start it all over again. Great with the sunrise and coffee, great on the afternoon drive, even better in the evening with a healthy glass of red. Beck for all.

The Family Crest – Beneath the Brine

Oh.em.goodness.so.good. There is no other way for me to describe this album. Apparently, it was funded by a Kickstarter Campaign… which is amazing. The title track is beautiful and a close second would be “The Water’s Fine” which has this incredible Frenchy sound.

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I hope you all find some inspiration through these recommendations! Happy listening!

avery.

Posted on February 18, 2014 by ryan

Tomorrow will be two weeks since my niece, Avery Jo, was born. I started to write the story of her birth on the plane ride to Cleveland but I decided that it might be better to get it down in cyberspace—after all, the internets are forever.

The Story

From the time my sister found out she was pregnant, I’ve been telling everyone with ears how excited I am about being an auntie. About a week before the birth, my sister emailed the family their birth plan. My portion of the birth plan was hard to actually plan for. The plan was this: my sister wanted to labor as long as possible at home before going to the hospital, so she’d text me when she knew she was in labor. Hopefully she’d labor long enough for me to get on a plane and get to Cleveland so I could be at the hospital. It made me really uncomfortable cause this plan hinged on the baby being ready—so she could be on time, early or late… the whole month of February belonged to my sister and the baby.

After a fitful night of sleep on February 4th, I awoke to a text around 5:15 am:

“Morning sister!!!”

“You may want to pack a bag, and look at flights.”

“I’m timing my contractions…”

My response:

“Seriously?!”

Rachel had been having contractions since midnight.

Six hours later, I had a bag packed and was on a flight to Cleveland. The weather in Des Moines had other plans… we sat on the runway for an extra 30 minutes while the plane was being de-iced. I had foolishly booked my connecting flight through Chicago O’Hare which I’ve had mixed luck with in the past. I joked pre-labor about Home Alone-ing it through O’Hare (you guys know, when they overslept and had to sprint through the airport) and all kidding aside, that’s exactly what I had to do. The 30 minute delay made me miss loading on my connection so I ran through the airport, suitcase behind me. The gate agent had to open the closed door for me to get on the plane. I’m so lucky I made it because there was a snowstorm already happening in Des Moines and it was headed to Chicago. I don’t know if I’d have been able to get another flight if I had missed my connection.

I pulled into Rachel and Adam’s driveway just as they were loading up to go to the hospital. My mom told me later that Rachel waited for me. She was 8 cm dilated when we got to the hospital but there was still a long night ahead of us. This is the part where I have to stop and tell you that my sister was a warrior. Their birth plan included no “drugs” of any kind, no constant monitoring, and the ability to get up and move around if she wanted to. She had the birth she wanted and she was incredible. The whole experience was so special because there was nothing but love in the room. Rachel was kind, patient, even apologetic at times but most of all she was herself. She pushed for three hours and never once said she wanted to give up. She was ready to meet their little girl and she worked hard.

Avery was born at 2 am on February 5th in the middle of a snowstorm to two of the most loving people I’ll ever know. She made a quiet entrance and had quite the little cone-head. I know I’m a little biased but she is perfect. The whole experience, from that first text to seeing Avery’s little body flopped up on my sister’s chest, was so far beyond anything I could have expected. I never understood the magic of birth and babies but I do now. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her; I love her more than I thought I could and all that happened in one breath.

I stayed for a week. My mom, sister, brother in law, Avery and I were all holed up in the house together for the first time in ever. We cooked together, ate together, laughed together and made some new memories as a family. I got to see my mom as a grandma and my dad as a grandpa (his teary eyed response to holding her was beautiful). I stayed up with Avery at night so my sister could get rest. I changed diapers and helped during feeding times. I sucked in as much of that little girl as I could before I had to leave. My emotions are still very raw even two weeks later. I’ve never cried leaving Cleveland but I did when I left them.

I couldn’t really be told what this would mean to me, like all good things in life. I had expectations but it was nothing short of the biggest moment I’ve been a part of. More than anything, I feel overwhelmed by the hope and excitement that comes with new life. It took 9 months and an instant.

stuff i love: food i make edition

Posted on January 27, 2014 by ryan

Hey guys! We’re in a deep freeze that just won’t quit here in DSM. That means when the sun goes down I’m at home, in my pajamas, looking for something to eat for dinner. I recently realized that I’ve been eating out a lot. When I’m not eating out, I’m eating something “made” for me by the frozen food gods. The result is lethargy, weight gain and poor sleep that lead to me doing silly things like cleanses in an attempt to feel more balanced.

I come from a long line of cooks. I used to cook all.the.time (I think I may have mentioned that before). My mom cooks dinner every night, my sister cooks dinner most nights, my dad is always cooking… I know it’s in me to do it, I just can’t muster up the energy after a long day. On days like today, after I’ve overdone it on the weekend and I want to feel better, I take to my tiny kitchen (and my even tinier stove) to make my favorite go-to meal. I’m not sure what else to call it but the meat bowl. I could fancy it up and call it a taco-less salad but let’s just call it what it is—we’re all grown ups here: it’s a meat bowl.

The easiest part of this meal for me is that I get veggies and protein and I get to exercise a bit of my creativity. I’ve done this before with ground bison and ground pork and you just change the seasoning and the vegetables.

Step 1: Brown minced garlic and onion, add mushrooms and sauté till soft.

Step 1: Sauté minced garlic and onion, add mushrooms and sauté till soft.

Step 2: Move mushroom mixture to a bowl (unless you have a large skillet—I do not). Brown ground meat of choice. Prep lettuce base and fresh herb seasoning.

Step 3: Everything back in the skillet to mix with the fresh herb (basil, in this case).

Step 4: I like to top it with fresh tomatoes and half an avocado. There’s also this delicious artichoke pesto from Trader Joe’s which tastes good on pretty much everything.

Voila. Lettuce base, meat mix on top, veggies = dinner.

I’m hoping this year I can cook a little more and continue my effort in being a healthier me. I recently heard an interview with Michael Pollan where he advocates not-so-much a particular diet (I realize he’s not encouraging the Paleo lifestyle here) but that we cook for ourselves. He says: “the food industry has done a great job of convincing eaters that corporations can cook better than we can. The problem is, it’s not true. And the food that others cook is nearly always less healthful than that which we cook ourselves.” Be a healthier me by cooking? Now that is an idea I can get behind.

a girl called ryan

Author Archives: ryan