Ridiculousness and bacon

I have a few other blogs in the making with recipes and horror stories about our a/c going out.  But for now, I leave you with an update.

My Practical Paleo book came in!  Hooray.  I've been waiting for it forever(7 days to be exact!).  The bookstore was really awesome about calling me as soon as it came in because I told them I was leaving the country but not sure when.  Also, it could have been because I called three or four times and they were tired of hearing from me.

Crazy dreams again?  Yep.  They always seem to be particularly crazy when I'm under a lot of stress.  So last night/this morning I dreamed (is that even the right word?) that I was at some sort of fundraiser with a bunch of rich people and a woman who I don't particularly care for.  Then somehow that transpired to me winning something but couldn't find my ticket until it was too late.  I was so depressed I started cooking bacon (like a whole pound because I love bacon) and decided to run an errand.  Go to run my errand and my car miraculously turns into a riding lawnmower...which coincidentally runs out of gas so I text my husband and he doesn't return my texts.  What's a girl to do but sleep on her riding lawn mower in the middle of a street surrounded by wheat fields.

Then I woke up...kind of.  I managed to trip over my suitcase (aptly so since it was laying in the middle of my bedroom floor and I was still pretty asleep), tripping over that sent me running into the wall saying a sleepy obscenity.  After I made it out of the maze I call my bedroom, my eyes were still shut because there were lights on, I managed to walk into the wall next to the bathroom door, saying another obscenity and praying my husband didn't see or hear any of it.

"kjsdakj you didn't give me gas for my lawn mower."  Of course it was jumbled and probably whispery because loud noises don't help you get back to sleep.

"What are you talking about?  Are you okay?  I heard you trip."

"My lawn mower ran out of gas and I was frying bacon.  I had a dream about it."

"I'd say it was alcoholic bacon with as many walls as you ran into on your way to the bathroom."

I did my business, crawled back into bed and all I could muster up was "Have a good day, I love you.  I don't understand why you didn't answer my text and bring my lawnmower gas.  I had to sleep on the lawnmower."

"Don't get mad, it was just a dream babe.  Of course I'd bring you gas for your lawn mower."

"I'm not mad, I just don't understand why you didn't check your phone until 5:40 a.m.  I was in trouble and needed you.  I had to sleep on the lawnmower babe."

He did as he does every morning, kissed me on the forehead (probably to avoid morning/dragon breath) and said he loves me.  Why or how he loves me is an utter mystery.   I'm ridiculous most days.

Xoxo
Riley Writes

Paleo Chicken Pot Pie Recipe

I've been craving me some good ol' fashioned home cooking.  Basically, chicken pot pie.  I love chicken pot pie, it's always held a special place in my heart, the crust, the yummy goodness on the inside and the homey feeling it evokes.  It makes you think of your mother or grandmother.  Or in my case, my aunt and my roommate.  They would make the most delicious chicken pot pie ever.  Maybe it was because it was made with love or laced with crack...one can never be sure.

If you follow this blog occasionally or read my Facebook, you'll know that recently, I've been at war with grains, processed foods and a few other things here and there.  I call it a war because a war is made of battles...and I battle every. single. day.  You probably think I'm joking but let me tell you what...there was a lot of Halloween candy at the commissary today and I accidentally missed breakfast.  Long story short, I'm a candy junkie and a sucker (pun intended) for pastas and breads.

Back to the chicken pot pie.  I scavenged Pinterest as I always do for last minute recipes, I stumbled across tons of paleo chicken pot pie recipes but couldn't decide because they were all labor intensive and I'm incredibly lazy.  I found this one at fedandfit.com and was all "I can totally do this!"  Then I read that it takes about two hours and was all "Hahahahhahaha nope."  In the end and after much internal debate, I decided to stick with it because I was really hungry and really wanted chicken pot pie.

If you've looked at the recipe, you would have noted that it makes 8 individual pies.  We don't need 8 servings, especially since there is just two of us.  Also, I hate coconut milk.  It's a staple in the paleo world but I just can't stand it.  So in my head, I thought "Gee, I can modify this and make it work probably more than likely.  Should I still do it? What if I don't put the coconut milk in it? Do I want to do this?  Yeah, I really want to used my new knife set to chop shit up like a boss."

I baked the pot pie in a 9x13 pan because even though I act like an adult (sporadically), I don't have as many baking pans as I should.

You can look at the recipe on the link.  I made a few substitutions and whatnot so I'll list what I did here.

Crust:
2 cups almond flour/almond meal (same thing)
1/3 cup coconut oil
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 tablespoon of water
1 teaspoon sea salt, I used mine from a grinder but also, I didn't measure it.  I eyeball it because...I have an eyeball to do so.
1 egg -  for the egg wash.

- You're supposed to pulse the dry ingredients, then gradually add the coconut oil which should still be in it's solid form.  After all that's said and done, add your tablespoon of water gradually.  Except mine wasn't gradual, because I'm a rebel on a time crunch.  Then wrap it up in some saran wrap and store it in the fridge until you're ready to use it.

Innards:
1 whole white/yellow onion chopped
4 carrots chopped into however you feel like doing it
1/3 bell pepper chopped
1 can of low sodium broth - you're supposed to make your own according to the recipe that you most definitely read but I made some once and it was awful so I used a can. Whatevs, I'm busy. < Facebooking and whatnot.
2 chicken breasts
1 teaspoon or tablespoon of olive oil
Salt & Pepper

I baked my boneless, skinless chicken breasts at 350 until about 145 degrees.me.  Except, right before, I realized that I had still left the overnight oven cleaner in the oven for about a week.  We had to take a short time out to scrub it so naturally, that added to my estimated time.  After all that was said and done I started the chicken.  While that was baking, I sauteed the onions until they were translucent.  After that, I added the carrots and bell peppers into the pan with the onions and added the broth.  Boiled that for a bit until the chicken was done, chopped the chicken, added that to the pan and added some almond meal to thicken it up.  It didn't get thick like a regular pot pie, I boiled away most of the liquid so it was somewhat of a soup consistency.

I added it all to the baking pan, then utilized the handsome studly man I married to help me roll out the crust between two pieces of wax paper and flipped it onto the filling.  There was no bottom crust but I was surprised at how much I didn't care.  I slathered the egg onto the crust and put it in the oven at 350 and kept it in there until the crust browned.

It was delicious and even the husband said so.  I will definitely be making it again.

Happy eating!
Xoxo
Riley Writes

Books & Chia Seeds

I'm a fairly simple person, at least I'd like to think so.  I don't require a lot to keep me happy, I think I'm hilarious so I'm pretty great at entertaining myself.  A good book does wonders for my psyche and generally, seeing my husband can turn even the foulest of moods into a smile.

So just imagine how excited I am that I visited the library today!  And that I'm going to yoga later.  Oh and that I'm making some of that amazing homemade raspberry chia seed lemonade.  It's fantastic and you should try it.  (You know you want to.  Why, you ask?  Because chia seeds are nature's super food.  Fancy little seeds that have no taste, are rich in Omega 3's, help keep you hydrated and have tons of fiber.)  You can read more about them here: Wellness Mama  and here Nuts.com.

We invested in one of those hand juicer things and I am entirely way more excited than I should be about it.  I know you're probably thinking "Jeez, get with the program...we all have fancy electric juicers that also weave baskets underwater."  I said I was a fairly simple person.  I made homemade orange juice for my husband yesterday.  It was perfection in a jar.  A jar, you may ask...yes well.  I happen to save all my jars because I feel guilty throwing them out.  My super awesome neighbor also went above and beyond and bought me a bag of lemons so I can make said lemonade!  How sweet is that?!  I know, right?  She's pretty legit. I think this time around, I may make blueberry lemonade.  The possibilities are endless!

Another thing I'm pretty ridiculously excited about is I finally bought a hardback copy of Practical Paleo by Diane Sanfillippo.  I bought the book for my Nook and it's great, but there are a lot of bullets, charts and things of that nature that don't transfer too well to an e-book.  It will be here in two weeks!  Until that time, I visited the library and stocked up on eye and brain candy.  Seriously, the Dewey Decimal System brings a huge smile to my face.  I remember learning about it when I was in grade school and thinking to myself "This is awesome."  I got my kicks out of looking for things in a card catalog and writing down the numbers.  Ah, the good old days.

Lately I've been reading a lot of books about the food industry, food in general and the effects it has on your body.  My most recent read is Sugar Salt Fat by Michael Moss.  It's about the food industry and they way they make their products to leave us wanting more.  (Hello Spaghettio addiction)  It's eye opening, mind boggling and it's definitely helping me think twice about I've been putting in my body.

I also checked out a book by Michael Pollan called In Defense Of Food - An Eater's Manifesto because well, I'm an eater.  I love food (clearly) and I think it's important that I start treating my body the way it should be treated.  I'll probably write a review of it after I'm finished, in case anyone was interested.  And if not, well you can skip that entry :)

Well, I'm off to go lift heavy things (hopefully).  

Xoxo

Riley Writes

The Little Can Opener Who Can't

Once upon a time there was a can opener purchased from the BX (which is short for Base Exchange, which I learned recently because I've only been living here for a year and a half).  The can opener was soooo awful, its owners purchased another one because it broke within a month.  They felt bad though so they kept it for good measure.  The new can opener was shiny and came with a bottle cap remover.  It was the loveliest in all the land of their kitchen.  Until one day, it rode into battle with a child who had no idea how to use it.  The can opener was no match for Spaghettios and died an awful death, parts flying everywhere.  It's master was saddened by the sudden loss but alas, she moved on with her life and bought a much newer, much safer can opener that lifts the lid instead of cutting into it.  She was elated at the thought of never having to worry about cutting herself on a sharp lid again.

This is literally the worst can opener I have ever owned in my life.  I cannot operate it for the life of me.  If we aren't friends on Facebook, (which we probably are but I'm going to post the picture anyways because it needs repeating)...I digress and forgot where I was going but here:

Ten minutes, a pair of needle nose pliers, a fork, a butter knife and a flat head screwdriver.  Oh and my new can opener too.  It's one of those safe cut ones or whatever.  Anyways, somehow that incredible guy I married figured it out and showed me multiple times before ^ this happened.   He's amazing, have I mentioned that?  I also would love to say that this is an isolated incident, unfortunately it's not.

So tonight, I'm making paleo spaghetti but of course (actually I was going to make paleo zucchini ravioli but that's a story for another night), I need to get the tomato sauce and paste open (since I make my own spaghetti sauce).  Zach and I are doing our ballet in the kitchen (not literally of course) and he's doing trying to make juice.  I think his spidey senses tingled because as soon as I opened the drawer, it was as if he knew what was going to happen.  Not wanting to recreate the picture above, he offered to do it for me because he's my husband and manly and stuff.  But in more of a "I don't want you mutilating those cans" kinda way.

"I don't know if it will work because the cans are too small."  "I wish I would have read the directions."  Then I piped in that I read the directions and he just looked at me because to be honest, I didn't understand the pictures.  Who puts pictures of directions other than Ikea?  Be serious Ecko.  < That's the brand so you know never to buy can openers from them at the BX in Guam.  

Then this happened: 

You're probably wondering why he looks angry.  It may have been because a certain someone was taunting him about not being able to get the can opener to open the cans and then I snapped a picture because I couldn't stop laughing.  By this time, I realized we had been defeated and decided to take my cans over to my neighbor to open.  

Then this!  Happiness is a neighbor who lets you borrow a good can opener until you buy a new one.  Hooray!  Dinner can commence!

Of course, then there is a little issue of it tasting absolutely awful because I'm 97% positive that the tomato paste was bad.  I don't know...does tomato paste normally have a layer of rusted orange color? 

Zach - "Babe, is it supposed to taste like this?"

"It tastes a little off to me, I don't think I'm going to eat it."

Zach - "Seriously?  You put all this work into it.  Now I feel bad.  What's the expiration date on the bottom of the can?"

"Ehh...let me look.  It's not there and don't feel bad."

Zach - "Rachele, seriously, there is no expiration date whatsoever?  Did you even look at the top/bottom of the can?  I suppose if you aren't eating it, I should be scared since you eat anything."

"Hmmm, it says 2004 (dramatic pause as I realize I can't read properly nor can I speak math)...AHHHHH sorry, I can't read.  There's a one in there. 2014.  Cool your jets, we aren't getting food poisoning tonight.  Or we might if we eat it.  I don't know.  There's a chance maybe."

"Wait...did you just say I eat everything?"

Zach made a turkey sandwich and I ate a nectarine and neither of us have food poisoning.  Yet.

Xoxo

Riley Writes

The ants go marching one by one...

I think the one think I will not miss in any way, shape or form is rainy season.  I love the rain, don't get me wrong.  It reminds me of home.  Fall, winter, spring and summer in Washington.  Just kidding, only the first 3 and a half seasons.  But really, I love the rain.  I especially love it here because it goes away fast, it's generally warm and it's incredibly relaxing.

What I don't miss and/or love are the horrendous ant infestations after a really hard rain.  Case in point:  We live on a hill...last year it was pretty rainy and I walked outside to see "black" tomatoes on my vines as well as dying roots from the excess water.  Upon closer examination I see that these "black" tomatoes are actually covered in itty bitty ants.  Nevermind the fact that I had ants under my stove, in my dishwasher, my potted plants and just about everywhere you could possibly imagine.  We eradicated the issue with lots of traps, pesticides, voodoo magic and the blood of a chicken.  It was lovely.

A few days ago, I saw two ants on the floor while I was scrubbing my grout.  Whatever.  Not that big of a deal.  Then I saw an ant in the trash can.  Just one, which I thought was odd but I looked high and low without seeing any others.

Yesterday while I was at the BX...it went from being overcast to having water up to my ankles in a matter of 10 minutes.  It should have given me some sort of inkling.  So I should have figured it was going to happen.  Driving home at about 10 MPH, I noted how deep the water was on the streets below us (because we live on a hill) and remembered how bad it was last year...(I didn't realize our voodoo magic had worn off, Silly Rachele).  No ants though, we're in the clear.

Fast forward to today:  "Zach, make sure to let the babies out and feed them before you go into work, I'll be home soon(ish).  You're the best, love you!"

Then this happened:

Ugh.  He was right too.  There were ants all over the place!  All in the expensive dog food we buy (because apparently I'm not the only one in the family with food sensitivities.)  I saw where my awesome husband had waged war in the kitchen.  I literally spent in excess of three hours scrubbing my floors, not three days ago!  Not, the floors are littered with the corpses of ants.  Awesome.  So I do what any housewife would do (I think)  and I spray them more.  Then sweep the remnants up.  However not wanting to be outdone, I can't seem to sweep them out of the grout.  Of course.

And yeah, I'm pretty sure I got crop dusted while waiting for my doctor's appointment...

I think today may be a long day.

Xoxo

Riley Writes 

Why are my dreams so crazy?

It's four a.m here in Guam.  I'm going to apologize right now for the spelling errors, non existent grammar and other thing because my poor eyes have not yet adjusted to the screen and also, I'm still kinda half asleep.

I had a bad dream.

I don't know if you remember the entry Nightmares of the not so horrific nature (read it, you may wet your pants having a laugh at my expense) so obviously, there's a theme to this entry.

I think this is what I get for watching Dave Chappelle, reading CNN and browsing Pinterest right before bed.  So I suppose I had this coming. I don't even know where to begin.

My dream starts out with ordering a round shots for my friends and I.  The bartender was kind of a douche and charged us 35 dollars for lower end shots.  I go to grab my wallet and when I come back, I notice my friend is drunk (I don't know how that happened since the dream just started) and she has the bartender by the neck of the shirt and is telling him that not only is he a shitty bartender, but she hates her life.

*Fast forward through the removal of us from the bar, paying my bar tab with Monopoly money, and wandering the streets of Guam/Puerto Rico/Pensacola while subsequently trying to get my friend to get her shit together because she's leaving her bags (because we just went shopping?) everywhere.  Here's where it actually gets interesting.

In a fit, my darling friend (who I'll name Veronica since I don't actually know this person in real life) takes off running while shedding her purse/shopping bags/leftovers on a random table.  After our other friend (whom I also don't know in real life) subdue her, I go back to the table to find a bunch of guys sitting at said table.  We converse for a little bit, they say they didn't take anything and before I know it, I look up and there is a tall Korean girl with too much makeup, a fake weave and an attitude staring down at us.

"Hey you girl want to be with boys? I have someting fo you!"

And then she angrily throws her McDonalds fried shrimp, still in the box, at my head.  Yeah, just take that in for a minute.  Of course, I'm not to be outdone so I calmly take my shoes off, set my purse down and say something to the affect of "Since y'all said you haven't stolen anything, you can watch my shit while I beat a bitch."

There was one opposition but the others were cheering me on because this crazy bitch was provoking a lion.  And seriously, who throws their fried shrimp at a random woman?  And why does she have all this makeup on?  All I know is, I'm about to wipe the floor with her (not knowing if it would cause more harm that good.)  So I start walking up the spiral staircase as I catch her halfway running up to the midway landing (this building is literally stairs) and she starts taking off her weave and fake eyelashes while provoking me in broken English.

"Oh girl, you want to be with boys, I mess you up.  Lemme take of my weave because I am going to keel you."

I use this opportunity to grapple with her, take her down in a sleeper hold/her head in a leg lock while she's biting my under thigh.  Who does this crazy biatch think she is?

After subduing her, I check her pulse to make sure she's still alive (which she is because I'm no killer and I was rather tuckered after fighting to get my legs around her neck).  Her makeup was off, her eyebrows removed, she was slumped up against a wall.  Sleeping peacefully, I might add. I decided enough was enough.

I walk back outside, answering questions to curious questions about what exactly went on in there.  "Did you kill her?"

"Hell no, do I look like the type of person who could do that?  I just taught her a mere lesson in fucking with people you don't know."

Then the one opposing gentleman rushes in to check on her and by this time, she's awake.  He brings her outside where she acts apologetic, crying a bit to heighten just exactly how bad I maimed her (which wasn't at all.  Not a scratch on her).  Being the bigger person, I gather my things (mostly because this time I feel like I really will be the bejesus out of her) and continue to my friends who have left me because I said I'd catch up.

I walk about 15 steps and this bitch throws her wallet at the back of my head.  I scream back to the group "I hope y'all saw that because I'm really going to fuck shit up now."

So the gloves come off and while we're in a heated tug of war over her wallet while she keeps screaming "It no hurt, it just cardboard!  Why you so angry white guh? Because I give you something? Oh you no like shrimp? Dat's okay, I beat you up instead."  I reach in and grab a five to give to the homeless man ( I didn't say this was a politically correct dream) who's running by, so maybe he decides to mug her.  Then he does mug her, which gives me ample time to run away but I don't get far.

And then (this is where Pinterest comes up and I don't even watch Dr. Who...yet anyways)  Daleks (which I'm not even sure what they really do, I'm sorry Whovians.) show up and start unloading their inner machine guns while I take to the ground.  When I get up, I scream "COVER ME!" even though everything is peaceful and no one is around...except Doug...and Skeeter.  Yeah that Doug and Skeeter.

And this is why I can't seem to sleep.  Why did she throw her shrimp at me?  Sweet Jesus.

Riley Writes

Zucchini noodles for us all! Hooray!

My cravings for pasta haven't subsided even though I have been steering away from it.  The other night I was craving spaghetti something fierce.  I asked Zach if he would make dinner and immediately regretted my decision to do so.  I figured he would stop by the commissary, pick up a frozen pizza and some of my other favorite non paleo items and we would have a feast of unhealthy epic proportions because I have loose morals and no self control.  All in all, that probably would have never actually happened.  It would have been tacos.

Instead I asked him to pick up spaghetti sauce and zucchini because I was finally going to make zucchini noodles!

All in all, it was incredibly easy, mostly labor free dinner that yielded awesome results.  I was able to eat dinner, get full and not feel disgusting after I ate my "noodles".

Basically, I julienned (is that the right word?) my zucchini, sliced it long ways with my mandolin slicer and then sliced it in to matchsticks.  Made my meatballs with some herbs (don't forget the sea salt and pepper as I always seem to do!) and put them in a covered pan to cook.  I heated up my skillet with some olive oil and garlic for the zucchini, cooked them til they were almost translucent and of course, didn't take a picture.

I used 4 medium zucchinis and a little over a pound of hamburger.  Be mindful of the sauce you choose.  Look at the ingredients.  If you can't pronounce it, it's probably not a whole/real food.  You can make your own spaghetti sauce by searching for recipes on Pinterest because I don't have that to provide to you.

So that's pretty much it.  Not my most amazing post but you get the picture :)

I'm cooking up some big things in my kitchen lately.  Stay tuned.
Xoxo
Riley Writes