I'm the Morningest

I have a bunch of grand plans for exciting posts - fur realz, they're all drafted and EVERYTHING - but my parents' impending return home has forced my attention on more domestic affairs, like hiding as best as possible that the house hasn't been vaccuumed for over a month, the fish have been fed biweekly at best and the towering pile of evidence that indicates that my broher and I drink a bottle of wine a night.  Sigh.

But for now, I would like to share an alarming revelation of adulthood: I fucking love mornings. I'm a goddamn morning person! Case in point: It is 7 am. I have gone for a run, stretched, showered, dressed, had a cup of coffee, checked my personal and work emails, paid a parking ticket and, basically, conquered the slothful laziness of youth.

I used to be a person who would sleep until 2 pm and rejoice. Like it was some great accomplishment: give me my I'm-cool-I-don't-give-a-fuck-sleeping-in trophy nao plz. However, such boldness should probably be tempered with some sort of abundently active post-2pm life. Which I hardly posses now. My job has me rather tuckered by the time I get the hell out of there at 6:00ifI'mlucky. I usually want to dive straight into a glass of wine (see above). So exercise, household chores, etc, simply don't happen as is. So if I want to get shit done, it's got to happen before I leave for work at 8:00. So, basically, the flipside of conquering Spain before most people have had coffee is that you have to sacrifice the standard night life enjoyed by most.

I care not. I rock the Kasbah. And I beat my best 1 mile time this morning (the crowd goes crazy).

Love you.

When I Dip You Dip, We Dip

Ok, I just stumbled across a blog post on "hip dips." This is a phenomenon which I have bemoaned under the title "my 3 inverse-3." Ever since I went through puberty, I had marvelled and cringed over the fact that I don't have hips; I have love handles and saddlebags and this flat indented portion in between. I had attributed this to going through puberty at the turn of the millenium, when low slung Silver jeans were my uniform, adhered to my body with thick riveted black belts. Seriously -what were we thinking? But no - this is not some obscure poor-fashion-induced phenomenon I would learn to rue (more than the photographic evidence that I really dressed like that): it's a thing, and others call it, much more articulately, hip dips.
This post on The Skinny tumblr made clear this most loathed part of my body (and my friends' bodies - Aly! It's a thing!) is all nature, not nurture. It is an unavoidable part of our physiology. Which means everyone has it. Even. Ryan. Gosling.

Ok, now go read that article right this instant.

Surviving Calgary Summer, Aid 1

For those who have not had the distinct pleasure of spending time in Calgary Alberta, I will let you in on a mixed blessing of this city; it is dry. This means that the hot weather that sent me scurrying for a/c in Montreal is simply blissful in Calgary. It does, however, mean that you dry out. Hands, hair skin; there is a lot to be said about the benefits of humidty.

With my schedule in flux, and trying, still, to get myself into a sustainable routine, moisturizing was not top priority. However, as I started to undertake a health revolution for my body - eating better and exercising more - I stumbled across a solution to that problem as well.

Walking in the doors of Planet Organic, I saw a display for this half-off organic coconut oil. I think the discount was because the label happens to be in French, which as far as skin care goes, actually makes it more covetable (if L'Oreal, L'Occitane, or La Mer are any indication). As I contemplated the jar, I remembered that at my highschool sweetheart's home, there had always been a jar of coconut oil in their shower. His brother had often suffered from dry and ashy skin, despite living on the West Coast, and nothing rehydrated his skin better than coconut oil. I had always skimmed from his supply when I had the chance, but after high school I had made one solid attempt at bringing coconut oil into my skin care regime: the Body Shop will sell you a rather miniscule bottle of oil for an arm and a leg, and as an all-over body moiturizer it just didn't go far enough for my student budget. Real coconut oil, however, is more solid, and can be applied so easily; it's a creamy solid when you are scooping it out of the jar - this helps to make sure it doesn't simply run through your fingers like astraight oil tends to - and melts once you start applying it to your skin.  And if you find the right brand, you will smell subtley and deliciously like coconut. Real coconut. Not an overwhelming coconut-perfume - just a hint of sweetness that will disappear into what ever fragrence you wear.

Oh yeah. And it works. My skin, particularly on my hands, is softening right up. The downside is that you need to give it some time to soak in - I always slick myself down straight out of the shower (but tie your hair up!), throw on a robe and pop to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee and some breakfast before getting dressed. If you're strapped for time, stick to Aveeno and avoid ruining an outfit with oil stains.

I love that it was nice enough out for a natural backdrop for my photoshoot. She Ra loved it too:

Is it 2013 yet?

Weekend two Coachella 2013 tickets have been purchased. Hope law school and life will be accomodating: I have plans.

Cauliflower and Turkey Shepard's Pie

I promised I'd post!

As spring signals all sorts of renewal, I am unsurprisingly trying to revamp myself. Read: diet. Ok, I know "diets" sound pathetic, but don't hate. I'm trying to be more aware of how I eat. I don't, however, have a whole tonne of self restraint, so putting in some concrete rules to help sort me out doesn't strike me as ridiculous or pathetic.

I am doing the 17 Day Diet: I did it in the Fall and lost about 10 lbs when starting my job at a restaurant derailed me. Now I'm back at it. But after 4 or 5 days of doing fish fillets, eggs, and chicken breasts, I started craving some comfort food. And voila, I brainstormed this...

Cauliflower and Turkey Shepard's Pie

So the 17 Day Diet banishes sugars and simple carbs, amongst other things, and so creamy mashed potato-topped Shepard's Pie was a no go. Same with the ground beef - lean proteins only. So I thought I would give mashed cauliflower and turkey pie a go. It turns out I was not the first to have this stroke of genius. Ah well. I read a number of recipes and ended up going my own way with it.

To start, I wanted to roast my cauliflower rather than steam it. Roasted cauliflower just takes on such a savoury, nutty flavour. And since I was going to have the oven on for a while, why not roast some garlic?

Well after an hour, the caulifower still wasn't easily mashable, so I pulled it out and finished it in the microwave with a generous helping of chicken broth.

Into the vitamix with it. I thickened and richened it with diet friendly fat free greek yogurt, tossed in 2 cloves of roasted garlic, salt and, my mum's secret to awesome mashed potatos, white pepper

Then I chopped carrots, mushrooms, white onion and celery. This is always way more time consuming for me than any recipe alots. 30 minute prep for a Shepard's Pie? Uh, no. Sorry.

I still had plenty of leftover garlic from the small clove I had picked up at Planet Organic, roasted and ready. I couldn't resist - all of these ingredients went into a pan, with 2 tablespoons of heated olive oil. Pop the lid on and let it simmer down.

I added ample spices before I added the ground turkey; cardamon, corriander, poultry seasoning, savoury, thyme, oregano and some parsley. Salt and pepper, obviously. A touch of ginger - I would never have thought of it, but I read it in one of the many recipes I had checked out, so I gave it a go. It was very subtle, but thoroughly seasoning the veggies - overseasoning them, even - is key. I couldn't add flour to thicken the drippings into a gravey, I couldn't add Bisto or wine, so seasoning carries this dish. Add in the turkey, and cook most of the way through. Then I added frozen peas.

Into to baking pan with it. I could have used more than one head of cauliflower, in the end. It sunk into the filling quite a bit, and I've always liked an ample layer of mashed potatoes in my classic Shepard's Pie.

I then threw it into the oven for about 40 minutes. I had been waiting to see the top brown, as most Shepard's Pie recipes called for, but with the cauliflower, already roasted, it didn't change much. I think it's best to give it a little extra time when working with ground poultry in any event.

The finished product?

Delicious. It didn't taste a thing like "diet food." My dad, who offered to go on the diet, but promptly ignored all the restrictions I listed off for him, and my younger brother, who offered no such thing, both enjoyed it. I went back for seconds. I topped it off with a sprinkle of smoked paprika and some coarse salt.

I entered it all in on MyFitnessPal app, estimating that the ample pan would give about 8 servings (those three portions were less than half the pan). The results? 220 calories, 3.2 grams of fat, 5 grams of fibre, 31 grams of protein. Seriously. Make it.

Fresh

After what has amounted to almost a year-long hiatus from blogging, I decided that, rather than author another post assuring my friends that I am intending to make a come-back (a post which would seem like a carbon-copy of my last three or four posts, all published months apart), it was time for a new home and a fresh start.

The sun is shining today in Calgary, and it is the perfect time for a rejuvenating sigh. Throw open some windows, dust off old tomes.

I'm back darlings. For real this time,