It’s called the when-in-New-England-eat-lobster-whenever-possible diet.
And so far I’m loving it.
Unlike my earlier summer diet, three days of nothing but juice, this is a welcome, and much healthier, change. Even better, the lobster diet is low in calories, before you take into account all the butter.
So when up north, the diet must adapt. Although a vegetarian in title, as a New Englander, I kept fish in my diet. A vegetarian for health and nutrition reasons rather than environmental ethics/activism, I still rarely it. Since I don’t buy fish to cook, there are only a few occasions when I actually eat it. When at home in New England for the summer is one of those times.
A picture says a thousand words, so why not bother with more writing when I can show my enthusiasm for lobster crepes and two pounders? Continue reading
All I want is a cookie. Or a giant cone of ice cream, with sprinkles. But I can’t have either of them, or any other food for that matter. Until Saturday.
Let me explain.
About a month or so ago one of my coworkers touted these great tasting juices sold at her workout boutique. Another coworker, familiar with the product from her yoga studio, also chimed in about her affection for the juices. As a fellow foodie and a workout fiend, I was intrigued. Continue reading
I am currently in a love-hate relationship.
Right now it is mostly based in hate since artichokes and I are not in good favor with one another.
1. I’m alive.
2. I promise.
3. Junior year has been busy.
4. Really busy.
5. So busy that any free time I have is spent watching episodes of the Good Wife, obsessing over Penn Badgley in Girl Gossip, hot yoga and looking at too many pointless Georgetown-related tumblrs.
6. And it is about to get worse.
7. Finals have arrived.
8. One sit-down exam, three papers, 25 pages, and 10 days separate me from summer.
9. Unless you count the extra week spent working at school, then it is 18 days.
10. It cannot come soon enough. Continue reading
Clearly I have been in a blogging rut.
It is not so much that I have nothing to write about it; in fact I have plenty of stories about late night Gossip Girl-watching sessions to visits to U-Street to free Sprinkles Cupcakes (actually all stories from just one night!). Unfortunately, however, since coming back from spring break I have been swamped with more time sensitive and, arguably, more important priorities (i.e. homework) that has kept me from posting. And while I did promise once again to make a conscious effort to blog, things like my thesis proposal, papers about Kant and newspaper production have kept me a little preoccupied.
Recognizing a need for some motivation and commitment to lure me back into the blogosphere, I stumbled upon the Foodie Penpals program. The brainchild of Lindsay Livingston at The Lean Green Bean, the project aims to connect food bloggers and readers beyond the World Wide Web through the exchange of food-filled care packages.
Can you tell I’m back at school already?
Admittedly, I did try to post this earlier today while waiting at the airport for nearly three hours, but the poor Internet connection prohibited me from getting a signal strong enough to save a post.
Considering that it is currently 11:47 p.m., or 12:47 a.m. if you have already sprung the clocks forward, I thought I would keep this post short and sweet. I know I have been promising a recap of Seaworld, but there are too many fishy puns and Finding Nemo references to write, so that post will, again, have to be pushed back at least another day.
However, I will include some pictures from the day exploring the deep blue sea, as well as lots of other snapshots from my week in paradise.
I can’t remember exactly when it was, but recently I learned an Italian phrase that I had never heard before: “fare la scarpetta.” Roughly translated “to do the little shoe,” the terms refer to the act of taking a piece of bread and soaking up the remnants of gravy or soup or whatever meal leftovers remain.
Upon investigating, I learned that the “shoe” reference is a metaphorical description of the bread. Like a shoe being dragged in the mud, the bread soaks up the sauce and becomes saturated with flavor. Continue reading