the time i did whole30

Yesterday was Day 30 of my Whole30 experiment.

There is no need to explain what that is, because listen, there are a bazillion websites and blog posts that do that well enough. The program's basic rules from the actual source are here, for those interested.

On those bazillion websites and blog posts, there are stories of motivations and results and lessons as wide-ranging as the personalities of the people who participate. Not so surprising.

Also not surprising, I have my own takeaways, and sometimes I need to get all the abstract in my brain out into the written word, and into order. So here we go.

why i did it 

a simple experiment //  I read It Starts With Food this past summer in about a day-and-a-half, sitting on the beach. I don't know why I found it all so fascinating, but I did. I wondered if I could do it, doubtful I could ever eliminate dairy from my diet for even a day, because me and cheese. We are tight. But for about the twelve previous months, I'd overhauled my eating habits, and felt like dairy could potentially still be a stronghold. In many ways, this was a simple experiment to see if that was the case.

an exercise in discipline //  Years ago I was notorious for extreme new year's resolutions, but lately, not so much. I have trained for half marathons before, and lately, not so much. These kinds of physical disciplines are helpful to me, and while they're hard, I miss them when I'm not practicing them. Thirty days seemed like a reasonable period to exercise this particular discipline.

why i didn't do it

to lose weight //  There were no scales involved before, during, or after the thirty days, and I only measured results by how I felt.

the hardest part

game days, parties, and generally being social //  When I'm working a football game day, I am a sucker for a chicken tender. It was tough to pass those by for four weeks. There was also a party I attended where the food spread was sheer torture. Party food is my favorite, so munching on the sad, raw vegetables without hummus or dip or anything good felt like a very sick joke. When I met friends for dinner, I ordered a salad with no cheese, bacon or croutons and took my own Whole30-compliant salad dressing. A little embarrassing, but not the end of the world.
 
what surprised me

it's not that hard //  It just really wasn't. I loved eating big meals, three times a day. I loved trying new recipes, and new foods I'd previously been nervous to try. (Ghee just sounds creepy.) Now prior to these thirty days, I wasn't eating fast food and the likes every day, so perhaps my habits weren't so hard to break. But really, to quote the book, It is not hard. Beating cancer is hard. Birthing a baby is hard. Losing a parent is hard. Drinking your coffee black. Is. Not. Hard. That's truth, people. Perspective is everything.

i did not experience unlimited energy //  Of all of the testimonials I read, 90% of them told of boundless energy, beginning around Day 15. Waking up before one's alarm kind of energy. I didn't have that. I'm not sure I'll ever experience that, for any reason. I did not feel sluggish, but I certainly still rely on my alarm.

reverse cravings //  My cheese cravings, which I thought would be unbearable, were practically non-existent, and still are. My sweet tooth, which previously was mostly non-existent, unexpectedly reared its ugly head. I wanted to face plant into a bucket of chocolate chip cookie dough. I haven't yet, but I might do it soon.

what i learned

there is sugar in everything //  When you can eat nothing with added sugar, and you're reading labels like a crazy person, you discover a whole lot of food has a whole lot of sugar. I will probably always read labels moving forward. It's astonishing.

there is freedom in not counting anything //  With the exception of some basic guidelines on how much protein to eat per meal, there is no counting anything. I felt liberated from the bondage of counting calories, trying to hit macro-nutrient percentages, and weighing food portions. It was glorious.

my tips for success 

read the book //  You can learn enough information to successfully complete the program from online sources (and the aforementioned bazillion websites and blog posts), but you may not understand the whys of it all without reading the book. I felt well equipped with knowledge throughout the thirty days, confident in what was allowed, and what wasn't.

choose wisely your 30 days //  It is no accident that my thirty days ended two days before Thanksgiving. You will likely not avoid every dinner out with friends, but doing this challenge over a vacation or holiday is asking for a fail. Be smart about your timing, and you'll be better prepared to win.
 
meal planning is king //  Over the previous year, I had made a concerted effort to plan and prepare my meals so I wouldn't rely on fast food in a pinch, or eat out for no reason. So for Whole30, this was not a hard shift for me, but I know it was a big part of helping me stay disciplined. It took the guesswork out of what was in my food.

find favorites before you start //  Pinterest and Google will yield so many recipes and meal ideas, your head will want to explode. But, do a brief dress rehearsal ahead of time to identify a couple of dishes that you like. You can rely on those when you need a boost. I had a handful of recipes that I loved to cook, but I also convenience items in my freezer that were good in a pinch.

get a buddy //  A friend and I tackled this together. Our conversations for thirty days were Whole30-centric, and while slightly obsessive, necessary. We compared tips, recipes, and general frustrations. And we shared countdown chains.

what i'll do now

feast //  The book encourages a period of calculated re-introduction of foods, in order to identify specific ways those foods impact your body. I will not participate in this method, for I will be feasting with my family on outrageous amounts of gluten and sugar. Because Thanksgiving. It's what we do.

balance //  Then I will feel terrible, because that's what gluten and sugar do for me, and I will re-calibrate. It will take me some time to strike the balance, but I imagine I will eat with heightened awareness and choose my indulgences carefully. There's wisdom in moderation, but also in fueling my body well.

Have you tried Whole30? What were your takeaways?
 

o holy week

It's no secret that holy week is my favorite seven days of the year. It's commencing in (all together now!) five days, and it's worthy, and I mean super-worthy, of celebrating.

For loving it so, I'm not sure I've ever put out one festive decoration. (Christmas gets all the love.)

Meanwhile, I've been piddling in Adobe Illustrator (remember me mentioning those beginner tutorials?), and decided to design a few mini-prints in honor of holy week.

Why not?

(Let's not start with how Easter bunnies aren't biblical. I know this. But they're cute!)

This one's my favorite. When I'm feeling frustrated or defeated, no matter the time of  year, I remind myself that Sunday's comin'.

These flowers were tricky little ones, but they turned out cheerful, I'd say.

And who doesn't love a one-of-a-kind dyed Easter egg?

Maybe I'll print these out, frame them up, and let them show off on a bare wall at my house for the next couple of weeks.

O Holy Week, you deserve it.

let's chat (about random things)

Let's chat about some randomness, shall we?

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Dry shampoo. I gave it zero chance of working on my fine hair, which I wash every day.

I am still not over the fact that this miracle can by Suave gives me a chance to skip the daily blowout once in awhile. I love the way it smells. And its price (less than $3)! 

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I'm starting this study on Revelation.
I confess I've been intimidated about this Bible book for a lot of years, but I know I'm cheating myself. Time to get over myself.

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Italy. It's only 23 days away. (What?!)
I can hardly stand it.

...................................

Equally exciting is Holy Week, which is only 11 days away.
It's my most favorite week of the year.

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Adobe Illustrator. Just two weeks ago I had no idea what clipping masks were, or how to live trace. Love learning new things, and am asking myself why I don't do things like this more often.

Are you chatting with your friends this week, over a good meal on a patio in the sunshine? It's too pretty not to!

thankful thursday #175

I'm gonna call it, folks. This week. It's time for it to end.

It's been a challenging season at work of late, for a litany of reasons that wouldn't make a bit of sense to you unless you worked in the office next to me for the past lots-of months. No need to chase that rabbit.

But this week in particular, I felt ill-equipped, inadequate, and flailing. Like I never had answers, or direction, or skills, and that every step I took was the wrong one.

Do you know this feeling? The devil loves it. He loves it when we're feeling trapped in the dead of winter.

But, spring is peeking through, literally and figuratively. And when spring comes, so does renewal, and life. There are some seeds that want to sprout, if you nurture them, and grow them.

So this week, while I felt beaten down by the proverbial winter, I stepped a little into spring, into something new, and started an online beginner's class, to learn Adobe Illustrator.

I'm not dreaming of a second career in graphic design. But to have even my tip toes in the sea of creativity is refreshing, and invigorating.

It makes me thankful for spring, and for the promise of new things to come.

Has spring creeped into your world yet? Have you felt that spring itch, where you're ready for a seed to sprout?

Go on, be grateful!

hello monday (greet spring)

Somehow the sunshine and warmer temperatures make Mondays a little more bearable, don't you think? How about some hellos, for the first time since the time change?

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Hello, Mom's birthday!

So glad I got to celebrate her this weekend.

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Hello, fun pop of spring color on my fingernails.

It's called "Rose Bowl" by Essie. Puts me in the mood for spring!

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Hello, countdown to Italy.

You started at 200-some-odd days, and now you're at 32. Happy, happy.

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Hello, learning something new.

I'm excited about some online beginner classes for Adobe Illustrator.

It's good to stretch the brain and learn a new skill.

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Hello, outdoor grill.

I sure have enjoyed giving you a chance to shine this week.

What in your world has you greeting spring?

the day i tried quinoa for the first time

At the start of the new year, I shared some goals for 2014, and the food I wanted to try was quinoa.

I first heard about this protein-packed grain a few years ago when the gluten-free craze was overtaking the world.  Those culinary fads usually make me roll my eyes, because I love foods because they taste great, not because they're trendy.

I'd been afraid of it, too, because experts call it a "super-food," and as so many super-foods go, I feared it would taste like cardboard. Or dirt.

But I do like to experiment in the kitchen, and if quinoa is as awesome as everyone says, I'm willing to try it out (albeit seven years after it makes headlines).

So I did this weekend.

Given the "this may taste like cardboard" reservation, I decided to try it first in a prepared salad, to ease myself into the World of Quinoa.

It worked. If you're new to quinoa, try this (and don't be intimidated by the long ingredient list; you'll have most of it in your pantry):

Mexican Quinoa Salad
Serves 6 as a side, 4 as an entree

1 c. uncooked quinoa
2 c. chicken broth (or you can just use water)
1/2 red onion, diced
1 clove garlic, crushed
3/8 c. lemon juice
1/2 c. chopped fresh parsley
1/2 c. chopped fresh cilantro
1 tsp. dried oregano
1/2 tsp. dried basil
1/2 tsp. cumin
1/2 tsp. onion powder
1/4 tsp. garlic powder
salt, to taste
1 (16-oz.) can black beans, rinsed and drained
1 (15-oz.) can corn, drained
1 (2.25-oz.) can sliced black olives
1 large tomato, diced small
2-4 Tbsp. olive oil

1. Cook quinoa according to package instructions (using chicken broth instead of water, if you'd like). Let cool.


2. In a large bowl, mix together quinoa, diced onion, garlic, and lemon juice. (I let the crushed garlic clove simply flavor the lemon juice. I took it out before serving.)


3. Stir into quinoa mixture the parsley and cilantro, seasonings, black beans, corn, olives, and tomatoes. Season with salt to taste.


4. Drizzle the salad with olive oil just before serving, or on your single-serving plate. (I'd probably not drizzle any portion that may be leftovers; I think it might congeal in the fridge and be gross.)

This was so delicious with some grilled chicken, and I ate it for lunch as leftovers. I feel like a super-food super-hero right now. So. Much. Protein.

Have you already been on the quinoa bandwagon? Let me hear your favorite recipes!

a few things i need to remember about being an adult

Recently I've been navigating a new experience. The experience is unimportant, really, but the lessons are not. Here are a few things I'm learning, or re-learning, of late, and would be wise to remember:

you just can't always know how people will react to a scenario //  You think you know people, like really really know them, and then they do something to make you go, Huh? Didn't see that coming. People have all sorts of factors, internal and external, that contribute to the decisions they make in any given moment. They are complex beings, and will forever surprise us, and challenge us to better understand them.

and that's what living in community looks like //  When God made humans, the crowning glory of his creation, he made us all different. On purpose. Because one day, he would use those differences to refine us. Those differences force us to exercise compassion and empathy and forgiveness, and although it hurts, it's what pleases the Lord.

the flesh is hard to fight //  It's easy to rant and rail about how selfish people are, question their motives, wonder about trusting them ever again, and fantasize about blowing up in their face. That's your flesh talking. But the hard thing, and usually the right thing, is the opposite of all of that, and following through on that will always be a battle against your flesh.

doing the right thing doesn't always yield immediate reward, and it might not yield earthly reward at all //  I made a decision and followed through on what I believed to be the right decision, and just as I started to feel good about that, it bit me. There was some fallout that was not earth-shattering, but enough to make me angry, and very aware that doing the right thing hardly ever leads to warm and fuzzy feelings.

keep some wise people around you to affirm those right decisions //  When you're feeling not-so-warm-and-fuzzy, and defeated, and telling yourself that the world is a terrible place, it's important to have some cheerleaders in your corner for pep talks. And those people probably were the ones to encourage you to the do the right thing in the first place. They are winners. Work hard at having them around.

Being an adult is hard sometimes. What lessons have been your hardest to learn?

a note about quesadillas en masse

Was that Super Bowl a bust, or what? Gosh, it was boring. And the lovely Lori wasn't able to co-host the party this year, thanks to the winter blitz that sent the entire I-20 corridor into an icy tailspin. That made me sad.

But, there is some redemption to be found in good food.

Last year, we thought pulling off a San Francisco- and Baltimore-themed menu was hard. And you know what? We were wrong.

Denver and Seattle are for-real hard.

Did you know Denver is known for this "specialty" called Rocky Mountain Oysters? If you aren't familiar, look it up -- I was having none of that.

I also thought slinging fresh fish around like they do at a Seattle market might be a little much.

So you see the challenge here.

I can't say this was my favorite Super Bowl menu I've ever done ...

... but there were a couple of winners tucked in that menu.

See those Seattle Smoked Salmon Quesadillas up there? Man, they were good. But risky! I wasn't sure how successful their holding time would be, nor how they could be made en masse ahead of time.

So I rolled the dice on this technique, and so pleased I did!

Smoked Salmon Quesadillas for the Masses
(and Plain Cheese Ones for the Picky Eaters)
Makes 8 whole quesadillas

16 soft taco flour tortillas (I used Mission)
16 oz. block pepper jack cheese, grated
8 oz. smoked salmon
16 oz. Mexican cheese blend, grated
Sour cream and salsa for serving

Long before your guests arrive, you're going to brown the tortillas and assemble the quesadillas. (And when I say "long before," I mean a couple of hours.)

To brown the tortillas, heat a skillet over medium heat (my cast iron skillet worked like a charm). Coat with butter, and brown the tortillas one at a time for about 2 minutes on each side, or until they're your favorite golden brown color. (While the tortilla is cooking on its first side, butter the top of it, so when you flip it, the other side gets a little bit golden, too.)

Now all of this is a little tedious, because you're buttering up the skillet and the tops of tortillas like a crazy person, before each tortilla hits the heat, but it's worth it. Stay the course.

While you're assembling these beauts, pick the prettiest golden sides to be on the outsides. So on your first tortilla, evenly spread 1/2 c. pepper jack cheese. Tear 2 oz. of the salmon into small pieces and evenly distribute on top of the cheese, and finish with another 1/2 c. pepper jack cheese. Top with another tortilla. You'll make three more of these.

The plain cheese ones are even easier. Use your favorite Mexican blend, or cheddar, or whatever you love. Use about 1 c. (or a nice generous handful) for each quesadilla. Make four of those.

Stack these all up on some wax paper, and set aside until you're ready to bake them off (maybe in the fridge if you're talking about a few hours).

When you're ready, preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Place as many quesadillas as you can on a baking sheet (I was only able to do two on each pan), and cook for about 10 minutes. They'll be crispy, with ooey gooey cheesy goodness bursting out of the sides. Use a pizza cutter and slice each quesadilla into 6 triangles.

They will obviously not stay hot forever, but they're still tasty even after the heat has left the party. Since I was only baking two at a time (one of each flavor), they came out intermittently throughout the evening, and so that was how mine went down. Serve them up with salsa and sour cream, and you'll have happy guests.

Of course, you could put anything in the world in these, and keep the same technique -- chicken, steak, grilled veggies. Yum. Yum to all of it.

The revelation here is that we don't have to be scared of preparing quesadillas ahead of time, and en masse, so let these little guys revolutionize your next party!

thankful thursday #156

On some Sundays growing up, when Dad was out of town and Mom was in the choir, I'd sit in church with a friend and her mom. To keep us occupied -- and quiet -- during the sermon, her mom would place a King James Version bible in each of our laps, open them to a seemingly obscure passage, point to the chapter, and in so doing, silently imply our instructions.

I distinctly remember feeling like I was reading a foreign language. Who is "Thou?" What are they sayeth-ing?

Some things change: These days, I don't typically read from the King James Version bible.

Other things never change: Sometimes I still feel like I'm reading a foreign language. No matter the translation, some of the words still trip me up, and for whatever the reason, I struggle to understand concepts that seem way over my head.

Fortunately, though, this path of following Jesus isn't meant to be traveled alone! I'm feeling grateful tonight for the people in my life who hash out the Truth with me, give me permission to ask questions, share with me their insights, and encourage me to keep digging for answers.

I bet you have people like that around you, too? Show them some appreciation this week. Go on, be grateful!

thankful thursday #153

Just over a year ago, I had this awkward conversation that, along with other personal experiences, got me thinking hard about the issue of church segregation.

About how, if I feel like the church has cordoned off the single population, or the young families demographic, or the senior adults, then I should think about my part in bridging those gaps.

In other words, what was I doing in my own life to better connect to people outside my so-called category of friends?

I wasn't doing much, unfortunately. So I decided to pray more intentionally for opportunities to visit with other people, specifically women older than me, outside my group of single friends. And even more specifically, married women, because they are the ones with whom I often feel the most disconnected.

I need to be challenged in that way: to relate to women that I wrongly assume are incapable of discussing anything other than their families.

And so the process began, and the Lord has been faithful to introduce some new friendships in my life, slowly, and gently, over a period of many months.

Tonight I spent the most delightful two hours with one of these women, and oh, I am grateful for it. It was surprising and unexpected, but I am hopeful it is the beginning of many more hours to soak in some stimulating conversation.

There is so much to learn, and wisdom to glean, from the people living very different lives than we do. Here's to de-segregating!

Do you have a friend like that? Go on, be grateful for them!

some honesty about a 13.1

Recently I ran my third half marathon.

I average one of these every two years, because it takes me about that long to forget the awfulness I feel after running 13.1 miles.

I'm not crazy-strict about a race training schedule, and goodness knows, I don't aim for speed. My goal is not unreasonable; it's usually to complete the race, preferably with no walking.

At the core, the race is usually just an extreme measure to keep my heart at a respectable level of fitness.

In other words, there is no real over-achieving happening here.

God bless you serious runners who are fast, who never deviate from however-many-miles-a-week training schedules, and who feel energized after running 13.1 or 26.2 or 100 miles. I can't relate.

I had trained well (for me), and felt reasonably confident. I thought it a good sign that the rain stopped, just as I made my way to the starting line, and that the August Georgia heat hit a record low that day. I'd hydrated like a champion all week. And I had an odd bib number.

The stars were aligning. I felt good.

My first nine miles were probably the best consecutive nine I've ever run, but Miles Ten and Eleven are historically my toughest, so mentally I hunkered down for those beasts. And beasts they were, with wicked hills that mocked me.

When my calves began to tighten around Mile Ten, I took some Gu and some Gatorade for a little extra push, and I slipped into my mouth the starlight peppermint that a running expert recommended for a sugar fix. I was sure the cramps would pass.

At Mile 11.5, my right calf tensed, and gripped me so violently that I went airborne and fell to the ground, letting out a screech that I'm certain sounded overdramatic and unnecessary. That muscle did not relax for at least seven minutes. I know it.

I cried on the ground, massaged my calf, and accepted any and all offerings from concerned runners who came to my aid: salt pills (yes, thank you); coconut water (sure, I'll try it); cold bottled water (rub this on your calf); a packet of Gu (espresso flavor sounds horrible but anything is worth trying).

I was humiliated, but in too much pain to care.

Dear, sweet runners offered to sit with me, until medics arrived, but I begged them to keep going, fearing they would sacrifice their own personal bests.

Medics offered to take me off the course and drive me back to the finish, but I couldn't agree to it. I would feel like a much bigger failure than I already did, if I didn't try to keep going.

And I did. But it felt like a walk of shame.

For the last mile and a half, I walked -- no, limped, because I was that pitiful -- and could not contain these thoughts:

I'm so embarrassed to tell my running friends back home about how the race went.

I was literally wailing on the ground. That was mortifying.

I am WALKING the last mile and a half.

This will be my worst time ever.

I didn't meet my goal.

For obvious reasons, the race was a disappointment. And fortunately, I have great encouragers in my corner who make me feel better:

I've never even run a 5k! You should feel great about even training for one of those!

Sometimes it's a bigger accomplishment to finish the race peppered with adversity than it is to just run the smoothest race of your life.

It's all true. But the disappointment still lingers.

Disappointment that I couldn't understand what went wrong. Disappointment that all the preparation seemed like a waste. Disappointment in falling short.

But more than all of that, I was disappointed that even after years of working to accept defeat, and to extend some grace to myself when I fall short -- and I do, God knows I do -- that old demon of perfectionism still creeps into my heart now and again, and fights for a foothold there.

I wish it weren't so; but it is.

As I've reflected over the past couple of weeks, I still feel the residual pangs of disappointment. But it's also been a good reminder that our biggest battles aren't won quickly or easily, and that sometimes, they have to be fought over and over and over again.

We have to keep asking for the ugly parts of us to decrease, so that Jesus and his fullness will increase.

Fortunately, I'm able to laugh at myself while recounting the story to my friends back home. Overdramatic crying; outrageous pain; downing every food, beverage or pill in sight, no matter that they all came from complete strangers. It makes for a good story.

And stories always make for good lessons, when we're willing to learn them.

thankful thursday #64

At work, I've been using a Dell laptop for almost five years.

Five years ago, it was fantastic. 

One year ago, it had run its course.

For the past few months, it's been nothing more than an overweight piece of metal that has daily tempted me to hurl it out the window.

Tomorrow will mark two weeks since we got new computers, praise the Lord!  I wasn't fully prepared to proclaim my gratitude last week, because as you can imagine, the transition has been a challenge for all very normal reasons.

And this wasn't just a switch, this was a Big Switch.  From PCs to Macs.

I'm finally getting the hang of my new normal, and I'm appreciating the opportunity to learn a new way of doing things.

But I'm not ashamed to ask you Mac lovers out there: what're your favorite tips and tricks that I should know?  I'm thankful (in advance) for your wisdom.

And speaking of you, what're you happy about this week?  Go on, be grateful!

a chocolate sheet cake offering

I don't have a very big sweet tooth, but my mom has some pretty spectacular dessert recipes that when prepared, make me morph into some kind of unrecognizable addict.

Like somehow I can justify eating three pieces of cake a day.

Her chocolate sheet cake is one of those, and I thought I might like to try it out this weekend to honor a friend's birthday.

As most of her best recipes go, they're well, loose, in places.  Her macaroni and cheese, for example, calls for no specific ratio of macaroni to milk to eggs.  It's just, "until it's the right consistency."

Right.

This sheet cake recipe is my Mimi's recipe, and it has a couple of interpretive elements.  For one, the cake batter is to be poured into "the pan," which refers to one pan.  And I don't mean one particular sized pan, but the actual pan that Mimi used, and that Mom now uses.  In other words, the one I don't have.

Mom doesn't know the exact size, but only that "it's bigger than a 9 x 13." 

And the icing calls for "1-1½ boxes of confectioner's sugar."

My grandmother's and mom's generations are not making it easy on daughters like me to carry on our favorite cooking traditions, I tell you.

Needless to say, between the wrong pan size and the un-measurements (and my omission of some critical vanilla in the icing), Round One was a disaster.

I called Mom today to report back.  "I just finished making my second chocolate sheet cake, if that tells you anything."

How often this happens in our spiritual lives!  Despite the guide and instructions that we've been given by the Lord -- and no, the specifics are not always explicit -- we mess up all the time.

Disappointing?  Sure.   Costly of time and energy (and another round of ingredients)?  Uh-huh.  Normal?  Absolutely.

But praise Jesus, he is gracious, and generous with second chances.  He allows us opportunities to learn from our mistakes, and to learn his ways, that we often struggle to understand.

Mom was very sweet and said to me, "Well, it'll get easier when you make it more.  That's probably one of those we should've done together the first time."

I think God's like that, too.  I think he knows when we're trying, and encourages us to keep at it.  And no matter what we're doing, or how many times we've done it, I imagine he's always saying to us, Do it with me.  It'll turn out better that way.

Gracious Lord, continue to remind me that you are the God of second chances, and that whether I'm on the first, tenth, or hundredth chance, I'm better off doing life with You.

And please, Lord, let this chocolate sheet cake be an acceptable birthday dessert for my friend offering to you.

french cuisine and the teacher's pet

Lori, my foodie friend, is well known for her excellence in gift-giving.

For my birthday this year, she bought two spots for us in a Saturday morning cooking class at Cafe de Paris, a Birmingham restaurant that features French cuisine.  (When I tell you her gifting is legit, I do not lie!)

She and I arrived this morning to fresh-baked croissants, hot bacon, orange juice and coffee, and an eclectic bunch of classmates.

In particular, when I overheard one of them speaking in French to the chef, I immediately identified her as the teacher's pet and decided to keep her at a safe distance.

After a leisurely brunch, Chef Serge showed us to our preparation table, and I suited up with a spunky red apron and my game face.



Chef Serge was a delight, encouraging us in his heavy French accent to talk to our food, and preaching that anyone can make magic in the kitchen.  I loved the way his passion for food sort of bubbled out of him so effortlessly.

His big life truth came through a wine tasting, which I found a little bit humorous.  He explained that while we were all tasting the same wine, we'd each experience something different, because after all, we are each unique, and made with different palates.

Palates aside, I was just thankful in that moment to be quite different from Teacher's Pet.  Upon our first chopping exercise, she was quick to share that she had been a sous chef in Chapel Hill some thirty years ago.

That might have been interesting, except her head was close to exploding, her ego was so out of control.

We pressed on, though, and Chef Serge guided us through recipes for a tomato and zucchini quiche, and an almond pear tart, both of which involved from-scratch dough, which never really goes well with me in the kitchen.

That could have been cause for serious trepidation, but in the end Lori and I were pleased with our crust, and with the finished products.



Speaking of crusts, I overheard Teacher's Pet commenting that someone's crust was "overworked" and "not flaky, like it's made here in the South."  I felt sorry for Chef Serge then, since she apparently is a regular at his restaurant.

Later when she pressed him, asking multiple times if he was sure the pear tart recipe didn't call for butter, I wanted to punch her in the face.

On a brighter note, one of my favorite things about today was that we didn't have to clean up our delicious mess that we left behind.



Although Teacher's Pet was a grace-stretcher, she absolutely did not steal my joy.  I indulged in every bite of every last comforting carbohydrate.

It was a happy way to start my day off, and I plan to go back and visit Chef Serge and his sous chef.



The real sous chef, that is.  Not Teacher's Pet.