Although it may seem like I eat meatballs at every meal, I occasionally opt for different meats of the non-ball variety. (Like when I’ve run out of meatballs and don’t have the necessary ingredients to make more.) Tonight was one of those nights. With a grumbling belly and nary a meatball in sight, I decided to remix my usual spaghetti squash with some ingredients I had on hand.
Enter Spaghetti Squash with Sausage, Pesto, and Tomatoes:
Right or wrong, perfect sense or nonsense, I often do things a certain way simply because that’s the way I’ve always done them. A prime example of this ridiculous stubbornness is my method for tying shoes. I remember trying to learn the whole bunny goes round the tree and jumps in the hole spiel on a wooden practice shoe in elementary school. No matter how much I practiced, it just didn’t feel right. I’d memorized the story line, but my bunny wanted nothing to do with that stupid tree and my stinkin’ index finger kept messing up the loop. Honestly, I didn’t see what the big deal was. For weeks I’d been using my own method—the make-two-bunny-ears-then-crisscross-then-fold-one-under-and-pull-to-tighten method—and my shoe laces looked perky and perfectly bowed. So why change?
I have a lot of these little quirks, especially in the kitchen. My knife skills border on horrifying (trust me, you’d shudder if you saw me chop an onion), but hey, I get the job done. Even though I’ve nearly severed several fingers over the years, I’d never really given much thought to the dangerous method I employed to halve a spaghetti squash. I always proceeded in cutting a spaghetti squash as if it were a giant rock-hard avocado—with a knife painstakingly seesawing around the perimeter of the squash. I’m not sure what events occurred that caused my subconscious to one day realize this was a horrible HORRIBLE idea. I’m just thankful it did before I’d involuntarily amputated something.
I love to cook, but sometimes all I want is to dump a bunch of ingredients in a pot and come back an hour later to a piping hot bowl of flavorful comfort. I need my unproductive internet perusing and phantom shopping time, which means I can’t spend every ounce of my free time in the kitchen. That’s what I love about this chili. You simply brown the turkey then dump everything in the pot.
Perhaps, at first glance, the name Brown Dump Chili is unappealing to some. Given the two-step process behind the chili, I’m sure you wholeheartedly agree the name is appropriate (or, at the very least, foretelling).
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I shamelessly consider myself a meatball connoisseur. If meatballs are on the menu, you can bet your last breadstick I’m gonna order one. Just one solitary meatball is all I need for my analysis. Texture, taste, accouterments. More often than not, I’m disappointed. I’m not a fan of mushy ones and I need them to be thoroughly seasoned, preferably bobbing along in a vat of marina sauce (though I’m flexible on that stipulation). Every once in a while, about 1 in 5 tries, I will sink my teeth into an amazing meatball and for that brief moment this crazy messed up world is right again.
I have been trying to create a delicious healthified meatball recipe for YEARS, and have been wholeheartedly devoted to the cause. I’ve tried dozens of impromptu turkey meatball concoctions, but they always left something to be desired. Too dry, too poultry-ee, not meatbally enough, etc. I kept crawling back to my favorite, albeit it no-so-healthy, meatball recipe: Meatball Nirvana on Allrecipes.com. I LOVE this recipe because it results in meatballs that are juicy, flavorful, and that have the coveted sink-your-teeth-in meaty texture.
During my kid years, stuffed peppers were in the regular dinner rotation at my dad’s house. I hated them. My step mom would fill crisp green peppers with a beef mixture in the morning, pop them into the slow cooker with some tomato sauce, and when we got home in the evening we’d find the crunchy green peppers had been transformed into a slimy mushy mess. Back then, I had deep-rooted hatred for lots of cooked veggies—carrots, celery, and tomatoes to name a few—but cooked green peppers took the medal for most loathed cooked vegetable. To my young taste buds, cooked green peppers had this toxic unnatural taste to them—like they’d been marinating in a puddle of Windex for a few hours. It just wasn’t right. Luckily, peppers were pricy so my step mom was more than happy to make me a meatball sans pepper for dinner while the rest of the family subjected themselves to green pepper poisoning. I love a good meatball.
To this day, I’m still not a huge fan of stuffed green peppers. As I aged and grew wiser, I discovered that other types of peppers could be stuffed just as easily and infinitely more deliciously than green peppers ever could.
Case in point:
Some of my favorite peppers to stuff are banana peppers, cubanelles, and Anaheims. I usually buy whichever variety is the biggest (i.e., most stuffable) at the grocery store that day.
I learned two things while making this recipe.
#1 – Balsamic vinegar makes everything better.
#2 – It is incredibly difficult to photograph black foods in low lighting. *insert childish temper tantrum here*
Baby steps…. baby steps.
This sweet and savory supper was courtesy of a Cooking Light recipe I had filed away in my big black book. I went to the book in search of a new pork dish to make for dinner. Truth be told, I wasn’t super excited about making pork, but the thought of pork covered in a sweet thickened balsamic glaze changed those feelings pretty darn quick.
The thought of lasagna makes my lips quiver. I often fantasize of snuggling up in a six-foot long tray of it. I’d lay my head down on a piece of sausage and pull the noodle layer up around my face like a soft blanket. Sure the tomato sauce might make me look like I have a case of full-body rosacea, but I bet the ricotta would do wonders for my complexion. 
I’m fairly certain the only one who loves lasagna more than me is my fat pants. You know, if it weren’t for all that pasta and all that cheese, lasagna wouldn’t be half bad for you. Ergo my self-proclaimed weekend mission: to create a lightened up lasagna that could satiate my taste buds, no fat pants required.
For the love of lasagna, I wholeheartedly committed to this mission. My healthified version is an adaptation of The World’s Best Lasagna recipe on Allrecipes.com, which I made a year or so ago and LOVED. I made a few swaps here, a few karate chops there, and came up with a lasagna that tastes absolutely delicious and that comes in at under 350 calories a pop.
Now tell me you aren’t thinking about sliding in between those layers and swaddling yourself in a noodle blanket. Don’t worry. I completely understand.
Morning, friends! I hope you all are lucky enough to have the day off of work like me. If not, well then I’ll try not to rub it in too much. I’ve spent a good portion of the new years weekend in the kitchen cooking up a fury. Ancho chicken tacos, sausage lasagna, and balsamic glazed pork loins, just to name a few. This Monday morning (did I mention I have the day off of work???) I wanted to make something special. So I threw together a delicious sausage and egg breakfast braid.
Isn’t it impressive looking?
I’ve been in a bit of a cooking rut lately. I’ve cooked up a storm and destroyed my kitchen on a near-daily basis, but the results have been pretty dismal. I made NC pulled pork sandwiches. Blegh. I made turkey meatballs. Blah. I made sausage and potato gratin. Meh.
But then, I made THIS:
Would you believe me if I told you this saucy plate of Mexican goodness clocks in at under 350 calories?
Shut the front door.
Tis the season for excessive amounts of cookies and glorious baked goodies! Fa-la-la-la-la…. la la la laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
Everywhere I turn there are COOKIES! I love it… hate it….
LOVEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
HATE.
help.
