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Chicken Healthyish Pork Recipes

Dirty Whole30

Just interested in the recipe for Slow Cooker Carnitas with Apple Slaw and Guacamole? Click here!

For most of March, I did the Whole30 Program (mine was more of a Whole28, although I did quit drinking a few days before it started).

Wait, what’d you do???

There’s a million books, blogs, articles, websites about what the Whole30 is, but it’s basically 30 days of no dairy, booze, grains, legumes, sugars, soy and other foods.

Why did you do this???

Well, a bunch of my badass friends had just done it and inspired me. I started the Whole30 because I needed a food reset. Years ago, I firmly lived in the food as fuel space. It was sad and depressing. I now live in the food as delicious fun space, which is satisfying, until my pants don’t fit. I thought this would help me find the balance between food as energy and indulgence.

And it did. I became so much more cognizant of what I was putting in my body. We all know that sugar is in everything; but it’s not until you’ve embarked on something like Whole30 that you realize SUGAR IS ACTUALLY IN EVERYTHING.

This program (and others like it) require a TON of time, planning and cooking. If you think you’ve cooked enough, cook more! Yes, you could do the Whole30 by eating roasted veggies and chicken every night. But I know I personally wouldn’t make it and would end up face-down in a pizza by day 7.  I cannot do anything where I’m bored or hungry, so that wasn’t an option for me. So, yes I ate well. Look at these perfect little compliant lamb chops Jay made me.  Continue Reading

Chicken Grilling Recipes

Grilled Mojo Wings

I shouldn’t even write this.

I should keep this Florida girl secret to myself.

Seriously, it’s not even a real recipe.

But you’re here. We’re friends. And friends help each other out. Even when it comes to food cheating.

One bottle, two words: Mojo Criollo.

I think my mother first told me about this magical marinade about 6 years ago. You can use it on anything, but my preferred method is to wake up 20 min before I swore I’d be at the gym, tear open a package of chicken (recent preferred part is thighs), dump it in a bowl, cover it in mojo, pop it in the fridge and then blearily head to the nearest stair master.

(Stair master? Jesus, I really have become my mother).  Continue Reading