Tag: poop

10 things you may not know about me, but now you do

#9. I’m midwestern AF. I grew up in St. Louis, went to highschool and college in Minnesota and moved to Chicago 4 years ago. My favorite pastime is eating. Ranch dressing is my ketchup. I apologize for everything. I wait in line just like I’m supposed to and am polite to strangers. I have a real weakness for cookies and bars, hotdish, and pretty much anything on a stick, but even so, don’t have the capacity to commit the midwestern cardinal sin – I will never take the last serving.

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The first rule of dieting is: you ALWAYS talk about dieting.

It’s finally 2017. Wowie kazowie, 2016 was a hell of a year. I made ONE single post in this old thang, which is pretty disappointing, but so was a lot of this year. World events, politics, and the soap box that is social media continue to be real downers. Boy, am I grateful for the “Unfollow” button

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Buffin Cakes, yeah, you heard that right.

8 days ago, I was confident that I’d come to this blog with a new found life skill and infinite wisdom to share with anyone I either forced to read this, or who was bored enough to open this link and read it (sucker). I accrued this new level of confidence when I walked into a

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Disclaimer: I did not trademark the Salandwichrito™. I’m just the dummy who found the special characters box in the WordPress toolbar.

A wise person once told me that the more colorful the food is that fills your plate and your mouth, the more likely it is that you’re making healthy food choices. That’s why I always eat my ice cream sundaes with sprinkles and my cake with funfetti frosting. There is actually a diet called, “The Color Diet,”

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I’m baaaaaaaaaaaack. (Well, for now.)

I sat across the table from my best friend, about to devour inarguably the best deep dish pizza in Chicago (Pequods, FIGHT ME IF YOU DISAGREE) when she looked up at me and asked me if my food blog was dead. I winced a little, thinking back to the glory days, when I cooked then publicly documented my

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self proclaimed sauce boss.

As a manager of mine once said [at a work meeting that included scenes from Braveheart and pizza], “You’re either on the bus, or you’re off the bus.” such deep. much philosophical. My point? ‘Tis finally time to hop back on the hypothetical blogging bus. It’s BBQ season. The most patriotic time of the year. Filled with

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Warning: this post contains nuts.

I’ve got balls on the brain. Yes, you read that correctly. Balls. I feel like there’s a stigma around edible ball-shaped objects. For obvious reasons, yes. So as a preemptive precaution, please watch this tasteful SNL skit to get the obvious ball jokes out of the way. I absolutely suck at waking up to an

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I falafel about not doing this earlier.

Well I already failed the New Years resolution that was updating this beast twice a month. My excuses this month include: February is short, February sucks, I went on vacation, I was busy as fudge, and February sucks. Meh, I deem those ‘explanations’ all valid and forgivable. When I moved to Chicago a year ago,

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Wrap it up

I have to be honest, I haven’t been home enough lately to bother doing any legitimate meal prep (yes, I know, excuses are like armpits and they stink). For this post, we are going to take a little trip in my hypothetical time machine to a nicer, warmer, more kitchen-filled time. Speaking of le kitchen,

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