It’s already January 3rd and I haven’t written anything about resolutions, goals or the like here at Orangespoken. 
Mostly because I’ve been working on my new little project, The Sly Pie (check it out, pretty please!). 

So what do I wish for in 2015? What are some things I hope for in the next 365 362 days?

1. Complete my first half marathon. I started training for the Sarasota Half on 3/15 a few weeks ago and I’m already up to 6 miles in the training plan. I’ve avoided longer distance races since my experience with the Gasparilla 15k . That race was hard. Really hard. Harder than the triathlons. So I figured I’d be sticking with sprint tris and 5ks for the rest of my life. Fast forward a few years later (and lots of pounds less) and here I am training for 13.1 glorious miles. I blame my friend Nanci for this bit of insanity inspiration. 😉 

2. Continue with workouts at Orangetheory. What can I say. OTF is still where it’s at and has helped me be stronger and more confident (um, hello 13.1!) since joining. 

3. Eat more. Most people have “eat less” as a goal for the new year, but for me, I vow to “eat more”. Eat more home-cooked meals. Eat more fresh, local produce. Eat more bleu cheese (I really don’t have enough of that in my life). Eat more foods I’ve never tried (and no, NOT Brussels sprouts you fools!). Eat more fish. Eat  more of the things that I love by revamping those recipes to be more nutrient packed and satisfying (The Sly Pie’s mission!). 

4. Drink more. (Heh). I plan to host monthly whine/wine and cheese nights with my chicas! I cherish time with them, and what better way than to dish over good bottles of wine. 😉

5. Volunteer. I plan to give back at least once a month with organizations like the Ronald McDonald house, Metropolitan Ministries and Meals on Wheels. 

6. Strengthen our work with #TeamJudy. I’ll be representing our team by fundraising throughout 5ks, Co-op for A Cure, and other events for breast cancer awareness. 

7. Camp more. Travel more. Fun more. (can you “fun more?“) 😉 Starting with a trip to Ft. Desoto campground in T-5 minutes! 

8. Get flexy. I still battle with the whole flexible thing. Mostly because I don’t practice enough! This year I plan to foam roll consistently, do PiYo a couple of times a week, and maybe, just maybe try a yoga class (finally). Who wants to come sit at the back row with me at Yoga in the Park downtown? 

So that’s it! My vision and hopes for 2015. What about you? What do you see for yourself in the new year? I’d love to hear! 🙂

Steph 

If you’re my friend, or if you follow this blog (or stalk me on social media) you KNOW I hate Brussels Sprouts.
Like hate them.

Like if I had my way it would be illegal to grow them, sell them, serve them at restaurants. You get the idea.
And I can hear your voice as I type this.

“Have you tried them with bacon?! Have you tried them glazed in a reduced balsamic?! Have you tried them roasted with salt and a little EVOO?! Have you [insert a million other suggestions I’ve heard you guys tell me here].

Ya’ll I’m not kidding. I detest those veiny green balls of disgusting. I don’t like the texture, the flavor, nor do I like that bulbous feeling against my tongue. Hear me when I shout from the rooftops that I HATE BRUSSELS SPROUTS! 

As a foodie, especially one that promotes healthy eating and trying new things, it DOES hurt my heart that I can’t find a way to enjoy them. And aside from their overall foulness, I DO have an emotional reason for detesting these beasts.

Way back in once upon a time time I attended a very strict private school. It was 1980-something and I was just a wee 1st or 2nd grader sitting in the cafeteria of this school preparing to eat whatever they had plopped onto my tray that day (we had no choices back then kids; so consider yourself lucky!) 

Now something you might not know about me is that I was a complete goody two-shoes growing up. I mean I was terrified, TERRIFIED of doing something wrong. So because of that, I was very shy, and VERY quiet. And what made my fears even WORSE is the fact that this school was lead by a mean, old, crotchety, rottenly rude “principal” named Father B (I’m sure he’s dead and giving Jesus a hard time right about now, but we’ll keep his identity private… in case his family is tuning in). 

Father B was STRICT, and I mean STRICT. And back then, hitting kids was still a thing in schools (specifically whacking them across the hands with rulers and crap!). So when Father B patrolled the lunchroom each day, kids were silent, and they cleaned their plates- no questions (or arguments!)… or else. Recess was right after lunch so if there were any children not following the lunchroom rules that day, they would not be able to go outside and play, and they would most likely have to deal with the big “B”.

Well years later I can clearly see THEE lunch that turned my world upside down on that fateful day. There was a grilled cheese sandwich, a bowl of clam chowder (right? no allergies back then I guess!) a pile of steamed, bulbous, wretchedly veiny Brussels sprouts, applesauce cake, a carton of white milk and my retainer wrapped up in a napkin in the corner of the tray. I devoured my grilled cheese, slurped my chowder, inhaled my cake, and washed it all down with the milk. I was thoroughly full at that point, but KNEW I had to do something about the 4 sprouts staring me down from their little boxed section of the plastic lunchroom tray. I had never, and I mean NEVER seen anything so foul in my entire life, but figured that these little green balls from hell weren’t going to prevent me from sliding down the slide today. So I took one and popped the entire thing in my mouth. I bit down and felt the hard, leafy, bulbous texture collapse in between my teeth, and rapidly spit it out onto the table; just as Father B walked by.

The half-chewed green sprout looked as though it had been run over by a truck. I carefully picked it up with two fingers and laid it in the corner of my tray next to my wrapped up retainer. And at that moment, I heard three little words that I will never, ever forget. Three little words that to this day replay in my head anytime I make eye contact with those little green sons of bitches.

Clean. Your. Plate. 

I sat there staring up at Father B as he stared back through his thick rimmed black glasses and sheepishly informed him that I didn’t like them, only to have him utter those three horrific words once again, along with a threat that if I didn’t comply, I would not be joining the rest of my class at recess…and possibly even worse.

Now I wish I could say that I embedded a little exaggeration into this tale, but you’ve got to believe me when I say that all of this actually happened, including the fact that I sat and stared at those 3 + 1 half chewed sprouts through recess, reading, math and science lessons that day. And when Father B finally came back to the lunchroom to see me sitting there staring at those same sprouts (now even more limp and cold), he shot me a disgusted and disappointed look, told me to clean off my tray, and sent me back to class for dismissal. I had won the battle that day against both Father B and the sprouts, but to this day, I am still battling the war against those nasty things.

And although I’m now 35, I cannot shake those same feelings from that horrific day from my childhood. I was convinced that Father B knew the devil himself and got those green balls straight from the booth of a farmer’s market in hell. I really, REALLY want to like them. They’re packed with goodness, and it seems as though the rest of the world is on board, and some even go so far as calling them “delicious!” So now as an adult, with a different palette than the one I had 25+ years ago, I have attempted to prepare these things based on all of the suggestions I’ve read about and heard about in recent years, but have managed to unsuccessfully cook these creatures in a way that will A. please my taste-buds and B. wash me of the trauma Father B created in my head.

Not long ago I whipped up a salad with a Brussels Sprouts slaw I purchased from Trader Joe’s. It was alright, mostly because the little bastards were shredded, and covered with a delicious dressing and grilled shrimp (what’s not to love!). But I didn’t feel as though I had truly won.

And honestly, why should I even CARE about winning? Um, well, I’m a *wee* bit competitive. But I’ll save that for another post.

Today my adoring and loving man took me to the farmer’s market to stock up on some produce before football playoffs began (any other football widows out there? Holla!). I picked up the usual, but then spotted a sweet and innocent looking basket of those green balls propped up all perky and cute by the fresh herbs.

I rolled my eyes, grabbed a basket and headed to the check out.
Like I said. Competitive.

2015 will be the year that I will finally defeat these jerks. I mean what if one day I end up on Chopped and they’re in one of the mystery baskets? What then?! I need to be prepared.

Now will I dare use the D word to describe the recipe I whipped up below? Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves kids. SURE these tasted good (gasp!), but we’ll save the D word for things like coal fired pizza, tiramisu, and corn fritters with bacon aioli from BJ’s. THOSE things are worthy of having the delicious title.

Roasted Brussels Sprouts with a creamy honey Dijon drizzle
Ingredients
8-10 stupid Brussels Sprouts, quartered
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil (evoo)
1 tsp. sea salt
1 tsp. cracked black pepper
1 tbsp. lemon zest
2 garlic cloves, minced (I used the zester to make it very fine)

For the drizzle
1 tbsp. evoo
1 tbsp. raw honey
1 tbsp. Dijon mustard
1 tbsp. mayo
1 sprig of fresh thyme
salt and pepper to taste
*Freshly grated parmesean for garnish

1. Preheat your oven to 400 degrees F.
2. Toss the dumb quartered Brussels Sprouts in the olive oil, lemon zest, garlic, salt and pepper until every stupid nook and cranny is coated.
3. Throw them haphazardly onto a baking sheet and roast at 400 degrees for 15-20 minutes or until you see that they are no longer that ugly green color, but now more of a brown toasty color. Give the pan a few shakes during the cooking time just to show them who’s boss.
4. While those stupid things are cooking, prepare the drizzle by combining all ingredients into a bowl and whisking until smooth.
5. Apologize to the drizzle for what you are about to put them through.
6. Remove the jerks from the pan and place onto a serving dish or bowl. Drizzle the dressing over the top, then sprinkle with a few shavings of freshly grated Parmesan cheese.

And last but not least, sigh, go ahead and eat them. You’ll be pleasantly surprised at the flavor and texture. The sprouts become quite nutty, and you can’t feel those nasty veins anymore. And the drizzle is sweet and tart, which gives it a nice bright flavor. They’re actually good. Sigh. Ugh.

My grandmother, Abuelita, was born right before the Great Depression began. She was a young girl during that time and would tell me stories of those hard times her and her family endured along the streets of old Ybor City.

Her mother raised multiple children, and they knew how to pinch a penny. Especially when it came to food. Nothing went to waste, especially vegetables that were on the verge of spoiling. Even when times weren’t hard anymore, when she considered herself “rich”, she’d still find every opportunity to not be even the least bit wasteful.

One glance into her fridge and you’d see everything from an 1/8 of a sandwich she couldn’t dare throw away, ends of carrots and celery stalks, and side cubbies stuffed to the brim with condiment packets.

One of the things she would whip up on a dime was hearty pot pies. Pot pies are the perfect place to not only a great way to clean out the produce drawer in your fridge, but they’re also the perfect vessel for hiding nutritious and delicious ingredients to sneak by your picky eaters.

Although what I’ve whipped up is more of a tart than a pie, I as made this I was reminded of all of those on the spot creations my grandmother used to whip up.

For these I used a couple of carrots from last week’s farmer’s market trip, 1/2 onion that was sitting in a plastic bag from when we grilled burgers the other day, some leftover roasted broccoli I used for fritattas and some mushrooms I had purchased on sale at Publix over the weekend, but wasn’t quite sure what I was going to do with them. I also decided to keep these grain-free/low carb by using a hearty almond flour crust. Feel free to change these up with your favorite veggie combinations!

By the way, my Abuelita would have NEVER added mushrooms. She was VERY superstitious and believed that mushrooms were “la casita de diablo” aka the little devil’s house. She used to believe that mushrooms were evil, therefore would never, ever even come close to eating them! lol

Creamy vegetable tartlets makes 6
Ingredients
For the crust
2 cups blanched almond flour (blanched= no brown skins on the almonds)
1 large egg
1/2 tsp. sea salt
2 tbsp. good extra virgin olive oil

For the filling
8oz sliced baby bella mushrooms
2 large carrots, diced
1/2 sweet onion, diced
2-3 sprigs of fresh thyme
1/2 cup roasted broccoli
1 tbsp. extra virgin olive oil
2 tbsp. brown rice flour (can find at your regular grocery store)
1 1/2 cups low sodium chicken broth
1/2 cup heavy cream
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. pepper
chopped parsley and freshly grated Parmesean for garnish

Directions
1. For the crust: Combine almond flour, olive oil, salt and egg in a food processor (or use a mixer) and pulse until combined and a ball has formed. Wrap in wax paper or cling wrap and place in the fridge until ready to use.
2. Heat 1 tbsp. olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Saute onions and carrots until almost completely soft. Add mushrooms, broccoli and thyme and continue cooking until mushrooms are caramelized (rich brown color).
3. Reduce heat to medium low and add brown rice flour. Stir until veggies are coated with the flour, then add chicken broth, salt and pepper. Simmer until bubbly, then turn off the heat and add heavy cream. Stir well and set aside.
4. Remove pie crust from the fridge and press walnut-sized pieces of dough into greased cupcake tins. Using a spoon, fill each cup with the veggie mixture and bake at 350 for 10 minutes. Let each tartlet cool, then remove from the pan and garnish with freshly grated Parmesan cheese and parsley. Enjoy

I hope you had a fabulous (and filling!) Thanksgiving Holiday!
And no matter how hard I tried to fight it, I was listening to Christmas tunes way before a slice of turkey entered my mouth. And decoration boxes may or may not be pulled out of the closet already. 

Hey, what can I say… I’m feeling festive! 
With feelings of joy and cheer, I bring you this: FUDGE. 

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Can you BELIEVE it’s that time of year? 
Wasn’t it JUST September like a second ago?

Although I feel like I never really embraced the Halloween spirit this year (aside from passing out tricks and treats- that’s ALWAYS a blast), I can FEEL the holiday cheer building up inside me; bubbling up like a glass of sparkling champagne on New Year’s eve. 
And with Thanksgiving just a few days away, and temps getting cooler here in Florida, I am feeling festive and ready for a fun and memorable holiday season!

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