coconut chia vanilla pudding

Lately, I've been thinking about dairy. 

It's one of my favorite categories of food, for one.  I've only ever met one single kind of cheese that didn't do it for me (the raunchiest of bleus), and if a recipe contains the words au and gratin, particularly in that order, I always always do a double take, reading through it, savoring the thoughts of heavy cream laced with Gruyere.  I've even gone so far to joke that I'm a 'cheese whore'... hey baby, I'll do anything for a wheel (of course, I'm kidding... or am I?)

But, now that my days are chock full of nutrition speak, and I'm rediscovering what a truly healthier life entails, the notion of a dairy-soaked existence isn't quite as glamorous (insert image of cheese whore) as it once seemed to be.

cranberry apple crisp

Times are hectic, friends.  In the best way possible.

I'm cooking and baking away for my new job.  That's got me in other people's kitchens two days a week, and it's got my brain wheels a crankin' at least another three.  The alarm clock is still doing its annoying electronic jingling a few times a week at an awful hour of the morning, reminding me that there are mounds of groceries waiting to be shelved for my other source of income. I'm also immersed in my health coach training, with my fancy little i-pod broadcasting lectures and videos about things like whole grains and the importance of drinking water (have you had enough today?). 

Sprinkled in with those responsibilities, I'm starting to practice health consultations with my classmates.  It's really exciting to have conversations with people about what's going on in their lives.  But who knew it could be such a challenge to shut my own, relentless brain up and really listen?  Not just wait while the other person talks.  Not just think about what I want to say next while they jabber on.  But truly pay attention to everything that's coming from another person's mouth, and then listen some more.  No nervous silence fillers, no finishing sentences in a "you're so predictable" kind of way.  Just listening to someone spill it. 

leftover turkey & sweet potato hash

It's two days past Thanksgiving now.  The oven is bare and chilly in its state of dormancy, the table is folded and stowed in the closet (yes, I said closet. we break out our thrift store card table along with our finest crystal for special occasions like these), and the fridge is full to bursting with remnants of our Thursday feast.

In typical post-Thanksgiving fashion, we've been reliving that special meal with plates full of the leftover dishes we prepared that day.  And we're relishing in the fact that dinner is basically already prepared, should we feel inclined to laze around a bit more than a usual night allows us.