I know it’s been a bit since I’ve last blogged about my food endeavors. Let’s skip the part where you lecture me on the responsibilities associated with food blogging, mmk? Anyway, let’s get down to it.
The Satan of the health gods decided it’d be fun to bless me with bronchitis, and upper respiratory infection and “sinusitis” this week, so don’t expect me to talk about working out because I can hardly string a full sentence together without gagging, let alone get my heart rate up (feel free to make jokes about my sex life at any time). The sinus/upper respiratory half of my infection left with me with little to no appetite (a sure sign I’m close to being on my death bed), so healthy recipes went out the door and were eagerly replaced with the only thing that sounded friendly to my stomach – mom’s homemade macaroni and cheese. No, I’m not sharing the recipe. Not because I don’t want you to have it, but to discuss its cream-based cheese sauce makes my stomach double over in a macaroni-induced craving.
Now that I’m feeling a little better – and by that, I mean that I only have the most obvious sign of sickness, the gagging, weezing, burning cough that makes me a red flag for any and all hypochondriacs – I can get back to eating better. What did I try? Well, at the recommendation and inspiration of some glorious women I know, I tried sweet potato fries.
Here’s where the feeling like an idiot part comes in. I was unaware that yams and sweet potatoes are used for virtually the same cooking purposes, but are technically different things. For weeks, I’ve been scanning my produce section at the grocery looking for sweet potatoes to try in recipes at home. All I found were regular potatoes and yams. Fucking yams. Week after fucking week. Finally, I asked this guy at Kroger today, determined to find my damn sweet potatoes. He points at the yams with a look that could only be more insulting had he not had a giant wart on his lip (yes, seriously), and says to me, “You mean yams? You know they’re the same thing, right?” No, asshole. No. I didn’t know. So I put the damn yams in a plastic bag and made my way to self checkout. Incase you’re as [apparently] dumb as I am and you need photo documentation, I have provided one for you here.
So, what the hell do you do with them? Well, I should tell you that they’re a bitch to cut. Literally, nothing like cutting a normal potato. But, I encourage you to power through because the end result is worth it. All I did was cut one up, toss it in some salt, pepper, garlic salt and olive oil, and bake them for about 30 minutes – 15 minutes on each side. Honestly, they’re phenomenal. And no one cares that they aren’t cut to perfection. In fact, my entire blog is proof that you can cook without fancy ingredients, awesome serving dishes and obscure foods that no one has ever heard of, let alone can find in a basic grocery store. Here are my deformed, yet delicious, sweet potato fries!
See, now look. Some are burnt, some are crooked, some have skin, some don’t. They’re all still brilliantly delicious in their own perfect little way. I’m essentially running the short bus for sweet potato fries, really. What did I eat with it? Get excited… a grilled buffalo chicken salad. CHECK. IT. OUT.
How did I make this fantastic piece of salad paradise? Well, if you don’t know how to concoct a salad, then I can’t help you. But as far as the grilled chicken is concerned – I just cut up boneless skinless chicken breast, similar to how I did for my chicken stir fry recipe somewhere in this blog, and cooked it in some olive oil in a pan. Toss it with some Frank’s Buffalo Sauce (LOVE OF MY LIFE, fo realz) dump it on top of all your favorite salad ingredients. Yes, I added a little ranch dressing, so kill me. But the two dishes made a perfectly acceptable dinner, and didn’t take long at all.
While I’m at it, here are some random food, and non-food related thoughts:
I really need to stop eating ranch dressing. It’s the redneck cousin of salad dressing, not to mention it’s completely fattening and the idea of its ingredients disgust me. Peppercorn ranch is especially delicious.
I feel so dumb this week. I went to bar trivia and realized that I am NOT the possessor of useless knowledge, and the great yam and sweet potato debate of 2k11 has me feeling more moronic than ever. I don’t know what it is, but this week seems to be a repetitive sequence of events existing simply to prove to me that my college degree doesn’t mean shit.
I will never stop loving pasta and all things cream-based. It just won’t ever happen.
I need to stop eating for pleasure, and start eating for functionality. I love food. Too much.
Alright, that’s all. I’ll do better next time, I promise. Happy Friday Eve!